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#at least maybe it would be one less thing to hurt me if I stick to it long enough
whimsyprinx · 1 year
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i think at this point I should just give up on relationships
#whimsy whispers#I’m not anyone’s obligation and I don’t want to be anymore#you don’t have to reach out or check in and you don’t have to care it doesn’t matter anyways#I’m just tired of relationships being painful to me and me alone#if the people who I wanted to hear from or be closer to or to care saw this post it wouldn’t matter#and if people started caring suddenly or started reaching out in general/more what would change? would it even be genuine?#it doesn’t feel like people reach out because they genuinely want to it feels like they do so because they either have to or because they#want something#like I’ve said before I’m just tired of feeling like an obligation or a burden or like I’m not worth the time.#my presence and existence makes me tired and I’m sure it makes everyone else tired as well and like it’s pointless#I feel pathetic and dumb for clinging to people like I have been#hopefully I stick to this this time! otherwise I’ll only end up hurt again#doing this won’t make me any happier ofc because like I said before I feel like at this point I’m not capable of being happy but like#at least maybe it would be one less thing to hurt me if I stick to it long enough#idk I always hope that things will change and if I’m persistent enough that things will work out but that’s not how it works in regards to#anything#relationships are hard and idk if I deserve one that isn’t hard or confusing so like maybe I just shouldn’t have any#I managed to make this post without crying isn’t that wild?
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norrisleclercf1 · 8 months
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Letter 1
Pairing: Charles Leclerc x Reader x Lando Norris
Part. 6 to Our Boy Series
Rating: PG
Words: 1.1K
Warnings: Angst, maybe fluff?
Our Boy Series / Previous It's All a Lie / Next Broken Hearts and Duct Tape >
Synopsis: After leaving, you left all your letter behind. The ones you wrote and the ones he wrote. Elijah finally reads Letter 1, maybe it brings comfort? But sometimes comfort can hurt.
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Elijah, you must hate me for what I did. Rightfully so, but first, you should know the story. The real story. This is how your father and I met.........
We met in 2016; I was 19 and he was 31. How do I even begin to explain this to you, the significant age gap and much less how we even got together. Well, I can thank Lewis for that one. 
Lewis introduced us when there was a massive party at the beginning of the year, kicking off the new F1 season. I went with my father. He was invited and brought me along, wanting me to mingle. Father introduced me to Lewis when I was young. McLaren boys stick together. 
Lewis was, is, an older brother to me and someone I've always admired. When he introduced me to Nico, I highly doubt he expected Nico and me to fall in love. I didn't even plan on falling in love with him. Sometimes, I regret it. Other times, I don't because you came from that love. 
Stupid and young, I got drunk, and Lewis was panicking. My father would've killed him if he knew the state I was in. Nico offered to take me, but he never once made a move on me. Laid me in his bed and slept on the couch. Nico wasn't always the monster. I made him out to be. If I was older and got pregnant...things would be different. 
Nico was so good to me. We didn't get together until Barcelona, god he was so angry, and we became close, almost friends. He regretted it. I know he did. After it happened, he left that night, already back in Monaco, and I was still in Spain. Hurt was the understatement of the century. I was devastated. 
I don't know what it was about Nico, but he trapped me in a way I couldn't understand. Nico was the first person I ever truly loved, and it was something Nico knew. He loved me; I know he did. After Spain, I returned to Monaco and ran into him; he said nothing, just kissed me. 
To say the least, we weren't safe, literally and metaphorically. Whenever we were together, it was either fighting or completely wrapped into one another. We didn't care what people said, those who knew and those who didn't. Dad wasn't aware of the relationship until I called him crying one night. 
Japan, 2016. I still remember sitting in the hotel room holding the test. I was furious, distraught, happy, and scared. I only told Nico in Abu Dhabi. I figured he'd be so happy. Winning the World Championship and now having a baby? He'd be on top of the world. Anyway, I called my Dad 4 weeks after Japan. 
He flew out immediately and went straight to Nico. Told him how he knew of the relationship, Nico was happy. He wanted Mika to know and confess how he loved and respected me. Fast forward to Abu Dhabi, and there we were in the middle of his hotel room. When I told him, he cried, hugged me, and said he'd marry me when we got to Monaco. 
Waking the next morning, I was sure Nico loved me. Only to roll over and see him gone. Everything was gone. I should've known right then, and there he left me, but I thought maybe he was talking to my Dad or Toto. Instead, I went around the entire city only to be told he went back to Monaco and was retiring and moving back to Germany. 
Dad didn't say a word when I told him. He simply nodded and helped me back to Monaco. Getting to our apartment, it was empty. It was all gone, the pictures, trophies, his stuff. Only my belongings remained. 
And a letter, a letter I still need to open. It's in this box. You should read it before me. Nico left me, not you. I was so blinded by rage and heartbreak that anytime he reached out, the first part wasn't that my son would know his father. No, it was; I could finally get back at him for all the pain he left me in. 
4 months pregnant, I met you, Papa. I knew of him, but he didn't know of me. I hid in the shadows at the races so no one would know of Nico and me. Upfront with me being pregnant, he just smiled. At 19, your Papa didn't care. We became friends. He knew I was heartbroken and wasn't ready for a relationship. 
Yet when I was with him, he was different. Touches, words, feelings, everything with him was different. The kind of love I only wish you can find one day, Ducky. Charles loved you the first moment we met. He taught you how to walk; Cha was your first word. Elijah, our rock, kept us together and refused to let me waste away. 
When you said Charles and Lando weren't your fathers, my world crumbled underneath my feet. My hatred and pain fueled your pain of not knowing Nico. But, Ducky, he's not your father. Charles and Lando are. They raised you. 
Charles is the one who encouraged you to start karting and protected you. Lando is the one who holds you when you're crumbling. You're their first child and greatest love. No love is more vital than that of a parent and their child. Hate, curse, never speak to me again if you have to, but Elijah, never say they aren't your fathers. 
Love, 
Your Mama 
Blinking, Elijah folds the letter. Standing up from his bed, he creaks open the door, seeing the house pitched in black. Elijah could still hear Cece crying and his Dad's soft words. Walking past, he heads to the main bedroom. Pushing open the door, it creaks. 
"Lando? Did she finally fall asleep?" Elijah cringes, hearing his Pa's raw and scratchy voice. "Papa? It's me." A light clicks on, Elijah blinking as he takes in the sight of his real father. "Duc-Elijah? Something wrong?" Charles rubs his eyes, so red that Elijah's throat clamps shut. "I'm," Shuffling his feet, he gathers himself, but looking up, it all breaks. 
"I'm so sorry, oh god." Elijah sobs. Charles moves quick off the bed. Without hesitation, Charles crushes him into his chest, cradling him like when Elijah was a toddler. "You're my," He gasps for air, arms squeezing so tight Charles couldn't breathe, but he doesn't care. "You're my father. You've always been my father. Oh god, what did I do?" Elijah sobs, shattering in Charles's arms. 
"Breath, breathe for me," Charles whispers, but Elijah shakes his head, moving closer into his Papa's arms. Charles doesn't think twice as he moves Elijah to his bed, laying them down. "I don't hate you," Sobs rattle Elijah's chest as he hides away. "I, I," "Don't, don't say anything," Charles whispers, pinching his eyes as he tries to stop his own tears. 
Charles just holds Elijah, unable to let him go as he lets his silent tears fall. "You're my boy, always my baby boy," Charles whispers. 
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Taglist: @thomaslefteyebrow @a-stray-soul @formulas-bitch @mickslover @myescapefromthislife @glow-ish @kittyfluffypaws28 @ryntro @copper-boom @allabouthappiness @jaydaaasworld @christianpulisic10 @lyraleclerc @daddyslittlevillain @dreamerrosie @driveswiftly13 @harrysdimple05 @sueesstuff @why4anne @nataliambc @cwiphswmwasohmm @buckybarnessweetheart @makingmyway-downtown
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kitchenisking · 2 months
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February Fic Rec
Hey Guys, I'm sorry I'm so late this month that its already the next month😅 I went back to work this month and I have mixed feelings about it so there's that🫤 but at least there's faction - please don't tell my kindle, there's so many books on there that I got to read😓. anyway, happy readying everyone! enjoy the spring and remember to kudos and comment😘
Show Him The Love by scarlettletterr - (Rating: Mature, Words: 2,911, sterek)
Everyone realizes Stiles is awesome, and actually gives him the recognition he deserves! For all his research, for his constant loyalty, for having awful stuff happen to him and always coming back for more, for trying to do the right thing even when people don't listen when they should.
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My gift for Meggplant, for the Glompfest. Hope you like it!
You feel like Home by Itsreallyjustforresearch83 - (Rating: Mature, Words: 24,300, sterek)
Five times Stiles gets abused by his boyfriend and and the one time everything falls into place, like it was always meant to be. 
Maybe it was. 
-------------------------------------------------------
"Are you really just leaving?" Stiles asked him. 
"Yeah? There's no point in me sticking around, we already did what we always do." His boyfriend said, fastening his belt and walking out of Stiles' room.
It Starts When You're Around by strobelighted - (Rating: Explicit, Words: 26,406, sterek)
"Earth to Derek. You okay, man?"
Derek's eyes are drawn back to the guy in front of him, who's starting to look more worried now.
"I --" he starts, then swallows against the dryness. "Who are you?"
--
or, Derek gets amnesia
eli's parents are so gross (read: in love) by ash_mcj - (Rating: T, Words: 1,195, sterek)
"I would’ve been here earlier, but nobody thought it would be smart to call the one person who’s intimately dealt with the Nogitsune before, so,” Stiles said bitterly as he threw his hands up. "Now I have a list of asses I gotta kick over this very avoidable fiasco. Scott’s first, since he’s the Alpha—I’m pretty sure that’s how that works. His responsibility, or whatever.”
The familiar sound of Derek’s car pulling into the driveway caught Eli's attention, and he grinned. “Is Dad on your list?”
“Hell yeah, Dad is on my list! Right under Scott.”
“Well, he just got home, so—”
Stiles didn’t wait to hear the rest of the sentence before stomping off in the direction of the living room—and Eli quickly scrambled to follow him, ready to eavesdrop on what was likely going to be a rather impressive and amusing lecture.
[or: eli is glad that stiles is home, since derek has nearly died several times in his absence, but he really wishes they were a little less glad to see each other] -- prompt | a reunion kiss
Hide by dr_girlfriend - (Rating: Explicit, Words: 12,419, sterek)
Stiles has been rejected so many times that it doesn't really surprise him when it happens again. Hurts, yeah, because dammit — he'd thought Derek was the one. Heartbreak sucks, and he's not so sure he's going to get over it this time.
Breaking A Rule by SinQueen69 - (Rating: Explicit, Words: 1,426, sterek)
Anon on tumblr wanted: Hiya! Please with sugar on top write a Sterek fic where derek is a business man and Stiles is a horny cockslut that sends Derek nudes while at work and Derek is pent up and punishes him when he gets home. Daddy Kink, Manhandling, Strength Kink, Bruises, Spanking, Rough Sex, Orgasm Denial, mentions of kittenplay?, verbal humiliation, gags! Tanks be safe and healthy
Soft Space by TuppingLiberty - (Rating: Mature, Words: 1,492,k sterek)
This time of year, Derek has to face too many bad anniversaries - the fire, the deaths. Stiles understands when Derek has to take a break from being alpha, when he just needs his daddy. 
Rated M for kink, but no explicit (or even mature) sex.
Kinktober day 4: Daddy (Starting Kinktober now so I can maybe finish in October this year)
How to Win an Argument Without Really Trying by sffan - (Rating: Explicit, Words: 2,288, sterek)
It started with a kiss.
Well, actually, it started with an argument.
no river, no rush by CoraRochester, ravenclawkward - (Rating: Explicit, Words: 5,351, sterek)
“You can’t marry me! I’m the worst choice. For one, there’s no strategic value to marrying a prince from Gajos—and if there were, I’d have been betrothed to you or Cora years ago. We have nothing to offer Beacon. I’m not even good at being a prince!”   …
On the eve of Derek’s coronation, he proposes to Stiles.
