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likeahorribledream · 5 months

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Eeeeeee! I’m excited for this short stories series!!!

Could you please do: Ransom Drysdale (you know I love how you write him! 😉), mob universe, with this prompt “It’s like you never really see me. I’m standing right in front of you and you don’t see me!”

Please and thank you!!!

I love me some mob ransom 😍

Word count: 1.4K

TW: None

As always, written on my phone and reading my own stuff makes me cringe so I apologize for any and all mistakes as this is unedited!

When you were younger, it always made you laugh when adults used the term “honeymoon phase” to describe a certain time in their relationship. Especially when those people weren’t married or even in a relationship. To you a honeymoon has always been the vacation you take after getting married, and that was it. As you grew older of course people explained to you what the term really meant in the way that they were using it.

“Sometimes it’s a few weeks, a few months or a few years and if you’re really lucky it could last for the entire relationship. A period of time where everything is great, both people are happy and in love, and life is just good.” You remember your aunt telling you this after your first heartbreak. “Why does it have to end?” You had asked her, not understanding why couples wouldn’t want to stay in the honeymoon phase. “Life gets in the way, reality sets in and things change.” She had simply answered.

This conversation plays back in your head every time you start a new relationship. Which wasn’t often, you were quite picky and what you wanted was to be with someone with whom the honeymoon phase never really ends. That’s what true love meant to you.

As your aunt taught you it wasn’t rare for life to get in the way, for reality to set in and for things to change, but you were always ok. If it ended, then it wasn’t meant to be. You didn’t have a lot of relationships, but you loved going out on dates. You loved meeting new people and getting to know all the little fun facts about them. No matter how the dates went you always ended up learning something new about yourself, and about other people, and you never regretted any of them.

That is until you accepted to go on your first blind date. Usually you want to get to know the person a little by exchanging messages before meeting them face-to-face, but this one time one of your coworkers at work said she knew a sweet guy who was also dating for the long run. Her boyfriend’s coworker. Normally you wouldn’t have said yes, but you liked your coworker and you’ve met her boyfriend a few times, and he was sweet too.

It added to the confusion as to how you ended up in a nice restaurant with the sleaziest man you’ve ever met. All of his comments were innuendos and the way he looked at you made your skin crawl. You just didn’t know if he acted this way because he was nervous or that’s just how he was. Whatever the reason, you were beyond uncomfortable and you wanted to leave.

You eyed nervously around, just hoping that an opportunity was going to present itself soon so that you could leave without hurting his feelings too much. It finally came in the way of a tall, broad blonde who stepped up to your table. He was very clearly a sharp dresser, all of his accessories were chosen with purpose and you could see some ink peeking from under his sleeves and collar. You had no idea who he was, but he was already your best friend.

You’re guessing your date knew who the blonde was because as soon as they made eye contact, your date became paler than a ghost. Everything happened so fast after that: your date was gone with the threat of security throwing him out on his ass if he didn’t get out on his own, the blonde invited you to his table for a complimentary dessert, that’s how you found out he owned the restaurant, and before you knew it it was way past midnight and you had been talking for hours with the man. His name was Hugh Drysdale, but he insisted you call him Ransom.

As the true gentleman and savior that he was, Ransom drove you back to your apartment complex. Well, his chauffeur did but Ransom came along.

His chauffeur would pick you up at exactly the same spot a few nights later, Ransom opening the backseat’s door for you so that you could go on your first official date together. It took about a month of you dating him to find out, from one of your coworkers, that Ransom wasn’t only a restaurant owner but also a part of one of the biggest mob families on the east side.

Not that you cared. You didn’t judge him for the way he was brought up, as far as you were concerned he was a good man. He never showed you once that he couldn’t be trusted, that’s all that mattered to you.

It really didn’t take long before the two of you became inseparable, you were spending more time at his mansion than you did at your apartment. You only went from time to time to get more clothes and pick up your mail, otherwise you only left the mansion to go to work.

It was all going perfectly, until Ransom’s grandfather died and that his father got arrested for murdering him. Suddenly Ransom found himself at the head of the table, and everything started going downhill from there.

Ransom was beyond stressed, and you could easily understand why. There wasn’t much you could do for him, aside from offering him your help and your support if he needed it. As an ER nurse, you had seen your fair share of family drama and tragedy but never to this extent. You couldn’t blame him for closing himself off to you, although you really wished he would let you in so that you could take some of that pain on yourself and make it easier for him to get through the day.

At first you were really understanding, that was until his attitude changed towards you. He wasn’t the man who you met at the restaurant months ago, and you’re not sure you like the version of Ransom you’re beginning to discover. You’d love to talk to him about it, but he’s always in his office in the basement with his men until he leaves the mansion all together or he finally joins you in bed late at night.

You wanted to talk to him about it, so you asked for a special date night. Nothing fancy, just dinner together at the table so you could take a moment and actually talk to each other. Though he had promised to you that he was going to be there, you weren’t surprised that he didn’t show up until hours after you were supposed to meet. You finally had enough, and you went back to Ransom’s room to pack a bag.

“What’s going on?” Ransom asked as he walked into his room, looking exhausted and disheveled.

“You’re late.” You simply said as you finally ended packing, not even looking up at him.

“What do you mean I’m late?” He frowned, not understanding. It hit him after a few seconds. “Fuck, kitten. I’m sorry, I forgot and I had things to do. You know how busy I am.” He loosened up his tie and toed off his shoes.

“Oh, believe me I know.” You said in a cold tone.

“What’s that supposed to mean?” He crossed his arms on his chest.

“You’re so busy, I don’t even matter anymore.” You grabbed your bag and stared him down.

“Oh fuck, don’t start.” He shook his head and pinched the bridge of his nose, this conversation was already giving him a migraine. “I have enough shit to deal with during the day, I don’t need your drama at night.”

“I’ve been telling you for weeks to lean on me, to talk to me so that I can help you but no. It’s like you never really see me. I’m standing right in front of you and you don’t see me! Until you need to blow off steam; then you suddenly remember I exist and you spend the little time I have with you telling me off on all the things I’ve been doing wrong.” You walked past him and grabbed your jacket that was by the bedroom door.

“Where are you going?” Ransom felt like he was on an emotional rollercoaster: he was tired, then annoyed, then he felt guilty and finally he was panicking.

“I’m going home.” You simply answered as you stepped outside his bedroom.

“You are home.” He quickly answered, following you.

“This isn’t my home anymore. I’m done.” You told him without looking back, you felt you might give in to him if you saw the look in his eyes. You hurried out of the mansion and to your car, ignoring Ransom as he called after you.

The honeymoon phase was over, and so was the relationship you thought was going to be forever.

#ransom Drysdale #ransom drysdale x reader #ransom drysdale x female!reader #mob!ransom drysdale x reader #mob!ransom drysdale x female!reader #knives out fanfiction #knives out #mob AU #Hugh drysdale #Hugh ransom drysdale #Chris Evans #Chris Evans x reader

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missywritesfor7 · 3 months

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❤️‍🩹Lifeline | MYG❤️‍🩹

Synopsis: It’s long been controversial for idols to date, but idols dating each other can be really beautiful or a complete nightmare. When Yoongi's relationship with another idol is discovered, he decides maybe it’s time to break the taboo and show people it’s ok for idols to date. Instead, they find themselves caught in the midst of one media frenzy after another and struggle to keep their relationship as strong as it had been the past 2 years. Yoongi finds a self destructive way to cope, and it causes even more problems than it solves. As they fight for their relationship and their careers, they discover that sometimes, the only way to truly be free is to let go.

Pairing: idol!Yoongi x idol!OC

Warnings: nsfw, alcoholism, cheating, depression, anxiety, Yoongi goes through a bisexy ho phase, Yoongi is also in his alcoholic phase, post-military BTS

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Ch. 4: Who?

Yoongi is lucky today is a travel day. He sleeps the entire journey to their next stop in Chicago. Frankly, he looks awful and the guys can tell. They’re worried especially since the next night is day 1 of their 2 back to back nights of concerts.

When Yoongi gets to his room he immediately pours himself a glass of whiskey from the minibar. He sips it first until there’s a knock at the door. Instead of putting his drink down, he downs the entire glass in one go then goes to the door to see Namjoon standing there.

“Hey, hyung,” Namjoon says as Yoongi lets him in.

“Hey,” Yoongi replies. He’s not sure why Namjoon is at his door when they just saw each other a few minutes ago.

“I just wanted to talk to you and see how you’re doing.” Namjoon takes a seat at the edge of the bed and gestures for Yoongi to do the same. “I don’t want to seem like I’m prying or anything, I just couldn’t help but overhear you last night.”

“Oh,” Yoongi sighs remembering that Namjoon’s room was right next to his. “Yeah,” he nods. “I’m ok.”

Namjoon frowns at the smell of whiskey that comes from Yoongi’s breath. Paired with the shouting he heard last night, he knows that Yoongi is not ok the way he says he is.

“Are you sure?” Namjoon asks. “Are you and Hyeri ok?”

“Pfft,” Yoongi scoffs. “She’d rather have people believe lies than the truth. I’m doing just fine.”

“Hyung…” the smell of alcohol is very strong now.

“If that’s what she wants then fine. What can I do when I’m all the way over here anyway?”

“Did you drink on the flight?” Namjoon asks, though he knows the smell is much too fresh to be from their flight.

“Oh, yeah,” Yoongi lies. “Just a small drink.”

“I see.” Namjoon nods knowing that’s not the truth. “You know you can always talk to me, or any of us, if you need to. We understand how hard it may be for you.”

“Thanks. I’m fine though.”

“Ok,” Namjoon says standing. “I just wanted to make sure. Still, I’m here for you.”

“I appreciate it.”

Namjoon reluctantly leaves knowing Yoongi is lying. He’s afraid Yoongi is going to spiral into something self destructive, but he knows Yoongi won’t admit to not being ok until he’s far beyond that.

Jimin, who had the room on the other side of Yoongi last night, finally mentioned to Namjoon before their flight the amount of drinks he saw Yoongi have during the show. He also heard Yoongi screaming on the phone and couldn’t stay silent. That’s why Namjoon came to check on Yoongi. He was hoping it wouldn’t be so bad, but once he smelled the alcohol on Yoongi’s breath he knew it wasn’t good.

Yoongi didn’t want to worry anyone. He can tell Namjoon knows something is up. He doesn’t want the rest of the group worrying about his well-being, especially when it’s all because of Hyeri. They should be focused on the tour, not him being painfully in love with someone who doesn’t seem to care about him or his feelings. He pours himself another drink and downs it faster than he did the last.

He can’t rest at all. He chooses not to spend the day seeing the sights of the city and instead stays in his room. He doesn’t eat much but he drinks plenty. With each sip he goes back and forth between feelings of sadness and anger. He starts to despise himself more and more because he hurts. He’s so angry. He wishes he could be someone else for once.

It gets late and room service has ended. Yoongi asked a manager to bring him a bottle of gin earlier, but he’s already finished the bottle so he’s afraid he may be questioned if he asks for another. He drank to the point of not feeling like himself anymore and he wants to stay in that phase. It feels freeing.

It’s after midnight and Yoongi decides to go out on his own. He would usually need a manager to go with him, but he doesn’t want them to know. He doesn’t want anyone to know. He sneaks out to his app requested ride and gets dropped off at a bar far enough from the hotel to avoid being seen.

Unfortunately this bar is a bit more lively than he expected. He was hoping for a low key bar where he could quietly have a few drinks then sneak his way back to the hotel. Instead he’s circling the place until he finds a slightly secluded spot in a back corner. He orders a drink and simply people watches.

The couples dancing and having a great time together makes him sick. He orders a second drink. He notices a girl with a haircut similar to Hyeri’s. He orders a shot. Why is his mind on her anyway? He came here to escape, not allow her to rule every one of his thoughts. He orders another drink.

“You’re too cute to be so shy.”

“What?” Yoongi looks over to the direction of the voice and sees a woman in a red crop top and skin tight leather pants with long brunette hair approaching him.

“Sorry,” the woman says sitting next to him. “You looked like you were trying to find some courage.” She gestures to the empty glasses on the table.

“Oh,” Yoongi forces a smile. “No, I’m just enjoying myself.”

“Then you’re definitely too cute to be here drinking alone,” she smiles. “You look like you could use a friend.”

“I look that sad?” He chuckles.

