#wrote them after work while waiting for my bus

[citrusbatsandhoneybees]

-Guess You're Stuck With Me-

-Lucifer Fluff One-Shot-

A/N: Omg I'm finally writing again, I've been really busy for the past couple weeks, adjusting and stuff, but I can finally work on my unfinished projects now lol. Either way, flying kind of killed me, but I wrote some of this during it and I just finished it. Not my favorite, but I thought it was still cute. Hope you enjoy! <3333

Lucifer x Reader Fluff

Synopsis: The reader gets stuck in the airport, and during her wait she meets the King of Hell.

Surprisingly in Hell there are a few small flights that connected some of the outskirts of town. Unsurprisingly the security you go through is its own Hell in of itself. You already didn’t enjoy going through security in your lifetime, but you could swear on your afterlife that the hell born and sinners that ran the airports enjoyed the misery that they put everyone through. The constant changing rules that they would arrange became unreasonable in hell as they realized the control they had over the people that had to go through. Besides that, they are decidedly rude to everyone, yelling at everyone that came past, and unreasonably going through other’s luggage if they decide to on a whim. 

You were on your way to meet one of your friends on the other side of Hell, and after a long couple hours of checking in and working your way through the other processes you were finally on the other side of security waiting for your gate to announce your group. As you found a leather seat in the waiting area, you held your carry-on close, and took it. Notably nearly all the seats that surrounded you were empty, but you didn’t put much mind behind it. 

A heavy breath of relief escaped from your lips after finally being able to relax. As you sat, unwinding and leaning further back into the plump leather, you pulled out your Hell phone. Your thumbs tapped quickly against the small screen, after you selected your top contact. 

      [ At the airport now! Seeya soon! 🥰

After looking over the text a few times, a quiet whooshing sound resonated from the little speaker as you sent it. Pulling open your music app, you grabbed your beloved sound-proof headphones to set over your ears and selected a curated playlist for the day. You let out a long sigh as you slid further into the seat. Because you had gotten there quite early, you still had quite a bit of time before you had to board, so you allowed your eyes flutter shut, and decided it was best to just lounge around in this area as you waited. 

About 45 minutes later, your lids abruptly flew open as you felt a set of vibrations in your back-pocket. Sliding up into a more alert position, you pushed your large headphones back, and pulled your Hell-phone out of your pants, looking for what it could be. The moment you removed your headphones, sounds of continuous small thuds and sizzling flooded your ears, and you turned your head to the grand windows that lined the building.

Acid Rain, and not just a drizzle. Heavy, pouring, acid rain spilled down from the sky. The quick realization of your prolonged stay hit you like a bus, and a heavy groan reverberated past your throat as you turned your attention back to your device. As you thought, your flight was delayed for another few hours. Before you pushed your device back to its earlier position, another quick blurb of text was sent to your friend to let them know that you wouldn’t be able to see them for a while. 

       After realizing you were going to be in that airport for a lot longer, you picked up your things, stood from your seat, to find a more comfortable area. Once you had got up, you rolled your shoulders back, soothing the aching muscles in your back. You took a few steps out of the gate area, and looked around the building you would be staying in during the next dreaded period of time. Between the gates of the airport, the rest of the area was lined with bars, fast food joints, and shameless clubs to aid the long wait times between flights. You took your time walking down the hall, and eventually found a quaint, dingy bar close to the very end of the hall. Inside there was a mahogany counter, with various bottles of alcohol and glasses lining the wall behind it. The room was enveloped in a welcoming, dimmer lighting compared to the airport’s sickly incandescent lighting. As you spotted the quieter environment with homey seating along the walls, you took a step inside. 

       You approached the mahogany bar and looked over a small menu that sat on the wood, of course being in hell the prices were marked up to an atrocious price, but you ordered a simple drink anyway, and waited for a few moments. Looking along the wall in front of you, you fidgeted with your thumbs as you waited, until another man approached the bar beside you. He held an impish appearance, with two sweet, circular, white cheek marks and horns that bent back towards his head, but what took you aback was his smile. It was genuine and almost too charming. He ordered a fruit flavored drink with a smooth voice, and once he finished, he turned to spot you, basically gawking at him, and you swiftly turned your gaze away from him to the drink you ordered. A prideful smirk pulled at his lips, and he turned back forward waiting for his drink to arrive. After a few more moments you fell to the temptation to sneak another glance towards the man, and were met with his eyes looking over you before the bartender handed him his drink. Warmth flooded to your face as you were caught, and turned back away from him as you took another awkward sip and tried to focus on the soothing sound of rain that surrounds you. 

       Suddenly the sound of synced buzzes sounded between the two, and the both of you pulled out your phones to see the identical notification that the flight delay had another hour added onto it. Just more of this torturous wait for you to go through. A small groan ran past your lips, and the man beside you spoke up. 

      “You too?”

You lifted your head to look back at him a little confused, but it was explained easily after a small glimpse of the notification on his phone.

       “oh, haha yeah.” 

You answered and gave him a small smile as you continued the conversation. 

      “Annoying huh? Hopefully it stops pouring soon.” 

The man responded with his own charming smile that had your heart fluttering against your chest again. Your fingers felt the condensation against the cool glass as you wrapped your fingers around it and you lifted it to your face once again to take another long sip of your drink, trying to distract yourself from the flustering feeling. 

      “Where are you supposed to go?” 

As he continued the small exchange, you turned your head away from the glass to return your gaze back to him. 

      “Just outside of the city, I’m supposed to hang out with a dear friend of mine. Hopefully she doesn’t get too upset.” 

This gave you a small reminder to notify them, and you looked down towards your phone to give her yet another disappointing update on the status of your flight, and looked back towards the man who gave you a sympathetic smile. 

      “What about you?”

He responds fondly and enthusiastically. 

        “Oh I’m taking Ch- my daughter and her friends over to Lu Lu land! Heard of it?”

He stuttered for a moment, and you suppress a snort at his endearing enthusiasm. That wasn’t something you came across too often around Hell, and it definitely wasn’t something you were expecting to see. 

      “Definitely have heard of it, but sadly never have had the chance to go. I’ve always wanted to though.” 

You drifted off as you thought over what you imagined Lu Lu Land to be like in the past, and after you finished you looked back at him. Quickly you were surprised by the expression painted across the man’s face. His eyes basically sparkled, and his smile had grown wider to a prouder one. heh cute... wonder why? 

      “Oh you have to go! I- I mean it’s magical! Made for royalty by royalty!” 

Your company gestured widely and dramatically as he described the park, you smiled and laughed lightly at his small passionate rant. He felt entranced by your laughter. His grin didn't fade as looked back over to you with a raised eyebrow. 

     “Sorry, it’s just that you seem really sweet.” 

He was taken aback by your reasoning, Realizing a little too late that your statement was kind of bold you flushed slightly. Reasonings, excuses, and sorries started to fill your throat threatening to flow out, but before you could rescind or apologize, he spoke. 

      “You seem sweet too.”

You looked over to him with a warm smile, and soon he matched yours with his own. 

—----------------------------------------------------------------------------

      Eventually the synced buzzes between your phones became a more welcome sound during your hours together, as you were both able to help soothe the painful wait you both had to go through. The conversations between the two of you flowed like an easy melody, and you moved to settle in a plush leather booth that sat in the corner of the room. You were grateful to be able to admire his features from a closer angle. 

      Your beloved company proudly was telling a story between him and his daughter when she was much younger. A laugh ripped from your throat before you took another sip of your drink. 

      “Luke! I can’t believe you did that!"

He joined in on your laughter as he defended himself. 

      “You don’t understand how cute she was! That little duck onsie was perfect! How could I not!?” 

      “Everyday???”

You exclaimed towards him between your giggles. It was a really sweet story, but you couldn’t believe the indulgent manner of it all.

      “It was clean!! I made sure of it!” 

He leaned forward and nudged your side playfully to emphasize his point. His heart warmed seeing you laugh so genuinely and wholeheartedly. The man moved to sit back in the booth but spotted a piece of hair that had fallen to your face and mindlessly pushed it back. Time slowed as your breath stuttered, feeling the affectionate action, and you could almost feel his hot breath against your cheek. His eyes met yours in this frozen moment, and quickly the urges to lunge forward and kiss him weighed heavy on your mind. 

The seconds felt like hours during this tense moment, but time sped forward once again as repeated vibrations sounded once again in your back, and his coat pocket. Lucifer hesitantly resumed sitting back in his seat, and an awkward laugh fell from his lips after the interruption. 

      “Guess you’re stuck with me for a little longer.”

You returned the awkward laughter, and nodded with a smile. 

       “I really don’t mind” 

He gave you a affectionate grin, and the sentiment stuck in the air for a few moments before you stood to break the silence. 

      “I- I’m going to grab us more drinks, same thing?” 

Lucifer gave you a nod, and watched as you left the booth. Silently he cringed to himself over the hesitation over the previous moment, and the situation he had gotten himself into. This was one of the most genuine connections he had in a while, even after only meeting you that day, but he was conflicted on how to handle it. Would it change if you knew who he is? Would you run after finding out? 

       You on the other hand were reeling from the tender back and forth between the two of you. Even if it was awkward now maybe you had a chance? You ordered your drinks, and quickly returned to the man with a new found confidence. Handing over his drink, you allowed your fingers to graze his as you removed your own. A small gesture, but he noticed, looking down at his hand. The worrying thoughts were still were fresh in his mind. You looked over to him as he stared at his drink, and a pit started to stir in your stomach. Did you assume wrong? 

      “Something wrong?” 

You sat in the booth, across from him as you examined his face. He returned your gaze up to you and rigorously shook his head as he reassured you.

      “No no, just thinking.” 

He wasn’t very convincing, but you didn’t want to push him too much. 

      “Wanna talk about it?”

He bit his bottom lip in contemplation for a moment as he answered carefully. 

      “Do you still want to talk after this?

You were both concerned over the same thing. You sighed a little to yourself with a small laugh as he asked, and your heart banged against your chest as you continued. With the push of your new-found confidence and the liquid courage you’ve been drinking throughout your time with him, you looked him deeper in the eyes; you placed a hand to his chin running your thumb over the white spots on his cheeks. 

       “Yes, Do you?” 

He stuttered under your daring move, and gave you a nod. After the confirmation, you gently moved forward, moved some of his hair out of his face, and pressed a soft kiss to his cheek. 

       “Ask me out then.” 

He watched as you gave him a small teasing wink before pulling away to sit back in your seat. His lips turned up to a smile and he opened his mouth to do exactly as you said, but was interrupted once again by the sound of his usually cheery daughter, walking in. 

       “Dad??” 

Charlie called loudly from across the room, searching for her father. A harsh wrinkle formed between his brows and his shoulders tensed before he gulped and called back. 

      “Over here sweetie!”

You looked up past him and towards his daughter, expecting a small imp woman who resembled her father, but instead was faced with the tall blonde princess of Hell. A few confusing milliseconds past before you fully comprehended what was happening. Shocked, you turned back to look over at who you now understood to be Lucifer Morningstar. He glanced to you apologetically, and turned back towards his daughter. 

       “What’s wrong?” 

For a moment a relieved look spread across the princess’s face as she turned to see her father recognizing his imp disguise, Then she turned her head slightly to see you across from him. 

      “We uh- should get going.” 

She looked between the two of you inquisitively, and Lucifer let out a sigh as his golden magic enclosed around him, revealing his true identity. For a moment your breath hitches seeing the king across your way.  Realizing that you had been flirting and touching royalty the entire time made your face flush in embarrassment. 

      “Why do we have to leave Char Char? Did something happen?” 

      “No, they canceled the flight, didn’t you see it?” 

You pulled out your phone to check on your own flight realizing that yours was canceled a while ago too. All of that wait for nothing. Well... not nothing... 

You pushed your phone back into your back pocket, before stepping out of the booth. The other two Morningstars turned their eyes to you in surprise, and Lucifer’s heart tugged. You turned towards the king and gave him a warm smile still feeling the heat in your face from embarrassment. 

      “My flight was canceled too. It was nice to meet you Luk- wait sorry um- Lucifer.. or your highness?” 

Your words broke into stutters as you tried to wish him goodbye. You were about to offer him an apology for your manners, but he stopped you. 

      “Lucifer hun.. Lucifer’s fine.” 

The butterflies returned your stomach at the sudden nickname, and you gave him a small nod and smile before leaving to buy the closest tickets possible and heading back. Charlie continued to look between the two of you curiously as Lucifer almost instinctively reached for you but stopped himself short of actually grabbing your wrist. He wondered if that was it. He never got any way to contact you, so he assumed that the two of you would end up like two ships passing each other in the night. 

As you held your things close and wandered back to the ticket counter at the front of the airport, you wondered how he felt about everything. What he actually said seemed truthful, and you didn’t doubt that all your conversations between the two of you were genuine, but a large portion of you worried that you were being deliberately delusional, looking for romance where it isn’t. He was the king after all.  

—---------------------------------------------------------------------------

Once you were able to arrange replacement tickets, you decided to stay at a hotel connected to the airport because you were unable to travel under the acid storm. Next thing you know you were at the airport once again. You took the next flight to the outskirts of hell, hoping there wouldn’t be any more issues. You went through the dreadful security once again, making sure to do everything perfectly to avoid getting yelled at, and as you finally passed through check out and security once again you walked up towards your gate. 

This time you were able to actually board the plane at the time it was scheduled, and you settled in your seat as you waited for everyone else to board. You bent over and pushed your carry-on under the seat in front of you. Then after you turned down the brightness of the vox-tech screen attached to the seat in front of you, a long breath of relief passed your lips. 

As you sat back in your seat, others joined you, strolling towards and sitting in periodic seats throughout the plane, and soon you heard a cheerful and bubbly female voice not that far from you. Your eyes flutter back open to peer over your seat and look towards the entrance to view the blonde-haired princess walking in and enthusiastically inspecting her surroundings. A cold shiver runs down your spine as you recognized Charlie from the night before, and you quickly pulled out a magazine from the seat pocket in front of you as you slid down and hoped that she wouldn’t recognize you. You weren’t sure how you didn’t put it together that you could be on the same plane the next day, but your nerves were spiked as you flushed from the embarrassment of the night before. You opened a magazine wide, and pulled it to your face, as you, noticeably, peered over the magazine to watch her other friends walk through the aisle right behind her with her father being the last in line. He seemed almost bored as he looked around and fidgeted with his apple atop of his cane as he made his way down the plane. As you continued staring, the line had progressed enough for Charlie to spot you behind the paper you held. Her eyes narrowed for a moment, and popped open wide, giddily, as she realized who you were. She nudged her girlfriend behind her as she looked over to you, beaming. 

