#hangs with a capital H

[slashfuhrer]

sacred deer x saltburn x reddit

[chamerionwrites]

While these protests succeeded in disrupting normal operations at the targeted arms companies, they were unable to meaningfully halt the manufacture of weapons, in part because the group best poised to shut down production was conspicuously absent from each of the actions: the companies’ workers. More than two million US workers are employed by the weapons industry, which produces over 80% of all of Israel’s arms imports, including “precision guided munitions, small diameter bombs, artillery, ammunition, Iron Dome interceptors and other critical equipment,” according to the Pentagon, as well as F-35 aircraft—the most advanced fighter jets in the world. In the past month and a half, Israel has used these weapons in a genocidal assault that has killed more than 14,000 Palestinian civilians in Gaza, at least 5,600 of them children. The violence has prompted direct action against the Israeli war machine’s supply chain, with protesters targeting not only munitions factories but also ships transporting arms to Israel and financial firms with significant investments in the weapons industry. But unlike in many other parts of the world, where weapons workers have led the disruption in response to an urgent call for solidarity from Palestinian trade unions, in the US, unions in the weapons industry have so far remained outside the fray.

This is despite the presence of tens of thousands, if not hundreds of thousands, of unionized workers in the US weapons industry, some of whom are employed at the very factories that protesters have attempted to shut down this fall. As journalist Taylor Barnes reported earlier this year, each of the five major Pentagon contractors—Lockheed Martin, Boeing, Northrop Grumman, Raytheon, and General Dynamics—employs some unionized workers, although union density at the firms ranges from as low as 4% at Northrop Grumman to as high as 32% at Boeing. Many of these unionized workers belong either to the International Association of Machinists (IAM), or to the United Auto Workers (UAW), which is part of a renaissance in the US labor movement. Both unions include employees at Boeing, Lockheed Martin, Raytheon, and General Dynamics; the IAM additionally represents workers at Northrop Grumman and M7 Aerospace, a wholly owned subsidiary of the infamous Elbit Systems, while the UAW represents workers at Woodward, Inc., an aerospace firm that gained unwanted attention last month after a viral photo from the ruins of Gaza appeared to show a used missile component with the company’s logo on it. The unions are also actively organizing more workers in the weapons industry: Just last month, for example, the IAM unionized 332 Lockheed employees in Kentucky.

For anti-war labor organizers in the United States, unionized weapons workers present a paradox: Serving such members ostensibly requires making weapons industry jobs stable and remunerative, but the principles of global solidarity call for dismantling the war machine altogether. Traditionally, US unions have only pursued the former mandate. As one anonymous local union president in the industry put it to researcher Karen Bell earlier this year, “my top priority is trying to make sure that we have work in jobs in the United States . . . I don’t make a lot of judgments on anything other than, what can you do to keep the people I represent in work? That’s my job, and to be anything other than that, it would really be a disservice to the people that are paying my salary.” Rather than questioning their role in the industry, unions have reconfirmed their relationships with weapons companies since the start of Israel’s assault on Gaza. Last month, 1,000 IAM members in Arizona and 1,100 UAW members across the Midwest separately ratified new contracts with Raytheon and General Dynamics respectively, during a period when both companies were actively implicated in the mass killing of Palestinian civilians. When the Raytheon contract deal was announced on October 22nd, one IAM leader said he was “proud to support our Raytheon members and excited for this contract’s positive impact on their lives”—a statement that highlights the seemingly irreconcilable conflict between the economic interests of weapons industry workers and the anti-war, anti-genocide movement.

[k20spock]

I don’t talk about it here much but I do think it’s crucial that anyone hoping to understand me knows I was a horse girl

[imwritingthefout]

after session hangout

basically you fall in love with the dm of your campaign in college: Ford pines, smut ensues

This is crossposted to ao3 so if you wanna go read it there, here’s the link:

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Waking up each day to the same old ceiling was starting to bore you. 

Ever since moving out of your parents house for college you felt like a stranger in the dorm you now called ‘home’, and It didn't help that you refused to decorate it. 

Getting out of your plain old bed, you stand up and push away the blinds with a tug, the light from the early morning sun blinding you temporarily. You glance down at your clock; 6:30am, thursday. The time isn't the part that excites you though, it's the day. Today is the day you look forward to all week: Dd&md day! 

You go to get ready for your morning class, excited for what the future of today may hold. You love dd&md, its been your favourite game since you were a child -even though you had no one to play it with back then, you got creative (no goat was harmed in your past attempts at playing the game).

Your classes went by in a blur. Of course you were taking notes and whatnot, it was important to pay attention! But in secret, you were drawing your character all over the side of your notebook and thinking of strategies on how to defeat the next dungeon your dm set up for you.

And then there was your dm. 

One of the many reasons you adored thursdays was because you got to play dd&md of course, but other than that there was another big reason you liked thursdays.

To put it plainly: your dm, Stanford Pines was Hot. like, capital H Hot. you couldn't get over his warm brown eyes that sparkled with passion whenever he detailed the characters he was playing. His hands that moved with his every word, adding to the description of the imaginary world he was building. God you wanted to feel those hands on you. What would they feel like, intertwined with your own, on your hips while he-

You decided to stop that train of thought. As much as you liked him, you also respected him enough to know that he would probably never feel that way towards you, and you shouldn't fantasise about him like that (even though it was hard not to).

And though he was Hot, that wasn't the only reason you liked him. You liked him because he was smart, compassionate, funny and so very cute.

What can you say? You had a thing for nerds.

As your last class of the day finished finished up, you quickly packed up your things and rushed to the old building next to the dorms that housed your favourite room in the whole campus: the old meeting room you guys used to house your dd&md sessions! 

The room wasn't glorious, it was just an old meeting room that's been out of use for years. But to you, that room was the home of your imagination. It held a special place in your heart, and you were sure it was the same for the rest of your party.

Speaking of which, you saw Fiddleford approach you down the old hallway, little puffs of dust kicking up with each of his steps. “Hey Fidds! You ready for today’s session?” you yelled to him slightly as he approached. “Ready as I'll ever be! You won't believe what I have planned in order to kick that sorcerer's butt!” he gave your shoulder a weak punch and opened the door with his key.

Usually, the old building was out of commission. But since Fiddleford knew a guy who works as campus security and convinced him to give him the key, you had full access to the building to do whatever you pleased. Of course for you, anything just means playing dd&md, not causing a mess and cleaning up after yourselves as much as possible in order to not inconvenience anyone. You knew that other people your age would throw huge parties and wreck the place, but you weren't that kind of person, really. You just liked having a quiet place to play your games and hang out with your friends. Fiddleford was like that too, that's how he got the key in the first place; because his friend trusted him not to mess up the place.

As you walked inside, you saw the table set out just how you guys left it last week: the long rectangular table set up in the middle of the room, with seven chairs set out all around the table, one for each player and one for your dm. A whiteboard behind the dm’s seat that shows the map of the fantasy world you are currently in the middle of exploring, and cork board on another wall with a bunch of graph paper pinned to it.

You walk around the table, taking your regular seat across from Fiddleford. “So what do you think Ford's planning for this session?” you ask Fidds. This is your usual routine: get to the building early, wait for Fidds and ask him if he has any intel for the session since his roommate is Ford. “like usual, i can’t tell you, it'll ruin the fun!” Fidds exclaimed, although the grin on his face told you he likes this familiar back and forth. 

You eased into a casual conversation from there, talking about your days as you waited for everyone else. You liked coming early because then you had more time to talk with Fidds and, of course, with Ford.

You met Fidds on the first day of the semester, when you sat next to each other in the freshman orientation presentation, and hit it off from there. you became friends rather quickly, bonding over the fact that you were both far away from home with no friends in town. You decided to help him move into his dorm after the presentation, and that's when you met Ford.

At first, you were a bit speechless at the guy in front of you. His outfit was the usual scholar's outfit of a white button up shirt with a brown vest on top, but then he was wearing jeans in order to look more ‘casual’ as he put it. His hair was neat and tidy and his glasses framed his face perfectly, at least in your opinion. You introduced yourself awkwardly, and once he introduced himself as Stanford Pines, a parapsychology major with aspirations for 12 phd’s in the next five years, you knew you were in over your head. You can't have a crush on a super-genius! What if he turns out to be an arrogant asshole? But you couldn't help developing feelings for him as you got closer. He wasn't just a super-genius, he was also kind and compassionate, understanding and just a good friend. That's when you decided to just stay friends with Ford, you couldn't afford to lose such a good friend.

Speaking of which, the man himself comes into the room, holding a stack of books detailing the rules and monsters of dd&md, a satin sack full of dice and his dm screen. You can barely see his face behind all of the things he's carrying, and immediately you jump up to help him carry everything. He silently thanks you for the help and starts setting his stuff up while you go back to your seat. “Hey guys, how've you been since last week?” Ford asks you two. “Oh i've been well, you know. Dealing with you every day can be challenging but I manage somehow” Fidds says dramatically and you stifle a giggle. Ford gives Fidds a death glare before turning to you “and how are you?” he asks with a smile that makes your knees weak. “I'm good!” you proclaim a little too loudly and cough to hide your blush “yes i'm good, just the usual classes and such” you say in a normal voice (or at least what you hope is a normal voice, it doesn't help that Fidds looks at you cheekily, already knowing your secret crush on his roomate) “how have you been?” you ask him. 

“Just the usual: doing homework, studying and building up today’s session” you catch on to the last part as a potential way to continue the conversation. “Well, what do you have planned for today?”. “Oh come on now, it wouldn't be fun to just spoil the game for you, would it?” he says and points to you to emphasise his point. “You can't even give us an outline? Something?” you pout a little and Ford gives in “fine… I may have something up my sleeve for today, and I can guarantee you won't see it coming this time! That's all I'm going to say for now though” he jabs his finger at you, trying to seem angry that you caught onto his plans last time, but his little smile gives him away. 

Soon your other party members start filing in and you all start the session. 

It goes as usual, you all mess around for a bit before getting serious. You can confidently say you saw the twist Ford put in this session coming, it was obvious how the wizard was actually a party member’s son, they had so many similarities! After another successful session, everyone leaves for their respective houses, leaving you, Fidds and Ford alone in the room to clean up.

“I can't believe you saw that coming again! I swear you're like a sorcerer in real life” Ford chuckles and Fidds adds “that would also explain how you get here before me every time! I swear I ran to get here today and you still beat me here!” “well what can i say guys? I'm just magical in every way!” you strike a silly but confident pose as Ford and Fidds laugh at your antics. “Oh shoot! I promised my friend i’d go on a blind date today, could you guys lock up this time? Ford you can just give me the keys tomorrow morning if i get lucky” Fidds winks and Ford rolls his eyes “alright, we get it, you can go”. Fidds leaves the keys on the desk and almost sprints out of the room.

You and Ford clean up the mess on the desk in silence before Ford decides to break it “how do you keep predicting my twists anyways? I swear it was supposed to come out of nowhere but you're too smart” you blush a little at the compliment “thank you, i guess i’m just good at guessing twists. But you do make it kind of easy. I mean, a secret relative of someone close? It’s kind of a cliche don't you think?” he pulls at the collar of his button up shirt and you can immediately tell something is wrong.

“Yeah.. I guess it is kind of cliche, but it's what fits the character, don't you think?” he says with a guilty tone. “Ford, what's wrong? I feel like you're hiding something” you get close enough to put a reassuring hand on his shoulder “you can tell me anything, i wont judge” you add, trying to coax him into telling you what's wrong.

“Well… I guess I brought the secret relative from my own life because… well… I have a twin brother….” the sentence doesn’t completely shock you, but it is still somewhat of a surprise “why do you never mention him? Did something happen between you two?” he chuckles a bit before saying “still as perceptive as ever, huh?” you blush a bit as he continues, looking out into the middle distance in thought

“Me and my brother were really close when we were young, we would do everything together. But as time went on, we grew apart. He didn't like the fact that I wanted to go away to a fancy college, especially because he knew he couldn't follow me there. I was working on a machine to impress the college, but on the day of the showing it stopped working. My own brother sabotaged my future. We had a big falling out over it and that’s why I'm here instead….” you empathised with Ford, but you couldn't help but question some things about his story.

“I know it must have been hard to deal with the fact you lost your ticket to the college of your dreams, but do you really believe your brother would sabotage you? If he loves you, wouldn't he want to support you? Maybe it was an accident and he didn't mean to destroy your project?” Ford looks lost in thought again before replying “i… it's foolish but i never thought of it that way…” he looks at you with thankfulness in his eyes and you can't help but smile up at him “you should maybe sort this out with him? Talk to him about what actually happened and if he meant to hurt you?” 

“God you're right… Thank you! This changes everything! I'm so glad I could just kiss you!” 

….

It takes him a second to realise what he said and blush at the thought of actually kissing you. You just stare at him dumbly for a second until your brain processes what he said.

He wants to kiss you?

Well this took a turn for the better.

“Do you really mean that?” you ask him with hope in your eyes

“Well… yeah, of course. Why wouldn’t i? Look at you” he finds that it's suddenly very important you understand how much he wants to kiss you. “Wow… i- i didn't know you felt the same…” you say softly and look down. He says your name and puts his hand on your cheek and lifts up your face to meet his eyes “i like you. More than as a friend. Would you… let me kiss you?” he looks at you nervously for a moment before you close the gap between you two and kiss him yourself.

The kiss feels electrifying. As your soft lips meet his you put your arms around his neck to pull him closer. You realise he smells exactly how you thought he would; of old books and aftershave. His hands find your waist and rub gentle circles with his thumbs into your skin. You pull away after a little and touch your forehead with his “you have no idea how long i've wanted to do that” you whisper gently.

“Me too” and he goes back to kissing you, this time he takes the lead. You tighten yourself around him until your chests meet, his hands move down to your hips and he pulls you onto his lap in one swoop. You gently bite his lip as he groans into your open lips. He then moves down to kiss from your jaw to your neck, leaving the occasional love bite. You sigh at his bites until he gets to your collarbones. “Do you…. Want to do this?” he breathes the question against your skin, the feeling of him against you makes you shudder. “Yes. im sure”. He straightens up from excitement and goes back to kissing you collarbone, now more eager than ever as his hands travel past the hem of your shirt and up to your bra. Meanwhile your hands go down to feel him underneath you.

“Someone is excited” you smirk as he breaths heavily against you. 

“Very” his response falls heavy against you as he unclasps your bra (with only a little bit of a struggle) and his hands move to massage your breasts. You moan as he pinches your nipples in between his fingers. You lower your head to bite at his shoulder to stifle another moan from falling out of your lips- “No” he says and moves his shoulder to get you to stop muffling your sounds. “I want to hear you”. The thought of him wanting to hear you like this makes you blush and sends a bolt of pleasure down your spine. “Y-yes’’ 

You intend to start massaging him through his pants but he beats you to it, moving his hand down into your pants. You help him take off your pants and underwear (with a lot of struggle because of your position) and he suddenly picks you up and places you on the table. The cold desk underneath you only adds to the pleasure as he caresses your side before moving his hand down to finally touch you. 

His hand caresses your folds and feels how wet you are, and you moan from the feeling of his thick fingers on your sensitive skin. “Damn, you feel so good” he whimpers at how you feel before kissing your breasts and plunging his index finger inside you. “A-ah~” you sigh as he moves his hand so his thumb is circling your clit. 

He continues pumping his finger inside of you for a second before adding a second one and speeding up the pace. If he continues like this you wont last long. Almost as if he can hear your thoughts, he stops and goes down onto his knees, his face in front of your core. “Can I please taste you?” he asks innocently, as if his request isn't the most dirty thing you've heard him say. Thinking about it makes you even more aroused -if that's even possible at this point- and you hastily agree.

Not even a second after he sees you nod does he jump into your pussy, his tongue plunging into you and licking you from the inside. His nose bumps into your clit as he moves to taste and lick you even more. Your breath hitches and you moan loudly as he begins sucking at your clit, toying and teasing it with his tongue. “Please F-Ford” you manage to say in between moans. He groans against you and the vibrations send a wave of pleasure through you.

