#that was another time id considered just saying fuck it and going home

[two-calicos-in-a-trenchcoat]

I was thinking about stuff from elementary school again

So like

At my school we weren't allowed to bring stuffed animals to school unless we saved up enough gold slips to have that as a reward for a day

I regularly disregarded this rule and kept a stuffed animal in my backpack without my teachers knowledge

But there were a couple instances where I got ratted out or one occasion in second grade where I'd let my stuffed dog have its head poking out of my backpack and because its head weighed more than its body it fell out and another kid grabbed it and I was sobbing and had to tell my teacher about it

And I got scolded for it every time

HOWEVER

Not only do I think that rule is just fucking stupid

But as I was thinking about it

Having a stuffed animal in my backpack was like 90% of the reason I didn't just try to fuckin bounce at recess some days

Like I may not have technically lived within walking distance but I still KNEW how to get home from my school. Go down Princeton til you get to the big 4 way intersection. Turn left. Go straight til you get to the gas station. Turn right. Walk past the gas station. Turn right again then BOOM theres my apartment.

So there were days when I strongly considered just making a run for it at recess. Realistically I probably wouldn't have made it very far before they caught me. But my fear of getting in trouble might not have been enough to stop me from trying if I hadn't had a stuffed animal in my backpack that I would be leaving behind if I left then. And that was a distressing enough thought that I never actually tried it.

[arieslost]

sky full of stars | ln4

summary: dj!lando always plays your song when you’re at the club.

word count: 3,615

warnings: drinking

masterlist — join my tag list here!

© arieslost 2024. DO NOT REPOST WITHOUT PERMISSION.

2021

You did not want to be in this club. You would need another pair of hands and feet to count off all the places you’d rather be, the very first one being asleep in your bed.

But here you were, not only in the club, but within a throng of people at varying levels of fucked up, jumping around and dancing to the song pounding through the speakers. Your comforts were twofold: the first was knowing that you could handle the two shots in your system, and the second was that your best friend was the designated driver tonight, so there was no way in hell she was going to leave without you.

Frankly, you’d been ready to leave an hour ago. In fact, you’d started saying the words, “I want to go home” when you caught a glimpse of the DJ in charge of tonight’s music. Granted, it was hard to really look at him considering the fact that the lights were low and you were on the other end of the club, but you’d seen just enough to know that he was attractive and any thought of leaving had gone right out the window. Not to mention the fact that he hadn’t said anything when he started his set, so you didn’t even know what his voice sounded like.

You needed a closer look.

So here you were, surprisingly enjoying yourself on the dance floor while you tried to check him out without being overly conspicuous. You were only able to make out a head of curly hair and the large hand that lifted a shot glass to his lips when your phone started ringing, the buzz in your pocket the only indication thanks to the blaring music. You squinted at the screen, thinking it might be your friend trying to find you, but the caller ID read “Potential Spam,” so your phone went right back into your pocket. You were on a mission.

When you looked up, you made direct eye contact with the man of the hour– the DJ you found nothing short of infatuating. You were rather close to his setup, maybe ten people away, but you could feel his gaze on you as he picked up a microphone.

“This next song is dedicated to the gorgeous woman I’m looking at right now,” he announced to the whole room, sending a wink in your direction before getting to work on fading the current song into the new one– “A Sky Full of Stars” by Coldplay.

You felt goosebumps rising on your arms as the first few notes filled the room, suddenly glad that you were here and not at home, asleep. The lights moved in tandem to the beat of the song, and you finally got a proper look at his face. It’s then that you knew you were screwed, because if he wasn’t the most attractive man you’d ever seen in your life, you’d be lying.

You barely had any time to pull yourself together before he was motioning for one of his friends to take over for him and stepping down from the booth into the crowd, making a beeline right for where you stood in the middle of it all.

“You’re awfully bold,” you said when he was close enough to hear you, a bit taken aback by how quickly he’d closed the distance between the two of you. “What makes you think I like this song?”

He didn’t answer at first, instead choosing to slowly run his hand down your arm until his fingers tangled with yours. “You have goosebumps, and I’d be shocked if you didn’t like it. When I played it last time, you came up to me and tried to take the mic so you could sing it to everyone.”

That’s another reason why you never made a habit out of going to the club. Somehow, it always got to the point where you lost your mind a little bit and somehow managed to find new ways to make an idiot out of yourself. But tonight was different– you were managing your alcohol intake, and the hot DJ was calling you out on something you’d been too drunk to remember the next morning.

Your friends hadn’t though; in fact, they’d been gracious enough to provide video proof of them dragging you away from the DJ booth. You’d never felt such shame as you did watching that back.

“Don’t be embarrassed,” he said, his free hand tilting your chin up so he could look right at you as he spoke. “It’s how I noticed you in the first place. I haven’t been able to take my eyes off of you since.”

At least one good thing came out of my foolishness, you thought to yourself as he took your other hand and put both of your arms around his neck. It made sense, anyway– you definitely would’ve remembered seeing him before had you been sober.

“I’m not a very good dancer,” you warned him as he began to sway to the music, taking you along with him as his hands went down to your hips.

“Neither am I,” he confided, lips close to your ear.

The chorus began, the song’s beat drop making the lights change from red to blue, and you decided that you would let this happen, even if it turned into another embarrassing memory. At least you would remember this time, and you’d never forget swaying back and forth with the handsome DJ as the rest of the crowd danced around you both.

2022

You were in the club again, and you couldn’t imagine being anywhere else. Spending so much time with your favorite DJ, Lando Norris, will do that to you. After that first dance, he bought you a couple drinks and didn’t go back to the DJ booth for the rest of the night due to you dragging him right back out into the crowd and dancing with him until your feet hurt too much to stand. Eventually, your best friend had found you and told you it was time to go, and in your tipsy state you’d kept your arms firmly around Lando, said something about “holding him hostage,” and vehemently refused to go anywhere. It wasn’t until he gave you his number that you allowed your best friend to take you home.

He texted you right away when he woke up that morning, and the day after the two of you went on your first date. He surprised you by taking you to a rather high-end restaurant; you’d pegged him for a more low-key guy when it came to dates, despite the fact that he’d dedicated a song to you in front of a club full of people, and you were proved correct when you were on the phone with him later that night.

“I don’t even like going out that much,” he confessed, rubbing a hand over his tired eyes. “I just thought you deserved something special for a first date so I didn’t look like a loser.”

“You could have just told me that,” you giggled. “The dress code for our next date can be sweats.”

You still remembered the way his eyes lit up when you said “our next date.” That next date, a movie marathon at your apartment, had turned into countless dates, and you never went back to that restaurant.

Now, you were in the club where the two of you first met to celebrate your one year anniversary. Lando was wearing a white button up, and had just unbuttoned the top two buttons to reveal more of his tan skin and the gold chain around his neck. You’d given him a look, and he’d complained that “it’s just so hot in here,” but the both of you knew he was just doing it to rile you up.

It was working.

Your hands gravitated to the newly exposed skin, palms running up along his shoulders and fingers dipping beneath his collar to gently scratch at his back. You could spend all night running your hands over his skin, and he’d be happy to let you do it. He leaned closer to you, nearly stepping on your toes as his arms looped around your waist.

“You really weren’t lying last year when you said you were a bad dancer.” You laughed at the affronted look on his face.

“I think I’ve gotten better, thank you very much.” He said, and promptly stepped directly on your foot. “Shit, baby, I’m sorry!”

You only laughed harder, pulling him into a kiss. You could feel the vibrations of his own laughter against your lips.

“Wait right here,” he instructed, breaking the kiss. “I’ve got something for you.”

He kissed your cheek and disappeared into the crowd.

The song playing began fading out, which caught your attention because it was in the middle of the chorus. You didn’t need Lando’s DJ knowledge to know that it was a strange decision to fade a song out long before it was over.

“Attention, everyone. We had a special request tonight from a familiar face,” the DJ announced before passing the microphone to none other than your boyfriend.

“This next song goes out to my beautiful girlfriend,” Lando said, pointing directly at you and causing your face to get hot when half the room looked in the direction of his finger. “Happy one year, baby. I love you.”

Your jaw dropped as the familiar opening notes of “A Sky Full of Stars” started playing. Not just because of the song, but because of those three special words. I love you. You’d only said it to each other a handful of times, and Lando had just said it to you in front of hundreds of people.

You met him in the middle of the floor, too impatient to wait until he got back to you.

“I love you, I love you so much!” You yelled over the music, kissing him again.

“One year is just the beginning, yeah?” He asked, and you nodded enthusiastically, cheeks hurting from smiling so wide.

2023

You were wrapped up in Lando’s arms as you stood before his setup. In the past year, he had been promoted to be the main talent for the club and had three sets every weekend. He had insisted that the only gift he wanted from you for your two year anniversary was that you help him DJ his next set, and you’d obviously agreed. You got him a necklace anyway, but kept your promise so long as he promised to help you gain at least some skills beforehand so the audience wouldn’t kick you out for being shit. After a week or so, you felt confident enough with the buffer of the knowledge you’d picked up over the past two years to be where you were now– fading one song into another almost seamlessly.

Lando would take his hands off of you for only seconds at a time to adjust something here or there and make the music flow as smoothly as possible. Otherwise, he was all over you for the whole club to see, and you were kind of obsessed with it. He was hardly paying attention to anything else; only moving on autopilot to fiddle with the knobs or whatever it was he was doing to make you look like an adequate DJ.

“Did I do okay?” You asked towards the end of the set, looking over your shoulder at your boyfriend who hadn’t stopped smiling at you since you left the apartment and arrived at the club early to set up.

“Are you kidding? I think I might be out of a job after tonight,” he said, threading his fingers into your hair to pull you into a long kiss. “At least I would be, if I didn’t have this party trick under my sleeve.”

Slightly dazed from the passion of his kiss, you let him lean around you and queue up a song that wasn’t originally in the mix for that evening’s set.

At this point, you should have expected it, and maybe you did a little bit, but that didn’t stop the tears from pricking your eyes and the goosebumps rising on your arms when “A Sky Full of Stars” began, sending the crowd into a chorus of cheers.

“It works every time,” he said cheekily, reaching up to wipe away the tears that had escaped.

“You are unbelievable.” It was meant to be said in jest, but you were just so filled with love and adoration for him that it sounded like a compliment.

“Dance to our song with me,” he said, spinning you and tugging you forward so you bumped right into his chest.

“Here?” You looked behind you, at the set up, at the hundreds of people, and he took your chin in his hand and turned your face back to him.

“Here. Now. I want them all to see how much I love you.” He said it so sweetly that, in that moment, you were willing to give him just about whatever he wanted.

He started singing the song to you, “‘Cause in a sky, ‘cause in a sky full of stars, I think I saw you,” and it felt like you were the only two people in the room when the beat dropped and you kissed him with everything you had, letting him sway you back and forth and spin you around one too many times just to see his smile and hear his giddy laugh.

2024

You’re surprised when Lando tells you that he’s made different plans for your three year anniversary. The club has become a second home of some sorts; you’re there more often than not to watch his sets, and you’ve always gone there for your anniversaries. Not just the years, but the six month, year and a half, and two and a half year anniversaries as well. Thus, the sudden deviation from tradition raises a few alarm bells in your head. If anything, you’d expect a change for your four years next year since 4 is your boyfriend’s lucky number.

You don’t have time to dwell on it that much. You have to be out the door in ten minutes, and you still have to finish applying your lipstick, not to mention strap yourself into the sparkling silver heels Lando had gotten you for Christmas.

“Almost ready, baby?” He asks, peeking into the bathroom and watching as you add one last swipe of lipstick.

“Yup! Just need my—” you’re cut off when he holds up the heels. “—shoes. Thanks, Lan.”

“Here, sit. I’ll put them on for you.” He gestures to the edge of the tub.

You take him up on his offer happily, and your heart jumps up into your throat when he stares right into your eyes and slowly gets down on one knee before you.

You’d overheard him talking about possibly proposing to you with your parents over the holiday break, and you hadn’t been stealthy about it at all, so he knows that you heard. Since then, he’s made a game out of getting on one knee in front of you every now and then. He already did it once this morning when he woke you up only to tell you that he made you breakfast. You know he’s joking, but now that you’re celebrating a significant milestone in your relationship you can’t help but have a slight inkling that his joking around is less of a joke and more of a hint.

So when he holds your gaze long enough to make you start thinking that it might actually happen before going about putting your shoes on, you’re not at all fazed and ruffle his hair.

“Hey! Easy, I spent a lot of time making my hair look good for you.” He yelps, jumping up to look in the mirror and patting it down meticulously.

“I like it when it’s messy,” you reply, giving him a look that you know drives him crazy.

“You can’t say that and look at me that way when we’re trying to leave the house, babe.” He whines.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.” You make sure the straps on your heels are tight enough before you stand up, pleased that your retaliation to his down-on-one-knee joke worked better than you thought it would. “Come on, I don’t want to be late!”

He wastes no time in getting his payback for your antics when you arrive at the restaurant he took you to for your very first date. He opens the car door for you, and takes your hand to help you step out. The moment you’re on the sidewalk and the door is closed behind you, he gets down on one knee again, making a point to look at you the entire time. Your heart jumps again. Certainly he wouldn’t do it on the sidewalk? Or maybe he would, to add to the element of surprise?

He doesn’t. He simply ties his shoelace, the picture of innocence all the while.

“Shall we?” He says as he straightens up, offering his arm with a smile.

You retain your own picture of innocence, wrapping your hand around his bicep. “We shall.”

Seeing that he had booked the private dining room has more alarm bells going off in your head, not to mention the fact that you thought you’d never see the inside of this restaurant again. Regardless, you were actually kind of happy to be somewhere quieter to celebrate your anniversary, as much as you’ve fallen in love with being at the club.

Lando clears his throat loudly towards the end of your meal as the waiter pours two glasses of champagne. “Three years,” he begins, sounding somewhat awestruck.

You nod in agreement. “Three years. Sick of me yet?”

“I don’t think that’s possible.” He passes you a glass, and you clink them together before you each take a sip. “Actually, I’d really love to just spend my entire life with you.”

Now he’s not even trying to hide it, so you laugh a little bit. “That’s sweet, Lan.”

“I’m serious,” he pouts, and you try to contain yourself, painting a serious expression on your face and nodding as you press your lips together. “Fine, I admit it. I went a little too far with the joke.”

“Which time? Are we talking about just today or the past few weeks?” You ask pointedly, taking another sip of your champagne.

“Okay, a lot too far.” He huffs, getting out of his chair and pushing it in before walking to your side of the table. “I want to make up for it right now though, if that’s alright with you.”

“Oh my God. You’re actually serious?” You ask, feeling your insides beginning to shake a little with giddiness as he gets down on one knee before you for the fourth time today.

“I have never been more serious about anything in my life.” He reaches into his suit jacket and pulls out a small box.

It looks a bit different than ring boxes normally look, and the moment he opens it you understand why. The notes of “A Sky Full of Stars” emit from within the box where the ring sits, the dazzling diamond sparkling when it catches the light.

