#3884

[honjitsuno1mai]

#3884 ＠ 神奈川県横浜市西区南幸

[vanillastopbath]

3884 Chicago, IL 08/19/2024

[wulfhalls]

https://x.com/FilmUpdates/status/1838292613553885322?t=8AUMG0vyxFAI-18X_Xqwzg&s=19

WHAT

I'm actually killing myself. goodbye. this is the worst thing that's ever happened to me. constantine XI palaiologos last emperor of byzantine could not have felt worse seeing the roman empire crumble to dust under his rule than i do now seeing this headline

[rachiecrown]

Rachie Crown back at it again writing something she thought would only be about a hundred words but it turned out to be much longer than she expected uh

Anyways 3L Desert Duo!! But I swapped them! So now Scar is the winner of 3L!

TWs; major character death, graphic depictions of violence, blood, it's the life series what do you want from me

3,884 words

------=+=------

"SCAR NO-!!"

[Grian was blown up by Creeper]

Gasps and shouts sounded out around the group and Scar turned, staring at the crater the creeper explosion had left. Brown feathers floated down and touched dirt, items spilled everywhere. Scar's eyes followed how a particularly round stick rolled to a stop at the bottom of the crater, where Grian was just a second ago.

"Did he really just-!?" Tango started, which Martyn continued with, "He blew himself up!!" Seven different communicators pinged rapidly with messages from the other players, who all saw the death message in the chat.

The realization of what had just happened hit Scar. A creeper had been behind him, and he hadn't even heard the hiss. Grian, who looked so smug in the corner of his eye just a moment ago, had sacrificed one of his precious lives just to tackle a creeper away from Scar. He felt a shaky breath exit his lungs.

The shocked conversation from the other six left Scar's ears as he walked towards the crater, sliding down into it cautiously and gathering Grian's items in his arms. From what he knew, Grian only had two lives left, and since he assumedly didn't have a respawn point, he would be back where everyone else started, surrounded by poppies and lilacs and all other kinds of flowers.

"I need to go see Grian." Scar said, looking up as BDubs and Etho looked into the crater. Scar climbed out onto the grass and took off towards the center of the arena, as fast as his braced legs would let him. To think Grian of all people would be the first yellow on the server.. Scar wasn't sure if anyone was betting on that.

By the time spawn was in sight, Grian was visible sitting heavily against an oak tree, hugging his half-decimated sweater to his chest with his tattered wings wrapped around himself. There were markings on him, which Scar quickly realized were healed over scars left by the explosion, which covered from the top of Grian's head all the way down to his lower stomach on his right side.

Scar slowed his approach and walked the rest of the few dozen blocks to Grian, kneeling next to him. He placed Grian's items down, pushing Grian's wings back and taking his sweater from his hands, shifting it and moving it over his left side. Scar tied the sleeves together in a makeshift poncho.

Grian breathed shakily. Scar could see the shock still present in the avian's now dark yellow and pale blue eyes. Scar didn't know that eye color changed according to the amount of lives someone had. Grian's eyes flicked up to meet Scar's, lowering his hands. Scar noticed how his right eye seemed out of focus, the pupil faded to a dark and cloudy grey.

"Scar, I- I'm so sorry, Scar-" Grian breathed as his senses came back into focus. Scar furrowed his eyebrows. "What are you apologizing for? It's you who got blown up, Gri-" "No, no!" Grian interrupted, frustration leaking into his tone. "It's my own fault for getting blown up, I led the creeper to everyone trying to play a prank like Martyn with his soundboard and-"

It was Grian's turn to be interrupted as Scar held up his hand. "Grian, it's okay- well, no, it's not okay because you just lost a life, but you sacrificed yourself for me, and-" Scar put his hand down and glanced to the side. "You saved my life."

Grian stared blankly, his mouth opened ever so slightly. The avian brought his hands up in front of him almost defensively, his own expression hardening. "Well I-" Scar grabbed Grian's right hand in both of his, squeezing it reassuringly. "And that's why I'm dedicating my first life to you!" He declared. Grian's eyes widened.

"No, no, Scar, I didn't-"

"Let's team together! Come on, let's go to the desert and get a monopoly on cactuses and sand!" Scar pulled Grian to his feet.

"It's cacti, Scar,"

"We'll be so rich, Grian! People want sand and cactus, right?"

And so, Grian found himself on the back of a llama, as insisted by Scar for Grian to not walk, heading towards the desert where sand would surely become a problem for his already damaged wings. Grian couldn't bring himself to protest much against Scar's enthusiasm in his dizzy and revived state. In fact, he knew deep down that by the time he would come to his senses, it would be far too late to leave the desert.

------=+=------

"I'm all for science and discovery! We are the science bros!" Scar sang as he walked behind Grian. The two looked at each other, and Scar saw some sort of strained happiness in Grian's eyes, as the avian didn't pay attention to what was in front of him.

"Science and discov-" Scar cut himself off right as Grian slipped, a scream escaping the blonde's lips.

"GRIAN!!"

Scar covered his mouth as the death message flooded his vision.

[Grian fell from a high place]

Scar had to sit down for a moment, his legs giving out beneath him as his communicator pinged rapidly. Neither of the two had seen the ravine in front of them, the ravine that they both knew was there. Scar should have been able to grab him, pull him back up onto the sand, and tell him it was okay, because Scar had him, but Grian slipped a bit too quickly, too far out of Scar's reach.

Shakily, Scar moved himself far enough to look over the edge, adrenaline on the deadly drop beneath him fueling his veins. Items were spilled on the ground. Items and feathers and a lot of blood. Scar felt sick.

Grian was the first red life in the arena, and Grian was allied with Scar. From what he understood, red lives were supposed to be hostile, nervous things, with a lot of pent up frustration that made them willing to do nearly anything to make sure they weren't taken out. All ties and relationships were broken the instant someone reached their last life.

Scar regained the ability to move, carefully making his way down into the ravine. He reached down and gathered Grian's items for the second time, then brought himself back up to the sandy surface. Scar wondered if Grian would be coming back to him, back to their home in the desert, or if he'd stay away.

A hint of red caught Scar's eye, and he turned as Grian emerged from the tree line just a biome over, a large bouquet of lilacs and poppies in his arms. Scar ran to greet Grian, dropping items out of his arms as the damaged avian walked slowly, painfully, into the sand.

The two met and Scar nearly hugged Grian, only to realize how that might not be the best thing to do to someone who just respawned on their last life. Instead, he took in how Grian's appearance had changed.

His yellow eye had turned a deep red, and his blue eye was nearly grey. The pupil seemed fully clouded over, which indicated Grian's sight was fully taken out of that eye. Scar swore those white streaks weren't in Grian's hair a few minutes ago, and not to mention how pale the avian looked. Scar settled his hand on Grian's upper arm.

"Scar, can.." Grian spoke, avoiding eye contact. Grian knew the rules of the arena better than Scar did, and he also knew, better than Scar did, that he had nowhere else to go. Grian pushed the flowers forward against Scar's chest. Scar took them. "Can we still be friends?"

Scar felt his heart sink into his stomach because he knew he couldn't refuse Grian, standing there on his last life with desperation in his lowered eyes. Scar wrapped both arms around the bouquet. "I still owe my first life to you, Grian, as much as you try to deny that. You can't change my mind." Scar settled on saying.

Can't, or won't?

Grian's wings refolded behind him, still horribly singed from his first death. Scar would never know the relief that flooded through Grian, the heavy weight of anxiety lifting slightly off his heart. Grian stepped forward and around Scar, finding that it was still hard to meet his emerald green eyes. He gathered his items and put them back in their proper places.

"Stop staring." Grian almost spat. "Please." He then added in a softer tone. He felt Scar's gaze tear away from his back. Embarrassment hung over Grian's shoulders, since both times, losing his lives were his own fault and not someone else's. It was Grian who knocked the creeper away from Scar, he knew it was there, he led it there. It was Grian who slipped into the ravine, not someone who pushed him.

The avian gave a heavy sigh and just decided to be grateful that it wasn't his last life he lost.

The thought of when that last life would expire, though, weighed heavily on both their minds.

------=+=------

[GoodTimeWithScar was shot by InTheLittleWood]

Scar wasn't sure how Grian dealt with the pain. The avian always seemed so stone faced regarding physical feelings, and his two deaths were very obviously painful ones, so as Scar sat up in his bed with a horrible pain from an arrow that struck between his shoulder blades just seconds ago, effectively taking his first life, he wondered how Grian's own body felt.

He swung his legs onto the floor and grabbed a large stick - the closest thing to a cane he could get his hands on - and forced himself to stand. Turns out leg braces didn't stick around for respawn, unfortunately enough.

Scar checked his communicator, worried about Grian. He thought, what if Grian was shot instead of Scar? Scar would still be on all three of his lives and Grian would've been gone, just like that.

After scrolling through his communicator for a few minutes while slowly walking out of the small respawn box Grian made for him, he found no death messages regarding his partner in crime.. But they had lost Jimmy, who was just previously on his red life. He pulled himself up a ladder and trudged slowly across the sand, kneeling down and dropping lightly into the trench dug around a base of operations Grian had made.

He gathered his items from the water, grateful to find his leg braces did in fact not get terribly damaged. Scar sat in the water and pulled the braces on, strapping the velcro shut over his boots and pants. He pulled his armor back on and put his items away, finding it more bearable to stand now.

Scar pulled himself out of the ditch and was greeted with Scott, who kneeled and helped Scar up. "What happened, it all went horribly, horribly wrong!" Scott exclaimed. Scar paced to the edge of the explosion radius. "The explosion worked.." Scar mumbled, Scott agreeing with, "The explosion went off, but it didn't kill anyone."

Scar walked down into the trench. "And Jimmy.." He looked back to the base for a moment as Scott followed him. "He's dead!" Scott crossed his arms with an upset shrug. Scar could see the tears in his eyes, and knew that he'd be in a worse state if it were Grian who had been killed instead.

"I know that Grian's somehow still alive, no messages said he died." Scar stated, climbing out of the crater. Distantly, it reminded him of Grian's first death. "Did they take him prisoner?" Scott wondered. Scar shook his head. "Dunno, but I want to know what happened to him."

It was when Scott and Scar were in the forest that Grian ran up to greet them, his wings spread behind him and bouncing with each step. Scar put his hands out and placed them on Grian's upper arms at they met.

