#“A person going to work on a windy day”

[pinkcreatorhologram]

The Power of Morning Messages. Love, Faith and Positivity

Sometimes we set the tone for the rest of our day in the morning, which is a sign of a fresh start

[fleeblesim]

My queue's run out, but I'm p busy w uni rn so it might be a but quiet from me, as well as more sporadic posting in the future rather than consistent 😁😓

[infinitystation]

YEAH FROM ONE RED STATE GAY TO ANOTHER. THIS SHIT ANNOYS ME SO BAD. even though ive lived in the south pretty much my whole life, my extended family all lives up north, so we go there sometimes. i have never fucking seen such bullshit as when liberals say "the south is bigoted the north is safe!!!". ever been to new hampshire? everywhere i went i was the only damn brown person in the room. but higher white population aside, the north is just as bigoted as the damn south, and the only difference is that southerners are LOUD about it. down here if someone's a trumpie, you know immediately. up there though? you have no idea til youre at their table and they ask you about your thoughts on the latest left vs right debate.

its also just ironic all of it. the north is full of cities with gays living in their apartments with gay roomates and whatnot, having the money to live in a welcome area grabbin starbucks every day, but theyre so blind about the black and hispanic people segregated to the corners of their happy leftist city... the disregard for poc is insane. especially when they say us being a red state is our fault, like brown people's voting rights aren't limited by the whites in power. something to think about...

sorry for this rant i have such strong feelings about this. im sick of being told to "just leave" or worse, being blamed for and grouped with the trumpies

ppl love to point to the south and say "look at the worst of them" and assume the entire place is like that and everyone agrees with all the hate crimes going on, but when you try to talk about anything like violent racism in cities suddenly it's "an institutional problem" and has nothing to do with cultural attitudes...

[everythingjapan]

"Mundane Halloween" Favorites:

"An interviewer who's a little too extra with the pens"

"The guy who had to work during vacation"

"The man under infrared camera"

"The one who's still playing Animal Crossing"

"A person going to work on a windy day"

"A driver's license"

"A guy who can definitely tell the difference between good and bad coffee"

"When you're loading"

"A guy who can no longer wear his favorite shirt because of the anime Kimetsu no Yaiba (Demon Slayer)"

"The one who left the bag open"

"Someone who isn't aware their phone flashlight is on"

"The woman who got a head injury in soap operas"

"A woman who's regretting telling the cashier that she doesn't need a bag"

"The newly single in Japanese drama getting over a relationship"

"That guy who's definitely the grill master at a large BBQ"

"The surprised man, who got a vasectomy last year"

"The Starbucks employee forced to smile through an exhausting Halloween"

"An office worker whose lanyard name card has flipped over"

"Zoom background error"

"An overworked woman doing last-minute assignments for a terrible company on the train platform"

"A businessman who cut himself shaving but can luckily hide it with his mask"

"The woman looking for a seat at the food court"

"The woman who's having her bangs cut but the hairdresser is nowhere to be found"

"The guy waiting for his girlfriend by the shopping mall restroom"

[jaysng]

confessing to his mute crush | pjs

pairing: jay x deaf!reader

genre: complete fluff

summary: jay and deaf reader both seem to like each other, just when he thinks that his confession was a pure failer the reader does something surprising.

“i. hope. i. am. not. late”  jay signed and chuckled as he fixed his cross body bag standing nervously infront of you which got out of place while he was running to the stop you had asked him to be at.

you smile at him, knowing he recently had learned sign language just to be able to communicate with you and so he was, a little slow and not so clear. 

you loved cycling alot, and bought this brand new bicycle and you had asked him if he wanted to spend a day out riding it and then go off to the beach and sit there. 

jay and you met through the same animal care shelter you guys volunteered to work at, his charming smile immediately caught your attention. however it was hard to communicate with your muteness, you only knowing sign language and him knowing none of it.

however within a span of few months, jay started learning it to be able to communicate with you. 

it made your heart flutter, i mean it’s the effort and dedication. still you asked yourself ‘does he even like me back?’

“is. this. the. new. cycle. that. you. bought?”he asked as you nodded and got off it, you touched the cute basket decorated with a small miffy teddy and a pink bow, it also had the dirty wrapper of chocolate you ate earlier. 

embarrassed, you took it out and threw it somewhere on the ground.

“i decorated it” you signed as he looked at you and smiled, making you blush as you looked away, anywhere but his eyes. 

“예쁘다” he said, even though you obviously didn’t hear him you read his lips quickly anyways. signing a quick thank you you sit back on your cycle and signal him to sit. 

he sits behind you hands on your shoulder as you begin to hit the pedal and ride around the city. 

some moments later you feel jay’s hand shifting from your shoulder to your waist now that you’re cycling in a well pace. 

the wind blows on your face blowing your hair back at his face too, you hit the break for a moment and turn around and give him an apologetic look. 

he smiles at you taking your hair and putting them to one side of your shoulder and keeping his chin on the other, staring at you the entire time he does so.

you squirm and try to get used to the feeling of his charp chin on your shoulder as it’s digging through. 

you shove the feeling off as you start riding again, this moment was really perfect for you, everything was so good. a nice cloudy, windy weather with your favorite person  friend hugging you by the waist and face on your shoulder, what a dream really.

you guys rode the cycle around the city, stopping by a store to get ice cream, as you parked your cycle near the store you guys stood on the footpath and he bought some ice cream.

you looked at him to see if he finished his and you caught him staring at you, he pretended to look around and controlled his cheeky smile but then something else caught your attention wired headphones connected to his phone in his pocket.

you grab them and gain his attention as he looks back at you “you like music?” he nodded and took his phone put of the pocket searching for something. 

curiously, you stared as you got closer to see his screen “this. is. my. favorite. song” he signed enthusiastically as you widen your eyes giving him a cheering gesture.

you stopped as you looked at him “i wish i could listen to it.. it must be nice” silence filled the space between both of you as you stared deep into you while smiling “it is.”both of you finished the ice cream before it melted.

after cycling and strolling around the pretty city here you were sitting on the rocks of the beach as the wind blew every once in a while.

jay had this thing forever in his mind, he loved you he loved you so damn much. everything you did got him screaming internally to wife him up.

“it’s fun being with you, you know?” you signed as jay felt his heart racing a million times in a second what could she mean by that? she probably meant as a friend right? or am i letting my stupid thoughts take over. 

“thank. you.” he says as you close your eyes and give him the widest smile. 

being with him made you feel full, it made you feel like finally you had a friend. but you quickly fell in love with him because of his mannerisms.

even though at school no one really bullied you, but there wasn’t something big for someone to  findi you interesting. emptiness fill inside of you, as for others you were just there, not enough things to be interesting for someone. or atleast for the people around you. jay knew these very well that’s why he hated the fact he fell in love with you so fast and was worried that you might reject him because of how fast everything would happen.

but little did he know that your feelings were pretty.. mutual you can say.

there was a wooden stick in your hand with which you were doodling on the beach sand with, jay was observing each and every move.

with that lavender sundress you were wearing it made everything 10 times cuter in his eyes. the way the wind slightly blew back your hair but you kept on fixing it.

you started moving the stick and you wrote your name’s inital with did adding a unfilled heart after it and looked at jay “want to try?” you ask bringing the stick closer to him as he accepts it. 

he looks at you for a second passing you a lovestruck look. 

J +

he writes before your names inital as you shoot him a confusing look with a nervous smile. 

he looks at you as his smile drops, emotions very visible in his eyes. 

=

he adds an equals to sign between your inital and the unfilled heart, following with filling the unfill heart that you drew. 

your smile drops as you stare back at him, completely in shock and he stares back with a regretful look in his eyes. 

you watch him take a big breath after looking at your reaction, not quite promising is it.

“i. like. you.” you sit there, puzzled. you don’t know whether to do something or cry, the moment feels unreal. 

it all felt so quick that you didn’t realise you haven’t responded to him yet for about past five minutes atleast. 

his hopeful looks now dies as he apologizes and stands up, “i am sorry, i am sorry, sorry i should leave i should probably leave.” he says as you try to read his lips “sorry…. should leave” you could pick up some of the words not many because of how rapid and low his mouth worked. 

you watch him stand up quickly wearing his bag not even sparing another glance at you as he starts walking away.

you felt your cheeks getting warm as everythinf starts getting blurry due to the upcoming tears.

you shake and get up dropping your own bag on the floor. 

“stay” 

did i say it right? you swore you heard the vibrations in your body of your own voice. not fully hearing what you said or if you said it right or no. 

breathing heavily, jay stops in his tracks as he turns around and stares at you in disbelief as you break down. right on that spot you were standing at. 

the word wasn’t clear and mix of broken and light cracks of course, a very weak one because of the vocal chords.

you felt bad for making him wait for so long or making his excitement go away for taking your no response as rejection.

you were just shocked, he actually liked you back? your entire life you felt so neglected and behind just because you were deaf, but now some thing good is finally.. happening?

now standing in a distance both of you staring at each other as he watches uncontrollable tears flow down your face as you sign a ‘i like you too.” while lowering your head and start sobbing. 

jay runs back to you and closes the distance, both of you hug like losers. 

because of the closeness you can feel his body vibrations and shivering, as you realise that he is crying you push him back to see his eyes now your eyes widened “why are you crying silly i should be the one crying..”

he just shrugs while trying to give you a smile and crying.

you bring your hands to wipe his tears off as you hold his face. his hands naturally rest on your waist. 

for a short moment you guys look deep into each other’s eyes as you lean in signaling for a kiss.

you felt him giggling like a teenage boy as he leaned in and pressed his soft lips to yours. 

he could taste the strawberry ice cream you ate earlier on your lips, your scent filling his nostrils and working as a hypnosis.

you pull away taking a long breath, “wasn’t it too long for a first kiss?” you sign while wiping away your own tears now and laughing.

once again complete silence fills the beach as the only thing playing if only you could hear, was the sound of the waves. both of you completely lost in each other’s eyes, it was like your eyes are speaking it all for you. 

but you noticed it, you noticed he was holding back a reply so you hit his chest “say it. say what you want to say.”

he broke the eye contact looking away at the sea, the waves coming and hitting the shore as his stupid smile came back on his face. 

he looked back at you and fixed your hair, brought his hands back to himself and signed at you. 

“i. could. kiss. you. for. an. eternity.”

[trans-axolotl]

ID: Intersex activist Max Beck standing in front of the American Academy of Pediatrics with a sign that says Silence=Death.

On October 26th, 1996, the first ever protest for intersex liberation in America took place when activists from Hermaphrodites With Attitude took to the streets to protest the American Academy of Pediatrics. Later memorialized as intersex awareness day, this important action was a milestone for the American intersex movement. Max Beck, one of the intersex activists from HWA, documented the entire protest and later published their recollection in the Intersex Awakening Issue of the Chrysalis Journal. The full piece is pasted under the cut.  

"But we’re here today to say we’re back, we’re no longer lost, and we’d like to offer some feedback. We’re here to say that the treatment paradigm for “managing” intersexuals is in desperate, urgent need of re-examination. We’re back to say that early surgical intervention leads to more than “just” physical scars and sexual dysfunction. We’re back to say that the lack of education and counseling for intersexuals, our families and the community at large does not lead to a blissful, healthy, well-adjusted ignorance. Rather, it too often leads to a life-threatening shroud of silence, secrecy, and self-hatred. 

I’m here representing over one hundred fifty intersexals throughout North America. One hundred fifty intersexuals are saying: Please! Listen! You doctors, you pediatric endocrinologists and urologists treating intersexuals, you nurses interacting with intersexuals and their families, listen to us! We understand intersexuality, not because we have studied the medical literature — although many of us have — not because we have performed surgeries, but because we have been grappling with intersexuality every day of our lives. We’re here to say that those who would have us believe that intersexuality is rare, cloud the issue by breaking us and separating us into narrow etiological categories which have little meaning in terms of our actual, lived experience. 

We’re here so that other intersexuals can find us — for many of us, finding others like ourselves has been a lifealtering, even life-saving, experience. We’re here to reach parents before their intersex child is born. We’re here to elicit the help of other sympathetic professionals. We can take a stand as openly intersex adults without being crushed by shame! And we did!" 

Hermaphrodites With Attitude Take to the Streets: By Max Beck, 1997

In late October of 1996, Hermaphrodites with Attitude took to the streets, in the first public demonstration by intersexuals in modern history. On a glorious fall day, the like of which you can only find in New England, under a crackling, cloudless sky, twenty-odd protesters joined forces to picket the Annual Meeting of the American Academy of Pediatricians in Boston. Deeply aware of the historical and personal significance of the action, and — correctly — surmising that a notebook diary would not be practical on such a whirlwind, windy week-end, I took a small hand-held tape recorder with me. What follows are excerpts from the resulting transcript.

October 24, 1996 2:45 PM, Atlanta’s Hartsfield International Airport

The trip has only just begun and I am already exhausted. Hot. Starving. Fifteen minutes until take-off. Every businessman boarding the plane looks like a pediatric endocrinologist, Boston-bound. Silly thought, testimony to what? My anxiety? My fear? My giddy anticipation? If these bespectacled, suit-and-tie sporting men were pediatricians, would they be flying coach on Continental, with a layover in Newark? I’m headed for Boston, for the Annual Meeting of the American Academy of Pediatricians (AAP). Tens of thousands of pediatricians. I’m not a pediatrician, though, nor am I a nurse; in fact, I barely managed to complete my B.A. I’m a manager of a technical laboratory. We don’t work with children, and the AAP certainly didn't invite me, so why am I going?

With the plane taxiing toward take-off, this is a lousy time to reassess. I’m going. I’m going because I am intersexed. I’m going because the doctors and nurses who treated me as an infant and a child and an adolescent, and those who continue to treat intersexed infants and children today, consider me “lost to follow-up.” I was lost— that’s part of the problem. Now, I’m back.

9:02 PM: Boston’s North End

I’m comfortably ensconced in Alice’s warehouse condo in Boston’s North End, a renovated warehouse with a view of the city skyline, ceilings easily twenty feet high, exposed beams and brick, gorgeous tile floor. As I speak, my hostess is preparing an absolutely phenomenal meal. The aroma of roasted peppers permeates the entire space. Tomorrow, the work begins; my project this evening is to unwind and enjoy this wonderful meal. Easier said than done. I’m feeling excited, enervated, I feel very alive, something I don’t feel very often, I feel very present and aware. It could be my exhaustion, it could be the Chardonnay. But I think, rather, that the excitement is anticipation about what we are about to do. Being here, finally being prepared to raise a voice, to be heard, to be seen, a vocal, out, proud hermaphrodite who is standing up to say, “Let’s rethink this, this isn’t working, we’ve been hurt, stop what you’re doing, listen to us!” I’m really looking forward to meeting Morgan at the airport in the morning; it’s always amazing to make eye contact with someone else who has been there.

October 25, 7:38 AM Boston Commons

En route to my encounter with the AAP, walking the approximately two miles from my hostess’ domicile to the Marriott Hotel at Copley Square, I pause in the Boston Commons to enjoy a park bench, to sip my Starbuck’s decaf, and to watch a group of senior citizens performing Japanese swordsmanship on top of the hill beneath a monument to some forgotten general. The city is cool this morning, but clear, and it promises to be a beautiful weekend. That’s good: we won’t be rained out. I’ve got a stack of about ninety ISNA brochures in the bag at my side, crammed in the inside pocket of my leather jacket. If I want these pamphlets to get inside, I’ve got to get to the site of the Nurses’ Panel at the Marriott before they close the doors. Then it’s back out to the airport, to pick up Morgan. My feet are already killing me.

October 26, 9:15 AM: North End

Morgan and I are sitting at our hostess’ breakfast table, pulling our thoughts together. In a few minutes, we’ll have to leave to pick up Riki at the airport. The logistics of pulling together an action are mind-boggling. There’s no describing the thrill, though, of all that work, all those phone calls, all those miles. Riding a clattering subway on a Saturday morning, seated beside another living, breathing, laughing, swearing intersexual, hugging near-strangers at unfamiliar airports, then riding back, together, defiant, determined, organized, to the heart of so much of our pain, so much of our anger, so much of our need. We gathered in front of the huge Hynes Auditorium, pamphlets and leaflets in hand, and met the AAP attendees as they left the convention center for lunch. The next hour-and-a-half was a blur, as we positioned ourselves in strategic locations before the Hynes, held signs and “Hermaphrodites with Attitude” banner aloft, distributed our literature, engaged AAP members and passers-by in conversation and debate, spoke to microphones, to cameras. In all that time, I recorded only one fragment of a breathless sentence. 

Saturday, 12:20 PM Outside the Hynes

We’ve got all the exits covered, and it’s an incredible, incredibly empowering experience. I remember the words I spoke to the TV camera, if only because I had scribbled a rough outline on the airplane, pirating mightily from Cheryl’s press release. And because the moment was so salient, so real. Me, Max, bespectacled, with blisters on my feet and chapped lips, speaking out to untold numbers of invisible viewers (and a few bewildered pediatricians behind me.)

"When an intersex child is born, parents and caregivers are faced with what seems to be a terrible dilemma: here is an infant who does not fit what our society deems normal. Immediate medical intervention seems indicated, in order to spare the parents and the child the inevitable stigmatization associated with being different. Yet the infant is not facing a medical emergency; intersexuality is rarely if ever life-threatening. Rather, the psychosocial crisis of the parents and caregivers is medicalized. 

Intersexuality is assumed to be a birth defect which can be corrected, outgrown and forgotten. The experiences of members of the intersex support groups indicate that intersexuality cannot be fixed; an intersex infant grows up to be an intersex adult. This hasn’t been explored, because intersex patients are almost invariably “lost to follow-up.” The abstract of a talk that will be given at this very conference by a doctor who treats intersex infants concedes that “the psychological issues surrounding genital reconstruction are inadequately understood.”

Part of the problem is that we were lost to follow-up, and there were reasons for that. But we’re here today to say we’re back, we’re no longer lost, and we’d like to offer some feedback. We’re here to say that the treatment paradigm for “managing” intersexuals is in desperate, urgent need of re-examination. We’re back to say that early surgical intervention leads to more than “just” physical scars and sexual dysfunction. We’re back to say that the lack of education and counseling for intersexuals, our families and the community at large does not lead to a blissful, healthy, well-adjusted ignorance. Rather, it too often leads to a life-threatening shroud of silence, secrecy, and self-hatred. I’m here representing over one hundred fifty intersexals throughout North America.

One hundred fifty intersexuals are saying: Please! Listen! You doctors, you pediatric endocrinologists and urologists treating intersexuals, you nurses interacting with intersexuals and their families, listen to us! We understand intersexuality, not because we have studied the medical literature — although many of us have — not because we have performed surgeries, but because we have been grappling with intersexuality every day of our lives. We’re here to say that those who would have us believe that intersexuality is rare, cloud the issue by breaking us and separating us into narrow etiological categories which have little meaning in terms of our actual, lived experience. We’re here so that other intersexuals can find us — for many of us, finding others like ourselves has been a lifealtering, even life-saving, experience. We’re here to reach parents before their intersex child is born. We’re here to elicit the help of other sympathetic professionals. We can take a stand as openly intersex adults without being crushed by shame! And we did!

