#but at the same time I’m either touch-repulsed or touch-starved and I can never tell when I wanna be touched (becuz trauma ugh) and just | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

hellyeahbakubby · 4 years

Text

“how they hint that they’re in the ~mood~” | bnha

♔ - headcanons how a few of the bnha boys let you know that they’re in the mood. pairings - dabi x reader, aizawa x reader, todoroki x reader, chisaki x reader, bakugou x reader tags - NSFW HEADCANONS, mentions of sex, kisses, neck kisses, hORNY bois, swearing. [CHARACTERS AGED 18+] a/n - i’m not dead guys, i swear. and idk why THIS is what I’m writing but uh, here you go ig x also gonna start pre-writing things for our favourite october writing event ;) if ya know what I mean so perhaps maybe a little sprinkle of fluff or angst during that time. masterlist ▬ [ check out “how they hint that they’re in the ~mood~” for present mic here! ] WARNING: SLIGHT NSFW, nothing explicit or graphic but proceed responsibly if you are under the age of 16.

dabi ▪︎ ✝️

Any other day Dabi is a cocky lil shit, always teasing you, making sure to push all your buttons, giving you that shit-eating grin, but when he’s in the mood it’s suddenly much more direct, much more purposeful,

He’s not longer only looking for a reaction, he’s on a mission and one way or another he’ll get what he wants,

Expect to be be stalked through the hallways of the hideout, a cloaked mass never far behind. Expect him to come up behind you as you stand fixing a snack for yourself, his heavy breath blowing across your neck as he puts his hands on your waist, cooing something into your ear. Expect the amount of eye contact and physical affection to escalate,

However if you don’t catch on to his increased attention he’ll happily spell it out for you, a quick kiss or nib to the supple skin below your ear, a squeeze or smack to the ass followed by a lewd purr, a loud comment on how “fucking hot” you look or an innuendo tossed at you from across the room,

If you’re still oblivious to what he wants he’ll look you dead in the eyes and politely ask you ‘to help him out with something’ a hungry gleam in his shiny blue eyes, or he’ll just straight up as you to jump in his lap or suck his dick. He isn’t ashamed of what he wants by any stretch.

aizawa shouta ▪︎ 🌃

Shouta is far more subtle about showing what he wants, he tries not to be too direct and most of the time ends up letting you know through indirect subconscious actions he makes,

Although they aren’t rare, kisses with Shouta will become ten times more frequent, and more intense, a longer kiss on the cheek in passing (he’ll find as many excuses as possible to do this), more forceful ‘hello’ kiss on the lips, if he’s feeling really hot it may just so happen that his tongue slips its way past your lips as well,

He’ll also stand up straighter. His normally slouched shoulders will be replaced with almost perfect posture in an attempt to appear bigger, stronger, to catch your attention. Most of the time he doesn’t realises he’s doing it,

When he’s in the mood he’ll begin to get undressed ie. he’ll loosen or take off his tie if he’s wearing one, he’ll be quicker to lose his capture weapon, or he’ll change from his long-sleeved sweatsuit into a pair of tighter sweat pants and a well-fitting tee. Yet again another thing he’s not fully conscious of,

And finally the hair goes up, whether it’s a bun or just a simple ponytail, it means business. Unless, he’s sitting down to finish some paperwork, once it’s up you know exactly what’s about to go down. It’s begun to confuse him how you seem to know exactly when he’s in the mood seeing as he rarely tells you straight to your face,

BONUS: I also feel like Shouta is the type of person to have a set day or time to fool around planned in advance, taking into account when your schedules align and making sure both of you are properly prepared (also planning ahead gives more opportunity for less conventional.

todoroki shouto ▪︎ ☯️

Shouto tries to let you know directly, but for a while his signs are just a little too subtle for you to pick up on,

Bending down, he’ll nudge his head into shoulder, nuzzling you in a most affectionate manner. He’s all about letting you know through physical contact and while he is incredibly sexy, he’s not as smooth as some of the others. He might walk up behind you, slipping his hands around your waist but instead of whispering anything of the spicy nature he’ll just lightly hum against your neck, an occasional kiss or bite placed to your skin,

He’s very subtle, almost romantic about letting you know, his sweetness sometimes hiding his desire. “You smell wonderful, angel.” He’ll compliment you in the kindest way, supposedly trying to let you know how hot he is for you right now but unfortunately he also says the same things whenever he sees you,

One of the things he does which immediately lets you know what he wants is when he kisses you. Any other time a kiss with Shouto is romantic, a light peck on the lips, a couple of seconds or two long but when he’s in the mood shit gets real. You can feel the passion behind his lips and it’s sort of unnerving how hungry he gets to taste you. He could kiss you for hours and if you’ll allow him he’ll pull you into his lap as he kisses you like a man starved,

Finally he’ll run his fingers across your skin. Letting an infinitesimal amount of his power out. Whether it’s a sudden, unexpected heat of his left hand or the brutally icy touch of his right, he knows just how to set your body alight.

chisaki kai ▪︎ 🌇

This man doesn’t hint at anything. The moment Kai wants to do something it’s over for you,

It’s all in the eye contact. As soon as you walk into the room and your gaze meets his you know, whether that’s a good thing or not, you know. The hunger that lies beneath those shiny gold eyes is a tell-tale sign of what’s in store for you and you can’t help but squirm under his gaze

Kai doesn’t care who knows what he’s going to do to you, if anything he enjoys knowing his underlings are well aware of it, it ensures that they know why you belong to (as if he wasn’t overprotective and possessive already). But this means that if he’s feeling into the mood and there are others in the room, perhaps you’re even in the middle of a meeting, he’ll call you over with his steely gaze and a singular beckoning finger. He’ll sit you in his lap and he’ll have you sit there until either he can’t wait any longer or the meeting is over. He’s almost masochistic in the sense that he’ll stop himself from doing anything until he can’t physically control himself.

At which point he’ll throw everyone else out of the room and have you right there, with all of that built up tension.

Another way he’ll show you he’s in the mood, although this rarely happens, is by increased physical touch. Normally repulsed by unnecessary physical affection Kai with subconsciously tell you what he wants by holding your hand, or laying an arm around your shoulder or waist, even stroking your face or running a finger along your lips. This is only ever the times when he doesn’t realise he’s horny or doesn’t want to be because he’s concentration on something else. Although he does enjoy it, sex is far more like something that has to be done to Kai. Sure, he’ll make it a big deal and make sure he and you enjoy it to its full extent but it’s sort of like eating. Needs to be done, can be made more enjoyable by eating (or in this case doing) what you like, but it’s not special or precious in the way it is to others.

bakugou katsuki ▪︎ ✴

Although it isn’t exactly intentionally on his behalf, it’s the change in his demeanor that really lets you knows he’s down to fool around,

Say bye-bye to to “DIE!” and other assorted angry boy statements and say hello to surprisingly suave and smooth boom boom boy,

“Hmmm, princess, look at you.” Eyes flicking up and down you, words rolling off his tongue like honey. He has this unforeseen knack to make you weak at the knees whenever he wants to. It’s like a switch has been flipped. Sure, you find him attractive as hell any other day and he damn well knows it but when he wants to, everything gets serious and that includes his attitude. He’s on a mission now and hoo, boy is he going to achieve it.

However because of the number of times Katsuki and you are beckoned to have dinner with, or go out for a drink with the Bakusquad there is no doubt there have been times Katsuki has been in the mood and you’ve been out and about.

Katsuki is rather private and he is all in favour of keeping everything that goes on between the two of you a secret. But in the instance that you’re out for a drink or whatever and he’s ready to go (in more way than one) he’ll happily be a little more frisky to get your attention. Whether that’s a hand on your thigh, a tighter grip on your waist as he comes up behind you, a soft nib to your earlobe, whatever. So long as you know what he’s trying to say and know that the sooner you leave the better.

9K notes · View notes

bettsfic · 3 years

Text

march pinned: ending the sex project

in the march edition of my lowkey writing-related newsletter, in addition to my writing-related post roundup and upcoming consultation availability, i have personal essay recommendations and a segment on the definition of a project!

for more information on my creative coaching services, check out my carrd.

if you want to receive my lowkey writing-related newsletter directly, you can subscribe here.

full newsletter below the cut, or you can read it here.

fuck february, amiright?

i thought january was bad. but february. february was the stuff of nightmares. my cousin passed away from covid (you can read about her here; she was really an amazing person and i feel so lucky to have known her). i was finally formally diagnosed with PCOS (bittersweet, i guess). my car broke down. i took two (2) days off and it took me two and a half weeks to get caught up again. i can only hope march treats us all a little more gently.

the good news is, i finished revisions on my short story collection to send to my agent, finished workshop submissions for the semester, and now i can return to my first love, fanfiction. that i am constantly working through original fiction to return to fanfiction has been making me think a lot about the nature of a creative, capital-p Project. so, this month’s BTALA (been thinkin a lot about) is going to inspect the concept of a “project.”

new resource

last month i unveiled a folder of my favorite short stories which i’m pleased to hear several of you have perused and gotten some inspiration from. this month i’ve compiled my favorite personal essays. there are fewer essays than there are short stories because i’ve broken them into two groups: personal and craft. next month i hope to have the craft essays compiled.

i’m always looking for more things to love, so if you have recommendations for your favorite short stories and essays, i’d be happy to hear them!

writing-related posts

how to physically maneuver the revision process

the difference between M and E ratings of fic

resources for worldbuilding (check out the reblogs for more!)

a couple syntax/prose book recs

how to break a long work into chapters

march availability

unfortunately i have to cut my coaching hours down a bit, so i don’t have any openings left in march, but i have some availability in april. if you’re interested in a writing consultation, please fill out this google form!

you can learn more about my services on my carrd.

what i’m into rn

for the past year, i’ve basically been trapped in a 10x10 room, and my health is definitely reflecting that, both mentally (does anyone else feel like they’re living in groundhog day? just, every day being exactly the same except fractionally worse than the day before??) and physically (i reorganized the kitchen and could barely move for two days).

reader, i have discovered something called “walking,” in which i put on real human shoes and go outside. it feels strange, bestial. neighbors wave hello to me. a harrowing experience.

while doing this, this walking, i’ve been listening to the lolita podcast which a friend recommended to me, a ten-episode series that dives into everything lolita: the novel itself, its context, adaptations, greater cultural responses, and — as a sticker on my laptop says — vladimir “russian dreamboat” nabokov. as far as i can tell it seems well-researched and presents the many perspectives of lolita in a fair way. i’m only a few eps in, but i’m entranced so far. highly recommended if you, like me, have a complicated relationship with lolita.

i’ve also found myself mildly addicted to a mobile otome game called obey me, which. look i know it’s like the definition of cringe but it’s also mind-numbingly fun and if i want to spend my minimal free time pretending 7 demon brothers are all vying for my affection then that’s between me and god. it’s a lot of what i loved about WoW: frequent events, bright colors, a daily to do list of simple but satisfying tasks, many many rewards, and it doesn’t take itself very seriously. and if i have 4k fic written of mammon/reader that’s nobody’s business but mine and my longsuffering ao3 subscribers.

i’m telling you this because i don’t know anyone else who plays it and am desperate to trade headcanons. so if you play, or start playing, hit me up!! i will give u mad tips and daily AP.

been thinkin a lot about

the project. the project. even the word “project.” PROject (noun). proJECT (verb). what is the project? “project” comes from the latin pro and jacare which means “to throw forward,” or projectum which means “something prominent.” a projector throws forward an image. to project onto something means to throw your perspective onto something else. to embark on a project is to make something prominent in your life. the concept of “the projects” comes from public housing projects, the government throwing forward affordable housing.

what is the project? in joseph harris’ essay “coming to terms” he says that “to define the project of a writer is…to push beyond his text, to hazard a view about not only what someone has said but also what he was trying to accomplish by saying it.” harris’ perspective is that of an english teacher encouraging his students to read critically, not just to summarize a text but to find its project, its greater purpose. and while i first read this essay in a seminar on composition pedagogy, it stuck with me as a writer. it made me reconsider the greater nature of the creative project.

how many of us, if asked to describe our writing project, would begin with a plot or character premise, the nuts and bolts of a specific story? maybe even the working title? but i wonder, is breaking out the plot really the project? is the discipline of sitting down and typing really the project? and when the story is finished, is the project over? what is the project?

in 2019, i wrote 86k words of a novel. i began revising that novel last fall, and i’m finding that i’ll probably keep maybe less than 10k of that initial draft. i’m not bothered by that. the novel i wrote before that started at 125k, then i rewrote the entire thing to 200k, then i whittled it back down to 160k, and next i’ll be tasked with paring it back down to 80k. i’m not bothered by that either. in the past five years or so i’ve written about 2 million words, and i’ve only published 20k of them. only 1% of what i’ve written, i’ve published. in the words of lauren cooper (catherine tate), i’m not bothered.

i used to see publication as the birth of the project, and writing it akin to a long gestation period. then i saw publication as the death of the project, and its life was lived in its drafting. now, publication seems irrelevant to the project. the confines of a story and its many revisions are also irrelevant to the project. the beginning of a story is not the start of the project and the end of the story is not the end of the project. the project is larger than the story, its revisions, its publication, and its eventual readership.

i think it took me so long to see this because for so many years i was still in my first project, the sex project, an exploration of trauma and sexual identity, which began in 2014 with destiel fanfiction, endured through many fandom shifts, my MFA, years adrift as an adjunct, all the way through 2020 with the completion of my short story collection. i used to wonder how anyone could write about anything other than sex. to me it was the only topic worth my attention. i was certain that i would spend my entire life being a sex writer and i’d never find fulfillment writing a young adult sci fi adventure or a highly literary novel about complicated family dynamics. i was baffled by people who were interested in other things, who could write entire novels without using the word “cock” even once.

then my sex project ended. i don’t know when exactly it happened or why, but suddenly i realized i never wanted to write another artful description of an orgasm or find a tactful euphemism for a vagina ever again (personally i prefer “wet cunt” because not only is it blunt, i find it phonetically pleasing). obviously i’m still writing explicit fanfic but it doesn’t feel the same as it used to. sex feels more sidelined to me, even if it’s still the center and drive of a fic. i no longer get any personal satisfaction from writing it, although i do get satisfaction in sharing the work for readers to enjoy.

it’s like i’ve somehow solved the biggest puzzle of my life. or i guess made peace with my meanest monster, that extremely complicated double-mind of desire that some non-sex-repulsed asexuals feel: you want to feel desire you can’t actually feel so you write it into fiction, to try to understand this thing you can’t have and which society tells you you’re missing, and you don’t even know if you don’t have it, because you still feel desire for affection and intimacy, and maybe even a desire to be desired. and for those of us who are asexual and have c-ptsd, sex you don’t actually want (but don’t know you don’t want, because maybe you��re ambivalent and mildly curious and touch-starved) and an unrelenting drive toward people-pleasing can be a dangerous combination. how can you ever know what consent is if you always put other people’s desires above your own?

maybe i’m alone in this. maybe i’m not. maybe for most people, wanting sex is a light switch: yes i want it, or no i don’t. but for me, i had to write a whole lot of words to figure out things like desire, consent, intimacy, forgiveness, the shape that good love takes. the lengthy theoretical flowchart of “i might be interested in having sex if this and this and this and this and this happens in this exact order and under these exact circumstances.”

it was hard to write something into reality that i have never seen except in pieces, in subtext i clung to with no lexicon to give it shape and meaning. te lawrence in lawrence of arabia. some of tarantino’s early work. the film benny and joon. and weirdly, the star wars prequels (that one’s hard to explain; i’ll spare you). i don’t think the sex project was about coming to terms with my asexuality as much as it was trying to organize my thoughts and feelings by continuously rendering my own experiences within a greater, shinier ideal — like how you sometimes have to unravel the entire skein of yarn to find the loose end, and only then can you get started.

i guess i’m in the infancy of the power project now. i’m moving toward themes of control, infamy, greatness. the exact circumstances in which atrocity occurs. how people rise into leadership and fall from grace. the consequences of success. i don’t know why this project has come to me, or what, if anything, it has to do with me. i’m not famous and have no intention of becoming famous; i don’t have social power or influence, at least not beyond my little corner of fandom, and i’m not interested in having it. and yet, here we are, already hundreds of thousands of words in.

my fics digging for orchids (tgcf) and a standing engagement (the hunger games) deal with the detriments of fame. and even float (breaking bad) to a degree is about the aftermath of being so close to power. my novel cherry pop, loosely based on macbeth, is about an ongoing power exchange between two teenage girls. my other novel, vandal, is about a girl who believes she has magic powers and casts a spell on her neighbor to fall in love with her. and i’m in the very early stages of a novel called groundswell, a cult story i’ve been wanting to write for years. i had no idea why i couldn’t write it until i realized it wasn’t yet my project. i’m not even to the stage of developing characters, let alone a premise or plot. i’m still just building my aesthetic pile (i discuss the aesthetic pile here, as well as vandal in more detail), watching documentaries on cults, reading books, finding inspiration, marking down ideas as they come. it may be years before i’m ready to sit down and write it.

now that i know what the project is, i have more patience with myself. it doesn’t bother me to rewrite a novel from the beginning, or to scrap novels altogether, because the story isn’t the project. the project cannot be diminished by cutting words, sentences, paragraphs, entire chapters. the project does not have a product. the project cannot be published. the project is in the practice, in dragging the impossibly large into clear, acute existence, so you can see it. so you can see the very center of what you thought was an unknowable thing.

