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feeder86 · 13 days

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Aaron's Empire

“Yes?” Aaron asked abruptly, seeing that Kirk was calling him yet again.

“He says he’s full already,” Kirk replied. “He’s only had three doughnuts and now he just wants to sit and watch a movie.”

Aaron sighed. As one of his newest recruits, Kirk was more than a little needy when it came to applying the skills that Aaron had tried to instil in him. Every year it seemed like there were more and more guys moving to the city with a kink for fattening up. Although Aaron hadn’t liked it, it had always been necessary for him to outsource to other feeders when he became overrun. He simply did not have the time to tackle all the boys who got in contact with him, desperate to be fattened and submit to him.

“Did you try the trigger words?” Aaron asked. “I made a list of the nicknames Jay gets the most aroused by. They’re all on the file I sent you: ‘Fatso’, ‘Piggy’… I think he even got pretty hard at ‘Lardass’ as well,” he rambled on, trying to recall his observations from the initial feed he had done himself with Jay, three months back.

“I tried them,” Kirk shot back. “Can you come over? I really don’t know what else to do.”

Sighing in frustration, Aaron ended the call. On paper, Kirk looked set to be an awesome feeder: good looking, athletic and masculine-looking. He was one of the star players in the college football team and seemed to have that natural air of authority about him. Feeding a short, little chub like Jay should have been simple. But this was the fourth time he’d got in contact, wanting more support. Perhaps he would make a good feeder one day, but that still seemed like a long way off.

“Thanks for coming,” Kirk smiled, opening the door to Jay’s apartment and seeing that Aaron had picked up a couple of pizzas along the way. He was whispering, having not told Jay that he had needed to get Aaron over to help him.

“Is that what you’re wearing tonight?” Aaron asked, indignantly, seeing the feeder’s attire. “What is with that sweater?” “It’s cold out tonight,” Kirk mumbled back.

“So?” Aaron grumbled, taking his own shirt and pants off as soon as he was through the door. “If you want these fatties to eat, you sell them the fantasy,” he pointed at his own staggeringly built and athletic body. “They don’t need the wholesome ‘boy next door’ look putting them off,” he sighed, still amazed by how average such a sexy guy could look in something so ill-fitting. “And would it kill you to put some product in your hair?” he continued, noticing that Kirk must have come straight from the showers after his football training.

Kirk nodded, seeming to agree that he hadn’t made enough effort. He followed Aaron’s lead, removing the offending sweater and taking off his pants, despite the slight chill in the apartment. Then he went to the tap and brushed some warm water through his hair to fluff it up a little.

“Hello there, Fatso!” Aaron smiled, leading the way into the lounge area with the pizza boxes.

“I didn’t know you were coming tonight as well!” Jay smiled, actually getting up from his chair. Back when Aaron had been feeding the guy himself, the chub had been well trained to stay sitting on his blubbery glutes the entire time he was there. His shirt wasn’t even off and he was wearing actual slippers on his feet, like an old man. Had Kirk really tried to initiate a kinky feeding session when the pig wasn’t even stripped? Just how many other rules like this had the boy been letting slide?

Aaron pulled Jay into a passionate kiss. He allowed both of their hands to roam freely, and by the time they came out of it, Aaron had successfully removed both Jay’s shirt and pants. “You’re looking so big now!” Aaron smiled, taking in Jay’s fattened physique: 350 lbs of tits, belly rolls and blubber.

“I’ve gained another 2 lbs since I saw you last!” Jay boasted, grinning with pride.

Aaron smiled, despite the irritation he felt. Two pounds in an entire month? Did he really think that was acceptable? Did Kirk not challenge him on such mediocre gains? After all the hours Aaron had put in training up the guy’s appetite, back when he was little more than a twink, a two pound gain should have been just a normal part of life for him now.

“Kirk tells me you’ve not got much of an appetite tonight?” Aaron went on, sitting the fat boy back down in his chair, where he belonged. “Is there any reason why?”

Jay looked a little awkward, but smiled as he saw Kirk coming to stand beside Aaron; his toned athlete’s body now on show. “The truth is,” Jay mumbled, “I’ve got my dad and step-mom coming to stay with me this weekend. My dad’s always been somewhat critical of me since I started getting fat. I guess it sort of dampens the appetite,” he sighed.

Aaron nodded sympathetically. “I understand,” he smiled sweetly. “Thank you for being so open with me. It must be incredibly hard for you. As kinky as it is to get this fat, explaining it to your family is never easy.”

“That’s it,” Jay agreed, visibly relaxing now he had shared his concerns aloud. He sat back a little more in his chair and rubbed his tummy. “It’s hard to eat tonight when I know my dad is going to be even more disappointed in me.”

Again, Aaron smiled. He tapped Kirk’s tight butt, silently ordering him into his position, behind Jay’s chair. The next movement was about to begin.

“I really do understand,” Aaron offered lovingly. “As you can imagine, I see it time and time again with all my boys.”

Jay smiled back, with little comprehension of how many guys across the city were actually fattening up under Aaron’s watchful eye.

“But, do you know who doesn’t care?” Aaron asked next, slipping off his underwear and letting his erection spring out. “This guy here,” he pointed at his already pulsing hardness. “He couldn't give a shit about all that sort of crap. The fat boys whinge about how full they are, or how none of their clothes fit. They bitch about their families, their friends not being supportive. They talk about how much they sweat now, how out of breath they get…” Aaron went on, rubbing his boner and seeing that Jay simply could not take his eyes off it. “But this guy…” Aaron emphasised again, “...he just couldn’t give a fuck! He actually gets off on it; their complaints and genuine concerns. He just wants to see them eat and grow, fatter and fatter every single day.”

Aaron nodded to Kirk, letting him know that it was time to tap the newly aroused fatty on the head, ordering him to start sucking. Then, only a few seconds later, Jay’s mouth enveloped as much of Aaron’s dick as possible, moaning with lust as he did so.

Kirk, who was now rubbing Jay’s back encouragingly, looked across at Aaron, clearly impressed at how quickly he had turned the situation around. However, Aaron merely stared back at him in annoyance. It wasn’t just the fact that Jay had always been so pathetically weak at giving blow jobs, but why hadn’t Kirk done this? How many times had he been told these strategies to get the pigs eating when they were less keen? Sometimes their mouths just needed a little warm up; a little lubricating. “Go get the pizzas,” he ordered sternly, about to begin yet another demonstration of how to stuff a pig to his absolute limit.

After that evening, Aaron assigned Jay to another of his feeders, hoping that Jay was simply a poor fit for him. In his place, he gave Kirk a new and highly motivated second year college student who had impressed him a lot when he’d interviewed him about why he wanted to be fattened up. Perhaps seeing the fattening process from scratch might give Kirk the kick up the ass that he needed.

“Five pounds?” Aaron asked, feeling exasperated. “You’ve had three months and that;s all you’ve done to him? He’ll lose that in no time now he’s gone home for the summer!”

“He had exams and stuff, though,” Kirk tried. “I didn’t want to get in the way.”

“Oh, come on, Kirk! How many times have I talked to you about stress eating? You missed a golden opportunity to really push some weight onto him there! He also tells me he’s working on a farm over the summer. How the hell did you let that happen? You know that’s too much exercise!”

“I didn’t really think it was my place to say anything…” Kirk mumbled, realising that he had messed up yet again.

“You’re the fucking feeder!” Aaron shouted, finally letting his frustration get the better of him. “Of course it’s your place to say these things to the pigs!”

Kirk sighed, disappointed with himself. “I’ll do better when I see him next. I promise.”

Aaron shook his head in disappointment yet again. He liked Kirk, he really did. He had all the hallmarks of a good feeder, with a pretty face that made everyone stop and stare. He had the sex appeal to make a guy eat if he really wanted them to. But his application of the basic feeder principles and training were utterly lost on him.

“Look, let’s just take this time as a little breather,” Aaron suggested. “I have some time off at the end of this month. You can come over to my place and we’ll do some little role plays and scenarios; stuff that should help you when your pig gets back for the new semester.”

Kirk nodded gratefully, knowing that he still had so much to learn.

“So, what is a feeder’s main objective?” Aaron asked a couple of weeks later as he led Kirk into his apartment.

The question clearly caught the football player off guard and a long pause followed before he finally answered. “That the pig eats everything we give them,” he offered, seeming confident.

Aaron shook his head. “You’re thinking too short term,” he shot back. “A feeder’s goal is, and always will be, the results: the tight pants, the fat gains, the number on the scales. That’s all that really matters. There are different ways to get there: meal plans, submission, dominance, you name it. But the feeder’s goal is always in the blubber he can pack onto his prey. Is that clear?”

Kirk nodded.

“That means that it really doesn’t matter if you never even use some of the strategies we’re going to revise today. As long as you get the results, that’s all I care about.”

“Okay. That makes sense,” Kirk agreed.

“Feeding is a sensual exercise,” Aaron began, taking his shirt off and removing his pants; still pumped from his gym workout that morning. “You’re never going to feed a pig to his full capacity unless you get the support you need. So where do you find that support?”

Kirk, who had been following Aaron’s lead and undressing, sat himself down in the guy’s feeding chair and pondered the question. “You mean I should call you?” he asked.

Again, Aaron sighed. None of this information should have been new to him. “No, Kirk! The best feeder a pig’s ever going to have is always right between his legs.” He reached out, holding the football player’s semi. “It’s the reason he first fell into gaining and it’s the thing that led him straight to you, so always make sure that you use it in the most effective way that you can,” he explained, rubbing Kirk’s dick until it stood firm and erect. “If fatty stops eating or starts slowing down, give some attention to this thing and you’ll soon see him getting hungry again.”

“Should I suck it?” Kirk asked keenly.

Aaron frowned at the silly question. “It’s entirely up to you. Just…get it hard and keep it that way. That’s all you need to worry about.”

Kirk settled a little more into his chair, enjoying this training more than the other sessions he had had with Aaron. He’d always done better with practical exercises, rather than trying to memorise the theory behind principles.

“Now, most of the time, your pig will buy his own food that he wants you to feed him. But, if ever you’re doing it, you’ve got to choose it all very carefully, thinking about the feeder’s goal… which is?” he quickly questioned.

“The results!” Kirk parroted back to him, pleased that he had remembered something at last.

“Exactly,” Aaron nodded, now pointing to the vast selection of food he had set up on the coffee table for his date with a long-term fatty who was coming over later. “Everything here is from the list I sent you back when you first started. These particular brands are all staggeringly high in calories and quickly digested.” He looked at Kirk’s blank face. “I’ll email the list over to you again then,” he simply stated, deciding not to pull Kirk up on his lack of studiousness.

“What would you start with?” Kirk asked, seeing it all spread out and presented so nicely.

“Well, that depends on your fatty’s preference. You should know what his favourites are; the things that are best to get him started. For example, what is it that catches your eye the most?”

“The cream cakes,” Kirk replied instantly.

“Very well,” Aaron smiled, picking one up. “Before I start, I look down. Is his dick hard? Yes. Are his eyes fixed on the food? Can I make him salivate?”

At that moment, Kirk swallowed a build up of saliva in his mouth.

“Pigs love to be played with. And, at the start, that’s fine. You can waft it under his nose,” he demonstrated comically. “You can dip your finger in the cream and tap it on his piggy little snout,” he joked, doing just that with Kirk. “But when the time comes to feed, you let them know that you’re serious,” he stated sternly. “Because this isn’t a game, is it? And you can’t let the fat boy treat it like one.”

Kirk slowly nodded his head.

“You get their eyes fixed on you now,” Aaron continued, ensuring that Kirk was doing just that. “They realise, you are the feeder. You are the one they are doing this for. During this time, only the two of you exist in the entire world. Pleasure and greed are the only things that have any consequence now. Nothing else.”

Kirk was absolutely silent, taking all of the information in like never before. He looked entirely fixed within the mindset of the boys he would someday feed. Out of a simple curiosity, Aaron brought the cake a little closer to the guy’s mouth, hardly believing that the jock’s jaws were unhinging. His mouth gaping open, Aaron pushed the cake beyond the point of no return, until it squished and fell upon Kirk’s tongue.

Suddenly Kirk was chewing, with his cheeks filled with cream. Had the guy completely misunderstood the concept of role-playing? Sure, the boy was always prettier than he was intelligent, but feeders didn’t do this. This food wasn’t for him. Yet his hardness throbbed every bit as much as the countless others Aaron had done this to in the past.

“Now you praise your pig,” Aaron explained, deciding to take the strange turn all in his stride and act like this was as he had planned. “You tell him how greedy he’s being; how large and fat this will all make him; how he’s going to struggle to get into his pants tomorrow.”

Kirk moaned with pleasure as the last of the cake was pushed into his mouth. He licked Aaron’s fingers clean; his greedy eyes now turning to the other items on the table. Intuitively, Aaron reached across and found the next item, holding it until it was ready and then pushing it deep inside the athletic boy’s mouth.

“Your pig is going to get thirsty pretty quickly, so you need your drinks to hand. These need to be equally high in calories,” he smiled, cracking open a can of soda. “Not too cold,” he stated cautiously. “Everything should flow. We hit them hard and fast while they’re in the zone.”

Kirk took the can of soda and chugged it in one.

Still determined not to show even the slightest bit of surprise, Aaron simply continued his tuition. “Don’t be tempted to just feed the pig what he likes,” he cautioned, seeing that Kirk’s eyes had fallen back onto the cream cakes. “We want to keep mixing up those flavours and textures, pouring in the liquid calories and making the pig wait for those favourites.”

Kirk nodded, accepting whatever was fed into his mouth.

“Always, ALWAYS keep an eye on his dick,” Aaron insisted, taking his hand to Kirk’s hardness and rubbing it for short, gentle periods. “He’s going to want to climax, but it’s your job to make him wait. You do not let him touch himself! His dick belongs to you. You call the shots. And the pig isn’t getting his pleasure until he’s completely stuffed.”

At this, Kirk seemed to redouble his efforts, eating faster and greedier than even before. He’d slipped perfectly into the role; indistinguishable in his apparent lust to feed. His stomach was bloating up, yet still he feasted.

“By this point, your pig is going to be completely disoriented. He’s lost track of what he’s eaten and he has no idea what’s coming next. He’s already massively overdosed on calories, but because of the speed you’re delivering it all to him, his brain hasn’t caught up yet. This is the stuffing ‘window of opportunity’, and you’ve got to push the fatty hard until it closes.”

The food on the table was quickly disappearing. It had been a few months since Aaron had fed a young athlete of Kirk’s stature; almost forgetting how much boys like this could gorge.

“You’ll know when it’s time to stop. The pace slows and they wince at the stretch. But any sign of heaving and you’ve already taken it too far,” Aaron stated. “You make them look you in the eyes again as you take their dick in your hand. You make them say ‘thank you’ for doing this to them, even though they might, even now, be starting to regret how much they have eaten. You tell them what a greedy pig they have been; what all those calories are going to do to their body.”

Kirk was already pulling a face as he felt his orgasm building.

“Now you make them rub their big ol’ tummy,” Aaron ordered, grabbing at Kirk’s limp wrist and placing the boy’s large hand on the top, and most swollen part, of his bloated stomach.

Immediately, the jock’s hand began to explore that new, tightly-packed and solid shape; all so beautifully timed as his pleasure was about to peak.

“And as tough as it is to admit… this moment… the fatty’s actual climax; it’s really not about the feeder,” Aaron whispered now. “It’s about the pig realising what he’s done to HIMSELF; how completely fucked he is for getting so turned on, eating like he has for you.”

Kirk’s breathing was so erratic, with short, squeaking moans escaping from his lips every couple of seconds.

“You make the fat boy look you in the eye. Do what you want inbetween. You can make him promise to get fatter for you, make him oink like a pig, or force a final doughnut into his greedy little mouth; it really doesn’t matter,” he breathed, holding Kirk’s stare with a vice-like grip. “Just let the pig know that you see him for exactly what he is; that he can’t hide it anymore. That he is, and will always be, your greedy hog.”

A massive jet released from Kirk’s crotch, followed by several others, until an almost unfathomable amount of the boy’s excitement had covered his chest and splashed itself all over Aaron’s feeding chair. Yet more stains that would never come out.

Kirk’s charge was assigned a new feeder when he returned to college after the summer. Aaron had made the decision that the boy, who had been so keen to fatten up when Aaron had interviewed him, had been messed around enough by an inadequate feeder. In fact, Aaron had come to realise that Kirk wasn’t even that. Sure, Aaron had flipped feeders into gainers in the past. He even joked that most feeders came with an expiry date, when it would all become too much for them and they’d long for the blubber to be added to their bodies instead. But, Kirk was such a simple boy. Did he even realise yet that he was destined to become a fatty?

“I’m guessing you’ve played some good football in your time,” remarked Kirk’s football coach, heading over to speak to Aaron after he had seen the guy watching his boys play.

“Is it that obvious?” Aaron smiled, knowing that most people assumed he was some sort of football player, given his statuesque height and build. He shook hands with the guy, knowing just how to handle men like these, immediately inventing a backstory for himself in the game that would give him a lot more credibility with the coach. He folded his arms in the same way as him, mimicking the body language and slowly engaging the man enough so that he visibly relaxed more in his company; believing every word he said.

“So just one little broken ankle and that was your entire future NFL career gone?” the coach asked, full of sympathy.

“I think about it every single day,” Aaron lied, shaking his head bitterly. “But you’ve got some decent talent on the field here,” he smiled, pointing to the spot where all the young guys had last stood before heading in to shower.

“They’re okay,” the coach agreed, sounding unconvinced. “We’ve certainly had stronger teams in the past.”

Aaron nodded, as if he knew what he was talking about. “There was one who really caught my eye; the really tall one who spent most of the time over there,” he pointed.

“Kirk?” the coach asked. “Yeah, he’s a good player. Not necessarily the brightest guy I’ve ever come across. He’s quite versatile and plays in a variety of positions. I wouldn’t say he exactly excels in any of them though.”

“Have you ever thought about playing him as an offensive tackle?” Aaron asked. “From what I saw today, he looks more suited to that than anything.”

