#Fifth grade was a different time man

[shayminlucario07]

I've just had a really dumb idea

So, I was watching HalfBreadChaos' video on "What is in the Closet Dark World", and when I saw Spamton Neo, I got hit with a realization.

The Mettaton NEO shell that Spamton wears looks a lot like it's made of paper. Specifically, it reminds me of the little dresses drawn on and cut from paper that we used to make for paper dolls in elementary school. (Niche reference, I know, but they're pretty self-explanatory- basically just mannequins made/folded from paper. In my classes in particular, we made versions that were folded paper cups or frogs. It was weird, and also cute.)

HalfBreadChaos, in that video, suggested that the plan for the Mettaton NEO body- which most of us have accepted to have been created by the ghost who became Mettaton in Undertale, Napstablook's cousin (The one we jokingly(?) call Hapstablook)- may have been something drawn on paper, as opposed to a deleted/forgotten file from a paint program, or something along those lines, which many of us thought in the past.

Well. If it WAS something tangible, as opposed to a file from a paint program... it would probably be a drawing on paper. And as HalfBreadChaos suggests in their video, if the basement of the castle is the space between the cabinet and the floor, this drawing, or plan, may have been slipped under the cabinet.

Why is that important?

The only other papers in that room (Aside from the books that Berdly and Noelle brought with them) are the printed-out emails in the trash, which are almost certainly spam emails. And that trash can is the trash zone, where Spamton makes his home. He does sleep in a dumpster- and hides in the dumpster to give us the Thorn Ring for Noelle. So, perhaps the reason he prizes the Mettaton NEO body so much is because, in the Light World, it's the only paper in the room that isn't in the trash- still discarded in a way, possibly even forgotten, but not thrown away; not labeled as valueless.

Does this mean anything? Probably not. But it's a thought I had and I wanted to share it.

[yuwuta]

RODEO STATION, 2 — MEGUMI FUSHIGURO

A collection of you and Megumi through the years, through Gojo’s eyes. 

content, warnings: childhood friends to lovers, canon-adjacent, satoru adopts megumi and tsumiki, reader has a cursed technique sort of delved into here

word count: 2.2k

part ii: you and megumi are ten, tsumiki is eleven, gojo is twenty-ish?, about six or seven months after gojo meets all of you, and adopts megumi and tsumiki. you can read part one here

The moment that Satoru met him, he knew that Megumi was a little troublemaker and there was little he could do to stop that. Satoru didn’t mind for the most part, and he couldn’t blame the kid either—honestly, he was more surprised that Megumi didn’t routinely get himself into more trouble, but he supposes he has you and Tsumiki to thank for that. 

He’d naively believed that you and Tsumiki both played the role of anchoring maternal figure for Megumi, but it only takes a few weeks for Satoru to learn that it’s Tsumiki that serves as the anchor for you two. Satoru then earnestly wonders if you were bullying Megumi with the way you’re able to keep him under your thumb, but when Megumi adamantly refutes this with the nastiest, most offended scowl Satoru’s ever seen on a kid before, he backs off and reasons that this is just how your relationship with Megumi works.

And, as it turns out, Megumi is the only one doing any sort of bullying. He’s ten and Satoru has been to more parent-teacher conferences than any other parent has ever possibly attended in their lifetime. He didn’t even know that it was possible for kid his age to get kicked out of school, especially at this point in the year. There’s only three months left until summer vacation, so Satoru enlists Ieiri’s help in enrolling Megumi into public school to finish out fifth grade. She also reassures him that this separation from you and Tsumiki is temporary, and that you would all be able to attend middle school together again in the fall. 

The major problem then becomes that you all get dismissed at different times. You and Tsumiki used to end your days at the same time, but Tsumiki starts staying late to take piano lessons. However, this is remedied by the mother of a friend of Tsumiki’s, who drives her home afterwards; an older woman that Satoru becomes eternally grateful for. Even so, you’re dismissed thirty minutes before Megumi, and some shuffling has to be done to align your commutes. Satoru knows that the three of you took yourselves to and from school before he came into the picture, and that most kids your age are more than capable getting home on their own, but after you told him that some old man from the Kamo clan came to talk to you after school one day, he can’t help but to worry. 

Satoru isn’t your guardian, not in the way that he is for Megumi and Tsumiki, but that doesn’t mean that he doesn’t feel responsible for you—morally, financially, emotionally, and more importantly, for his own safety because he knows he’d have both Divine Dogs biting at his ankles if something curse-related happened to you and he didn’t do anything to stop it. 

You were currently under the care of your elderly great aunt who hadn’t a shred of cursed energy from what Satoru could tell. He had Principal Yaga do a background check, and found no other sorcerers in your immediate family, nor any traceable Kamo relatives, and more importantly, you didn’t possess any sort of Blood Manipulation technique. Satoru’s seen what you can do so far to control water, has even seen you give the Divine Dogs trouble in a gentle sparring match—you’re impressive, even at your young age, so he can understand why a powerful clan might see the potential in you, but the Kamo clan isn’t historically welcoming of outsiders. If you’re not related to them, he can’t fathom why any member would physically approach you. 

The old man never revealed his name to you, but Satoru’s certain it’s either a clan elder, or the current head himself; neither of which bring him any comfort. In the spirit of their traditional ways, he doubts anyone would actually try to harm you out in the open, but Satoru still wants to keep you on close watch for a little while. He thinks he’s the best man for the job. He’s quickly proven otherwise. 

He exorcises curses with a bit of hastiness and little tact in order to be there when you get dismissed from school. Ieiri says it’s creepy to follow you from a distance, but Satoru is just doing what he can to protect you. If somebody else is following you, he wants to see who they are. They’ll never approach or reveal themselves if he hovers next to you, and if you half the pride that Megumi has, you’d run him out of town if he ticked you off by playing overprotective big brother—so, instead, he positions himself far enough away to observe you, and close enough to defend if need be. 

He never needs to. 

For as wild and boisterous as you are with Megumi and Tsumiki, you follow a simple, quiet after school routine. You walk with Tsumiki and her friends to the west gate to drop them off at piano practice, then cross the street to buy a snack—this differs, but you always get a carton of strawberry milk—and then walk to the train station. It’s a ten minute walk from your school to the station, and a fifteen minute walk from Megumi’s school to the station, which is why Satoru doesn’t quite know how the kid manages to keep you waiting for only seven minutes on average when he already gets out of school thirty minutes after you. 

Once he gets over the initial shock, he can’t help but to be amused. He knows that when Megumi first changed schools, he started meeting you on the train, two stops later—at the one closer to his new school. But in the last week, Megumi has walked himself seventeen blocks east, at what Satoru guesses must be an inhuman pace, just to meet you at the station closest to you. 

When two weeks have passed since the unknown Kamo elder has contacted you, and no other incidents have occurred, Satoru resigns his position as perimeter watchdog. He has a bunch of missions to catch up on anyway, and he figures that you and Megumi are safe in each other’s care for now. 

A few weeks later, after catching up on his assignments, Satoru decides to check back in. He knows he doesn’t have to, but something in his stomach is telling him to. Maybe it has to do with the fact that the curse he fought earlier today had some kind of toxic blood that has him thinking the worst could happen to you, or getting a call that Megumi had been cutting some of his classes, or that he’s tired and delusional and worried and scared, or maybe it’s just his blooming maternal instincts telling him something is wrong, but he rushes to spy on your commute home. 

He’s late. Megumi isn’t with you, and you’re already on the train when he makes it to the station and he can sense two sources of cursed energy trailing way too close behind you just as the train doors shut. His mind is racing irrationally—is this an unusual move by the Kamo clan, or perhaps someone else? Word had certainly gotten around that he’d picked up Toji Fushiguro’s kid, plus another kid with immense cursed potential, and Satoru himself and the Gojo clan have more than enough enemies. Whatever it may be, he doesn’t take his chances, using his newly honed short-range teleportation skills to make it to the next station before the train can. 

He’s panting, thinking about every worst possible scenario at once, wondering how to best deal with whoever or whatever was targeting you, especially in such a crowded place, wondering if you’re safe, if Megumi was safe—why wasn’t he with you? Has someone already gotten to him, too? Was Tsumiki even at piano practice? Oh god, if he hasn’t already been kidnapped, Megumi is totally going to kill him if something happens to you. 

Satoru rushes onto the train as soon as the door opens, eyes wildly scanning for you through the crowd, ready to strike when he finally finds you—seated towards the back of the car, reading the book that Tsumiki had loaned to you, quietly, and both the black and white Divine Dogs sitting on either side of you. 

And Satoru has to laugh at himself. If he’d stopped for even a moment (or if he’d gotten more than two hours worth of sleep in the past three weeks trying to make up all his assignments), he’d have recognized Megumi’s residuals, would have recognized the energy of the dogs, and would have pieced together that there wasn’t a single threatening aura in the vicinity. 

Oopsies. 

“Gojo?” you call to him, not too loud as to not to disturb everyone else’s commute. “How come you’re here?” 

Satoru shuffles through the crowd and holds onto the overhead rail once he’s next to you. The white dog moves to settle underneath your short legs, blinking at him with disinterest. “Got off a little early today, thought I’d surprise you brats, that’s all,” he says, then motions to the dogs next to you, “Where’s Megumi?” 

You blink at him. Satoru knows you probably don’t believe him, but you spare him the embarrassment when you don’t push it further. “He had to make up a credit today, so he’s getting on at the next stop. Do you want a sandwich? They only had ones with peppers today, so Megumi won’t eat it, but Mr. Teuchi gave me two, anyway.” 

“What, is he allergic or something?” Satoru questions, accepting your offer, and the seat next to you when he starts to unwrap the sandwich. 

“No, he’s just picky,” you tell him, closing your book to unwrap yours, too. You’re quiet, taking your first two bites, before you turn to him again, “How did you know Megumi was missing?”

Satoru chokes. It gains him a few concerned stares, and even a pointed ear from the black dog, before he regains his composure. “Um... he tells me usually he follows you home from the other stop, that’s why.” 

“Then why didn’t you try to surprise us at the other stop?”

Satoru pauses again. Since when did ten year olds get so lippy and observant? “I did, but I was late. So I sort of,” Satoru leans down, crinkling the empty sandwich wrapper in his right hand and uses his left to beckon you towards him to whisper, “Teleported here.” He pulls back, prideful, and crosses his legs, “Pretty cool, right?” 

“So, why didn’t you just teleport to the first station when you realized you were going to be late?” You question, mocking his whispering tone when you repeat the word. 

“Hey, you think doing that kind of stuff comes automatically? I can’t just pop up anyplace at any time,” Satoru groans, a bit overdramatically, “Not yet, anyway. I’ll be able to do that soon.” 

You hum, kicking your legs happily as you take another bite out of your snack. “I think I get it. Megumi says it’s hard spreading out and controlling your cursed energy over long distances, but he’s been practicing hard. He can send the dogs way far away from him now.” 

“I see,” Satoru turns his chin down, eyeing the Divine Dogs with a gentle smile. He almost says that it’s easier to send shikigami on their own, especially those like Megumi’s, and particularly when you anchor them to another source of cursed energy such as yourself, but you look way too proud of Megumi for him to burst your bubble. He also declines to say that Megumi probably doesn’t send the dogs to you on days like this just for the sake of practicing. 

A crush isn’t quite exactly the motivation Satoru pictured when he told Megumi he’d have to work hard and get strong, but whatever works, works. 

Ten minutes later, the train comes to a steady halt. Megumi is the first new passenger on board, and unlike Satoru, he doesn’t need to turn his head wildly, every which way to find you. You’re like a beacon to Megumi, he easily finds the both of you in the last seats in the car, and steadily makes his way to you. 

Megumi greets you before he greets Satoru, taking the seat across and facing you before he turns to the taller man with a much less receptive frown, “What are you doing here?” 

“I believe the word you’re looking for is hello, Megumi,” Satoru teases, reaching across to ruffle his already unruly hair. Megumi grumbles, batting his offending hand away.

“Gojo ate your sandwich,” you chirp. 

“What?” Satoru yells, incredulous, “I did not. You gave it to me—tell him!” 

You have much more fun watching Satoru scramble than defending his honor. It’s only when Satoru gives his best pout that you admit to Megumi that you offered up his sandwich, consoling him with the fact that it included his least favorite ingredient and making it up by pulling out two cartons of strawberry milk for him. Megumi accepts them both with quiet thanks, cheeks growing pink to match the cartons, and you smiling widely when he takes his first sip. 

Satoru had a hunch those were for Megumi. So, this isn’t one-sided. Good for you kids. 

It’s another twenty-six minutes before it’s time for you all to get off the train. The Gojo-Fushiguro residence and your great aunt’s house are in opposite directions, but are both just a short five minute journey from the station exit. One you can certainly make on your own, and still, Megumi insists that you let the dogs walk with you and that he’ll release them once you’re home. 

“It’s good practice,” Megumi mumbles, shooing you on your way uphill, “I want to know how long I can keep them out, too.” 

You have that same look on your face that you had earlier, like you don’t quite believe Megumi, but just as with earlier, you don’t say anything, sparing Megumi and Satoru a formal goodbye and a wave before heading home. Satoru and Megumi turn to walk back to their own house, he can’t help but to smile every time Megumi turns his head to look back at your silhouette. 

Satoru decides that you’re not Megumi’s anchor, you’re the lighthouse that guides him to shore, a light that he follows with faith and reason; a safe haven that Megumi seeks to protect. Satoru can admire that, but he wonders what happened that could make the most unruly kid he knows pledge his allegiance like that. Megumi would have refused Satoru’s aid if he hadn’t agreed to let you stay in his life, and although he’d chalked it up to puppy love before, Satoru’s beginning to wonder if there’s anything he, or anyone, even could do to separate the two of you. 

Likely not, he concludes, when two weeks later, your class goes on a field trip and Megumi is the one who comes home exhausted and crashes onto the couch immediately. When Satoru asks, all he gets is a tired grunt; but shortly after Megumi falls asleep, he can feel a few extra shadows at his feet, and a glimpse of the white dog before she completely vanishes into the darkness. 

Satoru chuckles, leaning down to ruffle Megumi’s hair before heading to the kitchen to make a snack for Tsumiki. If this is the rate that Megumi trains to keep his loved ones protected, then Satoru has no worries about him getting strong enough to keep up with him.

[tangledupinyellow]

Conference | Joel Miller X Teacher F!Reader

authors note: Ah!!! I took an unintentional hiatus, it's been so chaotic in my life lately which doesn't need any details. But I am so so so happy to get back to writing and posting my little dumps here, especially now that life's calmed down I can get some more out for the new year!

summary: You are Sarah’s sixth grade teacher and you see Joel show up for the teacher parent conference. It’s your last meeting of the day and of course Joel being Joel, he’s late due to work and he came there in a rush and is still in his dirty little work clothes, which doesn’t leave a good impression on you.

warnings/tags: 18+, no use of y/n, no outbreak au, very slight praise kink, parent/teacher relationship, fingering, desk fucking, nicknames (good girl, darling, baby girl), unprotected piv, spanking, slight breeding kink, creampie

word count: 4.4k

 In annoyance, you look over at the clock once again. It feels like the fifth time you’ve done that in the past five minutes. You rubbed your eyes with a groan and lined up the papers on your desk yet again as if you hadn’t already done that ten times before while you’d been waiting.

You tapped your fingers on your desk, trying your best to stay patient. You had decided that you would stay here for another ten minutes or so, making it twenty minutes of waiting in total, before you would call it a night and head back home.

It was the end of the second-semester conference, and you had spent your evenings sitting down with the parents of your students to discuss any concerns you may have about their child. And with this next conference you had coming up, you had more concerns about the parent than the child itself. You had more complaints about them, as well. And being incredibly late was one of them.

Being even five minutes late would have been something you would let slide, but for something that has gone on for nearly twenty minutes, you weren’t sure if waiting would be worth it anymore. You could just give him a call that you would assume would bring you straight to voicemail, and you’ll give the one-sided conference there. 

What made you even more irritated was the fact that these meetings never took more than ten minutes, and you couldn’t understand why a parent couldn’t take a measly ten minutes out of their day to check up on how their student is doing while they’re at school.

But after checking who you were supposed to meet with at this very moment, you couldn’t help but be surprised.

Joel Miller was supposed to be here nearly an hour to talk about his daughter Sarah, one of your favorite students. You knew you weren’t technically supposed to have a favorite student, but you made an exception for Sarah. She was very wise beyond her years and quick-witted, almost like a mini adult. You couldn’t help but have a bit of a sweet spot for the kid.

You would have thought that with a kid like that, a parent would look forward to meeting with their teacher just to hear about how wonderful their child has been doing. But apparently, with Joel Miller, it was a different story.

You gave yourself an extra five minutes before you would just pack up your things and leave. You didn’t have time for this, and you already gave this man more than enough of your time this evening.

Your eyes shot over to your classroom door when you heard a knock followed by a man walking in and closing the door behind him.

“I wanna start off by apologizin’,” He began immediately and walked over to the empty chair on the opposite side of your desk that you had reserved for the parents, “Had’ta work a bit of overtime, but I came as fast as I could. Don’t wanna know how many stop lights I ran on my way to get here.” He chuckled and shook his head before taking a seat across from you.

“It’s nice to see you made it, Joel.” You greeted him before pulling out Sarah’s files from your desk to go over with him.

You could tell he had just gotten off work and clearly didn’t get the chance to stop at home first to freshen up or get changed. There were still dirt stains on his denim jeans, and his hair was a tousled mess. But then again, this was how you were used to seeing Joel. Out of all the years you’ve been teaching his daughter Sarah, you’ve rarely seen him dress up more than a flannel and a pair of jeans. 

You’ve only seen him dress up three times for as long as you knew him when the two of you went on a few casual dates. That was before you started teaching his daughter. While you had a genuinely good time with Joel those three times you went out, you didn’t know if you could continue seeing him after finding out that you would be teaching his daughter. Even though you did like him and wanted to continue the small relationship that the two of you had blossomed, you felt it would be too awkward with the whole ‘you being his daughter’s teacher’ thing.

