#you thought no one would possibly notice you changing a few words of a 19 year old article to be about a congressman and his wife

[yeoldenews]

I am now determined to find a way to use "ice cream freezer" as an insult again.

(source: The Troy Messenger, July 13, 1882.)

#'twinkle a couple of twinks' is also A+ #history #1880s #victorian #royalty #romance #vICtorIaNs wEre aLL pRUdEs (mocking spongebob meme) #also to the reporter who plagiarized this article almost word for word in the Davenport Republican in 1901 #you thought you got away with it didn't you #you thought no one would possibly notice you changing a few words of a 19 year old article to be about a congressman and his wife #well I noticed #and I'm calling you out

[girlgenius1111]

don't tell Leah

barca femeni x platonic reader :)

based on a request that i changed a little

r has a panic attack at practice, and her teammates help her out. lioness!reader + alexia, lucy, and keira

Playing for Barcelona was a dream, by anyone's standards, and you knew it. You had the opportunity to play with the best in the world, doing the thing you loved more than anything.

This didn't mean that you weren't insanely nervous, though. You'd always been someone who struggled with nerves, but they had noticeably intensified in the past few months. Moving from England to Spain at only 19 would be a lot for anyone, and you noticed it take a toll on your stress levels.

The season was about to start, and you were staring down your first match in the famous blaugrana uniform. Everyone at the club had been nice and supportive since you'd arrived, going out of their way to make you feel comfortable. They teased you for being young, but they always made sure you alright. Lucy and Keira especially, knowing you from the national team where you had also made a young debut, kept a close eye on you.

So, when Jona gathered everyone at the last practice before the first game and announced the starting lineup, everyone cheered and high fived you when he said you'd be starting. You were shouldn't have been surprised; you'd been training well, and the team had several injuries keeping people out. Still, you felt the color drain from your face at his words, but you tried hard to keep cool. You didn't want anyone to think you couldn't handle it. Jona sent everyone off to start their gym session, and you distractedly made your way to weights.

Your brain was working in overdrive, every possible way this could go wrong flying around in your head. You were walking slowly, when a hand on your shoulder startled you out of your thoughts. You turned to find Alexia looking at you with a concerned expression on her face.

"Are you okay, chica?" she asked.

"Yeah, yeah I'm good," you responded, forcing a smile onto your face. Alexia nodded, but didn't look so sure as you turned away from her and kept walking.

Alexia had surprised you with how kind she was; she seemed so intimidating, so serious, at a distance, but she was a very sweet person once you got to know her, and she took her job as captain very seriously, meaning she always took time to get to know new players. You weren't acting quite right, and she noticed.

You walked to your station of the circuit that had been set out, back to being completely distracted. You didn't notice as Ingrid came to stand next to you, your partner for the workout. You were losing your grip, and fast.

What if you messed up? What if you got an own goal? What if you got hurt? What if you hurt someone else? What if you got a yellow card? Or a red card? What if you played so horribly, everyone would realize what a mistake it had been to sign you?

Your breath was speeding up, and you felt disconnected from the world around you, as if nothing was real.

"Y/n?" Ingrid called quietly, noticing that although you hadn't yet touched the weights in front of you, you were breathing hard and fast, like you'd just run a couple sprints.

"Need a sec," you managed to gasp out, slipping out the door and walking quickly to the locker room. Ingrid looked around, noticing that no one had really noticed your departure, except for Alexia, who was had been watching the whole thing. Alexia walked over to Ingrid, a questioning look on her face.

"What happened?"

"I'm not really sure. She seemed distracted, and she was breathing really hard even though we hadn't started yet, and then she just took off." Ingrid replied, looking at the door through which you'd disappeared. Alexia tilted her head towards the door, and Ingrid nodded. Without saying anything else, they exited the room quietly, making their way down the hall the the locker room.

As they got closer, they could hear your gasps for breath, and they sped up. They entered to find you hunched in a little ball at the foot of your locker, head tucked tightly against your knees. It was clear to both girls what was going on.

Alexia turned to Ingrid, speaking quietly. "Go get Lucy or Keira, fast."

Ingrid nodded, turning on her heel and retreating back the way she came. Alexia remained, approaching you slowly.

"Hey, y/n, can you hear me, cariño?" She asked comfortingly. And you nodded your head jerkily against your knees. Alexia sat down next to you, leaving a little space in between you both.

"That's good. Are you having a hard time breathing?" she asked, even though it was evident that you were. Again, you nodded.

"Okay, that's okay. Ingrid's getting Lucy or Keira. Is there anything I can do?" She asked, unable to sit next to you in such distress and do nothing. You didn't respond immediately, thinking it over in your head. It sounded like she really wanted to help. So, you extracted your hand from where it was wrapped around your leg, and shakily extended it toward's Alexia.

Alexia gripped your hand tight in hers, running her thumb along the back in circles, hoping to bring you some comfort. You held onto her like a lifeline, whole body trembling as you fought to bring enough air into your lungs. You heard a pair of footsteps approaching, and soon, someone was setting a hand on your back.

"Y/n? You with me, buddy?" Lucy asked, sitting down on your other side. "We've gotta take those deep breaths, remember? Can you try with me?" Without waiting for a response, she was tugging your other arm away from you, and placing it over her chest. "With me, okay?"

You felt the steady rise and fall of her chest under your hand, and you tried to match it, you really did. It wasn't working though, and as Lucy's attempts to help you failed, you only grew more panicked. Lucy shushed you softly before speaking.

"Don't freak out, you're okay. Do you need your inhaler?" Lucy questioned, and you nodded frantically, but remembered it wasn't in your bag. Keira had made you give her an extra, though, and you tried to tell Lucy all of this in between gasps.

"Kei- has one- in her bag-" You stuttered. And you felt Alexia's hand leave your grasp as she presumably moved across the room to get the inhaler.

It wasn't something you needed often, only when you were really anxious, had a really bad panic attack. It had happened once at an England camp, and you'd forgotten your inhaler at home, which Leah was not happy about, at all. Since then, she'd carried an extra, and she'd made sure to tell Keira and Lucy not to let you anywhere without one, even though you'd only used it a cumulative three times in the past three years.

Alexia returned quickly, handing the inhaler to Lucy, who uncapped and shook it. Alexia resumed her place by your side, hand finding yours again. You clung tightly to her, as Lucy tried to get you to lift your head off your knees.

"Come on, buddy, help me out here a little," she stated, though not unkindly, nudging your exposed cheek with her hand. You lifted your head slightly, and her hand came up to grab your chin, tilting it up. Your eyes met hers, and she hated how scared you looked.

"Open... deep breath in... hold... okay, breathe out," Lucy said, talking you through the very practiced routine. She took you through the process twice more, and you could feel your lungs relaxing. With every breath, you drew in more air, until you didn't feel like you were minutes away from dying anymore.

You leaned your head back against the locker, shutting your eyes tightly as you felt your heart rate slow back down. Lucy waited a minute before speaking.

"What happened?" She asked, knowing you didn't have panic attacks for no reason.

"I'm starting tomorrow," you whispered, "just kind of freaked out."

Both girls nodded in understanding.

"Does this happen a lot?" Alexia asked, your hand still in hers.

"No," you replied, pausing. "A little more often since I moved, but still not all the time."

Alexia looked at you for a minute. "You tell us if it gets worse, yes?"

"Promise," you replied, bringing your head back down to send her a reassuring smile. Lucy was silent next to you, and you could feel the disapproval radiating off of her. Just as you were about to call her on it, you heard the sound of fast footsteps in the hall, and Keira was racing into the room. She looked surprised to see you calm.

"What- Ingrid said you were- and that-" She spluttered, looking between the three of you.

"I'm good, Kei," you started, but were interrupted by a scoff from Lucy. You looked at her, annoyed, while Alexia turned to her, confused.

"You wouldn't have been fine if Keira didn't have one of your inhalers," Lucy said, frustrated.

"You didn't bring your inhaler, y/n!" Keira scolded, and you rolled your eyes.

"I got a new bag and forgot to move it over. It's not a big deal."

"It would have been a big deal if you had suffocated." Lucy mumbled.

"I wouldn't have suffocated! At the most, I would have passed out, woken up, and been fine." You replied, embarrassed that they were being this stern in front of Alexia.

"I'm still telling Leah," Keira said, uncharacteristically serious.

"Don't you dare, she'll kill me!" You said, not really believing that Keira would tell your captain.

Keira opened her mouth to respond, but Alexia interrupted her. She looked amused at the three of you, but her tone still rang with authority, like it did when she wanted to be taken seriously.

"Do you have another extra?" Alexia asked. You nodded. "I want one for my bag. Just in case," she said, and you groaned. Keira and Lucy grinned triumphantly, and Alexia's lips lifted into a smile too.

You thought you'd escaped the overprotectiveness when you'd left England, but apparently it was still thriving here. Or maybe, this was just how the team operated; always looking out for each other.

-----

let me know if you want to see more of young reader and the team :)

#woso #woso imagine #woso x reader #barcelona femeni x reader #alexia putellas #barca femeni #ingrid engen #lucy bronze #keira walsh

[lokisprettygirl]

Build me Up, Break me Down (Loki x Female Reader)

Read chapter 19 here // Series Masterlist

Chapter 20

Summary : Your happiness is broken and insecurities fills your heart when a man from your past appears at the restaurant.

Warning : Some smut, mentions of past abuse and prostitution

You woke up next morning when your alarm rang and as soon as you opened your eyes you saw his sleeping form. He looked so peaceful and calm like this, you pressed several kisses on his forehead and tried to wiggle out of his embrace, you just wished you could stay here all day and didn't have to work but it wasn't possible. He woke up as he felt you shifting 

"Where are you going?" His groggy deep voice made you shiver, 

"I have to work, good morning" you placed your head down on his chest, maybe you could lay here for few minutes

"Mmm it is a good morning" you smiled as he said that, he flipped you under him and placed his head between the crook of your neck then you felt his lips kissing the skin so gently 

"I wish I didn't have to go" you mumbled and he found your soft sweet voice really endearing first thing in the morning

"I wish that too princess" you smiled as he addressed you like that. So it is going to be a regular petname now.

"I like it when you call me that" 

"Princess?" You nodded as he said that 

"Because you're a prince" 

He kissed your forehead then he picked you up so you both could shower. He would take care of you if you would want him to, financially and otherwise he just didn't know if that's what you wanted, besides he wanted you to have a life of your own in case he's not there in future. The thought hurt him as soon as he imagined it, he never wanted you to be alone again, he had a feeling there were so many things he didn't know about your past, where is your family? You never mention them nor do you talk about them. 

Once you got ready, he grabbed your hand and you both walked towards the restaurant. 

He was standing outside the restaurant with you when Charlotte walked towards you two 

"Hi y/n" she grinned as she looked at him

"Loki, this is Charlotte, we work the same shift" she placed her hand out and he grabbed her fingers to shake it and then he let go instantly

"You don't have to Introduce me girl, I'll see you inside.. good to see you Loki" he smiled as she left. 

"Sorry about that, she is kind of obsessed with you but not in a bad way" he chuckled as you said that 

"Well I wonder if her friend is obsessed with me or not" your face flushed at the remark, you're the friend, he grabbed your hands in his and his thumb rubbed against your fingers, that was his thing apparently. He showed affection physically. He used gentle touches to show that he cared,

"Her friend is only obsessed with one man and he's a god"

"You do that on purpose don't you?" 

"Maybe" you giggled and he knew he had to leave before the urge to suffocate you in his embrace would grow

"I'll pick you up okay?" You nodded as he said that but you didn't want to trouble him

"If you get busy that would be okay, just text me so I know you're safe" 

"I would darling, will you take care of yourself?" He cupped your cheeks and pecked on your lips, then he kissed your forehead 

"I will" You pecked his cheeks one by one and then you went inside. You turned around to look at him and he felt that hole in his heart, that void that only you're able to fill, the thought scared him again.

As soon as you got in the employees room, Charlotte walked towards you, she was a pretty girl herself, after college she wanted to go to LA and try acting 

"Girl girl girl, you're dating him aren't you, please don't lie to me because those eyes damn.. he looks at you like that and you're still alive?" you smiled as her words made you feel so warm, he looks at you a certain way that other people are able to notice?

"It's a long story, I wasn't lying to you, I just didn't know what we were two days ago" you changed into the dress and you both started your shift

"Does he have a hot brother?" 

"Yes Thor?" 

"Oh my godddddddd" 

You smiled at her reaction. Your day was fairly boring, you checked your phone and you had a message from Loki. Your heart fluttered as you opened it and responded. He was so cute with technology. He responded to you again

You put the phone aside before you'd hear something from your manager.

Loki returned back to the tower after dropping you at work, he wanted to test the text technology so he could use it properly if he needed it. When he saw the heart you sent him, he knew he'd have to ask you to teach him. Thor was waiting for him and as soon as he spotted Loki, he was onto him

"Are you going to tell me where you were?" 

"I spent the night with her" Loki told him nonchalantly 

"Lady Penny?" Loki looked at him as he realized that Thor still doesn't know about the seperation

"No not her, I ended it" 

"So someone else?" Thor crossed his arms as he questioned him

"Yes" 

"Lokiiii"

"What?" 

"I don't know why I thought you cared about lady y/n, maybe I assumed wrongly but ..Natasha told me that she was so hurt when she left, do you not miss her? " Thor looked at him with such concerned eyes, he had a feeling you'd humble his brother down a little, he needed to stay grounded and you could have given him that. He saw the way Loki would have even killed for you but then Penny came along and everything worsened.

"I miss her brother, truly and desperately" Loki smiled as he walked away, that's when Thor realized that he was meeting nobody else but you and he breathed a sigh of relief. 

You were going on about your day and there was a customer on table 5, you could only see his head from behind so you walked over to him, looking at the time. It was still morning, just past 11 

"Good morning sir, welcome to cherry's" you placed the menu down, you had a smile on your face, it was only when you looked up is when all the colors from your face drained 

"They hire whores as waitresses now?" He asked you and you fidgeted on your spot as your eyes teared up. It was one of the guys who you serviced when you lived on the streets 

"Do you want me to send someone else?" You asked him and he looked at you up and down, he licked his lips and you just wanted to hide.

"For my food, yes. But I am still looking for a whore for a party tonight, are you available?" your heart sank as he asked you that so casually.

"I don't do that job anymore" your lips quivered but you tried to stay strong, you didn't want to create a scene and make this worse

"Oh you don't? Where is your pimp Marcus? I'll talk to him and he will set you straight"

You didn't say anything in response, what were you supposed to say? You can't take back or change that phase of your life 

"I'll send someone else" you were about to leave but then he spoke again

"I saw you on tv. You're wasting your time here baby, go back to what you're good at, no self respecting man would want you after you have whored yourself out to several men, here take this and call me, I'll pay you hefty" he shoved a card in the pocket you had on your apron. You stepped away from him and went to the employee room, you found Charlotte there so you requested her to go to table no 5 

"Are you okay, you look sick" she asked you and you nodded

"I just need a few minutes, I'm feeling nauseous" she looked at you concerned but she had to go out immediately to take your place. 

You went inside the bathroom and sat down on the toilet seat, your breathing got erratic and you felt as if the world would crash around you. 

No self respecting would want you. He was right, you're damaged and you don't even know why Loki was with you when he could get anyone? When he could get a girl like Penny. Does he pity you? He must, he feels bad for you and that's the only reason why he would ever want to be with you. You couldn't go out and face that man again, you didn't even know his name but he fucked you and he knew who you were. You'd always be that whore for men like him, that's how they'll always look at you. You came out of the stall and looked at your face, a flashback of bad memories haunted you. 

You wiped your tears and fixed your face, then you stepped out. 

......

Loki missed you, alot, he was smiling whenever he thought about you. He headed to the training room, they wanted to see his technique in hand to hand combat. 

Steve glared at him as his eyes met with Loki so Loki walked towards him

"I don't know what was happening between you and y/n but-"  before he could say anything else Steve cut him off

"Nothing, never had a chance, that girl worships you Loki, don't break her again" Loki's jaw clenched as he heard that. 

"Let's fight captain" 

Steve and Loki went neck to neck with each other, he didn't know where the aggression was coming from but it was probably the taunt he just heard and then he imagined you on top of him kissing him in the living room. After training he showered and looked at the time, it was 3 pm, you'd get free in an hour, so he texted you but you didn't respond. Must be busy.

Around 3:30 he asked for a car and a chauffeur, teleporting was quick but very taxing on him. When he reached the restaurant, he stood outside and waited for you, he smiled as he looked at you, you smiled too but it didn't reach your eyes. Why was he with you? You kept wondering,

"You got a car" you mumbled and he looked behind 

"Are you impressed?" he chuckled

"Very impressed" 

He opened the door for you and you sat inside, 

"Are you alright darling?" He asked you as he linked his fingers with yours 

"Yes I am, I'm alright" 

You were not alright but you didn't want to burden him with your problems, besides what would you even tell him? That a man asked for your services? Why? Because you used to be a whore? 

"Did you have a good day?" You asked him and he shrugged 

"I sparred with Steve" you looked at him as he said that 

"How was it?" You both reached the hotel, so he stepped out and opened the door for you, you didn't deserve that. You didn't deserve a prince, a god opening the door for you. 

"It was fine" he looked at you and you seemed lost again. Did he do something? When you both reached the room you invited him in and decided to take a shower, he laid down on the bed while you were in the bathroom. He was trying to take things slow with you but it was hard for him to stay around you and not touch you. When you came out you ordered dinner in the room itself. Then you laid down on the bed next to him, he was laying on his back so you turned sideways and placed your head between his head and neck. His sweet scent instantly calmed you down, you ran your fingers over the other side of his neck, just caressing him softly with your nails. Then you got on top of him slowly pressing kisses on his neck, 

"Darling if you keep doing that I would lose all my patience" he whispered as his hands wrapped around your waist

"It's okay you can" you cupped his cheeks and kissed him, then he flipped you underneath him, he wanted to take it slow but you seemed eager to have him inside you, it's been a long time. You unbuttoned his pants, taking his cock out and stroked him slowly with your hand,

"Can I please you with my mouth?" You asked him and he shook his head, he hasn't done that since he found out about your past. He pitied you and felt bad for you, if he didn't he'd treat you like he used to, he took your pants off and you moaned as he rubbed the tip of his cock over your lips. He fucked you tenderly, he was being gentle and you loved it but it also affirmed your belief that he was walking on eggshells around you. As he came inside you, he moaned your name and held you so close to him, looking for a sign of discomfort. 

His phone rang and he groaned as he heard the sound. He took care of you and then he called back Thor, they had to leave for an urgent mission and they needed him

"Darling I have to leave unfortunately" he clicked his fingers and he was in his Asgardian armor, looking like a prince, you felt so unworthy of even being in his presence 

"Please be careful and let me know when you reach back safely " your eyes teared up so he cupped your cheeks. He didn't want to leave you right after fucking you but he had to

"Can I come back here after I'm done?" He asked you and you nodded.

"Is everything alright with you?" He asked you again and you nodded 

"I'm just worried about you, please be safe" he kissed your forehead as you said that, he wished he could just take you with him everywhere but it wouldn't be safe and he didn't want to put you in danger by associating himself with you publically,   

As he left you finally allowed yourself to cry, you still had the slip that guy gave you, it was a reminder of your past and something like that would always stick with you. There would always be a man somewhere who would recognise you as that whore from the streets. What if it happens somewhere in front of Loki? He didn't deserve to be subjected to such humiliation. He was a god, a royal prince, an avenger now, he deserved a princess who posed the same elegance and was virtuous, a woman so regal people wouldn't question him when he's walking with her. He deserved all that and more.

What he didn't deserve was you. 

💚❤️💚❤️💚❤️💚❤️💚❤️💚❤️💚❤️

Taglist @michelleleewise  @el-zef   @mcufan72   @xorpsbane   @christineblood   @asgardianprincess1050   @123forgottherest   @ladymischief11   @elenaysusneuras   @daddylokisqueen   @xpixiedevilx   @dopeqff   @lokischambermaid   @unabashed-lover-of-fictional-men   @evansabove1981  @lokisgoddessofwar  @disneyismyworldforever  @multifandom-world8  @snigdha-14 @nixymarvelkins @froggiecky @multifandom-boss-bitch @keegansakura @accio-peach @catalina712 @lokiprompts @chaotics17 @yourmajesty13 @k-writer17 @buckybarnesandmarvel

#loki #loki x female reader #loki x reader smut #loki x reader fluff #loki x reader insert #loki x reader #loki x reader fic #loki x you

[little-tyrant-gortash]

Oathbreaker

Pairing: fem!Tav x Enver Gortash, fem!Tav/Astarion

Tags: Emotional Manipulation, Manipulation, Manipulative Relationship, Paladin Tav (Baldur's Gate), Vaginal Sex, Penis In Vagina Sex, Drunk Sex, Unrequited Love, Implied/Referenced Abuse, Scars, Blood and Injury, Injury, Implied/Referenced Rape/Non-con, Pregnancy, Unplanned Pregnancy, Miscarriage, Torture, Psychological Torture, Implied/Referenced Torture

Word count: 2,325

Ao3 here.

Chapter 1.

Chapter 2.

Chapter 3.

Chapter 4.

Chapter 5.

Chapter 6.

Chapter 7.

Chapter 8.

Chapter 9.

Chapter 10.

Chapter 11.

Chapter 12.

Chapter 13.

Chapter 14.

Chapter 15.

Chapter 16.

Chapter 17.

Chapter 18.

Chapter 19.

Chapter 20.

Chapter 21.

Chapter 22.

Chapter 23.

Chapter 24.

Chapter 25.

Chapter 26.

Chapter 27.

Chapter 28.

Chapter 29.

Chapter 30.

Chapter 31.

Chapter 32. ⬇

Chapter 33.

Chapter 32: His Glimmer of Hope

After a healing potion or two, the entire ordeal was finished. They went back to camp – even Astarion, who didn't look like he wanted to say his goodbyes, but at the moment, they did not mind his company. After all, he was helpful, and she saved Tav's life, in the end.

Tav was aware that sooner or later Gortash must've realised that she was lying about how she wanted to spend her day. She was also aware that he'd send as many soldiers as possible to find her faster. Which was why she wanted to get back to Wyrm's Rock Fortress as soon as she could. Alas, as soon as they arrived, she had to get her armour off and lie down to rest.

Perhaps she was lucky, and he didn't notice that she was gone at all.

She couldn't be further away from the truth.