"Where were you? I've been across the arena at least a hundred times by now!" Grian exaggerated, one of his own hands grabbing Scar's wrist. Scar noticed Martyn not too far behind Grian, shouting something about his banner that Scar had stolen. Grian's feathers ruffled in discomfort as he turned and glared at Martyn.

A few minutes later Scar finally handed over the banner, which Martyn promptly snatched up and ran with, however, Grian, shouting something about revenge, dashed after the green life with murderous intent and his sword raised. Scar only followed after.

It was after Martyn lost his first life to a skeleton that Grian finally decided to calm down. His angered expression turned to a manic joy and back to a still neutrality. Scar took Grian's arm as they discussed their next move with Scott, then the three ran as some members of Dogwarts followed behind.

Grian glanced up at Scar for just a second as they went to BigB's base, noticing how his eyes had turned from their emerald green to a golden yellow.

------=+=------

"Whoever gets the no kill pass, I don't kill." Scar said, balling up and throwing a piece of paper. Immediately, manic bloodlust took over both BDubs and Grian's eyes, the two scrambling for the crumpled white sheet. Scar watched apathetically as they clambered over each other in desperation, throwing punches and pushing and kicking with feathers flying every which way.

BDubs was first to grab the paper, screaming, "I'VE GOT IT!" and slowly, Scar turned towards Grian, who suddenly looked a lot more pale than he was a minute ago. BDubs whipped out his bow and fired as Scar raised his sword. Grian dodged and dashed.

The sword in Scar's hands was ripped out violently, and a searing pain erupted in his side. He was jerked left and an arrow went flying right into his chest, everything going black instantly.

[GoodTimeWithScar was shot by BDoubleO100]

Scar sat up in bed instantly and grabbed for the spare leg braces he brought into the respawn box. He pulled them on and scrambled for armor with adrenaline fueling his veins.

[BDoubleO100 was slain by Grian]

Scar dashed down the hall and climbed the ladder. His boots were already filling with sand as he sheathed a sword and ran across the desert as fast as his braced legs would let him. He dashed around the cacti wall and into the forest, pausing and crouching down when he reached Grian's location.

Heavy breaths shook their way out of Scar's mouth. Grian stood with Scar's bloodstained sword over a pile of items and clocks and so much blood, his wings spread wide and enchantments smoking off his armor. Scar pulled his sword out, stepping forward, and Grian was on him in an instant. Swords clashed and Grian screamed.

"BETRAYER, TRAITOR SCAR!! HOW COULD YOU!? AFTER EVERYTHING!?"

Scar tripped over Grian's foot and landed in the small pond next to them. Grian leaped in as Scar swam back. Both splashed around wildly with Grian's red eye locked onto Scar's own now ruby red ones with hatred and fury. Grian swung and Scar's sword was knocked out of his hands. Grian dropped the sword and grabbed Scar around the neck, submerging him in water.

In the sudden silence of water filling his ears and the sensation of Grian's talons tight around his neck, Scar's thoughts became clear. Bubbles escaped his lips and his hand found his discarded sword.

Scar had really just left Grian's life up to a piece of paper. He had just shown Grian that he meant absolutely nothing, which wasn't true. Grian meant everything, and in a moment of pure stupidity and thoughtlessness that Scar wasn't sure was his own, that was thrown out the window.

Scar jerked Grian's right hand away from his neck, shoving the hilt of the sword into violent muscle. Scar shoved himself up as soon as Grian faltered and gasped for air, coughing his lungs out and struggling to find his breath.

Grian raised the sword, pausing when Scar bowed his head. "You can kill me." Scar told him.

No hit followed the spoken words. Scar lifted his head at the sound of eating, seeing Grian stare down at the water with folded wings as he basically shoved some food from his bag down his throat. Scar tried to make eye contact as the sword dropped from Grian's hands.

"No." Grian said after he swallowed.

"For staying with me all this time, being so loyal after you were the first red on the server, you may slay me and take the enchanter." Scar offered. Grian moved back. "I can't, I literally can't. I don't want to." The avian's voice was small.

Whispers came from the wind. "Fight, no armor, no weapons, fight, kill, blood." Hushed voices from ghosts of other contestants circled around the two, invading their ears and minds. Scar watched Grian's angry eyes soften with tears spilling down his cheeks. It was then that he realized he's never seen Grian cry before.

"Can't we win together? Scar- Can we win together?" He choked out. Scar glanced around, pulling planks from BDubs' spilled inventory into the water. He took Grian's arm and pulled him up to the makeshift raft, and a confused laugh escaped Grian's lips. "Scar, Scar why- what-"

Scar sat on the planks and started scooping water with his hands, rowing them clumsily around he pond. "Why are we in a boat in a pond!?" Grian shouted. Scar felt the raft rock, and they both fell off into the water again.

He grabbed his avian friend and pulled him up by the arm, both taking heavy breaths from the sudden cut of oxygen the water so generously supplied. Scar rested his hand on Grian's upper arm, which Grian covered with his hand.

The whispers were so loud, like heavy winds from a terrible storm that began to fog Grian and Scar's minds. "Scar, we have to. We have to." Grian said, and the angry whispers quieted. Scar felt his heart in his stomach because he knew from the beginning that there would only be one winner, but he had no idea he would be going against Grian.

------=+=------

"Scar, no matter what happens, I think we can claim this as a double victory, right?"

"Yes, yes." Scar quickly agreed as he threw items into the fire and cacti behind him. Grian raised his fists, laughing each time Scar showed off something from Dogwarts before letting it burn away in the orange flames, much to some of the ghosts dismay.

"Okay, I'm ready. That's it." Scar turned back to Grian, raising his own fists. Grian gave a weak smile that Scar didn't think looked very good on him. "Let's let the ghosts count us in then."

Chants filled the wind, their ears, their minds. Scar tried to remind himself that they were contestants in an arena. "Three," Scar felt a chill go down his spine. "Two," Grian's voice joined the chant. "One."

The two ran at each other, fists colliding with flesh. Scar turned and fell back into a cactus. "Oh, Grian, it hurts! It hurts so much!" Scar gasped. A fake laugh spilled from Grian's lips, which Scar copied, grimacing as he felt Grian's nose crack under his knuckles.

"Scar, Scar!" Grian shouted in a high tone. Scar copied the tone, and if he closed his eyes for a second, and ignored the pain, he could almost imagine him and Grian in a domestic setting, laughing about their day or something the other had done. "It's not even funny, Scar!" Grian laughed out, as if Scar was the one who was laughing instead.

"Grian, it hurts!" "I'm so sorry Scar!" "I'm sorry too-"

Scar cut himself short after he delivered an especially hard blow to Grian. The avian crumpled into the sand beneath him with dying laughter on his lips. Scar knew he could never pull his heart out of his stomach as he fell to his knees, the death message flashing in his eyes.

[Grian was slain by GoodTimeWithScar]

Scar fell on Grian's body and wept.

"Grian, no, no.." he whispered. The ghosts' chants were even louder now, screaming "one final life! Take it! One final life!" Scar shook his head and gathered Grian's body in his arms, shaking and sobbing and holding him to his chest and-

"SHUT UP!! SHUT UP YOU STUPID GHOSTS!" Scar screamed. His own voice shocked him, the anger fueling it so different from his usual yells and shouts. The wind went quiet with impatience, but Scar couldn't bring himself to care. He lowered his head into dirty blond hair, watching with one eye open as the color faded away into white.

"I'm so sorry, Grian, I'm sorry, I'm sorry.." He brushed Grian's hair out of his face solemnly, resuming his mourning. He knew Grian wanted to win. He thought Grian was going to win, because Grian was so strong and smart and better than Scar. Grian should've won.

"It's time to go home, Scar." The wind whispered gently. Scar sat upright. Grian laid still. With stifled sobs, Scar stood and carried Grian to the edge of their mountain, where a grave to Scar's llama laid. Scar knelt and laid Grian stomach down. He knew from their time in the desert that the avian never liked to sleep on his back.

With ghosts watching, Scar's hand lingered on Grian's upper arm for just a moment longer before he walked to the edge of the mountain, a cliff dropoff just centimeters beyond his foot. Adrenaline spiked in his bloodstream, and he almost backed off, but he raised his head and spread his arms, knowing that this was the only way out of the arena.

"I don't.. I don't feel good." Scar smiled to the sky. His foot slipped forward, and he fell down, down, down.

[GoodTimeWithScar fell from a fight place]

------=+=------

Grian and Scar stood face to face in the white void between worlds. Scar couldn't see Grian's face, but he knew all too well that Grian's dark eyes were boring holes through him.

It was too bright to see any color, only Grian's silhouette visible to Scar's eyes, yet Scar could tell Grian's body had healed from the horrors of the arena.

Grian spread his wings and walked forward. Scar met him in the middle. He reached and placed his hand on the avian's upper arm.

"No one else will remember this, the arena." Grian's voice echoed. "No one but us."

"Is it because we were the last two?" Scar asked. Grian hummed. "You could say that." Then Grian did something Scar wasn't expecting, as he moved Scar's hand off his arm.

Grian embraced Scar.

Warmth blossomed between the two as Scar wrapped his own arms around Grian with closing eyes, and distantly, he realized he had never felt a hug from Grian before. Grian pressed further. "I'm so sorry you had to win, Scar." He whispered, and honestly, Scar believed he could live with the memories, as long as he went where Grian did.

"Are you ready to go home?" The avian asked. Scar nodded and pressed his face into Grian's hair. "I'm ready." He said.

Scar knew deep down that it was far too late to leave the desert.

[Grian left the game]

[GoodTimeWithScar left the game]

------=+=------

---

GGRGGRHRRGGAGGSHHSGDHGRAAAAA <-sound of Desert Duo fans going insane (it's me I'm Desert Duo fans)

Genuinely I did not think I would spawn 3k words out of nowhere I thought this was gonna be a short ten or so paragraphs of explanation but I just wrote instead and now I'm in so much emotional pain

Heeheehoo :3 (<- thousands dead, millions more injured)

[no-ditches-no-bitches]

:(

“Yeah, I Hope you frown. I Hope you CRY!!!”