You whipped your head towards the princess as she giggled past you and looked back at her dad to see if he had noticed. Her line of guests kept walking with her, and her grin grew as she whispered excitedly with her girlfriend. You watched them walk by, and a spider-like demon looked you up and down with a smug smile and a prideful glint in his eye. Slightly confused, you met his eyes, searching for an answer until he eyed the magazine you held. Turning your eyes down to the issue, you recognized his resemblance on the cover and flushed as you felt your stomach drop. Frantically you rolled up the Valentino brand magazine and bunched it into the seat pocket. 

       “wait I- it isn’t, I wasn’t!”

Your panicked, and the failed attempts to cover yourself were picked up by the king and he observed past his line of guests. Once he spotted you his own heart broke into a quick rhythm, as his mind raced through things to say. You glanced towards him and met his eyes for only a moment before looking back at the porn star. The demon chuckled as he gave you a teasing wink and continued walking past the rows to his seat. The others followed with him, and you fiddled with your thumbs, hearing the loud drumming against your chest, as the man approached to walk past. Lucifer glanced towards you, and opened his mouth to say something, but came up silent. In the fleeting tense moment, against your own logic, you turned your head to give him an awkward smile, but a smile, nonetheless. His heart came to a shocked stop, and he gave a simple smile back, with a small bit of resurged confidence he was about to speak. However another sinner behind him had the gall to tap his shoulder, and he realized he was holding up the line behind him. You watched as he continued walking, joining the others in their assigned seats in first class. 

Once Lucifer had sat with his daughter and her residents of the hotel, he was bombarded with questions within her daughter’s excitement for him. He had resolved his daughter’s curiosity as he told her the night before what had happened between the two of you, and it seemed to only fuel the romantic in her. He on the other hand was still quite concerned with how you felt.

      “Soooooo!! Did you talk to her??”

He set aside his cane as the others joined her to stare over at him. 

     “Char Char, I only had a few seconds.. but no not really” 

Her disappointment only lasted a moment though, as he spotted a few napkins in their area. His nerves still held the reins, but he persevered as he grabbed a paper square, and summoned a golden fountain pen. 

      “Awwww! Dad, you're gonna write a note?”

A simple nod was sent her way as he bit his bottom lip, and he scrambled together a note. 

      [Wanna go out for drinks again? -Lucifer] 

His eyes scanned over the note, and he shook his head with a groan. 

      “What? no no no that sucks.” 

Lucifer murmured to himself. He then crumbled the note in his fist and bunched it into the seat pocket as he grabbed another blank square. Quickly he scribbled his cursive handwriting down again. 

      [Would it be weird if I asked you to go out with me?]

What? Don’t ask that! He thought as he scoffed at his second failed attempt, and repeated scrunching it up and shoving it down the seat pocket. He gained the others attention once again as they watched him continue to pull out napkins to only waste them away. 

        [Remember me? The guy who you had drinks with last night, and lied about his identity? Yeah wanna have drinks with him? He’d love it if you would! -Lucifer] 

As Charlie’s dad spoke through his last note with a exaggerated tone she took it from him, and tried to calm his rushing thoughts. 

      “Dad, just keep it simple! You’re thinking too much!” 

He looked over to his daughter who held his forearm, keeping him from starting another attempt. He let out a small sigh as he remembered the night before. Although the number of interactions were limited, just the thought of your smile was enough to give him butterflies again. Compared to before, Lucifer held a calmer exterior. His fingers held onto a corner of another napkin and placed it down to his tray and wrote simply. 

It had been quite a while since your brief interaction with the king of hell. You took in an understanding as the plane started to take flight that this was probably the last time you would interact with him, and tried to accept it as the plane finally was settled in the air. However your thoughts were interrupted as someone spoke over the intercom. The pilot had finally given the go ahead to use your trays, and quickly, with a small flourish of glittering, golden magic, yours had unlocked and laid in front of you. Then a rubber duck with Lucifer’s likeness appeared with a napkin in its beak. After the initial surprise, you brought the rubber creature closer to inspect. Memories of the stories Lucifer had told you the night before flooded in, and you giggled to yourself. Keeping the duck close, you removed the small note from its beak, and unfolded it. In graceful handwriting it said,

      [Thank you for last night. If you are still interested, would you like to go out for that date?  -Lucifer] 

Delight enraptured your heart as you felt butterflies, and you traced your thumb over the large glimmering signature over the bottom of the note. The burdensome worry that he wasn’t actually interested in you was chipping away. After a few moments, you pulled out your bag, and pulled out a few items to complete your response back to the king. You flipped over the napkin, finished your note, and folded the soft paper together, before looking for a flight attendant on the plane. Your small search was over as you found one was walking past a few rows checking on the flight guests, and you kindly asked her over before asking her to bring the note over to the King. With some convincing and a small payment, she finally agreed and took the note from you. 

Lucifer anxiously picked at his claws and bounced his leg as a short flight attendant strolled into first class.

       “This is for you.” 

She said straightly and handed him the slip before returning to her job. Lucifer abruptly faced her and ceased his fidgeting as he took the note back. Hope filled his soul and the others' anticipation grew, as he took in a deep breath, and unfolded the square. Warmth thrummed against his chest, as he stared down at your response.

      [I would love to.] 

A set of numbers and small mark of lipstick laid boldly next to your lettering, and Lucifer’s grin grew as he read and reread the simple note again and again.

[blue-sunflower-bee]

Oddly enough, I somehow can't let go of this crossover and Ken's and Abby's dynamic along with securitywaiter, lmao.

Just imagine...

Ken actually being Ness' childhood doll, which is currently sitting on Abby's shelf.

Ken and Abby and horses and MLP. Abby hyping him up about My little Pony would be kinda adorable.

Them having adorable tea parties with her stuffed toys, the "tea" Abby makes gotta be Ken's favorite.

Abby's curiosity about Barbieland and her actually being curious about not the Barbies but Kens and all the discontinued dolls +Allan plays a big role in Ken's healing process because she kinda helps him learn who he really is with her curious question.

Abby notices how Ken starts stuttering when she asks about Allan, but she never mentions it. But it makes her smile since it reminds her of Mike when he first mentioned Ness

Ness making a pride pin for Ken once he discovered he's pansexual

Mike offering Ken a beer and he just straight up pours it into his face because he has no idea how to drink it.

Ness being a bit too impressed by Ken's looks👀 lmao.

Ken and Abby reacting in a similar way when they see Ness and Mike kiss. While Abby be like: "Ew, cooties!" Ken would be like: "Ugh, so THIS is how humans kiss???"

Abby bought a matching bandana that looks like Ken's...just in blue instead of black

She once drew him as a my little pony. This drawing is stuck to fridge in his Mojo Dojo Casa House aka Barbie's former dream house ever since

In general, Mike's reaction would be so funny tho, cause first his sister befriends 4 possessed animatronics and now a fricking doll? He literally cant anymore

[zonigiri]

𝐆𝐎𝐉𝐎'𝐒 𝐒𝐄𝐂𝐑𝐄𝐓

pairing: gojo x f!reader

summary: inspired by this post by @gojoest and tags/addition by @kagelun. i have nothing to say for myself (sorry)

wc: 1.2k

cw: fluff, gojo being gojo & divider credits to @saradika!

a/n: wrote the outline for this fic in my 20mins break at work and finished it mostly on bus rides to and from work. felt like i needed that to be mentioned somewhere

"I hate when you do that," Gojo whined from his place on the bed, lying with his limbs spread out. He had a habit of making the queen sized bed look like a single whenever he was even partially horizontal on it.

"Do what?" you ask absentmindedly, in the middle of putting your clothes back on.

"That." 

"Toru we've been over this, I'm not moving in with you. Living with you would drive me actually insane."

You're facing away but you can feel his pout deepen. You hear the tell tale sounds of the bed squeaking and you know the menace you call your boyfriend, is making his way over to you with an impassioned defense. He might as well have flashcards with him and sometimes you wonder how if he wasn't a man-child with such ridiculous hills to die on, or the strongest sorcerer in this world, in an alternate universe he would've made a decent lawyer. 

"That's not what I was talking about but now that you've brought it up, I can think of at least 5 reasons why-" 

"Gojo," you turn to face him with a pointed stare. He withers under your gaze and your use of his formal name and you go back trying to get the clasps of your bra to get to stick to the intended hooks, instead of the one above or the one below. After a few moments of fiddling, you give up fighting a losing battle.

"Can you do my clasps?"

You look over your shoulder at Gojo, glance at your hands and look back at him expectantly. He shifts to stand behind you, fingers gentle and unsure as you feel them on your back. You let go of the straps in your hand and wait patiently. 

"This is what I meant, you know."

You tilt your head to the side a little and because over months Gojo has learned to read your little gestures like a book, he knows that despite your silence that's a sign for him to continue. Not that he ever needed one anyway.

"Why do you need to wear when you have all the support you need right here?"

Gojo cups your breasts with his large hands. You lightly smack his hands with yours but all that makes him do is give them a little squeeze. 

"Look at how much better I am at this! I can hold them exactly the way you want them to!" 

Like a child at a science fair demonstrating his beloved project, Gojo proceeds to squeeze your breasts closer together along with his words. You let out a sigh and a little shake of your head, and you decide to humour him to try and beat him at his game. 

"...plus my hands are so much warmer! And they're definitely more comfortable than some of these godawful ones." 

He glares dirtily at your open lingerie drawer. 

"That's not what you called them when I wore them for you last Friday."

"You're not playing fair," he mumbles into your neck. 

You give it some time, basking momentarily in the warmth of Gojo's body so close to yours, before you place your hands over the ones covering your breasts and kiss his fingertips. 

"Toru, I'm going to miss my bus, will you please do my clasps?" 

"Hai," he says in a drained monotone like a school child being asked to do something dreadfully boring. 

Satoru keeps his word this time and you hear the little click of the hooks attaching in place. Tugging your bra to make yourself comfortable, you turn around in his arms to place a sweet kiss on Gojo's lips, "Thank you baby."

Leaving him standing, you walk over to pick up your jumper and you quickly slip into it. While pulling up your jeans you noticed Gojo's attention had shifted and he was now inspecting the contents of your drawer. Picking up the straps of cloth and lace and trying to figure them out with the face of someone trying to solve a nuclear equation with utmost concentration.

You don't have to wait for long to know what he's thinking, you hardly do. Gojo never shies away from voicing his opinions. All of them, no matter how inane or inappropriate.

"You know, I think I'd be better at designing these."

"Yeah?" 

"Yeah! I mean you keep saying the wire hurts and…" you hear bits and pieces of what he says , his voice full of robust conviction while you finish getting ready. In the meantime, Gojo appears to have taken a serious interest in the construction of female lingerie. You didn't have the heart to explain the intricacies of women's fashion and how since ages, pain and discomfort was woven into the very fabric and principle. Not right now anyway, while you were already running late for a bus with a temperamental schedule and a history of not following it. You looked into the mirror for a last quick check to make sure everything was in place and you walked over to your boyfriend, still somewhat lost in thought. You took his face between your hands, squished him gently and kissed him after letting go.

"Bye baby, love you!"

As always Gojo's lips stay on yours for a little longer, even after you pull away. Ending kisses is not something Gojo excels at, especially not when they're with you. He pulls away reluctantly and with that, you're gone. The door behind you shuts with a little click and Gojo's left to his own devices for the day.

Later that night you're cuddled in bed with him, his limbs wrapped around you like a blanket, the only way he knows how. Gojo's voice pipes up in the dark, "You know, I think I've figured out how to make it work."

"Hm?"

"How to make the bras work without hurting. I even came up with designs, I think you'd like them." 

There's silence, but he knows you're awake and you're listening. He knows the rhythm of the way your chest rises and falls when you're asleep in his arms.

"I even came up with the name of the company."

You shuffle a little in his hold to turn to face him. Even when lying down, his face is a whole head above yours.

"Yeah? What is it?"

"Gojo's secret."

It takes a while for it to sink in and then your laughter rings out in the dead of the night. A genuine, hearty outburst at his very earnest response. It gets you an offended, "Hey! It's a good name! I mean I might run into copyright issues but I…" and Gojo pulls you closer to him in efforts to get you to listen to him seriously but you don't hear the rest of it very clearly over the sound of your own laugh. With every next word that comes out of his mouth you collapse into a fresh fit of giggles and Gojo complains that you're not listening to his flawless 7-step-plan to take over the whole industry that he spent all day thinking up. Pouty that you're not taking him seriously, despite the fact that you almost never do, Gojo untangles you (gently) from his grasp and turns around to face the other way. 

" 'm not talking to you."

You're used to his antics by now so you turn to spoon him, throwing your leg over his with abandon and slipping your hand over his chest. You hear a little "hmph" uttered under his breath without any real malice but all it does is make you squeeze him a little tighter (lovingly).

"Goodnight Toru, love you."

You press a kiss to his shoulder and shuffle in closer to him to make yourself comfortable to go to sleep. The next morning when you wake up, and you wake up earlier than Gojo does, you realize the two of you are in exactly the opposite position from when you went to bed. You're curled up against Gojo, back to his chest, and one of his hands has somehow made its way through the night to loosely cup your left breast in his large hand. 

[its-time-to-write]

I’ve always had this idea that reader is like, one of the fittest people that work at AFC Richmond, like she can hold herself in a fight. Maybe she does boxing and the team shows up to support as a surprise and they’re all like DAMN. And a certain Manchester man goes googoo over her and ALSJDISPDODJKLL I feel like in my mind it’s an idea with lots of potential behind for any character matchup and scenarios but yeah that’s it (ps I love your writing it brings me so much joy!!)

got it! thanks @coloursofyen for a) the ideas and b) keeping me on track with these last few fics.

I rage-wrote this fic bc I accidentally saw the Man City score before I had a chance to watch it. I’m very upset rn😂 Also, I know nothing about boxing.

move fast and keep quiet

Ted’s been on this thing recently, where one day of training out of every five is a “physical and mental enrichment day,” which is a fancy way of saying the team does yoga or some shit together. Recently he’s been bringing in this boxing coach for “the team’s aggressive tendencies,” in wake of the whole West Ham debacle, and no one’s quite sure if that was really the best response to the situation. Teaching AFC Richmond how to fight better? Maybe not the best idea. 