7:20 PM: Boston’s North End

Goddess, this is so sweet, so liberating! I was so reluctant a week ago, having my Jesus-in-Gethsemane experience, reluctant to accept — not an onus or responsibility but — to accept who I am. And here’s where the hard work really begins. I’m exhausted when I think of the road before us. But then, it’s nothing like the road behind us. 

Max Beck, 1997.

[kamiversee]

˗ˏˋ My Love Note ´ˎ˗

2 | draws me so close

❧ Synopsis | In which Choso Kamo, your asshole of a best friend, starts to change after you get involved with a rather cheeky cashier, Gojo Satoru.

❧ Content | language, sexual tension, fluff, slight dirty talk, teeny tiny tinge of smut, flirting, suggestiveness, etc.

❧ Word Count | 6.7k

❧ Pairings | Choso Kamo x f!reader & Gojo Satoru x f!reader.

| Chapters mlist |

——Love truly is something beautiful, isn’t it? Especially the process of falling in love. It’s different for each person, the falling process. Some people stumble before they fall, some trip, and some simply leap into that fall.

But you, well, you do a bit of it all, really. You believe your first step toward falling in love was a trip— your heartbeat beginning to race, ears perking up whenever a certain someone opens his mouth, and finding yourself enamored by every second spent with the man…

It was a gradual thing. So much so that instead of love, it may have been a beautiful blend of lust and love in the beginning. And lusting for Gojo Satoru is something only a select few can say they’ve had the pleasure of doing, you being the newest to experience such.

From the day you met him, the friendship kinda just took off. That same day, you went home smiling from ear to ear all because you managed to get his number. Sure, you lived with your number one hater but, you’d deal with Choso and his attitude much later. All that occupied your brain when you got home was the oh-so-beautiful Gojo Satoru whose smile and flirtatious manner were etched into your brain after merely one day.

He had such a pretty smile, with cute dimples present on each side of his face, the most enamoring set of blue eyes-, fuck you could gush about his looks all damn day. Which is exactly why when you got to your apartment, you were quick to text him. Never would you let his number go to waste in your phone but it was truly surprising to receive a text back minutes later.

You’re not sure what you were expecting but it was pleasant to get a text back so quickly. From there, the conversation was just as charismatic and seamless as it was in person. Gojo was kinda an oddball but you think you liked that about him. Instead of constant texts asking what you were doing, he’d just tell you the most random things or ask bizarre questions.

This is what led to text after text, day after day, week after week. And in the midst of such activities, some texts became calls and some calls became Facetimes and before you knew it, you and Gojo were chatting it up every day. He’d have you laughing wee hours into the night, smiling seconds after you wake up to yet another spontaneous text, and giddy to start your day by going to that lovely cafe he works in.

These things became routine and you found yourself kicking off your senior year of university happily. Said routine continued unchangingly for about a month or so— cute moments of flirting, occasional hangouts, and these odd moments of longing looks shared that make both of your hearts skip a beat-

Okay, so that last bit is rather confusing for you. Often would you or Gojo find yourselves saying nothing and yet everything through your gazes alone. Despite how often it occurred, nothing but desirable glances took place. At least, until you found yourself knowing Gojo for a solid month and something had simply… changed.

· ───────── · ꨄ · ───────── ·

On a rather windy Friday morning, you were on your way to that cute lil’ cafe, as usual, and hadn’t expected anything to be different today in comparison to the days prior.

Based on the little routine you’ve built up, typically, when you enter the cafe, you’re met with Gojo who surprises you with a different drink for the day (though, it’s always sweet for some reason). To your surprise, today was a bit different as you were met with one of his other coworkers when you walked in— Shoko Ieiri.

Long chestnut brown hair, similarly shaded yet tired eyes meeting yours, and a slight smile etched onto her face at the sight of you, you’d met her maybe once or twice before but you weren’t expecting to see her today.

“Heyy cutie,” She greets simply as you approach the counter. Ah, her voice is so sweet while she’s talking to you— you’re convinced it’s a requirement to be attractive in order to work at this cafe because so far everyone you’ve met is ridiculously hot.

You grace her with a smile, “Morning Shoko, you seem happier than normal…”

“I got out of workin’ late today by swapping shifts with Geto sooo, yeah, I guess you could say I’m happier than normal,” She explains, shrugging casually before tilting her head and narrowing her eyes at you, “Lemme guess, you’re here for Gojo?”

“I-, I mean… He texted me this morning telling me to come here earlier than normal so… yeah, actually,” You give her a sheepish little grin, glancing off to the side at how quickly she was able to see through you.

Nodding, Shoko gestures her head toward the back, “He’s in the storage room I think.”

Your brows pinch together, “…Am I allowed back there?”

“Girl, I don’t get paid enough to care,” She teases, chuckling a bit, “I’m sure you’ll be fine, go on.”

At that, you nod and then make your way around the counter. It was a bit weird for you to head further into the cafe like this, even though no one else aside from Shoko and Gojo was there. So as you passed Shoko and made your way to the back, you glanced at the woman once more with a look of worry.

To which she sent you a smile and gestured her hand for you to keep going. Then, you sighed and kept walking back, soon making a left that led to a small hallway with a few different rooms. One was a restroom, another a breakroom, and the last was the storage room.

You carefully approached the door to the storage room, which was cracked open, and pushed past it to enter. Your eyes were quickly met with Gojo’s back profile, his hands busy with something in front of himself and seeming as though he were looking through some kind of box.

He must’ve heard your footsteps because his voice is hitting your ears before you even get the chance to say anything, “Shoko I swear I was comin’ back out on just a second, I still can’t find my-,” He’s cut off by a pair of hands cupping his eyes from behind, to which Gojo freezes. “…You’re not Shoko, are you?”

You snort, “That’s such a cliche thing to say, oh my god…” Still keeping your hands over his eyes, you tilt your head and move to peak over his shoulder, “But since we’re bein’ cliche today, guess who?”

Gojo’s lips immediately curl into a smile, “Guess who, huh?”

“Mhmm,” You hum.

“Could you be that one cute girl who’s been comin’ in every day at around 8:13 am, perchance?” Gojo takes his ‘wild’ guess, his shoulders relaxing as the seconds of you being with him pass.

You giggle, “Did you really just say perchance?”

“I did,” Gojo utters suavely, “So, is my guess correct or should I be feeling uncomfortable that some random chick snuck back here and put her hands on me…?”

Giggle turning into a full-on laugh, you lift your hands off of his eyes and he looks back at you over his shoulder. “Your guess is correct, don’t worry,” You tell him as his gaze finally lands on you.

You think you can hear the faint thump in your heart as his face comes surprisingly close to yours due to the simple glance over his shoulder that you’d been peeking over.

Glancing right down at your lips for a split second, and then looking into your eyes, Gojo lets out a soft sigh, “Hi sweetheart.”

You gush, “Hi Satoru.”

He smelled maddeningly good, the space between you and him small and the eye contact almost intimate. Little did you know, Gojo was thinking the same thing as you— loving every second he got to inhale your sweet perfume.

“You look pretty today,” He suddenly compliments, voice lowering.

You quiet your voice to mimic his, “As do you.”

“Yeah?” Gojo starts lifting his hands out of the box he’d been digging in and then he turns his body to face you, tilting his head, “Y’think I’m pretty now?”

“I’ve always thought you were pretty,” You admit, shrugging your shoulders a bit.

The male pauses, eyes steady yet shameless to trail down your figure, “What’s so pretty about me, hm?” Gojo pries, leaning forward a little.

Playfully, you lift a hand to his chest to keep him from getting too close to you, “How about I answer that after you tell me why you wanted me to come here so early?” You divert as you raise a curious brow.

“Oh, no reason in particular, jus’ wanted to see you before I actually start working,” He explains while he glances down at your hand on his chest.

“Why?” You question further, eyes wide and as curious as ever.

Gojo gulps and suddenly avoids your gaze, something he’s only done a select number of times. From what you’ve picked up, it’s whenever you fluster him. “I can’t just want to see you?” He murmurs.

The hand on his chest shifts and you move to drag your finger against him, stepping forward ever so slightly, “Satoru… what’re you not telling me, hm?”

Your fingernail trails back up and stops where his heart is. You swear you feel it beating a million beats a minute and his breath hitches quietly. Gojo swallows thickly before moving his eyes to you again, “Uhm, well…” And he’s lost in your gaze all over again, especially as you tilt your head and bat your lashes at him. Brows tense, “There’s this-,” He clears his throat and shakes his head to snap out of his trance, “There’s this thing.”

“What thing?” You hum.

His voice gets lower, “This thing I wanted to… invite you to,” Gojo slowly gets out.

At that, both your eyes and your facial expression light up, “Really? What’s the ‘thing’ and when is it?”

He lets out a breath of air, seeming to have gotten something off of his chest with that, “You seem more excited about this than I thought you’d be…”

“I’m always excited when you invite me out somewhere,” You say with a slight laugh.

“Yeah but, it’s not… it’s not a casual hangout like we normally do,” Gojo sighs, moving to slip his hands into his pockets.

“Sooo…” You lean in, “What is it then?”

Gojo gulps yet again, “I-It’s this yearly thing my family does. Normally I take Suguru with me but last year my parents got on my ass about not bringing a date so…”

“Geto can’t be your date?”

“I-,” Gojo finally seems to lighten up, chuckling at your comment, “No, Suguru cannot be my date. I don’t want to take him as my date.”

You move to cross your arms, tilting your head as you stare at the man, “So then, you’re asking me out right now?”

“N-No,” He stammers, eyes widening at you for a split second before he watches the way your face twists into confusion.

“No?” You echo, raising a brow.

Gojo clears his throat and lifts a hand to scratch the back of his neck, “Yes but no.”

“So what is this then, Satoru?” A slight smile starts to draw across your face as you notice how nervous he is about this— it’s almost cute, “Are you askin’ me out on a date or not-“

“I’m asking you to come as my date,” He tries his best to clarify but you’re still left confused.

You blink, “What’s the difference?”

Gojo takes a deep breath, “If I were to take you out it’d be a lot different than me inviting you to some stupid gala my prestigious ass family-“

“Did you just say gala??” Your head cocks back a little and your lashes bat excessively, shocked by what just came out of his mouth.

The man gulps and his gaze shies to the side, “…I did.”

You step forward a little and lean closer in an attempt to get him to look at you again, “Your family’s hosting a gala and you’re inviting me as your date??”

Gojo quickly shifts his eyes onto you again, taking note of your closeness and how brightly your eyes are gleaming, “Yeah?” He replies, furrowing his brows.

“I-,” You sigh and then smile, “Satoru why didn’t you just say that to begin with?”

“B-Because you started making it seem like I’d be taking you on a date date and that’s not what this is-“

“Lemme guess then,” Cutting him off, you’re reminded of something you’ve done before. As such, you take a wild guess as to where this is going, “You want me to pretend to be your girlfriend or something to get your parents off your ass for a night?”

Gojo blinks, “Uhm-, well, yes, actually. That’s exactly what I want you to do.”

A sigh slips out of your mouth, “Again, why didn’t you just say that?”

He pouts and looks away, “I-I don’t know…”

“Satoru…” You utter, stepping closer yet again, there’s barely a foot of space between you and him now and you tip your torso toward him.

Gojo stares down at you, goosebumps unknowingly rising along his skin the longer he peers into those eyes of yours, “Hm?”

Almost innocently, “Do I make you nervous?” You ask, tone light and genuine. You truly weren’t trying to tease him but he may have seemed like you were anyway.

Especially with how he scoffs dramatically, “Pfft, you make me nervous?” Gojo laughs and looks away, “Y-You?” He unintentionally stutters.

You snort and go to mock him, “Y-Yeah, m-me.”

His casual expression returns and he rolls his eyes before settling them onto yours again, “You think you’re soo funny, huh?”

“A lil bit, yeah,” You reply cheekily.

Gojo mirrors your expression with a soft smile, “You’re lucky you’re cute.”

“So I’ve been told,” You tease, “Anywho, when uh, when’s that gala of yours?”

The question makes him tense up where he stands and he tries to casually mumble out an answer, “Tonight…”

“T-Tonight?” You gasp, eyes going wide.

Gojo nods, “Mhm…”

You groan slightly before standing up straight, moving to pinch the bridge of your nose and shutting your eyes, “Why’d you wait til’ today to invite me?”

“I was nervous,” He admits honestly, grinning at how cute you look frustrated.

The second your eyes flutter open, he wipes the smile off of his face so you don’t catch him admiring you. Then, you raise a brow at him, “I thought you said I don’t make you nervous?”

Gojo lets off a little shrug, “I lied.”

You grin, “Right, and is there like a dress code I have to follow or…?”

“Yeah, but don’t worry, I can buy you something to wear if you want.” He offers.

That’s oddly kind of him, “Really?” You gape.

“Yeah ‘nd if we go right after I get off today I could even get a dress tailored for you if you want,” Gojo starts to think deeper about this, clearly having not planned this out before asking you.

“But the gala is tonight… How are you gonna-”

“I have my connections,” He chirps confidently.

“Mmmh,” Your eyes narrow at him for a mere second before you nod, “Alright then.”

His face brightens up, “So, you’ll go with me?”

“As your fake girlfriend to impress your family for a night?”

“Mhm.”

You nearly say yes but then, a thought begins to itch your brain and you can’t help but scratch, “Why didn’t you just ask Shoko or something-”

“I wanted to pretend to date someone I’m at least attracted to,” Gojo says as if that was the most obvious thing in the world.

You giggle to yourself and your voice lowers, “Could’ve taken Geto if that was the case-”

“What? I am not-,” Gojo pauses as he notices you snickering. Then he sighs, “Listen, Suguru’s hot, sure, but I’m not interested in him in that kinda way.”

You chuckle, “Mhm, sure you aren’t-”

“I’m interested in you though.” Gojo abruptly blurts out.

Your breath and anything else you were going to say get caught right in the middle of your throat and you choke. Clearing your throat you turn your head to the side to avoid showing how much that caught you off guard. Your face feels as though it were burning and you didn’t even know what to say.

Gojo, finding such a reaction cute as hell, smiles and steps a bit closer to you, eliminating all distance between you and him, the tips of his feet touching yours. A gentle and almost hesitant hand is placed on your waist, making your entire body go rigid as his other hand goes to your chin, forcing you to face him and look him in the eye properly.

“You knew that already though,” He whispers.

It was almost as though the entire atmosphere between you and him had changed in a matter of seconds.

You gulp, “D-Did I?”

Gojo lifts a careful brow, “I talk to you every day and we flirt all the time, isn’t it obvious?”

“I mean, yeah but…” You stare back and forth between his left and right eye— fuck, that shade of blue is so mesmerizing. “You can’t just say it like that,” You murmur lightly.

He tilts his head tauntingly and it makes you nervous for some reason, “I can’t say I’m interested in you?”

Heart skipping a beat, your gaze flies to the side, “No…”

Gojo leans his head in the direction you’ve looked off to, “Why not, pretty girl?”

And it’s right then and there that all your nerves get caught up and you become a stuttering mess, “C-Cause… It’s-,” You stop yourself for a second and he’s still just watching you struggle. Then you try to meet his eyes again and speak but your voice ends up dying off again, “You’re… uhm…”

The corner of his lips twitched into a stupidly attractive smirk, “You nervous?” Gojo teases.

God, if the tone of his voice doesn’t make you want to melt away into nothingness at this very moment. All you can do is nod, “Mhm.”

“I’ve never seen you this nervous,” He comments, eyes trailing up and down your flustered expression. Gojo finds himself whispering a curse beneath his breath, “Fuck. S’kinda cute,” He teases.

You grit your teeth and swallow down your nervousness, trying your best to return to teasing him instead, “Don’t you have a job to get back to?” You utter to change the subject.

The two of you were maddingly close to one another, Gojo’s got a hand lightly on your waist, your chest is a hair away from touching his, and your faces… hell, you swear if you breathe too hard they’ll be touching.

“It can wait,” He murmurs.

You bat your eyelashes as your eyes remain elsewhere, “What for?”

Gojo whispers your name and you tense up, “Look at me,” He directs, making your heart throb. You’re slow to do so but when you do, the two of you pause and simply take in one another's closeness, “See this?” He nods his chin slightly at the little space between you and him.

You sigh, “What?”

“The tension between us,” Gojo explains, eyes lowering down to your lips, “I could never pull this kinda thing off with Shoko.”

A shy little smile spreads across your face, “Right…”

“Nor would I ever have such a strong desire to kiss her,” The man suddenly blurts out. You could tell he didn’t mean to say that out loud by the way his cheeks flushed ever so slightly and his gaze flicked up to your eyes as if he’d been caught doing something he wasn’t supposed to.

You maintain eye contact and your breathing finally seems to grow steady, “Are you saying you wanna kiss me?” Tempting, your tone was— leaving Gojo so ridiculously drawn to you.

His gaze is almost full of need, “Would you let me if I did?”

“Maybe,” You utter, tilting your head ever so slightly.

The two of you had been inching your faces closer and closer unknowingly, lips almost against one another with the way you’ve tipped your head to the side.

Gojo looks down at your mouth, “Well I do,” He breathes out, nearly forgetting to finish his statement, “Want to kiss you…” He then clears his throat, “I wanna kiss you, can I?”

Your eyes are just as low as his are, soft breaths hitting one another’s skin before you let out a hum, “Mhm.”

It’s right then that he pauses, almost as if he wasn’t sure you just answered him. In his head, surely this was a mere dream. There was no way the girl he’d met but a month ago was allowing him to kiss her. And yet, there you were, gazing just as longingly as he was, lips almost touching, hearts pounding in unison— an enigma you were, truly.

After his little moment, he finally leans in, shuts his eyes, and presses his lips against yours. The sound of you letting out a hum almost immediately makes Gojo want to swoon, another hand of his grabbing the vacant side of your waist and tugging you closer to him. 

Your chest mashes into him and your arms are quick to move, sliding up and circling around his neck. Gojo’s lips twitch as he smiles against you and you feel his arms start to wrap around your waist, holding you nice and close. His lips were soft against yours, gentle, and slow as he took his time against you.

Your first time kissing Gojo being in the storage room of a cafe was quite laughable, really. Or at least, it would’ve been if things didn’t get heated rather after a bit.

At first, Gojo would just pull away slightly so both of you could breathe, barely open his eyes, and then smile before pressing his lips into yours again. This action was repeated a few times up until you took it upon yourself to part your lips over his, tugging his lower lip into your mouth and attempt pushing your tongue in.

His brows bush together at your action before his body begins to react. Stepping forward with you, Gojo slips his tongue out only to slide past yours and slither into your mouth instead of his. You nearly smiled at how he so clearly wanted to control the kiss, his hands shifting to explore your backside.

One of his hands slid up along your spine and the other dipped down to the small of your back, all as his tongue delved deep into your mouth and you released a slight noise that made his brain turn to mush.

Gojo steps forward with you again and his hand moves to your waist for a second before he starts playing with the edge of your shirt, fingertips just barely brushing over your bare skin. Your feet shuffle back as he begins to kiss you harder, more eagerly, up until your heel hits the edge of a door, prompting both of you to break away from the kiss.

A heavy pant is shared as your lips detach and a wet smack echoes into the air. Your eyes flutter open and you find Gojo still gazing down at your lips, refusing to look away.

You swallow and take a deep breath, “Satoru, we-“

The hand that was up along your spine is removed and Gojo pushes the door behind you shut. Then, all in one motion, he’s using the hand still on your waist to shove you back up against it, your breath getting caught in your throat all over again.

