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#I've been waiting my whole life for this movie
svartalfhild · 2 years
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Forgotten Realms Things from the Honor Among Thieves Trailer
Here's some Lore™ I spotted after pouring over the shots from the DnD movie trailer and I'm obsessed:
The city is Neverwinter. Several things point to this
The city silhouette looks like Neverwinter
You can kinda make out snowflakes on the blue banners in the street and that's Neverwinter's emblem
The statue outside the arena is very clearly Lord Nasher, from his crown, to his Neverwinter Eye belt buckle to the bow in his hands which is shaped exactly like one of the fancy bow types from Neverwinter Nights
There's a shot of a volcano, which might be Mount Hotenow, which is near Neverwinter
The sun banners look like symbols of Amaunator, which is...interesting. Could also be a weird variation on the symbol of Lathander. There's a lot of fuckiness with that lore. Could maybe just be festival banners?
Chris Pine's character, Edgin, is a Harper. You can see his crescent moon+harp pin in all the shots where he's wearing armor. This fits super well with him being a bard.
All them bald people with tattoos on their scalps? Red Wizards of Thay. The lich-looking one? Probably Szass Tam.
Conveniently enough, there are notable Harper and Red Wizard cells in Neverwinter.
Michelle Rodriguez's character, Holga, is probably an Uthgardt barbarian if this is set in The North. Possibly from the Elk or Griffon Tribe, given the vague shape of the tattoos on her arms and the location of the story. I'm leaning towards Elk.
The shot of the battle where the black dragon flies overhead is between barbarians and warriors wearing black helmets with dragon wings on them.
The presence of banners with elk horns on them would give credence to Holga being from the Elk Tribe.
I think the warriors in black are Zhents, because the Zhentarim's emblem is a black dragon on a gold field, they are allied with a black dragon named Harondalbar, and literally the main character is a Harper, so the chances are high you're gonna have Zhents.
Alternatively, given the amount of dragons in this trailer, we might be seeing some Cult of the Dragon shit and those soldiers are cultists. Or the amount of dragons could just be an effort to live up to the title "Dungeons and Dragons"
The party goes to the Underdark.
I'm like 80% sure the city we see in the Underdark shots is Menzoberranzan, because why would they write any other Underdark city into Thee DnD movie? Also it's the right region. Cue me screaming about dark elves potentially being in the movie. EDIT: I have been informed by multiple people (thank you all) that the Underdark city is in fact most likely Gracklstugh, a duergar city, and the fat red dragon is Themberchaud. I defs need to read Out of the Abyss now.
The runes on the golden chest are Dethek, the script for several languages, including Dwarvish, Primordial, and Giant, but given that they're underground and there's a bunch of statues of dwarves, I think we know which language is on that chest lol
Those statues could be duergar specifically, given that we know they'll be in the Underdark, but there's no way to be sure. EDIT: well given previously stated info, it seems pretty likely.
The shot with the big rock hill (cairn?) could be the Surbrin Hills
That shot of the dead forest with the red ground? Almost certainly the Dire Wood.
Regé-Jean Page's character, the paladin Xenk, has detailing on his bracers and a tattoo on his hairline that look like a sun, which would suggest he follows Lathander/Amaunator
ADDITION: the snowy place is Icewind Dale, as confirmed by the creators+cast in interviews.
This is everything I could spot. If people spotted or have ideas about anything else, feel free to add.
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drkineildwicks · 11 days
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Also while I'm on here running my mouth I've been thinking
While also listening to podcasts like WDW Pro
And you know disney has a habit of purposefully setting up movies to fail, right?
Two most well-known examples being Treasure Planet and Atlantis: the Lost Empire
Don't remember which one it was but they released it the same time as the first Harry Potter and Lord of the Rings movies
And then Princess and the Frog released about the same time as the last Harry Potter movie
And they used this to justify their whole "weLl nO oNe wANts to sEE 2D anYMore!" rhetoric
Which is bull
But the thing is, hollywood has destroyed so much goodwill with the general public that there's no guaranteed blockbusters anymore, any that have done well as of late only did so after the fact and through word of mouth
And yet there's one notable exception this year:
Sonic the Hedgehog 3
The first two films gave us good movies, made the fans happy, and were fun romps that won't age poorly (yeah Sonic flosses but he's also the equivalent of a kid on a perpetual sugar high)
And the second film a couple years ago set up the third film in a way that gets everyone excited because Shadow the Hedgehog (and I still have yet to get over the voice cast X'D)
So there's a minimum of one film this year that has a baked-in audience that has been looking forward to it for a while
Yes technically the Beetlejuice sequel does too but honestly I'm wondering how many of us are poking that date with sticks going but are you real?
So in thinking on it...Mufasa might be set up against Sonic 3 by design, although I'm not sure what the logic would be considering it's 3D and that's what they killed their bread and butter off for
Maybe as a tax write-off *shrug*
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giantkillerjack · 1 year
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As time goes by, I find I am less likely to wake up in the middle of the night to needlessly hate on myself for some random awkward harmless thing I did 10 years ago.
I'm still up in the middle of the night feeling a deep primal urge to needlessly hate on things from years ago, but now it's more just things like
MAN I SHOULD PROBABLY MAKE ANOTHER POST ABOUT HOW MUCH I HATED BLY MANOR HUH
#bly manor#the haunting of bly manor#listen. I'm sure if I were to carefully analyze some of junji ito's short stories I would find some of them to be thematically lacking#BUT THEY AREN'T 10 HOURS LONG ARE THEY#truly the worst kind of horror movie is the kind that lasts for over 9 hours and then makes you feel stupid for getting invested#I was tricked by the good acting and the good cinematography into believing that there would be a good story at the end of the day#the kind of ending that just makes you think surely I'm not understanding this correctly surely they didn't mean to say THAT#but then you think about it a little more and it's like oh no I have been bamboozled#I feel the same way about Kubo and the two strings which - like bly manor - really shits the bed in the last 10 minutes#But ultimately this is where it was going the whole time.#I've seen a lot of bad horror movies but none of them have wasted my time like this. I know it was a TV show but#if it had been a movie it at least would have been over relatively quickly and I could have moved on with my life jfc#anyway everyone should go watch Fear Street 2021 it's the only good horror franchise ever made good night#okay it's not the only one but if you want a lesbian horror series that fucking rules#that's the one#Netflix was like want to try The Haunting of Hill House and I was like only if this writer lives at Hill house and I get to do the haunting#original#I mean not having good theming in a movie is one fucking thing but in a cohesive horror series??????#I feel like I went to a restaurant where they don't serve food but they only told me after I waited for the food for 13 fucking hours.#this is not filling this is not nourishment this is BULL
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foone · 1 year
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I see a lot of people joking about the adhd thing of "I have a appointment/phone call at 3pm, guess I won't do anything all day!"
But no one seems to make the connection that it's a time blindness thing. One of the symptoms of ADHD is not having a good and accurate sense of time. And not doing stuff prior to an event with a hard deadline is an obvious coping mechanism for that.
Can I go to the store? It's 10am and the appointment is at 3pm. How long does going to the store take? An hour? Three hours? Five hours? I DON'T KNOW!
I get anxious trying to do things before appointments because I'm aware that I don't know how long those things take, and that if I think I do, I may be very wrong. Too often I've been like "hey I can walk to the corner store and grab a drink, that'll take like 15 minutes!" and then an hour later I get back and whoops my rice has burnt.
Plus there's also the fact that ADHD people know that motivation and focus is a two-edged sword.
Like, let's say you decide to play a video game. You've got time, you can pause/save whenever, so this should be a perfect fit to make good use of your waiting-time. So you start playing and WHOOPS you get really focused for some reason today (because people with ADHD do not get to pick when their brain decides to focus) and the next time you look at the clock it's 2:49 and you haven't showered or dressed and the appointment is 30 minutes away. Fuck. (you could have set an alarm, but now you're asking people with the forgetting-things-and-time-ignoring condition to remember it set alarms)
And with motivation, it can be almost worse. Instead of playing a game, you so something useful or creative. You clean your room or fix your plumbing or write a story or draw a picture. And suddenly it's great. Your brain is firing on all cylinders. You've got all the motivation you can ask for, and you are FLYING. the ideas are brilliant, your hands are nimble, you're getting stuff done you've been putting off for weeks or months. And then the alarm goes off. Time to go to your appointment. Fuck.
You drive there, your brain still full of ideas and plans. But by the time you get back, the motivation is gone. You may still have the ideas but you don't have the drive to write them down. You can't force yourself to do it. Your sink is still in pieces. Your room is half-cleaned, and you have to shove all the sorted clothes into one big bin just so you have somewhere to sleep. You've left things half finished again, in a cycle that has been repeating your whole fucking life. It seems sometimes that nothing ever gets finished.
So next time you don't even start. There's not time. You've been burnt too many times. Why add another half-completed project to your pile of shame?
My point is that people seem to be going "lol I can't do anything all day if I have an appointment at 3pm" like this is a quirky "oh I'm so scatterbrained!" weirdness they alone have, and not a major complication of a disabling mental illness.
(and that's not even getting into the secondary effects. If you know that having an appointment ruins your whole damn day, you're going to avoid them. Even when it's things like "going to that party" or "meeting your friends for a drink/game" or "going to a movie with that cute girl from your math class". Things you should enjoy. Things that'd help you be social. Things that make you feel human.)
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catz-purrrr · 9 months
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withahappyrefrain · 4 months
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Ruin the Friendship- Bob Floyd
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Warnings: Best friends to lovers trope, it’s so obvious they love each other they’re stupid, language, filth, some angst (why not?), unprotected sex, oral sex (f receiving), Bob being pussy drunk.
Summary: The night before Bob leaves for Boot Camp, he's learned no one has gone down on his best friend. He's determined to fix that.
Words: 4.8K
This is for @attapullman's Bob Fucks celebration!
When you've been friends with someone since preschool, you get to know them like the back of your hand. Certain quirks and sayings that no longer surprise you. 
“God, I wish that were me.”
It wasn't the first time Bob heard you say that. Usually there was a cute dog around, or a sushi boat being delivered at a restaurant when you said it. 
But saying it during an oral sex scene in a movie was new. 
It also brought up many questions. 
Questions Bob shouldn't ask, considering he's known you since preschool. Questions Bob couldn't ask right now, because he was too preoccupied looking at you. 
Your eyes were fixated on the screen, focused on the actress withering. Occasionally, they would dart to the other actor who was between the actress’ thighs. Bob noticed the increased rise and fall of your chest, how your front teeth dug into your bottom lip, how when you lean forward, the v-line cut of your shirt showed off the tops of your breasts. The soft glow of the lamps highlighted the beautiful features on your face. 
All things he shouldn’t be noticing about his best friend. But then again, best friends shouldn’t be watching a French film together whose plot line focused on sexual liberation before he went off to Navy boot camp. 
Granted, you and Bob haven’t had a conventional best friend relationship in a while, if at all, considering both sets of parents claimed you two promised to marry each other at the age of four. 
Promises or not, best friends shouldn’t be one another’s first kiss. Or make out practice partners. Or each other’s New Year's kiss when y'all were single. Or spend Valentine's Day together at the local dinner. 
The line between friends and something more was blurry, saved by a comment that ensured the other to think that the feelings that had been brewing weren't reciprocated. 
“You’re a good kisser. Kelsey McCoy is going to think so too.”
“If Tommy Delaine doesn't like you, he's a dumbass.” 
“I’m sure next year you’ll have someone.”
“If I had to spend it with anyone, I want it to be with my best friend.”
“You’re an amazing friend, you know that?”
Why say that if you harbor romantic feelings? Surely, all those kisses and talk of marriage meant nothing to them. 
At least that's what the other thought. 
It's because of this blurry line that Bob doesn't bite his tongue, doesn't throw away the comment to be forgotten. Instead, he speaks up. 
“Been awhile?” 
And because it's Bob, the guy you've known your whole life, the guy you tell everything to, your response rolls off your tongue without a second thought. 
“Try never.” 
It takes Bob a moment to process your words as the way your lips wrap around the beer bottle is far too distracting. But just like processing a car accident, once it registers, your words bring his brain to a screeching halt. 
“Wait, never?” The shrug you give isn’t satisfactory. He grabs the remote to pause the movie, ignoring your cries of protest. 
“Real talk; are you saying that no one has ever gone down on you?” 
You sigh, regretting saying anything in the first place. One would think that after years of friendship, you’d know well enough that once Bob set his mind to something, he wouldn't relent until satisfied. 
You down the remnants of your beer, mentally preparing for this conversation. 
“No Robby. I've never had someone eat me out. Happy now?” Reaching for the remote was all in vain, as he just held it further away from you. 
Darn those long limbs. 
“But you've been with people…..so what did they do?” When you looked at him, there was no malice, just Bob looking genuinely baffled. His gentle blue eyes put you at ease, giving you the comfort to explain. 
“They would touch me,” you motioned to the lower half of your body, “And like finger me. Enough to get me ready, I guess.” 
Bob raised an eyebrow, “You guess?” 
College was supposed to be a time for you to explore, to figure yourself out, to interact with new people. 
And yet, when it came to the relationship aspect, everything had fizzled. You were now going into your junior year having yet to experience a meaningful romantic relationship. 
Did you just have shit luck? Or was it because your mind would wander back to a bespectacled best friend when you were in bed with someone else? 
“So instead of eating you out, which would actually be enjoyable on your end, you're telling me they just stuck their hand down there and hoped they were rubbing your clit? You didn't ever ask them to do something else?” 
Bob didn't have the pristine mouth that parents thought he possessed. You knew, and had known for a while. And yet, hearing him say the phrase your clit in his deep, slightly twangy voice felt different. 
