#i’m rambling about this kid first thing in the morning lol

[accio-victuuri]

i’ve been seeing a lot of mention about yibo’s dances on SDC going viral on douyin like this compilation. with the recently finished season, there are a lot of posts doing the opening number or parts of his b-boy routine. he truly is the king of douyin when it comes to influencing people. most artists go viral because they are already famous to begin with. there is nothing wrong with that cause that’s how these platforms work — but there is something about non-fans who see yibo and are inspired to dance too.

we can talk all day about stats and rankings. about how famous and relevant yibo is but tbh focusing on that ( to me ) is missing the point. what stands out to me is yibo has achieved what he always wanted to. that is for people to view street dance as something positive. for regular people to find the joy that he did with dancing too. he doesn’t need to be on a show like SDC. he’s got too much on his plate already at the time of filming but he pushed through because it is close to his heart. if you watched this season, you might notice how he says it over and over again to the contestants : don’t stop dancing, don’t stop learning, compete outside of china, have fun dancing, open up to people, get yourself out there on the international stage. Yibo’s passion for dance is more than him showing off — he said it himself, before he just wanted to compete and win. be an OG street dance personality but he doesn’t feel that way now. he didn’t explain what he meant by that but i guess it shows in what he’s doing in SDC. My absolute favorite part in the viral covers tho are the ones done by workers, those who do manual labor like in construction. it shows them on break and just dancing. This truly brings to life the “Just Dance, Have Fun” message in YBO’s post. Or what Yibo said, “It's fine to dance anywhere in the world.” 🤍

[vauxxy]

SECOND THAT

luke castellan x reader

★ “i’m restless, i’m wrestling with the song that you love, it’s been stuck in my head”

ABOUT - luke castellan is the only one at camp who sees right through your perfect and poised persona; and all he wants is the satisfaction of ruining it.

WARNINGS - smut, mentions of choking, both the reader and luke are TERRIBLE but luke is much worse lol, swearing, written from the perspective of a deranged luke, penetration, only loosely proofread.

A/N- i have NEVER written and posted smut before EVER. like i get close but i never go all out. so… no hate guys 😘 also i feel like this is a bit ooc for luke so just pretend he’s actually insane and terrible guys!!! if you ignore his incoherent ramblings, it’s PWOP sooo… anyways this might be the first and last time i ever write smut who knows

luke castellan is no amateur when it comes to pretending to be something else. growing up, the only thing that mattered to luke was receiving praise or recognition for being ‘great’ or ‘honourable’ or whatever.

when you live your whole life pretending to be a perfect person, you kinda start to believe you really are a perfect person.

and if everyone you meet also believes you are indeed a perfect person, what’s the harm in continuing to pretend?

at the end of the day, both parties gain something. you get the validation and acclaim that you truly deserve, and they get a role model they aspire to at least halfway resemble.

luke is the sweetest guy at camp- everyone loves him. and he deserves it, doesn’t he? he deserves their praise and love and respect. gods, he should be rewarded for pretending to be so admirable for so long. he’s entitled to it.

you, on the other hand? you don’t. you don’t deserve an ounce of the praise luke has worked so hard to receive.

to luke, you’re vermin. behind your polite smiles and sweet words, there’s darkness. there’s an evil lurking within you- he’s sure of it.

he sees it during early morning sparring sessions, watching from the wings while you tactfully dodge every attack that comes your way. and when you eventually falter, he sees how your eyes turn cold and your smile fades.

he sees how you take a shaky breath, brushing yourself off with your bony hands before flashing a toothy grin. he feels nauseous when you extend your arm out to shake the hand of your opponent- because how the fuck can they believe your little act?

your gentle kindness and bashful charisma is so obviously fake. of course, he’s not pissed that you’re acting; everyone at camp is acting to an extent. but you’re going all out, and he can still see through it. what pisses him off, is that nobody else seems to recognise how truly malicious you can be.

maybe it’s because you’re pretty. luke is no stranger to getting special treatment based on his appearance, and neither should you be. maybe that’s the whole basis of your appeal. it seems to be the only thing holding your pathetic little facade together, considering your sloppy acting skills.

if you were ugly everyone would be able to call out your bullshit straight away, and then he wouldn’t have to worry about sharing the spotlight. honestly, the only reason why everyone loves you so much is because half of them want to fuck you, and the other half want your attention or approval- not that it’d be worth anything.

it was the last week of spring, meaning only the year-rounders and a few of the older kids were at camp. you just graduated high school, and arrived at camp early.

of course, you just had to return to camp prettier, taller, more confident, and with a fancy college acceptance letter. maybe you were much smarter than you let on- but it became very apparent that your intelligence wasn’t the reason you got accepted into NYU once he learned what you were studying.

“oh, i’m getting a degree in art history,”

seriously? art history? that’s gotta be the funniest thing luke has ever heard in his entire life.

“really? why art history?” he asks politely, watching your every move as he awaits your dumbass explanation.

you shrug cheerfully, looking around at the few other campers scattered around in a tight-knit circle as they wait for you to tell them about your ‘lovely’ 18th birthday and ‘eventful’ senior year.

“i don’t know, my mum works with a lot of artists, so she said it’d be a good conversation starter,” you say cheerfully, as if it wasn’t the stupidest thing to ever exit your mouth.

luke can’t help but let out a little giggle, before instantly lowering his head to offer some non-verbal apology. but to his surprise, you laugh along. “yeah, i really wanna score a job at the MET or something. i don’t mind either way,”

luke nods politely, letting the conversation continue without interrupting with a snide comment or unsolicited laughter.

he plays along as the conversation continues, pretending he doesn’t want to grab you by the throat and push you against the wall, demanding you to confess. demanding you to tell the fucking truth; that you’re a manipulative sycophant who’s bound to end up in rehab for getting addicted to designer drugs.

why is he the only one that sees you for who you truly are? gods, if he knew any better he might be charmed. you were naturally picturesque- or at least you seemed to be. the way that you were sitting on the grass with your hair draping over your body; you looked gorgeous. but you always look gorgeous, that’s your best quality after all.

of course all of camp half-blood was fooled- you were to pretty and kind to be lying. maybe it was better to let them keep on believing that you were this perfect image of a girl.

but he’d still appreciate the satisfaction of seeing you for who you are- seeing you in your rawest form.

and then suddenly, he saw it. some athena girl asked you if you wanted to go on a run with her later, to which you politely declined. of course, you kept your composure, told her that you had to take a nap, offered her a sympathetic smile and a ‘maybe next time’. but she didn’t see the way your eyes rolled to the back of your head as soon as she looked away.

luke was astonished. you really were getting sloppy, huh?

and yet, nobody else saw it. nobody else saw the look of disgust on your face as soon as she finished talking. he was seething- how on earth could everyone be so blind?

luke looks around at the group of people surrounding him, his eyes darting back to you ever 5 or 10 seconds. they all look at you with awe- as if you’re the most precious thing on earth.

fuck that. he was going to put you in your place.

a few hours pass, and it was finally time for everyone to walk back to their cabins.

luke spots you walking alone to your cabin, your face dimly lit by the moon as it shines over the camp. he’s so overwhelmed with anger, he couldn’t fathom caring about the consequences of whatever situation he was about to put himself in.

he quickly catches up to you, meeting your walking pace as he shoots you a friendly smile.

“hey, y/n. you got a minute?” luke asks, still adorning that charming smile. you smile back at him, nodding your head ever so gently, as if it would fall off if you moved it too fast. like a rusty elvis bobble head bought 1976 that resides on the dash of your grandmother’s busted car.

“yeah, why?” you hold your hands behind your back as you walk beside him, slowly approaching your empty cabin. luke shrugs his shoulders. “oh, i just had a little question. mind if we talk in your cabin?” he asks.

you nod, opening the door for luke and letting him walk through. you close the door behind him, before leaning your back against the wall. luke stands in front of you, his cheery demeanour vanishing as he crosses his arms.

“why the fuck are you such a little bitch all the time?”

you furrow your brows, mirroring his posture as you cross your arms defensively. “excuse me?”

luke rolls his eyes, letting out dry laughter as he looks you up and down. “you heard me,” he adds, watching you anxiously begin to pick at your lips with your freshly manicured fingernails.

“do you have a problem with me or something?” your whole body feels tense as you continue picking at your lips, your eyes locked onto his.

“yeah, i do have a problem. i’m tired of your little ‘nice girl’ act. it’s getting fucking annoying,” luke scoffed, taking a step closer towards you. your eyes darken, before shaking away your hostile expression.

“are you sure you wanna do this right now, castellan?”

“is that a threat?”

you pull your fingertips away from your lips, shifting your weight to the other side of your body as you cross your arms once more. you let silence fill the room before finally speaking up.

“listen, luke. everyone pretends to be someone they’re not. you and i just tend to do it more than others-“

luke cuts your off, taking another step forwards. “fuck off, we are not the same.”

you roll your eyes, banging your head against the wall as you groan irritably. “so what? are you gonna go around spreading cheap lies about me now?” you ask tiredly. luke shakes his head, slightly shrugging his shoulders.

“nah.” he replies curtly, his voice blunt and expression vague. “mkay, then what the fuck is your problem?”

luke takes another quick step forward, tightly holding your chin in his hand as he lifts your head to face him. “you’re my fucking problem.”

you let out a dry laugh, staring into his eyes as you attempt to intimidate him. “you’re such a loser.” you whisper, refusing to fight back against the way he’s gripping your face.

he stays silent, biting his lip as he looks over your form. “and you’re a brat.” he retorts.

“are we just going to keep throwing insults back and forth all night, or are you gonna explain why you’re so obsessed with me?” you ask playfully, cupping his face in your hand as an attempt to patronise him.

luke is stumped. to be fair, he is entirely obsessed with you. and he has been for years now. and now he has you cornered, watching your weak attempts at asserting dominance over him.

luke was over it.

suddenly, luke leans in, harshly pressing his lips against yours. you retract your hand from his face, pressing it against the wall as you feel his body moving towards you.

he wraps his other hand around your neck, only gently gripping it as to not alarm you.

luke is surprised by how you sink into his grip, pulling away to see your closed eyes and swollen lips. when you wipe your mouth and look at him with those hauntingly innocent eyes, he’s almost fooled.

you scoff, smirking as you tear away from his grip and take a few steps back. “is that all you wanted?” you say confidently, watching him turn around to watch you carefully pace around the room.

he shakes his head, groaning quietly as he walks over to you once more.

luke purses his lips, trying to suppress any sense of genuine attraction to you. but when his eyes gaze over to your red lips and flushed cheeks, he can’t help but let his mind wander.

“if you’re done, you can leave, castellan.” you say irritably, leaning against your bed frame.

it goes straight to his dick when you call him that, especially when your voice sounds so hoarse and cocky. he feels as though he’s finally accomplished what he’s been yearning to do for years now. he’s seeing the real you.

he couldn’t dare squander this opportunity now.

he pushes you down onto your bed, watching how your hair flows over your newly made bedsheets as your head hits the pillow.

“but you don’t want me to leave, do you?” luke says lowly, hovering over your body as his hand hold your wrists together above your head.

“i don’t care what you do, castellan.”

luke groans, pressing another rough kiss against your lips. you kiss back for whatever reason, and your firsts relax within his grip. it was almost as if you got off on the idea of someone calling out your bullshit. or maybe you got off on the idea of somewhat hating your guts. either way, luke knew you were more than eager to continue.

he let go of your wrists, before biting your bottom lip. your mouth opens slightly, offering entry to his tongue, deepening the kiss.

you hand cups his face, while the other grips his shoulder. after a few moments, he pulls away and begins sucking at the skin of your neck, leaving purple marks on your delicate skin while you let out hoarse whimpers.

his hands begin to fiddle with the fabric of your shirt, causing you to push his body forwards as you position yourself to sit on his lap. you take off your shirt, throwing it away as you run your hands down his back.

luke looks down at your chest, growing more aroused at the sight of your lacy little bra. it’s as if you knew someone was going to see it.

you feel a hardness growing from under his jeans, poking against your upper thigh as you slowly grind against his lap. luke let’s put a low moan, continuing to bury his face in your neck.

“i fucking hate you,” he growls, gripping the sides of your waist with his hands as you move against him.

“don’t care, take off your shirt,” you demand hurriedly, running your fingers through his hair as you tilt his head up to look at you.

luke rolls his eyes, before taking off his shirt. he quickly presses another series of harsh kissses against your neck, fiddling with the clasp of your bra as you push your chest up against his. you giggle softly at his incompetence, before he finally unhooks it and ravenously pulls it from your chest.

luke pushes your body backwards onto the bed, trailing kisses down from your neck and onto your tits. you let out a quiet moan, before biting down onto your hand in order to stifle the sound. his large hands knead your left breast, while the other grips the area just under your right breast, resting on top of your ribcage.

luke’s hands slowly move downwards, hip thumb tracing circles against the side of your hip as you gently grasp onto his hair. his fingertips gently pull down your shorts, leaving you in only your underwear.

he rubs his thumb over the wet fabric, before tilting his head to look up at you. “pathetic,” he mutters, smirking at your flushed faced. you groan, burying the back of your head further into the pillow as your back arches involuntarily.

luke’s thumb massages your clit from over the soaking fabric, watching you squirm in response. he lets out a dry laugh, before pulling down your panties and tossing them onto the floor.

“luke…” you moan quietly, closing your eyes as your hips jerk into the mattress. his fingers trace your wet folds, before letting his thumb rub circles against your clit and forcing two fingers inside of you.

you whimper before pursing your lips, rolling your head around as he slowly pumps his fingers in and out. he quickens his pace, pressing down harshly against your clit while beginning to suck on the skin of your upper thigh.

luke holds down your hip with his free hand as you begin to squirm.

suddenly, he stops.

you look at him with a confused expression, your face red as he pulls his fingers out. he chuckles at your disappointed face, before taking off his pants and boxers. you stare at his length unashamedly, biting down on your bottom lip.

“so fucking needy.” he says lowly, his voice horse as he softly begins to continue massaging your clit. you moan, feeling your back arch as he positions himself in front of your legs. he forcefully spreads them open as he teases your folds with the tip of his erect member.

you let out a little whine, your voice trembling as you try to move your hips against his length.

luke rolls his eyes at your poor attempts at penetration, before slowly pushing his cock into your entrance. you let out a breathy, high pitched moan, your hands eagerly gripping your bedsheets.

he gradually pushes in the entirety his length, continuing to rub circles into your clit. luke tightly grips your waist as he begins to slowly pull out, before jamming himself back in. you let out a breathy yelp as you body moves with his thrusts.

like continues relentlessly pushing in and out of you, massaging your waist as his thumb gradually increases the speed of its attack on your clit.

you try to steady you breathing, your face flushed as lukewarm continues to deliberately overwhelm your body.

“mm… luke, i’m gonna…” you mutter, your hips jerking upwards. he smiles at you, amused by how blissed out you look taking his cock. “so soon?” he teases, rapidly moving against your body.

you let out a stammering series of whimpers as your back arches upwards, feeing yourself suddenly release. luke grins, continuing to rub circles into your clit as he rides out your orgasm.

luke slowly retracts his thumb, repositioning the hand to gently grip your hip. he begins to slow down his movements, before quickly thrusting into you repetitively. you squirm, the movements of your hips constrained by his grip.

suddenly, he pulls out, releasing onto your stomach. see? he was a gentleman.

luke gazes over at the girl he just reduced to a panting mess as he stands up and puts his clothes back on. he smiles at you as he zips up his jeans, before kneeling besides you as you turn your head to look at him.