Your lashes flutter once more and you’re just standing there breathless with your mouth agape. Gojo, who’s yet to say a word, is panting so hard that it seems like he’s about to lose himself just from merely kissing you.

You go to whisper to him, “Satoru.”

He just nods, “Mhm…”

“We should… probably stop,” You suggest and you don’t miss how he grips onto your waist for a moment, his eyebrows twisting upward and lip poking out slightly.

“Stop?” Gojo whispers, barely lifting his eyes, “You want me to stop?”

You stare. Then, you look away, “Not really but, we should.”

The man’s got one arm practically above your head that’s still resting against the door, his other holding onto your waist, and his body right against yours. Your hands are loosely at his shoulders and you keep looking away from him, an action that’s genuinely driving him mad.

Gojo tilts his head toward where you’re looking off to and your eyes steadily find his.

“One more,” He whispers.

You blink, “One more?”

He’s nodding all eagerly and it’s kinda cute, “Uhuh.” Then Gojo leans in again.

“Fine but,” The man’s practically got his lips against yours as you try to finish speaking and you can’t help but smile, “…Don’t forget you have a job to go do.” You remind him in a sly whisper.

Gojo scoffs, “M’busy tryin’ to do you,” He utters boldly, “The job can wait.”

And then, his lips are on yours yet again. If his bold words just now didn’t have your body hot then it was definitely the way you feel his hard chest press against yours. God, you could only imagine every cut and crease of his muscles that lay beneath that flimsy shirt and apron of his.

Gojo’s busy tonguing your throat as you fantasize about what he looks like under all those clothes until he gets touchy again. That hand of his finally slips under your shirt and you jump at the contact of his warm veiny hand sliding against your bare side.

The faintest whine escapes the back of your throat and he doesn’t miss it for even a second. Tipping his head further to the side to really press into your mouth, Gojo pulls away for a split second just to whisper, “She’s sensitive,” He teases.

You hum at that but don’t get the chance to verbally reply before his moist lips connect with yours again. Gojo may be a shy idiot at times but you forget all about that while he’s kissing you, his hand sliding to your back again, fingertips caressing your skin before he pulls your body up against his and shifts a single leg in between yours.

Oh he knew what he was doing there. The way his thigh presses against your crotch tells you everything. And he knows his little movement was successful as he feels your hips shift forward against him, yearning for friction.

Gojo pulls back a little just to suck on your lower lip, then he moves to run his teeth over the skin and tug slightly, hearing the way you whine yet again. The arm that was caging you from above slips off of the door and Gojo latches that hand to your hip, guiding you forward against his leg.

Then, it happens. It was such a small sound, such a faint movement, but there you were— letting out a not-so-silent moan of his name, “Satoru,” You call out, not sure what for at this point.

The man just groans before his lips are all over yours, this time slipping off to the side of your mouth, trailing to your jaw, and moving right under your jawline as your head tips back.

“Drivin’ me crazy,” Gojo whispers against your skin, breath warm and ticklish, “Shit.”

Hot and open-mouthed kisses are decorating your neck and both of his hands are on your hips, holding you steady before he starts sliding his leg back and forth just a little bit.

You gasp and one of your hands flies down to his wrist, as if that would stop the movement of his leg. “W-Wait-, fuck, I thought…” You trail off a bit as he shifts his thigh and it suddenly presses against your clothed cunt all too perfectly— his leg was so muscular and the sudden pressure of him pressing against you had your legs weak. “Hahh… S-Satoru, you…”

He pries away from your neck, “Hm?” Gojo hums all innocently as if he doesn’t know what he’s doing.

Gojo lifts his face to get a good look at your expression and fuck if it didn’t take every cell in his body for his cock not to spring up at that very second. Your eyes were all low, lips parted, breathing heavy, and eyebrows twisted up slightly— you were so clearly aroused and the man found it difficult not to savor this moment.

Encouraging this expression of yours, his leg starts moving back and forth against you and he eyes the way your jaw drops further and your torso pushes up, back arching a little.

“Satoru,” Oh the way your voice was all breathy and your eyes full of pure need had his head spinning.

Gojo licks his lips, “What? Y’wanna get off on my leg or somethin’?”

You shake your head, “N-No… I want you to, hah, stop.”

In an instant, almost like a trained dog, his leg just halts. Body freezing and eyes everywhere on you, Gojo looked as though he was awaiting your next order after that.

You take a moment to catch your breath before leaning your head forward and resting against his shoulder, “This was… we uhm… we were getting too… y’know.”

“No,” Gojo taunts, “I don’t know. Why’d you want me to stop, hm? Did I make you uncomfortable?”

Your eyes go wide and you lift your head immediately, “No, you did the exact opposite.”

He has this smug look on his face, “Did I?”

Blinking, your eyes narrow at him, “Yes, you-“

“So why’d you stop me then?” Gojo interrupts.

You choke before clearing your throat, “B-Because we don’t have time to… continue this.”

He scoffs, cocking a brow, “Think so?”

“I know so,” You argue.

As always, he just peers down at you for a long moment, admiring every little thing about you. Then, he shrugs, “Y’know… I could’ve made you cum in a few minutes-“

You slap your hands over his mouth on instinct and your eyes go wide, “…I don’t need you to uh, do that.”

“Why?” His voice is muffled against your palm, “I know you’re turned on.”

“That doesn’t matter,” You argue as you slowly take your hands away, “We don’t have time.”

Gojo chuckles but he’s dead serious as he speaks, “Instead of all this talkin’, I could’ve been knuckle deep inside your pussy gettin’ you off like I know you want me to-“

“Jesus, Satoru,” You breathe, turning your head away from him in pure embarrassment due to the sudden throb in between your legs his words caused.

He pauses, watching how flustered his statement just made you. Then, he smirks, “We probably had enough time for me to get my tongue on you too-“

You frown, “Satoru.”

Gojo continues anyway, “Could’ve been on my knees in between your thighs right now, sweetheart.”

“I-“

“I promise you I’m an expert with my tongue,” He cuts off, staring you down like a man starved.

Gradually bringing yourself to look at him again, you swallow, “I’m sure you are but…”

“But?” His head weighs to the side curiously.

You shrug and nod your chin toward the surrounding area, “…In a storage room, seriously? Shoko’s literally right around the corner and you have to get back to work. We can’t do this.”

“We can, you just don’t want to,” Gojo clarifies.

“Later, Satoru. We can do… this, later,” You result in saying, “A-And preferably somewhere else.”

For a second, he seems to want to plead otherwise but, you do make a good point. He doesn’t need anyone scolding him for getting distracted in the storage room. Sighing, “Promise?” Gojo asks.

You grin, “Yeah, I guess. I-,” You cut yourself off once you notice he’s moved to hold his pinky out for you. You chuckle, “Dork…”

Then, you lock your pinky with his and he flashes this giddy smile at you, dimples poking out once more. “Did you just call me a dork?” He gasps dramatically.

“I did,” You hum as the two of you start to peel off of one another.

Gojo puts on this fake pout, “S’not nice,” He mumbles.

You watch as he moves to open the storage room and smile at him, “But it’s true.”

At that, Gojo simply rolls his eyes and you exit the storage room with him following behind you. The two of you act as though nothing had really happened in there and casually go about your days afterward.

Although, mentally— both of you were gushing over what had just taken place. So much so that after you end up getting your drink of the day from Gojo and wave him and Shoko bye, he’s watching you in awe whilst you get further away from the cafe.

“You fucked her, didn’t you?” Shoko blurts out suddenly, making Gojo snap out of his little reverie. 

Brows furrowing, “Did you hear her moanin’?”

Shoko scoffs, “No.”

“There’s your answer then,” Gojo utters cockily as he turns away with a smirk on his face.

Both chuckle but in Shoko’s mind, the two of you definitely did something in that storage room. She no idiot and you’re not the first girl to have been brought to the back by Gojo. Though, you are the first that’s had him smiling ear to ear like that…

· ───────── · ꨄ · ───────── ·

Meanwhile, you’re practically skipping as you leave the cafe, taking the same path you usually do to head toward the nearby lot.

All you can do is replay everything that just happened, how cute Gojo was, the way he kept looking at you, the way he kissed you, touched you, held you, groaned against you-

Your face is getting hot the more you think about it and before you know it, you’ve got a smile all over your face. Hell, you almost forgot he invited you as his date to some family event of his. His family must be quite rich and important for them to be hosting some gala. 

It makes you wonder whether or not you've ever heard of the Gojo family before him… Alas, with no recollection of such a name, you shrug off the thought and tell yourself you’ll learn more about them later tonight. You’re sure they’ll be just as sweet as Gojo. Maybe they’ll even-

So caught up in your thoughts, you walk right into someone, your head coming in contact with someone’s chest and feeling pain in seconds. Fuck, did you walk into a wall?

Lifting a hand to your forehead, you rub it slightly, “Sorry, didn’t mean to walk into-,” Your gaze lifts to the person and your facial expression drops, “Oh. It’s just you. Your chest is hard as hell…”

Choso bats his lashes at you in disbelief, “Thank you?”

You roll your eyes, “Not a compliment.”

He chuckles and tips his head to the side, watching you rub your skin to soothe the pain. On instinct, Choso lifts his hand, swats your fingers away, and shifts to help ease the pain himself, “Yeah it is, dumbass. Means’ goin’ to the gym has been paying off.” He argues.

You sigh and drop your hand, allowing him to massage where it hurts like it’s nothing, “Whatever-“

“Lemme guess, you jus’ came from seein’ your boyfriend?” Choso questions curiously.

“He’s not my boyfriend,” You huff and his hand slides a bit to caress you, “But yes, I am coming from the cafe if that’s what you’re askin’. Where are you headed?”

“To get a coffee, duh,” Your best friend huffs. His voice completely contrasts how softly he’s touching you right now and it’s almost laughable.

You nod, “Uhuh, well, have fun.” The dismissiveness in your tone makes Choso feel weird.

After all, ever since you met Gojo, you’ve practically found yourself a new best friend. Even though you and Choso live in the same apartment, he swears he hasn’t been seeing or talking to you much within the past month and it’s odd for him to experience.

So, as you pull your head away from his hand and go to step past him, he’s blurting out, “Wait,” Without a second thought.

You pause and look at him, “Hm?”

“Uh,” Choso stares for a minute, forgetting why the hell he stopped you before he clears his throat, “You alright?”

Blinking, “Yes, why? Your chest wasn’t that hard, I just walked into you so-“

“No, I mean like, in general.” He explains, turning his body so that he’s facing you completely, “We haven’t talked much lately.”

That statement makes you freeze and you stare at your best friend with the most confused look ever. He’s not usually this concerned so, it’s almost weird to see, “I’m fine, Cho. Is everything okay with you?”

Almost like a little puppy, Choso nods his head, “Y-Yeah,” He’s quick to clear his throat and you may have imagined it but you swear the tips of his ears just went red, “Yeah, m’fine. I just uh… I dunno, miss talkin’ to my best friend, is all.”

You gasp overdramatically, “Do you??” Oh the teasing tone has him regretting what he just said in seconds, “Awww Chosoo, you miss me-“

“Don’t ruin it,” He cuts off, but you’re already moving to wrap your arms around his waist and hug him. Choso sighs and looks down at you embracing him, gulping, “Get off of me.”

You shift your head to look up at him and smile, “Hug me back first, don’t be weird. You’re the one who said you missed me-“

“I said I missed talking to you,” Choso huffs, not moving his arms in the slightest.

You frown, “Cho…”

“Stop calling me that,” He sighs, avoiding looking at your expression all of a sudden.

Rolling your eyes, you give up and start to pull away from him. Yet, your weirdo of a best friend finally moves to tug you back toward him, big arms wrapping around your head and pulling you into his chest gently. You chuckle against him and he grumbles something under his breath.

“We can talk after my class, okay?” You hum into his chest.

Choso nods, “Will you actually be home for once?”

“For a lil’ bit, yeah,” You snicker, “I actually have a lot to tell you but I’ll save it for after class, ‘kay?”

He looks down at you in his arms and you angle your head to look up at him. Choso’s expression is as unreadable as always but you’re smiling. As such, he just barely grins at you, “Alright.” He grumbles in that deep voice of his.

You beam and then pull off of him, to which he almost reluctantly lets you go. And then, his eyes drop to that drink in your hand and he nearly says something but he holds his tongue, instead moving to wave you bye whilst you turn away.

You return a wave of departure to him before walking off. Choso stands there for a while, watching you get further away from him. It was weird but, for the first time in a while, he was almost excited to talk to you later.

He wonders what it is you want to share with him, especially since you usually share everything with him but haven’t been doing so recently. Perhaps you were just too caught up with Gojo Satoru, Choso wonders to himself. At that thought, he sucks his teeth and rolls his eyes, stuffing his hands into his pockets and moving to continue his walk.

All Choso can do is hope that your becoming friends with Gojo hasn’t changed anything between you and him. After all, he’s the one who’s been by your side for nearly eight years…

With that, Choso chuckles at himself. The hell is he getting all worked up for? Clearly, based on that little hug and the smiles you gave, you still see him as your best friend. He’s not being replaced.

…Right?

Or was it just that you were only happy because of something that’d happened with Gojo? Scoffing, Choso tries to clear his head a bit. The fuck has gotten into him? It’s you he’s talking about here. Again, he’s not being replaced.

Or at least he thinks he’s not…

mlist | last chapter | next chapter |

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[the-californicationist]

Cali Cali bo-bali banana fana fo-fali me my mo mali! Cali!

I'm three Budweisers in and got an itch for alpha Price with a sudden need to breed (yay! Surprise rut!), and there's his sweet smelling omega neighbor who he's been keeping at arm's length because he's a professional dammit and has complete control of his urges, thank you very much.

Honestly, I just wanna see Mr. "I'm Married to My Job" lose it and show back up on base abashed and mated, and also ridiculously proud of his lil omega's claiming bite, because "she turned into a wildcat, lads. I couldn't stop her." *wink-wink*

Or not. I'm happy with any smutty Price fic you bestow on us, really. I'm just being weirdly specific because— alcohol = horny thots. 🍺😏🥴🫠

Drunken hugs 🫂 from Random Thot

RTG!! You are the most amazing person, and every time I see your pfp on AO3 or tumblr, I just get all gooey inside. Thank you for the ask! I wrote (and fully deleted) this fic three times because I wanted to get it right. I just pray that I could deliver. <3 <3 Hope this is what you were hoping for!!

MDNI/NSFW -- TW: damsel in distress, ABO dynamics, knotting, fuck-or-die scenarios, CNC, fluids, PIV sex, female OC

Glory, Glory

It was his last beer of the night, and he was ripping it apart. Curling, soggy shards of the torn label were stuck under his thumbnail, darkening the translucent edge and making it look dirty. They littered the sticky, lacquered bartop like ugly snow, falling in a tiny, chaotic mess. His hands were more than just dirty, the captain thought to himself as he used his wide thumb to itch at the glue-covered glass, rolling little, paper shards away from the smooth surface to reveal the amber liquid swirling within. The captain’s hands; they were covered in blood. Not innocent blood, but blood all the same. They’d never be clean again. 

But, that was the job, and he was good at it. His hands were a direct reflection of his hard work. Killing evil bastards kept the world safe. Some poor sob in a factory could clean out the glue-painting machine that pasted these fuckin’ labels on all of these bloody beer bottles because of one unshakable truth: John Price was good at killing evil bastards.

Unfortunately, the killing would need to wait until after the mandated leave window closed again. His argument with Kate still grated inside of his head. He could almost hear her harsh, Yank accent in his ears.

“What do you want me to tell payroll, John? You can’t be here. You’ve got too many days. Go home. See your mom.”

“I see her plenty, Katie. Let me run that ops gig with Keller. C’mon. I’ll do overwatch,” he tried his best to weasel his way back into a bit of active duty.

“You’d be the world’s most expensive overwatch. Hell no. Here’s your ticket,” she shoved an envelope in his hands, “...and your money,” another envelope, “Go the fuck home, Captain. That’s an order.”

An order. More like a toothless threat. 

But, alas, here he was, staring at a freshly shaved, buzzcut version of himself in a filthy pub mirror, undressing bottles left and right. 

“Another, mate?” The barkeep pointed to his almost-empty drink, making a slight grimace at the paper graveyard that was sprinkled across his bar.

“No,” John sighed, pulling out a few notes from his wallet, “I’m off.”

“Happy Christmas,” the barkeep took the bills and didn’t bother to look up again, setting himself to sweeping the torn strips off of the surface, preparing for the next paying customer. 

“You, too,” John muttered, tugging his black wool beanie over his ears before braving the classic cold, wet, and windy Liverpudlian night. 

He didn’t live far. John’s mum had kept up his loft down by the docks, but it certainly didn’t feel like home. Home wasn’t real. Not anymore. As he walked along the Mersey’s edge, he peered into the black water, wondering if he’d ever truly go home again. 

All of a sudden, he heard a shrill scream. Every sense that had been dulled by his lager was now as sharp as a blade and set on its edge. Again, a high-pitched shout pealed through the night air, beckoning him back to his heroism. That keening was the sound of some evil that needed stamping out, and he was hungry for it. 

He sprinted through the warehouse district, chasing the noise of scuffling, ducking behind alleys and abandoned garages, looking for the source. Finally, there was a flash of red that caught his eye, so he ran towards it, his mind making sense of the scene in front of him. 

Voices were jumbled and mashed up together, barely registering in his mind.

“Out here in a fuckin’ heat. Dumb bitch! C’mere.”

“She’s got a knife!”

“C’mere, you little slag. Get –”

In the middle of three huge, stinking Alphas, a tiny Omega was struggling, arm outstretched, brandishing her knife at them to keep them at bay. John came up behind the biggest one, some bald fuck with a dirty coat, and dropped him, cracking his spine in two places with well-placed fists, and breaking his jaw on his way down to the ground, leaving him groaning on the concrete. 

One of his mates, a older man with thick, black eyebrows, lunged at Price, a look of indignant surprise on his face. The Omega screamed, her red coat yanked back over her face by the third man, her knife clattering to her feet. Price focused on Mister Eyebrows, dodging a lazy haymaker before popping him twice in the nose, drawing out his blood and knocking out at least two of his front teeth. Then, John grabbed him by the collar, pulling his jaw into his raised knee and listening to the satisfying splash as he fell into a murky puddle. 

Finally, he set his sights on the last Alpha of the pack whose ropey arm was looped across the Omega’s neck, choking the air from her lungs. He growled at Price, his scent turning to rancid fear,

“Stay back! She’s mine, you big bastard.”

The captain had nothing to say. With a practiced ease, he side-stepped her assailant, breaking the elbow that controlled her throat, making him release her immediately. The evil bastard stumbled back, hand outstretched, bargaining for his life, 

“Wait, wait. I’ll share her with you, how’s that? I’ll even let you have first go!”

A deafening howl came out of his mouth as Price’s boot heel made contact with his kneecap, forcing it to snap at a terrible angle. John’s hand shot out and grabbed the man by the hair on the crown of his head, tugging cruelly at his scalp. Without mercy, John slammed his face into a nearby bollard, and the howling stopped.

It was quiet again aside from the Omega’s trembling breaths. She had recovered the knife and was now pointing it towards John with shaking hands and wide, determined eyes. 

