#Outing myself as both a rare pair enjoyer and as the type of person who pairs units up for the hair colour | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

doctorlaelia-ffxiv · 3 years

Text

never let you go - part 2.

[[ read part one >here!< @benes-diction for mentions of the Beanies! ]]

I allowed Cato Lucretius to start officially courting me come spring in Garlemald... which doesn’t mean much, and does little to make dents in the snow, but it still felt warmer, somehow. His presence was warm. At times, he was like the soft glow of a candle in a dark room, providing a sense of safety and comfort. Other times, he glowed so brightly that I thought that he might be a supernova, too big for this world altogether.

To say that I was in love with him would be a difficult thing. I was very fond of him, for a while. We got along tremendously well, and he was good at making me laugh. Our honeymoon period was sweet, and friends sighed over what a lovely pair we were, and I agreed with them. Cato Lucretius was a perfectly amiable, enjoyable sort of man to be around, who gave excellent kisses and was an attentive sort of lover, who could provide conversation that stimulated the mind and be a quiet place to rest, too.

At least, at first. All that glitters is not gold. Sometimes it’s just a very pretty plating put over something rusty.

In the summer, Cato Lucretius invited me to move into his apartment on the outskirts of the university we both attended. He was a literature major with a schedule that was far less packed than mine, considering I was still taking classes while conducting my residency at the hospital to enter into neurosurgery . But it worked, I suppose. He was something of a “house boyfriend,” you could call it. He made meals and kept our shared space clean, ran hot baths when I had a long day at work, would call me on the nights I couldn’t return. And he made a point of bringing me on dates, where we were able to make time for it, to expensive restaurants and pretty museums and lush greenhouses and towering libraries.

Being old money from Garlemald came with a bit of status that Cato Lucretius frequently enjoyed. He liked the balls and the parties, and he enjoyed the luxuries of the finest foods and wines, and he liked to talk, very much, about the plights of our countrymen in a senseless war for a government that only wanted dominion rather than peace... and his words were pretty. They were nice to listen to. He could be fantastically passionate about things, he could grab a whole room’s attention with his vivacity and silver tongue, and I enjoyed listening to him on those summer evenings where the world felt like it belonged to us.

For the first time in a long time, I was happy. I was twenty and finishing the last leg of my residency - the youngest in generations in Garlemald to achieve such a high position so quickly. It was an honor. It was a feat, of countless sleepless nights and many frustrated tears and many, many joyous victories. And Cato Lucretius would stay up with me, during the time we were together, to celebrate or to mourn, respectively. And then things just... started to feel like they were shifting. I remember it starting to feel different in the autumn.

The warmth was starting to fade, like it was chasing the seasons.

“You’re brilliant,” Cato Lucretius would tell me as he smiled, as he brushed my hair from my forehead as I nursed a glass of something strong on a rare day off. “You’re the smartest person on this star, Laelia.”

He said it so frequently. At first, I thought it was sweet. I liked being acknowledged for my accomplishments more than my looks. It didn’t feel like he looked at me like a piece of meat. To him, I was his equal - more than his equal. And that, maybe, was the problem. Cato Lucretius was putting me on a pedestal I didn’t try to get onto, and slowly... Slowly, but surely, it started to tarnish the way that he looked at me.

“You never have time for me.”

That was how it started. It caught me off guard, as we stood in the kitchen and made dinner together. He was leaning against the counter and staring at the floor as he sipped from his whiskey glass, one hand braced behind him with the sleeves of his red sweater pushed up.

“I always try to make time for you,” I had told him, and I had frowned, because I was confused. I was... I am a person that grew up quickly. There were intricacies in people’s words and meanings that I wasn’t able to pick up on at the age of twenty, when my whole life had been dedicated to how brain functions but not, exactly, the emotions that run through them, too.

“But it never works out, does it?” Cato Lucretius shot back, looking at me with pained and angry eyes. “When’s the last time we got to go out? You said you would come with me to my colleague’s party the other night. And you forgot, didn’t you?”

Accusation after accusation as I stood there with a ladle in my hand and my lips parted, because yes. Yes, I had forgotten. But I hadn’t meant to. The day he was referencing was nonstop. I hadn’t even been able to come back to the apartment between surgeries. Older, wiser me would have been able to do something, to put this man in his place. Twenty year old Laelia just wasn’t sure what was happening or what she had done to make him so angry.

“Yes,” she had said, and that’s what it feels like, as I think about this turning point of a night now - like I’m watching in third person. “Yes, I forgot, but... but I told you that I wasn’t able to leave, Cato. I’m very sorry, I didn’t realize that it was so important to you, but--”

“I’m making a big deal out of it, aren’t I?” And just as quickly as he had been angry, he was smiling at me, and I felt... unsettled, in a word. “I’m sorry, Laelia. Forgive me. I suppose I must have had a bad day today.”

Whiplash. That was the day it started - or, at least, the day I began to notice it starting. Cato Lucretius was changing in how he spoke to me, in how he looked at me, and so was the regard he held me in. What was once my ‘brilliance’ was my ‘cockiness,’ and what was my dedication to my work was a force driving us apart, no matter how hard I tried to yield to his requests.

And all the while, this man was starting to fail his classes. Professors were sending back essays with bundles of criticism. He was slipping up, and the golden boy with the flawless smile that I met at the ball in the winter was now beginning to lose his gentleness and his geniality, unless he was drinking. And when he drank, all the venom he felt for me would come spewing out.

“You think you’re so smart,” he would sneer as he slouched in his chair by the fire. “You made a big splash, and now you think you’re too good for anyone, don’t you? What’s going on that has you out at all hours? Are you having an affair?”

“That’s enough,” I had snapped, slamming my glass down on the counter. He raised his voice at me, and I raised mine. Our fights became infamous in the apartment building. I had never been the type to shout. That wasn’t the way to get a point across, but no one infuriated - and hurt me - like Cato Lucretius did. He made my ice turn to fire, my quiet and composed way of dealing with things seem unhinged and furious.

And it was becoming clearer and clearer that any support he had for the Populares was... surface level. Certainly, he was prepared to speak out against the oppressive government, but... I have to wonder if that’s because it was the popular opinion amongst our circle. He clung to his status and the wealth of his parents in a desperate sort of way. I often wonder how much of anything he spoke passionately about that he really meant, and how much of it was manipulation to make him look good. I fear that the answer would be troubling and disheartening both.

A warm, sunlit garden that we had planted in the spring was starting to die come the fall. Our honeymoon period was over, and I didn’t know what to do.

Many times, Cato Lucretius would coerce me into bed, to have sex that was angry and rough, that screamed that we hated each other in those moments. I never really said ‘yes.’ I just gave in to his nagging, to make him be quiet, to stop accusing me of affairs that didn’t exist.

“If you loved me...”

He loved that one. ‘If you loved me, you’ll sleep with me. If you loved me, you’d make more time. If you loved me, you would stop asking me where I go late at night.’ ‘If I have to trust you, don’t you have to trust me?’

The difference is that I never came home smelling of someone else’s perfume or cologne like he did, or with a wine that he didn’t drink still clinging to my lips.

Giving up Cato Lucretius was difficult. He was nowhere near as creatively gifted as he wanted to be, and if I’m being honest with myself, I have to wonder if the vague similarities he shared with my Cato are what made me stay. They wrote, and they were both like light - even if Cato Lucretius’ light was rapidly fading - and they both, at one time, made me feel safe.

I remember curling up on the bathroom floor and simply sobbing into my arms, overcome with a grief that was too unbearable to speak aloud. More often than not, I would say Cato Lucretius’ name and think of Cato Benes - of the soldier boy who had paid the ultimate price, of the one in all of my dreams, who dried my tears when I slept and told me everything would be alright.

Often, as things got more difficult in my relationship, I dreamt of that farewell ball for Cato rem Benes. I dreamt it over and over again - arriving late and anonymous in a beautiful gown, and making him laugh, all with the knowledge of what was to come that I was forbidden to speak. And the dreams ended the same - me, forcing myself to leave Cato rem Benes alone on a balcony before collapsing in the gardens and being overcome with grief.

Those are the dreams I would wake from in tears, sometimes screaming my anguish, begging to please just bring me back to that night, so that I could tell him not to go, to plead and block him from his departure if I had to--

And it was easy to lie to Cato Lucretius about when I screamed the name ‘Cato,’ because I could tell him I was having nightmares of something terrible happening to him. But maybe part of him knew. Maybe a part of him had always known that my heart was never fully with him.

I still don’t think, though, that I deserved his cruelty for it. I was young, and inexperienced in so many things, and mourning the loss of someone who had so deeply impacted me as a young girl. Even seeing Cato rem Benes’ parents were difficult. Seeing Lucius in a hospital, or sitting and listening to one of Theodosia’s performances... I always kept up with them - quietly, and in the shadows, but I tried to. My heart broke to hear the stories of what Caius was becoming. I wept bitterly when Solina left, knowing how deeply the family hurt when their children hurt, knowing just how the loss of Cato rem Benes had affected him.

And there was a part of me that felt like it knew more, too, like... I could sense something in the future. Of course, I was a woman of science. Looking back, yes - in a strange way, and thanks to kami meddling, I did know. I knew the painful endings and the happy endings both, but to not be able to explain those feelings was often agonizing. And the more my relationship with Cato Lucretius began to fraction, the more I felt it.

The more I felt that something just hadn’t ended right, that a book that was meant to be closed had simply been paused.

The day I found his love letters from another woman beneath our bed and his collar stained with a coral lipstick that I wouldn’t wear came almost as a relief. Of course, it broke my heart. Spring had come around again, with a surprising melt in the snow. We had spent a year around each other, committed to each other - or, at least, one of us had been committed to the other. When I asked how long, just how long had he been betraying my trust, he was vague. When I asked how many times, he had simply shrugged, staring into the fire.

“How many hours were you too busy being brilliant to give me?”

“You’re casting yourself as dependent and lonely to get out of being accountable for being a dickhead,” I had told him, tossing the letters that he’d so obviously read over and over directly into the fire. “For being the worst of men.”

“We could try to fix this, Laelia,” he had said, running his hands over his face before standing up to face me, to try to reach out to me. “I messed up, darling. I messed up so badly, but if you give me another chance--”

“Haven’t you heard, Lucretius?” I asked him, smiling. “Goodness, I thought you would have, but... I simply just don’t have the time to give you that. I have very brilliant and much more important things to be doing than wasting my godsdamned time on this - you manipulative, lying, tiny pricked bastard.”

When I slammed that apartment door with a box of my things in my arms with that man crying like an infant, it was liberating. I was free of his cruelty and his coercion. I suppose I could thank him, though, for the beginnings of the spine that I became so famous for.

For the spine that Cato rem Benes will always love me for having. And Cato rem Benes is, was, and always will truly be spring - the true herald of new beginnings, of promises that the long winters would end into a blossoming, glowing new world.

#ffxiv rp #ff14 rp #writing #tw relationship abuse #sort of #?

9 notes · View notes

saladejin · 4 years

Text

Call An Uber? | 01

BTS x Reader | idolverse au, uber driver!Reader, translator!Reader | Fluff, flirting, super slow burn, angst and hurt/comfort, mature themes and eventual smut

Summary: Your normal life with a normal, yet inconsistent job gets drastically changed when your dreams come true. Sounds boring right?

What happens when all of this occurs, but you’re still doing something you love AND getting a large sum for it? Now there’s something to think about, and it’s definitely not what you’re thinking.

Warnings: Mild swearing, hysterical fan behaviour

Word Count: 7.1k (Chapter 1 is longer than usual)

A/N: Okay, so in my next phase of finally crossposting my works to tumblr, I’m adding this massive multi-chapter fic.

I began this slow-burner (emphasis on slow-burn) a couple of years ago, so it’s easy to see how my writing has changed and evolved throughout.

Basically, I wanted to imagine what it would be like to have one of those ‘chance encounters’ every fan has thought of at least once. Thus, this fic was born, and though it is full of coincidences and wishful thinking, I always try to work realistically to make it enjoyable (and not as foolish as the premise makes it sound).

I hope you enjoy the ride, and feel free to check out the rest on my Ao3 in the meantime while I try my best to transfer everything in an orderly fashion! <3

»»————- << masterpost | next >>　————-««

Reader 1st person POV

Imagine being asked to remember the most boring day of your whole existence. If you're anything like me, then it's a bit hard to recall...but for once I was certain.

Today was that day.

Or it was, until something outrageous happened. Something so unprecedented and so unbelievable that I struggle to recall it at all.

I suppose I'll give it my best shot anyway.

A clear and uneventful morning leading straight into the annoyingly peaceful afternoon, and I had still only picked up and dropped off a measly number of people. Yes, being an Uber driver had its ups and downs, and I had been one for about a year and a half already. It paid decently enough most of the time, and the job just worked hand-in-hand with the flashy new car leaving a gaping hole in my bank account.

Despite all these alleged perks, today had been an obviously gruelling exception.

The lack of activity could be blamed on a number of scenarios, for instance a public holiday or event stirring attention somewhere else. Whatever it was, it was decreasing the number of customers in this usually bustling city of Seoul much to my dismay. I needed good cash, and I’d been working my ass off lately in order to get exactly that. Even closing myself off to social media and other forms of communication with friends helped me focus solely on working nowadays.

I need a real job…

Then suddenly, even as cliché as it sounds, God decided to answer all of my prayers. A loud ding emitted from my phone and I almost veered off the road in sheer astonishment.

“Thank the Lord!” I pulled up quickly onto the curb and examined the Uber request, almost questioning if I had imagined the whole thing out of desperation.

The name read ‘J’. Literally just the letter, boldly sitting in the middle of my screen. I raised an eyebrow, and normally would have considered declining the request if it seemed too prank-worthy, but I needed this job. I didn’t think the person had even registered or used the service before, as there wasn’t a clear rating to be seen anywhere. Once again...I needed this job.

The pinpoint appeared nearby, and luckily it was only about a five-minute drive to reach the destination. It was located just outside a large shopping mall in central Seoul, and even though this was a seemingly quiet day, it shouldn’t have been this empty. There were of course a few groups of people and individual shoppers wandering about, in and out of the entrance looking for easy buys. Even so, I knew this place to be quite popular and to say I was astounded would be an understatement.

There must be something going on in the city somewhere.

Making a grab for my phone about three minutes after looking around for ‘J’, I considered sending him or her a text to ask where they were. The place was basically empty, so spotting someone on the lookout for their ride shouldn’t have been too difficult.

“They mustn’t be out yet.” I clucked quietly to myself, typing out a message to indicate I had arrived.

The gentle hum of my engine was the only sound accompanying me as I waited. After another thirty seconds, I received a short reply of “there soon”. I glanced at the simple words a second time before lightly scoffing.

“Okay ‘J’, I’m in no rush.”

Still amused over the less than eloquent reply, I leant back into my comfortable leather seat and hummed to myself to pass some time. I would’ve usually had the radio going, but for now I wasn’t really in the mood for any background distractions. I liked silence when it was comfortable, and especially in a place such as this shopping mall, it was rare to come by.

The reverie was soon shattered when faint sounds of various screams erupted from somewhere in the distance, and I instantly jerked my head up with squinted eyes to observe the area. Tinted car windows revealed just enough of the area to discern an overall lack of movement.

The paved courtyard outside the mall wasn’t occupied by a single human being, which was even stranger than before. The only moving things I could eventually see where a couple of dirtied napkins being thrown around in the slight breeze, and a ripped paper cup from a popular juice bar rolling around caught in the same fate.

The frantic screaming continued. Should I be worried? The shouting wasn’t in terror or anger, that much I was sure of. I usually would pin it on some brawl breaking out nearby, but these sounds where mostly female when I listened closer. In any sense, it definitely sounded extreme.

I wondered briefly if there was some massive sale happening at a famous clothes brand down the street, causing a flurry of panic within female shoppers. The anticipation from the sounds caused me to tap my fingers on the steering wheel in curiosity.

Then it happened. An enormous group of Korean women and probably a few men, some looking fairly young, flocked around the corner of a building in an intense hurry.

Was the sale here or something??

My eyes widened in shock, as the group only seemed to be growing in numbers. Many were holding their phones out, as if recording something, and I scanned the rapidly moving crowd with anxious eyes to spot the source of the commotion.

Two well-dressed men seemed to be caught in the centre of it all. The pair that stemmed this chaotic crowd were clad from head to toe in designer clothes, including darkly coloured masks and sunglasses, not to mention the hoods covering their heads. The shorter of the two donned a lighter colour palette through a milky white button-up, while the other was dressed in a charcoal black hoodie and black ripped jeans.

They appeared to be trying to escape the bundling mass of people, as they moved quickly and swiftly ahead of the horde in their haste. I gripped the wheel in surprise. The screams where deafening and I could feel them grating my nerves. I hoped my client would not be caught in this mess. I wanted out, and I wanted out as soon as possible.

Maybe they’re famous, maybe idols?

A small excitement sparked at that thought, but I was still daunted by the scene playing out in front of me. If they were idols, I felt incredibly sorry for them. This was a clear breach of privacy and personal space, and they didn’t deserve it at all. This was the reason for hatred against K-pop fandoms all around the world.

“Who do they think they are?” I found myself muttering, eyebrows furrowing in disappointment.

Suddenly, the more brightly dressed man glanced around and pointed directly at my car, turning to his well-built friend to shout something following a flurry of gestures. I stiffened and my breath hitched when both started sprinting towards me, their fans following desperately to try and at least touch them.

Oh no.

My breathing sped up and the situation finally dawned on me. The empty mall, the shady name and blunt text response. The timing…

I unlocked all my doors and gripped the wheel harder, if that was even possible. The mass of people followed the two guys as they drew closer to my car, and I prayed to God that they didn’t leave any scratches or dents by the time I was gone. The one that acknowledged me first reached the car, and I jumped slightly when he opened the passenger door and clambered in swiftly. The other darkly dressed one threw himself in the backseat next and I jumped again when both doors slammed shut simultaneously.

“Hello!” The first guy cleared his throat from where he sat next to me and I could see he was bouncing his knee in apprehension, obviously wanting to scoot the fuck out of there, but still trying to be polite towards me. His breathing was shallow, and I could see large beads of sweat rolling down the side of his half-hidden face. I was in no mood to sit around and ponder about him.

“To hell with this!” I exclaimed with a squeak, and the second after the passenger door closed I shifted the gearstick and floored the pedal. Making sure that no people were in my way before skidding slightly around the pick-up bend. Only the sound of one singular hand slapping the boot of my car made me wince, but I was glad there was no other physical contact on my precious red Hyundai.

Only the sound of laboured breathing could be heard amongst sighs of relief as we pulled away from the mall. I looked into the rear-view mirror to see some people giving a hearty chase down the road, but most of the fans had broken away and were just waving towards my car as we rolled down the street.

Adrenaline was pumping through my veins, and I could feel a small smile resting on my face at the thought of escaping something like that. What a turn of events for this tedious day! A muffled gasp caught my attention and I looked into my mirror again to see the darkly dressed guy’s eyes screwed shut as he laughed breathlessly, one hand slapping his knee. His friend was just leaning his head back against the headrest as he gulped in large breaths of oxygen through his plump lips. They had both pulled down their masks and lifted their shaded glasses to catch their breaths, but the sight caused my own eyes to widen dangerously.