You rubbed your thighs together. 
“Are you shaming the people I've been with or me?” 
Bob closed the difference between you and him on the couch, placing a hand on your bare knee. 
Have his hands always been so big and veiny? 
Fuck, did you have a thing for hands? 
“I'm not shaming you. I’m shaming the people you've been with because well,” he ran a hand up and down the back of his neck, “Well, I enjoy giving….I like doing it. So I guess I'm surprised other people don't?” 
His statement was shocking because everyone else you had been with viewed it as a chore, as something to use every excuse in the book to avoid doing. 
Too tired. Takes too long. Wet enough so what's the point? 
“You…like doing it?” 
The tops of his cheeks reddened, despite a smirk beginning to form, “Yeah. I like giving and I like making them feel good. It's also a confidence booster, being able to make someone fall apart with your mouth.” 
It shouldn't come as a surprise, it was Bob after all. The same Bob who always brought an extra pencil with him to algebra, in case you forgot yours. The same Bob who shared his Dunkaroos because your mom refused to buy them. The same Bob who made his dream of serving his country finally come true after years of hard work. 
He was selfless. But this didn't feel like selflessness. Hearing him talk about giving pleasure, making someone fall apart with his mouth, was different. Even his voice when he said it was different, raspier than usual. 
“Well,” you scooted closer to the edge of the couch, trying to widen the gap so he couldn't feel how hot your body was, “I can't wait ‘til I meet someone who feels the same way.” 
“You don't have to wait.” 
The grip on your beer bottle tightened, the alcohol getting caught in your throat. There's no way he could have just said that, no way he could be implying what you're thinking. 
But when you look at Bob, he was staring back with raised eyebrows and thin lips curled into a little smirk. The same look he’s given you countless times before when he mumbles a smartass comment only your ears were privy to hear. 
You heard me. 
“What-are you…” You stared at him, mouth agape. Bob appeared unphase by it, like he had just offered something totally normal and rational. 
Perhaps it was the three beers he had downed. Perhaps it was the rush of adrenaline kicking in after realizing this was his last chance at making a move before he left. 
“Wouldn't that be like crossing a line?” Your head was racing, alternating between flashbacks of when you kissed Bob and imagining what it would be like to have his mouth on your body. 
“Wouldn't be much different from what we’ve already done.” 
All the air was sucked out of the room by his comment. Because of course he wasn't doing this because he wanted to, because he wanted you. This would be meaningless, just like everything else. If you went through with this, you’d wake up the next day to Bob leaving with nothing changed, still in this seemingly endless limbo. 
Long, nimble fingers hooked themselves under your chin, gently forcing you to look up. 
The look he gave you was unfamiliar. His eyes remained focused on your face, though it seemed like they were searching. 
For what, you couldn't tell. 
After what felt like an eternity, he finally spoke, his voice barely above a whisper. 
“Do you want it to be different?” 
What good was telling him if he didn’t feel the same way, thus ruining a great friendship?
“Do you want it to be different Robby?” You countered back. 
He leaned in, his breath hot on your face, “I asked you first.”
He thought he had the upper hand. But you were like a lightning bug, faster.  
“I asked you second, Robby.”
Like a rubber band, the tension snapped as Bob was unable to hold back a snort of laughter. The tension left your shoulders, the sight of him laughing familiar and safe. 
“I’m going to really miss your resounding maturity,” Bob deadpanned after gaining the ability to compose himself, though a sweet crooked smile remained. 
It was now your turn to roll your eyes, though it didn’t stop the smile currently forming on your face. Seeing this side of Bob was always fun; most folks thought he was quiet and meek. The truth was that he liked to observe and didn’t find value in speaking when it wasn’t necessary. He didn’t hold back with you, didn’t feel the need to sit and observe. He truly conversed with you and you’d be lying if you said it didn’t make you feel special. 
He was never that way with the other girls he dated. 
“You love me,” you teased back. It was a comment you've said countless times, always with that sweet, albeit mischievous smile that made Bob's heart flutter. 
But this time instead of shaking his head or rolling his eyes, he leaned forward until your foreheads were touching. 
Seeing him up close took your breath away. You could see how his roots were beginning to darken, the blonde fading as he got older. The little scar on his chin from a BB Gun incident when he was ten. Eyes bluer than the ocean. The ends of his hair were beginning to curl, something you'd greatly miss when he'd get the military mandated buzz cut. 
“Yeah, I do.” There was no teasing in his voice. No mischief in his eyes. Instead of playfully shaking your shoulder, his hand found its way to the back of your neck, fingers cupping your warm skin. He was moving quickly, making you unable to truly process what he had just said. 
Despite it being new territory, he was handling it beautifully. You, on the other hand, were torn between wondering if your increased heart beat was medically concerning and how large Bob’s hands were. 
“You gotta….if you want to stop, tell me,” His breathing had increased, like it did when he had finished his part in the marching band. But this wasn’t marching band practice and y’all weren’t on the high school field. You were in your parents’ basement, with Bob’s lips quickly closing the gap between yours and his. 
It wasn’t your first time kissing Bob, but it might as well have been. Years of experience had given him more confidence. He knew where to put his hands now, one still on your neck to guide you, the other gripping the soft flesh of your hip. He didn’t hesitate to slide his tongue across your bottom lip, successfully driving you wild. 
When the rounded tip of his nose brushed against yours, a soft laugh escaped your lips. Bob didn’t mind, using the chance to let his tongue explore your mouth. Your body leaned towards him, hands gripping the soft fabric of his old Warped Tour T-shirt. 
“I thought you,” your words were slurred, a weak moan interrupting your speech due to his lips moving down to your neck, “Thought you were gonna eat me out.” 
Bob’s moan vibrated against your skin, sending shivers down your spine. His hands traveled to your breasts, gripping them through your T-shirt. It wasn't a hard squeeze, which is what you were used to. 
It was pleasurable. Bob was pleasurable. 
“Did none of the guys you were with do foreplay?” He asked, his hands continuing their ministrations. 
“I-fuck- yes they did, it just never took this long,” you grunted against his lips. 
“God, you have terrible taste in men.”
You wanted to let Bob know that he was now included in that group. But then his fingers hooked themselves around the band of your shorts, pulling them down. Had you known what tonight would entail, you would have opted for underwear that wasn't so worn. The long hairs on his arms tickled your sensitive skin as he moved to kneel on the floor, the cool basement air making you realize just how wet you were. 
How could he do that so quickly? 
He pinned your hips against the soft couch cushions. With anyone else, you would complain with how hard he was gripping your soft skin. But with Bob, you’d love it. It meant hand-shaped bruises that would stay after he left, reminding you of tonight. 
When his sharp nose nudged your clothed slit, a loud gasp erupted from your mouth. 
Thank god your parents were on vacation. 
His tongue was so wide as it stroked the quickly dampening fabric. How was he able to find your clit so quickly? Most struggled to find it even after your panties had been taken off. 
Bob couldn’t help but chuckle upon hearing your strained whimpers. You were practically squirming, hips erratically jerking with every touch. 
“Wha-why did you stop?” You whined, looking down to find him staring up to you. 
“Are you-I just need to know, do you still want this?” God, he was so fucking considerate. In any other moment, you’d find it endearingly sweet. 
But if his tongue felt that good against your covered cunt, you were dying to feel it without the barrier. 
“Robby, I swear to god, if you don’t eat me out, I’m going upstairs and using my vibrator,” Your voice was strained, your knuckles turning white from gripping the couch cushions.  
He laughed.  Bob knew you were bluffing. He had just gotten started and you were already so wet. 
Slowly, he took his glasses off, placing them on the coffee table behind him, making a show of it. 
“Won’t need those. I’m nearsighted after all.”
“You little-” The insult remained unsaid, as Bob pushed your underwear to the side, his mouth instantly latching onto your swollen clit. 
His mouth was warm. The pressure wasn’t too much, just enough to make you wither in pleasure. It felt so good, so fucking good. When Bob looked up, he found your mouth open, despite no sounds coming out. 
Good. 
You deserved to know what it was like, to have someone care about your pleasure, to focus solely on making you feel incredible. 
God, he could feel his cock throbbed. You looked so pretty with your eyes glazed over, mouth agape as you watched him, completely enthralled. 
And he had just gotten started. 
He wanted to do more than make you come, he wanted to blow your mind. Call it selfish, but Bob wanted to ruin you for anyone else. He had always held back his tongue when it came to the people you dated, knowing sooner or later you'd realized they weren't worth your time. 
But now he had his chance and Bob sure as hell wasn't going to let it slip away. 
The loud sound of fabric ripping broke you out of the pleasure filled haze you were in. Before you could make a sound about your now ripped underwear, your knees were pinned to your chest, giving Bob complete access to your soaked core.
“So fucking sweet,” He groaned against your cunt, sending vibrations all through your body, “Sweetest thing I’ve ever tasted.” 
“Robby.” 
To say Bob dreamed of hearing you moan his name would be the understatement of the fucking century. 
Your whole body was on fire, unable to do anything else but take everything Bob was giving. 
A resounding moan fell from your lips as Bob thrusted two fingers inside you, your walls struggling to accommodate the unexpected stretch. 
Was he this thick elsewhere?
You wanted to find out. Wanted to feel it inside you, in your mouth. You shamelessly wanted it all. But you couldn’t even voice that because Bob was tracing figure eights on your clit, his fingers brushing against a spot you thought Cosmo had made up. 
Fuck, he was doing a number on you. His soft hair threaded through your fingers as you gripped the strands. Your hips involuntarily jerked upwards, desperate to get as much of Bob as possible. 
You kept expecting him to stop, considering you were wet enough for him to fuck you. That's what everyone else did. 
But Bob Floyd wasn't like everyone else. Far from it. 
He was fucking delighted to hear all the cute, strained noises coming from you as he continued.  Each time you tugged on his hair, a groan would fall from his lips. It was the prettiest sound you had ever heard. 
Why did either of you wait this long? 
You tried to communicate, to let him know you were close, tugging on his hair, trying to move away from his mouth. 
But Bob was deceivingly strong, using his free hand to pin your hip back to the couch, his mouth firmly on your pussy. 
When you looked down, you were in awe of how blissed Bob looked. His eyes were closed as his mouth remained latched to your clit. The sounds of your own wetness were obscene, but barely audible over the moans Bob was letting out. 
He really did enjoy it.
“Come. Wanna taste ya,” His voice was muffled as he added a third finger inside you. 
Worried thoughts of coming on his face left your brain as pleasure coursed through your veins. Without any warning, the band that had been tightening came undone.
Bob used both hands to hold your hips firmly in place, his tongue lapping up your release. 
You don't recall coming this hard or this long before. It wasn't a small wave, it felt like the whole damn ocean was taking you under. 
His fingers continued to stretch you open, prolonging your high. The Navy was the perfect fit for him, considering he could apparently hold his breath for an impressive amount of time. 
The soft fabric of the couch cushions brushed as the back of your head, your eyes half closed. You couldn't even voice an acknowledge when Bob’s mouth and fingers withdrew from your abused cunt. 
“You're so pretty when you come,” Bob murmured, his lips brushing against yours. 
Your hands tugged on the soft fabric of his shirt, pulling him closer. 
“M-my turn,” you whined, hips jerking up towards his. 
Bob shook his head, “Wanna be inside ya.” 
How was this the same guy who feared clowns as a kid? 
Before you could even question it, Bob had sat down on the couch, gripping your hips to help you straddle his lap. When had he taken off his jeans? How was he so quick- 
Jesus Christ, he was huge. 
“Fuck, she was right.” 
Bob looked up from where you two were about to connect, a very confused look on his face, “Excuse me?” 
“Betsey Thomas said you had a huge dick,” you confessed, wishing that you'd think before speaking for once. 
Bob’s brows knitted together in confusion, “Betsey Thomas has never seen my dick, the fuck are you talking about?” 
“Said she could tell you were packing because of the gym shorts you'd wear for PE class.” Bob signed, shaking his head as he muttered something about the required uniform. 
“I….we can unpack this later-” 
You snorted, “Why? Too busy packing here?” 
Your laughter was cut short by Bob rubbing his cock against your soaked cunt. Memories of high school escaped your brain, the only thing you could focus on now was Bob and his huge dick. 
Curious wasn't accurate. Frankly, you were desperate for him. Had been since middle school, if you were being truthful. 
“Woah, hey. Easy baby, easy,” his voice made your thighs clench, made you whine into his shoulder as you tried to line your aching hole with his cock. 
Finally, you felt him at your entrance. Slowly, he filled you up inch by inch. Every time you tried to urge him to go faster, Bob would simply shake his head before pressing a kiss against your cheek. 
“Don't want to hurt ya darlin’.” 
Darlin. You were his darlin. 
He made you feel so full, and you didn't even have it all inside of you yet. All you could do was cling to him as he whispered praises in your ears. 
Once you reached the base, it felt like you and Bob were the only ones in the world. At least, that’s what you pretended. It was better than thinking about how he would be gone for who knows how long after tonight. After boot camp was done, he would be off to train for the Navy. 
Even he didn't know when he would return home. 
It wasn't fair, finally expressing your feelings for one another just to be separated immediately after. You wanted him to stay, to go on dates with him, to visit him on the weekends when school started, just like everyone else in a long distance relationship. 
“Hey, what's wrong? Do you- we can stop if you want, it's okay.” Bob’s voice was soft, full of concern. 
His hand lifted your chin up from his shoulder, revealing your watery eyes. 
“I don't want you to go.” 
“I know,” his voice was barely a whisper, matching your volume. Long fingers gently traced over your face, as if he was trying to memorize them. 