It only took him about an hour to get back to his chambers to check up on her between two meetings. And when he couldn't find her, he spiraled into a thought process that did not want to stop. It just went on and on and on without a pause; worse and worse case scenarios flashing and popping up in his mind, rendering him utterly useless when it came to focus that morning. He decided to postpone whatever plans he had until she returned.

But then… will she return? The doubt was agonizing.Would she come back to him? Did he completely screw it up – but when, how and why?! It did not make sense at all.

As he retreated in his underground office where he had the slate which he used to see what was happening around her, he learned quite quickly that those who were spying on another would burn themselves. Because the first thing he saw was Astarion's smug face, and at that sight, rage started to bubble in the pit of Gortash's gut immediately. Did she leave just to spend time with her previous partner? Really?!

"Lying to the love of your life? Naughty, naughty girl."

Gortash tilted his head and frowned. What was he talking about?

"I have my reasons. I don't expect you to understand."

"I know of your reasons", Astarion purred with a smile that made Gortash clench his hand into a fist, making the golden claws dig deep into his palm. "I know you very well. More than you'd like to admit to any of us."

"Bah, you're all words as always!"

"Do you think your scent hasn't changed? And do you think I can't hear that there are-"

"Astarion!"

"-three heartbeats beating in your body?"

Gortash had to put the slate down. The pictures and the voices ceased immediately, and he had to stare up at the empty wall in front of him to detach himself from his emotions. It took him a remarkable few minutes to regain his composure. Even one child was a frightening thought, but two? Of course, Astarion could've lied, but what if he said the truth? He couldn't help it, though, he had to know more, so he picked up the slate, muttered the spell again, and continued to listen.

"Does Gortash at least know about", Karlach motioned at Tav's lower stomach, "this?"

"Of course he does."

"And you sneaked off to fight a shape shifter without telling him?!"

"It's better for all of us if he doesn't know, okay?! We've established already that only we can get rid of her, so why would it be good for him to spend the entire day in stress?! He has enough to worry about. I didn't want to add to it. It's better for both of us this way."

Now anger started to rise in his chest, unstoppable, as a dragon; spitting fire and venom in it's rage. Was it better for both of them, really? That he didn't know about her doing something like this, that she went down there, without him knowing?! He could've sent Fists with her to aid her in her fight. He could've went with her himself! After all, he honoured his alliance with Orin for as long as it suited him, and if she threatened Tav, he had no reason to honour it anymore. They belonged together; whoever threatened her, threatened him, and he'd retaliate that.

"And what about Orpheus?" Lae'zel asked quietly.

Orpheus? Gortash furrowed his brows. He could recall the story, and it was curious that Tav was involved even in that.

"We'll free Orpheus. I promised you we would. But we must deal with Orin first. I'm tired of her threats, and more importantly – we must save Gale! So can we please just move on?!"

Gale. As if Astarion near her wasn't bad enough, she was running off to face whatever danger lied ahead to save Gale!

He dropped the slate, this time. Thankfully, it did not break.

But the desk did when he punched it, full force.

His fingers hurt, but he didn't care as he picked up the slate again. He could try to track her down down there… but it'd be risky to go after her. After all, how would he explain himself? How could he tell her that he'd been looking after her ever since he'd given her the altered armour? No, he must wait it out. He must just sit and watch and hope she'd prove herself worthy enough for Bane. If she succeeded down there now, she would be allowed to keep her soul. And he wanted that. He really did.

He picked up the slate again, muttered the spell, and watched as she fought herself through the first group, then the way she faced Orin's Slayer form. Her tactic coupled with Astarion's attack seemed remarkably useful. And when she taunted Bhaal, Gortash actually smiled.

The moment they were back in the city, he's sent a group of Banites to fetch her.

Not Fists. Not Steel Watchers. Banites. People he trusted more than anyone else around himself.

So when those Banites showed up in her camp and told her that she'd need to immediately go to Wyrm's Rock Fortress, Enver felt slightly bad for her. As soon as she arrived back in the camp and tiredly peeled the Reaper's Embrace off of her body, she had to lie down to rest. She set the armour in a way that he could see her; she looked bad, worse than she did in the morning, and he could imagine that seeing Orin in that form, coupled with the fight itself, must've taken a toll on her.

He should've waited until he sent his men to bring her back.

But at the same time, he was furious at her.

Is that compassion?

Gortash froze as he was just standing up from his chair. A second later pure agony coursed through his veins, and Gortash collapsed on his hands and knees. The punishment didn't take longer than ten seconds, but during that time, he went through the pain of being skinned alive, from head to toe; every inch of him, all at once. He panted and tears pricked his eyes as he pressed his forehead against the ground. And he prayed and prayed and prayed he'd obey. He couldn't slip, not now, not when he was so close. Bane silently enjoyed to hear the promises of obedience; he'd soon put it to the test.

Don't forget who you are. Without me, you are nothing.

Gortash could hear something dripping. For a few seconds, he couldn't even open his eyes. He slowly sat back up on his knees, still panting, then he glanced down at the small pool of blood. Reaching up to his face, he discovered that his nose was still bleeding. He rubbed the tears away from his bloodshot eyes with his palms.

He shoved his feelings for her away from himself, focusing on his anger instead.

She borrowed a backpack from Shadowheart and put a few things away. Her hands shaking still from exhaustion, she tried to hurry as the masked men with a black hand on the surface of their helmets didn't look exactly friendly.

"I'm having second thoughts", Karlach mentioned, eyeing the figures at the edge of the camp as she stopped in front of Tav's tent. Tav hummed in response. "Are you sure this is the best course of action? Really aligning with Gortash? What if he betrays us?"

Tav was biting on her lower lip as she slipped the Netherstones in the backpack, then checked the blade of the Knife of the Undermountain King. She didn't even use it when she was fighting Orin. With a small smile, she placed the sword in the backpack, too.

"I don't know, Karlach. I don't think I have any choice at this point."

"What do you mean?" The tiefling tilted her head and Tav looked up at her.

"If he betrays us, I'll have to choose. Do I betray you all, or do I betray him?" She paused, glancing at her hands. "I can't do either."

Karlach waited a moment as she observed Tav's expression.

"Be honest", she whispered, crouching in front of Tav. "Do you love him?"

Tav bit into her lower lip again before tears flooded her eyes.

"I do", she admitted, "so much... it hurts... because I know what he is, and I can't change him..."

"What if we can?" The tiefling grinned now. "I totally would drag his sorry ass to the light for you."

"I don't think he'd want that…" Tav sniffed, then broke down.

Karlach was silent for a few minutes, allowing Tav to cry, then she smiled slightly and put her hand on Tav's shoulder.

"Hey. Chin up. We're with you, until the end, alright? If he's a stubborn mule and it comes to that, we'll take the fight to Bane himself, huh?"

Tav laughed a little at that, while she was still crying.

"I have my doubts we could kill a god, but I appreciate your words, Karlach. Thank you."

"Anytime", the tiefling smiled, then she got up. "You better hurry. I'm sure he's upset that you've left without his permission. I'm also sure you'll have a lot to explain."

"Uh... not sure I can do anything other than just collapsing in a bed."

She sighed as she picked up the Blood of Lathander and the backpack, then left her tent. The summer sun was warm against her skin, and she took a moment to close her eyes and enjoy it. She could feel the summer on the wind.

"I'll contact you", she told to Karlach, then. "We still have work to do."

"I know", Karlach nodded. "Stay safe, soldier."

"You, too."

She joined the group of Banites who silently surrounded her from all directions, then walked her back to Wyrm's Rock Fortress. The tension just built and built within her, especially when she saw how Gortash was waiting for her in the audience hall, at the end of the red carpet.

"You have the stones", he noted. Tav noticed his eyes were more bloodshot than earlier. He raised his hand and clenched his hand into a fist, showing her the gauntlet. "They resonate with my own."

As he lowered his hand, his expression changed. It lacked warmth; only cold determination could be seen in his dark eyes. The other Banites closed in on them, and she could hear a Steel Watcher step behind her as well. Tav's heart stilled for a moment. This was it. The moment of truth. When he would turn against her… when he would kill her for the stones to take control over the Elder Brain himself…?

" I commend you for putting an end to Orin's madness - she must be screaming bloody murder in the Hells even now." He paused, then laughed quietly, narrowing his eyes at her. "You've done me a great service. Thank you. Now…"

She said nothing, just waited for him to continue. Enver held his right hand out, waiting.

"Hand me the Netherstones, Tav."

She waited. She waited for this nightmare to end. Everything about him – every expression, motion, word, the way he stood, screamed that he'd kill her if she didn't do as told.

But she'd been through unimaginable horrors. She'd seen too much, heard too much, lived through too much. Every muscle in her body tensed, and she slowly raised her right hand to rest it on the handle of the Blood of Lathander, attached to her hips.

"Taking it into consideration that I bled for both", she stated, "my answer is no. You keep your stone, I'll keep mine."

If it was possible, she paled even further when she saw that his expression changed for the worse. He furrowed his dark brows and stared down at her with a fury.

"I'm not here for games. Hand me the stones, or face the black hand of Lord Bane."

Tav could feel her heart beat in her throat. Her hand locked onto the pommel of the Blood of Lathander. How easily he played her! Faked every emotion for her, the lust, the false promises. The betrayal felt like ice in her veins. She felt sick of herself for being so stupid. She never had a future with him – she never had a chance to have a family of her own. Her heart shattered, she could barely keep herself back from breaking down crying.

The Blood of Lathander felt warm under her palm. It always radiated warmth, but she sensed it more, now. When she closed her eyes to gather her strength, making him wait a few seconds, she saw a vision… of the hills where the Rosymorn Monastery was.

Refuse, a voice she'd never heard before, whispered in the back of her mind.

And that voice gave her power. Hope. She opened her eyes and stared back at Gortash, who was still waiting for her to answer. Tav swallowed and braced herself.

"Never."

#Oathbreaker #little tyrant [enver gortash] #bg3 #baldur's gate 3 #bg 3 #enver gortash #archduke enver gortash #lord enver gortash #fanfic #Oathbreaker fanfic

[snowdice]

Little Kestrel (Part 53) [Birds of Different Feathers Series]

Fandom: Sanders Sides

Relationships: Logan & Patton & Virgil (future Virgil/Patton but not in this story)

Characters:

Main: Logan, Patton, Virgil

Appear: Thomas

Mentioned: Janus

Summary:

It was supposed to be a quick job either way. Either Virgil would assassinate King Thomas of Prijaznia or he’d be caught and get executed. Yet, when Virgil gets the wrong bedroom and gets caught by Prince Logan and his future royal advisor, Patton, the job ends up getting way more complicated for the 14-year-old. He also ends up sleeping in a (actually pretty comfortable) closet for a few weeks…

Notes: Implied/referenced child abuse, assassination attempt, knives, torture mentioned, captivity, teenagers being really dumb, sexual coercion of minors implied, a minor offering sexual favors

This is a prequel to Kill Dear. I wrote it 100 words at a time on my blog, but this is the edited version. If you want to see how it was crafted (and possibly some future content), look at the tag proofread stories.

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6 Part 7 Part 8 Part 9 Part 10 Part 11 Part 12 Part 13 Part 14 Part 15 Part 16 Part 17 Part 18 Part 19 Part 20 Part 21 Part 22 Part 23 Part 24 Part 25 Part 26 Part 27 Part 28 Part 29 Part 30 Part 31 Part 32 Part 33 Part 34 Part 35 Part 36 Part 37 Part 38 Part 39 Part 40 Part 41 Part 42 Part 43 Part 44 Part 45 Part 46 Part 47 Part 48 Part 49 Part 50 Part 51 Part 52

Virgil and Mr. Deknis took their time planting the orchids. Virgil had done everything Mr. Deknis had instructed him to do with the plot of land prior to planting. He’d had Mr. Deknis write it all down, so Logan could read him the instructions each morning, and had dutifully followed each step. The sheet of paper was in Virgil’s pocket even now. He knew the words so well at this point that he could have recited each list item even if it had words he still couldn’t read.

It had been hard work getting the soil just right for the flowers he wanted to plant, but it was fun hard work. Working hard was different when he didn’t have to do something but wanted to do something. He’d also noticed it was easier to do physical labor when he wasn’t hungry, something he hadn’t been all winter in the castle.

He’d thought since he hadn’t been training as much as usual over the winter months that he’d be weaker when Spring came, but he actually felt stronger and had much more energy.

He’d also grown taller without realizing it thanks to Logan’s nutrition potion. He’d noticed when he’d been in the shed earlier. When he’d first hid in the shed upon arriving at the castle the previous fall, he’d been able to walk under all of the hanging tools in the back. Today, he’d hit his head on some of the them.

His body had changed a lot in the past few months. It made planting with Mr. Deknis much easier.

Virgil had already helped Mr. Deknis with planting some vegetables this Spring, but he still was careful to pay attention as the gardener showed him how to plant the first few orchid bulbs.

Then, Virgil was handed the container of bulbs for himself to try planting. Mr. Deknis watched him plant the first few orchids and Virgil glanced up for approval before moving on each time. He always got a nod and small smile.

Eventually, Mr. Deknis took a few bulbs himself to the opposite end of the patch of soil and started planting some himself, trusting Virgil to plant his portion of the flowers right without supervision. Virgil couldn’t help but be happy about the show of trust given to him.

“Good job,” Mr. Deknis said after the two of them had planted two rows of orchids. “You’ve got an eye for planting things.”

“Thanks,” Virgil said bashfully.

“How old are you again?”

“I’m 14,” Virgil said, unsure why he was asking.

Mr. Deknis nodded. “Maybe in a few years you’ll want to get a job as one of the gardeners here,” he said. “I could always use one who knows how to respect plants like you and with how much you’ve been volunteering to help already, you’ll know a good amount by then.”

“Really?” Virgil asked.

Mr. Deknis nodded.

“Why not now?”

“You’re only 14,” Mr. Deknis said. “You don’t need to worry about working. I’m happy to let you tag along and watch or even help a bit with planting when you want, but you should just be a kid.”

That confused Virgil. He’d been considered out of training to be an assassin as soon as he’d turned 14-years-old last fall. Now he was being told he needed to wait a few years to help plant seeds?

“I could do it,” Virgil said.

“I know you could,” Mr. Deknis said, “but you don’t need to. Have a little fun this summer.”

“But I want to,” Virgil said.

Mr. Deknis huffed out a laugh. “I know,” he said, “and you can feel free to care for your orchids and help me out all you want, but no jobs until you’re at least 16.”

“It’s better than any other jobs I’ve had,” Virgil muttered, honestly annoyed he couldn’t become a gardener right now because of his age.

Mr. Deknis raised an eyebrow. “And what other jobs have you had?”

Virgil froze. That was not a good line of questioning. “Uh…” Virgil said and Mr. Deknis’s expression was changing in an alarming way. “Different things. I’ve carried things for people and, uh, cleaned.”

“Carried things and cleaned, huh?” Mr. Desknis said. It felt like he wasn’t only testing Virgil’s words for lies but observing his face and posture too.

Virgil should be good at lying. He should. That was a major part of being an assassin, but Virgil had started to slip after spending so long around people who were not a danger to him.

At least not a danger to him as long as he didn’t get caught in a lie.

He’d been sloppy with the way he’d frozen when asked a question and with the stuttering. He should have been prepared; he was prepared for the next question.

“You only had to carry things and clean some things up?” Mr. Deknis asked, his eyebrows still raised.

Virgil carefully smoothed out his face, forcing his shoulder to relax as he shrugged. “And some other things,” he said easily. Not a lie. He could feel his heart race anyway.

Mr. Deknis’s eyes bored into him for a long moment and then he titled his head to the side and squinted at him.

Virgil just shot him a small smile. “Can we finish planting the flowers, please?” he asked politely. “I was very excited about it and would like to finish it today.”

Mr. Deknis did not reply for a long moment, and Virgil was careful to keep his expression blank.

Finally, the gardener relented, breaking his stare. If this was because he believed Virgil or not was unclear.

“Yeah, kid,” he said slowly. “Let’s finish planting your flowers.”

Virgil nodded, and he didn’t have to lie as much now as cautious eagerness returned to him. He really did want to finish planting his flowers in addition to stopping Mr. Deknis from asking uncomfortable questions about where Virgil had come from.

Mr. Deknis nodded to the bag of bulbs. They went back to work planting the flowers, but Virgil could feel Mr. Deknis’s eyes on him almost constantly. He had a feeling that this time, he wasn’t watching for how well Virgil was planting the bulbs, but something else.

Virgil was careful to not let his mask slip at all the entire time.

When they were finished planting Virgil’s entire plot of land, they cleaned up the equipment and stored it back away in the garden shed.

Another day Virgil might have stayed and helped Mr. Deknis with other things. Today he was still trying to cover for his bad lying earlier, however, so, Virgil decided to just go back to the castle and shower.

To his surprise Mr. Deknis also started walking off in the direction of the castle.

“Don’t you have more planting to do?” Virgil asked when they got to the door. He knew the man was very busy and his workday was only a bit more than half over.

“I do,” Mr. Deknis confirmed, “but I needed to talk to the king about something first.”

“Oh,” Virgil said. “Okay. I’m going to go shower.”

Mr. Deknis nodded. “I’ll see you sometime later then,” he said.

“Thank you for helping me plant the orchids.”

Mr. Deknis smiled slightly at that. “Anytime, kid.”

Want to read more? Click below!

Birds of Different Feathers Master Post

My Masterpost

#sanders sides #logan sanders #patton sanders #virgil sanders #character thomas sanders #adriana writes #little kestrel #birds of different feathers #implied/referenced child abuse #assassination attempt #past torture #captivity

[socksracoon10]

𝕻𝖗𝖔𝖑𝖔𝖌𝖚𝖊

I have often been told by members of this story that to write a convincing book depicting the true horrors of an event you must be descriptive; descriptive enough to send a frightful feel down the reader’s back. However, I am unfit for such talents as I am just but a meek young man that spent many years sheltered by my controlling parents. From a young age, I had found myself simply reading stories that would whisk me away from the house that I resided in. I did not know many of the words, so I remember placing my own to help me connect with those tales. Spending hours in a room with a small frame of a bed by the window and a desk placed right in front of the door (my father wanted to monitor me as much as he could), reading was the only escape I had from the boring life of tutoring.  My father, in the meantime, would often come into my room with a disheartened expression on his narrow face; his grey eyes bulging out, almost out of the large sockets of his constricting head. His stare would force me to close my books and return to my schoolwork, toiling away at numbers and concepts that only seemed to drift away - out of the window and into the streets of our bleak town.  

The readers would now possibly wonder as to why I continue to describe my town as being so depressing and dark. To answer your question, it’s because it has always been a place where even the corpses rotting in the graveyards would feel miserable. When I was a child – no more than 7 years old – I remember inquiring another child where he would like to be in his free time. Since I had spent much of my life withdrawn in my house imagining other worldly places, I was foolish to believe this boy would respond with the park or a carnival. He responded the cemetery to help his father. I promptly left the conversation, sprinting on my heels back to my house, yet again.  

So, it is of no surprise when I had left my town as a full young man of 19 years of age, I was bewildered upon noticing that only my town was the most boring one in the entirety of the world. A city just next to mine had brilliant tales of the aristocracy; the poor didn’t seem to swarm as much there. It was a shame I couldn’t connect to such a beautiful city; I had no friends nor family to visit so I took the alternative: my uncle’s house. His house was situated in a cobbled area of mud; the few aristocrats I had acquainted myself with lived right next to the poverty-stricken people; there was no other place they could go to. How naïve I was; my parents had forbidden me from leaving the house at such a young age to solidify their wishes for me to pursue something valuable. I had no idea about my surroundings and what I should do about it. The next day, I recall having left my uncle to solve that problem and that is where I met Edward Phillistine – an important character in the story to come.

I introduced myself, stating my name and my purpose of this visit which was to find a way to aid my uncle’s business in the factory industry. I remember the way Edward’s soft eyes instantly hardened, a frown developing on those dry lips of his. He remained as if he were deep in thought before reprimanding me for choosing such a place to pursue a business. I was taken aback by the nature of his question, why would anyone not pursue business? It was a booming occupation with the surge in workers, and I was told that I would be a memorable asset to the growing change in the world. After giving my explanation, Edward chuckled, motioning for me to sit beside him. I did as I was told, as I had often done since I could walk. He began to dip deep into my life, asking about my interests, my friends and my family. To be honest, I didn’t know then (nor do I know now) if telling him about my passion for stories and writing was a grave mistake or not, but I savored the way his eyebrows raised as he sat straighter, a bolt of energy surging through his spine.  

“You like stories and magnificent tales?”  

“Ever since I was born, really,” I responded, a sense of hesitation hung from my voice. After all, he was still a stranger and the fear that my parents would punish me still loomed over my head.

“I’ve got one to tell you, it happened two years ago.”  

My dear readers, I truly mean it when I tell you that I have never had such an exhilarating experience in my life! Spending years fantasizing about adventure and mystery, I found myself wallowing in the pits of hell when I realized I had missed such a tremendous opportunity. Distinctly, around 2 years ago, my uncle had beckoned me to pay a visit as he had felt unsafe with the strange occurrences happening in his town. My parents had barely shared any ounce of information as to what those occurrences were so I had brushed it aside, telling my parents to inform my uncle that he would be fine and there was no need for me to come. How much of a fool I was! The tale went on for many hours; I went on to accompany Edward to his house and then the house of Mr. Charleston – another important one to note. It was here that I received more details of the story and a sudden spark in me grew; I had to begin writing, again. Who cares what my parents would say? I had missed an incredible tale because of those ill beings that brought me to life. Life would be an understatement; I had no life when residing in their household. I was cornered against my own will due to my “vivacious imagination” as they called it. The importance of documenting this is to preserve my own sanity by reading this again and again.  

Readers, I hope you will take note then that since this is my first-time writing, there were plenty of mistakes. A plethora, if you will. I had it revised and checked multiple times through Edward and other companions who you will see and lastly, my dear uncle. It’s quite a shame I never spent more time with him now than I had ever done. I’m glad, however, that I finally have taken the opportunity to shine (although I have dramatized certain events to make the story flow more). Oh, enough with my nonsense! I must be keeping you all bored with my ramblings – to which I sincerely apologize, I am just very excited – you must delve into this story. While this was written for the sake of my own happiness, I do also hope that the readers enjoy this as much as I did listening to it.

