#i'm trying my best to get myself sorted out like i can't keep living like this

[solpng]

good evening beautiful phone app ppl i am back

[plushri]

You know what? I just have to believe it will be good and I will be able to make it good. I can make it good. I can make the most out of it. I have so much to be grateful for and I will be happy

[roosterforme]

The Younger Kind Part 44 | Rooster x Reader

Summary: Bradley swallows his pride and seeks out a conversation with Admiral Simpson, but he's surprised by the response he gets. You keep everyone on their toes, and you do it so effortlessly, Bradley knows it's time to go shopping. And he uses Skittles as the perfect cover.

Warnings: Swearing, angst, fluff, smut, and age gap (18+)

Length: 4000 words

Pairing: Single dad!Bradley "Rooster" Bradshaw x babysitter!female reader

Check out my masterlist for more! The Younger Kind masterlist.

When Bradley parked at work a little early on Monday, he sat in the Bronco for a few extra minutes. He had just witnessed you and Noah making breakfast together, and it was making it really hard to be away from you right now. When he walked into the kitchen, you were brewing coffee and singing the dinosaur song with his son while the two of you spread that weird avocado stuff that you liked so much on some toast. He had started to love it, too, and Noah would eat anything you made. 

He removed his aviators and pinched the bridge of his nose. There was so much he wanted to get done this week, including looking at a few engagement rings, but he knew better than to make any sort of excuses to get some time alone. That had nearly backfired on him when he went to get Skittles. He was going to have to get creative somehow.

When he pulled out his phone to call the animal shelter about getting Skittles' cast removed, he froze. Across the parking lot, Nat and Javy were both getting out of his car. "Interesting," he muttered to himself as he watched his best friend groping their coworker, and he grimaced. He'd already seen too much. 

"Hello, this is the San Diego shelter. How can I help you?"

Bradley nearly dropped his phone; he'd forgotten he was making the call. "Yeah, hi. I need to schedule an appointment to have my dog's cast removed?"

"Oh! Are you talking about the Yorkie?"

He smiled as he climbed out onto the already hot pavement. "Yeah. Skittles. I'm hoping she has sufficiently healed."

"Why don't you stop in on Wednesday and we can check her out."

"Sounds good, thanks," he replied, following Nat and Javy at a very conservative distance. But apparently he wasn't cautious enough. 

"So," Nat sighed once Bradley joined her in the hangar, "you saw Javy and I in the parking lot." It wasn't a question, so he decided to just nod and roll his eyes in response. "Oh, come on, Rooster. I'm just having some fun."

"Look at him," Bradley muttered, glancing to where the man in question was smiling at Nat. "Are you serious right now? You want to make him cry or something?"

Now she was the one rolling her eyes. "I'm not taking advice from you. You're historically terrible at dating."

"I'm doing a pretty good job now," he said, smiling as he thought about you.

"You can't even get Cyclone off your girl."

Bradley covered his face with one big palm. "You noticed that?"

Nat laughed. "Everyone at the botanic gardens on Saturday night noticed that."

"Fuck," he groaned. "If she wasn't so young and so fucking hot, I wouldn't be about to embarrass myself by trying to get him to let me fly in the air show."

She just shook her head as she reached for her helmet and muttered, "Oh, cry me a river."

"Hey." Bradley turned just in time to see Javy greeting the two of them like a puppy looking for Nat's attention. He was honestly worse than Skittles at the moment. "The guys are talking about a beach day this weekend. You know, since the summer is ending."

"We don't need to do another beach day. We live in San Diego," Nat replied as she sipped the coffee she wasn't supposed to have inside the hangar. "It's the same season all year round."

Javy laughed like she was a comedian, and Bradley looked back and forth between the two of them, completely baffled by this dynamic. There's no way you and he made a couple this wild. 

"Yeah, but it's still the end of August," Javy said, now smiling at Nat as if she was the most adorable thing in the world. "Rooster, you can bring your girl and your kid. It'll be fun."

"You know what," he replied, "I think I'll go if Nat goes."

Then Bradley strolled away as they started arguing, because he saw Admiral Simpson on his way to the tower. He just needed to get Cyclone alone for a few minutes, swallow his pride, and try to head Jake off for the air show. The opportunity arose after lunch when Bradley caught him checking his phone outside the rec room door.

"Admiral Simpson, sir," he greeted before grinding his back teeth while he thought about you. "May I have a word?"

Cyclone glanced up before pocketing his phone, a look of vague amusement on his face. "Lieutenant. What can I do for you?"

"It's about the upcoming air show. Sir. I was hoping you could tell me if you'd made selections regarding who would be flying in it."

His look of amusement grew. "I have not. I believe that was on my agenda for today or tomorrow." He paused before adding, "I've been meaning to thank you for that glass of bourbon on Saturday night. Woodford Reserve is one of my favorites."

Bradley remained unflinching. Although he had no idea what Admiral Simpson was talking about, he thought it better to simply agree with him. "Yes. The Woodford Reserve." 

He nearly took a step backwards when the other man started laughing. "You'll have to thank your girlfriend for me, too. And I'm assuming the reason you're here is because you want to fly in the air show?"

"Yes...sir," Bradley replied slowly, feeling very off balance now that Cyclone was being so agreeable. 

Still chuckling, he said, "I'll see what I can do," before turning and walking away. 

Once he was out of earshot, Bradley pushed through the door to the rec room as he muttered, "What the fuck was that?"

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

It was almost fun for you to pick Noah up from daycare now. Not that you would ever admit that out loud. But the enjoyment you found in the way Casey pouted at you was a bit of a guilty pleasure, and besides, you got to have Noah greet you like you were the most exciting and interesting person in the world.

"Mommy!" he called out as he ran across the lobby and into your arms. "Guess what my craft is!"

"A dinosaur?" you asked as you shot an extremely fake smile at Casey before heading outside.

"Nope."

"A... dog? Did you make Skittles?" you asked as you put him in your car.

"Nope."

"The solar system?"

"Nope."

"Hmm. Will you give me a hint?" you asked, brushing his soft curls away from his forehead and giving him a kiss. But he was already unzipping his bag and pulling out his newest painting. There was a big, light blue shape that looked like it could have been Bradley's Bronco along with a man who appeared to be sporting a mustache. "Is that Daddy?"

"Yes!"

Then you noticed a little brown blob. "Is that Skittles?"

"Yes! She's his best friend!"

You laughed, because Noah wasn't wrong. Skittles seemed to love Bradley the most, and as much as he tried to fight it, the dog won him over. "She is," you agreed before buckling him in. "She's his best friend besides Aunt Natasha."

Noah shook his head. "She doesn't count, because she's an Aunt."

"Right, right," you said, not wanting to fight his childhood logic when Skittles wasn't even a human. "You're completely right. Should we go home?"

You started singing the dinosaur song as you drove, and because of a detour, you had to drive past the park where Meredith had chased you down. A shiver rippled through your body as you remembered falling and scraping up your arm in your haste to get Noah safely in your car. You hated coming home this way. There was a reason you never did it.

"Mommy, why did you stop singing?"

You glanced in the mirror at Noah's face. "Sorry! Where were we? The part about how the dinosaur stomp, stomp, stomps?"

Bradley was already home when you pulled into the driveway, and you found him dozed off on the couch with Skittles curled up on his chest. Two seconds later, he was jolting awake with the dog in his hand as Noah ran for him. "Daddy! I made you! Out of paint!"

"Cool," Bradley told him, pulling Noah onto his broad chest as well. "And how's Mommy?" he asked, his voice a little raspier just for you. "How was your day, Princess?"

You shook off the last remaining thoughts of Casey and Meredith as you leaned down to kiss him. "Pretty good." He chased your lips for more, but his arms were too full of Noah and Skittles for him to be able to reach for you. "Looks like you're still tired from the weekend," you said with a wink.

"I had a nice conversation with Cyclone today." 

"Oh? About what?" you asked as you started to head to the kitchen to make dinner. 

His expression remained completely neutral as he told you, "Bourbon. Woodford Reserve, to be specific." When you said nothing, he added, "We can chat about it later."

So you made spaghetti, knowing you'd been found out. You had been tipsy on Saturday night at the retirement party, but you were pretty sure you remembered what you did. Probably. You hoped Bradley wasn't mad at you over it, but he seemed to be in a good mood as he ate dinner and offered to give Noah a bath while you walked Skittles. 

She was stubborn for you at first, plopping down on the front porch and whimpering for Bradley while you tugged gently on her leash. "Come on. You're making me look bad! You were my idea. Mine and Noah's." When she remained in her spot, you had to reach into your pocket and say, "Treat?" That did the trick, and you got her to take a slow lap around the block with you while you broke a milkbone into little bites and gave it to her. 

When you returned home, Skittles bounded into the house to get to Bradley where he was sitting on the bathroom floor, looking comically enormous with Noah's rubber duck in his hand. You stood in the doorway and watched him automatically reach down to pet the little pup, taking caution with her casted leg while he rinsed the shampoo out of Noah's hair. 

"You want to go to the beach this weekend, Bub?" he asked softly. "With Aunt Natasha?"

"Can Skittles come?" Noah asked, and you watched Bradley place a soft kiss on his wet forehead that left you reeling. Suddenly you couldn't wait for Noah to be in bed so you could have him all to yourself. 

"Maybe. If she gets her cast off on Wednesday," he replied softly as the dog fully plopped down with her head on his thigh. 

"Daddy?" you asked from your spot in the doorway. It was almost a whine, and when he looked up at you, you were certain he knew what you were thinking about by the little smirk on his lips.

He reached into the tub to drain the water as he asked, "Do you need some attention?"

You just nodded, still in your scrubs from work, but you felt too warm now as you pressed your thighs together. "Yes."

"Fifteen minutes, and then you can have it," he replied with an edge to his voice. "Can you wait that long?"

"I can try," you murmured before you turned to go into Noah's room and get his dinosaur pajamas ready. Anything to expedite bedtime. You listened while Bradley took his time reading three stories, and then you kissed Noah's forehead before you tried to pull Bradley toward the hallway.

He chuckled and whispered, "I'll meet you on the couch."

"Oooh, the couch," you said before running from the room. Before you could even decide what you wanted to do, Bradley was behind you wrapping his arms around your waist and tickling your neck with his mustache.

"I kind of miss those nights when I would help you study."

You moaned softly. "Anatomy really is your specialty."

You felt him pull his right hand away from your body, but before you could complain, it reappeared in front of you with a bag of Skittles on his palm. When you spun in his arms and kissed him, you whispered, "You're so sweet."

Bradley lifted you up and took you the few steps to the couch where you settled in straddling his lap while you opened your candy. "If you're this excited about something I picked up at the gas station, I wonder what you'll do if I buy you something a little more expensive."

You met his soft eyes and leaned in to kiss him. "How much more expensive are we talking?" you asked, treating him to the orange Skittle you pulled out of the bag. He parted his lips and you slipped it between them, watching his jaw work as he chewed it up. 

"A lot more expensive," he replied as you ate three candies. "Hey, this is a 50/50 relationship here, Princess."

You shoved a small handful into his mouth and kissed his cheeks as he sputtered and chewed. "I'll share everything I have with you. Too bad I don't have much."

Bradley swallowed down the treat and reached for your free hand. "You give me everything I need. Everything I want, too."

You basked in the warmth of his words as your eyes closed, and a welcome heat crept into your cheeks. "I love you."

"Then I think you'll love what I'm planning on buying for you," he whispered as his mustache grazed your chin and jaw. 

You grinned, hoping you already knew what he was talking about, but too afraid to say it out loud. So you pushed the thought from your mind and scooted a little closer toward him on his lap. "What's this I'm hearing about a beach day? And Skittles getting her cast off? This is all news to me."

He didn't miss a beat as he wrapped his big hands around your hips and said, "What's this I'm hearing about some bourbon at the retirement party? It's all news to me."

"Oh," you whispered softly before eating more Skittles, buying yourself a little time to think. "Well, you see... I wasn't exactly sober."

"You're joking," he deadpanned. 

You rolled your eyes and shoved more candy into his mouth. "I may have had a glass of bourbon sent over to Admiral Simpson, courtesy of Lieutenant Bradshaw and his girlfriend..."

After a few quiet blinks, Bradley's head tipped back in laughter so loud that Skittles the pup came running into the room. "You didn't!" Bradley said. "I have to work with that man!" 

"Somebody had to make the big move, Daddy! It cleared the tension!"

He met your eyes, still shaking his head and smirking. "It also made you look like Daddy's good little girl."

Your heart skipped around in your chest at his words, and you set your candy aside in favor of wrapping your arms around his neck. "Am I not? Daddy's good little girl?"

"Oh, you absolutely are," he replied as he lifted your top inch by inch. "I just never thought my boss's boss would see it that way." 

You raised your hands up in the air, eager to lose your shirt, but he took his sweet time about it. "Daddy."

"You can be patient," he whispered, smiling when he saw your purple bra. "Pretty." Your top dropped to the floor as he cupped you through the lace, finding your nipples right away. "You feel like going to the beach on Saturday?"

Bradley's lips found the tops of your breasts, and you could no longer formulate real words. You just hummed in response already knowing he was going to take expert care of you right now and on Saturday as well.

"You could wear your purple bikini and tell all the other guys to fuck off," he said as he ran his nose softly along your skin while he unhooked your bra and let it fall next to your top. 

"Would you like that?" you asked as your fingers tangled up in his hair. He answered you by nodding as he took your nipple between his lips. Bradley was all big hands on your bare skin and just the perfect amount of roughness. "Oh god," you whined. 

And then he had you on your back in the middle of the area rug with his body over yours. His thigh was rubbing you through your thin pants, and you bucked up gently against him as his heavy weight pressed deliciously against your body. "I love you," he grunted as you tugged at his hair. 

"I love you so much, Daddy," you gasped as he yanked your pants and underwear down and off, leaving you in only your socks. He fumbled with the front of his pants for just a few seconds before pulling his length free, and you spread your legs wide for him.

His lips and tongue were wet on your neck as you held him close, lost in the domesticity of having sex here now. Just like your first time with him. Right next to the snag in the rug. But this time you could hear Skittles' claws tapping across the kitchen floor, and you could see some of Noah's crayons that had rolled under the couch while Bradley fucked you. You could smell the lingering scent of the pasta sauce from the dinner you made. You could taste Bradley's now familiar tongue as it met yours. And you could feel his rough hands on your hips and belly where he'd now touched you hundreds of times. 

You fell in love with the flood of familiarity he brought to your senses, and it left you smiling up at him when he broke the kiss. "Jesus," he grunted, cupping one cheek in his hand. You kissed the side of his thumb as he stroked your skin, and you watched him slowly come undone for you. "I'll get you there," he promised, changing his angle so he rubbed your clit with each movement.

Just like the first time, he filled you up as soon as you came, and your name was all over his lips as you smiled at the lost crayons before closing your eyes. Bradley collected you against his body as he eased himself down onto his side, and you sighed contentedly. You held onto his wrist as he ran his hand along your hair and kissed you. In that moment you would have agreed to anything he said. 

"Baby, I'll be a little late on Wednesday night. I have to take Skittles to get her cast off, and then I need to stop at the store."

You hummed softly in response, pressing your lips to his. "Sounds good."

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

The only time Bradley heard from you on Wednesday was when you told him that one of your patients came in with an emergency, and you wanted to let him know you'd be helping Dr. Kelly with a minor surgical procedure. He was excited for you, but he didn't want to bother you. Even though he had good news.

"Congrats," Jake drawled in the locker room after a very long day of flying. "Don't know how you managed to pull this one off, but I heard you're flying in the air show."