At this, the coach winced. “You should see some of the guys from the other teams in our league who play in that position. Kirk may be tall and strong, but he’d be dwarfed if he had to go up against them.”

“Bulk him up then,” Aaron shrugged, deciding to lift his arm and show off his bicep. “It’s what my coach did for me. It was the best thing that ever happened for my career. Before the ankle…” he added.

The two men discussed the idea for a little while longer, but Aaron had no intention of hanging around just in case Kirk came out and came over, giving the game away that they knew each other. Instead, he simply planted the seed and left it there to grow.

“When am I getting a new pig?” Kirk asked a couple of weeks later, settling into Aaron’s feeding chair.

“When I think you’re ready,” Aaron lied. “Which reminds me,” he smiled, pulling out his phone and playing a video to the football hunk. “Your last assignment’s new feeder sent me this. He’s getting great results with your old pig. Look at the blubber in that tummy now. His six pack is completely gone!”

“He looks completely different!” Kirk marvelled.

“That’s not even the best part,” Aaron chuckled, waiting for the section in the video when the pig turned and bounced his butt cheeks. “His new feeder says he’s never seen anything like it. It’s like the muscle just completely vanished and been replaced by pure blubber. Look at those thighs too! He’s going to be so bottom heavy!”

“That can’t be the same guy,” Kirk protested. “He didn’t gain like that for me.”

“Well, it’s all about finding the right technique that works for your pig,” Aaron explained, undressing himself and grabbing the supplies from the kitchen.

Kirk had followed his lead, kicking his shirt, sweatpants and underwear to the side and sitting himself back down again. An obvious coating and ring of light blubber sat around his middle from all the sessions Aaron had conducted with him in the last few weeks, but it wasn’t time to acknowledge that with him just yet.

“This is the shake and suck technique,” Aaron went on. “It’s the method that helped your old pig get that huge ass of his. I made this shake up this morning, so it’s had plenty of time to lose the chill.” Aaron heaved, lifting a huge gallon container of thick liquid and putting it on the coffee table with a bump. “You’ve had it plenty of times before. You know what’s in it,” he smirked.

“Yeah, but…” Kirk mumbled, looking at the size of the container. “I’ve only had the odd flask of it when we’ve been training. No one could drink that much of it.”

“That’s where this funnel comes in so handy,” the feeder smiled, lifting it up for Kirk to see. “It stops the pig from ending the chug the moment he starts to feel a little uncomfortable, and so it gives us a lot more control over how much we want the fat boy to take down.”

Kirk’s erection had returned. His legs twitched and he looked down suggestively at it. “What about the sucking part of this method?” he asked, knowing that no one gave a blow job like Aaron.

“It’s called the ‘shake and suck’ technique,” Aaron laughed. “As in… one BEFORE the other!” he teased, noting that Kirk appeared aroused enough to begin. “All you need to do is hold this flask, like this,” he instructed, resting Kirk’s head backwards into the chair at the same time. “Then just, chug away until the funnel is emptied.”

From his position, standing behind the feeding chair and looking over Kirk, Aaron could fully appreciate the gentle loss of definition in the boy’s stomach muscles. Today’s session was going to do so much more serious damage! He lifted the container and let it glug outwards, filling the funnel held steady by the athlete underneath. Just as instructed, the naive boy began swallowing it all up, even as Aaron continued to pour; never letting it get below half-way.

At the first break, Kirk moaned loudly, rubbing his enlarged stomach. Then he burped, long and coarsely, until he at last felt more comfortable. “Fuck!” he sighed. “How much of that stuff did you just pour in? I thought it was never going to end!”

“There’s plenty more, don’t you worry!” Aaron laughed, turning so that he could feed his own erection into Kirk’s mouth. “This is something you can only do at the start of this technique,” Aaron explained. “And you’ve got to go gentle. You can’t be making your pig gag when there’s all that fattening liquid in his stomach.”

Aaron could tell that Kirk was at last starting to learn some of the blow job skills he’d been taught in recent weeks. Aaron exhaled and felt his eyes widen. Shit, this guy was actually pretty good!

“And that’s enough of that,” Aaron smiled, pulling out before he lost his composure. “Back to business!” he ordered, placing the funnel back into Kirk’s hands. “This second chug has to be shorter, and the next one will be shorter again,” he explained, already pouring from the now considerably lighter container and looking down to check that Kirk’s hardness wasn’t faltering.

At the end of the second chug, Kirk moaned once more and gave off a long fog-horn like burp. However, this time his stomach was so rounded and stretched, actually resembling a belly for the first time. Without even prompting, Kirk’s hands began exploring it as Aaron engaged in a gentle first suck in his crotch. Not that Aaron would ever have told him, but already over two thirds of the gallon of gainer shake was gone.

“Depending on your pig, this method can take all day. And that’s fine,” Aaron nodded. “The main thing is, we want that shake inside them.”

Automatically, Kirk rested his head back again the moment he felt ready. The third session began and Kirk was soon enjoying the rewards of having Aaron’s lips around his erection once more.

“A pretty effective technique, huh?” Aaron laughed, just stopping as Kirk seemed about to climax.

“Let’s finish this thing!” Kirk grunted, throwing his head back and knowing that the end was near. Fuck the consequences. He needed that orgasm soon.

“You want me to take on another pig?” asked Jack, one of Aaron’s most capable feeders, a few weeks later. “That’s two in the last six weeks!”

Aaron nodded apologetically. “I know. I would do it myself, but I just don’t have the time. His name’s Peter; twenty-two, already chubby; great little appetite when I interviewed him. He wants pushing hard, and he’s kinky as fuck. I think you’ll have a lot of fun with him,” he summarised, showing Jack a picture before sending over the contact details.

“Cute!” Jack smiled. “Are you sure you’re okay with letting me have all the fun?”

“I just know you’ll do a great job,” Aaron chuckled, slapping the guy on his back.

Jack simply smiled back knowingly. “I bumped into Kirk the other day. He told me you haven’t given him a pig in months.”

Aaron raised his eyebrows. “Well, there are reasons for that.”

“You’re flipping him, aren’t you?” Jack pressed. “Kirk tried to tell me that his coach is bulking him up to play a new position on the field, but there’s no denying your handiwork on that little paunch of his. That’s where most of your time is going these days, isn’t it?”

“Possibly,” Aaron smirked, liking how direct Jack could be at times. “I’m throwing everything at him and I’ve yet to find a single one of my moves that doesn’t work on him.”

“Does he realise?” Jack asked.

“What do you think?” Aaron laughed, knowing that he didn’t need to hide his wicked side with a guy like Jack. “I’ve even got him writing up an assignment for me on the ‘feeder training’ he’s had in the last few weeks! He’s coming round this evening for the ‘Funnel, Fuck and Flip’ exercise.”

Jack chuckled. He’d only met Kirk a handful of times, so could hardly pity the guy if he had fallen into one of Aaron’s typical games. “So when are you going to make your move on him?” he asked.

“Soon,” Aaron smiled. “He’s almost ready now… Just one last little push!”

Later that evening, Kirk bent himself against the table with his legs stretched. His stomach was hard and swollen with gainer shake, drooping down as his head was held only inches above a decadent three-layered chocolate cake.

“Not many guys can hold an erection like I can,” Aaron explained, having pushed himself inside Kirk’s tight butt hole with a lot less wincing from the athlete than in previous weeks. “So don’t worry if you struggle with this move when you’re feeding a fatty this way.”

“Okay,” Kirk mumbled back, breathing deeply as his body tried to get used to the sheer size of Aaron’s thick hardness inside of him. “I think I’ll be ready in a second,” he whispered.

“Good,” Aaron replied, trying not to laugh. He leaned a little more over Kirk’s broad back. “Now, messy pigs adore this one. All I’m going to do is gently lower your head into the cake before I start fucking you.”

“So the pig has to try and eat whilst he’s getting pounded?” Kirk asked.

“That’s the idea,” Aaron smirked.

“Is that even possible?” Kirk asked again.

“I guess you’ll soon find out,” Aaron chuckled, checking that Kirk was ready and then pushing his head gently into the cake so that his entire face was covered in frosting. “Good Piggy!” he called out, already starting to fuck him. Despite the many fatties he’d worked on over the years, few were ever as thrilling as this!

A few weeks later, Kirk had arrived at Aaron’s in a somewhat distracted mood. “Coach says I’ve put on too much fat in my bulk, and that it’s affected my performance on the field.”

“Of course you have,” Aaron shrugged, getting himself undressed as Kirk did the same. “How else am I supposed to teach you about how to tease a fat ass properly? You can’t make an omelette without cracking a few eggs.”

Kirk seemed to consider this.

“Now is the time when you can really get to grips with your pig’s trigger words. Some of them love being called out on being a pig, whereas others are not keen. Some don’t even like teasing at all.”

“So you ask them what words they like to be called?” Kirk asked.

“No,” Aaron sighed, wondering how he ever thought that Kirk could make a good feeder. He simply had no intuition at all. “You try the words out and see what works best. Which ones suit them? Which ones get them the hardest? That’s the way I figured out yours.”

“I have trigger words?” Kirk shot back in surprise.

“Of course you do. All FAT BOYS do,” Aaron smiled, poking Kirk in his doughy middle, making the guy’s hardness bounce. “‘Fat Boy’: the name works on you every time. I never could have got you to complete that pot of whipping cream last week without it.”

“Fuck!” Kirk marvelled, perhaps realising for the first time just how much Aaron had actually burrowed into his head. “Are there more?”

“Of course there are,” Aaron nodded. “There are movements too. Like when I cup your glutes and give them a little bounce,” he demonstrated, giving Kirk’s butt cheek the lightest of wobbles. “See?” he asked, nodding down at Kirk’s weeping erection. “You’ve been so firm and athletic your whole life, this is a completely new experience for you. The feeling of fresh fat invading your body. It’s why being called a ‘fat ass’ works so well on you too.”

Aaron kissed him deeply as he continued to jiggle the boy’s glutes. Kirk’s breathing was hot and heavy; more aroused than ever he had been so early into their sessions. This was new and exciting.

“Few people would spot it in you; partly because you're so broad and muscular. But you’re also a very submissive boy,” Aaron continued.

“I am?” Kirk asked. “I thought feeders had to be mostly dominant?”

At this Aaron sniggered. “Oh, come on, Kirk!” he smiled, still bouncing the soft glutes. “You’re no feeder.”

Kirk closed his eyes to appreciate the feeling of his jiggling butt cheeks. “What am I then?” he whispered, sounding like he was finally ready to hear the truth.

Aaron placed his mouth right next to Kirk’s ear and whispered back, deploying the boy’s ultimate trigger word.

“You’re my big, fat HOG!”

Just like that, Kirk moaned like he had been shattered into a thousand pieces. He pulled Aaron into him and kissed him with more passion than ever before.

“You’re going to quit football for me,” Aaron demanded, immediately seizing the moment as Kirk had surrendered himself; a part of him released and fully conscious for the first time.

“I’ll do anything!” Kirk agreed, allowing himself to be pushed into the feeding chair; another stuffing about to commence.

“Good!” Aaron grinned. “Because you’re moving in here with me too. I’m taking a six month sabbatical from the other fatties. I want to see what I can do when I just devote myself to one little hog, twenty four hours a day. How far can I take them?”

Kirk looked down at his stout little belly and his eyes filled with lust. “I’m all yours!”

#gainer stories #gainerstory #gayfeedee #gayfeeder #gainer story #gainerstories #gainerfic #gainer fiction #gainer fic #gay feedee

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traveler-at-heart · 10 months

Text

What we were

Chapter 2

A/N: Background into the What we were story. Mentions of cheating, character death.

PS I didn’t mean to make you all hate Natasha 😭 I’ve just had this story for a long time in my mind and wanted to write it. Baby’s been through it and I promise in other chapters she’ll be better if that makes sense lol.

Six Months Earlier

It was a warm spring day. Flowers were blooming. In no time, grass would grow back to cover the grave.

As Clint’s coffin was lowered to the ground, it felt like time had stopped, or it had been altered.

You were all pretty much retired. The Avengers were a thing of the past.

So why was he on that mission with Kate Bishop?

Carol, still grieving over Maria, only sent flowers.

Natasha was away from everyone else. No one could approach her, not even you. She’d only talk to Anya or Laura.

It felt like she was punishing the team.

You are all to blame.

Natasha almost threw Kate across the room the minute she tried to apologize.

That was the first wedge between her and Yelena.

She ignored everyone’s disapproving stares as well. And you knew what that distance meant.

Nothing and no one would get in her way to avenge Clint.

You were scared.

And rightfully so.

Natasha didn’t sleep, barely ate and simply stopped being present in your lives.

You heard her scoff and protest everytime you brought it up.

Laura is raising three kids on her own. And you think you have it hard?

One day, you begged her to come with you to therapy.

It could be good for us.

She agreed, if only to shut you up. Natasha never made it to that first session, nor did she apologize for her absence.

For the first time in your life, you could actually picture what it was like in the Red Room.

No feelings, no humanity.

Just a mission.

Before summer break, you asked Yelena to organize a family trip to celebrate Anya’s birthday.

Maybe Natasha could speak to Alexei or Melina. Maybe they’d understand.

Natasha refused.

“It’s for your daughter’s birthday,” you pleaded.

“We’ll do something else. Just the three of us. I promise”

Because she looked ashamed for the first time in months, you believed her.

It was a lie.

Yelena flew the next week, agreeing to look after Anya until school started again.

Your plan was simple; you’d help Natasha find all the information she needed. You’d finish the mission and then go back to normal.

The day after Yelena and Anya left, you went back to the Compound.

That’s where your wife was most nights, alone. Even Bucky had moved out years ago.

Still, you remembered every corner of this building.

It was your home, a long time ago.

Yours and Natasha’s.

Your first kiss, your first night together… It all happened here.

Curious about the things left in your old room, you walked over there, not even bothering to knock.

And there, you found Carol putting on a shirt and shorts, while Natasha walked out of the bathroom wearing nothing but a towel.

“Shit” her skin paled the second you locked eyes. “Y/N, please”

The room was spinning, you couldn’t breathe and you were certain your heart would explode any minute now.

Natasha ran behind you, pulling you by the wrist to make you turn.

She was screaming, crying, begging. All the things you had done for the last four months to keep your family in one piece.

Going to Wanda’s old room, you locked the door, barely listening to her pleads on the other side.

It was the strangest feeling in the world. Your energy was drained, as if you’d come back from a mission and were fatally wounded.

Natasha was still there when you opened the door, a couple of hours later. You couldn’t feel your face and your voice sounded foreign as you spoke.

“You have until tomorrow to move out of the house”

“Please, don’t”

You walked past her, without sparing a single glance her way.

Were you dreaming? Because you didn’t feel anything as you left the building, driving straight to Bucky’s house.

But when he opened the door and you could see how concerned he was, you finally broke down.

Your family was destroyed.

And you couldn’t save it.

Taglist: @wandabear, @thatonebrazilian, @canvascoloredin

#Natasha Romanoff x y/n #Natasha Romanoff x reader #Natasha Romanoff x you

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scotianostra · 2 months

Note

Ooh, what’s Edinburgh like? Moving there next year hopefully, from Africa, and after a few quick trips I can’t say I’ve gotten too much of a sense of the city :(

I'm kinda biased, but it's a good place, quite small and easy to get around, the main bus serice is Lothian Buses, for a flat fare of £2 you can get from ato b on one bus, for £5 cash you can hop on and off, the best value is paying by debit card , what they call TapTapCap from as little as £4.80 per day and £22 per week, so if you are one 3 or more buses in one day it caps at £4.80, and £22 is the most you will pay fr a week. The bus service is very good and I use their bustracker, find it on Google Play "My Bus Edinburgh" The vast majority of Museums and Art Galleries are free, only charges tend to be if there are special exhibitions, like The National Museum of Scotland had a Doctor Who exhibition last year. There are two main train stations, Waverley and Haymarket, and several small ones and stops.

Most people don't realise that Edinburgh and the surrounding areas have some great beaches, Portobello is the best in the city, ad has plenty of places to eat and drink at there. Cramond Beachis a mecca for dog walkers, there is a Causeway there where you can explore Cramond Island, just watch the tide times. There are plenty of parks and green spaces, the city is officially the greenest city in the UK, with almost half the city (49.2%) being classed as 'green space'.

If you are relatively fit there are plenty hills to climb to get great views, some are very easy, Calton Hill, Corstorphine to name but two. Arthur's Seat offers different routes to the summit of varying difficulty, but you can actually drive so far up and just make the easy climb to the top, there are three man made "Lochs" around Arthur's Seat, if you're lucky you will see Otters at Dunsapie, Duddingston and St Margarets have plenty swas and ducks. For more serious walkers the Pentland Hills are a great place to explore, there is even a herd of oor Highland "Hairy Coos" up there. If you can ski, there is a dryslope on The Pentlands, the longest in the UK.

Pubs and clubs are a plenty, I have no idea of your age as you have decided to remain anon, but many places cater for students, prices vary, I pay between £2 and £4 for my drinks, although the touristy places will charge you up to twice this amount, over £6 for a drink is not unusual.

Of course we have the Festival, well there are several throughout the year, Edinburgh gets the tag of Festival City at times. The main one is in August and the population of Edinburgh is said to double in the time, licensed premises are automatically given an extension to their opening hours, some open to 5 in the morning.

It's a safe city with a low crime rate, but as with other places you have to be aware of your own safety. If you plan on taking in the paid attractions The Castle wil set you back about £20, as will The Palace of Holyrood House. Opposite the Palace is The Scottish Parliament, you can visit thisfor free and sit in while it is in session. If you are planning on venturing around Scotland and like your history I recommend a membership of Historic Scotland, again I don't know your age, but prices start at under £3 a month and are less than a fiver for adults over 24. National Trust of Scotland also offer meberships from £3.35 to £5.80.

Can't really think of much more to put for now, perhaps my followers can make suggestions, or ask questions?

