#Not to mention I've been trying to convince myself it's okay because I've been working on drawing skills my drawings have barely improved

[ssa-atlas-alvez]

okay but. imagine cowboy!reader is actually very educated. pro-LGBTQ, pro-choice, BLM, acab. very big speaker and doesn't take shit. BUT everyone thinks he isn't gonna educated and such until they're on a case dealing with like a trans kid and he's the first one to step up and comfort the kid and such. man im in the rabbit hole.

Allergies (Not Really)

No no no no no but the way I've started one where something of this theme happens (I don't want to give too much away aha)

Word count: 3.6k

Warnings: transphobia, sad reader :( (i teared up a little ngl - it's not sad, he's just sad), guns, bullet wound, fighting, briefly mentions some murders to set the scene a bit, someone calls reader a redneck

Also I just want to say that the relationship between Mia and (Y/N) is completely platonic, maybe familial (a bit older brother-y or fatherly) not anything else. Just because I'm panicking because they spend a lot of time joking about and I wanna make that clear.

Taglist: @xweirdo101x @xdark-acadamiax

Your blood boils when you hear the case, an unsub has been targeting young families (parents and three kids all under the age of sixteen). The last family had a survivor, a twelve-year-old transgender girl named Mia, who was currently in the hospital being treated for a variety of injuries.

Your jaw clenches as you read the hospital report, whilst it wasn't too long (thankfully), you knew she would still have a lot to work through mentally.

"You alright over there, Eastwood?" Morgan asks.

"Just angers me, is all," You answer, not feeling the need to elaborate, feeling the source of your anger being fairly self-explanatory. You miss the concerned look Rossi and Hotch share. 

A few hours later, the jet landed, once everyone was situated at the police station, you turned to the team.

"I'm gonna head to the hospital, make sure Mia's okay," You said.

"Are you sure that's a good idea?" Rossi’s the one that says it, but you can see everyone's thinking the same thing. 

"Wha- Why wouldn't it be?... Oh I see," You say as the penny finally drops and it clicks, "Y'all think 'cause I'm from the South I'm against her bein' herself?" You sigh softly, rubbing the back of your neck, "Have I not proved myself yet?"

No one says anything for a moment, shocked by the hurt that flashes in your eyes, before they can, you pick your hat back up, settling it on your head, "I'm headin' to the hospital,” You mumble, leaving the room before anyone can say anything.

When you leave the room, you rub your eyes with the back of your hand. 'Not crying,' You try and convince yourself, 'allergies.' You trying to ignore the fact you know, 100%, that you don't have any allergies. 

You get into one of the SUV's and begin making your way to the hospital, ignoring your phone as it lit up with various concerned messages.

The receptionist was a nice woman and was quick to show you to Mia's room (after staring at you hungrily for a few minutes). You gave a small knock before walking in.

"Are you here to tell me I'm too young to know myself as well?" 

You furrow your eyebrows, "No, who told you that?" 

"One of the nurses," She answers with a shrug. 

"You know which one?" 

"The guy with brown hair," She shrugs as she answers, "It's fine though, happens all the time." 

"I personally don't think y'all are too young to realise who you are," You said with a shrug, "I think anyone who thinks that is trynna hide their bias by invalidatin' your identity."

Mia looks at you for a moment, "I like you." She states, "I thought you were going to be against it." 

"I've been gettin' that a lot today, it would seem," You mumble before your head snaps to the door, relaxing when it's just JJ. "Anyway, I'm (Y/N), this is my colleague, Agent Jareau. Mia, you a'right if we ask you a few questions?" 

"Sure,"

"Could you run us through what happened that night?"

"Mum and dad were cooking. We were all sitting at the table doing our homework, and someone knocked on the door." Mia began, "They asked me to open the door, and he grabbed me and put a gun to my head. He shot my dad, then-"

You gave her a small, encouraging smile, "You're doin' great,"

"Did you get a look at the person that did this?" JJ asked, when Mia nodded, she continued, "What did they look like?"

Your eyes widen in worry as the heart machine next to Mia picks up, as does her breathing. You pull yourself together and turn your attention to her, "Mia? Mia, hey," Your voice is soft as you kneel next to her, "You need to take some deep breaths for me sweetheart,"

"Can't-"

You nod at her, "Yes, yes you can," You encourage, "Deep breaths, in, one, two, three, four, five, and out. That was good, keep going," 

It takes a moment, but her breathing evens out and she appeared to be less anxious, "There we go," You grin, "Told ya," 

"Okay, Texas," Your jaw drops slightly, the joke catching you off guard. 

"That's not fair, I can't even say anythin' back without bullin' a child," 

"Ha ha." She responds, you throw your hands up in the air, smiling when she laughs at you. 

JJ rolls her eyes slightly at you with a small smile as the doctor walks in with a few nurses for a routine checkup. Your eyebrows furrow when you see a male nurse with brown hair. Your eyes flick to the name badge, 'Darren', assuming this is the same nurse, you make a mental note of his name.

"We'll be just outside, a'right?"

Her hand shoots out, clinging onto your sleeve, "No! Don't leave!" She looks at you slightly hesitantly, "Please?"

"Hey, hey, it's a'right, I'll stay here," You answer, eyes flicking down to her for a moment before turning to JJ.

"Hotch wants me to go with Morgan to the scene," JJ said, "You good here? I'll let him know,"

"Yeah, yeah, I'm good here and thanks," You give a small smile.

When the doctor and nurses left, you turned to Mia, "That nurse you mentioned earlier? The brown-haired one? Was he in the room just now?" 

Mia nodded, "Yeah,"

"Had a name badge on, name Darren?" Mia nodded once more. "Alright, I'll be back in a moment,"

"Where are you going?"

"I just want a quick word with this Darren fella," You shrug, seeing the look on Mia's face you roll your eyes slightly, "Don't you worry your little head about it, I'm not gonna hurt him or anythin'."

"Okay..." She said.

"Is that a'right?"

Mia shrugged, "Sure." You nodded before exiting the room.

Furrowing your eyes when you came face to face with Rossi, "Howdy, I'm just popping out for a few," You said. 

Rossi nodded, walking into the room after you had left. "I'm Agent Rossi," He said, "I work with (Y/N),"

"The cowboy?"

"Yeah, the cowboy," Rossi huffs a small laugh as he sits in his seat. "Have the staff here been treating you okay?"

Mia shrugs, "Yeah," She answers, "There was one nurse but I think Texas has gone to sort him out or something. He might beat him up."

Rossi smiles slightly, "Texas?" 

"Yeah, the cowboy," She said, "I think he's frustrated that everyone keeps assuming he's going to be against me being trans... I'd be frustrated too, I think," She added after a moment's thought. 

You leave Mia, now feeling slightly better that Rossi will be there whilst you're gone. Spotting your target, you speed up.

"Excuse me! Nurse?" The man turns towards you, Darren. "I just wanted to have a word with you about Mia?"

You watch as Darren shifts uncomfortably. "Yes?"

"I just wanted to say that perhaps telling someone they're too young to understand 'emselves probably doesn't make 'em feel a whole lotta good about 'emselves."

Darren looks you up and down slightly as he takes a few steps towards you. "And what exactly do you know?" He scoffs, "I'm surprised a redneck such as yourself can read and write."

"That's some nice deflection there," You said sarcastically, trying not to let it show how much the stereotypes flung into your face hurt. "Just... don't be a dick. If you don't understand somethin', look it up. I'm sure you can read. So perhaps do your research before you project onto a twelve year old girl." With that, you give a forced smile before turning on your heels and head back to Mia's room.

"Welp, that outta have done it," You give a lopsided grin, "A'right Rossi?" 

"I'm fine Kid, you okay?" 

"Yes sir," You answered, "I might grab myself a drink, y'all want anything?"

Mia laughs, "Y'all?"

"Rossi, Imma need your assistance, I'm getting bullied by a twelve year old," 

"Sorry, Kiddo, can't help you there." He chuckled, "I will ask that you grab me a coffee though."

"Coming right up!" 

Hours later, she's sat up on the bed whilst you're sat on a chair (a rather uncomfortable one) next to the bed, Rossi having left an hour ago, both of your gazes focused on a small, empty glass bottle that stood on the overbed tables. Each armed with a small piece of string as a makeshift lasso. 

"You're not a very good cowboy, are you?" Mia observes as you miss once more. 

"Hey, I haven't done this in a while," 

"How longs a while? Never?" She asked, throwing the lasso perfectly once more. 

"I'll have you know its been, okay so it's been like ten years, a'right? You were two last time I had to lasso something," 

"Wow, you're old." 

"I had no idea twelve year olds were so mean, you're about to make a grown man cry,"

Mia gave a laugh, you quickly joining in. You flung the lasso half-heartedly, eyes widening as it hit its target perfectly. "Yeehaw!" 

"Yeehaw? Seriously? You're so lame." You jaw dropped once more. You both jumped as gunshots echoed throughout the hospital, you sat up straight, immediately turning to Mia.

"Mia, I need you to take this," You handed your phone over to her, "The pass code is 1999, okay? You need to phone Hotch. Lock the door behind me, go into the bathroom and lock that door too, okay?"

Mia looked up at you with wide, scared eyes, "Are you gonna be okay?"

"I'm gonna be absolutely fine, a'right?" When she nodded, you gave her a smile, "Don't open this door until I tell you to, or Hotch phones and says to okay?" 

You shut the door, not moving until you heard it lock in place. When you heard the soft click, you nodded to yourself as you began to make your way towards sound.

Seeing a nurse, you jogged up to her, "Ma'am, try and get everyone into their rooms, tell them not to come out, okay?" The nurse nods and runs off. You continue cautiously towards the sound of gunshots, revolver clutched in your hands.

When you find him, he's holding a person close to his chest, what with that and the people running past you, you don't have a clear shot. You meeting eyes with the wide yes of the hostage against his chest, you look at her, giving a small nod as you inch closer. 

When the moment's right, she ducks her head, pulls her elbow back, before slamming it into the guy's ribs. As he curls over, she wiggles out of her grasp, joining the others in fleeing. With a sigh, you brace yourself before charging at the man, tackling him to the floor.

It takes a moment for the unsub to recover, in that time you've delivered a few blows to his face, both of your guns falling during the tackle. He's quick to flip you over, he aims for the torso first, delivering a handful of well-aimed punches. Next, he takes a fist of your hair, slamming your head into the floor. Once, twice, three times before you get the momentum needed to push him off you.

You staggered up, paying no mind to the pain in your head throbbing in beat with your pulse, the blood on the side of you head that's slowly dripping into your eye, or the ache that's spread through your abdomen. You had to either distract this guy until the team got here or knock him out. Either way, you weren't about to let yourself pass out and let this bastard hurt Mia.

As you're breathing deeply through the pain, the unsub has stood, he (however) is not as chivalrous, so he takes the moment make his way over to you. He grabs your shoulders as he pulls his knee to your groin, pushing you to the floor as you double over in pain. Happy with having the advantage, he continues to aim cheap blows to your sides.

Despite this, you stumble up once more, you keeping your left arm wrapped close to your ribs on your right. They were definitely bruised as a minimum. You duck the punch sent your way, wincing slightly as it pulls on your arm and ribs. Both of your eyes lock on the gun at the same time as the pair of you dive for it. He reaches it first, gripping it tightly in his hands as you immediately go for it, to loosen his grip, anything you can think of.

There's a bang and you grunt as a bullet enters the top of your left arm, adding insult to injury. Okay, so disarming him didn't really work.

"FBI!" You sigh in relief as the unsub is pulled away from you, letting your head fall against the cold floor with your eyes closed - trying to get a grip on the pain. You listen as they cuff the bastard before dragging him out of the hospital. You let your eyes flutter open as you begin to push yourself off of the floor. 

"I'm fine," You mumbled, shrugging Hotch's hands off you, "I'm fine, check on Mia."

"Morgan, stay with (Y/N)."

When Hotch is gone, you turn to Morgan, "I'm fine, go help Hotch."

"Sorry, got my order," Morgan said with a shrug. You don't answer, as much as you don't want to admit it, the pain was really starting you affect your headspace. You felt like you couldn't think. "Come on, let's get you checked out." 

You shook your head, "No, I need to check on Mia first," You mumbled, giving a low groan as you pushed yourself up. 

"Alright, lead the way," Morgan said. You don't answer, simply forcing one foot in front of the other until you're back at Mia's room.

"Is he okay?!" You hear Mia's question through the door.

"He's okay," You hear Hotch reassuring her.

"Then where is he?! He said he'd be here as soon as he could!" Mia's panic causes your eyebrows to furrow, "Oh god, he's dead, isn't he?"

You push the door open, trying to look as put together as possible for Mia, not wanting her to panic. "I'm very much alive, thank you very much," You say.

