#Give me five minutes to get over my failure

[pinkyqily]

IT OKAY,WE'RE OKAY, WE ARE DEFINITELY OKAY

Summary: juju apologize and makes it up to you like the good girlfriend and teammate she is.

Part one

Contains: fluff, snappy lovers, cursing, groveling, not proofread throughly yet

A/n: here is part two as promised with a happy ending, would love to get reactions or feedbacks of what you guys think, if you have any juju requests feel free to send them in anyway happy reading readers 🩷

Next few days between you and JuJu pass by a blur. Having your coaches telling you guys to solve out your shit was definitely a wake-up call for you, you're mind just keeps on replaying those awful words from juju.

Was that how she really saw you as a player? was all your mind could wonder.

But at the same time, you couldn't stop thinking about how she felt even though you were the one that got hurt the most.

Ken, who was your roomie and heard about what happened between you and juju,tried getting you out of your hotel room. But you declined again. the only time you went down was when there was barely anyone down at the lobby side.

You couldn't face your teammates after that embarrassing showdown. It made you feel like a failure.

"Come, you'll still have to face everyone when we leave for the arcade, why do you have to be the one embarrassed juju was basically at fault too". She said trying to shake you up.

"She's literally one of the best players of course, what she said is going to get to me, if it was said in private, okay, but she did that in front of everyone". You told her, feeling a cold wind reach your spine.

"For somebody who always steps up for us you sure love discrediting yourself like you also aren't the best out there, juju saying that was nasty and loud for no reason so please get your ass up". Was all Ken said.

This time you did, because fuck juju who clearly had her head far in her ass to see how great of a player you are. and what you bring to the team all those 3s she be pulling must have blinded her vision or what.

"You know what you're right fuck her from now I'll be standing on business, she can go find another bitch to be pissy on cause I'm not the one".

"That's my girl now let's head down, and when you see her, you keep your head high." She told you, pulling you into a tight hug.

But the universe had other plans by slapping you in the face, because as you opened your room door, there was a juju watkins pacing back and forth in front of your door with a messy looking bun that definitely not her brand.

With only one look, you could tell she wasn't the only one who had a bad night.

Normally, you two would fall asleep on call listening to each other's voices as it helps the other person calm down.

It didn't matter if you were states away one block away down the street or rooms separating you guys would still call.

but after what happened last night, you both couldn't bring yourself to pick up that telephone.

And here you both are staring into each other's eyes unable to speak up until a familiar voice does it for you.

"JuJu, what are you doing here?". Ken asked her, crossing her arms over, letting her disapproval be known.

"I know you guys are mad at me rightfully so, but please give me 5 minutes that all I ask for." She said, fidgeting with her hands.

"Five minutes is all you're getting don't think I'm not timing it." She said as she left you both heading downstairs herself.

You and juju stood in that silence for a good two minutes, avoiding eye contact most ju.

"You have three minutes left, so whatever you want to say now,speak up." You said with a mean tone, not glazing any bullshit.

"I know, I messed up really bad and shouldn't have said what I did, you're an amazing player to our team you pick up the pieces whenever everyone seems lost." She started by saying her voice breaking as she fought back tears so she could speak.

"you put the teams needs before your own, your flow on the ball is way different than anyone else and you're a very unique player who contributes so much to the team"

"You're so important to me way beyond being teammates but girlfriends at the same time not only was I a bad teammate but also a bad girlfriend for saying and treating you like that." She told you this time around, able to meet your eyes after avoiding them.

"I just want to apologize because I know that I'm better than that, you deserve better and I want to be the better person you deserve so would you forgive me you don't have to rush it". She finished of by saying.

You we're definitely shocked to see her being so vulnerable and raw to you.

"You really hurt me by saying all those things in front of everyone I felt so embarrassed standing there looking like a fool ju, but that doesn't mean I hate you I'm just really hurt you had me overthinking like I did something wrong when I wanted was to help you". You told her, feeling a little hesitant as you moved your hands to grab hers.

"But that doesn't mean I'm not willing to forgive you". You told.

"I know, baby, take your time can i hug you, though?" She asked you before doing anything. You pulled her into a hug, forgetting about your whole standings on business cause you missed having your 6'2 social awkward girlfriend in your arms.

And that is how you found yourself standing next to her at one of the arcade games because she said she was going to start by winning you a prize. She didn't lie about that one and won the biggest bear in there for you.

Ken was already looking disappointed but was happy that you guys fixed things.

"Couldn't even stand on business for 24h". You heard a voice say.

"Bruh, she's still not fully forgiven how do you expect me to stay that mad at her?". You told her

"Whatever you guys are ruining my mood with your sappyness."

"You're just mad and single Ken it okay you'll find the one". You told her.

On the way back, you both sat down together in the bus, falling asleep on each other. Everything ended up being okay. ju stil has hella groveling to do, but you guys are okay, and that's all that matters.

[iceagegems]

Just spent 40 minutes looking for my drafts, I did find them, so new post is coming but I do feel dumb

[foldingfittedsheets]

I’ve been fired exactly once in my life. In my early twenties I was working at a pizza place. The pizzas were artisanal, thin crust and personal. They’re a huge chain now but when I first started the company was in its infancy. It was the wild west of management, and the core investors would frequently stop by to check on things. One of these people was this round little man with rage issues. A knock off Danny Devito with no charisma at all.

His favorite thing to do was to come in on a Friday or Saturday night. We'd be at our stations: taking orders, making pizza, manning the oven, finishing orders off, running the cash register. He'd shove his way onto the line and start rearranging people. "You, get off orders and work the cash register, you come over and make the pizzas!" With a line of customers snaking out the door he'd throw off all our grooves and rattle us.

Then, inevitably, a mistake would happen.

When it did he'd call the person over and say, "Hey c'mere. You're fired." Just like that. No inflection, just a flat "You're fired." It was absolutely a power kink, and because of his involvement the average turn over was three months. You were a veteran at five months.

One night there was only three of us manning the front. I took an order than went to the cash register to ring them out before I made the pizza. This horrible man watched that then called me into the back. I didn't know if I was about to be fired. But I wasn't. In fact, he had one other move besides firing people. He yelled.

In the back he absolutely lost his mind screaming at me for being on the cash register. I'm talking veins popping, spit flying, red with rage, this man just started bellowing nonsensically about where I should be and how I was just such a failure. It was truly like his brain had shut off, nothing he was saying even made sense. I stood there in the face of this tirade for a minute and then set a record for being the first person to ever cut him short by bursting into tears.

He instantly stopped yelling and it was like Jekyll and Hyde. He was remorseful and consoling, deeply embarrassed by my display of emotion. All my male coworkers just took the abuse but faced with my weeping he about faced and instantly backed off. I went outside to cry and when I came back in he pretended it had never happened.

That was the state of things. The investors knew they desperately needed to keep this man out of the stores, but they couldn't just give him the boot. They needed to move him aside and fill his position with someone. The store manager was this lovely woman who had hired me on the spot at my interview. The entire staff adored her. She was the best fit to get this roided out investor out of the stores for good.

Her replacement was this man called Anthony. He was instantly loathed by the entire staff. Condescending, critical, and lazy he started off his reign by letting go a core lead who "back talked." He spent a whole morning berating the opening crew because the closing crew (who had sold 100 more pizzas than we were even supposed to have on hand) had forgotten to windex the doors. He left the entire crew to close without him while he flirted with a girl who wasn't his pregnant girlfriend. He hired his roommate to replace the lead he fired and even that guy hated his guts.

Our antipathy toward him made him paranoid and resentful and one by one he started finding excuses to fire the whole staff, certain that if he could clean house he'd be able to do the job. My time came, and he sat me down with his boss, my former manager. She cried as he announced I wasn't personable enough and used too many pepperonis.

I looked at her, the woman who had trained me on how many pepperoni to use, but she said nothing. What could she say? He was the boss now and had determined I was going to be let go regardless. Too many in this case was seven. Seven pepperonis on a personal pizza. The correct number was five according to him, which is one pepperoni per slice, and one in the middle.

I sat there for a moment, taking it in. I smiled at my old manager, obviously miserable. I looked back at him and said, "You're a terrible manager, you're doing the worst imaginable job." I outlined some of the things he'd done so she could hear them, then I stood up and left. I made it to the back room before I started crying.

I found out later through a bus boy that he replaced the whole staff with college kids who had such limited availability that the store couldn't run, then quit three months later leaving the whole place in shambles. Most of the old staff returned, but I'd moved onto the sex shop already and was enjoying a job with significantly less risk of being fired on a whim.

However I do have to disclose on job applications if I've ever been fired. I always says yes and list the reason as, "Excessive use of pepperoni." It has never failed to get a laugh from my interviewer.