“Fuck’s sake, Lando, I wouldn’t have spent so much time on my makeup if I knew you were gonna do this,” you sniffle, putting a hand over your mouth.

“I’ll keep it short because I don’t want to cry too much and ruin it,” he promises, taking your free hand in his own, the other holding the box out to you. “I’ve never been happier to be borderline assaulted by a drunk girl in the middle of a set, because if that never happened I don’t know if we would’ve met.”

You start laughing hysterically, tears most definitely ruining your makeup, and he laughs through his own tears.

“I just love you so much, every little thing about you. It would take me eternity to tell you how much I love you, and that wouldn’t even be enough time with you. So, that’s why I want to ask you to be with me beyond eternity and do me the honor of being my wife.” He says your name like he’s saying it for the first time, taking his time to savor the way it rolls off his tongue. “Will you marry me?”

“Yes,” you nod. “Yes, yes, yes.”

Hand shaking, he slips the ring onto your finger. The moment it’s in place, he puts his other knee down and pulls you into the tightest hug as the song continues playing from the box.

“I love you,” you whisper in his ear, feeling his shoulders shake slightly as he cries. “But did you have to give me a heart attack so many times today?”

He laughs, pulling away and grabbing a napkin to gently wipe your eyes. “Four’s my lucky number, I had to do it three other times today to make sure I got it right.”

The song comes to an end, and you pick up the box, observing the intricate design and the engraving on the outside– You get lighter the more it gets dark. I’m going to give you my heart. Forever.

“You know this has to be the song we dance to for the first time as Mr. and Mrs. Norris, right?” You say to him, leaning in and kissing the tears off of his cheeks.

“Way ahead of you, baby. I already started making our playlist; it’s the first song on there.”

note: the fact that i’m posting this after lando confirmed he “retired” from dj-ing… call this my long-winded eulogy. special thanks to coldplay for making a song that inspired a whole story!

requests are OPEN, and my inbox is always open for comments, criticism, and conversation! feel free to pop in!

reblogs are always appreciated <33

beautiful dividers by @/saradika !

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[notmyneighbor]

Special Delivery - Doppelganger Francis Mosses x Female Reader

Word Count - 3.3k

Rating - Explicit

CW - masturbation, oral sex

Also available on AO3

You’re being followed.

You’re out later than you’d intended, but there had been a lot of requests that day. Word was spreading. You were getting quite the reputation among the doppelgängers.

Imagine, a human who was betraying her own kind, making forged documents to help the invaders into DDD restricted areas.

You don’t even feel guilty about it, either, because what has any human ever done for you? You’ve been on your own since as far back as you can remember, dealt a bad hand early in life. This scheme you’ve concocted pays well. Better than any of the other less savory things you’ve had to do to supplement your income, and it came with an added bonus: you knew how to write in the alien’s language as well, the symbols you inscribe on the frame of your apartment door and workspaces guaranteeing you’ll be exempt from harm.

Maybe you could’ve done something with your artistic and linguist skills if you’d had the opportunity, but alas, this was your lot in life. Making the best of a less than ideal situation.

You deviate your course a few times, just to make certain you’re still being pursued. Yes, he’s still trailing you. You’re certain it’s male but you’re not pausing long enough to discern more than that. Well, fuck.

You take another detour. Perhaps not the best decision in hindsight. You’re further away from home now. You don’t recognize the street you’re on. There’s a delivery truck parked on the side of the road. Dairy. Should you try to hide inside? The door was open. Where was the driver? You consider your options. No one would admit you into their house at this hour, and why should they, when you’ve been selling out all your neighbors? The truck, then. Your stalker’s footsteps still sounded a fair distance away. It was your only chance at this point. Maybe you could find something to mark the symbols. If there was still time.

The step to enter the truck is high. You have to ungraciously hoist yourself inside, clinging desperately to the sides to balance your weight. Made it. Your nose wrinkles. There’s a faintly sour smell. Spoiled products. The keys are in the ignition. A feeling of foreboding washes over you. The street lamp nearby barely illuminates the interior of the vehicle. You’re afraid to go into the back. You can’t see anything you can use to write the protection phrase. Your breath saws in and out. Too loud. You’re making too much noise.

A foot on the steel step makes you whirl around. It’s your pursuer. Dressed as a milkman, but you know instantly it’s not. Replicant. Deceiver. The clone of whatever human he’s copying. He’d chosen a handsome one, though you doubt it had anything to do with appearances, more a matter of convenience. Broad shouldered. Narrow waisted. He lifts himself into the truck with practiced ease. You’re so fucked.

Dark eyes and hair. Pale skin. He blocks the light from outside as he crowds you further inside. Well, you couldn’t say you’d had a good run, but you’d done your best. You close your eyes. You don’t want to see the teeth emerge before he devours you.

“What are you doing in here?”

Your eyes fly open again. He hasn’t advanced any further. He wanted to talk? Play with his food before he ate it? Maybe he wasn’t hungry. Mabe you could talk your way out of this.

“I…I got lost on the way home.”

“You’re lying.” No malice behind those words, just an observation.

“I heard you following me. I know what you are,” you admit, then instantly regret it. Stupid girl.

“I know who you are, too. You’re the one who makes the ID’s and entry requests.”

“Business hours are Monday through Friday, 8am to 5pm.” Were you seriously being flippant with a doppelgänger? You give a little chuckle to show you’re joking around, but the noise sounds more like a dying hyena, slightly panicked and hysterical.

“Those hours don’t work for me.”

“Oh.” So he was a prospective customer then? “Cash up front, half in advance, the rest on delivery. Currently working this week behind the abandoned grocery store off of Burke Street. I have to rotate the site to, you know…”

“I’ll pay extra,” he adds. “For the inconvenience of the hour and short notice.”

You lick your lips at the prospect of making additional funds. What would be fair to charge? “You need it right now? What’s the hurry?”

“Are you able to do it or not?” This now laced with irritation. His patience and good graces were wearing thin already. Best not to ire him further. You’re lucky to still be alive.

“Yeah, I can do it.”

“I’ll drive us there, then.”

“Where am I supposed to sit?” You glance around the front of the cabin. There’s only one seat for the driver.

You see his shoulders raise and lower in a shrug before he sits behind the wheel. You suppose your only choice is to sit on the floor.

“Your truck reeks,” you say, that sour smell assaulting your nostrils again as you lower yourself down.

The engine rumbles to life. “Deliveries didn’t get made today.”

“Did you…” You’re wondering what happened to the original, human operator of the vehicle. Had he suffered some grim fate? Were his remains sitting in the doppelgänger’s gut, being digested at this very moment? You shudder at the unpleasant thought.

He glances down at you. “No. I simply duplicated his form and stole the truck. You humans leave your body substances everywhere,” he says, lifting the cap off his head and tossing it onto the dashboard. “This one perspired all over that.”

That was all it took for a doppel to replicate a human. Just a little bit of something from the original. Sweat. Blood. Mucus. Probably other, even more unsavory substances, too.

It’s uncomfortable on the floor. The truck’s suspension jostles you roughly. Luckily you don’t have far to go. The driver eases behind the abandoned brick building, shutting off the headlamps. There are no functioning street lights in this part of town. You’re shrouded in darkness.

The doppel stands and you struggle to your feet, reluctantly accepting the hand he offers you to assist you to your feet. You’ve never touched one of the invaders directly before. It feels normal. Just like a human. You’re not sure if that makes it better or worse.

You’ve been working out of the manager’s office in the rear of the store. You’ve got an actual set of keys, pilfered once you’d broken into the building. Another of your talents, that. Breaking and entering. An additional skill this unfair life has made you adept at.

You’re not used to being here so late. It’s amazing no one’s realized the building is still on the electrical grid. You’re grateful for the mistake, switching on the light in the back hallway after feeling blindly for the switch. The doppel is just behind you. You unlock the office door and hit another light switch, sighing in relief. That was better. Familiar territory. No longer in darkness.

But there’s an anxious invader at your back, and that knowledge is less than comforting. You sit down in the office chair behind the steel desk and he settles into the hardbacked one across from you.

“So, um…about the fee.”

Without a word the alien digs into his pants pocket, extracting several bills from a wallet and sliding them over to you. “Will that be sufficient?”

You’re trying to keep a straight face. Where did he get this much money? “Yes, that’s fine. Do you…do you have a home address for the individual?”

Delving back into the wallet, he now produces a car registration. Francis Mosses. You recognize the area he resides in. A better part of town than the one you’re living in, but maybe someday you could change that.

Although, you’re about to make that area a lot less safe, you think, pulling the necessary tools out of the large bottom desk drawer, including a DDD logo stamp. That had been the hardest item to acquire. The rest were fairly routine.

“I need to take a picture. Do you just want to get that over with now?” He nods. “Can you stand in front of the door? It’s a good blank background.” Another nod as you stand. He closes the office door and positions himself, waiting for you to snap the Polaroid. Damn, he really is attractive. Exactly your type. You don’t even mind the little bend at the bridge of his nose or the shadows under his eyes. You take several pictures, one for the ID card and one for the entry request, with some extras just for…well, maybe just to have options if the others didn’t turn out well.

You’re not used to being watched while you work.

You typically have the doppels come back to pick the forgeries up later. These dark eyes watch your every movement like a hawk, from the way you print onto the request form to the drag of the scalpel blade around two of the photographs(they had all come out fine), carefully affixing them to both documents. You roll the stamp in the black ink pad and press it gently but firmly into each corner, waving a hand over the fresh ink to help it dry.

“You’re skilled at this,” he murmurs appreciatively, and your head lifts to meet his gaze. “I see why you come so highly recommended.”

“It’s not like there’s any competition,” you say, feeling a flush creep into your cheeks over the praise.

“True. Not many humans would betray their own kind, would they?”

Your lips press into a thin line of displeasure. You didn’t need the reminder. Was he mocking you?

“Forgive me. I didn’t mean to upset you. I’m sure you have your reasons.”

Somewhat mollified, you glance down at your work. It still looked a little moist. You need it to be completely dry before you apply the lamination to seal it in permanently.

The copycat is still staring at you. You, not the documents you’re working on. You clear your throat. “I want to make sure they’ve dried properly.”

“Of course.”

“It’ll just be a few minutes.”

“I don’t mind the wait.”

You lean back and the swivel chair creaks. Your shoulders are aching. You’d made a lot of forgeries today. Too much time spent hunched over the desk. Your eyes are a little sore, too, dry and burning. You needed a bath and maybe a snack and bed. Forget dinner. That sounded too complicated at this hour.

“You’re tired,” he observes.

“It’s been a long day.”

“I am inconveniencing you greatly, aren’t I?”

He doesn’t sound remorseful, exactly. You don’t know what he sounds like. It’s too difficult to process. You’re exhausted, that post adrenaline rush from earlier really depleting the last stores of energy. You don’t even think you’d protest if he decided to turn on you right now, taking the goods and making a meal out of you before he ran. The symbols are more of a professional courtesy than anything. It’s not like it actually prevented the doppels from physically being able to attack.

The legs of the chair he’s seated in drag across the dirty linoleum flooring, making a loud scraping sound. You watch warily as he comes around the desk, easing past a filing cabinet to reach your side.

“We haven’t really negotiated the full price yet, have we?”

Oh. Was that what was happening? He was going to stiff you. Suddenly that advance amount no longer seemed so generous. That was to be your total payment. Honestly, you should have been more demanding.

“I have more money,” he says, immediately canceling out your previous assumption, “but I don’t think that’s what you need most right now.”

“You’re right. I should be at home in the bathtub. Or better yet bed,” you add.

His hand reaches for the edge of the chair, turning you fully to face him. The abrupt movement catches you by surprise.

“Maybe what you really need is some good old fashioned milk.” His hand closes over your wrist, dragging your hand towards what you’ve somehow missed previously. He’s hard. Like full on, bulging, fit to burst out of his trousers. You should be terrified. You are scared, kind of. But turned on. Stupidly aroused because you haven’t had anyone give you this kind of attention in who knows how long. Sex had just kind of fallen by the wayside for you. There was so much else that needed to be accounted for.

You watch the hand pulling the leather strap of the imposter milkman’s belt in wonder, as if you can’t quite reconcile it’s your own doing this. Its partner joining, thumbing the button of the fly through the slot and parting the metal teeth below into a wicked grin. You shove the waistband of his briefs down and his cock springs free, flushed and thick and oozing precum. You stare at that clear bead of fluid as if hypnotized. Your mouth waters. You want it. You want to suck this creature dry.

Your tongue swipes over the crown of his erection and the doppel hums in pleasure. “Good girl,” he says encouragingly, and the praise sends heat right between your legs, your pussy tingling in response. You’re no longer thinking about your unfinished work on the desk beside you, about how dangerous it is to be alone with a doppelgänger in an abandoned building at night. You’re instead wondering how much of that dark pink length you’re going to be able to voluntarily sample before your gag reflex interrupts and he’s forced to fuck into your throat manually. Your sex throbs again. Time to stop wondering and find out.

Your lips close over the head and begin sliding over the shaft. Clean musk. A better flavor than perhaps you’d anticipated. You take a few experimental bobs, testing. He’s stretching you already. Your lips. The fat head bumping your cheeks, your soft palate. His fingers are in your hair, combing through the tresses with a strange kind of tenderness.

“So good. You’re so talented…”

You whimper a little, trying to reach more of him. There it is. That natural barrier of your body’s resistance. You struggle against it until you’re forced to withdraw, coughing and gasping, leaving a trail of thick saliva behind. You give yourself a brief respite, stroking the slick fluids over his prick. It makes a lewd squelching sound every time you massage the shaft. You can feel your arousal leaking between your legs, saturating your panties. You reach under your skirt, no longer caring about how depraved you appear. It’s a relief when your fingers make contact with your clit, dragging that wetness around the nub in frantic circles.

“That’s a good girl. Touch that pussy. It feels good, doesn’t it? So good…”

Your mouth engulfs his cock again. You roll your lips inward and massage the length in short bursts. Now relaxing and planting soft, passionate kisses on the tip. You spit on it and slurp up the liquid noisily. You like the sounds the doppel is making. You’ve never liked the men who were quiet, reserved. This invader isn’t holding back. He moans and groans and hisses. His teeth catch his bottom lip. His head tips back when the ecstasy of the blow job gets to be a bit overwhelming. And you love every minute of it. You savor every sound and gesture as you perform the obscene act while masturbating, grinding your swollen bundle of nerve endings against your pubic bone.

“You’re hungry, honey, aren’t you? Starving. I’ve got what you need, darling.” The nails of the hand you have curled around his hip dig into the cotton and polyester blended fabric of his uniform pants as you push yourself even further down his length, this time bruising your throat. You ignore the discomfort, grateful when the hand in your hair finally tightens and you feel him begin to fuck your mouth, battering the rear of that moist cavern over and over. “You want a drink, baby? You ready for it?”