“I know it's horrible timing, but we'll figure it out, okay? I want to figure it out with you, I promise,” He peppered your face with soft kisses, earning a small smile out of you. 
“But for now, can I make ya feel good? Because I'm willing to bet no guy has made you come while fucking ya.” 
Unlike in the past, where Bob’s smartass comments earned him a shove, you pressed your lips against his. 
“I'm gonna start moving now, okay?” Even though he warned you, nothing could have prepared you for how full Bob made you when his hips thrusted upwards. 
“You're-fuck- you feel so good, oh my God.” 
Your fingers tangled into Bob’s hair, trying to commit the feeling to memory. 
Bob was trying to do the same, his hands roaming over your body as he took in your scent. Maybe if he asked nicely, you'd let him take a bottle of your perfume with him. 
He was going to need it for the next few months. 
Your mouth clashed against his, tongue desperate to taste him. Wandering hands desperate to feel everything everywhere. 
“When-fuck- when I come back, wanna take you out. W-we can go to that Italian place by your school. The one where you have to wear a tie.” How Bob was able to talk coherently while fucking you was beyond comprehension. 
The Navy will be lucky to have his great ability to multitask. 
“Gonna bring ya flowers too. Sunflowers ‘cause they're-oh my god- you're favorite.” You didn't think you could recall your full name with the way Bob is thrusting into you, much less favorite things. 
Your walls clench around Bob’s thick cock, eliciting a desperate groan from him, rather than the instant ejaculation you were used to. 
“If you keep doing that, I'm gonna come,” Bob whined into the crook of your neck.
“That’s-shit- the point,” you grunted, your hips picking up speed. 
Bob shook his head, “Need you to come first.” 
Confusion caused you to still your hips, “Bob, I already-” 
“Don't finish that sentence, don't you dare,” Bob ended his command with a strong thrust that made you feel as if he was splitting you open on his cock. 
Your head dropped down to the crook of his neck. His skin was so warm and the smell of sage was nearly overwhelming. You knew exactly what body wash he had used, as it was the same one he wore ever since junior year, when you commented on how nice it was. 
In hindsight, it was painfully obvious. 
His lips found yours, capturing them in a desperate kiss. When you felt his fingers draw circles on your clit, you saw stars. 
You didn't know it could feel this good with someone. This was more than a quick fuck, as you actually felt cared for. It was intense, the sensitivity of your first orgasm still echoing every time the thick head of his cock brushed against your walls. 
It's audible how wet you are for Bob. He can feel it at the base of his cock, which makes him wonder what it would be like to have you on your knees, or better, your back, all spread out for him. 
“C’mon sweet girl,” he’s panting, voice desperate and raspy, “Wanna-fuck! Wanna feel you come s’bad, please, please baby.” 
Each circle drawn on your clit causes the band in your stomach to tighten. Combined with Bob’s words, you knew you wouldn't last much longer. 
“You're incredible, shit, I-fuck. All yours. Wanna be all yours. Fuck fuck fuck, clenching me so hard, fuck, don't stop.” Obscene was not a word many, if any, would use to describe Bob Floyd. 
Up until thirty minutes ago, you would have considered yourself part of that group. 
But now? Now you were falling apart on his cock. The rush of pleasure had hit like a brick, coursing through your veins. It hit harder than anything else, harder than the now banned alcohol caffeine combo drink, or any controlled substance doctors had prescribed to help you focus. 
His finger-fuck, usually you had to use two of your own- didn’t stop rubbing your clit, nor does he stop thrusting in and out of your pulsing cunt. It's almost as if-no, you know Bob’s enjoying making you feel euphoria. 
That's what blows your mind. His laser focus on your pleasure, rather than his own. Truthfully, he could have come already and you wouldn't have thought twice about it. 
But now it was all you could think about. How much he cared, how good he felt. How incredible it was for him to pull your hips flushed against his, filling you to the brim with his cock. 
“Holy shit you're so tight-I, sh-should I pull out?” 
Instead of answering, you used all your strength to rock your hips against him. Considering he made you come twice, the least you could do was help him find his release. 
Your fingers gripped his hair, tugging on the strands as your mouth clashed against his. 
The downright guttural groan he releases against your mouth has you clamping down on his cock. The motion finally leads to Bob’s undoing, causing him to come deep inside you, warmth flooding your body. 
His arms are wrapped around your body, clinging onto you as if he thinks you'll disappear if he lets go. 
You’d be a damn fool to. 
The basement is now quiet, apart from the heavy breathing coming from both you and Bob. 
After several minutes pass by, you gather the courage to break the silence, “Did you mean all that? Taking me out on a date and being mine?” 
Bob’s cheek burned a bright red as he timidly nodded his head, “I….yeah. I didn't mean to say it when we were, you know. I'm sorry.” 
You pressed a reassuring kiss to his warm cheek, “Robby, what do you feel the need to apologize for?” 
He looked up to you, those earnest blue eyes sparkling, “Shit timing?” 
“You're not wrong about that, but like you said earlier, I want to work it out with you.” Your words brought comfort, giving Bob the confidence to place a sweet kiss right on your lips. His smile was burning into yours, causing your stomach to flutter. 
“I know it's not that Italian restaurant, but can I take you out to breakfast tomorrow?” 
The local diner had been a go-to since y'all were thirteen. But this time would be different. This time you wouldn't feel the urge to look away when he caught you staring. This time neither one would correct the waitress when she'd make a comment about y'all being a cute couple. 
The soft call of your name pulled you out of your thoughts. 
“Uh can I….eat you out again? Tomorrow obviously! Like before we go to the diner?” 
Good Lord this man was going to be the death of you.
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@ohtobeleah @sebsxphia @attapullman @ryebecca @sio-ina-bottle @rhettabbotts @callsignspark @roosterforme @lewmagoo @hangmanapologist @justabovewater20 @theharddeck @cumholland @bobfloydsbabe @sometimesanalice @heartfairy @auroralightsthesky
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dinogoofymutated · 1 month
Note
Hi! so far I've loved everything you've written about Kurt, Logan and Remy. 🧎🏻‍♀️
Could you write something about Kurt? where together with reader they are in the kitchen of the mansion because they can't sleep, and she finally tells him her concerns about the magnitude of her powers and Kurt with his heart of gold tells her beautiful things to calm her down and make her laugh, the rest to your imagination, I would appreciate it, you write great! Thanks 💙✨
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SFW! Nightcrawler/Fem!Reader
Ok so I will admit that I made this a leeetle self indulgent. I was trying to think of a power someone could really struggle with and a fun one that I thought of was having necromancy, but having such respect for life and death that it feels wrong. I thought it would fit well with a Kurt fic because it's something that almost feels sacrilegious, and it's good to have a fuzzy blue elf assure you that you aren't a monster :) I know its def not power ambiguous, but I hope this is okay :)
Also, I know my writing style is a little different in this one, And thats because the first few paragraphs set the tone for my writing when I start and tbh I think this one just flowed from my soul to they keyboard.
TWs: nightmares, necromancy, gross descriptions of rotting flesh. Extreme self-doubt and self-consciousness. Basically angst with a happy ending.
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You’ve been having nightmares again. They hardly seem to stop, but after a break in between the terror, you'd become too relaxed. Too comfortable. You felt defenseless when they started to begin again.
It’s always the same dream, different font. Bones cracking, flesh ripping as it’s forced into place, natural or not. Skin rotting off of once human bodies, sockets where eyes used to be. It was horrifying. You’d see your family, friends, acquaintances, everyone. Dead. Brought back to life by your power, the power you were still so afraid of. You were always afraid of zombie movies as a kid. Anything rising from the dead, anything breathed back to life in some sick and twisted fantasy. It was ironic that your very own strength was the thing you had always been the most afraid of.
Of course, as you aged and the professor took you in, the fear began to wear off. Mostly, it did. The professor not only taught you how to control your powers but also how to work around your fear. You can remember the confusion you felt when he had set a box of ancient bones in front of you. Fragments of titans, dinosaurs who had long since passed. Bones that would never be matched to an accurate set, parts of them being crushed to dust by the cruelty of time. Bones that only you could breathe to life, to bring them together as a whole again. It was convenient, the professor had told you, that you only needed a fragment to do so. He spoke as if it were a service to them. Most importantly, he brought you a box of bones that weren’t, and never had been, human.
He had taken the fear out of your power. Given you an option you had never considered before. Bones without flesh, without living family. Fossils that would serve you as you were serving them. You were… happy, with that. You were content. You could handle bones. You could revive these ancient skeletons without fear, and fight with them without worry. That didn’t change the horror of knowing the capacity your powers had.
    So the nightmares remained, and your sleep had become sparse.
    This particular night you were restless. Unable to sleep despite how tired you have been, but it’s hard to rest when there is only terror waiting behind your eyelids. After a while, you decide to give up trying.
The path to the kitchen is one you have memorized, even in the dark. You’ve always been told never to eat sugar before bed, but the only thing you want to comfort you at this moment is hot chocolate- so screw it.
    You try your best to be quiet while fishing out a pot out of the cabinets. The stove makes a click as you flick it on, filling the pot with milk before stirring it as it warms. The automatic task is comforting, falling into a routine you enjoy. You’ve just added the coco mix when the sound of a *Bamph* greets you.
    “Guten abend.” Kurt whispers, walking over to stand beside you. You give him a tired smile that he returns with a yawn.
    “I’m sorry if I woke you.” You say, face returning to a frown Kurt thinks you wear far too often. Maybe it’s good that he’s here because you realize you made far too much of the sweet drink than you had meant to. You get a mug for him, heart fluttering as his hand brushes your own when he takes it from you, thanking you quietly.
    “You did not wake me, Schatz. I promise.” Kurt says, pulling out a chair for you with his tail as he sits at the table. You nod silently, placing the pot in the sink and filling it with water before you join him, leaning against his shoulder.
    “Did you have another nightmare?” Kurt asks after a moment. His brows are furrowed in concern, and you fail to stop him before he takes a sip from the scalding coco, burning his tongue. He scrunches his nose as he sticks out his tongue, making you giggle for a moment. He thinks your laugh suits you much more than your frown, even if it happens to be at his expense. Your face falls slightly anyway, and he wonders if he could get you to laugh if he did it all over again.
    “...No. Not tonight.” The words come out as less than a whisper, and you doubt he might hear it if it weren’t the middle of the night. Little did you know he’d block the world out if he had to, just to hear you speak a little clearer. He hums in response, and you feel his tail slowly wrap snugly around your waist, the very tip idly stroking you in a comforting manner.
    “...Do you wish to speak about them?” Kurt asks after a moment. You huff slightly, feeling the hot steam from your mug warm your face as you do so. Still too hot, you think to yourself. Flashes of those horrid nightmares come to mind, and no matter how quickly you try to shake them off, they remain. You choose to think of Kurt instead. Sweet, kind, comforting Kurt. You want to bury yourself in his arms, sink into the feeling of his skin, and never let go, if only he would let you. He would without a second thought, if only you had known. You think carefully about your next words, and the visions of flesh and corpses hardly leave you.
    “Am I a monster, Kurt?” You hear a quiet, cut-off gasp from Kurt, and he turns to you. His face is pained, and he sets his mug down to place his hand around your own, still clasped around the hot cocoa. 
    “Of course not. Only a fool would think so.” His words, although comforting, only leave you with a worse sting in your heart. You can’t hold eye contact with him, staring at the reflection in your mug instead. Only a fool would think so. You halfway wonder if you count as a fool, then.
    “I, just… My powers, what I do. What I am capable of doing. It’s not right.” You take a shaky breath in, desperately trying not to break down here and now. “It’s disgusting. It’s horrible. Every time I find myself comfortable with myself I am reminded of what is possible and I spiral. I don’t want it. I don’t-”  
  “Liebling.” You let out a sob at the sound of his voice. Kurt is hunched over, pressing his forehead against your own as he desperately tries to catch your gaze- but you can’t. You can't bear it, and you close your eyes tightly. Kurt takes the mug from your hands. He cups your face as he wipes your tears, and you feel like even more of a monster as he does so. Sobbing as a man with a heart of gold wipes your tears away with love and care.
    “Please, look at me,” Kurt whispers. You try to stop the tears, embarrassed as you fall apart in front of the man you hold so dearly, but it’s hard. It’s so hard. Your chest stings, your throat is sore, you’re sure your nose is running, and yet he still holds you so gently. When your breathing evens out just a bit, you convince yourself to open your eyes again.
    Kurt’s gaze is simply concerned. There is no horror, no disgust, nothing but worry for you. Nothing but kindness. You wonder if you could be even half as good as he is. 
    “You are good. You are kind. You are strong enough to stand by your morals despite the nature of your powers telling you otherwise- and you have the strength to continue to use them and fight your fears anyway. You are one of the most incredible people I have ever met. Do not let your nightmares tell you otherwise.” Kurt’s hold is steady against your cheeks, and your own shaky hands reach up to hold onto his wrists. You sob again as he speaks. You know. You know this. Others have told you, but these words all felt like lies. All but the ones you’re hearing from his mouth. Your tears are slowing, and Kurt leans forward to press a kiss to your forehead, leaving the skin tingling. You whisper quiet apologies for crying, and he shushes each one, gently wiping your face with the soft sleeve of his pajama shirt.
  “I would not be here if I didn’t want to care for you, my love,” Kurt says softly. Your eyes widen, taken aback by his words. He called you many things. Liebling. Schatz. Love. But never my love. The words waken butterflies in your belly, and Kurt takes a moment to realize what he’s said. He swallows nervously, but he doesn’t pull away. You don’t either. The two of you are treading a line that you both desperately want to cross. 