You’ve been coming once a week for a month now, teaching them how to spar on the pitch. Isaac, Jamie, and Bumbercatch are definitely the most enthusiastic about it, with the way Isaac studies each punch, Bumbercatch practices the footwork, and Jamie asks a million fucking questions every single time. 

According to Sam, he’s been an absolute menace, practicing his moves through the halls of Nelson Road.

“What is your problem?” Jan asks one day. “Can you not just walk to the gym like a regular person?”

Jamie shrugs. “Where’s the fun in that?”

It isn’t long before word goes around the dogtrack that Jamie has a crush on the boxing instructor.

“You like her,” Dani singsongs. Jamie doesn’t deny it. 

“She’s mad fit. Even her smile,” Jamie defends.

He’s not exactly wrong. The team starts an unofficial countdown until their next training session, and are disappointed to walk into the regular setup when the day rolls around. There’s a whiteboard with a new play from Roy and Beard, and the whole team barely tries to hide their disappointment.

“Oi, where’s Jamie’s girlfriend?” Isaac asks the moment Ted walks in.

“She’s not my girlfriend,” Jamie interjects.

Ted points to Jamie. “We’ll unpack that later. For now, I need you fellas to get ready to run this new play Coach Beard and Roy have cooked up. I want everyone ready to show a lotta teamwork.”

Richard raises his hand. “Coach, where is Jamie’s girlfriend?”

Jamie puts his head in his hands and says, “She ain’t my girlfriend, lad,” but it doesn’t matter. The name is going to stick.

Ted says, “She’s busy training for a match tomorrow, but she’ll be back next week. She told me to tell you all that she hopes you can come watch.”

Sam loudly whispers, “You mean she hopes Jamie will come watch,” and the rest of the team says oooh.

“Fuck off,” Jamie replies, but he’s blushing.

—

They end up commandeering the team bus. 

The fight is… well, let’s just say it’s convinced Jamie that he needs to make the “girlfriend” jokes a reality. He will never admit how smitten you make him, what with the way you’re dodging and weaving, wiping sweat from your brow as your braids fly. But when it’s all over and you’re announced the winner, he’s almost positive you can hear him cheering over the rest of the crown because he’s just so damn happy.

The team waits around while the rest of the arena clears out, but Jamie can’t wait. He slips away from the group and asks a security guard where he can find you. The guard looks at him and states, “You’re Jamie Tartt.”

“Yeah,” Jamie responds, unsure of what else to say because it wasn’t exactly a question.

“She said you could come back. Follow me,” grunts the guard. Jamie turns around to make eye contact with Sam before hurrying after the security guard.

“In here.” The guard points to a door then leaves Jamie alone, staring at your name printed on a metal plaque. Shit, how good must you be to have your name here?

He knocks once and hears you call, “Come in,” so he pushes the door open. You’re sitting on the floor downing a bottle of water, still sweaty. There’s a bit of blood dried to your forehead and Jamie is a little worried that he finds it sexy.

You smile at him and pat the floor next to you.

“I’d get up, but I’m really fucking tired,” you say. “She got me good.”

Jamie slides onto the floor next to you. “You were fuckin’ amazing,” he says. “Made me rethink my whole career.”

You wheeze out a laugh. “With the way you run your mouth? You’d get brained in a week. I make sure none of my partners hate me. Me ’n the girl you saw tonight are going out to lunch tomorrow.”

Oh. That’s new information for Jamie. He’s trying to figure out if you mean lunch as a friend thing, or if you’re going on a date. Shit. Maybe this was a bad idea.

You nudge him with your shoulder. “Oi, what’s your deal? Upset you’re stuck as a sad little footballer when you could be getting punched out on the daily like me?”

Jamie shakes his head. “Nah. Just thinking how cool it were tonight.”

You grin and take another swig of water. “Hey, you wanna take me out on a date?”

Jamie chokes on air. After a moment he manages to cough, “Sorry, what?” and you shrug.

“Told myself if you came back here after the match I’d ask you out. I let security know you could come back if you wanted, and I figured you might be kinda fucking interested if you tried to get back here without me inviting you.”

“Uh huh,” Jamie says, still trying to get his breath back.

You look at him sideways. “Is that a yes? It’s all good if not.”

“No, yes!” Jamie says. “It’s yes. Where do you want to go? When’re you available? We could do something tonight if you want.”

You make a face. “I’m absolutely knackered. I was planning on going home to take a nice long shower and then passing out.”

Jamie nods. Right. Sounds logical.

“You could join me,” you suggest, and Jamie chokes for the second time.

“Jesus, Tartt, you’re excitable,” you tease. “It’s just a shower and some sleep. Although I might be convinced that I didn’t get enough cardio in tonight. Depends on if you’re willing to drive me home so I can nap.”

“Done,” Jamie says immediately. “Let’s get the fuck out of here.” 

You grin as he pulls you up off the floor. “Oh,” you say, studying his perfect lips, “one more thing before we go…”

[homeofthelonelywriter]

Drawn to you | Pt. 4

(A/N) This one's a bit shorter, but I hope you like it! Also, thank you so much for 2500 Followers!!! Aaaahhhh I love all of you so much!

Pairing: Alastor x bunny demon!Reader (no Y/N)

Warnings: flashback to life on earth, sexism

Synopsis: Your life back on Earth.

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 | Part 5 | Part 6 | Part 7 | Part 8

Earth - 1920

“You’re late.”

You raised your head to look into the glaring eyes of your boss. The fat, old man regarded you with a scowl before turning around and stomping towards his office.

“I-I’m sorry Sir. The bus was full, so I had to wait for the next one, and-”

He turned to face you again, his face red with anger.

“I don’t care! You are paid to be here on time! The next time you’re late, I’ll cut it from your paycheck, understood?”

You frantically nodded while holding your breath. Pointing out that you were actually twenty minutes early and just ten minutes late from your usual thirty minutes early, would just enrage the man even more.

With another huff, the man walked into his office and slammed the door, making you jump at the sudden, loud noise. You sighed and quietly made your way to your workstation, where you sat up for the day. You smiled at your colleagues that passed and led pleasant small talk with the ones that stopped for a chat. But the whole day went by without you seeing your favorite person even once.

Not that he had to stop by or anything, but he sometimes did and those were always the best moments of the day. He held such a passion for this job, it always infected you, made you hold on to the dream of one day being a host yourself.

But in your heart, you knew that that dream was foolish. A woman? A radio host? That would never happen. If you were lucky, maybe you could become the secretary, but your voice would never be aired live. At least not in this century.

With a sigh, you got to work. You quickly wrote up the weather report for the day, before handing it over to your boss, who would give the final go. After that you filed through letters and parcels, delivering them to where they needed to go.

You were basically done with your day’s work and it wasn’t even time for lunch. So, you decided to work on your dream some more. Whenever you had free time, you’d type out what you would do if you were the host. Corny jokes and funny advertisements. You’d make a list of the songs you’d play and what you’d be talking about.

Your shoulders slumped as you finished your dream program, the realization that that would never happen, catching up to you. Sometimes you wondered if playing into the dream made reality harder to bear. You still continued your wishful thinking, lost in a dream where you were calling the shots and where you would yell at fat, old men.

Two hands suddenly covering your eyes pulled you back to reality and a grin took over your lips.

“Guess who?”

You chuckled, trying to think of a witty response.

“Oh, Samantha, is that you?”

The laugh that escaped the man behind you made your heart race and butterflies erupt in your belly.

“Would you prefer it being Samantha?”

You shook your head with a smile and the hands lowered until they rested on your shoulders. With a wide grin, you spun in your chair, to come face to face with your favorite person.

“Now, how is my favorite lady doing?”

You rolled your eyes as he guided your right hand to his lips, before pressing a chaste kiss to your knuckles.

“Ah, you know, same old, same old. Got my work done within two hours, wrote down my concept for the day and it’s not even lunchtime, got yelled at by boss-man once again,-”

The usually smiling host’s expression hardened when you mentioned the fat, old man. He glared in the direction of his office. If looks could kill, that man would be dead.

“Someone ought to take care of that bastard.”

With wide eyes, you raised your hands against the man’s mouth to shush him.

“You can’t just say stuff like that. You’ll get fired.”

He turned back to you with his signature smile.

“If I were to get fired for protecting you, it would be worth it.”

You felt your cheeks heat up at his words and quickly lowered your head, a coy smile playing on your lips. Your reaction caused the man to chuckle, before carefully ruffling through your hair. A complaint crossed your lips at his action and he stopped with a playful laugh, before helping you to fix your hair.

“So, what’s on your agenda today?”

You grabbed the pieces of paper and went through the different points you had written up, ending on the big story you’d talk about, were you in any kind of position to.

“Congress is supposed to vote on the 19th amendment in a few days. I really hope it gets signed.”

The man nodded thoughtfully, taking notes in his head. He was about to say something when his name was called from the other end of the office space.

“Gotta run, will you tune in tonight?”

He was already walking away, still facing you.

“I always do.”

He grinned, before turning around and running to where he was being summoned, leaving you with a soft smile and a racing heart.

By the time you had to clock out, you were sure you were dying of boredom. It was bad enough that you had considered asking for more work, but thankfully you made it through the day without. You quickly put on your gloves and hat, before you left the radio station and made your way home.

As soon as you entered your apartment, you hurried to the old radio in your kitchen and turned it on, just in time to hear him introducing himself.

“Welcome ladies and gentlemen to the evening show. I’m your host, as usual, Alastor!”

Hell - now

“Why don’t you remember me?”

@impulsivethoughtsat2am @dasimp777 @fanficwriter5 @wonderlandangelsposts

Please consider reblogging and following me! It helps a lot!

Hazbin Hotel - Masterlist

Master-Masterlist

[peachesyeo]

8/9... 8/8 - ATEEZ OT8 part two

THIS IMAGINE IS MATURE! MINORS DO NOT INTERACT!

⊹ 1.6k words ⊹ friends!ateez x fem!reader (ft. straykids) ᭡ angst, mature. (+ fluff brought to you by straykids)

✧ a/n: i didn't expect so many people to like this work???? i wrote it in a span of two hours because i was feeling super depressed and wow, you guys gave me a huge surprise! thank you..? anyway, there won't be a part three. if you guys are inspired feel free to extend the lore and universe (:

p.s. the 1117 series will be rewritten!!!!!!!

thank you @sousydive for beta reading. thank you @ja3hwa for the banner (I LOVE YOU AS MUCH AS MY BLOOD VESSELS)

⊂ content: name calling, broken friendship. probably the start of a universe.

✦ network: @newworldnet

:̗̀➛ 𝐛𝐚𝐜𝐤 𝐭𝐨 𝐦𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭? :̗̀➛ 𝐛𝐚𝐜𝐤 𝐭𝐨 𝐦𝐚𝐢𝐧 𝐩𝐚𝐠𝐞? :̗̀➛ 𝐣𝐨𝐢𝐧 𝐦𝐲 𝐭𝐚𝐠𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭? (for all works)

those who asked to be tagged: @vixensss @anxiousskylar @spenceatiny18 @kitkat1sstuff

The stormy clouds gathered, hiding the golden rays of the sun. You had run a distance away from the cafe, from Jongho, and you stopped, panting. 

A slut. You laughed, a shrill sound escaping your throat as thunder clapped overhead. 

You have been bearing that name anyway. From high school, to university. People assumed that you were the boy’s personal whore, being close to them and all. All kinds of nicknames were thrown in your direction. 

Whore. Slut. Used. Dirty. A common bus.

The boys didn’t know. They didn’t know that the girls would laugh at you while you were using the restroom. They didn’t know that men have come up to you, asking you how much you charge per night. They didn’t know the looks you received when the boys weren't looking.

You let out a sound between a sob and a laugh. 

Something wet hit you. Once. Twice. Droplets of rain fell, mixing in with the tears that were rolling down your face. Your tracksuit slowly turned wet, as you made your way home in a daze.

Eight years. 

You love the boys like your brothers. For eight years. To you, they are family. 

“Y/n!”

Someone pulled you by the arm. You turned around to see a worried Felix, who dragged you with him. He pulled you to the nearest shelter, where Bang Chan and Jisung stood waiting. 

“Y/n? Are you okay?” Jisung asked, as Felix fussed over you. Bang Chan was calling someone on his phone, sounding anxious. You nodded your head in a daze, your fingers gripping on Felix’s sleeve like you were holding on to your lifeline. 

“Wanna go home, Lixie.” Your voice was small. You stared ahead of you without any focus in your eyes. Jisung rubbed your shoulders, trying to warm you up. “Hey, Y/n, you here with me?”

You slowly looked over at Jisung. “Sungie..?” You whispered the nickname they had allowed you to call after just one week of hanging out with them. “Yeah, I’m here, Y/n.” Jisung answered carefully, his heart breaking at the sight of the tears in your eyes.

Felix sighed, pulling you into his arms. He doesn’t seem to care about his shirt getting wet, patting you gently as he speaks. “It’s okay to cry, Y/n.”

You leaned into his arms, your shoulders shaking as you sobbed quietly. Chan approached the three of you, his voice gentle. “Y/nnie, is it okay if we bring you home?” You got out of Felix’s embrace, nodding as you wiped your eyes. “Y-yeah. Thank you.”

Minho was fussing over you like a mother hen. 

“Absolutely not, Y/n. Yongbokkie and I will manage the kitchen, Bin will stay here and take care of you - and where is Hwang Hyunjin?” He barked. You giggled as Jisung pulled a face behind his back, while Changbin dried your hair with a towel. 

Felix appeared, holding a cup of tea. “Ginger tea, Y/nnie. Keeps you warm.” You accept the tea gratefully from him, taking a huge sip. “Thanks, Lixie.”

“No problem.” He smiled, heading back towards the kitchen. Hyunjun appeared with snacks, scowling at Minho as he placed them in front of you. “Don’t need to rush me, Mother.” Minho rolled his eyes, shahaying back into the kitchen. Changbin snorted, patting your almost dried hair. “Just stay here and eat snacks with Jinnie, Jisung and the two idiots there, Y/n. Don’t worry about anything, you need comfort and cuddles now.”

“Only one idiot here and it’s not me, hyung. But Jongho is such a bitch for saying that.” On the other couch, Seungmin commented, ignoring Jeongin’s glare and reached for the snacks in front of you. Your smile faltered as Jisung smacked Seungmin’s hands. “Minnie!”