"I thought he killed you!" She exclaims, rushing towards you. You groan when Mia flings her arms around you, burying her head in your chest and she immediately steps back, seeing the blood her eyes widen. "Holy shit he shot you?!"

"Hey, language," 

"Sorry Texas," She grins, and you roll your eyes. 

"Texas?" Morgan grins, "Oh, that is so sticking around,"

You groan slightly, "Seriously?"

"Seriously." 

You turn to Mia, "Thanks kid," You say sarcastically.

"No problem, old man." Your jaw drops once more.

"I don't know if my ego can take all these insults," 

"I don't know what y'all are talkin' about I would never do such a thing to y'all," She says, trying her best to do an impersonation, giggling slightly at the look of disbelief on your face. 

"That- Now that was just a bridge too far-" You barely get the sentence out before you're huffing a laugh (and then wincing because of said laugh).

"Alright, come on, Texas," Derek smirks, placing a hand on your shoulder, "Let's go get you checked out."

You weren’t too injured (thankfully), minus the bullet wound, it was mostly just bruises. Eventually, you were all stitched up and laid in a hospital bed - which you hated, but Hotch had glared at you when you went to protest. 

A soft knock echoed through the door before it opened, a blonde woman poking her head round. You frowned slightly, not recognising her.

"Hi, I'm Mia's aunt," The woman says and you straighten up (ignoring the discomfort).

"Ma'am," You said with a nod.

"I just wanted to say thank you," 

"What for?" You furrowed your eyebrows as she raised hers, motioning to your current state. "Ma'am I was just doing my job."

"Well, either way, thank you." 

You give a small smile, "No worries, Ma'am."

“I’m going to be her guardian now that-” Mia’s aunt paused, taking a deep breath to compose herself before she continued, “After everything and I really appreciate what you did for her.”

You give her a small smile, “Of course, Ma’am.”

She gives you one last smile as she leaves the room, “Oh, agent?” You look at her, “Is it alright if I bring Mia in? We’re about to head off and she wanted to say goodbye.”

You nod, “Yeah, yeah, of course,” 

When the door closes, you push yourself the best you can, the door opens a few minutes later and Mia walks in.

“How y’all healin’?”

“First, I wouldn’t say y’all if it’s just one person,” You said, rolling your eyes, “Second, I’m doin’ a’right,”

“You missed like seven letters in that sentence,” She laughs, you huff a small laugh, forcing a wince down.

“It’s an art form,” You reply. "Your aunt seems nice,"

“She is, I’m going to live with her,” Mia says, smiling, “She lives in California. I can’t wait, apparently my uncle’s been getting a room ready for me,”

“That’s great,” You smiled. "How are you feeling in yourself?" 

"I'm okay," Mia said with a shrug, "I know it's going to be a while until I'm back to one hundred percent, but I'm willing to put in the work."

"Smart kid," You said, "You'll be okay." 

"Oh, Aunty Meg you should have been there earlier! Texas was all like 'how are y'all doin'?' And he made lassos but he was absolutely useless with one and the last time he used one was when I was two and…"

Mia's voice faded as you looked at the hat on the table for a moment, lightly taking it in your own hands, brushing over the material lightly with the pad of your thumb. It was one of your favourite hats. You looked up, seeing the grin on Mia's face as she did her best cowboy impressions, you smiled. "Hey, I think you'll find, every southerner - impersonator or not - needs their very own hat," You said, reaching over to place it on her head. "Perfect, a true southerner!"

"Well I'll be damned!" Mia exclaimed, tilting the hat slightly. 

"Come on, we need to make a move," Mia's aunt said. "I think Uncle Jack's getting restless waiting for us,"

Mia nodded, reaching up and taking the hat off before handing it over to you. You shook your head. 

"Nah, you keep it kiddo, I've got hundreds." You give her a smile. 

Mia walked forward, clinging onto you as she buried her head in your chest, you ignored the dull ache that flared up in your chest as you hugged her back, "I'm gonna miss you."

"I'll miss you too, kiddo," You say, lifting one hand to wipe at your eyes. 

"Are you crying?" Mia asked softly. 

"No." You answered, "I've got allergies."

You wait for Mia to let go before you do, you gave her a small smile, "See you later, a'right?" She nodded, quickly wiping her eyes. 

"See you later Texas," 

The door shut quietly behind the two of them and you were enveloped once more in silence.

Whilst everyone was wrapping up the case, you were sitting in a hospital bed, bored out of your skull. With a sigh, you pushed yourself up, sneaking past the nurses and doctors as you made your way outside, wanting some fresh air. 

You sat yourself down opposite the hospital in the grass, letting yourself pluck a blade of grass from the ground, running it through your fingers as you lost yourself in your thoughts. 

You kept your eyes trained on the grass as Hotch sat down next to you. The pair of you sitting in silence for a moment. “Are you alright?”

“‘M fine, sir,” The answer rolls off your tongue. “Nothing to worry about,”

“If you want to get something off your chest, you can always talk to me,” 

“I know, Hotch,” You said, “I just… struggle with the whole talkin’ about how you’re feelin’,”

Hotch nods in understanding, for someone who doesn’t talk about it, you sure do end up giving a lot away. You both sit in silence.

"I know people think I'm stupid," You mumble, staring intently at the blade of grass between your fingers as you spoke, "I know I have that Southern drawl," You exaggerate your accent slightly before continuing, "That I don't exactly talk like y'all. I know some just see me as some redneck, but I can hold my own. I ain't stupid. And I certainly ain't no bigot."

"I know, we all know that." Hotch replies.

"But you didn't." You pointed out before sighing, "Whatever, it doesn't matter..."

"We were concerned because there was no way could have known."

"You could've just trusted me," You said, “I have, in no way, given any of y’all a reason to believe that I am against anyone in that community. And I get it, I do, it just… stings, is all.”

Hotch doesn’t speak, unsure of what to actually say. Because he did jump to conclusions, they all did.

"I think if she didn't have any family I would have adopted her, or at least tried to, anway," Your eyebrows are furrowed, gaze deepening at the blade of grass as you tore it apart in your hands. "But, hey, she's happy, that's the main thing and her aunt seems like a lovely woman."

With that, you push yourself off of the grass, ignoring the ache that shoots through your body. Leaving Hotch sat on the curb with a frown as you limped back into the hospital for one final check-up before your flight.

You wipe your eyes with the back of your hand, “Fuckin’ allergies.”

#cowboy reader #x male reader #x reader #reader #male reader #criminal minds x male reader #criminal minds x reader #emily prentiss #jennifer jareau #aaron hotchner #spencer reid #derek morgan #david rossi #bau x male reader #bau x reader #bau x cowboy reader #criminal minds fanfiction #criminal minds

[nvrsaidiwasinurcloset]

part 4 of flames?? im HOOKED u dont get it we're actual masterminds

I'm sorry it took so long for me to put this out. I'll get to the 5th part this weekend:)

Flames - Ethan Landry x Fem!Reader - Part 4

Part 1, Part 2, Part 3

Summary: You're trying to give Ethan a chance with your daughter, but Chad isn't so trusting.

Contains: Angst, a smidge of fluff, Ethan trying to learn how to be a dad, mentions of mental health.

A/N: Y'all...I'm convinced that some of you can read my mind because I'll think about something I want to write(esp. when it comes to spicy stuff), and then one of the sweet anon's on here will request it. I stg some of the things I've gotten requests for have made me fucking BLUSH.

After Ethan went to bed, you struggled to fall asleep. You still felt a little uneasy about him being in the next room over, and not having a true understanding of what he’d actually be capable of. Finally, the exhaustion kicked in and you drifted off. You woke up a few different times during the night when she started to cry, and Ethan ran in the room ever single time, desperate to help.

Once the sun started to peak through the gap in the curtain, you stirred awake and looked over to see River awake in the bassinet.

“Hey, sweet girl,” you said, scooping her up in your arms. She started to coo, the soft sounds making you smile.

You walked out of your room to the next room over, quietly pushing the door open as you saw Ethan in a deep sleep. You noticed his backpack on the ground in the middle of the floor, and started to think about how he needed laundry done. You reached down to grab it, before quietly sneaking back out of the room.

You went to the nursey to change River, before heading downstairs to play with her for a little bit. Once she fell asleep again, you grabbed his bag again, and went to the laundry room.

You started to pull stuff out of his bag, a few bottles of medication falling to the floor.

“Shit,” you whispered to yourself, reaching down to grab them. You started to look at the medication names and pulled out your phone to google them. One was for anxiety, one was for depression, and one was a really strong anti-psychotic med. It might’ve been wrong to be that nosey, but you needed a better understanding of his mental health.

You sat them down on the counter in the room before starting the laundry. He soon walked downstairs, desperate to find you.

“Hey,” you smiled, your face dropping once you noticed his nervous expression. “What’s wrong?”

“I need my meds,” he panicked, looking around for his bag.

“They’re in here,” you said, gesturing to the laundry room. He saw them all lined up, feeling a little shame as he reached for them.

“Thanks…if I don’t take them when I’m supposed to, I don’t act like myself,” he said, calming a little as he opened the bottles and got a pill from each one.

“Do you need water?” you asked as he shook his head, dry swallowing all three pills at once. “Is there anything I can get for you?”

“I’m okay. You’ve already done so much for me,” he said, as you walked out, him following closely behind you.

You went to the living room, the two of you making small talk when your mom walked through.

“I’m going to work. I’ll be home late tonight, but I sent you some money for pizza or whatever you and your friends want to order tonight,” she said, before looking down to smile at her sleeping granddaughter. “She’s just so precious.”

You sleepily smiled at her, as she grabbed her purse to walk out the front door.

“When should they be here?” Ethan asked, referring to your friends.

“Actually,” you said, pulling out your phone to check the time, “Any minute now.”

He started to get really anxious. He was hoping he’d have a little more time for his meds to kick in before he had to be face to face with more of the people he hurt, especially Chad. He wasn’t sure what to expect, but he was about to find out, as he heard light tapping on the front door.

“It’ll be okay,” you tried to assure him, as you got up to walk towards the door.

“Hey! Where’s that precious little angel?” Chad excitedly asked, turning the corner towards the living room. He stopped in his tracks the second he saw Ethan. The rage that built inside of him for months started to come to the surface as Tara walked in behind him, her eyes going wide. “What the fuck is he doing here?” Chad yelled, walking over to Ethan. He grabbed him by his shirt and pulled him up, so he was face to face with him.

You bolted around the corner, trying to step between the two boys as Chad stared Ethan down.

“Sleeping baby, right there,” you said, gesturing towards River as Chad face softened a little. “I know you’re pissed, but you need to calm down.”

“Yeah, babe. Let’s go outside for a minute,” Tara said, as he let go of Ethan’s shirt.

He listened to Tara, as they started to leave the room. He turned to look at Ethan one more time before he softly spoke. “If you hurt either of them, I’ll fucking kill you.”

Ethan didn’t say anything, he just stood there. He had so many different emotions on his face as he tried to pull it together, once again running through all the steps his psychiatrist drilled into his head before he was released from the hospital.

“You okay?” you asked, once Tara and Chad went outside.

He shook his head as he started to cry. You sat down on the couch and grabbed his hand, pulling him down to sit with you. Your arms wrapped around him as he sobbed into your chest.

“I’m so sorry, for everything,” he cried, “I think I should probably go.”

You pulled away to look at him, “You knew how this could go…Don’t try to run away from us the second you’re making progress.”

He wiped his tears as he looked up at you, “I’m making progress?”

“Yes, Ethan. It’s going to take a lot more work, but you’re already doing such a good job with her. Don’t let anyone else make you feel like you aren’t supposed to be here with me…or be here with her.”

You felt yourself start to tear up as you heard Chad and Tara walk back inside. Ethan intently watched Chad, not knowing what to expect as he sat beside him on the couch.

“Why are you here?” Chad questioned; his voice significantly calmer than before. “You fucked your life up, so you come here to get her to put the pieces back together?”

“Chad, stop,” you warned, as Tara chimed in.

“Just tell him what you need to say, Chad. Don’t be an asshole. He is River’s dad,” she said, looking over to the sleeping baby.

Chad sighed, looking at Ethan, “I don’t fucking trust you, and I don’t like that you’re here. You fucking hurt me, dude. I defended you time and time again whenever you were accused of anything. You know how awful I felt when I found out you were a part of the reason we were fucking terrorized and almost killed?”

The guilt was all over Ethan’s face as he tried to think of the right things to say to apologize, but there weren’t any. He knew he fucked up, and he knew that it was going to take a lot for the people he cared about to even begin to trust him.

“I’m sorry, for everything,” Ethan finally said, as everyone’s eyes were on him. “I tried to stop it, I really did.”

“We know you did,” Tara said, as River started to wake up.

Chad got up and walked over to the bassinet to grab her. She stopped crying the second she was in his arms. Ethan watched the interaction, feeling sick to his stomach. You reached down to grab Ethan’s hand, attempting to comfort him before he had a chance to show the emotion that was building.