You hum in agreement and he eases up, withdrawing until just the head of that thick phallus sits on the tip of your tongue. You’re panting, moaning, frantic for his release perhaps even more than your own.

“Here you go, sweetheart.” A couple of swipes along the shaft and that brief pumping is enough to send him over the edge, thick pulses of cum now spraying the inside of your mouth, pooling on the wedge of muscle his dick rests against. There’s a lot. An absurd amount. You can feel it leaking from the corners of your mouth. Bitter, but not the worst you’ve tasted. Sheer coincidence your body decides to shatter the instant you swallow that load, forcing that creamy baby batter down your gullet while your pussy spasms against your relentless finger.

“There you go, baby. Good girl.”

The milkman’s doppel bends to kiss you, surprising you with the gesture, now of all times, licking your face clean before thrusting his tongue between your lips and you crash right into another orgasm, moaning and twitching while the imposter fucks your mouth with his tongue.

Truly wrung out now, you collapse against the back of the chair, your chest heaving. The doppelgänger refastens his pants, but not before you notice it looks like he could go another round soon, and oh, doesn’t that make your cunt throb again in spite of being so recently satisfied, twice no less.

It takes great effort to smooth your skirt and your mussed hair back into some semblance of order, returning your attention to the documents that are certainly ready by now, the ink well set. The doppelgänger doesn’t return to his seat, instead remaining beside you, watching as the final protective layer is applied.

“There you go. Finished.” You glance up to see the doppel’s gaze fixed on you again, the money forgotten in his hand.

“Maybe…maybe we could work out a deal for the remainder of the payment.”

Your heart speeds up a little. “I’m listening.”

“Maybe I could make special deliveries. To your residence. For as long as it takes to cancel the debt.”

You hum, pretending to consider the offer even though you already know what your answer will be. “What happens after that?”

“We can renegotiate the terms when the time comes.”

“Interesting.”

“Interesting as in you want to think it over, or…interesting as in you definitely want more?” He bends to kiss you again. Gentler this time, but no less appealing.

“The latter.”

“Good. I was hoping you’d say that.” He sets the cash on the desk. “Consider that a tip then, for a job well done.”

You’re not going to argue with that. You hurriedly put everything away and lock the office again, soon finding yourself back outside next to the truck.

“Are you walking home, or do you want a ride?”

You weigh the discomfort of being on the floor in the smelly vehicle against walking home alone at an even riskier hour, where an encounter with another doppel would most assuredly not go as pleasantly.

“I’ll take the ride. But you need to clean the truck out.”

“I’ll do it in the morning.”

“The real milkman must have caught hell losing all these orders and the company car,” you murmur as you return to your former position inside the vehicle.

“Not my problem.”

“Every man for himself, right?” You can hardly condemn the attitude, given your current career choice.

“Exactly.” A flash of teeth in the darkness. He steals another kiss before starting the engine, bending low to capture your lips.

You’re delivered safely to your apartment building minutes later, personally escorted by the cloned milkman.

“I’ll bring you your next delivery tomorrow night, hmm?”

“Okay.” He’s standing so close. It takes just the slightest lean for him to kiss you again.

“Unless, of course, you wanted another advance…”

You shove the door you’ve already unlocked open, inviting the doppelgänger inside.

[superhaught]

Guard Dog

Pairing: Leighton Murray x Reader

Warning(s): None!

Word Count: 1000, Part 1/?

Just a little Leighton fic based on this tiktok.

You stirred your drink lazily and refreshed the app one more time just for good measure. 

No new messages. 

You turned your phone off and sighed then finished off your drink in one gulp. The bartender swung by and cleared your empty glass and offered you another and you shook your head, saying, “just water, please,” hoping to sober up before heading home and putting this failure of a Friday night behind you. 

A pretty blonde girl walked up to the empty barstool beside you and barked out her order to the bartender while preemptively handing him her ID, then she loosely directed her next words to you, “excuse me, is this seat taken?”

“Not anymore, go ahead.”

She raised an eyebrow but didn’t say anything in response as she sat in the stool and began rummaging through her tiny purse, pulling out a compact and touching up her face of makeup.

“Did you have a date or something?” The blonde asked, not turning to look at you. 

“I don’t know if it was a date,” you replied, “but someone was supposed to meet me. I’ve been waiting for over an hour.”

She closed her compact and returned it to her bag as the bartender was sliding a cocktail across the counter to her. 

“And they haven’t messaged you, I assume?”

“Nope.” You responded. 

“Asshole.”

You shrugged, “I wasn’t that excited about it anyways.” 

The blonde nodded and sipped from her drink with an elegance that was both admirable and off-putting. You envisioned her taking family vacations to Napa, feeling comfortable on yachts, purchasing a new pair of red-bottoms every season. 

The woman’s attention had been captured by her own phone, and you started to long for your bed. 

You were waiting to flag down the bartender and get your bill when a random guy approached you, carrying two beers. You rolled your eyes without him seeing.

“Hey girl, you are looking fine, let me enjoy a beer witchu.” 

You began, “oh, I was actually just-”

The blonde woman interjected, “excuse me, do you like, know this man?”

The dude groaned and slouched, “aw, come on we were just talking!”

She held up an index finger in front of him, “silence, mouth-breather, I wasn’t speaking to you yet,” then she looked at you expectantly, awaiting your answer. 

You shook your head, “no, I don’t.”

“Do you want to know him?”

“Not really.”

She nodded and turned to the offending guy, “she doesn’t want to talk to you. Goodbye.”

“What the fuck? I was just trying to be nice!”

“Well, you’re not being nice, you're being a creep and she doesn’t want to talk to you anymore.”

“Fucking bitch,” the man scoffed at blonde. 

She crossed her arms in front of her chest and sat up a little taller, “yep. Now remove yourself from the premises before I have security do it for you.”

The man raised his hands in surrender and backed away slowly, glaring at your rescuer, before finally turning and storming out of the bar with two of his buddies right behind him.

You exhaled, “Jesus… thank you for that.”

She flipped her hair over her shoulder, “oh my god, of course. Don’t even mention it.”

The bartender returned and passed your receipt to you but the woman grabbed the slip of paper between manicured fingers and spoke to the bartender, “no, please put her bill on my tab. Leighton Murray. Thank you.”

“Oh you don’t have to do that.” 

“I know but I’m going to, you’ve had a shitty night.”

“It’s really not necessary-”

“Don’t worry about it, okay? It’s nothing.” The blonde was putting her foot down and you felt completely disarmed by her. She clicked on her phone, “you were leaving, right? I’m calling you and Uber and I’ll walk you out, I’m not having you leave by yourself. He seemed like the type to wait in the parking lot.”

“You’re… that’s really above and beyond, I can’t accept-”

“I insist. Now, where are you heading?”

You considered denying her. You considered saying, thank you, but no thank you. 

“Essex College.” 

She raised an eyebrow again, “are you a student?”

You nodded, “I am, yeah. Junior.”

She smiled, “oh, wow! I’m a senior at Essex. I can’t believe I don’t know you. Come on, let’s just head back to campus together. I’m Leighton.”

You returned her smile and introduced yourself. She echoed your name back and then took hold of your hand, you thought she was just going to shake it but instead she stood up and gently led you out of the bar. 

You glanced around the parking lot and didn’t see the group of guys, “seems all clear…”

“You can never be too careful,” she answered with a shrug, “do you want me to leave you be?”

You couldn’t help but look her up and down. She was stunning. Taller than you in heels, and likely without them, too. She was still holding your hand. Her skin was soft and you could smell her perfume. She used her free hand to run her fingers through her hair, pushing it back, and you were done for. 

You looked at her lips and unknowingly bit down on your own, “No. I don’t want that…”

She smirked. A black car pulled up beside you and Leighton gestured for you to get in ahead of her. 

You squeezed her hand and then opened the car door. She lightly touched your lower back as you got into the car and it made you shudder. 

You quietly looked out the window as the car took you back to your college campus. You found yourself thinking about how it wasn’t fair for women like Leighton to exist because your hands were shaking and she hadn’t even done anything. You balled your hands into fists and sighed, not meaning to make a noise when you did.

“Is everything okay?” Leighton asked. 

You were shocked out of your thoughts, “Yes! Well, no… I mean, yes, everything is fine, it’s just…”

“Just…?”

You swallowed the lump in your throat as you met the blonde’s eyes, “I don’t want my night to end just yet.”

[reorientation]

i might suck off a straight boy from my class for zyns (nicotine pouches lol). i can't buy them yet but he can (i just turned 19 and hes 23). when i hit him up to buy off him, he sells for double the retail value, and triple for anything higher than 10mg. i asked if i get a classmate discount, or if i can buy one at a time. and he said no :(. i ""jokingly"" said id blow him for some, and he said the only people he'd accept that offer from are girls.

so, like a good crackwhore, I told him im actually ftm and it wouldn't be really gay. he didn't believe me until I showed him my pussy on a video call. he said he'd consider it, and responded like an hour later. lmao. he said it sounds kind of gay but if i came to his apartment looking pretty, and wearing something feminine he'd see if he felt gay about it. he went on to say he just thought i was gay since im too feminine to be a guy, but being trans makes more sense. he also asked why i transitioned when id make a really cute girl. im swooning.

the joke is that i can afford to buy the zyns at the price he listed. its inconvenient and annoying but doable. i could also keep trying my luck at local convenience stores and eventually be able to find something, probably. im not even trying to quit that hard. but likeee. not going to lie, he's hot and i was slightly horny already when i hit him up. id suck his dick for free tbh. its embarrassing that im willing to let him use my mouth for fucking nicotine pouches, and because im a perv who likes being misgendered. but ive already came twice, and post nut clarity is not kicking in, so its probably a good idea. will keep you posted.

God, this is fucking funny. You went to such lengths to sell your virginity to a straight man - and you didn't even save any money off of it! Plan B is like 50 bucks!

Let's see, the series of events here is:

Offered to suck a straight guy off for convenience-store drugs

Had to show him your cunt just to get him to consider it

Went over "looking pretty" like a good call-girl

Intended to just blow him and instead wound up getting fucked for the first time and creampied without protection

Went home with a few nicotine pouches, a pussy full of cum, and negative net savings

A savvy consumer you are not! God, FtM girls will take any excuse to slut themselves out.

but ive already came twice, and post nut clarity is not kicking in, so its probably a good idea.

That's the thing: actual men have refractory periods. You can only make sperm so fast, and there's not much biological point in putting another load in a girl when there's a few hundred million fresh sperm already on target. Girls who've pumped themselves full of testosterone don't get that! You can just keep rubbing yourself dumb, convincing yourself that being a stupid whore is a brilliant idea. Just another one of the dangers of trying on hormones that you weren't built for.

Still, this was very funny. Hope you enjoyed the walk of shame home from your extremely-lame-drug dealer's place, and congratulations on the start of a long career of taking cum.

[bonny-kookoo]

Jungkook

𝐂𝐡𝐚𝐧𝐠𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐓𝐢𝐦𝐞𝐬 [Part 3]

Sometimes you just miss your chance. Sometimes you have to take it.

Tags/Warnings: Non-Idol Jungkook, Dog Hybrid!Reader, former criminal!Jungkook, mentions of past neglect/abuse, reader has some pretty bad psychological problems (OCD, Anxiety, Selective mutism, hints at an eating disorder), hypersomnia, road to recovery, hurt and lots of comfort, angst, Jungkook has some problems with aggression and swears a lot, more TBA in future chapters

Length: I did not count sue me I guess

There is no taglist for this fic.

A/N: You can have early access to this and other selected fics on my Patreon!

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It's not uncommon for him not to see you much during his work. But today, especially considering how close you've gotten to him and how comfortable, it's weird to him that he doesnt see you at all.

"Jungkook.." Hana says, catching his attention as he mops the floor of the lunch area where all hybrids had just eaten a few minutes prior. "Do you have a moment?" she asks, voice soft and kind, though he's guarded, because he knows that soft-tune she puts on.

She's talking to him like she does to the other hybrids.

Something's up.

"Sure." he shrugs, putting the mop to the side before followong her to the side. "What's up? Did I do something?" he wonders, hands in his pockets while he leans against the wall behind him.

"I think you've already noticed that 268- the hybrid you've been spending time with.. She's not here." Hana says, and she doesn't need to say your name to make his eyes harden. Technically you don't have one after all, only your ID number he's able to recite back by pure instinct. He knows that she's talking about you. There's no one else she could mean.

"what about her?" he asks suspiciously, already irritated because deep down, he's got his fears. Maybe you've been adopted. Then he should be happy, right?

Except he isn't.

"She's been transferred..." Hana says, sighing before she crosses her arms in front of her, a clear sign she's going to try and justify that action while also blocking his for sure incoming anger. "...to a correctional facility in Daegu."

"What the fuck?!" he loudly barks out as soon as he hears that, visibly distressed. "Do you know what they fucking do to hybrids in these shitholes?" he demands to know, fists curled tightly as hed pushed himself off the wall vehind him, walking a step towards her. "She's gonna be even more traumatized in there, good fucking job!" he scoffs.

"please, a bit more quiet-" she tries as she notices some hybrids looking. "-she's gonna be fine. They're trained in cases like hers-"

"and if she doesnt comply she will just be sent to another, and another, and a-fucking-nother! Great solution, really!" he barks out, pulling the nametag from around his neck aggressively. "I'm done participating in this bullshit."

"Jungkook-" she tries, but he's already walking.

"I've got a week left of this work and I've not taken any days off." he says grimly, turning around with angry eyes. "I'm taking them now." He growls angrily, leaving the area to go grab his things- when a young man looks at him, then at his nametag Jungkook is taking off in frustration.

"Jeon Jungkook?" The man says, standing next to him dressed in all black, a facemask covering half of his face. He looks sketchy- and has caught Jungkook during the worst time possible.

"What!?" he snarls more or less, before a letter is pushed into his hand, catching him off guard.

"You're being summoned to court." the man says. Jungkook's blood runs cold at that.

"I've done the community service shit, what the hell?" he argues, but almost weakly so- because he knows he's powerless against the legal system. If they believe he needs further, worse punishment, then he'll have to take it.

"Oh they know, it's not about that." the guy says. "Or at least, not entirely. Read it at home. I think you'll be interested in showing up." the guy almost chuckles, cat-like eyes showing his amusement over the situation.

"..huh." Jungkook doesn't say anything else, turning around to go grab his bag.

"Ah, and Jungkook-ssi." the guy calls out, making the younger man roll his eyes as he turns around. "could you borrow me some of your clothes?"

"..the fuck?" he squints his eyes, unsure what this stranger wants with his clothes of all things. "Why would you want my stuff?" He asks, cringing a bit.

"I think anything that's got your scent on it would do. Just bring something when you visit." the man says, handing him a card, and a plastic.. ID, similar to the one he uses to wear at the center right here. "I'm sure she'll appreciate it."

The card is from the Hybrid Behavioral Therapy Center in Daegu, contact info and location address clearly written down beneath the logo. But it'sthe plastic ID card that makes hus eyes widen, because it clearly spells out;

'Special Clearance Pass: Potential owner for hybrid 268.'

