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yuri-is-online · 10 months

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Out With the Old (Heartsabyul, Savanaclaw, and Octavinelle x Yuu)

"Look I would get rid of this thing if I could afford a new sweatshirt." You drag the offensive article of clothing over your head completely missing the spark of curiosity and mischief in your companion's eye. "I've got a lot of bad memories associated with this."

"If it's that uncomfortable we can go look for a replacement instead of-"

"Oh no not like that, it's super comfy. I just don't like it because it technically belongs to my ex."

notes: they/them used for Yuu, some questionable behavior from Floyd and Jade because who else? This is meant to be crack. Second part can be found here (x)

Riddle- "THAT'S LITERALLY ILLEGAL???"

He is too focused on hyperventilating because it sounds like you just admitted to a crime in front of him to even think about offering you one of his sweaters. Trey and Cater have to break it down for him unpaid therapist style that no, you are not wearing stolen property (probably), borrowing clothes is just something people in relationships often do. He then further needs it explained that no, you are not still in a relationship and since you want to get rid of the shirt it sounds like things ended poorly. His friends want to try and suggest he should give you an article of his clothing to replace the offending one but he's so focused on getting you something that matches dress code that they decide to quit while they're ahead. Literally.

Trey- "You know you can always ask us if you need help, right?"

Vil's right about Trey's tendency to fuss and spoil people being a bit of a flaw; he's in tune enough with his emotions to know that he should not, for his own sake, give you one of his old sweatshirts without being honest about why he wants you to wear it. But he can't exactly deny his instincts when it comes to the people he cares about. You're cold and uncomfortable, what sort of guy would he be if he just left you all alone? Just please don't brush this off with a comment about how much of a big brother or mother hen he is; it is already going to be pure torture trying to look at you in his things in a Queen of Hearts honoring way. He doesn't need an added complex on top of it.

Cater- "Oh honey no."

Cater doesn't like keeping stuff his exes gave him either, but luckily for him he's never been in a position where that's literally only the stuff he had on him. Speaking of things, he buys a bunch of clothes off magicam he barley has time to take the tags off of before the trend goes stale. You guys should totally ditch what you were planning to do today and have a little fashion show in his room. It'll be cute and he can get a bunch of cammable shots! Just ignore the pop music club hoodie he refuses to take back because it looks "so much cuter on you." <3

Ace- "That's extremely lame prefect."

He isn't blind; you're cute and poor. Anyone would jump at the chance to let you steal a hoodie, besides Ace isn't insecure enough to be super jealous of someone you clearly hate. He knows you well enough to tell when you are silently wishing death on someone, it's all in the vocal tone. But damn if this new bit of information doesn't make things tricky. He already makes a big fuss about not needing to focus on dating right now, and with that iconic sweatshirt of yours technically belonging to an ex it's not like he can just slide you one of his without making it super obvious what he's doing. Looks like you're just going to have to take some extra teasing for a bit prefect, it's his preferred method of cope.

Deuce- "You've been here for how long and the Headmage hasn't given you any clothes?!?!"

Deuce is a good egg whose primary concern is almost always your well being. He tends to act before his common sense and emotions can catch up with his thought process, and that's exactly what happens here. The concept of you dating someone is just so... foreign to him. Not because he thinks your undesirable! It's just that you guys are always hanging out, you not being around makes him feel a bit funny inside, and not in a good way. He doesn't mention that to his mom when he texts her asking if she has any of his old clothes laying around, but she definitely knows what's on his mind. Why else would she have sent his old delinquent jacket?

Leona- "Well that explains why it smells like shit."

Let the record show that Leona is in fact, lying to you. Your clothes don't smell like anything other than you and maybe some of the musk floating around Ramshackle Dorm, but that doesn't stop you from pulling the fabric and taking a good sniff. To Leona, all this really suggests is that you've been over the person long enough that you don't care about keeping their scent around anymore. Sure, a tiny thought does worm it's ugly way into his inferiority complex that "oh they liked someone else" but his equally large ego immediately slams the emphasis on "liked" and starts thinking about how to get his scent on you. He doesn't really own too many jackets like the one you're wearing, but he does have some nice silk scarfs he could wrap you up in. Much classier than whatever trash you had previously been going out with.

Ruggie- "You wanna toss it my way then?"

Clothes are clothes are clothes, you don't see Ruggie acting like his uniform is still Leona's just because that's who originally bought it. If you are really bothered by the memories of your ex, he's willing to listen and make fun of them, assuming that will make you feel better, but this won't make him jealous. That emotion is reserved for when you share food with other people. He is dead serious about taking the sweatshirt if you don't want it, as far as he's concerned that shirt belongs to you, and he wouldn't mind having an excuse to blend your wardrobes a little bit. It would make you even closer to being a real member of his pack.

Jack- "You can just take mine."

Jack's strong sense of justice and firm moral code are definitely his only motivations for offering you one of his sweatshirts. Forcing a student to wear clothes they find uncomfortable and associate with negative memories just because they didn't have the foresight to pack something they did like for a school they didn't know they would be attending is beyond unfair. That's what he tells himself anyway, and it's not like he isn't upset on your behalf, but it's plain as day to anyone that he wants to prove that you can rely on him; he's not like that other person, he doesn't mind being alone together with you.

Azul- "If your finances really are in such dire straights you know I could-"

Revealing personal information in Azul's presence is asking to be offered a deal. Sure that little complaint might have been insignificant to you, but for Azul? He's having a full blown Sherlock style breakdown going on in his head trying to decide what his angle is. 1) The prefect has dated in the past and doesn't look on that experience favorably. Does this prevent them from dating again? Needs further analysis. 2) Giving articles of clothing is an acceptable form of human courtship, even if used. Or is it especially if used? 3) Can he convince you to burn this if he gets you a replacement or is that too petty? 4) More importantly does this mean you have a type? And how does he press for that information without appearing desperate?

Jade- "Oh? Well that sounds extremely annoying."

Jade Leech is first and foremost a messy bitch who lives for other people's misery. Sure, he is reasonably certain he's in love with you at this point, but that doesn't matter. You have a story that's filled with second hand embarrassment and a bone to pick besides he is nothing if not an enthusiastic audience. The thought of you wearing clothes that he owns wasn't something he would have thought of himself, merfolk don't typically wear them so dating customs that involve them are a bit foreign to him. He would much rather just bite you. Or give you some jewelry. both he wants to do both

Floyd- "PUT THAT THING BACK WHERE IT CAME FROM OR SO HELP ME"

The instant you say that sweatshirt is from an ex he is taking off whatever shirt he is currently wearing and trying to tug off yours. Yes, even if it is his basketball jersey, and yes even if he just got back from practice. Isn't the scent supposed to be the point? He knows you miss him when he's gone, and he can get you something nicer out of his closet later. Just remember to tell everyone, even and especially if they don't ask, who gave it to you. Floyd's... nice? Enough? To not immediately burn your sweatshirt but it's up for debate if that's because he's actually being nice or if he just wants a trophy.

#twisted wonderland x reader #twst x reader #twst x yuu #riddle rosehearts x reader #trey clover x reader #cater diamond x reader #ace trapolla x yuu #deuce spade x reader #leona kingsholar x reader #ruggie bucci x reader #jack howl x reader #azul ashengrotto x reader #floyd leech x reader #jade leech x reader

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andivmg · 2 months

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speak up andi, I beg of you, you have been mistreated the most here, I know it took shubble a lot of courage but she has helped so many people

i want to start this off by saying it is not a competition and i do not want to compare my experience to anybody else’s. shubble is so fucking strong and i admire her and everyone else who has spoken up about experiencing abuse endlessly.

DISCLAIMER 1

this is way longer than i intended it to be. i did not plan to go into as much depth as i did but the words just kinda kept coming and i kept thinking that if someone else is in a similar situation to the one i was in, it would be good to point out even some of the smaller details so that they can see that these behaviors are not something to be overlooked and could be a symptom of a bigger issue… idk. i apologize for how lengthy and wordy this is but i hope it all makes sense somehow

DISCLAIMER 2

a lot of you know who one of my exes is and i am asking you to please not make this about him. i am simply sharing my experience with some of my past relationships in hopes that they help someone else. i beg of you, do not go on twitter making threads speculating on whatever because it’s just going to cause me a bunch of problems and i don’t want this to be brought to his attention. if you share my story, please do not do it with the intent of starting drama. if you share my story, focus on the behaviors i am talking about instead of trying to figure out if it’s about him.

DISCLAIMER 3

this goes without saying but i’ll put it here anyway: i will be talking about toxic relationships, mention of self harm, mention of sex, implied violence. if any of these topics are triggering to you please scroll away, protect yourself.

I have been in a lot of relationships, but there are 4 that i would truly identify as the ones who had the biggest impact on me. Two of those i would consider emotional mistreatment. I don’t want to say i was abused for reasons that i will be discussing with my therapist this week, but i can certainly say i was mistreated. For the sake of privacy, i will be referring to these two dudes as 1 and 6.

I think the biggest difference between 1 and 6 is that 6 was obsessed with me to the point where i felt like i was being suffocated, whereas i’m not sure if 1 ever cared about me in the first place.

6 and i started out pretty normally. we had a bunch of friends in common and we were around the same people. so eventually, we became friends too. we would text and call all the time until feelings developed into a relationship. in the beginning he was really sweet and caring, saying all the right things that got me falling head over heels. now, something important to note is that i am someone who has always had a lot of guy friends. when i was little and in school, my mom made friends with a bunch of other moms and those moms were boy moms, so i grew up surrounded by boys. i bring this up because 6 didn’t like my guy friends. actually, i think he just didn’t like the fact that i had guy friends at all. so, whenever i would hang out with my friends, it was a problem. so this resulted in me never being able to go out or hang out with my friends unless he was there. then it got worse. before we started dating he had decided to cut back on drinking and to stop smoking. so because of this, i decided that i wouldn’t drink or smoke around him in solidarity. this was not enough for him. i had to stop drinking and smoking altogether. so once, when i was hanging out with my girl friends we decided to stay in and get wine drunk. we posted about it on our private stories on snap and once he saw, 6 called me arguing and yelling at me because i was drinking and posting about it on my story for “attention”. after this incident, i was no longer allowed to hang out with my friends because they were a “bad influence”. he also didn’t like the clothes i wore. sorry, let me reiterate: he didn’t like my clothes when he wasn’t around. it was perfectly fine for me to wear a short dress… if i was with him. i was not allowed to wear “revealing” clothing if he wasn’t around. mind you, none of the clothes i wore were revealing, it’s not my fault i’m hot yk? he took over my life. who i talked to, what i did, what i wore, where i would go, it was all up to him. my life no longer belonged to me. and at the time, i was okay with that. i didn’t realize that he had so much control over everything. i was young and naïve and he convinced me that he knew what was best for me. that he had lived more than i had and experienced more than i had and that he knew better. he was so good at making everything my fault and making him the hero or victim depending on the situation. i got catcalled on the street? “because you were wearing that fucking dress again, andrea you know how that looks. of course you got catcalled. this is why you can’t wear things like that when i’m not around to protect you”. I decided to have a fun night in with my friends and get drunk? “i just don’t understand why you would be posting yourself on your private story like that. you’re drunk and vulnerable. why do you want other people, other guys, to see you like that? and you know i’ve cut back on drinking so how do you think it makes me feel to see that? don’t you love me enough to do this for me?” the worst part is i believed him. because, in the beginning, he helped me so much and i looked up to him so much, surely he had my best interests at heart, right? this relationship went on for way longer than it should have. you may be asking yourself, how did you leave? if you were so in love with him and entranced by him to the point where he consumed you, why did you leave? he raised his hand. that’s what got me to finally leave. a year after we broke up, i found out that he was drinking, smoking, and doing all kinds of shit he told me he wasn’t throughout our entire relationship. he was awful, and i’m really proud of myself for being strong enough to leave when i did. i’m also really grateful for my friends, who stuck out that whole train wreck with me. who i lashed out against in order to protect him and defend him. they stuck by me through it all and i don’t know where i would be without them so shoutout to them lmfao.

1 was a bit more complicated. it started out in a similar way. we had the same friends, hung out around the same people, so it was only a matter of time until we became friends too. we would call and text every day until feelings were developed. at least i developed feelings, i’m still not sure he did. i told him this and i don’t remember how the conversation went but basically we had decided that we were talking as more than friends now. enough time went by where i was ready for it to become a relationship and i communicated that to him. looking back, i think he felt pressured into the relationship by me and by our friends. anyway we started dating and everything was fine. we would hang out and talk all the time but i felt like he was bored or disinterested by me, so i would constantly beg for his attention. i became this needy clingy version of myself that i hated. it felt like when we would hang out, he was always distracted by something else. i basically felt invisible to him. that is, when i wasn’t hanging out with my guy friends. similarly to 6, 1 did not like my guy friends or the fact that i had guy friends in the first place. i had a guy best friend at the time who is one of the most amazing people i have ever met. let’s call him S. S and 1 were acquainted with each other, hung out in the same circles etc. but 1 still didn’t like him. sometimes, whenever 1 was busy doing whatever he did when he wasn’t with me, i would hang out with S, we would watch shows together and just talk. Some days, it felt like i talked to S more than my own boyfriend. this did not sit well with 1. he would ask “why the fuck are you always hanging out with him?” to which i would reply “maybe if you hung out with me more, i wouldn’t have so much free time to spend with him” (toxic ik but what can i say? i was feeling neglected). so you can see what problems this caused. eventually i cut S off. I stopped talking to him completely and i haven’t spoken to him since. Back to 1. even after cutting off my best friend, nothing really changed. He didn’t spend much time with me and whenever we would, i felt like he couldn’t wait to go off and do something else. this got exhausting. at that point i was begging him to love me, to pay attention to me, to care about me. this led to us breaking up. he broke up with me over text. it read, and i quote, “i think we aren’t meant for each other. i think you deserve someone that will treat you better than i do. I don’t think i’m in love with you and i tried to force myself to love you because i thought that’s what i wanted but i really don’t think it is. we started this relationship when i was just tired of being alone and i really just don’t think it is right anymore. i don’t think i am attracted to you. I am sorry, i really didn’t know how to end this and this probably isn’t the best way to do it but it’s time”. The relationship went on for another six months after this. granted, i should have had more self respect and never gotten back together with him but it is what it is. so after he told me that he didn’t love me and that he wasn’t attracted to me, we stayed “friends”. which basically meant that we did everything that a relationship involved. without actually being in a relationship. that is, until one of his friends hit me up. there was some flirtation going on but nothing serious. i was still in love with 1 but, at the time, i was in desperate need for attention and his buddy was there to provide it. when i told 1 about it he flipped out, called me all kinds of crazy and decided he was done with me. his friend and i talked about it and poked fun at the fact that he broke up with me but got mad at someone else paying attention to me. when 1 saw this (he ended up forcing me to show him the screenshots of the conversation) he was even more pissed and even more done with me. the next day he called me and we were basically back together again.

however, this time, i was meant to earn his affection. because i did something so unforgivable and atrocious, he was basically in the clear to treat me like shit. and he did. he would cancel plans to go hang out with his friends. he would only come over late at night, even when i had class the next day. i was basically at his mercy. we only hung out when he decided. we only spoke when he wanted to. i honestly can’t even recall us going on any date after that incident, save for one dinner. in short, i was not a priority to him. this, combined with some other stuff, really took at toll on my mental health. i entered a deep depression and began self-harming after being clean for 3 years. i sought out help and found a wonderful therapist who really helped me. but, 1 only saw this as one more problem. when we hung out he would complain that i was too sad. important note: because of that text he sent me i was incredibly insecure. so, little arguments would always end up escalating because i felt like he literally did not care about me and he would just keep making me feel like shit about being depressed. whenever we argued (which was very often) it would end in me locking myself in the bathroom, sobbing, nearly throwing up, while he was on his phone. i remember one specific argument started because he asked me if i would leave him for harry styles and i jokingly said yes (i am not and have never been attracted to harry styles). that argument escalated to the point where we almost broke up and he said to me “you should warn people before they fall in love with you that you are so mentally ill. because you’re always going to bring down the mental state of who you’re with”. he used my mental health against me like that a lot. whenever i would bring up something i wanted him to do or something that i didn’t like, he would call me needy, clingy, and say that he was trying his best but that i needed too much, that i was too much. all i wanted was reassurance. looking back, that’s all i ever asked for. whenever i would ask him if he loved me he would say “well i’m with you aren’t i?”. this is the same man who decided to go to vegas with his friends on my birthday after he promised he wouldn’t. this is the same man who said that he didn’t love me. the same one who said he wasn’t attracted to me. the same man who i would catch looking at other girl’s (some being his “friends”) provocative pictures on twitter. (this is definitely tmi so i’m just going to put a bunch of asterisks at the end of the tmi so you can skip there if you don’t want to read it) but there was a long period of time in our relationship where we had zero intimacy, and it wasn’t because of me. this fucked with my head a lot because i had this idea that because i was so emotional and needy that i could compensate physically. but when that stopped, my thoughts looked something like “the only thing i was useful for was sex and now he doesn’t even want that from me”.************whenever i remember this, a part of me thinks he might’ve been cheating on me during that time, but i have no proof so i guess we’ll never know. also during that time period, we were arguing over the same things over and over “it feels like you don’t love me” “but i’m hanging out with you” “that’s not the same as loving me” “you’re so fucking needy. and then you wonder why i don’t like coming over”. it was exhausting. we had the same friend group. and even our friends got so sick of us that they would tell me to break up with him. this went on for months until one day, on our one year anniversary, he told me that his plans for the day included playing video games. nothing else. that’s when i broke up with him. that was the straw that broke the camel’s back. i just couldn’t do it anymore.

