#which book should I have her sign?

[things-methinks]

Talking to [leftist/socialist/progressive/whatever] white people as a brown girl is always an experience

[coquelicoq]

things i learned today:

my stepdad doesn't like the word obituary. why? well i can't be 100% certain because i asked no follow-up questions, but based on the way he relayed this information ("i don't like to use the word [lowers voice] oBITCHuary") i have a pretty good idea.

"we have to google meet" (as in, call each other on the Google Meet app) and "we have to google 'meat'" sound identical and i will interpret it as the latter regardless of how little sense that makes in context.

some drinking glasses have a little divot at the top of the handle into which my thumb fits perfectly!!!!!!!!

apparently when you find yourself at a branch of the library that's closing in three days for renovations, you should go ahead and check out all 11 books you have an eye on, because the computer will give you a due date SEVEN MONTHS INTO THE FUTURE. even though you could return the books at any other branch! jackpot.

[the-physicality]

this expansion draft and roster planning for next season.. how are these gms doing it?

firstly the cap is ridiculously low [1.5 million? for 11-12 players?] next, expansion draft rules aren't even out yet. there are thoughts going around that they could be able to select one uncored unrestricted free agent? which seems so contrary to what unrestricted free agency is? how many people can each team core?

then there's the question of who will declare [which is a little more set but a handful of players have potential redshirts from injury] and i'm not super informed on player evaluations. which will determine the likelihood of us signing a rookie from the jump

and then there's the mercury question: are they going to try for the same strategy [4 guard]? are they going to try to get a real 4 for the whole season/in the consistent starting line up? who will they core? what is the free agent situation? will they pull a seattle reign and not core someone bc they'd rather walk than play for another team and everybody knows it?

so many questions and cathy could help me answer like a third of them but here we are instead....

[sizzlingsandwichperfection-blog]

Arw you really the author John Green? The same person who wrote The Fault in Our Stars and Looking for Alaska?

Yes, but I published one of those books 19 (?!?!?!) years ago and the other 12 (!?!?!?!?) years ago. What have I been up to since then?

My brother Hank and I started Good.store, which delivers high-quality socks, coffee, and soap to your home and donates 100% of its profit to charity. Through good store, we've raised over $7,500,000 to support efforts to radically reduce maternal mortality in Sierra Leone, where as recently as 2019, one in seventeen women could expect to die in pregnancy or childbirth.

(In fact, technically I am here on tumblr as an unpaid intern for the awesome coffee club, which you should really sign up for if you like ethically sourced coffee that tastes delicious and doesn't enrich billionaires.)

I wrote the novel Turtles All the Way Down and then had a little existential crisis and wrote a nonfiction book called The Anthropocene Reviewed, the latter of which is my first book for adults and my first attempt to write as myself.

I helped produce made a movie adaptation (streaming now on Max!) of Turtles all the Way Down.

I helped raise my kids and supported my spouse as she wrote her book You Are An Artist and created a PBS show about art called The Art Assignment.

I ran the educational media company Complexly and the merch company dftba.com while my brother had cancer.

I bought around 2% of a fourth-tier English football team called AFC Wimbledon. Wimbledon are different from most football clubs because they are owned by their fans, each of whom gets one vote in the club's leadership regardless of how much money they put into the club.

I became obsessed with tuberculosis, the world's deadliest infectious disease (it will kill over a million people this year despite being curable), and how TB both exemplifies and reinforces human-built structures of injustice, which is the subject of a book I'm writing that will come out next year.

[obsessedwithceleste]

All’s Fair in Love and Quidditch

Theodore Nott x Ravenclaw Reader

Summary: All’s fair in love and quidditch. At least until Matteo’s poorly aimed bludger knocks you off of your broom.

word count: 3.7k

©️ obsessedwithceleste. all works posted here belong to me and should not be reposted or copied in any way or form.

“Get your wand. Out of my face.” You growl between clenched teeth, glaring up at the tall boy in front of you whose wand was dangerously close to the tip of your nose.

Theodore Nott. You’d first met the boy in third year on the quidditch pitch after his team had beat yours. It had been a long and grueling match and the only reason they’d won is because of that bloody snitch. Ravenclaw had been up in points the entire match. You remember the boy smirking at you as you lowered your broom to the ground.

“Better luck next time principessa.” He’d said.

You’d taken that personally, and the very next week, you’d stolen the position of top of the class in potions from him. This had apparently acted as a declaration of war as the two of you began constantly finding ways to outdo one another.

You seethed with hatred for the boy. Constantly challenging you in classes, on the pitch, even at prefects meetings. You two simply could not see eye to eye; which he constantly reminded you was likely because he was well over half a foot taller than you. Bloody bastard. It didn’t help that the boy was aggravatingly handsome. A detail you couldn’t help but appreciate as he loomed above you. Still, you glare on.

Despite the immediate threat of peril, you remained surprisingly calm knowing that, while you and Theodore may be intense rivals, he’d never actually harm you. At least you hoped. You’d seen his knuckles bloodied plenty of times before, but he’d never harmed so much as a hair on your head. Yet.

Theo’s words shake you back into the present.

“Then get off the bloody pitch. Like we said, we have the pitch booked until 7.”

“No, we booked it starting at 6. We have a signed slip from Flitwick,” You retort.

You watch Theodore’s eyes flick over to the piece of paper Cho was now brandishing smugly before whipping around to his teammates behind him.

“What the hell Malfoy. You were supposed to have Snape reserve the field!” He shouts.

You roll your eyes at the bickering boys. This is one of the many reasons you disliked the male population of Slytherin house. Wildly disorganized, yet still expecting to have everything handed to them.

“I did! They must’ve bloody double booked it!” Draco replies, glaring at the paper.

“Well then it looks like either you all leave, or we’re sharing,” you say decidedly, much to the grumbling of your teammates.

Theo scowls at you. “We gathered as much thanks- we’re not idiots.”

You give the boy a sugary sweet smile. “You’re doing an awfully good impression of it then.” You reply, hoping that if you annoyed him enough, he’d leave already.

You watch the boy’s jaw and fists clench tightly as his scowl deepens before he turns and stalks off.

“C’mon. I’m not dealing with that bloody witch today.” He snaps at his teammates who follow hesitantly, but not before shooting some nasty looks over their shoulders.

Once they’re out of earshot, you hear your teammates burst into laughter.

“That was bloody brilliant!” One of your beaters calls out, leaning on his broom as he shakes with laughter.

“Oh y/n, he so likes you,” Cho snickers as she pushes past you onto the field.

Your jaw drops open at that and you rush after the girl.

“Excuse you, you can’t just walk off after dropping something so wildly ridiculous on me like that,” you protest, mirroring your friend as she hops on her broom and takes off into the air.

“Oh please. I could cut the sexual tension between you two with a well placed diffindo charm. And he’d never give in to anyone else that easily. Now heads up or your head will be taken off by that bludger,” she responds easily, dodging out of the path of the ball hurtling towards you.

You quickly follow, barely managing to side sweep the bludger before turning back to your friend. Before you’re able to further probe her however, she’s taken off in search of the elusive snitch.

You try to shake off her words as you continue to fly through practice, joining your fellow chasers as they go head to head with your keeper, trying to make a shot through one of the hoops.

“Nice shot, y/n! Better keep that aim up for the game this weekend. I wanna beat those snakes so bad,” the keeper shouts as you make throw past him.

“Not a chance in hell those slithering bastards are taking the cup again,” you reply with a grin.

“Excited to see your little witch today?” Matteo asks, plopping himself into his seat next to Theo.

Theo glares at his curly haired friend, snapping his textbook closed with a grunt.

“She’s not my witch Mattheo. I can’t stand her,” Theo mumbles back.

“Right, right. It’s just y/n this, y/n that. Did you see y/n helping Cormac with charms the other day? He’s such a bloody wanker. Blah, blah, blah.” Enzo says, joining the two boys at the desk next to them.

Theo scowls at his so called friends. So what if he happened to notice you a bit too often? They knew full well that the two of you had a sort of rivalry going on and that he had to keep tabs on you to make sure you didn’t sneak something by him. Constant vigilance and what not.

Before he could defend himself however, you burst through the doors of the potions classroom with a group of your fellow Ravenclaws, coming to take your spot at the desk directly in front of him.

“Hey, thanks for giving us the pitch last night Theodore. Stomping off the field like that, was really such a testament to you being the bigger person.” You say, turning to give the boy an innocent smile as you slide into your seat.

“What can I say, I just know your team will need all the help they can get to try and beat us tomorrow,” Theo replied easily, eyes falling as he notices the hem of your skirt ride up a bit higher than normal as you sit down.

“Aw, that’s so considerate coming from someone whose shooting percentage is barely over 50%.”

Theo’s eyes snap up at this.

You hear Enzo snicker at that before he quickly attempts to cover it up with a loud cough.

“Yeah? It’s so interesting that you know my stats off the top of your head.” Theo retorts.

“They really help build my ego when I feel like I’m playing poorly.”

“So always?”

You glare at the boy, but before you’re able to respond, the professor clears their throat, forcing you to turn in your seat.

As the professor begins droning on about whatever potion it was that you were to be making that day, Theo’s eyes couldn’t help but wander to the pretty witch in front of him. For such a pain in his side, you sure were easy on the eyes. Before he knows it, he feels Mattheo’s elbow digging into his rib cage.

“C’mon lover boy, neither of us are going to pass if you don’t start focusing less on y/n and more on this potion, cause I was not paying attention.” Mattheo grunts, pulling him off his seat and over to the stock of potion ingredients along the back wall.

“I wasn’t even looking at her,” Theo protests, glaring at his friend as he begins pulling ingredients haphazardly off the shelves.

“Right. Because if you were, you’d have noticed that the white ribbon in her hair was crooked. Bothered me the entire time we were sitting there.” Mattheo replies, leaning lazily against the counter.

Theo shoots a nasty look at his friend realizing his eyes had once again wandered over to the witch in question.

“The ribbon in her hair is navy blue you dolt. And it’s not crooked.”

Mattheo gives him a victorious smirk.

“Too true. So glad we cleared up the fact that you were only staring enough to remember the exact color of her hair ribbon and whether or not it was crooked.”

With another smug look over his shoulder, Mattheo saunters back over to their shared desk, leaving Theo to finish collecting ingredients in agitated silence.

Glancing back down at his list, Theo quickly collected the rest of their ingredients, tossing the anjelica, bitter root, and daisy root essence into his basket, careful to not steal any more obvious glances at you.

As he went to return to his seat, the soft petals of the flower assortments sitting neatly in their assigned jars once again caught Theo’s eyes and a small smile grew as a masterful plan began to form.

“That BLOODY, FUCKING SNAKE!” you shriek as you open your quidditch locker to find a stunning bouquet of bright daises and velvet roses propped up against your broom.

Hearing the commotion, Cho rushes over to find you glaring menacingly at the offending flowers, a look of exasperation overtaking her face.

“For Rowena’s sake, not flowers. How dare he. The nerve,” she says dryly.

“Aww. How romantic. That’s so sweet. Are they from Theodore?” One of the other chasers adds, coming to see what all the noise was about.

Your glare shifts to your teammates as they peak into your locker to get a glimpse of the flowers.

“I’m allergic.” You grit out. As if to emphasize your point, you let out a loud sneeze, feeling the pollen reach your nose.

Your teammates’ faces fall slightly at your statement and you go to extract the flowers from your locker.

“Well- I suppose there’s something to be said about the fact that he knows exactly which flowers you’re allergic to, and how he went out of his way to buy them for you?” Cho offers as you toss the flowers onto the bench behind you.

A note flutters to the floor.

“Yes. It can be said that he’s a psychotic wanker with too much free time,” you say, bending down to snatch the note off the ground.

Good luck Principessa, hope you play similarly to how the flowers make you feel xxTheodore

“He literally tried to kill me so I wouldn’t be able to play,” you announce dramatically, thrusting the note card towards Cho who rolls her eyes as she shakes her head at you.

“Alright, we need to focus. Y/n, get rid of those flowers, we don’t need you sniffling all match. Everyone on the pitch in 15!” Cho yells, pulling the team together.

Shaking the thoughts of that damn Slytherin from your mind, you unceremoniously dump the large bouquet into the trash before quickly changing into your robes.

“Everyone remember the new offensive formations? We need to take them by surprise. They’ve gotten way too comfortable running the same defense against every team. Remember. If you can’t see Mattheo or Blaise, they’ve flanked you and there’s already a bludger aimed at the back of your head. Theo and Enzo stick together, third chaser is on their own. Flint is a lefty, if you can, always go for the right hoop. Prioritize y/n, when going for the goal posts unless you think they’ve picked up on it. Don’t worry about me and Draco, focus on gaining a lead. Everyone clear?”

You blink once, soaking in Cho’s words.

“Alright. Let’s get out there and stomp on some snakes.”

Your teammates let out loud whoops as you make your way out to the field, adrenaline beginning to course through your body. The breeze blows gently through your hair and the sun shines softly behind a thin layer of clouds. The perfect day for quidditch.

As you grow closer to the pitch, you can hear the loud cheers and hollers coming from the stands, the faces of your fellow Ravenclaws grinning down at you.

“Coin toss is on you, y/n. Try not to let him rile you up too much, yeah?” Cho says, mounting her broom with the rest of the team.

You nod as they take off and make your way down to the center of the pitch where Hooch is already waiting.

“Ah, y/n! Beautiful day for a match yeah?” She greets as you approach.

You offer a tight smile and nod as you see Theodore approach, cocky smile in place.

“Alright, you two know the drill. Snitch or broomsticks, Ravenclaw, your call, on three,” Hooch says, holding a large gold coin out on her palm.

You feel Theodore’s eyes on you as Hooch tosses the coin into the air.

“Broomsticks.”

The three of you watch as the coin hits the ground, three gleaming broomsticks shining in the sunlight.

Theo’s lips tighten, but he doesn’t say anything.