So, you had to cut it off with him and keep the relationship between the two of you strictly professional.

“Wouldn’t miss it for the world.” Joel grinned and got comfortable in his seat, scooting it closer to the desk while you set Sarah’s files down.

“Almost left. I wasn’t sure if you were going to show up or not.” You laughed quietly with a shake of your head and opened up the folder filled with Sarah’s worksheets and essays she had completed the previous semester.

“Again, I wouldn’t miss it,” Joel repeated, “I’ll take any chance to get to be able to see ya again, even if it’s just you telling me how Sarah’s been incredible these past few months.” He chuckled, a hint of flirting in his voice that you tried to brush off.

It wasn’t unusual for him to flirt with you, for you were the one who cut things off even when he didn’t want to. There were still some feelings there that he had for you, and he hated that he couldn’t express them. He almost felt like a teenage boy. The fact that he couldn’t convey his feelings towards you made him want to do it even more, just to see if you’d crack one of these days.

You gave him a knowing look with a tilt of your head, almost acting like a playful warning, before pulling out one of Sarah’s most recent science essays to review with him.

“Well, I’m sure you wouldn’t be surprised to hear that Sarah’s at the top of my class this semester. She’s tested very high, and her writing skills are well above average for her grade level.” You give him a smile and nod before pointing out some of the highlights you found in her essay.

Joel listened with a permanent smile on his lips as he listened to you compliment his daughter, all things that he’d heard many times before from past teachers. He didn’t even know how Sarah was his daughter or how she was even related to him at that. He was never anywhere near as intelligent as she was when he was in school, and she was much brighter than he ever was. He was incredibly proud of her, as proud of a daughter as a father could be. 

“You’re right. I ain’t all that surprised.” Joel said through a chuckle and a shake of his head. 

You laughed along with him and tucked her essay back into her folder before setting it back down on top of your desk, “And I’m sure you’ve already heard this before, but Sarah really is a pleasure to have in my class. Helps keep me sane sometimes.” You joked, laughing a bit more with the man before you.

Even though you had to cut things off with Joel, you were glad that it didn’t make things awkward in meetings like this, which was something you worried about once you found out that you were going to be teaching his daughter. Thankfully for the both of you, you were able to get along just as well as you had when you first met.

“Every single one of these conference things I go to I hear the same ol’ thing,” Joel laughed and ran a hand through his messy and disheveled hair from a days worth of hard work, “Sometimes I don’t know how that girl is related t’me. Makes me proud every damn day though, that’s for sure.”

“I’m glad to hear that. She talks about you often.” You mentioned and organized her folder with all of your other students.

“She does?” Joel asked with a curious eyebrow raised.

“Mhm,” You hum, “She loves talking about you. You have a bigger impact on her life than you may think, Mr. Miller.” You smile at him and stand up from your chair, giving a silent end to the conference, for you didn’t have much else you had to tell him. You both knew his daughter was an excellent student and absolutely thrived in your class. There was nothing much else to discuss.

Joel couldn’t help but smile at your words, feeling his heart warm up in his chest as you spoke. He loved his daughter so much, but knowing that she even still liked him in her tween years was a big deal to him. It made him feel that even though he was a single father and that was as hard as all hell can be, he was succeeding at it. He watched you stand up and slowly followed your actions.

You cleared your throat and inhaled, grabbing your purse as you prepared to say your goodbyes. You didn’t want this conference to be awkward, but just being in the same room with him made you feel vulnerable, and you weren’t sure you could hide that very well from him.

“Well, Mr. Miller, it was very nice to see you again.” You nodded in his direction.

“You can call me Joel, y’know,” He chuckled with a shake of his head, “Just because we had to end things in the past doesn’t mean you need to be all formal.” The smile never left his face as he spoke, but you could feel your heart sink in his chest the moment he had brought it up.

You were hoping that the two of you would be able to move past it or not mention it at all during this little parent-teacher conference meeting. And right when you thought it was all going well and you said your goodbyes, he had to go right ahead and make it awkward for you.

“Right, my apologies, Joel,” You corrected yourself, the tense feeling in your chest still not disappearing, “I’ll see you around.”

Joel watched as you turned to leave towards the door but quickly stopped you before you could make another move, “Wait.”

There was that tense feeling in your chest all over again.

With yet another deep breath, you slowly turned to face him, “Do you have any questions for me, Mr- ..Joel? Any questions about Sarah, or..?” Your voice sounded weaker than you intended it to be.

“Well, there is something that I’ve been meanin’ to ask ya. Not about Sarah. I already know that she’s been doin’ just fine in this class.” He began.

“I’m only here to talk about Sarah and give you her progress report for the semester. I’m sorry.” You tried to cut him off before he got too deep into it. You had a gut feeling that you knew where he would be trying to get at if you didn’t stop him ahead of time. And you have already made yourself a personal vow that you would never mix your love life with your professional life. Even though Joel Miller made that so damn hard to do.

Joel furrowed his eyebrows as he stared at you in silence for a moment, almost as though you had said something wrong. And by this look he was giving you, you were kind of worried that you had. But that worry was quickly washed away once a chuckle escaped his lips.

“Darlin’, I’m more than just Sarah’s father. And you’re more than just Sarah’s teacher. I think we both know that now, don’t we?” A smirk crept up on the corner of his lips while his hand rested on top of yours.

“Mr. Miller, I don’t need you to be talking to me like I’m-”

He cut you off with your name. It shuts you up almost immediately.

“What I’m trying to get at here is that I miss you. I miss being with ya. Don’t think you can punish me for that, sweetheart.” Joel shook his head and gave your hand a squeeze before moving it back down to his side.

You took a deep breath, trying to collect your thoughts before speaking, “Joel, it was fun being with you, but I can’t-”

“Why not.” He interrupted yet again, knowing just what you were about to say.

“You know why. Because of Sarah.” You kept it short, for he already knew the reasoning behind your rejections.

“What about Sarah?” The man was persistent, “Sarah loves you. She adores you as a teacher and talks about you and this class all the damn time,” He couldn’t help but chuckle as he spoke, “Now tell me, why would it be so bad seeing me?” His eyes bore into yours.

“It’s unprofessional..” you tried to reason.

“Unprofessional, hm?” Joel repeated and gave you a small smile, “Alright then. If you really don’t want me anymore, I won’t push it. But it was really nice seein’ ya again, sweetheart.” He winked in your direction before heading over to the door.

“Wait.” You surprised even yourself by speaking up.

Joel hummed and looked back over at you, his hand on the doorknob while waiting for you to start talking.

Your breath was shaky as you tried to calm your nerves, looking between down at your lap and over at Joel, “Come.. come here, please.” You stuttered over your words and motioned your head over to the empty seat across from your own.

Joel gladly did as you said and filled that empty seat.

The two of you stared at each other in silence for a moment, both of you anticipating to see who would speak up first. You never broke contact with his eyes, the hazel specks bringing you back to the few days and nights the two of you spent with one another. And you hated to admit it, but having him alone in a room like this made you want to rip off that dirty flannel right off and claim his lips with your own. Somehow, you had managed to keep it all under control. But the longer he stayed, the harder it was to resist that urge.

“Yes?” Joel responded simply before continuing, “Is there more of Sarah’s papers that you want to go over with me or…?” his voice trailed off with a slight raise of his eyebrow, seeming as though he already knew the answer but just wanted to play this little game with you.

And what got to you was that he was right. Both you and Joel knew that you didn’t call him back over just to go over a couple more of Sarah’s papers.

You weren’t sure how to respond. But thankfully, Joel took care of that for you just fine.

“That’s not it, is it?” Joel’s voice grew quieter as he stood up from the chair once he saw you shake your head slowly.

The tension in the room was growing so thick that you could cut it with a knife as he walked over to your chair, leaning over so his breath was just hitting the skin on the back of your ear, “You want something a little more, don’t ya..” he whispered, the hot breath on your ear causing shivers to go down your spine.

All you could do was nod as you involuntarily leaned your head back and fluttered your eyes shut. He still knew how to get such a reaction from you.

“Yeah, s’what I thought.” Joel grinned with a soft tone in his voice.

His hand slowly moved down to your shoulder, goosebumps arising underneath your blouse. You never thought you would miss the feeling of Joel Miller touching you on the shoulder so much. Especially when all he did was touch you on your covered shoulder.

“We really shouldn’t be doing this, Joel,” You tried to talk some sense into him, more trying to talk some sense into yourself. You knew that you wanted this. He knew that you wanted this, based on your reaction that you would give him with every little touch of his hand, “We shouldn’t…” you tried repeating, your voice cracking just slightly when his hand moved down from your shoulder to your right breast, giving it a firm squeeze. Your mind was working against itself, debating over right or wrong. But when his strong hands gripped you like that, as if you were all his, you couldn’t resist.

You couldn’t help the moan that left your lips as he fondled your breast, “Just tell me if you want me or not, sweetheart, simple as that.” he whispered in your ear. His breath on your sensitive skin was enough to get your heart rate going.

“Keep going.” You mustered out, taking a deep breath and watching your chest rise and fall.

Joel couldn’t help but smirk at your words as he moved his hand away from your breast and lowered to your stomach, “Are the doors locked?” He whispered, glancing over at the door that attached your classroom to the hallway.

“I’m already past hours. We should be fine.” You whispered. That was enough of an answer for him as he pushed his hand down your leggings to cup you through your underwear, making you gasp at the contact.

“Already so wet for me?” Joel chuckled and shook his head as he rubbed circles around your clit through your underwear, “Such a good girl, just like I remember.” He praised, placing kisses on your jaw and your neck.

You moaned at his words. Hearing him call you a good girl made your panties even wetter if it were possible. Your mind kept screaming at you, trying to remind you why you had stopped seeing him in the first place. You were his daughter’s teacher, for crying out loud. You didn’t want to complicate things anymore. But when he kept circling your clit with his two fingers, all of those thoughts seemed to disappear in a cloudy fog. All you could focus on was the sensation.

You bit down on your lower lip to try and hide in your moans, your hips bucking up to his fingers at the same time. The motion of your hips caused a low chuckle to escape from Joel’s lips as he continued to rub you at the same pace, savoring how much you seemed to be enjoying his delicate and practiced touch.

Joel never broke eye contact with you as he slid one of his fingers, then two, into your now soaked pussy. He groaned quietly and closed his eyes for a short moment at the feeling of your tight pussy, just imagining how it would feel like to have you squeezing around his dick.

A gasp turned moan left your lips as he started moving his fingers in and out of your pussy. He stared into his eyes, trying to ignore the fact that his jeans were currently restricting his near painful erection. Just the sight of you staring up at him from your chair with your mouth slightly agape made him want to just bend you right over your desk and fuck that sweet pussy of yours. The image of you screaming his name and looking up at him while he fucked you from behind over your desk burned in his brain. Why keep it just a little fantasy?

“Stand up.” Joel demanded and swiftly removed his now wet fingers; the emptiness was soon followed by an intense yearning for something more.

Your mind was hazy with lust while you did just as he directed. You stared at him, but his eyes were focused on your chest, which was moving up and down slightly in both anticipation and excitement.

“Take off your shirt.” Was his next demand, very much to the point. But his heart was going just as fast as yours.

You didn’t waste another second as you removed your shirt over your head while he unbuckled his belt at the same time, his eyes watching you the entire time. Knowing that he was practically watching your every move made you tingle in excitement.

Joel licked his lower lip as he watched you, letting out an involuntary groan. You could hear the zipper of his pants when he zipped them down, and he slowly walked up behind you. His calloused hands gently unhooked your bra, his touch surprisingly tender. 

He caressed your sides, slowly moving down to your ass. His touch remained gentle, and you felt like you were in the arms of a loved one, a husband you’d been married to for years, perhaps. You were quickly taken aback, however, when he gripped onto your hips and bent you over your desk. You held onto your desk and let out a moan of both pleasure and surprise. 

“Can’t wait to fuck this pussy.” Joel mumbled under his breath, but just loud enough for you to hear.

“I need you inside of me, Joel,” You practically begged him, your head resting on its side on your desk, “Need you so bad.” Your voice was nearly a whimper at this point.

Joel couldn’t even help but smirk as he heard your pleas, which were all for him and no one but him. The sound of you begging for him made his cock throb in his jeans. He quickly let himself free, pulling his jeans and underwear down and letting them fall down to his ankles. 

He pulled down your leggings just as fast, pushing your underwear off to the side to reveal your glistening pussy, wet and ready just for him.

“So, so pretty darlin’..” Joel praised with a shake of his head, admiring the sight for just a moment as he stroked his cock, giving it a few good pumps before pushing himself inside of you.

His fingers gently dug into your hips as he slowly and carefully slid his entire length inside of you, whispering quiet praises of how you were such a good girl for him in your ear. With how wet you were for him, he was able to get inside of you relatively easily. The feeling of his dick finally being inside of you was indescribable. He wasn’t able to stop imagining what it must feel like ever since he first walked into your classroom.

“That’s it.” Joel cooed and rubbed your hips before slowly entering in and out of you, starting his thrusts at a slower pace to ease you into it a little bit more.

Soft and strangled moans were caught in your throat as he took control, your eyes slowly starting to flutter shut at the feeling of being so full. Gradually, his thrusts became faster and faster as his breathing increased. His own groans overpowered yours, much to his dismay.

A quick smack was laid on your bare ass, earning a quick and loud moan from you, one that was much louder than you expected.

“I want to hear you, baby girl. Want to hear how good I’m makin’ ya feel.” Joel said between huffs and groans, his thrusts never slowing down but increasing in speed and intensity.

You let your mouth and throat relax at his request, not even bothering to hide your moans and whimpers. The building was completely empty at this point. Nobody in their right mind would still be here at these late hours of the night except for the two of you.

“Mmm..” Joel groaned and nodded, keeping a rhythmic pace with his thrusts while he held onto your hips, “Love hearing you like that..” he grunted, his voice staggered as he thrust in and out of you.

“Love you fucking me like this, Joel... Goddamn, I love it so much.” You moaned and let out a quiet yelp as he spanked your ass again, the slap of skin against skin echoing in the room. You moaned even louder at the contact.

“Me too... Fuck! Me too..” Joel repeated, his words weakening as he felt himself getting closer to the finish line. He bent his body forward while holding onto your hips, resting his head in the crook of your neck, leaving messy bites and kisses all along your skin, “So close, mmm... So fuckin’ close, baby..” He whispered, his thrusts getting messier with more fervor.

He slowly looked back at you, taking a good look at your messy hair that covered your face while you were being fucked by him. Your mouth was agape, your eyes were closed, and soft moans left your soft lips. And it was all for him... All of this was all for him…

“Fuck!” He squeezed his eyes shut as he came, pulling your hips in closer to him to get as deep inside you as he possibly could.

That was what brought you over the edge. You were surprised to have finished so quickly, or even at all, for that matter. But the way he grabbed your hips to be as close to you as possible, to fill you up as much as he could, sent you waves of euphoria. Loud moans of his name filled the room, followed by a lot of heavy breathing.

His sweaty body hovered over yours as he slowly removed himself from inside of you. That feeling of emptiness in your pussy was there once again. 

Joel kissed the top of your head and stood back up to put his jeans back on, leaving you over the desk to try and recover from your orgasm, your heart still pounding.

“Fuck..” Joel whispered breathily as he buckled up his belt, looking over at you as you tried to recover yourself from off of your desk, your legs struggling to keep stability.

“Yeah..” You chuckled in agreement and took a deep breath, slowly sitting back down in your desk chair.

“So,” Joel began and leaned over to get closer to you, his elbows resting on the desk, “Are you free this weekend? Sunday?”

You couldn’t help but smirk, already knowing where he was trying to go with this request, “Are you trying to ask me out on a date, Mr. Miller?” You inquired knowingly.

“I may be,” He smiled charmingly and stood up. “Depends on your answer.”

“Well, in that case,” You paused and stood up from your chair, pressing a cheeky kiss to his lips, “I’ll see you on Sunday. Don’t be late.”

[perictione00]

She's a Man-eater

Pairing: Gojo Satoru x reader

Warnings: MDNI, sub! gojo satoru, dom! reader, smut, degradation, heavy edging and overstimulation, cock stepping, choking, age difference(7-years, reader is older), oral sex, sounding, riding, unprotected sex.

Jujutsu Kaisen Masterlist

"Hngh...please...I need you", his desperation was so satisfying. He looked so beautiful crawling towards you, naked, with a collar on his neck with your name engraved on it.

"But we had a deal, no? You cum five times and I'll treat you", you coo. Breaking someone's body has become your new favorite hobby. To get them so high that normal never works for them. That they come crawling back to you.

"Haah...ngh...mmf...I can't anymore, please." You understand now why men like to oppress women. Power is a fucking drug, and controlling someone stimulates it.

"Then I'm afraid I can't help you, Satoru", you said, sounding disappointed, causing him to start stroking his already twitching cock. With his head thrown back, sweat beads covered his flushed face as he continued jerking himself off, moaning wildly, until he came for the fifth time in the same night.

What a sight. So strong yet so fragile—such a complaint one. Easy to mold and easy to manipulate. Watery blue eyes stared at you with hope. He was such a good pet. He deserved a reward for his hard work. So you took off your very wet panties and threw them to the other side of the room.

"Good boy, now go fetch."

Without wasting a second, Satoru fetched your panties on all fours. Sniffing it, he lapped on it and drooled at your taste. You watched him as he buried his face in your panties and continued groaning loudly. His hips bucked up instinctively, fucking into nothingness to seek any sort of friction to calm his now-hardening dick.

"More...I want more", Satoru begged as he moved towards your lap.

"Yeah? Tell me, will you do anything for me?", you questioned affectionately as you slid your hands and ruffled his disheveled hair.