Oh and pack your umbrella get a waterproof jacket, even in summer we can get some heavy showers, naturally you will be aware it can get cold as well, invest in a decent winter jacket and layers to keep warm.

I hope this has been helpful.

#scotland #scottish #history #edinburgh #Advice

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mediocre-daydreams · 2 years

Text

𝐟𝐨𝐮𝐫. 𝐥𝐢𝐟𝐞 𝐰𝐚𝐬 𝐚 𝐰𝐢𝐥𝐥𝐨𝐰 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐢𝐭 𝐛𝐞𝐧𝐭 𝐫𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭 𝐭𝐨 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐰𝐢𝐧𝐝

remus lupin x animagus!reader

𝚜𝚎𝚛𝚒𝚎𝚜 𝚖𝚊𝚜𝚝𝚎𝚛𝚕𝚒𝚜𝚝: 𝚠𝚑𝚎𝚛𝚎𝚟𝚎𝚛 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚜𝚝𝚛𝚊𝚢, 𝚒 𝚏𝚘𝚕𝚕𝚘𝚠

summary: you and the marauders become animagi for the first time and you manage to (not-so-subtly) crush on remus even while he’s a werewolf.

w/c: 5k

･ﾟ⋆☾*･ﾟ.・。.*゜✭・･ﾟ✫・⋆。.

life was a willow and it bent right to your wind head on the pillow, i could feel you sneaking in

you hadn’t spoken to remus since last week. it wasn’t like the months before, where you’d slowly but unintentionally distanced yourself from him in favor of the animagus potions; no, this time, it was he who took to avoiding you. the day after your argument, he caved into sparing you a few brief glances. but since then, he’d successfully managed to shut you out in every class, at every meal, and disappear from the library and common room.

it was torture.

“what’s the incantation again?” sirius mumbled to himself as he flipped through the pages of the book that had begun to eat away at you each time you saw it. the guilt had nothing to do with the fact that you’d stolen an official ministry document from the restricted section or that you were using it to do something very dangerous and illegal, but because it reminded you that you’d sacrified your relationship with remus by choosing to become an animagus.

sure, you were becoming an animagus for him. but it still took all your self restraint not to spit out the damn mandrake leaf every time you saw the devastation and betrayal crack through his straight-faced exterior. in the past three years you’d known remus, you’d never once fought like this. you didn’t fight, period. there were squabbles over the best muggle literature and who got the last copy of a library book and whether tea or coffee was the most complimentary for a reading session, but none of those lasted more than a few hours or a day at most.

so yes, you’d rather have a girl’s night with bellatrix lestrange than this—whatever it was.

“ah! amato animo… a tomato? atonement… animagus- huh?” james squinted at the instructional pages; the parchment was limp from the sustained humidity of the dungeons and the ink had slightly bled, so you couldn’t blame james.

oh, you could, actually. “merlin, james. gimme those-” you grabbed his glasses from his face and wiped the grime and condensation off with the sleeve of your robe. “there, better?”

james’ eyes buggled in astonishment. “loads! woah, i feel like i’ve gotten a whole new prescription!”

you grimaced. “y’might as well have… do you not clean your glasses, james?”

james shook his head and his curls bounced along. “no, why would i?”

you looked back at the parchment.

peter elbowed james harshly. “listen up, mate. it’s amato animo animato animagus, ‘right?” peter rubbed his forehead with the back of his hand. “not any of that… tomato rubbish.”

“i figure we ‘ought to head up; i think the ceiling’s already beginning to leak.” sirius shuffled his belongings together and tucked them under his arm. “up and at ‘em, lads! and… lass.”

you waved him off. “nah, i figure i count as one of the lads now. i’ve seen all of you half naked, ‘cept for james, who was full naked. we’re forever now.”

your group ascended the stairs, footsteps and voices echoing off the stone walls. peter laughed heartily. “i think you’re right. you ‘oughtta be a full marauder, at this point.”

james nodded. “yeah, and you even know about moony’s furry little secret! plus, we’re breaking so many laws right now and become ani-”

sirius slapped the back of james’ head as you slammed your hand over james’ mouth. james cried out, the sound muffled by your palm.

“what was that for?” james sputtered, genuinely in pain.

“you are the worst at keeping secrets, james potter. remind me to never make you my secret keeper,” you groaned.

“hey, i’m not that bad!” peter snorted. “i’d rather have sirius as my secret keeper than james.”

you all looked at the boy thoughtfully. james nodded and shook his finger at peter. “let’s be honest, the only person we should trust with secret-keeping is peter. or moony, but he’s not here at the moment.”

“shush, we’re here!” sirius pointed his head at a large window facing the hogwarts grounds. from there, you could see the lightning storm tearing violently at the branches of the whomping willow.

“well, you all know what t’do.” james sat on the ground matter-of-factly and pressed the tip of his wand over his heart. “amato animo animato animagus… hello? get to it!”

you all followed suit, though peter was chewing his lip nervously. “is this gonna work? i mean, we only had one sunset between finishing the potion and the electricity storm so we never did a sunrise incantation… will that be enough? plus, we started the spell during the storm, so will that-”

“shut it, would’ya?” sirius grumbled. “we’ve got- holy shit!” sirius gasped. “i- i feel the second heartbeat!”

your eyes widened. “godric, we’re really doing this, aren’t we?”

james nodded numbly. “we’re in deep shit.”

“ready?” you asked, clutching the crystal phial that had once held your mandrake leaf and the moth chrysalis. it was now a thin blood red potion, enough for one mouthful.

“y-yeah,” sirius whispered, knuckles white as he gripped the fabric of his robes.

“i still think it’s a bad idea to do this in our dorm,” peter fretted, always the cautious one. “what if someone walks in?”

“that’s why we’ve locked the door, duh.”

“-or what if one of our animagus forms is a-an elephant, and we break everything?”

“that’s a problem for later-”

“or what if it doesn’t work and we get stuck in a horrible half-transformation forever?”

james grinned. “well, that’d certainly suck, wouldn’t it?” he uncorked his bottle and held it up in the air. “cheers, lads!” with one gulp, he’d swallowed the potion with confidence. nothing happened.

you and sirius looked at each other, eyebrows raised. taking a deep breath, you followed suit, downing the potion all at once. similarly, there was no change.

“oh! we have to do the incantation again…” you flipped through the book, skimming for any missed instructions. you grimaced. “ah, the book reads: you must show no fear. it is too late now, to escape the change you have willed.”

“on that cheery note,” james announced, pointing his wand to his chest once more, “amato animo animato animagus!”

at once, james let out a strained groan. “fuck, that’s killer!” he clutched his side.

you figured it was best to finish this quickly. “amato animo animato animagus,” you mumbled, bracing yourself for the incoming pain.

you now understood why so few people decided to become animagi. the gruelling preparation process aside, this was the worst pain you’d ever felt (and that you’d ever feel, you thought).

“does anyone else feel like they’re being barbequed alive or is that just me?” peter gasped.

“barbequed? you’re too white to have any barbeque seasoning… ah!”

“this is no time for joking!”

“it’s always time for-” james was abruptly cut off.

“what in godric’s name-” sirius sobbed through his pain, marveling at the stag that had taken james’ place.

of course james was the first to transform. he was always a bit of an overacheiver.

“ohh, i’m really feeling that double heartbeat now,” you panted, curled into the fetal position. james looked like he wanted to move over to you, but he knew better. peter was right—what if someone’s animagus was an elephant? james didn’t want to be in the way for that transformation.

“oh my go-”

when had the world become so small? everything had changed color… this was it. you were in so much pain that you were beginning to hallucinate; the next stage would be unconsciousness.

no, that wasn’t right. your nose twitched. why was your nose twitching? you couldn’t control it. god, the dorm smelled horrible. looking at your feet—well, they were no longer feet—you were confronted with the truth: your animagus was a rabbit.

a damn rabbit? you thought. why couldn’t i be something cool, like a bear? or a gryffindor lion? well, i suppose that wouldn’t be very inconspicuous… the marauders are going to tease me relentlessly for this…

you hopped—hopped!—towards your new and alarmingly large friends. sirius was a large black dog with long, coarse hair. he licked you eagerly, covering you in drool, and you wished that you were something larger so that you could bit him in retaliation. you felt humiliated as you leaned onto your haunches and cleaned your face in the way rabbits did—yes, the marauders weren’t ever going to let you live this down.

james the stag waved his head up and down like he was laughing. oh, how you wished you were a human so you could slap him. you’d have to settle for some angry foot stomping.

and peter… poor peter was a rat. a cruel part of you was delighted in peter’s unfortunate animagus form. it would take the ruthless commentary off of you.

but just like that, your fun was cut short. the doorknob was rattling aggressively, the noise only enhanced by your new senses. it seemed that sirius’ senses had also improved, as he seemed to panic as he sniffed the air. he growled lowly, slinking backwards until he was beside a bed and out of view from the doorway.

your ears swivelled and you caught a quiet voice. “alohamora.” it was then that you discovered a benefit to your animagus form: skittishness. your reflexes seemed to take over as you scurried ungracefully beneath the same bed that sirius was taking refuge behind. you couldn’t see much.

there was a bark. sirius’ bark. and then a loud clanging. and then a slam, followed by hesitantly approaching footsteps and a string of expletives.

it was remus.

“what. the. fuck.”

we can explain! you wanted to say, but another thing you discovered was that you couldn’t speak—not just in terms of human words, but you couldn’t bark like sirius or squeak like peter. so you thumped.

“did- did sirius put you in here? james? peter?” remus appeared to be going insane. “what was that? that noise?” he bent down to inspect the thump from beneath the bed and caught sight of a bunny rabbit, its bright eyes glowing back at him. his breath hitched in his throat.

“whaaaa- oh shit. there’s four of you. oh shiiiit.” remus pulled his head from under the bed and you wriggled towards him, following curiously. remus stepped backwards, appalled, pulling at his unruly hair which he’d stopped taking care of at the same time he’d stopped talking to you.

he rubbed his eyes. “no,” he whispered. “no, no, no.” remus turned around, left the room, and slammed the door behind him. you looked at peter, who was even smaller than you were, who squeaked a few times in response. james and sirius had yet to make much nose, which was smart—they didn’t want to draw attention from any other gryffindors.

the door flew open and remus entered once more, pointing a shaky, accusatory finger at the four of you. “i swear to merlin, i’ll kill you if you’re what i think you are. who i think you are,” he hissed.

your nose twitched aggressively as you shut your eyes, trying your best to transform back so you could defend yourself. you fell to your stomach, banging your cheek on the floor, as you returned to your human form. you thanked whoever created the rules of magic for allowing animagus transformers to keep their clothing.

“rem, please don’t-” you huffed, picking yourself up and rubbing your head. remus scrambled towards you, crouching down and pulling you into his arms wordlessly. caught off guard, you let yourself fall into his embrace, finding yourself surrounded by the scent that you’d missed for months. you buried your nose deeper into the crook of his neck. perhaps you were imagining it, but it seemed that you could smell more clearly even in human form.

remus stood, dragging you with him, and you stood in his arms limply, exhausted from the effort and extraneousness of the transformation. you wrapped your arms around his body, as he did yours, and closed your eyes. it was easy to pretend that three teenage boys were not currently in this room as illegally tranformed animagi while you were in the arms of your best friend, a werewolf, who you were madly in love with.

(the last part was a lie. you were very much aware that you were standing in remus’ arms.)

when james, sirius, and peter all became human once more, remus put his hands on your shoulders and walked you backwards so you could join the other marauders in their guilty little huddle.

“what have you done?” remus whispered, horrified.

you raised your hands in the air and shook them. “ta-da!”

it was very silent. to be fair, there wasn’t any precedent for “things to say after you went behind your best friend’s back and committed an extremely dangerous and illegal act in order to help him through a monthly werewolf transformation which is also dangerous and also most likely breaks many, many regulations.”

then sirius said. “in our defense-”

he only spurred on a panicked frenzy from remus. “merlin, how long- how did you- this is dangerous! and illegal! and- why would you- damn it, does this have something to do with me being a w- with my condition?” he hissed furiously.

“no! well… yes,” peter admitted bashfully.

“i’m sorry! we were trying to help. we thought that being around animals could distract the werewolf from hurting itself, and we’d be safe since we’re not human,” james hurriedly explained. “and we were careful and hey, it all turned out okay, right? no weird human-animal horror hybrids!”

remus paced, gnawing anxiously on one of his knuckles.

“rem, we didn’t mean to-”

“and you told her!” he snarled, pushing you aside and going straight for james. there was no logical sense to it—james wasn’t the only one who told you about the plan. “you fucking told her! i asked for one thing-”

“technically it was like, three things-”

“and you- damn it!” remus gasped for breath, dragging his hands down his face.

“‘tell her?’ tell who, me?” you interjected. “the fuck were you thinking; keeping secrets from me? i’m the one who bloody found this out in the first place! why are you talking about me behind my back?” you scoffed. “what, do you think i’m not man enough to handle whatever it was that you talked about?”

remus grabbed your shoulders once more, shaking you slightly. “i don’t want you involved in this! i don’t want you here!” he looked distressed. “that’s not what- no, i don’t want you to put yourself in danger because i knew my idiot friends were going to try something! i care about you too much to- merlin, you shouldn’t have.” then he ripped his hands from you like he’d burned himself.

“you don’t care about us?” sirius pouted, trying to lighten the mood.

“how did you even pull this off?” remus sat on his bed, defeated. “i mean, when did you even have time for this? how’d you even know how to?”

you pursed your lips to hide your smug smile. “i raided the restricted section,”

“you mean we-”

“and the potions closet, and got access to the dungeons…”

peter chimed in excitedly. “and i stole- got the phials, and the moth chrysali—don’t even ask—by the way, and sirius… held the map, and james… was our team leader. isn’t that right, james?”

james nodded.

remus buried his face in his pillow, trying to remain quiet as tears stubbornly forced themselves out of his eyes. he hated his friends. he hated their recklessness and stupidity and outrageousness. but most of all, he hated that he loved them.

“we only did it for you, moony.” james looked over at remus sadly, trying to gague his state.

remus hiccuped. “i’m a monster. i just- i don’t understand why you’d-”

you rushed to remus’ side, perching yourself on the edge of his mattress and laying a hand on his head, stroking his hair. “i’d- we’d do anything. anything for our moony.”

you were back by that window, the one where you and the marauders and uttered the animagus incantation. there was no storm this time, and the branches of the whomping willow almost seemed relaxed as they drooped loosely, allowing themselves to sway with the wind. there was an odd semblance of peace.

you jumped slightly as remus placed a hand on your shoulder. caught up in your thoughts, you hadn’t heard him arrive.

“sorry,” he muttered. he looked out the window with you.

hit by a stroke of bravery, you brought your hand up to cover his, coaxing it off your shoulder. you let his hand fall to his side, where you tangled his fingers in yours. it was nice, albeit a little uncomfortable. his hands were much larger than your and your fingers didn’t quite fit together.

“the full moon’s tonight.” you sighed heavily. “shouldn’t you be resting?”

“i’m alright. i’m used to it.”

“you shouldn’t be. you shouldn’t have to get used to- all of this. i wish you didn’t have to- to suffer.”

remus smiled sadly, turning to look at you. “i wish that too.”

you looked down at the ground. “me and the boys are going to come with you tonight,” you stated. there was no room for questioning.

“what?”

you lowered you voice. “after pomfrey brings you down to the shack, we’re going to sneak out and meet you there. we’ll be in our animagus form before you transform. that way, you don’t have to be alone.”

“have you lost it?” remus laughed incredulously. his hand broke free from your so he could cup your cheeks softly. “no, you’re not.”

“we’re not, or i’m not?” you murmured. “i know you think differently of me. but i don’t want you to. i’m not- not weak, or naive, or helpless, remus. i’m just as good as the other marauders.”

“no, i don’t think that of you. quite frankly, i think you’re stronger and cleverer and better than all of them combined. i just don’t want- i couldn’t handle it if you got hurt. especially if it was because of me. i-”

“moony, you would never hurt me. i know you wouldn’t; there’s no hesitance in my heart. and i’m a rabbit,”

“yes, you’re a rabbit, do you not see how-”

“i’m a rabbit, which means i’m fast. i can get away if i really need to—which i won’t, because you’re not going to hurt me.”

“how do you know that? how can you be sure?”

“let’s say i’ve done my research. i did check out that book, remember?”

“don’t come near me with your damn prongs!” sirius laughed, pushing james’ head away as he pretended to butt into sirius’ chest with the crown of his head. the four of you had yet to transform, still reviewing the logistics in the boys’ dorm.

“prongs! i like that.” you declared. “i think we all need code names. moony has one. james can be prongs.”

“hey, that’s not nearly as cool as moony!”

sirius snorted. “peter should be wormtail. the first thing i saw when he was transformed was his tail, and i really thought his animagus was going to be a worm!”

it was peter’s turn to be outraged. “are you serious? that’s so-”

“‘course i’m sirius! i’m always sirius.”

“if we’re going by first impressions, i say sirius should be padfoot. i’m being ser- i’m not kidding, have you seen his paws? they’re like pillows; mine are perfectly normal, thank you,” you sniffed.

“alright, and what’ll you be?”

james gestured at you from head to toe. “hopper.” he declared.

“i’ll take it! y’know what, i’ll take it.”

“‘right then, folks! we better get going. have you got the map?” james dug through a heap of junk.

“we finished it?” peter questioned.

“yeah, hopper helped with the dungeons area. we just gotta seal it later.”

“wait a minute, how come you get to be hopper and i’m wormtail?”

sirius held up the parchment triumphantly. “found it! i also found dog treats. who got dog treats?”