    Kurt is the first to lean in. He does so slowly, toeing the line between you. His gaze remains on your own as he closes the space, nose nuzzling against your own as he gives you the time to back out if you wish. But you don’t. You want nothing more than to have what he is so freely giving. 
    Kurt kisses you softly, lovingly, and for once the horrors have quieted and are cleared from your mind. All there is now is Kurt, and his soft love. He kisses you a second time before he pulls away, still as close to you as he can be without falling out of his chair. You wonder how he can see beauty where all you see is terror. He wonders if you have any clue just how much of a good person you continue to be.
    He knows he would gladly spend the rest of his life showing you.
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rudeflower · 8 months
Text
you need a library card
Almost everyone I know doesn't have a library card, and some of them read less than they want to because they can't afford to buy the books they want???? GUYS BIG SOLUTION TIME
BOOKS! Audiobooks! DVDS! Movie/series/documentary streaming services! Ebooks! Video games! Magazines!
Air conditioning! Wifi! Heat! Meeting rooms to reserve! Copy machines! Printers! Quiet safe place!
FOR FREE! FOR FREE! NO COST! FOR FREE!!!
Let's face is inflation is killing us, and you may have had to sacrifice buying books for fun, keeping the heat at a comfortable temp, cancel a few subscriptions. Enter your library card
"I don't have time to go a library" me neither I use the audiobook and ebook app daily and check out digital books and get them on my phone immediately
"I want to support the author" If you like it then you buy it! You don't have to pay up front for something you might not like ten pages in! Buy a book you know you love even if you don't plan to reread it to support the author!
"I don't want to wait for a book" Fair enough then don't, check out the books you can wait for
This world has home, where you pay to be, and very very few places outside of the home that you don't have to pay to be. If you're losing your head and need to get out for a few hours, you have to pay to exist almost anywhere you want to go. Not libraries.
I've gone to libraries weekly, almost daily at times, my whole life and they have never once asked anything of me. They give.
This world takes and takes and takes and libraries give and give and give and you deserve to be given lovely things.
It is not hard to get a library card, for most people. In most places I've lived you need some form of evidence you live in the area the library serves, and I've brought in a piece of mail, a student ID or an electric bill and been good to go. Many libraries also work with people who don't have documentation like this to get one anyway.
Get a library card even if you don't think you'll use it. Because one day there will be a book you really want that your local bookstore doesn't have, but who has it? THE LIBRARY! GO GET IT!
This is a USA centric post, and also goes out to my non-American cousins who taught me that libraries are a beautiful gift and not a given, and we should take advantage of it more often than we do
Get a library card, love yourself
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mrsrdlw · 2 months
Text
“Will you forgive me, please?”
Warnings: angst; eddie and reader are in a one year relationship; reader almost burst from stress; verbal fight; happy ending (the only right way, cuz i can’t stand when it ends sadly:)), no use of y/n (she is referred as sweetie/sweetheart), let me know if i’m missing something something
wc: 1.9k
summary: Reader is going crazy with how much is going on on her life. Studying for the final exams, work with terrible people. But on a weekend, when Eddie comes without warning you, you both fought for the first time in your relationship.
Being Eddie's girlfriend was the best part of your life. You loved him and the way he treated you. You've been together for a year now and, between this time, you got to know all sides of him. Goofy, funny, kind, sexy. But you've never seen him get mad. Pissed? Of course! All the time, he would be complaining about things or cursing other people who were assholes with him. But he was never mad, at least not with you.
But there was one specific time when you were having a terrible week. With the final exams, not to mention you mentoring other students, you were one step away from losing it. And there was your boss giving you the same speech all week because one of your co-workers snitched you for kissing your boyfriend at work. It was just a smooch!
"This girl's a bitch. Probably never touched a dick in her life!" That's what Eddie said to you.
But, by the end of the week, you were on edge. And being busy all the time, you never got the chance to spend a single minute with your boyfriend. But he would have to wait, the finals were more important now. Eddie didn't seem to agree. He showed up at your door with movies in his hands.
"Hey sweetie, i'm sorry i'm a little late. Had to kick some ass to get out of Family Video" You just hummed, trying to understand what was wrong with your calculus. "I'm great, thanks for asking!"
On his way he, unfortunately, met Jason at the same place. He didn't actually fought him, just some heated exchange of words. It got him a little pissed, but he was going to spend the night with you, so he pretended that he was fine. He was hoping that you would make him feel better.
"Eddie you can put the movie, i don't mind, but i'll not pay attention. I really need to review this"
"Yeah sweetheart, whatever you say" Of course. He was not listening, looking for some candies in your cabinet.
He sat by your side and kept talking to you. You were trying so hard not to cut him off, you really missed him, but you couldn't allow yourself that privilege of five minutes making out with him. So by the end of the first movie he brought, he started to say some curious facts about it but you let out a groan. "Fuck. Why physics were so hard?” You thought to yourself.
"Alright, stop. What the fuck? I've be trying to talk to you for the whole week, but you were too busy. Now that is your time to relax you're going to keep studying?" He said with a serious tone. At first you were quiet, waiting for him to calm down so you would not fight. But he said, louder this time "Say something, damn it!"
"What do you want me to say Eddie? I need to-" you were cut out
"Please, don't you think you studied enough? The whole week, is all you've been doing. You’re gonna burst into flames from thinking too much."He was now facing you, your book long forgotten as the both of you started to lose it.
"Well, for some of us, the constancy is required! I am not doing very good in this subject. I'm just trying to do my best and you should be doing the same." He shifted his body and giggled in a sarcastic way.
"Oh yes, let's remember that i was held back. So original. That's very dirty bellow the belt of you sweetheart." His facial expression was full of disappointment and anger.
"Can you not contort my words? I said as you should be doing your best too so you don't get held back again!" You regretted the time you said it. It was dirty of you and his eyes were not looking into yours anymore. "I know i was not very present this week, but can't you just wait 'till the goddamn exams to end. I don't know what happened for you be so rude but you shouldn't be taking it out on me!"
He was not looking at you, fidgeting with his rings, thinking of the right thing to say so you could stop fighting.
"All i wanted was to spend time with you, what the fuck is wrong with that?"
"There's nothing wrong, is just that i told you that i needed to get good at this."
"That's the fucking point, there's nothing to get better at, you've been working on it for so long, there is nothing new to see! Fuck, you’re not even answering when i talked to you."
"Stop being fucking dramatic Eddie! Do you think i like this, the way that i'm on the edge right now? Fighting with my boyfriend and friends, not having a fucking second to breathe because it feels like everything i do is wrong?"
"And i am the one dramatic. Let me give you a heads up. It's not the end of the fucking world if you fail a test. Besides, you couldn't do it even if you tried. You had to have sucked in the other tests to be held back, like me."
"Oh my god! Why don't you grow up a little and see how this is important to me? Look, we both are angry for some reason and are not in conditions to talk. I think is the best for the both of you for you to leave. So we don't hurt ourselves anymore."
"You always have to be so good and solve every damn problem, right? Only so in the end i can be the bad guy. Honestly, why are you the one to say what we should or shouldn't do?"
"Because it's my fucking house and i want you to leave!"
At this point, after wrestling and yelling at each other, you were with tears in your eyes panting without knowing what to do. Eddie gulped, stepped back and, not saying a word, he left.
The tears were rolling down your cheeks. Now there was no way you would focus on physics. You regretted so much. All the words said in the heat of the moment. You didn't mean any of them. And he probably didn't. You both said things to hurt each other in order to be right. Eddie was definitely upset about something, not just the lack of your attention. But now was not the time to find out.
——————
After a week, you finish every school exam and were finally free from school. And back in work, your co-worker was fired. She was caught fucking a random guy that you didn’t know on the boss’s office . “Guess Eddie was wrong” you thought giggling but getting upset the second after. You both have been avoiding each other. Eddie didn’t want to bother you and you didn’t want to hurt him. But it was time. You were tired of tearing up every time you remembered your fight.
So, at the end of your shift, you drove to the trailer park. It was the first time you fought and you hated. The feeling was that, at any second, you would lose him.
Knocking at his door, you stood there, waiting for him.
“Coming.” You heard his muffled voice. When he opened the door, he had an annoyed expression that shifted to a concerned one once he saw it was you. He was shirtless, wet hair and sweatpants that hung low on his hips. You didn’t know if it was because of the long week not seeing him, but he looked incredibly handsome. “Hey” It was the only thing he could say, surprised by your appearance.
“Hi… Can we talk.” You said hesitant, not knowing where to start.
“Sure. Please” He opened the door wider letting you in. Guiding you on the couch, where you both sat in awkward silence. It didn’t even look like you two were together for a long time. “I assume you’re here to talk about last weekend.” You nodded trying your best not to cry already which was really hard because of the way he looked at you.
“Look Eddie, i don’t even know where to start. We both lost our senses and said terrible things we shouldn’t. I honestly feel like-“ A feeling you grew accustomed in the past week grew in your throat. You couldn’t hold back the tears anymore. “I felt like i was losing my mind and that everything i was doing was wrong. You were right. I was taking too much at once and i couldn’t take it.”
“No no no. Sweetheart, i was the wrong one. I was worried about you and my own shit and i put that on your shoulders.” He said whipping your cheeks. “And as i usually do, to run away from my problems, i pretended that none of that was happening and didn’t realize how important studying was for you. I am truly sorry for that and for the fight.”
You hugged him tightly. His hands surrounded your waist and his nose nestled on your neck, sniffing your sent. He’d missed you deeply. “I’m sorry too” you said softly and moving away just enough to see his face. “I just want you to know that i don’t meant shit from what i’ve said. That was awful of me. I felt awful. I hope you can forgive me.”
“Of course i forgive you, sweetie. I was supposed to be the one apologizing. I also didn’t mean any of that crap. You forgive me too?” He said giving you a smirk that made you giggle.
“Yes. But only if you tell me why you were so worked up that night.”
“Oh shit, you’re right. My week was not great either. You know how much i hate finals. Before going to yours, i stopped at Family Video and i met with Jason Carver. And well, you know the story, he calls me a freak and i pretend that he hurt my feelings. But that night, he started to talk shit about us, like you were way out of my league. And until then i was like, tell me something i don’t know. But then the son of a bitch called you a whore and that you probably sold yourself for one fuck in exchange for a review of any subject. And i was like “what the fuck dude?”. I just lost my mind. Thank the metal gods that Steve stopped me from beating his face.”
“Oh my god! You could have told me” You don’t even know why you said that. You literally fought because you were too into your studies.
“It’s alright. He normally doesn’t piss me off. But I just can’t accept him talking shit about you. As if he knew you enough to call you a whore.”
The good thing is that you got back to normal and cuddled for the rest of the day. Eddie wanted to stay close to you as much as he could, so he asked begged for you to stay over. So here you were, before going to sleep telling how much you loved each other.
“Good night baby” Even in the dark room, you could see his beautiful eyes looking at you with so much love
“Good night Eds” Closing your eyes ready to sleep, felling your man’s hand caressing you, you were sure that you were in heaven. Out of the sudden you remembered.
“Eds!” You turned fast to him scaring him a little “You won’t believe what happened.”
“What?” Poor man, he was half asleep. You giggled at his confused face.
“Apparently, that girl from work did a lot more than touching dick…”
“I told you she was a bitch. A man knows”
“Shut up”
*if you have any ideas/request/sugestions; please sent it to me, my inbox is open. :)
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bahrtofane · 3 months
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here we go again - pt.1
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pt. 2 , pt.3
jude x fem!reader , trent x fem!reader
empty promise after another leaves you walking in the cold. alone. on valentines day. youre never speaking to another player again.
word count : 1K+
watch it : mild fluff, heavy on the angst, situationships, toxic relationships, Jude is kinda an ass in this one sorry, not very happy ending
happy valentines day LOL
—--
you and Jude have a complex history, complex relationship. 
you aren't officially together but at the same time you are exclusive. it's odd, but it's what works at the moment, (even if you wish he would just grow the balls to make you his already.)
you get he's a busy guy, top player both club and international. you aren't going to force him to choose you or make him get with you while his career is soon about to peak. 
your wishes for more soon fade into the background as he presses gentle kisses into your skin. he called you a few hours prior, wondering if you wanted to keep him company while he binges movies and orders you a pizza. you said yes, maybe a little foolishly. but it's hard to stay away from him. 
he's addicting. maybe it's a rush of being with someone whose whole existence is so grand. maybe it's the fact of knowing you have what millions of others crave for. you don't know, you try not to read into the intricacies. bad habit. 
so here you are, face pressed up against his chest while you lay side by side on this stupidly large couch, action movie playing, your pizza done, belly full and body warm. 
"what are you thinking about love?" he mumbles. 
"you." you shrug.
"me ?" he chuckles. 
you hum, wiggling deeper into the pile of blankets. 
"i've been thinking about you. and us." he confesses, almost shy. the movie playing in front of you has long fizzled out of your attention. 
hey might as well rip the band aid off. 
"me too," you hum, "why aren't we official again?"
you feel him sigh dramatically, "because my career."
you squint. there goes the same lousy explanation. "you could put more i don't know, thought into us."
he shifts under the blankets , "valentine's day is coming up. dont worry love i have it all planned out." he assures you. 
"oh yeah ?" you tease
"just you wait, the best valentine's day ever." he kisses the top of your head soundly.