#pinned #lkwrnl

22 notes · View notes

katrinawritesthings · 3 years

Text

jong2minkey; himbos only; PG

u ever just wanna snuggle a hot fuckign boy

don't forget to check out my favorite jonghyuns recommendation event and also Jjongsmonth : )

"It's $60 for an hour of snuggling with one," he says, "but if we hire both of them that's only $50 each. So we could get both of them for 2 hours for $200." and of course, they would get both of them. If Kibum gets a hot muscle boy then Taemin gets a hot muscle boy too. And the short one is definitely his type. "And we have to pay for gas and travel time too, but they're pretty close, so I don't think it'll be a lot. And then we have to tip them, obviously."

“I think,” Kibum starts with no preamble, sprawled over the couch with his wine glass precariously perched in three fingers, “that it's rather homophobic that I don't know any hot muscley boys that I can call and tell to come over and snuggle me in their strong warm arms and then kick them out of my house when I'm over it.”

And then he just leaves it at that. Doesn't elaborate, doesn't say anything else. Sips his drink and then flops his arm back out to dangle off of the edge of the couch, wine sloshing threateningly close to the rim. Taemin looks at him, reaches over from his position on the floor to tap his wine glass to a more steady angle. He doesn't care if they get wine splashes on the carpet, but he knows sober Kibum will.

“I'm right here,” he says. He's a hot muscle boy with strong warm arms.

“You're a twink,” Kibum snaps at him. “and I can't kick you out of the house. You live here.”

“Got me there,” Taemin shrugs. He turns back to his laptop, not really bothered. Mostly just amused. Kibum gets like this when he's wine tipsy. Clingy and baby and touch starved and also romance repulsed at the same time. What he needs is just someone to hire to come snuggle him for maybe an hour or two and that's it.

Curious, and with nothing better to do, Taemin looks up professional snugglers on his laptop. He's pretty sure that's a job that people have, and-- yeah. Several sites come up. He scrolls past the ones that seem shady, the ones that look too corporate, the ones that are too lovey dovey.

That's pretty much all of them. Disappointed, Taemin almost closes the tab, but decides to fuck around and try the second page of search results. Just to see what happens. Halfway down, he perks up because he thinks he's found exactly what Kibum is looking for: Himbos On Demand.

He bites his lip as he looks through the website. It's two guys; one tall and slender with wavy long black hair and the biggest brown eyes Taemin has ever seen, and the other shorter and stockier with a toothy, gentle smile that makes even Taemin's aroace ass melt. They have a series of pictures each, from them in comfy fuzzy sweaters to sleeveless tops to shirtless pics, both of them looking so effortlessly shredded and handsome and comfortable in every way. Absolutely both twink adjacent, but still. They definitely have more bulk than Taemin does.

After he looks through the website a little bit more, he picks his laptop up and wiggles over to sit next to Kibum's head.

"Hey," he says, "are you cool with dropping $300?"

"On what?" Kibum asks. It's a little muffled, the words little bubbles reverberating around his wine glass.

"Them," Taemin says, reaching up to put his hand on Kibum’s face and turn him to look at the screen. He watches Kibum’s expression go from annoyed to very interested all very quickly. Kibum reaches down and taps the rim of his wine glass under the taller one's chin. He doesn't say anything, but he taps his wineglass there again, slowly, his tongue coming out to wet his lips. Taemin smiles. He knew Kibum would go for that one.

"It's $60 for an hour of snuggling with one," he says, "but if we hire both of them that's only $50 each. So we could get both of them for 2 hours for $200." And of course, they would get both of them. If Kibum gets a hot muscle boy then Taemin gets a hot muscle boy too. And the short one is definitely his type. "And we have to pay for gas and travel time too, but they're pretty close, so I don't think it'll be a lot. And then we have to tip them, obviously."

He's not sure his words are really processing inside of Kibum’s brain. He stopped tapping his glass against the screen, but has switched to brushing a finger over it instead, like he thinks he can push the stray lock of hair tumbling over the tall one's forehead back behind his ear.

"Aren't you gorgeous," he mumbles softly.

"Is that a yes?” Taemin asks, amused. “They only have one negative review and I read it and the guy just said they were too gay and it made him uncomfortable, so like, that's honestly just another recommendation.” Too gay is never a problem.

Kibum doesn't say anything for a long time. Instead, he reaches down, swats Taemin's hand away from the touchpad, and clumsily clicks over to check out more of the pictures. When he finds the one with the tall boy in a sleeveless shirt with his arms behind his head and his bottom lip bitten ever-so-gently, he actually gasps out loud.

“How... Buh... You said... How much? 300?” he asks. He swallows audibly and then wrenches his eyes away, curling up against the back of the couch. “Ask me when I'm sober,” he mumbles.

A week later, an equally wine tipsy Kibum droops off of Taemin's left shoulder when he opens the front door to let in their himbos.

Jonghyun is even more hot and buff and cozy looking then he was in his pictures and Taemin is sure that Kibum thinks the same of Minho. While he wiggles off of Taemin and in front of Minho, smiling up half an inch like it's 7, Taemin shakes Jonghyun's strong warm hand and tries to find somewhere on his face where he can look where he won't be too distracted to talk about money and remember how to invite someone into his home.

He doesn't succeed, but somehow, the pair of them manage to get the other two inside so they can start the best two hours of snuggling either of them has ever had.

9 notes · View notes

thewatermelloncat · 4 years

Text

Powers Against the Father (Ben)

Luther, Diego, Allison and Klaus, Five, Vanya

Author’s Note: Let me know if you want to be put in the tag list.

Warnings: None

Tag list:

@lunamusamelark

@ll-short-breadstikz-ll

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

They all stand in a line in the middle of the alley, wearing various looks of defeat on their faces. Ben shuffles uncomfortably on his feet, they had all been standing for awhile now, watching as their father has the fire escape removed from the wall.

“That will be all children” their father turns to them after the truck had pulled out of the alleyway, carrying the scaffolding away. “I hope this serves as a reminder that your curfew is to be strictly adhered to. Am I clear?”

Various murmurs of confirmation sound from around the group before their father turns swiftly, his coat billowing out behind him as he exits the alley.

Gradually the group begin to shuffle on their feet, showing their interest in going back inside. In a mix of traded looks and glances back to the wall where the fire escape used to be, the message is clear: their route to freedom is gone.

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

There was no dinner for them that night – a further punishment for sneaking out the night before. So, after training had finished, they all congregated in Allison’s room, scattered around the place.

Ben sits by the window looking down into the alley. He finds it weird that he can see the ground as opposed to the rusted sheet of metal that was usually there. The ground looks a long way down now.

Not that the distance would be an issue for him if they wanted to escape again, he could use his tentacles to help him down. The issue would be for the rest of his siblings.

Five can obviously teleport, so that would be no matter for him. Klaus and Vanya are supposed to be able to levitate to varying degrees of success, though Ben doubts either would do it voluntarily. Luther could probably jump down, but he’d risk cracking the ground if he landed too heavily. Diego would be a mad man and possibly attempt to scale down the brick, some part of Ben believes that he could actually do it. Leaving the only person who would really be stuck as Allison.

“I’m so bored!” Klaus groans from where he’s sprawled out on the floor like a starfish.

“I’m hungry” Luther complains.

“You brought it on yourself” Diego accuses him.

“What?” Luther scoffs, knitting his eyebrows together.

“If you hadn’t caved into the old man and told him we escaped down the fire escape, he would never have taken it down.”

“It’s hardly Luther’s fault, Diego” Five cuts in. “It’s a pretty obvious answer.”

“That also doesn’t fix the problem of us being hungry though” Vanya adds. “Dad was going to punish us for escaping no matter if he knew how or not.”

“Any rates of sneaking into the kitchen?” Klaus asks.

“None. Mum or Pogo will be patrolling” Ben mumbles still looking out the window.

“Mum might give us food” Klaus says brightly.

“It’s against her programming” Five points out.

“But she’s programmed to feed us.”

“But not to go against dad’s wishes” Five reminds him, to which Klaus huffs and crosses his arms over his chest defiantly like a small child.

“I’m going to die. My stomach’s already eating itself” Klaus groans.

“You won’t starve from one night without food” Luther dismisses.

“I can already see the ghosts coming to collect me” Klaus ignores him.

“You can always see the ghosts” Luther rolls his eyes, crossing his arms as he sinks further back into his chair.

“You won’t die Klaus” Allison smiles down at him from her bed.

“Pray tell me, dear sister, how do you plan to save me?”

“I have a plan. It’s a little farfetched so I need everyone’s agreement” she says looking hopefully around the room.

With nothing better to do they all detach themselves from their various places and come to join her on and around the bed.

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

The stars shine faintly in the sky as Ben sits on his windowsill looking out through the glass, tapping his fingers against the frame nervously as he waits. A flash of blue is reflected back to him and he turns to see Five now standing in his room.

“All clear. Do you want me to blink you down?” he offers to him, knowing that Ben isn’t completely sold on using his ability.

“Nah, it’s okay. You go round up the others” Ben says to him quietly.

Five looks hesitant like he doesn’t believe that Ben really means it, but he blinks out after he watches him turn and open the window.

Holding the window frame up, Ben swivels his legs so they hangout the opening, dangling off the ledge into free space. Pushing the frame up a little more to lock it into place Ben allows his tentacles to extend from his torso.

As much as Ben hates to use them, it does feel nice to stretch them out. Like they are longing for an escape just as much as he is.

Carefully he twists around to face the inside of his room, latching two of them over the window ledge and extending the remaining two down to the pavement below him. Effortlessly they lower him down to the ground like the world’s strangest elevator.

Although the height didn’t scare him, he does sigh in relief when his feet touch solid ground. Turning back to face the academy he retracts his tentacles back in, keeping them out of the way as he waits for his siblings to appear by the windows.

As the portal in in torso closes one flashing blue opens next to him and Five stumbles out. Quickly Ben reaches an arm out on reflex but Five’s already got it covered as he steadies himself against the wall. Still Ben doesn’t remove his hand from his shoulder.

“You good?”

“Low blood sugar” Five admits, blinking a few times to get his vision back.

Ben doesn’t know why but he huffs out a little laugh. Not that he finds his brother rapidly losing energy from a highly taxing ability draining him funny. “Good thing you didn’t try to jump with me then.”

Five chuckles a little as well before he pushes himself off the wall, still looking a little shaky on his feet.

“We’ll get some food in you soon. Fix you right up” Ben promises him as he sees the rest of their siblings appear through the windows.

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

Diego is the first to be helped down. Whether it’s because he wants to prove he is braver than Luther or he just wants to be the next to escape, Ben isn’t sure.

As per usual, Luther follows after Diego, and Allison follows after him. Luther extending his hand out to help her down when she comes into reach.

Klaus goes next, seeming to enjoy the tentacle wrapping securely around him. Resting his hands gently upon it and looking down at his feet kicking in the air on the way down, the brightest smile on his face.

Vanya goes last, Ben feeling the way she tenses slightly as the tentacle wraps around her, like she’s repulsed by it. Although it is completely understandable why she did, Ben can’t help but feel somewhat hurt by it all the same.

Though any thoughts of self-pity are quickly wiped away when she smiles at him gratefully and Klaus starts to bounce around the group, challenging them in a race to Griddy’s.

“Five will win and you know this” Diego says to him.

“He doesn’t have enough energy to jump” Ben tells him, looking back to Five walking behind him. He knows although he is probably correct in his assessment, Five would challenge him on it if he were listening. But he wasn’t, in the midst of a conversation with Vanya, “I wonder how many strings he had to pull to get the fire escape removed. That’s sure to be a lot of building code violations.”

Ben laughs to himself as they step out of the alleyway into the empty street. The smile widens on his face when Klaus takes off in a run down the street, only stopping when he realises no one is following him at speed. Impatiently he bounces on the balls of his feet in the distance, waiting for them to catch up.

Diego taking pity on him being alone, races up to him before becoming impatient and doing the same. Ben laughs again as he takes off running toward them. He doesn’t bother to look back at the academy or worry whether their father will find them all missing.

If they get caught, it will all be worth it.

#tua #The Umbrella Academy #umbrella academy fanfiction #luther hargreeves #diego hargreeves #Allison Hargreeves #klaus hargreeves #five hargreeves #the boy #ben hargreeves #the horror #vanya hargreeves #reginald hargreeves

44 notes · View notes

thoughtsdying · 3 years

Text

The procces of realising you’re aroace: a tale by me version 2

Realising you’re aroace is suddenly comprehending why your few friends (with one exception) have always turned out to be in the queer community at the end. Like. That fenomenum of “queer radar only you don’t realise it’s there and you end up gravitating together anyway?” yup- It happens too. Only most of the time you think you’re an allied cis-het weirdo who cares too much about something that doesn’t have anything to do with you, and who cares if you feel weird when other people assume you’re hetero (or that you have a orientation at all), you sure aren’t attracked to your same gender either. Nor are any kind of trans.

And then you discover asexuality in your late teens and it feels weirdly near you, but you think you’re trying to make it so you’re special, so you dismiss any ace feels as you being a late bloomer, and only take care of including it in discussions about queer issues, and then you feel strangely hurt when a professor dismisses it as “some self descriptor weird lonely japanese men in their 40′s created who only care for 2D” which. You don’t have to tell me all the problems in that sentence. Believe me, I know. And you can’t come with arguments except well if people feel like using it, then we should respect it, bc you don’t have the words to explain asexuality except that internet in english told you it was a thing and you still don’t know except in a nebulous way what even is aromanticism, so you didn’t bring that up in the discussion at all.