Regards,   Virgil Shillingford

#prologue #murder #crime #original story #victorian era #dramatic murder #dramatical murder #thriller #original characters #original novel #novel

[kuruimizu]

Lights

an original story by Puck McCormick originally written in 2019 so it’s a little rough around the edges Rating: T (drug use and swearing) Words: 5704 disclaimer: I have never personally done MDMA

It was all lights and blazing heat. Flashes of green, blue, pink and all other hues she could see. Glowsticks twirling in circles, bass pumping as loud as possible. Bodies everywhere, a sea of young dancers. Suddenly it hit her, everything had felt fine until now. It was sudden, it was a shiver, she needed air. All the people together had generated a heat that had at one point felt comfortable, but was now too much to bear. She felt it at its worst as she passed through the crowd, heading for the door of the warehouse.

When she stepped outside, she noticed the bouncer who had let her in was gone, likely inside. Good enough, at least she could go back inside later. The pacifier in her mouth was the only thing that kept her from nervously heaving into a nearby bush. She took it out and breathed hard, taking as much air as she could into her lungs. This wasn't only just her first rave, it was her first time on ecstasy, or any drug for that matter. 

A few minutes had passed, and she felt lucid enough to keep on going. The fresh air outside had kept her from panicking, but she wasn’t ready to go back inside. She paced around the empty front lot of the warehouse, lost in thought about the circumstances that lead up to tonight.

Just a couple days ago, while out and about, she had laid her eyes on something new. She had met buskers before, but for the first time ever she saw a genuine breakdancer. Extremely skilled and clearly having a good time, a quick look at his brightly colored and baggy clothing pinned him for a raver. His boombox nearby pumped out bassy hip hop beats at a reasonable volume, and he definitely had some slick moves on display as he twirled about on a cardboard mat.

Next to him were uncracked glowsticks, and an oversized striped top hat lying upside down that a few passersby and those who stayed to watch had tossed spare change or dollar bills into it. While he thanked the kindness these people displayed, he was clearly going on just for the fun of it. Soon sweaty and breathless, he found himself sitting criss-cross and taking notice of the girl in front of him, hoping she was watching closely.

"Pretty impressive huh?" He said with a smirk on his face as he hit the stop button on his boombox.

"U-uh... yeah," She was impressed, but didn't know how to vocalize it. "That was really cool."

"Yah, thanks! Name's Danny." He held out a big tan hand as if to shake hers.

She slowly reached her hand toward his, clasping it and giving a dainty shake. His grip was rather loose, as if he didn't want to make a forceful impression.

"What's your name?" He asked.

"Rachel," She couldn't understand why she felt nervous. This guy wasn’t intimidating or anything, perhaps she just wasn’t expecting him to strike up conversation first.

"Pretty name. You look nice, ever dance? I know a lot of cool people." He seemed confident, like the type of person who would have a lot of friends, or at least acquaintances. "We rave sometimes. It's awesome!"

Raves? She knew what those were, of course, but here? In such a modest town like this, something like that seemed ridiculous. Well, maybe not ridiculous, but still unlikely. People around here weren’t exactly the most fun all the time.

"I've uh, never been to a rave before."

"Whaaaaaat..." His expression was both flat and exaggerated at the same time. "Well hey, as long as you're over 18 I'll invite you out to one. The age rule is kind of new, we had to ween out teenage runaways. A few searches lead to some cops breaking our shit up."

"Yeah, I'm 19."

"Cool. I didn't want to ask your age right away. So," He seemed to be trying to make genuine conversation. "You work around here? Downtown's kinda small, ain't it? Busy, but still small."

"It is, yeah. I get bored a lot after work, so I walk around and kind of window shop. Sometimes I watch the buskers. I work right over there, at my uncle's little gift shop," She pointed over to her left. "Right down the block over there. It's just a lame job I've been doing since before I graduated. He pays me okay, enough to save up and move out soon."

"Movin' up in the world, huh?" He smiled at her. "Gotta be free and independent, like me." He pointed his thumb at his chest.

Rachel liked small talk more than most other people, she was always happy to lend a helping hand to anyone lost around the area, as she knew it well. Talking to the buskers was one of her favorite things to do after work and on the weekends. Danny was different, but she did feel a real warmth to him. He was definitely a real person, and he only seemed slightly out of place among the hustle, bustle, and suits nearby. Even the people in casual clothes couldn't match his outrageous style.

"Eventually," She said with a weak smile. "As much as I'd love to keep talking, I kinda gotta go before my mom's done with dinner. It was nice to meet you though, Danny."

"Aw, I was havin' fun talkin' to ya." He sounded disappointed, but no frown could form on his cheery face.

As she began to walk away, he called out to stop her.

"Hey, wait!" He tore off a piece of the corner of his cardboard mat. "You got a pen?"

She dug through her purse, trying to find one. Her fingers traced along one she was sure she stole from work, she wasn't even sure if it still had ink in it. 

"I wanna write down the address for you. If you wanna come, that is." He scribbled down with messy writing where the rave would take place. "Friday night. Hope to see you there." He handed her the cardboard slip with a smile. "Take care." He said as he waved goodbye.

"Thanks, I'll make it if I can." She grabbed it and gently slid it into her purse.

"One more thing," Danny added. "You'll need some stuff before you go, though. I have a friend, she can come visit you at your job tomorrow. She's got some clothes and stuff, she's about the same size as you I think."

"Thanks," She muttered nervously. "Bye now." Rachel was off on her way, ready to go home and end her Wednesday night.

The next day, a girl in a dark shirt and torn up denim shorts over even darker leggings visited the gift shop. She seemed disinterested in any business, instead asking Rachel if she knew Danny. A brief "Yes," was followed by the girl taking off and unzipping a backpack, fishing out strange looking clothes. 

"Hey, try this stuff on." The girl said in a slightly annoyed tone.

A quick trip to the back of the store and an awkward change into the garish getup showed that it did indeed fit her, weird hat included. Rachel changed back and confirmed to the girl that the size was right.

"Cool." She nearly growled. "Here, this ain't mine anyway." She said as she handed Rachel the backpack and walked out of the store without another word.

It didn't seem worth the effort to try to chase after her for any questions. It was clear enough that this was what she needed for the upcoming rave, and as she piled the clothes back into the bag she noticed a pacifier in a zip-lock bag. Eugh, why the hell was that in there?

That Friday night, when she found herself timidly walking along a moonlit path toward a warehouse on the outskirts of town, she couldn't help but feel a bit frightened to be alone past 10 o' clock. She had parked among a nearby collection of cars just off the main road, it seemed there were definitely going to be a lot of people here tonight.

She had told her mother that she was staying over at her friend Trudy's for the night. She was too old for excuses like that but it was better than “I’m going to a rave for the first time completely by myself in the middle of the night.” To which her mother would be understandably concerned, adult or not.

As she continued walking she began to hear it, the loud and pulsating bass of the music ahead. She knew one thing for sure, this place was going to be crowded and very loud. She had to suck in a deep breath as she kept walking along. She had already changed into her rave clothes at a gas station bathroom along the way, still questioning why a pacifier was zipped up into the bag.

Drawing ever closer she saw the old warehouse, and heard the music loud enough. It was lit up from inside, bright and bustling, and at the entrance stood a man who was dressed as strangely as any other raver, who seemed to be a bouncer. People were still entering, some by themselves and others in large groups, chatting and laughing all the way. The techno music inside was booming as she approached the bouncer at his little makeshift post.

"Hey," He started. "Danny invite you?"

"Y-yeah," She spoke up nervously, but as loud as she could so he could hear her. "Here, lemme grab this."

She dug through her purse and pulled out the piece of cardboard that was still in there, showing it to him.

"Yup, that's Danny's writing alright. You're cool to come in.”

She was expecting to be asked for her ID, or money, or something to get in. Instead he just opened the doors for her. She had so many questions, but as she dug through her purse and felt the little baggy the girl had given her yesterday, she decided there was only one worth asking.

"Hey," She pulled out the little baggy with the pacifier in it. "A girl gave me this. Why?"

"Oh, yeah. That's so your mouth don't get dry," He was staring straight at it. "Don't worry, no one'd give you a used one."

"So my mouth doesn't get dry?" She was confused.

"You'll see once you head inside, so just keep it on ya. Also," he pointed to a small trash can next to him, “You should put your purse in here, just move your valuables to your pockets. It’s real easy to lose stuff in there.”

Rachel shrugged and moved her wallet and the pacifier into the shockingly deep pockets on the baggy pants she was wearing and approached the can. It was full of handbags, many of which were fuzzy or some crazy color, she dropped hers in.

“My clothes are in there. My normal clothes.” She said, worried.

“They’ll be safe.” The bouncer said as he turned to the side and gestured for her to head in.

She took a deep breath and traipsed inside. As she entered the warehouse everything hit her all at once; the music boomed, glowsticks and spotlights twirled around to illuminate the dark building. The techno music was of the 90s ‘acid’ variety, and a DJ sat in his booth area, hard at work on mixing and keeping the party going.

The scariest part, she felt, was that she didn't know anybody here at all, and the likelihood of her running into Danny right away was pretty low. This isn't some clichéd romance novel after all. No, she had to be brave and walk around by herself, silently observing everything around her. It was almost like something she had seen on TV before, ironically in an anti-rave ad by local officials, who proclaimed it a "problem."

Everyone around her was clearly having fun, focused on dancing and partying hard, the smell of sweat and youth was all around her. Off to one side, not far from the DJ, she saw a punch bowl and red solo cups lying on a table. Obviously, the punch would be spiked, probably with vodka or rum. Rachel didn't really drink, but she thought she could loosen herself up a bit as the night progressed. Hell, it was already past 10:30, and she may as well get herself accustomed to it and have as much fun as she could.

Rachel didn't dance much, the only music she really listened to was whatever played on the radio. Local rock and pop hits, everything from Nirvana to NSYNC (so not very much). She'd tap her foot or fingers occasionally, but since she was still working on getting a new car she didn't really listen to the radio much, the one in her current car didn’t even work.

This music, of course, was way different than anything she had ever heard before. It pulsated in repetitive rhythmic beats, sounds accompanying it that were unlike anything she knew. Naturally whatever techno this was would be far outside of her knowledge or comfort zone, but, after enough time, she found herself at least semi-able to enjoy it. Maybe she could find herself dancing, after all who would be around to critique her on her form? She didn't dance much and in this environment that clearly didn't matter.

She breathed deep and tried her best to feel the rhythm, taking note of the dancers she saw nearby, studying the way they moved. The ravers kicked around with reckless abandon, clearly lost in the excitement and deep into the groove as the music only seemed to grow louder and more intense.

She found herself starting to move like they did, feeling awkward but okay with how she was doing. Eventually she found a rhythm and did her best to stick to it, trying not to stare at the floor and instead into the crowd as she attempted to keep her dancing from being half-hearted. 

Time flew in a way she had already predicted, and she unfortunately didn't have a watch with her. Clearly this was going to go on quite late, so it all didn't really matter. So far she was starting to enjoy herself, but felt slightly disappointed at so far not seeing Danny around, or even the annoyed girl who delivered her rave clothes to her. Nothing but foreign and energetic bodies around her, the heat of it all seemed to be getting to her more than it was to everyone else.

Everyone remained transfixed into their dancing as she walked past and through them, headed toward the punch bowl after a bit of dancing. One cup wouldn't hurt, and it would probably help loosen her up. Maybe she'd even see Danny hanging out nearby the bowl, there was plenty of it after all, and groups of people hanging around.

Like some kind of easily predictable coincidence, she did in fact see him as she rounded her way to the punch table. He was caught in a conversation with someone nearby, and, while still eccentric, he was dressed in different clothing than when she had met him. She couldn't tell what colors his clothes really were in the near ultraviolet light that shadowed the whole place, but she could see the glowing necklaces that held oddly shaped pendants and bright glowsticks.

She decided to let him notice her first, so she grabbed a cup and got herself some punch, making sure to include ice in her drink to keep her cool and let it water down the alcohol a bit. She took a gentle sip and noticed that it tasted quite like normal punch, whatever was in it was mixed well, and it tasted relatively pleasant.

Almost right on cue, Danny had ended his conversation and noticed her presence. He instantly smiled, looking excited but incredibly relaxed at the same time. Even though this was only her second time meeting him she knew his expressions always seemed to be contradictions when he eyed her. No matter what his face showed, he was definitely always kind to her, and that was what mattered. He was definitely approaching to make conversation, and as Rachel took another sip she braced herself for loud dialogue.

"Hey, glad ya could make it!" Danny yelled out to her, hoping to be heard.

She nodded at him as she took another small sip from her cup, which Danny seemed to be eyeing. The sweet taste was really getting to her, it seemed almost too sugary, but she did her best to deal with it. No one was going to force her to finish it anyway.

"I'm glad I could make it too," She finally spoke up, trying to be loud and clear. Danny nodded to her, and it was clear enough the two could hear each other, able to talk. "This is really weird for me, but I like it so far."

"Good, good." He nodded at her with a smile. "Hey, by the way, go easy on that punch! It's got a damn good kick to it, ya feel me?"

"I figured!" She knew she was going to go easy on it, even without a hint of alcohol in the flavor, she knew it'd be sweet but strong. "I can barely taste the alcohol! What's in this anyway? It's really sweet!"

"Oh!" Danny seemed to be laughing to himself in response, and she braced himself for him to answer that it had some of the hardest liquor she'd ever had in it. "It's MDMA!" He started laughing harder to himself.

"It's what?" That acronym sounded ever so vaguely familiar.

"MDMA! You know, ecstasy!" He was nearly erupting into joyous laughter as it hit her. "I've already had a cup and I'm good! But you be easy with it!"

Suddenly everything made sense, no wonder she couldn't taste any alcohol. This wasn't some drunken placebo effect, this was normal punch... spiked with actual drugs.

Shit, she was in for what would probably be a wild ride. She had no idea about ecstasy or what it did besides the common description that it ‘makes everything feel good.’

"I-I, u-uh..." She shuddered to herself as she placed her cup on her table. "I, uh... I wish I knew that!" Danny could tell she felt scared, and came up close to her, grabbing hold of her as she started to tear up a bit. She was completely overcome with anxiety in a moment’s notice.

"Hey," He said in a slightly quieter voice since she could hear him better now. "You didn't drink a lot, don't be scared. That'll make it feel shitty. Just keep calm and dance."

Danny's smile was genuine, and his body was warm. With a closer look she could tell he was definitely on it himself, and was functioning just fine. As an avid raver, this was clearly not his first rodeo, he was definitely experienced with it. This made his words and his touch more comforting and genuine, and she felt herself growing hot too.

"Did Ryan give you a pacifier?" He asked her.

"Wh-who?" She couldn’t think right now.

"Ryan, the girl who gave you those clothes."

"Oh, um, yeah," She reached into her pocket and pulled it out. "I brought it with me."

"Cool," He was happy to see she had it. "Use it if your mouth feels dry or your teeth get grindy. It'll keep you good enough to keep it going."

Well, that was one small comfort. She tried to brace herself, having no idea how long it would take to come on, or how strongly, or anything for that matter. At least she kind of knew what to expect, and if she let herself go she'd more than likely have a great time.

She decided to stick close to Danny, confirming she felt she'd be okay for the rest of the night, until he brought her back into the crowd. She had gotten one last small sip before leaving her cup behind, and was quickly back into the fray. The colors seemed to be getting a tad blurry, leaving small trails as they went by. The twirling glowsticks were particularly mesmerizing.

She expected some mild discomfort, but as she went along with him and started dancing she felt quite the opposite. It wasn't too intense, but it was definitely something completely new. Suddenly, time now felt like it was flying as she and Danny simply danced their hearts out wordlessly, somehow being able to simply feel each other's wavelengths, and she had no time or interest in making sure that even made any sense.

No, nothing really mattered anymore, at least not in the moment. The vocal samples in the various songs bumped out encouraging R&B-type singers, always focused on the dancing. Keep on dancing now, that was the only concern on the planet right now it seemed, the only thing the two of them could focus on.

Danny was right about the pacifier, despite how utterly ridiculous it felt, it was serving its purpose well. Any time her mouth felt like it was even remotely drying, sucking on it helped her keep salivating, and the taste of sweet punch was still on her tongue.

After what seemed like an eternity of raucous movements of all kinds, she suddenly felt rather strange. It was hot, very hot, and she felt like she was getting dizzy. She needed to stop. Her heartbeat felt like it was matching the music to a T, but then it felt like it was getting more and more rapid. Her sense of perception was off, and she felt unsure about everything. Falling forward, she nearly toppled over as Danny broke out of his dance craze to catch her.

"Yo," He looked at her, face to face, concerned. "You doin' okay?"

"I-I need t-to go outside," She took out the pacifier, stuttering on her words, and getting steadily more overheated by the minute. "It's j-just really h-hot in h-here..."

"Yo, it's okay. Lemme just-"

Danny was interrupted by Rachel suddenly pulling away from him and anxiously making her way through the crowds to reach the warehouse doors, which were closed. Her hands clasped the handles, thoroughly shaking, and she couldn't breathe, feeling like she was gasping. Finally, she was able to jiggle the handle just right, running outside to catch her breath, hoping the solitude and fresh air could calm her panic attack.

She remained alone for what only seemed like a few minutes, minutes that were now crawling instead of flashing by like they had been before. As she gasped, desperate to cool off, she heard a familiar voice and quick footsteps as Danny ran outside to catch her.

"Rachel!" He ran up to her, still clearly high as a kite, but being as grounded and concerned as he could manage.

"Don't touch me!" She shrieked.

"Hey, hey, it's okay," He backed up a few steps to gain some distance from her. "I'll give ya some space, 'kay? Just breathe, you're overheated. Gotta cool off and you'll feel better, promise."

A few minutes rolled by and Danny's words were true, she felt her heart, previously rapid, beating slower toward a normal pace. The sweat on her brow was dissipating, she felt cooler, and steadily more collected as she kept taking deep breaths, which got smaller and smaller until her breathing became more regulated.

"Hey, feelin' better now?" Danny looked her in the eyes, noticing for the first time their hazel color.

"Y-yeah..."

"Wish I had grabbed some water. I was in a hurry."

"It's okay, I-I feel better." She looked at him back, his eyes were a dark shade of brown.

"Good," Danny started pacing nervously. "Hey, look, I'm gonna head back inside. Feel free to come back in, I'd love to keep dancin' with ya!" He was so good at giving those warm, genuine smiles.

"I... I think I'm gonna head home," She nervously rubbed one of her arms. "I, just... Lots of anxiety, you know?"

"I get it," He came closer to gently put a hand on her shoulder. "But just calm down as much as you can out here, you’ll start to enjoy it."

“I mean, this isn’t how I imagined my first time doing this.” Rachel said, thinking of how this was never even something she imagined herself doing in the first place.

“Look, both of us are way too high to drive.” He had a point there.

“What time is it anyway?” Time itself was distorted, as was nearly everything else.

“Dunno,” He didn’t have a watch on him or anything. “But the night is definitely still young. It’s probably only been a few hours.” There was no way to really tell, the moon was hidden by the canopy of trees and the glow of rave lights.

If she could just go with the flow, everything probably would be enjoyable. There was no use fighting the high. She’d just have to ride the wave, so to speak.

“Okay,” She spoke out loud, then started to think. Focus, Rachel. “I think…” Trying to speak was getting a bit difficult. “I c-can…” “Hey, I know it’s your first rodeo and all…” Danny scratched the back of his neck. “Just stick close to me, alright?” He held out his hand, inviting her to grab it.

“Okay,” She basically didn’t really have any other option here anyhow. “I trust you.”

“Great,” He felt he had been maybe a bit too touchy, but he gently placed a hand on her shoulder again, ready to lead her back inside. “Come on, let’s dance a bit more. I still got lots of energy right now. Then, I dunno.”

As they walked back inside, Rachel tried to keep her breathing under control. She tried to focus on the positive aspects; the things she liked about what was going on. Lights and colors all around, people having an absolute blast as they let themselves go. The insane raver fashion that captivated her and demanded attention. The DJ jamming and the speakers vibrating, it almost looked like the sound waves were visible. Trying to keep a cool head, she thought about how incredible it all was.

Yeah, thinking about everything cool here was helping just a tiny bit, and that was better than freaking out over nothing. The vibe she felt in her body was a buzz that she was slowly growing more and more used to as the minutes passed. She stuck close to Danny, joining him on the dance floor. The heat came back, but it was obvious given the sheer sea of bodies, all sweaty and exhausted but going on to dance their hearts out.

She gave up trying to even measure time, and did her best to actually listen to the music. She was beginning to like it, the way everything felt better and better as she ignored what her mind tried to tell her out of anxiety. No, no reason to listen to it. Shut it off and feel the ecstasy of the night, it was about time she had some damn fun in her life. Too many years of being a boring, good girl. Nineteen years and this was the first time she actually felt free.

“You know there’s water bottles here too right,” Danny shouted at her, reassuring her that if she felt hot she’d be alright. “There’s still a box by the punch. You look real red.”

It was getting easier and easier to ignore her body’s basic needs when her mind and everything else around her told her to keep going. Danny instead walked off, intent to grab a bottle for her, but noticing his sudden absence took her out of her trance and nearly inflicted more panic in her. He’d only been gone for a few seconds but it felt like hours to her.

Rachel held her head. No, no, no, no, no, her frightened mind repeated. She couldn’t handle being alone right now. He was quick to return but she quickly fell onto him trying her best not to be a blubbering mess as her thoughts continued to run wild.

“Uhh, you cool?” Danny asked as she hung onto him.

Rachel was silent until she felt something cold touch her arm, which took her by surprise until Danny revealed it was a simple bottle of cold water.

“You need to drink this, ‘kay?” He handed the bottle to her and she nervously grasped in her hand, the sensation of the cold sending new shocks through her body.

She tried to regain control of herself. Shaking and struggling to twist the cap off before opening it and chugging it, spilling it over herself in the process. Lord, was she a mess, and she knew it too.

“Easy now,” Danny said while his hands attempted to say the same thing. This would surely be a long night. He was no stranger to “babysitting” but didn’t expect to be doing it while high himself, and definitely not at a rave. But he cared enough about Rachel and couldn’t betray his generous nature, and at least she was drinking water even though she was spilling just as much as she was drinking.

“Just keep that with you, I don’t want you passing out now.” He flashed her a warm smile, happy to help out even if it would take a bit away from his night. Danny was an avid raver anyway, and there were more to come in the next few weeks alone. Plenty of time to make up for it and keep in touch with his friends, who had disappeared from near the punch bowl some time ago.

Rachel responded with a weak “Okay,” wiping her mouth and coughing a bit. Despite nearly choking she was eager to get back to dancing, holding onto Danny as if they were going to slow dance or something.

