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buckyalpine · 8 months

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CEO Bucky takes his anger out on his secretary (ft smut)

Imagine CEO!Bucky accidently taking his anger out on his already stressed out secretary. He gets mean and you will deal with it because I wanted this angst turned smut to go from chest itching to stomach fluttering.

Your stomach twisted in knots looking at the pile of papers you had stacked on your desk, the phone still ringing while new messages popped up in your email inbox every 5 minutes. The files had to be organized by the next meeting and the number on the phone display was one you couldn’t ignore. The back to back messages were from various investors, each person insisting they were a priority over the others. You kept the receiver between your ear and shoulder, your hands flying around your desk madly between papers and tapping your keyboard.

You quickly added a few more meetings to the calendar before hurrying to your bosses office to remind him of one he had later that afternoon. You hesitated before knocking at the door, the closed doors indicating he was busy, but you knew he’d want a heads up about the meeting.

“Mr. Barnes, you have a meeting with Stark Enterprises at 3:30-

“Didn’t I tell you to move this meeting to next week?” Bucky snapped, blue eyes glaring at you while you blinked in confusion. “Well?”

“N-no” You shook your head, you’d never missed an email before and you’d always been on top of scheduling changes on time. Bucky mumbled something under his breath before waving you off, the shrill sound of his phone going off.

“Barnes” Bucky grunted, answering the phone without looking back at you, leaving to you scramble away and figure out if you could rearrange the date with Tony Stark.

Which was a mess in itself.

You had to argue back and forth, pleading to no end for a different day with Starks assistant only reluctantly agreeing after nearly half an hour.

“You really should be more responsible, can’t believe Barnes has the likes of you working under him” the woman on the phone clicked her tongue before slamming down the receiver, cutting the call. You sighed, taking in a deep breath to calm the tightness you felt in your throat, you didn’t have time to break down now.

You printed the up coming contracts for Bucky to sign, organizing them by name and highlighting the places he had to sign so he didn’t have to bother finding the space for signatures. You scurried back into his office, dreading the tense click of his jaw, your nerves increasing even more.

“Sir, these are your papers-” You stumbled over the corner of the rug, scattering the papers onto the floor, your heart hammering out of your chest when you saw Bucky irritatedly run his fingers through his hair.

“For fucks sake, y/n, I’m already stressed, don’t screw more shit up!” He growled, eyes hardening at the sight of the papers strewn across the floor of his office while you stayed frozen on the spot. Your eyes glossed over, quickly scrambling to the floor to grab the documents, mumbling apologies over and over again, hoping none of your tears stained the paper. The sight of tears streaking down your face broke Bucky out of his frustrated state, instantly regretting the tone he’d used with you.

“Fuck” Bucky cursed under his breath, getting out of his chair to help you but you’d already managed to pick everything up, immediately trying to scramble away.

“Y/n”

You didn’t stop, unable to take more of Bucky’s wrath, continuing to hurry towards the door, desperately trying to hold down your sniffles and aggressively wiping your cheeks.

“Y/n”

Bucky sighed, gently reaching out to grab your arm and pulling you to face him, his feeling even worse when you kept your eyes trained on the floor, your arms wrapped around yourself.

“I’m sorry, p-please d-on’t yell” You choked out, still trying to hold your composure together, fighting the way your body wanted to break down into sobs

“It’s okay. I’m sorry, I’m sorry” his heart broke seeing the tears collecting in your lash line, his thumb swiping away the ones that spilled out. “M’sorry baby” he wasn’t sure where the pet name came from but he couldn’t help it, letting it naturally roll off his tongue. You were still rigid, refusing to look at him, nearly flinching when he pulled you closer, tilting your chin up to meet his steel blues.

“Look at me” He spoke softly now, as if he were trying to coax a small animal out of hiding, his touch gentle, “I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have yelled at you”

“It’s okay” you shrugged, slipping out of his hold, quickly wiping your face and going back to work as if nothing had happened. Even though he’d apologized, his words rang through your mind for the rest of the day.

In fact, they stuck with you through the entire week.

Bucky hated the way you didn’t even look at him anymore. He missed your soft good mornings and shy smile whenever he walked into his office. Now all you did was keep your head down, freezing in fear as soon as you heard his footsteps. And it was all his fault.

He despised that he made you feel scared of him, his own anger being the cause of upsetting you when you had been nothing but sweet from the day he’d met you. You were also the best he’d ever had; no one else had ever come close to how brilliantly you worked; you never missed anything. He nearly spat out the coffee that was placed on his table, missing the perfect cup you made for him every morning.

You only spoke 1-2 words, retreating from his office as soon as you got what you needed, your eyes always trained on the floor, looking away from him. He couldn’t take it anymore, feeling more guilty each day; he couldn’t go on any longer without your sweetness.

You blinked at the baby pink roses that sat in a basket on your desk along with a little bear placed on top, a small hand made I’m Sorry heart sitting in its furry hands, clearly in Bucky’s handwriting. You traced over the soft teddy holding it in your hands before going to his office. Before you could say anything, Bucky was up and out of his seat, desperately hoping you’d hear him out.

“M’sorry y/n” His soft eyes were filled with sadness and regret as he reached out to hold your hands in his, not wanting you to run off again, “I’m so sorry angel, there’s no excuse, I shouldn’t have yelled at you”

“It’s fine” You whispered, still avoiding his gaze.

“Hey, it’s not fine” Bucky shook his head, cupping your face to make you look at him, “It’s not baby, I shouldn’t have ever treated you that way. You do everything for me, I shouldn’t have taken out my anger on you”

“I shouldn’t have messed u-

“Don’t, absolutely not. You never do sweets, it was me who messed up. Never you. Will you forgive me, doll?” Bucky nervously bit his lip while you gave him a small nod, that adorable shy smile he loved so much making its way to your lips.

“God, I missed this” He whispered, his thumb tracing over your lips, chuckling at the tiny confused pout you gave him after.

“What did you miss”

“This little smile you always have whenever you’re around me” Bucky smirked at the way you grew more bashful, doe eyes darting about, “Do you have any idea how much I love when you look at me like that?”

“Mr-Mr. Barnes” Your breath hitched in your throat as his hands slowly moved to hold your waist, pulling you closer. Your hands made their way to his chest to ground yourself, forgetting how to breathe as he pressed his lips against yours. It started off soft and slow; his sweet tongue turning sinful as he walked over to his chair, pulling you to straddle him without breaking apart once. You let out a needy whimper feeling him harden under you though Bucky was still focused on kissing your soft skin, his lips fluttering across every inch.

You’d never been this close to Bucky before, the intoxicating scent of his cologne making your heart race, his calloused large hands roaming your body. You hadn’t even realized you were grinding down on his thick bulge until he let out a groan, stilling your hips.

“Keep that up bunny and you’ll make me cum in my pants like a little boy” Bucky let out a strained chuckle, using every bit of his self restraint not to tear your clothes off.

“Please?” You wiggled against him again, needing to be closer, Bucky’s resolve slowly crumbling. How could he hold back when you were practically humping your soaked needy cunt right on his erection.

“Please what, sweets”

“Need you Sir” your voice had melted in a whine and that was all it took. The sound of his belt buckle hitting the floor caused more arousal to dampen your panties, nearly drooling at the sight of his cock as he pulled it out.

“Are-are you sure?” He checked with you once more, not wasting a second ripping your blouse off as soon as you nodded. He threw your bra off next before lifting your skirt up and pulling your panties to the, rubbing his fingers through your folds.

“Sir, pleasee”

“I got you, I got you baby. Wanted to make love for our first time angel, give you a bed with rose petals n’ champagne over ice” He whispered, recounting every fantasy he’d thought of from the day he’d met you, “Wanted to make you feel good baby, throw your legs over my shoulders and nurse off this little clit”

He rubbed your sensitive bundle of nerves, continuing.

“N’ then you’d be my sweet pillow princess. I’d let you lie down all night while I fuck your soul angel. I’d give you my cum all night, pump you full of my cream”

“Need you now” You whimpered, clutching onto the lapels of his blazer, not that you didn’t want everything he was telling you but you couldn't wait.

“Alright baby, c’mere” He pulled you closer, your bare chest pressed against his as he rubbed his swollen cockhead to gather your slick before breeching your tight hole, his hips gently pushing up till he was buried to the hilt, “That’s it, shhh take all of me”

Bucky gave you a second to adjust to his size, his wide hands splayed across your body to hold you in place as he began to thrust up. You gasped in pleasure, your voice melting into a moan as he picked you up and placed you on his desk, pushing your thighs to hit your chest, hitting an even deeper angel.

“OH GOD-MR-BARNES” You wailed as he fucked you harder, his heard thrown back, tie loosened, tightening the grip he had on your legs, keeping you spread out wide open. He groaned at the sight of his thick cock disappearing in and out of you while you moaned and sobbed on his desk, taking everything he gave you.

“That’s right baby, say my name, let everyone know who makes you feel this good” He grunted through gritted teeth, holding off his orgasm while bringing his thumb to rub your clit again.

“I-I’m gonna-OH-GOD-PLEASEE

“Fuck you sound perfect” Bucky moaned feeling you choke his length, fluttering and pulling him deeper as your orgasm washed over you, his own release dangerously close. “God you feel so fuckin’ good when you cum baby. One more angel, just one more” Bucky practically pleaded with you, speeding up his fingers till he saw your eyes roll back, silent screams leaving your mouth as your juices soaked his balls.

“Fuck m’cumming so hard for you baby” He groaned, giving you a few more sloppy thrusts before stilling and spilling ropes of cum into you. He kept his cock inside while bending down to pick you up and sit back in his chair again. He sat with you for a while, petting your hair and kissing you, whispering sweet nothings.

“Ready to go?” He whispered, looking down to see if you’d fallen asleep while you snuggled into him with your eyes closed.

“Too tired sir” You pouted, nuzzling into his chest, refusing to move, your body too fucked out to even stand.

“I got you baby” Bucky smiled, shrugging off his blazer and wrapping you up before carrying you away in his arms, ready to take you home, right where you belonged “Gonna make love to my pretty girl”

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dcxdpdabbles · 9 months

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DC x DP: Dog Walker

Danny needs someone to walk his dog.

He had been in Gotham for about five months when it became apparent he needed companionship.

Ever since Clockwork and Frostbite came to the same decision to move Danny to a new universe for his health- his core was deteriorating due to his obsession being fulfilled as Amity Park was safe, and everyone was ready to grow up and move on.

So Danny moved to a rough city in a harsh universe so that the danger could help his core restart his obsession.

The first few weeks were fine; he even found work as a computer program designer that allowed him to work from home thanks to his universe's advanced technology, but soon, he struggled with loneliness and homesickness—that was where his dog came into the picture.

He adopted Equinox- Nox for short- from the local shelter, and while Nox was a mutt with unknown parents, Danny had no trouble taking care of him.

That was until he accepted a job offer at Wayne Enterprise, and his work hours shifted from remote work seven days a week to four days. He wasn't stimulating Equinox properly by keeping him inside the three days he was out and his poor boy was suffering from it.

This could have easily be solved with a pet sitter or just a dog walker but this is Gotham. Danny knows he picked this place for its constant danger to keep his obsession active but he just wasn't expecting Gotham to be so...much.

He had a panic attack just thinking about what would happened to Nox if he trusted just anyone to take care of him.

Nox is the only living being that is under his Protection. It went against his very Instincts to not find someone he trusted utterly to walk him.

Danny checks his phone to see Nox peaceful sleeping in his doggy bed and sighs. His boy has been sleeping more and more lately, losing his bright spark.

"Whats wrong Danny?" Karla, one of the Office interns, asks from where she is walking along side him.