Bradley ran his towel over his chest before tossing it into his locker. "Thanks," he grunted, trying not to smile. He'd be able to take you on the tour of the hospital with him, and then you and Noah could watch him fly. His son had never seen him in the air before, and it gave Bradley goosebumps knowing that the two of you would be able to do that together. 

Jake gave him one last appraising look before he got dressed. Honestly, it was probably the fact that you upped the ante with Cyclone that Bradley was chosen over the others. Perhaps now things could be called even. You managed to keep everyone on their toes in the best way, and it made him smile even now. 

You were in rare form this week, luring him in for living room floor sex when there was a perfectly new bed in the bedroom. And then last night, you got him to watch a Disney princess movie with you, even after Noah was in bed, and Bradley had begrudgingly enjoyed it. You were laying across his lap on your back when the end credits rolled, and you said, "If you're a good boy, I'll make you beignets just like Princess Tiana."

Bradley had smirked. "Do those have cream filling?"

"No," you whispered as he eased your shirt up so his palm was flat on your belly. 

"Do you want some?" 

He had been thinking about getting you pregnant as he made you bury your face in the couch pillows to keep you quiet.

And that was just one of the many reasons he was about to leave work and head home to grab Skittles before stopping at the jewelry store across town. If Casey managed to bump into there and ruin this surprise as well, he would probably lose his mind. But the jeweler near the animal shelter was one of the best in the city, so that was where he would go. 

Bradley awkwardly held Skittles while he drove, and eventually she curled up with her head on his thigh while he sat in traffic. She seemed to be doing great, so he hoped that was a good sign that the cast could come off. You and Noah were delighted with her, and she somehow made Bradley fall in love, too. 

"Yeah, you're sweet," he told her, scratching her behind the ears while he drove. He parallel parked the Bronco with one hand while he continued to pet her, and when he took her inside the shelter, he held onto her a little tighter. It was hard to believe she'd been here just a few weeks ago, completely unwanted. 

Bradley pressed kisses to the top of her head as he waited for the receptionist to finish her phone call. When she hung up, she asked, "And who do we have here?"

"Skittles Bradshaw," he replied, nuzzling his nose against her fur and wondering how on earth he had gotten so attached to this little pup. "Hopefully she can get her cast off today."

He only had to wait a few minutes, and then he watched as they examined her before cutting into the cast plaster. Once she was free, Skittles took a few tentative steps across the exam table, and then she jumped right back into Bradley's arms. 

After he paid the monstrous bill for such a small creature, he carried her down the sidewalk, enjoying the cooling temperature as the sun set. When he checked his phone, he saw that you'd finally texted him again.

My Princess: Noah and I are going to play at the park near the beach. Leftovers when you get home?

He typed out a quick message letting you know that sounded perfect. Thoughts of you and Noah together filled his mind as he entered the jewelry store, and two women looked up at him and Skittles. "Is it okay if I have her in here?" he asked, but they both immediately rushed over, practically screeching about how cute his dog was. Honestly, the pet would have probably worked out better than the dating app had for him.

"What are you looking for?" the first woman asked as she petted Skittles on her head. 

A soft smile made its way to his lips as he said, "An engagement ring."

"Oh! Of course, let's just head over here to see what you like best. Do you have anything specific in mind?"

Bradley followed behind her as he nodded and said, "A princess cut diamond."

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

A princess for a Princess. Also, there is no way Skittles wouldn't be a magnet for all the ladies. A big man with a small dog... just fuck. Thanks to @mak-32 and @beyondthesefourwalls

PART 45

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[green-alien-turdz]

Hi, I know its been a minute n I don't really like that there is like one or two posts between this n my last 'i'm still alive' post. I'm sorry. I wanted to say thank you to everyone in general, but also the mfs who said some nice ass shit to me. Sorry I said some concernin ass shit n just dipped, that was pretty fucked. I never really had people care like all the people on here, so I ain't too used to havin to be more careful with the shit I do n say.

Thank you to everyone for the kind words, concern, n care. Comin back to see all of it made my fuckin heart melt. I know I'm just some dumbass postin south park shit on tumblr, but you guys are genuinely the most amazin mfs I've ever encountered. To the people who were in my inbox askin if I was still alive, I sincerely apologize for causin any stress or concern, it's not my intention. You guys are the sweetest people, and I'm sorry for doin that. I should prolly stop bein as vocal about bein so fucked, but I also like to be honest n I like sharin this shit bcuz I know mfs be goin through the same shit n bein alone in it feels fuckin awful majority of the time.

I am not well. I am doin very bad actually. There's a chance imma be forcefully medicated in the near future. Which is weird bcuz I used to always want that, I wanted to be fixed, but now I'm not sure for like a TON of reasons. One, ion wanna be changed (in a sense). If the meds take away or dull core aspects of myself, I will lose it further than I have already. Two, my parents raised me to never trust doctors or medicine, etc. Even though I do think modern medicine is a great thing, I still have my fears bcuz of how I was raised. Three, I fear the fuck outta what I will do. I know they warn that adjustment periods n shit like that can make things worse- but I literally cannot get any worse. If I do, I know I will not come out alive. Which bleeds into reason four, which is that I know, at some point, I would try n overdose. Handin me such a quick n thoughtless way to just end it is like the worst fuckin thing they could do. But whatever. Ion even know when it's gonna happen, all I know is that ion got a choice. Like, I'm pretty sure it's a situation that, if I don't comply, imma be locked tf up.

Uhh minor update shit- my cat came back home after almost a month of bein fuckin somewhere. She came back skinny, dirty, n sick, but she is slowly recoverin n I've never been more thankful. ED is still kickin my ass, but I'm forcin myself to at least have a fuckin soup I made bcuz I can't get shit done at work if I keep faintin or gettin injured. I have little to no time to do shitfuck, but still do random shit periodically before or after work. I actually redid my dresser n made some stupid ass video about the handles that I might post to youtube if I quit bein a pussy about it.

I haven't been drawin my fanart as of late- but I do want to. Imma focus on doin the requests I have bcuz I wanna give back the best I can. You guys stick with me through thick n thin. I thank you all so much. I'm sorry I'm always MIA. So my posts for a little bit are gonna be the requests n answerin all of my inbox. Ion know how long it'll take, but hopefully it won't get borin. I genuinely love makin things. I love drawin the shit I do n people findin some sort of connection to their lives or themselves. I just want people to feel less alone, less ugly, less whatever the fuck you feel. Each n every one of ya is fuckin amazin, so please don't forget it.

Imma stfu now. But I hope you guys have a good rest of your day or night or eternity. I'll be back to postin shortly, thank you for stickin with this shit show

[crownmemes]

Friendship Starters, Vol. 2

(Sentences for friends, with an assortment of feelings. Adjust phrasing where needed)

"That look in your eye is a pain in my ass. You know that, right?"

"You're an only child, aren't you?"

"Take it from me, you need some fun!"

"You're too much of a nice boy. Let's let the bad boy out for a bit!"

"What sort of trouble are you up to now, hm?"

"I've always thought of you as one of the good ones."

"It's my birthday today."

"Now, whatever you do, don't get excited."

"You know, you don't have to keep humouring me like this."

"Can I ask you a personal question?"

"Is it your plan to stay a while?"

"Do you remember the day we met?"

"What I don't understand is why my best friend can't be happy for me!"

"Oh, I was going to say, we should do something for your birthday! A proper party!"

"You know I'll find out what you're up to, don't you?"

"You have to admit that your social life has been a bit anaemic as of late."

"I'm your best friend, and half the time, I don't understand you!"

"You're more like him than you want to admit."

"I just wanted to be your friend."

"If you'd like, you could stay here"

"I was wondering when you'd grow bored of ignoring my calls!"

"Never would have figured you for a motorcycle guy."

"Is everything okay? You seem annoyed about something."

"Is that what we are? Friends?"

"Am I ever going to live this down?"

"I'm sorry my mum asked so many rude questions. Don't take it personally."

"You know, in some cultures, it’s considered almost rude for one friend to spy on another."

"You value our friendship more than your ethical responsibilities."

"Are you going to ignore me all day again?"

"Hey, you know what you need? A night out on the town!"

"Why are you being weird with me again? I thought we weren't doing that anymore."

"We've always done things together. Why does that suddenly have to stop?"

"You're trying to objectively measure how much I value our friendship?"

"Every time I go to one of your parties, I end up embarrassing myself in some new and unexpected way."

"Let's play truth or dare!"

"We make rather a good team, you and I."

[recuira]

after hours

after hours : a live action buggy x fem!reader fanfiction

for some odd reason, you have no idea who he is. and he fucking loved that.

-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-

chapter one

chapter two | red. rain. rotten.

his pov;

She was standing underneath a stripe-patterned banner that shielded her from the pouring rain. Her nimble fingers sorted through an assortment of fruits, trying to decide which were the ripest and tastiest of the bunch. Of course, she was by herself, with none of her peers or family around her. I knew she was close to them. But why must she always be alone?

The tan-suede coat I wore protected me from the cold, keeping my body somewhat warm. My gloves and hands were stuffed in my pockets as I peeked around the corner and watched the girl shop. I noticed her begin to shiver, which I dreaded. I was so selfish. I didn't need this coat. I've spent countless nights in the cold, the crashing waves of the East Blue only intensifying the breeze. I was almost immune to the cold, but her? Y/N's nose was reddening as her teeth shattered. Was any fruit worth suffering in the cold? A devil fruit, maybe. But even then, it wasn't worth it. "Y/N," I smiled as I approached the maiden. The girl's head rose as she picked up an apple then her body twisted, her eyes growing wide upon the sight of myself. She nearly jumped. "How-" She shook her head. "Are you following me?" Her voice and body shook. Yes. "No, of course not," I laughed, brushing the accusation off my shoulders as I took a few more steps toward her, closing the wide gap. "I was looking for something to eat and I spotted you. Am I not allowed to say hello?" Guilt was something I was tremendous at. Y/N still seemed skeptical but after a slight sigh, she smiled and nodded her head. "No, forgive me. I'm sorry. Uh," She turned her attention to the apple she was holding then let it drop among the others crowding in a small basket. "None of these apples look good."

"They've been sitting out for a while. The shop clerk doesn't take the best care of his fruits. It's why they're so cheap," I chuckled to myself and reached down to grab an apple. I twisted it and examined a large brown spot that was eating away at the once-bright red color. I huffed, "I'm sure you can find something else to eat."

"I can't afford anything else to eat."

My eyes widened and I took a step back, visibly and internally shocked. What? She couldn't afford to eat anything other than a rotten apple? "Why?"

"It's a long story," Y/N admitted. "But I don't wanna talk about it." The girl sorted through found one that looked reasonable, and started to dig in her pocket. She pulled out nothing. "Never mind, I can't even afford that." Letting out a pitiful laugh, she dropped the fruit. I frowned. Her absence of money was one of the few things I didn't know about her. And now that I was aware of it, I felt a puzzling and aggressive feeling in my stomach. Was she out of work? Did she not have any way of providing for herself? Raising my hand, I grabbed at my chin and scratched the bottom of it. "Let me buy you something to eat."

"What?" Her eyes widened and she immediately shook her head, waving her hands as a type of rejection. "You are not buying me anything."

"It's just lunch. It's no biggy," I remarked. "At least something small."

"Why?" She folded her arms over her chest. "Do you feel sorry for me? First, you see me getting picked on by some slob, and now, you see that I'm too poor to afford a rotten apple. What's next?"

"Y/N, knock it off. Stop. Just think of it as a friend doing something nice for their friend."

The questioning look remained stuck on her face as she stared up at me. I tried to maintain a serious expression though the look she was giving me made my lower lip purse, like a pout. How was someone so enchanting? I continued to stare into her eyes, making quick glimpses to explore her other facial features before she finally made a decision. "Fine, but just this once, okay?" "You got it." I winked. -=- Being the gentleman I am, I loaned Y/N my coat to wear despite her dismay and numerous declines. She was pouty the entire walk to the pub but I didn't care. I'd rather her in a pissy mood than feeling physically uncomfortable due to the rain. I, however, was shivering. I was starting to become drenched. I held a newspaper over my head in hopes of staying dry but the wind was strong and the rain was forceful, almost piercing through the thin paper.

When we arrived at the restaurant, she found herself a seat in the corner of the establishment, scooting far into the booth. I followed behind her, sitting on the edge of the seat. I'd rather her be sitting across from me than rather to the side but due to her current emotional state, I stayed quiet and slid her the menu. "Get whatever you want, alright? I mean it."

"Are you a man of money?"

"Something like that," I snickered and ducked my head down to examine the options.

"Have you killed anyone before?" Y/N asked as she folded her arms over the table, her eyes peering at me.

I furrowed my eyebrows and let out a soft laugh. "No," I lied. "I'm not like that. I wasn't that type of pirate."

"What kind of pirate were you?"

"What kind of pirates do you think there are?"

"I don't know," She said as she pursed her lips. "I don't like pirates."

I nodded, unsure of a proper reply. I didn't like lying to her. I was fine with lying, in general. I was the master of conniving and deception. But I wanted to be different for her. Maybe a better person, though that seemed a bit rash. I left the East Blue after discovering that Monkey D- or whatever his name was received a higher bounty than me. Double my own, to be precise. My normally high and mighty ego dropped down and was smooshed by a brick. I didn't want to show my face again, at least not for a while. I wanted somewhat of a fresh start. And when I discovered my presence in the North Blue was dim and almost non-existent, I decide to settle down and refresh.

Then I discovered her.

And my plans completely changed.

"Do you know what you're getting?" Y/N's voice interrupted my thoughts and I raised my head and peaked up at her, smiling softly.

"Hm, not too sure yet," I replied.

"Are you cold? You look cold. You can have your coat back, it's--"

"Nah, keep it. It looks better on you," I said with a grin. I reached for a napkin and started to dab at my forearms, trying to dry myself off. The lovely woman aside of me frowned and stayed quiet. I could tell she felt guilty, which, of course, wasn't my intention. So in hopes of brightening up the mood, I decided to tell a joke.

"What's a pirate's favorite type of exercise?"

Y/N smirked and scrunched her eyebrows. "What?" She laughed.

"The plank."

Her hand slapped over her mouth in hopes of keeping her loud giggles and snickers to a minimum but the more she proceeded to think about it, the more laughs she erupted. My face reddened. I glanced around me, noticing that every other patron and pirate were staring directly at us. Gulping, I reached forward and pulled her hand down from her mouth. "Come on, stop. It's not that funny."

"It's stupid, that's why it's funny!" She continued to cackle as she threw herself over the table, clutching her stomach. A smile crawled on my face, not a painted one. Hearing her laugh, while for no reason, was a beautiful sound. And seeing her laugh? That was even better. I rested my chin in my hand and watched her, smiling to myself. When she finally calmed down, she wiped tears from her eyes. Her face was stained red. "Gosh, I am so sorry," She sighed, shaking her head. "I needed that, thank you."

"It's no problem," I said as I dropped my menu.

Due to the lack of laughter, a waiter finally arrived and took our orders.

"I'll have a slice of apple pie, please. With a cup of milk," Y/N smiled up at the waiter as she read off from the menu.

I raised an eyebrow. Dessert?

"Then after that, I'll have the fish and chips. But I want the pie first, please. Not after." She announced and she folded her menu, sliding it forward. She smiled at me.

I looked at her, completely confused. "Uhm," I looked back to the waiter, "I'll just have a cup of coffee."

Now, Y/N was looking at me, confused.

The waiter nodded and left. "Hey," Y/N started. "Why aren't you eating? I thought you were on your way to get something to eat?"

"I'm not hungry. Plus I doubt you'll finish all of that. I might pick on your leftovers," I said with a grin then I started to munch on the small bowl of peanuts that sat in the middle of the table. "What's up with the apple pie though?"