“That’s not what I meant,” she laughs. “I just hate to see someone who looks like you sitting alone in a place like this.” She pauses and looks him over. His eyes are red though she isn’t sure if it’s from drinking or crying. Either way, her main focus is just having a good time. “You seem like you’re trying to forget something.”

“You’re good,” he laughs finishing his drink. Thanks to drinking all day and now her presence, he feels like he’s pretty close to finally forgetting.

“Whatever you’re trying to forget, I can help you,” she says leaning in.

“How so?”

“Have a drink on me,” she smiles.

“Sure,” he nods.

Normally he would decline. Normally he would think about how unsafe it could be to have someone else order a drink for him. Normally Yoongi wouldn’t be somewhere like this in the first place at this hour. But right now he doesn’t feel like Yoongi.

She tells him her name is Sarah, and that she frequents this bar often. Not wanting anyone to find out he’s here, Yoongi tells her his name is Austin and he’s visiting from out of town. Sarah begins telling him about the best places to go in the city. What to see, where to eat, and the best shops. They chat and drink a bit more until Yoongi realizes he probably needs to head back to the hotel. When he starts to request a ride, Sarah stops him.

“Let me drive you,” she says placing a hand on his arm.

“Really?” He asks.

“Sure,” she smiles. “I’ll show you how nice people really are in this city.”

Usually Yoongi would decline. He’s already done a lot of things that are out of character for him. But he’s not Yoongi right now, he’s Austin.

He follows Sarah out to her car under the 2am moonlight. Yoongi wouldn’t dare tell anyone the hotel he’s staying at, but Austin does. Sarah gets ready to drive off but she pauses before putting the car in gear.

“You’re a really cool person, Austin,” she smiles. She reaches her hand over and touches his thigh. “You seemed a bit down at first, but I see that you’re just someone who’s hurting. I don’t know why you’re hurting, but since we may never see each other again, I’d like to help you hurt a little less.”

“What makes you want to do that for me?” He asks too drunk to care about her touch on his thigh when he normally doesn’t like for anyone to touch him. Except Hyeri. The thought of her suddenly burns him up inside.

“Because you’re a nice person.”

“Nice?” He asks almost offended. Nice is why Hyeri is all over the internet as Kihyun’s girlfriend and not his. Nice is why he hurts so damn much. “But what if I’m actually not nice?”

“Are you saying you’re not nice?” She tilts her head.

“Not at this hour,” he smirks. He doesn’t even know what he’s saying but his hurt and anger are riding the waves of all the drinks he’s had today and he’s in no position to stop it.

“Oh?” She smiles. “Let me get you back to your hotel.”

She puts the car in drive and takes off for Yoongi’s hotel. He feels like he’s having an out of body experience the entire ride. How did he end up in the car with someone he just met at a bar. He has no security and no one even knows he’s gone. If things go bad, they could be really bad.

It’s not until he sees the hotel in the distance that he begins to breathe a sigh of relief. Instead of dropping him off at the front door he asks her to drop him off in the back. It would be easier for him to slip in unnoticed that way and he’ll just take the stairs up a floor then take the elevator to avoid anyone at the front desk seeing him. Before he can get the car door open she stops him.

“Wait,” she says touching his arm. “Let me give you something before you go.”

Sarah unhooks her seatbelt and leans in close to his face. She pauses a moment looking his face over. He would never be in a position like this. Not as Yoongi at least, but tonight he’s Austin and Austin is filled with rage because he spent most of the ride thinking about Hyeri. He spent most of the ride wishing Yoongi would stop hurting so Austin can have a good time. So Austin takes over and connects his lips with Sarah’s. She looks back at him and smiles.

That kiss did nothing but further fuel the fire burning in him. He goes after her lips again much more aggressively. Her hand travels up his thigh until it meets the angry bulge in his pants.

“I’ll help you with this.” She unbuttons his pants and releases his cock from its prison.

He’s in another world right now. He’s beyond drunk and he feels like he’s not even awake anymore. The moment her lips connect with his warm tip he feels a rush of blood shoot through his body in a fiery blaze.

“Fuck,” he moans. He grabs a handful of her hair as she moves her mouth up and down his shaft.

Her tongue feels amazing. The way her hand massages his balls makes his toes curl. The way the tiny voice in his head reminds him that this isn’t quite as good as Hyeri’s mind numbing blowjob makes him mad. He clinches his jaw and tightens his grip in Sarah’s hair.

Fuck Hyeri for everything.

He powerfully bucks his hips up hitting the back of her throat. She gags a second but continues her motions. He hits her with another thrust with an animalistic growl. She moans around him and he can’t help but lift her head by her hair to look at her dick drunk face. The mischievous smile on her face burns him up more.

“You still seem a bit too nice,” she teases.

“Are you saying you want me to be meaner?” He asks pulling her hair more.

“Do your worst, baby,” she smiles.

Baby. Who the fuck does she think she is to call him that? He’s not her baby. He’s no one’s baby. He doesn’t want to hear anyone call him that again.

“If that’s what you want,” he growls through his teeth.

With his fingers still tightly wound in her hair, he pulls her back to his cock and shoves himself as far into her mouth as he can. She takes him all like a pro. She hums like a savant. And her hand returning to massage his balls feels so good it pisses him off.

He’s so drunk that he can’t stop. He’s so pissed that he can’t help but hit the back of her throat harder with each thrust. He’s not himself and he doesn’t care. Fuck Yoongi and his feelings. Austin wants revenge.

“Get ready,” He growls nearing his peak.

She hums her acknowledgment as he continues controlling her head movements.

“Fuck,” he groans.

His hips thrust into her hard then he holds her head at the base of his shaft with his entire length inside of her mouth. All of his burning hot rage goes shooting down her throat, and she swallows every drop.

When his vision returns to normal, he releases his hold on her and takes a deep breath. She looks back up at him filled with lust. To her that was amazing. She likes it rough and wanted to see how far she could push him. He did not disappoint and now she wants even more.

“Thanks for the ride,” Yoongi says buttoning his pants back up. “I really appreciate it.”

“Do you really have to go now?” She pouts. She was hoping she could at least get him to invite her back to his room.

“Yeah,” he responds. He’s drunk but not so drunk that he doesn’t realize that taking anyone back to his room would be an absolutely terrible idea. Especially since he and everyone else will need to be awake in just 4 more hours. “Who knows, maybe we’ll meet again.” He smiles at her then steps out of the car before she can say anything else.

Getting back to his room was a challenge. Not because he thought he would be seen, but because he’s so drunk it’s hard to walk. Plus he just got a toe curling blow job that he hasn’t recovered from yet, he’s lucky his legs are holding him up at all. He immediately sheds his clothes and passes out on the bed.

He wakes up to the sound of his alarm going off a short 4 hours later and he feels terrible. His head is throbbing and his vision is spinning. He has about an hour to pull himself together before heading off to rehearsal followed by a couple of interviews. There’ll be some free time before soundcheck and he hopes he’ll be able to get a nap in because he needs way more sleep.

He tries his best at rehearsal. He put ice on his eyes to make them look less puffy. Eye drops to help with the redness and dryness. Plenty of mouthwash to mask the alcohol on his breath, especially since he had another glass of whiskey thinking he’d take the ‘hair of the dog’ approach to getting over his hangover. Despite all of this, it’s hard for him to muster up the energy.

The rest of the guys notice but say nothing. Jimin and Namjoon agreed they would keep an eye on Yoongi, but they don’t want to alert the others unless they feel it’s gone far out of hand. The sting of Hyeri’s fake relationship is still very fresh and they can understand that he’d take it hard. He’s a man going through some things so it’s natural that he’d drink a little more than usual right now. They don’t want to cause concern with everyone that could impact their performances.

Thankfully for Yoongi, they have no idea how much he drank yesterday. They have no idea he went out on his own just to drink more. He can barely even remember everything that happened last night, but he remembers being so far away from reality that he couldn’t feel anything anymore.

He knows he was able to relieve some tension with the help of some woman whose name he doesn’t even remember. It doesn’t matter though, he released a lot of anger because Hyeri kept popping up in his mind. She’s all he could think of and he was so pissed about it that he released his rage into the back of a complete stranger’s throat.

Yoongi is sluggish through most of the day. He’s thankful that Namjoon does most of the talking during their American interviews, so he can just sit in the back and pretend like he doesn’t understand anything. When they finish and get their free time, Yoongi passes right out in his bed.

Things aren’t looking good to Namjoon and Jimin. Namjoon had a moment of desperation and reached out to Hyeri to ask her side of things. He didn’t hint to her anything about Yoongi’s status, he only told her that he’s taking it hard. She told Namjoon about their conversation that night and that she’s been trying to talk to Yoongi again but he’s not answering.

Hyeri called Namjoon and cried to him for an hour about how much she’s hurting and how she doesn’t want to lose Yoongi. She knows he’s pissed and she doesn’t blame him for it, she just wants to try to make it right. She even talked to her company about possibly announcing their breakup sooner rather than later so that she and Kihyun won’t have to keep pretending. With Kihyun being Yoongi’s friend and Hyeri being his actual girlfriend, things have gone very awkward between them. Hyeri is just glad they’re already done shooting the show because the great chemistry they had is now awkward and almost painful.

Namjoon admitted to Hyeri that Yoongi isn’t taking it well and he’s worried. He told her about his drinking that has gone far beyond his usual amount. Then he asks the question that he’s been trying to figure out.

“Are you two still together?” Namjoon asks. He’s aware of all of the hurt between the two of them, but no one has said specifically what the status of their relationship is.

“Namjoon,” she sighs. “I’m not even sure. He told me whether I’m here or not when he gets back is up to me. I don’t know what that means and he won’t answer me to give clarification. I just…” she pauses trying to hold back another wave of tears. “I love him, and I miss him, and I know this is all my fault, but I’m regretting everything I’ve ever done in my life. Namjoon, it hurts so much.”

Namjoon doesn’t know what to say. Perhaps there’s nothing he can say. If Yoongi won’t answer her at all what could he do? All he can do is try to keep him from spiraling too deep into alcoholism, and do his best to keep the atmosphere light at all times. It’s hard though. So incredibly hard.

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lovesugars · 2 years

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❝i’m not on the pill❞

summary— pretty please with cherries on top can you write a smut/fic for jimmy mcgill and a bratty younger girl 18+ obvs she’s a daughter of one of his clients possibly? and she pretends to be interested in being a lawyer to get closer to him and then they do the nasty and she tells him to cum in her and he does but after she tells him she’s not on birth control something along those lines? tbh i’ll take any kind of jimmy mcgill smut i’m desperate lol

parings— saul goodman x fem!reader

warnings— smut, +18, unprotected sex age gap, slightly bratty reader, office sex, and definitely not proofread whoops

"Your dad’s always telling me you want to be a lawyer.."

Saul pauses for a moment, "Is that true? Or did you just want an excuse to end up like this?"

Pressed up against his desk, ass up while he fucks you into next week is what he meant. He knew you too well to believe you only wanted an internship. He knew that you wanted to fuck him the minute your doe eyes landed on him. He knew once you strolled in alongside your father. You were the apple of your father's eye; his little princess.

If only he knew was his princess was doing right now.

"Of course I want to. Do you think I'm only here because I want to fuck you?"

Saul barks out a laugh at that. He's still pounding into you from behind, and now he's tightening his death grip around your hips. His cock stretched you out so good and you could barely even remember your own name. It felt so fucking good, you thought, you never wanted him to stop.

"See, I think that is the only reason you keep showing up. You're not overly subtle, sweetheart." He noticed whenever you would intentionally drop a pen, He noticed when you rolled up your skirt as you brought him his morning coffee. You wanted to fuck him since day one and he knew.

It was your turn to laugh now. “It's never been my specialty, but I don't think you mind. After all, you're the one fucking me." You mumbled into his desk, “At work, too. Don’t you have any restraint?”

“You’re so mouthy, Jesus, do you speak to your father like that?”

Actually, your father would kill you if you ever spoke to him like that. However, Saul loved it. He loved when you’d talk back to him.

“Don’t talk about him now!” you moaned, “You’re fucking me, not my dad.”

He smirked at that. “Such a brat.”

“Yes, but I’m your brat.”

You were. He wouldn’t put up with this from just anyone. You were lucky that he’d grown fond of you while working on your father’s case. You were lucky you looked so good under him.

“I don’t think i’m gonna last long,” he mumbled.

"Please Mr. Goodman, cum in me."