“Got balance?” He asked, trying to prop her back up so she could stand on her feet.

“Think so.” She responded as he let go. She was fighting the urge in her mind to grab another cup of punch. For as much as she was near freaking out she was also hoping this would be one of those nights that never ends. New experiences were exactly what she needed to finally break out of her shell.

“Maybe we should take a quick breather,” Danny suggested while rubbing the back of his neck again. “I just kinda wanna see where Amy and Duncan went to.”

“Were they your friends? I’m sorry I interrupted.” She remembered drawing him away from the others with her presence, and she felt bad despite him never once complaining and being the one to initiate conversation in the first place.

“No, no. It’s chill, don’t worry. But maybe you’d like to meet them, they’re way cool.”

The prospect of actually meeting other ravers was definitely exciting, and she realized that all night she hadn’t interacted with anyone else besides Danny and the man out front. Time continued distorting and within seconds she was already talking to the two others, laughing and telling jokes. She couldn’t recall just what the four of them talked about, but the sound of raucous laughter fighting through the music was joyous to her ears.

The sense of time was an irrelevant distraction now, and everyone planned on going on until the latest hours of the night. Even so, after parties were planned. It was a night of sick shit, as Danny described it.

So goes the lives of ravers. Life is boring, depressing, unfair, and ultimately a drag to crawl through. Nights like these made things bearable. Drugs like these made those nights fun. She could get used to this, maybe.

Once again, Rachel stepped outside. However this time she was neither alone nor in a state of panic. The four simply needed some air and to cool their bodies off. Rachel watched as the other three lit up cigarettes; she didn’t smoke, but didn't mind it when others did. After her first real experience with drugs tonight, there was no point in judging anyone anymore, especially with all four having solo cups too.

The four had conversations, told jokes, and laughed together in harmony. For what it was worth, they were really starting to make Rachel feel less and less out of place. The weird getup, the loud music, the high, everything. None of it felt so foreign, so bad anymore. This was the best social learning experience she’d ever had, after the drudgery of high school, which didn’t teach her a damn thing anyway.

Despite her earlier urges, Rachel had abstained from another helping of punch. Just as well; as the night wore on, the bowl was eventually emptied. Everything was beginning to wear off and the moon was still high in the sky, but she still had no clue what time it was. Then it hit her, her stuff. It was still in that trash can near the door. If no one stole it, that is.

But she was lucky, and she dug into her purse for the little watch she carried with her but never wore. It was after 3 at this point, the prospect of a soon rising sun made the inner workings of her body say something along the lines of The sun is going to rise soon and you should be in bed. Thoughts to which she didn’t even respond to, for just this night she didn’t have a care in the world. It helped that she didn’t have to work tomorrow.

There was already talk of ditching the scene for Danny’s apartment before the sun came up. She could be sure it’d be a night of drinking and probably a lot of pot. And sure, why not? Finally, she had broken her shell, even if it was for one night. She hadn’t enjoyed alcohol before and never really smoked, but it was time for some new experiences. Time to stop being afraid of life, and enjoy the little pleasures the world can offer.

#writing #original writing #original work #story #original story #rave #drugs #friendship #new experiences

[jamespottersdaisy]

hii, 18, 19, 27, you don't have to answer these if u don't want to ☝🏽

hell yea i do! thanks for asking🤓

18) Most traumatic experience

Hmm, okay, so there was this guy, we were friends but not in a way that normal friends were friending. He was jealous of other boys, controlling, he would make me unfollow guys from my insta, and would get angry if a guy texted me and I didn't tell him. He had huge anger issues, and he was aware of it, knew damn well how to use it for his own advantage.

Don't get me wrong, he was attentive and protective, and always there for me, so at first I'd ignore all the weird jealousy etc. But then we started fighting more often, and it got so fucking tiring. For months we would fight on any small thing possible and I didn't notice at that time that I was always the one apologizing, getting humiliated, and silenced. Later on I saw that he was gaslighting me because he used 'That's not how it happened', 'There was nothing to get hurt in my words' 'You said it like you wanted me to get angry' 'You know I hate it when you tell me I'm hurting you, I'm doing nothing' 'Cut me some slack, you know I'm seeing a therapist' and so much more verbal abuse that is not worth adding here.

Still, I didn't end it, because he was seeing both doctor and a therapist, so I thought maybe he'd change. This went on for another month, until I had my first panic attack trying to explain my feelings and how I'm hurt to him during an another fight. That's when I saw that enough is enough; I had never had a panic attack before, and especially not because of a person.

I distanced myself, but still, since he was seeing a doctor etc I didn't cut totally cut him off. A few days after my birthday, he cut me off because I didn't tell him that I was going out with girls. And that's that lol

So now I have huge problems with expressing my feelings that I didn't have before him🤓

I hope this was good enough, I know some people out there have it worse. But if I had to talk a traumatic experience, that would be it, I guess. Also, for anyone that's going through the similar thing, It is not worth it, guys. Get out of that thing whether it's a relationship or a friendship.

19) A fact about your personality

According to my friends, I'm too witty for them😭 I loved hearing it, hell yea call me witty.

27) A description of the girl/boy I like

Tehehehehehehehe.

God, I miss him. So, he is tall, brunette and he gives the perfect hugs. He has a big nose and the most beautiful green eyes. He is extremely smart, but not street smart tho😭 Also, he is funny, has a deep voice (which I'm crazy about) AND YOU SHOULD SEE HIS HANDS UGHHH. Again, I LOVE IT WHEN HE TOUCHES ME

#(⁠◍⁠•⁠ᴗ⁠•⁠◍⁠)⁠✧⁠*⁠。 #thank youu! #i had fun answering these #ily

[afr0-thunder]

[Poor Chronicles Pt. 19]

*BEHIND STARBUCKS EDITION*

Chicken Salad and Water Diet: Day Two! I didn’t drink water yesterday, just went to sleep. I picked up a double, so it was tiring. I wonder every day, “Will I have the energy to walk to/from work on this diet?”. Legs a little tired, but I say, “Yes!”. “Will I get hungry and buy something to eat and start a new diet?” and to that I say, “Well I’m not hungry now, so I don’t think I will.”.

My housemate’s hostility may be stemming from her inability to track my income. Over eating too many packs of fucking noodles? Sounds mildly crackhead-ish, but whatever. I just figured if she never asked, I never asked her about hers and we both did our part every month, there should be no issues. Incorrect. She must assume my income means I’d buy her food randomly like she’s done for me (when I didn’t work for the first couple months). Also incorrect. You’d figure after almost a year of offering more than what’s required, she’d catch on…and I bought snacks. Need to put an end to that too. Possibly her grandson (year older than me) mentioned my Instagram story about how when I got rich I was helping no one. Didn’t say her, but things change. Also, he provoked this mindset to be furthered. Before I worked this job, I was at another job (he runs a business, meets lots of famous people, has them buy things from him, takes pictures of them with it), he asked if I was “still working at that lil pizza place?”. Long story short, I know where I’m headed and gave him business advice that would help him save and even make more money going further (mostly ideas). He went back and forth with me. Said I sounded like my grandfather. Ended up almost rolling his eyes because of how persistent I was with proving my point and said, “You right! You just know everything”…because I don’t own my own business, I guess. I’m just saying a consumer would understand sales better than someone “above” them because we tend to notice things that a producer wouldn’t, as we don’t have to tend to hundreds of others. He just ended with “Okay well let’s see where I’m at in 2 years and where you’re at.” like a competition. I said, “Well seeing as though I haven’t gotten started on my career directly and you are about 10 years in on efforts almost, but more than 5 literally, that would almost be unfair.”.

He says, “3!”.

I say, “I would do 2, but okay we’ll see.”

I quit that job almost a year from today after 2 straight days of hostile arguments with the owner’s husband (my last manager). Almost a year later, I am doing better. Look forward to seeing how year two goes. Probably worse because why would it get better. Someone wants to see me doing bad, so they have to get their wish. It’ll still be great, just not to the average idiot, so “bad”.

I clocked in a few seconds too late, aware this means one of my enemies (I’m their’s) wants me to be late to everything or off timing. Endlessly pissed about being a minute off my OWN schedule, but also give no fuck about what they want.

My head coach mentioned how I worked a lot of hours last week and would probably be thrilled when I checked my pay stub. I didn’t check, nor did I get thrilled.

Today, she and my assistant coach asked when I was going to get a phone, so they could text me if they needed to reach me. I laughed and said, “Never.” (Have been laughing about this since I left work, forgot my exact word/words). I said I have a phone, (2, actually) it just doesn’t have service. I said they could always call the number I have on file (housemate’s). She said, “What if you get a hot date?”. I say, I’ll just have to meet her in person. On my walk home I realized, I still needed a method of contact. I decided not to give Mary my tumblr or Instagram like I first thought and will give her my email, so she doesn’t have to give me her email, in case she thinks I’m crazy (I am). I’ll just tell her that though.

My African American manager got pissed when I was washing lettuce and got him wet. I said, “That’s kind of feminine.”…because girls…get wet. I don’t think he caught on. He said, “You were a male cheerleader! That’s the most feminine sport.”

I said, “MALE cheerleader. Also, it’s soccer. They’re literally called ‘grass fairies’.”.

He said, “Female dominated.”

I said, “Cheerleading was started by males. Also, I could knock everyone on the field, off their field. I gave up football to do cheerleading and it got me through college, plus most of the teams I cheered for sucked. They came to see ME!”.

He shortly after explained this to a female coworker when I said, “First you called me a ‘half nigga’, now I’m a fag.”. She didn’t get the “wet” joke either. She thought it was cool that I was a cheerleader though. I’ve been there for almost a year and just never bring it up.

Savings: $29 > $49

I love being a Chicagoan everyday. This city is so beautiful.

There’s probably more, but I don’t remember it all.

My mother just messaged me…for the 6th time. I wish she would stop. Estranged. Eternally.

In short, craving noodles…hard! My unnamed house type constantly gets new ideas. I miss television, film and social media. This will be my last Starbucks post. I won’t be grocery shopping again, so I’ll move my posts to McDonald’s. I used to love coming home everyday now I hate living in hostility and want to move every single night, but I imagine I’ll have a year or two left here and my current job location (love my job, don’t get shit confused). I will check Week 6 scores next week for the NFL. My African American manager has told like 3 of my coworkers and a manager that I was cheerleader. Starving is not so hard.

- MH (2023)

[10/13/2023 - 6:13PM]

#personal #poor chronicles #poor #poverty #life #lesson #life lesson #life lessons #guidance #struggle #chicago #2023 #LilMark #PUNKAssMark #afr0-thunder

[auraravenora77]

Prologue | Chapter One | Chapter Two | Chapter Three | Chapter Four

Alycia Leveau "Lilithia"

Masterlist

Summary: A pregnant Verena has been dreaming and dealing with nerves about the upcoming weeks of the baby's arrival. The early arrival has gone awry as well as a new chapter of her life as a mom.

Warnings: None

Word Count: 1, 982

AN: Hello! It's my first prologue for the ongoing series before Alycia's transformation into Lilithia reincarnate. I like to sincerely apologize if this is short, messy or all over the place. Please let me know if you want to be in the taglist. I want to know what are your thoughts on it and enjoy reading this while you can!

Prologue

Verena's POV

19 years ago

A clawed hand was the last thing Verena had witnessed before she woke up alert and shook from the nightmares. Sitting upright, she took the moment by noticing the familiarity of her surroundings. The tension slowly leaves her shoulders as she rubs the back of her neck. Walking around the house seemed like a perfect idea for her. It would clear her mind and brighten the mood! Without alerting her husband, she moved silently out of the bed and went downstairs to grab a drink of water.

The kitchen usually eases her sour mood than most rooms in the house. She sat there with a drink in hand, her thoughts jumbled over the nightmares that repeat itself every night. Lost in thought and haunted by the nightmares, the image replayed in her head about the older demonic woman that had the same features of Verena and her husband. The eye color of pitch darkness was the only difference of the features. It seemed so real, but there was a possibility it could be the stress threatening to take over.

She shook off the horrifying nightmarish thoughts and focused on the now. In the early early trimester of discovering the pregnancy, the doctor did advise her about everything throughout the late stages of pregnancy, including one reason.

Nerves could be the main reason for her nightmares that plagued her mind. Ever since finding out about this new chapter of their lives, she has had the most horrifying fear of an early premature birth or a miscarriage. As the day of delivery nears in the upcoming few weeks, so did the whirlwind of emotions. Maybe it would be a perfect time to visit –

"Are you having nightmares again?"

A familiar voice abruptly interrupted Verena's thoughts as she almost jumped out of her seat. Turning around to see an apologetic expression from her endearing husband, it led him rushing to her side and console her with an embrace. Sweet words whispered in her ear as she felt immense relief washing over her. His hand rested on her swollen baby bump for some assurance. 

"I'm so sorry! I didn't mean to startle you and the baby," Sebastian spoke softly and calmly. He raised his eyes to exchange contact with hers. "Are you alright?"

"Yes I'm fine! You just startled me, that's all.." She honestly answered, chuckled softly. Her hand reached to caress his face so she could put him at ease. "As for your question earlier, yes I'm having those nightmares again.."

"We can make a phone call first thing in the morning tomorrow. Your doctor wouldn't mind helping –"

"No!" Verena interrupted him without even thinking. She exhaled and gave him a much calmer response, "It's alright! Everything will be fine with me and our baby. The nightmares will go away in no time.."

"Are you sure?" A curious Sebastian questioned her with his voice resonated with deep concern and wonder. "I could still do that if you change your mind.."

"Yes I am certain!" Verena reassured with a confirmation, her face broke out into a full smile as best as she could. It could manage to convince him even further. She resumed speaking in a lighthearted tone, "You should head upstairs to bed. I will be there with you after finishing this water.."

He hesitated for a moment to think things through. In the back of her mind, she hoped it would convince him enough to leave. It wasn't until his concerned demeanor changed to a much calmer one. The only response was a simple, "Alright.."

After a few moments later, it convinced him well enough to head upstairs and return to their bedroom. As soon as soft footsteps receded, a smile slipped from her face. A sense of loneliness almost returned to her side like a great friend. However, she glanced down to return her attention to her baby bump. She makes everything ought to be perfect with her and the baby. That was nothing but a promise!

Heading upstairs to the bedroom, the sight of this soft bed and silk sheets tempt her with more sleep. Exhaustion took over as soon as her head hit the soft pillows. Several minutes later, she drifted back to some more sleep alongside her husband. Thankfully, she slept throughout the night without any horrifying nightmares coming back around.

The Next Day

Hospitals meant many important things for people. As for the married couple Sebastian and Verena Flynn? They arrived with the baby's expected presence in the maternity ward of the hospital. It all started with a good and delicious morning breakfast. Verena offers to help out with almost everything despite being very pregnant. It extremely worries Sebastian for what she does because it might strain her but her reassurance calms him a bit. In the next hour of relaxing and movie watching, something occurred to her.

Hearing an unusual sound coming from her, he craned his neck to check up on his wife. A haunted look crossed her face. His eyes trailed down onto something more noticeable. A large puddle of water spilled out onto the water. As the growing realization dawned, he went pale. The look of immense surprise means one and one thing only: the early arrival of their newborn daughter. Her expected arrival was supposed to come late next month. In an urgent state of concern, he rushed her to the nearest hospital without any delays.

"Help! I need a doctor for my pregnant wife. She's currently in early labor.." Sebastian announced in a state of calmness despite the urgent situation involving the baby. That shout alerted a team of doctors who were obliged to assist a distressed Verena. Everything else was nothing but a chaotic blur.

Being in labor became more and more traumatic for them. After observing everything with her, It took the team of doctors to announce an emergency C-section. A nervous feeling came over her when the risks and outcomes might occur during that procedure. Doctors instantly took time and patience to bring the baby out. Simply how momentarily weak and drained Verena was, she seemed unaware of the chaos ensuing in the room between the doctors and a frantic Sebastian. Everything became blurry before she faded out of consciousness.

Verena woke up to the feeling of his fingers skimming along her skin, carefully checking my bandages as she lay in the familiar hospital room bed, full of tubes and heavy medicine that kept the pain away. A surprised expression formed on her face when she felt a sleepy Sebastian pressed against her in the spacious bed, one long arm draped closely over her waist as he rested his head on the crook of her neck. The stiff stir woke him up as it took him a few minutes to begin explaining everything about the events during the chaotic childbirth.

Worry etch on their faces as they await for the doctors to return with their baby. The amount of waiting felt like hours instead of minutes. It wasn't until doctors finally arrived in the room as they rolled down a familiar machine. The bright smile slowly fell from Verena's face. Their newborn was safely inside the Respirator ventilator, being hooked up to many devices including an Endotracheal Tube. A certain machine sounded weak beeps each and every second. It left them more than highly concerned.

"I want to say congratulations to you both on the birth of your child but I'm afraid to tell you some bad news. She has developed a rare but severe illness called Bronchopulmonary Dysplasia," said the doctor who informed them with the most horrible news. "She might not make it through the night if the lungs are extremely damaged and left untreated. We will place her in the NICU for safety measures later. If she does live, oxygen therapy is the greatest option before the lungs get damaged. For now, I can give you privacy to accompany the newborn to pray for her. I'll be right back to fetch the paperwork and medication!"

As the doctor leaves the room, an extremely shocked Verena and Sebastian recover quickly by clasping their hands and beginning to pray for the newborn. Positive thoughts remained in her head in the midst of the prayers. All she ever wanted was a healthy child held in her arms. She had dreamt it for the longest. Everything will get better for the married couple when this huge bump in the road passes miraculously. A sudden sound disrupted the silence in the midst of their prayers. The downhearted married couple heard shoes clack against the marble floor outside the room. It grew closer and closer until the sound stopped. Believing it was nothing but a nurse walking past, they continued to pray. A silent moment passed before her husband took immediate realization of the doctor's unexpected yet quick return.

"I thought you said we need some time alone.." Sebastian said, his voice was husky with sadness.

"I apologize for the early disruption, but I have returned with the paperwork and medication. It is nothing too painful for your baby, I assure you. It is just a simple procedure that will make her lungs healthier and stronger," The doctor informed them while managing to check the vitals. A look of satisfaction filled his features before he faced them with a question. "Do you accept this life-changing offer?"

"We accept.." Verena and Sebastian answered in unison as hope bubbled within them. They had to make that quick decision in order for their daughter to be completely healthy for the future.

"Very well! Let's get this started so my team and I will handle the rest." The doctor handed Sebastian an ordinary clipboard of a singular paper form and pen that was strangely shaped like a small scythe. Verena leaned forward to join him in assisting her husband. Within minutes, they thoroughly read the entire paperwork and scribble their signature on it.

Now that decision was successfully done, the doctor made the move to inject medication into the IV tube. In the next few minutes, the heart rate machine normally beeps. The sudden sound of the baby cries blessed their ears. She gasped in a stunning surprise at the sight. They gathered round with tears of joy and gratitude, scarcely daring to believe their eyes. What in the heavens was even in that medicine?

"Thank you so much! I don't know how you did it but I appreciate –" She cut herself off, returning her attention back to the doctor as jaw went slack. Her heart leapt to her throat. As a puzzled Sebastian followed her gaze, when he displayed a similar reaction as she did.

What stood on the doctor's place wasn't actually himself anymore. He was wearing a black hooded robe, covering everything except his face. This demonic man creature grew immensely larger than a regular man's actual size. He lowered himself to their level and gazed into her eyes. A cold demeanor retained upon him as everything about him didn't even look human, from the eye color to the sharp bone structure.

"I'll be seeing you in eighteen years from now. Spend precious time with her before I claim yours as an exchange.." threatened the ruthless stranger. His voice sounded guttural, the rasp of a demonic creature while drenched in a velvety undertone.

"Wait!" Verena weakly shouted, attempting to reach forward to stop him. What's holding her back was the exhaustion from the pushing of childbirth.

Sebastian springs into action just by spreading his arms to guard her. The stranger eyed the crying baby with an expression of annoyance before disappearing in an explosion of obsidian. It vanished within minutes before the actual doctor came in. Confused, then alarmed, crossed his face as he called for his team to assist with the newborn child. What in the world has Verena done?

#Alycia Leveau #The Lilithia Chronicles series #original writing #writing #creative writing #original content #original character #content writer #content writing

[missmentelle]

Why Smart People Believe Stupid Things

If you’ve been paying attention for the last couple of years, you might have noticed that the world has a bit of a misinformation problem. 

The problem isn’t just with the recent election conspiracies, either. The last couple of years has brought us the rise (and occasionally fall) of misinformation-based movements like:

Sandy Hook conspiracies

Gamergate

Pizzagate

The MRA/incel/MGTOW movements

anti-vaxxers

flat-earthers

the birther movement

the Illuminati 

climate change denial

Spygate

Holocaust denial 

COVID-19 denial 

5G panic 

QAnon 

But why do people believe this stuff?

It would be easy - too easy - to say that people fall for this stuff because they’re stupid. We all want to believe that smart people like us are immune from being taken in by deranged conspiracies. But it’s just not that simple. People from all walks of life are going down these rabbit holes - people with degrees and professional careers and rich lives have fallen for these theories, leaving their loved ones baffled. Decades-long relationships have splintered this year, as the number of people flocking to these conspiracies out of nowhere reaches a fever pitch. 

So why do smart people start believing some incredibly stupid things? It’s because:

Our brains are built to identify patterns. 

Our brains fucking love puzzles and patterns. This is a well-known phenomenon called apophenia, and at one point, it was probably helpful for our survival - the prehistoric human who noticed patterns in things like animal migration, plant life cycles and the movement of the stars was probably a lot more likely to survive than the human who couldn’t figure out how to use natural clues to navigate or find food. 

The problem, though, is that we can’t really turn this off. Even when we’re presented with completely random data, we’ll see patterns. We see patterns in everything, even when there’s no pattern there. This is why people see Jesus in a burnt piece of toast or get superstitious about hockey playoffs or insist on always playing at a certain slot machine - our brains look for patterns in the constant barrage of random information in our daily lives, and insist that those patterns are really there, even when they’re completely imagined. 

A lot of conspiracy theories have their roots in people making connections between things that aren’t really connected. The belief that “vaccines cause autism” was bolstered by the fact that the first recognizable symptoms of autism happen to appear at roughly the same time that children receive one of their rounds of childhood immunizations - the two things are completely unconnected, but our brains have a hard time letting go of the pattern they see there. Likewise, many people were quick to latch on to the fact that early maps of COVID infections were extremely similar to maps of 5G coverage -  the fact that there’s a reasonable explanation for this (major cities are more likely to have both high COVID cases AND 5G networks) doesn’t change the fact that our brains just really, really want to see a connection there. 