we stayed friends afterwards in order to keep the peace within the friend group. after about a month, he told me he was going to do better. he said he was going to start going to the gym, and maybe even going to therapy, that he was going to eat better and live a better lifestyle for me. he said he was going to plan dates for us and treat me the way i deserved etc. very much vibes from that one euphoria scene. but i was done. maybe i didn’t communicate that well enough to him and that’s my fault. but i was really confused at the time and i didn’t know what i wanted. eventually we had a conversation and that’s when i told him that i was no longer interested in a relationship. i think i just didn’t believe him anymore. i didn’t believe that he would change for me or anyone else for that matter. through the entire relationship he was mean to me, he neglected me, belittled me, and overall made me feel like shit at worst and invisible at best. even when i would offer to plan things or suggest activities for us to do together, he would be disinterested the entire time or just cancel and make plans with his friends instead. and of course it was all my fault for one, flirting with his friend that one time, and two, just not being interesting enough. he made it feel like i wasn’t good enough, and at the same time victimized himself. he would tell me “nothing i do is ever good enough for you” while i was the one putting in all the effort in the relationship. then he would go “well why would i put in effort with you? remember when you were flirting with [redacted]? I still think about that and it fucks me up”. mind you, he would only bring this up whenever i brought up any concerns or issues. anyway, as you can tell it took me a really long time to realize that this relationship was toxic and unhealthy and i’m really proud of myself, again, for having the strength to leave and never look back. i think one of the reasons why it took me so long to realize that i was being mistreated was because everyone around him loved him. and to me it was hard to see how someone that was so well liked could be bad. so i felt like i was the problem. i felt like there was something wrong with me and if i just fixed that, then he would treat me better and love me and care about me. it took a lot of therapy to realize that he just wasn’t that into me. i was like a toy to him that he could just pay attention to when he was bored but ignore me the rest of the time. but then, when someone else showed interest in me he would suddenly care and be like “no she’s mine, you can’t have her”. he didn’t want me but he didn’t want anyone else to have me and that was the bottom line. that was the base off all the problems and toxicity that happened while we were together.

in conclusion, both of these men were awful in their own unique ways. i hope that by sharing this, someone who is in a similar situation will see it and identify these behaviors as something to watch out for. i hope that someone will see it and realize that they are not alone, and that they are not the first person to go through it, and that it gets better. these events all happened over two years ago and now i am in a beautiful and healthy relationship, i’m studying something that i am passionate about, and i am surrounded by people who love, care about, and support me. i am in a much happier place now and you will find that too, whoever you might be <3

#andianswers #i might’ve given myself a migraine with this one

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sweet-as-an-angel · 1 year

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MW2 Reaction to Their S/O Who Self-Harms

Warnings: Heavy Mentions of Self-Harm, Non-Explicit Mentions of Injuries, Mentions of Violence (Not Towards Reader), Hurt/Comfort, Angst, Fluff, Petnames, No Pronouns used for Reader except ‘You’.

A/N: Hey guys, just letting you know that this post is a bit heavier than my usual ones. This has been requested of me quite a few times, so here it is. I’ve tried to remain as realistic and respectful as possible while bringing you your favourite MW2 people. I’m going to link some mental health resources here for anyone who needs them, and I implore anyone suffering, regardless of whether you self-harm or not, to please, please talk to someone. Nobody deserves to live with the weight of poor mental health, so if you’re able, don’t hesitate to reach out to someone and tell them how you’re feeling ! Friends, family members, pets – anyone who you think will be able to be a good listening partner, even if they’re not a licensed therapist. And if you feel you have no-one to talk to, there are always options ! Local and national mental health services, some of which are free and don’t show up on phone bills ! A lot of the time, simply speaking about what’s hurting you is the first step to mental healing <3. Please stay safe, guys <3

Ghost

Is appalled at himself that he didn’t notice sooner.

He bundles you up into his arms, pulling you as close to him as physics will allow, and then some. His head is buried in your shoulder, his grip around you tight, but he doesn’t hurt you.

“Oh, Sweetheart– I’m so sorry,” you hear him whisper. His voice is thin and high as if the composite of helium, yet a sombre tone weights it.

“I should’ve known how you were feeling – I should’ve been here for you more–”

It doesn’t matter how much you try to console him, or how well you are able to conceal your suffering. Simon will never forgive himself for allowing you to go through this alone.

“It’s no excuse,” he says, and there’s a hitch to his voice. Something wet, warm, hits your shoulder.

Now, distraught as if he’d already lost you, Simon pulls away just so he can see your face. His eyes are glossy and red with tears, his face the mask of anguish.

He takes your head in his hands, holds it at the jaw, and, with angel tenderness, presses a kiss to your crown.

He tucks your head beneath his chin, encases you with his body again.

“I’m never gonna let anything hurt you,” he says, and you can feel his heart pounding against his chest. “Not again.”

And you know he means it.

Due to his own mental health struggles, Simon will use his own logic to try and help you.

He’s never had anyone to rely on – before you, at least – so he makes himself available to you wherever and whenever you need him.

He does everything you ask of him without question, whether that’s making you a bowl of soup or listening to whatever thoughts roll into your head.

He helps you get ready for bed and tucks you in when he can tell it’s been a taxing day, mentally or physically.

And he watches over you, as if to make sure you don’t disappear before his eyes, before going to sleep himself.

There’s nothing he loves more than to hold you, whether you’re upset or not. He just wants to feel your weight and your warmth in his arms, nuzzling you and telling you “I love you. D’you know that ? Very, very much,”

You do know. He tells you every waking moment.

And throughout it all, despite the unfortunate circumstances from which this is derived, Simon is just glad that you want to open up to him, and he’ll never deny you a request or a question, wanting to remain a source of hope and comfort to you for as long as you need him.

König

König’s many dealings with his own occupation have clued him into how severe one’s mental health issues can become. Especially when left unattended.

And, as a result, König has the propensity to become…overbearing.

Of course, he’s mortified that you’ve been suffering in silence this whole time, and while he knows he can’t change the past, or rewrite the stars to ensure this never happens again, he does everything in his power to prevent you from falling into despair.

“It’s okay, Engel,” he says, taking you into his arms and holding you close so you can hear his thundering heart. “You’re safe. You’re alright, you’re alright…”

In the beginning of your shared journey to healing, König tries to do anything and everything for you. Chores, cooking, pillow readjustment – anything he thinks would be a nuisance to you.

However, he ends up completing tasks that you actually find enjoyable, leaving nothing for you to do.

While you appreciate everything he’s doing – very much so ! – you still want some independence, even if it’s minimal. And you told him as much.

König looked like he was on the verge of tears when he apologised: “I just wanted to do what was best for you, Darling,”

You have to console him, tell him that his gallant efforts are not appreciated.

König still keeps an eye on you if he has cause to believe you may be trying to self-harm again, but he won’t smother you.

He’ll wait for you to come to him, trusting that you know yourself and him well enough to understand that there is nothing you can’t tell him.

Even if you relapse, or stumble a little, König always encourages you to get back up.

“That’s why our skin heals,” he says, holding your injured arm in his hand, cleansing you of your pain. “So we can start again.”

He loves taking you out on trips – anywhere he knows you’ll like.

He just wants to see you feel something again. Or at least see a sliver of happiness light up your face, even if just for a second.

Petting zoo, amusement park, shopping trip, spa day – you name it, it’s yours !

At the end of the day, when you’re exhausted and König is carrying you home on his back, your 6’10 military princess is just happy that he gets to spend time with you, your warmth the best he’s ever felt.

And he’ll do whatever he can to keep it. To keep you.

Soap

Initially, he’s in denial. But when he sees how tired you are, how grey your soul has become, his heart tears, and everything he’s ever felt for you comes pouring out.

He takes your hands in his, and, the feeling of tears burning his throat, he buries kisses into the back of them.

“I love you– so, so much,” he says, breathless. “You know that, don’t you ?”

The tone in his voice suggests haste, or perhaps desperation. The need for you to know that you are loved. Very, very dearly.

And when you start to cry, Johnny can’t keep his tears in any longer.

“It’s okay, my Love, it’s okay,” he tells you, voice low and soft.

He pulls you into an embrace from which you gather the impression you will never escape. Not while he’s holding on to you as if you could slip between his fingers at any minute.

“We can get through this. Together,”

His assurance is resolute as the sunrise in the morning, and you know, from the way he holds you, speaks to you, that what he’s saying is true.

“You’re okay. You’re safe now. We’ll be okay…”

Johnny makes a concerted effort to watch over you more from now on.

You still maintain your independence – that’s not an issue.

But if he can sense you’re not feeling too good, he’ll either ask if you want to talk about it or wait for you to come to him.

He trusts you to come to him when you’re ready, just as he trusts you with his heart.

He makes sure to ask what your boundaries are when it comes to talking about mental health, just to be sure that he doesn’t accidentally overstep or trigger you in any way.

The last thing he wants to do is upset you. He’d never forgive himself if he did.

And whenever you come and tell him that you’re feeling a little better today, or you found even just one, tiny thing to celebrate, like finding a cool pebble, he’s overjoyed, overcome with pride for your achievements.

Valeria

She is daughter and heir to her own demons, but none of them compare to the thought of you harming yourself or being harmed.

Her initial reaction is anger, but not towards you.

Never towards you.

She wants to eradicate whoever or whatever has driven you to feel this way.

It will take some explaining that the source of your pain isn’t necessarily easy to vanquish, and even if it is, right now, all you want is comfort.

Valeria doesn’t cry. Not in front of you.

Instead, she pulls you to her chest and cradles you while you tell her all your worries, your problems, your sorrows.

And, when she settles you into bed, she embarks on a journey to rid you of your demons.

If they are caused by something external, it’s gone by the time morning rolls around.

If your habits are a result of something within yourself, Valeria will try to remedy it as best she can.

Hours upon hours of research, tending to you whenever you need her, letting you know she’ll never let anyone or anything hurt you–

“And that’s a Valeria guarantee !”

She never breaks out her humorous side, so you know she means it.

She does have the potential to become a helicopter girlfriend, so you’ll have to speak with her and establish some boundaries if there are some things you wish to do alone.

Valeria will understand, but she does get worried when she doesn’t hear from you every hour, and she has to resist the urge to send one of her men to check on you.

At the end of the day, she trusts you and knows that you are your own person, intelligent enough to make your own choices.

All she wants is to be able to be with you, and so long as you plan on sticking around, she will work to bring you a life that can chase away the shadows in your mind.

Price

Due to Price’s fatherly nature, his immediate reaction is deep concern.

“Oh, Love,” he says, his brow creased as his discovery weighs heavy on his face. In all his years as a military professional, he’s seen many a mortifying scene. But none of them have hurt to witness as much as your suffering.

“Come and tell me about it,” he tells you, bringing you to sit beside him on the sofa. “Tell me everything, and I’ll listen.”

Whether you confide in him or not is entirely up to you; he won’t force you to divulge anything you don't want to. But he does remind you that “We’re a team, you and I. There’s nothing you can’t tell me – that we can’t tell each other.”

And he means it. Truly.

Whenever you stand by the doorway to his study, he drops everything and invites you to sit with him, on him – whatever you want to do.

And he listens to anything and everything you tell him.

Price is an incredibly intuitive, intelligent man, and whatever you tell him, even in passing fancy, you can expect to have it within an hour of you unintentionally requesting it.

Price once bundled you up in a blanket and carried you around the house, calling you “Love Bug”. Sometimes he uses it as a comforting tactic since it keeps you warm and you can be nearer to him whenever you want to be.

He calls you his “Brave little soldier” whenever he’s tending to your scrapes or cuts (intentional or otherwise), telling you how you’re the “Strongest warrior this side of the planet !”

He’s always looking for ways to make you smile.

It doesn’t matter what he has to do to achieve a result; for you, there are no boundaries to his love.

And yes, that includes making duck lips out of Pringles.

Or walrus tusks out of chopsticks.

And whenever you smile, no matter how faint, John knows that, regardless of how bleak things may seem now, everything’s going to be okay.

Horangi

Given how mental health is rarely spoken about in Horangi’s birthplace, even stigmatised, he understands how difficult it can be coming out to someone about your inner struggles.

Initially, he sighs, though not out of frustration or anger.

But rather, understanding.

He knows there’s nothing he can say to make everything alright, but he wants to try and help you in any way he can.

And the first step is thanking you for opening up to him.

“I’m just happy you felt you could talk to me about this, 내꺼.”

He does everything in his power to make your life easier: doing your laundry, keeping your toiletries organised, preparing your meals; anything that’ll put a smile on your face or just make your day more bearable.

He doesn’t want you to feel as if he’s trying to sanitise the content you watch, but if he suspects or outright knows that specific topics or content triggers you, he’ll try to steer you away from it and bring you some safer alternatives.

He knows that everyone has different contributors and triggers so he never assumes that one specific thing may be yours; instead, he asks what makes you feel good, what doesn’t, or, if you don’t want to talk about it, he’ll try and use his intuition.

He’ll never force you to give something up, though. But he’ll gently advise against it if he feels it isn’t serving you in your journey to mental healing.

He teaches you how to ground yourself in a way that’s immediate and effective, and, whatever the weather, he’ll take you outside if you ask him to – to feel the rain or the sun or the snow, or to be held by the fog that rolls in over the oceans and mountains.

And he’ll always be there to hold your hand when you want him to, to be your shoulder to hold on to when you can no longer stay standing; your driftwood in the black sea, leading you to the lighthouse on a calm shore.

Alejandro

After priding himself on being the one person in the whole world who knows you the best, he feels his world shatter.

Not because he’s been proven wrong – his ego does not come into this equation – but because he feels as if he could somehow have helped prevent whatever feeling has driven you to self-harm.

Alejandro is a strong man, both physically and emotionally. But seeing you like this, in a ceaseless sea of despair, he crumbles, falls to his knees before you as if you are God itself.

“Mi Amor…why ?” is all he can say. “What has caused you to do this ?”

When you explain to him that, sometimes, it’s not anything external at all, but entirely conjured within your own mind, your own worst enemy, he understands.

Even when he feels he has failed you, he refuses to allow you to come to any more harm, whether from yourself or someone else.

“We– we can get help for you, or– or we can just stay here, go out like we always do, go and see new things–”

Alejandro is the type to throw anything at the wall until it sticks. And by god, he is not stopping until something sticks.

He pays particularly close attention to you now. Not so much as to become a helicopter boyfriend, but enough so that you know he’s there.

He grants you your privacy, believes you are entitled to it as anyone else is, regardless of your condition.

But, if you disappear for half an hour or more, he’ll come to check on you.

He doesn’t want you feeling smothered, but he’s just so terrified of losing you that he’s not sure what to do for the best.

You may have to help him here. Let him know what you want, what you need, so he can do what is right by you.

He apologises for reacting the way he did when you initially told him. “It was…selfish, self-centred. I thought that I could just– destroy whatever was hurting you. But…now, I see that’s not how it works.”

Alejandro doesn’t rest until he knows you’re at maximum comfort and happiness (however much your mind will permit that day), and he will shield you from anything that could cause you to spiral, no matter what.

Rodolfo

For the first time, he’s dead serious. His face goes straight and thin with what you think is consideration.

And he stays that way until he breaks his own silence, his eyes softening as he looks at you.

“Mi Sol,” he says, quiet, as if keeping a secret. And then, you see it. Just a flicker. But a weight bears down on his shoulders – one which wasn’t there before. But it isn’t a burden of weight. Far from it. And you know this when Rodolfo smiles, his eyes becoming glassy.

It’s the weight of love, of his heart taking on your load, halving it.

He holds his arms out to you, pulling you to him.