“We missed you,” Chad whispered to the baby, as he sat down beside Tara.

You let them bond with her as you sat with Ethan. “You’re still her dad,” you reminded him, as he nodded.

“So, what’s the deal with you two?” Chad asked, noticing Ethan’s hand in yours.

“Oh, um…right now he’s just…trying to make things right,” you said, as his thumb rubbed against your hand. “He wants to be in her life, and I want to give him that opportunity.”

“Do you really think that’s a good idea? He doesn’t know the first thing about her,” Chad said, handing the baby to Tara.

“I’m trying to learn,” Ethan sighed, “I get it that you hate me. You have a good reason to, but I’m doing a lot better than I was.”

“Whatever you say,” Chad sighed, “She’s more forgiving than I am.”

Ethan nodded as you stood up. “I need to go put the laundry in the dryer. Please don’t try to kill him,” you said, walking away.

“Don’t we have to worry about him trying to kill us?” Chad joked, but you turned around, not thinking the joke was very funny.

“He’s working through things, stop intentionally trying to trigger him,” you said, as Chad’s eyes connected with yours.

“Sorry, dude,” he said, as Ethan mumbled “Thanks.”

After Chad and Tara started to get used to Ethan being around, you excused yourself to go shower. You wanted to take Ethan shopping to get anything he needed, and you had to look at least somewhat presentable before you could do that. You even put on a little bit of makeup, hoping to hide the dark circles under your eyes.

You grabbed Ethan’s laundry out of the dryer and took it upstairs. It didn’t take long to fold it because he really didn’t have much. When you went back down the stairs, you got a bottle ready for River, knowing she’d be hungry soon.

Like clockwork, she started to cry as soon as it came out of the warmer.

“Hey, can I borrow my kid?” you asked Chad, as he gently passed her over to you. “Thanks,” you smiled, sitting beside Ethan. “You want to feed her?” you asked, as Ethan nodded.

Chad and Tara nervously watched him, but soon started to relax when they realized how gentle he was being with her. He’d gotten some practice during the feeding sessions in the middle of the night, but he was still terrified when it came to the burping part. He was scared he’d hurt her fragile little body, so he passed her off to you once she was done eating.

“Oh, I almost forgot,” Ethan said, going to the cart that extra baby blankets and clothes, and grabbed a burp cloth.

“Thanks,” you smiled, as he handed it to you. You adjusted her so she was laying on your shoulder, before patting her back. “Do you think you guys could babysit for a little bit?” you asked Chad and Tara.

“Of course,” Tara smiled, “Where are you going?”

“Ethan and I are going out for a little bit to get some things,” you said, as Ethan looked at you, unaware of the plan. “We talked about this last night,” you sighed, as he started to remember the conversation from the night before.

“Yeah, uh, I guess I should go change,” he said, getting up and heading up the stairs.

Once he was out of earshot, Tara started to whisper, “Do you feel safe going somewhere with him by yourself?”

“I’ve been here with him by myself,” you shrugged, as Chad started to shake his head.

“I know you want to give him a chance but is this really what’s best for you and River?” he asked, genuinely concerned for you and your daughter’s wellbeing. “Would you feel comfortable with him watching her by himself? He messed his whole future up.”

“It’ll be a long time before I could trust him alone with her. Fuck, I don’t even fully trust him being here,” you sighed, “But he’s trying to prove himself. He’s been through a lot.”

“You have, too, though,” Tara said, “You went through a pregnancy without him. You had the baby without him.”

“He didn’t know,” you started to defend him, as Chad got irritated.

“How was he supposed to know? He was busy trying to kill people,” he said, “I don’t want you to take this the wrong way, because we’ve been so happy to help…but it’s almost like a slap in the face to see you giving him a chance after we’ve been here for you through it all.”

“Please don’t look at it like that,” you said, your eyes starting to water, “I appreciate everything you guys have done. I appreciate everything that you’ll still do to help me out. If he fucks up, I already told him he doesn’t have anymore chances. Just try to be there for me while I figure this out.”

Chad and Tara both nodded, before you noticed that River was sound asleep laying against you. You swaddled her before putting her in the bassinet, and started to wonder what was taking Ethan so long.

The truth is, he never fully made it up the stairs once he heard everyone start to talk about him. He was silently sobbing as he stood on one of the stairs, not knowing what the best move would be. He could just grab his stuff and jump out the window, or he could keep trying to prove himself.

When he thought back to the conversation after he fully expected Chad to punch him, when you told him that he was making progress, he started to smile through his tears. His meds usually made him feel numb, but being back in your life was the first time he’d started to feel emotions again, and he was determined to prove to you that he was going to be an amazing dad.

#ethan landry #ethan landry x reader

[izukuwus]

Boiling Point 4: Finale - Miguel O'Hara x Reader (NSFW)

First - Prev - M.list - Ao3

A/N: by the power of banana pudding rum we got there. thanks for waiting and please enjoy!

Summary: We reach the part where you get what you want.

Notes: smut. this is the part with actual sex for real. uh biting mentions, blood drawn, etc.

Word Count: 2800

None of this has exactly been how you expected this night to go.

At any turn, you were expecting something else. Not eating sandwiches atop the Empire State building and sipping fountain drinks while you floated, quite frankly thinking you were out of your damn mind and dreaming some truly deranged shit, as Miguel acted exactly like normal in response to having discovered that your sex drive is basically controlled by whether or not he breathes in the same room as you on a given day.

By the time you've nearly finished your drink and near pulling off the lid to crunch the ice, mostly to have something to do with your mouth other than fuck up, Miguel lets out a heavy sigh.

Honestly, you're still stuck on the part where he knows. Clearly he's somewhere miles past you, speaking frankly, as though this is a normal conversation to be having. Just a Spiderman and the Spider belonging to this version of New York, far above the ground. You stare at the stars while he stares at the streets below.

"Are you understanding anything I've said to you? I'm starting to think you're not."

The ice cube cracks in your teeth. You spit it back into your cup to respond. "It's more like I think I'm being punked right now."

"Punked?" he repeats back. You wonder if that's because that's not a thing in Nueva York, or if it's because the idea is so stupid that he can't believe you've put it into the world in the first place. (It is, in fact, a little bit of both.)

You double down, because that is your best quality. "Yeah. Like, tricked? Pranked? You're sitting here having taken me out for chicken sandwiches in response to—hell, I don't think I can make myself say it out loud, but anyways you are Miguel O'Hara and it takes all the work in the world to not think of you by your full name every time because you're just that fucking amazing."

He lets you go on, watches you as you watch the stars. You pause to crunch another ice cube before continuing. "Like, I'm not sorry for thinking you're the hottest thing to walk any Earth. I am sorry you found out, because I can see how that would be uncomfortable to discover, but like. You are hot. I could go into excruciating detail, if you'd like, but I think that's a bit too much, and in case you haven't noticed, I'm trying to be, like, normal?"

"You're not any less normal than anyone else we’ve brought into the multiverse," he says. "I am now completely convinced that you haven't been listening to anything I've said, though."

“I haven’t… not been listening?”

“Okay. Then, what have I been telling you?”

You thoughtfully crunch another ice cube.

“…shit.”

He sighs. “Okay, let’s take it from the top. I was hoping you would figure out you were being an idiot before you sent yourself spiraling directly into sub drop, but that clearly didn’t happen. As fun as it’s been watching you drive yourself insane, this isn’t how I wanted to see you fall apart.”

“…okay.” He’s watching your every movement, and you, in turn, are trying to control each one, down to whatever microexpressions you can. Part of you wants to cry from the embarrassment of it all. But dammit, you are not sitting at the top of this building to cry for once. “So… how did you want to see me fall apart?”

“I can show you.”

Please hold. Buffering.

“Okay!” It comes out a squeak, but this is not a man who has the time to let you cringe, apparently, because you’re suddenly being bodily lifted from your perch, your trash nearly forgotten except your quick thinking to web it to you. Responsible superheroes don’t leave their trash on skyscrapers.

“Limits?” he says as he carries you, so easily for a man only using one hand.

“What?”

“What are your limits? Dirty talk, biting…”

Oh. Your face flares hot. I think you’re finally starting to get it. Good for you. “Um. I don’t… like… assplay?”

He nods, not even looking down at you. That’s fair. He’s a little occupied with the web-swinging right now. Actually, it’s kind of fun to be carried like this, rather than being the one doing all the work. You should find some way to con him into carrying you around like this again sometime.

“I can work with that. Anything else?”

“Um… normally I like degradation, but maybe not right now?”

“Makes sense. Safeword?”

You’ve suddenly forgotten every semblance of a safeword you’ve ever known. Good going. 10/10.

“Pumpkin,” you blurt.

“Pumpkin?”

“Pumpkin.”

“You didn’t just make that up on the spot, did you?”

“Not that you can prove.”

He lets out a soft huff, more felt than heard, and lands on the roof of your building. “Not sure I want your neighbor listening in.”

Ah. Yeah. That… huh.

(You are so fucking eloquent.)

You flash a grin. “Yeah, uh, I think he’s been doing that for a while. I might move, actually. When I can afford it. Do you think this is… better?”

He sighs. “No. But I need a moment.”

“Oh, okay, I can—“

His lips crash down on yours, and fuck it, this clearly isn’t real, so of course you’re going to moan against his lips and kiss him right back. He’s so much bigger than you—all muscles and hard lines and, when he pulls back and you open your eyes, deep red eyes and sharp teeth.

He must like something he sees in the way his eyes roam over you, because he groans and drops his head a bit. “Do you have any idea how difficult it’s been to not think about taking you like this?”

“Like what?” You do your best to sound innocent. It does something, a fact you’re proud to state you know from the way his clawed fingertips suddenly flex into your flesh.

…he is going to completely destroy you.

You, for one, are fully prepared for that outcome.

…probably.

Making out on the rooftop becomes making out in your bedroom becomes Miguel getting you out of your Spider suit in record time. (Maybe you’ll ask him for pointers after this, all things considered.) At least you’re not the only one getting surprised today—when he gets your top half bare and finds your tits bouncing free, not a bra in sight, there’s a growl passing his lips that leaves you shuddering.

“No bra?” His hand hovers over your breasts, as though waiting for permission.

You press your chest forward, right into his waiting hands. “Built into the suit.”

“That’s… dangerous.” His eyes are dark as they fixate on you, on the way your soft curves squish in his hands. “Have you ever worn a bra under the suit?”

You laugh, wrap your arms around his shoulders. “No, sir, I haven’t. You find me a stretchy spandex that doesn’t show every line underneath and then we’ll talk about bras and underwear.”

Without another word, he grabs at the rest of the suit bunched around your waist and yanks down. You yelp as you move with the suit, as you go from “superhero” to “ass-naked” in one fell swoop. That’s just unfair.

Dark eyes search your face, just a moment, just long enough for him to take in wide eyes and flushed cheeks. Whatever he’s looking for, clearly it satisfies him, because his next step is to jerk your hips up and hook your legs over his shoulders.

“So why don’t you tell me a bit about why you thought a contract like that was a good idea?”

You refuse to meet his eyes. Large hands dig into the flesh of your thighs—not painful, not enough to bruise, but enough that you feel the tiniest pricks of his claws threatening to press in.

“Come on, cariño. I wasn’t asking.”

You throw your arms over your face, hide your eyes so you don’t have to look at him when you admit it. “…I kept overheating the motors in my vibrators.”

He startles you with a real, genuine laugh. “Really.”

“Yes!” You jerk to try to face him, which leaves you in a weird half-crunch position. “You’re… a lot, okay? And I’m not, like, constantly constantly thinking about sex, with you or anyone else, but you do shit that gets me started and then I can’t stop and—“

“There you go,” he purrs. “That’s a good girl.”

Your rambling cuts off into a low moan as he buries his face between your thighs at last. His tongue enters your core, his fingers toy with your clit, and he works you up just to the point that you actually contemplate murder when he pulls away.

“Miguel, I can’t keep doing this,” you whine, tears already springing to your eyes in response to yet another denial.

He shushes you, gentle. You do not want gentle.

If we’re being completely honest, if this man does not break you tonight, your body is going to completely atomize itself on the spot.

“Please,” you whine.

He quirks a brow you-ways. Tilts his head. “What are you asking me for?”

“Anything. Need to cum. Please.”

A soft laugh. “You need it?”

“Need it.”

His fingers brush against your core, and you whine out.

“Okay.”

You nearly cry—first at the feeling of his fingers entering you, the promise that this is finally over, you’re finally done breaking toys and breaking yourself just to do something right, now someone else gets to break you—then at how expertly he manages to bring you back to the brim with two thick fingers pumping into your heat.

“There you go. You’re doing so well. So, so well, cariño.”

