#2 and a 1/2 years later that’s still pissing me off

[tryingonametaphor]

today i’m thinking about that stupid airport non-hug from mike wheeler and i’m mad on behalf of will byers

[timeisacephalopod]

Apparently my sister, the one I no longer speak to because calling the cops on me and trying to have me charged for sending 4 texts because she didn't like the contents while never calling the cops on the boyfriend that beat her kid is disgusting, asked how I was to someone I haven't even met because they know someone I do then immediately followed that up with "we don't talk." So 1- don't tell everyone and their dog my fucking business it's not their problem and 2, if we don't talk then that should tell you how much I want you to know about how I'm doing- zilch!

[unknownplane]

The Court Jester Part 4

Yandere Batfam x GN Reader

Pt. 1, Pt. 2, Pt. 3

Waking up (Y/N)'s head felt fuzzy. Somehow, they felt constricted even though they could move. Looking around, they found themselves in a large room. The bed felt as if it was encasing them. They felt themselves looking for their weapon. Not being able to find it, they get up and start looking around the room.

The room was blank, as if it was a canvas waiting to be painted. It irritated them. 'Where the fuck am I? The last thing I can remember was... oh fuck. Dads gonna be soo pissed! I never got him his drink!'. (Y/N) frantically began looking for a way out realizing they were asked to get something for there dad. They went to the door and found it locked.

Just as they were going to open the other door in the room, the locked door burst open. Bruce Wayne flung himself into the room. "My baby! You're awake! God, what did that monster do to you?" Bruce questioned as he got closer to (Y/N). As soon as he got close enough (Y/N) tripped him and forced him into the ground. "Where am I?! The fuck have you done with my dad?!" (Y/N) yelled. "No need to be hostile kid. We just saved your ass." Jason stated walking into the room. Amused that Bruce had been caught off guard by your violence. Bruce suddenly got out of the hold as (Y/N)s attention shifted to Jason and held their hands behind their back. "You bitch! The fuck are you doing! Let me go!" (Y/N) screamed with struggling in his hold. "No (Y/N), we just got you back, and we are going to help you get better." Bruce stated in a firm tone. "I don't need fixing you limp dick son of a bitch! My dad molded me in his image and I'm perfect because of that!" (Y/N) howled. "I think my dear sibling needs some alone time." Jason said. Bruce nodded his head and let go of (Y/N) and left the room. "Just so you know (Y/N) because, even though you are fucked, and I still love you the Joker is dead." Jason professed before he left the room and locked the door.

"No, he's lying. He can't die. He always comes back." (Y/N) whispered and unknowingly started crying. They began to throw themselves around the room, trying to find a way out, and ultimately broke an arm. It took an hour before it eventually healed. Their mental state making it more difficult to heal.

About an hour later, Damian entered the room with a change of clothes. He fought with his sibling for this opportunity to talk with (Y/N) and was going to take advantage of the situation. "Hello, sibling. I have brought you a change of clothes as the ones you are currently wearing are covering in blood and dirt. I hope we can get on better terms during your stay here." Damian spoke calmly, as if he was talking to a terrified animal. "Ah, if it isn't the other basterd child of Bruce Wayne. Tell me how does it feels to know that if your nepotism wasn't taken into account, you would be just another pawn in Al Ghuls game. Stupid and replacable." (Y/N) spoke in a knowing tone. No anger in sight, only a smirk on their face.

They have watched the bat family for years. They knew all the ways to get under their skin and prod where it hurt most.

Damian's face fell into a look of shock. (Y/N)'s words hurt in a way he had not felt since he first came to the manor. He felt the fear of being useless and replaceable. He dropped the clothes and left the room with a mortified face as (Y/N) started to laugh manically.

After Damian left the room, the Joker seemed to appear before them. As if a god. "My dear child, I am dead now, but soon I will find someone to take over. And when that is over, I will find you, and we will make the bat regret taking you away from me. My darling child." The Joker claimed. (Y/N) find with joy began shaking their head rapidly in agreement. "Of course, dad! They'll never know what hit em!" (Y/N) said and started laughing.

-----------------‐-----------------------------

In the batcave

"Their mental capacity seems to be dwindling. They've begun hallucinating. The best course of action would be to start over. I would recommend you get in contact with Martain Manhunter." Tim told Bruce after watching you on the screen. Tim had been watching you since the moment you were brought home. There was something comforting about knowing exactly where you were at all times, no matter what. "Let's wait another day. We don't know what repercussions there might be for doing this to them. If it would even work. You saw what happened with their arm. Their healing ability could stop it from even working!" Stephanie argued, not wanting to lose anymore of you. A broken you was still a masterpiece in her eyes. It showed everyone your hardships and would be used as a reminder to them about how they affected you and your life. No matter how rough you were, you and she didn't want to lose you again. "We'll wait one more day. If they continue to break down like this, we will have no other choice." Bruce stated. "But for now, we will just have to wait and see"

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

Hey guys, sorry for the wait. College has been kicking my ass and Comp has been making me not want to write anything. Hope you enjoy it! Remember, I am always looking for ways to improve.

@cooki3dough @asillysimp @kitty-from-daaaa-voidddd @redkarmakai @horror-lover-69 @bat1212 @wisefuncherryblossom @chericia @vannessa-boo @resident-cryptid @staarflower @sirenetheblogger @definitely-not-sammie @lovebug-apple

[wolfiesmoon]

Hey I hope you are doing well when ever you are reading this but how do you think the 3rd year boys from twst would react to their s/o (gn reader) cuddling with a huge plush instead of them.

Like this.

Oh boy oh boy this kinda cures my writers block tbh, i have so many drafts but none of em look enticing enough to continue writing (´д｀|||)

I took out a few of the 3rd years bc its too many people for 1 fic but i might make a part 2 where i add the missing 3rd years at some point

i went with the more silly writing style again, hope that's fine by you ○( ＾皿＾)っ

𓏲 ๋࣭  ࣪ ˖ Malleus Draconia

He doesn't exactly get why, but he feels kinda annoyed just laying next to you while you hug a big ol plushie

This doesn't feel right🫤

But then again, you look rlly happy and satisfied so he stays quiet since if you're happy, he's happy (he desperately wants to be in the plushy's place)

When you playfully kiss the plush though, that rule no longer applies. After all, his rightful spot is in your arms🫠

He nudges you. "Put the stuffed animal away."

"You sound angry." You smirk and kiss the plush again, knowing he's probably annoyed about that

without another word, he pulls the plushy out of your hands and settles down in its place

"I am a much better than that object. Just so you know." he smiled smugly, expecting a kiss on the cheek just like you gave to the plushie earlier

you kissed him on the lips instead just to see his eyes widen and his face go red ofc 😏

𓏲 ๋࣭  ࣪ ˖ Leona Kingscholar

basically, it is NOT happening

"hell no." is the only thing he says before ripping the poor plushie out of your arms and chucking it across the room

like actually how DARE you try to replace him with a plushie

"Why would you do that?" You pouted at him, looking at the now discarded plushy from the bed🤕

"You know damn well why." He huffed, laying down on top of you without warning which tends to be a habit of his

"Because that's my spot, got it?" He answered for you. clearly you forgot😒

"Uhhh, right." you answered after a short pause...

"I won't remind you next time." he sounded rlly annoyed. it's kinda funny how worked up he got over a plushy replacing him 🤭

this also means he won't let you get up for like.... atleast 2 hours to atone for your sins

moral of the story: don't do this again unless you want a ripped up plushie and a pissed off lion man😠

𓏲 ๋࣭  ࣪ ˖ Idia Shroud

"This is so unfair. Even worse than an OP boss. " he sighed dramatically, laying down besides you and pouting at the sight og a huge plushie in your arms

"pick up the sock if you have enough energy to complain." you turned away from him, still annoyed with him

being the epic gamer he is (😎💯), he discarded one of his socks in the middle of his room and didn't feel like picking it up later even after you told him to

...which ended with you refusing to cuddle with him until he does pick up the sock

after a short while of very awkward silence...

he groaned in annoyance, begrudgingly getting up and finally picking up the sock, then leaving the room to put it in the wash

you smirked victoriously, placing the plushie away as promised and letting him hug you instead

"The things you make me do, smh." he sighed, relaxing into you 😒

"Picking up a singular sock?" you teased him, hugging him back

He didn't reply so that means it's your victory 😝

𓏲 ๋࣭  ࣪ ˖ Vil Schoenheit

this is an unforgivable offense, just because you had a little disagreement earlier doesn't mean you can just replace him with a plushie😠

love transcends disagreements, after all

does not help at all that the plushie's cute round face reminds him of a certain thorn in his side named Neige LeBlanche😒

he sighs, "I may have been too harsh back there."

your only reply is an annoyed huff and you hug the plushie tighter which makes one of those anime veins pop up on his face 💢

he takes a deep breath "It was not my intention to hurt your... sensibilities." he's trying babe, he's really trying

You don't reply for a moment...

"Ugh." you throw the plushie away and hug him tightly "This doesn't mean I forgive you, just for the record."

"I still stand by my opinion too, just worded less harshly." he gently puts an arm around you, stroking your back

it was only a matter of time until you gave up with your stubborn pettiness, soon you'll forgive him too, he'll make sure of that 😌

𓏲 ๋࣭  ࣪ ˖ Lilia Vanrouge

He's actually surprisingly chill about it i feel like

He wouldn't get annoyed or be jealous per se, he'd just get a little sad it's not him you're hugging😔

he's there, you know? there's no need for a plushie...

"Am I not satisfactory enough?" He asks half playfully half seriously

"In what sense?" you totally knew what he meant but just wanted to tease him back

"Hey, isn't this supposed to be the other way around?" he smiled at you, immediately knowing what you were playing at

"Hahaha, you know me too well." you kiss his cheek, yet you still don't let go of the plushie which makes him pout

"I see you have found yourself a new lover." his eyes travel to the plushie for a moment, the betrayal is real😔🙏🏻

"You got a problem with him?" you raised a brow 🤨

"A little." he hugged you from the back, getting comfy

"Okay fine, maybe my ex is the better one after all." you let go of the plushie and turned around to hug him back 💗

[flowerfreya]

First Day

This is Part 2 of an office / cooperate AU for poly!141

Here’s Part 1 / Part 3

Pairing 141 x you

Tw: mean bf ( not 141)

The 141 leaves at the same time , and when they get down to the lobby they see that you are still down there in the cafe with a cup that is for sure empty and a large smart water on your phone. They are all shocked to see you there and and John is pissed but tries to breathe through it.

“What are you still doing here?” ,He ask.

You look up and is a little startled when you are greeted by 4 large guys looming over you. Your startled a little bit, “huh?”, you tired and you know you haven��t done anything for seven hours but your still not at home and you wish you were.

“What are you still doing here, bird?” John pushes out , he has an ideas as to why but he wants to hear from you.

“Oh , I’m waiting on my boyfriend , he gets off in 4 more hours” you say brightly , faking it until you make it.

“Do you need a ride ?”, Soap interjects, “ I get great gas mileage.”

“Oh thank you for the offer, but I’m okay”. You know how your boyfriend can get when he thinks that you are entertaining other guys , which you would never do but he doesn’t seem to realize that.

“You sure?” he questions, you want to take him up on his offer but you know you can’t so just smile and shake your head.

~

Four and half hours later you are passenger side of the car and he doesn’t even ask how your interview went just wonders what for dinner.

You roll your eyes , you don't even like cooking but its your duty since you don’t work and still need to share the responsibilities.

“Probably chicken and rice”

“Anything other than that?” , that pisses you off because one: you haven’t made chicken and rice for a two weeks and two: you don’t like cooking so he should take what’s he gets.

“If you don’t like how about you cook” you snap back.

“Don’t be such a bitch” he says casually. You know you deserve better than this but you feel stuck, you’ve been with him for 8 years, he was you first everything and while they has been many breaks within your relationship you never strayed and hopefully he hasn’t either (he has break or not).

You get home , you make dinner you don’t really want to make , have a sex with a guy you don’t really want to have sex with and go to sleep in a bed you really don’t want to sleep in.

The call comes in the morning at 8:30 am sharp , your so excited you have an issue answering the phone so it take a couple of rings beofre the sliding your thumb across the screen.

“Hello”

“Good morning , this John Price from the interview yesterday” his voice sounds so nice and low over the phone and you honestly love and it take you second to remember to say something back.

“Yes, that’s me”

“We would like to offer you a position as receptionist associate”

“Yes!”

“Woah, bird slow down, you need to hear my offer and then ask some questions”

“Oh okay sure”. So you listen to him talk and do a spiel that sounds almost robotic. He ask if you want to negotiate for the salary. No you say. Honey, you should negotiate he says. So you ask for a dollar more than offered and he says that will be fine.

“When can you start ? “ he ask

“Immediately”

“Today?”

“Ummm I guess not immediately, my boyfriend has the car today”

“I’ll call you a car” he says easily.