“that would be me,” you snickered, finding yourself very funny. “the house elves helped.”

you’d only figured out the travel strategy yesterday, and in hindsight, you should’ve practiced. the invisibility cloak was draped over james’ antlers with peter in between each one, and sirius stood by james’ side while you balanced for dear life on sirius’ back. it was much more difficult for you to cling on than it was for peter. you’d tried being down on the ground, walking alongside sirius and james, but you had gotten too close to being stepped on for your comfort.

peter had wanted to travel as humans and transform outside, which you vehemently opposed. it was safer to become animals in the privacy of a dorm room rather than on open grounds. you thought it was a bit unfair that peter, who had an easier time being on james’ back than you on sirius’, was so adamant about “convenience.”

it was a clear evening. you’d always enjoyed astronomy, but since discovering remus’ condition, looking at the moon had only brought dread upon you. you figured it must be a lot worse for remus.

you’d found that, in animal form, there was some primitive way you could communicate. you found it secretly preferable to normal communication with the marauders. there was no nuance or room for jokes, only barks with general meanings and vague symboling. it was effective, timewise.

“hurry up!” prongs nudged his head forward, almost sending wormtail flying.

“merlin, we’re trying!” padfoot whined. “i’m carrying a bloody rabbit on my back, so would you give it a sec?”

you pawed at sirius’ head. “i’m not that much of a burden! do you know how hard you’re making this for me? i’m on the verge of slipping off at every turn!”

“would you all shut it? i’ve gotta get past the whomping willow,” wormtail squeaked. he scurried to the base of the willow with the nimbleness that only a rat could process and pressed his tiny hand to a special spot on the bark. its defensive branches went limp, and the three of you pushed forward.

you jumped from padfoot’s back, scrambling to land properly. your rabbit body abilities weren’t very natural to you.

“moony!” padfoot barked. there was a flicker of recognition in remus’ eyes, though for the most part, they were clouded in discomfort. the four of you shifted back to your human forms, hoping to comfort remus before his full moon transformation.

“remus?” you whispered, so quietly that it oculd be mistaken for a breath. you crept towards him, who was curled into himself in a corner of the room. “remus, it’s going to be okay. we’re here!” you tried to lift his spirits.

remus shook his head. “i’m scared,” he confessed shakily. “if anything happens to you…”

“we’ll be alright, moony.” peter smiled reassuringly. the wonderful thing about peter was his ability to empathize with everyone. he had a way of calming his friends down during their lowest moments. “and if anything goes wrong, we know to leave immediately,” peter promised.

remus nodded, eyeing the ground warily. “you should probably turn again. it’ll be anytime now.”

within moments, remus was surrounded by four animals once more. you still weren’t used to being so small as a rabbit. you nuzzled against remus’ thigh, rubbing the side of your face against the fabric of his pants affectionately. remus smiled sadly, using two fingers to scratch behind your ears. you cooed.

there was a sudden snapping and remus inhaled sharply. he was beginning to transform. you backed away quickly, as did the other marauders, and watched as remus began the painful process of becoming a werewolf. you didn’t bother looking—it felt voyeuristic; wrong. there was nothing you could do to cover the sound of remus’ bones breaking, his well-worn clothing ripping and tearing, and the cries of pain that already began to sound like howls.

you wished you could cry yourself. unfortunately, the best you could do was stomp your feet and grind your teeth (which you did, violently).

for all that remus described himself to be as a werewolf, you found him startlingly beautiful. before you was a wolf, larger and slightly lankier than normal, that was distinctly remus. he had the same opalescent green eyes, the same mysterious and confident composure, and the same quiet curiosity. this was not a monster or a creature meant to kill. this was remus lupin at his most vulnerable.

padfoot whined lowly. “moony, y’alright?”

moony seemed startled; not threatened, but rather emotional. “i’m alright.”

“hell yeah!” prongs waved his head around excitedly, forcing padfoot to skirt out of the way to avoid his wild antlers. “this is so cool!”

“speak for yourself,” wormtail squeaked. “i’m still motion sick. moony, do y’know how we got here? i rode on prongs’ bloody head, like ratatouille!”

“what’s a ratatouille?” prongs and padfoot were equally puzzled.

you and wormtail shared a look that only non-pureblooded folk could understand. “don’t even worry about it. that movie won’t be released until nearly three decades later, and you’ll all be well and dead by then. let’s just move on.”

“can i come closer, moony?” you tilted your head, one ear sticking up quizzically. moony huffed in affirmation.

“it’s me! can you tell?”

“i can.” moony seemed amused. “you’re just as annoying as a rabbit as you are a human.”

you thumped in displeasure. “you git. i didn’t carry a mandrake leaf in my mouth just for you to insult me.”

prongs grunted. “you are quite funny, hopper. have you seen her binky yet? it’s so embarrassing.”

you thumped a few times more. “yeah? says the one with the death contraption on his head! plus, all you can do is grunt like a caveman. i didn’t realize it was possible for you to get any dumber.”

padfoot barked madly. “merlin, i love this. i’m the only one who can make actual sounds.”

wormtail scratched the floor angrily. “don’t rub it in, padfoot. or i’ll bit you and give you rabies.”

“i don’t think that’s how it works,” prongs corrected.

“it’s nice to see that you’re all just as insufferable as animals,” moony snorted, beginning to pace restlessly around the shack. “it’s too cramped in here. i feel like i’m suffocating.”

“couldn’t be me,” wormtail gloated. “perks of being a rat, i s’pose.”

“oh, shut it wormy. i’ll have padfoot eat you.” you threatened.

padfoot cringed. “absolutely not!”

“what, so you don’t think i’m tasty? i’m offended by that, you know.”

“hey, do you want to be eaten? ‘cause i-”

“can you all shut it?” prongs hooved the wooden flooring with a loud scrape. “you’re stressing moony out.”

prongs was right—moony was beginning to scratch at himself again, only able to entertain himself with your animal antics for so long. you leaped towards him frantically, and moony froze. he brought his face down to yours very slowly, like he was scared to hurt you. you could feel his warm, damp exhales puff through his nose and onto your face. there was fear in moony’s eyes as he examined you, so fragile in comparison to his powerful, muscular build.

“don’t be so egotistical, moony,” you scoffed. you found that reverse psychology type tough love was the only thing that would get through to remus when he thought he didn’t deserve kind words. “you’re not special. hell, i’m loads better than you. watch this.” you spun in circles as you became a blur in front of moony’s eyes.

moony vocalized what sounded like a laugh. “c’mere,” he probed, inviting somebody else closer for the first time. “let me see you.”

“i’m quite pretty, aren’t i?” you bragged. “very cute, if i say so myself.”

“precious,” moony agreed. “you’re my little treasure.”

you wanted to kiss him right then and there. you were his treasure. you discovered another downside to your animagus form: you had no lips to kiss with. you settled for a lick.

“did you just… lick me?” moony teased, lifting the paw you’d licked curiously.

“so what if i did?” you countered, thumping, thumping, thumping as you’d learned was the best way to communicate your annoyance. the boys were annoying you a lot today.

“merlin, we should call you thumper instead.” wormtail chirped.

“hey, i want a kiss!” padfoot ran over, tongue lolling, and covered you in slobber as he repeated his minstrations from the first transformation. he did the same to moony, who pushed him off seconds later.

“i’m disgusting!” you whined, rubbing yourself against moony’s legs. “ew, you’re so gross, pads!”

“hey, where did those names come from anyway?” moony allowed himself to lay on the ground so you’d be able to wipe yourself off on him better.

prongs trotted over, careful not to impale anything. “you got a cool name, so we wanted ones for ourselves. d’you like ‘em?”

moony dipped his head in approval. “very fitting. though i think i prefer love over thumper, though,” he cooed.

you preened. “i love you too, moony.” as if on instinct, you stood on your hind legs and lifted yourself to the underside of moony’s head, where you rubbed your chin on the fur there.

wormtail, padfoot, and prongs gave each other indecipherable looks. wormtail spoke first. “did you- did you just scent him?”

“what does that even mean?” you denied.

“yeah, we’re just affectionate, s’all.” moony added.

“good godric, i’m tired. is anybody else tired?” you whined, stretching your body until you were very flat and long.

moony nudged you with his nose affectionately. “go to sleep, little one. the others will wake you up when it’s time to go.”

so you closed your eyes, curled up against the warmth of moony’s chest, feeling his heart beat steadily against your body—the body you’d sacrificed months of time for in order to be here with him.

･ﾟ⋆☾*･ﾟ.・。.*゜✭・･ﾟ✫・⋆。.

taglist: (if your name has a strike, that means tumblr won't let me tag you)

@im-a-slut-for-fluff @bambamwolf87 @yourallihave @cowboibeepbeep @liszblog @springflwer07 @getawayfrommewerewolf @ilovehotdads69 @soumya-13 @emmaev @urgrandadsashes @girl-ln-green @vilentia @bibli0thecary @khayhuij

(note: i've realized not everyone wants to be tagged in both marvel/marauders content, so if you want to be specifically in ONE or ALL, shoot me an ask and specify! otherwise i'll keep u in the general for now. ty!)

#wherever you stray i follow #remus lupin x y/n #remus lupin x you #remus lupin x reader #remus x reader #remus x reader angst #remus x reader fluff #remus lupin series #remus lupin fluff #remus lupin x y/n fluff #remus lupin angst #remus lupin x reader series #remus lupin x animagus!reader #remus wherever you stray i follow #mauraders series #marauders mutual pining #remus lupin mutual pining

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bunnyseahorse-blog · 2 months

Text

I don’t feel like my therapist is listening, so I fired him, and I don't even feel bad.

I have half a dozen serious mental illness diagnosis and medical issues. When I applied for disability I was approved in three months (usually takes longer from what I'm told) and almost immediately moved from their metaphorical “she might get better” to “she’s going to be receiving benefits for life” pile.

The doctor I saw from age 7 to 30 advised me not to drive because of my condition that causes me frequent fainting.

She suggested I not live alone because I have delusions, mood swings and sometimes need to be hospitalized. I saw this doctor for 23 years, and also went to other specialists that agreed with her. I saw her until she was retired.

My general doctor says that even though I am overweight she is pleased with my glucose and cholesterol levels. My old, and also my new psychiatrists agreed with her.

My parents say I can live with them and have support. They are actually creating an expansion on the house so I can live on my own sort of and still have them nearby. My eldest sibling is inheriting the house when my parents die and they will rent to me until I die. We don't always get along, but I am trying, and we are navigating our unique dynamic so we can make it work.

This new therapist I’ve been seeing keeps insisting I go off disability, get a job, move out of my family’s house, live alone, and lose weight. Because I’m too old to “mooch off my parents.” He made comments from the get go about my weight. I am overweight yes, but he's not a doctor or nurtritionist. I am not experiencing any health issues because of my weight, which is partly due to my medical conditions and my meds. He made a comment once that i should show some pride in myself and not wear a beanie to sessions "do something nice with my hair." He told me once my shoulders looked smaller and I must be doing better. I was thinking.... do I have fat shoulders too??

I am going to a session today to explain to him nicely that he needs to let me set my own goals, and also educate him on how my life really is. I don’t think therapists should require educating. If he doesn’t get it, I’m leaving the session but I’m giving it a shot anyways.

I’m scared and I’m angry. Wish me luck? I don't want to be a project for him. I want to talk about things in sessions that i need to, not what he considers on his own agenda.

EDIT: I went to the session and voiced my concerns about he got a little defensive, but eventually seemed to see what i was saying and switched his focus to what I told him my goals were. However... I wanted a therapist to help me work through my abandonment issues and trauma, not a life coach to push me. I think i might find someone with a different focus is good. (plus him getting defensive isn't a great sign to me) he also insinuated that my little sister, who he has heard off, never met and never examined, is mentally handicapped because of one of her birth parents. We've had her tested, and everyone seems to be saying she's very sharp and doesn't have what her birth mom has. He also asked what my doctor of 23 years even did for me. I was like... diagnosed me with everything I have? Oh but according to him, diagnoses aren't relevant. I have a condition similar to schizophrenia, and yes you should know if you have that....

Also... I signed something saying he could have access to the last notes of my previous therapist, since I have extensive history but he apparently never got it, never told me he didn't get it, and wants me to go through the process again. I feel like the office dropped the ball, because I signed it already.

I think it might be time to move on... I canceled my next appointment. I feel like I should be able to find someone who listens better, and is there to help me, not fix me into things I am not capable of. Having him insist I am wrong and lazy for excepting my limitations, after the long grieving process that came with becoming permanently disabled at 26, has been upsetting, because I keep doubting myself, even though I know I have done the right things.

#Therapy #Personal post #mental heath #disability

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bestworstcase · 7 months

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Hello! You've mentioned being a NanoWrimo veteran, and I was wondering if you had any advice for planning out your writing for the month? I was going to do an outline beforehand to prepare, but I'm not sure if that's authentic to the NanoWrimo spirit.

i am i’ve been doing nano most years with wildly variable success since i was fourteen. my best advice is:

start writing now.

not your actual nanowrimo project necessarily and not the 1.6k and change daily you’d need to ‘win’ but start writing every day right now. if i’m going into november from a dry spell i like to start with a daily goal of minimum 100-200 words for a week and then at the end of the week, set a new goal of a few hundred more than daily average. rinse repeat until you’re in the habit of writing a decent chunk every day. THE POINT OF THIS is to avoid hitting the “”two week wall“” which is a thing that happens because writing 1.6k+ words in a day is pretty easy but writing 1.6k+ words per day every day for a month is really hard if you don’t, you know. train for it.

you will get the most value out of nanowrimo if you think about it as a writing marathon. it’s difficult because it takes a level of endurance and discipline that you probably do not have unless you’re already a prolific daily writer.

outlining is in the spirit of nanowrimo and has always been part of the culture; some people outline extensively (‘planners’) some don’t (‘pantsers,’ as in writing by the seat of your pants), many fall somewhere in the middle. the only hard rule if you want the, like, pure nanowrimo experience as it was originally conceived is: don’t start writing the actual story until 12:01 AM on november first. you can have anything from zero plan to minutely detailed scene-by-scene notes for the entire novel locked and loaded, but on day one you open a blank document and start writing.

another thing i’d really recommend is trying to write over that 1.6k daily baseline. an extra 340 words per day for five days will net you a free day and those are nice to have in case you hit a day where you can’t write for whatever reason. it’s a lot less stressful to bank up extra words ahead of time than to miss a day or two and have to catch up.

if you don’t already have a process for turning off your inner editor, start trying to figure one out now. the temptation to delete and rewrite a paragraph dozens of times will bite you if you indulge it. try things like hiding your text so you can’t read it (set font and page to the same color, or use wingdings), try sprinting apps like write or die, stuff like that. you are trying to complete a rough draft. it’s okay for it to be rough.

lastly, use the time between now and november to figure out warm ups that work for you. these are quick, simple writing exercises separate from your wip that you do before every writing session. here are some that i like:

set a timer for five minutes and write continuously, stream of conscious, without stopping until the time’s up.

set a timer for five minutes and write a loose synopsis or ramble about the scene you plan to write: what happens, who’s in it, what subplots is it advancing, what pieces of foreshadowing or set up do you need to work in, what’s the emotional tone, etc.

pick an object in the room. spend five minutes describing it in exhaustive but simple detail. think “this cup is a tall red cylinder. it’s made of glass. there’s about a half-inch of clear glass at the bottom. the red is bright and saturated, firetruck red. it’s sitting on my desk with sunlight falling through it, casting a red shadow. there’s water in it with three ice cubes. the cup is about six inches tall.” <- you want a stream-of-conscious list of observations, basically.

use a random [name/setting/plot] generator and write 2-4 paragraphs of something stupid based on the output. just the silliest or most overwrought or edgiest grimdark or saccharine bullshit you can spew out.

take the last five hundred or so words of your last writing session. read them over. open a blank document and transcribe them word-for-word (or nearly, if you can change a word here and there without breaking stride). the idea is not to edit, but to write out a decent chunk of words quickly, without thinking much about what those words are. (i like to do another warmup and then this one and then just keep going when i hit the end of the chunk i’m transcribing.)

the idea is to preempt writer’s block by giving yourself 10-15 minutes of no thoughts head empty rapid-fire word vomit to get your brain on track and ready to go. warming up before your writing sessions will dramatically reduce the frequency of sudden creative paralysis when you sit down to write.

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hopetorun · 6 months

Text

tagged by @bropunzeling and @postoperation 💕

Rules: Go to your published works on AO3 and list the first fic you ever published there, the last fic you published, any fic that you wrote for a fandom/ship only once, your favorite fic you wrote in the fandom/ship that has the most works, the fic you wish more people read, the fic you agonized over the most, the fic that sprang fully formed from your mind without any effort, and a work you are proud of—for whatever reason.

first fic (on ao3): perspective, a star wars (legends) eu rarepair fic that i wrote for yuletide in 2011 that honestly was like pulling teeth at the time and i don’t think i’ve ever reread. i crossposted and then deleted some social network fic but i honestly don’t remember if i ever backdated any of it correctly anyway so this is probably the first one regardless since i got an ao3 specifically to participate in yuletide in 2011

last fic: make a better mistake, the brady/quinn home by now timestamp i put on here the other day. i don’t have much to say about this really except that it was fun to write out one of the bits of their backstory, which i have a lot of thoughts and feelings about

fic for a fandom/ship i only wrote once: don’t read the last page, broadchurch pornography i wrote in the year of someone’s lord 2021 after rewatching because my mom hadn’t seen it and wanted to. i wrote so much het porn in 2021 and yet i still can barely bring myself to write any of the common slang terms for vagina 💀

favorite fic in the fandom/ship with the most works: well in the summer of 2012 i was possessed by demons and wrote two then-avengers/now-mcu fics but i can’t say i like either of them. i guess i think this one is better, if pressed. honestly i don't feel a need to delete them but i am glad that no one ever seems to read them lol

fic i wish more people read: the sky is big enough, which i feel like i've said before! i really like how it came together but dropping 15k unannounced and unheralded on a medium-sized fandom and peacing out isn't exactly the best way to attract readers 😂 at least it exists for me to pretend is part of the game of thrones canon

fic you agonized over the most: this is kind of a toss-up. on the one hand, it took me the better part of six months to write preference, which clocks in at a not actually all that long 37k, because for mysterious reasons it was just a really slow story for me to pick through and i had to put a lot of thought into what i could do with each scene since the structure (which i imposed on myself btw. i made this problem) is so limiting. on the other hand the actual writing sessions for home by now were easy and productive but the story took ten whole entire months of my life, a major characterization revision just under halfway through, and a major pacing evening-out three quarters of the way through. both involved a lot of crying about whether the story was actually good.

fic that sprang fully formed from my mind without any effort: okay this is a throwback and also such a rarepair as in the only fic in the tag but years ago i wrote jt compher/his college teammate kevin lohan and it was just such an enjoyable story to write because i had a clear vision of the arc and it came together neatly and the non-linear structure meant i got to play with some fun juxtaposition. anyway: instructions for dancing

a story i'm proud of: this is not the end. was this a ridiculous thing to write in any year, much less the year 2020? sure. but write it i did, and it was the first novel-length story i ever successfully wrote, much less completed and edited and posted. and i think it's a nice story! proud of myself for getting over the long story hump and proud of myself for doing it while also doing graduate school. and proud of myself for finding something to do with my time so that my entire life didn't just become work and grad school in 2020.