You smile through your moans, meet his blazing eyes as he works your walls and your clit. You cum hard and fast, writhing around him until he has to put a firm hand down on your stomach to keep you still, and this time, you do cry—from release, from overstimulation, from the fact that you got here and you did it and you did so well.

He doesn’t stop when you stop to catch your breath. The swift removal of his fingers is replaced once again by his mouth, and you cry as he laps up the fluttering remains of your first orgasm in so, so long. A jerk of your hips from the contact has just the barest brush of his fangs teasing against your pussy, just enough to remind you that they’re there and you’re finally, finally getting what you need.

“miguel,” you breathe out in lowercase.

He groans against you, grips your thighs again, and this time he does leave thin red lines behind as he loses himself in your pussy.

The second time you cum, you haven’t quite stopped with the tears from the first. It’s almost everything you’ve dreamed of. You’ve dreamed of some weird shit, though, so basically it’s everything worth dreaming of.

And again he barely stops. He pulls away, yes, when your walls stop spasming around his tongue and your whining drops to low keens, and he repositions himself to fondle your flesh, to smooth a large hand over the plush of your tits and thumb lazily at a single nipple, and when he kisses you, you taste yourself on his lips. But he isn’t done, and he makes quite clear he isn’t done quite quickly.

Lips trail from yours to your neck, and when you reach down in hopes of finding the truth of his cock, he grabs your wrist and nips at your throat.

You do not bother trying to repress the shudder as his teeth graze you.

He sighs, nearly laughs. “You’re seriously turned on by these?” he asks, pulling away to look you in the eye.

“M-mhm. All of you.” Oh dear. You didn’t think you could get stupider, but somewhere between edges, you must have found a shovel and started digging. Poor you. “But I really like teeth. Used to be so into vampires. Werewolves. Anything with big teeth that could wreck me.” Okay, that’s enough. You can stop talking now.

Oh, thank fuck, he took his turn in the conversation. That was getting bad. “Guess you’re lucky, then.”

“So lucky.” You nod.

Another graze of his teeth, and then again he pulls away. Bastard. Like you haven’t been edged enough these past few weeks, through no fault or decision of your own. “You know I can’t bite you, right? Paralytic venom?”

“Like I can move after what you just did to me anyway?”

He raises an eyebrow. “We’ll think about it.”

“I’ve been thinking about it for a long time.”

“I can tell.” He leaves you there on the bed, a bit limp from the double orgasm action, and removes his own suit, slow and careful. “Lucky for you, I wasn’t done yet. That was just the prep work.”

“Prep?”

Ah. He’s big. Yeah, okay, that makes sense. Maybe you should have trained for this. He climbs right back on top of you, cock weighty where it rests on your stomach, and kisses you slowly. Almost loving, if you hadn’t known any better.

When he presses into you, it’s a stretch, big and sore and dragging out yet another whine from you. He shushes you gently, like this is something you’re supposed to be able to just push through, but he does and you do and when he bottoms out you’re honestly surprised he fits.

“There you go. There’s a good girl. Still doing good?”

No one here is completely sure whether you’re whimpering because his cock is finally inside of you or because of the pet name, but we’ll just say it was overstimulation and call it a day. You manage a nod, which has him arching his brow and holding very carefully still.

“I need a verbal answer, [name].”

“Still… still doing good. You’re good.”

“Okay.”

One slow, careful thrust turns into two turns into three turns into another, and you have to cling to him and claw just to find some sort of purchase before very long at all. By the time you’ve lost count, it’s more because you’ve lost your mind than anything. The overstim-sore gives way to a delicious stretch, and you’re sure you’re babbling something, though you’re pretty sure it’s just his name. That’s all that’s in your head, anyway.

What you know is this: his grip and his pace become bruising, at your enthusiastic pleading, and he fucks you until you don’t remember whether you came once or twice or stopped until he was done. You know that he pulls out, that he cums across your stomach in thick ropes. You know that he cleans you with a warm, damp cloth, tends carefully to the cuts on your thighs where his claws dug just a touch too deep. When you can sit up, you blearily take the kit from him and dab at the bits on his back where you managed to draw blood. Marks of your own left on his skin.

“You did good. Better than I was expecting, honestly.”

“You’re rude,” you shoot back with a sleepy-sounding laugh. “And big. And good.”

You’re not sure the etiquette here. In the light of no longer being mid-fuck, you cringe at the dance that socialization inevitably becomes. He’ll go back to his universe, and leave you here, and probably send Lyla to let you know of new assignments, but what do you do now except begrudgingly accept the chocolate he shoves in your mouth and make sure the cuts on his back are disinfected?

“Sorry about your thighs. That’ll sting for a while,” he says as you’re busily trying to memorize the muscles on his back.

“I’ll be fine. Quick healing and all that. Um…”

“I’ll do some work to figure out the venom thing, if you were serious about wanting me to bite you.”

“Of course I’m serious!” You squeak. “Your damned fangs were at least two of my casualties that started this whole thing!”

“Casualties?”

You fluster, turn away. “Yeah. Casualties.” A brief pause where it sinks in. “Wait. So you want to… do this again…?”

“Was that not clear? You’re a bright spot in the multiverse. If you’d just stop throwing yourself into stupid shit…”

“Don’t kid yourself. I’m already perfect.”

“You are. I’m still not biting you without being absolutely sure I won’t kill you in the process.”

“Aw, that’s half the fun!”

He gives you a sharp look, and you cringe.

“Right. Yeah, I get it. Feel free to surprise me when you figure it out, though.”

He pulls you into his arms, and in his warmth you feel yourself finally relax a little bit.

“I think I’ll take you up on that one.”

Tags: @deeplightgarden @idonthaveanameideayet @dusstory @yohoe-hoe @ambientcryptidsounds @roxannarichie @vegas-writing-den @cooch1ecruncher @bluepeanutharmony @instanttragedyfire @thesilenthill @topreice @rhae-blackqueen

If you'd like to be tagged, shoot me a message or an ask, or ask here in the replies, tags, or reblogs and let me know what you'd like to be tagged in (all works, all works specific to a character, all smut works, etc.). If your name appears on this list but is not underlined and you didn't get a notification, please check to make sure that your blog is NOT set to not appear in search results in your blog settings! If you've got that set that way for a particular reason, consider subscribing to the fic on ao3 for an equivalent update notification, as I always crosspost simultaneously! After three unsuccessful tagging attempts, you will be removed from the list.

As always, thanks for reading! <3

#my fics #miguel o'hara x reader #miguel o'hara smut #miguel o'hara/reader #reader inserts

[yelenasdiary]

Different Kind of Love | Drabble - Bottle of Wine

Pairing: CEO! MobBoss! Natasha Romanoff x Assistant! Reader (Platonic)

Summary: Working for Natasha was never easy and being a low-level assistant for the CEO wasn’t where you thought you’d be after working your hardest for 2 years. After catching you in tears on Christmas Eve, Natasha’s cold ways start to warm up.

Language Warning |Mentions of Sexual Assault | Mentions of Stalking | 0.9K | 

Notes: Little drabble between Reader and Nat over a bottle of wine. 

Different Kind of Love Masterlist

"Go on, ask away" Natasha smiled softly as she poured two glasses of white wine. "Oh, I was only joking about that" you replied when she handed you a glass before walking over to the outdoor sofa for a more comfortable setting, "Then I guess I'll ask you questions" Nat chuckled as she looked over at you, "what is it that you really want to do? Career wise" she asked. 

"I never really was set on anything growing up but then I had Dylan and I've read him so many picture story books that one day I just found myself doing little illustrations while he was napping" you smiled softly to yourself.

"So, you'd like to do illustrations for children's books?" 

"I'd like to be an author. I think it would be fun to write a children's book then something for young adults then hopefully move onto something for elderly people" you sipped your wine, the bitter taste making you pull a disgusted expression. "You don't like wine?" Nat smirked, "it's a little bitter, I don't usually drink…. not after Kane" you placed the glass on the table in front of you. Natasha lent forward with her glass in one hand and placing her free hand on your knee, "He won't take Dylan, I promise you I'm going to do everything I can to make sure he never sees a single hair on Dylan ever again" she assures you of your worries by looking deeply into your eyes. 

"He's not going to stop, he never has. I've moved from place to place just to feel safe, I don't want Dylan to grow up losing more and more every time Kane finds us. Dylan doesn't have a lot of friends his own age, I'm so scared to place him into pre-school but I know he needs it but you always hear stories of kids going missing because the teachers weren't completely aware of the family situations and I can't afford to place him into a private pre-school. I don't know what I'd do if Kane picked Dylan up one day" Your eyes filled with tears, Natasha's thumb rubbed gently over your knee. 

"Let me help more, I don't mind. We can put him into a private pre-school and blacklist Kane's name from stepping foot on the property" she offered

"Natasha, you have already done so much for us, and we are so thankful but we can't keep taking your money. You need it, especially if you live in a place like this" you smiled softly trying to politely turn her offer down. 

"Money means nothing and I have more than I'll ever need. I wouldn't be doing this if I didn't think you and Dylan were worth it. I know I'm a bitch sometimes at work and I might over work everybody but seeing you on Christmas Eve softened me a little and I'll be damned if you ever mention that to anybody" Nat chuckled lightly, "you have struggled enough and it's okay to ask for help" she adds. 

You couldn't help but look at the red head who only showed kindness and offered you the best she could but still, you shook your head. "Thank you for everything Natasha but we can't take any more of your money or time. Kane is my worry and if you represent me in court, I will pay you back, every cent" 

"You're not going to pay me; I don't want you too. What am I going to do with that money? You need it much more than I do. Will you please just let me help you, I can convince a judge to put Kane away for a few long time and finally give you something you've been searching for, safety. You and Dylan would never have to move again, you won't ever have to worry about Kane ever again" 

"How? There's no evidence anymore, it's been almost 6 years" you frown slightly, confused as to how any judge would believe your word over Kanes. "Honey, I'm Natasha Romanova, judge's fear me" she smirked before leaning back in her seat taking a sip of her wine, "I won't take no for an answer now, tell me more about this dream career of yours" she smiled softly. 

"It's just that" you reached for your glass not wanting to speak another word about Kane or the worry a court case was building within you, "a dream career" you added before sipping your wine. "Would you show me your work one day?" Natasha asked causing you to chuckle slightly, "wasn't I supposed to ask you questions?" you raised a brow, "didn't you say that was joke?" Natasha laughed before taking another sip of her wine, "go on, ask away" she added. 

"Does being a Lawyer and private detective really get you all this?" you asked, your eyes looking around you both. "Well, some of it, the rest comes more from a family business" the red head replied slightly squinting her eyes. "Would that be the red hour glass the maid had on her keys?" you asked, Natasha nodded slowly, "you saw that?"

"Yeah, the maid dropped her keys, so I picked them up for her…I'm sorry, did I over cross a boundary?" 

"No, don't stress. The family business isn't something I talk about it with anybody, it's uh, too complicated for people to understand"  

"What can be so complicated about it?" you chuckled, "unless you're a family of murderes" you joked. Natasha chuckled lightly along with you before taking another sip of her drink, "more wine?" she asked quickly changing the topic. "Sure, why not" you smiled completely unbothered.

Taglist: @marvelogic | @randomnessbecausewhynot | @blackwidow-3 | @lilsmeaux | 

#natasha romanoff #natasha romanoff x reader #fanfiction #marvel #black widow

[erenxfrieda]

Idk if ur comfy with it but could we maybe get yan!viktor x reader x yan!five BUT it’s poly yanderes? Or if ur not comfy with five/viktor they’re just sharing reader platonically, but they’re still really close.

I just think it makes sense since viktor and five are kind of the two Hargreeves who get along and seem to like each other the best (and there has been some shippy implications esp with Aidan himself stating that he doesn’t view them as entirely platonic)

Viktor is def a v understated Yandere and I think he doesn’t really engage in a lot of Yandere behavior himself asides from maybe some stalking so I think where he shines as a Yandere is his complacency or cooperation with another, more severe Yandere— aka Five

Because Viktor, of course, would never dream of kidnapping you, but if Five is doing it— well, Viktor is never going to go against Five.

Esp since in a scenario with a Yandere Five some of his Yandere-ness probably effects how he interacts with other people he cares about— which is mostly Viktor, so in that sense Viktor is sort of a darling himself.

Viktor can really gain the trust and affection of the darling easily because the darling views Viktor as more of a fellow victim than a perpetrator, even if Viktor is actively cooperating with Five. It can lead to a sort of bad cop/good cop dynamic where Viktor slowly breaks down readers walls and feeds back information to Five.

And Five, who of course loves Viktor as well as reader, isn’t jealous because he wants reader to love Viktor too, and because this will eventually lead to reader learning to love him.

Again, totally fine if it’s platonic, I just want to have them both share darling. Yanderes are a lot scarier when they work together!!!