He suddenly brings his fingers back into you, curling them just right, hitting that spongy spot inside you that sends you over the edge. 

You briefly hear him let out a broken “Fu-uck” as your orgasm ripples through you in waves. Ford helps you ride out your high as he continues fingering you and licking at your clit. You have to push him off of you as it becomes too overstimulating

You try to pull him up to his knees, but he seems embarrassed by something. He looks up at you with his chin and nose glistening from your wetness, a guilty smile on his lips and his glasses fogged up and crooked. You then look down and notice it. A wet spot against his jeans

oh.

He got off on pleasuring you. He turned into a mess from just tasting you, feeling you on his lips and fingers. “That's the hottest thing i've ever seen” you say suddenly and lean down to kiss him passionately. He pulls away “really? You think so?” he looks at you in shock. “Yes! Now let me kiss you” you bring him up and kiss him passionately. He takes the hint, grabs at your hips and grunts. You can feel him already hardening again so you pull at his belt and pull down his pants and underwear. You softly grab him and start moving your hand up and down as he whimpers against your lips. You bring up your hand and spit onto it in order to create less friction when touching him.

“Please Ford- fuck me” you moan into his ear and he leans his head back in pleasure. “But i don't have-” you cut him off “there's some condoms in the front pocket of my bag, please” you emphasise your point by giving his cock another stroke. This seems to fuel him on to run to your bag and get the condom. He opens the packet and rolls it onto his member. He rubs his cock against your folds to collect your juices and as his head rubs against your oversensitive clit you moan. “Please put it inside” you hold onto his shoulders as he follows your request and pushes his tip in slowly.

He slowly pushes himself inside you until he's bottomed out inside you and you both groan. You move your hips experimentally and he whimpers at the feeling of you around him. He slowly starts to pull out and then thrusts back in with a moan of your name. You dig your fingers into the soft skin of his shoulders as he continues thrusting inside of you slowly. 

He continues gently until you decide to whisper in his ear something that changes his attitude completely “harder- please~”. He understands the message and suddenly picks you up and flips you around -while still inside of you- and bends you over the table. You moan at the sudden change of positions but you have no time to get used to it as he starts thrusting into you at a killer pace. He moves his hips sharply into you, with an almost mechanical pace as he pushes your chest onto the table with his broad torso. You can't help the sounds you let out each time he hits that deep spot inside of you. He grunts into your ear at each thrust and it makes your eyes water from all the pleasure.

You're suddenly pushed over the edge for the second time when he wraps his hand around your body and starts playing with you clit. You scream his name as you cum around his cock. His pace stutters a bit and he curses in your ear as he cums too for the second time.

He slowly eases you both down with some gentler thrusts and then exits out of you with a sensual pop. 

You lay down for a little while with your ass out before you gather some strength to get up. As soon as you do, your legs start to shake and Ford catches you in his arms and chuckles a bit with pride. “So…. did you like that?”  

You dead-pan him and say “no. i didn't like that. Of course I liked that you doofus!” he laughs a bit and kisses you again. “I just wanted to make sure!” he says against your lips. You giggle and pull him even closer “well, i enjoyed that a lot” you give him a small peck on the nose and then pull away to put your clothes back on. He disposes of the condom and goes to put on his pants but pauses. “I can't go out with a wet spot on my pants…. What should I do?” he looks terrified at the thought of walking around campus like that.

“Don't worry, i always carry an extra sweatshirt around in case the ac is too much in class” you laugh as he looks at you like you just saved his life “you are an angel!” he comes up to you and kisses you again before going back to putting on his pants. You hand him the sweatshirt and he ties it around his waist in order to hide the evidence of what happened.

He then comes up to you and hugs you. “You know i meant what i said, right? About liking you” you blush and then respond “i meant what i said too”

“Then can this not be a one time thing? I want to -if you’d want of course, there's no pressure if you don't want to do anything more than what happened today but-” you cut him off to spare him from rambling even more “i’d like to go on a date with you, Ford. i want to go out with you and be with you” he sighs with relief. “Great! Are you free tomorrow?” you check your calendar “yeah i should be- do you want to meet up?” 

“I would love that” he kisses your forehead before picking up your bag and the keys to the room.

You go out but as Ford locks the door, he realises something.

“Why do you have condoms in your bag?”

You immediately flush a deep red as you remember the fact that after first meeting him, your horney brain convinced you to put some condoms in your bag. ‘Just in case something happens’ you thought to yourself

“No reason” you yelp out and pull at his bicep so he continues walking and change the subject.

He chuckles at your antics but goes along with you.

He’ll just have to ask another time.

[dailystobin]

#something something the scene in the bathroom in season two when nancy calls steve out on his "let's try to be normal because i don't want to face the things that happened to us because then it'll make it real and then i won't be normal" bullshit and made him face all of the little cracks in the perfect image he kept trying to show people when he was clearly struggling with the weight of everything and how if it weren't for that one night in the bathroom where nancy was so fucking drunk and so fucking tired of pretending like any of that made them happy when it didn't, he would have never been at the wheeler's that one day dustin needed someone to help him, dustin would have never went looking for him at scoops to ask for help with the russians, robin would never have been roped into it all and they wouldn't have become Steve and Robin, they would've simply just been co-workers, or not even that at all - just like they talked about. and steve - steve looked so fucking heartbroken when robin told him that they sat near each other for a year and he never even noticed because in his core steve had always been just. lonely. tommy h was never his friend, carol was never his friend, he didn't like who he was when he was with those people, not like he likes being robin's schmuck. not like he likes babysitting a bunch of mean teenagers. not like he likes being dustin henderson's big brother. not like he likes running straight into danger to protect the people he cares about. because then he doesn't feel lonely. and he probably thinks about all of the time that he's wasted with people he didn't even like trying to hold up an image that doesn't even matter in the end when he could've just. been hanging out with the "band nerds" he made fun of around his pool to try and "impress" nancy the whole time. because robin is a band nerd and robin has made him laugh harder than he's laughed in a long time, and robin was a baby who took six months longer to learn how to walk, the same way that he was a baby who crawled backwards because it made sense to him. robin who has a mother who criticizes her for things she cannot change, the same way he has a dad that doesn't really care about him. the same robin who never had a friend who knew her the way she always wanted to be known and accepted and loved her anyway, the same way that he has never had a friendship (that was his own age*) that just. saw him at his worst. hated him, even. but got to know him, aka the steve post breakup and the steve who wears a sailor outfit and the steve whose best friend is a 13 year old and is surrounded by kids who love him so much and. stays. and trusts him. because she likes who he is when he's not being, you know, "Bullshit Steve". and so when steve says "i should've been hanging out with this girl the whole time", in my head, it really just translates as "i wish i had known you sooner because then maybe i wouldn't have been so lonely and things could have been - not better because this is hawkins - but. not as bad." and you know he really means it because he's the dingus waking up at dawn just to drive robin to school and wait around until he has to work every single morning because thank GOD nancy wheeler got drunk and called him bullshit in the bathroom of a halloween party..... or whatever you know like i'm totally cool about steve harrington and robin buckley's Platonic with a Capital P soulmatism anyway lol

[mahboimahboi]

TEACHER'S PET x M!Reader (featuring Actor Mackenyu)

Smut (⚠️)

"Yo, our P.E Teacher is so fucking capital H-O-T. Do you think he's married?" You nudged your seatmate, eyes lingering towards the instructor who was standing at the front while he wrote some very important notes on the whiteboard. 'Damn, even the marker look so small in his hand', you thought to yourself, too lost in your thought. It was never your intention to especially fall in love with a teacher, let alone someone who's really strict, but it was the way how he looks so above average than the rest of the teachers in the school. He's so out of this world and looked as though he came straight out of a comic book. Oh, and let's not forget the biceps and the strong arms. He's just so ethereal.

"That's what I've heard," You got snapped out of your trance and looked at your classmate confused. She sighs and stops from listening to the lesson for a minute and turns to you, knowing you were once again daydreaming about the instructor who's literally a whole lotta years older than you. "I mean, I've heard that he's a married man and has a child. So, if i were you, I'd stop sending heart eyes to him, unless you want to get fucking obliterated by his wife." She deadpanned.

"Oh, well—"

"Mr. L/N. Yes, I'd really be glad if you'd come visit me in my office after our class." Your instrutor said, fixing the glasses he had on, before he looks towards you and eyes you. "Don't think I haven't caught you not paying any attention to my class. All you did is disturb your classmate. I can't tolerate that." He let out with a deep, authoritative voice. It sent shivers down your spine and you swore you felt yourself go pale at the sight of his tiger eyes eyeing you down with anger.

"Y-Yes, sir Maeda." You stammered, not even daring to look at his eyes. With all the times he taught the class, this is the only time he called your attention out for not listening to the class. You are finally at the last strike. Only for this specific teacher, you wanted to be seen as a good student. One who studies and does well in class to impress your instructor, but all you ever did so far was to irritate the male. So much for a good impression. Embarrassed, you buried your head in your arms, wanting to just vanish.

Later, after your class session with Mr. Maeda ended, the instructor gestures with his eyes for you to follow him to his office. You did as you are told, hanging your head low, ashamed of yourself. Usually, Mr. Maeda would talk to you about important stuff, but now it is rather silent and... awkward. The rest of the walk was quiet, too much that it was deafening.

Once you both arrive at his office, he lets you in first, looking up at him only to see him raise a brow at you. You squeaked in fear and entered the room quickly, scared with what he had in plan for you. "Mr. L/N. Your attitude in class is getting out of hand." Mr. Maeda starts, his voice low as he puts his books on his table before sitting down his swivel chair. "It's quite disrespectful staring at your teacher with so much going on inside your head." Hearing those words, you hesitantly look up to see the adult male with a smirk on his handsome face. He tilts his head to the side, then stands up from his seat and slowly starts striding his way towards you. "Tell me, what goes on in your head during my class... Y/N?" His voice came out like a slither, a spell from a book that entranced you.

You swallowed the huge lump that formed in your throat, looking away from the male. The male scoffs, leaning on the edge of his table, now stood in front of you, crossing his arms. "Look at me when I'm talking to you, Y/N. Haven't I taught you proper respect enough?" You stayed silent, but you could already feel yourself start to get hard. You subtly moved your hands to cover your erection that made an obvious tent on your pants. "Well, look who got excited." He mocked. "Y/N. While I'm asking nicely, answer me."

"I-It's... too absurd." You answered him, but the other male was unfazed.

"Well, I don't care how absurd it is." But then, a bright idea flickers in his head and a soft chuckle moves past his lips. "Alright, if you're afraid to tell me," He trailed off, moving towards you. He sat down beside you, enticingly spreading his legs open and whispering to your ear. "Why don't you show me?" His smirk grows wider, when he notices the red color on your face.

You covered your ears and moved away as far as you can from him. "S-Sir. I mustn't. You have a child and a wife. I can't simply—"

"Who told you that?" He asks you, his voice stern and sounded frustrated. You didn't say a word. "Y/N, I'm starting to get fucking bored." You started to think about it, whether or not you'd take the opportunity, but the fact that he never confirmed whether or not what you heard is true, scares you and it isn't just right.

In the end, it only took one forceful and lust-filled kiss that was initiated by Mackenyu who had one hand behind your neck. At first, shock was the only thing you felt, before the male started to feel you up and down your waist. This wasn't right. It didn't feel right at all, but why did it feel so good at the same time? You, soon melt into the kiss and start kissing him back lavishly, following the same rhythm.

Much to the male's surprise, he didn't know you were that easy of a prey and he was a predator, ready to eat the result of his hunt. Too high in the clouds and your head filled with lust, you made your way to ride on his thighs, being careful not to break the kiss. Mackenyu notices how you still looked a little hesitant. Wanting to help, he pulls away and puts his hands on both sides of your hips. "Listen, Y/N. Don't believe everything you've heard about me. You're getting too stiff for me to handle." You blushed at his words, then nodded your head in reply. "That's a good boy." He commented, before pushing his lips back to yours.

Your bottom felt a slight poke, catching your attention. You pulled away from the other male, watching you start to stroke him. "Whatever you want, doll." He smirks.

You got down to your knees, feeling the warmth he gave off. Hurriedly, you unzip the zipper to his pants only to realize that he wore no under garments underneath, turning you on even more. Due to his tight pants and the girth of his cock, the button pops off, almost hitting you on the forehead. "Oh my, sir. I've always imagined just how big you are." You stated, smirking proudly to yourself now that you've finally made a dream come true.

The male groans and puts his hand on top of your head as you desperately wrap your lips around his cock. Mackenyu lets out a breathy moan, pushing his head back as he lets you do your own thing. It felt good to know a person is very skilled with their mouth. "Fuck, doll. You're making me feel so good." He hums in pure bliss, standing up as he takes a hold of your head and starts fucking your mouth out with his dick, surprising you. Fortunately, you have trained yourself enough to get through a rough mouth-fucking, but the taller male's size is a lot larger than what you've thought. You took it good, though and it was enough for Mackenyu who looked like he was having the time of his life. "Holy shit. Fuck." He grunts, biting on his lip.

This went on for a few minutes, before his thrusts started to get sloppy, indicating that he was near his climax. He doesn't say a word or heads up, only shocking you when he buries his thick cock in your throat and finishes. "FUCK!" He moans out with his mouth left hanging open, convulsing in place.

He gives your mouth a few more thrusts to ride out his high, before pulling out and taking out spare pants from his drawer. "Haven't felt that good for so long, no rather, at all." He told you, yet you are still in a daze with what just happened, smiling to yourself. "I don't think you'd want this to be the first and last, right, Y/N?" He asks you in a sultry voice.

"No, sir." You let out making the teacher smirk in success. You pass out in his office room and the male lifts you into his arms and puts you down on a bench near his desk where you can rest comfortably.

"Good pet." He laughs softly, before he goes out of his office and moves to his next class.

[writingsfromhome]

Dos and Don’ts of H Styles

A/N: this story was literally born out of the wifi incident happening to me. It was a weird experience lol but of course it inspired me to write a story around it. Basically you used to work for Harry as a PA and your life was hell. You bump into him in the present but before it unfolds we need to know what happened in the past.

Part 1 / 2 / 3 / 4

——————————————

I watch as Winnie types into her phone the number of the guy who’d just hit on her.

“And that’s with a y?” She looks up at him with doe eyes.

“Yea,” he falls for it. He was cute, and she worked a lot I didn’t blame her for taking who she could get. His accent also helped. “What’re you doin’ now?”

“Well,” her eyes slide to me. “Hanging with my girlfriend here.”

He nods at me and I smile, holding up the almost empty glass. “We were just about done for the night though.”

“We were?” Winnie checks in with me.

“Mhm,” I give her an encouraging nod.

Both Winnie and I were employed by musician-turned-actor Oretta Smith. Winnie was her nanny—or childcare companion as she called it, and I worked as Oretta’s executive assistant. It was full-time and demanding as hell but ever since Oretta had her first child a couple months back I’d gotten a lot more breathing room as she minimized her public life and stayed close to home.

This long weekend Oretta was staying with her in-laws and asked us to take it off. I’d already requested the weekend off knowing we were in London but being off at the same time as Winnie was impossible so we’d gone out to celebrate and let loose—9pm and only 2 drinks in, both of us had already started talking about the comfort of our beds. Until flirty dude came up to Winnie.

“What do you say?” Winnie’s new date asks her.

“Aw shucks alright,” Winnie flashes her beautiful smile and hops off the stool. I don’t even see her drop the bills onto the table as she hugs me goodbye and leaves until it’s too late. She’d covered for both of us. Well I’d get her back next time.

I finish the rest of my drink, eyes flicking to the reruns of tonight’s soccer game. This wasn’t the fanciest bar—it was quite homely compared to the ones Winnie and I often found ourselves at. But it was one I used to go to when I worked in London just over a year ago. Being back in the city, despite all the awful memories, pulled me towards the nostalgic comfort of it.

