#i know teaching is hard and now pays next to nothing but he just doesn’t do his job and if he wants to keep it shit better start changing

[localgardenweed]

About to lose my shit over my shitty Algebra teacher cause i think he’s the devil incarnate cause he doesn’t respect kid’s 504 plans, there is this kid who may not always show up to class on time for some reason im not sure why but they try their best to catch up and work hard and they asked to send over and take the recent test they missed in a certain classroom and he was like “No you cant, you have to show up tomorrow in here to take it” when literally in their 504 plan says they can take it in that room no one can force them to take it in their classroom, but DOES HE CARE??? NOOOOOO. I think he was just trying to be tough or smth god knows what cause he has a huge ass power complex like dear god dude we get it you were a army guy but is yelling at teens really what you wanna do to feel that high of power again?? The kid then complained to the school and he got a ass whooping but sadly not fired and then the next day was pissed as hell and took it out on all of us 😍

he doesn’t care to actually help students at all, he just gives up on them if they don’t understand the first or barely the second time and tells em to basically fuck off and find someone else to explain it and i get it teaching is hard you might not be able to get everyone to understand BUT ITS LITERALLY HIS GO TO RESPONSE WHEN YOU DONT UNDERSTAND SMTH IN HIS SHITTY RAPID FIRE EXPLANATION WHEN HE JUST JUMPS FROM THING TO THING WITH NO VISUAL OR EVEN SENSE CAUSE WTF HOW DID YOU GET THAT ANSWER HELLO?? SLOW DOWN?? We were going over the study guide and he started doing a question and then realized half way it was “too hard” to do on the board so he gave up and kept going to the next question and a kid at my table who didn’t do that part pf the study guide cause they dont know how asked “Can you go over that please i don’t understand it” and his response was “im not going over it just to fill it in” and the kid said “im not asking to just fill it in im asking cause I DONT KNOW HOW TO DO IT” and guess what. HE DIDNT DO IT HE JUST IGNORED THEM AND KEPT GOING. YOUR STUDENT IS ASKING FOR HELP AND YOU AINT DOING SHIT. HELLO??? AND THIS ISNT THE FIRST TOME HE ALWAYS PULL THIS SHIT ALL THE TIME, GOD FORBID YOU ASK A QUESTION MORE THAN ONCE THATS TOK SCARY AAAHHHHH.

I hope all his classes fails and they fire his ass cause omg there has never been anything positive said about this man that isn’t from favorites/people who already are godly at math. The average student who’s had him HATES HIM.

Im really debating like cussing him out Thursday after my final cause i cant just walk away and act like it was a okay class no he needs to get fucking humbled at least see what he does is harmful and shitty and douchey. I dont care if i get in trouble im not gonna go down like this so many kids in that class have struggled cause of his ass not doing his job. And sure some of there are rowdy and sure some are a bit off task but that doesn’t give you the right to abandon them. If i ever kicked my own bucket he would be 5 of my 13 reasons why.

[ponderingmoonlight]

would you be able/want to do something with gojo where him and the reader are both teachers and are in an established relationship but the student (aside from megumi) don’t know and start trying to figure out who gojo’s in a relationship with? i feel like gojo would either mess with them or be honest that it’s you but they just don’t believe him cause. yk. it’s you?

Hey, thank you so much for that great request, it was really fun to write! I mixed it up a little with an already existing fic of mine, I hope you don't mind. Let me know what you think <3

Part l to this fic can be found here

Gojo going nuts when his students don't believe him that you are his wife

Pairing: husband!Gojo x fem!reader

Word Count: 1,5k

Synopsis: When Satoru wears his wedding ring for the first time in front of his students, Nobara can't help but wonder who he's married to. But when Gojo confesses it's you, his students just don't believe him.

Warnings: language, sad Gojo lol, this is an absolute comfort fanfic so there you go if that's what you need today, read part l if you haven't yet <3

Tags:  @arehzhera @ploylulla @tzubaki @beatrexworld @kenstarsworld @dazaisdick @hellkaiserinphoenix  @lauv4chuuya @shadowfoxey @starlightanyaaa @sindela @kayleegomez @sunshine7queen @magalimachete @mokoartpost @gatitam @idontknow1123 @creative1writings @sanicsmut  @mynahx3

„Itadori!“ Nobara hisses through gritted teeth.

“Did you just see that?”

“What do you mean?”, Yuji remarks with doe-eyes, gazing up at her with no clue what she’s even talking about.

“That ring on Gojo-sensei’s finger, you idiot”, she barks back at him while frantically running to the door in order to catch one last glimpse at him.

“Is he by any chance married, Fushiguro?”

Megumi signs to himself, staring at Nobara in nothing but annoyance. That talk from last week where she literally forced you to describe Gojo still doesn’t sit right with him. Of course, Megumi knows about your relationship. After all, he’s been with both of you for many years now, witnessed countless times how Gojo caresses your cheek gently in the darkness of privacy, how he calls you “darling” around the house and passes out on the couch next to you 10 minutes into a movie. And even though both of you never talked about this whole marriage being private thing, Megumi simply refuses to talk about your love life – even with his friends.

“I have no idea. But maybe minding your own business will help with your complexion or something”, Megumi bites back.

All of the sudden, Nobara smacks the back of his head hard.

“Hey, that’s pretty mean, you don’t have to be so rough!” Yuji complains in an instant.

“Both of you, shut up. I will just ask him when he returns. Why wouldn’t he tell me?”

“There are actually a lot of reasons not to tell you…”

“SHUT YOUR MOUTH FUSHIGURO!”

“Huh, what’s going on here? I’ve been gone for a minute and you’re already smacking your heads?”

Casually, Satoru sits down behind is desk, long legs stretched out in front of him while nipping at the coffee you just made him. Oh, how much he loves to pay you a small visit during work. Just to be assured that you’re fine, that the second years don’t get on your nerves while training them. He just loves to adore you from afar. Yes, and the minute he gets home, you’re all his and his alone.

“You’re wearing a ring on your finger”, Nobara suddenly blurts out.

Satoru tils his head to the side, gaze wandering over his wedding ring. While he normally never wears it in fear of losing it during some stupid mission, today is your anniversary. The urge to proudly show off his ring became much greater than any anxiety. Also, today is a teaching only day and he’ll return home with you by his side after this lesson is over. The things he has planned for both of you tonight…He smirks to himself, joyful like a child when thinking about the surprise that’s waiting for you at home.

“Gojo-sensei!”

Megumi’s urgent voice rips him out of his daydreams.

“So what? A ring has many meanings”, Satoru replies calmly.

You never talked about this. While you seem to silently agree that showing each other affection at Jujutsu High isn’t what you want and that you are keen to keep your relationship private, you never talked this through. Last week when you described Satoru Gojo so well as your favourite type of men, you never said his name once, probably turned completely red when Yuji mentioned it so casually.

“Yeah, like being married for example!”

“Maybe I am, who knows?”

Satoru intertwines his fingers behind the back of his head, smirking at Nobara who is close to lose her mind widely.

“Maybe you should leave him alone…”, Yuji suggests in hushed tones.

“Maybe you should shut up, Itadori. This is far too important to let it slide!”

“You are way too dramatic about this.”, Megumi comments dryly.

“You guys just don’t understand the magic behind this!”

“So you want to know what this ring means?”

Nobara’s eyes light up in an instant, filled with so much unveiled curiosity that Gojo can’t help but wonder why she is never this invested when it comes to learning.

“Please tell me!”

Let’s see what happens.

“This is my wedding ring. I’m married to (y/n) for three years by now.”

Thick silence, utter speechlessness. The expression on Nobara’s face is so priceless that the urge inside Satoru to take a picture and show it to you later almost becomes unbearable.

“What’s up, Kugisaki? Did you see a ghost?”

“There’s no way in hell this is true”, Nobara mutters into Yuji’s ear, which earns a serious nod from the pink-haired boy.

Wait, what? Satoru furrows his eyebrows while gazing at the girl in front of him in disbelief. What did she just say?

“Why on earth couldn’t this be true, huh?”, he barks at her, hands clenched into fists.

“(y/n) is a real sweetheart with great taste. I just don’t think she would get involved with someone like you. Also, she said that she likes muscular man. And she never wore a ring”, Nobara explains briefly, earning a death stare from Satoru Gojo himself.

Both Yuji and Nobara eye him up and down, critical expression plastered on their faces while whispering unclear things into each other’s ear.

Satoru is on the brick of losing it. Did his students just suggest that you are too good for him? And that he’s not muscular!?

“I am muscular!”, he cries out.

“Megumi-chan, tell them I’m married to (y/n).”

If the ground would be able to swallow Megumi whole, he would take that offer in an instant. They already discussed this stupid matter for over 10 minutes now, when will the lesson finally start?

“Don’t drag me into this. Just do your job”, Megumi mumbles in annoyance.

Of course, Satoru is very aware of the fact that you are striking gorgeous, popular even beyond the boundaries of Jujutsu High. Damn, even here there might be some men who’d want you. But he is the strongest, he is good-looking, he is funny…Why on earth wouldn’t you be married to him?

“See? Nice try Gojo-sensei, but we don’t fall for your shit.”

He can’t believe his ears, face so red that Megumi slides back in his chair just in chase.

“You brats have absolutely no idea what love actually is! I won’t let you tell me who I’m married to or not!”, Satoru spits at his students, catching the attention of you.

Huh, what’s going on inside that classroom? You were on your way to grab some cursed weapons to show Maki, but the way your husband’s furious voice is heard through the entire hall makes you stop in front of his slightly opened door.

“Why are you screaming around here, Sir?”, you question, gazing at Nobara in confusion as she almost breaks down in tears from laughing her ass off.

“(y/n), darling, tell my students that you are my wife!”, Satoru demands.

Is that why he’s so stressed, because he wanted to tell his students that the both of you are married? What is going on here?

“I already told him multiple times we don’t believe him. Last week you said you like muscular man-“

“I AM MUSCULAR!”

You desperately try to hold back a laughter, the stressed out look on your husband’s face being enough to let a little giggle escape your lips. How on earth did that topic even pop up? Your gazer wanders to the wedding ring on his cramped finger, heart filling with warmth in an instant. Oh, he really wears it.

“Maybe he’s wearing that ring only for attention…”, Nobara whispers into Yuji’s ear.

“This is getting ridiculous”, Megumi comments.

“Why don’t we all just calm down a little? Your lesson started 15 minutes ago, why are you still arguing around?”, you playfully throw at your husband.

Despite the fact that you want to throw yourself in his arms right away, you keep your cool composure. This is what he gets for picking on you last week. You’ll make him suffer just the way he did it to you.

“You are supposed to help me with this!”, he complains.

“I am supposed to work right now”, you reply sweetly before turning on your heels and closing the door.

You can’t hold back any longer. Tears start to tickle in your eyes, that priceless look on his face. Oh god, you can’t stop laughing. This evening will definitely be entertaining.

-in the evening-

“Hello, stranger”, you playfully greet your husband as soon as he returns from work, blue orbs almost piercing through you.

“You are supposed to help me! Why didn’t they believe me? I’m I really that much of a downgrade compared to you?”

That little pout forming on his delicate face warms your heart in an instant.

“Maybe it’s better this way. I like to enjoy my time with you in privacy. Nice try though”, you playfully remark, your hands gently running through his soft white hair.