“i wont tell anyone how fucking pathetic you are, don’t worry, princess.”

you nod, staring at him as he continues to look at your defenceless body. “such a pretty girl,” he hums, cupping your face in his hand before kissing your forehead.

he reaches over to your discarded underwear and gently pulls them up your legs, the gesture acting somewhat as a peace offering. he takes a step back, simply taking in how endearingly stupid you look.

you slowly sit yourself up, grabbing your camp t shirt and putting it on. “goodnight, luke,” you choke out, your voice hoarse and breathing shallow. he nods, smiling softly as he turns to walk away. “night, princess.”

[bsxcrxts]

out of the woods yet // Steve Harrington x librarian!reader

chapter five

Summary: Steve and reader fool around in the library after he catches reader with a trashy romance novel. 

Content Warning: this is explicit!!! DNI if you are not 18+! more specifically this fic contains: thigh-riding, groping, teasing, fingering, a hand job, dirty talk, etc. no spoilers for s4! it takes place between s3 and s4.

Word Count: 3.2k !!!!

A/N: Well shit y’all I didn’t finish it before the premiere, but I’m only three hours late! The romance novel in question that Steve reads passages from is inspired by a real book, though technically that irl novel was written after this fic takes place lol. Also, I have changed the quotes to be cringier but the inspiration is there, so credit where credit is due. *cites smut in MLA format*

BTW: you don’t have to read the other parts first to understand this, but it’d be cool if you did! Here they are:

Series Masterlist

“What’s this?” Steve asks, mischievously grabbing the book that you’d just thrust quickly onto the book cart sitting by the front desk. Something about the way you practically threw the book out of your hands when you caught a glance of him approaching has his interest piqued. Steve knows he’s accidentally startled you a few times since he started coming into Hawkins Public Library after his morning shifts end at Family Video, where he had semi-successfully secured a job working with Robin after some clever conniving on her part, but he’s never seen you react like a kid caught with their hand in a cookie jar before.

Accidentally interrupting you with his presence while you’re off in your own world is nothing new for Steve. Before the two of you started hanging out regularly, and then dating, he’d see you close your sketchbook, journal, magazines and various novels once you spotted him entering the library, often with a bit of absent-minded urgency, as if you’re nervous that if you don’t stop and pay attention to Steve, he’ll disappear. After the two of you got closer, you’d sometimes show Steve what you were reading, writing, or drawing, and he’d sit and listen to your impassioned rambles about whatever was important to you the most at the moment, even when he didn’t quite get it, which was around half the time.

In fact, Steve has learned a lot about you. He’s learned your family moved to Hawkins at the end of May because of your parent’s jobs, one year before your brother was set to graduate from high school, and that you actually went to a university halfway across the country for two semesters before dropping out (you haven’t told him why yet; he doesn’t know if you ever will, and seeing as how college is a sore spot for both of you, he doesn’t press the issue). You played volleyball in middle school, you hate licorice candy, and you prefer The Beach Boys to The Beatles. Your family only has one car and you really hate driving it. In contrast, you seem to really love making out with him in his car when he takes you on dates after your shift. You got the job at the library because you prefer how quiet the environment is, and it’s Steve’s belief that you also were hired because you read faster than should be humanly possible, but he’s not sure if that’s just his opinion because he’s never been a quick study at school work. You’ve been attempting to convince him that reading can just be for fun, but Steve’s not so sure yet.

Or at least, he wasn’t sure before.

When he looks at the novel you’d scrambled to place on the book cart and he looks at the cover, Steve has to resist the urge to laugh. Not because he wants to make fun of you, but because the art on this book has got to be one of the cheesiest things he’s ever seen. There’s no way this thing has any academic merit. A scantily clad, muscular man with long, flowing locks clings onto the legs of a woman who is perched on a bed, her head thrown back in pleasure, her dress slipping off her shoulders, her breasts almost spilling out of her corset. The title is scrawled out in loopy, mock-elegant typeface in a bright, gaudy pink, and the tagline proclaims something about conquest and surrendering to love. He’d recognize one of these anywhere; a trashy romance novel, something grandmothers and aunts everywhere yank away from prying eyes and hide in their bedroom dressers.

Steve looks up, raises his eyebrows and smirks at you. “Scandalous,” he starts, unable to even get another word out before you start fumbling for an excuse.

“Someone just returned it,” you offer, folding your arms in front of you.

“Really?” Steve laughs.

“Mhm,” you affirm.

“Because I’m pretty sure I just saw you reading this.”

“I was not,” you say, mock offended.

“Then you won’t mind if I read some of it,” Steve taunts, “and see what all the fuss is about?” He starts to walk backwards, putting distance between himself and the front desk where you sat. He begins flipping through the novel, looking for any specific passages that might be more likely to make you blush.

You brace yourself and lean forward on the desk, obviously watching his every move. Good, Steve thinks, exactly how he likes it.

“Come back here with that,” you instruct, “I have to catalog it.”

“Is that what they call it these days?” Steve jokes.

“Steve,” you whine.

“Come get it then,” Steve calls, already halfway across the room, “if you want it so bad.” He’s not sure he’s still talking about the book as he runs off deeper into the library. He’s fairly certain there’s no one else in the library anyway, because it’s near minutes to closing time, and the only sounds he’s heard are the banter between you and him; still he chooses to duck into one of the more secluded aisles. Steve waits a beat or two before he starts scanning the book more seriously, not ready to give up the game yet, identifying and turning to a dog-eared page that he hoped wouldn’t lead him astray just as you rounded the corner.

“What took you so long?” he asks playfully.

“I locked the door,” you answer matter-of-factly. Steve’s heartbeat kicks up, knowing that’s as good as your unofficial blessing to continue his shenanigans. “Are you gonna give it back now?” you ask. 

“Nope. Good that you locked the door though,” Steve continues. “Wouldn’t want anyone else hearing what you were reading in this naughty little book, I guess.”

“Steve–”

“Let’s see, here’s a good part. ‘He tore off the rest of his clothing, his gaze on his wife all the while–’” Steve starts. You lunge at him and swipe at the book, but Steve dodges and turns his body away, too fast for you. He watches the flush on your face grow even when you laugh as you miss your chance to snatch the book from his hands.

“Or how about this paragraph?” Steve teases, turning the page. “‘He thrust into her over and over, mindless now to everything but finding his peak. The bed rocked with his powerful thrusts.’”

You practically pin Steve to the shelf behind him with your body, pressing against him and grabbing at the wrist of his hand that held the book, though he easily breaks free. Steve’s already worked up at the idea of his girlfriend reading explicit romance novels, but with your body is firmly up against his own, and the way you’ve almost turned the tables on him, he’s halfway to hard as he wonders who’s actually in charge of the situation at hand. You’re still reaching for the romance novel that he’s now holding above his head to avoid letting you grab it. He glances up at the pages and keeps reading.

‘She knew she was falling apart in his embrace. She didn’t care. She called his name as ache after ache of pleasure washed over h–’ ohh” Steve cuts himself off with a moan. You’ve unexpectedly started kissing him, sucking a hickey into the junction of his jawline and neck, gently biting at the skin there. Between the friction of your body against his, and the feeling of your mouth on him, Steve’s brain short circuits, and he practically forgets instantly he’s trying to keep anything away from you at all. You stop kissing him when Steve relaxes, bringing his hands down to run along your arms. Steve is blindsided when you gently grab the book from him and stop your motions.

“There’s more than one way to get what you want,” you smugly murmur against his ear, tapping him on the chest with your newly-won prize. 

“That’s not fair,” Steve insists.

“Oh? You want me to stop?” you ask.

“Absolutely not,” Steve mutters against your lips as he pulls you in for a kiss, hands grasping at your ass as you press even further into him, rolling your hips against his hardness, before you begin sliding a hand in between your two bodies, surprising him as you lightly squeeze the hard outline of his cock through his jeans.

“You’re fucking filthy, you know that?” Steve says to mask a whine, doubling down on tormenting you. “Reading a book so dirty at your job.” His jeans are so tight that he’s actually uncomfortably trapped in them, and he feels his cock twitch against your hand.

“I’m filthy?” you laugh, “You’re the one getting off on the thought of me reading those novels. That’s so perverted, baby.”

“Yeah, well, you’re getting off to the thought of me, getting off on you,” Steve says, even though it hardly makes sense, even to him. He’s struggling to maintain conversation with you, and he quickly maneuvers the two of you to sit down at one of the tables next to the shelf so that he can get a second to breathe. You straddle his lap, perched on one of his legs. Once you’re settled, you kiss him passionately and rock on his thigh a little bit. Steve groans, feeling your warmth and wetness even through your clothing and his jeans.

“Condom?” you ask as Steve divulges you of your sweater, running his hands up your shirt and under your bra. He’s so distracted with touching your tits that he barely registers the question. When he does, he kicks himself for not thinking of bringing something like that with him at all times anymore. He blames his stupid dry spell internally, then shakes his head.

“Oh well,” you say, running a hand along his still-clothed erection, “you’re so big, anyways. Don’t know if I could even take it all unless you played with me first.”

It goes straight to his cock. You’re serious even though your tone has a teasing lilt, and Steve moans, partly out of surprise, but also because you’re really, really turning him on. His cock twitches embarrassingly violent in your cupped hand, and you unzip his jeans, rubbing him over his boxers as you grind your pussy into this thigh.

“You liked that, didn’t you? Wanna hear about how I daydream about your cock? So big, Stevie. I can tell.”

Steve’s had enough. He has to take charge of this situation before he creams his pants, and he’s rapidly approaching the reality of that being a possibility. 

“You daydream about a lot, apparently,” Steve snarks, batting your hand away from his dick. “I can feel how wet you are, did the book get you like this, princess?” He’s fishing for compliments now and he knows it, a tiny seed of doubt in his mind that maybe you’re not as into him as he thinks if you’re wasting your time on horny novels.

You shake your head. It’s not enough. He wants to hear it.

“Who makes you this wet?” he pushes you to answer as he grabs a hold of your hips and roughly guides you, forcing your clit to rub hard against his thigh. 

“You do,” you gasp. The admission makes Steve go crazy. He needs more, more, more, wants to hear every little dirty secret you have and then some. He never thought about the possibility you read cheesy, trashy romance novels, and now he wonders what else he’s never thought of that you’re into.

“So why don’t you sit there and grind on my thigh and prove it?” he smirks, leaning back into the chair and taking you with him. He pushes his boxers down, pulling out his cock with one hand and stroking it slowly, making a show of touching himself in front of you. His other hand wanders back and forth between touching your tits and guiding your hips. You lean forward to touch him, looking positively feral, your eyes blown and mouth open, but as tempting as you are, Steve doesn’t want you to touch him yet. He thinks he’ll spill in seconds if you do. 

Your body moves in sinuous rolls as you drag yourself along Steve’s thigh. He can’t see it, but he can feel that his jeans are ruined, you’ve soaked through your panties and are basically dripping on his thigh. He has no clue how he’s going to leave the building like this, but he isn’t thinking about that now.

“Better than your book?”

“Yes, fuck,” you swear. “Steve, please. I-I can’t– ”

Steve takes a moment to tease you. “What’s wrong? Can’t come like this? You need me, princess?”

“Fuck!” you cry out, grinding your cunt against him especially hard. Steve is playing with you, but you’re rapidly approaching the point of no return. “More, please, I need you.”

Steve finds that’s exactly what he needed to hear. He abandons his throbbing cock and uses both of his hands to assist your grinding motions, moaning as he watches your face screw up with pleasure.

Steve’s own heart is pounding in his ears, but he knows you have to be closer than him. Just to see what would happen, he bounces his thigh a little bit, leaning into you and sucking kisses into your skin.

“Jesus,” you choke out.

“You liked that, didn’t you?” Steve echoes your words from earlier.

You’re too far gone to quip back. Instead, you delve into more whimpers and moans as Steve speeds up, bouncing his leg at rate that’s almost causing vibrations through your body. Steve watches as you get increasingly more desperate.

“Don’t stop, don’t you dare fucking stop, oh, oh, oh!” you almost shout, and Steve can feel you clench around nothing as your climax hits you and you finish all over his thigh. It makes his cock leak, and he bites his lip to keep from coming himself. He lets you ride your orgasm out, falling forward into his arms, but then he can’t stop himself before he’s picking you up and laying you down on the tabletop. 

Steve leans over, kissing down your neck, before he strips your skirt and panties off completely. You’re still blissed out, clinging to him and sighing at every bit of stimulation he gives you. Steve can’t help but admire you, pushing your shirt and bra up as he runs his hands down your body and gropes at you. He thinks you’re maybe the most gorgeous thing he’s ever seen like this, relaxed, but still needy, as you grab at him to pull him in for a kiss.

The way you lick into his mouth has him groaning. 

“You’re beautiful,” Steve says against your mouth when he takes a moment to breathe. He has to tell you. It’s a matter of the utmost urgency. You pull him in for another kiss, this time much sweeter than the last, and Steve knows you’re thanking him for his words.

“Think you can give me one more?” he asks when you pull away, already running a finger through your sopping folds.

“Mph! Yes!” you gasp, the stimulation sending shocks throughout your body.

“God,” Steve almost whimpers, “you’re being so loud. Can you imagine what would happen if someone walked in right now?”

He knows, logically, that can’t happen, since you locked the door. But the idea thrills him, and his cock is throbbing where it rests against your stomach, leaking pre and he’s maybe the hardest he’s ever been. The eroticism of the fact that the two of you have basically made it to third base at your workplace does not escape him as he pushes a finger inside of you and begins slowly thrusting. Your previous orgasm has you open and dripping on his hand, and he adds another finger almost right away.

“You wanna share me?” you ask, tentatively.

No, no Steve does not. He wants you all to himself, but he doesn’t think the idea of others catching a glimpse of you strung out on his fingers is too bad, especially if the point is to prove to everyone how much you’re into him. He shakes his head.

"Just want everyone to know you’re mine,” he growls.

“That’s hot,” you whine.

“Yeah?”

“Definitely.”

He speeds up his thrusts. The sound of your pussy around his fingers is pure debauchery, and you clench around him as his mouth comes down to kiss and suckle at your breasts. Steve is lost to giving you pleasure; he doesn’t know how he’s managed to ignore how painful his dick is becoming as he’s denied himself in favor of chasing your orgasm, but the only thing on his mind is the urge to see you coming around his fingers.

He re-positions his hand to allow himself to rub at your clit and you tense up and bear down on his hand, grinding on him as he gives one, two, three swipes across your sensitive spot. This time he feels you fluttering around his fingers, imagining how you’d feel around his cock. Your nails dig into his shoulders as you finish, and the slight, stinging pain and marks he knows you’ll leave behind push him impossibly closer to the edge.

The moment you recover, he can’t help but begin to beg.

“Touch me, please,” Steve vocalizes his need, “I’m so, I-I need you to touch me.”

Steve nearly goes cross-eyed watching as you spit in your hand (he can hardly imagine you need to, he’s been practically dripping for a half hour, but it’s really fucking hot) and reach down to touch him. He’s leaning over you now as you lay on the table, stroking his hard cock above you and looking up at him adoringly.

“Been so good to me,” you coo, “I really wanna see you come on me, baby.”

That’s all it takes. Steve gasps and lets his eyes roll back, his cock twitching in your hand as he finishes across your stomach and chest, narrowly missing your blouse and bra. He’s not sure he’s ever come this hard as he practically sees stars; you keep touching him until he taps your hand away, signalling he’s had enough. He lets the aftershocks take over his body, almost collapsing on top of you before realizing he should let himself down beside you to avoid getting his own spend all over his shirt. A few moments later he notices you slowly sit up and cast your gaze towards him.

When the two of you make eye contact, he notices you stifling a giggle. 

“What’s funny?” he asks, smiling gently.

“I can’t believe we did that,” you laugh.

“Hey, you’re the one who started it by reading the dirty novel,” Steve winks at you.