"I like to eat my dessert before my food because that's what I'm looking forward to," She hummed as she leaned back in her seat. "What if during our meal, we are stormed by a group of pirates and killed at gunpoint? Or a sea snake comes and eats us whole?"

"Ha! What?"

"It's unlikely but it's possible. And I'd like to die knowing I was able to get to the good part of my meal." She wagged her finger at me.

"You make a good point there."

"I know," The girl said with a satisfied grin.

I chuckled and sat back, drumming my gloved fingers on the edge of the table. A thought pondered my mind but I didn't know whether to act on it or not. I wanted to, but I didn't want to overstep any boundaries. I felt Y/N and I were moving forward with our relationship if there was one. We were talking, enjoying a meal together. I made her laugh. She admitted a quirk about herself to me. I felt there was good progress. But I wanted more. I was an impatient man. And the fact that it took five months for me to finally talk to her, despite her initiating the conversation, was surprising. I was eager to get what I wanted. And Y/N was the only thing my mind and heart could agree on.

But the fighting halves of my brain finally settled and I rested my arm over the top of the booth, leaning back. "So, uh, earlier you said you needed to laugh? How so?"

"It's a long story," She mumbled, shrugging her shoulders.

"I've got no places to be, I have time," I said as I cracked a peanut open, discarding of the shells on an unfolded napkin. I watched as she began to grow uneasy with the topic but I was desperate to want to know what was the issue. Why was she stressing her pretty little head? I frowned. "Come on, talk to me. We aren't friends, I'm a stranger to you, no? Who am I gonna talk to or tell?"

"You make a good point," Y/N sighed and leaned forward, raising her hand to scratch at the back of her neck. "It's just- I don't know, it's a lot. I haven't talked to anyone about it."

“Why not?”

“Because it’s something I’m not proud of.”

What could someone as sweet and fragile as she has done that was such an awful deed?

“What is it?” I tossed a peanut into my mouth.

“Well, I was young when it all happened. But when Gold Roger announced the One Piece before he died, my dad was one of the stupid pirates who thought he could have a shot at finding it,” She announced as her eyes rolled and she started to chew on my inner cheek. “My mom kept telling him to knock it off and stop living in a fantasy but he set off, determined to find it. I haven’t seen him in fifteen years. But this came to me a few days ago,” The girl dug her hand into her pocket, rummaging around before she pulled out a crumpled piece of coffee-stained paper. She rolled the ball toward me.

I looked at her then back down at the paper ball. I reached forward and grabbed it, raising an eyebrow. Unfolding it, I smoothed the paper against the table and started to allow my eyes to trail over the letter.

‘Y/N,

It is with great sorrow that I write you this letter. I wish you the best in your youth and I hope you amount to incredible things, such as creating a new destiny for you and your mother. I am sorry I wasn’t able to be a better father for you. Greed is distasteful. I won’t see you again. At the time of writing this, I will be long gone. But please, do me one thing: never stop smiling.

I love you, kiddo.

Love, Dad’

I clenched my jaw and looked back up at her. “Damn, that is a lot.”

“I told you,” She whispered as she tore the paper out of my hands, crunched it into a ball, and then shoved it back into her pants. “I didn’t think he’d be dead. Not this soon. My parents had me when they were young. And to think that my dad died doing something everyone warned him of. It’s horrible. It haunts my mind every day,” She frowned, her eyes tearing up. “Do I write back?”

“Do you have things you wish to say to him?”

“So much. But if he’s dead, then there’s nothing I can say, right?” Y/N rubbed at her nose and took a deep breath as she looked up, her hands waving in hopes of drying her tears. “God, I hate crying.”

“Maybe just write your heart out. Say everything you wish you could say to him. Then seal it in a bottle and toss it into the sea,” I suggested. I looked down at my gloved hand and hesitating, I reached forward and took hold of her small hand. I gave it a tight squeeze. “What do you want to say?”

“How I hate him for abandoning me and my mother but I still love him because he’s my father,” Y/N murmured, the rest of her words muffling as her lower lip quivered. She broke down in a fit of sobs as tears ran down her gorgeous face. I swallowed, never knowing how to react when someone cried. As a child, I hated to be touched whenever I was upset. I wondered if she was the same way. “I don’t know, I don’t,” She repeated as she buried her face in her hands.

I looked around the bar, nervous that others were watching this scene. First the obnoxious laughter and now this? Her emotions were spiraling.

“Hey,” I whispered, my thumb rubbing along her wrist. “Let's say we get the food to go and I’ll take you back home. Eat where you feel comfortable and so you can properly feel your emotions.”

“Huh?” She raised her head, the light mascara that accentuated her eyelashes, now dripping down her cheeks.

“I’m going to go tell the chef to wrap your meal up. Then I’ll take you home,” I continued and I raised my free hand, snapping my fingers to signal we needed assistance. “But don’t worry, I’ll turn around when you walk inside.” I cocked a smile but the comment remained unheard as she continued to cry.

I finally found a waiter and instructed him that we were taking the meal to go. He looked at Y/N with a concerned look but I told him she was alright. But I didn't even know that.

On the walk back to her place, I think I managed to get her to calm down. My hand rubbed at her back as she dipped her head in her hands. I guided her through crowds, instructing her on where to go since her eyes were covered and swollen with tears. A small frown fell on my face despite the red-painted smile I wore so proudly. The face paint I wore was smeared and dripping due to the rain from before. It was continuing to rain but not nearly as frequent and hard as earlier.

I had no idea she was this emotional. It made me feel guilty, even though, as far as I knew, I had nothing to do with why she was crying so much. I hated seeing her so sad. Normally, if it were anyone else apart from her, ridiculing would be my goal. I never cry. Pirates don't cry. But my nose burned with an odd sensation as I helped her up the staircase to her small, run-down building. I blinked rapidly and the feeling went away. Letting out a sigh, I gave Y/N a pat on the back and informed her that we were finally home. Her head raised from the confines of her hands and she revealed a wet, red face with strands of her hair sticking to her skin. A frown stayed on my face. I pulled my hand from her back and dropped the takeaway down on the doorstep. I clenched my teeth together and watched as she fumbled to push the door open. "Here," I whispered, using my foot to nudge it open. It gave way, revealing a disorderly room with an unkempt bed and a woman sleeping under the sheets. It was probably her mother.

"Thank you," Y/N finally spoke, her voice croaking. "I appreciate it, honestly. I'm sorry for ruining your meal."

"Don't apologize. Things are fine. Go eat then get some rest, alright?"

"Yeah, okay." She rubbed her nose and nodded her head. "I'll see you around." Her body twisted and she hunched over to grab the uneaten food. She stepped inside.

"Y/N," I started, stopping her in her steps. She turned around. As I dug through my pocket, I pulled out a few berries, placing them in the palm of her hand. "Take these, okay? It's not a lot but, it should last you a little while."

"What?" She looked in her hand, shaking her head. "Buggy, no, I can't accept this. This is too much."

"Come on, take it. It's okay. You need it more than I do."

"But this is like," She counted the bills in her hands, "forty-three hundred berries... Are you completely sure?"

"Yes, I am," I said with a smile.

"I'm going to pay you back for this, I promise."

"No need."

"No, I want to. Please. I won't take this unless you allow me to repay you for this. Okay?" She slipped the money into her pocket, wiped her palm on the side of her pants, then held it out. "Deal?"

Chuckling to myself, I nodded my head. "Deal." I shook her hand. "Now, come on, go eat. I don't want to take any more of your time."

"Okay, okay," The beautiful girl agreed with a large grin, which was a much better sight than her crying. "Buggy, thank you. Thank you so much." And with those words, she stepped back, gave me a quick wave and a sincere grin, then shut the creaky wooden door behind her.

The sound of the door shutting nearly made me jump. And when I realized I was left all alone, the same sensation in my nose appeared. I gulped and walked down the stairs, now standing on a wooden dock. I hugged my arms and my eyes widened.

Y/N still had my coat.

[furiousgoldfish]

(tw mention of suicidal thoughts)

Alright so I am writing this because I can't find anyone to talk to, and my brain is letting me know that I need to talk about it somewhere.

I am falling depressed, and I'm unsure if it's genuine depression, or some sort of deep grief that is just feeling very similar. And I've already looked up what you're supposed to do if you're trying to break out of depression; I am sleeping full 8 hours on a regular sleep schedule, I shower regularly, I do my best to eat regular meals (sometimes it doesn't happen due to lack of energy), if I have any energy left in me, I take a little walk, I pay attention to my surroundings. I do my best to answer messages and to socialize, even superficially, with the people I see.

However, despite me doing all that, the deep feeling of sadness is persevering, in fact it gets worse after my walks, I end up going home in worse feeling of dread than before.

I was going to keep trying to break out of it, and then today something bad and triggering happened, and my mind just went very dark. Like what is even the point anymore? I started considering if anyone around me would be impacted by my suicide. And then just tried to dissociate from the bad thing that happened, tried to create reality in which it didn't. Like I could ignore it out of existence. Like maybe if I just curl up over there and never look at anything ever again, maybe then bad things would go away.

I tried to comfort myself thinking I could, at least, tell people around me and see if anyone would say anything kind or helpful, but people around me did not care at all, would go on about their troubles instead and looked at me like I was weirdo for complaining. Which again, made me feel like talking to people was the worst idea ever and like I was dumb for even engaging, I should have known I'm alone in this.

So now I'm back to sinking down in my grief, occasionally getting numb from it and sinking again. I had periods, years of grief in the past, and it just feels like you're slowly dying, right, and it doesn't stop and it feels suffocating and like you'd do anything for it to stop. But also in the past, I knew what I was grieving; it was the loss of my delusion of family, loss of hope that I will have family members who are in any way safe for me, loss of security and safety that comes with family, acknowledgment that I was abandoned and left with predators for the most of my life. I thought I was done grieving about all that, because for a while I just didn't think about it, and it didn't bother me. I don't think that's what I'm grieving now.

It's actually hard to pinpoint it, because my memories are mostly gone, but I think it's the loss of friendships in my life. I've tried hard to build connections with other people, even as scared and reluctant I was feeling about it, but it always fell trough, and left me feeling with less hope. The ends of friendships were so traumatic for me, that my memories of the entire friendships got deleted. And I can tell right now that hearing anything about people having friends, spending time together and helping each other, that usually sets my grief off, and causes me to start crying regardless of where I am. I tried to recall my past memories of friendships, but all I get back are things I never want to feel or live trough again. Every memory feels like enough reason never to interact with a person again, all of them cut so deep I have to dissociate from them right away.

And basically I don't know what to do. I am losing every bit of my willpower or energy to do anything. Even with my best efforts to stay upright, to interact with my environment and go to walks, I'm only out of bed while I'm working. And I'm randomly bursting into tears and collapsing while I'm doing my job. I am messing up basic tasks. There isn't any activity that isn't exhausting. And everything I cared about feels like nothing to me. I can't even imagine a future, which is usually what I did to pull myself out of bad moods, I would imagine a future where I had a home of my own, and security that I would be able to survive there without having to fight for my life. Now it feels like even if I had that, I would just still want to die.

I've been slowly falling into this place for months, but it is more real today than at any time before. I've put so much effort not to end up feeling like this but... it only makes me more sad to know I'm in this mess anyway. I don't know what to do. I've tried interacting with people, I've tried befriending people, every new interaction feels like it's going to drown me further.

[sisterofsomeone]

Till Death Do Us Part

Chapter 1/?

Summary: On a wedding day in Baldur’s Gate, a marriage is sealed with a sanctified bond. A powerful magic that allows your minds to meld and cannot ever be undone. It is also required to share your darkest secret for the bond to be bestowed. There is a common myth passed around that once, a very long time ago, a woman was tricked into marriage by a demon of sorts and only found out when they wed. Every wedding at that moment the room falls silent, waiting for another scream, another myth making secret to be revealed. You just never thought you would be witness to it.

Series Warnings: Wonwoo x fem!reader, slight Seokmin x fem!reader (because I can't help myself), established relationship/situationship, angst, fluff, swearing, drinking, smoking, there are references to end game BG3 and spoilers for the whole game so please proceed with caution! smut MDNI 18+, unprotected sex, pet names (baby girl, pretty girl, princess), oral sex (male and female receiving), breeding kink, slight daddy kink, size kink, reader has a vagina that gets described as a pussy/cunt, slight dub-con for a second then clear consent, (more will be added as the series goes on!)

Word count: 3.5K

Author's note: Hello again! I was originally going to write this as a oneshot, but I just kept writing and writing and felt that I really wanted to try and flesh this world out. So, it's becoming a series! I cannot promise regular updates as I am in my final year of university, and start back up at my graduate job in september, but I am really enjoying writing this so I'm aiming for at least once a month, but maybe more. I do also have another series in the works which I want to post soon as well, so keep on the lookout for that one! I’ve never written anything like this before so bear with me if it’s not very good! Please enjoy, I really do hope this is entertaining for you, and have a wonderful day/afternoon/evening! Lots of love, Caitlin <3

This is a work of fiction and in no way is meant to represent the actions, ideals, or attitude of the idol Jeon Wonwoo.

Baldur’s Gate. The jewel of the Sword Coast. Granted, you never knew there was supposedly a dragon sleeping under the city before the invasion, but still. A wonderful place to live. Life here was easier for someone like you, the eldest daughter of the Apothecary Merchant. Father had spent most of the money he made to dress you in the finest of clothes, hire chefs to teach you to make the finest of meals, and ensure you were surrounded by the best trained ladies in waiting possible. Status meant everything to him, and you knew you had to marry up to please him. Being the eldest of three girls, you were schooled in house making, cooking, mathematics, business, politics- anything and everything that would endear you to one of the knowledgeable and wealthy bachelors your father was hoping to wed you to. Your younger sisters however were afforded the luxury to follow their throws of passion and learn dance, music, or geography to teach and travel. You didn’t much care for home making, your fascination with the foul words in other languages usually left your tutor giggling after you begged her to teach you them. You were smart, quick with numbers and well versed in politics and business. It was something your father loved about you. The daughter that would lift them even higher in status. You were his political pawn.

You were with your mathematics tutor when she burst through the door. Your mother, her face flushed, chest rising and falling rapidly with her heavy breaths.

“The- The King wants you to attend the ball.” She spoke. “The ball for the princes to choose their brides. He has called for you specifically.”

“Oh?” You didn’t so much as look away from your work, still toying away with the problems in front of you.

“Yes! Oh Gods girl, what are we to do with you?” Your tutor excused himself as your mother swanned towards the large windows. She was as dramatic a woman as you had ever met, and you loved her for it. Turning to face you, her dress billowed, and it struck you yet again how beautiful she was. You knew she used to be the catch; the young daughter of a cattle farmer swept into the Sword Coast by her wild fancies and taking Baldur’s Gate by storm. She married your father in a rather quickly arranged match, both being only 21 and your bump already starting to show through her clothes. She had always held a special place in your life, and the closeness in age only solidified your bond.

“You’re to help me avoid it. You know I want nothing to do with the royal family.” You raised an eyebrow, smirk playing on your lips as you turned another page in your book.

“It’s such a shame. You should go, if not for yourself but for me. It says and family and you know how much your sisters and I would love it!” Her fingers danced across the edge of the paper, twirling the red silk ribbon that used to hold the envelope closed as she read and reread the words.

“You know, there must be a specific reason they invited you. I heard only four girls and their families were invited specifically by name.” He voiced wavered, tone light, eyes meeting yours with that twinkle you knew meant trouble. Sometimes it felt like you were the parent in this.

“Will I need a new dress?” With that she squealed and swept you into her arms.

“Oh darling! You are going to love this!” Untangling her arms from around you she ran from the room and to the staircase.