I remember the many dates with my now-ex, the random nights I’d actually get off, and drown myself in drink to forget about my awful employer. Or the birthday and milestone celebrations—especially the ones I started to miss near the end.

I consider walking the few streets over to my old flat. Coincidentally the job I’d gotten wasn’t far from home. The upside was that it made dealing with “emergency” texts from my employer a lot quicker but the downside was it grouped all the traumas I experienced in this beautiful city to a few blocks. I didn’t miss it.

I cut my memory lane rabbit-hole short and decide it was time to order an Uber and get out of here; I had an early train to catch tomorrow.

The bars on my phone flicker up and down as I open the app and continue to refresh it over and over. But my signal remains unstable.

“Stupid phone,” I mutter. I had to update my provider while I was here asap.

“‘Scuse me?” I wave down someone serving drinks. “Have you got wifi here?”

“Yep we do!” She smiles. “Name’s The Violinist and the password’s capital p….”

Her voice grows far away as my blood runs cold and I stare at the list of available wifi networks. I feel myself nod a thank you when she stops talking and she leaves taking the password with her while I’m stuck staring.

My networks:

🔗H’s iPhone

I want to duck down and run away, not spend another second around anything to do with that era of my life. But I also want to hunt him down and show him how much better I was doing after him, despite.

The second instinct wins. Kind of.

I don’t hide away. I scan the dimly lit room and try to spot the familiar head of hair but it’s on the third try that I spot him. And it’s probably because his hair is barely an inch long.

He must’ve cut it recently, I’m surprised. Him without his hair was like Harry Potter without his scar.

The feelings are instantaneous though. The loathing and the need to cry. My heart continues to race as I burn a hole into the side of his head.

He was the devil incarnate and I had thought about him for a second too long just now. And now here he was. What the fuck was a guy like him doing here?

I remember the awful times; the casually cruelty and the late nights he would make me work. His constant criticism. The way my life fell apart because of him. The way I could wring his neck with very little incentive at any given moment.

He had turned my whole life upside down. He ruined me.

Harry Styles wasn’t the sweetheart everyone painted him out to be.

And yet, a flash of a feeling, a fleeting memory I try to keep locked away pushes to the front of my mind.

“Fuck no,” I tell myself. There was no room for fondness when it came to the devil.

About 2 years ago:

I straighten out the blazer, wondering if I should be chic and roll the sleeves up a bit or just keep them down. My reflection shows a nervous mousy girl that’s trying too hard. I throw my hair into a ponytail instead and feel a more like myself. Just as the elevator doors ding open.

I’m in the penthouse suite I would be working out of for the next however long; it was my first day on the job and I was still sorting out my nervous to excited ratio.

After looking for months, I’d landed a PA gig for up-and-coming rockstar Harry Styles. It was a dream come true and everyone was ecstatic for me, most of all my boyfriend who’d helped me land the role.

My boyfriend, Grayson, was a personal trainer to a lot of big names and he’d been keeping his ear to the ground for me. We met a few years ago at the gym of course, I’d still been a student and he worked part-time at the student gym. Back then he was still working to get a better client list.

We’d clicked pretty quickly and Grayson, who was anything but shy, asked me out. Soon after he was telling me he had feelings for me and I’d felt them echo back the same. He was my biggest supporter and when I told him I wanted to take this career path seriously he’d been the first to show me what steps to take to get there.

My true dream was to become a publicist and work with celebrities, but fresh out of post-grad everyone told me I’d need to dive head first and get my hands dirty. And I’d have to do that by finding a PA role for a publicist or an industry person.

“Y/n?” My name interrupts my thoughts. It comes from a disembodied head peeking out from a doorway. “You are y/n right?”

“Yes!” I hurry over. “Nice to meet you.”

“Yes. I’m Mr. Styles’ exec assistant, I’m only here for the next,” he looks down at his watch. “Half hour perhaps? So let’s get you sorted before I head out.”

“Oh okay. Sure,” my ears ring, I was going to be alone on my first day. I didn’t even know he had an executive assistant. What was the difference between him and me? What if I screw up and this guy was part of the fallout plan? Shit. “Is Mr. Styles in?”

“Not at the moment, he’ll be in before noon. He has a few appointments this morning. Typically you’d be going with him but he left before you arrived so…next time. Make sure you get any paperwork he received from the appointments and file them in here-“ he points to a room with a filing cabinet. Like an actual cabinet. This was a tight ship. “You sound American. Are you American?”

“Yep,” I debate whether to tell him I stayed after doing my degree here but decide to keep the yapping to a minimum.

I continue following the EA—who I should get the name of, as he points out rooms and overlaps it with info about Mr. Styles’ schedule and routines. A lot of info. My brain felt like it was barely holding on.

I think about the man I was now working for, the one who came into the interview for a brief 10 minutes. Surely that laid-back guy wasn’t the anal mystery man I was getting all these instructions for.

The interview itself had gone pretty smoothly apart from the fact that I nervous-laughed a few times too many. I had gone silent when The Harry Styles had walked into the office. He’d sat beside me at the round table, slouching slightly and flashing me a reassuring smile—I had felt my shoulders dip down immediately.

“So it’s y/n right? I’m pronouncing that correctly?” He’d said in his perfectly charming accent.

“Yes, it’s so nice to meet you officially.” I had to tamp down every urge to gush over him. I was a professional. I was zen.

“So y/n,” he says my name so casually and yet I feel myself lean closer to hear him say it again. “I’ve seen a couple of you come in here for the PA role. What makes you different then?”

Think think, just be calm and think!

“Well I’m a very passionate person so I put my all into everything I do. That would include this job, and in turn you’d benefit by getting peace of mind knowing I’m tackling whatever behind the scenes items that need to get done to get you where you need to go.”

“Well said,” he says with a smile that says he knew he was very good looking. “Now trust is a big factor in this relationship.”

As he talks I forget his manager is even in this room. I’m swept up in the hazy green of his eyes.

“We’ve done the background checks and all that—right?” He looks to his manager who was interviewing me and gets a nod. “But how can you reassure me. My staff gets approached by the media daily for any info on me. What’s to say you don’t sell out.”

“I would never,” I didn’t even think of that being an option. “Confidentiality and trust is the biggest pillar of this role and I take it very seriously. You’re like, the biggest celeb of the last year but I know you’re also a person and I wouldn’t betray that. On a person level.”

“So even if you had a really bad day, say I had gotten you to do some impossible tasks. And you’re heading out head full of steam and you get approached by a reporter. £5k for an exclusive.”

I shake my head. “As tempting as it would be, professional ethics reign over any of that.”

“I believe you y/n,” his eyes flicker down to my file. “Good references. We’ll be in touch.”

Now my eyes roam around the small room I’m meant to work out of. It’s the size of 1.5 supply closets with half the walls filled with shelves and cabinets. There’s a small desk but I wasn’t sure how often I’d be sitting at it. All the PAs I’d ever connected with always complained about the amount of time you spend on your feet. That’s why I’d opted to buy myself runners when I got the job.

“Any questions—mind you I have 1 minute for them before I’m off? There’s a suit I have to sort out.” The EA turns to me when we circle back to my office/supply closet.

“Oh,” a million race through my mind. Nothing that would fit in a minute. “I um, I guess I didn’t catch your name?”

He seems surprised at that, and then he laughs. “Oh you’re a doll. This place is gonna eat you alive. I’m Riley and tip for you—don’t be so eager to please. Do your job. Do it well. But you’re not here to be liked or make friends alright?”

He laughs again when he looks at my face. He hands me an iphone and tells me it’s programmed with everything and everyone I needed, then waves goodbye leaving me in a confused spot.

I wasn’t naïve, I knew what working in this industry was like but I was could swear I’d landed a good gig with Harry Styles. And meeting the man himself in the interview had confirmed it.

Maybe Riley was just jaded by too many long hours.

My phone vibrates in my pocket. A text from Grayson: good luck on your first day babe. let me know how it goes.

I only have time to heart it when I hear the elevator open in the foyer. I rush out just for Harry to brush past me and his manager following, chattering away about something.

I follow from behind and watch as he heads to the kitchen. Riley had shown me what he laid out on the island and how I should do it going forward. And like two magnets Harry reaches for the exact bottle Riley mentioned. He downs the smoothie and then collapses onto the barstool.

“But don’t forget what she was saying about the single needing to be global. Sure your fanbase would love it but would the people who hate you have to admit it’s good.”

“I make it for my fans not for the wankers that hate me,” Harry says and his voice is rich like caramel.

“You know what we mean.” His manager suddenly turns directly to me. “Can you contact the studio and let them know to push Harry’s 1pm to 3?”

“Oh,” I didn’t even know they knew I was here. They gave no acknowledgement until now. “Of course. Um, could I just get the paperwork from this morning too? The appoint-“

“Yep,” his manager unhauls the items in his hands. The whole time Harry stares out the window. I’m handed a stack of papers and I carry them to the office.

My hands are shaking when I put them down and I feel a lump in my throat. What was wrong with me? Why was I reacting this way?

I find the studio contact in the phone Riley gave me and let them know. They’re suspicious at first but accept the reschedule. I leave the paperwork for later, figuring I might be needed now.

But the rest of the morning I’m unacknowledged save by a few requests from Harry’s manager. I spend some time looking through the calender in the phone that’s pre-programmed with Harry’s entire life. It’s packed except for this Sunday. I wonder if it was actually free or just hidden from me since it was my one day off.

“You’ve got a passport haven’t you…?” It’s the first time Harry’s spoken to me. He’s changed into a hoodie and shorts, his manager is nowhere to be seen, and I’ve just bitten into a granola bar—the first thing I’d had since my morning coffee.

“Y/n.” I try to swallow the bite whole but at the last minute push it to the side to try to answer. “Erm yeah. I haven’t got it on me though.”

“Right. Y/n. Start carrying it. I’ll need you with me on Thursday I have a morning meeting in Léon and since Riley’s going to be sorting out something for my New York trip in a couple weeks he can’t make it.”

“Yes. I will. Do you need me to prepare anything else for the trip? I’m not sure if you’ve packed or-“

“It’s just a meeting.” He cuts me off. He pulls out his phone, dismissing me.

I swallow the knot in my throat once more.

I go with Harry to the studio since his manager is meeting us there. Alone in the car with him, the silence feels stuffy.

“I never got the opportunity to say thank you by the way,” I try to open up a conversation. All he was doing was looking out the window surely I wasn’t interrupting anything.

“What?” He stares right through me.

“Um, I’m just saying thank you. For the job.”

He nods.

I stay silent for the rest of the ride.

The studio is quiet, which makes sense when I think about it but upon entering an actual room I change my mind. The noise assaults my ears and I nearly jump at the volume but my hand gripping the doorknob keeps me in place.

People swarm around Harry.

“I need my tablet and my notebook,” Harry says amidst the small chaos.

What the fucks was he talking about. “Sorry?”

“My tablet and notebook,” His face darkens and so does my mood. Nobody told me! But maybe I should’ve asked oh my god.

“I don’t have it,” I say lamely.

“Any time I’m in the studio I need those two things. You need to get me my tablet and my notebook.” He speaks like a robot.

“I-I’ll head back,” I get my bag again. “Tablet and notebook, is there anything else?”

He looks angrier than I thought. He sticks his hands in his pocket, shuffles something in his hand before handing it over. “You may as well get lunch. Keep that card on you for business costs.”

I open my mouth to ask what he might want but he turns away as soon as I take the card and I’ve already fucked up royally so I decide to wing it.

In the car I consider googling what Harry Styles ate for lunch and instead will the ever living shit out of myself not to cry.

I scroll through the phone, debating if calling Riley for help would be a mistake. Going through every app for help I realize the countless notes in the app.

Morning Routines, says one. It lists things I should do when the mornings were spent at home, in studio, abroad, in a hotel, or if I walk into a “morning-after” morning. Jeez.

Another has checklists for what to do when travelling, how-to for routine appointments I should be booking, routine people I should be calling.

Why didn’t I look at this before. Right there is one called Studio Days and in bold it says what to bring.

I was an idiot. A big fat idiot.

I try my luck and search lunch. Sure enough a note with possible lunch places in cities across the world pops up.

It was a How-to guide for Mr. Styles.

Whoever put this shit together was an angel. I owed them my life.

I decide to be proactive, sorting lunch out to be delivered to the studio while the car drops me off. I run to the room Riley had said was the home studio. Sure enough I spot the tablet and a few notebooks, I grab all 3. I also grab the charger and ignore the bag of weed chilling on the arm of the chair.

What to do when he’s too drunk / What to do for Interview Days / What to do when he won’t answer the door or the phone / Day-off checklist / Social media checklist.

The dos and don’ts go on and on as I scroll through on the ride back. This was going to be my homework and by the end of the week I was gonna be a genius.

I swipe away and check if I had missed any folders containing precious info. Just the trash.

Out of curiosity I open it and there’s only 1 sitting inside: the donts of working for Harry Styles

I open it:

-don’t let one nice day fool you into forgetting he’s an arse and your employer

-don’t expect any gratitude from a narcissist

-don’t fall for his charm

-don’t shit where you sleep. no matter how tempting

-when he pisses you off which he will, don’t mouth off. what happens next is worse than being fired. which he won’t do because he’s the devil and he will want to keep you around after treating you like shite

-don’t think he’s chill. he’s anything but. follow the checklists and the rules.

-don’t have a life. actually this is a CAN’T. YOU CAN’T HAVE A LIFE WORKING FOR THE DEVIL. LEAVE AS QUICKLY AS YOU CAN UNLESS YOU HATE YOURSELF

I close the phone immediately, my heart thumping in my chest like a steady bass in the background of a song. What the hell did I get myself into.

***

It’s 8pm by the time I head back with Harry. The car is once again silent.

I had spent the day reviewing emails and the checklists, fielding calls and texts. His personal chef had texted to tell me dinner was prepared and in the oven to be re-heated so I figure that’s the last thing I’d do before I head home.

I’d eaten lunch standing while watching Harry sing background vocals to the album he was working on. It was hard to deny how intoxicating it was to see such a talented man work his magic. And it really was magical seeing how a song got put together.

That is until he’d sent me to get tea for the room and I’d nearly spilled half of it on myself getting enough back to the room. I was getting an electric kettle next.

I made a new note then: Reminders to do so you don’t get fired

The notes were my saving grace.

“My head is killing me,” Harry groans.

What to carry at all times: #4 paracetamol and #2 water

Checkmarked after going to the pharmacy while he was in the studio. I’d created an emergency makeup bag with essentials I could throw in my tote. I considered it a win today.

I hand the painkillers to him and he seems surprised. He replaces them with his phone.

“I don’t want to look at a screen for the rest of the night.”

“Okay.” I leave his phone beside me and try not to think of everything on it.

It vibrates a few minutes later and I leave it, not wanting to invade his privacy but he glances at me.

“Well?”

“Oh!” I lift it but it’s locked.

“1021.”

I type it in. “Um, Jeff wants to know if you’re still at the studio-“

“Reply to him.”

I do as I’m told.

“Um Mitch wants to know if you’re-“

“If it’s scheduling questions you can probably answer them without bothering me about it.”

I look up and he’s tipped his head back, eyes closed. Right. Of course I could.

I go through his schedule and find his studio time on Friday and relay it to Mitch. I respond to another text from someone asking if he was going to a gala in a couple months—his schedule said he was in LA so no. I wondered if I would also be in LA in a couple months. I wonder what Grayson would think.

Grayson, I’d had a short call with him a few hours ago and tried not to cry hearing his voice. It felt like home when the whole day felt so foreign.

I stare at the final text. The contact photo is the side profile of a gorgeous woman.

“Kimberly wants to know if you want um,” I feel my cheeks burn. “If you’re inviting her in tonight because she has a party she really wants you to go to.”

“I can’t be arsed for a party I feel like shite.” Harry says, eyes still closed. “Tell her to be at mine after 10.”

“Ok.” I type the words with a racing heart. I remember the morning-after checklist for this exact scenario. It wasn’t going to be weird soon I guess.