[sparklingchim]

game on 02 | jjk

pairing: jungkook x reader

word count: 2.9k

genre: footballer!jungkook, fake dating, f2l

rating: 18+

warnings: lots of smoochies !! 🤭, their first kiss <3, umm mentions of jk's infamous threesome again 😔, koo talks abt taking girls in missionary what can i say he is a man

summary: jungkook and you practice acting for the cameras. kissing him feels more right than you anticipated.

a/n: yayy chapter 2 is here!!!! <3 writing this was truly saur much fun n i hope u have fun reading too !!! 😋

read chappie one here

⭒☆━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━☆⭒

"Just kiss me."

"Hold on a second."

"We really need to practise this."

"I know, just give me a minute."

You scoot away from Jungkook on the couch. You were sitting so close, almost about to kiss him actually, but his intense, doe-eyed gaze made you pause, needing a grounding breath.

You’ve never been this close to his face, and somehow, you can’t seem to cross the invisible line that keeps you from just pressing your mouth on his. Jungkook’s your friend, after all. You’ve known him since he was five and once saw him get his head stuck at school, so of course it’s weird.

You press your lips together in an attempt to focus, and lean in again, but once your eyes meet his, a smile urges on your mouth.

"Oh my god." Jungkook’s frustrated sigh cuts the air. "This can’t already be doomed to failure because of a simple kiss."

"It’s not! I just need to mentally prepare myself."

"I feel...offended? Kinda?" Jungkook weaves his fingers through his hair. "I’ve never had to convince someone to kiss me."

"It’s not you. I promise!" you say, reaching for his knee. "Under any other circumstance, if we weren’t friends, I’d love to kiss you. You’re hot and cute, but the situation we’re in makes me feel so stupid. It’s absurd."

Jungkook cringes when you call him cute and removes your hand off his knee.

Yesterday, when Jungkook showed up unannounced, it took him full ten minutes to convince you he wasn’t pulling a prank on you.

Who would believe their friend begging you to fake date them? It’s ridiculous. Only happens in the fictional world.

But then Jungkook showed you the pap picture that was circulating online. The comments and gossip were nasty and you knew he was caught up in a deep mess.

In the photo, Jungkook was surrounded by two girls, his arms draped casually around their waists as they stumbled out of the club, a half-full drink lazily held in his hand. His hair was a tousled mess, likely from the girls running their fingers through it, and the first few buttons of his shirt were undone, revealing a small peek into his defined chest. It was bold, provocative — definitely not the ideal image of a responsible twenty-year-old football rookie.

Probably the worst pap pic you’ve seen of him so far. And the worst timing too.

"You were wasted," you commented, staring at the article he was showing you on his phone.

"And I had so much fun last night." His voice was tinged with frustration, like a child whose favourite toy had just been snatched away. "But then I woke up to this picture, and a flood of missed calls and texts." He rubbed his hands over his face, exhaling sharply. "They just had to ruin it for me."

Noticing your raised eyebrow, Jungkook quickly backtracked. "No, I know it’s my fault too. I shouldn’t have done this right before the World Cup, especially after what I promised. I just hate how everything turns into such a big deal, just because... well, just because I’m me."

The idea of fake dating Jungkook had seemed absurd, something out of a rom-com rather than real life. But the more he explained the pressure he was under, the more you understood why he needed this.

Jungkook was your best friend, and if kissing him in public could save his career, why not help him?

While you got ready for meeting his manager, stepping out of your comfy, rotting-at-home clothes, which consisted of little shorts and an oversized t-shirt (you think it’s actually Jungkook’s, but you’re not quite sure since it’s been in your closet for years now), and slipping into a casual, more presentable outfit, Jungkook busied himself fixing your laundry machine.

Jungkook’s manager knows you well – his entire team does. You are known as Jungkook’s close friend and had been spotted with him on multiple occasions.

Taesung greeted you warmly, though surprise flickered across his face when Jungkook introduced you as the solution to the fake dating plan.

You felt Taesung’s gaze assessing you, weighing your suitability for the role. Jungkook’s PR agent mirrored his scepticism, tilting her head in doubt. They exchanged uncertain glances, which made you nervous, but Jungkook was determined. Jungkook wasn’t Jungkook if he didn’t get what he wanted. With a few persuasive words and his usual charm, he quickly won Taesung over, who sighed and leaned back in his chair, conceding defeat.

"We need to establish the narrative from the start," Taesung said seriously. "The media will dig into your background, and they’ll want to know if there’s anyone else in the picture. So, to be clear, you’re officially single. No boyfriend, no complicated past relationships that could surface. We don’t need any messy stories."

You assured them that there was none. Multiple times. No angry exes, no secret relationships – your personal life was as drama-free as it could get.

Taesung slid a document across the desk.

"This ensures that whatever happens, no details of this arrangement-"

Jungkook’s hand shot out, halting the paper. "No," he said firmly. "She doesn’t need to sign anything."

"Jungkook, it’s just a formality," Jiwoo began, but Jungkook insisted.

"I trust ___. She’s not just anybody. She’s my best friend. If she says she won’t talk, she won’t talk. The NDA isn’t necessary."

"It’s okay," you assured him gently.

Jungkook shook his head. "No, this is ridiculous. You’re not signing a stupid contract."

After more arguing, his manager eventually relented.

Jiwoo outlined the plan in more detail with Taesung – public appearances, social media posts, carefully orchestrated moments that would sell the story to the public. You felt a bit intimidated by the pressure, but you’d get used to it. After all, this arrangement is only for a few months – just until his management can announce that you’d mutually decided to break up on good terms.

But you both need to practise before stepping in front of the cameras.

Which leads you to this moment, a day later, sitting on your couch trying to practice how to act like a couple. And it’s not going well at all.

"Okay, let’s start from the basics then," Jungkook suggests. He rises to his feet, offering you his hand. "Hold my hand."

You gingerly accept his hand, standing up as well.

"See, don’t we look cute?" Jungkook drags you to the mirror. "Or maybe – let’s intertwine our fingers. I think that would look better." He holds your interlaced hands up between the two of you, a satisfied grin plastered on his face. "So cute, right?"

A giggle bubbles in your throat. "You act like you’ve never had a girlfriend."

"Well, it has been a while," he admits, the slightest sulk on his lips. "I’m too busy for relationships." He swings your hands. "The only times I ever hold a girl’s hand is in missionary, above their head when-"

"Jungkook," you interrupt quickly before he can delve any deeper into the story. You give him a mock glare, but there’s no hiding the amusement dancing in your eyes. "Didn’t we both agree on only talking about your bed stories after I’ve had at least one bottle of soju – preferably two, so I can mentally brace myself?"

You love him, you really do, but you don’t want to hear about his bed stories, unless you’re the slightest bit tipsy at first.

"Oh, yeah." He shakes his head apologetically. "Forgot about that."

"Wait, maybe that’s what we should do!" you exclaim as an idea pops into your mind. Your hand slips out of his, and you take a step toward the kitchen. "I think there are a few bottles of soju in the fridge."

"We’re not getting drunk to build up the courage to kiss," he insists. "We shouldn’t need alcohol to pretend we’re into each other."

Jungkook pulls you closer to him, and you stumble slightly, but his hand instinctively moves to the small of your back, steadying you.

"Fine," you sigh dramatically, hand on his chest. "Was just an idea to make this easier for us." The fabric of his shirt is extremely soft and your fingers glide over it.

"I mean, it’s not like we’re complete strangers. And they know it too. We’ve been through enough to pull this off without breaking a sweat."

He’s is right. The public knows you’re one of Jungkook’s closest friends. It wouldn’t be totally unbelievable that you two might have fallen in love.

After all, you’ve always been comfortable with each other —hugging, cuddling during movie nights, play-fight over silly things just to annoy each other. You’ve shared quiet moments, like when you’d fall asleep on his shoulder after a long day or when he’d run his fingers through your hair absentmindedly while you talked. There were times when Jungkook was exhausted and crashed at your place, your fingers gently scratching his head as he slept peacefully. You’ve kissed each other’s cheeks in thanks without hesitation.

Jungkook’s touch isn’t foreign to you.

And still, the thought of acting like you’re in love when you’re not feels strange. Sure, you’ve always been physically close, but this was different. This time, every gesture would be for an audience, every touch would carry a different meaning. It wasn’t just casual anymore.

"I guess," you reply, fiddling with the hem of his oversized t-shirt, avoiding his gaze for a moment. "I think it’s just weird to be this close for show."

Jungkook watches you for a moment, his eyes softening as he considers your words. "Yeah," he murmurs. "But it’s not like we’re faking the friendship part. The rest...we’ll figure out." His fingers clasp your hip, the pads of his fingers gently digging into your flesh. "Don’t think about it too much," he says. "When we have our first public appearance as a couple, pretend like the cameras aren’t there, act nonchalant. Just... y’know. You and me."

You pout, an involuntarily frustrated grumble leaving your lips as you drop your forehead on his chest.

"I hope I’ll do well under all the attention."