"Nothing, it's just my dog needs to go for a walk, and I'm not there to give him one." He says, turning the screen. "I wish I can have some one walk hin for me-"

"Understood. I shall pick up your dog tomorrow, Fenton," a tiny voice cuts in. The two turn around only to look down at the green eyes of Damian Wayne. His bosses' son and brother. Oh boy.

"Ugh, I'm sorry?" He blinks as the youngest, Wayne thrusts a piece of paper at him. Danny has no choice but to hesitantly takes the paper. On it is a professional if short resume belonging to Damian that highlights his skillset and community service.

"Father has informed me of the family tradition started by our Pennyworth. Every Wayne gets a part-time job from twelve to grow character." The boy says, hands behind him and back straight, appearing every bit his status. Also, it is like a little kid trying to appear as an adult. Danny found it kind of cute, and it reminded him of Jazz. "I have multiple experiences with animals, as you can see from volunteering at the local shelters. My fees for my services are also meager and would surely not be difficult to cover."

Danny's core turned cold, but not in the wrong way. It was a cooling sensation he had associated with a fun day of either a snowball fight or the fresh first fall. He knew he could trust the boy.

"You know what? Yeah I love it if you walked my dog. In fact would you be interested in being a dog sitter?"

The boy's green eyes brightened with childish glee, but he tried to remain serious. Danny's heart melted at the sight. Oh, he should call Jazz soon. "That would be most acceptable."

Unknown to Danny, Karla, or Damian, Dick Grayson watched the trio as his brother handed one of the most mysterious employees a resume. Now, why would Fenton want to be close to Damian?

Over the last few months, people have been trying to take advantage of Damian because they thought his brother stupid for his mixed blood, just as they did when Bruce first took him in.

Danny doesn't mind Alfred's rule to find a part-time job to help teach them values, but he finds people aren't as kind as they should be. He'll have to keep an eye on this Danny Fenton.

Maybe he can help co-sit his dog.

#dcxdpdabbles #dc x dp crossover #Dog walker #part 1 #death defying #Danny is sus for thinking Damain adorable right off the bat #but its because he reminds me him of Jazz

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favvn · 3 months

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Pairing these two scenes together because there's Something about their phrasing that is driving me Insane. (Is it the use of religious imagery turned on its head--purgatory is not a thing to desire much less create for yourself, losing paradise is normally a tragedy to be mourned--to highlight a unifying belief that both Kirk and Spock live by? That both accept the loss of paradise for the uncertainty of life?)

Like. I Know Spock's line about "self-made purgatories" (and what a line! I am gnawing on it like a dog with a bone) is referring both to his Duty to The Enterprise and Kirk as the First Officer vs his experience of love from the plant spores, but it's also referring to him being both human and Vulcan and trying to adhere to one half at the expense of the other and finding himself fitting in nowhere as result (although, I would argue The Enterprise with Kirk is where he fits in as Kirk has consistently shown he doesn't expect Spock to be More Vulcan or More Human but to just be Spock).

And Kirk.... knowing his past on Tarsus IV and how he shouldn't be alive had Kodos had his way.... His dogged determination to beat the odds against him.... Dare I say it's giving Born To Run vibes? The mindset of, "Fine. Paradise is lost, but I'll keep going anyway."

#trekposting #star trek tos #spirk #this side of paradise #good morning! i cannot learn the simple fact that i cannot watch star trek before going to sleep otherwise i start my day like this #spirkposting right out of the gate bright and early #i am thinking more and more about a web weaving post about spirk #putting these two in a jar together for scientific study #i am not only compelled by their relationship in any sense of the word but truly the ways in which these two characters think #trek meta #galaxy brain posting

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lunarlianna · 9 months

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Planets in the 11th house

The Eleventh House, often called the House of Friends, highlights the strength we find in connections. It's about the power of groups, clubs, and organizations that shape our lives. Within these circles, we discover our potential and grow into our true selves. This house also resonates with our dreams and hopes. It encourages us to envision and work towards our best selves. In the Eleventh House, Aquarius, Saturn, and Uranus reign.

The Sun: in the 11th house fuels a drive for elevating group goals, often leading you to influential friendships and a leadership role within communities. Your open-minded and responsible approach aims for positive change, driven by a desire to empower and uplift. Embrace your social influence, using it to make a meaningful impact on the world around you.

The Moon: in the 11th house often brings female friendships and a sense of security through group belonging. Your nurturing instincts find expression in humanitarian pursuits, valuing collective well-being over personal gain. Working for the group's benefit is fulfilling, driven by your empathy and responsiveness to others. Within your career, friendships play a crucial role, shaping opportunities and enduring beyond tasks. Prioritize a sense of belonging to nurture your emotional well-being, guarding against detachment from your feelings.

Mercury: in the 11th House bestows an ingenious, adaptable, and intellectual mind. Achievement revolves around mental prowess. Friendships, especially with younger individuals or diverse perspectives, energize you. You thrive as a communicator within groups, perhaps as a spokesperson or secretary. Your innovative problem-solving talents shine, but seeking intellectual nourishment from your community remains vital for your growth.

Venus: in the 11th House, your friendly and tactful nature attracts a circle of helpful friends. While your nurturing spirit enhances connections, ensure self-care isn't compromised. You radiate grace in group settings, enjoying diverse activities and fostering ease. Your allure for the unique draws you to like-minded souls, creating a harmonious social presence.

Mars: in the 11th House ignites strong desires and leadership qualities, magnetizing energetic and enterprising friendships. Use caution in choosing the right companions, as you may give too much or inadvertently exploit. Active engagement in group pursuits suits you, inclining towards leadership roles. Your loyal and dynamic nature often makes you the go-to friend, embodying the role of the supportive leader within your circle.

Jupiter: in the 11th House, you thrive through social networks and group dynamics, finding success in business and leadership roles. Your charisma and global outlook make you a natural influencer. While your altruistic drive is commendable, keep aspirations within reach, allowing your positive impact to flourish among friends and the community.

Saturn: in the 11th House brings enduring acquaintances and a sense of duty to purposeful groups. You're drawn to serious connections and work diligently for collective goals, often with limited personal recognition. Patience and hard work lead to later rewards. While feeling distinct might bring challenges, value your unique essence without isolating yourself. Prioritize quality over quantity, nurturing close bonds while overcoming the fear of exclusion.

Uranus: in the 11th House signifies intuitive originality and a strong creative streak, driven by humanitarian ideals. Unconventional friendships with like-minded individuals are common, though you may seem aloof at times. Your rebellious spirit and reformative tendencies stand out, advocating constructive change. Embrace your unique essence, attracting those who resonate with your radical perspectives. Your path is meant to diverge from the ordinary, inspiring transformation.

Neptune: in the 11th House can blur boundaries between self and group, seeking acceptance and compassion within collective ideals. While enjoying group immersion, remember the distinct energy it holds. Your dual nature lets you perceive hidden dynamics, even amid the allure of unity. Empathy guides you, understanding the fine balance between individuality and collective purpose. Cultivate healthy boundaries to avoid being exploited while staying true to your compassionate connections.

Pluto: in the 11th House grants keen awareness of power dynamics within groups, triggering a cautious approach. Sensing motivations and avoiding exploitation becomes second nature. While this can be draining, it shapes a close-knit circle of trusted friends. You may shy away from institutions or new acquaintances due to trust issues. Reconnect with your heart, embrace your uniqueness, and nurture genuine connections that rekindle your spirit.

#astro observations #astro community #astro placements #astrology #all signs #astro notes #for you #asteroid #zodiac placements #astrologer

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overseer-picard · 1 year

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The commentary from Jonathan Frakes and Marina Sirtis on the Blu-ray version of "Insurrection" is genuinely one of the funniest things I've listened to.

Highlights include:

Marina openly admitting she hasn't watched the movie since the premiere and constantly asking things like "What's that? What's he doing? What's happening?" and Jonathan just patiently explaining the entire plot to her.

“And I played Commander Riker, Picard’s big Willy.” -Jonathan introducing himself

*regarding the non-regular actors in alien makeup* Jonathan: “They didn’t know what they signed up for.” Marina: “I know, poor things.”

constant dragging of their costars throughout.

Marina: “Who’s idea was it that Patrick sing?” Jonathan: “Michael Pillar (writer)” Marina: “Really? Had he ever HEARD Patrick sing?”

"Patrick managed to get his shirt open again, he's got his guns out."- Jonathan

*regarding Worf's Klingon pimple* Marina: "What is that pimple on his face?" Jonathan: "It's a gorch, Marina! Listen to the dialogue!"

Calling Picard "Cappy", Brent Spiner "Brento", Worf "Big, dumb, stupid Worf", and F. Murray Abraham "Fmurr"

"Lookin' a little shiny there, Patrick. Was it a hot day?"- Marina

*silently watching the Son'a ship fly through space* Marina: "...Well that's not the Enterprise."

*regarding Data* “He’s so smart. He knows things.”- Jonathan

*watching Data emerge from a lake* Marina: "Why's his hair dry?" Jonathan: "He's an android." Marina: "Why's his costume dry?" Jonathan: "He's an android."

Jonathan, groaning in disgust at a scene with some children: "This is cloying."

Wheezing fits of laughter throughout

If you need a hefty dose of serotonin injected directly into your brain, I highly suggest watching this. Plus, if you listen closely, there are even some interesting tidbits about the production of the movie.

#star trek #star trek the next generation #Jonathan frakes #marina sirtis #star trek insurrection

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robfinancialtip · 4 months

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youtube

🌟 Evgeniya Radilova's journey of self-discovery and entrepreneurial desire serves as an inspiration for those seeking fulfillment in their careers. Her realization that she needed to shift focus from performing to business was a motivational moment, driven by her desire for an enterprise that resonated with her soul. Evgeniya's story highlights the power of introspection and seeking advice from her "angels," ultimately leading to the creation of a business aligned with her values and ambitions. ✨

🎭 Starting with her background in performance and entertainment, Evgeniya's engagement in "wildfire performance and whips" served as motivation for her company's growth. Through dedication and hard work, she built a business focused on delivering entertainment services, showcasing her entrepreneurial spirit and proactive attitude. Her journey is an inspirational blend of inventiveness and practicality, demonstrating how passion and perseverance can lead to the realization of goals. 💼

🚀 Evgeniya's emphasis on her achievement in business development is motivational, showing the impact of dedication and perseverance. Her ability to book performers "all over town" and organize engaging events speaks to her entrepreneurial drive and commitment to success. As she transitions from acting to entrepreneurship, Evgeniya's tale of change and empowerment inspires others to embrace new opportunities, find joy in their pursuits, and create possibilities for themselves and those around them in the entertainment sector. 🌈

#Youtube

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dustykneed · 4 months

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once again this is the funniest if you think of it as pre-mcspirk spirk and bones. you're james tiberius kirk, captain of the starship enterprise, and your best friend breaks into your quarters after a long shift and passes out on your couch. your first officer boyfriend also breaks into your quarters after his shift and discovers your best friend passed out dead to the world on your couch and deems it most logical to take off his shirt and take your own shirt (worn) off its rack and drape it over your best friend's sleeping form because leonard's forehead was insufficiently warm and humans obtain the best quality of sleep when sufficiently warm and surrounded by familiar scents.

you get off shift and discover your quarters have been doubly broken into and you think this is the absolute highlight of your day. you tiptoe painstakingly to the couch just to kiss your best friend on the forehead and then go and kiss your boyfriend hello. (in six months' time it will hit you for the first serious time that perhaps both of them are your boyfriend and best friend. what a revelation!) both you and your boyfriend do not realise that he has started referring to your best friend as "ours".