Our brains love proportionality. 

Specifically, our brains like effects to be directly proportional to their causes - in other words, we like it when big events have big causes, and small causes only lead to small events. It’s uncomfortable for us when the reverse is true. And so anytime we feel like a “big” event (celebrity death, global pandemic, your precious child is diagnosed with autism) has a small or unsatisfying cause (car accident, pandemics just sort of happen every few decades, people just get autism sometimes), we sometimes feel the need to start looking around for the bigger, more sinister, “true” cause of that event. 

Consider, for instance, the attempted assassination of Pope John Paul II. In 1981, Pope John Paul II was shot four times by a Turkish member of a known Italian paramilitary secret society who’d recently escaped from prison - on the surface, it seems like the sort of thing conspiracy theorists salivate over, seeing how it was an actual multinational conspiracy. But they never had much interest in the assassination attempt. Why? Because the Pope didn’t die. He recovered from his injuries and went right back to Pope-ing. The event didn’t have a serious outcome, and so people are content with the idea that one extremist carried it out. The death of Princess Diana, however, has been fertile ground for conspiracy theories; even though a woman dying in a car accident is less weird than a man being shot four times by a paid political assassin, her death has attracted more conspiracy theories because it had a bigger outcome. A princess dying in a car accident doesn’t feel big enough. It’s unsatisfying. We want such a monumentous moment in history to have a bigger, more interesting cause. 

These theories prey on pre-existing fear and anger. 

Are you a terrified new parent who wants the best for their child and feels anxious about having them injected with a substance you don’t totally understand? Congrats, you’re a prime target for the anti-vaccine movement. Are you a young white male who doesn’t like seeing more and more games aimed at women and minorities, and is worried that “your” gaming culture is being stolen from you? You might have been very interested in something called Gamergate. Are you a right-wing white person who worries that “your” country and way of life is being stolen by immigrants, non-Christians and coastal liberals? You’re going to love the “all left-wingers are Satantic pedo baby-eaters” messaging of QAnon. 

Misinformation and conspiracy theories are often aimed strategically at the anxieties and fears that people are already experiencing. No one likes being told that their fears are insane or irrational; it’s not hard to see why people gravitate towards communities that say “yes, you were right all along, and everyone who told you that you were nuts to be worried about this is just a dumb sheep. We believe you, and we have evidence that you were right along, right here.” Fear is a powerful motivator, and you can make people believe and do some pretty extreme things if you just keep telling them “yes, that thing you’re afraid of is true, but also it’s way worse than you could have ever imagined.”

Real information is often complicated, hard to understand, and inherently unsatisfying. 

The information that comes from the scientific community is often very frustrating for a layperson; we want science to have hard-and-fast answers, but it doesn’t. The closest you get to a straight answer is often “it depends” or “we don’t know, but we think X might be likely”. Understanding the results of a scientific study with any confidence requires knowing about sampling practices, error types, effect sizes, confidence intervals and publishing biases. Even asking a simple question like “is X bad for my child” will usually get you a complicated, uncertain answer - in most cases, it really just depends. Not understanding complex topics makes people afraid - it makes it hard to trust that they’re being given the right information, and that they’re making the right choices. 

Conspiracy theories and misinformation, on the other hand, are often simple, and they are certain. Vaccines bad. Natural things good. 5G bad. Organic food good. The reason girls won’t date you isn’t a complex combination of your social skills, hygiene, appearance, projected values, personal circumstances, degree of extroversion, luck and life phase - girls won’t date you because feminism is bad, and if we got rid of feminism you’d have a girlfriend. The reason Donald Trump was an unpopular president wasn’t a complex combination of his public bigotry, lack of decorum, lack of qualifications, open incompetence, nepotism, corruption, loss of soft power, refusal to uphold the basic responsibilities of his position or his constant lying - they hated him because he was fighting a secret sex cult and they’re all in it. 

Instead of making you feel stupid because you’re overwhelmed with complex information, expert opinions and uncertain advice, conspiracy theories make you feel smart - smarter, in fact, than everyone who doesn’t believe in them. And that’s a powerful thing for people living in a credential-heavy world. 

Many conspiracy theories are unfalsifiable. 

It is very difficult to prove a negative. If I tell you, for instance, that there’s no such thing as a purple swan, it would be very difficult for me to actually prove that to you - I could spend the rest of my life photographing swans and looking for swans and talking to people who know a lot about swans, and yet the slim possibility would still exist that there was a purple swan out there somewhere that I just hadn’t found yet. That’s why, in most circumstances, the burden of proof lies with the person making the extraordinary claim - if you tell me that purple swans exist, we should continue to assume that they don’t until you actually produce a purple swan. 

Conspiracy theories, however, are built so that it’s nearly impossible to “prove” them wrong. Is there any proof that the world’s top-ranking politicians and celebrities are all in a giant child sex trafficking cult? No. But can you prove that they aren’t in a child sex-trafficking cult? No, not really. Even if I, again, spent the rest of my life investigating celebrities and following celebrities and talking to people who know celebrities, I still couldn’t definitely prove that this cult doesn’t exist - there’s always a chance that the specific celebrities I’ve investigated just aren’t in the cult (but other ones are!) or that they’re hiding evidence of the cult even better than we think. Lack of evidence for a conspiracy theory is always treated as more evidence for the theory - we can’t find anything because this goes even higher up than we think! They’re even more sophisticated at hiding this than we thought! People deeply entrenched in these theories don’t even realize that they are stuck in a circular loop where everything seems to prove their theory right - they just see a mountain of “evidence” for their side. 

Our brains are very attached to information that we “learned” by ourselves.

Learning accurate information is not a particularly interactive or exciting experience. An expert or reliable source just presents the information to you in its entirety, you read or watch the information, and that’s the end of it. You can look for more information or look for clarification of something, but it’s a one-way street - the information is just laid out for you, you take what you need, end of story. 

Conspiracy theories, on the other hand, almost never show their hand all at once. They drop little breadcrumbs of information that slowly lead you where they want you to go. This is why conspiracy theorists are forever telling you to “do your research” - they know that if they tell you everything at once, you won’t believe them. Instead, they want you to indoctrinate yourself slowly over time, by taking the little hints they give you and running off to find or invent evidence that matches that clue. If I tell you that celebrities often wear symbols that identify them as part of a cult and that you should “do your research” about it, you can absolutely find evidence that substantiates my claim - there are literally millions of photos of celebrities out there, and anyone who looks hard enough is guaranteed to find common shapes, poses and themes that might just mean something (they don’t - eyes and triangles are incredibly common design elements, and if I took enough pictures of you, I could also “prove” that you also clearly display symbols that signal you’re in the cult). 

The fact that you “found” the evidence on your own, however, makes it more meaningful to you. We trust ourselves, and we trust that the patterns we uncover by ourselves are true. It doesn’t feel like you’re being fed misinformation - it feels like you’ve discovered an important truth that “they” didn’t want you to find, and you’ll hang onto that for dear life. 

Older people have not learned to be media-literate in a digital world. 

Fifty years ago, not just anyone could access popular media. All of this stuff had a huge barrier to entry - if you wanted to be on TV or be in the papers or have a radio show, you had to be a professional affiliated with a major media brand. Consumers didn’t have easy access to niche communities or alternative information - your sources of information were basically your local paper, the nightly news, and your morning radio show, and they all more or less agreed on the same set of facts. For decades, if it looked official and it appeared in print, you could probably trust that it was true. 

Of course, we live in a very different world today - today, any asshole can accumulate an audience of millions, even if they have no credentials and nothing they say is actually true (like “The Food Babe”, a blogger with no credentials in medicine, nutrition, health sciences, biology or chemistry who peddles health misinformation to the 3 million people who visit her blog every month). It’s very tough for older people (and some younger people) to get their heads around the fact that it’s very easy to create an “official-looking” news source, and that they can’t necessarily trust everything they find on the internet. When you combine that with a tendency toward “clickbait headlines” that often misrepresent the information in the article, you have a generation struggling to determine who they can trust in a media landscape that doesn’t at all resemble the media landscape they once knew. 

These beliefs become a part of someone’s identity. 

A person doesn’t tell you that they believe in anti-vaxx information - they tell you that they ARE an anti-vaxxer. Likewise, people will tell you that they ARE a flat-earther, a birther, or a Gamergater. By design, these beliefs are not meant to be something you have a casual relationship with, like your opinion of pizza toppings or how much you trust local weather forecasts - they are meant to form a core part of your identity. 

And once something becomes a core part of your identity, trying to make you stop believing it becomes almost impossible. Once we’ve formed an initial impression of something, facts just don’t change our minds. If you identify as an antivaxxer and I present evidence that disproves your beliefs, in your mind, I’m not correcting inaccurate information - I am launching a very personal attack against a core part of who you are. In fact, the more evidence I present, the more you will burrow down into your antivaxx beliefs, more confident than ever that you are right. Admitting that you are wrong about something that is important to you is painful, and your brain would prefer to simply deflect conflicting information rather than subject you to that pain.

We can see this at work with something called the confirmation bias. Simply put, once we believe something, our brains hold on to all evidence that that belief is true, and ignore evidence that it’s false. If I show you 100 articles that disprove your pet theory and 3 articles that confirm it, you’ll cling to those 3 articles and forget about the rest. Even if I show you nothing but articles that disprove your theory, you’ll likely go through them and pick out any ambiguous or conflicting information as evidence for “your side”, even if the conclusion of the article shows that you are wrong - our brains simply care about feeling right more than they care about what is actually true.  

There is a strong community aspect to these theories. 

There is no one quite as supportive or as understanding as a conspiracy theorist - provided, of course, that you believe in the same conspiracy theories that they do. People who start looking into these conspiracy theories are told that they aren’t crazy, and that their fears are totally valid. They’re told that the people in their lives who doubted them were just brainwashed sheep, but that they’ve finally found a community of people who get where they’re coming from. Whenever they report back to the group with the “evidence” they’ve found or the new elaborations on the conspiracy theory that they’ve been thinking of (“what if it’s even worse than we thought??”), they are given praise for their valuable contributions. These conspiracy groups often become important parts of people’s social networks - they can spend hours every day talking with like-minded people from these communities and sharing their ideas. 

Of course, the flipside of this is that anyone who starts to doubt or move away from the conspiracy immediately loses that community and social support. People who have broken away from antivaxx and QAnon often say that the hardest part of leaving was losing the community and friendships they’d built - not necessarily giving up on the theory itself. Many people are rejected by their real-life friends and family once they start to get entrenched in conspiracy theories; the friendships they build online in the course of researching these theories often become the only social supports they have left, and losing those supports means having no one to turn to at all. This is by design - the threat of losing your community has kept people trapped in abusive religious sects and cults for as long as those things have existed. 

#missmentelle #askmissmentelle #conspiracy theories #cults #psychology #science #neuroscience

[bump1nthen1ght]

Late Night Favor (Shadow Monster x Reader)

Genre: Fluff, Urban Fantasy

Warnings: Explicit content up ahead (18+ ONLY), Oral, Fingering

Word Count: 4000 Words

Summary: A couple of small good deeds leaves you with a late night visitor, looking to repay a debt.

Request: "You unknowingly rescue a shadow monster and bring it home with you, after a couple days of lurking in the shadows of your home and recuperating it shows you just how thankful it is." I had this idea forever ago but was never able to execute it. My opening idea was that a few kids are shining flashlights at something, tormenting it, and you swoop in to save it and chase the kids away. You thought they were hurting a cat or something, but find nothing and head home.

What do you think? Would you like to take it on? I'd be honored if you would 😊

A/N: *Throws this into the street to appease for the fact I haven’t updated Out of the Woods in THREE MONTHS IM SORRY*

It was the perfect weather for a lazy day inside. The pitter patter of the rain on your window had almost lulled you back to sleep during breakfast, and the thunder had provided great ambiance for reading. You hadn’t bothered changing out of your pajamas and we’re enjoying a soap opera binge on the coach when the peace was disturbed.

At first it was just the sound of clattering trash cans, not uncommon from the alley outside your window. But then it was followed by the raucous laughter of teenagers, rocks being thrown against the concrete, and a sharp hissing.

You hoist yourself up and off the couch, meandering toward the balcony, expecting to see a bunch of kids fucking around; Maybe using the cover of the fire escape to hide from the rain and smoke some weed.

Ah, memories.

But instead, you see a huddled group of boys pointing a flashlight into the pile of garbage right by the dumpster. One of them picks up a pebble and throws it into the light beam, causing another hiss and a jerk of movement. The boys laugh even louder, the one on the right nudging the one with the flashlight.

“Dude, do it again!”

Flashlight agrees, quickly moving the light into another corner as the one on the left throws a rock in the opposite direction. A shape of pitch black hisses again, deterred by the rock and scared by the brightness. Your brow furrows.

“Hey!”

The boys jump, looking in all directions.

“What are you three doing down there?” They finally look up at you, messy-haired and bleary-eyed. They shrug and ignore you, one even throwing another rock, bigger than before. There’s a sad yelp as it collides with the blackness.

You grit your teeth, grabbing your jacket off a nearby shelf and yell again.

“Fuck off! Leave the poor thing alone!”

They all laugh insufferably, the way most stuck up teenagers do.

“Or what?”

You shrug on your raincoat, picking up the baseball bat you keep strategically placed by your couch.

“Or I’ll come down and make you, jackass!”

You kick open your  fire escape, slippers already damp, and start marching down the staircases. The boys get the message and run away, still jeering and laughing. Seems you weren’t as intimidating as you’d like.

You shuffle down the fire escape, slowing down as you approach the poor creature. You lower your back and peak under the dumpster.

“It's okay, little guy, I won’t hurt ya.” You set down your bat and crouch, kissing your lips as you hold out your free hand. All you see is a hint of glowing eyes, nervously peering out, before the dark shape disappears completely, hidden by the shadow of the dumpster. You’re tempted to sit down and wait for it, hoping to check if the poor stray was injured, but the wet concrete looks unappealing. The bottom of your sweats are already drenched.

You stand up, sigh, and go back up the fire escape. You unlatch the dusty pet door on your sliding glass balcony and make sure to leave a hot thing of milk and some water just outside. You ponder going out to get cat food, but the well-timed weather report tells you to stay off the streets. Slumping back down on the couch, you keep on eye on your fire escape, hoping that whatever it was, it’s okay.

--------------

The next day is sunny, the rain clearing away any air pollution and leaving blue skies to shine down through your window, waking you up extra early. As you sit down with a cup of coffee, switching on the news before starting work, you notice the empty bowls on your balcony.

You set down the mug, walking over to the door and checking the bowls. Seems that little stray had needed the refreshment, as both were licked clean.

You refill them, making sure to add  cat food to your grocery list.

--------------

After a long day of work, you’re feeling particularly domestic and decide to bake some cookies. Your brain is sore after staring at a screen for eight hours straight, a simple task like this is the perfect thing to keep it from melting completely.

You open up your window, letting the cool night air into your kitchen as you check  on your baking cookies. Wiping flour off your pants, you turn on the radio and throw a glance to your living room.

You had set up a tiny blanket pallet right next to your pet door, the weatherman’s warning of another thunderstorm tonight having you worried for your stray. Hopefully a full belly of milk will convince them that your house is safe enough to find shelter in.

But the afternoon is beautiful, not too cold and not too hot, only the slight tang of metal in the air hinting to rain. With a ding from the oven, you take out the cookies and set them on a cooling tray on your window. The smell of cinnamon and sugar wafts over you as you take a sip of your tea, staring out into the city streets. Small puddles still speckle the pavement, catching the headlights of nearby cars and flashy billboards.

A quick sound, something hitting your balcony door, that jerks you out of your reverie. You set down your mug and slowly peek out from your kitchen, wondering if you should’ve grabbed  a kitchen knife. But it’s just your pet door, flapping back and forth in front of two, now empty, bowls. Aww, seems your stray took a step inside. Too bad you missed it.

The gurgle of your stomach convinces you to take a crack at the cookies. If they were too hot, you could just wash them down with a nice glass of milk anyway. Maybe even put on a sitcom while you snack.

You lightly tap the top cookie; Warm, but not unbearable. Steam rises as you break it open, blowing in the middle and taking a tiny bite.

Fuck, good job _____.

They’re perfectly done, just soft enough to melt in your mouth. You grab two more, holding them in between your fingers as you hold the other half in your mouth. Maybe you could bring the batch into work tomorrow, give your coworkers a nice surprise. That is if you didn't have 10 tonight. But 20 should be just enough-

Huh, that’s weird. There's only 19, including the one still dangling out of your mouth.

You could’ve sworn you baked 20.

Well whatever. Your coworkers can handle not coming back for seconds tomorrow.

--------------

“Ow! Fuck!”

You bite your lip, trying not to yell out more curse words as you rub your stubbed toe. You limp to your kitchen, fumbling for the light switch to avoid another incident. All you had wanted was a midnight sweet snack, was that so difficult? You’d thought you could navigate your apartment pretty easily in the dark, but the pain in your foot says otherwise.

The light flickers as you finally find the switch, reminding you that you’re going to need to change the bulb sometime soon. But that's a problem for another day; Right now, it’s cookie time.

You don’t bother pouring yourself a glass or getting a plate, devouring the treat in three bites and throwing back a quick swig of milk. It’s almost midnight, not like anyone’s watching-

Oh, wait.

You slowly close the fridge door, trying to make as little noise as possible so as not to wake the little stray curled up, asleep. The little ball of black was snuggled into the pallet, tossing and turning. A flash of lightning cracks outside your apartment, washing your living room with light. The ball jerks in shock, the thunder afterwards only frightening it more, forcing it to curl up even tighter.  

You take small and light steps towards the tiny bed, not wanting to approach the scared beast too quickly. The room is lit up again by another lightning strike and the little stray forces it’s body backwards and away from the window. You crouch down real low, the small bits of light helping your eyes adjust to the layout.

“How are you doing, little guy?” You whisper, mostly to yourself, tapping your fingers against your carpet. Part of you wants to pet it, but think it might be better not to. No need to startle it. “Is the lightning scary? You can come to my room if you want, I’ll protect ya.”

Midst the black, you see two little eyes, little blips of light that open with another flash of lightning. But they aren’t yellow, nor are they slitted, nor are they anything remotely animal.

They're like the headlights of a car, blinding white with no definition at all. Not even pupils. You're startled, eye’s widening as the creature lifts it’s head. A long smile runs across their face, full of razor sharp teeth.

“Oh my, that sounds delightful.” They purr, and you find yourself losing your footing and falling back on your ass. Your fingers dig into the carpet as their body slowly begins to unfurl out of a ball and stretch into a massive form, as if their whole size had been hidden away somewhere else; Like it had been literally in the shadows.

You scramble backwards, breath picking up as the creature stretches it’s long limbs, colorless eyes still locked onto you as it stands up and up. It rolls back its shoulders as it sits on its haunches, its form still towering over you even when crouched. You notice the shades of huge antlers sticking out from the side of their head, only adding to their intimidating height.

The creature still has that terrifying smile, all canines and no molars, it’s unblinking eyes still staring deep into your soul.

You’ve heard people do weird things in times of high stress, of strong emotions, good and bad. Like the wires in your brains get crossed when trying to find the right response.

“Uh, do you want a cookie?”

You think you get that now.

The creature chuckles, a soft timbre that echoes unnaturally.

“No, dearie, I have already indulged in your confections. You see,” They creature leans forward, falling to its knees to crawl towards you. If it weren’t for the overwhelming fear constricting your heart, you’d almost think it was seductive, “You’ve done so much for me these past days, I think it’d be only fair if I helped you indulge in a far-” The creature’s face looms over yours, their arms caging your sides as they lick their lips, “-sweeter treat, yes?”

Your eyes search their face, trying to find signs of trickery or malice, maybe even some demonic sense of humor.

As if I’d even know what that looks like.

“Are you-” You catch a breath, now noticing the fine musculature of their shoulders, and the definition of their arms, “Are you propositioning me, like, for sex?”

The creature laughs again, their eyes crinkling up as they throw their head back. But when they look back down at you, you can almost feel the lust radiating off their gaze, details be damned.

“Yes, lovely, I am.”

You take your eyes off their face, a little too overwhelmed to stare directly into their blistering expression. Not to mention the blinding light which has begun to put red spots into your vision.

Instead, your eyes fall upon their thick thighs, the small tail waving behind them, and how unnervingly sexy you find the way their claws are digging up your rug.

You slowly move your head, catching the creature’s eyes.

“I-uh-I guess? Yeah, yeah I guess that sounds good. Um, what was your name?”

The creature smirks, a single claw tipped finger tilting up your chin, as they whisper,

“Nocter.”

--------------

Well, this is definitely the weirdest way I’ve gotten someone into bed.

Nocter’s antlers brush against your stucco-ceiling as it pushes you down on the bed, their shining white eyes staring deep into yours. Their lack of pupils is almost unsettling, but when they run their claws down your chest and pinch your nipples, you find it hard to care. You bite your lip, fighting back an embarrassing whimper as they trace one finger around the bud, pebbling the skin.

“Aww, has it been a while, sweetling?” You roll your eyes, but let out another squeak as they flick their thumb across your other nipple, the palm of their hand pressing against your ribcage.

“M-maybe.” You mutter, digging your finger into your bed sheets as their hands dance across your skin. One pulls up the bottom of your pajama shirt as it nudges one of their legs in between your thighs, pushing their knee up against your crotch.

“Don’t worry,” They push the fabric up to your neck, laying a kiss on the center of your stomach, then your chest, and then your jugular. When they plant one on your jaw, they lean in real close, “I’ll make sure to treat you right.”

Nocter’s long tongue splays against your jaw, licking a stripe up your cheek as one of their hands moves from your chest to the waistband of your shorts. They slip a couple fingers underneath, lightly petting the area right above your crotch. They’re such a tease, and you love it.

Nocter pecks the side of your face, over and over, while their hand moves further and further down your body at an agonizing pace. Their hot breath sends goosebumps down your neck, washing over your face as they exhale with every kiss. You catch them off guard when you turn your head toward them, catching their lips-mid peck and eagerly sticking your tongue outward. They purr with delight, their thin almost-lips quickly devouring you.

A long string of saliva connects the two of you as you detach, taking the time to shimmy out of your shirt. You pull them closer, your hands digging into their shoulder muscles and fingers just brushing over the long ridges on their back. They chuckle once again, pulling their fingers out your shorts and merely digging their palm into the fabric of your crotch.

