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#mostly we don't want to hurt each other
p4nishers · 6 months
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there's something i need to say and yall can boo me for it but deep in my heart i'll always know i'm correct: crowley already forgave aziraphale. like already would take him back at one flutter of his eyelashes. that's all.
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purplelea · 6 months
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Twewy native Pre week 2 neku and kh1 Riku would be the most toxic friend group ever
I had to specify neku as twewy native because in dream drop josh straight up said they all died and that's why they got sent to traverse town. But given his lines it's clear he's at least past peak asshole neku.
Thoughts?
OH YEAH VERY TRUE. but actually I don't even think they'd be friends, if that makes sense. Riku needs someone kind who looks up to him (like Sora and Kairi), and Neku pre-twewy... isn't that. Neku on the other hands needs people he can relate to and who share his worldviews (ex: how he got along with Joshua in week 2 and was able to have many interesting discussions with him despite, yknow, thinking Joshua murdered him). So it wouldn't actually work if there was only the two of them: Riku doesn't share Neku's values of shutting himself from people because he's scared of getting hurt & hurting them. And Neku only looks up to CAT.
#léa replies#it's interesting to think about tho. if somehow they were hanging out... it would honestly not be very good. for anyone.#now you got me thinking about how Riku's low self-esteem can be a parallel to Beat and Shiki but each have a different way to deal with it#Riku's low self-esteem becomes jealousy when he sees someone else hang out with Sora (he puts the blame on others)#a reaction that appears to be similar to Beat who's angry at for example kariya when Rhyme dies#but it's actually just a facade. and he's mostly angry at himself for his incompetence#and Shiki on the other hand gets jealous of Eri but turns that against herself to the point that she tries to erase her own self#so she can reach Eri's supposed perfection#so we have a broad range of reactions to low sefl-esteem#and while Riku's is obviously the most harmful for others (increased by the fact that Maleficient and Ansem SOD took advantage of it)#i don't want to call him toxic for that. he's just a lost kid who doesn't know how to handle change. just like Kairi is.#and that's why they drift apart with Sora trying to chase both of them because he's the only one who is able to handle change.#his issues lie elsewhere.#anyway i could swear i was going somewhere with this but i had dinner in between so i forgor...#maybe something about how yeah Neku was toxic pre-twewy but i don't think Riku was before it all went downhill in kh1#it's really Maleficient and Ansem's manipulation who made him go the extra mile and hurt others when he only wanted to save Kairi#and yeah i guess making the words fall and trying to kill Sora is pretty toxic at this point lmao#thanks for the ask!#twewy spoilers#twewy#kingdom hearts
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greencarnation · 1 year
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he isn't over his ex!!!!!! i am a clown!!!!!! fuck everything!!!!!
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senadimell · 2 years
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ooooohhh dracula daily has made me ship something.
#it's been a hot minute since that happened#(it's jonathan and mina)#idk i always fail to find the words to describe how i relate to romance#but it's usually something about commitment that usually gets me#and i tend to prefer unlabeled relationships where the people are completely committed to each other#but it's not clearly romantic or platonic#because that's usually necessary to avoid The Tropes#but have to say. mina's commitment to jonathan and his to her is stirring#and i'm also probably an equal fan of mina and lucy's relationship tbh#but we have had the advantage of seeing Jonathan's mind and so the hurt/comfort aspect is stronger with jonathan#i just want to protect him okay?#and i have vague spoilery awareness that it's going to hurt to get too attached to lucy#not tagging this (sorry) because people actually read the dracula daily tags and a single post there can easily net 100s of stranger-views#(kinda weird and cool actually; it's like what DDD used to do and which unfortunately caused conflict in the snape fandom)#which. not saying that's a bygone thing to do BUT if you have a pretty curated dash then it seems you tend to go into tags only for newstuff#and i have mostly dropped out of tags on the daily because i don't have a super active fandom these days#(apart from the longrunning ones and i follow people who post about that to fill those interest spaces)#though i should probably drop into the hercule poirot tags sometime because i've very much been enjoying the 1990s series#with caveats obviously because it's the 90s adapting early-mid 20th century and certain prejudices go unquestioned#(casual anti-asian racism is not questioned so far. at all. very uncomfortable.))#but yeah. tags. and shippery. what a time. feel free to message or ask me because i would like to chat!
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the only unrealistic thing about the mortal instruments is how alec and magnus are the only queer people in the nyc gang
#i have nothing against canon ships but i also just realised that simon dating isabelle and maia at the same time is reminiscent#of Gregory Fucking Hirsch from hbo succession and the comfrey comtessa situation#i have many opinions about all this but i don't even know where to start#like. we didn't see internalised homophones with alec he was mostly angry at the society and his father - which. fair enough dude#but jace? would absolutely have layers upon layers of internalised homophobia and shit if he was queer#dude this guy was raised by valentine! remembet the falon incident? the haha i pretended to get murked to give my ten year old son -#who isn't actually my son because i kidnapped him by the way - trauma for days?#he made him believe that jace loved clary with 'the wrong kind of love' when he tricked him into thinking the were siblings#and their blood relation was the only reason she could ever love him the only reason she felt drawn to him but they didn't know that#so instead of strong familiar love they went for romantic love and such#on the other note - simon is a vampire and that's kinda homoerotic ngl#clary clearly had internalised misogyny going when she met izzy and one of the examples i remember is when they sat next to each other in#the first book in the diner and she was like 'ugh who would even want to smell like vanilla? like a dessert? so all the boys would want to#eat her? what a whore' and i just think this is really funny and honestly yeah i think this scene alone could be very sapphic#as in 'i hated you because i haven't realised i was attracted to you' way and yeah maybe that's toxic#but clary and isabelle definitely show some girlfriendism in the books and they would do that even more if i was in charge of writing them#hope this makes any sense whatsoever#i would write more but it's getting late i might've sprained my ankle or something because it hurts as shit and im tired#fuck autocorrect for changing homophobia to homophones this is so funny as in way to funny to me
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headspace-hotel · 8 months
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Tree stuff
Most trees should outlive you. If a landscaper tells you the lifespan of a tree is 10 years, they don't know what they're talking about.
Trees are free. Carefully comb over your yard for baby trees, especially in mid-spring!
Similarly, If you live near a gravel driveway or gravel parking lot, you can find baby tree sprouts that can be easily transplanted by gently removing the gravel bits from around the roots, wrapping the roots in wet paper towel, and transplanting to a large pot.
Do not pile up mulch around the base of a tree. You can mulch under the tree, but it should be a mostly flat layer, not a raised mound, and keep the mulch a few inches away from touching the trunk. Roots need some access to air or the tree will grow roots upward through the mulch, and the roots will slowly wrap around the trunk and strangle the tree to death. It's called root girdling and it is very sad.
Trees need friends!!! If possible, plant two or three trees instead of just one. Trees share nutrients through the mycorrhizal network and they protect each other from storm damage.
Always get a tree that is native to your area and suited to your local environment.
Growing an oak from an acorn is easy. Go to an area where there are oaks in the fall, and collect the acorns that have turned brown and whose hats have popped off. Get large pots at least 8 inches depth, and lay the acorns on their sides on top of the potting soil, then cover them with a layer of damp fallen leaves, and leave them outside all winter long. Just be sure to cover them with some wire mesh or something to protect them from squirrels
Please keep oaks and other large trees about 20 feet from any structure because they will grow huge. Websites will tell you to keep trees X distance away from "structures or other trees" but other trees can go as little as 6-10 feet apart whereas structures need to be like 15 feet away minimum, generally speaking
Prune the tree while it's dormant, NOT in the middle of summer!
If you happen to be from the Eastern United States, please consider getting an oak! They are keystone species and host plants for literally hundreds of insects. We have too many maples here too, so maybe consider a Sweetgum or Black Gum for pretty fall colors?
If you have a tree that's tied to a stake to keep it upright, get rid of that thing as soon as you can, particularly if there's zip ties holding it to the tree, because those can grow into the bark and kill the tree...
If your tree is dead, please consider cutting off the branches and leaving at least 6-10 feet or so of trunk standing. Dead tree snags like this are important nesting places for many birds and you might see a woodpecker
If you live in North America, whatever you do, do NOT get anything marketed as an "ornamental flowering pear tree." They're typically Pyrus calleryana, and they're virulently invasive
Bugs eating a few holes in the leaves of your tree? Good for them! (They aren't hurting the tree unless they're like, fully skeletonizing it, and they're just the caterpillars of butterflies and moths. Want Luna moths or Tiger Swallowtail butterflies? Let the caterpillars eat their dinner mmkay.)
Don't throw away the fallen leaves! Butterflies, moths, stick bugs, lightning bugs, ladybugs, and many other insects hibernate the winter in the fallen leaves. Use them as mulch for flower beds, compost them, or just leave them alone! You'll probably want to stop mowing after the leaves fall if you'd like to see bugs.
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honeybubblebeeeeee · 2 months
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Arranged marriage AU!Toji x Reader
Summary: Your son with toji, Megumi, said his first words today
CW: toji is cold and distant mostly hurt and no comfort mild fluff i guess??
Idk this was a random thought and now its here
REQUESTS OPEN!
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Marriages were not always done out of love. Some were done out of necessity or desperation. Much like the one you were currently in. It was necessity of clans and land squabbles and power hungry old men that didn't care for the feelings of those around them - only getting what they want.
And in your case they got what they wanted. Did you get anything you wanted? Well kinda.
Being in an arranged marriage to Toji wasn't the worst thing to happen to you. It could be worse but it could also be much, much better.
You had known each other since you were children as it was planned from a young age that you two were to be married. You hadn't minded. Toji was attractive and you had a mini crush on him for the longest time but he always detested you. You knew of the numerous women he had slept with before your marriage, having run into them multiple times. It felt like he was trying to push you away, to force you to beg for an out but you both knew that wasn't happening.
You had only been married for a short time now almost two years. It had been mostly uneventful in the name of new marriages aside from - ya know - the whole baby you had. Toji and you were told to waste no time in trying to produce an heir and really that was the only Toji showed you any affection. Outside of those moments he was cold and inattentive. Those moments were only out of the necessity to reproduce anyway. He didn't interact with your son Megumi very much either.
You cleaned up the kitchen after dinner in your large but yet lonely house. Toji was still out. Work or something else you weren't sure. Megumi babbled and bounced as he watched you move around the kitchen from his highchair, music played in the background. You smiled at him as he babbled. "Hi 'Gumi." You waved at him smiling wide. He laughed giddly at your voice, his mop of black hair bouncing with his movements.
He was the happiest and the cutest baby you had ever seen. You were more than proud of yourself. It was only mildly hurtful that Megumi was identical to Toji. His dark hair, his facial structure screamed Toji. The only thing he had gotten from you was your eyes. They reflected back at you as you approached the bouncing baby putting him on your hip.
You danced along to he music, bouncing him around as he laughed and babbled.