He groaned at that, "Wouldn't that be irresponsible of me?" He didn't really think impregnating the daughter of one of his most temperamental and unpredictable clients was a very smart idea. Especially not when she was only 19.

"Please, I don't care if it's irresponsible. I need you to cum in me." You weren’t at all phased by any potential consequences. Besides, you knew Mr. Goodman would always take care of you. He knew it too.

“Okay, Sweetheart. I’ll cum in you.” You practically begged him to do it; and how could he say no to you? You looked at him with such pretty eyes, he knew he was hooked.

He let out a string of expletives as well as your name as he came in you. You felt warmer with it inside of you. You didn’t want to let a single drop leak out of you.

“That was the best I’ve had in the longest time,” He sighed happily, “you’re awfully good at that.”

You stood up to kiss his cheek, “I know.” You said as you led him to his desk chair to sit down.

You gently started to massage his shoulders, easing any tension he might have post-sex. He mumbled a small “thank you”, and let his head fall against your hand. Once he was relaxed enough to almost fall asleep, you mumbled:

"Mr. Goodman? I'm not on the pill..."

#angelina’s love letters.#better call saul #jimmy mcgill x reader #saul goodman x reader #bob odenkirk #breaking bad #saul goodman

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ihavemanyhusbands · 1 year

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Honey Bun (18+ Series)

(Aaron Hotchner x Stripper!Reader)

Part 1 // MINORS DNI

This first part is dedicated to @ssahotstuff for inspiring me <3 and to @hausofwhores who I first talked to about my idea hehe <3 <3

WC: 2.1k Words

Song Inspo: Gold Satin Dreamer - Nicole Dollanganger

Series Warnings: Eventual smut, bit of an age gap (placing reader at around 25-26), cursing, alcohol consumption, formalized sex work (Stripper/Pole Dancer), occasional angst, drama, and that's all I can think of rn but lmk if I missed anything!

A/N: Short and sweet intro! Things are gonna get very uhhh interesting from here on out ;) Enjoy some flirty Hotch, let me know your thoughts on this first part! I'm super excited to be writing this!!!! :)

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“Need a little sugar in your life, gentlemen? Well, get ready to make it rain on our sweetest girl, Honey Bun! Just remember, you may feast your eyes, but no touching!”

—————

Thursdays weren’t always so busy. Sure, there were a couple of party animals who liked to start the weekend early, but rarely at such capacity.

At least you were glad that Josephine was working with you that night. She made busy nights at the Duchess Tavern much more bearable. When you first started working there, she immediately took you under her wing, teaching you all the ropes.

She had a certain matronly quality about her — probably attributed to the fact she was twenty years older than you — but she was a real tough cookie, too. On countless occasions, she’d helped you deal with rowdy customers and drunk assholes. She rarely ever needed help from the bouncers to break bar fights, she cursed like a sailor, and she also made the meanest Long Island Iced Tea you’d ever had.

You were certain that if it weren’t for her, you wouldn’t have lasted a week being a bartender.

“You’re lucky you’re off on weekends,” Josephine said as she poured a row of shots for a group of college-aged girls. “This here is light work compared to a Saturday night.”

“Well, it’s not like I’ll be getting a lot of rest…” you countered. “Dealing with the same sort of customers, too.”

“I don’t know, maybe I’m just getting too old for this shit,” she sighed heavily.

“Oh please, pigs will fly before the day good ole Josie O’Donnell actually retires.”

She laughed heartily, smacking your arm in a playful way. You couldn’t help but admire how hardworking she was. She’d been at this business for years, and it was certainly no easy place to be. She inspired you to stay driven, even when you felt at your lowest. She was the only one in this place you trusted with the knowledge of your other job. Not everyone was so understanding, and plus, it wasn’t really their business anyways.

Working two jobs was in no way easy, but it was definitely necessary. Especially considering you liked living a certain way. You barely had any free time to hang out with friends outside of work, much less meet people and go on dates. Though it’s not like you didn’t get hit on, at both of your jobs, but you just weren’t interested in any of them.

Rarely could anyone keep up with your schedule, especially considering your line of work. It was unsurprising, but you weren’t really phased by it anymore.You didn’t give yourself the time to feel lonely, and you had enough interactions during the day to compensate.

As the initial swell of patronage died down, you began wiping down the bar, absently humming to yourself. Def Leppard’s ‘Bringing on the Heartbreak’, one of your favorites, was playing on the speakers.

An older looking gentleman slid onto a barstool then. You offered him a drink menu, but he waved it off and ordered a scotch, neat. He pinched the bridge of his nose, letting out a long sigh, and his shoulders slumped as he crossed his arms over the bar top.

“Long day?” You asked, pouring his drink.

“You could say so,” he nodded wearily. “You know, I’ve always wondered, are bartenders required to ask that whenever they see a haggard-looking patron?”

You chuckled, sliding it towards him. “Only if we think we can help.”

A ghost of a smile was on his lips at that. You studied him more closely, trying to be subtle – He was strikingly handsome, with dark hair and thick dark eyebrows. He had a strong nose and a sharp, clean shaven jaw. His eyes were a piercing dark brown, and they drew your attention the most.

He took a sip of scotch, and there was something analytical in his gaze as he took you in, as well.

“Well, I guess you could say I’m a little bit of a workaholic,” he said.

You nodded in understanding. “A common affliction these days.”

“You, too?” He raised an eyebrow, and you shrugged as if to say what can you do?

“No offense, but I can’t imagine you love spending more time here than you need to.”

You raised both eyebrows at this, only half amused. He was wearing a nicely tailored suit, had an expensive watch on his wrist, and wasn’t ordering cheap drinks. The Duchess didn’t really seem like a place he’d hang out at, and yet…

“Hmm, well, I suppose the same could be said about you,” you countered, nonchalant.

“Touché,” he acquiesced with the smallest chuckle. “But I don’t know, maybe I should give it a chance. It’s…”

“Charming?” You offered.

“Yes, exactly.”

You excused yourself momentarily to attend to another customer. He looked around, but was clearly uninterested in talking to anyone else.

Josephine caught your eye and gave you an impressed look. She wagged her eyebrows suggestively and mouthed ‘get it’.

You rolled your eyes playfully, shaking your head a little. He was certainly very good looking, and flirting was pretty fun, but you weren’t sure if it should go any further than that.

When you returned, you refilled his glass, since he’d already polished off the first one.

“So, what’s your name?” You asked. “Or is it more fun to keep it anonymous?”

“I’ll tell you mine if you tell me yours.”

You thought about it for a moment, but then you relented, telling him your name.

“Some call me Honey, though,” you added.

He extended his hand out to you. “I’m Aaron Hotchner. It’s nice to meet you, Honey.”

You shook his hand, his long fingers basically engulfing yours. Something stirred low in your belly at this, your mind going straight to the gutter. As if he could tell, a smirk tugged at his lips.

“Boy, do I feel lucky to be the one getting your attention tonight,” he said.

“Why do you say that?”

“Those guys over there have been ogling you for some time now. They’re almost panting and salivating like dogs.”

You glanced in the direction he gestured towards, momentarily meeting two hungry gazes. You shrugged it off, so used to that sort of lascivious attention that you didn’t notice it anymore.

“Well, you approached me the right way,” you said, busying yourself by wiping down some glasses. “Some think it’s flattering to be looked at like that, but it’s really not.”

“I’m sorry about that,” he sympathized. “I get what you mean.”

“Oh, it must be so hard being so attractive, hmm?” You teased jokingly.

“So you think I’m attractive?”

You gave him a look that said are you serious?

“I mean, I don’t want to stroke your ego but… Yes, you really are.”

Aaron’s smirk only grew, perhaps feeling more bold now that he was on his second drink.

“For the record, I think you are very beautiful, but I am a man who knows who to appreciate beauty without needing to take some of it for himself.”

You looked back up at him then, momentarily stunned. Then you chuckled in slight disbelief, but also totally enthralled. Just who was this man?

You couldn’t remember the last time you’d held a conversation — less so one so genuinely riveting — with a single patron for this long. At least at this job, and especially for free.

You were even beginning to consider giving him your number, should he ask for it. But that was yet to be seen.

“I’m serious,” he said.

“Oh, I believe you,” you smirked in return, not letting on if you meant it or not.

The two of you held each other’s gazes for a charged moment, trying to get a better read of each other in the low light. You saw both mirth and earnestness in his eyes — but no trace of anything that should raise any flags — and you found yourself getting just a little more comfortable.

It was easy to talk to him, but he was still very much a stranger. You didn’t want to let yourself get too excited, but that didn’t mean you wouldn’t continue testing the waters. After all, he’d been pretty well behaved so far, and you always liked to reward good behavior.

Once more you had to pull yourself away to attend to someone, but at least the place was getting emptier as it got later. You could feel his gaze trailing you this time, and you glanced over your shoulder to send a wink his way.

“Psst,” Josephine hissed in your direction. “Why don’t you take fifteen? I’ve got things handled here.”

You hesitated. “Are you sure?”

“Of course I’m sure,” she scoffed. “Go on now, have a little fun.”

You waved her off, but smiled appreciatively. On your way to the other side of the bar, you grabbed yourself a beer and then plopped down on the stool next to Aaron’s. He turned to face you, his knees barely grazing yours. The small contact was innocent enough, but you still felt the smallest tingle down your spine. You clinked your bottle against his glass in a little toast.

“You were right, you know?” He said, looking at the side of your face as you drank. “You really are helping me feel better.”

“Aw shucks, that means I’m good at my job,” you said teasingly, which made him playfully roll his eyes.

“Tell me more about you. Why is it that they call you Honey?” he asked.

“Aren’t I sweet?” You pouted, pretending to be hurt.

He chuckled. “I think you are. Is that the whole reason?”

You nodded, omitting the fact that it also happened to be your stage name – Honey Bun. Sticky sweet; All satin and glitter and softness. Of course, that wasn’t the same you that was sitting across from him now.

“I think you have a very pretty name, too,” he leaned against the bar, resting his temple on his fist. “Is it too forward of me to ask to call you by it? Unless you prefer…”

You waved him off. “How can I decline when you ask so nicely?”

The two of you lost track of time as you continued talking and joking and teasing each other. Laughter seemed to come so easily around him, and there were virtually no awkward pauses between the two of you. It was almost too good to be true.

You told Aaron about some of the wilder things you’d witnessed working at the Duchess, looping Josephine into the conversation at one point. You never even noticed she didn’t call you back from your break, too absorbed in letting loose for once. Even if it was only for a little while, and not entirely.

Much too soon, last call was announced, and you realized that it was nearly two AM. Most people had left, and someone was sweeping as the tables were being stacked.

“Oh, wow, closing time,” you remarked. “I guess time does fly when you’re having fun, huh?”

You got up from your seat to start helping out, giving him a small, almost sheepish grin. You’d had a really nice time, but he was still a customer and couldn’t stick around as you wrapped up for the night. You tried to think of the nicest way to kick him out… even if a teenie tiny part of you didn’t want him to leave.

Aaron looked around as if coming out of a daze. He glanced at his watch and stood, gathering his things. “So it seems.”

“The Duchess just has that effect on people. I should have warned you.”

“I have to say, I think this place is growing on me,” he admitted. “Would you mind if I visited more often?”

“It’s a free country, you can do whatever you want,” you smiled, and in your smile there was an invitation— or perhaps a dare?

And in his, you could see that he was ready to take it.

Still, to your surprise and slight chagrin, he did not ask for your contact information. Perhaps it was his way of continuing to be respectful. Or maybe, this encounter had merely been a reprieve from the day to day for both of you. Nothing more.

For a moment, you wondered if things would have gone down differently had you met in the Crimson Lounge instead of the Duchess. The thought made a small thrill dance in your chest, but you tried not to chase it further. Of course things would have gone down differently. You probably wouldn’t have talked nearly as much.

So you took what you could get, blowing a flirty kiss in his direction as he departed. It was better not to get attached, anyway.

#aaron hotchner #criminal minds fanfiction #Aaron Hotchner series #aaron hotchner x fem!reader #aaron hotchner x stripper!reader #aaron hotchner angst #minors dni #ssa aaron hotchner

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starsstuddedsky · 2 years

Text

Struck by You (literally) - bonus!

wc: 824

a/n: i cannot end things without ridiculous amounts of fluff so hehe enjoy

Struck by You (literally) - full story

full masterlist

You sit down at the booth, grinning at Jihoon. He smiles back, leaning forward over the table close enough so that your noses are almost brushing against each other. He raises his head up, reaching his hand to brush his fingers along your forehead.