Are You Fucking Kidding Me? by Itsreallyjustforresearch83 - (Rating: Mature, Words: 2,893, sterek)
Derek has liked Stiles for a really long time, like embarrassingly long. But he swore to himself that he wouldn't make a move on Stiles until he knew for sure that his feeling were returned because he refuses to force something onto the Spark. 
OR
Derek likes Stiles, Stiles likes Derek, but the Alpha is convinced that Stiles is still in love with Lydia and can't see the obvious dofus Stiles is being around him. Lydia intervenes just because she's sick of watching the two dummys not be together.
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miasmaghoul · 9 months
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I’ve been thinking about 0 stamina dew recently. Like that part in mummy dust where he jerks off in time for the canon? Dude gets in like 4 jerks before he’s blowing his load. Probably would be even less if it was someone else’s hands on him.
you guys have no idea what a minute man dew truther i am omg my moment has cum
Dew tries not to view it as a weakness.
He has stamina in other ways. More than most, really. He can take and take without complaining - well, not in any way that matters, at least. He can take pain and pleasure, humiliation and scorn, laughter and praise; whatever they give, he will gladly take. Takes it all in stride, even, save for the occasional case of supdrop or mild internal bruising. Dew is good at taking.
When it comes time to give, though -
"Dew, fuck, please-" Aether voice quivers as much as his belly, tight with pleasure. "Please give it to me."
Well, there's a reason Dew rarely tops.
"Soon," he breathes, licking his lips while he watches Aether open up for him. "Soon, I promise."
Aether drops his head back onto the mattress with a groan, rolls his hips, and Dew sighs.
There's a reason he rarely tops, but Aether asked, and Aether always gets what he wants. Whether Dew likes it or not.
As though he could possibly not.
They've been here for a while now, started back when the sun still painted his room in summery tones of rose and peach. It's lit by Dew's bedside lamp now, but Aether looks no less tantalizing in this light.
On his back, legs splayed and hanging over the edge of the bed, fists bunched in pale gray sheets. He's flushed all over, skin shiny with sweat and speckled with evidence of Dew's mouth. Splotches of color that pepper Aether's throat, his inner thighs and everywhere in between. Sucked in deep enough that Dew will be able to press on them for a few days to remind Aether what he can do.
Dew's eyes, though, aren't caught on those marks. They're been stuck between Aether's legs for a while now, ever since Dew settled to his knees between those strong thighs. Stuck on the sight of Aether's wet, purpling cock, throbbing where it rests in the crease of his hip. It jumps every time Dew's fingers move, every time he curls them deep inside Aether's needy body.
Dew pets at the bump of his prostate and Aether yelps as his cock spits a blurt of pre. There's a trail of it coating Aether's hip, just begging to be lapped up. Dew indulges, drags his tongue from Aether's frenulum and over the fresh bead already welling up in his slit. Relishing the choked off gasp he gets in return, in the way that tight pink hole clamps down around his digits.
He licks up the mess coating Aether's warm skin, bathes his tongue in the salty musk of pre and sweat, and Dew's own cock dribbles onto the hardwood floor.
The thing has gone ignored all evening, left alone while Dew worked Aether over. While he licked into his mouth and kissed down his chest. While he took every inch of Aether into his hot mouth and swallowed him down. While he pressed wet, sloppy kisses to Aether's full balls and tickled his soft, pink rim.
It hurts. Aches in a way Dew really likes, in spite of himself. It's so hard, flushed red and sticking straight out, wagging in the air whenever Aether lets out one of his beautifully agonized sounds. The little ghoul hasn't so much as squeezed at it, devoting himself instead to pulling pleasure from Aether's stunning body in any way he can.
He has no other choice - one rogue brush of his own fingers could spell his doom.
Well, maybe not just a brush, but it certainly wouldn't help.
Dew rolls his hips into the air anyway, silent desperation. His other hand, the one not busy milking drop after drop of fluid from Aether's twitching cock, provides a distraction. He funnels heat into his palm, rubs it over Aether's thigh and up his stomach. Aether hisses at the burning warmth, squirms, and Dew pulls it back just enough to make him groan instead.
"Dew - love, please," he begs, the sound of it hitting the little ghoul right in the gut, "you - want you -"
"You've got me," Dew assures him, trying not to let his voice betray the soreness between his legs. Not that he needs to hide it, Aether knows exactly why Dew's holding out on him. They've been here before.
"You know what I mean," Aether pants, gasping out a soft oh when Dew's overwarm hand wraps around his pulsing length. Aether peers down at him with blown-out eyes and bee stung lips, deep hunger lining his face. Dew gives his swollen tip a little kiss and pillows his head on Aether's thick thigh, letting out deep sigh.
"Are you close?"
Dew crooks his fingers and a generous blob of pre slides down over his knuckles. Aether shivers, but he doesn't respond, and Dew has his answer.
"You know how this works," he murmurs, smearing that slickness over Aether's shaft and starting to stroke. "You know how to get it inside."
Dew watches Aether dig his fingers into the sheets harder, and he can't help the little moan that escapes him.
"Just tell me when," he breathes, nipping at the tender skin of Aether's hip. "Then you can have it."
It's not that he wants to deny Aether. Not really. That's more of a pleasant side effect of this exercise. Dew has a definite goal here, one he's never managed but always aims for, and it hinges on getting Aether to that razor's edge before he even thinks about giving him what he wants. It's the only way Dew stands a chance.
Patience is not a virtue the little ghoul possesses in spades, but determination is another story.
Tonight, he will make Aether cum on his cock.
Dew snorts to himself - even in his head it sounds ridiculous. Something that should be so simple, always just out of his grasp. He tries, every time he tries, and yet success eludes him. Always on a hair trigger, never more than a few pumps from spilling long before he's ready. Weak to any pressure around the sensitive flesh hanging between his legs, pathetically so. His own hand was bad enough, and that's a habit he's mostly abandoned in favor of becoming something of a communal hole instead.
But he is determined, and Aether deserves to spill all over his own belly before Dew fucks a hot load into him. Dew will be so good to him afterwards to make up for the wait, he swears he will - all Aether has to do is give him this. Has to lay there and take what the little ghoul gives him, has to let Dew push and push until he can't take any more, driven to the brink until he's a drooling, quivering mess.
Dew wraps his lips around the head, gives him a nice slurp, and Aether's back arches. The sound he makes when Dew stretches his jaw and swallows him down is low and decadent, deliciously sinful. It only takes a few bobs of his head for Aether's breathing to go stilted, and Dew takes that as his opportunity to wiggle a third finger into Aether's eager hole.
"Lucifer that's good," Aether says in a rush, trying to rock back against Dew's hand. His cock throbs against Dew's tongue and the little ghoul groans, the vibration of it forcing a tremor through every inch of Aether's body. "Oh, Dew -"
His voice melts into a tight, reedy plea for more, and Dew knows it won't be much longer now. He doubles down on wringing those heady sounds from Aether's throat. Messy, unintelligible gurgles that flow freely from his tongue and his cock pours pre down Dew's throat.
Aether's fluttering round his probing fingers now, hot and velvety in a way that makes Dew's eyes cross. He's rutting into the air mindlessly, skinny hips humping against nothing at all. Part of him hates that he can stay so hard for so long, only to fall apart in seconds. It feels like a betrayal on the deepest level, but right now Dew doesn't care.
Aether's starting to sound stupid now, and it's music to his ears. Little ah, ah, ah sounds forced out with every swirl of Dew's fingers over his most sensitive spots. He's started to draw his knees up too, started to curl in on himself, and Dew feels Aether's balls begin to draw up against his chin.
"Close, close," Aether warns, moaning long and low when Dew pulls off with a wet pop.
"Yeah?" He asks it a bit breathlessly, eyes sparkling and cock jumping. "Gonna shoot for me?" Aether gives him a frantic nod and Dew groans, biting his lip. "Fuck, I'm gonna make you feel so good."
He pulls his fingers from Aether's tense, quivering body with no ceremony, little chest heaving as he shoves himself to his feet. His knees scream at the movement, but Dew does not have the capacity to care. He paws at the bed in search of their discarded bottle of lube, digging it out from the mess of blankets and popping the cap.
"Legs up," he instructs, drizzling entirely too much slick over himself, "show me - yeah, just like that, fuck."
Dew groans through his teeth when Aether grabs for his knees and tucks them up by his chest, making sure not to hide his face. Dew would never allow that. He's slick and swollen, puffy hole clenching around nothing, desperate to be filled. Dew pours more lube there too, and Aether squeezes his eyes shut with a strangled sound.
"Shh," the little ghoul soothes, smearing the lube over his hole and pushing some inside. "I've got you, I've got you."
With a deep breath, Dew finally risks touching himself where it counts. His whole body feels like a livewire, twitchy with unspent energy and tension. He hasn't only ignored his cock tonight - his whole body remained off limits, even to Aether. Especially to Aether. He can feel sweat trailing down his temples, down his sacrum, and when Dew oh-so-gently spreads that generous layer of lube over himself it knocks the air from his lungs. It's just so sensitive.
With a barely-hidden whimper, Dew wipes his slippery hand clean on the sheets and grips tight at the base, his other hand digging into the plushness of Aether's thigh. Squeezing mindlessly while he lines up his dripping cock with Aether's wet hole. There's entirely too much lube in play here, but it's all intentional. Necessary, if you ask Dew. An added barrier, a reduction in sensation that his body desperately needs.
It hardly helps. Even the bump of his tip against Aether's hole feels like too much, and Dew grabs at Aether's cock again. Strokes once, twice, three times to make sure he's still riding the edge. The way Aether's toes curl is a dead giveaway.
"Dew," he bites out, licking his lips and opening himself so wide, "now."
Dew can deny him no longer.
The little ghoul shouts when the tip slips into that tight ring of muscle, and the searing pressure of Aether's body shreds his patience with the sharpest claws. It sucks him in, hot and silky and so, so perfect. Dew sinks into him in one long push, not trusting himself to stop. If he stops, Aether might clamp down on him. If Aether clamps down on him, his head will implode.
What a way to go.
Dew seats himself to the hilt, and the moment their hips meet his shoulders hunch. He's throbbing already, his balls tight, and Dew cannot stay still or silent.
"Aeth - shit, Aether," he nearly whispers, chest heaving while his greedy hands grope at Aether's belly and chest, "so good, you feel so good, oh -" He starts pumping before he really means to, any control hopelessly vanishing into the suffocating heat of Aether's body.
It's embarrassing how quickly he falls apart, it really is.
"Please, please," he pants, too-stiff dick pulsing deep in Aether's hole. It's barely been a minute, but he's right there already. Like always. He drags blunt nails down that soft stomach, scratches red marks that he'll lick Aether's cum off of later.
Dew wraps both spidery hands around Aether's fat cock, strokes him tight, and the last of his control dissolves in the hurt cry Aether offers. He's slamming in now, the slap of skin on skin loud and lewd in Dew's ears.
"Aeth, baby, please -" he begs - demands - hips stuttering when Aether squeezes around him, Dew still working him with frantic hands. "Please cum, need you - oh fuck - need you to cum for me, please -"
Aether's moaning nonstop now, leaking all over Dew's fingers, thighs trembling. Dew worked so hard to get him here, spent so long worshipping Aether the way he always deserves. He knows it's close, knows he's so close to finally feeling Aether writhe around him without blowing first. He knows he can make it happen tonight, has to make it happen tonight. He doesnt care how much he has to beg, to plead; the gnawing need to feel Aether clamp down around him far outweighs any shame.
"Know you can," Dew spits, half out of his mind at least. The knot of painful heat in his belly is unraveling far too quickly, his blood set to boil. Aether hisses when Dew tightens his grip, twisting over the head, and Dew starts to ramble. "Please do it, please Aeth, let me feel it, I gotta - need to feel it, feel you -"
Dew cuts himself off with a shocked howl when a callused finger brushes over his nipple. The sensation zips through him like white-hot lightning, wrapping around the base of his spine and forcing his stomach tight. He fixes Aether with wide, wild eyes, and finds the other ghoul wearing the worst sort of smile.
"Wanted to...touch you too," Aether pants between Dew's hammering thrusts, and the little ghoul can't possibly hope to stop himself now.