“Girls! Darling! Come downstairs, your sister has an announcement!”

It was dark outside when you were finally allowed to rest. Your mother had dragged you and your sisters around every tailor in the city, eventually settling on a beautiful, glittered gown from the Facemaker’s that made it look like you were dripping in starlight. Your sisters marvelled at you, them seemingly more excited for your prospects than you were. As you stood before the full-length mirror, watching the way light danced across the dress you caught your own breath. You stood tall, the shimmering fabric laying against your body as if made solely for you. Your face now seemingly had the allure you always attributed to your mother, the colour of your eyes mirroring her own beautiful hue. It was the first time you felt a fraction as beautiful as her. That’s why you let your mother buy the dress, but you’d never tell her that.

The evening was warm as you took a book from the library and made your way to the balcony. Lighting the lamp on the table you slipped yourself onto the velvet covered seat and pulled the small blanket around your legs, hiking them up to your chest. It was here you sat, absorbed in the words of scholars until a small cough caught your attention. This was routine at this point, so you put your book down and pulled yourself from the seat, dangling a hand over the railing in front of you before leaning your head over. The man clasped your hand and smiled up at you.

It had all been an accident, you meeting Seokmin and Wonwoo. You weren’t supposed to be walking unescorted to Sorcerers’ Sundries, well technically you weren’t supposed to be walking there at all, but what Father didn’t know wouldn’t hurt him. You had stopped but for a moment to watch the magic show at the front entrance when you felt a hand dip into your pockets. You grasped their wrist and turned, only to be met with a small child.

“I’m-I’m so sorry miss, please let me go.” The tiny tiefling looked terrified, eyes wide and lower lip trembling. Immediately you dropped your guard, gaze softening and grip on their arm loosening.

“Child, no need to be scared I won’t call the Fists. But let’s not go picking anymore pockets hm?” They nodded, thanking you as they scurried away. Thats when you heard the laughter. Two tall men, eyes dark and trained directly on you and the scurrying child.

“What are you two laughing at huh?” The slightly broader one cocked an eyebrow at you, and the other pointed behind you. There you saw the scared tiefling, not so scared anymore as them and their friend – who you hadn’t noticed until now – were poking their tongues out at you as they waved a purse above their heads.

“That’s mine!” You shouted as they hurried off, tails wagging and giggles filling the dark streets.

“You fell for that hook line and sinker.” One of the hooded men let a plume of smoke escape his lips and curled them into a smile. “Are you new here or something?”

“No, no. Look at her, she’s a sheltered little princess I bet.” The other said, closing the distance between you and him. You finally got a good look at him. Dark eyes, golden tanned skin, a smile spread across his face that lit a fire in your stomach. He leaned down, face now only inches from yours. “Such a sheltered little princess, aren’t you?” There was an earthiness to him, a woody smell that danced under a zesty citrus. This was no commoner’s perfume.

“Who are you?”

Wonwoo’s eyes shone from below you on the balcony, that same smile lighting that spark deep in your soul. He was intelligent, worldly, but most of all, he was kind. He climbed up the balcony as usual, pulling you into his embrace and kissing you. It was hot, fiery and passionate. It always felt like he was swallowing you whole, devouring every part of you. He pushed you backwards, lowering you into the plush of the loveseat as his body covered your own. His mouth never left yours, tongue playing against your bottom lip as you gave him entrance. He moaned, fingers running through your hair and pulling, revealing the length of your neck to him. He kissed down it, careful not to leave any marks as he did so.

“My beautiful girl, my pretty girl.” His lips left a searing trail down to your chest, his hands trailing down your sides, bunching up your dress to reach your core.

“Wonwoo, baby, we can’t. Not tonight.” It was almost useless, his lips never stopped working against your neck, teeth nipping at your pulse point. “Wonwoo, baby.” A whine left him that had a throb course through your body and set that flame burning.

“Don’t tell me to stop baby please.” He kissed you again, hands never stopping their assault on you. “Please don’t tell me I can’t play with my pretty girl’s pretty pussy.” His eyes darkened, teeth bit down harder, and you could almost feel the punctures from his canines.

“This pretty pussy has been invited to the King’s ball. This pretty pussy might have just been sold off by her ever-scheming father.” He stalled at this, hands stopping their assault and mouth leaving your skin.

“What?” His eyes were trained on yours as you swallowed thickly.

“We got the invitation today. Gods know how he did it. But he did.” Wonwoo moved off you, settling into the space beside you.

“Are you happy? With the idea I mean?” You let out a short laugh, cold and harsh.

“Happy? Why would I be happy? No one has ever seen them, been allowed near them, and what? I’m supposed to marry one of them. Be used as breeding stock. Finally put all this stupid training to use.” He laughed softly from beside you.

“You think this is funny? My life being sold off to the highest bidder and you laugh?”

“No! No, it’s not like that I promise.” His arms were around you again, pulling you into his chest. “I think there’s more to this than you know. Go to the party. You might be pleasantly surprised that’s all.” His lips were on yours again. “And no matter what happens, I’ll never let anyone else touch you the way I do.”

The morning broke through your curtains and the man beside you stirred. His chest was warm beneath your cheek as you kissed the arm draped around you.

“Darling, you must go before we get caught. Again.” He groaned, rolling the pair of you over, trapping you beneath him. That smile was back, softly lit by the warm glow of the sun pouring in through the windows. “Wonwoo, baby please.” His lips were soft against yours, pouring love into you like there was no tomorrow. His fingertips danced across your skin, raising goosebumps in their wake. He rolled his hips into you, want evident at the broken gasp that left his lips. “Wonwoo baby.” You moaned out, fingers moving to his shoulder blades. He rolled his hips again, the slickness of your cunt allowing for him to rock smoothly and bump his cockhead into your clit. “Wonwoo, we can’t.” But your body gives you away, the roll of your hips as you shake beneath him has him lining up instantly.

“Princess, say no right now and I won’t do it. But say yes and I’ll give you a baby. I’ll fuck you so full it has no option but to stick. You’ll be mine.” Your lips chased his as you nodded frantically against him.

“Yes Wonwoo, yes yes yes.” He pushed in, cock stretching you as you raked your nails down his back. His thrusts were deep, angling his hips to hit that spot inside of you.

“My princess wants a baby yeah? Wants me to fuck her full?” He growled into your ear, hips smashing into yours.

“Please, wanna make you a daddy.” You purred back. His hand snaked between your bodies, fingers rubbing circle after circle into your swollen clit as you arched up into him. He never stopped kissing you, never stopped whispering praise into your mouth as you came around him.

“Please Wonwoo, want you to fill me up. Please.” You dug your nails into his skin, drawing a hiss from him. He’s panting, sweat lining his forehead as he thrust into you again and again, bringing you to orgasm over and over until you couldn't take it anymore. He pushes you over the edge again and again, having you crying his name into his mouth over and over as you beg for him to finish in you, mark you as his.

But he doesn’t. He pulls out as he always does and finishes onto your thigh. It’s over then, the light shifting to a cold blue as the sun shifts behind a cloud. He moves away from you, gathering his clothes and dressing.

“When will I see you again?” He pauses, eyes meeting your own.

“You won’t see me like this for a while. At least, not this version of me.” You don’t know what that means, but he doesn’t give you any time to ask as he kisses you again so softly. His hand caresses your face, thumb rubbing your cheek as a tear falls from his face and onto yours. “But you will see me again, I promise.” As he pulls away, he places a final kiss on your forehead before stepping back towards your balcony. You let him go like you always do, but not without that horrible hole ripping through your chest.

The night of the ball drew closer, and there was no sign of Wonwoo or his brother. You were alone. The lessons ramped up, your father wanting there to be no chance of failure. You were his pawn, and he was so ready to make that final check. Your mother tried to get through the walls you put up, your sisters gushed every day about how lucky you were, how you were going to have the life of your dreams. But you weren’t. You wouldn’t be with Wonwoo. Wouldn’t be able to kiss him again, wouldn’t be able to hold him. You’d never be able to make him a dad.

“Your invitation madam?” Your mother was positively glowing with excitement, your sisters each hanging off one of your arms, you suspect to stop you from running. Your mother presents the invitation, and the guard cocks an eyebrow. “Please, this way for special guests.” You were escorted towards a separate entrance, a large pair of white wooden doors beset by giant boars on each side. The doors were parted for you, and the entrance was the most beautiful you’d ever seen. You were ushered inside, your sisters gasping and pointing at the artwork lining the walls. But your eyes were drawn to the three other girls.

“They’re your competition child.” Your father pulled you aside from your sisters and scanned you from head to toe. “But you’ve got a brain to best all of them. Be smart, be strong. Be the girl I raised you to be.” You glanced back over to them. Each one you knew to be a member of one of the aristocracies, as you were. You vaguely remember having a run in with the half-elf, but if she remembered you, she gave nothing away in the cold gaze she returned.

“If everyone is now here?” A voice sounded from the stairs above you. Your eyes followed where it was coming from, and the woman you saw standing there was the most beautiful you had ever seen. Dark eyes, with even darker hair cascading down her back that held soft curls that bounced as she began to walk towards you all. You had never seen this woman before, but something pulled at you from your stomach as if you recognised her.

“You are all chosen specifically by the princes themselves. My sister's sons wouldn’t allow for our intervention, so feel very lucky. Some of you would never have made it this far.” Her eyes fell on you at this, and your father bristled beside you. “Now, if you’ll follow me.” She sauntered towards the large doors across the marbled floors. You moved to follow the queen's sister, silently cursing yourself for not recognising her as your legs pulled you along before your brain could think of a reason to turn and run. She demanded that the girls line up, manhandling you all into a line with you left on the end. Your families were to follow along behind, and not say a word.

There was a commotion behind the doors, music filled whatever room you were about to be ushered into and laughter and conversations could barely be heard through these giant doors. You tried to smooth out the non-existent wrinkles of your dress, hands moving on their own as you chewed on your bottom lip.

There was a moment of silence before the doors swung open, and an even longer moment of silence when all the eyes in the ballroom fell upon you. Your gaze flitted from person to person, not a single face you couldn’t put a name to. Families with daughters much better suited for this match burned holes into your skull from jealousy. You were standing there, with the whole world at your fingertips and their daughter wasn’t.

You were ushered down the steps before you, the sea of people parting as the four of you made your ways forward. Your eyes were on the floor as you had been instructed to do so, never for a second daring to look upon the men sitting at the other end of the ballroom.

“This is the half-elf Carmae of the Boat Merchant.” You were right about recognising her then.

“This is the high elf Dauphine of the Gold Merchant.” You heard her light steps, the small “Hello sirs.” that sounded so beautiful falling from her lips as she greeted the men.

“This is the wood elf Avalynne of the Cloth Merchant.” You were next.

“This is the human Y/n of the Apothecary Merchant.” You stepped forward, curtseying as you were taught, eyes moving up to acknowledge the men before you.

“Hello sirs-“ Those eyes. That smile. Wonwoo sat before you, hand rested on his chin as he surveyed you. You felt a churning in your stomach as you let your eyes fall upon Seokmin beside him. His soft curls sat upon his head as he smiled ever so softly at you.

“We can now begin.” The music started up again as the crowd of people swallowed you up. Your sisters beamed at you as people swarmed you. They wanted to know where you got your dress “The Facemaker.” You politely replied. Who did your hair? “My mother wanted to.” You smiled at them. You were pulled from conversation to conversation. Every family wanted a piece of you. But your mind was back on Wonwoo. Your heart calling out to him across the floor.

His eyes followed you, dark and cold like you’d never seen them before.

“Wonwoo, calm down. She’s yours I’m not going to take her.” Seokmin leant over to his older brother, giggling slightly at the older man’s demeanour.

“I know you’re not. But they might.” He followed his brother’s gaze to the men being introduced to you by their fathers. “It seems like being the prince’s chosen gives a girl a certain…” His eyes scanned the crowd of men now surrounding you. Your father ever so keen to get you introduced to as many of them as possible. You were trying to be amicable, that soft smile on your face hiding the discomfort you felt. The burn of jealousy coursed through his veins as he watched you laugh and smile at these fools. If only they knew what he’d done to you, the noises he could pull from you with just his tongue or fingers. The way you beg him to cum in you, the tears in your eyes as he fucks you through another orgasm. You’d be too much for those idiots, they couldn’t make you feel how he did. Couldn’t make your body react the way he did.

“The princes will now have their first dance with each of the chosen.” Wonwoo and Seokmin stood, and the floor was cleared again. You finally found yourself walking back towards the man who held your heart in his hands and smiled. Wonwoo noticed that it finally reached your eyes.

“It is lovely to meet you Y/n.” He placed a soft kiss against the back of your hand.

“It is my honour sir.” You smiled even wider this time as he drew you closer as the music began.

“I hope you’re a good dancer.” He flashed you that dazzling smile once more as the music began up again.

“I hope you are too sir.” You felt the flush creep up your cheeks as the two of you started to dance. Your eyes glued to his as he led you across the floor, his never once leaving yours. You finally got what he meant that morning. While this was a surprise, you’d help him play the part for as long as it took to get your Wonwoo back.

[fuzybby]

Punishment

Gale x F!Reader

Synopsis: You haven't been doing the best in your classes, and Mr. Dekarios needs a better way to punish you.

CW: spanking, fingering(?), no penetrative sex, Gale is a Professor, student and teacher relationship! (not healthy in real life but this is fiction)

1.4k words, enjoy!

The sun peaking through the window is what woke me up from slumber. The bright rays felt warm against my face, and I instinctively tried to swat them away.

Fuck.

Another day of class. Not that the class is horrible, it's actually quite thrilling learning of the adventures from my Professor, the problem is how hot my Professor is.

Professor Dekarios. The man that he is. He keeps his hair in a half bun everyday. His beard is scruffy and I wonder what it would feel like against my neck, my chest, in between my thighs..

I can feel the wetness between my legs already. Another day where I go to class soaking wet for my teacher. The teacher.

If my friends had known I had the hots for him, they'd never let me live it down. Or, they'd agree to also wanting to fuck him, but I doubt that's the case. Many people don't actually enjoy Professor Dekarios's class, they say he rambles too much. The study of Arcana can be difficult at times, especially when the teacher is watching your every move with his sultry brown eyes..

Stop thinking!

I groan and finally get out of bed, rubbing the bridge of my nose with my pointer finger and thumb as I try to calm myself down. There's no need to work myself up before every class thinking of him.

I dress and eat, going about my morning routine as if I'm not insanely horny, before finally grabbing my books and making my way to The Study of Magic building on campus.

I find my regular seat, not right in front but not right in the middle of the rows. The closer to the front, the closer I am to the writing on the chalkboard so I can take notes. That part is real, I need to get better at focusing for class, because as of right now, my assignments I have been handing in are only getting average marks in return.

Class ticks on and on, and I study my Professor's movements methodically. His teaching robes are dark with stripes of red going down on his shoulders. They reach the floor, which leaves absolutely nothing to the imagination. He wore his glasses today, round lenses that don't sit on his nose well, making him constantly have to push the glasses up higher on his face. His hair is messy, small grey streaks sneak into his brown locks. He is so handsome.

At the end of class, when all is dismissed, I haven't taken any notes. All I've done is watch Professor Dekarios's hands as he swung them around, his lips as he spoke, his eyes as he went through the emotions of telling his story.

Everyone in the class packs up their books in their bags, chatting freely as they leave their seats to leave. I'm slower packing up, waiting for people to leave the row first before I start shoving my books into my own bag.

I look up to find Professor Dekarios's gaze on me, I can't tell the emotion in his eyes. He makes a ‘come here' motion with his finger, to which my heart rate spikes. Am I in trouble? I think to myself.

I finish packing quickly and make my way over to him and his desk, every other classmate now out of the room.