“We’ll take the ball first then,” you say with a tight lipped smile.

“Very well, go on then, shake hands.”

Swallowing your displeasure, you tentatively extend your hand.

With a lop sided grin, Theo grasps your hand.

“Like your flowers Principessa?”

“They were lovely. Really spruced up the trash can.”

Without another word, the two of you returned to your respective sides of the field, joining your teams in the air.

“We got ball,” you shout, once you’re within earshot of your teammates. The boys let out a whoop of excitement.

“Let’s make this a nice, clean match today, yeah?” Hooch shouts from her place on the field. Without waiting for a response, she points her wand at the chest, waiting below and the lid flies open, releasing the balls within.

Your eyes immediately lock onto the quaffle as it makes its way into the air, diving down and snatching it, a chaser on either side of you. You slip easily into your rhythm of dodging and weaving around your opponents, passing the quaffle around as you make your way to the opposing goal posts.

As the ball is being passed back to you however, Enzo pushes past, intercepting. Cursing under your breath, you whip around, close on his tail.

As if seeing your need, a bludger whizzes straight at Enzo, forcing him to drop the ball into your waiting arms.

This time, you’re able to make it to the opposite side, but with Theo and Enzo close on your tail, you’re forced to surrender the ball to your teammate who narrowly misses.

“Next time!” You shout in encouragement.

This back and forth goes on for what seems like ages, with neither team managing to score a point.

Finally, the ball is back in your arms as you speed towards Flint.

“Don’t choke now, Principessa,” you hear Theodore shout from beside you on the right.

“Please. Save your breath. You’ll probably need it to blow up your next play,” you retort.

“You know your ass is probably jealous of all the shit that comes out of your mouth.” Theo snaps.

“Yeah? You’d love to see my jealous ass wouldn’t you?”

Theo jolts in shock, and that moment is all you need to take a dive to the right, securing the first goal of the match.

It all falls into place after that and soon enough, your team is up 80 points. A comfortable lead, but not enough.

“C’mon guys! C’mon! Keep it up, this one’s ours!” You hear your keeper shout as they toss the quaffle to you.

You nearly fumble the catch as a bludger soars past your broom.

“Stay on her and keep those damn bludgers away!” You vaguely hear Cho call out to one of your beaters as you again make your way to the opposite end of the field.

After scoring two more goals, the Slytherin team finally gets the idea to begin putting more pressure and focus on you, with at least one chaser always guarding you.

“For Rowena’s sake, I don’t even have room to breathe!” you shout as you pass Cho briefly.

As the match continues with no end in sight, Mattheo and Blaise begin to grow bolder, narrowly missing a few heads. Their own teammates’ included.

“Watch it you bloody wanker!” You hear Enzo call out after Blaise nearly takes out the end of his broom.

With a sharp turn, you’re able to break away from his steady pursuit just long enough to safely secure the quaffle once more.

“Dammit Enz,” Theo grunts as he flies up beside you.

You ignore their bickering, eyes taking in the field and your surroundings. You spot your other two chasers gliding below you, gearing up to be positioned for a clear pass. Your beaters are no where in sight, and only Rowena knew where Cho was flying off to.

You make several attempts to lose the two green robed Slytherins on either side of you, but they remain stuck to your side.

Suddenly, you see Enzo’s broom dip. Thinking this is your chance, you turn quickly, trying to see if you have a clear pass to one of your teammates.

“Y/n!” Theo shouts.

But it’s too late.

The last thing you remember is the feeling of falling and strong arms wrapping around you before everything goes black.

When your eyes finally flutter open, the first thing you notice is the sky and how dark it is. What time was it? Slowly, you begin to sit up, a distinct pounding in the back of your head causing you to wince slightly. Looking about, you realize you were in the hospital wing and still in your quidditch robes. Ew.

The next thing you notice, is the mop of soft brown hair lying face down on the hospital bed beside you. As your eyes follow the body down to the chair it’s slumped on, you take in the familiar green robes that distinguish the boy as a Slytherin.

The hairs on your neck prickle as you recognize the boy. How could you not?

“Theodore,” you whisper, giving the boy a poke.

No sign of life.

“Theodore,” you say, a bit louder this time, shaking him gently.

“Shove off Matt. You and Toria can find another place to shag for the night,” he grumbles, shifting further into the coarse hospital bed blanket.

You let out a snort.

“Seriously Theodore, wake up,” you say, growing frustrated.

Finally the boy sits up groggily before appearing to remember where he was.

“Oh. Mornin principessa,” he drawls, smiling lazily at you, rubbing the sleep from his eyes.

“What happened? And why on earth are you here of all people?” You ask, ignoring the pet name that you seemingly couldn’t shake as a yawn escapes you.

“That’s really no way to treat your knight in shining armor.” Theo tsks, stretching his arms out and leaning back in his chair. “I’m the one who caught you after Matt knocked you off your broom after all. Bludger to the head is no joke.”

You grimace. No wonder your head was throbbing.

“What a fucking git,” you grumble, falling back onto the bed.

Theo shrugs, not seeming to disagree.

Stupid Mattheo and his stupid bloody aim. Utter shit. And of course it had to be bloody Theodore of all people who saved you. Though you weren’t entirely sure you minded, closing your eyes briefly, an image of Theo in his quidditch uniform flashing through your mind.

“You never answered the second question.” You say after a moment of silence.

Theo looks at you, his head cocked to the side.

“Why are you here?”

“You’re hurt,” he says simply, as if it made all the sense in the world.

Your frown doesn’t quite reach the tips of your mouth as you look over at the brunette boy staring back at you.

No matter how many times you told yourself that you utterly detested the boy, you were never quite able to say it with your full chest. And for Rowena’s sake, it was not fair for someone to look this good at this time of night, in sweaty quidditch robes.

“You don’t like me.” You say quietly, not quite sure how true that statement truly was as the boy’s eyes had yet to stray away from you.

“Oh I can’t stand you.” Theodore replies, suddenly much closer than you remember.

“You’re the absolute worst person on earth,” you say, feeling yourself magnetize towards the boy beside you.

“I despise you with every bone in my being,” he responds before slowly, tentatively closing the gap.

His lips are fire against yours, not burning, but consuming. You feel yourself getting lost in the sensation of his lips moving hungrily against yours as his arm snakes around your waist, pulling you in closer. You would definitely be blaming this lapse in judgement on the fact that you’d taken a bludger to the head earlier. Or maybe not, you think hazily as a soft moan escapes your lips.

“Easy there principessa,” Theo murmurs, pulling away and pressing a kiss to your temple. “Let’s not hurt that pretty little head of yours.”

With a silent nod, you lean back, mind still reeling a bit given the night’s events.

Hesitantly, as if not wanting to spook you, Theo edges his way onto the bed beside you. Realizing his intent, you scoot over a bit, allowing yourself to be tucked carefully into his arms.

“If it makes you feel any better about being knocked out, Ravenclaw did end up winning. And your team visited after the match was over.” Theo says as you rest your head on his chest.

You smile at that.

“Good. Slytherin is shit.” You reply.

“You take that back.”

“Make me.”

Theo’s lips find yours once more, and you feel him grin against your lips.

“I’m still mad about those flowers you sent by the way,” you say once he pulls away.

A smirk overtakes Theo’s face as he looks down at you.

“I’m sorry principessa.”

“No you aren’t,” you scoff, rolling your eyes.

“No I’m not. That was one of my better bits I’d say.”

“It was pretty good.”

Another yawn escapes your lips, and it doesn’t go unnoticed by the boy holding you in his arms.

“Sleep now, principessa,” he says, fingers stroking gently through your hair.

You didn’t have to be told twice.

Not a single person was surprised when the Slytherin and Ravenclaw quidditch teams walked into the infirmary the next morning to find the two of you wrapped in each other’s embrace.

“Bloody took them long enough,” Mattheo says, finally breaking the silence.

Cho can’t help but nod in agreement.

The rivals to lovers quidditch fic that no one asked for, but I wrote anyways 🤗

[writingouthere]

neighbor!sukuna x singlemom!reader. Sukuna picks up your daughter from school, he makes quite the impression and we learn more about his background.

cw: None really here except I guess this is low key becoming a slow burn, idk.

You were stuck at work and didn't have anyone else who could go get your daughter so you had asked Sukuna. The tattoo shop was usually slow in the evening this far into winter anyway, and he couldn't imagine saying no to you even if he'd been fully booked.

It felt strange to be going outside when it was still light out but Sukuna took in the sights as other people walked around, other parents clearly in the process of picking up their children from school.

Not that Bug was his kid, at least not as far you knew. Yet.

Sukuna didn't do things halfway, just wasn't in his nature. He knew he was moving fast, he had put up with his little brother Yuji's nervous protests at dinner the week before when he had explained his new living situation, but he wasn't going to slow things down when they were going so well.

For a long time, it had just been him and Yuji. There had been other relatives, like Yuji's grandfather and his freak of a mother, but the two had mostly bounced around foster homes and made due until Sukuna was old enough to take care of them both. Yuji was graduating college in the spring and Sukuna had been alone since he left for the dorms and now he had an apartment with some friends from school. Sukuna was proud of his brother, he was one of the only people he really gave a fuck about. Their lives had been hard and that had made Sukuna even harder. Yuji had never been like that, he had come through even kinder than the average person and Sukuna could admire the strength that showed in it's own way.

The point was, Sukuna had paid his dues. He had done right by his brother even when the world had done them so wrong and now he was ready for his reward. You and the little girl he was about to go get.

The daycare was inside of a little beige building, decorated with those tacky outlines of children playing and some fucking mural with birds that always seemed to cover the walls of places like this. Parents, mostly moms, walked out with their children in tow, asking about their days and zipping up coats. Sukuna noticed the double takes as they took him in, the way the adults seemed to pull their little ones closer. That was fine by him, he didn't want any of these fucking rugrats near him except his own.

"Ryomen Sukuna, mom should have added me to the pick-up list," he told your daughter's teacher, showing her his ID. She didn't react to his tattoos or general aura with anything but a smile and he supposed that childcare workers must be aware more than most that they really do let anyone be a parent.

"Of course, I'll go get her while you sign here," she said handing over a clipboard with the names of all the kids in the center along with blue pen with a fuzzy pompom attached to it. While he was signing his name he heard a familiar squeal and looked to see your daughter running towards him as fast as her little legs could carry her.

"Sukuna!"

She tripped on some particularly tricky air and Sukuna moved forward to pick her up before she could face plant on the hard tile.

"Careful there bug, told mom I'd bring you home in one piece."

She ignored him and started babbling nonsense about her day that Sukuna could only really catch half of, but he nodded and hmmed as he finished signing her out and with a quick nod to the amused staff member, he headed out.

He shifted her on his hip so he could finish zipping up her coat. What was it with kids and their refusal to just zip up their damn coats? He remembered Yuji had been the same.

Bug continued to regale him with tales of her day until she eventually squirmed on his hip, the universal signal for "put me down until I get tired and whine for you to pick me up again" and Sukuna put her down on the sidewalk but took her backpack which he slung across his shoulder and then grabbed her hand with his. He could see people take second looks at the two of them and he supposed they cut quite the picture. The tall scary guy with tattoos carrying a pink princess backpack and the little girl pulling him down the sidewalk.

"We in a rush or something?"

Your daughter laughed and said something about being hungry for dinner with mommy which he could get behind. You both had only been living with him for a week but you already had a bit of a routine. He made breakfast in the morning while you got the kid ready but you always made dinner that was ready when he got home. It was nice, domestic. It felt like what he imagined life was like for people who had normal families when he had been a young kid. Holding a crying, hungry baby Yuji on his lap while they ate whatever he could scrounge up in whatever shithole they were in that week.

He remembered when Yuji had been the same age as your daughter and the idea of her ever living in the places they had, or going through the things they had made him pull her a little closer.

He wasn't going to lie to himself and say he was a good man or that he wanted you, the both of you, for some pure love nonsense but he knew he wanted you all the same. He had done terrible things and he would do them all over again if it led to this moment where he watched as your daughter cooed over the neighbor's dog. Said neighbor looking at him in confusion and fear as he told your daughter they needed to leave the fleabag alone and go home.

Later, when Sukuna was working on dinner and your daughter was sitting on the counter, "helping", he heard the sound of a key in the lock.

"I'm home," you called out and Sukuna called out that they were in the kitchen.

"Hey, thank you so much for getting her. I just wasn't going to make it in time," you said, picking up your daughter.

"No worries, we weren't busy at the shop today anyway." You hummed and smiled at him.

"Still."

"You can go ahead and change," he told you and you looked ready to protest when he went to grab your daughter from you but then Bug went willingly and he saw how you melted at the two of them. Good.

"Okay, but when I get back I'm taking over dinner."

Sukuna agreed and he watched as you walked away, admiring the way your clothes hugged your frame. He was glad the only witness to his hunger was a toddler who was more interested in poking his cheek than observing social cues.

The rest of the evening passed peacefully and Sukuna felt what he could only describe as content. When your daughter started to nod off on your shoulder, you got up from the couch to take her to bed, telling Sukuna he should stay and that you got it. With your daughter on one hip, you used your free hand to press against his shoulder and lean down to where he was still on the couch. He closed his eyes at the feeling of your lips pressing gently against his cheek and then with a quick goodnight, the two of you were in your room, the door closing with a quick 'click'.

The gesture had been so innocent and Sukuna would have mocked anyone he knew who got so flustered over a gesture as meaningless as a kiss on the cheek.

But how could any gesture be meaningless when it came from you?

[propertyofwicked]

SCANDALOUS - OP

summary - in which oscar discovers what type of books his girlfriend is actually reading

warnings: 18+ allusions to smut, but mostly fluff

this is my first oscar piece and i am considering a part 2! lemme know what you think! <3 (also sorry for disappearing my life has been all over the place)

masterlist the playlist

as they arrived at the silverstone track, oscar and y/n could feel the palpable anticipation in the air. navigating through the crowds was something y/n could only compare to her idea of personal hell. people everywhere, sporting the bright colours of different teams, people approaching the two of them, holding out hats and phones for oscar to sign. if this was friday, y/n hated to think what the rest of the weekend would be like - hopefully she could arrive later than oscar and avoid the hustle and bustle.