Suddenly he grabs your legs, pulling your body up in the air while all you can to is shriek and laugh out lough. He carries you into the bedroom, letting your body fall onto the soft mattress.

“I will make you pay for not helping me out today you traitor.”

“Then I’m happy to be a traitor.”

[holylulusworld]

Gun for hire (3)

Summary: You’re his next target. Nothing else. Right?

Pairing: Lloyd Hansen x fem!Reader

Warnings: hiring a killer, Lloyd being Lloyd, sunshine reader,

Gun for hire (2)

Gun for hire masterlist

You look out of the window, watching the city you know so well fade in the background. Lloyd guides the car out of town, and you fear, you missed your chance to run.

“Where are you taking me? Will you let me disappear somewhere out in the woods?”

He snorts. “Sunshine, if I wanted you dead, you’d lie six feet under in your garden, next to the loser your fine boyfriend sent to kill you.”

“Ex-boyfriend,” you pout. “After all he’s done, he’s my ex-boyfriend. Tommie is responsible for the poor man’s death. And now, you are going to kill me too.”

“Yeah, because you’re my assignment, not that douche’s, nor your boyfriend’s,” Lloyd slams his hands onto the steering wheel, almost losing control over the car as he looked at you for a split-second.

“So…you keep me around because you want to kill me?” You press on. It’s your life, and you want to know for how much longer you will breathe. “Why? This doesn’t make sense.”

“Rule number one, never question me, or my decisions,” Lloyd dips his head to glare at you. “Got it, sunshine?”

“Fine,” you wrinkle your nose and kick the headboard.

“No pouting or damaging my car,” he slaps his hand onto your thigh, squeezing hard. A warning to not mess with him. “You should be thankful I didn’t bury you next to that bastard.”

“What will you do now? Will you kill Tommie for not paying you?” You just can’t stop your mouth from running. You’re in a car with a man who makes money by killing people and you try to fall into an easy conversation with him. 

“If you don’t stop talking, I’ll kill you first,” he grins like the devil while glancing at you. “Aw, you lost your pretty smile, sunshine. I wonder why…”

Before you can stop yourself, you stick your tongue out. “You’re not nice.”

“I never said that I’m a nice guy, sweet cheeks,” Lloyd snaps at you. “Only because you love to hug people all the time, wear dresses looking like a three-year-old chose them and braid flowers in your hair doesn’t mean the rest of the world must be sugar-sweet too.”

“I-“ you purse your lips and inhale sharply. “You’re making it hard to like you, Lloyd. Why do you always make fun of other people? I’m nice because it is nice to be nice.”

“Christ, I got my middle school teacher in my car trying to teach me how to smile and be nice to girls,” he curls his upper lip, making his mustache look ever more ridiculous. “It’s nice to be nice.” He mimics your voice.

“You’re not nice.”

“You are annoying.”

“I hate your mustache, it looks awful. If not, you’d be an attractive man,” you snap at Lloyd, hating yourself for being mean. You cross your arms over your chest and look out of the window.

Lloyd presses his lips into a thin line. He huffs and tries to not let your words get to him. Lloyd wishes he could run his fingers over his mustache, but he must focus on driving the car to not end up dead.

He takes his time, recalling your words in his mind. Lloyd smirks and dips his head to glance at you. “So, you think I’m attractive?” 

Lloyd guides the car toward a secluded path. You press your nose against the window to get a better look at the house coming into sight.

No. This is not a house. You are living in a house. This is a mansion, surrounded by a huge fence. He slows the car down and presses a button on his phone to open the automatic driveway gate.

“Wow! Are you an Earl or something?” You gape when the house gets in sight. “I’ve never seen this kind of house outside of a magazine.”

“It’s a house,” he grunts. “You’re not here for sightseeing and to get comfortable. As soon as I talk to your ex-boyfriend, I’ll decide on…” He shrugs. “You know what happens then…”

You look away and press your lips into a thin line. If he wants to act like a meanie, you’ll not talk to him. The bullies in school gave up too when you ignored them.

All they wanted was attention, just like the man next to you.

“I said no pouting in my car,” he flashes you a smirk. Lloyd is more than happy that he was able to ruin your mood. “We are almost there, sunshine.”

He drives through the gate, a smug grin on his face while you angrily pursed your lips. That man made you angry, and you hate being angry. 

“You know, with that pout, you look kinda cute when mad,” he laughs when you make a face. “Ah, I will extinguish that sunshine in your eyes. I’ll be all too happy to make you even madder.”

Lloyd looks at the monitors while barking orders at the team he sent to get your ex-boyfriend. “Do we have sightings of the target yet?” 

“Target sighted,” one of his men answers. “He’s waiting at the agreed meeting point. What are our orders?”

“Get him. I want him alive,” Lloyd orders his men around. “That piece of shit believed he can fuck with Lloyd Hansen. He will get what he deserves. Let’s play a game.”

He leans back in his chair, crossing one leg over the other. His eyes glued to the monitors he smiles to himself. “Who gets me this man first will get a raise and one week off.”

His men storm toward your ex-boyfriend, barking orders at him. Tommie wets himself and falls to his knees. He knew it was a mistake to hire Lloyd Hansen, but he desperately wanted to give his new girlfriend all she ever dreamed of.

“Perfect ending,” Lloyd smirks in your direction when his men handcuff your ex-boyfriend. “What do you say, sunshine? Do we want to celebrate the successful hunt?”

You still refuse to talk to him. His comments and behavior made you mad, and you are angry at yourself for letting Lloyd Hansen get to you.

“Aw, come on. Give me a little smile,” he dips his head to look at you. “If you play your cards right, I let you watch me rough him up.”

You curl your lip. This man is the worst, and you can’t find it in you to be nice to him. Not after he shot someone in your kitchen and kidnapped you.

“No,” you huff and look away. “I don’t want to watch you hurt someone. I had to watch you kill that man in my kitchen. That’s enough violence for one day.”

Lloyd gets up from his chair to stalk toward you. He cups your face and smirks. 

“Sunshine, there is never enough violence when it comes to a piece of shit like your boyfriend…”

Part 4

Tags in reblog.

[werediabla]

teaching katsuki how to dance bachata.

tw // nsfw, sexual tension.

author’s note: as a latina, i just couldn’t get the concept of teaching him how to dance bachata out of my head 😩 iykyk. (i dropped a link if you don’t know what it looks like).

if ares ever dropped his sword from the heavens and lost it to the coil of the mortal world, you’re certain you’re staring right at it. there’s no other metaphor to describe the way katsuki moves; sharp, slick, and decisive — with the one-track intention to tear everything that stands between him and victory asunder.

you’ve never even openly admitted that he reminds you of some mythical weapon meant to be wielded by nothing less than the hand of a war god (not if you want to avoid the following protest of “huuh?! what the fuck are ya talkin’ about?! i’m the only great explosion murder god around here, damn you!”) but it’s true.

his physical prowess leaks out of every pore even where it doesn’t count.

like now, as you try to teach him how to follow the sensuous beat of your favorite bachata song, but he continues to move like he’s cutting through a damn battlefield rather than the dance floor.

“you’re stiff!” you huff for the fifth time, pausing the music to adjust his stance. “loosen your hips, kats.”

“that’s exactly what i’m fuckin’ doin’—“

“—feel what i’m doing and try to follow my lead, yeah?” you intercept. to his credit, he pays rapt attention to the way you let his knee melt between yours, keeping you anchored chest to chest as you roll your hips with that little bounce that’s been pissing him off since he agreed to go through with this.

well—

pissing him off might not be the right word for it.

it’s more frustrating than anything else. downright distracting. absolutely unfair. stupidly — hot.

“this ain’t workin’.” he blurts out, brows furrowed into that severe frown you’ve grown tender to.

“it’s because you’re overthinking it,” you reassure softly, continuing to break him into rhythm with gentle nudges meant to guide him into a steady beat. he picks up on it almost instantly, but the fluid motion of your hips is something he just can’t seem to replicate no matter how hard he tries.

“just grind. it’s a natural instinct between couples, why do you think the genre is so popular?”

that seems to snap something into perspective because the next four-steps, katsuki works you against his thigh like he was born and bred for it. it cuts your breath short as the two of you pace around the terrace, watching your shadows flicker under a canopy of fairylights.

“like this?” he asks gruffly, one arm curled around your lower spine and the other keeping your hand trapped in his. you can smell the faint traces of smoke and nitroglycerin clinging to his skin like this — it reminds you of fireworks in summer festivals, when the air is heady and sweet.

“yes.” you murmur more airily than you meant to, squealing when he lifts you into an improvised spin and sets you down far too slowly to fit the choreography. you practically glide down his front, letting him feel every inch of your body on the way down until you come face to face with him again.

for a moment, neither of you say anything. you’re too lost in the stillness of his scarlet gaze to break the impasse between you.

he puts an end to it when his lips capture yours with an irritated growl, feeding you slurred complains that sound suspiciously like “damn brat.” and “you’re so annoyin’.”

[twistedwonderlandimaginesblog]

Can I also request something similar chef!s/o who likes making them bento but with Riddle,Cater,Malleus,Ace, and Deuce? THANK YOU!! I LOVE YOUR BLOG

Ace Trappola: 

Ace will never deny free food, happily taking it when you offered it up to him. He doesn’t think that it’s a special thing until he makes fun of the little pathetic sandwich Deuce is eating, the scowl on Deuce’s face telling him that he should just be lucky that someone who was good in the kitchen had a thing for him. For Deuce to pick that up when Ace had never even considered leaves him a little flabbergasted but then he takes a look down at his food, his cheeks heating up as he thinks about it being specially made for him. He doesn’t know what to say or if you expect something from him in response, but you did notice he was much more nervous the next time you approached him.

Cater Diamond: 

The bento is so picture perfect that Cater can’t help but snap a few pics. He gets plenty of MagiCam comments from people complimenting how pretty the food looks, some others branching off to question whether Cater’s significant other had been the one to make it. He didn’t pay much attention to the post after it was up as he was too busy enjoying the lunch you made him, pleased that you added the perfect amount of spice to his meals. There’s no polite or smooth way to say ‘please make me lunch every day for the rest of our lives’ so Cater offers to be your taste tester anytime you were in the mood to cook. 

Deuce Spade: 

Deuce is a little stunned and thinks for half a second you might not be talking to him, but the strong eye contact as you hold out the bento to him tells him otherwise. He’s having a flurry of emotions rush through him as the only person who had ever made him lunch like this was his mother; he knew Ace would laugh in his face for that one but it was true. This was a special moment for him and he savored every bite, making sure to have a long list of compliments for you when he finally saw you again. There was a part of him that felt guilty as he wanted to do something like this for you, deciding to ask Trey if he could teach him how to make a return treat for you to enjoy.

Malleus Draconia: 

You don’t think you’ve ever seen Malleus smile so much, it was a cute expression that suited him much more than the intimidating aura that normally surrounded him. You were glad you were brave enough to strike up a friendship with Malleus to begin with, and now that you could just hand him presents like it was nothing… You felt some personal growth. Malleus would find anything you made for him delectable and ignored Sebek’s worries that it might be poisoned, trusting in you completely. After he finished the lunch he knew he had to plan a way to return the favor, not hearing it when you tell him no payback was necessary as you had cooked for him because you wanted to.