"Oh no - Aeth, no, please," he whimpers, hips stuttering while the other ghoul fiddles with his chest, "you can't, that -" Dew gags on his cries when Aether pinches that stiff bud, drooling directly onto the other ghoul's stomach.
"Why...not?" Aether has no business sounding so playful, not when Dew can feel himself stabbing at his prostate with every pump. He swallows hard.
"'S gonna make me cum," Dew mewls, truly pathetic, "if you don't -"
Aether silences him by dragging Dew into a desperate kiss, all tongue and teeth and shivery moans. Dew can feel his rhythmic clenching; he's right there, he's so close -
"Next time," Aether tells him. His other hand sneaks up to Dew's other nipple, gives it a flick, and as Dew's plans for the evening start squirting out all over Aether's insides, all he can do is sob.
Next time, he'll get it.
Next time, Aether will be bent over.
With his hands tied behind his back.
Troublemaker.
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the-modern-typewriter · 4 months
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Hello! I've been reading through your blog for the past few days and everything you write is so amazing. I was wondering if maybe you would consider writing something about an aro high schooler who gets asked out by this person they've convinced themselves that they like, but when they're actually asked about it, it just feels wrong? (Bonus points if they think kissing is gross because imo it is) - sincerely, an aroace teen writer who is very inspired by you
"River kissed you!?" Their best friend shrieked, with all of the excitement that the protagonist had expected to feel.
They managed a weak smile. Their stomach squirmed.
It was supposed to be great, wasn't it? A first kiss. People wrote novels about them. It was the epic climax of the episode. It was fireworks and a fluttering stomach, it was the whole world narrowing down to a single moment, it was heart pounding love.
It was gross.
"...was it bad?" their friend asked, catching their expression. Their face fell. A smashed plate of disappointment.
The protagonist swallowed. "It was...wet."
"I mean, it takes a bit of practice to get good at it. Even with the right person. Did they stick their tongue down your throat?"
"No. I don't think so? I mean - it was fine." It would be fine. It would definitely be fine. Maybe their first kiss hadn't exactly been what they were hoping for, but it would get better. Wouldn't it? Their throat suddenly felt horribly tight. They pressed their lips together to keep their voice from wobbling and took a breath. "You're probably right. I mean, I don't know if they've ever kissed anyone before either. Maybe I was really bad at it."
"No!"
"It's okay." At least, if they were bad at kissing, that was something they could improve upon. At least it wouldn't always feel so...
It wasn't like it was all some elaborate ruse the whole population was in on, anyway. That would be ridiculous!
It had been a nice night otherwise. The movie had been good, and their hands had touched over the popcorn, and they'd got into a great discussion about the plot after.
It would get better.
...it did not get better, though.
They started to find excuses not to kiss River; "Let's take it slow."
A kiss on the head or the cheek wasn't so bad, or like a one second peck on the mouth. It was all the other kisses.
When it didn't feel wrong, they felt nothing. They counted the awkward seconds for it to be over, then vowed to do much better next time when they caught a glimpse of the confused sort of hurt in River's eyes.
"I know you're shy," River said, one day, in a trying-to-be-casual voice. "But you like...never kiss me. It's always me kissing you. Did I..." Their voice dropped, agonised, "am I really bad at it or something?"
"No, no!"
"Oh, good."
"I just - I don't now." Their stomach squeezed. "I'm not sure I really like kissing," they confessed. "It's - I don't know." It felt rude to say ew.
"Oh," River said, in a tone of less good, but trying to be chill and non-judgy. "Okay."
"Sorry."
"It's okay." River took their hand, squeezed. "Kissing isn't everything, I guess. There are other things."
For a second, just a second, they were sure they'd never loved anyone more.
They liked River. Didn't they? They certainly thought they had. They had those cheekbones, and those pretty eyes, and they were always nice to everyone. They made the protagonist laugh, at least when there wasn't kissing involved.
It should have all been perfect.
They'd always wanted to fall in love.
In the end, they broke up after about three months.
The protagonist didn't ask what they'd done wrong, because it felt obvious, even if River wasn't cruel enough to say it. Maybe they should have ended it themselves, instead of forcing River to do it. Probably.
But what could they possibly say? It's not you, it's me. Nobody would believe that even if it was true. Oh, I know I said yes to dating you, but I'm just not that into you. That felt far too mean. It wasn't like River had done anything bad.
Their best friend held them while they cried, wracking things that choked up in their chest.
"What if I die alone?"
"Don't be stupid." Their best friend hugged them hard. "Of course you're not going to lie alone. River wasn't that great anyway! There's clearly something wrong with you if they don't want you."
The protagonist didn't quite dare say that wasn't exactly how it happened.
They kissed a few other people over the years, normally around the time when everyone else did. New Year, at the strike of twelve. If there wasn't any fireworks in the kiss, at least they were popping and fizzing outside and a new year was a new slate. They tried once after a few too many cocktails, with a friend, because maybe it would feel a little better when they were tipsy. With someone who definitely knew what they were doing.
It wasn't, though.
"You'll find the right person," their best friend said. "It's different when it's the right person, you know? Like me and Willow. I didn't think, but then..." They were happily in love; exuberant on it, nonstop on it.
The protagonist didn't want to resent it. They didn't want to be that person, spitting bitter like the villain in a fairytale.
"Romance novels are very exaggerated," their best friend said. "It's not always butterflies. It doesn't have to be butterflies to be real, you know? It's just someone you really want to spend time with."
But, the more the protagonist thought about it, the more they weren't sure that was quite true. There were plenty of people that they liked being around. It still didn't make them want to kiss them.
They weren't even sure they wanted to fall in love anymore. It wasn't like they spent most of their life miserable or anything. It was just...sometimes, when everyone else in the room had someone, or their parents asked them yet again if there was anyone they'd been seeing. Even in the height of drama, it all seemed so much easier for them.
They were twenty when they first came across the words.
Aromantic Asexual.
It was the second time they'd cried over the whole kissing thing.
That time it was relief.
"Oh my god," they left their best friend a message, vindicated. "It is an elaborate ruse!!! I'm going to bite something!!"
It got better, after that.
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badalivie · 6 months
Text
[10:20 PM]
“You’re smoking.”
“Yeah. I never quit.” Doyoung pulled out a box of Marlboro Red's from his coat pocket, picking up what seemed to be his 5th cigarette based on the ashtray. He placed the stick between his lips and reached for his zippo lighter. The one you gave him for your 2nd anniversary.
The sound of the end of the cigarette beginning to burn made you roll your eyes. “Why am I not surprised. You haven’t changed at all.”
“You say that like you’ve kept in touch with me these past 9 months” Doyoung's zippo lighter made a satisfying click as he swiped it shut and tossed it back into his pocket. He took a long drag of his cigarette, then exhaled in the opposite direction, remembering how you said you hated the smell of cigarettes.
“We broke up. I wasn’t exactly obliged to.”
“Fair point.” He admitted, taking another drag from his cigarette. He glanced at you for a moment, uneasy with your silence. “You're not gonna nag me? You hated when I smoked."
“Its not my business anymore, Doyoung.”
You were right, he knew that. So why did that sentence stab at his heart the way it did? He bit his lip, holding the smoke in his lungs for a little longer that time. When you were together, he found your nagging at him to quit smoking as probably one of your most annoying habits. Yet now he wanted to desperately to hear you nagging him again. He wanted to hear you care about him.
This meeting place had become bittersweet for the two of you. 2 years ago this is where Doyoung had asked you to be his girlfriend. Now, it's the place where you first met each other after one of the nastiest breakups either of you have ever faced. Doyoung had never felt you so close to him yet so far, but really he only had himself to blame.
“How have you been?” Doyoung's hand flicked the spent ashes into the tray as he spoke.
“Seriously?”
“Can’t I ask?”
Something about him pissed you off, maybe you hadn’t fully moved on. Seeing him still hurt and irritated you, but at least not as much as before. “I’m fine.”
“You seeing someone new?”
“No.” Saying this almost felt like an admission of defeat to you. Like saying "no, you had too much of an effect on me to meet other people". It made you feel weak. Especially when you'd been hearing rumors of Doyoung fucking a new girl practically every day since your breakup.
“I see…”
“You?”
“Nah…”
“Hm, that’s unexpected.”
“What?” Doyoung blinked and turned to face you, grinding his cigarette out on the ashtray in the process.
“You didn’t really seem to care about me all that much so I thought picking up another chick would be a piece of cake for you. Actually, my bad, you picked up multiple chicks. I guess none of them stuck, manwhore.”You hissed
Doyoung’s eyebrows crashed together and his mouth cracked slightly open in disbelief “Are you kidding me right now?” Doyoung raised his voice, heat rising to his head.
“Don’t raise your voice at me! Am I wrong?! You know damn well you've been seeing new girls every night!” You knew you had no right to be upset about that. But that didn't take away how worthless his actions made you feel.
“Y/n! I'm not upset about you calling me a manwhore, I'm upset you're denying the fact that I loved you.“ He wanted to say more. When you broke up he thought of all the things he’d say to you. He’d apologize, plead, explain, everything. But now you were actually infront of him he could barely get any words out. "I love you, Y/n."
You took a deep breath, calming your nerves “Well apparently not enough.”
Doyoung felt his heart sink down to his feet. It wasn’t the truth. He loved you more than himself, more than life itself, but he was still guilty. He was guilty of loving you more than he was willing to admit and lying to himself and you that he didn't. Maybe he was selfish for wanting you back, knowing how much he hurt you, but that didn’t make him want you any less. It shattered him when he lost you —the person who cared about him most in the world.
“Listen, Doyoung. I don’t want to fight you anymore, can we just put this past us?” Your expression softened, taking yet another deep breath. “Officially.”
Doyoung paused for a moment. “I don’t want to fight with you either…" He sighed "Deal.” He pursed his lips and nodded eventually, still unable to say anything. That made you smile. You always found the way he bit his lips cute. You used to tease him and say he looked like a bunny for it. Oh and how he loved it. How you’d cup his cheeks and kiss his nose. How you’d cuddle his head into your chest, how you’d talk to him. He loved everything you did. And he still did. Doyoung froze. God, when was the last time he had made you smile? He found himself mesmerized, unable to look away from your face. He missed your smile, he missed this, he missed you.
For you, that moment lasted only seconds, yet for Doyoung, an eternity had already passed before you pat his arm and turned to leave.
“Hey y/n!” He blurted out, making you stop in your tracks. You turned to face him, and in that moment he could have sworn time stopped. You were beautiful, it was just when he saw you for the first time. He had fallen in love all over again. “For what it's worth, I really did love you. You made me the happiest person I'd been in years. I would have crossed the ocean for you, and I still would. I'm sorry I never found a way to let you know that."
“Thank you for saying that, Doyoung.”
"I'm sorry I didn't say more. Please believe me."
Maybe it was something about the way his eyes turned glassy, or the way he had an expression on his face you've only seen once in your entire time knowing him. But for the first time in a long time, you saw the Doyoung you fell in love with. "I believe you."
"Goodbye, Doyoung."
"Goodbye, Y/n."
(this may or may be part of a draft im currently writing ok bye)
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neteyamssyulang · 2 months
Note
You should do a part 2 where lily gets attached to neteyam and because of this, reader and neteyam started dating!!
⟢ A Miracle ⟢
⟢ Part 2 ⟢
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⟢ Pairing: Neteyam x fem scientist reader ⟢
⟢ Part 1 here ⟢
⟢ Summary: Since you keep saying no to her seeing Neteyam again, Lily takes things into her own hands.
⟢ Warnings: None just fluffy, Maybe lily being a lil match maker, Neteyam being a complete sweetie, reader feeling she’s not good enough for neteyam.
⟢ Word count: 1,151 ⟢
⟢ Translation(s): hì'i 'aw -> little one, syulang -> flower, yawne -> beloved.
⟢ Tagging: @teyamshuman
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It's only been maybe a month or so since the incident, You haven't taken Lily outside the lab ever since then, much to her dismay. She's constantly been asking to go out and find him.
"But mama" she pouted "I wanna see tall man again." Sighing, you scooped your daughter into your arms before sitting down on your bed "I know baby, but I can not risk losing you like last time."
Every time you said that it broke your heart, you hated seeing your daughter upset. Especially when she starting crying while saying "I hate you! I wish daddy was here!"