[seungminxstay]

party girl / seungkwan x reader / 18+ mdni

when you need liquid courage to fuck your best friend

Seungkwan was just back from an okay date when he saw an unexpected caller ID pop up on his phone. Hoshi calling him past midnight on a weekend, when was that ever a good thing?

“What did you do?”

“No, not me,” Hoshi replied, sounding surprisingly sober. “Y/n.”

Seungkwan’s frown deepened. “She told me she was studying today.”

“Well, look who’s here and wasted as hell. Come before she pukes on my precious sofa.”

Hoshi hung up before Seungkwan could argue, but he was already reaching for his jacket and keys.

It’s been a while since Seungkwan had to pick you up. Every party you’ve ever been to, from birthday parties in kindergarten to your first actual party in college, Seungkwan was there besides you - like he was in every important and non important stages of your life.

He drove off campus to the house Hoshi shared with several others, having to park three blocks away because of how crowded the street was. As soon as he got out of the car, he could hear music blaring in the near distance.

Seungkwan invited himself in Hoshi’s house - he’s been here too many times to count. He squeezed through the buzzing crowd, exchanging hasty greetings with people he recognized, but his attention was solely on finding you as he looked around the room

You were sitting on the sofa; or to be exact, you were curled up on Lee Chan’s lap, your hands comfortably resting on his arm, whispering something in his ear. Chan looked helpless as he simply sat back, letting you continue whatever game you were playing.

Seungkwan’s stomach burned. His initial reaction was to steer back, but when Chan met his eyes and mouthed “HELP ME,” he had no choice but to go and confront you.

“Y/n.”

“Kwannie,” you slurred, not even bothering to turn your head. “Aren’t you busy screwing your girlfriend?”

Seungkwan felt a sharp jab in his chest. You never talk to him like this.

“It’s just a date and she’s not my girlfriend. You’re drunk. Let’s go home.”

“No, I’m staying with Channie today, right, Channie?”

“Um, I might actually go and... get something to drink? God, I'm thirsty. See you guys later!”

He fled, leaving Seungkwan with a very drunk and sour you. You still refused to look at him, taking a swig from the plastic cup in your hand.

Seungkwan grabbed your wrist. You let out a yelp as the drink spilled over you, but that was the least of his worries.

“You’ve had too much,” he grunted. You whined in protest, but you were too drunk to physically fight back as Seungkwan, quite literally, dragged you out of the party and to the car.

It was silent on the drive back. Seungkwan considered dumping you on the doorsteps of your dorm and leaving someone else to deal with the mess you were. Unfortunately, your roommate was out for the night, and he couldn’t leave you like this. When you might wander off and find another guy to get friendly with.

He carried you up the stairs and to your room. He had the keys; you've said it was only for emergencies, but Seungkwan's emergencies included using your bed for naps between classes or just simply coming to bug you.

Today, though, was a different story. You and Seungkwan have fought endlessly since kindergarten, from petty playground fights to times when you stopped talking to each other for days. But one of you eventually caved in and made up after every fight. This was one of these instances, right?

"If you expect me to come every time you go and throw yourself on some random guy..."

“I didn’t even ask you to. I was doing fine with Chan,” you mumbled, knowing what you say was going to get him agitated. Seungkwan clenched his jaw.

“Well, I’m sorry then, you could have just fucked Channie and I shouldn't have cared. Why should I care?"

His voice rose louder than he intended to, and he could see a flash of hurt in your eyes. You both didn’t know - no, pretended not to notice - why you were working each other up like this.

Then the next second, you were kissing him. He stumbled backwards onto your bed, the force knocking the wind out of him.

It wasn’t like what Seungkwan had imagined from time to time - in the quiet afternoon library, or cuddled beneath the blankets of his bed, or on the doorsteps of your dorm, after a sweet date. It was messy and angry. You reeked of alcohol and Chan’s perfume.

Your hands grabbed his face, and Seungkwan found it so easy to get lost in the heated kiss. He could feel hot tears streaming down your cheeks, and everything was so overwhelming, he didn't know what to think. It just felt good. It felt perfect.

He was brought back to his senses by your hands snaking under his shirt.

“You're drunk, I'm not doing anything if you're - ”

“Please please please Seungkwan. You know I’ve only wanted you, all this time.”

Did you really mean it? Seungkwan tried meeting your eyes, but you were busy trailing kisses down his jawline, his neck...

You sank down on your knees. Seungkwan's breath hitched as you lowered his pants and brought your mouth to his bulge, embarrassingly hard from just the kisses alone.

Heat rose to his cheeks as he contemplated whether to look away from such a sinful sight - you, his best friend, his first love, his crush since forever, giving him head like you needed it. He could cum from just seeing you in this angle, nestled between his thighs and looking cute as hell.

Seungkwan had such a pretty cock. You ran your tongue up his length, swirling at the tip and using your whole mouth to take him in. One hand you kept wrapped around the base, the other you used to get yourself off. Seungkwan watched your hand travel underneath your skirt, moaning sweetly on his cock as you pleasured yourself.

He so badly wanted to be the one touching you, fingers buried in your pussy, thumb rubbing your clit. Just his imagination made him lightheaded, and he couldn't stop the loud moans as he came, hot cum hitting the back of your throat.

You tried swallowing, but some of the white was smeared on your lips. Seungkwan impulsively leaned over and kissed you square on the mouth.

“Did you just taste yourself?”

“It was gross. Spit it out next time.”

A next time. You smiled to yourself as you softly pushed him on his back, straddling him. You took off your shirt and bra. He was mesmerized by the sight, staring at your body being unwrapped like a Christmas present, your gorgeous curves, until you guided his hands there. He squeezed them gently and ran his fingertips over your nipples, earning a soft sigh from you.

"You're such a good boy Kwannie... Now let me ride your pretty cock. Hard already for me, hmm?"

Seungkwan groaned as you lowered yourself on his length. You squirmed around, getting used to his girth, but quickly picked up your pace as you felt it grazing your sweet spot.

Seungkwan covered his face with his hands, unable to take in everything without his face burning.

"Look at me,” you said, lacing your fingers with his. Seungkwan was all red and fucked out as you bounced on his cock, and knowing that you had so much power over him, hearing him moan your name, made the heat pooling in your lower body swell. You stifled a cry as an intense orgasm washed over you, falling over on Seungkwan and desperately wrapping your arms around his neck.

Your sensitive nipples brushed against his smooth chest, making you shiver, but it was the warmth of Seungkwan filling you up that brought you past your limit.

You were suddenly tired. You felt Seungkwan’s ragged, uneven breaths, his length still burried in you, the hollow of his collarbone perfectly matching the curve of your cheek…

.

You jolted awake, surprised to see a sleeping Seungkwan right next to you, his body pressed against yours. Your bed was too small for two people to share. Sunlight filtered through the edges of the curtain, dappling his cheekbones, and as you brushed his hair out of his eyes, you remembered everything from last night - your words, his words, how the kisses tasted like.

You both had started seeing other people since high school, but it had hurt, every single time, when Seungkwan would get a glimpse of you laughing at a random guy's jokes, or when you would call Seungkwan at the most spontaneous of times, only to find out that he was on a date with some other girl.

It was just a childhood crush. You’d eventually grow out of it. You were best friends before anything.

That was what you kept telling yourself, but apparently, it wasn't the case when it was Boo Seungkwan.

[ovaryacted]

Okay I’m home and chilled out, so I’m just gonna ramble about my thoughts/analysis that I keep having about perceiving Leon Kennedy as a sexual being. This might be long. I also want to reiterate that my word is not law, and everyone has their own hcs and stuff and that’s okay!

I know hard dom content is very popular across the erotica/smut medium as a whole. Rough sex has always been popular and trust me, I’m a fan too. But if I can be controversial for like two seconds, I don’t see Leon as a hard dom personally. Closest thing would be a rough daddy dom, but to me Leon always gave me someone who caters to their partner. He’s loving and affectionate, a little rugged and awkward sure, but nonetheless he cares and wants to give a good experience.

He studies his partner, learns about what makes them tick, what makes them moan, how their body responds to different stimuli. Leon is a perceptive human being, he observes things before fully handling them so he can take the best approach that gives him the best results. I think he’d approach sex the same way if he’s with someone that he cares for.

In a weird way, I also don’t think Leon is a sex god of sorts. He’d have to find the time and ability to actually experiment with different dynamics and kinks to figure out what he likes too. It’ll all be a learning process for him, but to me Leon is someone that prioritizes his partner’s pleasure above his own because that’s what gets him off. If you feel good, he feels good. He gets off on getting you off type of deal, that’s who he is.

I also think Leon’s sexual dynamics depend on where he is in his life. When he’s younger, he’s naive, grasping on to whatever makes sense so he’d be more inclined to letting someone else lead and show him things he wouldn’t know at first (hence why a lot of ppl write RE2 Leon as a sub). As he gets older, gets more experience here and there, he’d try building more of his own confidence and autonomy and realize he has the ability to take control. Consider RE4/ID/RE6, he’s smarter, more aged, more mature (it’s the trauma), so he’d be more able to take charge like others paint him out to be but I don’t think he’d be inherently “aggressive”, far from it really. He’s serious about communication and being vocal, because he has to hear whether or not he’s doing the right thing or he needs to tweak something for a better experience. He’s not selfish he’s a sweetheart, that I can stand ten toes on.

The period of time in Vendetta to me is where I would see the rough sex come out because he’ll be using it as a means of self harm. He wouldn’t want to hurt another person, but more so he doesn’t care about himself, so his actions will be considered “reckless” and he won’t realize the consequences of what he does until after it happens. He’s suicidal, depressed, an alcoholic, and exhausted with life…so whatever he does in the bedroom would reflect that. Leon would probably want someone to fuck him instead of the other way around, but what he says he wants vs what he really wants deep down would be considered two things. He says he wants the rough stuff and he’s detached when in reality he wants to be comforted and wants someone to treat him like a human being, not something to be discarded. He just wouldn’t vocalize that because he doesn’t think his wants or needs matter. You’d have to read him and dictate for yourself because he’s too ashamed of saying it out loud. (I will say Vendetta Leon is one of my favorite variations of him and he deserves all the love and safety his other versions get! He’s just an angst magnet lmao).

Now in DI and beyond, he has healthier relationship with things, probably more aware of his alcohol consumption and age, and possibly going to therapy. In a way, I think Leon at this age would be far more inclined to revert back to the way he was at 21, little childish, letting someone else lead because he finds safety in that. Many people believe submission assumes someone loses their power entirely, but the way I perceive it, it’s you being able to trust someone else to make decisions for you in your best interest.

So he would be very switchy as he gets he’s older, liking being submissive because that allows him to turn his brain off and let someone else take charge for him. He won’t have to make the choices for once, and either way so long as his partner feels good, he feels good.

As a dynamic character, this is just how I perceive Leon, and to me he’s more of a pleasure dom, and probably likes being dominated but it’ll take him a while to be comfortable in doing that after everything. Hence, why I want to write for sub Leon more, because I think he deserves to just feel safe in giving up control he never really had in his life.

[theywhowriteandknowthings]

The Princess and the Duke Chapter 5: Ready to Fall.

Co-authored by @angelofsmalldeath-codeine ILU Hemmy <3

This blog is a 18+ space, Minors, do not engage. If you are under the age of 18 you are not welcome here. Your reading and consumption of my work is your responsibility but I will endeavour to mitigate any discomfort for you, the reader, as possible. Once again, this is a 18+ space and minors should not interact. 

Specific Warnings: Allusions to smut, angst, heartbreak, stepcest(in bold, this is heavy on the issues around this), traumatic childhood, looking after parents as a child, sutures, mentions of past abuse, sad face Dave, crying? Lots of crying.

Let me know if I missed anything!

Graphic made by me, no use of Y/N. Wordcount: 4.5k

[Read on Ao3]

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You throw a bag of popcorn in the microwave and lean back against the counter as you try and make sense of the chaos of the last twenty-four hours. Dave is downstairs, having grumbled something about smelling like a hospital before heading to his bedroom.

~*~

Dave finishes up in the shower just as he hears his phone ring from the other room. He curses under his breath as he pulls on a pair of sweatpants before seeing the caller ID. His heart rate picks up as he answers immediately.

“Resnik,” he says curtly as he walks back into the shower, turning the faucet back on to cover why he’s not back with you on the sofa already. He turns on the extractor fan for added effect.

“You’re not going to believe who just turned up to my PI firm.”

“My wife?” Dave smiles to himself as he hears Resnik bark out a short laugh.

“How’d you know?”

“I’d be pretty shit at my job, Resnik, if I couldn’t keep tabs on my own fucking wife.”

“Fair enough, well, do you know what she wants me to do?”

“Catch me fucking her daughter?” Dave hears you on the phone in the other room. He doesn’t want to spend any more time talking about this than he has to.

“Bingo! So, what do you want me to do, boss?”

“Do what the woman asks, you won’t find anything of course, but don’t be sloppy. Surveil the shit out of me and make it look good.”

“And if I do catch anything?” Resnik asks and Dave can hear the smile on his face.

“You won’t.”  

Dave hangs up before Resnik can get another word in, he turns off the shower and checks himself out in the mirror, opting to keep the shirt off. He knows what the grey sweatpants do to you. He smirks at himself as he ruffles his hair a little. Once satisfied he heads back out into the basement.

~*~

Even though Dave is playing it cool you know he’s anything but ok. Your phone vibrates on the counter as your mom calls for the third time this afternoon. You consider ignoring it like all the others, but you relent, you probably shouldn't keep ignoring her. You pop the microwave open and retrieve the bag of popcorn, upending it into a bowl as you answer.

“Hey mom, what’s up?”

“Hey, sweetie, just letting you know I’ll be away for the weekend. Something came up with Danielle and I need to be there for her.”

Your jaw ticks to the side as you try and keep calm. You’re already heading back downstairs, phone tucked under your ear as you balance the bottles of water and the bowl of popcorn while trying not to fall down the steps.

“Oh no, is she ok?” You feign concern as you lay back against the sofa, pinching the bridge of your nose as you listen to the lies pouring so easily from your mother’s mouth. You set down the popcorn and Dave’s water bottle as you take a swig from your own.

“She and her husband are having a hard time, you remember that prenup you drew up for them. Well, it’s proving necessary.”

“That so? Sorry to hear it, but happy I could help.”

“Anyway, I should be home sometime on Wednesday. If you need anything let me know, ok?” You can hear the urgency in her voice now, she wants to get you off the line. She’s done the bare minimum and checked in, parental responsibility fulfilled. Box ticked.

“Ok, what about Dave?” You say as neutrally as you can muster.

“What about him, sweetie? Is he bothering you?” You can hear the panic in your mom’s voice, followed by a man’s voice in the background. You roll your eyes, it’s too cliché to even be funny. She shushes the other person as you try not to explode at her.

“He just got back from the hospital, pretty banged up. You know anything about that?”