“Oh sure, how long do I have”

“Can you be ready in 30 minutes” . No. You cannot, but you say, “Sure”, in the most preppy voice as possible, you can feel the aniexty ramping up.

When you get off the phone it’s a mad scramble to find an outfit , which of course nothing fit rights and everything is wrinkly. You do your hair but you need a reti and your hair is fuzzy so you just leave it down. Your make up is not turning out right and you forgot to powder your makeup so now it’s going to crease. And you didn’t have breakfast but still has coffee so now your going to have to go the bathroom in 20 minutes and it’s not going to be fun.

And your sweating. A lot.

You just finished with your routine by the time you get the text from the number that called you this morning

>>the car is here for you.

You thumbs up the message, rushing out the door with your tote bag.

You slide into the backseat of the car because you think it’s a rideshare.

“What are you doing back there? Sit up here with me”. You look up and see Soap looking at your through the rear view mirror and shoot him a smile slide out of the backseat and move to the front seat.

“I didnt know this is what Mr. John meant when he said he was going to send a car”

“Mr. John,eh”

“ I just want to be respectful,” you say with a laugh.

“Hen , he will love that”

~

By the time you get to the office you are a bundle of nerves , you hate being the new girl , you also hate not being good at your job. You know what happens when you get a new job but you can still hate it. You are picking at your cuticles which is a nervous tick that you have, you follow Johnny up the office space and sit on the sofa next to the reception and wait for John to call you into his office. You do the basic onboarding task with and thankfully Kyle which you now know as “Gaz” is HR and that’s why he’s in the annex. After you are done with John you get sent back there and complete the rest of the task and that when you get shown your desk at reception.

“You can decorate it however you want”

“Really” You’ve never had a cubicle or a desk that you can decorate however you want. You're so excited to go to TJ Maxx after work and spend the money you don’t have . You sit at the desk and get started with making your system to work. Making a new voicemail message, making a new email signature and distro list. You look after answering the phone and having to assign to a rep and see a tall man with a surgery mask staring back at. You remember when you got the tour of that being Simon Riley. You give him a big smile and wave nd then point to the phone and then to you then to him and nods once, you transfer the call hopefully to Simon but then you hear Johns phone ring and you internally cringe, already knowing that you transferred the call to the wrong office.

“This is Price , what can I do for ya?” you hear and want the floor to swallow you up. You look over at Simon and his eyes widening and then is followed by his shoulders shaking and great hes laughing at you.

“Hen, a word ? “ You look up and see John in doorway, leaning against in that sexy way that guys do and you stand up from your desk with you head down and head over. You squeeze by him to get into the office and he shuts the door behind you.

“Please have seat , do you know how to- “ You quickly cut him off and start to explain how your still getting used to transferring calls and that you know Simon sits next to Soap but Soap real name is John but also called Johnny and then everyone's name is blinking an-

“Your not in trouble … did anyone teach how to use the phones?” You shake your head, and then he teaches you, like actually teaches you how to do things, and its the best first day you ever had.

~

You forgot to tell your boyfriend you had to work, and when he got home without you being there he called you. Your phone was on silent. In your purse. He has your location.

The door slam opens with the blinds bouncing on the door causing you be look and be startled. “Where the hell have you been” he demands , you know hes mad , his face is red amd his hair look like he ran his hand through it multiple times and you know for a fact the car is park half haphazardly taking up two spots.

Your used to this attitude and you make sure you stay perfectly still but not too defensive because it will make it worse but you’ve never experienced it at work. You glance over to your coworkers: John standing up in his doorway, Soap moving towards your desk, and Simon watching from his desk , he’s alert and you can’t see his hands.

“I’ve been here, they wanted me to start today”, you smile hoping to pacify him. You start to get stuff ready already knowing that you are about to leave just so he won’t embarrass you anymore. “I’m sorry it was all so sudden, you know”, ending in a nervous laughter.

“I’m not fucking laughing”, he says your name with so much force , you lean back as if that will get you away from him.

“I know” , you say softly, moving around the desk and putting your jacket on.

You look around and thank them for such a good first day.

“You okay ?”, John ask you with a tilt of his head trying to look you in the eye.

“She fine”, your boyfriend answered for you. You know you have tears in your eyes and if you were lighter you would be flustered but all there is to show for it is sweaty armpits. You nod you head and smile at him.

“I will see you guys tomorrow , have a nice rest of your day” , just as your boyfriend grabs you by the arm and drags you out of there.

~

John glances at Soap and then Simon and nods his head towards annex. They need to have a little chat about the receptionist and her little boyfriend.

[lovegoodlane]

Pursuing the Prefect- 3

3.7k words

Warnings: mentions of sex, teasing, oral sex [female receiving], fingering

Summary: Fred and his prefect continue to grow closer, but their relationship grows tense when he suggests a public date (soft Fred, dom (ish) Fred)

Author's note: Here's another part! I'm trying to build up a storyline in case y'all want this short fic to continue. Enjoy <3

Link to part 1, part 2

----

Another week at Hogwarts had passed. You had spent a bit of time with Fred, sneaking kisses in empty classrooms and even spending Saturday night curled up on a blanket at the quidditch pitch. It was nothing official yet, but you were enjoying getting to know him.

It was already Thursday. The weeks were passing by in a blur. As a Sixth Year, you were focused on studying as much as you could before taking the entrance exams for an Upper School program in potions. It was difficult to get in, so you spent much of your free time cramming as much information into your brain as possible.

You walked to dinner with Cho and Beatrice, chatting about the Winter Ball coming up next month. Beatrice had been talking your ear off about Oliver Wood for the past week, and she was hoping that he would ask her to be his date.

"He's so dreamy," Beatrice swooned. "If he doesn't ask me to be his date, I might use a curse on him."

"Do you talk about anything other than Wood?" Cho snapped, clearly annoyed.

Cho's relationship with Cedric Diggory had been on the rocks. She had a bit of a jealous streak, and watching other girls fawn over Cedric got on her nerves. They'd been arguing about it nonstop for the past month.

"Cho, leave her alone," you said defensively. "She's allowed to be chuffed about Wood. You were the same with Diggory. I get that you're brassed off, but that's not Bea's fault."

Cho glared at you, huffing. She knew you were right. "Who are you going with? Seems like Adrian is your only option," she said, veering the conversation topic away from herself.

"I'm definitely not going with Adrian," you said empathically. "I don't need to have a date, I'm not worried about it."

"Maybe Fred will ask you," Beatrice teased, nudging you. "He seems pretty fond of you."

"I'd rather go to the ball with a toad than Fred Weasley," Cho asserted.

"Godric Cho, pull the stick out of your arse, will you?" you said, clearly irritated with her. 

You still hadn't filled Cho in about your situation with Fred. The only thing she would do is make snarky remarks and tell you that it's a bad idea. She was too worried about her squeaky clean reputation to see any value in associating with the Weasley twins. It pissed you off.

"I think I'm actually going to skip out on dinner, I'll grab something from the kitchen elves later. I want to get a start on my Potions assignment," you said as you had reached the Great Hall.

It was just an excuse to not have to sit through dinner with Cho. You could barely stand her recently, and taking some space felt like a good decision. 

Beatrice squeezed your hand in a goodbye, and Cho only shrugged and rolled her eyes. You turned to head for the library, wanting some peace and quiet after dealing with Cho's attitude.

You were only paces from the library when you ran in to the Weasley twins. 

"Hey birdie," Fred greeted you. "Heading back into your abyss?"

"My abyss?" you questioned.

"The library," he said matter-of-factly. "They should give you a cot so you can sleep there, would save you a trip to your dormitory."

"Have you two even seen the inside of the library? Or do your pranks occupy too much of your time?" you asked, crossing your arms and jutting out a hip. You raised your eyebrows at them expectantly.

George chuckled, enjoying the attitude that you were hurling at his brother. Very few people had the guts to stand up to Fred.

"You can show me if you'd like," Fred retorted, stepping closer to you. "Though I can't promise that I'll be much interested in doing homework, if you know what I mean."

You bit the inside of your cheek. These flirty showdowns were routine between you two, but somehow it was more embarrassing when someone was watching. Like George. But that didn't mean that you were going to let Fred win.

"I would be willing to tutor you again, Merlin knows that your grades need it," you said, closing the space between you and Fred. You reached for his tie, playing with the end. "It'll cost you, though."

George cleared his throat, an attempt at reminding you two that he was still there. It didn't matter though, both of you were locked in to this battle.

"Name a price, darling," Fred muttered, his hands ghosting underneath your robes and finding a place on your hips. 

You looked up at him, trying to soften your gaze to appear innocent. You were going to put the nail into his coffin.

You stood on your toes so you could whisper in his ear. "I keep having a dream where you bend me over a desk in Potions class. That sounds like a sufficient payment to me."

You nipped at his ear before pulling away, grinning at him sweetly as if you hadn't just whispered something filthy in his ear. Fred stared at you, a slight blush in his cheeks in response to your words. He still wasn't used to your boldness.

"Are you two going to shag in the hallway or what?" George piped up, causing his twin to turn around and give him a slap to the chest. 

"We were on our way to dinner. And I am still very hungry, in case you have forgotten," George said, directing his last sentence at Fred. It was a not so subtle reminder for him to keep things moving. 

"Did you have dinner already?" Fred asked after giving George a glare.

"No," you responded. "I was going to get something from the kitchen elves later."

"Then why don't we do that," Fred proposed. "George, you can go on to dinner. I'm sure you won't miss me."

George shrugged and offered you a wave before he headed off in the direction of the Great Hall. You hadn't been intending to spend your evening with Fred, but you could think of worse things you could be doing instead. Like sitting through dinner with Cho.

"The kitchen elves love me," Fred said sarcastically. "You'll have to do your prefect sweet talking to get them to hand over the goods."

——

After getting some sustenance from the kitchen elves, you and Fred ended up back in his dormitory. He wanted to show you the music player that Hermione had gotten him for his birthday last year. It was Muggle technology, and he found it incredibly fascinating.

"What is it called again?" you asked as you settled onto his bed. You propped yourself up with a pillow, waiting for him to work the music player.

"I think Hermione called it a record player," he replied, fiddling with the machine. "You have to put these records on it to make it play music."

He held up a few of the records in his collection. To you, they just looked like big black discs. 

Fred finally settled on a record and put it on the machine, adjusting the volume. It was something you had never heard before.

"This is from a band called Mother Mother," Fred explained. "Hermione says that they're pretty edgy."

He finally joined you on the bed, leaning up on the wall behind him. You both sat there listening to the music for a bit, content without conversation.

"I've been wondering..." Fred started, looking over at you.

"Oh no," you teased. You jokingly put your head in your hands.

"I haven't even said it yet, you git," Fred replied, pulling your hands from your face. You grinned at him, and he grinned back.

"I wanted to know how you started dating Pucey in the first place," he said.

You breathed out. You knew that Fred was curious about your relationship with Adrian. Everyone at Hogwarts knew that you were dating last year, and it took most people by surprise when they found out that you had broken up.

"Adrian's dad is my dad's boss," you answered. "We've gone on holiday together every year since we were kids. The summer before 5th year, he suddenly fancied me. That's pretty much it, I guess."

"That's it?" Fred questioned. "You didn't put him through trial after trial like you're doing to me?"

He flicked at your thigh, emphasizing his teasing. 

"Adrian was different. I was younger then, less experienced. And no one had been interested in me before," you said. 

"There's no way that can be true," Fred said, adjusting his position on the bed. "You've always been pretty. I'm sure lots of blokes have fancied you."

"If they did, none of them told me," you replied, letting out a dry chuckle. This topic was a bit of a sore spot for you. You had always felt like you weren't pretty enough, as you hadn't drawn the attention of the boys like some of the other girls at Hogwarts. But this insecurity subsided a bit as you got older. Who needed attention from a boy when you could have good grades?

You and Fred sat in silence for a moment. He seemed to be thinking about what to say next. 

"Of all of the blokes at Hogwarts, you chose a Slytherin?" Fred asked, half joking and half serious.

You slapped at him. "I don't care what House someone is in. I dated Adrian because he fancied me, and I was tired of all of my friends having boyfriends. Adrian is smart, and he's good looking. And whether you like to admit it or not, he's cracking at quidditch."

"Cracking is a bit of an overstatement," Fred replied. "Did you even fancy Pucey then?"

You shrugged. "I liked the companionship. We had always been friends. It wasn't difficult to turn it into something more. And I wanted to keep up with everyone else at Hogwarts who was snogging and shagging anyone they could get their hands on. Adrian felt like a safe option."

"So it sounds like you never really liked him," Fred said, leaning his head on your shoulder.

"I liked him, but I didn't love him," you answered. "He really loved me. And I still feel bad about that. But I just....my heart wasn't in it."

"Is that why you broke up?" he asked.

"Part of it. He wanted things to get more serious. Slytherin pureblood families are really intense about dating and marriage, and he wanted to consider next steps. I wasn't ready, and I wanted to focus on academics," you said. "I didn't want to break his heart. And I know that he still really cares about me, but I'm not cut out for a life like that."