“You alright, love?” Price asked, holding his hands up in a sign of peace, edging towards her in gentle, predictable steps. 

“Y-yeah… Stay! Stay right there,” her voice was bright and clear, and he could hear her strength laced through her words. He stopped in his tracks, respecting her wishes.

“What are you doin’ all the way out here, darlin’?”

“They dragged me over here from Baltic Fleet,” she straightened up, getting her bearings, wiping the blood from a small cut in her cheek, “Fuckin’ bastards. Thank you, by the way.”

“Jus’ doin’ my job,” Price shrugged, waiting for her to lower the knife even further before he continued his approach.

“Police?” She asked, a little confused. 

“Not exactly,” Price smiled, offering a hand out to her, “John Price, Captain of His Majesty’s RAF service.”

“Oh,” she studied him for a moment, and then her eyes fell to the hand, ready to bite but deciding to shake it instead. 

When he touched her skin, Price felt her fever. Shocked, he tightened his grip, not meaning to startle her but too surprised by her temperature to ignore it.

“Christ, love. You’re burnin’ up.”

As quick as a flash, she yanked her hand out of his grasp and retreated back towards the wall of the warehouse behind her, scooting her way towards the corner to get out of his range, ready to bolt. She didn’t respond, but John watched as she wiped her brow, dotted with sweat and covered in concern. 

“Hey,” he moved forward again protectively, “You can’t be out here alone. Not like this. At least let me walk with you. I’ll stay ten paces behind. It’s not safe.”

“I’m fine,” she said with more strength in her voice than what she was ready to produce.

“You’re not. You’re in a bloody heat. When did it start?” He watched as her knees began to tremble, and against her obvious wishes, he helped her sit on the warehouse deck, letting her keep the knife so she could feel safe. 

“Yesterday…” She closed her eyes, trying to shake it off, “It’s… I’m fine. It’s never this bad.”

Now that he was close to her, Price was smothered by the scent of her body. The Omegan glands in her neck smelled like thick, wild honey, and her heat was mixing with her aroma, turning an already sweet smell into a lucious, decadent gourmand, pulling him in like quicksand. 

“C’mon,” he helped her up, “Where’s your place? I’ll get you close.”

The clang of her knife made him glance up to see her eyes closed and her mouth slack. She was out, too weak to withstand the fever and the physical exertion. 

Price felt his body react to her need. He was filled with rage, white and hot, at her situation. Those goddamn monsters were trying to take advantage of her in this vulnerable state. She should be home in her nest, being taken care of by her Alpha, covered in soothing oils and cool compresses, her needy little cunt stuffed full of his knot, staving off these symptoms and enduring them for her. Instead, she’d been hunted, chased, made to fight for her dignity out here in the middle of the docks. Something else inside Price’s chest curled around his anger. 

Possession. 

He tried to shake it off, knowing it came from being unmarked, but it had been so many years as a lone Alpha that he knew how to control it. Or, at least he thought he did. 

Now, though, he found himself pulling at the neck of her coat as he held her in his arms, invading her privacy to check for a bite. He felt the shame wash over him as he covered her skin back up. He had no business searching for a mating bite. She was not his Omega, and he was not her Alpha. 

After a few minutes out in the chilled wind, he made it to his apartment. Thankfully, it was late enough that his neighbors weren’t outside to witness what looked like a literal kidnapping, and he shuffled her inside without much trouble. Price lay her down on his long, leather sofa, careful to rest her head on the soft arm. He went to the kitchen to retrieve a cold rag and pressed it to her forehead, hoping to hold back the fever for as long as he could.

“C’mon, pretty girl. Wake up,” he whispered, trying to gently shed her coat and sweater, peeling her layers off to bring her temperature down to a more manageable level. 

She moaned, her eyes wrenching shut even tighter, her face twisted in pain,

“My head…” She sighed, desperate for some relief. 

“I know, love. C’mon,” John propped her up a bit, moving the rag so that the coldest parts would be against her skin, “What’s your name? I can find an address. Do you have your purse?”

“They… took it? I don’t… I dunno…” She muttered, obviously having a hard time stringing her thoughts together, “I don’t feel so good.”

This was not ideal. Price knew what came next. A high fever, exhaustion, fatigue, nausea, increased heart rate, and then… 

“Alpha?” Her eyes were open, glassy and dark, the pupils fully blown, looking up at him with an outpouring of unfathomable need. Her scent rolled off of her in mind-altering waves, shoving Price’s carefully-built walls out of the way and sending shocks of desire straight to his heart and his fat, growing cock. 

“No, baby. I’m not your Alpha. Who is he? Can you give me a name?” John asked, checking her coat pockets in a rushed panic. He was running out of time. 

“Alpha, please… I need… Help me, please,” her shaking hands reached under his jacket and shirt, her knuckles rubbing against his furry belly, her strong fingers digging around for his belt buckle, getting right to the point. 

Price felt the room flex around him, and he tried to breathe in air that wasn’t saturated by her vanilla spice, searching in the deepest recesses of his mind for some semblance of his self control. 

“Easy, love. I can’t m–mmngh!” Her mouth slotted over his as he tried to protest, stopping his heart and his words at the same time. 

She was heaven. Her smell was making his skin tingle all over his body, down his arms and up his legs, rushing to his central, sacral core. And her taste was even better. His little cinnamon roll, so sweet and warm, burning for him like a flame, hot and ready to scar him for life. 

“Mngh… Love, mmm… Wait…” Price held her back, using more force than he thought he should need, surprised by her sudden power. 

“John…” He met her eyes and found a particular clarity within them. She was coming out of her haze. But, it wouldn’t last. This was his final chance to keep her from doing something she would regret. 

“Darlin’, I can’t. I’m not your Alpha.”

“You smell like you are,” she mewled, rubbing her wounded cheek across his engorged neck gland, spreading his scent all over herself. 

“I can’t,” he moved away from her, trying to hold her in his arms for comfort rather than to bask in her expressive heat, “My work… I can’t leave you here, pretty girl.”

She sobbed out, trying to hold back from writhing against his body, doing everything she could not to make it harder for him to turn her down. Her eyes were rimmed red and pink from exhaustion, and she was staring down at her own hands, vibrating with tremors, slurring her words,

“Just lock me in the bath. I’ll run cold water. I’ll be fine…”

Something ancient and feral snarled in Price’s mind. 

No.

“No,” he said, involuntarily, the voice in his head escaping from his throat. 

“Please… I can’t stop myself… I want your knot, Alpha. Lock me up before I do something to you… Something you don’t want…” She could barely put two words together. Every thought was a struggle. He was losing her again. 

He grabbed her and held her to his chest, clutching her like water in his palm, using all his strength to keep her with him,

“I want you, love. I want… Fuck, I need you.”

All of a sudden, the energy around their bodies stilled. That cracking, sparking electricity that bound them together was roiling just beyond John’s consciousness, ready to surge. But, he stayed perfectly still, waiting to see what she did next. She locked eyes with him and leaned in close, as if she would kiss him. But, she didn’t. She dipped her head down until she found his Alphic gland, swollen and bruised purple from him holding back his lust, nuzzling at it with the tip of her nose, rooting against him, testing his patience, checking to see if his temperament was true. Then, when he let her sniff him in his most potent spot, when she knew his soul was as pure as his scent, that he was true, she sucked his flesh between her lips, drawing his musk onto her tongue.

She’d accepted him. He reeled from it, unable to hold back a groan, his cock jerking against his zipper, thrashing to escape, flooding with hot blood and threatening to fill his knot before he’d even had a chance to taste her. 

John pulled her mouth off of him and stared at her eyes again, in awe of her beauty, his mind swirling and yet perfectly sharp, begging her darkly,

“Give me your neck, Omega.”

The ritual had begun, and as she swept her hair away from her shoulder, pulling it around her back, she bent for him, arching her head down in a submissive bow, revealing her Omegan mating line. It looked like a keloid scar, the raised skin swollen and painful, like a pounding vein that ran from below her earlobe down to the top of her shoulder, full of her hormones and thick with her magic. One bite, and he would be in her thrall, pliant to her every whim, beholden to her needs until her heat had run its course. 

Price had never given his bite to anyone. It had been easy to abstain. In fact, in his youth, he had a hard time understanding his mates’ commitments to their Omegas, scoffing at their lack of duty to their stations, doubting their commitment, and - moreover - doubting their loyalty. He remained a captain through and through, and he’d never made room for anyone or anything else. But, here he was, his teeth aching in his jaw, bigger and sharper than they should’ve been, his every sense heightened and taking her in like a drug, compelling him to punch through her delicate flesh and suck her nectar deep into his belly. 

The feeling of her skin against his lips was enough to send a chill through his body. He was cooling from the inside out, and his body needed her heat. She was forcing a rut to take hold in him, and he could feel himself changing for her. Then, he bit down as hard as he could, breaking the thin seal of her mating line with ease, feeling the searing mixture of her oil and her blood filling his mouth and throat like a ripe plum, wet and sweet, and promising pleasure if he chose to swallow her. 

He drank from her for as long as he dared, taking her in long, slurping gulps, letting her essence coat his throat, feeling the hot fluid burn inside of his chest and down into his stomach where it pooled and lingered, warming him up from the inside out. 

“Alpha…” She moaned, raising her hand to cup his cheek as he sucked her life into himself, rubbing her thumb so softly over his shut eyelashes that he barely felt it. 

John pulled away from her, his eyes fluttering open, her bright orange blood iridescent with her mating oil, making the red cells burn bright like a fresh-cracked yolk, gleaming, trapped between his teeth like gold. He watched it drip down her chest, staining her clothes, and he began to tear them off of her. She let him, limp and mute as he peeled her open, making her naked and pulling her into his arms. 

He carried her into his bedroom, kicking open the door and busting the bolt through the strike, splintering the wood and not giving a shit about the damage. John lay her in the middle of the mattress and set to surrounding her with whatever softness he could find; his shirts, his blankets, even his scarves. Anything warm and comfortable was added to the nest, giving her as much support as he could before standing back to admire his work. 

She eyed him from her recumbent throne, commanding him with her gaze. John stripped off his shirt for her, raking it up his back and over his shoulders, feeling as if he was moving his body for her and only for her. All of his motions, even his ragged breaths, were only escaping from his lungs because she wanted them to. His buckle clattered apart, and he popped open the button of his jeans, lowering the zipper in a sharp, metallic rip. 

Once free, his heavy prick flagged, leaping forward and pulsating for her, proudly showing her his gleaming head. He was drooling an unrelenting stream of iridescent precome, his balls tight and full of Alphic oil, ready to coat her warm insides with his shining sex. 

John climbed onto the bed, his face focused on her wet mound, admiring the plumpness of her, imagining her - in every delicious way - like a tender peach. He crawled to her, his mouth still stained neon orange from her gland, and he smeared her wet quim all over his lips and tongue. He wasn’t licking her so much as he was wearing her like warpaint, moving his nose and cheeks through her to ensure he was soaked in her heady slick, his body making wild, unbridled choices purely on instinct.  

“Yes, baby, please…” Her voice went straight through him like a bullet, tightening his cockhead to an uncomfortable degree, and it jerked against the mattress in protest. Her hands were in his hair, scratching through his scalp, encouraging him to sink his tongue deep inside of her hole. 

John obeyed, helpless to her desire, his mind wiping clean and being rewritten by her will. He was swimming in her scent, drenched in her slick, and gasping against her pussy, his eyes fixated on her form as it writhed above him. When she met his eyes, she bit the inside of her lip, crying out for him, rewarding him for his prostrated fealty. Then, she began to rock her hips against his jaw, fucking herself on his face, and he let her use him to her heart’s content, staying strong and sure, allowing his body to be used, objectified and glorified by it. 

When she began to come, it was the most beautiful thing he’d ever seen. He followed his tongue inside of her with two of his thick fingers, pressing against her walls, pushing her over the edge. She bolted upright, wrapping her thighs around his face, smothering him with her body, trapping him breathless between her legs. Her whole being trembled for him. He could feel the shimmer of her very soul, rattling and writhing with her siren-like keening. And just when he started to see spots in his vision, needing air just a little less than he needed to please her, she lay open for him, blooming outward like a flower, releasing him from a limbo he longed to return to, oozing with a stream of rainbow-tinted come, the Omegan oil within her womb escaping to advertise its promises to her mate. 

Without knowing why, John found himself lapping it up from her pulsing hole like a hound, swallowing mouthful after mouthful and grunting with each pass of his broad tongue. 

“John, I need... Please, put your knot inside me. I’ll be good…” She begged, tears shining at the corners of her eyes from her come-drunk bliss, her hands plucking at her nipples and trying to soothe herself down from her high. 

“My pretty girl wants this knot, yeah?” John grinned devilishly, dipping his finger into her over and over and licking it clean like she was a jar of endless honey, “Wants me to breed this gorgeous cunt…”

At that comment, she spread her legs even wider for him, opening up for him like a blossom for the sun, ready to take whatever he had to give her. It was mesmerizing for John to see her like this. Everything about her was filled with intoxication and need. He was just a vessel for her pleasure, pouring himself into her to make her full again. Dizzy and drunk with adoration, he notched his girth at her entrance, struggling to fit even his cockhead within her. 

“Fuck… so bloody warm…”

Her body was burning him with every millimeter he sank into her, the heat of her tight sex in such high contrast with his cool rut. It felt like he was swimming in a roiling pot of sugary caramel, clinging and cloying and sticking to every part of him, and yet it was not enough. He needed more. His hips thrust forward, savage yet steady, reaching deep inside of her like an anchor, rushing to settle himself within her darkness. 

The way his Omega cried out this time was different, and it snapped him to her attention, his mind immediately sensing a new need. 

“Love, tell me what you need.” He purred, his mouth kissing her lips and her neck, lapping at the now-healing wound his own fangs had made, talking to her between long licks of his tongue, “Tell me, and it’s yours.”

“You’re so big. I’ve never…” She sounded ashamed. 

Price slowed to a creeping pace, focused fully on her face, 

“Never had a knot before?”

She shook her head, her eyes full of worry. John wrapped her up in his arms, dragging himself out of her slowly before filling her up again as carefully as he could.

“Tha’s alright, baby. You’re mine, and I’ll keep you safe. I promise.”

“Feels like I’m burning alive,” she sighed, her brow furrowing with distress, “John, I need… I don’t know how…”

“Look at me, alright?” He helped her focus her eyes on his, “Don’t… Just stay with me, right here. You’re gonna come for me, and then… I’ll give you what you need.”

“Please,” she whimpered, her voice so small. 

Price set himself on a path with a purpose. He used his hand to rub small, rhythmic circles beside the rigid body of her clit, coaxing her pussy to drop even more slick around him, using every ounce of willpower he had left not to let his knot slip inside of her prematurely. His thrusts were jerky and restrained, but he felt her begin to rock back and forth with his hand’s movements, bringing her closer and closer to her glowing joy. 

“Good girl,” he praised her, watching her as she began to fall apart around him, “Tha’s my good little Omega. Come for your Alpha just like that. Just… mmf-fuck! Like that! Holy fuck.”

The feeling of her slick pussy clenching and twisting around his cock’s tugid body was enough to make him see stars. He felt almost sick with pleasure, his whole core lighting up like a roaring fire, spitting and aching to bury himself within her. 

At the end of her crescendo, he felt himself let go of the chain, and he rutted his knot inside of her, humping himself forward ruthlessly, his body contorting itself to fit her needs. His knot sealed him within her, and although he was not yet orgasming, he was filling her with his come, the creamy flow of it spilling out of his tip, filling her hole and coating his prick from inside of its hungry little sheath.

“Your come… I can feel it inside of me. Oh, my God,” she sighed with some sort of relief, her eyes rolling inside of her head, her arms losing their strength, and her back arching towards him, lifting up as if she would float right into Heaven. 

And just like that, her fever began to abate. With his knot stuffed inside of her, locking his seed within her hole, his Alphic oils could soothe her heat, bringing her back to the realm of consciousness and delivering her from her wild state. 

“John,” she lay back, her hand pressed to his cheek. 

He didn’t answer her. Instead, he bent forward on his elbows and kissed her mouth, chastely at first, and then languidly, exploring her taste. When he did finally pull away, she was awake and alert, sated and happy. He smiled down at her, 

“Hey, pretty girl,” he whispered, wiping her hair back from her face. 

“Hey,” she smiled back at him, wrapping her ankles around his back for comfort, not knowing that it was just enough to set his cock on edge again, his Alphic instinct rejoicing at the feeling of being trapped by his mate. 

“You alright?” John asked, a tinge of worry at the edge of his voice.

“I am now, thanks to you,” she sighed, tucking herself in beneath him, rubbing her hands along his ribs and the soft fur of his back and arms, feeling every bit of him as if she was seeing him with her touch, “You saved me, Alpha.”

“Aye,” he nudged her jaw with his nose, asking her wordlessly to give him the vulnerable softness of her neck. She obliged, and he spoke to her between sucking kisses, “All mine. My Omega. Innit that right, baby?”

She was practically lambent beneath the scrutiny of his possession, rolling in it like a wave in the sand, captured by it and surrendering to the riptide of his unbreakable grip. She nodded, humming her ascent, her expression turning a little rueful right at the end of his kisses. The sorrowful timbre of her voice broke his heart, 

“I’m grateful. But, I know this isn’t what you wanted, and I’m so sor–”

“No,” he kissed her words away, feeling his length throb inside of her, urging him to kiss her again, “No, love.”

“I won’t bite you,” she promised, her gaze still full of apology, “You won’t be stuck with me.”

“Bite me, Omega,” he bent his head and buried his face in her shoulder, giving her his gland in total surrender, “Go on. I’m yours.”

“John…” She hesitated, but he could feel her body flood her hole, excited beyond measure at the thought of binding him to her as her mated Alpha. 

“Go on,” he commanded in his smoky growl, holding her tighter and bracing for the ecstasy of her teeth.

He felt her lips first, and his balls tightened, ready to fling him into a messy orgasm as soon as he felt his gland shatter in her mouth. Her Omegan teeth wouldn’t break the skin, but he knew she was strong enough to crack the shell around his swollen node. The anticipation of her bite was wrecking his mind, and he was gasping for breath by the time he felt her jaw set itself against him. 

“Baby, please…” He whined in her ear, his hips thrusting in short, jerking thrusts, unable to move much with his knot still trapped up inside of her, holding his gushing come in her hole, pushing it into her womb from the sheer volume of it. 

Her teeth connected, and he could hear his unbroken shell give way beneath her strength, the hormones inside of it rushing through his system like wildfire, burning through his veins and making him scream for her. At the same time, John felt his core throw him into a raw orgasm, his whole body trembling above her, wringing himself from the inside out. 

“Alpha,” she sighed, licking his neck to comfort him, “My Alpha…”

“Yours, baby. All yours.”

— — — — — 

The new trainees filed out of the gym, sweaty, bloody, and eager to be out of the captain’s sight. Price had run them ragged, forcing them to spar with practice weapons, pitting them against each other in a strained, exhausting competition. Ghost and Soap sat with Gaz as they eyed their commander, their eyes glued to the fresh bite mark on his neck, shocked into a silent stupor. 

“I cannae believe it. Mated? To which lassie?” Soap asked, dumbfounded.

“I didn’t think he’d ever take a mate,” Gaz marvelled.

“I thought he was savin’ himself for marriage,” Ghost quipped, earning himself a scuff from Soap.