“What?” Seungmin scowled at the older man, rubbing his arm. “I was just telling the truth, Y/n needs to know how fake they are anyways.” He grabbed the snack with his other hand as you shifted uncomfortably in your seat. Changbin rubbed your shoulders comfortingly. “Do you want to hear about this, Y/n?”

You bit your lip. “I.. don’t know, Binnie. They’ve been my friends - my only friends, for a long time. I just thought… If they had a problem with me, they should have told me sooner. I can change!” You gripped the cup tightly in your hands. “It just hurts. We are adults, but-”

“Hey, Y/nnie. Look at me.” Hyunjin put his palms on your cheeks, gently turning you to face him. “I know how you are feeling, Y/n. But it’s okay. You have us now.” He said slowly, as you blink the tears away. “We’ll be here for you, Y/n.”

Jisung sighed loudly. Suddenly, he felt something vibrating. Frowning, he felt around the couch, finally fishing out your phone from under a pillow. Checking to see if you were paying attention, Jisung discreetly slipped the phone into his back pocket. He signaled Changbin, who nodded and gave a meaningful look to Hyunjin. The younger cleared his throat, patting your hair. “You wanna see something fun? We have an album full of Innie’s ugly photos.”

While the youngest protested loudly, Jisung took the chance to sneak into the kitchen. Minho, who was busy over the stove, looked up at him lazily. “What is it?”

Jisung snorted at your phone screen. “Trouble.” He said, answering the call. 

“Hello? Y/nnie? Are you okay?” The caller rattled at lightning speed, not even giving Jisung a chance to speak. “Look, I heard about Jongho, he didn’t mean it. He’s feeling bad about it too, Y/nnie.” 

“She’s not here, you idiot.” Jisung leaned against the countertop, looking at his nails. The person on the other line paused, his voice lowering a few octaves. “Who are you?”

“Han Jisung. To think I’ll ever hear your voice again, Kang Yeosang.”

“Is Y/n with you?”

“Why do you care? Aren’t you guys tired of her?” Felix turned, looking at Jisung, who had a dark look on his face. “She was supposed to be our friend anyways, if Jung Wooyoung hadn’t been so thick-skinned and took credit for Jinnie’s work, Y/n would have been with us eight years ago.”

“...”

“Cat got your tongue?” Jisung raised a brow, as silence filled Yeosang’s line. “Y/n’s not a toy, Kang Yeosang. If you guys don't treasure her, we will."

“What did she say?” Mingi asked eagerly as Yeosang put down his phone. The older man looked towards Jongho, who was sitting in the middle of the couch with a distant expression. “She should be angry, Jongho said those words after all-”

“She didn’t answer. Han Jisung did.” Yeosang’s voice was small. Wooyoung, who had been really quiet after hearing Jongho’s story, stood up and left the room. San frowned in worry, following after the younger as Yeosang continued. “I think they are taking care of her.”

Silence. 

“I’ll go ask her at work.” Hongjoong decided eventually. “Let’s just give her some time and space… We were in the wrong after all.” 

Yeosang knew that that was the end of the conversation about Y/n. He looked towards Seonghwa, who was furiously typing away on his phone. He then lowered his eyes, a ridiculous feeling spreading over him. 

You’re one of them, Kang Yeosang. Too late for you to be regretting. 

Hwa Oppa: Y/nnie?

Hwa Oppa: Are you there?

Hwa Oppa: Look, I’m really sorry about this. Hwa Oppa: Can we talk? Hwa Oppa: Please reply to me if you saw this message, Y/nnie. ASAP.

The notifications had been coming in for hours. You ignored them, enjoying your time chatting with Jisung and Hyunjin. The boys made you stay for lunch and dinner, and when Bang Chan sent you home, you finally read the messages from Seonghwa. 

Your finger hovered over the screen hesitantly. Jongho must have told Seonghwa what happened, there were a couple of missed calls from Yeosang, Yunho and Hongjoong, a long message from Mingi and San sending you gifs to see if you would reply. There was nothing from Wooyoung, but for some reason, you didn’t feel angry. 

Nor were you sad. 

It was as if, it does not matter to you anymore. 

They do not matter to you anymore.

You: Hey Seonghwa oppa, sorry that I was busy. 

Hwa Oppa: It’s alright. Could we call? Talk? Or would you prefer texting?

You: Sure.

Seonghwa cleared his throat as he tapped the dial button. A few rings later, you picked up. He licked his lips dryly. “Y/nnie?” 

“Hey.” Your voice seemed lighter compared to his. Seonghwa gripped his phone tightly. “How are you?”

“Funny you asked about that, Seonghwa oppa.” Your voice was no longer the affectionate one Seonghwa was used to. In fact, it was one you used to speak with acquaintances. “It does not matter to you, does it?”

“I’m sorry-” “On behalf of Jongho? It’s clear to me that he had that thought in him long ago, Seonghwa. Throughout highschool, I’ve been called a whore for hanging out with you guys. Seems like I am really one to you, huh?”

Seonghwa couldn’t speak. Silence hung between the both of you, until he broke it in a small voice. 

“I never thought of you that way, I swear, Y/n.”

“And I don’t think I can face any of you after this, Seonghwa.” 

“But you have to listen to me, Lee Minho and his friends are-” “And why does it matter to you, Seonghwa? That is my problem now. Don’t you hate it when I complain to you about my worries? Didn’t you think it was annoying?” You shot back, your voice turning agitated. “So stop pretending you’re caring, Seonghwa.”

Seonghwa wants to cry. He didn’t mean to say what he did, he blames it on the alcohol he had. He did feel annoyed when you were complaining to him and all, but he never saw you as a whore nor a slut.

“And the others too. I won’t reply to them, tell Hongjoong not to bother me at work if he doesn’t want me to quit.” 

The line went silent. 

Outside the door, Wooyoung lowered his head. A smirk crawled to his lips as he tiptoed away back to his room. Once the door closed behind him, he fished out his phone, hands on his lips to muffle his laughter. 

On the screen, another Wooyoung was banging on the white walls, screaming for help. Wooyoung watched him for a while, before switching his phone off. His eyes flashed red, as he spoke to no one in particular. 

“Stage one, completed.”

➳ pernament taglist: @sousydive @yeodeulz @oddracha @jaerisdiction @yukichan67 @evidive @onysmamas

spoiler alert: start of a new strayteez universe?

[manicpixiefelix]

head, heart, hand. {Felix Catton/Reader/Oliver Quick}

Part 16.

Summary: In which we observe a few nights during the first week of the Summer at Saltburn while you set your plan into motion for putting on a show for Oliver. You don't tell Farleigh about the plan despite definitely using him in it, because you reason that he'd only object because he still loudly hates Oliver whenever he can. You... don't think too hard about all of the ethics of this. But there's also a lot you don't think about. Anyways, what Farleigh doesn't know won't hurt him.

{ masterpost }

Need to Know: They/Them. Explicitly NB Reader. FWB!Reader/Felix. Reader is from a well off family but has pretty much been adopted by the Cattons.

Warnings: SMUT; Farleigh/Reader(/Oliver kind of). Dom!Reader, praise kink, no AGAB specified for the reader, brief mention of oral (M receiving), implied voyeurism and also implied non-consensual voyeurism, degradation, choking, discussions about the reader's sex life and about whether or not their partners get them off.

A/N: 3193 words. not to be hit by the fic writer's curse but sorry this chapter is late i had a seizure for the first time in my life on a main road by the bus stop and was hospitalized for four days. this was going to be longer but i wrote and rewrote the "ending" and neither fit right so i said fuck it. very nsfw chapter and we get to love farleigh a bit more. LOVE YOU!!

TAGLIST IN COMMENTS!! // TAGLIST ALWAYS OPEN ! (just message or comment to be added)

----

So it was definitely working.

And after you'd explained it to Felix, he was more than on board.

Farleigh was of the opinion that Felix monopolized too much of your time whenever you were away from the Estate, so he would never complain about your sudden increased desire to be pressed against him as you lay about the property. Likewise, Venetia had absolutely no complaints about the contact. Venetia relishes the contact, and not that she'd ever say it, but she'd wrap herself around your shoulders like a mink coat for hours at a time if you'd let her.

You know Oliver's eyes are on you often in the early days, the first week at Saltburn. His gaze burns you in the days, and he finds you in the lilac study at night.

At first it's innocent enough; you'd left a copy of Saltburn: The Art of Saltburn House, The Catton Collection on his bedside, to help him familiarise himself with the history of the Estate and the antiquities therein. You sit at the desk, looking through your dossier, he curls up like a cat on one end of the off-white, leather sofa beneath the window. He looks beautiful in the moonlight.

"You're watching me," Oliver murmurs. He looks like a dream, shirtless, relaxed against the sofa, painted beautiful and blue by the clear night sky. You sigh softly, apologising faintly but insincerely as you reach past your dossier to the pack of cigarettes resting there. Its Oliver's turn to watch you once more, book closed in his lap where he waits for you to join him. You open the window, sitting on the back of the sofa, half on the windowsill.

Oliver leans forward, looking up at you with those beautiful blue eyes of his as he asks you about the dossier. You explain about the various events, big and small, that Saltburn plays host to over the Summer. You explain rather clinically about your interest in the guests, while keeping your mouth shut on any information about your own parents out of habit.

The next night, you forgo the desk entirely and simply sit on the sofa, window open, lamp on behind you. Oliver sits, and you stretch your legs out over him, invading his space without looking up, but blithely telling him that he's free to ask you to move. One of his hands holds your ankles, crossed in his lap, secure as he braces his book against your shins.

You've become acutely attuned to the way Oliver thinks he's skulking around Saltburn. As quiet as he tries to be, he'll never be able to out-fox you here. The Cattons and Farleigh? Most definitely, but you? Well, not since you spent a full year trying to convince Duncan to let you join the staff for events. Neither he nor Elspeth had agreed, but the skills you'd taught yourself made you a sometimes uncanny presence in the house even to this day.

But you appreciate that Oliver's aiming for subtlety, even if he doesn't meet his mark; it makes him easier to ignore on purpose.

There's the barest shift and creak outside of Farleigh's room the night he invites you back to drink wine and hang out. Considering the artistic inclinations of his own immediate family, Farleigh had often found a great deal of solace in you and the stories you could tell him if your grandmother, a great artist in her own right. Many nights were spent in Farleigh's room, drinking, listening to music, and painting across each other's skin before it devolved into a mess of another kind.

This third night, you hear the faint groan of the floorboards, the creak of the barest weight against the other side of the door. You tell Farleigh he's beautiful as you ride him, rocking back and forth in his lap, and you wonder if Oliver can tell the painting on your back is a dreamy field of wildflowers through the keyhole.

Gorgeous boy, so good - fuck Fars, you feel so good - you tell him as he grips you tight, paint smearing across your hips and thighs. You're the one covered in his art, but you call him breath-taking with absolute sincerity. Part of it is of course a show for Oliver, but you can't deny your genuine affection for Farleigh. His bitchy shell gave way to so few people that you considered the moments in which he'd relinquish control to you to be rather special.

Plucking control and responsibility from him while lavishing him with affection was something you delighted in. The shallow doting of fair-weather friends and short term partners was something Farleigh was used to, but you knew he was worth - and capable of - so much more than that.

While you were more than capable - and he was more than willing - for you to bark orders, push him around, make him kneel and obey your every whim, you knew all too well that you had all Summer to show off. Not that you wanted these games to drag on that long.

The bed rocks with your consistent rhythm, so you can hear the way weight shifts just outside the door, but doesn't move. A thought occurs to you, a new script, a new hook -

"Ollie thinks you treat me badly," you tease loud enough you know your voice will carry, but leaning in to press yourself to Farleigh, braced over him to keep him on his back despite the irritation in his eyes the minute they flick open. Still, you carry on before he can comment, despite how much you know he wants to, "he even asked how we got -" you moaned faintly for effect, settling yourself on him for the moment, hips pressed flush, his hands on your ass, "close," your smile widens, "considering, how awfully mean you can be to me." You pout, putting on the act thickly enough that it gets Farleigh to smile despite himself.

"You need to tell me this now?" Hands sliding up your body, Farleigh's hips begin to roll, taking over from you, fucking you softly as he takes your face in his hands. The touch is tender, more gentle than he'd ever allow if he knew he had an actual audience. Perhaps you should feel bad for using him like this, but you tell yourself that Farleigh will understand. If he ever finds out.

Still, the more you think about it, the more it... bothers you. Oliver's voice in your ear.

You need to be needed. Want to be wanted.

Farleigh stops. There's genuine concern in his face as he holds your face close. But it's his voice too, casually cruel to the entire roster of your past sexual exploits without giving you a moment to really think about it.

You rate sex by how good you can make your partner feel.

Maybe that's all you were to Farleigh, just like Venetia; a warm body you weren't related to. Be a partner in crime, someone he could bitch to about the finer irritations he suffered under the Cattons, someone he could fuck when he felt bored or unwanted. An affectionate little imp who'd accept his every apology, who'd still let him get away with feeling like he had the moral high ground. The dog forever at the foot of his metaphorical bed.

But was that not enough? How could you say he did not love you, not care about you, not look out for you? It's there in his eyes in this moment, these brief few seconds that to you have felt like a lifetime.

Pushing down the urge to ask the kinds of questions that would give real answers, but would complicate things tremendously, you let yourself lean into the messy, shameful lust that pits low in your belly, burning as you think of Oliver, though you've lost track of if he was still there, you have hope. It's his voice once more, from this morning this time, the praise he'd so casually offered. It that spurs you on.

"Tell me I'm good," shifting your focus back onto Farleigh, it comes out as almost an order. Your companion takes a moment to reassess the situation, smile lighting up his face when he's finally sure your behaviour isn't worrying.

"Of course you're good, you're you -" he laughs, but you sit back up, taller this time and out of his grip, hand braced on his chest as you level thin, cold smile at him, playing far more into the dominant role than you had been earlier.

"Exactly," and your hips begin to move again; you think you can actually feel Farleigh shiver with sudden anticipation, "tell me I'm good, Farleigh," you drag your nails down his chest, "make me believe it." The words escape him in a hiss as you clench down on him, tight and sensitive as your hips pick up the pace. Hearing the words begin to spill from him like a prayer unlocks something deep within you, a want you hadn't even realised you had. Recognition. Praise.

"Don't fucking lie to me, Farleigh," hand finding his throat, you press firmly to the sensitive pulse points in the way you know he likes, and he actually whimpers, tries to shake his head that he's not. Agonisingly slowly, you leaned in. You know he's close, he's begging and whining as much as he's affording you praise, so you dare not stop. It's a messy kiss that you plant on him, all teeth and shared, desperate breath, his lip between your teeth to the point he actually yelps and you let go.