You put him down on the floor as you turned off the music. He continued babbling to himself as he crawled around. "Dadadadadada"
You turned almost comically slow to look down at your son. "What?!" Your smile was wide and your face was full of surprise.
Megumi babbled on again almost coherently. "dadadadadada"
You were so in shock you could barely move. Picking him up and swiftly sitting him on the counter. "Gumi did you say dada?! Say it again! Say dada."
Megumi laughed and babbled at you. You repeated the word multiple times, he watched intently his mouth moving as if trying to copy you. More coherent this time. "Dada"
You smiled wide and clapped at him. "Good job Megumi!! Oh my we have to tell Dada don't we? Such a smart boy."
Within the same moment Toji burst through the front door. You looked up at him as he passed by the kitchen, not even taking off his shoes before going to stomp up the stairs. "Toji! Oh my gosh come here Megumi just-"
"Leave me alone." He marched up the stairs. You heard his footsteps through the house and his bedroom door slammed. You looked down at Megumi as his small hands held onto your shirt and he looked up at you with big eyes. "Dada." You smiled softly at him. "Yeah baby... dada." Looking towards the stairs as if seeing him stomp up to them all over again.
Hours went by and he never came back down. You texted him that his dinner was in the fridge, that you wanted to show him something, that you were here for him if he needed anything, that you were sorry he had a bad day and he never answered or even read a single message.
Since figuring out he could say 'dada' Megumi had not stopped repeating it. You knew it wasn't to annoy you but you couldn't help feel a pang of hurt every time he said it. Toji was rarely around. Why couldn't his first word be mama, the one who is always around?
It was Megumi's bed time but you really thought Toji hearing Megumi would lighten up his day a little. You sighed to yourself as you built lego towers with Megumi upstairs in his playroom. Here you were, still trying to be the wife but he really was making you into a stranger.
You bathed and dressed Megumi in his pjs and held him close as he looked up at you. "Should we go see if dada is busy Megumi?" His eyes widened at the word and continued his babbling mantra of it. You walked through the east half of the house where your room and Megumi's plus your own office, some extra rooms and Megumi's playroom were. Toji's side was the west wing. If you were actually husband and wife you would share the north wing, where the extravagant bedroom - apartment practically - sat bare and collected dust. You looked to the double doors at the end of the north hall with disappointment before making you way to the west end and stepping up to Toji's door.
You hesitated before knocking softly. Waiting a moment before looking down at Megumi and shrugging. "I don't know if he's awake bud." You thought for a moment before slowly pushing the door open and peering inside. The light were on so you entered even though you knew you shouldn't. Toji never let you in his room. You'd only be in here a handful of times and all those times were unpleasant.
You walked through the sitting area into the bedroom until you noticed the bathroom door shut. You shook your head, looking to Megumi, pushing his hair out of his eyes. "I think we will show dada tomorrow okay?" Megumi was unusually quiet, maybe being able to feel the tension that grew in your body. Turning swiftly you made for the door you came through but before you made it out of the bedroom the bathroom door opened.
"What are you doing in here?" Toji's voice was loud and cold. You turned to look at him. Water dripped from his wet hair, his body damp with steam. A towel hung loosely around his waist. "Did I say you could come in my room?" His eyes bore holes into you. The heat that rushed into your face gave away your fear.
You looked down to the son you both created, trying to look anywhere but at the way his muscled form rippled infront of you. It was easier to pretend you didn't find him attractive or care about him or have feelings for him when he wasn't right infront of you.
"Oh... sorry... I just..."
He eyed you, how you stayed focus on Megumi. The small boy holding onto your free hand. "What happened? Is Megumi ok?" His expression changed as he approached the two of you. His voice still cold and annoyed but a hint of concern hid underneath it all.
Your head snapped to him. Eyeing him closely for a reaction. "Nothing I just... he said his first word today. I thought it might cheer you up to hear it if I can get him to say it again."
His features softened ever so slightly. "His first word?" Toji tilted his head in thought. "What was it?" You couldn't help but notice the small amount of excitement in his voice.
Megumi bounced in your arms at Toji's voice, babbling along as if trying to figure out how to say it all over again. I smiled at Toji and then back down at Megumi. I pointed at Toji. "Who's that Gumi? Hmm? Say dada! Say it again baby show dada."
Megumi babbled and pointed towards Toji for a few moments before sounding out dada once again.
Toji's face immediately brightened. "What?! Dada??" He chuckled deeply, one that sounded genuine and it shook something in you. "He actually said it. Good boy Megumi." Toji stepped up to you and the baby as he spoke. Brushing Megumi's heap of hair back.
You kissed to side of Megumi's head as he bounced on your hip. "He hasn't even said mama yet." You chuckled softly but the tinge of hurt was in your voice. "Anyway that was all I wanted to tell you. Sorry for coming in your room, I know I'm not supposed to."
He shook his head. "it's okay." He assured as he watched Megumi babble and squirm in your grip. He was overtired for sure. Toji seemed to be a different person than the one you had come accustomed. His permanent scowl was gone and he looked almost happy. "Can I hold him?"
His question shocked you. Eyes widening but you handed him over.
Toji softly cradled him, rocking him back and forth as he whispered to him. Megumi didn't cry or fuss, even his overtired babbling stopped. Slowly his eyes got heavy and closed. You watched intently as Toji interacted with your son. If it could be like this all the time.
"He really does have my hair. He's got your eyes too." Toji commented quietly while admiring his son. His eyes flicked up to yours for a moment.
I smiled at him. "Yeah... he does..."
Toji chuckled softly. "He really does look like me. It's kinda scary."
You laughed a little more sincerely than you intended. "He does, has your personality too."
Toji chuckled low. "Yeah, he's cold and distant just like me?"
Your smile dropped, panic set in at his words. "Oh n-no I didn't mean it like that..."
Toji shook his head and looked up at you, a soft chuckle leaving his lips at your panicked expression. "I was joking, I know what you meant." He assured as he watched the sleeping Megumi in his arms.
You let go of a breath you didn't even realize you were holding. "oh right."
Toji whole aura seemed to relax when he held Megumi. You wished he could be around all the time. That he could be the father figure Megumi needed. That he could be the husband you wanted. To come home after a long day, and sit together. To be able to go to him when you needed a hug or reassurance or just wanted to feel loved. Your eyes focused as you realized that Toji was watching you deep in thought. Shaking your head you held out your arms. "I can take him now if you want. I don't want to bother you."
He held onto Megumi for a moment, seeming almost reluctant before handing him over to you. You smiled and nodded at him, turning to leave. He called out to you as you reached the door. "Wait, Y/N-"
You turned to look at him. "What's up?"
He opened his mouth to say something but closed it slowly. "Never mind sorry. Goodnight."
You eyed him for a moment before reluctantly turning away. "Alright... goodnight."
He couldn't bring himself to tell you the things he wanted to say. He couldn't find the words. How does he make up for the suffering you already endured? You had always so easily melted his cold dead heart, so he kept you at a distance but you had been so close. He already felt it melting.
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annabelle--cane · 3 months
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this is a difficult thing to have conversations about because it provokes really strong reactions in people for completely valid and understandable reasons, so please feel free to hit da bricks on this post whenever you want, but I do want to try and analyse the jonmartin slaps. we get three across 160, 169, and 172, and a line addressing it in 173, and then it never happens or comes up again. none of them come out of nowhere, and they mostly fly under the radar until 173 because they all broadly fit the "slapping someone out of a trance in an emergency" trope, but each of them slowly decreases in urgency.
the first time, the apocalypse starts up and martin comes back to find a passed out jon, can't wake him by making noise, and strikes him in a panic. this makes sense, this is a man who has entered a supernatural coma before and martin had no idea what was going on, so of course he'd jump to something desperate.
the second time, they're in a burning building, jude arrives while jon is still mid-statement, and when making noise doesn't work martin slaps him out of it. this makes sense, they were there for jude and if jon didn't come back to himself then she likely would have hurt them, though martin knew that her powers against them were limited.
the third time, jon is getting pulled into into a repeating statement instead of coming out on his own like usual, so martin speaks once or twice to try and get his attention, and then slaps him out of it. this... again, it makes sense, jon was getting trapped, but there was no immediate peril like before, martin just got freaked out and wanted to leave quickly. he seems to get that it was harsh because he apologizes for it, but they don't linger at all, martin just starts in on them having to leave immediately.
the last time it's mentioned is when they're on night street, during what is one of their most intense arguments. jon tries to talk about the suffering of the children there for longer than he needs to in order to make a point, martin cuts him off, and he pointedly says, "thank you for not hitting me this time." it never happens or is brought up again.
to our knowledge, jon doesn't say anything about the slapping until 173. he's not a guy who's known for speaking up when things upset him, he was amiably working with daisy within about a week of her trying to kill him, so it makes sense that he would just sit with this comparatively more minor thing. however, I do think it's relevant to note that, at this point in their relationship, martin will sometimes voice his feelings and boundaries (not listening to statements, not consenting to mind reading, worrying when jon expresses discomfort with his body), while jon doesn't. from the couple of times he does talk about his feelings this season, I think that tendency comes a few places: he has a hard time being aware of his emotions at all, he doesn't know how to evaluate his emotions' importance in comparison to others', he assumes his emotions are obvious and thus people already act with full knowledge of them, and the topic is just hard to make himself talk about. from what he says in 173, I think the slaps bothered him the entire time, but he made himself be fine with it until he was upset with martin for unrelated reasons and finally let it out.
as for martin's side, I do not think the slaps came from any kind of suppressed desire to hurt or wield power over jon. we've seen him when he's angry at jon, this isn't how he acts, he gets shouty and indignant but never violent. I'd even go as far as to say he doesn't do it in 173 because he's genuinely upset at jon and the situation they're in, and it would never occur to him to deliberately inflict pain on someone he cares about to assert control over them. the connecting line between all of them is fear from something that he wants jon to help him handle. the apocalypse starts, he is stuck inside one of his worst nightmares, and he's paranoid that the web took control of him. he's someone who is "always following, never leading" (170), and he gets tunnel vision when something scares him and his "leader" isn't there.
jon did need to be pulled out of all three of those situations, and words proved insufficient, and maybe a quick jolt of pain was the only thing that could have worked, but martin doesn't seem to consider what that would feel like from jon's pov. in my experience of relationships, if there's ever an unavoidable emergency where you do actually need to cross a line that you never would otherwise, you talk about it afterwards. you do a debrief where you say "I'm really sorry about that, I didn't see another way, I'll try and be better prepared next time." they do this for problems they have later on (177, 198), but martin doesn't do that here. jon's point-of-view just doesn't seem to occur to him. when jon expresses discomfort, he drops the tactic without a word; later, when he needs to anchor jon in the panopticon, he talks him through it before it can get too far. so, it's not about a lack of care for jon's feelings.