Holy shit on a stick, Park Jimin and Jeon Jungkook are sitting in my car. What in the ever-loving…

My breathing hitched at the realisation, but I continued to drive steadily. The thing I needed to focus on most of all was getting away from the crazy population of the city. I knew internally I was freaking out a little at the thought of members of my favourite boyband sitting in my own car, but I kept it under wraps knowing they would definitely not appreciate another bout of whatever that shemozzle was before.

I guess nothing goes unnoticed when you’re that famous. Why the hell were they alone?

Jungkook stopped laughing as he looked at my wide-eyed and slightly terrified expression. He suddenly grew apologetic due to his unexplained laughing.

“Sorry, uh, just how you drove off… sorry.” His voice died down as he gradually started to regain his composure, and I watched a shy demeanour suddenly take over his form, as if he had been hit with a realisation of overstepping his bounds. Jimin just turned and glanced pointedly at him, and then back at me to search wearily for a response.

“No it’s fine, I’m just a tad shaken,” I huffed out an exasperated breath, amusement showing on my features at the maknae’s sudden behaviour change. The idol next to me cleared his throat as I turned another corner, luckily no traffic barred my way and I was easily able to fly down the main road.

“We’re very sorry for what happened back there, that was probably quite troublesome for you. We apologise for the inconvenience.”

“Seriously don’t worry. You guys definitely needed an escape from…that. I’m glad to help, honestly.” I smiled to ease any worry radiating from the two flustered boys. “J, right?”

I glanced upwards into the mirror to lock eyes with Jungkook, not missing the way Jimin tried to conceal a smirk from the younger member. “Ah, he’s not that creative with names it seems.”

The older boy’s melodic speaking voice caused my lips to part in an involuntary breath of awe. I had always loved Park Jimin’s voice, whether it be singing or speaking or doing literally anything. Jungkook’s amused exhale and gentle chuckle also made me quite soft.

“Ah, sorry about my rude message too.” He looked downwards and bowed slightly. I noticed how politely he spoke and my insides turned to jelly once again. I felt warm and fluffy from their pleasant mannerisms.

“Don’t worry guys, how could I expect an essay when you were running for your lives?”

The two boys couldn’t contain their amused smiles as they exchanged another glance, seemingly conflicted. I could tell they didn’t know quite what to do with themselves in this situation, as they surely seldom had to get rides from anyone else other than their own personal drivers. I saw Jimin’s brows crease in concentration next to me, as if he was trying to figure out how to maintain his sense of professionalism. His hands fidgeted with the hem of his shirt anxiously.

“You guys may want to start with an explanation, if that’s alright?” I decided to help them out a small bit. If I could establish a comfortable atmosphere here, it would be much easier to converse and work out what to do.

“I notice that you put the next street over as your destination, but I’m fairly sure you’d both want to go further than that.” I made my point with a raised eyebrow and gestured to my phone sitting on the dashboard, destination showing clearly across the bottom of the screen.

Jimin clicked his tongue and leant in to read my phone more clearly. My skin tingles at his closer proximity.

“Seriously Jungkookie, any other place would’ve been better,” he eventually spoke, and although his tone was whiny with complaint, I could see the traces of a smile dancing across his features. He was obviously trying his best to remain stern.

“Ah, sorry hyung. I didn’t have all that much time in this case, did you forget?”

The cheek of this boy.

Jimin turned around and pointed at the younger boy while failing to hold back a giggle.

“Oi, show some respect you brat.”

Jungkook was snickering to himself, and I couldn’t help the smirk from tugging at my lips involuntarily. The group these guys came from always had this certain dynamic of playful teasing that won over so many fans. I included myself in that list honestly, as I always managed to have a good laugh watching their energetic interactions. It made me feel so youthful, as though an inner child would come out to play even though I was still adolescent at the age of 22.

They were fine joking around with themselves for a bit, but I could tell they were still very conscious of me and my presence in the car. They stopped chuckling and Jungkook cleared his throat noticeably in the back, silently handing over the responsibility of the situation to his elder.

“Um, sorry about that as well,” Jimin began to launch into a heartfelt apology, his bouncy blonde hair lowering with his head in a meaningful bow. I stopped him softly with a smile and made steady eye contact for a couple of seconds. His oak-brown eyes were confused, and I knew he was trying his best to deal with the situation properly. Just as his leader would.

“It’s fine, no more apologies please,” I requested warmly, easing the tension as he leant backwards in his seat to relax.

“I just want to know how you both ended up there, if you don’t mind sharing that is. Also feel free to give me somewhere to drop you both off.”

Jimin glanced over at me once more as if calculating my chances of being a threat. I made sure to keep my expression calm and clear while focusing on the empty road in front of me.

“Do you know us?” the sudden question from behind caused Jimin’s head to snap backwards, and my heartbeat to speed up incredibly. It wasn’t an accusing tone Jungkook used, but more on the curious side. Jimin still showed slight disapproval before turning his gaze back to me, a newfound curiosity also flashing across his features. It seemed he became a little shy after the topic of their fame rolled around, but I could tell he still wanted to know pretty badly.

“I’d consider myself a pretty big fan, not insane but you get what I mean,” I managed to force out, swallowing the lump in my throat at the thought of explaining my admiration for them.

They were literally sitting in my car and I never thought I would be shy, but here I was with an embarrassed blush alighting across my face. Jimin widened his eyes next to me, his mouth parting slightly in his shock. Jungkook inhaled a sharp breath before letting out another hearty chuckle.

“Wow! I never would have known.”

“Neither, I guess you must not be as emotional as many ARMY are when they see us,” Jimin smiled at the thought, and it was easy to say he didn’t mean anything bad by the comment.

“I’m just here to do my job. I’m not usually one to express my emotions that intensely, but I’ll let you both know that you’ve made my entire day.”

I saw Jimin turn his radiant smile towards me with an abashed sound falling from his lips. “Thank you, you’ve done so much for us already. Thank you for rescuing us.”

I saw him throw a questioning glance at Jungkook, who in turn squinted his doe-like eyes in confusion.

“It’s (Y/n). You can use honorifics if you want, but I don’t care much for them,” I explained softly, easing his sudden bout of guilt for not even knowing my name.

“Ah, thanks once again (Y/n)-ssi.”

Both of the boys were nervous, as they had just learned that I was a fan and were probably expecting me to flip out on them at any given moment. I knew Jungkook was shy around girls especially, but even he was kind of uncharacteristically silent in the back.

“Don’t worry, I’m not going to freak out on you,” I assured them, keeping my eyes fixated on the road with a mostly amused expression. “I’m curious as to why you guys were alone with no protection out there. That usually doesn’t seem to happen.”

“No, definitely not,” Jimin sighed and I heard Jungkook hum in agreement.

“We didn’t mean to get separated from the others, we were all meant to just be shopping,” Jungkook huffed, and I could tell the young man was still shaken from his escapade from the mall. His large dark eyes were still slightly widened from the adrenaline spike.

“Yeah, everyone was together, and then we weren’t. Then the fans appeared and all we could do was run. Jungkook had to download Uber and make an account and everything on the spot. Lucky you were there because our drivers weren’t going to be around until a few more hours,” Jimin provided, his voice rough and raspy with weariness and relief. I could tell the shorter member was finally beginning to relax in the presence of the vehicle.

“Shit, I gotta call the Boss!” Jimin whipped out his phone and groaned when he discovered a couple of missed calls from his manager already.

I gave him a nod to let him know he could make the call safely. I wouldn’t record it or anything shady like that, I respected them too much and it wasn’t in my nature at all. Jimin gazed over a final time before finally deciding to place his full trust in me. I was already driving the car he was hitching a ride in, so trust honestly couldn't have mattered less when both of their lives were pretty much already cradled in my hands.

“I’d like to thank you as well (Y/n)-ssi, you really did save us back there,” Jungkook commented quietly as he leaned forward so I could hear. Neither of us wanted to interrupt Jimin as he fell into a heated discussion with his manager, or possibly Namjoon from the sounds of his replies over the phone.

“It’s okay Jungkookie, I know you guys deserve a much-needed break after all that. Sit back and enjoy the ride is all I'll say,” I said with a sigh, and finally decided to relax as well by releasing the tension in my muscles to sit more comfortably. I noticed Jungkook smirk cutely at the nickname accidently slipping out, and was just glad that he didn’t find it inappropriate.

“No, I swear she’s fine. She won’t do anything like that hyung,” Jimin’s suddenly louder response caused my smile to drop and my eyes to swivel around to the blonde boy. His temperament had grown agitated and I could see he was having difficulty trying to convince his managers and group leader. His round cheeks were blown out in exasperation, and I could clearly read the worry flitting across his expression.

“Jimin-ssi, if he wants to talk to me he can,” I offered softly so I didn’t spook him, raising my eyebrows in encouragement. We’d travelled a fair way, so pulling over was an option even though it was probably still too dangerous to linger in one place for long.

“No thanks it’s fine, I do trust you.” Jimin shook his head and I couldn’t help but smile at his kind, yet stubborn nature. These boys had no idea who I was, yet they put their faith in me and my driving ability for longer than they even needed to.

Jimin finished up with his call after another few minutes of stressed reassuring.

“Um, (Y/n)-ssi? I have an address I need to put in. If that’s okay.” He turned to me after letting out an explosive sigh, and I nodded towards the phone resting on the dashboard.

“Go ahead, distance isn't an issue.”

Jimin smiled at my response and shyly reached forward for my phone, still trying to be respectful.

“Hyung said it would be ideal if you dropped us off somewhere nearby the dorms so there’s no suspicion, but apparently all nearby areas are swarming with fans trying to figure out what’s going on.”

“Shit,” I breathed, the full realisation dawning on me. If their fans found out who I was, I wouldn’t be left alone for a while. I could imagine receiving threats and loads of unwanted attention, possibly not even being able to leave my house for a few days at the very least.

“So, you’ll have to drop us at the actual dorms then.”

“What?” I questioned in an instant. That sounded like the dumbest thing I’d ever heard.

“Isn’t that the area where most of the fans would be?”

“Well, most likely, but there's security.” Jimin ran a hand down his face as if trying to rub away the sudden bout of stress brought on, and I could fathom just how tired he was from all the rambunctious disorder.

“Why not drive you somewhere far away and get your driver to pick you up or something?”

“I did suggest that, but they just want us back as soon as possible so they can calm everyone down. I don’t mean to be rude, but they can’t exactly know or predict what you’ll do.”

That definitely made sense. Watching another car pull out of the building might also cause the fans to suspect the worst. They could even believe that I kidnapped the two band members instead of saving them. Well, that and there was absolutely no reason for their company to trust me with two of their idols that much.

“Okay, but one of you lend me a mask or something. I’m not going in there with a death wish.”

Jungkook chuckles from the back seat, and I’m slightly startled due to not hearing from the younger boy for a while.

“You’re right though, here you can use mine. I have my hoodie anyway.” A hand appeared next to me holding a familiar black mask, the faint but fragrant smell of a rare cologne wafting around me at the action. Of course, anything he’s worn would smell this expensive. Seeing how normal they can act, it’s hard to remember just how rich they actually are.

“Thanks.” I slipped on the mask and the smell was now stronger. I almost swooned.

“It’s actually not as far as I thought,” I commented when the map displayed the route to take. I knew the traffic was most likely to be more congested in this area than the city mall was before, so I decided to take a couple of back routes.

“Good plan,” Jungkook piped in with a nod and I saw the excited grin plastered on his face.

“What are you so happy about?” Jimin scoffed with a raised brow.

“I dunno, just this whole thing is so… exciting? Nothing like this has ever happened before,” Jungkook replied while trying to smother his grinning, but failing miserably.

“True, you guys would usually be living a careful life, right?” I decided to join in. Jimin and Jungkook didn’t seem to be shy or guarded around me as much as they were, but I knew they were still keeping face amongst all the drama.

“Of course, we don’t want our precious fans to worry about us,” Jimin went on in a level tone, his hand flying up to emphasise his point. I still couldn’t get over how captivating his voice sounded in person, and how it was this close to me...

“Speaking of fans, you’re an ARMY?” Jungkook’s cheeky lilt gained my attention and caused me to look up and lock eyes with him in the rear-view mirror.

“What of it?”

I try to suppress my sharp exhale of amusement, but fail miserably as well. Kookie’s adorable expression of playful confidence, bordering on egotistical even, made the laughter bubble up.

“Well, obviously you’d have a favourite, a bias.”

The question causes me to now laugh loudly, smacking the wheel once.

“Ah, I should’ve seen this coming honestly.”

Jimin clicked his tongue at his junior band member. “As if it matters.”

His voice is also playful, and I can tell he’s just as curious as the maknae by how he looks across at me with raised eyebrows and a small knowing smirk adorning his full lips. They were both taking this as a joke, and I was not going to be any different.

“Of course it matters Jimin, this is the question that decides my fate,” I feigned offense, and watched as his smile caused his eyes to disappear in the cutest, squishiest way imaginable.

Before I could say anything else, an embarrassed blush swarmed my cheeks as I spluttered, “Oh crap, I forgot the honorific.”

“Its fine,” Jimin assured. “You mentioned you don’t care for them before, so I can live without it.”

I smirked at him and shook my head slightly. “You’re actually too nice.”

His melodious chuckle was then interrupted by the mischievous maknae in the back.

“Hey, don’t change the subject hyung. Who’s your favourite member (Y/n)?” I noticed he took instant advantage of the honorific drop, and almost slipped an amused snort.

“Well it’s not either of you, that’s for sure.”

I knew they could tell there was a certain level of sarcasm in my tone, but they still let out varying noises of defeat.

“What, no way. It must be Jin-hyung then,” Jungkook groaned and I couldn't contain a giggle. His narcissistic nature was showing, and this time I wasn’t even sure if it was a joke or not. Jimin chose to pipe in as well, obviously enjoying the mystery that was my ‘supposed Bangtan bias’.

“Nah, I reckon it’s Tae. She’s weird enough to be a perfect match for him.”

Oh my, he really went there.

Both of the boy’s breath hitched, as if they thought I was going take offense and kick them out on the curb.

“Honestly, if you think Tae’s weird then I’m a whole other level. Although I guess I can never know who you guys are behind the screen.”

Jimin visibly relaxed after hearing me take the joke, but then grew serious again after my last comment.

“We’re fairly genuine to our fans, as much as we can be,” He defended, but wasn’t insulted. Jungkook nodded in agreement from the back, still smiling from the joking around that happened before.

“Of course, that’s why you’re one of my favourite groups, but you have to admit it is kind of impossible for someone like me to make a judgement on someone I’ve never met.”

“That is true, I guess. We really do try hard for you guys. I never thought super hard about that,” Jimin looked upwards as he pondered, and I felt proud that I’d gotten more than enough glimpses of both their true natures just from this simple car ride. Though, realistically they could be phenomenal actors and I wouldn’t know any different.

“We may be one of your favourite groups, but I’m still waiting for the member~,” Jungkook started lowly from the back, his sentence breaking off into his famous high pitched giggle when he saw my deadpan expression staring him down in the mirror. Jimin joined in and I sighed in defeat.

“Okay. I don’t have one.”

There’s a small silence, but both boys explosively let out sounds of understanding.

“Ah, you’re one of those.”

I was about to question what Jimin meant, but Jungkook cut me off.

“I was just about to pin her as a Yoongi stan.”

The sudden and serious statement made me cackle, although the sound was muffled by the black fabric of the mask over my mouth.

“Oh boy, you have absolutely no idea. My best friend…” I trailed off as laughter gripped me, almost causing me to veer off the road uncontrollably.

“Jesus Christ, watch out!” Jimin breathlessly squeaked as he made a grab for the wheel to steady the moving car. I gripped the wheel harder in fear, but amusement washed over me once again.

“Hyung did your voice just-”

“Shut up.”

I couldn’t stop the amused snort, but managed to regain control. My chuckles were now borderline wheezes, and I could hear Kookie in the back sharing the same demise.

“As I was saying,” I began, but erupt once more as the memory of Jimin’s voice crack surfaced back to the front of my mind. Jungkook is in shambles, but Jimin is just sitting with his head buried in his hands next to me, shoulders shaking as he tries to avoid his inevitable embarrassment.

“Stoooop.” He drawled it out and reached behind him to smack the chortling maknae on the knee somewhat harshly. I knew he hated the fact that he just got embarrassed in front of some stranger, who had also been established as a pretty avid fan. Poor Chim.

“You forget I’ve seen videos of your many embarrassments,” I offered in between chuckles, and caught the moment his face scrunched up in an adorable cringe. A sigh of defeat fell from his lips. “Yeah, I give up.”

He still chuckled and shook his head, the tinkling sounds causing me to bring a hand up to clutch my chest dramatically. Both boys laughed cutely once again at my reaction, Jimin’s eyes disappearing as he covered his face with one small hand.

“You sure you’re not a Jimin stan, noona?” Jungkook chimes in. I raised a brow and decided to skilfully avoid the question.

“Ah, so you picked up that I’m older than you?”

Jungkook stopped, his jaw going slack at the sudden question, and I found myself face to face with his widely memed blankness instead. I almost can’t contain myself.

“Oh, yeah maybe? It kind of actually just slipped out.”

I find myself giggling at the return of his shy persona, and he smiled bashfully at the floor in response. His tongue pushed out one of his cheeks in shame.

“Yah, don’t assume such a thing,” Jimin chuckled, obviously grateful that the heat was finally off of him.

“Don’t worry, I’m the same age as Jiminie I believe,” I decided to help the poor boy out, craning my neck forward to check the next turn off for oncoming cars.

We were actually almost to the destination, and the trip had flown by way too quickly. After Jungkook made a noise of comprehension, Jimin looked around suddenly and grunted in surprise.

“Crap, I was meant to call Namjoonie back a few minutes ago.”

“What are you doing hyung?” Jungkook chided in flippant scolding, to which Jimin responded with another angered slap. He brought out his phone and dialled a number quickly, obviously not concerned that I could very well easily read and memorise it in two seconds flat.

As If I would anyway.

I fell silent as Jimin waited for the phone call to connect.

Jungkook 3rd person POV

Jungkook also waited, breathless at the thought of how dire the situation was to their careers as a whole. This was such a strange occurrence to the famous band members, and he thought about how normal and relaxed the car ride had actually been when compared to how awkward they thought it was going to turn out.

When Jungkook had made the Uber request originally, he and Jimin were prepared to face the worst. Anyone who had the opportunity to drive a car unsupervised with two famous idols in tow could easily turn the tables and expose them more, or maybe even do worse things…

He shook his head at the thought and silently swallowed the bile rising in his throat. He glanced over to your form sitting in the driver’s seat, stiffened slightly due to the very important call being made.

You had been nothing but kind and understanding so far, not to mention hilariously easy going. Jungkook found himself respecting you immediately. You could have freaked out and demanded autographs or photos from them at any time. You could have decided to not drop them off where they wanted and just continued to drive for eternity. You could have even taken them anywhere you wanted to, but no, you listened to them, respected their privacy and even agreed to risk your reputation to drive them into their dorms where countless fangirls could eat you alive if they found out.

You were just amazing, and Jungkook knew his hyung felt similarly. Well, considering how he defended you without question before when Namjoon probably jumped to conclusions, it was evident that Jimin trusted you too.

Jungkook was completely numb from bewilderment. Everything could have gone wrong for them in their haste to escape the mob of their excited fans, but it didn’t, and it was all thanks to you.

These types of people drive our purpose, we’re so happy to have reached you.

Although if he was honest, he wouldn't mind at all if you got all flustered and cute while gushing over him. Just a little bit.

Reader 1st person POV

I watched as Jimin jerked the phone away from his ear suddenly, a loud voice booming loudly through the tiny speaker to reach even my ears. Jimin’s face winced as he brought the phone back to his ear hesitantly.