“Oh, sweetie, I don’t know what you’re talking about. Probably went out and got into a bar fight, he’s always coming home with split lips and concussions. I’ll check on him in a bit.”

“Right, sure. Well, have fun with Danielle,” you don’t even try to hide the venom in your voice, but your mom doesn’t seem to notice.

“I will, thanks, sweetie. Don’t let Dave bother you. He’s a grown man, he can look after himself.”

“Uh-huh, bye mom.”

“Bye, sweetie, see you Wednesday!”

The line goes dead, and you close your eyes. You almost want to laugh at the ridiculous nature of the call. It’s all so surreal.

“She spending the weekend with Danielle?”

You yelp as you look up to see Dave giving you a sad smile, his hair still wet from the shower as he leans against the doorframe. You frown as you notice that he’s only wearing a pair of grey sweatpants.

“How’d you know it was her?” You challenge as he saunters over before settling in the middle of the sofa next to you.

“Danielle has been going through a lot recently, seems like your mom is there more often than she’s here.” Dave says with a humourless smile, his eyes flashing with thinly veiled anger.

“Seems like it,” you grumble as you grab the throw blanket from the back of the sofa, “You should be wearing more clothes.”

“Don’t like what you see?” Dave challenges as he gives you a sideways look, the smile on his face genuine this time. It makes your heart flutter, the way he’s looking at you with a challenge in his dark eyes.

“Of course I do,” you roll your eyes as you wrap the blanket around his shoulders, “But you’re no good to me if you freeze to death.”

 “Point taken,” he concedes as he wraps an arm around you, pulling you in close as he makes sure you’re covered too. You breathe in as you press against his side, your one hand splayed across Dave’s abs as you nuzzle against his chest.

“So, she pretended that she didn’t even know about your head injury. Is she just going to act as if it didn’t happen?”

You ask, unsure if you’re crossing a line as you pick up the remote to start a new episode of ‘Parks and Rec’ but you’re not really paying attention. You lean back against Dave, wrapping the fleece throw blanket around you both as you try to make sure he’s covered and warm. You look down to the coffee table at the bowl of popcorn you’d made while Dave was in the shower and your stomach growls.

“Seems that way,” Dave says as he lets out a noncommittal grunt, clearly not wanting to talk about it.

“She’s such a bitch,” you grumble as you lean forward to grab the bowl of popcorn from the coffee table. Dave doesn’t respond to that, but the moment the bowl is within reach he grabs a piece and lifts it to your mouth. His dark eyes scanning your face for rejection, but he finds none.

You feel heat rise to your cheeks as you let him feed you the small morsel, his fingertips ghost along your lips. It’s somewhat a habit of his, whenever you share food, he makes sure you take the first bite. It makes your stomach flutter every time.

Dave’s phone buzzes on the coffee table and you feel him tense up under you. Your eyes flick to the offending object and you lean forward to set it to Do Not Disturb as a message from Nancy comes through.

“Not going to let me answer that?” Dave asks, his voice low, almost disapproving.

“Nope, I want to spend some real time with you, Dave, just you.”

“She’s just going to be covering her ass anyway, it won’t be important.”

Dave grunts in assent at this as you settle back against him, occasionally feeding popcorn to one another as the episodes play out on the screen. You’re barely watching though, focusing on making sure Dave is covered at all times and making sure he’s eating.

“I’m concussed, not dying,” Dave says eventually as he presses his lips to the crown of your head.

“I know, sorry, I’m just not used to looking after someone not in immediate danger.”

“What do you mean?” Dave asks as he leans back, dark eyes searching your face as the episode is forgotten.

“Just,” you pause, trying to determine how much you want to share, “Mom was drunk, a lot, when I was a kid.”

“And it fell to you to look after her?”

“Pretty much, she sometimes had boyfriends and husbands but most of the time it was left to me.”

“That’s,” Dave pauses as he sighs heavily, “a lot.”

“I learned a lot of basic first aid, so it’s not all bad,” you chuckle, an automatic smile ghosting your lips as you recall some of the more morbid memories, “I sewed my first suture when I was twelve.”

Dave almost chokes on his water as he hears this, eyes wide. Even with all his training to remain neutral, this catches him off guard. You feel a wash of shame and fear course through you, and you flinch. Dave sees your reaction and his face softens immediately, a hand coming up to cup your jaw, but he stops himself.

“Hey, I’m not judging you,” his voice is soothing, low and non-threatening, like he’s talking to a frightened animal, “I just didn’t know.”

“It’s ok, we’ve all got our own fucked up baggage, right?”

You take his hand in your own and press your cheek into his palm. You hum softly as the warm press of skin-on-skin grounds you.

“It’s not ok,” he says, bringing his other hand up so he’s cupping your face with both, “You didn’t deserve to go through that.”

“I know, but it is what it is, y’know? She’s my mom, I did what I had to do.”

But your words sound hollow – even to you – as you remember the countless times you’d been forced to parent your own mother, let alone yourself. Dave rubs his thumbs over your cheekbones, his brow is creased like he wants to say something but can’t.

“Hey,” you say as you circle your fingers around his wrists, “Let me go grab a take-out menu so we can order in some proper food?”

Dave nods, welcoming the change of topic as his stomach growls loudly. You both chuckle at the sound.

“Sure, sounds like a plan.”

~*~

“We bought too much food, didn’t we?”

You look at the take-out containers littered across the coffee table and laugh as Dave shrugs his shoulders nonchalantly. You’d convinced him to put on a shirt when he went to get the take-out from the driver, grumbling about him catching his death. He’d relented, even putting on a hoodie just to make you happy.

“I don’t know, I’m pretty fucking hungry,” he grins at you with bright eyes, his cheek dimpling as he pops open one of the cartons.

“Same,” you admit as you start opening the rest of the cartons. There is definitely too much food.

You pile up your plate and soon you’re both eating your fill, a pleasant, peaceful silence filling the room. Your knees bump occasionally as you lean forward to refill your plates. Heat floods your cheeks when you catch Dave stealing glances at you.

“So, mom said you have kids, mind if I ask about them?”

“Go for it, what do you want to know?”

“Boys or girls?” You ask before taking a bite and chewing slowly as you wait for the answer.

“Two girls, Molly and Alice.”

“How old?”

“Molly’s ten, Alice is eight.”

“Do you miss them?”

Dave’s smile falters as you watch him mull over his response before answering.

“All the time,” he says as he cocks his head at you, as if trying to figure you out but he says nothing more.

“How old are you, Dave?” You almost regret asking but Dave’s lips twitch up.

“Thirty-seven, why?”

“No reason, just would have thought you were older with two kids and two marriages under your belt,” you pause and scoff at the irony, “but it makes sense, she always liked her men younger.”

Dave’s brow arches at the comment but doesn’t press the issue, clearly not willing to dig that deep tonight.

“It would have been one marriage, but Carol realised she isn’t as much into men as she once thought.”

“Oh,” you wince at your misstep and try to back pedal, “I’m sorry, Dave, I didn’t mean to bring it up like that.”

Dave waves his fork at you, his face a picture of amusement as he watches you fumble over your own words.

“It’s fine, Carol and I are best friends. It’s not a sore spot, not anymore.”

You lapse back into silence as you continue eating way too much food. You steal glances at Dave from time to time, smiling giddily when you catch him doing the same. You know so little about Dave, but the simple act of eating with him makes your chest flutter. It’s domestic and sweet and all too comfortable.

“Why’d you stop practicing law?” Dave asks as he shovels another portion of food onto his plate.

“I guess I just got a bit sick of the corporate grind,” you shrug, pushing your food around the plate as you try to give him a proper answer. The truth is, you were never happy but it’s what your mom wanted of you.

“And I bet Nancy just loved being able to flaunt your success to everyone that would listen?”

“It’s like you’re reading my mind there, Dave,” you say, shaking your head as you meet his sympathetic gaze, “But yeah, it was yet another thing I did for my mom.”

“Have you ever done something just for you? Something that makes you happy? Or just because you wanted to do it?”

His question catches you off guard and you’re almost angry at the insinuation, but you sigh as you shake your head.

“Cam Dolls. This was the first thing I chose for myself ever. I love the work. It’s freeing.”

You cringe as you realise how stereotypical your answer is but it’s the truth.

“I’m glad, because you’re damn good at it.”

“Thanks,” you smile at him, your cheeks burning at the praise, “That means a lot.”

There’s another pause as you feel jealousy rear its head, twisting itself around your stomach as you think about the fact Dave might watch other streamers.

“So, you follow many other Cam Dolls accounts?” You ask, eyes downturned as you try to brace for the sting of reality.

“Nope. Just you. Only time I came close was the day I picked you up, you don’t stream on Fridays and that car ride was intense.”

You look up, eyes wide as you search Dave’s face for any signs of deception. He smiles softly at you, shoulders relaxed as he holds your gaze. You’re caught off guard, you don’t know how to feel about that. Pleased? Guilty for casting aspersions on Dave as a form of self-sabotage? Do you want him to watch other people to make it easier for you to distance yourself?

“What do you get out of it? I mean is it the watching someone get off?”

You pivot in your line of questioning, not wanting to linger on the way it makes you feel special to be his only subscription.

“I hope this isn’t too much information,” he starts, looking down at his food, exhaling softly as he considers whether or not to continue, “But your mom and I don’t exactly fuck, at all.”

His tone comes across bitter, angry. The harsh language only confirming the resentment as you fumble for something to say.

“How long?”

The question leaves your lips before you can stop it, a traitorous spark of hope spurring you on.

“Since she and Danielle, got so close. Pretty much straight after our honeymoon.”

There it is, the unspoken admission that he knows about Bryce, he knows about the cheating. He’s all but said it now and your stomach twists while you try and process the confirmation. But it tracks, your mom never did stick to just one guy for long.

“Then you know she’s violated your prenup, right? She can’t hang it over you?”

Your brain switches into full lawyer mode. You’ve not had a chance to consider any of the ways to exploit it, you’ve been far too busy looking after Dave. But immediately you can poke fist sized holes in the agreement, even without the cheating clause.

“How’d you know about the prenup?”

Dave’s eyes are stone cold as you return your gaze to him, his jaw is set to the side, nostrils flared. You feel the anger rolling off him in waves as he silently demands an answer. You don’t know why he’s suddenly so tense, but that you know about it clearly has him on edge.

“I was the one who drafted it. But I thought it was for Danielle.”

“For Danielle? But she’s not even married-?” Dave cuts himself off as his anger quickly melts into incredulity. His eyes crease at the corners as he lets out a short laugh before slumping back against the couch. It’s like a weight has been lifted from his shoulders as he considers the ammunition to void it. You being the presiding council for the prenup was the missing piece for him, the sure-fire way he could get it thrown out in court.

“Makes it even easier to break now huh?”

“Wow, I’d have been utterly fucked if it weren’t void for the fact that you’re not licensed to practice in Texas. I’m impressed.”

And all the other reasons.

You think to yourself as you consider how many other ways it’s void now you take the time to think about it. Unconscionability for one, you didn’t know who it was being drawn up for, you can’t be considered independent council. Conflict of interests since one of the parties is your own mother. There’s more but you can’t think of it off the top of your head.

You look down at your plate, bashful at the way Dave looks at you. He’s impressed and it makes you feel weak at the knees the way he looks at you, like you’re competent. Worthy.

“It was nothing, ‘thought I was doing mom’s friend a favour,” you shrug, deflecting praise as always. You’d just written it up as a favour to your mom, it was no big deal.

“You don’t have to do that with me,” he says softly as he looks you up and down, a warmth in his eyes that makes you want more than you’re allowed to want from him.

“Do what?”

“Put yourself down, minimise your achievements.”

You don’t know what to say, it feels like your heart could break as he sees through your carefully curated mask. The confident, but not brash daughter. The smart but not too smart overachiever. The muted version of yourself that you cling to like a life raft.

“I just- I’m just not used to people actually giving enough of a damn to want to see me succeed. I guess.”

“That’s their loss.”

You can hear the anger in his voice. He’s clever enough to piece together what you’re saying, he knows his wife well enough to catch your meaning.

“You didn’t answer my question,” you say as you set your plate down, turning to look at him, “You know about the cheating, you knew the prenup was invalid, regardless of my involvement making it void.”

Dave’s jaw ticks to the side as he puts his plate down, a wince twisting his face into a snarl as he clutches his head. You want to lean over and touch his arm, comfort him, but you don’t.

“Yes, I do.”

“Then why do you stay?”

Do you still love her?

You think to yourself, but you can’t say it aloud, too afraid of the answer.

“It’s complicated.”

“Complicated, sure. Like fucking your stepdaughter isn’t complicated.”

You snap, tears flowing down your cheeks as you feel jealousy and self-loathing weighing you down. You feel pathetic, your premature and downright inappropriate feelings making you act like a spurned teenager. You shouldn’t have brought it up, you should have just left it alone. Left Dave alone.

Dave opens and closes his mouth a few times before falling silent, shutting down like you’ve seen him do around your mother when he has to hold his tongue. He turns away from you, a blush creeping up his face as he sees your tears. That hurts the most, seeing him close himself off the way he does with your mom.

You’re just like her.

Your inner voice mocks you as you suddenly feel a hollow dread form in the pit of your stomach.      

“I’m going to box up these leftovers,” you wipe your eyes harshly with a napkin, “Don’t get up, I don’t need your help, and you should be resting.”

You snap as you watch him shift on the sofa, trying to stand and help. He pauses, eyes flashing with defiance before conceding. You smile to yourself at how petulant he looks, jaw ticked to the side as he watches your every move.

You box up anything worth keeping before stowing it back in the plastic bag it came in, grateful to have a distraction as your mind races. You feel something for Dave, and it hurts. It hurts that you know there can never be anything between you, that this arrangement can’t last.

But you try and bury it as you head up the stairs, focusing on the task at hand. You store everything neatly at the back of the fridge, hiding it behind bottles of sauces and some Greek yoghurt so your mom is less likely to find it and throw it in the trash.

 You turn and yelp as you almost crash into Dave’s chest, you hadn’t heard him follow you back upstairs. He’s looking down at you with a hunger that makes your breath hitch in your chest.

“Thank you,” his voice is low, husky, as he eyes you up and down. You swallow heavily as you look up through your lashes at him.

“Don’t have to thank me, you’re hurt,” you shrug as you try not to fawn up at him, you’re feeling more than lust as he lingers over you. Your hands are balled at your sides as you have to fight the urge to pull him down and kiss him. You can smell his spiced shampoo and his deodorant, he’s so close it’s intoxicating.

“Still, I’m grateful.”

He seems to hesitate, licking his lips as he holds your gaze for a little too long. Dave waited until you’d finished at the fridge, knowing that it’s the only blind spot in the kitchen. Resnik is good, but he can’t see through walls. It’s risky but he doesn’t care, he needs you right now.  

“Can I kiss you?”

He asks, the breathy rasp of his voice makes you shiver as you clench your thighs together. You ache for him, but you’re already far too emotional right now.