And a pair of years after that you start using demisexual bc it feels less scary and very reasonable except you’ve never felt attracted to anyone, how do you even tell it? And relationships scare you, and you still don’t have any idea of what is aromanticism except it scares you and you don’t want to contemplate a life being aro. You love romances after all

(except when you have to look the other way in any kind of profound kiss, bc it’s private people, which makes you feel wiedly homophobic when you’re watching a lgbtq+ media or your best friend with her girlfriend even if it’s the same with hetero, except then it’s just that sex is weird in film and kisses with tongue are still private people!)

and obviously you still don’t want to have sex with a girl (Except perhaps those emotional dreams of touching with a friend that aren’t sex but almlost and are very comfortable anyways it could be nice you’re sure but nice isn’t desire is it?) so even although guys make you nervous and any thought of doing anything romantic-sexual with one is a “yikes” you suppose you find some really pretty in a different way you do with woman and that must be ~attraction~.

And a friend tells you that a guy tried to sound her to see if he could date you and she told him you were ace and uninterested in any kind of relationship, and you go “why?” confused and a bit elated bc holy shit what a relief you won’t have to confront him, but also a bit of panic (that’s how i come across? it isn’t my imagination, im so obvious oh no) and she tells you, “well you are almost one and you don’t have any intention of dating anybody right now so i thought it best to cut any feels on his part right now”. And it gives you things to think about.

And another two years pass except this time you’ve started to educate yourself on aromanticism bc too many relatable posts on tumblr looking into the ace tag made you “holy shit yeah this makes more sense than just asexuality” but also you keep loving romance stories except now you’ve started to recognize you’re starved of friendship in all the ambits of your live and you’re also a young adult who still doesn’t want a relationship, what do i do? And maybe you’re not demi, you’re ace and you can think sex sounds a nice activity to do with intimate friends (aro aro aro) but not something you’re into, and you’re still ace, you’re not attracted to anybody not really. What a relief. (you still can’t try on the aro umbrella)

And you question yourself bc a fantastic guy has become your friend, and your minds vibe inmensely well, and you talk during quearentine, but he gives you some weird vibes sometimes, and makes you gifts which you ignore bc holy shit a best friend! And he has money and he’s lonely! I would also give gifts to my besties if I had money! And then he confesses to you on wassap, and you realise he has put you on a pedestal and has cofessed but already said himself he doesn’t want a relationship with you bc he would corrupt you or something and anyway, he’s not really in love with you he’s using you as a mental crutch to try to not be depressed, he knows that noe but he hates psycologists. Also, can i have some time apart from you?

So you tell him you feel flattered but that you see him as only a friend, and please can you not put yourself so below me? Search professional help. I’ll stay away as long as you need.

And you start feeling uneasy, but you think it’s only that he’s a weirdo and really you’ve dodged a bullet of course you wouldn’t want to go out with him, he’s not really the kind of pretty you like. Except if you’re ace what does it matter? Isn’t it that you feel pretty repulsed by trying a romantic relationship? Or are you just justifying your own aloofness and personality problems that make impossibly difficult to try a romance anyway. People don’t control who they feel romantic feels for anyway.

Except in the following months when you’ve finally reaturned to be friends you’re so relieved to not have that shadow above you and really wouldn’t it be amazing if everybody knew you didn’t want anything to do with them romantically? To be free to be friends and hug them, and walk arm in arm or go to lunch and cinema and still be just friends? To plan your future in a line along with those friends but not be really a committement as much as you just want to enjoy talking face to face with them for a bit longer.

So you go back to read about aromanticism and maybe you cry a little but mostly you’re pretty happy and scared about it. And you tell that friend, bc he’s your bestie right now and you feel him being bi and also being interested in you in the past would make him more likely to react well. It’s not personal it’s just the way I am. And then you start crying in the middle of a starbucks for 15 min. and you didn’t now you feel so much so intensely about being aroace, and how it had impacted you without knowing and how much you hate those expectations. And he hugs you and tells you “nobody has the right to tell you how to live. if you feel like you’re never gonna be in a relationship that’s your business and you’ll be happy anyway” and you cry harder. And then you both have a sincere conversation about sex as he has experimented it and how you feel it pretty strange and weird, but maybe you’d like to try it sometime. Just not a time near now. And if it’s never that’s pretty okey with you too.

So you go home feeling a bit embarrased but also pretty elated except a week later there’s another wassap message from him, saying he feels he still loves you, and that he understands intelectually your nearness with him is friendly but still feels romantic and it confuses me and it pains me and i would prefer to not be your friend anymore, sorry, men are shit and me the worst of them.

“Ok” I write back. I’m furious and hurt and I don’t want to see his liar face anymore. So fuck you, I think. “Thanks for telling me” And I block his number and I don’t talk to him when we met with out mutual friends, and when it’s necessary I talk as if he were a stranger. Kindly but impersonal. Isn’t that what you wanted? To lost a friend? So you’ve lost me forever.

And it became clear to me that I don’t think I’ll ever understand the stupidity of not wanting to see someone just because their lives don’t revolve around you the way you like, even though you’re friends and you can talk to them about anything at all anyway, and be there for help with the shitty parts of life. There are things I’ll never felt or do for another.

And I’m ok with that.

#aromantic #aromanticism #asexual #asexuality #personal #real experiences and problems

5 notes · View notes

aplaceforthesoul · 4 years

Text

Anonymous submitted:

Honestly this is just a rant to get this off my chest and out to someone without the risk of actually confronting my issues with the people in my life with this again. I don’t even know if this is the right type of place to put this out in the world. My mind is just so loud right now, I can’t focus. Y'all don’t even need to respond.

Anyway I’m currently 21. Over the last few months a lot of my past has been gnawing at me. When I was in middle school I got bullied and looking back at it, it messed me up more then I thought it did. I became really aggressive and closed off. I had and still have really bad trust issues. I ended up being a pretty abusive person when I was in highschool. My current friend group, most of which I’ve known since 7th or 8th grade really took the brunt of my actions. I was really fucked up in the head and I didn’t know how to express myself with anything other than anger or some form of aggression. I wasn’t necessarily emotionally abusive but I was physically to some degree. When one of them would get to close to me whether emotionally or physically I would lash out. Anytime they touched me I was repulsed and it took me years to feel comfortable with their touches. I’m still scared at times to put my hands on them or initiate contact because of what I did. I never beat any of them bloody and I’m not trying to justify my actions as I know what a scumbag of a human I was at the time. But I did punch them in the arm or shove them away from me. Or yell if they did something I didn’t like. At the time I didn’t realize how abusive I was. It was easier to bear fangs than to roll over for them. It wasn’t until I had finally talked with one of my oldest friends that she told me she would flinch when I would move quickly or if my anger was directed near her that I finally realized what a terrible person I was. That metaphorical knocked some sense into me. I became more aware of my actions after that. The older we get the more they stick with me. I’ve talked to them and tried my best to change and apologize for my actions. For some unfathomable reason they stay with me. Which I will always be grateful for. They say they forgive me and I’ve tried really hard to change but there are time that the guilt gets to be to much and I wish I didn’t care about them and that they would stop caring for me just leave, finally realized what a shit human I am. And I can be angry again because its safe and familiar to me not like what I feel now. Which is all consuming at times. I feel like there are times where I might’ve made them more susceptible to falling into abusive relationships because of my actions and it scares me more than I’d like to admit. I’ve tried to become a better person and they tell me I’ve changed and that I deserve to have them in my life but they’re such good people. I don’t want them to have to be constantly remind of any hurt I brought on them anytime they are around me. I both want them to leave my life but I’m also so starved for attention I didn’t know I needed until they made me into a better person that I’m so terrified of them leaving my side. It’s fucked up for me to be thinking that way when I know they would be better without me. Its just they’re the only ones I have. And I know I should try to justify my selfish desires but I’m so scared of opening myself to anyone new because I don’t want to hurt anyone else the way I’ve hurt the people I love in the past. But simultaneously I’m becoming more and more emotionally staved that I don’t know what to do. My friends say they’ve gotten over it and that I’m a good person now and that I deserve their love and affection but I don’t feel like its okay for me to accept any of it after what I’ve done. I’ve become such an emotionally stunted person and I don’t know what to do to fix myself.

of course we’ll respond 0: that’s why this is definitely the right type of place to write something like this, because we’re here to help. this is a blog specifically set up to listen and to support anyone -- it would be the very antithesis of this blog if we “chose” who to respond to. we care equally for everyone who needs help, we’re here because we wanna be :)

I think it’s brave to admit your past history and personality, most of all to yourself. it takes courage to put something like this into writing, because it makes it feel so much more real? you’re forced to think about things and to confront past behaviour, you leave behind the safe + comfy feeling of denial and face the harsh reality of the consequences of your actions. writing this down truly is a sign of growth, learning, and change.

honestly? this is a really complex world that we live in, we as humans are complex beings! I think because things can be so difficult to understand, people like to simplify things and make it out to be either you’re right or wrong, it’s black or white, there’s no middle ground or grey area. but that’s just not true, I don’t think there’s such a thing as a person who’s entirely bad, or a person who’s entirely good.

I don’t think you’re a fundamentally bad person -- you’ve done some terrible things, but that doesn’t mean that there’s no room for rehabilitation. you’ve clearly acknowledged your past and the effects it’s had on other people, you’ve apologised, you’ve taken responsibility for your actions, you’ve learnt that it’s not ok to do that, you’ve grown as a person. there’s not much more that you can do

I think it’s important to talk about the question of being good or bad, because it can help to resolve feelings of guilt around past behaviours and actions. also something to think about? everyone has free will! you made the voluntary choice to acknowledge your past and to learn from it and grow as a person and make better choices, your friends are choosing to still have you in their lives. it may sometimes be hard to have regular reminders around you of your past self and past actions? but if your friends are saying that they want you around, trust them on that :)

if you’re truly deeply concerned that you’re being selfish by continuing to have these people as a central group of friends? branch out a bit, take opportunities to meet some new people and make new friends. you don’t have to ditch your current friends or anything! but if you’re able to make some new friends then things are a little more balanced and the guilt isn’t so overwhelming. the fear of you doing the same to future friends is understandable, I get you I do. but it’s really unlikely to happen -- you’re now self-aware, you know what you did in the past wasn’t ok, and that’s the biggest indicator to show that you’re not likely to repeat past mistakes.

I can also understand why you feel emotionally starved, us human beings are social creatures!! and by nature we thrive on social interaction and social contact, we need some friends in our lives to survive and to feel loved and cared for. so start to branch out and meet new people, see how it goes? it’s really the only way for things to change. let me know how things go for you friend, all the best xxx

- tash

#advice #submission #friends #emotionally stunted #anger #aggression #regret

2 notes · View notes

side-effect-of-the-meds · 5 years

Note

Fem! Aftg question - cuddling positions??

Sorry this took me so long, but I had so many thought about this one!!!!! Thanks so much for your patience, love. The short answer is Erin likes to sit in Ania’s lap with Ania’s arms wrapped around her. The long answer the fic below. Thanks so much for you ask and I hope you enjoy!

Erin and Ania are both incredibly touch starved. Both of them finds a way to deal with this but their methods are drastically different. Once Kevin finds out who Ania is, he softens up considerably. They spent a lot more time together as kids than Neil did in canon. As a result, Kevin has always seen Ania as a little sister. They hesitate to show affection for one another in front of the others for fear that they’ll get the wrong idea. However, every night after practice, while Erin is outside smoking, Kevin will sit on the couch with Ania curled up in his arms.

Back at Evermore, Riko used to deprive Kevin of touch whenever he disobeyed or annoyed her. Even when they weren’t fighting, Riko wouldn’t touch him unless she wanted something from him. She’d drag a hand across the back of his neck when asking him to finish her work for her. She’d wrap her arms around his waist and bat her long lashes as she urged him to rough up the freshman for her amusement. She’d slide her hands up his shirt and watch him turn to putty before asking if she could cut him up. Just the thought of Riko’s blades on his skin pained him but he always said yes anyway. Kevin was covered in the deep scars of Riko’s ‘love’ but it hadn’t mattered to him so long as she kept touching him. Since his flight from the nest, Kevin has had no physical contact off the court and he feels like he’s losing his mind. When Ania admits that she sometimes wishes that someone would hold her, Kevin jumps at the chance. They spend half an hour on the couch every night, clinging onto each other like their lives depend on it. Their sanity definitely does.

Erin doesn’t get much physical contact due to the persona she’s built up. While she’s drugged sky high, Nicky will chance laying a hand on her shoulder. That simple gesture always floods her with so many emotions. Anger that he would touch her; repulsion at the thought of a man near her; horror at having a man’s hand on her; despair at knowing she’ll have to survive the rest of the week on that alone. There is only one other source of physical contact but the means by which Erin acquires it makes her feel a little sick.

When Aaron gets drunk, he lets loose. From her perch, Erin watches as her brother’s inhibitions fall away. She watches the smile creep across his face as he sways to the music. Over the pounding music, she can always pick out his laughter. Alcohol and cracker dust mix in together in his bloodstream and Erin gets a glimpse of what Aaron once was. Is this the real Aaron? she asks herself. Or is it just the one that existed before? Whatever the case may be, seeing Aaron like that makes her throat close up. Erin wants her brother by her side. She wants him to be happy, she really does, but not without her.

On the way home, she watches him in the rearview mirror. His laughter has subsided. Instead, he’s sitting sideways with his legs thrown over Nicky’s lap. A small sleepy smile decorates his face as he listens to Nicky ramble on about something or the other. For once, he looks at peace. When Aaron hugs Nicky goodnight before heading to his own room, Erin feels a knife twisting in her heart. Both boys are too inebriated for them to have even the slightest of chances at remembering the exchange the next morning. Even if Nicky does, he’ll wave it off as a dream. My cousins don’t love me, Erin can hear him chiding himself.

One night, about a year before Wymack could recruit them, Erin had woken from a nightmare and headed to the kitchen for some hot chocolate. She had found that it calmed her nerves better than anything else. The kitchen light was already on. In the overly bright glow of the tube lights, she saw her brother sitting on the counter.

“Eri!” he called when he saw her. The smile he turned on her could have lit up the entire Earth on its own. Realizing how loud he’d been he clamped his hands over his own mouth. They couldn’t cover his wide smile. “Eri,” he whispered, just as enthusiastically as the first time. Dropping his hands, he asked, “What are you doing up? Can’t sleep? I can’t sleep either. We have a test on Monday. Did you study? Wait, we can study together!” He clamped his hands over his mouth once more, aware that he might wake Nicky. A half-empty bottle of whiskey sat beside him. He giggled as a sleepy look settled over his face.

“You’ve had enough of this,” Erin said as she walked over to him. Grabbing the bottle, she felt him grab her wrist. She pulled away but he didn’t let go.

“You want to hear a secret?” he asked, looking very serious. Erin looked deep into her brother’s eyes. It was like staring into a mirror. Brushing her hair away from her ear, he leaned in close. “You’re really, really mean,” he said. Erin stepped back out of his reach as he threw his head back and laughed.

Is this what I’m like when I’m high?

“You’re so mean,” he continued. “And it makes everything so hard. You never want to talk to me. You never want to hang out with me. You don’t even let me have friends. You’re so mean, Eri and it makes everything so so hard,” he said. She turned her back on him. She didn’t need the musings of her drunk brother. “But I still love you, Eri.” Erin stopped in her tracks. Distantly, she was aware of Aaron hopping off the counter. She felt him brush past her and heard his footsteps on the stairs. Laying in bed, she stared up at the glow in the dark stars Nicky had plastered to the ceiling. She lost track of the hours she wasted listening to her brother’s words replay themselves over and over again in her head.