Riddle Rosehearts: 

Riddle is a little surprised to see a bento appear in front of him, especially one that catered to his specific taste. You had worked extra hard on making him lunch due to his harsh nature, knowing he would only appreciate a well-made meal. Even as he takes his first bite he’s still reeling that you made him something special, with his favorite foods and even a little dessert packed away safely in the corner. He’s completely overwhelmed with an unknown feeling in his chest and he can only mumble out his thanks, already considering what he can do to give you a proper thank you.

[livesincerely]

squirming outta my skin (i'm in love with you) ch.1 - prologue: one helluva first meeting

AKA, the cheerleading fic. Also on Ao3

00000

The team hasn’t even gotten through their first set of ladders before Albert sidles up to him, scowling darkly.

“Heads up,” he says, jerking his chin over towards the sidelines. “DeLancey’s fucking with the cheer team again.”

“Oh, for fuck’s sake,” Jack groans, turning away from the field to look. 

Sure enough, Oscar’s making a complete ass of himself as usual, leering creepily at the cheer squad while they try to warm up. Even as Jack watches, he lets out an obnoxious wolf whistle, reaching out to tug at one girl’s skirt, then laughing meanly when she darts away.

“Where’s Coach?” Jack asks, already exhausted.

“Hell if I know,” Albert grunts. “Enrichment meeting or some shit, probably.”

“Of course he is,” Jack sighs. He tears off his helmet, wiping the sweat from his brow. “Keep an eye on everyone, will ya?” he tells Albert. “I’ll handle Oscar.”

“Yeah, sure,” Albert says, clapping him on the back. “Good fucking luck, man.”

One of the other cheerleaders—a male cheerleader, who ushers his teammate behind him with a protective arm—is already chewing DeLancey out before Jack’s even made it halfway across the field, clearly furious. 

“—picking on freshman now?” Jack hears as he jogs over, the cheerleader’s tone utterly frigid. “That’s pretty pathetic, even for you, DeLancey.”

“Aw, don’t get your panties in such a twist, Jacobs. It’s just a joke, no harm done—“

“Oh, there’s gonna be some harm done when I kick your fucking teeth in you piece of shit⁠—”

“Hey!” Jack shouts as he approaches. “What the hell do you think you’re doing, DeLancey? You’re supposed to be running drills, not harassing the cheer team. Get back on the field.”

“This is your last warning, DeLancey,” the cheerleader—Jacobs—continues, not paying Jack a single whit of attention. “Keep your filthy hands to yourself and leave us alone.”

“Or, what, Jacobs?” DeLancey sneers, the prick, crossing his arms over his chest. “You gonna shake your pom poms at me?”

“Hey!” Jack cuts in firmly, because if he doesn’t, this Jacobs guy might actually tear DeLancey a new asshole. “Oscar, get back on the field. Now.” 

Jacobs glances towards him then, and for a split second, all Jack can think is blue. He’s got eyes like the summer sky, vivid and vibrant and vicious, made all the more striking by the dark curls that fall across his forehead and the angry flush blooming high in his cheeks. But his gaze only lingers for a moment, those piercing eyes swinging back towards DeLancey, who’s proving that he’s just as stupid as he looks by lingering instead of beating a hasty retreat.

“I’m not going to tell you again,” Jacobs says, his voice hard. “Because I can and will kick your ass up and down the fifty yard line if I have to, but I’d hate to embarrass you in front of your teammates.” He pins DeLancey with a look of incredible disdain, then amends, “Not that you need any help in that department.”

“Oh, yeah?” DeLancey says, taking an angry step forward, his face starting to turn an ugly shade of red. “I’d like to see you try.”

“No,” Jacobs says, with a smile that’s all teeth. “You really wouldn’t.”

“DeLancey!” Jack barks, absolutely fed up with Oscar’s bullshit. “I swear ta god, if you aren’t back on the field in the next twenty seconds, you’re gonna be warmin’ the bench during tomorrow’s game!”

It’s this threat that finally lands.

“What? You can’t do that!” DeLancey blusters. “You need me!”

“Because who doesn’t need a wide receiver that couldn’t catch a pass if it literally hit him in the back of the head,” Jacobs mutters pointedly.

“Shut the fuck up, Jacobs!” DeLancey snarls at him. “Prissy fucking bitch, getting all huffy over nothing! Why don’t you go back to your cartwheels and toe touches before I have to teach you a lesson—“

Jacobs’ expression goes flat. Then he hauls his arm back and drives his fist directly into DeLancey’s face. 

Oscar never even sees the hit coming—he falls flat on his ass, eyes watering as he cradles his nose.

“What was that, DeLancey?” Jacobs asks cooly, shaking out his hand. “The prissy fucking bitch didn’t quite hear you.”

“Holy shit,” Jack breathes, mouth agape.

“You⁠—! You stupid fucking⁠—!” DeLancey can’t even get the words out. Blood is trickling out one of his nostrils, the skin around it already starting to turn splotchy. “I’m gonna⁠—”

He staggers to his feet, fists up, ready to charge. 

“DeLancey.” Jack’s between the two of them in an instant, stopping Oscar in his tracks with a single, scathing look. “I said to get back on the fucking field.”

DeLancey gapes at him stupidly for a few seconds—Jacobs has clearly knocked a few brain cells out of him with that punch, and it’s not like he had that many to spare to begin with.

“You can’t just let him do this to me!” he finally sputters, like he ain’t the one that started all this shit in the first place. “What, just ‘cause some skirts got pissy over nothing? He’s just a cheerleader and I’m—“

“—already on thin fucking ice,” Jack says, voice hard. “I’m getting pretty tired of puttin’ up with your bullshit, Oscar, and once I tell him ‘bout this latest stunt, I’m pretty sure Coach will agree with me. So, you’re gonna wipe your face, stow the attitude, and get back on the green or I’m gonna drag you out there by the roots of your fuckin’ hair. Go.”

DeLancey throws him a sour, mutinous look, but finally, finally, does as he’s told, stomping off to locker rooms like the overgrown toddler he is.

“Asshole,” he mutters under his breath.

He turns to Jacobs, who stares back at him steadily, chin lifted. He’s still flexing his hand a little, the skin around his knuckles split in a couple places.

“So, uh,” Jack starts, hesitant in the face of Jacobs’ stony expression. “I’m real sorry ‘bout all that.”

“Uh huh,” Jacobs says, arching an unimpressed eyebrow. “Sure.”

“No, honest,” Jack insists. “It was about time someone knocked that smug look off his face… but it shouldn’t’ve had to come to that. Do you, uh,” he shifts his weight from one foot to the other, not sure what to do with himself. “Do you want some ice for your hand? That was one helluva left hook⁠— or, I could, um⁠—”

“I am just fine,” Jacobs interrupts, his tone biting. “So, please feel free to save the All-American, Boy Scout routine for someone who cares. If you really want to help⁠—” the look on his face makes his opinion on the quality of Jack’s help crystal clear, “—then you can make sure shitheads like Oscar DeLancey stay the hell away from my squad. And if he comes within spitting distance of one of my girls again, I’ll have his fucking dick in a vice.” 

A razor sharp smile. “So glad we had this talk.”

And with that, he marches away.

“Oh, fuck me,” Jack murmurs to himself, utterly enraptured as he watches him go. He’s real, real pretty and he’s real, real mean: Jack’s heart is already doing loop-de-loops around his chest, his skin buzzing with static. “‘M so fucked.”

[thebadgerclan]

NSFW Alphabet: Jesper Fahey

Requested by Anonymous

Smut!

A = Aftercare (what they’re like after sex)

I feel like Jesper almost has to teach himself to pay attention to you after sex, as bad as that sounds.  He’s used to one night stands where the other person cleans themselves up and goes, but now that he’s with you, he’s more than happy to take care of you.  Snacks, water, bath, whatever you want.  He’s also very cuddly, which is something he definitely missed when he was only doing one night stands

B = Body part (their favorite body part of theirs and also their partner’s)

Jesper likes his fingers: I mean....c’mon.  He keeps his pistols in pristine condition, so imagine what else he can do with those slender digits 👀👀.  On you, he LOVES your breasts, regardless of how big or small they are.  He loves using them as a pillow, squeezing and pinching them during sex, shamelessly looking at them whenever he can.  I also think he’s randomly just hold your breasts.  “Jes?”  “Yeah, love?”  “Why’re you holding my boobs?”  “Oh, sorry, love.”

C = Cum (anything to do with cum, basically)

Jesper’s a sucker for coming on your belly of thighs.  Getting to see his come on your skin just does it for him, and that usually leads to another round or two of sex

D = Dirty secret (pretty self explanatory, a dirty secret of theirs)

I feel like EVERYONE has said this about Jes, but fucking you with his guns.  They are ALWAYS unloaded, he would never take the risk of hurting you.  And I guarantee the next time he uses his guns he gets hard, right in the middle of the street

E = Experience (how experienced are they? do they know what they’re doing?)

Jesper Llewelyn Fahey knows what he’s doing, 100,000%.  He’s been with both men and women, he’s topped and bottomed, so really whatever you’re into, chances are he’s done it and knows what’s up.  And on the off chance he hasn’t done it, he’s more than willing to try

F = Favorite position (this goes without saying)

I feel like Jesper’s actually a big fan of missionary.  He can set the pace, he gets to see you under him, and looping back to the “C” headcanon, it’s the perfect position for him to cum on your belly or thighs.  The position also affords him the opportunity to kiss and suck at your neck, kiss you, press his face into your neck, etc.

G = Goofy (are they more serious in the moment? are they humorous? etc.)

I feel like Jesper’s actually pretty serious during sex.  He’s a very jokey, happy-go-lucky guy, but when it comes to fucking you, he’s more serious.  Whether it’s a “rough and hard” serious or a “tender and loving” serious, he saves his jokes for after

H = Hair (how well groomed are they? does the carpet match the drapes? etc.)

I think Jesper keeps himself au natural.  He doesn’t really care, but if it’s something that you’re not comfortable with, he’s willing to try trimming.  He shaved once, on a dare from Nina, never again 😂

I = Intimacy (how are they during the moment? the romantic aspect)

Jesper can be so stupidly romantic, it’s a little surprising.  If you want him to, he’ll pull out candles, roses, chocolates, the whole nine yards.  He’ll hold you close as he fucks you, whispering sweet nothings in your ear.  He made you cry once with how sweet he was being and had to pause because he thought he hurt you

J = Jack off (masturbation headcanon)

Jesper has a very high sex drive, so if you’re not around when he’s horny  (or you’re not in the mood), he’ll take care of himself.  Especially if there’s a job Kaz has him on that takes him away from you for multiple days, he will need to take care of himself

K = Kink (one or more of their kinks)

Jesper’s a tall guy, so I think he has a bit of a size kink.  Knowing that he could so easily overpower you really gets him going, but also that he can protect you, that he can sort of curl his body around yours when you sleep makes him feel all warm and fuzzy

L = Location (favorite places to do the do)

Anywhere you’re not likely to get caught.  The bedroom, bathroom, the couch in the common area when no one’s around, Jesper doesn’t care.  He isn’t afraid of getting caught, he’s more worried if you care.  And if you do, he’ll do whatever he can to make sure that doesn’t happen

M = Motivation (what turns them on, gets them going)

Seeing you wear his clothes.  There’s a possessive aspect of it that really turns him on

N = No (something they wouldn’t do, turn offs)

Jesper will not degrade you.  The thought of calling you a whore or a slut, even if it’s consensual, turns him off real fast.  He also won’t spank you beyond maybe a quick slap on your rear

O = Oral (preference in giving or receiving, skill, etc.)