Price made his way across the mat, pulling his sweaty shirt off his back to trade it for a clean one. The red welts and nail-marks across his shoulders and down his belly made Gaz let out a low whistle. But, his commander’s glare stopped him mid-note. 

“Wha’s that, Garrick?”

“Nothin’, sir. Just… admirin’ your battle scars,” Gaz smiled, wishing his two teammates would stop snickering so loudly. 

“Looks like a hell’uva fight, Cap,” Ghost added, looking everywhere but into Price’s icy eyes. 

“Wha’s her name?” Soap asked outright, skipping over the double entendres and going right for the point. 

Their captain sighed, zipped up his gym bag, and stood in front of his three officers, glaring down at them with a look that was on the border of dead-seriousness,

“If I told you that, lads, I’d have to kill you.”

[into-crazy]

hot tub surprise

Negan Smith x Female Reader one shot

Non-apocalyptic AU // The Walking Dead AU

Summary: You sneak over to your older next door neighbor's house and use his hot tub. Hoping that he'll come out and catch you.

Warnings- mature language, alcohol consumption, age gap(reader's over 18, Negan's in his 40s), breaking and entering, NSFW, SMUT, slight masochism, masturbation, degradation, fingering, oral sex, unprotected sex, ages 18+

Author's Note: There were a few times where I had to stop and take a deep breath to calm down because it got pretty hot lol. But I had a lot of fun writing this one, I hope you guys like it♡

💕divider by @saradika-graphics

There was something you always liked about your next door neighbor, Negan Smith.

Maybe it was because you were into older men. It could be his cocky, devil-may-care personality. Or perhaps it was that deep husk in his voice that always made your pussy throb. But ever since he's moved here you've had your eyes on him.

You are under the impression that perhaps Negan was attracted you too. As he showers you with compliments every time you see him. There have also been a few times where you've caught him staring at you a little too long. And he's always searching for a reason to be able to "accidentally" touch you in some way.

However, he's never actually told you or made some sort of move. Though neither have you.

The reason being that you are still currently living with your parents. One of them is always around which makes it difficult for you to try and flirt with him. You don't want your parents to know that you're attracted to your older neighbor. What would they think if they found out? Certainly they would disapprove. What makes the matter even worse is that Negan is really good friends with your father. So.. double yikes.

Still, you're always looking for the perfect opportunity to make a move on him.

Luckily for you, your parents are going out of town this weekend to celebrate their anniversary. Your father took another day off from work so that they can come back on Monday. That way they have more time to spend alone together. So there had never been a better opportunity for you than now.

Negan's got a hot tub in his backyard. He had it installed last year. On cool, windy nights he's often in there. In nothing but his black swim trunks, with a glass of whiskey in his hand. You know this all too well because you have a perfect view of it from your bedroom window. It would be embarrassing to admit how many times you've looked out of your window to see if he was out there. Not that you're a total stalker. Only staring at him for no more than a few seconds before carrying on with your day. But man, seeing his wet body sure does make everything better. That broad, hairy chest and those toned, tattooed arms glistening from the water. You've certainly fantasized about being with him in that spa plenty of times. Straddling his lap and making out with him until one of you takes it further.

Negan had said that your parents or even the three of you could go over to use it anytime you wanted. Your parents had went together a couple times. You didn't want to feel like a third wheel, so you didn't go when they invited you. There wasn't any way you would go by yourself, as it doesn't seem appropriate. However, now that your parents are going out of town for a while.. perhaps you could make something work with that.

//

Thursday evening.

Your father and Negan are sitting on the patio, having a couple of beers. When Negan asks about weekend plans, your father tells him about their anniversary getaway. How this is their 25th year together and they wanted to do something special. They are going to be staying at a luxury, spa hotel next to the lake. Spending the entirety of their time there relaxing by the water, drinking expensive wine, and getting full body massages.

"That sounds very nice, the two of you will have a great time." Negan offers his thoughts on the matter. "Twenty five years? That's fucking remarkable."

"Yeah, thanks. We're really looking forward to it." Your father replies before downing the rest of his bottle. "Hey, y/n!" He calls for you from outside.

You poke your head out, briefly locking eyes with Negan and giving him a nod before looking at your father. "Yeah?"

"Could you grab me another beer, sweetheart?"

Negan leans forward, holding his bottle up. "Make that two, would you?"

You go to retrieve them and your father asks Negan if he has anything going on this weekend.

Negan takes the last sip of his beer, taking a second to ponder on it. "Do I have something to do? Uh no, not much." You come back outside with two beers in your hands. Walking over to them you hand your father his beer first as he was closer. "Think I'm gonna spend the weekend drinking and relaxing, myself." You go to give the other bottle to Negan. His hand reaches out to grab it as he keeps talking, "maybe take a dip in the hot tub." His fingers brush over yours as he takes the beverage. You look at him and he gives you a half smirk, "thank you darlin'."

"You're welcome." You smile back at him before turning around to go back inside. God, the tension you've just felt. Also, that pet name definitely made you blush.

Good thing your father was focused on popping opening his bottle and didn't notice the exchange. Because you were certainly burning up after that. Why does Negan keep doing that to you? Surely he must know the effect he has on you. And that mention about his hot tub was certainly a jab at you. Yeah.. he knows. He fucking knows!

//

Friday arrives.

You had work/studies the whole morning. But your parents spent the time getting everything ready for their trip. Making sure that they had their bags packed, and checking to see that things at home will be in order while they're gone. Once the afternoon rolls around, you are in the driveway waving your parents goodbye.

"Have a great time- and drive safe!" You call out just before they drive away.

Finally, you will be home alone for the next few days. Which means you'll have Negan all to yourself.

You've come up with a bold plan. Something risky. You are going to make the first move. Show him how very interested you are in him.

Negan had left his house shortly after the sun had went down. Which wasn't an issue for you, since that would make it much easier for you to carry out your plan.

You picked out the hottest, most revealing bikini that you own and booked it over to Negan's house. Making sure that none of the other neighbors see you before letting yourself in through the backyard gate. It wasn't new to you as you've already been here quite a few times for casual hangouts and such with your parents. But it's now the first time you been over here by yourself. It brings on a surge of adrenaline.

Taking the time you have to set the mood, you start up the spa. Turning on his radio and setting it on low to your local station that plays all the best love songs. After everything seems to be set, you take off your clothes and climb into the large tub. Settling into the water with a sigh. The water is hot and the jets feel amazing on your back. Now you know why Negan loves this thing so much, it's incredible!

Some time goes by before you ultimately hear the sound of a car pulling up front. You get up out of the water and sit on the edge of the tub. On the farthest one, that way you are facing the back door in which you anticipate Negan will come out from. There are lights being turned on inside, confirming that he's home. Your heart pounds faster in your chest when you realize they're getting closer. Then the light above you comes on, the door swings open, and out steps Negan.

The instant his eyes land on you he is visibly shocked. "What the hell- y/n? What are you doing here?"

His eyes travel down your entire body then snap back up to your face. You're wearing the tiniest fucking bikini he's ever seen, it's barely covering anything!

You bite your lip, looking him up and down. He's got on a fitted tshirt with some dark jeans, and his leather jacket folded over his arm. You grin at him before reply, "hi Negan. I hope you don't mind that I came over for a dip, since you said I could anytime." Using one hand to brace yourself on the tub, you lean back and spread your legs. Running the other hand teasing up your thigh. "I'd really like it if you'd join me."

He speaks to you with a mixture of anger and urgency, "damn it y/n, this seriously isn't the-" Something cuts him off.

"Hey, there you are." A woman suddenly steps out of the house looking for Negan. You quickly close your legs, startled by this new woman's presence. Her gaze immediately widens at you before turning towards him, "I'm sorry, who's this?"

This is one of the most embarrassing things that could have ever happened to you. Clearly she saw you flirting lewdly with Negan. You search around desperately for something to cover up, but there's nothing nearby. The lower half of your body is frozen in place and refuses to move. So you sit there awkwardly. Managing to get out, "shit, I'm so sorry. I-I didn't realize you had company."

The woman still stares at Negan, expecting an answer. He sighs, "this is my neighbor. She lives right next door. Look I swear, I didn't know she would come over like this. But I know her parents and we'll find a way to deal with this."

He looks at you with disappointment in his eyes, which crushes you even more. You wish you could just go back to prevent this from happening.

The woman still appears uneasy about the whole situation, and rightfully so. You've just completely interrupted their evening. She motions towards the door, "yeah I think I'm going to go. You obviously have something here you need to take care of and I really don't want to stay for that."

Negan swears under his breath, shaking his head before replying. "Yeah, I understand."

He opens the door so she can go inside and grab her things. As she goes in, he directs his attention towards you. "Stay right there. Don't you go anywhere, young lady."

You give him an apologetic nod and he steps in after the woman. Sinking back into the water as it gives you some form of coverage. This sucks. It seriously does. Now you're worried that he's going to tell your parents about this, fuck! You use the time to come up with something, to beg him not to tell on you.

A minute or so goes by before the opening of the door catches your attention. Negan steps outside. He takes a few steps towards you, then plants his feet and crosses his arms. He looks beyond pissed. "Well then, would you mind telling me what the fuck you think you're doing?"

You tense up, unable to make or hold eye contact with him. Instead choosing to stare down at the water in front of you. "I-I'm really sorry, Negan. I shouldn't have come over like this."

"No you shouldn't have, this is highly inappropriate." He berates you more. "And you know that. What the hell were you thinking?"

Tears start to form in your eyes. You feel like a dog that's being scorned for peeing on the carpet. "I know it is, and I'm so sorry.. But I promise to never do it again. I'll just go home okay. P-Please don't tell my parents about this."

Negan clicks his tongue sharply at that. "Shit I don't know. There's a lot you did that I can't just let go. Breaking into my backyard, using my stuff without asking, wearing practically nothing and then opening your legs in front of me like a fucking slut."

You miss the way his tone changes towards the end of that last sentence. "I sincerely apologize, and especially for ruining your date. I didn't mean to do that. I won't do it ever again."

He exhales heavily. "Look at me."

You muster up enough courage to bring your gaze up towards him. He looks hot when he's mad. And you hate to admit it, but his scolding gives your core a pleasant sensation. It's a strange feeling, you're unsure how to describe it. Your thighs squeeze together as a result of that. Negan seems to have caught on to that as well.

"I guess I don't have to tell your folks about any of this," he starts. "And I won't tell them, if you get back up that ledge and spread those legs again."

"I'm- you want me to do what?" You reply shakily. Not sure whether you heard him correctly or not. But that heavy look in his eyes tell you that he was dead serious.

"I said get back on that Goddamn ledge and spread those pretty fucking legs for me. You want me to keep my mouth shut, don't you?"

A shiver rattles your spine at his words. You nod, "mhm."

He gives a hum. "What are you waiting for, then? Get your ass up there."

You emerge from the water and sit right back where you were before. Doing as you're told and opening your legs. Shame and arousal mix together pleasantly throughout your body when you notice his gaze trailing over every part of your body.

Negan gives a wolf whistle, "Hot damn that is a wonderful sight to see." He is at the other side of the tub now, leaning against it to get a better view. "Now do me a favor and undo those straps, sweetheart. I wanna see it all."

Using your hand you release every strap of your bikini. Starting first with the top, then the bottoms. Letting the articles fall onto the floor behind you. You are now completely naked, your plush breasts and warm cunt on full display before Negan.

He licks his lips, "shit baby, you look absolutely fucking gorgeous." There is a tent at the front of his pants, indicating that he's getting hard from the sight of you. He removes his own clothing, stripping down to his boxers. Then he climbs into the tub, sitting at the opposite end of you. "Go on and touch yourself."

Your fingers move to your clit, drawing circles at a teasing- yet pleasurable pace. Inserting them into your aching hole then bringing them back to smear your wetness around your bud. Releasing moans and whimpers that are music to Negan's ears.

He runs his own hand over his bulge. His breath is getting heavier, "is this how you touch yourself when you're thinking about me?"

"Yes," you nod, admitting that you do.

"Yeah, I bet you think about me every time huh? Thinking about my fingers instead of your own inside you. Sitting that pretty ass on my face while I eat that pussy. Or my cock slamming in and out of you as I fuck you dumb. Is that right baby?"

Your hips stutter as you listen to every filthy word that left his mouth. "God, yes.. I think about you all the time Negan. I want you s-so bad."

A chuckle leaves his lips. "I know you do." He leaves the wall and comes closer to you. His hazel eyes filled with lust. "And you wanna know something? I want you too." Standing directly before you, he places his large palms on your thighs. Gliding them up to your stomach. "I've wanted you for so long, you have no fucking idea how crazy it drove me." He brings his face closer to where his lips are almost touching yours. "And now that I've got you all to myself I'm gonna take my time and enjoy every second of it."

He leans in, capturing your mouth in a passionate kiss. Slipping his tongue into your welcoming mouth, you can taste the whiskey that he'd been drinking. The roughness of his beard scratches pleasantly against your soft skin while he devours you. One of his hands caresses your breasts as he trails wet kisses and marks down your neck. Pulling back slightly to look at your breast when he rubs and pinches at your peaked nipple. "You've got some nice tits." He states, taking it into his mouth to suck on the bud.

Your fingers run through his hair while he sucks marks on to your chest. Meanwhile your core is aching for some attention, your hips press against him. "Negan, please."

He chuckles at your neediness. "Look at you squirming for me. Don't worry, I'm gonna give you what you need." Sliding further down your body, he brings his face to your pelvis. Wrapping his arms around your thighs, wasting no more time as he buries his face in your eager cunt. He licks a long strip up your slit towards your clit, letting out a deep groan. "Fuck, your pussy tastes amazing." He laps at you a few more times before his tongue travels upward to lick and suck on your clit. Inserting two of his thick fingers into your dripping entrance, he begins pumping them in and out of you. Skillfully curling them against that spot that immediately gets you closer and closer to your orgasm.

"Oh f-fuck, right there- please." You moan, right on the verge of sweet release. Trying hard not to be too loud as to not alert any of the neighbors.

He can feel by the tightening of your walls that you are about to cum. "Go ahead baby, cum all over my face."

His approval was everything you needed. Your orgasm gushes out of you while you let go with a strained cry. Negan laps it up with a satisfied hum. There's a shift in his eyes when he looks up at you, they're darker. Hungrier. Once you come back down from the high you bring your focus to his cock, straining to get out of his drenched boxers. The article sticking to his skin, giving a gorgeous outline of his manhood. You reach down, palming it. The action making him hiss.

"Want something, darlin'?"

You reach under the waistband to fully grasp his hardened member. Stroking it while whispering, "I want this.. want you."

"Good, because I need to feel that pussy around my dick now." He snatches you off from the edge, turning you around and bending you over it. Tugging down the rest of his boxers, he pulls out his cock. He lines himself up with your entrance and slides right in, the intrusion making both of you groan. The water sloshes around more violently as he pounds into you. "Shit you're so fucking tight. Keep sucking me right in" He pants while thrusting into you. You moan in ecstasy, not able to do much but lay there and take his cock. He leans over you, grabbing a fistful of your hair and tugging your head to the side so he can talk in your ear. "Such a dirty fucking girl you are. I wonder what your old man would think if he found out, hm? That you snuck over here and let me fuck you like the horny little slut that you are."

You let out a loud cry in response, your spongy walls clamping tighter down on him. "I.. I don't know." Was all you manage to mutter out.

A deep chuckle leaves his lips, brushing past your sensitive skin. "Oh you don't? Maybe I should ask him then."

"No!" You nearly scream out loud. "Don't tell him, please!"

His brutal thrusting doesn't falter, slamming into you balls deep every thrust. "I won't if you promise to be a good girl and cum on my cock."

"God yes- yes! I promise to cum all over your cock."

His hand snakes in front of you to rub firmly on your clit. The extra stimulation making your body tremble uncontrollably under him. You are so close to cumming and so is he, but he needs you to let go first. He urges you on, "that's it baby, cum for me."

"Ohh fuck, fuck, fuck!" Your eyes roll back and you finally cum. Cunt squeezing down hard on his cock and milking him of his own orgasm. He pulls out of you just in time to shoot his load all over your back. Releasing a deep groan as he paints your skin with his warm, milky seed.

"Holy shit," Negan laughs breathlessly. The two of you stay there for a few seconds to catch your breaths. He is the first to move, "alright stay right here. I'm gonna get something to clean you up." He exits the spa, going to collect a towel from the towel rack. Stepping back in he uses the article to wipe your pussy and the cum from your back. Making sure you are nice and clear before tossing the soiled cloth on to the floor. He taps you lightly, "all done."

"Thank you," you return coming off the edge and settling down next to him in the relaxing water. Both naked and satisfied.

He wraps his arm around your shoulders, giving you a sweet peck on your lips. "That was fucking incredible."

"Mm, sure was." You sigh contentedly, resting your head on his chest.

His thumb brushes affectionately against your arm. "It looks like I've got you all to myself for the next couple of days."

"What happens after that?"

He gives a half smirk. "We'll figure that out later. But you are mine and I'm not giving you up, that's for damn sure."

You grin widely at his answer.

[grogwrites]

Stranger - O.P. 81

Part One

part one • part two • part three

Summary: When someone returns to Oscar’s life after years apart, he has a hard time finding common ground with her to reconcile the feud between them. That is, until she signs on as a driver for the upcoming F1 season. Then he can’t seem to get her out of his mind.

Pairing: Oscar Piastri x Female OC

CW: Dual POV series, but part one is all in Oscar’s POV. Part one has some swearing, alcohol consumption, death of a parent which leads to OC becoming an orphan, a lot of angst. This series will contain a lot of angst, and some references to PTSD and death of a loved one—each topics very close to me personally. PTSD is a difficult thing to write and to read, so please take my warnings seriously before continuing on xx

A/N: this is part one in a three part mini series! As usual, I do not use YN on my page, so OC is a named character 😊

Word Count: 4.6k

* DISCLAIMER: I do not know any of the people in this fanfiction personally, these are all just the works of my imagination.

TWELVE YEARS AGO

The first time Oscar saw her was when he was eleven. The race tracks near his house were having a karting event for young drivers, so naturally, his parents signed him up. It was a windy December day, and Oscar’s frustration was at about a ten. He fidgeted with his race suit, as the new material scratched against his skin, overstimulating him with every slight movement that was made. She had been watching him, unbeknownst to Oscar, and made her way over.

“What are you doing?” The young girl demanded from him as he tugged at the collar of the suit. He furrowed his eyebrows at her. She was driving with the league below him, so she was younger by at least a few years. In eleven years old Oscar’s mind, he didn’t know what could’ve possibly possessed a second grader to antagonize a sixth grader. But he was annoyed at the scratchy lilt her that voice contained. He was at the age right now where girls were gross—she was gross.

“What’s it to you?” He barked back. “Don’t you have a race to worry about?” It shocked Oscar when she swept her hand forward, yanking his hand away from the zipper that was currently rubbing against his neck. What surprised him even more was the amount of strength in her tiny hand as her grip tightened around his wrist.

“Stop messing with it,” she hissed. “You’re going to make it worse, you know.” He ripped his arm out of her grasp, then sneered down at her. She had light blonde hair that could’ve been mistaken for white with how bright it was. It was tied back in a small ponytail that was draped over her shoulder—her eyes a vibrant blue, which seemed to accompany the bright pink racing suit she wore.