I heat up dinner for Harry while he showers and leave letting him know what time I’d be in tomorrow. He doesn’t even say goodbye.

I get home around the time I reckon Kimberly gets to Harry’s. The first thing I do when I see Grayson is shed a waterfall and he holds my exhausted body tight against him.

“Are you sure you want to keep doing this?” He whispers to me in bed after a shower and sandwich—I couldn’t stomach anything more.

“I need this job Gray. It’s gotta get better.”

“I reckon but it’s a steep learning curve,” he says as he traces the curve of my nose.

“I know,” I snuggle closer to him and yawn. I don’t know what he says next as I tip into sleep.

***

If the notes app manual with the dos and donts of being Harry Styles’ PA was a physical thing, imagine me swallowing it.

Every spare second I had—which I didn’t get a lot of, I was reading that thing. My fingers searched tirelessly before every scheduled and unscheduled event. And yet, I’d fucked up so many times.

It was Saturday and I was looking forward to my day off.

He had been hot and cold all week but ever since getting back from Léon he’d been nicer and I’d actually been getting home before 8.

Maybe things were going well, despite the fact that the learning curve was like climbing mount everest.

“What’s my morning look like?” Harry asks. I was sitting at his kitchen table trying to book a dinner for him next week with a friend that was in town. A friend who also happened to be big back where I was from—I hoped to catch a glimpse of her myself.

I glance up and look back down just as quickly. After a week of seeing Harry in all sorts of undress I should be used to it, but my face still flushes. Today he stands at the table in running shorts.

“Pulling it up,” I say and scan his schedule even though I had it memorized. “You’ve got a meeting at the bank in about 40 minutes and lunch with Michael.”

“Can’t my accountant take the bank meeting?”

“She’ll be there. She’s meeting you downstairs to discuss the meeting on the ride over. You need to sign off on some stuff.”

“Stuff,” Harry repeats.

I look at him, careful to train my eyes on his face. I couldn’t tell if he was annoyed at my lack of elaboration or just teasing me.

“Documents.” I correct, still unable to tell.

He look amused. “Great. Documents. I thought I’d be signing body parts.”

Was he joking? He was joking…I think.

“Right. No, we’re saving that for the tattoo shop booked for 6.”

He raises his brows, a slow smile spreading across his face and like the sun coasting over the horizon he looks brighter and prettier.

“That’s mad, that people would get a random man’s signature tattooed on them isn’t it?”

It’s inevitable really, my eyes skim over his torso brimming with tattoos. He notices and laughs. It’s a wonderful laugh.

“I meant they don’t really know me.”

“They admire you and it’s a piece of you,” I shrug. “At least it’s not a portrait of your face.”

“I’ve seen that floating around the internet actually.”

“Really?!” Now that was mad. I pull it up on the laptop and cover my mouth.

“I know.” He hangs his head and we laugh. God, things were finally getting better. This was the kind of relationship I thought Harry would have with his PA.

I scroll through comments and it’s impossible to wipe the smile off my face. I’ve considered myself a fan for a lot of artists but tattooing their face…that was another level of commitment I couldn’t do.

I look back to Harry who has grown quiet. His eyes are on me.

“What happened to your blazers?”

I’d decided to wear a skirt today, it was my lucky skirt—the one I had been wearing when I got the call that the job was mine. It being the last work day of the week I thought it might make me feel good.

I’d paired it with a tank top and a comfy cardigan. I’d finally felt like myself compared to all the button ups and blazers I’d been parading in. But apparently Harry had noticed the wardrobe difference. Shocker because he barely acknowledged me this week.

“I thought I’d dress for a Saturday?” It comes out meeker than I’d hoped. Ugh. “I hope that’s alright. If you want me more professional-“

“That’s alright,” his eyes roam down my body and I feel hot all over. Oh god, I shouldn’t have worn this. “It looks good.”

“Thanks,” I cross my cardigan over my body and try to get back to work but he doesn’t let it end there.

“Did you make that yourself?”

He continues to surprise me, “I did actually, is it obvious?”

“Yeah there’s a big hole down the back,” he teases. I know he is because his eyes are smiling, light.

“Damnit,” I relax a little. He was only interested in the sweater. “I’d finished it late it looked okay in the dark.”

“I have a friend, she made one of those for me. With the patches. Very comfortable.” He’s weirdly intense while looking at me and I feel like squirming again.

“It is. Very stretchy.” My vocabulary seems to shrink.

He leans over to touch the fabric and I feel like a cactus has been stabbed into my neck, I feel hot and prickly. Jeez, I had to chill out. My employer was just interested in my sweater. Super interested. Maybe I should just give him the damn thing. It would definitely fit him.

“Wool,” he smiles. He’s basically perched above me and I think I’m going to have a heart attack. I went from complaining about the fact that he acted like I wasn’t in any room he was in to not even being able to hold a conversation when he did.

I’m caught looking up into his unfairly gorgeous eyes and he looks at me like I’m the only person in the room. Which I was in this instance, but still.

I’m saved by a loud voice coming out of the elevator.

“Harry you car is waiting downstairs.”

Like a book slammed shut, his expression retreats until all that’s left is the cover page with no summary. The friendly Harry from before is gone.

“Oi Harry! I had to come all the way upstairs because I’ve been sitting in that stupid car waiting! Do you not pick up your phone?”

“Lee,” Harry says as he walks across his living room. “If you can’t reach me you call my PA I’ve told you a million times.”

“And I’ve told you a million times not to keep me waiting. We have a lot to cover before we get to this meeting and I need every minute. God why are you shirtless go put on something appropriate!”

Harry miraculously does as he’s told—given I had already laid out an outfit for him. He’s ready in no time. His accountant, Lee? Simply smiles at me and goes back to typing on her phone while we wait.

“Why is that so wrinkled?” Lee judges Harry who walks out in a completely different outfit.

“I don’t have time to change again do I?” Harry bristles.

Lee looks over at me and I’m not sure if she’s accusing me of something or looking for support.

“Mr. Styles I did leave an outfit out for the m-“

“I don’t wear silk.” He cuts me off and walks out ahead. Lee shrugs my way and follows him. I trail behind, feeling worse than ever.

For a miserable hour and a half I sit in one of the most uncomfortable chairs of my life, organizing Harry’s life while I wait for his meeting to end. As hard as I try to concentrate, I keep agonizing over what I might have done wrong to flick his switch. I swear things were going better. And I know I’ve seen him in silk before. Why the hell else would it be in his closet? Why couldn’t I go a single day without screwing up?

I finally spot Harry walking out of the office and gather my things quickly to meet him. I trail behind as we walk down the hall into the lobby, Lee is nowhere to be seen.

A gasp catches my attention and suddenly a girl younger than me rushes up to Harry.

“Oh my…Harry Styles?”

Harry’s face morphs briefly into annoyance, his gaze flicking my way, before pasting on a smile for the girl.

What to do when a fan approaches H (in the wrong moment): be the bad guy, divert, get Harry to wherever he needs to go to and do it quick.

“Hi,” Harry smiles sweetly at her and the friendliness throws me off guard. But this was unexpected and I should get him away…I think.

“Oh my god could I get a picture? My mate is never going to believe this. She loves you so much, so do I-“

“We really have to be going.” I say and the girl looks at me, surprised to find me there. I look around and spot and older woman watching us. Must be her mum.

“Could I just get a picture?” She glances between us.

“I don’t think Mr-“

“It’s fine,” Harry hands me her phone. “Get a photo of us.”

Just another layer of humiliation to add to the rest of the day. The rest of the week. God was I just awful at reading cues?

I snap a couple and then we’re walking free.

He doesn’t say anything. The car ride to his lunch date is spent in awkward fucking silence and I hate myself more with every second I spend in it.

When the car stops at his destination he holds his hand up when I go to open the door for him.

“Listen -what's your name again?" He asks.

Shame and humiliation drip over me like blood on Carrie’s prom night. I repeat it for him. Just like I had daily since I was hired.

“Right. Y/n. You came highly recommended from a friend so I trust you know how to do this job. This job, is to keep my life organized and keep me on track. Make sure I'm not distracted or side tracked by anyone. Including you. It’s not to be my publicist or my fashion advisor or my personal security. Let's stick to the job description okay?"

His words land bitterly to my ears. Not personal. Just a job. Just a job. Just a fucking job. And yet it was starting to feel like my whole life.

“Yes of course.” I hear myself mumble. And like the big clown I had to be, I push open the door and get out so he can too. He walks to the restaurant without a goodbye and I crawl into the car, heading back to his place. Tears burn my eyes but I refuse to let them out. Refuse to admit just how badly this job hurt.

***

“I’m not doing this on purpose,” I hiss into the phone. “You know I’d be there right now if I could!”

“Babe I get it’s your job but you haven’t come to anything in over a month since you started your job!”

“That’s unfair,” I cup my hand over my mouth. “Gray c’mon I’m going to be there just late.”

“That’s what you said last weekend.”

Last weekend, one of our good friends invited a few friends for dinner in their new place and Greyson had had to go alone. Everyone had messaged me to say I was missed but Gray had been stony, pretended to be asleep when I got home and then given me the silent treatment until I wore him down the next day. It was exhausting begging for affection.

“It’s my job Grey I don’t know what else to tell you.”

“Me neither, you know my parents want us over for weekend roast some time but I’ve been avoiding giving them a date because I don’t want you to stand them up.”

“I-“ a shadow shifts in the corner of my eyes and I look up. Harry stands in the doorway. “I have to go we’ll talk later.”

“Whatever y/n,” Grey hangs up and my chest squeezes with all the hurt I was causing. But he saw the state I’d been in since I started this job a month ago and he knows this is just my life right now. Why was he suddenly acting like it was brand new information?

“Are you done your personal call?” Harry asks. He hovers in the doorway, I’d never actually seen him in this little office space. Then again, if he did step in there wouldn’t be much room for either of us to walk around each other.

“Sorry,” I hate myself for apologizing. Here and everywhere else in my life. But I have no other choice. “Can I do anything for you?”

“When are you heading out tonight?” He asks. His eyes glued to my face. I know my eyes are teary and I try to blink it away.

“Um, soon. In an hour or so,” blink blink blink. “Did you need anything from me before then?”

“Yes, I have a friend coming over tonight. Can you order us something for dinner. Something light. And get a bottle to chill for us—champagne. And can you push Monday’s cleaning service to tomorrow afternoon?”

“Consider it done.” I tell him, hoping he would just leave me alone in the dark here.

“Do you have evening plans?” He continues. Why did he never ignore me when I wanted him to!?

“Kind of yeah,” I try to keep it short. “A birthday.”

It was Grayson’s sister’s birthday. She had invited us to a local fave called The Violinist and of course I would only make it to the dessert course if I was lucky. These days, making it to dinner at all was a luxury. I lived off of sparkling water, leftovers, and coffee.

“Well best to finish up what you’re doing so you can head out.”

He leaves and I’m annoyed. Why couldn’t he be nice and just tell me to leave after doing what he asked. But here I sit folding fucking pamphlets for some idiotic pledge he had signed on for. Fuck me.

I’m miserable by the time I leave. I’d managed to finish everything in a half hour so I’d touched up my makeup and changed into a simple dress I had kept in the office closet on Riley’s suggestion.

“A simple black number that could be used for any last minute event.” He’d said. Unfortunately that now counted for personal events too.

“G’night Mr. Styles.” I call out as I walk to the foyer, just so he knows I was going out earlier than I said.

“G’night,” he answers surprisingly. He always ignored me but tonight he sits on the couch. He rises to see me off but I notice him pause and take in my outfit. “Fun night?”

“I hope so.” I unfold the blazer in my hand, suddenly wanting to disappear with his gaze on me.

His long legs walk to me and he takes the blazer I’m fidgeting with from my hands. He actually holds it open and if I wasn’t this exhausted my jaw would definitely be on the floor.

“Oh. Thank you,” I slip it on and turn to face him. As if helping me put it on wasn’t surprising enough, he proceeds to untuck my hair from the blazer.

“That’s alright,” he says in a low seductive tone. “You look nice. Are you dressed up for someone?”

The question is dangerous, toeing a line I’m not sure I want to erase. I try to ease things with a joke. “The birthday girl I guess.”

“A friend?”

“My fiancé’s younger sister.”

Was it just me, or does he bristle when I mentioned my fiancé?

“I didn’t know you were engaged,” he mumbles, glancing down at my hand. I wore a number of rings and I guess the small diamond Grayson had proposed with back when it was the most he could afford, blended in.

“Yeah, nearly a year now.”

“Wow,” he crosses his arms. “Have a date set?”

“Not exactly,” I smooth my hair behind my ears. “We’re thinking next year but we’ve just been so busy with out schedules-“

“What does he do?”

“He’s a personal trainer,” I say proudly.

“Oh,” Harry tilts his head back. “Oh. Now I understand. Now I get the connection. My mate Liam put in a good word for you when I needed a new PA, he said he knew you through his personal trainer. He never mentioned how.”

“I see,” I’d have to thank Liam next time I saw him. He’d been one of Grayson’s first big clients and had become a close friend to us. I’d have to thank him with dinner. If I got any nights off, that is.

“That’s who you were talking to on your personal call?” He asks, his hand tracing my shoulder seam down to my elbow. My heart races from the ghost of his touch.

“Erm yeah, sorry again. I had to take it since it was time sensitive.”

“Best to get going then.”

I take a step backwards and then rush to the elevator all at once. Once I’m on and the doors start to close I turn and catch a glimpse of his handsome face watching me go.

I let out a breath. That was weirdly heavy. And kind of intimate. But weird. That was weird.

I wonder briefly who he was having over tonight. If it was Kimberly, who I’d had the misfortune of meeting in her panties one morning. Or his other “friend” some brunette named Maya or Amaya something. I’d had the misfortune of meeting her when I dropped off a late package to Harry one evening. All were awkward encounters.

I shake away the thoughts and am grateful when Harry’s driver waves me down on the sidewalk. I guess Harry had told him to take me to where I needed to go. My heart is warmed ever so slightly, although I do accidentally nap on the 15 minute drive over.

I make it for the end of dinner and Gray looks relieved to see me even though his eyes hold a hint of something unspoken. I try to ignore it tonight.

“Oh you look beautiful!” I hug the birthday girl, and we sway from side to side. I used to see her a lot before she moved away for uni. “When did you stop being a baby, Josie Duran let me get a look at you.”

“Josefina tell her what you did for your 21st.” Gray says.

“Can you let it go!?” Josie scowls.

“What?” I whisper.

“Mom will kill you,” Gray warns.

“That’s why she doesn’t have to know,” Josie bites.

“Hey,” I put my hands up between the two. “No fighting with the birthday girl. Anyway. Josie, you look beautiful, I’m so sorry I’m late but it’s so good to be here.”

“Aw no don’t worry about it,” she goes in for another quick hug. “I’m just happy you got to come. Gray said the bloke you work for is a nightmare. Tell us do we know him?”

“Ah,” I wasn’t really supposed to talk about him according to my nda. “I dunno if you would. Anyway I’m going to try to steal some of Gray’s leftovers until dessert comes.”

I sit beside Gray where the seat had been left empty and smile up at him, hoping for forgiveness. He sighs and kisses my forehead, pushing his plate towards me.

“Go ahead, have you eaten?”

I had a banana and a yoghurt for lunch but I don’t tell him, just making a vague answer for yes and scarfing down what’s left.

“She got a tattoo,” he says in my ear later as the restaurant finishes singing happy birthday and a cake with sparklers is set down. He’d gotten tipsy and I can tell because he wants to talk about his upsets.

“She’s a grown woman Gray,” I know he was protective and a little traditional—that’s where half of their sibling fights originated, but I always told him he had to let loose a little. “She’s allowed to get it. If I remember you have some tattoos of your own.”

“It’s different y/n.”

“She’s getting older faster than we can keep up with huh?” I lean my head against Gray’s shoulder and let out a big sigh. It feels good, sitting with him here surrounded by friends. It had been a while.