“There’s still a mark,” he says, laughing when you push him back. You fight the urge to feel your forehead, knowing the mark from the ball has been gone for a long time. You wonder if the waiter that comes to the table and hands you menus is the same one you had when you came here for the first time. You wonder if it is, what he would think of you and Jihoon now, realizing just how much you have changed. He has changed. Both of you have.

“Do you even remember what you had last time?” He asks, frowning at the menu.

You know the answer is no because you spent too much time staring at him the first time you ate a meal together, but you’re not going to give that to him yet. “You’re just saying that because you forgot.”

“Hey!” He says. “This was my idea!”

You shrug. “I just don’t think we can recreate our first date if you don’t know what you ordered.”

“This was not our first date,” he says, an old argument. You agreed that your anniversary was the first meal you had together, but Jihoon insisted your first date was the first time he officially asked you out, which was only because he cooked (or rather he attempted to) and had a picnic which was “much more romantic.”

“Then what did you order?”

You study the menu, sure that you will remember it when you see it. You frown. “Maybe they changed the menu.”

“Just say you don’t know either,” he says but he’s smiling. You still haven’t left the honeymoon phase of arguments.

“Fine, I don’t know,” you say. “See how easy that is?”

The waiter stops him from answering and you both end up choosing something random. You don’t tell Jihoon that it’s the second time you’ve done that here.

“That’s why I love you,” he says. “Unlike some people, you can admit when you’re wrong.”

“I know you mean Soonyoung, and you really need to give it up because you are just as bad.” You pause. “Wait, what did you say?”

“I love you.” When he confessed for the first time, your brain had short circuited. You think that’s what’s happening again but a warm feeling is spreading through you, the same feeling that you always got when he brought you takeout at eleven at night, or called you after practice just to hear his voice, or let you be clingy even though he didn’t like hugs. You’ve known its name for a long time now, which is why it’s unfair that he has beaten you to it again.

“You’re not fair,” you say. He frowns, clearly not expecting the conversation to go this way.

“It’s not fair that I love you?”

“I was going to say it first!” you say. “I had a whole speech planned with an itemized list of why you are so loveable.”

“You can still say it,” he says.

“It’s not the same,” you say. “It’s not as romantic.”

“Well, I love you,” he says again. “So I’m sorry.”

You pick up his hand, lacing your fingers together. “I love you, too.”

“I’m not sure I believe you, I think I need a… what was it, an itemized list?”

“I regret telling you that,” you say, burying your face in your arm. His free hand pats you on the head.

“You are very cute,” he says. “But you need to sit up because our food is here.” You groan as he lets go of your hand, sitting up and thanking the waiter when he slides a plate of steaming food in front of you. You take your first bite and frown. You think maybe it was just the first bite but the second spoonful is just as bad.

“Is it just me or is this…” Jihoon pauses.

“Really terrible, right?” you say.

He nods quickly. “Yeah this is sort of awful.”

“I remember it tasting really good,” you say and he nods again. You stare at the food again, then back at Jihoon and can’t help but laugh.

You wonder how lucky you are to have this boy, frowning and attempting another spoonful. Since you started dating, you have learned a lot about him, good and bad. He could be stubborn, he liked to tease you, he was busy all the time, and his taste in music was exclusively limited to about four artists. But he was your Jihoon and he never let you forget it.

“I love you,” you say, grabbing his hand again. “But I cannot eat this.”

He drops his fork. “Yeah me neither, we should probably just go.”

#🌟 stars galaxy #seventeen #seventeen x reader #svt #svt reader #seventeen fanfic #seventeen fanfiction #seventeen fluff #woozi #lee jihoon #reader x woozi #reader x jihoon #woozi fluff

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sibillascribbles08 · 1 year

Note

15. “I’m in love with you and it’s terrifying.”

Donatello always thought, even as a kid, that people in movies would say “I love you” too fast.

Even barely having a grasp on romance he would try to figure out how any of it made sense. To say you love someone you’d known for only a few days. Could they actually mean it, or did something else cause the words to spring from their lips?

“It’s just movies,” his father would tell him. “A lot of things are exaggerated for film.”

“Have you been in love?”

“I think I have, yes.”

“You think?”

“It sadly did not end well. But, I do love you. And I love your brothers.”

“But that’s different.”

“Of course, but all love is different, for every person you feel it for.”

Truthfully, it’d been one of the wisest things his father had ever told him. Donatello took note of it, took note of how he felt toward his brothers, toward April, toward his father.

And now, how he felt toward Jase.

He was right, it was all different, but not in a way that Donatello cared to analyze or define. Explaining how he felt always felt like an impossible task. He knew he felt things, but putting it into words? An impossible translation. Like trying to illustrate to his brain what the color yellow actually looked like.

Lucky ass shrimp.

Still, he began to wonder if maybe five months of dating was long enough to say something like “I love you.”

That wouldn’t be too forward, right?

He did love Jase, didn’t he? Or was it still sitting in an attraction phase? He tried to muddle through it, pick through the details, but once again it turned into garbage noise.

He didn’t really know. Maybe he should just try it and see if it felt right.

The opportunity presented itself after a phone conversation. It’d just been a quiet evening. Donatello felt idle, none of his jobs or inventions keeping his attention, so he called Jase for a quick conversation. Jase didn’t want to stay on long, still having an essay to finish, but he still wound up prattling on about all the research he was doing into the topic. A paper about all the accurate scientific descriptions in I, Robot.

Donatello soaked in every word, leaning back in his chair with a smile on his face that he didn’t even notice until the conversation wrapped up. Gods, most days he could listen to Jase talk like this for hours. All the smiling made his cheeks hurt, but he kept doing it. His chest kept buzzing, and he felt so light he wondered if he’d start floating off his chair.

“Anyway,” Jase finally said. “I better get back to finishing it.”

“Yeah,” Donatello agreed. “Um, Jase?”

“Yeah?”

Now, he should say it now, right? Because what other word was there for this kind of feeling? “I love you.”

The silence that followed was deafening.

Donatello could hear the very faint line of static from the phone. He held his breath the entire time, and it lasted so long he almost gasped for air when his lungs started to hurt.

“Um, Jase?” He finally asked, wondering if the line flat out disconnected.

“I…” His voice shook. “I’m gonna get back to work.”

“Jase?”

This time the line did cut off. Donatello stared at his phone in disbelief, watching it return to the home screen.

What just happened?

He swiftly opened his texts, typing as fast as he could.

>Did I say something wrong??

No immediate reply. That was… fine. It was fine. Jase was busy with homework, after all. Maybe he put his phone far away.

He decided to do the same thing before his anxiety ate him alive. He left the device on his work desk and headed to the kitchen for a snack and some water.

When he returned, an hour later, there was still no reply.

Anxiety made him want to throw up the cheese puffs and beef jerky he just ate.

>Jase?? Are you still working on stuff? >Please just reply when you can.

Donatello took a few deep breaths, tried to put it out of his mind. Jase would reply when he was less busy, and ready, it’d be fine.

But sitting there idle didn’t make him feel better, so Donatello did the only thing he could think of.

“I might have ruined everything.” He said the second he slammed open the door to his father’s room.

Splinter shouted in surprise. One of his slippers flew into the air as he stumbled off his bed, the noise of the TV blocking out the sound of him hitting the floor.

“Purple, what?” Splinter forced himself up, popping his back as he did. “What is going on?”

“I might have ruined everything.” Donatello rambled as he paced back and forth, hands on his head. “Was he just not ready to hear it? Did I say it too soon? But five months is a decent amount of time, right?”

“Purple!” His father shouted. “What are you talking about?”

“Jase.” He turned to look at him. “I… I told him I love him on the phone earlier and he just ended the call and won’t reply to my texts.”

His father’s expression became serious, his ear twitching. “Perhaps he is just feeling overwhelmed?”

“I did say it too soon, didn’t I? Ugh, I knew I should have tried to do some more calculations to—”

“My son, this is not something you can calculate.”

“Then when am I supposed to say it?” He failed to stop himself from shouting. “I don’t…”

Splinter approached him, hand out, but he didn’t grab Donatello. “Did you say it because you felt that way, or because you assumed it had to be said.”

“I did feel that way. I do.” The buzzing in his chest from earlier returned, but somehow it hurt. “But I… I must have upset him. I shouldn’t have said it.”

“Hmm,” Splinter’s ear twitched again and he lowered his hand. “These are not things you can calculate or predict, Donatello. You were being honest with your feelings. All you can do now is wait for Jase to be honest about his.”

“What if he never wants to talk to me again?”

“Hmph, I highly doubt that is the case.” Splinter nudged him toward the door. “Try not to worry so much. You surprised him. He needs some space. I am sure he will reply to your texts soon enough.”

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Two days.

No response.

Donatello didn’t know what to do. He left a few more texts, all of them going unanswered. He tried to leave an apology. An explanation. But maybe both of those were useless because he had no idea what upset Jase in the first place.

He tried to focus on his work but he couldn’t. Holly Blue noted how distracted he was. He told her what happened, but she didn’t have any good advice. Her own words.

“Love has never been good to me, Donatello. My experiences are too far removed from yours.”

He tried to distract himself with movies, but that failed. Tried to help Mikey with one of his murals, with letting Leo practice some magic tricks on him, with way too much extra training with Raph to the point he badly pulled a muscle in his shoulder.

“Donnie,” Raph said during a massage session to undo the damage. “What is going on?”

“I don’t know.” He tried not to cry. “I don’t know.”

It was pathetic to be panicking this much, wasn’t it? His father was probably right. Jase just needed space to think.

But what if…

What if.

His anxiety made him stressed. His stress made him lash out.

So finally he sent one more text.

>If you want to break up then just say that.

He stared at the text, at the colored background. His head screamed at him on loop that he shouldn’t have said something like that.

Finally, those three flashing dots appeared. Finally, he got a reply.

>I don’t want to break up

Donatello glared at the screen, past the blurriness of the tears lining the bottom of his eyes.

>Then SAY SOMETHING ! >U know I can’t stand being left in the dark !

>I just needed some space

>For what???? >U can’t even tell me u need space?

He wanted to say so many other things. He even started typing them, fingers darting across the keys. “How DARE you.” “That’s so unfair.” “Why are you doing this to me?”

In the end, he deleted all of it and tossed his phone on the bed to wipe his eyes and try to clear the lump out of his throat.

It buzzed.

He ignored the urge to chuck it at the wall and instead read what was on screen.

>Do you want to come over?

Donatello glared again as he typed.

>Do you even want me to come over?

>I don’t hate you or anything

>Then why are you doing this?

>Just come over>I’ll try to explain

The temptation to ghost his boyfriend out of spite sat in the back of his mind, but he ignored that. It would absolutely make things worse.

So he grabbed his shell and his jacket, and flew out of the lair.

When he got to Jase’s house, the window was already open. Donatello pulled himself inside, finding Jase sitting on the bed. He had his sleep shirt on, eyes tired and mouth twisted like he was trying not to vomit.

He glanced in Donatello’s direction, but couldn’t hold his gaze.

Donatello straightened up, dusting off his jacket. “So, what’s the explanation? Any particular reason you decided to ignore my texts for two whole days while I’ve been utterly losing my mind worried that I upset you to the point you never wanted to see me again.”

Jase curled up, wrapping his arms around his knees. “Donnie…”

That didn’t sound like an explanation. “Did me saying ‘I love you’ upset you that much? It’s not like I expected you to say it back.”

“It didn’t upset me.”

Donatello shouted, “Then what’s wrong?”

Jase shouted back, “I got scared, okay?”

Donatello flinched, reminding himself to not scream. It’d just frighten Jase more, then they’d never get to the bottom of this. He paced around for a few moments before finally sitting on the floor and picking at the carpet. “Does the thought of me loving you scare you that much?”

“No it’s not you it’s—I mean it’s not just you it…” Jase sighed and hid his face in his knees.

Donatello tried to be patient and wait for him to finish, still pulling the fibers out of the rug. It really needed to be replaced. Just how old was it? He could practically see the layers of dirt if he squinted hard enough.

“Donnie.”

He glanced back up. “Yeah?”

Jase let out a long breath. “I… I’m in love with you and it’s terrifying.”

Donatello’s eyes went wide. His chest buzzed and his cheeks burned, but confusion still sat at the forefront of everything. “What?”

