#this is strictly a ramble because i got pissed off reading something and needed to immediately vent
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mikakuna · 1 month ago
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anyone ever notice that mainly the only way that bruce and jason mend their relationship, both in canon and fics, is by jason realizing bruce actually feels bad for everything he did or is shouldering too much and it guilt trips jason into trying to fix his relationship with bruce? this isn't all cases but it definitely is the case with most popular fics. bruce apologizes sometimes yeah but it's usually just someone telling jason or him realizing just how heartbroken and depressed bruce is. jason then internalizes out of guilt that he needs to lay off bruce and realize that maybe bruce is trying his best
in fact most relationships jason has with the bats in fanon is like this. jason calls tim replacement until oh nooo the poor baby is so sleepy and running on coffee and awww he's just a little boy i need to stop being a menace, meanwhile tim or alfred never apologized for every nasty thing they said or imagined about jason when he was robin. enemy to caretaker makes me barf. do not make my boy who has been a caretaker to adults since birth take care of this rich boy who's been taken care of extraordinarily since day one. tim having this supposed childhood trauma fans talk about doesn't take away from the fact that he was taken care of as a child
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uncanny-zenith · 1 month ago
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Introduction: Info Page
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WARNING!: This blog is not meant for anyone under the age of at least +16, yet most of my content will be explicit and only meant for mature audiences! (18+) As most themes and topics will be dark in nature. So please if you are not in the right headspace or not over at least 16, please do not interact with my blog or I will block.
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Ey, as I've said this is a mainly dark-fic/yandere blog. A bunch of yikes, many many yikes that I don't condone irl and shouldn't be replicated!
Anyways, I'll only do requests when I can. Which isn't often. Life stuff, just drop off something whenever you see that requests are labeled as open in my bio if you want to. Also just call me Coco, or just Author. This penname is used across my accounts, you may also refer to me with He/She pronouns.
My works will only exist under my username across three other platforms. Which you can also find my stuff on these
Quotev: See Me Here
Wattpad: See Me Here
— I'm currently getting an AO3 again because it got purged for some reason 😭 (I.e I usually don't cross post my fics unless I really really like it)
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The Fandoms I write for mainly is aot and pokemon. Though I'll add some more when I want to. I'm also strictly writing in the canon-verse, unless I want to diverge if it makes sense.
— What do I write for?
What I'm mainly writing for ATM: 🎖️
Here's the list to be more clear (+Masterlists):
— Attack On Titan
Who I write for; Practically Everyone, but I mainly write for the Titan Shifters. As in; Eren, Reiner, Bertholdt, Annie, Ymir, Zeke, Porco and Pieck. Yet everyone else can still be requested as well
— Pokemon (all media) 🎖️🎖️‼️
Who I write for; Only the villains and player characters (platonic)
— JoJo's Bizarre Adventure
Parts I write for; parts 1-9 mainly the JoJo's, Jobro's and Villains
———
- more coming soon! (These are the only fandoms I really know a lot about 😭)
Types of content I do write:
I write for practically anything except for scat or piss kinks.
- nsfw
- any kink imaginable (this is a judgement free zone ofc)
- dubcon/noncon
- Any kind of reader that doesn't specify looks.
(I default to a transmasc/bigen y/n, cause I love projecting)
— Note that no fic will truly be sfw, cause I lean towards writing absolute freaks. Even if nothing explicit has happened. The only way a fic would be considered 'sfw' is if it's a part of a multi part story or one-shot. Where the freaky has yet to be unleashed.
There will also be tags for everything, so navigating wouldn't be a nightmare to find what you want. This will help in the long run. Though things tagged with "Coco'sAsks" & "CocoBlog" aren't related to fanfics or any type of writing. While "Coco'sHeadcanons", "Coco'sDrabbles", and "Coco'sFics" are my works. So if you don't want to read full discount Shakespeare and just want to hear my rambling dont use the "Coco'sFics" tag. Or you can just look at the content you want because literally everything will be tagged.
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That's about it though, I'll add more later on whenever need be. Aur revoir my little freaks ✨
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curiouschaosstarlight · 1 year ago
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So, I don't uuusually type outside of tags like this (and I very much did not want to here either), but! The last time I typed out a bunch of tags in a big ol' ramble, tumblr ate the majority of them.
I've been slowly realizing more and more that I think the way I grew up -- anime, manga, books, and video games, all hand-curated by my mom because it was her money and she, too, loved all those things -- gave me a very different childhood from other people.
I've never considered animation to be "for kids", I've never had a game that "teaches" me that games can have story (because ALL my games had story, because my mom loves stories and intentionally went and got games that had them), I've never really had my "first big plot twist", "first big betrayal", "first big death" or anything, because about 85% of the media I had was all doing that. Even the Pokemon anime was doing that, though people like to discount Pokemon from doing anything that isn't strictly "for kids", because...honestly, I think because of the cultural differences? You see all the time people claiming that death "never happens" or is "never mentioned" in Pokemon, despite the fact that it's actually quite prominent. (There's an area dedicated to dead Pokemon, sometimes actual human ghosts, in every single generation, there's been the threat of death + actual deaths in the anime + full-ass character deaths in the movies, even discounting the ones where everyone winds up being okay afterwards, and the various mangas can also get pretty dark and not really the American version of "kid-friendly".)
My aunt (my mom's best friend) also loved anime and all that, and she had basically the entirety of Sailor Moon as a collection of dvds. Specifically, she had the entire first season as a set of og, uncut, Japanese only dvds. There were English subs, that was it. And I was allowed to borrow and watch that a LOT. God- I watched it a lot. Sailor Moon was one of my biggest jams growing up.
...If I did have a "first", it was Sailor Moon. Growing up and looking into it more, it was the first time I realized how radically a dub can change things. Specifically the gay relationships; the most famous one was sloppily changing Sailor Uranus and Sailor Neptune from lesbians to "cousins" in the dub, but there were also two instances of taking effeminate gay men in the original version (Zoisite in the first season, and Fish Eye in SuperS) and turning them into girls.
After that, I became way more curious about what the original subbed versions of a lot of my other favorite anime was like.
Now, for the most part, I'm a case-by-case basis kind of person when it comes to subbed vs dubbed, but I've noticed that when it comes to actual analysis of characters, story, intent, etc. I am VERY strictly a "watch the subs and do research" type of person. And when people have some truly asinine takes on characters, dynamics, plot points, etc. that only takes a very base reading of the English translation of something into account (ESPECIALLY if the takes also reeks of them heavily applying Western values to an Eastern work without even a hint of self-awareness), it genuinely pisses me off.
(And oh. my fucking god. The amount of people that refuse to take Japanese culture into account despite HANDLING JAPANESE MEDIA drives me up the wall. There was someone I knew recently, a translator, that fucking insisted on a really off reading of a video game that could be easily answered with 'okay but things are different in Japan, we need to look at their standards to get the best idea of this' were shot down with 'I know' and then CONTINUING TO TRY ENFORCING WESTERN SENSIBILITIES WITH ZERO CHANGE TO THE APPROACH WHATSOEVER.)
(This is another reason why I despise "coding" as a fandom concept. It comes from the Hay's Code, which was enforced in Hollywood and heavily affected American media for a good fucking while. Coding, as a concept, does NOT fucking exist outside of certain time periods as it is, and it does not fucking exist in Japan, with media that was only ever released in Japan. The closest thing you can possibly get with that is, like, the Sailor Moon thing from before, and that's not ''''Coding'''', that's ACTIVE CENSORSHIP OF ACTUAL GAY CHARACTERS. When you experience a lot of Japanese media, like actually experience it instead of living with your head up your ass, you start to notice Japan really doesn't "code" characters in any semblance of the word. They kind of just Do or Outright State things most of the time, or otherwise make jokes about stereotypes that are probably incredibly obvious back in Japan. Now, I don't doubt there's instances of trying to squeak this or that past Japanese censors, but what Japan thinks is worthy of censorship and what America thinks is worthy of censorship are two different things for the most part.)
(If anyone reading that last bit thinks "well, that's what Coding is!", you are part of the problem, and you should just start calling ""Coding"" by what you actually mean; "Stereotyping".)
Part of the fun of Japanese media, and indeed other non-American media, for me is seeing and learning about cultures that aren't mine. I love finding out that this character or that plot point was the way it was because of this Japanese expectation or that bit of folklore, and so on.
(Other characters that people are REALLY fucking bad about trying to insist on attaching American standards to; Chihiro from Danganronpa, and Naoto from Persona 4. Both deal with the very strict gender roles in Japan, because Japan is very much, or at least was at the time those characters were made, I don't keep fully updated with how times change in Japan and I'm not going to claim to, a "the nail that sticks out gets hammered down" kind of country. Being noticeably different, like being a guy with what's seen as "feminine" traits, or a girl in a heavily male-dominated line of work, causes a lot of problems, resulting in Chihiro getting heavily bullied and Naoto never being taken seriously at her job. So Of Course Basically Every English Fan Complains About How These Are Obviously Trans Characters And They're SO Badly Written And Don't You Dare Say They Aren't Trans.)
(Disclaimer, because I know I have to; I love trans characters in stuff. I want more trans characters in media. I want more positive trans representation. But I've seen people send each other death threats over this shit. I've seen people say others shouldn't write or even look at these characters as anything but "trans" or else, despite how literally the tiniest amount of research would be like "yeah, not trans, just a very Japan-specific issue".)
(And then we have the opposite problem where Vivian from Paper Mario The Thousand Year Door was trans, if handled nnnot the greatest in Japanese, was turned cisfemale, or at least her sisters respect her pronouns, in English, and once the remake was announced, we have a bunch of English fans insisting she isn't and wasn't trans < < Ugh.)
There's just. So much shit you miss when you look at non-American media and go "well, I know exactly what's going on here! I don't need to reframe the way I think at all!", and it's genuinely galling how hard some people will fucking refuse, refuse, to even attempt to engage with something with its original cultural context, or otherwise claim that they're TOTALLY keeping all of that in mind, but they still keep using American expectations to frame literally everything.
Ofc I wasn't this amazing, perfect literature analyzing child or anything like that. But...I dunno. I feel like I've seen a lot of other people hold certain experiences very, very tightly, and struggle to grasp "this thing was made with a completely different culture than mine and does not and would not reflect my sensibilities", when all of that has been fairly second-nature to me.
Something about this piece of Japanese media seems a bit weird or off or questionable to me? I might need to look into why it's that way for it to actually make sense? Yeah, I sure fucking hope it does.
You! American fan of foreign or otherwise un-American media! Are you aware of the nuances and cultural differences that are portrayed in that media and have an understanding that you as an outsider looking in should be careful with the lenses you analyze that media in because you have a different perspective that is not catered to?