Yandere!Five x Reader x Yandere!Viktor

interesting request I must say, I really like the idea of Five and Viktor work as a team to get what they want. okay so I want to make a few warnings. I was very interested in your idea, I like it, but I want to add something from myself. I hope you don't mind? great, so Five&Reader& Viktor here are the same age (physically). I'm not the best with adding warnings but I will try to make them very accurate.

Viktor, Five and Reader in their 20s.

warnings: yandere/dark themes, kidnaping, some Five x Viktor mentions(?), really sweet Viktor but he gets intimidating in one part, really scary guy Five, angst, no happy ending (for reader at least), mention of pills/drugs, light references to past traumas, everything here is done against reader`s will, controlling Five, Five can be abusive towards reader.

I don't know how you managed to get the attention of these two...But good luck.

Relationships with Five and Viktor are like a rollercoaster ride. Today, these two can be such a sweethearts with you and tomorrow, Five can find any reason just so you can be punished, while Viktor will try his best to convince him not to do this.

You quickly shook your head, refusing the food Five offered to you. He sat across from you, taking a few pieces of food on fork before presenting it to you. You kept your mouth shut, holding on tightly to the edge of the table in an attempt to push back as far away from it as possible before Five grabbed your hand, holding you tightly in your seat.

“Come on, I've been cooking this damn food since morning, have a little respect-” he frowns, pressing the fork closer to your lips, but you were stubborn and only whimpered softly. 

Viktor was on your other side, holding a plate of food, helping 5 to feed you. He notices Five's eye twitching in irritation and Vik tried to lighten up the mood. 

“Please, darling, have a bite, it's really delicious,” Viktor smiles sweetly, hoping you'll listen, but instead you ignore him, pushing Five's hand away from you. 

Viktor twitches slightly in surprise and his attention is quickly focused on Number Five, waiting for his reaction. A small sigh comes from Five and he closes his eyes for a moment, mentally counting to 10. 

“Well that was pretty rude,” he says surprisingly calmly, until he suddenly grabs your arm, dragging you out of the room.

Viktor quickly gets up right behind you, clearly nervous but still trying to stop 5 from doing what he's about to do. He stands in front of Five, blocking his path, which causes a disapproving reaction from the other man. 

“Stay out of this,” he says sternly, narrowing his eyes. 

“Five, stop, you're hurting them,” Viktor shakes his head, standing still and Five almost rolls his eyes at this behavior, obviously not happy with the fact that situation already took for them longer than it has to be. 

Blink, and Five, still dragging you with himself, now appears a few steps away from Viktor. 7 turns around immediately, looking offended and about to protest again, until Five interrupts him, pushing you into the room and locking you up. After a moment, he turns around, walking past Viktor. 

“I did what I had to,” 5 patted him gently on the shoulder, sighing tiredly. “Come on, Vik, let's have a drink.”

I actually agree with what you say that Viktor is too gentle and kind to you, he is partly the hostage of this situation, but if you really piss off Viktor by acting like Leonard, then oh, poor you. Viktor won't kill you, no, but this man is unpredictable. He can accidentally hurt you, for example, like with Allison, or he will might try to act intimidating as with Marcus. Trust me, Viktor is not as innocent as you might think.

If you make Viktor angry, it will be extremely difficult for you to calm him down. It can only stop in two cases. 1) You will be so scared that you will find protection in hands of Number Five. 2) Viktor hurt you and only then he realize how far he has gone.

Five will be very surprised by your behavior, given that before the roles were reversed, when Five was angry at you, you always hid behind Viktor`s back. But right now...Well, if you deserve punishment - Five won`t save you.

You're shaking like a leaf, hands holding on dear life at man's jacket, as if you'd probably die if you let go. Your breathing is unstable and you try to make your figure as small as possible, wanted to hide and become invisible. Tears form in your eyes and Five at first frowns, raising an eyebrow at your behavior. 

“What did you do this time?” he asks, tilting his head. 

You swallow hard before telling the reason for your fight with Viktor. Five remains silent for a while as he just looks at you, listening to the whole story, then he sighs heavily, clearly tired. Five wanted to spend this day without any troubles, rest and relax, and not become a third party in conflict. 

“Your lucky that I love you too much,” he grumbles, putting his hand on your head and gently, almost reassuringly petting you. 

You nod and hold onto him tighter when you hear footsteps outside the door before Viktor enters. His face doesn't show anger, more like disappointment that you see some kind of monster in him. Viktor is not a bad guy, he just wants to talk. He's sorry if you were afraid of his outburst, he didn't want to hurt you, but you should understand him too, you should have learned all the rules a long time ago after all this time you spent with them. Viktor's eyes widen slightly as he sees you trembling and almost crying in Five's arms and it hurts him so much to see that, knowing that he's the reason of it. His attention then shifts to Five, who looked like he was expecting an explanation from his expression.

“I'm really sorry-” Viktor says, taking a step towards you and your reaction was to instantly hide behind Number Five with your head down. 

Words stuck in Viktor's throat and he doesn't know what to say at all, just looks at Five, begging for help with this. It's so unfair, he thinks, that once again people don't trust him and Viktor's heart hurts, like he's back in cage that Reginald built for him. Five placed a hand on your shoulder, gently pushing you forward so you could get closer to Viktor and you whimpered softly, resisting weakly. Eventually, you are back next to him and you notice 5 leaning slightly towards you.

“Come on, give him a second chance, honey,” he says calmly, but it sounds more like a demand than a request. 

Knowing Five, you couldn't say no to him, because dealing with two angry kidnappers meant twice as much trouble, so you finally looked at Viktor, who was waiting for your decision. You hesitantly took a few steps towards him and wrapped your arms around his waist, which causes a sigh of relief from V. Viktor hugs you back, resting his chin on your shoulder as he smiled slightly at Five, silently thanking him for his help.

But I have another little scenario, but it's not really nice and happy for you. As I said, Five may not help you if you beg him for it. You can cry into his chest, promise him that now you will be obedient, but he will only shake his head, not changing his mind about the situation in any way. He pats you on the head and goes back to his business, like reading some newspaper or drinking coffee, looking calm and relaxed, despite the fact that you are ready to burst into tears right in front of him. “You know the rules, sweetheart,” he says without looking up from his reading. “But I am not your helper in this, here you are on your own.”

As for the rules, I think it would be something like: “don't mention Reginald Hargreeves in this house”, “talk about Delores either well or don`t mention here at all”, “don't talk about Leonard” and most importantly “respect the past traumas of 5 and 7". I think some of these points would have been made by either Viktor or Five, but for example Viktor would tell you about Delores and Five would tell you about incident with Leonard. The rest of the rules you could come up with yourself, given that it's not so hard to guess by noticing their reaction, so you have adapted to this and understand when it needs to be silent.

Viktor and Five get along very well and you can tell by the way they treat each other. You may be some random person that the two fell in love with, and you probably don't know much about the Hargreeves childhood, other than that they were members of the Umbrella Academy and were bought by Reginald, who was also a pretty shitty person at all when it came to kids. When you hurt 5 or 7, with your words, Five will be clearly angry, he might punish you if you did something really bad, but at some point he will stop and just leave you, coming to Viktor to calm down and talk about it. Viktor often acts as the one who helps you and 5 make up and you should be very grateful that in your life, there is Viktor, otherwise everything would be worse.

I love writing about 5 as someone with anger control issues, but that's kind of not true. Five is pretty good at it, he can stay sane and cold when he needs to. He is patient with Viktor and doesn't snap back when Viktor gets stubborn and doesn't listen to him. He tolerates when Luther or Allison accuse him of being the cause of all the trouble. And now you are part of the Number Five`s family and he is ready to do anything for you, but know that each person has his own limits.

If you're part of the Hargreeves too, then I imagine you can be very close at 5 and 7 since childhood. You may be the second only person in Viktor's life who made his time at the Academy a little brighter. For Five, you can play the same role as Viktor , but unlike Viktor, your abilities are not kept in secret, you are strong and can stand up for yourself and for Viktor too in case of emergency, so Five, before, didn`t saw you as weak and fragile, therefore less thought about the fact that you need his protection. I see 5 as a child as the current Sparrow Ben, hungry for praise and recognition but more rebellious than submissive, 5 is really motivated to get what he wants. 5 spent most of his time at the Academy practicing trying to get better, his room is empty unlike yours or Viktor's, but I believe you and Viktor would fix that. As you get older and the two work together, 5 will begin to see your abilities as a hindrance, since obviously you'll use them to harm Viktor or Five, worse yet, your abilities can be dangerous for you as well. It's honestly hard to imagine what Five would do in this case, he doesn't want to use the same pills that Reginald was giving Viktor, it's a traumatic experience for Viktor and he doesn't want to make him go through the same thing twice, but Five used to be in the role of bad guy when he just wants to save his loved ones. Viktor also doesn't want to see you locked up, you don't deserve it, you remind him of his young self, in the same gray soundproof cage. This seriously hurts him. But Five knows that he need to be the one who makes the toughest decisions. Five believes that Viktor will forgive him, just as you forgive him. Not like you  have any other choice.

If Five notices that Viktor can become a serious problem, like how soft he becomes towards you, practically a few steps away to help you escape, then 5 will have to warn him. You will probably feel a little sorry for Viktor, well, he is also guilty, he is one of the reason why you in this situation, but if you choose between 5 and 7, then you would with no doubt choose 7, because you are more likely to get along with him. Seeing that Viktor and you are in a similar situation makes you warm up to him and it`s on hand for this two.

Viktor rubs his eyes, still half asleep as he walks into the kitchen. He smells  something delicious and it makes him smile slightly as he opens the door, just to find Five preparing breakfast.

“You're pretty early today, Five,” Viktor says, moving closer to Five to make some coffee. 

“Someone has to look after your lazy asses,” Five replies sarcastically as he continues to chop up the food.

This comment makes Viktor chuckle softly and take a cup of coffee and sit down at the table, silently watching Five. The silence between the two was pleasant and calm, without making it uncomfortable. Viktor relaxes in his seat and wonders how the day will go. You've been so nice lately and it made Viktor smile shyly to himself just by remembering it. It was still hard for you to trust 5 and Viktor tried so hard that you could love Five as much as he did. When Five was busy with work, Viktor would spend all his free time with you, talking about different things, until at one point the dialogue would turn to the fact that Viktor mentioned how hard 5 works for you, that he saved the world twice in order to be able to live peaceful life together. Viktor blinks several times, focusing again on Five, who is now carefully grinding the pill into a powder, then pouring it onto the plate of food. 

“Five, please don't tell me it is…” Viktor freezes in place in disbelief. 

“I`m not going to lie to you, but it is,” Five nods, still focused on work. “And it's different. This one will actually help this time.”

Viktor looks at Five with shock, right now he feels a lot of emotions and it`s makes him struggle not to break. He feels angry when he finds out that 5 kept it in secret from him, that he is doing this to you, then he feels a slight fear, afraid that one day, Five will try to use it on Viktor himself. He feels so bad, as if there is not enough air in his chest, and noticing Viktor's suspicious silence, Five finally approaches him, placing a plate in front of 7, he puts his hands on Viktor's shoulders, leaning down slightly. 

“It'll be all right, I promise, leave the hardest part to me,” 5 smiles, trying to calm the other man in front of him. “Now why don’t you take this plate and wake our little sleepyhead?”

#yandere tua #tua x reader #yandere x reader #five hargreaves x reader #yandere five hargreeves #yandere five hargreeves x reader #five hargreeves #umbrella academy x reader #yandere umbrella academy #tua imagine #yandere number five #number five x reader #yandere viktor hargreeves #viktor hargreeves x reader #tw yandere

[aita-blorbos]

AITA for wanting to keep my best friend safe?

Okay so this is a long story, so I'll summarize the beginning of it. Basically me (M, 10) and my best friend F (F, 5) were in a dangerous place so we had to run away to somewhere where neither of us would be in danger. That place didn't end up working out, so we ended up moving to an asylum instead. Only problem is, F didn't actually have anything "wrong" with her, so I had her do something to look insane so they'd be convinced. That ended up working, so we've been able to stay there for quite some time now. Eventually, the object I was tied to (oh yeah, I'm a ghost by the way, forgot to mention that) found its way back to us, so now everything was perfect.

Or at least, I THOUGHT it was, but something was kind of off. Every time F would show someone the object I was tied to (it was a handheld game system, if that matters), they would be able to see me. My real form is pretty terrifying to say the least, so they'd get freaked out and something bad would happen to them because of it. It didn't really matter to me, though, because F was all I needed, but she seemed kinda down about that whole thing despite still having me.

Anyway, things are kind of up and down until N (F, 23) shows up. N doesn't even work here, she's just some reporter getting all up in our business. She gets assigned by one of the higher-ups to look after F, and in exchange, she gets to interview her about stuff. Sounds harmless, right? Well, they end up getting along really well, almost too much so. Maybe to the point where she almost feels like a mother to her. The worst part is, she REFUSES to be shown the game system, so she's convinced for a full 4 days that I'm just some imaginary friend of hers. F seems really happy ever since she came around, though, so I can't bring myself to tell her how I really feel about N.