...

even though it's not overtly shown in the scribble it is absolutely inundated with this prompt in my heart (and the word dump) so i'm just going to go ahead and say this is a prompt fill for @mcspirkevents' mcspirk bingo prompt "denial" ^^

3 down !!! hell yeah 🩵💙💛

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tiredofsatansbullshit · 2 years

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Wayne Family Social Media - The Waynes on Twitter Masterpost

IThe Waynes Profiles

1 - The butts match

1.5 - The butts match

2 - Tim Drake, CEO of Wayne Enterprises, is told he needs to be "more professional" on Twitter. He disagrees and choses chaos instead

3 - Confession time

4 - Batman has a sugar daddy?

5 - Tim Drake-Wayne/Sleep , 20k words, slowburn, angst, enemies to lovers

6 - Batkids tweet highlights

7 - Red Hood and Arsenal

8 - Bruce Wayne, Dick Grayson-Wayne and Jason Todd-Wayne read your thirst tweets

9 - Duke gets verified!!!

10 - How Damian deals with online hate

11 - Private Account tweet highlights

12 - Batkids tweet highlights 2

13 - The Wayne’s decide to be chaotic on Twitter

14 - Bullying Lex Luthor, a family bonding experience

15 - Batkids tweet highlights 3

16 - Private account tweet highlights 2

17 - Love triangles are OUT, time for a love square

18 - Wayne kids being gay on twitter

19 - The Wayne kids interactions with Gotham’s rogues

20 - Human Disaster Tim Drake-Wayne

21 - Bats and friends

22 - Human Disaster Dick Grayson-Wayne

23 - Siblings, am I right?

24 - Human Disaster Stephanie Brown

25 - Human Disaster Cassandra Wayne

26 - So about that coffin

27 - Human Disaster Duke Thomas

28 - Human Disaster Bruce Wayne

29 - Human Disaster Damian Wayne

30 - Human Disaster Jason Wayne

31 - Disaster Family: The Waynes

32 - The Bats are ever so slightly unhinged (lie)

33 - Manors haunted.

34 - Broose

35 - The Waynes really just say things

36 - This is me admitting defeat. I cannot keep on thinking of names of chapters.

37 - The (older) batkids have nailed this social media thing if you ask me

38 - Dickie, are you okay?

39 - The struggles of being a (really rich) single parent

40 - *Squints at writing on palm* The Wames everybody!

41 - These are Bruce's 'babies' btw

42 - Bruce is high (on painkillers), what could go wrong?

43 - *chuckling awkwardly* uh what

44 - the waynes are suffering but not really

45 - this is so healthy of them… also, the wayne’s are a category on twitter??

46 - Bruce and his exes

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squirmhoney · 1 year

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A Lesson Learnt

(Part Two of What he’s owed)

A/N: I didn’t even think I’d write a part 2 but here we are. Also I said I’d never write anal but here I am writing it and I actually thoroughly enjoyed the way it turned out. As always please read the warnings. Warnings: Yandere! Dick Grayson. Non con. Dub Con. Anal. Smut. Dacrayphilia. Hostage situation. 18+ Minors DNI Pairing: Dick Grayson x Reader Word count: 3.3k+

Wayne Enterprise technology had always fascinated you since being in the manor. While you had never taken an interest in becoming a vigilante, you thought you could see yourself working for Wayne Enterprise one day. But if Dick had any say in it, you sure you'd be house bound for the rest of eternity.

As the days had gone on, Dick had practically turned you into his personal sex slave. And the advanced technology that once fascinated you, didn't any longer. Instead you looked at it with a deep hatred and anger as it now had been used against you in one of the most cruelest ways. The black anklet laughing at you humourlessly as it bound you to the four walls of Dick Grayson's room.

In one way you were glad that he hadn't just hand cuffed you to his bed, at least giving you the freedom to walk around the bedroom and access to the en-suite. But he still had you as his hostage or as you liked to call it "his personal sex doll." As much as Dick adored that term, telling you that he knew how much you loved it, he also liked to tell you that you were more than that to him. You were everything to him.

But you just couldn't see it.

However, you couldn't deny the worry that etched in your stomach every time he came back more bruised than the night before. Or the fear that after every argument before he left your bedroom doors might be your last and you regretted to leave him in on such terms.

And because of that, you begun to hate yourself more than you ever hated Dick. But you'd never allow these feelings to show, burying them deep every time he walked through those bedroom doors. The only time you became vulnerable was after a few rounds in bed, being pushed to the point of a sobbing mess on top of him. Then you'd cling to him like your life depended on it, not wanting him to ever go.

A hand cupped your face, stirring out of your sleep as a voice followed it, "My pretty fuck doll all tucked up in bed for me."

"I'm tired," you murmured, trying to snuggle back into the comfort of the bed. You knew Dick wouldn't listen, he never did but you tried every time anyway. "Let me sleep, please."

"Baby, don't test me tonight," his voice was rough, coming out as a harsh warning that had your stomach churning. "You have until I get these clothes off me to be on top of those bed sheets."

"No."

Dick chuckled but there was no smile that met his lips, only a dark gaze that lingered on your form under his sheets. He was quick to tear his clothes off, letting each item drop to the floor with a slight thud, giving you time to be ready for him.

But you were being disobedient as always.

"I think you like how mean I can be to you," Dick hummed, crawling over the bed sheets towards you. His hand wrapped around your throat, not enough to hurt but enough to draw your attention so you turned to him. "Are you going to be good for me tonight?"

Even with your eyes open you could barely see him in the dark room but you didn't miss how the moon hit off his shoulders, highlighting the new bruise there. You grimaced at the sight, eyes softening and you knew he noticed.

"Worried about me, are we?" A smirk settled onto his lips, grip on your throat loosening. "You know how you can make me feel better."

"Dick, please," you pleaded. "Just give me a break tonight."

"But then who's going to make my dick wet tonight," Dick purred into the subtle skin of your neck. "Be a good girl for me and you'll get treated like one."

Dick looked over you, hand lifting from your throat as he used both arms to cage you in. He smiled when you shuddered underneath him, admiring the way goosebumps covered you arms in slight fear. He knew even with how much you wanted to deny it, there'd be a pool waiting for him between your thighs.

"I thought we agreed you didn't need to wear clothes in my bed," he tutted, tugging at the edge of his t-shirt you were wearing. Within a second it was off, ripped from your body and behind him in a pile with the rest of his clothes. "Much better."

Of course you were still going to wear clothes, wanting to keep the one last shred of dignity you had in this room. Otherwise you would of admitted defeat and that isn't something you were so easily willing to do.

His knee pushed your thighs open, making it easier for him to manoeuvre himself between your legs. With how close he was getting to your core, you could feel the tears already brimming in your eyes, embarrassed with knowing how wet he already made you. You couldn't help the way your body reacted to him, you couldn't even begin to understand it yourself.

"I don't want to do this tonight," your voice was desperate as your hands came out to push him away. "Please."

Next thing you knew was your hands were pinned above your head, Dick hovering his face above yours as he frowned. His pupils completely blown out as he stared at you, making you turn away.

"I'm sorry," you were quick to mutter out, lips quivering at the thought of what was about to happen.

"I gave you a chance, don't say I didn't."

"I'll be good."

"I warned you enough already, looks like you need to learn."

Dick shoved your thighs apart, hand reaching down to slap across your pussy. He chuckled at the way you bucked your hips and gasped, repeating the action again but specifically to your puffy clit.

"At least you remembered not to wear any panties this time."

It was mortifying when he brought his fingers up in front of you, showing you how they were already coated in your juices. He pushed them into his mouth, humming in sweet delight at the taste.

"Such a mess for me."

His fingers reached back down, forcing their way into your walls to make sure you were fully stretched for him. You could feel the coolness of one of his rings entering you and you couldn't help yourself as you bucked your hips towards him. If there was one thing Dick Grayson knew how to do right, that was how to massage your walls. Whether it was his fingers or his dick, he'd have you a whorish mess for him in no time.

"Oh Dick," you whimpered when his fingers slid out of you.

"Don't worry pretty thing, I'm still going to take care of you," he chuckled menacingly, flipping you over onto your stomach. His hands moulded you into place so easily, having your face stuffed into his pillows and your back in that perfect arch. "See you know exactly what you're doing, Princess."

That nickname made your stomach churn, feeling the bile rise at your throat. He used to call you that when you first moved in, making sure you felt like a Princess in these walls and he was supposed to be your knight. But really he had been your captor in disguise and it made you wonder how long he had been praying on you for.

His fingers slid across your folds, gathering your slick and spreading it. You felt his thumb slide past your entrance, running over your other hole making you twist your head back to look at him.

"We definitely have to play with this hole sometime soon," Dick said, thumb circling the rim of it. "I bet you'd enjoy this. I know I would."

Without warning he pushed his thumb into you, making you wince at the intrusion not being at all prepared for it. You tried to wriggle away, not comfortable with the way it felt but he wasn't having any of it. His free hand held your hips in place, grip tightening to keep you still.

"Stay still for me and I'll make it feel better," he directed you, using more of your wetness to loosen you up. You grinded down on your teeth at the pressure, your hand even gripping onto the head board in front of you. "It'll ease up in a second just stay fucking still."

You were whimpering now, shoving your head into the pillows to hide your noises. You never even thought about doing this but of course Dick wanted every part of you he could take, not happy till he had conquered your whole body.

Like he said, it eased up eventually. The lube of your own slick being worked in help it open up and the feeling had your walls clenching down for some sort of needed release. One that Dick was too eager to give.

Dick's tip prodded against you, gathering wetness before poking at your entrance. With his thumb still inside your other hole, Dick pushed himself into your cunt, making sure to bottom out. And you really couldn't deny how close you could feel yourself to your orgasm, the new pressure building something new inside of you.

"Dick," you let out in a harsh breath, needing his attention.

"You're okay, baby," he groaned, sliding his free hand across your back. "It's all okay."

His thrusts inside you were slow, painfully slow. But with the way his thick cock filled you had you clenching around him, mewling like some sort of bitch in heat.

And he was loving every filthy second of it.

"Dick I'm gunna- I'm-" you gasped, hands clawing at the material of the sheets underneath you. Your legs trembled violently, orgasm approaching and you felt your head spinning with how intense you were feeling.

"I've got you, baby."

His words had you creaming around his cock, the most dirtiest sound being torn from your throat as you climaxed. Your eyes rolled to the back of your head and your legs completely gave out from underneath you. Dick had to place a hand underneath your hips, holding you in position as you rode your high out.

"See how I take care of you."

He slid a second finger in, making you wince as he stretched your asshole open. You could tell what he was doing and as much you wanted to refuse him this, you knew he'd take it from you whether you were okay with it or not.

"Dick it's too much," you cried, letting out harsh breaths as his fingers and dick worked in your separate holes. "S'too much."

"This is what brats like you get," Dick groaned from above you, rolling his hips into yours. "If you had just been good, I would have gone easy on you. Now it's all about what I want and what I really want is to cum in this hole." He shoved his fingers in deep, chuckling at how you tensed at the feeling.

Even though you were stuck in a daze from the way Dick was drilling into you, you were still paralysed in fear at what he was about to do to you.

His fingers slid out of you with a quiet pop, making you feel slightly empty and gaping for him. His hands grabbed your ass cheeks, spreading them apart in the most unholy way.

"Be a good girl for me and listen to what I say."

"Okay," you said so obediently.

"That's a good girl, keep this up and I'll make sure to be good to you tomorrow."

You couldn't see him but you could tell Dick was grinning proudly down at you, probably staring at the mess between your cheeks like some possessed man. The worst part was you wanted to see what he looked like, wanted to admire how he looked at you. And you despised yourself for it, making you feel more disgusted at yourself than you had ever felt before him. You were becoming sick for him, being moulded into his personal sex slave the more he fucked you dumb on his cock.

When his cock slid out of your cunt, you whined for him, only to gasp suddenly as his tip poked at your other hole. While Dick was your first, and probably the only person you'd ever be with, you knew he was big. Having nothing to compare him to didn't make his size any less daunting. He was thick and long, a stretch every time he entered your cunt and you were honestly confused at how he thought he was ever going to fit into your ass.