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#reblog#chaotic rambles#my big thing rn is Genshin and HSR which#dont really have the greatest english dubs imo#and the english translation keeps getting some pretty bad errors#that drops important details or completely changes what's going on#the most infamous is Childe's pre-boss speech but it's STILL happening with other things#And Then I Watch People Come Out With The Most Braindead Bad Faith Takes#that are clearly based ENTIRELY on the english dub with no consideration for anything else#as for me im on the og chinese dub which is definitely my favorite of the choices#while my friends are on the japanese dub#and man. the vocal performances can really wildly differ#unfortunately i dont know chinese at all so i do have to wait around for other people to tell me when things differ#but occasionally you can tell when things are a bit off because of the emotions in the voice acting#does not help me at all during non-voice acted things though#which is v sad#recently found out that Dottore is a specific type of character that's really popular on the Chinese side of things#which is iiiiinteresting to me a Dottore fan >:3c#anyways none of these are especially relevant because im still kinda floundering when it comes to these two games#but i've been thinking about it a lot in terms of how so many people like...just take the game at face value#and never go look to see if anyone's made a note of how accurate certain things are#despite the really infamous complete mistranslation of the pre-boss Childe speech#that changed what he was saying from the original to essentially be the complete opposite of what was intended#things that just make me go hhrrmm...
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autumnwritesjojos · 4 years ago
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spaceygracey said:Hi there!!~💕🥰 How do you think the each of bucci gang boys would want to spend a lazy with their s/o 💕😘
a/n: hiii gracey!! thank you for sending a suggestion! i had a lot of fun thinking up of things these dorks would do with their s/os, i hope you enjoy!
Bucci gang and their s/o on a lazy day
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Don Giorno Giovanna
Technically speaking, Giorno doesn’t have “lazy days.” Being the Don of Passione requires Giorno’s full and undivided attention, he just simply doesn’t have time off like he used to when he was younger. He’s also very goal-driven, he will not stop until his dreams have come to fruition.
That being said, those lazy days have strictly moved to what he likes to call “vacations.” Also known as: he likes to mess around with people sometimes and call off a day to relax simply because he can. Got a day full of meetings and doesn’t want to deal with them? He’ll tell Mista to hold them off for tomorrow. Besides, a day off with you sounds wonderful right now.
Giorno would stroll with you in Naples, partly to see how much the city’s changed since he became Don and also to be with you again. He’s got a pretty big sweet tooth, especially for chocolate, so he knows the local sweets shops by heart. He never got to indulge when he was a child, so he wants to take advantage of that whenever possible.
He’ll gladly share anything he buys with you. Normally he’s keen on keeping them to himself but he’ll make an exception for you. Mista gets upset about it all the time because he always wants a bite.
However, his favorite part of all is the beach. Very big on nature, always has been. He loves the sound of water hitting the sandy shores of Naples as the two of you converse over whatever’s been on your mind. He just enjoys being in your presence.
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Bruno Bucciarati
For Bruno, catching him on a lazy day is rare. As Capo, he has to keep up not only with his work but also his appearance, which unfortunately bleeds into his daily life. The man’s worth ethic is ridiculously high too, so it’s difficult to get him to take a day off.
With his s/o, he’s more willing to take a day off to catch up with himself and focus on you two more. He’s an early riser, so he’ll go ahead and make breakfast for you.
Fishing is his biggest comfort hobby. Besides, it’s what he’s grown up with, the inner workings of fishing are nothing but natural to him.
He'll definitely want to show you how to fish, he gets oddly eager when he talks about fishing. You’ll see him all decked out in fishing gear. It's so different from his usual attire, yet he's looking at you gleefully like he's a kid all over again. It’s a good change of pace.
Bruno will gently guide you with his hands, sensual touches are everything to him. If you catch something, he acts like you just won the lottery. He'd tell you all about the fish too, he knows the fish in Naples like the back of his hand.
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Leone Abbacchio
Abbacchio will refuse to leave the house. He doesn’t even want to see people. You know it’s a lazy day for him when you walk into the kitchen to get breakfast and you see him already there: messy hair, no makeup, and a cup of coffee in hand.
He’s normally so uptight about his appearance, seeing him in this state lets you know that he can be vulnerable around you. Abbacchio trusts that he can be genuine with you in private, so he’s more willing to have lazy days with you.
He doesn’t really have anything particular in mind either. Whatever he’s doing during the day depends on you. You want to stay in bed all day and bang? No problems there. Anything low maintenance is fine with him, just don’t make him clean.
Abbacchio would love to do his makeup with you. Drinking a glass of wine, messing with each other’s faces while a cheesy 80’s movie plays in the background is the perfect lazy day for him. He would order takeout, there’s no way he’d be in the mood to cook something.
In the evening, he’d want nothing more than to cuddle with you on the couch quietly while playing records, usually opera or relaxing music. He likes to be the big spoon, arms wrapped around your waist tightly to secure you. Eventually, the two of you would drift off to sleep in each other’s arms peacefully.
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Guido Mista
Mista would not want to get out of bed unless he really had to. He'd rather be with you and just talk about whatever's on his mind, which are usually random ass theories about food or something.
He’d rub your back, hold you close, plant a couple kisses here and there. He craves your touch, which you happily comply. In the middle of his rambling he’ll suddenly go, “You know I love you so much, right?”
Mista’s also going to be pretty much wearing nothing but his boxers the whole day, can’t be bothered to change. He’s still very warm though.
If by chance you two do get out of bed, he’s sticking by your side. He’ll also order takeout for you both or eat leftovers you both had, since neither of you are in the mood to cook anything.
You two would be lounging on the couch while watching a movie, Clint Eastwood. He’s very big on cuddling, always has his arm around you, just quietly enjoying the movie and your time together.
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Narancia Ghirga
Narancia LOVES lazy days. This man sleeps in until noon for sure, and he’s gonna be out. He’s stuck to you like Velcro too, there’s no getting out of his grasp.
Once he is awake, he sounds so sleepy it’s absolutely adorable. He’ll groan if you try to move, you’re practically his personal heater. He’ll say something along the lines of “Can we just stay in today…? Please?” which you cave in because he was just so damn cute, you couldn’t say no.
Expect you two not to leave his room much. Aside from getting food from the kitchen, you two will be either playing video games or he’ll show you some tricks he learned on his guitar. He still wants to show you that he’s a cool guy, after all.
That’s where he likes to win you over in bets, everything is a bet. One moment he’ll say, “Betcha I can beat this level in less than a minute” and the other he’ll go, “Betcha I can catch this popcorn in my mouth”, he’ll even say something like “If I win this round I get a kiss.”
He may not win all the time, but he knows you love him regardless! He’s just happy he has someone to cheer him on.
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Pannacotta Fugo
Fugo usually takes his days off to catch up on things he’s been meaning to do, which typically consists of cleaning, reading, or catching up on the news, local or national. He needs something to keep his brain active, so he’s always looking for new things to learn.
One of those new things he’s been meaning to grasp is cooking. That’s where you come in to help! Maybe he could learn a thing or two with you. It gives him something good to focus on rather than dwelling on potentially harming others.
He will get pissed if he’s not fully understanding a recipe. Luckily, you’re patient with him so things can calm down before it gets worse. He trusts your judgment too, so thankfully he listens to you.
Sooner or later, the dish is finished, and it didn’t turn out that bad! Fugo’s pretty pleased with himself, and happy that you had a good time learning the recipe with him.
Afterwards, you two would have a little book club. Both of you would pick a book to read and have a chat about it later. Fugo loves hearing your thoughts, good or bad. He’s glad he gets to spend his time with you doing the things he loves, he wouldn’t have it any other way.
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kylo-hen · 4 years ago
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The Milk Man
A/N Hello I wrote this while I was in a Sackler mood yesterday at like 4 am and its the first actual smut I’ve written so bare with me! There is quite a bit of build up because for some reason I love establishing characters. It’s also vaguely  plus sized!reader but not strictly! Anyways, hope you enjoy & my inbox is always open for requests/feedback.
Adam Sackler x Reader
Summary: You run into an intense man in the dairy section in the dairy isle one Saturday Morning, and by Saturday Night he’s in your bed.
Warnings: SMUT! Spanking, name calling, Oral (F receiving), hair pulling, longer build up, and oat milk.
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    Living in New York has its odd challenges here and there. There aren’t dishwashers in unit, rent is the price of one’s soul, people were colder, and grocery shopping was a drag. This Saturday morning was supposed to be relaxing, no work, no designs, no awkward booty calls from dudes I met in the club a moth ago looking for some action. It was all looking up until I looked in my fridge and remembered the Wednesday ritual was pushed back because of a meeting.
     With a groan I resigned myself to the reality that I would have to do some chores before I could allow myself the relaxing pamper day I deserved. Once I was out of my apartment, down a couple blocks, and at the grocery store I was relieved to know that on a Saturday morning it was pretty empty. Only a couple people that really just ignored each other as they passed in the cereal isle or the small produce section.
     It was an overall normal trip until I made it to the dairy section. There in front of the large selection of milk stood, what I could only describe as, a smoldering giant hunched over a comedically small phone.
    Usually in this kind of situation I would let them be, but he just happened to be in front of the only brand of Oat Milk I actually like, so it seemed like I would have to wait it out. This dude, however, was not one to mind social cues. After what felt like five minutes of awkwardly waiting off to the side for this dude to get the message and move on from the last bit of the store I needed before I could get on with my day, I decided he wouldn’t move without a nudge.
     “Ehm,” I cleared my throat softly, hoping that would alert him to my presence, “Excuse me.” The man barely grunted, acknowledging I was there but continuing to frustratedly channel into whatever he was doing on his phone. “Excuse me?” I said louder, hoping to get a civil response.
    “What the fuck do you want?” He finally snapped at me, actually turning to look at me. That was also the first time I was able to see him fully. The man was hot, I’ll give him that much. His tall frame matched by solid muscle, a tasteful amount of facial hair that suited the intense features, and now a scowl. A scowl that was presently pointed in my direction while I ogled at him. “What the fuck do you want?” he demanded again; this time much harsher. I took a step back, not really expecting this full-bodied giant to be yelling at me on a Saturday morning in the grocery.
    “Fuck,” I muttered to myself trying to dip into some of my confidence I gained in the years living here and finding it much harder to let his anger flow off my skin as it usually does. “I’m- fuck- I just need some of the oat milk and you-“ I rambled on but stopped at the sound of a deep sigh from the man in front of me. “I’m sorry, I’ll just-“ I abruptly turned, figuring the milk wasn’t even worth it anymore. The experience spoiled any hopes for a peaceful day, and the faster I made it back to my apartment the faster I could wallow in the new mood crashing over me.
     “Wait, shit!” I heard from behind me before I felt two large hands brace my shoulders. One thing the man didn’t expect was for my self defense lessons to kick in the second he grabbed me. I swung my elbow into his stomach, well because of his height it ended up being more of an elbow to the man’s balls. As I turned and backed away from him, I noticed in his hands he had the milk I was looking at earlier. Shit fuck fucking shit fuck! He was trying to give me the fucking milk!
    “Oh my god, I’m so sorry fuck, shit!” I moved to help him stand up, his face beet red a twisted up as he processed the pain, I unintentionally put him in.
    “Fuuuck,” he groaned out while he took some deep breathes, “I, fuck you’re a good shot… I just wanted to give you the fuckin’ milk.” He muttered out, still mostly bent over. Guilt washed over me in waves. I just attacked the poor guy trying to give me milk, even if he yelled at me earlier. Fuck, I can’t believe I just did that. My body heated up in shame, burning from the inside out, hoping that I could just melt within my own skin. The day only getting worse by the minute, I prayed that I would get to my apartment in peace so I wouldn’t cause any more damage.