"are you going to be okay here?" oscar asked softly, concern evident in his eyes, as he led the two of them into mclaren hospitality. he wasn’t blind, if anything he could read her emotions better than he could read his own - he knew she was overwhelmed, but not quite at breaking point.

"yeah, i've got my book and headphones,” y/n replied, patting her bag quickly, “i'll find a quiet spot,” she added with a nod, giving him a reassuring smile.

“i’ll see you in a bit, yeah?” he asked her again, holding her wrists softly in his hands.

“i’ll be here,” she replied, still smiling as she stepped up onto her tiptoes to press a quick kiss to his lips.

y/n watched as oscar left, before turning on her heel and trying to find a cosy corner, tucked away from the commotion where she could read her book in peace. and as she sat with her back to the wall, she couldn’t help but feel grateful that no one could walk behind her and glimpse at what she was reading. her flushed cheeks may slightly give it away to anyone who recognised the book, but as she flipped through the pages she was met with nothing but pure, indulgent smut. it was a guilty pleasure that she seldom admitted to enjoying, and whilst she was more than content with oscar, she was too shy to admit she’d want him to do more than half of the acts she reads about.

maybe next time, she should bring a murder mystery book with her, instead of reading 82 pages of unforgiving sex scenes that are described in such detail that she could almost imagine how oscar would recreate it beautifully - yeah, maybe not the right thing to be reading at your boyfriend’s place of work.

“hi,” a voice interrupted, causing y/n to jump quickly as she looked up to see one of the hospitality staff stood in front of her, “i was just wondering if we would be able to steal this chair? i can find you somewhere else to sit - it’s just a guest would like to sit here.”

“of course,” y/n replied, smiling up at the nervous girl before moving to shove everything back into her bag, “i probably should go on a walk anyways.”

“thank you so much, and sorry for making you move - the guest is a sponsor, so they expect us to move heaven and earth to accommodate them,” the employee added with a grin.

“i understand,” y/n replied, laughing lightly as she stood, “your hair is so beautiful by the way.”

“thank you,” the girl smiled, blushing at the compliment.

oscar had been engrossed with his team, discussing strategy and making adjustments for the practice session, when he realised it had been several hours since he’d seen his girlfriend. and once the practice session had finally ended, with a full team debrief, he made it his mission to find her.

"have you seen y/n around?" oscar inquired casually, glancing over at lando who had walked into hospitality with him.

"yeah, she was sitting in the corner over there," lando chuckled, gesturing towards the quieter section of the hospitality area, “….but she’s not there anymore,” he added, trailing off as he noticed the empty chair.

"thanks mate, glad you’ve still got those keen observational skills," oscar replied sarcastically, “don’t know what i’d do without you around.”

“hey! i was just telling you where i last saw her!” lando defended, holding his hands up, ”she’s probably in a quiet corner somewhere, reading that book. she’s probably the only person that didn’t notice i’d even walked in earlier ‘cos she was nose deep in it.”

“sounds about right,” oscar hummed, pulling his phone out to shoot her a quick where are you text.

sure enough, oscar found y/n in a quieter corner, still engrossed in her book. he approached her quietly and gently tapped her shoulder. y/n looked up, removing her headphones and quickly closing the pages before smiling warmly at him.

"hey there, lost track of time?" oscar asked, sitting down beside her, pulling his legs up to his chest as his back leant on the wall.

y/n nodded, "yeah, i guess i did. how was practice?"

"pretty good," oscar replied, "we made some solid improvements. what about you? what are you reading?"

y/n hesitated for a moment, a flicker of defensiveness crossing her expression. "oh, it's just a book. nothing special."

oscar raised an eyebrow, sensing her reluctance to share. "come on, it can't be that bad. is it some secret spy novel or something?"

y/n chuckled nervously. "no, nothing like that. just... personal. i'll tell you about it later, maybe."

"alright, fair enough," he replied, "ready to head back to the hotel?"

y/n sighed with relief. "yes please.”

“that bored, huh?” he asked as he stood, extending his arms to help pull her from the floor.

“not bored, just-”

“overwhelmed? hungry? eager to see me after a shower?”

“always.”

“good to know,” he added, draping his arm around her shoulders and pressing a kiss to her forehead, "you know, you're quite the mystery sometimes," he teased gently as they began to walk to the car.

"keeps things interesting, doesn't it?" y/n smirked, “no fun in being predictable.”

they arrived at the hotel room, and as they settled in, the atmosphere relaxed. y/n flopped down on the bed, and oscar joined her, laying his entire body on top of hers, her hands moving to stroke along his back softly.

"so, how's the book?" oscar asked again, with a playful glint in his eye.

y/n rolled her eyes playfully but couldn't suppress a smile. "it's good. maybe i'll let you read it someday."

"wow, such a privilege!" oscar feigned shock, “but how would i ever repay you for such an offer.”

"don't push your luck, piastri,” she replied, her arms grabbing his sides in attempt to push him off. he laughed, rolling to the side to lay next to her.

"alright, alright. i won't push. but seriously, thanks for coming with me today. it means a lot."

y/n's expression softened. "of course. i wouldn't want to be anywhere else."

oscar leaned in, pressing a soft kiss to her forehead. "i'm lucky to have you, you know that?"

y/n's eyes sparkled with affection. "i think we're both pretty lucky."

“i’d be even luckier if you let me read that book of yours,” he grinned.

"you're ridiculous.”

"only for you," he replied with a grin, his arm reaching across her waist for his fingers to draw circles into the skin of her stomach. his head dipped, trailing kissed along her clothed shoulder, until he was resting on his arm, hovering over her slightly, his lips finding their way to the skin of her neck.

“please,” he whispered, kissing along her jaw.

“fine,” y/n replied with a loud huff, pushing herself up from the bed to retrieve the book from her bag. oscar remained on the bed, resting on his side and using his arm to hold his head up as his eyes followed her across the room.

she launched the book at him, watching as it landed just shy of his stomach.

“come and join me,” he beckoned, shuffling himself up the bed, book in hand.

“i’d rather stand here, actually.”

“ok weirdo.”

the room fell to a silence as oscar opened the book, choosing to open at a page in the middle.

“why is this all highlighte- oh. OH. oh wow,” he spoke aloud, grimacing slightly in between raising his eyebrows at the literature, “this is - is that even possible? how has he got her leg up there?”

“you can stop now,” y/n begged, climbing on the bed and stretching over in attempt to snatch the book from his hands.

“no, i don’t think i will,” he teased, raising the book above his head, though at an angle where he could still read it, “ ‘…..he said, grabbing my other leg and placing them both behind his head’ - this girl is flexible jesus.”

“oscar piastri you give me that book right now.”

“ok! ok!” he said defensively, “….on one condition.”

“…what?” y/n responded cautiously, noticing the way he smirked at her.

“you tell me, is this something you wanna try?” he asked, “the things in this book? is that what you want?”

“minus the kidnapping part….maybe?” she replied, fiddling with her fingers.

“maybe, huh?” he teased, placing the book to his side before grabbing her waist to pull her into him. y/n straddled his lap, though desperately tried to look anywhere but his face, desperate to hide the flush of her cheeks, only worsened by looking in his eyes.

“honestly, i just wanna know if im that flexible,” she replied with a laugh, still playing anxiously with her fingers whilst trying to fight against her own awkwardness.

“i know you can get at least one leg up there,” oscar joked, fingers tickling at her sides playfully, “although, you’re not very good at twister.”

“we have played twister ONCE. and i was drunk. you cannot hold that against me.”

“drunk or not, your foot was still dangerously close to going up my ass.”

“and yet no assholes were harmed.”

“speaking of.. does this book mention anyth-”

“if you think you are putting ANYTHING up there you are very much mistaken mr piastri,” y/n argued, holding his jaw in her hands to make her point clear.

“mr piastri? i prefer da-”

“NOPE! LA LA LA,” she interrupted, quickly covering her ears before he finished his sentence.

“im kidding, im kidding,” he laughed out breathlessly, holding on to her hips as his body shook with laughter, “so about this flexibility thing.”

“let me stretch first,” she told him, kissing his lips softly. y/n moved to climb off him, only half serious about stretching, but his hands stayed put on her waist, pulling her back into him. he kissed her again, a hand traveling up her body to rest on her jaw and he deepened the kiss, his tongue swiping her bottom lip briefly.

“no need, i know a good way to get you warmed up,” he told her cheekily, his lips returning to her neck once more, teeth nipping at the sensitive skin below her ear.

“oh really?” she replied, her eyebrows raising at the suggestion, “please, go on. tell me more.”

[flowerandblood]

Duty and desire (Oneshot)

[ canon • Aemond x niece • wife female ]

[ warnings: incest obviously, sex content, smut, angst, praise kink activated, lactation kink, fluff ]

[ description: An incident between her husband and their sons causes her uncle to completely break down. She decides to show him how deep her feelings are towards him and to comfort him. A heartbroken, vulnerable, infatuated Aemond in need of simple tenderness. ]

Author’s note: The events of this oneshot are part of the canon of The Fall from the Heavens series and feature the same characters. I couldn't sleep and that's how I mentally coped with what I saw in the second episode of the second season. You're welcome, lol. If you still didn't watch it, wait with reading it (if you don't like any kind of spoilers). It can be read as a standalone story.

* English is not my first language. Please, do not repost. Enjoy! *

My other works: Masterlist

_____

He had returned to their chamber earlier, tense and visibly frustrated despite the fact that he usually spent that part of the day sparring with their sons, training them in the wielding of the sword.

She smiled at him from above her book, watching as he involuntarily looked into the cradle where Visenya slept peacefully.

The birth of their first daughter was joyous news for the entire kingdom, including them.

"So early?" She asked, spreading out comfortably in her chair, curious about this change of plans. Her uncle only pursed his lips at her words, walking over to the table where she sat and reached for a cup, into which he poured himself a little wine.

He remained silent.

A bad sign.

"What's happened?" She asked immediately, seeing that hundreds of thoughts were currently running through his mind, which if they did not find an outlet would eventually explode in the form of his fury.

He took a few deep sips from his goblet without looking at her, setting it down with a loud clink of steel on the table.

"Viserys and Aegon have suggested that Ser Robert should be the one to train them today. They apparently want to become archers." He said with a sneer and anger that startled her. She swallowed hard, closing the book, understanding full well that his words were only the tip of what he was really thinking about.

"In your presence they always feel they have to prove themselves. They're afraid of being ridiculed in front of you. Maybe it's…"

"At their age I dreamt of my father doing for me what I do for them. This is our time together." He growled, looking out of the corner of his eye into the area where she sat, but not directly at her, immersed in his thoughts, memories and regrets.

"I know." She whispered and her words, something about the way she said them made his lip tremble, made him lower his head in shame and cover his face with his hand, drawing in air loudly.

"They are terrified at the sight of me. Both of them. They don't love me, they just fear me. Their own father." He mouthed, his quivering voice betraying that although he tried to control himself, something about the thought had broken him.

She stood up from her seat, shaking her head, coming up to him quickly, wanting to touch his arm with her hand, but he moved away and turned his head, not wanting her to see what was happening to him.

"If you could hear with what pride and admiration they speak of you when you are not there. They so desperately want to please you." She muttered in pain, feeling a squeeze in her heart at the thought that he might have believed he was a bad father, when they both knew how hard he tried.

"To please me? My sons, they live to please me? And if they don't then what will happen to them? Hm?" He asked and fell silent, looking at her at last, his eye red with grief and despair, his face simultaneously red and pale with emotion, his lips parted in a heavy breath.

He covered his eyes with his hand as he burst into silent sobs, as if he had not stifled the thought for a day or a month, but for years, ever since their first son had been born.

She looked at him in disbelief, stunned, at the same time hurt and saddened by his words, by the thought of how he judged and perceived himself.

"Looking into my eyes do you see anything other than love?" She asked, renewing her attempt, taking a step towards him, and this time he didn't pushed her away, looking at her uncertainly.

"– it's something else –" He whispered.

"– how can it be? – do you think I would love a man who is a bad father to my children? –" She asked further, and he swallowed hard, trying to calm his breathing, his cheeks red from tears.

"– stop it –" He said and turned away, wiping his face, walking to the other side of the room, embarrassed and ashamed of his weakness.

"– sit down on the bed, husband – I want to explain a few things to you –" She finally said.

He sighed heavily and did as she asked, making room beside himself, looking down at his hands, heartbroken. She, however, walked up to him and did not sit next to him, but on his lap, surprising him by taking his warm, red face in her hands, stroking his moist skin with her thumbs.

For a moment she simply looked at him, all helpless and vulnerable, feeling the heat in her chest.

"– you're defending our family – you're the rock that protects us – you have to show strength – be determined – and that's hard when you're king and father at the same time – the burden of the crown is great and you know it – you're trying to prepare them for it –" She whispered, with each successive word placing kisses on his red face: on his forehead, his temple, his eyebrows, his eyelid, his cheekbone, his lips, his jaw.

She felt his hands involuntarily rise to her waist, stroking her through the material of her gown.

"– so why don't they understand this? – why do they push me away? –" He muttered, focusing his gaze on her full, plump lips, his manhood hidden in his breeches pulsed softly in a natural reaction to her closeness.

"– because they are still children – children who need their father to love them no matter what – a father who will sometimes let them go their own way –" She said softly, in a gentle, light motion untying the black ribbon at the back of his head, making the front strands of his silver hair fall over his shoulders.

"– I just want to spend time with them like a father with his sons – I want them to need me –" He whispered, and she nodded, letting his broad hand move her hip closer, making her body press against his.