But when Dick set his mind to something, there wasn't anything that was going to stop him. You knew that a little too well.

"Breathe for me."

You listened to him, trying to breath through your shakiness as you felt himself breeching your hole but it was a struggle. When his tip slipped in, you were all tense, fighting against the sensation to have him inside of you. With that he pulled out, a huff leaving his lips and you could sense he was getting agitated with your behaviour.

"When I say breathe, I mean fucking breathe. Relax for me or it's going to be more painful than pleasurable for you," his voice came out from a deep growl in his chest, letting you know how he serious he was being.

He had never been mean to you before that night, only ever showing you his caring side as he took care of you. You hated how he could change, sometimes wishing he would revert back to his soft side. But at least this way you could differentiate it as two different people. And with the way he fucked you most of the time, relentless and uncaring, you needed to differentiate him from the man you once saw as a protector and in ways a brother.

It was easier that way.

"It hurts," you cried, body trembling at his harsh words.

"I know," he was all soft again, hand rubbing your back to ease you up. Your stomach stirred at this, feeling yourself relax at his warm touch. "It'll be okay, just take steady breaths."

You did, taking deep inhale and exhales as you felt him press his tip against your hole again. He nudged himself in you further, pulling out and repeating until your walls eased to accommodate his size. Once he managed to push himself all the way in, he was groaning at the sensation, throbbing inside of you. While you were gasping, trying to catch your breath as you bit down on your tongue.

"Touch your pussy for me," Dick demanded, taking your hand that was gripping at the sheets. He placed it between your thighs, guiding it to your clit as he applied pressure there. "Trust me on this one."

And you did, fingers rubbing circles into your clit. While you took care of yourself there, Dick got lost in the feeling of his cock in the tightness of your new hole. He couldn't even hide how good it was making him feel, moaning as he thrusted himself inside of you.

Oh, you really wished to see him now.

His hands on your cheeks were used as leverage as he started to pick up the pace, becoming feral behind you. Your vision was so blurry from the tears and the haze he had you in, you really felt like you could pass out from it all.

"Dick," you let out inbetween the most lewdest noises, your fingers pressing harder into your clit. "I think- I-" You could barely speak in coherent sentences and Dick was probably clueless to what you were saying. But Dick could sense how he was making you feel, seeing how you were so close again.

"See how I'm taking such care of you," Dick grunted in a heavy breath, grip on your cheeks becoming bruising as he held onto you. "I can feel how good I make you feel, Princess."

You clenched down, hard. The word hitting some nerve that you really didn't like.

"Like it when I call you that," Dick hummed. "Princess."

"Please, no," you pleaded really wishing you wouldn't come to him calling you that. It was too messed up for you to fathom, you didn't want to think this was your sweet Dick, you needed to picture him as a different person. "Don't call me that. Not that."

"But I like the way your walls hold me when I do," Dick admitted, thrusting just a little bit harder. "Princess."

You lost it, clamping down on him in the midst of it all. Your fingers worked in a messy pace, hand becoming shaky as you continued to rub yourself. You could feel yourself dripping onto the bed at how intense your orgasm was and you felt deeply embarrassed with the moans that were being ripped from the back of your throat.

"Fuck that's it," Dick's voice was unrecognisable from behind you, a crumbling mess himself as your orgasm sent him over the edge. He hunched over you, abs pressed to your back as they tensed and untensed as he came inside of you. Your walls were practically milking him and you could feel each spurt of cum fill your hole.

He made sure to empty his balls completely, with a few sloppy thrusts and slipped out of you as he rolled to the side. You could feel his cum dripping out of you and down your thighs, making you feel like some sort of used toy. And you hated that feeling because you found yourself a teary eyed mess crawling over to him.

Usually his arms would be open and ready to take you in, holding you to his chest. But Dick was visibly shaking from the orgasm he just had, breathing still ragged as he looked up at the ceiling.

"Dick," you let out in a choked cry, grabbing his attention.

Dick's eyes widened at you, almost forgetting you were there in his fucked up state but as soon as he saw those wet eyes, he softened again. He grabbed you, pulling you onto his chest so he could hold you against him. His hand caressed your back, fingers tickling your subtle skin.

You nestled your face into his neck, hands grabbing at his biceps to cling onto him. A pathetic mess.

Without warning Dick's hand came full force against your ass cheek, making you sob even harder into him.

"Dick, please," you begged him, feeling your nails dig in as you felt more of his cum spill out of you.

You were sure he could feel it to, probably dripping onto his toned stomach underneath you.

"Can we please rest now?" You were all choked up, hoping he would take it easy on you.

"I'm sorry, Princess," he started saying, fingers now toying with the cum between your cheeks. "But if you had just played nice like I asked you then I would of taken it easy."

"I'm sorry."

You feel how smug he was against you, adoring how vulnerable he could make you with just his dick. There was no way he was going to let you up tonight with the way your voice was making his cock harden all over again.

His fingers pinched at your chin, pulling your face up to look at his. You couldn't ignore the deep contrast in your teary eyed expression to his cheesy smirk, it made you feel heated the way he liked dominating you like this.

"How about this? If you be a good for me for the rest of the night, I'll let you have more of a lie in tomorrow." His smile widened as he thought of something else, pinching your chin even harder. "And I'll even eat you out for breakfast."

God, he was sick.

But so were you as you nodded in agreement, taking all he would give you.

"See look at you learning so quickly." His lips were shoved against yours, sliding his tongue into your mouth as he spoke, "That's a good fuck doll."

#yandere dick grayson #yandere dick Grayson x reader #yandere nightwing #yandere nightwing x reader #dick Grayson x reader #dick grayson smut

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hopecomesbacktolife · 3 months

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recently read the time magazine special edition “Star Trek: inside the most influential science fiction series ever” a good portion of it is stuff a lot of fans probably already know, but there was some info in there that was still new to me, and lots of gorgeous photos that were amazing to see in print, too, so still definitely an enjoyable read! (apart from a couple instances of weirdly superiority, bro-esque writing, but that only occurred in one of the articles, thankfully)

one thing I really enjoyed about the visual aspect of the magazine though was some of the costuming visuals! For example, these crisp shots show not only the tailoring and seams but literally the construction and stitching on the TMP era uniforms 😍😍 (check out the stitching on the sleeve ranks in particular!!!)

next up, some extremely cool science things I didn’t know about and love that they exist:

this shot is excellent both for De fans (me) and also for seamstresses and costumers (also me!) because of that excellent, and rare, shot of the back of a TOS women’s uniform with seams and construction visible… positively a seamstress dream!! such a good garment structuring reference 👏🏻

also, an up close on one of Quark’s outfits that shows definitively that this outerwear jacket is, in fact, rainbowy tweed!!, a fashion statement I vote we bring back:

(it reminds me of this couch and blanket from my childhood, it was extremely 1970s and I loved it)

this little Kirk & Spock character comparison panel appeared next to an excerpt of Shatner’s writing, and to me it would fit in perfectly with those “who’s dating who” activity panels etc in magazines like seventeen, which, excellent execution, that’s such a good vibe to have considering The Premise 👏🏻

speaking of— I wish they’d mentioned slash fic, The Premise, early fanfic mail chains etc waaay more than they did (and for that matter, highlight way more just how important and vital the women Trekkies were!) but hey, at least they mentioned Spirk shippers, along with other parts of the magazine mentioning queer and nonbinary+trans rep in trek. could’ve/should’ve been more, but—

anyways! It’s still a fun magazine to read through and has lots of fun images even if you’re already familiar with the stories. (did you know there used to be an Enterprise shaped landline phone you could buy? I didn’t, and now I very much want one lol) it also highly benefits from having article writers of multiple genders, so there’s that, too. 🖖🏻

#star trek #time magazine #cool things!#book quotes #sorta #special time edition #honorary tag of #spirk #as well #for the gossip column vibes of that one part that I absolutely love hehe #deck that one out in glitter and sequin hearts and it would make an excellent bookmark for reading killing time 1st edition with hehe ♡#art #<< tag for cosplay reference

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riddlemethis-or-riddlemethat · 18 days

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Hello! If u don't mind i would like to req Tom Riddle x m!reader where reader is an exchange student and surprise surprise he's a parselmouth! So let's say, speaking with animals r common on where he live, n obviously Tom was intrigued

U can do anything w this prompt, sfw, nswf, whatever! I js need to feed my TR brainrot

omg yes!! this is a brilliant idea!!! thank you for requesting, I love this prompt so much

the TR brainrot is so real😔

I made the reader confident, because I felt like they would be interesting to someone as narcissistic as Tom, and he'd probably feel more curious about the new boy who seems so oddly comfortable in what should be this new, unfamiliar environment.

hope you enjoy!

tags: x male reader, kinda ooc Tom? (not really though, this is how I imagine he would act around others at Hogwarts, seeing as he was supposed to be charming and perfect, you know?), suggestive thoughts (Tom has pretty interesting thoughts about reader 😏), cocky!reader, use of y/n, not beta-read

word count: 1564

Fresh Face - TR x male!Slytherin!reader

The Great Hall buzzed with chatter, friends catching up after the holidays, first-years being welcomed to their new houses, excitement and general anticipation for the new year. Tom sat, surrounded by his friends, making idle small talk with a pleasant smile painted on his face.

Suddenly, McGonagall stood at the podium, gesturing for silence. A respectful hush fell over the Hall as people broke off their conversations to tune in.

Some keen individuals began to notice that the Sorting Hat was still out. Other even more observant students noticed the figure stood off the side of McGonagall. Some particularly enterprising students made the connection between these two observations, and concluded that this figure was a new student, about to be sorted.

But that still left the question: why was he separated from the first years?

Only one specific student, Tom, noticed that the figure was a young boy, around his age, who stood with confidence and a calmness that was odd for someone clearly in an unfamiliar environment. Tom also noticed that the boy was dressed in brand new school robes, unmarked but pressed and proper, high quality and perfectly tailored, highlighting the boy’s long legs and muscular chest and strong thighs and-.

Tom moved on.

He noticed more. He noticed movement.

Movement?

Yes, right there, on the boy’s shoulders, around his neck (and what a lovely neck it was, Tom wanted to know what it would look like bruised and with his hands wrapped around it-). A dark, sleek thing, winding about the boy, a small, narrow head, a flicking tongue...

A snake?

Tom watched, in curiosity, as the snake shifted, pressing its face close to the boy's ear, hissing something Tom couldn’t hear, too far away. He watched, in shock, as the boy chuckled, slanting a gaze towards the snake and rolling his eyes (Godric, what Tom wouldn’t give to see those gorgeous eyes roll for another reason-).

Bloody hell, what was with him today, these cursed thoughts were getting out of hand.

Tom watched, intrigued and definitely not obsessively so, as the boy (a parseltongue?), turned back to the podium, attention back on Professor McGonagall, who had finished her speech.

Tom was ashamed to realise he had heard absolutely none of it, and he could only watch as McGonogall turned to the mysterious boy, calling him up.

“Y/n Y/l/n, if you could please come up.” McGonagall called out.

Well, at least he knew his name.

Tom watched as the boy strode up the stage, nodding politely at Professor McGonagall, a small gesture of respect and deference that detracted nothing from his confidence. The snake was still on the boy's shoulders, mostly hidden by the boy’s robes.

The boy, Y/n, sat down on the chair, elegant and comfortable, waiting as McGonagall placed the hat on his head. Y/n’s eyes slipped shut for a moment, a small smirk spread across his face as he opened them again, a loud declaration of “Slytherin!” ringing out across the Great Hall from the old hat.