I think it comes down to a few things: a) his occasional tendency to treat people as a means to an ends and not think about their perspective. he's so glued to putting others first most of the time that when he stops, he can't find a middle ground and forgets that other people can have feelings about his actions. b) his problems with conceiving of himself as a person of any importance who is capable of doing anything, especially of doing harm. as a concept, "hurting jon" is the thing he would least like to do in the whole world, it is his nightmare scenario and literally the culminating moment of his tragedy. he finds it almost unthinkable, so the idea that he does it casually when he's scared doesn't cross his mind. one of his central worries at this point is that jon is now so powerful that he no longer needs martin, how could he hurt someone like that? he's not anywhere near a comparable level of importance, it's not like he has his own domain that he's not aware of because jon told him about it and he immediately rejected the information. he's powerless and could never bring himself to hurt the man he loves.
I just. think it's an interesting microcosm of some of the lows of their relationship. once the problem is discovered martin instantly takes the note and doesn't put it on jon to explain himself further or assuage his guilt, they are willing and able to adapt, but it still comes from some of their bedrock flaws. martin doesn't understand that he can hurt people, and jon has such an inflated understanding of his capacity to hurt people that it sabotages his self-worth and his ability to respond to pain and displeasure.
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imfinereallyy · 11 months
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“Dad is going to be very angry,” El says with wide eyes taking in the scene before them.
“You think Hop will kill him?” Steve says as he leans against the doorway, eating a Twizzler.
El looks at Steve momentarily, sticking her hand out for some candy. Steve hands her one without hesitation. El rips a piece off before speaking. “Oh yes. He might ask you to help hide the body.”
Steve nods solemnly, “I’ll do what needs to be done. Mikes’s my least favorite child anyway.”
“Hey!” Mike yells, gaining the duo's attention. It brings them back to the scene they walked in on. Mike and Will, with the door closed (no three inches in sight) on top of each other, making out.
Steve doesn't think he’ll ever get that image out of his brain.
“Chill, Wheeler, I'm joking,” Steve says pointedly before turning to El and mouthing no, I'm not.
El giggles, and Steve can't help but feel like he won a prize at the sound.
“I'm sorry, El.” Will blushes with shame, like he is betraying his sister somehow.
El just shrugs, “I do not care. But Dad might. He hates Mike.”
Steve snorts, “That's the understatement of the century. I don't think Hop has ever hated someone’s partner like he has Mike. Honestly, I was surprised he liked Eddie. I mean like is a strong word. But he tolerates him.”
Will pipes up, “I think he does mostly because he knows you'll move out, and he only just got you to agree to stay here.”
Steve shrugs, “I’ll take what I can get. At least he doesn't walk on me having sex.”
“We weren't having sex!” Mike practically screams. Hands up exasperated. “And don't talk about you and Eddie; it's gross.”
Will blushes deeply with head in his hands, “Oh, God.” El pats him on the shoulder in sympathy.
“Also, this wouldn't have happened if you weren't an idiot and just knocked!” Mike stomps. Jesus, this kid is 15 acting 6.
“I was the one who walked in, Mike. I wanted to know if Will wanted to watch a movie.” El says coldly, getting defensive of her brother.
Mike clams up, Steve can't help but feel smug.
“Who’s having sex?!?” A distinct Hopper-like voice echoes through the house.
Will and Mike share a panicked look while Steve and El take more Twizzlers from the bag.
“Oh no. Mike! What are we going to do?”
Mike sputters, “He doesn't have to know it was us! And we weren't having sex!”
Will looks at him like Mike is the biggest moron he's ever met. Steve loves the kid (despite early protest) but has to agree. “Oh gee Mike, I wonder who he will think it was about. Steve? Who is dating a man who isn't here and keep in mind, it's Steve. Who is our brother, and five years older than us? And in a relationship? And let's not forget..is Steve?!”
“This is fair.” Steve agrees. If anyone but Baby Byers had attempted to say that, Steve would have been pissed. But it's Will, so it's coming from a good place.
“Also! Also! The other person here is El! Who is my sister! Not to mention your ex—”
“—well it could have been—”
“Micheal Steven Wheeler, if the next words out of your mouth are it could have been you and El, I will never be kissing you again.” Will uses a deathly tone. Steve isn't convinced he didn't get from El.
“Your middle name is Steven?” Steve fills giddy.
“Shut up Steve!”
Will pinches his brows, “And you idiot, if it were you and El, you would still he toast.”
Steve whistles, “Shit, Will. Next time I need to win an argument against Eddie. I'm coming to you.”
“How long does it take for dad to get upstairs?” El interrupts.
All of them look down the hall. “Huh, maybe we are in the clear,” Mike whispers.
“I said who is having sex?!?” Hopper comes thundering up the stairs.
“I think this is what Max calls a jinx.” El looks at Mike unphased.
Steve can't help but feel a little bad for Will. He looks panicked around the room, probably looking for a hiding place. Steve knows that it isn't that same fear Will once had of Lenny, Hop wouldn't hurt them ever, but he can't help but feel a little protective of him. Steve knows all too well how the fears of biological fathers can sneak up on you, even if you know you're safe. “Don’t worry, Will. I'll make sure Hop takes it easy.”
Will relaxes, “Thanks Steve.”
“What about me?” Mike asks, eyes wide.
El shares a look with Steve. Spending as much time as they have lately has allowed them to talk without speaking most of the time. It freaks everyone but Robin out (she gets it). Seconds go by before they both nod in agreement.
Steve and El both wip their heads towards Mike, and Steve says, “You were grossed out by my relationship and called me stupid. Suffer.”
Mike's outcry is in synch with Hop breaking through screaming, “There better be three inches!”
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jupipedia · 9 months
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— mine yours. - s. gojo. playboy!gojo x reader. warnings : nsfw [ minor do not interact!! ], cunnilingus, orgasm denial, possessive!gojo, praising, lowkey angst, tbh this is pretty tame, not beta read lol, idk if i missed anything !
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gojo was infuriating to say the least.
he was beyond spoiled, born with a silver spoon in his mouth. he was used to the best. he had the best clothes, the best schools, the best friends, and even the best women. he's known for having a new girl every now and then, always just as beautiful as the last, driving them around his luxury car until he got bored of them and dropped them.
he's used to getting his way every time, not settling until things were in his favor. he hates being told no when he wants something. he's persistent in all of the wrong ways and for all of the wrong reasons.
however, you couldn't bring yourself to complain as he was knuckles deep into your core, curling his fingers perfectly as he sucked on you clit. your hands were tangled in his white hair, back arched off of your comforter as you withered in pleasure.
the arrangement between the two of you was a bit different that gojo was used to. the girls he was with usually like being shown off. they liked being spoiled with the little gifts he would give them. they would brag about him to anyone who would listen, even going as far to post pictures of the two of them kissing, not that he minded.
you, on the other hand, acted like he barely existed despite spending almost every night in his bed and almost every morning eating at his house, wearing one of his shirts. you didn't go out of your way to see him, you didn't accept any of the things he bough you aside from a necklace on your birthday, hell you didn't even speak to him when you were in the same room if other people were there. he would be lying if he said his pride wasn't hurt.
"got the sweetest pussy, pretty girl," he muttered around your clit, the vibrations adding to the stimulation as you tightened your grip on his hair. he'd spent the last half hour between your legs, having pulled three powerful orgasms from you. he would deny you your release and have the ache build up a few times which led to an earth-shattering orgasm that made your ears ring and vision blur.
"everything about you is just so cute," he released your clit and took one last swipe through your folds before he began to kiss up your torso, stopping to deliver a harsh suck at each nipple before continuing his path to your lips. "so. fucking. cute."
"toru," you whined out as he removed his fingers from your cunt, bringing them to his lips to suck clean before kissing you deeply, your heady taste present on his tongue.
"patience, beautiful. you and i need to have a little chat," he said, opening the foil of the condom with his teeth and rolling it on. as he lined himself up with your entrance, he spread your legs, offering himself a full view of your cunt.
"we have to talk right now? it can't wait—ah!" gojo ignored your words, pushing slowly into your heat and pausing when he was mostly inside.
"please move," you tried to thrust your hips, but gojo was quick to pin them back to mattress.
"here's how this is gonna go. i'll move as much as you want me to, but you don't get to cum until you say that you're mine," he groaned in your ear, unable to resist the shiver crawling up his spine as he settled deeper into your core. you tossed your head back as the tip of his cock scraped your walls deliciously.
"didn't know—fuck!" your snarky remark died on your tongue as he suddenly began to thrust his hips, setting a pace that numbed your mind.
"you can keep the sarcastic remarks. not interested in those right now," he grunted, biting down on your shoulder, hoping to ground himself. your mind grew foggy as you grew closer to your release. you couldn't form coherent words, let alone fulfill gojo's request.
you weren't totally clueless as to where this behavior came from. if anyone asked you if you even knew gojo, you would deny it without hesitation. it didn't matter how many times he fucked you or how many late night dates the two of you went on, you would not admit to dating the man.
and it wasn't even to save face, you just didn't think what you and gojo had going on was that serious. you knew his track record and thought it'd be best to skip any unnecessary future drama that would come with being "satoru's girl".
"'t-toru~ i'm gonna—n-no, please~," you whined as gojo's thrusts paused as your release approached.
"aht aht aht, you haven't said it so you don't get to cum," he said, continuing his pace when he was sure your pending orgasm subsided.
"satoru please! i just wan' cum on your cock," you whined in his ear, arching your back as he grazed your g-spot.
"and i wanna hear you say that you're mine. mine to kiss. mine to hold. mine to fuck," he emphasized his sentences with harsh thrusts. "my girl."
"why—ah! why w-would i say that when y-you aren't mine? i k-know how you work, 'toru," you pushed out, forcing yourself to focus on speaking as he fucked you dumb.
gojo paused in his thrusts to look at you, disbelief painting his face. "you think i spend my friday nights watching scooby doo movies with you just so i can fuck you? you think i wake up before you to cook you breakfast just so i can get some pussy? you think that i help you go over your proposals a thousand time as test runs because i just want to have sex with you? i must've fucked you stupid or something because that's the stupidest shit i've ever heard you say."
"'toru, you know that's not what i meant. i was just saying—fuck!" your arms shot out to hold gojo's hips, hoping to stop his resumed thrusting.
"i know you meant, pretty," he hummed as he picked up his pace. "change of plans. you can come as many times as you want, but i'm not stopping until you understand that not only are you mine, but i'm yours. got it?"
fuck, you were in for a long night.
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jewshboy · 2 years
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what do u do when one of the most important relationships in ur life just keep hurting lol
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lunarw0rks · 8 months
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Hello! I just found your blog and I just started reading everything I saw 😅. Can I request 141 + König + Alejandro with a pregnant reader? They don't know yet and when the reader will break the news they are really stressed with work and end up taking it out on the reader, they end up getting into an argument and saying they hate the reader and that their life would be so much better without the reader in it (😈). The reader takes this seriously and leaves when they are asleep... Months later they meet again when the reader is on her way to the hospital to give birth (😈). Angst to fluff pls. If you don't feel good about writing or it's too big, that's fine. Have a nice day and thank you so much for all the time you spend writing to us.