You’ve dealt with your fair share of noisy people trying to pry into your relationship with Jungkook, but so far, it’s been somewhat manageable.

"Just you and me," Jungkook repeats, his tone softer and more assured this time. "Nothing can happen to you when I’m there."

You glance up at him, taking in the gentle lines of his face.

"Maybe you should’ve hired a girl that can deal well with attention," you voice your thoughts.

"No." Jungkook’s immediate response rolls off harshly on his tongue. "You were my first thought. I wouldn’t have done this with anyone else but you."

"I was your first choice?" Giddiness makes your face shine.

"Yeah. I don’t think I would’ve felt comfortable with anyone but you."

"Be honest, you just really wanna kiss me."

You stand on your tippy toes, a silly smile spreading across your face.

Jungkook cocks his head to the side, a teasing glint buried in his eyes.

"I think you do."

With a surge of confidence, you take a small step closer, your heart beating a little faster as you close the gap between you and Jungkook. Your lips meet in a gentle, fleeting touch. The contact only lasts for a moment before you pull back, your eyes searching his for a reaction.

"That was a smooch. Not a kiss."

You frown upon hearing him complain.

"What, you want to make out with me in public?"

Jungkook sniffs a laugh. "No, but maybe a little more than how fifth graders kiss."

"You’re a kissing expert now?" you quip back, narrowing your eyes at him.

Jungkook leans in slightly. "I just know what I like."

The challenge in his voice sparks something in you. "Then show me how you like it."

His gaze drops to your lips, and a flutter of excitement spreads in your tummy. It’s unexpected and thrilling and it catches you off guard.

Jungkook’s hand, which had been resting on your back, slowly glides up, his fingers curling around the side of your face, his thumb brushing delicately against your cheekbone.

Your breath hitches as he leans in. His lips meet yours again, but this time there’s more weight behind the contact – still soft, but deeper, more intentional. His lips move slowly and there’s a warmth to it, a tenderness that makes your heart race even as the kiss remains gentle. He tilts his head slightly, deepening the connection just enough to make you melt into him.

The teasing atmosphere lingers in the back of your mind, but for now, it’s pushed aside by the gentle pressure of his lips on yours.

Kissing Jungkook doesn’t feel weird – which makes it a little weird.

When you both finally pull back, it’s gradual. You can feel his breath, warm and steady, mingling with your own.

"Like that," he whispers, his voice barely audible, yet it sends a shiver down your spine. "You’re a good kisser."

You pull back completely. "Excuse me?" you say. "You were doubting my kissing abilities?"

"No, not at all!" Jungkook shakes his head, amusement crinkling his eyes as he gazes at your sulky face. "You’re just a very good kisser. Like, super gentle and smooth."

Heat crawls up your cheeks. You ignore the flush of warmth and keep your composure. "Have you been using the lip balm I got you? Your lips are soft."

"I know, right? Not chapped at all anymore."

He traces two fingers along his bottom lip and your eyes follow the motion, finding yourself inexplicably drawn to his lips.

"Are we done practising?"

"Do you think we looked natural?" Jungkook’s hand slips into yours once more. While he is focused on the mirror, adjusting the way your bodies fit together – tugging you closer, alternating between holding your hand and interlacing your fingers – your mind is still replaying the memory of the tender press of his lips. "For me, it felt pretty natural. Not awkward at all. What do you think?"

It’s the simplicity with which he says it that draws a short laugh out of you.

The sound grabs his attention. "What?"

"You’re just...extremely serious about this. I don’t think they’ll analyse the way we hold hands, Kook."

"But that’s their favourite thing to do," Jungkook replies. "The gossip mills love analysing every step you take, where your eyes wander, who you smile at." A note of bitterness threads through his words.

He’s been playing pro for just two years and has fallen victim to greedy people intruding on his life so many times already. Former friends who leaked private conversations, acquaintances who turned their brief interactions into tabloid fodder, even strangers who felt entitled to a piece of him just because he was in the public eye.

Jungkook searched for solace and silence at your place many times, trying to escape the madness. In the quiet of your dorm, breathing felt easier.

You never asked questions, never pried. In a world where everyone seemed out to get something from him, you just let him be, offering him the comfort of your presence without demanding anything in return.

"People were just criticising this dude – ah, who was it again?" Jungkook stares at the ceiling, raking through his thoughts. "I can’t remember his name, but this guy was getting called out for choosing the booth seat while making his girlfriend sit in the aisle seat."

"The aisle seat? Come on, it’s an unwritten rule that-" You fall silent once you catch Jungkook’s pointed expression. "I mean, yeah. It’s definitely wrong to make a big deal about it. Maybe she prefers sitting there," you shrug.

"But do you see what I mean?" he asks. "Whether you intend to or not, you’re always judging what others do. And that judgement only intensifies when it involves a celebrity."

"Ah, when did you become so famous Jeon Jungkook?" You sigh, looking down at your linked hands.

"I know, right? Two years ago, no one would’ve cared if I had a threesome." He shakes his head in disbelief. "And now I am being punished for it—kicked off the national team, and my best friend has to save me by fake dating me."

"I feel like this would make a good movie," you giggle.

“We have to practise hard, then," he says.

You pull your phone from your pocket. "What if we film ourselves kissing so we can monitor it better?" You set up your phone on a nearby shelf and position yourselves in front of the camera. "Don’t engaged couples do this? I feel like we’re practising for our wedding kiss."

"Oh, butterflies."

"Huh?" You stare at the way he holds his hand against his tummy.

"You just told me you want to marry me. That gave me butterflies."

You slap his arm. "Stop being silly, we have a whole nation to fool that we’re in love."

~

Hang outs with Jungkook often end with the two of you lounging on the couch, snacks scattered everywhere, and a movie playing on the TV.

"Next one?" Jungkook asks from his spot beside you, inching closer with his pleading doe eyes.

You try to push him away by the, but he doesn’t budge.

"I need to study. Like, for real." You had warned him before starting the movie, agreeing to watch only one, but he still tried his luck.

He holds up one finger. "Just one."

You push him off your body, and this time he allows it, his back slumping against the couch. The grumble of complaint in his throat gets muffled by his pursed lips.

"You’re smart. The material is probably set in your brain anyway. No need to revise anything."

You scoff at his bratty words.

"So you won’t ever need to ditch hangouts for football practice because you’re already so good at it?"

"Well, no." He drags the word out, brows furrowed as he considers your question, trying to come up with a reasonable answer. "But I know you don’t need to study as much as you do. You’re just naturally smart."

"I wish, but I ace my exams because I study as much as I do."

"Aish," Jungkook mutters, standing up from the couch and stretching his limbs. His toned tummy peeks out from under his lifted shirt.

"Karina will be home soon anyway," you say. "And I’m not ready to play pretend in front of her yet." The thought of confessing to your roommate that Jungkook is now your boyfriend makes you shudder.

It was one of the conditions that made you briefly reconsider if you could really pull this off or if Jungkook should find another girl. You didn’t just have to act in front of the cameras – everyone had to believe that you and Jungkook are a couple, including your friends and family. You dread the day you have to tell your parents.

You know they once secretly hoped Jungkook would become your boyfriend when you were older, but as he became famous and the public started scrutinising his every move, your parents grew wary of his wild, reckless side.

You follow Jungkook to the door.

"You think she’ll believe us?"

"I dunno," you shrug. "Not sure if she’ll buy it. She’ll probably be suspicious since I’ve never talked about you in that way when we gossip, but I think we’ve practised enough to at least make it look like we love each other."

Jungkook nods and hugs you briefly. "We’ll figure it out." He steps out of your apartment, typing on his phone. "My manager sent me details about our first public appearance." He scans the text, but quickly looks up at you again with an annoyed frown. "Ah, so many words. I’ll just forward you the messages." With a sweet smile and a quick wave, he starts to leave, but you tug at the back of his shirt.

You cup his face, pulling him down to you, and plant a kiss on his lips.

"You’re my boyfriend now. Act like it."

[daughter-of-sapph0]

capitalism is a failure of a system and need to be completely abolished

>store says they're hiring

>50 people apply

>30 don't hear back from them

>19 get told they "don't meet the qualifications"

>one single person gets hired

>store gives them way to much work for one person

>new employee says that they need to hire more people

>"what are you talking about? we have enough people working in your department"

>but no you actually don't. you have one single person working at a time. I only work mornings, every single morning. other guy only works afternoons, every single afternoon. what happens when one of us is sick?

>also, what if I'm busy with something else like stocking, and a customer needs my help? what then? you're asking me to work five people's jobs at once. so either pay me five times my salary or hire four other people

>"no. you're fired"

mfw

>go to that store later to buy something

>no one is working at the department I worked at

>end up waiting 40 minutes to buy something

>don't blame the cashier. he was pulled away to do something else. it's the bosses fault for not hiring more people

>as I leave there are "we're hiring" signs plastered all over the door

what a fucking load of massive bull shit

[ynbabe]

Cute situations w/ f1 drivers- ep2. part 2

Asking the drivers if they 'wanna nap?'