Tom found that a small, barely noticeable twitch had occurred on his own lips, tugging them slightly upward in a mirror of Y/n’s smirk. Tom quickly reigned in his features, unfortunately not before Mattheo, his younger brother, noticed it, a teasing smirk spreading across his face, an expression promising misery later.

Suddenly, gasps rang out across the Great Hall, and Tom watched in awe as the boy gracefully stood from the seat, each movement powerful and controlled. That wasn’t what the mindless fools about him were gasping at, however. They were gaping at the beautiful, gorgeous snake on Y/n’s shoulders, uncurling from where it was looped about his neck, baring its head and hissing out at the crowd.

“Look at these idiots.”

Tom raised a brow at the snake’s rather offensive comment.

Y/n chuckled, a hand lifting to stroke at the snake’s head, a languid smirk on his face as he walked off the stage, joining the Slytherin table amidst hesitant cheers and staggered applause.

“I know, Nyx, I know. But it’s rather funny isn’t it?”

Tom could barely hold back the smirk as he heard your response.

“I suppose...”

Tom grunted in surprise, glaring at Mattheo, who had elbowed him in the ribs, and at Theo and Enzo, who were snickering behind their hands and avoiding his gaze by collapsing into each other.

“What’s got you gawking, Tommy?” Mattheo asked, a cocky smirk on his face as he avoided Tom’s retaliation.

“None of your business.”

“Aww come on, don’t be like that Tommy. I’m your little brother, it’s practically my duty to make it my business.”

Tom scowled, swatting at Mattheo’s head and slapping him, hard.

Mattheo whined, rubbing his head and glaring at Tom.

“You’re mean. And your boy is staring at you.”

Tom was embarrassed at how quickly he turned his head, the tips of his ear flushing slightly and a scowl fixing on his face as Mattheo cackled with Theo and Enzo, laughing at him.

All thoughts of revenge and fratricide were chased out of his mind as he looked at you, your (beautiful, merlin) eyes already staring at him, meeting in a thrilling clash of wills.

The snake, Nyx, flicks its tongue, looking at Tom assessingly.

A shame you were seated so far, Tom had no means of speaking with you right now. Whatever, he was a Prefect, and in your new house. He’d find time.

You smiled passively before turning away, paying attention to the young boy engaging you in conversation.

Tom, too, turned back to his brother and friends, scowl returning as he watched them falling over each other and howling with laughter.

****

You were reading peacefully in the common room, catching up on topics covered at Hogwarts your old school hadn’t covered, when you felt a presence approaching you, and the cold nose of Nyx, your pet snake, pressing against your neck. You look up, seeing Tom Riddle, Slytherin’s perfect prince, heading towards you.

You slid a bookmark into your textbook, marking the page before closing it and setting it aside. As Tom approaches you, he smiles pleasantly, eyes calculating as he greets you.

“Y/l/n, right? Nice to meet you, I’m Tom Riddle, the Slytherin prefect.” He extends a hand, elegant, pale, and slender. You take it, shaking it in yours and noting how cool it was to the touch in contrast to your own warmth.

“Yes, nice to meet you, Riddle.”

Nyx raises her head, peering at Tom.

“Hello, speaker.” she hisses, and you turn to the snake, brows lifting in surprise. You had been warned that Hogwarts had no speakers.

“Hello, I am Tom Riddle, what is your name?” Tom speaks back, calm and collected.

“Nyx. You seem more intelligent than the buffoons around us.”

You laugh, fond amusement at your snake’s discontent with the lack of intellect surrounding you.

“Sorry about her, she’s crabby about the move.” You hiss, speaking to Tom as you pet Nyx’s smooth scales.

“I was told there were no speakers at Hogwarts. That it was considered... Dark arts.” you speak, tone questioning as you raise a brow at Tom, your eyes appraising.

He just smirks, his eyes equally calculating. “It is considered Dark, yes. And no-one but my closest friends and trusted know of me. You are quite bold to have revealed your... talents, so readily to the whole school, Y/l/n.”

Tom was intrigued, fascinated, curious even. (obsessed~ sings a voice in the back of Tom’s head that sound suspiciously like Mattheo)

“They can’t do anything about me, and I refused to leave Nyx lonely and unattended.” you shrug, smiling at Tom.

“You’re a stubborn one, aren’t you?” Tom raises his brow, smirking at you.

You smirk at him as you pick up your book, standing and walking past him to your dorm room.

“I’ll see you around, Riddle.” You call out over your shoulder.

Tom chuckles to himself as you walk away (and salazar, that ass-), before turning away to return to his dorm for the night.

The minute he walked into the dorm, he was greeted by jeering and snickering from all fronts, Mattheo, Lorenzo, Theodore, the assholes three.

He ignored the hollering of the three idiots, and strode into the en suite bathroom, showering and getting ready for bed.

When he stepped out of the bathroom, it was to be met with Mattheo and Theo looping arms around his shoulders and walking him over to their bed, one either side, and Lorenzo sprawled on his bed, laughing his head off as the Theo-duo menaces traded matching smirks and launched into a merciless interrogation and endless teasing.

****

After substantial ribbing and general bullying from all three fronts, and Mattheo being dramatic and snuggling with Theo and Lorenzo cooing over him in a bed together after Tom hexed him, Tom settled into his own bed, his eyes slipping shut as he systematically went through the memories of his day, filing them away as was demanded.

Eventually, he fell into his memories of you.

Y/n Y/l/n.

Parseltongue, exchange student, smart, snarky, confident. (hot, gorgeous, delicious-)

Curiouser and curiouser.

Tom smirked to himself as he crafted a new room in his mind, one just for you.

He fell asleep with one thought in his mind.

This was going to be interesting.

****

Word Count: 1564

I might do a continuation of this eventually, it's a great idea! thank you so much for the request @prettorett I hope you enjoy this!

🥰🥰

tag: @helendeath this is the fic haha

#tom marvolo riddle #tom riddle #slytherin boys #my fic #fanfic #x male reader #male y/n #tom riddle x male reader #lorenzo berkshire #theodore nott #mattheo riddle #reader insert #tom riddle x y/n #tom riddle x reader

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izicodes · 1 year

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Harvard University Free IT Courses | Resources ✨

While scrolling through Twitter, I saw some posts that highlighted some free IT courses and resources being offered by Harvard University! Harvard University offers a wide range of IT courses that are available to the public for free! Here are some of them!

1. Introduction to Computer Science - LINK

An introduction to the intellectual enterprises of computer science and the art of programming.

2. Web Programming with Python and JavaScript - LINK

This course dives more deeply into the design and implementation of web apps with Python, JavaScript, and SQL using frameworks like Django, React, and Bootstrap.

3. Mobile App Development with React Native - LINK

Learn about mobile app development with React Native, a popular framework maintained by Facebook that enables cross-platform native apps using JavaScript without Java or Swift.

4. Introduction to Game Development - LINK

Learn about the development of 2D and 3D interactive games in this hands-on course, as you explore the design of games such as Super Mario Bros., Pokémon, Angry Birds, and more.

5. Introduction to Artificial Intelligence with Python - LINK

Learn to use machine learning in Python in this introductory course on artificial intelligence.

Hope this helps someone and do check them out! 💻👍🏾💗

#resources #codeblr #progblr #studyblr #studying #coding #programming #comp sci #programmer #computer science #student #study life #coding resources #coding study #online learning #online study #free courses #courses

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arcadian-litterateur · 4 months

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sick of kissing you in my head (when can it be real instead?) | modern au!gally x fem!reader

masterlist

summary: your boyfriend, gally, is across the country, and despite the struggles a long distance relationship can bring, your love is strong enough to carry you through the long distance season of your relationship. but spending your birthday without him is different than spending normal days separated, and you know deep down that nothing will make you happy on your birthday when he’s all you need.

word count: 8k holy—i really didn’t even realize how long this was till i checked the wc omg

warnings: emotional meltdown, mention of anxiety and anxiety meds, brief mention of panic attacks

a/n: hey guys! i love love love the song this is based off of: all i need (the distance song) by avery lynch. it's such a good song. this was supposed to just be fluff about visiting your bf gally, and then it turned into a whole thing lol. so yeah, i hope you guys enjoy this long ass one shot. i really really enjoyed writing it.

“𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘪𝘵’𝘴 𝘩𝘢𝘳𝘥 𝘣𝘦𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘩𝘦𝘳𝘦 𝘩𝘢𝘭𝘧 𝘦𝘮𝘱𝘵𝘺 𝘸𝘩𝘦𝘯 𝘴𝘰𝘮𝘦𝘸𝘩𝘦𝘳𝘦 𝘥𝘪𝘧𝘧𝘦𝘳𝘦𝘯𝘵 𝘪𝘴 𝘮𝘺 𝘧𝘢𝘷𝘰𝘳𝘪𝘵𝘦 𝘱𝘢𝘳𝘵 𝘰𝘧 𝘮𝘦. 𝘪𝘧 𝘪 𝘤𝘰𝘶𝘭𝘥 𝘫𝘶𝘴𝘵 𝘩𝘰𝘭𝘥 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘧𝘰𝘳 𝘳𝘦𝘢𝘭, 𝘵𝘩𝘢𝘵’𝘴 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘰𝘯𝘭𝘺 𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘪’𝘭𝘭 𝘯𝘦𝘦𝘥. 𝘣𝘢𝘣𝘺, 𝘵𝘩𝘢𝘵’𝘴 𝘢𝘭𝘭 𝘪 𝘯𝘦𝘦𝘥.”

𝗥𝗢𝗟𝗟𝗜𝗡𝗚 𝗢𝗩𝗘𝗥 onto my side, legs brushing against my sheets, I smile at the FaceTime call on my phone, but it's bittersweet. On the other end of the video call sits my boyfriend, the soft smile on his face mirroring my own. From where he sits, I can see the San Francisco skyline out his hotel window, highlighted by the rising sun.

“I miss you,” I mumble, studying the lines and contours of his face and wondering if they've changed since the last time I saw him in person. If I've missed any change; any detail while we've been separated. If anything has changed or tipped the balance since we've been apart.

I'm not insecure in my relationship with Gally, but be long distance for enough time and everyone gets in their head about it. Catches themselves wondering; doubting.

“I miss you more every time we have to part,” I add, watching the bitter take over the sweet in my boyfriend's eyes for a few seconds before he replies.

“I know, baby, I know.” His gaze wanders into the space between the atoms, his mind leaping forward into the future as he assures both me and himself, “Once my contract with WCKD Enterprises is up, I'll be able to move back to Denver. We'll be back in the same city.”

My smile is tired, only half there, and Gally knows it. It's been months since I've held him in my arms. This long distance routine is wearing us both out. We're both running out of steam—not for each other; not for our relationship, but for the complexity that being long distance has brought to our relationship. Conflicting schedules, spotty internet, the deprivation of physical contact with the person we crave it from the most…it's all beginning to pile up, and we both know it.

In an attempt to change the subject, I ask, “When is your flight back to Chicago again?” I already know, but I'm not sure what else to say, and besides, it's always good to check.

“Your birthday,” comes the cheeky reply, my eyes rolling of their own accord as I secretly admire the handsome grin on my boyfriend's face. But all too soon, his grin fades.

“I'm sorry I can't be there for your birthday,” he says gently. I wave him off, assuring him that I'll be just fine.

“Bren, Tes, and Sony are planning something. Won't tell me what, though.” I sigh before admitting, “It won't be the same without you. But your work's important.” Gally smiles gratefully, but there's cracks in the smile, and my stomach sinks. Guilt over my last comment settles in my digestive tract. “Sorry,” I mumble.

“No, no, don't apologize,’’ Gally says quickly. “You're allowed to be sad that I can't be there.” His amiable grin morphs into a scowl, “Tried to get Janson to give me the time off, I really did. But that rat wouldn't do it.” I give Gally what I hope is a reassuring smile.