HE DIDNT MEAN IT I SWEAR-

[damnfandomproblems]

people who participate in the ff7 love triangle debate on twitter are really, really annoying. but people who throw shade at them are almost equally as obnoxious to me. like why dont you just have them blocked lmao instead of giving them attention every other month

[bobbie-robron]

Although I’m not sure Edna would appreciate the competition. She might turn you into a frog.

Two brief scenes to close out October of that year with Victoria not a happy girl with Robert because he wouldn’t let her go trick or treating until Katie offers to go with her making her up as a witch (giving Edna competition). Robert also asks Katie to help him out since Jack & Diane are in Las Vegas. Well, that’s fine and dandy until Andy shows up and Victoria gets into another snit since Robert won’t allow her to spend time with him so forget Halloween.

31-Oct-2004

[kuccigang]

RELAPSED

RELAPSED

RELASPED

RELASPED

[deepestnightcolor]

☾ ᴅʀᴜɴᴋᴇɴ ɴɪɢʜᴛꜱ ☽

ᴀ/ɴ: I am already back with a new fic for Sam. I am in a groupchat with some amazing people and I decided to write some ideas out that were thrown around. I hope you enjoy! Maybe I will do Alex or Elliott next... Anyway, thank you so much for your time! ✧

ᴘᴀɪʀɪɴɢ: Sam (SDV) x Fem!Reader

ᴡᴄ: 3884 words.

ᴍᴅɴɪ ✧ ᴡᴀʀɴɪɴɢꜱ: alcohol consumption, drunk sex, doggy style, cursing, unportected sex, drooling, exhibitionism, public setting, teasing, creampie, hornyness all around.

Sam’s mouth was watering, and the sole reason for it was you. Sam had fallen in love with you the moment you had stepped foot into Pelican Town yet had never managed to utter a single word about it. But now, the blonde was absolutely hammered, and that allowed him to shamelessly stare at you. Pupils blown, chest heaving and falling quickly, his eyes were focused on your ass while you were bent over the pool table, focused on your next shot in your game with Sebastian. The only thing that kept him from dropping on his knees and begging to be allowed to suck on those slender fingers wrapping around the cue was the fact that he still wasn’t sure if you liked him back.

When you wiggled your butt a little, a small groan passed his lips. It was desperate, and rough, making the attention of the room fall on him. “Are you okay, Sam?” You asked, worry in your voice. “Yeah…yeah…Yeah, ‘m fine… just gonn…you need help, dontcha? Winnin’ against Seb, I mean,” he slurred, pushing himself up on his legs, steadying himself using the pool table. Sebastian cocked his pierced brow; Sam sucked at pool when he wasn’t drunk, and now he was absolutely shitfaced. What help could he be?

Sam placed himself right behind you, pressing his crotch against you a bit, hoping – no, praying – that you didn’t catch on that he only did that to feel you against his growing buldge.

Though you were a smart girl. The feeling of his erection didn’t go unnoticed, but you kept up your pokerface. “I guess I could use a little help,” you murmured, voice coated in innocence. You leaned forward, smiling up at the oblivious Sebastian. “Sorry, I told you I haven’t played in ages,” you explained, directing the black-haired man’s attention back to the game. He shrugged nonchalantly, waving off your comment and watching you adjust the cue, but Sam had seemingly become hyper focused. He leaned over you, shaking hand gripping your wrist. He was so close, so close to you. He could smell you and feel you. If his mouth was watering before, now it was drooling. He had dreamed of this so often, having you bent over under him, and now he had, and you didn’t even notice his ulterior motives.

A thought that was disproved when he felt it. You pressed your ass against him, circling your hips just ever so slightly to cause friction. An accident? Sam didn’t care. The whine that slipped couldn’t be caught anymore; the despair obvious. The need to beg for you to at least let him feel you for one night, even just a single hour, maybe just put the tip in you if that was all you wanted to give, hanging onto his tongue by a thread. The only thing that kept him from speaking was a pair of attentive eyes that were placed on him.

“‘S…’s a bad position,“ Sam slurred in a weak attempt to explain himself, but he didn’t even really care. He cared about you, boxed in-between his wobbly arms. He could lean down, kiss your neck, suck on it. Leave his wet marks all over you – and who would stop him? “He’s right,” you mused, shifting yet again. This time you rubbed your ass from side to side as if to figure out how to stand, making sure to add pressure against his dick. Sam was creaming in his pants by now, his knees wobbling as he lowered his head. He licked his lips, hot breath hitting your neck.  The goosebumps that appeared made him want to drool all over you, but still, he cleared his throat and guided you into a sloppy shot. Trying to stay strong, not to make it too obvious. But fuck, your gentle grinding into his cock, the way you pressed into him – he swore his cock was about to burst right then and there for you, and if you kept it up, he’d cum in his pants in the saloon.

“Damn, Sam. You wanted to help her win, not make her lose. Maybe you should step back,” Sebastian grunted, an obvious edge to his voice, yet he would have never expected his best friend to actually growl at him in return. That was the only way the sound that radiated through the blonde’s chest could be described; it was deep and rough, almost threatening. Possessive, even.

While it shocked the other man, it sent a shock straight through your whole body. It was enough for you to put your cue away and stand up straight, giving Sebastian a small smile. “I think it’s time we get Sammy boy here to sleep.”

„Ugh, drunk like that? It’s best he sleeps on the couch here, Jodi’s gonna flip otherwise… and I doubt I can drag his drunk ass up the mountain.”

Perfect.

“I’ll take him to the farm, then. Until our ways part we are about halfway there, you can help me drag him.”

Sebastian sighed dramatically, but put the cue away, which probably signalled his agreement, or at least you decided to take it as such.

Both of you draped one of Sam’s arms over your shoulders and made the strenuous way up to your farm, Sebastian stubbornly staring ahead, while Sam was slumped between you. His cheeks were red, but the way you looked at him made him wheeze. The look that he gave you, so lustful and horny, eyes drowning in need, made your legs buckle every now and then, straining a grunt from Sebastian that now had to basically drag two whenever you did. “You sure you want him on your farm? I can stay over-“

“No,“ you interrupted, flashing him a quick, reassuring smile. “You’ve got to work with Robin tomorrow, and she will freak out if you’re not there. Besides, I have a guard dog, and if this fella acts up, he’ll be sent to the doghouse.”

Sebastian smiled a little and nodded, the thought of Sam sleeping in a small hut clearly bemusing him. Smacking his friend on the back, which almost sent the poor boy tumbling over, Sebastian turned. „Behave, you hear? Or I gotta whoop your ass.” With that and a wave, he began to make his way home.

“So…,” you began when Sebastian’s silhouette had blended into the deep night, looking at the blonde hanging onto your shoulder. “What was all that about?”

“All…hicc… what about?”

“In the bar. You drooled on my neck.”  

Sam giggled at that, tilting his head back as his laugh became deeper. “Yea…that-…that probably was ‚cause I really fuckin‘ love you…an‘…an‘ cum in my fist every night thinkin‘ of fuckin…fucking you.”

If that wasn’t drunken honesty, you didn’t know what else would be. “But  I didn’t know hoooow to tell youuuu. So, don’t tell on me, m’kay? Don’t want ya to..hate me, ya know.”

Chuckling quietly, you pushed a strand of hair out of his, face, dragging your lower lip between your teeth. “You know who you’re talking to, right”

“Mh..course. My little farmer princess.”

“And you know what I did to you in the bar?”

“Mhhhhm. Was so close to cummin‘. Still…still am.”

“Do you know what could mean, Sam?”

“That… you suck even more at pool than me?”

You snorted, head tipping back as you laughed. Yoba, he wanted to lick down your throat, down your body, devour your cunt. He wanted to taste you so, so bad. He could have bet that you had the prettiest pussy he would ever lay eyes on, and he would make sure to worship it. With slow licks, the fast ones, by spelling his name on your clit and with your legs over his shoulder so he could get into as much contact as possible.

“No, Sam. I’m into you. I have been for a while. Didn’t you ever notice me flirting? Not even when I told you you should show me what else those fingers can do than play guitar.”

Silence.

You could literally see the corks in Sam’s head reeling, trying to connect the dots of the information that had just been relied to him. “So…ya…like me back?”

You rolled your eyes, deciding that in this state, only actions seemed to count for Sam. Words took too long to process. You leaned down to kiss the man deeply - an opportunity he leaped at. His tongue immediately dragged over your lips, coating them with the taste of alcohol. The moan that left you was to his advantage, he shoved his tongue into your mouth clumsily, letting it run over yours, licking at it as if he was starving. His hands had found your body for support to stop himself from swaying back and forth. “Need ya…need ya so bad. This kay?“ He slurred against your mouth, pretty blue eyes staring at you, begging you without words.

You bit your lip and tried to steady Sam again, “Come on, let’s get to the farm, we can…we can-„ Sam’s mouth hit yours again, his teeth sinking into your lips gently. You moaned again, tugging at his hair, but your surroundings made you pull away and tug at him him. “Let’s get to the farm, I need you,” you ordered, setting a rather fast pace for drunken Sam.

He whined, begged and pleaded, but in the end, he strolled with you, legs buckling and wobbling, and the lack of blood in his brain seemed to make the short path to your house even longer. The fabric of his clothes rubbed against his buldge so uncomfortably, and the way your hips swayed when you walked brought him close to tears. He wanted you. He had wanted you for so long, he couldn’t wait any longer.

The moment you reached the bus stop, Sam dropped to his knees, almost making you fall over due to the sudden weight shift. “Sam! What are you doing?”

“Fuck…fuck, please. ‘M beggin’ you. ‘M so fuckin’ hard…it hurts so bad…shit, you look so pretty for me,” he gasped, rutting against his hand that he had rested in his lap. The moonlight hit you so perfectly…you looked so amazing. Amazing enough for him to throw his head back, now gripping his length through his clothes. “Pretty please,“ he added, helplessly looking up at you. You bit your lower lip again, your own knees growing weak. You could feel the wetness pool between your legs, and it was hard for you to not just let him have his way with you.

“But what if anyone is gonna see us? We can’t risk being caught. It’s not that far anymore…”

“No! No one will see us!” Sam cried, “I promise…promise I’ll be quick. I’ll be quiet. Anythin‘, princess. Pretty please. I beg you. Please. I’ll be good. Just…please.”