“Eager, huh?”

“Shut up,” You mumble in between kisses, “This is for me, isn’t it?”

“Ohoho,” kiss, “Someone’s showing their feisty side a little early.” kiss, “What happened to my benevolent, saintly saviour?” kiss.

You pull away from their lips, quickly latching onto the crux of their neck and taking a nip. “S’not fair.” You say, taking a deep whiff of their skin as you suck and bite. They smell like brimstone and a bonfire, not quite what you 're expecting, but not unpleasant. “You can’t tease me like that and not-” Your cut off as the pad of one Nocters fingers presses up against your entrance, the fabric only amplifying the sensation as they begin to tease it.

“Deliver?” Nocter finishes, sinfully smug. You throw them a glare. “I’m a good guest, scout’s honor.”

You roll your eyes right before they lock you into another kiss, rubbing the pads of their fingers up and down your crotch. They use their hand to push you backwards, sinking deeper into the mattress as they situate their knees under your thighs. One they pull back from the kiss, your face and lips thoroughly debauched, your legs are splayed up on their pelvis and they easily slip off your bottoms. Nocter takes a whiff of your underwear, the crotch now slightly damp, giving you a wink before they throw it over their shoulder.

You jerk your hips slightly upward, and Nocter tuts.

“Patience, sweetling.” They roll a hand down your abdomen, fingers splaying onto your stomach, nails just teasing the skin. With a kiss to your inside calf, Nocters hand ghosts across your entrance. You can’t help biting your lip, the heat and their touch sending your mind into a frenzy.

They continue a path of kisses down your leg, now pressing their finger right up against your hole. They only pause to suck on their index and middle fingers, coating them with a heavy and blue-tinted saliva. Once they’ve reached the middle of your thigh, nipping at the apex, they sink into you.

Nocter’s fingers are long, articulated and move with sure movements. They start off slow, scissoring you open, simpering as you dig your nails into your bed sheets. The pads of their fingers push against your walls, just grazing sensitive spots as they make a slow ‘come hither’ motion. Your hips jerk forward, humping into their palm. They smirk against your skin, nipping another love bite as they retract their fingers until only the tip remains. You catch your breath, holding it until they sink back into you, shoving their fingers forward with far more force.

You whimper as their fingers pull back, only to follow with quicker thrusts. Nocter’s aim is pin-point in finding the most pleasurable spots inside you, the feeling only amplified by the pinpricks of their teeth into the fat of your thigh. The tip of their tongue licks hot trails of spit tantalizingly close to your hole, which clenches around their bony fingers. The slick sound of your juices, the skin of their palm slapping against yours, is downright pornographic.

Your legs try to clamp around their shoulders, the overwhelming stimuli triggering an instant reaction, but Nocter pins your right leg down to your bed easily, never losing focus on fingering you. The tips of their claws trace the inside of your leg, the hard edge of their wrist digging into fat.  Your fingers reach to grip around something, anything to keep you grounded as the knot in your stomach grows tighter and tighter. They find their way around Nocter’s left wrist; You’re almost afraid you’ll leave bruises, before remembering how sturdy every part of their body seems to be.

You let out a whimper as the crests of an orgasm seem to overwhelm you, nearly gasping as Nocter quickly removes their fingers. In any other state of mind you might have made a comment, look down and wonder why they’ve stopped. But the heat in your belly compels you to grip their wrist tight and to throw your hips upwards. With a desperate breath, you plead,

“P-please! Please, don’t stop.”

Nocter doesn’t chuckle, doesn’t make a sly remark about your neediness or your lewd movements. They lean forward, giving another kiss right below your navel, and pet your wrist.

“Of course, dearie.”

With a wink, they lean down a lick a long stripe up your hole, giving one last kiss to your leg before plunging their tongue inside.

You didn’t think it was possible for them to reach even deeper inside you with their tongue than their fingers, but the sparks which fly in your core say otherwise. The ridges of Nocters tongue brush against your walls as they flick the appendage back and forth, the tip pressing forward with controlled motions. It doesn’t thrash back and forward haphazardly, but reaches for those sensitive spots and plays with them.

“Oh, f-fuck!” You yelp, feeling an icy-cold liquid run down your ass. From the sound of smacking lips and muffled moans, it must be Nocter’s saliva. They let out a groan, pushing their jaw forward as their eyes clenched shut. The hand on your leg pinches skin as it tightens up, the other pressing your hips down, but the pressure they apply is phantom at best. Nocter seems to revel in your pleading humps for more, meeting each movement with a thrust of their jaw, the base of their tongue stretching you open.

The two of you keep that rhythm for what feels like an eternity, but is probably only a couple of minutes. Sweat drips down your chest and off of your belly, your legs muscles on fire as you continue to push upward and into Nocter’s face. You start feeling that impending wave begin to crest again, with your limbs shaking and your throat hoarse.

“Nocter, I’m gonna cum. I’m gonna-I’m so close!”

This time, Nocter doesn’t let up on their pace, reaching one hand down to deliver a hard slap on your ass and forcing a yelp out of you. Your speech devolves into slurred curses and your hands move to touch them, to find some grasp in reality. Nocter continues to suck and tongue-fuck your hole as your thighs clench around their head. Your humps are tiny and weak, your lower half barely holding itself up.

The knot gets tighter, a firecracker fuse about to blow in your abdomen. In the heat of the moment, your hands find their way to Nocter’s scalp and grab onto the base of their antlers. Their moan rumbles through you, right before you yank their head forward, their tongue hitting the deepest part of you as you shutter and-

“I’m cumming!”

Another moan vibrates against your hole as your body shudders and jolts, your hips still pressed firmly against Nocter’s face. But in the next moment, a heavy weight falls over your body, slumping you down onto the bed. Your chest heaves, eye’s fuzzy as Nocter’s tongue ‘pop’s out of you.

Your gaze wanders over your stucco ceiling, droplets of sweat rolling down your neck as you try and catch your breath. You can feel Nocter’s large hands rolling a massage into your thighs, their own heavy breathing brushing over your crotch.

A fuzzy shape of pure black comes into your vision as Nocter hovers over you, their body hovering just an inch above yours. They give you a small peck on the cheek.

“Feel good?” They whisper.

All you can do is nod, your shaky hands wandering over their back. There’s no sign of sweat on their skin, but you can feel the heat running off of it as they nuzzle into your neck.

As your fingers dance over the ride of their back, you can hear the rumble of a low purr coming from their chest, but they stay hovering over your body. You press your hands into their back, applying weak pressure to encourage them to relax.

“It seems I’ve repaid my debt.” Nocter murmurs into your ear, pushing themselves up onto their hands, pulling even farther from you as their eye’s look around your room. You keep your hands wrapped around their waist, stopping them from fully getting up. They look back to you, white eyes slightly widening.

“Would you-” You take another deep breath, “Want to stay? For the night?”

Nocter stares at you, the black void of their face almost unreadable. But when they run a claw down the side of your face, it burns with affection and longing.

“Would you want that?”

Your room is nearly pitch black, only the lights of the street peeking in between your curtains. Nocter’s body seems to absorb all light near it, their hot body like a heating pad. But their eyes are so bright, so full, so mesmerizing; Like a full moon on the dark city sky.

“Yes, I would.”

Nocter’s nods, their expression barely changing, but you think you can see a hint of a smile amidst all the black. They let their body relax, pressing their chest against yours as they sink into the sheets and nuzzle back into your neck.

You can smell the sweat coating your body and feel the way you stick to the sheets. Frankly, the both of you kind of smell.

But it doesn’t stop you from snuggling into Nocter’s body, eye’s heavy as you peacefully fall into sleep.

#my writing #gender neutral reader #shadow monster #monster/human #monster x reader

[carnal-lnstinct]

𝑇𝘩𝑒 𝑤𝑎𝑦 𝑦𝑜𝑢 𝑠𝑎𝑖𝑑 "𝐼 𝐿𝑜𝑣𝑒 𝑌𝑜𝑢".

Summary: A series of short one-shots inspired by this prompt, 1-35. I am not going to write all the prompts and I will not be writing them in order, but based off inspiration. To fuel my “horny on main” I may focus mainly on writing for Goku but there may be a few with other characters. Not all fics will be suitable for all ages. Minors should not interact with prompts rated mature/18+.

Completed Prompts:  2 / 4 / 16 / 19 / 20 / 21 / 34

19. With no space left between us 

Pairing: Goku x Female Reader Rating: M/18+ Warning: ( explicit language, mentions of alcohol drinking ) A/N: We can all agree Goku in casual clothing does something appealing for him. Also Raditz is a Z fighter because I say so, it’s just the way it is. 1/2/2022 Update: idk how all the paragraphs got mixed up, I assume it came from trying to fix something while on mobile instead of desktop but it should be fixed now.

Anyone who had the chance to attend a Bulma Brief’s party knew that the possibility of something wild happening was a guarantee. Ancient gods of destructions showing up, a chance to win a wish on magical dragon balls or an entire castle, a drunken Great Saiyaman breaking out in dance for his daughter, Piccolo acting as the head chef of the meat buffet & grilling section. Pretty much anything considered unusual felt right at home for such a grand function with the friends you had. 

You ending up in a Gazebo for a quickie with Goku was not expected. But you were not surprised. You may have set yourself up for it. You had been pining for him in his party getup since you picked it out for him prior to your arrival. It was so rare to see him in something other than one of his gis for a change you couldn’t help but ogle him throughout the party. Casual clothing shaped out his body in a way a loose gi could not. You didn’t mean to get such a formfitting top for him but it flattered him so well you couldn’t bear the idea of having to return it. Or have him take it off. He did complain about it being tight, but you encouraged him to just wear it for the party.

You could really make out the muscles in his upper body, broad chest and shoulders protruding by default, and the definition in his back all leading down to his trim waist were really hard to not admire him. It must have been fate for him to wear it as you noticed Raditz had worn something almost similar but clearly on purpose to show off his larger, toned physique. If you ever get the chance to meet their father, you would thank him for what he put out into the universe with his two sons.

When the compliments to Goku’s outfit change started to roll in, you admittedly started to feel a little possessive and handsy. The amount of cocktails you started getting into after dinner helped that along the way as well. After you drank your inhibitions away you were practically starting to undress him right in the middle of conversing with the others when his outfit became the topic of discussion. It humbled him just a little to have you so openly glorify his body with such vulgar words and touch on him like that in front of his friends. Your tone could have made even Old Man Roshi seem like a prude in comparison. Goku never really gave thought to having his body for the sake of appearing attractive but to also hear Bulma and a few other female partygoers agree at least opened his mind to the thought that maybe he was. He guesses it was nice to know but still didn't care that much about it, especially if didn't get to wear what he wanted. The Ox Princess agreed without hesitation. Blonde Launch’s words sounded like a compliment but the way she snuffed Raditz’s outfit in the same breath was up for debate on her stance, and of course, Mrs. Brief was always one to flatter. Android 18... Well, she had better things to worry about and stood indifferent on the topic. She didn't say no, though.

How lucky you felt to be married to a man like this, so modest and handsome and sadly oblivious to the effect he was having on you just by being himself. Goku simply chalked up your affectionate behavior to your frivolous drinking.

 When Goku made the suggestion you stop drinking for the rest of the party and sleep off your buzz until it was time to go, you played him right into your hands as you asked him to take you to “walk it off” through Mrs. Brief’s garden maze instead. You waited until you were nice and deep into the path before you stole a kiss from him, heavy with the desire you could barely contain from him all day. Your hands started to work on his belt when he grabbed your wrists and raised your arms away.

“(Y/N), what are you doing?! You can’t do that here!”

“But I wanna..” You whined provocatively, leaning to kiss at the exposed skin of his neck. “Don’t you know how irresistible you look in this..” 

“C’mon, you gotta pull yourself together, hun..” Goku attempted to reason with you, though not pulling away from your affection. “We can do it at home. Then it can all come off for good, okay?” 

“I can’t wait that long..” You leapt to stand on your toes and claimed his lips again, this time with less resistance. Having a wife like you was bad for his chivalry, really. Or maybe when his Grandpa told him to always be nice to girls, he should have warned him of grown women who knew how to be more than nice in return. He couldn’t deny your secret grabbing and bold statements about him all evening didn’t have some rousing effect on him as much as you flustering him. He was just sober and able to hide it, unlike you. When it came to you it was hard to deny any feeling you planted in his body. Goku then released your hands and cupped the back of your head to better reciprocate your hungry kiss.

“Fine, but just for a sec okay?” He agreed in between your kiss. Your hands worked his pants open and found purchase in his already hard cock. You don’t get to play with it for long as he lifts you up and holds your legs on each side of his hips. Goku carries you a little further into the maze until he reached the Gazebo and entered it with you. Very little foreplay was needed for you before you were bent over the side of the structure and bracing your hands and feet to receive him. With your pants and underwear pulled down to your knees and heels scraping across the platform's smooth foundation to balance yourself, you could only smile with success in a mix of your alcoholic buzz and lust having him guide your hips to meet his thrusts. Goku had a hand on your thigh holding you up in place and the other on your exposed breast as he leaned over to kiss your moaning mouth to silence you once you.

You moaned his name against his mouth as motivation to give you his all right now. You didn’t need this to last long, just something to hold you off at least until you got home. So you rubbed at your own clit as he buried his cock inside you with the most insignificant regard for your surroundings. Once you both truly succumb to your pleasure, it was Goku who was the one hard to keep quiet. You playfully shushed him and whispered that if he got any louder someone would hear, but a sudden rustle of leaves pauses you both. You clamp your mouth and Goku covers his own, eyes vigilantly scanning where the sound came from. You let out a small whine as Goku had completely sheathed himself inside when he stopped, resting on your sweet spot and causing your legs to tremble. Both your hearts pounding in your chest in anticipation of what was to come if you were found.

 A couple of voices pass you by, no one visible to see you nor you, them, but the laughter of children faded off as they moved through the maze, most likely back to the party. You let out a relieved sigh and laugh a little.

“It’s just Goten and Trunks... That was cl-” You let out a small squeal when he Goku suddenly started thrusting at you again. He bears his chest against your back and locks his teeth on your shoulder. You further cover your mouth to mask your moans in your palm to endure his rougher movements. That thrill of almost being caught took over him in a split second, Goku had to bite down on you to block his own voice. There was no denying how that brief scare had excited you as well, your cunt so wet and hot around him making such a lewd sound in receiving him it was almost too much for either of you to last much longer.

Goku’s muscles tightened in his aroused state and you hear the subtle sound of tearing fabric when he flexed his arms. He lifts you to stand straight, fitted against his body and drives into you at an angle that teased at your deepest parts. Another sound of a tear hits your ears but it goes ignored under the waves of pleasure building up. You ground your hips back into him and rubbed at your depraved clit again.

You could both clearly hear Raditz yelling something in the distance and declaring to find his little brother to agree with him when you both finally came. You knew it was the thought of getting caught again that finally pushed you over. Even if you were immediately found in your post-coital haze with Goku’s cock filling you up, you would have little care in who found you. The way he held you so close around your waist and hand once again kneading at your freed breast, it would just be another wild party experience compared to the others. Your actions weren’t too subtle for anyone who witnessed your drunken flirting with him, it would be the least suspicious thing caught.  

“F-Fuck, Goku..You came so hard that time..” You huffed without complaint, leaning your head back over his shoulder. He removed his teeth from your skin and sighs out a soft laugh in blissful satisfaction.

“Yeah, sorry. I guess I got really excited.” He kisses your temple and slides himself loose from your clinging warmth, his seed leaking out behind. He couldn’t help but reach his hand over to rub his fingers over your abused bloom, mixing both your fluids in a small circle. “You were really holding onto me, no wonder I couldn’t help myself. Maybe we can do this again at home?” His bright eyes lowered to a playfully suggestive gaze on your face. Before you could answer, you hear Raditz call out Goku’s birth name. He was close and seemed to know exactly where to find you.

“Kakarot! I’d like a word with you! I need you to hear me ou-” Raditz approached the gazebo, finding you both fully dressed and standing some 2 feet apart from each other looking in opposite directions. For someone as oblivious as his little brother, he is quick to notice the rips in Goku’s sleeves and collar, shirt barely hanging onto his body. There was also the loosened fashion of your collar with a poorly hidden red mark on your shoulder peaking out and a smear of your lipstick coming down your chin. “What the hell have you two been doing?” 

“...Walking.” “-Uh, Training!”

#My writing #goku x reader #son goku x reader #goku imagine #Son Goku #dbz imagine #dbz fics #lemon #dbz #Dragon Ball Z #Piccolo knows...he always knows #*TWYSILY

[honeypiehotchner]

Looking Too Closely (Bucky x Stark!Fem!Reader) -- part one

I know, I know. I just finished a 100k fic about Aaron Hotchner, I have another fic for him coming in May, and yet here I am, writing a Bucky Barnes fic. The Falcon and The Winter Soldier has done things to me, guys. I knew I was going to fall right back in love with Bucky and I totally did. So here’s this xx.

(Also, as for the timeline, don’t question it. I’m kind of imagining this on its own separate timeline, but I’ll pull details from everywhere)

Summary: You’re (possibly) Tony Stark’s daughter. You’re also (possibly) on the run from the law. What better place to show up than the Avengers Tower? [Oh and no Bucky in this one! He comes in part 2]

Warnings: angst, mentions of death (your mom), mentions of homelessness, Tony is kinda an asshole (but I still think it’s in character)

BUCKY BARNES MASTERLIST 

You weren’t going to come here.

It was a last-resort kind of option. A I-don’t-want-to-sleep-on-a-park-bench-(again) option. An is-going-to-jail-really-better-than-just-knocking-on-a-door? Kind of option.

Turns out, knocking on a door is better than going to jail. Especially when Tony Stark’s shocked face is almost as comical as your mom’s.

Currently, you’re soaking wet (damn skies decided to open up before you could get to the Tower) and sitting in Tony’s office while he paces and talks on the phone.

“Pepper, honey, I know this is bad timing, but I need you to pick up, okay? I have a kid here— Okay, she’s glaring at me, so not a kid— No, you know what? She is a kid and she’s getting water everywhere and she says she’s my kid and I’m two seconds from going into crisis mode.”

You and me both, you think to yourself. If you knew Tony was this much of a drama queen, you would’ve just gone to the police station. It was closer, anyway. Damn.

Tony ends the voicemail (which is his fifth one, you believe) and spins around to face you, a nervous smile on his lips. “Okay. How old are you again?”

“19,” you repeat tiredly. It was one of the first questions he asked you. “And I don’t actually know if I’m really your kid, okay? My mom says you are, but I don’t know.”

“Where is your mom?” His eyebrows raise like he’s brilliant and has found a way out. “Can you call her?”

“I don’t have a phone, but even if I did, no, I can’t,” you pause, rolling your eyes at his confusion. “She’s dead, Tony. She passed away last month.”

His confusion settles into shock. “Oh.”

“Oh is right,” you chuckle, ignoring your teeth chattering. “And trust me, I wouldn’t be here if I had literally anywhere else I could go.”

Tony opens his mouth to reply, but is cut off by his phone. He hurriedly answers and returns to pacing. “Pepper! Hi!— Okay, slow down, yes I’m telling the truth! Why would I lie— Okay, that was one time. Listen, this time, I’m not lying.” Pause. “Yes, there really is a kid here. You’re serious? Okay, fine, hang on.”

You watch as Tony starts a video call, and then turns the phone around on you.

Pepper Potts’s eyes widen when she sees you staring back at her, a cold and shivering mess.

“Um, hi?” Your voice is small and wary.

“Shit,” Pepper replies, and Tony turns the phone back on his face.

“See? Not lying.”

“For God’s sake, Tony!” Pepper yells. “Get the poor girl some dry clothes! I’ll be there as soon as I can, but try not to freeze her to death before I can get there. Christ.” The call ends.

You muffle a giggle in your hand, looking up to find a tired stare from Tony. Your laughter ends and you mirror his expression. “I told you dude, if I had literally anywhere else I could go, I’d be there.”

“Homeless shelter?” Tony questions.

“A homeless shelter in New York? You mean a breeding ground for disease and sexual assault?”

Your blunt reply has Tony faltering, but he accepts it. “Right. Let’s just— Let’s get you into something dry and warm and maybe get some food in you.” His eyes graze over your form. “When was the last time you ate?”

“Do you really want to ask me that?”

He thinks it over, and nods. “Never mind. Follow me.”

You stand and follow him, leaving a trail of water wherever you step.

He grimaces, pausing in his steps to say, “FRIDAY, will you dry the floors in here before I get back?”

“Who the hell are you talking to—”

Your question is promptly cut off by a female voice answering Tony. “Yes, Mr. Stark.” The voice echoes all around and sounds human, but distinctly sounds like it isn’t.

“What the fuck was that?”

“FRIDAY,” Tony replies. “Stands for ‘Female Replacement Intelligent Digital Assistant Youth’. A mouthful, I know, so I just call her FRIDAY. She’s my AI and she’s all over this building.”

“She— Never mind,” you shake your head. “Cool. Weird, but cool. I guess.”

Tony smiles, but then continues walking, exiting his office.

You follow closely behind, trying not to get too distracted by everything you’re seeing. All you saw on the way up here was the lobby, the elevator, and then right into Tony’s office. Now, you’re seeing out glass windows and down into the rest of the Tower. You have a clean view into what looks like a lab, and you see a few people working in there, but they’re too focused to even bother looking elsewhere.

After stepping into the elevator with you, Tony says, “Wanda should have some extra clothes you can borrow and if not she can at least help you...find some.”

He eyes you like he doesn’t quite know what to do with you, which you think is remarkably humbling of him. Part of you expected (what with all the stories you’ve heard and read about him) that he would act like he knew exactly what to do — regardless of whether it was right.

Maybe he will act that way later, but right now he almost seems frightened, and it’s weirdly comforting.

“Wanda is one of the…” Tony pauses. “You know where we are, right?”

You raise one eyebrow. “You mean do I know this is the Avengers Tower and that the Avengers are real people?”

“Yes…”

“Then yes.”

“Okay,” Tony says, straightening and composing himself once more. “Wanda is one of the Avengers.”

“I know.”

Tony hesitates, and the elevator is still going. “You’re not some crazy fan, right?”

“Dude, I told you. If I had anywhere else to be, I would’ve gone there.” You shrug. “Yeah, it’s cool or whatever, but I’m not going to faint.”