"Ya...yes, anything. I can d-do any and everything for you", he answered, sounding breathless.

Yanking him back by the hair, you opened your legs and forced his face into your pussy. While he sucked on your clit, you noticed how he kept glancing at your moaning form. It was obvious that he wanted to feel validated by pleasing you. The poor thing was in love with you; the least you could do was grind on his face and use him. So you used his nose to gain some roughness and pulled on his hair as his tongue slurped on your wetness. Getting suffocated by your thighs drove Satoru to the brink, and his sensitive cock leaked for the sixth time. But he was so drunk on you. So much so that he couldn't stop and kept fucking your hole till you came.

"If you do it right, I'll reward you with a truffle cake", you declared to a ten-year-old who was being more annoying than usual. Gojo Satoru was the new big thing in the Jujutsu world, and although he was just a child, he was already much better than most of the second-grade sorcerers. And since he was destined to be the strongest, a majority of his time was consumed in practicing, and that too with well-versed sorcerers like yourself.

"Liar. You said that the last time too and didn't bring me any", the lil guy yelled as he continued pouting.

"That was because you literally announced it to the whole house. You think anyone here would lemme feed you, a child, a whole cake?", you retorted, closing the distance between you.

"I'm not a child. I defeated two of your classmates, remember", he scoffed.

"God, I don't have time for this. Listen, Satoru, if you don't do this, forget the cake; I'm never bringing anything for you, and then you can have a great time practicing with Daddy too", you were sure this threat was enough to keep him in check. It was your favorite weapon against him. And when you saw his frowning form turning back to practice, you knew it had hit the right mark.

Gojo had developed a sweet tooth early on because of your constant rewards after practice sessions. It was easier. Satoru already knew well that he was stronger than an average person; hence, with all his sass, he avoided training, even with you. If it was up to him, he would only play with you. So you introduced him to the world of sweets, and the rest is history. Growing up with Satoru, you knew your ways with him. To you, rather than a little brother that you never asked for, he was more like an asset who was the key to your goal. It worked out well. He became the ace up your sleeve, and you became his favorite company.

Coming from a non-sorcerer family, at the age of 6, you immediately piqued the interests of many families with your unexpectedly strong cursed technique, one of them being the Gojo clan. Initially, people thought it was for the sake of marrying you off to someone within the clan, but it surprised everyone when the head of the clan announced his goal of sponsoring your education until you were an adult. What seemed like a random play turned out to be a well-thought-out scheme to have stronger allies. For several hundred years, no one in the Gojo family had inherited both the six eyes and the limitless techniques, portraying the clan as weaker among the Big three families, so it was better to have an active margin to keep the center intact. That was the reason why you grew up learning from the best of the best and became a first-grade sorcerer by the age of 14. Which was why you ended up training the future of the clan. Or maybe the real deal was that the insolent brat wouldn't practice with anyone other than you.

Before his birth, you were the apple of everyone's eye, including all the servants and his father. It all changed, though—after his birth, that is. From the moment Gojo Satoru was born, his mere existence was celebrated; he was treated like a king, but you, on the other hand, were neglected. Oh, how the mighty had fallen. You were a child. With all the attention that you desperately craved, snatched away so suddenly, you couldn't help but feel jealous and envy the blue-eyed devil who had hypnotized every sane adult in the clan. You were there first, then why were you not as loved as he was? He was such a burden, a crybaby who couldn't fend for himself and had to be under surveillance at all times. You were forced to be by his side to keep track of his needs, which made you more hostile towards him. Fortunately, you warmed up to him as time went on. The hostility melted into care as you looked after the little demon who was always following you, crawling on all fours, when he always cried in your absence, and when instead of gibberish, his first words turned out to be your name.

The jujutsu world is cruel, and it's worse if you're a woman. The pathetic mentality of a few old geezers was enough to drive out women from this field. With the misconduct of power, the status of women was intentionally devalued through a sequence of meaningless regulations. For something so basic, women had to prove themselves worth it in order to be given the same treatment and respect as any other man. Women were associated with childrearing and bearing. And if they somehow turned out to be more than what was expected of them, the scope of their development is reduced. You learned it a little too late.

"Don't be greedy now. Grade 1 is as far as you go. I'm sure the clan backing you up wouldn't like that either. You're 15, right? A looker that's for sure. Ripe age. About time you start getting marriage offers, no?"

"If only you didn't have a mouth on you. Well, I'm sure I can fuck it out of you."

"Special grade!? Even if all of us in the room used you, there's no chance you're ever getting there."

"Give up on that impossible dream of yours. Isn't it too much for you to carry on as a grade 1 anyways?"

"Don't make me laugh."

"All I see is a hole inviting me to fuck. Come on, lemme help you discover all you're good for."

"Grade 1? Who did you fuck to get there? The clan head? Are the rumors true? I've heard he has a thing for young girls. I can see why he would give in to you, though."

That's how it was and will always be. In a world dominated by men, you will never be able to achieve what your heart longs for. You will never be the strongest. You will have to act according to their will and listen to the crap that comes out of their mouths. It was not fair. You were dragged into this world without consent, and now that you finally accept reality and try to be something more, they tell you that it was never possible. Hypocrites. You were not a slave. If you were being objectified by a bunch of old men, you might as well use them to get what you want. You can give them a sense of control and suck them dry of their powers. Use them until they serve your desires, and throw them away the moment you're done. It is okay if you can't be the strongest; you can always be with the strongest.

Gojo Satoru was the strongest sorcerer. He could have anything he wished for, yet he couldn't have you. On his 7th birthday, he declared in front of all the maids that he'd marry you and have about a hundred kids with you. His confession was met with a few chuckles and pity, but he was sure of his resolve. On the same day, you skipped practice sessions to meet with some dirt from your class and wished him a happy birthday minutes before his birthday ended. Let's just say that an angry Satoru melted from your apology, which consisted of a customized Digimon watch, his favorite pastries, and a peck to his cheek.

To him, you were the prettiest girl. And age was just a number. He just needed to grow up faster and be taller to be with you. You were the only one who treated him like a normal human. And the only one who genuinely wished the best for him and cared for him without any malicious or hidden intention. However, nothing had prepared him for your exit from the household on your eighteenth birthday. He was dumbfounded when you told him the same. He remembers crying and begging you to stay with him—not that it changed your decision, but you did promise to meet him every week, which was not enough for him.

Time went by, and Gojo Satoru realized that he wanted you all for himself. You were famous not only for your capabilities and beauty but also for your infamous relationships. He recalls how one of the Zenin clan men fell head over heels for you and took his own life because he couldn't have you. He also recalls how a senior representative of the Kamo clan went crazy after you left him and the stories of countless men who were doomed to the same fate. You were magical, and those low lives weren't your equals. Of course, you wouldn't settle for them; you were way too good for them. That's why he wants to become strong and be of any worth to you.

You came back to the house once, after 5 years, when you were accused of assassinating a higher-up, and somehow, after just two hours in his father's room, you were announced to be not guilty a day later. On that very day, you hugged him for the first time while comforting him about the incident with the sorcerer killer as he smelled his father's cologne on you. If he wasn't bound by relationships, he was sure that he would have killed his own father in a heartbeat.

Later that year, he confessed his love for you on your 23rd birthday, and you shot him down instantly. Calling him a child and whatnot. He wasn't immature; he was just a bit overly enthusiastic but not impulsive. Maybe it was just about his age. That's what he told himself until you rejected him again and again and again. For the first time, he saw the distance between you both. How you were climbing up the status ladder in the Jujutsu hierarchy and how the number of your lovers was increasing with every passing month. Something snapped inside him as realization hit him, and at the young age of 16, he lost his virginity to a housemaid his age.

You had successfully infiltrated all the major clans except for the Gojo clan. You were not going to infiltrate that clan; you had decided to own it. Although latent, your influence was more than a lot of high-ups combined. But of course you wouldn't rub it on everyone's faces; you didn't need to hurt their egos to feel your worth anymore. You just needed to act submissive and poised; that would do the trick. Nobody needed to know that all the cards were in your favor and that you were the real puppeteer.

When it came to the Gojo clan, you heard here and there that your little prince had learned to fuck around. It was about time he was tamed. So on his 19th birthday, you rewarded him with a gift of a lifetime.

"No...shit... please-aahh...it won't fit, please", Satoru mumbled as tears streamed down his flushed face.

"It will. You will make it fit for me, right?", you whispered and resumed kissing him down his neck, stopping only to abuse his hard nipples. He was a moaning mess, trembling with every movement, cringing at the sharp but pleasurable pain as you continued inserting a sounding rod in his penis.

You stood up to admire your artwork once you were done. No man has ever looked so beautiful. Gojo Satoru was kneeling in front of you, twitching like an insect, crying, and losing himself to you. He was so submissive, so perfect. You were going to take your sweet time devouring him.

You dragged your foot over to his cock and asked him, "What do you say, Satoru? Should I step on it?"

He was barely able to make a coherent sentence as you toyed with his cock while the pressure of the inserted rod edged him to the highest degree. Just when he thought it couldn't get any better, you took off your panties and stuffed them in his mouth. You were left with nothing but your bra; however, you unhooked them the moment an idea popped up in your mind. Tying them around Satoru's neck, you pulled on em, making him choke. Suddenly, he looked like every man who had wronged you, underestimated you, and molested you. He looked heavenly as he struggled to breathe, and Gojo would be lying if he said that he didn't enjoy life slipping out of him just a bit. When he was expecting you to finally take the rod out, you laid him down and positioned yourself on his dick.

You teased yourself with the cold metal end of the rod and slowly sank down Satoru's length. You looked down only to see him blabbering and moaning uncontrollably. His teary blue eyes and instant desperation to rut into you were painted all over his face. He tried thrusting into you, only to feel overwhelmed by the rod. You started bouncing on his cock and playing with your nipples. It would be an understatement to say that Satoru was hypnotized by you. He was enamoured by you. In this moment, you looked like an absolute goddess, and he was ready to lose himself in you. Your walls were gripping onto his length so tightly that he felt lightheaded. You continued grinding on his cock as you reached your orgasm. Getting off immediately to take his cock in your mouth and tease him a bit more.

"Are you my whore, Satoru?", you asked as you squeezed his balls. Had you broken him? Because it looked like he was too far gone. Did he stop working?

"Yes, I'm ya-your wh...whore".

You smirked. It was done. It's easy to break them when they're young, just like they broke you. You bobbed your head on his dick, sucking on his prominent veins and slurping some globs of his semen. Then, all of a sudden, you harshly took out the sounding rod, and with that, Satoru reached his orgasm with a high-pitched moan. But you didn't stop, not yet. You continued sucking on his member, taking in all of his jizz. Without a second thought, you sealed the deal as you spat his cum into his mouth and kissed him deeply. He was yours now, and so was his clan.

"I love you."

As if you didn't know that already. It's okay, though you'll entertain him.

"Yeah, let's do it again. This time, I'll let you breed me."

Part 2

[intoxicated-chan]

𝐂𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝟐 ║ ❝𝐘𝐨𝐮❜𝐯𝐞 𝐈𝐧𝐝𝐢𝐜𝐚𝐭𝐞𝐝 𝐘𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐈𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐞𝐬𝐭❞

(A/n) ➳ I’m planning for the next chapter to be a longer one, I’m working on my writing on smut and testing out a couple of things. If you guys wanna be added to the Taglist you can check it out HERE.

Word Count ➳ 1.3k

Content Warnings ➳ Sexual content, p-in-v, overstimulation, swearing, praising, pet names (darlin’), mentions of dangerous situations, TERRIBLE FLIRTING…

JUDAS Masterlist

YOU REMEMBERED ROCKING YOUR HIPS BACK AND FORTH.

Throwing your head back as your mouth opened to let out another loud moan as your orgasm came crashing down on you.

You must’ve been on the fifth… Seventh? Maybe more? You lost count, Daryl made you lose count.

He was brutal, ruthless, fucking you over and over again. Yet you had no complaints.

All night, you were worried about something you shouldn’t have to be worried about. He made you lose your mind, losing yourself, and letting go in the pleasure.

“Let me hear ya.”

“Gotta be patient for me.”

“Jus’ like tha’.”

“Doin’ a good job for me.”

Your body went limp for a second but it didn’t stop Daryl from slowing down, he kept your sweaty body close to his, thrusting his hips up as his arms wrapped around you.

“Daryl!” You whined, chanting his name like a mantra.

“Goin’ weak on me?” He grunted.

You attempted to shake your head, your no getting cut off by another gasp.

“One more, gimme one more.” As if he didn’t say that hours ago. Daryl knew what he was doing, driving you to the edge each time.

Daryl pushed you onto your back, your head hanging off the bed, his hands moved to clutch your waist.

Your hands come to his chest, hooking your legs around him. “Please, Daryl!” Starting to feel overwhelmed.

“Ya can take it, darlin’.”

You sat at the table, a cup of freshly brewed coffee in your hands. Daryl left in the early hours of the morning, giving you a vague answer as he left your apartment.

Amy came into the kitchen, as she had come over to your place an hour after Daryl left. She saw you sitting in silence but she could see it in your eyes.

“So, spill it.” Amy smirked, pouring herself a cup of coffee from the pot. “How was the night with Mr. Leather jacket mysterious man?”

You let out a small laugh, feeling your face warm up. “He was… Different. Excitin’. He ain’t like anyone before.”

Any leaned against the counter, bringing the hot cup to her lips, careful not to burn herself. “Different how?”

You paused, trying to find the right words. “He’s… He’s unpredictable. B-But in a good way! It brings this energy into my life, fillin’ what was missin’ in my life.”

Amy lifted an eyebrow. “All that from one night? A couple of hours?” Her voice filled with concern and suspicion. “And Shane? He’s crazy about you.”

“I-I know, but I know if I’m with Shane. It’ll be somethin’ I don’t want to settle, especially settle for him. I don’t want that.”

Amy slowly nodded. “But (Y/n), I’ve seen too many girls in my college choose the adrenaline life over a safety net given to them and most of the time, it doesn't end well.”

You opened your mouth to speak but Amy’s groan interrupted you. “Shit. I gotta go before my professor docks my damn grades.” She took the cup with her as she rushed to your door. “Remember! Tell Shane you don’t want him!”

“I’ll try!”

“You will! I don’t wanna hear you complaining about him!”

You happily waved her off, letting her leave with your cup. But you knew she would come back with it, wouldn’t be the first time.

You stood with a huff, walking to the kitchen to dump the rest of your coffee down the kitchen drain.

You turned on the faucet to wash the cup, a knock startling you. You turned the faucet off and headed to your door to look through the peephole.

You grumbled, seeing Shane on the other side. You debated for a moment but decided to open the door to him.

“Hey.” Shane greeted you, his hat in his hands. It seemed like he was fumbling with it.

“What are you doin’ here Shane?” You asked him. “Thought you had work.”

“I was in the neighborhood. Did you get my voicemail?”

Right… He was calling you back when you were in the club, probably calling you when you were getting screwed by Daryl.

“Sorry. I had a rough night.”

“Is it alright if I come in? I jus’ wanna talk.”

You stepped aside, letting him come in and take a seat at the table. You closed the door and locked it.

You sat as well, feeling the atmosphere become tense. You were unsure how to start the conversation or if you wanted to talk at all.

Shane cleared his throat, setting his hat down on the table. “I, uh, wanted to talk to ‘bout the yesterday mornin’.”

“Right…” You knew where the conversation was going to go or how it was going to end. Better to say it now, you don’t want this biting you in the ass. “Shane-”

“Maybe they’re onto somethin’.” Shane immediately said, leaning in. “We’ve known each other for so long. I care ‘bout you, (Y/n).” He then took your hand, holding it tightly. “I want my future to have you in it.”

Your eyes shifted around the room, Shane’s eyes to the table, the door, and the coat rack. “I don’t know, I-I mean, I see where you’re comin’ from but-”

Disappointment was clear across his face. “But? But what? We have somethin’ special between us, don’t you want that?”

You started to panic, your eyes coming back to him. “I do but-!”

“But what?” He repeated. “Is it time you want? I ain’t a patient man. Jus’ give me a night, a chance, I’ll show you-”

Your phone ringing cut him off.

You pulled it out and saw the caller ID, an unknown number.

“Go, take the call.” Shane’s tone was cold, he reluctantly released your hand.

You retreated to your bedroom, shutting the door quietly. You opened the phone and brought it to your ear. “…Hello?”

“Daryl.” You heard him over the phone. “Nearly thought you lost yer voice.” He laughed.

“How did you get my number?”

“It don’t matter. Ya free tonight, midnight?”

You were taken aback by the invitation Daryl gave you. “Uh, yeah… Why?”

“I’m taking ya ridin’.” Daryl replied.

A smile formed on your lips, nearly calming you. “That sounds great.”

After a few more words, you put your phone back in your pocket and came out of your room. When you returned to the kitchen, Shane was gone. You sighed, ashamed.

Amy was going to have your head.

You hurriedly got ready, opting to wear loose-fitting clothing such as a skirt and a v-neck lace blouse. You’ve been wanting to wear it for a while but never got the chance to.

With a glance and a posing session in front of the mirror to test if the outfit was good or if you would need to change for the hundredth time. You grabbed your jacket and keys and headed out the door.

You heard a rumble of a motorcycle engine, it got louder as you made your way to the parking lot.

You spotted Daryl leaning against his sleek motorcycle, a grin across his face.

“Right on time.” Daryl commented, feeling his eyes on you.

“Wouldn’t want to keep you waiting.” You replied you couldn’t help but smile widely. “You ready to take me for a ride, Judas?”

Daryl handed you a helmet, his fingers brushing against yours. “Only if ya can handle another one, darlin’.” He teased you.

Taking the helmet, you shot him a playful glare as you secured it in place. You swung your leg, and straddled the seat, finding his waist to hold.

“Hold on.” Daryl warned you. “Wouldn’t want ya fallin’ for me too soon.”