I spend that time trying my hardest to convince N I exist, but she's just so fucking DENSE. She won't believe in me, no matter how many signs I give her. So I decided to MAKE her believe in me.

That night, one of the kids dies in his sleep, so the next morning I make a little show of destroying his corpse in front of N. I know that sounds bad, but I literally had no other choice, and TECHNICALLY I never killed anyone. I just made N think I did for an important reason that will come later. Anyway, it works, and she with everyone else runs away, leaving me and F in our new home together. The problem is, the very next day, N COMES BACK and practically DRAGS F out of the building. I try to stop her, but I can’t. She smashes my game system against the side of the building and drives off with her. (Somehow I'm still here, and that might be because my friendship with F became stronger than my ties with the game.)

I manage to hang onto the car long enough to follow the two of them back to her place. At this point, I've had enough of people like N getting into our business thinking they can "save" F from her situation. That's what she has me for. We don't need anyone else. So I make N write it all down: her experiences there, and with me. This is why I had her think I killed people, so she'd warn everyone about the "monster" I am, and they'd know to stay away from me and F.

It's really bittersweet, because on one hand, the time I spent with F was the best time I'd ever spent. With the little I know about myself when I was alive, I know I never felt this fulfilled until I met her. We had so much fun together. But as the time passed, F became so sad. When N showed up, it was like she WANTED her to drag her away from that place. With all the stuff I did for the sake of keeping her out of harm's way, I can't help but feel like an asshole. Was what I did in the end worth it, or am I too far gone?

#aita #am i the asshole #unreality #child death #child death mention

[doxolove]

I guess I do one of these every year on Tumblr since it's okay to yap behind a read more, but here's a review of my 2023. (tw: mental health, death mention)

I honestly don't know where this year went. I spent a good portion of it in crippling mental pain which was a wakeup call in a lot of ways. I went to therapy, I was serious about a self-help journey and freed myself from a tremendous amount of negativity. I learned to put value into my own needs, which has been a new concept as a whole. Codependency was ruining my life and it fucked up it's good share of connections along the way– I was finally sick of it.

I lost a lot of connections and people in my life, circumstantial or not. My grandmother also passed away and it brought in a whole new avenue to grieve. It's never been easy to say goodbye to people, I've let too many in the past long live their stay. I let people I was convinced cared for me unconditionally walk all over me on purpose. I gave too much of myself willingly to any and everyone I have met–

And now I'm finally feeling those repercussions. I'm mentally checked out more than ever, I can't focus on one thing for too long. I had to stop taking artwork commissions, I'm deeply struggling with my craft. I am incapable of letting someone in too close or even give them the appropriate energy, I'm overwhelmed with a lingering trauma I wish would go away already.

Even through all of that, I'm allowing myself to feel disappointed in others. The lack of communication is astounding me, how anyone would just let a decade+ friendship end because they couldn't conjure the strength to talk to me– or outside input influenced them, I just don't know. I'm disappointed in the people I had what seemed like healthy and chill relationships with just die because there was no urge to communicate (or again, most likely influenced)... It's just really upsetting. I don't know what made someone that assured me they had no issues with me start being a toxic asshole any time I was matched against them in pvp? It's all baffling. I wish it was easier to just ask what went wrong -- but I know sometimes it's nothing particularly logical. It just happens.

They all still haunt me, but I have learned most people don't actually want lasting or meaningful relationships and it was hard to come to terms with that. My science and fact-driven mind always wants to know why– but sometimes (most of the time) I'll never get to know that answer.

I still feel really broken, I'm not going to lie. I don't know how long I'm going to feel like this– but I've gained a newer appreciation for the people that are still in my life and understand that my social battery has deteriorated. I'm still learning how much energy to give to new people, but I am tired of being afraid to be social. The right ones are out there and it's not fair I rob myself of the chance of meeting more.

In summary, be kind to yourself going into 2024. You can try as many times as you need to, just go at your own pace. Surround yourself with individuals who reciprocate, communicate often. Not everything works out, and that's fine. I can only hope this next fever dream of a year will be a little better.

#2023 review #tw: mental health #tw: death mention #we try again next year

[author-a-holmes]

okay, you've convinced me to try sprinting lol! I always beat myself up for procrastinating on writing until it's too late in the day and then hating that I can't write for an extended period bc when I actually find the focus/motivation to write it's like 11PM. I think I (partly) procrastinate bc I *know* earlier in the evening I'll be too distracted by other stuff (texts, having to make dinner, wanting to watch a show or other stuff etc) to properly write. But if I only do it in bursts...it may work. Is there a specific app or anything you use or is really just set a timer on your phone and go?

That's exciting! I love watching writers try out new things!

I personally use the "Sprinto Bot" on Discord if you have your own server you can add it to, but literally any App or Clock can work for you. Just set the timer for 15, 20, or 25 minutes and just write. And then give yourself a break before doing another one, or call it done for the day if you just want to slide in something, yah know.

(25 minutes working, 5 minute break, is known as the Pomodoro Method, but as I mentioned in the other post I find 25 minutes too long, I start picking up my phone and getting side tracked. On bad days I also find 5 minutes too short a break. So it might take a few tries until you find a specific number combination that works for you)

Ultimately though, it may not work for you at all, but everyone I've talked into trying sprinting has at least found something from it to incorporate into their own specific writing toolset <3

I'm a night owl too, because of earlier in the day distractions, but if I start at 11pm I can usually run a sprint from 11:05-11:25, then have a 10 minute break, and then set another sprint to run between 11:35-11:55. Which nets me 40 minutes of writing a night. And sometimes that's 200 words, sometimes it's 500. On really, really, good nights I can get as many as 900 words in 2 sprints, but I've not been doing that well recently.

Ultimately the number doesn't matter all that much, it's just a way for me to talk myself into doing something. It used to be that I'd go "Urgh, I've only got an hour left? I can't settle into writing and get a good chunk done in that time, I'll leave it until tomorrow" and weeks would go by like that. Literal months Rofl

But if I've got twenty minutes, I can set a timer and do 200 words. It's progress, and I'll take any forward momentum when I'm neck deep in the second act of a manuscript lol!

#Writing #Writing Techniques #Friends #Mutuals #Inkovert #Sprinting #Pomodoro Method #Sprinto Bot #Sprint Writing #20 Minute Sprints #15 Minute Sprints #25 Minute Sprints #Mental Health #Attention Span #Short Bursts of Productivity #Productivity #Writing Community #Writeblr #Writeblr Community #Ari Speaks #Arista Speaks

[bookofbrokencandles]

Yes, STILL sick.

Guys... I feel like I'm losing my mind. Mornings are hard, I'm still barely managing a full sleep, but then the middle of the day is okay and I start thinking oh I'm getting better I can only go up from here

And then suddenly I go back to coughing up a lung, with no relief cuz there's nothing to come out of my lungs anymore. And my throat is so. Fucking. Dry. Which makes me COUGH.

My throat is always dry. Every moment of the day. I'm drinking everything I can get my hands on. I'm eating cough drops. Cough syrup. Popsicles. I'm trying all the tips I looked up to deal with a dry throat while sick, all of it. And nothing works, my throat is still dry!!!! The curse is unending!!!!!!!

Sorry, I just needed to vent about it. I can't IRL because my voice is GONE and it refuses to come back. Probably because my throat is DRY.

I feel like I'm stuck in purgatory. My brain actually has a really bad habit of convincing itself every uncomfortable state I'm in that lasts a little too long will never, ever end and I will be stuck like this forever. I know it can't last forever, but knowing that doesn't make the feeling go away. It got especially bad in 2020, if anyone knows about the Oregon wildfires in September. It was a really traumatizing time for me, in ways I won't get into because I didn't even intend to talk about this right now, but during those fires, every time I told myself it'll end eventually, it got worse and it did not end. Obviously it's over now and I'm okay, but that experience really shook my ability to be optimistic when things get hard.

Anyway, I'm just uncomfortable and I'm tired of feeling sick and I really just want this to be over. I want to sleep. It's such a cruel joke that the best way to get better is to sleep, but I can't sleep because laying down triggers my cough. I'm so bored of this.

Sorry, I didn't mean to vent so much, but it just kind of came out once I started typing. I actually started this wanting to mention I've been making teeny tiny amounts of progress in the few moments of relief I have. It's not much, but it's not nothing either.

#sorry if i messed anything up while typing #im on my phone #and it's still new enough to not really know how i talk #I'm going to bed #with my fingers crossed #and before anyone suggests a doctor #i live in America lol #and i make $200 on a GOOD week #i have not been having good weeks this month

[words-after-midnight]

@cwritesfiction made this Share an Excerpt post the other day and I immediately thought of this segment from a truly ridiculous additional/deleted scene to Life in Black and White, which involves Jeff convincing Gabriel to steal a parasol from an old lady's balcony at two in the morning in January (2002). The segment I'm sharing takes place in the basement of Jeff's house. Contextual note: Jimmy is the owner of their favorite diner, who Jeff tells everyone has dementia even though he does not.

cw: suggestive, sexual content (mentioned/implied; minors DNI)

It’s just past one in the morning, and we’re sitting in the basement listening to Appetite for Destruction. Jeff’s lounging on one of the cinema chairs, face deadpan, staring up at the ceiling. I’m trying to decide if I want to do something else or just give up and go to bed already. I’ve been procrastinating on working on an assignment for one of my classes for four hours. It’s kind of late now.

Suddenly, as I’m gazing into the TV from my spot on the couch, lost in no specific thought in particular, I’m snapped back to reality by Jeff plopping down onto the couch beside me. I didn’t even hear him get up. There’s a weird look on his face - halfway between intense focus and like he’s trying not to laugh.

“What’s up?” I ask, somewhat alarmed.

In a fluid gesture, he grabs the large bottle of vodka that’s been hanging out on the coffee table since I brought it down here a few days ago. Hard to believe considering my complicated relationship with this particular liquid these days, but it’s still over three quarters full. He holds the bottle in both hands in his lap, looking down at it musingly, considering it for a moment. Then, he looks back up at me and asks me casually, "What if I drank this whole thing and gave myself alcohol poisoning?"

Well, that’s not what I was expecting, but okay. "I'd probably recommend not doing that," I tell him.

"I'll take that under advisement," he says, grinning - smugly - as he uncaps the bottle. Throws the cap carelessly to the floor. Watches it fall. "Okay, advisement over. I've just decided… I'm going to chug this whole thing right now unless you go upstairs and tell Daphne."

I frown, confused. "What do you mean, tell Daphne? Tell Daphne what?"

He just smiles. Gives me a brief, suggestive eyebrow raise. 

My heart drops into my stomach. "Oh, fuck no,” I exclaim. “Are you high?"

He chuckles. "I'm dead serious. Oh, yes. Go on. Go upstairs and tell her about all the times you've been down here sucking my dick while she was in her room two floors up. Otherwise I’m drinking this entire thing right here and now."

I imagine I must look a bit like a baby deer in a transport truck's headlights right now. I just look at him, dumbfounded. "I -"

He cuts me off. Smacks my arm with gusto, eyes wide, grinning widely, like he's just had the best idea since the lightbulb. "No, no, wait, even better - tell her about the time you fucked me in a cabin not two hundred feet from the tent she was sleeping in."

I can’t tell for sure because I feel like the connection between my brain and my body is currently being severed, but if I had to guess, I’d say I’m probably sweating like a malfunctioning fire hydrant at the moment. I just stare at him. "For fuck sakes… what is wrong with you?” I say practically under my breath, before adding at a higher volume, “Are you good?"

He ignores me, because unfortunately, he isn’t fucking done. "Mm, yeah, I'm sure she'd love to know all about how hard you made me come that night with my legs wrapped around your -"

At this point, I've all but lunged forward, smacking a hand onto his mouth in a desperate attempt to make him shut the fuck up. He's trying to fucking kill me. I'm convinced. "Stop. I swear to God."

He makes eye contact with me as he grabs my hand with both of his and half-seriously bites it before yanking it sharply away from his face. "What?" he says teasingly. "Don't tell me you already forgot..."

Hah. Haha. Very funny. Someone give the man an award for outstanding performance in comedy. I can’t quite keep the hint of a smile from my face. "You may have convinced Jimmy he has Alzheimer's, but I certainly don't."

He laughs. Shrugs. "Well. Anyway. If you ever want a repeat of that, you'd better make sure I don't drink all of this, hmm?"

I’m just sitting here, looking at him, completely baffled. I’m honestly just at a loss. "Seriously, what the fuck is wrong with you right now?"

He lazily points to the ceiling. "Go on. Go tell her."

"Are you for -"

He snaps his fingers. "Wait, actually, I changed my mind. You have two options."