—--
worst fucking valenties day of your life. you don't remember being more livid a day in your life. you cant remember the last time so much pure rage burned through you, hot enough to hurt. you didn't think it was humanly possible to clench your fist so tight youve dug into your palm hard enough to draw blood. 
your head hurts, your legs hurt, you think your arm is starting to bruise from where you were shoved into a table on "accident" but what would Jude know. he was so busy taking pictures with models and laughing at corny jokes while you kept yourself company. texting and calling didnt work and he didn't even try to give you any attention the whole night, you can't keep doing this with him. 
"you can't just run off-" Jude shouts from somewhere behind you. 
"or what Jude. or fucking what." you seeth, not bothering to face him, storming out into the night. 
It's your fault for trusting him all those nights ago. your fault for falling for the same shit over and over. 
he sprints to catch up to you, "i don't know why you're being like this."
you stop dead in your tracks, "oh i don't know, let's think. you didn't tell me your escorts would be there. and to top it all fucking off they have to nerve to be on my ass the whole night, not letting me get anywhere near you even through we walked in together?"
he doesn't respond and you half the mind not to punch the shit out of him, walking further away from the club you just came from, heels clanking against the sidewalk so hard it hurts, pulling on your dress so you dont trip and fall. maybe you should let it go so you can fall flat on your face. that would be a better ending to the night than seeing his face. silly stupid you thinking this would work. 
"happy fucking valentines day huh Jude. you take me to a damn club, you ignore me the whole night, and you spend all your time surrounded by other women who might as well just suck you off right then and there." you yell, hell if anyone hears. you want them too, you want him to be as humiliated as you feel. 
Bellinghams date thrown away the moment you step inside, ignored and tossed for some common whores. oh you can't wait to see where your face ends up online after tonight. you can see the headlines now. 
he grabs your arm, making you face him, "love listen-"
"no, you dont get to fucking do that anymore. you cant keep sweet talking your way out of things when you fuck up. why can't you just pretend to care" your voice shakes, you can feel tears brimming in your eyes.
"i'm not trying to talk my way out of it, i'm trying to explain." he tries.
you yank your arm out of his grip, "i'm not listening anymore, im done. all i asked was one day for us, just valentines day to make things work. and you showed me you dont care enough for that." 
"please, let me fix this." he pleads.
"its too late."
"i wanted things to work so fucking bad, and you humiliated me Jude. i imagined a nice dinner, hell i would have settled for take out and a few kisses. that's how bad i want things to work, that's how bad i wanted you." you tremble. 
"please my darling. let's talk about this. come back inside and i'll show everyone that you are mine," he holds a hand out to you, waiting. silently pleading with each breath he takes. 
the street lights dance across his skin as for a moment you almost believe him. for a moment you think about stepping back inside with him. you can't do that to yourself, not again. 
"no, iim done. don't follow me, don't call me dont text nothing. i want nothing more to do with you." your firm, final. swallowing the lump that builds in your throat, youd be damned if he sees you cry after this fucking shit show.
he stops in his tracks at this, not bothering to try and stop you. 
it hurts more than it should to leave him behind you, but you honest to god can not keep up with his lifestyle. 
all those articles and rumors were right you suppose, he's an arrogant stuck up bastard with too much money to know what to do with, too cocky for his own good and destroys anything good that comes his way. you hope he's happy without you. 
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yuta-nation · 6 months
Text
Light Shower (Yuta Okkotsu)
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summary: your big brother butts into your sex life, and you both get more than you bargained for.
content: dead dove (do not eat), incest/stepcest (left unclear), big bro!yuta, afab fem!reader (no pronouns but referred to as girl, sister, ect.), inexperienced!reader, oral (m -> f), protected p -> v, squirting, fingering, possessive!yuta, pillow princess!reader, mentions of alcohol but reader is not drunk.
wc: 3.8k
a/n: HEED THE CONTENT WARNINGS !! I HAVE MADE SHIT SO FUCKING CLEAR !!! anyways, i've been working on this fic for months, and i'm so happy it's finally done ! this whole thing is dedicated to @princess-okkotsu for being nasty with me and lovely to me.
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You had many reasons for moving in with your older brother for your last year of undergrad. You and Yuta hadn’t lived together since he was 16 and you were 13, separated for reasons you still didn’t understand. The only time he’d visited you and your parents after he moved out had been for your high school graduation. You’d missed him a lot, but you kept in close contact online and over the phone, texting constantly and calling a few times a week with video calls sprinkled in. Despite the physical distance, your brother had become your best friend. When you told him you were planning to attend university in Tokyo, he was elated, talking about how he couldn’t wait to show you around and how excited he was to see you more often. He had kept his word, taking you all around the city during your first few weeks in Tokyo, handing you a key to his apartment, and telling you you were welcome over any time, even if he wasn’t home. He took you out to breakfast every Sunday morning and invited you over to watch movies every Wednesday evening. Your relationship thrived with the new proximity. 
Moving in with your brother would allow you to connect as siblings in a way you missed out on growing up. Yuta also lived closer to campus than you did, meaning you wouldn’t have to take the train. You liked your current roommates well enough, but they always had people over when you were studying and rarely cleaned their messes in the kitchen. Yuta was tidy and quiet. And finally, you were broke. Undergrad was expensive, the city was expensive, and grad school wouldn’t be cheap either. Yuta was willing to let you move in rent-free, declining your offer to at least pay utilities. 
 “I don’t need my baby sister’s money,” he’d said with a smile and finality that shut down any argument you tried to conjure.
You’d accepted the offer and moved in about a month ago. Living with Yuta was as easy as breathing. He was a courteous and generous roommate. He did his share of the chores and often offered to help you with your own. He brought you coffee and snacks while you studied. He carried the bags when the two of you went grocery shopping. 
And he was fun. Almost every moment the two of you spent together was full of laughter. You and Yuta cooked dinner together every night you were both home, talking and joking about your days. You weren’t sure what Yuta did for work; he’d always been vague, but you figured it had something to do with the government. But you enjoyed his stories about his coworkers and their antics. And Yuta seemed just as invested in your stories about your friends and daily life. He asked questions and remembered names and offered advice.
 The only thing you didn’t feel comfortable talking with your big brother about was your love life. Talking to Yuta about guys just felt like crossing an unspoken line. It’s not like much was going on in that aspect of your life anyway; you were too busy with school to seek out new people. Once in a while, one of your friends would set you up on a date with someone. You didn’t mind their meddling; you knew it came from a good place, and they were good judges of character. However, you had yet to hit it off with any of these match-ups. There just wasn’t that spark. So when your friend told you she’d met someone in her Econ class that would be perfect for you, you were a mix of skeptical and excited. After some persuading, you agreed to go out with Mr. Econ. 
Now you stood in the entryway, checking yourself in the mirror a final time and looking through your purse to check that you had everything. 
“Oh, are you going somewhere? I thought we were watching a movie tonight?” You turned to see your brother putting dishes in the sink.  
“Oh, Yu,  I’m so sorry. I totally forgot. I have a date tonight, so–”
“A date?” Yuta turned to face you with a raised brow, crossing his arms over his broad chest.
“Yeah, my friend set me up with a guy from her class. We’re going for drinks.”
“You’re meeting a man you’ve never met for drinks? And you didn’t think to tell me?”
“Yuta, please don’t pull the big brother act. I’m an ad–”
“It’s no act. I am your brother. It’s my job to look out for you.”
“My location is on. I’ll text you when I get there and am on my way home. Deal?”
“No.”
“What do you mean no? Yuta, you can’t ju–”
“I require a hug before I let you leave,” he said simply as a boyish grin spread over his lips. You fought your own smile as you walked into his open arms. You sighed as you felt his strong arms squeeze you tight.
“Be safe. Call me if you need me to come get you, yeah?” Yuta whispered in your ear, swaying you a bit as he spoke. 
“I will, I promise,” you said as you detangled yourself from his arms. You returned your focus to the mirror, straightening your top before grabbing your keys. 
“Wait. Do you need a condom?”
“W-what?”
“A condom. Let me go grab you one–”
“No!”
“What do you mean no? You can’t–”
“No–I mean, I already have some. Yuta, never say that word again,” you said as fire burned in your cheeks and ears.
“Condom.”
“I’m leaving.”
“I love you,” he called when you opened the door.
“Love you too.”
You were back home in a little over an hour. You couldn’t hold back your sigh as you reentered the apartment and removed your shoes. You didn’t hear the TV in the living room; Yuta must’ve forgone watching the movie by himself and went to his room. You felt a pang of guilt at that. You should’ve stayed home and watched a movie with your big brother instead of going out with an idiot business major who just wanted to fuck. You walked over to Yuta’s bedroom door and knocked.
“Yu, just letting you know I’m home,” you called out. You heard shuffling on the other side of the door, opening a few seconds later to reveal your shirtless brother. His brow was furrowed in concern as he looked down at you. 
“You said you’d text when you were on your way back. It’s still early. Did something happen?”
“No, he was just an ass. I’m going to go take my make-up off. We can still watch that movie if you want.”
“What’d he do?” Yuta asked with a hardness in his voice that you’d never heard before. You turned to face him and were met with dark blue eyes boiling with fury. You were grateful to know that his rage wasn’t directed at you; the look on his face was bone-chilling. 
“Nothing, we just had different definitions of the term ‘date.’” 
“What does that mean?”
“He just wanted to fuck. I didn’t, so I left.”
“Oh, thank God. I don’t like the idea of you having sex,” he said with a relieved sigh.
“I’m a fucking adult, Yuta. I can have sex if I want to. Though lucky for you, sex sucks,” you said hotly, turning on your heel to leave. You loved him, but Yuta had a way of getting under your skin. Your retreat was halted by his hand grabbing yours. You turned to face him; a look of confusion splayed across his features again. 
“Now, what do you mean by that?”
“Yu, I really don’t want to discuss my sex life with you. I’d actually rather die.”
“Hey, you can’t just drop that tidbit and not elaborate,” he said, maintaining his firm grip on your hand. 
“Yuta…”
“I’m not going to judge you. You can tell me about anything, you know that,” Yuta said with soft eyes. He tugged lightly on your hand, guiding you into his room. He gestured for you to sit on the bed while he sat in his desk chair. You sat down, suddenly finding Yuta’s spotless bedroom floor captivating. 
“What’s so bad about sex?” he asked gently. You knew that if you looked at him, he’d be making those puppy dog eyes that always had you spilling your guts to him. 
“Me. I’m not good at it, so I don’t like it.”
“Not good?”
“I’ve never…y’know.”
“Never what?”
“I’ve never finished, okay?”
“You’ve never cum before?”
“I do when I’m by myself. I just can’t with other people for some reason. I’m fucking broken. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I’m gonna go die in a hole.”
“Do not be embarrassed,” Yuta said firmly as he stood and crossed the room to kneel before you. He took your chin in his hand and guided you to look him in the eye.
“You are not broken. There’s nothing wrong with you. It’s not your fault if you’ve only been with partners who don’t know how to satisfy you.” 
Something in Yuta’s reassuring tone forced the damn to break. Tears spilled from your eyes as you fought back the lump in your throat. A sob racked your body as Yuta joined you on the bed and wrapped you in his arms before he lifted you into his lap. He rubbed slow circles on your back as you cried and placed a kiss on your hair. 
After a few minutes, your tears subsided enough for you to speak.
“I’m sorry, Yuta, this isn’t your problem,”
“Don’t be sorry, sweetie. You’re hurting, and that is my problem.”
“There’s nothing you can do about it, though.”
“Who said that?”
“What?” you asked, raising your head to look at your brother. 
“I can help you.”
“How?”
“I can make you cum.” Yuta said with the same smile and finality he had when he convinced you to move in with him. 
“No, you can’t. You’re my brother, Yuta.”
“And it’s my job as your brother to take care of you. Let me help you. Let me show you how sex is supposed to be.”
“It’s not right, Yu. We can’t.”
“Just once. No one will know. I want you to know what it’s like to feel good. You deserve to feel good.”
“...Just once?”
“Yeah, only tonight.”
“I trust you, Yuta,” you said, meeting his eyes of your own accord. 
Yuta’s kiss was so gentle it almost brought tears back to your eyes. His lips slotted against yours with hesitance, like he expected that at any moment, you would bolt from his lap, out the door, and out of his life forever. But you knew you wouldn’t. You couldn’t deny how handsome your big brother was, how you adored his deep blue eyes and full lips, how enamored you were with his size, his large hands and broad shoulders. You couldn’t deny how much you wanted him right now.  You deepened the kiss, grazing your tongue over his lips, coaxing him to let you in. He opened up to you, allowing you to explore his mouth.
Yuta shifted you in his lap so that you were straddling him, large hands gripping your waist. You grinded down on him as you laced your fingers through his dark hair. You pulled gently, eliciting a soft moan from the man below you.
“Fuck, I could kiss you all night, baby.  You taste so good. But I gotta make you cum. Wanna taste you somewhere else,” Yuta whispered against your lips. You felt your core pulse at his words.
“Take this pretty dress off for me and lay down,” he ordered after giving your lips a final peck. You did as you were told, slowly unzipping your dress and letting it pool at your feet. You stepped out of the fabric and climbed back onto the bed, resting your head on the pillows. 
Yuta joined you on the bed, settling at your feet. He took hold of both of your ankles and gently pulled them apart, spreading your legs. You could see the desire burning in his eyes as they made contact with the crotch of your panties. Your face heated as you imagined the growing wet spot forming there. Before you could close your legs out of embarrassment, Yuta moved forward to brush his fingers over your clothed cunt. 
“You’ve been torturing me, baby, parading around in these cute little panties. Been haunting my dreams with them. Gonna let me take ‘em off, let me see your pretty pussy?” He asked, almost begging. You nodded your consent, and Yuta placed a kiss on your covered clit before pulling your damp panties off. He stifled a moan at the sight of strings of slick clinging to the fabric as he delicately removed the garment.