“Thank you for telling me,” he says. His hold around you tightens. “I know that can’t have been easy,”

From then on, he is at your beck and call – 24/7.

Though, this isn’t a big change given how he already willingly threw himself at any request you made. But now, he uses his intuition more. Taps into verbal or physical cues that let him know you’re not feeling all that good today, and so he’ll take over the chores and tell you to go and sit down.

He makes your favourite meal every night you want it, no matter how unorthodox it is.

Cereal and a plate of sausages ? You got it. Spaghetti with dino nuggies ? It’s already on the table.

The only time Rodolfo will ask you to do anything is when he thinks it’s for your own good – like taking a quick walk with him around the block so you’re out in the sunshine for a bit. Or washing your hair when he can tell it’s getting you down.

He never makes you do anything you don’t want to, though.

Nor does he make you talk when you don’t want to.

He listens whenever you come to him of your own volition. And if he can tell something is really bothering you, he’ll press once for any kind of information. If you don’t want to tell him, he drops it. But he’d rather risk your upset and try to find a solution to whatever’s upsetting you than live to regret it later when it all becomes too much for you.

And whenever you confide in him, he can’t hide how lucky he feels to have someone as special as you; even if you don’t see it right now, Rodolfo knows you’re the most important person in the world, and he won’t stop until you’ve grown into the person you’re destined to be, no matter how long it takes.

And he’s with you every step of the way.

Graves

At first, he was overwhelmed.

Of course, he was hurt that you’d been suffering – and hid it so well, too.

“Darlin’... I’m so sorry – I should’a known or asked or– done– somethin’ !”

To rectify his self-proclaimed self-inattentiveness, he purchases the best therapist money can buy.

“So you can tell ‘em all about your feelings,”

He doesn’t realise how insensitive a gesture can be until it’s too late; it doesn’t even occur to him that you may not want a therapist, but just to speak to someone you know.

Someone like Graves.

And this is something you’ll have to teach him.

But, of course, this will also take time for him to adjust to.

“Well…I– uh…Are ya sure ?”

He cannot wrap his head around the idea that you could ever possibly want to confide in him about something so important, but he’s relieved that you do.

It takes time for him to understand that he doesn't need to have all the answers, or be a trained professional to help you feel better.

He just needs to be there.

To listen, to help whenever you ask for it (or when he can tell you want it).

He makes himself available to you as often as he can, sending others on business trips for him if he knows you’re encountering a particularly rough patch.

Your opening up to him inspires him to open up more, too.

Sometimes, late in the night, you sit together, awake, pouring your wine-darkest thoughts and patchwork memories into a never ending conversation.

Philip wants you to know that he’s always got time for you, so he joins you more frequently in your hobbies, and yours his.

Anything to simply be with you. And also to finish this cool bauble he’s started decorating.

Gaz

Gaz is young; he grew up in a generation that values mental health above all else, so he knows a thing or two about helping people.

However, he never assumes to know anything and everything about your causes, your triggers, your contributors; those he lets you tell to him.

He’s always willing to listen, no matter how early in the morning or late into the evening it is; he lends you his ear whenever you need it.

He tries to take time off work whenever he knows he can so he can be with you. Especially if you’ve encountered a rough patch and have asked him for help.

If you choose to pursue professional mental help, he’ll come with you if you want him to – hold your hand for as long as you want, speak for you if you’re finding that words are escaping you and you want his help.

There’s nothing this guy won’t do for you.

Not that there wasn’t already, but now he does it even quicker.

Brings you a healthy snack whenever he knows you need or want one.

He partakes in new hobbies with you when your usual ones just don’t cut it.

Colouring, crocheting, antique collecting, drawing, writing – he’ll gladly follow you down any path you take.

He brings you things he thinks may help you feel better, if only for a minute.

Whenever you need a change of scenery, he takes you on a “Magical mystery tour !” (bundles you into the car and drives to wherever your hearts take you).

He tries to pick locations he knows are scenic – ones which are calming and not too densely populated.

The days where you want to be around people – humanity – he brings you to the park, lays a blanket down for you and people watches with you the whole day.

At the end of the day, he won’t stop until you’re feeling better, be it by one percent or a hundred; any progress is monumental, in his eyes.

And he congratulates all your little victories with your favourite treats and days out of town – the country, even, when you’re feeling up to it.

He loves you so much, it’s unreal; he just can’t believe how lucky he is to have you in his life.

And he makes sure to let you know, whether through gestures or just telling you, every single day.

And he hopes that, even if you don’t believe it now, one day you’ll see yourself how he sees you.

The perfect human being.

Reblog for more content like this! It helps creators like myself tremendously and it is greatly appreciated :-)

Masterlist Masterlist [Continued] Masterpost Modern Warfare AI Masterlist

AO3 Wattpad

2K notes · View notes

witchthewriter · 6 months

Text

𝐑𝐚𝐧𝐝𝐨𝐦 𝐫𝐞𝐥𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧𝐬𝐡𝐢𝐩 𝐡𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐜𝐚𝐧𝐨𝐧𝐬 𝐰𝐢𝐭𝐡 𝐒𝐢𝐦𝐨𝐧 𝐑𝐢𝐥𝐞𝐲 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐊𝐨̈𝐧𝐢𝐠

⤷ gender neutral, ambiguous race, and any size reader. Requests are open, thank you for reading!

a/n: not a poly relationship - I just decided to have them both in one post. Let me know if you want more xx Also I went through the tags for these guys and there is nothing but SMUT. So I wanted some sweet sfw headcanons for the boys

Warnings: swearing, nsfw included (no one under 18 please).

ᴹᵃˢᵗᵉʳˡᶤˢᵗ | ᴹᵃˢᵗᵉʳˡᶤˢᵗ ᴵᴵ

𝑺𝑭𝑾🌿

INTJ

Ravenclaw

Neutral Good

Scorpio Sun, Capricorn Moon, Virgo Rising

𝐒𝐢𝐦𝐨𝐧 𝐑𝐢𝐥𝐞𝐲/𝐆𝐡𝐨𝐬𝐭

・This man is fucking dangerous behind the wheel. And although he is a hot-head occasionally, it isn't when he's driving.

・Simon knows he's shit, so when people honk at him, give him the finger - he just stone-faces it. Let's them berate him because really, he doesn't fucking care.

・However he has lost his licence a few times ... and so you told him he could be your <3 passenger princess <3

・Simon wasn't amused ...

・Very much the protective type, verging on possessive. Not in an abusive way, but he wants everyone to know that you're his. So when anyone flirts with you - or even when they're a little too nice, his jealousy consumes him.

・Scary dog privledges, with and without the mask. This man is intimidating as fuck.

・6'4, wide shoulders and big hands, so it doesn't matter how you look, how tall you are etc - Simon is bigger, taller and stronger.

・Yes he can be a hardass, but when he loves someone, that roughness is somewhat smoothened out. He'd hate to hurt your feelings.

・He only wears his mask to hide his identity; he takes it off when missions are done.

・And when he's home, he rarely wears it.

・Absolutely HATES being jump-scared. And his reflexes take over (you've learnt from the first and last time)

・This goes with random kisses as well, sometimes you just have to make yourself known before touching Simon

・He isn't huge into PDA, but when outside he will gladly hold your hand, bump his shoulder into yours when you make a crappy dad joke.

・The biggest misconception is that he's cold. Well, at work - obviously he is. But at home, with you, he has so much warmth. A lot of life.

・He has great banter. Absolutely has both of you laughing your asses off.

・Calls you "love," "sweetheart," (all in his gruff, chiselled brit accent). And when you're alone, he calls you names like "my love," "hun," "sweet cheeks."

・You're slowly learning about Simon's past, which he shares little by little.

・Too much information and he's scared you might feel overwhelmed and leave him

・There's some deep trauma there, but the army has therapists and everyone gets checked out before they're deemed mentally healthy enough.

・He does want kids, but only after he's done with the military. He would hate to be an absent father in any way. And he wouldn't want you to have that full responsibility.

・A lot of people characterise him as this traumatised man who can barely look after himself. But that is far, faaaaar from the truth. He's very competent. And he eats a LOT. But he also works out (to keep in shape, he actually hates the gym) (also he doesn't expect you to do anything of that stuff. He loves you for you.)

・I also have this headcanon that Ghost/Riley would love Metallica, Slipknot, Black Sabbath etc. It's one of the things that calm him down. However, if he's had an overwhelming day, he needs no noise whatsoever.

𝑹𝒆𝒍𝒂𝒕𝒊𝒐𝒏𝒔𝒉𝒊𝒑 𝑻𝒓𝒐𝒑𝒆𝒔

Teases Them (You) x About To End Them (Ghost)

The Moon and His Star

𝑹𝒐𝒎𝒂𝒏𝒕𝒊𝒄 𝑷𝒍𝒐𝒕 𝑻𝒓𝒐𝒑𝒆

Opposites Attract

𝑻𝒉𝒆𝒎𝒆 𝑺𝒐𝒏𝒈

Say Yes To Heaven by Lana Del Rey

Arsonist's Lullabye by Hozier

Enter Sandman by Metallica

𝑁𝑆𝐹𝑊 🔞 No one under the age of 18 past this point, I bloody mean it.

・There's almost like two sides of your s/o. The Ghost side, where the mask stays on, and he's rough, possessive, dominant. And then the Simon side, where he likes soft touches and when you gently stroke his face

・You've both discovered that Simon likes it when you wear his mask, gloves - nothing else - and touch yourself.

・Even with your cum juices on the mask, and gloves, he'll still wear them to work.

・It's the only kinky thing he brings with him while on deployment. You did want to take a naked polaroid for him but he didn't trust the other guys not to somehow see it.

・He likes keeping you as separate from army life as much as possible. Because you feel like home, and it gives him hope.

・Ghost loves taming your bratty side. He's short, demanding and can shut you up with one look.

"Keep on actin' like that, and see what happens."

・Of course you keep acting up, and when you get home, you pay for it tenfold.

・Ghost's hands are as big as a paddle, and when he has you over his knee, ass up in the air. He doesn't hesitate in leaving red marks (all consensual. He wouldn't do anything without having a conversation before hand).

𝑺𝑭𝑾🌿

ISTP

Hufflepuff

Chaotic Good

Aries Sun, Aquarius Moon, Leo Rising

𝐊𝐨̈𝐧𝐢𝐠

・A 6'10 king, who suffers from social anxiety but has this soft, silly side that he loves showing you and only you (I will take no criticisms on his height. It is LAW. My law.)

・Because of his anxiety, social aspects of life are much harder than work. He's highly skilled in combat, and has a lot of confidence in his abilities to accomplish missions.

・However, when you tried to speak to him, all he could do was stutter.

・You allowed him to get the words out, but he was an absolute mess afterwards and went to go train.

・But this didn't deter you in the slightest. Hell, you had been trying to muster the courage to speak to him for weeks...

・It took a while for Konig to open up about his past, especially his adolescence.

・He's told you the jist of it, but there's details that you don't push him on.

・One of your favourite pastimes together is going to bakeries and eating the most delicious pastries.

・When you're feeling down, or there's something to celebrate, there's no cake but pastries instead

・Doesn't mind animals, but understands that when he's away you will get a bit lonely. So you surprised him by getting a pair of kittens!

・You showed him over video chat, one white kitten and one black.

"I haven't chosen names for them yet, but I thought maybe you could have some input?"

"Schatz! The kittens are cute but you have scratch marks all over your arms!"

"They're very playful!" And then you leant closer to the camera and whispered, "I leave scratches on your back ..." And with an innocent look on your face, you watched as Konig shivered.

・Likes to put you on his lap when he's cleaning weapons, or getting the marks out of his mask or shoes. Okay honestly, he just wants you on his lap all the time. Whatever excuse he can come up with - he'll goddamn use it

・Absolutely loves Kate Bush and Stevie Nicks. He thinks they have such a beautiful sound that you can find him with headphones on, swaying in the bedroom, silently in his feels

・All your pet names are in Austrian/German:

"Schatz", meaning 'treasure'.

"Maus," meaning 'mouse.'

"Liebling" meaning 'darling.'

"Hase" meaning 'bunny'.

"Liebe" meaning 'love.'

𝑹𝒆𝒍𝒂𝒕𝒊𝒐𝒏𝒔𝒉𝒊𝒑 𝑻𝒓𝒐𝒑𝒆𝒔

Always Bringing Them Rocks They Think They Would Like (You) x Keeps The Rocks (Konig)

The Gomez & Morticia Adams

I Don’t Know What I’m Doing But At Least I’m Alive, Right? (You) x You’re Doing Great, Sweetie (Konig)

𝑹𝒐𝒎𝒂𝒏𝒕𝒊𝒄 𝑷𝒍𝒐𝒕 𝑻𝒓𝒐𝒑𝒆

Hidden Identity & Forced Proximity

𝑻𝒉𝒆𝒎𝒆 𝑺𝒐𝒏𝒈

Running Up That Hill by Kate Bush

The Chain by Stevie Nicks

Dance of the Druids by Bear McCreary (he loves movie scores as well. It's one of his fascinations).

𝑁𝑆𝐹𝑊 🔞 No one under the age of 18 past this point, makes me feel weird if you read it.

・Konig is a bit awkward at first with the sexual interactions you guys have. He does have anxiety, but also, the build up of sexual tension had been going on for months.

・All he had during that time was his hands and the memories of how you looked, the way your eyes met his then flicked downward - almost like you had x-ray vision.

・There was no denying the heat.

・So when you first hooked up it was a fumbling mess of grunting, clothes ripping and fast hands trying to touch and grab at any bare piece of flesh.

・You did have a shocking revelation that first time however. Because this man's cock is not only thick, veiny but nearly 9 inches when he's hard.

・That first time wasn't a true first time as the look on your face told Konig everything - you weren't ready for that part of him ... just yet.

・Loves when you ride his thigh; they're absolutely huge. Just muscled and bulky and the first time you saw them (without the uniform) you audibly gasped.

・His body is absolutely divine

・Like it had been sculpted by the gods. Large biceps, long legs, small waist, large shoulders. His hands wrap your neck perfectly.

・You feel so safe with him.

・And you have to remind him that, because sometimes he worries he could hurt you without meaning to.

"I'm a grown up, Konig. I can handle myself."

"So when are you going to let me fuck you?"

"mmm... I think I still have to get used to that. Maybe we can do fingers first..." (his fingers are ... fucking huge).

885 notes · View notes

astrayas · 2 months

Text

Pressure Point

Pairing: Toji Fushiguro x fem reader

Warnings: MDNI, Smut, Vaginal Fingering, Vaginal Sex

WC: 6k

Summary: When you run into Toji Fushiguro for the first time in years, you find him in the most unexpected position: as your new massage therapist.

18+!!!

Ao3 - Twitter - Ko-Fi

“…So she wasn’t able to make it in today. I’m so sorry for the short notice!”

You sling your bag back onto your shoulder and rub your neck, masking your disappointment with a polite smile.

“Oh…that’s a shame,” you say. You were really looking forward to your appointment today. Your usual masseuse is nothing less than an artist, and you’ve got plenty of knots to work out right now. “Well, when’s the next time she’s free?”

“Since you’re one of her regulars, I think we could work you in tomorrow…” the manager chirps, clicking at her computer. She takes a few minutes, clearly unfamiliar with the software. They’re really understaffed today. “But…oh! Actually, there is someone available to take you right now.”

“Oh?” You perk back up again, which is all it takes to strain your muscles. You wince just a bit. You really need some relief.

“Yes! He’s actually our top massage therapist. His new clients normally have to book him months in advance, but it looks like he had a cancellation today. I can go grab him, if you’re interested!”

You deflate just a little. Him? You’ve never seen a male massage therapist, and you weren’t planning to start today. Then your shoulder whines at you again, as if to protest your hesitation, and you’re rubbing at it before you realize it.

Well, if he’s really that good…

“Um. Sure,” you force out. “If it’s not too much trouble.”

“Not at all!” She springs to her feet and graces you with a polished customer service smile. “Please, have a seat. I’ll go let him know.”

“Thanks,” you mutter, a rush of nerves guiding your short, stilted steps to the nearest chair. You flop into it and try to reason with yourself. If you get uncomfortable, you can just leave. But he’s their top massage therapist. He obviously knows what he’s doing, and you really need—

“Nuh-uh. I don’t do walk-ins.”

A loud, gruff voice booms from the hallway, clearly audible through the thick waiting room door. Whoever’s speaking doesn’t seem to care about indoor voices. You have to strain to hear the manager’s response.

“She’s not a walk-in!” she argues. “She had an appointment, but Rei called out at the last minute.”

“Sounds like that’s Rei’s problem, then.”

After a few seconds of silence, you stand up. This sounds like more trouble than it’s worth. You can wait another day; you’ll just tell them you’ll reschedule.