He pulled out of the parking lot and onto the open road, the air suddenly whipping through your hair.

You gasped at the sudden speed, your heart nearly pounding out of your chest…

Amy can get your head later.

© Intoxicated-Chan 2024, I do not allow my work to be copied, translated, modified, adapted, or put on any other platform without my permission.

Taglist ➳ @deansapplepie , @ladylincoln , @gamingfeline , @lady06reaper , @alanamarie , @daryldixmedown , @celtic-crossbow , @mrdixon , @itwasntaphasema , @duffmckagansbandana , @raspberryslxt , @itsrainingbisexualfrogs , @ingstadstarlight ,

⊰ Chapter 1 ⊰ » » YOU’RE HERE « « ⊰ Chapter 3 ⊰

[c0ld0utside]

Yan Werewolf Dad

Boo I'm back.

Let’s ignore the fact that I said I’d try to update every day. Have a yandere werewolf dad. 

Thought of Drew’s (from After Dark on Webtoon) werewolf form while writing this. 

Warnings (Let me know if I missed any): Possessiveness, blood, loss of teeth, reader gets dragged back home

Your mother left the two of you when you were young. Since then it’s been you and your dad. He’s a hardworking man, trying to make sure the two of you live comfortably and making sure you have a good childhood. Trying to make sure that you’re close to him. He can’t lose you, too. The two of you settled in a forest on a mountain after what happened. To keep you close and make sure you’re happy. 

Your average day went like this:

Your Dad wakes you up and makes you breakfast while you get ready for school. He’ll ask you what you have going on today to help you remember. Quiz in your third-period class, you have an assignment due in fifth. Things like that while he takes your lunch out of the fridge and gives it to you. He’ll walk with you to the bus, wish you a good day, kiss you on the forehead, and go back home to head to work in his car. 

Usually, you come home first. A few hours later your Dad will come back covered in small twigs and leaves, sometimes with a treat. You help him pull the twigs and leaves out of his hair and he’ll head into his bathroom to rinse. After the two of you make dinner, he’ll help you finish up your homework, and if you have time you’ll watch TV and tell each other how your day went. Once he deems that it’s time for you to go to bed, he sees you to your room, gives your forehead a kiss, and wishes you goodnight while reminding you that his door is always open if something is troubling you. 

If something is bothering you, he’s happy when you come to him. Scared? You can sleep over. Nightmare? You can talk about it if you want, or you can skip that and go straight to him reassuring you and comforting you. Just can’t sleep? You’ll talk until you do. By “talk,” it’s actually him reminding you that you’re his #1, his VIP, the most precious thing in his entire world, and that he loves you. That he wouldn’t be able to handle it if he lost you. That he’s sorry if he was short with you earlier. He hates fighting with you. He just wants to make you happy. 

-

Today is different.

It started normal. Your Dad shook you awake gently with a smile before heading downstairs to cook you up some breakfast. He asks you what you’re doing in second period today and if you remember what the two of you went over last night—feeling nervous? Don’t worry, he knows you’ll do fine. He hands you lunch, reminds you to put on your coat and tie your shoes, waits while you sling your backpack over your shoulders, and the two of you set off toward your bus stop. After a quick “Love you, bye!”, you board the bus and he watches you leave. 

School is a blur. Second period’s quiz freaked you out a little bit but you know your Dad cares more about you than actual grades. Lunch is nice, per usual. A little note from your Dad telling you not to be too hung up over second period and that he hopes the rest of your school day is better. He also added in your favorite treat to cheer you up. 

Before you know it you’re back on the bus, riding home. You head inside, kick off your shoes in the mudroom, and laze around for at least an hour or two before starting on your schoolwork. Another hour later, you frown when the clock hits 6:30 PM because your Dad should’ve been home by now. Okay…maybe he got held up with something. You keep at it and another hour goes by. You start to feel like something is wrong. 

Pulling out your phone, you’re mid-dial when your dad practically bursts into the home. His breathing is all over the place and his arm-

Is covered in blood. Dripping and getting all over the floor and his clothes. You call out to him and ask him what happened, standing there in shock for a moment before going to find the medkit. As you search through his bathroom you hear a loud thump, followed by the sound of something not human. 

“...Dad?” 

Uneasy, you slowly make your way out of his room and into the kitchen. You hear his breathing, but you don’t see him. You see blood all over the kitchen island and sink- and there’s some small white thing on it as well. 

“Dad? I got the medkit…” You offer, rounding the corner. And then you freeze because what the fuck.

Three teeth are scattered on the floor. Your Dad’s teeth. And hunched over on said floor is some large, fur-covered beast emitting steam and making the most gutwrenching sounds you have ever heard. Where is your dad? What is this thing in front of you? Are you dreaming? Did you fall asleep while doing your homework?

The creature shifts, and you can see the ugly bite mark on its arm. It lets out a loud, drawn-out whine as it rises, arm lazily flopping onto the counter while it tries to pull itself up. It balances itself, breathless and trying to process what’s going on. You take a step back and it turns its head to look at you.

Your Dad’s eyes look into your own. Deep red brown and soft. Scared. Mouth open. Fangs are where his canines used to be. He’s…taller. His skin seems tight on his body, which is covered in fur. His ears are like a wolf’s- 

There’s no way.

Werewolves aren’t real. Right?

With the grace of a newborn deer, the beast- your Dad stumbles on shaky legs. He turns around, holding onto the island like his life depended on it. The two of you just stand there, staring at each other. Your Dad tries to speak but all that comes out is some sort of yip. Something in your head clicks, and you take several steps back. He whines and tries to move closer to you, only to fall. When you move further away, his eyes harden and he snarls at you. 

You freeze. Your Dad tries to walk over to you, growling, and that’s when instinct takes over. 

Leading to where you are now, running through the forest in the middle of the night. You’re trying to find the main road that your bus stop is at. You don’t really know why. Barely anyone takes this road aside from the bus that takes you to school and the few other people who live several miles away from you. The occasional passerby uses the road in their long journey to get from point A to point B. 

You must’ve gotten turned around at some point. You’re nowhere near the street. You’re not even on the pathway you and your dad have walked down countless times. Alright. This is fine. You’ll find a way to retrace your steps in the middle of the dark. Totally. 

A sound cuts through the air. Some sort of cry, a bark mixed with someone trying to call your name. Part of you wants to respond and go to it, realizing that you just left your Dad even though he needs help. The other half doesn’t recognize him as your Dad anymore. Just a monster that’s hunting you down. You freeze again as your brain fights with itself, self-preservation and emotion currently in a heated argument. 

The arguing ceases and turns into panicked screaming when something pounces on you. Oh wait, no- you’re actually screaming. Out loud, not just in your head. The part of you that doesn’t want to die takes over and you start to struggle. In response, the monster snarls at you, claws digging into your skin. It stops when it draws blood and you start to cry, snarls switching into whimpers and whines. 

It was an accident. He didn’t mean to. You scared him when you ran off and you won’t come back home. He’s just so scared. He needs you. You’re the only family he has left, and part of you is him, after all. So you need him, too. 

Especially now. Even though it’s kind of his fault. 

Your Dad tries to pick you up and carry you back home, but you won’t stop thrashing around so it turns into him having to drag you back home. Kicking and screaming while he tries to apologize but can only keep making those odd noises. Begging and calling for help while he starts to feel annoyed because he’s right here, he’ll help you and make it better, he promises internally. 

Once you’re back home, it’s a bit odd. You have your Dad, who’s turned into a literal werewolf, dragging you inside after chasing and hurting you. He steers you over to the sink, washing the cuts he gave you with an apologetic look in his eye. It shifts into annoyance when he notices that you're also covered in dirt, scrapes, and other small cuts. This is what happens when you don't sit still. Your Dad bandages you up with shaky hands, still getting used to this new body of his. At this point, you’re too terrified and confused to fight back and cry. 

You’re guided into your bedroom and you immediately scramble into your bed. It feels safer there. Your Dad closes the door, flopping down next to you and pulling you close. He needs this. Needs his pup- kid close to him. Needs to know that they’re safe and secure and happy. You can miss a few days of school while the two of you figure this out. 

-

You look beautiful today! Remember to get 9 hours of sleep and drink water. 

Everything will be okay <3

[candy616]

Souvenir from the Battlefield 💖

~Phillip Graves x fem!Reader~

❌NSFW ❌ MDNI ❌

I wrote it because you asked me, love @xxavengingangelxx 💖 I'm sorry it's a pure disappointment though.

Y'all are invited to witness my embarrassment of a work. @bellgraves 💖 @rekakamado 💖 @phillip-graves-wife 💖 Please feel free to ignore even if I tagged you, my lovelies.

Warnings: An extremely UNSATISFYING (you've been warned) smut scene, a poor writing of a fifth grade, unsafe knife play (don't try this at home plz), not exactly about a knife play though, I don't know what is it all about to be honest… huh.. Slice of life maybe? I'm no Milton, but this isn't Paradise Lost either. Please don't throw stones at me. I wrote this instead of sleeping haha.

You've been dating for almost a year now, but you still lived in his penthouse that Graves barely could call a home before you appeared in his life and made this place much cozier. Before you've met, he practically lived in HQ, bases and hotels all over the world, not thinking much about having his own place. His place has always been on the battlefield. Graves didn't even have any hobbies, his passion laid only for one thing: making a difference in the world. And he was damn good at it. But being the Number One comes with price - he could never feel at home anywhere. Yes, Shadows were his home, but it was different... Until he met You. You changed his life completely. He found himself craving for more than battles, he started to want his own family, his own home. And You became that home for him. You've planned to buy a huge house, a mansion maybe, somewhere far away from city. A sweet secret place just for the two of you. But this was a rough and busy year. The war was everywhere, no rest for the wicked. And less he could do for now is trying to get home as soon as possible every time. Just like today.

Another quiet, lonely evening, you were sitting on the couch, wearing your nightgown, almost ready to go to sleep, staring at your laptop, mind absorbed with your boring work routine, trying not to think that you have to live without your ridiculously handsome bf for three days more, unable to even contact him this time due to the mission. You were so frustrated and immersed in the screen, you didn't hear someone approaching from behind.

“Honey, I'm home...” His hands were on your shoulders.

You shrieked and jumped, your heart pounding in your chest.

“Phil?! What the Hell?! I thought you are returning only in three days! Why didn't you call me? I would have greeted you properly! God, love... You scared me to death but I'm so happy you are home!” You immediately threw your arms around him, embracing him tightly.

He chuckled hearing your excited babble.

“Sorry, babe. I couldn't call. I came to ya as soon as I could. Besides, ya've been complaining 'bout the lack of excitement, so I thought I could deliver." He grinned, revealing his adorable little fangs. You let out a small, infatuated sigh and leaned into him. His eyes darkened, and he grunted, pulling you closer with his strong arms, holding you tightly in a bear like hug. He leaned in and began kissing you passionately, devouring your mouth as if he were a man starving, making you melt immediately and completely. He kissed you for a few minutes, filling your mouth with his tongue and saliva, not willing to let you go. Eventually, he sighed and loosened his grip, gazing into your eyes and gently stroking your hair. "Damn, babe, I missed ya so bad." His arms squeezed you tightly as he held you close.

“I missed you more... I wish you'd never leave me ever again.” You looked at him and noticed how pale his face was. He looked extremely exhausted. “Jeez, Phil, you need rest. Now.” You took his hand and led him to the couch, making him to sit down.

“Yes, ma'am.” He plopped down heavily on the sofa, leaned back, closed his eyes, stretched out his legs and sighed. You stroked his cheek affectionately, looking at him with love and sympathy. Your poor man deserved a vacation.

“What would you like to eat, love? We have everything you like.” You asked, already pouring him a glass of favorite, extremely expensive whiskey.

“I'm not hungry, sweetie. Well, 'cept for ya, as always.” He grinned showing his fangs again, making you want to drop everything and just take him. But you contained yourself and continued pouring whiskey, wanting to add some ice. “No, no. No ice, sugar, give it to me.” You handed him the glass and he downed it in one gulp.

“Wow... That tough?”

“Ya have no idea, sweetheart” He smirked, returning the glass to you for another one. “Well, I had t' push myself a li'l harder t' return to ya sooner. Definitely worth it.”

“You have no idea how happy I am to see you, love. But I don't want you to exhaust yourself like this...” you gave him another glass, this time with ice.

“So, ya sayin' I shouldn't come back sooner?” He takes a sip and looks at you slyly.

“What? No! You know I didn't mean it like that.”

“'Course, I know, darlin'. C'mere.” He pulled you to sit on his lap and kissed your forehead. You put your hands around his neck and started to kiss his cheek, going down to his jaw and neck, ending on his ear. You bit it and licked it, listening to his satisfied groans and feeling his hands roaming around your body, groping your butt and pulling you closer. You whined softly, nibbling on his ear harder.

“You smell like war.”

“Yeah, sorry, doll, I haven’t changed, went straight home.”

“No, I love it...”

“Ya love it, huh?” He smiled amused and, suddenly you felt something cold against the back of your neck.

“Don't move, sweetheart.”

“Phil...? What are you doing?” You froze, a bit confused.

“Just don't move, hon, alright? Ya wanted a bit of excitement, so I’m gonna give ya some. I'm just playing with ya. You trust me, right?” The tip of his combat knife started to trace down your neck, grazing your skin slightly, not breaking it.

“Of course, I trust you, love. Always. But... Are you going to cut me?”

“Ha! Cut ya? Never. I'd rather cut off my arm than hurt ya, sugar. I'm getting off on the blood of my enemies, ya know me. But seeing my sweet little girl bleed would be such a turn off. So, no, I'm not gonna cut ya, sweetheart.” He started to cut the back of your nightgown to trace your spine down further, giving you goosebumps and you shivered slightly. He stopped and put away the blade.

“Shh... I said don't move, darlin'. Not even the slightest. This thing here is extremely sharp. Don't go makin' me sad, and hold perfectly still, ya hear?” He kissed your forehead again and waited for you to nod. You relaxed your body leaning against him completely.

“Good girl.” He continued to move the knife down your spine, ripping your nightgown and pressing your body tightly to his chest with the other hand. You shut your eyes, trying to hold your breath.

“What if I want you to cut me?”

“Ah-ah. No way, sweetheart. I won't do it, even if ya beg me... Though, I'd like t'hear ya beg right now. C'mon, sugar, beg me.”

“Please...” You whined.

“Please what, sweetheart?”

“Please, love me, Phil.”

He growled loudly.

“My fucking God, baby girl. What are ya doin' to me…” He grabbed you and lifted you, turning you around, your back pressed against his chest now. One hand was around your neck, holding you gently but firmly, the other was pulling up the edge of your nightgown, his fingers caressed your abdomen lightly, slowly going down. His mouth pressed against your ear, the hot breath burns your skin, making your squirm, as he whispered.

“Oh, I'll love ya. I'll love ya so fuckin' good, baby girl.” His fingers started to stroke you slowly.

“My, my, ya're so wet for me, babe...”

You let out a loud moan, quickly covering your mouth with your hand.

“Oh, no, no, no, my darlin'. Lemme hear every sweet sound ya make...” He removed your hand from your face.

“On second thought, ya know what? Suck on it. Like a good girl, c'mon.” He put two fingers in your mouth and you started to lick and suck on it, making him growl.

“Fuck, hon, what a good, obedient girl I have here, huh? Good sweet thing...” You leaned back on him, whimpering and melting while he was stroking you with one hand and making you suck on his fingers with the other. He hadn’t touch you for two months so you were absolutely ecstatic right now, moaning loudly, your eyes rolled back.

“Good girl, good girl, my good little thing...” He stopped stroking you for a moment, shifting his hand to open up the zipper of his jeans and pull out his hard shaft. He started to grind between your butt cheeks, continuing to stroke your hot wet spot. Your breath hitched when he slid his thick finger into your core firmly and start to move it, caressing you inside. You moaned louder as he stretched you, adding the second and the third fingers, praising you, kissing your temple tenderly, his other hand groping and feeling your breasts, pinching your nipples occasionally.

“Alright, now...” He lifted you slightly and guided his length inside you, making you sit on him offhand with one swift motion. You whined and started wreathing, but he stopped you.

“No, no, sweetheart, don't you move. Stay perfectly still for me. Stay good girl for Daddy, yeah?” He held you firmly with his arm, and taking the knife again. “Now, I want ya not to move an inch, or we'll stop this. Understood?”

“Yes, love.” You whispered, out of breath.

“Don't hear ya, darlin”

“Yes, Daddy” You said louder.

“Atta girl, sweetheart.” He kissed your temple again and opened your legs wider with his knees. You both panted, moaned and sighed with every little motion of your bodies.

“Mmm... What a perfect bod ya got here, sugar. Real nice and soft, so ready for me... Close yer eyes, darlin” He murmured seductively and pressed the blade to your stomach carefully, starting to trace it slowly down your sensitive skin. You held your breath, trying not to move, as soft, muffled moans escaped your mouth.

“Do ya feel it, sweetheart? Do ya feel my hard love inside and outside? All over ya, hm? Ya like it? Ya like it, my darlin'?” The blade started to trace your inner thighs so slowly and teasingly, making it almost impossible for you to not flinch, but you managed to stay still.

“Say it.” His now rough demanding tone forced your mushed brain to focus on his voice.

“Yes, ah... Yes, I love it so much!” You whined in reply.

“My good girl.” He caressed your cheek tenderly. "Oh, my, babe, what a mess, what a perfect girl for me...”

You looked down and saw an embarrassing sticky puddle leaking from you. The sight of it made you even hotter, shutting your brain down completely. You closed your eyes again, feeling his left hand holding you across your body steadily, and his right hand slowly dragging the knife along your breasts now.

“That's right, love, ya're so good for me. Keep staying still, don't want to hurt ya even a bit. So good for me, my girl.” He grunted, bringing the knife to your neck and pressing the flat of the blade slightly against your throat. You held your breath and froze completely.