"What, you mean that you don't want to be the next Narcissa Malfoy? I can't imagine why not," Fred teased, poking at your side. 

"Shut it," you replied, slapping at his hand. "I'm not made to be a pureblood trophy wife who pops out perfect pureblood babies. I want a career."

"That makes sense," Fred said. "You've got enough brains to do anything. So what would you want to do?"

"I want to go to Upper School for Potions," you said. Every time you talked about it, it sounded far away and impossible. "I don't know where I'll go from there. I could make potions for hospitals. Or maybe I'll teach, I'm not sure."

"You'll be cracking at teaching," Fred said, a smile stretching across his face. "My marks in Potions were way better when you tutored me."

A slower song started to play from the record player, and Fred popped up onto his feet. He extended a hand toward you.

"Dance with me?" he asked, giving you a wink.

You tried to fight the smile that started to spread across your lips, but it was too late. You accepted his hand, wiggling off the bed and joining him.

He guided you to the center of his dormitory, placing one of your hands on his shoulder and holding the other. His hand found its way down to your waist.

You began swaying together to the music. It was a bit awkward and clumsy at first, but after a bit, it felt romantic.

"Do you have a date to the Winter Ball yet?" Fred asked.

"Wouldn't you like to know," you teased him, squinting your eyes and scrunching your nose.

"I would actually, because I'd like you to be my date," he said.

"I'll have to think about it," you replied, unwilling to give him the satisfaction of an easy "yes".

"What, do you need a grand gesture?" he asked, squeezing your hip. A lopsided grin was on his lips. 

"The only thing I need is time to think about it," you replied, cocking your head slightly at him.

You leaned your head onto his chest, finally closing the small gap between the two of you. You stayed like this for at least one whole song.

"Birdie?" Fred said, a question clearly on the horizon.

"Yes, Fred?" you replied, your cheek still pressed against his chest.

"We don't have to talk about it if you're not ready, but it's something to consider," he started.

"You're making me nervous," you said, pulling back so you could look up at him.

"No, it's nothing to be nervous about," he soothed. "I wanted to talk about next steps. Y'know, what you're comfortable with and what you're not."

"What do you mean?" you asked.

"Well....we seem to have a comfort level. We snog, mess around a bit. But I wanted to see how you feel about anything more," he said. "And I don't want this to feel like I'm pressuring you, I want to know so I don't overstep."

You could feel your cheeks heating up. Talking about sex in any context made you feel a bit flustered. At least Fred was being polite about it.

"Uhm...well...I'm not sure," you answered. "It feels like a big step."

"I know, birdie," Fred said, his hand moving to your back to rub soothing circles. "There's no rush. I want us to be able to talk about these things if we're going to keep seeing each other."

"Right..." you said, still feeling a bit sheepish. "I just...Adrian and I had sex, but that was only after he said that he loved me. I'm not sure that I'm made for casual hookups like some other people are."

"And that's absolutely okay," Fred replied. "I don't need to shag to know how much I like you."

You looked up at Fred. He was staring at you with those soft eyes again. His patience and willingness to communicate only made him more attractive to you. 

You put your hands on either side of his face, standing on your toes to kiss him. His hands found your waist, pulling you in as close as possible.

Your kisses were sweet, and it felt like Fred was reassuring you that he didn't just see you as a shag. His feelings were genuine and his intentions were pure. Well....pure might not be the best word, but his intentions were good.

Your hands found their way down to his shirt collar, and you tugged at it. You pulled him back towards his bed, pushing him back onto it. You straddled him like you had the very first time you were in his dormitory. 

He kept kissing you, his hands wandering up your thighs. Everywhere he touched felt like an electric shock, and you were dying for more. 

"Freddie?" you said, interrupting your make out session.

"Yes?" he replied, a tad breathless. 

"I need you to eat me out," you commanded, looking him dead in the eye.

Fred smirked. "Your wish is my command, birdie."

He flipped you on your back, propping your head up on his pillows. He resumed kissing you, biting at your lower lip while his hands gripped at your thighs.

Fred worked his way down, undoing your tie and unbuttoning your shirt in what felt like seconds. Your cheeks flushed as he took in your light pink bra. You hadn't considered that Fred would see you bra when you put it on this morning, otherwise you would have chosen something different. 

"Pink? I love it," Fred commented with a smirk. He kissed along your collarbones and down to your chest, leaving a love bite between your boobs. 

He made his way down to the top of your skirt. "I think the skirt is going to stay on this time."

His words were enough to make you want to clench your thighs together. He could feel your body tensing in desperation, so he graciously positioned himself between your legs.

Fred kissed along your thighs all the way down to your knickers. His fingers played at the waistband.

"You still want this?" he asked.

"Please Freddie," you whined.

He pulled your panties down your legs, tossing them onto the floor next to the bed. He worked your skirt up just a bit so he could see what he was doing.

Fred's tongue darted out, teasing you. You almost yelped, gripping onto the sheets to try to keep it together. You were so desperate for him that it felt embarrassing. 

His tongue worked around your clit, purposefully avoiding where you wanted him most. He loved the whimpers that were coming out of your mouth. He knew exactly how desperate you were. 

Fred squeezed your thigh with one hand and brought the other to your clit, rubbing circles with his thumb. His tongue worked its way down to your entrance, and your back arched off of the bed in response.

"You like that, darling?" he asked, pausing for a moment.

You only nodded in response, unable to get any words to come out. Fred resumed, his thumb playing with your clit and his mouth teasing your entrance. 

He pulled his mouth off of you, dragging a long pointer finger down to your entrance. 

"Is this okay?" he asked before going any further.

"Yes. Please," you answered, burning for his touch.

Fred's finger teased along your entrance before finally pushing it into you, a whine escaping your mouth. He worked it in and out slowly, kissing your thighs and leaving love bites.

"More please," you begged, feeling a knot tighten in your stomach.

Fred obliged, plunging another long finger into you. He picked up the pace, and you were rocking back and forth to meet his fingers. 

A number of profanities fell from your lips as you chased your release. Fred was admiring the sight in front of him, relishing in finally having his fingers inside of you.

"Such a good girl for me," Fred murmured. "So gorgeous like this."

You moaned in response, so close to your release. Fred's fingers had found the trigger spot inside of you, and he pounded against it again and again. 

You finally finished, your back arching off of the bed. Fred slowed his fingers, working you down from your high. He kissed the inside of your thigh.

"Fuck, you're perfect," Fred commented, admiring your form as you tried to catch your breath. 

He kissed a trail down your thigh, nipping at your hip bones. He left another love bite just above your hip bone. He loved marking you up, and secretly, you loved it too. His marks were nothing that you couldn't conceal with a glamor charm when needed.

Fred returned to your center, licking a stripe from your entrance up to your clit. You groaned at the overstimulation.

"Think you have another one in you?" Fred asked, massaging your thighs with his hands.

"You're going to be the death of me," you replied, ruffling his hair with your hand.

"That sounds like a yes to me," he smirked, placing one more kiss on your thigh before returning his attention to your clit.

He alternated between sucking on it and playing with it with his tongue, driving you absolutely mad. Your nails dug into his scalp, urging him for more.

"Fuck Freddie," you whined. 

You pulled at his hair, causing him to groan into you. Your hips started to buck up to meet his mouth, trembling at how sensitive you were after your first orgasm.

Fred was determined to make you finish again. One of his hands wandered up to your chest, sneaking under your bra. He pinched and played with your nipple, forcing moans and whimpers out of your mouth. 

"Freddie...so close," you breathed out, struggling to form words. 

Ten more seconds was all you needed to find your second release, trembling and whimpering as you finished. You panted in disbelief at the boy who was able to get you to finish twice. You had a hard enough time finishing once.

Fred kissed along your stomach, working his way back up to your mouth. He finally kissed you on the lips, and you gripped at his hair to pull him even closer.

He pulled back, grinning at you. "Good?" he asked. 

"Don't even," you slapped at his shoulder, giggling at him. 

His head came down to rest on your chest. You ran your fingers through his hair, placing a kiss on the top of his head. 

"I want to take you out on a date," he stated, nuzzling further into the crook of your neck.

"Where?" you asked, still playing with his hair.

"There's a Hogsmeade trip this weekend, how about then?" he said, picking up his head to look at you.

"I'll have to think about it," you replied.

"You are going, right?" he asked, sounding almost confused.

"Yes," you answered. Not a single Hogwarts student would want to miss out on a trip to Hogsmeade. Not even you. 

"Then why not?" he asked, pushing the issue.

You readjusted so you could sit up. Fred sat up too, putting his back against the wall behind his bed. 

"I haven't told all of my friends about you yet," you admitted. "Spending time together at Hogsmeade would make us look like...well, a couple."

"And you have a problem with that?" he pressed on, sounding a bit hurt. 

"No, well....I just like how things are now. It's private. It's just you and I without other people getting into our business," you said with a shrug. 

"So you don't want people to know that you've been seeing me," he stated, turning his head so he wouldn't have to look at you.

"No, Fred," you replied, reaching for his hand. He pulled it away. "I'm just not sure that I'm ready for something so public after Adrian. I need a bit more time."

"You're willing to sneak around and hook up in my dormitory but you can't be seen with me at Hogsmeade?" he said, now very clearly upset. 

"Fred...." you trailed off, trying to find something to say. You agreed, it did sound that way. But you just weren't quite ready for a public commitment. The whole school would be buzzing, and you liked to remain out of the spotlight when it came to gossip. 

"Please, just go," Fred said, still refusing to look at you. You sat there frozen for a minute, absorbing his words. You quickly dressed yourself, pulling your robes on and grabbing your back pack.

You headed for the door, turning over your shoulder before you left. "I'm sorry, Fred," was all you could say before turning the knob and walking out.

----

Next part

[huellitaa]

girl's guide to academic success: ep 1! ⊹˚. ♡

──★ ˙ ̟🎀 this post focuses on: actively rooting for success! ♡ part 2 -> ♡

🧸𓂃 ࣪˖ 1. organisation

first off, have something to organise ur academic life with! i personally use notion (which i'll add later) but u can use anything as long as it's cute, convenient, unique and accessible to you, your life and your schedule specifically. especially as a visual learner, i like to have somewhere i can dump literally everything regarding a singular area in my life, so i do this for almost everything along with school and i highly recommend this <3

🧸𓂃 ࣪˖ 2. recognition of talents & improvements

analyse your strengths and weaknesses. think back on tests, exams, marks, and analyse which ones you got highest and lowest on. dont beat urself up for it, obviously; it's just to check which subjects you're doing good in and which ones have room for improvement. for example i love science but im not the best at it sometimes and we had an assessment recently and i didn't get as high as i'd like so i wrote down a little list on a piece of paper in my pencilcase for the topics i got the least in for me to study on my own to practise later.

🧸𓂃 ࣪˖ 3. laying out goals

set down specific goals; i like to do this week by week accustomed to my schedule that week in my school notion page along with images and vision boards based on the term/semester, but you can do it for the week, the month, the year, anything as long as its helpful to you

🧸𓂃 ࣪˖ 4. productive planning

plan accordingly based on ur time energy. when creating any to do list or productivity plan dont pile a ridiculous amount onto it that just leaves you stressed and overwhelmed because that defeats the entire point; this works the same for academic plans and goals and lists etc.

🧸𓂃 ࣪˖ 5. extra credit

put extra work in to the subjects you know will help you in the future. for example, for my personal aspirations i need to excel in english, history and textiles so i always try my absolute hardest and put my all into those lessons and do extra studying for them in my free time where i can. school is to prepare you for the future so take advantage of that

🧸𓂃 ࣪˖ 6. asking questions

please don't be shy to ask questions! that's what teachers are there for and you won't have them forever so take advantage of it while you can! you can even do it in that little window of time just after class if ur too nervous to ask in class. for example, on my last english exam i went to my teacher after class and asked about what i needed to improve on to get the marks i missed next time, and he told me i added too much detail and some other things so i wrote it down and am keeping a note of it to remind me to improve on that next time! (i got top of my class though so i didnt mind. still kind of pissed i added too much detail though)

🧸𓂃 ࣪˖ 7. participation

participate! ok im saying this as someone who still struggles with social anxiety a fair amount but if u wanna get higher marks and get on good terms w ur teacher i 100% recommend this. i don't do this in every class but i do it where i can and when i'm confident in my answer, and it's really intimidating at first but what i did is i did it first in the classes i felt most comfortable on and continued from there. it gets easier every time i swear, and nobody's judging you; they'll forget about it after five minutes. plus, what would they be judging you for? being smarter than them?