You seriously doubted the value of a completely horny, drunk and in love person’s opinion, but before you knew it, you found yourself on your knees, kissing Sam sloppily.

The blonde immediately pounced on you, pressing his crotch into yours, his hands seemingly everywhere. “So pretty,” he panted against you, kissing down your jaw, down your neck, and then he already lapped at your throat. You seemingly felt him everywhere at once, making you moan out lowly.  That only urged Sam on more. He wanted more. He wanted to hear you, smell you, taste you, feel you. He wanted you. No, he needed you.

“You know how often I’ve dreamed of fucking you?”

It was just a murmur against your neck on which he greedily sucked. “How often I’ve dreamed of holdin‘ you in my arms? Pretty baby, makin‘ you all mine.”

Sam had seemingly sobered up a little but that didn’t help much – he was was already intoxicated by you again.

He tugged at your pants and at his at the same time, trying to get them both off at the same time, causing you to laugh out breathlessly. He gave up his attempt and back, licking over his lips.

“Need you so bad,” he repeated while he unbuckled his belt, struggling out of his pants.

You licked your lips and opened the button to your pants much slower, pushing them down your long legs centimetre by centimetre. Blue eyes were glued on you; Sam’s mouth hung open as he watched you, tongue hanging out just slightly. He was pretty sure you could see his dick throb against his already wet boxers, but fuck, who cared? He sure didn’t. The hunger in his eyes made you shiver, no man had ever looked at you like he did, and you were sure he was already fucking you in his head.

“The panties,” he stammered, making you grin to yourself. “The panties. Please, princess. Take them off. You’re so wet already, fuck, please, I- am pretty sure I’m gonna die if you don’t.”

“You mean these?” You teased, gripping at the waistband and letting it snap against your hips. The blonde groaned, the force of the sheer lust hitting him almost making him drop forward again.

“You want them off?”

He nodded, eyes yet again filled with tears. “Yoba, please, yes…need…need to see your pussy.”

“Then take them off.”

Sam was incredibly quick to move, much quicker than you had deemed in the range of possibility, he did have a lot of drinks, but he was on top of you the moment you gave the go. He pushed your shirt upwards and messily pulled your breasts from your bra, sucking one of your nipples into his mouth. He trailed his tongue around it, before switching sides, his hand trailing towards your panties already. He let his finger glide along your slit over the fabric, growl escaping him upon feeling your wet spot. “All that teasing gotcha wet, huh?” He hissed, biting your nipple gently before he slowly licked down your cleavage, staying in-between your breasts for a moment longer, just inhaling deeply and leaving his love bites. You smelled so good, so sweet; it was hard to not get lost in his in his need. However, after a moment he picked up his journey again and licked down your stomach, until he finally reached the hem of your panties.

The night air began to fill with moans that tumbled out of your mouth, the eagerness you were treated with leaving your cunt pulsing. By now you felt a need similar to Sam’s, making you pretty sure you needed him all over you to ever think properly again, even though right now, you were far from it. He let his fingers run up to your exposed chest, gripping your nipples between pointer finger and thumb and rolling them gently. “Lift your butt,” he ordered, almost smiling to himself when you did. He gripped the lace of your panties with his teeth, slowly tugging them down. You shuddered when the cold night air hit your hot wetness, and Sam moaned lowly upon seeing your cunt.“ Look how beautiful. Such a sweet little cunt…all for me, isn’t it? All for my cock and me,” he rambled, having to sit back on his heels for a moment. The beauty of your almost naked body had him dangerously close to the edge, and he would have forever hated himself if his own dick cockblocked him right now.

“Sam-“

“Get on your hands and knees for me, pretty baby.”

You sucked in air through your teeth, eyes dragging down his body. He was hard as a rock, and you were sure his boxers were about to rip, so you slowly settled on your hands and knees. Maybe it was also because you just needed to be absolutely stuffed with cock.

You tried to wait patiently, even though your own need made that incredibly hard, but you couldn’t risk getting Sam distracted. His gaze seemed to burn holes into your back, making you shift around on your knees. Then you finally heard shifting and the gentle sound of skin smacking against skin.

“You are so ready for me, baby,” he murmured, his fingers spreading your drooling lips slowly. One of them pushed inside of you, low groan falling from his lips. He curled his finger and then thrusted it knuckle-deep, breathing in sharply upon feeling you basically pulling him in. You were so wet and warm… and he could finally get his dick into you. He couldn’t take it anymore. He was about to be ripped apart by the feelings tumbling around inside of him, and you were the only thing on this whole planet that would ease this ache he had for you.

You felt his finger leave you and whined, wiggling your ass in the air. Much to your surprise, a hand came down on your butt, forcing you to yelp out Sam’s name. “Teasin‘ me all night already,” he slurred, pressing his tip against your soaked hole. “And it worked…”

With that, he slowly pushed himself inside of you and the world seemed to disappear.

All he could hear was static, and the sound of his own heartbeat, mixing with your moans. He was pretty sure the world could explode and he wouldn’t have blinked an eye. All he could think about was how good you felt; despite only having the tip in, you sucked him in deeper already.

“This okay?”

You nodded eagerly, pushing back against his dick in a desperate attempt to get more. Yoba, you needed more. This time it was you that wanted to cry and beg for him, but Sam seemed to pick up your silent prayers.

His hips shoved forward eagerly; it seemed like your walls were made for his cock. You fit so snuck around him, cunt welcoming him with a wet sound. The two of you moaned and you had to rest your head on your arms to keep at least your butt up in the air for Sam, the promise of being quite long forgotten. Centimetre by centimetre Sam pushed inside of you, making sure to take his time, to really split you in two for him and only him. One of his hands was resting firmly on your hip, the other cupping one of your breasts. When he was balls deep inside of you, he abruptly stopped, his penis twitching violently inside of you. For a moment, you weren’t sure if he had just had his orgasm, and when you turned around you could see his eyes watering. You were about to ask, yet the thought was immediately cut off when Sam pulled back and rammed back into you.

Suddenly you could feel the weight of his upper body on your own as he angled himself to get better access to your sweet cunt.

“Mine, all mine,” Sam panted into your ear as he began to pick up a fast pace, humping you like an animal in heat. The sound of his balls smacking against your wet pussy and the way his pelvic bone hit your bare ass created sounds lewd enough for anyone within a kilometre to know what was happening. Neither of you cared.

You were a moaning mess beneath the blonde, and he was whimpering, close to sobbing your name. Sam sucked on your neck to mark you up, keep you away from dirty, greedy eyes such as his own, his cock bullying into you at a fast pace; your walls sucking him off so well. His eyes rolled in the back of his head when he felt you clench around him as he began to gently circle your clit.

“Like that, huh? Like when…I do this?” He snarled, licking his lips and kissing down your spine; a task that was rather hard given that his hard thrusts made your whole body shake.

“Sam!” You sobbed, trying to meet his thrusts desperately as if you just couldn’t get enough, and Sam was happy to deliver. He pressed you into his body and fucked into you as if his life depended on it, tongue hanging out and droplets of saliva falling on your back.

You swore you could see little fairies dance around you when Sam hit your sweet spot, this combined with his relentless spelling of his name on your clit made you approach the edge with fast steps.

Sam wasn’t much better – he was staring at his thick perverted cock vanishing into your pussy, spreading open your sweet little hole with each thrust. He loved to see how he forced wetness out of you with each thrust, and he swore to himself he’d make you cream.

“Sam, fuck, Sam! I’m gonna cu-cum!” You cried, the thought of if you could maybe wake someone with your needy cries for dick crossed your mind, but it quickly turned into arousal. You would love for people to hear how well Sam was fucking you, how mean he was to your cunt, snapping his hips back and forth mercilessly, accompanied by the sound of his skin smacking against your reddened ass that by now was sporting a red handprint. 

“Gonna cum, Sam, gonna cum!” You slurred, feeling his wet tongue trace patterns down the side of your neck again. White light flashed in front of your eyes, your toes curled up as you felt your face growing numb.

Sam’s whimpers and small groans had turned into dragged out whines, adoring how you let him fuck you out here near the bus stop. He wanted people to hear you. Show them you were his and his alone. He would have loved for each of the guys to see him ruining you, so they’d keep their hands off. Seeing how his cock vanished inside of you with each thrust, how his precum and your juices were mixing together, dribbling down his shaft. The thought of them seeing you sprawled out and crying for him and the feeling of you drooling all over his throbbing dick, begging for more was enough to push him over the edge.

His body tensed up, a cry of sheer pleasure was being bellowed into the night as his orgasm washed over him, his cock pressed deep inside of you. The feeling of his cum inside of you was too much. You sobbed his name, fingers wrapping around strands of grass as your body convulsed, the numbness that caught up to you soothing as you clenched around your lover’s dick, making it hard for Sam to move. The blonde gritted his teeth, his thrusts slowly slowing down as he hung his head; his breathing hard and laboured

You were lying beneath him, panting as well as your hand slowly searched for his. Upon finding it, you intertwined your fingers, and for a moment you two just sat there, Sam’s dick still buried inside of you, your hands interlocked.

“Round two when we reach the farm?” You whispered after a while, despite having his cum drip out of you as he pulled back slowly, making Sam smile like a lovesick puppy.

“Round two when we reach the farm.”

What the two of you didn’t notice was the text from Sebastian’s number that made the screens of your phones light up. Nice show. Make it less obvious that you want to fuck next time or send me videos so I can rewatch.

[makethesausage]

S.3884 A bill to designate the facility of the United States Postal Service located at 404 U.S. Highway 41 North in Baraga Michigan as the "Cora Reynolds Anderson Post Office".

S.3884 A bill to designate the facility of the United States Postal Service located at 404 U.S. Highway 41 North in Baraga, Michigan, as the "Cora Reynolds Anderson Post Office". sponsored by Sen. Gary Peters became law on December 5th, 2022. https://ift.tt/Z36S2AM

[michaelgabrill]

S.3884 A bill to designate the facility of the United States Postal Service located at 404 U.S. Highway 41 North in Baraga, Michigan, as the "Cora Reynolds Anderson Post Office". is a new law of the land. Check it out! https://ift.tt/Q4mC3ar

[beautifulnerdkitty]

Set:

Arch Window - 1942 polys (master mesh for the windows)

Big Arch Window - 2852 polys

Small Balcony - 3884 polys

Stone Balcony - 7677 polys

Big Balcony - 8394 polys

Both windows have 1tile and 2tile versions. Collection file included.