Oh no. I know what he's going to say before he even opens his mouth again. "No," I say firmly.

"I want Linda Peacock's parasol."

"No."

"Come on."

"I'm not stealing that fucking parasol. Go get it yourself if you want it so bad."

The look on his face right now is just cruel. Feigning consideration for a moment, he says, "Hmm… no. I want it just bad enough to make you do it for me. Which you will."

"Oh yeah? How? Because I'll tell you right now, it's going to take a lot more than you pinky swearing not to give yourself alcohol poisoning." I reach out, grabbing the neck of the bottle and trying to pull it from his grasp, but he tightens his grip. Some of the vodka swishes out, falling into his lap. He frowns, then grins at me intently. 

"I'll let you sleep in my room," he says. 

Deliberately, I look down at the vodka so that his eyes don’t checkmate me right now. Okay. I see how it is. He's bringing out the big guns to this fistfight. Unluckily for him, I know an obvious bluff when I hear one. "Yeah, right."

"I mean it."

"Uh huh," I snap back, sarcastically. "I'm not stealing Linda's parasol. Get over it."

He manages to draw my gaze to his own again as he takes a couple of hearty swigs from the bottle. Then, he sets it firmly on the table, lies back on the couch with his head in my lap, one arm draped lazily overhead and the other across his stomach. He looks directly up at me, and says, "You're going to go get that parasol, because when you get back, I'll let you do whatever you want to me."

Ten minutes later we're in the front yard. He's pacing playfully in a circle around me, grinning victoriously, swinging the bottle around in his hand. He points intently to the apartment building two doors down. Cackles as he takes a swig. "Go on, then. Do it. Better hurry up, or I'll have finished this by the time you get back…"

I start walking across the lawn and hear him whistling gleefully behind me. Sounds like he’s having the time of his damn life out here. I sure hope he’s fucking enjoying himself. He can gloat as much as he wants. I’m going to get that goddamn parasol and then I’m coming back here and wiping that smug fucking look right off his face.

#snippet #libaw #libaw extras #writing #trying to decide if this makes the top ten most outlandish things jeff has done list but tbh probably not #minors dni

[gabbagepatch]

Anxiety Everywhere All at Once 3-8-2024

My body feels like a beehive, full of wasps that sting randomly and an incessant buzzing I can't shake no matter what. It's a special kind of uncomfortable, knowing nothing is wrong yet unable to get my body to believe me.

I've been to the ER twice and lost ten pounds in the last week and a half. Getting norovirus while dealing with intense health anxiety was not a good mix. I'm feeling much better than I was this time last week, but it kind of feels like one thing just replaced another.

I followed up the ER visits with my PCP, whom I adore, and he was absolutely perfect. He listened and took me seriously, and promised that he will investigate all explanations of these weird symptoms. I've been checking my blood pressure and heart rate whenever I start having symptoms, per doctor's orders. They've all been normal, which is a huge relief. The relief doesn't last very long though, and that's the frustrating thing. I've empirically proven that my body is working well time and time again and yet I feel awful and my mind is convinced something, anything must be wrong.

Not to mention the vestibular disorder symptoms, which are not improving and are still in both ears. I'm having more headaches and more ear pressure, I'm so frustrated.

This is a very rough season in my life, there is no escape from the stressors that brought on this anxiety--I must learn to cope. I'm trying, what is finally gonna stick? I took hydroxyzine to help my anxiety last night, instead I had a panic attack because it began to sedate me. I still have to call my PCP to adjust the dosage, haven't gotten to it today.

I've dealt with anxiety before, since middle school. I don't remember it feeling like this. I'm trying not to get all doom-and-gloom with myself but goddamn, can I just relax? Tonight I'm going to take a conservative amount of an edible and see if that's the thing that can finally quiet the buzzing. Or will I have another panic attack? I think it's worth a shot regardless. I'd do anything for a magic pill that could take this burden away.

That's what I've been praying for, begging God to take away whatever this is. I know I probably have Meniere's disease, I can handle that. I can seek accommodations, manage my symptoms, I can do it. I feel like I can't deal with this anxiety though, I just want to relax. To sit down and feel comfortable, so not have random pains in my chest throughout the day, to lay down at night and not have to talk myself down from a panic.

Of course, despite my venting I am "okay". I have loving family, a therapy appointment next week, a responsive provider who's dedicated to helping me manage whatever is going on. I'm okay. But I'm suffering, and I wish I wasn't.

I repeat my blessings every night, before bed. My financial stability, my support system, my opportunities, my food, my water, my lovely parents, my niece, my nephew, I am rich in blessings and I have to remind myself of that before I lay my head down. I am okay. I am okay. I am okay.

Hopefully soon my body will believe it ❤️‍🩹

#disability #disabled #hearing impaired #meniere's disease #vestibular disorder #vent #blog #life update #anxitey #mental health #health anxiety #chronically ill #chronic illness

[paimonial-rage]

following the wind I - kazuha

synopsis: in which a childhood friend asks Kazuha to follow him on his travels. this is his response. (takes place a year and a half before the vision hunt decree)

ship: kaedehara kazuha x reader

extra: based off of this post

Dear First,

I apologize for taking so long to reply. I've spent the last few months traveling within Yashiori Island. The constant rain has made it difficult to keep anything dry, much less the papers I use to write you. With the trouble that's been brewing here, the postal service has been limited as well. But even with my excuses, I imagine you still must be rather upset with me. I apologize, but imagining your constant pout has kept my spirits up despite the gloomy weather. Are you doing well? What about your mother? The cold nights here have had me longing for her miso soup and baked fish. I hope to try it again soon.

In regards to your last letter, I must admit I was rather troubled upon reading it. After all these years, you still wish to join me in my travels. I’ve told you this before, but while exploring Inazuma is beautiful, it is dangerous and difficult as well. Travel is strenuous. You know not of when your next meal will be nor where you will lie your head for the night. Keeping an eye out for mischievous tanuki and kitsune is something not easily learned, and the ronin that roam the lands are more skilled than you’ve faced before. The stories I tell on my visits may seem exciting, but more often than not, I’m simply trying my best to survive day to day.

You dislike when I mention this, but your mother worries very much for you. Moving away from our home town was not easy for her. She doesn't have your father anymore, so your presence means more to her than you'll ever know. If you choose to leave Inazuma City, it will be your decision, but I would never be able to show my face to auntie if I was the cause of it.

I know you worry for me. I still remember hearing you cry the night your mother took me in after my father passed. Every time I visit, you try to hide how much work you put into making sure I'm comfortable and satisfied. It's endearing how hard you try to make me stay. I must admit that at times, it almost convinces me because I know when I announce I'll be leaving again, the expression I dread the most comes to your face. But please know that while I may be traveling by myself, I am never truly alone. There are many extraordinary people I've met along the way. I know if I ever need it, they would immediately draw their swords and come to my aid. Every place I've visited on my journeys I've left seeds of friendship to grow. So you need not keep worrying for me. I will be okay.

After I finish my obligations here on Yashiori Island, I'll be making my way west to Kannazuka. Is there anything you'd like from there? I know auntie enjoys flowers, so I'll bring a pressed dendrobium for her. Anyway, I will end this letter here. Please keep safe and I hope to visit you both soon.

Yours truly,

Kaedehara Kazuha

#genshin impact #genshin impact x reader #my writing #kaedehara kazuha #kaedehara kazuha x reader #kazuha x reader #genshin kazuha #genshin kazuha x reader #in which kazuha tells you no through methods such as fear tactics guilt tripping and reassurance #next installment will actually be half letter/half story #taking place the night he flees #requests open! #genshin x reader

[running-in-the-dark]

I've got more to say on that post (tw I'm insane I don't know what to tag this as its just. mental illness man idk.)

I'm really, really glad that other people apparently really don't know what it's like to feel like that. like you're not allowed to think certain things or that thinking them makes you bad.

because fuck I wish that was me.

I find it almost impossible to talk about this but I'm trying because I've found it's really the only thing that helps a little bit - and it feels like literal torture, like. I am having to actively fight every instinct in my head to be able to type any of it.

but. just. man I just can't. sometimes I can do it, but sometimes it's like now and I get so panicked about it that all the words just fucking disappear. literally can't talk about it.

okay, I'll try a different way. so. I get extremely obsessed with fictional characters (which you know if you've ever looked at this blog because duh). obviously that means I think about them. a lot. all the time really. and it's. it is really really hard, honestly. just like. imagine having to basically check every. little. thought. to see if there's anything there that could make you a bad person.

again, can't go into any more detail because My Brain (probably should stop saying that, I guess it's like, part of the ocd tendencies I have or whatever) won't fucking let me.

so, I'm trying to work on that, and for some reason I'm doing that by writing it down instead. because then I have like, the option to go back and look at it and be like actually this is probably fine. not horrible, not the worst thing anyone has ever thought, and even if it was - no one but me is ever going to see this, so why should it even matter?

but more than anything it's like. shown me how fucking insane that is. I literally can't even write so much as like. a hug. without feeling like I'm the most disgusting piece of shit ever (lots of complicated reasons but it boils down to basically. well you're thinking about his body. and that his body would feel nice. and that is absolutely not allowed in any way). when I've said that I'm writing some insane shit I don't mean like haha, this is sooo dirty hehe :3 no guys I mean it is literally insane and mostly me literally having to write paragraphs of dialogue in which the character assures me that it's okay and I'm not horrible for thinking that and. like I'm literally writing him as if he's my fucking therapist because that's the only way I can justify it in my own head.

like, I am not exaggerating when I say that I've made myself feel like I'm physically ill from overthinking this so much. I literally felt like I had a fever because I got so extremely stressed out about it. I think that was about like. holding hands or some shit. I'm 32 fucking years old. I'm literally married (won't even get into that but fuck dude just imagine being like this and. yeah).

and the funniest part about all of that is that I feel so unbelievably ashamed about all of it that I don't think I could even mention it to a therapist or whatever. like the thought alone is so absolutely horrifying that it makes me feel like I need to be punished for it. so I just convince myself that well it can't really be OCD anyway because I don't even have compulsions anymore (even though I did, and they affected my life so much for like, 15 years at least), and well even if it could still be that even without the compulsions well it's not that bad really. I mean I don't have the issues that people with actual OCD have, it doesn't really affect me, so what if I can't think about fucking that fictional guy, imagine how much a therapist would laugh at you for thinking you should get help with that, nope your brain is just fundamentally broken (it's always been that way after all, so it can't be something like that, no you're just broken and wrong and that's why all your thoughts are bad, you're just the worst person on Earth).

I can't explain how hard it is to even like. just talk about the most mundane shit. like let's say there's a picture of The Guy and I think he looks good. it's such a struggle to let myself say that. like literally, something as fucking basic as that. literally anything that is an admission of 'hi I've thought about his face and his body and I think they look kind of nice' makes me feel like I should literally die. that's why I've been trying to say that shit as much as I can lately, with the reasoning being well if I just keep doing it and nothing horrible happens it'll get easier right? (nope it doesn't, not really)

and like, there's so much more to it than social media, obviously. like it's probably 99% my upbringing (didn't even fucking realise until very recently that a lot of it is based on religious stuff because I didn't understand that my family was even that religious. yeah I don't get it either. but there's way more than the religion aspect, just pretty much everything about my childhood and my parents and. everything). but it does play a huge part in it for me and. I don't know what to do about that and I'll probably do nothing because doing anything is hard and I'm already completely overwhelmed by everything.

yeah idk all of that came from thinking about that video too much, idk, I'm shutting up now

#literally I've talked about this with. I think exactly two people. and one is just the very basics and even that is. hard. (the other one #is - well hi you probably know I mean you.) #anyway I'm gonna go dig a hole that I can live in now because that's what I deserve for having thoughts. bye. #personal

[mermaidsirennikita]

I feel like I’ve really been struggling to find books that I enjoy/am super excited to read. Can you recommend any books that you love or that have helped you get out of a reading slump? Contemporary/historical/paranormal are all great! Thank you!

Yeah, for sure! I haven't been in a true slump for a while. I have been through a bit of a book hangover these past few days just because I keep wanting to reread what I read before versus committing to new stuff, but that's different. I will say that I think combining audiobooks and standard reading has helped me avoid slumps. But audiobooks aren't for everyone, obviously!

Anyway, here's a lot of books with more info than you needed.

Okay, so.... I've been trying to lay off ranting about them too much because I still have friends who need to read them, and I'm working on a powerpoint/intro thing about them, but it's hard because Mila Finelli's Kings of Italy series is like. The best shit I've read in a while. Easily the most a series has consumed me since the next series I'll mention, which I read around October of last year--and it's a lot shorter, so it's easier to read through. I literally just ran through these books like a madwoman. I read through the wee hours of the morning; I read on a bus with a weird individual reading over my shoulder; I read on the subway; I read waiting for the subway; I read on a bench; I read in a restaurant while doing a solo bottomless brunch which was one of the most transcendentally peaceful experiences of my life. And now I've just been reading again, and trying to convince myself not to get the audiobooks because that would be RIDICULOUS but IS IT??? IS IT THO???