🧸𓂃 ࣪˖ 8. prioritising ur health

this is mentioned a lot in these types of posts but if you're tired or burnt out or overworked or just feel like you need to take a break then do. do the best you can and compromise like i said earlier if you need to, just make sure u are prioritising yourself over anything. <3

──★ ˙ ̟🎀inspo

──★ ˙ ̟🎀my notion

i also really recommend this layout by @honeytonedhottie ♡

all my love 🩷✨💬🎀💗

[moonriseoverkyoto]

Ghosts in the family

Synopsis - aka all the times The Riley siblings have talked about eachother, and all the times Soap should’ve connected the dots but didn’t see the constellation.

cw/tags - MDNI 18+ making out, grinding, no piv or smut guys sorry, swearing, mentions of female anatomy, military inaccuracies, fanon versions of cod characters, threats, mild violence, mentions of guns, innuendos, etc. you’re dealing with grown men in the military that is your warning

Pairing - Johnny “Soap” MacTavish x Afab!Riley!Reader, John Price x Riley!Reader (Platonic)

Author's note - Soap is about 26, Reader is 24, Tommy is the name of Simon’s canon younger brother who later scares him with masks and anyways, just beware of that background. Pt.2 of this au, just this just shits and giggles background for later bc I dont know how to flesh out that cliffhanger I left in my Drabble, see you at the bottom! - Moon

Requests are open!

© moonriseoverkyoto 2023. please do not steal, copy, plagiarize, translate, or repost any of my works without my permission. do not steal any elements of my theme without permission.

1. Simon knew that Johnny’s intention wasn’t to piss him off, but yet he still managed to feel a migraine pool behind his eyes. All day, every mission just asking question after question. Simon wondered if this is what it was like to have a stable home. All he had was you from day one his baby sister. His lips jerk upward before he cuts off the muscle reflex of what we know as a smile. He’d rather keel over and die than let Johnny see his eyes krinkle.

“I have a sister.” He grumbles. Everyone in the truck goes silent. Johnny’s jokes stop, Gaz smirks to himself, even Price manages to watch through the rearview mirror.

“Really? And you waited so long to tell me. Oh my god what’s the like. Oh is she pretty- wait don’t answer that, that’s weird if you agree…” Simon sighs to himself as he tunes out Johnny again. Oh he wishes holiday would come faster.

2. Holiday was tough. Even worse was being stuck alone over holiday break because your only family was stuck in an operation. Especially since you just got the news after putting up Christmas decoration.

“Really Simon? I got football on the telly, your presents are all wrapped” you whined. Simon grinned under his balaclava, oh how he wished he could be there to receive your annual gag gift.

“I know I know I know, assignment came late and everyone else has families to go home to so I just suggested myself-“ he tried to calm you down knowing this would only add gasoline.

“Dammit Si, I’m your family too! Im gonna give you a new buzz cut when you get home at the rate you’re going with all these sudden plans.” Your voice cracked at his name, you know he didn’t mean to break your heart. But Simon couldn’t bare to see Johnny, Price, or Gaz not go home to their big happy families.

“Yeah I know. Im yer brother. No getting out of that one.” He said. “Why don’t you stay with Price again this year. You know he loves you around”

“Because he is the only friend of yours that I’ve met-“

“Yeah you’ll meet the guys someday. promise.”

“Maybe for this holiday present?”

“Maybe.“

“yeah yeah yeah. I love you Si”

“Love you too, and I hope that second date of yours goes well this Friday” oh if only he knew how well that date went with your mysterious Scottish man.

3. “I thought you said you don’t kiss on the second date” Johnny grinned into your lips. Your hands all in his hair.

“Only if they don’t show promise” you remarked back. You could feel his bulge grinding through your pants in the back of this telephone booth. A soft groan leaving his lips as Johnny responded

“Oh so I show promise.” You could practically hear the grin as his lips trailed down your jaw and neck, the slight friction of his scruff following as he moved aside your dogtags.

“Yeah promise that if you don’t hush up, you won’t be getting anything” you quipped back as equally as smug

“Thought you were gonna call that brother of yers” he slurred back as he smelled your perfume. The man practically drooling as your nails trailed down his neck scratching. If he had a tail it’d be whipping the air. A whimper passing through the air as his bulge caught the right part of your fabric rubbing your clit in a delightful direction

“he can wait, I have something else to call for now” you said as you opened the door of the telephone booth and whistled (or yelled if you can’t) as loud as you could do to call a taxi. Johnny had a light in his eye that he never thought would spark until he met you.

Soon you would find out later that Simon actually COULD wait and he did, 12 whole hours he stayed up staring at your apartment door to be let in - fresh on holiday too. Maybe being motormouth’d by Johnny into the window of a hummer didn’t sound so bad now

4. Simon kept a photo of you and him in his pocket everywhere that you went. I mean everywhere. No matter the place. And a lighter too incase he was captured by enemies so as to not compromise his location. But it was a photo from a holiday in France. You were both pillow fighting in the bed. Messy hair, toothless grins, back when Mummy was alive and Daddy hadn’t shown his true colors. Tommy took that picture,. Simon holds it to remind him what he’s fighting for.

“Oh is that yer little sister, she’s missin a few teeth there” Johnny grins looking over the sniper’s shoulder.

“You’re about to miss some bones if you ask about my sister again” Simon growls. fuck. Johnny is the last person he needs around his sister. It’s not like Johnny was a womanizer - he was the opposite. Johnny was perfection. He was from a happy home, a stable home, a place where you wouldn’t have to remember what happened at that old house. It scared Simon to death imagining you forgetting about him. Then he’d really be alone.

“She must’ve gotten the good genes.” Gaz pipes into the coms, what an instigator.

“Wonder what she looks like in jeans” Soap hummed as he cleaned out his gun.

Ghost hummed to himself as he secretly folded up the photo and put it right back in the pocket over his heart. Maybe you could wait another year before meeting them.

Authors note - I made a part 2, this is unedited. Im so tired. I will flesh more of this out before I take another break I promise!! Xoxo - Moon

[lookingformoondrop]

+ Yandere Andy (for my previous request for suggestive themes with a fem reader and him :33)

Yandere!Andrew Graves x f!reader - Drabble thing

TW: TOXIC ANDY, Yandere themes, obsession, possession, manipulative Andy, suggestive themes, foul language, Andy can't keep his hands to himself, threats & intimidation, Andy calls Reader dumb bunny, not proofread.

♥︎Notes: I think out of all the yandere content ive ever written, this is the most toxic. Please readers, if your irl relationship mirrors any of this behavior, LEAVE THEM. Andy is extremely toxic, and if given the chancs hed lock up his bunny for only him to see. I dont condon any of this behavior, but i support Andrew's rights and wrongs. Hope this meets your expectations <3.♥︎

When dating Andy, there are certain types of rules you must follow.

They're silent rules, sure, never spoken outloud, but you've been with Andy long enough to know that if you break them... there are consequences.

♡

Rule No. 1 : Never dare speak to another man

You can still remember this rule vividly.

It was sometime in April, and you had practically begged Andy to drive you to the mall for new spring dresses.

When he finally agreed, you both drove to the mall and walked around for an hour, just window shopping all the sweet spring deals.

You found a lovely dress and went to try it on. Unfortunately, you realized the size was too small, so you asked Andy to browse the store for something bigger.

This is when the incident happened...

When you finally finished changing, you walked out of the clothing booth with a couple of other items and one adorable shirt that lacked a price.

You searched for a store employee and spotted a young man.

"Excuse me, but is there any way you can find the price of this shirt? I can't seem to find it," you handed the shirt to the employee, and his cheeks turned a dusted pink

"W- Well sure. I can just ask my co-worker to-"

"Fuck off."

You jumped at the cold voice beside you and noticed a very pissed off Andrew. His hand was suddenly on your hip, squeezing your flesh very aggressively.

"I- I'm sorry, sir, but I was talking to this young lady, not you," the young worker looked nervous.

But Andrew was having none of it, "fuck off before I forcibly make you." His eyes narrowed on the man, as he pushed you against his chest.

The employee retreated for the employee back door, his tail practically in between his legs, leaving you absolutely dumbfounded.

You pushed at Andy's chest, "Andrew what the fuck?! He wasn't doing anything wrong, he was literally just helping me find the price tag for some-"

"Do you like pissing me off? I disappeared for not even 5 minutes, and you're letting men drool over you? "

His grip on your hip got tighter, assuring that it would leave a mark for later.

At a loss of words, Andrew leaned in and whispered into your ear,

"You're making me sad, Y/N... Do you honestly want another man?"

His voice sent shivers down your spine, making that spot between your legs ache, and that chilling feel graze your skin with goosebumps.

"Andrew, I don't want anyone else! Please don't be sad, I'm sorry for misleading you," Your eyes got glossy from the guilt that weighed down on you.

He sighed, disappointed. He gripped your wrist, using the hand that was on your hip to rip the clothes you had out of your hand and onto a random display table.

"You're not a very good girlfriend. But I love you anyway."

He walked towards the exit, caressing your hand while he did.

You quickly leaned that Andrew was not going to tolerate any sort of social interaction with other men, and if you broke this rule, he'd be very, very disappointed in you. Simple as that.

♡

Rule No. 2 : Where you're going, what you're doing, who you're with, and why is all of Andy's business.

A year into your relationship, you decided to take a spontaneous girls trip with your friends to a different state.

You'd only be gone for a couple of days, and since Andrew was always busy working, you figured that he wouldn't mind.

Thinking this, you texted Andrew.

Andy

I'm sorry I haven't texted you. How was your day? **

You

It was good! I'm actually packing right now for a trip. **

Andy

.... **

Andy

What trip? **

You

A girls' trip. I figured since you're busy all the time, I could take this weekend to vacation! **

Andy

.... Where will you be going? **

You

My friends cabin**

Andy

Who will you be going with?**

You

My friends? **

Andy

Whose Cabin? Which friends? Whats their number? How can I contact them? How many nights are you staying? What's the wi-fi situation like? How far away, is it? What's the exact location? Who knows about this trip? When will you be coming back? Will there be any men there? Is it just girls? Will you be changing in front of them? Will you be sleeping separately? Whose car are you taking? How will you get there? By what transportation? Do your friends have boyfriends? Are there any wild animals?**

You

I... Andrew, how could I answer all these questions? I dont... I dont know.**

Andy

Then you shouldn't be going. **

Andy

It's in a location I've never been to nor seen before. So many things can happen to you, my dummy bunny. It may be a cabin, but I know you can't handle being alone for so long. Save me the trouble, Y/N, you're not going. **

Andy

I'm only looking out for you. You're the love of my life. How could i possibly live with myself if something happened to you? Y/N, you're the air that I breathe, the food i consume, the blood i need to pump my heart. Are you trying to run away from me? **

You

No! Andy I swear I'm not! I won't go if it makes you uncomfortable. I just thought... **

Andy

You don't think many things through, dummy. You're such a headache sometimes. **

Andy

So, what's for dinner? I'm hungry. *

♡

Rule No. 3 : You belong to Andy, and only Andy.

"Hey Andy! Guess what I found?!" You walked up to Andy who was lounging on the coach watching some shitty news.

"What's that, Y/N?" He lazily turned his head towards you.

In your hand was an old photograph of you and an old prom date, taken long before you ever met Andrew.

You were cleaning your bedroom and found a couple of old boxes underneath your bed. Once of which, held many old memories of your youth.

"It's all the prom pictures my mom took of me! Don't I look cute?" You leaned your upper body over the coach back and showed Andy the dusty photos.

You expected a snort, a grin, maybe some mockery for your cheesy dress but instead Andrew tensed up his jaw, his eyes narrowing.

He grabbed the photos from your hand and slowly looked through them.

"You are very pretty, Y/N...." his hand squeezed the photos, to the point of crinkling them.

"Andrew, the photos are being!-"

Suddenly Andrew stood up and quickly crossed the distance between you two, letting the photos be dropped to the floor.

You gasped as Andrew smashed his lips against yours.

He grabbed onto your face, pressing his body into yours.

His lips were warm and slightly chapped, the brief smell of mint and cigarettes overpowering your head.

He broke the kiss, a strange hunger dancing in his eyes as he looked at you.

"You're so beautiful... You're so beautiful being mine, and mine alone. Mine, mine, mine, and mine, until the world comes crashing and burning. " He grinned at you, a dark shadow crossing his face.

"Andrew! I- I know im yours, but the photos are being stepped on-" You tried protesting, but instead, you felt Andrew kiss you again, this time going deeper. His hand squeezed your cheeks, attempting to make your jaw open, in a way asking for entrance.

You couldn't help but open your mouth wider, a victim to the rose colored glasses he always placed on you.

Your eyes closed, while Andrews' opened.

He stared at you with a strange intensity.

You, of course, could never hear his thoughts, but if his words were spoken outloud he would scream how much he wanted to rip that prom date to shreds.

Watch him bleed out of your hardwood floors until it stained from that fuckers punishment.

You belonged to HIM.

You were HIS.

And darling, he would go to heaven and drag you back to hell with him if he had to.

He broke the kiss and squeezed you into a hug,

"Promise you wont ever leave me, okay?" Andrew rested his head on your shoulder. You breathed heavily, wiping the saliva from your chin.

You nodded in a daze, the ache between your legs overpowering any kind of hesitancy you had.

Andrew smiled into your neck, reaching his hands under your ass to prop you up around his waist.