Gray leans his head against mine and doesn’t answer. We watch her friends take pictures like proud parents, watching her cut and then distribute the cake. I should help, but I just could not lift a finger.

“Hey y/n, is that your phone going off?” Josie’s friend beside me points to my facedown phone.

“Is it?” I sit up, my heart doing a number in my chest.

I pick it up, 2 missed calls from Harry and 3 texts. Fuck.

“Leave it,” Gray must be looking over my shoulder. “You’ve gone home now just screw him.”

“I can’t,” I didn’t want Gray getting mad—I know he was kinda drunk and he could make a scene like this. I didn’t want to ruin Josie’s celebration. But I couldn’t ignore this. This is the first time Harry’s messaged me after I’ve gone home. “I’ll take it outside.”

On my way to the door I open the messages. A picture of a bucket filled with ice. A row of question marks. And then: call me

What? What was so urgent about a bucket of-

Oh.

Fuck.

I thought I did everything but I hadn’t. I’d filled the bucket with ice and meant to ask the Italian restaurant around the corner to deliver a bottle like they usually did for Harry but I hadn’t gotten to that part.

I feel like I’m going to vomit any dinner I just had.

I crouch down. Do I call him? Do I pretend I didn’t see this until too late? No. I had to face up. I fucked up.

Deep breaths. Deep breaths.

I call with shaking hands but it rings and rings and goes straight to voicemail. I try again.

I had to get back, get him the champagne. Fix my mistake.

“Y/N,” Grayson’s suddenly outside. “Aren’t you coming back in?”

“I can’t. I…” how do I explain this to my fiancé without it sounding minor as hell. “I forgot to mail some important documents and I need to get back-“

“It’s Saturday fucking night.”

“Yeah but-“

“And guess what?! Tomorrow’s Sunday! The mail’s going nowhere! Fuck that wanker and come back in.”

Gray holds out his arms and I want to go back in but I need to fix this mistake.

I grasp his hand and he smiles, misunderstanding why I held it, “Gray I have to go-“

He pulls his hand away, a sneer on his face. It hurts when he looks at me that way, like I betrayed him.

“I showed up! I celebrated, I got here Gray I just have to-“

“You were barely here! Do you know how upset she was when I said you couldn’t make it?”

“Well why did you say that!?” I demand. “I told you I was only going to be late!”

“I can’t trust that!” He shouts and I try to pull his arm so he quiets but he doesn’t seem to care there are people around. “Your time is all his, every single fucking second! And when you’re not there your brain is going a million bajillion times over about him and his life. Even when you’re with me! What the fuck! What’s up with that!?”

“Gray I’m sorry look I’ll make it up to you tomorrow. I swear. I’ll make it up to your sister I-“

“I don’t care y/n,” Gray slips his arm out of my grasp. “Do whatever you want. Nothing I say matters anymore anyway right?”

“Gray,” tears streak my face as I watch the man I love go back inside without another look my way.

Fuck Harry.

I try to call him again but voicemail. Again. Fuck!

What to do when you make a mistake: admit to it—Harry appreciates accountability. FIX IT! As much as you can. FIX YOUR MISTAKES OR FACE CONSEQUENCES.

An alert that my uber was here pings my phone—I take the ride to the restaurant and grab an already chilled bottle. I book it to Harry’s building and ride the elevator up, every floor causing a further dip in my stomach.

The doors open to a dimly lit space. There’s music playing, something jazzy, and it smells like…vanilla? Vanilla roses?

“Hol-hold on,” I hear Harry chuckle. A head pops up from the other side of the sofa.

“Y/n?” He looks as confused as I am.

Oh my god, I realize as a giggle comes from the floor. They were on the fucking floor of the living room? They were on the floor of the living room f…what the fuck did I walk into?

“Just back with this,” I squeak, holding up the bottle.

“Harry did you invite someone else?” The voice asks from below with another laugh. He sighs, disappearing again. I hear a very distinct wet noise before he pops back up again, I look at the doors of the elevator trying even harder not to give in to the panic attack that was looking more and more tempting.

“What are you doing here?” Harry approaches me with a softened voice. Wearing a robe. A silk robe. I knew he wore silk.

“You called—the bottle I’m sorry it totally slipped my mind I-“

“I told you to call me?”

“I did, you didn’t pick up! I thought I should swing by-“

“I thought you had a party?” His forehead scrunches.

“I…” the pieces come together. Did I take this too seriously because Harry didn’t even look angry? Great. I was an idiot and proving to Harry I had no life. “It ended. Early. I…I wanted to fix my mistake and bring the bottle.”

He takes it from my hand, still confused. “Y/N.”

I wait for him to continue but he doesn’t. And lord, in this climate with him in just a robe hearing my name on his lips is not okay. I was going to pass out.

“I’ll leave.” I go back to the elevator but he starts talking again.

“I asked you to call me so I could ask-“ he stops when I turn back around to listen. He closes the gap between us again with a sigh, and I don’t realize my face was still streaked with tears. It was probably more noticeable in the elevator light. He takes his finger and swipes across my cheek, his brows furrowing.

“Sorry,” I swipe my cheek to remove the remaining evidence. “I’ll leave you to it.”

He clears his throat and takes a step back. “Thank you for coming back.”

I nod.

“If you’re going to leave early next time, make sure you finish everything I’ve asked you to do. Don’t skip out like this again.”

“Yes yeah of course,” I stutter, relieved to fit back into our usual roles. For a second there, I thought Harry was going to be kind. And that would have been way worse.

“Good night Y/N. See you Monday.”

“Good night Mr. Styles.”

Gray’s not home by the time I get back. I wake the next morning to his side untouched.

So I do the only thing that felt good these days, I curl up into a ball and cry.

***

Taglist - leave me a message if you’d like to join it :)

[elsweetheart]

what’s the worst that could happen to a girl that’s already hurt?

🎀 when your best friend ellie stands you up, the man who raised you both swoops in to save the day.

🎀 kittie??? using capital letters?? well i never. i present the much awaited father figure joel fic! it’s also a bff!ellie fic! double homicide. warning: it’s pretty angsty in some places, mentions of your birth father being a shitty guy, mention of alcohol (unrelated to your dad), all around daddy issues, ellie’s kind of a dick in this, fem!reader, reader is a woman luver, this is NOT hate towards dina she is simply just there, lemme know if i missed anything! p.s i’m trying out adding little cover pics to my fic, tried to make this one have the same vibes as like a journal / diary entry with stickers n stuff ? ok bye

Ellie was an everywhere kind of girl. She was strong, capable, intelligent, and always knew what to do. To you, she was truly a superhero around Jackson, always making sure that everyone was safe and doing her best to take on the jobs she thought was too dangerous for everyone else. Her selflessness was what drew you to her in a romantic sense in the first place, not that she had any idea. In her eyes, the two of you were long time best friends who grew up together — experiencing just about everything together, and you were certain to her that’s all it was. You’d liked her since you’d met.

For the most part, it didn’t suck. getting to be close with Ellie made it worth it, smoking together, laughing, and sometimes even playfully flirting (the butterflies in your stomach can attest to this.) There were hard times of course, Ellie getting with other girls and telling you all about them, the fact she probably saw you as a little sister, and most recently — she’d gotten super busy. So busy, that you had to start going out of your way just to say hi to her each day, always running about Jackson to find her. To you, it was worth it. You missed her.

“Boo!” Two hands grabbed you from behind as you swept the hay in the barn making you yelp and turn around with a wide eyed expression. “Totally got you.” Ellie smirked, backing off. She wore her khaki green jacket that you loved over her hoodie, done up with her jeans and her backpack on.

“What’re you doing here?” You asked softly, chest swelling with affection. She stepped around you, going to pat one of the horses as greeting.

“Thought I’d stop by, about to head out on patrol.” She took a carrot from the feeding tray and fed it to the horse.

“You always seem to be on patrol.” You smiled, and you cursed yourself at how it came out. It sounded kind of bitter, and shit — maybe you were a little bitter— but you knew it wasn’t ultimately her fault that you felt neglected. Perceptive as ever, Ellie turned her head towards you quickly wearing guilt on her face.

“I’m sorry, dude. I miss hanging out.” She took a step towards you and you let yourself sulk, turning your back to her and continuing to sweep. “I do.” She took another step closer.

“Don’t call me dude. I’m a girl.” You were being a little pathetic now, punishing her when she didn’t fully deserve it.

“Since when?” She chuckled and you whipped your head to her in shock, a look of anger and disbelief accidentally showcased in your expression. “I mean since when did you care about me calling you dude?”

When you didn’t respond, Ellie sighed— stepping up directly behind you. “Alright, I didn’t wanna have to do this. But I’m gonna have to call in reinforcements from the tickle monster.” She spoke seriously, and before you got the chance to protest this her hands were jabbing into your waist, fingers wiggling up and down your ribs as you squealed, a smile making a breakthrough onto your face as if despite everything your body couldn’t help but enjoy her touch.

“Ellie stop!” You chortled, your hands falling loose on the broom. Before it fell, Ellie reached around and caught it before swinging it round and hiding it behind her back. You spun around to her, lurching forward to try and grab it but instead just stepping right up close into her space.

It seemed like everything froze, just like that. Your faces were close and her eyes were boring into yours — the green of them almost painfully bright today, her cheeks looking like they’d caught a bit of sun, hair jostled in her messy half bun from all the commotion. You blinked up at her, collecting yourself as she smiled back smugly.

“Give my broom back.” You breathed out, confidence slightly lost at the close proximity.

“One condition.” She whispered and you leant on your hip with an attitude, tilting your head at her as if to say ‘what?’. She sucked in a breath, and you swear her eyes flickered to your lips for just a second but you might have imagined it. “Stop being mad at me. Let’s hang out.” She proposed and your heart fluttered. Finally.

“Alright.” You muttered with a shy smile and she tilt her head, grin widening.

“Yeah?” She seemed equally excited, and you felt elated. You had gotten in your own head a little with Ellie being so busy, thinking that maybe she’d been busy for a reason — trying to politely get you off her back. This was the confirmation you’d needed that you were overthinking, as usual.

“Remember how you said you were gonna teach me about skin… care…stuff? Let’s do it. It’s about time I start acting like a girl.” She chuckled, stepping back and breaking the tension of your closeness a little. You stepped back too, a little flushed from the moment and nodded happily. Footsteps approached the barn, capturing your attention for a moment before you rushed to organise your little hang out session.

“Tonight? At mine?”

Ellie’s head was turned towards the door, distracted by Dina poking her head around and realising she had been keeping her waiting. Her head snapped back to you as she wiped her hands down on her jeans nodding.

“Yeah, cool. I gotta get going but I’ll see you, yeah? It’s a date.” She rambled out, walking backwards for a moment to face you before turning around as you bid her farewell. You tried not to overthink the ‘it’s a date.’

Night time rolled around, and you were cringing at yourself in the mirror. It was just going to be a chill little night in with Ellie, the same way it always was since you’d had your own place in Jackson— but you’d put in a little extra effort to look cute, despite wearing just a tank top and pyjama pants. You did your hair all pretty, applying a little bit of makeup you’d made yourself from ingredients, which you’d learnt how to make from a book about female prisoners. You felt cute, and you were hoping Ellie might think the same— but you didn’t wanna get ahead of yourself.

A knock at your door sounded a little while into the night, and you tried to quell the relieved butterflies tearing through your stomach by taking a deep breath, heading out your room to answer it. You swung the door open, expecting Ellie — only to be met with Joel. Your smile faltered for no more than a second, wondering how long Ellie’s patrol was going on for before fixing your face, not wanting to hurt his feelings.

Joel was what you thought every man should be. You’d first met him and Ellie a few days outside of Jackson when they were trying to find Joel’s brother, Tommy. You were headed to Jackson too to find the only person that might’ve been alive in your family, your dad. You were no more than a year younger than Ellie, out there all by yourself and Joel couldn’t let you continue on that way. You were headed to the same place, so he let you tag along — plus, he figured Ellie might want a friend. So it turned out, your dad wasn’t the greatest guy. He was just as neglectful and angry since the last time you’d seen him as a child. After causing more damage, he packed up with his new family and left the safe haven of Jackson to live in a warmer climate (for whatever reason.) You were just a kid, a damaged and lonely kid — and Joel being the man he was, stepped up. He wasn’t just caring for Ellie, he now had you on his hands— making sure your needs were met and you were living comfortably in your new residence. The two of you had grown close over the years, he was the closest thing to a father you ever had.

“Y’asked to borrow sugar for those cookies you said you’d make for Maria’s thing?” He drawled, swinging his backpack off his shoulder to dig through it— having remembered the favour you’d briefly asked of him a week ago. “Got a whole tub of it, right here. Don’t let anyone else see that, they’ll come knockin’ and you’ll be out again in no time.” He presented you with a wooden tub, filled to the brim with brown sugar. Your expression softened, taking it in your hands as you looked up at him gratefully.

“Knew I could count on you, old man.” you grinned, the nickname you and Ellie had so kindly gifted him never losing its charm. He nodded, shy of affection but smiled anyway — your sweet ways poking him right in the soft spot. He stepped back to walk away, and before he could go any further your voice cut through, stopping him in his tracks.

“Joel.” you shot out, almost urgently. God, you felt a little desperate.

“Yeah?” He gruffed, and you paused for a moment, brows furrowed as you started to realise how late it was actually getting. Was Ellie coming at all? He saw right through your expression, knowing that something had to be bothering you. Joel stepped a little closer, tilting his head at your far away expression. “What’s up, kiddo?” Any other time you’d smile at the nickname. Ellie was kid, and you were kiddo. That, or ‘thing one’ and ‘thing two’ from that old Cat in the Hat book he’d shown you.

“Have you seen Ellie tonight, at all?” you gnawed on your bottom lip, trying to hide your concern and failing. Joel seemed to falter, his eyes skimming from you to behind you, noticing how you’d set up your living room. Jars of the skincare, face masks, the lot of it — laid out on the coffee table. Bowls of snacks sat out, untouched, with blankets strewn about to make the couch look comfy and fun. You’d even hung up some fairy lights that had been a pain to find batteries for if he remembers correctly, you begging him to always look for them on his hunts. He was piecing things together a little when your voice dragged his attention back to you, your frown deepening. “It’s just, she said she was gonna come round and hang out with me tonight. ‘Was gonna teach her about skin care. We haven’t hung out in ages and I guess… I just thought…” You trailed off, Joel’s eyes dropping down to his shoes briefly.

“Yeah, uh.” He cleared his throat a little awkwardly, unsure how to approach the situation that he was realising to be more delicate than he thought. “Saw ‘er at the bar with that Dina on the way over here. They… were gettin’ pretty wasted.” He sounded apologetic, like he knew just how pathetic you were and you couldn’t stop your face from falling — rejection and humiliation swiftly settling in making your cheeks heat up.

“Oh.” Your eyes widened, before they dropped away from Joel’s pitying gaze. “Yeah, makes sense I mean they were just on patrol together.” You rushed out a chuckle, hand resting back on your door like you wanted to close it. “Well thanks for stopping by with the sugar Joel, you’re the best.” You hurried, backing up so you could send him away, not wanting to give away how upset you were. It was no use though, Joel knew you. He knew the look on your face all too well, that same look of rejection on your face that he’d seen when your dad was still around. You had tells, your face would go all tight and rigid like you were afraid any display of emotion might send you hurtling over the edge into tears. Joel placed his hand on the door before you had even made an attempt to shut it, gazing at you for a moment trying to find the right words to say. It wasn’t often he had to do this kind of thing, a dad duty.

“You uh— you got room for me in there? I’m startin’ to look a little old, maybe I could… benefit from this typ’a thing.” He suggested, voice serious like it always was with a softness to his expression. You stared back at him, slightly surprised but considering it. You could send him away, spend the rest of the night in tears and eating all the snacks you’d prepared, or… “Until Ellie decides to show her sorry ass, of course.” He added, throwing in a jokey smile at the end. Joel smiling was rare, so when he did smile you always found it contagious. You pushed your door open wider, stepping aside.