#i'm not tagging anyone bc idr who's already been tagged but if you feel moved you can pretend i tagged you #my fic

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aph-america · 1 year

Text

A Second Chance

[ My gift exchange for @badappleyatsu ! You asked for angst and I hope I brought it ]

“So, have you been seeing someone?”

Ivan blinked when asked the question. While not unexpected, he didn’t know how to respond. Having his ex-husband in front of him after a few years had him frazzled. Even him sitting on a sofa, across from Alfred in his’s own house added extra anxiety. When invited over, he’s unaware of what it entailed. A couple nights ago, the pair had run into each other at the same bar they had met. An urge to talk to Ivan overtook Alfred, and he went for it. To his own surprise, Ivan reacted in a friendly manner. And they exchanged numbers at the end. They’ve talked casually for the last few days, and Alfred decided to bite the bullet and have Ivan over for a real conversation.

“... You mean, in a serious manner? No. Why, have you?” Ivan responded, having a clear voice. He glanced at the photo near him, one with Alfred and a small girl. “I did not want to ask, but something tells me you are not with the mother of your child anymore…” There’s a hint of disapproval in his tone. Three months after their divorce, Alfred had gotten a woman pregnant. Ivan found this through a mutual friend, and had a couple crying sessions over it. While understanding that he didn’t have the right to be upset, it stung that his ex had a child so quick. ‘He must of really thought I was unfit to be a parent…’ Ivan would commonly think.

Alfred’s face changed from the question. His eyes looked down as he had a pained expression on his face. He began to rub his neck, knowing he’d have to admit the truth. “Eh, we were never really… Together… More so she got pregnant by accident and we decided to keep her. We tried to date, but it really did not work out and we’ve been co-parenting since she’s been born…” Alfred explained. The mother of his child had been a ‘friends with benefits’ situation.

Ivan raised a brow, annoyed by the background. “Interesting… You really could not wait to have unprotected sex with someone after me, yes?” His reply was snarky and his tone irritated. Alfred sighed and isn’t a fan of his attitude. His own expression changed to frustration. Ivan began to feel guilty for the unnecessary remark and decided to apologize. “Sorry…” His eyes looked down to his lap, where he held a soft blanket across it. Old Ivan wouldn’t have dared to say sorry for sassy comments. But this Ivan had matured through the years.

“That was rude of me. Anyway, she is adorable. And I like the name Bella. It suits her.” Ivan’s lips turned to a tiny grin, attempting to make up for the hostility. Alfred blinked, not expecting an apology, followed by a compliment. Grateful, he continued down the path of questioning he originally brought Ivan here for. “Thanks. She really is the cutest… Ah, could you see yourself dating someone with kids?” He asked, his inquiry having a tone of fear under it. A hint that he feared a certain answer.

“Yes. Does not bother me… Why?” Ivan tilted his head, wondering if Alfred would get to the point. Did his ex invite him over to simply ‘talk’, or did he have other intentions?

Alfred could tell by Ivan’s tone, and knew he should fess up and be blunt on his motives. “Well.. I guess… I…” Speechless at first, it took him a pause to get it together. “Listening- even before we met again, I’ve been thinking about you. A lot, actually. I felt like it’s fate that we ran into each other… I mean, I’m a different person from when we were married. I assume you are too. It’s been, what, five years? Anyway, I… I was hoping that we could reconnect…” His words were quieter towards the end. It’s challenging to pour his feelings out, but there’s no way to avoid it.

“I really did love you, a lot. And it never really went away? I’m sorry if I sound stupid… I just…” Alfred closed his eyes, taking a deep breath. “I, I can’t stop thinking about us. And I’ll never forgive myself if I didn’t try to fix things with you…” He reopened his eyes, his expression worried for Ivan’s reply. His ex blinked, an unsure look on his face. Alfred couldn’t read what he’s thinking and it bothered him.

Ivan’s half surprised, half isn't by Alfred’s confession. They met again, started talking, and once invited over, he knew something was up. But another part of himself couldn’t, or didn’t, want to believe the man who divorced him wanted him. After five years of marriage, it pained Ivan when Alfred gave up on their relationship. They were both young when they married, with Alfred twenty and Ivan twenty-three himself. Funny enough, they were separated for as long as their marriage.

Ivan had greatly worked on himself in those five years after the divorce. He went to therapy every week, and started to take his anti-depressants. A major source of issues in their marriage was Ivan’s poor mental health, and their relationship became toxic. Alfred had his own bad behaviors, due to being controlling and vindictive back. Alfred's too immature to handle a person as complicated as Ivan. At the time at least, years of growth could have changed that.

Ivan’s heart raced, and he tried to aid it by taking a deep breath. Body tense, he scrambled to find a response for Alfred. “I…” He began to mutter. He closed his eyes, following by reopening them. Instead of looking at his lap, he gave Alfred eye contact. “I would be lying if I said you did not come across my mind. You do. And I would sometimes wonder if it was the right person, wrong time… We both were so young…” He confessed, his fingers pulling at the blanket due to anxiety. Nausea built up in his stomach, as he had to verbalize his emotions. “I… I like the idea of reconnecting. See if it is truly meant to be…” He ended it in a whisper, breaking eye contact. He couldn’t look at Alfred’s baby blues anymore; it brought back emotions he’d push down the past few years. All the night were he missed his ex, and wanted nothing but to jump into his arms. His own body fought the urge to go over and throw himself at Alfred.

But he couldn’t; he had to act like he isn’t desperate.

Alfred leg fidgeted while he listened to Ivan. His chest felt close to exploding, and he struggled to keep his breathing normal. He didn’t know how’d he handle if Ivan rejected him. He wore his heart on his sleeve, and he isn’t aware if he’d regret it.

Nevertheless, the words ‘I like the idea of reconnecting.’ hit his ears, every tense, anxious part of his body relaxed. Calmness washed over him, and his lips turned to a smile. He stared at Ivan, and took in his beautiful features. His soft skin, that appeared flawless. Hooded eyes that were a shade unseen on anyone else. A large nose that fit his face, and full light pink lips. He’d do anything to crush his lips against his again. To taste his mouth, and grab him everywhere. His soft hips, large and thick thighs and ass. Feel Ivan under him, he’d yearn for it since they divorced.

“... Are you going to say something, or must you simply stare at me?”

Ivan speaking took him from his daydream. He sat up straight, and saw Ivan smiling at him. Chuckling, he felt guilty of imagining his ex in such ways so soon. “Sorry, heh, I just…” Unable to come up with an excuse, he ignored his zoning out. “Anyway, I’m glad you feel the same way. I’m… I’m sorry for everything, I really am…” That apology is one he held in for the past five years. The divorce had been rocky, at first it was quite nasty. It wasn’t until towards the end they began to act civil and go their separate ways.

Ivan sighed, shaking his head. “Do not feel bad. I should be sorry too. I was no angel to deal with. I know that… And… I am willing to start on a fresh slate. As long as you are as well…” He looked down again, fighting tears. He didn’t want to cry; he couldn’t cry. He couldn’t off the bat show how much he missed Alfred. Being emotional and weak again isn't something he wanted.

But Alfred saw through it.

“Hey… Don’t cry… You’ll make me cry…” Alfred laughed, but there’s a crack in his voice towards the end. He got up from his chair and sat next to Ivan. He took Ivan’s chin into his hand, raising it so they could be eye-to-eye. Tears pooled at the bottom of Ivan’s eyes. Alfred wiped them and fought back his own. Ivan sat still, his mind racing. A moment he’d secretly wanted for the last five years happened. It felt unreal.

Alfred pulled back slightly, taking his hands from Ivan’s cheeks. ‘I hope I didn’t cross a line touching him so soon…’ Alfred thought. “Sorry if I’m being too touchy…”

But he didn’t know how badly Ivan desired those touches. Every cell in Ivan’s body urged him to kiss him. Be in his arms again, feel his hands grip his waist and his lips on his neck. Ivan longed for him for years. This past year he'd finally gotten over him. He started to think about him less, and imagined himself building a life with someone else. But seeing Alfred in the flesh changed everything. Not only did the man confess rekindling their relationship, but received touching in such an intimate and soft way. Alfred’s touches were one of the reasons he fell in love. He could caress him in a gentle way no one else could.

Now, after moving on, every single emotion Ivan had pushed down came to surface. And he realized that perhaps, he wasn’t as moved on as so thought. More tears streamed down his pale cheeks, as his lips trembled into a smile.

“I love the way you touch me… Do not be sorry…”

#rusame #amerus #rusame exchange #aph russia #aph america #hws america #hws russia #i hope you like it #lol #aph fanfiction

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thewatermelloncat · 5 months

Text

Six Weeks and Stuffed Wombats

Week Three

Summary: Three weeks in and they reach another hurdle: they can’t make progress if Rosé is half asleep.

Author’s Note: In all honesty, I’ve mostly moved on from this fandom and I’m finding it really difficult to finish this. That being said I don’t want to leave it incomplete because I really did love this at one point, and it was going to be my favourite thing I would have written. I’ve got a chapter and a half to write, so I might pull something together within the next few months to tie it all off, but we’ll see.

Warnings: Themes of sexual harassment

Prologue Week One Week Two

The next week when Rosé walks into the room, Tamisha senses immediately that something is off. It’s not a particularly hot day but it’s not all that cold either. Certainly not cold enough to justify Rosé wearing a sweatshirt beneath her jacket and still seeming to shiver with heavy lines beneath her eyes.

“What’s wrong?” Tamisha asks worriedly after Rosé had only given her the slightest hint of a smile in greeting.

“Tired” is all she says to explain, her voice scratchy and faint.

“And that’s all?” Tamisha checks.

“Hmm” Rosé hums and blinks slowly.

“Up late for an assignment hand in or…” Tamisha trails off for Rosé to fill in the answer.

“Just couldn’t sleep.”

“Bad dreams again?”

Rosé nods, running a hand lazily down her face.

“How many?” Tamisha asks, picking up her notebook from the table between them.

“Just one” Rosé answers, her eyes barely staying off the floor long enough to look at her. “Then I couldn’t get back to sleep so… I just didn’t.”

“Did you write it down in your journal?”

Rosé shakes her head. “I don’t want you to know.”

“Rosé, I don’t judge you for anything” Tamisha promises. “Don’t you think it would help you if you shared it with someone else?”

After a few seconds and a few more slow blinks, Rosé nods. “It was about the family friend I told you about last week. He was staying over last night and…” Rosé trails off getting distracted before she regains focus. “I was in my bed, like usual, and I couldn’t move again…”

“Do you need a minute?” Tamisha offers kindly after she had trailed off again.

“No, no. It’s okay.” Rosé suddenly blinks and pushes herself up straighter on the couch. Pulling in a deep breath that turns into a yawn which she covers behind an arm. “Sorry… he, um… I had my back to him, and he just stared at me for a while before he moved over to sit on the edge of my bed.

“It was so vivid, like I could actually feel the mattress sink when he sat down, then when his hand started trailing up over the sheets. I woke up before his hand could reach my shoulder, but I couldn’t get back to sleep after that.”

Tamisha hums as she writes a few notes down. “Did you panic at all?”

“Not really. Just like… heart racing” Rosé considers.

“Did you try any of the breathing exercises from last week?” Tamisha asks.

“I tried for a bit, but they didn’t really work, and I gave up.”

“Could you figure out why that was? Was there some kind of distraction?” Tamisha offers a possible option.

“No, I just… every time I closed my eyes, I saw that same thing over and over again.”

“Too anxious?” Tamisha simplifies.

Rosé hums a confirmation as she leans against the arm of the couch, pinching the bridge of her nose with a faint wince.

“Rosé?” Tamisha worries.

“I’ve just got a bit of a headache” Rosé explains.

“You’re exhausted, aren’t you?”

Rosé hums again, sounding close to a whine.

“Okay” Tamisha says more so to herself as she stands from her chair and moves over to open a cupboard against the wall. “I’m going to let you sleep.”

“No, it’s okay. I can…” Rosé protests before her voice trails off.

“You can barely string a sentence together” Tamisha points out as she pulls a blanket out from the cupboard. “We’re not going to make any progress if you’re only half awake.”

Rosé opens her mouth like she wants to protest again but she can’t think of anything and closes it.

“We’ll reschedule this session. I think I’ve got a free space tomorrow we can move it to” Tamisha says.

“I’m sorry, this is a waste of your time” Rosé says as she’s prompted to lie down across the couch.

“Shh” Tamisha quells as she lays the blanket over her. “I’ll catch up on some paperwork. I’m not wasting any time. Just get some sleep.”

Rosé hums contently, already finding it harder to keep her eyes open.

Tamisha smiles warmly at her before she looks behind her to the stuffed wombat on the table. Then she reaches back to grab it and hands it over to Rosé, who smiles as she pulls it under the blanket with her.

“I’ll wake you up near the end of lunch so you can still get something to eat, okay?” Tamisha tells her.

Rosé nods back, finally letting her eyes slip closed. Soon falling asleep, cradling the stuffed wombat in her arms.

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

“You still look tired, sweetheart.” Tamisha frowns as Rosé walks in the next day.

“Oh no, I’m fine” Rosé assures as she sits down across from her, seeming at ease. “I just had a really complicated class before this.”

“What were you learning?” Tamisha inquires.

Rosé can’t help pulling a face before explaining about a complicated maths formula which somehow converts an equation into a squiggly line graph. “…then we’re supposed to be able to do it back the other way as well, and I just don’t get where I’m ever going to need to use it.”

“I doubt you will. By my age I only need the basic operations” Tamisha says.

“Can I drop out then?” Rosé smirks.

“If you want to talk about what you want to get out of your classes, you’ll have to schedule a different kind of appointment with me” Tamisha teases and Rosé scoffs a soft laugh before the subject is changed. “I have an exercise planned for today, but I want to ask you some questions first.”

Rosé hums for her to continue.

“From reading through your dream journal, a lot of it seems to centre around some sort of intimidation. Have you experienced situations in relation to that?”

“My dad doesn’t handle anger well. I just have to be careful with him sometimes” Rosé mentions.

“And what does he do that makes you intimidated by him?” Tamisha prompts.

“He just yells and becomes unreasonable.” Rosé shrugs. “It’s hard to calm him down when he doesn’t listen.”

“Anything more?” Tamisha asks.

Rosé shakes her head, and she gets the sense that Tamisha knows she is still withholding things. Though for now she doesn’t push it and moves along.

“There is also a theme of sexualisation” Tamisha adds.

“I think you’d find it hard to find someone my age who hasn’t been” Rosé answers vaguely.

“Can you expand on that?” Tamisha prompts.

“You work here. Surely you’ve heard what guys say about girls every day” Rosé points out. “They start rumours that they had sex with a girl they’ve never talked to in the parking lot. Some of us get smacked on the ass by boys thinking it’s just a joke. One time I got catcalled three times by three different groups just walking across the Quad.”

“I do know about that” Tamisha admits solemnly. “But in your journal none of those people are kids, Rosé. They’re all adults - one in particular.”

“Well, I mean, yeah.” Rosé looks away, shifting uncomfortably. “Because I expect it from people my age, because they’re all idiots.”

“Can you tell me more about this family friend?” Tamisha requests, reenforcing the topic change. “Has he done anything towards you?”

Rosé chokes on words in the back of her throat, and she cuts sound off. Reaching forward to pick up the stuffed wombat from the table and holding it for comfort before she tries speaking again. “He makes comments here and there” she says, stroking her thumbs into the toy’s fur.

“Nothing more?” Tamisha prompts gently.

“He tries to hold my hand sometimes… but it’s the way he stares at me when he thinks I’m not looking.”

“Has he ever tried to enact anything more provocative with you?” Tamisha words carefully.

“If we sit beside each other he’ll put his hand on my leg, but nothing more than that.”

“Rosé, if something more has happened, know that it’s not your fault—”

“No, no, it’s fine. He hasn’t done anything else. I promise” Rosé speaks honestly. “It’s just…” she trails off, looking up and taking a deep breath before blinking a few times. “It just feels like I’m waiting.”

“Waiting for him to do something more?” Tamisha asks.

Rosé nods.

“And that’s why he is on your mind a lot?” Tamisha guesses.

Rosé nods again. “And I can’t sleep when he’s around. Because what if that is the night?” She swallows deeply, fighting against her voice choking up. “Sometimes, when I wake up, I think that maybe it really happened and that was it. I don’t have to wait anymore.”

Tamisha hums and offers Rosé a sad smile before seeming to stall the conversation. Frowning down at her page and leaving them in silence for a few seconds until she speaks again. “Sweetheart, I’m so sorry to have to ask you this” she begins, “but does some part of you want it to happen? So that waiting feeling can be over.”

Rosé shakes her head. “I just want to stop thinking about it.”

“Okay, let’s talk through it and see if we can help you with that” Tamisha introduces. “Do you find yourself most anxious about nightmares when you are in them or afterward?”

“Afterward” Rosé answers.

“And why is that?”

“It’s just… they’re basically a bunch of what if situations really” Rosé considers. “Some of them are farfetched, but the worst ones are grounded in some kind of realism.”

“So, you’re scared that those same things could happen to you?”

Rosé nods.