The next morning, when Erin went down to breakfast, she found her brother and cousin already at the table. As soon as Aaron caught sight of her, a scowl passed over his face. He chucked his bowl into the sink and slid past her, keeping a wide berth between the two of them. Erin starts to think she hallucinated last night’s encounter. She has to be sure. That night, once Nicky’s gone to bed, she leaves a new bottle of Aaron’s favorite whiskey on the counter in the kitchen.

Creeping down the stairs, she sees the kitchen light on once more. She finds Aaron swaying softly to the music wafting through the air from the radio.

“Dance with me,” he says when he sees her. Erin flinches when he grabs her hands but he doesn’t seem to notice. He spins her round and round in the little kitchen until Erin can no longer stand right. Aaron falls against her, drunk and dizzy. Every nerve in Erin’s body screams in protest. She shuts her eyes tight and tries to calm the racing of her heart. “Eri? Are you okay?” Aaron’s voice cuts through the blood roaring in her ears.

Pulling herself together, Erin sends him an impassive look. She watches as her brother deflates. He gives her a soft smile instead. It looks just like Nicky’s. If it’s Nicky’s smile, that makes it Luther and Tilda’s smile too. Erin hates that such a kind smile comes from such shitty people. Aaron carefully raises a hand and pets her head softly. “I’m sorry,” he whispers. “I won’t do it again.” He walks shakily out of the kitchen, using the wall for support. Before he can leave, he turns to look at her once more, “I still love you, Eri.”

When Erin is sure he’s gone she lets herself collapse on the kitchen floor. Erin has always felt things but she’s never felt anything like this. When Nicky smiles, when Aaron laughs, when they dance, a warm feeling fills her chest. My boys, is always her first thought. Nicky and Aaron are her family. They make her… happy. Erin has been alive seventeen years and, in all that time, she has never been happy. Until now.

When Aaron gets drunk, he lets loose. His mouth runs too fast for his mind to keep up. When Aaron gets drunk, he tells Erin all the things he wishes he could tell her. Erin has never been grateful for her eidetic memory but now she commits everything about her brother on those nights to her memory without any trouble. He tells her about all the things he loves and all the things he would do if he knew Erin wouldn’t stop him. She isn’t ready to let her brother go. She isn’t ready to let him have all the things he wants but she tries. She always makes sure she picks up his favorite chips and picks up a few clothes in navy blue because she knows it's his favorite color. She records all his favorite shows for him and turns the radio up when his favorite songs play. She knows he knows what she’s doing but he never does more than glare at her.

At night after Aaron’s downed his whiskey, Erin lets him brush the hair out of her face and cup her face in his hands. She lets him stare into her empty eyes and tell her they’re pretty. She tells him that they’re the same as his and lets herself almost smile when he tells her that’s why they’re so pretty. She lets him spin her around the kitchen as they sing softly along to the radio. When his eyes start to fall shut, she lets him lean on her. She lets him wrap his arms around her neck and carries him back to his room when he gets too tired to walk. She lets him tell her that she’s the meanest person that he’s ever met. She lets him hold her hand while he insists that he wouldn’t trade her for any other sister in the world.

Alone in her room, she stares up at the stars on her ceiling. Guilt is not something Erin believed in. In order to feel guilt, a person must regret what they’re done. They must feel shame. In the early hours of the morning, Erin lets herself feel shame for hiding behind the smokescreen of her drugs and exploiting alcohol's ability to get her Aaron to drop his guard.

This goes on until Ania shows up. On Halloween, Erin finds herself drifting towards the kitchen. The light is on and Aaron is just stumbling out of the kitchen.

“Eri,” he coos. He extends his arms out to her and loses his balance. She surges forward to catch him. She hears him laugh. “I knew you’d catch me,” he says. Erin just sighs and picks him up. As she turns to carry him back to bed, she sees Ania watching her from the couch. How could she have forgotten that Ania was staying with them? This was it. This was how everyone figured out that Erin was really just a soft bitch. She carries Aaron back to his bed and falls back into her own. Staring up at the ceiling she wonders who Ania will tell first.

The next morning Erin finds Ania sitting alone at the breakfast table. Erin grabbed the box of cereal and poured it into a bowl. After a moment’s consideration, she poured her coffee into the same bowl.

“That’s disgusting,” Ania says.

“Who did you tell?” Erin replies as she shovels a spoon full of stupidly sugary cereal into her mouth. It tastes horrible with the coffee but she isn’t going to lose face in front of the runaway. Ania frowns as if she doesn’t remember what she saw last night. A small part of Erin hopes that she did. That hope is crushed within seconds as Ania’s eyebrows shoot up.

“I didn’t tell anyone,” she replies. Erin holds her gaze as she shovels another spoonful of the shitty cereal into her mouth. “Consider this your... compensation. You let me bring the upperclassmen out to Eden’s so I’ll keep your secret. That’s fair, yeah?” Erin didn’t say anything. No one had ever tried to pay her back. Every person she’d ever met was focused on what they stood to gain from her. Men had take, take, taken from Erin all her life. There had been women too, not as many, but just as bad. Sitting three feet across from her sat the first person to ever look at Erin and try to give something back.

“Oh,” was all Erin could say. Raised voices argued outside. Erin could easily pick out Kevin’s voice in the middle of it all.

“Sometimes I feel bad for you,” Ania says as she stands. She places her bowl in the sink and heads for the patio door. “You got yourself stuck with two idiots that know how to pick fights but not finish them.” Ania gives her a wry smile as she slides the door open and slips outside to investigate the commotion outside.

Aaron and Nicky made Erin feel happy. Watching Ania leave, Erin realized that she made her feel things too. It wasn’t happiness that she felt. It was something more. Erin hated it immediately.

In the months following the upperclassmen’s trip to Eden’s a lot of things happened. From that moment on, Erin’s feelings only intensified. With them came the unbearable urge to touch Ania. Erin didn’t care if it was to rip her still-beating heart of out her chest or feel that same heart pounding in time with her own as Erin wound her fingers through Ania’s hair. She just wanted- needed to touch her. She got her wish just before she got carted off to Easthaven. Ania had snagged her wrists and placed Erin’s hand under her shirt. Beneath her fingers, Erin could feel the ridges and valleys of a thousand scars. There was nothing she wanted more than to trace every one of them with her eyes, her fingers, her lips. If Erin came back from Easthaven in one piece, she wondered if she’d get the chance to do so.

She did. Every night following the birthday incident, Ania dragged herself back from midnight practice up to the rooftop where Erin say waiting. Every night Erin traced those scars and ground her fingers into the soft skin on Ania’s hips. She pulled at her hair and scratched at her back. She bit up her thighs where no one would see and licked at her core. It wasn’t enough. Erin could never get enough of Ania. The only times, Erin seemed remotely close to satisfied was when Ania sat on the stool in their bathroom as Erin braided her hair. Feeling the heat of Ania’s back pressed against her stomach soothed Erin in a way nothing ever had.

After Binghamton, Erin realized what exactly it was that she wanted. She wanted Ania pressed as close to her as she could get her. She didn’t ever want to be apart from her again. How could she though? Every time someone pressed against her, Erin felt herself losing her grip on her sanity. Letting Ania run her hands through her hair was already unraveling her. Erin was torn. Either she’d lose her sanity beneath the weight of another person or she’d lose it from the lack of it.

Erin lasted a few more months before it got too much. Summer practice hadn’t yet started, so Wymack had insisted on taking Kevin to see a specialist. Riko’s death had broken something deep inside of him. She might have been a sorry excuse for a human being but Kevin had really loved her. The same could be said about Ania, Erin thought as she led her up to her room.

Today was worse than most days. Erin could almost feel the weight of someone over her. Sometimes, she thought she could catch the faint smell of alcohol but the house was empty save for her and Ania, neither of whom had been drinking. She sat Ania down on her bed and stared at her. Ania stared back, her expression colored with curiosity.

“Yes or no,” Erin asked.

“Yes,” Ania replied with a soft smile. Erin’s immediate response was to scowl. Ania’s smile only widened. Erin carefully climbed onto the bed, straddling her. She placed her hands on Ania’s shoulders and lowered herself into her lap. Ania’s eyes grew wide as she watched Erin settle in her lap.

“Hold me.” Arms wrapped around Erin’s waist and her stomach lurched. She could feel herself breathing a little too fast.

“Erin?” Ania asked as she loosened her grip on her waist.

“Don’t let go.” The arms slowly tightened around her middle and drew her close. Erin buried her face in the crook of Ania’s neck and inhaled shakily. Seconds, minutes, hours, days passed before Erin finally started to relax. This was it. This was what she had been so desperate for. The hard press of Ania’s body against hers without the weight of it bearing down on her was exactly what Erin needed to ground her. Some soft impulse took over Erin. She pressed soft open-mouthed kisses to every inch of exposed skin she could reach without pulling away from Ania. She basked in the giggles that slipped past Ania’s lips. Sunlight streamed through the window behind Ania, casting a soft halo around her. Erin always thought that Ania was beautiful but, in that moment, she looked ethereal. In that moment, Erin believed in God. Why? Because she was sitting right in Her lap.

13 notes · View notes

sevroilya · 5 years

Text

IVAN

My love Ivan, nobody seem to like you. Luckily I surely do!

Anyway a reader x Ivan (because I think no one would’ve read it if it was with Alina lol)

Prompt: Ivan’s girlfriend find out that he is touch starved while they are taking a bath. It’s a modern au!

I plan a writing more of this au so maybe I will create an OC to go with him because I don’t like using y:n all the time.

Babochka: little butterfly

Kukolka: little doll

« I can’t believe I’m doing this shit »He said inclining his head to his right. Ivan didn’t seem to be able to stay still for more than fifty seconds.

« I told you we’re getting money for this babe. Besides using this particular shampoo won't hurt you."

Living next to a cosmetic factory had its perks, for example making a little money by testing new products. It really pleased (Y/N), it was easy money, and free hygiene products, but it wasn’t the same with Ivan, he only agreed to do this because of the money. So here they were, in the bathtub filled of hot water, him sitting between her legs so she could shampoo his scalp.

"FUCK! you put some in my eyes!" He suddenly yelled.

"Maybe if you weren't moving that much this kind of things won’t be happening !" (Y/N) replied while she dried her fingers with the closest towel she could find. Then she put her fingers on his eyes so she could take the soap off.

"Thanks." He mumbled. " So… When will we get to try the massage thing » He quietly murmured.

" Humm, After i'm finish with your hair, you will get to try the massage thing if it’s how you like to call it… But for your information it is actually called a gommage » She responded really surprised he actually felt motivated to try one of the products. Especially one that involved having someone touching him for more than three seconds. She didn’t know why, and never dared to ask but Ivan seemed to be repulsed by human touch. She somehow was the only one he allowed to have physical contact with.

"As long as it feels good."he whispered under his breath still with his back facing her.

After that (Y/N) rinsed his hair and took the gommage gel in her hands."It's says that it is made of green lime and sea salt. » Ivan turned his head a little as she quickly put the bottle near her nose so she could smell it, then after sniffing it a few times which Ivan swore she looked like she could get high on it; She approached it to his nose so he could do the same. It didn’t get him high, but; he wondered if, it would eventually work if he smelled it on her skin. He though maybe, no, not maybe, surely the mixture of the gel and her natural scent would send him to heaven.

«I guess we'll see how it turns out." She said while opening it.

"WAIT! I-I wanna put it on you." He cut her while he turned around to face her completely.

« Oh, you don't have to baby, I can do it myself you know, I know you’re not very comfortable with doing stuffs like that. »

« What, you think I can’t do massages to my girl?.» He smirked showing his dimples.

« No, i just… well with the past months being together I came to realize that basic humans stuffs aren’t really your things, I mean you basically hate when people touch you and I suppose you don’t like to touch them either. » (Y/N) spoke and realized she had never felt this awkward before, but also that it was surely not a great moment to reveal her discoveries. As the words came out of her mouth she felts smaller and smaller compared to him, and really got scared he would get mad that she pointed something this personal so bluntly.

« Okay, Woa, I was only humoring you babochka, but for the touch thing… It’s not that I hate it, it’s just that I’ve never- I’ve never had someone close enough to hug me or even hold hands, to be honest it’s just that I don’t understand? Why it hurts me when you touch me sometimes but also why does my skin burns for hours when you don’t? Is it because I was used to it since I was a child? My mother died when I was young, so living with my father and brothers wasn’t- humm- it wasn’t… » Ivan seemed lost for words when it was to put one on his emotions. He could be strong, brave, confident but even him could have doubts and issues.

« Hum, so you are telling me you’re touch starved but you didn’t tell me because you though it was normal for you since you were raised without enough affections? »

Ivan looked pissed at that comment, which was confusing since (Y/N) literally only told the truth. « What? What you said means exactly what I just told you Ivan, don’t take it badly but you said it first not me. » he let out a frustrated breath and responded softly.

« It’s just the way you said it made it look like I was too stupid to realize something is wrong with me. » Ivan closed his eyes and tried to get up, but (Y/N) stopped him by pulling on both of his biceps.

« I just wish you talked to me about this sooner, but now that I know, I can try to help you, I read some articles on the internet about this and if it is really how you feel I think we should start to work on it. » She smiles softly and then proceeded. « Tell me more please. »

He shifted in the bath tub while his eyes looked around. He carefully took some time to think about how he could explain what he was feeling regularly.

« Okay, well I fucking can’t physically stand people touching me, and if I don’t expect it first I immediately feel distressed and I want to murder that person, But on the other hand I often get this feeling where I want to lay in bed and wrap my arms around you and we stay like this for the following ten years. And so since I don’t really know how to handle it I just take a cold shower till my skin doesn’t burn anymore. »

« You take cold shower for that? » She raised her eyebrows clearly surprised and frustrated she didn’t realized it was a big issue sooner.

« I… Yes, But it’s not a big deal you know, I can’t ask you to put up with that, like force you to come and just touch me so I found an alternative. »

« Ivan i’m happy to announce you that you wont have to use your alternative anymore because I am more than glad to help you. So don’t you dare hide what you feel from me okay? » (Y/N) smiled while cupping his face with her small hands.

« Okay Kukolka. » He smiled back, and it was on of his very rare genuine smile, the ones he saved for her.

« From what I remember I was promised a massage. » (Y/N) joked, Ivan rolled his eyes but took the gommage bottle in his hands.

« Don’t worry I will give you a massage back! It will be the first step of your battle against touch starvation » she said while turning around so he could rub her back.

At first the feeling of the frosty product created shivers on her whole body but then Ivan gently spread it everywhere. His hands doing the best thing she ever felt, she actually had trouble believing her boyfriend, her Ivan could be this gentle. She threw her head back thanks to pleasing movement he was working on her back, he then rubbed her shoulders and after some time, he pulled her against him so he could massage her front, starting with her abdomen and last but not least he took a long time on her nipples. Ivan was breathing extremely heavily, and (Y/N) could feel her whole body rock due to his lungs moving.

"Does it feel good" he suddenly asked still using his hands like a god. His breath hit her neck making her roll her eyes for the hundred time.

"Hum." Is all she could say.

"Answer me y/n » He commanded firmly

"Yes it reaaally does Ivan." She moaned. Knowing him, she could imagine the smirk on his face.