Download

[ash-whimsicalfanfic]

Jealousy, Jealousy

Leroy Jethro Gibbs X Fem OC/Reader

Word Count: 3884

Warning: Mild Language, Fluff, Angst, Possessiveness, Jealousy…

Prompt: Gibbs pulled a stunt and you decided to get your revenge—by making him jealous…

Y/N Gibbs POV

I woke up today and had the most brilliant idea. I knew exactly how to get my husband back. I shake my head, still unable to believe that Jethro could do such a thing—especially at work!

FLASHBACK

I hum a tune as I step out of the bathroom with a big, fluffy towel wrapped around my. I found myself sifting through my work clothes when my eyes catch a silver gift bag. I grab it, pulling the card off it.

Y/N/N, be a good girl and wear this to work, will you? -Jet

I open the bag and pull out a beautiful dark red lingerie set. I was trying to think of what the occasion was and why Jethro would be giving me a gift. My heart beats with anticipation at the thought of us having sex. We haven't done anything intimate for weeks besides a quick kiss here and there. We've both put our focus on work and we've come home, immediately crashing is bed.

I drop the towel, sliding on the lingerie set and hum in approval. I loved the feeling of lingerie against my skin. Something about it made me feel confident and sexy. I go back to my dresser and pull on a baggy pair of black cargo pants. I pull on a white baggy t-shirt and a black blazer.

Jethro was possessive and I loved it. I joined the team seven years ago and I may be the baby of the team, slightly younger than Ziva, Tim and Tony, but I worked my ass off. I was the "heart" of the team as they put it. I was a profound profiler and negotiator. We all were great investigators, but I also brought our little team closer together.

When I first joined, I could give a care less about the dress code. Some days, I'd follow it, but my clothes were snug to my figure. I was confident and didn't mind showing a bit more cleavage than needed. Some days, I liked to wear short skater skirts like Abby, to show off my legs. I'd show the occasional stomach here and there.

But, I enjoyed the way Jethro's eyes would roam over me. I chuckle, thinking about the day he asked me over to his house. It was our first kiss and our first time together. We were friends with benefits briefly before I had enough and outed how I felt. Then we dated before marrying. All of which I stopped dressing the way I use to, noticing how possessive he got over me once we were officially together. He's a man who gets jealous easy, not appreciating others staring at "his woman" as he puts it.

I leave my red hair down, grabbing my bag before leaving our home. It was time for work and it seems Jethro left me to sleep in. I was thankful and disappointed. I knew I needed the sleep, but I also enjoy our car rides to work together. I can't remember the last time I drove to work on my own.

It was a quiet drive, mostly filled with humming before I hum my way into the building and up to the bullpen. I saw the FBI here and roll my eyes. Oh, what a case this will be.

"Hon, we are working alongside the FBI on this case. Show them the conference room." Jethro says.

"Well, good morning to you as well husband. Yeah, my morning has been wonderful, thanks for asking. Oh, how's yours? Wonderful too. It was strange coming into work without you. Oh, and I got your gift. And yes, I listened. Oh, your tired of my rambling. Right, don't forget I'm your wife, Jet. Agents, follow me." I say, mocking at Jethro.

He had a small amused smile on his face. I was slightly moody he was acting strange with me today. I lead the agents away, ignoring Tony's grin at my one-on-one conversation with myself.

I leave the Agents to set up and head back to my desk. I could feel his eyes on me and I glance up, meeting those piercing blue eyes. I quirk a brow.

"Yes, Jethro?" I ask.

"Wondering if you woke up on the wrong side of the bed." He murmurs, smirking slightly.

"Asshole! You didn't even say good morning, we didn't ride together, I haven't even had a good morning kiss or hug, I haven't had coffee nor breakfast, and the first thing you do when you see me is put me to work." I hiss and he snorts.

"I think you woke up with your hair on fire, hon." He says.

I clench my jaw, narrowing my eyes at him. I shake my head as the elevators open and Fornell walks off.

"Y/N! Any chance your divorcing Jethro yet?" Fornell asks with a grin.

"I might just be his fifth ex-wife after this morning!" You tease, sending a glare at a grumpy Jethro who was glaring daggers at the both of you.

Fornell talks to Gibbs, but your eyes widen as you bite your tongue to silence any noise from you as you clench your thighs at the sudden vibrations you felt. It clicked. The lingerie bottoms weren't an ordinary bottoms. They were meant for teasing. In your case, punishment. You glare up at Jethro who's lips twitches as he amps it up higher. You nearly jumped out of your chair, trying to suppress the moan.

END OF FLASHBACK

Oh, how he pushed the wrong buttons. He had left earlier once again much to my displeasure, but today was the day to get him back. Make him jealous and then make him have the bluest balls he's ever going to have.

I walk out of the bathroom, dropping the towel. I put on a lingerie set. I grab my black skirt that ended at mid-thigh—and that’s if I was being generous on that.

It was tight, hugging my ass and my legs. It really brought out my legs and I grin. It has a little slit, but it was cute. Not to mention the designer belt I add to it—a gift from Jethro. I had been talking about it with Abby for months and he got it as a birthday present.

I grab a white top that was like a tank-top with the wider straps. It was clinging to my body, the deep plunge neckline showed off more cleave than I've shown in years. A little bit of my belly was peaking through and I grin. Perfect. I slide on a black blazer before grabbing my black high heels.

This was going to be perfect.

I go to the bathroom, brushing my wavy red hair. I go for a slightly edgy, but neutral makeup look with a slightly dark red lipstick.

I hum, grabbing my purse and begin making my way to the Navy yard. I decided a pit stop was necessary and I grabbed drinks for the team. I get there and decided to go to Autopsy where I leave their drinks on the table as they were out getting a body. I leave a little note, humming as I head back to the elevator and head to Abby's lab.

She had her music going and I walk in, as she spins, she sees me. She turns the music off and looks at me in awe.

"You look so pretty!" She exclaims.

"Thank you, Abs! I brought you a gift." I say, handing her Caf-Pow.

"Your the best! Thank you! Thank you! Thank you!" She exclaims and I chuckle.

"Of course." I say.

I head to the elevator, feeling slightly nervous for Jethro's reaction. I walk off the elevator and Tony whistles.

"I brought you a coffee with loads of cream and sugar." I say, winking at him and he grins.

"Thanks!" He says.

I head to Ziva, pulling a tea free.

"A tea for you, it was a new one on the menu I thought you'd like to try." I say.

"Thank you, Y/N/N. You look gorgeous by the way." She says, smirking slightly and I smile.

"Thanks, Ziva. I felt like dressing up a bit today. I felt like I deserved it after the hell Jethro put my through last week." I say.

"Fornell can be a real pain in the ass." She chuckles and I grin.

"That he can be." I say, even though that wasn't what I was referring too.

I walk to McGee, handing him a black coffee which he quietly thanks me for as he is on the phone. I walk to Jethro, handing him a coffee.

"My office." He grumbles.

"Oh, Jethro. Take that stick out of your ass. Who's looking anyway. It's an outfit and it's cute." I say.

He was silent, staring at me with dark, narrowed blue eyes. I could see the lust in them just as I could see the possessiveness in them...the jealousy coming to the surface.

I turn, walking to my desk, throwing the carton away once I pulled my coffee free. I hum softly as the elevator doors open.

"Fornell! If you like us so much, come join the team!" I say, winking at him.

"FBI is more my forte...although, your always welcome to join my team." He says, his eyes on my chest.

Jethro clears his throat and I look at him to see him glaring daggers at Fornell.

"Eyes off my wife, Fornell." He warns.

That sent a strange sensation to my core. I knew why and I was eager for the day to go on, wanting to press more buttons.

"I don't know how you managed to settle down with this grumpy bastard, Y/N." Fornell says and I giggle, rolling my eyes.

"Y/N, my office. Now." Jethro snaps, standing up as he storms towards the elevator.

I grin which stopped the team from looking so concerned. It was their turn to chuckle.

"You planned this out." Tony says.

"That I did. Revenge is a bitch." I say and he chuckles as I walk toward the elevator that Jethro was waiting on.

The doors close and he hits the button harshly. I purse my lips, swatting his arm.

"Easy there, macho man." I say.

"What the hell are you wearing?" He snaps, glaring down at me.

"Well this is my skirt. Look! It even has a little slit right here. It's so cute. And this top...you know that though." I say, grinning.

"I don't want people ogling my wife. I have some extra clothes of yours at my desk." He sighs.

"I'm not changing, Jet." I say.

"Why the hell not?" He asks, turning back to me.

"Because, I like this outfit. And you'd like it to if you investigated a little more." I say.

"You didn't." He grits out.

"Oh, I did. Your favorite set too." I say and I gasp as he pushes me up against a wall.

"It's one thing wearing this outfit to work, knowing men will stare, but then lingerie. Your asking for your ass to be red." He growls.

His hand twitches on my hip and I smile softly, putting my hand over it as I slide it under my skirt. His eyes were locked with mine and I make his fingers brush the lace bottoms.

"I just woke up feeling really good about today, Jet. I wanted an outfit to suit my mood and confidence." I say, shrugging.

"Your changing. I can't have you on my mind all damn day as we work a case, worrying about someone looking up your skirt." He says and I roll my eyes.

I push him back, smoothing my outfit out.

"I'm not changing, Jet. I'm your wife, not some...dog you can control." I say.

"Your my bitch in bed, aren't you?" He says and my jaw drops.

"Leroy Jethro Gibbs! That is so crude and so...s-so unlike you!" I exclaim.

"I thought you liked it when I called you my bitch. Are you not? What happened to being daddy's whore?" He asks and I gulp.

I could feel my skin flush as my panties dampen. Maybe I didn't think this all the way through. He smirks, that stupid lopsided smirk, his eyes twinkling. He knew damn well what he was doing to me.

Two can play this game.

"Well daddy...I do like it when you call me those names. But, I'm not in the mood right now." I say.

"W-What? You just called me daddy. Your doing that thing with your eyes and you wore this outfit. You want my attention. Well, you have it." He says.

Oh, I have it alright and I'll have it the rest of the day, whilst leaving you hanging for that crap you pulled last week.