Jesper has perfected the art of eating a woman out, and he is more than happy to do so whenever you want him to.  That being said, he’s a sucker (hah) for a good blowjob, and he’ll teach you exactly what he likes if you’re unsure of yourself

P = Pace (are they fast and rough? slow and sensual? etc.)

Most of the time, Jesper tends to go on the faster side, but he’s fast and sensual.  When he takes it slow, prepare for a night of countless orgasms and him praising the ever loving shit out of you

Q = Quickie (their opinions on quickies, how often, etc.)

Two words: hell.  yes.  Jesper LOVES a quickie, pulling you into the bathroom or a closet, fucking your brains out, and going about his day like nothing happened

R = Risk (are they game to experiment? do they take risks? etc.)

Jesper will try almost anything, as long as you also want to try it.  And you have to want to try it completely, or he won’t.  In terms of risks, that’s more of a no for him.  He won’t do anything to endanger your safety

S = Stamina (how many rounds can they go for? how long do they last?)

Heh.  Jesper once fucked you for 4 hours.  He’s one of the guys who can come and keep going, for as long as you want him to.  Whenever and wherever you want him, he’s sure to make it last

T = Toys (do they own toys? do they use them? on a partner or themselves?)

Jesper’s a Durast, so what better way to help train his powers that making toys for his girl?  He learned how to make a dildo that’s a cast of his cock, he figured out how to make a vibrator.  If you have something you want, don’t bother buying it, your man can MAKE it

U = Unfair (how much they like to tease)

Jesper can certainly tease, but most of the time, he doesn’t like to.  He’s very much a giver, and withholding pleasure from you almost takes pleasure away from him

V = Volume (how loud they are, what sounds they make, etc.)

Jesper’s a fairly quiet lover, and what sounds he does make are usually moaned directly into your ear.  You might be able to coax some more noises out of him, and if you do, just make sure you’re home alone

W = Wild card (a random headcanon for the character)

Jesper once came untouched from you sucking on his fingers.  He’s just fingered you, and before he could get a cloth to wipe his hand, you took his wrist and started sucking on his fingers.  And that did it for him

X = X-ray (let’s see what’s going on under those clothes)

I picture him at a solid 9-ish inches with a fairly average girth

Y = Yearning (how high is their sex drive?)

Extremelt high.  Jesper will fuck you when and wherever you want him to, just say the word.  

Z = Zzz (how quickly they fall asleep afterwards)

Jesper doesn’t sleep too well, but after sex, he’s out like a light.  Something about being sated and in your arms knocks him out

[digenerate-trash]

More head cannons that I have but for non-love interests. mostly teachers and Bailey and Harper. 

Bailey used to be a normal person who cared if the orphans got hurt but over time in order to keep the younger kids safe from the town he needed to start charging the older ones rent to keep this rinky-dink shack above water eventually it became too much for him to care about every victim he sent out onto the street to make rent so he stopped. Either by dissociation or worse. now he's just a heartless asshole who protects only the kids in the youth ward and even that is hard for him to do. The road to hell is paved with good intentions after all. 

Harper is afraid of blood. Straight up. He’ll faint if he catches sight of it that's why he prefers needles and brainwashing no blood is involved if you do it right. He's giving some real “I never got my doctorate” energy and I don't think this town cares because he's the best they have. He's definitely jacked off over an unaware patient. Has a kink for making patients cum hands-free (it's a power thing). Almost agreed to work for Remmy for free because he got too excited about brainwashing people into mindless cow hybrids. moral compass? Whos she? 

Leighton is such a fucking freak of nature. Would not be surprised if he went from teacher’s aid to head teacher solely through blackmail and other underhanded means this dud has always been a straight-up freak. Like Kylar but instead of being obsessed with one person, his passion is corrupting innocent people and once he's done and he's gotten off it's off to the next unsuspecting victim. This dude probably doesn’t know how to use a modern cellphone though so thank god for that. 

Sirris. Mommy? sorry. Mommy? sorry. I mean Mommy? Sorry. For real though giving milf energy. Probably really loved her dead husband to the point where she's not getting married again. (which is the real crime) but deeply cares for her kid, and even though she has no idea the extent of  Leighton’s abuse she has threatened to kill him and go to church the next day if he even breathes near her kid. Owns a sex shop purely to exploit this town's obvious sex addiction issue and is probably saving for Sydney's future as well. The only good parent I’ve seen in this game.  

River is a virgin for life. my man has never seen a pussy and is physically afraid of it. (same goes for cock but a little bit less so) has an avid believer of the church's teachings and he has a kind of friendship with Sydney but refuses to give them any special treatment because it wouldn't be fair (although Sydney is his favorite). Prob wear’s a chastity belt since he was 18 and has absolutely refused to take it off its like a security blanket now. No one is getting their filthy hands on this dick.

Doren is one of those freaks who has crushes on his students and sees nothing wrong with it, he cares about them and wants the best for his students but the power dynamic is hard to ignore for his students and even though he wants to be kind and a friend to all of them most students will avoid getting too friendly with him. He does his best to protect the students he likes best giving them snacks at lunch being extra patient with them during lessons helping them out or bumping up their grades just because they asked but if you’re a nuisance he lets you fall by the wayside because his love and care are conditional. 

Winter is heavy into costumes and BDSM but that's not a surprise super into weird sexual history and also has a huge denial/edging kink. Surprisingly the teacher she gets along best with is River. They hang out in the teacher's lounge and bitch about students. Leighton has absolutely harassed her for information on her students like which ones squirm during her unorthodox lessons but she refuses to play into his antics. When she's working at the museum she is the most content. It's her real passion but it doesn't pay the bills. Probably got hired because Leighton thought she would be an easy mark but it turns out she's a total dom and now he's afraid to fire her. 

Mason is the guy Dorent wishes he was. Students are always trying to feel him up during lesions and asking if he's single. But he really just wants to be left alone. At one point he was good enough to be on a national swim team but for one reason or another, his life fell apart and now he's burnt out and living in the worst town in Britain at the ripe age of 25. The dude probably wouldn't hurt a fly unless he had to and even then he would be crying for a week afterward. Bottom energy.

[one-vivid-judgment]

Hello! A request for Sawashiro, Takabe, Ebina and Kuwana - what would they do when their s/o calls or texts them in the middle of the night because of a frightful nightmare? Thanks!

Keeping the fluff mood going because I do be feeling soft lately 🤧🤧

Jo Sawashiro

He doesn’t pay attention to his phone at night. Honestly, he doesn’t even sleep that much either—he always stayed up very late to finish work, and even now that he’s not in the yakuza anymore, it’s a bad habit of his. Old habits do die hard. If the calls get very insistent though, he will pick up, out of annoyance more than anything.

He can’t stay annoyed for long though. After realizing it’s you, and that you’re breathing hard and almost crying, he knows something is up. His voice goes uncharacteristically soft, he tries to watch his words and not say anything out of pocket. If you ask him to go over, he’ll give in surprisingly easily. He’s not exactly great at providing verbal comfort, but he’ll hold you and run a hand through your hair, let you cry on his chest if you need to until you fall back asleep.

Mamoru Takabe

He always keeps his phone on at night, in case any of his boys need his assistance. He also makes it very clear that, if you ever need him, you don’t need to worry about bothering him or waking him up, just call. Takabe is as reliable as they come: he will pick up, he has always picked up before.

Never will he let it show that he’s tired when you call in the middle of the night. You need help and someone to talk to, he’s not about to make it about himself. Talk and he will listen; if you don’t wanna talk about the nightmare, then he’ll tell you to talk about your day. Meanwhile, you know he’s getting ready to come over. You also know it’s useless to tell him not to come over and that you don’t want to be a bother: he will just say that’s nonsense and drop by your place anyway. With your favorite snacks and ready to make you some warm tea and sleep next to you for the rest of the night.

Masataka Ebina

Honestly, he doesn’t want anyone to disturb him at night. And yes, he will ignore even you. He turns his phone off at night and calls it a day, and no one can contact him until the next day. He does forget to turn it off sometimes, and whoever was unfortunate enough to call him then got yelled at so badly they never tried to contact Ebina again after hours.

On one of those nights where he forgot to turn off his phone and you called him, he ignored it the first time. The second, he started getting ticked off, but continued ignoring it. It wasn’t until the third call that he picked up. He doesn’t yell at you, but his voice and the weary sigh make it obvious that he wants to go back to sleep right away. But he stops being so dismissive when he notices you’re having trouble breathing. After that, he does feel bad, so he lets you talk as much as you want—he’s not about to get dressed and come over, but he’ll stay on the phone the whole time even after you fall back asleep and until the morning after.

Jin Kuwana

Every call he gets at night is between the caller and God, honestly. This man loves his sleep too much. The one big exception though, is you. He knows you never call this late unless you’re either, incredibly horny or having trouble sleeping, and both of those, he can help you with. In any case, he only picks up after midnight when the call is yours.

He mastered the art of comforting people back in his teaching days, when he had students to take care of day in, day out. First, he calms you down with the softest voice he can muster. Then, he asks if you want to tell him about the nightmare, and if you don’t, he’ll do the talking. Nothing too deep, just random things about his day, what he ate today, how he needs to clean his apartment, if you’ll be down to help him. After he’s mostly taken your mind off things, he’ll ask if you want him to come over. If you say yes, he will hold you for the rest of the night and whisper sweet nothings until you fall asleep.

[arrowofcarnations]

O’Knutzy Week Day Two let's gooo

Posting a day late because *gestures vaguely* life, but it's here! It's happening!

Leo, Finn and Logan belong to @lumosinlove <3 Written for @oknutzyweek2023 <3

Day 2: Cooking Mishaps (A2)

Dear Mama and Dad,

I’ve officially been in the UK for a month, but it feels like longer. It is SO fucking cold. Hogwarts is amazing, but there aren’t enough heating charms in the world to make me like November up here. Can you send another quilt for the bed? One of the super warm ones Nana makes?

I WON THE FIRST TASK! Even Kasey said he couldn’t have done it any better. (You know how he’s student-teaching? He actually got to come here as one of the chaperones. I’ve got other friends here too, but it’s nice to see him every day again. It’s kind of like before he graduated, except he can give detentions now, haha)

I know y’all always tell me don’t go borrowing trouble, but the tournament is intense, and the second task has nothing to do with the first one. It helps to go into it with the most points, but that doesn’t mean I’m gonna win or even come second next time. Doesn’t help that I have no idea what it’ll be, so no idea how to prepare. All we have are the golden eggs from the first task, and we haven’t figured out how to open them to see the next clue yet.

We meaning me, Logan and Finn. You know how I said we agreed to a truce and were gonna help each other get through the year? I think we’re actually real friends now. We’ve been meeting up most nights (yes I’m still doing my homework) and Finn’s been showing us all the best secret spots in the castle. Although honestly, we just end up in the kitchens most of the time, making tea or sandwiches or whatever. I’ve even cooked a little. Had a few mishaps because sometimes I forget everything’s in metric, but I made some chicken & rice soup last night that was pretty good. Finn said he’d pay me to make it again if he gets sick, and Logan had seconds even though he usually just wants sweet stuff at night.

Some people are kinda pissed at me for being so friendly with them because they’re "the competition" (same thing for Finn and Lo), but they don’t get how hard it would be if we didn’t have each other’s backs. All the prep on top of school is a lot, and there’s crazy pressure to win from everyone, even the teachers. We’re still all playing to win, but it’s nice not to be alone. And I actually like them, like outside of all this. You can meet them when you come here to watch the third task in April. Maybe they can come visit this summer?