The Things We Say // 141 Drabble
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Summary: You're expecting, but it's not good news. To him, at least. Your relationship takes a hit, but once he meets your child, he's swallowed with regret for how he treated you.
Warning(s): angst to fluff, hurt/comfort, pregnancy, childbirth, mentions of premature birth/complications, mild injury/blood, strong language, established relationship, fem!Reader, no use of y/n
A/N: I was hurting my own feelings---but, there's fluff after the angst, so don't get too upset besties<3 Hope you don't mind anon, I took some creative liberty because I didn't want them all to have the same plotline. | Word Count: 5.9k
꒦꒷ MAIN MASTERLIST ꒷꒦ 141 MASTERLIST // have a request? ⋆ ⚘ 🕊 ˚✧ ₊˚ʚ ao3 ver.
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SYNOPSIS; he had been in the thick of it lately, sometimes more overwrought when at home with you than in active combat, it seemed. Conversations were either abrupt, crude, or nonexistent—often just building on top of the tension building between the two of you. Relationships were supposed to be fifty-fifty, but you felt you were carrying the burden of the whole percentage. That’s why the news couldn’t have come at a worse time—you, staring at the two lines instead of one. No matter how long you stared, double-checked the diagram, the answer was the same. Pregnant. So, now you knew two things for certain, you were expecting, and most heartbreaking—the other one responsible was at his worst. To break the news to him, it took every fiber of your being.
⋘ » ☆ « ⋙
AFTERMATH; nine months of hell. That’s how you would answer if someone asked. Few people did though, even at work or out on the street. There was the occasional boy or girl, how are you feeling. But they were being polite, or taking pity on the pregnant woman without a ring on her finger. The pregnant woman with bags under her eyes, the one who winces with each step because she’s ready to pop. None of it meant anything to you, because the other half of this responsibility had been left in the dark, and not for much longer. You weren’t raising this child alone, no matter how irate he was going to be when you contacted him.
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Price
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One of John’s many talents; stewing on his feelings, keeping them suppressed for an unnatural amount of time.
Often so long that he forgot about the source of his anger once he had time to catch up to them. That is… Until his work was involved. Then he was an entirely different man, often spending his time deep in a bottle and with a nose deep in paperwork, with little regard for anyone else around him.
His control, it was typically so consistent, that he knew not to bring his professional problems home. But lately? It’s been anything but typical. He wasn’t what you would call mean, but there was definitely a negative word to describe it. Cold? Apathetic? Perhaps even unwelcoming?
The bickering, if you could call it that, had droned on for several minutes now. Though, it was mostly you venting your frustrations to an uninterested Price. ❝I know it’s not good timing, John. Why the fuck do you think I’m in here trying to reason with you? Are we just supposed to ignore this until we can’t anymore?❞ You hissed, tempted to rip the paperwork from his grip to get him to pay attention.
He always wanted children, but not right now. Naturally, that’s when it happened. He felt like he was drowning, at first only professionally, but now personally too. The funds weren’t a problem, the kid had two parents, but… you and him—nothing was working.
❝Sweetheart, I’m in the thick of it right now. Please.❞ He didn’t need to raise his voice for you to see how irritated he was. Perhaps at the baby, you, himself, or all the above. ❝I have a meeting.❞ He stood up from his workspace, steaming coffee in hand.
John walked away from you like you were a pestering soldier, not the mother of his child. Enough was enough.
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He thought he was slick, only giving you physical checks to see your face, to ensure that you were indeed alright. It was often the coffee shop within equal walking distance of your two separate homes. John would always slide the amount you needed across the table, a look of remorse on his face. Each monthly meeting, your stomach would grow in size, as did your drained expression.
But you wouldn’t talk to him. You would only text him the amount, nod when he asked questions. It was the worst torture you could put a man like John through—one that needed the approval of his loved ones. It just couldn’t happen, not yet. The wounds of how he treated you, they were too fresh, even after nine months of this routine.
To be truthful, you debated on even calling him when you went into labor. You could do it alone, right? With just the support of the delivery nurses, and most of all your baby girl as the reward? Perhaps you could wait until after, give him the respect to at least meet his daughter. For someone not carrying a child, he looked just as beat; sunken eyes, less tidy facial hair than usual, and somehow even more tobacco on his breath.
John was clawing himself from the inside out, begging for something other than a “yes” or “no” from your lips.
❝I can’t do this,❞ you repeated it about fifty times, tears streaming down your cheeks from both the pain and the distraught feelings. That plan you had to not call him, it was falling through quite quickly. This level of agony? You needed someone other than a doctor. You needed the father, as much as it pained you to admit.
❝Yes, you can dear, women have babies everyday.❞ Bless the nurse, she was trying her best to keep you calm, but it didn’t work.
What if something went wrong? If somehow you didn’t make it but your baby girl did, she would be alone until he got here… That couldn’t, no—wouldn’t happen. He needed to be there, right beside this bed to hold her in case you couldn’t.
In between your pained grunts, you finally spit out what you’d been trying to tell her, finding a split second of sensibility during all this distress. ❝Call… John. Please, call him!❞
The doors swung open faster than any of the personnel, his gaze softening when he saw you breathing in a patterned fashion. The nurse beside you gave him a nod, freeing your hand for him to take her place. John wasn’t going to miss this, and frankly, he was irked that he almost did. But he wasn’t irked at you; he was irked at himself for taking this for granted.
His soothing voice talks you through each contraction, a soothing hand dabbing away the sweat and tears streaming down your face.
❝I got you, sweetheart. You’re almost done pushing.❞ Though he looked gruff on the outside, inside he was distraught. You had maintained the cold shoulder throughout the pregnancy, but you still called him here? You were more than he deserved in his eyes.
The last round of pushing, and they were close together now. You had about thirty seconds to say this, before you were screaming again.❝I’m glad you’re here.❞ Despite all the pain you were in, you gave his hand a squeeze, staring at him with a glossy expression.
His eyes nearly watered; the first sentence you had uttered to him in months, and it was clear you meant every bit of it. You needed him and so did your daughter, right here right now. He pressed a kiss to your temple, a soothing massaging your shoulder.
John kept his tone firm on purpose, to emphasize how deeply he cared for you right now. ❝I’ll always be here for you, love. Always.❞ 
Simon
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Simon loved deep; hated even deeper.
It was one of the features that drew you to him in the first place, how blunt he could be, how his broodiness contrasted your personality in more ways than one. His cynical behavior could be humorous, could be reassuring, but most of all—bitter. To add stress to the equation, to bring it home? He was an explosive disaster waiting to happen.
❝Simon,❞ you approached from behind, holding the test in your hands, because you knew the first question he would ask when you told him; is if you took one. Well, if he wasn’t actively cursing under his breath, he would’ve.
Instead, he merely flicked his eyes over for a brief moment, as if you were a stranger on the street that said excuse me. ❝Simon.❞ Your tone grew firmer, clutching the stick with more apprehension.
❝Bloody Christ, what?❞ He shifted in his seat, bloodshot and hooded eyes that only twisted the knife further. You couldn’t tell him now, not with the pressure of being on the spot. The right words just wouldn’t come out, prompting you to put the stick behind your back. ❝Goddamn nuisance.❞ He muttered under his breath as if it was only supposed to be an internal thought. 
Though, he didn’t look all that remorseful about it—at least on the outside.
He had never said anything like that before, at least not to your face. It seemed, all the weeks of tension and cold shoulder, it was enough. You were done and out the door the second he’d dozed.
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Simon made a few futile attempts to reach out, but his own stubbornness prevented him from ever being face-to-face. He beat himself up so badly, and from his side of things—he’d only lost one person, not two.
It pained you to ask the delivery nurse to call him. You wanted to shove the crowning newborn right back inside and hold off, to go find him yourself and smack sense into him for putting you through this agony. But you couldn’t. Quite literally couldn’t get up, and didn’t want to. Resulting in pettiness and venom would make you worse than him because you would be using this child as a pawn.
He said nothing, but his eyes said enough. The nurses put a sterile drape over his shoulders, but he paid them no mind. His amber eyes remained on you; a bulging belly and an expression of pure agony. Had he missed something, a crucial chapter of your new life post-breakup? Most of all, why did you call him?
❝Hold my hand.❞ Simon found the side of your bed, allowing you to dig your fingernails into his forearm until there were imprints. He had few words, but the countenance of concern and guilt said it all. If this wasn’t his… you would’ve done this alone, or the father would be here. Then it dawned on him; it was his.
Hours passed, and he still hadn’t mentioned the obvious. Nine months without his support—financial or moral. You needed rest, as did the baby girl—so you were getting it, first and foremost. The adult matters would be better talked about when you weren’t still freshly recovering.
Simon tapped his foot against the tile, sitting in the chair beside the bed. He was unsure of who to keep an eye on more; the newborn swaddled in her own crib, or you, exhaustedly sleeping in your hospital bed. Though he’d held the girl, it felt forbidden, like he was only a placeholder until your body recovered enough to do it yourself. It was shock preventing him from feeling, not cruelty.
You stirred awake, a sigh of contempt when you laid eyes on him. The labor was a blur your mind had already shut out, and you truly didn’t recall the nurses contacting him. Your eyes were glossy with dark circles underneath them. ❝I’m…❞ It was like the night you tried to tell him but couldn’t, the words wouldn’t come out.
Simon saw that look in your eyes; the fear that he would explode, or storm out and leave you with the child forever—but he wasn’t. All the years of trying to not relieve the same mistakes his own father made, it would be useless if he did that. And he couldn’t, seeing that look of desperation on your face, how you looked as if you were going to burst into tears at the sight of him. That look, it was the same one that gnawed at him during those months apart, how he found you and your belongings gone.
It wasn’t supposed to be like this. ❝Shh… Don’t apologize. Ever.❞ He was hovering now, a kiss pressed to your forehead. Whatever you decided when you were healed enough, he would take it like a man, because he had the audacity to speak to you like a man who wronged him.
Soap
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Soap was… a complicated man to say the least. Usually, he was sweet, charming, with the right amount of cockiness. His ability to make you laugh drew you into him in the first place. But it was dwindling—at least during the past few weeks. Now, all that remained was smugness and bitter mutters under the breath.
❝Don’t be a child about this, we’ll figure it out,❞ He says, slamming his car door behind you. The first time you two had been out to dinner together in weeks, spoiled because you finally broke the news to him. You teared up in the restaurant because his reaction was anything but accepting, and frankly, he found it embarrassing.
He hadn’t meant it that way—that’s just how it came out.
He truly did want to figure this baby thing out, but it was the worst possible timing; an all-time high of stress at work, bickering with you constantly. And now, a third added to the dynamic with only months to prepare? It was too much. ❝Oh, I’m acting like a child?❞ You walked into the house, taking off the jewelry you had on to look nice for him.