PT-1 w/Charles, Carlos, Lando, Oscar, George, Lewis, Lance & Fernando

Max

You had just gotten off the phone with your mother, so obviously tears were stinging your eyes and the urge to punch a wall was getting stronger by the minute. Unfortunately, you weren't the only one dealing with less-than-loving parents.

"But that's not fair, no one's perfect, I've won five out of eight races," He yelled into the phone to a louder voice responding from the other end. Max looked defeated, with red under his eyes and hair sticking up where he dragged his hands through it.

"No, I didn't fucking let them win, it's their job too," he stood right by the door, slamming it behind him, "Whatever, bye," he cut the call, standing still for a few seconds, glaring at his phone, knowing him debating between throwing it at a wall or stomping on it.

"Wanna nap?" You asked him, setting your phone on the coffee table and letting yourself fall face first on to the hotel bed. Max followed suit, one arm over your waist.

“Damn, can you imagine if we swapped places as kids?” You thought out loud as sleep neared making Max scoff.

He turned to you and in a dead serious tone replied, “Y/n/n, you’d be a serial killer and I’d probably be in jail, now let me sleep, you’re warm,” The man’s response was screech worthy, making you want to smack him but for once, he was right, you were very warm and cuddly and so was he, a fight could wait, sleep was now.

Logan

“LOGAN!” You screamed, knocking on his hotel room door, hoping the man would hurry to answer.

You couldn’t believe the man had launched an entire app without even giving you a hint! You were so proud of him and you couldn’t wait to celebrate. You waited to see his smiling face, knowing you were going to shower him with praises and way too many hugs but when he opened the door, his demeanour was nothing like you had expected.

“Dude didn’t you just launch an app? Why the no good sad face?” You asked as you walked in past him.

He sighed as he sat on his bed, working away at his laptop and a hundred pages spread out. You couldn’t help but frown.

“Logan, Logan,” you called out, ultimately pulling the boys head to face yours, “what the fuck mate, you should be happy right now, what’s wrong?” You asked, disturbed that your happy go lucky, it is what it is friend was so sullen.

“The cars fucked, I have no future, my team fucking hates me, my best and only friend literally never talks to me and I feel like a fucking failure,” he went of on you, slamming his laptop shut making you flinch.

You stared unimpressed at his little charade to keep you away, unfortunately you had grown up with the man and knew his tantrums and breakdowns, “First of all, your only friend? What am I chopped liver? Secondly, James Vowles can fuck off for all I care, you deserve so much better then that ratchet ass team, thirdly you just launch your own app, need I go on?” You presented embodying your inner George Russell as you picked Logan’s laptop and papers off his bed.

“But still-” his face was still down and he continued to doubt himself.

“Look,” you say next to him, holding his hand in yours, “it’s been a tough few years, not gonna lie, but you’re going to pull through cause you are one of the most talented people I know,” you squeezed his hand, “also you can’t give up because you promised you’d get rich and pay for everything.” You shrugged and pulled him to lay on the bed.

He huffed, smacking a pillow on your face, “so that’s why you’re friends with me? Not my dazzling personality? How could you? This is a betrayal, I’m betrayed,” he joked, finally getting back to his normal self, but you were still worried about him.

You turned to the man enveloping him in your arms, the man immediately returning the favour immediately. You let yourself fall into a comfortable sleep, telling yourself to do this more often.

Daniel

“Hey, are you busy?” Daniel had said softly as he entered your room immediately raising red flags in your mind, never once hand the man been so quiet. You quickly put away your stuff on the night stand patting the spot on the bed next to you to let him sit.

“Yeah, is everything okay? You look tired, Danny,” you asked to nothing but silence from the man. A few seconds passed and you could see how wet his eyes were.

“Dan-”

“I’m so tired y/n/n,” he spoke in a hoarse whisper, scaring you, what did he mean by that? “I’m just, I can’t, I’m doing everything I can and it isn’t enough, I- I,” he tried speaking but he couldn’t without choking.

You tired not to cry with him, the only man you’d always known to be laughing and happy even in the worst of circumstances, keeping everyone’s spirits up was sitting here in front of you, so hopeless.

You didn’t think twice before pulling him in a hug, cradling him as you both sank into a laying position. “You’re tired, mate, let’s take a nap, it’ll be okay Danny, I promise, it’s going to be fine,” you whispered into his hair making him nod.

You felt him drift off as the tears slowed down and you couldn’t help passing out in the warmth either knowing when you wake up you’d find a way to make the man himself again.

Yuki

“Can I please marry you?” You begged for what seemed the tenth time that day much to Yuki’s irritation.

“I am never cooking for you ever again,” he complained falling onto the sofa next to you, watching the sitcom tv rather than paying attention to you.

“Please, you know you loved the tiramisu I made,” you boasted, opening up a button on your shirt to allow you to breath. The amount of food you and Yuki had consumed for individuals of your sizes were seriously guiness worthy.

He whined knowing you had won that argument, “fine but I want the recipe as a wedding gift,” he joked making the both of you laugh.

“Dude I’m ready to go into a food coma for the next ten fucking years,” you confessed, making the man nod in agreement.

“I’ve eaten enough for the next damn week.”

“We should nap,” you spoke out loud, turning to the man next to you, “wanna nap?”

“Yup,” he immediately answered to which you both pounced on either ends of the sofa, shifting into comfortable positions, making sure neither was kicking the other, his legs on the coffee table pulled close to the sofa and yours curled up closed to you.

Pierre

“Fuck me,” you groaned as another one of your projects fell through. You threw your phone on the table in front of you, sighing as you did.

“Do mind if I do,” joked an irritating grating voice from behind you, from your bed, you had honestly forgotten your friend had been there after another pissy fight with his sweetheart teammate.

“Keep talking Gasly, I’ll call Ocon over make it a threesome,” you laughed as you joined him, pushing him to one side to make space.

The man looked honestly disgusted, “I can’t believe you’d stoop low enough to even joke about that, standards babe, standards,” he scoffed looking at you judgementally to which you rolled your eyes.

“Damn I guess we won’t be making love, sad, I was actually going to agree for once, I’ll just ask Estie then” you fake sighed, feigning disappointment, much to the other man’s horror.

“Shut up, Y/n,” he knocked your shoulder with his after he saw your grin, fighting a yawn as you pushed him back.

“Do you wanna nap?” You asked, equally tired and dejected about your failed project, he nodded and pulled the both of you into a more comfortable position, turning in to face you, burying his face in your neck and you let your hand play with his silky blonde locks, falling into a comfortable sleep.

Esteban

“BITCH, YOU WILL NOT BELIVE THE SHIT I’VE JUST SEEN-” you yelled as you ran into Esteban’s driver room, seeing him lying on the makeshift bed.

You immediately jumped in next to him, waking him up in a startle, “MERDE! Y/n?” He yelled in fear and then confusion, looking around as if a swat team had burst in, “what is wrong with you?” He screeched as he pulled his hands over his face in exhaustion, “you’re a worse gossip than Pierre,” he grunted lying back down.

You animatedly threw yourself down next to him, using his arm as a pillow. “I abhor that accusation, actually,” you grumbled but gave in nonetheless, “okay so look at this photo and tell me what you see,” you showed his your phone, a photo you’d gotten out of a greedy paparazzi’s hand as a media control agent in Mercedes.

The man next to you suddenly seemed much more awake, “Is that Nico fucking Rosberg?” He whisper- yelled into your ears, snatching the phone out your hands.

“Yup,” you grinned popping the p, “bought that shit for eleven thousand dollars,” he whistled, “that was taken at 4 am at Lewis’s hotel,” you whispered, turning your body to face his.

“Oh my god,” he laughed, “I thought these were rumours?” He asked gleefully.

“Nope, this isn’t even the first time I’ve had to do damage control,” you sighed, trying to get your phone back but it was pulled away by the taller man.

“You mean there’s gossip you haven’t told me? Your best friend, whose room you’re currently hiding in? Interrupting my nap time?”

“You, Estie, are such a drama queen,” you teased him, pulling your phone out of his hand. “And we can definitely nap, I spent all night trying to convince that asshole to drop the story,” you kept you phone in your pocket as Esteban made himself comfortable, both of you letting yourselves rest after the tiring day you had.

Zhou

“How are you not broke?” The man yelled in astonishment as he saw at the amount of bags in the Prada assistants hands, choosing to ignore his own in another’s, he was allowed to spend he technically was a millionaire, even without his family and sponsors.

You looked at him with raised brows as you opened the doors your apartment building, you and Zhou both owning the penthouses, yours above his.

You let the men drop the bags off on your floor, keeping Zhou waiting, making him annoyed to your amusement. When the men finally left you simply answered, “Samsung shares.”