    “I’m so fucking sorry,” I said again, not being able to emphasize it enough, as he began to recover more and more, and stand taller but not his full height, “Thank you for the milk.” I said still feeling the dark pungent shame in my chest. As he stood up more and more, he handed me the milk.
    “Don’t-“ he breathed sharply, still regaining his footing after being in pain, “Don’t apologize kid.” He muttered the name out at me and I wondered how old he was suddenly, or how young I looked trembling in the middle of the grocery store. “I was a dick.” He breathed and straightened fully, towering over me.
    “No, no, “ I denied his apology, shocked that he wasn’t pissed anymore, “I shouldn’t just go around attacking people, you didn’t deserve that.” I took the milk that I realized he was trying to give me still.
    “Nah, don’t sweat it kid,” again with the fucking nickname, oddly enough it lit a fire in me somewhere I hadn’t felt in years. “I should’ve known better than to just grab a lady.” He smiled at me, chuckling at his own joke and I smiled with him. His moods sending me for a bit of a loop, but it wasn’t anything I couldn’t handle myself.
    “I still feel bad,” I admitted to him, he tilted his head curiously, “could I get you a cup of coffee or something?” I offered, hoping that he wouldn’t be too offended by the offer. Something about this man was drawing me in, his effect leaving me wanting more and more. What the hell is going on with me today?
   “Oh, I don’t drink coffee.” He stated, rejecting me bluntly and with that statement. The shame bubbled hire a fire burning in my cheeks whether he can see it or not I was embarrassed. Another time I put myself out there, thinking I read a situation one way, and it going very differently. My eyes suddenly very interested at the floor rather than the attractive man before me. “Shit,” he muttered to himself, “Not, I don’t drink coffee but maybe we could get lunch or some shit?” he offered with a cocky smile.
    My eyes snapped up to meet his, a warm feeling that for once wasn’t shame flooded my veins, I smiled at him in return, “Yeah we can get lunch and shit.” I replied easily, proud of myself for regaining some of that confidence I usually held. But then I remembered where we were, and that I had a cart full of groceries I needed to get home, it seemed he was coming down in the same way. “Actually…” I trailed off, not knowing his name.
    “Adam.” He answered and shook the milk carton playfully in lou of my hand, “Adam Sackler.” His crooked teeth poking out through his smile making my heart pound faster in my chest.
    “Adam,” I hummed, testing out the way his name felt on my lips. It felt like they were always meant to say his name. “Since you don’t drink coffee, which seems sac religious to me,” I allowed myself to flirt with him, testing the water, “And I’ve got a shit ton of groceries to put away, what about dinner tonight?” I asked.
     He laughed, unabashedly checking me out, my chest tightened hoping he liked what he saw, “Fuck yeah, dinner sounds great.” He replied confidently, boosting my confidence.
    “Alright Sackler, it’s a date.”
    After exchanging numbers, into his comically outdated flip phone, we decided to meet at the grocery store before dinner. I rushed home to clean my apartment, a girl can be hopeful, and get ready for any outcome of the date. It had been months since any person had given me any romantic indication, dating apps had long since run dry and I was tired of having to explain my size to people before they met me. Rarely after meeting someone, in real life, had they shown as much interest that Adam has shown me in the last hour. That meant I was hopeful and hope was a dangerous game for a girl like me.
    By the time it came to meet up with Adam I was a nervous wreck. My brain kept trying to convince me of the worst-case scenarios as I made the walk to meet up with him. All of those thoughts seemed to fade to black when I saw him. He was dressed casually, as I was as well, in a pair of dark wash jeans and a white t-shirt. He smiled when he saw me approaching, he perked up from where he was leaning and met me halfway.
    “Sorry if I’m late, there was a man trying to save the turtles outside my apartment and I’ve already out run him twice so he’s out for blood.” I joked when he was finally close enough to me. He laughed at my ice breaker, and I thanked all the powers at play that he had a sense of humor, he was shaping up to be quite a catch as long as his mood stayed up.
   “Don’t sweat it kid, I got here early anyways. Fuckin’ in my bones at this point with acting and shit.” He grumbled the last bit as he flailed his arms about. An actor? I’d never actually been on a date with an actor before, I mean with there being globs of them in the city for Broadway and whatnot. I always assumed they were stuck up about looks, and if anyone could be Adam was definitely a hot enough actor to be picky.
    “You’re an actor?” I asked coyly, hopefully digging deeper into the mysterious moody man.     “Yeah, also do some other shit.” He answered vaguely which only drew me in deeper to the mystery of this man. Who the fuck is he? And why the fuck is he so hot? “I know this diner just a couple blocks that way, does that sound good?” He asked considerately, and in that moment, I swear I could marry him.
    “Fuck yeah, I know exactly what you’re talking about, Lou’s is a fucking gem.” He responded with a grin, wide and unabashed, that made my heart flutter. But even when I made my way that direction, he kept his gaze on me, not in a creepy way but in a refreshing way. He acted like if he didn’t take all of me in now, that I would disappear forever, or that I would have been a figment of his mind. When I looked back at him a moment of sadness crossed his features, maybe it wasn’t sadness, maybe it was fear. He looked so young for just a split second, and I saw him, I really saw him.
    So instead of saying anything I simply reached out and offered my hand, and he grabbed it. With that we began walking back in the direction of my apartment on the way to the diner, and throughout the walk we talked about meaningless things like the mean lady that lives in his building to his morning run routine. I kept it light, trying to stay away from sticky topics before we sat down, but I also wanted to actually know who I was going out with.
    Once we were seated, the games began. Adam and I ordered before we got into a grittier subject matter but instead of just asking, Adam wanted to make it more fun. So, like middle school girls at a sleepover, Adam suggested we play truth or dare.
    “Truth.” I stated with no hesitation, what could he even dare me to do right now? It’s not like anything juicy could happen while we were in public.
    “Oh, come on, you scared of what I could dare you to do?” He taunted at me, still flashing his signature crooked grin.
     “I’m giving you an opportunity to ask me whatever you want Sackler, use it wisely.” I goaded him testing his waters, watching his reaction to see if he was game. His eyes trailed down to my shirt. Bingo, he’s interested.
    “Alright Kid, when was the last time you got laid?” He went straight out of the gate with a sexual question. The longer I spend with him the more apparent it becomes that Sackler might be a little sexually deviant, that thought only escalated the fire burning in my belly.
    “It’s been about six months since I got laid,” I started, “But about a year since I actually, let’s say, enjoyed getting laid.” I clarified, feeding into the building sexual tension.
    “Hmm, that’s a crime,” he responded, trailing his eyes over every part of me visible across the booth, “They should be punished for leaving a woman like you unsatisfied.” He murmured, leaning forward tracing a finger along one of my hands placed on the table. Every light touch, even if it looked innocent, felt dirty and drenched in the want I had for this man.
    “Truth or dare Sackler?” I angled my torso to him so he could see down my shirt, I could see his reaction, his eyes start to glaze over, his mouth open, ready. I had never been with a man so openly affected by me and at every move I took the opportunity to tease him.
     “Fuck, Truth.” He said, not really paying attention to what he responded with but more paying attention to the parts of myself I was revealing to him.
    “What do you think of me Adam?” I asked softly, some could even say sensually, as I retracted my hand and my body, ripping away the points of contact that he was latching to physically and visually. He suddenly retreated his stance as well, looking me in the eyes to see a knowing smile already dancing across my features.  He groaned playfully, knowing he played right into my hands.
      “Fuck, kid, what do I think of you?” He asked redundantly, “For starters I think you’re the biggest fucking tease and if we weren’t in public right now, I’d put you over my knee and punish you.” He began, speaking in a low threatening tone. Every word, every syllable, every fucking letter sent a shockwave to my core, shaking my resolve and tumbling every other instinct down. I let a soft delicate whimper, only loud enough for him to hear, pass my lips as I closed my eyes and leaned my head back to take in what else he was saying. “You’re a tease, but you’re also fuckin’ gorgeous.” I snapped my head open, not expecting a real genuine compliment from the sexual haze we were in.
    “What?” it slipped out of my lips before I could really do anything about it.
    “Kid,” he began, by putting his hand on top of mine and staring so far into my soul I felt like I was naked in front of him, “You’re so fucking beautiful, like I- I saw you this morning and fuck I think you might actually be perfect and fuck! Like even if you’re not, you’re better than that.” He said and I couldn’t remember the last time I had ever felt like this, maybe never. He was so different, and intense, but funny, and God I want to sleep with this man, but I also want to cook dinner with him and see how he likes his eggs, or what his favorite book is, and who hurt him. I want him, and he wants me.
    “Thank you,” I began, getting a bit shyer under the smoldering chestnut eyes, “I don’t think anyone has ever called me gorgeous before, or if they have, I can’t remember.” I explained, trying to brush it off as a joke, but he doubled down.
    “They must be blind kid, or stupid.” He chuckled to himself, “Probably fuckin’ both.” He smiled, and I smiled back, bursting at the seams, but before I could respond our waitress came with our food.
    The spell we were under before we got food was somewhat broken when we were eating, returning to the more casual atmosphere, talking about our jobs and whatnot. He was really interested in knowing more about my job which made me feel almost as special as before the food came, but I kept it to surface details for now. Adam had a lot of weird habits from what I could tell, he cursed like a sailor, and he got super intense then switched back to normal out of nowhere. Yet, despite all the odd facts this man drew me in every time he opened his mouth, he had me on the edge of my seat constantly. Throughout the meal I couldn’t help but wonder, what’s going to happen next?
    When we both finished our meals the tension from before began to seep back into the conversation in doses. By the time the waitress returned with the check it was pretty clear Adam was ready to get out of there, and I wasn’t much farther behind. While Adam went to fish for his wallet, I threw enough cash out on the table to cover both meals, not wanting to linger for change. Adam looked like he was going to protest, but I just offered my hand out to him.
    “I asked you out,” I explained, leading him out of the restaurant and back on the sidewalk. “Its only polite I pay since I invited you out.” I turned to him and realized he was much closer to me than expected. He took a step closer to me and his long shaggy hair began to cover his face.
    “I guess I’ll just get it next them then kid.” He offered with a smile and I looked away, feeling an excitement bubble through me for more. “We never did finish our game.” He said not teasing anymore, I looked at him and pondered for a moment before answering his unspoken question.
     “Dare.” I said confidently this time, leaving him to smirk down at me in pride. He puffed up his chest and moved even closer. He leaned in like he was going to kiss me but just before he allowed our lips to finally meet, he stopped.
    “I dare you to kiss me.” His gruff tone sending my nerves haywire, a chill running down my spin at the command. His eyes darker than I had seen them, only balanced by the smirk on his lips daring me, goading me to follow through. The final straw was the sensation of his hands settling heavily on my waist, keeping me steady and sure as I surged forward and planted my lips on his.
    From there he wasted no time gaining access to my mouth and invading each of my senses one by one.
    Touch; the feeling of his tongue languidly pushing against mine, fighting a war for dominance and winning without hesitation. His hands finding themselves roaming over every point of my body, and mine deeply nestled in his hair.