“Come on! This client’s been coming to us for years. We can’t lose her!” the manager pleads.

“You can’t lose her. I’ll be just fine.”

Your lip curls in disgust as you hoist your bag over your aching shoulder. People book this guy months in advance? Whatever. You can just leave and call them later. But as you turn to walk out the door, you hear one last exchange.

“Ugh…how about this? I’ll give you a few extra days off next month.”

You pause mid-step.

“…I want a week.”

“A week?”

“I’ve been working my fingers to the bone for you for God knows how long. I want a week, or I walk.”

Another long, heavy silence, but you’re still listening.

“…Fine. Fine. I’ll make it happen. Just go out there and be pleasant, alright?”

“I’m never anything but,” the gruff voice hums, and you can just barely hear the manager groan as the door flies open. The strap on your bag slides down your shoulder at the same moment, and you look down as you pull it back up with a grimace.

“You must be the one Rei stranded today. Nice to meet you. I’m—“

He freezes mid-sentence. When you finally look back up, you freeze, too.

“Toji…” you murmur.

You’ve lost count of the years it’s been since you and Toji Fushiguro parted ways. But you could go a century without seeing that face and still recognize it. The scar on his mouth, his fierce green eyes, his strong, chiseled frame…none of it’s really easy to forget.

But it’s his most unforgettable feature—his big, wolfish grin—that traps you in place when it’s clear he recognizes you, too.

“Well, well,” he croons, an irritating melody ringing in his voice as he holds the door open and extends his hand. “Come on back, ma’am. Last door on the left.”

You shuffle past him without so much as a “Thank you” and grip the strap of your bag tight. God, why did it have to be him? Out of all the people who could have walked out of that door, why him?

You step into the room he pointed you to and take it in with wide eyes. This is certainly a step up from your usual setup with Rei. It’s bigger, but the atmosphere is so much more intimate. Soft, ambient music drifts through the room. Candles flicker on select small tables lining the perimeter of the space, playing on the velvety flower petals artfully arranged on the floor and the massage table. It’s downright romantic.

But it’s the table itself, lying in the center of the room, that draws most of your attention. It’s plush and oversized, draped in crisp, clean linens and adorned with a fluffy duvet and a lavish pillow. It almost looks like it was made for sleeping instead.

And it looks…sturdy.

“So. Been a while since you up and vanished,” Toji says with little ceremony, shutting the door behind him. “What have you been—”

“So is this a sex thing? Is that what you do here?” you blurt out. He blinks at you, mouth falling slightly open, and crosses his arms.

“Wow. That’s the first thing you say to me in six years?” he rasps.

Six years. It’s been six long years.

You blink back at him a few more times before you register what you just said, and you slap a hand to your mouth several seconds too late.

“Uh—shit—” you stutter, your hand rising to slap your forehead. “I didn’t mean—”

After some lengthy floundering, which he lets you do in perfect silence, your hands finally drop to your sides, and you heave a deep sigh.

“I just—this is a big bed—”

“You mean a massage table.”

“And apparently you’re the most requested guy here—”

“Because I’m a good massage therapist.”

“And you were a criminal the last time we talked!” you finish. Your voice rises a little more than you intended, and that goddamned knot in your shoulder spasms. You rub at it desperately and take a calming breath.

Something like a low growl rumbles in Toji’s chest as he strolls over to the sink and washes his hands.

“If I’m remembering correctly—and I am—you weren’t an upstanding citizen back then, either,” he flings back. He dries his hands, turns back around, and leans against the counter, looking you up and down. “At least my crimes were impressive.”

You set your bag on a nearby chair and scoff at him. “Yeah. So impressive I just couldn’t bear to live in your shadow anymore.”

“Cute,” he sneers. “You want the damn massage or not? Because you clearly need it.”

“Oh, like you can really tell—”

“Your right shoulder. That one’s obvious.” He pushes himself away from the counter and closes the distance between you with just a couple steps. “You keep rubbing at it like a maniac. But the way you’re standing right now tells me you have pain in your lower back, too. Right about…” He circles behind you, a shadow of a grin growing on his face before he disappears from your sight. You shiver when he rests a large, strong hand exactly where the small of your back hurts the most. “...Here.”

You spin back around and scowl at him. He holds his hands up in an innocent gesture.

“Yeah, those are my biggest problem areas,” you mutter.

“Then let’s take care of ‘em,” he proposes, sauntering over to the door. “Believe it or not, I am a professional now. I take my clients seriously.”

His eyes glint when he turns the knob.

“Even petty thieves like you.”

Your blood pressure instantly shoots through the sky.

“Don’t think I won’t—” you start, unsure of what vague threat you’re about to make, but he’s already halfway out the door.

“I’ll give you a few minutes to get undressed,” he nearly sings. “Start out face-down.”

And with that, he’s gone. The door shuts with a click, leaving every stupid knot in your back to tense up and scream even louder. You don’t even bother hanging your clothes on any of the hooks nearby, opting to pelt them to the floor instead. Infuriating. He’s infuriating. He’s every bit as infuriating as he was all those years ago, when you were just two delinquents among many wreaking havoc in town.

Back when you thought he was the sexiest, funniest, dreamiest guy on earth.

You smack some petals off the table before you settle under the sheets, lying on your stomach. Whatever. It’s not like the feeling was mutual. What did you even see in him back then, anyway? Other than the eyes and the muscles and the voice and the face and the—

Toji knocks on the door.

“You decent?” he calls from the other side.

“No,” you sniff. “But I’m under the sheet. You can come in.”

He chuckles as he lets himself back in and promptly closes the door. You can only see his feet as he walks past you and stops at the counter, and he shakes a bottle.

“Alright. So, I know your shoulder and your lower back are your biggest problems right now, but I’ll find your other pressure points as we work,” he announces, instantly professional. “But first, I need to ask if you’ve got any areas I should avoid.”

“Nope,” you inform the floor. “It’s all up for grabs.”

He laughs again, and you curse yourself under your breath. What an atrocious choice of words.

“Good to know,” he hums. Ugh. He sounds too pleased.

Your heart skips as soon as he pulls the sheet down from your shoulders all the way to just above your backside. He gets straight to work, starting by feeling for tight areas.

“Yeesh. You’ve got trigger points all the way down your back,” he marvels. “It’s almost impressive.”

“Yeah, that sounds about right,” you sigh.

You have to admit it: even now, even as he just searches and assesses, his touch is divine. It must be thanks to those dexterous fingers, those powerful hands, his shocking familiarity with every part of the human body…

You squeeze your eyes shut in a desperate bid to push the thoughts out. Stupid. Stupid. What a stupid crush you had on him. You start talking just to fill your head with something, anything else.

“How’d you even fall into this line of work? It’s not—“ Your breath hitches when you hear him squeeze some oil onto his hands and rub them together. “It’s, um…just not a career path I ever thought you’d take.”

You can hear the grin in his response. “Would you believe me if I said I wanted to help people?”

You answer with some snorting laughter, which tells him enough.

“Thought not,” he sighs. “No point in lying, then.” His hands work their way to the rough spot on your shoulder, and you brace yourself. “Honestly? It’s good money. That’s all there is to it.”

“That I believe,” you answer, screwing your eyes shut when he starts working that knot. This is going to be a rough session, you just know it.

“Jesus, you’re tight,” he mumbles, genuine shock lining his voice. “What do you do these days?”

“I’m just an office worker,” you grunt. You take a deep breath when he digs in again.

“An office worker and…what? A cage fighter? A trapeze artist? These are insane knots for an office worker.”

“I’ve got—phew—I’ve got really bad posture,” you mutter. You squirm under his movements.

“Clearly. You must be hunched over 24/7.”

This time, you don’t answer him. Deep tissue massages can hurt, sure, but this is on a whole new level. You bear with him for about another minute before you wave him away.

“God, Toji, are all your clients masochists?!” you cry, glaring at the floor. You keep lying flat on your stomach, waiting for the pain to ebb away.

“…Some are,” he croons.

Your hands tense at your sides. “So it is—”

“I’m joking, damn,” he huffs. He switches to your other shoulder and, mercifully, handles it with a lot less pressure. “I mean, I’m sure some are. I wouldn’t know. People just come to me when they’ve got injuries and chronic issues. When it comes to that slow, painful deep tissue massage, I’m the best around.”

“Solving pain with pain,” you remark. He slides down to the middle of your back and digs into a spot just to the left of your spine. “That does sound right up your alley.”

“...I see you’ve still got a mouth on you,” he grumbles, and whether consciously or not, he pushes down especially hard. You suck in a breath and screw your eyes shut. “How’d you land a cushy office job with your attitude?”

“I learned when to keep my mouth shut,” you fight to answer, focusing on your breathing. “I was wondering the same thing about you, based on that conversation I heard in the hallway. Do you always talk to your managers like that?”

“Ha!” He pulls his hands away and rubs some more oil between them. “Only the ones who can’t afford to lose me. Business has been booming since I started here. And, damn, you should see the tips I get.”

“Tips?” you squawk, pushing yourself onto your elbows and staring up at him. “What do you mean, you get tips? What do you do to earn tips?”

“Um.”

Toji clears his throat and looks to the side. It’s only when he physically covers his eyes with his hand do you realize you pushed yourself so far up you nearly exposed your chest.

“Oh. Sorry…” you mumble, flopping back down. Heat erupts on your skin. You’re really excelling at making an ass of yourself today.

“What’s with you?” he grunts. He presses a palm against that sore spot at the small of your back. “We’re allowed to accept tips here. Why are you so sure I’m just doing weird sex stuff?”

Before you can answer, he starts applying pressure to the spot. Lots of it. To your surprise, it actually feels…good. So in lieu of a response, you simply let out a groan that lasts a little too long. And just beneath it, just for a moment, you swear you can hear a pleased sound humming in him, too.

“Don’t tell me…” His thumbs rub the small of your back in slow, deep circles. “...you were hoping for it?”

Your eyes shoot open. But he pushes in again, granting you deeper relief, and you lose the will to snap back at him. Not when he’s finally easing all that tension.

“Are you disappointed I don’t offer any special services?”

“Gimme a break,” you manage to say. But that’s all you say before his hands slide down to your glutes. Over the sheet, of course, like a professional, and he’s stroking them like any professional massage therapist would. But that doesn’t change the fact that, in a less professional sense…his hands are still on your ass.

“Well, I don’t blame you,” he boasts. He slides a little lower. He’s…really working those glutes. “I know why I really get so many requests. I know why my tips are so great. I mean, just look at me—”

“Don’t flatter yourself,” you spit, wriggling out of his hands and flipping onto your back. You’re careful to keep the sheet over your chest this time. “I heard enough of that for a lifetime back in the day.”

“Hey. I’m not done with your back,” he pouts, frowning at you.

“Can we come back to it later? You’re gonna break it at this rate.”

“Coulda just asked me to be gentler.” He lifts the sheet away from your left leg and takes your foot in his hand. “I can do that.”

As if to prove his point, he uses a single thumb to gently stroke the inside of your arch. Exactly where it aches after a long day in heels. How did he know that was a sore spot, too?

“I listen to my clients,” he continues, stretching out your foot and sliding up your leg. He starts kneading the lowest part of your thigh, just above the knee. “Another reason why I end the day with so much extra cash.”

“I get it,” you mutter. “You have an awesome job and you make lots of money because you’re super hot. Congratulations.”

“Super hot, huh?” he whirs. “I mean, I know, but it’s nice to hear from that mouth you allegedly know how to keep shut.”

“Ugh.” You desperately try to focus your attention on the soothing motions of his fingers. “Can’t believe I used to have such a big crush on you.”

For a moment, for a fleeting, measly fraction of a second, his hands jerk. Then they pick back up as usual, gliding a little farther up your thigh. It takes him a few seconds to answer.

“Did you, now?”

Your brows furrow, but you keep your eyes closed.

“C’mon, Toji, it was so obvious,” you sigh. “There’s no way you didn’t know.”

“I really didn’t,” he says flatly. His fingers dig a little deeper into your skin. “We ran with a big group, remember? I…didn’t get to see you as much as I wanted to.”

You shift a bit under his touch. “As much as you wanted to?”

“...See? You didn’t know I had a thing for you, either.”

His fingers linger on your thigh, rubbing the same spot over and over. Finally, you open your eyes. You sit up to rest on your elbows and look right at him. And in the dim, flickering candlelight, you take a moment to really study his face for the first time in six years.

Six years that haven’t done much to age him, really. His jaw is still strong and sharp. The deep scar etched into his lip still hasn’t faded. His hands, which you’ve become very familiar with today, are still powerful, with veins and tendons that ripple just beneath the skin, with fingertips calloused but not rough. And his muscles are still toned and strong, if that tight black t-shirt has anything to say about it.

“Well. What could have been, right?” you murmur. You glance to the side and let your head fall back onto the table; you can’t bear to hold eye contact any longer.

After a long, tense moment, he pulls the sheet back over your left leg and moves to your other side.

“...Yeah. What could’ve been.”

He moves up your leg the same way he did the first, every knead and stroke therapeutic, but something feels different about his touch. It’s more…clinical. Truly professional now. Like you’re just any other client.

You fight the sinking feeling in your chest. The fact that he never showed he was interested in you stings a little, but that doesn’t matter anymore. There’s a reason you left the way you did. Toji wasn’t good for you, and you weren’t good for him. Nobody in that group you ran with was good for each other. You had to leave while you were still just a petty thief. Before you started racking up “impressive” crimes like him.

Toji’s still quiet as he pulls the sheet back over your legs and moves to the head of the table, settling on a rolling chair and scooting forward. You open your eyes again but look at nothing in particular. You don’t know what to look at. You don’t know what to say.

His hands slide under your shoulders, searching for that especially tight spot again. The moment he finds it, he digs in. You clench your teeth and bear it. Working out a knot can hurt. He’s doing his job. Just let him do his job. Just let him—

“Why’d you leave?”

Your eyes fly back open. His hands haven’t stopped working, but they have slowed.

“What?” you squeak.

“Why did you leave?” he repeats. You glance up and find him staring right back down at you, those deep green eyes glimmering even in the dim light. “Why did you just up and leave like that? No note, no nothin’?”

“Because…” You take a deep breath. It’s been a while since you’ve thought about those days. “Because I just couldn’t keep going like that. I couldn’t keep spending every day scoping out targets, planning which stores I’d hit next. I had to get out and make something of myself. I did it, and…look, you did it, too.”

“But why did you leave like that?” he carries on, his voice tinged with something close to desperation. “Why did you just disappear? Do you know how much that killed me? To just lose you like that, overnight, no explanation?”

You fight against a new sensation in your chest. It’s something rising, growing, gnawing.

“Because if I’d said anything, you would’ve tried to make me stay,” you answer.

“I couldn’t sleep at night wondering what happened to you.”

“You were the only one who could have made me stay.”

“When I could sleep, you were in my dreams.”

“You never needed me, Toji! You didn’t need me then, and you don’t need me now!”

“Fuck you for thinking that. And fuck you for just leaving.”

“Fuck you for making me think you wouldn’t care!”

He doesn’t respond to you before he flies to his feet, takes a breath, and walks back to the other end of the table.

“Lie back,” he says. “We’re not done with your massage.”

“Huh?”

“Lie back,” he repeats. “I’ve got some more pressure points to work out.”

“Uh…alright?” you mutter, and slowly, you settle back onto the table and stare at the ceiling. Goosebumps rise on your skin when he pulls the sheet back from one leg again, lifting it all the way to the top of your thigh this time. He squeezes some more oil onto his hands and rests his palm on your knee.

“Did you know you’ve got a lot of tension down here, too?” he asks, his voice low.

“I mean, it wouldn’t surprise me. I’m tense everywhere.”

“You really are,” he confirms with a soft laugh. “Like…when I was massaging your legs, I kept feeling you tense up when I got around…” His fingers snake their way to your inner thigh. “Here.”

You suck in a breath. “Well, that’s a sensitive area, so…”

And you’re sure you’re tensing up now. But the heated exchange you just shared is still ringing in your ears. That would leave anyone tense, right?

And it’s normal for your legs to part when they’re tense…right?

Your other leg has only moved a few inches away. But it’s a shift big enough for Toji to notice, and he glances down with a smirk.

“Is it, now?” he purrs. His fingers crawl a little higher up your leg. “Sensitive here, too?”

“Uh-huh…” you murmur, gripping the sheet below you. He’s reaching pretty far up. If he keeps going, it won’t be long before he finds out just how sensitive you’ve been from the moment he started touching you.

But you don’t stop him. You don’t want to.

“And how about—” he starts, but he stops himself when his thumb swipes across one part of your inner thigh a little too quickly. Like it slipped on something slick.