“It's okay, babe.” We fall into silence, not necessarily comfortable, but not bad either, before Gally interjects,

“It'll be nice to be in my own apartment, though. I'm getting sick of all these Californian hotels. I'll be glad to be home, smog and noisy L-trains galore.” I chuckle, knowing that Gally loves Chicago because of its quirks, not in spite of them.

Still, Denver has always been home to me. But Gally and I've decided to cross that bridge when we get to it. We've got enough to think about as it is.

I'm trying to come up with another conversation topic, since I don't have work until later today, but unfortunately, Gally isn't so lucky. It’s the perks of working from home as a crisis hotline counselor, I guess. The hours aren’t as demanding, since the work itself is.

“Shoot, I have to go,” he hisses. “I'm sorry, princess. I'll call you tonight?” I nod, forcing myself to look forward to tonight's call, rather than be sad that this one is ending. “Alright, good that,” Gally grins. “I love you, babe!”

“I love you, Gal,” I smile and wave goodbye. The half-baked grin melts right off my face once he's hung up. Gosh, I miss him so much.

There's only so much comfort a video call can give.

Teresa calls me soon after Gally hangs up, blabbering on and on about a date she'd had with some guy named Ben, but I can't focus on her stories like I normally would. Usually, I'm all in to hear my friend's tales, but my mind is still fixated on the miles separating Gally and I. Something in me wonders how much longer we'll be able to go without holding each other. How much longer we can stand to be separated.

When we first started dating, I could have gone months, as long as we were still interacting. But as my love for Gally increased, the length of time I could stand to be without him decreased.

I'm fully, unashamedly in love with Gally now, and part of me wonders what I would do to be living in the same place as him. To be in his arms for good. The easy answer—the most raw answer—is anything. I'd do anything for him.

“(Y/N)?” Teresa's voice brings me out of my thoughts, her suspicious tone confirming that she's noticed my lack of focus today. “You weren't listening, were you?” To an outsider, her tone might sound harsh; reproachful, even, but I know her too well. She's not mad. Just annoyed she'll have to repeat her story if she wants me to hear it.

“I'm sorry,” I mumble, and it's sincere. I am sorry that I lost focus. But I don't apologize for pining after my faraway boyfriend. There's no reason to, for one, and two, I won't ever apologize for thinking of him. For missing him.

Teresa is grinning at my distracted tone, I can tell. Even through the phone, I can tell. “You're good. Dreaming about your bae, aren't you?”

I don't hesitate to admit, “Yes. I miss him more than I thought was even possible.” I hear Teresa's hum from the other end of the phone.

“You need to see him,” she declares. I scoff.

“Believe me, I know, and we're trying to figure out when he can next visit, but we're both just so busy.” Teresa clucks her tongue, the sound distorting oddly through the phone speaker. I imagine it running across the telephone poles, through the wires, twisting and bending and knotting out of shape as it flies all the way to me.

“I didn't mean like that, (Y/N). You need to go see him.” I chuckle, I wish I could.

“He's busy, Tes. Besides, he isn't even in Chicago right now,” I reason. This doesn't deter her.

“Well, when will he next be in Chicago?”

“His flight's on my birthday.”

“That's perfect!” Teresa squeals.

“How is that perfect?” I huff.

“You can fly out and spend your birthday with him! Surprise him!”

I actually laugh at this. “Um, no, I can't. I don't have the kind of money to just throw down for plane tickets. Besides, weren't you, Brenda, and Sonya planning something?”

“Well, yeah, but we could always change plans if we needed to,” Teresa says as if it's the most obvious thing in the world. On any other day, I would entertain this kind of silly daydreaming, but today, I already felt lonely enough.

“Sorry, Tes. Those spontaneous decisions are not my cup of tea,” I sigh, and I think she can tell I'm shutting the conversation down. She lets it go, and I thank her silently, forcing the ache in my heart left by Gally's absence to venture to the back of my mind. If I waste the day away, it'll be evening again, and then he'll call, just like he said.

And so despite the fact that I know wasting the days away is bad for me, I do it anyway. Just today, I tell myself. Just today.

Of course, I know I'll do it again tomorrow, and the next day, and all the hours in between my calls with Gally. It's ridiculous, how they all say having space helps one think clearer, when having space just distracts me by making me miss him that much more.

When he's gone, I'm reminded that much more that he's all I need.

_______________________________

𝗜𝗧’𝗦 𝗦𝗘𝗩𝗘𝗡 p.m. by the time Gally calls, his eyes lighting up when he sees me despite the exhausted, burnt out look on his face. I'm equally as ecstatic as he is to revel in the gaze of my lover, both of us simply brushing every inch of each other's faces with our eyes, memorizing each other for the millionth time. It won't be the last time, either. I could never get tired of scanning my gaze across his skin, memorizing every inch of his beautiful face.

In our current situation, it's the closest I can get to kissing every inch of his beautiful face.

Gally is the first to break the silence, and I'm okay with it. He's the one who's had a long day. He knows what he needs to talk or not talk about. I just love hearing his voice.

“How was your day, baby?” he asks, a tired sort of happiness seeping into his voice. Like I'm giving him some kind of rest just by smiling at him.

“It was good. Uneventful.” I shrug, knowing that I'd barely moved from the chair I occupied now. “The real question is, how was your day, my love?”

Gally grins at the pet name. He always does. It's the same reaction that I have whenever he uses terms of endearment on me. It's our own personal love language of sorts. How many different ways can I call you mine?

“My day was okay,” Gally says quietly, sighing when he sees the look on my face. The one that tells him to lay it on me; rant if it'll make him sleep better tonight. “Well, it was…mediocre,” he amends, running a hand through his short hair. “Tim was being an ass. As always.” I nod sympathetically, understanding the deep hatred he harbors for his coworker.

Why Gally doesn't like Tim, I'm not exactly sure, but I know it has something to do with taking credit for a project that Gally did all the work on. It resulted in a harsh lecture from their boss for Gally, who was presumed to have slacked off, and a promotion for Tim.

Anyone who knows Gally knows that he would never slack off. He takes duty and work seriously; more seriously than anyone else I've met, in fact. I know my boy. He wouldn't hurt his company's productivity, even if his boss is an asshole like Janson.

“I'm sorry Tim was giving you trouble, baby,” I croon, watching the aches and tension of the day seeping out of his stiff shoulders at the sound of my voice. His smile weaves its way back onto his face. It's a soft, vulnerable smile, the one that makes me want to take him in my arms and just hold him like the precious treasure he is.

“I wish I could hug you,” Gally groans, rubbing his chin with his fingers before trying to regain his composure. “Sorry…I don't mean to bring everything up again. I just…I just miss you.” My comforting smile wobbles, knowing that those same thoughts are eating away at me inside, but I bring the happy thoughts back to the surface and my grin rights itself.

“Soon, love, soon,” I murmur, knowing I can't truly promise anything with how busy our lives have become. But soon doesn't have a time slot or expiration date. I can promise soon and define it later. All I know is that it brings a smile to my boy's face, and that's what I need right now.

We spend the rest of the night talking, lifted by the promise of Soon, love, soon, knowing that it could very well mean a long, long time.

_______________________________

𝗦𝗨𝗡𝗟𝗜𝗚𝗛𝗧 𝗦𝗧𝗥𝗘𝗔𝗠𝗦 in my bedroom window, blinding me when my eyes flicker open. But once I blink away the black spots in my vision, I see that the sunlight isn't the only reason I was pulled from the comforting arms of sleep.

Brenda, Teresa, and Sonya are standing at my bedside, my sheets in a bunched up ball in Sonya's hands. I groan, trying to roll away, but Bren, ever the fearless one, grabs my shoulder and pulls me back to face them.

“Get up, (Y/N). No spending the day moping,” she orders. I heave out an exaggerated sigh, making my body intentionally limp as Brenda and Teresa each grab one of my arms, pulling me upright until I have to support my own weight.

“Sometimes I really regret giving you guys my apartment passcode,” I comment, leading Sonya to pinch my arm. I yelp, rubbing the red mark as I get manhandled out of my pajamas and into a new outfit by my best friends. “What—what are you crazies doing?” I splutter, quickly taking the pair of jeans from Teresa's hands before she can try to shove them on my legs, opting to put them on myself.

“We aren't letting you mope around until Gally visits. Who knows how long that would be? It's not healthy,” Sonya explains, linking an arm through mine as the three girls drag me to the bathroom. Brenda shoves my toothpaste-loaded toothbrush into my hand as Tes starts pulling my hair brush through my hair.

“Ow,” I complain around a mouthful of toothpaste suds, pulling away from Teresa's assault on my tender scalp momentarily to spit. She and Sonya make quick work of my slightly frizzy hair, tag teaming it to create a fun yet elegant braid.

“Beautiful,” Sonya sighs, leaning back to admire her handiwork. Brenda, on the other hand, seems to have some kind of mental checklist, full of all the tasks she must see me complete.

“Breakfast is next,” she commands, and I find myself being pulled into my kitchen, watching helplessly as my friends dive into making us a scrumptious, sugary feast.

I have to admit, the fluffy blueberry pancakes filling my stomach certainly make venturing out into the world much easier than I expected. I only feel the need to text Gally three times before leaving my apartment with my friends, rather than the usual five to ten. Whether these texts are to let him know I'm fine or to make sure he's fine, I've never been able to figure out. Maybe they're both. Either way, it's a good thing Brenda shoved my meds into my hand before breakfast.

When I'm here alone, I don't take them. Sometimes I skip them on purpose, sometimes I just forget. But either way, I don't take my anxiety meds unless Brenda is there to shove them down my throat. Thinking about it, I'm grateful she's here to force me to take them today. With all of these mixed up feelings about being separated from Gally for so long, having more control over my anxiety will be good.

A day shopping with my best friends is a good distraction from the painful loneliness I've been feeling without Gally. It's not exactly a cure, but it's close. My friends know this; know their own limitations, and so they do the best they can.

And I'm so grateful that they've put in the time. Put in the effort. All for me.

“Thank you,” I whisper to them as we sit in our favorite coffee shop, sipping oat milk lattes.

“Of course,” Brenda immediately responds.

“We love you,” Sonya adds.

“We know we aren't your boy,” Teresa chimes in, “but we're your best friends, and that means we stick by you. No matter what.” She leans over to rub my arm. “When you're down, I'm down. We wanted to help pick you back up.”

The smile on my face is genuine for the first time in a long time, knowing that my friends love me enough to support me despite having the knowledge that they can't give me everything I need. They give what they can, and accept me when it doesn't fix everything.

I haven't always had friends this good, and I look up at the sky, thanking the heavens that I've been blessed with such good friends now.

_______________________________

𝗧𝗪𝗢 𝗗𝗔𝗬𝗦 before my birthday, I can’t get Teresa’s half-joking, hare-brained idea out of my head. Realistically, I know that the likelihood that I could find a flight on my birthday to Chicago that isn’t full (or way too expensive) is slim. Realistically, I know that I don’t have the money for plane tickets right now. Realistically, I know that flying halfway across the country on a whim to see my boyfriend is ridiculous.

But when Gally sends me his flight information, knowing I like to watch his progress and get confirmation when he lands safely, I find myself checking flights from Denver to Chicago, telling myself it’s just out of curiosity. Because what if there is a flight to Denver from Chicago on my birthday? What if there is a possibility that I could see Gally on my birthday? What if there is a chance that I could have this gift; the only one I truly want?

If there’s even a chance to see Gally on my birthday, I want to know.

Gally’s flight information is pulled up on my phone, which is next to me on my desk as I scroll through flights on my laptop. My right thumbnail is between my teeth, bitten down to the quick and then some. It seems that flying is a popular travel option right now, as flights are filled even into places like Dawson County, Montana. Every flight I find from Denver to Chicago is either full or too expensive for someone just out of college, like me. The cheapest is $374, and I know rationally that blowing through that much money would be devastating for my finances.