« Good »

#ivan #ivan grisha #grisha #grishaverse #shadow and bone #ruin and rising #nikolai lantsov #alina starkov #aleksander morosova #the darkling #imagine #siege amd storm #one shot #reader #ivan x reader #ivan x oc #touch starved

16 notes · View notes

thefanficmonster · 3 years

Text

Never Satisfied [Chapter 4]

Corpse Husband x Original Female Character

Warnings: Language

A collaboration between Vy & Ashens 🖤

“there’ll be a next time...right?“

Corpse and Cora have found a nice secluded picnic table outside the restaurant, out in the sun rays’ path enough for the warmth of the day to be caressing their skin while simultaneously being a safe distance away from the other people enjoying their lunch. Their meal has just arrived, bringing a large grin to Cora’s face.

“So?” She asks as she chews the bite she took without waiting even thirty seconds. Her feet are on the bench, legs crossed, elbows rested on her knees as she chomps down, happily perched in front of him.

Corpse is enraptured by her. He’s staring a little, desperately trying to keep it subtle, hands still holding the small bag of food as he peers at her, a hood over his dark curls. Even in this quiet little part of town, he still doesn’t feel safe showing his whole face - no mask, no eyepatch, no privacy and sense of security. But as his eyes take in his lunch partner, her calm aura and leisure attitude, he can’t help but admit that his heart quickens a little. The girl moves with the grace of someone not afraid to kick ass and he is simply awestruck by her beauty and outward powerful aura. He’s never before been so captivated by a person - someone so different and so similar to him simultaneously.

Swallowing nervously, he reminds himself that she has taken on the role of his checkpoint, something like a friend, a hand to hold if he starts feeling anxious. Even if it’s just for today, he appreciates it wholeheartedly. It’s more than he’s ever been offered by others. That type of comfort is something he hasn’t felt in a long time. Surprising himself when his hand reaches out to touch her free one, he’s surprised yet again when he finds the touch so familiar and welcoming, so natural. Despite it being just a brief movement, his knuckles softly brushing against her wrist before withdrawing and returning his focus to his meal, it is so meaningful and soothing, he’s afraid he might get used to it. Addicted to it.

Half expecting a comment or a look, he is taken aback when she doesn’t give any sort of reaction. No movement, no expression change, just curiously watching him while she eats, waiting for his response to her previous dubious question.

“So?” He rumbles softly, fishing out his lunch from the confines of the little paper bag. He isn’t sure what type of answer he should be expecting but he’s sure he won’t be disappointed regardless.

“Tell me about yourself! You’re not all rumbles, fear and BONES, right? You’ve gotta have a personality under that black hoodie.” She says enthusiastically, her eyes glimmering as though she’ll dig the answers out of him with her gaze alone. He’s not sure whether he’d prefer that or not. He doesn’t like talking about himself but he has an even stronger distaste for the idea of her seeing some information he’d rather keep hidden. Good thing she doesn’t seem to be capable of telepathy, but even that wouldn’t be too odd for her.

His cheeks flush faintly and he looks down for a moment to take the first bite of his food, buying himself some time to think and formulate a proper sentence. He racks his brain, looking for what would be the most vague yet satisfactory answer.

What am I? I mean, all she stated is true, I definitely am all that...but I have a hard time coming up with what else I am? What else makes me me? Youtube? Anxiety? Suicidal ideations hidden underneath liquor?

“I um...dropped out of school at, like, thirteen.” He finally speaks, mumbling around the small bite he worked on swallowing.

Cora’s eyes widen and her brows shoot up. Now he is nervous, his anxiety slowly starting to creep in as he’s worrying if he has said something wrong. Or something that she could be disgusted by.

Who would want to talk to some grown ass man who couldn’t even make it to highschool? How fucking sad is that? She has all right to judge me for it.

However, unlike everybody else in his life who’s given him a frown of pity while internally thinking of how absolutely fucked up he had to be to drop out so young, Cora spared him from the pitiful glance he has grown to hate so much. Instead, he sees something alike amazement on her face as she sips her drink before saying:

“Damn dude, that’s intense. I mean, it sucks cause I can’t imagine you had a normal childhood if you’re bailing from school that young but, nowadays, who among us actually had a real childhood? Very few, I’d say.” She grins, putting down the soda can, her eyes leaving his for only the briefest of moments instead of the familiar awkward eye-contact avoidance he’d face when this topic would be nudged during a conversation. Still, the relief and skepticism in Corpse can never end their war so easily - there’s still that shred of doubt that she’s just good at hiding her pity or judgement. Nevertheless, she continues, “You’re doing well for yourself, you’re in an ok place right now, right? Isn’t that what matters?.” She concludes, touching his fingers as a form of yet another subtle reassurance.

He looks down and finds himself ever so carefully curling one of his fingers around hers, just briefly before he draws back fearfully. “Yeah...guess having an apartment in a shitty part of town, and a car that seems to attract criminals could be considered ‘doing okay’.” He smiles faintly under his hood and she laughs, that bubbly little noise that he is slowly realizing he wants to hear more of.

“You got a car, that’s more than I have.” Cora pokes her tongue out with a little growl before leaning down to take another bite of her lunch. “So, you like music and aren’t a narc. What else you got up your sleeve?”

Corpse smiles a bit and takes a sip of his drink before clearing his throat. “Yeah, I like video games too.”

That seems innocent enough, right? Everyone likes video games...or people tend to be okay with them, at least. Video games are fun.

Another bright, sun-like smile. “Yeah? Well in that case I’ll have to kick your ass in Mario Kart some time.” She threatens playfully.

So she might want to hang out, he thinks to himself, the thought causing his heart to do a little flip and he smiles an almost shy and timid smirk. “Challenge accepted.”

“What do you do for work?”

That question catches him off-guard, causing his eyes to widen a bit. He doesn’t know if it would be better to lie or just tell the truth. He narrates stories on the internet and makes and puts out music people have constantly been telling him wouldn’t be enjoyed. He doesn’t see how that would leave a bad taste in her mouth exactly but because of his inability to stop himself from overthinking he doesn’t want to run the risk of repulsing her. Then again, he doesn’t want to lie either, he’s been so honest with her thus far, why would he derail now and because of such a simple question. That’s why he chooses to answer truthfully but keep his answer relatively vague: “I do online work and make music I haven’t released yet. I honestly dunno if I ever will.” That last part felt like a harsh hit of reality coming on too suddenly, forcing him to look away from her to gather his composure and put it back together.

“I bet it’s good. You’ll have to let me hear it when you get something done. I’ve got a clearly refined taste in music, but I bet you already figured that out.” She exaggerates a wink, reaching over to wiggle the straw in her drink.

Feeling a bit less tense now, he clears his throat and picks up the conversation once again. “What about you? You keep asking me all these questions, but all I know about you is that you’re a klepto with no car.”

That signature bright and bubbly laughter leaves Cora’s chest, sending Corpse a millisecond away from swooning over her completely. “I’m actually a starving artist. I’m a pet photographer and I'm going back to school for advertising graphic design. When I’m not off goofing around with people getting their dogs birthday documented, I’m working at ye good ol’ Starbucks, serving all the...” Her voice lifts to a higher pitch and is now coming more from the back of her throat as she takes on the most preppy tone she could muster, “Beckys their venti mocha caramel frappuccino with TWO extra pumps of caramel, but with SOY because they’re all on a diet. Funny how that works, no? All those women with the exact same order and exact same attributes - I almost laugh whenever one of them walks in. You can smell them from a block away.”

Corpse chokes out a laugh as he covers his mouth, hiding his half chewed bite from view. He definitely wasn’t expecting that. Then again, he can’t help but acknowledge the warmth that has spread across his cheeks at how she giggles along with him. “And to be fair,” Cora quickly interrupts herself, “I am not a klepto, I just really liked the belt I found and thought forty five dollars was a rip off.” She smirks, finding herself absentmindedly looping her pinky with his. Corpse doesn’t look down, doesn’t comment, doesn’t want her to know he noticed, because maybe she’d put an end to their so small yet so meaningful contact. Instead, he smiles a little and swallows the last bite of his lunch, his heart beating rapidly in his chest and he briefly entertains the idea that he maybe wasn’t the only one awestruck.

Anyhow, that thought gets pushed down real quick when he considers how absolutely out of his league she is, and how...well, how he’s in absolutely no league whatsoever. The world has done plenty to prove that to him real fast. Corpse sees himself as a nobody; he believes he doesn’t matter and everybody likes to remind him of it. But, as Cora’s pinky curls a little and one of her thumbs brushes against the arch of his wrist, all that bitter venom in his cold soul starts to slowly ease up, loosening its typically firm hold of his mind. Maybe, just maybe, one day, he would matter to someone. Someday.

@fockingwhore @vixenl @annshit @wineandionysus @wiseflamingoqueen

38 notes · View notes

plotbunnie · 6 years

Text

Mm so there’s a lot of stuff under the cut I just feel like I can’t express directly? Please don’t feel obligated to read the mess going on in my head, I just need to put it somewhere.

So this is just a big,,, massive dump of things I sometimes wish I could tell people but either it is socially unacceptable to discuss or I simply feel too guilty to do so, or feel as if I will not be understood. It’s really a big mess, so this is kind of a second ‘hey, turn back now!’ warning if that’s the sort of thing you’re not about. This is a queued post, also, because it makes me feel a little less like I’m begging for attention that way, and knowing that will probably reduce the appearance of urgency it gives by being all big and emotional.

I’ve noticed lately that I’ve been venting, more. Which is natural, I’m in school, I’m stressed, yadda yadda. But like- the things I vent about are never what really upsets me? they’re usually related but not- the thing and I’ve been examining myself to try and figure out why, and it boils down to the fact that what I end up venting about is genuinely insignificant, or at least mostly so, especially compared to whatever’s actually bothering me.

I’m also always trying to- dismiss and explain away everything that upsets me. “Oh, it’s just hormones”, “Oh, it’s just school stress making me crazy, you know”, “I’m just being oversensitive rn, it’ll pass”.

But like whoops, no, it’s not passing cause the actual root issues are a lot deeper than “I feel bad bc my teacher laughed in my face when I asked a question he didn’t like”.

And here’s the thing- I can tell myself how irrational the feelings I keep getting are all I want and it will not make them go away? In fact it’s just been forcing me to internalize them and feel shitty for feeling them at all.

So I guess here’s the part where I actually say what I’ve really been feeling, so I can look at it, and stare at it, and figure out what the hell I can actually do about it. Cause in some cases the solution seems so easy- and then it’s fucking not, and I just feel worse for failing at it.

I feel insignificant, invisible, probably some other word that starts with an ‘in’. Like I no longer exist the moment I’m outside of someone’s immediate vicinity, and only re-enter their memory bank once I’m in front of them or on their screen again. Like my whole existence is just floating in the void and sometimes a comet passes by or whatever and acknowledges me, and I’m just screaming for that acknowledgement and have no way of making it permanent. A lot of this is probably because of the fact that, thanks to my roommates & their situation, all but maybe four or five of the 20 people I met and started interacting with semi-regularly last semester no longer even acknowledge I exist- literally their expressions glaze over and they move past me, even when I’ve directly addressed them ( though I stopped doing that right quick, of course ). I’ve never, in my whole life of being picked on and pushed away from people, felt so small or alone as I do now. And I don’t know how to change that. I keep telling myself there is a way to change that, and I will find it, and all sorts of other shit a therapist would probably say, but ultimately, even if I am not this invisible being, I don’t know how to make myself stop feeling like one. I mean it’d be nice if I could ask people to remind me of that, but wow I guess that leads to the second problem?

I hate asking for things. heck, I hate receiving things without asking for them. A friend told me they were giving me something they’d gotten with digital currency they’ve amassed to a point it is no object and I still almost had a panic attack and immediately had to work out how I could even the score and pay them back. This friend reasoned that they were paying me back, but on a numbers level their gift still sort of dwarfed what I did? And so it still incited genuine fear until I could find a way to repay it back. And it’s not that I don’t want to be given things? Because then if the exchange of things ( be they compliments, edits, art scribbles, inconsequential digital currency gifts, anything because yeah, literally all of those result in the same anxiety- though some I’m better at combating the resulting anxiety than others ), then I start getting that unfortunate human response that makes me sad because I’m not getting things, when it is a commonly accepted concept that when you like someone you give them stuff ( again, not necessarily monetary or physical- applying to compliments and emotional support and all that junk as well ), and to NOT receive those things at all just feeds back into my first problem?? And it’s this awful vicious cycle. And worse than being given things out of the blue ( because the resulting warm fuzzies do generally balance out the panic and make it well worth it ) is asking for something- whether it is something I want, something I need- even suggesting something totally inconsequential that can be given to me to help someone else combat their anxiety over being given something. But kind of especially asking for things I need? Asking for help, asking for emotional support, asking for an ear to speak to- it’s why I’m typing up this long-ass post I all but begged people NOT to read despite kind of?? really wanting someone to understand what I am experiencing ( because is it real if people don’t acknowledge it or know about it or understand it? ), rather than just- talking to someone. I don’t want to burden anyone with my neediness? I don’t feel I have the right, I don’t feel that I’m a Level 7 Friend who can request emotional support, and I feel like I leveled wrong on my lower levels so I can literally never reach Level 7. Nevermind that people just plain don’t want to hear about this sort of thing because it makes people uncomfortable and that is a fact not many people are willing to acknowledge? Like in my experience ( and I am CERTAIN this is not always true, but for me it has been, or feels like it has been ) no matter how close with someone you are, chances are they don’t want to hear about your deep shit. No matter how much they say ‘never feel bad for asking for help or wanting to talk’ they are also probably internally praying you ask someone else. And that is fine? Like they gotta do they own thing and I will never begrudge them that ever ever ever because Wow Dude I Get It Big Time, but it really is a struggle when there is no one who IS willing to listen?

And sure, I could see a therapist, I did for a bit last semester and I keep telling myself to find a new one this semester since the previous one left, but honestly that one just allowed me to feel like I was trying because that’s what you do when you’ve got emotional turbulence, you see a therapist- and that’s... literally the only benefit seeing one brought me. Because they seem to be more focused on “well here is a list of ways you have already tried to potentially combat this small par of your problems without actually addressing the source”, along with “do you REALLY have this thing you were told you have because you don’t have any of these stereotypical and often inaccurate symptoms listed in this short passage of a book that is my only frame of reference for it”. ( yeah, that last one is really specific but like- I was trying to talk??? about how betrayed I felt that my freaking mother was told by professionals I’m autistic NOT ONLY when I was a child, but again when I was a teenager seeing a therapist, and then told my EX BOYFRIEND before she finally told me- casually and in passing. And instead of focusing on the emotional issue I wanted to address, she focused on whether or not it was an ‘accurate diagnosis’ ).

Like I have all these problems and they affect me and how I function, but I didn’t learn what they were or how to address them or in some cases even that I had them until very recently, and I just want to acknowledge them, but if I try I’m just asking for attention or making excuses and I just don’t know what I can do about that but man that is almost a footnote in all this ugh.