    Sight; the possibilities of what comes next floating by in my head in vivid detail. The sheer number of ways this encounter could finish, all unbelievably tempting.  
     Sound; the deep velvet groan from his dulcet tones when I tugged on his chestnut locks, the whimper that snuck out of my mouth when his hands made home on my backside.
    Smell; the dark woodsy pine notes of his cologne mixed the sweet vanilla of my perfume creating an intoxicating scent.
    Taste; nothing I’ve had in my life could compare to the taste of Adam on my tongue, the feeling of wholeness only grew. My wanting grew with it, wondering if Adam tastes good now, what other perverse acts would taste even better.
     Eventually the heated kiss broke, and the depths of Adam’s eyes told me everything I needed to know in that moment. “My apartment is just a block that way.” I spoke breathlessly, pointing behind us in the direction the night would take place. He threw his head back with a groan, a sight that sent shockwaves of anticipation through my body and to my center. He nodded his head furiously.
    “Fuck yeah kid, lets go.” He spoke, pulling me along with my hand to head in the direction of my apartment. By the time we made outside my apartment and pulled out my keys Adam sprung into action, pulling my back to meet his front allowing me to feel the full effect I’ve had on him throughout the night. His errection dug itself into the curve of my behind and suddenly I realized just what I would be dealing with for the night. Adam Sackler is fucking hung.
    His kisses trailed up my neck, his hips grinding into my body and the noises he was making were borderline pornographic. The task of opening my door was lost as I allowed myself to lean back into the pleasure, he was giving me. His hand trailed down my arm slowly as he sucked on a particular spot behind my ear that made my knee buckle in bliss. His hand wrapped around mine, that was still holding the keys, and raised it to the door.
    “If you don’t unlock that door now, I’ll fuck you in the hallway.” He threatened, no doubt in my mind he would follow through with the threat. I quickly refocused on getting my key in the door and getting this man inside.
     As soon as the door was shut, he had me pressed against it, mouth pushing against my own once again, but now his hand travelled under my shirt kneading my breasts in his large sturdy hands. I reached, clawing at his shirt to come off as he unclasped my bra from the back, which only succeeded in turning me on. Once his shirt was removed, he made quick work of mine, stopping only to marvel at the sight of my topless body. He stared for just a moment too long, doubt flooded my veins and my throat tightened at another failed encounter where someone didn’t like what they saw.
     Just as I resigned myself to my own fate, reaching down for my shirt, Adam took both of my wrists and pinned them above my head. Once again pushing me against the door and pinning me from any other means of movement.
    “What the fuck do you think you’re doing?” he demanded with a dark grit in his voice I had not heard before, his fire like anger only lighting the fire of hope in my belly once more.
    “I thought,” I started and as soon as I began to speak, he ground his erection into my core, effectively beginning my decent into madness. “Fuck, Adam that feels good!” I cried out rather than explain myself.
    “Come on little girl,” He teased breathlessly into my ear, obviously enjoying the act as much as I did, “Explain yourself to me.” He spit out all that came out of my mouth in return was a needy whimper and shuttered breath. It set my body on fire, turned my bones to jelly as he shifted to hold my weight for me.
    “I- fuck- I thought you didn’t like it.” I said softly, simply as the pleasure built with every thrust of his hips against mine. My back arched as he slowed to a stop, my eyes shooting open to see him looking down at me with furrowed brows.
    “You thought I didn’t like your pretty little tits huh?” he looked down at me, and I nodded softly, shyly up at him and his eyes softened slightly. He made the move to prop me up against the wall and move his body down. He kissed his way from my jaw down to my chest, finally settling with both his hands caressing my breasts. “You have,” He punctuated it with a small suck on my chest leaving a hickey a few centimeters above the nipple, “The most,” He took his sweet time worshiping every square inch of my chest, “Glorious tits I’ve ever fucking seen.” Finishing it off with an intense attachment to my nipple that sent earthshattering shockwaves throughout my body from the first real contacted pleasure Adam had given me all night.
    “Please, baby girl,” he murmured against my tits as he moved further down my body, “Let me eat your sweet little pussy.” He spoke, the dirty message matched only by the lewd and carnal tone he spoke with. Before he could anywhere with my pants, I took his hands and began leading them to my bedroom, which wasn’t too far away.
    He followed like a lost puppy trailing its owner, looking at me with wide and hungry eyes, taking in every movement my body made. As soon as I laid back in the bed, he made quick work of my pants, pulling them off with my underwear in one swoop. I let him handle me however he wanted and he moved with swift expertise that had my core drenched by the time he was done.
     With his hands stabilizing my hips, keeping them pinned to the bed, he sat between my legs admiring the sight laid out before him. He smirked at my disheveled appearance, trying desperately to hold on to my sanity and he hasn’t even laid his hands on me. Suddenly his tongue was on me, taking one long stride of my core before focusing on my clit.
    “Fuck yes!” I shuttered out when he brushed his tongue in a zig-zag on my clit before detaching with a sadistic chuckle. He explored every part of me, places no man had ever considered now have me careening towards the pit of bliss at lightning speeds. He took his time prodding at my hole while swiping his nose at my clit and in that moment, I swore no one was better at this than Adam fucking Sackler. My hands twirled themselves into his hair tugging harshly, making him pause for his own pleasure. Only then did I notice his gyrations on the mattress himself, which sent my mind into an overdrive of pride and arousal.
     “Your pussy tastes so sweet for me baby girl.” He hummed smugly into my pussy, the vibrations bringing me that much closer to the edge. He looked up at me, watching me fall apart as he brought his hand to my entrance working in a finger, beginning to stretch me out for him. “Your pussy’s tight, that for me?” He spoke, knowing I was way too close to orgasm for me to respond with anything but whimpers of his name mixed with any expletive that comes to mind.
    “Adam,” I called out, tightening my hands in his hair, trying to signal him for more. “Please!” I cried out, his pace slowing to a teasing momentum before he added another finger without warning. My head tilted back, losing all sense but the sense he was feeding me through his ministrations. I was teetering a dangerous ledge and with every thrust of his fingers he brought me to the edge. He took one last thrust of his fingers hitting the deepest part of me, paired with his tongue swiping my clit and the damn burst within me.
    Euphoria was flooding my system; I was floating in orgasmic bliss surrounded by nothing by the feeling of Adam bringing me through my haze and the smell of sex mixed with his cologne. After what felt like a lifetime of bliss, I felt him begin to kiss his way back up my body, taking special care of my stomach, sucking hickeys along the way.
    “You’re so good at that.” I murmured, still coming down from my high. He chuckled into my neck before coming up to my face and planting a big kiss on my lips. I immediately responded, wrapping my arms around his shoulders and bringing him flush to my own body. I could taste myself on his lips, his facial hair still coated in a layer of my cum, which only added to the kiss. “Adam, I need you to fuck me.” I said as I broke the kiss. His eyes lighting up again like in the living room, he moved away from me to finally take off his pants.
    “Condom?” He asked as he stood in his boxers, outlining his prominent erection pulsating in need. I only shook my head, moving to the edge of the bed where he stood to palm him over his boxers.
    “I’m on the pill.” I whispered seductively in his ear, he nearly doubled over in pleasure once the statement registered in his brain. He wasted no time taking my hips and twisting me around so I was on all fours before him. A deep feeling of butterflies reverberated in my stomach as I arched back into the hands he planted on my ass. He let himself groan at the sight of me before him once again, this time he had his hand moving over his thick cock.
    He rubbed the head of his dick over my pussy before catching it at my hole and pushing forward. The sting of him stretching me was not lost on him as he braced himself around me, caging me into his dick. He hissed as I clenched around him, trying to accommodate the difference. “Fuck your pussy’s so fucking tight you’re gonna squeeze me out.” He gritted out through clenched teeth, waiting for my signal to go ahead. His dirty comment only helped relax me, sending me spiraling in euphoria.
    “Adam, I need you to move.” I whined out, desperate for the friction he was made to bring me. He pushed farther and farther in until he was buried at the hilt. Both of us shuddered out, he filled me to the brim, his body made for mine in ways I had never felt before. Suddenly he pulled back and slammed back in with a deliberate force, landing perfectly on my G-spot. I cried out his name, the only thing I could remember at this point.
    “Yeah, yeah that’s it,” He praised my squeals of pleasure, “Say my name you fucking whore.” He spit out making my pussy clench around him in absolute pleasure. The way his hips slammed against mine, the way his hands groped at the cheeks of my ass, mixed with the things coming out of his mouth sent me into another dimension. “You like that you little slut? You like when I call you dirty little names?” He prompted me, adding a harsh slap to my ass to punctuate his thrusts.
    “Yes!” I cried out, burying my head into the sheets, letting Adam have his way with me exactly how he wanted. “Yes, I love being your little slut! Fuck!” He landed another spank, jolting me forwards on his cock. He retaliated by taking charge with my hips once more, grunting out insults mixed with praise.
    “Are you gonna cum? You gonna cum on my fucking cock you whore?” He stopped his thrusts, teasing me and my climax fading. “If you want to cum on my cock, fuck yourself on it.” He demanded, his hands kneading and soothing the damage he caused my backside already. I began rocking back on his dick, creating a similar rhythm to before. The harsh slaps echoed around the room and the lewd situation escalated my frenzy. “That’s its little slut, you’re fucking yourself so well.” He lost himself in the pleasure of it all, meeting my thrusts halfway.
    “Adam,” I moaned out, feeling the same euphoric anticipation building in my gut, I escalated the force trying to push myself to the place of bliss. “Adam, I’m going to cum!” I announced feeling the cliffs edge building and building. His hands trailing up my back and grabbing a fist full of my hair and pulling me flush against his chest, changing the angle so he was pushing deeper inside me.
    “Cum for me little slut.” He commanded, another hand wrapping around me to rub my clit in time with his thrusts. The bubble built higher and higher until I felt myself release for the second time that night. His thrusts continued, faltering as my body spasmed in absolute satisfaction, his grunts of pleasure travelling into my ear as he chases his own high.
    As his hips begin to falter their rhythm, he pushed into me for one last time before he let go and painted my insides with the ropes of his cum, marking me from the inside out. He wrapped his arms around me, collapsing us both on the bed, his cock still inside me, beginning to soften as he spoons me from behind. Our highs collectively lower and he is left trailing small kisses on the back of my neck and shoulder.
     “Where have you been all my life?” I joked once the atmosphere was returning to normal. He chuckled out, squeezing me into his chest even if I didn’t necessarily fit, and shifted his hips away from mine for the first time slipping out of me.
     He moved to look at me properly before saying, “Brooklyn.”
A/N: Thanks for reading! Let me know what you thought, my inbox is always open!