The bickering that ensued—it was nothing nice, nothing you’d care to remember.
❝I don’t want you to go, lass. Don’t do this.❞ You had already made up your mind. Perhaps it was your emotions clouding your judgment, that instinct you felt being a few weeks along… It didn’t matter, you couldn’t be here. Not with him, not right now.
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You were about to pop, literally any day now. You knew that meant you would have to talk to the father, and interact with him for about eighteen years—at least be civil. But the rationality of it, how you would have to co-parent with him, didn’t ease your anxieties. Of course, he was adamant about checking up on you and being more of a parasite than the fetus taking half your energy.
You closed the car door with your hip, a slow waddle up the pavement. Where the hell your keys were, that was another story—something you would deal with once you rolled yourself up to the door.
❝What the hell are you doin’?❞ The voice nearly made you drop all the grocery bags in your grasp, a jumpy shriek coming out. When you whipped around, it was Soap, a look of upset on his very expressive face.
Once you started to recover from the scare of a lifetime, an unintentional one at that, a scowl formed on your face. It was like he had a sense of the absolute worst time to show up and annoy you, especially now that you were swollen and extra agitated. ❝A phone call would’ve worked, Johnny. Or, I don’t know, maybe a ‘hey I’m right behind you, lady’!❞ You attempted to mock his accent out of pure frustration, but he didn’t find the humor in it, at least not right away.
He yanked the bags out of your grip, stomping up the steps of your porch. ❝You shouldn’t be carryin’ these.❞ You really should not be doing that, he was right, but the thought of him being your grocery boy—showing up even more? ❝Keys.❞ He held out his free hand, the other one swimming in bags. It was ridiculous, apparently, you weren’t allowed to twist a key now, either.
You shove past him once he’s turned the key, squeezing past and joining him in the kitchen. Without a word, he starts putting away anything and everything you bought. Some are nutritious, others purely to feed your cravings. ❝Don’t start.❞ You pointed a finger at him when he picked up a family-sized bag of candy, a smart-ass comment daring to escape his lips.
❝God, I can’t believe you, Johnny. Sneaking up on me like that, I could’ve fallen.❞ You put an instinctive hand on your stomach, still irked by his presence.
❝No, you would’ve fallen carrying all those bags yourself. I have a right to be worried, it’s my bloody kid too.❞ He retorts, a hand on his hip. He’s done all he’s obligated to now; carrying and putting away your groceries.
You tighten your lips into a line, fighting the urge to start a full-blown argument. ❝Yeah, you remind me every day, so thanks for tha— Shit.❞ It seemed, raising your voice counted as exerting yourself because there was a sudden cramp in your stomach, a trickle down your pant leg.
Soap’s eyes widened, seeing you go from scolding him to hunched over and holding your stomach. You had forced yourself into labor, now standing on knees about to buckle. ❝I’ve got you, now get going woman, before I put you over my shoulder.❞ He felt he had never moved faster, a tight fist around your forearm to keep you standing as he led you through the door you had just walked in.
It seemed there was little time between being admitted to actively pushing. This kid wanted out, and right this second. You let out a shriek as the back of your head slammed against the pillow, sweat trickling down your brow as you cursed and wailed. ❝I know it hurts, love, but you got this.❞ He allowed you to clamp down on his hand, to dig your fingertips until they drew blood.
❝Oh, you know do you?!❞ You snapped at him, finding it hard to be nice when you felt like you were being ripped in half.
❝If I wasn’t,❞ you grunted in between words, face scrunched and labored breathing, ❝stuck in this damn bed, I would so… hurt you right now, Johnny.❞ He fought the urge to snicker just a little bit, masking it with his concern for you. Seeing you in agony, even when you were actively snapping at him, it didn’t please him one bit.
Well, you were arguing with him, so he knew you weren’t actively dying.
If you used enough of that anger, it would help you literally push through the pain, just like how it caused the kid to want to come out right this second. For once, his pestering and sarcasm were actually helping.
With one final wave of it, your back arched off the bed and finally, the loud cry of an infant filled the white-walled room. Soap nearly fainted, if he was being honest—he was awfully squeamish for someone who dealt with blood daily. But it was your blood and… fluids, things that made him shiver when he pictured how painful that could’ve been.
The doctors were speedy, cleaning off and checking vitals. All he could do was stare at the newborn—his baby boy. And then he looked at you, choked up and stared in awe at the baby set on your chest. ❝Jesus…❞ he leaned down, placing a gentle hand on yours as it held the child’s head.
All the fighting, all the bickering, even the late-night candy runs—they were well worth it. He had a second chance now, to make things right with you, and to be a decent father.
Gaz
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Gaz could be hotheaded, sometimes downright blunt, especially when he’s passionate about something to do with his work. The night you were going to break the news, nothing was going right. He came home in a huff, not bothering to take off his boots before plopping on the sofa. Kyle had a right to be stressed; look at what he does all day. But he didn’t have a right to be cruel to you because of it.
You took a seat beside him and set the positive test down on his thigh. A silence followed by a scowl, and then he finally spoke. ❝You can’t be serious.❞ It nearly gutted you right then and there. His leg began to bounce anxiously the longer he glanced at the life-changing test results. 
❝Kyle, I—❞ you weren’t even sure what you were trying to say either, not that he gave you a chance. ❝I don’t have time for this, babe. I really can’t do this right now.❞ He put his head in his hands, a flustered groan escaping his lips.
❝Are you saying you don’t want this? That we shouldn’t have done this?❞ You were suddenly standing, eyes wide and watering. You felt like you had just been dumped on the street, despite his unclear tone.
He peered up, lips in a blunt line. ❝Maybe we shouldn’t have.❞ You could’ve crawled into a hole and died right then and there, but you merely nodded. Nodded and then left the room, leaving him to his moodiness. No, it wasn’t the best timing, but that didn’t give him the right to brush you off, to treat you like a distasteful afterthought.
It wasn’t just you anymore, it was you and the baby.
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It was one of his few days off—though he wasn’t feeling much relaxation. You were still hot and cold with him, now about halfway through your third trimester; thirty-two weeks to be exact. It was nearing that point, where he had prepared a spare room for the baby, began coordinating plans for labor, etc… 
But he still didn’t feel ready, or like he deserved you after how cruel he was that night. Kyle was only helping you to help you and the baby.
His phone buzzed, right when he had begun relaxing for the evening. 10:32 PM; and it was your number. The second he heard the voice of a nurse on the other line, not yours, his feet were halfway out the front door.
❝I’m fine, Kyle. I’m fine…❞ It seemed no matter how many times you repeated it, he didn’t seem to believe it. From the minute he entered your hospital room to now, he had at least one hand on you, a thumb grazing the cuts and bruises on your body. You had been in a car accident—mild for you, life-threatening for a preemie. ❝You’re not fine.❞ he said firmly, eyes darting towards your clothes bagged in the corner—bloodied and with windshield pieces still embedded.
Kyle was more worried about you at first, but you were solely concerned about your baby—left alone in the NICU being poked and prodded by personnel. You had to be induced, otherwise he wouldn’t have made it past the front doors. Now, he was too weak to be visited, too small and vulnerable to be held by his own mother yet. It was gut-wrenching; hours without a solid answer, because his chances depended solely on him making it through the night.
Now, there was nothing to do but wait, perhaps see your baby through a glass box if you got lucky.
❝He’s perfect,❞ Kyle peered down at the preemie in his hands, a baggy blue cap on his head. There were small babies, and he was somehow smaller. What once was the scare of a lifetime, it was now a passing memory to remind Gaz of what he could’ve lost. He would never make the mistake of talking to you like that again, even if the two events didn’t correlate.
What if the night you left, you got into an accident then, and it was much worse? He wouldn’t be able to live with himself, plain and simple. ❝It’s cheesy but, he does have your eyes.❞ You whispered from the nursing chair you were sitting in, still healing and fatigued from the ordeal. The picture in front of you; Kyle looking at your son with such love—it was irreplaceable and forever stuck in your memories.
❝Correct. But he has your scowl, babe.❞ Gaz flicked his eyes upwards, feeling you gently nudge his shin at the sound of the comment.
It didn’t matter the things he said months ago, as long as he cherished this new life with you as much as you planned to.
Alejandro
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Alejandro always had passion for the things he cherished; you and his work, nothing else mattered more. Passion led to intense feelings, intense feelings turned into misplaced bitterness. It wasn’t your fault that you were expecting, no more than it was his, at least. He knew that and had he just taken a breath and thought more carefully about his phrasing, this whole mess could’ve been avoided.
❝Do you think I wanted to interrupt you, Alejandro?❞ You hissed, standing in the doorway of his office with the positive test in your hands. He had just looked at you with such distaste as if you were the root cause of his stress and not his work.
What better way to stir the pot, than to match his wrath? Well, it certainly did that, though seeing him rage was the last sight you wanted to see. Alejandro always had trouble with his anger, often finding himself with all these feelings he had no clue how to control.
❝You always do what you want!❞ There it was, him blowing his fuse. He’d thrown his hands in the air, face tightened into a scowl. He couldn’t leave it at that, either, not when his rage came in such intense waves. ❝You’ll do what you always do—bleed me dry!❞
You couldn’t speak, despite how vicious you felt only seconds before. It seemed too truthful for your liking like he had been waiting for an excuse to spill his guts. ❝As long as you have enough to amuse yourself, I’m nothing to you, right?❞ He wasn’t yelling anymore, but his mocking tone was enough to tear at your heartstrings.
Had he seriously played that card with you—the man always insistent on taking care of you, financially, physically, emotionally? Now, of all times? The argument ended with you slamming the front door behind you, something he would’ve done.
➴➵➶➴➵➶➴➵➶➴➵➶➴➵➶
You spent weeks ignoring him, and throughout the pregnancy, it was dry texts or brief calls. His only sign that you were even alive was the notification that you had used his account to purchase necessities. The irony of it made Alejandro nauseous, how awful he made it sound that you were doing what he told you to; to let him take care of you. The fact that you didn’t drain the funds, only bought what you needed, spoke volumes.
❝I’m not upset at you, amor—I wasn’t upset with you.❞
Alejandro reached a hand across the picnic table, a firm but loving grip on your forearm. You looked beat; hair a different length than before, exhausted eyes that were brimming with tears, and most of all a growing stomach. It was all his fault; the reason you didn’t want to face him like this, in fear that he would cut you and the baby off for good. Only, he was there to see your face, not for confrontation or another spat.
It didn’t matter what you said, if you screamed at him right now, or said nothing. Alejandro had made up his mind the night you left. ❝I’ll come to every appointment, parenting class, anything.❞
Of all the nights for you to be in labor, it had to be during a wicked storm. You had gone over to his house to make civil conversation over dinner, to at least attempt at repairing things. He had slaved over the stove, cooking his favorite for you. For most of the meal, things were… surprisingly tranquil; even romantic.