"I think your profiling skills are a bit off, hon." I say, feigning an apologetic smile.

I pat his arm before moving out from the wall and hitting the emergency stop button. He goes to hit again, but I swat his hand away and the doors open. We walk off and he grabs my wrist. I stop, looking at him.

"Please change...I'll do whatever you want." He murmurs.

"I like my outfit, Jethro." I say, pulling away and going to my desk.

"Gibbs! I brought the file you asked for!" Palmer says before all the papers fall out.

He looks at Jethro wide eyed and I stand, bending over to help. I was well aware what I was going and I heard Fornell and Tony whistle as Jethro curses and I hear his chair.

I feel him press against me from behind, a hand on my hip as he leans down behind me to grab a paper.

"Sit your ass down right now, Y/N or else I'll carry your ass out of here kicking and screaming." He warns quietly.

"I'm trying to help Palmer. Leave me alone, Jethro. Your being moody today." I say.

He grunts, but I finish picking up the papers before standing. I take the papers from Palmer as Jethro tugs my skirt down as it did ride up a bit. I walk back to my desk, working on reorganizing the papers before standing and handing it to Jethro.

I sit and Jethro soon was giving out orders when he realized Tony was alone. I stand.

"I'll go with Tony! It's been awhile since I've been out baiting a suspect." I say.

"Not dressed in that." Jethro says gruffly.

"Oh get over yourself, Jet. I look fine. Come on, Tony!" I exclaim.

"We'll be watching!" Fornell says before he grunts.

"Stop staring at my wife's ass." Jethro warns.

We all get on the elevator and I hum softly as Tony hands me the keys. The keys...to his very nice car that I've been dying to drive.

"You dressed to impress and it's a simple and quick undercover op where you get his attention. So, get his attention tigress." He says, winking at me and I grin.

I follow Tony to his car, more than eager to drive his baby. I glance at Jethro to see his brooding face and fiery eyes. I knew he was growing more pissed off. My eyes were on his slightly growing bulge.

The drive to the nice bar was short. Tony and I made our way to the bar with our earpieces in.

"Look a little more like a couple." McGee says.

"Boss is going to kill me." Tony grumbles before sliding his hand from my lower back to ass.

"I'll protect you." I say.

"Will you?" Jethro's gruff voice comes through.

"If you don't want the bluest balls in history, Jethro, I'd comply a bit." I murmur, looking over the menu of drinks as Tony tries to stifle his laughter.

"I don't know what to get, babe!" I exclaim, moving so I was in front of Tony.

Our chests were pressed together, his hand on my ass and I move my hand to his. His eyes widen before going back to normal. I catch a man staring and I did a brief study before looking back up into Tony's eyes.

"Blue jeans. Hawaiian shirt. Ten o'clock." I say.

"See him." Jethro grunts.

"Why don't you get yourself a martini?" Tony asks.

"I don't like girly drinks, you know that." I say and he chuckles.

"Get her a Black Russian." Jethro says and I smile sweetly up at Tony.

"Hey, can I get a Black Russian and a bourbon over ice?" Tony asks.

I giggle as he lifts me up onto the bar, both of us level almost. I was still slightly short.

"Boss, you got to get some food in her. She's as light as a feather." Tony says.

"Oh stop!" I giggle, smacking his chest.

"Black Russian and bourbon over ice." The bartender says.

Tony hands me my drink and grabs his, both of us clinking our glasses together. He took a sip, but I down mine.

"Easy there, tigress." Tony chides.

"Give me yours." I say.

He hands me his, which solves the problem of his drink and not looking suspicious. I downed his, grinning.

"Want to go out back?" He asks.

"Does either of you have a sidearm?" Fornell questions.

"Inner thigh." I say.

"DiNozzo...if I find out that your hands go up my wife's skirt, you won't have to worry about a funeral." Jethro grunts.

"Come!" I exclaim, jumping off the bar and grabbing his hand.

We walk out the back, and I glanced back at Tony to catch the unsub following us.

"He'll be right behind us." I say.

"I ain't grabbing your sidearm. Gibbs will kill me." He says.

I reach a hand under my skirt, pulling my gun out of the holster before handing it to him which he shoved inside his jacket before he picks me up and pins me against the wall.

"Alright. Couples who drink and go to the back alley do what?" McGee asks.

I could see the eye roll. Tony looked nervous and I roll my eyes, pulling him in for a kiss. He kisses back as the backdoor opens. We pull away when we hear a click and see the unsub pointing a gun at us. Tony had my red lipstick all over his mouth and he slowly sat me down.

"Back away and give me that whore. God! Why can't you guys stop! Your constantly wrecking families. He came in here the other night with a girl. His wife." He snaps.

Ziva and Tony did go undercover the other night. For todays purposes. I reach my hand under Tony's jacket, my hand on the gun before I aim it at him.

"Only one person can call me a whore, and that's for pleasure purposes. Drop the weapon. Your coming with us." I say.

"Y/N! Didn't need to know that!" McGee groans.

"Dirty girl, for real. Jeesh. I didn't expect boss to be that way." Tony says, looking confused.

I could hear Jethro and Fornell chuckling on the other side as Ziva snickers.

"Always knew you were a dirty minded woman, Y/N/N." Ziva teases.

"He calls me other names and I call him some delightful names too." I say, grinning.

Tony cuffs the unsub who finally decided to drop his weapon. Jethro and Fornell walk out the back door and Jethro looks at me with a small smile and an amused expression.

"Really had to keep running your mouth, didn't you hon?" He asks.

"He called me a whore. I didn't like it. It's not like when you call me a whore." I tease.

"Alright. Coms off." McGee says quickly and I laugh.

Jethro puts his hand on my back and we begin walking out of the alleyway. Ziva was helping Tony wipe my lipstick off and I decided to touch up my lipstick. I hum, bobbing my head slightly.

"Hey, is she single?" I hear.

"Do you not see that man's hand on her back? And the wedding ring on her finger. She's happily married. I'd keep a distance if you don't want that man to shoot you in the ass. He's very possessive over her. And I think of her as a sister so get lost asshole." Tony snaps.

I smile, looking up at Jethro who also caught the conversation. He had a small smirk on his face and I walk away from him. Eager to get home.

I walk in, Jethro not far behind me. I walk to the kitchen, grabbing two beers. I glance up when I see him hovering in the doorway with clenched fists and an unreadable expression.

"What the hell was your problem today?" He asks.

"I have no idea what you are talking about." I say, shrugging with an innocent smile.

"The outfit. Teasing me. Flirting with people. The undercover op with Tony." He says.

"Jethro, tell me you didn't forget." I chide, walking towards him.

He watches me with those intense blue eyes and I stop in front of him, looping my arms around his neck.

"Elaborate." He demands and I huff.

"Last week. You stepped on my toes, Jet. And you thought I could let you get away with it...you thought." I say.

"Your one hell of a woman. You could of found another approach to seeking your revenge, hon. You flashed your ass today more times than I can count." He says.

"Thankfully I have a nice ass, Jethro." I say.

"My point exactly, besides I don't appreciate people staring at my woman." He says, his hands settling on my hips.

The tingles I felt were unreal. This man stirred a side I didn't know I had.

"Oh, Jethro. Green isn't your color. Who knew you could get jealous over little things." I tease.

"You are not a little thing. Your the most important part of my life. And I'm not ashamed I'm jealous. I have a smart, beautiful and feisty wife that everyone seems to want and I'm not very keen on the thought of losing you." He says.

"I love you, Jet." I murmur.

"I love you too, hon. But, get your ass upstairs. I'm going to get the coffee pot ready for tomorrow. We aren't getting much sleep tonight." He says and my heart speeds up.

"Really?" I ask excitedly.

He smirks, pulling away and walking towards the coffee pot. I push the skirt down while he's turned around pull the shirt off, left in my lingerie and heels before throwing the skirt and shirt at him.

I didn't miss the way he tensed before slowly turning to me. I grin slyly at him, loving how his eyes slowly roam over me. I loved the way they darkened and narrowed. His gaze was intense.

"Upstairs, now." He says.

"You better hurry, Jethro. I might get impatient." I tease before running out of the room.

I didn't miss his low chuckle and I knew that tonight was going to be a long one. But, I knew it was going to be a good night. It's been weeks, a few months, since we've been intimate.

[y2sims]

16 (+1) Lidiqnata Meshes in The New Hair System.

colors by pooklet.

textures mostly remi v2 + poppet’s wavy.

binned, tooltipped and compressed.

all the meshes are included.

hey! i wasn’t supposed to do a full hair dump but this happened! some of them were requested, most of them weren’t. i was just happy to notice how easy most of these were to retexture, hah. binning was a completely different story, though, as most of these hairs make the hair binner crash. @profesionalpartyguest had the same problem and i found out that it’s because the hairs have some 1x1 texture files... anyway, i managed to bin them all, but they aren’t familied and some hairs have separate grey colors, some have it linked to black. most of these also have separate files for all the colors, because i didn’t want to start merging them separately 😬

all these hairs are pretty old but look very nice (with pretty low poly counts!), at least on bodyshop. i haven’t tested how the animations etc. look in-game, but hopefully there won’t be any problems!

! please note that there is an issue with elisabeth and helena meshes, they seem to conflict so you can only have one of them in your game at once !

DOWNLOAD ALL // FOLDER FOR SINGLE FILES - previews included!

↓  more info and individual previews under the cut ↓

Lidiqnata Alice

(preview)

ages cf - ef

3986 polys

Lidiqnata Amelia

(preview)

ages cf - ef

2660 polys

i used @deedee-sims retexture as a base for the scalp bc i got too lazy to try to make it look decent 😩

Lidiqnata Charlotte - two versions

(previews: 1 & 2)

ages cf - ef

3028 polys

two versions: one with longer alpha and one with shorter

Lidiqnata Donna

(preview)

ages cf - ef

3060 polys

Lidiqnata Elfy - no flowers

(previews: 1 & 2)

ages yaf - ef

2979 polys

Lidiqnata Elisabeth

(preview)

ages yaf - ef

3912 polys

note!! for me at least, this mesh conflicts with the “helena” mesh. idk why, but if i have them both in my downloads folder, both hairs show up in bodyshop either as elisabeth or as helena, depending which mesh has loaded first. 