“You’re, like, what? Five?” Oscar mocked. “What do you know about karting?” The girl took a step back, as if to assess him—to study him. Even if she was younger, she had an overwhelming sense of authority. He shifted uncomfortably as her gaze burned holes through him. Her bossiness and straightforward nature intimidated him slightly. He had never been a confrontational person—he actually tried to avoid it at all costs, usually. If his friends knew some seven or eight year old was getting at him like this, he wouldn’t hear the end of it.

“I know I’m smart enough to wash a suit before wearing it for the first time,” she quipped. “Wearing a brand new suit without breaking in the material is stupid, moron.” Before Oscar could argue with the kid, she turned around and stomped back to her league. His eyes widened at the fact that she just blatantly insulted him. Moron? What normal person even used that term?

As the hours passed, Oscar found himself curious at who the fiery young girl was. After he finished his race, he found himself looking for her at the tracks. When he realized her league was up, he pushed his way towards the front of the crowd to watch her. His eyes eagerly scanned for her prominent pink suit, when he realized she was in the lead. She was fast, too. For being so young, the way she controlled the car was incredible—it was like she was a machine. The crowd seemed to think so as well, as each time she passed by, they were erupting in applause. One man in particular, was cheering like crazy. Oscar looked up, tapping on his arm. The man looked down to him, and smiled. He wore square-framed glasses that laid low on his nose. His hair was dirty blonde, and he wore a pink sweatshirt that correlated with her race suit.

“You won in the league earlier this morning!” The man happily observed. “Congratulations, Mr Piastri.” Oscar frowned.

“Who are you?” He asked.

“I’m Simon Nguyen,” the gentleman introduced. “I went to school with your mother, Nicole.” Oscar nodded slowly, ignoring what he said, then pointed to the track.

“Who is the girl in pink?” He questioned. The man, Simon, laughed at Oscar’s curiosity. He turned to the track again, where the girl sped past once more. He knelt down to his level, pointing to her.

“That is my daughter, Claire,” he explained. His voice was comforting. He spoke about her with so much pride. “She said she met you earlier. She has trouble with manners sometimes, but we’re working on it.”

Oscar turned with Simon to watch the race come to an end, with Claire leading the way. He wondered how he had never met her before at these events, or why his mom never mentioned Simon. But regardless of the questions that seemed to spiral in his head, all he knew was he wanted to be better than her. He hoped that he would get to race one day against her, and show that he knew what he was doing—especially since she seemed to think otherwise.

.

As Oscar hung the last ornament in the box on their tree, he heard the doorbell echo through their house. His sisters continued decorating with miscellaneous supplies such as garland or lights, while he climbed off the chair he stood on, hurrying towards the door. His dad was playing some soft Christmas music in the background, sorting through old photos by the fireplace. The smell of turkey lingered in the air. Christmas was Oscar’s favorite time of year, and he was excited to see who all would be joining them tonight. The Piastri’s hosted a great dinner every year on Christmas Eve—a family exclusive tradition.

“I got it, mom!” He called through the house. He quickly unlocked the door, then opened it. While he was expecting his grandparents or his cousins, he was quite taken aback seeing Simon and Claire standing there. Claire’s hair was down, and she wore a red velvety Christmas dress. She held on to a bag full of presents. Simon smiled.

“Hello again, Oscar,” he beamed. “You look nice.”

They weren’t family. They weren’t supposed to be here tonight. Oscar furrowed his eyebrows as he let go of the door handle.

“Mom!” Oscar called over his shoulder. “The Nguyen’s are here?” It was supposed to be a statement, but Oscar couldn’t hide his confusion very well. He didn’t know why they’d be here. Sure, Simon said he knew his mom, but he didn’t think it was well enough for them to come over for their family Christmas Eve. Claire would just ruin it, probably. She already has by being here.

His mom appeared quickly, and seemed to grow excited when she saw them. The rest of his family—his sisters and his dad—hurried in to say their hello’s. Claire even reciprocated, and ran towards his mom. Oscar’s chest grew hot with anger. Who were these people to just barge in on their traditions like this?

“Hi Claire Bear!” His mom exclaimed, engulfing the bratty girl in a hug. She picked her up, and pushed some of the hair out of her face. “You look beautiful, darling!” Claire was giggling as her arms wrapped around his mom’s neck, hugging her back. He had decided he’d seen enough, and hurried over to her.

“Mom who are they?” He blurted. “This is supposed to be family only.” Nicole laughed as she set Claire down again, then tussled his hair. She knelt down to look at him, and he felt guilty for being so rude. But at the same time, he felt like he had every right to be upset. Change didn’t suit him well.

“Simon is a very good friend of mine,” she explained gently. “They don’t have any other family, Oscar. They just moved here from South Korea, and I thought it would be nice that they joined us.” Oscar didn’t even know where South Korea was. He had fallen asleep during geography when they were learning about other countries. He watched as his mom stood up straight again.

“We met Oscar at the tracks a few weeks ago,” Simon commented. “He’s become quite good, Nicole. Not long until he makes his way to Formula 1, huh?”

Oscar’s rage suddenly dwindled at the stranger’s remarks. Now, he felt proud. He thought Oscar was good enough for Formula 1? His frown twisted into a smile as he watched his mom lead Simon into the kitchen to drop off their bags. His gaze lingered over to Claire. She folded her arms across her chest, staring back at him.

“We’re friends now,” she claimed confidently, taking a few steps towards him. “Our parents are friends, so that means we are.”

“That’s not how that works,” he scoffed. “But you’re still young, so you wouldn’t know.”

“You’re not much older,” she reminded him. Her arms fell to her sides, as she grabbed ahold of his wrist again. This time, with a much more gentle touch than she did at the tracks. “I brought something to show you. Your mom said you’d like it.” She turned, then marched the two of them into the living room where their bag full of presents sat. She let go of him, then knelt beside it. Oscar watched her intently as she rummaged through everything, when she pulled out two brand new remote control cars. His eyes widened. He had always wanted one, but his mom made him put it on his Christmas list. She found any excuse to not buy him one, despite his numerous attempts at asking for one.

“No way!” He exclaimed as she passed one to him. It was a shiny monster truck that had black and orange flames along the sides. His read THE DESTROYER, her’s read THE TERRORIZER. His eyebrows raised in amusement. “But girls don’t like these kinds of things.”

“Girls can like them too,” she remarked, as she flipped the switch to turn hers on. “Girls can like anything boys can, and boys can like anything girls can—just like how girls can race alongside boys, and boys can race alongside girls.”

Oscar had never really thought about it that way. He flipped the switch on his car, as her statement echoed in his mind. All of his friends at school were boys, so he didn’t really think about the fact that girls could like anything they liked. As they began racing their cars around the living room, he heard Claire laughing beside him. A grin flitted across his face, as he thought that maybe being friends with her wouldn’t be so bad.

.

FIVE YEARS AGO

It was raining outside. Oscar hated the rain, now. He figured Claire probably hated it just as much as he did, if not more. He was worried when she hadn’t cried all day—like all of her tears were gone, and replaced with a dormant, numb feeling in her heart. She exhaled next to him, as if she had been holding in a breath that she forgot about. He knew he should do something, or say something. But ultimately, he knew regardless of what he did or said, nothing would help. Simon was dead, and Claire was an orphan now.

The casket at the front of the church was closed. Oscar was grateful, because it made him sick to see Simon there—lifeless; he was always anything but. He quickly became a second father to him, much like how his parents became second parents for Claire. His mom told him yesterday that she would be living with them for a while, until her aunt could make it up from South Korea to take her back there. South Korea—away from him. He couldn’t really fathom not seeing her every day anymore. She had become so regular in his life and now she’s just…leaving. Just like how Simon was gone before any of them could blink.

The pastor droned on about how death is a celebration, when he heard Claire scoff beside him. He looked down at her, and saw a few tears prickling in the corners of her eyes. He tentatively reached out, taking her hand in his. He heard her catch a breath in her throat. She didn’t initially hold his in return, until he felt her nerves relax as her fingers curled around his hand. He gave hers a light squeeze, before looking towards the front again. He leaned over slightly.

“I’ll be celebrating when this funeral is over,” he whispered jokingly. This elicited a laugh from Claire—a genuine one—that made him smile. It was the first time he had heard her laugh in weeks since the car crash.

“You and me both,” she whispered in response, giving his hand a squeeze.

After the funeral and the burial, Oscar seemed to lose sight of Claire at the reception. He sat beside his parents and his sisters, as they all recounted memories of Simon and Claire. When his phone buzzed in his pocket, he didn’t even have to look to know who it was. Her nickname flashed across the screen.

Bear: where are you?

Oscar quickly excused himself from the table, then exited the reception hall. He wandered outside of the church, where Claire was sat on the sidewalk. It was still raining, so her hair and clothes were soaked. He wondered how long she had been out here, and worried she was going to get sick. She probably didn’t care about it, though. There wasn’t much she seemed to care about nowadays. He shrugged off his suit jacket, then wrapped it around her. He sat beside her.

“Life is a bitch,” she muttered. He was quiet, just being there to listen for now—in case she had anymore to say. She looked over to him. “I turned in my racing gear yesterday.”

Now he was officially worried. She was quitting racing? That was incredibly unlike her. No matter what was going on in her life, she always turned to the track to escape whatever was dragging her down. Now she was just…throwing it all away. She had plans to go into F3 with him—she was about to be signed, too.

“Why?” He finally spoke, though his singular word was strained. He hated seeing her so…lost. Claire was always so sure of herself—always so confident. And now she was here beside him just…defeated.

“What’s the point anymore?” She countered. “Dad taught me to race, Osc. He’s dead now. There isn’t much in South Korea for me to pursue for racing, so why bother?” In a weird way, he was relieved that her bluntness hadn’t completely dissipated despite the depression she was going through right now. Still, hearing her say the word ‘dead’ so nonchalantly felt a bit like a punch to the gut.

“Because you love it?” He suggested. He felt himself growing defensive. He couldn’t just sit and watch her ruin her own life. “Because it’s all you��ve ever known? Throwing it away because you feel this way now isn’t going to help you. It’s going to make things worse.”

“I can’t—“ she stopped, then sighed frustratedly. She carded a hand through her wet hair before continuing, “I can’t drive in the rain, Osc. Not when I know that dad died in the same conditions. He was a professional driver, and if he can’t withstand it then I’m scared I won’t be able to, either. I’m just scared.” She finally looked over at him, meeting his gaze. Oscar could’ve sworn that his heart was about to break seeing how much hurt was in her eyes right now. He wished he could take all of it away; anything to make her feel better.

“It’s okay to be scared,” he said gently, taking her hand again. “But fear has never stopped you before. You’re the most badass person I know, Bear. Why let fear control your life now, when you’ve never allowed it to do so before?”

That was when she started crying. For the first time in several days, she broke down. Oscar wasted no time pulling her in for a hug. She buried her face in the crook of his neck, as her whole body seemed to shake from the fit. He had never heard her cry this hard before, and it was difficult for him to keep his own composure. He blinked away his own tears as he softly rubbed her back.

“I’m so mad at the world,” she admitted in between sobs. “I don’t know what I did to deserve this.”

“You didn’t do anything,” Oscar whispered in her ear. “Life just has a cruel way of playing out, sometimes. You didn’t do anything.”

She didn’t respond to him after that, but she didn’t need to. Oscar held on to her tightly as she continued crying, with the rain lightly falling on them. He closed his eyes, allowing a few tears to escape from his own eyes. Things were hard now, but he knew they would push through this. They always did—Simon would want them to not dwell on this, and he knew that. He just hoped and prayed that she knew that too.

.

FOUR YEARS AGO

“F2 Champion has a nice ring to it,” Claire hummed, as Oscar greeted her after the ceremonies. He looked down at the trophy in his hands, basking in his accomplishment.

“I guess it’s okay,” he shrugged sarcastically as he met her gaze again. He could tell she was trying to hold back a smile, but her own happiness betrayed her as it hinted in the corners of her lips. “I’m happy you could be here, you know.”

Now the smile was gone, and his friend shifted uncomfortably. Neither of them wanted to address the elephant in the room. They didn’t have the heart to, anyways. A year without Simon was difficult enough, but now she was leaving him, too. Oscar had researched South Korea. Seoul is over five thousand miles away from Melbourne. It made him sick the first time he read that.

“You know, um,” she cleared her throat as she began playing with the sleek, satin ribbon on her waist. Her dress looked beautiful tonight—pink had always been her color. He wasn’t sure he had really ever seen her like this before—so polished. So mature. He couldn’t recall when she grew up so fast. “My aunt said that you’re welcome to come and stay anytime and she has this really cozy spare room that—“

“Can we…not talk about you leaving?” Oscar interjected. He felt quite rude for saying it, but for one night he just wanted to feel like things were normal. They haven’t been normal since Simon died, and he wanted to spend time with his best friend without talking about something upsetting.

“I don’t want to talk about it just as much as you,” she replied, her expression twisting into one of hurt and disappointment, “but it’s reality, Osc. I’m leaving tomorrow. We can’t keep pushing it off and pretending that in twelve hours, I’ll still be in the room across the hall from you.”

It felt like she had stabbed him just then. Her reaction utterly wounded him. Having his best friend only fifteen feet away from him at all times was the best year ever—but she was right. She wouldn’t be there anymore. She would be almost eighteen hours away.

“I just wanted things to be normal for one night,” he replied softly. He set his trophy down by their feet, then stepped towards her. “I’m not ready to say goodbye, Bear.”

“We have to,” she took a step back, which only hurt him even more. “I’m not staying with you guys tonight. I, um, packed my things before I came here.” It was Oscar’s turn to feel disappointed—to feel hurt. Why wouldn’t she tell him sooner that she wouldn’t be there tonight? They told each other everything…or, used to, anyways.

“So that’s it?” He argued, his voice raising slightly. Nobody at the banquet seemed to be paying attention, though. “You’re just throwing me away? Throwing our friendship away like that? Why didn’t you tell me you wouldn’t be at home tonight?”

“I wanted you to enjoy your ceremony,” she gestured to the trophy on the ground. “I’m not throwing us away, I’m just facing the truth. You can’t live in your cocoon of delusions anymore—“

“God forbid I wanted to enjoy my time with you, Claire,” he angrily interrupted. He hadn’t used her real name in a few years. She had always been Bear to him, and he watched now how this affected her, with her stumbling away from him slightly. He sighed, running a hand through his hair; his tone softer. “It’s not a delusion. I just…don’t know what I’m going to do without you. I didn’t want tonight to be ruined by talking about it.”

When Claire didn’t respond, he knew he fucked up. When she backed up more, was when it solidified that he royally fucked up. He tried to reach for her, but she pulled away.

“I’m sorry I ruined your night, then,” she whispered, but her voice still wavered despite the lowered volume. The way she punctuated the word ‘ruined’ crushed him. He shouldn’t have said that. “I, um, wish you the best, Oscar.” She began gathering her dress in her hands. He hurried after her.

“Claire, please,” he begged. He was struggling with choking back his tears. “Please stay. I’m sorry, I don’t want to leave on these terms.”

It was too late. When she looked at him one last time, he saw that familiar look in her eyes that told him everything he needed to know: her mind was made up. She was leaving, and their friendship was now tainted—if you could even call it a friendship, anymore. They both knew it had been strained since she quit racing, but tonight was the breaking point. Tonight confirmed for them that she was no longer Claire Bear, and he was no longer Osc. They were strangers, and that made him sick. What made him feel even worse was watching her leave, and him not running after her. He let her get away, and that was a regret he would live with for forever.

.

PRESENT DAY

“Alpine is signing on a rookie next season,” Lando announced, lounging back on the boat. The thing bobbed slightly in the water as the waves crashed against it. It was a beautiful day in Monaco, and Oscar could feel the heat from the sun beating down on his closed eyelids.

“They need to get in line,” Oscar joked before taking a swig of the beer bottle in his hands. “Haas is, too. And Mercedes. Alpine isn’t special in that endeavor.”

“I’d disagree,” Oscar could hear the smile in Lando’s voice. He opened his eyes to look to his friend, who was currently lazily scrolling on his phone. “Heard it’s a super rookie. She did some karting stuff as a kid, but didn’t even participate in F3 or F2. No one knows how she managed to get signed.”

“I guess perks of having money?” Oscar suggested, lying down again. “I mean, look at Stroll. He’s only signed cause his dad owns the damn team.” This elicited a laugh from Lando. He set his phone down, then stood up from where he sat. He finished off the remainder of his beer, then set the bottle by his feet.

Their summer break had been rather lazy, but Oscar couldn’t complain too much. Lazy was nice, especially since it’s been a whirlwind of a season so far. With Lando getting his first win in Miami and Oscar getting his first win in Hungary, the two were exhausted.

“Shit, look over there.”

Oscar sat up to see what Lando was gesturing to, where he saw a group of girls on the beach lounging around. They were a bit too far away to make out their faces, but he couldn’t help rolling his eyes. Lando was often one to think with his dick. Oscar enjoyed gawking at the women in Monaco with him, but nothing ever lasted—nothing was ever genuine.

“You can’t even see their faces, dude,” Oscar grumbled. “All you see is their bikini colors.”

“Yeah, and I’m really liking the one with the baby pink bikini,” his friend whistled as he hurried behind the wheel of the boat. Oscar cringed slightly, mostly because pink was a color he hated now. Loathed, actually. Also, hearing the words ‘baby pink’ come from Lando’s mouth was nauseating. Regardless, he let him do his thing as he laid back down and closed his eyes once more. The engine of the boat turned, and he felt as Lando turned it around to begin steering it back to the docks. When it slowed in speed, he heard his friend hop off, and walk down the wooden boardwalk. He began chatting up the girls, with a few of them laughing cheekily at his cliche pickup lines. But one voice rang through Oscar’s veins furiously.

He thought he imagined it, initially. He hadn’t even thought about her for three years. Actually, he had forced himself to forget her completely when she stopped returning his calls. He chose to ignore it, but his heart betrayed him as it picked up speed.

“Lando Norris,” the familiar voice hummed in a flirtatious manner, “you’ve got a reputation, you know.” He heard Lando scoff. She sounded so much older, now.

“Remind me again?” Lando responded. He heard her step closer. He caught his breath. He knew the chair he was lounging on was blocked by the drivers seat of the boat, but if that voice came over here with Lando, he thought he’d probably puke.

“You sleep around,” she stated simply. There was an abrasiveness in her tone, one that practically confirmed it for Oscar that this was who he was afraid it would be. “You don’t call back, you can’t be tied down…tell me why I should go with you?”

Why would she be in Monaco? She had no ties here—or at least, she didn’t when he last saw her. She probably had an entirely new life, now. New friends, new hobbies, maybe even a new boyfriend…he didn’t realize he was panting until he grew lightheaded. This was anxiety, he knew it was.

“Maybe I want you to be the one to change my reputation?” Lando tutted. “Has anyone ever told you that pink looks really good on you?” The girl laughed, and Oscar wanted to cry. He hadn’t heard that laugh since Simon died. He forgot how intoxicating it was—how addicting she was to be around.

“I’m afraid I won’t meet your expectations,” she sighed as her laughter slowed. “I’m looking for commitment, Norris. Not a plaything.” Lando clicked his tongue in disapproval. Oscar could practically see him shaking his head, too. He had a routine when he flirted—one that Oscar had memorized by this point.