"Come on... I want to continue this in the bedroom. I want to see more of you..." He said in just above a whisper.

"Only you..."

Thank you for the ask (and patience)!<3

[evie-sturns]

ꜱᴜᴍᴍᴇʀ ᴄᴀᴍᴘ - ᴍᴀᴛᴛ ꜱᴛᴜʀɴɪᴏʟᴏ

part 2 (part 1 here)

summary: you and your best-friend matt, have decided to sign up to be a summer camp counsellor for your school's summer project! will you two stay as just friends? or will this summer turn out different for you guys.

a/n: theres going to be smut in the next part, hope you guys like this, read part 1 first, linked at the top! fuck danielle

contains: swearing, fighting (physical at some points), kissing/making out

—------------╚══ ❀•°❀°•❀ ══╝------------——

abrubtly matt pulls away, he saw me. his face drops as dani stares at me. my heart thumps as i freeze. matt tries to walk over to me, but its too late, i've already took off in the other direction.

i've found myself in the empty staff bathrooms, hiding in the stalls. matthew wasted my time, i spent half the fucking roadtrip up here comforting him, then he goes and makes out with her a few hours later?

i can't even understand why im feeling like this, why am i so.. jealous?

the door to the bathrooms swing open, probably matt, coming to explain himself.

"hey, come out of the stall please." a female voice calls out, "who's this sorry?" i say, still on the verge of tears.

"danielle."

my breath hitches in my throat, before i swallow hard. "oh." i mumble, unlocking my stall. im met with her face, shes still wearing the same outfit she was wearing while kissing my best friend.

she suddenly interupts my thoughts, "look, i don't know who the fuck you think you are? but don't go snooping into me and matts personal business, unfortunately hes mine." she says while crossing her arms, i scoff.

"funny you say that, because the whole car ride up here matt's been dreading seeing you, his exact words were, 'fucking hate her' so if i were you i'd back away hm?" i say in a 'sympathetic' tone.

she clenches her fist, running her spare hand through her dark brown bob before smashing her fist into the side of my face.

"what the actual fuck!" i yell before jumping at her, throwing her to the floor. the next 5 minutes are a blur of screaming, punching, hair pulling before she gets pulled off of me.

its jessie, the owner of the fucking camp.

she looks pissed.

(15 minutes later)

ive been sitting alone in the nurses office for 10 minutes, its now 11:30pm, i have to be awake in 7 hours for breakfast setup.

the door to the room im in swings open.

its matthew.

"y/n, are you okay? i heard what happened" he says frantically, sititng down on the chair beside the medical bed.

"oh please matt, dont act like you care." i mutter out.

"what?" he says cluelessly.

"look, go find out how danielles doing, oh! or you could fuck her while your there, go back to your cabin with her!" i yell, matts eyes widen as he looks at me.

"we aren't sharing a cabin, im with lincoln, shes with paige." he mumbles as he fidgets with his hands.

i laugh out of disbelief before standing up, pushing past him out of the room im in before swinging open the door to the nurses office.

the cold night air hits my fresh wounds as i approach my cabin, the lights are on inside meaning Xavier is still awake. i swing open the door, xaviers face drops "babe what the fuck happened!" he says, running up to me and hugging me, "danielle happened." i sniff as he lets me go.

"you gotta get some rest, we're helping the kids do kayaking tomorrow okay? gotta be up at 6:30." he whispers, as he pulls the covers down on my bed, letting me crawl in.

(6:30am the next day.)

a loud honk blares through the campsite, before jessie on the megaphone starts "shark counsellers! the shark kids are lined up outside the breakfast hall, go help out in the kitchen"

i groan, my face still throbbing from dani's punches. xaivers sits up in the bed opposite me, "you feeling better.." he says, his voice raspy.

i nod, "mhm, not too excited about dealing with about 25 nine year olds." i mumble getting out of bed "you'll be right, theres 6 of us to control them we'll do it." he says optimistically.

i finish up getting changed, tying my hair into two braids. "you coming?" i say, looking at xaiver over my shoulder.

the hall is only a few hundred meters away from the staff cabins, which is now filled with 200 children. matt and lincoln are walking through the doors, dani and paige follow close behind them, too close for my liking.

i step inside, the smell of oatmeal fills my nose as i look around, theres countless tables filled with friend groups, in the back corner matts sitting alone on the last empty table, picking at his dry toast. i sigh loudly before walking over to him, he looks up at me, his eyes are puffy and red, he looks upset.

i sit down opposite him, his breathing picks up before he starts unannouced,

"dani and i.. have hated eachother since middle school. when i saw you get into your cabin with xavier i got fucking jealous. hate to admit it but i did. while i was walking towards my cabin dani approached me, she started touching up on my arms before pulling me off the path into the bushes. she kissed me, i don't know why i kissed her back, i think it was a jealousy thing, i wanted to get back at you?"

he sighs loudly as silence grows.

"look y/n, i really like you, and-" hes cut off by jessie on her fucking megaphone.

"helloooo campers! this is the first official day of summer camp and here are what each group is doing today!, crabs are doing rock climbing, which means it is mandatory to wear closed toe shoes. Sharks will be doing kayaking, please wear your swimsuit and your counsellers will take you down to the lake!"

i barely take in what jessie says, the only thing i'm thinking about is matt's previous sentence

look y/n i really like you.

look y/n i really like you.

(20 minutes later)

we've been sitting by the lake for a few minutes now, watching the kids attempt to kayak, im wearing a triangle white bikini with daisys printed on it, matt's sitting to my left, his eyes have been on me the whole time.

abrubtly he stands up, looking down at me. "come with me." he demands "huh?"

i stand up anyway, he takes my hand and starts to walk towards a shed, he opens the door and switches on the light. the dim warm lighting fills the room, revealing piles of wetsuits and life jackets.

he turns around and closes the door to the shed, locking it behind him.

he looks me in my eyes, his eyes dart down to my lips. "can i kiss you." matt asks, barely audible.

i gulp before nodding my head.

matt's hand holds my cheek gently before connecting his lips with mine. after a few seconds it turns into a makeout, his veiny hand holding my hair.

he pulls away slowly as his phone lights up, he scrolls through it before letting out a soft laugh "no way" he scoffs, rubbing his eyes.

"tonight were sleeping in the kids hall, like me and you, supervising.."

"you're kidding matt"

"nope, apparently theres a small cabin that connects off the kids hall, its got 1 bed that we share" he laughs

my cheeks flush, sharing a bed with matt, after this?..

—------------╚══ ❀•°❀°•❀ ══╝------------——

hope you guys liked this, like i said there will be smut in the next part!!

taglist:

@iammattsturniolo @iloveneilperry @tatumrileyslover @chrisstopherfilmed

[mxtxfanatic]

Just wanna say for those of y’all who came into this fandom late: just a few years ago, speaking on Jiang Cheng with anything less than glowing praise used to bring so much harassment that “angry grape”-related tags had to be created to circumvent jc stans finding and subsequently dogpiling your posts. I’ve since seen this tagging convention appropriated by his stans to be an “affectionate” petname for his character. If you wrote a wangxian fic in which Jiang Cheng did not appear, your fics would get bombarded with stans flooding your comments with their own headcanons on why Jiang Cheng isn’t around but “this is how he’d react if he was” and “everyone loves him, they’re definitely thinking about him, rn” and “when is he supposed to show up, op???” If you read a wangxian fic and Jiang Cheng did appear, there was a 95% chance that you would have to slog through thousands of words of abuse apologia paired with every character (except maybe Lan Wangji, maybe) claiming that Wei Wuxian deserved to be abused and should just learn to handle it better because abuse is really love. It took me a year of reading purely (only, exclusively) wangxian fics to find a single fic that had both 1) canon Jiang Cheng and 2) did not twist the other characters into fanon iterations to justify canon Jiang Cheng’s abusive behavior. When more canon writers started appearing, their fics got flooded with negativity, claims that the fic wasn’t realistic because “jc isn’t like that,” and demands to change things. They started moderating their comment sections. Eventually, jc stan writers even stopped tagging Jiang Cheng in their fics despite writing him as a major character because people began to avoid reading fics if they knew from the tags that his character appeared.

The “canon jc” tag was created on tumblr because jc stans said that if we didn’t like being attacked for canon opinions we should “create our own tag.” It was not a tag that always existed. Nobody used it until my friends created it. And every few months after that, we’d get a new “flood the tag” campaign by jc stans pissed at the name until it died down… until twitter refugees arrived, bringing with them a new faction of jc stans. That jc appreciate week or whatever they call it that starts on Halloween? Created by jc stans in an attempt to flood out Wei Wuxian appreciation posts on his birthday by making sure that new Jiang Cheng content would dominate all the major tags on that day. I watched the creators brag about that.

One BIG fandom upset happened when a jc stan wrote a horribly mistagged rape and murder wangxian fic and had their friends promote it so that wangxian lovers would read the fic and be traumatized. They gloated about having "successfully baited people," then tried to delete their tweets admitting it when they got them in trouble. I was there for that, too, and I only dodged being triggered because I saved the fic to read for later instead of cracking it open immediately.

Some of y’all may see me around now, but I’ve been watching this fandom for much longer than I’ve been making posts, before even the friends and mutuals I know now even knew I existed (yes I was a lurker lol). I’ve seen the development of all this play out across tumblr, ao3, and twitter (despite my best efforts to avoid the twitter side, that’s how ubiquitous it was). That’s how inescapable it was. I saw so much shit go down that I already had a mile-wide blocklist before I made my first post, and even then, I still got hate commentary on some of my posts the moment I dipped my littlest toe into metas. I had anon off for like a year because I didn’t want to deal with any harassment, and the moment I turned it off, I started getting bait anons (though not as bad as the others I’ve seen, holy shit). When I started this blog, all I did was liveblog and reblog other people’s art and metas. I was so stressed entering this fandom because the shit I had seen off rip was absolutely disgusting. That’s why I have very intentional rules of engagement that I try to hold to for myself. I may never be the first to start the fight, but I damn sure will defend myself and my friends. I also will never run away from admitting my mistakes, but I will also never be bullied into treating someone’s personal fantasies as equal to the actual factual text.

This isn’t to say that fanon enjoyers don’t get harassment. Another big fandom scandal was that a popular fanfic writer obsessed with canon had been harassing other writers through a series of bot accounts into leaving the fandom. What a lot of people don’t bring up in their bid to paint canon enjoyers as particularly prone to “fandom bullying,” however, was that the “canon” they were obsessed with was tied almost exclusively to the canon wangxian’s top/bottom sexual dynamic. I’d read that person’s works before—enjoyed them, even, before the scandal happened. They wrote fanon into their fics in other ways. The fanon/canon divide isn’t the problem; entitlement to unanimous fandom praise and recognition is.

There’s nothing wrong with enjoying canon or fanon, nothing right or wrong or morally superior for either camp. But do me a favor: go into the main jiang cheng character tag right now, and count how often you see a post about Jiang Cheng that portrays him in a negative light. Not one that portrays him as an snarky asshole or a teacher’s pet or a helicopter parent or a crybaby who only wants to be loved, but one which shows him in all of his uncensored glory as a piece of shit antagonist. How often do you see fanart of Jiang Cheng that isn’t “best jiujiu” or “sad didi” or “badass sect leader”? How often do you see metas that don’t include some iteration of “everyone is just so mean about poor little jc who just didn’t have a choice in anything he ever did 😢”? Go to the main novel tag and do the same. Hell, go to the wangxian tag and see what you find while you’re at it. How many of those posts are viral compared to “look at jc with his dogs!” or “look, I made lxc and jc kiss!” Then tell me whether or not you believe that jc stans are being specifically targeted for some unique and undeserved persecution by the fandom at large.

[stop-talking]

You're his ex, but he's desperate for a babysitter. (pt. 4)

Mike Schmidt x fem reader

2.4k words + 300 word epilogue

Tags: 18+, mike x fem reader, no use of y/n, exes, enemies to lovers, slowburn? sassy mike, sassy reader, pet names, banter, angst, fluff, comfort, happy ending.

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3

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Mike sits at his kitchen table, trying not to nod off into his cereal. Today is a quiet day. A lazy day. His one day off.

Except, not really. There's always work to be done. He just has to figure out what today's work would be. He's caught up on laundry and dishes, the house isn't too much of a mess... Hm. Maybe he should finally fix the dripping pipe in the bathroom. Or the living room window that's been stuck for years. Or one of the million other things wrong with his house.

He sighs and goes to take a bite of his cereal, only to realize he forgot the milk. Damn it. When he opens the fridge, he stands face to face with a little blue dolphin stuffed animal. Right... Abby's still testing him. He leaves it alone, she'll see it when she gets home from school and assume her "spell" still works. Pfft.

Mike nearly drops the milk mid-pour when he hears the phone ring.

*click.*

"Hello?" He mumbles groggily, a little annoyed to have his morning brooding interrupted.

"Hey, Mike? You free at all today?"