Zhou groaned “Spoilt child,” and headed into the guest suite as you headed into your room, “look whose talking I have my own assistant at the mall,” you called out behind you. That had been funny, the man followed Zhou to every shop, holding the bags you both collected till you needed another.

You both walked out and showed each other the clothes and accessories you had bought, occasionally swapping one or two. As the day progressed into late evening you called for food, tired from the little fashion show you had.

“I need a nap,” you groaned, folding your feet as you sat on the dinning table chair.

“My legs are killing me,” Zhou agreed, not only had he had a terrible work out in the morning but you both had covered way more than 10,000 steps in that mall.

“Want to nap?” You offered, knowing very well he could just go a floor below to his own home.

“Sure, turn on screen mirroring on your tv, I’ll show you the drivers chat,” he said heading into your room and you ran behind him with glee.

The gossip was the best part of being friends with Zhou, that and the really warm cuddles he gave, “oh my god, Charles and Max again?” You laughed and leaned on his shoulders as he relayed all the details to you, his voice slowly softening as you both drifted into a peaceful sleep.

[brehaaorgana]

ADHD money/budgeting system I'm currently using for my benefit is going well (I've been using it for like half a year now?), and I wanna recommend it.

You Need a Budget is EXCELLENT. 10/10 do recommend. Uhhh rambling about it and my generic disclaimers + gushing extensively under the cut but TL;DR I think it's great for ADHD ppl, I've used it for 6+ months now and I find it super SUPER helpful. also weirdly fun.

DISCLAIMERS:

Budgeting helps you understand/know your money, it can't make money appear where there is none.

Everyone should learn to budget even if you don't have much money (especially then)

This is NOT a magic trick solution. Just like everything else, it is an assistive tool. This is one of those adult things we can't simply opt out of without negative consequences, though.

My advice is based on something I am currently able to do. That is, I can spend an amount of money on this specific thing that works well for me. If you have no extra money to spend then previously I was tracking things in a notebook. So you can still do this.

I believe Dave Ramsey is a fundie fraud/hack and no one should listen to him about money.

DID YOU KNOW THEY CANCELLED MINT???

Okay? OKAY.

Ahem.

You Need a Budget is EXCELLENT.

It is called YNAB for short. The first 34 days are your free trial, and that is my referral link. If anyone uses it and then signs up for a subscription, we both get a month free. Also you can share a subscription with up to six people (account owner can see everything but individuals can pick and choose what they share amongst each other) so like...idk your whole polycule can be on one account. Or your kids. Whatever.

If you are a student, it's free for a year. If you aren't, a subscription is $99 for a year (paid all at once) or $14.99 monthly, which is equivalent to paying Amazon prime. Go cancel Prime and get this instead tbh.

They got a whole article just on ynab and ADHD. They also have like...a big variety of ways to access their info? They have a book, podcast episodes, YouTube videos, blog posts, q&A's, free live workshops you can join (you can request live captioning), emails they can send (if you want) a wiki, and so on. They got workshops on all kinds of topics!!

So whatever ends up working for your brain. It also has a matching app.

If you lost Mint this year they have a gajillion things for moving from Mint.

Also they have a "got five minutes?" Page which has a slider so you can decide how much attention/time you have before going on lol:

They only have 4 rules of the budget, they're simple and practical, and it doesn't get judgey or like...mean about your spending.

1. Give every dollar a job 2. Embrace your true expenses 3. Roll with the punches 4. Age your money.

THEN THEY BREAK THESE DOWN INTO SMALL STEPS FOR YOU! They even have a printable! Also these rules are great because there's built in expectations that things WILL HAPPEN and it's NOT all or nothing with a fear of total collapse into failure. Reality and The Plan don't always align, especially if you have ADHD. So it's directing our energy towards the true expenses and not clinging to The Plan!! over reality.

You can automate a lot of shit (you can sync with your bank accounts just like mint, but also automate tagging the categories of regular expenses/transactions). And if for whatever reason you accidentally do something that makes the budget look weird or wrong:

A) you can usually fix it somehow OR b) they have like, a button you can press that gives you a clean slate and archives the previous version of the budget for you.

So if you forget for a few weeks or months, or accidentally input something wildly wrong, or just don't want to look at a really terrible month anymore and feel like you need a fresh start you can usually either fix it or start fresh which is really nice.

The app also (for whatever reason) scratches my itch to have things like...have incentives or little game-like goals in a way mint never did? I don't know why. Filling up the bars or putting money into the categories to cover my expenses is satisfying lmao. You can also make a big wish expense category for all the fun shit you want, and fund it whenever you can and then you can see the little bar go up and that's fun.

Anyways I've been using it for like 6+ months now and I think it's really helped me when I use it.

[serickswrites]

Hold Back the River

Warnings: captivity, torture, restraints, forced to watch, water boarding, cruel whumper, self sacrifice, defiant whumpee, strangulation, unclear character status

"Caretaker, no matter what happens don't cry. If you cry they will hurt you. I can't let that happen."

Whumpee had said that hours ago when they had struck up a deal with Whumper that would keep Caretaker physically unharmed. Whumper had agreed enthusiastically on the condition that Caretaker not cry or else the bargain was null and void. Caretaker had tried to voice their protest, but Whumpee spoke over them, agreeing. Whumpee didn't want anything to happen to Caretaker.

But as they watched Whumper move from various methods of torture, leaving Whumpee weak and in pain, Caretaker felt they were fighting to hold back the river of tears that was threatening to overwhelm them. But they couldn't cry. Whumpee had asked them not to.

"Now, Whumpee," Whumper drawled as they tipped over the chair they had lashed Whumpee to, "you have done so well. You haven't begged me to stop once."

"You call this torture? I've had so much worse," Whumpee shot back weakly from the ground. Caretaker could see Whumpee was trembling. But they didn't let on that they were suffering. Caretaker knew Whumpee had to be suffering.

Whumper frowned. "I highly doubt that. Needless to say, I'm going to modify our bargain."

"So not only are you a shitty torturer, you can't even your own bargains. How disgraceful," Whumpee said as they glared up at Whumper. But Caretaker knew better. Caretaker knew that Whumpee was now very afraid.

"No. I'm making you a better bargain, Whumpee. I still won't hurt Caretaker. I keep my word. No, I'm going to make you a bargain that benefits you."

"I'm listening," Whumpee said carefully.

"In all my years working on people, I have never seen anyone not break under this next method. I doubt you will be the one to not break, before you get any ideas. You just have to last five minutes. Five whole minutes without begging. If you do that, I'll let both of you go."

"Deal."

Caretaker's heart was pounding. What did Whumper want to do to Whumpee? They opened their mouth to protest, but Whumper spoke again. "I'm going to give you three tries, Whumpee. Three tries to make it to five minutes. If you make it to five, you're free to go."

"Just get it over with, Whumper, I want to go home. I'm sure Caretaker does, too."

Whumper tossed a towel over Whumpee's face and re-angled the chair. Caretaker's mouth went dry as they realized Whumper planned to waterboard Whumpee. There was no way Whumpee would make it to five minutes.

Whumper grabbed a hose and aimed it at Whumpee's face. "Oh, and Whumpee? If you don't make it to five minutes, I'm going to keep you here until your body gives out. So, give it your best shot. I doubt you'll even last two minutes."

And they turned the water on.

Whumpee sputtered and choked as the water blasted their face. Caretaker strained against their own restraints trying to get to Whumpee. "PLEASE! DON'T YOU'RE KILLING THEM!" Caretaker screamed.

"See how they beg for you, Whumpee? Don't worry, I won't count their begging against you. Thirty seconds now, how are you feeling?"

Whumpee choked and coughed. "Stop," they rasped at last.

Whumper grinned as they turned off the water. "One try down. Total failure on your part. You didn't even make it a minute. I'll let you catch your breath."

Caretaker could see Whumpee's chest heaving as they struggled to breathe under the wet towel. "Whumpee, Whumpee. Say something! Please!"

"'m fine, Careta'er," Whumpee mumbled.

"If you have enough breath to speak, we can begin again." Whumper said as they turned the hose back on.

Whumpee lasted two minutes that time. Their whole body was shaking and they were sobbing as the water was turned off. Hearing Whumpee's cries of pain and terror made Caretaker's eyes well up once more. But they couldn't cry. They had to stay strong for Whumpee. Whumpee had bargained for their safety. They couldn't let that be in vain.

"Two minutes, not bad, Whumpee. Not bad." Whumper stared down at Whumpee with a maniacal glint in their eye. "But still not close enough to five. I'm going to enjoy destroying your body over these next few weeks. Maybe I'll still let Caretaker go when your body gives out. Maybe I'll keep them and force them to watch you to decay. Who knows?"

Whumpee made a low moan in their throat as Whumper spoke. The sound broke Caretaker's heart. Whumpee was fighting against impossible odds for their life. Whumper was beyond cruel.

"Ok, Whumpee, final attempt. Make it a good one. Or not," Whumper smirked as they turned the water back on.