And I’m sure this factors in somewhere but heck if I know where but like touch is something humans tend to need and wow I’m very touch-starved to the point I am now touch-repulsed and while the part of me that needs support is downright begging for someone to fucking hug me for like 3 hours is constantly battling the instinct to never let anyone near me ever because what if I’m too clinging what if it hurts what if it turns out it doesn’t help shit what if they take advantage of me what if they get weirded out what if what if what if

And then the final thing- and god I know this is choppy by now and I’m honestly scared of anyone who bothered to read this far cause heck, guess you know how to destroy me now, and also why- is that I am starting to wonder if there is a point to anything I do? Like obviously there is but-- I am a creature that thrives on acknowledgement more than most it feels like and I think that I am suffering a lack of just that has been made a little clear by now so I’m at that point where like- I just want someone to look at my work, really look at it and examine it and explore it and give me deep feedback and talk with me about it but nobody wants to fucking do that, as exemplified in almost all the above points and like if it’s not worth looking at in depth is it really worth looking at, at all?

Am I really worth looking at, at all?

#ooc #sky speaks #vent #negative #negative tw #depression tw #invasive thoughts tw #?#not actually sure that one belongs there but I think some of these classify as invasive thoughts #like i'm fine I'm not going to harm myself we good there I'm just- a lil lost and this is me tryna find a fucking map

4 notes · View notes

shikkearu · 6 years

Text

Irreplaceable Part 16: Christmas Eve

WattPad AO3

The forest was beautiful. The pine trees were twisted doing their best to survive on the dry bed rock. On wetter places there was birches and willows fighting for light. The berry shrubs were blooming. And the light was warm and shadows chilling. Perona walked before him and stopped.

- "This is the place." She hummed. - "It's beautiful. Like a place from a fantasy novel."

He grew up in the city so he had spent very little time in a wild forest like this. Even the summer house only had fields and the sea shore around it before the small town close by.

- "Yes, you wouldn't think you'd get attacked by a bear here." She chuckled. - "Ah, but it didn't."

She had been showing him around her home town. It was late spring and she felt the dying town would be at it's best. She had told him about a time she had met with a bear in the forest and he insisted on seeing that place too.

- "I was coming from that direction. I had decided on taking a short cut through this forest to get to Moria. It's not smart when you're five, but I didn't want to get caught on the town streets either."

He looked around and wondered how she could navigate such thick forest so easily. Though he had a bad sense of direction himself, so maybe he shouldn't.

- "And then I saw it. It stood right there eating some berries. It looked at me and I was terrified. I took the biggest stick I could get my hands on and shouted as loud as I could while waving the stick. It was so scared it kept running as far as I could see. That's why I had that bear phase."

He chuckled and was still captivated by the beauty around him. How could anything bad happen in such a place? Perona walked to a pine tree near them and leaned against it. She had that sly smirk he found irresistible. So he walked over to her and took hold on one of the branches. He leaned down slightly and looked her in the eyes.

- "You look like you have something in mind, my lady." The setting was catching onto him. He felt like a knight from a fairy tale. On the other hand Perona made him feel like that often. She is his princess from a ghost town. - "I want you to kiss me." She smirked and pushed her chest a bit forward while lowering her chin. As a movement it was childlike and innocent, but her eyes and smirk told a different story. Seemed like she had more in mind than just a simple kiss. - "I do not think I could be so bold, my lady." He leaned a bit closer to her. - "A little boldness is good every once in a while." She fidgeted her hips slightly. - "The lord will have my head." He grinned. Moria would kill him if he got even a whiff of what they were about to do. - "The lord does not need to know."

And she kissed him.

----

Perona had paused cutting the ingredients for rosolli. She gazed at the sun setting towards the forest in the distance. She couldn't understand why she had that memory out of all the possible ones of the forest. Finding a deer carcass with Moria while picking mushroom, playing hide and seek with Absa and the other kids. Anything other than them having sex in the woods. But she knew very well why she had that one.

She missed his touch the most. Holding hands, kissing, cuddling, the love making! She missed all of it so badly and it hurt to be never touched by him ever again. When Mihawk had asked if she was always so clingy, she had lied. She normally wasn't that clingy, but she was starving to touch, to be touched. To feel something real and not that imaginary weight behind her back when she slept. She had gotten startled in the night so many times to feel something weight the bed down and see no one there. Holding Zoro didn't help because it felt so different and wasn't what she missed. Mihawk just had the bad luck of being so close by to her. Touching him and his careful touches back helped her, even more so after he had stopped flinching and fighting back. She did feel sorry for him, but she needed it more. Maybe he would understand if she told him why she was like that, but she was also scared of how he would react. She wouldn't like the idea of being a substitute for another person, no matter how close that person had been for her.

Perona shook her ill advised thoughts away as Mihawk brought the ingredients for the olivier salad and sat opposite of her. All of the casseroles had been put into the oven and Moria had gone to the dining hall to organize setting the table. It had been a bit of a fight between the two at how the casseroles should be made, but in the end Mihawk had bend.

- "I didn't think you would follow Morias recipes."

He looked at her slightly sad clearly hesitating if he should answer her with the truth, but he realized that there was no use in hiding it.

- "Moria has old family recipes, I don't." - "Didn't you celebrate Christmas?" - "We did, but my father wasn't much of a cook so it was bought from stores. With son I kept trying out different ones to find one to our liking." - "We'll I'm sure you'll like what we did. He did like them too."

He sighed resigned.

- "Are you still going to cut more carrot or can I have the rest."

Perona had clearly cut more than she needed so she handed him part of what she had cut with the rest of the carrots. Just then a face, Perona knew all too well, popped from the out door.

- "Absa!"

She rose up and gave him a huge hug. They hadn't seen much after the funeral, he had a lot going on for him.

- "Thought I would say hi since I'm in town. How are you?" - "Much better now. Have you found yourself a bride yet?" - "Ah, I have not." - "Maybe one day you'll say yes to Lola." - "Never." He shook repulsed. - "And that is your problem my friend. You're too vain."

Absalom had been one of the town kids growing up. Perona thought of him a brother and he felt the same way of her though he would jokingly ask her to marry him.

- "Hey, how about you marry me instead?" He chuckled, but then shivers ran down his spine. Mihawk had a death glare on him though his face was the same as usual. At this point he had finished his salad and was finishing up Peronas work. - "Who is this?" - "Dracule Mihawk, my father-in-law." - "Hello, I'm Absalom... I was only joking." - "It's his signature thing."

Mihawk snorted and went back to his work. Perona patted Absaloms arms and chuckled. - "What's this? Have you started working out?" - "I saw some lions in the wild and it has inspired me a great deal to work on my body. Hey, there's this one thing I've been meaning to call you about." - "Hmm?" - "There's this guy who's been asking about you. I think he was on that mixer with your husband. Some Tra- tra-" he tried remembering the name. - "Trafalgar Law." - "Yeah that guy. Has he contacted?" - "We've seen a couple of times." - "Just be careful. Somethings off about that guy." - "Don't worry. Go talk to Moria now. He's setting up the dining room. He'll be so amazed to see you."

She patted his shoulder as he left. Perona sat back to the table only to realize Mihawk had taken her work. Morias squeals of joy could be heard coming from the other room.

- "Should I be worried?" Mihawk asked of her. He had a weird feeling in his gut. - "About what exactly?" - "This Trafalgar Law." - "Of course not." She lied with a grin. She didn't want him to worry over her even more. She could handle this. - "Are you sure?" - "Are you perhaps... being jealous?" she sneered, but he looked cold. - "Jealous? On what basis does caring about your well being count as being jealous"

She didn't want to continue the conversation.

- "Of course. You're right. Don't worry." - "How can I not when I hear talk like that."

But somehow it also sparked her curiosity.

- "Does it make you uncomfortable? Me getting attention from the opposite sex?" She had a sly smile. She didn't mean that she would take the opportunity if given. Just wanted to tease him. But Mihawk looked angry. He finished the rosolli and stood up grabbing both of the salads. While walking away he bluntly stated:

- "Of course it does. I'm the father of your dead husband."

His words cut deep. It had been thoughtless of her. She stayed put and quietly started sobbing. Mihawk placed the salads on the dining table now with beautiful silver and decorations. Moria glanced at him quickly and Mihawk nodded to him before he rushed into their room. Zoro was napping, but Mihawk lifted him gently into his arms and sat against the wall. Zoro looked at him with big round eyes. Why did Pappa look so sad? He tried tapping Mihawks face to make him feel better.

- "Pappa?" he whispered while gently touching him. - "Pappas been bad. Really bad," he whispered back and pressed him into a hug.

Zoro grabbed hold of him and staid silent. Pappa was hurt and it felt unbearable. So in the end he started to weep. Mihawk tried shushing him, but his voice was so broken, it had no effect.

- "You'd think it gets easier with age, but it really doesn't."

Moria stood by the door and looked at the two. Zoro nudged a bit to his direction. Between his sobs he cried for help.

- "Buu! Pappa owie." - "I know, Zoro, but you can't put a pandaid on this." Moria sat down next to Mihawk and petted Zoros head. Surely he could change his form, how else could he fit into such small room. Mihawk didn't say anything nor did he look at him. - "Arguments, I mean." Still nothing from Mihawk. - "From what I've heard, the way you handle confrontation is wrong. You refuse to listen and let your emotions take over. When you feel bad, ask for a time-out. When the anger has blown away then talk things through. Running and hiding is not healthy nor is screaming at each other." - "Did Perona tell you?" - "No, but it was clear that you had a fight. She's told me this is something you do when you get uncomfortable." - "It was a silly taunt and I fell for it." He didn't understand why. Something inside him had started to boil from the moment he had seen her so friendly with Absalom. - "Don't downplay your own feelings. It's clear that something she said hurt you. As long as you communicate with calm manner it should be alright."

But how could he explain to Perona something he didn't understand himself.

----

Christmas dinner was awkward.

Mihawk and Perona didn't really know what to say to each other and with strangers around them it was impossible to even think about something like an argument. She was feeling bad about what she had said, but was also angry. Mihawk didn't have a say in her relationships, never did and never will.

He didn't really understand himself anymore. It wouldn't have bothered him so earlier, but now it was different. Was it because Perona might actually go along with the flirt and he felt it was too soon for her to be thinking about a new relationship? He wanted her to be happy, but if it was with a new man, it somehow stung his heart. It wasn't just for his son, but also for himself. It was a weird sort of jealousy and he couldn't understand it.

So they both just ignored each other.

After Christmas-sauna it was time for the presents. Zoro was the only child of the group so everyone was exited to see his reactions. And he was beaming. He squealed and toddled and kept mixing up all the words he had learned and made up. He went from person to person to show his packages. He didn't quite get that he was supposed to open them until Moria showed him an example by opening a gift he had gotten. Zoro decided to sit against Mihawks legs to open his presents. His hands were clumsy and he had trouble tearing into the paper so Perona sat next to him on the floor and helped him with the task. When he opened the priest Care-Kuma, he got startled and threw the package away. Everyone laughed except Perona. Mihawk chuckled at her disappointed face. Zoro was slightly relieved to get the pink Care-Kuma. He got some clothes and few other toys. While he played with his toys and the wrappings everyone opened their presents.

Mihawk looked at the scarf and then at Perona.

- "Thank you." - "What for?" She didn't even look at him. He could see that she was still grumpy. - "For noticing things about me." He chuckled lightly. "Sometimes it feels like you can read my mind." - "You're just really bad at hiding your thoughts." She turned still looking sour. "Put it on."

He did so and after looking Perona nodded satisfied. She continued opening her presents. Mostly chocolate and other treats. She was saving a big and heavy package for the last. She knew it was from Mihawk, but she didn't know what it could be. When she opened the last small gift she started to have a hunch. A set of different color threads clearly meant for a sewing machine. Quickly she tore the paper revealing the big package to be what she had wanted for years, a sewing machine. She looked at Mihawk amazed. How on earth could he have known? Her amazement faded because she saw the sadness in his eyes.

- "He told me about you wanting one. He lamented the fact that he couldn't afford the perfect one for you. I offered to help, but he insisted on getting it by himself. Well I got it for you in the end."

Mihawk didn't continue and he didn't have to. Perona knew very well what was not said:

"Because now he can't get it to you by himself."

She bursted into tears and hugged the machine. A last gift from her husband, no matter how indirect it was.

----

They stayed up late, reminiscing with Moria. Even with their fight it had been an extremely good night for them all. Slightly tipsy they finally retired for the night. Zoro had been sleeping for awhile already so they made sure to keep quiet. Mihawk laid on his mattress back towards Perona. He was exhausted, but was already looking forward for the next day and new year. He had missed family Christmases. It wasn't the same to spend it with Shanks no matter how good a friend he was. Still he missed his son the most. He wished he hadn't been such a coward and had come here earlier with him.

Mihawk had almost fallen asleep when he felt Perona climb behind him. She didn't say anything just laid there next to him. But when she pressed her forehead against his back slightly, he had to move away startling her. She had thought he was asleep. Perona scurried away to her own bed and hid herself into her blanket clearly embarrassed. Mihawk sat up and looked at her shaking figure in the dark.

- "What was that?" - "Nothing, just sleep." She mumbled back at him. - "You were on my bed just now." - "I wasn't." - "What is wrong?" He felt annoyed, but tried to sound understanding. He didn't want to fight.

After a moment of solid silence Perona finally sighed and mumbled still hidden in her blanket.

- "I miss him. Sorry." Her voice broke slightly at the end.

Mihawk rubbed his beard and let his hand go over his forehead and hair. He sighed. It was a bad idea. He went back to his earlier position pulling his blanket over himself. He pressed against the wall to give her space.

- "Fine. You can be on the bed with me. But try not to touch me."

Cheerily she jumped up and climbed on the bed. She hugged him snuggling her face against his back.

- "Perona." He growled her a warning and she quickly pulled apart from him.

Definitely a very bad idea.

----

He woke in the middle of the night. He needed to go to the restroom and Zoro was whining lightly, but Mihawk found himself trapped. Perona was slightly on top of his chest her hands around his neck. He too had inadvertently during his sleep pulled her closer into a loose hug. He could feel her calmly breathe against his neck and he suddenly felt extremely warm. It had been ages since he had slept close to someone like this. His son had been the last one. Sure he had had flings after Hancock, but he hadn't stayed long after the act. Sleeping like this felt extremely intimate to him.

He tried to gently pry Perona off of himself, but she tightened her hold of him and put her other leg over his. He was even more trapped and now her body was pressing against him fully. Thank lord there was the two blankets between them.

Mihawk prayed that she wouldn't wake, but he needed to be a bit rougher. He rolled on top of her making sure not to press against her. Her hands were still around his neck, but her hold had loosened. Mihawk looked at her sleeping face. He always tried to push the thought away, but Perona was the most beautiful person he had met and he felt, that she got more beautiful as time went by. Peronas arms finally slipped down and she moved a bit to her side smiling in her sleep.

He looked at her for a long while wondering, what it would have been like if he had met someone like her all those years ago. If Hancock had been like Perona, they would probably still be together. He sighed and sat beside her giving his head a few frustrated rubs. It was weird thinking of Perona as a woman and not just his daughter-in-law. Why did his thoughts start moving that way? It was Shanks fault all of it. He keeps on stirring up ideas in peoples heads, blabbermouth troublemaker that he is. Always has been.

"What if she wants to marry someone you don't know?"

She can't marry and go away. He needs them close to himself. He needs them, to be happy.

Mihawk shook his head lightly and after relieving himself in the bathroom, he went to the dining room. There he took a wine bottle and poured some into his glass. He drank it quickly and poured some more. He twirled the wine, drank it and then reached for a chocolate box that was left on the table. He took one confetti and tried guessing what it tasted like before checking from the box.

Marsipan.

He drank some more wine to wash down the taste and reached for another piece of chocolate. He ate it, again trying to guess the taste.

Bitter taste of cherries.