You were heavily pregnant, were you supposed to refuse a warm meal? Not a chance. You were too full, too swollen to get up out of the dining chair once the meal finished. And looking out the window? There was no way in hell Alejandro was going to let you drive home in this; droplets whipped down, trees and waste bins flew away from the force of it, and the rain was icy. Well, you were exhausted, and he had a bed he was willing to give up. Your back and feet practically sighed in relief when you laid back in his bed, the one you two once shared. It was a nice feeling, being there again and knowing Alejandro was trying his hardest to plead forgiveness.
About an hour into your much needed-slumber, you felt a pool in the sheets. Instinctually, you figured it was the fetus pressing on your bladder—a downright embarrassing thing you’d have to wake up and explain to him. But… it was clear it wasn’t that. You were in labor and stuck here.
The shriek you let out when you got a violent contraction; Alejandro dashed quicker than he ever did when dodging bullets. His fumbling fingers dialed 911, yanking the comforter off the bed to get a better view of your dilation. Fortunately, he was trained on how to deliver a baby when stranded, or in a country without medical support. But this was his baby and your life was in his hands. If he didn’t do this correctly, if something went wrong, he would never forgive himself.
The ambulance wouldn’t be there for an hour—you didn’t have an hour to spare, this baby was coming now. ❝You can do this, amor, we’re doing this together.❞ One hand clenched yours, the other kept an eye on the crowning baby. Just how you hadn’t woken up sooner, neither of you knew. Perhaps you had gotten so used to cramps and pains, that you thought it was just another sleepless night courtesy of the little one.
The moment your wails went silent as his baby girl finally came, Alejandro felt his heart drop. He had to make the worst decision; focusing on the newborn first. He wrapped her in one of his shirts, wiping the fluid and blood from her small face. As he cradled her, a quick hand fingered for a pulse, a loud sigh escaping his lips when he felt one. You had only passed out from the pain—probably doing you a service, considering he didn’t have the proper medication to numb your pain.
Your eyes fluttered open at the sound of the wailing child, still with gritted teeth. But your baby was there—and her lungs were very clearly working. Alejandro set her down on your chest, allowing you to hold your daughter for the first time. ❝You did so well, cariño. Look at her.❞ He was merely distracting you with the baby on your chest, to not divert your attention towards the state your body was in as he cleaned you up.
Somehow, he had pulled this off with both his girls safe, soon to be checked out properly at a hospital. When you first broke the news, he thought he knew the meaning of being so suddenly thrust into fatherhood, but that took on a whole new meaning after tonight.
König
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There had once been a line he didn’t cross, but he did that night. König never yelled at you. He saved that stern side of him for his work because it was acceptable there. But in the weeks that his work had bled onto you, spoiling the relationship, his values seemed to loosen. Though he was a complicated man, a man uncertain of himself and his appearance, he maintained a hardness about him. Ruthless in the field and immensely protective of anyone that had come to love him. 
You approached him as he worked, placing the test on the desk he was sitting at. ❝König, I need to tell you something.❞
With his head facing the paperwork, he merely shrugged at you. Until he saw what you’d placed there, his eyes going wide. But it wasn’t shock or excitement; it was disdain for the fact that this baby was just another interruption—you were just another interruption. ❝I have no time for this, Schatz, you know that.❞
He didn’t need to raise his voice for his words to sting, his bitter tone was more than enough. But he surely hadn’t meant it like that, right? He’d meant he didn’t have time for this right now… right?
❝Why don’t you go rest, then?❞ He asks, picking up the folder that he was reading previously. It wasn’t a request made out of concern, König was patronizing you. His glare was typically enough to make a soldier scramble, but you just stood there for a few seconds, biting back the urge to choke.
How you left that night, it wasn’t dramatic or emotional, it was dry. König tells you to think clearly about this, to sleep on it. But you couldn’t—and you weren’t going to be a verbal punching bag.
➴➵➶➴➵➶➴➵➶➴➵➶➴➵➶
König only called you weekly for appointment updates, or to let you know he had sent you a check. Other than that, words dripped with tension and the urge to say so much more. But you were too stubborn for your own good, and so was he. You were more concerned with hosting life than playing games with a father who treated you like a wimp.
He’d only seen you once, during the second trimester when he showed up at your apartment. You protested, but he showed up anyway, saying he needed “proof” that you and the fetus were safe. The voice on the phone wasn’t enough, in his eyes.
Of course, when you needed him most, screaming and keeling over in the kitchen, he wasn’t there. It was a neighbor that called an ambulance for you because they knew they had a pregnant tenant next door. In fact, it was such a close call, you nearly didn’t make it to the delivery room before the newborn came out wailing.
The only plus side? While the paramedics were deterring you from pushing, you’d sent a text—probably unintelligible—but a text, nonetheless. He knew your due date, how today was only a few days off, and he was in his car before he could grasp the severity of this new life stage.
❝I’m here, schätzchen. I’m not going to hurt you again, or him.❞ He hunched over the bed, eyes in a perpetual state of disbelief as he watched you soothe the whining newborn. Clarity hit him like a truck when he heard your screams during delivery, and then he was all in. Not that he had a choice, this was his doing too.
He had given you the financial support to get proper nutrition for you and the baby, to pay for the appointments, but that wasn’t enough—not in König’s eyes. He needed to snap out of his self-pity and be a support system. Whether you wanted to co-parent or work on repairing the relationship, you were not under any circumstances taking care of this newborn alone, at your apartment.
He placed a hand in your hair, threading his fingers through the strands. ❝We can clear out the spare room, hm? There’s more than enough room for the two of you.❞ He was already picturing it, how he was going to pull an all-nighter and get to work on the room, going to your apartment and moving the baby supplies from yours to his.
König didn’t need to state the obvious, that you weren’t bound to any type of relationship besides the one concerning the child. Whether you wanted to move out once the baby hit a certain age or not, he was going to keep an eye on the two of you.
Two of you, not just the newborn you were rocking. It was either both of you, or neither, and he was intent on it being the first option.
If you made it this far - THANK YOU!
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meggtheegg · 5 months
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FNAF Movie Theory...
I'm pretty sure there's still one major plot twist in the universe of the movie that's been set up for a sequel but hasn't actually happened yet. Heavy spoilers under the cut:
After watching the movie in theaters and then revisiting a few scenes on Peacock, I'm still kind of convinced that Mike Schmidt is Michael Afton.
Here's my reasoning. A lot of the characters spend time acting like they know something the audience/other characters don't, and those things are...mostly resolved. But some of them just...kind of aren't.
The main thing that sticks out to me is William's whole storyline. Starting with the scene where he offers Mike the job, his behavior is almost explained by the movie's logic. He sees Mike's name, seems...kind of deeply upset, looks at him very closely, stands to get coffee, and has a moment of visible internal conflict. Then he instantly offers him the Freddy's job. The way the movie frames this, it seems to be saying that he recognized the name of one of his victims, realized this was the kid's brother, and decided to kill him right then and there. Which is passable as an explanation, but it has a lot of holes, if you look deeper.
Why would William so instantly recognize a fairly common last name as the brother of some kid he killed that wasn't even anywhere near Freddy's? Why did he kidnap/kill Garrett in the first place, in some random forest in Nebraska? Why did he see the name on the file, then immediately stop and examine Mike's face so closely, when Mike's memories/dreams pretty clearly show that they never saw each others' faces when Garrett was taken? Why did he send Vanessa to "keep Mike in the dark" if he purposely gave him the job to get him killed? Why not have the animatronics kill him right away? He didn't know that Mike was searching for the man who took his brother, and while he could have maybe guessed he was still actively haunted by what happened based on Mike beating up a guy that he thought was kidnapping someone, it still feels like a weird choice to go and hire him, then just have him do the job with no issue for a few days.
As for Vanessa, we see that she's been cleaning up William's messes for years. Why is Mike the one she changes her mind and stands up to her father for? There's no implied romance between the two and no particularly meaningful connection beyond them both having family issues. I guess she cares about Abby because she's a kid, but kids getting hurt clearly never stopped her from helping her father before.
And, on a more meta level, this is Scott and his storytelling style we're talking about. The man puts plot twists inside of plot twists and everything always ties back into the Aftons, somehow.
So, here's my theory: I think that Mike is William's kid, but Mike's mom left Afton when he was young and remarried the man that Mike thinks is his father.
It seems convoluted and maybe cliche, but if it's true, then suddenly there's an answer to all of those questions. "Michael Schmidt" isn't exactly an eye-catching name, unless you had a kid named Michael and your ex-wife married a guy with the last name Schmidt. Garrett's kidnapping, then, becomes an act of intentional, petty revenge rather than an extremely random coincidence. Giving Mike the job and sending in Vanessa suddenly becomes about piecing together how much he knows and figuring out if he's worth trying to reconnect with or is just a threat that needs to be killed. (It feels worth noting that William is as far as I can remember the only person to call him Michael in the whole film. He also very pointedly never says "Schmidt" until he's decided to kill Mike and suddenly announces his full name out loud. If he went by Michael as a little kid, that is what William would default to calling him, but if he took the new husband's last name, that would be like like salt in the wound that he wouldn't want to voice. By finally saying it out loud, it feels like he's making the decision to fully separate himself from Mike.)
As for Vanessa, if Mike is her brother, it makes sense that he would be the person she'd turn against William to save. It would be weird for her not to tell him, but she could also be trying to protect him, in some way. There's never any mention of her mother, and it seems like it's just been her and William for a long time. Also, ending the movie with her in a coma feels like a strange narrative choice, but it makes sense if she knows information that's purposely being kept hidden for the sequel.
Of course, it could just be that the movie has kind of messy writing and I'm trying to fix it because I want there to be a deeper reason for it. Maybe there is no Michael Afton in the movies, or maybe he's off chilling and doing his own thing somewhere and we'll see him in the sequel. Only time will tell.
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jadeylovesmarvelxo · 2 months
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The Bet
Part one
Eddie is desperate to talk to you but will you ever be able to forgive and forget after learning your friendship was nothing more than a bet? Especially as you had fallen in love with him.
Do you still love him after all that anguish?
Part two.
Warnings: A lot of angst and you'll see..minors shoo! 18+
Don't copy, translate or repost my work.
❤️
A bet. That's all you'd ever been to Eddie, a bet to get one over on your now ex boyfriend, on Jason and the rest of the dark side as Eddie's friend had put it.
Had they spent this whole time laughing at you? Did Eddie get some kick out of stringing you along, stealing your heart piece by piece.
Was everything just a lie?
You had broken up with Bryan a week ago. Sick of his horrible nature and drawn to Eddie, head over heels for him. God you felt like such a fool.
The night you found out about the bet you cried yourself to sleep, walking to school on autopilot. Thank goodness for your friends because you struggled to get through the first day.