“We’re so sorry for the mess Sir, but it worked out.”

I knew that he was most likely talking to his manager or director with how his language changed. He ruffled his blonde hair anxiously and continued to listen to the voice on the line, eventually digging his teeth into his bottom lip in another bout of anxiety.

“Wait, we’re almost to the dorms, she’s got a mask on and everything-” Jimin was cut off and my eyes darted in between him and the road ahead to try and figure out what was happening. His breathing sped up and I could see his own eyes meeting mine a few times worriedly.

What is going on?

We were getting close to the dorms, and I had already noticed how the housing had become wealthier the more I drove through the city. The streets were becoming beautiful and cleaner. I knew that the boys lived in most likely the richest place in the city, and this place was by far the definition of that.

One thing I also noticed is that there were a few groups of girls dotted here and there that were walking or sitting around the footpaths. Some even saw my car and started pointing and taking photos while jumping up and down.

“Well, there goes my anonymity.” I sighed and slumped further in my seat, as if to hide my face better than it was already hidden. The only sound as I drove onwards was Jimin’s occasional reply into the phone next to me. His responses were becoming less worried, but still sounded unenthusiastic.

“Yes, I understand, okay I’ll tell her,” Jimin murmured and I held my breath at the sound of the call being hung up. My curiosity was nothing short of burning, and I instantly turned to the blonde boy when he looked at me pointedly.

“Um, our manager needs you to come in with us so you can speak with him and sign some stuff.”

I look forward again and nod once in understanding. “Yeah, I knew this would most likely happen. Confidentiality, right?”

I crack a smile at the thought of actually going in and meeting the famous Bang Sihyuk, CEO and founder of Bighit Entertainment.

“Wow,” I breathed after fully wrapping my head around what was happening.

“I guess you never thought this would happen.” Jungkook chuckled from the backseat, and I scoffed in disbelief.

“Yeah it’s not every day you meet two members of Bangtan and their producer.”

The sarcasm was heavy, and the two boys grinned in amusement. Jimin leant forwards to rest his forehead on the dashboard in a weary manner. “Ah, I’m so sorry for forcing you into this mess (Y/n)-ssi.”

“What did I say about apologising? I love you guys and your music; this is the least I can do to repay you for all the happiness you have brought me.” My voice became emotional and quiet as I let out all my pent-up feelings. I didn’t know how exactly I could express my bundling thoughts into formed words, but I felt as though that might have been just enough to let them know how ecstatic I truly was that this miracle had happened to me.

“You must be an angel,” Jimin smiled at me so sweetly and genuinely that I had to rip my gaze away from him in order to prevent tearing up. I heard Jungkook sigh in awe at my words, and I looked up to see him smiling shyly at the ground before glancing forward.

“Devoted fans like you are the reason we have made it this far, (Y/n).”

Jimin turns his head and gives Jungkook a look that says 'Well that was fucking sappy' but I can’t help but smile wider and let out a tiny gleeful squeak unknowingly.

His words had caused my emotions to storm again, and I was so fortunate to hear them in person that I didn’t even know what to do with myself. I gripped the wheel tighter so I wouldn’t let go and do anything stupid. Since I had my mask on, they could only see my smile through how my eyes and cheeks bunched up, but unfortunately the mask wasn’t large enough to cover my entire face.

“Awe you’re so cute when you blush like that!” Jimin laughed loudly, reaching out to poke my reddening skin. I gasped and knocked his hand away softly with one of my own.

“Leave me alone, I can’t control it or anything.”

Jungkook was also sniggering in the back, his cheeky nature making a comeback as I shook my head to try and rid myself of the heat.

“Sorry for that noona.”

Now he was using the word to tease me, and I fought the urge to slap him like Jimin did before. “Silly boy, I swear you’ll never make me blush again.”

“You sure about that? I’ll accept the challenge.”

“And we’re here!” I dragged out the first word to hopefully try and cut him off. I could still hear him giggling in the back, his knowing smile holding an impish quality.

The sight before me was spectacular, if that was even enough to sum it up. The area in which BTS lived was absolutely breathtaking, and I knew that this was in fact one of the, if not the richest place in all of Seoul.

The gardens were marvellously well grown and maintained, while the architecture seemed to gleam and glow in the sunlight, too perfectly constructed to be true. Modern was also an understatement, as this place seemed borderline futuristic. To describe it in one word, glorious.

“I don’t even know if someone like me should go in there,” I stammered, my voice cracking multiple times in sheer astonishment.

“Don’t be silly, how else are we gonna get in there?” Jimin joked and I snorted lightly at his change of demeanour.

“Walk, silly.” I shared a cheeky glance with the maknae behind me when Jimin gasped.

“Rude, and here I thought you were a fan?”

“I’m joking Jimin, alright how do we actually do this?” I looked around and saw a parking space out the front of the main building. Jimin gestured towards it and nodded, giving me the go to proceed.

There were no fans lurking around this place due to the security, but I knew I wouldn’t be able to escape any photographers if they were there. Luckily we had only a few brief, yet concerning encounters with the fans while driving in to the complex itself.

If Kookie hadn’t given me the mask I would be dead meat cooking on a spit.

I parked the car carefully and fell back into my seat with a sigh. Jimin and Jungkook eyed me with concern clouding their features.

“We’re so-”

“Park Jimin, will you eventually heed my words?” I tilted my head and blinked rapidly at him with a smile on my face. He sees my playful, yet tired expression and shakes his head with an annoyed groan.

“I probably will never stop apologising for the trouble we’ve caused.”

I sighed again and exaggerated a pout, borderline mockery if you will. Jungkook let out a huff and a click of his tongue indicated the long-awaited comeback of his cocky attitude.

“Come on hyung, she already said it doesn’t matter.”

His tone caused Jimin to narrow his eyes towards the back accusingly, and I watched as the younger member sat back down, satisfied with the reaction.

“Thank you maknae,” I rolled my eyes and suppressed a chuckle at his scoff, catching Jimin’s amused and appreciative look. I observed around one more time before turning my gaze upwards to glance at the building next to us.

“Okay it’s now or never boys, run and don’t look back.”

170 notes · View notes

ncisjes · 4 years

Text

I’d find you in every lifetime

Based off this beautiful gifset by @everythingismadefromdreams and this drabble by @mcgeekle where Ziva is prosecuting a case the team worked. Kudos to them both for creating this amazing AU I am having so much fun writing in. Also a huge thank you to @mcgeekle for letting me continue this.

@benditlikepress @rareshbones

Read on AO3//FF

Take Your Time

Sipping her second drink of the night, she sits at the bar alone watching what feels like the same old news on ZNN. Being stood up was a rare occurrence for her, but this time she really could not fault the man. In the past two weeks they had agreed to get drinks after work on three separate occasions, and all three times she had bailed to work late.

The Simmons case was moving along on schedule, but it was still too early to tell how the jury was leaning. Her opening argument was flawless, but the expert witnesses had not fared as well as she had hoped under the scrutiny of the defendants defense team. Their one hundred thousand dollar an hour retainer was clearly paying off for their client.

Regardless of whatever lead the defense had, she was still determined as ever to win this case. Being new to DC, she needed to establish herself as a capable prosecutor. Her track record here had a much slower start than in New York, but that was mostly suffering through learning the quirks of the system and the judges preferences. She always knew the legal field was cutthroat, but D.C. gave New York a run for its money.

Luckily for her, the jury had yet to hear from the investigators whose findings built her entire case. She had planned to call Leroy Jethro Gibbs as her first witness, but as life would have it an emergency case had popped up keeping him and his team from attending the hearing.

Though it had been a month since she had seen him, she had to admit she found herself thinking about Special Agent DiNozzo quite a lot lately. While his delivery could have been better, his charm was what intrigued her to invite him back to her office to try his luck again at asking her out once the hearing had concluded. There was just something about him that she couldn’t quite put her finger on. Wondering what he would be doing on a Friday night like tonight, she imagined him sweet talking his way into some unsuspecting co-ed’s bed for the night.

Taking a long slow sip of her drink, she scans the room in hopes of finding someone to take home herself. Her eyes begin sizing up each prospect, noting their features and what she would like to do with them. Her gaze locks on a brunette that is all legs with grayish brown eyes which jogs her memory of a night a few months back. She cannot remember the woman’s name, but the curl of her tongue is still very vivid in Ziva’s mind. Seeing her arm wrapped around the blonde sitting next to her, Ziva continues to scour the room in hopes of repeating the ecstasy her mind just recalled.

Her search comes up empty as everyone in the bar has seemingly paired off. She’s about to signal for her tab and call it a night when she spots him out of the corner of her eye. He’s leaning over the bar talking to the blonde bartender who’s name always escapes Ziva. She laughs and leans over the counter, not only matching Tony’s stance but giving him a much better view down her shirt, Ziva is sure. Her fingers play with the condensation on her glass as she waits for him to notice her. He doesn’t disappoint, leaving the bartender without a second glance a few moments later and hastily making his way to her.

“Ziva David. Fancy finding you here.” Tony leans on the stool next to her.

“Hello Special Agent DiNozzo.”

“I see you’ve forgotten my name all ready.” He fakes offense.

“It is a lawyer thing. We have to be proper in court and it transcends into our personal lives.”

“Deflecting really doesn’t help your case here counselor.”

“I have not forgotten your name, Tony, and I see you have not forgotten your charm.”

“So you do find me charming.”

“I would not go that far.” She smirks.

“So what’s a girl like you doing here alone on a Friday night?”

“Who says I am alone?”

“This seat is pushed too far in for someone to have just gone to the bathroom. Unless of course you’re waiting for someone, but judging by your empty drink and the condensation collecting on it you’ve been waiting for quite a while. Our hot shot lawyer from New York couldn’t have been stood up, now could she?” Returning the victorious smirk she had given him moments before.

“Putting your investigative skills to use on your off time?”

“Only if it means I can sit down here.”

“I do not think that is a good idea.” She cautions him, her eyes going from playful to serious.

“Ah come on, who is going to see us? There’s none of you legal types in here. Plus I’m not your witness. Gibbs is.”

“But you are still a part of his team which makes-”

He waves his hand to shush her, causing her to balk at him.

“One drink.” He holds up his pointer finger as if to make it concrete that they’re only going to have a single cocktail. Somehow she finds herself relenting.

Taking his seat, Tony waves to the bartender he just abandoned to call her over. Arms crossed over her chest she stares back at him, not moving a muscle. He winks and makes the come hither motion with his finger, hoping that all can be forgotten with a really good tip on his tab. She scoffs, throwing the towel she is holding to the ground and walks through the swinging door to the back.

“Guess we won’t be served by her any time soon.” Tony comments, shifting his body towards Ziva. Before she can respond the other bartender approaches.

“Hey, sorry about that. Heidi can take things a little too personal sometimes. I’m Jack. What can I get you?”

“Scotch on the rocks for me and for-”

“I will have another mojito, Jack, thank you.” Ziva answers, effectively cutting Tony off.

“Sure thing.” Jack smiles and winks at her as he saunters off, causing Tony’s jealousy to spike for some unknown reason.

“So, you come here often?” Tony asks, drawing Ziva’s attention back to him.

“Is that what you really wanted to ask me? Generic pick up lines usually work to get girls to take you home with them?”

“I didn’t know that offer was on the table.” He leers at her, grabbing an ice cube from her drink and popping it into his mouth.

“No I do not come here often, and no it is not on the table.” She glares at him.

Jack arrives with their drinks, breaking the small amount of tension that had built up. Tony pays in cash and raises his glass to Ziva.

“To future offers. May they be successful and enjoyable for us both.” He gives her a big toothy grin before touching his glass to hers and taking a swig; his eyes never leaving hers.

Ziva is the first one to break and look away, muttering something under her breath in Hebrew but still finding herself smiling before taking a long drink.

“So tell me, how does the rising star of Mossad find herself practicing law in America?”

“I see you have done your research.”

“It is what I do for a living.”

“Not well enough clearly or you would know the answer. How did one make the jump from Baltimore P.D. to N.C.I.S. with such subpar skills?”

“Answering my question with a question? Deflecting won’t work with me. I use the same tactic all the time on the job. Nice to know you’re doing your own research on me too though.” He winks at her as he takes another sip of his drink.

“For the case-”

“Whatever helps you sleep at night. Now my question?”

Their gazes lock and the power struggle begins between them, sizing the the other up, their pupils dilating and contracting with each breath. Finally giving in, Ziva breaks away to look at the bar door closing before her eyes settle on the ice in her drink, her hand fidgeting with the straw.

“After serving in the Israeli army I joined Mossad at my own volition. I advanced quickly through the ranks, earning awards for my exemplary skills and talents. I had just become a handler when I decided to leave and come to America.”

“What made you do that?”

“My brother.”

Tony stares at her intently but does not push the subject. He can sense she is having difficulty discussing this. She takes a long swig of her drink before continuing.

“He cautioned me about promoting any higher, said I did not know what I was getting myself into or who I was really working for. As a handler, I was given more access and told more secrets, but I still had some plausible deniability in the big picture of how Mossad operates. It was not until he was killed three months later that I realized he was right.”

Tony’s eyes study her body language as she tells him the bits and pieces of what seems like a much longer and much more painful story than what she is letting on. He doesn’t push the subject, instead letting the silence fall comfortably between them.

“You did not ask me.” She comments after a few moments pass and the drinks lessen in their glasses.

“What's that?”

“The one question everyone wants to know; how he died.”

He doesn’t meet her eyes as he finishes his drink.

“I figured if you wanted to share you would.”

She twirls the last of her mojito in her glass, watching the clear liquid dance through the crystal ice cubes. Pausing as if she is really considering divulging the information.

“He killed a member of the secret service, Special Agent Caitlyn Todd. He was killed shortly after by what was reported as a terrorist bombing but really was Mossad cleaning up their mess.”

Tony’s whole body tenses, not only because he knew Special Agent Todd but because he remembered the bombing that occurred following her death. The reports played for days on ZNN of the horrific injuries people had suffered caused by excessive shrapnel intended to inflict the most pain. The death toll seemed to climb by the second.

“After his death I was obsessed with getting revenge. I had already lost a sister to a Hamas bombing and to have my brother taken from me the same way… I was determined to bring whoever took him from me forward. When I found out it was ordered by my own director… I could no longer remain loyal to an organization that operated that way.”

Grabbing her glass, she drains the last of her drink before slamming it back on the bar nearly causing it to shatter.

“I decided to come to America to bring justice for those who could not get justice for themselves.”

Her eyes are downcast as her fingers play with the condensation on her glass once again. Tony takes a moment to collect himself before tentatively reaching to touch her shoulder.

“Hey, I’m sorry for your loss, and I’m glad you’re here.”

She gives him a shy smile, leaning into his touch. They stare at each other for a few moments before Tony breaks the contact.

“Worked a case with Kate Todd. She was a good Agent.”

Ziva’s eyes widen in shock, not only because he knew her but that they both were affected by the same event.

“I am sorry for your loss.”

“No, I’m sorry to end your night on such a downer. Didn’t mean to bring up such painful memories.”

“It is alright. I did not mind spending it with you.”

The words fall out of her mouth before she realizes what she’s said. Luckily she is saved by a man interrupting them.

“Hey, Tony, sorry to bother you.” He leans on the bar beside him.

“No worries McInterruptus. Ziva David, this is Timothy McGee, the other and less attractive member of Team Gibbs.”

Ziva smiles at the glare he gives Tony before extending her hand.

“It is nice to put a face to the name. I read your report in the Simmons case on how the device’s design was flawed and ultimately caused his death. I was amazed by the immense detail you used and then I found out you have a degree in Biomedical Engineering from Johns Hopkins and a degree in Computer Forensics from MIT. Very impressive.”

“Oh, you’re the prosecutor Tony wouldn’t shut up about and the boss wished he would have sent me to check up on instead.”

Ziva laughs as Tony strikes McGee across the chest.

“Quiet McTattletale.”

“One in the same.” Ziva adds, still laughing.

“Well it’s very nice to meet you Ziva. Tony I hate to steal you away but Abby had too much to drink and is in the bathroom puking. Jardine is in there with her but she’s probably cleaning every surface. We’re probably going to have to carry her out.”

“I told you to watch her Probie.”

“Yeah, you try taking her drink away when she’s ranting about people who say they’re vegetarians but eat chicken.”

“Good point.”

Tony stands to leave, pushing in the chair as he does. He stops to turn to Ziva before walking away.

“Don’t move, I’ll walk you out.”

She doesn’t understand why she listens.

A few moments later Tony and McGee emerge from the back of the bar with Abby between them, each of her arms slung over their shoulders. Ziva sees a woman exit quickly from behind them, clutching her bag tightly to her as if not to touch anything. The group stops in front of her as Abby begins to babble.

“Who’s this? Tony, she's pretty. You’re very pretty.”

“Not now, Abs.”

Tony motions for Ziva to follow them and she grabs her briefcase from the bottom of the bar before walking behind them.

There is a cab waiting outside and McGee drops Abby’s arm to open the door before getting in on the opposite side. Tony struggles to keep Abby upright as she goes limp in his arms. Ziva comes up from behind to grab her other side and help get her into the car. She settles in the backseat with her head in McGee’s lap.

“Tony did you get her number? Get her number!” Abby calls out as Tony moves to close the door.

“We have her number Abby.”

“It was nice meeting you!” McGee yells out to Ziva.

Tony finally shuts the door, letting out a loud breath, his hand wiping over his face.

“Sorry about that.”

“It is quite alright. It is nice to see people taking care of other people.”

“Do you want to share a cab?”

“No, I actually live right down there.” She points to a grey building a little ways down the street.

“Oh so you do come here often.”

They both laugh at the implication.

“Well I guess this is goodnight then.”

“Yes, goodnight Tony.”

“Goodnight.”

He extends his hand and she meets him in the middle. The touch lingers for a little while too long, sparking electricity in them both. After several moments, Ziva finally breaks away, turning on her heel to walk away. He watches her walk until she makes it to her building, his eyes enjoying the way her legs strut in her tight pencil skirt. She pauses to wave to him before unlocking the door and going in. Tony turns to heads home, feeling excited for the first time in his career to attend court.

#TIVA #TIVA fanfic #Ziva David #Tony DiNozzo #AU #yes this will be continued #my wiritng #SCREAMING BECAUSE THIS IS FINALLY DONE

28 notes · View notes

meteor-cities · 4 years

Text

Þú ert jörðin | Feitan Portor

Yeah yeah I know I don’t write all the fucking time anymore. Anyways, I thought I might put something up and it’s really not a canon idea of mine but who cares?

CW: Mention of wounds

You sat at the vanity in your room, watching the rain, not daring to address the bruises and open wounds that covered your shoulders.

It was 5 in the morning, hence the sky started turning to a lighter shade of gray than it had been for the past few hours. You couldn’t truly sleep, despite taking many measures to relieve your lingering pain from the events that occurred earlier that night.

You didn’t turn on the light. You didn’t put on your clothes. You didn’t return to the bed, where your lover was sleeping. You didn’t make any noise and you didn’t move. The thought of provoking Feitan, the man you’ve loved for a long time, was one you didn’t cope with well. He hated being woken up. More than the typical sleep lover would.

You exhaled slowly, glancing at the mirror in front of you. The blood had long ago disappeared after you showered, however, the bite marks and scratches and cuts still had traces of dried blood that would hurt to touch.