“Mmm no,” you say playfully as Steve positions himself next to you, “I hadn’t even gotten to the explicit part yet. That is all you.”

“I’ll take that as a compliment.”

“Of course it is,” you say, leaning in and kissing him softly. Steve throws an arm around you and kisses the top of your head.

“Speaking of,” Steve mutters. “Where did the book even go?”

The two of you glance back at the romance novel, lying not even a foot away on the table, its cover torn, and a suspicious wet spot painting half the pages.

“Shit,” Steve says.

You both burst into laughter.

[vampirewhohuntsvampires]

I ramble saur much in this all I talk about is likening my boyfriends and the future and my mother erm don’t mind me. Read if you want too I make 0 sense in this it’s 6 am

B.being poly and queer is so awesome. I wish my baby self could see me right now. Everyone soo cruel to you making you think being black, fat and having a weird gender made you unloveable or that you’d just have to settle for someone who only tolerated you. I was high key a hopeless romantic as a kid, which I ended up dying off on its own. Dating isn’t the end all be all for loving yourself, I would have done that journey for me anyways. But it makes it much more awesome when there’s someone who does fall in love with you, and then it happens again. Literally life changing to wake up every morning and remember there are people out there who love you and adore your company, who do find you hot, who care about you. I had a lot of these comforts with friends to begin with but it’s like a cherry on top if I think hard about it. Honestly I just think I wake up happy cause it’s usually my first thought. I’m like a sap at my core but it’s a fight actually sharing my thoughts I get so shy and I would hate to be repetitive, this entire post is just me being sappy it probably isn’t coherent

Ermmm also my birthday coming up so that’s an added factor, when I convinced myself in high school I wouldn’t make it past 21, I was not expecting to be any kind of relationship by then. So well, obviously I’m pushing past 21 now cause it’s nawt like I can just die on them like that lol. I also have a better string of friends so it’s not like I could die on them either, fortunately I must survive. It’s also made me like re think a lot of my views and life goals, do I wanna go back to STEM? Do I want to write? Be a history teacher? Honestly I’ve even rethought my stance on not wanting kids because I was right at the time, but I lack the self hate that made me unfit for a parental roles also I’ve been working with kids all my life so what the fuck was I on. That’s a conversation I’ll probably have to have in the future though when things get more serious. Idc right now.

I also kind of wish i got the chance to introduce my mom to either of my boyfriends. Like it probably would have been a rough start but she woulda understood eventually. Out of everyone she was like the most excited about my potential love life. Aufhh. I will probably bring them to the next dia de los muertos celebration, closest thing I got.

Downer aside, I am almost 20 and I am loved. That’s the most exciting thing ever

[hdmiwire]

making “we” statements

wc: 3937 this is only slightly more proofread than the draft lol. part one of this story is here if you would like to read it first, although it isn't super necessary.

The airport is hot and crowded, the sounds and smells of tourists coming and going is overwhelming. I rotate my phone in my hands nervously, watching carefully for the green leather suitcase on the baggage claim track. Pulling my eyes away from the track for a second, I scan for my dad’s signature white suit in the crowds of people waiting to claim their loved ones. Still not here, I think, letting out a quiet groan of anxiety as I turn my attention back to the parade of luggage. It's a good thing too, because just as I do my suitcase is moving by, just in front of me. I reach out to grab it at the same time as someone else and jump when my hand makes contact with theirs, which is adorned with many golden rings and long lilac nails. They grab the suitcase and set it on the ground between us, and I turn to look at them. 

“Great minds think alike I see,” the stranger says with a soft chuckle. I can’t speak, taken aback by the person in front of me. She’s several inches taller than me, her blonde hair pulled back to reveal the bright pink underside. My face starts to burn when she smiles down at me, showing off the gap in her two front teeth. 

Nodding my head, I prepare myself to figure out our suitcase conundrum when another of the same green suitcase comes rolling by on the conveyor belt. She grabs this one as well, placing it next to the other one between us. I lean over to check the baggage tags and see which one is mine, hoping to get this over with and get out of this hell hole before I say something stupid. 

I pull up the handle of the suitcase that belongs to me, getting ready to apologize for the mix-up when both of our phones begin ringing at the same time. I nod at her as I scurry away to try and get somewhere I can actually hear whoever is on the phone. Pressing the green answer button and bringing the phone to my ear.

“Hey! Maddy, good you answered,” it’s my dad, and he sounds a little out of breath.

“Dad? Is everything okay? Why didn’t you call from your cell,” I wonder, before realizing that he’s probably in his office still. 

“Yeah, I know, sorry. Listen, my morning meeting ran over and I have another one in a few, so I’m sending a car to pick you up and take you to the apartment, okay?” There's a long inhale before he continues, “Also, a good friend of mine who lives in the same building is in this next meeting, and his kid was supposed to be getting in from Italy at the same time as you. Her name is Amanda, try and find her and get her to wait for the car with you, okay?” I can hear someone knocking on his door as he finishes his ramble. I agree, asking what she looks like so I know who to be looking for, and my stomach drops when the description he gives is of baggage claim girl - great, this is exactly what I need on my first day in New York. 

Swallowing my embarrassment, I hang up the phone and turn around to try and find her again, only to see her looking directly at me. I smile and wave awkwardly, shrugging in a “small world, isn’t it?” kind of way. Her shoes click on the tile as she strides towards me, still grinning. I clear my throat before finally opening my mouth to speak;

“So, Amanda, is it? Sorry for the whole… awkwardness of earlier.” The heat is burning up my face again, and I want to throw myself into the sun. She seems to not be bothered by my rambling and just keeps grinning at me. Briefly, her eyes scan me up and down and I fight the urge to hide myself, regretting my decision to wear sweats on the flight. 

“Mandie is fine,” she says, green eyes boring holes into my soul as she holds out her hand. I accept her handshake, introducing myself as Maddy. The next fifteen minutes are spent reveling in the similarity of our nicknames and getting to know the most basic information about each other, while we wait for the car to arrive. By the time the car is pulling into the airport, I know that Mandie is twenty, has a twin brother, and is also starting at F.I.T. in the coming spring semester. Once we’re in the car, I feel myself starting to nod off, exhausted from the stress of the airport and the looming dread of the twenty missed calls from my mother. Leaning my head back on the leather of the car’s seat, I allow myself to drift off and think back to the events of the last few days.

When I open my eyes, I’m sitting in the living room with Mom and Mags, staring into the roaring fireplace as the two of them process what I’ve just told them. I know that neither of them will like it, but I just hope that it doesn’t reset what Mom has been trying to do.

“Madison you can’t just leave! You… where will you even go? What are you thinking?” My mother’s voice is grating, although I hear genuine concern in it for the first time since I was very young. 

“Marie, she's an adult, and you knew this was coming sooner or later. You can’t keep trying to clip her wings.” Mags is the only voice of reason in the house currently, Mom and I are both too strung up on emotions after our conversation the other day. I’m still reeling from her attempts at apologizing, unsure if I’m really ready to forgive her for icing me out for all these years.

Mom sighing guides me back out of my thoughts again. “I know, Magnolia, I know. I just… there’s still so much I have to say,” she says earnestly. Turning my gaze away from the fire, I finally look at her. Her hair is unkempt compared to her usual state, having let her usually pressed hair go untouched for longer than is normal for her, and her light eyes are brimming with tears. I jerk my head away and stand up, hugging myself.

“Mom… I know, and I’m sorry I just can’t. I love you, you know that, and I don’t want to hurt you, I just can’t be here anymore.” My words come out shakier than I wanted, and I curse myself for allowing even thinking that anything I could ever do would compare to what she put me through.

She scoffs, “What do you mean you ‘can’t be here?’ What is ‘here?’ This house? This room? This family?” The last word is punctuated with a gesture to Mags, and it stings. There it is, I think, it’s over. Her words are painful, and to even insinuate that I don’t care about this family is insane. I try to steady myself with a deep breath before I speak again; just because she’s aiming below the belt doesn’t mean I have to. 

“You know that’s not what I mean, and you also know that I’ve always wanted to go be with Dad. Georgia has never been the right place for me, there’s nothing here that can move me forward,” I take another deep breath, fighting the tears that are bullying their way to the surface. “The ticket is bought, my boxes are shipped, and Dad knows I’m coming. I’m leaving Monday, and that's it.”

Neither of them have anything to say after that, and I hope it stays that way. My phone buzzes once, twice, three times before it starts ringing, but instead of Childish Gambino playing from the speakers, there's a foggy voice calling my name.

“Maddy! Maddy! Maddy, wake up we’re almost there!”

Jolting out of my sleep, I find myself face to face with Mandie. She looks frazzled, her dark brows furrowed and nose scrunched in concern. As I blink away the dream and memories of my mother’s face, I realize that her hands are firmly planted on my shoulders, the cool metal of her rings seeping through my shirt. I straighten myself up, clearing my throat and hoping that she can’t sense the rapid thumping of my heart against my ribs or see the heat I feel on my ears. 

“Sorry,” I mutter, turning to look out the window just as we roll under the covered entrance of my dad’s apartment building. I can still feel her eyes boring into the back of my head, and I briefly wonder if she’d been watching me sleep the whole time. The driver puts the car in park and steps out to open her door for us to climb out.

“Alright ladies, welcome home!” His chipper voice is loud and grating on my ears, but I smile and thank him as I clumsily climb out of the car behind Mandie. “Ah, Miss Carver? Your father asked me to give you this.” The driver holds out a forest green lanyard with two keys and a keycard on it, presumably to enter the building and the apartment. I take the lanyard from him, and as I feel the weight of the keys in my hand, tears begin to well in my eyes at the thought that I had finally made it here. Swallowing my feelings for now, I thank the driver and make my way to the back of the car, where Mandie is, to grab my suitcase. 

I look down at the keys in my hand again, turning them over. One has “ELV'' carved into the front, the other “PH15-B.” The fifteenth floor? Jesus, Dad. The one labeled ELV is an odd shape, and it almost reminds me of the keys that came with those little book fair diaries. It's just the top of a key with a small, hollow tube on the end. 

“You good,” Mandie poses, cocking her head to the side as she takes in my face.

“I’m great.” I can’t help the grin on my face, because I really mean it this time.

We make our way inside, Mandie waving at the front desk attendant as she guides me through the lobby, towards the elevators. The lobby is massive, the ceilings reaching higher than anything I’ve ever seen. The exterior of the building seemed old, but inside its all white, black, and gold, an ultra-modern vortex in the middle of New York. There are two elevators on the far end of the lobby, the one on the left has a sign over it that reads “PENTHOUSE ACCESS LIFT” in cursive, curling letters. The bronze doors slide open a few moments after Mandie pushes the button, and we step inside its mirrored interior. Mandie gestures between me and the floor selection buttons, and I snap out of my awe-induced haze and place the elevator key into the little round spot labeled with the number fifteen, pushing in. As soon as I do, the elevator surges into motion, taking us up to the fifteenth floor.

“So,” Mandie starts, breaking the thick silence with a question. “Georgia, huh? What's that like?” 

“Very… southern. But it's nice, good trees there.” I cringe internally at my own words, staring down at the tiled floor of the elevator and praying it would move faster. Mandie hums, looking up at the mirrors on the ceiling. We spend the rest of the elevator ride in silence, only interrupted by the beeping of the elevator as we pass the other fourteen floors in the building. As we reach our floor, the elevator lurches, and I nearly fall over at the force, reaching out for Mandie on instinct. Quickly, I jerk my hand away as she giggles, asking if I’m alright and saying that I’ll “get used to it.”

The doors slide open again, and we’re met with a hallway that resembles the lobby, a few chairs and tables along the walls leading down to a large window directly opposite the elevator. We step out of the elevator, its bronze doors closing once again to wait for the next person who calls on it. In the middle of the hallway, there are two doors on either side of us, one reading “15-A” and the other “15-B” in the same font as the elevator sign in the lobby. 

“I trust you know how to unlock a door, right Maddy,” Mandie muses, and hearing my name come from her mouth makes bugs crawl up my spine and I shiver, shaking them off.

“I- uh, yeah, I’m good,” I smile at her before picking up the door key on the lanyard, and sticking it in the door. Before Mandie can do the same, I hear her door fling open and a woman cry “Amanda!” in a thick Italian accent - not the kind that you hear in movies, but a real accent, only obtained from a lifetime in Italy. I turn around and see a shorter brunette woman squeezing Mandie, and I assume it's her mother. Smiling at the scene, I return to the key and push the door open, getting smacked in the face by the scent of orange Pine-Sol as I step inside. My grin grows as I imagine my dad running around last night, scrubbing anything he could reach, just like he would before we had people over when I was a kid. 

I close the door and lock it behind me, hanging my keys on one of the hooks next to the door before taking my sneakers off, knowing Dad would kill me if I tracked dirt on his clean floor. I pick the shoes up and make my way into the house, pulling my suitcase behind me. Just beyond the short entry hallway is the living room, the matching gray couches and chairs looking straight out of the Ashley Furniture catalog. I walk through the living room and into the kitchen, taking in the stainless steel appliances and granite counters before my eyes land on something that feels out of place. On the refrigerator door, there’s a piece of Hello Kitty notepad paper hanging from a laughing emoji shaped magnet, both of which were part of my gag gift for Dad’s birthday last year. I smile, taking the pink piece of paper down and sitting at the island counter to read it, leaning my elbows on the cool surface.

“Maddy, 

First, welcome to the ‘Big Apple!’ I’ll take you around all the hot tourist spots this weekend, after you’re more settled. Speaking of, the guest room is down the hall, just past the kitchen. Sam got you all set up with new sheets and pillows and whatnot, and all the boxes you shipped should be in the closet. 

I had my assistant run this note to the house after I called you earlier, I probably won’t be home until 5 - 6 at the absolute latest, promise. Sams out of town with his band, so he won’t be home until the end of the week.

There's probably only White Claws in the fridge, I need to go grocery shopping, but the number for a really good Chinese place is in the drawer next to the fridge. Knock yourself out kid!

Love, Dad”

His little letter warms my heart, and I feel the smile creeping up my face again. I hop up from the counter, leaving the letter there and turning down the hallway past the kitchen. I walk past a bathroom before coming to the door at the end of the hall, taking a deep breath as I twist the knob and push the door open. It's dim at first, light filtering in through a massive window that's partially covered with a sheer set of curtains. I flip the light on, blinking at its brightness for a second before my eyes adjust, and I can take in the room properly. It’s decently sized, a large queen bed sits up against the far wall, covered with white sheets and a mossy green comforter, and a desk sits in front of the huge window. I leave my suitcase by the door, and make my way to the bed, sinking into the soft pillows as soon as my head hits them.

I wake up a few hours later to a chirping noise coming from the kitchen and I sit up, trying to process where I am. I hear the door close and the chirping stops. Probably a security system, I think, standing up and stretching.

“Maddy? You here?” I hear Dad calling from the kitchen, and immediately I burst out of the room and down the hall, tackling him in a hug as soon as he’s in arms reach. He spins me around like he used to when I was a kid after he came home from a long day at work. When we stop spinning, he pulls me close, and we both just stand there, holding each other for the first time in almost a decade. After a few minutes, he pulls back, holding me at arms length and taking in my face.

“My god girl look at you! You look just like Mom,” he says, shaking his head, a large grin spreading across his face again. 

“That's what everyone says these days.” I’m not sure that he actually hears me, too busy taking in the fact that his little girl is all grown up now. I do the same, raking my eyes over his face. He looks the same as he does when we FaceTime, just a little more mature in the real world. His dark beard is occasionally interrupted by a speck of gray, and there are a few more wrinkles by his eyes, but overall he’s the same as when I was little. After a moment of us just observing each other, he clears his throat; 

“I smell like corporate, let me shower and then we’ll talk for real, yeah?” I nod, and after he disappears past the living room and into his bedroom, I go back towards mine, deciding that now is probably a good time to finally call Mom back. Before I make it to my door, there's a knock at the front door, and I jump a little. 