“Welcome to my spa, mister Miller.”

Before long, Joel’s coat and boots were kicked off at your door and he was sat on your couch, your cold hands smearing your home made face mask over his face.

“You really need to shave. This beard is what’s making you look old.” You joked, the pink goo narrowly avoiding his beard hairs as you rubbed it into his cheek.

“Yeah yeah, you try findin’ a razor that’s worth shit around here.” He shook his head making you tut at his movement obstructing your application. “This supposed to burn?” He frowned, pointing to his face. Your eyes widened, pulling back. You were sure you had made it hypoallergenic, but the book you learnt how to make it from was pretty dated — maybe it was wrong. He chuckled at your expression, relaxing. “m’fuckin with ya, kiddo.”

You scrunched your nose angrily, scooping out some product and smearing it over his mouth so he couldn’t talk, his reaction to this making you burst out laughing. He wiped it off with the back of his hand, glaring at you, scrunching his own face up in disgust.

“Tastes like shit.”

“Well that’s because you’re not supposed to eat it, it’s to replenish the moisture barrier in your skin.” You enunciated, repeating what you’d read in your book proudly.

“To what?” He sarked and you rolled your eyes playfully, prodding his cheek gently to get him to turn it.

“No more questions. Let me finish this, grandpa.” You concentrated, applying the rest of the face mask to his skin. You leant back, admiring his glossy pink mask, all done. “Well, don’t you look pretty.” You held back your laugh, and he reached up to gently touch the sticky layer over his skin.

“What, you ain’t got no cucumbers for my eyes?” he leant back in his seat and you laughed at the imagery as you picked up your hand mirror, beginning to apply the face mask to your own skin.

“C’mon now Joel. You know that cucumbers are a luxury this time of year, I’m not wasting them on you.” You scooped out product, smoothing the refreshing slime across your cheek. He chuckled, raising his eyebrows as if to say ‘fair enough’ before falling quiet. You glanced his way, nodding at the popcorn bowl on the table. “Help yourself to the snacks, or i’m just gonna eat them all.” You chuckled lightly. He didn’t, as expected— arms crossed over his chest.

“So what do I do now? Just wait?” He looked around, taking in the way you’d decorated the place with hopes to impress Ellie. His heart was old and damaged, but it twinged in sympathy for you — knowing her repeated absence was probably weighing on you, the pair of you once joined at the hip.

“Yeah, it’ll dry and then you can peel it right off.” You smiled, your focus now centred in on making sure you didn’t get the mask in your eyebrows.

“Kiddo, I’m sorry you got stood up.” He turned to look at you and your movements froze, turning to look back at him caught off guard.

“Really, Joel— it’s okay, and I really appreciate you being here.” You smile, trying to convince him that you weren’t hurt by Ellie ditching you for Dina, the pure existence of the dark haired girl filling you with nerves and slight insecurity.

“But you’d rather her be here, right?” You wanted to put your defensives up, but his thick comforting accent made you sigh— putting down the jar and mirror, finished on your face. It was hard not to tell Joel the truth, maybe it would feel good to talk to someone about it. You opened your mouth to speak, and he cut you off. “You like’er.” He stated, and your words died in your throat. Surely he wasn’t calling you out like that?

“Of course I like Ellie, she’s my—”

“Not… like that. You love her.”

Your throat closed up and you blinked, how the fuck did he know? You said nothing, confirming his suspicions with your silence and your eyes got a little glassy, sure that this ordeal was making you look even more pathetic than before.

“And, hell— I want you to know it’s alright by me. Not that you need my permission or anythin’ but— i’m… i’m good with the gay stuff, always have been. N’ you two make sense together. I think i’ve always kinda known.” His forehead line deepened as he tried to word things sensitively, being gentle not exactly his forte.

“Well… thanks Joel. i’m sure i’ll just… get over it.”

“What I’m sayin’ is… You can talk to me. Alright?”

“Alright.”

You’d helped Joel peel off the mask, and now you were applying a cooling moisturiser that you’d made to his skin that was a little pink from the peel. “Now you’d better not go around tellin’ anyone I’d had a spa day with you. Don’t wanna damage my reputation.” He weakly threatened you as you smoothed the pearly product into his rough skin. Times like this, when he was going back and forth with you in such a humorous way made it easy to forget what he was capable of, how many people he’d killed effortlessly.

“And what’s your reputation. Grumpy old man?” You raised an eyebrow making him chuckle.

“Watch it.”

You moved on to apply the product to your own face, and he picked up your hand mirror, checking out your handiwork. To him, he looked the same — just a little shinier, though he wasn’t sure what he was expecting. A comfortable silence fell over you as you smoothed the product into your skin, reaching forward with your other hand and stuffing some popcorn into your mouth. His chuckle faded into a fond smile as he watched you miss your mouth with some of the kernels, giggling to yourself.

“You and Sarah would’a got on.”

Maybe he was feeling sentimental, it was always harder not to face your emotions later on in the night — and perhaps the ambience of your home that you’d made was reminding him of old times. You slowed your movements, as if you’d move too fast and burst his bubble of reminiscing. You wanted Joel to feel comfortable like he’d made you. You even chewed slower to be quieter, staying silent to let him speak as he stared into space at one of the lit candles on your fireplace. “She always liked doin’ this kinda thing. I always said no. Was too much of a manly man.” He scoffed with a sad smile at the silliness behind his reason, shaking his head slightly in regret.

“I would have liked to know her.” You admit softly, staring at his profile— still glowy from the product you’d applied.

“She was all girly, like you. Always wearin’ pink n’ purple. Would’a been the best of friends.” He finally turned to look at you, his eyes a little sad and glossy at the distant and lost possibility. Yours were too, you couldn’t imagine his loss— Joel never spoke about Sarah. You realised now, that he was sharing something vulnerable with you because you’d been brave enough to fess up to something vulnerable too that night, which made your heart expand in size by ten. For tonight, your Ellie wound was patched up by Joel. You touched his arm, and you shared a smile.

Joel stood with his boots on, pulling his coat on at the door — having just reached midnight and he figured it wasn’t appropriate to stay any longer.

“You feeling like a new man after that facial?” You jabbed with a grin. He chuckled, buttoning up his thick jacket preparing for the snowy weather.

“Damn right.” He went along with it making you laugh. He stood up straight after pulling his backpack on his back, looking down at you with more sincerity now. “You gonna be alright kiddo? Can talk to her if you want but I reckon you… got it handled.” He trailed off knowingly when your eyes widened at the suggestion.

“No, I’m sure me and her will talk… and i’m okay, thanks Joel.” You nod at him with more meaning than you’re both willing to address again and he nods back.

“I’ll see you.”

Jackson was quiet that time of night, watching his step as to not slip on melted ice. Joel’s eyes flit up from his boots to the figure fumbling away from the bar on the path towards the living spaces. Ellie, drunk as a skunk hobbling home, Dina in the distance stumbling her separate way.

“Ellie.” Joel greet, stepping up behind her and she swung around, gleefully throwing her arms up.

“Joel!”

“Let’s get you home.” He nodded, stepping by her side to make sure she didn’t fall and hurt herself. He wasn’t mad at her, she probably didn’t even know — but he couldn’t help but sigh at her thoughtless, joyful mood.

“Why’re you out so late, old man?” Ellie slurred slightly, head bowed to watch her step carefully.

“Don’t you worry about me kid.” He took a hold of her arm when she stumbled lightly, having lost the card game one too many times with Dina. Dina had needed cheering up after a spat with Jesse, and Ellie had stepped up to help being the good friend she was. It was mainly to get her to stop whining about it on their shared patrol trips.

“You had plans tonight. Shouldn’t’ve been in there gettin’ wasted. You know that.” His voice was quiet but meaningful and Ellie’s head rose from its position, staring ahead with a confused expression before it settled in realisation, saying your name.

“Shit.” She swore, wiping a hand down her face as she arrived at her house, right beside Joel’s. The thought of blowing you off so badly seemed sobering and she climbed the porch step, fumbling for her keys and turning to look at the man stood before her, even in her drunk state recognising the fatherly look of disappointment on his face. “Was she mad?” She squint and Joel stepped back.

“No.” He confirmed and she sighed, watching him for a moment. “Make it right, Ellie.” He nodded, before departing to his own house. Ellie sighed once more. She’d fucked up, bad.

♡ ♡ ♡

[idkfitememate]

"Freedom, if demanded of you by an archon, is really no freedom at all."

~ Venti ♡

♡ Boar Creator:

A Boar? In This Economy?

Pt.2 Pt.3

Description: After falling into the world of Teyvat, Reader finds that instead of being a person, they’re a Boar! And the Creator, no less. However with they survive?

Venti Encounter

Description: Venti gets shocked when he finds two Dvalins.

Diona Encounter

Description: Diona finds a friend in a certain boar by hunting for plants to poision drunks. Oh and Klee’s there too.

Fooling Venti

Description: Venti finds an enemy is a certain cat-wielding boar.

Visiting a Friend

Pt.2

Description: Friends come in all shapes and sizes across all of Teyvat.

Destroying Diluc with Diona

Pt.2

Description: Boar and Diona absolutely fuck up Diluc’s livelihood because screw capitalism and screw drunk people.

Roommates

Description: Here we see how our wondrous heroes found their way in the Teyvat to cause chaos- I mean help people.

The True Creator?

Description: If the “True Creator” could see their “fantastic” creations running the world of Teyvat.

Fish Blasting with Friends

Description: Klee and Razor have a grand old time with Boar and their amazing fish blasting abilities.

Barbara Encounter

Description: Boar beats a pervert up for Barbara and expects pats for payment.

Frozen Vineyards

Description: Fucking up Diluc’s business model AGAIN with Diona, now on ice.

Killing Venti (with Cats!!)

Description: Fuck Venti. For no reason in particular. Drown him in cats. Give in the temptation.

Dvalin Rides with Klee & Diona

Description: Fun in the skies with a catgirl and tiny terrorist.

Mika Encounter (with Klee!!)

Description: Mika finally takes a nap with Klee and a boar.

Kaeya Encounter

Description: Kaeya finally meets the legendary boar, though, not in the extreme way he expected. Instead, in a very tired and sleepy way.

Naps with Venti

Description: Venti finally finds peace with the boar under a tree. For now, anyway.

Joining the Choir

Description: Venti learns betrayal from the boar as they join the choir and shit all over Barbatos’s good name.

Gifts for the Children

Description: The adults of Mondstadt corner the boar who may have… gifted (?) the children some questionable gifts.

No Weapons for Boar

Description: Boar is not allowed to have weapons. That’s final.

Fear the Librarian

Description: Lisa is the only thing in all of Teyvat that the boar fears.

Bombing Liyue

Description: Klee and boar bomb Liyue because Mika cried.

No Cooking Boar

Description: Boar hunting is illegal now. No if’s, and’s or but’s.

Albedo & Sucrose Encounter

Description: Albedo is creepy and Sucrose is baby, boar saves Sucrose for this reason and flips of Albedo for the same.

☆ Otter Creator

The Otter Chronicles

Pt.2 Pt.3

Description: Reader isekai’s as a Leisurely Otter and has the time of their life being pampered. As they navigate their new, rich lifestyle, trials and tribulations show themselves and force the Otter to fight for the future and friends… with a bit of tea of course.

Otter and Neuvillette

Description: Otter and Neuvillette hang out and do different things all around Fontaine.

Otter and Furina

Description: Otter and Furina have fun all across the Nation.

Aether Encounter

Description: Aether asks about the Otter who was sitting right next to the Sovereign and Archon of Fontaine, getting mixed results.

Visiting a Friend

Description: Friends come in all shapes and sizes across all of Teyvat.

Roomates

Description: Here we see how our wondrous heroes found their way in the Teyvat to cause chaos- I mean help people.

Happy Birthday Neuvillette!

Description: Otter surprises Neuvillette with water-ful gift from all across Teyvat.

The True Creator?

Description: If the “True Creator” could see their “fantastic” creations running the world of Teyvat.

Nighttime Shenanigans

Description: Following the Primordial Sea escapade, Furina and Neuvillette find out something interesting about Otter.

The Curtains Close

Description: Furina finds herself breaking down following the events of the curse and her freedom, Otter sees this and rushes to help.

Alone Time

Description: Otter finally gets some time to themself.

Shells for the Family

Description: Otter runs around giving shells to the aristocrats of Fontaine.

Otter Opera

Description: Otter organizes an opera in their likeness!.. Oh, and the others are there too I guess.

Spending Time with the Melusine

Description: Otter invites the Melusine to hang out in their personal room, unknowing that they’re being watched.

A Letter From Far Off Shores

Description: A gift in the form a a fic from an anon/mutual.

♡ Tiger Creator

Kaveh & Alhaitham Encounter

Description: Kaveh is tired, a tiger is right there… so soft looking… like a bed… Alhaitham however, is about to rip his hair out from his roomates stupidity.

Tighnari Encounter

Description: Tighnari is ALSO about to rip his hair out over a certain blond’s absolute stupidity.

Roomates

Description: Here we see how our wondrous heroes found their way in the Teyvat to cause chaos- I mean help people.

Nahida & Aether Encounter

Description: More people sleep on the tiger’s haunches, and Nahida has a realization.

The True Creator?

Description: If the “True Creator” could see their “fantastic” creations running the world of Teyvat.

Visiting a Friend Pt.2

Description: Friends come in all shapes and sizes across all of Teyvat.

Sitting on a Throne

Description: Silly drabble of Tiger dunking on the false creator.

☆ Fox Creator

Raiden Shogun Encounter

Description: A Vision taking ceremony is stopped at tiny fox finding itself curled up asleep on a certain God of Eternity’s foot.

Roomates

Description: Here we see how our wondrous heroes found their way in the Teyvat to cause chaos- I mean help people.

Yae Miko Encounter

Description: Yae Miko finds the fox that embarrassed her God, and decides the best course of action would be to take the tiny being to the God. A mistake.

The True Creator?

Description: If the “True Creator” could see their “fantastic” creations running the world of Teyvat.

Miss. Hina?!

Description: Itto was being an idiot again and mistakes a passing by Gorou as a certain sensual writer, much to our fox’s chagrin.

♡ Primo Geovishap Creator

Zhongli & Xiao Encounter

Description: A large Primo Geovishap follows Zhongli and Xiao after a mission, acting like a large dog. Both have mixed feelings on the matter.

Roomates

Description: Here we see how our wondrous heroes found their way in the Teyvat to cause chaos- I mean help people.

The True Creator?

Description: If the “True Creator” could see their “fantastic” creations running the world of Teyvat.

☆ Golden Weasel Thief Creator

Liyue Encounter

Description: Liyue pays their favorite little thief, unknowing of where that money goes.

Mountain Shaper Encounter

Description: Weasel finds out that his favorite old man might have some ties to the Adepti.

♡ Finch Creator

Qiqi, Baizhu & Yanfei Encounter

Description: Being a finch is pretty nice, large food portions and… a dead child, sick doctor and talking snake..?

☆ Deer Creator

Tighnari & Collei Encounter

Description: Tighnari and Collei come across the most peculiar deer, surrounded by tigers.

Cy-NOOO!!!

Description: Cyno meets the deer, Tighnari dies due to pun related illness.

Slowly Healing

Description: Deer and Collei take the morning slow, allowing for Collei to rest and deer to help as best they can.

Found Family

Description: Deer finds family in Liyue.

Moonlit Desert Travels

Description: A gift in the form a a fic from an anon/mutual.

♡ Lucklight Creator

Abyssal Encounter

Description: After getting stuck, our group of heroes gets help from a tiny glowing friend, for a price anyway.

☆ Dragon Creator

Liyue’s New Dragon

Description: Liyue finds out that Rex Lapis isn’t the only Dragon in the Nation, and that this Dragon may have ties to less than nice people.

Fontaine’s New Dragon

Description: Furina adds a new member to her troupe, shocking everyone, especially a certain Dragon

♡ Large Tusked Polaral Creator

Zarpolyarny Palace Encounter

Description: The Rooster thinks the funniest prank would be to allow a predator to all to wander around with no restraint. A mistake.