“Dave, we can’t,” you protest meekly as you press your palms feebly against his chest, “Your head.”

“Don’t care.”

“I said, no.”

Your voice is stronger than you’d expected, and it seems to sober him. His expression hardens and he nods curtly. You kind of want him to push, to be an asshole just like every other man that came before. It would make what you’re about to do so much easier. You step past him, trying to ignore the way his shoulders droop in defeat as you go.

“Well, I’m going to head to bed, rest up and all that.”

You’d give anything to go back downstairs, to cuddle and forget the pain, forget the feelings burning in your chest. But you can’t, you have to stop this.

“Sounds like a good plan,” you nod, avoiding his gaze as you side-step him, “I’m going to call Ash and stay there for a while.”

“You don’t have to do that,” Dave’s voice breaks as he speaks, and you can’t help but turn and face him. Your heart breaks as you see the lost look in his eyes. Gone are the stone-cold looks, perfectly constructed barriers. All you see is Dave, broken, vulnerable, afraid.

“I do, and you know it.”

“You shouldn’t feel uncomfortable in your own home,” he says, almost without thinking and your mouth falls open. You don’t know what to say.

“It’s not my home though, is it? That’s kind of the problem.”

You don’t wait for Dave to respond, practically sprinting upstairs as you pull out your phone. You can barely see the screen as you dial Ashleigh’s number, setting it to speaker before throwing it on the bed.

“Hey babe,” Ash answers on the second ring, “What’s up?”

“I need to stay with you for a while. Getting an Uber, I’ll explain when I get there,” you choke out through heavy sobs, your chest heaving as you pull up the Uber app. You hear the jingle of keys on the other end of the line, and you smile despite yourself.

“Fuck that, I’m on my way, hold tight,” Ash orders down the line, “You at your mom’s?”

“Yeah.”

“Be there in twenty.”

“Thanks, Ash, I love you.”

“Love you too, I’ll be there soon.”

She hangs up and you sit down, letting yourself sob for a little while before packing everything you need, including your laptop just in case you need to stream.

You storm back downstairs with your laptop bag and suitcase in tow. You feel your heart clench in your chest as you see Dave hasn’t moved an inch, ghostly pale as he stares into the mid-distance. He doesn’t even register your presence until you’re marching through the door.

“Wait,” he calls after you as he follows you, but he stops at the threshold, hesitant to head out onto the porch.

“I’ve got nothing to say to you Dave, don’t call me, don’t text me.”

“Please, don’t go,” his voice is desperate as he calls after you.

“Do you still love her?”

You turn on your heel as you see Ash parking up at the end of the drive. You stare him down as he hesitates. You know what he’s going to say before he even opens his mouth.

“It’s-,”

“Complicated? Yeah, I figured,” you spit as you charge down the steps, fresh tears springing forth as you yell over your shoulder as you load your bags into the trunk of Ash’s car. You pause, hating the way his face lights up as turn to look at him from the car, “You and my mom are fucking perfect for each other.”

You hold Dave’s gaze as you slam the door behind you. You fasten your seatbelt and tell Ash to drive before you curl up into a ball letting yourself grieve for a loss you have no claim to.  

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[itsyagurlchip]

WAIT I SENT THE ASK TOO EARLYA AUWHAUDHDEKDVW

how is the original bone skeleton man doing?? OH OH AND is the setting the usual portal opening in the house and bam you've got new uncles or something else??? YAIOEPEPWLWKWPWBAOAV

buckle up, cuz this is super long yall 🥲

OKAY!!! THIS IS WHERE MY "INTERESTING" PART COMES IN 😁 monsters are just coming to the surface, and speciesism is as high as ever. after a year of this, queen toriel decides to open a human-monster program, something that also promotes her small school.

monsters adopt humans! ebbot was a bit iffy on it, but after realizing the benefits the mayor eventually agreed. (jk that nigga only wants the money 💀-) It was hard to get the program started, because many schools and orphanages werent as trusting, and the state wasn't fundinh it at all. So Toriel took a different approach.

Many monsters put their savings into it, considering their currency is literal fucking gold, and the program would allow each child to get $1000+ per month, depending on their age and needs. and yes giving kids thousands of dollars per year doesn't sound like a good idea, but shhhhh! the plot my dear!

The monsters who take care of them aren't allowed to use it themselves in selfish situations. Both the child and the guardian has rules.

one) you guys have to interact in some way. whether it be verbally, or even physically. two) NOTHING 18+, as all children being minors, that would be kinda weird. three) follow laws as follows- just dont be a shitty parent. four) the child has to want to participate as well, and cant do anything to hurt the guardian. including verbally (bc monster souls are made of feelings pretty much [thats another hc for another day])

id love to go deeper into the details, yet i however cannot bc i dont know how a parent-child program works.

and you have to be in the program for 1 month before you or the child wants to back out.

doesn't matter if its one-sided or not, when someone doesn't like it it immediately stops. id like to say that frisk and papyrus put most if their money into this, just so she can be adopted by toriel.

so when papyrus sees that gaster and sans have been stuck in the lab (not the basement!) for globs of hours at a time, sporadic sleeping, and overall exhaustion from work, he says the craziest shit

"SINCE YOU TWO ARE NERD BUMS, AND I CAN'T ALWAYS BE AT HOME FOR YOU TWO, I ADOPTED A HUMAN CHILD!!"

sans, in his sleep deprived state, promptly rose an eyebrow and fell out of his chair onto his side.

yea, its not that he didn't take the thing well, bro couldn't process it 💀💀

gaster just rolled his only visible eyelight and went back to work

....

well that worked well!!

reader arrived to the house the next day, and seeing that it was a two story house!?!?

AND there was an in-law suite? fuck yea! orphan kid made the jackpot 💥💥😼

they had fuckin steps too les goo!!

Your dark skin shined against the light of the sun, your brown eyes sparkling in excitement.

reader let go of papyrus's hand and ran inside immediately.

Careful as to not smudge your dirty shoes against the shiney floor, you looked around the house in amazement. This place had to have atleast 5 rooms!

and then the in law suite on the side looked like another 2 rooms!?? BEST DAY OF YOUR LIFE!!

Not only did you have super nice guardians (you hoped), they were packed enough to keep you and themselves stabilized!! Hell, if theirs more people, they could support them aswell!!

Taking off your shoes, you looked around the living room. The long couch was green, albiet a bit patchy for a nice place, while the tan side couches could lean back!!

where those outlets on the sides? omg

"HAVING FUN DEAR HUMAN CHILD?" Papyrus smirked. He knew that the house of the Great Papyrus was enough to impress anyone, even of young ages.

"You guys are so rich!! wow- i mean, not that im tryna take your money or anything, but like- WOW!! Its so big!! Bigger than anything ive ever been to!" You were now flapping your hands and bouncing a bit. Your locs of hair bounced in it's pony tail no matter how small the fidget-hop was.

Behind the living room was a beautiful and lavish kitchen, and to the right there was the steps. To the right it looked like some like of master bedroom or guest bathroom.

But you didn't care about rooms right now, you wanted to see your other guardians!!

"Where are the other people im supposed to be meeting? Are you my only guardian or do they have to take care of me too? Are they mean? Are they bums? I hope they dont smoke or something, Do they have an addiction? What about-"

"THAT!, DEAR CHILD, IS GOING TO BE FOR INTRODUCTIONS!! DO NOT WORRY, WHILE THOSE TWO MAY BE GRUMPS, THEY ARE PLEASANT PEOPLE TO BE AROUND...EVEN IF THE LACK OF SLEEP TAKES THEIR PLEASANT PERSONALITY AWAY..." Papyrus concluded. You noticed that, despite the way he tried to talk to himself, you still heard it loud and clearly.

Maybe he had a hard time with volume control. meh.

Grabbing your hand and leading you towards the back door next to the kitchen, Papyrus opened the door. He had to lean down a bit in order to hold your hand, but he didn't mind.

The hallway was looooong. Instead of it being regular walls, it was glass windows of different colors. Which made you raise an eyebrow abit.

Seeing your reaction, the tall skeleton explained, "SINCE WE DO NOT HAVE ENOUGH SPACE FOR EXPERIMENTAL ACTIVITY, TOTALLY NOT BOMBS, MY BROTHER AND FATHER DECIDED TO LIVE IN THE SUITE!" He said, walking and talking.

You both reached the end of the hallway, hearing mumblings, ramblings, and overall terms that lowkey hurt your brain.

Getting too excited, you open the door to a glass-based lab. With the occasional plastic and metal equipment.

In the middle of the room there was an island counter filled was rainbow colored stuff ('gay as hell' , you sniggered), small green candies, and lots and lots if paper and pencils sharpened to the ends.

At one end of the room, there was a tall skeleton, a little shorter than Papyrus, who was more goop than skeleton. Infact, he looked like someone took a fire torch to his upper body, but you didn't say anything.

At the other end, there was a short skeleton, probably shorter than you (hah, being 5'0 did pay off), laying with his head on the desk, knocked out with blue slob. You marveled at the sight, wanting to know more about monsters at this revelation.

"FATHER! BROTHER! THIS IS THE CHILD I ADOPTED FOR ALL OF US!" Papyrus announced, grinning undauntedly. The smaller skeleton banged his head on the desk at the loud voice, while the other one barely flinched and turned slowly in irritation. "INTRODUCE YOURSELVES WHILE I MAKE LUNCH FOR THE GROWING FETUS!" He declared, marching out with a big smile.

If this plan went correctly, then his favorite family members would be mentally stable (as much as one could try- he thought to himself).

after banging his head on the damned table, sans sat up a bit disoriented.

why was there a human child in the house?

why was it in the lab?

"uhh kid, ur not supposed be here...uhh, its not safe and uh, you could die."

"WOW! Your so freakin cool! How do you talk without moving your face? Are you wearing a mask? I could die here! ooh shiney stuff, can i touch it?"

yea.. this kid has not had a proper friend in a minute

he was overwhelmed by the questions you asked at first, he didn't answer them at all in favor of watching gaster struggle to calm you down.

sans didn't mind how loud you were, it was moreso the curiosity that you brought along with you.

that wouldn't do.

"Hey! What's this?" the kid asked, walking towards the machine that could very much possibly cause the heat death of the universe, before getting snatched up by gaster.

"Enough! you are here to introduce yourself, and you will do as such" It was funny to see the man twitch like that. sans likes this kid already.

After knowing your name and age, sans was a bit surprised.

he honestly thought you were younger.

while introducing himself he tried to keep it simple and short. how old is he?

"how old am i old man?"

His blue slippers shifted from the movement of his ankle bones.

he thought you were just an average kid, but something about you was different.

oddly enough you always wore these earrings saying Y on the right and N on the left.

he wonder what it meant

Now its a week past since you came into the 'haunted house', aka the skele-dungeon

you two play pranks against gaster when he has free time. watching him bounce his leg in irritation every time he finds a lima bean in his notes is pure gold.

since you're virtual, due to your choice, he tries to take you places.

some of the most consistent ones are dance class every saturday and neighborhood walks you take by yourself.

I think of sans is the type of person to give less of a shit about his dad.

mostly because if the way he approaches things, iN tHE NaME oF sCIeNcE

it pisses him off everytime he tries to ask you for a blood sample

and it makes him even angrier when you say yes without a second thought.

but despite that, he cares about gaster.

but he wants to choke him out being his first son.

Despite being constantly sleep deprived, he makes time for this little new joy in his life.

Back then he's sleep at his desk, especially when his magic reserves were too low to shortcut.

But now, and you thought he didn't notice, you carry him to the living room of the main house and turn the tv volume down to 9 when you cant fall asleep.

another thing you both have in common

More often than not, you both find each other at the odd hours if the night.

since he can barely cook shit, it's mostly you making the midnight snacks

he appreciates the food you make for him, despite him initially coming to get a 10 1/2 ounce bag of chips

other times you guys will sit in the living room in silence

occasionally he'll find himself rambling to you about physics, specifically quantum, so he can keep his memory up.

sans likes the way you treat his brother.

as an uncle and not a childish cousin.

You may not be able to keep up with Papyrus's schedules and puzzles

but when you can, you two shine this wholesome light on the whole house that makes sans's soul ache lovingly.

Papyrus likes to take you out for walks more than him, or you'll both hang out in the backyard next to the glass hallway of the suite.

on his breaks, he'll find you two doing silly things

like rolling in the grass

or trying to carry each other.

without being able to admit it, sans and papyrus feel a new joy in their life.

and they got a cool kid to come with it :)

Gaster and sans were in the lab when his father said the most dumbest shit his nonexistent ears could ever listen to

gaster was never fully succumbed into the void, as sans had saved him before anything totally horrible happened.

hence his melted face and arms.

but he saw something, or rather somethings, that his meticulous little nerd brain has been hyperfiaxting on since the child came.

"Let's discover new universes!"

sans was just like 'naw, jit crazy'

so gaster fucks around with the machine for a while in secret while sans is frolicking with his newly adopted child.

ew, children.

but he guesses that she's okay, despite her adamant queries (hehe).

and soon enough, the machine made that man find out after he fucked around

Now that the machine stopped pouring in different variants of his children, this only made gaster more excited to use the machine.

sans on the other hand was fuckin freaking out.

the damn geezer did it

but not only that, there are aggressive ass versions of him who are willing to kill a child and that wont go.

sans is not gonna give on the things that bring him joy that easy.

*insert battle sequence*

ok so he got his ass whooped, no biggie.

and now his adopted child is befriending them. great.

annnddd now his brother is taking care of them. even better.

AANNNDD now his father is too interested in them to try and find a way to send them back. AMAZING!

bro wants to jump off a roof at this point

to be honest, he doesn't like the other versions of himself.

Theyre different possibilities of what could've happened currently and he already thinks about that enough.

but, reader likes them, so he gives them a pass.

but if they hurt her...or even worse, his brother...

he wont need the machine to figure out a way to take them out of this world.

KITTY!! THANK U SM!!! ✨❤️✨❤️✨🫣❤️🫣❤️ EKKK!! YOU GUYS BRING ME SUCH JOY 😋😋😋 YAYAYAYAYYAYAYAYAYAYATATATTATATATTATATATATATTATATATTATATATATTATATATA IM SO HAPPY!! YHSHABDGSIWKSBHSUWBWHAISNEGEYGSBAOWOAMQNWHUDBRYDUBJQIBSGATUWOWUEHRBXKMXBSYSJBSBZ-

i know the reader sounds super excited rn, which is sorta unexpected for an orphan centered fic, in the official thing you're gonna see a less than..nice attitude from them.

btw i wanna make a house plan to this can make more sense for your guys. ohhhhhhhh- IM TOO DAMN EXCITED 😋😋💕 i prolly gotta learn skeleton anatomy too-

@kittykittyanon @radicallxser @oleander-nin @towomatos @thealphagirl @ziipzeepzop-eez @amorvincitomnia-14 @spongejuice @cyb3r-st4r. if you would like to be added, check my blog. if you would like to be added, check my blog. SEE? I SAID IT TWICE!!