“We need to talk.” He says with a sigh, leaning against the front of his desk and crossing his arms.

“I have threatened suspension, called your parents, I have given you so much time and leeway for you to finish assignments, and yet you refuse to get your act together.” He continues, taking off his glasses and setting them down on his desk.

“I'm sorry, I-” I try to say, trying to come up with some sort of excuse that isn't ‘all I think about is you. you're the cause of my bad grades.’

“I am running out of appropriate punishments. At this point, I'll need to spank you like a child to get my point across.” He spits out. His face has contorted to anger.

I open my mouth to speak and nothing comes out, I'm at a loss for words. Spanking? Does he mean that? My face feels hot, and I try to forget the constant throbbing that comes from my clit.

“Maybe you should then.” Is what I say. I meet his eyes to convey my seriousness. “Spank me, I mean.”

He raises an eyebrow, his jaw clenched as he looks at me.

“Fine. Set your bag down, and bend over the desk.”

I stand frozen for a minute, realising that this is happening. He moves slightly to give me more room on the desk, his anger still evident.

I slowly set my bag down on the floor and stepped up to the desk, leaning over it slightly. Placing my hands to lay flat against the mahogany. I hear my Professor before I feel him, he stands behind me and quickly lands a sharp slap to my behind. I gasp and lean forwards more, my elbows now against the table.

The sting from his hand hit me hard, even though my clothes were still on, the roughness of his hands were evident.

“Mr. Dekarios!-” I gasp out, to which he replies “Call me Gale.”

“Gale” I breathe his name. It feels good against my tongue, comfortable.

He hits me again, on the other cheek this time. I crumble forwards again, my chest hitting the desk now as I'm fully bent over. My nails claw against the wood, and my breathing becomes ragged.

“Have you learnt your lesson yet?” Gale asks me, his hand comes to lay on my ass gently, hoping to bring some sort of comfort to the situation. He presses his crotch against me, and I can feel how hard he is. I whine out a quiet “yes” as I try to push myself against him.

The friction, for even just half a second, feels so good it makes me want to cry. I've wanted this for so long, I could probably cum from just the friction.

His hand on my ass moves to cup my cunt, bringing a whimper out of me. “Please” I beg, trying to move my hips against his hand.

“Can I take these off?” He asks, his other hand moving to snap the waistband of my trousers against my skin. I nod quickly, spewing more “please”s.

Gale takes them off quickly, only pushing them down to wrap around my ankles, his fingers coming back up to my uncovered folds. spreading them open with his thumbs, my slick already coating his digits.

“How long have you been wet for?” He breathes.

“All day.”

He groans. A gutteral sound that sends shivers down my spine as his fingers move again, this time to prod at my clit. Flicking it back and forth agonisingly slowly. His other hand moves to press against my lower back, keeping me grounded against the table.

A very gentle slap is sent to my cunt, the sound of flesh slapping against wetness filled the air for only a second. I whine again, biting my lip to stop the tears that threaten to spill. I have wanted him to touch me for so long, and how here he is, teasing me as I wriggle in his grasp.

He moves back to flick my clit again, this time harder and faster. Every once in a while circling it. My hips back on their own trying to get more pleasure, more friction from him.

It doesn't take long for me to scream out that I'm cumming. My body feels on fire as ecstasy courses through my veins. My legs shake from the pleasure as Gale tuts at me. My mouth opens in a silent scream as I try to control my emotions, tears have spilled from my eyes and landed onto the desk. Remnants of the filthy things we have done.

Gale removes his hand and pulls my pants back up, tapping my ass again gently.

I turn around on wobbly legs and try to move his robes up to get to him, but he grabs my wrists and stops me in my tracks. He smirks devilishly, his next words make my legs threaten to collapse even more than before.

“Only good girls who pay attention in class get my cock.”

Before long he's sending me on my way, not even a kiss on the lips goodbye. By the time I make it back to my dorm room I'm collapsing on the bed with a squeal. I will definitely be paying better attention now.

[bitter-panacea]

Goultard's "reincarnations"

In the World of Twelve, we know of many different characters who have reincarnations. Whether they have 9 lives and keep their memories with every reincarnation like ecaflip's sons, or whether they are immortal but lose their memories at every rebirth like most eliatropes and dragons of the council.

Goultard is sort of an anomaly. Although he calls this process "reincarnation", there is no rebirth involved.

Goultard : We were friends in one of my reincarnations, and i remember i had a lot of fun with you.

We know Goultard has died before. Probably many times. But (as far as i'm aware) we only know of two specific times. One in the Dofus manga and one in Wakfu.

When goultard dies, his body simply... stays dead, until it has the time to regenerate. Goultard uses a specific word to speak of this regeneration : "recompose" himself. As in the opposite of "decompose", "putting himself back together". And he can apparently also absorb things inside him during this process???

Goultard : I must have accidentally absorbed you when I recomposed myself

In volume 5, we see Goultard die, or more accurately, we see Vald die, since at this time Vald is the one controlling the body that they share.

Vald was at the wrong place at the wrong time, got caught in a scheme that didn't concern him, and paid the price anyway. He was drugged, and his body cut in two at the waist.

Vald : No... Not... like this... I can't die... like... this...

Shortly after, the body has come back together, and Goultard makes his first appearance.

Goultard : Unfortunately for you, the plan wasn't perfect! / Homar's minion : What? Who the hell are you? / Goultard : My name is Goultard, little maggot, behold my darkness...

Goultard : ... For it is the last thing you will ever see.

I have SO MUCH to say about the way Gou's introduced in the manga but that's for another post.

Note : Goultard later "survives" similar or worse injuries. Since Vlad and Vald are said to be less powerful than Gou, i think we can imagine they're also less resistent to injuries than he is. He gets brutally impaled on the Cornu's fist in volume 17, but stays conscious and keeps trying to fight even with a giant hole in his abdomen.

Cornu Mollu : I have to admit you're taking a long time to die, it commands respect.

Just look at him teehee :)

Not dying means his body has a harder time regenerating by itself, and he requires medical attention to recover. (Arty needs it too they both got demolished in that fight)

Eni : Don't act like a child, the eniripsa suppository is the best way for you to get your strength back!

Eni : Didn't need to make a big deal out of it (slaps his ass)

Didn't need to include that, i just wanted to.

In Wakfu s01e22 Rubilax, we learn that Goultard is dead when Tristepin visits his tomb and starts to talk about what his life has been like since they parted ways.

I assume Goultard dying was the very reason they parted ways and Tristepin started adventuring on hiw own.

We have no clue what killed Goultard or for how much time he's been dead. But Tristepin is still young, and i dont think he's been on his own (with Rubi) for very long. I'd say two years at MOST.

But Goultard wakes up and says, although he was dead, he's not anymore, so really, there's no reason to worry or even ask. And they never mention it again after that.

I've seen multiple people say Goultard faked his death. I would tell them to rewatch the episode because this really does not look fake to me.

Goultard coming back from the dead exactly at the moment tristepin needed him is not a coincidence, to me it shows that goultard's "reincarnation" is at least partly a conscious decision. He could have simply stayed dead but decided otherwise.

In the Dofus manga special-issue Les Shushus de Rushu, while he is enchained and imprisoned, we can see that Goultard can sleep for years on end, entering a sort of hibernation/meditation.

Kiki : When are you going to wake up and take care of your wives? / Azra : You've been sleeping for years, it's time to get up! Wake up Goultard!

I think him dying is similar to this. To him, choosing to stay dead instead of regenerating and waking up is like staying in bed and oversleeping.

In volume 27, Goultard himself implies he doesn't know if he can die permanently.

Goultard : First of all, nobody knocked me out.... We don't even know if that's possible.

When he's dead, does his spirit go where all other spirits go when they die? No way to know. But my guess would be to say no. Since he laughed hearing Tristepin's stories, it means even dead he's somewhat conscious of what's going on around him. Maybe like a ghost?

Is he, in a way, like a walking corpse, already dead but kept alive by magic? This feels kind of puella magi madoka magica to me, but I obviously can't explain what i mean without majorly spoiling puella magi madoka magica.

[lilwifeynextdoor]

Your blog is amazing!

Imagine: You are a former feminist, a stay at home mom of many kids, and I'm your feminist friend who visits you one day. I am worried about you and ask if this is really what you want even as I rub your belly and smile. You listen to me rant, all the while thinking that what I really need is some cock and a baby or two of my own. That would keep me happy and see, part of me loves rubbing your pregnant belly already. You decide to slowly corrupt me into becoming an antifeminist breeder, friends don't let their friends remain sad. How would you manipulate me?

Thanks.

Thank you so much!! I'm sorry I took so long to respond! I've been a busy mommy and I wanted to find the time to give this a well thought out answer. Short story below:

I freed myself of feminism what feels like so long ago, but to some five years isn't a long time. Five years ago, I had fallen pregnant with my husband's first child. I dropped out of college and became a stay at home mom around my 7th month of my first pregnancy, upon my then boyfriend now husband's request. He didn't have to do too much persuading as I was already considering it due to struggling with fatigue, waddling, and brain fog. He was right, it was only going to get more difficult for me to walk to classes not to mention trying to think once in the classroom.

It was the right decision for us and his growing baby. But, most all my friendships faded now that I wasn't on campus anymore. You were the only one that came and visited me sometimes, we were best friends and we had met in women's history class. You were so inspired in that class, I could see the passion in your eyes when you spoke about feminism. I was inspired by your spirit, and for a long time I held on to the idea that feminism is about a woman's right to choose, and I made the choice to be a stay at home mom.

Our lifestyles are so different, years went by and our friendship faded more and more. Until one day you showed up at my husband's doorstep. It had been a long while since I had seen you, last we met up my husband and I had 2 children and now we have 5 with his 6th on the way.

Of course I invite you in. My husband is at work and my children are all down for a nap except for our current youngest who I am holding and nursing as we sit at the kitchen table.

You had been so worried about me recently, but now that you are here you take pause. The house was lovely and tidy, the tea I served you was comforting and delicious, and on top of that I was absolutely glowing. Then you notice, the bump I'm sporting moves as the baby inside rolls and kicks. Without thinking you start rubbing my belly, like some sort of strange magnetism, your hands were drawn to it. I scoot closer to you to invite you to continue.

"I've been worried about you" the words you've been meaning to say all this time spill out of you.

An incredulous gasp leaves me when I ask you why you've been worried about me.

"I see your posts on social media, I know this is your sixth in just as many years... congratulations by the way" You stumbled through your words. "Is this what you really want?" You look up from my belly to search my eyes for an answer.

"Of course! This is my choice" I gesture to my home. Which is to you: my cushy prison.

"No it's not, you can't tell that lie to me! I was there, I know what really happened!" You stand up, outraged. "He knocked you up and told you to drop out, he's controlling you and has kept you stuffed full of babies ever since so you can't leave! So you can't live your own life!" The passion in your voice was tinged with some kind of hurt, or jealousy?

"well hold on, you're right our first was a surprise to me. But, I am so happy. I really feel like my experiences have shown me this is the way life is meant to be." I try to soothe you, to call you down from the edge you've gotten yourself onto. "So no need to worry for me okay?" I smile to you, hoping you'll smile back.

When you smile and sit back down, I notice how worn thin you are. Your skin and hair is dull, the way you conduct yourself is full of sloppy and tired movements.

"How are you, are you happy? Have you found your calling?" I ask, but already see the answer.

"Well I'm fine. Work is okay but it's not what it was cracked up to be. All the guys at work are losers, and they are always pissing me off. I do wonder if I haven't found my calling, yeah, maybe I majored in the wrong thing." Your sharp defensive tone falls to a nagging grumble as you go on and on.

"it's a little late to start all over like that and go back to school." I point out.

"You think I should keep sticking it out and climb the ladder?" You try to muster some hope into your voice.

"Actually I was thinking the opposite, you should quit that job. Look for something easier and part time. Do you have a partner? Surely he makes more than you and wouldn't mind you leaning on him for support." I ask, thinking surely you can't have stayed single all this time.

"What do you mean surely he makes more than me?! And no I don't have a boyfriend!" You bolt up again, feeling attacked.

You stormed out on me that day with your ego bruised. But you came back around. My words still stung, because I had a point. It gnawed at you and you couldn't help but try taking my advice. You did get that part-time job, and you spent your new found extra free time at my house helping me with my children and to-do list. With working less you were already doing so much better, not near as stressed, cleared skin, and your hair had shine again.

You slowly but surely stepped away from being career focused as I got you more and more comfortable with domesticity. Women belong in the home, so it was naturally very easy for you to fit right in to the lifestyle. My husband took us shopping as I needed bigger maternity clothes and you definitely needed something more becoming of an available young woman.

Then one day, I had you stay over for dinner and my husband brought one of his colleagues home with him to have dinner with us. The match making game had begun. Now that you were completely ready to settle down and assume the natural role of a woman beneath a man, serving him and birthing his children, any man would be so lucky to have you. You've become such an enlightened woman in these modern times where so many silly girls still cling to feminism like you once did.

Today you're absolutely beaming and radiant. You've announced your pregnancy! Your husband's first baby is officially on the way. I'm so happy for you and I hug you best I can with my husband's 7th due any day now. I'm truly proud of the woman you've become and will continue to grow to be.

(I'm so sorry I'm a confrontation person and not a manipulation person, I did my best, it's still something, I hope you enjoy!)

[rispwr]

still with you - JK - SPECIAL - FINAL

pairings : ex!jk x ex!reader, barista/producer!yoongi x reader

genre : fluff, angst

context : after everything that happened, yoongi can't keep this a secret to himself. you deserved to know, little did you know he has a special suprise for you.

word count:1k+ words

warnings/contents : dirty talking, slutty lingerie, yoongi LOVES YOUR BOOBS, oral (m recieving), big c yoongi, praising, yeahh

songs : right side of my neck, the part and after the party, die for you, pied piper.

Yoongi's POV

It's been four years since I managed to get Jungkook and his wife thrown in jail. 

Four years of keeping this secret from Y/N.

 Every time I look at her, the weight of what I'm hiding grows heavier. I know she deserves to know—she has the right to know that justice was served, that those who hurt her paid the price.

 But how do you bring up something like that? How do you tell the person you love that you went behind their back to make sure the people who hurt them were punished?

I've been waiting for the right time, but maybe there's never a perfect moment for something like this.

 The thought of telling her, seeing the shock and pain on her face, has kept me silent for too long. But now... now I feel like I can't wait any longer.

As I sit on the couch, trying to distract myself with mindless TV, an idea suddenly comes to me. A way to tell her that doesn't feel like dropping a bomb on our lives. It's not perfect, but it's better than this gnawing silence.

"Heyyy, babyy! I missed youuu, hm," Y/N's voice rings out as she bursts through the door. She doesn't even pause before she's in my arms, wrapping herself around me like a warm blanket. I hug her back tightly, lifting her chin so I can see her face. There's something about the way her eyes light up when she sees me that makes everything else fade away. I lean down, brushing my lips against hers in a gentle kiss. "I missed you more," I whisper against her lips.

We pull back slightly, just enough to look at each other, but I don't let go. My hand stays on her waist, grounding us both in the moment. She looks up at me with that curious glint in her eyes—the one that always makes me think she's up to something.

"Hey, babe," she starts, her voice soft but teasing. "My friend Joonie told me that Jungkook and his wife went to jail four years ago?" She pauses, watching my reaction closely. There's a slight smile on her lips, as if she finds the whole thing bizarre.

Relief floods through me, but I keep my expression neutral, not wanting to give anything away. "Mhm?" I hum, encouraging her to continue.

She tilts her head, that small smile still playing on her lips. "Crazy, right? I didn't even know that. Do you know why he got into jail?"