“Will you get that, Maddy? It’s probably Ronen.” Mandie’s dad… awesome, I think jogging over to the door so he doesn’t have to stand there waiting. I open the door, expecting to just see one man, but there are suddenly four people in front of me; Mandie, the brunette woman who I assumed was her mother, a guy who looks almost like an evil mirror version of Mandie, and a taller, blonde man wearing gold, wire-frame glasses.

“Ah hello,” the man with the glasses says, throwing his hands up in excitement, “you must be Madison! I’m Ronen Volta, your father’s business partner. This is my lovely, lovely wife, Celina, and my son Adam, and - well you’ve already met Amanda, yes?” Ronen smiles as he gestures proudly towards his family, and his wife flushes at his sentiments. 

“Yes, yes I have. It’s nice to meet you all I- would you like to come in?” I feel very awkward, still wearing my clothes from the plane, and I’m suddenly very aware of my choice to not rebraid my hair before I left home. I step to the side so the four of them can walk in, and Ronen smiles even wider, taking Celina’s arm as the pair make their way inside, followed closely by Mandie and Adam. Adam doesn’t speak, cutting me a stinging look when he walks by, and Mandie just shrugs, muttering something about how he’s a prick. The five of us sit down in the living room, talking about everything from the flight to Georgia to starting school in January. Eventually, Dad comes out of his room, apologizing for the delay and announcing that he ordered Chinese for everyone. This causes Ronen to laugh and applause, and Celina smacks his arm, reprimanding him for being so loud. When the food arrives, we relocate to the dining table, eating and laughing and catching up as if we were all old friends.

After several hours of laughing and eating and drinking, Ronen and his family take their leave back across the hall, inviting us over for a “proper dinner” next weekend. Dad shows them out, hugging Ronen and exchanging a peck on each cheek with Celina before closing the door. On his way to the living room, he takes a detour to grab two White Claws from the fridge, tossing one to me as he flops on the couch, letting out a long sigh.

“Love that family to death, but lord can Ronen talk your ear off,” he says, cracking open the frosted beverage and slurping up the bit of it that gathers on the lip of the can. Then, he turns to look at me, watching as I do the same with my can.

“Did anyone ever tell you about the day that I actually told your mom I thought I was gay?” He asks, but I don’t respond. He isn’t really asking, he knows the answer is “no.” “It was the day before your ninth birthday party, and you were sitting in the kitchen licking the beaters from your cake. I thought Marie’s head was going to explode, but then she just started crying instead. She didn’t yell, didn’t cuss me, didn’t say anything other than ‘how could you not tell me.’” 

“I know,” I say, remembering back to that day, hearing only the snippets of what Mom was saying to him out on the back porch. He sighs again, staring out the windows behind me before he continues.

“Yeah, I figured. I probably should’ve handled the whole thing better, but there's only so much you can do after nearly three decades of denial, you know?” He looks at me again, and I just nod. After that, he chugs the rest of his drink, slamming the can down on the dark wood of the coffee table.

He stands up, groaning and saying, “You’ve had a long day, we’ll talk more in the morning, alright kid?” He reaches a hand out and pats my cheek before picking his can up and walking to the kitchen. He drops it in the trash and then makes a beeline for his bedroom, calling out “I love you” over his shoulder.

As soon as his door closes, I let out a breath I didn’t realize I was holding, raising the ice cold can to my lips again. I stand up and walk over to the window that the dining table looks out of, looking down on the streets of New York. It’s probably only like 10 o’clock, but even still I’m amazed at the bustle of life that's happening just below me. Cars are rolling by, people are marching in an uncoordinated parade down the street, and the light coming from the other buildings around me seems to make the whole world glow brighter. As I smile down at the passersby, I can’t help but let my mind drift back to Mandie. I don’t know how, or why, or for what reason, but she seems to have wormed her way into a part of my brain that I didn’t even know existed until I bumped hands with her at the airport this morning. 

[jaredthebc]

Yokai Watch was on the brain earlier so I brainstormed a mini Yokai Watch X Pokemon Black and White AU! (Note that I haven’t really seen all the Yokai Watch Media, my main source of knowledge is the 1st game and the things people have told me over the years) ramble in the keep reading!

My main idea is Hilbert, Bianca and Cheren are the main core of friends the series follows, as well as Hilda later on. Initially, Hilbert is the only one with a Yokai Watch, which was a gift given to him from a random man (Alder) near Mount Wildwood (note the locations will probably be adapted to be more similar to Unova/New York, I’m using the canon names from Yokai Watch for a lot of things just cause I haven’t fully plot stuff out yet) though later on Bianca and Cheren will probably get their own watches too. Hilbert just figures the man was being generous, or just had something he needed to get rid of

Later when the trio are in the woods, Hilbert runs into an Oshawott Yokai, and befriends it. Bianca and Cheren are in on the Yokai deal right away, but Hilbert choses to keep it secret from his mom, and twin Hilda. Basically think of the Unova trio as something similar to Danny Tucker and Sam from Danny Phantom (and Hilda as like Jaz, honestly the main reason Hilbert didn’t tell her is because he knew she would probably use Yokai for mischief...and when she finds out she honestly does what he feared lol but she has a good heart). When Cheren and Bianca get watches, they have Snivy and Tepig Yokai’s respectively. Idk if Pokemon are really a thing in this universe, but stuff like gyms aren’t a thing and its way more slice of life

Oshawott, Snivy and Tepig can directly talk to the ones who scan them with the watch (like every Yokai in the series basically) though they don’t evolve. Evolution *is* a thing in the series, but its basically never brought up so I’m not gonna bother lol. They act like companions to each of their “trainers”, though are far less knowledgeable than Whisper is in the main series, so the trio has to basically work it out themselves how the Yokai stuff works with only surface level help from their Yokai

Now to contrast the slice of life...Team Plasma are 100% a thing, but they are more underground, like conspiracy theorists in a cult. They aren’t stealing publicly, more working in the shadows to use the Yokai knowledge for their schemes

N is a thing here, but he’s much more lowkey in his Plasma aid than he is in Black and White. He has the ability to see and hear Yokai without the use of a Yokai Watch, as well as being able to firmly grasp a medal to summon a Yokai by hand. I like to think he has the colors of the Yokai Watch in his eyes as a sort of heterocromia. He starts as somewhat of a frenamie for the crew, meeting with Hilbert to teach him about Yokai and such, while stealing the medals Hilbert and crew they earned over the course of the series for Plasma, as well as other schemes that weren’t like directly horrible so they still are on good terms (at least to Hilbert and Bianca, Cheren started hating N the second he first tried to steal medals lol) but is still clearly an antagonist. Over time though, the cult trickery starts wearing off some for N, and becomes much more a friend up to N leaving Plasma. Its not as in depth as Plasma is in the actual game, but still very much a cult in nature N needs to leave

Overall the whole thing has a Saturday Morning kinda vibe, but isn’t afraid to get mildly serious when needed for plot events. Its sort of a more serialized thing than the main Yokai anime, though not as heavy as the Gen 5 games are (no kids are gonna get stabbed with ice...as far as I know so far SIDUHEFUIHF)

[shutupheathersorryheatherr]

Welcome to my theater!

Lights, camera, action!

Currently taking submissions (requests:) Yes! please read what I will and won’t write first before requesting!!You can find the guidelines a bit further down this post

You can call me Ghost! This blog is a (mostly) kpop writing account. I write for: The Boyz, Stray Kids, Txt, Wayv, Nct and all its sub units lol, WEi Seventeen, Xdinary Heros, MIRAE, and more! idk we'll see how it goes. At the moment I use She/ They, They/ She pns!! And Im aeromantic! (Phew that was the first time I've ever written that down!!!)

~Performances~

~Entertainment to look forward to~

.a church boy smutty fic with tbz Jacob

.fic based on 'don't call me angel' by Ariana Grande. Ya know spies and all that

.Vernon fic

.fic in celebration of txts new upcoming album

.dancing in the kitchen jacob tbz fic

~Newest to the stage~

”Which hand product i think each svt member is” (crack but also VERY serious lmao)

“Jooyeon smutty hcs pt. 1” (jooyeon XH reader smut)

”Somehow you make the ‘city of love’ even better (Hyunjin skz x reader smut)”

”Birthday days (established relationship Beomgyu txt x reader fluff)”

"Feeling bold" (jungsu x reader established relationship fluffy and a lil suggestive)

~In the spotlight~

morning baby (keeho x reader suggestive)

xh realizing they love you romantically for the first time (fluff, hurt comfort I guess)

”I think you’re like, super duper cool— a morning with Kai” (heuningkai x reader smut)

“dreams sofas and whines” (Kevin moon x reader smut)

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please be respectful and leave some love like reblogs, and comments on the fics and stuff you like :) I don't write for any girl groups YET and I'lll add some other fandoms I write for soon!

dni if you’re racist, Islamophobic, homophobic, sexist, transphobic, or anything harmful like that!! This blog only has room for people who aren’t harmful to others in any way and rude behavior will not be tolerated!!

This is a sfw and nsfw blog so I’ll be putting warnings on any fics plus using the community label thingy so nobody gets any surprises So Please be mindful of that and don’t read what you don’t want to see since i also have sfw writings on my blog im perfectly okay with minor and ageless blogs interacting with those types of fics that’s are sfw and following me. But I WILL block you if you don’t have an age indicator in your bio saying you’re not a minor if you interact on a nsfw fic!!

Things I’m not gonna write: non consensual, scat, age play, dub con, pregnancy, murder, smut about an underage member, and for now no character death lol

random facts about meh: I love the movie It: chapter one lol (at this point it's a comfort movie) and many other pieces of horror media! Like the one and only Magnus Archives and borasca! also am an introvert. I love music in general. I really like R&B and punk and rock, and a lotta oldies too! I'm pretty much a new fic writer so Please bare with grammar mistakes and things like that! I'm trying my best

tags in use: ghosts reblogs, ghost chattin, Ghost's writing, beomgyu had me fainting™️ on this one, my babygirl hannie, jooyeon got me acting up, hyuka, my baby minnie, my baby ferret, hao, ghost rambles, requested by Anon the Shades, the lovely yerin, anon the shades

i'm tagging @cupidjyu cause they inspired me to do one of these!! Pls go check out their amazing work!

ALSO: Do Not copy and paste my work, plagiarize it, translate it, or anything like that!!!

[suugrbunz]

hi girly!!

1. love love your stuff

2. hope you’re doing well fr

3. could i pls request a bob ship?

appearance wise i’m 5’5 with an average build. ngl i’m a little heavy on the top iykwim so my back always hurts fr. LOL anyways i have blue/green eyes and brown hair that has like goldfish highlights in the sun. i’m half asian half white so do with that what you will. i’m pretty pale honestly oh and my hair is long, like almost to my butt long. id like to think i have a nice smile lol and i love making a pouty face, it’s just so fun.

personality wise i’m an ENFP-T so i’m naturally extroverted and outgoing. i make friends wherever i go and i’m a great people person. i can hold conversations with really anyone and people always tell me i’m very mature and good with adults and older people. i’m also a 2w3 so i tend to be a bit of a people pleaser. i naturally am drawn to leadership positions and taking charge but when i do i often over extend myself trying to accommodate everyone and their every need. i am a generally funny person. sometimes i make a joke that goes too far but i love making others laugh. i also am always complimenting people. i can be insecure myself but i love making others feel good.

i can get into a mood very easily tho. i do my best to hide it but i am very busy so i am not always the greatest in the morning and if i spend too much time around certain people i get cranky. i don’t snap nearly as much as i used too but my friends can tell when something’s off. i hate getting in those moods where im sulking but it happens sometimes. usually after some joking around or spending time with other people i snap out of it. what can i say im stubborn.

i love being involved in school. student council, SPIRIT WEEK, choir, clubs— all that jazz. i’m a pretty good student yk like i have a good rep at school and am pretty well known. i am also a theater kid. i know im sorry. i have been singing for a really long time and it’s like my thing.

i love you sing, dance, act, read, write, listen to music, shop, and spend time with people. my love language is for sure quality time but i do love words of affirmation. i often get called an “old soul” because i am very sentimental with old school values and i am drawn to anything 40s-90s. i am a die hard 80s music and movie fan and my friends think it’s funny im so obsessed with the classics (if you couldnt tell i am a history and english nerd, my close friend calls me her “favorite history buff”) but yeah i love spending time with others. me and my dad bond over watching movies together and listening to music and you bet im the life of the party wherever i go. always the first to do or initiate something, jumping onto the dance floor first and being the last too leave — i don’t like missing out so i take all the chances i can.

anyways i hope that’s enough info and i’m sorry if that’s too much or i rambled. honestly id be grateful if you even read up to this point. if you get a chance to write a ship i would really appreciate it but if not i totally understand!! no pressure whatsoever. thank you bestie boo :)💛💛

I've not felt quite that happy in the past week for numerous reasons. I think with time I'll be fine. Dumb memories, yknow? I know what you mean I'm heavy on top as well lmao. I like the way you speak. You seem really exciting. Thanks for the request

here's your ship!! (🚢)

꒰ I ship you with . . . Floyd Talbert ৎ୭ ꒱

A mutual friend decided to hold a party that was themed to a 1950s sock hop. Dancing to 1950s music was an ideal situation for you especially with the fashion you'd dawn. It seems absolutely perfect, right?

In the corner of the dance hall, he kept glancing at your. Sure, he could probably dance with anyone he'd want to but he had formed a soft spot for you. Even if he didn't know you. Something about your energy was so lovely.

He fell from the start, something about you was... Well, he couldn't put his finger on it but he knew you two were meant to have a relationship... Even if he has some red flags (he comes off a bit player-ish but it's ok)

Your first date is shortly after your first meeting; The way you two met was romantic and by the end of the night had been obviously flirting. So, he asked for your number and when it'd be best to call you.

You two ended up planning the date at the local mall; There's an arcade and theatre nearby, plus mall food. So you two can window shop, go play games, or maybe watch a movie. Maybe all of the above. It seems quite wholesome.

Floyd kissed you goodnight, it wasn't on the lips. That'd be too much at a far too quick rate. He kissed your forehead and for a moment you saw him blush. It's been quite clear he isn't shy, but hey, he's got a soft spot for you. And he can't hide blush.

Your second first kiss— aka your real first kiss...

You initiated it. You gave his lips a quick peck at the end of one of your dates. He was awestruck by the feelings that fluttered around his stomach. You were everything he wanted to fall in love with. You're the measure of his dreams.

The song that represents you two is ; I Saw Her Standing There by The Beatles (pretty cute for you two <3)

[mzashleypie]

Hey! I read your college advice post and noticed that you graduated from UT Austin, which has been my dream school since I can remember. I’m about to be a senior and I was hoping if you could give some tips on how to write a good college essay for UT?

Hey! This is going to get rambly so I apologize now lol.

-------

First things first, I was ranked 11 in a class of 600 and therefore in the top 7 and 10 percent of my class and was automatically accepted to UT. From what I've heard, they quite literally might've put my application in an accepted pile without reading any of my essays or extracurriculars.

Next, I was a very dreamy high schooler and wanted to go to the Ivy League and become some CDC researcher developing vaccines (this is a way more insane thing to say in 2022 than it was in 2014), but what did I choose to write about in my essay? The school library. I was called my library's mascot. I got to school every morning 2 hours before class to do homework and wait for the library to open. I worked in our "bistro" which was a stockroom where we sold coffee and did homework while I hung out with my friends. I had a stack of mugs and repaired my textbooks in the workroom. My librarian was like a second mother. I was in book club and anime club in the afternoons and decorated with the students for the holidays. I wrote the coziest vignette of community and home that I knew.