The series should be read in order, imo, and the first two books are a full duet, so not standalones. What I think makes this series stand out, aside from the emotionality combined with eroticism (these are.... definitely among the very hottest books I've ever read) is the choice to focus on the mafia in Italy, versus the mafia in America, which is what a lot of mafia books do (from what I'm told). So you get like, actually Italian characters and culture, versus Eyetalian (the Americans that love chicken parm and have their own unique culture that is nonetheless *nothing* like Italy Italians, who to be fair have many different cultural nuances due to the regionality of Italy, dialectal differences, economic--). I'm not Italian, but I have lived in a couple different parts of Italy and make it a priority to travel there whenever it's possible (which isn't often because money, but if I can I do it). The dudes in these books feel like Italian men, albeit with obligatory romance novel exaggeration. In most romances, they feel Eyetalian.

Mafia Mistress and Mafia Darling are about Fausto Ravazzani and Frankie Mancini; he is a don in Siderno, her dad is a part of a Toronto branch of the organization who runs afoul of him, Frankie is basically given to Fausto's son and heir Giulio in marriage. But before Giulio and Frankie can marry (she is not happy about this arranged marriage thing, and tbh neither is Giulio) Fausto decides "fuck it, she and I are vibing, she's not a virgin anyway, she's gonna be my new mistress" because Fausto is That Guy. It is age gap, it is very daddy, it has a heroine who's like defiant but is she really? Because she really does love the daddy thing. There is spanking and some light degradation and rough sex and a loooot of spoiling. And also DRAMA. If you have ever wanted to try an age gap romance.... this shit nails everything I personally love about it. Fausto is classy and old school and will also cut a man up into a million pieces and feed him to dogs, probably.

Mafia Madman, my favorite in the series, comes next, and it is a VILLAIN ROMANCE. The villain of the previous duet, Enzo D'Agostino, kidnaps Frankie's sister Gia as a part of a REVENGE PLOT, because he is both very smart and incredibly cracked. Like, my dude is living on a VILLAINOUS YACHT. His plan is to keep Gia in a cage and break her will and then dot dot dot, he hasn't thought it COMPLETELY THROUGH, but then! Gia turns out to be the greatest weakness for a man such as he: a FUCKIN' BRAT. This bitch is doing naked yoga in her cage, she's telling him all the filthy things she'll do to him (not that she waaaants to ohhh nooooooo, she haaaates him especially when he DOES STUFF to her), she's driving him out of his mind which is already very tenuous! A new classic for me, I can't stop thinking about it, and again, even better if you read the first two books first (and they're absolute bangers so you should). 15/10, would stay in the cage. Enzo and Gia are a perfect match of wills, and watching them break and fall in love is gorgeous. A top tier grovel, too, if you see

Mafia Target, the most recent release, also incredible. This one follows Giulio, Fausto's oldest son, who's hot as fuck, and naturally a MAFIA TARGET. Someone, someone whose name perhaps rhymes with Schmenzo, has in fact taken out a hit on Giulio (and semi forgotten about it? Because Gia's pussy is God? Gia fucked that man so good he deadass forgot about a really important mafia hit he put out? I love them) and has hired the best assassin in the game, Alessio Ricci. Anyway, Giulio sees a guy in the club, he gets head from him, as he does, and then he's advised that Alessio Ricci is trying to kill him and realizes THE GUY IN THE CLUB WHO SUCKED HIM OFF WAS ALESSIO RICCI LMAO. Anyway, this one is a extremely hot, extremely emotional, and probably the most straightforwardly romantic book in the series? Because Giulio and Alessio are better at Feelings than Fausto and Enzo, if still very Bad At Feelings. Another top fuckin' tier grovel. (For the record, Fausto does a good grovel in his duet, but imo the subsequent books have better grovels.)

These books are pEAK. And if you're interested in an historical series by the same author with a different name to break you out of your slump--Mila Finelli is Joanna Shupe, and I'd recommend reading her Uptown Girls trilogy for slump breakage. I also love love LOVE her Fifth Avenue Rebels series, but Uptown Girls might be a bit more... compulsively readable? The similarities and differences between her historicals and her mafia books are fascinating (Clay Madden -> Enzo D'Agostino... there is a pipeline).

The other series (and I do feel like a good series is a great slump breaking tactic, because if the series is good you domino them) I find incredibly readable is, of course, Kresley Cole's Immortals After Dark. There are like, 19 books in this series, I enjoyed all of them though some are stronger than others. They are probably best read in order. I just blazed through them, but you could always read a few, break, read a few, break.

Of course, Lisa Kleypas's Wallflowers is a great historical series. I also find her Gamblers of Craven's duology so so good from a duology POV, and I say this as someone who read Dreaming of You by itself and read Then Came You years later.

Lorraine Heath is obviously incredible. I'd read her Once Upon a Dukedom series for slump breakage; I adore the first book as one of my favorites of hers, and the second is a general fan favorite.

Tracey Livesay has an amazing contemporary called American Royalty, which is about a British prince falling in love with an American rapper. It's very "Harry and Meghan if Meghan was MEGAN (Thee Stallion)" and it's super hot and lovely. The sequel is out this summer, so you might wanna get a head start!

Heated Rivalry and The Long Game by Rachel Reid are two of my favorite contemporaries ever--and it's a duet! Focuses on Ilya Rozanov (cocky, charming, self-assured) and Shane Hollander (golden boy, uptight, anxious), hockey arch rivals who have been hooking up on the DL since their rookie season. Very much a FEEEEELINGS duet, but also very, very hot. I've read both a billion times.

The Queer Principles of Kit Webb and The Perfect Crimes of Marian Hayes (in that order) by Cat Sebastian is a pair of queer historicals that can be read as standalones but read better together and in order. Kit is a retired highwayman who's approached by Percy, a nobleman. Percy and his stepmother, Marian, need Kit's help to rob Percy's father; in the process of training Percy to do it, Kit, of course, falls in love with him. Percy is one of the more relatable characters ever, he is a BITCH AND A HALF LOL.

Something Fabulous and Something Spectacular (out today!) are a pair of hilarious queer historical romcoms by Alexis Hall. Begins with Something Fabulous, which is about Valentine (a duke!) proposing horrifically to a woman he's been pledged to since childhood. She responds by running away, and Valentine goes on a cross country adventure to catch her, alongside her twin brother, Bonny--who he begins falling for.

Lush Money by Angelina M. Lopez. Self-made lady billionaire wants a baby, and convinces a prince of an impoverished nation to marry and impregnate her in exchange for a financial bailout. HOT. ENEMIES TO LOVERS. INSANE.

Nobody's Baby But Mine by Susan Elizabeth Phillips, for an older contemporary. A fucking insane book wherein a genius scientist tricks an aging NFL star into knocking her up so that she can have a baby of middling intelligence, who's "normal". Her thought process is that she's super smart and he's super dumb, so they'll make an a average kid. Except oops, this motherfucker is actually QUITE smart, and when he figures out her deal he's like "nO KID OF MINE WILL BE A BASTARD" and forces her to marry him. Has a scene where he shows up at the class she's teaching, leans against the doorway, and menacingly goes "CLASS IS OVER" and honestly? It worked real hard.

Priest by Sierra Simone. Erotic romance about a Catholic priest who starts getting worked up by the woman telling him all this dirty shit during confessional, except they actually fall legit in love and there's some really gorgeous religious pondering throughout.

Queen Move by Kennedy Ryan. Childhood friends torn apart by circumstance meet again later and feel sparks, but she's a hardcore political fixer and he has a id and a baby's mother. Angsty drama and reconnection, I fuckin love it.

Ruby Dixon's Aspects and Anchors series, which is a cross-universe fantasy romance series in which the heroines get thrown through portals into this high fantasy world. They basically have to serve these gods as their tethers to the mortal realms, and obviously... the gods fall for them. Can be read a standalones but I'd read them in order. Hot, romantic, and fun in a way Ruby Dixon excels at.

Preferential Treatment by Heather Guerre is a romance about a woman who becomes her CEO billionaire boss's dom. It's hot, it debates whether or not a billionaire can be ethical, and he gets. on. his. kneeees.

#romance novel blogging #book recs

[zeldasnotes]

This will be long i'm sorry, but it's worth it, somehow i think you're a good person with who i should share this with.

I'm wipping my tears while writing this, this year i have scorpio rising with moon in the 1st house sr, i don't remember the other aspects but my emotions are all around, i have never experienced so much anxiety in one year as this year. . I had an anxiety attack at the beginning of the year in March, i thought i was going to die because i affected me physically and I haven't been hungry for days. My mom had to do prayers. Since this breakdown, i have a feeling I may not be the same person i was last year. And I'm hungry for learning, something I thought was normal is suddenly a deep trauma response.

I got better and thought everything was fine. This made happy because it was scary. After "dying", i reborn. Now, again, I've been anxious and not hungry. I'm trying to convince myself better days are coming but it's not working, as a saturn dominant with 8H stellium, chiron in 12 and retrograde planets, my life is always going through some chaos but i coped well, but now i'm screaming for help. Started during pandemic but this year, my friend, is the champion, i'm feeling the weight of the traumas and i think i'm being forced to acknowlegdge and face it, i'm also extremely self aware, more than i was last year, i'm not going to let any cicle repeat, i'm done.

Not to mention the other issues like loneliness and living in a stagnant environment with a stagnant person(my mom), as a empath and overthinker that's going through a 20s crisis (i'm 19) it feels like it's going to last forever, but i know will not.

I have jupiter in 1st house sr for two years consecutives after 2024 so i know happy days are coming. I accept any advice and if you had a similar experience i'm all years to know how did you handle it. I can't wait for this year to end.

Hi! Thank you for sharing. And I completely understand I went through A LOT of changes when I had Scorpio Rising in the SR chart. I think its because sooo much is brought up to the surface, a lot of changes around you or you can sense that change is just around the corner. And this mixed with being extra intense. I remember crying a lot during that year and I was depressed in a way Ive never been before. It was horrible! I handled this with a lot of self care, i distancing myself from anything that me me feel bad. I also left a friend because she was constantly bringing me down. I watched movies that made me happy and inspired. And yes the self awareness during this period is insane and actually hurtful because you see everything exactly as it is with no rose colored glasses. People are not as nice as they seem and oh how i learned that during that year.

I think as you say, happy days are coming! Change is on its way and thats why you are going through this. I see it as a ”purging” phase. And remember that its okay to keep a distance from anything and anyone who doesnt make you feel good! 🙏🩵

[sallage]

Hiiii I love your fics and cant wait for part 2!

Are you a Lee or a Ler? Do you have a fav spot you like to be tickled in/tickle others in or love writing about? Thanks a bunch! :)

Ahhh thank you! Haha it’s nice to know that people are enjoying what I’ve been putting out so far!

Ohmygosh I'm loving all of the asks! haha okay, let me break this down 😂👇🏾

Lee or Ler?

I’m primarily a Lee, but I have my switch moments! 😋 I mentioned in a previous ask that I had convinced my boyfriend to try the Lee role && let me tell you, I definitely discovered some things about myself, as did he 😂 My favorite part of it all was him discovering how tklish he actually was, which was something he truly wasn’t expecting.

He thought he was safe 😈

Favorite Spot to Tickle?

When it came to tkling him, my favorite spots were the ones that he couldn’t stand. (For visualization, he's a muscular dude. He loves the gym and takes really good care of himself.) So the muscle right below his underarms and a little towards his back, his sides and lower belly were incredibly sensitive to light spider tickles. I have medium length nails so that drove him crazy. I’m not a huge fan of feet, but his are sensitive so I made an exception 😂 The inner sides of his hips and his thighs. All of those spots made him ask for it to stop. I only see myself being a Ler for him, so I would say those spots are my favorite to tickle. ☺️

Favorite Spot to Write About?

When I write stories, I love writing about thigh tickling. Specifically the sensitive tendons on the upper inner thigh that connects to the crotch. I think that spot and generally the pelvic area is sooooo underrated. You'll see it pop up in more of my works. One more spot I love writing about is the ribs because thats a sensitive spot on me personally. 😋

Favorite Spot to be Tickled In?

Hmmm... I find myself stuck on this one. The first thought that came to my head was my ribs and thighs, because I really enjoy it. But honestly, I like getting tickled everywhere except my feet, which is hilarious because they're my absolute worst spot.

Seriously, nothing even comes close.

The longest I've lasted would have to be just a minute or two and thats only because my safe word was ignored. (Which at the time was horrible but when I think back to it, It was pretty hot LOL) My feet are always off limits but honestly, he doesn't care.

I hope I answered all of your questions! ☺️

#sallage-asks #tickle questions