You pondered over the methods you’d need to use in order to cover them up. Bruises were easy. Open wounds, not so much.

Some of them would definitely scar, which wasn’t a problem. The smooth, pale scars you’d accumulated over the years from nothing but rough interactions with Feitan were some of the few things you found enjoyment in. Abuse, people who had no idea of your dynamics would call it. However, you’d asked for them. Begged, even. Your masochistic nature was what drove you into such a complex relationship. It wasn’t something people would understand, except for maybe other people who did many of the same things as you and Feitan had. The only difference is that Feitan rarely showed mercy. He liked fear, he liked it when you cried and when things got pushed to the border of consensual and non-consensual touch. You enjoyed it, too. You never complained, and you never would. This is what you begged for. Regardless of how things had ended up.

You glanced at the time. Soon. Soon you’d have to stop sitting naked in front of your messy vanity and decide to reach for the scar creams and concealers and color correction products. Soon you’d have to get dressed, make coffee, make his coffee, find something for yourself to eat, leave to go to work.

Your thoughts were disturbed after you automatically reached for the scar cream in the drawer of your vanity. You heard shifting, then you felt some type of warmth on your shoulders. You looked in the mirror.

“It’s a little early for you to be awake, don’t you think?”

Feitan was obviously still tired, but nonetheless he was awake, standing behind you, making eye contact with you in the mirror with his hands on your shoulders, moving down to your sides. You nodded slowly.

“I couldn’t sleep. Did I wake you? I’m sorry.”

Feitan shook his head automatically, sighing. You checked the time again. He didn’t have to be awake for another few hours, two at the least, you’d guessed. So why was he awake now?

“You look cold,” he muttered, running his hands over the bumps on your arms. You’d adjusted to the temperature of the room a while ago, so you hadn’t noticed the goose bumps on your skin. You shook your head.

“It doesn’t bother me.”

The feeling on your skin was strange. It was very much his touch, sure. But this time there was some sort of emotion towards it. One that was different from either of his two defaults: lust and indifference. You looked up. He seemed to be thinking.

“Feitan.”

He looked at you, raising an eyebrow, acting as though he hadn’t spaced out into some other world you couldn’t touch.

“What’s on your mind?”

A confused look appeared on his face. You rarely asked this; usually it was because you were trying to figure out a behavior of his that wasn’t typical of himself. He thought for a moment again, replaying his actions from the time he woke up. He guessed that maybe it was because he was being gentle, being human for once. It wasn’t like those things didn’t exist in his personality; he certainly had his moments. But they were rare. Even if you’d known him from the time you were kids, only knowing him as someone who worked for your older brother, and having worked alongside the pair for some time since you two had become teens. You rarely saw a calm moment for the man, minus the times he spent reading or thinking or sleeping. Even then, though, he’d had some disturbance.

They were rare, yes. But not out of character.

Feitan let out a sigh, running his fingers through your now dry hair. You closed your eyes, enjoying the slight tug that came with him detangling your hair with his fingers.

“Darling, how long have I known you?” he’d asked. This wasn’t a question you were used to receiving minus the times he wanted to prove a point. You shrugged.

“Many years, Feitan. Many, many years.”

He nodded, pulling the cream from your hands and opening the small bottle, slowly applying it to the new wounds. Also not a common action, but sometimes he’d do it to reflect on the actions that created such violent features onto your skin.

This time he had another motive.

He paused, examining the numerous bruises and abrasions he’d inflicted. “Why do you let me do things that hurt you?”

You held your breath, exhaling after a moment, returning yourself the the present world. Preparing your answer.

“I don’t know.. Maybe because there’s never been an ill intent. You’ve never tried to kill me. You’ve never done things that damaged me later on. You’ve never wanted something I didn’t, I guess. If you needed to kill, you found something or someone else to soothe the need, but it was never me. Never my family, never my friends and especially never Chrollo.”

He thought over this answer for some time, returning to the gentle application of the cream to your broken skin.

“Except, I’ve had so many urges to kill Chrollo.. Many times for selfish reasons..”

“Like what?”

He paused, making eye contact in the mirror again. You knew the answer, and he knew that, but he also knew you wanted to hear it from him.

“Like wanting you for myself,” he muttered. You nodded. It was an answer you’ve heard many times, mostly for the times you asked him why he did away with someone who’d been hurting you or interfering with his plans he had in mind that included you in some sick way at times.

“Feitan. Do you know what love means?”

He stopped, nearly dropping the tube of cream in his hands. The question caught him off guard, since nobody dared to discuss the topic with him. Not even you, at least until now. Love wasn’t a concept the two of you discussed. You never discussed concrete concepts either, like relationship roles. Had anybody asked, you preferred to call him your husband, yet nothing of the sort was ever established between either of you. You knew him to be someone you adored and you knew he thought of you as something that belonged to him, regardless if it was in an objectifying sense or not. Neither of you spoke the word ‘love’ to each other. It simply was deemed unnecessary to the both of you.

And you knew it was because both of you knew that both of you thought of it. Both of you would give up anything for the other. So there was no need to speak it into the world if it could be seen in how the two of you acted towards the other.

You hummed, standing up and grabbing the robe you’d discarded to the side, putting onto your body. He watched you carefully, some of the sadistic motives remaining in his expression, even if it was diluted to the point where he could control it.

“You love me, Feitan. Even if you don’t say you do. You always have. Maybe in some sick, complex way that only you and I and maybe the Troupe understand, but I’m yours, and you’re happy.”

He listened, nodding slowly. You were right, he knew that. He wouldn’t try to object to it.

“I don’t need to hear it ever, Fei, not ever. And I hope the same applies to me, yet I’ll say it anyway, because I do love you, and I know you know that.”

He shook his head, grabbing your hands, running his thumbs over your knuckles. You could tell he wasn’t trying to put up his usual walls at the moment. It was a vulnerable moment that people would never see because he only trusted you with his insecurities. You smiled at the thought, moving to intertwine your fingers with his.

“How do you do that?”

“Do what?” You tilted your head, seeing his confusion.

“How can you read me so easily?”

You giggled quietly, kissing his cheek. “You know the answer, love.”

He nodded, pulling you tightly into his arms. It was a tender moment that he never really thought much of. He hated watching people display such affections. However, it was safe when you were home. It was safe to love you and to display it when the door was locked and the shades were shut. It was safe for him to cry and experience emotions and to smile. Because to him, there was no other safe place than you, and there wouldn’t be another one if you left.

And that’s why you said you were married. Because in the end, no document could correctly explain what the two of you meant to the other. It couldn’t show how much understanding and patience and practice it took to end up where the two of you were in the other’s life. It couldn’t show the mistakes made when it came to understanding the other person, couldn’t prove that the both of you made improvements to make the other happy.

And he was grateful you understood that as much as he did.

And he was grateful you trusted him to do the things he’d done to you.

And he was grateful because he was safer than he’d ever been in his life.

And he was grateful you loved him, too.

And he understood, no matter the effort, nobody would remove you from his life. And that’s all that mattered to him when it came to the outside world. That nobody would touch you. Nobody would give you the satisfaction and the care and the love he did because he was the only person who could do such things. He knew you were aware of it as well, which is why you gave into his wants and needs and why you let him torture you endlessly when it came to something going wrong. You were an outlet and in his mind there was nobody stronger than you, not even Chrollo, because of your ability to handle him and understand.

And now he could smile a genuine, happy smile. And that made you smile, too.

A killer, sure. A sadist. Someone who could never be happy, who could never have empathy. That’s what people knew him to be.

But you knew differently. And you wouldn’t listen when someone told you things you’d heard before. And that’s why he would never give you up.

Special.

You are special.

#hunter x hunter #hxh #feitan #feitan portor #the phantom troupe #chrollo #chrollo lucilfer #please enjoy!

49 notes · View notes

you-a-southpaw-doll · 4 years

Text

Buzzed - A Negan One-Shot

Summary: After an incident in the Sanctuary, Leigh takes matters into her own hands. What will Negan’s response be?

Warning(s): Language. Angst. Attempted rape. Violence. Death. Slight Panic Attack. Anxiety. Leigh being a badass. Negan caught off guard (no pun intended). Mentions of what could be considered self-harm. Daddy kink, but not really. You’ll see. Protective Negan. Fluff. Sexual Innuendoes. Puns (Sorry Not Sorry!). Happy ending. Not Beta’d. I just finished writing this and had to post it! Sorry for any errors.

Author’s Note(s):

I cut my hair myself, usually every 2 weeks, but no more than 3 weeks. I just can’t have my hair touch my ears; it makes my anxiety 10 times worse, and in a way, I kinda explain the reason behind that in this story. I was cutting my hair tonight, (it’s now 2:30 am, 5/24/2020) and I thought of this story idea and Negan’s reaction to the main character having short hair.

Also, if any of the warnings are triggering for you, please don’t force yourself to read. The last thing I’d want to do is trigger someone into having a panic attack. Feel free to give me any feedback, thoughts, questions, comments and/or concerns you have with the story. I love hearing from y’all!

As always, if you’d like to be added to my taglist, just let me know and I’ll happily add you!!

Word Count: 5,301. (A lot, I know, but I think it’s worth it, and I just couldn’t get everything I wanted across in less words, so enjoy!)

Relationship(s): Negan x Leigh Sullivan (OFC)

Characters: Negan. Leigh Sullivan (OFC). Simon. Dr. Carson. 3 unnamed Original Male Characters. Sanctuary People.

Taglist: @negans-network @prettyboynegan @mychemicalimagines @spnnnxangelsx @rockinkel21 @misskittycat02 @band--psycho@ofxallxwexlost @iron-halt @thamberlinawrites @ravenwings73 @lettherebepink @stoneyggirl

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

Story Time:

Leigh’s P.O.V. ~ Then

They’d caught me off guard, for once.

Normally, I never let anything or anyone catch me off guard. Or at least...I tried not to. Due to having anxiety, I was usually hyper-aware of shit going on. But, today, my anxiety had eased off after the relaxing morning I’d had with my husband. We’d spent the morning, snuggled up in his big king-sized bed, just shooting the shit and goofing off.

He didn’t have to go out on a run today, so there was no need to rush the morning like we normally had to 95% of the time. Eventually, though, the day had to get started. Dwight came knocking on the door, interrupting our relaxation time, saying he needed my husband for something. Being the man my husband is, he grumbled, cussed Dwight out, and then got outta bed while apologizing to me for the interruption and assuring me we’d finish relaxing when he got back later.

After a kiss, and a soft “I love you,” he was gone. Off to do what he did. It was my day off, so I laid in bed for a little longer before I too got up, dressed, and made my rounds. As the top female Savior, something I’d worked my ass off, fought for, and took seriously, I said hi to who I needed to, did what I needed to, and finally, sat down under my favorite tree out by the greenhouses.

I laid my leather jacket on the ground next to me, leaving me in my usually black t-shirt, holey but patched up and well worn blue jeans, and faded brown leather boots. Strapped to each thigh was a holster. In the right one was my signature gun, a .357 Magnum, 6-shot revolver. In the left holster, I kept my handcrafted 6 inch blade that I made back when I was 15, well over half a decade, shit closer to a decade ago, considering I was almost 25.

Bending my knees, and pulling them close in a comfortable position, I propped up the notebook I usually kept in my leather satchel with two backup knives, an extra gun, ammo, and a spare notebook for work along with several pens and pencils. The writing equipment was a rare commodity these days, so I always kept them close to me.

As I was writing a story I’d started a few days prior, I zoned out just a bit, focusing on it. I’d started writing when I was just 12 years old, and kept the habit up, even now, 3 years after the world ended and the dead started walking back in 2020 after the Coronavirus outback after the new year, new decade had started.

I was writing, losing myself in the words I printed on the paper in my chicken scratch. I say chicken scratch ‘cause, well...that’s basically what it was. As a lefty, my handwriting wasn’t necessarily the best, and a doctor’s prescription note was probably more legible. It was a mixture between slanted and curved print and semi-elegant at times cursive.

But, it was my handwriting, and I could read it. My husband sometimes had difficulty reading it, but he’d always put his black-rimmed glasses on, and fuck if they didn’t make him look sexier than he already was. Because of that, I sneakily wrote a little sloppier when I knew he’d have to read something from my notes about the runs I went on.

It was all an excuse to see him with those glasses perched on his nose, giving him that sexy professor look. He thought they made him look ridiculous, but I loved it. Since I was writing and zoned out, I wasn’t nearly as focused on my surroundings. I didn’t think I had to be. The tree was my safe spot when I wasn’t with my husband.

The Sanctuary was a relatively safe place, and that was thanks to the rules that were in place. So, it’d make sense that I wouldn’t focus on my surroundings as much and relax a bit as I wrote. But, boy was I wrong. I just didn’t realize it till it was far too late. Before I realized what was happening, I was being punched in the right side of my face, slinging my head to the side, as my notebook and bag were jerked away from me and my hair was roughly pulled, jerking my head backwards.

I went to grab my gun and my knife, but they’d already been taken from me. My eyes flirted back and forth in front of me, trying to process what was going on. But, everything was blurry and I was dizzy from the hit. I could barely make out three men close to me, far too close to me. They were basically on top of me.

Fuck. One of them actually was. I could feel the weight of him straddling my thighs, keeping me from standing. I couldn’t hear anything as the beating of my heart flooded my ears. I tried to fight back as best as I could, but the other two men grabbed my hands and jerked them away from my body and pinning them to the ground as they shoved my upper body down.

When they jerked my arms away, I felt, more than heard, my left shoulder dislocate. I clenched my jaw. The pain wasn’t anything new. I’d been dealing with a shoulder that dislocates when I fuckin’ sneeze since I was 13 years old. The pain, when it happened, was now at a tolerable level since I was so used to it happening.

I didn’t cry out. I knew not to. Plus, the wasn’t the type of person I was. I knew what was ‘bout to happen. It, like my shoulder, was something I’d had to put with for years growing. It wasn’t anything new either. But, that didn’t mean it was enjoyable. It was anything but. I barely processed my jeans being jerked down my hips and past my knees.

I could just barely hear the men laughing and joking around with each other, talking ‘bout what they were going to do to me and wondering why the fuck I was wearing two pairs of boxers under my jeans. I watched them, as best as I could with my vision being what it was. When the blurriness faded just enough, I could make out their features and recognized them as members of the new group that was brought in last week.

Members I’d brought into the Sanctuary. Into my house. I dropped my head back down to the ground and groaned to myself. I let my body go slack, waiting for the perfect time. When the men realized I wasn’t struggling anymore, they laughed and the two dumbfucks holding my arms down eased up on their grip.

The man on my legs lifted himself up just enough push his own pants down. Their easing up on their grip was their mistake and ultimately what led to their demise. Since they weren’t paying attention to me, thinking I’d just given up, and instead focusing on getting their baby carrot sized dicks outta their pants, I was able to strike back.

I immediately brought both my hands up, fingers curled in to form perfect fists without worry of possibly breaking my thumbs, ignoring the protest of my left shoulder, and cocked both the men on my sides straight in the noses. I internally smiled at the sounds of their noses breaking and their screams of pain.

They stumbled back just a little bit, hands covering their faces as they clutched their noses in an attempt to stop the extensive amount of blood falling. Clearly, I caught the man on top me off guard with my actions and he was shocked for a moment. It was perfect. I bucked him up off me, managed to jerk my pants up as I stood.

All one fluid motion.

Since he was still obviously in shock at me suddenly fighting back, he stumbled, tripping, and falling backwards on the ground. He tried to scurry backwards as fast as as he could. Despite being 5’3”, I was able to stay with him. I slammed my boot down on his stomach, making him howl in pain and wheeze as he struggled to get the air back that i’d just forced outta his lungs.

I kept my foot on his gut, putting most of my weight on it, digging the worn sole into his abdomen. He let out a sad excuse for a grunt as I did. I just smirked. This fucked had no idea who he’d fucked, or tried to fuck with. I leaned down and started pummeling the shit outta his face, keeping him in place with my foot.

Since he couldn’t get fresh air back into his lungs because of the position of my foot, he was too weak to try and fight back. To say I was a little disappointed at not having a challenge, would be like saying the dead weren’t walking around. It was a lie. I was disappointed, and I fueled that disappointment in with the anger as I literally beat him to death.

He kept trying to apologize, tried to plead with me, to not kill him, but I didn’t give a fuck. He was ‘bout to rape me, and I’d had ‘nough of that in my life. I wasn’t putting up with it. I eased up just before I knew he was about to die. Gave him false hope into letting him think his words had affected me. I let him get one last breath in as I completely lifted my foot off his torso.

“Than-” He started to say, but I cut him off as I slammed my boot into his face, effectively crushing his skull.

“Don’t fuckin’ thank me, prick.” I muttered to him as I wiped my boot off on his once clean but now bloody clothes. “You fuckin’ ruined my goddamn favorite fuckin’ pair of boots, asshole.”

Before I turned away from him, I spit on his crushed skull. Since it was destroyed, I didn’t have to worry ‘bout him coming back as a dean’un. I was a little sad that I wouldn’t get to kill him a second time, but he’d gotten what he deserved. Turning to the other two dumbfucks, I repeated my actions, and did to them exactly what I’d just done to their friend.

I knew my husband was going to be pissed that I killed these men, instead of letting him do it, but I’d deal with that. I wasn’t going to let these fuckers back inside the relatively safe concrete walls of the factory that was the Sanctuary. By the time I was down stomping in the skull of the third man, I looked up, as I finished, and noticed that I’d gathered quite an audience.

Including Simon. The right-hand man, third person in charge of the Sanctuary. His, and everyone else’s, eyes were wide, and everyone was silent. I knew I was gonna be in trouble since they’d just seen me stomp the life outta three men, but I didn’t give a fuck. I had shit to do. I gathered up my weapons, my jacket, and bag after shoving my shit into it and stormed inside the Sanctuary, flipping everyone off, not wanting to deal with their gawking.

Not caring ‘bout my bloody appearance, I made my way to the commissary, needing to grab a few things before I went back to my room. I found what I needed: a new pair of jeans identical to the ones i was wearing, a new t-shirt, undergarments, a pair of boots and a special item, an unopened, brand new boxed set of hair clippers.

Once I had what I needed, I stormed up to the room I share with my husband, stripping down to my bra and one pair of boxers when i get there.

Leigh’s P.O.V. ~ Now

“What the fuck was that fuckin’ shit out there, Leigh?!?”

I sigh as I hear my husband storm into our room, the door slamming shut behind him. I look at myself in the mirror as I lay the scissors down on the bathroom counter by the sink and pick up the clippers. Turning them on, I don’t reply to my husband. Not wanting to explain to him what happened at the moment.

I stare at myself in the mirror as I bring the clippers up to my shortened hair. I press the #2 guard to my head and move it backwards from my forehead to the back of my head, sticking to the once familiar hairline I used to see and live by religiously. I watch as the hair falls, joining the rest of my once long, curly locks, on the floor by my feet. I use my fingers to guide my movements, making sure I don’t go too high and completely fuck up my hair.

Once I have the hairline visible, separating what I want to keep and what I want to shave off, I move the guard down below my ear and with practiced ease, I shave the sides and back of head, getting rid of the hair. Keeping an eye on myself, making sure I don’t fuck up my haircut, not that I would since I used to do this every 2-3 weeks, I watch as my husband steps into the bathroom.

I watch as his eyes nearly bulge outta their sockets when he sees me. I watch as the anger vanishes from his face and body, being replaced with worry, sadness, and a hint of curiosity. I watch as his eyes traveling over the reflection of my face in the mirror, taking in my black eye, bruised and split open cheek, covered in blood and even the nasty black eye I’m now sporting.