“But the variables are different aren’t they?” Tamisha raises. “You’ve said before that in your dreams you can’t move, but you can move while you’re awake, can’t you?”

Rosé nods.

“Can you speak in your dreams?”

“I don’t know. I just kind of figured that no one would hear me.”

“But people would hear you in the real world, wouldn’t they?”

“I guess” Rosé answers although she knows that it is dependent on whether people would listen.

“Do you see what I’m getting at?” Tamisha asks and Rosé nods. “You’re more capable and rational when you are awake. Try to use those skills to rewrite the events of your dreams and they shouldn’t worry you as much.”

“Like invalidate them?” Rosé checks.

“Exactly.” Tamisha smiles at her. “And then over time, hopefully you’ll sleep better.”

#rpdr fanfiction #rosé #rosénali #rosenali #safe house au #tamisha iman

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randomwritingguy · 2 years

Text

The Myth of Y/N (Korra x Reader UNREQUITED) Part 15

TRUTHS REVEALED

Y/N'S POV

It has been a while ago since I had that dream...or vision. Whatever I want to call it. I told Tenzin about it and how all I can remember is a "Wan" person. We have been having more frequent meditation sessions as well as doing our own research about it but we have found nothing. I am certain we will figure it out soon.

Besides all of that spiritual stuff , though, I've just been relaxing and hanging out with everyone. There was that one incident where Ikki ran away because Jinora and Meelo were making fun of her so Tenzin, Kya, and Bumi went out to look for her. The latter two came back with grumpy looks on their faces but soon afterwards Tenzin came back with Ikki. Since then it seems the three children of Avatar Aang have gotten along much better. It looks like they finally sorted things out with their feelings towards their father.

Eventually we all left to go to the Eastern Air Temple. This place feels much different than the southern temple. I don't know how to explain it, it just feels more...spiritual.

Speaking of spirits, I also discovered that some spirits inhabit the area. They look pretty cute to be honest with their bunny-like body and their wing-like ears. I noticed that Jinora could see them too but no-one else can, which is actually not surprising considering what happened in the last temple. The airbender got really friendly with the one of them, she even named it "Furry-Foot." Only children can come up with such creative names, am I right? Kya has been giving us weird looks, though. I don't know if she's starting to figure everything out yet or not.

Right now I'm with the others at the main entrance of the temple about to begin the grand tour of the Eastern Air Temple. We are just waiting for Tenzin and Jinora. I'm currently with Bumi and Kya and we are...validating...the retired commander's story.

"So...let me get this straight." I begin, my lips curved up in an amused smile. "You managed to defeat an earthbender in a rock throwing contest?"

"Yeperdo!" Bumi responds loudly. "And he was a tough one all right. The rocks ranged from small to big, it was unbelievable. It took all of my strength and willpower, but eventually I performed a precise maneuverer and chucked a rock the size of a walnut right at his eye. He called it quits after that, haha!"

I snicker at the the former commander's story. "Sounds like quite an adventure, Bumi."

Kya snorts at my comment. "Don't be fooled, Y/N. Bumi likes to exaggerates a few of his stories from time to time."

"But not this time, I swear!" Bumi quickly retorts. "That is exactly how it went. Come on, Y/N. After all the stories I've told you, surely you'll believe me, right?!"

I chuckle at the scene before and nod in confirmation. I know he exaggerates sometimes, but I think most of the time he is telling the truth. Only the son of the Avatar can pull off the crazy stuff Bumi said he did when he was in the United Forces.

"See!" Bumi exclaims to Kya, the former still having a teasing smile on her face. "Y/N believes me!"

Kya shakes her head but the smile is still present. "That's because you had the past six months to brainwash them into believing whatever you say. Stop telling lies."

Bumi leans forward to his sister, his grin never fading. "It's true! I once beat an earthbender in a rock-throwing contest! I have the trophy to prove it."

Huh, I need to remind myself to ask him to show me his trophy when we get back to Republic City.

Before I can add more into the conversation, Tenzin and Jinora finally arrive to the entrance.

"All right, who's ready for an exciting tour of the Eastern Air Temple?" Tenzin asks everyone, clear enthusiasm written across his face. "We've got a lot to see today including ancient statues, ancient gardens, and the meditation hall used by ancient airbenders."

Awesome!

"That sounds really fascinating, Tenzin." I tell him, a bright smile on my face.

Ikki, on the other hand, seems less enthusiastic than I am.

"Yay. Old things."

Man, kids these days. They never appreciate some good old history and culture. God, I'm starting to sound like my parents. I wonder how they are doing back at the South Pole.

"Korra?!"

Oh, yeah, I wonder how Korra is doi-WAIT WHAT?!

I see Tenzin with wide eyes, staring at one of the entrances. I turn to look at his direction and-

-it is her.

It's Korra. It's actually her, with a bright, gigantic smile, looking more beautiful than ever.

My jaw drops to the floor in shock while the Air Kids just shout out in excitement. "Korra!"

As they all rush towards her, Pema asks the obvious question. "What are you doing here?"

Kya speaks up, asking her the second obvious question. "And how did you know where to find us?"

"Tenzin's itinerary" Korra responds, her smile ever present. "We went over it like a hundred times before we left Republic City."

Yep. I remember that too.

"See?" Tenzin tells his brother and sister. "This is why schedules are important."

I snicker at the airbender's comment. I turn back to Korra who is still smiling.

"It's so great to see you all again." she tells us, briefly engaging eye contact with me.

I can feel myself sweating a bit at her gaze. Are we cool now? I don't know.

"It's great to see you too." Tenzin responds. "But why aren't you training at the South Pole?"

Actually, now I think about it, why is Korra here?

Korra's face flashes with surprise and confusion. "Wait, you don't know about the Civil War?"

Civil War?! WHAT?!

"Civil War?! No, we don't." I tell her, my heart beginning to race.

"We've been out of touch with the outside world since we started our vacation." Tenzin explains, though I can hear the shock in his voice.

"Tenzin's idea." Bumi remarks. "What happened?"

"So much." Korra begins. "I don't know where to start."

Tenzin doesn't care though, desiring to know what happened. "Just tell us everything!"

"Everything?" Korra asks, doubt in her voice. "Okay."

I'm sure it can't be that much. How confusing can it be-

"I opened a spirit portal at the South Pole, but then Unalaq turned out to be a bad guy and wanted to take control of the south, so I sort of started a civil war, but when I went to find some help, I was attacked by my cousins and then by a giant, dark spirit, and then I forgot who I was, and then I met the first Avatar, and then I realised I shouldn't have opened the portal in the first place, and now I need to close it again!"

...

What?

"I knew this would happen." Tenzin simply responds. But I ignore the comment. I'm still trying to unpack everything Korra said.

There's a spirit portal at the South Pole and Korra needs to close it?

Unalaq is evil? And he wanted to take control of the south?

Eska and Desna are working for him too?

Dark spirits?

And...

"The first Avatar." I start, gaining Korra's attention and she looks at me curiously. "They wouldn't happen to be called Wan, right?"

My question makes Korra gasp in shock. "Yes. How do you know about Avatar Wan?"

I'm going to tell her everything.

"A while ago I had a vision when I was asleep. Like last time when you and I were kidnapped, I couldn't remember any of it. All I remember is the name "Wan." It appears the name has some significance after all."

"Since then Y/N and I have been trying to increase our meditation sessions and deepen our research." Tenzin adds on. "But so far we've got nothing."

I hum in confirmation to Tenzin's explanation.

Wait.

WAIT!

"Oh spirits, is everyone okay?" I ask Korra, desperation completely evident. "Are my parents safe?! Are yours?! Are Mako, Bolin, Asami, and Kyuni fine too?!"

Korra's face flashes with sympathy and she raises her hands in reassurance. "Everyone is fine, Y/N. Our friends are back in Republic City. Unalaq arrested my father and yours along with a few others. He accused them of plotting to assassinate him. We managed to rescue them and they are planning on fighting back at home."

My dad was arrested? And now he's helping Tonraq fight Unalaq? Dammit. I hope he's okay. I can't imagine how mum must be feeling. I hope she's fine too.

"Korra, I need you to come with me." Tenzin tells her, his gaze hardening. "We need to discuss more about everything. I want all of the details."

Korra nods at the airbender's request. As she walks past me she briefly stops and whispers "We'll talk later." and carries on, walking away with Tenzin.

As they finally leave my vision, I take a deep breathe and release it. This is far bigger and complicated than I thought it was.

LATER

Korra's POV

I've just finished telling Tenzin everything that's happened. It's good to see everyone again, especially Y/N. I didn't realise how I much I missed my best friend until I saw them again.

But now's not the time. Now I need to focus on travelling to the Spirit World.

"So Avatar Wan imprisoned this dark spirit Vaatu in the spirit world?" Tenzin asks me, wanting reassurance that he heard everything right.

I confirm the airbender's question. "Yes, and now I think my uncle is trying to free him."

I still find all of this hard to believe. My own uncle is evil after all this time.

"I knew Unalaq was hungry for power but never realised how far he would go to to get it." Tenzin comments, looking back on all of my uncle's deeds and actions in hindsight.

Unalaq tricked me. He played me for a fool. I should have known better!

"This is all my fault." I tell him, voicing my inner thoughts aloud.

Tenzin ,though, is quick to refute me. "No, don't blame yourself. This is Unalaq's doing. Now, we must focus on setting things right before he can do any more damage."

He doesn't blame me for any of it? I really needed to hear that.

"Thank you." I simply tell him. There aren't enough words to express my gratitude.

"So you need to close the southern portal, but if Unalaq's army controls the South, how are we going to get to it?" Tenzin asks me with curiosity.

And that's where my plan comes in.

"I thought about it." I assure the airbender. "My best chance to close the portal is from the inside. I have to enter the Spirit World."

Tenzin's eyes briefly widen in surprise to my plan but harden again soon after. "A journey into the Spirit World. All my years of spiritual training have prepared me for this moment." He rises from the bench, standing tall and proud, full of confidence. "I will help you. Today, we enter the Spirit World."

Yes. We will.

A FEW MINUTES LATER

Tenzin has taken me to some meditation garden. It looks very peaceful.

"You're lucky." Tenzin remarks. "This temple is the most spiritual of all the air temples. Why, this very garden is where my father met Guru Pathik."

Woah, really? Cool!

"Wow!" I exclaim, my enthusiasm evident. "Spirit World, here we come."

Me, Tenzin, Y/N, Bumi, Kya, Jinora, Meelo, and Ikki all travelled further into the garden until eventually we were surrounded by trees and greenery. It looks beautiful.

Right now, Tenzin and I are in meditative positions, our eyes closed. I clear my mind of all my thoughts like usual. In the background I can hear Meelo playing some tune and Ikki is pouring some air into a horn of some sort. Despite all of these methods, nothing has happened so far.

Eventually, I slightly open my right eye to glance at Tenzin. "Are you in the Spirit World?" I whisper to him.

The airbender opens his left eye, a frown on his face. "I would be if Meelo could ring his bell at the appropriate intervals."

Ouch, that must have hurt.

And it looks like I was right too, as I see Meelo's saddened look. "Aww, did I do it wrong?"

Tenzin quickly rises and huffs, clearly frustrated. "Let's try something else."

As he walks away, I glance back at Meelo, feeling sorry for him. "I thought your bell ringing was just fine."

My reassurance seemed to cheer the air kid up as a massive grin forms on his face and begins ringing the bell repeatedly. Ah, Meelo. Always super hyper.

We are now at another location, candles and smoke everywhere. We are all silent.

I hear Tenzin coughing next to me. Ah, maybe we overdid it with the smoke.

"Kya, this is too much smoke." Tenzin complains to his sister. "You set it up wrong. This isn't going to work."

Geez. First Meelo, now his sister?

"I'm sorry. I did what you told me." Kya responds, attempting to defend herself.

Tenzin is having none of that, though, as he gets up and begins walking away. "Well, the moment's ruined."

Really? That was fast.

I stand up myself and start following him. "We could have tried a little longer." I tell him, but he isn't listening. Dammit.

Now Tenzin and I are at another location again. It's just the two of us trying to meditate. Hopefully this time it will work.

"Focus, Korra. Focus." Tenzin tells me, as if I'm being distracted. Seriously?

"I am focusing" I tell him.

"No talking." Tenzin quickly responds. "Feel the energy of the universe."

But I am feeling the energy though???

"Okay, I feel it." I tell him. I'm so tired of this.

"Korra, really!" Tenzin snaps at me, his frustration at his peak. "I'm trying to concentrate here! I don't think this location is going to work either."

Seriously? What is his deal?

"What's going on with you?" I ask him. I want to get to the bottom of what's bothering him. "First, you're blaming Meelo, then Kya, and now me."

Tenzin isn't listening though. "Well, nothing is feeling right to me."

I rise from my position, trying to calm him down. "I don't want to rush your feelings, but we're kind of in a hurry. How did you first get into the Spirit World? Let's try that."

There we go. A simple solution.

Surprisingly though, Tenzin's face shifts to...embarrassment? "Well...actually, I've never been into the Spirit World."

WHAT?! HE HASN'T BEEN THERE BEFORE?!

The others approach us, shocked as I am. This...this is unreal!

"You've never been into the Spirit World?" I ask him, hoping that I misheard him or something!

He doesn't reply. Dammit!

"But you used to spend days in the temple meditating." Pema says, confused by her husband's confession.

"Trying to get in." Tenzin explains. He doesn't look at any of us, instead focusing his attention on the ground. His eyes are full of shame. "It never happened. It's my greatest shortcoming as an airbender, spiritual leader, and son of Aang."

Bumi laughs in the background at all of this. "Welcome to the "I disappoint Dad" club."

Not a good time, Bumi. Not a good time.

"If you've never been to the Spirit World, how were you planning on to get Korra into it?" Kya asks her brother, clearly confused by his actions.

Actually, yeah. How was he planning on taking me to the Spirit World?

Finally, the airbender turns to us, determination replacing his shame. "I've spent years studying the techniques and theories of ancient spiritual leaders. Now that the Avatar needs me, it must be my time."

I...I'm not so sure about that. This sounds more like a false hope if I am really honest.

"Tenzin, Harmonic Convergence is almost here." I explain to him, hoping to make him realise how serious the situation is. "If Vaatu escapes from the Spirit World--"

"--You have to trust me." Tenzin interrupts. He seems to be pleading with me at this point "I can help you."

I'm sorry, Tenzin, but I don't think you can.

"There might be another way."

Kya?

We turn to Kya, who is looking at...Y/N and Jinora?

"Jinora, Y/N, is there something you want to tell Korra?" Kya asks them,.

Tell me what?

"Jinora?" Tenzin asks his sister, doubt in his tone. "She is too young and untrained to have any knowledge about spiritual matters."

I speak up to. "Yeah, Y/N hasn't got any training on spiritual stuff either."

Y/N chuckles nervously and rubs the back of their neck. "Yeah, uh, about that...we sort of have an idea on what to do."

"Yeah, I think Y/N and I know where Korra needs to go to get into the Spirit World." Jinora finishes, looking right at us.

What?! For real?!

"And how would you two know that?" Tenzin asks them, the doubt still evident.

Y/N and Jinora glance at each other for a split second, and then back to us. Then Y/N speaks up. "Our...spirit friends showed us."

Spirit friends?!

Jinora speaks up too. "It's okay, guys, you can show yourselves."

Suddenly, in the blink of an eye, multiple spirits show up all around us. They look really cute. They have the appearance of bunnies and they use their ears to fly. So adorable!

"How did you do that?!" Tenzin asks them, clear disbelief written across his face.

"Jinora!" Pema exclaims, clearly proud of her daughter.

I chuckle and cross my arms. "Looks like you're spiritual after all, Y/N."

Y/N chuckles. "I guess so."

As the bunnies go further outside, Tenzin approaches Jinora. "I know you and Y/N had a spiritual incident before but...how long have you two been able to do this?"

Jinora's face warps into confusion, clearly trying to figure out the answer to that question. "I don't know. I guess we've always kind of had a connection with spirits. Isn't that right, Y/N?"

I see Y/N chuckle again. "At this point, I'm not really surprised."

Hmm. Can they help us, though?

"Are they here to help?" I ask Jinora.

Jinora points into the direction the spirits are heading towards. "I think they want you to go down there."

Tenzin still has his doubts though. "I don't know. The spiritual energy is historically strongest near this temple."

Seriously, Tenzin?

"No offense, but I'm guessing the spirits have actually been to the Spirit World, so I'm gonna follow them." I tell him, having made my own mind up.

Bumi walks up to his brother, giving him a teasing smile. "If we ever need to go to the Tenzin world, we'll call you."

I hear Y/N snicker in the background. I smile at the scene.

LATER

Y/N'S POV

We are on Oogi, following the spirits that Jinora and I befriended. I hope they have found a way for Korra to go into the Spirit World.

Speaking of Jinora, she looks quite sad for some reason. I'll ask her about it.

"Hey, Jinora. What's up?" I ask her.

She doesn't look at me, she keeps having the same sad expression. "I think dad's mad at me."

Oh.

Kya tries to reassure the young airbender, giving her a warm smile. "Your father's not mad. His pride's just a little bruised since he isn't able to see spirits like you and Y/N."

"Yeah." Korra adds in. She glances between me and Jinora. "You two have a natural gift. That's pretty lucky."

Huh...I never saw it like that. Yeah, I guess we are.

Jinora see things differently though. "You're the lucky one. You actually got to meet the first Avatar. I know a lot about Avatars, but I don't know anything about him. Is it even a him, or is it a her?"

"It's a him, Avatar Wan." Korra quickly responds. "He was amazing. I saw how he became the first Avatar by fusing with Raava, the spirit of light."

See, all of that stuff sounds so familiar. I must have dreamt about that. Dammit, of course I forget 99% about it.

"The Avatar is part spirit?" Jinora asks aloud. Then her eyes widen like she figured something out. "Of course!" She turns to me, her eyes even wider. "It's just like the statue, Y/N!"

Oh shit, yeah! How could I have forgotten about that?!

"Yeah, you're right!" I tell her, confirming her theory.