You know she didn't mean it but it doesn't mean it hurt any less, eventually it got to a point where your daughter once again did not listen and snuck out the shack while you were in the room folding clothes.
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Neteyam sighed as he sat back against a tree, eating some yovu fruit. Something’s been off with him ever since he met you and your daughter, like he couldn’t stop thinking about you guys.
He missed the little girl who he wished was his own, she was so adorable and looked so much like you. Too lost in his own thoughts, he didn’t even hear Lily coming till she practically jumped on him.
Neteyam yelped till he realized who it was “Neteyam!” Lily giggled, throwing her small arms around his neck. Whereas he was happy to see her, he wondered what she was doing out here.
“How did you find me hì'i 'aw?” He asked softly, Lily leaned back a bit “You know me see you from my room right? You large self gives you away.”
The omaticaya raised a hairless brow “Are you calling me fat syulang?” Neteyam had not noticed she could see him, he swears he’s not stalking he just likes to watch over you guys to make sure your ok that’s all.
Lily thought for a moment before nodding “Your huge Nete.” Neteyam pouted as she poked his belly “Am not”, “Are too”, “Am n o t” he huffed, taking a bite of the fruit, he can’t believe he’s arguing with a child.
“Are too” Lily snatched the fruit away from him and ran back towards the shack, Neteyam quickly got up following her “Hey! You come here!”
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Once you were done folding, you walked out the room only to be met with the airlock opening with Neteyam and Lily running out. Spotting you, she quickly ran to hide behind you while sticking her tongue out at Neteyam.
“What the hell is going on?” You looked over at Neteyam, crossing your arms. He put his hands up in surrender “I was just spending time with Lily, till she took my fruit and ran here.”
You sighed looking down at your daughter “Lily, give the nice man his fruit back so he can be on his way.” Neteyam’s tail lowered at this, surely he thought you may have missed him too but guess not.
Lily shook her head while pushing you towards the na’vi, “I don’t want him to go mama.” You were about to protest when she gave you a hard enough shove, sending you tumbling into his arms.
Neteyam was shocked to say the least, he looked from you then to Lily who gave him a thumbs up before running to her room, closing the door.
“Um, you can let me go now” you spoke softly patting his chest. “Oh, right sure” Much to his dislike, Neteyam let you go, watching as you stumbled a bit but regained balance once more.
You couldn’t deny that you had small feelings for him but how would it even work out? He was na’vi and you were only a mere human. Not to mention he was future olo’eyktan, he needed a strong partner, one his people would actually approve of.
Not wanting to stay where he wasn’t welcome, Neteyam turned to leave when he felt a hand brushing against his side,“Wait, please” You spoke, moving infront of him.
“No, I get it” he shrugged “I can stay away from Lily if that is what you wa-” “Jus say chu like her and she’ll admit she likes you!” Lily shouted from her room.
Neteyam’s face turned a deep shade of purple “Uhm, I..” he was at a loss for words.“Lily quiet!” You shouted back, making her giggle.
“Do you?” He asked after a moment of silence, looking back at him yoi slowly nodded “I do, but I cannot be with you. Im just a human.”
You could see his tail swishing angrily at your words, “I could care less if your a human, I love you y/n.. and I love your daughter as if she was my own, I would do anything to protect the both of you.”
He moved closer, cupping your face with his large hands “Please yawne, let me prove I can treat you and your daughter right”
Tears were streaming down your face at this point, you wanted nothing more than to accept but your worries still got the best of you “But what if the clan does not accept us? Accept me?”
Neteyam frowned, he carefully picked you up and sat down on the couch with you on his lap, “They will, I know they will accept you and Lily just like how I did. My mother already knows about you two and you know how she is, don’t you?”
You gulped silently nodding your head “I do, yes.” Everyone knows that Neytiri is not fond of humans, she can only tolerate them to a certain degree. “Well, because I mentioned how fond I am of you and Lily, she has agreed to meet you two and promises she’ll be nice.”
“But that is only if you are ok with it” he added on, taking one of your hands in his and bringing it to his lips placing a kiss ontop it. Your heart fluttered at this, never had anyone done something like this for you before. Lily’s grandma on her fathers side hated you with a passion, she managed to brainwash lily’s father into leaving you, claiming your nothing but a waste of his time.
Of course you never told Lily that though, you didn’t want her to think it was her fault. Neteyam doing all this for you really showed you how much he cared and was willing to risk, all for you and your daughter. “I’m fine with it, and I would love to give us a chance” you finally spoke.
A smile tugged at Neteyam’s lips and before you knew it, they captured yours in a soft kiss with his arms wrapped around you. From the hallway you could hear a faint “Ew” followed by a door closing.
Breaking the kiss, Neteyam rested his forehead against yours “Thank you.. I promise you won’t regret this.”
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crazilust · 1 year
Text
Astro observations - ❣️ Luuuuv edition❣️
i'm currently going thru a break up and i felt like shit talking. will these my most objective observations? yeaaaaa. maybe not. feel free to argue with me, though.
If you want me to analyze you and your partner's chart, or your chart, or your crush's chart, I offer that for 10-15$ sooooo y'know
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Whenever entering a relationships, look at these placements within yourself and your future partner : your mercury sign (this will be important in arguments), your moon sign (will this person be able to fulfill your emotional needs?) and your venus sign (do you guys have the same perception of an healthy relationship?)
I actually do believe that when it comes to relationships, you need to have at least a few similar placements or at the very least same elements. i know they say opposite attracts, but in my humble opinion, similar stick together. Earth signs will always prioritize a stable, solid foundations and might get hurt by an Air sign's volatility.
Virgos judge way too much when it comes to relationships. I'd say unhealed, un evolved Virgos. Their perfectionism can get really suffocating when it is projected onto others and honestly, until they're healed and can accept their own flaws, it can really ruin the other person's self esteem
I've already talked about 12th house relationships in one of my earlier posts, but let me go back to this (now that i'm done with mine LMAOOOO). This ain't for the weak. 12th house is the house of hidden enemies. Unless you both accept that the other person triggers your deepest insecurities, you will hurt eachother and in that case, it's better to simply leave and learn your lesson
A Pisces mercury would do better be with other water signs mercury. They tend to talk in images and in a vague way, and their words always get distorted. I feel like another water sign would have less trouble understanding the feeling behind the weird words of a pisces mercury.
Another aspect that is important when it compatibility is the rising! Rising sign doesn't only represent appearances, it litteraly affects your whole chart. It talks about your values, your way of viewing life and navigating it. A Taurus rising will view life in a way that is completely different to a Leo rising, for example (while they may share similarities, sometimes it creates unnecessary conflicts)
Scorpios do get a bad rep in relationships and most of the times, it's because you've been on the other end of their wrath and that's the only thing you can remember. I've been badly burned by a Scorpio but that doesn't mean it'll take away their devotion, loyalty and pure love that I could experience with them. Not everyone will be compatible with a Scorpio, because it is intense, but being truly loved by a Scorpio is something everybody should experience
Air signs are mostly associated with relationships, friendships, flings. They sometimes get a bad rep that they're not loyal, they're not faithful. Unfortunately, I'm not here to demystify that, BUT! I'll say this: air sign are way less comfortable in relationships that they tend to appear. Most air signs have a deep wounded relationships with themselves. They simply have learned that in order not to deal with that, they could project it onto other people and/or play a role. Most people don't even notice and they get to stay in denial. Aquarius are scared they won't bring any value to the world, Geminis are scared of getting to know themselves and if they'll ever truly fit in somewhere and Libras are scared of their own flaws and would much rather fix themselves through a relationship. They're. running. from. themselves.
Will you ever truly get to know a Sagittarius in a relationship? Only if you're willing to spend most of the time playing the sweet gymnastic of : was this a lie or was this the truth ? Remember that they're ruled by Jupiter and they naturally have an inflated ego. The lies doesn't necessarily come from a bad place, per se, but much more a desire to always look good in someone's eyes.
I'll end with this: I don't actually believe that you shouldn't go through a relationship because of someone's sign or chart. BUT. These are energies that both of y'all will project. If you don't work on it, if you ignore it, if you pretend... They will play out.
--------------------------------
Yea. That's it for me. The day before Valentine's day. I'm not as sad as I thought I would be because I actually do feel better without them. This was a karmic relationship and I've learned my lesson.
I've missed you guys,
Dolly.
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moodymisty · 4 months
Note
“He was always heavier than his brothers. His armor had to be adjusted three different times to fit him as he outgrew it.”
“His armor might be cold, but astartes run hot; Like their blood is boiling, so beneath that metal chill is the heat from the skin visible on his face and neck. You think if the cathedral was any colder, his hot breath would be visible.”
Our black templar bf is large and warm??? Everyone in the reblogs is talking about sleeping with him, while I’m thinking about how nice it must be to sleep (nap, rest, snooze) with him. That man is a human version of a heated weighted blanket! The cuddle sessions with him must be astonishingly good!!
You're thinking good thoughts, anon. Honestly other than the interface ports, a big ol' space marine would be a fantastic cuddle partner in the cold. But maybe that's just me deluluing.
Also I know writing requests are closed because of my backlog, but I just really wanted to do this. So enjoy.
Warnings: Unnamed Black Templar from this fic/Fem!Reader, Possessiveness, Size difference, General 40kness, A very rough drabble so plz forgib
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The wind outside howls, battering against walls much less suited for keeping heat comfortably indoors.
To think, you would now very much prefer to return to the Sigismund's Oath instead of having to face weather significantly more severe than just the cold hollowness of the ship. At least he is of a high enough rank that he's allowed a barracks of his own; You don't know how you'd feel in a hall with ten other astartes.
If you already feel like some sort of prized animal in the brief moments you're around them, you can't imagine how that would feel. Particularly if your only protector had to leave you alone.
Suddenly you look up as the only door opens, teeth clattering against each other. You neck hurts from how tense it's been, toes curled in worn shoes as your body desperately tries to keep the most important parts warm.
He enters, no longer in his armor and now sports the loose cloth trousers and robing astartes usually do when out of their ceramite gear. You can see the scars that are scattered over his skin; An untold amount from both battle and his creation.
You rub your hands together fast to try and warm them, before sticking them between your thighs. He watches with that same stoic, unreadable expression.
"You're cold." He says it so matter of fact, you can't help but purse your lips to avoid smiling. You nod and try to hold back the clattering of your teeth.
"I'll be fine. I just need to get used to it." You'll be here awhile is the assumption, so 'getting used to it' is going to be a necessity.
He walks closer to where you sit on his temporary bed. Important enough that he couldn't remain stationed on the ship until needed, but not enough that he couldn't be relieved of duty a moment of actual rest. For a brief moment, you wonder what he's like in battle.
Coming closer to you he in one fell swoop sits down onto the bed, making you to wobble.
"Come," He says, looking at you.
When you freeze for a moment, he speaks again with more words an a more exasperated tone. "Are you like my battle brothers from Inwit now, and prefer the cold?"
As of late he's becoming a bit more talkative around you- though you suppose 'talkative' might still be a bit of a stretch. Out of the many things, humor was not one of the skills bestowed upon them by his Primarch Dorn's genes. At least from the stories and scripture he's taught you as of yet.
Quickly you shuffle closer to him, and he grasps your arm tightly and pulls you against his chest. You quickly adjust in his lap with your legs pulled closed to you. He sleeps sitting- unsurprising to you given his history- with his dagger in arms reach. You suppose this is the most natural extension of that, curled in an almost upright fetal position.
Other than his interface ports pressing against your skin he is overwhelmingly warm, and within moments it feels like you're barely even cold anymore. Astartes and their blood, you swear it almost feels like it's boiling. No wonder he pays the cold no mind.
His massive hand covers good portion of your upper thigh, as he keeps you held close. His nearly inhuman amount of muscle isn't as uncomfortable as you'd thought it would be, as your shift your hands.
It's comfortable and snug, but you doubt you'd be able to leave now even if you'd wanted to.
Your shoulders relax a bit now that you're no longer shivering, and safely in the arms of your Black Templar, you finally feel like you can fall asleep. Even if you'd been warm, the idea of doing so in an unknown place with the one who'd brought you here no where in sight isn't a good one.