“Beautiful,” he whispered, breath fanning over your now-bared pussy. You watched as he tucked your panties in his pocket, and you felt your face warm even more at his actions. You gasped as you felt Yuta’s warm mouth wrap around your clit. He sucked gently before circling it with his tongue.
“Yuuuutaaaa,” you moaned at the unfamiliar yet extremely pleasant sensation. 
“Has anyone ever done this for you before baby?” he asked, voice thick with lust.
“N-no, no one,” you admitted, eager to feel his lips on you again.
“Good. Such a good girl, saving the first taste of this pussy for your big brother. So fucking sweet, baby,” he praised before diving back into your cunt. He lapped at your slit, collecting your slick on his tongue. You whined at the feeling and the lewd sounds his mouth on your pussy produced. His tongue moved back to your clit, swirling around it before latching his lips around it. His fingers found their way to your slit, sliding one inside as he continued to suck your clit. He moaned at the tightness of your heat around his finger. It was hard for him to believe that anyone or anything had breached your walls before this moment based on the vice grip they had around him.
He worked his finger in and out of your heat steadily as he continued to suck and lick at your clit, relishing in the sounds of your moans and whines. After a minute or so, Yuta slipped another finger inside you, smiling against your clit at the mewl you let out at the addition. 
“Shh, it’s okay, baby. I’ve gotta prep you for me, okay? Gotta get you ready so you feel good, alright?” He cooed from between your legs. You nodded in understanding, desire pooling at your core. You heard Yuta tsk from his position below you. 
“Need you to use your words, pretty girl. You gotta use your voice for me.”
“O-okay. Wanna feel good, please, don’t stop!”
“That’s my girl. I’m gonna give you another finger, m’kay? You’re doing so well, pretty,” Yuta encouraged as he added a third finger, mouth returning to your clit with vigor. He was now determined for you to cum, to show you everything that you’d been missing. Everything he could give you. He fucked his fingers into you at a steady but deliberate pace. His mouth latched onto your clit, suckling firmly, using your moans and whines as a guide to how to pleasure you, how to pull more sounds from you, how to fill your brain with thoughts of him, him, and nothing else. 
“Yuta, Yuta! Cumming!” you squealed out, toes curling and back arching off the bed at the sensation of your orgasm beginning to roll over you. Yuta doubled his efforts, rolling his tongue over your clit as his fingers picked up the pace. One deep thrust of his fingers led to you practically screaming as you squirted all over your big brother’s face. Yuta couldn’t help his beaming smile as he removed himself from between your thighs as you finally settled from your high. 
“I am so sorry! I-I’ve never done that before. Please don’t be mad!” You begged as you took in his damp lips and chin. 
“Mad? Baby, why would I be mad? That was so fucking hot. Wanna make you do it again. Come here, give me a kiss. Want you to taste yourself, yeah?” You obliged, rising from the bed to meet your brother halfway. Your lips slotted against his and you marveled at the taste of yourself. You opened up your mouth for Yuta’s tongue to explore, more of your flavor exploding on your tongue at the intrusion. After a moment of sloppy making out, he finally pulled back to smile at you.
 “See how good you taste? Such a perfect girl.”
“Did I do good, Yuu?” you ask almost innocently, and Yuta wonders if you planned this, planned to seduce him tonight, planned you make his darkest, filthiest dreams come true. There was no way you were this perfect, this pure and trusting all for him. But looking in your eyes he could see the sincerity, the self-doubt, the need for approval. It made his already hard cock throb with need. 
You let out a yelp as Yuta practically tackled you to the bed, pinning you down with his legs on either side of yours and his arms forming a cage around your head. His face hovered over yours, an indiscernible look of intensity in his eyes.
“You did perfect, sweetheart. Fuck, feel that baby? That’s what you do to me,” he said as his hips bucked against yours, grinding his bulge against your soaked core. You moaned as he continued to hump against you like a teenager, bringing your legs to wrap around his hips in an attempt to bring him closer. After several moments, he pulled away, untangling your legs from around his waist. 
“Think you’re ready, sweetheart? Wanna give you my cock, want you to cum on it. Think you can?”
“Wanna try, Yuu, need your cock so bad,” you confessed, longing for the feeling and heat of him against you again. You heard him swear as he reached for the waistband of his sweats, yanking them down with his boxers. He quickly pulled them off, abandoning them on the floor with your dress. You let out a gasp when you finally saw his bare cock. It was the biggest you had ever seen in person, and it was so pretty it made your mouth water. 
“A-are you sure it’s gonna fit?” you asked hesitantly.
“We’ll make it, yeah? You’re a big girl, you can take it,” he said reassuringly as he took his cock into his hand, stroking it slowly. You couldn’t tear your eyes away from the motion, drool pooling in your mouth at the sight. Yuta approached you again, framing your body with his own. 
“Where’s that condom you were talking about?” 
“Purse.”
“That’s too far,” he said resolutely, reaching over to his nightstand and opening the drawer. He pulled out a square of gold foil and brought it to his mouth before slamming the drawer closed. You watched as he ripped the packet open with his teeth, catching the rubber in his open palm. He spit the wrapper out, and you watched as it fluttered towards the floor. Yuta rocked back onto his heels, sheathing his cock in the condom before returning to cage your body with his.
“I’m gonna put it in now, okay?” he asked as he lined himself up with your slit.
“Yeah, ‘m ready,” you said, feeling the head of his cock press against your opening. 
Slowly, Yuta sank into your heat, moaning at the tightness that enveloped him. You whined along with him, the stretch of him burning beautifully as he filled you. You’d never felt so full, so complete. After what felt like ages, he finally bottomed out inside you. 
He remained still, giving you time to adjust to the fullness, but you soon grew impatient, rocking your hips down.
“You can move Yuu, want you to.”
That was all the encouragement he needed to begin thrusting into you. Shallow at first, before pulling further out only to fuck into you even deeper. Yuta was perfect, fucking you deep and steady, using his free hand to toy with the nipple that wasn’t in his mouth. You were quickly overstimulated by the feeling of his mouth, cock, and fingers. All you could do was whine combinations of your brother’s name and curses as he fucked you into the mattress. 
“You take my cock so fucking well, baby. I was born for you, this dick was made just for you,” he growled against your chest, punctuating his point with a especially deep thrust. 
“Love your cock, Yuta! Feels so good!”
“Fuck yeah baby, ready to cum f’me?”
“Yes, yes, wanna cum!” you proclaimed as you felt his hand move from your nipple to your clit. He began rubbing tight circles around the bud as his hips moved relentlessly against yours. He pulled his lips off your nipple with a pop, moving up to kiss your hungry lips. 
“Such a good girl for me, such a perfect little sister, letting your big brother fuck your tight little pussy. Gonna let me do it again yeah? Not gonna be satisfied after one time, are you?” He whispered against your lips.
“No, want this all the time, feels so good Yuta! Never stop, ‘m so close, so close!”
“Come on, you can do it. Squirt all over your big brother’s cock baby! Make a mess, make a fucking mess all over me!” he urged, rubbing your clit faster as his thrusts gained speed. His dirty mouth sent you over the edge, the tight band of pleasure in the pit of your tummy snapping. You gushed on Yuta’s cock with a shriek, eyes seeing white as you came. You could barely hear his chants of “Good girl!” as he chased his own high. His hips stuttered and jerked as you milked him, finally stilling as he released his load into the piece of latex that separated you two. 
He lowered his damp forehead to rest against yours and the two of you caught your breath. After a few minutes, he pulled out and rolled from on top of you to lay beside you, wrapping you in his strong arms. You cuddled into them without a second thought, relishing in his warmth and protection. You both remained silent the whole time until you felt him take a deep breath.
“Do you…do you regret what we just did?” Yuta asked in a small voice.
“...No. Not even a little bit.”
“Thank god. We don’t have to do it again, I just wanted to make sure th–”
“What if I want to?”
“Huh?”
“What if I want to do it again?” you asked, adjusting so that you could look into his eyes.
“Then you’re gonna have to stop going on dates with shitty men.”
“Done. You’re the only man I need.”
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831 notes · View notes
exhaslo · 6 months
Note
Hi I love your work btw <3
I was wondering about Yandere!Miguel x Female!Reader . I loved your breeding one but I’m open to anything you’re willing to write. Just your yandere Miguel is one of my favorites :3
Thank you in advance <3
Yandere Miguel is getting quite popular for me, haha. I've done a few of him before and was going to wait until I write the mini series, but I can make this one separate from the series I'm going to write.
Here we goooo~
Warning: MINORS DNI, Smut, p in v, breeding, manipulation
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"Hello, I'm (Y/N), it's a pleasure to meet you all. I'll try my best to help everyone out!"
Miguel's eyes widen as he watched you introduce yourself to his group at Alchemax. You were a new hire, a beautiful one at that. Miguel felt his heart race as he already knew that you were meant for him. You were meant to be with him.
"Oh, I'm not as smart as the rest of you all. I'm just here to help file paperwork," You kept answering questions.
Miguel had to bite the inside of his cheek as his coworkers kept talking to you. How dare they? Taking deep breathes, Miguel kept his composure and decided to approach you. Everyone moved away from him for a good reason.
"We're happy to have you working with us, (Y/N)." Miguel said with a warm smile, holding his hand out.
"T-Thanks," You stuttered, shaking his hand.
Miguel hummed lowly. Your hands were soft. Once you let go, you immediately went to your new station. As much as Miguel wanted to follow, he needed to know more about you first.
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You had only been working at Alchemax for a week and already felt drained. This was a job opportunity given to you by a distant family member. You didn't even want to work here, but you needed some good money and fast.
A soft sigh escaped your lips as you thought of all your bills. You were told to move out the moment you turned eighteen and these last few years have been a struggle for you. Lately, it just kept getting worse and you were on the verge of breaking.
"Looks like you need a pick me up," Miguel said as he dropped off a bagel and coffee. You quickly rubbed your eyes,
"Thanks, Miguel. This is sweet of you," You told him.
Miguel was the nicest and hottest coworker you had. Every time you were confused or had an issue, he came over to help you. You were happy that you were on his good side since he was the smartest and grumpiest person in this whole building according to your other coworkers.
"We're going to do an experiment soon, want to take a break and come watch?" Miguel offered. You glanced towards him, a fleeting blush against your cheeks,
"Sure,"
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Miguel was winning you over, he knew it. You had been working at Alchemax for over a month and Miguel was starting to lose his patience. Plus, his temper.
The amount of coworkers he had to intimate because they looked at you.
The amount of coworkers he had gotten fired just because they talked to you.
The amount of coworkers he met after work as Spiderman to teach a lesson for having the balls to ask you out.
Miguel patience was running thin. He needed to take you away from all of these vultures. You were too good for any of them. Too good for him even, but Miguel did not care.
"Hey...Miguel, are you free this Friday night?" You were hesitate to approach him. Miguel's eyes sparkled, enjoying this shy side of you,
"Yes, why?"
"Well...I was wondering, and you can say no, but do you want to watch a movie with me?"
"I'd love too,"
Perfect. Not the way he expected, but a date is a date. Miguel was going to take this opportunity to make you his girlfriend. Once that step was secured, Miguel needed to start making you dependable on him for everything in your life.
To have you only rely on him.
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Humming happily to your playlist, you sat in your room, texting Miguel. You had officially became his girlfriend after your first date with him and everything was going amazing. Miguel was the perfect boyfriend.
You squealed, laying on your bed as Miguel texted loving comments about you. You had only been dating him a month and you couldn't get him off your mind. Miguel was helping you with everything, from your work life to even home issues.
"Ah! Already?!" You gasped, looking at the time.
Miguel was coming over to help you with managing your bills. Quickly, you got dressed and hurried towards the kitchen. Snacks, check. Drinks, check. Sexy lingerie, check.
"Beautiful as always, amor (love)." Miguel pecked your lips as you opened the door for him.
Miguel watched your excitement build as you eagerly showed him your apartment. It was small, but Miguel was going to let you have this moment. Soon, you'd be living with him. Miguel had already taken care of your job at working, planting you right next to him.
Worked out since he took over his father's company and became CEO. You were now his secretary, which was why he came over to help you with bills. Miguel was going to show you that you didn't need to worry about them anymore once he pays them off for you.
"Hm? And what's this?" Miguel whispered, spotting your panties, "I thought we were going to work on your bills?"
"W-We are! This...This is just, um, motivation?"
"Just for me?" Miguel whispered once more, getting horny at the thought of you needing him.
"Y-Yes," You breathed out, feeling his hands roam your body.
"My good girl,"
That night, you weren't focusing on bills. Miguel had you pinned to the bed, pounding the life out of your cunt. You were a moaning mess, crying out his name while he filled you repeatedly. Once he was done abusing your poor pussy, Miguel started to take care of your bills.
"Mhm," You muffled lowly in your sleep.
Miguel shushed you, holding your hips up to keep his cum inside you. Miguel wanted you to have his child, it was the best way to keep you with him. A dark chuckle escaped his lips as his dick harden at the thought of you pregnant with his kid.
"Oh, amor, I don't think you're quite full yet."
---------
You whimpered lowly as you buried your face into the pillow, moaning as Miguel thrusted his dick into your pussy. He had been going nonstop since you officially moved in with him. You could hardly feel your legs anymore. Miguel was the only holding you up.
"I can't hear you, (Y/N), I need you to speak up." Miguel teased as he slapped his hips into you rougher.
"M-Mig...mhm~ I...ah~...s'much~" You cried out, cumming hard against his dick.