Lidiqnata Ellyn - plus male version Teodor

(previews: 1 & 2)

ages cf - ef / cm - em

2750 polys

Lidiqnata Helena

(preview)

ages cf - ef

3884 polys

note!! for me at least, this mesh conflicts with the “elisabeth” mesh. idk why, but if i have them both in my downloads folder, both hairs show up in bodyshop either as elisabeth or as helena, depending which mesh has loaded first. 

Lidiqnata Jessi

(preview)

ages cf - ef

2979 polys

requested by anonymous

Lidiqnata Kara

(preview)

ages cf - ef (no young adult state bc i don’t know how to add one myself lol)

2962 polys

Lidiqnata Lily Ordinary

(preview)

ages cf - ef

2582 polys

Lidiqnata Michelle

(preview)

ages cf - ef

2332 polys

retextured by @jellymeduza, i just recolored this one

requested by anonymous

Lidiqnata Nadia

(preview)

ages pf - ef

2266 polys

Lidiqnata Silver

(preview)

ages pf - ef (though, i only now noticed that the toddler version is pretty wonky...)

4384 polys

there’s also a male conversion of this hair but i couldn’t find a version that would have allowed me to extract it in bodyshop so i didn’t do that

Lidiqnata Stella - two versions

(previews: 1 & 2)

ages pf - ef

3490 polys

two versions: one with longer alpha, one with a shorter

Lidiqnata Victoria

(preview)

ages cf - ef

3486 polys

[biscuitblinkeu]

Build A Bitch [1]

Park Chaeyoung x Fem!reader

Word count: 3884?

Warnings: this applies to every chapter: Profanity is used, and there is trigger warnings

A/n: Don’t ask why this chapters so long because I have no idea what possessed me to write that much, it’s practically two chapters in one… And, maybe, just maybe, I waited till I reached 400 followers (Wow! Thank you!) to post this series.

“Why is it that I always find you hiding in here?”

…………………………………………………………………………

Multiple times, when you have nothing to occupy your mind, the question is drawn about and you find yourself asking: what makes someone a Crazy Bitch? The term most indefinitely applies to women, and is said by a “friend” or man in most cases.

Is it a woman that has emotional problems?

“I don’t know how you deal with that crazy bitch. I’d never put up with her antics.”

Is it a woman who after a break up slashes the tires of your car, burns your clothes, and tries to get you fired from your job, that calls you the next day to reconcile?

“That crazy bitch keyed my car!”

Is it a woman who has suffered during their childhood, and as a result of the experience matures to be simultaneously lascivious and sexually aggressive?

“I refuse to go clubbing with her, she’s constantly acting like she’s going to fuck everyone— it’s embarrassing, you can’t go anywhere with that crazy bitch without getting into some kind of trouble. She needs to get help.”

You believe, contrary to the stereotypes that come with the term, that a “crazy bitch” is an intelligent woman who will call you out on your behavior. That will not put up with your bullshit and will hold everything in until you push her to the point that she explodes, and tells you everything about yourself. Verbally destroying your existence, and exposing you for the true piece of shit you are. There’s little to nothing (at all) mentally wrong with these women. Calling them crazy is the only defense a person has to make her seem unstable to everyone.

You slide into a chair, dropping your backpack to the floor with a sigh. You decided to go to your on-campus Starbucks to pass time till class starts. The campus is partially empty because no one takes morning classes. You’re here because you are, in fact, a morning person— though it doesn’t feel like that today. Today, you’d do anything for an extra hour or two of sleep. You’re here because you’re an art major, because your professor, Mr. McCarthy, believed waking up at the (ass) crack of dawn is the most effective way to get those “creative juices” flowing. In short, you and your peers had no choice.

On any other day you would’ve enjoyed your 8:00am life drawing class, but your head is killing you, and so are your feet (you should’ve taken the train) since you wanted to walk across campus and enjoy the morning dew of spring. You’re thirsty and you have half the mind to go and get free water at Starbucks but you don’t want to get up. Everything is just so bright and dizzy. Thus why your head is situated on the oh so cool table top, offering you short relief and bliss.

“(Y/n)!”

You groan, slowly lifting your heavy head from the table in hope of easing the splitting throb and squint at the woman who’s robbed you of your peace. She finishes the journey to you and pulls out a chair next to you and you wince. Everything she does is too loud for you right now.

“Lisa,” you sigh, exasperated. “Would it kill you to be a little more subtle?” You sound tired and your voice is a little raspy from the lack of hydration.

Lisa stops talking about her multiple cats and pauses, finally giving you a look over. “Oh.” She whispered, looking apologetic. She gives you a deprecatory smile. “Hangover?”

You nod numbly and Lisa gets up without another word. You close your eyes, only to feel the back of them throbbing in tandem along with your head. About two minutes later, Lisa is back with a Gatorade and banana walnut and pecan loaf.

She sets them in front of you, smiling. “Here, for you. I hope you feel better.”

“Oh, you didn’t have to Lisa, thank you.” You uncap the Gatorade and take a few sips, feeling much more comfortable now that your throat is wet. What would you do without Lisa?

The Thai befriended you freshman year when you shared the photography-I class with her. You didn’t even know how to use a camera if it wasn’t your phone’s. She helped you get through the class with good marks. She ignored what others told her about you and approached you— and you don’t know why she did, because freshman-year you was a trip. You bonded over your love for the arts and animals, quickly becoming close friends. Now, it’s your junior year and you’re still close as ever. You wouldn’t do anything to jeopardize your friendship.

You and Lisa don’t share as many classes this year as you did prior, but you still hang out often. Lisa shares the photography-III and English class with you this year. She majors in dance. Lisa excels in all her classes— especially dance. (This girl can really move!)

As you eat the banana-pecan bread, you wonder why Lisa hasn’t asked you why you have such a bad hangover. Usually she’s on your tail about that, lecturing you on why you should stop going out so much. She knows you went to a party in the upperclassmen’s dorms last night with your Fine Arts major friends.

You observe Lisa, who rambles on about the new choreography she’s learning that she wants to show you, and wonder. Has she finally given up on making you a better you? Is she dissatisfied and disappointed that you still went to the party against her wishes? That you continue to mingle with those:

“Poor excuses of a friend group.”

“Bad influences.”

“Scrooges.”

“Substandard stick-figure drawing shit-heads.”

The last one makes you laugh because it’s the first time you heard Lisa use obscenity and curse. She was really mad that time: when she found out the art portfolio assignment you worked on won the drafting to get featured in a student art showing at a popular museum, she was ecstatic for you. But it failed to be submitted because you were suspected of plagiarism.

For some reason your work looked incredibly similar to your friend’s. It was obvious she copied you. Lisa thinks that your friend had very obvious intentions. If she doesn't win, you don’t win. You go down with her. So when it was obvious you were going to win, she pirated your hard work. Even acted like you stole hers— and the fact you were “friends” didn’t make anything better.

You were devastated at the time, but got over it. Lisa never did, and with a vengeance, she even got her law major friend Jennie involved. Now that? That was a whole mess.

“Why are you staring at me?” Lisa pipes up, and you realize she’s finished her rant and has been calling for your attention for quite some time now.

“You’re not going to ask…?”

“Do you want me to?” Lisa smiles knowingly.

“Yes, actually. Please bestow some of your wisdom on me.” You joke.

“Well,” Lisa begins. “How was the party?” Internally letting out a sigh at her broad question, you know she has to start somewhere.

“It was…interesting.” You say, trying to give a noncommittal response, which you suppose will suffice, considering that you were drunk and can hardly remember the whole event anyway.

“Interesting how? What were you up to?”

Oh, just your usual sexual escapades— can’t tell her that, though, can you?

You shrug and sip from your Gatorade, avoiding eye contact with her. “I don’t remember much…just drinking, dancing, I might have kissed a few people too.” You mutter, almost to yourself.

Lisa furrows her brows. Her gaze flickers to your neck, scrutinizing the expanse of revealed skin. She does this for a moment more before speaking again, seemingly satisfied with what she saw: no marks. “Did you hook up with anyone?” She asks, and the hint of concern in her voice doesn’t go unnoticed.

Lisa wasn’t fond of you sleeping with people you or she didn’t know well, even if those said people went to your college. Lisa may not approve of some things you do, but she’s a loyal friend who just wants you to stay safe.

Your face feels warm. “No,” you assure her. “Just kissing.”

Right.

She lets the topic go after that, and she tells you what’s happening in her life right now. Along the way, she got up to buy herself a drink as well, having to stand in a line now that more people are arriving.

It's then when you get a text. Upon opening the chat, your heart drops to your stomach. A text, followed by a chain of photos of you that are absolutely humiliating. The pictures seem to have the one focus to show you in some type of lewd way— like you’re some kind of horny bitch.

The first attachment has you captured during a passionate kiss as you're grinding onto a man’s lap, arms hooked around his neck as he holds your hips. Another shows you with hands slightly under a woman’s dress, you have her pinned against the wall, your lips together in an eager manner. The rest of the pictures follow a similar fashion, some even having inappropriate comments edited on the bottom.

Your phone dings again. It’s a message this time.

Oh God. Your stomach lurches and that deep feeling of anxiety begins to boil. You reread it over and over, irrationally hoping the words are just an illusion and that if you read it again and again the words will change. (They don’t.)

What if I were to post these online?

Your first thought was that whoever this is, is joking. This is just some sick prank from someone who was at that party last night. Who would be that invested in your life to go to the extent of stalkerish behavior?

You must’ve taken too long to reply because another one is sent a minute later.

Everyone knows you're a crazy bitch, what harm will it do?

Oh?

Your jaw is clenched and you stare at the images and texts, seething. That two worded term gave them away. There’s only two people who still call you that, so it’s either both or one of them responsible for this.

With trembling fingers, you turn off your phone. Taking a deep breath, you close your eyes. Hundreds of thoughts are racing through your head— but the recurring question lingers: How dare they?

It’s another thing that you’re not even disappointed. A little shaken, yes. Shocked? Totally. But disappointed? Not at all.

You knew.

So, it feels like cold water was poured on you, it feels like being slapped; with reality. It’s the long awaited, big and regretful I-told-you-so moment— because Lisa told you so.

And because Lisa told you so, you’re going to do what Lisa told you not to do (if this situation was to come).