[kindnessisweakness2]

5

"Oh my god! No you never!" Emily's laughter echoed around the empty house. " No Jax, I call bullshit!" She struggled to get the words out in between giggles. A red faced Jax was a sight for sure. He was never the type to get embarrassed, not easily anyway. But he could feel the warm glow on his cheeks as he told Emily the story of him falling victim to one of Opies pranks. "No seriously! I had to walk back from the lake Naked Em! Fucker stole my clothes while I was swimming with a girl. Wouldn't have been as bad but I had to walk through town in the middle of the day! My mom wasn't impressed." That spurred on another round of laughter from Emily as she imagined a naked Jax strolling down Main Street. They sat curled up on either end of Emily's plush sofa. Both comfy under the fluffy blankets she kept within arms reach. The TV played in the back ground, a movie neither of them had paid attention to. Instead they sat and actually talked. About any thing and everything, childhood memories, family and what they want from life. Jax's kutte hung on the hook by the front door, his phone in the pocket, giving Emily his full attention. And for the first time in a long time Jax felt disconnected from the stress and worry of the club. It felt weird to say but being there with Emily, it felt homely. Safe. "So you know all about my disastrous love life. It's only fair I learn about yours." Emily smiled at Jax over the top of her mug of tea as she took a sip. He shifted against the side of the sofa, always uncomfortable at the mention of Tara, but she was right it was only fair. "That was a mess, to say the least. First love, high school sweethearts. Felt like I had to be with her every minute of every day or id lose my mind. She just took over everything ya know? Couldn't see myself with anyone else. But her and club never mixed. She just couldn't understand my connection to it. My future has always been laid out for me, I'm gonna be at the head of that table, with alot of men's lives in my hands one day. My responsibility to keep them safe, to make the right decisions and get them back to their families. My mom always said it was flawed from day one. Said Tara wasn't strong enough. And looking back she was right, she pulled me away every opportunity she got. She had bigger dreams. Wanted to be a successful doctor with a cookie cutter house and a white picket fence. But I couldn't give her that. And so came the ultimatum. Her or club." Jax's eyes never left Emily as she listened to him talk. The way her face twisted he could see she wanted to say something. "Did you ever consider it? Leaving club for her I mean?" Jax smiled at her. "Of course I did. Packed a bag and everything. But then I quickly realised that I couldn't go. Look, ever since I was a kid all I wanted was a Harley and a Kutte. If I left with her I would be giving that up. Plus, what the fuck was I gonna do? I'm an okay mechanic who barely got his GED. How the fuck was I meant to provide for us, or even think of starting a family? I'm not Noah. I won't sit on my arse and let my girl bust hers to pay for everything." Emily nodded as Jax spoke. She couldn't help but think how nice it was. To sit here and just talk, be open. " Sorry for that last comment. But you must get what I mean? What kind of man would I be if I can't provide for my own." Emily smiled as she placed her now empty cup on the coffee table. "Don't worry. I know i was stupid when it came to Noah. I only have myself to blame for letting him do me dirty like that. I didn't want to see what was infront of my face. Like I said before, love blind." Emily quickly brushed the comment away, not wanting to reveal the truth. The truth was ugly and painful, and she didn't want to admit it to anyone, let alone Jax Teller. Noah had broken her, but she wouldnt admit it to anyone. She wouldnt give him the satisfaction of knowing he made her weak. Anyone asked she was fine, like always. Emily was a pro at masking how she really felt.

Jax sat looking at Emily. He could tell she wasnt as okay as she was trying to make out. Nobody could be in a relationship for that long, go through a betrayal like that and just be fine. Jax's phone rang, cutting through the comfortable silence. "You should probably get that." Emily smiled as she grabbed their cups and headed into the kitchen to give him some privacy. Jax's eyes widened in suprise. Most girls would go moody at their time being cut short, or atleast wanted to listen into the call. Being privy to club information is only an old lady perk. While he took the call from Chibs, Emily quickly tidied her kitchen packing a to go box of the meatball subs she had made them earlier, along with some victoria sponge cake. Making sure they were wrapped good she quickly popped them in a bag as Jax appeared in the kitchen. "Im sorry, i've got to go. Club shit." Emily smiled at him and handed him the bag of food. "Its okay. I get it dont worry. I packed you some left overs from earlier. If it turns out to be a late night atleast you'll have some decent food." For the second time that night Jax's eyes widened in suprise. Taking care of people clearly came natural to her. "I had a really nice time tonight Em." Jax smiled at her as she followed behind him to the front door. "Me too." She pulled him in to a hug before opening her door for him. "Look Jax, i dont know what club business your going to deal with. Its not my place to know. But just be careful." He smirked at her concern as he leaned against her door frame. "Always am Babe." Rolling her eyes, but unable to wipe the smile from her face at the blatant flirting from the blonde adonis, Emily watched as Jax rode away on his Harley.

Butterflies still flew around her stomach long after Jax had gone, but she did her best to ignore them. He flirted with everyone. From what she knew about this town he had slept his way through most of it after Tara and never settled down. She would just be another notch on his bedpost if she gave in to the temptation. Another woman silly enough to swoon over THE Jaxon Teller.

Or would she?

[cannibalizedlove]

hey id love to request a jimmy oneshot where the (male) reader is working the midnight shift at a convenience store, and Jimmy notices them while walking by during his midnight walks nd buys a cigarette pack (only to get some attention) and just basically jimmy trying to shoot his shot with the reader !! idk if youd do this req because it's a small fandom and Jimmy (entergalactic) is voiced by timothee :)) but id hope you consider giving Entergalactic a watch and maybe write the oneshot ! also totally random but reminder to stay hydrated and drink your water 🫶

Jimmy is the cutest, thank you so much for this ask, I literally love him. I just rewatched the movie to freshen my memory for this request! Also, I couldn’t resist using this gif, can you blame me? Hope you enjoy <3

Can I get you something.

Information and warnings — x male reader, flirting, smug Jimmy, the trio being silly, awkward Jimmy trying to land pick up lines, first time meeting, fluff.

You rubbed your eyes as you opened the shop door, the familiar ringing of the bell reminding you that you’re clocked in for a 7 hour shift.

You flicked the remaining bud of your joint as you flipped the “Be back soon” sign back to “Open.”

The first thirty minutes of your shift were spent playing a cat-themed candy crush rip off while sipping a tall boy version of a Coca Cola, avoiding your duties of shop clean up and restock.

You were enjoying your silence and lack of work while still being paid, as trio of overtly intoxicated men stumbled into your convenience store.

“I’m Jabari and I’m too scared to fuck my fine ass neighbor, cause I’m scared of pussy! Wah Wah.” The tallest one announced, picking on his friend as he ripped a Monster energy out of the holder.

The one you assumed was Jabari, pushed his friend in a half joking, half fuck off way as he grabbed out two cases of beer, either taking the party home, or to another trap-house.

Yet over all of the commotion, your eyes were drawn to the last one to come in, he was scrawny with a shaved head, and seemed more airy opposed to stumbling; definitely more high than drunk.

You continued to swipe for three matching cats, occasionally looking up to see Buzzcut grabbing handfuls of roadtrip-esque snacks to satisfy his munchies. Though, you’d quickly push your head down and fumble with something on the counter to “act busy” when he’d catch your stare, which seemed to be every-time you’d look at him.

You wondered if he was staring at you in return, but hurriedly shook the idea as you remembered you worked behind the counter at a dingy convenience store; and these guys looked like big deals. ‘Selling doritos, snowballs and corn dogs wasn’t the most attractive thing to guys’ you thought as the men plopped down their items on your counter.

“Just these, man.” Jabari smiled before he continued to argue with the taller man about not piping his supposedly very attractive neighbor. You agreed with him, but kept silent as you scanned the slew of beer and midnight snacks.

“Jimmy would agree with me, he’d totally say hit it and leave it! Wouldn’t you, Jimmy?” The man announced, his sunglasses sliding down his nose, perfectly agreeing with his smug smirk.

“No! I actually would never, Ky, because I do not sleep around! I only do that once I’m settled down, which I’m not, but would like to be, you know this.” Jimmy, you knew him now as, said defensively, his head jerking to you in a gesturing manner, basically saying ‘don’t blow my cover.’

“Ohh, yeah, yeah, yeah. Very committed and very saintly; I know that about you.” Ky chuckled as he pushed his sunglasses up. “Go get your man!” He said in a hushed tone, earning an elbow to the ribs from Jimmy and grabbed a case of beer, telling Jabari to get the other, leaving Jimmy to get his bag of cheap snacks.

“I’ll be just a second, guys!” Jimmy waved his friends off as he leaned against your counter, earning a small giggle and smirk from you as you watched him begin to start his ‘‘smooth’’ flirting.

“Can I get you something?” You said after a moment of silence staring at eachother, you wouldn’t mind looking at him quietly for a few more seconds, but also wanted to talk to him and see where this went.

“Oh, you know what, I forgot to get smokes, that’s what I was missing! Can you grabbed me some camel filters, red?” He said in a shaky, nervous voice as he gave you a bashful smile.

You plucked the pack from above you, placing them infront of the both of you while a smug smile; waiting to see where he goes with this small interaction. Jimmy began to reach for his wallet, cutting his losses and sighing under his breath knowing it would be awkward to keep it going.

“On the house, you seem good for it.” You bit your cheek and leaned against the counter yourself, mirroring him and meeting him at eye level; somehow hes even more pretty this close.

Jimmy smiled and let out a breathy laugh as he looked to the side, seeing his two friends watching through the window and nodding profusely with thumbs up.

“Thank you, you don’t have to, but I’d never turn down free smokes.” Jimmy said in singy songy tone, pocketing the pack and moving slightly closer to you, staring at your lips.

“Big party tonight? What’s the celebration?” Your eyes trailing to his lips yourself, once again mirroring him, watching as he swallowed thickly at your advances. “Celebrating life, baby, always making it a party.” Jimmy said with a goofy laugh, he was sarcastic, but you knew he was the type of guy to bring the party wherever he went.

“Would love to have you join us, if you wanted to?” Jimmy swallowed thickly, looking up at you with knitted eyebrows, he was shooting his shot and looking absolutely stunning while doing it, you couldn’t turn him down if your life depended on it, but you knew you couldn’t just drop your shift for a party.

“My boss would have my ass.. any chance you’re free tomorrow afternoon? I still wanna see you.” You admitted with a soft smile, seeing Jimmy’s eyes go from pitifully sad from the start of your sentence, to being wide with joy at the end.

“Lunch? There’s this burger joint down the block, I could meet you there, or pick you up. Anything you want.” Jimmy smiled and balanced on his tippy toes with a few taps on your counter, unable to hide his excitement.

You wrote your phone number down on his receipt, along with your address with a smiley face, smirking as you slide it over to him. Jimmy launched for it and grabbed it hastily, smiling widely and began to make his way out of the store.

“Hey, what’s your name?” He said, looking back as he reached for the door handle, embarrassed for being so caught up in your looks before even asking you a basic question.

“Y/N. See you at lunch, party animal.” You giggled as you waved goodbye to him, going back on your phone, updating your friends about the cute guy asking you out.

“Later, pretty boy!” Jimmy yelled out with his arms raised, while laughing as your heard Ky and Jabari praise him for his flirting game.

The three men walked away as they slapped Jimmys back, pushed into him and cheered for him.

“Got a fucking address, number and a date, boys! We’re so fuckin in!” Jimmy screamed out into the night sky, overjoyed and slapping the receipt with a dopey smile.

[king-crawler]

Recently when I tried to figure out why Turbo went, well Turbo I realized something. At first I came to the conclusion that it was because of his code, but then I remembered the plot of the movie and completely scrapped it (though there might still be some merit with it). Then i thought that “hey, this fucker has been surrounded by picters of himself since he was plugged in, hes the star of the show, so of course he would get a huge ego out of it, said ego also being his subsequent down fall, but why diden't Felix also fall in the same trap? he was the hero of his game too”. And I think it's because he wasn't alone. Now I'm not gonna overshadow the twins. They're there too but considering how Turbo treated them in the little screen time we got to see them together I doubt that they were on good terms, they might have been in the games early days but I digress.

Felix, unlike Turbo, had friends within his game, a small community to look out for him just as he does for them. They made him pies, dedicated parties to him, cherished him, but Turbo?. Who was gonna bake him pies? Who was gonna throw parties for him? Who was gonna cherish him? The Twins? FUCK no. And i think that's what tipped him over the edge, his ego made him push oway his friends and coworkers just to get a sliver of stardom. And when he had all the attention ripped oway from him by another racing game had to have been his last straw (you saw the face he pulled in the flashback. God, just imagine seeing one of your neighbors destroy their own career live, in broad daylight too, must have been horrifying). I love a good character that just dooms themselves to the narrative with their own actions (Turbo was a whore for the limelight).

Going a bit of topic here but “going Turbo” wouldn't work if it was any other main character in the movie, “going Ralph” just doesn't work. Could be because “Turbo” isn't really a name, it's a word, the name of his game, “Turbo Time”. So my proposal is that whenever there is an au where say, Calhoun game jumps (for whatever reason) they call it solo mission. “You're not going on a solo mission are you?” sounds more riveting, to me, and in character for Calhoun. Perhaps that was the last thing she said to her men before she left. For Vanellope id imagen something like “going on a sugar rush” and something about crashing. Because when the sugar rush ends you typically crash.

And that gave me another thought, how many “Turbos” are there out there? How many characters went outside their game or against their script on working hours. How many of these incidents were considered bugs or glitches (how many were turned into creepypastas). It feels like a huge liability risk and the only instances of us hearing about it is with Turbo, which I find strange. Is it like a silent rule? That no one is allowed to leave their game and that's it? That's a super thin line, like yeah you can argue that its there to keep them alive but who told them that? And the second movie doesn't help that, it's just, eurghhh, i don't like the second movieeeee… But it does give the homeless game characters a chance to find a potential new home. There's so much out there in the wilde wilde internet to explore and find new potential in, to not be tied to the arcade has to be a bit liberating for some :)

Sorry for the sudden rant, I just got a kick and could not not write this down.

DONT BE SORRY !! GO OFF!!!! THESE ARE REALLY COOL DISCUSSION POINTS

The whole turbo vs Felix thing really stuck out to me. Turbo Living in a game with only 2 other people who hate him ? While Felix gets praise and attention from dozens? No wonder Turbo went haywire 👀 like do you think he envied Felix ………

[makethatelevenrings]

Angel By the Wing - Thirteen

my thesis advisor watching me write for hours and none of it is my thesis

Chapter Warnings: canon death

Series Masterlist

“Sofia!”

The sound of your sneakers striking the linoleum tile seemed to echo through the halls, but you couldn’t be bothered to care. You had been doing some cleaning around your apartment when Sofia called you sobbing, saying something about Natasha and Bob in the hospital. You promised her that you would be there as soon as possible and raced out the door.