I watch as he slowly moves his eyes up to meet mine in the mirror.

“What...what are you doing?” He asks softly.

My left eyebrow shoots sky high as I look at him. My husband rarely says a sentence without cussing every other word. And yet...he just asked a simple question without one sentence enhancer thrown in.

“What the fuck’s it look like I’m doing? I’m cutting my hair.” I say. “Decided I needed a new fuckin’ look. Don’t you fuckin’ love it?”

I know I’m being Captain fuckin’ Obvious at the moment, and a bit harsh, but I’m not ready to tell him what happened. That’s for after I get done. Cutting my hair is the only thing keeping me from completely shutting down and giving in to the panic attack that’s trying to take over. I watch as he lets out a deep breath as he slowly steps into the bathroom, padding across the tiled floor to me.

He places his hands on my shoulders and I do my best not to flinch. But he still sees it and quickly lifts his hands off me, holding them up in a surrendering pose. I know he’d never hurt me, and he was the one to save my life after this shit hole of a world started three years ago. But, I can’t help it. The feeling of those fuckers’ hands on me, plus the fact that my shoulder is still dislocated, keeps me from wanting to be touched.

“Can...let me help. Please, sweetheart.” My husband’s soft drawl meets my ears.

“No. I need to do this myself.” I reply, tightening my grip on the clippers.

I watch as his Adam’s apple bobs up and down in his throat as he swallows deeply and nods. I keep my eyes on his in the mirror and finish cutting my hair. It’s been three years since I’ve cut my hair, but the muscle memory is still there. It’s like riding a bike. My husband watches as I finish shaving the sides of my head down to where there’s just a bit of peach fuzz.

Switching the clippers off, I replace the guard with a #1 and go back over the bottom hairline on the base of my neck. Once I have that done, I take the guard off completely and just put the metal of the clippers to the back of my neck doing my best not to flinch at the burning heat coming off it as it meets my skin.

I take that little strip down so there’s no hair there, running along along the hairline on my neck. I use the blending guard and even out the area, making the hair have a fade. Replacing the blending guard with the #7, I bring it up to the patch of hair on my head, and trim it down. When I finish, my feet are covered with a mountain of what used to be the long, thick, curly hair on my head.

My neck and shoulders are also covered with the little strands of hair that I buzzed off. Setting the clippers on the counter, I run my hands over the buzz cut I now sport and take in a deep, shaky breath. I let my head drop down, pressing my chin to chest and take another shaky breath in after letting out one.

“Baby?” My husband asks softly.

I lift my head and look up at him. My eyes roam over the unzipped black leather jacket he’s wearing over his standard white t-shirt and down to the grey jeans he’s wearing, held up by two leather belts. I let my eyes rest on his feet, no longer hidden by his own pair of black combat boots, but rather a pair of white socks.

Taking in another deep breath, I bring my eyes up to meet his. I can see the worry swimming in his muddy water brown eyes. I shake my head as i start to take my bra off and push my boxers down, stepping outta them as the pool ‘round my ankles.

“I need a shower.” I mumble and step ‘round him to walk to the stunning shower we share.

I grip the knobs tightly as I turn the water on, as hot as it’ll go. I need to feel the pain of the burning water over my skin. If I don’t, I know I’ll give in to that panic attack that’s already on the verge of consuming me. Stepping into the shower, I glance back at my husband over my shoulder.

“You can…” I mumble.

He nods as he understands what I’m trying to say. I look away, for the first time since we met, and eventually became intimate, not wanting to watch him undress. I know that if I were to watch, I’d see those assholes tugging their pants down, and I don’t want that. I don’t want my husband to be mixed in with them.

Standing under the burning hot water, feeling it flow over and pelt my skin, I bring my hands up and tightly grip what’s left of my hair, tugging on it. I feel Negan step into the shower, behind me. I don’t have to look. I know he’s there. I can feel the heat rolling off his skin, along with the worry and helplessness.

He hasn’t seen me like this in three years, and even then, it wasn’t this bad. I blindly reach for the bottle of men’s body wash he and I share and I vigorously scrub my body with it. Trying to get the touch and the blood of those men off me. It takes four harsh washes and rinses before I even begin to feel clean.

Negan just stands behind me, leaning against the back wall of the shower. He’s giving me my space while still letting me know he’s right there if I need him. The bottle slips outta my hands when I go to pour more of the soapy liquid into my palm. I’d leave it there, but Negan gently reaches around me, picking it up.

I hear the bottle open and can tell he’s pouring some into his own hands. I figure he’s just gonna wash his body until I feel his soft and gentle touch on my skin. I flinch and tremble at first, but eventually give into the feeling of him touching me. He takes his time, gently washing me, letting me get clean for the final time.

Letting me know that it’s ok. That it’s over. That’s he’s got me. That he’ll take care of me. Neither of us say a word as he takes the removable showerhead from it’s dock and gently rinses me off after he turns the cold water on, letting the temperature of the water mix until it’s no longer burning, but rather warm and gentle.

He lets the showerhead drop and dangle as he turns the water off and steps out. I keep my eyes closed and feel him wrap a soft towel around me. I open my eyes and bring them to meet his, only to find him staring at my dislocated shoulder. He blinks and his tongue darts out just a little from between his lips.

“Want me to put it back in place, sweetheart?”

I nod slowly.

“Put your right arm ‘round my waist, baby, and I will.”

I follow his soft command and a moment later, I feel his palms against my left shoulder. He’s helped me pop my shoulder back into place enough over the last few years that he knows what he’s doing. I suck in a deep, shaky breath right as he pops it back into place. I bit my lip to hold back the whimper from the pain.

As soon as he’s done, he wraps both his arms ‘round me and just holds me close as I bury my face against his wet chest. We don’t say another word for a solid 10 minutes. He just holds me as we stand in the bathroom, water pooling ‘round our feet. Eventually, he gently scoops me up in his arms and carries me to bed.

Sitting down on it, he just holds me in his lap, not saying anything. I know it’s his way of helping me get outta the panic attack and also letting me know that he’s listening when I’m ready to talk. It takes me a hot minute before I get the words out, and even then they’re just a whisper.

“They...they were trying to rape me.”

I hear him let out a growl and his arms tighten ‘round me, protectively. That’s his number one rule. Rape is not allowed. Followed by the prohibition of abusing women and children. He doesn’t say a word, letting me continue. I tell him everything that happened, as I tremble in his arms. He just holds me close, softly rubbing my back and taking even breaths to help me subconsciously focus on keeping my own breathing even.

“I’m sorry I wasn’t there, baby.” He finally murmurs after I finish recounting the events. “I’m so sorry you had to go through that. They got what they deserved. I just wish I could’ve introduced them to Lucille.”

My eyes flirt over to the barbed-wire baseball bat propped up against the wall by our bedroom door. She’s surprisingly clean. I guess Negan didn’t have to dish out any punishments today. Only I did.

“I’m so fuckin’ proud of you, though, baby.” He whispers in my ear.

I look up at him, confused. “Proud?”

He nods. “Mmhhmm. You shut that shit down, and kept your cool until you were up here. I don’t know how you fuckin’ managed that, but I’m not surprised. I heard what you did, heard how you described it, and fuck, baby. I wish I’d seen you go Rambo on their asses. You’re my badass girl. I’m proud of you.”

A small smile tugs at my lips. Despite the events of the day, and me doing what I did, my husband still manages to make me smile. He slowly brings one hand up, keeping it in my line of sight, and cups my good cheek.

“Will you let me send Carson up here to stitch your cheek up and get you checked out?”

His eyes search mine, waiting for my reply, and hoping I’ll let him. I nod against his palm, and he lets out a deep breath. He reaches over to the nightstand and plucks his radio off it. His thumb pressed against the side button.

“Carson. Get your fuckin’ ass up to my room now, and bring your bag. Fuckin’ now.” He growls into the receiver.

“Yes, sir.” Comes the doctor’s reply not even a moment later.

Negan then pushes the button down again and talks.

“Simon. Bring two plates of food up to my room. Now. And make sure it’s some good shit too.”

Simon replies in the affirmative and Negan sets his radio down. He looks back at me and places his palm back against my good cheek. A gesture that always makes me relax.

“Can I ask why you cut your hair?” He asks softly.

“I refuse to let another man tug me around by hair, guiding me to do his bidding, especially during a situation like earlier. It was a flashback to my dad doing what he did. It’s why I’ve also cut my own hair. It’s the one thing I about my body that I can control. So, I keep it short and no man will ever be able to use my hair against me again.” I say, the truth just spilling out. “Plus, having it touch my ears, always made my anxiety ten times worse.”

He knows what my dad did, and he’s known that tugging on my hair was a hard limit for me. So, he never did it, which is why I let my hair grow out. I felt safe around him. I still do. But, having long hair is just a liability, and I refuse to be put in that situation again. He nods in understanding.

“I’m gonna miss your curls, though.” He says. “And waking up with a mouthful of your hair in my mouth.”

I can’t help but giggle at that. It’s true. Most mornings, he’d wake up, sputtering to spit out the strands of my hair that ended up in his mouth as we slept next to each other.

“I left enough on top so you can still play with my hair, babe. And, there’s still enough to run your fingers through it.” I assure him.

“Can I?”

I nod and a moment later, I feel his fingers on his other hand stroke through my wet hair, lightly massaging my scalp as he does. I let out a soft moan at the feeling and lean into his touch on my cheek, closing my eyes. He chuckles as he plays with my hair.

“If that’s your reaction to me doing that every single fuckin’ time, I could get used to it. And I’ll just have to get used to having an even stiffer hard on from the soft moans.” He smirks as he looks at me.

I blush and open my eyes looking up at him. “You're my husband. I think I can manage helping you out with the baseball bat you have in your pants.”

He laughs softly. “Yea?”

I grin. “Mmhhmm. You’re fond of Lucille. I’m quite fond of your own bat.”

He grins, showing off his dimples. “I’m fuckin’ fond of you, baby. Have been since we first met in the woods. Why else do you think I got rid of the wives years ago?”

I try not to grin as I shrug. “It was the only way you were getting in my pants and scoring a homerun.”

He laughs and shakes his head. “Not the only reason, baby. It was because I love you, Leigh.”

I grin from ear to ear and turn my head to place a soft kiss to his palm. “I love you too, Negan.”

Before he can say anything else, there’s a timid knock on the door.

“Come the fuck in!” Negan calls out, holding me close.

Dr. Carson comes in. He’s no longer as nervous as he used to be when I first showed up. But he’s still a little nervous around the man. I’ve gotten Negan to ease up on the fear of himself he’s instilled in people, and gotten him to be nicer in the way he treats folks. He’s not the bat-wielding lunatic he was when we first met.

He’s the man I always knew he was.

A soft, 6’2” teddy bear wrapped in leather.

My soft, 6’2” teddy bear wrapped in leather.

After Carson checks me out, determines nothing’s broken, assures me that everything is good, and stitches my cheek up, he leaves. Negan helps me get dressed in a pair of his boxers under my new jeans and one of his shirts before he pulls on a pair of sweatpants. Simon comes in shortly after I finish getting dressed, holding a tray of food for Negan and I.

His eyes widen as he looks at me, taking in my new appearance.

“What, Si? Never seen a girl with short hair before?” I ask, teasing.

He shakes his head. “I have. I just wasn’t expecting you to have cut your own. It looks good on you, fitting.”

I smile. “Thanks, Si.”

Leaning up, I kiss his cheek and then kick him out before Negan can Lucille him for staring at me. My husband knows Simon’s like a dad to me, the dad I never had, and that there’s nothing there. He just gets jealous and protective over me, not liking other men to stare. And, for once, I’m thankful, given the events of today.

As we eat, Negan and I stay on the bed, me snuggled up to his side. When we’re finished though, I look up at him.

“I have to tell you something else.” I say.

His eyebrow raises and he looks at me, grining. “What’s that? You planning on buzzing anything else?”

I laugh and playfully slap his bare chest. “No, asshole.”

He pretends to be hurt and rubs his chest, grinning. “Damn, girl. That hurt.”

I laugh and kiss his chest where I smacked him. “Feel better, Daddy?”

He grins that dimpled grin again and nods. “Mmhhmm. Now, what else you gotta tell me, babygirl?”

I smirk. “Well, Daddy…you see...”

He growls low in his throat. “Don’t tease me, little girl.”

I giggle. “I’m not, Daddy.”

I bring my hand down to rub my tummy.

“You full from eating?” He asks, covering my hand on my tummy, rubbing what he thinks is a food baby.

“Nope. But, it’s nice to see you already rubbing my tummy. I can happily get used to this over the next 7 months.”

“7 months?” His brow creases in confusion for a moment before his eyes widen. “You...you’re...we’re…?”

I giggle and nod as I lean up to kiss him softly.

“Yes, honey. I’m pregnant.” I say. “I’m 2 months along, and found out a few days ago. I was working on a story earlier, and that was gonna be how I told you, but shit happened, so I figured I’d just tell you.”

He lets out a high pitched squeal that I never would’ve expected from him, and pulls me right back into his arms and his lap. His beard tickles my neck as he grins against it, placing a soft kiss there. I giggle and wrap my arms ‘round him. Like I said, he’s a soft, 6’2” teddy bear wrapped in leather.

My soft, 6’2” teddy bear wrapped in leather and I’m his buzzed haired girl.

37 notes · View notes

daily-dose-of-imagines · 4 years

Text

𝕄𝕒𝕥𝕔𝕙 𝕌𝕡♡

hi admins! i hope you're doing well! may i request a haikyuu matchup please? and may i stay anonymous? Thank you!

I'm about 160cm tall and a little chubby, have thick long hair that reaches my lower back, brown eyes. My mbti is intj and my zodiac sign is scorpio! Im quiet and shy with new people, mostly because im not sure what to say/talk about and i worry if i'll say something wrong, so i find it hard to initiate conversation first and make new friends by myself. With friends or acquaintances i prefer to be listening rather than talking due to the same reason but also because i like listening to other peoples stories as well. I have a small circle of really close friends who im comfortable with tho and thats where i can really talk and joke around a LOT, like people who i dont know very well would most likely be surprised by my actual personality, it just takes some time for me to open up :') With close friends, I'm more witty, talkative and affectionate, both physically and with words. I always try to be supportive and caring to my friends, but i also won't sugarcoat advice if it's something they need. I have a "bad" sense of humor, which just means i will laugh at the unfunniest dumb jokes and puns bcs i genuinely find them funny.

I find that i overthink and worry a lot, and i get frustrated with my lack of social skills sometimes. Like i wish i can be more open to people and i want to try new things but i just get scared of stepping out of my comfort zone and also afraid that people would find me weird and judge me. I also get stressed out easily by responsibilities(?) Like i have a to do list in my brain of assignments, exams or other things i need to do so it'll always be in the back of my mind and i can't really take a break peacefully until everything's done, although thats quite rare as im in medical school right now and have exams at least twice a month :'). Im also insecure with my body most of the time but im slowly trying to love myself more :) my favourite physical feature is probably my hair. I just love having it touched or played with or getting it braided, etc.

My hobbies nowadays are mostly watching stuff. I'll watch movies, tv shows, musicals, plays, youtube videos or anything rlly. I don't have a favourite genre either, as long as i find it enjoyable i'd watch it. I also like playing games, with my recent obsession being animal crossing :) I read fiction novels too sometimes. I just really like relaxing and chilling in bed during my downtime to recharge my energy, especially after a long day or after going out, though i dont mind doing it with another person if im comfortable with them. I'm not a very sporty or artistic person either but i play several musical instruments sometimes and i love listening to music while doing other things. I'm somehow very good at playing with kids though? Like toddlers, especially. I don't know why but I'm good at entertaining them i guess hahah so i dont mind babysitting my young cousins usually.

ok thats all i have, sorry if its a little long! thank you so much!!

»»————-　♡　————-««

Hello sweet pea~! Of course you may! I’m so sorry this took so long to get out~! Thank you so much for requesting with us~! I hope you enjoy who I’ve paired you with, and as always thank you so much for your love and support for our blog~!

» » Admin Ko

𝕀 𝕊𝕙𝕚𝕡 𝕐𝕆𝕌 𝕨𝕚𝕥𝕙...

ᴋᴇɴᴍᴀ ᴋᴏᴢᴜᴍᴇ

Practically the same as you, Kenma is one who isn’t necessarily shy, but finds it a hassle to interact with people. He’s not friends with many, and considers his closest group of friends to be Kuroo and Hinata (with exception of the volleyball team). You two meet really through a mutual acquaintance (Hinata) and it honestly hits off from there. He appreciates your quiet spoken personality and immensely enjoys how kind you are when listening to other’s problems and issues.

Kenma will be surprised once you begin to open up out of your shell, but it’s not unwelcome. Rather it’s a breath of fresh air from him. In comparison to Hinata’s sunshine like attitude, yours is like that of a warm spring day that he can lounge in forever. It’s to your surprise that besides playing video games, Kenma actually enjoys to de-stress by braiding and playing with your hair. It’s a feat that you don’t exactly except from the quiet setter, but it’s not unwelcome. To him, it’s absolutely endearing when he sets down his controller or phone to see you with sparkling eyes and freshly brushed hair.

Contrary to your overthinking and worrying, Kenma will be the one to help ground you and remind you of the factual evidence whilst making sure you’re not on the path to an anxiety filled panic. Not only that, but he understands your frustration in wanting to be able to communicate freely with others whilst being yourself. Besides that, Kenma is no stranger to disliking or getting out of his comfort zone. In that aspect, he can relate to the anxiety and nervous build up before a change.

When it comes to self love, he’s adamant in showing you how wonderful you are. It’s not often that he will compliment someone, but he makes the effort for you just so you remember how gorgeous you truly are to him. As for your hobbies? The moment he sees you playing animal crossing he’s demanding multiple island dates, and will most definitely gift you everything he receives in game. Anything rare or hard to create, he has already sent you the finish product along with the DIY. It’s one of his favorite types of dates with you. Besides watching movies in bed, he absolutely loves to lay side by side with you whilst you both explore the world of Animal Crossing.

#match-ups #matchup #submissions #anime matchup #submission #haikyuu x reader #haikyuu matchups #kenma x reader #kenma kozume x reader

8 notes · View notes

fyrapartnersearch · 3 years

Text

18+ Roleplay Buddy!

Hello, hello! I am 18+ and looking for an 18+ NSFW Partner.

-My name is Erika

-I’m 21 years old (Soon-to-be-22)

-From the USA (Eastern time-zone)

-Currently in College

Hello! Anyone that sees this is welcome to message me if you are interested and you see this post. I’m an experienced role-player that has been writing for around 4-5+ years now. I’m open to any types of pairings while RPing a story. Especially looking for partners to message. Someone who is casual and fun and we can just both write together. Have as much creative freedom as you want for whatever story that we are able to create. I want to have us both be able to enjoy it. Don’t be afraid to tell me any ideas, suggestions, stories of your own, and so on and so forth! I like to make sure that my partner is comfortable whenever the two of us chat!

Also a small note, I do have a life outside of writing such as school and working in general. I try to understand with my partner or whoever a chat with so with that being said, I have a busy schedule and I can’t message all the time so I just ask to understand that this is long term for a reason and if I happen to miss your message it is because I am busy, working, and possibly sleeping. I try my best to reply whenever I can but sometimes I do miss and hope that you can understand that happens. I like to be understanding myself and if there is the chance that you can’t talk or RP then I completely understand and rather you focus on life than feeling obligated to message me.