Whumpee sputtered and choked, but they didn't speak. Caretaker could see their clenched fists shaking. But as the first minute went by, Whumpee held strong. Then the second minute went by and Whumpee still didn't speak.

After the third minute, Caretaker began to hope. Whumpee could do this. They would both be free. And then they could take care of Whumpee. They owed their life to Whumpee and they would spend the rest of their life repaying Whumpee.

"Four minutes now, Whumpee, you're doing impressively. Honestly, this is the longest I've seen anyone make it. But I doubt you will make it to five."

Whumpee's whole body began to shake at Whumper's words. But still, they didn't cry out. They continued to cough and choke, their breathing growing more and more ragged.

Whumper frowned. "You have twenty seconds to go, Whumpee. Remember not only your freedom, but Caretaker's freedom rides on this. You'll be letting them down any moment now."

Caretaker's heart fluttered in their chest. Hope built until they felt they couldn't contain it anymore. Whumpee was going to do it. They would both be free. Whumper wouldn't kill Whumpee today.

"Five.....four.....three.....two.....one. Impress--"

"For the love of God, please!" Whumpee cried out at last.

Whumper smirked as they turned off the water. "Congratulations, Whumpee. You survived five whole minutes of waterboarding."

Whumpee didn't say anything as they retched and coughed. And though Caretaker knew they should feel elated, Whumper's smirk and strangely happy demeanor had their blood running cold.

Whumper pulled back the towel off Whumpee's face. They knelt close and stared down into Whumpee's terror filled eyes. "Too bad you won't get to tell anyone what it was like." Whumper grabbed by the neck and began to strangle Whumpee.

"STOP! YOU'RE KILLING THEM! YOU SAID YOU WOULD FREE BOTH OF US!" Caretaker screamed as they watched Whumpee struggle weakly beneath Whumper. Whumpee's eyes were wide with fear, their mouth opening and closing as they desperately begged for air.

"I did say I will free both of you. And I will. I just never said if they would be alive when they were freed."

Tags: @mousepaw @jumpywhumpywriter @knightinbatteredarmor @hufflepuffwritingstuff2 @anightmarishwhump

@steh-lar-uh-nuhs @celestialsoyeon @st0rmm @ay5ksal @pedro-pedro-pedro-pedro-pe

@pepeniascat

[novankenn]

Cinder: (Swings door open quickly ignoring the note.) My Queen! Those brats have broke into the castle we must stop!

(Pauses while looking at the scene)

Jaune: (His head on Weiss's lap as she runs her fingers though his hair) Alyx was a brat but she still was like family she didn't deserve what that cat did.

Salem: I understand life is usually cruel. Now tell me more about this Curious Cat.

Cinder: WTF?!?

Cinder stalked through the halls and corridors of EverNight Castle. Her twin obsidian blades ready to strike down the intruders... if she could find them. Normally she would have zeroed in on the sounds of conflict and combat, but there was none. The grimm she passed, when she did come across them were just wandering about aimlessly, that was if they weren't sitting or laying down.

So without the sounds of a fierce pitched battle to guide her, Cinder was forced to actually search for the interlopers... who she knew was team RWBY and their friends.

Cinder: This is RIDICULOUS! I must ask my queen for help, to locate these brats.

Cinder made a turn at the next corner and stomped her way toward the throne room. She emerged from one of the side halls into the main corridor and turned towards her destination. Five minutes later she stood there before the large double doors... in total shock.

Cinder: I...

A Beowulf, dressed in a tasteful skirt and blouse ensemble, matched with a set of sensible heels, and topped off with a pearl necklace, and a pair of wire rim glasses... stood before the doors baring her entry.

Cinder: I...

The Beowulf pointed to a sign near the door, well a set of signs in fact. It took ever ounce of her will power to draw her eyes off the figure before her, and look at the signs.

(1) If the doors are closed there is either a meeting or session in progress. Unless it is an EMERGENCY no admittance.

(2) Sessions are by appointment ONLY.

(3) This is a ZERO TOLERANCE work place. Anyone causing a disturbance, or harassing staff will be asked to leave. Failure to do so will cause the authorities to be summoned.

(4) I am the boss, but my secretary is in charge. If she says NO then it's NO. There are no exceptions.

Cinder: Secretary?

The Beowulf nodded its head and using a metal ruler tapped the desk name plate.

Cinder: Grendelsa Grimmsald, Executive Assistant to Doctor Salem Salem?

The Beowulf who Cinder now knew was named Grendelsa nodded.

Cinder: But, I...

Grendelsa: *Grunt like growl*

Cinder: I know I don't have an appointment, but this is an emergency! The castle is under attack! I must speak to Queen...

Grendelsa: *Growl like grunt*

Cinder: I mean Doctor Salem.

Grendelsa pointed to a set of rather comfy looking waiting room chairs, and Cinder knew instantly she had no choice. So she sat down, and after a few seconds wiggled her butt into the plush cushioning getting more comfortable.

Cinder dozed off, and awoke with a start at the sound of the door opening.

Salem: I understand it is quiet the commute so I will have Grendelsa arrange for some accommodations for you, as in my opinion there is a need to have a few more sessions over the next week before I feel confident that we can space them out further. Is that acceptable Ms Schnee? Mr Arc?

Weiss: More than. Thank you for your hospitality, and all your help.

Cinder shot to her feet, her eyes wide in shock. Salem, her queen. Malevolent Evil Incarnate was in a black pant suit, wearing glasses and SHAKING HANDS with the SCHNEE who was holding the hand of the blond wanna-be knight from Beacon!

Jaune: I still don't...

Salem: It's alright Mr Arc. These things take time, and we progress at the pace that you set. There is no rushing this. Your mental health is very important, and with Ms Schnee's support and my assistance we will help you find resolutions.

Weiss: Can we give it a couple more sessions Jaune? I really do think this is good for you, me and us.

Jaune: Okay. I'll try a few more times.

Salem: Excellent. Grendelsa will make all the...

Cinder: WHAT THE FUCK IT THIS!!!!

Salem: Ms Fall. Those types of outbursts are not acceptable!

Cinder: WHAT THE FUCK, SALEM? THEY'RE FROM BEACON! THEY'RE YOUR ENEMIES!

Salem: Lower your voice or you will be escorted out.

Cinder: WHAT ARE YOU DOING!?!?!? ARE YOU GIVING THEM THERAPY???

Salem: You were warned Ms Fall. Ms Grimmslad if you please...

/==/

Twenty minutes later Cinder found herself sitting outside of the main gate of EverNight Castle, right next to Ruby Rose, Yang Xiao Long, and Blake Belladonna.

Ruby: You get kicked out too?

Cinder: ...

[bringmeanangel]

One Too Many

Pairing: Spencer Reid and Reader Tags/warning: Overwhelmed reader. small Anxiety attack. crying. feeling like a failure. Spencer Reid being the best boyfriend ever. established relationship. Synopsis: Working in theatre, filling out a bunch of applications. Having things under control falls apart when one more potential application pops up. A/N: Based off of my life and basically what happened five minutes ago. If only I had a Spencer to calm me down.

You love how much your boyfriend supports you with your art. You work in theatre and this year you told yourself that you were just going to apply to things, no matter how daunting those forms were.

Some of the forms were a bit of a doozy, but Spencer was always there to make sure that you took a break of ate something.

One festival, you saw that the deadline was that day at 9pm and you had discovered it at 3pm. You looked ay everything and thought nah. Then you decided "screw it" and in two and a half hours you sent in that application.

Sometimes your mom gives of the wrong kind of energy, almost desperation, which is why you don't tell her about these two forms your working. You don't really tell your friends even. It's more because it's a superstitious thing.

Spencer though, you tell him. He always encourages you, even if he's not totally sure how it works, he's just happy to see you happy and excited.

Today however, you had two on going applications, both deadlines were in two weeks and you were working on them little by little. Then, your mom emailed you something.

She called you and told you about this opportunity to work at a festival in your town and that you should apply. You clicked on the link and saw that the deadline was in four days.

You took a sharp breath which caught Spencer's attention. He was reading and you were at the table working.

"Are you alright?" he knew that breath. That was your anxiety.

"Yeah. My mom just sent me something that if I wanted to do it, it's do in four days" you voice was shaky.

"Do you want to do it?" you heard the concern in his voice.

"i'm not sure. I'm going to at least look at it."

You turned your attention back to your computer, Spencer kept an eye on you.

You started reading about the job. It was a festival coordinator and producer.

*Another sharp breath*

You kept reading. If you took it, you would have to be available for the festivals, which would mean that if the two festivals you really wanted to do, you might not be able to do.

Getting into the other festivals that you wanted wasn't a sure thing, but you would have to accept this job before you knew about them.

*Another sharp breath*

Spencer had put his book down when he heard the second sharp breath and watched you. The third sharp breath, he saw you tense and you looked pale.