“One date,” Lando proposed, clearly feeling confident in his chances. “If you are still convinced I’m not serious, then you can block me and never call me back.” The last part made Oscar’s heart sting. He knew what it was like to be ghosted by Claire. Considering how practically unforgettable she was, he knew that her and Lando would be a recipe for disaster.

“Fine,” she said, giving in to his game. “But it has to be a real date.” Lando chuckled happily.

“Wonderful,” it was his turn to hum flirtatiously, now. “What is your name, darling?”

The next words out of her mouth knocked the air out of Oscar, “I’m Claire Nguyen.”

~

* None of my writing is available for reposting on other platforms. Reblogs, likes, and comments are appreciated.

©️ grogwrites, 2024

[sirfrogsworth]

Early voting to beat the lines... the best-laid schemes of mice and men often go awry.

So... yesterday was quite the day.

After being stuck in bed for the past 6 weeks with some mystery slump, I was finally feeling better. So I decided I would try to cram as many errands into my day as possible. That works better for me when I drive out into the world because I end up only having to do one big recovery instead of a bunch of little recoveries.

My to-do list...

Go to the doctor

Vote early

Return oxygen machine to FedEx store for scammy eBay guy

Return Amazon package to the UPS store

Get gasoline for my whip

Go to Discount Tire to get my tires filled for free

Drop a check off for my lawn guy

Mail a secret package to Katrina at the US Post Office

It would have been nice if I could have gone to just one shipping place instead of all three, but the universe has a sense of humor and likes to do shit like that to me on a regular basis.

So, I get my checkup, it goes quick, no long wait, I'm feeling good.

As I get in my car, it starts to rain. It was an ugly day and it actually has not stopped raining to this very moment a day later. Just gray, windy, chilly, and wet. I look up the voting place and start the GPS.

Wipers and music on full blast, it's time to get my vote on.

When I reach my destination, I realize early voting is at some kind of private golf club. And at the center is a recreation center—which is a public building.

So it's like this private/public turducken situation.

I was expecting this errand to take 20 minutes. Because early voting always seemed like a way to get in before the crowds of election day for a more convenient voting experience.

But the parking lot was packed and I feared my expectations were about to be subverted.

As I walk through the parking lot I see a bunch of signs in the ground.

And a particular one caught my eye.

This is bullshit.

Like, just a straight up lie. No truth to it whatsoever.

Amendment 3 in Missouri basically restores abortion rights in the state. And Republicans have taken issue with the following language...

"The Government shall not deny or infringe upon a person's fundamental right to reproductive freedom, which is the right to make and carry out decisions about all matters relating to reproductive health care, including but not limited to prenatal care, childbirth, postpartum care, birth control, abortion care, miscarriage care, and respectful birthing conditions."

They claim the phrasing "but not limited to" means you can give an 8-year-old kid "sex change surgery."

This is how their online flyer puts it...

It could also include a free puppy.

Or a zillion bucks.

Or a clown will come to your house after the abortion and honk your nose.

It's ridiculous and desperate. I honestly don't know how it is legal for them to put a lie like that outside of a polling location, but here we are.

The organization "Missouri Stands with Women" is run by... a man.

It was set up by a lawyer named "Edward Greim" on behalf of the Federalist Society.

His law firm has a lovely biography about him. And a bunch of publicly available contact information. I say that for no reason whatsoever.

The Federalist Society funds all kinds of shit like this. Their main thing is installing conservative judges all over the country who will reinterpret or negate legislation. And they do it all to "stand with women" by taking away their reproductive rights.

Here is the board of directors of the Federalist Society.

Ya know, before I looked this up, I said to myself, "I bet it's going to be a sausage fest." I am psychic.

I think it would be more accurate to say they stand with A woman.

Just one.

And she sucks.

Nicole is a law professor at Notre Dame. She chose her Catholicism over her right to choose. The Catholic Church will fuck your rights and your children and Nicole will help them do it.

Anyway... back to my quick and easy voting experience...

So as I'm walking in to vote I keep passing a ton of these awful signs. I notice an older woman standing next to the aforementioned "child sex change" sign and she says, "Can I talk to you about Amendment 3?"

At this point, I'm pretty angry. I look her dead in the eyes and say with my most assholish tone, "NO." as I walk past her.

And then she finishes her sentence...

"...to protect the reproductive rights of women."

Ah, dammit.

I thought she was an old Karen but she was cool as heck. Standing out in the rain telling people the sign is bullshit. I wanted to turn around and apologize but I was stuck in full social anxiety mode so I just kept walking.

If that old lady happens to have a Tumblr and follows me and is willing to read this giant story... I just want to say I am sorry. I thought you were awful and I should have let you finish your sentence. You're super cool and I'm happy there are folks like you fighting for what is right.

I get inside and a young woman greets me. She tells me the line is in the next room and points. I still wasn't quite sure what the situation was. The parking lot being full gave me pause, but I was still hopeful I could have a swift early voting experience.

But I walk through the doors and into a huge gymnasium and my heart sinks.

It's hard to represent in pictures how long this line is.

It goes all the way to the end of the gym, loops around, and comes back. At first I was not too discouraged, because there was a nice gentle ramp at the start of the line.

But then I notice several sets of stairs at different stages of the line. And I'm just thinking how hard it would be to stand in this line and then also having to go up and down several sets of stairs.

So I go back to the young woman working there and ask what their accessible voting options are. And she told me I could do curbside voting and points outside. I then notice a line of cars wrapped around the parking lot. I don't know how I didn't see them walking in, but I guess I was too busy being a jerk to elderly progressive women.

My biggest concern was time.

The longer this takes, the more energy I use up, the longer my eventual recovery will be.

They tell me the car option is the slowest. And I could be in line for 2 to 3 hours. And then an old man who seemed to be in charge walks over and tells me the fastest option is to stand in line.

So I walk back out to my car and grab my cane and decide to try the long serpentine gynasium line.

I start walking up the ramp and some of the other folks see how slow and labored I'm walking and they start encouraging me. "You can do it! You got this!" Which I suppose was meant to be a positive helpful thing. But I found it to be embarrassing.

I get to the end of the line and notice most of the line has bleachers directly next to it. So I decide to sit down and rest and figure out how I am going to survive this experience.

It took me a while to recover from the long walk to this spot. I watched a bunch of people pass me by and the line was actually getting much longer as I rested. I was not really sure what to do. I was trying to problem-solve this situation but the answer that kept popping up in my mind was just... "go home."

But I felt this was too important and that wasn't really an option.

My best idea was to ask someone if they would hold my spot in line. Perhaps I could just sit in the bleachers and follow them around in the line, staying as close to them as I could. But my social anxiety was set to maximum and I was not finding the courage to ask someone.

After about 10 minutes of sitting, resting, and thinking, I basically say, "Fuck it, I'll try to stand in line."

I get up and start walking to the end of the line.

Then I hear a voice yell out to me.

"Hey, man! Come over here! This is your spot!"

A young man was waving at me. He was accompanied by his wife. Both of them were dressed in black and they had a sort of goth skater aesthetic going on. He had a competitively bushy beard, but with less gray. And she had very vivid purple hair.

I was a little confused and still processing what was happening. Then they both started waving at me to join them in line. They remembered I got there just before and told me I should be in front of them. I walk over and thank them. Then he suggests...

"Hey, why don't you just sit in the bleachers and follow us around the line."

He suggested my idea!

Without me asking!

I felt like he read my mind or something.

Can bearded people read each others' minds? Was this some beard skill I was unaware of?

"I got you, man. You just sit and we'll keep your place."

And his violet hair'd significant other agreed. "Yeah, we got you."

The kindness of strangers was more accessible than my polling place and I was just so thankful in that moment.

So I sat in the bleachers and watched them traverse the line. In the middle of the gym there were some teenagers playing basketball. And so I just rested and watched them play.

That young man in the red pants was like a goddamn Harlem Globetrotter. He was just embarrassing the others. He was bouncing the ball behind his back and through his legs and then he just danced around his opponents like a figure skater. It was such an unbalanced matchup. He might as well have been playing 4th graders. Not only was he significantly faster and more maneuverable, but he was consistently hitting 3-pointers.

And then during a break, he ran towards the hoop, jumped from the free throw line, flew all the way to the net, grabbed onto the rim, and proceeded to do several pull ups as if they were the easiest thing in the world. I don't think I've seen anyone jump that far and that high in real life and it was just a bonkers display of athleticism.

I spent the entire wait watching him humiliate the others—hoping he would get a full ride scholarship to some prestigious university.

And I hoped the other boys paid attention in school and got straight As, because basketball was not going to work out for them.

As my new goth skater friends progressed through the line, I would make sure to keep sight of them. Every once in a while I'd give them a head nod to acknowledge we were in this together. After an hour and a half they were at the final segment of the line, so I sat next to the wheelchair folks.

I probably could have argued to sit with them in the first place. But I really did not feel like making the case that I was just as disabled as them and needed that level of consideration. The old man running things seemed quite stressed and was putting out 8 fires at once. And my anxiety wasn't really cooperating enough to be assertive in my needs.

But it worked out in the end, so I'm not going to dwell on the lack of accommodation for people who weren't *visually* disabled.

My new bearded friend neared the end and waved me over. I thanked him and his wife profusely.

I joked, "Thank you for adopting a voter."

They seemed confused by my joke.

"No problem, man. Happy to help."

I told him and his wife they truly saved me. "I honestly don't think I would have made it through the line." And then I looked back...

I said, "As crazy as this is, I do find this kind of turnout encouraging." His wife agreed and said, "We were saying the same thing!" And then I thought, "Can the wives of bearded people absorb the mind reading ability? I hope she can't read my mind right now. Although, I'm mostly thinking that her hair is a really cool shade of purple, so she'd probably find that complimentary."

As I waited to get my ballot I could hear the happy couple behind me. They were very cute. They were making fun of each other in a very lovey-dovey fashion. I had high hopes they were going to grow old and gray and purple together based on their chemistry. And I was just so thankful they were able to recognize that I needed help without me asking. Because I probably would have just caved to my anxiety and not asked for help otherwise.

I got my ballot and sat down to fill in all of the appropriate squares. Thankfully I had prepared a cheat sheet on my phone.

It was an exact replica so I was able to copy it and finish quite rapidly.

Then I fed my votes into the vote-eating monster and they gave me a sticker.

My quick 20 minute adventure to vote early only took 2.5 hours!

And because I didn't want to buck tradition, I stood outside in the wind and the rain and took a voting selfie.

Yep, that seems about right.

Ah, crap... that was only the second thing on my to-do list.

Let's speedrun the rest of this story, shall we?

I drove to FedEx. I hauled a 40 pound box inside. I plopped it on the counter and said, "Man, this thing is heavy!" as I tried to catch my breath. The 20 year old working there then lifted it like it was a feather and I felt great about that.

I drove to the gas station because I was nearly on empty—that is both a metaphor and not a metaphor. I filled my ride with go juice.

I noticed I was a mile from the tire store and they fill up tires for free. So I did that and the guy was super nice and complimented my tires. I felt both weird and proud about having my tires complimented. Like, I had nothing to do with my tires being nice. But I accepted the praise on their behalf.

I drove to the UPS store. The last time I was there I made a scene. They refused to box up a return and I got upset and wasn't feeling well and they had to find a chair for me to sit in because I was going to faint. So I was hoping the same woman wasn't there, but she was. She didn't recognize me, so it was fine.

I drove to my lawn guy's house. He wasn't home. I dropped a check in his mailbox. My checks have corgis on them. My checks are cute.

I drove to the post office. I sent a secret package to my bestie, Katrina. I'd tell you what is in it, but it is an inside joke and you wouldn't get it. The woman noticed my voting sticker and I couldn't help thinking about what I just accomplished to get that sticker.

On my way out I noticed a miracle.

2 of the 4 doors were fixed!

I mean, I don't know why they couldn't fix all 4, but now the employees won't freeze in the winter. So I take that as a win. It only took a year and a half to accomplish and I'm sure all of my phone calls and emails did not help at all. But I'm going to pretend I saved the day regardless.

And then... I drove home.

5 hours of errands.

I was so fucking tired. My back was on fire with pain. I immediately collapsed into my bed. I passed out. And I slept for 14 hours.

The End

[livwritesstuff]

you know that feeling where you’re having a god-awful day and all you really want is a hug but you’re at work so, like, that’s not gonna happen, and you basically just have to stew in all those shitty feelings and wait out the clock? yeah, me too, that’s kind of where this came from.

Eddie had a tough day.

It had started early that morning when the girls missed their school bus – not a huge deal, honestly, he was already gonna be leaving early to go get his car looked at.

But then he got shitty news from the mechanic, and then a meeting with his agent didn’t go the way he’d wanted at all, and then Hazel ended up being a total pain in the ass after he picked her up from kindergarten, and during her relentless haranguing, she knocked one of Eddie’s favorite mugs off the counter. It shattered, obviously, and she cried about it so he’d had to deal with both of those things at once, and it was just a day.

None of it was anything he couldn’t handle – the problem was the compounding nature of it and the way he basically just had to stew in it all until the next obstacle came along and made shit even worse.

All Eddie really wanted was Steve, and how Steve being around made dealing with this stuff so much easier, even if every other circumstance was the same.

He has to share Steve, though, and today he’s sharing him with Steve’s work until four o’clock.

It’s fine.

He can wait until four.

The older two girls got off their bus at half-past three, and, seriously, someone must have put something in the water this morning because they are in rare goddamn form today. If Hazel alone was bad, all three of them together were…well, thrice that. It’s like the universe said I see your bad day and I raise you three elementary schoolers hitting their peak annoyance thresholds simultaneously.

And it’s not like Eddie can even fucking fold, either.

It’s cold and kind of windy outside, which is Eddie’s least favorite weather and he’d thought maybe the girls would want to go right inside, but no. Of course they want to dig out the chalk that got stashed away in the garage last fall, and while Eddie is stuck shivering outside breaking up dumb arguments about who’s allowed to use which colors (he figured the answer was an obvious everyone, but apparently that’s incorrect), Steve leaves a message saying he tacked on an emergency session onto the end of his day and now he’s not out until five.

Eddie doesn’t hear it until he’s back inside, obviously, but when he does it’s like someone ran a whole fucking dagger through his chest.

He’s halfway through making dinner when Steve gets home (he’d actually be done making dinner if the pot of water hadn’t boiled off while he’d dealt with yet another stupid argument), and he drops everything to meet him at the door.

It’s like Steve can tell in an instant the kind of day Eddie had.

“What happened?” he asks as he toes off his shoes.

Eddie shakes his head, “Everything…nothing…I don’t even know. Just…one of those days.”

Steve nods his understanding, and as soon as he’s got his coat hung up he’s pulling Eddie into a hug.

It ends up being kind of a bone-crushing one — that’s on Eddie, though. He’d just fucking needed it. He knows he’d needed it when Steve’s arms tighten around his shoulders and he feels that much better.

“You okay?” Steve asks without letting him go, the breath of his words hitting warm against Eddie’s neck.

“Just tired,” he answers.

Steve pulls away.

“You can take a break, Ed,” he says, and there’s something in his eyes – not concern, exactly, but more like awareness, “I’ll be up in a bit.”

Eddie just nods and heads for the stairs. As he goes, he faintly hears Steve asking, “What the hell did you guys do to Dad today?”, followed by the girls’ defensive protests.

In their room, Eddie makes it through one full rerun of Star Trek and then the first few minutes of a second before Steve joins him.

He notices that it’s quiet downstairs for the first time that evening, and he tries not to take it too personally. He’s always been comfortable in the knowledge that Steve might be better at the whole parenting thing than him (psych degrees and all that), but, shit, if he’s that much better…

“What’d you do, strangle them?” Eddie asks as Steve swaps his jeans out for a pair of faded plaid pajama pants.

“No, I told them that if I hear a single peep in the next hour I’m beheading all their stuffed animals.”

Eddie blinks.

Okay, maybe better isn’t exactly the right word.

“So they’re on verbal lockdown, basically,” Steve finishes.

“Jesus Christ, Steve,” Eddie shakes his head, “You’re kind of crazy.”

“Yeah, well, you were always gonna rub off on me one of these days — don’t.”

And Eddie couldn’t help the way he threw his head back and laughed.

[jjkarmy091]

Second Best- Jungkook (part 4)

Summary: Being friends with someone who has your heart it’s already hard, let alone when that special someone ends up falling in love with your best friend, the one you think would never make anything to hurt you . Will you be able to ignore it and move on? what will happen when everything gets too much for you to handle?

Genre: Friends to lovers; angst; body insecurities; bullying; friend betrayel;

Pairing: Jungkook x female!reader

Note: Thank you so much for your love and support <3 If there is any mistakes I'm sorry. Let me know so I can correct it. Lots of love

After being there for a while, lost in his thoughts, he felt an arm around him. He didn't have to look back to know who it was.

“I was looking for you baby. Why did you leave like that? I mean I wasn't expecting it but I- ” Jungkook interrupted her  

“I saw Y/n just a few minutes ago. She told me to tell you she had someone waiting for her outside and she was leaving. Did you two come with anyone else?” 

“Y/n left? She didn’t say anything else? No, we came alone but got apart after. Maybe she followed our steps and decided to get some action for the night. I was starting to worry for her, I mean who doesn’t want to get laid once in a while?”  

Jungkook looked at Sewoon with discuss and took her arm off of him, paid for what he consumed and started to leave without saying anything else. Sewoon grabbed his hand but he quickly took it out. She looked so confused he started to laugh  

“Sewoon I- did you hear yourself back there? What does it matter if she gets laid or not? Why is that even on your mind? Aren't you worried about her? She left alone with someone neither you and I know. Are you-” 

“Why do you care so much Jungkook. Seriously, she’s an adult. If she left with someone was because she felt safe with that person. I’m sure she isn't thinking about you or me right now.” she approached him more and touched his buff chest “why don’t we do the same, hm. Let's leave, enjoy our night together. I missed you and I know you missed me too, let's -” 

“I’m not in the mood Sewoon. Honestly i just want to go home. This been a hell of a night and one to forget. Are you staying or want me to drop you off somewhere?” Sewoon’s face changed drastically. From a sweet and seductive expression to one Jungkook wasn't familiar with. He wasn't about to put up with it, so he said his goodbye and left on his motorcycle.  

-----------

Meanwhile Y/n, after that little fight with Jungkook finally found Lisa resting near a wall outside of the club. “I was wondering if I had to go get you” “sorry this guy messed with me and then Jungkook stepped in and it was a whole mess and -” 

“Wait wait, Jungkook? A male name you say?” she teased Y/n while she sighed “yeah like I said long story.” They started walking until they reached Lisa's car and got in, when she asked “do you wanna go to mine? Drink some wine, eat a lot of crappy food while you tell me all about this jungkook and what Sewoon has to do with it.” Lisa didn’t have to wait for Y/n’s answer since her big smile said enough. When they got to her apartment, Y/n’s mouth dropped to the floor. It was such a big and nice apartment, so cozy and simple while hers was so small she could barely move, but was the only thing she could pay for.  

Lisa went to grab two glasses and some rosé wine and ordered some Mcdonalds, then they sat on her comfortable white couch and y/n started to explain her situation. 