"What statue?" Kya asks us, glancing between us.

I lean forward to get a bit closer. They need to hear this. "When we were at the Southern Air Temple, Jinora and I were drawn to this old statue. At the time we had no idea what it was about, but I guess we do now. It was Avatar Wan. Who would have thought?"

I can see Korra's eyes widen too, her mouth agape. "When did this happen, Y/N?"

"It was at the solstice, I believe." I tell her, and her eyes somehow get even bigger.

"That's the day I opened the southern portal." she announces to us all, her surprise evident.

Woah, what?! That's what that whole thing was about? It was because of Korra?!

After that bombshell of a reveal, we finally arrived. After a few minutes of walking, we made it to the place the spirits wanted to show us.

Wow.

There's some sort of ancient meditation spot here. Big rocks full of carvings on them, vines all over the place. It looks like it hasn't been touched in years.

"This is an ancient airbender meditation circle." Tenzin declares, sounding just as shocked as we are.

As I look around, I can feel a lot of spiritual energy surrounding this place. I can't describe it, I just feel it.

"This place is full of spiritual energy." I comment.

I glance at Jinora to see if she's feeling it too. She nods back as confirmation. "Yeah, there is a lot here. But it feels...strange."

I concentrate a bit harder and...yeah. It does feel strange. Something's not right.

"We'll have to perform a spiritual cleansing ceremony." Tenzin says, providing a solution to this strange feeling.

"What are you talking about?" Bumi asks the most obvious question to his brother.

Tenzin turns to the retired commander. "Dad taught it to me. This site has been neglected for many years. A cleansing ceremony will help strengthen its connection to the Spirit World."

After setting the ceremony up, Tenzin begins the process. Using the smoke from the pot, he airbends it into a ring, surrounding us. However, our spirit friends begin flying away. Suddenly, the Earth beneath us begins to shake. What's going on?!

"It's working." Tenzin notes, still continuing the process.

Then, out of nowhere, hundreds of dark spirits begin pouring out of the hole in the centre, flying right up into the sky...only to turn around and come back to us!

SHIT!

We all rush to take cover as the spirits rush past us, only to once again change their trajectory and start heading towards us. Tenzin and Korra try to stop them with their beniding, but it's no use. We all duck to avoid being hit by tem.

DAMMIT! WHAT ARE WE GOING TO DO?!

I turn to Korra to ask her that question, but I see her getting up and walking to the centre of the circle. What is she doing?!

Then, a moment later, Korra uses her waterbending to surround the dark spirits in loops. After a few hand motions, the loops begin to glow...

Wait.

She's trying to calm them! Like what Unalaq did to that dark spirit back in the South Pole!

Then, finally, a flash of golden light blinds my vision. When it returns, the spirits are gone. They are at peace. I look around the circle, and I realise that the vines and moss that covered the large stones are fading away too. In fact, they are fading away from the entire meditation ground!

I rush up to my best friend, full of bewilderment. "Korra, that was amazing!"

Korra smiles faintly. "Thanks. Unalaq may be a horrible person, but his spirt powers are no joke."

I smile back. "Korra, you are amazing. I...I'm sorry I left you with him back at the South Pole."

I can see her eyes flashing with sympathy and she walks closer, placing both her hands on my shoulders. "No, Y/N, don't apologise. I was the one who was being a massive jerk to you. I'm the one who owes you an apology. I was just being arrogant and immature with the whole "sides" thing. I'm really sorry."

My heart aches at her words, and I pull her into a fierce hug. We stay like that for a few moments and finally let go, gazing into each other's eyes with big smiles.

"I'm sorry too, Korra." Tenzin tells her, breaking the moment we were sharing. "Unalaq taught you how to transform dark spirits. I can't even get you into the Spirit World."

Korra is quick to respond to the airbender's self deprecating comments. "Everything Unalaq taught me was to help himself. Everything you've done was meant to help me. I am so sorry for turning my back on you as my mentor. I need you now more than ever."

Tenzin's face hardens. "I will not let you down."

They both exchange a quick hug. After the sweet moment is over, Tenzin walks closer to the centre of the meditation circle. "The ancient airbenders must have built this site. If we meditate here, we'll be able to enter the Spirit World."

"Why don't you go first?" Korra gently asks him. My heart warms as I hear Korra's compassionate words. She knows this means a lot to Tenzin.

"After all these years, my father's dream for me will finally come true." the airbender declares, his hope returning.

Lets do this.

LATER

It's gotten dark. Tenzin has been meditating for who knows how long now. I don't think it's working.

Bumi decides to have some little fun and begins poking his brother with a big stick. "You in the Spirit World yet?"

"No, I am not, and stop bothering me." Tenzin immediately snaps, airbending the stick away. His hope now replaced with frustration.

Man, I hate to see Tenzin like this. He doesn't deserve this.

"It's okay, Tenzin." Kya assures him. "Maybe you weren't meant to guide Korra into the Spirit World."

"No!" Tenzin responds, denying the reality of the situation. "Just give me some time."

Kya, however, is having none of it. "Stop being so stubborn. Its not your destiny. I think Jinora and Y/N were meant to guide the Avatar."

I mean...after all the spiritual stuff Jinora and I experienced...I guess that makes sense.

The idea of his daughter going into the Spirit World is understandably displeasing to Tenzin, though. "Jinora will not enter the Spirit World! Nor will Y/N! They are not ready for the dangers of the other side, but I am. I've spent years training, studying, and mastering everything there is to know about the Spirit World."

Oh...he was looking out for me to.

"Tenzin, we're running out of time." Korra warns the airbender.

The son of Aang is not listening despite Korra's warning. "If everyone could just be quiet and let me focus."

Before anyone can speak up, Jinora walks to her father and grabs his hand, comforting him. "Aunt Kya is right. Y/N and I can guide Korra into the Spirit World. I'll be all right. Y/N will be alright. We'll be fine."

Tenzin looks back to all of us, his eyes flashing with hurt but also...acceptance.

Finally, he turns back to his daughter. "Perhaps I will never have the connection with spirits like I always wanted...like my father wanted me to have."

Jinora wraps her father into a warm hug. "It's okay, daddy."

Tenzin reciprocates the hug, a smile forming on his face. "I'm proud of you." He turns back to Korra. "Go. Close the portal. We'll wait here and keep your bodies safe till you return." He glances at me. "Look out for my daughter."

I nod at the airbenders request. He sends a smile to me, one full of gratitude. Soon after that, Jinora, Korra, and I get into our meditative positions. We clear our minds, let our thoughts flow out like a river. I can feel a pull of some sort, intensifying each second. And, in a bright flash, it is done.

Spirit World, here we are.

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And that's it! I hope you all enjoyed it! :D

Constructive criticism is always appreciated!

See you all in the next chapter!

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kellshaw · 3 months

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2023 Writer Year in Review

It’s time for a late 2023 review post where I reflect on life, the universe and my author career. I did one last year which makes a good benchmark. Let’s see how I did!

2023 Goals vs Actual

Finish the next two books in the Revenant Records series

Completed half of this. I got Feral Night out, and I’m working on the third book in the series. Not quite at the stage of getting two to three books out per year. But I’m happy with the book I released—it’s a solid improvement over Final Night (which I still think is a pretty good first author book!) Currently, I’m knee deep in the entrails of book 3. I got ambitious and I’m attempting a puzzle mystery with two POVs which is slowing me down as I work through everything. I also won’t put this up for pre-order until it’s 100 percent finished, which includes proofing covers, backmatter—the works!

Complete twelve issues of the monthly newsletter

Done! I’ve kept the newsletter going. Still writing it in character, as it’s more fun that way. (In character? Check it out!)

Submit original short stories to magazines

This did not happen. I went through my old backlog of shorts and found a sword-and-sorcery-ish story that might be worthy of magazine submission with a bit of polishing.

Write a proper Lukie-focused short as a reader magnet

Done! It’s always good when your giveaway story relates to your in-progress series. You can grab Fiery Night here as a newsletter sign-up bonus.

I would like to do a second, completely free short for a wide release and even have an idea for one. Will do this later, but not prioritize it.

Streamline my automation sequence for the newsletter

This was a bit of admin that I kept putting off, but it’s done now. Need to improve and develop the sequence further.

Engage an artist for some character/concept sketches + learn to draw

I got some done by a talented artist for my newsletter which are fantastic, but I won’t be happy with sketches until I can draw my own characters competently. This year, I did a few simple art courses at my local community college and attended a few live drawing sessions. This year, I’ll keep practicing. I also signed up for an online drawing academy by clicking on a random Facebook ad and going “Hey, that’s not too bad” (I know, I know). Was stymied also by Apple Pencil breaking, and had to revert to the less technical Graphite Pencil.

Social media, book reviews

I continue to be inconsistent with social media. I do this ad hoc posts, but a meh presence on social media. Not good at the funny meme stuff, and my book-a-year schedule means I can’t do too much around launches. I tried many social medias in 2023. I should pick something and be consistent.

2024 Goals

Okay, here we go. In 2024, I’m going to simplify my list. In fact, I had a more complicated list. Start a subscription! Work on the tabletop roleplaying set in the Vestiges of Magic world, do more drawing, and then when I got some strategic advice which was...

Write the next book... No side projects?

And that’s my core goal for next year!

Finish Revenant Records #3 - Fractured Night

Still in progress. At first it was a puzzle mystery and now it’s more about the characters. The premise is like the Shining crossed with a dark faerie tale....

Start the 2024 web serial, do a chapter a month

I completed a web serial last year, which I’m sitting on until I get more material out to launch a series with it. (Having launched a series on the fly, my next series will have a bit more material ready to go before I launch.) This will be in my newsletter and on my website. I’ve got about four chapters done. The premise: a woman seeks the help of a supernatural assassin to avenge her murdered daughter, but the assassin she needs to help her has retired....

#writeblr #urban fantasy #writers of tumblr #indie publishing #author business

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aroaceconfessions · 2 years

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https://aroaceconfessions.tumblr.com/post/686688214120054784/hey-im-writing-here-because-i-need-advice-and-i

Hi! I’m this anon 👆

First of all I want to thank everyone who answered my original post, you all really helped!

Secondly, I’m here for an update and ulterior advice (sorry if I’m annoying, but I literally have no one else that knows that I’m both aroace and going to therapy, so here we are).

TW: internalized aroacephobia, drinking, therapy.

So, after my previous post I’ve been to therapy a few times. Luckily, the topic of romantic/sexual relationships never came up again because I had more urgent matters to reflect on. And I hadn’t worried about it since literally my last post, but I went to my last session three days ago and once again I had to face this topic.

For context: I had skipped two weeks of therapy because I’ve been really busy with planning a five months long stay in another country. I’m leaving soon. This week, luckily, everything is calmer so I went to my normally scheduled appointment and everything went well. We focused more on my anxiety because I actually had a few episodes and I wanted to work through them before moving away.

Because of my imminent departure, however, my therapist took a few minutes at the end of my appointment to give me advice and a small recap of my journey/growth till now (which I REALLY appreciated, don’t get me wrong). However in this recap he also mentioned that he would have liked to talk about non-platonic relationships, but my aroace ass never gave him the opening for it. I found this observation pretty fair actually, seeing as a lot of my journey in therapy focused on relationships, how they define me and what role I tend to assume in them. However, he continued his speech saying something along the lines of: “I want you to take this period [the travel] as an opportunity to explore yourself and your boundaries.To let go. And, why not, to explore [non-platonic] relationships. So if you find a boy you like - or a girl - go for it.”

Basically, he told me slut it out lol

But now I find myself with doubts for my last appointment before leaving the country:

1) Do I actually open Pandora's box and come out to my therapist knowing that I won’t be able to go fully in depth of the issue in just one session? Doing this would allow me to get more “tailored” advice for my stay outside the country and actually work on my anxiety from another point of view (not the non-platonic relationships one he already suggested). But it’s still super scary considering I don’t have a lot of time to explain myself (altough he actually acknowledged the possibility of me being queer!!! “or a girl”).

2) Second issue. In a fucked up why that I know I shouldn’t even be considering (for myself), what my therapist said makes sense. I feel like in a way he’s right and I should try exploring relationships, but I’m afraid I won’t ever be able to do it on my terms and that scares me because I already went through a “maybe I just need to get drunk enough to not feel repulsed” phase and luckily nothing bad actually happened. But now that I’m on the verge of moving continents and traveling alone I’m afraid I might resolve to that side of me again and go through grief and internalized ace/arophobia again and, man, I honestly feel like crying just at the thought of that. I wish there would be a safe and sure way to have these experiences but it’s either the unsafety of one-night-stands or the risk of losing a friendship because I decided to gamble on it in the hope I would develop romantic/sexual attraction.

I honestly feel so lonely and tired. It seems like this sexuality crisis will never end and like I might always be lying to myself.

I was so hopeful after my last therapy session, but the more I think about it the more I want to scream.

Sorry for the long post, I hope you all have a nice day! 🧡💛🤍💙

#aromantic #asexual #aroace #arospec #acespec #aspec #aroacespec #arose #internalized aphobia #anxiety #mental health #coming out #therapy

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emiwasabi · 2 years

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It's Complicated: Chapter 4

If you’re interested in being on my tag list, please let me know!

On My Block tag list:

Chapter 1 | Chapter 2 | Chapter 3

The last couple months were grueling. Between working at the restaurant, hanging out with Cesar, much to Antonio’s dismay, and trying to prepare for my first year of teaching, I was physically and mentally drained. Geny kept dropping subtle hints about the dark bags under my eyes every morning at breakfast. Hell, even Al took time to look pointedly at them, pushing for me to sleep in Paco’s now cleaned out room instead of the lumpy couch. He said it would give me a better nights’ sleep. The current arrangement was killing my neck and back. But I declined the offer, choosing to sleep on that couch was better than staring at the bedroom ceiling and wishing that Paco would sneak through the door for a nightly smoke session.

“Cesar!” I yelled, while strolling through his front door juggling three full grocery bags. Cesar dropped the game controller and took two of the bags off my hands, throwing me a furtive glance.

He placed them on the chipped formica counter and started taking stuff out, commenting about the chips and cereal in appreciation. “You didn’t have to do this,” He said. “I could’ve gotten Sad Eyes to get groceries.”

I rolled my eyes and huffed, “Please, the only thing he would buy is beer, bread and peanut butter. Come to think of it, I’m not even sure the guy eats anything. I’ve only ever seen him drink and smoke,” I said while taking the milk out of the bag and putting it in the fridge. Cesar seemed on edge, rubbing the back of his neck and switching his weight from one side to the other.

Just as I turned around to empty the rest of the bag, it was dragged away towards the end of the counter. I just stared with my head tilted at the sudden odd behavior. “Don’t worry about unloading things, I can do it.” He moved closer and tried to usher me through the kitchen doorway while talking quickly. “I’m sure you’re super busy with getting ready for school and helping with the restaurant. Plus with the whole moving thing, you probably have a lot of packing to do and I wouldn’t want to stand in your way.” He urged with a forced smile. I dug my heels into the ground just at the end of the hallway and whipped around to face him.

“What the hell has gotten into you?” I demanded with crossed arms. “I’m not even that busy!” I lied. “And school doesn’t start for another three weeks!” Cesar groaned and leaned against the hallway wall, keeping an eye on the front door.

“Oscar got out today.” It felt like my heart dropped to my stomach. How did it happen so soon? I asked myself while trying to work it out in my head. Has it really been two months already? “I knew there was a possibility of it happening,” he said, staring hard at my shocked expression. “I just didn’t think he would actually get good behavior.”

I stood there, mouth still hanging open, frozen with disbelief. I wasn’t ready to see him, it was all happening too soon. It’s not like I haven’t thought about this in the last two months. Every scenario that I came up with in my head ended badly. It was like watching an accident happen in slow motion over and over again. “I should go.” I whispered hoarsely.

Before Cesar could agree and I could get my purse, the front door opened. Heavy footsteps started coming from the living room. “Mano!” Oscar’s voice rang out. I swallowed at the low and gruff tone and moved further into the kitchen, motioning for Cesar to go say hi. Cesar looked as nervous as I felt but he nodded jerkily and put on a smile before running out to the living room. The conversation was muffled but I could hear the excited lift in Oscar’s tone when he commented on his little brother's height, talking about how grown up he had gotten. It broke my heart a little bit to think that he was out of his little brother's life for so long, especially during these pivotal years. That was always the worst case scenario, not being there to take care of his family.

The voices got clearer, footsteps came closer as they walked down the hallway to the kitchen. Cesar was rambling on about his friends and everything they did that summer while Oscar gave out occasional grunts and interjected with questions. I didn’t have time to prepare to see him for the first time in five years. So when they rounded the corner, I put on a half smile and waited for the reaction. I wasn’t expecting complete elation from the man but I sure as fuck was surprised when he glared at me with such contempt.

Oscar looked between Cesar and I, eyes zeroed in on the remaining grocery bags scattered across the counter. “What the fuck are you doing here?” He had changed, at least physically. He was tall and lean before prison but now he was buff, with impressive muscles on his arms and shoulders. The head was shaved, typical, but the teardrop on the right corner of his eye was new. A neatly trimmed goatee sat above his lips. And there was something about his demeanor, it was cold and dangerous. His eyes, those beautiful hazel orbs that I loved so much, focused on my rigid posture and rapidly beating heart. It’s like he could hear it from across the kitchen and a small smirk formed on his still plump lips. God, I missed those lips and that smile.

Cesar, clearly picking up on the tension, jumped in between him and I. He gestured towards the grocery bags, “Laney was just dropping some groceries off.” Eyes looked pointedly at me. “I’m sure she needs to go, though.”

It wasn’t a subtle hint, and there was a part of me that longed to get out of the tense atmosphere. I wanted to run away and pretend I never saw Oscar again. Pretend that he was still the boy that I left five years ago, even though that was impossible. Yet I stayed, frozen against the counter, gripping it for dear life. At least he still had his old habits, jaw tensed up and his left eyebrow raised high above the other. It was a sign that he was agitated, whether that was at me or Cesar, I couldn’t tell. “Go to your room, Cesar,” It was a command and he wanted to follow it, feet started moving in that direction but he stood tall and moved towards his brother.