Your eyes shoot over to him. Well, secret’s out now. But still…you were dripping that far down your leg? That’s almost embarrassing.

His expression, though, suggests he doesn’t think so.

“Oh…” he whispers with a heavy voice, a strained voice, a voice that tells you all professionalism just flew out the window. “I think I know where you’re holding a lot of tension.”

Your heart flutters when his fingers dance their way up to the source of all that tension, when his knuckles graze it with all the pressure of a feather. It starts to ache the same way it did for him years ago, when you thought he never had eyes for you.

“Think you can help me with it?” you invite, parting your legs a little wider.

That little smirk grows into the same wolfish grin he first greeted you with. One finger, one long, strong finger, circles your entrance and slides in. You’re melting and moaning in the same moment, relishing the new ferocity lighting up his eyes.

“I think I can,” he breathes, sliding his finger in and out, up and down. “A special service just for you, since you’re just so damn—” Another finger slips in to join the first. “—tight.”

He waits until he’s up to his palm before he curls both fingers upward, searching for that spot, the source of all that pressure inside you. It takes him all of a second to find it. He beckons back and forth, up and down. He spreads his fingers ever so slightly, settling on a pressure that commands all your attention to that area.

You whimper and close your eyes. There’s so much you want to say. You want to find out where he learned to do that. You want to tease him, ask him how much he’s practiced. But this moment would be better spent, you remind yourself, simply enjoying this instead. So you part your legs a little wider and let him demonstrate just how well he’s learned to use his hands.

He leans forward just far enough to let you glue your hands to his shoulders. As he does, his other hand comes down to push just above your pelvis, his palm grazing your clit, and that tension rises higher and higher.

Then he leans in a little more. Every flicker of the candles reveals a new detail you’d missed in his face before. Every night of sleep he lost. Every day he thought of you. Every test he faced to make something more of himself, just like you did. Your hands work their way up to cradle either side.

And that’s it.

His lips are on yours, and his fingers pump faster. You claim each other in a kiss six years overdue, a kiss so desperate and needy and vicious it nearly consumes you. His tongue finds its way into your mouth and explores it freely. His teeth dig into your lower lip, a gesture as rough as his massage, but it brings you nothing but pleasure.

Pleasure that grows and grows and grows with all that tension he’s working out of you, so close to releasing. Your eyes start to flutter; your nails sink into his shoulders; your walls clench tighter and tighter.

“There it is,” he murmurs, encouraging you to keep going. “Let it loose. Let it out. Let me feel you let it out.”

The palm he’d left on your stomach presses down a little harder, condensing all that pressure into a volatile ball. His fingers beckon your pleasure forward quickly, deftly, and you writhe when you feel your tension threaten to release all at once.

And it releases like an explosion, knocking your head back and pushing your back up from the table. You try to buck your hips, but his hold on your pelvis is so strong that you ride out your ecstasy between his hands instead. Your walls convulse around his fingers uncontrollably, which he holds in place until your tumultuous release fades to gentle ripples.

And when those, too, die down, he captures your lips in another greedy kiss.

“How’s that tension?” he asks with a sly grin.

“Hmm…” You hold a finger to your chin and pretend to think. “Better, but I think there’s still some left.”

Your eyes flick down to his pants, which do little to hide what kind of tension he might be feeling now, too.

“If you’re still up for helping me work it out, I mean,” you add, letting the rest of the sheet fall from your chest. He allows himself a brazen, longing glance at it before he stands back up and pulls his fingers out, making you jerk.

“For such an important new client? Of course,” he hums. And like he just can’t help himself, he’s already slipping a thumb under the waistband of his pants. “If you could just get face-down again, ma’am.”

You giggle and flip back onto your stomach, tossing the rest of the sheet to the floor. Toji lets out a low whistle of appreciation when he finally sees you completely uncovered.

“Goddamn,” he mutters. And that table proves just as sturdy as you imagined when it barely even jostles as he joins you on it, pushing your legs apart and settling between them on his knees. His hands roam across your body, drawing hard lines between your shoulders, down your back, up and across and around your ass. You turn your face to one side and rest it against the plush table, enjoying every movement of his skilled fingers.

“Goddamn, goddamn,” he repeats, just to really drive the point home. He keeps one hand on your ass while the other pulls itself away. A couple fingers slide up and down your slit, just long enough to make it tingle, and then…he’s lined up with your entrance. A wave of anticipation ripples through you, emerging only as a faint shiver.

“So. Here’s what we’re gonna do. I’m gonna push down and push in,” he says, palming the small of your back. “Still gotta work out those knots, after all.”

“Wow. Truly dedicated to your craft,” you snicker.

“Like I said, I’m a professional. Now, breathe in…”

“Huh? Why?”

“Just do it. Breathe in…”

You look back at him with a raised brow, but you do as he says and take in a deep breath.

“And out…”

You breathe out a lot more quickly than you were planning to when you start feeling pressure everywhere. His thumbs are digging into your back, stroking it in even circles. But he’s pushing into you at the same time, filling you out slowly, completely. The arousal that’s practically pooled inside of you lets him slide in easily, but it still takes a second to adjust to his size. Your face falls back onto the crisp linen sheet beneath you, your eyes closing and your lips parting as you embrace that delectable fullness.

“Good?” he asks behind you once he’s fully buried in you, and one hand slides back down to grab your ass.

“Very good,” you confirm.

You and Toji groan in tandem when he pulls his hips back, dragging himself slowly along your walls, and pushes back in. The moment you relax around him, he thrusts a little faster. And faster, and faster, and faster, until he has to secure a hold on your hips.

What a pro, you think to yourself with a smirk. How did he know? How did he know this was just the pressure you needed?

“Just when I was starting to forget about you,” he growls, snapping back against your hips. He doesn’t spare a single inch every time he drives himself back into you. Your jostle forward and bunch what you can of the sheets between your trembling fingers. “I was just starting to forget you, and you had to go and waltz back into my life. That’s just like you.”

Your answer barely comes out as anything more than a few pathetic whimpers. “Then maybe this time—fuck—you shouldn’t—”

His fingers bury themselves in your hips.

“Let me—”

He leans forward until his chest meets your back, his hot breath tickling the nape of your neck. His rhythm starts to falter.

“Go.”

Your words must spark some new flame in him. Because he’s pounding into you mercilessly now, driving deep inside you and hitting that perfect spot again and again. You whimper, you mewl, you muffle your groans against the pillow, and your walls start to flutter around his cock.

“You think I’ll let you go now?” he snarls, a low, rumbling sound that reverberates through your skin. “No. Not now. Not when I’ve finally got you like I’ve always wanted you.”

He plants ravenous, messy kisses against your neck. His teeth graze your shoulder, threatening to clamp down and make good on his claim.

Shit. You’re getting close again. Your groans rise until he has to hold a hand against your mouth.

And you know you should keep it down, lest you ruin this good job he’s landed for himself. But you can’t stop a wordless cry from trying to push its way through his palm when that tension shatters inside you again, releasing wave after wave of ecstasy. He shudders and hisses behind you, his hips snapping and jerking and stuttering until he pulls out of you. His release lands on your back a moment later.

For a few seconds, neither of you say anything or move a muscle. You simply soak in the afterglow six years in the making, your ragged breaths overpowering the soft, ambient music. Then Toji finally breaks the silence with a simple remark:

“Fuck.”

“Fuck,” you agree.

You stay on your stomach, eyes closed, as he pushes himself off the massage table and pulls his pants back on.

“Just a sec,” he mumbles. You simply nod, lying motionless where you are as he wipes his mess off your back. “And…hour’s almost up. I’d like to keep working out your knots all day, believe me, but I do have a client coming in.”

You blink your eyes back open. For a moment, you wonder if you should say what’s on your mind. If this one-time reunion should stay a one-time reunion. But with or against your better judgment, you decide to voice what you really want, instead.

“I’ll just have to come back for another session, then, right?”

You flip back over and sit up to find him already grinning at you.

“I was hoping you’d say that,” he chuckles as he finishes buckling his belt. He steps up to you and takes your face in his hands, rubbing a soothing thumb across your cheek. His eyes flick to your lips, and he steals one more long, hard, greedy kiss before he takes the dirty towel with him to the door. “...I’ll give you a minute to get dressed.”

When he shuts the door, you hop off the table onto shaky legs and fumble to put your clothes back on. You comb your fingers through your hair and adjust your skirt, ready to face the world after a truly satisfying…massage.

The manager’s still sitting at the front desk when you walk back into the waiting room. She looks up from her computer and greets you with a big smile.

“Wow, you look happy!” she pipes up. “I take it Toji took good care of you?”

“Yeah,” you say, hoisting your bag back onto your shoulder. Funny. He didn’t spend that much time on it, but it already feels so much lighter. “I feel great.”

Toji appears in the doorway, wiping his hands on a new towel, smirking at you and leaning against the frame.

“I’m so glad to hear that! So, did you want to—”

“Book her for next week,” Toji says so nonchalantly, like he’s just finished up an average session. The manager beams at you, clearly pleased that their center could make it up to you after their blunder today. Toji looks right at you, too, when he shares another note.

“She’s gonna be one of my regulars.”

#toji x reader #toji fushiguro #toji x you #toji smut #jjk #jujustu kaisen #toji x y/n #jjk smut #jjk toji

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gremlingottoosilly · 9 months

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[If you need to be mean] chapter 4

Chapter 1 Chapter 2 Chapter 3

Your date with a new guy isn't good for you. Konig is inclined to show you that. TW: Konig being a huge pervert, Canon-Typical violence, Dub-Con, Innocence kink, Age difference(Konig in his yearly 40, Reader in young 20)

Pairing: Konig x fem!Reader Tags: Fluff, Power Imbalance, Hurt/Comfort, Size Kink, Possessive Konig, Yandere Konig, Creepy scary stalker Konig, written mostly from Konig's perspective TW for this chapter: Drug use, Attempted date rape. Please, proceed with caution.

He can kill a person in under 10 seconds.

Time cuts in half if he is allowed to use weapons – but it would go up to ten minutes if the victim is particularly bitchy, he has an ax to grind, and he wants to take his time with a knife to gut the person’s insides out of their body.

All time in the world wouldn’t be enough to torture this unforgivable, terrible, disgusting son of a bitch who decided that he can just come out and take what rightfully belong to him. A man whose desires are literally printed on that stupid grin plastered on his face. He transfers it in the movement of his hand when he holds your waist too tight, when he smiles and laughs at your – adorable, funny, perfect – jokes and.

König prides in always being the silent one, the calm, collected guy who is capable of holding his emotions inside of him until they would eventually die down and leave him without any big, terrible feelings. He uses battlefield as a way to reveal his emotions, to unveil it in a more healthy way – and sometimes he visits his therapist, explains all of the horrible stuff he sometimes wants to do to people around him, or someone from his past, and then waits for a new portion of sedatives that he won’t use because he is stronger than this, who they think he is?

König takes pride in never talking if something isn’t right – he would simply change the situation, make it better, always the type to do stuff and not talk about doing stuff – but then he looks at the bastard who took you on something that can’t be anything but a date, and he is fuming. They aren’t supposed to kill civilians, of course, soldiers are here to protect them, to hunt for terrorists who prey upon innocent victims, just like your fragile self – but for god's sake, if he never had to restrict himself more than right now. He has to do something about it, he can’t just let his girl, his perfect future wifey to just…whore herself around to other people!

Yes, you are not yet aware of his plans, but he knows that you are faithful – just, perhaps, a bit dumb and not realizing yet who you belong to. It’s fine, he can’t just let you have agency over something that is just beyond control of your silly, fragile mind. He is fine with you being a bit too naive – he doesn’t need you to be smart or capable, or even independent, he would take care of everything as long as you are pliant and docile for him. As long as he is willing to do whatever it takes to keep you safe, of course.

He can disassemble a body in under 5 minutes. Bones are usually the toughest part, especially if he doesn’t have a proper bone saw in his arsenal, but he can always dispose of it by using the strength of his enormously big body – he is working out for a reason, and he has done lots of unforgivable things to conceal the truth behind some of the crimes he committed in service. He isn’t proud of this, but if his skills would help him dispose of the body of this guy, he would do it in a blind of an eye.

His size isn’t allowing him to follow you two properly – and, unfortunately, he only saw you in the end of this supposed date, walking down the street with your body already shaking from alcohol intake. This is completely unsafe, he thinks – you are so soft, so fragile right now, you shouldn’t even be walking on the street like this. You can get hurt, someone can take advantage of you, you are still wearing the dress that is too fucking short to be walking out in the street at this hour, and your makeup is adorable and nice, but he doesn’t even want to think about all that unwanted attention your wasted body can attract right now.

If you were with him, he would call a taxi already, make sure that you are at home safely – or go with you, take you to his place and prepare some water and hangover medicine. He wouldn’t just parade you like that, allowing you to giggle drunkenly and cling on his body. He would…okay, maybe he would take your body in his hands at first, but then he would find you a nice and comfy place to sleep, so he could gently touch your hair the whole night and watch as you would sleep softly, only sometimes waking up so he could hold your hair while you are puking your insides out.

If you were with him…but you aren’t. You’re on a date with some douchebag, smiling and clinging on his hand, allowing him to hold your waist and let his hand slip to your butt. König almost wants to laugh – he forgot how dumb civilians might be, how naive, how weak. He should feel betrayed that you, a perfect little lady of his dreams, is out with someone else – and he would be, he ought to punish you for this later, but he knows that he can’t really blame you. You are weak, docile, your pretty head has no thoughts besides sunshines and maybe rainbows – just like a normal civilian. You can’t really be blamed for not understanding yet what relationships you two have, and why you can’t break it to be with another man.

*** You are not having fun.

It wasn’t as clear at first, when the guy – Tomas, of course, you studied his nametag for a week at least before he finally asked you out, even though you really thought it would just be a friendly gesture. He asked you for a few drinks, said something about your colleagues also being here – a little friendly gathering with your coworkers, a nice way to relax from all the terrorist threats and that shitty manager you have. It was supposed to be a fun thing, nothing serious, and you really like that guy – maybe even in a romantic sense. He is handsome, kinda cool, your age and works with you – a recipe for nice little fling, yes?

Then no one came and you were messaging all your colleagues who were close to you – and no one knew anything about a friendly gathering at the local pub.

Then he proposed to pay for your drinks and you agreed – a nice way to save some money, you would repay him later, maybe in the next pub after this one, so it won’t drain both of your paychecks.

Then the drinks started to feel too heavy. You never got drunk so fast before, only one cocktail already made your head buzz with alcohol, and you almost want to change your order to a virgin mojito, but then you would probably seem like a buzzkill. You don’t want to be a buzzkill, poor guy is sad enough that no one comes to his makeshift party. Besides, if one drink is kicking you off so hard, it can also save you money – so it really is just a win-win situation and even if his hand slights a bit too deep in your thighs, and the pub seems too sleazy and empty for a friendly date, you are already too wasted to tell.

Then you drink, and drink, and he doesn’t seem so weird anymore – besides, you did like him a lot. Besides, he paid for your drinks and it’s really nice, he even proposed to watch over your glass while you are out to the bathroom. You would try to splash water over your face to feel a bit more sober, but that would ruin your makeup – so you just cool your hand in some cold stream while hoping that this is just a moment of weakness and you would be okay after a few minutes.

Then you aren’t okay and you really, really don’t want to be a buzzkill, but you quietly ask him to just go home – and he is walking you to his place, so you won’t have to suffer through hangover alone. It’s really nice of him, he supports your weight and you would just call an uber, but no one wants to work so closely to the curfew, and you can’t really break it again – unless you want that creepy scary terrifying handsomely weird colonel to catch you again, but in even more guilty state. Your state of mind isn’t clear, but Tomas helps you walk and he gently rubs your waist and you don’t even listen to him, just giggle from his compliments. He asks if you want him to stay – and you laugh because you don’t really feel good, you feel out of control mostly, and your body feels too light and too heavy at the same time, but he holds your hair and asks again and you almost begin to panic but hey, there really isn’t much to panic about, he is good guy, right, and then…

You are not sure if you want him to be this close to you, but every time you try to make a small distance between your bodies, he clings on even more, and you aren’t sure how long you can keep doing this. He is a good guy, and you don’t want to be rude, he is probably just worried about you – you are so dizzy, you can just fall any second and this will be your fault completely. He pushes you deeper in the alley and you feel nauseous – he is too much, too close, he holds you too tight and you feel like you are going to puke. Tomas holds you close and you almost panic – but you shouldn’t, it should be fine, he is just worried about you, but it feels so weird, sick, you don't want to be here suddenly. Don’t want to feel so weak in his grasp.