☆ Snake Creator

Zhongli Encounter

Description: Zhongli finds a new friend in a reptile who was just passing by, a long and very large snake.

♡ Horse Creator

Mondstadt Encounter

Description: Mondstadt grapples with the fact that horses exist and therefore their cavalry (at least the captain) now have a horse.

☆ Red Panda Creator

Inazuma Encounter

Description: Their a terror all across Inazuma, scaring all who cross their path and leaving them bruised and scarred. This being of torture and despair? A adorable little red panda.

♡ Sumpter Beast Creator

Dori Encounter

Description: Dori introduces her new pal to all in her palace. One douche bag takes it to far and the trader doesn’t take it to lightly.

☆ Raccoon Creator

Where in the World is Raccoon?

Description: Figuring out where the fuck a raccoon would make a home in Teyvat.

THEY STOLE WHAT???

Description: A raccoon did what all of Fontaine would’ve assumed naturally was impossible. But they made it possible.

A Gift From a Friend

Description: A gift in the form a a fic from an anon/mutual.

♡ Melusine Creator

Fontaine Encounter

Description: A new Melusine has made their way into Fontaine and attached themselves to a certain Dragon Sovereign, the aristocracy of Fontaine doesn’t know how to feel about it.

☆ Deep Sea Crab Creator

Freminette Encounter

Description: Freminette takes a quick dive beneath the seas of Fontaine to get away for a while, but while down there makes a shocking discovery.

♡ Golden Wolflord Creator

Sayu Encounter

Description: Sayu has a new friend, all of Watasumi island don’t know how to feel about it.

☆ Griffin Creator

Aether & Paimon Encounter

Description: Aether and Paimon find out that a griffin has been following them for the longest time. Not cool man.

♡ Hawk Creator

Mondstadt Encounter

Description: A Hawk finds themself counteracting all the shit a boar is doing to a poor, helpless Mondstadt. Besides Venti.

☆ Seelie Creator

Bennett & Razor Encounter

Description: Bennett finds a (slightly homicidal) seelie who perfectly counteracts his bad luck! And Razor gets meat out of the friendship, so he’s all set.

♡ Hydra Creator

Liyue Encounter

Description: A Hydra shows up out of nowhere. Hijinks ensue.

☆ Polar Bear Creator

Harbingers Encounter

Description: A polar bear finds themself at a members funeral. Instead of mourning, they spend time with their best friend, but for some reason everyone looks scared?

♡ Deep Sea Jellyfish Creator

Wriothesley & Sigewinne Encounter

Description: Wriothesley and Sigewinne have a small meaningless argument, interrupted by a large shadow covering the building.

☆ Crystalfly Creator

Nahida Encounter

Description: Nahida finds the oddest little Crystalfy who seems to know more than they let on.

♡ Squirrel Creator

Mona Encounter

Description: Mona falls asleep, and uh oh, a pine cone falls into her hat! Unfortunately for her, a little Squirrel really likes pine cones.

[ghostofbambifanfiction]

CYOA Chapter 53 Snippet

Beatrice Booth: Babe I was six years old and crushing on a grown-ass man

Lily Evans: Loads of people have inappropriately aged crushes as kids. I definitely had one. Fuck, what was that American sitcom from the 80s with the three dads and their gaggle of blonde daughters? The one with the Olsen twins in it?

Beatrice Booth: Full House

Lily Evans: Yes, that! The guy from Full House! Hang on a sec I need to Google this.

Beatrice Booth: Uncle Jesse?

Lily Evans: UNCLE JESSE I thought he was so COOL with his hair and his unbuttoned shirts.

Beatrice Booth: If Lily Evans has a type then by god it's 'man with Hair'

Lily Evans: LOL @ the capital h.

[the-real-treasure]

Wish Wish! One Shot #1

A Picture Says A Thousand Words.

Main Masterlist: Here

Drabble Masterlist: Here

Read on AO3: Here

Zeff discovers something about one of the kids that he had been stranded with after they all get off the rock.

(One-shot #1) [Baratie Age 8] Zeff's POV Trigger Warnings: Mention of starvation, residual trauma from starvation, issues with eating, possible eating disorder Word Count: 1493

"What letter is that?"

Zeff looked up from the delivery slip that had just landed in front of him. The Baratie was still under construction and bills were coming in left right and centre for every little thing. He didn't much care, the gold he had kept, the sack of treasure that he had feigned as food, was more than enough to pay for all of it, as well as get those kids some new clothes that actually fit and shit while things were still being worked on. They had all lost a lot of weight over those eighty-five days, and while he and the little eggplant were slowly but surely returning to a healthy standard, he worried a lot about the other one.

The vicious freak of a thing was little more than a slip of flesh, any and all clothes hanging loose and limp over bone and sinew that he couldn't get coated in fat no matter what he feed them. Even now, a bit under a month off the rock, they still refused to eat until both he and Sanji had started their plates. They were like a feral kitten, screaming and yowling and scratching those first few days on board the ship that rescued them, stalking the little blonde boy and almost force feeding him if he did so much as offer them a crumb of bread before he began, their ringed eyes of gold and aqua swirling with unrestrained panic every time.

He breathed out a sigh. There wasn't much to be done about that but keep up the food. One of these days the kid would realise the rest of them wouldn't die if they took a bite whenever they were hungry. Instead of continuing to worry, he instead stood up from the desk and peeked his head around the corner.

Where he had set up camp in the still to be fully fitted kitchen, the two kids had made themselves at home in what will be the dining hall, in the shadow of the twin staircases that hug the opposite wall and curve with it. He could see them squatting next to the new sign, the light filled letters dull for now until they get hung outside. They really weren't meant to have arrived for another month or two, but the guys knew Zeff by name and hurried the job along to get themselves away from the, still notorious, pirate. Y/n was staring at the first one in extreme consternation.

"...B...?"

"Yeah, told you you'd get it!" Sanji gave their joined hands a shake, pointing to the second one that was propped up against the wall, the large capital 'R' wrapped in plastic but the shape still visible. "Next one!"

"What are you two doing ever there?" He watched as the two of you leapt away from each other like you were being burnt, your h/c haired figure, long messy mop pulled into a ponytail that fell down their back before looping back up to be held in place by the same tie, spinning on him with a glare as you leaped between him and Sanji, the little eggplant snarling at him as well.

"Mind your own business, you nasty old pile of fish food!" The wee boy shouted from behind you, and he squinted down at the pair of you, hobble extra pronounced due to his still new peg leg as he walked out to meet yous.

"Little eggplant, honestly, just swear like a normal person."

"Least I don't use so much oregano I could kill a person." He snarked and Zeff presses his eyes and mouth closed and blows a sigh out his nose. He is a scared little boy trying to act brave, not a disrespectful crewmember. He doesn't need hit. Opening his eyes again, he finds your eyes burning into his skull, searching his eyes for an intention to harm. You wouldn't find it.

"I'm gonna ask again." You drop your eyes away from his, "What are you doing out here?"

"I said, mind-!"

"-Practicing."

"Eh?" Their eyes dart from his feet to theirs, scuffing the toe of their shiny new boots on the tiles floor.

"I was... practicing my letters." His eyes flick over to Sanji, the boy already glaring heatedly at him, hand clasped in theirs squeezing so tightly that their claw like nails dug into his skin.

"You haven't been able to read this whole time." Their shoulders scrunched up to their ears, head ducked down further and Sanji pulled them into him. "Fffffff-" The kid doesn't swear, Zeff, let's keep it like that. "-Fflip sake, could'a told me. Would've got you books or something." Your eyes snap up to him, and even Sanji glare fades to confusion.

"...What?" He rests his curled fists on his waist as he looked down at the pair.

"You think I would want you running about taking orders and counting stock not knowing how to read or spell? Thought you were smarter than this, come on." He turns back to the kitchen, not knowing if you would both follow, but there was no use standing and letting you struggle, just the pair of you.

"To do what?" He can hear your boots on the tile behind him and can picture you dragging a stumbling Sanji behind you.

"To learn, you little donkey. I don't have any books but I have notes and stock lists so we can start with actual words instead of fumbling with random letters."

He pushes open the doors to the kitchen and lets the pair of you pass, hands still grasping each other, with you leading the boy into the kitchen, the few counters already installed littered with papers.

"Come over here, you can show me what you can make out so far. That'll let me know what we're working with."

"What about me?" The blonde boy chirped up beside you, still not parting your intwined hands.

"Either help, or stay out of the way. It's not hard little eggplant." As you pulled a small stool up to the counter to sit alongside his chair, Sanji inserted himself between them, inspecting the papers. Zeff tugged off his overcoat, draping it over the arm as he settled into the chair and handed you a small order slip over Sanji's head. "Start with that, read it out loud and we'll go from there. I'll see about getting a couple of books ordered for yous to practise with properly. These'll have to work for now."

Your voice, which had spent the evening stuttering and stumbling over the names of different companies and construction costs, had fallen silent. Zeff was finishing up filling a few more receipts in the dying light cascading through the kitchen when he looked over to the pair of you.

Sanji's head was flat on the table, his grey-blue eyes, normally covered by the long floppy fringe, were shut and he could make out the curl on his other eyebrow with the slant of the hair. His bones and new wooden peg leg creaked as he stood, stiff from sitting for so long. Pulling the fabric at his arm up with him, he opened it and settled the warm fabric over his charge's shoulders before his eyes met yours, aqua and gold light illuminating the scene as you peered at him. In the growing darkness that crept its fingers up the walls of the room, the sight in front of him was spooky.

It reminded him of being on that rock, the light from your eyes piercing the cloying darkness at him over the ridge of rock separating you all. Now, instead of a barren expanse of rock creating distance between your eyes and his, the only thing that stood between you was a sleeping boy that had hollowed a space out of Zeff's heart for himself and completely encompassed yours.

"He knew I was embarrassed." Your voice was a whisper, not wanting to break the quiet that had fallen over the room. "The ones on the Orbit made fun of me for not reading. I can count fine, but letters and words are... hard."

"I get that." His voice is as hushed as yours, "We'll work on it. The three of us, we look after each other from now on, yeah?"

"Until we go to find the All Blue?" A smile quirked Zeff's face at your misty glowing eyes and whispers of the shared dream.

"Nah. I'll still be keeping an eye on yous even when you head out." He reached over you and ruffled your carefully tied up hair and you whacked his hand with more ferocity than he expected. "For now we'll just worry about getting your reading up to scratch." He smiled as your nose rolled up, and you followed him as he lifted Sanji into his arms and moved towards the stairs to your little loft rooms.

"You can work on chasing dreams later."

[melhindips]

The projects of a lifetime, the greatest capitals, end in an instant, in the dust of a missile, in the shelter centers that have become the first target. The crime scene always looks like a scene from a movie, a place whose elements were carefully arranged, but the truth is that the shoe, the remains of the two toys, and the traces of blood, are what remains of... Two children are still hanging between the earth and the sky, and at the door of the intensive care room, there is a mother and father beseeching God with all His names: “Without them, we will become zeros.”

- Photo from Omar bin Al-Aas shelter center

[doubleddenden]

I had a rather "American" realization about Legends Z-A. No its nothing about hamburgers and guns, hear me out-

As an American (apologies), I've been pronouncing it as Zee-Ay. I recently heard a non American poketuber refer to it as Zed-Ay, as I forgot Zed is typically how a lot of places pronounce it, much like H (pronounced Ay-ch here) can be pronounced Hay-ch elsewhere.

Then I had another realization.

Z-A/Zed-Ay? Could make sense if you just read it as is the way you're supposed to in your respective dialect. But then I had a 4 a.m. moment of mispronounced words- Zed-Ay in this case became Zed-Ah, or Zeta depending on how you say it (I've heard both Zay-ta and Zeh-Ta/Zeh-da).

And suddenly the peanut I call a brain started to bounce around in this skull of mine. And mind you, it's almost 5 am, and maybe won't mean much, but hear me out

Zeta- Greek. Not the first time we've had it in a Pokemon title. Omega Ruby and Alpha Sapphire, plus Episode Delta. All of these were Gen 6, despite being in Hoenn. In fact, Zeta is the 6th letter of the Greek alphabet.

Zeta is represented by the lowercase ζ. Capital? Ζ.

Yall it fits. Idk wtf it means but I might have stumbled upon something neat by complete sleep deprived accident.

If we follow this rabbit hole to the Ratatosk theory I posited a while back (summary: i basically theorized Zygarde is Z, so A probably would be a new Pokemon like X and Y were with Xerneas and Yveltal, and Ratatosk- a gossipy squirrel- comes from the same story of the Nordic world tree that the XYZ legends are based from), perhaps it could also tie to the ORAS primal forms to some degree? If for nothing else than to bring back Primal Kyogre and Groudon. Again, it is Gen 6.

But that's all I got so far. Thanks for hanging out in DD's theory corner

[lexa-griffins]

Oh let's goooo! What could it be for horny hour? (welcome back btw) how about... they're staying at a cabin with all of their friends for a weekend, there's only one room that they designated for a very pregnant Octavia. Clarke and Lexa ate very very horny, but Clarke really really really isn't into exhibitionism, freaks her out, she values her privacy. So Lexa has to find a way that works for them both 🙂‍↕️😏 (let me know if you want more specifics🫡)

Lexa should have known she wouldn't be fine from the start. She dislikes sharing a space with too many people for too long, much less a small living room for two nights with Clarke's friends.

But Clarke had seemed so excited, "One last vacation with everyone before Octavia pops out the baby!" that Lexa could simply not say no.

Now, looking at the cramped space of the living room with all the sleeping bags and at Clarke's water board shorts and bikini top, both her and the wetness between her thighs are regretting every decision. She'd steal Clarke for a quickie on the bedroom if Octavia didnt spend more time napping than with the gang and to be fair, Lexa is not about to fuck on a pregnant lady's bed.

Of course, Clarke is far from stupid and if the way Lexa keeps on touching her arm and back are any indication, her girlfriend is capital H horny.

A chase makeout session here and there that has everyone yell at them to stop being gross, a quick handjob in the bathroom, quickly eating Lexa out in the shower, that's really the most they can do but it doesn't seem to really scratch the itch as Lexa is all but humping her leg at this point.

If Lexa is already usually snappy at their friends, you can be certain she is one second away from bitting someone's head off with how horny she is.

The first night is torture. Despite bringing their own air mattress, the thing is awfully uncomfortable and after pushing her ass agaisnt Clarke's crotch several times and being - very gently admittedly - rejected after being told there is no way she is fucking her with 5 of their friends sleeping right next to them, Lexa is on the edge of murder.

"Shit we're out of beer. Someone needs to go into town!" Anya’s yell is what makes every lightbulb in Lexa's mind go off.

They took Clarke's old van up here, an eyesore Lexa had complained many times about but has never been more glad for than today. She is fast to volunteer herself and Clarke for the task, something that takes a four beers drink in Clarke by surprise but she cant complain before Lexa is grabbing the keys and throwing Clarke in the passenger's sit.

"We're not going to get the beer are we?" Clarke asks some ten minutes into the ride. Lexa takes a turn somewhere, making sure the van is parked somewhere safe and hidden.

"We will." She turns the van off, "But first, i need your cock inside of me so fucking bad."

Somehow, they manage to hang on long enough to make it to the backseat. Clarke's tipsy ass had a massive grin on her face the moment Lexa gets naked.

Lexa laughs, "What are you smiling so much at?"

Clarke's eye shine, "I really like seeing you naked."

Yeah, if Lexa wasn't ready to jump her before, she is now.

Turns out the back of the van is far more comfortable than the stupid air mattress. At least that's Lexa's humble opinion as Clarke drills her dick inside of her.

"Fuck fuck fuck, Clarke go deeper."

Clarke pauses for a second, "You have 8 inches inside, you want more?!"

"Oh shut up and fuck me!" Lexa laughs as she pulls her girlfriend in for a kiss.