You know that unless they suddenly have need of him, he'll have five hours of sleep. You'll have the same, though unlike him you have to daily, whereas he can apparently stay awake for days at a time. Another odd quirk.
You don't know if he's asleep as it's impossible to tell, but you fall asleep not long after, finally warm and comfortable.
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musings-of-a-rose · 6 months
Text
Falling Slowly - Chapter 1
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Pairing: Tommy Miller x f!reader
Word Count: 2000+
Rating: Mature - 18+ ONLY!
Warnings: Just like ao3, “creator chooses not to use warnings.” If you click Keep Reading, that means you agree that you’re the age to handle mature themes. Also by clicking Keep Reading, you understand warnings may not be complete in order to avoid spoilers for the story. 
Notes:This started as a simple idea for Tommy. He had different ideas and I can’t say no to those freckles and smile. Thanks to @mermaidxatxheart for helping me get unstuck. You always have such great ideas!
And a big thanks to @wyn-n-tonic for helping me form thoughts and give this a little shape. I hope I can be a quarter as talented as you one day!
**If you want to be added to the taglist, join here or let me know!
❤If you enjoy the fic, please consider giving me a warm beverage! (It is not required in any way!)
**Reader is not described. Divider made by @benkeibear
Main Masterlist
Falling Slowly Masterlist
Tommy Miller Masterlist
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It’s crowded in here tonight. Not quite theme park during season full, but close enough. I wouldn’t be here if I didn’t seriously need a drink after the day I had at work. And this bar was the closest place to home that was still open.
Or maybe I just pulled into the first place I found.
I somehow manage to score a seat at the crowded bar, sliding quickly onto the stool that’s still warm from its previous occupant. I raise my hand to the bartender and she nods, taking another 2 orders before taking mine.
“Rum and Coke. Less Coke.”
She smiles, tossing me a wink before she walks off to make the drinks. I have to admit I’m mildly impressed by her memory, as she had taken at least 10 drink orders before mine and memorized them all. No wonder she has an overflowing tip jar.
It probably helps that she has giant tits too.
I take a few sips, letting the warmth of the rum spread through me, loosening my muscles before setting the glass down. The music playing is stupid loud, but the people seem to like it, jamming their sweaty bodies together in a tight group in the middle of the dance floor. 
I’ll admit, this isn’t typically my scene. But the patients today were really on their game of trying to piss me off and I decided I earned a drink. I just wish I’d known how loud it would be. Thankfully, I'm not on call tomorrow.
“Hello, gorgeous.”
A man sits next to me, shifting his body so he’s facing me. When I don’t respond, he repeats himself, a little louder.
“I’m ok, thanks.” I try to let him down easy, but turning down a man who’s tipsy and looking to get laid is not an easy thing to do.
“Not yet you aren’t. We haven’t even spoken yet.” 
Sighing, I turn my head to look at him. He’s all blue eyes and light hair, a slight tan on his face but one from hanging out at the pool and not from manual labor. I’d be surprised if this guy had to work for anything.
“I’m flattered, really, but I just want to drink in peace.”
“Oh, come on now, gorgeous. A little conversation won’t hurt.”
“Really, I’m good.” I turn my head back to my drink, removing my hand from the top of it to take a sip. 
“You look stressed. I can help with that.” 
His hand finds its way to my thigh, squeezing me slightly. But before I can do anything, a different, larger hand removes it for me. 
“She said she was done talkin’.”
This new guy is gorgeous. Broad shoulders, a barrel chest, arms that could totally lift me, coupled with beautiful black curls, freckles speckled across his olive skin, accentuating his eyes, which I'm sure are normally kind when they aren't staring down an asshole. 
The man who was talking to me yanks his hand away and stands up, the bar stool scraping across the floor. 
"Fuck off, friend."
"Not until you leave the lady alone."
The man puffs up his chest, sticking his pointer finger out, jabbing at the man with the curls that I'd love to touch. 
"Why don't you fuck off so you don't get hurt, hhmm? Me and the lady were getting along just fine."
The man with the curls looks at me and I shake my head, both to say I'm never going anywhere with this man and please don't get yourself hurt.
"Doesn't look like she wants to go with you."
The man glances over at me and I fix my face into what I hope is confidence. 
"No way. I'm not going anywhere with you."
The man narrows his eyes. "I bought you a drink. The least you could do is come home with me."
Curls laughs and oh, I would love to hear that sound again. "Imagine being such a dick that you think forcing a drink upon a woman entitles you to sleep with her."
The man draws his fist back and quickly releases, punching Curls straight in the nose, his head flying backwards. He stumbles but doesn't go down, his hand swiping at his nose to see its already bleeding. The man tries to grab for me but Curls stops him, landing several good punches of his own. 
"Stop! He's not worth it!" I try to step in but it's pointless. I can't get close enough to stop anything. 
A minute or so later it doesn't matter because the cops show up, separating the men and loading them both into the back of cop cars, Curls meeting my eyes and giving me a small smile before he's pushed into the cab. 
"Excuse me," I stop one of the cops. "Which jail is he going to?" 
"Travis County. The one on 10th."
"Thanks."
The men load up and take off as I turn to walk to my car and head to the police station. When I arrive, the desk officer tells me I'll have to wait a while for them to be processed, but that they will both make bail.
So I wait. 
Several hours later, the kind desk officer rouses me awake and let's me know I can post bail. I do and they ask me to wait in the lobby while they bring him to the front. When he comes around the corner, he's talking to the officer that's escorting him.
"Yes sir, but can you tell me who posted my bail?" 
The officer nods in my direction while extending his arm out, indicating that the man should proceed without him. Curls turns in the direction the officer pointed him and locks eyes with me as I stand, folding my jacket over my arm. He smiles as we walk towards each other, making my cheeks feel warm under his gaze. 
"You bailed me out?"
"I had to. You saved me."
God his smile is like sunshine. "Oh, you didn't owe me anything, darlin'." 
"I definitely did. That guy was a creep and who knows what else he could've done?"
"Well at least let me pay you back the bail?"
I wave my hand at him. "No way."
"There must be some way for me to pay you back?"
I gesture at his face. "How about you let me take care of that?"
He touches his nose and looks at his hand, seeing some dried blood. "Oh, no that's ok. I'll just go clean up-"
I step closer to him, hand stretching towards his face. "I can't believe they didn't get you checked out."
"Ah I'll be alright."
"Stop arguing and come with me."
He looks at me, all brown eyes and tiny freckles, a small smile tugging up the corners of his mouth. "Yes ma'am."
Oh I am so fucked. 
He follows me to my car and gets in the passenger side. As I turn the key on the ignition, I realize I don't even know his name. 
"I'm Tommy by the way." 
I tell him my name. "But my friends call me Daisy."
"Well it's nice to meet you, Daisy."
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We make it back to my place, as his truck had been impounded and so unavailable until morning. Tommy tries to decline my offer of a place to stay while he waits for his truck, until I ask if I'm so offensive looking that he wouldn't want to come up to my apartment. 
"No way, ma'am. Quite the opposite."
He follows me upstairs, kicking off his boots when I kick off my shoes. He looks around nervously and I see him scanning all the windows and doors. 
"You serve?" I ask. 
He looks at me, eyebrows raised. "Yeah. Desert Storm. How'd you know?"
"My dad always scans a place when he enters it. I'm assuming you'll want your back to a wall too? Exits visible?"
"I…yeah. That would be preferable."
I gesture to my couch, which is against the wall. "Have a seat. Let me get my first aid kit."
I grab my kit and some ice in a bag and sit next to Tommy, who turns his broad chest towards me when he sits up. His eyes glance behind me at my bookshelf.
"That shelf looks like it's on its last leg."
I chuckle. "Probably is. I've had it forever and it wasn't high quality to begin with. Just some Ikea shit."
He groans, like I’ve just offended his entire ancestor line. "No, not Ikea! I could make you some new ones."
"What, are you a carpenter or something?"
"Similiar. Contractor. But I do know my way around wood."
"So do I."
Tommy shifts his legs at my implication and I smirk, dabbing at the now dried blood on his face, cradling his chin with my other hand. 
His eyes are on me, so close I can feel his breath puffing out against my skin and I feel heat starting to pool between my thighs.
"Pride and Prejudice?" He asks. 
"What?"
"On your shelf."
"Oh. Yeah. Haven't read it in a while but I was obsessed when I was little. Wait - have you read it?"
He smirks. "Are you surprised?"
"A little."
"My niece needed help with her book report. So I read it to be able to help her."
"You read an entire book to help your niece with a paper?"
"Yeah."
"That's really sweet. Not many people would do that."
"Oh I'm not many people."
"That's for sure.. hey Tommy, are you hungry? I have some pizza left over."
His eyes flick between mine, a soft smile appearing on his face.
"I love pizza."
"Great!" I move to the kitchen and start getting out the pizza, putting some slices on my pizza stone and turning on the oven to preheat it. 
"I rented the new X-Men movie from Blockbuster. Have you seen it?" I ask as the oven bings and I slide the pizza in it. 
"You managed to snag a copy?"
"I bribed the cashier."
He chuckles. "I haven't seen it yet."
"Ok cool. I'll put that on for us."
The pizza finishes reheating and I divvy it up, offering Tommy a beer. We sit on the couch, plates on the coffee table as I get out the DVD. Tommy whistles. 
"You got a DVD player?"
"Yeah. It was my one splurge on myself when I moved here. Well that and a new mattress."
I fast forward through the commercials, cursing the makers for not adding a "skip ad" button. 
"Is your boyfriend gonna be alright with us hanging out?"
“Yeah, no. I don’t have one of those.”
Tommy sits up a little straighter. “Oh? Why not?”
I shrug. “I just moved to a whole new city and wanted to settle in. I don’t like long distance because it just never works out. Plus I can’t deal with all the-” I twist my wrist in a circle “- neediness?”
Tommy chuckles. “Neediness?”
“Yeah. My job takes a lot out of me and honestly, I don’t have the mental space for a boyfriend right now. That’s why I like you.”
Tommy points to himself, eyebrows raised in question. “Me?”
“Yeah. I’ve only known you a few hours but you’ve already saved my ass and don’t act all high and mighty. Plus you have great taste in books and movies.”
Tommy and I finish watching the movie and I drive him back to the impound lot now that it’s open. We exchange numbers and promise to hang out again, both of us missing the glances in the other’s direction. Although I’m pretty sure he caught me staring at his ass when he was standing at the checkout counter. 
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“So you’re just….friends?”
Tommy nods, taking another sip of his beer. “That’s what I said, Joel.”
Joel studies his brother, his eyes narrowing. “She pretty?”
“So pretty she’d make a man plow through a stump.”
The corner’s of Joel mouth tick up for a second before he fixes a stern look on his face. “Be careful, Tommy. It’s hard for men and women to be friends if they’re attracted to each other. Someone’s bound to get hurt.”
“That would mean she’s attracted to me, big brother, and there’s no way. She ain’t lookin’.”
“Mmmhmm.”
“‘Sides, don’t you want a good example set for Sarah? That boys and girls can just be friends?”
Joel shakes his head, pointing at Tommy. “I don’t want her near any boys for any reason for her entire life.”
>>Chapter 2>>
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General Taglist:
@frankie-catfish-morales @chaoticgeminate @janebby @astoryisaloveaffair @balekanemohafe @greeneyedblondie44 @hoeforthefictional @marvelousmermaid @hauntedmama @giuliarogers-blog @icanbeyourjedi @wretchedmo @sunnshineeexoxo @livingmydreams13 @adventures-of-a-noodle @sara-alonso @theewokingdead @punkerthanpascal @giggly-otter @f0rever15elf @phandoz @dirtytissuebox @gallowsjoker @lovesbiggerthanpride @sarahmilesbendrix @booksarekindaneat @mrsudontknowme @swol-bear @charlispersonallyhell @xoxabs88xox @amneris21 @gooddaykate @alindeluce @avengers-fixation @paintballkid711 @harriedandharassed   @ladykatakuri @marrianena  @practicalghost @withakindheartx @batdarkladyvampir @justanotherkpopstanlol   @mermaidxatxheart @alexxavicry @ichigodjarin @justreblogginfics @sullyosully @kmc1989
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icannotpickanamewtf · 10 months
Text
The Day The Music Died (PART FOUR)
(PART ONE) (PART TWO) (PART THREE)
Possessive!Spot x femSpider!Reader & Possessive!Miguel x femSpider!Reader
Summary: Grumpy reader is freaking the fuck out. You meet a certain supervillain +his sworn nemesis leader and things get a little darker.