Jase kept hiding his face, nails digging into his arms. “You said you love me and I realized that I love you too and I got… scared. I know it was a jerk move for me to go radio silent but I didn’t know what to say. I didn’t want you to think you did something wrong, because you didn’t, but I just…”

Donatello pushed himself up off the floor and got closer to the bed. “Why does it scare you?”

“Because…” Jase’s voice wavered and he sniffed. “Because I keep thinking it’s not going to last.”

Donatello narrowed his eyes and put his hand on the mattress. “Jase, I told you—”

“I know.” His boyfriend snapped, finally looking up. “I know. You tell me all the time, but it’s not that simple. It constantly feels like I’m just another big screw up—like ghosting you for two days—for you to decide I’ve been nothing but a waste of time.”

“Jase, if your last major screw up didn’t scare me off what makes you think—”

“Don’t pretend you aren’t mad.”

Donatello groaned. “Fine. Yes. I’m mad. But it’s still not enough to make me leave. I’m here. I’m talking about this. Because that’s all I wanted from the start, was to talk about it. And like I said, you could have at least told me you need space but you didn’t say anything.”

“I know.” Jase rested his chin back on his knees. “I’m sorry.”

Donatello sat down on the bed, but still kept a fair distance between them just in case. “Jase, I’m bad with feelings. I don’t often know how to identify my own and when other people try to talk about theirs I always try to treat it with logic instead of… well, feeling.” He shrugged and rolled his eyes. “And it’s true, I don’t get it. I don’t get how your brain works sometimes. But just because I’m bad at understanding doesn’t mean leaving me in the dark makes it better.”

His boyfriend let out a long sigh. “I know.”

Donatello pressed his lips together. There really wasn’t point in another lecture. Jase already knew what he did wrong. He pulled his legs up onto the bed as he turned to face his boyfriend. “Would… you like a hug?”

Jase looked up at him, his expression just a bit brighter than it had been for this entire conversation. He finally left his guarded position and scooted over.

Donatello opened his arms, ready to pull his boyfriend into a hug, so he was very unprepared for Jase’s hands to grab his face and tug him into a kiss instead. Not a short one either, as Jase’s hands moved to the back of Donatello’s neck. Donatello’s eyes fell shut as his arms wrapped around his boyfriend and pulled him onto his lap.

Still, Jase pulled away before it got too deep. “You really love me?”

Donatello’s eyes fluttered back open. He reached a hand up, brushing away the stray tears he found clinging to Jase’s eyelashes. “I really really love you. Two reallys.”

Jase sighed, leaning close so their foreheads touched. “I really really love you too.”

#scribbly fics #jasonnie #rottmnt #me like: Jase would be the type to panic after the first 'i love you'#and then I proceeded to upset myself #also random rambling #donnie isn't colorblind #though I did learn turtles can see more shades of red than us #anyway humans can't actually see the color yellow #our brain just makes it up based on a best guess from the RGB cones we do have #insane shit

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thislovintime · 1 year

Photo

Peter Tork at his family home in Connecticut, 2016; photo by Cloe Poisson.

“I have to say that the adjustments from one phase of my life and career to another have happened almost without my noticing it. I never made any preparations; I had no idea what I was getting myself into from one minute to the next, usually, so what could I do to prepare? I honestly don’t believe anyone knows what’s going to happen. How anybody prepares for the future (beyond a prudent financial plan) is beyond me. So, I guess my advice is, expect the unexpected, and roll with it to the best of your ability.” - Peter Tork, Ask Peter Tork, The Daily Panic, 2008

“‘A good attitude generates more comfort. When people say, “Why me?” and “How could this happen?” or “Somebody must be made to pay for my problems,” that attitude is a low-skill approach. It's not very contentment-making,’ Tork said in an interview last week. And while he added that he's not afraid to die, it's not because he believes in a glorious afterlife. ‘I don't like pain and I don't want to hurt, but the sheer fact of dying in and of itself is of no consequence to me,’ he said. ‘When I die, there won't be a 'me' of any kind. There won't be anything, no collection of what we think of as an immutable, individual something or other.’” - Toledo Blade, November 2009

Dear Peter, I followed your cancer fight last summer on Facebook and was sooooooooo glad when you got the good news of no more cancer! That was the best news I’ve ever gotten. Did you learn anything while being sick that you didn’t know before you got cancer? Cancer is scary and you were so brave. Love, Kathy

Dear Kathy, Thank you for your good wishes! As to your question: If by “learn” you mean did I change my philosophy after I got my diagnosis, no, I have to say I didn’t. I’ve been at this business of figuring out my life for a long time, and if I didn’t have a philosophy of life that included the possibility of having cancer, and even of dying of it, well, then I haven’t done a good job in crafting a working philosophy, have I? If, on the other hand, you mean did I discover how quickly and well I bounce back from radiation treatment, well, yeah, I’m a lucky guy, and I learned that to a new extent during the course of this adventure. When I got my initial diagnosis, I admit I had a good cry for a bit. Crying wasn’t part of my plan, exactly, but neither was it a black mark in my book, as far as I’m concerned. The gift was that immediately afterwards I was able to ask what the next thing was to do, and went about doing that without a lot of “why me?” or other such attitudes I regard as diversionary. I highly recommend keeping the question “What’s the next right thing?” at the forefront of the mind as an antidote to self-pity and other distractions. It works for me. Thanks for asking. Keep well, Peter - Ask Peter Tork, 2009 (x)

Q: “Do you believe in anything? Like, if you were to die, do you believe that you will go anywhere, or come back, or anything?” “do I believe in anything? yes, I most certainly do. I have a transcendent belief in the people (in the long run, that is, knowing that individuals are all flawed). I believe there are certain things which are true across all of humanity, tho’ I don’t know what they all are. I probably don’t know what 1% of them are, but I’m sure they’re there! I believe that community is built into us (we are social animals, after all.) as to my understanding of what happens when I (or you) die, I base my understanding on something I believe to be true, which is that however much we may talk about things in their parts, they are not actually parts making up a whole, but rather partial ways of seeing. the buddha said (I am told) that you can separate the flame from the fire, but only in your mind. therefore, I believe that when the person dies, it all stops. I don’t believe that there is a part of our individual selves which is not subject to the laws of decay. meanwhile, I do take heart from the parallel notion that just as the body decays and becomes part of new life, so, too, our understanding and ideals become part of some new combination of thought yet to come. but as to my individual self continuing past death and re-emerging in another incarnation, or in some real estate in the sky relieved of all trouble, no. (heaven is in your mind, as the old traffic song said.) thanks for asking, xo, peter” - Facebook, 2012

Q: "How are you doing these days after your battle with cancer many years ago?" Peter Tork: "I am all right and thank you for asking. I have high energy, no symptoms, and hope to live to be 103." - Florida Today, May 10, 2016

#Peter Tork #Tork quotes #00s Tork #10s Tork #<3 #bearded Peter #more for the solid Tork advice files #long read #<333 #💔#time is always too short #so much respect for PT #love his mind #2008 #2009 #2012 #2016 #Ask Peter Tork #can you queue it

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dumplingsjinson · 7 months

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I will say this, I’m from the south and we sometimes refer to it as “courting” and it’s more a phase where you aren’t seeing any one else and you’re just talking and holding hands and hanging out. Once you get to the point where you’re kissing, that’s when the boyfriend girlfriend stage either kicks in because you’re serious, or you realized you don’t have a spark and you separate as “just friends.”

I will say I was in this phase in my last relationship for 6 months before we started claiming each other as boyfriend-girlfriend. So it can take some time. But idk, I felt like it could have very easy for him to just walk away and I didn’t appreciate that feature. Lucky for me it turned into a two year relationship which I look back at fondly, but it very easily could have turned into a situationship if he hadn’t been a good guy.

Just trust your instincts, because the deciding factor is if he’s a good guy or not and if you feel like you can trust him.

That was a really interesting read, thanks for sharing!!

Dating culture is different everywhere, and it's also not a one-size-fits all thing to be very honest. Every individual is different in how they approach this, but at the end of the day, being on the same page is important, and you're right; if he isn't a good guy, it will show eventually, and if that's the case then I'll up and leave.

But if he's a good guy then hey, I get to keep him for however long it may be. :) I'm gonna take this time to sus him out.

#anon asks #not prompts

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mrbexwrites · 11 months

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Relationship Snippets Tag

Tagged by @talesofsorrowandofruin and her snippet can be found here

Thank you so much for the tag :) Rules: Share a few lines or a snippet that sums up the main relationship(s) in your WIP.

Sharing a snippet from Memento Mori Part III, which showcases Morgana’s relationship with a couple of her siblings from the Investiture; Avery and Frieda.

I really enjoy writing Avery, as they’re just a larger-than-life, happy-go-lucky non-binary superstar. I enjoy writing them so much, I am honestly considering writing some flash fiction just to have an excuse to see more of them! Anywho, snippet below:

“Deathkins!” Avery and Frieda teleported into the middle of the sofa area. Avery, glorious as ever, looked like they’d been eaten by a giant cheese puff. A cream cable knit sweater hung off their frame, with ripped designer jeans that no doubt cost more than my yearly stipend from the Investiture. But it was the oversized faux fur jacket that really finished off the look; fluorescent orange was a hard colour to pull off, but Avery owned it.

They pushed their sunglasses up into their blue, swept back hair that was undercut at the side.

Avery gave me air-kisses in greeting, sensing not to touch me. Frieda, dressed in her usual black garb, and hair in a messy pixie cut just gave me a wave.

“Honey! Darling! When I let you use my penthouse, I thought you were going to be recoupering and resting, not getting yourself into this amount of shit!” Avery pulled out their phone, and held up a video. I recognised the ‘Skeptikz’ logo straight away, and the faces of Markus and Eilidh filled the screen. They looked horrified. The camera, with its shaky visuals, panned around to show me lying in a pool of blood, the young medical examiner leaning over me. He leapt out of his skin when I opened my eyes.

Avery put their phone away.

“But I love the outfit. It’s so gauche! Space cat? I want one. It suits you more than your Reject Stevie Nicks phase,” Avery ushered us into the penthouse. “So, I want you to tell me everything!”

They made sure to keep out of range in case the dried and congealing blood stained their white clothes.

“But you should get a shower first, Deathkins. You look awful,” Avery noticed Nora and Ted. “Well, hello. And who is this long, tall, drink of milk?”

“Nice to meet you, ma’am...uh….sir...uhm….?” Ted floundered.

“Oh sweetie! Just call me Avery, that’s enough.”

“This is Deputy Ted Ward,” I stepped in to save Ted, who was blushing furiously, mortified about mis-gendering my sibling.

“A policeman, huh,” Avery’s eyes narrowed, and they took a fistfull of Ted’s t-shirt and pulled him in close. Avery was easily six foot tall, and with their stiletto heeled boots, they towered over Ted. “Let me make one thing clear. Morgana is very dear to us,” they pointed back to Frieda, who pointed to her eyes, and then back at Ted in the universal sign for ‘I’m watching you’. Ted swallowed, and looked nervous. “The last policeman Morgana worked with didn’t treat her very well, and broke her heart. So if you’re thinking of doing the same….well, lets just say, Fred’ll drop you into the ocean and you’ll be eaten alive by sharks. Morgy won’t be able to bring you back when you’re just fish-chow. Capiche?”

Keeping the tag open to anyone who wants to join, but poking @arowanaprincess @akiwitch @the-orangeauthor @arigalefantasynovels @iced-ginger-tea specifically to see if they want to join in :)

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gayluigi · 10 months

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Adventures in DDNOS:

I’ve discovered two new alters/fragments!! At first, I thought I only had one, Liz (my only named fragment), who’s my protector. I’ve known about her since she took shape when I was in middle school, but she’s had phases where she wasn’t around for a while, or at least not that I was aware. She used to be a “too cool for school” arrogant kind of personality, but now she’s kind of mellowed (if you can call it that) into a brash, excitable older sister. She loves messing with people, and when I’m with my partners, she likes slapping their asses super hard to haze them 🤣 especially my fiancé!! (Once she made me slap my boyfriend’s ass super hard and he was like “DAMN I guess you’re REALLY getting comfortable around me now” 🤣)

So the new parts!!