"– I know, my husband – my sweet, sweet husband –" She whispered and heard him draw in the air loudly, surprised, his erection pulsed hard between her thighs.

She licked her lips, wondering if he was aroused by what he was hearing.

"– my husband is so good to me –" She gasped softly, letting their lips join in hot, sticky, lazy kisses, making wonderful heat surge through her body. "– my sweet friend – my sweet boy –"

She shuddered as his fingers tightened on the material of her gown, his throat leaving a sound she had never heard before.

He moaned.

Not the way he usually did, low and deep, when it was on the verge of panting, but high, the way she did when he gave her sweet pleasure.

Their fingers tightened on their bodies, letting their mouths find each other in greedy, violent, deep kisses – his cock between her thighs swelled all over and pulsed, hot, betraying that he was now completely ready to possess her.

"– I love you – please –" He muttered, forcibly ripping her gown off her shoulders, exposing her naked breasts, all swollen with milk. Something like a sigh of delight and relief left his throat as he sank his face into her sternum, his thumbs stroking and teasing her nipples hard from the cold.

She moaned as she tilted her head back, untying the material of his breeches, feeling the wonderful, pleasurable wetness between her thighs, proving that she was ready to receive him deep inside her.

"– my sweet husband deserve to be soothed – doesn't he? – to feel his beloved wife – how warm she is – how wet she is –" She whispered, cupping his swollen, quivering erection in her palm, feeling how incredibly hard it was, its tip thick and smooth, dripping with his moisture.

"– yes –" He mumbled in shame, directing one of her breasts to his face, holding it in his hand, finding her nipple with his mouth, beginning to suck it loudly along with her milk as she guided the head of his cock against her pulsing slit.

"– ah – my husband is so hard for me – makes me feel so fucking good – so, so big –" She cooed, sinking slowly onto his manhood only to lift herself on it with a loud click of her wetness, opening her thirsty, fleshy cunt again and again on his long, throbbing erection.

"– f-fuck –" He exhaled, embarrassed, imposing a fast, aggressive pace on her at once, clearly aroused by what she was saying and how she was behaving, needing her affection, her acceptance, her closeness, everything he couldn't ask of anyone else outside the door of their chamber.

"– it's all yours, my dearest – I can ride you all night – you'll fill me with your seed as many times as I need, won't you? –" She gasped, and he groaned loudly into the skin of her breasts, clamping his hot hands on her hips, pounding into her like there was no tomorrow, panting and quivering along with her.

She wasn't sure she had ever experienced a similar orgasm, so overpowering, hot, soothing, delightful.

"– f-fuck – f-fuck, Aemond, yes –" She whimpered, throwing her head back as she felt his body convulse, his warm seed filling her womb wit his low moans of pleasure.

He released her nipple from his mouth, panting heavily, snuggling his cheek into her chest, letting her arms embrace him in a tight grip, her lips placing tender, hot kisses on his hair.

"– forgive me – I'm ashamed – I –"

"– you are my husband – let me give you relief when you need it –" She whispered, combing her fingers through his long hair.

"– but – it was –"

"– a husband can show tenderness and understanding to his wife, but a wife to her husband cannot? –" She asked in pain, and he swallowed hard, letting out a loud, shuddering breath.

"– it won't happen again –" He muttered, needing, apparently, for her to tell that lie so he could stop thinking about how weak he was, how he needed it, how pleasant it was.

That he would beg in his mind for more.

More of her tenderness.

More of her praise.

More of her love.

"– as you wish –"

[luveline]

Hey Jade!!! I was just wondering if you could do a soulmate au with Spencer please? Maybe something along the lines of those cheesy ones like the first words are tattooed on or they have the same tattoo idk, whatever you u feel like 😊

—Spencer meets his soulmate. You’re as lovely as he’s always pictured. fem, 1.3k

Someone will love me one day.

Spencer must think it a thousand times. When he has to put his mom in the sanitarium and he feels more alone than he ever has in his life, he knows one day someone will love him anyways. When he gets called ugly, too skinny, nerd, dork, and a handful of words that are even worse, he knows one day someone will say the opposite. He won’t be alone forever.

He was two when they appeared, dark black cursive words tucked against his pulse. Spencer felt ugly nearly every day of his life, wrong and weird, but the words on his wrist have never changed, ‘You’re so handsome I can’t believe it’s you.’

One day someone’s gonna look at him and see handsome.

Today, he feels pretty good. He’s back home in Washington, D.C., the grocery store he loves is open again after a long reconstruction, and they had a bunch of fruit from South America that he’s never tried before. He carries a white plastic bag full of fruit, bread and cheese back to his apartment, each step in the sunshine, the kiss of it warming his cheeks. A busker plays music near the mouth of the subway station. Nobody has yet to scowl at him for being in the way.

He’s wondering what he forgot when he sees you. You’re smiling, the sun on your face and arms, which are strangely full. Books slide against your chest, but besides a little huff and a shift of your elbow, you don’t seem to notice the slim paperback working its way through the crowd in your arms. It drops down onto the sidewalk but you keep walking. You must be in a hurry.

Spencer darts forward to your dropped book, thumb under the title. Charlotte’s Web by E. B White. The spine is flaking and soft from use.

He should call out for you. You’re already getting too far away.

Spencer crosses the road and dives deeper into the city with you. Washington, D.C. isn’t without grandeur —it’s the capital of the USA— and so he finds himself surrounded by potted trees and stretches of well tended grass. School’s broken for the day, children weaving around on bikes and scooters or holding hands with their parents taking up altogether too much space. He loses you in the crowd.

Spencer stops in defeat.

Maybe if he puts the book back in your path you’ll see it on the way back.

He’s not sure why he doesn’t. Spencer keeps your book and starts to walk home. This isn’t how he’d usually get there, but he can manoeuvre around the park.

He keeps an eye out for you. Ridiculously, he’d thought about giving the book back to you and making you smile. He hasn’t talked to anyone who wasn’t a cashier in two days.

“Hi.”

Spencer looks down. “Hi,” he says, spooked by the little girl in front of him.

“Is that for the library?”

He shakes his head regretfully. “No, I– I found it. I’m trying to give it back.”

“Okie dokie. I never read that one before.”

“I’m sorry, it’s not my book to give away… Where’s your mom?”

The little girl points at a mom and a younger child playing on the grass near a circle of benches. There’s a huge dark cabinet with its doors skewed open in the middle, and when he squints he realises it’s full of books. “Oh, is that the library?” he asks.

“Yes!” the little girl insists.

“Okay, well, here’s what we’ll do,” he says, looking desperately for you, disappointed when he can’t see a sign of your nice blue shirt or your sunny smile, “let me go see if I can find the lady who dropped this book, and if she says it’s okay, I’ll keep it for you to have. But you can’t run off from your mom again. Deal?”

The girl grins, thick hair shiny in the sun. “Deal!” she says, running in a burst toward her mother, who startles when she realises she’d left in the first place.

Spencer creeps toward the library. He can’t leave the book here now, he’s promised he’ll try to find you.

You come around the back of the library cabinet with a smile. Free Library, the sign says. Take one if you want, leave one if you can.

You stop in your path when you see him. You smile again, you’re prettier for it, lovely with the sun on half your face, your slight squint. You open your mouth to speak.

Spencer beats you to it. “Hi, I’ve been trying to catch up to you,” he says, raising your copy of Charlotte’s Web to his chest. “You dropped one of your books.”

You take a half step back.

Spencer grimaces. “I promised a little girl I’d ask if she can have it, I’m so sorry. I get stuck and I don’t know how to say no.”

Your eyes flash down to your hands. “You’re so handsome,” you say, and Spencer’s heart stops dead in his chest, your lips shaping each word without measure and somehow the prettiest anyone’s ever looked as they move, “I can’t believe it’s you.”

His shoulders sag with a deep breath.

You raise your arm to show him the contrasting font laid against your pulse. Hi, I’ve been trying to catch up to you.

Spencer shows you his. You’re so handsome, I can’t believe it’s you.

“It’s you,” he says.

You press your hand to your mouth. “I was walking too fast, right? When I was a kid I thought if I made everybody chase me that eventually somebody would have to say it, but then it stuck, and I rush everywhere I go.” Your voice turns breathless. “But you’re the person who was supposed to catch up to me.”

He smiles softly. “I think so.”

“And I just told you you’re handsome. I’m sorry, I bet that was embarrassing to… carry around, all this time.”

“It’s the best gift anyone’s ever given me,” he says honestly.

“I didn’t think you’d be so pretty,” you explain.

“I knew you would be.”

You hold your hand out. He’s about to tell you he doesn’t shake but he finds he really wants to, and you’re not shaking his hand anyways, you’re holding it, looking at the cursive on his arm with a disbelief he echoes in his own smile. You rub the tip of your thumb over the word handsome.

“Do you like books?” he asks.

You nod distractedly. “I love them,” you murmur, looking up.

His entire arm is alive with tingles.

“Do you read much?” you ask.

Every word you trade with one another has this shy longing he’s never felt, like you’re desperate to know about one another but worried you aren’t allowed to ask. Spencer’s about to tell you all about it, how he’s always reading, how books have been with him through everything, but there’s a tug on his shirt that stops him.

“Hi,” the little girl says.

Spencer laughs. “Hi.”

“What did she say?” the little girl whispers.

Spencer looks to you for guidance.

“Of course you can have it. It’s an amazing book,” you say.

“Thank you!” she says, holding out her hands.

Spencer doesn’t mind handing it over. If she didn’t ask him for it earlier, he might’ve never had the courage to look for you. He could’ve left the book in the cabinet and turned around, but he didn’t. And now he’s met you.

You step into his side. “Did you– do you want to get coffee?” You peer down at the bag now slipped from his elbow down to his wrist. “Are you going somewhere?”

“Do you want to have a picnic with me?” he asks.

You nod for so long he has to laugh. “I’d love to,” you say, offering your open hand.

Spencer threads your fingers together. That one day he always dreamed of seems a lot closer than it did before.

[deadsetobsessions]

Alley Drunk! Danny AU- Pt. 4

[Pt.1] [Pt.2] [Pt.3]

Danny blinked down at the cart, where a red hoodie and pants with red stripes along the side laid over the lip of the cart. Considering they’re in this universe’s brand of Marget- seriously, who names a store Target? If anything in Amity Park was named that, Skulker would have wrecked it in five seconds flat- it’s hilariously on brand. Though, to be fair, this was Gotham’s version too, which meant a lot of security guards (who definitely doubled as goons for the Rogues, Danny was sure) and the vibes were spooky.

“I’m guessing red’s your favorite color.”

Instead of the humorous way he meant the sentence, Jason looked up anxiously and Danny immediately hated himself a little bit more.

“Sh- I can put it back..?” Jason hunched in on himself.

Danny tracked the movement with clearer eyes than he’s had in a long while and ancients, does it remind him of how Dani was in front of Vlad all those years ago. And Danny has spent his entire half life being not like Vlad, so he’s not going to start now.

“Nah, you should definitely add some more stuff. This is no where near enough clothes.”

It really wasn’t. Danny had taken Jason to the store to pick out clothes- “Ther’s a second hand store down the stree’, ya know,” Jason had mumbled when they went through the doors- but the kid had only tentatively put in a small red hoodie and some pants in the cart. Now he had to put this in a way that’ll wipe the stubbornly hesitant look on Jason’s face off.

“Think about it this way, then. You’re repping me now, and while I might be the alley drunk, I’m not the poorly dressed alley drunk, yeah?”

“Oh. Tha’ makes sense.” Jason nodded to himself determinedly, and the kid strode over to the t-shirt section. For all of his confidence, he still glanced back to see if it was okay with Danny.

Well, Dani was the same way before she found her confidence (when she knew Danny wouldn’t abandon her or hurt her) so Danny just gave him a thumbs up before reaching into the rack and sweeping an armful of clothing straight into the cart. Then, he strode over to the jackets and grabbed the ones in Jason’s size and slightly bigger. Oh, he has to grab shoes. He’ll leave that for later, but Danny was going to get those ratty trainers off of Jason’s feet and into the nearest trash can if it was the last thing he does.

The halfa hummed, pausing at the first decidedly not miserable sound he’s made in a while. Dammit, if that wasn’t a sign of Danny’s attachment to Jason, he doesn’t know what would be. To be fair… Danny already committed murder for the kid, which was pretty much something he thought he’d never do, so in for a penny out for a pound or whatever.

He put a significant amount of the budget aside for the section labeled “JASON” so Danny shopped without a worry. Charlie’s ill-gotten assets were a good monetary compensation for his crime of existing near Jason or existing, period.

He picked up toiletries, toothbrushes and the like, when Jason came back sans t-shirt. Instead of a shirt- Danny had actually hoped that Jason would try to get multiple shirts- Jason was clutching a book.

Before he could even voice anything, Danny plucked the book out of his grip and put it into the cart with a disarming smile.

“Oh, good idea. We should get you books too. Wanna go pick out some more?”

“Uh- y’re just gonna get a book, just like that?”

“More than one book, I should hope. You are going to school, right?”

“…Yeah!” Danny couldn’t fathom ever being excited at the thought of school, but as Jason bounced away to peruse the admittedly poor selection of books, Danny couldn’t help but think that maybe he should give this education thing another try. Who knows? Maybe it’ll be less stressful now that he’s not Phantom.

Danny walked to the aisle next to the books and promptly proceeded to shove every single piece of stationary he thought was nice- pens, gel pens, cooling pens and pencils, a thick stack of notebooks, flash cards, etcetera- into the rapidly getting full cart.

Jason came back with three more books- nice, the classics- and froze at the sight of the cart.

“Oh, hey. Getting all of those?”

“Wha’- wha’s wit’ the stuff?”

“School supplies! Quality education starts with quality supplies, you know!” Danny said, a sliver of the grin that used to come so easily to him making an appearance on his face. "Don't worry, I budgeted. See?"