“Good to know,” he says, though you faintly hear him mutter, “cool or whatever,” to himself.

Finally, the elevator stops and the doors open to a new floor, one that you quickly realize is what can be described as the residential area for the Avengers. Their rooms are on this floor, along with a kitchen and a living area of sorts — both of which are empty right now.

Tony notices you looking around and says, “Most everyone is out on a mission right now, so it’s just me and Wanda around.”

“Okay,” you say.

Tony takes you down a hall and around a corner, and stops at a door. He knocks a couple times and then says, “Hey Wan, it’s me and I have a...an issue that I need your help with.”

The door opens a moment later to reveal Wanda Maximoff, a younger woman closer to your age wearing a confused expression. “An issue?” She questions, and then her eyes land on you. “Oh, hi.”

“Hey,” you offer a small smile. “I’m Y/N.”

“I’m Wanda,” she replies, offering a smile in return. But when she looks at Tony, it drops. “What did you do?”

“Why does everyone always assume that I’ve done something?”

“Because when have you not done something?”

Tony pauses. “Fair point. Look, the kid needs some clothes, and I figured borrowing something old of yours would be more comfortable than Avengers workout gear.”

Wanda seems surprised Tony even thought of that. “Of course,” she looks at you. “You can take a shower to warm up, if you want. But I definitely have some clothes you can borrow.”

“Thanks.”

“Just uh…” Tony pauses, waving around like the words will appear in thin air. “Bring her to the kitchen when she’s done.”

“Standing right here,” you mutter, earning a laugh from Wanda.

“Go away,” she waves at Tony. “I’ve got this.”

Tony walks away, clearly elated to be rid of you and have you in the hands of a responsible adult that is not himself.

Wanda shuts her door with a roll of her eyes. “Sometimes I wonder how Pepper keeps him afloat,” she murmurs. “Anyway, on to you— Oh, before all that, I can read minds, but I am actively blocking that right now. I’ll try really hard not to be nosy, but don’t worry, I am really good at keeping secrets because of it.”

You can’t help but smile. “It’s okay. There’s not much that goes on up here anyway.”

She gives you a skeptical look. “I may not be listening, but the amount of energy I am using right now to not listen tells me that’s far from true.”

You just shrug in response, not wanting to get into it.

Thankfully, she keeps her promise and moves on, too, walking toward her closet. “I have loads of t-shirts and hoodies, skirts, too, but I do have some leggings. Do you have a preference?”

“Just whatever you’re comfortable with letting me borrow.”

Part of you thinks she read your mind, though, because she hands you leggings and a t-shirt, along with one of her many zip-up hoodies. You were silently wishing she wouldn’t hand you a skirt.

“My bathroom is just through there and there’s clean towels on the shelf if you want to shower.” Wanda smiles, gesturing toward the open door at the other end of her room.

“Thanks.” You walk over and quickly pee, not realizing until you entered that you’ve desperately had to piss this entire time.

You decide against a shower for the sake of not wanting to take up too much time, and not feeling up for being naked in a stranger’s shower (albeit a kind stranger).

After changing into Wanda’s clothes, and hanging your wet ones over the shower curtain, you go back into Wanda’s bedroom. She’s sitting on her bed, mindlessly moving a red ball of energy between her fingers and up her arms.

She smiles upon seeing you, but doesn’t drop the energy. “Feel better?”

“Yeah,” you nod, mesmerized by the glowing ball of red in her palms. “That’s so dope.”

“Dope?”

“Really cool,” you clarify.

“Oh,” she giggles, and the energy evaporates. “I think I’ve heard Peter say that a few times.”

You have no clue who Peter is, but you don’t question it. “Should we go out there?”

“Yes,” she slides off the bed. “I’ll come with you. Tony can be a handful.”

That’s what your mom used to say about him, too.

You follow Wanda silently out into the hallway, and as you both get closer to the living area and kitchen, you hear two voices this time. One is Tony’s and after a few more steps, you find out that the other voice is Pepper.

“You’re saying she just showed up out of nowhere?”

“Yes, that’s exactly what I’m saying because that’s exactly what happened.”

“And she says you’re her father?”

“Allegedly,” Tony scoffs, resting his hands on the kitchen counter. “I don’t actually know. I can’t remember that far back.”

“How far back?” Pepper asks, arms crossed over her chest.

“She says she’s 19.”

“I’ll be 20 this year,” you interject, enjoying the way Tony fumbles and tries to put on his mask one more time.

“Hey kiddo,” he says. “This is Pepper Potts, she’s the one who wrangles me in.”

Pepper shakes her head before offering you a warm smile and her hand to shake. “It’s nice to meet you, Y/N. I’m sorry you seem to be going through such a tough time.”

“It’s okay,” you say while shaking her hand. “I’m sorry for barging in and all. I didn’t know where else to really go.”

“Nope, that’s okay,” she assures you. “We’re going to get this figured out. Do you mind if you and I just talk for a minute?”

“That sounds good.”

“Awesome,” Pepper smiles. “Okay, Tony, just...go to the lab or something. But...go away.”

You and Wanda share a look as Tony saunters off, no doubt muttering under his breath.

“I’ll leave you guys to it,” Wanda says, gesturing between you and Pepper. “It was nice to meet you.”

“You too,” you smile. “Thanks again for the clothes. I’ll try to give them back soon.”

“Don’t worry about it,” Wanda shakes her head before heading back down the hallway to her room.

You’re left alone with Pepper, who doesn’t terrify you, but the prospect of what conversation is going to come next does.

“Do you want something to eat?” She asks. “I can order something while we talk.”

“Um...pizza?” It’s inexpensive and never fails you in terms of being able to eat it.

“Sure,” Pepper smiles gently. “What kind?”

After telling her your favorite toppings, the two of you take a seat on one of the couches. She finishes placing the order on her phone before she sets down the device and gives you her full attention.

“So. Tony told me your mom passed away,” Pepper pauses. “I’m really sorry for your loss.”

“It’s alright.”

“He also told me you didn’t show up with anything at all,” Pepper says. “Do you mind if FRIDAY does an identity check?”

“Is that like a background check?”

“Essentially, but it’s not that extensive. It’s just so we know the truth about who you are.” She pauses again, sensing your hesitation. “Unfortunately, it’s just a precaution we have to take.”

“Okay,” you agree, realizing you have nothing left to lose. “Uh, how do I…?”

“Right,” Pepper chuckles. “FRIDAY?”

“Yes, Ms. Potts.”

“Will you please do an identity check on…”

“Y/N M/N L/N.”

“One moment.”

“It should just take a few seconds,” Pepper explains. “Oh, and there will be a hologram that will appear— Right there.”

“Identity confirmed.”

The hologram appears in front of the TV, showing general information about you alongside a picture of you — a picture that you think is on your driver’s license, wherever the ashes of that is.

“Y/N M/N L/N, born to Isabella L/N in 2001 in a hospital in Newark, New Jersey. She was born and raised in Pittsburgh, Pennsylvania.”

Your eyes widen. “That’s weird.”

“Thank you, FRIDAY,” Pepper says, and the hologram disappears. “It is a little freaky. I’m still not totally used to all of Tony’s tech, but I’ve stopped worrying about it. Good news is, you are who you say you are.” She pauses. “But I do have to ask why you decided to show up here? You told Tony if you had anywhere else to go, you would’ve, so I understand.”

“It’s the first place I could think of,” you admit quietly. “I’ve been living on the streets for a few weeks now.”

Pepper pales. “You’ve been homeless?”

You nod. “Mom died in a house fire. It was our house. I was on a walk to the gas station to get her favorite candy bar because she had been having a rough time.”

“And she…”

“By the time I came out of the gas station, fire trucks were blaring past and I could smell the smoke. The flames were high enough to see from a mile away.”

“I...I am so sorry.”

You shrug, surprised you’re not crying. “Everything I had was in there, except the clothes I was wearing when I got here. She had my cell phone because we could only afford the one, but it burned, too. Everything burned.

“Anyway, she… She always told me Tony was my dad and I didn’t believe her, but then she showed me pictures of them together, and it made me believe her. So I figured coming here would be better than staying on the streets or going to another shelter.”

Pepper nods. “Okay, well, I’m glad you came here. I am. But...Tony can’t do anything for you if he isn’t your real father.”

“I understand.”

“We can do a paternity test,” she offers. “If you want to, I’ll get him to agree. It wouldn’t be the first one he’s had to do, but this one…this one would probably be the first I think he’d do willingly.”

You furrow your eyebrows. “Really?”

She nods. “The others have been infants and the mothers have mostly been after money. The paternity tests were used in court.”

Your eyes widen. “I do not want to go to court.”

“You won’t,” she says. “The test could be done here and kept between the three of us. But, until then, it is up to Tony what he wants to do — whether or not he wants to let you stay. I’m not saying I will allow him to kick you out, but if he doesn’t want you to stay here, I will do everything I can to make sure you are somewhere safe.” She pauses, watching your expression as it changes. “I’m sorry if this sounds so harsh. It’s a recycled speech I’ve had to give a thousand times,” she laughs airily. “But I do mean it when I say I will make sure you’re safe. I don’t care if it comes out of my paycheck.”

“No, you don’t need to do that,” you start shaking your head, but she stops you.

“You are special, I can tell,” Pepper says. “And Wanda seems to like you, which is telling. In the time that she’s been here, it hasn’t been easy to get her to open up to others.”

You felt comfortable around Wanda, too. The same kind of comfortable you feel with Pepper right now.

Before anything else can be said, footsteps are heard and the smell of pizza fills your nostrils.

“Did you order me pizza? You’re too kind, Ms. Potts,” Tony’s voice floats from the hallway before he enters the living room, pizza box in hand.

“Actually, it’s for Y/N,” Pepper says.

“It’s fine,” you wave them off, but neither of them let it slide.

“Nope,” Tony says, placing the box down on the table in front of the couch. “I’ll get plates. You’re eating.”

“But if you—”

“Ah-ah,” he holds up his index finger, raising his eyebrows. “No arguing.”

“Seriously?” You deadpan, rolling your eyes.

You open the box and pull out a slice while he’s busy wasting time getting plates. When he returns, he hands you a plate, even though you won’t use it. He plops down next to Pepper and grabs a slice, shoving half of it in his mouth.

“Want some?” He gestures the half-eaten slice toward Pepper.

She shakes her head. “No, it’s your favorite, not mine.”

Your chewing slows. “It’s your favorite?”

“Yeah,” Tony replies, eating the other half of his slice.

“It’s my favorite, too,” you reply slowly, reaching for a second piece.

Tony smiles, grabbing a second slice, too. “You’ve got good taste, kid.” He takes less of a big bite this time. “So, what’s the consensus? How much money do you want?”

“Tony—” Pepper starts, but he doesn’t let her finish.

“Or, let me guess, paternity test. And money. College? I can give you a scholarship.”

With every word that falls from his lips, you get more and more angry.

“Or are we just waiting for the police to pick you up? I have to admit, that’s boring, but if that’s what we’re doing—”

“That is enough,” Pepper hisses.

“Um,” you swallow the bite of pizza that you had in your mouth. “Thanks for the pizza and...dry clothes and the talk, but I’m gonna go.”

“Y/N--” Pepper tries.

“No, it’s fine,” you shake your head as you stand. “It’s okay, it was a bad idea anyway. Don’t worry about the test, I mean, I’m an adult anyway, it’s not like it would make any difference.”

“She has a point,” Tony adds.

You ignore him. “I’ll just...yeah.”

The two of them are still bickering when you run off, toward the elevator. The doors open quickly and you let the elevator swallow you whole.

You were stupid, so stupid for coming here. You would’ve been better off on another park bench or something.

When the elevator reaches the lobby, you’re running out as fast as your feet will carry you.

+++

You’re thankful for Wanda’s hoodie when the cold wind of New York starts biting into your skin. It’s a miracle to find an open park bench, and it’d be a miracle if it could be a few degrees warmer outside, but you know that’s asking for way too much.

Still, you try to relax and rest. You have no clue where to go from here. Maybe back to a shelter, but the idea of that makes your body shiver for a different reason other than the cold.

You zip the hoodie up to your chin and wrap your arms around yourself, keeping the heat in as much as you can. Eventually, because of the exhaustion, you find yourself drifting off.

When you wake, it’s with a jolt because the empty seat next to you on the bench is now filled.

“What do you want?” After realizing the person is none other than Tony Stark, you can’t be bothered to be polite.

“For you to come back to the Tower before it starts raining.”

You sit up straighter, shaking your head. “No thanks. Did Pepper put you up to this?”

“Actually, I put myself up to this,” he replies. “I was a jackass. I’m sorry.”

“Thanks.”

“I mean it, kid.”

“Maybe stop calling me ‘kid.’”

“I will when you quit acting like one.”

You lift your head to glare at him. “That’s a low blow. Even for you.”

“I just want you to come back to the Tower with me,” Tony says. “I’m sorry. It was a low blow, and so was everything else I said earlier. But I refuse to let you sleep here when there’s a perfectly fine and vacant room at the Tower. Right next to Wanda’s room.”

You mull it over for a second. The mention of Wanda is enticing because despite today’s circumstances, she did seem kind and harmless. The two of you seemed like you could get along well, too, which is rare for you — and her, apparently.

“Fine,” you cave. “But only because this bench is uncomfortable as hell.”

Tony sighs, but doesn’t comment on that. Instead, he stands, gesturing for you to follow, and you do. “Okay, come on. I parked over here.”

“Parked?”

“Yeah, ki— You walked a good thirty minute drive from the Tower.”

“Oh.”

“It’s fine,” he says. “But it is about to rain, so.”

He clicks something and what was once a black smudge in your vision suddenly lit up as the car’s engine roared to life, turning the headlights on, too.

You can’t help but scoff.

“What?” Tony asks through a laugh. “It’s my car.”

“It’s so flashy.”

He accepts it. “Fair point.”

You have no clue what make or model the car is, but regardless it’s too sleek and too low to the ground. Thank God you aren’t driving.

You hop in the passenger seat, unashamed that you want to get out of the wind. Tony silently turns the seat warmers on when he gets in.

After driving for a few minutes, Tony breaks the silence.

“I need to call Pepper to let her know I found you,” he says, and without another word, the car begins calling Pepper. Well, FRIDAY does, because she’s in his cars, too.

Pepper picks up almost immediately. “Please tell me you found her.”

“I did, Pep.”

“Thank God,” she says, exhaling deeply. “Is she in the car? Y/N?”

“I’m here,” you speak up.

“Good,” she replies. “I was scared he made you angrier instead of apologizing.”

You’re still angry with him, but you don’t say that. “He apologized.”

“Good,” Pepper says. “Drive safe, Tony, please.”

“Yeah, yeah, I’ll only go ten above the speed limit.”

“Tony—”

“Call disconnected.”

“Oops,” Tony says. “Do you want a milkshake? Late night snack?”

“I’m good.”

“Suit yourself,” he shrugs, speeding up.

+++

You got a milkshake.

Not because you really wanted one, but because Tony ordered you one anyway. He guessed your favorite — it’s the same as his, but still — and didn’t let you argue. And you’re not one to let something go to waste if it’s right in front of you.

Pepper and Wanda look more than relieved when you enter the Tower beside Tony, milkshake still in hand.

“I have returned with the… With Y/N.”

You roll your eyes.

“Thank you,” Pepper says, but she still gives Tony a glare. When she looks back at you, her expression is soft. “I’m so sorry.”

“It’s okay,” you murmur. “I won’t stay for long, I promise.”

Pepper shook her head. “You can stay for as long as you need to. There’s no sense in you sleeping anywhere else when there’s a room here you can have.”

“I could use the company,” Wanda adds, smiling gently. “If you want.”

You smile in return, but you’re still wary. You look at Tony to see what he thinks, but to your complete surprise, he doesn’t look angry or anything.

“As long as you don’t ask for an entire floor, you can stay,” he says.

That’s about as good a response you’re going to get out of him, it seems, so you accept it.

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[jaceyneedsabetterusername]

Aliit Be Cuur

Pairings: Mando x Reader

Summary: While waiting in the hospital in Mos Pelgo after you were inured in the attack on the Krayt Dragon, Mando accidentally learns some life changing information for the both of you. You’re pregnant. 

Warnings: Description of injuries, Pregnancy, Talk about miscarriage, Mando sees a sonogram-like image of reader’s uterus while she’s unconscious, general discussion of pregnancy while reader is unconscious and unaware, made up Star Wars level medical equipment

Word Count: 2800

Read Part 2 Here!

________________________________________

Watching you lay unconscious, body littered in cuts and burns, had to be the most terrifying thing Mando had ever experienced, and that was coming from a man that had seen some horrific things in his life. It was his fault you were hurt. If only his plan to kill the Krayt Dragon had gone as it was supposed to, you wouldn’t be in this position. This was supposed to be what he was good at. Killing. Sure, he killed the dragon, but at what cost? 

When the initial plan of luring out the dragon and detonating the explosive just at his weak spot under his belly had gone south, he knew he had to think of something else. He could not leave the Mandalorian armor with Cobb Vanth. He needed it back. 

The plan to use the bantha as bait had come to him quickly but he should have known better than to not tell you what he was doing. There was just no time. Everything had happened so fast. After months of travelling together, he’d hoped that maybe by some miracle, you could read his mind and know that everything was going to be okay when he allowed the dragon to swallow him with the bantha. 

You were with the villagers and Tusken Raiders, struggling to fix the devices you’d built to throw the harpoons so you’d have a fighting chance. Being so caught up in your own tasks, sweat beading on your forehead from the heat and pressure, you hadn’t known Mando had strapped explosives to the bantha and was using it as bait. A loud screeching roar from the dragon ripped your attention away from the trying to kick a piece of wood back into place just in time to see the dragon’s mouth open, massive teeth bared, as it plunged down, straight on top of Mando and the bantha. 

You screamed in horror, running towards the beast, “MANDO!” About halfway there from your post, you whipped out your blaster and shot at the beast as it dove back into the sand. The lasers were useless and you knew that but it was the only thing you could think of to do. Your legs fumbled to a halt, the realization that Mando was really gone actually hitting you. 

But then something else hit you. 

There was a loud explosion and a wave of fire, rocks, sand, and dragon flesh hit you, throwing your body back. The last thing you saw was the wave of orange and red coming at you before everything went black. 

Just as planned, Mando had managed to escape the beast’s clutches before the explosion but suddenly regretted every decision he’d ever made when he saw the little figure of your body running towards where you assumed Mando to be. Even from dozens of feet in the air, he knew it was you. He couldn’t imagine anyone else there willing to run straight at the monster to try and save him. The bombs were sure to detonate any second but by the time he’d noticed you, it was too late. The bomb detonated with a massive wave of heat and debris. 

He watched in horror as your body flew back at least twenty feet before sliding another fifteen across the sand after the impact. Time seemed to stop around him as he jetted to you in less than a few seconds. He couldn’t breathe, fear that he had caused your death choking his airways. “Y/N!” He yelled, landing harshly on his feet right beside you before falling to his knees. You were lying face down, eyes closed. “Y/N, talk to me.” Mando looked over your body and, by some miracle, there didn’t appear to be any broken bones, at least not any that looked immediately disfiguring. With a nearly effortless nudge, he rolled your body over. Your clothes had been ripped and/ or singed in many places. Multiple large holes in your pants revealed reddening burns and blood dripping from sand scraped skin. Your shirt was torn in multiple places, the left strap of your shirt torn so severely it could barely count as a sleeve. The side of your face that was on the sand was also scraped up, thankfully not too deep, but enough to cause bleeding. 

Now the two of you were in the little hospital in Mos Pelga, along with the rest of those who'd been injured in the attack. You slept now, bandages covering large portions of you body that was now largely exposed. They had had to strip you down to your underwear to reach all the wounds but had wrapped your chest in wrappings in place of a bra for the sake of your privacy. Mando had pulled his cape over the majority of your body, knowing you'd be upset if you were to wake up practically naked in front of everyone. 

He hadn't left your side since the explosion. He carried you to the infirmary. He laid you down on the cot. He watched as both human nurses and medic droids worked to patch you up and take blood for tests. They had told Mando that they wouldn’t know anything for sure until the tests came back. Even with the bacta that they’d lathered on you, it would take time for it to work and there was a possibility for further damage that they couldn’t see on the outside. 

The child had been sleeping in his little cot, sealed up safely inside the levitating metal object. Mando had just been sitting beside you on a crate, leaning forward on his knees. This was his fault. He should have known you’d run in. He should have known that something like this could happen. 

“Mandalorian.” A robotic voice gently called for Mando’s attention. 

He looked up at the awkwardly proportioned grey medic droid who stood on the opposite side of the bed. “Is she going to be okay?” 

The droid spoke again, its body shifting unnecessarily to emphasize some of its words, “Patient 728, also known as Y/N. Female. Age: (Y/A). 2nd degree burns on the abdomen, arms, and legs. Superficial graze abrasions on the face, neck, arms, hands, abdomen, and legs. Bruising on face, back, hips, and legs. Probability of death: 7%. No damage to the fetus. Probability of miscarriage: 19%.” 

Mando found a hard time finding any solace in the words of a droid. When a young male nurse walked up beside the droid, Mando immediately turned his attention to him.

“It’s a miracle the baby survived unharmed. I’ve seen much less cause a miscarriage.” The nurse mused, flipping through the clipboard in his hands. 

Mando stood up, brows furrowed beneath the helmet, “That must be someone else’s chart.” 

The nurse flipped back to the front page, “Patient 728? Y/N L/N?” The young man confirmed.

“Yes.” 

He shook his head, “Nope, this is hers.” 

Mando gestured to you, “There must have been a mistake. She’s not pregnant.” 

The young nurse looked at the beskar helmet that he was actually slightly taller than and swallowed hard, “I’m sorry. I assumed that you were the father. If not, this is confidential information that I can’t share with you.” It was obvious that the man was afraid to stand up to a Mandalorian, surely hundreds of stories of their superior killing ability running through his head. Nonetheless, he held fast to what was right. 

Mando’s head was reeling and all he wanted was to run and take off the helmet and take actual, non-filtered breaths. Instead, he was wide eyed and silent as thoughts ran through his head a million lightyears an hour. The beskar betrayed none of his emotions. To the rest of the world, he appeared frozen, standing strong and staring right at the nurse when in reality Mando had zoned out somewhere off to the side. 