Jake met you at the gate and climbed into the passenger seat of your car, using his military ID to let you get past the gates once they scanned your vehicle. His face was drawn, brows pinched and lips pursed in thought.

Your hand settled in his and he squeezed once, assuring you that he was fine.

“Sof,” you called once you spotted the brunette. She stood from the chair she was hunched over in and opened her arms just in time for you to collide with her. Rooster stood from where he sat next to her and watched as the two of you embraced.

“She’s okay. They both are. Winded and sore, but she’s okay,” Sofia whispered. Tears poured down her cheek and you raised your hand to cradle the back of her head. “Oh god, she’s got these bruises on her chest that makes me want to throw up.”

“She’s okay,” you repeated. “Nat would look the Grim Reaper in the eye and tell that motherfucker that she has to get home to her wife.”

Sofia let out a wet laugh as she pulled away. You used the sleeves of your shirt to wipe her tears away and then tugged her to sit back down. Bradley motioned for you to take his seat and he went to join the other aviators crowding the waiting room.

“I’m sorry for calling you,�� she hiccuped through another sob. “I just needed…I needed someone who knew what it feels like. “Hey, no apologizing,” you chastised. You knew what she meant, though. Someone who wasn’t in the military, who wasn’t up in the air. Someone whose feet were firmly planted on the ground, one ear tuned for the phone in case they got bad news.

“And they’ve got this stupid fucking mission they’re being sent out on which is basically a suicide mission,” Sofia continued. “She nearly died in training and she’s the best so how the fuck is she going to live through the real thing?”

The assurances died in your throat as her words sunk in. This is why the aviators were here, you realized. You instinctively looked over to the group of pilots and found Rooster watching you carefully. How long had he known? Hangman?

Focus. Sofia needed you.

“They’re setting up a cot in her room for me because they’re keeping me for the night,” she said. You nodded along and wrapped an arm around her shoulders, pulling your friend into a hug.

“What can I do for you? Have you eaten recently?”

Sofia considered the question for a moment before sighing. “I haven’t eaten since this morning and now that you mention it, I could eat.”

Pulling away from her, you stood and winked. “I’ll run by the cafeteria and see if I can get you something edible.”

Like moths to a flame, Hangman and Rooster stepped away from the group and followed you as you made your way down the hall. You pointedly ignored the two men as you followed the directions a nurse gave you to the cafeteria.

“Sweetheart,” Bradley called as he jogged to catch up with you. “It was a bird strike, but Sofia said it herself, they’re both fine. It happens. Phoenix trains for this stuff for a reason.”

“It’s not that, Bradley Bradshaw,” you spat as you whirled around to face him. Your finger jabbed into his chest and you glared up at him. Jake joined him, concern painted on his features as he took in your anger.

“When were either of you going to tell me that you’re training for a suicide mission? Huh? Did you really think I wouldn’t care?”

Bradley’s face fell and raised his hands like you were some scared animal and he was calming you down. You shoved his hands away from you and kept walking down the hall. You couldn’t deal with this right now. You needed to get Sofia something to eat and you needed to call Penny and let her know that you might be a bit late and-

Your phone rang and, as if summoned, you spied your boss’s name on your screen. You pressed the answer button and raised your phone to your ear, ignoring the two men speaking to one another behind you.

“Hey Pen, I was just about to call you. I might be a bit late tonight, but I’ll only be an hour max.”

“Honey. Sarah just called me.” That tone. That damn tone. You froze, your heart sinking at the sound of her strained voice. Chairs lined the hallway and you shuffled over to one before sinking down onto the thin cushion.

“But I just saw him.” Your voice came out as a whimper, or maybe more of a whine. The white walls of the hospital blurred in on you, shrinking and compacting and collapsing until you were trapped.

“I’m so sorry,” Penny said. Admiral Kazansky had been her friend too. You pressed the palm of your hand against your eyes in hopes that it would stop the burning tears that threatened to push to the surface.

“I’m sorry too, Pen.”

“I’m not going to open tonight. Sarah’s going to need help planning the funeral. Will you be okay?”

“Yeah.” You looked up into the blinding lights above you. “Yeah, I’ll be fine. Hug Sarah for me, okay? And text if you need anything. I’m here with Sofia, but I’m sure she’ll understand.”

“Okay. Take care, hon.”

You let your phone fall into your lap and stared at the chipping screen protector. What came next? Everyone always talks about the lead up to death and they discuss the grief that comes after, but what about the in between? What do you do when the body is half-warm and not laid to rest?

A warm hand settled on your knee and you looked up to find blue eyes studying your face. Bradley stood behind Jake, his large form shielding the both of you from any onlookers.

“What’s goin’ on, darlin’?”

You considered speaking the words that scratched and clawed at your teeth and tongue, desperate to escape the cage you had forced them into. Looking into Jake’s eyes, you were violently reminded of your anger that existed before the call.

Here you were, seated in a hospital because your friend needed you after her wife had to eject from a plane and landed in the hospital, sitting before two men who consumed you yet would be setting out for a suicide mission in god knows how many days, and the only father figure you had in your life was now gone.

“Nothing,” you finally said. “Nothing’s wrong. I just needed a moment.”

You pulled away from Jake, physically and mentally. You locked it all down, packed your heart into a box, and stored it on the shelves of the iron-clad rationality of your mind. People needed you. They didn’t have time for you to be emotional.

Keep going, your mom would order. I don’t have time for tears.

Keep going, you scolded yourself. Others need you to be calm.

And then at the funeral, after you laid a small red checker piece on the surface of the coffin and watched as dirt sprinkled across the smooth mahogany, Sarah embraced you tightly and told you the words you had been waiting to hear your whole life.

“He loved you like a daughter and you gave him such peace. Thank you, sweetheart, for being in our lives. You’re stuck with us now.” A small, pain-filled smile flickered across her face and you kissed her cheek, as a daughter does to a mother. 

At what point, you asked yourself, does the grief swallow you whole?

Tag List: @mizzzpink​ @xoxabs88xox​ @dreaminglandsworld​ @khaylin27​ @loveforaugust​ @phoenixssugarbaby​ @atarmychick007​ @mak-32​ @itsmytimetoodream​ @krismdavis​ @emma8895eb​ @startrekfangirl​

[rindecision]

Sneak Peek!! You Know Where to Find Me - Live Aid '85

With AO3 down, have the first bit of the next installment to hold you over. I plan to release the first chapter of three on the 12th, so look out for it!

---

Eddie hung up the phone and hit his head off the wall.

“You okay, kid?” Wayne asked from the kitchen behind him. He got a loud complaint of a groan in response. “Guessin’ you got some bad news?”

Another, louder groan and a harder hit of his head followed. “Gareth cancelled on our trip.” Eddie spun around to face Wayne, keeping his head against the wall. “Apparently his family decided to do a last-minute trip.”

“Haven't you boys had this planned for a while?”

“Almost a month,” he grumbled, hitting the back of his head this time. “I swear, his mom's out to get me. They even paid for most of it themselves.”

“Got anyone to replace him?”

“All my other friends are out of town for the summer and Jeff is grounded for shooting a firework through their kitchen window. You wanna come?”

“I wish, but duty calls.” Wayne dried his hands from finishing the dishes.

“I can't just let the ticket go, and what about the boarding pass for the plane? Plus, I sure as hell don't want to go alone.” Eddie scruffed his hair and dramatically groaned.

“What about that Harrington boy?” Wayne suggested passively as he leaned against the kitchen counter. “You two seem pretty close all the sudden.”

“I-” Eddie croaked. Steve wasn't even on his list of people to invite. His breath hung in his throat as he considered it. Spending basically a whole weekend alone with Steve. He doubted he would go for it, he probably has some summer plans, but what if he said yes? When he finally started breathing again, it was at a faster pace. He couldn’t think of anyone else to invite, so it was worth a shot at least. “Maybe…” he sighed.

Wayne smiled with a cup of coffee in his hand at Eddie’s contemplative face. “What’s the harm in asking? The worst he can say is no.”

Eddie nodded without looking at him and picked up the receiver, pausing right before dialing. He didn’t know Steve’s number. He hung up the phone and started flipping through the phone book until he got to ‘H’. He skimmed it with his finger searching for ‘Harrington’ and blindly picked up the receiver again once he found it. He kept his finger under the number so he didn’t lose it as he keyed it in one digit at a time. His heart skipped when the other side picked up.

“Hello, Harrison residence.”

Eddie panicked and slammed the receiver back on the hook. He looked down at the phone book and he saw the number he got it confused with. After an annoyed sigh he picked the phone up again and tried, what he hoped, was the right number.

It rang longer than the last one. Long enough for Eddie’s thoughts to race. What if he’s not home? What if his parents answer? Does he have a maid? What if they answer instead? Should I just hang up if someone else answers? Would he even want them to hear my voice? They’d probably question him if some random guy was calling asking for him. Maybe this is a dumb id-

“Hello?”

Eddie dramatically sighed when he heard Steve’s voice. Apparently he hadn’t been breathing the whole time the phone was ringing.

“Eddie?” Steve inquired.

“How the fuck did you know it was me just from that?”

Wayne snorted his coffee and walked into the living room. He coughed the liquid out of his lungs, deciding he might not want to overhear this.

Steve chuckled. “I’ve heard that sound enough times to pick it out by now. What’s up?”

Eddie could feel his face flush at the comment and how casually Steve stated it. “I- um…” Eddie turned around so his back was on the wall beside the phone. The hand that wasn’t holding the receiver was holding his bicep nervously. “So, I have these tickets to a… concert thing.”

Steve couldn’t help but smile in amusement at how obviously nervous Eddie was. The tone in his voice made it crystal clear. He found it cute.

“And Gareth, my best friend, I doubt you know him, cancelled on me last minute due to some family bullshit and all my other friends are out of town or can’t go for their own stupid reasons, so I was wondering if… y’know. If you’d want to go with me. I already have the plane tickets. We’d have to leave tomorrow. It’s really short notice so I’ll totally get it if you can’t, but I thought that maybe…”

“Eddie,” Steve said calmly, not hiding the amusement in his voice at Eddie’s rambling. “Are you asking me on a date?”

“No!” Eddie snapped back far quicker than he intended, feeling his face warm up even further. “That’s not what we are, right? So… no…” his voice got softer, almost to a mumble. “I’m not asking you on a… date…” The last word was barely intelligible.

“So does that make me your last resort?” Steve almost felt bad for teasing the clearly flustered Eddie, but he just couldn’t help himself. He could only imagine the look on his face.

Eddie didn’t know what to say and managed a squeak.

“I’m just fucking with you, Eddie,” Steve laughed. “Sure, I’ve got nothing else to do this weekend. Plus, I wouldn’t mind another taste of what you gave me last time.”

Eddie was certain his face couldn’t get redder, but Steve proved him wrong. He slid down the wall, covering his mouth and gripping the receiver as if his life depended on it. “Yeah, okay,” he squeaked out of the corner of his hand.

“So, what’s the plan then?” Steve chuckled.

Eddie took a deep calming breath before continuing. “Your car is probably better on gas than my tank, so if you’re cool with driving…” Eddie explained the details and together they decided on a plan before hanging up. Eddie held the beeping receiver to his chest, staring blankly into the kitchen in front of him. A smile gradually grew on his face, eventually taking it over with excited joy. He quietly let a thin whistle of a squeal from his throat as he wiggled his body happily. He said yes!

“You really like this boy, don’t you?” Wayne called in amusement from the living room.

Eddie’s excitement hitched in his throat. He forgot Wayne was there. “Uh…”

Wayne laughed and shook his head. “It’s nice to see you happy, Eddie.”

The bright smile on Eddie’s face returned and he looked at the receiver in his hands. Yeah, I like him. Maybe a little too much.

[abrahamvanhelsings]

CURRY. hi, it's me again just realized i should also have asked for metternich/rossini (i am 100% serious)

going to give you a 100% serious answer. do i think they fucked? not historically but do i think in another world they might have? by god. yes. i am not exaggerating when i say that metternich was genuinely one of rossini's biggest fans, and that's saying something bc rossini had half of europe eating from the palm of his hand at the height of his popularity. i haven't read much on their interactions, and i think there's nothing on their... situationship specifically. they're briefly mentioned in various literature, and im not sure where the primary sources concerning their relationship (like letters) can be found. it's kind of hard to get a good grip on what they were to each other, bc one author will simply say that rossini was metternich's favourite composer and then another will say they were friends. however i read an article on metternich's use of music in diplomatic settings recently, Damien Mahiet, 'The Musical Diplomacy of Metternich', Diplomatica 3:2 (2018), and that really got me thinking abt how they could've been something. in my mind. for real. going to add some screenshots here:

It's clear from this article at least that they interacted on a level that, to me, goes beyond 'guy who hired another guy', but that they really talked about music together. also, not unimportant to mention that metternich played the violin as an amateur himself, so he really did know what he was about! this is what i mean when i say they interacted on a more casual level:

extremely funny to me that rossini would complain abt this to metternich, like the gossip... these two were hitting it off. what's also really important to me is how metternich wrote abt rossini to dorothea lieven (the wife of the russian ambassador in london who he had a situationship with, also btw a very interesting woman bc politically she was arguably a more influential figure than her husband the ambassador):

"a very nice chap"

"he consistently touches a sensitive string in my heart" :')

metternich going 'fuck beethoven his vibes are miserable and his music repetitive. rossini is everything to me btw' has me on the floor lmfao?

"a lifelong passion for the work of rossini in particular"

rossini saying that metternich really understood music >> they were talking deep into the night i know it

in a wild turn of events metternich hated court life and the public, societal nature associated with politics and diplomacy. he really much preferred to be at home with his wife and children (and to have long conversations through letters with his mistresses, which is a whole other interesting aspect of his life, but before anyone starts making assumptions, i must state he was also happily married to his wives - id have to make a whole post abt early 19th century upper class relationship conventions and metternich's specific ideas on love to dive into this). but ?? to say abt listening to music, and apparently rossini's music in particular in such public settings, "i live in a moment when the rays of the sun enter the darkness of my jail" ?????

also there's these other bits that show metternich was SUCH a fan like he really did everything to get rossini to perform at places. and partly this was bc of his diplomatic efforts through music, of course, but that he chose rossini in particular is bc he thought he was the god of harmony and thee best person for the job. and i like to imagine he also wanted to talk to his bestie in person:

and ROSSINI STILL WROTE TO METTERNICH IN 1858 talking abt "the brilliant days" and their friendship from almost 40 years ago. brother.

so there's this for the historical aspect of their relationship. now it's of course also very interesting to me that metternich was considered to be very attractive by standards of the time, plus he was abt 20 years rossini's senior which :) i love me an age gap (and so did metternich's third wife as ive shown you lol). lot of ways to do something very interesting with this whole dynamic. plus i think there's plenty of room for angst if we consider metternich's conservative policies against rossini's politics which are always kind of... ambiguous, but there's a lot to say abt the opera's he created and what did and did not shine through in those. also the fact that despite whatever political differences they had it clearly did not prevent them from being friends bc of the power of music <3