First we’ve got my customer service alter. They REALLY weird my fiancé out 🤣 They’ll show up and my fiancé‘s like “you’re using your customer service voice again 😒” 🤣 I usually am dissociating pretty hard when they show up when I’m not at work. But I’m really lucky to have them bc they are AMAZING at masking my autism. It’s kinda funny bc sometimes we’ll blip and they’ll disappear for a second and I’ll totally fumble my scripting and get all flustered when I’m at work lolol!!! I only just got a job recently, last week was my first week, and they have been SO HELPFUL!!! They used to base their masking on my older cousin, but now they base it on one of my assistant managers bc her customer service voice is so great. It’s pretty funny whenever I go into work and they’re like “ok it is MY TIME” 🤣

And then I’ve got my little!!! They kinda make me baby talk. Like for example, my dad was getting me a shake from McDonald’s earlier and he asked me what flavor I wanted, and the little was like “choccit” instead of chocolate. I’ve done this for a long while, but I never realized WHY I was doing it. Also, they are VERY shy (and easily embarrassed) and they do NOT like being talked to. Like my parents will be talking to/at me and the little will be SO FRUSTRATED bc they just wanna be left alone. They truly just wanna vibe and play games and do their own thing. They’re the low spoons alter, essentially, and they hold a LOT of autism symptoms. They’re HORRIBLE at masking. They also have a signature stim that I never knew I had until my mom pointed it out today— they like to make the corners of my mouth twitch rhythmically. So that’s pretty interesting.

So with my DDNOS, it’s not like DID. I don’t fully leave the driver’s seat whenever my alters decide to show up. I don’t have amnesia either. It’s like I’m sitting in the driver’s seat, I’m pressing the gas pedal, but the alters have a hold of the steering wheel and are dictating how I behave. It’s like I’m carbonated water, and they’re the syrup that flavors me, if that makes sense. I can’t think of a better analogy at the moment. So that’s why I haven’t really been able to identify my alters before. I just thought I was in Really Weird Moods, but now I’m discovering identifiable patterns of behavior that are making me realize that they’re actually alters.

I’m not actually diagnosed with DDNOS yet, and I’m not sure I’m GOING to seek a diagnosis due to the societal detriments that professional diagnosis can bring. I know I dissociate, I have for a long time. I once spent an entire year or so in a severe dissociative state after a traumatic event (losing my friend Jaydan to cancer when we were both 18). It was really bad. So I know I dissociate, I know that’s part of who I am. I just didn’t really realize I had alters until super recently. It’s pretty cool, realizing that there’s actually a REASON for this and it’s not just me having incredibly wild shifts of mood/behavior/mindsets. I could never figure it out! But now I know!! It’s really cool.

And now I’m not the only non-system in my polycule 🤣🤣🤣 I’m not the odd one out anymore!! That’s fun hahaha!! I’ve found that brainweird people tend to find each other. Most of my friends are neurodivergent in one way or another.

#ddnos #ddnos system #alters #Liz #unnamed alters

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bigxrig · 1 year

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one line, any fic

thank you @larrieblr @neondiamond and @disgruntledkittenface for tagging me!

Pick any 10 of your fics, scroll somewhere to the mid point, pick a line, and share it! Then tag 10 people

Like A Prayer “I am going to untie you from the ceiling now okay, princess?”

Big Rig That earned a laugh from Jamie which made Harry preen under the attention. Harry rattled off his number and Jamie left with a promise to text him, leaving Harry feeling giddy and excited over the prospect of spending time with Jamie that wasn’t in the gym.

Kiss Me Again, You Fool Louis laughs and shakes his head. “If only you knew how hard I try. You blow everyone else out of the water when you walk into the office every day. I never thought I would grow so attached to sweater vests, but when you don’t wear one, I get sad.”

Deafening Silence Standing in the center of the street staring right at Harry was a creature darker than the night sky.

Zoey Harry’s head snapped up to see Dr. Tomlinson enter the room. It felt very reminiscent of the time he went to see Twilight in theaters with his mom and sister and all the women gasped at the sight of Carlisle. He understood where they were coming from with their reactions. He swore the light everywhere but above Dr. Tomlinson went out. Angels were singing, the planets were aligning.

As It Was Harry did want this, more than he was willing to admit. It was scary to be faced with a decision that felt bigger than the situation he found himself in. He hadn’t talked to Louis about his desires for little space beyond sex and he wasn’t sure if it was worth it since they didn’t have any concrete plans beyond Louis’ time in LA.

The Dress Emma couldn’t deny that request; they were only human after all. They were self-conscious of the stale lipstick on their lips and hoped Harry didn’t mind. He didn’t seem to, if the urgency in which he kissed them was any indication. Emma could feel Harris helping them step out of the bodysuit, and maybe they could have helped, but kissing Harry was infinitely better.

Take a Chance “My dad,” Harry sighed. “My dad was a different story. He didn’t really react, honestly. I think back on it and it’s still so weird to me. The first year Liam and I started dating, was also my first year going to pride and my dad was so confused. He thought I was straight again, and it was a phase. I explained to him what bisexuality was and he just said okay again,” Harry shrugged.

Jealousy, Jealousy “It’s not a big deal,” Louis reassured him. “You’re an incredible alpha, Harry and I’m so lucky you are mine.”

Medicine Baby Take My Medicine "I'm not going to last long," Harry admitted.

I will tag everyone in the @writerscornercafe discord! Mostly because I don’t know who has already done this. And anyone who sees this want to post yours, consider yourself tagged!

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sammysdewysensitiveeyes · 2 years

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'I came out here to attack people and I’m honestly having such a good time right now."

(This is comics canon universe, rather than Alt-Marauders.)

“For once we’re on the same wavelength, Shaw,” Pyro said. They were crouched together behind the make-shift wall. For the moment, they were assigned team-mates, but Pyro fully expected that alliance would fall apart as soon as the last member of the other team went down. He intended to shoot Shaw in the back before that happened.

“I thought it was a waste of time at first, but I must admit, a good hit brings quite a lot of…satisfaction.” Sebastian poked his head over the wall with a grim smile, and fired a few rounds into the smoke before ducking back down again.

The smoke was courtesy of Pyro, who had parts of the course burning on either side of them. Pyro would have preferred a wall of flame to melt away incoming projectiles, but Sebastian had argued that would block their ability to fire back, so they’d settled on smoke obscuring the area while they ran from one piece of cover to the next.

Bishop had been the one to suggest it, as a fun training exercise that was a break from the usual sparring. After some prodding, he had also confessed that he wanted to try it at his newly-created war college, and was using the Marauders as a test run to be sure it wouldn’t all end in disaster.

But why not, really? The X-Men apparently played baseball and basketball all the time, so why not paintball? And paintball with powers allowed? Double the pleasure, double the fun.

Emma had “volunteered” to oversee the match, scanning the players to ensure there was no cheating. She claimed that her powers would give her too much of an advantage to participate anyway, but Pyro suspected she just didn’t want paint on her immaculate white clothing or flawless diamond body. He would have expected the same vanity from Mr. Fancy-Pants 18th-century LARPer Sebastian Shaw, but Sebastian had actually ripped his shirt to pieces, quite enthusiastically, the moment the match had started, citing something about greater freedom of movement.

The game had already destroyed a good portion of the course, which was why Shaw and Pyro were ducking behind the few bits of cover left, hoping to avoid anything that Iceman sent their way. They were lucky Storm was on Arakko, otherwise a small localized hurricane would have ended the game very quickly.

Bishop and Callisto, the two favorites to win, had managed, after a spectacularly choreographed one-on-one duel, to take each other out.

Kate, another favorite due to her ability to stay phased for literally the entire game – something Emma insisted was “fair” within the rules of mutant paintball – had been unable to resist the urge to solidify enough of herself to punch Sebastian in the jaw, and wound up with a paintball splatter on her hand. “Worth it,” she had declared.

Jumbo Carnation had come in with four guns blazing, but only managed to take out Christian Frost before falling to a barrage from Iceman. Christian had made no attempt to duck, and was now sitting on the observation platform with Emma, holding a cocktail and looking very smug. Well, it was his loss. Pyro was having a great time, and he fully intended to either win or go down in a blaze of glory.

After a long moment crouched behind the wall, Pyro cautiously poked his head up. Nothing. Not even a faint outline or a chill in the air to indicate the presence of Bobby Drake, one of the last obstacles standing between Pyro and victory. Admittedly, Pyro liked Bobby a great deal more than bloody Shaw, but for the time being, he and Sebastian were on the same team.

“Where is he?”

“Perhaps he’s also decided to hole up somewhere on the course and wait for us to come to him,” Sebastian mused. “He’s young and lacking in patience. Soon enough he’ll break and show himself.”

Another long moment stretched by in silence. Pyro fidgeted, scratched at a pesky itch under his knee, wiped the sweat off his face and smoothed his hair back, day-dreamed about sending a wall of fire through the entire course (off limits – they couldn’t actually kill each other), and checked his watch again to discover that only five minutes had passed.

“Aw, fuck this, I’m bored.” Pyro stood up.

“You’re making a mistake,” Sebastian said, without much interest. “But if you want to go throw yourself in front of Iceman’s paint gun, it’s really no skin off my nose.”

“Better that than dying of ennui over here,” Pyro declared, wrapping himself in flame as he stepped around the wall and set out into the smoke. The fire shield had worked so far – in past Brotherhood missions he’d been able to melt actual bullets before they reached him, he could easily melt the pellets and evaporate the ink before it even touched his skin.

“Using words like ‘ennui’ doesn’t make your decision any smarter!” Sebastian called after him. Pyro paid no mind. Win or lose, he was not going to spend a paintball tournament sitting behind cover.

Pyro didn’t get far. A river of ice came snaking down the course, and twined itself around his legs. He pushed up the intensity of the flames, enough that the ice became water and then steam, while firing paint pellets wildly towards the source of the ice, still obscured in smoke.

If they were playing fair, Pyro thought, any hit on the ice should count – it was originally part of Drake’s body, wasn’t it? But Emma had said that, going by that rule, any hit on fire, including fire that was no longer attached to Pyro, should count, so Pyro had reluctantly conceded the point.

The cold came back. It was a sharp, intense cold, the kind that sent a shock through his system as it touched him. The ice kept reforming, as fast as he could melt it away, and Pyro realized that it was making gains each time, creeping up his legs until he could no longer run. Pyro tried to think of those glorious wildfires that would sweep across the outback, but instead he was thinking of frozen tundras, penguins huddling against Antarctic winds, the lifeless chill of space. He was thinking about how desperately he did not want that ice anywhere near his dick.

Gritting his teeth, Pyro shoved the flames downward, melting the ice off his legs again and, at the same time, sent a stream of fire through the smoke, towards the area where he knew that stupid overgrown snowman was lurking. The ice river became a torrent of water, as Pyro followed the flame, charging forward.

Then, another intense chill came rushing at him, and he could not duck in time to prevent the ice-stream from wrapping around his chest, pinning his arms to his sides. Pyro gasped involuntarily at the shock of the cold, and struggled to breathe for a moment, wondering if Iceman had somehow managed to accidentally put him into cardiac arrest. (Hey, that would mean a forfeit, since they weren’t allowed to kill each other.) Then, a paint-ball pellet splattered against his forehead.

“Augh, you got it in my eyes, you dick!” Pyro spluttered, struggling to free his arms. Fuck. He’d lost his concentration and let the firewall dissolve, although he could still feel bits of it burning on either side of him.

“Sorry, man,” came Bobby’s voice, and then a frozen hand was wiping paint off his face. “You put up a good fight, but only one of us is Omega.”

“Oh, shut up,” Pyro said, without too much malice. He hated to lose, but it had been fun. “Stand back while I get this shit off me.” He pulled the remnants of the firewall up around himself again, blazing it hot enough to turn the ice into steam again and drive the chill out of his bones.

Iceman, his perfect translucent body without a fleck of paint on it, was standing there grinning at him. The bastard. The nice, likable, sexy bastard.

“Good game, man.” Bobby put out his hand to shake, and Pyro took it.

“Yeah, cheers, mate. You should know, though, Shaw is still out there, and – “

Pyro was cut off neon green spots exploded across Bobby’s chest, a couple of them splattering into Pyro’s back and shoulder as well. Sebastian Shaw emerged from the smoke, triumphant and smirking. How the fuck did someone so huge manage to sneak up like that?

“Well done, Pyro, you managed to distract him long enough for me to gain the advantage!” Shaw declared.

“That is NOT what I was intending to do!” Pyro protested. “We didn’t have a plan or anything like that! He’s just a sneaky shit.”

“Yeah, I get it.” Iceman’s smile stayed in place, although he looked a bit rueful. “Well played, Sebastian, I have to admit. I let my guard down.”