He remembered a cherry tree back at his childhood home and when his mother had done him a pie to celebrate him going to preschool and how his father had patted him on the back saying that he was a big boy now. How they were driving to the grandparents as it rained and the road was bad. When father lost the control of the car and hit a tree. How he was later told that his mother had been crushed and died instantly.

It was so long ago, that now he couldn't remember what his mother looked like or how she acted.

Mihawk drank more and ate some other chocolates. Such dark thoughts, he was definitely in the downswing from the drinking earlier. More drinking would quickly cure that. And his thoughts went back to Perona and Zoro. How it would be lonely if they left. He pressed his face against the cool table putting his arms over his head.

It wasn't right at all to be so selfish.

When Europe is bothered by the boiling heat, I submit ya'll a cool christmas chapter. I always laugh when they show christmas episodes/specials during summer, but look at me now. I'm laughing at myself.

If you want a good mechanical sewing machine be ready to spend a lot of money. Or one could buy a cheaper one, but Perona has always been a bit low on the money. You know how it can be. You want something but arent really prepared to spend the money no matter how badly you want it. And hubby was stubborn wanting to use his own money, but he just pushed it back because of getting the apartment with Perona, trying to safe money and the rise of expenses when they got Zoro. It never seemed like the right time.

Surprise, surprise, Mihis mom died in a car accident. Double shitty to get your son killed in one too. But he's a cool guy and doesn't blame cars or the people driving them. He propably blames himself, like usual.

#MihawkxPerona #mihopero #dracule mihawk #perona #one piece #ミホペロ #Irreplaceable #fanfic

6 notes · View notes

sportsanimehell-scenarios · 7 years

Note

uwaahhh love your blog so far! uwu i read your rules and i hope aus aren't against your rules! an odd au scenario but may i request HQ boys (kuroo, oikawa, terushima, bokuto, akaashi) finding out their reader is a vampire who won't drink blood but she'll die if she doesn't? b/cshe's terrified of killing somebody as she isn't able to control her hunger, but obviously HQ guys are pretty strong and can handle it. yandere!elements are welcome

Oikawa, Kuroo, and Akaashi will be done at a later date. Until then, enjoy Terushima and Bokuto.~Admin Panini

[semi-nsfw and also some minor blood under the cut.]

Terushima Yuuji

He didn’t belong here. It wasn’t the bleached blonde undercut or the two black studs in his ear that gave it away. No, it was his scent. On top of the light spritz of spiced cologne, it was the unmistakable copper of the blood flowing through his veins. You watched him saunter into the party like he had a clue, making his way towards the bar. In any other vampire-dominated social gathering, there would have already been a small crowd surrounding him with gentle touches, seductive whispers, and tempting propositions. He was tall, athletic, young, but also naïve and eager, all perfect qualities for a meal.

For a human, he was sharper than he let on. He knew you were watching, even when you pretended to remain uninterested. You weren’t alone, but Terushima didn’t know that or he didn’t care. Your maker was off making conversation with another party guest, leaving you all alone at the edge near the bar. You decided what the old woman didn’t know wouldn’t hurt her.

The moment he took the seat next to yours, your entire body trembled and you were filled with a hunger you never knew was possible. Not only were you out for blood, you were out for his soul. You didn’t know this man, but some primal instinct inside you urged you to feed. To gorge yourself on his life’s essence until he was nothing but a drained heap on the floor.

The bartender gave him a pointed glance, which he promptly ignored, when he ordered a whiskey on the rocks. You pursed your lips and quickly turned your gaze away. Some vampires liked the added punch from a human that has consumed alcohol before feeding, but you were never very fond of it.

“So what’s a pretty thing like you doing here, sitting all alone?” he finally asked, leaning on his elbow as he stared at you curiously.

You snorted and mirrored him, leaning on your opposite elbow. Catching a glimpse of the silver stud embedded in his tongue sent added shivers down your spine that were already there from his confidence. Or was it brash entrance? “I could say that same for you. You’re either very stupid or you want something.”

The way his chocolate brown eyes flickered as they followed your swinging legs had you swelling with pride. Terushima took a huge breath before grabbing the collar of his shirt and tugging it down slightly. “You hungry?”

You hadn’t been a teenager in at least two decades, but his hand on the small of your back as he swiftly led you to another room made you feel young, almost human again. Terushima’s gaze was transfixed as you backed him into the room and gave him a controlled shove into the plush leather couch. His breath hitched in his throat when you followed and straddled his lap.There was a rhythmic pounding in his chest that beat like a drum’s rhythm and all you wanted to do was press your head against him and listen to it all day long. But you were hungry and you only had so much time before your maker noticed you were gone.

“Listen to that heart race…like a mouse,” you smiled, letting the gentle hand on his chest rake into nails. He hissed softly. “

“Are you scared, little mouse?” you questioned, lips curving into a delicate yet knowing smile.

He shook his head, trying to put on a confident front. After all, isn’t this what he signed up for, what he set out to find tonight?

He glanced down at the space between you two, as miniscule as it was, but you grabbed his chin and tilted it up and looking at you and only you. The way you were staring into his eyes was so intense, he didn’t dare look away.

“Are you going to do those vampire mind tricks on me?” he asked, eyebrows quirked and breath quickening.

“No. I don’t have to. I know you want this,” you gave him a catlike grin. “I just need to hear it from you.”

You leaned down towards his neck and inhaled. He smelled so delicious, you could practically smell the sweet nectar flowing beneath his skin. Terushima shuddered, his grip on your hips tightening. “Yes.”

“What do you want, little mouse? You have to tell me.”

“I want…I want you to bite me.”

“Good boy,” you smirked against his neck. The little skip in his heartbeat made your fangs extend involuntarily. With a hunger you couldn’t control any longer, you sank your teeth into his neck.

Bokuto Koutarou

Bokuto had never seen you like this before, standing outside his door in the pouring rain, soaked to the bone. When he pulled you into his arms and quickly ushered you inside his apartment, your entire body felt like ice, not uncommon for a vampire. But for the first time, you were shivering, your body struggling to create warmth that would never come. You were out of breath, meaning you had come on foot, even in this crazy weather.

“I did it, Bokuto,” you smiled. “I ran away.”

“You did,” you said, more to himself than you. “You really did it.”

He could never hurt you again. The man who raised you, beat you, starved you. He would never lay a finger on you again. Bokuto knew he was only human, but he would protect you with his life. He made a promise.

After drying you off and lending some dry clothes to change into, Bokuto wandered into the kitchen, pacing back and forth. No doubt you were starving. Literally. The bastard had starved you for days, weeks even. Lord knows how long it’s been since you had any color on your face. When he held you in his arms, you were way too slim for it to be healthy. He reached for the door of his fridge, gripping the cold metal handle before letting his hand fist his hair in frustration. There was nothing in there that could feed you, really feed you. Then from the corner of his eyes, he saw the black handles sticking out from the knife block.

“Bokuto?”

He spun around and smiled at the sight of you wearing one of his sweatshirts, the soft material enveloping you in the smell of fresh laundry with a hint of Bokuto himself. “___. Are you hungry?” he asked, reaching for the small curved blade he usually used for fruit.

Your eyes widened at the knife in his hands before your gaze fell to the ground. Even though you were no longer within your maker’s clutches, your brain was still held captive as you gave your conditioned response. It left your mouth too easily, but that didn’t make it any less repulsive to say. “No. I’m not.”

“You don’t have to lie anymore, ___. How long has it been since you fed? And synthetic stuff doesn’t count.”

Both of you knew the answer to that question and yet he knew you weren’t going to answer it. Bokuto sighed, place the knife on the counter. “Please. I want to help. You’ll feel a lot better if you feed.” He would feel a lot better, knowing you were safe and full and warm.

He expected more resistance but to his surprise and yours, you reached for the knife. “Let me do it. You might hurt yourself.”

He tried to tamper down any second thoughts upon seeing your trembling hands hold the knife shakily over his wrist. He whispered words of comfort into your ear, his warm hand covering yours. He hissed when the blade pierced his skin, and red trickled slowly from the cut. The knife clattered to the ground next to you but before Bokuto could ask if you were ok, you laced your fingers with the back of his hand and tugged him close with an urgent strength.

Your heart fluttered eagerly in your chest upon feeling his pulse quicken against your tongue. Bokuto’s smile softened upon hearing your delighted sigh as you drank from his wrist. You recalled your mortal days when your mother would give you warm milk with honey and a kiss on the top of your head whenever you were sick. The taste of Bokuto’s blood was sweeter than the purest golden honey yet warmer than the feeling of the sun on your skin, a feeling you would never know again.

The red was slowly returning to your cheeks while Bokuto was beginning to feel a little lightheaded himself. Upon feeling his pulse begin to wane, you immediately withdrew your fangs that had reflexively extended upon feeding and managed to pull yourself away from his wrist. “Bokuto, are you ok?” you asked, dabbing a bit of your own blood over his wound to close it up.

“I’m fine, ___. That was nothing,” he grinned weakly. “Just…let me lay down for a bit.”

You smiled and in one easy motion, you swept his legs out from under him and effortlessly held him in your arms. The look of surprise on his bright features was utterly worth it as he sputtered incoherently. “Wait, what are you doing?”

“Carrying you, silly. What does it look like?” you smiled, making your way towards his bedroom.

“I could have walked on my own, y’know,” he pouted, struggling to cross his arms over his broad chest.

“I know, but you look really cute like this,” you teased, nuzzling your nose against his.

“I am pretty cute, huh?” Bokuto smirked, nose tilting upwards proudly.

“Alright, cutie. Time for bed,” you grinned, setting him down gently. He reached out and tugged you down next to him. You brushed a few stray strands of hair away from his face before snuggling close and drifting off to sleep.

#haikyuu #haikyuu scenarios #bokuto koutaro #terushima yuuji #vampire au #admin panini

16 notes · View notes

footballfinns · 7 years

Text

Waiting All Day

Summary: Finn and Rachel spend an evening together on Finn's day off.

Finn finished setting Rachel’s dinner up, having made her the garden burger and also a salad before he worked on making himself spaghettios because nothing else sounded good to him. He really bad been having a long day, the hours alone dragging. Finn used to cherish alone time but since coming to New York, he struggled with it a bit. When Rachel walked in the door, he smiled and greeted her with a kiss. “How was work?”

Rachel walked down the hallway to their apartment, a grease stained bag in hand. French fries - a little surprise for Finn who was waiting at home for her with a garden burger, a massage and a long, boring day behind him. She worried a little about him spending all of it alone but she was also making an effort not to impose the possible perception of unhappiness on him. If he didn’t come to her and say he was having a hard time, she wasn’t going to assume anything. She was, however, going to continue doing the little things he’d mentioned on their last date night. And bringing him french fries, even though the smell was repulsive to her at this point, hopefully accomplished that. “Busy. I’m glad I’m finally home.” She kissed him back, then offered up the bag to him. “Since we were talking about fries earlier, I stopped at that burger place around the block and got you some so they’d still be hot.”

“I'm glad you're home too.” He really was too, beyond just being lonely he missed her presence. He smiled as she offered him the bag in her hand and graciously accepted it. “Awesome! You're the best.” He gave her another kiss and turned around “Dinner is on the table. I can put it in the microwave though if you want to shower first.”

Rachel had to stop herself from bolting to the table, the idea of food and the chance to finally sit down both completely intoxicating. “As gross as I smell and feel, I’m starving. I haven’t eaten anything since lunch, which feels like it was a million years ago.” Slipping around him, she sat down at the table and took a huge bite of her burger. “So good.”

“I don't think you smell that gross.” He commented, though he was sure she felt differently. Sitting beside her, he began to eat his fries and spaghettios. “I'm glad you like it. I wasn't sure what else to cook with your burger so I hope you were in the mood for a salad.”

Rachel didn’t want to be completely boorish so she finished chewing a second bite before responding. “A salad is actually perfect. It’s light and this’ll be just enough food for me.” Turning her head, she kissed his cheek. “I appreciate all of this. I’m sure cooking dinner wasn’t really the highlight of your day, but I do promise a handsome reward for your troubles.”

“It was no problem, baby. I was bored. Of course I can take care of you after you've been working all day and I haven’t.” he shrugged.

Rachel happily plucked salad from her plate and popped each bite into her mouth, the savory dressing satisfying her tastebuds. “You take care of me even when we both work so I can’t complain on any level. But be honest..” She paused to look at him with a conspiratorial gaze. “You are trying to seduce me with salad, aren’t you?”

Finn looked at her with a confused expression, his mouth full of spaghettios. After swallowing, he laughed a little “That good?”

“Everything you do is that good.” Rachel wink, then emphasized her reaction at another bite of salad, practically moaning with joy as she devoured it. “See? Seduction material. That’s what this salad is. And don’t get me started on the burger.”

He watched her with an amused grin, shaking his head “Who knew I made such great food?” He leaned over to kiss her cheek.

“You’re very good at a lot of things. Food definitely makes the list.” She took the last bite of her burger - had she really eaten that quickly - and tried to slow down with her salad, taking smaller bites so it would last longer. When it was gone too, she was almost disappointed. “I don’t ever remember eating anything that way. You’d think I went to the gym twice too.”

“I haven't really seen you eat like that. It's kinda hot.” he joked with her as he finished off his fries.

Rachel’s eyebrows flicked up and down, the grin on her face impossible to suppress and in no way sexy. “Who knew that pigging out and stuffing my face turned you on. The gym really did get you all hopped up, I see.” Reluctantly, she stood, her feet aching again the instant they touched the floor. “I’m going to warm up the shower and pull out clothes that I probably won’t wear tonight… if you get my meaning.” She drifted off towards the bedroom, her eyes peering back at Finn the whole way.

“Well you know how much I love to eat.” he shrugged. “I'll be there in a minute.” He watched her walk away and cleaned up dinner a little before he followed after her. He pulled his shirt off as he walked into the bathroom, more than ready to shower with her.

Rachel tossed a t-shirt on the bed in case she got cold later then peeled her uniform off before starting up the shower. She was enjoying the steam surrounding her, eyes closed and head rolled to the side, when she heard footsteps. Turning, Finn stood in all his glory and Rachel bit down on her bottom lip. He was so sexy and all she wanted was to go back in their room and have him push he down on the bed. Shower first, Rachel, she told herself as she took his hand and eased into the shower. The warmth of the water, and Finn’s body as she pulled in close, made her sigh at making the right choice. “The water feels almost as good as you do.” Her lips found his then parted quickly as she let herself fall into a heated kiss.

He stripped naked just in time for Rachel to reach her hand out to him. Stepping into the water, he sighed happily. His happiness grew at the attention he got from his girlfriend. His arms wrapped around her and he kissed her back deeply. “Oh just you wait.” he said with a smirk, keeping close.

Rachel’s arms wrapped around his neck so that her body curved perfectly against his. “Only if I have to. You know how patient I am.” Which was not very, but she tried to show some restraint by keeping her hands appropriately placed on his neck and only kissing him. “Eventually I’m going to have to stop kissing you and actually wash up.”

“I'm only making you wait because I know you'll regret not taking a real shower.” he said with a laugh. “Do you need me to leave?” He teased.

“Absolutely not.” For emphasis, she held a little tighter and pressed her mouth hard to his. What was driving her, she wasn’t entirely sure - she hadn’t been this revved up in awhile. “Stay. I missed you like you missed me and I don’t want to be away from you for one second.”

“I don't want to be away from you either baby.” he gave her another kiss. “I thought about you all day.”