“Now. Do ya wanna say something to me, sugar?” He kissed the crook of your neck, sill pressing the blade gently. You moaned and took a deep breath.

“I love you, Phil. I love you so much.” You whined needlingly.

“Fuck, babe... I love ya more. Ya're my whole damn world, ya hear?” He took away the knife and lifted you up rapidly. His shaft slid out of you with a loud squelching sound and you let out the dirtiest moan possible. He grunted and laid you down on the couch, getting on top of you immediately. “I'm going to fuck ya so nice, babe, ya won't be able to walk for good two weeks.” He growled right in your ear, crushing you under him and nuzzling your neck. Then he stopped, his breath hot on your skin.

“Phil…? Love?” He didn't answer. “Honey...?” The only response was the sound of his calm, deep breathing. You turned your head and looked at him. Your poor exhausted love was sleeping soundly. You chuckled and hugged him tightly, letting him sleep on top of you. “Goodnight, love.” You kissed his cheek and closed your eyes. He mumbled something making you laugh a bit. You kissed the scar on his other cheek and fell asleep peacefully, your arms around him.

…………………………………………….

P.S.: Graves woke up in the middle of the night, extremely horny and fucked you silly, cumming inside you and making you cum for 3 timed in a row. Then he lifted you up from the couch and brought you to your bedroom, fucking you again in your bed. You both fall asleep in each other's arms, completely drained but satisfied. You woke up in the afternoon and took a shower together, trying hard not to start fucking again. One of the Shadow security detail brought you breakfast in bed. You were naked, covered with only a thin blanked. Both the Shadow and you were embarrassed, while Graves were grinning slyly. What a lovely bastard :c

🌸The End🌸 

[selfaware-bungou-stray-dogs]

What kind of interaction would the hunting dogs have with Teen Reader

You don't need blood to be a family

Self-Aware! Platonic! Hunting Dogs x GN! Teen! Reader

Description: You have a new family and real home. You also start attending new school. And some people have questions about your family. Thankfully, you have people who can protect you.

Found family. Flags cameo.

Warning: OOC. PTA meeting. Some of the parents are terrible. Two people don't believe in Found family. I used random names will to choose on 'official' guardian for Reader. Reader were an orphan. Rude comments about Reader. Some very rude words in the Bonus part. English is my second language.

A/N: I have already made post about Hunting Dogs and Adult!Reader. Hunting Dogs interactions with Teen!Reader will mostly stay the same. They still will be incredibly protective over Reader and will try to become a group of elite bodyguards for Teen! Reader. The only difference I can point, is that Fukuchi won't be so openly hostile to Teen! Reader at first (and in case of Child! Reader he won't be hostile at all).

It all started one spring evening.

You were sitting in the school hall, waiting for PTA meeting to end.

You visibly frowned. PTA meetings for your family became really stressful since your first month in a new school.

Not because of your grades or behavior, no. Because of some parents.

_____

Even back in their world, BSD Cast decide to adopt you. So, after getting in real world and obtaining necessary documents, BSD Cast adopted you for real. Well, by documents, you were adopted by Natsume. But, in reality, you have ten fathers (Natsume, Fukuzawa, Mori, Rimbaud, Verlaine, Oda, Fitzgerald, Hawthorne, Dostoevsky, Fukuchi), three mothers (Yosano, Kouyou, Mitchel), three grandfathers (Hirotsu, Taneda, Melville) and a bunch of siblings, uncles and aunts.

You weren't related by blood, but you were family.

Unfortunately, not everyone could accept it.

When all of you moved in a new house, you started to attend new school. And new school means new people, new teachers and PTA.

In this school, PTA meetings were held weekly.

First PTA meeting were held in a week after you start attending new school.

Natsume attended the first PTA meeting. Everything went well.

Fukuzawa attended the second PTA meeting. Some people didn't like the fact you have two fathers. But no one listen to them.

Verlaine attended the third PTA meeting. Parents started questioning, why you have three fathers

Yosano attended the forth PTA meeting. Parents were glad, to finally see a mother. Unfortunately, the meeting was focused on vaccination in schools. And, of course, there were some anti-vax parents. They tried to give flyers about the harm of vaccinations. To Yosano. Yosano was calm, and her voice was sweet as honey. With few words, she told parents what they can do with these flyers, where they can shove them and was wondering, how their kids are still alive.

Anti-vax parents still terrified of meeting Yosano again.

The next seven meetings were attended by Hawthorne, Mitchell, Mori, Kouyou, Fukuzawa, Oda and Fitzgerald. Parents became more and more confused about how many fathers and mothers you have.

But after one PTA meeting, parents have even more questions.

_______________

The meeting was ready to begin. Most of the parents were glad, that none of your fathers or mothers arrived.

Their happiness were short-lived.

Right before the meeting started, someone knocked on the door and opened it.

"We are sorry for been late. It's the PTA meeting, right? [Y/N] told us correct classroom?"

Parents were ready to see another man who will introduce himself as your father.

They didn't expect, that five males will come inside. One of them were carrying an IV pole, second had a scar over his eyes, third was wearing tinted glasses, forth had black streaks in his hair, the fifth one has a beauty mark under his left eye.

At that time, everyone who has attended even one PTA meeting, learned to despise them. People, who haven't attended them, were slightly curious. So, when chance arise, Flags volunteered to attend PTA meeting. Unfortunately, Flags couldn't decide, which one of them will go, so they decide, that they will go together.

One of the mothers, Ms. Greenhill, frowned. She and her family were really vocal about how terrible your family were. Because you had multiple fathers and mothers.

"Let me guess, you are also [Y/N]'s fathers?"

Lippmann shook his head.

"No, we are their uncles."

Ms. Greenhill raised her hand. Her voice was shaking.

"Just... How many relatives do [Y/N] have?!"

Piano Man was the one who answered.

"Sixty seven. Including fathers, mothers, grandfathers, uncles, ants and siblings"

The rest of the meeting went well. Because parents were too shocked to say something rude.

______________

Ever since that day, your school life became tense.

Your classmates were constantly asking about your family.

Some thought that it was cool to have a big family. Others thought that you are all sick.

You ignored them. You loved your family. And this is more important than others people opinions.

On PTA meetings, other parents try to get a rise out of BSD Cast, but they didn't succeed.

You just continue attending school.

BSD Cast continue attending PTA meetings.

Today was Hunting Dogs' turn. Today's meeting were hold earlier than usual, so Fukuchi offered you to wait for them, so you six can grab a dinner later.

_______

Classroom door opened. Patents were leaving class. The meeting was over. You noticed a familiar mop of red rust hair. Soon your older brother Tachihara was standing near you. He ruffled your hair.

"Hey, [Y/N], ready to go grab some food?"

You close your eyes in bliss.

"Yup. I am so hungry, I could eat a horse."

Tachihara chuckled.

"Me too, kiddo. After listening to this people," Tachihara cast a quick glance at parents detection. "I need to eat something good to improve my mood."

You tilt your head.

"Did they say something that crossed the line?"

Instead of Tachihara, Uncle Jouno answered you. He gives you a sideways hug.

"Nothing too different from other times. 'You are a bad influence', 'why [Y/N] have so many fathers and mothers?'. Their normal yapping." Jouno start whispering, so only you and Tachihara can hear him. "And here I thought that we are supposed to be dogs and do all the yapping on meetings."

You three laugh. Other parents glared at you, but they didn't say anything. They were a little bit nervous because of Hunting Dogs. Despite not wearing their uniform and not having their swords, Fukuchi, Teruko, Tetchou, Jouno and Tachihara do look scary enough.

Aunt Teruko joined you three. She was glaring at The Jacksons. You remembered, that they were as vocal against you as The Greenhills. Moreover, once, they tried to harass Kenji. They called him an idiot from a dirty village. Thankfully for them, Kenji wasn't resentful. You noticed, that Uncle Tetchou was also glaring at Jacksons, while discussing something with Dad Fukuchi.

Teruko squinted for the last time and looked at you.

"[Y/N], you know, I kind of disappointed in you."

After noticing your confused face, Teruko quickly added.

"You have good grades. You do your homework. You don't pick up fights! You don't let me be a strict aunt! I wanted to be a strict aunt from time to time."

You huff and grinned. You opened your arms, inviting Teruko to hug you.

"Well, sorry, Aunt Teruko, can't help it. But, I hope you don't want to be and Aunt who pays for hugs. I will hug you for free."

Teruko grins playfully and crushed you in a hug.

"This one is acceptable."

Then you heard some arguing. All of you turned around.

Fukuchi was arguing with Mr. And Ms. Greenhills. Tetchou was slowly backing away, closer to you.

Some parents remained. They thought that they will see an interesting show.

Meanwhile, Fukuchi was growling.

"Will you stop harassing my kid and family, you two? We aren't bothering anyone! We are a simple family!"

Mr. Greenhill spits.

"You aren't a normal family! You are a bunch of unrelated people who made our kids think that having multiple partners is fine! That having a family bond with people that aren't related to you are fine!"

You whisper. Only Hunting Dogs heard you.

"Well… technically, consensual polygamy or polyandry are fine... And adoption existed for a long time."

Teruko reassuringly squeezed your hand.

Fukuchi hissed.

"Listen here, [Y/N] are our kid. I am their father. Fukuzawa is also their father. So as Mori, Verlaine, Rimbaud and Natsume. All of us are their family. We don't need blood to love them and wanting the best for them! So stop been a..."

Mr. Greenhill got furious.

"I will say what I want about you and the little bastards you have adopted!"

Ms. Greenhill looked at you with disgust.

"I am pretty sure that this rat will end in the slums with such an unnatural family."

The hall became quiet. Fukuchi breath in and out. He looked at you and nodded.

Tetchou immediately picked you up and put you on his back. Like he wants to give you a piggyback ride.

Jouno covered your ears.

Tachihara covered your eyes.

Teruko stand closer to Fukuchi.

Tetchou start moving with you on his back. He, Tachihara and Jouno were moving in the same speed, so your ears and eyes won't be stay uncovered.

You didn't see, how Fukuchi opened his mouth.

______

Tachihara and Jouno finally let go of your eyes and ears only when you were two blocks away from school.

Tetchou still carried you on his back. He looked up.

"Are you okay, [Y/N]?"

You nodded.

"Mhm. It wasn't the worst thing someone called me."

Tetchou smiles. He starts walking faster.

"Well, let's go and grab this dinner. Captain and Teruko-san will join us later."

You smile and looked back.

"You know... Today, the school library holds reading hours for pre-schoolers."

Jouno raised an eyebrow.

"And?"

You nervously giggled

"I think, they haven't finished yet. And kids heard everything Dad Fukuchi were saying right now."

The silence could be cut with a knife.

Tachihara, Jouno and Tetchou start walking faster.

Together, four of you said.

"Problems of tomorrow us"

_________

Bonus.

________

"Captain Fukuchi, can you, please, explain, where did a bunch of toddlers learned the words 'slum-trawling strumpet' and 'syphilitic eunuch' and why is school blaming you and Teruko?"

"Chef Taneda... It's a very long story..."

[just-jordie-things]

ik you’ve written abt megumi a lot lately but i’m in deep right now lol😭 can i request a childhood friends to lovers with him and the readers met everyone that he knows except Itadori and Nobara? i feel like meeting them with him would be very chaotic and possibly embarrassing for him

childhood friends to lovers >>>

you're probably the only friend he made in grade school, unless you count tsumiki. honestly megumi isn't sure why you insisted on hanging out with him during recess or lunch, seeing his reputation was a little... well, you know how it was.

at first he's probably a little annoyed that you keep insisting on hanging around him, but eventually you're just a constant in his life. he wouldn't admit it, but on days that you stayed home sick or had an appointment during school hours, he was a little bit lonely.

(tsumiki teases him constantly and is always asking about you)

it's not until you admit a secret to him that he decides you probably are his best friend, and will finally admit it out loud. he'll never forget the nervous way you told him that you could see monsters, afraid that he would laugh and make fun of you for such a stupid thing. you're surprised when he sits down with you and tells you all about curses and jujutsu sorcerers and the annoying man that had essentially adopted him to strengthen his abilities in the hopes that one day he could kill those monsters.

(you fall a little in love with him that day in the fifth grade when he tells you that you don't have to be afraid of the monsters bc he'll always be around to scare 'em off)

you remain attached at the hip all through middle school, learning everything about each other during study halls and late nights staying up on the phone together. you talk to him about your cursed technique, and he spends hours with you trying to better understand it's capabilities. neither one of you have any other friends, and if you thought enough about it you'd probably realize you're social rejects. but neither of you care. you had each other and you understood each other, and that was all that really mattered.

the summer before high school, megumi tells you that it was time for him to go to a different school, where he could learn more about curses and follow the path to being a proper sorcerer. you tell him you're happy for him, that you're proud of him, and you know he'll succeed in anything he puts his mind too. he's blushing. you're holding back tears.

you don't want him to go. you couldn't possibly ask him to stay.

and then one day, just before the school year started, a weird man in dark sunglasses and the whitest hair you've ever seen approaches you while you're waiting for your order to be called at your favorite cafe.

he tells you who he is, and that megumi had spent many, many hours talking about you and your abilities. he hands you a brochure, and tells you that he wants you to enroll at jujutsu tech. at first you refuse, you're too afraid of the monsters, and you came from a family of non-curse users. you'd never even told them about your abilities. gojo tells you that he'd already spoken to your parents, and he'd convinced them to let you go to a private school under the guise of your outstanding academic record.

with that, you couldn't really refuse.

megumi is ecstatic when gojo brings you to the school. gojo doesn't think he's ever seen him so happy, and he's surprised when he hugs you tightly, overcome with joy that he didn't have to be apart from his favorite person.

you're both blushing.

in the two weeks before school starts, you help each other unpack and decorate in your little dorms, which are just down the hall from each other. you admit to megumi that you're not sure if this was the right path for you, and he tells you that no matter any anxiety you might have about your new life, he'd be there to help every step of the way.

your heart skips a beat when you look up into his azure eyes, knowing that he meant every word he said. are you supposed to feel this warm and fluttery for your friends? you're not sure, but you enjoy the feeling of butterflies in your stomach, so you don't think too much about it.

you spend almost every waking minute together before school starts. it's the best time of your life. you don't think you've ever been happier. megumi feels the same. he doesn't think he's ever laughed so much in his life spending all this extra time with you that he didn't get as much when you were still growing up.

the night that he's sent to find the cursed object that was sukuna's finger, you had been practicing applying your cursed technique with a teacher back at the school. apparently the blonde man with the spotted tie was the only one patient enough to train with you from the afternoon to well into the evening.

you aren't aware of the events that transpired with one itadori yuji. you had far too much catching up to do. megumi briefly mentions another student joining our class, but he doesn't give away too much information. he'd rather hear about how far you're coming along with your technique, anyways.

a few days later, your mentor Nanami tells you there will be yet another student joining you, a young girl this time. you're excited at the prospect of making new friends.

megumi dreads it.

gojo had already mentioned you (more specifically, he'd said "just wait until you meet (y/n)! I'm sure megumi will be happy to introduce you to his girl!") to the three of them on the last assignment they'd taken together. yuji and nobara had squealed at the prospect of their grouchy classmate having a girl. megumi doesn't know how yet, but he knows he'll have to get gojo back for that one.

it's not until a few days after nobara has joined the team that you finally have some free time away from training, and you suggest to megumi that all four of you should have some bonding time.

"we're classmates. we bond enough" he'd replied gruffly, going back to the book he was reading. but you gave him your best puppy dog eyes and insisted that you must meet them.

"you think they won't like me?" you ask when he continues to shoot the idea down.

megumi huffs, finally dropping the book to his lap and staring blankly at you. you scooted closer to him on his bed.

"you're not embarrassed of me are you, megumi?" you tease, grinning ear to ear.

"course not" he muttered, turning away in hopes that you wouldn't see his blushing face.

you can still see the red tips of his ears, and that feeling of butterflies that you'd been experiencing lately returned. you tease him for his blushing. he gives in with a defeated sigh, throwing his head back against the wall as he agrees to a lunch with your new classmates.

you clap your hands, and lean forward to press your lips to his cheek without thinking. he thinks his heart might burst he could die right there. he gets up and leaves the room hastily under the excuse of finding nobara and yuji.

when the lunch finally rolls around, he contemplates pretending to be sick so he didn't have to go. he couldn't possibly handle yuji and nobara teasing him- which was bound to happen.

but you're so excited, you'd spent all morning with him trying to find the right thing to wear- despite megumi repeatedly telling you that anything was fine, and he was just going to wear his uniform.

"well that's different, you look good in your uniform. it makes me look boxy" you told him, before grabbing a different hanger and heading back into the bathroom to change for the hundredth time.

he feels hot suddenly at the compliment. you continued to fluster him, and it was starting to drive him crazy.

when you emerge in a new outfit, megumi swallows his fear (and maybe his pride too).

"that looks good," he tells you as you look over the outfit in your mirror. "you look, uh, pretty"

you grin, finding it adorable how much he struggled to compliment you. you decide this is the one, and beckon him to come with you to meet your new friends at the gate.

"they're loud," megumi warns. "and... annoying" he adds.

"I don't mind," you shrug, not thinking twice about his cautious words. "I think it'll be good for us to branch out a little"

megumi's hands are closed in tight, clammy fists at his sides.

"i guess" he mumbles. he's never felt so much anxiety in his life before.

(y/n) reaches a hand out to his, gently prodding open his fist and linking her fingers through his. he stops in his tracks, and she turns to look at him, puzzled.

"what's been bothering you?" she asks, worried.

megumi looks anywhere but at her face. all he can think about was how soft the palm of her hand is, and how it seemed to fit perfectly in his. his heart's racing. his mind is buzzing with thoughts of her. but even with her standing in front of him, he can't bring himself to look at her.