Clarke is close, she can tell, "Keep going, love, fill me up, please!"

Clarke's eyes seem to shine in an unusual way at that but she obeys, filling Lexa with her cum.

They stand there for a moment, enjoying their moment alone, Clarke's face is buried in Lexa's shoulder and long fingers trace her back.

Suddenly a couple of tears fall on Lexa's shoulders.

"Love?" Lexa asks softly.

Clarke lifts her head, eyes filled with tears but a smile on her face.

"What's wrong?" Lexa tucks a strand of blonde hair behind Clarke's ear, cleaning up a tear with her thumb.

"Do you think next year we'll get the bedroom?" Clarke asks.

"The... bedroom?" Lexa wrecks her brain trying to understand what Clarke means.

"Yeah." It's the only answer she gets.

It finally clicks and Lexa smiles. She pulls Clarke down for a kiss, her heart fluttering. Clarke kisses her back, excited.

With their foreheads touching, Lexa stares at Clarke in the eye, "Get me pregnant before you rpopose to me Clarke Griffin and your head will be the only thing to enter that bedroom."

Lexa kisses Clarke's pouty face as an apology and Clarke accepts it.

They are paying for the beer when Raven calls them asking them how long dod they fuck for that it took them nearly 3 hours to take what should have been a 40 minute drive to and from town.

[afriendofours]

icefireanimates > afriendofours

licherally an intro bro

hi im Cyn

i stole that from a fictional character

softblocking doesn’t work on me because i just think tumblr glitched or i accidentally unfollowed you or that i forgot to follow you at all

it/its collectively

im just 18 guys in a trenchcoat (will get updated when more bozos walk into my head) pluralkit

idc about discourse/syscourse/shipcourse brooooo go outsideeeeeee get friendssss live lifeee

endo neutral but a bit uncomfortable with interacting

i swear, use caps, and am generally bad at typing and spelling

following me comes with the consequences of hundred of spam reblogs of random shit

DNI if wilbur soot/dteam fan or vivziepop supporter

proshippers just like. convey these ships with respect and dont romanticize it. basically be a good person. my abuse isnt a quirky ship dynamic. dont treat it like one.

i lov e:

wings of fire

laika aged through blood

sonic Somewhat

omori

ronblox piggy

isat

object shows

indigo park

rain world

deltarune

how fish is made

system tagging list that i do not promise to maintain using

❔ - lego/flur (He/Him [SPECIFICALLY WITH CAPITAL H’S])

⭐️ - rin (he/they)

⚫️ - yang (he/him)

⚪️ - yin (he/she)

💡 - lightbulb (she/her)

🏮 - airy (he/him)

🐈‍⬛ - g (he/they)

🦊 - vixen (she/it)

🪻- lavender (she/they)

🏳️‍🌈 - skylar (any)

🌟 - loop (they/them)

🐺 - Willow (she/her)

⁉️ - sketch (he/her)

🌕 - moon (she/her)

🔳 - Nathan/Lego^2/🔳 (he/him)

🤯 - Ran (he/they)

🌌 - Darkstalker i guess ?????? (he/him)

join my. server Boy

goodbye

[silversiren1101]

At The End - OCKiss24 Salvadore x Minovae

I managed to find time to actually participate in a writing event! We can thank my new ADHD meds for that I'm sure. Anyway, this first is featuring my Minovae and @dmagedgoods Salvadore, who I have long cherished their relationship as much as it's fascinated me. They're what could have been and what could never be. I'm so happy with how this came out - please know I cried multiple times while writing it!

Violet eyes looked out over the city below and beyond the marble balustrade. Smoke rose from nearly every main plaza and thoroughfare, and even what seemed to be the most innocuous of alleyways as well as the highest parapets. For the first in some many decades, nay, a century, even, there was no cause for alarm from this. It wasn’t demons ravaging the last line of defense in this nation that both was and wasn’t, but now could be. The war hadn’t reached here, Nerosyan, the capital, because the war was over.

The Knight Commander had done it. Knight Commander Salvadore had closed the Worldwound. Where no other could, and it hadn’t been for lack of trying, but for all so much bloodsoaked and desperate failure, the war had finally ended.

And by a poncy, arrogant noble with a stick up his ass to rival even Iomedae’s.

Miracles, it seemed, weren’t in so short supply as the name of this age had made it seem.

Minovae sighed deeply looking out over the city with its night sky filled with smoke for the first time not from war but from celebration, her tail listlessly hanging off the edge between the balusters. Bonfires beat back the darkness, and she realized then that the smell and sight was what was making her stomach clench and eyes rimmed with wet. How much like home it was, poor battered and stripped Westcrown, whose nightly pyres weren’t out of any cause for celebration but to beat back the shadow-beasts that stalked her streets once the sun set and feared the light.

A home she knew she’d never see again.

The ache in her mind from Thrune’s brand told her as much. She’d never make it as far as Westcrown once she crossed the border of homeland. They’d take her back to Egorian, where the beginning of this end began, and they’d put the loose end that she was to close once and for all. It was coming. Soon. She knew it was. They might even be ready to disappear her as soon as she stepped from Nerosyan’s walls.

The thought only reinforced that emptiness that pervaded her. She had nothing left to fight for, anyway. Even more, she’d fought alongside heroes. She’d helped do the impossible. The Crusades were over, and she’d played no small part in it. Even the fact she wore this evening not her armor, its weight heavy and familiar comfort, but finery, felt strange. So much of her existence had been defined by steel and blood and blade and shield, and now it was drawing to a close not in the middle of a craggy field that smelled of iron, but on the night of celebration, in a gala hosted by literal royalty.  

The liquor in her glass burned comfortingly as she took another sip. ‘As strong as you have’, she’d told the man, who’d grinned and reached under the bar for something so old and dusty she hadn’t been able to catch the label. It did the trick, vapors stinging her nose and warming her throat and gut better than anything she’d had in years, and she reminded herself to thank him before she left for the night.

“Ah, here you are.”

She would have started had her senses not been dulled by drink—truthfully, this was her fifth glass. The clink of the ice as she’d knocked it back had disguised his footsteps, she surmised. He had no reason to sneak up on her tonight, and he walked with all the confidence and bravado his station and title presumed on his behalf at nearly all times.

“Here I am…”, she flicked her gaze to the corner as he came to the balcony balustrade, leaning against it, mindful of her tail where it trailed across the marble. Those icy blues locked onto hers and held that gaze firm. She might have thought it a challenge, or some type of implied order as he was oft to give, had his lips not been lightly tugged ever so upwards at their corners into a smile that was, by all accounts, warm. She stared at those lips perhaps a moment too long, before continuing. “Though I’m not sure it is really you, Sal, with such an expression on that face.”

He took no offense to the diminutive of his name. Not with her, at least. But she did note the quirk in his brow; inquisitive.

“My dear, it is a night for celebration, if you have not noticed.

“And so even the great Salvadore can afford himself a smile? I see”, she smirked.

It felt bitter. Even as happy as she truly was for him, for all of them, the emptiness of her future had tainted this night before it had even began. She quickly returned her gaze to the bottom of the glass cradled between her fingers, dangling over the edge of open air above the city below.

A heavy beat of silence passed. She knew without meeting that gaze again that he was aware something was weighing on her. He was one of the few she’d ever met that matched her ability to read nearly anyone, no matter how inscrutable.

“You should go back inside, you know. It is a night for celebration, after all”, she used his own words, hoping it would rub him wrong enough to just make him leave. “I’m sure they’ll be wondering where the man of the evening is.”

But, she knew the copious drink had taken her off her game tonight. Normally she could handle him as she did other nobles, though certainly not lightly–he’d ever been one of her most difficult rivals. Even admitting as such had rankled her, but now, here, she could only think of the term fondly. She internally cursed the sweet heat cloying her thoughts.

“Without you? Without whom this would not be possible? No, my dear, your absence has been noticeable enough. You have spent enough time endearing the night air with your appearance, when it would be much better spent on the unworthy eyes back inside.”

She snorted at that. Shook her head. “Are you saying I look nice?”

“Is that such a surprise? You look beautiful. It is a crime that the first time I have seen you in a dress, you’ve spent most of it hiding away.”

It was true. She’d been present for the opening ceremonies, of course. She’d even started the night just as lively and bright as nearly everyone else, dancing one or two waltzes with their friends—then, someone had asked her what she would do next, after all this was done.

And the brand seared into her mind had started to ache.

She swallowed down a sigh, not wanting him to hear. Her tail, heavy, almost languidly, pulled itself back up from the plummet she wanted to take before them and instead squished the air like shoulders would a shrug.

“You could have always ordered me into a dress, if you were so desperate to see it.”

“It would not have looked half as radiant on you than one donned willingly. I can see there was truth to your stories. Any lesser man in there would crumple before you, if you had your heart set on crushing theirs.”

Had he always been this funny, she wondered. No, it was the alcohol working in his favor. Still, she chuckled. Heat licked to the skin beneath her scaled cheeks. She knew she must’ve looked much like a watermelon then–those green-tinted opals sitting in a sea of red.

“Alright, alright. Need I tattle to Daeran with how much you’re trying to butter me up?” 

It was an empty threat and joke, they both knew. The only thing Daeran would be mad at was that he was not here to see and hear this for himself. 

“When I left, he was last doing what I expected you  to be doing all evening. Dancing the night away, breaking those hearts with each hand he trades for another.”

“I’m glad he’s enjoying himself. It’s just… louder in there than I remember…”, she answered wistfully. “I’m not used to being around so many people again. At least, not in a war camp… without my armor.”

He knew all about her past navigating through galas and parties much like these. She’d told him as such, how she used to stalk her prey on their own grounds, playing their own game; the Hellknight who’d eschew her armor for a dress and weapon for an invitation to dance, luring the guilty in with honey only to bring them to the guillotine all the same.

She only hoped he’d accept the excuse. Just telling him the truth would kill her. Him, possibly, too. Literally. The last thing she wanted on her record before she went to the Boneyard was taking down the angelic hero who’d ended the Crusades in a blackened, infernal blaze of her brand detonating.

“It has quieted some. The wine has seen to that, and most have had their choices in dance.”

She hummed. “Then surely my presence isn’t that missed.”

“On the contrary”—a shift of movement caught her attention. She looked back up from her glass toward him once more, and found a hand, fingers lightly curled upward, extended in invitation towards her.

“This entire Crusade, you have bragged about your prowess on the dance floor and told me of your greatest triumphs taking down ‘arrogant blowhard fops of my caliber,’”—she felt a rush of even hotter flame to her cheeks and a rattle shook her tail as he’d remembered one of the rants she’d gone on after particularly pissing her off—“, and yet, I have yet to see it for myself. I insist: would you have but a single dance with me, Lady Minovae?”

She stared. First, at his hand, those tan fingers extended invitingly. By all accounts they should be as rough and calloused as hers, and yet they looked untouched by the horrors of the war they’d both fought through, side by side. His nails were perfectly cut and filed, and shone beneath the moonlight. Hells, she swore there was a light glow emanating from it, but she had no idea if it was just from how bright the moon was, or because of the angelic power coursing through him. It looked warm, despite him being a dhampir.

And then her gaze shifted upward, to the rest of him. His blue eyes had narrowed, warm, inviting, despite how piercingly cold their color was. She noticed then that the night had gotten to his usual perfectly manicured and groomed self. Some hairs had fallen from his typical neat style, wayward curls—curls!—teasing his forehead and giving him an almost roguish appeal that made her breath catch. For once, he looked real. He looked mortal. At this, his highest point in power, literally touched by the Heavens and the Abyss alike, Salvadore looked more like a living, breathing, touchable person than at any other point in which she’d known him. He didn’t rise in her that distrust and disgust that normally appeared when she lay eyes upon a noble, even with him dressed in the brightest white and gold finery she’d ever seen.

He looked… 

Warm. Handsome. Inviting. Mortal. An ally. A friend. Something more. Her breath caught for a moment. She found herself staring at his lips again, sitting above his chiseled chin and jawline. Had they always looked so… soft? He was doing that soft smile again, confident and controlled, but welcoming. The kind that made you let down your guard, of which the whiskey clouding her thoughts certainly wasn’t helping.

“A good kisser?”, she snorted derisively. “I didn’t know they taught you how to kiss in noble school. I certainly don’t know where else you would’ve learned given how insufferable you are. Unless that mysterious ‘mentor’ of yours taught you that, too.”

Salvadore only made a low noise in the back of his throat, confident and knowing. The look he shot her was much the same. “You are welcome to a demonstration, if you need the proof, my lady knight, Arangeir.”

Her boisterous laugh was all the answer he needed: never in a million years.

She remembered the moment in a sudden flash like it was yesterday. She couldn’t even remember what had triggered that conversation, but she certainly remembered the tease and invitation now. It hadn’t been a million years, but she wouldn’t get a million years. Sal might. He and Daeran together. But she wouldn’t. She might not even get a week. Daeran would forgive her for this, she knew… and well, if he didn’t, she supposed she wouldn’t be around long to suffer it.

“…A dance?”, she licked her lips, suddenly feeling overly warm, overly flushed. Her dress exposed much of her back and shoulders, letting her feathers and scales breathe , and only went to about her mid-thigh regardless. Still, she felt hot. She felt stupid, too, but did it matter? “You can have your dance, if I can have something in return.”

That piqued his curiosity. Salvadore drew his hand back slightly, if only because he’d straightened his posture. His head tilted, and a brow raised. Something glinted in his eye. Concern? She didn’t care.

“Do you remember months ago… You claimed to be a good kisser. I didn’t believe you. What if I told you I still don’t?”

Her pulse was racing now. She could feel it thud-thud-thudding in her chest. It got even worse as realization dawned upon him.

She half expected a slap; he was a taken man now, after all. He might have even just turned around and gone back inside, which, fine. For the moment, though, he only stared at her. She could tell he was trying to decipher why she was asking for this now, why in the Hells now? Could she blame him? Of course not, he had no idea the severity of the truth, of just how little time she had left to do what she wanted and be a little crazy before everything ended.

What she didn’t expect was for those fingers to return. Closer. Curled under her chin.

She gasped lightly, hotly, as Salvadore clasped her jaw. Those hands were cold, as she thought, but the feel of that icy chill across her flushed skin felt almost like healing magic dancing across wounds, knitting them closed. 

Her tail vibrated anxiously, filled with so much energy where it had lain dead before. She could feel her feathers rising from neck to tail tip, fluffing up in that way that made her look like an alarmed cat.

Their eyes held each others’, and his additionally held a question. 

Now or never.

“You promised a demonstration”, she merely answered.

He needed no other reassurance.

Their height difference made it more difficult than it should have been, but Salvadore had been only truthful in his claims. He knew exactly what to do.

A hand pressed to the flat of her back, directly over the strip of feathers running down her spine and scales surrounding them—now running icily themselves trying to cool her down. She briefly wondered if he even noticed with the chill in his own hands, but let it drift away as soon as it had come. He pressed her close and up, bidding her to her toes as he himself confidently arched downward.

Soft. They were soft. How funny it was, she thought, that such iron and coldness could come from those lips only for them to be so damn soft. Softer than hers. Theirs pressed against the other, and her eyes slipped closed upon the gentle impact. She mapped them in the darkness behind her eyelids, each and every crease, the cupid’s bow, the feel of his breath across her face.

When had she last been kissed? She didn’t remember. Wetness rimmed her eyes again. She didn’t even love him. Love had escaped her at every turn, snatched away always and viciously by circumstance. All she could think of was the emptiness, of what hadn’t been and what she’d never had. His lips right then, for only this brief moment, were filling that yawning void. It was a piece that didn’t fit in this puzzle. Not perfectly. But for a moment, it was filled.

Then pressing. Then prodding. Further still, he took it, and she went rigid in shock before melting as his tongue breached what should have been where this had ended. It brought with it the taste of wine, luxurious and more opulent than any her salary would have spared. Something in her found it funny that for as much as she’d always tormented him about her dislike of fine wines, he’d still found a way to share a glass with her.

At the end. Of everything.