I really miss you. And Mama’s food. And the animals. And being WARM. But I’m good, so don’t worry. Kermit’s liking it too, I think, but I have to keep him away from Finn’s owl. There’s no truce in their future.

Love,

Leo

•

Cher Maman et Papa,

Je vais bien. Je travaille dur pour gagner la prochaine tâche. Simone mange trop de tartes au poisson et ronfle dans mon oreille la nuit.

Je t'embrasse,

Logan

[thelastofharrington]

you’re the one that i want (pt 2)

pt 1!!

an: hi!! here’s part 2!! this is my first time writing slowburn anything lol so feedback is greatly appreciated! (posting on my phone again so sorry about any weird formatting!)

warnings/tags: eventual smut in later parts, king!steve, friends to strangers to lover, loosely grease inspired, this is gonna be fun

wc: 1.2k

You spent all of your homeroom in shock. Steve Harrington, your Stevie, is an asshole. “King Steve” they apparently call him now. Known for parties, womanizing, and overdrinking. He had a whole host of cronies he hung out with too, apparently. They traveled in a pack and it was almost impossible to get to him without getting through his laggies first. Complete delinquents, according to Nancy. 

You couldn’t believe this. Sure, nine years had passed, but you knew him at one point. At one point, you knew him better than anyone else. Maybe you were delusional to think that some things never change, it’s not like you thought you would pick up where you left off, but you never imagined that he’d be so far out of your grasp. 

You turn around at the feeling of Nancy tapping you on the shoulder and passing you a note. 

 “Forget about him!!!” It says. 

You sigh and write back: “It just doesn’t make any sense!”

She rolls her eyes and starts to write again, “What part of rich basketball playing douche bag is hard to understand?”

You turn around and shrug at her, a look of defeat on your face. She sighs again and make sure that Mrs. Peters isn’t paying attention before saying, “Look, I know he was your best friend, but that was nine years ago. Things are different now. He’s changed, you’ve changed, it will be for the best if you just move on.” She takes one more look at Mrs. Peters before continuing, “Men are rats. Worse than that, they’re the fleas on rats. You’re better off without him.”

Before you could respond, the bell rings. Nancy gives you one last sympathetic smile before heading off to her next class while you’re off to biology with Mr. Kaminsky. Nancy said his classes are ridiculously hard, but you’re up for the challenge. 

You walk in and take a seat at a lab stool near the front of the class. As the passing period approaches its end, the class fills up. It fills up to the point where every seat is nearly taken, besides the one directly next to you. You’re feeling self conscious as you look around and realize everyone is staring and whispering. You know that you’re new and that Hawkins is small, but is this really the response you’re going to be getting all day? You did not sign up to be the newest social pariah of Hawkins High. 

The bell rings and your lab partner is still missing. You’re fantasizing about a lonely year of dissections as Mr. Kamisnky drones on about lab safety when there’s a knock on the door. He rolls his eyes and groans before opening the door. Nothing could have prepared you for what was on the other side.  

“You’re late, Harrington.” Mr. Kaminsky scolds flatly before turning back to teach the class. 

And there he was, looking like a movie character leaning up against the doorframe. Cigarette behind the ear, arms crossed, backpack nowhere in sight. He was in tight light wash jeans, a tight polo tee, with perfectly coiffed hair. He was almost just like you remember, but with an aura that did not match the sweet boy you once knew on swing sets and ice cream truck pursuits. 

“Sorry Mr. K, I just didn’t want to come.” He saunters into the room, nodding at a few of the kids at the back of the class who were all trying to keep their laughter under wraps. The smile he flashed them was the only thing about his current appearance that did ring true. That smile was something you knew well.

“Lucky you, Steve, you get a front row seat for the semester since you finally decided to grace us with your presence,” Mr. Kaminsky says, gesturing towards the empty seat next to yours.

It’s at the point where Steve acknowledges you for the first time. You notice the smallest falter in his step as you make eye contact, his gaze zeroing in on you. It felt like a lifetime from the time between him stepping into the class to this moment right here, the moment you had been waiting for. 

He covered up the falter in his step easily and broke the spell he had cast on you by turning back to your teacher, “Thanks, Mr. K. You know I wouldn’t accept anything less than the best seat in the house.” He slides onto the stool next to you, practically ignoring that you’re there. 

But you know he recognized you, you just know it. You could tell by the way his eyes widened for a millisecond, the falter of his feet against the aging linoleum floor. For a moment his guard was down, for a moment he was your Stevie, but then he was gone. Then, he was just a stranger on the lab stool next to you. 

You tried to fight the feelings of loss all over again as Mr. Kaminsky starts your lesson. Normally, you’re a great student. Normally, you’d have your eyes glued and ears on high alert for this lesson, but instead you’re fighting every fiber in your being not to look to your right where Steve sat. Doing everything you can not to reach out and touch him, just to make sure it was really him. You were doing so much of this muscling through the lesson, you almost missed what Mr. Kaminsky had to say about your midterm project. 

“I know you guys are probably lightyears away from thinking about your midterm projects, but I don’t want you guys to waste too much time, so we’re going to go ahead and get our partners today.”

There is a loud groan amongst the class, including Steve. You see him look to you out of the corner of your eye when he does it, as if he’s gauging your reaction. You swear you see him straighten up and brush his annoyance off with a cough when he notices you aren’t in agreement. 

Mr. Kaminsky waves everyone down at the front of the class, silencing the herd of annoyed teenagers. “Yeah, yeah, you’ll thank me later when you’re not knee deep in thesis statements and dioramas. And just to make it easier on me, and probably to the delight of you guys, your partner is the person you’re sitting next to. Congratulations, don’t make me regret it.” And, with that, he turns around and writes today’s chapter information up on the board.

You’re sure he’s droning on about anatomy or earthquakes or whatever it is you learn in twelfth grade science, you really can’t remember because there’s two dark brown eyes peering into the side of your skull so intensely you’re sure they’re scanning your brain for your deepest, darkest secrets. After a solid minute of this, you grow brave enough to turn your head and look back. 

You are about to whisper something to him when he raises a hand and stops you. Your breath is caught in your throat at the size of his hand so close to your face. Close enough to reach out and touch, if you were careless and stupid that is. 

“We’ll talk later.” He pauses long enough to make you think that’s the end of it before he says, “We have a lot to catch up, don’t we?”

tag list: @luna-munson83

[otherpeoplesheartachept-2]

Day 20: Fangs

Lamb pays the NowNext a visit, Braden really isn’t interested in hearing another lecture from Vegas’ king.

or, I make two vampires homoerotically argue for 900 words lol

(thanks to @aroace-genderfluid-sheep​ for inspiring this fic by talking abt Lamden, I never would have thought of them as a pair)

Length: 900 words

Warnings: guns, though none are fired.

Read on AO3 or below :))

“You’ve converted too many, Braden. I’m starting to think you forgot our last conversation,” I say as I walk in to the NowNext leader’s gray, too bright office. He’s got four armed men, in their navy blue faux-military uniforms standing at the corners of the room.

“I’m starting to think you’ve forgotten exactly how much power you hold here, Lamb,” he says from his desk, sounding defensive. “Let me remind you: in San Diego I am king.”

“As vampires we must-” Braden rolls his eyes at the word vampire, as if it’s beneath him. I switch tactics. “One of yours went rouge. He killed at least a dozen people before we found him. That concerns your little cult as much as the wider vampire community.”

“Fine,” he waves his hand dismissively. “Bring Johnson back and he’ll be dealt with.”

“It’s obvious you don’t know how to deal with these things; it’s been taken care of already.”

“What do you want then? You’re going to make me bury the body?”

I shudder at the thought. I don’t kill our own kind, unless it’s absolutely necessary. Even then it weighs on my heart.

“No, we’re teaching him how to properly be a vampire. This is what I’m talking about: you don’t know how to handle these things.”

“Just because I don’t follow your bullshit traditions doesn’t mean I can’t control my own operations here!” Braden bursts.

“These ‘bullshit traditions’ have kept us alive and thriving for millennia before you were even a single gamete in your mother’s womb. We-”

“That’s enough preaching for one day, Lamb!” he interrupts me.

Braden turns to one of the men in the room. “Show the king back to his castle, please.” He’s plastered an unconvincing smile on his face.

Braden’s goon approaches me but I’m faster than him. Before he reaches me, I’ve spun him around and have my fangs against his neck. Blood pumps just under the thin skin protecting his jugular. I won’t bite of course, it’s simply a threat. Braden needs to know that I could.

The other three have their guns pointed at me now.

“Our conversation isn’t finished.” I look Braden in the eyes. The man in my arms struggles but he won’t make it out of my grasp.

“You are on my turf,” Braden says firmly, standing from his desk.

“You won’t have any turf, any devoted followers, or any sterile mansions if you don’t get your vampires under control, Braden.”

“Fine, you’ve made your point,” he huffs.

“I fear that I haven’t.” He thinks he’s above me, but he knows nothing. He doesn’t understand how hard I’ve worked to keep our kind safe.

Braden snaps his fingers, and the other men approach me.

“Gentlemen,” I smile, and they can’t resist what I ask next, “let us have a moment alone, will you?”

It’s difficult thralling other vampires, especially four at once, but I can manage it. I let the one in my arms free, and Braden’s men make their way out the door, into the hallway. I lock the door behind them for good measure.

Braden glares at me. Then he lunges.

His attack takes me by surprise. He’s got me trapped against the cold wall but I don’t let that last.

I spin us and slam Braden against the grey concrete. His heart-rate quickens. He struggles against me, but I manage to hold my own, despite what the thralling took out of me.

“You forget that I’ve had to hunt to survive,” I breathe against the coolness of Braden’s neck. “You are a toddler drinking from juice boxes. Let me teach you to be one of us.” It’s a speech I’ve delivered a dozen times to no avail, but part of me still hopes one day he’ll listen.

When we first met, I had thought, I had hoped… it’s foolish now, thinking of it. It’s obvious he was only using me for information, and a way to reach immortality. I was blinded by his sweet talk and enthusiasm. But still, Braden has so much potential, he—we, together—could be so much more, but he’s too foolish and arrogant to see that.  

“We are nothing like you, Lamb,” Braden spits in my face.

“The fangs filling your mouth say otherwise.” I pull back slightly, lifting his upper lip with my thumb to reveal them. They’ve dropped in his anger and fear. I’d almost forgotten the scent of a frightened victim is nearly as sweet as that of a pleasured one.

Braden tries to push me off but I stay close.

“Darling, you know you could be so much more if you listened to me,” I hold his chin so I can look into his steel blue eyes. “You know you want to give in to those urges a sterilized blood infusion simply can’t fulfill.”

“You do not know me, At All,” he grunts. He’s seething with rage but he knows what I’ve said is true, though he loathes to admit it, even to himself.

I smile.

He shoves me away.

“Stop Turning the entirety of Silicon Valley, Braden,” I command. “And as always, my doors will be open when you change your mind.”

I lean in and place a kiss on his cheek. Braden blushes furiously.

He starts yelling about treaties, and me barging in, and whatever else, but I’m already on my way out of the room.

[darklydeliciousdesires]

Beyond the Blood Tie - Chapter Eleven.

Huge thanks to those who are following this and interacting! I appreciate you all so much! 