"it's stupid"

(y/n) shrugs her shoulders. "so?"

its a simple response, but it seems to do the trick to get herself catapulted over his high, high walls, because he gives in and fucking admits it already.

"they kinda know that i... like you," he says, eyes dropping to hers to watch her reaction closely. "like you like... more than friends like each other"

her mouth forms a little 'o' and her cheeks and quickly turning a rosy shade of pink. she processes the words carefully, before her lips break into a smile, and she squeezes the hand she's holding.

"megumi," she says warmly. "why does that bother you so much? you don't want them to know?"

he sputters out nonsense.

"well I didn't need them going and- and blabbing off to you! I wanted to be the one to tell you first"

(y/n) chuckles, and drags him along with her so they can continue their walk to the gates.

"I already knew," she shrugged casually.

megumi thinks he's going to die.

"but I appreciate you finally telling me," she adds. "and for what it's worth, I like you too"

he wants to cuss her out for making him so anxious over nothing, but he's so elated that he bites his tongue.

(for now, later that night he'll chew you out for not telling him sooner. you'll giggle and kiss his nose and tell him you like watching him squirm. he'll pull you against him and affectionately call you the devil)

and for what it's worth, megumi wasn't wrong. as soon as your new classmates see your joined hands and megumi's blushing face, it is open season. you want to make them calm down for your sweet, shy boy's sake, but you can't help but giggle along while they childishly, relentlessly tease him for having a soft spot.

the soft spot grows larger as he ducks his face into the collar of his shirt. his hand squeezes yours a little tighter.

silently, you tell him,

any anxiety you might have, I'll be here every step of the way. ___

got a lil carried away. i love megumi he makes me soft :')

[ankh-morporkianpostalworker]

The Use of Robert Moses as a Foil in The Unsleeping City

For those of you who don’t remember 10th grade English and don’t have a degree in Literature from a state school, a foil is a character who exists to contrast another character in order to highlight the characteristics of both characters. There are many great examples of this not only in literature (Hamlet and Laertes, Tybalt and Benvolio, Adam Trask and Cathy Ames) but also in film (Luke Skywalker and Darth Vader, Batman and the Joker), comics (see: Batman and the Joker) and a host of other mediums. With all that said, and those examples given, I posit that Robert Moses is a foil for the Heroes of New York in Dimension 20: The Unsleeping City. 

First and most obviously, he is a reflection of Kingston Brown if Kingston Brown wasn’t a strict adherent to Uncle Ben’s axiom. Moses took every bit of power he could for his own use and, in real life, screwed over the city of New York where Brown uses everything he’s given to make the city better (in a flashback, we find out that the first thing Brown asks the Dragon of Bleeker Street after becoming the Vox Populi is how he can use his power to help other people). 

Second, he’s a version of Kugrash that never learned the importance of caring for others. Throughout season one, Kugrash acts as a protector for the homeless and dispossessed of New York, feeding and clothing and protecting them from harm, a lesson he learned after he was cursed by a powerful spellcaster. The people he protects are those who Robert Moses’s realm would destroy, the people Robert Moses cares nothing for. This service comes not purely from penance, but also from a heartfelt desire to help others to the point that he sacrifices his body to save New York. Finally, and perhaps most importantly, is his reaction to the final words of Robert Moses’s phylactery after his (Kugrash’s) sacrifice - greed is good. To quote the man himself -  “ Greed is good, for rat motherfuckers like Robert Moses, but not in our town, not in our fuckin' city!”

Third, Robert Moses is a reflection of Pete if Pete had given in to corruption and temptation and hatred and greed, which he almost does multiple times in the series, the final time being in Showdown at the Stock Exchange, the penultimate fight of season one. This final choice is offered as two options on the Wild Magic Table - embrace the darkness to match Robert Moses in power, or resist temptation and rise above, Pete choosing the later. For this rejection of evil, Pete is killed (I choose to read the game of Eenie Miney Minie Mo as being a theatrically show that Robert Moses put on just to prove how evil he is). 

Fourth, both he and Misty/Rowan feed on the power of the city for their own ends, Robert to control it and Misty to maintain her youth and beauty. The difference lies in the fact that, as Nod points out, Misty/Rowan gives back to the people more than she takes, giving them hope and joy (and using her magic to protect the people), while Robert Moses gives nothing in return. She also cares for the immaterial things in life, like beauty and art and entertainment, while he does not.

Fifth, Ricky’s self-sacrificing nature is in stark contrast to Robert Moses’s. Throughout the series, Ricky puts himself on the line to protect others, a good portion of his magic being used to protect others from harm and the rest (notably his smites) used in defense of the innocent. In the final battle of season one, against Robert Moses’s nightmarish American Dream, he uses an ability that he knows will almost certainly kill him. His words to Kingston Brown moments before the sacrifice - “You got me if you got me” - show that while he would like to come back and knows his friend will do what he can to make that happen, he also knows that there’s a chance that this is the end for him, and he does it anyway, a sacrifice Robert Moses would never accept. 

Finally, there’s Sofia. Sofia was the hardest of these to write about, but eventually I realize that the contrast comes in relation to wealth - Sof rejects her family’s ill-gotten wealth, choosing to live (temporarily) as a monk with little more than the contents of a backpack to her name, while Robert Moses craves wealth so much that his whole plan revolves around creating a new realm in New York city specifically for his own gain. It’s not a lot, but it’s something. 

There’s also the fact that the heroes all love New York while Robert Moses sees it as a tool for his own gain, but that mostly goes without saying. 

I’m about 90% sure that this is the longest post I’ve made on this site but I really enjoyed writing it. I definitely plan on making more like it, analyzing D&D series through a serious literary lens and discussing the uses of literary and narrative techniques, although these won’t be as frequent as my shorter observations. 

If you got all the way through this, thank you and you’re awesome. 

[its-vannah]

Gold Rush | Graham Dunne x Reader

Request from @ariianelle: hey!! you're currently carrying the djats fics rn and I was wondering if you could write a graham x reader inspired by gold rush by Taylor Swift? specifically fluff with a happy ending? mainly just Graham pining over the reader? <3

A/N: This may be my favorite Graham fic I've ever written. It was entertaining to no end—and I'm usually pretty hard on my work.

Warnings: Mentions of kidneys and vomit

Daisy Jones and The Six Masterlist

Being in the spotlight was exhausting. There were times you wish you could have five minutes, just five to yourself. But that wasn't the kind of world you lived in.

Cameras were constantly flashing around you, microphones were being put into your face, fans were asking for your autograph. You could barely catch your breath.

You hadn't asked for any of this. Not the fame or the fortune. From a young age, you were forced into acting lessons by your parents who had big dreams of their daughter fitting in with high society.

The first movie you ever did cemented your place in Hollywood as a sexy, sultry, up and coming actress. You were fifteen. There shouldn't have been anything sexy or sultry about you.

After the release of "The Governor's Daughter", you were launched fullforce into a career you never wanted. No matter how many carpets you walked down or how many after parties you attended, none of it made the life you were living any easier.

You were living your parents dream, not your own.

Those thoughts were interrupted by a knock on your dressing room door. Taking a deep breath, you smoothed out the front of your dress, opening the door.

The SNL manager stood outside, pointing to the face of his watch, "You're on in seven."

You got the memo, shutting the door behind you and making your way to the stage. But an ongoing conversation in a dressing room beside yours caught your attention.

"You don't get it, Billy, she's the most famous actress of the decade. She's our Evelyn Hugo," One man exclaimed.

Another man laughed, "Evelyn Hugo is still the actress of our decade."

"No, you don't get it, she's different. Everybody wants her. Everybody. I heard one guy sold his kidney just to meet her."

"A kidney? Graham, where are you getting this from?"

A sheepish laugh escaped the other man's lips, "The tabloids."

"You, as much as anyone, should know to never trust the tabloids," He sighed, "Graham, if you like her so much, why don't you ask her out?"

"Have you seen her? She's beautiful, she grew up beautiful," The man, Graham, said, "I don't have a chance with her. I don't even think I'd be able to talk around her."

A groan escaped the other man, "You never know. Michelle Wieler liked you in fifth grade and according to you, she was the prettiest girl in the whole school."

"Billy..."

A sudden snapping behind you snapping you out of your trance, "Snap, snap, Y/N, time to get out on that stage."

Taking a deep breath, you prepared yourself for your SNL monologue.

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

At the end of your monologue, you made an announcement to a happy crowd, "Stuck around because after break, Daisy Jones and The Six will perform their hit single, Look At Us Now!"

The audience erupted into applause, on the edge of their seats to listen to the increasingly popular song. It hadn't been out long, but it was already a classic in their eyes.

Walking back of stage to prepare for a skit, you had little to change about your appearance. The segement revolved around your character going on a date at a formal restaurant that goes horribly wrong.

All you needed was a quick touch up. You were in and out of your dressing room in the snap of a finger, taking your place beside the sound tech. You always appreciated those behind the scenes. They never got enough credit.

Beside you, two men walked up, each with a head full of curls. One looked like he had been through hell while the other looked like he had just seen a ghost.

He began whispering to the man beside him, his eges glued to you. But the man simply elbowed him in the ribs, effectively shushing him.

He turned towards you, extending his hand, "Excuse me? Big fan of your work, name's Billy Dunne."

You shook his hand, giving him a warm smile, "Y/N L/N."

Billy nodded to the man on his left, "This is Graham. He's a bit starstruck, if you can't tell."

Your eyebrows raised. So this was the Graham who had been gushing about you in the dressing room. He was cute, that you couldn't deny. But his naivety got in his way.

"Graham, is it?" You smiled, moving in front of him, leaning in to hug him.

He tensed up, shock settling into his features as he looked at Billy, trying to contain his excitement.

Before you pulled away, you whispered in his ear, "For future reference, it was both kidneys."

You pulled away from him immediately after, sauntering off in the other direction.

Graham turned towards his brother, his jaw open.

Billy gave him a questioning look, "What the hell happened to you?"

"Did you tell her?" He was practically shaking out of his skin.

"Tell who what?"

Graham tried to take a deep breath, his foot rapping against the floor, "Did you tell Y/N about the kidney thing? What I said?"

"I've been with you the whole time, dumbass."

"God, I'm an idiot," Graham cursed himself while his brother wrapped an arm around his shoulders.

"Oh, Graham, you have so much to learn."

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

After the band delivered a flawless performance, you walked out on stage to do your skit. Even now, after years of walking out in front of an audience, you felt like your heart was beating out of your chest.

Taking a seat on a wooden chair in front of a table draped in white cloth, you waited for your costar to join you.

That's when Graham Dunne was pushed out on stage, nervously smiling at the crowd.

Amused, you crossed your legs and leaned in to whisper as he sat down, "Where's Don?"

"Puking in one of the stalls in the men's room," He responded.

"So they sent you?" You asked, the corners of your lips lifting.

He swallowed the bile rising in his throat, "I can tell them to bring somebody else—"

"No, stay. I just hope you can read the cards."

Graham nodded, "About earlier—"

"And action!" Someone yelled off set, cutting the youngest Dunne off.

With that, Graham launched into his first SNL skit.

-------

After the skit, you and Graham walked off stage, laughing at one another.

"I was awful!" He exclaimed, unable to control himself.

"You were hilarious," You replied, "Anyone else would've thought you just had impeccable comedic timing."

"Or that I'm a dumbass!"

You shrugged, "Well, I think you did wonderfully."

"How wonderfully?" He asked, looking at you expectantly as he shoved his hands in his pockets, rocking back and forth on his heels.

"Wonderful enough that I'll let you ask me on a date," You smiled, adding, "I mean, according to you, everyone wants me."

He cringed, "How much of that did you hear?"

"Enough to tell you about over dinner, if you'd ask me."

He nodded, straightening himself out, "Y/N, will you go on a date with me?"

You pretended to hesitate, "I don't know, let me think about it..."

Graham's eyes widened, having already fallen victim to your relentless teasing.

You reached for his hand, jokingly checking his pulse, "I was teasing, Mr. Dunne."

Nodding, he grinned, "Friday, at six?"

"I think that could be arranged."

"I won't have to give up a kidney, will I?"

You took his arm, linking it through yours, "Oh, Mr. Dunne, you have so much to learn."

[ywpd-translations]

Ride 759: Pressure

Pag 3

1: Even if the towel gets wet it's still

2: A towel, huh?

4: Ahh, I'm sweaty

Ohh, how lucky, I have the shower room all to myself!

5: What-

Waaaa

6: In the dark!? In the shower!? Midosuji-kun!? And there's so little water

How long has he been taking a shower.... he's really too weird....

Pag 4

1: The water's...

2: stream runs down the limbs and falls on the ground

3: The towel has no power anymore

No meaning

6: But is that really true?

Pag 5

1: What is he mumbling about

Ahhh, please just hurry up and finish your shower

Can I turn on the light... is that okay...

2: I just can't find the meaning

4: If I....

5: take that to be the case!!

7: I found it, in a place like this- the answer!!

Pag 6

6: Oi, Midosuji... kun!!

Pag 7

1: Sohoku's.... those guy's stage is starting

Don't you wanna hear their comments!? They might say something about their strategy...

3: He's not here!? Huh!?

Komari... that guy said he was going for a trial run to look for... “good meat”? And other stuff that didn't make any sense

4: Hatchobori went and followed him... but

Ahh, dammit, has everyone else also gone to the stage and that's why there's no one in the tent?

7: A child!?

Pag 8

2: Who's this kid

3: Ah? In our tent!?

Ah? And that's Midosuji's seat!?

Pag 9

1: This is why I hate kids!!

They don't listen and cry too easily!! And even before the important Inter High, this is so annoying!!

2: Oi, what are you doing, brat

Don't just come in wearing shabby, dirty tank top

Just because it's open doesn't mean you can't come in

3: Oi!!

4: Look at me!!

5: Are you in fifth or sixth grade!?

I'll take you to the main office

Pag 10

2: Huh

It's thick!?

3: Huh!?

4: Huh!?

5: Huh!?

6: Why

Pag 11

1: Funatsu-kuun, are you suddenly grabbing someone's arm

Waaaaaaa

4: It was Midosuji....

It was Midosuji!!

5: It's always been him!?

He looked like an elementary school kid!!

Pag 12

1: Why!?

Funatsu-kuun

Pag 13

1: I was here.... since earlier?

Here....

2: Waaaaaa

3: You said “shabby, dirty kid”

Who was it!?

4: Since the beginning of this year.... he's become even more precise in controlling his pressure

No, no, it was nothing

5: Adding to the way he could look bigger last year, now there are times when he lowers his pressure and looks small!!

Pag 14

4: So... this guy

5: can lower his pressure to the point that he can look the size of a kid at will...?

6: To compete in the Inter High

Pag 15

1: This guy has sharpened both his body and mind tremendously!!

2: Puku!!

3: Uwiii-

5: You really have a tremendous control on your pressure

Pag 16

1: Midosuji-kun

Waaaa Hakogaku's Manami!!

2: Why.... why are you here

Can I come in?

I don't mind

Is that okay!?.... okay then, come in!!

3: Is it okay that you're no watching Sohoku's fantastic stage?

4: That's just a show

It has nothing to do with the race

Pag 17

1: As expected, puku, from the man who only feels joy in running and who's only specialized in running, Manami

2: It's the last Inter High, after all, I came to say hi

3: With your team?

5: It's personal

6: Will we race each other at some point?

For sure

7: Because

Pag 18

1: we want the same thing

2: Ugh!! Ugh.... this guys has a tremendous pressure too!!

3: Oh....

4: Then should we do it....

5: A race

Pag 19

1: After I defeat that Sakamichi!!

Pag 20

1: Yeah

2: I'm different this year, you know?

I've already found the answer!!

[rqgnarok]

dial drunk - tommy miller

fandom: the last of us (tv show and video game)

wc: 2,703

warnings: alcoholism and mentions of alcohol abuse, drunk character, maybe PTSD? pre-outbreak. no use of specific pronouns. 

summary: tommy calls you in the middle of the night, hammered and asking for a favor.

inspired by noah kahan’s dial drunk. author’s note at the end.

masterlist / ao3 / ko-fi

Tommy knows the drill.

He’s been here enough times to recognize the officer pulling him over, asking after his wife and kids as he steps out of the truck on unsteady feet. He’s all Southern charm and pleasantries as he fails his breath test and is unable to walk in a straight line for the officer to see. 

“Come on, man,” he says, aiming for placating and pretty much landing it. He’s not his mama’s favorite for nothing, getting out of trouble Joel would’ve been grounded over when he was his age with big cow eyes and flimsy excuses. “Paperwork’s shit, right? Lemme make a call and someone will take me off your hands for the night.”

The officer tightens his mouth into a grimace, unconvinced.

“Look, if this gets nowhere then I’ll ride with you nice and quiet,” he bargains with as much honesty as one can convey when being the youngest boy in a nice Catholic Texan family. There aren’t better credentials than those when pleading your innocence. “I’ll even play it up in front of your boss to make you look good, yeah? Just one call, promise.”

Hook, line, and sinker. The officer’s shoulders drop a little and he’s offering his cell phone for Tommy to call. “One call. Then you’re done.”

“Yessir.”  

Tommy grins innocently as best as he can with double the legal limit of alcohol in his blood and a phone between his ear and shoulder. The man stands there with his arms crossed looking like he’d rather be anywhere but bringing his ass in for a DUI at two AM on a Wednesday.

“‘lo?” you call sleepily, finally picking up. Tommy doesn’t restrain his victorious grunt. “...Tommy?”

“Hey, sweets,” he slurs a little, clearing his throat. “Sorry for wakin’ you. I need a favor.”

“Tommy,” you say again, tired. If Tommy were any less drunk, he’d realize it’s not lack of sleep that has you sounding like that. He’s shitfaced and thinking about the monumental kick in the ass waiting for him at home when Joel realizes he hotwired and stole his truck to get a drink at the nearest bar. 