He immediately perks up at the sound of your voice. It's been two days since he last saw you, and he honestly wasn't sure if you'd ever speak to him again.

"Yeah, uh... It's my day off, actually."

"Good. I'm using that 2nd favor."

Mike's heart races. If this favor is going to be anything like the last one, he was definitely up for it.

"Oh? Missing me already, sweetheart?"

"As if. I need you to build me a shelf."

A shelf? Well, that was unexpected. Hm. Better than nothing.

"What, like build it from scratch? Are you expecting me to buy the boards, or-"

"No. I have all the pieces. It just needs to be assembled."

"You can't assemble a shelf?" Mike scoffs, but secretly he's pleased. Sounds like you just want an excuse to have him over.

"Mike. You know I'm no good with tools."

No, he didn't know that actually. Liar. You definitely just wanted to see him again. God, he felt giddy.

"Mhm. Sure."

"Just get your ass over here, Schmidt."

"Woah, what's with the attitude, Princess? I'm here to help." He can't help but let some smugness seep into his tone. Okay, more than some. He's a cocky bastard and he knows it.

"I've been working on the damn thing all morning. Almost three hours now. Not in the mood, jackass."

Shit. You sounded sincere. And really pissed off. Then again, what kind of a shelf took three hours to assemble? The fuck was it? A jigsaw puzzle?

"Alright, alright. I'll be over soon. See ya."

Mike slumps against the counter as you grumble something incoherent and slam the phone down. Damn, what is he getting himself into this time?

Only one way to find out.

・○・・・・・・○・・・・・・○・・・・・・○・・・・・・○・

When Mike finally arrives at your apartment half an hour later, he feels a bit silly. He put on a nice shirt and trousers to come see you, and here you are in sweats and a baggy t-shirt. Figures.

"Call for a handyman?" He greets you with a teasing smile, holding up his old rusted toolbox as he makes his way inside.

"Pfft. Someone's happy to see me."

Mike can't really say anything to that, so he doesn't try. He is happy to see you, even if you have attitude problems and dress like a bum.

"So, I bought the damn thing from a friend-of-a-friend, who got it at a garage sale. I swear, it has to be missing some parts or something, because-"

He nods as you rattle on and lead him to your bedroom, but he's only half-listening. He looks around your apartment, taking it all in. It's been at least six months since he last came over, probably longer. It doesn't look to have changed much. He likes your apartment. It's cozy.

"Anyways... can you fix it?"

Mike pauses in the doorway of your bedroom as you give him a sheepish smile and gesture to something in the corner.

Holy hell. Is that supposed to be a shelf? Mike can't help but think that the hideous agglomeration of boards and screws would only be good as a fire-starter. It looks more like a pile than a shelf.

"Uhh..." He bites his cheek, desperately trying not to burst into a fit of laughter. Maybe you really weren't lying about the whole "no good with tools" thing.

He finally loses it when you groan and flop down on the bed, hiding your face in a pillow.

"Ughh... Laugh at me, whatever. Just fix it."

"Jesus Christ. This has to be the sorriest excuse for a shelf I've ever seen. Sure you don't want me to haul it to the junkyard instead?" He snorts, sitting down on the edge of your bed and looking with disdain at the half-assedly assembled shelf.

Mike immediately shuts his mouth when you glare at him. Oops, right, you're in a bad mood.

"I mean, uh... you tried?" He laughs, shaking his head in amusement. He still can't believe you're actually this inept when it comes to assembly.

"Get to work, Schmidt."

Mike yelps as you kick him off the bed, but doesn't bother retaliating. He just grabs his toolbox and sits on the floor, examining the so-called "shelf".

"Well, the first step is going to be un-doing everything you did."

・○・・・・・・○・・・・・・○・・・・・・○・・・・・・○・

You lie on your stomach in bed, chin propped up on your hands as you kick your feet in the air and ponder the sight before you. Mike's back is turned to you as he quietly works away taking apart the monstrosity you assembled.

"How long is this gonna take?"

"Well, If it wasn't so..." He trails off, glancing at you and choosing his words more carefully.

"...sturdy, it'd be a lot easier to take apart."

"Hm? What do you mean?"

He gives you an incredulous look and gestures to a series of nails in a corner where two boards meet. It does look pretty ridiculous, the sharp ends pointing out the other side. Not your best work.

"You put nails in it, sweetheart." He scoffs.

"How else was I supposed to keep it together?" You give him your best pout, and gloat internally when he has to turn away. He's absolutely infatuated with you. Even the back of his neck is pink.

"It comes with screws for a reason, ya know."

"There's a difference?"

He turns and gives you a flat look, and you laugh. Damn. You can play dumb with him, but maybe not that dumb. Noted.

Still, it's a little boring just laying there and watching him grumble and pull nails from wood. You can't really mess with him too much either, because you really do what him to fix the stupid shelf.

"You want something to drink?" You finally break the silence, under the guise of trying to be a good hostess.

"Pfft. Need some whiskey to deal with this bullshit." He snorts, pulling yet another nail free. He'd almost gotten one board off. One. This was gonna take a while.

"I was thinking more along the lines of soda or tea."

"Jack and Coke, then?"

"Mike. It's hardly past noon."

"So?" He scoffs. "For me, this is like... evening, or something. I dunno. Sleep schedule's fucked with this new job."

That answer makes you pause.

"What is it you do now, anyway?"

He groans, finally prying one of the boards free of the clusterfuck.

"Night guard. Told you already, remember?" He tries to shrug the question off, but you're nosy.

"Where?"

"Uhh... Freddy Fazbear's Pizza..."

"Speak up."

"Ugh. It's this stupid rundown hellhole pizzeria. Honestly dunno why anyone would wanna break in there anyways. It's a dump."

"What kind of a pizzeria needs a night guard? Or any guard?"

"The haunted kind."

You decide not to ask about that, simply shaking your head as you walk to the door. He's truly a loon. A loveable loon, unfortunately.

"Just tell me what you want to drink, Mikey, or I'm getting you water."

・○・・・・・・○・・・・・・○・・・・・・○・・・・・・○・

Mike sits on the floor of your bedroom sipping his glass of water and wondering how he got here. If you'd told him a week ago he'd be building his witch of an ex-girlfriend a shelf, he would've gagged. Now...? Well, he just wants to go join you on that bed.

"So are you really just gonna sit there and look pretty while I do all the work?"

"Aww, you think I'm pretty, Mikey? You smile, lying on the bed with your feet kicking in the air, giving him a look of pure adoration. It wasn't hard to do.

"Pretty annoying, yeah." He turns away with a scoff, returning to his work. If only he could get this stupid nail untangled from the other two... why would anyone use this many nails?

"You know, I think I liked you better gagged."

"Oh I know, sweetheart. I could see it in those evil eyes of yours." He can't help but smirk a bit at the comment, though. Sometimes he liked himself better gagged, too. He shakes the thought away and keeps working.

"Why can't you just get on hands and knees and beg me to take you back already?" You huff dramatically and roll over onto your back, letting your head fall over the edge of the bed. He looks silly from this angle. Upside-down.

That question nearly makes Mike drop his tools. Were you serious?

"Why? So you can laugh me off again?"

Ouch. It was true you'd turned him down the last time he'd tried it, but that was six months ago.

"Maybe if you used those big brown puppy eyes of yours on me."

That only earns you a grunt, so you verbally prod him again.

"Besides, why can't I do both? Laugh at you, then take you back? Sounds fun."

"Pfft. Fun? To toy with me? You'd probably break up with me all over again just for shits and giggles." He responds bitterly, still refusing to turn around.

"Mikey. Look at me." You roll back over onto your stomach and rest your chin in your hands as he slowly meets your gaze.

"I didn't break up with you just for shits and giggles. You know that. I'm not letting you sit there and wallow in self-pity."

Mike goes stiff from your words, but your tone is soft, and your eyes even softer. You're still giving him that adoring look. Damn it.

"Well maybe I'd rather wallow in self pity than admit you were right all along."

"You've had six months to wallow. Grow a pair and come kiss me."

He can't say no to that. Not when you look at him that way. He shuffles over, kneeling by the side of your bed. On his knees for you again, damnit.

You kiss him. It's different from the lustful, sloppy kiss you shared last time. This one makes you feel warm. You kiss him again. And again.

Mike really doesn't want this to end, but the knot in his stomach forces him to pull away. He has to ask.

"Why? Why are you doing this, I mean? Do you really want... to take me back?" He sputters, looking down at the floor.

"I'm not completely sure yet." You answer honestly, shifting and lying back on the bed.

Damn. That's not the answer he wanted to hear.

"Are you-"

"Come here."

When you pat the spot next to you in bed, Mike melts. He's a wreck right now, but still wants nothing more than to be with you, in every sense of the word. He silently complies.

"It's not about right and wrong, you know. As much as I love being told I'm right." You give him a soft smile, breaking the silence and placing your hand on top of his as you both lie on your sides.

Damn it. He'd done this with you before, this and so much more. Why was such a small touch turning him to goo?

"What isn't?"

"The breakup. It's about growing as a person. As people. Both of us." You lace your fingers with his, and can't help but laugh as his face reaches a level of pink you've never seen before.

"And what exactly am I supposed to be growing out of?"

"Pfft. I don't know, the emotional unavailability? The way you never made time for me? Constant irritability?" You start to dramatically list off his flaws, using your free hand to count on your fingers.

"Okay, okay. I get it." He huffs, and grabs your hand before you can make fun of him more. Instead, he guides it to his side, pulling you in a little closer.

"And you're miss perfect?"

"No. 'Course not. I have flaws too." You give him a sly smile, and start listing your own "faults".

"Too hot and sexy, too intelligent, too kind, amazing, sweet and caring..."

That's as far as you get before Mike scoots closer, burying his face in your neck and giving you a playful nip.

"Too arrogant." He adds with a laugh, wrapping his arm around you and letting himself melt further into you.

"My arrogance is one of my best qualities, thank you." You reply haughtily, sliding your hand up his back and into his hair.

Mike couldn't speak, even if he could somehow find the right words to say. Everything in this moment felt so right. His arm around you. Your fingers in his hair. He lets out a soft groan instead.

You aren't exactly eager to let go of this moment either, and just hold him for a few minutes. It feels nice to play with his soft brown curls.

"I'll do better. Please." He finally mumbles something to you, not bothering to move his face from where it's buried in the crook of your neck.

"Please what, Mikey?"

"Take me back."

He finally pulls back, just enough to give you a glimpse of those puppy eyes of his. Damn it. How could you even think of saying no?

"Yeah. Okay."

You both lean in for another round of soft passionate kisses, and Mike feels himself relax completely. His stomach unknots and his mind goes numb. For the first time in months, he feels completely safe.

・○・・・・・・○・・・・・・○・・・・・・○・・・・・・○・

"So does this mean you'll babysit for me again?"

"Go finish the shelf, Schmidt."

"Yes, Princess."

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♡ Epilogue ♡

Over the past few weeks, you and Mike had fallen into a sort of rhythm.

He never did end up finding a new babysitter, and besides, you're the only one who could ever get Abby to finish her dinner. You had to graduate her from daily witching lessons to weekly ones, though, convincing her she needed to study for the more advanced spells. Secretly, Mike was just losing track of which objects in his house were supposedly invisible. It was quite amusing to watch.

Mike's favorite part of the day was coming home to you already asleep in his bed, and waking you up with a kiss. He'd then either lie down in bed while you shower, or hop in there with you, depending on how you felt. Either way, he loved the view.

The conflicting schedules made things complicated, but you were able to work around it. Mike slept better with you holding him, and consequentially, was a lot more agreeable. He did his best to make more time for both you and Abby.

He even started to open up to you for once, letting you take on some of his burdens. This man sure had a lot of guilt. You were certain he hadn't yet told you everything, but he told you enough. At least you finally knew what the fucking NEBRASKA poster on the ceiling was for. Now you kind of felt bad for all the times you teased him about it the first time you dated.

As for the damn shelf... well, he finished it. It was still hideous, but it was functional. There were holes in it from the nails, and the wood had even started to splinter in a few spots. You couldn't bring yourself to get rid of it, though. Not after how much work you both put into it. Even if most of Mike's work revolved around un-doing yours.

It definitely wasn't a perfect relationship, not by far. But Mike never promised to be the perfect boyfriend. He just promised to be better.

And he was, bit by bit, every day. Better. ♡

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Author's note:

Thank you all for the love!! This was my first time writing a fanfic of any kind so I'm really happy so many of you enjoyed it. Feels good to bring the story to an end.

Feel free to send me a request, I'd love to write more fics about Mike. Or any other J-hutch character for that matter, Mikey is just my favorite <3

[ohmotherwhereartthou-if]

Quick Update

Hey everyone, sorry for the very low updates with asks and on the IF itself. This semester had been brutal and plus with my job, that both have robbed me of all my free time.

But yesterday on the 18th was my birthday and a day or so before that it was the 2 year anniversary of my starting OMWAT. More than anything it floored me that so much time has passed and how little progress I have made with the story.