"You ever call me a dog again," you whisper into his ear dangerous and seductive all at once as you have him where you want him, "you'd better make sure you call me a good one," and you bite gently at his ear as he swears, "now it's your turn to be good for me."

Reaching between you both, as you pull yourself off of Farleigh's desperate, all but twitching cock, your hand takes over for the half second it takes you to move down him, to let him finish in your mouth, all but singing your praises.

Farleigh's quiet and rather giggly in the afterglow, sharing a cigarette with you. The tension leaves you as his fond teasing returns. You don't hear any sign of Oliver beyond the door in these moments; you don't think you hear him leave, so he must be gone already. You wonder just how much he stuck around for; you wonder if he'll ever let on.

That night you stay with him, talking and joking about nothing and everything, and the fears you had about your place in his life matter less and less with each passing moment. Head on his shoulder, reading the last Harry Potter book with him in the early hours of the morning, you think any pet should feel lucky to be half as loved as you were by Farleigh and Venetia. Even if they had a strange way of showing it.

Ever true to form, there's absolutely no indication at breakfast that anything remotely note worthy happened the night before. These trysts had been occurring for so long at this point that as long as it was confined to the private quarters of one of the four - now five, you supposed - youth of Saltburn, everyone else pretended to feign ignorance. It was simply a truth of life at Saltburn; death, taxes, and you knowing Felix, Venetia, and Farleigh biblically since high school. So if there was to be a reaction, it would be from the exact person you were hoping would give one.

Oliver.

His gaze does linger on you over breakfast, but it's strangely unreadable. For a long while he watches your hands, but you don't call him out, or draw attention to the fact that you know; you let him stare. You let him watch as you have resolved to do.

Okay, there is one point where your hands drift into a lewd, sexual gesture while you're busy making plans with the others to head to the field for the day, and when you glance back at Oliver he's pink around the ears when he guiltily meets your gaze. The smile you flash him, so quickly that no-one else sees it, is wicked. Even if he seems to grow further embarrassed, you're pretty sure he's focusing straight down on his food to hide a smile.

"What kind of pervert do you take me for?" Felix mutters, despite the flush on his cheeks in the golden afternoon sunshine as Farleigh continues to tease him while you three and Venetia settled into the field, waiting for Oliver.

"Like you aren't even the slightest bit curious about the only other dick to get Y/N off besides you," Farleigh smirked, even as Venetia gasped with a kind of scandalised glee, and you practically screeched with fury, berating him with a flurry of smacks against his shoulder.

"Not true!" You clarified immediately, looking to Felix, who had slid his sunglasses down his nose to give you an incredulously amused look. You could feel yourself growing more flustered by the moment, but you're not exactly sure why. Surely - if it were true, which it decidedly is not - it would be just an awful reflection on your past partners, "and if it were, which it... mostly isn't," you stuck your nose in the air, giving Farleigh a final shove, "wouldn't you just be writing your own shit review with that lie?"

"How can it be mostly true?" Venetia's eyes are alight with intrigue as she fully rolls over to get closer to you and the boys, propping her chin on her hand as she dedicates her focus to you. Farleigh's actually kicking his feet and giggling, the bloody shit-stirrer.

"I told you that in fucking confidence," you snapped to Farleigh in what was more a stage whisper than anything else. Farleigh's giggling turns to cackling.

"So what I was told," Felix sits back with a smug little smile and a tone that you knew could only mean he was about to be a menace, "was that Ollie was so good that none of our friends," his grin grows wider in the face of your pouting, "Farleigh included, I'd assume, would believe you if you'd told them." Smug bastard; if he put half as much effort into studying as he did to remembering stupid shit you say about your hook ups, you wouldn't have had to go in and change nearly as many of his marks in the system.

"I get off!" You defended your past self, though it almost sounds embarrassed, but the ridiculousness of the situation sets the others off snickering, "people other than Fi, and, yeah, Ollie," you admitted awkwardly, "get me off- have gotten me off! Both of you cunts have gotten me off! You were there!" By now they're all practically cackling, and you let your embarrassment wane and let yourself get caught up in the laughter too.

As your coming down, it's a lot easier to admit without feeling self conscious.

"He got me off first is all," you lay back in the tall grass, lighting up a cigarette with an easy smile, "which, yeah, is admittedly a rare enough occurrence that it made whatever counts as mine and Farleigh's news cycle," you snorted.

"Seriously?" You hear Felix's incredulous voice and you sigh, admitting that while, yeah, that list consists of him and Oliver, it's also not that big of a deal, that you have your fun. But Felix isn't talking to you; "no, seriously," he's looking between Venetia and Farleigh like he's personally offended, "how long have you two been fucking my best mate and you haven't even had the decency to -"

"I keep track," Farleigh insists, which, yeah he actually did, "I repay back every one that I promise," his hand over his heart like this is anything close to serious. Propping yourself up on your elbows, you see Felix is still wearing a severely unimpressed look at them both, and despite the ludicrous situation, something about his indignation on your behalf melts something in your heart. It's almost like he can tell; without even looking at you he reaches out and rests a hand on your shin beside him.

"And a very worked up lesbian in Montreal told me I was a pillow princess," Venetia says in that same tone as Farleigh, as if her words were any kind of justification.

"I have follow up questions," Farleigh, however, immediately takes the bait, if only to steer the conversation away from Felix's frustration at them both, "how did you know she was a lesbian and why were you arguing?"

"The answer to both is that we weren't arguing," Venetia tells him smugly, voice laden thick with inuendo. Felix makes a face, but lets them go about their conversation without further interruption from him, despite his continued discomfort with the news he'd just learned about you.

Sitting up beside him, you mirror him, knees up to your chest, but you tuck your arm in his and bump your forehead against his cheek.

"Feels kinda gross to know about you," you hear Felix mumble, though almost immediately he clarifies, "you're not gross," he's speaking low enough that only you can hear, "everyone else is," he jerks his head towards Venetia and Farleigh before he leans back against you, "they're gross."

"Lucky I have you and Ollie then," you murmur with a chuckle, but are met with silence. Felix lets out a long sigh, and you know him well enough to know what's on his mind, "you so are curious about Ollie," you poked him in the ribs with a sly grin. Felix snorted, pressing a kiss to your forehead instead of answering. You know all too well that he's blushing by now, attempting to hide most of it from his perverse family members by keeping close to you.

Venetia and Farleigh for their part have shifted over, given you both more space as the gossiping had come to an end. As it always seemed to be, the last two to remain unreasonably close were you and Felix.

"What made him different from everyone else wasn't his dick, for the record," you murmured as you were going through the picnic basket, searching for something cold in the afternoon heat. Felix the only one close enough to have heard your quiet aside, looks at you with intrigue; how does he not get it? You give him a strange little smile, "it's... that he was Oliver." Felix frowns a little, as if trying to decipher what you're trying to tell him. Instead you shrug and unwrap and ice lolly, gaze focusing on where you can finally see Oliver on the horizon; you wave, but keep your voice low as you add to Felix.

"There's no dick that's going to cure world hunger by itself, you know?"

And no, at the time Felix doesn't exactly understand what you mean by that. Yet.

[winonaparadise]

short story 💯

wrote a very quick story about a class i took in college. if you like my writing in my videos you may like this

Five years ago today I was clawing through state university. I had switched majors in an effort to come away with something more material from my college experience – but I was also trying to earn as many credits with as few courses to keep my schooling short and cheap.

I took a heavy weighted class in “media law.” A subject notoriously as intricate as it is absolutely fucking stupid. Anything you could learn, Disney will change tommorrow. The professor was an adjunct, splitting his time between the humble basement where boys with Pulp Fiction posters in their dorms fiddled with cameras and the actual law school where he was employed some miles down the road. I have never seen Pulp Fiction, but I’ve fiddled with enough cameras and enough of the boys who own them to have reviewed it twice. This is not a problem to me now.

Then I was stupid. Twenty. And basically friendless. I spent all my time trying to make something the same way the universe spent billions of years pouring hot soup into holes and hoping life would bubble out. I studied Japanese during quiet matches of PlayerUnknown’s Battlegrounds. I never got a win, and I never got an “A” in Japanese.

Weeks of school went by as I skimmed textbooks, got high, and thought about talking to literally anyone. Academic words danced around the edges of my brain like sand. I wrote essays on the same autopilot I write today. Feverish. Flowing. Fantasizing about what it would be like to go out with someone instead of texting a girl who now lived in Japan and making ramen noodles while listening for footsteps in a digital warzone.

I did all my work. I submitted it on something called “canvas” that the muscle memory in my fingers still types in search bars to this day. I never checked my grades. I knew they were bad.

Classes dragged me through the week on a bungee cord. I lived a block away from the bulk of them and found myself drifting in halls of buildings I’d never attended just to keep myself from meandering back home to draw a bad comic about a girl who lived in hell. 

I knew nobody. I went nowhere. I struggled to do classwork alone on outdoor benches dreaming of someone speaking to me. I needed to live in hell instead.

My media law professor was late the weekend after our first term essays were due. I don’t know what mode of transportation he took to get from one school to the other but today the Carolina sun had drenched him sweaty. We were chilly waiting for him to begin.

“Just about every single one of you failed.” He spat and chugged coffee through the entire period. “While I first was grading I thought I was the one who failed.”

He didn’t let the moment of respite last. “But I also did something I’ve never done before.” He paced like my father did when a restaurant was closed early. “I gave out my first perfect score. Which prevents me from grading on a curve.”

He huffed, he assigned a new reading, and he rushed out like he had lit dynamite. “Do better!” “What an asshole.” The girl who sat next to me in every class spoke as if she had been holding her breath. “Fuck him and fuck whoever got that hundred.”

“I know right!” I launched in on her anger, feeling it too. Back and forth we complained. We walked off campus together. She had long blonde hair and towered over me. I had felt ugly and mousey next to her, but today I felt like her equal. It felt good to bitch.

“I got a fucking 50. What about you?”

“It wasn’t pretty.” I recalled how I stayed up the night before the assignment was due. I milked bullshit into a puree. I got a rush of adrenaline from killing someone with a shotgun through a door in an abandoned house on the outskirts of Pochinki. I was probably close to being expelled. “This class is too fucking hard,” she smoked and shook her head by a bus stop on Tate Street. “I’m not about to lose my freetime over it.”

“Right.” I imagined her at parties. Black silhouettes against colored lights and deafening music. Like The Social Network. “We should be partners for the next assignment,” she got out her phone and passed it to me for my number. I typed it in. I waved her off on the bus. We did the assignment together. We texted each other about our studies. We joked about finding the guy who got the perfect score and beating him senseless. I thought about talking to her about my art or what we were making in other classes, but never did.

Towards the end of the semester I had to plan the next. A whirlpool churned in my stomach as I clicked on “grades” on my campus’ online portal. I had an A+ in a single course. 

Media Law.

My friend from class texted me that she was dreading the final. I texted her that if we failed I would kill Mr. Perfect Score. She texted “lol.”

She passed the course. I got my degree so I assume I did too. We stopped texting.

That professor emailed me asking me to take a course at the law school down the road. He said he would let me sit in and see if I wanted to change majors a third time. I never replied.

A law degree would just make Mr. Perfect Score a hundred times more punchable.

[anaoyuo]

Play With The Stars || deleted scenes

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Gojo Satoru x f!reader

notes: You’re looking at the first scene that didn’t make it into the story and got lost in my files. I wrote the draft at the beginning of adg, unsure where it would fit, but I thought I’d just use it later. Spoiler: it never happened. It was meant for the middle of the story. Unfortunately, we were busy with angst, so I wrapped it up quickly and tada here it is!

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The glass doors slid open and you were immediately hit by the terribly hot, muggy summer air. After spending the entire day in the nicely air-conditioned office, you hadn't even noticed how intense the heat had gotten outside.

The sudden growl of a motor snapped you and other nearby pedestrians out of your thoughts. There, parked at the curb, was a man who played with the loud engine of his motorcycle, spewing out the exhaust for no reason other than to show off. What an idiot. 

You rolled your eyes and were about to turn away, but as you looked closer, you quickly realized you knew that idiot. 

The man took off his helmet and ran a hand through his snowy white hair that lay a little damp and flat against his forehead.

Your brows furrowed in surprise as you approached him. "Satoru?"

"Hello, babes." Gojo grinned at you, wide and toothy. His cheeks dusted with a faint hint of pink, the heat having made them flush.

"What are you doing here?"

"Just thought I'd drop by to sweeten your day," he replied, letting go of the handlebars to lean back. 

Your gaze drifted downward to the intimidating machine. It suited him well, a glossy black frame with a few blue details here and there, most likely customized. 

"I didn't know you could ride one of these," you said, nodding toward the bike.

Gojo let out a dramatic gasp. "How rude of you to think there's something I can't do."

You smiled, keeping your lips tight and eyes dull. "Oh, forgive my ignorance. I totally forgot how amazing you are."

"Exactly." He slid off his bike and unhooked the second helmet from his seat, holding it out to you. "Here. Put it on."

"I'll pass."

His entire expression plummeted faster than a rock in water.

Had he just been rejected? Him? The great Gojo Satoru?

He huffed, as if he was just beginning to really process your response. "Wait, what do you mean? You can't pass. I'm already here."

"I've never ridden a bike before, and this thing doesn't look like it's made for slow, friendly rides," you explained while casting a wary glance at the motorcycle.

"I can make it slow and friendly." 

You frowned, unconvinced. "Oh, really?"

"Well, if you're gonna beg for it, I might, yeah," he said, a smirk curving his lips upward. 

Without saying another word, you turned around and started striding away. 

"Where you going?" Gojo's voice trailed after you.

"Taking the bus," you called back over your shoulder.

"Aw, come on. I'll be careful!" 

As you walked, Gojo hurried to catch up, reaching out to grab your arm and halt you.

"I'm literally wearing a skirt, Satoru," you protested, trying to reason with him. A futile attempt, always useless. 

"Yeah, so? You have a nice ass, just arch your back and give the cars behind us something exciting to look at."

You sighed deeply, feeling the will to argue back drain out of you in a single breath.

"Seriously, babe, you're so boring sometimes. I'm here to offer you a fun ride, and what do you do? You choose the bus! The bus, of all things! Do you know how lame that is? Sitting there, waiting for it to lurch forward every few minutes. You might as well be watching paint dry!"