“I know, I know, listen,” he cuts you off before you can say anything else, sneaking a look at the officer’s crossed arms and disappointed stance. “You remember the way to the precinct, right? From last time?”

Last time, when Tommy got into a brawl outside a bar he was not supposed to be in, and accepted your worried fussing with barely concealed annoyance, gripping your wrists and taking your hands off his bruised face. You’d driven him to your place because he’d promised Joel to steer clear of trouble for at least a few months, and his breath still reeked of alcohol by the time you came to pick him up.  

You told him then you weren’t doing this again. But you always say that. And you always come when he calls.

Your moms had grown up together in Texas and were ecstatic about the fact that their two littlest ones would come into the world so close together. You and Tommy were inseparable because the universe had dictated it– and nothing could interfere between you. Not his dad dying when he and Joel were still too young, not Tommy having to repeat fifth grade and no longer sharing a classroom with you, not you going off to college and Tommy joining the army straight out of high school.

But then he came home. And he came home different.

The shit he’d seen overseas was nasty, but that’s not what drove him to drink himself stupid every night. At least that’s what he thinks. Soon his habits began seeing the light of day; vodka mixed in his morning coffee and hidden in a water bottle during lunch with the boys at the construction site. Life became a blur when he was drinking and an agonizingly slow nightmare when he wasn’t.

Joel wasn’t the first to notice but he’d been the first to say something about it. Next time you come to my home reeking of a cheap ass bar in front of my kid I’m kicking your ass out. I’m serious, Tommy. This shit has to stop. 

And Tommy had believed him. So he turned to the next person he knew that would do anything for him. You came home from college despite your dreams to outrun this town, and soon it was your number he had memorized even when his brain called it quits and left him alone in his blackouts.

“I do,” you say, and Tommy’s already thinking about sleeping it off on your sorry excuse of a couch. It’s a slow night, only a couple of drunken bums sleeping off their hangovers in a quaint police station in fucking Arlington, Texas. But Tommy would take your couch any day, even if it means fucking up his back for the rest of the week. “But I’m not coming to get you, Tommy. Call Joel.”

“Sweetheart,” he croons into the phone, low and mellow like he’d talk to pretty girls at parties in high school. The same ones you’d go to only because he begged you to come with, acting like a jealous boyfriend when someone wouldn’t leave you alone. “Please. I’ll pay you back, you know I’m good for it.”

He’d put a possessive arm around your waist, standing behind you and smiling icily at whoever was pestering you. We got a problem here?

There’s silence at the other side of the line, sheets rustling. Tommy can picture you sitting up, phone to your ear, biting the inside of your cheek nervously. 

More like Joel is, but hey. He took the big brother act to heart the second Tommy was born. He’s been bailing him out of shit as long as Tommy’s been alive, why would tonight be any different?

Joel, who’s always told him, first jokingly and then not so much, that you were too good for Tommy. Too smart, too kind, with too much integrity for someone like his little brother. 

The older Miller had taken a liking to you pretty soon after Tommy did; wiping the dirt off scraped knees and your tears from chubby child cheeks after placing a bandaid with gentle, unsure fingers. Giving you a ride when you insisted on walking home, leaving the back door open for you whenever being home got too rough for you. 

That man knew you’d be the best thing to ever happen to his brother in his entire life. Too bad the idiot didn’t realize it, pushing your limits until you couldn’t take it any longer. 

“I’m not bailing you out of jail, Tommy,” you sigh, annoyance creeping over the hesitation in your tone. You were never good at saying no to him, even when you were both in diapers and Tommy wanted your dinosaur plushie so bad he threw a tantrum until his mom took him in her arms. “When I said last time was the last time, I meant it. I’m sick of this shit.”

“Come on,” he scoffs, saying your name in a way he knows you hate, like you’re the one being unreasonable. “I’ll give you a kiss and everything. You still like that, don’t you?”

“Fuck you,” you snap on the other side of the line. He knows you well enough to know what buttons to push. Reminding you of your first kiss is a trick he’s never, never pulled on you before, though. “Don’t fucking say that, don’t use that against me.”

You’d been seventeen and without a date to the prom. The guy you were thinking about asking had laughed in your face when you offhandedly mentioned going together and Tommy had refused to let you sulk alone. He’d climbed into your room through your window and wrapped his arm around you the second your lip wobbled, tears wetting your cheeks.

Tell me who I have to kill, he’d said before you ever told him what was wrong. He’s always been like that, hot-headed and protective, especially when it comes to you. Willing to fight anyone who’s ever slightly wronged you but not realizing when he’s done it himself.

You laughed into his shirt, snotty and miserable as he tightened his grip around you. Come on, sweets, fuck that guy. Like he’s even good enough for you.

You confessed with a burning embarrassment how you’d seen yourself kissing him– more out of the need to get your first kiss over with than actual want– and Tommy’s face had gone through a bunch of complicated emotions before settling on something sweet, shy, resolute. He’d thumbed at your chin thoughtfully, fingers just barely brushing over your bottom lip. 

Tommy had his first kiss when he was thirteen with Amy Hill behind the church his mother dragged them to every Sunday morning, but you’d never seen him that nervous. He failed to look into your eyes as he stuttered out his suggestion. If you wanna get it out of the way then maybe– I don’t know. Why not do it with someone who actually cares about you?

You’d looked at him in scrutiny as if you’d never taken a good look at him before. He self-consciously thought about his fair skin and his freckles, if his hair was still a mess from football practice, and if his breath smelled somewhat okay after having that sandwich for lunch. 

You offerin’, Miller?

Yeah, he’d said instead of something stupid like haven’t you heard? I’m a catch. He murmured bashfully, finally meeting your eyes. Yeah, sweets, I guess I am.

He’d licked his lips and drew a path with his fingers from your temple to behind your ear before cupping the side of your jaw, breath hot. Just– punch me in the face or something if you don’t want to.

You hadn’t. He’d closed the gap between you and you kissed him back slowly, hesitantly, diving back in again after he drew away. He was too short of breath for a chaste kiss that had lasted a couple of seconds, and the second time around his tongue flickered past his lips. Your hands on his shirt tightened in response, a helpless sound leaving your mouth that neither of you had been expecting. 

He hadn’t known about your crush then. Maybe that’s when it first started, some Tuesday night with a kiss in your childhood bedroom, but Tommy doesn’t remember ever becoming aware of it. He just knew, suddenly, and enough things had happened in the in-between from then to now for him to consider using it against you.

His drunken brain thinks differently, though.

“Don’t be like that, sweets,” the nickname had never bothered you before, born out of Tommy watching too many old movies one night the babysitter failed to show up and Joel fell asleep on the couch. You’d never questioned him when he started calling you that, probably liking it a little too much for it to be a friendly thing between you. “You can act all high and mighty next time, alright? Just come pick me up before Joel realizes he ain’t got a ride for work tomorrow mornin’.”

“Jesus fucking Christ,” you curse vehemently. You haven’t been to church in the years you’ve been back from college, much to your mama’s dismay. “You know what? Whatever. That’s Joel’s problem now, not mine. Call him.”

“I’m asking you for a favor,” he says through gritted teeth, suddenly irritated. His characteristic charm is gone just like that. “Why are you being so fucking difficult?”

“I’m done watching you wreck your life, Tommy,” you say with finality. He scoffs pettily. “I’m not picking up again, tonight or ever. Call Joel.” 

A click. Then nothing.

He says your name and the dial tone laughs back at him. And Tommy–

Tommy can’t actually believe it. He takes the phone off his ear and stares at it, dumbfounded, like looking at it long enough will get you back on the line. 

He hears the officer blow air out his mouth and the evening suddenly comes into sharpening clearness; the cold November air biting at his face, the taste of whiskey in his mouth. His hands are sweating from where he’s gripping his phone, the tag of his jacket is rubbing uncomfortably against the back of his neck. 

You’ve never hung up on him before.

“That it?” the officer asks with the lack of patience that’s characteristic of the night shift. 

“I– what? No, no,” he shakes his head, already dialing again. “Just– just give me a second.”

“Night ain’t young, man,” he grumbles, already reaching for his cuffs. Tommy takes a step back, suddenly out of his depth. “One call. Time’s up.”

“I’ll– I’ll go okay? I’ll go, just let me– let me call again,” the trembling of his fingers has nothing to do with his current state– Tommy feels like every single drop of alcohol has vaporized from his blood and now he’s left cold and in trouble and alone.

Fuck. Fuck, you’d never hung up on him before.

He calls again, once, twice, before the officer finally loses his patience. “Alright, kid. Whoever you’re callin’ they don’t wanna answer. You can have your one phone call at the precinct. Get someone else, though, huh?”

Tommy doesn’t want to. Tommy shouldn’t have to, a sudden rush of self-righteous anger washing over him with enough force to gridlock his entire body with tension. His jaw tightens and teeth grind together, his shoulders straighten into a taunt, painful line, holding onto the phone so tightly it shakes, the shapes of it making indentations on his skin.

How dare you? How fucking dare you? Friends since fucking birth, does that mean nothing to you? Now you’re throwing him away like a fucking dirty rag? 

Call Joel, you had said, and Joel is enough of an asshole to keep Tommy in the can overnight to teach him a lesson, but you? You two have always looked out for each other, this isn’t how it’s supposed to go–

“I don’t have all night, buddy,” the officer gets his hands on him to take back his phone and beckon him to the car. Tommy flails as an automatic response, fighting back against the unwanted touch. But whether he feels like it or not he’s still drunk and in the blink of an eye he’s got his face against the hood of a police car, red and blue lights hurting his eyes, and a tight hand around the back of his neck keeping him somewhat still. 

The officer mumbles something about Tommy causing more trouble than he’s worth and ain’t that a popular opinion tonight? “You’re gonna cause yourself any more trouble, son?”

Tommy snorts. Son, like the guy’s not just a couple of years older than him. He’s pretty sure they crossed paths once or a hundred times back in high school. 

The ride to the precinct is as uncomfortable as it gets. The heat in the car isn’t working so Tommy’s freezing his ass off in the back of the car, handcuffs digging into his wrists. His nose is bleeding all over his clothes, and hurting like a bitch where the officer had to punch him when Tommy’s fight response wouldn’t quit. 

And you, in the back of his mind. He pictures you asleep after his little interruption and his anger is enough of a fire inside of him to drown out the disbelief, the blatant hurt that threatens to kill him more than his broken nose does. 

He’ll pop the thing back into place later in the cell but this? You? As the hours pass by and clarity regains its home in his awareness, he doesn’t see a way around this. A scenario in which he calls again and you listen, where you talk to him and he doesn’t feel like you kicked him to the curb over fucking nothing. A few drinks. A favor. Best friends, his ass.

He’ll keep calling, though. Even if he has to spend the night in jail because you don’t pick up. He’ll dial drunk until he dies, just for you. 

______

tommy u silly little goose

since noah’s album came out last week i’ve had this song on repeat and i desperately wanted to write a fic about it. idk why my mind instantly went to tommy. i’m thinking of a post-outbreak sequel but i won’t confirm anything until it’s actually in the works. 

thank you so much for reading! i hope you enjoyed it! the lack of tommy fics is astounding to me, especially since gabriel luna is one of the most beautiful and talented men i’ve ever seen. 

reminder that commissions are open and support is always appreciated!

<3

[loveysloveclub]

THE MAN! UMICH AU chapter i. new opportunities arise

in which, molly gets the opportunity of a lifetime.

molly maxwell had never been the type to have any sort of luck on her side.

she passed all her classes, and therefore graduated high school, because she worked hard. she made an all boys hockey team by training everyday and being good at what she does. and her female rugby team won their finals because again, she was good at the sports she played. everything she had in her life, she had because she worked for it.

so, when a video of molly smacking a grown male hockey player into the boards at one of her home games last year vent semi viral on some nhl fanpage, she was feeling pretty lucky. the hit had gotten her sent off for the rest of the game, but she didn't quite care. playing in a male dominated sport on a male dominated team had its ups and downs, and the downs were something molly had become accustomed to. she was treated differently as she was seen as an easy target, and the man in the video had made the mistake of thinking she wouldn't retaliate when he shoved her a little too hard or swiped her feet out from underneath her. molly had no issue breaking a few rules for a few men to get what they deserved.

her luck streak continued when she received an email by someone by the name of brandon naurato, who happened to be the head coach of the mens umich hockey team. molly, who was taking the bus home from practice at the time, almost fell out of her seat when she read the email, asking her to come play for his team.

all events lead up to this exact moment, with molly laying on the floor of her bedroom as clothes surrounded her. her three best friends rummaged through her closet, all discussing how jealous they were that she was going to go to frat parties and meet cute american guys.

mika holland was the newest addition to the group, molly having met her when she was dating one of her teammates. the relationship didn't last long, but molly got a new friend out of it. she was the shortest out of the four, but had the loudest personality. you could hear the girl making inappropriate jokes and laughing at her own jokes from a mile away.

summer smith and molly had once hated each other. constantly at each others necks throughout the first few years on high school. but when they were forced to pair up for an english project in the tenth grade, they quickly found out how similar they were and both abandoned any distasteful feelings the two shared. summer was down for anything, much like molly.

finally, scarlett hamilton, molly's best friend since the fifth grade. the two were always together, where one went the other followed. she would be molly's hardest goodbye, albeit her own mother. the two were never not stirring up some sort of plan to get the rest of the group into trouble. life would become significantly more boring once molly moved away, leaving both troublesome girls to their own devices.

"molly, do you think any of your teammates are gonna be hot?" summer asked as she continued to go through molly's entire closet, throwing things into either the 'yes' or the 'no' pile. "oh my god, you have to get with one. that is the story of the fucking century!" mika exclaimed, following her statement with a loud laugh.

"i'm not getting with one of my teammates, you freak." molly shot back, screwing her face up in distaste. "what a waste of an opportunity." mika retorted, flopping onto molly's bed.

scarlett hummed in agreement before flipping her phone screen around to show the rest of the girls whose instagram she was stalking. it was no surprise that she was stalking the univeristy of michigan's hockey team page. "this one's cute." scarlett zoomed in on one of the players. "i think that's my new captain." molly grimaced before returning to packing her belongings.

the four girls quickly fell into a vast conversation, topics ranging from who summer saw at her grocery store job to whatever scarlett's father had done to piss her off this morning, and finishing when mika got too in depth about her sex life.

and as summer finished packing molly's bag, signalling the end of their last hangout for a while, molly couldn't help but tear up about how much she was going to miss her friends. her only friends. the only people who weren't blood related to ever love her unconditionally.

moving across the world to play hockey was already proving to be the most difficult thing molly had ever done.

and she hadn't even met the team yet.

next chapter

[airplanned]

Castletown Academy

Modern AU.  Link and Zelda both want to send their kidos to the best school around.  Too bad there’s only one spot!

3,000 words.  Rated E for Everyone.  Not beta’d, we die like men.

I’ve been in a weird writing place this week, and wanted to just write a lot all at once and this terrible AU idea came out.  IDEK.  Enjoy!

---

Zelda tried to hide her anxiety, and putting all her effort into that loosened her hold on her tongue so she asked, "Are you also a prospective family?" She could tell already that she was going to ask far too many questions on this tour of Castletown Academy, and get herself labeled "that mom" before they even started. 

If they started.  This was the fifth school she'd toured this week.

The couple sitting across from her in the school office looked up.  "We are!" the woman said with a smile, but the man narrowed his eyes at her, sizing up her and then her son, Ralphie.  Probably trying to figure out what grade he was in to see if he'd be competition for his own child.

This was a very difficult school to get into.

Ralphie was currently huddled in on himself like a little turtle, and he was small for his age, so the man across from them would probably think he was a year younger, if not two.

The couple across from her didn't have their child with them.  This was actually the first time she'd brought Ralphie, since she'd finally lost all patience with his last school and pulled him out.  He'd miss the last two weeks and come with her to the office, but she was not sending him back there.

For the millionth time, she second guessed her decision, but then shoved the doubt way.  Which meant that more talking happened.

"What grade is your child in?" she asked.

"Second and Kindergarten."

"Raphie's also going into second."

"How wonderful!" the woman said.  She smiled at him in a kindly way as if she really believed that.

The man tensed even more.  Ralphie was a threat.

Zelda was far too tired to deal with that.

The door opened, and a man hurried into the office, pulling a little girl behind him.  The smile on Zelda's face froze.  

The man clapped eyes on her, and his eyes widened for just a fraction of a second, before he cleared his throat and hurried his kid into the room to join them.

Zelda followed his lead and ignored him, reaching a hand down for Ralphie to squeeze her fingers.

She'd seen the man at three of the other school tours.  He was quiet, keeping his opinions to himself, and--unlike Zelda--he offered up very little information about himself or his daughter.  From the few questions he'd asked, she'd gathered that his daughter had an interest in math and science, and he was especially interested in the rigor of the curriculum.  She’d gathered from one of their tour guides that his daughter had already applied to different schools and gotten partial scholarships.  At every tour, they had known who the man was, and they'd been absolutely ecstatic to have his daughter join them.

Why he'd visited so many schools was a complete mystery to Zelda.  It was almost rude, in fact, that he kept showing up.

His daughter was also going into the second grade.

They were so obviously in competition with each other, and the man's daughter was so obviously winning.  Two school visits ago, their tour guide's smile had cracked as soon as Zelda had said Ralphie was going into second grade. Her eyes darting to the man and back. "Well.  We do have limited space of course.  To keep class sizes small.  You understand."  Then she had practically ignored Zelda for the rest of the tour.

Infuriating.  

(The man did look a bit uncomfortable, and had spoken even less than usual, but that might have been because their academics were clearly not up to his standards.  They weren't really up to Zelda's either, and she didn't want to be somewhere where they would treat people so poorly. Not again.)

The last school they'd visited, she had felt the tide pull yet again in the man's favor, and in desperation asked, "When was the last time your auditorium was refurbished?...Oh!  Perhaps a wealthy donor could assist with that."  And suddenly Zelda had the tour guide's attention.