I swear under my breath, angry at myself for even getting my hopes up. It was a stupid idea to check the flights, and I find myself wishing I could go back in time to stop myself from looking. The disappointment grows even larger knowing that there would be a way to get to him if I wasn’t a broke post-college student making minimum wage in the Mile-High City. Then the disappointment and anger melt away, leaving me with a heart wrenching sadness that feels so empty and yet so all-consuming that I can’t help but break down into tears.

I don’t want to let myself cry about a silly daydream that was unlikely to happen anyway, but I’d let myself entertain the thought of seeing Gally soon; of holding him close and kissing him until we couldn’t breathe, and now everything else seemed pale in comparison. It wasn’t that my life had no purpose outside of him—I’d made it very clear when we started dating that the two of us needed to make sure we had lives outside of our relationship, too. But Gally had become a part of me; my favorite part of me, in fact. I was perfectly happy with the life I had, but Gally made it even sweeter. And knowing that sweetness was mine but was inaccessible made the absence of it even more palpable. Even more unbearable.

Crumpled into a heap on my floor with tears slowly leaking from my eyes is how Teresa finds me when she opens my door fifteen minutes later. “Hey, girl—” she calls before seeing me, rushing to my side with a worried, “Oh, my gosh, what’s wrong, (Y/N)?” I just shake my head, the waterworks turning back up to full blast.

“I miss him so much,” I sob as she gathers me in her arms, unable to care that I sound pathetic.

“Oh, I know, darling, I know,” Teresa coos, rocking back and forth with my shaking body, whispering comforting words into my ears just like she always does when I get so worked up. My chest heaves as I try to catch my breath, hand flying up to wipe the snot from my nose, but of course, the minute it’s gone, more replaces it. I’m past the point of an easy calm-down, instead finding myself close to the edge of hyperventilating. Thankfully, Teresa isn’t a stranger to my emotional meltdowns, and she isn’t afraid of them, either. Instead, she’s the kind of friend who will take my hand and guide me through it.

“Did you take your meds this morning?” she asks cautiously, to which I shake my head in embarrassment. Tears are still pooling in the corners of my eyes as I manage to get out,

“I’m sorry.”

Teresa just shushes me calmly. “Don’t apologize. It’s in the past now. I just wanted to know.” I nod shakily, the soothing pressure of her hand rubbing my arm helping me steady my breaths slightly. “What set you off?” she queries, squeezing me a bit tighter when the tears speed up again.

“I—I decided to check the flights for my birthday,” I answer, sniffling as my best friend strokes my hair lovingly. “It was stupid, because it just made me upset. They’re all too expensive, and I knew they would be, and it just made me miss him so much more.” Admitting it out loud makes me feel even dumber, the guilt creeping into my stomach. “I did this to myself,” I mumble. Subconsciously, my nails find their way to my arms, digging into the delicate skin and leaving pink crescents behind. Teresa pulls my hands away from my arms quickly.

“Stop blaming yourself. You did nothing wrong. I would’ve done the same, (Y/N).” I know she’s trying to comfort me, but I just squeeze my eyes shut.

“Yeah, and it wouldn’t have caused you to end up on the floor like a pathetic child.”

“(Y/N)! Stop!” Teresa scolds me. “Stop with the negative self-talk.” I try to protest, but she fixes me with that no-nonsense look that can get anyone to agree to anything, and I find myself nodding meekly. “None of this is your fault. You’re in a difficult situation, being separated from your boyfriend, and your heart isn’t sure how to handle it. That’s okay. You don’t have to know how to handle it perfectly yet.” I sigh, leaning into my best friend’s shoulder, feeling slightly calmer now. She always knows the right words to say when I’m in too deep to think straight.

Teresa coaxes me into the kitchen to drink hot chocolate once my breathing has steadied somewhat. She’s looking at me with an odd look that I can’t quite place, as if she’s…proud of me?

“Why are you looking at me like that?” I ask warily over the top of my steaming mug. My best friend grins, staring at me for a couple more seconds before replying,

“You’re just, like, the strongest person I know.” My face turns what I assume is beet red at the compliment, not expecting such high praise from the woman who just held me in her arms as I sobbed like a baby. But then again, Teresa is special. She doesn’t judge based on outward appearances or impressions. She can see right into the heart of people, as if she can sense their goodness; their potential, and then she nudges them down that path. Helping them choose the sunshine. The good side. The light.

Knowing her compliment is slightly overwhelming, Teresa shrugs and changes the subject so fast I think I get whiplash. “You should call Gally,” she suggests. “Tell him that you were missing him and ask him for some love.” I cringe, turning away from her.

“I don’t want to make him feel bad that he isn’t here. I think I’ve already done that too much this week.”

Teresa scoffs, “That’s nonsense. He’ll be happy that you reached out to him after your meltdown. He’ll be touched that you wanted to let him know how you’re doing. He’ll feel honored that you’re willing to be vulnerable with him.” I know deep down that she’s right; that the only thing he’d do is make me feel better. Never after calling Gally do I feel worse. I know I’m just scared to hurt him, but he always assures me that I don’t need to harbor that fear. I don’t need to hold onto that anxious voice in my head that whispers, You don’t deserve him.

I can even imagine him next to me if I try hard enough, murmuring, “You’re perfect, baby,” when I grow insecure. Whispering, “I’m so lucky to have you” in my ear when I doubt myself.

“Okay,” I agree, letting Teresa take my phone and FaceTime him. Despite the fact that it’s the middle of the work day, Gally picks up on the first ring, a concerned look decorating his handsome face.

“Teresa? Wha—”

“She’s fine!” Teresa rushes to assure him, motioning for me to join her on the couch. I pop my head into the frame, wincing as I see how swollen and puffy my face is. Gally’s forehead immediately creases upon seeing me, obviously still worried when he sees the tear stains on my cheeks.

“Babe, are you okay?” he asks. Teresa silently asks if I want to take the phone, but I shake my head. My hands are still slightly shaky, and holding the phone is an added stressor. Teresa understands and angles the phone towards me.

“Yeah, I’m okay, don’t worry,” I whisper, my boyfriend’s shoulders relaxing only slightly. “I just had a bit of a meltdown. Teresa found me and helped me calm down.” Gally’s eyebrows soften, his mouth tilting down in a sympathetic frown.

“Oh, baby, I’m sorry,” he murmurs. “What happened?”

“I just miss you,” I mumble sheepishly after a second’s pause. It seems kind of silly once I admit it out loud, and I start to duck my face away when Gally gets my attention.

“Hey, (Y/N), (Y/N),” he says, waiting until I’ve turned back to him before continuing, “You don’t need to feel embarrassed. I miss you, too, okay? I miss you so much. You don’t need to feel ashamed for struggling.” He waits for me to respond, and I nod slightly. Truth be told, just hearing his voice has made me feel better; stronger. There’s something about his comforting, strong tone that soothes me. Just his voice can make me truly believe in myself. I swear, this man could make me believe anything as long as he says it aloud.

“Thank you for picking up,” I smile, finding my mood lightening as a grin finds its way back onto his face. “Seeing you helped.” Gally blushes slightly, rubbing a hand along his chin.

“I’m glad I could help, baby.” Offscreen, someone gruffly commands him to get back to work, and he mutters an apology before turning back to the screen. “I’m sorry, but I have to go. But call me if you need anything, okay?” I nod, trailing my eyes over his freckles one more time as he thanks Teresa for taking care of me and then hangs up.

“It helped?” she asks, as if double-checking to make sure I truly am feeling better.

“Yeah,” I grin sheepishly. “You know what you’re talking about.” With a roll of my eyes, I joke, “You should be a counselor for a living. At this rate, you’re better than me at my own job!” Teresa just laughs.

“Well, now that you’ve cracked a joke, I know you’re feeling better.” She pulls me into a hug, and I gladly return it, silently wondering how I got blessed with such an amazing best friend.

“Hey, I’m here for you,” she reminds me one more time as she leaves, her meticulous check-ins a promise for the next few days.

“I know,” I assure her. “I promise I’ll call if I need to.”

“Good,” she says, smiling as she waves. “I love you, babes!”

“I love you, too, Tes!” Feeling a bit lighter, I wave back as I close my front door.

_______________________________

“𝗜 𝗖𝗔𝗡’𝗧—I can’t take this,” I stutter the next day, wide-eyed at the wad of cash Teresa is currently shoving into my hands. Brenda and Sonya are flanking her on either side with looks that imply they’re attempting to telepathically convince me to take the money.

“Yes, you can,” Teresa sighs exasperatedly. “Like I already told you, it’s the money we were going to spend on your celebration pooled together. But we all know you’d rather spend your birthday with Gally, and we want you to be able to, so we’re giving you the money for that plane ticket you couldn’t afford. It would be a waste to throw you a party you don’t want to be at. Helping you see your boyfriend is a much better use of that money. We all agreed.” Brenda and Sonya both nod, Teresa shoving the cash even further into my palms. I take it shakily, counting silently as I gape at them. “But—but this is nine hundred bucks! I can’t—I can’t take this, I’m sorry!”

“Don’t be sorry!” Brenda sighs. “Just take the money! It’s our birthday present for you!” I look back and forth between my three best friends, realizing that there is no way they’re letting me reject the money. But it feels so weird having this many fifties weighing heavily in my grasp.

“Please take it,” Sonya says softly, placing a gentle hand on my shoulder. “We want you to be able to go see Gally. We want you to enjoy this birthday. You’ll be giving a gift to us by making this impulsive choice to do what makes you happy.” My resistance gets melted away by her words, knowing that this was their tactic all along. Get (Y/N) all toughened up to the ‘just take it’ ruse and then let Sonya slip under her defenses when she least expects it. But I’m not annoyed by it. Instead, I let Teresa close my fist over the cash.

Immediately, the three start cheering, but before I can even blink, they’ve moved on from celebrating and are pushing me towards my laptop where, just as I’m sure Teresa suspected, the flights from Denver to Chicago are still pulled up. Teresa obviously asked Gally to share his flight information with her, because she seems to have it memorized as she scans the flights.

“Alright, here’s the best one,” she announces after a few minutes of looking. “United, nonstop, leaving at 9:30 a.m. MT and arriving at 12:56 p.m. CT. It’s in the same terminal as Gally’s flight, and he lands at 2:23 p.m. CT, so that gives you a little over an hour to get to his gate and wait for him. Sounds good?” I nod wordlessly, still slightly in shock over the way my best friends have handled this so nonchalantly, as if their friend flying across the country on a day’s notice is just a normal part of their lives.

Sonya pulls me towards my room as Brenda takes the stack of cash back from me, mumbling that Teresa insisted they have it for show but was just planning on Venmoing the cash to me. I laugh at our friend’s antics before following an impatient Sonya, who grabs my suitcase from my closet and starts making a list of what I should pack.

“We’re not buying you a return flight,” she explains, “because we didn’t know how long you’d want to stay, and we figured you didn’t know either. Just bring your work stuff and you can work from Gally’s apartment, and use the rest of the money to buy a return ticket when you decide to come back.” I shake my head in awe at the schemes of my friends, who have obviously thought of every single anxiety I could have because of this plan and have set out to refute them.

With Sonya helping me pack, a task that would usually take me at least three hours, two cups of coffee, and a panic attack is done in under one hour, no coffee or panic attacks in sight. While I wouldn’t have minded the coffee, the no panic attack part is nice, and I decide I can live without those two cups of coffee if it means my peace of mind is intact.

And the next morning when Teresa drops me off at the airport, my medicine taken and an ample breakfast eaten, the nervous butterflies in my stomach don’t feel scary. In fact, they feel almost…exciting. And I feel crazy for doing this; for flying halfway across the country to surprise my boyfriend so I can kiss him on my birthday, but I also feel so alive.