— W…wait, Tom. I don’t feel so good, I…sorry, I shouldn’t be drinking so much.

You are in front of his house – he cuts the way through the alley, basically dragging you over to the place, and you don’t like it anymore. You want to be at your home, puking in that shitty bathroom of yours – all alone, at least, drink some emergency medicine and hope that you could still go to work tomorrow.

— Hey, are you alright?

He is attentive and nice and you feel bad for being such a bitch about everything, you totally ruined his evening by being such a lightweight – there is something dark in his eyes, and you are scared that this is contempt of you. That he hates being around you so, so fucking much because you are nothing but a buzzkill to him.

— I’m…sorry, I think I should just call a ride home.

— Come on. You really think this is what’s best now?

— I don’t feel so good, sorry, I…

—A guy deserves something for being nice, no? I paid for your drinks after all.

You want to say that he only paid for one drink that got you drunk too fast. You want to say that this doesn't feel right, that you shouldn’t be so wasted out of one cocktail, that you feel wrong, weird, that you really, really don’t want to be with him right now. He holds you too close and you try to ge tout of his grasp, but you feel too fucking heavy.

Something is wrong.

Suddenly, he doesn’t seem like such a good guy as before.

— Sorry, I don’t…I think I need to go to the hospital, I…

His grasp on wrists became bruising. You don’t want to be here anymore, you want to yell for someone to help you get the fuck out of here – but your mouth feels like its full of water and dry at the same time, you don’t want to yell because what if you are just overthinking, and he is genuinely a nice guy. What if you will only disturb people around here – his neighbors probably need to sleep already, you don’t want to be a nuisance.

— Well, sorry I’m not that fancy army guy.

— It’s not like this, I don’t even…

— You just love behaving like you’re too good for this place, yeah? Sorry for disturbing you with our poor vibes, princess.

He is angry now, and you are not even sure why – you can’t even master a normal sentence when your head is spinning and your throat can’t even master a tiny breath anymore, you are barely even able to talk.

— I…

— I’m getting really sick of waiting for your majesty to pay attention. Think I deserve something nice for my patience.

He grabs your hands even tighter and drags you to his apartment – your body feels heavy, you don’t want to be here with him, he is talking nonsense and blaming you for someone that you don’t even know – you barely remember him by now. He is speaking, talking about something – until he isn’t.

Then you hear something crack and this is what the curtain call for your tired, exhausted mind to shut off finally.

*** König can kill a person in under 10 seconds – even less if he has a weapon.

Fucking asshole who tried to force himself on you doesn’t even deserve his sadistic streak – he don’t want to waste time on killing him, precous minutes that he can spend tending to your needs. If it was under different circumstances – if your limp body weren’t lying on the ground right now, gently pushed down by his reaction when you first started to fall down – he would think about torturing this guy a bit more.

Firstly, he would break his fingers – one by one. It’s not as effective a way of torturing someone as pulling their nails off, for example, since a person can die much easier from that kind of pain – but he would do it anyway, just so he can get the kick out of destroying the hands that were touching you.

Secondly, he would do something with his face – maybe burn the fuck out of his filthy mouth, that dared to speak to you in such rude manner. He would pull his tongue off, slowly break each of his teeth – right until pulling them also, enjoying the sight of blood dripping from his broken lips. you would be terrified probably – so he won’t make you watch it, would just ask you nicely to sit somewhere and smile until he is doing all the dirty work. He would love doing this for you – and you could just lick the blood from his hands later.

Guy would probably be unconscious by this point – a good way to toss him like a piece of garbage he is, leaving him to slowly bleed out somewhere secure, where no one would ever find him. Then, König could return to you – and your innocent little smile, your trembling hands and cold body in need for warming up.

But he doesn't have much time right now – he just snapped the bastard’s head while not even caring if someone is watching. If there is someone who saw the scene and didn’t help you – he would go for them too. Protector of his country can have a bit of collateral damage, as a treat. You are his biggest priority and right now you are laying on the ground, barely moving – he only sees your chest moving up and down, the only thing that helps him not to panic from thinking that you are dead. He gently holds your body upright, making sure to support your head – like a small baby, even though he was never holding one.

He has quite a few experiences in taking care of his drunk comrades – he would usually just toss them out of the bar and into whatever taxi was available. If he is feeling generous – and they are out of car service available in the area – he would even drag them on his shoulder, given that even with men in full gear and a wall of muscles, he is still larger and stronger.

But he can’t just toss you around like a bag of potatoes, you are fragile! And helpless, and adorable, and he wants to kill that bastard a second time because you are clearly intoxicated and he doesn't even want to think about what could have happened if he wasn’t here to save you. You look perfect, placed in his arms like a good and obedient girl. He is almost caught in fantasies again, but the weight of your body in his hands is bringing him back to reality.

You smell like alcohol and something sweet, a nice fragrance that you used for this day – jealousy is eating him from the inside, because his adorable little lady didn’t put perfume for him. For that asshole instead, but at least he is dead now – neck twisted and head snapped, quick and silent job. He just tossed his body in the nearest trash can, knowing that even if police did try to find him as a convict, they would be forced to look away if they don’t want to have problems with the local military.

König remembers the path to your house like he came here every day. He wants this to be true, but this rathole isn’t safe for you. He needs to get you out of here, to place you in the safety of his lap, where he could hug you and cherish you and worship the paradise you are keeping between your legs, waiting for him to come and ripen you. No one is out in the streets at this hour, and he moves fast enough that he covers the ground fairly fast.

You stir slightly in his grasp and he moves his hands a little, hugging the curve of your ass a bit more. Your thighs are soft and he pushes his fingers deeper in the plumpness of your flesh, enjoying the sensation – you are wearing some skimpy dress and a short jacket, once again not being dressed up to the weather. He almost wants to give you a good spanking, bend you over his knee and beat the flesh of your ass until you learn his lesson. The image of your adorable crying face, begging him to stop and meowling about being a good girl for him makes his pants tighter – and he drags you closer to him, heating your body with his.

You are addictingly small in his hands, he has to use all what’s left of his self control to not grab your body in inappropriate places. He pushes you closer to the door of your apartment once he is trying to search for the keys in your pocket – it’s hard when you are still unconscious but still moves in his hands, trying to resist even if he is not doing anything. He wants you to cry under him, to get crazy from stimulation as he slams his hips in yours, breeding you like a good little puppy you are – but he wants you to beg him to do this, to allow him to. He almost manages with his anxiety over the years, but the deeply rooted fear of rejection makes him self-conscious.

— W…wait, don’t ‘ouch me…

König almost freezes in place. Your voice is small, broken, he can sense the tears in your tone as he gently rocks you in his hands. Your place is even worse on the inside, and he absolutely can’t have you staying here for long – but he also doesn’t want to drag an intoxicated and probably drugged girl to the base, leaving his reputation to become even more monstrous. He can invite you to his quarters later, when you both would have time for a very harsh conversation about safety – and why you are a dumb little civilian who shouldn’t ever be thinking for herself if she knows what’s good for her. He can be there for you, and deliver the well-deserved punishment on your body.

— Quiet, mein Schatz. It’s alright now.

— No, wait, I…wait…

You are still half-asleep when he gently moves your limp body to the couch, touching your hair even so gently. You are so pliant right now, so docile – afraid of him, of course, it breaks his heart, but it also makes his pants tighter. König enjoyed having you so weak in his arms, just like a good sweetheart should be – not making him feel anxious with the possibility of rejection, not making him angry for not listening to his demands.

He can have you now – not like you would be able to resist.

His large hands moving your head to the pillow, softly placing your face to the side so if you would feel sick, you won’t choke on your own vomit – he has too many experiences of very good soldiers almost dying from such mundane reasons, and he can’t have his little bunny suffering from such disgusting fate. He can’t help but touch your hair constantly, enjoying the feeling of it under his fingers – he tangles up with the strands of it, massaging your scalp only to make you let go of a small groan and frown in your sleep, unaware of the stimulation.

Your apartment is tiny, even more so – for him. The ceilings are dangerously low above his head and if he wasn't hunching down constantly, trying to make himself smaller, safer for you, he would already bump into your ceiling lamp a few times. He smiles under his mask, happy that even if you were awake, his expression is concealed – he has a wide, scary grin on his face and it only grows larger every time you shift slightly in your sleep, but ultimately allows him to touch your body as he seems fit.

He can lose control - so easily. You are helpless, limp on the couch even as your eyes are fluttering awake and you take in your surroundings. Your dress is dangerously short, and he can’t help but stare at your curves – your legs are making him go crazy with desire, fantasies about spreading them and burying his face in the sweetness of your cunt are flooding his mind. It would be so easy, just make sure you wouldn’t be able to resist and…

— Wh…what happened?

You are so fucking fragile – like a fine porcelain doll that his mother liked to collect. All wrapped up in your own weakness, face flushed and eyes filled with tears as you realize that you are laying on the couch in your home, and he – the man who scared you more than any terrorist or war ever can – is softly touching your hair, playing with any loose strands.

You want to panic – but he softly pushes a finger against your lips. König doesn’t care what your neighbors would think if you cried or screamed, but the walls here are thin, and he doesn’t want to deal with the police and showing off his military badge to any corrupt scum that lives in this country. Your eyes darted to him, terrified – and he doesn’t want this, no, he can’t have you afraid of him. A little bit of fear is okay, it’s normal, he can train that out of you – but he would prefer his wifey to be madly in love, not madly terrified.

— It’s okay. I took care of that Arschloch for you.

Your mind is still dizzy, your throat is dry as you try to master at least some meaningful words. Drug is still not out of your system completely – you understand that it was a drug now, you couldn’t be so drunk from just one cocktail, no matter the alcohol content. Tomas tried to do something to you – but you blacked out before he even got you to his apartment, and now you are home, at your favorite shitty couch, with a monster of a man holding you close.

You want to cry, but his hands are oddly warm and you lean closer to his touch.

You want to panic, but he pushes his fingers against your lips and you slightly calm down.

— Tomas? Is he…

— Ja, meine Liebe. He’s dead.

You are feeling sick. The knot in your stomach, anxiety mixed with alcohol and drugs is making you nauseous, you are scrambling on your feet as you try to get out of the couch – your place might not be the best choice out here, but you pride yourself in at least keeping it clean. He helps you get on your feet, supporting your limp head as you desperately try not to puke on the carpet.

He killed him? How did he die? Did he do something to you while you were asleep? Did he…

— Let me help you, ja?

— I picked up a shift in the morning…

— You are not working here anymore.

— But…

— Don’t fight me, lamm.

He drags you to the toilet and holds your hair as you empty your anxieties away, and the scene is disgusting – but he can’t help but to relish in how adorable you look. All helpless, your body is barely holding together when he tries his best to be gentle, rubs circles in your back and pats your head softly.

König has a lot of experience in dealing with stuff like this – mostly for himself, when his nerves got the best of him and he couldn’t shit them off. He used to be drunk – one of the reasons why he isn’t taking his meds is just so he could drink enormous amounts of alcohol, enough for his body to finally get drunk. He knows how terrible the intoxication feels when you’re alone – so he wants to take care of you, brings you a glass of water as you hug the corner of your bathtub and tries your best to calm down.

He looks at your trembling form and fights the desire to kiss you. He knows that he can, you won’t be able to do anything against it – but he wants you to like him, wants you to be as into him as he is. If he wants his proposal to be perfect, you have to like him – so he gently rocks your body from side to side, allowing you to cry on his shoulder.

You feel terrible – dirty even, weak, afraid of what else might happen with you while you can barely control yourself. Thoughts of what might happen if Tomas had his way flooded your brain – but the gentle hands on your back supported you, warming you up. Your head is still dizzy when you drink water that he bringed, cold liquid helps you a little. You feel his hands on your body, as he takes off your dress – you try to panic, to cling onto your clothes, but he is too strong, too large, too…

He moves you to your couch, placing you on the sheets softly.

He is tucking your blanket over your body and opens the window for better ventilation.

He roams through your medkit and places Ibuprofen and a glass of water on your bed stand.

He moves his body slightly so he can kiss your lips – not even caring that you are not exactly in the best condition for kisses.

You fall asleep right when he moves you to the side again and closes the door behind him.

König can only thank your intoxicated state that you didn’t even notice how he took your underwear when he undressed you – a small prize for his help, no? Perhaps, the only thing that can keep his hands off your adorable, precious body.

He should start looking for rings already. (Comments and asks are appreciated. Tell me what you liked about this work!!) ---------------------------------TAG LIST--------------------------------- @shigbby @honeeybeezzz @herefornanami-s-cake @pendalikespasta @lucylou302 @yxllowtxpe @sunbathed-sweetgrass @sarah-ardini @teenagegever2k22 @lastwordsofadyingstar @lavenderskye29 @karrotsforyou @inlovewithcodmen @onegami @keithehe @lilahbunny @ameneminimo @beepyboopbop @ms-munchkin @dinonacho @undeadgod @dizeesstuff @mingkiiii @midwesternwitchery @yxllowtxpe @flammenwerferpanzerkampfhund @keithehe @iytatsworld @r02eg0ld @cumikering @ysljoon @m1ndbrand @captain-heebie-jeebie @bluenredndeath

#call of duty #cod x reader #cod x you #konig mw2 #cod #konig x reader #reader insert #yandere cod #yandere konig #yandere x reader #male yandere #yandere imagines #yandere x you

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plussizefantasia · 6 months

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Trick-Or-Treat

Flufftober Day 31: Trick or Treat

Bucky Barnes x reader

Word Count: 1.3k

AN: Here it is. The last one shot of October. Thank you to everyone who has left comments and reblogs you guys are awesome. I'll be taking a short break (like two weeks) and will be back soon with some more stories including a multi-chapter Steve Harrington x reader story and plans for the 100-follower celebration that we earned at the beginning of the month. As always, reblogs and feedback are really appreciated.

divider credit @royallaesthetics

Bucky Barnes didn’t think very much of himself. Which is a real shame, considering he’s one of the most amazing men you’ve ever met. You wouldn’t have moved in together if he was a bad guy like he thought he was. The two of you had moved into a two-story townhouse in Brooklyn three months ago. Bucky really wanted to get close to his roots, especially after everything that happened. Steve had moved into an apartment about a block from you guys but split most of his time between the Avenger’s initiative and being home.

“Jamie, could you help me move the couch to the stoop please?’

‘Why are we taking our indoor furniture outdoors?”

“So that we have something comfy to sit on while we hand out candy.”

“We’re handing out candy? I thought we were just going to put it in a bowl and leave it outside the door.” Bucky was confused, and more than a little apprehensive.

“Jamie. Love of my life, this is what people who have houses do. They sit out on their porches and hand out candy to children in mediocre costumes for two hours while trying not to freeze. It’s a rite of passage.”

“That is the stupidest thing I’ve ever heard.”

“You’re telling me that you didn’t do trick or treat in the olden days?”

“First of all, don’t call them the olden days. Second of all, trick or treating wasn’t really a thing until I was too old to participate, and even then, people had more things to worry about than handing out candy.”

“Why don’t you want to hand out candy, Jamie?”

“Because… it will be cold.”

“You’re literally a human furnace try again.” You lifted one eyebrow at him, trying your best to capture the essence of Roger’s ‘eyebrows of disappointment’ that he had practically trademarked.

“Doll, I just don’t think it's a good idea.”

“Why not Jamie? I won’t make you hand out candy if you don’t want to but I have a feeling that whatever reason you have in your silly little noggin for not wanting to isn’t really a good one.”

“What if they hate me?” He mumbled.

“What if who hates you, baby?”

“The kids. What if the kids are scared of me.”

“James Buchanan Barnes. You are a hero, you fought to bring back literally half of the population of the entire universe, anyone who is scared of you is an idiot.”

“That’s sweet doll, but I don’t want to ruin anyone’s night.”

“The only person’s night who is a risk of being ruined is mine. I don’t know how I’ll survive without my human furnace to keep me warm out there.” You batted your eyelashes at him. “Please, Jamie? Just try, if you hate it you can go back inside but I think you’ll have a lot of fun.”

“Okay.”

“Yeah?” You didn’t try to fight the smile that spread from ear to ear.

‘Yeah, doll. I’ll hand out candy with you.”

Bucky wasn’t sure about any of this. But you had asked so prettily and his therapist (someone you had found for him, not one of the shitty government-appointed ones) had told him that he needed to start pushing his boundaries. He figured that spending the night next to you and watching you be happy was as good of a way to start pushing boundaries as any. He had pulled the couch out into the space that was right in front of your door. He had helped you climb over the back of it with a huge bowl of candy after you realized that the couch had practically trapped you inside. Now the two of you were waiting. The night didn’t officially start until 8:00 so you had about fifteen minutes to go.