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violexides · 4 years ago
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grief and healing: a little ramble
hey.
so, i’m crying right now. but it’s in, like, a happy, cathartic way? and i really wanted to talk about it, even though this is my main and i typically don’t hit on my own emotions here, at least not anymore. because i think, through this messy ramble, there is some kind of take-away here? so, here’s just a little ramble trying to make sense of this all.
two years ago to the day, someone who i wasn’t close to but i knew passed away. i found out about this two years from tomorrow. and, i’m not going to go into detail on that, because it’s a lot and... not strictly pertinent. what i know is that they didn’t pass on in the happiest of ways, and that getting the closure of that entire situation, for myself, was harder than i expected.
and, i really changed as a person, back then. the sunflower i was two years ago is nothing like who i am now. i’m hardly recognizable. and for so long, i told myself that the sunflower i ‘became’ was the bad sunflower, that i had fallen off of some path that got me here, that the person i am now is not someone i could be content with because, how could i be?
and that’s sort of what brings me here, i guess.
last year, exactly one year ago, i was a fucking wreck. i couldn’t make my way through the school day, i was such a goddamn mess, and i told myself, i made a promise to myself, that i wouldn’t forget. and when i told myself that, i thought in my head that this meant, like, every year i am going to tear myself to pieces. that i had to atone, in some way, by doing that.
and, i think that’s something really important to talk about, because in full honesty? i am more okay today than i thought i would be. i had my lows and i had my highs-- and right now, i’m in a high-- but overall, i am okay. and, i was so pissed at myself this morning and yesterday, because how could i be happy when something so horrible happened? did that mean i was forgetting?
and the thing is, i didn’t forget. i still remembered, i still kept it in my mind, i still thought about it moment to moment. but i’m okay. and, and from there i started talking to some friends, and i started thinking.
i’m not the person i thought i would be, and i’m not the best person in truth. there are some flaws in myself that i want to improve upon, some aspects i dislike. but i’m not an awful person. and for so long, i really thought i was, because the day i found out, something like two years ago, i sat on a table in my class and cursed god and started sobbing, and i’ve never felt more lost than i did in that moment.
but, what i sort of came to a bit ago, and why i started crying so much, was that... i’m not in the best of places right now, but i’m not in the worst of them, either. that i, as myself, am worth something. and that maybe, if they could have seen me get to this point, they would have been happy to see me trying to cheer up people, or get the strength to reach out to people i haven’t spoken to in a bit, or work for a mental health activism group to help stop students from finding themselves in the same place they did, two years ago, or just... be proud of me. and the thought that they could be proud of me is the closest thing to closure that i’ll ever get.
i wasn’t there for them. at the end of the day, i wasn’t, and i never came close. but i can still be there for other people. i can still make people smile in the way they always did, when they were still here. and i think that’s important, knowing that i can move on, that i don’t have to forget them to feel okay with myself.
i remember the night that it happened, i laid in bed thinking, something awful is going to happen. and i used to think i was cursed, for thinking that, for ‘knowing’ something i couldn’t have seen coming, couldn’t have anticipated.
but i’m not cursed. i’m someone who lost, and grieved, and did what she could to atone, and got to this place where i realize, now, that i’m doing all that i can. that the past is set behind me, and i need to keep my eyes on the present and the future. i need to protect and care for those i love instead of mourning the person i used to be, or apologizing to the one i lost.
and i wanted to share that to maybe hit on this point. grief lasts a long time, and grief doesn’t look one way or another. but you can get through it, and you can heal, and it isn’t your fault, you aren’t awful for being who you are. and there’s someone out there who cares for you.
this morning, i was consumed by numbness, trying to rationalize why i felt nothing when something so horrible happened years ago. tomorrow, i may be sad. in exactly a year from now, i may cry over this and relapse into grief, and i may do that even when it isn’t an anniversary. 
but that doesn’t mean i lost progress. it just means that i’m a person, trying to make sense of what i went through when i was younger, trying to be as good of a person as i can be, trying to make sure the people i love so, so much are okay. 
you are loved. and, i hate to end this on a tone of desperation, but if you are contemplating suicide, please call the suicide hotline, 1-800-273-8255 for america, but there are hotlines for other countries out there. the world lost one kind soul two years ago. i hope the world doesn’t lose you as well. you are so fucking important, and you make the world the place it is.
the world may be fucked, right now. my life, too, may be fucked. but i’m glad that you’re here in the world, and i’m glad i’m here in my life. and i think, right now, that’s what matters.
i’m not going to conclude this with the assurance that i will always be okay. i know i will have shitty days, that i will look at this in pure confusion, that i will grieve and mourn and scream and break and find, at the end of the day, that i’m not someone to be proud of.
but in this moment, right now? i’m okay. i really, really am.
and that’s what matters to me right now.
--
and. i know they can’t read this. i know that that’s impossible. but.
if they could. if they could. i’d want them to know that i was proud of them, too. and i’m sorry they never got to be older than 12, but. i was proud of them, and i cared about them, and i just hope that, wherever they are, that they’re okay. 
i think that’s all i can hope for, right now. okay-ness.
--
okay. that’s all i had to say. thank you for listening.
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xxx-cat-xxx · 5 years ago
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Stairway to Heaven (almost)
Summary: When the Hulk breaks the elevators in Stark Tower, Peter and Tony have to climb to the top in order to repair them. 93 floors shouldn’t be an issue, Tony tells himself, and, in typical Stark-fashion, completely ignores his heart condition. Turns out that was a bad idea.
Tags: Heart issues, Fainting, Whump and humour and a tiny little bit of angst, Irondad, Pepper/Tony, Bruce&Tony
A/N: For @greeniebean2014, thank you for the prompt and for medical consultancy services ;) Major thanks to @whumphoarder for beta reading.
________________________
“What exactly is the Hulk’s problem with elevators?” Peter inquires when they cross the 19th floor of Stark Tower and start climbing another flight. 
The boy is jumpy and impatient, but his breaths are even and, as far as Tony can see in the dim emergency light, there’s not even a hint of exhaustion on his face,. The engineer, on the other hand, is already starting to pant, his cheeks feeling flushed as he tries his best to keep pace with the kid.
“He’s just not a fan,” Tony huffs. “No idea why.” 
That’s not true, strictly speaking, because Tony knows very well that it all started with a certain event in 2012, but thinking about that would mean thinking about what happened to New York on this particular day, and that - no, not now. 
Tony’s always bragged that out of all the things he’s built, Stark tower is one of the coolest. Located in downtown Manhattan, with a fully wired artificial intelligence that’s adaptive to its inhabitants’ respective needs, containing a vertical garden, thirteen gyms, seven swimming pools, and labs that would make the AAAS go green with envy, it is certainly something to be proud of. Not to mention that it is the first of New York’s skyscrapers that’s exclusively running on green energy. 
The tower is also very, very high. Not, as some journalists suggested gleefully, because it has to compensate for anything, but because Tony wouldn’t build a skyscraper with his name on it that wasn’t visible from the ocean. And why go for 50 floors when you can have 93? He wanted to see where to land when he comes back from business trips with his private jet, or, more recently, feel more than a bit smug when returning from a mission in his Iron Man suit and spotting the Avengers symbol shining high above New York. 
Today is the first day he curses himself for each and every one of those 93 floors. 
“At least he could have left the power supply alone,” Peter goes on. “I mean, Hulk is pretty dumb - don’t tell Dr. Banner I said that - but somehow he managed to destroy the entire system.”
“Yup,” Tony replies short-windedly.
Peter gives him a side glance. “Do you need a break?”
“Do I look like a pensioner to you?” Tony retorts in mock-offence. “I once crossed half of Tennessee in a snowstorm while dragging my own armour behind me. This little workout is nothing compared to that.”
“Okay, okay, I was just asking,” Peter appeases. “By the way, did I tell you about the new web-fluid formula that Ned came up with?”
The kid starts to ramble while they make their way towards Tony’s workshop on the 79th floor, where, in a moment of maybe not-so-genius, he has installed the controls they will need in order to get the arc reactor in the basement back online. The tower is protected against pretty much every imaginable outside threat (and even against most of the inside ones) but Bruce, of course, has access to almost every part of the building and Tony never thought that Hulk would be clever enough to disable all the security measures protecting the main power supply. 
By the time they reach the 26th floor, Tony has started to pant for real, unable to conceal his breathlessness any further. When they cross 32, his chest starts to hurt with every step, and he thinks that maybe a break wouldn’t be that bad after all. But the kid next to him is still taking the steps two at a time, not even a bead of sweat on his brow. So Tony grits his teeth and tells himself that this means he can skip his exercise routine for the next couple of days. 
At 35, Tony’s head is swimming and his fingers begin to go numb. There’s an irritating tingling sensation in his left arm and that’s when he knows that things are Not Great™. He makes it another two floors before the pain in his chest spikes and his vision blacks out completely for a moment before turning into a blur of colours. Tony’s foot catches on the next step. He stumbles and would have fallen if it hadn’t been for Peter’s quick reflexes.
“Whoa, Mr. Stark, are you okay?” the kid asks in panic while he lowers Tony down onto the floor.
Tony grunts and tries to get back up, just to realise that he can’t really differentiate up and down anymore. His own heartbeat is pounding loudly in his ears, pulsating in time with the stabbing pain in his chest and the pattern of black and grey in front of his eyes. 
“Mr. Stark, what’s going on?” Peter’s voice is openly worried, his hand still holding tightly onto Tony’s arm.
“‘m okay,” Tony manages. “Jus’ give me a sec. Gotta take a breather.” He feels himself list to the side and is glad when his shoulder finds a wall he can lean against. Tony lowers his head onto his knees, fully aware of how stupid he must be looking, and waits for the symptoms to subside.
They don’t. Instead, his vision goes from fuzzy to spinning, the pain from bad to worse, and he is suddenly very nauseous. Tony swallows hard, determined to preserve his last bit of dignity and not throw up in front of the kid.
“Mr. Stark?” The kid addresses the ceiling when Tony doesn’t reply. “FRIDAY, what’s going on with him?” The AI doesn’t answer, of course, because the power is still out, which Tony could have told him if he had any intention of opening his mouth. He feels bile rise in his throat and gulps.
“Do you feel sick? Are you gonna puke?”
Tony manages a shrug. “Dunno,” he grunts out through gritted teeth.
He feels more likely to faint on the spot, but he isn’t going to tell this to the kid. Peter is saying something else and Tony thinks he can make out Pepper’s name, but the kid suddenly seems very far away. Everything has gone sort of slow and muffled. There’s another stab of agony in Tony’s chest, and he can’t suppress a groan. He’s used to pain, been in a lot of it, but this is definitely somewhere in the upper end of his tolerance scale. 
Tony closes his eyes and tries not to stop breathing.
“Tony? Can you hear me?” He opens his eyes again and makes out a very blurry Pepper, her red hair shimmering like a halo behind her face.
“‘m okay,” he gasps, “’s just s-stupid heart -” He reaches for the staircase railing, determined to get back to his feet and pull himself together and -
That was a mistake. The pain in his chest spikes. Tony can feel his body fold into itself - can hear Peter and Pepper yelp in unison.
Then he passes out.
*
He wakes up to the steady beeping of a heart monitor and an entirely different kind of pain in his chest. Tony blinks himself awake and waits for his vision to clear while the faces of Pepper, Bruce, and Peter slowly swim into focus. 
They are in the medbay. Bruce is wearing a mismatch of clothes and a worried look on his face, Peter has streaks of tears on his cheeks, and Pepper looks to be somewhere in between relieved and very, very angry.
“Hey, I’m back online,” Tony announces to no one in particular, then has to interrupt himself to cough against the dryness in his throat.