Previous Chapters - One  Two, Part One Part Two  Three  Four  Five  Six  Seven  Eight  Nine  Ten

Words - 5,173

Tag list - In the comments. Please DM to be added/removed

Warnings - 18+ content throughout. Minors DNI!

Edie's POV

"So, you wanted to know what it's like when you're first made vampire," Angel begins, while I flick a switch inside to turn on the many little outside lights I strung up around the creeper that grows over the awning overhanging my small patio. I wrapped them around the vines, and they look really pretty. In case you hadn't noticed, I like things that sparkle.

"If you wouldn't mind," I request, sitting down in the large, wooden chair opposite him, quickly taking a happy glance at my now beautiful back yard, feeling proud I actually put the effort in. I have mown grass, flower filled beds and some nice furniture, too. Come pay day, I'm building a barbecue. No gas grills for me.

"The first thing you notice is that you don't exactly feel like you any longer, you feel very far removed from who you were, and that’s simply because you're dead. It takes substantial time for you to find yourself again, and even longer to find your humanity. You've also got to get used to the blood cravings, the fact that when you’re hungry, you can easily drain someone as a baby vampire. Ursula had to teach me everything I know, she had to show me not so much how to be a vampire, but how to behave as one. You suddenly go from having ethics and morals, to having none, or rather adapting a different set. Not seeing daylight was hard for both EZ and myself for a long time too, as we both love the sun, but the blood diet you get used to almost instantly, that's part of the natural change," he explains for me, while I sit nodding and smoking, hanging on his every word. This is fascinating.

"Do you ever miss being human, or doing the things you liked most as a human that you can't do as a vampire?" is my next question.

"No, I don't. I very much enjoy being a vampire; the only thing I really miss is the daylight. The things I like most I can still do, like be creative, being social, and having lots of sex.” A slight smirk crosses his lips at that last statement. Without really consciously thinking it, I suddenly remember how good his hands felt on the back of my neck, imagining where else on my body they'd feel good, before slapping myself mentally. I can't go there, and really, why would I even want to? No, no, no, Edie. You cannot suddenly start to come round to the fact vampires aren't quite as sexually repellent as you thought, not with this one, at least. Yet the thought of him, though, being wrapped around me… well, I like it. As much as I don't want to, I do. Shhh, don't you dare go telling anyone. Especially not Aileen, you and me both know she'll never let me live it down.

Angel looks at me curiously for a moment, cocking his head slightly. “Why is your heart racing?”

Fuck. Of course, he can hear it. “I’m just excited! I love learning about things, I’m having a really good time.”  

His eyebrows flutter. “Hmm.” I’m not sure he believes me, but he doesn’t question it further. He just stares at me for a few moments before speaking again. "You've gone quiet all of a sudden, so therefore I think it's time for me to ask you a few questions. Do you mind me asking about your mother?" Angel says, after I've been lost in thinking about his hands wandering to certain places when I really shouldn't have been. I'm glad he's mentioned her, though, because there's nothing like thinking about that tramp of a woman to quell my desire.

"No, go ahead.” I'm okay with talking about her with those I trust with it. I know I don't know him well, but I just know I can trust him. Everything changed in that one moment in my chamber, when he finally got the truth out of me.

"What did you do after you found her dead? Was your father around at the time?"

"My father wasn't my real father, I suspect. That sums up the reason why I got beat by my mom. It was because he beat her and she took it out on me. I assume that was her reason anyway, because I wasn't his kid and he gave her hell for it. Anyway, he basically came in about fifteen minutes after I found her and told me he was done with us and left. I waited until the police came, told them I'd found her like that and said I wanted nothing to do with anything relating to her body or funeral at all, and then I packed my stuff and left. I lived on friends' couches, sleeping rough when I couldn't, got into a lot of trouble and ended up like you were, strung up for a punishing in the CD. That's what I did after she died, in a nutshell," I tell him.

"It's a shame for both of them that they, well one at least, produced such a remarkable daughter and they didn't even appreciate her," Angel replies, while I light another cigarette.

"What is it about me that you find so remarkable? Apart from the fact you say I'm strong.” It gives me a little feeling of a happy jump in my chest, when he compliments me.

"Well, there's that, you have both great mental and physical strength, you're determined and unyielding in character and in your work, and you use that anger your mother left you with in such a contained way that you must be remarkable. Humans seldom have that strength of character, and being blood tied to you for a short time showed me that. I felt it in you, the unwavering strength. Yet you're a humble girl. You make no song and dance of your bad childhood, and you just get on with your life. I find that admirable," he explains.

"A lot of kids had it a lot worse than me, and have done since the disaster. Back then I don't suppose children had proper childhoods. At least I had Vic, he was the guy who taught me to box. He took me in for a while too after my mom died, but I moved on quickly because I didn't want to trouble him. I was going through a nomadic phase as well. I just get on with life because it's the only one I'll have, and I can't dwell on the past. Even though I know I kept the contents of her suicide note festering away for long enough, and I imagine I'm beating her sometimes when I'm working, I don't feel troubled by it at all," I say, watching him smile a little at me. I also notice that even though my eyes may wander around, his never leave mine.

"Good, because too many humans use that kind of thing as a crutch, something to use as an excuse for whatever failing they've suffered or similar," he begins, before changing the subject drastically. "So, why no boyfriend?"  

"I'm enjoying the single life. I have been for two years now since I split up with my ex, Sarah. Yeah, I swing both ways," I reply, laughing when I see the predictably wide grin on his face.

"Yeah, I remember you saying before,” he begins quietly, shaking his head. “I'm sorry to be so typically male, but I like that. Hmmm, I think I like it too much, in fact. If only cold showers worked on me. I'd be asking to use yours right about now if they did," he then confesses, making me laugh even harder.

"I really don't know what to say to that," I laugh a little awkwardly, taking a deep breath and a swig of coffee to compose myself again. I then get a mental flash of what he might look like, naked and wet. Edie, stop!

"I think maybe nothing at all, until I've cleared my head of the certain mental pictures it currently contains.” He laughs quietly through his nose, while I just shake my head and feel a teensy bit embarrassed. Not over my sexuality, because I'm not ashamed about it, but more over whatever he's imagining right now. Then again, I'm just as bad. I was just picturing him nude in the shower, after all.

"So, are you single right now?" I ask, after a few moments.

His response is immediate and very steadfast. "Yes, and I plan on staying that way. The idea of monogamy does nothing for me, unless I met someone worthy of it, but I cannot see that happening.”

"I don't blame you. Relationships are hard work, I much prefer being single.”

"Do you ever get lonely?" he then asks.

"Sometimes I do,” I confess with a shrug, “but not that often. What about you?”

"No, I don't, not really. I miss the warmth of a human next to me sometimes, though. Companionship is something vampires seldom seek. We're just wired differently to humans. Well, some humans, since the one I'm sitting in front of right now has the same point of view as me," he tells me with a small smile.

"Not forever, I won't. I'd like to settle with someone someday, just not any time soon. I watch my friends Sasha and Miley, and sometimes it's like they're in a rush to find 'the one' and I often wonder if I'm strange, for not worrying about it at all.” It does make me feel like I might be weird when I compare my lack of desire to settle to that of their driving force to do just that.

"I never did when I was human either." he shrugs. After that, the subject moves on and we talk more about me. He asks me what interests me away from my job, and I fill him in over how I like to spend my spare time. I tell him such things as my dedication to my fitness, but that my diet could probably be improved upon. I also talk about my passion for finding old things and upcycling them. The two wooden chairs we're sitting in now are only new to me. They'd been thrown out by the woman five houses up, all covered in moss and mud with broken fixings. I asked her if I could take them and she said yes before helping me carry them home.  I sanded them both down, and then went to the hardware store and brought some new fixings and a tin of wood stain, changing them to the nice, deep mahogany colour they now are. They were pine before. I also tell him of the books I read, how I love to learn and detail the old music that I listen to.

The Western music scene is only just picking itself up again, and it's very different to how it was before. I like some of the new music of this day and age, but I prefer many of the artists pre-disaster. I sit and tell him a whole lot, in fact. All the way through he remains quiet while I talk, only asking the occasional question here and there, or adding his own opinion or belief on what I mention. He looks so thoughtful when I speak, though, so full of thought that it surprises me he can concentrate fully on what I'm saying, but he does.

"Edie, I have to ask you. You don't consider yourself to be particularly bright, do you? It's something I've picked up on several times, more through the way you sometimes speak of yourself than anything," he asks, leaning forward a little in his seat.

"Neither do you, consider me to be bright, that is. I'm not busting your balls over it, but you did call me stupid. Several times," I reply, but not harshly because I don't want him to think I'm mad about it. "And you meant it, when you said it." I then swiftly add, just before he's about to speak.

"You're no Einstein, but after hearing everything I've just heard, I want to know why you still estimate yourself even lower than that. You really aren't as stupid as you think you are, and I was wrong to call you that. In fact, you're not stupid at all.” I smile at him before looking down at the floor, a little embarrassed at the compliment. I don't really take them too well when people are talking about my intellectual savvy, or lack of it as I always think. Still, I liked it, just as before when he complimented me.

"I like to associate myself with smarter people than me, like Ahmed and Sasha, and Aileen is a very clever lady as well," I explain, while stifling a yawn.

"Aileen looks at you like a daughter, you know. I could tell in her voice when she came into the chamber, just how much she cares about you," Angel tells me, while I pull a face.

"Nah, I mean we're friends and I know she does care about us all, we're a good team down there at the CD. She likes to mother people in her own way, but she's got enough kids of her own to look at me like I'm one of 'em too," I reply, watching him shake his head.

"She does, believe me. I know. I'm also going to have to leave you now, the dawn is approaching rapidly," he laments, while getting up. I do the same, glancing inside at my giant wall clock, seeing its 4am. Wow, those last two hours in his company passed quickly.

"So, until you randomly pop up again," I tell him in parting gesture.

"Why don't you pop up in my world, but not so randomly? I have two free hours because of a cancellation next Saturday night from 9pm, come down to the shop and I'll cover that mess on your back with something much more fitting for the beauty it's etched upon," he tells me, giving me that look that makes me feels his eyes are looking right through me. Internally I shiver, and I really don't like it. There's something almost hypnotic about him.

"If I manage to find something I like in time, I'll be there," I reply.

"Come anyway, I have a heap of flash art and I have to do a line drawing of whatever you want first anyway, so you tell me an idea and I'll draw it. Or if you think of anything in the meantime, call me. I'm there between 9pm and 1am, except on Sunday. Until next week, Miss B." I’m handed a dark blue business card with the tattoo shop details on it, Angel looking at me very intently for a few seconds. I feel like someone is pulling all the air from my lungs, staring back into the dark chocolate pools of his eyes. I blink, and it’s in that blink that he's gone. The breath I let out is massive, and I didn't even realise I was holding it. There's something about him that's very enticing, but even if I did want him, I have to firmly remind myself I could never have him.

Well, I could, if I was willing to die for it. Rest assured it is very safe for me to say I'm not. But oh, if I could. I think I would, you know. I don't know what's wrong with me. I've never been attracted to a vampire before, but after spending those two hours with him this evening, I dunno, it was something more than just the fact he's good looking. It's like there's this sparkle in the air when we talk, we seem to get along really well. I really don't get it, why him when no other vampire does it for me? Maybe I'm just tired and need to take a long sleep, and then I'll wake up perhaps thinking in less of a crazy way. Yeah, that's got to be it.