Warnings: Violence, Possesive behavior, obsession, miguel lolll, bad commuinication from reader. Panicccc.
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Was it bad that you could now stick to any surface you wanted?
Nah, just a little weird. 
Was it worse that you could hear, smell, taste, and feel something that was miles away?
Yes. Fucking yes.
You could not get any peace and quiet after the incident. 
Even if you dragged your pillow over your ears or stuffed them with cotton, it was futile. 
Ignore the problem and it’ll go away.
Walking to work became more of a hassle when everything was so…much.
At least your wrists started to hurt less, but they still were sensitive as fuck. 
Finally, you had a day off and what did you decide to do?
Find Spot. 
Hopefully before this navy and red spandex creep found you first. 
——
After stalking places where a supposed ‘supervillain’ would be, you came across the same abandoned park you were at a few months ago. 
When it all went to shit.
The warehouse in the forest caught your attention, and so you strutted over. 
You didn’t even have to look below your feet to make sure your didn’t trip. You had impeccable balance. 
The trees watched over you like all those people when you were bit. The shadows comforted you. Birds chirped in the distance and you could hear the sound of horns honking in traffic behind you. 
The warehouse had overgrown plants and cracks in the walls. 
The perfect hideout.
The door was adjacent and was detached from its hinges from years of no use. 
When you stepped inside, you weren’t even stunned to see the pale white lanky man tinkering on the floor. 
Spot talked to himself a lot, you noticed. 
“Maybe if I could just–No…no that wouldn’t work.” and “I’ll show them…I’ll show her.” were the most frequent thoughts that were spoken into the abandoned building. 
He didn’t notice you come in, you were so fucking quiet nowadays that you couldn’t even hear your own footsteps. 
And you were the one with the abnormal hearing. 
“Spot.” 
This launched him out of his science and he quickly swiveled to look at you. 
“Woah–What–What are you doing here?!” Spot spat at you as you stood with your arms by your side. 
Honestly, you weren’t all too sure yourself. 
You were scared.
“I’m scared.” 
                              …
It was silent. You could hear a pin drop. No literally, you could actually hear a pin drop from inside the city. Miles fucking away. 
You kept a straight face as a tear slowly fell from your eye. 
“I don’t know what to do. I’m scared.” 
“What?” 
Spot just stood in an amazed shock. You assumed that if he had eyes, they’d be wide. 
“I’m weird now.” You hoped he wouldn’t make you talk more than you needed to. You were already embarrassed from needing help.
You were so fucking pathetic.
“Ok–You just–you’re what?!” He raised his voice, causing you to flinch since it seemed way louder than it actually was. “You are an absolute–why did you come to me?”
“I don’t know.” That was a lie. You did know. 
“What do you mean weird? Are you just–Are you trying to screw with me?!” Spot just seemed to get even more angry. 
You were just so tired. 
You didn’t care.
“I lied. I do know.” Always honest, you had to keep being honest. 
“Then why?! Because you made it clear you didn’t want me!” Static raised between you two as he spoke vigorously. Was it weird that he seemed more…hole-y than he was before? 
“I don’t wanna say it.”  
You really didn’t. 
”Say. It.”
“No.” Your voice was down to a whisper, everything was too much. 
”SAY IT. I’M NOT SOME WEAK–“
“I’m so scared, Spot. I need help. Please.” You were almost sobbing now. You were just…blank. You couldn’t bring yourself to even yell back. It was like someone stole your batteries and left you with no energy. 
“It’s all wrong. Everything is too much. I can stick to walls. My wrists ache. I can hear your skin shifting against itself. I feel like I’m falling and always on the edge.” 
”What–“ Spot seemed to calm at your admission, only slightly. 
“I just want to disappear.” You didn’t even look at him, you couldn’t. 
You felt awful. Bile rose in your throat as you spilt out your thoughts. You hated being like this. 
“I feel sick.” 
You don’t care. You really don’t.
“…I think maybe there’s something wrong with me.” 
—————
Hot tears trailed down as you stood with a blank expression. Did you think some inter dimensional demon-looking dork could help you?
What have you become? An idiot for sure. 
Or a monster.
You didn’t really know how to cry. It was hard for you to even comprehend it. It had been so long since you felt…since you felt anything. 
You were exhausted, and so done with this. 
“I’m sorry.” Spot hesitantly approached you. 
“Ok.”
“No really, I’m sorry–“
“Ok.” You wiped at your eyes, rubbing them repeatedly to flush away the evidence that you even cried in the first place. 
“Don’t cut me off. I–I need to know what’s happening to you. In order to help, yeah?” He treated you like a scared animal, as he delicately put one foot in front of the other. 
He put you on edge. The goosebumps returned even stronger as he got closer, like your body was warning you of how dangerous this guy could be. 
“Yeah.” 
<em> You don’t care. You just want to get this over with.</em>
“So…” Spot waved his arms in front of you, now about three feet away. You could hear his portals that danced across his skin. 
Right. You needed to tell him. 
Tell him what? That you were going insane?
“Who are you.” You just wanted to move on, you wanted to know he wasn’t going to hurt you.
You were too vulnerable right now, it wasn’t safe. 
Spot seemed a bit stunned by your curiosity, knowing that you hate talking. 
“I-I’m The Spot–“ 
“No. Who are you.” You stopped looking down and stared at this face-hole thingy. You needed something against him if he could have anything against you.
“Johnathan. Doctor Johnathan Ohnn. I worked at Alchemax before…before I became this.” 
Wow. He was a doctor? Like a mad scientist? 
“What do you want.” You just needed to know more. 
<em> You don’t care. You really don’t care. </em>
“Spider-man. He made me into…this. I’ve got nobody because of him. Not even my own parents love me.” 
There was so much I wanted to say. 
I’m sorry. How are you dealing with that? Can I do anything for you? I’m so sorry. I wish you were treated differently. I know what that’s like. Who is Spider-man? Could he be related to the spider in the exhibit? To the guy following me?
“What’s wrong with you?”
Oh. Right. That. 
“I can hear things. A lot of things. Too many…things.” You didn’t want to give too much detail. He could still use that to his advantage and hurt you. 
You didn’t want to be hurt. 
“I can…climb up things. With my bare hands. I don’t get cold anymore. I can run really fast and lift up my bed with only my pinky finger.” You listed everything, trying to keep it as vague as possible. 
Spot was inching even closer to you. 
Your skin bristled at the lack of distance between you. 
“My wrists they…they have bumps on them that…that shoot out things. Like rope. They hurt a lot and–“ You didn’t want to mention how sensitive they were, Spot could use that weakness if you let him know. 
You don’t care. You really don’t.
“–and yeah. It’s all…It’s all wrong.” 
Spot was standing right there, you swear you could feel his breath(?) or air coming out of his face hole. “Can you show me? Your wrists? It could help me–“ 
“No.” No. You can’t be weak now. He knows too much. 
“Yes. C’mon, I just need to see them once and then I think I can produce a theory by what you’ve told me. Just once.” 
You don’t care. You don’t care. You don’t care–
“Fine. Just…don’t touch the bump.” You lifted your wrists and pushed back your long-sleeved to show the little indent that reminded you of what was wrong with you. 
You flinched back a little when his white hands completely covered your palm. 
A faded memory flashed in your skull…
Spots large palms engulfed yours completely, but for real. Like you literally could not see a bare centimeter of your hand underneath his. 
He seemed to notice with how he lingered with both of his hands onto of yours. You could even say he seemed enraptured and pleased with this new found discovery.
No. No don’t think about that. 
Spot’s pointer finger went to poke around the bump, not touching it like you said. 
When he grazed over it, you let out a soft shudder and blushed. That made you feel something. Something you don’t want to feel.
You tore your hand out of his and held it to your chest, your heart thumped violently. Spot seemed frozen in place by the sound you just released. He put his own hand to his side, curling it into a tight fist like he was holding back something. 
“Spot, don’t touch it. It’s…” You couldn’t say it.
“Sensitive?” He asked.
Yes. Very. 
“Did it feel nice?”
What. What did this guy just say? 
“Stop. What’s wrong with me?” You just wanted to leave. You were too weak right now. 
“Were you…bit? By a spider?” 
How’d he know? 
You nodded softly and kept your gaze anywhere but him. 
“No…No way…” Spot was speechless in front of you. 
“What? What’s wrong with me?” You were starting to get annoyed. This was too much. It was all too much. 
“It was supposed to be Peter. Not you.” 
…What? 
“What? Peter?” 
“You weren’t supposed to get bit. Thats not–Thats not how this works! It was supposed to be Peter! Not you!” Spot seemed frantic and panicked as he paced around the warehouse. 
“Ok.” You didn’t care. You just wanted to leave.
“No…this wasn’t supposed to happen! Have you–Have you seen anyone that looks strange lately?!” Spot went to grab your shoulders but you took a step back to dodge the touch. 
You weren’t good with touch. 
Or words. 
Or people.
Or anything. 
An image of navy blue and sharp red highlights danced in your mind. 
“Yes.”
“Shit. This–This isn’t good…just when I thought I had something going! Way to go Spot–Jesus–“ Spot railed off and started hitting himself in the face like some kind of punishment. 
“Stop. Don’t hurt yourself.”
You honestly don’t care. You really don’t care.
He didn’t seem to hear you over him whispering to himself so you reached out and yanked his hand down. Maybe with a little more strength than you thought humanly possible, but it stopped him. 
You let go immediately after he looked down at your hands that were intertwined. 
“Don’t do that.” You just stood there. 
You were really tired. 
You don’t care anymore. 
“Oh–Oh okay…sorry to worry you…I didn’t know you cared for me like that I would’ve–“ 
“Ok.” 
You don’t care but ok. Sometimes it’s better to just shrug everything off. 
You were too shut down to notice how his body quivered at your touch. 
“This…This could work out. You can be my partner in crime! We can, you know, commit like–crimes together! This can work!” 
Was that a question or was that a statement? 
“The Society hasn’t even gotten you yet! You’re all mine!–“ 
What?
Spot sputtered as he noticed your eye brows rise exponentially, “I mean not like that but as in your like my own–like my own Spider-Girl!” 
“No.”
You just wanted out. You didn’t want to be anywhere anymore. You don’t care.
“What do you mean no?” Spots head tilted in question. 
“I am going home now.” This meeting was so useless. It just made you weak. 
Spot reached out for you and managed to grab your arm before you slipped away. “No you aren’t.”
“Yes I am.” You were done with this. 
“No! The Society is after you now, they’ll take you from–“ 
‘From me?’ is that what he was going to say? 
Spot just held your arm, the grip would’ve probably broken your arm if you weren’t part fucking spider. 
“I’m going home.” 
Static ran out the warehouse and a pitch black hole seemed to enlarge on spots chest.”No! You can’t leave again! They’ll–”
A big crash from one of the broken windows rang out, your senses tingled as the new stranger ran up to spot and knocked Spot aside. The wall almost caved in with the impact from Spots abnormal size. 
Owch. 
“You’re coming with me.” 
You looked away from Spot with a wince, you did not want to spend your day off like this. 
“No.” You were going home, duh.
The man in front of you was large, bulky. He wasn’t as tall as spot, but man, he was fucking huge. He was dressed in navy blue hologram-like suit material with sharp red accents. He seemed futuristic. 
The man spoke in a harsh tone, a lumberjack like voice. “I can help you, he can’t. He’s a–“ 
“NO. I won’t let you take her! She’s mine! You took everything from me! You won’t take her!”
Spot rammed into the man in front of you and began to pummel him with his fists as static rippled around you. 
This was too much. 
It was all too much. 
You were going to throw up. 
You don’t care.
So you walked out of the warehouse. Literally. There was no reason to stay. They were too busy fucking each other up that you just quietly stepped out. This was the only time you thanked your new powers for the fact you were deadly silent when you moved. 
Only to be knocked to the ground by a heavily pregnant woman. There were more? 