At the time, I didn't know that this is exactly what I was looking for in college. I wanted to be surrounded by people I didn't necessarily call friends, but just people who knew what it was like to be one of those in-between kids who didn't do sports, or band, or theatre, but loved to be consumed by stories. I applied to UT as a Biology major with a focus in microbiology and was accepted. I would graduate UT 4 years later as an English major with a certificate in Creative Writing with a focus in Poetry, but I feel like that conclusion would probably make much more sense than biology to anyone who read my essay.

I hope you write with passion and honesty on whatever your topic is and get in with the major you want!

And if you don't trust me, my fave May Gao does essay reviewing cheap or free for less advantaged students: https://www.collabadvising.com/essays

Going to add more about UT below, I swear I loved it, there's just a lot wrong with the way most schools work and I don't want you going in completely blind.

NOTES ON UT

Freshman classes are designed to weed people out of in-demand majors (CRUEL!!! but I was told this on multiple occasions faculty). Intro classes are notoriously difficult for calculus, biology, chemistry, and organic chemistry. You will probably fail your first test. It's okay (my roommate was our high school valedictorian and failed our first chem test and cried all night). I got back to back 32, 33, and 76 on chem tests and barely passed with a D. I survived. Fun Fact: former VP of the school got exclusively Cs in his intro classes.

Pick the major you want the most BUT if you are unsure or may want to double major, choose the major that is the most selective. This includes Comp Sci, any of the communications school, the business school, and engineering. These majors are extremely hard to once you are in and attempt to do an internal transfer. When I was trying to transfer into Moody for film, they told me they only accept 1 internal transfer A YEAR.

This school is a class divide. Coming from a working-class Hispanic family and from a not great public high school, I was absolutely broken by the amount of people with summer houses, no debt, loans, or work-study, who studied abroad multiple semesters, went out every night or even every weekend. If you are not White, Indian, or Asian, you will have to be active to find your people. There are tons of culture groups and clubs, but it's jarring when most of your classes are homogenous just because of who actually gets into UT.

Best of luck and feel free to message me here, twitter, or instagram if you have any other questions!

[marshmellowtea]

willy clarke all prompts for the character ask thing?

YES MY BOY MY BABY BOY

there's a couple questions on here that were also on the last ask game i did with him so prepare for some repeats lmao. also prepare for a lot of rambling because jfc i could not shut up about him </3

1. Favorite food?

y’know favorite food headcanons are stupidly hard for me for no reason other than me overthinking things too hard lol so i’m just gonna steal some headcanons from the discord server and say that he really likes salty snacks like chips and pretzels, he’ll eat whole bags of them in one sitting if he’s not paying attention. i also think he has a soft spot for apples and vanilla ice cream (the latter occasionally with sprinkles, if he’s feeling feisty or regressed lmao).

2. Morning or night person?

i'm gonna lean toward night person, i can see him staying up way too late and finding peace in being up at midnight when the world feels still…..buuut i can also see a case for him being a morning person, like he's used to getting up early, so he tends to wake up before the sunrise most days....this question is weirdly hard to answer for him tbh i really can see him going either way hfgkljKLDF

3. Favorite color

idk if he has a specific fave but i get the vibe that he really likes soft colors, shades that are easy on the eyes. i'm particularly thinking about pastel/really gentle shades of blues, purples, greens and grays, buuut i was also talking to someone in the server (waves at purple if you're seeing this hi <3) about him liking the color pink and that's also a cute headcanon i hold close to my heart hglkdsajf :’)

4. Headcanon(s)?

once again gonna do five here!

i assign this headcanon to all my faves but.....transfem genderfluid will lives in my head and my heart rent free. william can have a little gender okay, as a treat <3

the poor kid is absolutely touch starved, after his mom dies he doesn't really have anyone around to just give him a damn hug (and i have uh. thoughts about the nature of touch in their relationship too but we're gonna put that aside for now ghlkdsajf). the first time tanya holds him he almost starts crying on her shoulder, it's a little overwhelming for him :')

he's autistic! everyone and their mother has this headcanon ik but that's only because it's a good one lmao. i also think he has cptsd (i have THOUGHTS about his childhood okay) and suffers from periods of depression because.....yeah. yeah

i mostly have this headcanon because projection and also i think it's kinda funny hgkljKLDSF but i really like the idea that to the surprise of fuckin everyone, will really likes intense music like industrial or noise music. he'll put it on his headphones and aggressively stim to it, it just scratches a part of his brain for some reason ghdslkjf

basing this off my brother's boyfriend here lol sorry man but while he wears a lot of dark colors, he doesn't actually like wearing them all the time, lmao. he'd like to wear other colors, he just buys a lot of gray and black clothes (when he does have the money to buy clothes at least) because they're comfortable and they match all the other dark clothes he doesn't enjoy wearing, ghkdjf. i'd like to think that in a fix-it au his friends would help him develop a wardrobe that's both comfortable AND more interesting/fun for him to wear <3

5. Sexuality?

asexual! whether his romantic attraction is bi/panromantic, aromantic, or lesbian is kind up in the air for me and/or depends on the au though ghlkadsjf

6. OTP?

i am so fucking weak for willtanya it's not even funny. i am in hell over them <3

7. NOTP?

as stated before i am not big on romantic willmartha.....they're cute and all but hglkdsjf. they just don't do it for me i like them more as friends RIP

8. One way I relate to them

socially awkward neurodivergents. he doesn't know how to talk to people and neither do i goddammit ghkdalsfjKJSD

9. Are they in my top 10?

YES god yes. he's easily top ten in characters in this game, and while my top ten characters of all time tends to shift around depending on my hyperfixations, currently he's definitely up there he's just. waugh. i adore him :")

10. Favorite thing about character?

he's literally just. genuinely a sweet kid. he makes some bad decisions, sure, but i swear basically every interaction we see the real him have with other people is just him being the kindest little guy and i'm hgngnfd ;_; he's fucking baby and he deserves the w o r l d

11. Do they roast their marshmallows until they’re black, or golden brown?

i think he tries to get them golden brown but he almost always drops them in the fire on accident instead RIP

12. Secret special talent?

not roasting marshmallows that's for sure LMAO uhh i think he's actually a fairly good creative writer, both prose and poetry. i also think he's really good with animals as well (something something farmwork in the lawrence fraternity), and he's a surprisingly good singer, though he doesn't sing often. and yes i did put three here i couldn't decide between them ghlkasdfjlk

13. Do they sleep with socks on?

depends on how cold it is, i can see him going either way

14. Are they the type that takes games to seriously?

not at all, no. i think he's mostly just happy to be included most of the time ahh :')

15. What are they like when they’re happy?

canonically he kinda struggles to express himself so i don’t think he’s too different from how he is normally, buuuut i do think he finds himself smiling absently and stimming more often when he’s genuinely happy and content 🥺

16. Excited?

STIMMY BOY!! think hands flapping, bouncing in place, pacing around the room, he just can't keep still and it's so cute 😭

17. Sad?

i think he gets really quiet, tends to shut down and collapse in on himself. i think it can be hard to tell for people who don’t know him well to tell when he’s sad or upset, but with people he’s close to or trusts they tend to pick up on it pretty quickly because he’s a bit clingier/seeks out physical affection with them more than he normally does in addition to him being quieter than usual okay that last bit is more self indulgent than canon based but i think it’s really cute okay ;_;

18. Angry?

mmm this one's a bit difficult but honestly i can like. see him not really being sure what to do with himself when he's angry. i think he gets a bit terse with people, and maybe even lashing out if he's pushed hard enough, but mostly i just see him just bottling it up and stewing in it, trying not to really let himself feel it, if that makes sense. i don't think he gets angry very often, but when he does, i feel like he gets really uncomfortable with himself over it, y'know? i do have some reasoning behind this headcanon but this post is long enough as it is and idk if i can really articulate it properly so ghlkdsjf

[bisluthq]

That’s so trippy! 😂 I find it kinda flattering too, I’m like what the actual fuck, because the girl has a similar jaw shape as me, hair length, brunette and skinny like me. Ironically my ex (previous relations) look nothing like each other. So I’m like what the fuck. My friend even was like when I showed her the pics “I was just thinking that” (referring to her looking like me).

I can’t tell if that means we meant a lot to them or some shit or we were their type? And they think about us?

LMAo that’s true about ME! Gonna play it right now sksksks

I think it’s mostly a type thing like that’s what they find attractive (like for my ex it was petite, dark haired - until this current girl who is blonde but fits the rest, sorta pretty but in a non threatening way, a bit “Jewish looking” lol, dresses in a fairly classic way - the girl he sorta “left me for” who was and is very alternative style wise bit otherwise she fit all this and the blonde girl he’s with now and I literally have the same Michael Kors sneakers as I learned from when I stalked her for this exercise lol that’s the vibe usually, party girl with advanced degree). Another joke here is my ex wanted to break up in part because he said he thought I’m gay and need to be free to like explore that more and he wasn’t fully wrong there obviously but currently I’m with a man and that girl he left me for has been with a woman for the last few years lmao. In fact there was also another girl he dated briefly who I did meet because we were friendlier than we are at the time (not that we’re not friends now but he lives on another continent) and that girl was also short and dark haired and Jewish and has fully come out as a lesbian and is now with a girl I went on a few dates with before they got together lol. So maybe my ex’s other type is also yk kinda gay. Like yeah I mean I think he def has a type but I think I was the formative experience for the creation of that type because from 16/17-19/20 that was what a “girlfriend” was for him 😂

I once went through a very weird era of deciding I’m secretly still in love with him and like basically writing a fanfic in my head about how we should get back together but he was (fortunately because I was yk going through something there lol) not very receptive to the idea (I didn’t fully proposition him but I did message quite a bit and we had a few phone calls and I was like “idk maybe we should visit each other” and he was like “ummm” and yeah I mean I think he’s v happy with the current gf). So I don’t think he thinks of me per se but I do think it was a formative experience he can work through in therapy at some point lol and I also do think like in our case idk I don’t think you ever are gonna fully forget your first serious relationship/first love. Like much like we take stuff from our family dynamics and relationships, I think we also carry stuff over from our serious exes and I think even though we were kids, it went on a long time and it was generally a positive experience so I think we’ve definitely carried expectations from that into our adult lives. For instance quantity of sex tbh and the fact that we do both expect like our partners to be our best friends (probably why he keeps hitting on the gay women there lol but my current bf is the same like he’s disproportionately dated gay women and he and I are very close friends aside from the relationship aspect) and a bunch of other good stuff.

none of my subsequent partners look like him and tbh none of them have a similar job to him but all the men I’ve ever dated/90% of the ones I’ve hooked up with are very very tall and that was the thing I liked most about him physically so that also makes sense and I do like as humans and expect to want to want to be best friends with if we’re seeing each other idk sorry for the morning ramble.

[holydayaria]

Holding Cell

Yandere Barem Bridge x Reader

Synopsis: You're working with Public Safety and get sent to check things out at the "Chainsaw Man Church". After seeing something you shouldn't have, Barem decides he doesn't want you to leave.

Warnings: fem reader, implied age gap, hostage taking, yandere themes, sexual harassment/assault, attempted non-con.

The bulk of this was initially written right after chapter 140 came out lol ... 4.5k words... tagging @depravitycentral

On the first day of your job, you were given your ID card and assigned to a division. On the second day, you were being sent on your first official mission. Alone.

Your “buddy”, as your higher-ups called it, called out the morning of, leaving this to be a solo task. Normally it would be a big deal, and you’d be reassigned to a different case or given a new partner so you wouldn’t go in alone. However, this time, you were encouraged to just go on your own. Public Safety devil hunters were dropping like flies, and your division was low on staff. Even your new employees remarked that if there was any job to be going alone on, it’d be this one. That you should consider yourself lucky. The “mission” was to check up on a recent church that popped up to make sure no illegal activity was going on. It had gained so much popularity since its opening that it caught Public Safety’s eye. The Chainsaw Man Church; consisted mostly of teenagers and enthusiastic fans. How dangerous could it be?

The church is located in the middle of the city, a high-rise building with a giant Chainsaw Man head on the front. You’re not sure what you were expecting, maybe a traditional church building or a cathedral, but this building looked extremely corporate. You’re hit with a cool blast of air as you walk inside, seeing that the majority of the churchgoers are in school uniforms, high schoolers. There isn’t a front desk or any reception, but before you can look for anyone to guide you through, a short high schooler scurries over to you, nearly stumbling over his feet. He can’t be older than fifteen, he’s already sweating and his dark hair messily frames his face, which is speckled with moles. The kid is already out of breath, hands on knees as he composes himself and straightens out his posture before speaking to you. 

“H-i,” He slaps a hand over his mouth when his voice cracks, and he tries again. “Hi- I’m Nobana, Nobana Higashiyama-  uh, I’ll be ah- oh, you’re from public safety? You’re the one?” Nobana stutters and stammers over his words, nearly unable to stand still. You smile at him, trying to reassure him that you aren’t here to bite his head off. “Yes, I’m from Public Safety, I got sent out to do an inspection, just to make sure everything’s alright.” You talk slowly, giving the boy time to take your words in. He doesn’t calm down, if anything he gets more jittery and nervous. “Right! Right, I know, they told me… Well, uhm, you can come with me, I’ll show you around!” “Sounds good.” You say, and Nobana only nods. You’ve only just met him, and his mousy demeanor is already beginning to wear you down. Surely this boy wasn’t the only one available to show you around, weren’t there any adults here?

Nobana goes back and forth between topics, clearly not very experienced with giving tours. He does not seem to be very well-versed in social interactions in general. You begin to tune Nobana out as you get lost in your thoughts as he rambles on about the different chapters of the church, and how there are even locations in Canada and Germany. You continue to follow Nobana around, realizing that you’re going to need to speak with someone who isn’t a teenager to do a proper assessment of the place. Nobana suddenly stops in the corridor mid-sentence. He had been showing you the numerous paintings on the wall of Chainsaw Man, all in a very Romanesque style. His face pales slightly, and you can hear cascading footsteps coming closer. Nobana freezes up in front of you and stammers, trying to find the right words. As you look to see who entered the hall, a hand comes down on your shoulder, firm and slightly strained. “Oh, you must be the agent they sent from Public Safety.” The mystery man says, standing right behind you. You get a strong whiff of his cologne, musky and smokey. “Nobana, you can go off now, I’ll take it from here.” “Yeth- Yes thir! Sir!” Nobana nods frantically, looking like he’s about to piss himself out of fear (though that seems to be his default expression), and runs off, tripping over himself and falling as he does. 

You turn around and take a few steps back to face the man, unsure what to make of what just happened. He’s tall, broad-shouldered, and with a tapered waist. His black hair is tied back into a ponytail, a lock of it falling across his face. His tie is tucked into his shirt’s breast pocket, and you can see his muscles rippling underneath his clothing. A white button-up and slacks. It seems he’s the only adult here, and the only one in the church who isn’t Japanese.. If you had to guess, he could be anywhere from his mid to late thirties. Maybe forty. 

“I’m Barem, I do most of the work around here.” He says, holding out his hand for you to shake. You take it, a bit off guard, with how firm he is with shaking your hand. It feels like your entire arm is getting shaken with it. “Ah, yes, it’s nice to meet you. I just came to do a look around and make sure, uhm, that everything is up to code.” You say, looking up at him. His eyes are so dark that you can’t differentiate between his pupil and his iris. “Uhh, your tour guide, Nobana, said a few things that I have questions about.” You say, and Barem’s smile doesn’t falter. He puts his hands back on both of your shoulders, leaning forward. “Oh, don’t worry, he sometimes isn’t good at explaining things… We can talk, and I’ll answer any questions you have during the rest of the tour.” He muses reassuringly, though you’re starting to regret not pushing for a new buddy to be assigned to your case. 