"But this is your welcome home present. Gotta make you into a mother, no?" Miguel groaned your pussy squeezed and clenched his dick, "Doesn't my dick feel right at home in you? Don't you want me to give you a baby?"
"Y-Yes~ Mhpm~" You gripped the bedsheets, your mind growing hazy.
"That's right, (Y/N), you moved in with me because I'm all you have. I'm all you ever need."
Miguel chuckled as he gave you another fill of his cum. Pulling out, he watched you pant heavily for air, on the verge of passing out. Once again, he lifted your hips, wanting to keep his cum inside you. His eyes sparkled as you mumbled his name.
"Such a good girl,"
Miguel had successfully stolen your life for his own. You now only relied on him, trusted him and believed him. You stayed at home, helping Miguel with mission reports so you wouldn't get bored. You broke all contact with anyone, but Miguel.
You were his.
---------
"Miguel, c-can't this...wait until later? I...I have to make dinner," You said with a soft whine.
"You're doing such a good job, just stay still for another few minutes," Miguel hummed.
You were currently sitting on Miguel's dick, cockwarming him as he did some work for both Alchemax and the Spider Society. It had been two years since you started living with Miguel, and you could not regret a thing.
Miguel was your everything. He took care of you and your son. Miguel made sure to take you out to places and give you what you wanted, as long as you stayed home and be his good little wife.
"Miggy~" You whimpered into his ear, trying to get any sort of friction. Miguel held you in place,
"Shh, if we wanna give our a son a sibling, you have to be patient." Miguel chuckled.
"Mhm~"
You folded easily. Miguel was such a smooth talker. After another few minutes, you whimpered again, nearly drooling from the teasing. Miguel finally gave you what you wanted and thrusted into you, enjoying your pornographic moans and cries.
"Good girl, who do you belong to again?"
"Y-You,"
"That's right. You belong to me now and-"
FOREVER
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Waaaah, I hoped you liked this! I will be doing an official Yandere!Miguel series eventually (just has to win the poll) after I finish the Mafia!Miguel series!!
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sparkle-fiend · 1 year
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Eddie is six years old, the first time he hears the voice. 
It wakes him with a jolt – sends him tearing through the house, searching under every bed and behind every door for the boy he hears calling his name.
Mama finally stops him. “Sweetheart, what did you lose this time?” (Eddie is always losing things.) She looks impatient, standing with a laundry basket balanced on one cocked hip, curly hair spilling out of the messy bun on top of her head.
“I heard somebody saying my name! I gotta find him, I think he’s hiding.”
Mama’s whole attitude changes, all at once. She sets the laundry aside and drops to her knees in front of him, squeezing his little hands between her own. “Oh baby. That voice means you’ve got a soulmate!”
She smiles bright as the suncatcher hanging in the window, and presses sloppy kisses all over his face until he screams with laughter, squirming to get away. 
“My lucky, special boy!”
Eddie’s never been lucky before. It’s exciting.
———
In school, they learn all about soulmates. About how rare they are. Uncle Wayne is the only other person Eddie knows that has one. 
When he found out about Uncle Wayne’s soulmate, Eddie was so excited – bubbling full of questions, like a bottle of fizzy pop. But whenever he tried to talk about it, his dad got real mad.
“You keep your mouth shut about soulmates,” he said. “Don’t talk about that shit in front of your uncle.”
It’s hard. Eddie starts staying over at Uncle Wayne’s trailer more and more when Mama gets sick. And Eddie’s never been good at following rules; especially when he’s curious about something.
“Uncle Wayne?” Eddie finally asks one day. “Where’s your soulmate? How come I’ve never seen her?” You have met her right? is what Eddie’s really asking. He can’t imagine waiting until he’s as old as Uncle Wayne to find his soulmate.
His uncle goes sort of brittle, tensing up like every joint is made of glass. His lips press together behind his beard, and his denim blue eyes go shiny and wet – like he’s trying not to cry.
If Eddie could take the question back, he would. Suck it right back into his mouth, like the smoke from his uncle’s cigarettes. This is why you gotta listen better baby – that’s what his Mama would probably say.
“My Lorretta died a few years ago. Before you were born.”
Eddie never considered that. In all the movies, soulmates die together. The thought of it leaves a queasy feeling squirming through his stomach.
“I still hear her though,” Uncle Wayne says, with a terribly soft look in his eyes. “Still hear her singing our song.”
“Like a memory?” Eddie whispers.
His uncle shakes his head. “Time don’t matter for soulmates – no more than distance. I can hear her still, across the years.”
Like a ghost, his uncle doesn’t say. A ghost that will haunt him forever. None of the dry textbooks in school ever mentioned that part.
It starts to worry Eddie. As he gets older, his soulmate’s voice starts to get clearer. He always hears the same thing – a desperate, grown-up voice screaming at him to “Run Eddie! RUN!!!” 
It must be from the future. But his soulmate sounds so scared. What could possibly happen, to make his soulmate sound like that?
Eddie starts to listen to music more. Loud, heavy stuff to drown out the frightened voice. 
Late at night, he curls up under the covers and softly sings his Mama’s favorite song – hoping that somewhere, somewhen, his soulmate will hear him.
That it might help, the way it helps Eddie when Mama sings him to sleep.
———
Eddie is twelve years old, the first time he really listens to the voice.
Mama's been dead two years, and his dad keeps pulling riskier and riskier jobs. Tonight, he's decided to try and break into the pawn shop on Fifth street. 
Eddie is the lookout, stationed on the opposite corner with a pistol weighing heavy in the pocket of his coat (just in case, Ed). 
He doesn't want to be here. He tried to argue with his dad. Said, "I've got a test tomorrow. I've got homework and..." and I hate this life. (He doesn't say that part.) I don't want to steal cars or break into buildings or mug people. I don't want to be like you.
His dad just gripped him by the arm hard enough to bruise, and said, "You like to eat, dont'cha? Well, lookouts get to eat. Lazy little shits don't." 
So Eddie is standing on a street corner in the middle of the night, watching his dad furtively attempt to pick the lock on the front door of the pawn shop, when a cop car slows down at the end of the street.
Fear floods his bloodstream so fast it leaves him dizzy. The cop has clearly noticed something. Eddie can see the shadowed figure inside the car reach for his radio. 
Eddie has two choices.
He could pull the pistol out of his pocket and fire a few shots down the street, forcing the cop to take cover long enough for his dad to get away (which is what his dad would expect him to do). Or he could... 
"Run!"
The sudden loud voice, echoing between his ears and behind his eyes and inside his heart, startles him into flinching. 
"Run Eddie, RUN!!!" His body obeys before his brain has a chance to process the words. He's halfway down the street when the siren shrieks to life. 
Later, as he sits in the backseat of the social worker's car on the way to his Uncle Wayne, he can't quite believe he did it. He bailed on his dad - left him to get arrested and go to prison. This is Frank Munson's third strike; he'll go away for life this time. 
I'm such a coward, Eddie thinks numbly. Such a chicken piece of shit. He digs his ragged nails into the soft flesh of his palms, squeezing hard enough to draw blood. 
As if he'd spoken aloud, a soft voice responds, "You're not a coward. You're one of the bravest people I've ever known. Running isn't always a bad thing, okay? Sometimes it's just the smart thing to do."
His soulmate sounds so fierce, so certain. Eddie blinks hard against the hot burn of tears. The smart thing to do.
———
Eddie holds onto those words, like magic talismans. They provide comfort, not just in the immediate days after his dad's arrest, but other times too. Every time he runs away from a bully or a cop or a deal gone bad, Eddie thinks to himself - I'm not a coward. I'm just smart.
It works... until the night he stumbles out of his uncle's trailer, leaving Chrissy Cunningham's broken body on the living room floor. He's so terrified he doesn't have time to think, not until after he's ditched his van and taken shelter in Rick's boathouse. As he leans against the splintered wall and catches his breath, it hits him.
I left her there. What if she was still alive? (She wasn't. She couldn't have been. Not after... not after that.) He grabs fistfuls of hair and tugs until his scalp aches. Wracks his brain trying to figure out what happened, what he could have done to stop it.
He's never felt so ashamed before, not even when his dad was cursing and screaming and calling him a coward through the thick glass of the visitation window. 
His soulmate's words whisper in his ears, "...sometimes it's just the smart thing to do," and Eddie pounds on his skull with his fists to drown the voice out. "Not this time," he snarls. I should have done something. I should have tried to save her. 
He doesn’t feel smart this time. He feels like a cowardly piece of shit.
His soulmate’s voice falls silent. 
Through all the craziness to follow – finding out that monsters are real, running for his life from an angry mob, fighting alongside Steve Harrington in an evil Upside Down version of Hawkins – Eddie doesn’t hear his soulmate again.
Not until he’s staring up at Dustin Henderson, realizing that he can’t run away again. As he hesitates at the bottom of the rope, Dustin calls out nervously, “Eddie, what are you doing?”  
“I’m buying more time,” he says. He ignores Dustin’s screams as he cuts the rope and slides the mattress out of the way – making sure the kid can’t follow him. 
And then he hears his soulmate say, “Wait, wait a second. Eddie?! Is that you?” 
Eddie is twenty years old, the first time he recognizes his soulmates voice.
He pauses at the door of the trailer and squeezes his eyes shut tight. “Hey Stevie.”
“Holy shit, it’s you,” Steve whispers in awe.
It’s the first time they’ve been able to speak to each other like this, responding in real-time. Eddie wishes it could have happened in different circumstances.
“I’m so sorry Steve.” 
“Eddie? What are you doing?” Steve sounds alarmed.
Eddie doesn’t answer. He slams his way out of the barricaded trailer and grabs one of the discarded bikes, hoping to lead the swarm of bats away as far as possible. 
He makes it halfway across the trailer park before one of the bats knocks him off the bike. He grunts and rolls, gaining his feet quickly. Chest heaving, charged with adrenalin – Eddie hesitates. He could keep running… or he could stand his ground and fight. 
Maybe Steve can hear the hitch in his breath in that moment, because the other boy seems to have worked out what’s going on, even from miles away. Steve screams, “No!!! Run Eddie, RUN!!!!”
It’s like the night his dad got arrested. Eddie doesn’t even have time to think - his body reacts to that voice and he runs, worn Reeboks slapping the pavement.
(In another world, Eddie would have turned to face the swarm. In another world, Eddie would have died.)
He’s fast. He’s always been fast. He buys himself a few precious moments, before the bats drag him to the ground. They start to rip through his clothes, through his flesh, and he tries to hold back his screams – he doesn’t want Steve to hear this…
Those extra seconds save his life. It’s bad - but not as bad as it could have been. The bats start to drop from the sky, writhing and shrieking; they’re dying, although Eddie has no idea why. Hopefully, it means Steve and the girls were successful. 
He struggles to sit up just as Dustin reaches him, crying and frantic. “Eddie!! Oh my god, are you okay? Jesus, there’s so much blood…” the kid moans. 
“Yeah, yep. I’m good,” Eddie pants through gritted teeth. “Help me up okay?”
Dustin insists on binding the worst of his wounds first, using strips of fabric torn from the ghillie suit. The pain makes Eddie want to scream all over again, but he allows it. It is an awful lot of blood.
They lean against each other and limp back to the trailer, where Dustin knots t-shirts and jeans and flannel shirts into the remnants of their rope until it’s long enough to reach the other side again. 
Eddie manages to haul himself up the rope and through the gate – and that’s where his strength runs out. The pain of landing on the thin mattress knocks him right out.
———
When Eddie wakes up, he’s in a hospital bed. 
Holy shit I’m alive, he thinks. He honestly wasn’t sure he would make it.
He moves gingerly, testing each limb, turning his head against the stinging pull of a bandage along the edge of his jaw.
The room isn’t empty; Eddie apparently has a roommate. He clears his throat and the person in the other bed stirs, turning to look at him. 
It’s Steve.
His soulmate.
Eddie feels a funny little swoop of exhilaration in his stomach. “Hey Stevie.”
Steve’s face goes soft at first, like he’s experiencing the same fizzy warmth that Eddie is feeling. Then he blinks, and his brows draw down into a scowl. “What the hell was that, huh? What happened to ‘I’m no hero’?”
Oops. 
Eddie tries to make light of the situation. “Maybe I wanted to try it out,” he says flippantly. “Not too sure it suits me though. Think I might stick to being a coward from now on – it’s a lot less painful.” 
Steve doesn’t smile. He fixes Eddie with a serious look, hazel eyes blazing in the sallow light of the hospital room. “You listen to me Eddie Munson. You're not a coward. You're one of the bravest people I've ever known. Running isn't always a bad thing, okay? Sometimes it's just the smart thing to do."
Eddie’s breath catches in his throat. Those words – once a gift from the future, now an echo of the past. He never should have ignored them. “Maybe you’re right.”
Steve’s mouth is already open to continue the argument. “I…” he stops, clearly caught off-guard, face scrunched in adorable confusion. “Yeah. Yeah, I am right.”
Steve runs a faintly trembling hand through his hair. The angry expression melts into something gentler, almost unbearably soft. “I’m glad you listened to me in the end, at least.”
Eddie shifts his weight, pressing his cheek into the scratchy hospital pillow so he can keep his eyes on Steve. 
He’s so beautiful. Even bloody and bruised, with dirt still smudged along his hairline and dark circles under his eyes – he’s the most beautiful boy Eddie has ever seen. And Eddie almost gave this up – if he’d died in the Upside Down, he would have left Steve alone, with only the echo of Eddie’s voice left to haunt him.
“Yeah,” Eddie says hoarsely, “me too.”
He still feels guilty over Chrissy’s death - he probably always will. But he’s coming to realize that proving himself a hero wouldn’t have been worth the pain his death would have caused.