“How are you feeling?” Bruce hands him a glass of water, luckily with a straw in it because Tony doesn’t feel quite up to sitting just yet. 
“Good, good. Guess I’m okay now,” he lies. “Why the long faces? You all look like Happy when he found out Downton Abbey wasn't getting another season.” 
“That’s not funny,” Peter replies with a seriousness unusual for him. 
“It is, actually,” Tony retorts. “For weeks I’ve been trying to get Pepper to take an evening off and have dinner with us, and turns out all it took to get you three into one room is - what is it that’s wrong with me? Feels like the Hulk danced on my chest.”
Bruce turns pale at the words and swallows hard before speaking. “You were in ventricular tachycardia, which means that your heart was beating in such a way that it wasn’t getting your blood to the rest of the body. We had to shock you back into sinus rhythm. Pepper performed CPR before we got you to the medbay. She, uhm, might have broken one or two of your ribs.” 
Tony mimics a shocked expression. “Wow, Pep, I get that you’re pissed at me, but no need to get violent…” he trails off upon seeing Pepper’s stony face.
Bruce gives him a serious look. “Sorry to tell you, Tony, but it looks like you’re gonna need to get a pacemaker. As soon as possible, I think.”
Tony replies nothing.
“Tony?” he repeats.
“Yeah, I know,” Tony finally says without looking up.
“Wait, you know?!” Pepper’s voice is so shrill that he winces.
“I had an episode a couple of weeks ago and contacted a specialist,” Tony admits, weakly raising his hand to stop her from interrupting. “I’ve got a check-up appointment scheduled on Friday, and if everything goes well, I’d get the pacemaker before the end of the month. Nobody would’ve even realised. Just, maybe, shouldn’t have climbed forty stairs. Stupid elevator.”
There’s a break. Peter looks shell-shocked. Bruce is chewing his lower lip. Pepper Potts is actually speechless for once.
“I am so sorry,” Bruce starts, his cheeks going red. “I didn’t think I’d ever have an incident in the tower, I am really -”
“Bruce, stop,” Tony orders with as much strength as he can muster. “We talked about this. It’s not your fault that the Hulk has a personal grudge against elevators.” 
“But if you knew that something’s wrong with your heart, then why did you even think of climbing 80 floors?” Peter speaks up. “I could have gone upstairs on my own!”
“See, advanced planning when it comes to my own health isn’t really...what I do,” Tony admits with a weak grin. “Sorry for scaring you, though. You shouldn’t have been there.”
“Oh, it’s actually a good thing that he was there,” Pepper replies with a sardonic smile on her face that makes Tony suspect something evil. “I couldn’t have carried you all the way to medbay.”
“You did what?” Tony glares at Peter. “Please tell me she’s joking.”
“Uhm…” The kid’s face takes on an even darker shade of red. “There wasn’t really anything else we could’ve done, I mean, with the electricity out and all that…”
“Oh god,” Tony buries his head in the pillow, “I think I’ll just pass out again. For the rest of the month, maybe. And then I’ll fire you, kid. After making you sign a confidentiality agreement.”
The kid looks actually intimidated for a second until Pepper gives Tony a stern look and says, “A thank you would be more appropriate here.”
“Yeah, yeah, thanks, kid.” Tony lifts his head up again to look at Peter. “I mean it. FRIDAY, for the record, interns with super strength are very useful. Should be added as a criterion for the application form on the SI website.”
Peter tries to hide a chuckle. “I’m glad I was there, Mr. Stark. But really, you should take better care of yourself.”
Tony, mature as ever, sticks out his tongue at him.
There is a moment of silence in which Pepper gives a confused Bruce a very pointed look, until he suddenly says, “Oh, Peter, what about a hot chocolate? You look like you could use one. And then you can give me a hand fixing the power supply…”
Peter is a bit quicker on the uptake. “Okay, Dr. Banner.”  He almost trips over his feet while walking backwards out of the door.  “See you later, Mr. Stark. And don’t try to get up yet.” 
Bruce pushes himself to his feet with visible exhaustion and gives them a tired wave before disappearing out of the room. 
“See,” Tony spills the moment the door has closed behind the two of them, “I would have told you, I swear. I’ve been seeing this specialist about developing a custom pacemaker, but we’re not yet sure whether it is gonna be effective with all the scar tissue in my chest and I didn’t want to get your hopes up before I was 100 percent sure it would work.”
He makes his eyes as big as possible before looking up at Pepper. “Please don’t be mad?”
With a sigh, Pepper shifts her chair a little closer to the hospital bed. “I am mad,” she emphasises. “But I’m also glad that you didn’t die while climbing the stairs. And proud that you’re working on getting it fixed, though I’m not sure yet which of them is stronger.”
“Well, that’s…” Tony struggles to sit up a little against his lumpy hospital pillows and grunts when the pain in his ribs flares up, “that’s something I can work with.”
“How are you actually feeling?” Pepper asks. “And no lies this time.” 
“It hurts,” Tony admits. “My chest. And, well, there’s the aftershock of almost dying.” The corners of his mouth twist into a smile. “But what else is new?”
Pepper’s expressions softens. She reaches for his hand on the blanket and takes it in both of hers, giving it a squeeze. Then she reaches up to his chest and lets her flat palm rest just above his traitorous heart. 
Pepper doesn’t often talk about feelings, and if she does, she phrases them in a rational manner - so unlike Tony, who swings back and forth between stinging sarcasm and cheesy declarations of love. But he knows what she’s saying now, through the concern in her eyes, through the fingertips that outline the scars between the electrodes fixed to his bare chest. 
I need you. I was so scared of losing you. Don’t be gone again. 
Tony lays his hand on top of hers. “Thanks for saving me, Miss Potts,” he whispers. 
She smiles in response. “That’s my day job, Mr. Stark.”
The lights suddenly flicker back on, replacing the green emergency glow with a cold white light. Tony blinks against the sudden brightness, feeling a headache throb against the back of his skull. He’s exhausted as if he’s been on a three-day mission. Although his original plan was to sneak out of the hospital bed and repair the elevator as soon as Pepper goes back to work, he now wonders whether a bit of rest might not be a bad idea. Not while he is alone, though.
“You gotta get back to SI?” he asks casually, wondering somewhere in the back of his mind whether there will be a day when he’ll simply be able to utter the word stay.
“Oh, seeing that the electricity went out, I postponed my meeting. I guess it’s okay to be absent a little longer and just answer a few emails from here,” she replies just as casually, nodding at the StarkPad poking out of her handbag.
The thing about Pepper is, sometimes she just gets him. 
“Well then, be my guest,” he says with a smirk. “Make sure that Bruce and Peter get some rest after repairing my tower - poor guys have had a long day. And could you ask someone to check up on Dum-E and U…?”
“Sleep.” She silences him with a light kiss on the lips. 
He takes her face in his hands with somewhat uncoordinated movements and kisses her back, hard, until he has to stop to take a breath. He feels very complete, slightly winded, and also a bit woozy. Pepper catches on to that and raises an eyebrow. “No sexual activity until you get your pacemaker, boss,” she teases. 
A small smile spreads across Tony’s lips just as he can feel his eyelids start to grow heavy. "We'll see about that."
__________________________
@badthingshappenbingo This is my fill for the ‘Broken Ribs’ square.
All my fics
Taglist: @toomuchtoread33  @yepokokfine
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sign-from-god-complex · 5 years ago
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I have a crack au idea for you- taken seriously or not. Asmr Channels AU. Logan’s have page turning, whispered facts, or silent videos. Roman has a bunch of RP videos, rarely is he himself and if he is- its him rambling about self care. Patton’s channel is mostly petting cats/dogs asmr, cooking, paint mixing or the goo stuff. Virgil is silent and never shows his face in his videos but his binaural sound affects like rain and thunder are fantastic. He also does ear to ear talks about anxiety
And as extra- remus’ are always ear eating or some gross obscene shit that makes the front page, and deceits videos are full of fx makeup and roleplays as well as quiet tapping. I’ve thought way too much about this because fuck i listen to so much asmr.
clone! clone! clone! okay, I also listen to a ton of ASMR so bood af on that front, also this could definitely be taken as crack but I love YouTuber AUs (in general for all fandoms) so I’m gonna take it seriously.
Alright, so I love the idea of Patton being like,,, the Dad of their corner of the ASMR world–like, he does ASMR videos that are also kind of educational (healthy tips, positive affirmations, step by step recipes, etc.) as well as very soft and caring (big brother/best friend roleplays, tucking you into bed, etc.). The others all absolutely watch him and would all vehemently deny it if asked because they don’t want people to know how much they need all of that.
Patton’s the only one who’s met all of them in real life and they also all independently came to the conclusion that they adore him and would protect him with their life (platonically or romantically, you decide) and again, would absolutely deny it if asked.
Virgil I agree would be great at soundscapes and things like that–sounds of a forest on a cold, winter’s night; thunderstorm outside your bedroom window; etc.–and definitely specialises in the slightly creepy while still being relaxing. He’s also done some more experimental stuff, like playing around with different sounds on the mic and dedicating videos to the ones that worked.
He’s never shown his face or even said anything though which is why it’s such a big deal for him when he agrees to a collab on Dee’s channel of Dee doing his makeup. (Pretty much) everyone was really nice about it and so, even though he doesn’t do it often by any means, he knows he has a little more freedom to make videos with his face or voice in it if he wants to.
I absolutely love the idea of Dee doing makeup stuff and I think he could do roleplays but they’d be a lot more sparing–something sort of ridiculous treated genuine like, “Planning To Overthrow The Government - Roleplay” or something like that. He also had a pretty popular series where he imitates other ASMRtist’s styles, even going so far as to dress up like them. He’s done everyone in their little corner except for Remus cause he refuses to stoop to that, no matter how easy he would be to imitate.
Roman turned up to their apartment semi-unannounced, so the two of them have done a collab together, though it was mostly unplanned. It ended up being a slight disaster because Dee wouldn’t stop flirting and Roman wouldn’t stop laughing, but they did end up with a passable video–and learnt that they actually get along quite well.
Remus started creating ASMR videos to spite Dee–his roommate–except then he actually started to enjoy it. And then he realised his brother had actually been doing it for years too and, since he was gaining notoriety pretty quickly, he continued not only cause he enjoyed it, but because he knew it would piss the two of them off.
He started with mouth sounds and eating videos and that sort of thing, though he pretty quickly stumbled upon the slightly weird roleplay videos that exist and was absolutely sold on them. So, he’s made a series of kidnapping ones, vampire feeding/turning videos and even an Addam’s Family roleplay. He got Dee to assist with costuming and makeup for that one since he decided it was necessary to play every single character himself. Virgil’s the only one of them who actually watches Remus’s videos but he thinks if he brought it up, both Roman and Dee would find a way to silence him. So he doesn’t.
Roman definitely also does roleplays, though he does the considerably more common ones–doctor, hairdresser, store clerk, etc. His favourite one he did was a guardian angel roleplay cause he got to employ all of that religious knowledge he’d gained growing up but didn’t really use. He’s done a series of softly singing you to sleep videos too, and he also does videos in Spanish as well as English.