If you were pregnant, the baby had to be his. For the last few months, the two of you had had an unofficial relationship of sorts. Nothing was ever said, no official labels, but the two of you behaved like any other couple, or at least a much less touchy-feely version of one. After a night of confessions brought on by an unrelated argument, it had become an unspoken truth that you were only taken by each other. You were his riduur, no doubt, and, as far as he knew, he was yours. You would never lay with another man as long as you and Mando were together, that much he was sure of.

“If she’s pregnant, I am the father.” His voice was calm as always but he thanked the modulator for the slight distortion. If it hadn’t been there, he would have sounded shaky. 

The nurse sighed, choosing to believe him because he really didn’t see much use in lying over something like this. He flipped to the next page on his chart and walked over to stand beside Mando, pointing at some numbers that meant nothing to him. “hCG is a hormone that’s created in the placenta and is only present in pregnant women. According to her levels, I’d say she’s about eight weeks.” He paused for a moment, allowing time for the new information to sink in. “You really didn’t know?” 

“If I’d have known, I wouldn’t have let her fight the Krayt Dragon.” Mando snapped, almost angry at the mere suggestion that he would put his own child in that sort of danger. 

The nurse put his hand up in defense before continuing, “Do you think she knows?” 

Mando shook his head. He believed that you still would have jumped into battle even if you had known, at least from a distance. It was just who you were. But he really didn’t think you had any idea that you were pregnant. Mando had been trained to read people his entire life and surely such news would have brought about some change in your demeanor. Mando hadn’t noticed any change in your behavior. Besides, he would like to believe that you would have told him if you knew.

He couldn’t believe this. How were you pregnant? Okay, well he knew how you could have possibly gotten pregnant but the two of you had always tried to be as safe as you could to avoid this exact scenario. Neither of you were in a position for children, the Child being a special circumstance. Your life was full of danger and violence. How could Mando protect you for an entire nine months while pregnant and then for the rest of forever, while also protecting the Child against what felt like an entire galaxy that wanted him at any cost? 

“Do you want to see?” The nurse’s voice brought Mando back to the present and his helmet tilted in curiosity. 

“See what?” 

“The baby. I need to do a scan to ensure that it's still doing alright. You can see the fetus on the screen while you scan.” He set the clipboard at the foot of your bed and procured a moderately sized glass panel with a metal border that he’d had pinned between his arm and side while he spoke to Mando. 

With a few taps on the glass, bright blue words and images appeared. He tapped on one selection and the middle of the screen cleared, aside from a thin column on the right hand side that had stats and vitals. “See, if you put anything under this, it will show you an interior view of the body. This mode shows organs and blood vessels and stuff like that. See?” The nurse put his hand under the glass panel. The screen showed a light blue version of his hand but instead of skin and nails, it clearly showed the lines of his muscles and the veins that overlapped them clearly. 

Politely as he could, he pulled the cape that had been draped over you down just enough to expose your lower belly, stopping just above the hemline of your underwear. The only thing indicating that you were even alive at this point was the deep inhale you took, drawing both Mando’s and the nurse’s attention. It was the only time Mando hoped that you weren’t waking up. He had no idea how to explain this new situation to you. Hell, he was still having a hard time understanding it for himself. Thankfully, a deep breath was all it was though. You were still asleep. 

The nurse moved the glass panel over your lower stomach, just about where your belly button was, and the image began to form on the screen as he adjusted a few things. Mando’s helmet tilted forward as he leaned over to see the image. 

A nearly perfect view of your reproductive system appeared as a blue digital image. Mando felt uncomfortable looking at the image, feeling like he was violating you in some way. He knew he shouldn’t be looking at this without your permission but then the nurse zoomed in on your uterus to the point where the only thing that could really be seen was a little being. 

Mando’s first thought was that it looked like a little alien. There was an identifiable head that appeared to be looking down and the cord that was attached to you through its belly. The rest of the body was curled into a fetal position. 

The nurse tapped something on the screen and there was a rapid thudding sound that emanated from the device. 

“Is that the heartbeat?” Mando asked, knowing that the answer was probably obvious. For someone who was used to working under pressure, he felt like his brain was only receiving radio static. 

“Mhm, nice and strong.” The nurse said with a warm smile. He tapped a few notes onto the board and then turned it off, the blue image disappearing and the amplified heartbeat ceasing. 

Mando couldn't believe this was happening. How could you not know you were pregnant? He was no expert on the female body, aside from the basics, but weren't you supposed to be throwing up or missing periods or something? He couldn't wrap his head around how you were eight weeks along with seemingly no clue of your condition. 

"Look, I can see that clearly this was something unexpected. I don't know if this is something you want to tell her or want me to, but either way, there are some conversations you two need to have." The nurse told Mando matter-of-factly while gathering the few things he’d brought over before leaving. 

Mando shifted on his feet and reached down to pull his cape back up over your torso so you wouldn’t be cold and exposed, though it was mostly for the second reason. It was next to impossible to be cold on Tatooine, at least during the day. That was when he noticed the small, barely there bump on your lower stomach. It was such a slight variation from its normal size that he never would have noticed it had he not just learned about the life now growing inside you. It was so slight that he imagined you probably would have just attributed it to bloating perhaps, since you were unaware as well, considering all the less-than-pleasant food you both came across in your work. 

Part of him wanted to place his hands over the ever-so-slight swell of your belly, just to see if by some chance he could feel anything. Mando decided against it, shaking his helmet at himself with a heavy sigh. He would wait until you woke up and the two of you had a chance to discuss everything before he did anything relating to the baby. 

Gently, he pulled the cape back up over your body and sat down on the crate again, leaning his elbows on his knees where he sat with his thoughts for several minutes in a zoned out daze. His attention was only broken by the cooing from the Child’s metal pram. Mando tapped on the controls on his arm, opening the pram, and removing the little green baby who was now wide awake. 

“Hey, buddy.” Mando breathed out, watching as the baby stretched his arms out to you, “I know, I know. She’ll wake up soon.” 

The Child looked up at Mando sadly before snuggling down onto his lap, sitting there comfortably. The weight of such a small being had become comfortable and normal for Mando now after all this time with him. He was, by Creed, his son now. Mando was already a father. You had stepped up as a mother for the young child. So why did this feel different? 

Mando imagined the new future, assuming you had decided to stay with him and care for the baby together. He had every intention of raising the baby with you and would do whatever it took to keep the two of you safe. He loved you more than he knew was possible to love another person and the last thing he wanted was to leave. Mando hoped that, one day, you would be officially bound by riduurok. Once the Alor approved it, Mando’s clan of two would become an aliit be cuur. Clan of four. 

#mando x y/n #the mandolorian x reader #mando x you #mando imagine #the mandalorian #din dijarin x reader #din djarin #din djaren #din djarin fics #pedro pascal #dad!mando #mando x pregnant!reader #star wars #star wars imagines

[kimnjss]

unconscious confession | jhs

⤑  series: heartbreaker

⤑ pairing: stoner!hoseok x cheerleader!reader

⤑ genre: fluff !! 

⤑ rating: pg13

⤑ word count: 3.4 // unedited

⤑ warnings: use of recreational drugs..!!

⤑ A/N: hiiii! thanks to everyone who has been reading along so far and giving me feedback with each and every update !! i really appreciate it honestly it’s a really big motivator for me. sooo i hope you like this part as well, don’t forget to let me know what you think . and also it’s this hoseok walking around lmao .

OCTOBER 3RD, 2020 | 19:26

Hoseok showed up to the game while the players were still practicing and you and the rest of the squad were in the middle of stretches. He looks effortlessly handsome from the quick glimpse you get before he's slumping down onto the metal. Focus on tucking each crumble of weed into the paper, but he'd occasionally steal glances at you on the field.

And your eyes meet each and every time. He played into the casual feel he wanted to set for tonight, an oversized pale yellow shirt underneath his light denim jacket. The pants he wears matches the jean of his jacket but are covered in rips, hair being held back by a headband. You've never noticed it before, but staring at him from the field when you really should be stretching had you realizing how well he carried himself. All of the time.

Thankfully, you're able to keep focus while you're actually cheering. Ignoring the fuzzy feeling that rises in your chest at the sight of him cheering for you (it's not for the players on the field who are losing, badly). He even waves cutely at you as you're being thrown in the air and you consider ruining your form to wave back. But decide against it, Jimin would throw a fit.

His attention is on you from kickoff through overtime, taking the steps two at a time as the players line up to congratulate the winning team. “Ooh. Here comes your biggest fan,” Jimin points out from beside you, slightly breathless from the back-to-back routines.

You're gulping down mouthfuls of water, so you actually don't see when Hoseok makes his way over to you. Not until Jimin's words are registering and your head is whipping around to catch the wide smile on his pretty face. He doesn't hesitate to drop his arm over your shoulders, easily tucking your body into his side.

Instantly, you're engulfed in the familiar scent of him. The subtle stench of weed masked by his sweet cologne. You've never been around a guy who smelt as sweet as Hoseok always did, used to the overpowering stink of AXE body spray, but you're convinced he's never purchased a bottle. 

He's offering a quick nod of acknowledgment to Jimin, which is met with a halfhearted wave as he leans down to tie his laces. “You were pretty cool cheering,” He tries to be nonchalant with his compliment, eyes focused on the sky as he talks. Which is pointless, you already caught the way he had been cheering from the crowd.

“'Pretty cool', that's it?” There's a playful smirk on your lips that he finds way more inciting than he should. But, he's determined to keep his cool in front of you so all he does is lift his shoulders in a slight shrug. “Yeah, pretty cool.” He repeats in the same tone as before.

You don't even bother to mask the snicker that sneaks past your lips. “I put my leg behind my head it was just 'pretty cool'? Maybe you need an up-close demonstration?” It's the one that you use that catches him off guard, highlighting the meaning behind your suggestion.

He stumbles slightly, eyes widening slightly. That was obviously something he's thought about before... respectfully. This wasn't the first time he's seen what your body could do and it never failed to get his mind wandering. Of course, he's thought if he had the chance to sleep with you, would you pull out the same tricks you do on the field. Who wouldn't wonder that with someone they were pursuing? 

But, the fact that you were mentioning it. Hinting at it like you were planning for exactly that to happen, that was a whole different ballpark. And it's obvious from the slightly dazed look in his eye, that you can't help but laugh at. Pulling him from his thoughts with the sound of your laugh.

“You're funny,” You say through your laughter, which he's quickly catching on to – soft chuckles leaving his lips.

He leads you all the way to the locker rooms, where he waits outside for you to change out of your uniform and into the sweater and jeans you had picked out for your date. Compliment at the edge of his tongue the moment you're stepping out, arm dropping back down around your shoulder.

While the two of you walk to his car, he fills you in on the hilarious thing Jeongguk did that morning. And you laugh along with him. Like an actual laugh, not one of those forced ones to boost his ego. He's animated as he speaks, gesturing wide and goofy voices tagged as his friend's voices.

You're a few steps from his car when he's rushing ahead of you, pulling the car door open before dramatically gesturing to it. “M'lady,” He says as you pass him and you know he's just kidding, but your heart skips a beat.

There's got to be something wrong with you, you're sure of it. You've been on tons of dates in the past and here you were all warm and fuzzy inside and the date has barely started. It was comforting being around Hoseok, though. As if you've always known him, you hardly had to do any thinking when you texted and it was no different in person.

You can't help but wonder if it felt like that for him too. A connection like that can't just go unnoticed, right? Or maybe you were getting ahead of yourself. “Will you tell me now where we're going?” You're asking as he's settling into the space beside you, tugging his seatbelt around his waist.

“I won't tell you until we're there.” You had spent the entire night before trying to guess where he was taking you, which was no use. The shrug emoji was a favorite of his you were quickly realizing. “It's really cool, though. You're gonna like it,” He says with a grin.

If that was supposed to ease your curious mind, it does the exact opposite. A place he was sure you were going to like? How would he know? Talked for seven days straight, but that's only one week. Do you really know what someone likes after one week?

Hoseok's quiet the entire car ride, a small smile playing on his lips as he drives. You're too busy striking out possible date locations to make any conversation, so the soft sound of his music is the only noise that fills the car. He's humming along to the beat, fingers tapping against the steering wheel, hair being swept by the wind. He's something out of a movie, it's hard to really focus on anything else.

Ten whole minutes pass of you shamelessly admiring his profile before he's shoving the car into park. “We're here,” Arms stretched out in front of him and your eyes squint, figuring you're missing something. “Where's here?” You're asking when you can't find the answer for yourself.

Hoseok lets out a small laugh, hand reaching to unbuckle his seatbelt. “You gotta get out to see it,” He's at your door seconds later, pulling it open and offering his hand out to you. Which you take, allowing him to pull you from the warmth and into the night wind. With his fingers laced with yours, he leads you away from the car.

You were standing on a cliff and the closer you get to the edge, the prettier it gets. Lights from the city below twinkling, but it looks so quiet. “You can see everything up here,” His fingers are still laced with yours, forgotten between you. “Right. I like to come here sometimes and just look,” Even with the endless conversation the two of you shared throughout the week, there were still quite a few things you didn't know about him.

Like the fact that he had a spot or the reason, he felt like he needed one in the first place. “How come you wanted to have our date here?” Aren't spots supposed to be private? Wouldn't showing you where he goes to 'just look', take away from that?

All at once, he's becoming all too aware with the warmth of your hand in his. The small tingle he feels throughout his palm that he had done a good job at ignoring up until now. It's the reason he's wiggling his fingers from your grasp and shoving his hand into the front pocket of his jeans.

He's plopping down on the rock with a thud, shoulders shrugging. “I don't know. Sometimes when we talk, I feel like bringing you here. So I did.” He's trying to be cool and you're not too sure why. There's a code in his words that isn't at all hard to read. He wanted to bring you here, let you in on a piece of him and no matter how nonchalant he tried to act about it, that's what it was.

So you're lowering yourself to sit beside him. From his pocket, he's pulling out a pre-rolled blunt and tucking it between his lips. He's quick with lighting it, taking his time with inhaling. “I don't really go on dates like that, you know. I mean, I do... but I don't. When I take girls out, it's like a gratuity, you know? But, I like talking to you and I wanted to show you something cool too. So I brought you here,”

His free hand rests on the ground behind you, inadvertently pulling your body closer to his. “Do you like it?” There's a bit of hopefulness in his voice that's hard to miss.

You're smiling brightly up at him, nodding your head to rid him of any confusion. “I like it. It's really pretty. Thank you for showing it to me,” Just your smile was enough to have the flutter starting up in his chest, but the way you talked to him? He'd turn into a blubbering fool if he wasn't careful.

He extends his hand, wordlessly offering the smoke out to you. And you're assuming that he just wants you to hold it for a second, so you pluck it from his fingers. And wait. He's snorting out a laugh at the patient look on your face. “You gonna hit it or...?”

“Oh! Uhm... no?” He's quick with pulling it from your fingers at the rejection, no desire to waste anything. “Why not? Are you like a good girl or something?” He teases, words coming through a cloud of smoke.

You're letting out a scoff, eyes rolling at his words. “No. I'm an athlete. My body is my most important instrument. Which includes my lungs,” He's bursting out laughing at the snootiness hidden in your tone. A loud laugh contagious laugh that could probably be heard throughout the entire city.

“Well, excuse me,” He speaks through your dying laughter.

With his arm resting behind you, you're naturally leaning into his side. The calm of the night and having him so close has a warm feeling settling in your chest, so much so that it's hard to contain the smile that has spread onto your features. Sitting in comfortable silence and watching the city below and it doesn't feel weird.

Content with just being around him and that's something you've never felt before. Whether or not he was feeling it too was lost on you, his focus on moving the blunt to and from his lips, a cloud of smoke forming above your heads.

“You see that greenish building?” You're pointing a little ways ahead of you. He has to lean forward and squint to see what you're referring to but nods once he spots it. “That's my middle school,” Punctuating your words with a grin up at him.

His fingers move to flick his scraps into the window, his body moving closer to you now that his focus wasn't split. “What was Middle School Yn like?” His free hand fidgets with the pebbles on the other side of his body, the other resting over your shoulder.

“Middle School Yn?” You repeat with a laugh, head tilting to the side as you're brought back to what you were like in middle school. Nothing like how you've turned out. “She was... different?” You're laughing again, planning on leaving it at that.

But, he's got this expectant look on his face, waiting for you to go on. So you do. “I kept to myself mostly, didn't have many friends. Not nearly as confident as I am now. I read a lot and did my homework. That's it,” He doesn't seem shocked or even surprised by the fact that you weren't always this popular magazine cut-out creation of yourself.

He doesn't even bat an eye, simply nodding at your words. “So you were a little nerdy?” His words don't come out in the rude unconvinced way that you've heard before when showing your past yearbooks. It's more like he's trying to get an image of what you looked like back than despite anything else.

“You could say that,” He's nodding, brushing the dirt from his hands. “Cute. Middle School me would've had the biggest crush on you.” Hoseok speaks as if it's just another fact like his words don't have a flutter shooting through your chest.

And with how sure he was that you two would've hit it off in middle school, you can't help but become curious. “What were you like back then?” You try to picture what a younger version of him would look like. How he'd act. Probably still cool, unbothered by most things that would usually send kids into a rage.

Your imagination doesn't get too far before he's answering. “I was a bit of a hothead... always wanted to fight someone. I was sensitive and emotional, so I argued a lot with whoever. I had a ton of friends, though. But looking, they were probably just afraid of not being my friend.” He laughs so you offer up a small giggle.

Your hand had been mindlessly resting on his thigh before, fingers tracing patterns into the fabric of his jeans as he speaks. “So why do you think you'd have a crush on me?” From the way he described himself, it seemed like you two wouldn't even sit by each other – let alone be close enough that he'd develop a crush.

He's shrugging at your words, an action that you've quickly realized is his favorite. A way to give off nonchalance, but looking close enough it's not hard to detect the light blush that dusts over his cheeks. “You said you were quiet. I think I would've liked being around you. Listening to you talk... like now,” His arm drops from your shoulders to wrap around your waist, using his grip to pull you closer to him.

“Think if I met you then or now, I'd still be into the way you smile... or the pretty way you roll your eyes when you're trying to act annoyed. And yeah, just you.” His hand reaches for yours in his lap, loosely twisting your fingers with his. “Any version of me would like you,” It's so soft, you're not sure if that last part was meant for you to hear.

His eyes are focused out in front of you, not even slightly looking like someone that just confessed. So you ignore it, summing it up as a slip of the tongue. You don't comment, but that doesn't stop the butterflies from taking over your stomach.

All at once, you're being met with the undeniable urge to kiss him. Just to see what it feels like. Throw out the self-proclaimed challenge you set for yourself because Arya was probably wrong. You've spent the entire night with the guy, he cheered you on from the crowd, brought you to his spot, and now this... unconscious confession. The fact that he liked you was on his mind so much that he was saying it without even realizing it.

You found it extremely hard to think someone like that would have the wrap sheet he was given. Or, maybe he did in the past... but with you it was different. Why else would he take you here, invite you into his space and talk to you the way that he has if it wasn't anything different? Right?

Right.

So before you can talk yourself out of it, you're tilting your head to the side to face him. “It's pretty here, huh?” Voice much softer now, you've taken control of the fiddling of fingers. Twisting yours around him and occasionally brushing your nails against his skin. It's subtle enough to be taken lightly but just enough to leave his skin tingling.

He's quick to pick up on your change of demeanor, brows raising in slight surprise, but he doesn't say anything. In fact, he's following your lead, leaning his body in closer to yours. “Mhm. Quiet too, nobody really comes over here,” His fingers tug at the belt loops in your jeans, tongue pushing out to wet his lips.

“That's good,” Your breath brushes against his lips as you speak, eyes dropping to his lips. He doesn't say anything else, gently pulling his fingers from your grasp just so he can spread his palm on the side of your neck. And then his lips are crashing down onto yours, hand holding your head in place.

Hoseok kisses you slowly at first, mouth molding with yours. But it's not long before he's brushing his tongue over your lips, testing the waters before he's plunging in. Fingers pressed into his jeans, you try to keep your head from spinning as his tongue pushes against yours. He tastes earthy... but a little sweet. It's intoxicating.

With two hands planted firmly on your hips, he's easily lifting you onto his lap. The movement so fast it's forcing you to break the kiss, a squealed laugh breaking the kiss. Which he meets with a wide grin, reaching to push your hair from your face. Slowly, he drags the tips of his fingers over your jawline, until he's holding your chin between his thumb and index finger.

“I really like your lips,” He says through a groan, leaning in to cover your mouth with his once more. Hands dropping to cover the curve of your ass, pushing your body further up on his lap so your hips collide. You can feel his half-hard cock pressed against your thigh and it takes everything in you not to grind your hips forward.

The feeling of his cool hands slipping underneath your sweater has a shiver running down your spine. Body reacting to the way his fingers climb up your skin, grazing over the underwire of your bra. His teeth tug at your lower lip and you feel the twitch of his cock hardening as his hands slide underneath.

Your slow with pulling back, not fully wanting to pull away – but knowing if you didn't stop now you wouldn't be able to convince yourself later on. It's cute, though, the way his lips chase yours as you put distance between the two of you. When he's not tasting the peach of your lip gloss, his eyes flutter open.

Two large hands resting over your breasts, cheeks matching the color of his eyes. “You don't want to?” He looks genuinely confused, like someone not wanting to sleep with him right away was some foreign concept. Still, he's pulling his hands from the inside of your shirt, resting them behind him.

“Not yet,” He nods, glossy lips spreading into a smile. “Okay,” He leans up to press a reassuring kiss to your nose before he's sliding you off of his lap. And then, without missing a beat he's saying. “I bet I can name more constellations than you,” Completely wiping away any possibility of an awkward moment rising.

Challenging you with a smirk on his face and the comfortable atmosphere you had been in before is quickly returning. “Yeah, okay.” He's stretched out on the ground so he can look at the sky properly and you're quick to lower yourself beside him.

And just like that, you're pointing out clusters of stars, laughing at the ridiculous names that you come up with. Your head pressed to his shoulder and his arm wrapped around you. You don't even notice as the hours tick by.

— you’re just his type. so it’s no surprise when all of his time and effort goes into making you his. though, they’ve always said… you only want it because you can’t have it.

⤪ masterlist ⤨

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A/N: timestamps make sense throughout the fic. if u want to be added to the tag list, send me an ask! + if you’ve asked to be on my permanent taglist, you do not need to ask to be added to this one !!

#hoseok #hoseok fluff #hoseok smut #bts smut #💔 sm au #hoseok fic #hoseok sm au #hoseok imagine #hoseok angst #jung hoseok #hoseok x reader #bts #bts imagine #bts sm au #namjoon x oc #yoonmin