For the longest time I have been stuck in a rut of wanting to make just so much more progress than I have been currently able to and it's been pissing me off more than anything.

Each time I update it's usually only like a few 5K or 6K words, I mean, two years and I am still on chapter 1? Ugh.

I am not just complaining here either, if anything it's pushing me to find more time and just keep updating whatever I have done so I can actually see the progress as further motivation.

Right now the dashingdon page has a new update I just dropped where I finally wrap up chapter 1 act 1, and start act 2.

FYI a LOT of it is clunky and unfinished but I really think I just gotta keep micro updating as I go, for my own sanity.

If you decide to wait until much more is done that's all good with me too, I am very sorry about the long waits in between updates for this IF. 😅

--------

Quick update change list:

The IF is now at 61k words

Fixed some bugs

Added chef profession path

Chapter 1, act 1 is done; we know will zoom through MC's development years with June all throughout act 2 (a lot of it is not done!), act 3 is when the heartbreak happens

Added a secret trait that you can only find under VERY specific conditions, no special dialouge has been added to it yet but that is planned for the future

Added the starting mechanics for MC's sexuality, only one option for it is shown for now, later in chapter 1, act 2 more of it will show up to cement MC's sexual preferences

Took off the secret lock on chapter 1, act 2

Introduced 1 of the the 2 possible childhood best friends for MC

We now begin to mold who your MC is during chapter 1, act 2; a lot of it isn't done but you will see the first of many snapshot moments of their development years.

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Here is a quick link to the game if you want to see the small update: Link

[grahminradarin]

Hi hey hello. I've been watching Miraculous since September, and I just finished.

WHAT THE FUCK IS WRONG WITH THIS FANDOM?

That finale was amazingly well-made. I definitely get why people were disappointed, but there's no way that's everything. The writers who made the rest of the season so good are not capable of writing something this confusing and unsatisfying, unless it's on purpose. This story isn't done.

There has been a lot of focus in the season on class dynamics, but in the last couple of episodes they really start bringing this theme of how people deal with power to the forefront

With Ladybug and Chat deciding not to do anything against Chloe because it's not their responsibility even though they have the power to do it, everything with Lila, the increasingly reckless and harmful ways Gabriel is manipulating people because he thinks he gets to decide what is good for others, Gimmi complaining that no one ever summons them to tell them anything good and only summon Gimmi to use Gimmi's power.

And the thing that brings it together: Marinette's speech right at the end, just before Gabriel makes the wish, when she says the power is only valid when it's used for the greater good of other people.

And then the statue of Gabriel. Right after all of this, a statue commemorating the man who refuses to use his power for the good of others. The dissonance is on purpose. This story is thematically incomplete, and I think the London special will finally wrap it all up.

What does the fandom come away from this talking about? How interesting this all is and wondering how it gets resolved? No. The fandom on the subreddit (and some of them on Tumblr) say "The villain won without consequences! This is bad writing!" and "Why is Marinette not telling Adrien he's a sentimonster?".

I just. How do you watch that and come away with your biggest concern being "Marinette didn't tell Adrien the truth"? How do you not see that it's so much bigger than that? That's not one dangling plot thread, we're looking at an unfinished garment and complaining that the edges are fraying.

And a good portion of the fandom cannot for the life of themselves see the loom and the people working it still going. I don't know how to stretch this metaphor any further, but I cannot believe that anyone would look at something so blatantly incomplete and still treat it like it's the entire picture. It's a microcosm of a bigger issue with the fandom, which is, as far as I can tell, that this fandom wants to watch a different show. Seasons 4 and 5 are so vastly different from seasons 1 and 2, and I think the people that came here to enjoy the first two or three seasons but hated the later ones are angry with the show for not following the traditional kinds of stories in the genre.

This show isn't trying to be an episodic or somewhat serialized story about love squares and middle school nonsense. It's a deep and varied exploration of what being a magical girl does to a 14 year old (in addition to many other things), and it's not pretty. The show is trying to say "this was terrible for everyone, and it shouldn't have happened, but it did, and here's how". And most people didn't want that, which is fair. But it doesn't mean the show is badly written, nor does it mean the writers hate certain characters. It pisses me off that a show this well made, with so much time and effort and care, is constantly dismissed as a badly-written, disorganized piece of crap that people only like ironically. Something this well made deserves a more neutral presentation to let people form their own opinions, and it deserve appreciation for the innumerable things it does well, especially in later seasons and the specials.

In summary, Miraculous isn't bad. A vocal part, maybe even the majority, of the fandom just wanted something else based on the first 3 seasons, and hasn't realized it because they're so devoted to hating on the show. And it deserves a much better reputation than it has.

[granddaughterogg]

You Let Me Complicate You - Part 1

This is a love story about Simon "Ghost" Riley and you, starting with a random hookup and later navigating your increasingly complex feelings and desires towards each other.

~~Reblogs are always Greatly Appreciated!~~

PART 2 HERE

SUMMARY: You're all alone in London because of Reasons. On a particularly dreadful, windy, rainy Halloween evening you venture outside for a quick pint - but find Simon "Ghost" Riley instead. He's a consummate fuckboy who uses fleeting trysts to blow off steam collected at his deadly job, and you're a cynical, world weary girl who nonetheless very much enjoys no-string-attached sex. None of you are prepared for the horror of Actually Falling In Love. Also - the mask stays on for ridiculously long. What, oh what will become of this fateful encounter?

Chapter 1: SKULLFACE

As with many other adventures in your life - this one started only because you wouldn’t quench your curiosity.

It was an insatiable force, one that has driven you into a lot of shit over the years. On the other hand, you could call your life path - that collection of irregular zigs and zags off the beaten trajectory - anything but dull. And you owed it to that ever-present itch at the back of your head.

Let’s go back to the very start, shall we?

The start was unpromising. For one, it was Halloween evening, but you were on your own and it was pissing it down outside.

You sat in a tiny squalid apartment, its walls painted a nauseating shade of green and stared at the darkness behind your windows. Cold water splashed against the glass. Technically speaking, those windows weren’t yours. Nothing here was. You’ve just Airbnb’ed this hovel for a few weeks. The thing is, you’ve been awaiting news about a job.

They haven’t contacted you yet. You’ve been paying through the nose for this musty abode, bristling at the prices of groceries – at the prices of anything, really. London’s famous charms were lost on you. You hated this city. To you, it felt as if someone had squashed a dozen smaller towns into an amorphous heap. You didn’t know a single soul in those streets and you weren’t sure if you wanted to change that.

But how long can a lonely girl sit on her ass, browse youtube and marinate herself in misery?

And it was All Hallow’s Eve after all.

You always loved Halloween.

The weather discouraged kids from trick-and-treating. Yet you could still hear multiple footsteps going every which way on the wet pavement below, snippets of conversations and muffled laughter. Londoners decided to enjoy themselves tonight, weather be damned. 

You paused the video (it was about a groomer, tending to a particularly matted, hissy cat). You stood up with a sigh, slammed your laptop shut and went to the suitcase lying in the corner.

It’s been a week here and apart from your sensible job interview clothes, (which have been hanging on the door, properly steamed) you still haven’t found it in yourself to unpack.

Never mind that now. You unceremoniously threw the suitcase’s contents on the wooden floor and fished one particular object out of the pile; a little velvet dress, as black as the night.

You stood in front of the dusty mirror and pulled the garment on. It was one of those strappy numbers which start late but end pretty early. Hugged all your curves, not leaving much to the imagination. Your dear mother would’ve described this dress as „slutty”.

Just the way you liked it.

You’ve learned before that excessive preparations only dull your enthusiasm for the unknown. So you’ve slid your feet inside your trusted combat boots, smudged some black eyeliner here and there, put your hair up in a French twist with a simple metal pin, and threw on a jacket - and you were good to go.

Wherever those streets would take you.

***

It turned out that the streets wouldn’t take you far. Because it was raining fucking hard. 

It's one thing to merely observe the skies opening, and another to withstand their fury. You were trudging the pavement under your flimsy foldable umbrella, almost bent in half because of the gusty wind. You walked turned to the side, trying to avoid getting ballistic rainwater in your eyes, one half of your face damp and cold already. The light jacket offered little protection; soon you were soaked to the bone, and furious.

Screw it, you thought. I’m just gonna get inside any old place, have a pint and then go home.

You turned the corner and came upon a narrow crooked staircase leading below the street level, as was usually the case with pubs in this area. Some people were just leaving the premises, laughing and talking as they went. You caught a glimpse of bluish light, pouring from the inside along with some muffled bass beats.

Good enough.

You descended down the staircase; concrete steps crumbled under your tractor soles, threatening to throw you off balance. You passed by some folks on your way, squeezing yourself past them on a narrow path cutting through an overgrown courtyard. You pulled the handle of a heavy iron door. It was covered in graffiti and layers upon layers of old stickers. 

You stepped inside.

Your first thought was: This is not a pub.

You weren’t a local – hell, you weren’t even British – but after some time spent in this country, you’ve more or less become acquainted with the trappings of this cornerstone of any local community, what with its cosy nooks, mandatory fireplace and dark polished woodwork. Those kinds of places you knew. The beer wasn’t half bad, the tunes were usually tolerable and bartenders had this well-practiced cordiality to them. You liked the atmosphere of an English pub.

This, however, was different. Like, much noisier.

Your ears got filled with the metallic beats of dark industrial music. You couldn’t name the song that was playing. Deep inside there was a small dancefloor, where bodies swayed along with the slow, reverberating rhythm. 

This place was so dimly lit, that you had to squint just to adjust. The walls were raw concrete, with exposed brass piping running up and down in complicated patterns. It reminded you of a bunker. All the furniture seemed to be worn down and mismatched as if someone scavenged it from various vacant buildings. The bar counter was one giant slab of concrete too, its greyness punctuated by rows of tiny lights hanging from the iron truss under the low ceiling. 

The patrons all wore black. Not just your basic, nondescript black, oh no. You looked around (as much as you could while drifting in this neon blue semi-darkness, which revealed so little) and noticed some people in gothic finery. Velvet, lace, the works. Others chose leather or elaborate corsetry.

Ah, it’s one of those places.

You got your shit together, folded the damn umbrella, shook your damp hair to get at least some of the water out of it, and beelined to the concrete bar. At this point of the evening, you’d kill for a hot beverage.

The bar area was not too crowded, thank fuck. You clambered gracelessly onto one of the free barstools and smiled at the bartender. He was completely bald, with a ginormous nose ring and a thin face, eternally crumpled into an expression of faint disgust.

"Hello! One hot tea, please", you said breathlessly.

Dude looked at you as if you’d just spat on his mother’s grave.

"Tea? You sure 'bout that?"

"Well yeah", you answered. "It’s bucketing down out there, and I got chilled to the bone..."

The bartender wasn’t moved by your plight. 

"This is a club, not your Granny’s living room, see? We serve adults here..."

"Give ‘er a damn tea, Geoffrey. Don’t be a cunt."

A man’s voice rang out from your left. It was low and throaty, but also perfectly even in tone. It cut through the music and the bustle like a knife wielded by a steady hand. Your ears twitched pleasantly at this sound.

Geoffrey blinked at whoever it was that scolded him. Then he made a face and turned away to fulfil your order.

"I’m just saying, we’re trying to run a business here…" he muttered, putting the kettle on.

"I see that”, you assured. "Make that a tea and a glass of Scotch then. I could use both."

"Right." The bartender was seemingly placated by your offer.

When he put the drinks in front of you and turned towards other customers, you emptied the sugar packet inside the cup, stirred your tea for a while, finally sipped it - and sighed with delight. It all took a while. When the life-restoring elixir started to course through your veins, you stole a glance at the man who spoke earlier.

"Thanks for putting in the word for me", you said with a slight smile.

"Geoff's not a bad bloke. Just overworked." 

The stranger was tall and dressed in a black sweatshirt with the hood pulled over his head. He was looking straight ahead, away from you, cradling his whisky glass in two large, strikingly pale hands.

"I can imagine, with the place being so busy on Halloween and all...Anyway, I’m feeling better by the minute." 

"Drink up then, and that whisky too. You look like a half-drowned cat."

That voice was something to behold. So deep and guttural, with a thick accent that made short work of most of the consonants. As your ears helpfully suggested, it was probably Mancunian. One doesn’t simply grow such a voice. One earns it through incessant smoking and other recurring bad life decisions, no doubt. It was kinda hot.

...Wait a moment, did this perfect stranger just smack-talk you?

Your head darted upwards. 

"Did you just say that I look like shit?" 

Your tone was still playful - if underlined by a suggestion that you’re always ready to drop the playfulness.

The hooded man must’ve heard that undertone because he chuckled. That rumbling sound reverberated somewhere deep within you. Probably in your bones.

"Don’t be so hard on yourself, love. You're just a little worse for wear, is all."

That impassive tone of his stabbed you in the solar plexus. You've straightened up as if pulled by a string. The teaspoon fell into your tea, making a soft clatter, while you spun around on your stool to look this insolent git straight in the face.