You would later find that a good word to describe Barem would be levitous.

The tour is… something, to say the least. Barem dodges most of your inquiries, keeping a hand on your shoulder or back to keep you from going anywhere without him. He feels more like a car salesman than someone who runs a church. You’re new to the job and have minimal training, but you didn’t need to be an expert to see that something was up with him. If you weren’t being extra vigilant to make sure nothing was afoot, you might have been swayed by his friendly disposition and his attempt at a charming nature, just enough to ignore certain things. There’s something wrong with him. You couldn’t place your finger on what, but it was just something about his eyes, or maybe it was his choice of words, how close he was to you. Barem was overly familiar with you, which was strange in itself. It’s as if every moment with him was one building up to something, like you were holding your breath as the tension builds up in a horror movie, waiting for the jump scare that never comes.

There’s a peculiar tension as if Barem is just waiting for any reason to do something. In the back of your mind, there’s always a sense that he’s about to attack you whenever he suddenly curls an arm around your shoulders to pull you closer in the middle of his talking. Whenever his gaze meets yours, there’s something predatory lurking in his eyes. It’s like he’s intentionally trying to freak you out. Even if you put his eccentric behavior to the side, the church itself was still an issue. The more the tour went on, the more you began to suspect this church was a front for some sort of drug trade or money laundering scheme, there’s no way these people could be this fanatical about Chainsaw Man. Barem shows you to the chapel, with the pews being decorated with chainsaws, and even a statue of Chainsaw Man himself at the end. The chapel was to officiate marriages because people were getting married in the name of Japan's new hero. Barem left out a few details about that process, and you could tell he was being intentionally vague. He was damn proud of it too, subtly making you the butt of a joke that only he is in on.

 When you go to the bathroom for a small break, even the damn toilets are Chainsaw Man themed. There’s no way they could afford all of this unless it were from drug money, you think as you press the Chainsaw Man soap dispenser and begin to wash your hands. Maybe they’re part of the yakuza? No, that can’t be right… You step out of the bathroom to resume the tour, passing through the mostly empty cafeteria. It feels like you’re getting closer and closer to losing it when you see the menu serving “Chainsaw Man Flavored Soup”, whatever the hell that was.

“So, are you a fan of Chainsaw Man?” Barem asks as you’re both traversing the hallways of the building. Light shines through the windows, and on the opposite wall are taped-up drawings of Chainsaw Man. Most seem to be done by very young children. “He’s alright I guess, he really does make a mess of things though.” You say, shrugging. “Isn’t that part of what makes him so great? All the destruction he causes is the best part.” Barem laughs, and with each passing minute you begin to understand why this guy freaked out Nobana. “Seeing him fight devils, and get cut up and nearly killed, just to get back up and keep going, it’s amazing,” Barem says, and the way he grins sends a creeping feeling down your spine.

The rest of the tour isn’t anything eventful. No glaring issues, but there’s something wrong with this place. Barem wraps things up within the next hour. For a building with forty-seven floors, only around 10 of them have been refurnished, so he says. Though when on the tenth floor, you’re sure you saw a few teenagers, still in school uniform no less, coming down the stairs from the floors above. By the time it comes to a close, you’re back at the entrance with Barem. He puts a hand on your shoulder, leaning in as he talks to you. “Thanks for coming, if you ever want to become one with the church, you know where to find us.” Barem says, though stepping foot anywhere near this place was the last thing you wanted to do. You nod along and smile to be polite, and the small talk fizzles out pretty soon. “Before I leave– I need to go to the bathroom again.” You quickly add, and you can see that he’s straining to be nice. “Right, sure.” 

With that, you traverse down the hallway to the bathrooms, then walk right past them to the elevator. You press the button and once the elevator doors open, you scurry inside. It feels like they take forever to close. Anticipation curdles in you, and you wonder if this is a mistake. It goes up to 47 floors. You should just leave. Just tell your higher-ups that the place needs a second inspection - no, they’ll ask why you couldn’t get it right the first time. Just tell them it’s fine, everything is fine. The guides were just a bit weird, right? No, you can’t do that either. Not with a good conscience. You press the button to take you to the very top, deciding to check out there. Before you can give yourself a second to think, you press the button for the top floor.

The elevator ride up is nerve-wracking, and you feel a pit of dread in your stomach the whole way. There isn’t any soft elevator music, nor are the elevator lights very welcoming or bright. It seems like refurbishing the elevator wasn’t the church’s priority, it nearly got stuck in between the 33rd and 34th floors. As the elevator ride comes to a close, you pull out your handheld radio from an inner suit pocket. You fiddle with it for a few seconds, trying to reach through to anyone. The damn thing can barely get a signal. Either there’s something wrong with this building and being this high up, or Public Safety has made serious budget cuts.

You take some hesitant steps forward, the sound of your shoes hitting the tile floor echoing. The top floor is a descending hallway, with many doors leading to different rooms. You aren’t sure where you should even start. There aren’t any windows here, not to the outside and not to the inside of the rooms. The anxiety in you begins to simmer. You made it this far, it’ll be fine. Sure, you maybe should have contracted with a devil before going on your first mission, but they told you it was just a church—a glorified after-school club for today's youth. You keep these thoughts in your mind as you keep walking, looking for any door that stands out as a place to start. You think you can hear a second pair of footsteps, light and unassuming. When you stop walking and look behind you, no one is there. Forcing yourself to shake off the feeling of being watched, you decide to enter the room closest to you on your left. The plain wooden door has a single sticky note on it, reading “returning at 7.” in a scribbled font. It was barely 4 PM, so you either had 3 hours to get in and get out (which should have been more than enough time), or the note meant 7 AM. 

You enter the room, and it’s not exactly what you expected. It seems to be a slightly below-average employee break room. There’s a water cooler, a leather couch, and a few side tables. On the wall is a calendar, a corkboard, and a whiteboard. Two things stick out to you right away; the corkboard and what’s on the other side of the room, opposite the couches. A large desk with various computer monitors that all seem to display security footage. There are five monitors in total, how many security cameras did these people have? You focus on the corkboard first, which is littered with photos and scraps of paper pinned on. Some of the photos seem like professional shots, ones that would be used for a school ID or a driver's license. Most are high schoolers, others are Public Safety Devil Hunters. There’s a clock on the wall, the sound of its ticking serving as an auditory reminder that you ought to make this quick. You move to look at the computers, finding that the security footage covers more than the church. There was a live feed of the Public Safety Office, some people’s homes, and what seemed to be a school. Before you can even think about what it all means, the break room door opens, and Barem enters with a relaxed demeanor.

“You really shouldn’t go sneaking around, it’s rude.” 

You turn around to face him, your breath getting caught in your throat and for a few seconds, you forget how to function. Barem’s expression is neutral, if not amused, with how things have developed. He’s blocking the door, and though you aren’t completely incompetent, it’s still going to be a challenge to get past him. There’s a total lack of urgency from the man, it’s as though he’s unbothered that you’ve stumbled upon… whatever this is. Perhaps that’s it. He knows you don’t have enough information to do anything meaningful with your findings. 

“What is all of this?” You finally ask, clenching your jaw. If you pulled out your ID and raised your voice loud enough to tell him that he was under arrest, would he listen? Would your radio work this time, or would he catch on to your bluff? You really should have asked for someone to accompany you on this mission. The corners of Barem’s lips twitch into a knowing smirk, and the tension in the room is so thick not even a knife could penetrate it. You find yourself stuck, paralyzed by anticipation. You’re both waiting for the other to make the first move. “What do you mean?” Barem pretends to not understand what you’re so worked up about, still occupying the doorway. That, coupled with the lack of windows, makes the room all the more suffocating. 

“I should go.” You say after a heavy pause, and as you walk to the door, Barem surprisingly moves out of the way to let you pass. Walking into the hallway feels like a fresh of breath hair, but that air is quickly knocked out of your lungs. A large hand finds its way into your hair, yanking your head back before slamming it against the wall of the hallway.

-

You wake up on the floor, your head pounding and your shoulders having a dull ache. There’s something in your mouth, cloth and smelling of something familiar. Some cologne. It puts a bad taste on your tongue. The room is doused in a cold, fluorescent light. From what you can see, it’s the same break room you just tried to leave. It takes you a few minutes to gather your memories, from entering the church to going into the elevator, and…

Barem.

The devil himself stares down at you as if it was on cue that you regained consciousness. Your hands are zip-tied behind your back, though he left your feet alone. Barem grins uncannily, hands on his hips as he looks down at your helpless form. His tie is gone, now being used as the gag to keep you from cursing at him. He’s looking at you like you’re a piece of meat. “Glad to see you’re awake.” He quips. His eyes trail your body, looking for anything in your pockets that stands out, like a knife or a hidden gun. Even some keys could be a danger if you got your hands free. He gets down on the floor, squatting down on his haunches to get a better look at you. Your brows are furrowed and through the gag he’s put in your mouth he can hear your mewling and protesting. His eyes glaze over your rear and without warning, he reaches into your back pocket to pull out your wallet and your keys. Barem ignores your shrieking and the way your body jerks away from him, even after you’ve realized he isn’t going to cop a feel. He stands back up and opens your wallet to get a good look at your ID. Your full name, age, the date of your hiring, and all other personal information. “Ha, I was right, you are a new hire.” Barem grins, eyes returning to you.

You glare back at him, writhing on the ground to try and free your hands, the zip tie digging into the skin of your flesh. “C’mon, you can do it,” Barem says, mocking you with false encouragement. He laughs at his joke and your frustrated expression. You struggle for a bit longer, and Barem decides to show some mercy on your poor soul. He crouches down closer, forcing you to lay still on your back as his hands find your wrists. “Is it too tight? Here, I’ll loosen it for you.” He says, before tightening the zip tie to an unbearable degree. You let out a muffled shriek of pain as the sharp plastic tears and breaks your skin. Barem leaves the zip tie like that, giving you a pat on the shoulder. Barem pockets your belongings, his hand going to your hair and tugging harshly on it. He forces your head to turn at an uncomfortable angle so that you’re forced to look at him. 

His eerie grin is gone, replaced with a flat expression. “So, what do you think? Should I kill you?” He asks, his voice low and with no affect to his tone. “You nearly caused a lot of trouble for us. Didn’t anyone ever teach you not to stick your nose into other people’s business?” Barem scolds, as if you’re somehow in the wrong here for doing your job. He lets your head drop by releasing your hair and begins to walk around the room, going behind you and out of your sight. He’s off doing writing in a notepad to the side, occasionally glancing back at you. You twist and try to move onto your side to see what he’s doing. You feel like a beached whale in some aspect, and when Barem glances once more at you, the sight oddly intrigues him. Barem pauses in his writing to watch you with mild amusement as you try to get on your own two feet.

“You came to look at the computers, right?” Barem asks, leaning down and grinning at you. His disposition has suddenly returned to that creepy friendliness with little provocation. Before you can react, he’s already grabbing you up off the floor and sitting you down on his lap while he sits on his chair. You let out a muffled noise, squirming and trying to get away from him. It only seems to excite him, a low laugh coming from his throat.  One arm is curled around your chest, just above your breasts, so he isn’t touching you too inappropriately. His other is around your waist, keeping you pressed against him with your back to his chest. He holds you in place, having you watch the multiple monitors. Cameras around the church, which was now mostly empty save for a few kids staying overnight. Some cameras were around the parking lot, and a few more were in another building you didn’t recognize. Some were pointed at the Public Safety office, and another seemed to be in the hallway and entranceway of a high school. Barem adjusts you on his lap, having you now sit on his thigh, slotting it between your legs. It’s awkward, in more ways than one, but he doesn’t say anything. 

For a few seconds, it’s almost okay. The two of you remain still, Barem watching with amusement as your gaze darts from screen to screen, camera to camera. His hand shifts down to your hip, and his leg moves slightly. Up, then down, and he’s trying to move you against him, trying to create friction between his leg and your crotch. You catch onto it after a few moments, not realizing right away. Immediately, it sets off alarms in your head, and you nearly fall off of his lap entirely and onto the hard floor with how much it makes you nearly jump out of your skin. Barem easily catches you, guiding you back onto his lap. “Aha ha- you’re so jumpy; like a mouse. How did you even get hired?” He teases, moving you up so you’re properly sat on his lap now and not just on his thigh. “Your ears are ho,.” Barem remarks regarding their temperature, his fingers coming to feel the shell of your ear. He’s right, they are warm. He’s so close, you can feel his breath tickling your skin.

Not only that, but he can see from this angle your eyes welling up, and if you were anyone else he might have felt a twinge of disdain. It was a good look on you, though, and he almost pities you. “What do you think I should do with you? Do ya think you can keep your mouth shut and not tell your boss about what you saw today?” You nod, though Barem doesn’t seem convinced. The thought comes to him that you’d make a good house pet. You don’t seem that hard to train. How lucky is he, to get a young, fresh-faced devil hunter in his grasp? He doubts you’d be useful as a hostage or bargaining chip with Public Safety, but he’s sure he can find some personal use for you.

“Here, you want a better look?” He asks again, suddenly moving you off of his lap and bending you over the table, your face squished against the multitude of papers on the surface. Barem stands as he does this, caging you in with his erection pressed right up against your ass. One of his large hands finds its way into your hair, smoothing it over and petting your head, the other resting on your hip to keep you in place. You kick back at his shins, scuffing the leg of his pants with the bottom of your shoe. Barem only laughs, not reacting beyond that. “Oh, you’re cute, you’ve got lots of energy,” He says, moving his hands to the waistband of your slacks. He ignores your shrieking and repeated attempts to get away from him, his hands going over the curve of your ass, feeling up his new prize. “Maybe if you keep making all that noise, Chainsaw Man himself’ll hear you and come to your rescue.” 

The mobile phone on the desk suddenly begins to buzz and ring. The ringtone is a song from a commercial that was advertising Chainsaw Man steamed buns. Barem leans over you to reach for it, thus forcing the hard edge of the desk to dig into your flesh even more. You wince, and he flips open the phone and holds it up against his shoulder. “Yeah? What is it?” He says flatly, and you can’t hear what the person on the other end is saying. Barem is still touching you, his hand going from caressing your hair, back, and hips. “I’m kind of busy.” He says after a moment, and then falls quiet again as the person on the other line talks continuously. Whoever it is, they seem to be of equal ranking in the church. Barem sighs and looks up at the computer monitor, displaying the variety of security camera footage. “Yeah, alright, I’ll come down in a minute,” Barem concludes, not bothering to say goodbye as he hangs up the phone. 

With that, he sets the phone down on the desk. Barem takes you by the scuff of your neck and drags you over to the couch, unceremoniously pushing you onto it so that you’re lying on your back. “I’ll be back in a few minutes, maybe an hour,” Barem says; any enthusiasm he had for assaulting you now replaced with a blank stare. “You just stay here, alright? We can have more fun together once I get this taken care of.” With that, Barem leaves the room, and there’s an audible click when he closes the door behind it, now locking it from the outside. You’re trapped, forced to listen to the sounds of the clock ticking away, a constant reminder of the predicament you’ve found yourself in.

[pensando-thoughts]

Saw the fnaf movie and I want to have a talk cause I have all these thoughts about it and I haven’t felt this way since stranger things season 4 lol.

I’m just confused (?) cause like there was a lot of different pieces of the lore in just one movie. So like before I go into breaking down my thoughts I want to say what my expectations are before I saw this movie so there’s some understanding. I thought this movie was gonna give a cohesive big picture type story on the lore. I thought that since there was a rumor it was gonna be 5 movies, I was under the impression that this movie gonna lay the lore out. I was really hoping for a cohesive story.