Spencer stood up and went over to you. He wrapped his arm across your chest, so you could lean agaisnt his arm. His thumb firmly started to rub up and down the side of your neck and you burst into tears.

"Oh, angel" he soothed, his heart breaking for you.

You held onto his arm, eyes shut tight, focusing on his thumb, massaging your neck. Spencer took this to quickly read over everything.

The pay was good, but if this was your response to just looking at the job requirement, and Spencer knew you pretty well, so he knew this wasn't your thing; then he knew you shouldn't even apply.

"I'm going to close it." he murmured in your ear, waiting for you to say okay.

"Bu-but my- the other ones are a sure thing. I hav-have a good feeling, but that's dumb. This-this I" you tried to talk.

Spencer gently shushed you, his other hand coming up to stroke your hair.

"deep breath, love. Come on. In 2-3-4" he said and you did. "hold. and out 2-3-4" he soothed and you did.

He repeated that two more times, now rubbing his hand up and down your back, still having his arm wrapped around you, to keep you feeling safe.

"I told myself that I would apply to everything." you looked disappointed at yourself.

"I know, love, but it's okay to not apply to this one."

"But if I don't- and my sister finds out, she's going to tell me I'm stupid for not trying."

"Do you want to apply to this?" he asked and you shook your head. "That's okay. You're not stupid for not doing it. You're applying to two more things, that they don't know about. You've done so much this month and it's only January."

"I guess." you said letting go of his arm and wiping your tears.

"You should be so proud of yourself. You have two applications that you're really looking forward too. So focus on those." you nodded.

"I'm going to close it and then you don't ever have to think about it."

You nodded and Spencer closed the tab. You wrapped your arms around his waist and he cradled your head with one hand and rubbed your back with the other.

"Come on, angel, lets go lay down for a bit."

You nodded and let him lead you to your shared bedroom.

[yet-another-heathen]

Wick's Whump Drive - I

This is a commissioned piece for @light-me-on-pyre, who was kind enough to participate in my ongoing whump drive for Palestinian aid.

Want in? Donate $5/€5 or more to ANY Palestinian fundraiser, send me the receipt, and I'll write a custom whump drabble for you, too.

Prompt: "How would you write deconditioning?"

[ My lessons on how to write realistic conditioning can be found here. ]

---

TW | realistic whump recovery, emotional whump, brief argument, PTSD, flashbacks, intentional deconditioning attempt, implied past character death (whumper)

It wasn't the word itself this time. It was the way Caretaker said it.

"Kneel."

Whumpee went down hard. The mental cursing began when his knees were about two inches from hitting the ground. Too late to stop the movement. Plenty of time to hate himself for following through.

Where his knees hit, the jarring spike of stacking bruises felt like a punch. Failure.

Another. Fucking. Failure.

Whumpee groaned in frustration, hands balling in his hair. Then he was on his feet again, pacing. "Again."

"Whumpee, I think we've had enough for toni—"

"No! No, I need to try again! I have to get this right just once before I stop." He turned again on his heel, leaving another path in the carpet. "We keep going. I just— I just need to keep going."

Caretaker raised an eyebrow, not moving from where he knelt. With that endless patience that was beginning to grate on Whumpee's nerves, "...we have been at this for an hour. Your nerves are getting more and more frayed by the minute. You said yourself that this works best when you're calm."

"And what if I'm wrong?" Whumpee whirled around on him, tears in his eyes. "I keep failing. I've barely managed to stop myself three times this whole week. Out of what? Four dozen attempts? Five? Every time I quit I end up backsliding more and more. I can't keep giving up. This has to work."

"It will be easier—"

"Are you going to say it or not? You said you would help me!"

Caretaker looked taken aback. And just as quickly, his expression shuttered.

"What do you think I've been doing for the last hour?" he asked. "Don't forget— I still get to say 'no', too."

The reminder hit like a slap. Not because Caretaker was wrong. Because he was right.

It had taken everything Whumpee had just to keep making it through the practice sessions. With how bad things had gotten, he barely had the capacity to take care of himself right now. Let alone worry any of the people around him.

Was that how he'd been acting? Was that what Whumpee was denying him? Even the choice to be a part of this?

After standing there for another far too long moment, Whumpee let out a sigh and came back over to Caretaker. He slipped to the floor beside him, folding his knees up to his chest, back pressed to the couch.

Quieter, rougher, "...Yeah. Yeah, you do." He couldn't bring himself to look at him. "I'm sorry."

Although Caretaker didn't say anything, Whumpee could see the moment the tension in his shoulders let go. The fight passed over them like a distant shadow.

"I don't know how much longer I can keep doing this," Whumpee murmured. He wrapped his arms around his knees, resting his chin on his forearms. "Between the nightmares and the memories... I'm just... I'm so tired." Quieter still, "I can't seem to get that monster out of my head."

"You've not been sleeping." It wasn't a question.

"...I've been trying to. I really have. But I end up just laying there, thinking the same five thoughts on repeat, over and over and over. Things haven't been this bad since—"

A flash of bright light. Wrists rubbed raw. Whumpee was doubled over, arms wrapped around himself. Screaming himself raw with a flood of relief and despair and a hundred other emotions that he could never admit aloud. Blood spreading on the cement floor. Blood that finally, finally wasn't his own.

Whumpee flinched, twisting his face away from the sight. As if this was something he could just look away from. As if the memories weren't printed into his retinas like the afterimage of lightning.

He took a few slow, steadying breaths, shaking on every exhale. Clenched his trembling hands, open and closed. Open and closed. Eventually he managed a raspy, "...since before."

Caretaker watched, worried. But he knew better than to reach for Whumpee without asking first.

"Whumpee... you've been butting up against this same block for weeks now. I've watched you try everything except the most obvious thing there is. You need to rest." Whumpee opened his mouth to say something, but Caretaker cut him off before he could argue. "—I'm not telling you to quit. I know why you can't, and I would never ask it of you. But there's a difference between giving up, and taking enough time to catch your breath before the next sprint."

Whumpee averted his eyes again, throat working against the burn of building tears. But he was listening.

Softer, "You said this was something you'd be working on for the rest of your life. If that's true, then there's time. For just a few days... give yourself some of the softness you went so long without. Take enough time to be gentle with the man you're trying so hard to save."

The words had hit their mark. He watched as Whumpee's face crumpled. His breath hitched once, and he broke into a sob. Then Whumpee finally reached out for him, and Caretaker didn't hesitate to pull him into hug.

He buried his face against Caretaker's chest, everything he'd been holding back falling apart at once. Pain. Despair. Hope. Grief. All of it came pouring out with his voice.

"There. I've got you," Caretaker murmured, closing his eyes. Exhausted, but relieved that something had finally gotten through. "...I've got you."

[cipheramnesia]

This is the process my brain goes through every time I see anything about Netflix Avatar The Last Airbender.

My first reaction is always: Why? The original, although not without flaws, doesn't leave a lot of room to improve. A good remake or adaptation usually involves an updated context or change in perspective that adds to the original work and gives it new meaning. It's a risky undertaking because it usually involves wanting to take on something established as iconic and make it your own. But Netflix is a corporation and seems very risk averse for the most part. Its only investment is in the name recognition of AtLA. It's hard to visualize Netflix deliberately taking a big risk on an expensive show.

My second reaction is: How? The original series is about 1400 minutes over 61 episodes, and it still had to rush the ending. We're looking at 8 episodes of roughly 45-60 minutes per episode for season 1, which would require Netflix to let it run more than 3 seasons, if the series has similar pacing. Historically however Netflix shows have glacial pacing, and rarely make three seasons. Not really sure how they plan to tell the story if the series is anything like the average Netflix series, meaning it either needs to undercut the story or let the series breathe for at least five seasons. But nothing Netflix has done makes me want to watch anything they make as an ongoing series? Why bother, they cancel everything I enjoy. So I wonder how. What's the hook to say "this will be able to provide something new and interesting compared to the original, and will be allowed to tell the complete story."

Which leads me to think, but you can't judge if something is good without seeing it. Except none of this is about whether it's good, I just find myself wondering what are the odds it's worth the effort? They're low, and it has nothing to do with whether or not it's even any good on its own merits.

Following this, I ask myself, what would a good version of this be. Imagine you are making a live action series with eight hour long episodes per season based on a children's cartoon with 20 thirty minute episodes per season. You are trying to encompass a story which was presented over three seasons as a cartoon, and you do not know if you will have more than those eight episodes. It's made for Netflix which, in terms of a company which will protect the hard earned fruits of your artistic labor, is the fox guarding the henhouse. What do you do?

If you are looking to make something good, that respects your audience investment and your own work, you make radical changes to the story. You change the pacing, the character arcs, the plot arcs. You make sure you deliver a complete story in those episodes with as much respect for the original work and as many new ideas as you can.