I force myself to shrug casually, keeping my tone light. "I've heard some things, but I don't know the full story," I lie, letting her take the lead in the conversation. My heart pounds in my chest, but I keep my face relaxed, waiting to see where she takes this.

She nods, her expression thoughtful. "I guess it's for the best, though," she says quietly. "After everything... it feels like some sort of closure, you know?"

I nod along, my throat tightening at her words. I want so badly to tell her the truth, to show her that I was the one who made sure justice was served. But I bite my tongue, knowing it's not the right moment yet. Not here, not now.

As the conversation shifts to other topics, I can't help but feel the tension ease a little. We talk about our plans for the evening, and before I know it, Y/N is inviting me to watch horror movies with her later that night. I agree, relieved that she doesn't seem to suspect anything.

Weeks pass, and Halloween is just around the corner. Y/N's been talking about it for days, excited to spend the holiday with her family. She loves Halloween—everything from the spooky decorations to the scary movies, it's like she's a kid again. I decide to surprise her, booking us a Halloween vacation with her family.

The night before we leave, I take her to get her nails done, making sure everything is perfect. I want this trip to be special, not just because it's Halloween, but because I know what's coming. I've been planning this for weeks, and now it's finally time.

We arrive at the vacation spot—a cozy cabin decorated for Halloween—and Y/N is absolutely in love with it. The place is decked out with all the classic decorations: carved pumpkins, cobwebs, and a few strategically placed skeletons. It's perfect.

As we settle into our room, I turn to her, my heart pounding in my chest. "Hey, I have a present for you," I say, trying to keep my voice steady. She looks up at me, surprised but intrigued.

"A present? What's the occasion?" she asks with a grin.

"You'll see," I say, my tone teasing. But then I take a deep breath, my expression growing serious. "But before I give it to you, you have to promise me one thing."

She looks at me curiously, her head tilting to the side. "What's that?"

"You have to promise me you won't be mad," I say, my voice soft but firm.

Her brows furrow in confusion, but she nods slowly. "Okay... I promise."

I walk over to my bag, pulling out a folder that I've kept hidden for four years. My hands tremble slightly as I hand it to her, my heart in my throat. "This is for you. Everything you need to know. Just... take your time with it."

She takes the folder from me, her expression shifting from curiosity to something more serious. She opens it slowly, her eyes scanning the contents. As she reads, I see the color drain from her face, her eyes widening in shock and disbelief.

"Yoongi... what is this?" she whispers, her voice shaking.

"It's everything," I say quietly. "Everything that happened. the reports and the justice that was served. I... I made sure they paid for what they did to you. I couldn't let them get away with it."

Tears well up in her eyes as she continues to read, her hands trembling. "You... you did this? For me?"

I nod, my heart breaking as I see the pain and disbelief on her face. "I'm sorry I didn't tell you sooner. I just... I wanted to protect you. I wanted to make sure you were okay before I brought all this up."

She looks up at me, tears streaming down her face. "Yoongi... I... I can't believe you did this. I thought..."

I move closer, wrapping my arms around her as she breaks down in my arms. "You don't have to live with it anymore," I whisper into her hair. "You're free now, Y/N. You're safe."

We stay like that for a long time, holding each other as she cries. I can feel the weight of the past four years finally lifting off her shoulders, and it's the most beautiful thing I've ever seen.

Later that evening

after she's had time to process everything, I ask her to come downstairs with me. She's still a bit shaky, her emotions raw, but she nods and follows me.

When we get downstairs, she gasps in surprise. The room is decorated in a soft, romantic purple theme—her favorite color. There are fairy lights strung up everywhere, casting a warm, magical glow over the room. In the center, there's a small table with candles and flowers, and in the background, our favorite song is playing softly.

"Yoongi... what is this?" she asks, her voice filled with awe.

I take a deep breath, my heart pounding in my chest. "This... this is the second part of your gift," I say, reaching into my pocket and pulling out a small velvet box. I drop down on one knee, holding the box out to her. "Y/N, these past few years with you have been the happiest of my life. You've brought me more joy than I ever thought possible, and I want to spend the rest of my life making you as happy as you've made me."

I open the box, revealing the ring inside..an elegant design that I know she'll love. "Will you marry me, Y/N?"

Her hands fly to her mouth, her eyes wide with shock and happiness. Tears well up in her eyes again, but this time they're tears of joy. She nods, a sob escaping her lips as she whispers, "Yes... yes, Yoongi, I'll marry you."

I slip the ring onto her finger, and she pulls me up into a tight hug, burying her face in my chest as she cries happy tears. I hold her close, feeling like the luckiest man in the world.

As we stand there, wrapped in each other's arms, I know that this is just the beginning of our forever. 

later

we then get to our room as i slowly put her on the bed. "baby i love you so much" she said wrapping her arms around my neck, showering me with kisses. "you've been a good boy" she then says as her hands makes its way from my neck to my lips, her thumb caressing my bottom lip, sending shivers down my spine. 

"mhm?" i hummed "i think for everything you've done for me all these years...you need a reward" she gives me a seductive smile. "i think i do" i replied to her. 

my lips then brushed against hers. our kiss becoming more and more intimate, her hands makes its way to unbutton my pants. "impatient much?" i chuckled "mhm so what if i am?" she says. i then pull up her grey silky dress up, revealing her purple lacy panties. 

soaking wet. 

"may i?" i asked her, making sure i have her consent. "ofcourse you can yoongi" she nods 

i then rubbed her clothed, soaking folds. "so wet?" i look at her making eye contact as the more i rubbed the more she releases her arousal. "please yoongi" i then finally take off her dress revealing her bra. 

her lacy purple bra with a tied bow that i needed to untie in order to take it off. "like it? it's your reward baby" she says, smirking at me, her fingers drawing patterns on my arm. "costume made?" i ask as she hummed. 

"best present ever" i murmurred as i gently untie her bra, taking my time to be gentle as much as i can. 

the bra fell revealing her bare breast. i then starts circling my tounge all over her nipple as she lets out whiny noises. 

she then stops me and orders me to sit down, my back resting on the headboard. 

"okay princess. whatever you want" i follow her order and do what she told me to do.

she then lays on her stomach, unzipping my zipper and pulls down my pants along with my underwear. 

she took her hands and teasingly started stroking it "mhm?" she says as she fastens her pace. i rocked my head back from her touch "fuck y/n" i grunt as she then starts putting it in her mouth.

normally with anyone of even my hand it would always take me so long for me to come but with y/n fuck. just her and that slutty lingere can already make me come. 

i felt my orgasm starts getting close "fuck y-y/n...i-i-i'm c-close" i stuttered from all the pleasure i've felt. "can i come??" i asked her, panting. sweat dripping over me. 

as soon as i saw her nod i then finally release my come. she took her mouth away taking my cock to her face as i release my cum on her face. 

she then gives the tip of my cock a kiss before going to me. 

i cupped her face "fuck. you're so beautifull" i praised her, taking my white release from her face to her breast. 

we then switched places. she was now under me.

"can i?" i asked again as my tip brushes her entrance. "mhm" she nods. i then put my cock in, giving her time to stretch herself and adjust to my size. "tell me when i can move" i tell her. "you can m-move now" she replies. i then start to thrust into her, my hands cupping her boobs. 

"f-fuck.. you drive me so crazy y/n" i grunt as i fasten my pace. i then took my hand from her boob to her clit, circling it making her body arch from the pleasure. "a-ahh yoongi!" she screams "like it??" i asks her "m-mhm" she moans. "words baby. words" i said lifting her chin "yes! yes.. please" she replies to me, her eyes rolling back from the pleasure. 

"i'm cumming" she says "me too" i reply. "c-cum in me yoongi. please" she begs me. 

i then finally felt my orgasm again as i finally release into her, covering up her walls into white as our cum mixes together.

i then pull out and gets a wet wipe from the bedside to wipe the mess i made with her, giving her aftercare. "you tired?" i ask her as she gasps for air. "no. care for a round 2?" she fires back making me chuckle "such a dirty girl"

few weeks later Yoongi's POV

The room was filled with soft laughter and the faint sound of wedding planning. Y/N and I were sitting at the kitchen table, surrounded by swatches of fabric, invitations, and a laptop open to various wedding venues. It was one of those rare, quiet moments where everything felt perfect.

"Yoongi, what do you think of this color scheme?" Y/N asked, holding up a piece of paper with a mix of lavender and deep purple shades.

I leaned over, taking a closer look. "It's beautiful. It'll look amazing with the decorations we talked about."

Y/N smiled, clearly pleased. "I think so too. And what about the invitations? Do you like this design?"

She showed me a mock-up of our wedding invitation, with elegant script and floral accents. I nodded, feeling a rush of excitement. "It's perfect. I think it's exactly what we want."

As we continued discussing details, an idea struck me. I reached for the stack of invitations and picked one up.

I took out one of the invitations and carefully addressed it to Jungkook. After sealing it in an envelope, I set it aside to be mailed

[everythingne]

out of the woods - ls2 [2]

With a home race that couldn't go better, Dhanishka feels the confidence to let loose. But, Bahrain's post race celebration brings up some confusing feelings Dhanishka definitely won't handle the best. Charles plays the disappointed older brother role very well, Daniel is a bit of an enabler as is Lando, who also wins a bet with McLaren. Also, the FIA makes a weird call.

logan sargeant x ferrari!ex!oc

fc: iffat marash (and other pinterest girlies)

warnings/notes: mentions of past car accidents, drunkeness, a makeout scene, tbh if logan looked at me the way i describe here i would fold oops. conflicting feelings here for miss dubey

(part one) (part three)

Bahrain hasn't even started, my home race hasn't even started, and I already feel like I'm about to snap. I knew coming into this race there was a lot of pressure on me to do well, not to mention how basically everyone I knew and their fucking mother was here, but from Ferrari alone. This was the season they planned to solidify Charles and I next to Red Bull. They'd been secretive about their car, their plans, and whatever, just to hopefully psyche out the other teams.

Personally, I just wanted to win for myself, but thats a whole other story.

When I walk in the race, cameras are on me faster than I can say my name, thousands of eyes watching the only rookie this season as she makes her way into her paddock. Inside the paddock is no better, and the garage can't even be a safe haven as reporters walking the pit lane try to get video of me and Charles greeting eachother.

He's like a bright red beacon of safety admist the chaos of this morning. He hands me a coffee, says it's supposed to be some sort of weird chai thing. It tastes... like slightly more bitter and heavily espresso filled chai. But I drink it anyway because lord knows I need the energy.

"You look stressed, is it the race?" Charles asks after our debriefing, when I'm working on reaction times. I keep working at whacking the buttons, eyes trained on the center as I also work my periphery.

"I think so." I say, uninterested, and Charles purposefully messes up the game so I look at him with a loud exclamation. He grins, and I get now why Arthur had punched Charles in the arm as a greeting once. He looks like a cat that knows it's done something wrong, but smugly doesn't care. Like my aunt's big brown cat named Porsche.

They'd bought her a 'Porsche' for her birthday that year. Haha.

"What's it actually?" Charles asks when I catch my breath a little, taking a big gulp of water and then sipping on the coffee-chai-thing.

"I talked to Logan after we left the resturant and I can't stop thinking about it." I set down the cup and go to return to the game before Charles grabs my wrist and pulls me back.

"Do you wanna talk about it before the race? Maybe get it out of your system so it doesn't affect you while driving?"

"You're talking like you speak from experience."

"Maybe I do." He hums and I huff through my nose, before grabbing both of my drinks when he nods his head back to his drivers room. Probably the only place here we could get privacy. He pops me down on his couch and sits next to me, motioning for me to talk.

I stammer a bit before sighing, “Logan still thinks it’s my fault. He still thinks I had something to do with the accident. And I’m a fucking idiot because I still love him.”

Charles’ eyes widen as I lean forward and huff, rubbing my forehead as I keep talking, “I still love him after three years. And he doesn’t love me back and that hurts but I can’t do anything about it.”

"you still love him?" He asks and I nod, and then hitch forward with a sharp gasp. It's like saying the words out loud have thrown every possible emotion in my face. Anger at him for breaking up, regret for not chasing him, a deep sorrow for the things we'd lost. He had been my first love, something so innocent. I didn't know how I was supposed to live without him.

"I do," I whisper through the lump in my throat, "I love him, but I can't even look at him without feeling sick."

For once with all the issues I've come to tell Charles about, this is one that stumps him. But he wraps an arm around me, pulling him to his side as he rubs his hand along my back and I curl into his touch. I don't exactly cry, but I more so just hyperventilate.

And it takes maybe ten minutes for me to calm down fully and when I do, Charles squeezes my hands.

"No matter what happens, I've got you." He says softly, "just like at dinner, I've got you."

I nod and he hands me a tissue, I fix up my makeup and stand, letting him escort me back out to the garage so we can go get out fireproofs and race suits.

The sun is long set when we start the race, the warm up lap making my nerves spark as my fingers twitch on the steering wheel. I knew Bahrain's track like the backs of my hands, I knew exactly what to expect and what to do and where to go. Starting p8 wasn't terrible, I would've preferred to be higher but I'll take what I can get. In front of me is Yuki, Carlos, Daniel, Charles, Oscar, Lando, and Max. With Logan directly behind me and Alex behind him.

I'm not super worried about Alex, but Logan had a pretty similar driving style to me so I worry about him coming and overtaking me. I know I can overtake Yuki, Carlos, and Daniel if I give myself time and risk going wide when it comes to Carlos, but Lando, Oscar and Max will be my biggest competition. Though I'm not sure about Charles, I guess it depends on what we're told on the radio.

Within the first five laps, I've gotten past Yuki and Carlos, but Daniel's giving me a run for my money. Charles even tries helping, but it's no use, and I take my place behind Daniel for the foreseeable future. I don't mind it, holding P6 at the beginning isn't the worst scenario. I just have to wait until people starting going in for tire changes and such, hopefully I'll be able to use that to get around.

Eventually, Daniel understeers and it gives me a perfect opportunity to whip around him and I solidify myself in P5. Oscar's ahead of me, Lando ahead of him, Charles in P2 and then Max holds P1. Charles is fighting him for it and I'm impressed with how we're doing so far.

At some point Logan comes up behind me, I'm only alerted via the radio for half a second before I see him try and push me to the edge of the track. I speed up, purposefully oversteering the turn to knock him off my back.

By the end of the race, I find myself P3 by a goddamn thread. Lando having wing damage making it easier for me to snag around him in one of the last turns. Charles isn't far ahead of me, and Max holds his P1 usual. Lando's P4, Oscar P5, and Logan P6. Everyone else is pretty much scrambled, almost all the racers overtaking someone multiple times throughout the race.

I can't really feel anything under the thrum of my excitement, Charles coming up behind me and lifting me off the ground in celebration as Max laughs from a distance. We're making our way to the stage for the podium, helmets off and a hat secured over my head to block out the sun and my post-race helmet hair.

"Lets go! 'Ishka!" Charles jumps and I laugh, whacking him on the head as he hoists me in the air.

"Congrats, kid." Max grabs the brim of my hat and yanks it down, making me yelp in surprise as Charles sets me down. I fix the brim of my hat while Charles laughs, trying to help me yank down Max's hat too before I'm called to walk up on stage.

The roar of the audience is deafening, the announcement a warble as I take the trophy with a thank you and shook the hand of the woman who gave it to me. I lift it above my head, the noise only growing, and I can't help the satisfied shout that leaves my throat in celebration.

Dipping back into the paddock, I see Logan being ushered away from me by Alex. Even though the sight of him makes my throat close and stomach drop, I try to keep my head up. I try to not let it affect me, but I know it does.