“Jamie?”

“Hmm?’

“I forgot my phone.”

“Okay?’

“Jamie?”

“Yes?”

“Could you go get my phone?” He let out a deep sigh and one of those old man grunts as he pushed himself up off the couch and climbed over it. He walked further into the house and you took your chance. “Hey Jamie?”

“Yes, Doll?”

“Since you’re inside… could you make me some hot chocolate?”

“Doll, if you wanted hot chocolate you could’ve just asked in the first place you didn’t need to send me on a quest for your phone.”

“I did actually leave my phone on the counter so it’s not like I lied.”

As Bucky was making your hot chocolate, the beginning few kids started emerging from their houses, parents behind them bundled up to counteract the chilly October night.

You saw a few clowns, some kids show characters that you didn’t really know the name of, and some funny pun costumes that you laughed at. But what really caught your eye was the trio of boys four houses down from yours, making their way down the street.

They couldn’t have been older than eight but their costumes were impeccable. They really were mini versions of your three favorite guys. A mini Captain America complete with a homemade cardboard shield, a mini falcon with swim goggles and a plastic redwing, and last but certainly not least a mini winter soldier whose arm was wrapped in tinfoil.

You had to resist the urge to actually scream, but you did let out a few overjoyed giggles.

“Jamie! James come quick!” You yelled into the house.

“You’re hot chocolate is almost done.” He yelled back.

“Who cares about the hot chocolate this is way more important!”

He started making his way towards the open door, “What is more important than hot choco-” He completely stopped. Frozen in his place looking at the three little boys making their way up your steps. “Holy Shit”

‘Language.” You replied.

Bucky practically launched himself over the back of the couch to meet the boys,

“Mom! Mom look! It’s Sergeant Barnes.” The boy with the tinfoil arm turned with a bright smile on his face. His mom was nearly as frozen as Bucky, most likely not expecting to run into a retired superhero on Halloween night.

With a smack from you, Bucky released himself from his stupor. “Hey little man, what’s your name?”

“George, but everyone calls me Georgie.” He said with the confidence of a kid who had rehearsed.

“Well Georgie, that’s a very nice costume you’ve got there.”

“Thank you, Mr. Barnes, Sir.”

“Call me Bucky, please.”

“Okay, Mr. Bucky, sir.” Both you and Bucky chuckled at that.

“I think a costume as good as that deserves some candy what do you think?” Bucky looked at you.

“Definitely, I think all three of these young heroes deserve their candy.”

You placed a handful into the Captain’s bucket, and the Falcon’s but let Bucky grab the candy for his mini-me. He grabbed two large handfuls and winked at the kid as he placed them inside his orange pumpkin bucket.

“Would you be okay with taking a picture?” Georgie’s mom asked.

“Absolutely!’ Bucky replied and pulled all three young boys in front of him. Kneeling behind them and giving a genuine smile.

Once pictures were done the parents got the boys to say goodbye and move on.

“There are more houses to go to Georgie, besides, I’m sure Mr. Barnes would like to be able to give candy to some other kids.”

“Okay Mom,” Georgie turned back to Bucky, “Thank you, Mr. Bucky, sir. You’re my hero.” He turned back away and skipped down your stairs and onto the next one like he hadn’t just broken your boyfriend.

The rest of the night went pretty similarly, with the occasional Avenger costume and star-struck kid. Bucky posing for pictures and actually enjoying it and you handing out way more candy per child than their parents were okay with.

Bucky’s smile never faded and he seemed to get more and more into it as the night went on.

“Hey Doll?” He asked when the two of you had finally returned your couch back to its rightful place.

“Yeah, Jamie.”

“Thank you.”

“You’re welcome.” You kissed him on the cheek. “You never did bring me my hot chocolate though.”

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gallavichthings · 4 months

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It's time!

How would you all like 21 22 fics on the 21st 22nd of December?

The Gallavich Masquerade Ball 2023 is now open! Grab a glass of champagne or anything else you'd prefer, some hors d'oeuvres, and choose your (first) dance partner for the night!

You can check all the fics in our AO3 collection or on this post, after the cut. A list of all authors with links to their profiles is also included. This post is pinned so you can check it whenever you want.

And here's the link for the form where you can put your guesses. It's only one form for all the fics, so please wait to submit your guesses only after you've read them all.

Here's the updated point system:

Points for readers: Correct guess on first choice: 5 points. Correct guess on second choice: 2 points. Incorrect guess: lose 1 point. (Please note that you only lose 1 point per story, even if you guess incorrectly on both choices.)

Points for writers: If someone correctly guesses your fic (regardless of in the first or second choice): 1 point. If someone wrongfully guesses your fic: 3 points.

Leaving kudos and comments is allowed and appreciated! Writers are also allowed to answer, but it's up to them whether to already do it or wait until everyone's identity is revealed so as not to give anything away accidentally. Oh, and if you want to post something about the fics here on Tumblr but can't tag them, I can serve as buffer for now lol.

Oh, and the surprise? The winners will get some great fanart, courtesy of the talented @doshiart! Isn't that awesome?! 🥂

Cheers!

Keep reading to get a list of all the fics with their summaries and word count, as well as a list of all the authors, with links to their AO3 profiles.

FICS:

AITA? (2,072)

AITA? My new clients (29M and 31M) threatened me and I want to fire them. I know that’s not official therapist speak. TLDR; I want to encourage them to have healthier boundaries and find a new therapist, but until then, what do I do?

Attitude adjustment (4,483)

Post-canon Ian and Mickey figure out some relationship issues. That includes insults, (play-)fighting, more insults, and orgasms. Or: Mickey is having an attitude. Thank god Ian knows exactly what to do.

Black Charcoal meets Fiery Red (1,838)

Ian poses in a life drawing class. A straight forward job, if not for the guy with the blue eyes who can't stop staring at him.

Carnival (3,136)

Ian and Mickey spend the evening at a carnival... "Ian locked the car’s door, and put his arms around Mickey’s shoulders, as they walked towards the carnival. He had brought the leaflet home a few days ago, wiggling the colorful sketch of a carousel and the outdated font under Mickey’s nose with some hopeful glee. Mickey had protested for habit sake, but had caved in pretty easily..."

Five Dates with Brad f*cking Pitt (4,269)

Sometimes things may not be what they seem. Especially when there are assholes around who add fuel to the fire just for the sake of a fucking joke.

Groceries (2,260)

A routine trip to the store turns into a trip down memory lane.

The Guardians (4,879)

3,000 years ago, they had to join forces to defeat an evil sorcerer. Now, the sorcerer was back, and more powerful than ever. Could they defeat him for good?

i'll find a new place to be from (5,947)

They stand in silence for a couple beats, unspoken words lingering above their heads. The cig in his hand has long burned out and Ian resists the temptation to light up another, and another. He feels his mouth open, and close, then open again–but nothing comes out. Time’s up. "See you inside, Red," Mickey finally says before pushing the door open, and Ian remembers how to breathe.

Infused Attraction (3,434)

Mickey has to receive Iron infusions. Ian is a student nurse who is assisting the other nurses with the infusion. Mickey is interested in the redhead. Ian is seemingly interested in him too. Let's see how it goes!

Italy (I Trust And Love You) (3,183)

"Ian closed his eyes and ran a hand through his damp hair. He sighed and straightened his shoulders. Took a deep breath, as if to steal himself for some monumental task, and walked off down the sidewalk. The rain made quick work of drenching him. Ian didn’t seem to notice. In the dirt beneath the tree, drawn in crude blocky letters made with the toe of his boot: I + M." OR A story mostly told through Debbie's eyes during world war two, as she worries for all her brothers, but particularly the one sent home much before the rest.

Jump To Recipe (5,977)

Hiring Mickey Milkovich - Freelance Photographer to shoot the photos for his food blog was the best move Ian’s ever made. Mickey’s a fantastic shot, plus he’s committed to the success of Ian’s blog. (He’s fucking hot, too. But that’s just an added bonus.) And the best thing about him, is that in all the ways he’s professional behind the camera, he’s refreshingly unprofessional to Ian’s face. Which means when he comes around, Ian always knows he’s in for a good laugh, intriguing conversation, and an ego boost - Mickey never shy about how much he loves Ian’s food when they dig in after the shoot. Ian’s made chocolate lava cake today. But when extra time leads to their at-home appointment going way off script - Mickey wanting to update Ian’s headshots, but with a twist - who will the spicier photos leave wanting more, the “housewife army” from his blog’s comment section, or Ian and Mickey?

A Lot (4,245)

What could have happened if Ian had told Mickey that he was worried about going to Mexico with him?

The man in the van (2,141)

“Suppose I should thank you for the compliment then,” Ian teases, smirking a little. The guy snorts. “Don’t mention it, Red. I just call ‘em like I see ‘em.” He proceeds to shamelessly check Ian out again, licking the corner of his mouth as he does. or Ian Gallagher wouldn't mind some excitement in his life. Enter one Mickey Milkovich, ready to oblige.

ole red (5,596)

Mickey is out of prison and walking the straight and narrow with help of his cheering section, P.O. Larry . It’s hard being tough in a pastel polo and dad shorts. Old Army is just a paycheck until he meets the assistant manager, Ian. Finally he figures out Ian was Mandy’s Ian from their teen years. Mickey is attracted to the redhead but is still closeted. Ian responds to Mickey lashing out by revealing he knows Mickey’s secret. Mickey decides to be brave and the reward , huge 😈

The Reason to Exist (4,851)

lieutenantcolonel [18:22]: can you stop stealing my loot lieutenantcolonel [18:22]: this team only needs 1 sharpshooter anyway 😐 mm1234567890 [18:23]: shut up u f** lieutenantcolonel [18:23]: WHAT

Red Hot (4,364)

Ian's workday has been shitty... but his afternoon might just be very different. Thanks to his favorite nephew and a certain mouthy and opinionated stall owner at the winter farmer's market.

A Salute Before We Sink (4,601)

The world will end tomorrow. Ian's only chance at survival is to earn a spot in an underground bunker. One man stands in his way.

Snowballs and Sneaking Out (2,441)

Mickey shows up to the Gallagher House in the middle of the night with a surprise for Ian.

So drunk on you (3,878)

"Then Mickey launches himself into quite a detailed account of the previous evening and there goes Ian’s sanity. He’s learned over the months to hone his selective hearing. That is, he’s not tuning Mickey out completely but he’s trained his brain to gloss over the facts that fall under the TMI category and focus on the highlights. Again, for the sake of his sanity. Because the thing is, he’s so gone on Mickey it’s actually embarrassing. And he’s been gone pretty much from the very beginning." Just another friends-to-lovers story.

Span the Distance, Bridge the Border (4,988)

Ian and Mickey are happy, living on the West Side and adjusting to life as husbands in their new apartment. Things are going well, really well, until one day Mickey’s brothers show up. And God only knows what they could possibly want.

weight of the world (3,360)

Mickey thought he was fucked for life and that he’d never see his mom again. Turns out he was wrong about both of those things.

Wonderful- a Gallavich Christmas Mini-fic (5,030)

In which Mickey learns the reason for the season or How the Mick gained Christmas.

AUTHORS:

Blodeuwedd

Calli_Writes

Captain_Jowl

energie_vie

Gallabitch73

gallawitch

Gembu

GrandSelfMythology

IanGalagher

JuliaKay

lingy910y

MissSnowwhitepink

mmmichyyy

My_Brain_Melted

NotHereNJ

Rayrayor

sam_writes_fics

Suzy_Queue

sweet_perversion

Sweetbee78

whatthebodygraspsnot

whatyouandihave

#Gallavich #Ian x Mickey #Shameless #Shameless US #Gallavich fanfiction #Gallavich Masquerade 2023 #Events #Mod post #now updated

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listenheresweaty · 1 month

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Reminder that Stirringjuice/Ven themself has said that TMC is not fetish content. Kister’s works are NOT an extension of what was described in the allegations document. If you don’t want to consume TMC content anymore, fine (best you don’t— not in a way that gives Kister money anyway), but don’t spread misinformation.

EDIT: after rereading Ven’s callout document and finally being able to access ALL the screenshots he attached, I have decided that I will no longer support him. I will not go back to supporting Alex Kister yet, but I cannot support a blatant ableist transphobe either. link to annotation doc: (not mine) https://docs.google.com/document/d/e/2PACX-1vReErDatnpQ_h3W-WlqrmzmPN26-UyDwLVwBKmHV09WhVZtdZQM44HRxvoV0ZTz8Ho-NaBVKYxjNuha/pub

Things I will be addressing:

Why I do not support Ven (separate from other victims)

Stuff that Alex Kister DID do wrong, even if the allegations were exaggerated/faked/done out of malice

The allegations and victims themselves.

WHY I DONT SUPPORT VEN

First of all, this ⬇️ (scroll down its below the blue highlighted ss. Formatting issues sorry.). This is a ss of Ven’s (now deleted, now archived post) response to how many people are calling him transphobic for his transmisogynistic comments in his document, and how he had basically outed Alex. Instead of saying something like “it wasn’t transphobic — I had to out Alex— it was necessary for the victims/proof/whatever”, Ven just says that if Alex didn’t want to be outed or subjected to transphobia, he shouldn’t have been a “groomer” (Ven later says that he had misused the word “groomer”. Everyone that Alex had interacted with in a sexual or romantic manner had been an adult, and had fully explicitly VERBALLY consented.)

However. Even if your opponent is a bad person, you do NOT have the right to be transphobic. EVER. criticize them on whatever they’ve done wrong, hold them accountable in a balanced and civilized manner— etc. Being protected from bigotry/ not getting misgendered, privacy, legal counsel— these are all examples of RIGHTS.

When you start denying something based on whether someone deserves it or not, that “something” has become a privilege. By stating that his transphobia was excused because Alex is a supposedly bad person, Ven has stated that not being subjected to transphobia is a privilege. here’s the link: (takes forever to load the keep reading portion but it works for me) https://web.archive.org/web/20240317125855/https://www.tumblr.com/stirringjuicee/745117180204548096/alex-kister-and-actively-using-being-trans-to-lure

Screenshot of the post below, along with something from the callout doc (annotated by a tumblr user. The non-highlighted color text is the annotated bit.

—— ss from ven response (click. It IS An image it just looks like text)

—- now onto some more details.

Ven, or StirringJuice, made the first allegations document against Alex Kister. He had stated himself that he does not consider himself a victim, just a friend of the victims who wanted to spread the word. Ven starts the document off by describing his past relationship with Alex Kister. He also includes screenshots of text messages from Alex— which often contradict or have no relation with what he’s saying. This is why it’s important to look at the screenshots, guys! Most of the toxicity in Ven’s relationship with Alex stemmed from Ven’s refusal to honestly his boundaries or feelings. He told Alex that he was comfortable with the sexual comments, he told Alex that he was comfortable being just Friends with Benefits, and he told Alex that they were welcome to vent to him any time <- all of this is corroborated by the text screenshots that Ven himself posted.

In Ven’s text messages, we can see him suggesting that Alex gets a therapist. Great! Nothing wrong there. And then you actually look at the ss:

(Ven is the blue. These ss are linked in the callout document.)

First of all. You cannot force ANYONE to get mental help, regardless of whether you think it’s for their own well-being. If their behavior is harming you, leave. But even the worst people on earth deserve autonomy for these kinds of things. Ven literally states that he had FORCED Alex to get a therapist, and you can see him admit it in the messages above as well.

after these ss links (labeled part 9 in the doc), Ven hits us with this absolute banger:

“[Alex] then decided to go off his meds.”

Someone had already said this, but: YOU HAVE NO RIGHT TO SAY THAT TO OR ABOUT A MENTALLY ILL PERSON. EVER. REGARDLESS OF WHO YOU ARE, OR WHO THEY ARE. it’s an insult to every mental health community.

^ also, Alex gives a pretty good reason for going off his medication. Not that they needed to.

^highlighted text is Ven’s callout post. Purple text is a fellow tumblr user’s annotations. They have a whole post with these annotations. I’ll credit them when I’m done writing out my post. [clarification: the annotator uses “she/her” pronouns for Alex, Ven uses he/him. I use they/them because Alex was never publicly OUT as she/her before they were outed, so I’m not sure what to do]

Also: please go on the callout doc and see the “pt. 11” screenshots yourself. There’s a lot of them and I don’t want to add them here, but please go see them.

^Ven hears that Alex wants to start a new chapter with them (yknow, like redeem the toxic relationship they’ve had) and immediately assumes it’s in the romantic sense.

^Alex admits that they are not ready for a committed relationship, a good first step for smoothing over any toxicity.

^nothing else to add. Annotator did great.