“No, you can’t tell me what to do.” I appreciated his attempt but all it took was a long silent glare from the older Diaz and the boy was out the doorway in a flash. Didn’t even turn around to say goodbye.

Oscar chuckled a bit at the show, like having his brother terrified of him was a good thing. It reminded me of how his father, Cuchillos, raised them. With fear and consequence. It made my stomach twist uncomfortably to think about those times. We both stared at each other for a while in silence, neither of us really knowing what to say. What could we say? It had been five years of zero contact and here I was in his kitchen, feeding his little brother. Oscar sniffed and walked towards the fridge, instantly reaching for a beer. He turned back around and leaned casually against the opposite counter with those hazel eyes locked onto mine. “I heard about the teaching thing. Thought you hated history?”

There was a slight tilt to the corner of his mouth, like he was remembering our project from so long ago. I shrugged and took a deep breath to calm the nerves. “I liked history, I just hated the teacher.”

He nodded downing the rest of his beer and running his hand over his mouth. “Mmmhmm, I’m pretty sure he hated you too.” I smiled and pushed my hair behind my hair. Oscar squinted at the grocery bags. “You don’t need to be here, buying shit for him.” Guess we were done going down memory lane. “I got the Santos to cover him.” There was absolute pride in his voice when he spoke about them. That tight feeling in my stomach didn’t let up.

I rolled my eyes and pushed off from the counter, bypassing him and tearing open the fridge. It was still pretty empty even after the grocery trip. “The only thing that was restocked in here was beer,” Oscar glared at me, daring me to continue. “This thing was practically empty when I moved back here.” I started pulling open cabinet doors now, pointing out the lack of canned goods and pasta. Stuff that’s convenient to have for someone who doesn’t know how to cook. “I’m pretty sure he was relying on takeout but yeah, you’re boys definitely took care of him.” I stated and leaned back in my original position, across the kitchen from him. It was a low blow to rip on the fact that Oscar wasn’t here to take care of Cesar and I regretted the dig as soon as I saw the flash of hurt in his eyes, before it was replaced with anger. Oscar slammed the bottle on the counter and stalked over to me, putting his body flush against mine and putting his hands over mine on the counter so I couldn’t get away. We’ve been in this position before but back then Oscar was looking at me with love in his eyes and a mischievous smirk. My heart jumped at the contact, his tall and strong body pressing against mine.

“You don’t have a right to come in here and talk about how I raise my brother.” His hot breath fanned over my face, lips inches from mine. My eyes stayed trained on his cross necklace, sitting perfectly against his chest. I breathed in the familiar comforting smell of cologne and cigarette smoke. “He’s not your family.” That one hurt and I breathed in sharply, eyes meeting his and eyebrows scrunched up. “And you aren’t gonna hang around him anymore.”

“That’s not fair.” I argued. “I was here for him the last couple of months while you weren’t. You can’t just come in here, fresh out of prison and tell me what I am and am not going to do. I don’t give a shit how badass you think you are.” I managed to wiggle my hands out from under his and pushed on his buff chest, wanting to get his body away from me. It was bringing back memories, good memories that were threatening to crumble Oscar’s new personality. He backed off a little, clearly surprised at the aggression and sneered, showing off a brief flash of pearly white teeth.

“I run shit around here, not you. If I say you’re not buying my family groceries, then you’re not.” He was getting closer again and my heart was beating hard. Oscar would never do anything super drastic and definitely would never hit me but the air in the kitchen felt electrified. It’s like the last five years have turned him into a tyrant, just like his father. “And if I say you’re not gonna be hanging around him, giving false ideas,” Oscar motioned towards his head with wide eyes before pressing his body up against me again. “You sure as hell are not.” My breath hitched at the statement, or was it a threat?

A timid throat cleared from the doorway where Cesar stood, looking on uncomfortably. “You guys okay?”

Oscar backed off me after a bit and nodded towards his brother while glancing down at his vibrating phone. He didn’t even look at me, just headed towards his younger brother and clapped him on the shoulder on the way out. He mumbled something about the Santos, causing Cesar to tense up. “Yeah,” He said before turning to me. “Thanks again for all of the stuff you did.” It sounded like a goodbye and rage at his stupid brother filled up my heart. “I’ll see you around.” They both walked out and I looked around momentarily at the empty kitchen.

I waited until the roar of the Impala faded down the street before rushing to my car. It wasn’t until driving away from the stucco house that I broke down. The tears came fast and hard, like I finally realized that there was truth to what Antonio was saying. This wasn’t the same Oscar that I fell in love with. Maybe he was there, somewhere deep inside. Question was, did I even want to find him? Or was I just gonna let it stay buried? I contemplated these questions while rubbing the running makeup from my face with handy makeup wipes after parking by the Ramirez residence. Knowing Geny, she would be on me instantly if she saw the remnants of my meltdown.

I was finishing my night hygiene routine in the only bathroom in the house. There was always so much commotion and activity that I had to pick a time that was as late as possible so that I wouldn’t get interrupted. Halfway through brushing my teeth and the off colored white door crept open. Lana peeked through the small slit and whispered. “Can I come in?”

A huff of exaggeration threatened to leave my mouth, unchecked. The last thing I wanted to do was to sit down and talk out my feelings but the nagging voice in my head said that this is what she needed to talk about. After spitting out the remaining toothpaste and gargling, I mumbled a “yeah”.

She shuffled in wringing her hands nervously and sat on the edge of the tub. “So, what’s up?” It seemed like given the chance, Lana would have immediately spit out the question. The nail biting and pensive look was new.

“When you were here...before....” She paused again, almost like she was at a loss for words. “Were you dating Spooky?”

The question was so surprising that the lotion bottle clattered to the ground. “Oh god, sorry.” I whispered, hoping that the noise didn’t wake anyone in the house. “Um, I was. Why would you ask?” I said with knitted eyebrows.

Lana’s face turned from nervous to angry. She watched me while I rubbed the moisturizer into my face. “I don’t want you to get back together with him, he’s a murderer.” She took a deep breath before admitting the next part. “He’s the one that killed Paco.”

With that, I turned around harshly and gripped the side of the sink to keep my balance. “Woah woah woah. Lana, that’s a serious accusation.” She nodded solemnly. “Plus, he was in jail when Paco passed away.”

“I know that. Just because I’m young doesn’t mean I don’t know things…” Her voice was filled with exasperation.

“Okay,” I mouthed to myself before crouching down on the light blue rug and putting a comforting hand on her back. “You’re right. You’re old enough to know these things. So, when you say that Oscar was the one that killed Paco, what do you mean exactly?”

She looked down and stared at her fingers. “Well, Paco didn’t really get involved with the Santos until you showed up and started dating Spooky. And I heard him talking to someone...before the fight with papa...about doing something in Prophet territory. Paco was talking to Spooky...and Spooky gave the order. Even though he was shot by a Prophet, he was there because of the Santos. My brother is dead because of that order.”

It took a lot to keep my composure during her speech. The objection to her statement was on the tip of my tongue. It killed me that the story made sense. I gave Lana a reassuring shoulder squeeze and tipped my head. “I get what you’re saying. I really do. And I promise you that I’ll tell you everything I know when I have the full story.”

She sniffled quietly and threw her arms around me. “Okay.” came the voice muffled against my shoulder.

“Good. Can you make me a promise?” Assuming her silence means yes, I continued on. “Can you not tell anyone about Spooky, at least for now? I want to get the full story.”

A couple more minutes of sniffling and the small arms pulled away from me. “Just be careful with him.” She mumbled before making her way out the bathroom door.

I stared at the mirror with exhaustion. Moving here was supposed to be a new start, a chance to truly set myself up for success. Even with all the extra baggage that comes with living in a town like Freeridge. Trying to keep my nose out of the Santos business was my goal but it looks like I’m gonna need to make an exception for Paco.

#spooky x reader #oscar diaz #cesar diaz #on my block #angst #santos #East LA #fanfiction

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iratetourist · 2 years

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then there were two // eddie munson x reader

summary: wayne munson had some thoughts about his nephew’s relationship with one miss cheerleader

pairing: eddie munson x fem!reader

word count: short (written on phone)

warnings: it’s all fluff, luv xoxo

author’s note: thought it would be fun to do something a little different by having it from his uncle’s pov, plus i like the wonky formatting of this fic. also kind of? semi-connected to my previous fic after school only, the events mentioned here coincide with the ones there!!

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Wayne Munson had never seen his nephew so smitten.

Of course, Eddie had had light infatuations and some brief involvement with girls before, but never to this degree.

It had started with Eddie mentioning you passively as “the poor cheerleader enlisted with helping him not fail biology” - he said you’d last two sessions, maybe three, before getting fed up with him and quitting. He was sure of it, almost took pride in how easily he wrote both himself and you off.

But every Tuesday and Thursday for a month and a half, Wayne found Eddie trudging back into their trailer, muttering about how you were a hard-ass who somehow was not only able to put up with him, but was actually patient enough to take the time to explain the subject to him, and he couldn’t help but laugh at Eddie’s shock at the fact. Eddie wasn’t going to get to weasel out of it this time, not with you to keep him to task.

Sometimes Eddie was frustrated with your lack of giving up on him, how you made him read textbooks and do homework and even gave him practice assignments - “I mean, c’mon, right - I’ve basically already failed out and she wants to give me more work!?” - but when that next test came and passed and Eddie swept home with a grin and a “That’s a B, baby!”, Wayne knew Eddie was grateful, and he was himself, too.

Wayne thought the arrangement might fizzle out naturally soon after that, but apparently it maintained itself, evident in how Eddie talked about you constantly, always an edge of fondness in his tone, how he seemed to be spending more and more time with you.

“Yeah, she’s actually interested in D&D, I was thinking about bringing some of my books with me next time we meet up. Think she’d wanna try a session with Hellfire…? Nah…”

“Y/N was telling me about some of the team drama - Jesus, I knew cheerleaders could be vicious, but this is next-level—“

“Oh, that cassette? I let Y/N borrow it, girl can headbang like there’s no tomorrow, it’s hilarious but also kind of impressive.”

“This woman will be the end of me - she listens to nothing but ABBA. Do you know how many times I’ve heard ‘Mamma Mia’ in the past week? She’s lucky she’s cute…”

“You’d think she’d lighten up considering I passed that test, but if anything, she’s gotten more aggressive about it. She could run a studying boot camp, that one.”

It was all casually relayed, over breakfast or as Eddie flew out the door, but Wayne knew better - his nephew had a crush, hell, maybe more was already going on, and he was allowing just the littlest hints of it to shine through to the one person he knew would always listen.

It was natural to be happy for him, brimming with it and a little joke whenever Eddie lit up with an unfaltering smile as he spoke about you, but concern was there, too, curiosity over the whole situation. He had seen his nephew get too invested before, in all manner of things, only to be shut down harshly or mocked incessantly. He had watched that bright, open little boy grow up into a jaded, guarded young man, quietly terrified to trust, to reach out.

And you were a cheerleader, a part of the popular crowd filled with people who had ridiculed his nephew for years. Who was to say you wouldn’t join in? Would you ignore Eddie, stringing him along only when convenient? Would you be ashamed of being seen with him?

There was fear that it would backfire on Eddie, and that he’d be all the worse for it - after all, there seemed to be a reason Eddie refused to bring your around, why you two apparently never hung out outside of those extremely specific after school hours. Whether it was his nephew’s insecurity or your potential reluctance, he didn’t know. Wayne wanted to give you the benefit of the doubt, take Eddie at his word for how great you were, but he couldn’t quite shake that protective shield, not until - if - more came to pass.

One day, Eddie came home talking about a basketball game - you had invited him to come watch you cheer, and he had actually agreed. Suffice to say, Wayne was suitably flabbergasted.

“Now am I hearing this right, Eddie Munson - you, self-proclaimed detester of damn near any and all sport, are going to go to a basketball game tonight? …Who are you, and what have you done with my nephew?”

Eddie had just given him a look before taking off to his room, and Wayne knew better than to pry, but the worry was too much.

“Eddie.”

A head popped outside his door. “Yeah?”

“Is this thing with her serious?” No nonsense, straight to the point, that was Wayne, though a clear paternal concern underscored the question, residual and never-ending despite the fact Eddie was very much so an adult.

Eddie’s face had fallen, vulnerability melting into his expression, before he replied simply, earnestly, “…Yeah. At least, I want it to be.” He knew what his Uncle Wayne was asking, really, truly - is she going to hurt you?

And Wayne knew he had to let it all fall as it would, couldn’t interfere like he had when Eddie was younger. The idea that one day he would walk into his trailer to find a bitter, broken Eddie scared him, but who was he to know if you were the real deal?

Only time would tell...

…Quite quickly in fact, because Eddie returned from that game with a grin the size of Indiana on his face and his hand held in a girl’s - yours. Eddie seemed surprised by his uncle’s presence - shift changed, weeknight freed - and very obviously had been expecting a conveniently-parental-figure-free trailer judging by the bewildered expression he gave when he realized his uncle was there.

“Jesus Christ— why the hell are you skulking around in the goddamn dark? I-I thought you were working tonight, and—“

“Nope, supervisor put Sam on to train the new kid tonight.” Wayne knew perfectly well what his nephew thought - and intended.

“Oh.”

“And this must be…?” You were stood half-behind Eddie, a nervous smile on your face.

“I… this is Y/N, my…” Eddie was nearly blushing, of all things, his gaze tender and smile wide as he turned to you.

“His girlfriend,” you finished, returning the look, the adoration.

Wayne couldn’t help his own smile at that, relief flooding him as his whole being shifted into a new gear - now, he got to have fun with it, at least to some extent. “Well, Y/N, good to meet ya! Glad to finally put a face to the name - I’ve heard a lot about you; Eddie doesn’t talk about anything or anyone else.”

“Uncle Wayne—“

Nope, no way Eddie was circumventing the essential parental (figure) teasing phase, especially considering you were the first, and hopefully only, girlfriend he had ever had, let alone brought home.

“You have? Well, now, that’s interesting…” You gave Eddie a look that had him groaning, flush deepening and eyes rolling, but that smile remained all the same.

You became a regular, welcome fixture in the home after that, as days flew by and weeks passed and turned to months. Wayne wasn’t a fool - he made sure to give you and Eddie ample space and time alone - but half the time it was more innocent that, how you stayed over for dinner, how Eddie was always playing his guitar for you, how you were there in the mornings to go over D&D with Eddie, eager to attend Hellfire, and were never not blasting and singing along to ‘Waterloo’ from his room, Eddie content to simply, affectionately listen, watch, smile.

It was little conversations overheard—

“Y/N, that was so badass, but you didn’t have to—“

“They don’t get to talk shit and go after you, Eddie, and get away with it like it’s nothing! Maybe Jason and his mob of… goons will think twice about harassing you now.”

“Goons? Really?”

“You are literally twelve years old.”

“…”

“You’re the one who has to deal with them more often than I do, you know… I don’t want them going after you because of me.”

“Fuck them. I couldn’t care less what they think about me or you or us, and if it takes me having to slap Jason Carver to hell and back every day for the rest of the school year to get them to leave us alone, well… it’ll be worth it.”

“…Thanks, sweetheart.”

Or…

“Sweetheart, I will have you know, spaghettios are a time-honoured Munson favourite, and—“

“Eddie, I’m not really sure how you haven’t developed scurvy yet. But… yeah, I’ll admit, they’re not too bad. ‘Specially if you’re stoned.”

“Truly, a woman after my own heart!”

“Okay, will you just try the damned baked ziti already?”

“…Heh, baked ziti…”

“EDDIE—“

Wayne’s favourite of which was the infamous ABBA incident…

“TONIGHT THE SUPER TROUPER LIGHTS ARE GONNA FIND ME~”

“What the… Eddie? Holy fuck - I wish I had a camcorder right now, I just— Jesus.”

“Y/N! …You speak a word of this to anyone, I swear to God—“

“Okay, babe, we can stop with the posturing, you liiiiike~ ABBA… so why don’t you come over here and ‘Lay All Your Love on Me’?”

“That… can be arranged.”

“Mm, that’s what I thought.”

It was walking in after a long shift to find you and Eddie cuddled together on the recliner, sprawled back and snoring away while the TV flashed some forgotten-about movie. With a smile and a shake of his head, Wayne had covered you both with a blanket and switched off the television before retreating to his room, warm reassurance in his chest.

It was Eddie coming up to him in the kitchen on a random Monday morning, and whispering, “I think I love her… like, in love love.”

“I reckon you do.”

“Do you think she—?”

“Only one way to find out, son.”

It was the way Eddie left for school that morning with a worried crease to his brow and a frown on his face, and came back beaming, you just the same, right next to him, your hands held tightly intertwined.

It was the way Wayne knew there was now another person who loved Eddie Munson just the way he deserved to be.

——————————

It was early, early morning, and Wayne had just gotten back from yet another shift. Propped against the fridge, he finished what he had been eating and tossed the wrapper in the trash unceremoniously, entirely ready to crash into bed.

“Oh, Mr. Munson, you’re back!”

Wayne jumped back a bit in surprise as you whispered and ducked around the corner, face cast with odd shadows from the dull light of the fluorescents.

“Sorry about that, just getting some water.”

You yawned and padded past him, retrieving a glass from the cupboard and filling it quickly. The kitchen was quiet as you took a long sip, and you looked to be thinking to yourself before you reached up and got another cup, refilling your own and the new one before making your way back to where you had inevitably come from, Eddie’s faint snores heard just down the hall.

“Good night, Mr. Munson.”

“Hey, Mr. Munson was my father, I’m Wayne to you, you know that. You’re practically family at this point, no need to still be so formal.” You’d become like a daughter to the man over the past year, and he wanted you to know that.

“I… of course. Thanks, Wayne.”

“…Y/N?”

“Yes?”

“Please, don’t break his heart.”

“I could never.”

#eddie munson x reader #eddie munson #eddie munson x you #eddie munson reader insert #stranger things #my fics

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