Roman discovered Virgil’s love of Disney when he made varying Disney themed soundscapes on his channel and so when they meet up at a con they definitely do a Disney themed collab–a roleplay on Ro’s channel and more trivia on V’s.
Logan does more strictly educational facts because he initially started creating the videos purely for himself. His hypothesis was that since you learn a language well from exposure, that could translate to other methods of learning. Therefore, if he surrounded himself by the knowledge he needed to know when he was relaxing or right before going to sleep it could blend into his subconscious and assist him in processing the information.
He shared this method with Virgil–his best friend–who was basically willing to try anything to help him study. V said while it may not have necessarily helped him study, he did fall asleep really quickly and then subsequently explained to him the concept of ASMR. Logan was actually drawn in almost immediately.
So, Logan makes educational videos as well as some simple sound videos Virgil has helped him out with, as well as videos where he simply read part of a fiction book or textbook. His first roleplay was a librarian one and he kept getting excited about the books, and Virgil, who was helping him out with it, couldn’t stop pointing out what an absolute nerd he was.
I may have gone slightly overboard here but, uhhhh, yeah. I really love this idea.
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tweakerwolf · 8 years ago
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Boyfriend to Death question: is everything to know about the characters in-game or are there tidbits of backstory info about the guys in outside sources (creator blogs)? —A person who is missing 5-7 endings for everyone, is stuck because already got the easier endings, and is kind of ashamed of having to use a walkthrough even though it saves me from wasting hours of trial-and-error.
Edit: So I rambled on a bit there…. I’m putting it under a read more XD just so that way not everyone has to scroll past it hahaha. There’s no spoilers (since I normally put spoilers under a read more), it’s just a few paragraphs so it’s on the longer side of a reply.
Um…. hmmm…. I want to say that everything you need to know is in game for both the first and the second. I technically follow Sano and Akira (characters from the first game) but I didn’t do that until AFTER I completed the first game. So I knew nothing about any of the men. I recognized Strade from Gato’s comic, but BTD!Strade is an AU Strade and it has nothing to really do with the comic. Demon!Rire is also from a HUGE AU that Darqx came up with about one of their other comics/stories but I knew absolute nothing about that AU at all. Or even the original story. I can’t say if that made the first game harder for me or not, I haven’t thought about it! But I do remember EP saying that they had to really change Sano around (personality-wise) in order to really include him in the game. So I feel like it’s safe to say that the game is an AU of their characters in general.
The same holds true for the second game as well (I’m assuming you’re asking about the second game but maybe you are only on the first?? But still, this is more evidence that the game is mostly just a fun AU of their characters). I know nothing about Lawrence, as far as I can tell he’s a new character of Gato’s?? I haven’t seen reference of him anywhere before but I could’ve easily missed something. I know Cain already existed but I knew very VERY little about him, just some tidbits on EP’s blogs, nothing that gave me a lot of background on him. And I didn’t even think about his background when I was playing, I just focused on what the game was telling me. Vincent I also knew nothing about, other than he was a werewolf. Technically speaking, if you know Ren’s backstory then his path makes A LOT more sense, BUT…. how he acted in the past doesn’t fully give away how he acts in the second game. Ren has evolved in a way, and it keeps the player guessing!
Honestly I think it’s just the game itself. There are a majority of endings that are easy to find (on average, of course individuals are going to have different play styles). There are the ones that are strictly dialogue based, you piss them off and then you’re dead! It’ll happen the same way every time! But then there are others that are a little bit harder. They require a certain heart level with the guy. Easier when you’ve died a few times and you are starting to understand what the character likes and dislikes.Then there are the ones that require a very specific path of dialogue to be followed. Require not only a certain heart level, but also a certain sanity level too! One missed dialogue choice can keep the ending hidden from you and it’s frustrating!!! Personally I think there’s no reason to be ashamed in needing a guide or two, the characters are complex and the choices are complex. Even if you are getting the same dialogue choices over and over, the combination that you select them truly matter in the hard-to-get endings.
I’m sure once you find those hard endings, it’ll make more sense. There was never a point when I was playing either game where I KNEW what to click because of some outside-of-game tidbit. There are easter eggs of course though! You recognize them referencing a character, or some artwork on their wall! But those kinds of references have mostly just been extra; exciting things to be like ‘I know that!’. I’m not sure if the game designers did that as a way to be fair (since obviously some players are going to be more knowledgeable about their works), or if they just didn’t want to make the game too easy. Honestly if I had to guess, I’m sure it’s the second XD They didn’t want people to have the guys figured out so they didn’t use too many aspects of their background/personality that were well known.
If you’re ashamed of using a guide but at the same time I totally understand how trial and error can take up hours of time!!! I say, try following a guide a little bit at a time. Don’t read the WHOLE thing and then find the ending. Read down the dialogue until you come to something you haven’t clicked before. Stop there. Play the game up to where you read (save) and then try to figure out the rest of the ending from there!  So if you’re reading a guide and it’s like Pick up _____ and you’re like we can pick that up??? Obviously you’ve never gone down that path before so try it :) That way MOST of the figuring out is still coming from you, maybe you won’t feel as bad about using a guide :)
ALSO, I’ve been giving out hints :D Feel free to use those hints. If the hints are really BIG, the ask will be tagged as spoilers. Try reading the basic hints first and then if you’re still stuck, try the “spoilers” edition of the hints. Or, feel free to ask me :) If you have a specific ending you want to get (obviously you’d have to ask by number since you wouldn’t have the title of it lol) but don’t want to be totally spoiled, I can give hints on how to get it… to the best of my ability. Hints are a lot more fun since it lets YOU find the endings yourself, with just a push in the right direction :)
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5soswriting-blog1 · 8 years ago
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What is This? (Ashton Irwin)
After lightly knocking, I waited outside the apartment door for Ashton. The hallway smelled like piss and the neighborhood his apartment was located in didn’t exactly make me feel the safest. But, Ash was my science partner and with the weeks we spent procrastinating, we only had two more days to get this done as soon as possible. Luckily, not even ten seconds had passed before the door opened and I saw his brown, curly mop that he calls his hair pop up from behind it. His light face was flushed from running to the door and I if I looked past him I could see where he hurriedly threw the broom I’m sure he was using to sweep.
“Come in,” he said breathlessly as I walked past him inside the apartment. It was nothing like I was expecting, but in a good way, it was much better. There were records hanging on the wall if they weren’t the ones piled on a desk next to the stereo, and a few guitars were lined next to the television stand. The furnishing was nothing complicated, a kitchen table with a few chairs, two couches in the living room that had video game counsels piled in front of it. A regular New York apartment occupied by two boys.
“Michael is out right now, he just left. The twat said he wanted to give us some ‘alone time’,” he said after laughing, his voice rising into a higher octave and his face getting even pinker than before. I nodded my head, laughing at Michael’s action. What did he think we were going to do on a first date? Date, is this even considered a date or was this strictly only school? I mean, Ash told me he was into me, but date? Ashton wasn’t really the dating type. We may not have been in high school, but college was no different when it came to girls gossiping about the boys on campus, and boy, was Ashton a name you heard a lot.
There were a few seconds of awkward silence until Ashton stuttered out that he made us dinner to eat before we got to work.
Okay, that’s definitely a date, right?
He placed his large calloused hand on my lower back and led me towards the small kitchen table. He pulled out my chair and I looked up and thanked him before sitting down. I decided to not mention the foul stench of something burning in the apartment, almost sure that it was probably the dinner he was talking about. As he walked to the other side of the table and looked down to see what he prepared, he chuckled at the attempt of chicken and carrots in front of me. The chicken was burnt to a crisp and the carrots weren’t entirely cooked, but it’s the thought that counts.
I glanced up at Ash sitting across from me, and my smiled faltered as I saw worry in his emerald eyes and how he began to nervously gnaw on his bottom lip.
“I’m sorry it’s scorched completely. I don’t cook, like, ever, but I really tried, and I don’t have enough money to actually go out an-” he had rambled out, wringing his hands before I interrupted him.
“Ashton!” I yelled so I could be heard over his rambling. He finally stopped talking, his thin lips in a line and his hands stopping their movement, waiting for me to continue. I smiled a genuine smile and reached my hand across the table to lay on his. “It’s okay. This is perfect,” I whispered caressing his fingers with my thumb. The worry left his eyes, and he smiled widely, making the dimples on his cheeks sink in.
We ate for a while hardly talking about our project but rather about ourselves. He told me about how he missed his family back home in Australia and I shared that I couldn’t have been happier to be far away from my family, even though it does get lonely. The conversation came to a stop and silence fell upon us as we finished our meal. It wasn’t uncomfortable silence, it was the type of silence that’s needed when reading a good book, and it was comforting. But, I was confused at where opening up and still holding his hand left me with him. I never gave ‘us’ a thought, not with all the things other girls were saying about him still worming its way into my mind.
“Ash, what are we doing?” I asked bluntly, letting go of his hand and placing my own on my lap. Better to get it over with. Rip off the band-aid.
“What do you mean?” He asked right back, his hand running through his hair before placing it back on the table, his fingers thumping to a beat I couldn’t recognize.
“The dinner, the hand holding, you telling me before how you felt,” I began to list off. “We’re not in high school anymore, Ashton. Are you just playing a game or do you want something to happen here? Because I need to know,” I finished. His constant beating on the table began to mix with the thoughts running through my head, making it almost unbearable. I slammed my hand back onto his to get him to stop which led him to lace our fingers together once again.
“I thought me telling you how I felt would have been enough for you to know that I want something with you,” Ashton sighed followed by a light laugh. “I know, I don’t have the best reputation with girls, at all, but I really like you. And I really want to give ‘us’ a shot,” he said, a blush creeping its way to his cheeks.
Try as I might, I couldn’t help but let the smile I was trying to fight off consume my face. I stood from the table, letting go of his hand, and turning around to head towards the sofa. I spun back around to see a confused Ashton, sitting there and looking at me, wonder in his eyes.
“We have a biology project we need to work on, and then we can talk about ‘us’,” I explained to him as I took a seat and opened up the Bio book he had laying on the coffee table. I felt the spot next to me dip down from his weight and an arm sling around my shoulder. I refrained myself from placing a kiss on his neck that was leveled with my face, even though it was awfully difficult. I had to give him something to work for.
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corvid-knight · 6 years ago
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Demon Eyes - chapter 10
https://archiveofourown.org/works/13740258/chapters/31990530
Karkat's right; it only takes about forty-five minutes for the pleasantly weird dizzy feeling to mostly wear off. Mostly. There's still a comfortable bit of euphoria left over. It makes everything just a touch more pleasant, for no reason at all.
Dirk offers Karkat a room, and the demon just shrugs and grumbles something about how he wants to keep an eye on you. And yeah, maybe that gets a raised eyebrow from your cousin, but he doesn't say anything about it. Which is good, because even with the leftover magic high you probably would have gotten immediately, intensely uncomfortable with any questions Dirk could've asked.
So the room that Karkat carried you to so you could come down, that's your room. (And his.) For as long as you stay, anyway. Which could be a while—you did promise Rose you'd stick around until she came down to see you, after all. Anyway, you'll be here long enough to justify bringing your shit in from the truck.