Angel's POV

"Are you staying down here, or coming up?" I ask the two alert looking faces of Thor and Icarus, who are waiting for me on porch of our home. I like this house purely because of how old it is. It was built in 1930, the year Charles and Ursula bought it upon moving here. They haven't stayed here the entire time between then and now, but this has always been their home base.  

The wolves immediately turn and run into the house, down the hallway towards the stairs while I lock and bolt both doors and draw the long curtains over the front door. There are glass panels either side where the light needs to be blocked.

"Alright, just for a little while.” I tell my wolves when they jump onto my bed after I've got in it. "You both smell, I need to attack you with shampoo and a hose." I then add as I scratch their faces and have them lick my hands, their bushy tails beating off the covers loudly. They're very happy boys, these two. I do notice that they haven't been quite the same since their sisters died, though. If only I'd have got to that motherfucking human a second quicker and grabbed that gun, they'd have lived. I cannot think like that, though. They're gone, and there's nothing I can do about it. I don't like situations where there is nothing I can do about the outcome. I have another one right now, too, the fact I want Edie and I can't have her. It's starting to prickle me a little.

Earlier on when I massaged her neck and shoulders, I had to fight an almost blinding urge to let my hands slip down to her tits, and then further down still. Even earlier than that when I saw her walking past the bar I was in, seeing how she was dressed made me think just what every other vampire who saw her would have thought; that I wanted to fuck her so hard, she wouldn't even be able to sit up, let alone walk. That's why I joined her literally as soon as I saw her, because vampires can be very predatory when they see something they like the look of.  

If you as a vampire tell another vampire that the human they desire is yours, then they have to back off. Many vampires have their own humans, people who love to associate themselves with my kind for whatever we want them for. Feeding and fucking are the top two, as you'd imagine. Or they work as daylight gofers, doing things for their vampire that he or she cannot do in the daytime. What I'd give to feed on and fuck Edie, preferably at the same time. That thought makes a highly aroused shudder run right through me, closing my eyes and imagining it for a few moments, a few moments more than I can stand.

Telling the wolves to get down I turn over onto my front and press my face into the pillow, grumbling with annoyance. Why the hell can't I control myself with anything with a heartbeat? I miss the sensation of hot flesh more than you could imagine. Turning my head to the side but remaining lying on my front, I close my eyes, the need for rest taking over as the sun begins to rise. Just as my thoughts start to blur to nothing and sleep takes hold though, something moving against me disturbs the process. At first I think it's one of the wolves jumping up on the bed, until I realise what moved against me is under the covers. I then feel a hand on my shoulder, and turn my head to see Edie lying there next to me, just as naked as I.

"Hi," she whispers, smiling as her hand moves to stroke my cheek.

"What are you doing here?" I exclaim, reaching out and moving a strand of hair from her face.

"Going to sleep next to you, so be quiet." She replies, making me laugh a little as I put my arms around her and she rests her head against my chest. It feels so real, yet I know it's just the working of my imagination, the fabrication we call dreams. When I close my eyes and then open them suddenly, I find myself alone and awake. I'm not awake for long, through, tiredness pulling me back in quickly, into a sleep that contains no further dreams. I know that having a very small dream of her going to sleep next to me more reflects the fact that I miss a warm body beside me than anything else, but when I can't seem to shake Edie from my thoughts the next evening when I awake, I wonder whether it could allude to more.  

Am I bothering with, feeling drawn to and being this nice to her because I just want her as a friend, or is it because I'm also attracted to her and I can't help it? I never have such complications usually, I'm simplistic and straightforward, I use logic and good common sense to analyse situations. This one is odd, because I've never felt such draw to a human before. Me being attracted to her doesn't come into it when I look at it like that, yet it is a factor I now know I cannot ignore. One thing I can't ignore right now is the fact that I have two sets of yellow eyes both staring at me from the door, giving me the 'we want to go out, get your ass up' look.

"Alright, let me get some jeans on, at least," I mutter Icarus and Thor pacing in circles and whining as soon as I throw the covers off myself and get out of bed. I can hear the usual noises of sexual abandon coming from EZ's room as I pass by with my wolves, grumbling to myself in a pissed off way, as ever. He definitely enjoys rubbing salt in my wounds with it, his capability to sustain sexual relations with humans when I can't.

"Evening, Angel," our housekeeper Maggie tells me as she's walking up the stairs and I'm coming down, resting her laundry basket down and stroking the wolves as they trundle down the stairs past her. She's a human woman of about sixty, and has known Ursula since she was a little girl.

"Hi, Maggie. Is there anything clean of mine in there?" I inquire, gesturing to the basket.

"Yes, that dark grey one near the top of the pile is yours. I shall leave the rest by your door, as always." Taking out the plain, deep grey t shirt from the pile and handing it to me, I thank her and leave her to her work, pulling the t shirt on and my boots at the door, heading out with my wolves for a walk. It makes me laugh the way Ursula refuses to do laundry and housework, she's always been the same. I don't mind washing my own clothes, but she seems to think it's beneath her. Then again, when she was human it was her job as the female of the house to do all the washing, cooking and everything else.  

Her parents died of disease when she was young, and so as the eldest child of twelve, she was the one left responsible for them. This is why she never married or had children of her own as a human, she was too busy effectively being the mother of her own siblings, and then was turned at thirty years of age. I don't blame her for not wanting to be a maid to us, too. It is here that I strangely begin to think about Edie's mother, and wonder what kind of a mother she was to her other than beating her. I wonder if Edie had to virtually look after herself as she grew up. I think she probably did. I then come to a stop and think a little longer on an idea I just had, and then decide to put it into action. Half an hour later and me and the wolves are waiting at the doorstep of a certain young lady with pale lilac hair.

"Twice in one weekend, well aren't I just the lucky girl?” Edie announces when she opens her front door to me at a little past 9pm.

"My wolves and I were wondering if you'd like to come for a walk," I propose, smiling down at Icarus and Thor, who look like they're waiting for attention to be lavished upon them. They don't wait long, Edie soon crouching to their level and letting them sniff her hands before beginning to stroke them. I trained them well, they're very people friendly with the ones they know they should be friendly to.

"And here was me thinking the next time I'd see you, you'd be putting me through vast amounts of pain with an inky needle. I'd love to, let me just put some sneakers on," she replies, before ducking around the other side of her front door and pulling out a pair of black sneakers she slips her feet into, taking her keys and locking up.  

"Sunday is a quiet day for me. Little to nothing to do since the shop is closed, the bars are all quiet and I'm not really all that social anyway, except with my own small circle. I usually just spend my Sunday's reading or walking with these two, so I thought I'd act on impulse and visit you. It seems my presence isn't unwanted either, since you didn't tell me to fuck off.” She laughs, nudging me softly with her elbow.  

"No, of course it isn't. I like being in your company, and I have to say I don't feel freaked out by you any longer either. You vampires, you have this void inside you that I and a few others I know can pick up on. I can feel the deadness in your kind and usually, I don't like it, but it's different with you now," she explains, making me very curious.

"How is it different? Because you know I'm not a threat to you?"  

"No, it isn't that. Well, I know you're not a threat to me, but that deadness I can feel within you actually makes me feel peaceful now rather than freaked out," she replies with a sideways glance at me. No makeup, her hair a little messy, a t shirt two sizes too big for her and a simple pair of shorts, and she still looks hot. If I could dive on her right now, I would.

"I'm glad that my presence no longer scares you. Wait, sit," I say to her first, and then my wolves as we come to the edge of a busy main road, Thor and Icarus both sitting down immediately and waiting patiently.

"Wow, they're so well behaved," she compliments as we cross when the traffic clears.

"I trained them well." If only I could train my own mind to be so obedient. I need to stop imagining what my new friend here looks like naked, I really do. 'She's a friend, who you just so happen to find attractive. You shall not let this drive you crazy' I staunchly tell myself as we walk. The whole reason I came to see her today was to begin further convincing myself I can handle being around her without wanting her on any other level than friendship. I'm struggling with every step, though, as I will no doubt continue to. She's getting under my skin, this girl. I like her for the obvious things I can name, and I like her just because I like her, too. I cannot explain it with any more certainty than that. It sparks a memory within me though, because it reminds me how I felt when I first met Luisa.

Had there been no disaster, had everyone lived, I would have married the mother of my son, should she have wanted to. I did ask her once, but her response was to flee. That, I don’t blame her for, she went through a hell of a lot. After her return with our son, Maverick, though, she seemed to settle, put away a lot of the trauma she went through as a result of her penance from leading Los Olvidados. When I first met her, apart from being attracted to how strong she was, just I am with Edie, I noticed that there was something about her, just her in herself that I was so pulled in by, yet I couldn't put my finger on it. Again, I feel much the same about Edie, and that's a scary thought. It's scary because with my homicidal sexual streak aside, I never planned on getting as close to another human (or vampire for that matter) as I was to Luisa ever again.

Apparently, a long time before Charles, Ursula had a human lover, one she was with for forty-nine years before he died after falling from his horse. She said it took her decades to get over the loss of Philippe, the human man she once loved. We vampires are very capable of love, and when we do, we love hugely. I'm not saying Edie is the kind of human I could fall in love with, or am I? Is that why I get so spooked out about this thing, this something about her, because the only other woman I've felt like that about was the love of my life?  

I know this is all very soon after getting to know her away from the confides of the CD, but I know that feeling I have inside, because I've only ever had it once before. Either way, I can't even let myself find out, because I don't plan on Edie dying, and if I act on anything like that then that is exactly what'll happen. But of course, I'm blowing this massively out of proportion, because Edie doesn't even want me in that way.  

“If we head up this way and turn right at the next crossroads, we can take them up to the park. Nice and open, they can run up to the rocky hills at the top and howl at the moon,” she points, linking her arm through mine. On impulse, I unlink and place it around her shoulders instead, hers moving to wrap around my waist, smiling at me sweetly.  

It all feels so fucking easy with her, and yet, it’s the furthest thing from it. Women. They’re just as much of a complicated subject for me in my death as they were in my life.  

[seepy-sucker]

Warning: Long amount of text following due to being on mobile. No read more option

Steve’s parents are angry with him after the events of the first season. How dare he muss up the Harrington's name, fighting and losing to that nasty little Byers boy, and walking to Byers' house later that night, and to top it off, he'd seen an opportunity to sever the continuation of the contract with the Hagan family and taken it.

Steve's dad beats the shit out of while his mom looks in like it’s the best she can do. It's loud enough that neighbors, who spent Steve's childhood ignoring signs of abuse and neglect, actually called the police. Hopper arrives and suddenly Steve's father is handcuffed. Steve was also taken in, but he was allowed to sit in the front with Hopper, and by the end of the night Mr. Harrington was freed into care of his wife.

Steve tried to lie to Hopper, but almost immediately gave up when the Chief sighed at him, calling him "son", and turned quickly to tell Steve's father his options. Possibility A: You can be charged with assault, sedition, and child neglect, ruining the reputation of the Harrington name even if the charges don’t stay, or Option B: Steve receives an estate, a home and trust fund, and a monthly check until he turns 18. At this point, Mr. Harrington had stopped spitting words at Steve. Without hesitation, the man takes option B and does as instructed as soon as he exits the station.