It was not her finest moment.  In fact, she immediately felt such queasy, hot shame at the way the man had looked away and swallowed hard that she vowed to herself not to do it again.  (At least not until Ralphie was a student, at which point she would donate whatever was needed.)

She'd consoled herself that she probably wouldn't see the man again, and she could live with one person out there, who didn't know her name, thinking she was a completely selfish wealthy monster.

But now here he was.  With his daughter.  Who apparently loved math and science.  And was cute as a button with dirty blond hair done up in an elaborate braid with little wisps of it flying loose.

She came straight up to Ralphie and said, "I'm Flora.  What's your name?"

Ralphie shifted closer to Zelda, pressing against her arm, refraining from hiding behind her simply because they were sitting.  Zelda lifted a hand to his shoulder and squeezed.

"Oh!" the girl said.  "You're shy.  Do you want me to go away, or can I sit by you?  I talk a lot, but you don't have to talk back, if you don't want."

"You...can sit here," Ralphie said, his voice quiet.  He leaned less against Zelda.

Flora beamed and slipped into place beside him.

Zelda lifted her eyes to the man's, and for a tense moment, they stared at each other, wariness and embarrassment that they wouldn't address in front of their children warring between them.  She dropped her eyes first as heat crept up her neck.

Flora plopped into her seat, already talking about how pretty the floor was.  It was a hounds-tooth tile done in granite, and it was very shiny, which Flora appreciated.  A moment later the man took the seat next to his daughter.

Flora dominated the conversation in the office, nearly pulling Zelda in twice, and finally getting Ralphie to tell her his name and how old he was and that his favorite subject was Library.

Ralphie liked to hide in the library during recess.  And gym.  And sometimes Art and Music and math centers.  The librarian let him hide under an unused desk, handing him a book and a camp lantern.  Then she'd send Zelda a text.

A low quiet voice startled her.  "Have you been to the public library?  Flora and I go there."

Her head snapped up to see the man smiling softly at Ralphie, giving him plenty of attention and kind interest.

"Sometimes.  The school librarian gets me enough books tho."

"My school doesn't have a library!" Flora announced proudly.  "But I heard this school has one.  I want to see it."

Ralphie nodded.  "Me too."

Zelda couldn't not say anything about that.  "I'm certain there won't be a need to hid--to visit as often here."

Ralphie looked as if he didn't believe her, his shoulders sneaking back up around his ears.

She sucked in a breath to say more, how this school would be different, how she was going to keep him safe, how they were turning over a new leaf where he could finally feel comfortable.  But she stopped herself.  Saying such things in public would embarrass him.

She squeezed his arm again.  "This school will be better."

"So much better!" Flora said.  "I heard they have a math club!  And they won a trophy!"

Zelda laughed.  "You want to join math club?"

"Yeah, and then I'll have a trophy too."

Zelda darted a look at the man, who gave his daughter a fond smile.

He really should be proud of her.

His eyes lifted to hers.  Then darted down to Ralphie and back in question.

Zelda tightened her jaw and looked away.

Their guide for the hour appeared, the assistant principal if Zelda remembered correctly.  The woman greeted them all as they stood.

"John and Mira Saddelwell," the grumpy man said, shaking the vice principal's hand.

"Link," Flora's father said.

"Zelda."

"I'm Flora, and this is Ralphie.  He doesn't talk a lot."

"Well, hello Ralphie and Flora!"  The assistant principal bowed towards them, bracing her hands on her knees.  "Would you like me to show you our school?"

"Yeah!"

And with that Flora grabbed Ralphie's hand and skipped after the assistant principal.  Ralphie barely had to be dragged along.

***

The school had a robotics team.  Because of course the school had a robotics team.

Flora was in heaven, and Link had no idea what he was going to do when they finally told him the cost of tuition.  He really should have not brought her, but he hadn't had any other child care. 

Flora and the little boy she'd adopted watched in awe as an older student patiently explained the robot arm he was working on.  The older kid was a Sophomore (or so they'd been told when the woman--Zelda--had asked).  Kids as young as third grade could join robotics club, which was tutored by some of the high school students.  They couldn't enter competitions until junior high, but by then their team had several years experience under their belts and always crushed the competition.

Maye they had scholarships.  Maybe he could get a second job.  Maybe it wouldn't be as bad as--

The robot arm moved, much to the kids' delight. 

Yeah, no.  Tuition was going to be bad.

But they had a great math and science curriculum, and the junior high and high school science teachers and won so many awards a few years back that there had been some drama about renaming the school the Castletown Science Academy, at which point the English department had pushed back with a vengeance, citing the high school students' publications in national literary magazines and poetry contests and famous alumni who were now writers.  They got one of the most decorated journalists in the country to come give a rather pointed talk about how much her Junior year English teacher had inspired her.  Later the same week the national poet laureate dedicated a poem to her alma mater, and the matter was dropped.

So.  Yeah.  It was a good school.

The best school.

And the assistant principal was strongly hinting that Flora would be accepted.

It was kind of embarrassing.  He wished they wouldn't be so obvious.  She would get in, and he'd have to tell her no.  And in the mean time all the other parents would glare at him.

Zelda had given up glaring at him a bit this time.  Maybe because her son was there.  She looked softer when she looked at him, and putting the pieces together, some of her anxious desperation was starting to make sense.

This time, it was the other family that was giving him the stink eye.  He avoided eye contact and ignored them completely.

It didn't surprise him when half way down the next hall, Zelda asked, "What's your bullying policy?"  She'd asked that on previous tours, along with dozens of other questions, and Link hadn't paid much attention because it seemed as if she wanted every bit of information about everything.  Now that he'd seen her kid, and the way he'd melted with Flora's kindness, now he was getting the picture.

"We have a zero tolerance policy," Ms. Jones said.  "It's clearly laid out in our student handbook.  I'll be sure to get you a copy.  But honestly, we rarely have issues.  At the elementary level, we have a socio-emotional curriculum.  It focuses a lot on identifying and expressing their emotions in constructive ways.  The kids really do take it to heart."

That was true if what Link had seen so far was to be believed.  The few classes they peeked in, the kids actively helped one another and seemed to listen to each other in ways he'd never seen before in a school.  Even that high school kid who had shown them the robot was weirdly patient.

Flora actually might have trouble with all that.  But if she could learn to chill out a bit when she got frustrated and bored and annoyed at people disturbing her work, that would be awesome.

That was part of why they needed to change schools.

"Here's our music room," Ms. Jones announced, showing them through a door.  "There's no class right now, but you can meet Mr. Bosk."  The music room was large with chairs in stadium seating and shelves of books and small percussion instruments along one wall, lockers for real orchestra instruments along another, and a set of white boards, one of which had a music staff printed on it and a little tune drawn out in magic marker.

As Mr. Bosk introduced himself and explained what the elementry school kids were working on, Ralphie scooted closer and closer to towards the grand piano at the front of the room, dragging Flora along as if they were connected by magnets.

"Oh!" Mr. Bosk said, noticing the kids once they were close enough to reach out and touch it.  "Do you play the piano?  Or would you like to learn?"

Ralphie nodded, tucking both his hands behind his back to show he wasn't going to touch the piano.

The music teacher smiled.  "Would you play something for me?"

The kid looked to his mom, who nodded encouragingly.  "We'd all love to hear it."

Strangely, the kid's eyes then turned to Link, who mimiced his mom's nod.

That got the kid to sit.  His little feet hung from the bench so he couldn't reach the pedals, but his spine suddenly straightened.  And then he started to play.

The lady married to the grumpy guy audibly gasped.

It was a classical piece they'd all heard before, technically a bit challenging, but played with a fluidity that was rare to see in children.  His head bounced along to keep time.

When he finished, Flora squealed, "That was so good!" 

Zelda beamed with pride.  It was a good look on her.  Much better than the worry she seemed to always wear.  And really, she ought to be proud after a performance like that. 

"That was excellent, young man!" the music teacher said.  His eyes sparkled as if he was suddenly planning out the entire music program next year to revolve around this kid.

Ralphie ducked his head.  Quietly, he said, "It's easier to talk with my hands."

Flora gasped, then tapped him on the shoulder and signed, "You talk with your hands?!"

Aww geeze.

Then, shockingly, Ralphie signed back, "You know sign!?"

"My dad taught me!"

Zelda's head snapped around to face Link, and suddenly her hands were flying.  "Where did you learn sign?"

Oh.  Oh geeze. 

"I was selectively mute as a kid.  Now Flora talks enough for the both of us."

Across the room, Flora was showing Mr. Bosk how she knew how to play chopsticks and explaining that her dad played the piano, but they didn't have one in their apartment any more, and Mr. Bosk was saying, "Oh, that's very nice," while also telling Ralphie about the different opportunities that would be available for him to play the piano at school.

Zelda looked at him as if she was seeing him for the first time.  "Ralphie's the same way."

"He seems like a sweet kid."

"He is."  Then, "I wish I could be half as sweet."

Link hesitated.  "Don't know about that. Wouldn't want you to melt in the rain."

The corner of her mouth lifted, and--oh.  Oh no, she was pretty.

The grumpy man lifted his voice and interrupted.  "Let's get down to it.  How likely is my kid to get in here?"

Every adult in the room tensed.  Ms. Jones cleared her throat.  "Second grade is very competitive this year.  We only have one open spot."  Link's stomach twisted.  At least when he and Flora had to turn the spot down, Ralphie might get it.

"But we do of course make accommodations for siblings.  We look at each child's application individually, and determine admissions, but then if one sibling got in, we would admit both."  She smiled at the grumpy couple.

Then she turned, and smiled at Link and Zelda.

Not one of them and then the other.  The two of them together.

As if this information would be relevant.

The grumpy couple relaxed, and fell into a hushed conversation about how their younger child might be able to get in.

Link and Zelda held absolutely still.  Neither one of them seemed to be breathing.

At the end of the tour, back in the main office, Ms. Jones handed Zelda the code of conduct, and handed Link and the grumpy couple a folder with information about how to apply.  The first page in the folder pocket had a chart with tuition.

The price for two elementary school kids was highlighted, and that was so weird that Link didn't manage to feel sick at the price.  Instead, he felt a little dizzy.

He felt as if he were outside himself, looking down as he asked, "Can we get another copy?" and for reasons he couldn't explain added, "I'm known to lose things."

He passed the folder over to Zelda so she would see the highlighted price.  She would see the suggestion hanging between them in bright yellow.

Her voice sounded strange when she asked, "Is this amount good for step siblings as well?"

"Yes, of course!"

Link swallowed.

The kids skipped down the stairs outside as they left, Ralphie actually laughing.

Link and Zelda had yet to look at each other.

"I..." he started, then had to swallow and start again.  "I was going to take Flora for ice cream.  If the two of you want to join us."

She bit her lip, watching the kids.  Quietly, she said, "She's a shoe in, isn't she?"

"The word genius has been kicked around a few times, yes.  She's too bored at school.  And when she gets bored, she...makes her own projects.  Those get disruptive, and the administration has strongly suggested we find somewhere else that's better suited."

Zelda nodded.  Then turned and looked at him.  "But you don't have the money."

He swallowed down the embarrassment, because it was a useless thing to be embarrassed about.  "I don't have the money.  She's got a full scholarship already to Mabe Elementary.  That--you remember it."  It was okay.  Not the best.  Not here. "And we're on the wait list for the National Academy, which is free." He sighed.  

"It's...hard as a single parent," she said.

"Smooth."

"Thank you.  Your...wife?"

"She died.  When Flora was very small."

"I'm so sorry."

He let it pass.  "Your husband?"

"We weren't married, and he's not in the picture."

"Ah."

For a moment she said nothing, just staring at him.  "I really want Ralphie to come here."

Link nodded.  "This would be good for him.  He's already coming out of his shell."

"That's your daughter."

"Well.  I think he'll do well here even without her."

They stared at each other.

"I have an idea," she said.

He huffed laugh, because...what?  This was ridiculous.  How desperate did they have to be to even consider...He dragged a hand through his hair. "I don't even know where we'd start with that."

"Let's...let's start with ice cream."  She nodded, the matter settled.  The ball rolling.

He took a breath and nodded.  "Ice cream."

[battyaboutbooksreviews]

🌙 Books for Arab American Heritage Month 🌙

🌙 Good morning, bookish bats, and Eid Mubarak to those who are celebrating. Eid al-Fitr ("the feast of breaking the fast") marks the end of Ramadan, an Islamic holy month of fasting and sacrifice. April is also Arab American Heritage month, which celebrates the 3.7 million Arab Americans across the country. This is an opportunity to combat Anti-Arab bigotry by challenging stereotypes and prejudices.

✨ One of the best ways to do so is to read books ABOUT Arab Americans. To help, here are a few books for Arab American Heritage Month you can read, discuss, or add to your ever-growing TBR!

[ List under the cut. ]

✨ Growing up, I didn't have books that represented my experiences as an Arab or Muslim American. My friends didn't have stories to read that could help them understand my perspective. With that in mind, I added children's books on the last slide, for the moms out there searching for diverse books--books that allow us to empathize and understand different perspectives and experiences.

🌙 A Woman Is No Man - Etaf Rum ✨ The Other Americans - Laila Lamami 🌙 You Exist Too Much - Zaina Arafat ✨ Grape Leaves - Gregory Orfalea and Sharif Elmusa 🌙 The Wrong End of the Telescope - Rabih Alameddine ✨ The Beauty of Your Face - Sahar Mustafah 🌙 Martyr - Kaveh Akbar ✨ Between Two Moons - Aisha Abdel Gawad 🌙 Tasting the Sky - Ibtisam Barakat ✨ A Game for Swallows - Zeina Abirached 🌙 Love Is An Ex-Country - Randa Jarrar ✨ The Thirty Names of Night - Zeyn Joukhadar

🌙 I Was Their American Dream - Malaka Gharib ✨ A Country Called Amreeka - Alia Malek 🌙 A Theory of Birds - Zaina Alsous ✨ Against the Loveless World - Susan Abulhawa 🌙 Arab in America - Toufic El Rassi ✨ The Skin and Its Girl - Sarah Cypher 🌙 Sex and Lies - Leïla Slimani ✨ Loom - Thérèse Soukar Chehade 🌙 Birds of Paradise - Diana Abu-Jaber ✨ Come With Me - Noami Shihab Nye 🌙 Girls of Riyadh - Rajāʼ ʻAbd Allāh Ṣāniʻ ✨ How Does It Feel to Be a Problem? - Moustafa Bayoumi

🌙 Evil Eye - Etaf Rum ✨ The Girl Who Fell to Earth - Sophia Al-Maria 🌙 What Strange Paradise - Omar El Akaad ✨ Girls That Never Die - Safia Elhillo 🌙 Bahari - Dina Macki ✨ Life Without a Recipe - Diana Abu-Jaber 🌙 Egyptian Diary - Richard Platt ✨ Man O'War - Cory McCarthy 🌙 The Cave - Amani Ballour, MD ✨ The Map of Salt and Stars - Zeyn Joukhadar 🌙 They Called Me a Lioness - Ahed Tamimi and Dena Takruri ✨ Salt Houses - Hala Alyan

🌙 Arabiyya - Reem Assil ✨ Mornings in Jenin - Susan Abulhawa 🌙 Shubeik Lubeik - Deena Mohamed ✨ The Wrong End of the Telescope - Rabih Alameddine 🌙 Conditional Citizens - Laila Lamami ✨ An Unnecessary Woman - Rabih Alameddine 🌙 It Won't Always Be Like This - Malaka Gharib ✨ Proud - Ibtihaj Muhammad 🌙 The Land in Our Bones - Layla K Feghali ✨ Everything Comes Next - Naomi Shihab Nye 🌙 The Immortals of Tehran - Ali Araghi ✨ Starstruck - Sarafina El-Badry Nance

🌙 Our Women on the Ground - Various ✨ The Jasad Heir - Sara Hashem 🌙 Tell Me How You Really Feel - Aminah Mae Safi ✨ Surge - Etel Adnan 🌙 Here to Stay - Sara Farizan ✨ We Hunt the Flame - Hafsah Faisal 🌙 A Tempest of Tea - Hafsah Faizal ✨ The Bad Muslim Discount - Syed M. Masood 🌙 A Girl Like That - Tanaz Bhathena ✨ Not the Girls You're Looking For - Aminah Mae Safi 🌙 All-American Muslim Girl - Nadine Jolie Courtney ✨ The Moon That Turns You Back - Hala Alyan

🌙 Ms. Marvel - Destined - Saladin Ahmed ✨ Americanized: Rebel Without a Green Card - Sara Saedi 🌙 Internment - Samira Ahmed ✨ Stardust Thief - Chelsea Abdullah 🌙 Once Upon an Eid - Various ✨ Farah Rocks Fifth Grade - Susan Muaddi Darraj 🌙 Barakah Beats - Maleeha Siddiqui ✨ Amira's Picture Day - Reem Faruqi 🌙 The Tale of Princess Fatima, Warrior Woman ✨ Lailah's Lunchbox - Reem Faruqi 🌙 In My Mosque - M.O. Yuksel ✨ Halal Hot Dogs - Susannah Aziz

🌙 The Proudest Blue - Ibtihaj Muhammad ✨ Silverworld - Diana Abu-Jaber 🌙 Other Words for Home - Jasmine Warga ✨ Time to Pray - Maha Addasi 🌙 Under My Hijab - Hena Khan ✨ Wishing Upon the Same Stars - Jacquetta Nammar Feldman 🌙 Amina's Voice - Hena Khan ✨ Yasmin the Recycler - Saadia Faruqi 🌙 The Shape of Thunder - Jasmine Warga ✨ Deep in the Sahara - Kelly Cunnane, Hoda Hadadi 🌙 The Turtle of Michigan - Naomi Shihab Nye ✨ Shad Hadid and the Alchemists of Alexandria - George Jreije