^ text ss as listed under the “pt. 14” link

These are 3 out of 10 ss under the Pt. 15 link. Look at the text indicated to with the red arrow (drawn by me). Ven literally tells Alex that they “don’t understand anything ever.” They also tell Alex in a later ss (plz find it yourselves because I’m not posting all 10 photos) that they “don’t understand [their] own emotions.”

Maybe Alex was making an unhealthy decision by continuing to reach out to someone they clearly had an unhealthy relationship with. But these responses are borderline abusive, especially when aimed at someone who suffers from paranoia.

A huge chunk of the entire callout doc is Ven venting about his relationship with Alex. This relationship is not abusive, it is toxic on both sides. The fact that Ven put this much focus on these barely relevant details— even when the topic was the victims, not Ven himself— suggests that he did this out of petty vindictiveness. If the allegations are true, the victims deserved a BETTER PERSON and a BETTER FRIEND to share their story. Not someone who did it purely because it was en excuse to get revenge. If it wasn’t revenge, why add all these details?? (funny thing— the whole doc. Would be more believable if Ven hadn’t added all this stuff. He destroyed his credibility before even getting to the allegations).

the one below has more transphobia and general assholery than ableism.

^apparently once you are out of the closet, you are not allowed to go back or feel ashamed. Else you are lying and manipulative. Thanks, Ven.

I am done posting screenshots from the annotation document. Please, PLEASE read it in full. I will tag it in the comments. There are so so so many good points.

STUFF THAT ALEX HAS DEFINITELY DONE WRONG, REGARDLESS OF WHETHER THE ALLEGATIONS ARE TRUE OR FALSE:

(Orange text is annotator, black is original doc).

Venting to/ Relying on a minor fan for mental health support (I think it was Mitchie). That’s not good.

making allusions to suicide during their relationship with Ven. Joke or not, that’s unhealthy.

ALLEGATIONS/VICTIMS:

wont say much here because I’m getting tired. some people on Reddit have been pointing out that some discord ss (not the ones I’ve shown you, those were imessage ss) look faked because there is use of military time, which is not an option on discord apparently. Other screenshots seem to use different fonts as well, further indicating forged evidence. I have fact-checked none of this and can’t verify it (not that you should be relying on my word alone, anyway).

I do not support Mitchie, since they’ve been telling people to self-harm and/or commit suicide when they point out flaws in the callout doc. I don’t care what you’ve been through. There is no excuse for that.

As for the other victims.. I find their statements fishy. However, I will not disbelieve them until more has been cleared up.

#mandela catalogue #the mandela catalogue #tmc #alex kister #alex Kister situation #fuck alex kister #tmc cesar #tmc mark #tmc gabriel #tmc au #tmc adam #tmc fanart #the mandela catalog fanart #thatcher davis #cesar torres #mandela catalouge fanart #adam murray #alex kister callout #alex kister drama #Not a big fan of how gender identity struggles are tied so closely with the actual grooming. Because. They are completely separate.#Kister’s gender identity struggles have nothing to do with their choices and I’m not a fan of how it’s been handled (based on what I’ve see #I use they them for kister here because they weren’t technically OUT as transfem #So idk if they’d be okay with people using she/her #If I were outed I wouldn’t want people to use pronouns that only a select few were meant to know. But maybe that’s just me.#No hate for those using she/her for Alex.#If pronouns are cleared up I will fix this

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krypticcafe · 1 year

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Hello! This is my first time asking someone but can you do 141 men reacting to us being hypersexual? I dont see any of those ones😅

Task Force 141 men w/a hypersexual partner

rating: mature

character(s): GN!Reader, Kyle "Gaz" Garrick, John Price, John "Soap" McTavish, Simon "Ghost" Riley, Gary "Roach" Sanderson, Hound

warning(s): language, emotions(?), sexual themes, possible inaccuracies, mentions of trauma

a/n: An interesting request! I'll try my best to be accurate, but I can't guarantee it'll be perfect as someone who does not go through hypersexuality and a lot of resources online tend to only go over symptoms and general medical help but not a lot on how it affects relationships. So please please PLEASE correct me if needed, and I'll make the necessary changes!!

Gaz

I think out of all the guys, he'd be the only one who's heard of it, though he isn't all that educated about it.

With how Gaz is, you're actually quite comfortable discussing it early on in your relationship, bringing it up one day while you two are just talking about things.

He listens and nods along, occasionally commenting here and there, but he mostly listens. When you mention how it can be caused by trauma, you appreciate that he asks but tells you you don't have to if you're uncomfortable. He's just super understanding.

Also super low-key about it.

For example, if you tell him, signal, or if he can tell you're kinda going through it, he'll come up with a quick excuse to pull you aside and talk it out or do something else.

He already knows a bunch of exercises to keep your mind from reeling, small games to keep you grounded, and supervises you for a bit.

If you choose to, Gaz will absolutely support you if you pursue therapy! He'll especially praise you for any progress you make.

All in all, 10/10 boyfriend.

Price

It'll definitely take a while for him to wrap his head around the concept, but as long as you just communicate, things should be fine.

If and when you guys have sex, he's always checking in here and there, making sure you're good but not overdoing it so that it becomes overbearing.

Outside of that, if you're having trouble coping and physical touch helps, he's the best man for it.

His arms will wrap around you snugly, and just listening to his heartbeat alone can help soothe you. Sometimes, he'll hum to you or help massage your back. You find his voice to be helpful with how firm and direct it is, so he'll often converse with you to get your mind off things.

Definitely will give you resources if you ask. Need a therapist? He's got a reliable list. Need tools like sex toys? No shame, he'll get what you need. Ran out of medication? Just picked some up.

Keep in mind he can't always tell if you're having issues since he's quite busy when he's not alone with you, so you two developed a small signal to help each other out if needed.

Don't forget to reassure him too because he worries he's doing something wrong a lot of the time, so again, just communicate with him!

Soap

He's a little confused, but he's got the spirit.

It does take you a while to work up the courage not because you're worried about the shame of telling him, but more about if he'll understand.

When he first hears it, he kinda confuses it for higher libido but you quickly correct him.

"Ah, so it's not just impulsive but intrusive?"

From there, oh he's very, very sweet about it.

One of his best traits is how distracting he is so you can bet your ass he will find a way to keep your mind off things and humor you. He asks a lot of questions, but that's just his way of expressing his concern and care! Again, he's a super observant boy.

He'll always give you distance if that's what you need, but if you need some physical or verbal help, he's there in a heartbeat. If you guys are intimate, he'll take it slow and be loving as possible. He's happy to provide.

Oh, but if he hears you talking badly about yourself, he's quick to shut it down because hearing you call yourself 'dirty' or feeling 'used' has him very distressed.

"But I'm-"

"But nothing. You listen to me, okay? I would never think of you like that and I want you to know that to me, you're more than that, you're more than-" He stumbles over his words, "-jesus, you're everything and I don't want you thinking that you'll ever be less than that to me, alright?"

It's a hard pill to swallow, but his words are nothing but the truth, just as genuine as he is. After that, you start taking more of his words to heart.

Ghost

It's hard to tell what Simon's thinking a lot of the time, but rest assured, it's anything but judgment.

He thanks you for telling him and acknowledging how difficult it is. After all, you've done the same for him.

He's not gonna treat you like a porcelain doll, but that doesn't mean he's not gonna be cautious if guys have sex, he gets how vulnerable it can feel, being exposed, so it's something the two of you work through together.

He's also prone to getting upset if he hears you speaking badly about yourself, and admittedly, he's kind of brash and blunt at first when trying to confront you about it but over time, he learns to better express his concern.

With time, he'll steadily find more ways to keep your mind off of it. So far, he finds he's best at it via spending time with you like cuddling, or when he invites you to do different physical activities like exercising, taking walks, or sparring with him.

If you need help focusing or you take medication or therapy, expect him to nag about it!

"Did you go to the-"

"Yes, love, don't worry, I have. Thank you for asking."

You know he's looking out for you, and you couldn't be any more grateful.

Roach

Very much like Gaz, he's quick to understand.

"The girls who get it, get it" type of energy

He'll ask questions, but if he sees you getting skittish or awkward about it, he'll change the subject.

When he's nonverbal, he knows it'll be difficult to help you, especially if you're struggling to focus on his signs.

So what he does is he'll take your hand and trace a question mark in your hand, asking what's wrong and having you explain. If you need to calm down, he'll trace little shapes and hearts in your palms, intertwine his fingers with you, and help guide your breathing before asking questions.

If you struggle with finding other ways to be intimate or expressing yourself in your relationship, he'll show you what he likes, love languages of his, and such.

During a long mission, he had found you particularly frustrated. Rather than shaming you, he offered to help you get tidied up and take you out on a date.

The two of you went trinket shopping at the local town, though he was mostly buying you whatever you showed interest in, which quickly grew overwhelming.

But hey, it worked to brighten your mood, so it's a win in his book.

Hound

Oh he's so understanding. Hound isn't hypersexual themselves, but they understand the struggles of having highly impulsive and intrusive thoughts and actions, and more than understand the pain and shame that stems.

He expresses that he's proud of you for confiding in him something so personal and being comfortable enough to tell him

From there, he's very attentive to your needs and makes sure you're never overdoing it when indulging in NSFW.

If you two have sex, then it probably starts as a slow process to get comfortable, since Hound has their own sexual anxieties. But they're more than willing to take the reigns, establishing boundaries and patiently communicating with you even if it's difficult. In the end, it's a very vulnerable and intimate experience for the both of you.

In the case things have to stop, he'll clean things up, reassure and praise you, while finding something else for you two to do, like a movie night or cuddling.

Or if you're needy but they're not in the mood, Hound will help you redirect that energy somewhere else and makes sure you don't feel ashamed or insecure.

Personally, their favorite way of helping you is asking you about your interests or hyperfixes because they just love listening to you talk so passionately and just learning more about you so they can spoil you for future reference.

But sometimes you just need him to completely envelop you in his arms and give you something else to feel instead of that frustration, something to feel loved.

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insolentgod · 6 months

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⚠️Attention:⚠️ very long post. It talks a little about: state of lack, take your desire off the pedestal, time it takes for a manifestation, get distracted about your manifestation , self-concept, and Cassies

one more night high and having crazy epiphanies about manifestations. and another day using a translator to translate my text to post here, because I haven't claimed to be fluent in English yet 😛 So, as I always warn, if there are possible grammatical errors, it's for this reason.

I'm here to bring you an analogy I created while discussing with a friend haha. (Yes, this time there's nothing about lana del rey!)

you know those people who humiliate themselves for others? Who do everything for someone specific to love them, try to talk to them even if it's unhealthy, or beg them to stay in their lives. (yes, it's quite depressing and sad)

i haven't been like that much in life, usually when someone didn't care about me, i cared even less about them. but I won't lie, there have been situations where I may have humiliated myself a little, but it's human.

anyway, going straight to my analogy, let's imagine that you struggling to manifest something is a friend "Cassie," and the manifestation will be her ex-boyfriend, okay? (i swear it will make sense in the end)

what I write outside the parentheses is Cassie's situation, and what's inside the parentheses is possibly the situation you're going through on your manifestation journey.

okay, you have this friend Cassie who keeps saying that her ex-boyfriend doesn't care about her, doesn't respond to messages, and shows no signs, and she's going crazy and desperate about it (just like you when you see no progress in your manifestation). so she does EVERYTHING to get him back (just like you when you try multiple methods non-stop and feel needy). and as Cassie's friend, you think, "poor cassie, she doesn't deserve to suffer like this" (and she really doesn't deserve it, just as you don't deserve to suffer for your manifestations). there are also moments when she sends a message for you saying, "I'll forget him this time, I promise." but after two days, she's there messaging him again (just like you affirm on the first day all motivated and trying to convince yourself that this time your manifestation will come true, but after a few days, you see no progress and start panicking), and then she gets very sad because she thinks they will never get back together and she will never be happy with him again (just like you think you can't manifest anything, that the universe hates you, that you will never get what you want, that the loa doesn't work). But meanwhile, there are other people out there getting back with their exes and you admire them, wondering what it would be like if it were you... (just like when you look at other people's success stories and think "why can't I do it?") spoiler: You can do it too, honey. If everyone else can do it, so can you. Wake up.

If I were Cassie's friend, I would tell her to STOP acting like that and start valuing herself and just distract herself. because let's be honest, men ALWAYS come back, right? 🤣 and many people may disagree with me on this and think that if she doesn't chase after the guy, he won't come either. but that's how it works for me, even before I started using the law. every time I started valuing myself and stopped begging for others' love, the person came to me. so let's agree with my thinking on this, okay?

and one more point that I think is worth mentioning is that if Cassie really doesn't want to do this alone, maybe a manifestation coach would be a good idea (if it were a real situation, I would suggest her to seek a therapist). There are nuances about "manifestation coaches," I honestly don't use them and I recommend working on your self-concept. but it's an option if you want, but please do thorough research and find a trustworthy one.

returning, what can you do to not be another Cassie? I'm telling you to stop doing whatever you're doing to try to achieve your desire? no. just get out of the state of neediness and desperation, like a Cassie. you don't need that, my love. you don't need to worry, "Is my manifestation coming?" You don't need to use a thousand methods because you don't think it's enough. whatever you believe will bring your desires, will indeed bring your desire. If you believe that jumping three times, building a castle, and kicking an elderly person will give you what you want, guess what? If you do all that, then you will get what you desire. and if you believe that affirming once in your life will get you a beachfront mansion, guess what? you will achieve that.

so, to not be a Cassie:

1 - trust what you're saying, please trust yourself. nnow that ONLY WHAT YOU THINK is the truth, and it will be. (my last long post talks about this exactly, I highly recommend it, okay).

2 - take your desire off the pedestal. your desire may be your biggest dream in life, I don't care. take it off the pedestal. the powerful person who can have anything they want is YOU, not your desire. tou are a thousand times greater than your desire. you don't chase after your desire, your desire chases after you. you know when manifestation coaches tell you to start manifesting just a blue butterfly or a candy? well, it's because for you, that's not difficult. It's something you find easy to manifest and know it's totally possible to have. but you can literally manifest a Porsche at the same speed as manifesting an ice cream, okay? take your desire off the pedestal; you are fully capable of having it.

3 - get out of the state of lack. In the law of assumption, some people talk a lot about states and some manifest just by being in the state of the wish fulfilled and ready, they succeed. but the state of lack is literally when you feel the lack, the absence of your desire. you don't feel like you have it or you don't feel worthy of it, so you probably fall into a spiral of despair with millions of thoughts like "what will I do if I don't achieve it?" "I don't see any progress" "time is passing and I don't have my results". Anyway,

- But what do I do to heal my state of lack?

just don't be in it 💐💐💐 yes, it's easy, okay. please believe that it's easy and it will be. I know it's very easy to affirm when you're motivated, especially after reading a success story. but motivation doesn't last forever and I don't think it's healthy for you to keep restoring your motivation by reading success stories all the time. there's nothing wrong with it, but you don't need success stories to heal. every time you feel like you're entering the state of lack, start trusting yourself. when it happens to me, I start affirming "none of this, I have my desires" "I don't care about what my 3D shows me" "I have what I want", I also imagine myself with my desire as if I really have it now. I'll admit, there are times when I start affirming this to avoid entering the state of lack and at first it feels like I'm feeling wrong, the feeling of hopelessness even. but regardless of how I feel, I keep visualizing and eventually start feeling strong and motivated again. in those moments, you have to be strong and disciplined with yourself, okay? you can do it.

4 - try not to care about time or the 3D reality. i know it's difficult, but please live in your imagination and believe that if you have it in your imagination, you have it now. about time, it depends, okay? Some people manifest in seconds because they believe they can, while others manifest in weeks because they think it takes weeks. if you're the second type of person, you can definitely manifest in seconds if you allow yourself to do so. self-concept affirmations help a lot in this aspect. Just don't worry about time in the 3D reality. If you know that in your mind you have your desire NOW, then you have it now. once you're fully living in your imagination, it will come in the 3D reality. I know it's difficult, but just trust yourself and your mind. I promise that if you live 100% in your mind, your desire can come very quickly.

5 - distract yourself! don't spend the whole day thinking about your desire. usually, the desire comes when you accept that you have it and continue living your life. I know it's complicated, especially when it's something you want, but distract yourself to avoid excessive and negative thoughts about your manifestations. and please get off tumblr for a while

6 - improve your self-concept, please. Just do that, and your manifestation journey will be much easier.

I think that's it for today. I talked a lot as always 😛😛

I usually don't respond to people asking for help here on my blog (mainly because I don't receive any requests) but if you're having problems, you can send me a message, and I'll respond ❤‍🩹 I just want to help someone like loa bloggers helped me when I needed it. good night everyone, and stay hydrated.

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