“Thank god LYLA called, you’re a tricky catch.” Honestly, strong respect to this expecting mother, you could barely get up from a cold a few days ago. 
You didn’t struggle. You just laid there awkwardly. 
“What’s going on?” You were starting to feel like you were on edge again. Like you were tipping and almost going to fall. 
You wrists ached. 
“You’re a spider-person now, hon. You’ve got a responsibility, even if it was a mess up that made you receive it.” Her suit was black and red with a white spider etched on the front. 
“I want to go home.” Always honest.
“You will. We just have to work some things out, that’s all.” 
“K.” Just get this over with. Just get this over this.
You really don’t care.
“Well…follow me then?” She opened a portal to what seemed like a…modern dimension? This was all so weird….
It didn’t look like Spots black holes. 
Wait–Spot. 
“What about Spot, and the weird man?” You were almost curious. 
You don’t care.
“They’ll…make up?” 
Yeah. That was totally a lie. 
“Ok.” 
You couldn’t care less.
“After you–“ the pregnant woman gestured to the portal. 
You just had to get bit by some fucked up spider. 
You looked behind you as you heard your name ring out the forest.
”STOP! DON’T GO IN–ergh–STOP SHE’S MINE–“ Spots voice strained against the sound of fists and walls crashing.
<em>You don’t care.</em>
“If I go in, can you not hurt him too bad?” You just didn’t like the sound of his voice when he screamed for you. 
It didn’t sound like Spot at all.
“Ok. I’ll tell Miguel to hold back a little, ok?” She just gestured to the portal again,
”NO! NONONO! STOP–I can take care of myself! Don’t go in! DON’T GO–“
Something wet fell down your cheek as you walked in the portal and didn’t look back. 
You don’t care.  
Later on, you realized that the ‘wet’ thing was a tear. 
What was happening to you?
TAGLIST: @arachnagirl--spidergirl , @naomeii, @thestealcrowalt ,@howlerwolfmax, @im00flynn
hey guys! Please leave me some reccomendations or comments on things you wanna see more of! There are tons of ways it could go!
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annknnwa · 9 months
Text
I’ve known Ona for years now, have been best friends since we were kids. Well to her at least, i was always in love with this girl. Always the bright sunshine of my life. But I was just her best friend, her bro, her platonic friend.
When she dating guys, I decided to turn to other things to distract myself. The hole I had in my heart that had been filled with love for her had to be filled instead with lust for others. I was constantly on tiktok watching thirst traps, trying to forget her.
Ona had started maturing into herself, being more confident, and well “growing” in other areas.
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She started dressing less like the girl I loved and more like the girsl I lusted for.
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Guy came and went, but the last one would be the storm that would finally break her. Her last boyfriend had cheated and she found out, they had broken up.
When I asked if she was okay, she sounded devastated, like her world was crashing down.
“Why does this keep happening? Is it me? Is something wrong with me?”
Remembering my unrequited love and my place as the best friend, I had to console her
“I’d never cheat on you if i were him, he was crazy to go for another woman, you’re so h-”
Caught myself before possibly turning my friendship weird. No way i could call her hot, how could I? Id have to explain that I was attracted to her, not as her best friend but more.
“i’m so what? Don’t be the next guy to lie to me too, You’re all I have left”
“You’re so… hot…”
Didn’t realise those words would send her spiralling, but in a different way
Only minutes later, I get a video of Ona, dancing just like the girls she knew I liked
“You always watch thirst traps right? on tiktok?”
“yeah but why did yo-“
“Am I hot? Hotter than the girls you always watch?”
I didn’t realise how much this meant to her
“I’ll be yours, just don’t look at anyone else, I don’t want it to happen again”
“Lets meet”
I don’t think we said more than 5 words. We drowned in each others pleasure. Skin to skin, body to body. We shared sweat, saliva, fluids more than we did words. We had known each other for forever, we didn’t need words to know what we wanted.
Every thrust, every pump filled Ona with what she thought was lust. Position after position, round after round, condom after condom. Then there was no more
“we ran out of condoms, maybe we should stop”
But she put me back inside of her
“Keep going, don’t stop, show me”
She wanted to be loved, but she’ll settle for lust, he had broken her, and I was all she had to fill that emptiness
“Please don’t stop”
But I loved her, I always have, and the thought that another person had hurt her this way, broke my heart.
“Wait if we keep going, ill-”
But it was too late, loving Ona, and being inside her, makes you a different person. It’s Ona after all, who could resist her.
“I’m- I’m gon- Im gonna cu”
Her walls clenched around me, encouraging me to fill her. Who am I to deny that? Her legs wrapping around me was the last straw. Missionary, no escape, no turning back. This was my chance to prove to her it wasn’t lust, it was years and years of love.
With one last thrust, I released it. Ropes painted her walls, filling her with my seed. Neither of us moved, filled with ecstasy. All that was moving was me still filling her up, her still clenching as she came harder as if my cum was a drug keeping her from calming down and our breathing.
“I’m sorry, I was just lonely and you were always so nice to me and”
Ona went on and on, same old same old, always spiralling after an event
I leaned in and kissed her on the lips. A soft one, not one out of lust but out of love.
“Stop, if I didn’t already like you, I wouldn’t stick by every bad decision you made”
That night was years ago now.
I had deleted tiktok, no more need for thirst traps
Ona stopped spiralling, she had me to keep her steady
and we stopped being best friends, instead we had become lovers. Active lovers. All it takes now is for Ona to send a video of her dancing to one of the trends on tiktok, for me to head to our nearest 7-11 to get a few protection items and we relive that night, over and over.
Although, we have been using condoms less and less, maybe we should look into baby items. Eh who cares, nothing a married couple can’t handle :)
My First actually story post! Thanks for reading! Little different from my usual reblogs and more immoral stuff. A wholesome one for a wholesome girl :)
Thanks to @ayyitsona for the request, pics and video are from her too. Check her out, you won’t be disappointed.
Story is purely fiction and only for fun. Send in your requests if you want one too! Dms open :)
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luimagines · 1 year
Note
How about a reader who seems to have no experience with a weapon, but come to find out is terrifyingly good with a bow.
Like not on Wild's level but definitely better than the majority of the chain.
Ooooooohhhh! I like that idea! Let's see if I can make something of it!
Masterlist
Content under the cut!
You were beginning to suspect that the boy were getting annoyed with you.
Not that they were ever to say that to your face, but you didn’t want them to come to your rescue all the time... and you didn’t think that they wanted to either.
That being said, you had asked to learn self defense. Sky was the one who more or less made the Master Sword and he’s had proper training in how to use it. You thought he would have been perfect to teach you.
And for all intents and purposes, he had been more than willing to help. He was patient and kind and what he said and how he did it made a lot of sense. The things is, after being thrown to the ground over twenty times and you did try for multiple days- bordering multiple weeks- you gave up.
You footwork was screwy at best. Your grip on the sword was subpar and frankly, you weren’t close to being as psychically strong as Sky to throw him off.
The next option was maybe something magical. Legend and Warrior have their magic sticks and stuff. You didn’t know what you were doing but you figured it was easier to just throw things at the monsters and let it stick than have an actual strategy.
That was shot down. Instantly.
Warrior tossed you the fire rod on a whim and you nearly burned the whole forest down. So naturally, you’ve been banned from touching all, if not, most magical items.
The boys were more than happy to agree, especially those who don’t really fancy the magic stuff anyway.
You thought about a boomerang. A lot of the boys had those and it wasn’t bladed or magical (at least it didn’t have to be) so you thought that would work just fine.
Hyrule agreed and tried to show you the basics. And for the most part, it seemed simple enough. Until you nearly took Time’s head off in the process and you were afraid of touching it ever since.
At this point you were running out of options. While the boys seemed to understand your willing to learn, they didn’t want you get hurt. You suspect that they just didn’t want to get hurt in the process of you learning. Which stung a little, to be honest.
You had thought of one last weapon that you could learn and you knew just the person to ask.
“Wild.” You whisper. “I wanna ask you something.”
Wild pauses and nods, standing up to follow you away from prying eyes and eager ears. “What is it?”
“Please show me how to use the bow.” You bow.
Wild blinks and tilts his head. “We told you that we could-”
“Please?” You ask again, cutting him off. “I have to try.”
Wild sighs and shakes his head. With one hand, he unhooks his sheikah slate and takes out a simple wooden bow. “If anyone asks, you say you just found this.”
You nod and take it gratefully.
Wild also takes out some of his normal arrows, handing a few to you. “We have at least an hour before the others start to worry about the two of us being alone.”
You bounce on the balls of your feet. Feeling giddy, you start to move the bow in your hands and play with the strong, getting a feel for it. 
Wild moves away and you see him set up a small tower of ice in one of the puddles nearby. You gape. How did he do that?
“Ok.” He says, hooking the slate back to his belt. “You see that? That’s your target.”
You notice it’s in the opposite direction of the group.
Wild comes in close and guides your hand to where they should rest on the bow. It feels right in your hands. You adjust your feet accordingly and steady yourself
Wild look pleased and hands you an arrow, setting it up against the notch and gently placing your fingers to hold it without injuring yourself. “Ok, there. Now aim and let go.”
You nod and look at the ice pillar in front of you. Pulling the arrow back again just like you’ve seen the boy do before, you let go.
It hits it.
You scream and jump in place. Your first reaction is you bring Wild into a hug, wrapping your arms around his neck. “I did! Look! I actually hit it!”
He laughs. “Good job. Do it again.”
You bounce back and take out on the arrows Wild gave you. You set yourself up just like before and fire again.
You split the arrow in twain.
You don’t react this time. You stare in shock just as Wild runs over to inspect it. He gets a stupid grin on his face and comes back to punch your shoulder. “Do it again.”
So you do.
“Again.”
Again.
“O-hohoho.” Wild looks giddy. “We have to show the others this. They’re never going to believe it.”
You look at the bow in your hands in shock. “I am a god.”
Wild starts laughing. “Please do against Twilight. I need to see him go down.”
You grin and nod. Do actually think you’ll be able to do so? No, not really. But Wild’s energy is contagious and it’s nice to have something work as nicely as this has after so many failed attempts.
So when you eventually set up a few target and go off against Twilight- recreating your first attempt. Legend losses a bet, Sky gets his money back and Time lets you set up the opportunity to practice with the bow you’ve more of less stolen from Wild at this point.
Given the smile on the Champion’s face when he turns to mock Twilight for not being able to do what you did, you don’t think he minds one bit.
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whumpshaped · 7 months
Text
i couldnt help it. prev masterlist
tw vampire whumper, begging, dehumanisation, threat of death, suggestive stuff but less so?? idk i lost sense of whats conventionally horny long ago, implied kidnapping
Beckett was just trying to get home. He wasn't coming from a night-out, his only sin was having worked late into the evening not even by his own choice. His desire to crawl into bed and hide under the covers was greater than it ever had been, and he knew no boss was going to make him stay after nightfall if he survived this.
The vampire had almost looked angry under that peaceful facade they put on, at least before he admitted he was terrified. That seemed to placate them somehow, and he wished he were smart enough to use that to get out of this hellish situation without fangs in his neck.
But they weren't going to kill him, right? They'd said no killing, if he kept quiet?
As the vampire's lips brushed against his neck and their cold breath washed over his skin, he could vividly imagine the creature opening their mouth, just about to bite– "Wait!" he blurted out, his voice a little too loud and making him flinch instead of his attacker. But the thing froze too, before they slowly pulled back, red eyes searching his features.
"Wait?" they repeated, sounding a little amused. Beck didn't think they'd ever been told to wait. "And whatever shall I wait for?"
He looked for an answer desperately, eyes darting between the vampire and the end of the alley. There wasn't a single soul around, and he couldn't come up with anything believable; but sticking with the truth hadn't hurt him before. The thing was looking for honest answers, right?
"I– I don't know, I'm sorry, I'm s-so scared–" he stammered, sniffling a little. "I'm so scared of dying– p-please, please promise me you'll let m-me go after, and I won't struggle, I–"
"Promise?" The vampire was stifling a laugh by the looks of it. "So I have to pay a price to be granted the privilege of drinking from you, a helpless mortal I could enthrall and drain and you would be none the wiser until you were drawing your last breath. Maybe not even then — maybe you'd drift peacefully... But you want me to promise you your life in exchange for a single bite."