Besides that, I myself am looking to start a long term mature and mostly smutty story, I love fantasy, romantic, action, darker themes dabbled in, and most storyline RPs, if you have an idea that I haven’t tried I’m willing to do it too along with more realistic plot points. I’m very detailed and like a detailed partner too, I usually roleplay in the first person but I do the third person as well if I have to if it is better fitting for the roles within the story. Just tell me which one that you prefer. If you don’t have a preference in mind then I’m sure we can discuss further to settle on something enjoyable. As much as I love smut I do like to have some kind of story so that the constant sex will not get boring. So basically some porn with a plot!

-I do also have a few mini-plot ideas that I can share below to get some creativity going for whoever is interested but nothing is completely set in stone and I am more than happy to change things around to fit both of our needs or come up with something fresh entirely! Just want to help get people brainstorming and see some of the ideas that I have in mind at the moment too.

First, an innocent person unexpectedly being dragged into the crime world when they become the affection and obsession of a mob boss that is not easy to avoid or escape from. The innocent person knows their evil and wrong but it’s very hard to resist them in any way. The more the innocent person tries to stay away the stronger the obsession becomes to the point of being drawn into each other no matter how bad the relationship may be for one another. This plot can have a darker theme and tone to it but I am more than happy to do a much more of a redemption arc to this one.

Second, is an asylum plot, a newbie that enters and is eye-catching to a few other patients that have been living inside the hospital. All having the same thing in mind, leaving the hospital but it’s not as easy as said with the other patients inside and corrupted doctors around. There also could be an alternative plot or side plot in general with a doctor and patient-focused relationship dark theme mostly for this plot and can be supernatural as well.

Third, is more of a pairing with a goody-good and the delinquent, having a more of an opposite attraction sort of situation between the two, maybe starting off with bullying or dislike for one another and having the two interacting. Possibly a dominant bad boy/girl, overpowering the submissive and innocent of the pair. The makings of a possible relationship being able to develop between the two of them or having it eventually crumble apart. I have some more brainstorming that I want to do with this but I would be happy to hear any ideas that you may have if interested, feeling that this will be another more casual and a slice of life in general.

-Those being the more realistic plot points above I have in mind grounded in reality but here are my more fantasy-based plots below.

First is a vampire and human plots as I have a few different ideas that could be used for these roles in general, a human that becomes the bride and/or groom for a ruthless vampire that has been looking for their soulmate all their life. But the soulmate is a human of course and doesn’t know of supernatural life or even in possible denial of there being supernatural beings in the first place. An alternative plotline for the arranged marriage is the human’s parents had been in debt years ago right before they were born, deciding to make a deal with the vampire to be able to provide a good life for their child. But of course, there has to be an equal exchange, that being their hand in marriage once at adult age. With that agreement in place, the human is allowed the chance of a normal life without worries, unaware as their next mid-stone birthday they will have their whole world turned around. Those are the two main ideas in my mind but I am happy to hear anything that you may have. This being more character development and a plot-focused one if you have an interest in this one.

Second is a damsel in distress plot, a princess of a well-known kingdom that gets kidnapped by a group of bandits. The princess is held by them to get as much money as they could for having a ransom. But the more they travel the closer they get to each other. Or it could be the opposite and the princess is actually saved by a hero of the kingdom. Possibly a knight in shining armor, a wanted criminal looking to get some treasure, or even the so-called village idiot. Either way, there is a princess that needs saving! Both developments go over the course of classical fantasy adventure land. Monsters, magic, and everything in between. With this one, I wanna do plenty of world-building, plenty of establishing of characters, and making it feel like the environment is really alive around our characters too.

Third is a human becoming the affection of a wolf’s pact. A lost human in the forest runs into wolf territory unknown to the human. Leaving them completely trapped as the wolves take the human and use them as the housemate. The plot could also be an alpha finding their mate after years of searching but now has to claim them along with the troubles that their mate is a human. But with a human in wolf territory, it can be quite hard with the rising tension in the air. This one could be of course one pairing or multiple pairings depending on those who are interested in playing multiple characters throughout the story.

Fourth, more sci-fi fantasy alien focus plots! An alien has been tracking along and stumbled upon Earth, out of all the millions of places that they could have ended up, the alien is right within the human’s home. Different avenues could be made here, maybe the human taking care of the alien and helping them adapt to life on Earth. Another could be that the alien is being tracked down by the government and changes to the two of them being on the run from the law. With that in mind, we could do the reverse of the story, the alien decides to take one of the humans from Earth and travel along with space. Humans being a species in which are quite rare at this point and nearly on the verge of extension. Leading to some otherworldly beings stepping in to ensure that the human lives life enough to repopulate. Another more action-driven plot is an alien and an android, one being a galactic criminal and the other a bounty hunter that is trying to stop them and end their crime spree around space. Much more of a cat and mouse chase with plenty of encounters in between. Who will really win this game in the end? All of these ideas of course either taking place in a more general modern-day Earth or the bounds of space. Since there are three separate ideas just specify which one you would like to go more into planning with.

Fifth, much more futuristic or steampunk theme plot. A mad scientist and their Frankenstein creation, one would call them a mad person for trying to bring someone to life, whether mechanical or a real being either way after trial and failure over and over again, Their creation finally comes to life! Their greatest accomplishment is finally complete yet it’s unlike anything they ever expected. Sure bringing something to life is amazing in itself but when that life is rather lacking in intelligence, it can be quite troublesome. As mentioned this will have a more futuristic setting with some world-building in mind, a dystopian future can be used along with this too if wanting to give a chance at that too.

Sixth, a bit more of a large idea retaining inside of a home. A human, rather down on their luck, not much family and not having the best of life always passes by an old home, large and intimidating in size. Practically having the look of being abandoned. Even with retaining the look of nothing inside, the home always seems to call for them. Beckoning them inside yet the human always ignored the call and walked along by day after day. Growing the urge to follow that call as it gets louder and louder each time until finally, the human decides to end it and see what’s truly inside. Now, for this plot, I would like it to have a bigger scaled version of symbiosis. Beings that are occupying the same space despite having a history of not coexisting together. Some depend on one another for their own reasons while others use the living space to benefit off of what comes inside the trap. A labyrinth of sorts once inside, would the human truly have what it takes to escape or will they be completely swallowed up whole. This being a rather bigger idea on my end with playing multiple characters and such but you are always more than welcome to play more too. If this one piques your interest then just let me know so we can start discussing more.

Seventh, a more fantasy-themed world in general with this one. I have been really craving something with being suddenly dropped into a world that is much more intimidating and overwhelming around them. Think Alice in Wonderland or Little Nightmares and such where the goal of the main character is to return home again. Having to rely on wits and watch their step every way in fear of making the wrong move at any time. Though with further exploration of this land will you get swept up and trapped inside or manage to crawl your way back out. With this one, I am open to hearing any ideas that you would like to add along with the overall tone as I see it being a wonderous trip through unexplored lands or a gritty survival trail to home. Either way, I am happy to explore more on it.

Eighth, more Sci-Fi fantasy in mind with this one. More groundhog day in mind. Being trapped repeating the same day over and over again only to wake up and do the same. It seems that only you have the memory of what happens which makes you seem to be the one responsible of breaking this loop. Trying multiple ways, trial and error day after day, all seems lost until finally one day you meet someone that remembers your name.

-As stated above all the plot ideas that I mentioned are open to change and I am happy to hear any other ideas that you may have. I myself am a very open-minded person and am happy to hear whatever ideas, kinks, fetishes that you may have in more detail as we chat alone. Everything and anyone is welcomed to message me!

+I do wanna mention a few things here since most people scroll to the bottom and I just wanna make sure I get across the most important information here.

+18+ only partners

+I usually play female characters, I have played male characters in the past but do not have nearly as much experience with them. I could give it a try if you request but it will probably be some of my more shaky work.

+I like to control my character and I would like to keep control of my character. Please do not control my character in any way. I hope that I do not come across as rude but it is a small pet peeve of mine.

+Also apologies in advance but I do not really much fandom stuff really, things with pre-established characters and history are not my strong suit, and feel that I make them more of my own version of that character than anything else so I would rather just do my own OC’s then do a character from something else made.

+I also would like to make this clear once again, I do have work and I am a college student, this is why it’s a long-term roleplay and I am looking for a recurrent partner. If I am busy then I am busy. I would much rather be doing something fun but alas I cannot spend all my time writing and I just want that to be a clear understanding before you decide to message me.

TL;DR: I’m looking for a new detailed long-term roleplay partner and I am more than happy to hear any ideas in mind. As far as contacting me goes you can always message me but I will warn you that I usually don’t do my roleplaying on Reddit since I tend to not get notified about messages so if you are still interested after that I am more than happy to share my discord. Please be patient, as I try to get to every message I can and I apologize if I do miss yours in that process.

And if you are having trouble adding me there then please message me here and let me know!

Discord: BbwCandy18#9717

#oc rp #long term #original #submission #long post

1 note · View note

xxforsaken-angelxx · 4 years

Text

> Consult an expert

xxforsaken-angelxx uh knock knock?

centaurstechnician D—> Greetings xxforsaken-angelxx hi im eridan makara the grinmaww im fuckin doin shit i wwas told you knoww things about helm recovvery

centaurstechnician D—> I am called the Engineer D—> As it happens, I know quite a bit about the subject D—> As helm installation and maintenace was my primary focus for six sweeps D—> And the rehabilitation of uninstalled helms the last four

xxforsaken-angelxx ok cool so youre just a funky miracle man

centaurstechnician D—> If it pleases you to phrase it that way

xxforsaken-angelxx no i mean it thats more rehab wwork than anyone here has

centaurstechnician D—> Indeed, do you know how much of their physique is compromised by the biowire’s intrusion? D—> As well it w001d be helpfoal to know how long they have been filly on life support

xxforsaken-angelxx purportedly the biowire aint fuckin wwith anythin an theyvve been there bout fifty swweeps, on full life support for a lotta that

centaurstechnician D—> According to whom? D—> Helms are %tremely bad at self reporting D—> And technicians are apt to overlook anything which does not interfere with the job D—> But assuming all you are dealing with is musc001ature atrophy, and not compromised limb function due to %cessive scarring and nerve damage D—> The I have a regimin of physical therepy %ercises to deal with each stage of recovery D—> As well as diet suggestions. D—> It will take them an amount of time to adjust to taking food by mouth again, and you will want to start with liquids, though a high protein diet rich in calories is imperative to recovery D—> I also suggest that perminant ports be replaced with silicone seating for comfort while moving and laying in any position

xxforsaken-angelxx according to the techs but thats fuckin useful shit

centaurstechnician D—> Are they currently on broad spectrum antibiotics and antivirals? D—> Restarting the immune system is an entire process involving transfusions and system boosters D—> They abso100tely will find their body treating every new thing as a possible intruder once it begins to ramp up D—> So you will need to watch for anaphylaxis, and have epinephrine ready, as well as simpler antihistamines and steriods

xxforsaken-angelxx youre a fuckin useful bitch yknoww that like i knoww wwere prepped for that one but youre less dodgy than the clowwn nurses

centaurstechnician D—> I am nothing if not usefoal D—> Helping to rehabilitate helms legally and freely is a dream > centaursTechnician has sent file exercise&diet.zip D—> My notes

xxforsaken-angelxx *hell* yes

centaurstechnician D—> I understand the subject is entering this affair willingly? D—> There may come a point, more quickly, or further along, where they grow tired of constantly struggling to do normal activites. D—> I have found a simple and uncomplicated short term and long term reward system helps with motivation, as long as you are entirely transparent about your motivations

xxforsaken-angelxx yeah they apparently wwould really like this to be a thing, so but tell me more about that?

centaurstechnician D—> Between keeping a private journal that remains private, and finding out what motivates them, new books? Food? Food is quite popular with psions in general because of their abnormally high caloric needs.

xxforsaken-angelxx i cant evven guess wwhat theyd like but wwe wwill cross that bridge wwhen wwe get there

centaurstechnician D—> once off the automatic regulation of blood sugar by the life support systems, many psions have reported feeling like they are constantly hungry, so food as a short term treat rarely goes wrong

xxforsaken-angelxx noted

centaurstechnician D—> feel free to contact me with any further questions

xxforsaken-angelxx actually heres one wwhat do you do like speech wwise

centaurstechnician D—> Are the vocal chords damaged? D—> If the voice is damaged, cybershades or glasses present an alternative to communication while strength and dexterity is being rebuilt in the hands

xxforsaken-angelxx theyvve refused to talk their wwhole service so i mean i fuckin assume an wwhat the fuck is a cybershades

centaurstechnician D—> It may be a form of protest, specifically. D—> Ah, hm > centaursTechnician has sent file cybershades.pdf D—> I apologize for the slightly rough instructions, this was pulled from a site where they discuss building one from cheap and spare parts D—> But it should still be usefoal D—> They are shades that present a HUD display of a computer interface, and work via a touch contact neural transmitter. D—> They can be both single or paired with a other device for increased computing power.

xxforsaken-angelxx ...thats cool as all shit

centaurstechnician D—> They are invaluable for giving some freedoms to those who have trouble communicating D—> And also for using your computing devices on then fly

xxforsaken-angelxx i wwould FUCKIN imagine

centaurstechnician D—> Language

xxforsaken-angelxx im a clowwn if i dont swwear then i shrivvel up like an unwwatered plant

centaurstechnician D—> I suppose if it is medically necessary I shall allow it

xxforsaken-angelxx i kneww youd understand

centaurstechnician D—> Of course D—> Let me know if there are any other pieces of equipment you need schematics for or questions I can answer

xxforsaken-angelxx one more thing any tips on like keepin someone not horrifically bored wwhen they wwont tell you wwhat they like

centaurstechnician D—> Give them the resources to seek their own entertainment. D—> Remember that they are probably very angry about the fate that was handed them D—> However they choose to express that anger is the only act of will they have taken for themselves from the shambles left to them of their abillity to act D—> You are not entitled to know anything about them D—> Give them the shades, allow them to order and ask for things on their own terms D—> They can find their own way. D—> As long as things are available to them if they choose.

xxforsaken-angelxx mm that makes sense not wwhat nymede wwants to hear though

centaurstechnician D—> There are many realities of dealing with people on the other side of a system you have benefitted from which are.. difficolt by nature

xxforsaken-angelxx shes been havvin a rough time wwith it but its easier wwhen i like fuckin knoww wwhat else to tell her to do

centaurstechnician D—> Feel free to direct her to me as well, if I can help, I will D—> I have been tasked with restoring Goldwave, as well D—> So I do have familiarity with the particulars of the implants used.

xxforsaken-angelxx yeah good fuckin point just might do that ...on a scale a one to ten howw much of a bitch is he to deal wwith

centaurstechnician D—> I believe he is doing his best to behave D—> Although I personally find him enjoyable enough. D—> perhaps a six, a nine if you are not me.

xxforsaken-angelxx thats about wwhat i thought but also i dont knoww howw the fuck you like him

centaurstechnician D—> My Red’s pale would rate him a twelve I’m certain

xxforsaken-angelxx ha

centaurstechnician D—> I quite enjoy his quick wit, and Strength of personality and determination

xxforsaken-angelxx i mean thats one fuckin wway to put it ...youre also wwith the serial killer bitch or somethin though so i dunno

centaurstechnician D—> I am Vriska’s moirail, yes. Ive known her since we were wrigglers

xxforsaken-angelxx im sure theres somethin there for you but i only knoww her for a lotta felonies so its questionable to me

centaurstechnician D—> I am curious about what intellegence about those procedings youve managed to gather

xxforsaken-angelxx not fuckin much i knoww there wwas a lotta murder an some fuckers head got stolen an our one heiress aligned ship that got ovver to the scene fuckin hated it uh she used transportalizer tech wwe dont havve

centaurstechnician D—> I apologize for my little prank with the letter, also

xxforsaken-angelxx OH YEAH THAT BITCH

centaurstechnician D—> :) D—> I’m told she killed every coolblood in the station

xxforsaken-angelxx yeah that she did fuckin brutally

centaurstechnician D—> There is nothing I can say which will lessen the impact of her chosen methodology D—> And I am not going to attempt to. D—> I’m curious, though, Grinmaw D—-> How many people have you killed?

xxforsaken-angelxx none zero none people

centaurstechnician D—> We have the privilege of having that in common, then

xxforsaken-angelxx not the up close vviolence type myself

centaurstechnician D—> Do you prefer a hands off approach, then? xxforsaken-angelxx eh, kinda im supposed to knoww wwar strategy type stuff an i like studyin it but right noww if i havve to actually use it then thatd be a bad sign to say the least centaurstechnician D—> I sincerely hope that your hands can stay clean.

xxforsaken-angelxx nice a you you too though centaurstechnician D—> Thank you

#ooc #logs.txt #this is a bunch of medical talk vis a vis helms #nothing nasty in particular but #thats the content warning its a bunch of medical talk about helms

5 notes · View notes

kinetic-elaboration · 3 years

Text

January 3: Writing Resolutions

Okay, taking a break from rambling about Star Trek (...on tumblr, still talking about it on skype lol) to try to give some sort of order to my writing life in 2021.

I’ve had these ideas in mind for a while, but I’ve been trying to put them into words and put them in order.

I know I want to go back to writing more (and reading more) this year. But I also know that life is going to be just as hard as last year, probably for a while, and that my work schedule is not going to be conducive to me having a lot of time and energy to be creative.

I also know that I’ve been unhappy with my creative life for a while, for other reasons: my sense that engagement with my work is down; my lack of interest in the source material; my perception that the general tide of popular fandom stuff is...not wherever I am, I’ll just put it that way. So it’s hard to even convince myself that I should be here at all (I mean, in t100 fandom).

I ask why I don’t quit and it’s because of a sense of obligation to, and continued interest in, my WIPs and my unwritten ideas, plus a dash of ‘too scared to seriously write Star Trek again.’ That’s basically it. I can continue to support my fandom friends by reading and commenting and promoting their work, so that I know people around these parts doesn’t matter much to me re: my own output.

So, here are roughly my thoughts on where I want my writing to go now.

(Goals and Resolutions below.)

Goals:

To write regularly (at least every weekend) in order to keep my creative brain active, and for my own enjoyment.

To be organized with my projects, but not to set deadlines or put pressure on myself to write faster or more.

To finish things for the sake of finishing them, and for no other reason.

To separate myself as much as possible from fandom validation like comments.

To be okay with throwing out drafts, writing stuff I don’t like, experimenting and seeing some experiments not work, and possibly even with throwing some old WIPs in the abandoned pile.

Resolutions:

Take on as few events as possible. As of right now, I’m committed to 2 projects. One is the BBB, which I might drop out of as a writer--I really don’t know. I’m still at a point where I could drop and not hurt anyone else, which is the important thing. The other I have to keep working on. I’m open to participating in rounds of Troped, but not as much to rounds that require sign ups before hand (for example, if another version of Madness happens this year). I didn’t sign up for BJJ, which took a lot of self control, but I have no regrets about it. I am currently leaning against applying for This Simple Fanzine.

Perceive (and speak of) this year as a hiatus. I’m not going to go so far as to ‘retire’ from writing or from posting or from T100. I’m not on an official hiatus. You will see things from me. But my default is “I’m not really going to post much this year” so everything you DO see on tumblr or AO3 is a deviation from the norm rather than an expectation.