Rachel was never going to get clean at this rate, and she wasn’t sure she actually cared. “How much did you miss me?”

He could tell an actual shower wasn't going to happen so he gave in and ran his hand down her back, pulling her tighter against him. “I think you can feel how much I missed you.”

There was no denying the arousal she felt pressing against her stretched torso, the temptation of it very real as his hand moved along her back. “We should do something about it.” She moved her arm so she could kiss his neck, the marks she made fading more quickly than she’d like.

“I want to… I want you so bad.” He whispered as his hand moved between her legs to toy with her.

His touch made Rachel bite down on his shoulder, a bruise inevitable but equally disguisable. She hadn’t realized the affection of her husband was all that she really needed - which she thought was stupid on her part since the past few years had told her it otherwise. Writing against him, she moaned quietly. “You can feel how bad I want the same.”

Finn groaned as she bit down on his shoulder. He loved it when she did that. “Do you want to do it in here?” He asked her.

Rachel didn’t care where they did it at this point, as long as they actually did it. “Yes.” Her nails dug into the skin of his back as she pressed against his hand, wanting more of everything. “Just fuck me, baby.”

Finn loved hearing that and he wrapped his arms around her to pick her up. He pressed her against the shower wall and placed himself at her center, wasting no time in pushing into her with a low groan.

Finn’s body connecting with her own made Rachel perfectly happy, and she whispered his name before another, more primal sound, echoed through the tiny space. His arm felt strong around her and she bucked against him, wanting everything that intimacy with Finn promised. “Exactly what I wanted.”

Finn began to move his hips into her “Me too baby… fuck, I've wanted you all day.” He sometimes hated shower sex because it was slippery but he was keeping a good hold on her.

Rachel’s head fell back, the shower wall supporting it and the rest of her body as Finn pushed against her, his thrusts hitting just the right spot. Her heel dug into his backside as her nails did the same to his shoulder. “You make me feel so good.”

“You feel good.. So tight.” His movements grew as he finally got to release some of the tension he'd been building up all day.

Rachel managed to smile a little as she held tightly to Finn. Him uninhibited, giving her what she need and getting what he did at the same time, was as intoxicating as the way he knew her body. “I love you. So much.”

“I love you too, baby. I want to feel you cum.” he pressed his lips against hers. He wasn't close yet, but he wanted to make her feel amazing a few times tonight.

It didn't take much for Rachel to achieve climax, his words and his hands, his body taking her there. The kiss broke as she buried her face in his neck, her body coming completely undone with release.

Finn held her tightly as she released around him, surprised that it wasn't triggering his own. He kept his hips moving “Want to go to the bed?”

Rachel was a little surprised when she didn't feel him release after her, but his words told her he wasn't done yet. “Yes.”

Finn gently set her down and gave her a long kiss as he turned the faucet off. He stepped out and grabbed towels, though he didn't take the time to dry off at all before he headed to the bedroom and grabbed a condom to roll onto himself.

Rachel took a towel from Finn and dried off. She still could feel work sticking to her skin but she could always shower and wash off later. The only thing on her mind on the moment was her sexy husband in their bed.

He lay on the bed and waited for Rachel and when she joined him, he smirked and pulled her to him. “You're so sexy.” he told her as his hand moved to her butt.

Rachel's tiny gasp sounded like a giggle as he drew her close. “Really now?” She kissed just the corner of his mouth to start. “I've said it before but you really seem into the bootie lately.” Her lips moved fully to his now, the kiss quickly escalating to hot.

“Mhm.” he said with a smirk. “I can't help it, you've got a good one.” He was glad her kisses grew more heated and he moved so he was between her legs again, rubbing against her as they kissed.

There was no mistaking Finn's intentions as he moved between her thighs. “You've said.” Her fingers ran through his short hair. “Any other parts that you fancy?”

“I think you know what parts I like best.” he said as he moved his hand to her breast.

“Hmmm… I do. And I like the feeling of your hands on those parts. Everywhere actually.”

“I do love touching you. You know that.” He smiled down at her before giving her a kiss. “Are you ready for more?”

“I think the real question is…” Rachel wrapped her legs around him and flipped their position. Her thighs hugged his hips as she leaned in to nip at his lip, then the sensitive spots on his neck. “Are you.” For emphasis, she pressed down against him, the clear answer to her question rubbing against her.

Finn let himself roll onto his back and he smirked up at her, his hands running up her torso. “I've been ready… I'm so hard for you.”

Rachel took her time with his neck while she enjoyed the feel of his hands on her skin. She wouldn't make him wait long but she was still sensitive from before and she was giving herself a small window of recovery. “All day long, so I've heard.” Slowly, she reached between them and lined his erection with her entrance. “You should've called me. I could've talked you up.” She sank down, allowing them to both enjoy the sensation. “But this is better.”

“You were busy.” he scoffed, but it quickly turned into a sigh as she finally sunk onto him. “This is so much better.” His hands paused on her hips.

Rachel took a moment to look down at Finn and enjoy the momentary complacency on his face. It would change to something else when she started moving, but for the moment he looked blissful. “I'd have found some time.” Her hips shifted, Rachel leaning forward, her hands firm against his chest while she worked out a pace. “Especially for this.”

He bit his lip as he looked up at her. He loved watching his wife on top of him. “Noted, baby.” he groaned as his hand moved back to her chest.

Rachel read his face as she rode him, his groans making her feel powerful. She was focused on his release but also on the shared experience of their intimacy. The was he always touched her breasts and her hips told her that he saw their pleasure too and it wasn't his alone. “Mmm, baby. You're so big. It’s so good like this.”

Finn let his head fall back to the pillows but he kept his eyes on her still. His hips moved with her, though he let her control the pace. “I love watching you baby.. so much.”

Rachel knew what he liked and she'd give him a taste of it before changing things a little, hopefully revealing something he liked in the process. “I just love you.” Her lips formed a small “o,” and involuntary response to the way his hips moved into hers.

“I love you so much… so much, baby.” He held her hip tighter.

Rachel put her hand on his. “And I love you.” At that point, she moved a little faster, wanting to give Finn what he needed for release.

Finn was growing closer and he let his hips move up into her in hard thrusts. “Fuck.. I'm close.” he said just before he spilled over the edge.

Without much coaxing, Rachel was drawn into his release, her body shuddering around him as he finished. She slumped forward a little, not wanting to collapse completely and clobber him. Her arms shook as she held herself up, a minute or two passing before she eased down, her body resting atop his. “I'd say your salad worked.” Looking up, she kissed his chin.

He wrapped his arms around her and pressed kisses to any skin he could reach. “Who knew salad got me laid?” he joked.

Rachel tilted her head a little so he could get at her lips, then her neck. “I think the better question is what doesn’t get you laid. That’s a much shorter list.” Sighing, she finally had to move off him. She slid down to the bed, knowing she definitely needed to shower now but not wanting to move at all.

“You do love me very much.” he grinned. When she rolled off of him, he frowned a little, missing the contact but he knew she probably wanted to shower. He got up and moved to the bathroom to get rid of the condom and lay back on the bed when he returned “I'll let you take and real shower now.” He said with a laugh.

Rachel felt completely unmotivated but knew that she absolutely had to get a shower in, so once he was back in bed, she forced herself up. “It’ll be quick. I just want to get that greasy smell out of my hair.” Which she did with record speed. She had enough time to miss him, though it really didn’t take much time at this point, before she climbed back in bed and snuggled close. “There. I smell better and feel better.”

Finn almost fell asleep when she left, feeling content for the first time that day. When she came back to him, he wrapped his arm around and pulled the blanket up over them. “You smell really good.” He said as he cuddled her close.

Finn looked happy, which naturally made Rachel feel like she’d accomplished something just by being there. “It might sound incredibly ‘girly’ but I like smelling good. I don’t know how you do a job where you might have to get sweaty and dirty. I don’t think I could.”

Finn shrugged “I like smelling good too but I don't care that much when I do get sweaty and gross.”

“I do. Especially when my sweat starts smelling like the diner.” Her face scrunched up in disgust. “I think I’d rather smell like just about anything.”

“I could see why that would be gross.” He nodded his head. “usually my sweat just smells like me… which probably isn't great but.” he laughed.

Rachel rested her head against his shoulder. “I like the way you smell naturally, and after you’ve showered. Maybe I just like you period.”

“I definitely just like you period.” he grinned. “I love you.”

“I love you too. And I’m really glad that I got to spend this time with you. It really does me a lot to me.”

“It means a lot to me too. It made my whole day better to get some alone time with you.”

Rachel stroked his cheek a little, her eyes closed as he talked to her. “I think this goes without saying but I’m the happiest when I’m right here with you. No stress, no pressure. Just you and me.” More often than not, especially lately, she wished she could just stay home with him like this all the time. In a perfect world, she thought.

“I am happiest here with you too, baby. Life is easy when it's just you and i.” he kissed her cheek.

“It is. If I had my way, this is how everyday would be. Just the two of us laying around and blissed out on each other.” Sighing, she let the idea of it take hold for a minute. “If we ever magically win the lottery, that’s what it would be.”

“Can't you just get rich from being a big actress already so we can do that?” He asked playfully.

“Oh, I see how it is. You’re just want me for my future fortune.” Rachel poked his rib then kissed him lightly.

“I thought I made it clear that I was digging for gold when I married you.” he said with a laugh.

“I must have missed that conversation. All this time I thought it was about love. Or, at the very least, sex and Reese’s Puffs. But it was just the money.” Eyes directed at the ceiling in faux contemplation, Rachel tapped her chin a bit then shrugged. “I probably would’ve married you anyway. You’re hot.”

Finn nodded his head “Might have been a mixture of everything.” he looked down at her. “You're pretty hot yourself.”

“Fate intervened and decided that two people as attractive as we are were just destined to be.” Rachel gave dramatic flourish of her arms before settling back down again. “It also could’ve been luck. I got lucky and found a boy who I learned to love.”

Finn laughed and pressed kisses to her cheek. “I think I'm lucky too. You're more than I could have imagined I would end up marrying.”

Had he stayed in Lima, Rachel envisioned him marrying someone like Quinn, which was tragic to her no only because she loved him but Rachel knew he could do better than someone who didn’t consider him. “I never really thought about getting married. I mean, obviously I thought I might because I thought about children after I won my first Tony. But even that… I never saw myself with a husband. I guess it took the right person.”

“I didn't really like picture myself married or anything. Quinn talked about it all the time, but I was pretty indifferent about it.” He shrugged. “once we actually got together though I was pretty sure I was going to spend the rest of my life with you one way or another.”

“Wow. The cuddles and kisses must have been good for you to think that. We weren’t even having sex at that point so I wasn’t wowing you with my bedroom skills.”

“Guess I really love ya, hate to break it to you.” he joked.

Rachel’s teeth hovered at her bottom lip, her smile not to be contained. “That’s the best news I’ve heard all day. Actually, the best news I hear everyday.”

“You're not sick of hearing it yet?”

“I’ll never be sick of hearing it. Not one moment for the rest of my life.” Rachel buried her feet deep in the blankets, resisting the urge to put them on Finn, even though he didn’t seem to mind her cold feet on his legs. “I’ll never get sick of saying I love you too.”

“I will always love hearing that you love me.” he smiled warmly. “Are you cold?”

“Just my feet. The rest of me’s good.” Rachel cuddled closer just for good measure. “Even better now.”

“Why are your feet always so cold?” He cuddled her closer.

Rachel shrugged. “I don’t know. They just seem to get colder than the rest of me when I don’t have anything on my feet. Maybe it’s poor circulation? I don’t think it is but I don’t know.”

“I don't think you have poor circulation.” he laughed. “You can rest them on me if you need to.”

“If I was smart, I'd get some socks. But being naked with just socks would look pretty ridiculous.”

“You're not allowed to wear any clothes at all during naked time.” he shook his head.

As much as she liked being cuddled up next to him like this, Rachel didn't know if they'd be able to stay warm with no clothes. “And is naked time going to last all night? Because my cold feet will end up on you that way.”

“If you're really cold we can put pajamas on. I don't want you to freeze.” he kissed her cheek.

“Just keep holding me for now. If I get cold…” She looked around for the shirt she'd put out earlier, but could not spot it. “I guess I'll find something. Or just get you to warm me up.”

“I'm trying to warm you up now!” he laughed. “But I won't be mad if you get dressed, you know I love naked cuddles but I like them either way.”

“You're doing a good job. But just a little bit of kissing wouldn't hurt.”

Finn sighed dramatically “I gotta kiss you too? So needy tonight.”

Rachel’s bottom lip rolled out just enough to make her look slighted. “Well, if you don't want to, I'll just go find my shirt.”

“Hey hey hey… I will give you all the kisses you want.” he gave her one to prove his point.

Rachel gladly took the kiss. “Such a hardship for you. An adorable, demanding wife who just wants you. How do you deal?”

“I don't know how I handle it.” He said between kisses.

“I do. We both come home, take our clothes off and give one another the proper level of attention we missed out on during the day.”

“That does help.” he kissed down to her neck. “The fact that you like being naked as much as I do brings me a lot of joy.”

“I can’t lie and say I did in the beginning. I think it’s that I have to be in clothes all day long, like for school and work, and they’re so uncomfortable. I just don’t want to have them on once I’m home.” Rachel leaned in for another kiss. “And you’ve helped me be okay with my body being so exposed. You’ve always been really good about that.”

“I hate wearing clothes. I just like being naked. I think I'd like to be a nudist.” he joked. “You have an amazing body so I am glad I could help.”

Rachel's rolled her eyes a little, her lips curling in an amused smile. “You can be a nudist in the apartment all you want. Except when we're eating dinner. That'd be distracting.”

“I can't eat while naked?” He scoffed. “Fine. Deal.”

“You're lucky I love and adore you. Otherwise, I might think you were a little strange.”

“This is why you're the only person I'm ever myself with.” He said with a laugh.

“I wouldn't have you any other way than just you.”

He closed his eyes as he rest his head against her. “I wish I had another day off.”

Rachel wished they both did so they could spend it like they were now. “It's always difficult having a whole day to yourself then being forced to be grown up and go to work.”

“It really is lame. I would like to have a longer break sometimes.” he said with a sigh.

“I'd like that too. Just time for you and me. It's really the only thing that I miss about high school.”

“Well hopefully this summer when you have time off of school, I can get time off so we can spend a week or so together.”

Rachel didn't want to tell him yet that she was considering attending school for the summer - a less rigorous schedule, but still at least a few days a week. A week, though, she could probably manage. “I like the sound of that.”

“Then I won't have to spend all my days off just waiting for you to get home like a loser.” he joked.

Rachel knew from the tone in his voice that he was kidding but his words tugged at her heart and she could barely refrain from an attempt at coddling him. “Instead you'll spend them laying around with me, sans pants.”

“And that's way better than going to the gym all day just to get out of boredom.” he kissed her cheek.

“Anything is better than that, baby.” Rachel packed her pillow a little so it would support her neck as she got comfortable.

He turned a little more and ran his hand over her side. “I don't wanna sleep.” He pouted.

Rachel fixed her eyes so they'd stay open. Or at least that was her hope. “Okay. We'll stay up a little longer then.”

“It's okay.. you're tired.” he gave her a soft kiss. “Goodnight baby.”

Rachel smiled against his lips. “Thank you for being so sweet. I love you.” Her arm moved around him. “Goodnight.”

“I love you too.” he rest next to her and closed his eyes drifting off slowly.

#finchel #finchel rp #glee rp #para

2 notes · View notes