Beck shrank under their gaze, squirming uncomfortably. He was helpless, that much was true, but at least the vampire didn't seem offended by his nervous blabbering. His stomach churned as he realised they might just be playing with their food, a cat lifting its paw only to see the mouse, blinded by its drive for survival, run straight into its other one.
"I just want to live," he whispered, and the vampire hummed thoughtfully.
"I could lie," they pointed out. "I could promise you anything and everything."
"B-but you don't have to–"
"I don't have to do anything. I don't have to lie, lure, enchant or poison– I don't have to listen to you."
"But you do," he breathed. "I d-don't know why, I don't know, I don't even know why you stopped, I know you didn't have to!" The vampire shushed him, and he realised with horror that he was slowly raising his voice. "I'm sorry–"
"I have not taken a single human without my powers before," the creature cut in, in a tone that was almost conspiratory; a secret shared between the two of them. "I must admit, it is refreshing to hear wants and needs that aren't aligned with my own, thus I was inclined to hear you out. And it is adorable that you have taken that to mean you have some sort of... leverage here. But let us not get carried away with that fantasy."
Beck choked on a sob, still unable to avert his eyes. So that was it? The vampire wanted to hear him out only to shatter his illusions and specifically deny him anything he might've hoped for? "Please?" he tried again, his voice trembling as much as his body. "I– you're right, I can't– I can't stop you, I'm–" He sucked in a breath, trying to find the right words to appease someone clearly power-hungry, someone who got off on tormenting him. "You decide whether I live or die," he stated bluntly, and the vampire's eyes lit up. "I'm n-not– I'm not bargaining– I have n-nothing to offer. I'm begging you. Please."
There was a long moment of pause between them, the vampire's eerie stillness a stark contrast to his own utter inability to stay put with all that anxiety rattling around in his chest.
"I do decide that," the vampire said so hungrily that Beck thought he'd gone too far, riling up the monster past the point of no-return. But then they chuckled, soft and so entirely amused, sighing in a way that almost made him think they found him endearing. "You're trying your very best to say what I want to hear, aren't you? Oh, dear... what am I to do with such a good little human? Surely, I cannot drain you after all this."
Beck tensed up when the vampire leaned in again, knowing that this time there was nothing he could say to stop them from biting. But that was almost a promise, right? At least half of it? As close as he would get?
"But I also cannot leave you," they murmured, and Beck's heart sank. "No... I think I'll keep you."
~
general drabbles taglist: @ashh-ed @whumpsday @whump-queen @the-scrapegoat @hidden-dreamland @rosewriteswhump @dismemberment-on-a-tuesday-night @whumpkinpie @delicateprincepaper @whumppmuhw @whump-em @cyborg0109 @morning-star-whump @justanotherlokifan @2in1whump @lthrboy @justletmereadmywhump @florissimps
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mixelation · 11 months
Text
i wrote more reborn au help
“It’s five now,” Matron told them grimly.  
A week ago, there had been six shinobi clans in Sound Country. Matron didn’t describe what happened to the sixth one. She didn’t have to. Most of the orphans have already been sent out to see the war themselves. 
Tori picked at a thread on the hand-me-down yukata she’d been given. It was a mustard yellow that probably would have looked lovely on another child but just made her skin look oddly gray. They hadn’t made her do anything yet but help lug water out to the aftermath of a battle once. She was only four. 
“This is why it’s important you train hard,” Matron concluded, before dismissing them into the yard. 
It wasn’t fair, Tori thought as she plodded along at the back of the line, that she had to be reborn into this stupid universe and didn’t even get to be born into a cool family. She would have liked magic eyeballs, maybe, or being taught to read minds. This clan did have a kekkei genkai that involved screaming like a bat, but she wasn’t one of them. She’d been born to a civilian family that had been the tragic victims of the Third Shinobi War, and the clan had taken her along with any other orphan kid they found.
The poor shmuck in charge of orphan training today was a teenager who didn’t seem to have any real plan in mind. He instructed them to practice hitting each other with sticks, and Tori was handed a bamboo pole and paired off with another girl, a couple years older. 
Tori didn’t want to hit anyone with a stick, much less another little girl. She’d rather be taught how to fight alongside a dog partner, and Tori didn’t even like dogs. 
The other little girl was shaking. She was new, and like Tori’s new-timeline family she didn’t even remember, her parents had been farmers. The Matron promised them every morning that they were training to be shinobi just like everyone else in the clan, but the clan relied on parents or older siblings teaching their children individually or in small groups, and the orphans just got whoever was around and free on any given day. This girl had never had to fight anyone in her life. 
(There were barely any children over the age of eight, because eight was the age they decided it was okay to start sending people out into the battlefield.)
“You can come at me first,” Tori offered, squaring her shoulders and holding the pole in front of her the way she thought they’d told them to do it a month ago. 
It additionally wasn’t fair that Tori didn’t seem to be any more physically gifted than in her previous life. She seemed to have the exact same body as before, complete with a head of runaway curls that the Matron seemed confused by, and that meant physical activity didn’t come easily to her. 
The other girl hesitated a few moments, and then half-heartedly smacked her pole against Tori’s. She didn’t even aim for Tori herself. The teenager in charge of them was busily sharpening some kunai and not paying any attention to the hollow thwaps of incompetent children hitting things with bamboo poles. 
Really, really unfair, Tori thought. 
xXx
Medical supplies were perpetually low, and so the welts now across Tori’s knuckles would go unbandaged. They had soap, at least, and plenty of well water. Tori had even gotten to help an ancient kunoichi make the last batch of soap. 
Tori examined her hand as they waited in line for a lunch of plain rice porridge. She must be holding the pole wrong, for a seven year old to accidentally hit her knuckles like that. 
(This was one advantage Tori had over the other orphans: she didn’t mind getting hurt. She preferred not to be hurt, obviously, but she’d lost a lot of the natural human fear of pain.)
They were also short on most kitchen supplies, so Tori had to share her bowl with two boys. They’d just sat down on the edge of the main house’s engawa when a group of shinobi bounded into the yard in excitement. 
“We got one!” one of them cried, holding something over his head. “Where’s the Old Man? We found one!”
Whatever it was, a group was rapidly forming around the shinobi. The two boys Tori was to share with got up to go see themselves, and Tori pulled the bowl into her lap. Their loss. 
Tori ate as fast as she could while she watched the proceedings. The Clan leader eventually appeared, and the crowd parted for him. The shinobi knelt as he presented the leader with… some sort of kunai?
“We were scouting a battlefield of the Yellow Flash, as you commanded,” one of the shinobi reported. 
Ah, shit, Tori thought as horror dawned on her. 
“It has some sort of fuinjutsu on it,” the shinobi was saying as the Clan Leader carefully flipped the three-pronged kunai over in his hands. “If we study it, maybe he can learn one of his techniques.”
Tori set the bowl down on the engawa and hopped to her feet. 
“Excuse me,” she called, approaching the gaggle of people around the Clan Leader. “Excuse me, are you really sure that’s a good idea?”
The Clan Leader looked at her like she was some sort of insect. 
“Don’t speak unless spoken to, girl,” the Clan Leader responded.
Tori ignored the warning. “Doesn’t the Yellow Flash, like, teleport? Do you really want to risk him teleporting here?”
The teenager who’d been in charge of them that morning was commanded to take her to a back training ground and hit her ten times with one of the bamboo poles. He only hit her eight times, all on her back. 
“The next person won’t be as nice,” he warned her. 
Tori had to lay on her belly to sleep, crammed into a room with twelve other orphans. In the morning, she was excused from ninja practice and sent to help the ancient kunoichi who made soap with laundry. Tori considered this a bonus. The soap kunoichi was the only person she really liked. 
“This does need to be wrapped,” the kunoichi diagnosed her back, clicking her tongue. “Why did you speak up, you foolish child? Here, lie down and I’ll help.”
Tori laid down on her belly again, and she twitched only a little as the kunoichi pushed chakra into her back. 
“I was right,” Tori mumbled into her arms. “That kunai is dangerous.”
The kunoichi sighed. “Always too clever for your own good, girl. Of course it’s dangerous. Trust your elders to know how to contain dangerous techniques.”
Tori craned her neck, turning her head to look at the kunoichi. “Really?” she asked. “How?”
The kunoichi clicked her tongue again. “No technique a brat like you will understand.”
“I understood the soap,” Tori countered. “Didn’t you tell Matron once, that a failure of one person to explain isn’t a failure of another person to understand–”
“Oi!” the kunochi countered, moving her hand to pinch an unblemished part of Tori’s side sharply. “The mouth on you!”
She did explain, though. The clan possessed a special chest, which was adorned with a special seal the clan had spent generations developing. It made the chest unbreakable, and so the kunai was harmless as long as it was inside. 
Tori doubted this, but she also doubted Minato would have a reason to come attack this little clan specifically. Then again, what did she know? She knew the date this war had ended in another timeline, and she knew at some point before that date the five Sound Country shinobi clans would unite as one village, but she didn’t know if she could expect things to proceed as they had before. She didn’t know what she’d changed, if anything, just by being here. 
One problem at a time, Tori decided, getting to her feet to go find some clean rags for the kunoichi to dress her wounds.
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chaifootsteps · 4 months
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I get mad thinking about Vivziepop’s questionable writing or dialogue choices sometimes—and then I just feel sad after because I really wish I could see her shows as something naunced and worthy of thoughtful discussion. I wish I could love these shows wholeheartedly like I use to, and its only the attachment I still hold for her works that keep me sticking around, but man, I feel so disheartened sometimes that I wish I could just let it go and move on already, but its hard.
I don’t see either of her shows being things that are going to be remembered as super amazing or have a fandom passionate about the work like 10 years down the line. I can’t look at her characters and think about their possible motivations or analyze them deeply based on interaction, or just general presence in the story, because there is no depth greater than a pond. With her antagonists she writes them in such a particular way that they serve less as actual characters and more as glorified plot devices and nothing more, and with her protagonists she leaves them as overdeveloped or underdeveloped at the same time.
What am I suppose to take when watching her shows? With Helluva Boss, I can’t tell what I’m suppose to gleam from it. Is the story about relationships and focuses on character interaction and characters more than the plot itself? Its not doing that great of a job at that. Theres no changes in character dynamics, characters dont really interact with one another meaningfully most of the time, and relationships arent explored enough outside of already established ones. Is it about fighting against a system that is rigged against you and standing up against the ones in power? No, it isn’t, because the opression our main characters face isnt relevant enough in the story outside of the ocassional reminder that, yes, Imps are the lowest in the system, yes, imps can be quite literally sold as property and serve as servants and the working force to the ones in power, and, yes, imps face discrimination. (Can you tell the supremacist line pissed me off yet.)
I.M.P—who are all apart of marginalized species in hell—do not talk about these issues they face. Crimson is literally a mafia boss in Greed and he doesn’t seem to have any problems being a imp in power despite the demons working under him being higher in status than he himself is. (Minus the money problems because it doesnt seem actually relevant to anything and isnt brought up afterwards) Why have our main characters be apart of the lower class at all if it isnt actually important to the show. By the end of this show, the hierachy isnt going to change because status quo is god, and the worst case scenario possible is that Blitz gets with Stolas and becomes a prince and lives a life where the same species he’s apart of literally serves under him.
And speaking of status quo, what on earth is season 2 of Hazbin going to even be about if season 1 ends in a literal war between Heaven and Hell? You don’t just change the status quo that drasitically in one season—unless if Hell and Heaven were at war since the start? But it doesnt seem that way. Would Season 2 focus on redemption—but if that’s the case, why make season 1 the war between hell and heaven when season 2 would be more fitted for it instead?
I never thought these shows would be on ‘Breaking Bad’ tier levels of writing, but I thought they were going to at least be something I could walk away from with a clear understanding of what message it wants to tell and how I can interpret it as part of an auidence, but maybe I was wrong to think the stories Medrano writes have something wonderfully insightful to give, and it really hurts to think about.
I know how you feel, Anon. A shame we can't all have just one day to look into the good timeline where Viv's the writer and person we hoped she would be, and these shows are everything we were looking forward to.
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