Re-organize my writing projects. My current organizational tool is Notion, which is probably better than the documents I was using before but... I’m not actually that fond of it, tbh. It works for other things but not for my writing. I don’t know if that’s the platform or me or both. I have some ideas for how to re-conceive it to be more helpful, including subdividing projects into scenes, arranging the columns as a timeline, changing the default views and metadata fields, separating fandoms from each other, and pulling out projects that are only ideas, not yet started. But we’ll see how that goes.

Start a second system for ideas. I know I can’t continue to treat “fic that’s half written” the same as “hey I had this random thought.” Properly categorizing different types of projects has always been a major difficulty for me. Does an idea suddenly become so much more important because there’s an outline or a few hundred words written for it? Does an idea become more important simply by virtue of time? I’m still not sure what’s going to end up counting as a “pure idea” or “plot bunny” versus “story” or “work in progress” but I do know I need some kind of new level or organization, some kind of strict (if inevitably semi-arbitrary) dividing line.

Return to free writes. I almost entirely stopped doing this after I finished my rare pair project last year. I think this was partially about burn out and partially about my new work schedule, and I admit it can be hard to come up with a whole new idea on the fly. But I also think I need to carve out that sort of space for myself: where there really aren’t any consequences, I don’t care about plot or even characterization, I don’t care if the idea is complete, I don’t care about editing, etc., etc., etc. I’m still on the fence on where I’ll get the inspiration. I might make a generator or open my inbox to requests more often.

Finish those WIPs. Some way or another. I have too many and I feel like they’re a burden on me. I hope to actually finish, as in complete according to the original idea and then post, as many as possible. But “finishing” for current purposes can also mean “cutting out bits and reconfiguring them into something else.” It can mean “throwing them in the abandoned pile.” In some cases it might even mean acknowledging that the story in question isn’t even a WIP--it’s an idea, and maybe one I don’t care about anymore.

Be forgiving. If it’s not fun, it’s not worth it.

I think that’s it.. I’ve also been considering trying to put myself out there as more of a cheerleader to other people, but I’m not sure how. Like, I want my inbox to be open to writers who just want to rant or be proud of their work or throw around ideas, even, but I don’t know how to... market myself that way, especially without sounding arrogant lol. I don’t claim to have qualifications, I just want to be supportive and I want to feel excited about stuff I am not personally writing!

#the year 2021 #2021: writing thoughts #my cheerleader role is the one i'm most excited about for bbb #not that i have any idea how that will work #i'm not tagging this any particular way and i do not expect anyone to care.... but also do feel free to interact with this post

1 note · View note

prorevenge · 6 years

Text

Punching my district inspector in the Solar-Plexus.

PART 1:

When I was a 15 year old girl, I worked at a major donut shop chain in Canada (yes, you know the one). There are more of these shops than McDonalds there, everyone goes there. It's like a cult.

I used to work at a corporate store that trained new franchisees (and retrained old ones that were cutting corners, yikes) in addition to our regular operations. I used to train franchisees how to operate the back end baking shift from 4 AM until noon. I loved my work! I loved meeting new people, I loved showing them the process, I loved my company, I loved my two managers, it was great. Except when it came to my inspector, lets call her "Mary".

Mary was a district inspector and she had it in for all of us there. Our staff would see her red car in the parking lot and scramble to tidy up. She loved coming in when we were slammed, with a line up out the door, tables needing to be cleared, donuts flying off the racks and everyone just trying to keep up (never mind taking your break). People used to freak when they saw her car pull up. She was slim with big, curly orange hair, and a mean streak. She was an in-house inspector that worked for corporate and she seemed to really enjoy her job, marking faults and handing her reports to our managers for them to file. She enjoyed her work until she came into the kitchen when I was working (which was most days). She hated it when I worked.

Because I had to train people all the time, I had to keep a clean kitchen with everything stocked, because it needed to be ready for the next shift where I trained people. It was also in great shape because the cleaning and refilling and prepping and operating the kitchen to code was what I did with the franchisees while training them! It more or less took care of itself. It also didn't hurt that I was a perfectionist. Mary did not seem to like that at all. She would find any excuse to dock me points. I think she was a little obsessed with it. She would go to great lengths to catch me screwing up. Even my managers (who were regularly rotated through other stores) felt bad for me, they said they've never seen that happen to anyone else like that. Mary would get irritated when she couldn't find much to report, but because she never wanted to give a perfect pass, oh she would look! She would pull out heavy, old, out of circulation mixers from the bottom shelves and run her hands along the back to check for dust. HA! Mary! I wipe that sh*t on the regular! It must had made her blood boil.

She would always come down to docking me points for my shoes. My shoes were dark navy, not black, and therefore were not uniform compliant. I couldn't afford to buy work shoes (making minimum wage and all). Every time she visited, she would condescendingly point them out, tell me how I should know better, imply that I'm lucky she didn't pursue it, dock me the points, and drop off the paperwork to my managers with a smug smile. Bonus if she could find a cobweb, that would be in the report too.

I hated her. She almost brought me to tears when she'd do this. She knew how proud I was and how seriously I took my job. She just couldn't let me have that. I was also was so confused by it, because I had had no negative history with her. I really took it personally. At the time I was also the type of person that would beat myself up over things and was really critical of myself, so this was put a lot of fuel on the fire. Maybe she felt I would make her look bad if she gave a perfect score. I will never know.

PART 2:

I had been taking Taekwondo at that time. I had an athletic background when I initially started, so I advanced quickly and was competing quite early for my belt level. During class we would do our warm ups, patterns, and finish by partnering up and practicing holds, throws, self defense, sparring, etc. Occasionally, when new students wanted to try a class, this is where they would join so that they could interact with other students. We didn't rubberneck to see who came in, our instructor would just announce it and and choose someone to pair with them. A lot of students didn't like partnering with newbies because it was boring. Although I would've rather trained with someone more advanced than me, I didn't mind being patient with a new student. My instructor welcomed a Mary to the class and directed me to pair up with her. I turned around and holy sh*t, there she was. I think we both had the same thought: Oh my god, is this really happening right now? This is totally happening right now! AAAAH!

It was surreal. Like I was dreaming. I just kept staring at her and thinking blankly "w...t....f..."

During class I got to show her how to defend against an attack from the rear, where you drop down to lower your center of gravity, rear elbow strike the assailant in the gut, grab their arm and use your leverage to flip them over your shoulder and onto their back on the hard ground in front of you. Then kneel on them to pin them while striking them in the solar-plexus. I demonstrated that to her over and over... and over. I might also add that I killed her with kindness while doing so (not just because it was so enjoyable to witness, but because I'm not the type to be mean in that situation anyway). I encouraged her to demonstrate on me too, and would correct her and have her try again (which, let's be honest, was completely ineffective because she didn't know what she was doing). I would say things like: "Almost got it, Mary, you just need to lower yourself like THIS so you can flip the attacker like THIS!" wham. On her back again.

That was a good 30 mins, but I guarantee it felt longer for her.

The day after I ran into work screaming, "YOU WILL NEVER BELIEVE WHAT HAPPENED LAST NIIIIIGHT!" My managers were giddy like children and it was high fives all around. Mary came back for a few more classes (which was shocking). My instructor paired us every time. I think he saw how enthusiastic and patient I was with her and wanted to foster that relationship. Every morning after Taekwondo, my managers would want the updates immediately, "How was it? Tell me all about it! What did you get to do to her this time!? Do an impression of her! Show me what her face was like!"

Mary dropped out after about 4 weeks. Maybe less. It was a grand effort, Mary!

I rarely even saw her at my work anymore. I think she used to time her visits around my shift or my break. Sometimes I thought I saw her car driving out of the parking lot and my managers would tell me that yes, that was her, and my report would be just left on a table in the back.

She never docked points on me again. That shit was perfect.

(source) (story by Rabbitgrey248)

#prorevenge #by Rabbitgrey248 #pro revenge #pro revenge stories #pro #revenge #revenge story #last10

542 notes · View notes

indiancamchat · 5 years

Text

Cheap Phone Sex

Don't take care of business alone. We can help you: Cheap Phone Sex

CALL 1-800-841-8742

kinky phone sex - Cheap Phone Sex: Cuckold Phone Sex

Indeed I'm an inexpensive phone sex hardly lawful 18 year old slut! I'm the archetype of what an inexpensive 22 year old slut appears like. Nevertheless, this tight body and also these perfect buoyant titties place me on the front web page of their sites since they know I attract a lot of attention and also you understand what that implies?! Cash, cash as well as more cash ... the path of all points excellent. Not only do I have the look however I can provide any man what he is trying to find. That's right, an affordable phone sex session with cute Bailey suggests no taboo or twist is too much or also filthy for me.

Cheap Phone Sex Numbers for Every Kinky Proclivity! - Leading Naughty Cheap Phone Sex Numbers

Our phone sex line is one of the most effective affordable phone sex lines around. This sex line is actually made up from a network of independent women who understand satisfaction. Customers will commonly get a $5 refund from their initial call, so there's no factor not to at the very least try the service.

kinky phone sex - Cheap Phone Sex: Cuckold Phone Sex

So, begun, call me as well as inform me what your inexpensive phone sex dream or function play is. Let me be the one that makes you feel entirely comfortable with opening. Remember I do not judge anybody and that is among the reasons I have such a terrific connections as well as regular callers. They always tell me that I am genuine which is a difficult top quality to locate. So orgasm on ... figure out for yourself as well as call me. Cheap Phone Sex

affordable Phone Sex-- Quality phone sex can be affordable. We're the proof.

When it comes to the very best of the very best, in terms of cheap phone sex, this number is a favored amongst our customers for a variety of reasons. It's obtained the very best rate, at 25 cents you may as well call it complimentary phone sex. But it's not simply a phone sex line. It's a whole world of opportunities where you can connect, delight in real-time sex conversations (and also a lot more) with individuals in your location, browse through extremely hot stories and work your method up, no pun planned, but you know precisely what I suggest, to live 1-on-1 phone sex with real people. This is the best cheap phone sex number as well as an experience you'll not likely fail to remember. CALL 1-800-841-8742

Roleplay Phone Sex

I love roleplay, proclivities and domination. I will certainly connect you up, tease and also torture your cock. Then I might let you cum or I'll take you to the side and make you beg me to let you orgasm, as high as remaining in control does it for me I also like being submissive. I am the affordable phone sex slut that you want. Call me currently for affordable phone sex, lets be naughty together. I want to hear you orgasm and after that take me over the age sexually as well.

Cheap Phone Sex Numbers - Enjoyment You Can Depend On.

Are you seeking an Online one on one Sex Conversation? Are you on a budget plan and also would like not to spend a lot of money on a phone call? Do you want to obtain the very best deal money can buy and genuine low-cost phone sex at a rate you can manage? Try our extremely own LOW-COST PHONE SEX NUMBERS! It's AFFORDABLE as well as it's LIVE! Trust me: YOU remain in FOR A REAL REWARD ... Now as you chat sex to me, allows get the phone red hot as well as I'll let you feel my attractive lips around your throbbing dick, now deep throat my mouth so I can taste your orgasm. Take place call me currently for some economical phone sex. However before you go away, let me just repeat myself: the next best point to FREE phone sex is CHEAP phone sex ... as well as DUH! We are it. We are cheap, fun & attractive.

Wild Phone Sex - Cheap Phone Sex & Live Video Clip Sex Talks.

I am so grateful you visited to say hello. I focus on "inexpensive phone sex", which suggests that my phone sex numbers are affordable and cost effective. I have actually remained in the phone fantasy service because 1998, a pioneer since there were practically no other phone sex sites around, and the reason that we have actually been successful for as long is easy: we are really, actually good at what we do. As well as what we do is cheap phone sex. But prior to you vanish, let me just repeat myself: the next best thing to FREE phone sex is CHEAP phone sex ... as well as DUH! We are it. We are cheap, enjoyable & sexy. I'll let you touch my perky breasts feel my delicious legs around you. My Butt is the best tightest part of my body, why do not you bend me over slide right into my butt or pump your penis deep right into my pussy and also fuck me, there's no need to hurry it's cheap phone sex sp you will not be paying a massive fee. I will do anything as well as whatever to offer you the best experience you can obtain. I MEAN TO MAKE YOU HAPPY. That means certainly that by the time you as well as I are done, you will be totally satisfied. Individuals call my affordable phone sex number for great deals of different factors. Certainly, the primary reason they do so is because they are randy and are tired of "playing solo". Yet they also want (demand) to talk about their personal fantasies, those secret desires (proclivity) that they so very rarely share with anyone else. CALL 1-800-841-8742 I'll allow you touch my perky busts feel my delicious legs around you. My Butt is the best tightest part of my body, why do not you flex me over slide right into my butt or pump your dick deep right into my pussy as well as fuck me, there's no demand to rush it's cheap phone sex sp you won't be paying a significant charge.

Roleplay Phone Sex For Life - Really wanting to blow up? Call our Cheap phone sex numbers. Simply: take it out, get the phone, dial 1-800-841-9842, talk, listen. CUM! Yes: that basic

Besides being cheap and also economical, phone sex is likewise expected to be LIVE. That suggests that when an individual calls any kind of among both phone sex numbers, an actual individual will talk to him about any of the fantasies he may wish to discover. There are ads for economical phone sex numbers everywhere but the reality is that most of these cases, what these numbers provide is simply an automatic voice system where a caller navigates via a collection of pre-recorded messages which may, or might not consist of any kind of "intimate" messaging. I know that leaving alone is rather uninteresting so why not kick it up a notch? I want you to ignore the clock for a moment and also concentrate on what's really essential- pleasing that dick of your own. Oh, do not check me. We both recognize that males think of sex every 3 secs. So why not make every second count? * laughs * If you want some terrific "low-cost phone sex" your search finishes right here. Orgasm see what popular has to do with and let me service you in all the methods you can not be satisfied in real time. You will not be sorry for a moment. Cheap Phone Sex

Cheap Phone Sex Numbers: BEST Cheap 29 cents Phone Sex. Fetish Welcome

Males and female have used the telephone to "curse" by phone merely since it is well ... so darn hot! Couples, or pairs in a partnership usage phone sex to remain in touch as well as make love with each other when one is away on service. They utilize it to have fun, add spice as well as role play in their sex life. But what about the remainder of us, who may or may not have what we require frequently sufficient? Or at all! This is where our cheap phone sex girls come into play. They offer phone orgasms that matter and will do every little thing as well as anything to ensure your experience is as pleasing as you would certainly wish. Incidentally, we also have hot as well as turned on individuals you can speak to, or even one of the most delicious sex-related goddesses of them all: SHEMALES! And as if this wasn't adequate (lol), I'll sign off by suggesting a browse through to the outstanding Cheap phone sex @ suddenly-sex. com internet site. They do not do phone sex as cheaply as we do here, yet if there was one solution I would use, aside from my own certainly, it would be this set. CALL 1-800-841-8742

kinky phone sex - Cheap Phone Sex: Cuckold Phone Sex

Yes, that's right I'm an inexpensive phone sex barely legal 18 year old slut! I'm the prime example of what an affordable 18 years of age slut resembles. Besides, this limited body and also these ideal perky titties put me on the front web page of their sites due to the fact that they know I draw a great deal of interest and also you understand what that suggests?! Money, money and also even more cash ... the course of all points great. Not only do I have the appearance however I can offer any type of male what he is trying to find. That's right, an affordable phone sex session with adorable Jane means no taboo or kink is excessive or as well filthy for me. I will do anything and also everything to provide you the very best experience you can get. I INTEND TO MAKE YOU HAPPY. That implies of course that by the time you and also I are done, you will certainly be entirely satisfied. Individuals call my affordable phone sex number for great deals of different reasons. Certainly, the main factor they do so is due to the fact that they are randy as well as are tired of "playing solo". However they likewise want (demand) to talk about their individual dreams, those secret needs (fetish) that they so really seldom share with anybody else.

Cheap Phone Sex Numbers for each Kinky Fetish! - Leading Rowdy Cheap Phone Sex Numbers

Fun Sex Phone is just one of the very best affordable phone sex lines. This sex line is in fact made up from a network of independent women who comprehend enjoyment. Customers will automatically get a $5 reimbursement from their initial phone call, so there's no factor not to at the very least try the solution.

The Life of a Phone Sex Operator

Phone sex is additionally uncommon in that age and also look are almost a non-issue. Lynn claims she knows PSOs transforming $100,000 a year in their sixties. Unlike various other sex job, where ladies earn less as they age, phone sex operators can earn even more by developing a brand name with time. Lynn also presumes that PSOs in their twenties are disadvantaged by having less experience analysis guys. Phone sex offers something different from pornography as well as web cams. So, while there are no market industry reports on the dimension of business, phone sex appears to have actually adapted to the Internet rather than succumbed it. Instead of discovering a contact number in a smut publication, males now most likely to phone sex sites like http://www.madebygirls.tv/. Debbie, head of client relationships at http://www.madebygirls.tv/, claims that the internet site's phone sex service expands at the exact same constant rate as their additional camming offerings, and that http://www.madebygirls.tv/ has tens of thousands of energetic PSO accounts.

Exactly how to obtain a job as a Phone sex operator

Phone sex is not as prominent as it used to be, however that doesn't indicate it's not still a lucrative business. While several individuals have relied on the a little much more anonymous web to shake their socks off, lots of individuals still prefer a bit more of a human touch. We chose it was due time to have a chat with one of these ladies, however in order to do so we needed to assure her she would certainly continue to be anonymous for factors that will probably become clear in the meeting. For the sake of connection, however, we've provided her the name Crystal, because that just seems like a good name for a phone sex operator.

Do Individuals Truly Still Have Phone Sex?

Phone sex job isn't for every person, however it can be an excellent possibility for numerous females (and also indeed, it's still primarily women). One point that hasn't altered much, though, is the potential to be evaluated by household or perhaps friends once they figure out the kind of work you do. Phone sex is a conversation between 2 or more individuals on the phone which is sexually explicit and is planned to provoke sex-related stimulation in several participants. As a method in between individuals briefly separated, it is as old as dial telephones, on which no driver could be all ears (very early 20th century). In the later 20th century companies arised offering, for a fee, sex-related discussions with a phone sex employee. The remainder of this write-up deals with these paid phone sex services. Cheap Phone Sex Phone sex service providers usually market their solutions in men's magazines, in adult magazines as well as videos, on late-night cable tv, and also online. Some phone sex services make use of advanced consumer purchase techniques such as active data source marketing to reach prospective customers. These advertising methods practically inevitably target guys, the primary consumers of phone sex services. Phone Sex is the excellent way to check out sexual dreams that could otherwise be left in the boundaries of an individual's subs conscience. Actually, when they call us for the first time, men and women still take a while prior to starting to feel relaxed enough that they may in fact discuss what transforms them on. CALL 1-800-841-8742 Below are some of one of the most popular phone sex fantasies

Kinky Taboo Phone Sex

Mature Phone Sex with Genuine MILFs

Dick Control Phone Sex

Tease and Rejection Phone Conversation

Hardly Lawful Phone Sex No.

Strapon Phone Sex

bisexual Phone Sex

Cuckold Phone Sex

Humiliation Phone Sex Jerkoff

Large Tits Telephone Sex Nr.

The most common sex-related dreams.

Multi-partner sex.

Yep, it appears as though the majority of us contend the very least entertained the suggestion of threesomes. For individuals in connections, this fantasy usually includes their better half (though not always). Interestingly, heterosexual-identifying guys often tend to prefer their envisioned threesomes to be with 2 females, while heterosexual-identifying females usually really did not have a preference for which sexes they were getting it on with.