So now the movie I liked parts of the movie I liked the fact that attention to detail on the lore and the fans were in mind. What I don’t like is the storyline they decided to do, just to simplify my feelings for people who haven’t seen the movie I ultimately thought that they put bits and pieces of the lore in the movie i don’t wanna say for no reason but it did make me go hmmm what just happened. I don’t think the story was…good?. The costume and filming, and actors did a good job! I really wanna emphasize that lol. Thank you to @raminbootss on tik Tok for posting a slid show of the lore for the games.

‼️Spoilers after this/ I essentially write an essay and ramble please read at your own discretion. ‼️

So I’m assuming people who’ve seen the movie are reading this, but I’m going to briefly write down the movies lore.

Mike and Abby are siblings, there was a third sibling called Garret

Garret is kidnapped from the woods by William Afton

Mike has ptsd because he was there’s at the kidnapping but can’t remember the kidnapper’s face (guilt)

Mike induces dreams to revisit the memory to force himself to remember the kidnapper’s face

Vanessa comes in is a cop and later is established as Aftons daughter

Afton kidnapped Garret and other children Vanessa helps Afton cover it up

It’s a stupid simplification, but this is just so it’s understandable. I’m gonna essentially attack this one by one. To me it doesn’t make sense why Garret was kidnapped in the woods by Afton specifically. I feel like it’s so random/unnecessary to have it in the woods because it’s outside of Aftons mo in the established lore. If the story is to have Mike have zero familiar ties to Afton I think a better route to just have Garret be kidnapped so that way Mike is projecting on to the ghost children as a way to have redemption for not saving Garret. The movie sets it up this way in the first half where it felt like there was gonna be this big reveal with maybe Mike having some sort of connection to the kidnapper. However Vanessa throws that all off with being Afton’s daughter. Like Fanf 4 they use the concepts of dreams and memories cool nothing wrong with that I think that it was a good way for the ghost children to communicate with mike. My biggest grief I think is that Afton is controlling the ghost children. I think it would’ve been so much better to have the children ask Mike for help to find peace. This also would’ve been a better way for Mike’s character to deal with his grief of losing his brother cause now he can move on.

Moving on to Vanessa, I think that the introduction to Vanessa is done too early. Vanessa’s character in this movie is a caretaker to the animatronics because she feels guilty that her dad killed these kids. Which is fine I don’t mind this being a thing since it’s up to debate on security breach being cannon or not. I just think that the setup of Vanessa is done poorly maybe it’s the fact she was a cop where she honestly had no business being at Freddy’s instead of doing her job before the reveal of her being Afton’s daughter. They could’ve made her the morning shift security guard I think that would’ve made better sense cause now she can have a way to talk to Mike. She’s just is suspicious off the bat when she’s a cop, and can’t establish trust with Mike. I think they’re was a better way for her to have a redemption because Mike and her share a similarity, the both share guilt of not doing something to help these kids that died.

Let’s get into Afton so the set up for him is actually great because if I remember correctly during the beginning of the game’s release a theory did float around that maybe phone guy is the killer so he had a great set up I just don’t understand why the reveal of him being Afton is done so early. On one side I understand the fact that everybody knew that Matthew lillard was already gonna be Afton from the moment the trailer is revealed. It’s hard to make that twist be entertaining when the audience knows what you are going to do. On the other hand I don’t think Afton was utilized properly. So many different routes could’ve been taken. Also why did Afton kidnap Garret in the woods??? Anton’s m.o is he kidnaps children from the pizzeria in the bunny suit which they kept in the movie for the five children why kidnap Garret? He wasn’t even stuffed in a suit. In my opinion the movies opening scene should’ve been taken place in Freddy’s. This is blumhouse they’ve done horror they’re could’ve been a really strong suspense scene of watching this kid get kidnapped or seeing this kid get in the suit literally anything and really playing off the audience’s anxiety. If you do it this way you can still have Mike relive this memory. Anyways it’s revealed at the end of this movie that Afton is controlling the ghost children with a drawing so that they do as they’re told. Which like sure okay? I understand that they wanted to put drawings to be involved but I don’t know if I buy it. They also just kill Afton how he’s established to be killed in a spring lock suit how are you gonna set up a sequel that way? There is no build up or like finally you get what you deserve. The bad guy we watch died and sure he says I will come back but like…idk I think ultimately it doesn’t make me want to see a sequel because they’re was no cliffhanger or suspense. The vibe is just off. Matthew did such a good job though that phone scene really hyped up everything.

I tried talking about this to my sister but she said that they wanted to open this up to newer audiences. I think that’s lame because when the first game got released the hype about it was the mystery what is the bite of ‘87 who killed these kids, THE LORE. This movie doesn’t do that it answers all the questions in the first movie into a pretty little bow of oh Afton did it and now the ghost children kill him the end. The video-game went viral proving itself that the story set up will bring in a new audience that mikes background had to be changed. I feel like Mike is the catalyst for Afton to be caught so for it to be changed is a really huh moment for me.

[loveaffaire]

OK OK OK!! SO I SAW THIS IN MY REELS!! how about a tom holland or peter Parker x reader (u choose) where they both are arguing over something that tom/peter did by mistake (not cheating tho) and tom/peter just doesn’t know what to say so he just screams out her name and continues to ramble his mistake and her how sorry he is.......BUT WHEN HE SCREAM HER NAME HE ACTUALLY SAID Y/N Y/M/N HOLLAND (or Parker)

and reader is just like all shocked and blushing and she just kisses him to shut up his rambling and it’s all cute fluffy with apologies and cute overall heart melting! I hope you write this I love your work❤️❤️❤️

His Last Name Next To Mine

Pairing: Tom Holland x reader

Warnings: Arguing, controlling family issues, angst, some cute fluff.

Word count: 1.4k

A/N: I think Tom is someone who will definitely have that slip up lol. I wrote this at 3am and i haven’t proof-read it so yeah, I hope you still like it though<3

“I can’t believe you did that, Tom” you snarled as you walked through the apartment door, almost shutting the door on Tom’s face in the process.

You were so angry, you were livid. You’ve just come back from a dinner party at your parents and your lovely boyfriend has blurted out something he shouldn’t have.

“I said I am sorry!” Tom said sharply as he locked the door behind him, kicking off his shoes near the shoe rack.

“No, sorry doesn’t cut it! I told you to not tell them and then you just slip up like that?” you yelled from across the living room with your hands up with your hair from frustration as you looked at your boyfriend with wide eyes.

“Yes I made a mistake,” he yelled back, now getting a little angry with all the fuss,”I told them that we’re moving away to New York and you’re taking that new job because I slipped! It wasn’t intentional!” he loosened up his tie and started walking towards you.

“Don’t come near me Tom, I’m really mad at you” you whispered angrily as you tried to calm yourself down. You pulled a chair out and sat on it, keeping your palms flat on the cold table.

Tom stopped right in his tracks, “I don’t know why you’re so angry, you were gonna tell them anyway right, baby?”

You scoffed as you looked up at him, “yes, that’s correct, I was going to tell them myself which you ruined!”

You pushed the chair back as you stood up, your heels clicking on the hard floor as you made your way to the bedroom. Tom followed you with a stony look on his face.

“Y/N, don’t you walk out on me when we’re talking- hey!”

You banged the bedroom door as you walked into the bedroom, almost breaking the thin necklace as you removed it from your neck. You heard the bedroom door slowly opening.

“Don’t bang doors in my face, Y/N” he said with his eyebrows raised, nose flaring with anger.

You took a sharp turn, facing him, you said, “you know what’s your problem, Tom-“

“Yeah, tell me what’s my problem” he cut you off this time as he stood close to you, trapping you between his hard chest and the wall behind you.

“Oh, I will tell you what your problem is,” you narrowed your eyes at him, pushing his chest away and stepping aside. Tom didn’t stop you, he always respected your boundaries, even when you both were arguing.

“I’m angry because you told them we’re moving away when I was planning to tell them that when we have already shifted! You know how controlling they can be; how they get in my head and now they will try to do it again. I don’t want them to control me anymore, Tom!” You snapped as your eyes started to get wet.

It was true, you parents were always a little too involved in your life and as a 26 year old, you hated it. You kept things from them and only told them when it was done with, you felt that it was the only way to have some privacy.

Tom knew it all too well. He knew how controlling they were and how they tried to get in your head. Hearing you express this as you looked at him with teary eyes broke his heart as he tasted guilt on his tongue.

“Baby, I’m sorry. Listen, come here-“

“And I hate how you’re making it look like I’m making a big deal out of this by yelling at me!” You stomped your feet and shook your fists like a little kid but you were so frustrated, it didn’t matter.

You slowly stepped away from him as you clutched your head, you felt a headache coming.

“Baby,” Tom huffed, “you know I hate it when you walk away from me during an argument-“

You turned on your heels as you reached for the bathroom door, twisting it open as you quickly walked inside and oh boy, Tom decided that he has had enough of you walking away in the middle of his sentences.

“Wait- Y/N Y/M/N HOLLAND YOU COME BACK HERE RIGHT NOW!”

You heard the door shut behind you as you stood cold in your tracks, your fists opening up in shock. In a daze, you turned around and slowly unlocked the door and peeked outside. Tom stood there cold in his tracks with his mouth slightly open in shock as his forehead glistened because of the thin layer of sweat. You both looked at each other with wide eyes.

“What did you s-say?” You whispered as you blinked slowly, waiting for him to answer.

Tom opened his mouth and then closed it, no words coming out as he waved his hands around in panic, “I said Y/N Y/M/N Y/L/N” he said quickly.

“My last name sounds nothing like whatever you said but it did sound a lot like your last name. . .” You said cautiously as you took small steps towards him.

“I- okay fine, I said Holland. Please don’t be mad” he whimpered as he bit his bottom lip, clasping his hands together.

“Why would I be mad?” you said softly, you hated seeing him scared and right now, he looked terrified.

“I don’t know, I don’t know,” he blabbered as he closed the distance between you two, wrapping his arms around your body, “you know when you think about something a lot in your head and that thing kinda slips out of your mouth? Yeah that is what happened again and I know I pissed you off before and I don’t want to do it again, I’m so sor-“

You softly pressed your lips to his, he got the hang of it pretty quickly as his lips started to move against yours in an instant. You felt his tongue making its way to yours as you pulled back, your face still close to his. Tom frowned as he pouted his lips, asking for more.

“Do you think about it often?” you asked gently as you brushed his hair away from his forehead, “like-like my name with your um last name?” You felt shy, your cheeks turned rosy as you looked down briefly.

“I think about it all the time” he said rather quickly, resting his forehead to yours.

He bumped his nose against yours playfully, your bodies clinging to each other. In that moment you and Tom were one.

“I know we’ve been together for just 2 years and we’re so young but I can’t help it” he mumbled against your lips as your eyes fluttered, “can’t help it if you look like an angel, can’t help it if I wanna kiss you the moment I wake up, just can’t help myself”

You embraced him in your hold, lips roughly meeting his in a passionate kiss. Butterflies bursting in your stomach from his little speech. His tongue successfully made its way to yours this time, gently picking you up to place you on the bed as he gripped your body.

Tom felt you gasp as he kissed you again, you moved your body away from his hold gently as he loosened his grip. Tears streamed down your face.

“Y/N, what’s wrong? Was it something I said?” he panicked as he cupped your face. You sat up as Tom supported his body on his knees, you shook your head.

“No no. I’m just- I’m so overwhelmed, I love you” you said as you laughed softly, feeling a little embarrassed now as you worried him for no reason at all.

“Oh baby” he signed as he kissed your cheeks, “I feel awful about tonight though, I should have been more careful” he frowned his brows as he looked at you.

“I’m sorry I yelled at you” you sniffled as you choked on your words.

He admired you as you dried your wet eyes, how gorgeous you looked even when you were crying tears of joy.

“I have a crazy idea” he whispered, brushing your hair out of your face, he spoke up again before you could say anything, “maybe we should get married”

To Tom’s surprise, you hadn’t freaked out, rather quickly nodded your head. Tom almost pulled a nerve when you told him that you were thinking the same thing. The next morning, you picked out a pretty white dress and he fixed his tie, you both walked out of the court with his last name next to your first name and you realised that you’ve never been this happy before.

A/N: so. . . yeah? Don’t know how I feel about this, I also have absolutely no idea how court marriages work.

Leave some feedback below if you liked this, would appreciate it if you can like/reblog! Thank you!!

© loveaffaire

[4dtk]

jaehyun as a bf

anon: “your writing brings me butterflies i love it you are so underrated!!!!! would love to request a jaehyun bf headcanons (like the one you did of mark <3)” thank you for the kind words anon <333 hope you enjoy this one!

(a bit of a plug lol but check out NCT 127's ideal r/s headcanons in this post!! i appreciate you checking it out! <3)

brief mentions of sex, but nothing explicitly nsfw!

likes to talk about music with you

especially jazz. there’s a plethora of songs out there with different renditions and sometimes he likes to ramble about who’s rendition he likes best

would play the piano for you if you asked, just maybe not after schedules or something. but usually when you’re free or alone together in the room, he likes you to sit beside him to listen to him play

you guys like to play a little game where he’ll play the chords and you play like a random note to create blobs of music

even if you don’t know how, the way the session always dissolves into giggles is his favourite thing in the world

if you know how to play the piano that’s great too!! jaehyun just likes the unexpected notes that come out since there’s no set melody in his mind

jaehyun needs to have some part of his body on yours at all times. like he has to hold your hand all the time, or a finger hooked around your backpack, or an arm around your waist.

at least when you’re together he does it very often and he’s just. obsessed with you lmfao

it’s also the reason he buys a promise ring when he’s sure of you as a significant other so you always have a part of him with you (his love)

would buy you those lockets for you to put pictures inside. he doesn’t care where you wear it though, around your neck, wrist, ankle, as long as the locket is on your person

he clings onto you like crazy in the mornings. jaehyun’s a heavy sleeper and likes to hug you on his side, so you’re always having trouble trying to pry him off of you in the morning

a bit nsfw: he likes morning lazy sex lol, ngl. jaehyun adores the rawness of your relationship in the morning and the sleepiness in your eyes when you’re gently pushing him away. he knows you don’t mean it but he makes sure you really want it first

loves the sunlight kissing your skin and the slow, gentle movements

so so intimate, he prefers it to the rougher forms of sex, but sometimes he doesn’t have that luxury since they leave for schedules quite often in the wee hours of dawn

for cuddling sense, jaehyun likes it when you’re under his arm and cuddled into his side. classic position but he dies every time inside when you look up at him and there’s this clueless look you have. has the biggest smile on his face after and you have to repeat the stuff you said bc he’s too distracted by how your eyes shine

second hot favourite (more of when you’re making out) is when you’re straddling him. nothing sexual, just like you on top of him when you’re kissing and stuff. he digs it when you’re pulling away for oxygen and he has to lift his body to reach for your lips again

gets flustered from kissing, but doesn’t show it. if he’s found a way to suppress the crazy crimson on his ears (which i doubt) then he will but his words will always contradict his expression

jaehyun can say “are you nervous, y/n?” with a smirk but his ears keep giving him away!!!!

mfer’s hands are shaking too when he trails it over your body. in disbelief you’re his.

sometimes shamelessly moans into the kiss LOL, not too loud but he whines when you pull away, and has to kiss you breathless again

when you kiss him, expect like a long-lasting kiss. doesn’t mind small pecks and stuff but he’ll want to savour your lips a little longer than a mere peck

jaehyun likes your neck too. when you’re hugging his face is always in your neck, placing small little butterfly kisses

you need to look out for him, always. mans always tripping over something at some point. it’s become more frequent now that he has you and my god he’s so unable to keep his eyes off of you that he trips over simple things. he once tripped over nothing

on the daily when he’s not tripping over you, he’s clumsy in a sense where he drops food on the table. he once struggled to tie up his growing hair into a mini ponytail bc it was just too little hair. the hair tie slipped from his fingers and shot itself into your face - those kinds of small small mishaps

it’s endearing but sometimes you can’t help but laugh at him

likes to take you out on impromptu dates. dates that are close by and easy to plan (?) i guess.