I told Logan the truth. I let him him go because he wanted to go. Nothing Logan did now would change the way my heart ached for him. In F2 I learned quickly to shove my emotions down and never let them escape me, and when I wasn't in the safety of Charles' company, I felt like I had fallen back into that same routine again.

Cold, sharper than a tack, everything rolled right off. I bit my tongue when necessary, fought back only when provoked.

It was nothing like how I had been before Trident. That much was known. But I wasn't about to be used again. Never again.

A few hours later, we're at the hotel Charles is staying in, him laying face first on his bed while I fix up my makeup in a mirror for the upteenth time. Another night out is in order to celebrate the season kickoff, Max inviting Charles and I along with him, Daniel, and Carlos to some sort club I've been to a hundred times already.

Once I've used Charles' bathroom to change into my clothes for the night, I'm wrapping a large Ferrari jacket around myself to be a bit more 'presentable' until we get to the club. I lean into the mirror to check and secure all my jewlery before I make my way out of the bathroom.

Charles looks up from where he's sitting in one of the chairs in the hotel room, his eyes doing a quick once over before he grins and stands up. He's wearing some jeans and a loose black button-up, a gold necklace swinging before settling against his collarbones as he makes his way to my side.

"Revenge dress?" He muses to me with a smirk and I whack his arm with a loud laugh, shaking my head as I walk to grab my purse off the coffee table.

"It wasn't intended to be, but sure." I grin as I take a sip from my wine glass on the table, eyeing the now empty bottle we were using to loosely pregame the night, "Glad to see you've gotten a bit of fashion advice, the polo looks good. If Max is wearing anything Red Bull I'll choke him out."

"I'll help you." Charles laughed and hands me his wallet. I pop it in my purse without thinking, I know it's so I don't run off without him, and I pretend to be annoyed. But the action is sweet.

"We have a little private room with some of the other drivers," Charles grabs our phones off the charges and hands me mine as he pockets his, fixes his hair in some sort of habit, and then looks back to me as he grabs the handle of the door, "So, you can leave your stuff there until we leave."

"Sounds good to me." I follow him out the door, my heels clicking on the tile on the hallway as we move down to where the carpet starts. Charles turns back to me as he walks, watching me dig out my car keys. When I lift my eyes to meet him he scratches his jaw and then speaks.

"Logan's gonna be there. That's fine with you?" Charles asks. I had told him in the garage this morning about my argument with Logan. It had been eating at me, and Charles being ever the observant picked up on my shift in attitude before I did.

"I probably won't even see him, this club is always packed." I reason, even with the private room. I'd spend most of my time at the bar. If I was with my friends, also the dancefloor, but I had a suspicion I wouldn't be doing much dancing tonight.

"You sure?" Charles holds the elevator door open for me, letting me step in and press the button for the lobby. I nod, adjusting my outfit a little bit as I look over at him.

"It's fine, I'm over it." I shrug, looking at myself in the mirrored doors of the elevator and fixing up my hair loosely. I can feel the elevator slowly start to lower and I grin at myself.

Maybe it was the confidence from my win, but I looked good tonight.

"You cried over him this morning and now you're saying you're over it?" Charles hums, thinking back clearly to me frustrated for no reason this morning and his intervention with led to me half-hyperventilating into his chest.

"I got P3 in my first F1 race, Charles. No one can touch me. I'm hot, sexy, and breaking the Ferrari curse." I playfully do a little z-snap that has Charles chuckling as the doors open to the lobby and he brings me out to an awaiting car. This was something else I would never get used to, how we all just kinda casually had luxury vehicles. Now, my parents were well off, my father a CEO and my mother a tailor, and they had plenty of money to give to me and my sister if we needed it. But it hadn't always been that way. So the Ferrari just idling outside the hotel, clearly brought over by Ferrari for Charles and I to drive like once this whole weekend is a shock to me.

He lets me in the back, then gets in the passengers, instructing the driver on where to go while I lean back with a content sigh and watch the streetlights pass.

dhanishkadubey made a new post!

liked by logansargeant, oscarpiastri, charlesleclerc, and 254k others...

dhanishkadubey: kicking off the start of a wonderful szn. much love to the tifosi 🏎️ ❤️ (📷: @ charlesleclerc)

charlesleclerc: ❤️

danielricciardo: this bitch drinks fireball like water.

dhanishkadubey: ur rlly exposing me like this danny :(?

user1: congrats on p3!!!

oscarpiastri: go dhanishka go !!

user2: tensions rising in the loscar fandom tn

maxverstappen: great start to your rookie year, dhanishka :)

anyadubey: YAAA THATS MY SEXY SISTER!!!

user3: actually in love w her.

When we arrive at the club, the place is already going hard. Early 2000s music pulses from various speakers, the lights flashing to the beat of who I think is Britney Spears mixed with that one song from Saltburn. It's Daniel who greets us in the upstairs room, showing me where to leave my bag and jacket while Charles is escorted off to the side by Pierre and Max. I spot Esteban and Lance chatting idly with Magnussen and some other racers. It's odd combinations tonight, as the grouping strays from the normal clumps of friends, but it means I find myself engrossed in a conversation with Alex and George maybe thirty minutes after getting inside.

"I seriously thought you were gonna be much meaner!" George shouts over the pulsing music and I laugh as he hands me my drink from the bartender. I thank him softly and take a big sip, nodding at the sour taste im expecting from the cocktail.

Catching George's eye, I tease, "Do you want me to be?"

"God no," George waves a hand in my direction with a soft laugh, something playful and almost childlike gleaming in his eyes as he tilts his head, "Carmen's plenty mean to me."

"Oh stop!" Alex scoffs, whacking George's arm, "As if Carmen's little jabs equate to Lily's!"

"Didn't you literally call Lily the doll from Squid Game?" I ask, then pop my straw in my mouth and take a slow sip. Alex freezes as if he's been caught red handed, and George suppresses a giggle.

"Look..." Alex holds up a hand in defense but George and I are laughing too hard to really hear whatever excuse he uses to defend his actions.

"Okay, can I ask you a question, Dhanishka?" Alex asks after we've calmed down, leaning forward on the bar as I settle in my seat with George on my other side. I nod and he swallows and I can see him roll the question through his head. He takes a sip of his drink, swallows, and turns to ask, "If you wanna answer, what exactly happened with you and Logan? 'Cause he's been moping since you got announced to be racing with Ferrari and I might lose my mind if he doesn't knock it off."

"Oh god," I say into my midori sour, taking the bitter drink into my mouth and swallowing it and setting my hand over the cup. George leans over to look, head slightly tilted like a puppy as Alex quickly speaks up.

"If you don't wanna say anything, it's fine, but--"

"--No, no. It's fine Alex," I wave a hand, "uhm, Logan and I started dating when we were racing in Renault, but we'd been kinda... I guess flirty since the end of our formative years and into like secondary school. We were... I was fifteen, so he was seventeen or sixteen at the time? It was just like... puppy love, y'know? Pure and innocent, nothing too serious.

"And, we were both in love and it was nice. It really was nice. But, when that crash happened with Trident, I think something snapped in him. I... the breakup... it came from nowhere. I don't know if it was because he was mad, thinking I had something to do with it, or if he just... didn't know what to do and needed control after Trident took that P2 position from him? I don't know. We hadn't spoken since that day until last night."

"You talked to him last night?" Alex asks with slightly wide eyes and I nod, taking another sip of my drink.

"We argued about it last night while waiting to leave." I sigh, rolling my shoulders as I pop the straw between my lips and take a long slow sip, then speak, "He thought I had something to do with the crash, I told him I didn't, he asked me why I let him leave--which, Alex, feel free to tell him I think that's a dumb fucking question. I wasn't gonna force him to stay if he was unhappy, or if he didn't wanna date anymore. I'm not a monster."

"Wait, wait," George waves a hand to grab my attention and I turn to him with a soft hum, "So is he mad at you?"

"I don't know," I finish off my drink, noticing both George and Alex are not even halfway down their respective drinks, "I can't tell with him. I would completely understand if he was furious about everything, but none of it was my fault. I didn't even know Trident planned to crash into him!"

"I'm gonna try talking to him," Alex looks over at someone to the right of me and I don't have to look to know he means Logan's there. I nod, sip my drink, and excuse myself to go back to the room. George escorts me up there, to make sure I'm fine, and then leaves me to Daniel who grins.

"You've had something to drink, right?" He asks and I nod, but happily join him and Lando at the bar for shots of various alcohols. And I end up drinking a few glasses of soju back to back with Max at one point, introducing him and Checo to different flavors while Daniel laughs at Max's shock over how everything just tastes like a slightly sour juice. I'm finishing my fourth glass of soju when I start to feel woozy. Taking a water from the bartender, I count the drinks I've had in my head and roughly equate them to about a handle of alcohol.

Lando orders a final round of shots for us, Fireball burning down my throat.

"Danny!" I call to the Australian, who turns in a full circle before realizing wher eI am. He nods and steps closer so I don't have to shout.

"The bathrooms right there," I point to a hallway and Daniel nods, "Can you grab my stuff and I'll meet you guys by the door?"

"Yeah, just be quick! Text me if you need anything." He squeezes my wrist and I nod, slipping away and down the stairs that lead tot he dark bathrooms. Once I'm done, I step out into the hall looking down at my phone when I slip on water pooled by the door. Or what I hope is water.

A hand juts out, catching me by the waist and tugging me forward so I'm no longer falling backwards. The firm hand is familiar, and when I glance up to thank the man who caught me I make eye contact with Logan. I resist the urge to make some rude comment and thank him softly instead.

"Are you gonna tell everyone about us dating?" He asks instead and I scoff.

"Are you gonna start a fight every time I see you?" I rebuke, and then shrug, "Alex and George asked. And if I said no, they could just look it up. I didn't say any apecifics, just the bulk."

Logan looks a little relieved at that, almost like he was nervous about their reactions if they knew every little thing that we'd done. Truth be told, puppy love was the best way to describe us back then. Stolen chaste kisses, giddy smiles when holding hands, little meaningful gifts, late night texts that led to sleepy smiles the next day. I was sure he'd had something more... mature after he'd broken it off. I had rationalized in my head that was why he broke it off. I'd never know the real reason, I wasn't going to ask.

"You..." Logan finally lets go of my waist, and in the low light I see his eyes sweep over me with a look I want to decipher. I've lost the key to his brain, and I know I won't be finding it any time soon.

"You look as beautiful as the day I left you, more so now... but," He laughs, shaking his head, "Sorry, I had too much to drink. I shouldn't."

"You shouldn't." I agree, but a tiny smile curls at my lips, "But thank you."

Logan looks at me for a long moment and I return the gaze, our eyes spelling out stories of his hands carding through my hair, laying on a blanket on the roof of his London apartment and listening to music in shared earbuds, us cheering on Oscar when he'd asked Lily out and celebrating with him after.

He was so much of my past, and somehow I found that I wished he could fit into my future.

"Can I ask one thing?" Logan says, the music pulsing above us louder now, making his voice get swallowed by the music. I step closer to hear him as I nod, throat dry as trepidation rolls across my skin, his lips part, and it takes a second for him to ask, "Can we not fight? I don't think I can ever see you look angry at me again, I've been replaying our argument outside the restaurant for days now.

"I don't wanna leave our past behind us and move on," He continues when I gape at him, "I loved you back then, maybe I still do now or maybe its the fact I'm so drunk the world is spinning, but you were such a big piece of my life. I've known you since we were kids, Dhanishka I can't let go of you now that I've got you back."

His heart is being held out for me, hands shaking as he stares at me, and I just stare back. Just friends, I tell myself. That's all we'll be.

"You know," I start, and I can feel its my heart and blood alcohol content leading the conversation and not my brain, "I do think I still love you--or maybe its the fact I'm just as drunk as you are, if not worse. You made my life, you made me who I am, from the stupid jokes to the little kisses behind our garages, or sneaking into eachother drivers rooms to nap..."

I swallow my pride, "I won't let go of you this time."

He grins and on wobbly legs he takes me into a hug, I let his arms wrap around my waist, hands warm against my skin as I throw my arms around his neck. The stairs squeak behind us, and we step back, but I don't see anyone come down. When I turn back to him, I find he's still looking, and as the music shakes the walls and rolls into my skin, I find one of my hands cupping his jaw. His breath cuts short, lips parting as his tongue darts out.

It's so dumb how easily I fall back in love with Logan Sargeant.

He dips down before I can think to pull back, slotting his lips against mine, and I welcome it. His grip on me tightens as he tugs me back in, bunching fabric under his fingernails as he gasps when I nip his lip.

"We shouldn't do this." He gasps between a kiss he drives, only to be cut off by me stepping closer to keep our lips dancing. He turns us, pressing my shoulders to a wall, cornering me underneath him, and I bite back a whine in the back of my throat.

"We shouldn't," I agree, and gasp when he moves closer, his hands sliding down to guide my hips towards him as his knee knocks mine apart. He steps one foot between mine, leaning into me, and I can't help the whine he forces out of my lips this time. And when I see his satisfied grin, I can't help the tiny bashful smile that pokes at my own lips.

"You're an asshole." I breathe against his lips, the club pulses above us, footsteps creaking on the stairs, but in that moment we dont feel the pull of the crowd singing and dancing. His hands grip my waist through the thin fabric of my black dress, pulling me in, and I feel everything. His chest hits mine with his sharp breath in, our eyes finding each other and holding a gaze I feel as bitter as the tequila in my stomach.

"I know," He pulls me in by wrapping his arm around my waist, hand finding my jaw and tugging me impossibly closer. Our lips meet again, all heat and fervor and my hands find the back of his head, knocking our teeth when I tug him in after he breaks the kiss.

22R stains his lips and I see it on his teeth when he grins, memories flicker through my eyes. He tastes like expensive whiskey and rum, a hint of shitty bottled beer taps my tonsils when I swallow. He tastes like everything I should run from and yet, I crave more.

"Dhanishka!" Charles calls for me somewhere in the club, voice loud against the music, and I step back. Reaching out to grab my wrist, Logan pulls me in once more, his thumb runs along my lower lip, fixing the smudged lipstick in the dark, dingy bathroom hall. I don't know what to say, I don't know if this is a moment where I'm even supposed to say anything.

"Danny!" Daniel shouts, coming to the hall of the bathroom and I push Logan back into the men's room and slam the door shut before he can say anything.

"There you are!" Charles calls and I wave, turning to them.

"Sorry," I giggle, the warmth of the kiss on my face as I feel the ghosts of Logan's hands on my skin, "I think I had a little too much."

"So did Max," Daniel snorts, flicking on his phone flashlight so I can properly see the stairs as I make my way over to where they stand halfway down them. I hear the men's room door creak and turn back to catch Logan's eye as Charles grabs my wrist and carts me upstairs.

We share a tiny grin between us, charged by drunken decisions, it's our moment. No one else sees. Or if they do, they don't say a word But Charles' grip on my wrist tightens, and I have an odd feeling we might not have been as alone as we thought we were in that hallway.

taglist (thank you!)

@chasing-liberosis @justsomejess @struggling-with-delia

[jewishvitya]

Do you live in Israel or are you just from there? If you do live there, is it scary to be pro-Palestine? I am kind of unclear on what the long-term plan would be when we free Palestine and that seems like the sort of thing you would know, can you help me out? Would settlers continue to live there?

I live in Israel, yeah.

It can be... Isolating. Sad. Horrifying. I lost friends, I can't speak to family members. Scary is... I don't know if that's the word?

Living in a reality of violence is scary, and I do have trauma from the things I experienced. Thunder sounds too much like explosions, if I don't expect it I can get panic attacks just from that. But being pro-Palestine isn't really a factor there.