“Both of you have a lot of learn about strategy. You rely too much on the force of your powers, but an successful man waits and plans. I win because I know how to strategize, because I bide my time and understand the weaknesses of the enemy – “

Sebastian was cut off as a splash of purple paint splattered across his cheek, followed by several more along his arm and side. It was glorious, Pyro thought. An absolutely work of fucking art. He would keep Sebastian’s shocked face, paint leaking into his sideburns, in his memory bank forever, to pull up whenever he needed a laugh.

Shinobi emerged, literally coming out of the course wall. Unlike Kate, he had kept himself phased the entire time. Pyro had forgotten he was even playing.

“Shinobi, you beaut!” Pyro exclaimed. “You just made my entire day!” It helped that Shinobi was also on their team, although at this point it was really about the last man standing.

“Well done, dude!” Bobby offered a thumbs up.

“What were you saying, Father? About success? Do, please tell us more.” Shinobi smirked, holding up his paint gun in a pose that would have looked appropriate on a Charlie’s Angels poster.

Sebastian scoffed, pulling out a handkerchief to wipe his face.

“Shinobi. Skulking and hiding while the rest of us do the work. I can’t say I’m surprised.”

“A successful man waits and plans, right Father? That’s what I did. And that’s why I won.”

For a moment, Sebastian looked appraisingly at Shinobi. Then, he nodded. “Yes, so you did. Well done, you little shit.”

#pyro #st john allerdyce #sebastian shaw #iceman #bobby drake #shinobi shaw

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depressedhatakekakashi · 2 years

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Asking For Help

Words: 1239

For: @animetrashmuffin who is always so kind and deserves some cute KakaIru (even if Kakashi isn't present) <3 <3 <3

This was it.

The most terrifying day of Umino Iruka’s life.

There wasn’t a mission out there that Lady Tsunade could assign that would scare him as much as sitting at the dinner table in Hatake Yua’s home with the Hatake Matriarch smiling at him from the other side of the table.

It was a sweet smile. The kind that told Iruka he could let his guard down and relax. Yet, no matter how hard he tried he couldn’t do it. His heart was racing too fast, and his palms were too sweaty. His reason for meeting up with her tonight wasn’t a relaxing hang-out.

He had something very important to ask her tonight.

“Iruka, relax,” She spoke with the same calmness in her voice that she always had. As if nothing could phase her. “You should know by now that I’m not going to bite.”

He chuckled awkwardly at the joke. Once upon a time Iruka might have genuinely thought she would snap his head off at the smallest insult, but he had learned over the years that she was just as cool-headed and calculated as her son.

In fact, she made Kakashi look like a hot head at times. Where he might snap in a moment of annoyance, she would simply continue smiling and offer a second chance for the offender to rethink what they were doing.

“I’m just… it’s a lot,” he whispered, curling his fingers into a fist against his knees. “I have a very important question to ask you today and I don’t really know how to start.”

There were a ton of ideas swimming around in his brain, but they wouldn’t stay still long enough for him to come up with a coherent plan. No matter how many calming breaths he took, or how often he reminded himself that he had shared laughs with this woman at Kakashi’s expense, he just couldn’t get rid of the fear bubbling up inside of him.

The fear that she would say no.

That she’d suddenly decide that he wasn’t good enough for Kakashi.

It was irrational. Iruka and Kakashi had been together for three years and during that time Yua had been nothing but kind to him. She’d told him embarrassing stories about his boyfriend that he knew he’d never have heard if he hadn’t met her. She invited him over to dinner all the time, with and without Kakashi.

The two of them got along just as well as he and Kakashi did. Even better than him and Kakashi even, possibly because Yua was one of the few people that Iruka could always trust to be truthful with him. To have his back in an argument when Kakashi was in the wrong, or to call him out and put him in his place if he was the one who had screwed up.

Talking to her had always been so easy before today.

“Just take your time,” settling back into her seat she closed her eyes. Her soft smile growing into something more playful. “You can tell me your plans for asking my son to marry you when you’re ready.”

The matter-of-fact way she spoke caught him off guard. Not once since he had decided to take the next step in his relationship with Kakashi had he mentioned it to her. He’d spent the last few months toiling over whether he was really ready for such a big change in his relationship, and here Yua was acting like it was nothing.

As if he was worrying over nothing.

“How…”

“You’re rather easy to read,” she teased. “Oh, and telling Gai about your plans to find the perfect ring probably wasn’t the best way to keep a secret. You’re lucky he was smart enough to run to me with that exciting news instead of tackling Kakashi and congratulating him prematurely.”

Iruka wasn’t sure how he was supposed to feel about Gai running around telling his secrets, though he was thankful that the man had refrained from running after his eternal rival to gush about everything Iruka had told him. That no doubt took a lot of strength on Gai’s part.

What he did feel wasn’t anger or disappointment, but relief.

Relief at the knowledge that he didn’t have to figure out how to tell Yua about his intentions to ask her son to marry him. Most importantly there was a sense of ease when she chose to take a teasing route upon opening up the discussion. It meant she wasn’t against the idea.

“Well,” relaxing his hands, he took a deep breath and straightened himself up. “I was hoping that you might be able to help me.”

“Help?” she tilted her head. “What do you need my help with?”

“I want to make this perfect,” he explained. “Something that Kakashi will remember forever with fondness. I’ve had a few ideas but when it comes down to it I don’t think any of them are as memorable as I’d like them to be.”

No matter what he did, how much thought he put into his plans, it all ended the same. Crumpled-up balls of paper littered his bedroom floor while he fought back the urge to call it quits and cry.

No one had told him that proposing to the love of his life would be this hard.

“How about I make some tea?” Yua stood up from her chair and smiled down at him. “With a nice warm drink, we’ll be able to plot out that perfect proposal together.”

It all sounded too good to be true. Iruka had come here hoping for help, but he hadn’t imagined he would get it so easily. Yua usually preferred to pull his chain a little. Mess around with his head and make him think about all the reason’s he loved Kakashi.

Every visit with her was a fresh reminder of all the reasons he adored Kakashi, and he had no doubt it was the same for Kakashi when he stopped by for dinner with his mother.

“Stop acting so surprised,” making her way around the table, Yua extended two fingers and poked him in the side of the head, right above his temple. A firm but light poke that forced him out of his mind and back into the present. “You didn’t think I’d have a problem with it, did you?”

“Well, I-“

“I should have known,” her eyes sparkled with amusement. “Quit doubting yourself, Iruka. If I didn’t want you to marry my son I would have made that clear from day one.”

That he could believe. Kakashi had gotten his bluntness from his mother for sure. With the two of them in his life Iruka was certain he would never have to worry about walking out the front door of his house looking like an idiot.

“Well, how about I help you?” he suggested. “I could learn how to make tea.”

“On one condition.”

“Anything.”

“Don’t touch my stove,” she smiled innocently. “I would like to avoid burning down my kitchen this evening.”

Iruka wanted to argue, but as with most things that Yua said it was true.

Cooking simply was not something he should be trusted with.

Thankfully, if everything went well, he was going to marry a man who could cook five-star meals for him, so he’d never have to worry about burning down his own house again.

#KakaIru #Umino Iruka #Hatake Yua #Taryn's Oc #Taryn's Oc's #Taryn's Birthday Bash #Birthday Bash

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drewoclock · 3 months

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I Considered Giving Up On My Dreams

Originally published September 26th, 2018

This doesn’t happen with everyone, but some people are lucky enough to know exactly what they want to do with their lives from the very beginning. I was one of those lucky people--maybe too lucky, because there was a lot I wanted to do. It’s always fallen under the umbrella of “creating your own entertainment” but I’ve wanted to be a painter, an actor, a songwriter, a filmmaker, a writer... I’ve wanted the opportunity to live my life making all of these wonderful things. Growing up, I devoted so much of my free time to pumping out artwork like this, always daydreaming of a time where I would be so good at it that people couldn’t look away. Growing up to be an artist, an entertainer, a creator, was never something I ever questioned. That is, until last night.

While having dreams is one thing, making them happen is another. Over the years I’ve definitely thought about this; how hard it’s going to be, what my odds are, how much luck I’ll have to have. I think most careers have their growing pains but with the one I was pursuing, you really start a lot lower. The path to working your way up is long, difficult, and not necessarily happy. Other people might not mind their first job in their field but for me, it’s more or less grunt work. And I famously joked about this for a while, saying how most people had a nice incline where they went from high school to college to getting a job in their field to getting an even better job in their field, etc. Whereas for me, after college, my incline dropped right to the bottom again, and I knew my journey up would be much steeper. I was very aware of this, and it didn’t really phase me. Because I kept daydreaming about my dream career, and what I had to do to get it just seemed worth it to me.

Recently, I took a very big step toward making my dream career happen. I went through the very frustrating process of looking for an apartment in New York City and I moved. I had tried finding the work I needed where I was at previously but, that wasn’t going to work and I knew it. I had to move to somewhere with more opportunity, and I did. And I liked the idea of living in New York City. In a very shallow kind of way, New York City seemed like a place you lived if you were particularly important. I wanted to feel particularly important. I thought I was ready. I--definitely wasn’t.

For one, I’m a lot more isolated here. I knew that I couldn’t live with my family forever in their house with many rooms and that I’d have to transfer to a scrappy apartment. But being mostly confined to one room is vaguely maddening. It has just about everything I need but it’s starting to make me feel like I’m caged. It also makes filmmaking in particular feel like more of a challenge. I hadn’t realized exactly how much I depended on using my parents’ house as something of a studio, being able to film things in many different rooms. Now if I want to do that, I have to make a three hour drive. There aren’t many spaces to film here.

And even if I tried filming here, privacy is a huge issue. These walls are thin, and I couldn’t even fart without everyone in the apartment hearing it. Every conversation that’s had in the apartment is essentially a conversation you’re sharing with everyone else in the apartment. I--really, really don’t like that. I hate the idea that I couldn’t even have a bad day and cry without people hearing it. And maybe it’d be a little more tolerable if I were living with friends, but that dramatically didn’t pan out and I’m here living with three strangers that I more or less don’t really interact with. It’s very uncomfortable.

And it’s also very lonely. Another thing I knew is that you can’t make a big move like this without leaving your family and friends behind. I had a taste of this in college. But in college, it never felt permanent exactly. Now, it does. I miss being able to just text my friends if I was bored and spontaneously hang out. I miss just being able to know I could see them with a ten minute drive. And I had not considered how comforting it was knowing that my family was around in the place I was living, and how nice it was just being able to talk to them. It’s not something I thought of as a kid; how warm and loved you feel being a part of a family. And while I’ll always be in the family--I’m not with it anymore. I’m alone.

And there are things about New York City itself that aren’t too nice. Yes, there’s more to do here and things are bigger. But I like having a car, and dealing with alternate side parking down here is nightmarish. And I barely get to use the car. Public transit is usually the best option for getting places since parking is so horrendous. I miss just the concept of driving a car and being in my own little space. Public transit means you don’t have to worry about driving, but driving was never something I worried about. Also, the gym’s more crowded and I don’t like it.

And on top of all of that, I don’t even have a job yet--which is awful! I’m basically broke. I was trying to apply for jobs even remotely related to my field but I guess I underestimated the competition. I thought waving around a degree would be the one thing about college that was genuinely useful but apparently it really isn’t. Now I’m going to need to find some temp job in order to make ends meet. And yes, some temp job is going to be a lot better than being unemployed. But some temp job is not what I moved to the city for.

And that is actually the biggest problem of all: What I moved down to the city for. I moved down here to start at the very bottom. Do grunt work in my field and claw my way up. I knew that’s what I had to do. I had joked about it. I had my eye on the future. But now, my eyes are also on the present. And the idea of doing this work--makes me really, really unhappy. Yes, after many years it’ll maybe finally pay off. But short-term happiness is valuable too, and something that up until now has been fairly secure for me. Now, I’m looking at the path to following my dreams and for the first time, I’m seeing how miserable it’s going to be.

And for the first time, I’m starting to feel how unfair it is that other people don’t have to be as miserable because they have different dreams. One of my friends is already married and more or less has his dream job while living in a nice apartment, with a move into a nice house pending. I can’t even fathom the kind of happiness he must be feeling. Another one of my friends just got engaged and is working a job he’s very comfortable with, while another one just got a job in a field he really likes. One of my friends just bought a house because they make a ton of money in their field. I have a cousin who’s younger than me and already doing so much better than I am living in the city. And it’s not fair. It’s not fair that I don’t get to be that happy.