And today, the idea of living doesn’t seem as scary anymore.

_______________________________

𝗔𝗦 𝗜 wait at my gate and sip my Starbucks latte, I answer the countless birthday texts I have already received, smiling at the overflow of love from people I talk to everyday and people I barely even know. It’s funny, knowing that there are people out there who remember my birthday but don’t talk to me otherwise. Some might feel disheartened at the idea, but I just giggle quietly to myself, wondering if I’m going crazy for feeling so lighthearted.

Maybe it’s the adrenaline, I think to myself. The adrenaline from doing something so stupid and yet so exciting. Shrugging to myself, I take another large gulp of coffee, finally getting to the text from Gally. I saved it for last, knowing it would be the best one. And sure enough, as I read the message, I feel happy tears pricking my eyes. As always, he’s sweet; sappy, even, but his message also holds the serious intensity that he always has around him. It’s like an aura, telling those around him that he does everything fully and completely, never giving only half of his effort. That intensity is probably why I love reading texts from him over and over. Even if it’s a simple good morning, his texts always seem to scream I love you from between the lines.

I text Gally back, thanking him for the love he’s sent zipping along telephone lines, across the country and all the way to me. I suck the last dregs of liquid from my Starbucks cup, finally accepting that the beverage is gone as the gate attendant calls for Boarding Group 1. I find myself bouncing from foot to foot, realizing once again that I’m really doing this. I can’t bring myself to sit down as I wait for my group to be called, instead standing by the gate’s charging station, fidgeting like I’m about to run the 100 meter dash. By the time I’m boarding, I’m breathing heavily like I just sprinted up Pikes Peak. Whether from nerves or excitement, I can’t really tell, but it’s enough that the flight attendant touches my arm as she checks the cabin.

“Ma’am, are you okay?” I look up in surprise before giving her a quick grin.

“Yeah, I’m fine. Just nervous.”

She smiles empathetically. “Is it your first time flying?”

“No. I’m flying out to surprise my boyfriend, and I guess I’m just hoping it all works out like I planned,” I explain.

At this, I receive an even bigger grin from the flight attendant, who thinks that is just—“the most adorable thing ever!” I nod along, unsure whether I’m actually smiling or just masking my anxiety. Either one is a plausible explanation, and I’m pumped so full of adrenaline that all of my emotions currently feel interchangeable.

I spend the entirety of take-off nervously fiddling with the little screen in front of me, trying to distract myself. Once we’re at a constant altitude, the flight attendants offer drinks, and I ask for a ginger ale, my go-to drink on airplanes. It calms me down, the comforting security of it helping me stay rational. Unfortunately, the ginger ale combined with my anxious thoughts cause my bladder to reach its limit quite quickly.

I hate the little bathrooms on airplanes. So loud, so claustrophobic, so turbulent. It’s like trying to pee while in the middle of an earthquake. But my bladder isn’t playing games today, and the last thing I want to do is ignore it and then pee myself. The intrusive thoughts fight to take over as I rush through the motions, washing my hands as quickly as possible, but I stave them off and make it back to my seat in one piece.

The remaining hour until landing is the longest hour of my life.

When we finally touch down and taxi to our gate, all of the tension that has built up inside me feels ready to explode, but I hold it in, knowing that I can let it all out once I see Gally. It’s barely even occurred to me that I’m a year older now—that it’s my birthday—because all I can think about is getting to hold my boy.

I almost trip getting off the plane, too busy checking his flight’s progress and landing gate. His flight is still an hour and thirty minutes out, giving me more than enough time to go to the bathroom, get some food, and wait for him. I pull my suitcase behind me, so glad I decided to take everything in my carry-on, as I’m now realizing that baggage claim is outside the secure area of the airport. I break free from the flow of traffic heading in that direction, redirecting towards the bathroom.

One bathroom trip, makeup refresher, and food court scavenger hunt later, I’m standing against a column at Gally’s gate, drinking my second Starbucks latte of the day. Normally, I wouldn’t let myself indulge like this, but it’s my birthday, so I feel justified. I even treat myself to a slice of sweet bread, too. I’m too anxious to eat a full lunch. Besides, I’m sure Gally will be happy to get lunch on our way back to his apartment. He’s always willing to eat, no matter the time of day.

I’m trying my best not to look suspicious. There’s a flight leaving from this gate after Gally’s flight arrives, so I blend in, but my leg is bouncing nervously and my hands are shaking slightly. I’m a naturally energetic person, but the fidgeting increases exponentially when I’m either excited or nervous. Right now, I’m both.

Thankfully, no one seems to notice me or think I’m behaving weirdly. I’m simply overthinking, like I often do. At least it passes the time. I only have thirty minutes left to wait.

I run back to Starbucks and buy another latte. It’s gone within ten minutes, my anxious energy prompting me to gulp it down like I’m dying of thirst. Then I’m running to the bathroom again, bladder shouting angrily at me for the caffeine abuse I’ve been subjecting it to. It’s unpleasant, but it kills more time.

Ten minutes to go. I’m staring at my phone, Gally’s flight details pulled up, reloading the page over and over in hopes that magically, they’ll teleport and be here instantly. With anyone else, I wouldn’t be this obsessive; impatient, but it’s Gally. I could obsess over Gally for days on end with all the love overflowing from my heart. So I pass three minutes refreshing the page persistently, watching the minutes countdown.

I let out a quiet, barely there gasp when my phone screen tells me he’s landed. I can barely contain my excitement, nervous energy causing me to wiggle my hips like a rhythmically challenged dancer. His plane is on the ground, taxiing over, right to where I’m waiting. He’s going to walk through that gate, and I’m going to see his beautiful face, and I’m going to run and jump into my boyfriend’s arms.

All of a sudden, doubt crashes into me like a fucking tidal wave. What if he doesn’t want to see me? What if this is weird, and he’s going to be all awkward about it? What if this was one huge fuck-up? I can feel myself starting to spiral, starting to lose touch with the confidence I’ve been channeling all day. The panic has started to grow, and it surges through my veins, reaching to the tip-top of the cliff that is followed by a plunge off the deep end. Thankfully, though, with only a few minutes to spare before my boyfriend gets off his plane, a little girl in a princess dress bumps into me, hard, causing my knees to buckle and my head to snap out of the spiral it’s in.

I catch myself against the trusty column I’m leaning against, looking down to find a young girl, maybe six, wearing an Elena of Avalor dress-up costume with a stuffed animal that looks like some kind of leopard with bird wings.

“Amity!” her mother scolds her, ordering her to apologize for bumping into me. Amity looks up at me with big, brown doe eyes and a huge, genuine grin.

“I’m sorry, Ma’am,” she chirps. I smile back, making eye contact with her mom, before crouching down to her level and holding out a hand to shake.

“I forgive you. I’m (Y/N). Want to know something?” Amity shakes my hand, grinning widely, before looking at her mom as if to make sure it’s okay to talk to me. Her mom gives a gentle nod, a kindness in her eyes as they meet mine. “Well, Amity, you actually helped me just now. I was feeling super duper nervous and it was making me get shaky and worried. But then you bumped into me, and I saw your smile, and it made me feel a lot better!”

I can tell Amity’s mother is touched, and I make sure to assure her that I’m doing better. That Amity’s little scuffle with my legs was truly helpful. And then Amity and her mom are on their way, Amity’s tight hug and whisper of “You look like a princess” giving me the last boost of confidence I need.

Right as I finish waving goodbye to the adorable little girl, I hear the sounds of passengers starting to come down the jetway. I suck in a sharp breath, making sure my small suitcase and jacket are safe by the column before stepping closer to the junction between gate and jetway, watching passengers closely as they start to trickle into the airport.

It’s no surprise that I can pick Gally out of the crowd immediately after he walks out of the jetway, his head easily peeking over every other passenger. He doesn’t see me at first, focused on trying not to trample the small toddler whose family is trying desperately to get him to behave as they walk in front of my boyfriend.

I wait until he’s right there, just the toddler’s family in front of him, to call his name. “Gally!” His head snaps up, eyes scanning the surrounding area before settling on me, his jaw going slack, falling open in surprise as the toddler’s family quickly moves out of the way.

It’s like we’re living in slow motion, the way I watch Gally’s backpack slide out of his hand and hit the floor with a thump, his look of shock morphing into a state of joyous disbelief, as if he’s not sure he’s truly seeing me. He looks frozen in this state, unable to move towards me, but I don’t care. I’m already running up to him, happy tears gathering in my eyes as I jump into Gally’s arms, my head burying itself in his neck before I lean up to kiss him with all the pent-up love, tension, and nerves that have been coursing through my body all day.

His lips are warm just like they always are, soft and full and inviting as we kiss passionately; shamelessly, right in front of everyone waiting to board their flight. I can’t bring myself to care, anxiety nowhere to be found now that I’m here. In his arms. Held tightly, kept safe, flooded with warmth, just like I’m supposed to be.

He pulls away first, still in shock as he scans my face, as if expecting to find some imperfection that reveals me as a doppelganger. “Baby—” he chokes out, tears brimming at the corners of his eyes, my own tears rolling down my cheeks. “Baby, you’re here.” He lets out a giddy, confused laugh, cupping my cheek with his hand as he wipes the remnant saltwater away with his thumb.

“You’re—you’re here. In Chicago,” he repeats, putting my feet back on the floor so I can stand there with my arms around his neck, his other hand coming up to cup my other cheek. “You’re—it’s your birthday!” he says, and I can’t tell if it’s another reason he’s confused I’m here, or if it’s just an observation. Well, probably both, so I just giggle.

“Yes, Gally, it’s my birthday.”

“But—did you—when did you get here?” he asked, bewildered, a lovestruck, excited smile lighting up his whole face. I run my hands through his hair, admiring his gentleness as he cradles my face in his palms.

“An hour and a half ago, I think. I’m not sure the exact timing,” I shrug. He gasps.

“You flew on your birthday?” I give him an odd look.

“Yes…why? Is that illegal or something?” Gally chuckles through the joy-filled tears still drifting down his face every once in a while.

“No, baby. I just thought—most people wouldn’t be willing to fly or even be at an airport on their birthdays. Don’t you have cool stuff to do? Fun people to see?” I shake my head, pulling him as close as I can, our lips hovering inches apart.

“You’re the only person I wanted to see. This is my birthday present.”

Gally’s eyes water even more as he presses his forehead to mine, running his hands through my hair. “Baby, I—” He pulls away to wipe a tear from his eye and then leans back down, pressing a gentle peck to my forehead, “I love you so much.”

“I love you even more, Gally,” I whisper back, staring into his teary eyes with my watery own. He chuckles, shaking his head.

“Not possible.”

“It is, too,” I giggle, still whispering as I press a kiss to his lips, “and I’m the birthday girl, so you have to let me win the arguments today.”

“Oh, that’s how that works,” Gally laughed, tucking a strand of my hair behind my ear. “Well, I suppose I can let you win this one, since you did fly all the way to Chicago on your birthday.”

“Oh, but that was selfish,” I smiled. “I wanted to see you. I needed to see you. It was purely selfish.” Gally just hugged me tighter, pressing kisses to the top of my hair as he admitted quietly,

“Well, I needed to see you, too. I needed to have you in my arms.” I relax into the warmth of my boyfriend’s chest, the material of his hoodie tickling my nose. I endure it because it smells like him, and that makes it the most calming aroma in the world.

“Being in your arms is all I need. You are all I need,” I whisper.

I kiss him again, a loving, sweet kiss, reveling in the presence and taste of my boyfriend, a sense of peace and safety wrapping its warm arms around me.

Nothing else matters in this moment. Not my job, or my life in Denver, or my birthday. All that matters is that I am here, in my boyfriend’s arms. In Gally’s arms.

Right where I’m supposed to be.

the end

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