Mostly everyone was sympathetic but there was some people who sniggered when you walked past, whispered to their friends only it was so loud that you could hear.
I can't believe how gullible that idiot was
Imagine knowing the freak only got close to you for a bet
Serves that bitch and all the rest of Jason's idiots and the cheerleaders right for thinking they are so hot.
About time someone took them down a peg
Each thinly veiled barb cracked your already bleeding heart and you hurried to get away from the gossip.
It trickled out a couple days later, once the people had finished finding your pain hilarious, how anyone could find someone in pain to be funny was a mystery to you.
Whenever you saw Eddie you rushed away before he could speak to you, wouldn't look at his face because all you knew from him was lies.
Everything was a lie. He didn't love you, he never did. Your heart throbs with that realisation and you do your best to walk around school, head held up high and the heartbreak tucked up inside.
It was all an act but you were a great actor, you had to be to pretend like you weren't in agony on the inside.
...
It was the worst few weeks that Eddie could remember in a long long time, Dustin was disgusted with him and took a long time to talk to him.
His heart felt like it had been ripped in half and it was all his own fault, you wouldn't even look at him.
If he even attempted to try and speak to you it was to no avail.
The longest sentence you uttered was when he begged you to talk to him, even just one word.
All you said was ''goodbye Eddie" or that ''you didn't believe a word he said"
Steve picked you up from school with Robin every day, wouldn't even let Eddie go near you. Threatened to beat the shit out of him if he made you cry again.
He tried to speak to you again a few days later when Steve had eased up on guarding you, it was agonising weeks of you avoiding him.
You were coming out of cheer practice with Chrissy and another girl, Chrissy glared at him and the other girl looked like she wanted to kill him.
"Can we talk please, princess?'' he pleads and you ask your friends to give you a second and they do, very reluctantly still scowling at Eddie. He deserves that.
"I can't Eddie. I don't have anything to say to you" he swallows, his mind going a mile a minute, trying to think of what he can say to express how sorry he is.
''I messed up. I made a stupid mistake. The worst mistake, because I hurt you. I made a dumb bet to try and get back at assholes who bullied and made my friends and my life hell, it was mean and selfish and I wish I'd never done it" you listen to what he has to say and his heart aches when tears pool in your eyes.
"But you did do it, you couldn't even tell me the truth. You lied to me Eddie and all the time I was...I fell in love with you" he moves forward to cup your cheek, desperate for you to know that he loves you too.
"I love you, I fell in love with you and that's why I couldn't tell you. I couldn't lose you" you stare at him and don't speak for a few seconds, when you do the words split his heart in two.
"That's the thing, you lost me anyway" you walk away from him and he can't think of a single thing to say to stop you. Then he steels himself and runs to catch up with you.
"What Eddie?" you snap and he talks quickly, tripping over his words and anxious to get the words out.
"I hurt you badly, I fucked up and what I did was just fucking awful. I know that. I also know that I'm so in love with you, never thought I could feel this way for anyone but you snuck into my heart and it belongs only to you" you don't say anything but you don't rush away either, so Eddie says one more thing before you do decide to leave.
"I'll wait for you sweetheart, for however long it takes. I don't care how long I have to wait, you're worth every single second"
Tears pool in your eyes and you nod slightly. Ever so gently you squeeze his hand just a tiny bit then walk away, leaving Eddie determined as hell to win your trust again and maybe somewhere along the line your heart too.
💕
It took a while for you to even speak to Eddie for longer than five minutes, but he was nothing if not determined and patient, he's was not screwing this chance up.
At first, you didn't think Eddie was serious about waiting for you, but he was. Endlessly patient and sweet. Big brown eyes full of tenderness and joy when you spoke to him.
It was hard not to find him endearing, but he had hurt you badly and there was still a small part of you that held back, that was hesitant to get close, trying to protect your fragile heart that ached for you to give Eddie a chance.
It's Friday now and after an intense week of cheer practice, you can't wait to relax for the weekend.
Chrissy had been watching you looking at Eddie with longing, the exact same way Eddie looked at you for weeks now. To be honest it was beyond frustrating, the both of you loved one another, it was killing you both to be apart.
So that's why she was saying something to you today. More than anything she wanted you to be happy, if Eddie hurt you again just even a tiny bit then she would kick his ass.
That's before Steve go there first.
"Honey, what Eddie did was wrong and I'm mad as hell at him but anyone can see how sorry he is. He's so in love with you, maybe you could give him a second chance" Chrissy says to you as you sit down for lunch.
You rest your head on Chrissy's shoulder and let out a sigh. ''I want to, I want to so badly but I don't want to be heartbroken again''
Something tells Chrissy that Eddie wouldn't dare. That he would keep his promise to never hurt you so badly again.
She squeezes your hand reassuringly and it calms your anxiety down.
"Babe, he wouldn't dare. He's not stupid. Plus everyone might think I'm a sweetheart but I'll kick his ass if he did and Steve would too. Eddie won't lose you, not again"
The words play on your mind all day and when Eddie is hurrying to his truck at the end of Hellfire Club you pluck up your courage and go to speak to him.
"Eddie" the minute he sees you it's like his whole face lights up. A dimpled smile and brown eyes full of adoration greet you.
"Hey, sweetheart" longing fills the air, stifling you both and honestly you're pretty sick of it. So you take a leap, walk up to Eddie and take his hand.
"Would you mind if I asked you for a ride Eds?'' his hand tightens around yours and he grins, rushes to open the door to his truck and almost trips over his feet in the process. It's cute and you can't help but giggle.
He holds the door open for you. "Princess, your carriage awaits" you head inside.
The drive is short and sweet, Eddie once again being a gentleman as he opens the door for you to step out.
You thank him for the ride and before Eddie can head back into the truck, you kiss his cheek gently, then leave a sweet, chaste kiss on his lips.
The kiss leaves him looking dazed, he touches his cheek then his lips and there's that smile again, the one that melted your heart the first time you seen it.
"One more chance Eddie, if you hurt me again thats it. I mean it" he nods, his face serious as he takes in what you say.
"I swear you won't regret this princess, I love you and I'll spend every day proving that, do you... do you still love me?" he whimpers after a few seconds, his expression wide with worry and fear.
"I've never stopped" you answer back.
After your confession he practically does a little dance as he goes into his truck. Just before you open the door to your house, you hear his whoop of delight before he drives off.
The smile doesn't leave your face all night.
❤️
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poisonlove · 6 months
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Thoughtless sex | w.a
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Y/n is Tyler’s sister, a blood bond that was supposed to bring harmony, but the tumultuous past continues to cast a shadow over them. Wednesday doesn’t seem to care about this detail and ignoring her conscience decides to turn off her sexual desires with the girl Galpin
Will they manage this intricate web of feelings without disrupting their lives forever?
Warning: 18+
"Yes... continue" she said biting her lips hard. I clung more to her thighs and stuck my tongue in her privacy.
We were in the woods away from prying eyes.
"Shit!" Wednesday moans biting her lower lip, closing her eyes. I smiled and kissed her inner lips gently, releasing a stream of saliva that connects her to my mouth. With one hand, I made rotating movements around her clitoris, causing Addams' sighs to become heavier. My hand was completely covered with her fluids, I leaned over and left another kiss on the bundle of nerves.
I licked with my tongue the excitement I had on my lips. I put my lips back around her clitoris and stuck two fingers inside her.
With the corner of my eye I saw Wednesday’s knuckles turn completely white, squeezing the car seat in need
The moans echoed in the car.
The walls of Addams narrowed around my fingers and I realized it was coming.  Wednesday put her hands in my hair and put more pressure on her intimacy. I kept licking and penetrating.
Her back arches more.
" IF..." moans and arching fingers I found her G-spot. Mostly twin. -"Fuck!" exclaims.
Her hips moved more and I increased the rhythm of the lick. As I stopped penetrating her, I put my fingers in her mouth, sucking her nectar.
" Look at me" I exclaim with a small smile, ceasing to lick her delicious intimacy. With difficulty she put the weight on her arms and looked at me excitedly.
She was covered in sweat and her lower lip was caught between her teeth. I took her legs and invited her to rest on my shoulders, giving me more access to her privacy. Without looking away, I licked again and saw that Wednesday moved the weight on one arm, the other stretched it and put her hand between my hair. 
Wednesday moves her hips again.
Moaning.
"Fuck!. Yes.." whispers.
Her eyes turned white with excitement. She turned her attention back to me.
"Y/N" exclaims with difficulty.
" I’m.. to... " murmurs with difficulty and does not even finish pronouncing the phrase I feel her excitement pouring into my mouth.
I ate the excess.
Wednesday moves swiftly to fix her skirt, glancing at herself in the rearview mirror of the car.
I wipe my mouth, slightly incredulous at Wednesday's gesture, and sigh audibly.
"What's going on?" Addams mumbles weakly, looking at me with boredom.
"Do we always have to see each other in these circumstances?" I ask curiously, leaning against the seat.
"Between us, it's just sex," Wednesday frowns.
"I know... but do we always have to do it in this car? Maybe we could meet somewhere else, maybe in my room or yours," I murmur absentmindedly, biting my lower lip.
"Some things are off-limits, too many risks," Wednesday confesses venomously. "Plus, I don't want Enid to suspect," she adds coldly. "She hates the fact that you're Tyler's sister," she admits.
Tension in the car increases as Wednesday's words hang in the air.
Wednesday Addams' eyes are truly a wonder. They have a mysterious and seductive color, a deep and vibrant black hue that seems to capture the light fascinatingly. They are piercing eyes capable of expressing a wide range of emotions, from a seductive and provocative gaze to a cold and distant one. They are the eyes of a woman who knows how to use her charm to her advantage and who hides intriguing secrets.
I visibly get angry.
"I know Tyler was horrible to you, but I'm not like him... I'm genuinely interested in you, Wed," I murmur with a hurt tone, reaching out to her.
Wednesday moves away quickly.
"I don't want to be seen in public with someone like you," she confesses, looking at me defiantly.
I nervously smile and simply shake my head.
"Fine, I don't want to be seen with a shallow and unpleasant girl," I admit, and Wednesday looks at me seriously.
"Between us, it's over," I confess seriously.
"Well, then we're done, useless," she looks at me defiantly. Wednesday swallows and gets out of my car.
"To leave and to end are the same thing," I shout as I watch Wednesday walk towards her rooms.
Anger and disappointment overwhelm me as I drive away from the scene, making it clear that this story has come to an end.
"No more casual sex," I whisper to the air as I start my car.
(...)
The morning sun painted the sky with golden hues as Yoko and I walked through Nevermore's ancient gate, heading to our next class at the academy. The leaves of the trees, now dressed in autumn colors, danced lightly in the air.
"So, Y/n... what class do we have now?" Yoko yawned and adjusted her sunglasses.
"We have art history," I replied, smiling, flipping through the schedule. "It will be interesting."
Yoko stretched and nodded, ready to face the next part of the academic day. As we headed towards the classroom, the campus buzzed with student energy.