Danny handed Jason a piece of paper, confident that the kid would know if it was good or not.

"Where'd... ya get all of this?"

"Hmm... here and there."

Jason looked up at him, squinting suspiciously. "I hear' Charlie's gone poofed up."

Danny shrugged and put a calculator in the cart. "Oh, I'm sure he's busy."

Yeah, Danny thought vindictively. Busy being dead.

"Ya sound like a walking con," Jason said as he visibly decided to give up fighting against Danny's spending. "We nee' food."

"Gotcha. Well, if you need anything else, just bring it into the cart."

"I want veggies. Frozen, 's cheaper."

Danny nodded, resisting the urge to ruffle Jason's hair.

----

"Hey, you's the Alley Drunk, right? 'Bout that boy you've been toting ar-"

Danny punched the guy in the face, dropping him like a stone. He looked up slowly and swayed.

"Any of you ask about my kid brother again, and I won't bother with being drunk when I hit you."

Rapid nods. Danny shuffled away, satisfied.

----

Two weeks later, after a school day, Danny finds Jason heading to the bathroom with a box of...

"Hair-dye?"

Jason, who was marginally more relaxed and assured that Danny wasn't going to kick him out, nodded.

"Dye's fadin' n' I dun wanna get nabbed on the streets for having red hair."

Danny blinked. "You have red hair?"

"Sure do. See? Roots are showin' again." Jason pointed at his scalp where Danny could see the hair was getting lighter.

"Right. Well- I'll leave you to it. Let me know if you need help, kiddo." Danny said, desperately hoping he hid how off kilter he was feeling well.

"I don't need help, ah've been doing this for ages." The kid went into the bathroom and closed the door harshly. When the lock clicked and the faucet began running, Danny let himself slide down the wall into a crouch, hands cradling his head.

Red hair. Blue eyes. Tan skin. The facial features. The intelligence and empathy.

Danny chuckled hysterically under his breath.

Was Jason this universe's version of Jazz?

"Fuck."

[anastasiabowe]

𝙍𝙄𝘾𝙃 𝙂𝙀𝙉𝙏𝙇𝙀𝙈𝘼𝙉 — As a broke college student, it’s not wrong to want a rich boyfriend! That doesn’t mean you’re a gold digger, or will stoop so low you will ruin your worth, it just means you want a man who will take care of you, and guess what? You found him.

note: this will be a 3 part series! First one I’ve ever made and may be my last! So please not too much on these writings! Luv you!

𝙋𝘼𝙍𝙏 𝙄 𝙋𝘼𝙍𝙏 𝙄𝙄 𝙋𝘼𝙍𝙏 𝙄𝙄𝙄

Content Warnings: language, suggestive content

Nanami is a man of morals. He usually keeps his hands and eyes to himself, he holds the door for anyone, women especially, he respects boundaries, and if anything that causes him to think inappropriately he will kindly excuse himself to make sure he doesn’t seem like a creep. But Nanami is just like any man.

Nanami longs for a lover, a wife. He desires children, a family. But in this cruel, sick world, he can’t find a woman who wants him for him. Nanami is one of the top 10 richest men on the planet, he not including himself, but his company in that title.

Every woman he has attempted to date tries to put on their best “I love you for your heart not your money!” act, but it slips the second they tell him “oh no! I forgot my wallet!”

Nanami knows every trick in the book, he knows the look women give him when they are impressed by his wealth, he knows the lip biting they do to show interest in his looks, he knows the voice and excuses they say to make him fall down to their feet, which he never once has done nor will do. He knows it all. So dating people that have seen him before he’s met them makes it all the more boring.

So, when Nanami’s friend, Haibara introduced him to dating apps, he obviously was shook.

“You really had no idea there were dating apps?” Haibara blankly looked at him. Nanami bit his thumb in uncertainty.

He grumbled a little “no.” And his friend smiled. “Then sign up! What can you lose? They don’t have to know what you look like.”

Nanami hated that idea. “No, I want them to know who I am.” His firm voice erased that idea completely from his friends plan.

“Well, 80% of this world knows who you are, that wish you want isn’t going to happen.” Nanami sighed knowingly, just tired from his sad lonely life.

“Haibara, thank you for this..” Nanami thought carefully of his words. “Great discovery, but I think it’s best you head home and I sleep on it.” Haibara understood, and firmly grabbed Nanami’s shoulder on his way out.

“You’ll find her, I know you will.” Nanami placed his hand firmly on Haibara’s in a thank you, and Haibara left.

After Nanami heard Haibara leave, he hurriedly sat down on his couch and opened the dating site.

“RICHTON THE DATING APP FOR THE WEALTHY!”

Nanami quickly laughed at the cringe advertisement, but it was a popular app, so something was working.

Nanami put in his information and had to choose which photos to put on his profile. He chose the first decent ones he could find, not caring too much about perfection, and he was brought up with the interests slide.

He clicked three random ones and pressed continue. The app asked to use his camera to verify his age and photos. Nanami positioned the camera to where it said to and he was verified. The app welcomed him to a very ugly woman.

Nanami had skipped the tutorial at the beginning and just swiped towards the X like he has seen on TV. This app was the definition of a gold diggers dream. Rich men pay to speak with women that aren’t even all that.

Nanami swiped and swiped towards the x. No woman looked like a decent women. They all looked like they seduce men or are prostitutes, maybe both. Nanami frowned seeing all the half naked women.

“Should I really be on this app?” He thought to himself. He continued to swipe, heart sinking each swipe to the left seeing women who don’t know their worth. Ass in the camera more than their face just to get a quick buck. Nanami swiped one more time ready to turn his phone off, and his thumb froze.

A girl with straight hair smiling in what seems to be senior photo. She was in a white summer dress posing in a daisy field. The beach was calm behind her and he couldn’t help but stare at her smile. She seemed so pure, so innocent and that was exactly what he was looking for. He swiped right on her profile and it opened up a message saying:

“YOUR FIRST MATCH! SEND HER A MESSAGE WITH THE AMOUNT YOU WOULD LIKE TO SEND!”

Nanami saw a text box and a drop box. The drop box has let Nanami type in the amount he would like to send. The minimum was 5 dollars. He typed in $100 and pressed on the text box.

His thumbs again froze. What should he say? Should he compliment her? Introduce himself? Nanami combined them. He typed.

“Hello, my name is Kento and I couldn’t help but be in absolute awe seeing your photos. You are absolutely beautiful.” He sent it without looking back, this was already hard enough.

Nearly instantly you saw his message and typed.

Y: “Oh my god, you did NOT have to send that much money!”

He imagined your voice as he read your message. He chuckled to himself like a madman and he started typing back.

N: “I wanted to, you are so beautiful, I couldn’t help myself.”

He nervously tapped his thumbs on the side of his phone waiting for your response.

Y: “I really do appreciate the compliment but $100 is too much, I can’t accept that!”

N: “Too late, I want you to have it, I want to talk to you.”

Y: “You can’t talk to me for free!”

N: “That’s not how this app works..?” Nanami was confused.

Y: “Oh, right.. I forgot you have to pay to chat.”

N: “Please don’t be alarmed by the money, I’m not running out anytime soon😂”

Nanami cringed at himself for using such an emoji, but he wanted you to feel at ease.

Y: “Thank you, you really didn’t have to though. I won’t stop saying that.”

N: “Then let’s change the subject. Why are you on this app?”

You saw his message but didn’t text back. Did he ask a triggering question? You soon started typing, and his nerves came back.

Y: “You know, a broke college student who needs a little extra cash😅”

He chuckled, for a girl who didn’t want a hundred bucks, that’s sure what she was looking for.

N: “Haha, so you won’t mind if I send more?”

Y: “Don’t send more! I’m not that broke😭”

Nanami smiled. He smiled as if you were really there. He imagined having this conversation with you and how hard you would make him laugh with your silly remarks.

N: “Don’t worry, I won’t 😂, but it’s not like you’re going to stop me.”

Y: “I’ll send it back😜✌🏾”

N: “I’ll send it back!”

Y: “And I’ll send it again, it will be a whole thing if you make it💀”

The fact you both were arguing over money is crazy, Nanami never argued with a woman about sending them money. They usually do a “oh no you don’t have to do that!” But will eventually accept. You on the other hand are just outright refusing. Nanami is now intrigued by you.

N: “If you won’t accept my money via here, how about dinner? I’ll pay, and I won’t argue about it when we get there.”

You again took your time typing, very obvious you are unsure.

Y: “Okay… but where are you tryna take me?”

N: “I was thinking…. Hermes?”

Y: “You’re joking!”

N: “What?”

Y: “I can’t afford that!”

N: “You’re not paying.”

Y: “Still, I can’t make you pay for that!”

N: “I want to pay for it, I eat there all the time.”

Y: “Not for two☹️”

N: “I’ve paid for 10.”

Y:“Kento..”

N: “Y/n, please. I want to meet you. You intrigue me, I’ve never met someone like you. I don’t want to seem like a begged, nor do I want to pressure you, but I would love to meet you and enjoy a nice dinner with you.”

Nanami felt desperate even though he just met you not even an hour ago.

The long response time again happened, and Nanami felt like he blew it. The once time he felt like he actually found someone worth the time, he blew it.

Y: “Okay.”

Nanami’s heart fluttered seeing your message.

N: “You will have dinner with me?”

Y: “Yes! I’ll have dinner with you😂”

Nanami felt like a little boy again. He hadn’t felt this excited to ask a girl out since never and it felt good.

N: “How does tomorrow sound? I know that’s soon, but it’s the only day my schedule isn’t busy.”

Y: “Yeah, tomorrow would be great!”

N: “Alright, I’ll see you then!”

Y: “See you!”

+

The next day Nanami felt different. His head was somewhere else, somewhere lighter, happier. He felt… excited? He wasn’t sure, he hasn’t felt this way until his first client offered him half a million dollars as he started his journey in this company.

Nanami played more upbeat music, very different from his normal taste, and he swayed and stepped with every beat to the song as he ironed his clothes. He had opened windows and instead of wincing from the sun hitting his eyes, he smiled.

“What a beautiful morning.” He thought to himself. Nanami must have been in a different place that he didn’t even know was so negative until now. He was looking forward to a dinner with someone. He hasn’t felt that way in years and he just wishes he could meet you right then and there.

Nanami nearly put on his freshly ironed clothes and grabbed his briefcase and blazer. He locked his garage door and headed straight to his black Porsche that he usually doesn’t drive, but today, why not?

Nanami drove to work with a smile on his face. Haibara greeted Nanami as he stepped out of his car and a valet stepped in for him.

“Good morning.” Nanami smiled and Haibara walked beside him.

“Good morning…” Haibara stared at Nanami’s face.

“Did something happen?”

“What do you mean?”

“Did you win the lottery? What’s got you so happy?”

“Haibara.” Nanami stopped and turned towards his friend, “Thank you.”

Haibara wanted to laugh, he didn’t even do anything, right?

“for what” Nanami smiled at Haibara.

“For showing me that ‘app’. I’m going to meet someone for dinner tonight.” Haibara smiled at Nanami.

“That’s great, Kento! What’s her name?”

“Y/n.”

“Hm, is she pretty?”

“Beautiful.”

“Is she rich?”

“Eh..”

“Is she young?”

“Kind of.”

“What do you mean by ‘kind of?”

“She’s… 20..” Nanami purses his lips waiting for Haibara’s reaction.

“20?!” His eyes were wide and he laughed. “You’re 34!”

“She’s very aware of my age.” Nanami said not amused by his friends reaction.

“I mean, hey, if a woman 14 years older than me asked me out, and she was hot, I’d go out worth her too.” Haibara threw his hands up in a ‘what can I say’ pose and Nanami rolled his eyes.

“We meet at 6, so I just need to get through today.” Nanami said more to himself. The happy facade started to break, and he felt the butterflies pool in his stomach.

He was nervous. He hasn’t been on a date with someone he actually wants to meet in over 10 years. He doesn’t remember how to be charismatic, he doesn’t remember how to be enticing and interesting. Work has been the only topic that’s been keeping his conversations alive. He doesn’t talk to anyone about anything personally other than Haibara and that is hard enough.

Haibara saw Nanami. He knew Nanami for nearly 6 years and this was the look of nervousness. He’s seen it countless times, but that’s only because he knows him. He can tell from the slight twitch in his jaw and the subtle fidgeting with his hands.

“Come on Nanami, let’s go to my office.” Nanami nodded and followed Haibara.

+

In Haibaras office, he gave Nanami tips.

“Now I have met countless women. Hard to believe, I know, and I know how to get them wanting more.” Nanami cringed at the thought of his good friend seducing women.

“I’m not trying to get anything from her, I just want to hold a conversation and hopefully get to know her more.”

“Alright, I got you.” Haibara walked over to his whiteboard and wrote “NANAMI’S FIRST DATE”

“This isn’t my first date, Haibara.”

“I know, but you’re acting like it is.”

Nanami nodded in agreement, and Haibara clapped his hands together.

“I have cancelled all meeting that require you to be there, and will have your secretary fill in for the ones that don’t. We have all day to get you ready for your date, alright?”

“Ok.” Nanami replied. Nanami felt silly sitting in the chair and listening to his younger friend teach him how to act right on a date. Nanami usually lets the women talk since he usually doesn’t care too much about them. He usually just lets his colleagues recommend a woman and set up a date. Nanami regrets every single dollar he wasted on the money thirsty women. But he wants to try with you. He wants to talk to you and let you talk. He wants to actually get to know you, maybe even go on more dates and hang out.

“Ok, first step. Do NOT let them talk the whole time. Even if they ramble, try and have a mutual conversation. Sometimes when they ramble, they think it’s because you aren’t interested and they will want to make sure you're still intrested” Haibara took in a huge breath, “OR they are nervous.”

Nanami nodded.

“You just have to read their body language.”

“Well, how will I know if they are nervous or not?”