While you tried to tune him out, it was not working. You really, really hoped that if you just ignored him long enough, he would eventually tire himself out and shut up, but no. Gojo rambled on and on and on with no sign of stopping anytime soon. 

"...it's like, turning down free candy. Who even does that? Oh, wait, you do! And what about sorting your socks by color? Probably your idea of a crazy Friday night, huh? Or maybe alphabetizing your spice rack is more your idea of a good time. Am I right? Or using coasters—"

Your patience snapped as you cut in. 

"You will drive slow, Satoru."

Gojo stared at your finger that poked his chest. He squeezed his eyes shut and threw his head back. "Fuck, you're so sexy when you give me commands," he groaned.  

"Satoru," you warned again. "You will drive slowly."

"Yes, ma'am." Gojo saluted in front of you. 

You straddled the bike behind him, pressing a little closer than necessary, chest flushed against his broad back.

After he revved the engine to life, Gojo leaned into you, his gloved hands finding their way to your naked thighs to tease you with some strokes and squeezes.

"Nervous, babe?"

"Yes."

Gojo grabbed your wrist, guiding your arm away from his waist to rest against his chest, right above where his heart pulsed, holding your hand there. 

"Don't worry. I promise you that after we get home, you'll want to ride my bike every single day."

You heaved a sigh that faded into a chuckle. "Definitely not."

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—In memory of the bastard I dated in 2020 Full series: ao3

[theresamouseinmyhouse]

tim + brentwood characters as boys i was legitimately friends with in high school and think of every single day:

Buzz- Jake (fake names for all of my friends bc privacy reasons) who complained about hanging out with nerds, got into a fistfight with someone else on his football team bc they called us nerds, was thoroughly convinced he'd run laps faster if he was hopped up on pixie stix (i held his backback while he got sick in the bathroom👍👍), he tried to hit on my older sister and she laughed at him, he was so put out he contemplated becoming a monk for a week

Wes: Max, who i helped sneak an entire bottle of orange juice on to the bus to our choir competition, but was unaware he brought a full bottle of vodka as well, ended up crying on our choir teacher for the three hours after the comp and i bought him a box of donuts after school, he did not stop doing this and had severe beef with a kid he knew in 5th grade and hadnt seen since but also hadnt forgotten their name and last i knew, was still awaiting for a dreaded confrontation to eventually come

Kip: Eduardo, who we all thought was studying during lunch but was actually filling his notebook with weird facts he observed about us and also managed to chew several packs of gum at once throughout our math class before the teacher noticed him, didnt know the plot to the clockwork orange so i lied about it for 5 weeks before he read it and called me just to tell me "you lying frog" befire he hung up

Ali: Ángel, who lied several times on separate occasions to the campus security about where people smoked, forgot what chihuahuas were twice, and almost drowned when he was swimming except his older brother got him and he immediately called me while waiting for the ambulance to tell me he almost fucking died, randomly sang a song about crabs he made up throughout the day

Danny: Ben, helped me with my biology homework because i helped him with essays, once released a live rat into the computer classroom because he had beef with the teacher, once texted me at 11 p.m. because he was having a mental breakdown over his chem work before he realized he was actually looking at trig and i told him id shoot him with a tranq gun if he woke me up like this again, kept forgetting how to tie his shoes

Tim: Teddy, he catfished 6 men over the age of 30 by pretending to be a 13 yr old girl and lured them to the part of town where there is an absurd amount of wild dogs that evade animal control and are known to maul humans, i watched him lockpick the english teacher's door so he could take back an essay he wrote bc it was actually a slash fic he printed out and turned in by accident, we hung out at a dennys once and he accidentally put his hand in syrup, looked me dead in the eye and said "i did that bc im gay" and wore pastel pink for a month bc it pissed off the hall monitor, his dad, and also six teachers he didnt even have class with

[sugdenlovesdingle]

Seven sentence Sunday

thanks for the tags @welcometololaland @bonheur-cafe @sznofthesticks

I started reading Rachel's Carlos & Nancy bffs fic last night (I *WILL* leave a comment when I finish it, I promise, I just got too tired last night to keep reading) and I just love their friendship and it kind of inspired this. It's not really much of anything yet (i wrote it on my phone while out walking my dog) but hopefully i can work it in my nancy/marjan fic somehow.

---

"Nancy?" Carlos opened the door for her further to let her in. "Is everything alright?"

"TK isn't home is he?" she asked, looking around.

"No... he's at a meeting with his sponsor... But I can call him for you if you want."

"No. I want to talk to you, I need to talk to you and TK can't know."

Carlos frowned.

:"Why? It's a bit early to start planning his birthday. You know it's not until December."

"Marjan and I are together. As a couple. We're dating." Nancy blurted out. "And I need to tell someone or else I'm going insane."

"Uh... well... uh... congratulations? I guess?"

"Sorry for dumping all of this on you but normally I'd talk to TK since we're stuck in the bus together all day anyway, but Marj doesn't want him to know yet, but she can talk to Paul. So Judd and cap are the only ones left, but I can't talk to them or captain Strand because Mateo lives with him and he's already moved to B shift because of me and -"

"Hey, take a breath." Carlos grabbed her hand and gave it a squeeze. "You're always welcome. We're friends, you can always talk to me. I just... wasn't expecting this... any of it to be honest."

"Yeah... it's uhm... new..."

"Yeah? Good new?"

Nancy smiled.

"Oh yeah. So good. I feel like I'm on cloud nine whenever she's just in the same room and when she smiles... when she smiles at me... the rest of the world just fades away."

Carlos smiled, he knew the feeling all too well.

"Come on, sit down. TK won't be back for a while, he and Cooper usually grab something to eat after their meetings." He sat down on the sofa and waited for Nancy to join him. "Tell me everything."

---

open tag + tagging

@carlos-in-glasses @im-overstimulated-and-im-sad @your-catfish-friend @chicgeekgirl89 @lemonlyman-dotcom

@oldfangirl81 @nancygillianmvp @cold-blooded-jelly-doughnut @sanjuwrites

[sevileviathan]

Why Betty Grof And Simon Petrikov shouldn't be together!

⚠️THIS IS MY OPINION! (I respect Betty x Simon Shippers and understand it's canon) ⚠️

here are my opinions of why I think they should not get back together or shouldn't have happened in the first place

This is more about Betty than Simon

As someone who does like them being together and seeing how much they love each other, I personally think Betty and Simon deserved better than each other. Simon is selfish and Betty is a people pleaser/push-over.

WARNING: FIONNA AND CAKE SPOILERS!

Let's start with how they first met: in the recent episode of "Jerry", Simon tells Fionna how he and Betty first met

It's told before that Simon and Betty met in a library, and they touched hands. Soon Betty went to one of his lectures about ancient artifacts and sparked up a conversation with him, telling him how much she admired him and his work. This led Simon not to directly but to asking Betty to join him on his next trip to find The Enchiridion, which ended with Betty saying Yes as this was a "once-in-a-lifetime opportunity"

as they both went on that trip and came back, they've both shown to like each other. the only problem is and still is that Betty never saw herself equal to Simon

as he came out of the car to show he found the book, Betty shyly refused to take his spotlight even though she helped him to locate The Enchiridion

As Simon finishes that chapter of the story for Fionna, Fionna herself says that Betty basically left everything for Simon

This will be a recurring issue with Simon and Betty as they live on. as the episode went on, Simon continued his story.

Simon and Betty somewhat parted but Betty ended up writing him a note for him to read fully knowing he would pick up that book (very cute) and wrote a note for him (Mind you! They only known each other for at least a couple weeks before parting to do their own thing for a while) after reading it, it seemed like Betty was truly in love with him, talking about how she wished to be by his side but still doing her own thing.

She was ready to go on that trip she had been waiting for a while. As she was waiting for the bus, Simon ran to go see her

her friend told Simon "Don't make her miss that bus" as it implied that Betty was happy and dreaming of going on that trip (It's also brought up in Betty's Past memories when she was in mars how she really felt during that whole thing)

but he stops her, tells her his feelings, and lived happily ever after, I'm sorry but that's a load of shit

Simon didn't even go with Betty to that trip she wanted to go to, soon after all of this they went off to find items HE wanted to find, going on trips to help HIM find lost artifacts

as betty always went along with him, as it's said Betty kinda of picked this way of living, always following Simon because that's what "she" wanted. saying "I want to be by your side" but in that same letter she says she wanted to do her own things BUT have Simon by her side. To me it speaks that she still wanted to do her studies but with Simon there- but we all know how Simon treated her, What did Betty want to do after she got with Simon, We never found out and we all only know she just wanted to be with Simon. Betty nowhere in the series is shown to be her own person besides being the woman Simon is in love with.

Adventure Time: her past before she became Golb

Betty is the whole reason why she fucked up her own life and I mean this in the most respectful way to put it because she really became "God" to save SIMON

When Simon and Betty found the crown, Betty ran away from Simon but as we all know, she ran to the future Simon because He looked "normal" speaking as Betty did not like change whatsoever.

She ended up doing her own thing to see if she could help Simon to no longer be the ice king. Leading to Betty becoming the Magic Woman

Slowly making her go more and more insane as she still had her memories but every time she looked at Ice King it made her go mad. She betrayed Finn to save Simon but failed again (I know I missed the other time where she made an AI version of her to fix the crown but I don't find it too important besides showing how far she's willing to go to save Simon even if it meant killing him)

Betty ended up being on Mars for a while before Finn and Jermaine arrived, they all ended up seeing Betty's old life young Betty, the Betty that was meant to leave to her trip that even Present Betty herself changed the dates to make past Betty leave on her trip because Betty knows that Simon was something she may have wished never happened

She herself said that she gave so much to Simon that she didn't know if there was any left for herself

throughout all of Betty's life, it's always been about Simon she gave up her trip, she left her Simon for future Simon, she became mad to save Simon, she became a God to save Simon

In the ending of Adventure Time, Betty pushed Simon out of Glob and made one last wish "I wish for the power to protect Simon" making her fuse with Golb itself

Her last moments, her final wish, it was to protect Simon not save the beings of OOO, or OOO itself- just Simon

as much as they seemed to be in love, Betty was always in the shadow of Simon, giving up her own life for him

Not to mention that it seems like Betty did most of what she did through Puppylove and the honeymoon parts of relationships we don't really know how long they were together before finding the crown but it couldn't be to long after they got together (but I could be wrong) so half of the things she did was for Simon to be his normal self (to me it seems like Betty just wanted to be with Simon as she did go through a portal to be with him as he looked normal instead of staying with her Simon to help him with the crown, Betty doesn't want change)

I can only compare Betty to Millie from Helluva Boss she's an amazing fighter as Betty is smart but what are they?

Millie is Moxxie's wife, and Betty is the lover of Simon. But what else is there to them? besides Betty being a God what more do we know about her? The fact that she studied petroglyphs

There is so much to Betty that even the show called it out but even now, as Fionna and Cake come out, what will happen to Simon and Betty? will she come back as normal Betty to be back with Simon, I really hope not if Simon keeps going to only think of himself

In my personal opinion, I really don't want Betty and Simon to get back together but I at least want Simon to get that closure he needs to move on

Final words:

Sorry if some of the things I said were repeated, I just needed to air this out, if anyone has questions I'll be willing to answer them but if not, that's cool, please don't be mean to me about how "I'm wrong"

we all have different views on how ships should work in media but in opinion, a woman giving up her life for a man isn't for me! even if it's for true love, because even that same man didn't help her with her dreams

I hope what I write makes sense, sometimes I can't get my words right about how I feel about topics

Thank you for reading!

[annymation]

So how King Florian got himself killed like drinking a poison?

Alright, this is the part 4 of this Prequel I wrote with Amaya and Magnus backstory!

I'm in a writing Florian mood, this OC that has been just in my head for so long is finally getting loose!

If you wanna take a look on how he looks, click HERE to see @uva124 amazing design for him and young Magnus and Amaya!

So here’s how his death went:

King Florian is sleeping on his large comfortable bed, he groans as he wakes up, feeling a terrible headache that has been making him unable to do anything for days now.

“Ughhh my head…”

"Good morning, your majesty" Says a sweet voice from the side of the bed

"AAAH!" The young king get startled by the voice, he turns to the side of the bed and sees "Miss Amaya! You scared the life out of me!" He says shaken up by the sudden wake up call. He calls her miss even though she's just 5 years older than him, just to show respect.

"Oh dear, I’m so sorry, my king" The woman apologizes bowing her head down slightly.

Florian holds his head, still feeling pain, but then he realizes something... "Wait, what are you doing here? Weeks ago you said you'd be away in vacation for a while... I assumed you went to travel with my brother- ugh" He groans because of the headache.

"Heavens no! I wouldn't go traveling in the ocean, not after my past experiences" She chuckles quietly "I just needed a break from the confining walls of the palace, you know? For the past few days I was lodged with a lovely family of farmers"

Said farmers provide the food for the palace. Amaya poisoned their vegetables with a potion that would only give terrible headaches to someone that magic in them, a sorcerer such as Florian. It never affected anyone from the castle staff or the food testers, so no one suspected a thing.

"I see... So what brings you back?" He smiles at her kindly despite being in pain.

"Isn’t it obvious? I’ve came to restore you back to health. You poor thing, I should’ve never left, you’re clearly in desperate need of my talents." Amaya has a gentle smile and eyes full of fake pity. She picks up a tea cup from the king's night stand "Here you go, this will make all the pain go away" her voice is soft as she hand him the tea cup

The king holds the tea and sees his own reflection on it, he looks skeptical "Thank you, but I doubt it, I've been trying every healing spell in the library to get rid of these migraines, but nothing works… It feels more like a curse..."

"A curse? That can’t be, who would ever curse you? You’re so beloved by all of your people" She acts shocked, like she just heard the saddest thing in the world.

"I don't know, but THIS isn’t natural... And speaking of my people, I haven’t granted any wishes for days…" Florian places the tea on his night stand and starts to try getting out of bed, he’s distressed "I shouldn’t keep them waiting- I should at least check a few wishes today, then- I- I-" He feels his legs go limp and just falls back on the bed "Ugghhhhh" He groans in frustration with how weak he feels.