So I considered giving up on my dreams. Finding some other career path I could take that wouldn’t be as brutal. Moving away from New York City to a place where I can get an apartment with some privacy. Being able to drive again. I still wouldn’t be living with my family. I might still live away from my friends. But I’d be more comfortable. I’d be happier. And I’d still work on my art projects on the side. I’d make them public. Maybe if I’m lucky, I could start my career that way. Just by being noticed and not by having to work my way all the way up. A lot of people don’t follow their biggest, loftiest dreams, but they’re still very happy with what they have.

But I’ve had the dreams I’ve had for my whole life. These dreams are a part of me. And even if I stop pursuing them, I’ll never stop daydreaming about them. I’ll never stop wanting them to come true. And it’ll make me sad, knowing that I traded them away. The trade would be more than reasonable. I’d get a lot more comfort by giving up on my dreams. But--they’re my dreams. They aren’t going away.

And for the first time, I started to feel cursed for having the dreams that I had. If I had wanted to be a restaurant owner or a barber or a data analyst or something, I wouldn’t be in this situation. I’d be happier. I wouldn’t have to decide between giving up on my dreams, or pursuing my dreams and being miserable while doing it. Because I want to be an artist, an entertainer, a creator, I’m doomed to this unsatisfying existence for however long it winds up taking for things to pay off. And they may never pay off.

So in a way, everything stayed the same after thinking all of these things last night. I still live in New York City. I still need to get a temp job as soon as possible. And I’m still going to pursue my dreams. I feel like I have to. It’s not often that my heart tells me things, but my heart is telling me that this is what I need to do. But what has changed is my awareness of exactly what I’m in for. I had been able to ignore it before because it wasn’t staring me in the face. But now--this is going to be my life. I’m going to be doing grunt work while most of the people I know are standing above me, feeling a lot happier. It’s maybe one of the most unfair things that’s happened to me. I hate it, and daydreaming about the future can’t make me stop hating it.

I’m trying to find a way to end this on a positive note. It’s stumping me because I’m very, very sad right now. It’s overwhelming how bad everything is, and there are constant reminders of it every day. I’ve been sitting here for a long time trying to figure out a way I can end this that’s happier. I had a thought of a life that might work out a little better for me. Where I moved back to where I came from. I know a lot of people from that area that have found the kind of grunt work I’m looking for down here. If I looked even harder, I bet I could find it for myself. I could work my way up and develop the skills I need to look appealing to the big jobs I really want. I could keep putting my art projects out there and try to get them noticed. And maybe I could get offers for big gigs in places like NYC or LA. But gigs would come and go, and I could always come back in between them. To a place where I have my own private apartment. Where I can drive a car. Where I get to visit my family that I love to pieces often. Where I get to be close to my best friends. Maybe there’s a way, to have both kinds of happiness.

It’s hard to know how things will play out. But maybe it’s not that thought of a happier life back where I was that’s the positive note to end on. Maybe the real positive note to end on is knowing just how much I care about my own happiness. That I care so much about giving myself the happiest future possible that I’m willing to sit here until I figure out how to end this on a happy note.

Life isn’t too happy right now. Not at all. But at least I know that I’ll always be striving to make it happy.

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ghostofthemost141 · 4 months

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I'll Be Back Chapter 7

Ch.1. Ch.2. Ch.3. Ch.4. Ch.5. Ch.6. Ch.8.

About: Amelia 'Amy' Vargas had everything going for her. Her dream dog, big house, and in the honeymoon phase with her husband Alejandro Vargas. Her worst fear comes true when Alejandro is KIA during a mission. Or so she thinks. He comes back home, seemingly normal and like his usual self, but Rodolfo, who witnessed his death, is very suspicious.

!Warnings!: Brief NSFW scene but vital to plot

Notes: Hope y'all are enjoying this one. I promise to involve Simon and them going forward from now on. Enjoyy.

I was awoken by the bed shifting.

“Ale?” I groggily called him.

“I’m here, cariña.”

I felt a pair of arms wrap themselves around me and hold me tightly.

“I thought..you were getting up and..I didn’t want you to fall.” I groggily spoke, trying to wake myself up as I faced him.

“If I did I would have woken you up like you asked.” Alejandro reassured me.

I finally opened my eyes to find Alejandro smiling at me.

“How long have you been awake staring at me?” I ask.

Alejandro just smiled at me, caressing my cheek with his hand.

“You’re so beautiful, Amelia.”

“Even when I look like a rat’s nest?” I argued.

“Nope, cause you never look like that. You’re always beautiful in my eyes.” Alejandro argued back.

I just chuckled, feeling so damn lucky to have him in my life. Feeling so damn lucky that he is alive and well.

“Who texted you last night, by the way? Was it Soap asking about something stupid?”

I wish.

“No, it was..Graves.” I nearly threw up saying who it was.

Alejandro furrowed his eyebrows at me in question.

“That’s weird. What did he say?”

“He asked to meet up for a coffee. Just him and I.” I said.

“Extraño.” Alejandro mumbled.

“I agree.”

“You gonna go?” Alejandro asked.

“Maybe. You know how I feel about him. Me da escalofríos.[He gives me the damn creeps]” I say.

“I know, I know. You can go if you want to but if you choose not to then that’s alright as well. Make up a lie or something.” Alejandro suggested.

“He says it concerns you though but he won’t tell me what.” I mentioned.

“I’m sure it’s something about my injury. But again, don’t go if you don’t want to go and I’ll talk to him myself.” Alejandro told me.

He’s right but at the same time I shouldn’t let my fears take over. I just need to face him. Whatever it is, it can't be that bad. But the fact that he refuses to tell me over text, concerns me.

“I’ll go.”

I gripped the steering wheel not only out of nerves but anxiety. I hated leaving Alejandro alone at home, especially given he is having to relearn his physical balance. But he reassured me he would be alright. Not only that but just seeing Graves sitting down inside the coffee shop, waiting for me furthered my anxiety. He sat there, sipping his coffee, staring down at his phone. I was on time, so I knew he wasn’t going to text me seeing where I was at but what could be so damn important that he couldn’t tell me over text. What could it be? Only one way to find out. I gathered my emotions, put them aside, and stepped out of my car, slamming the door shut. I sauntered into the coffee shop and going straight for where Graves was at, sitting down in front of him.

“What do you want?” I snared.

Graves choked back a laugh as he sipped his hot coffee.

“Whatever happened to ‘Hello’ or ‘How are you?’” He asked.

I just rolled my eyes at him.

“Make it quick, Graves. I am supposed to be at home making sure he doesn’t hit his head.”

“Alright.” He started, “well first, let me ask, how has he been?”

“He’s fine. Some headaches here and there, but he’s getting better.” I briefly answered, wanting to leave quickly as I got here.

“That’s good.” Graves smirked as he said that.

“What is this all about, Graves?” I ask.

“Is he acting normal?”

“Uh yeah he is.”

“How’s his walking?”

“I mean he stumbles a little but he’s fine.”

“Okay we are done here then.” Graves said as he started to get up.

I shot up, getting close to his face.

“Leave us alone. I mean it, Phillip.” I growled, hoping to get my point across.

“Damn, spiked hormones much?”

How did he? What?

“Congratulations to you both.”

“Fuck off, Graves.” I snarled as I bumped past him, exiting the coffee shop and into my car.

I took big deep breaths in and out to calm myself down. That was Graves doing and he was being manipulative as ever. I don’t want to take this out on Ale, no, he doesn’t deserve that. But how did Graves know? Unless he was just talking out of his ass he always does. I mean I don’t know for sure if I am or not, but I have been feeling off the past few days and it very well could be that. I put my car into drive and made the quick drive back home. I felt my hand run over my stomach. Even though it was possible I wasn’t even pregnant, I was secretly hoping for a boy. But I know Alejandro would want a girl. A girl to protect and care for, not that he wouldn’t with a boy, but I could see him being a girl dad. By the time I thought of Alejandro being a dad, I was already back home, rushing inside.

“That was quick.” A familiar voice spoke.

I turned to find Alejandro in the kitchen, making something with Winston at his feet as usual. I was almost quick to get onto him for moving around, especially with a knife, but I quickly stopped, seeing that he was alright. And doing fine on his own.

“Yeah. It was. How do you feel?” I ask, approaching him.

“Great, actually. Still a little stumbly but I’m alright. I sat down immediately if I felt woozy or off balance like you told me to do.” Alejandro informed me.

I leaned my head on his chest, wrapping my arms around him in response. Alejandro immediately held me back.

“What did that hijo de puta[son of a bitch] say to you?” Alejandro asked, keeping me in his arms.

“He just asked how you were, if you were acting normal, and if you were walking normally.” I answer.

“That’s it?”

“Yep.” I said.

Alejandro didn’t say anything as he lowered his hands, rubbing them, a warmth feeling going down my spine. I could feel my throat start to tighten up, but in a good, anxious way.

“Have you felt any different lately?” Alejandro asked, leaning in close.

“A little. There’s a chance.” I said.

“I hope so.” Alejandro says, keeping his hands where he was at.

“Do we have a test here?” I asked.

“Winston, please.” Alejandro chuckled as Winston got in his face.

It didn’t help that we were at eye level with him so he took the first opportunity to get in his favorite parent’s face.

“Maybe he could feel the excitement within us.” I mention.

“True.” Alejandro said.

Both Alejandro and I were sitting down on the bathroom floor, with the pregnancy test sitting up on the sink. Alejandro’s phone had the counter going down when we could look at the results.

“Winston, you’re going to either be a big sister or brother.” Alejandro said as he rubbed Winston’s belly.

I was trying not to get my hopes up for it could very well be a negative. But Alejandro is a glass half full kind of a guy. He is always full of optimism and hope, even if in the shittiest of situations. The timer then went off, indicating that the results were ready.

“You ready, Amy?” Alejandro asked me.

“Y-Yeah. But you look first.” I say, not being able to handle the anxiety.

Alejandro nodded as he raised his hand up and grabbed the pregnancy stick. He had a smile on his face and as he read it, his smile fell a little bit.

“Negative?”

Alejandro nodded, showing me the results. Only one line was shown.

“That sucks.” I said as he threw the stick in the trash.

Alejandro then got up, with Winston in his arms and walked off, coming back in a few seconds later with Winston missing.

“Winston is comfortable in his bed in the living room, with a jerky treat and his toys. Come with me, amar.”

“¿Estás bien?” Alejandro asked me.

“Sí.” I reassure him.

Alejandro was towered over me, our clothes somewhere in the bedroom.

“Are you sure?”

“Por el amor de Dios[For the love of God], Alejandro. I am alright. I promise. Now don’t keep me waiting and put a baby in me.” I half joke.

Alejandro smirked at me as I said that.

“Todo lo que tenías que hacer era preguntar.[All you had to do was ask]” Alejandro’s voice dropped an octave as he said that.

He grabbed me by my hips and jerked me forward, bringing me closer to him. Alejandro pushed himself into me, causing both of us to moan in unison.

“You’re so beautiful, Amy.” Alejandro groaned as he started thrusting.

“You’re so handsome, Ale.” I say back, making him smile.

Alejandro quickened his pace, causing both of us to make inhumane noises in unison. He was perfect, perfect for me. He was made for me, he is so perfect for me, so- Hold on. Hold on a second.

“What’s up, hermosa?” Alejandro stopped moving, looking down at me with concern.

I peered at his right shoulder. There should be a scar there. Why isn’t there a scar there?

“Didn’t you have a scar there?” I asked, pointing to the spot on his shoulder.

Alejandro looked down and peered at the spot.

“Yeah. You’re right.”

Alejandro was just as confused as I was and I really wanted to question it. And I would’ve if it wasn’t for our obvious predicament.

“Scars can disappear.” I mention.

“Can they now?” Alejandro questioned.

“Yeah apparently.” I say, remembering that fact.

I feel like I could see a hint of it, but I swear it used to be more prominent.

“Do you want to stop?”

“Hell no.”

As we both finished, we stayed in position for a hot moment, just to make sure my body would take it. Both of us wanted this so badly.We wanted to be human parents, and I am just hoping that nothing prevents us from doing that. Nothing at all.

#cod #callofduty #call of duty #cod modern warfare #ghostofthemost141 #alejandro vargas #cod alejandro vargas #ill be back fic #simon ghost riley #johnny soap mactavish #phillip graves #john price #kyle gaz garrick #general shepard #rodolfo rudy parra

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