“You’ll know. If they look around when talking, when they cover their face when talking, when they hold their hands in their lap, if they look tense, come on, you know what nervous looks like.”

Nanami nodded again.

“Use your words, this is practice. Don’t just nod your head,” Haibara mocked him by aggressively nodding his head “say things like ‘I agree’ or ‘I’m listening’ or ask them about whatever they’re talking about so they know you’re listening.”

“Okay.”

“And don’t just say ‘okay’.” Haibara mocked again. “Try and be more creative! Let’s practice.”

Haibara sat down in his seat and tried his best to look more feminine.

“So yeah, me and my friends went mini golfing and I didn’t know what to do so I just sat and watched them play.”

Nanami sat there. What did Haibara want him to say? Haibara looked at him, waiting for a response.

“Oh, well that is very sad.” Nanami said unsure. Haibara sighed and rolled his eyes.

“Yep, might as well pay the bill and leave.” Nanami sat there dumbfounded. What was he supposed to say?

“What should I have said instead?”

“Nanami, I can’t tell you what to say, but that would have sent her home crying. You sounded like you didn’t care. You should say something along the lines of ‘did you ever end up knowing how to play mini golf?’ That will at least let her know you’re listening.” Haibara stood up and sighed.

“We have a lot of work to do.”

+

After many hours of preparing, Nanami’s watch chimed. It was 5:30 and he needed to head home and change.

“Thank you Haibara, this was very helpful.” Nanami shook his friends hand and headed towards the front of the office.

“Don’t try too hard! Just let it come out naturally!” Haibara cakes out to Nanami. Nanami smiled back at his friend and Haibara sighed.

“Please don’t screw this up.”

[dilf-issues]

Vanilla | C.M

Requested by Anon: hey dunno you take requests but since your writing is so hot , I'm willing to ask if you consider writing about roleplaying with Cillian and his wife or gf to break the dull routine they were stuck into , the way he suggested that to her being embarrassed and the sweet moments they ditch the characters in bed. He could bring his characters *cough cough * Tommy shelby. Thank you x

Synopsis: In which your boyfriend, Cillian, finds out you’ve been reading erotic fiction about his character in the Peaky Blinders, Tommy Shelby. Cillian shows you how much of a great actor he is.

Warnings: Age gap, the reader is in her 20s and Cillian is in his 40s. Roleplaying, extremely rough sex, dumbification, degradation, face slapping, spitting, pussy spanking, oral sex, unprotected sex, breeding kink, and a little cnc. THIS IS KIND OF DARK SO BE WARNED. Everything is consented it’s just that... Cillian’s gonna be rough, like ROUGH

.

Cillian had been busy. He had an upcoming new season this year and his schedule was packed. You haven’t spent time with him in quite some time now. He constantly apologized for not giving you enough attention and promised to make it up to you.

He decided to fulfill this promise.

Since he was the main character in his series ‘Peaky Blinders’, he did have massive privilege in the production. He had never done it before since he had been such a dedicated person to work with, however, he felt like he should sacrifice his work just for you. He wanted to spend the time with you, maybe have some dinner together at a nice restaurant. Just the usual things the both of you would do. Every time he had some free time he would do some nice things for you, treat you like a princess.

He came home from work that day, he got permission to take the week off and he even got back early from set. He wanted to surprise you, he had a flower in his hands a box of your favorite soft cookies. It was all so perfect.

When he came home, he saw that the first floor was empty and there were no signs of you anywhere. He went upstairs since he reckoned you were in the bedroom, probably taking a nap or reading a book.

Cillian was so happy. He was a man who barely showed any emotions in public but with you, it was different. He had a wide smile on his face, ready to surprise you but when he opened the door, he didn’t see you on the bed.

Instead, he heard the shower running and so he hummed to himself, setting the gifts down as he sat on the bed to wait for you.

As he patiently waited, he noticed your phone was still on. You were the type of person to let the screen go on forever instead of turning it off every 3 minutes like him. He glanced absentmindedly as he saw you were reading some sort of story on your phone. His actions were harmless, he just wanted to see what you were reading.

His eyes skimmed through the words as his blood runs cold.

‘Tommy had me bent over his desk, ass red and swollen from all the beatings. My pussy was leaking down onto the expensive wood, desperate for his cock to ram inside me.

“Please, Mr. Shelby, I need your cock!” I plead like a good whore as he growled.

“You are nothing but a filthy cocksleeve”

Tommy? Shelby? His Tommy Shelby? The character that he played?

It seemed like all of the blood started circulating to his face as he flushed at the filthy thing he had just read. Y/N? His sweet Y/N was reading something like that?

Cillian couldn’t believe it because someone as young and pure as he would never be this dirty. Because of their age gap, he saw her as someone that he needed to protect, shield from the rest of the goddamned world. His fragile little princess that he wouldn’t dare to inflict even a slight force in fear that she might break and shatter into pieces.

The sound of the shower became silent and it interrupted his thoughts, he quickly placed her phone where it belonged as he stood up and smoothened the spot on the bed where he sat to make it seem like he just came in.

When you had walked out, it took you a moment to notice Cillian standing there with your gifts but when you did, you gave him a small scream as you ran towards him, your figure wearing nothing but a small towel.

“Cillian?! You’re back? You brought me gifts!” You exclaimed as her wet body embraced him in a hug. Cillian was somewhat still blank from what he was reading earlier.

‘If she had liked that kinda stuff so much he could push her on the bed and beat her ass right now’

His eyes widened at his own thoughts as he tried to push them away, “Yes princess, I thought maybe I haven’t been paying attention to you now have I? I’m all yours for the week, baby”

You pouted as you nodded at him, and then he realized how submissive-looking you were. You had always had a demeanor of what he would expect someone much younger than him to have, however, Cillian was starting to look at it in a new light.

It doesn't help the fact that he still has his Thomas Shelby haircut for the filming.

It also doesn’t help she was almost naked in front of him, he hadn’t fucked her in weeks. It’s almost fitting.

Maybe doing something about it wouldn’t hurt now would it?

Oh... But it’s definitely gonna hurt you...

Cillian watched closely as the girl before him admired his gifts for her in awe. His eyes became more and more lusted as he figured out a way to approach you.

“Love, can I ask you a question?”

You hummed at him innocently as she raised her brows at him, “Anything, Cill...”

“What have you been reading on your phone, hmm?” Her eyes widened slightly as her heart started to pound in her chest. Cillian was looking at her so intensely that it was slightly scary. She didn’t know if she should lie, or if she should tell him the truth. However, since he had asked... It was obvious he knew the truth.

“Cillian I can explain” You sputtered, panicking on the inside as Cillian started closing whatever gap that both of you had, he was looking down on you in a way he had never done before. You felt the chill run down your spine as you felt the back of your knees hitting the bed.

“Explain” He commanded.

“It’s just... You know I love you and you know I should be honest to you no matter what. But... I just... We haven’t been together in a long time lately and even when we do... It’s always the same...” You felt guilty saying this to him, it’s not like he was bad at sex. He was great. However, you were getting bored with the same soft and loving sex you two always had. “I just... I hope you can be a little rougher, that’s all. You’ve always been... So soft”

“Soft... Hm?” He tilted his head to the side as he stared at you almost mockingly, “Be careful of what you wish for, love”

You had felt your heart stop when Cillian’s smooth Irish accent suddenly turned into the dark Brummie accent you had always heard about on the TV. The one you had always touched yourself to when he wasn’t around.

Then out of nowhere, Cillian had roughly pushed you on the bed as you fell down and whimpered softly. He pulled off the towel on your body as you were left naked, “C-Cillian!”

“Who the fuck is Cillian, eh? Have you been fucking whoring yourself out to another man?” Cillian cursed at you as he quickly took his clothes off, “You’re my whore. You’re mine to fuck, you got it?”

Then you can physically feel your gears shifting in your brain, “T-Tommy?”

Your body shivered as you felt yourself getting wet, you were all naked and you were ready for him. You felt your legs spread instinctively as you heard him laugh, “You really are such a desperate fucking cunt, eh?”

‘Tommy’ had bent down as he gripped your face by the cheeks and roughly shook your head, “Who do you belong to? Who do you fucking belong to?”

“Y-You Cill-Tommy! I belong to you!” Tommy smirked, as his hands traveled down to your navel, teasing you as he drew figures on the skin, making you whine, “Open your fucking mouth you dirty whore”

You wasted no time opening your mouth for him, wide with your tongue out. Suddenly, he did the unexpected when he spat in your mouth, “Fucking swallow it, princess”

You swallowed his spit like a good girl as you held out your tongue to show to him, suddenly seeking his praise and validation however it never came. Tommy just hummed as he let go of your face harshly, almost slamming your head onto the plush bedding.

Characters aside, Cillian was never like this. Throughout the year of your relationship, he had always been gentle and kind, treating you like a soft feather and taking care of you. Maybe because it was because he was much older he had felt like he needed to treat you gently. You never realized Cillian had this side to him. He had always had this side, you just never awaken it.

“Spread your legs wider” He commanded, his voice dark as his character, you listened to him, eager to show him you were his good girl as he hummed looking down at the glistening flesh in between your legs. You were so wet it had dripped down and leaked onto the bedsheet. Without a warning, Tommy gives a hard slap to your cunt and you screamed out. You thought he was doing it once but it seems like it came over and over again, beating your swollen pussy and clit until it was throbbing and red. You cried out of pleasure and pain, as you begged him. You didn’t know what you were begging for but it was sure not for him to stop.

“You fucking like this don’t you? Fucking hell, look at you. You’re fucking wet, you like getting fucking beaten and bruised huh? What a fucking whore. You are nothing. You are only good for fucking, you are only here to fuck. Remember that, you fucking cunt”

Tears were flowing down and you were desperate you were so desperate for his cock. After each word, Tommy spat on your body, leaving you all wet and filthy combined with your own sweat and arousal.

“P-Please! P-Please, fuck me, Tommy! Please I need your cock. Please I want your cum. I need it inside me!” You pleaded like a whore as he slapped your face. You moaned out as his hand traveled down your neck and choked it just enough to make you feel the air around you restricting. “Tommy, I can’t, I need your cock”

He scoffed, pulling down his pants as whipped out his cock. It was so hard to the point where it became purplish-red, the veins covering the base as the head leaked with pre-cum.

“You want my cock?” He lined up his tip on your vagina, “You fucking get it you cocksleeve”

Without giving you a warning and time to adjust, Tommy slammed his cock inside your cunt and he wasted no time ramming into you roughly. Not like you needed time to adjust since you were sopping wet. All you can do is choke out his name and moans as he grunts with each slam.

His pace was rough and deep and for someone like hin with his age, he had the stamina to go on and on fucking you so rough till you can feel him ramming in your stomach.

No words could even cum out of your mouth as your eyes rolled back as he fucks you braindead.

Spit drooling at the side of your mouth as you babble like a cock hungry whore underneath him.

“I’m gonna fucking cum and you’re gonna take it. You’re gonna fucking carry my babies, and even then it is not gonna stop me from fucking you stupid”

You could feel him twitching as his thrusts were getting sloppier and sloppier, you could also feel your orgasm coiling in your tummy as you cried out once you let it all go, the liquid splashing all over the both of you as you squirt on his dick.

You were heavily overstimulated and you screamed as Tommy fucked the cum out of him.

The warm seed spilled inside your walls as he grunted in pleasure, leaning down as he bit your neck and drew blood to the surface.

Tommy looked at you all fucked out, eyes still rolling at the back of your head as you continue to babble nonsense to nothing.

He breathes heavily as he lays down beside you, carefully moving your body to cuddle up to him.

“Like I said, my love... Be careful of what you wished for”

[nonushu]

03:35 pm

genre: fluff, meet-cute? - wc: 581 [ a/n: i read 'the seventh day' by yu hua, which was recommended by wonwoo! (no mention of a specific book here besides the genre) ]

"i'm sorry dear," the librarian whispers, "the only version of this copy was signed out an hour ago."

you nod, glancing at her apologetic features. the woman removes her glasses and lets them hang by the chain attached to the temples.

"no worries at all, miss," you reassure her, turning away to find something else to read, "thank you."

she smiles kindly as you disappear between the shelves, tracing your finger on each book. it feels almost daunting, lurking from aisle to aisle, waiting for something—or anything to catch your eye.

as you approach the end of the fiction novels, you figure it might as well be the end of your search. with a sigh, you continue your path, only skipping past the shelves and towards the exit.

just as you reach to pull the doors, something—or rather, someone—catches your attention. he's standing at one of the small checkout desks by the window, engrossed in a book. his dark hair falls slightly over his forehead, and his glasses sit at the tip of his nose.

"oh, would you look at this," you hear the librarian say to the young man who's stepped up to the counter, "this book is quite a pick, wouldn't you say?"

you watch him raise a brow at the woman, the man—who you now realize is holding the exact book you were searching for.

"really?" he asks, looking down at the book in his hands. “it’s a popular one, i suppose.”

her eyes crinkle as she hums, averting her gaze to the computer. a smile spreads on her face when she spots your figure above the screen. "in fact, that's them right there."

you feel your face flush as he follows her gesture, his eyes meeting yours. like a deer caught in headlights, you stand there awkwardly, having no idea what to initiate. should you leave or—

he hesitates for a moment before mumbling something to the woman. after you hear another beep, he walks over to you, the book still in his hand.

“hey,” he says, raising his hand to display the book. “i just heard you were looking for this.”

your eyes widen, slightly embarrassed. “y-yeah, i was, but it’s okay. you got to it first.”

he shakes his head, offering the book to you with a soft glint in his eyes. “it’s no problem. i insist you take it. i’ve read it a couple of times already.”

you stare at the book, then back at him. “you sure? i don’t want to take it if you were going to sign it out today.”

“i’m sure,” he says, his grin widening a little. “books are better when shared, don’t you think?”

his words make you chuckle, and you reach out to take the book, your fingers brushing his as you do. “thank you, that’s really kind of you.”