"Shhh come now my king, you must rest" Amaya sounds motherly, she caresses the king’s long hair to comfort him "There’s nothing to worry about, your people love you, they won't mind if they don't get a few wishes for just a little while" those words do indeed help Florian feel better "... What a shame that Magnus went to travel, hm? If he was here perhaps he could help you with the wishes" she says longingly

"Heh nah, he couldn’t do that since he got no magi-" Florian realizes he just blurted out his brother's secret that they both agreed to keep away from the public, and worst, he said it to the maiden his brother is in love with, he lifts his head from the pillow nervously trying to remedy his mistake "UUUH I mean- Umm- He doesn't USE his magic a much as me bu-but-" Florian tries to come up with something, but he's a terrible liar

"Hush now your highness, it's alright, I already know" Amaya said calmly

That caught him out of guard… Sure Amaya has been living in the palace for a year now, but Magnus was always so serious about hiding from others that he has no magic… He really must love her a lot.

“Oh- hehe of course… I should’ve guessed, you two are so close… It makes me glad that he found love, he really changed thanks to you, you know?” Florian looks at her with a thankful smile as he sits on the bed

“He did?” She asks innocently tilting her head “How so?”

“Growing up, he always been closed off and cold… But since you arrived, he has been so much happier and alive, he even started treating ME better, which is crazy cause for years he avoided even looking at me! -Ough” Florian gets excited talking about how his brother has improved, but his migraines start flaring up again, he lowers his head and holds it with both hands.

“Oh your majesty, please lay down.” Florian did as she said, laying back on the bed “There, now drink up, and I promise you’ll feel better before you know it.” She takes the tea cup and gives it to him with a caring smile “My potions always help you feel better, don't they?… And I made it apple flavored, I know it’s your favorite”

It was true, Amaya has been their royal potion maker for about a year, and her potions always did help Florian feel better whenever he had a cold or felt tired. He knew he could trust her.

“… Thank you, Amaya” Florian drinks the tea… it does taste like apple, but it’s really bitter, he makes a face of disgust but tries to hide it to be polite.

“Not to your liking? That’s quite alright, one sip is more than enough for the effects to kick in.” Amaya says as her gentle smile changes into a wicked smirk.

Florian is looking at the tea so he doesn’t see her change in expression "Oh no no! It tastes great hah ha" he lies, then he asks what he should’ve probably asked before even drinking it “And umm what are the effec-“

… Florian feels strange…

He feels sleepiness overtake him... But not like a nice sensation of drifting off to sleep, it's more like his eyelids are being forcefully shut down, he tries his best to keep them open, and he sees Amaya's wicked grin.

"It's nothing much really, you'll just fell a bit sleepy..." Amaya says still with her sweet voice. She takes the tea cup from his shaky hands.

He tries to speak but it's getting hard to breathe, it's like his heart is slowing down even though he's terrified as realization dawns on him.

"Then, your breath will still." Her smile shows how she's just having way too much fun seeing the gleam in his innocent big eyes being shattered with betrayal.

He feels cold, really cold, and it doesn't come from outside, the freezing sensation comes from within him and it's spreading through his whole body. He can't move, but he still manages to look at Amaya angrily with his last strengths.

"And your blood will congeal." She finishes listing the effects of the curse, amused with the young king's angry expression.

Florian tries to resist the curse, he tries to use his magic but he can't focus, everything is becoming blurry but he still hears Amaya's voice as a distant echo

"Oh don't fight it your majesty, just relax, you won't really die after all, you'll simply fall into a sleep LIKE death." She stands up from the chair and covers him with his blanket to look like the king never woke up at all "... Though you will be buried alive, THEN you'll die hahahaah aaah" She laughs devilishly

Florian is losing the battle as his eyes begin to seal shut, but he can still hear Amaya like an echo in his head.

She leans down to whisper in his ear "But I'll tell you a little secret, there is an antidote, wanna know what it is?... True love's kiss." She holds in more laughter like that's the punchline of the joke, as she starts to walk out of the room with the tea cup "Awwn... If only there was someone out there who loved you..."

Those were the last words Florian heard before his mind drifted off into a dreamless slumber, one that he never woke up from.

Magnus returned from his travel not long after, "devastated" by the news. He was the one who buried his "dear little brother".

[zemkzone]

I don't normally vent, but... TLDR: I was mugged in a city, a country, where I am a foreigner and the supposed friends who were helping me told another friend I was acting "entitled" to their help. It was heavily implied I had to APOLOGIZE to them. AITA or not AITA? I now have much bigger trust issues than I had last week.

Long version:

I've been living in the UK for almost 2 years, and I went down to London on Friday for a break from a stressful work-week. The first night went well, dinner and a show, and I fell asleep at a decent enough time to wake up early on Saturday for 9:30AM yoga with, for lack of a better term, friends of a friend. It was a relatively nice morning, so I decided to take one of the buses instead of schlepping my way down to the Tube (which I still call the subway most days coz, can you blame the proverbial Yankee visiting King Charles' Court?). I got off the bus in the City, what they call the business area in London as a whole, I have been made to understand. Google Maps told me it was an easy walk from the bus stop to the hotel where the yoga class was, but there were several alley/side road closures where the app wanted me to go. I was still on a nice, wide sidewalk, with few cars on the street and few people around me too. I paused at what felt like a safe intersection on that wide sidewalk, right by a modern glass building with CCTV hanging off it and CCTVs on the crosswalk traffic lights a few meters away. I was as far from the roadside as possible, and out of precautionary habit, I had my back turned to the road a little to protect the phone I had out in my hand. I was texting those sort-of friends that I was a few minutes out, and trying to get Google Maps to reroute me.

Suddenly, a black glove appeared in front of my face and my phone was snatched away by what looked like a man in an electric blue puffer hoodie, riding a bicycle on the sidewalk. I tried to chase him, but between the coffee I had to let go of and the duffle bag on my shoulder, it was hopeless. He disappeared around the corner I had been considering walking along myself, and I was left to ask for help from the four passersby at the crosswalk. Two of them happened to be a father and daughter (Brits, but also just visitors in London). The father wrote down my exact location and the time so I could report it to the police. When I said I had friends at a nearby hotel, he and his daughter helped me find my way to it. They didn't have to walk me in, but they did. "We'll wait here," he said at the top of an escalator, "and wait for you to give us a thumbs up if the receptionist has located your friends". The receptionist did, I signaled the two perfect strangers that all was well, and we waved goodbye as they headed off to continue their day.

What followed should have been an exercise in practicality. The boyfriend of one of those sort-of friends (let's call him M) and a hotel staffer helped me contact the police and cancel my debit card (which had been in my snatched cellphone's case). Two officers came to the hotel so I could give them my statement, etc. All the while, M sat with me, updating his girlfriend and the others who still continued on with their yoga session. The police asked me to take them to the spot where the crime occurred. M was still with me, and as we walked out of the hotel, his girlfriend (T) and more people than I expected (I'd only though I was meeting T and another friend I'll call W) came out to join us. I hadn't realized that a whole hour had passed since I'd arrived at the hotel. Their yoga session was over.

At that point, I was torn between (1) feeling marginally better because I had company who knew the city and (2) trying to keep it together in the face of everything that losing a smartphone in 2024 implies. After the police took down the added details at the incident site, T and co. asked me if I wanted to still go to brunch. I agreed since I needed to sit, was shaken, and, though I didn't feel it at the time, did need more than half a cup of coffee in my stomach. At the restaurant, I tried to stay in good spirits. Aside from T, M, and W, there were two people in the group I had never met before, and we were joined by yet another person. I managed to shovel down most of an avocado toast and an Irish coffee (I effing needed the boost). T and her friends had moved on from the usual "sorry that happened to you" and were playing catch up while I asked M where I could find my phone carrier and a place I could get a new phone. I'd come to the UK with the phone that had been snatched, and had only gotten a SIM-only plan with the carrier. I thought the practical thing, since I don't know how many more months/years I'd be in the UK, would be to buy a new phone, then have my carrier block the stolen phone's SIM and issue me a new one. M and I Google Mapped my options, added in my own hotel location so I could grab my passport on the way. I admitted that, considering everything, I (1) needed help getting navigating to those places from where we were and that (2) I didn't feel good enough to be alone just yet. We paid (I still thankfully have working credit cards) for our food and finally left the restaurant.

This is where, to my mind, the uncomfortable part started. Two of the extra 3 people (remember, I was only supposed to have been with T, W, and M, but they had a total of 3 other friends there too), and somehow what should have been a quick 20-30 minutes to get my passport from my hotel and then drop me off on the street with the phone and carrier store became 6 nerve-wracking hours with a too-large group. I said nothing when they started doing "for the gram" picture stops along the way. M went up to my hotel room with me when I got my passport. He took a photo of some passwords on my laptop that I might need when the phone or carrier store staff helped me with my phone. (In hindsight, we should have used pen and paper.) Then our group of 5 all went in what I assume was the direction of the two stores. W was navigating, and at that point, the streets were so crowded and I was getting very tense that I just trusted she knew what she was doing. In my mind, I kept replaying the mugging over and over, what I could have done differently, etc, etc. (I know what happened wasn't my fault, but at the time, I couldn't help it) and listing what I'd have to do first when I got the replacement phone and SIM. I didn't know T and co. well enough to tell them I was internally seeing red and trying not to spiral. Then, suddenly, we stopped walking... at a bubble tea place. I'd only vaguely heard what the group had been talking about as we walked along, since it seemed to be more Instagram/YOLO, etc stuff and no one was asking my input anyway. I smiled tightly and declined an offer for them to buy my bubble tea, opting to stand outside the store to work on staying calm. I didn't realize (hadn't been told) they wanted a break or anything, but I couldnt complain since I was literally dependent on them until I could get a new phone. We eventually got to the phone store, the last remaining extra person left, and I had to pay full price for a phone because as a foreigner I couldn't get on the monthly payment plans. T, M, and W, instead of just pointing me to the carrier store three shops down, came in with me and waited while I talked to the staff. At some point, W or T asked if I wanted coffee, and, while I thanked them for still being there, I declined the drink again. I thought they'd go off to a nearby café or something since I had paperwork, etc to fill. They and M never left. By the time I got the new SIM in the phone and the staff had advised me to go back to the store where I'd bought the phone to get help setting it up, M, T, and W were still there. They went back to the phone store with me, and T told me to stop being so anxious and sit down while we waited in the queue for assistance.

By then, it was almost 5 in the afternoon. The tech assistant helped as much as he could, since I was basically setting up my phone from scratch, but said I could do the rest with my tablet back at my hotel... or come back to the store with it before closing time so he could walk me through that part. T gave me a card with some of the friend-group's phone numbers, and she, M, and W still walked me to my hotel (I'm pretty sure it was unpromted, but my head was so foggy at that point from all I had done and still had to do). It turned out the hotel was a 10-min walk in a straight line from the phone shop. We got to the entrance to my hotel, I said thanks to them for being there the whole time, and they left. I handled grabbing my tablet and walking right back (in 5 min) to the phone shop to finish setup alone. The day ended with me exhausted, having a semi-functional phone that I'd have to wait to fully fix still when I got to my apartment (in a place I jokingly nickname the Shire) after the weekend, and crying to friends back in the States in a call over a lousy room-service dinner. I told them what happened, including my misgivings over all the YOLO stops, and they calmed me down and helped me a little more with fixing my phone.

I got at most two hours of sleep by the time the sun rose on Sunday morning... and then made myself presentable enough to meet A, the original London friend who had introduced me to T, W, and M where I first arrived in the country. I told him that while I was grateful for his friends' help the previous day, I didn't think I could go through that again. (I didn't exactly want to say "they're good-time people, but I don't know if I'd want the...awkward stops all over the place again if I were ever in another crisis around them.") What A said... upset me. T, M, and W had apparently complained to him that, while they still thought I was a lovely person (ah, Britishisms!) I acted "entitled" to their company the whole afternoon and was scowling too much. They didn't regret canceling plans for me, but I seemed "ungrateful in my human interactions with them". A all but said I had to APOLOGIZE to his friends.

I'm in my early 30s, with a no-nonsense, get-shit-done North American mentality and I'm aware my default expression, especially when I'm too tired, is RBF (resting bitch face, for those too young to know), and I feel terrible if I need to drag anyone at all into my messes. They're energetic and bubbly Brits in their late 20s. But they really could have left me at any point, just given me directions and left, and I would not at all have held it against them. Just like I was grateful and held nothing against that father with the kid who initially helped me after the mugging. Is this an AITA situation? Did I miss anything? Is this a subtle cultural/age/millennial-GenZ divide?

I'm still tired as FUCK, trying to get used to this new phone, and have a LOT of life admin to do suddenly after this whole weekend. If you have any thoughts or comments, whoever and wherever you are, feel free to say something.

[moonxmagix]

My School Bully

Pairing: Revenge Frank Iero x Fem Reader

CW: bullying, enemies to lovers, fucking

Summary: After months of anguish and bullying from Frank Iero, your bully, you’ve decided you’ve had enough. One run in with him and your whole world changes, for better or worse?

A/N: Wrote 8 pages on google docs lol.

I started at a new school in New Jersey, previously being from the south, I was nervous. I did have a more alternative style but had that country twang. I was hoping my style would make up for the voice but I don’t think it’ll work. I can’t stay silent for long. 

I timidly walked through the halls of my new school as people were friendly with one another. Seemed like everyone was already familiar with each other, which means it’s gonna be harder for me to make friends. Thankfully we had uniforms so if someone wanted to bully me they couldn’t bully me for how “emo” I dressed. 

I got to my locker and as I opened it a random boy popped out of it, I screamed. This guy had blonde and black hair, a nose piercing, a baggy uniform, and was rather short. He looked at me right in the eye with a smirk on his mischievous face. “Who’s this creature?” he said while his friends laughed, flicking his finger on my forehead. 

I let out an “Ow” and rubbed my head. I tried to ignore him but they persisted in bothering me, “Did you even wash your hair? Could fry a fucking egg with that shit,” they laughed. I hid my face from them with my locker door, but all he did was slam the door shut hitting me in the head. “Can you just stop?” I asked softly. 

“What was that little mouse?” he said, leaning down, cupping his ear to pretend he didn’t hear me. “Nothing..” I said quietly. After that he and his little posse walked away. I peered at them before I went to class and caught the strange boy staring at me. 

As soon as I got home I went online to see if I could find out who that guy was. I went to the school's Instagram page and scrolled through their followers list to see if I could find his name first. No luck, so I clicked on a random person's account and looked through their following and followers list, AHA! Found it. I clicked on his profile and scrolled through it, lots of music related stuff, skating, smoking, drinking, typical edgy teen kid stuff. I clicked on a photo to examine it more but accidentally double tapped on it. I panicked and immediately un-liked it, I just messed up big time and I knew I was going to pay for it. 