“It happened one day during winter. I had just started working at the coffee shop. It was very rainy and windy so it was almost empty, just two or three clients max. Sana, my work collegue, was on her break and I was organizing the cupcake counter when I saw this beatiful young guy walk in. I froze. I literally panicked Lisa, you have no idea. He was so gorgeous and I was full of flour on my clothes and face and I was alone at the time so i did what I do best, embarass myself” Talking about this Y/n could feel it like it was yesterday and smiled so lightly and genuinely. When was the last time this happened, she thought.

“Please tell me you didn’t say any jokes involving flour and cupcakes” Y/n gave her a tiny slap in the arm and laughed. "Pff who do you think I am? No I didn't do that, I did worse. literally hid myself under the balcony right in front of him, stayed there for a minute until he made a noise with his throat and asked me if I lost something and needed help finding it”  

Right there Lisa couldn’t control her laughter, placing her glass on the nearest table only to fall on the ground dying of laughter. Once it ceased she grabbed the glass of wine again, taking a few sips “you are unbelieveable Y/n. Thank you for making me laugh so much today. That happens when you revolve your life around others you know? But please continue don't let me stop you. I like where this is going” she mocked again.

Y/n rolled her eyes. Never has she been more embarassed in her life. “You’re supposed to make me feel better” she mumbled. “Well... After that, I got up so quickly that I almost fell. I apologized and said I dropped my earring and was looking for it. The best part? I don’t even have holes in my ears. But he didn’t say anything about it, pretty sure he noticed I was a nervous mess and dropped it before I could make it any worse. He gave me a big smile so I smiled back, asked him what his order was and then -" Suddenly you were interrupted by a knock on the door. Lisa got up and went to see if it was your order, got back inside with it and after settling everything on the table you started to eat. Never a meal tasted so good.

-----

A few minutes later Lisa speaks again “back to our convo, what happened? After you took his order”. Y/n sighed “you love to know everything don’t you?” she laughed “he asked for a cupcake and hot chocolate. He was always very kind even when I was being so weird you know? But he got me so nervous I didn’t want to have any more interaction with him so I tried to stall until Sana finished her break but she was taking so long and I noticed him taking some glances over, so I knew it had to be me. As I reached his table I tripped, leading me to drop the hot chocolate on him--- Gosh I shouldn't be telling you this. You’re gonna tease me for the rest of my life” 

“No wonder the dude got so hooked on you after. You did quite an introduction” Lisa said cleaning the tears coming out her eyes from laughing. “Poor guy just wanted a cupcake and ended up getting a burn”

“Don't even remind me. I thought it was it. I just burned a client and made a mess, I was sure I was gonna be fired. But Jungkook remained so calm, told me he was okay. I helped him and didn’t stop apologizing to him, told him I was new in there but that was no excuse so if he wanted to talk to the manager I'd understand and offered to pay any sort of damage. You know what he did? Turns to me and says I’m cute. I burned him and he called me cute. I lost it” 

“He seems like an amazing guy Y/n. I figure ever since that day he went back to the coffee shop ?” Lisa spoke softly 

“He did. After that incident I tried to avoid him so bad but he would always ask for me to Sana, leaving me with no other choice. We ended up getting close and I developed a huge crush on him that everyone knew about but him” Y/n gaze turns sad remembering the day Jungkook and Sewoon met.  

"So how did he meet Sewoon?” Lisa asked curious. “At the coffee shop. She passed by to tell me that she got in the agency she wanted and then Jungkook walked in. She knew about him and asked if that was the one I’ve been talking about. Then I went to see what he wanted to get and he asked me about my friend so I introduced them. Didn’t expect them to turn out a couple. Not like that . I think I was hoping that Sewoon would refuse, knowing that I had a crush on him and that we were quite close.”

“So she knew and still went for him? That little bitch. I knew she wasn't as good as she seemed” Lisa said irritated. “She asked me. One night she appeared in my house and asked me if I still liked him. I was the one who told her to go for it.” Y/n said with tears already forming in her eyes. Lisa approached her and gave her the longest hug, patting her back. “still Y/n, that’s very low of her. It’s girls code. Did you ever told her no?” Your silence was the answer she needed. “God Y/n I’m trying so hard not to diss you right now. When are you gonna put yourself first? When are you gonna stop behaving like someone else's puppet? Be honest with me, do you like your life?” 

That rang a bell in Y/n’s ears. No she didn’t. She wanted to visit places, have fun, be herself, leave that place she called home and stop working in the coffee shop just to focus on her dreams. She was about to answer but Lisa got ahead of her. “You know what? Take some days off. Let’s have a girls trip you and me. I’m bored here and you need a way out of this whole mess. It’s time for you to find yourself Y/n.” “I don’t have any money for that Lisa. It’s hard for me to pay the rent let alone go on a trip”

“Move in with me. It’s just me in here and as you see, this house is huge. And no one told you anything about paying. Pretty sure you don’t remember but my dad works in an airplane company. Think about it.” Lisa exclaimed super enthusiastic  

Before Y/n could answer, her phone started to ring. She looked over “Jungkookie”

“Are you gonna pick up?”

“No. No I’m not. You're right Lisa I have to start doing things for me. Put myself first" she looked over the window "About your idea, I’m in. Book us a flight. Tomorrow morning I’ll talk to the my manager. I never took days of so it won't be a problem. Let's do it” 

" I knew you were gonna say yes. Get ready because this trip is gonna be life changer" Lisa said making a toast with Y/n. Here comes a new opportunity. You wouldn't less this one miss.

Not anymore

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

Tags: @esposadomd @joonlover1207 @eegyo @furrywonderlandwolf @minghaosimp @differentrunawayperson @nikkinikj @jksusawife

[callme-holly]

OKAY OKAY, HEAR ME OUT....

Darry x wife reader where they have a son, and he really really wants to be just like his dad and play football and is low-key a terror to his mom...

𝐝𝐚𝐝!𝐝𝐚𝐫𝐫𝐲 𝐱 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫 [𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐢𝐫 𝐬𝐨𝐧]

𝐚/𝐧 : y'all wanted more dad!darry and im delivering. i was hoping to get a bunch posted but i feel like shit and ive been crazy busy

The second your son was born, you knew he’d be just like Darry, and he’d be an absolute nightmare.

Darry is so incredibly proud of his boy and with each passing day, you could spot more and more similarities between them 

As soon as he can walk, your son is toddling around after Darry everywhere he goes. This kiddo is obsessed. 

When he’s old enough, Darry would start teaching your son about football, and soon it becomes a routine for them to sit on the couch together after Darry comes home from work and watch the games together

Your son looks up to Darry like he’s some type of idol. He always says that when he grows up, he wants to be just kike his dad, and you can’t even be upset about it bc its so damn cute

The gang teases you all the time for it because having to deal with one Curtis boy is enough, but two? Chaos.

These boys are always playing football in the yard together. I’m talking 24/7. Whether its raining, windy, or sunny. They don’t care. It becomes a problem for you, however, when you’re the one who has to wash muddy clothes and makes sure they stay off the couches and go take showers. 

Your son copies everything Darry does, from the way he drinks his coffee and reads the paper in the morning (except he swaps it out for milk and a comic), right down to the way he walks around the house with his hands on his hips. 

Both Darry and your son are fiercely protective of you, and when he’s older, your boy will fight for your honour if it’s the last thing he does. If anyone makes even the smallest comment about you, he’ll glare at them, puffing out his chest whilst delivering the sassiest comment a kid can come out with.

Sometimes when Darry is working late, your son will help you “cook” dinner the same way his dad taught him. It more often than not ends with him covered in ingredients, and you do most of the work, but he gets 50% of the credit regardless.

At bedtime, Darry will sit and read to your son until he falls asleep. Sometimes he tells stories from high school or about the gang, and your son hangs onto every single word, thinking they’re the coolest stories ever. 

The teen years are when things get crazy

Your baby boy has a growth spurt out of nowhere and it isn’t long before he’s the spitting image of his dad: broad shoulders, serious expression, and slowly growing taller than you 

Arguments happen a little more often. Their personalities are so similar that they tend to clash and butt heads, leading to you having to bring everyone back down to earth. They end up making up eventually, whether thats through talking it out or soft teasing until the other laughs.

[koolades-world]

do you think we'd be together in every life?

volume one: everyday life; leviathan

in which you and your lover are brought together over and over again no matter the timeline, no matter the circumstances

"Levi, do you think we'd be together in every life?" You asked him.

"You'd pick me every time? If you'll have me, yes." He responded.

…

When you arrived at the coffee shop you always did your work at that morning, things were as usual. You entered, ordered your usual drink and pastry, and sat at your favorite table outside. The weather was perfect for sitting outside. Crisp, but not too windy, and sunny, but not blinding. You set up your laptop and dug out all your supplies. But before you began working, you planned to enjoy your food and enjoy the scenery.

When you’d first moved the area, you’d gotten lost easily four times a day, even if you’d planned out your route. It always came back to you having to use the maps app on your phone, and even that wasn’t perfect. Sometimes, it tried to take you through areas you couldn’t go through, such as construction sites or blocked off areas. Sometimes, it tried to get you to do the physically impossible, like walk across rivers or through walls. And sometimes, it didn't even take you to the right place, even after triple checking that the address you'd entered was correct.

After talking to locals, who soon became your friends, they told you that everyone seemed to have this issue. Something about the area and maps just didn't agree. While there were maps plastered on every corner, those passing through ignored them. They thought they knew where they were going since they had their phone. This would work everywhere but where you lived.

It was safe to say you understood the plight of those who were in the position that you were not too long ago. So, when an anime convention popped up in town, you just knew you’d encounter a variety of lost conversation goers. Your coffee shop, and apartment, were pretty far from the convention center, though, so you weren’t too sure what to expect.

As you munched on your breakfast, you people watched. You’d likely be spending the rest of the day staring at your screen, so you wanted to do something other than that while you could. It was a beautiful morning anyways. A couple people you saw walk by almost everyday passed by. People on their way to work, presumably. You'd never stopped to ask them, but you'd miss them if they stopped walking by one day.

However, halfway through a bite of croissant, someone new walked by. He had a shock of blue-indigo hair, and was in some sort of armor. A small backpack was slung over one of his shoulders, and was decorated with all sorts of pins that reflected in the light. He was looking between his phone and the area around him, confusion painted all over his face. You could quickly tell he must've been bound for the convention, but had gotten lost on the way there just as you had predicted people might be.

The armor wearing stranger took a seat on the sidewalk across the road from you, still looking puzzled. You didn't want to embarrass him, so you decided to pretend not to notice him. But, the longer he sat there, the more guilty you felt for not helping. So, you began yelling at him, trying your best not to sound crazy.

"Hey! Knight with the blue hair! Come over here!" You waved one of your hands in the air. He looked like a deer in headlights. Despite being the only other person on the street, he still pointed to himself as if there was a chance you could be talking to another blue haired knight. After you nodded, he finally stood up and walked closer to you.

"I'm guessing you aren't from around here." You dusted your hands off, and turned to face him.

"No..." He sounded very forlorn.

"I could tell. Not your fault though. Just something about this area causes maps apps to misbehave. That's what I'm assuming happened, right?" His eyebrows shot into his hairline.

"Yes." He affirmed your prediction.

"So, I'm guessing you're headed to the convention then. What made you pick to stay so far away?" You asked, curious.

"Well... it was cheaper. I figured that if I saved that money, I could spend it on something else." He nervously shuffled his feet, and stared at the ground.

"No need to feel ashamed. I would do the same thing. Do you want help getting to the convention center?" You extended your help to him.

"Really? Are you actually offering me help?" He looked at you like you were his saving grace, probably because you were.

"You could use it, right? Besides, I'm not too busy right now. My work day doesn't begin for another hour and a half." You always arrived early so you'd have time to settle into working and enjoy your morning.

"Are you sure you don't mind?" He asked one more time just to be sure, as if you might take it all back.

"Not at all." You nodded.

"Thank you so much! I owe you my life." He exclaimed, and threw his arms around you. He almost immediately realized his mistake, and began to profusely began to apologize. You laughed it off, and began to pack up your things to walk this stranger to the convention center. Talking to him about the convention was the only way to get him to say more than a couple words at a time, so you did just that.

"I like your cosplay. I don't think I've said that yet. It suits you." You didn't know him, or his name, but it was oddly fitting.

"You're too kind to me. It took me forever to make. I figured I had to cosplay him because we looked so similar." You could tell just how excited he was about that fact.

"You did a great job then. So, did you dye your hair for the occasion?" You gestured to his hair.

"No, actually. That's the natural color. Really weird, I know. You don't need to tell me." He looked away from you.

"I like it. It's a pretty color." He whipped his head back around, allowing you to get the first good look at his eyes since you'd met. You hadn't gotten the chance to study them because eye contact seemed to make him nervous. They were a striking orange, with hues that matches his hair pooling at the bottom. He didn't have a response, but his face quickly gained a bright pink color. You couldn't help but giggle at his response to your compliment.

The two of you got along like a house on fire. You quickly discovered you liked a couple of the same animes. Your time together passed much too quickly for your liking. By the time you were in front of the convention center, he'd really come out of his shell.

"So, what's your name, Knight with the blue hair?" You asked.

"Levithan. But, my brothers call me Levi." He let out a breath he'd been holding.

"Nice to meet you, Levi. I'm Mc." You smiled at him. Levi looked like he had something to say, but closed his mouth. "Have a great time at the convention." You took a couple steps back and waved. He lifted his arm and watched you as you left.

You walked back to the cafe you'd started at, but you couldn't stop thinking about Levi. You assumed you'd never see him again, so you tried not to linger on thoughts of him. The map had taken him to you randomly, and if he tried to do it again tomorrow, or later than evening, there was no way it would take him back to you again.

So, you went back to work. You hung out a little longer than you usually would, maybe because you hoped you'd see him again. After that, you headed home, and repeated the same thing the next morning. You ordered your usual, and sat down at the same table.

At around the same time as a the previous day, Levi showed up again. He walked right up to you, and it seemed like, just like yesterday, he had something to say.

"It's you again! How was yesterday? Fun?" You grinned at him, happy to see him again.

"Thank you." He blutered out. It caught you by surpirse. When he noitced your face, he explained. "I forgot to say it yesterday. I actually didn't forget, I was afraid. But, I came back to tell you that."

"You're welcome. It was no big deal." The fact that he found you just to say thank you was touching.

"I want to get to know you better." He started turning that same shade of pink again.

"I couldn't stop thinking about you." You admitted. He slapped a hand over his mouth, seemingly concealing a grin.

"Do you have time to come to the convention with me today? I thought of you when I saw some of the booths." He wrung his hands together, seemingly like he was ready to run if you said no.

"I do, actually. I don't have a cosplay like you do, but that still sounds fun. Is it possible for me to get a ticket this late?" You began to riffle through your bag, searching for money.

"I bought a VIP pass, and it came with a guest pass. But, I came alone." Levi told you.

"You're so sweet." You gave him a smile that came from within, and you were almost certain you blinded him with it. But, regardless of that, he outstretched his hand to you. You got the feeling you'd get to know him well.

[zzencat]

Why Am I So Hard On Myself? - Timeless ⏳

Breathe and choose. Left to right.

Kinda doing this one on a whim but figured it could help anyone who needs to be heard and have their doubts or feelings validated. You’re not alone. Does it say anything else about you?

TO ENHANCE ACCURACY BEFORE CHOOSING: Clear your mind. Time is now patient and still. Close your eyes, inhale deeply, fill your chest up to the fullest, feel the soft air brush up against the ridges of your nose. Breathe out.

———————————————-

Pile 1 | “no matter how hard i try…”

somehow, something always goes wrong. you always try to salvage what you can, picking up the pieces and trying to make the most of the situation, but maybe the timing is shit, or it isn’t met up to standard. plans ruined, connections gone, opportunities lost. even when all you do is try and try. you might even think “why is this even happening? im only breathing”

small note: while shuffling, it was going pretty nicely then cards started flying out of my hands like fliers on a windy day. it’s a small thing, but to me, it has to do with having constant roadblocks and inconveniences, and that maybe you feel like you’re at your last straw sometimes

you want to be seen for your efforts. at least some acknowledgment that someone knows, sees, and understands that you’re trying. someone to hear you out for once and take you seriously, even if none of what you’d done or contributed has worked before. just acknowledgment would be enough. maybe you’re the only one who recognizes your efforts.

i think you struggle with maintaining career, friendships, or really anything, in general. the foundations laid out might’ve been risky or unstable to begin with so you could question why things don’t last for you. a part of you expects the heartbreak to happen.

it’s crazy bc in this pile, there’s so much…optimism and hope (that might be dying out or feels like it has already) that one day something will work out

your heart isn’t completely closed and you’ll still have it open to accept things, even when you think it shouldn’t. this is what makes you a stronger person. it opens a wide range of doors for you, whether you know it or not. don’t give up.

———————————————————————————————————————

Pile 2 | “look out!”

you’re so used to prioritizing others and putting yourself last. bc of this, you could’ve missed out on many things and lost opportunities

you have a big heart and hella good energy — an abundance of it — but for some reason, it’s rarely spent on yourself

you feel like it’s your responsibility, all of it — to run or lead things, as if it’s all in your hands. to take over when things are about to fall apart. who made it your responsibility to carry the burdens of others? what happens then if they don’t reciprocate or return the same generosity?

all of this energy is being redirected to the wrong places when you should be thinking about yourself too. how can you help others when you can’t even help yourself? how about your own dreams and goals? you’re human too, so you need the care and support as well. your energy doesn’t just grow on trees. put yourself high on your own list. make yourself a priority for once. book a spa day and have someone else take over for the day.

——————————————————————————————————-

Pile 3 | *whistling*

for this pile, it seems to be more family related, where your pursuits, outlooks, or the way you treat yourself is how you were treated growing up. there’s some connection to pile 2 as well, so there could be some messages in pile 2 for you if it caught your eye

parent(s)/caretakers put a lot of pressure on you with crazy expectations or nitpicking, sometimes maybe even emotional manipulation like guilt tripping

there’s a need to take more charge in your life, especially in the creative and emotional corners of it, and also to create more meaningful and deep connections

some people in this pile might be easily defensive as well too. in this lifetime, you’re gonna learn to put your guard down, bc perhaps you’d grown up feeling trapped and forced into a mold you didn’t belong in

you could struggle with emotional commitment or generally sticking to one thing. there are probably too many things you wanna do or end up trying at least once. relationships might not last too long. there could even be a subconscious fear that you won’t be able to meet someone else’s emotional needs or standards.

you’re very spontaneous and prob get bored easily. also prob struggled academically (ex: having a hard time understand in subjects, sticking to one thing/constantly changing interests or majors, feeling trapped, giving up)

you’re lowkey a perfectionist. perhaps you’re never satisfied bc you grew up with that kind of dissatisfaction on yourself, likely by adults or maybe just things you’d picked up from adolescence

at some point, you might reflect back and feel disappointed in yourself, even if you’d just had the time of your life. it seems like this pile indulges in more superficial activities/substances to fill in the void in that chest

—————————————————————————

ending teddy note: hey guys! been a while but here’s a pac for ya!! i think this is a great pac if you don’t have someone to acknowledge the potential issues going on in your life. thank you for taking the time to read this and i really hope you enjoy it! rmr to take what resonates and leave what doesn’t. ciao!! :P

i would appreciate the feedback! lemme know what you got or think in the comments or reblogs 🦾

- The Tedster