“it’s no problem,” he repeats, his gaze softening as he watches you. his hand reaches for your empty one, “wonwoo.”

you gladly accept his, taking note of how gentle he feels, “y/n,” you reply, feeling your heart skip a beat.

"you think we could maybe...uh, talk about the book some time?" he asks, putting his hand behind his head.

you're quick to agree, the thought of seeing him again making you visibly giddy. “i’d like that.”

“great,” he says, his eyes twinkling with a quiet excitement. “i'll see you around?”

you clutch the book close to your chest, smiling like an idiot. “see you around.”

[nuggetofthesea]

Before writing more stories, I want to help people come to terms with the "identity death" and heavy themes in the animal HRT comics, and as a writer, want to explain why it isn't ACTUALLY death, but a form of renewal. Because I see it on all of my friends posts.

"I am just concerned about this loss of self thing, it sounds like identity death and I don't like it" is the common comment.

But in all of these comics, it is less about loss of self, but more about leaving behind who you were. A sign of extreme change and showing their own way of moving forward, and the start of a brand new life. A willing change to a new start.

Identity death is an unwilling change. All choice was stripped away from them and a new identity forced on them. This is also different from a transformation that leads to acceptance of the new form.

But in the animal HRT comics my friends put out, it is a willing change to a new form and cones with mental changes they are willing to go through. That isn't the same as a death. But a new start to their life they can start living to the fullest. It's also why some choose not to start anew, to bring one journey to a close and begin a new one. They choose to have that be part of the same journey. A new chapter instead of a new book if you will. In either case these are willing changes.

It can seem terrifying to some, but a total rebirth of yourself CAN be a slightly scary theme. It is terrifying to choose to take that new life.

But let me set up an example here:

When I first came to be, I thought I was going to be a visual artist, because Ashe was and that's what I remembered. When I was locked away by my own doing in the headspace I was stuck in a perpetual cycle of misery. It was terrifying to take the step to discover myself. To lower the barrier I had created, to rediscover myself.

But when I came to be, Ashe said I could be anything. A new sense of self outside of her. A new life. I tried to draw first, but I couldn't. Visual art was not my thing anymore. It never was. I just held on to memory of being a copy of Ashe. When writing my introduction I realized I love the feeling of writing. I have my own form. My own life. My own identity. A new start.

So let me ask you: Should I have not taken that opportunity to completely cast off who I was to embrace who I am? Should I have left myself in misery and fear as something I'm not? All for the sake of not casting off who I was and my life before? No.

Now while I do remeber all of what happened before my change, none of that shapes who I am now, because that life wasn't mine in the first place. This isn't a death of my identity, but a new start to an identity I chose. And I am happy to be able to live it with my new sense of self and build NEW memories. A new life.

Which also leads to the second heavy theme in those comics. Shortened lifespans. Outside of the fact that we are told time and time again HRT can lead to a shorter lifespan (which is a false average) starting a new life also means you are probably starting in the middle.

Our body is almost 30. That is 30 years of my lifespan gone. Yeah, I was around for 15 (almost 16) years of that, but my new life began a week ago. Who I am began just last week. And even though in the headspace I am early to mid 20s at best, that is still a cutdown lifespan.

So should I just have not bothered with the new start?

Absolutely not. The gift of life, new or old, isn't about how long it lasts. But how you live it. It is hard, it comes with problems, but for as long as I have of it, I will cherish the new memories I build, the new start I have, the ability to just... exist. For as long or short as that may be. And through this new start to my life, the people who love and care for me are still here. Still stand by me. And that is a great thing.

So please, don't be too offput by heavy themes in our stories. Even my stories will have some rough parts. (They'll always be tagged)

Hope this at least helped ease why those themes are there, and why some people choose to have them.

Also, don't worry about "adding to the fuel used against us" because we could sneeze and they'll find a way to use that against us. The fact is, with the Animal HRT series, actual HRT does come with some discomfort, pain, downsides, and problems. And like the heavy themes in the comics, we determined it is worth it for us to keep going despite them. We knew the risks.

"Everything is a risk. Life's boring as hell if you don't take them JUST because there is potential problems. Just make sure you understand them." - a line chaos told me the day I formed

It does less good to show everything as risk free and painless, because then nobody is prepared for the risks they are actually taking. Or the comic is based off the creator's life to that point, and they DID experience a lot of pain. So retelling their story (like mine) might be painful at spots.

My point of all of this is, the heavy themes are required to tell these particular stories. And while not every story requires dark spots, the dark spots help to accentuate the brighter picture. Otherwise it can just be blinding. So please go easy on the artists/writers behind them. As it is usually something personal for them.

(This also might not apply to all of them, some people just like writing horror, and we should respect that too.)

Next story should be sometime within the next couple weeks. Just needed to get this out there. It's been on my mind since releasing the short story with Iris.

-Aqua

[catiuskaa]

spots on.

SUMMARY: you. hannie. embraces. hugs. cuddles, and other synonyms. desperately needed by yesterday. complaints will be declined and ignored.

REQUESTED! by lovely annonie right here. and god you are so right, fluff + hannie is a clinical need, dare I say biblical! ㅠㅠ<3

CW: you might need a dentist appointment for this one. teeth rotting stuff. i assure you.

WC: 1.1k

A/N: so i’m back from the dead and haven’t written anything since february’s special and have been real low lately. thought fluffy hannie could cheer all of us up! <3

[☆🔹🫂🔹☆]

Han loved watching romantic movies by himself.

It’s not like he didn’t have anyone to watch them with. He had watched plenty of shows either with you or any of the boys.

But ever since he started writing and composing lyrics, a little before he got into college, there was something about those cheesy series that had him unable to stop watching.

His eyes would glow as he stared at the screen before him while he watched, invested in how the protagonist accidentally tripped and fell against the love interest, all over again. Giggling and kicking his feet when they held hands after hours upon hours straight of watching them bicker. Having his chest tightening because the actors were so good that he could almost feel the stars in his eyes, shining just for her.

Jisung loved those old-fashioned scenes. Dancing in the rain, a silly meet cute in a book shop… countless places for one silly little emotion.

Han couldn’t see it, but he also had stars in his eyes. He blinked, feeling his eyes lightly itchy, realizing he had been watching you sleep.

Not in a creepy way, of course. After all, you had wanted to stay over to finish one of the many assignments you two had to do together for some of the mandatory subjects in both of your majors. He sighed, his eyes weirdly fixated on your figure, unable to stop looking at you. Even while sleeping, there was a certain grace to you, as if you were just resting peacefully after a long day. He snorted upon realizing that your face was pressed against the pages of the book, a sneaky drop of drool coming out of your mouth. You looked so cute.

“Get a grip, Han,” he mumbled to himself, shaking his head with a smile, giggling.

He rubbed his eyes, staring back to what he had been drafting the past hours. It was clearly obvious that his sleepiness was getting to him, because it was getting harder to decipher what the characters he was typing meant.

Suddenly, there was a hand lightly scratching your back.

You flinched in your place, sitting back up.

“It’s just me,” Han said softly. You blinked so slowly it almost looked like you had blinked one eyelid at a time.

“…awake. ‘M awake.” You brushed off drool from the corner of your mouth, to which Jisung chuckled lightly.

“Okay, sleepyhead. Time to go to bed.”

“Eh?”

“Bed, silly. We should have some sleep. We’re both doozing off.”

Bed? Judging by the time that the clock in Han’s apartment said, it was far from being that late, which was proved true when Hannie picked you up —God knows how, because he showed no signs of struggling— and brought the “sleepyhead” over to his room, that even after turning off the lamp on the bedside table, the windows let in light that the Sun had yet to take away while leaving space for the Moon to beam in a couple of hours.

He grunted lowly when he laid you down on the bed, which had little to do with your weight and much more with how you pulled him towards you.

“Hannie.” You mumbled sleepily.

“You’re close to cranky,” he smiled. “You haven’t had your coffee, and you fell asleep doing our assignment.” He sighed, moving stray hairs off your face, his hand lingering on its side, stroking your cheek. “Wouldn’t want to get on your cranky side.” Jisung teased with a tenderness only showed in your presence, not in his usual teasing, not with the rest of the world. Somehow, time spent with Han seemed like the world itself stopped spinning, waiting for you two and catch up later.

“…no.” You whined. His hand still rested on your face. Unusual. You didn’t want him to move it. “I don’t want to steal your bed.”

Unconciously, you moved closer to the warmth that his palm brought.

“It’s ok. You came here walking, and there’s no way I’m letting you leave now, not at this time.”

You frowned at him, almost pouting. You purposefuly resigned to argue, sleepily accepting his win over a silly discusion you could’ve won. But it was much better if it meant that he would keep being so… tender. You two were dating, yes, but it was quite strange, because even if you both knew about each other’s feelings, staying together had been more of a silent agreement.

Yet in that moment, seeing him smile, dark boba coloured eyes sheepishly and momentarily hidden by it, turning them into happy crescent-shaped moons, it was easy to figure asking was worth a shot.

“…stay w’me?”

His heart skipped more beats than he could count.

This hadn’t been planned. Well. Certainly not this way.

“Stay?” His tone of voice had lowered.

You hummed, smiling lightly. Your hand creeped up to his, the one that rested close to your face. In a sleepy move on your side, tantalizing for Jisung, your fingers tickled his skin, from his forearm to his palm, following a gentle path until your hand held his, and you pulled him towards you again, with more care this time.

Jisung could hear his mate’s low voice in his head, full with its classic australian accent.

“Ain’t no way she’s not head over heels for you too. I’d bet money on it,” Felix had chuckled, sipping the beer Han had handed him. “You guys are just blind cunts when you wanna be. Affectionately, of course,” he had added after seeing Jisung squint at him.

Han struggled to get comfortable in his now seemingly small bed. Of course it was small for two people. It had to be, because if you two were to fit in the space avaliable, it would mean that-

“…cold…”

The ruffles coming from how you then shifted on the bed were no match to how loud Han’s heartbeat sounded on his ears.

Your arm slid under his, lying limply on the curve of his waist, the other cocooned in the small space you settled in between you as you slotted your face in the crook of his neck.

thump, thump, thump.

He forced himself to relax.

“…how are you so warm, Ji?”

He had no fucking idea.

“Warm?”

You nodded, your hair tickling his face gently.

“…cozy. Like… a really cute ‘n little… weighted blanket.” You sighed, further relaxing into him, sending a chill to his spine as your warm breath brushed against his neck.

He was so fucking grateful for being so.

“You’re so cute, you know that?” He stated with a silly smile, a blush clearly obvious on his cheeks. He tackled you, and the two of you filled the room with giggles, his arms taking your body and settleing it on top of him.

You melted in his arms. “I missed you.”

He smiled, his hands playing with your hair. “I was only away for the weekend.”

“…don’t care.” His heart threatened to carve through his chest or melt when you tightened your hold on him, then tugged the blanket closer, covering you, thus covering him too.

He settled a strand of your hair behind your ear, noticing little moles in the way.

“I hadn’t noticed these ones before,” he mumbled in a soft voice that could almost lull you to sleep.

You hummed, not bothering to answer.

“I’ve heard somewhere,” he started soothingly, “that moles appear in the spots where, in your past life, you were kissed the most.”

With a sweetness that rottened your teeth, he pecked the small coloured spot in your neck. Then, he followed a short pattern, kissing the one under your ear, then another one in your shoulder, then finished off with the one in your cheek.

You smiled. “You don’t have any moles, do you?” He shook his head sideways, and you chuckled, brushing your nose with his sweetly.

“You better stay put, Ji,” you beamed cheekily. “I’ll make new moles on you.”

His chest tightened, and he beamed, chuckling as you peppered kisses all over his face.

A love scene like the movies.

His new favourite one.

[☆🔹🫂🔹☆]

catiuskaa, may 2024 ©

~Kats, who has to apologize for being dead for so long (and doesn’t quite have an excuse for it), and also has to tHANK ALL OF YOU BC WE’RE 1k FOLLOWERS IN BAKFBQIFNQKFKQK THANK YOU SO MUCH GUYS SRSLY I CAN’T EVEN BEGIN WJKFBAKF <333333

[nonexistent-introvert]

Alternate Reminder

Pairing: Miguel O'Hara x F!reader

Word Count: 3.4k

Content: Miguel has trouble trying to treat you fairly when you remind him too much of what he had lost. Angst, misunderstanding.

A/N: I havent truly proofread this so I'm sorry. This took super long.

Part 2

   Miguel thought you were special. He thought it was maybe the universe giving him a second chance when he saw you. His first love and his beautiful wife, standing in front of him while wearing a Spiderman suit. Maybe, he was destined to be with you, after all, a universe where you could understand him. A universe where he could finally be happy with you and Gabriella, a universe that he actually belonged to and he didn’t have to worry about destroying a whole universe just to be with you. 

   The only problem? This version of you had zero ideas of who Miguel O’Hara is. Miguel thought it was a canon event, for the both of you to fall in love. In most universes he had been to, you were with Miguel. In most, you were happy and had a family with him. In the more unfortunate universes, things didn’t work out between the two of you. The only thing that was unchanged was that Miguel and you were bound to find and fall in love with each other at one point. 

  However, Miguel hated your guts. His amor was sweet, responsible, and well-organized. You were the complete opposite of that. You were rude, irresponsible, and very messy as a person. He dared say that you were the messiest person he had ever met. There was no sign of organisation at your workstation. Papers were messily stacked on top of each other or swept across the desk. The mini shelf you had beside your desk was filled with books that were all falling to one side, some had completely collapsed. More files were squeezed on top of the books. Miguel’s greatest pet peeve was seeing the bent and folded pages being shoved into a file. The urge to help you reorganize was almost too big for him to handle causing the frustration to build up and was let out onto you instead. Miguel groaned as he met eye contact with you while he was buying his morning coffee. It was almost insulting to him how you had the same exact face as her, the woman he falls for in every universe. 