I threw my phone across the room and screamed into my pillow annoyed with myself. I’ll just go to bed and pray I don’t run into him tomorrow. 

The morning came quickly and I got myself ready, dreading the day ahead. I said bye to my dog before leaving and waited at the bus stop. There was only me standing there, using my hand to block the sun. Out of the corner of my eye I see a group of loud boys approaching. My eyes widened as I realized who they were, I put my hand to the other side of my face to hopefully shield their eyes from recognizing me. 

It worked and I was able to eavesdrop on their not very quiet conversations. 

“Someone has a crush!” one teased. 

“It’s not a crush! I just think she’s pretty. I can be mean to her and also think she’s pretty,” the one who sounded like Frank said. 

“You’ve done this before Frank, you’re mean to them and then you fuck em’,” they laughed. 

I got on the bus in a flash and found an empty seat next to a window. I stared out the window, shrinking myself down so I wouldn’t be seen. But, at the same time it felt like a giant arrow was pointing at me saying, “LOOK AT ME! I’M RIGHT HERE!” 

They all got onto the bus and walked past me, I sighed realizing I was safe. The bus ride went completely fine until I got off, I pushed past everyone so I could get away from them. Before I reached the entrance the back of my collar was being grabbed, I squealed. “Piggy got something to say?” Frank said in my ear. I shook my head no repeatedly. 

“Are you sure? Liking my instagram photos last night says otherwise, you stalker,” he said, throwing me to the ground. His friends walked past laughing at me as I tried to get myself off the ground. I went to my locker but made sure he wasn’t there and put my stuff away. I stood there for a moment and let a few tears fall from my eyes. I sniffled trying to pull myself together shortly before walking to my class. As I walked down the halls I saw Frank pass me and turn back to look at me. 

I made eye contact for a few seconds but felt more like minutes. He had a random girl wrapped around his arm who looked like she had been around. For a moment, for a hopeful moment it looked like he had an ounce of remorse on his face. I doubt it though. 

I was able to go through the day without any more problems. 

~^~^~^~^

Today the weather was nice and wasn’t terribly hot so I decided to walk to school. I saw no sign of  Frank and his posse. I made it to school in a great mood and headed to my locker, then again no sign of them. I thought it was strange and just thought that they skipped school or maybe he’s sick. 

It was weird that I was just expecting to get bullied and ready for it. I’m just glad they have not terribly hurt me, at least yet. Gym class arrived rather quickly and before it started the gym doors slammed open, here they fucking are. I  groaned and rolled my eyes as the teacher told us to gather around on the floor. 

All he told us to go get changed and what we’d be doing today. I hurried to the bathroom and got changed in a stall and not around everyone else because it was just…uncomfortable. At this school even though we had uniforms we were still able to wear “normal clothes” as  gym attire. 

I had a The Cure shirt and some black jean shorts, definitely not in dress code but the teacher is a creep so he lets it slide. I threw my hair up in a ponytail but quickly took it down realizing it could get pulled. Class officially started and we were playing dodgeball, great. The team leader was a popular girl named Emmy and…Frank. 

One by one they picked people and I was the last to be picked. The popular girl said my name hesitantly but I’m surprised she even knew it. We got started and Frank had his eyes on me the entire time, instantly he threw balls at me. And he threw them hard. I threw the balls right back at him not taking my eyes off him, the teacher caught on and said, “Hey you two lovebirds! Stop targeting each other, that’s not how you play.” 

I started targeting other people, getting them out easily. Frank on the other hand had no plans on trying to target others. For a second I saw him gather the others and whisper something to them. In a matter of seconds I was being attacked with balls. I fell to the floor guarding my face with my hands. 

~^~^~^~^

Lunch thankfully was right after gym and I was starving. I got in line and as I had my headphones in I felt my skirt lift. I swung my body around and saw Frank’s friend towering over me. He had black hair that was a lot longer than Franks. “The fuck do you want?” I said in my lil country accent. He laughed and smirked, “I’m just admiring you, that's all sugar,” I scoffed in disgust. 

“Come on, don’t ignore me like that,” he said, wrapping his arm around my waist. I tried removing his arm but he had a strong grip. “I don’t even know your name. Not to mention you and your little friends decided to team up against me during gym,” I said matter of factly. He dug his head in my neck, “It’s Gerard. And it’s nothing personal baby, don’t be such a prude,” he whined. I rolled my eyes, “Whatever,” I said, getting away soon as possible. 

I found a spot outside where I knew I wouldn’t be bothered. I let out a few tears but was rudely interrupted by THE ones. I was stiff and didn’t want to move like a possum playing dead in the road. If I didn’t move they didn’t see me, “We have to find her. I need to be around her,” Frank said. Was he talking about that one girl I saw? Did he have a girlfriend? Does his girlfriend not like me? I don’t even know this girl!

I heard my surroundings get quiet as I had my head on the table, my eyes on the ground below me. I saw feet sit at the table and my eyes widened, really? Fucking really? I thought to myself. “What’s wrong baby?” Gerard said to me pitifully, but he didn’t care. I know. 

He rubbed his hand on my back, I pushed his hand off me and lifted my head avoiding eye contact. “What the fuck do you want?” I said annoyed. “I just wanted to ask you something, that's all,” Gerard said. “Well?” I said with an attitude. 

“Do you wanna maybe go out with me? Y’know, be exclusive with the one and only,” he smirked. God he was a douche. I didn’t even respond and just looked at him with disgust, “I’m just kidding jeez! I don’t know a single person who would want to touch you with a 10ft pole.” His friends laughed in unison. 

“You just fucking did but you don’t wanna tell them that do you?” I said scoffing. “You gonna tell them?” I said, while his friends asked him what he did. He didn’t want to respond so I left. 

~^~^~^~^

It was the beginning of December now and the bullying never stopped. I was shoved in lockers, held against the wall, food and drinks thrown on me, pushed to the ground, bullying in the gym, them stalking my social media, etc. 

One day as I walked home I noticed Frank walking in front of me, I gasped and covered my mouth immediately taking a different turn. When I looked up from the ground Frank stood in front of me, “What the fuck do you want?” I said to him inches from his face. 

Frank smirked, “Wanted to see to my favorite punching bag.” My blood boiled and I saw red. I’m tired of being this “punching bag”. 

“Y’know what, Frank? I’m SICK of this,” I yelled. “The FIRST day at this pretentious shit school you tormented me. What did I ever do to you? Of course you just have to pick on the new girl,” I splurt out in a fit of rage. He stepped back and softened his gaze, he looked back at me with guilt and regret. “I don’t fucking know,” he said shaking his head. “I guess I just…I don’t know. I like you and thought you were pretty, I didn’t understand how to convey my emotions to you. You just seemed…different from everyone else,” he said tearfully. 

He got down on his knees in the snow, holding my hands. “I’m sorry Y/N. Please let me make it up to you,” he said begging. I sighed, biting my lip unsure what to do or say. “I need a little bit to think about this, I really do. I’m sorry I can’t give you an answer now,” I proclaimed, getting away as soon as possible. 

~^~^~^~^

Weeks went by as Christmas break was approaching. I still hadn’t said anything to Frank but anytime we had interacted he was beyond friendly. I saw him and the guys sitting at a table in the far corner, so I decided to go up to him. “Hey Frank,” I smiled nervously. 

“Hey,” he said, tone cautious. “I just wanted to thank you for apologizing to me. I appreciate it,” I said. He shrugged, “It’s nothing, I was such a jerk.” 

I stood there for a moment hesitant to talk, “I really admire your ability to change and admit you were wrong. If you ever need anyone to talk to, I’m here.” I smiled, giving him a hug. Before he could say anything I left, my cheeks were bright red and hot. 

Later that day I texted Frank on Instagram:

Me: hey sorry for leaving so abruptly earlier 

He replied within minutes. 

Frank: it’s no worries, i’m sorry for not saying much

Me: Do you wanna hang out this weekend? Just us? 

Frank: Can I come over now? I’m already on my way

Me: what? I mean go ahead but my room is a lil messy

Before I knew it Frank was knocking at my door, I shoved the stuff that was on my floor into my closet and vigorously brushed my hair out. I ran to the door as fast as I could and opened it smiling, he embraced me in a tight hug. 

I led him up to my room, “Sooo, this is my room,” I showed him around. I stood in front of my bed and Frank pushed me onto the bed, hovering over me. “Wha-” I began to speak but was cut off by Frank pressing his lips to mine. It took me a couple seconds to adjust under his kiss but I wrapped my arms around his neck. 

“I’ve waited so long to do this, Y/N,” he said, lifting my shirt up. “Just shut up and fuck me,” I said to him which made him blush and push his hips into me harder. I could feel his hard cock through his jeans. 

Our clothes came off in a matter of seconds and Frank was shoving his fingers inside of me. The way he worked his fingers in and out of me made my hips buck and head go back. I moaned his name and just prayed hoping no one was home. “God you’re so hot Y/N,” he said, shoving his mouth into my soaking wet cunt. 

“Frank, fuck me, please,” I begged. “You dirty girl,” he said with a chuckle. He grabbed me forcing me into a doggy position, he grabbed my hair pulling hard. He slammed himself into me making me scream in pleasure, it was like all the anger he had was being taken out on my pussy. He flipped me over into missionary and slowly shoved his entire cock inside me, going slow. 

He stopped and started fucking me rougher, “Frank you feel so fucking good,” I moaned. “Is that right baby? Does daddy feel good?” he groaned in my ear. He stared at me right in the eyes, am I kinda glad he bullied me? I mean, if he didn’t I wouldn’t be getting the best dick around. 

I came several times on his cock and he finally came all over my boobs. We both got cleaned up and I got curled up in bed. “Are you staying the night?” I asked, hoping he’d say yes. “Of course I am, how could I leave you after that?” he smiled. He turned the lights off and got in bed with me. I was the little spoon and he was the big spoon. 

He nuzzled his neck right into my neck leaving small kisses, “Can I ask you something?” he said. “Always,” I replied, turning to him. He stroked my face with his thumb, “Will you be my girlfriend?” My eyes lit up and a wide smile grew on my face, “I’d love to.”

[ineffable-opinions]

Unknown - Review

An adaptation that worked better for me than the source work, to an extent.

Priest is a highly regarded danmei author. When I discovered the author through fans, I really wanted to partake in all that awesomeness too. But time and time again, Priest’s writing style failed to resonate with me. I could never immerse myself in any of her works, truly get into them, be moved by characters and their action. Nothing Priest ever wrote seem to impact me. I always felt like I was at bus stop waiting for a bus that would take me to a destination that everyone else seemed to be able to reach and praise so highly about. I would board every bus that said it would take me to my destination but somehow, I couldn’t reach there.

When live-action adaptations came out, I chased them, in multiple languages (I tried Mandarin, Tamil, Hindi, Malayalam in that order; Indian language dubs can be found on MX player). But then even Malayalam dubbed version of Word of Honor was a chore and I gave up.

When I heard of Unknown based on 大哥 (da ge; Big Brother) (a work I found reprehensible at certain points due to pretty normalized racial and heterosexist psychological depictions) I had no interest in checking it out. Things couldn’t be so simple. I heard Huang HongXuan (Kurt) was going be in it. Now, I must watch it for he had rizz in spades in VIP Only and I wanted more of that. (Spoiler alert – I think the Unknown by focusing on Wei Qian missed out on cashing that sweet charisma except for glimpses of it in the last few episodes.)

That’s how I ended up watching Unknown in the first place. It is safe to say I am glad I did. I never thought Da Ge will become something like this. I am impressed by the meticulous cultivation that source material underwent. That little carp really crossed the gate to become a dragon.

Da Ge is a popular and critically-acclaimed work. IMHO, it was for most parts a classist, 金手指 (golden finger) plot with half-baked versions of then popular danmei tropes. For context (I don’t want to say comparison), 弟弟 (didi; younger brother) by 人体骨架 came out in 2011, two years before Da Ge. In BL, newer don’t necessarily mean better. 

What Unknown managed to do was tone down the golden finger bits and keep things realistic to an extent.

Wei Qian got the funds he dearly needed not from killing and snitching on gangsters but from gang-boss Le ge who was Dr. Lin’s senior. Le ge defied some gang codes and sorta wronged his own underlings to that the plot can turn in favor of Wei Qian. The whole triad bit was decent enough that I didn’t mind the snitching part much – I chose to ignore it.

Removed three female characters who were there for man-pain purposes in the novel. Instead gave Wei Lili, pavam xiao baobao, time to shine.

Did not airlift Wei Qian into the waiting arms of a benefactor with sufficient connections in Mainland who would rescind everything in grief, right when Wei Qian could take over and reign. Instead, Unknown let Wei Qian build a company with San Pang and Lao Xiong which fits right into Taiwan’s SME-heavy capitalism.

Didn’t include anything that I found reprehensible in the novel.

Gave relatively explicit intimate scene.

Toned down novel Wei Qian’s Valliettan-aura to build a warmer, more sensible relationship between the Wei siblings.

Made passing mentions of novel events, in ways that was more connected and believable.

Didn’t make villains into caricatures who loose brain cells to benefit Wei Qian. Instead fleshed out Le ge and his relationship with both his underling and his junior. Made him interesting.

Got us a character with blacked out tattoos. I have listed this one at the last but this is the best thing about Unknown for me. Here’s why…

While organized crime is a popular setting in BL, it is rare for BL characters to have visible evidences of their criminal pasts after leaving it for a civilian life. Usually, they either hide it with full-sleeves and what-nots. But here’s a character in a BL with blacked out tattoos trying to make a living through street-vending. Tattoos are customary, ceremonial and meaningful in the context of organized crime, triad in this case. While involved in the triad, tattoos signal trust and loyalty, etched into skin. But it is a burden too. It is part of the cage that leaves no way out. As Le ge’s underling emphasizes, it is not easy to get away having once involved oneself with the triad. Moreover, the tattoos evoke fear among civilians – so ex-gangsters can forget prospects of finding jobs. Even if one is to be self-employed, tattoos doesn’t signal anything good and are effective in scaring customers away. In Unknown, the blacked-out tattoos signal a dark past he has shut door to; all symbolisms that meant something in the context of triad has been wiped out by ink.

There are points where I felt Unknown was rush through the plot, some others which I felt drag. But overall, it was a good BL and a surprisingly enjoyable adaptation of a source novel I didn’t enjoy at all.