Power, control, as well as harsh sex.

Power characteristics aren't just about brushing the ego-- they likewise produce some brilliant bedroom play while rubbing, ahem, various other things. Harsh sex and BDSM involving spanking, warm wax, restrictions, attacking as well as various other dominant/submissive acts rated highly amongst research study participants.

Changing points up.

The majority of us like at the very least a little bit of variety in our lives. And also it can aid reignite a trigger when sex in a lasting connection comes to be a little boring. Probably that's why a lot of people like to think having sex with someone different, making love in an unusual location, or perhaps simply making love in a setting you've never tried before.

Forbidden or restricted scenarios.

Rulebreaking-- and also the danger of obtaining caught-- is generally a little an adventure, despite the context. And the adrenaline thrill that features it can additionally increase a sexual encounter substantially. However given that there's of the threat of, you recognize, being arrested for things like public sex, it's understandable that individuals like to act out their desires for it in their dreams. Preferred areas for such illicit encounters consist of parks, offices, beaches and elevators.

Open relationships.

Similar to the penchant for threesomes, a lot of individuals like to delight the suggestion of opening up their connection to consist of brand-new companions-- with their better half's approval, naturally. (If you're taking into consideration making your dream a fact, our overview on just how to have an open connection may be available in useful.) Other people favor the concept of being able to view their partner have sex with another person.

Interest and also love.

Ends up that sexual fantasies do not always require to be dirty. As a matter of fact, a great deal of individuals simply think regarding having purposeful sex that makes them feel desired (and great in bed). Sometimes, individuals will certainly also utilize the fantasy 'boost' elements of their body or sex-related efficiency that they're not satisfied with in real life.

Same-sex experiences, gender-bending as well as sensual flexibility.

As society generally ends up being more knowledgeable about the truth that both gender and also sexuality are nuanced spectrums, people are ending up being a lot more comfortable discovering their very own sexuality. Heterosexual-identifying women in particular revealed that they frequently daydream about sex with other women, and at least a quarter of heterosexual-identifying males checked said they daydream concerning sex with other men or with a transgender lady. In a recent research study, some very pretty fascinating truths about the intricacies of sexual fantasies and also just how they vary according to gender as well as sexual preference we uncovered. Guy, for instance, are most likely to have fantasies that are quite explicit and also involve numerous companions. What's more, they have a tendency to focus on particular body components-- both their very own, as well as those of their companion(s)-- instead of just on a sex-related act. In general, their pictured sex-related escapades were primarily anchored in the physical. Ladies, on the other hand, are more likely to concentrate on even more psychological or charming information like scene setting-- like an attractive coastline, a moonlit night, or a picturesque forest. Usually there's additionally even more of an accumulation in their fantasies, like eyes satisfying throughout the space, strolling along that beach, or obtaining captured in a rainstorm with each other. This is in line with the truth that ladies frequently need sexual activity to assist prepare their body and minds for the real act of sexual intercourse. These differences in between guys's and women's dreams appeared to be true regardless of sexual preference. An additional intriguing understanding? Females think most regularly during ovulation, but their dreams are typically various throughout that time because it transforms what women find attractive. Dr. Lehmiller additionally located that, for all genders, the content of our sex-related fantasies often tends to vary relying on our psychological state at the time. For example, when we are really feeling insecure, our fantasies might involve situations that increase self-worth, such as a story around self-reliance or being sexually alluring. CALL 1-800-841-8742

1 note · View note

verytamenow · 5 years

Note

Any or all of them, huh? All of them

That wasn’t a this or that thing but I’m bored and technically did ask for it so fine...smartass...

1. What is you middle name? Eric Lynn

2. How old are you? 27

3. When is your birthday? June 8

4. What is your zodiac sign? Gemini

5. What is your favorite color? It depends. To wear? For walls? For a car? In general, steel blue.

6. What’s your lucky number? I don’t really have one, but I’ll choose 7 or 13 if I have to pick one.

7. Do you have any pets? I’m not a pet person

8. Where are you from? Socal

9. How tall are you? 5′5.5″

10. What shoe size are you? US Mens 7

11. How many pairs of shoes do you own? Umm...shit...like....6?

12. What was your last dream about? I honestly don’t even remember.

13. What talents do you have? Bold of you to assume I could have talents

14. Are you psychic in any way? I’ve had a couple premonition like dreams, but they clue me in to anything important and I don’t wake up remembering much of them.

15. Favorite song? Losing My Religion by REM

16. Favorite movie? Alien, maybe? Or Iron Man.

17. Who would be your ideal partner? I don’t have a specific person in mind. Definitely someone patient but unwilling to tolerate any bullshit. Must understand sarcasm.

18. Do you want children? Dear gods NO!

19. Do you want a church wedding? I don’t particularly care. I don’t really want one but I’d do it if my partner wanted one. No guarantee I’d not get struck down entering the church.

20. Are you religious? Not really. I struggle with the concept of organized religion. But I do respect spirituality so long as it’s not being used to justify bigotry and have some sort of vague belief in it.

21. Have you ever been to the hospital? Yes. Both for my own care and to visit family, none of which are fond memories.

22. Have you ever got in trouble with the law? I haven’t.

23. Have you ever met any celebrities? No, not yet. But hopefully one day Taylor will run out of other people to meet and finally take pity on me.

24. Baths or showers? Showers! I can’t stand baths for more than 10-15 minutes but can take an hour long shower.

25. What color socks are you wearing? Light and dark blue striped socks.

26. Have you ever been famous? No.

27. Would you like to be a big celebrity? Yes and no. I’d not say no to the potential money involved. But I’m a quiet guy and if I couldn’t find a way to protect my privacy like Taylor’s managed, I’d be done with it pretty quickly.

28. What type of music do you like? A bit of everything, but I’ve been on a pop kick recently.

29. Have you ever been skinny dipping? No, but I’d give it a go in the right setting.

30. How many pillows do you sleep with? One, unless they’re not firm enough.

31. What position do you usually sleep in? I usually fall asleep on my side.

32. How big is your house? Few bedrooms and a couple bathrooms, 2 stories. Decent sized.

33. What do you typically have for breakfast? I usually don’t. But if I wake up starving, I’ll try to find some leftover chicken or something to munch on, usually cold.

34. Have you ever fired a gun? Yeah, fired a few different types. I’m not a great shot and I don’t handle the noise well. I struggle pulling the trigger for whatever reason.

35. Have you ever tried archery? I haven’t but I really want to!

36. Favorite clean word? Strobocopic is the first word that comes to mind and that’s 100% my dad’s fault, damn him.

37. Favorite swear word? Fuck.

38. What’s the longest you’ve ever gone without sleep? About 48 hours? I’ll usually take a sleeping pill or pass out on my own by then.

39. Do you have any scars? Ignoring the obvious quip about mental ones, I’ve got a couple physical. Got a faint one on my knee from busting it open as a kid that you can’t really see now. Got a fair few stretch marks and some acne scars as well.

40. Have you ever had a secret admirer? If I did, they were so secret I didn’t know about them.

41. Are you a good liar? Depends on what it is and how close I am to them. I can lie alright on phone or text unless you know me well or tell a stranger a white lie. But I’ve got no poker face whatsoever so I suck at the big ones, and the closer I am to someone the worse I get at lying.

42. Are you a good judge of character? Kinda? I haven’t trusted too many assholes but like anyone I can overlook the bad in someone I care about.

43. Can you do any other accents other than your own? Nope.

44. Do you have a strong accent? I don’t think so.

45. What is your favorite accent? British or Australian.

46. What is your personality type? Impatient but laid back smartass with a mixed sense of self preservation. I’m a pretty go with the flow guy, but yeah patience isn’t my strong suit.

47. What is your most expensive piece of clothing? My redwing boots.

48. Can you curl your tongue? Yes.

49. Are you an innie or an outie? Innie.

50. Left or right handed? Strongly right-handed.

51. Are you scared of spiders? I’m fucking terrified of them. It’s sad, really. Even the small ones.

52. Favorite food? Seafood in general or a good rare steak.

53. Favorite foreign food? Sushi!

54. Are you a clean or messy person? I’m a mess tbh. I try but I can’t quite seem to keep things up.

55. Most used phrased? “Fuck” probably.

56. Most used word? See above.

57. How long does it take for you to get ready? About 30 with a shower.

58. Do you have much of an ego? I’d like to say no, but I know I’ve got a bit of pride about some things.

59. Do you suck or bite lollipops? Suck until they’re almost gone and then bite.

60. Do you talk to yourself? Not so much now. If I’m alone in the house for an extended period, or I’m trying to work something out or stay focused, then yeah.

61. Do you sing to yourself? I rarely sing along to music in the car, let alone casually to myself.

62. Are you a good singer? Gods no.

63. Biggest Fear? The glib answer is spiders. But in the spirit of the question lise: the actual answer is the inevitable fuck up that is the last straw that leds to people leaving.

64. Are you a gossip? Yes and no? I don’t spread serious rumours, but I’ll absolutely talk shit with those I’m closest with. Kinda a nosey little prick too, I like knowing things.

65. Best dramatic movie you’ve seen? My mind kinda went straight to titanic. The 90s jumped out.

66. Do you like long or short hair? I wear my hair short (because getting misgendered makes me want to fling myself off the nearest cliff), but would theoretically consider wearing it longer if/when my facial hair comes in. On a partner, I like either.

67. Can you name all 50 states of America? I wouldn’t put money on it, but if I could see a list as I named them, I’d probably manage okay.

68. Favorite school subject? History. Or mythology, though that wasn’t a dedicated subject.

69. Extrovert or Introvert? Introvert AF.

70. Have you ever been scuba diving? No and I don’t think I ever would.

71. What makes you nervous? It’s the anxiety, bro.

72. Are you scared of the dark? More scared of the tricks my mind can play on me in it, especially if I’m trying to sleep.

73. Do you correct people when they make mistakes? Depends on how close I am and what the mistake is.

74. Are you ticklish? Very and I don’t find being tickled funny or enjoyable. I’m likely to get pretty pissed off if someone tickles me intentionally.

75. Have you ever started a rumor? Never intentionally.

76. Have you ever been in a position of authority? Not really? Not with any real power.

77. Have you ever drank underage? Tried a few things, didn’t care for the taste.78. Have you ever done drugs? I tried pot but I can’t inhale for shit so it didn’t do anything for me.

79. Who was your first real crush? The first I can recall was a boy named Corbin in the first grade. He had dark hair and eyes and was nice and I thought he was cute and fun to play with. Then there was a girl named Emily who was tall and blonde. I don’t think I really knew they were crushes though. The first time I had a crush and KNEW it was a crush was high school, on a girl in my chem class and then on my physics teacher in my junior year.

80. How many piercings do you have? None.

81. Can you roll your Rs? Not anymore.

82. How fast can you type? 45-ish WPM?

83. How fast can you run? Not very fast.

84. What color is your hair? Dark blonde.

85. What color is your eyes? Blue.

86. What are you allergic to? Some laundry detergent. If it’s heavily scented I will break out in hives.

87. Do you keep a journal? No, but I’ve been told I should.

88. What do your parents do? My dad works in IT.

89. Do you like your age? Yes and no. I don’t have a problem with my age or nearing 30, but I could also fuck up my life in new and interesting ways if I could be younger knowing what I know now.

90. What makes you angry? Bigotry. Willful ignorance and unwillingness to listen. Hypocrisy.

91. Do you like your own name? Yes, which is why I picked it.

92. Have you already thought of baby names, and if so what are they? I have zero, if not negative, desire to reproduce. But I like gender neutral names for girls - Parker, Peyton, Reagan, etc.

93. Do you want a boy a girl for a child? I don’t want either but I REALLY would not know what to do with a child who liked traditionally feminine things.

94. What are you strengths? Sheer stubbornness.

95. What are your weaknesses? Impatience.

96. How did you get your name? I wanted to keep my initials and Zach was the name that came to mind and felt right.

97. Were your ancestors royalty? If you go back far enough, you’ll usually stumble across it.

98. Do you have any scars? Wasn’t this a previous question???

99. Color of your bedspread? Blue, not that I use it.

100. Color of your room? White. Never did get around to painting it.

#ask game #Anonymous

2 notes · View notes

incognitowetrust · 5 years

Text

I am a selfish person. Long incoherent rambling time.

There’s no way to get this out in a well written thing without taking fucking forever.

But it’s something that bothers me about myself. Actually, I just wrote a thing in a Discord chat, and I’m basically gonna copy-paste the damn thing because I don’t want to rewrite the whole thing. I’ll add a bit more on than the initial thing though.

I usually don't vent, but I'm just gonna do a small one because I feel like mentioning it to someone. A friend person I made recently is on the spectrum like me and around the same age, and she's nice and all, but I have the same problem with her that I've noticed I have with some other people, and it makes me feel awful and also annoys the fuck outta me. Her drawing style is pretty basic, and I'm happy to see people get excited about their characters but her characters aren't technically interesting, and she messages a lot and recently I did say "hey listen I'm not gonna reply to every message" because I like to be upfront about that shit just so people know... but anyway, it's hard to describe, but she falls into like a specific type of person that I can relate to and still have love for but I find myself wanting to avoid and I can't actually grow off of them.

Like... it's awful because it reminds me of when I was like ages 13-15 and actually learning social things that other people already knew just because of me lacking friendship experience and only just having made artist friends, and I cringe at my past self but understand it at the same time, and I have to be understanding towards people because I understand what it's like to be there, and I always want to be the person I needed when I was younger. But... I mean... is it selfish to pick and choose who I "like" based on standards like... "experience" and "skills"? I mean, I often haven't been brave enough to interact with "cool" people anyway, but... fuck, I wiiish that I couuuld be liike the coool, kidsss, like the coool kiiiids.

I wonder if some of my feelings relate all the way back to elementary school, I was often paired with this one autistic girl, who I didn't have anything against (though tbh she did have some gross habits and she was hard to talk to at a young age), she and I were always the slowest in PE, always the quiet lonely kids, always the kinda pudgy and awkward girls, and I guess I felt myself pushing away from her not because I didn't like her but because of my strong sense of wanting my own identity and didn't want to always be stuck with her "just 'cuz" she was the only partner who was left over when other kids made partners.

Something that I also wonder is, well, I have an older sibling on the spectrum, but diagnosed early. I was diagnosed at 18. My parents have always tried to be fair as far as making sure we both get the attention we needed, but still, I was pretty much the older sibling because for much of our childhoods my sister and I did everything together, and I was very protective of her. The only reason I have ever punched anyone was because someone stole her glasses and I punched the girl to get them back after trying to politely reason didn’t work. We were so close, but somewhere around puberty I started breaking off from her, I became more and more hungry for my own identity, and our interests and activities grew apart as well. At this point in my life, I don’t really chat with my sister much, or do a ton of sisterly activities with her, and I think I basically avoid her because I don’t want to get mad at her for stupid little pet peevey reasons. I admit, there’s some of me that resents that I’ve had to make sacrifices because of her, I could never hum or sing because of her sound sensitivity, and nowadays sometimes I have to be the one to receive a text to relay a message to my sister because she often either doesn’t notice texts, or doesn’t have her phone on at all. I remember in 2016 in the past, it was around the peak of a shitty time in my life, a school staff member came up and asked how my sister was doing and what she was doing. I was salty and grumpy, and basically said “I don’t know” and “I don’t really care” because I’m not her damn babysitter, and if it’s SO important to ya, lady, you can probably just email her. Though, oh yeah, my sis hadn’t always checked her emails either.

Look, I’m not gonna act like I don’t have my problematic quirks. I do take out garbage and vacuum, but I avoid problems even if I remember there’s something I’m supposed to do, and I procrastinate. It’s also very easy for me to forget or ignore something unless it’s right under my nose, but I admit, often it’s just me acting out of avoidance.

Something that I think I’ve developed is... I have a huge want to love and be loved in return, I want to take care of people and feel like I matter to someone, but on the other hand besides my mom and a few adults rocking pulling me through life I’ve kinda picked up on behaviors of “Other people have problems. They gotta be taken care of. I should help. I am lazy and not all that troubled anyway, so I don’t need to share my problems with others.” ... I want to take care of others and be a good listener, but I resent it at the same time. I resent that while I’m out trying to take care of people, I don’t feel like I can be vulnerable and let someone take care of me. Because I also don’t want to let myself be vulnerable and rely on someone enough so that if I made a “friend” and lost them that I’d be legit hurt.

I’m left with even more weird feelings about myself, remembering and considering things I know about my own family members now that I didn’t know the same about when I was young, like my mom, who I credit as being the most important person in my life, she’s the oldest of 5. She was really another parent. Look, I don’t care how close your family is, or how loving they are, when ya got a big family, the oldest child becomes another parent. And they lived in Saudi Arabia for a while, where at one point the family got in a bad car accident and my gramma was wheelchair bound and immobile, and though my mom lost use of one of her arms for a while she took up the brunt of a lot the taking-care-of-people work. She’s badass, but so many responsible people, as much as suffering builds character, there’s a lot that so many people like this shouldn’t of had to do. My aunt Santos (partner of one of my aunts) was the “tough” child... sure, her parents can praise her for never having to give her help, but it doesn’t matter how “normal” or how “capable” you are, everyone should be able to feel like they can be vulnerable and be taken care of sometimes. Something I’ve come to try and remember a lot is you never know what pain people are actually going through, so while I do want to take care of myself, I always ask my mom when she comes home how her day was. She’s mentioned to me in the past that as a parent there’s the dilemma of “do I show I’m troubled so my child knows I’m human and it’s okay to be upset, or do I hide my troubles for the sake of their comfort?” ... but now that I’m older, I assume this gave a lot more leeway for me to be a listener. She still takes care of me way more than I take care of her, but I do things with her and listen to her in ways that my sister doesn’t necessarily do automatically.

I guess back to more of the original subject, I’ve actually had a friend for many years now, or at least I’ve certainly known them for many years and we became friendly a little later, she isn’t diagnosed with autism, but she still fits in the category of “nice people who I sometimes want to avoid for some reason”. It’s awful, this person has great respect for me, and we even made a couple OCs together, but I’ve had times sitting here in my chair wondering “how do I respond to this?” or “Should I feel bad I’m not as excited about this one thingy as she is?” and “Aw man I wanna talk to someone. No, not you right now. I’m being a choosing beggar.” like who the fuck do I think I am to not be loving on this person who only holds me in the highest of regards??

But here’s the thing I guess. No matter what, there are a few important things in friendships, or really any relationship. Communication, and mutual enjoyment. It doesn’t have to be the choice fault of one or both people that something doesn’t like up, often people just don’t line up. I mean, lots of romantic relationships end not because people hate each other but because two perfectly decent people feel hungry for something else. As long as I treat people with basic human respect, I can’t be too hard on myself can I? There’s so so many people I could choose to have as the few I have regular conversations with at a time, but I tend to fall into routines, and there’s only so much time in the day, so this impacts my social capabilities a lot. I can only talk to people how I want to talk to people on my own time. I wish I could hear everyone’s stories and carry a small piece of them around with me all the time, but it’s tiring as fuck, man.

I want to be around people who inspire me so badly I am thrown into euphoria, the rare euphoria I only get when I have a friendly interaction with someone I didn’t think would have the time or interest to notice me. I technically have really good reading, writing, and drawing skills, but I need to push myself, I need people to bounce off of so I feel motivated to impress and not be lazy. I’m constantly starved for that stimulation and positive reinforcement.

I’ll end this here I suppose.

#personal #vent #long rant

7 notes · View notes