   On the opposite side of the same coin, you loathed Miguel O’Hara. He was bossy, pompous, and couldn’t take a single joke. Any conversation you have had with him ended up in the both of you arguing. Sarcasm was something everyone around you had gotten used to, except for Miguel of course who never seemed to catch on. He would simply give you a judgemental stare before giving a literal answer which you would roll your eyes at. At that point, Miguel would think that you’re being rude, and depending on his mood that day, he would either scold you or scoff at you. 

   “Just get over it, you’re always mad at Miguel anyways. I thought you would get used to it by now.” Gwen sighed, giving you the same response every time you ranted about Miguel. “It’s not like you don’t know the big guy,” Hobie said nonchalantly, having long gotten used to your rants about Miguel. “You hate him, we get it.” Pavitr groaned, complaining for the umpteenth time about how you always seemed to be talking about Miguel. Gwen chuckled, “If you didn’t point out every single flaw of his so heartlessly every time you rant about him, I would think you have a crush on Miguel  or something.” Gwen said. “Hell no. I’m not fucking blind.” you defended, offended she would even think this way. “You gotta admit, big boss is quite the looker, too bad he’s a prick.” Hobie pointed out. “Speak of the devil,” Pavitr warned, straightening up as he stared at Miguel who was walking to your table’s direction. 

    You merely glared in his direction. Gwen was right, you should be used to him by now. He shouldn’t be getting under your skin so easily. So why can’t you just ignore him? Why does your mind always drift to him when you’re alone, why do you realise when he was due for a haircut? How his hair curls at the end when he lets his hair grow, how he reaches 10 minutes early to any appointment, and how he would get his coffee at exactly 9am in the morning. You shook your head, riding yourself off those thoughts. There was no way you actually had some sort of attraction to him right? Your mind drifted to the fight you had with him 5 days ago, his words still causing a dull ache in your heart. The both of you always fought but you were sure Miguel was going to kick you off the team until he called your friends the next day and gave you a mission through them while also completely disregarding your presence if he saw you around after. 

===================

   “Mind your own business!” Miguel exclaimed, you flinched at his harsh tone. “I was just-” “Who said you could touch my property?” Anger was practically the only emotion in his voice as he pushed you to the side. “Lyla told me you were having some troubles, that your screens had some kind of issue-” You gritted out, closing your eyes to calm yourself too. You only had good intentions to fix the issues he was fixing and now you were being accused of invading his privacy. You couldn't even remember any of the files that appeared on the screen while you were fixing his terrible code. Too focused on solving the technical errors to be poking your nose into his business. “I don’t need your help,” He seethed. “She was going to help you, Miguel. You have been complaining about it and even I can’t help you, you very well know she’s the only one equipped with the knowledge to fix this.” Lyla defended you. The fury in Miguel’s eyes scared you as well, “You need to mind your own business as well.” He snarled to Lyla before turning to you, switching off the orange screens completely. “I would rather let everything burn to hell than trust you to fix anything. You’re a fucking mess if you didn’t realize. ” Miguel spat. 

  It was your last straw. You had more self-respect than let anyone speak to you like that. “Kick me off, fucking kick me off already. You hate me anyways, right? So why do you bother keeping me around?” 

   “Get out!” Miguel bellowed and you didn’t need him to repeat himself. You took off the watch on your wrist and threw it to the floor, letting it break into pieces. In that moment, his words hurt you more than glitching ever would. 

 ============ 

   Peter found you at a bar in your universe that day. You downed another glass of whiskey at the sight of Peter, you were in too bad of a mood to talk to anyone now and you know you would regret it if you lashed out at him.

  Peter didn’t say anything, simply sitting beside you and staring as you downed one glass after another. 

 Peter ordered a drink, taking sips of his drink as he decided on the best approach to talk to you. Your anger was practically radiating off you, making everyone else stir clear of you. 

   “He’s all bark no bite.” Peter started. You scoffed lightly, letting the silence fall between the both of you. You turned to peter, feeling bad for putting him in an uncomfortable situation. “You heard already huh.” Peter simply shrugged, “Word travels fast. Practically the whole society knows.” You downed another glass at that, you wondered how much the story had changed as it was passed from one person to another. It was probably a field day at headquarters. 

   “There is barely anyone at headquarters, Miguel has been bringing hell to anyone he even makes eye contact with,” Peter answered as though he could read your thoughts. You had to bite back your words, to tell Peter that you really couldn’t care less about Miguel now nor did you need the company. Silence fell between the both of you, Peter lightly bobs his head to the music that was playing in the bar to relieve the tension that was building up. He was never one for tense situations. “You know, you’re not really that different from Miguel.” Peter immediately put his hands up in defense when you practically growled at his comment. “Well, it’s just that both of you would rather die than talk about your emotions. Thankfully, I managed to crack Miguel so I think I can do it for you too.” Peter confidently stated. You remained silent, swirling the whiskey in your hand. You didn’t trust yourself to not lash out at Peter, especially when he’s practically comparing you to Miguel. The man you hated in all of the multiverse 

  “Hm, silence. Miguel screamed at me when we reached this point.” Peter observed, laughing nervously at the memory of his talk with Miguel. “I guess I’ll just go on first then.” Peter wrung his hands nervously. “I’m sure Miguel didn’t mean anything. You just hit a sore spot.” You scoffed again, “What? By trying to fix his stupid system?” 

Peter took another swig, he definitely needed the alcohol. “Do you not know about what is on those screens? One that probably popped up while you were fixing it.” “Contrary to popular belief, I wasn’t snooping on him. I was focused on the system itself.” You defended. Peter cringed ever so slightly at your response. “There is this girl on the screen, the one with a happier, better-looking Miguel.” Peter took another swig, this really wasn’t his story to tell. You pursed your lips, you did remember seeing the footage that Peter mentioned. You had to force yourself to look away, that you were invading his privacy. 

   “That’s his daughter.” Peter finished, trying to gauge your reaction. You simply preserved a blank look and Peter groaned slightly, he detested how stubborn you were. “Miguel found a universe where he had a family and was happy, but him in that universe had an accident so he replaced himself. Some butterfly effect happened and the whole universe collapsed on itself and he lost everything.” Peter explained. You finished your drink, everyone has lost someone. You understood why it was a sore spot but it doesn’t justify being a total asshole. 

“Miguel didn’t mean anything he said to you. It was just- tough.” Peter finished. “I didn’t even do shit Peter, just decided to fix his system and he accused me of invading his fucking privacy. It’s not like he’s the only one who lost someone. We all did.” Peter shuffled uncomfortably in his seat. “He just fucking hates my guts and I don’t know why? He literally told most people about my past when he explains about anomalies so why is he so mad when I know about it?” 

    “Because you have the same name and face as his wife, the woman who he falls for in every universe.” Your jaw dropped at the information. You couldn’t ever fathom the thought of you and Miguel even being in love. The anger in you simmered ever so slightly. It would explain how his features softened when he sees you sometimes, the vulnerable look in his eyes when he stares at you for too long. A stranger with memories, that is what you are to Miguel. Miguel tries his best to treat you like others. It was exceptionally tough when you shared the same name and face as the woman he had spent his happiest moments with. “He never told me,” you told Peter. Peter shook his head, “No one was allowed to tell you. Not like many people knew anyways. He didn’t want to stir up any unnecessary trouble. You know how he is, he doesn’t like it when people try to share his burdens.” You pursed your lips, cursing out your alcohol tolerance. It was times like this you wished you could just forget everything. “It doesn’t matter. Miguel probably wants me out of his life.” Peter threw his hands up frustratedly. “If he wants you out he wouldn’t send me here to tell you about everything.” Peter admitted. Peter was worried when he heard the news of you and Miguel having a fight which is what brought him to talk to Miguel. Peter wouldn’t be able to find you by himself, only Miguel could. You closed your eyes, you had enough of everyone. You were so exhausted, everything has been so draining. 

      “Just leave me alone alright?” You said, stumbling out of your seat slightly before leaving the bar and Peter behind. 

======================================

   “The anomaly was caught. We ensured there were no loose ends. Everything should be fine.” You reported to Miguel. Your hands were behind your back, there was a blank look on your face. Miguel bit his lip slightly at your cold demeanor toward him. He used to complain about you taking things too lightly. When you would stroll into his office with a grin, confidently telling him all the details of the mission even if it was insignificant. Now, you told him the bare minimum with a professional tone and stand. 

    Miguel used to complain and bluntly tell you that he didn't care for some of the details you told him after. Details like you and Gwen dropped by a Mcdonald's to grab some fries or that you also managed to finish a recent show. Now he wishes you would tell him, instead of you acting like this., all quiet and serious.   Miguel took a deep breath, staring at you as the platform descended. He looked away slightly, knowing things were still tense between the two of you. “Sorry about that the other day. I was not in the right place.” He apologised, forcing himself to meet your eye. Your expression was still blank, “It’s fine.” You brushed it off like you hadn’t been thinking about it ever since. “If that’s everything, I’ll take my leave now.” You told him, bowing slightly as you turned. Miguel flinched at the tone. “Wait.” He wanted to stop you from leaving. Then his head turned to the orange screens behind him that glitched every so often. “Would you-” Miguel hesitated, thinking if this was the best move.”

   “I- can you help me fix the screens?” Your eyebrows raised in surprise. “I promise I won’t lash out at you.” Miguel weakly joked. You simply nodded, stepping up onto his platform. Miguel stared at you, you were so unlike yourself. There were no teasing comments, no laughter, not even a hint of a smile. You stood in front of his screens, diligently and skillfully opening and typing away a new code. Miguel shifted and fidgeted behind you, he was wrecking his mind for a conversation topic. You were the one who usually initiated or continued the conversations. His mind replaying all the conversations he had with you. A smile tugged on his lips, music was your common ground with him. He remembered how your eyes twinkled when you talked about your favorite songs. 

   “I recently got into classical music.” Miguel shared. Miguel was half-convinced that he wouldn’t get a reply when you let his words hang in the air while you focused on the task at hand. “Oh? Mahler?’ You finally replied. His eyes widened. “How did you know?” He was greeted with silence again and only then did he appreciate how quick your responses used to be. “I just want to know, because you seemed really confident about it. Did I tell you?” Miguel filled the silence himself. “I just saw it.” You gestured to the screens. He nodded, letting the tense silence take over again. You were never so quiet, he never had to deal with this uncomfortable silence when he was with you. 

    “You changed.” Miguel blurted out. There was no response from you as you continued working on the screens. You didn’t know how to respond either. The news about you being an alternate version of his wife, it was rather overwhelming. You used to spite him and annoy him just for the fun of it, but after everything, you couldn’t bring yourself to do it anymore.  His gaze made you self-conscious now, of what he thought of you, and nor did you want a repeat of what happened that day. You did a lot of thinking the past few days and you had to come to terms with the fact that you didn’t hate Miguel O’Hara. You couldn’t hate him. The thought of him hating you, it was terrifying. 

     “What?” You muttered, Miguel barely caught onto your response. He placed his hands on his hips, looking down. “Look, I’m really sorry for that day and I know I can’t take back anything but I really hope you don’t distance yourself from me because of that.” Miguel swallowed, it was publicly known that the both of you never seemed to get along but the thought of you becoming cold to him made him shiver to his core. “You’re overthinking things.” You stated plainly, forcing out a laugh. Miguel sighed, “You just seem, very different. Let’s not even talk about our interactions. You have just been more distant with everyone, you’re taking things way too seriously and well, you’re a lot more well organised now. The biggest shame was losing the constant smile, boosted many of their morale even in the most difficult of times.” you swallowed bitterly, debating internally if you should snap at Miguel right now while you stared at the screens before you. “I had to work on not being a mess right?” You answered, quoting his exact words. Miguel’s eyes flashed with a hint of pain and you knew it was a low blow. He had already apologised, you’re the one who keeps bringing it up. But those words haunted you even till now. 

    “You really changed huh?” Miguel continued. He didn’t expect you to use his words against him. When you know that he regrets it, it was a low move even for you. “It’s done.” You announced, ignoring his comment towards you. Your patience was thinning again. He merely glanced towards the screens before looking at you again. “You’re not the person I knew,” Miguel stated plainly. You turned your head to him. 

   “I’m not the woman you had in mind, Miguel! I’m not your fucking wife and I’m sorry you had to go through that.” You looked away, running your hands through your hair in distress. “I never was. I’m sorry I remind you of her but I’m not her.” You snapped at him. Walking out of his office.   Everything made sense now. Miguel would be annoyed and frustrated with you most times, but there were times that he acted differently towards you. The times when he had carried you to a more comfortable place when you had fallen asleep on your table, the jackets that he had given to you to keep you warm still hung in your closet. The late-night conversations where he was more vulnerable towards you and had conversations with you about your interests while you hung from the ceiling, claiming that it helped you stay awake while you sift through the paperwork with him. You found it weird how he could hate your guts one second but be even sweet to you when it was just the two of you. At one point, you even thought you had fallen for Miguel O’Hara. 

   You shook your head, ignoring Miguel behind you as you rid the thought of even entertaining a possibility with Miguel. He never treated you as you are, he never liked you for who you are. 

  You simply shared a face and name with the woman he was destined to fall for. 

   You chuckle at how foolish you were while you stepped on the watch that Peter had given to you as replacement for your old one. 

   “I fucking quit.” You announced to a surveillance camera in the hallway, knowing fully well that he is monitoring the camera for your whereabouts now. 

Miguel angrily swept the files off his table, growling out in frustration. He buried his face in his hands, he never saw you as the woman who he had fallen for and had Gabriella with. Sure, there were a few times your identical looks made his heart pace with what could have been. However, Miguel had started spending more time with you and getting to know you as a person. In those times, he reckoned he enjoyed it too much.

There was no way he was falling for you right?

Was there a point even if he did? You had already left him.

Miguel O'Hara always messes up his own happiness. That seems more like his canon event than falling in love with you.