Karkat's been shanghaied by John again; Hal makes at least an attempt to help carry stuff in, but after a couple trips back and forth, he notices Bro's laptop, its bag tucked under the seat, and pulls it out with a quick glance at you. "How open would you be to my going through this? I'd like to see if that asshole had any info he wasn't sharing with the rest of us."
"It's probably gonna be encrypted, but knock yourself out." The phone's on the console between the front seats; you snag it and toss it to him. "Might be shit on that too—just, like, be careful going through the pics if you decide to do that."
Hal grimaces as he catches the phone, sliding it into one of the outer pockets of the laptop bag. "Unless he collected glyphs of unmaking—"
"Not sure what that is, but I don't think so."
"Right. Good. I'll be fine, then; fucked-up shit doesn't bother me quite as much as it does Dirk or the others." He pauses halfway through the movement of digging out one of your bags, a thoughtful look spreading across his face. "...which might possibly say something about my morals, I suppose. Or lack thereof."
"How come?" You yank the bag all the way out—Hal seems more hesitant to treat your belongings roughly than you are—and try to remember what's in it. Bro's clothes, you think. Karkat can take anything he wants, and you're making a goddamn bonfire out of the rest.
"The obvious assumption for a normal human is that a person who isn't immediately and viscerally disgusted by graphic images is one who's comfortable with them." Hal shrugs, taking the bag out of your hands and slinging it over his shoulder. "Maybe even desensitized to them, possibly approving of them."
"Are you?" You don't really expect an affirmative answer, but you're curious as to how exactly he will react. You're probably risking pissing him off...but that didn't occur to you until after you asked.
Hal just shakes his head. "I do have morals. I can recognize atrocities as such—not sure if that's the right word for what's on the phone—"
"It's. Uh. It's a pretty good word for some of them."
"Ah." There's a hesitation, maybe just to acknowledge what you just said and maybe to give him time to consider what you might mean. You're not going to enlighten him. "...that's not the sort of thing that upsets me, but I'm as capable of knowing what's morally wrong as anyone is."
"Well, other than Bro. Obviously." Damn, I seriously didn't need to say that.
"Obviously," Hal agrees, and glances at you as you stop to get the door to your room open. "Would you mind if I saved any images that'd incriminate him as..."
This time, the hesitation is definitely him hunting for a word that's descriptive but also inoffensive enough not to hurt you. He really shouldn't be worried about that second one.
"As a sick fucking bastard?" you supply, and Hal smiles a bit.
"Exactly that. Just in case."
You almost ask in case of what? but you guess you do know, actually. Just in case anyone tries to say that his death wasn't justified. Just in case you and Karkat need protection later.
"Take whatever you want off of there, dude." As you take the bag back from him, you think of an exception to that offer. "...uh. Just, like. Do me a favor, alright? Delete anything of me that you find."
He gives you a sharp, very-like-Dirk look that you pretend not to notice at all. "So I'm going to find compromising photos of you?"
"Maybe. Dunno." Bro didn't usually keep the kind of pics you're thinking of longer than overnight—at least you don't think he did. It's entirely possible he's got a whole file of them, buried deep enough that you never found it in your quick forays through his electronics. More than possible; probable.
You don't want anybody seeing the pics he took of you like that. Bad enough it happened at all—it'd be fucking horrible, humiliating almost beyond anything Bro did to you, to have anybody else know.
Hal's just watching you, head tilted. You realize that you let this pause go on longer than is comfortable. Fuck.
"Look, if you do find any? Delete 'em. I sure as hell don't want 'em."
"Of course." He nods, stepping out of the room. "And I'll show you anything I want to save before I save it, just to be sure."
"Yeah." God, you don't know how to thank him for that. "That's, uh. That's good, that's great." Dammit. You're not good at this kind of shit.
Hal doesn't seem to mind, at least. "Give me a couple hours and I'll have these back to you," he says, and then he shuts the door and you're left to finish unpacking by yourself.
Which is also, actually, good.
It's more like four hours before Hal reappears. You spend the time sorting out shit you want from shit you don't, making Karkat go through the latter category to see if there's anything he wants (other than a couple shirts, there isn't) and obtaining permission from Dirk to torch it in the backyard.
Piled into the firepit and soaked with a cupful of diesel siphoned from the truck, it all burns pretty damn nicely. Maybe petty destruction shouldn't make you feel this much better, but fuck it. You think you've earned the right to be petty against the fucker this stuff belonged to.
Rose calls Dirk before you're all the way done watching the fire. She wants to talk to you, once she knows you're there, and he ends up bringing the phone out and leaving you with it, and you talk to her for a good hour, sitting in the grass and watching clothes get converted to ashes as you do.
She tells you that she's engaged, to a vampire. Kanaya, she says, and you have to grin at the way she says it. Rose is most definitely in love, and you're more than happy for her.
She tells you that she and Kanaya are flying down in a week or so, and they're stopping to pick up Jade and bringing her down too. Then she has to ask you if you're okay, because you managed to choke on absolutely nothing at the mention of Jade and cough into the phone for a solid minute.
You're fine. Just. Surprised. With a couple questions.
Yes, Jade is fine. Apparently she's a shifter now (which gives you a definite what the fuck moment), bitten by a werewolf a couple years ago. Rose spends maybe five minutes rambling about the fascinating interaction of the bite's curse and Jade's latent magic (you didn't actually know she had magic at all), which combined to make her something distinctly different from a were. Yes, she remembers you; she's excited to see you. Yes, she knows you're traveling with a demon, and she's more than okay with that.
The fact that everyone's okay with you being this close to a demon is taking more than a little getting used to.
By the time Rose has to hang up, the sun's half-set. Dirk and John are working on what you assume is dinner, and Jake's using the floor of the living room to do a tarot reading for Karkat. You try to avoid stepping on any of the cards as you sit down on the floor next to the demon. "He tell you anything you don't already know, 'kat?"
"A couple things." He shrugs and scoots a few inches closer to you, enough to just barely touch. "I think Jake's being flattering. There's no way those fucking cards are calling me heroic as often as he's claiming they do."
"Oh, be quiet." Jake huffs and looks up from his work, pushing his glasses back up. "My interpretation is the most accurate you're going to get, Mr. Vantas."
Karkat groans at that name, rolling his eyes. "Please fucking forget I ever told you my last name."
"No can do; I need that for accurate divination." Jake smiles brightly, reaching down to gather his cards up into one pile. "Dave, I'd like to do a drawing for you tomorrow."
"Uh." He'll know shit about you, maybe more than you strictly want him to. But Jake's not going to use whatever he learns against you. "You can do me now, if you want."
"I'm afraid I might've already done a few too many rounds today, actually." He shrugs, giving you a quick, apologetic smile. "My own stupid curiosity, making me keep fooling around when I have a headache. I'll be fine so long as I stop trying to do readings for a bit." He finishes straightening up his cards and gets to his feet, almost bumping into Hal on his way out of the room.
Karkat raises his eyebrows as Hal comes straight over to sit where Jake was a minute ago, watching as the shikigami opens the laptop he's holding and starts typing. "You look pissed over something."
"Accurate." Hal nods, eyes fixed on the screen. He doesn't look upset to you. Well, not unless you really focus on the set of his shoulders and the stiffness of his calm expression. "Dave, question."
"What?"
"Do you still want to see the images I wanted to save, or no? I...didn't quite realize how bad some of these are. I know you might not want to look..."
Karkat growls softly as Hal trails off. Dave, don't you dare.
I can take it, you think at him, and nod at Hal. "Yeah, it's fine. Lemme see."
He spins the laptop to face you, and you immediately regret that decision. There's just thumbnails up, but you can still see the pics well enough for your brain to supply the details. You got to see most of these in all their original bloody horror, after all.
Fuck. Fucking bastard.
"Fuck this," Karkat growls, reaching forward to shut the laptop; you catch his hand right before he can touch it.
"Hold up. Hal, this one—"
He leans over to see which one you're pointing at. It's not a really bad one; just an image of a tattoo with blood mostly obscuring the pattern and a series of teeth marks dug into it. Human teeth marks; you know that even if it's hard to tell from the picture. "The one with the fucked-up protection rune?"
"Yeah. Delete it." Just looking at the image provokes a faint phantom pain at the base of your neck, and you have to restrain yourself from rubbing uncomfortably at the scarred tattoo there. "And any other pics you saved of it, I guess. Copy whatever else you want and delete the originals, okay?"
"Of course." He nods, spinning the computer around again. "Twenty minutes tops."
"Yeah. Thanks." Without thinking, you lean against Karkat.
The fact that his immediate reaction is to wrap an arm around your shoulders is so comforting.
You wake up at somewhere around two in the morning, briefly confused by the fact you're curled up on top of someone before you remember that it's Karkat. The grin that that realization provokes brings on the second realization that you really need a drink of water.
Getting off of Karkat and out of the room without waking him up isn't all that hard. Finding a fucking glass in the kitchen is more difficult, actually; every cabinet door creaks, and every time you make any kind of a noise you can't help but freeze, even though odds are nobody can hear anyway.
Call it force of habit.
Eventually, though, you find a cup and get your drink, rinse the glass off and leave it in the rack to dry. When you turn around, Jake's standing in the doorway, watching you.
Which nearly gives you a heart attack. How the hell did you not hear him?
"Uh..."
"Hello, Knight of Blades and Fortune." The words come out of his mouth at what seems like half-speed, and he cocks his head to one side, eyes half-closed as he smiles at you. "You've come a long way."
"Jake, what're you—"
You stop when he shakes his head slowly. "The Page of Wands sleeps."
"...okay, then." You're not entirely sure what's going on, but Page of Wands would be as good a card for Jake as any. He is a bearer of important news, after all. "You oughta go back to bed if you're asleep, man."
That earns you a slow smile from him. "The Page is asleep."
"And you're not?"
"Perish the thought." Okay, that comes out closer to how Jake normally sounds. "Tomorrow."
"What about tomorrow?"
"A task for the others. It wasn't meant for you, but without you—" He raises his hands, cups them in front of him and then jerks them apart, bowing his head. The gesture's oddly terrifying, and even though it should be meaningless you know it does have a meaning. Destruction.
Well, fuck. Not like you can let that kind of thing happen. "So I gotta go along on whatever job y'all end up getting, huh?"
Another shrug as he raises his head. His eyes are closed now. "Free will is yours to invoke, Knight."
"Yeah, yeah. C'mon, let's get you back to your boyfriend, alright? Let him figure out your prophecy shit."
Jake doesn't react to that, but he lets you lead him to Dirk's room, and Dirk doesn't seem all that surprised at being woken up. He just nods when you tell him what Jake said, mumbling a sleepy thank you before pulling him into the room.
You can hear Jake start to talk again as Dirk shuts the door, and you can't help but wonder whether it's more predictions or just sleeptalk. Either way, Dirk might be up for a while.
Karkat growls at you when you crawl back into bed, opening his eyes for a second before pulling you back on top of him. "You were scared for a minute there?"
"Jake came up behind me, is all." You could tell him that something might happen tomorrow. Then again, you could not do that, and just go back to sleep. You decide on the second. "It's all good."
He just grumbles something unintelligible and drapes an arm around you. With him this comfortingly close, it only takes you a little while to fall asleep.
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