"How do you know?" you bit out. "You weren't even looking -"

The following words got stuck in your throat.

Not only was the man hooded, but he also wore a mask. A tight black one, covering his head and the lower part of his face. A balaclava, your brain hinted helpfully. It looked like a part of the regulation equipment of the armed forces, and that's where the similarities came to an end. For the mask has been printed over – or painted, maybe? - with the image of a skull. Mainly its lower jaw. White paint glimmered in the bluish light, forming a wide, ghastly smile which grinned at you.

But even more striking were his eyes, large and protruding. Your stunned stare met two opaque irises, as dark and dense as a black hole. You weren't able to decipher their expression. That cryptic intensity of his gaze seemed to bend space-time. 

His eyelids and skin around the eyes have also been blackened, but his long lashes remained pale as frost.

You stared at this vision with your mouth ajar, like a dead fish.

"What?" He asked calmly and quietly. "Do I have something on me fuckin' face?"

You were always quite outspoken, but at that moment words eluded you.

"Cool mask,” you said finally because something needed to be said. „Cool...disguise. Is it for Halloween?"

He didn't blink. It was unnerving.

"I don't do 'alloween, love."

"So you wear this thing 'cause it makes you more interesting and mysterious and shit?"

The tall man leaned towards you, his eyes creasing in a smile.

"Look at you, sweetheart. It's clearly workin'."

"That's because of that stare of yours. It could pin a person to a wall...", you murmured.

"I could pin you to a wall. Just ask nicely.”

You felt suddenly weightless. Out of breath. 

"For how long?" you quipped, trying your damnedest to sound flippant. 

The nerve of this fucking guy!

"For as long as you'll need me to. I'm a dedicated man.”

There was no bravado ringing in his gritty voice. Just a calm statement of fact.

You cut a look at his arms. The black cotton of the hoodie did little to conceal their immense size. 

He could probably deliver on his promise.

You took a long breath, trying to regain your lost composure. It wasn't easy when this hulking freak stared you down, but you'd been in tighter spots before.

Goths, amirite, you thought. Ever the contrarians, regardless of their age. They tended to be good in the sack though.

You studied this new specimen very thoroughly - and there was plenty to stare at. The man was built like an industrial-sized fridge. Ridiculously tall even while sitting down and broad-shouldered, with a firm chest stretching the plain black cotton of his sweatshirt. Which, by the way, he wore zipped up almost to his very chin, like a layer of protective gear. Weird.

Those dim little lights over the bar made it hard for you to discern the details, but you also noticed the width of his torso and his powerful thighs, clad in simple blue denim. He was by far the plainest dressed patron of this edgelord cellar joint. Apart from the mask you didn't notice anything even remotely Gothic about his style or bearings. Although he sat motionless, cradling a glass of whisky in his long, strong fingers – he still exuded that kind of primal strength which you've learned to associate with the outdoorsy hiker type or the avid sportsman.

"Like what you're seein', love?”

You winced, a bit perplexed that he had caught you taking stock of his impressive physique. But you weren't about to let him know that.

"Yep”, you blurted out instead, staring boldly into those eyes, as dark and impenetrable as a shark's. "Do you?"

"I do, yeah."

Aaand here we go, you thought, relaxing immediately. For now, you were on a beaten path.

"You've said that I looked like -", you chuckled accusingly, leaning back on your stool. His stare was gliding all over you without any shame, probably filing the best finds away for later.

"I know what I said," he cut you off calmly, leaning closer. The height difference between you two was striking.

"Your mascara got smudged and ran off...to there."

You stilled as this complete stranger traced a pale finger across your eye socket. You drew in a deep breath as he touched your zygomatic bone, where nothing possibly could've smudged. His fingertip travelled even further, brushing over your sensitive skin and freeing a lone strand of hair from behind your ear. It was still damp from the rain.

He did it very slowly. Very gently.

You let him. As if you were hypnotized. Attempted a smile, but the corners of your mouth felt strangely numb.

"See? Now that's perfection", he stated in the same hushed, impassive tone of voice before turning back to his drink. The whisky glass disappeared in his hand.

You were silent. Your head was buzzing as if someone had set the radio inside to a non-existent channel.

The thing is, you knew perfectly well who you were dealing with. When it comes to seasoned fuckboys like Skullface here, it's all very simple; they're nothing to be afraid of. Such men are what a high wave is for the swimmer. An opportunity for a fun ride.

Back when you were a teenage girl, you liked to spend hours on end in the sea. At the time you'd like to imagine that this cool, salty, malachite green vastness was your lover. You drifted in the water, letting the wave carry you, surrendering yourself to its tender ruthlessness, allowing the element to hold you for a moment without dealing any harm, to guide you like a dance partner, and then to pass by and disappear into the distance.

It is just like dancing. As long as you know the steps, something beautiful can come out of it.

And you haven't had the chance to let loose on the dancefloor for so long.

You calmed your body by taking a few deep breaths. You couldn't calm your heart. What you could do, though - was to let your audacious spirit take the wheel.

You grabbed at your glass and emptied it in one sweep. Vile whisky did as it always would; it burned your gullet only to flare into a ball of pleasant warmth once it reached your insides. It was not a connoisseur-worthy beverage, but its aggressive sweetness suited your current mood.

You threw your head back and exhaled slowly.

He was watching, you could tell. He tilted his head slightly. Amusement emanated from behind the black mask.

"Say..." you drawled, leaning towards him with your eyes sparkling, for you felt a surge of vigour and boldness along with a freshly bloomed, alcohol-induced blush. 

"Does your mum know that you being a goth is not a phase?"

Skullface snorted softly.

"I am not a goth, love."

"Then why are you in this den for kinky weirdos?" You gestured around the dark interior, including the bare walls, the blue neon light and the throbbing, metallic, dark rhythms pulsing around you.

"I like goth chicks”, he admitted. Cheeky git.

"Why?" you prodded.

"Tattoos in fun places."

"Animal”, you chided him, setting your empty glass down with a bang.

"Excuse me, sir!" you called out to the bartender. "I shall have another."

"Like you came here for some lofty purpose. Wanna discuss the works of Kierkegaard...dressed like that?” The masked man snorted, summing up your entire scantily clad person with one tilt of his chin.

You chuckled quietly, taking no offence.

"I'm surprised that you even know how to pronounce his name."

He remained silent, so you fired away again, buoyed by the alcohol in your veins: 

"Weren't you supposed to add something scathing after the 'dressed like that' part? I'm still waiting for that burn to sting."

"If I did, I'd be a fuckin' hypocrite", he muttered. "Cause I very much enjoy it."

That solemn note of appreciation in his voice made you smile and nod. What an earnest freak.

The bartender came over and took away both of your empty glasses.

"What can I get you?" he asked, his gaze moving from his face to yours.

"Two glasses of bourbon, Geoffrey", the masked man said.

He noticed that you were opening your mouth and nipped those objections in the bud by raising a finger.

"Hey. Bear with me here. If you don't like it, you might drink whatever you want next. Even more of that fuckin' coal sludge you've been having."

"Excuse you, Scotch is hardly a sludge".

"That's what the bloody Scots would tell you. In much more...colourful terms, I s'ppose. I have a Scottish coworker and every time that we go drinkin', he gives me a bloody earful about the superiority (he pronounced this word rolling his r's) of the local distilleries over that Kentucky brew."

"You're friends with a highlander?" you asked. "Does he curse at you in Scots whenever he gets agitated?"

"All the fuckin' time. He's a twonk." A smile laced his words.

"You sure are passionate about your liquor choices." 

You propped your chin up with your hand, smiling at him.

"If I wanted to taste a fuckin' fireplace, I'd chew on a burnt log. Bourbon is the way to go. Much sweeter."

You couldn't help but laugh at his sudden fervour.

"You don't seem like the kind of lad who pursues sweetness," you quipped, trying to look into those impossible eyes of his and not blink. So far, it was a downhill battle. 

The bartender came back. Two glasses full of amber liquid landed on the counter with a dull clink. You didn't have the time to focus on them, because Skullface leaned towards you, shading you with his powerful torso and obscuring the source of the blue light. Your nostrils were suddenly filled with his pleasant manly scent, mixed with the fragrance of fresh laundry, some kind of a woody-citrusy aftershave, and a hint of something you couldn't decipher even though you knew that smell. Its memory, devoid of a name, tickled at the tip of your tongue. Fireworks?

"Sweet and rough things should go hand in hand in life. That's how you make it all bearable somehow."

"Somehow?..” you asked absentmindedly, mesmerised by his deep voice. By the promise tilting at the edge of those slowly, intently enunciated words.

"Hey, true balance is hard to find, 'cause life's a fuckin' mess. It's chaos, it's cruel. No point to it at all."

Holy mackerel, you thought. A goth girl admirer, an apparent powerhouse of a man and a homegrown nihilist in one. With eyes like two abysses and a voice like grit. This was going to be an enchanting evening.

Don't go crazy just yet, you admonished yourself. Don't let this stranger in a mask get the upper hand on you. Keep your calm so that he doesn't sweep you off your feet prematurely.

"So," you murmured, your tone casual, "What did Kierkegaard have to say, exactly?"

Dark eyes twinkled. 

"Many things. Like that our whole existence is absurd. It doesn't really matter what we do, so we might as well do whatever the fuck we want. And right now, I want to do...this."

He dipped a finger into his glass of bourbon and glided it across your lower lip.

You parted your mouth without protest, giving in to the shamelessness of this gesture.

"Just taste it."

[theragethatisdesire]

random poly!erejean headcanons bc i said so ❤︎₊ ⊹

some of these are going to end up nsfw i'm sure so i'm going to put a cut at some point but i just love this little throuple and u guys need to know as much about them as me and @fictional-d-supremacy

it takes eren the longest to adjust to everything (to be fair, he went from "wait, a threesome would be fun...especially with jean!" to "why especially with jean?" to "wait...jean.")

so it's understandable that it takes eren a bit to understand his attraction towards jean and jean's towards him, both of them are hesitant and crossing that bridge of best friends -> unexpected relationship

but one day you come over unexpectedly to find them snuggled up on the couch together, eren tucked under one of jean's arms and your heart just melts - naturally they LEAP up when you catch them and are super pink and eyeing each other suspiciously

jean goes a little too long without a hair cut and eren (after some manhandling) drags him in front of you one day, both of their hair tied back in identical buns. "look babe, twins!"

going on a date night with the three of you is damn near impossible

jean and eren bicker constantly about the restaurant. jean wants to wear the same red button-down that eren's already got on and claims he's called dibs. eren wants to have sex but you're all already fifteen minutes late for the reservation

all that to say jean gets to show off his cooking abilities a lot considering how many dinner reservations you miss

it turns out jean is the only person that can dom eren. eren loves to talk shit to you, but jean can shut him right up. sometimes jean's in the mood to play good cop/bad cop (like we've seen in the fics), but other times, your sex life just goes in a cycle of jean pulling the strings and you and eren smiling up at him with hearts in your eyes

eren finds out that he loves giving head. neither you or jean can get out the door without eren trailing after you begging to "just give it a kiss goodbye"

jean teaches you how to help him make eren cum without anyone touching him (you didn't even know guys could do that, and neither did eren)

when it finally happens, eren's eyes are as big as saucers while jean and you just smirk at him

"what just happened?" "you came." "i-i- but, i know, but-" "i think we broke him."

birthdays are a HUGE deal

especially since two of you can gang up on whoever's the birthday princess (regardless of gender, the birthday boy/girl has to wear the "birthday princess" crown that eren got you for your birthday a few years ago)

you've come home on several instances to find the air in the apartment chilly and jean and eren not speaking only to find out one beat the other in a video game

even once they're comfortable and mushy and in love, jean and eren still insist on you sleeping in between them

1. "because you're our princess!" 2. "because jean snores." 3. "yeah? well eren kicks." you wind up both the body pillow and the punching bag for them

you and jean love to get eren all flustered by telling him how pretty he looks before you head out. little cheek/forehead kisses make him scowl and blush without fail.

alternatively, you and eren love to rile jean up by sending him nudes and nasty videos while he's at work. you both pay for it later, but it's so worth it.

i feel like they just pick you up 24/7? like they've absolutely swung you back and forth with one holding your arms and one holding your ankles just to piss you off while you're reading on the couch

when you get your period, the boys secretly call it your "monstruation" period. jean chastises eren for it all the time, but he's the one that slips up and clues you in on it

eren's in charge of snacks and movies to keep you comfortable, jean's in charge of medicine and keeping the tampon/pad drawer stocked

eren absolutely buys stupid "his/hers/his" things for the house like mugs and matching towels. denies being the one that bought them when they show up in the mail

"we must have a secret admirer- i mean, not like i blame them or anything. we're hot."

i have so many more i just didn't want this to be an absolute MONSTER of a post lol. like yes, is poly!erejean a smutty dream? sure, but the FLUFF potential!!! that's what gets me! i just love them <3

if you guys want more please tell me i will never shut up about them ever