Eddie’s got a second chance… and he plans to make the most of it.
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katebeckets · 4 months
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GET TO KNOW ME  ✰ [7/10] Movies ⤷ 27 Dresses (2008)
"I've been waiting my whole life for the right guy to come along, and then you showed up. And you are nothing like the man I imagined. You're cynical and cranky and impossible. But the truth is, fighting with you is the best thing that has ever happened to me. And I think there's a very good chance that I'm falling in love with you."
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fleursbending · 1 year
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𝐀𝐓 𝐋𝐄𝐀𝐒𝐓, 𝐈'𝐌 𝐓𝐑𝐘𝐈𝐍𝐆. 
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𝐩𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬 : sully!family x daughter!reader
𝐬𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲 : you try to prove to your family the endurance you behold. but your trials and tribulations get the best of you. 𝐚𝐮𝐭𝐡𝐨𝐫'𝐬 𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐞 : requested, yes | no. based on a few chosen lyrics from the song this is me trying by taylor swift. not proofread sorry! 𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬 : angst no comfort, dialogue-heavy, character death oops, deviates from the original atwow movie plot!
𝐠𝐥𝐨𝐬𝐬𝐚𝐫𝐲 : - ‘eveng - child // tsmuke - sister // iknimaya - rite of passage // muntxate - wife // ngaytxoa - i'm sorry // 'ite - daughter // sa'nok - mother // olo’eyktan - clan leader // tsamsiyu - warrior // 𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭 : 2k words.
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I've been having a hard time adjusting.
Life in the Hallelujah Mountains was a direct juxtaposition from whence you came. The ruggedness of the rocks, the sound of your feet making contact with the stones beneath you. There wasn't any shrubbery to whack out of your face. Instead, it was squeezing around the commune of people and narrowly avoiding knocking into tents.
You missed the plushness of the earth that would encompass you, guiding you to another adventure. Instead of your feet aching at the impact, they'd sink into the soil. When you'd inhale, the oxygen granted you serenity.
Up here the air was a little thinner, not enough to affect your oxygen on a larger scale - but it didn't pass you. Nothing did.
You made sure your father knew of such grievances.
I had the shiniest wheels, now they're rusting.
A prodigy had been birthed within you the moment your soul graced the world. The people were more than hyperaware of it. Especially Mo'at who looked like she'd seen Eywa herself as Neytiri cradled you for the first time in her arms.
That was before. When wielding a bow and arrow came easy to you, when you'd been the youngest to have a successful hunt, when you'd come back from a fishing trip with your dad with enough to feed the whole clan.
After coming in the form of your brother who was proving to be someone who looked and felt like he was more deserving of the role of Olo'eyktan one day.
The berries on top came in the form of leaving the communities rendition of Home Tree up to the mountains where the Sky People could no longer target them.
She'd never felt this weathered down, this loneliness ebbing away at all her wasted potential. The regrets anchor themselves then, a stark reminder that this war was brooding and vicious. At a young age, she must force herself to become capable.
I didn't know if you'd care if I came back.
When the day came for you to prove just that, you did so within a blink of an eye. You didn't know the consequences that would come for doing so, all that was drilled in your mind was "my family."
So when your mother's arrows came flying in the dark of the night to try to save you from your kidnappers. The rain casts itself over and your little sister Tuk is getting choked out by one of the soldiers. This was your time to truly try.
I have a lot of regrets about that.
You barreled in, ripping the soldier's hands from your sister's neck, and pushing her behind you.
"Go tuk, run!" Urgency is crystal in your voice, and Lo'ak can only give you a quick glance of fear before grabbing your sister in haste.
He was waiting for you.
"No, Lo'ak - go! I'll follow after you, okay?" You grunt, trying to battle this soldier off.
He soundlessly nods, gulping and blinking the tears that prickle at his eyes before disappearing into the foliage and eclipse of the night.
If only her stubborn self just kneed the soldier in the groin and left with them.
Could've followed my fears all the way down.
The trepidation began to bubble in the pit of her belly, and it sunk deeper and deeper the more the soldier overpowered her.
A wrangled cry escapes her throat as a very distinct "pop" echoes through the brewing chaos. He'd dislocated her shoulder. She didn't have time to dwell on it though, her uninjured arm reaching for the knife and unsheathing it from the soldier's grasp.
Everything slows down then.
Somehow she's being pushed onto the floor, and the knife that was once pressed to her perpetrator's neck was now inching into her stomach.
Oh, she's hurt. Blood pooled in her mouth then, the man letting out a menacing laugh - gun in hand and about to land a bullet to her head when an arrow shot into his instead.
And maybe I don't quite know what to say.
"My dear 'eveng, no!" She hovers over you in worry, looking around before muttering apologies. The knife was still lodged in your gut as she tried her best to lift you up and carry you to safety.
Your hand gripping the handle of the knife weakens, slipping in and out of consciousness as your mother tries her best to find the others.
"Ngaytxoa, sa'nok." You rasp out, chest shuddering at the sheer effort such a minor action took.
She hushed you, worries growing at how pale you'd already gotten as she enters a clearing.
"Muntxate?" A hushed whisper comes from in front of you.
It makes your mother jump in fright, jostling you a little making you let out something akin to a wail.
"Ma Jake, help her! I do not know what to do!" Your mother sobs in defeat, crouching to gently lay you down on the soft patch of grass beneath you.
"D-dad..." You grunted as his hand pressed on your dislocated shoulder.
I just wanted you to know, that this is me trying.
"Ma 'ite, what happened?" Your sempul's eyes glaze over in worry taking in your form. He did not know anatomy well, but the placement of where you'd been stabbed would have definitely gotten some of your organs.
"I had to save her dad, I had to save Tuk" She mumbled, eyes lost and looking at the night sky peering at her through the branches of trees.
"Tsmuke!" Tuk whines out, kneeling by your head at the mention of her name. She'd forever be in debt to you, and while she was young - her heart knew what was coming.
Lo'ak, Neteyam, and Kiri, follow her movements. All of them settled by you, not knowing what on earth to do but be there for their sibling.
Jake gave them all a look then, a twisted confirmation - an ending to your chapter. This wound was lethal, and you were suffering.
They told me all of my cages were mental.
Neytiri and Jake had never felt such utter distraught until today's events. Sure their kids were mischievous, always finding themselves up to no good. But they thought they had this handled, each battle they've gone into - they've lost some...not all.
Yet this felt too cruel, too world-altering and crumbling. Their child, is so frail and withering.
You and Neteyam were their mighty tsamsiyu's. Never did they want to have to see you go like this. Not when you had so much ahead yet to experience and live through.
They knew you were going through your own external crisis, and now more than ever - your parents wished they'd been more of a lending hand.
So caught up in raids, so caught up in making a stand - protecting their people. That their daughter had swept herself under a mat right before their eyes.
Her cages were going to finally win today, how ironic.
I was so ahead of the curve, the curve became a sphere.
As the eldest Sully daughter, you were more than self-aware of the baggage that came with who you'd become. The mantle to live upon and make yourself a dazzling star to gain the approval of your people.
You won over the people, and their hearts and souls. Strong in their eyes, almost the exact replica of Neytiri.
A healer apprentice under Mo'at, yet still going hunting with your father and brothers. There was a balance you'd manage to create that aided in you spreading out all the help and effort you could give.
But spreading yourself out so thinly can only last for so long.
Fell behind on my classmates, and I ended up here.
Even if you were the eldest though, you knew Neteyam was the one to become Olo'eyktan. It was what your Tsahik wanted, after all, Eywa had spoken it to her after Neteyam successfully finished his Iknimaya.
The tasks that filled up every inch of your day began to dwindle, and the people's hearts swayed to another. Your own brother, yet you didn't blame him for it.
For now, he to had to bare the weight that comes with a treacherous amount of responsibilities. The weight that comes with being named the future Olo'ekytan of your clan.
Therefore your uselessness began to amount...to nothing. Your father began to pour his efforts and lessons into Neteyam, who before used to just be a bystander - it was his turn to be molded.
Sure, you still were a daughter of the infamous yet famous Sully's, but the desire to be more than that no longer was set aflame.
Pouring out my heart to a stranger.
"I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'm sorry, - I just wanted to live up to you both. I wanted to be better, I just wanted to protect our family." She whispered, voice growing fainter as time ticked by.
"That's not on you to do!" Jake wept then, infuriated at the circumstances. It should have been him who suffered at the hands of the sky people, it was him they wanted anyway.
"At that moment - it felt like it, sempul." She insisted, her weak hand grasping his own that hovered over the knife still embedded in her.
"Leave it, I'm going to be okay. You're going to be okay."
A sharp gasp leaves his lips, before forcing them closed. His head shakes, shoulders quaking as he tries to muffle his cries.
Neytiri lets her hand rest on his shuddering shoulder as she leans down to press a feather-like kiss yet filled with so much purpose to your forehead.
She tries to explain.
"What your sempul is trying to say, is that it should be us who had been there. Not hiding in the dark, by your side."
At least, I'm trying.
A broken scoff escaped you then, "Can you just say thank you? I'm trying, I tried. I just wanted to show you guys I still had it in me. I wanted to save my little sister. I wanted to be of use, I wanted to help."
Neytiri doesn't care for the tears that cascade down her face, instead thumbing her daughter's ones away instead.
"I knew you always had it in you, baby girl. I'm sorry if it seemed like I ever stopped. I'm so sorry." Jake's voice wavers, cracks, a tear of his dropping onto your cheek - masked by your own that moves like a silent ship.
He was determined then, your efforts would not go down in vain.
And it's hard to be at a party when I feel like an open wound.
A smile graced her face then, one of acceptance. The clock was going to halt soon and she hopes that her intentions did not come off as something vengeful and selfish. But from a place of genuine protection and vigilance.
One fleeting look at them gave her great comfort though, they knew.
She etched the faces of her family into her heart then, even if they looked like they were in as much pain as you currently were. You wanted them to be the last thing you'd see.
The pain numbed then, the cries of anguish from the people that love her the most in this unsure world - muted.
The one thing that never faltered was the tight grasp of your father's hand that held onto your own, a gentle reminder that he was there as his thumb rubbed a soothing motion on the back of your hand.
Right by her your mother caressed your hair, occasionally leaning down to press another kiss to your head. Her cries oddly quieting, instead, revenge began to paint scenarios in her mind. All while she reminisced of everything you had been and what you were becoming.
"We're here, Tsmuke." Neteyam whispered, Kiri and Lo'ak chime in with a wavering hum of unfortunate understanding.
Hidden between the lines of such a simple statement, it's alright - you can let go and rest now.
Her heart stills then.
I just wanted you to know, that this is me trying.
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𝒇𝒍𝒆𝒖𝒓𝒔𝒃𝒆𝒏𝒅𝒊𝒏𝒈 ━━━ 𝟐𝟎𝟐𝟑
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Longtime follower and I love seeing your insights, so wondered if you had thoughts or advice on this:
I live alone and I'm not in a relationship, though I do date. I'd say ninety percent of the time I really enjoy my life, seven percent I'm a bit sad or annoyed about not having a partner yet, and three percent I get tossed into the Pit of Despair. That three percent can be tied into hormonal cycles, bad timing, etc - even when I know the cause, it still needs to be lived through. Has that happened with you? If so, how do you manage it? I do okay, but it feels like I could do better.
Ah, but the Pit of Despair and I are best friends now. I've sent pictures from the Pit, all featuring me with an absolutely humorless, rictus grin, which does make me wonder why no one else has noticed yet. I have a timeshare in the Pit of Despair. I spend some time there every six months or so, standing in the middle of my impossibly overgrown, dingy garden, and thinking to myself, how did I get here? how do I get out?
And then, as though endurance isn't enough...then your timeshare in the Pit ends. You emerge in the daylight and immediately forget how grey and hopeless that garden was, the weirdly stained, collapsing furniture in the corner and the crooked yellowing plants and that mean laughter you could sometimes hear over the sounds of waving grass. You think to yourself: that will never happen again! I am free! I am cured!
(This will feel so much worse, the next time you're shoved back into the stupid garden.)
That said, I don't think you're going to like my answer to your next question. This is because I don't like my answer; unfortunately, it remains the only answer I have to this question.
I think having some unsettled sorrow, just a touch of existential despair, is the best we can hope to do in this life.
I think that with both rueful humor and deep, deep disgust, which is typically the combo I bring to musings about being a person. Of course it's a little funny---look at the monkey, it's got anxiety!---and of course it's also frustrating, unspeakable outside of bitter cursing, a problem that will not be fixed because quite frankly it's built too deeply into us to be cut out cleanly and thrown away.
(Look at the fucking monkey, you can tell yourself through gritted teeth, standing in that horrible garden with weeks of dirty dishes in the sink and an inbox of emails and friends blowing up your phone with plans you hate to even think about. It's got anxiety.)
I do not have a cure for this. I manage it with the same sort of humor and ruefulness and bitterness that I mentioned above---I don't beat myself up anymore, when I realize I'm standing in the horrible garden again. I know it too well. Sometimes it has an okay wifi connection? I watch some movies. I get done what I can, and forgive myself the rest. I have been here before; I will get out again. I just need to be patient.
Once I'm out, there will be a whole world, I know there will---full of music I haven't heard before and stories that won't make me cringe and emails I will respond to with ease and conversations where I can be light, amusing even. There is a world beyond the Pit. There is always a world beyond the Pit, I just can't find my way back sometimes.
In the meantime, I take another terrible picture in front of the stained furniture, and caption it "Hello from the Pit!!!" with a bunch of exclamation points to indicate that it's a joke, even though it isn't.
I wait.
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