Yesterday I spoke to an Israeli Palestinian and we spoke about Gaza. We spoke about how I'm worried for several people I personally talked to, how I'm worried for their families and friends and all the fear and grief they're dealing with, how he's been crying every day. We talked about how unnecessary this all is. About how "getting rid of Hamas" is such a useless goal when the destruction will just create the next generation of fighters, and we're killing so many people and ruining so many lives for nothing. We both have children and talked about how we can't imagine having to starve just to make sure the bits of food we have go to them, because children succumb to death from starvation and dehydration first.

He told me, "If a police officer heard us now, we'd both be arrested." He told me he wants to keep his head down, make money to take care of his children, go back home, live his life. And he told me "You know how strong the racism is, because they're racist to you for caring about us." And I wouldn't really put it in these terms, they're not racist to me. But I'm in the splash zone, in a way, by positioning myself close to Palestinians through sympathy and through trying to align myself with their liberation as best I can. And I do feel it. I'm worried about how I might get treated sometimes. It can impact so many things in my life.

But the person I talked to, being in his position is scary.

Me, I'm heartbroken. I'm furious. Seriously, I'm so fucking angry. Not really scared. That's privilege, I guess.

I'm not sure I can answer that too well. Palestinians write about what liberation looks like for them, and my reading process is very slow. So I can't give you any clarity.

If I'm speculating, I'd imagine Palestinians will want their lands back. I don't think we should get to just keep what we stole. This doesn't mean there will be no place for us at all. But I'd imagine a lot of things will have to change and move.

I mean, I spoke to a person from Gaza and I told him what city I live in. He didn't say "Get out of there, how dare you." He said something along the lines of, "I wish I could visit. My close friend is from there. He should have been your neighbor."

The desire to visit came up in conversations with multiple people, it genuinely breaks my heart.

Obviously I can't control what the solution will look like, and the long term will depend on so many factors. But conversations like this one are where I get my picture of what I should be aiming for, if that makes sense. Until I read what I need to and I'm better informed about what Palestinians want this to look like.

[am-i-the-asshole-official]

AITAH for accidentally making my younger cousin cry?

Basically, my (F17) younger cousin (F9) and her mom moved close by to where my family lives, and now is starting to visit regularly. Only, I'm a very anxious and socially awkward person and I'm not very good around kids. I try my best to entertain her, although I've been told I need to "grow a spine and learn to say no" by my mom after I let my younger cousin mess up my wigs. I'm a big push over, but I do like my personal space. Only, my cousin is very extroverted and curious, and I sort of understand, so that's why I try to help her hone that energy in things like arts and crafts and such.

The thing is, I get socially drained very easily. Especially since I'm a senior in highschool now trying to get ready for college. I don't have as much energy anymore and can't keep up with her as much, and I've noticed she gets upset when I'm not around because she thinks I'm purposely ignoring her. She's not alone though, she has my sister (F14) to keep her company, and they're both much closer than I am with her.

I recently had a panic attack because my younger cousin took a lot of valuable things from my room (such as figures I bought and manga I was gifted), and earlier in the day she hid in my room and locked me out. I know she means no harm, she's 9 after all. And although I was uncomfortable, I'd let her onto my bed, or let her cling to my arm (I'm very touch adverse due to past events I don't wish to talk about). But this time, seeing my things gone and being locked out of my only safe space caused me to panic.

I tried explaining to her I wasn't upset, but she still started crying since I was pounding on my bedroom door and then later started crying since I tried picking up my things from where she had taken them instead of letting her play with them. I was just very tired, and tried explaining to her. I feel like I'm in the wrong because I don't know if I explained it right, and also because I believe my pushover nature isn't helping. I suppose that's just the way she was raised, but everytime I try to spend time by myself she begins to cry. I never yelled at her, seeing as I'm more on the quiet side and especially since I've seen how she reacts out of the blue. It's just exhausting having to stay up all night and play all day.

For extra information, her mom is very sweet but had my cousin at a young age. She wasn't really around a lot of kids her age growing up, but now that they moved she has a lot more opportunities. I don't know of any mental disorders, but my family is very close to my cousin and her family so I feel we'd get notified if something was shown.

I don't know if I'm overthinking this, my own relations with my mom is more on the tense side since she's always taken my things when I was younger and made me paranoid about whether or not I'll wake up to it all gone. I try not to be like her, but I feel my cousin is probably seeing me as more standoffish. Sorry if this isn't the best explanation, I'm new to this system but just wanted an outside opinion.

I hope your day goes well. 🌸

What are these acronyms?

[iihandsiiheavn]

ʚïɞ "why would you do that?"

pairing: chris sturniolo x olivia rubens (oc)

warnings: drug addiction, mentions of underage drug use, drinking, cursing, fighting and a whole lot of angst. protagonist with a name (aka as original character), sort of a happy ending and written by someone who doesn't have english as their first language, take it easy.

in witch chris' dealer knows him for too long and can tell exactly what's going on.

chris sturniolo x dealer!oc

"you either take that little boy out the damn backyard or i'll take care of him by myself. you choose"

i sigh out loud, ranging my chair back and rubbing my face in a nervous reaction. christopher, christopher is at the damn backyard. he's there for a motherfucking hour.

"did you hear me, miss?" my older brother speaks a little louder, throwing a pen into my table to make sure i'm here. "give him whatever the fuck he wants and tell him to fuck off. you're no mom, no therapist, no whatever."

my fingers reach for the pen before i throw it back. i'm no mom and no therapist, i'm just childhood friends with the said little boy. and i actually don't have what he wants, the type of shit chris started to come here for are the kind i don't order anymore, i don't let ryan come around with, i don't let the subject reach the table.

i fucked up already. this right here was my mistake and my mistake only, was my dad heritage and my fate. the apple can't fall so far from the tree and i can accept that. me and ryan, my brother, took over the spot for a few years now and chris was already into some stuff when i got here.

then we messed around and found out. simple blunts became white lines, then candies, then pills. then whatever we had in storage.

until chris was forced into rehab last year. i wanted to disappear, felt like the worst person ever. well, i can't scape my own life and the shit i lived down for, so i disappeared from chris' life.

fuck it. i'd be for the best and i thought it would work. he knew no one else with the shit, i dragged him into this mess and could put him out too.

the joke's on me, he's showing up every now and then, back from rehab and trying to get back to his old habits too. i'd be a bitch if i let him do that.

"olivia?" ryan insists. i am truly trying to avoid chris now. soon or later he'll leave, that's what i'm telling myself for days now. "fine- i'll do it my way"

"no, ryan. leave it. i'll work it out"

ryan hits and fights. usually i let him solve this kind of problem, it's easier and quicker. but not this time, not with chris.

so i stand up, put everything on my table together and take my last deep breath. i need it to be fast. i put my hoodie on and then walk towards the fucking back door. jesus christ.

winter is approaching and it is cold as fuck outside. it ain't a surprise when the blue eyes meet me and they're all red, along with the whole pale face standing right in front me.

"liv! why would you do that? i am standing here, waiting for a fucking show up and you didn't even bother!"

my heart races. he's not sober.

the voice takes time to leave his lips, his steps aren't so sure about what to do and i hate what i see in his gaze. god, i hate everything about this.

"what do you want, chris? you need to leave, you need to go home." i close the door behind me, resting my body against it and trying to contain the hurt look on my face.

this is the boy i grew up with, we shared beds, sippy cups, ate from the same plate, sat by each other's side in kindergarten. now i gotta ignore him and keep him away from the bullshit i put him on. life's fucking lame.

"what i want, olivia? i want you to stop being such a hypocrite and go back to who you are." he approaches, the eyes going dark, the hair in a fuzzy mess. "give me what i need and i'll leave. you can go back to forgetting i exist as soon as you drop my shit off."

i shake my head in denial. i knew he's hurt by our sudden distance, i am hurt too. but it's for the best, completely for the best.

"i couldn't ever forget you exist, chris." i sigh. "just... i just won't do what you want, 'm sorry. i have nothing on me right now"

he loses the focus for a bit. the fingers interlocks in between his hair and he shakes a little bit. fuck.

"liv, i know- i know you think you're doing what's right and saving me from the fucking mess you put me in in first place, but that's not what it is! i need to feel something and i need it soon! what can't you- fuck! why can't you just be the irresponsible little bitch you have always been and give me the fucking pills!?"

no words, not even a breath. it hits me like a knife, it cuts like his words were sharpened. there isn't much to say, because i know he's fucking right.

"olivia, you always knew what i needed, you gotta help me right now." his arms go up a little bit, like he's showing me how fucked he is. as if i couldn't see it before. "i need it all to go away, i just need to chill. you know what always works, you do!"

"yeah, going home, and-and talking to the boys, having a full meal, call mom, dad. that is what you need. did you try that?"

he's back to approaching. i'd be panicked if it was a client, i'd be calling ryan. but that's just chris.

"who's mom? who's dad? who in the fuck would really want a child like this?" he points at himself, getting closer and closer. i can see it even with my blurry vision. "i don't want to see no one, i want what you have and then i'll be gone. promise"

my eyes close shut for a slight second, until a freezing cold hand meet the side of my face and a forehead meets mine. fuck. truly, fuck.

"olivia, please. i am begging you for real. give me anything. any fucking thing. i've got the money, how much do you need?"

my hand touches his, then my eyes meets his. destroyed, completely destroyed.

"i am so, so sorry, chris. i have nothing for you." it sounds like a whisper. i take his hand off my face, squeezing it just enough for it to warm up a little bit. "how long are you here? back home?"

"a month or so." answers, symply. "i need them, liv. i am begging you, i'd get on my knees for them, i-"

"you really need to go, chris. i'm gonna call matt to come and pick you up, fine? just-"

i had my phone in my hand in a second and in the other i didn't anymore. he wonders for a minute about what he's going to do with it, than he touches his own face, scratches it, stumble around and i watch. i hated being me everyday after he got sent off. it felt like being on the devil's skin just by seeing him that way.

chris is not the type of guy that should be here begging to drug himself. chris deserves a whole beautiful bright future, he's so much more than this.

and that's why i can't fight when he grabs my phone, or go feral or too serious when he's here like this. i can't treat him any worse.

"whatever you want to give me, olivia. just for one use. no need for more."

i inhale deeply, feeling the cold air fill my lungs. fine. is that what he wants?

"c'mon, let's go" i grab his arm, making our way out the backyard and into the front door.

when dad started selling stuff when we were kids, he sort of divided the house. you can access the back of it through the front door, but you gotta go through another door that's usually locked. chris and i are not going where he wants to.

"why is... why are we inside? i don't- olivia, what the fuck are you doing?"

he doesn't stop me from guiding him through the corridor and then to my room. he looks around, go quiet for a few whole minutes and then let out a little sigh, hugging his own body as i walk around and take the blankets off the bed.

"you know what you need, chris? some rest." i say, as i approach and hold his arms, letting my hands go up and down on the tattooed skin. he only has a black t-shirt on. "lemme take care of you and then we find out what we'll do, ok? hum? put some warm clothes on and sleep a little bit, what do you think?"

his eyes water and his dry lips part, he says nothing else. i don't know what he's been taking or whatever, but he is not at the best of his consciousness.

"sometimes i... sometimes i tried to fuck up just to see you come and fix it, but- but you never did it anymore." he admits, as another wave of blame hits me hard.

yeah, i'm great at fucking up people's life and everything, but i take care of my people. i'd go to war for them and sometimes war is just denying injectable shit for my childhood friend.

"i'm fixing today." i didn't mean it to sound like a whisper, but it did.

i reach for the hoodie on my mess-chair, one that was chris' before being mine.

"why did you go away? i was waiting for you to visit, or call... or... or i don't know" he is losing his way, his pupils are so wide i almost can't see the blue.

the lips shaking, the hands the same and the skin even more and more pale. there's another situation when i call ryan, when i need somebody who went to med school at some point. my brother did.

so i leave him a text and keep my cool, i take a deep breath and guide chris onto the bed, so i can help him out with hoodie since he's taller.

"i was taking care of you, trust me."

he was waiting for me but not only me. he was waiting for me with a backpack and transparent bags, and them disposable syringes.

"i needed you to this before"

when we were younger, he had this episode when we started tasting some worst things and he had a bad trip. i did exactly what i'm doing right now, let him rest his head on my stomach, let my fingers run in between his hair and press his scalp just a little bit. him sitting on this exact same bed, me standing in between his legs. just like right now.

"i do trust you my life, actually" contrasts. he shouldn't.

"what did you take, chris? i need to know"

"it is going away, do you have it? heroine? not the pure one, that mix that gets hard to put into the syringe? that-fuck. that one."

i close my eyes for an instant. my fingers massage just in the back of his ears, i can feel him weighting a bit more into my body. he's still thinking i'll get him anything or whatever.

leaving rehab and going straight to injectables is fucked up.

"my bad, liv. i had a guy over" i didn't notice ryan getting in the room with some equipment in his hands and a worried look in his face.

he hated when we chris came around and hated being around him, this is always i bright example of what our childhood became. but he cares and would never deny help.

"it's fine- can we just... just try? he had them heroine injections, the mixed one."

ryan signs heavily, mad. i don't take that heavy shit but if i did, he'd react just like this.

"is he off conscience? i need your help."

"he's going on and off, i guess. hey, chris? let's rest a little bit, fine?"

he says something too low for me to understand, but does not let go of my waist and ryan is not good on patience. that's what he means with the help thing.

so i do my best to manage to be sat on the bed, chris' body falls into mine and I hate to say it. there's a wave of panic approaching.

"you chose to put him inside, liv. deal with it, ok? he'll be fine." my brother warns. he's not good on advices and shit, he's just real.

and that's just what i need sometimes.

"can you promise?" i whimper, not even noticing i had started crying while helping him flip chris a little better. i'm still sort of under him, and if i'm being honest, i don't want to leave.

he rests on his side and on my torso, my bed is a mess now and I hold his head so he won't fall, he'd be here just like a baby if it wasn't the damn heroine and whatever the fuck else he has in his veins now.

"stop crying, olivia. i'm not functioning if you panic. you know that" ryan snaps his tongue, holding chris' arm straight for a second before signing me to do it.

i silence myself, then. still trying my best. letting my fingers caress the cold skin in chris' face, fixing the hair sometimes and watching his tense expression up close. i am trying not to lose it, i really am.

god, how did we get down here. we were two little kids playing in kindergarten, and out of nothing, that's life, that's our life. chris is off conscience in my bed after staying in my porch for hours begging for heroine. life couldn't be more unfair.

"just be careful so he won't take this off or move too much, right?" ryan demands, grabbing the stuff he just used as i didn't even notice.

we used to do that a lot. dad was an old ass drug dealer with a blank addiction to whatever felt like dying so it'd be days of me holding his unconscious body while ryan prepared the needles and everything.

"i'll call justin or whatever, he ain't spending the night"

i won't contest, i actually agree and let him leave, staring at the wall while my fingers trace lines through chris' cheeks. i hate this, i hate feeling like there's no going back.

like the hours go by and they don't change a thing, nothing gets better. when chris moves a bit, i hold him a little tighter.

"hey." i whisper, my lips pressing against his face very softly as he seems to come back to reality.

missing us is just a regular feeling at this point. i'm close enough for these minutes before any of his brothers show up.

"sorry, okay?"

the rasp on his voice and the lack of rush, the way he just turn his body to the side and take a deep breath. no curiosity for the medicine, no glance up.

"i am too" i let my fingers play around his hair, brushing it all away from his face, then back to the sides and behind his ears. "i am so sorry, chris."

"don't be." his voice is as low as before. "i'll be ok. i'm here, hmm? guess that's the drug i need"

"great, that's a drug you can actually have" i thug him a little tighter, just until i can hear a little giggle. "i ain't leaving, ok? not again"

"me neither." murmurs. "i like it better here"