"And tell me..." Yoko murmured with a hint of curiosity. "Why didn't you tell me you're with someone?" she asked, playfully revealing her fangs.
"W-What?" I stammered, panicking and shaking my head. "Y/n, if you want to keep it a secret that you're with someone, at least cover the hickies," she said mischievously, and my cheeks turned red.
I spotted Wednesday in the distance, walking carefree with Enid. I felt sad and neglected, as if my role in her life had become invisible. It was as if a piece of my heart shattered seeing that my presence didn't seem to matter to her anymore. I wanted to call out to her, to make her notice me, but something held me back, leaving me with an emptiness and a sadness that tightened my chest.
"Hey," Yoko called, snapping her fingers and catching my attention.
She gave me a shy smile and hugged me, wrapping an arm around my neck as we walked together.
"I was distracted... sorry," I said with sadness, trying to hide my unease behind a forced smile. "Let's go," I continued, forcing a happier expression.
Addams gave me a quick glance, a flash of interest or perhaps something more complex, before walking decisively towards the building entrance.
I felt increasingly involved in this intricate situation, as if I were trapped in a web of complicated relationships. The sadness continued to burn inside me, but I tried to focus on the present moment, trying to overcome this discomfort that undermined my confidence.
Walking beside Yoko, I took a deep breath and prepared to face the day.
"Hey, sorry..." Yoko bit her lower lip slightly, visibly concerned. "I just remembered I have to meet Bianca," she confessed quickly.
I sighed, realizing that the situation forced me to separate from her, even if only for a while. Yoko gave me a apologetic smile and a kiss on the cheek before heading towards Bianca, the queen of this school.
I watched her go, feeling a mix of loneliness and determination.
I put on my headphones, trying to isolate myself from the surrounding world as I climbed the stairs. I had to cross the deserted and abandoned corridor. My heart was racing, the tension in the air palpable.
Suddenly, two hands grabbed my collar with firmness, pulling me abruptly into the rarely frequented bathrooms. A shiver ran down my spine, and my eyes met Wednesday's black irises. Her gaze seemed penetrating, dark, and enigmatic.
I stood still, caught between fear and curiosity.
Wednesday's hands firmly grabbed my pants' belt, making me tense, as she approached my neck with determination. I looked confused, unable to understand what was happening.
"What are you doing?" I asked uncertainly, trying to ignore the confusion that overwhelmed me.
Wednesday looked at me seriously, without answering, before leaning further and pressing her cold lips against mine. A shiver ran down my spine, and for a moment, instinct made me respond to the kiss.
But reason prevailed.
I finally found the strength to break that kiss, my heart beating fast, and my breath short.
"We're done, Wednesday," I managed to say decisively, trying to convey my feelings.
But she held my neck firmly, pushing me again towards her for a needy kiss.
"I don't like to fight, okay?  Can we keep fucking" she whispered calmly, her hands still around my neck.
I was astonished, my mouth opened to say something but remained speechless. Wednesday swiftly moved to my neck, starting to leave sloppy kisses on it.
I felt trapped in a whirlwind of conflicting emotions, desire conflicting with confusion and the need to express what I really wanted.
I timidly returned the kiss, still confused but drawn to that intense energy. Wednesday genuinely smiled against my lips, a smile that seemed to carry a strange mix of pleasure and torment.
My heart was beating fast.
The bathroom door swung open with a dull noise, and in a panic, I turned my eyes towards the person responsible.
Wednesday still had her hands around my neck, her obvious state revealing what we were doing. Addams stood there, breathing heavily, her braids unkempt.
"But what the fuck..." Enid exclaimed, her mouth wide open in disbelief.
A sense of embarrassment and dismay overwhelmed me. I felt as if I had been caught in something forbidden and shameful. The words seemed to get stuck in my throat as I tried to find explanations that eluded me.
Everything plummeted in an instant. The consequences of this situation will be unavoidable.
Damn.
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neuvistar · 4 months
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JUST FRIENDS? YEAH.. JUST FRENDS.
— featuring ┊ jing yuan x flreader × wriothesley (separate)
— warnings / content warnings ┊ not proofread. all consensual! desk s3x (jing yuan), blowie (wrio), implied friends w benefits, semi-public s3x, jing yuan's a lil mean, hair pulling (jing yuan), overall suggestive content. 18+ MINORS DO NOT INTERACT.
— a/n ┊ WOOOO finally wrote sumn, i'm SOO late on asks it's acc kinda sad i'm so sorry guys work has been eating my ass for the past few days weeks months i'm so tired bye but NEVER BACK DOWN NEVER WHAT??
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𝐉𝐈𝐍𝐆 𝐘𝐔𝐀𝐍
"c’mere, on my lap."
your relationship with jing yuan.. was quite an interesting one. on occasional days, you both would consider each other as close acquaintances! while on most days, you both would consider each other as friends with benefits. you never really had a problem with this kind of relationship you both shared and hid away from the rest of the world, it was just your thing with him.
so, it was no problem to you when jing yuan called you to his office to help "him" for tonight.
even though you were mostly the person going to him for pleasure, he was the one using you for pleasure. you couldn't help but feel that aching pain in your heart whenever you thought about what he always says about only using you as a mere object to pleasure himself. you would be lying if you said you weren't being a hypocrite because you felt exactly the same, but it still hurts and you don't understand why it does. no matter how hard you try to distance yourself from him so those thoughts wouldn't sink in, you couldn't. they always came back to delve you deeper into the depths of the sea, like it was hard to swim back up. you didn't know why the thought of you only being a mere fuck toy to him upset you.
soft yet pained yelps left your lips as his cock rubbed against your slit, slowly but steadily. the general put a hand to your mouth, shushing you and keeping you quiet as a low chuckle left his lips. "you're already whining and moaning on my cock, do you like it that much? i haven't even put it in yet." he cooed in your ear, that voice.. you hated that tone he used against you, that tone was enough to make your whole body weak. he knew the kind of affect he had on you, and he abused the hell out of it. that stupid voice.. you can't tell whether you want to kiss him or punch him.
"just put it in then." your legs gave in on you as you kept yourself comfortable overtop his desk, keeping your fingers near the ends.
“whatever you say, sweetheart.” despite this, jing yuan was always just as needy as you are. the general pushed your head against the hardness of his desk, his free hand on your hip as his cock bullied itself inside your walls, he was so much bigger than you.. it was a miracle that you could even take it all.
"fuck.. just fuck me, jing yuan. fuck me like you mean it!" jing yuan's lips curved into a smirk, a snicker slipping from his lips.
"someone's greedy tonight." he picked up the pace, skin slapping against one another harsher and harsher. "j-just like you every time we fuck. you can't talk."
"yeah? atleast i'm not begging for it. s' okay to admit it, pretty.
“i know love you my cock, that's why you come to my office so you could get fucked into oblivion, like the naughty girl you really are you moaned at his words, orgasm built up quickly inside you as you came all over his cock. “—and that's another way to show how much of a slut you are for my dick. i think that might just be our new record, dovey" you squirmed in his touch, mouth slightly hung agape as you squeezed your grip around the ends of the desk, eyes fluttering open when two pairs of hands squeezed your hips, jing yuan's thrusts showed no signs of stopping. "it'd be such a shame if someone walked in right now and saw how much of a slut you are for the general's cock. i think your reputation would hit rock bottom, wouldn't you think?"
the desk creaked lightly beneath your warm body, your eyes rolling to the back of your head. “just imagine how everyone would react if they saw you like this, in this state. i'd love to see the look on their faces.. mm.. it'd be such a shame, wouldn't it? moan louder for me, let me hear you. let everyone hear just how well i fuck you." jing yuan's fingers interlaced with your own, his heavy breaths increasing as his chest heaved, burying his face in your shoulder, clenching his teeth when your walls squeezed around him.
"fuck." he leaned down,"you're nothing more than a stress reliever for me.. this pretty pussy, is mine. mine to cum into, mine to fuck, and mine alone. understand?"
you guys were just friends. just friends? yeah. just friends.
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𝐖𝐑𝐈𝐎𝐓𝐇𝐄𝐒𝐋𝐄𝐘
you couldn't count just how many times you and wriothesley had almost been caught for your shenanigans, it was risky having to fuck in his office. the fortress, and the people within were always on the move. it was hard to even get into his damn office thanks to all the visitors he always has, asking him stupid questions or speak about some stupid unrelated topic. wriothesley is a close friend of yours, you can't deny that.. but you also can't deny just how good he can use his dick.
the fortress was busy one day, all hands were on deck as almost everyone was on the move. this was odd, but you knew it must've been wriothesley's doings. you both took the risk at last as you were beneath his desk, kneeling down as your cheek was pressed up against his thigh, lazily stroking his hardened cock. "you seem stressed. how has your day been?" your voice brought butterflies to his stomach, he always loved hearing it.. just like how he loved hearing your moans he was gonna bring out of you tonight, "nothing much, i just missed you." his large hand caressed your cheek, a small smile painted on his lips. before you knew it, he already had two hands on your head.. rubbing the tip of his cock right against your mouth.
slapping his dick against your tongue, your mouth engulfed him whole. wriothesley's moans in bed were unmatched you say, they were like the call to celestia. your tongue was warm against his shaft, staring up at him with that same sweet look on your eyes. wriothesley's breath catches in his throat when he moans your name. he pressed himself closer into you, your lips gently caressing his skin as each suck if his dick was as soft as a butterfly's wings, yet the passion behind them is overwhelming.. overwhelming him with pleasure all over. he used his two hands to thrust himself against your lips.
"fuck yeah, open that pretty mouth even wider for me. i missed your mouth.. i missed you. i missed you so damn much, baby." wriothesley's stare was enough to hypnotize anyone, the glow of affection filling his eyes as he watches his cock go in and out of your mouth. your lips move against him, savoring the taste and touch of his cock as if it were a sweet treat. the male's fingers ran through your hair in a soft motion, thrusting himself deep into your mouth.. fucking your mouth with a sense of urgency and desperation in his hips. a small chuckle came from his throat as he watched small tears trickle down your cheeks, the intensity of the moment you were both sharing immediately paused when he heard someone banging on his door. "sir! you got a new package!—“ wriothesley didn't bother answering, groaning at the warmth of your mouth.. he could feel himself getting closer and closer.. just a bit more!—
the same worker barged into the room. wriothesley quickly fixed his position as he played it off like he was looking through his drawers, his eyes travelling up to his sudden visitor. "oh sorry, i'm in a hurry so, what do you need?" your mouth was still attached to his cock as you grumbled against it, clearly he wasn't secure enough. but... well! it's not bad to tease him a little now, is it? your tongue began to swirl against his member sucking him harder than before, making sure he heard even the quietest slurping sounds.. almost forcing a sudden moan from his lips. "—yes.. i see. just put the package there and leave."
oh.. you were definitely gonna get it that day.
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