not saying jaehyun is a lazy boyfriend but he likes the more candid dates where you decide what to do as you go along. of course if it’s a big day like your anniversary or birthdays then he’d want to plan something out.

other than that, he just either lets you choose the places to go there or you two decide along the way. he doesn’t want to impose options for you and pressure you. if he’s being honest, he wouldn’t know where to go either lol so he just follows wherever you bring him

laughs so much when he’s with you. giggles, deep laugh, whatever you name it. your relationship is very light-hearted and he finds that he’s the one laughing more when you deliver jokes even tho he wants to make you laugh too

i can’t lie… his jokes can be dry sometimes i’m sorry jaehyun 😭 so he backs it up with laughter and has to catch his breath sometimes bc he finds it really funny

you’re not laughing at the joke, rather at his laugh so you might have to tell him that some way or another bc he’ll just keep making bad jokes i’m sorry y’all

he can’t handle the suuuuuper cheesy physically affectionate films or series (with shitty plot) but i feel like if the story’s interesting enough he’ll pay attention. likes bittersweet films too, i feel, gets him thinking

doesn’t mind cliched plots (fake dating / idealist girl meets realist boy / idk any others lol) but would propose something at the end that he thinks will make the movie/series more interesting

jaehyun likes to share his theories with you

unironically wants to learn the la la land tap dance scene with you. he ALWAYS hums city of stars too, no matter what. idk why but it sticks to him, in bed, in breakfast, when he’s doing something random

he did it once on the radio and he received a text from you in break that told him he was humming along to the song

with that said, jaehyun wants to try out the stuff in the rain quite a bit. making out, dancing, lying down, running, he likes that fascination that society has with doing things in the rain

doesn’t like it too much that he’ll get soaked, but as long as you’re with him and willing to do it, he’s all for it

jaehyun would def want kids in the future. wants to dote on them and buy them stuff and whatnot. wants to see them running around the house with laughter while you both struggle to contain the bursts of excitement they have

doesn’t care for the dynamic much. if he’s the one to stay at home to take care of them while you work, he can work with it. if it’s the other way round, he’s okay too

he just worries that if he’s still involved with the entertainment industry, you might have to take a back seat since he’ll be the one earning the money, and he doesn’t want babysitters either.

heart is so so full when he comes back home and you’re just playing with the kids, or singing them to sleep. any sight of you with him is enough to make him melt into a puddle

HAS to hold them even if they’re asleep. wants to always have them close to him while he nudges you to shower or get the food ready.

like jaehyun, he would wanna meet someone in a vinyl shop or bookstore. he knows it’s cliched but the thought of meeting someone when you’re buying something is exciting. anything unexpected for him, he welcomes it

the next few are just random, miscellaneous headcanons: he likes to see you in his clothes, preferably with nothing underneath. just his shirt lol. cheeky man

jaehyun likes it when you shower together (again, nothing sexual, just likes the domesticity)

likes it when you fall asleep on him

will never stop gushing about you to his parents, first time you met them they’re like “he’s told us so much about you!” and he really did

feels comfortable in your presence, no makeup, messy hair, no need for a perfect bod. he’s just jaehyun. jung yuno if you will

adores it when you call him “lover” i mean boyfriend is good, significant other is good, but lover is just chef’s kiss

it is a bit cheesy if you think about it, so it’s not often that you say it. when you do say it in songs when you’re singing it to him, he can’t stop smiling

plays lover, you should’ve come over when he’s on tour bc it’s the closest thing he can get to a replica of how he feels for you

and when jaehyun falls asleep to the song, all he can remember is your honey voice singing it to him. he’ll just have to hold onto it before he can see you again

<3

[applesontheground]

teaser 📞

finally. here’s the scream fic i’ve been picking at since like october. think it’s finally time i gave you guys one of these!

i’m a little sad there’s not a lot of mickey content, and while i do understand why that is (see: what the fuck is that motive), i have also chosen to be the weirdly devoted change that i wish to see, lol!

i hope you guys enjoy this, it was fun to finally tie it up after bouncing around with it for awhile. this was initially inspired by a freaky ass hallway i had to walk through all last semester, so if that part seems a little vivid...believe me, it is.

also, super special thanks to @bisexual-horror-fan​​ for beta reading!! your feedback (& listening to me ramble about scream 2) means a lot to me! ❤

SFW | Word Count: 2,629 | Mickey Altieri x GN Reader

contains: canon typical/being chased & threatened with a knife, references to violence on college campus

🎼: x, x

Why you had let Randy talk you into taking a night class was beyond you right now.

You felt your stomach drop and your blood to start to curdle as you found yourself anywhere but in the right direction, winding down another corner and coming face to face with more unrecognizable classrooms. A tickle went down your spine as your shoulders sagged, and an awful thought came across your mind: Were you even in the right building? The same rush went straight back up, and it made you snap to look over your shoulder. A resounding silence was right on top of you, and only stared back as you waited for something to give under the yellowed lights of the hallway.

It wasn’t helping that there could be a stab-happy asshole on the loose, but you felt that was beside the point. It was information that had dawned just that morning, full of speculation since it was solely from the mouths of classmates rather than any solid source. You weren’t even sure where the first mention of it originated, no one able to say which sorority or wayside student who had too much time on their hands started calling it something more than an unfortunate accident. Even now, though, you noticed how thin attendance was from the sheer power of a single rumor.

Staff hadn’t addressed it – which was why you were here along with a fraction of the other kids who were trusting enough to sign up for something so late into the evening and then actually show up. You had been wandering this building for what felt like ten minutes now, and the silence was making every dead end and wrong turn feel like a mistake.

The supposed victims had only been found that morning, and with a wary knowledge that everyone would panic should they be told that there was something similar to what happened at Woodsboro rearing its head, no one was rushing to call it murder. Turning down the left side of the hallway, you mused that it’d be a shock if you heard the name in anything above a whisper from other kids.

“Give them a few days, they’ll spin it into something different. This isn’t going to be another ghost-faced killer.”

Being a second-semester Junior as well, you had already arrived at the point of just wanting to get the hell out of this place, so you guessed you were also one to risk it for that. Your boyfriend had told you there was really nothing to worry about, but of course the smug fuck who didn’t have to be here would say that.

The smirk that came from remembering you had a boyfriend could even break through the anxiety, and you huffed off the fear in favor of thinking about him. Who were you kidding? You loved that bastard.

Mickey had always had a thing for the quiet ones, the kids who weren’t really looking for the spotlight but also weren’t total shadow players either. Where you fell on that scale was beyond you, but it had to have been something that he just couldn’t leave be. You hadn’t really realized what was happening until he was going out of his way to sit with you in class, throwing pencils at you when he knew you were spaced during lectures, and even alerting your friends enough to make them inclined to shoo him off. They knew a flirt when they saw one, and he didn’t impress them.

It wasn’t all on him, of course. What started as you innocently accompanying him to his classes on days you could walk together turned into joining him at his dorm for a drink every once and awhile, and then that turned into being pinned against his thin as paper bedroom wall, making enough noise from his teeth against your pulse for practically everyone else in the dorm to realize you two had become an item – even before you did. What could you say? You were on the gullible side, and he sure knew how to play with that. After eight months, you were forming enough hope in him that he wouldn’t toy with that.

You stopped outside of the restroom and cursed under your breath. It seemed that you were also gullible enough to keep trying to find this stupid fucking classroom. You couldn’t stand the anticipating silence anymore, so you shouldered through the door beside you, escaping in favor of the quiet of the restroom instead.

Maybe I should go up the stairs the next time I see them. The classroom might be mislabeled, or on another floor…

Running the cold water on your hands, your eyes dared lift up to the mirror. A click of one of the stalls’ latches made your train of thought pause, and the door swinging open by itself nearly sent you jumping into the sink.

You had seen photos of the “ghost-faced killer” – unmasked, they were a tag team of high school seniors Billy Loomis and Stu Macher, and they had terrorized their graduating class half to death before being taken down -- not by the cops, but another student. You had bumped into her a few times, but in all honesty she was like you. In that, she didn’t really like the attention that came from being intertwined with the scandal.

You could understand that enough. No matter what end you were on, you wouldn’t want to be caught with a killer of that kind of caliber, either.

As the figure stepped into view from where they had been waiting, this looked to be the getup from what you could remember from press releases (not to mention the poor excuse for publicity that was being shown at the movies). You’d seen that long, hollow face before in much less unsettling lighting, painted white and terrorizing every other frat party that Mickey would take you to, and on a night like this you were less than impressed.

You shook your hands off and scoffed, “Oh, very funny.” Turning to face the real thing, you twinged, “Kind of sick timing, but that’s not my place to judge, I guess. Night classes, too?” You laughed, but the way they didn’t even seem to move at your question made your smile falter. The next joke couldn’t form in your head, and after making eye contact with the lamenting, oval-shaped eyes of that mask, your breath constricted as you stared harder at the costume. It was pristine, not an inch of skin showing as he turned his head to follow the cascading steps you took towards the door. He even wore the gloves, something kids often blew off. It wasn’t worth the commitment to a full getup when it was just a gag, a joke between boys to make girls pull the terrifying face from the assailant and squeal in amusement when it was some good looking guy from Alpha-Beta-Bullshit, as your dormmates would sometimes call it.

Your entire body braced now because it was obvious. This was too polished to be a stupid joke by a stupid frat boy. Judgement wasn’t rational, but you also figured that risking it wasn’t worth it either. You gave him one final smile, and when there was still no reaction you picked up as much speed as you could to turn and barrel out the door, using your own momentum to rocket full speed ahead.

The boots came after you first, pounding on your heels as you yelped. “Jesus-! Dude, what the hell are you doing!?” You looked back, seeing the knife in his hand that was now glinting under fluorescent strips overhead, flashing silver white and grey as he rushed after you. When your fleeting glances couldn’t discern between a gag blade and a real one, you shed your bag and threw it behind you with a roll off your fingers.

Hitting their knees perfectly, they stumbled over it and hit the floor face first with a resounding thud, trails of the cloak fluttering up before sinking with him. You hissed air through your teeth, now turning a corner. The realization that the directions were still not coming to mind only made you curse loudly.

“FUCK! HELP!”

Your shoes squeaked loudly as you slowed against the linoleum, but it only caused a gloved hand to finally curl around the back of your shirt collar. You screamed again as they walked you to the wall, the terrifying stretched visage of the mask now inches away from your nose and shaking under the roll of your struggling. You tried to pull your arms out to land on them, but the sight of the blade rearing its head again made you freeze. They had a weapon, you didn’t; that was enough to get you to only glare and shudder against the cool painted drywall settling into the back of your head. Turning their wrist, the cold edge settled against the spot one might poke to feel your pulse, right under your jaw. You locked eyes with the sockets of the mask again, and then squinted hard as the sensation went down from your jaw, tickling the length of your neck with a warning nick near your collarbone.

The hiccup of pain in your throat exploded into a name, and you stared at the mask as it fell from your shaking lips. The last person you would have thought about should this moment pass and your throat be slit. “Mickey-“

Your plea triggered a deep flicker of their chest, something that could be taken as a breathless chuckle. The wandering blade fell still across your neck, and then immediately dropped from your body. The pang of pressure lingered and feeling what would be a little mark against the stretch of your neck made your cold blood immediately surge back to a boil. You groaned, daring to shove against their chest with driving heels of your hands. It felt as though they were allowing you to get away, only turning their head as you shot out from under the robe-clad arm that had kept you penned in.

Your legs were scrambling to run, tripping for a few feet before swiveling into the stairwell. You were the one who fell to the floor now, letting out another pained noise and sprawling just before the long descent of stairs. Staring over the dusty edge of the first step and down the way, your arms braced the floor and you let out another pathetic noise.

“[Y/N].” The voice called, almost sickening in its purr. Like it was coming off of a smug bout of laughter, the tone only heard in what you could recall of the retelling on what the ghost-faced killer would say before he closed in on the victims, “What’s the matter? Am I playing too rough?”

The silence that followed made you almost throw yourself down the stairs if it meant getting away, watching the open doorway that you had scrambled through while catching your breath. Your chest screamed for relief; hands gathered dirt from the floor as you dragged yourself to the very edge of the flight and to try and prepare to run again. Your eyes weren’t watering, but they were blown so wide to the point of pain. No other footsteps followed after, and no other voices were coming from any direction. Not from the hall, not from the other side of the stairwell.

“…[Y/N]? Dude, where are you?”

A different voice spoke, breaking the moment and making you jolt. It was one you knew, your heart leaping to thump like it was going into shock. That name came to mind again, circling your head as you pulled yourself up, a hand gluing to the stair rail and your mind rushing faster than your legs could take you to the doorway.

“Mickey!?”

You shot back into the hall to see him turn on his heels and face you from the other end of the corridor. “What are you doing here!?” You gasped, “You have to leave, we have to leave!” You ran after him, glancing over your shoulder and trying to absorb every detail that you could. Once again you were only facing the silence you had known this hall to give outside of what you had just encountered. You babbled, “Mick, there was this fucking guy, he w-was-“

“Okay, how about we breathe before we talk?” Your eyes fixed on the bag – your bag – sitting on one of his shoulders. When he got close enough, his hands immediately took hold of your arms. The phantom of the figure who had been standing with you just minutes ago made you flinch as he came close. His voice was soft, the same easy roll that was turned up to eleven to try and make you stop shaking, “It’s alright, take your time before you start sounding off.” When you stopped talking, shoulders falling up and down as you stared past his shoulders and down the other end of the hall, he snorted, “Baby cakes, you look like you just caught the football team fucking each other or something.”

You stopped watching for the jet black costume to pop out in your peripheral again, meeting his keen eyes. He shrugged at you, “I haven’t seen anyone else here besides you. Are you sure you’re in the right building for this stupid night class?” Shaking your head at him, lost to what your mind should be concerned on for a moment, he pulled an arm around the back of your neck and sighed, “Look, how about we just get out of here? You’ll have another night to find this stupid class.”

His and your footsteps echoed as he walked alongside you, grinning while you struggled to wash the sour look off your face. Part of you became too petrified to look back down the corridor, wondering if there was a third pair of shoes falling into line with yours. Even with the safety gained from Mickey coming out of left field, you were still unable to realize where the exit was in this building. Everything had moved so fast that you didn’t even know where you ended up.

He would know how to get out of here, at least. How else would he have found a way in? You had to stop still again, not only to catch your breath but to realize that there was a feigning comfort to that. He had sought you out without complaint thus far, and that was a lot for him.

You clutched your bag's strap now as he caught the confused glare, your face still unable to let go of its terrified countenance just yet. He tipped his head down to meet your eyes, lips closed but his tongue obviously digging into his cheek. "...What if I got you that chicken that you said you'd have sex with if you could?"

"What? I didn't say that." You gasped, melting into laughter as he rose his eyebrows at you. He flashed his teeth, nodding slowly as he insisted, "Yes, you did. Said it clear as day at that hole-in-the wall place Randy made us go to last week. Made the entire place look at us like we had just committed murder."

"Was..." You finally took a last look over your shoulder, the fear thoroughly sliding from your body as you turned back to him and whispered, "Was I drunk?"

He rolled his eyes, giving an exasperated glance to the ceiling, "So fuckin' hammered. Now come on." You pressed harder into his side, laughing with him as he pulled you down another turn, hand secured to your hip.

No masked marathon runner with a knife could shatter what security that was giving you.