Steve’s parents leave town around a week after the whole ordeal, with nothing but a soaring glance and harsh word for their son. Steve settles into the now empty house— trying to pretend everything’s alright— especially near the kids, whom he’s just gotten used to. Joyce and Hopper are the only two in the party who know his parents have left, and both adults insist on helping in some way.

Hopper teaches him to take care of the property he currently owns; Steve refused to hire people, fear losing money hitting hard, so he learned how to mow the lawn, rake the leaves, and make sure the plumbing and electricity were working properly. Joyce teaches him to take care of his finances: how to budget, how to save, how to make smart investment decisions and even to know how much money he’d be spending on a shopping trip.

By the beginning of season two Steve is almost entirely working on his own but shit nearly hits the fan when he shuffles by one Jonathan Byers in the grocery store. Both boys freeze and slowly make their way around each other with curt nods. Later on Jonathan asks Joyce if she knows why Steve is doing his own shopping. Joyce replies with the truth, not really paying attention as she hustles around the house and Jonathan nearly face plants when the whole story finally falls into the air. Over the next few weeks Jonathan and Steve keep meeting each other in odd places, Jonathan always waves a timid hello and Steve replies with a small smile and nod.

The first time something interesting happens is when Jonathan ‘accidentally” makes too much food for their family, and instead of tossing it in the fridge to go bad, he drags himself to his car and drives over to Steve’s house. Steve answers the door with his eyes closed and heavy sigh with the words “I swear I’m making food Hopper” hanging in the air. Jonathan clears his throat and Steve finally looks at him, tired smirk freezing on his face.

Jonathan ends up seated at Steve’s extremely messy table with his hands full of food. Steve tries to refuse, but Byers’ don’t give up and Jonathan leaves the house with a shout of “You’d better eat all that!” as he leaves. Steve somehow manages to understand that if he doesn’t eat it all then Jonathan will know. So he eats.

The next day after school Jonathan is rapping his fingers on the Harrington’s door again and Steve opens it. His hello is wary, voice filled with hesitation. Jonathan just stares at him before pushing his way past the older, cleaning supplies grasped neatly between his lengthy fingers.

Steve blinks and then trails after him. “What’re you doing?” The brunet asks. Jonathan looks up, shaking the cleaning spray at him slowly, “this place is a mess, so we’re cleaning it” the teen announces. Steve blinks again as Jonathan pulls his short hair into a knot on the top of his head.

“Cmon. This house won’t clean itself you know,” Jonathan presses, throwing a rubber band towards Steve with an exasperated huff. Steve stares at it belatedly, finally attempting to tie his hair into a knot, but failing pitifully. Jonathan huffs again, ducking his head beneath the upstretched arms to pluck the band from Steve’s fingers. The taller pulled Steve’s hair into his hand and put into a small pony tail.

Steve pulled back slightly as Jonathan attempted to tighten the small bun. Jonathan raised an eyebrow judgmentally before he took the window spray and pushed it into Steve’s hands. “Windows, Harrington”

Steve trails after Jonathan like a lost puppy for the first half of a month. Once a full month has passed Steve puts his own hair into tiny ponytails and dances in the kitchen to candle lit music. Jonathan sways along with the teen he now calls friend.

Nancy doesn’t know. Nancy doesn’t know? Steve chokes on the soup Jonathan had nearly decapitated him with. Jonathan nods absently, seemingly unbothered by this notion as he tilts the bowl back against his lips. “But what if she figures out and is mad at you?” is Steve’s question.

Jonathan lifts a lazy eyebrow, judgment painted on his face easily. Steve returns the look, it’s a near replica of Joyce’s. Jonathan shivers and looks down with a huff, “Fine I’ll inform her, that means you’ve got to listen Will go on about his newest character this time”

Steve nods easily, hair flopping into his face as he finishes the soup. He likes listening to his pseudo-sibling talk. Jonathan flicks him between the eyes, yanking him down onto the couch to watch the next movie of their marathon with a yawn.

Yeah, Steve could get used to this.

[astralithium]

Don’t mind me, this is just a long collection of thoughts as I attempt to troubleshoot my biggest writing block right now: Mario.

Because right now, the point I’ve posted up to in the Trustfall AU? His brain is absolute mush. And I can’t say I blame him! He’s officially a Dad now, to the most wide eyed, fluffy, adorable, brilliant prodigy on two worlds! He’s ecstatic!

A few hours later, though, what that all means will hit him so hard, he won’t be able to breathe.

He’s a protector at heart. He’s spent his life defending his brother, saving his princess, protecting his home. But somehow, I think it would feel different, when the person you need to protect at all costs is an eight year old, who has an IQ higher than yours ever will be, and still somehow looks up to you.

I wonder, what designs are running through his head right now? How does he plan on teaching his kid Italian? Is it worth it trying to childproof the labs somehow, knowing Tails could just crack right through all of his safeguards? What does he already have planned for Tails’s next birthday, which happens just a few short days after his own?

He won’t sleep well for a good few weeks, I know that. He’ll be too busy worrying, planning.

At the same time though, what are the moments that make all that fear and aching worry worth it? How often does he look at his self appointed son and his brother—one cleverly working with his hands, and the other relaxing in the sun—and just think to himself, god, it’s worth it, it’s worth it?

(As far as his native tongue goes, I think he just starts talking in Italian more and more often around Sonic and Tails. Tails is curious enough to constantly ask what he’s saying, and then start using that language in conversation. Sonic’s just good at picking up other languages just from listening to context, so it isn’t long before they’re all trading barbs in both English and Italian.)

Further:

At this moment in the Trustfall AU, he is not a prince. Not a consort, either—merely a fiancé to the Princess of the Mushroom Kingdom. He’s not expecting anything to change after he’s married. Certainty doesn’t want the title, the responsibility, or all that weight in his chest. (My dad once told me that he wanted the highest paying job with the least amount of responsibility; somehow, that feels like Mario to me.)

But Mario’s the type of guy to devote himself entirely to the people he loves. And he does see, better than probably anyone, how much Peach’s responsibilities weigh on her. Wouldn’t the protector in him want to help, however he can? I like to think he’d try.

He believes the things he can do with his hands are his greatest strength. However, by this point, there’s nothing more he can physically make for her. He’s replaced every chair she sits in with something meant for her comfort. He’s redesigned every piece of furniture and wall decoration he can get his hands on. Her office is littered with the trinkets he’s made and brought for her from every corner of the world. She wears a bracelet he made for her, every wooden bead carved by hand. What more can his hands offer her?

So he decides to reshape himself. He gives her his mind, and tries to make himself into something he’s not. He tries to be the consort. Studies law and economics day and night for something he knows he was never meant for, just for the sake of easing her burdens even just a little.

You can’t hide your true self for long, though. He’s scared of the responsibility, of letting it consume him. He fears he will never be enough. In any other universe, he might have been able to hide those realities behind his devotion to Peach for a time. But his time doing so is cut woefully short in the Trustfall AU, solely because he has so much else to worry about.

(The ironic reality is, Peach didn’t choose him for his ability to be a consort—she can handle the crown on her own, and she knows it. She chose him because she loved him, because he made her feel safe. He’s enough, just as himself. She only put a crown on his head so that the whole world knows it. She could never ask anything more of him than he’s able to give.)

[romantic-reveries]

Forever feeling like I’m being an overdramatic baby, even when people validate my feelings. I STILL feel like I’m making a big deal out of nothing at work, even though my grandma said in all her years working, she’s never been so disrespected in a work place except for one time when they WANTED her gone because they were corrupt and she was onto them.

Even when my partner who has been the sales manager here for almost twenty years tells me “no, that’s what they’re like and they’ve chased plenty of people away because of it.”

So the manager yelled at me. So what.

But it’s not really even that she yelled at me. It’s what she said.

She said I interrupt them all the time — as if I’m just interrupting them when they’re busy for superfluous reasons. As if I’m that kind of person. And that I argue with her when she corrects me, which she’s literally never done, except ONE time when I asked them to validate my hours, because they’d closed two hours early and told me to write in 6 on my time card, which would’ve given me about half hour of overtime.

Except it was a Wednesday, when we normally close at 5. And they never, ever give me that hour, even though they’re closing to go to church, which isn’t my problem, and they should pay me 40 hours anyway. It’s not even the pay—it’s the principle.

Anyway, I thought he was just being nice, so adding the two hours plus what I actually was there for that week put me into overtime, which would’ve been an extra $13 for the 40 hours, and another probably like, $9 for the overtime. A whole whopping $22 bucks. I wrote it in on my time card, which means when they sent it, they had to go out of their way to just tell them to give me 40.

And when I asked about it, she told me that I must’ve just misunderstood her husband, which flew all over me. I didn’t — him forgetting we usually only work until 5 on Wednesdays or him misspeaking is not me misunderstanding. And maybe that was a petty thing to be mad over, but it’s stupid. It was nine fucking dollars extra. Just give it to me. I would’ve been here if THEY had been.

So I disagreed. I didn’t misunderstand, that’s what he SAID. That’s the ONLY time she’s ever even remotely “corrected” me was telling me I misunderstood and me “arguing” back.

So for her to jump down my throat about how I’m always interrupting them when they’re busy and “it’s rude” and arguing when I’m corrected as if I’m this rude, insolent person just made me so so mad and uncomfortable. If that’s how she sees me, then why would I stay here? That’s probably the worst way you could insult me. I had a whole identity crisis over it.

And then they had the audacity to ask if I’d stay three weeks instead of two because they’re going on vacation — a rude person wouldn’t do you a favor. But I agreed, because that’s who I am.

And THEN, they invited back the girl who worked here and left a few months before I was hired. And she’s being hired as full-time sales, when they chose to introduce me to sales and then relegate me to only overflow because I “needed more training”, but she doesn’t remember fucking ANYTHING from her time here (less than a year since she left!!) and has had to ask ME for help???? And the manager even had me teach her how to run financing???? Yet *I* didn’t know enough to be on the sales floor full time?? HA.

So now I’m like, I should just not come next week. The new girl and their son can handle it. Initially it was just going to be him and I, so what’s the difference? She missed it here so much, she’s sooo happy to be back, she’s already taking clients—let her learn.

But then I hear the boss on the phone with his mom this morning, “okey dokey, love you mom,” and I remember that they’re just people. But that doesn’t make them less selfish or greedy. And then, I don’t know—perception is hard. Maybe their perception of things isn’t the same as mine, I’m sure they have their reasons, etc etc, but still. They haven’t been fair to me, and I haven’t been comfortable since I started a couple months after I started working here.

And then I think maybe I’m the problem. Maybe my perception was negatively coloring all of this. Which is why I was able to brush it off, I guess, until she yelled at me. There’s no twisting that—it is what it is. She was mean for no reason.

She’s not quite accused me, but been worried a couple of times that I was poaching her son’s clients, which is also super insulting because I wouldn’t do that. And I wanted to give her the benefit of the doubt and assume she’s used to larger locations with more salespeople and maybe that happens. But still.

I don’t know. I hate how quick I am to doubt my own reality instead of just feeling how I feel and knowing I’m right. But it’s the fact that I AM like that that makes it so frustrating that she insinuated I was rude and argumentative and a friend recently implied that I shift blame when she brings things up with me (which she never even has??) so again I’m like—is it me? Am I fucking crazy? Because I don’t think so. I’m super self-aware and conscientious to a fault. I know when I’m wrong or I’ve been rude and I freely admit it and apologize. I’m human, and I’m sure I have blind spots, but I can’t imagine those things being among them.