You open your eyes to Lisa, still in line, looking at you in concern and confusion, probably wondering why you look so distressed. “You alright?” She mouths, brows knitted. You smile weakly, giving her a thumbs up before looking at the white marbled floors.

A moment later you open the contact again and stare blankly at the screen, thinking about your plan of action. This is considered blackmail, isn’t it? That means that the course of action you should take is talking to a blackmail attorney and reporting who sent those photos. And as satisfying as that sounds— that whoever sent those would be fined or sent to prison— you don’t plan on doing that. (Yet.) There’s much more satisfying ways to deal with this, afterall.

You nearly fall out of your chair when a hand touches your shoulder.

“(Y/n)? Who sent those?” (Thank God) It’s Lisa, who now stands directly behind you looking over your shoulder. She’s frowning and looks as if she’ll blow a fuse if you don’t answer her, and quickly too. But all you can think about is finding the person/s who took these. The chair you were sitting on skids on the marble as you abruptly stand, shoving your phone into your sweatpants’s pocket and gathering your things at a fast pace.

“Where are you going?” Lisa asks, alarmed as you start walking towards the building exit. “Wait!” She reaches out and grabs your arm. “…Just don’t do anything I wouldn’t do, alright?”

“I won’t.” After today passes, you think.

Loud laughter that turns silent, turns into grumbles and bitchy whines very quickly.

“Hey guys!” You shout when you’re a few footsteps away from their little circle, moving towards them quickly. They’re always in the same spot, it wasn’t hard to find them. Iseul, Ramus, Riley, and Krystal were all surrounded around Jackson, looking down at his device giggling like little girls. They barely had time to react as you bulldozed through. “What’s so funny? What are we laughing about? Let me see,” you forcefully snatch the phone out of his hand much to his shock.

So funny. Just fucking hilarious. They were laughing at the pictures of you— of course, and they seemed to have had lots of fun coming up with captions at the bottom of the photos and playing with the dumb filters.

Almost immediately, you delete the file from the photo editing app they used, exit out, and click onto his photos. Krystal, the Barbie wannabe is on her toes a moment later, ready to snatch the phone out of your hands. You see, you have to be careful around her; you all call her “Swiper” (no swiping) for a reason. She swiped your ex; Jackson; your cash, your clothes, your art, your— you get the point. But she’s the clumsiest person you know, so you're not really surprised she tripped onto her ass when you dodged her outstretched arm.

You deleted the photos from the Camera app on his phone, and then you had to go to the Photos app and delete them again, permanently. On to the Messages app now.

You can’t help but question why this is so easy. Your little group has five people, but only two of them are actually trying to get the phone back. Jackson chases you down and wow, is it hard to run and tap on a phone at the same time. You’re lucky you ran track in highschool. Eventually you ran out of places to run due to the lake behind you that cuts the campus halfway into two parts. Maybe you shouldn’t have ran onto the dock. It’s not like it was built all the way to the other side, so you’re trapped.

“Give me my fucking phone back (Y/n),” he growls. You shake your head.

Just as you deleted where every trace of those pictures you can guess were saved, he’s lunging towards you. And you do the only thing you can think of— kick him in the groin. He falls to his knees right after a curse leaves his lips, crumpling into a ball as he holds that area.

You gasp. “Oh I’m so sorry, you can have your phone back now.” You purposely place the phone near the edge of the dock where he lays and walk away. His hand reaches out for it but, not surprisingly, it falls in the water. “You fuckin’ crazy bitch!” He all but screams, fist hitting the wood of the dock. You roll your eyes and pick your bag up from the picnic table before heading to class.

…

Lisa doesn’t ask you what you did when she came to your dorm in the late afternoon. (It was just you and her, no Krystal).

You shake your head. “I can’t stay in this dorm anymore, Lisa. I was lucky to come back and see my things still intact but she’ll make my life a living hell if I stay, I know it.”

Lisa bites her lip as she looks elsewhere, presumingly thinking. “Well. I have a friend who doesn’t have a roommate right now. She hasn’t for a while, somehow,” you raise a brow, interested. “If you ask me, I think the school gives her extra attention but she denies it every time. She even has one of the big dorms with a kitchen and bathroom, and she turned the extra space into a living room.” Lisa laughs.

“So you think she might let me move in?” You ask hopefully.

“We’re talking about Roseanne here,” she muses. Lisa watches your eyes grow wide, recognition highlighting your features.

You melt into the beanbag chair lazily, looking at the ceiling. “Roseanne is really nice,” you start, and Lisa nods. “But I’m sure she likes her privacy. And me? I’m nosey as hell and loud— unintentionally. What if she thinks I’m annoying? Or what if she remembers how I acted Freshman year and immediately says no? What if she thinks I’m some mean bitch?” You groan, every good trait of yours you can think of is canceled by a bad one.

“Hey,” Lisa raises an eyebrow at you. “Don’t write yourself off yet, you never know. I don’t believe she thinks that either.”

“How do you know?” You question.

Lisa throws her hands up, smiling teasingly. “I don’t, but my words still stand.”

“Yeah, yeah.”

You’re about an hour into a movie when Lisa move’s suddenly. “Shoot,” she says, looking at her watch. “I have to go out for dinner with some of the dance majors, but I’ll bring the roommate thing up to her tomorrow and we’ll see what happens, okay?”

“Yeah. Thanks Lisa.” You hug her goodbye and then with a click of the door she’s gone.

***

True to her words, Lisa seeks out Roseanne in a free time period they share. She had traveled from the new arts building to the old arts building, and hoped to find her there. (A part of her hopes she wasn’t in that creepy building.)

The building’s lights still worked, but there was no one using the classrooms, so dust and spiders made them their homes. You had to have a key to get in the main door, and only one person had it. Lisa walked down the long hallways, jumping at little noises or shadows (including her own), and looking around wearily. Lisa knew Roseanne was slightly odd, maybe that’s why she’s able to be alone in an empty abandoned building.

Further down, she hears it, and makes her way to the soft melody that escapes from a familiar battered oak door. Lisa pokes her head in, and just as she suspected, she was there.

“Why is it that I always find you hiding in here?” Lisa muses as she squeezes past the door frame, blowing out a puff of air. That door only opens so much, and she thinks she might have skinned her knee on the lower hinge. (That’s gonna burn in the shower later…)

Slender fingers once gliding across ivory keys halt their movements. Roseanne rests her hands in her lap and turns to her friend with a smile. “Who said I was hiding? And what if I like being holed up in here?”

Lisa rolled her eyes playfully. “You know what I mean and I know you like being holed up in here.” Looking around, she spoke again, “I see you cleaned up some more and moved things around.”

The room was an old music classroom that was abandoned when classes were moved to a newer building, the old equipment stayed. It was a small room but now that Roseanne had moved and stacked up the old music stands and chairs, it was spacious. The curtains were open and the sun shone through, enhancing the satisfying rustic look of the room. She had to have also dusted and swept the floors since Lisa didn’t sneeze immediately upon walking in. “It looks nice.”

Roseanne hummed, eyes flickering across the painted vines and colorful roses on the piano’s surfaces. “Thank you. But you never come back here without very good reason to, what’s up?”

Lisa shrugged and sat herself on the windowsill. That was true, Lisa doesn’t do spiders, spiderwebs, dust, or creepy, mostly empty hallways. “I missed you, that’s one thing.” Roseanne was in Melbourne on vacation, so they haven’t seen each other since break.

Roseanne’s expression shifted into one of amusement. “I missed you too Lisa. It’s good to be back,” her fingers began picking idly at the piano's edge. “But what else brings you over? I can tell you want to ask me something.”

“Ah, do you remember (Y/n)?” Roseanne nods. “Well, the relationship between her and her current roommate is sour— it’s always been sour if you ask me, so she wants to move dorms.”

“And?”

“I told her that you don’t have a roommate...”

Roseanne knew what Lisa was implying already yet asked her to continue as she found amusement in Lisa’s nervousness. “And would ask if you’d consider letting her move in. But it’s totally okay if she can’t, she knows you like having the privacy.”

Roseanne let out a heavy breath and leaned against the piano, running a hand through her hair as she thought.

Other than some factors, she doesn’t see why she would deny. If she agrees, it would save you the time of being put on a waitlist with the other students who want to move dorms. It could be fun to have a roomate again, she thinks. It’s not like you’re total strangers either, both friends of a friend, Lisa being the link between.

“Okay.” She says.

“Okay?” Lisa repeats.

“I won’t say yes till I talk with her.” Roseanne runs her fingers across the small dips in the piano keys. She’ll have to lay down some groundwork and ask you some questions. The worst thing she wants to do is let someone nasty into her dorm— not that you are…hopefully.

“Oh! We can arrange that, um when did you want to meet up? I can tell her,” Lisa looks happy.

“Tomorrow is fine.”

“Alright then, thank you for considering this.” Roseanne nods and Lisa stands up. “I’ll head back for dance class now,” she says, “Stay safe okay? Watch out for ghosts too— I swear I’m hearing things.” Lisa shivers.

“I will Lisa,” she cocks her head to the side, “don’t get scared walking back.” Roseanne’s teasing earns her an eye roll.

“Yeah, yeah.” After Lisa slips out the room, she waits a few seconds to see if Lisa will come back; she does. Lisa pops her head back through the door and yells, “if you get a call in a few minutes you better answer it!” Lisa may need to call her if she gets scared walking through the hallways.Then she is gone.

Chuckling under her breath, Roseanne scoots back to the edge of the bench, her back straight with her arms relaxed and in front of her, before resuming to play. An upbeat song, she began with and played, before the music slowed to something soft and melancholic, and Roseanne closed her eyes at the sound, allowing herself to be drawn into the world of the music. These keys— any piano keys really— to her, were like a past memory. Something she can fall back on whenever her thoughts get the best of her.

And tomorrow, she’d have to meet up with you.

-

Would you like to continue?

-

Another A/n: Y’all don’t know the hell I went through italicizing words. Like why doesn’t tumblr do that for me? Why don’t you transfer exactly what I write on a google doc here? (😭)

[damnfandomproblems]

That show that is made from people who has the same culture as you so you know it's an obvious shitty propaganda that is common in your country. Then everyone outside your culture watching that show without knowing that specific bad intention of the show and thinking that show was progressive just because it has gay couple in it, even if they embrace problematic and harmful culture. (The show SOTUS is the example of that specific problem)