Except, at that point, what is even the point of a remake. The only way to work with it is either to trust Netflix allowing you to finish the story (which you'd need to be incredibly naive to do), or tell a story so different it may as well be wholly original. And that's where I always end up. Like, it'll probably be fine, but what's the point of it all? Another vanishing digital property to get canceled because of some undefinable failure to return on investment.

I think about it a lot because the two ends of the spectrum seem to be "dunk on every new piece of information" or "wait and see" but the only conclusion I can ever reach is "why even care?" That's been the lesson to take home from digital streaming in general when it comes to series, but Netflix in particular, and honestly for movie series too. If it can't be self contained, the companies who produce and release these kinds of series just cannot be trusted with it, and there are too many good original stories being put out to care anymore about big budget promises that one day they will definitely for sure deliver a finished story, this time for real.

I care enough to think about why I don't feel anything at all about Netflix Avatar. It'll be fine, whatever else. Just fine.

[bones4thecats]

Hello, 😊 anon here. Your amazing digital circus writing was amazing - it had me smiling the whole day! I got excited when I saw you took requests for cartoon villains from some shows I like, so I figured I'd send in a request for a few of them 😊

Could I request His Imperial Majesty (HIM), Ice King, and Doofenshmirtz who have a platonic mentor-student relationship with the reader, and how they handle having a protégé who is quite skilled but also very nervous or anxious? Like, they struggle to do things in the moment or under pressure (if that makes sense)

I hope you have a nice day 👍

Protégé! Reader Having Atychiphobia

Characters: HIM, Ice King, and Dr. Heinz Doofenshmirtz Requester: 😊Anon A/N: This is full of so much fluff and angst that it's making my head spin! Also, just noting the Reader is said to have minor Atychiphobia, which has a definition below! Have fun reading this btw! ⚠️ Spoilers/Trigger Warnings for: Adventure Time S3 Eps19-20, and Phineas and Ferb's numerous episodes (I'm to lazy to name every single on with his backstory mentioned) finally, warnings for mentions of failure, disappointment, accidental harm, mental - physical - child abuse, and attempted child murder ⚠️ ~ Atychiphobia; "Atychiphobia is an intense fear of failure. It comes from the Greek word 'atyches,' meaning 'unfortunate.' People with atychiphobia may avoid any situation where they see a potential for failure, such as an exam or job interview." ~ My.ClevelandClinic.org

••●••●••●••●••●••●••●••●••●••●••●••●••●••●••●••●••●••●••●•

»»—————————-　 His Infernal Majesty 　—————————-««

❤️ Being born in the Underworld to demonic parents was hard, but it got worse when they showed their true sides and attempted to kill you early on in your life

❤️ Thankfully, your future adopted mentor, His Infernal Majesty, or HIM, had found out about the failed attempt and allowed the multiple malevolent and blood-thirsty members of the lands to have their fun with them (essentially ridding all dimensions of them)

❤️ Over the course of a couple days, HIM was trying to find another space you could go. He wasn't a fan of happiness, yet you were seemingly full of it whenever he was around. From giving his legs hugs to even gifting him small drawings or really any kind of creation you made out of your stone-making ability

❤️ HIM began to actually enjoy having you around. You showed a potential like no other demon or monster he had ever seen, well, other than himself of course

❤️ Over the passing years and eventual eon, HIM really leaned into acting like a father to you. Your powers had grown to a length that many feared you the same as they did the King of Darkness

❤️ Every single time he asked you to carry something out, you did so successfully, and he saw no sign of you being anxious or in any kind of denial about your abilities. You were gifted a kind of 'magic' that allowed you to just make people into stone and send them to be dust like nothing. You were powerful, but you were also fragile

"Y/N? Ah, there you are, youngling! How are you on this majestically horrible day?"

❤️ Looking up from your desk, you used your acting skills to try getting your teacher to leave you alone so you could finish your breakdown. Just a few days ago he had assigned you a task of getting some of Townsville's villains on your side, but you seemingly couldn't get them to listen for more than five minutes

"I'm fine, my Lord."

"Your aura is off, kiddo. I'm no fool. Now, tell me what is going on. Or else I may have to resort to not-so-kind methods."

❤️ You knew he was bluffing and just wanted you to speak your mind, but in your fear and depressed-stricken state, you believed him to be fully honest. So, you lifted your head fully and looked at him, making him startled at seeing how red your eyes had become. They were comparable to his very own skin!

❤️ He got down from the counter-top he was sitting on and walked towards you before opening his claw-hands and using one end to lift your chin to stare at him in the eyes

"Who did this."

"The assignment... it was just so hard! The damn mortals won't listen to any of the ideas you gave me on this accursed paper! They just- they won't let their egos fall for one lick of a second!"

❤️ HIM sighed and wrapped an arm around your shoulder, allowing you some time to rest. He understood what was wrong now. Every one of your plans when handling others to manipulate were successful, but this time you were failing. You feared disappointing him, and while he would normally push his worker aside and make them fear it even more, you mattered to him

"How about this; I take you outside and give you something else to do to take your mind away from this task. I'll just assign it to somebody else. Does that sound good?"

"Yeah.. thanks, Dad."

"...No problem, Rockstar."

••●••●••●••●••●••●••●••●••●••●••●••●••●••●••●••●••●••●••●•

»»————————————-　  Ice King  　————————————-««

In this, the reader is based off changelings from MLP:FiM. Here are two pieces of fanart I went off from: child-form / older-form

🧊 Long ago, you were once a young child, being held by your parents in the cozy cabin of theirs. Well, that was before they noticed differences in you that wasn't obvious before. From your extremely pointy ears to having fairly large eyes with a prominent blue shade and not the normal (e/c), they grew fearful and asked a species expert what was wrong

🧊 He had taken one look into your eyes and screamed for you to be taken away, you were a changeling. A creature that would become anything for the gain of love and affection to feed themselves and their empty-hearts

🧊 You were a mere 5-year-old, now living on your own in the freezing forest and mountain-tops ruled by the feared Ice King. Over the next couple months, you traveled randomly, trying to find something, someone, who would accept you

🧊 If you were left like nothing, it was obvious your real home had no use for you. After all, abandoning such a young hunter is fruitless

🧊 As you sat down next to a makeshift camp, you heard the sounds of small footprints pushing snow down. The footsteps began to get closer, making you look up in fear as you bared your fangs and hissed, your long tongue flailing about in an attempt to scare the being off

🧊 You then noticed a taller male looking down at you with some penguins around him, he looked at you confusingly before asking who you were

"Y/N..."

"Well Y/N. Why are you out here in the cold, by what I understand, humans can't survive fully out here."

🧊 It took a little while, and by that I mean by Guntar, or maybe one of his clones? It was hard to keep track sometimes. He grabbed your hand and rubbed his face on it, before turning around and looking at the mystery man with hope in his big eyes. Ice King sighed and motioned for you to follow them home

🧊 Over the following hundred years, you grew into a well-liked changeling. Though many had no clue of your true species. All it took for others to really accept you was the friendship you made with Princess Bubblegum

🧊 When you finally began to share the feeling of love with somebody, that being the Queen who abandoned you, you went from the colors of the night to having light green skin and many parts of you representing the insects you loved messing with at home

🧊 Finn and Jack understood why you were fearful to return home, with with their assurance, you gave them all one last hug before flying away to confront your adoptive father

🧊 Ice King was shocked to hear his name being called out by you, normally you were fairly mute and would just tug on his arm to get his attention

"Y/N...? Are you alri-"

🧊 Seeing a taller and far more colorful changeling there made Ice King shriek and ready himself with his magic, making you jump and begin to fearfully ramble on what happened

"I'm sorry, Boss! I didn't mean to disappoint you!"

"Disappoint me...? Y/N, what are you going on about?! I took you in hundreds of years ago by my own will... and maybe Guntar #53's as well. But STILL!"

🧊 Looking up from your bowing position, you noticed that Ice King had sat in front of you and was smiling gently. An obvious care was laying in him that he never revealed to anyone else

"You are my child. Maybe not from blood, but you're still my child."

"R-really?"

"Yep! No tricks, swear on my crown!"

••●••●••●••●••●••●••●••●••●••●••●••●••●••●••●••●••●••●••●•

»»————————-　 Dr. Heinz Doofenshmirtz 　————————-««

🔫 When Dr. Doofenshmirtz first met you, you were walking around Danville with your pet banana ball python wrapped around your neck, giving you small flicks of his tongue

🔫 You smiled at him and pat his tiny head lightly, moving around the people walking down the sidewalks. You then groaned when you heard a loud woman's voice, it was your old friend, Maddeline

🔫 Maddeline ran up to you and slightly jumped at seeing your snake, before calming down and asking where you had been for the past five years. You just rolled your eyes and let your snake roll down into your hand, holding the reptile up to her

🔫 She was getting more freaked out as the snake began to slither up to try biting her, making her run away in fear

🔫 You had no interest in speaking of the past five years. All of the failed attempts at pleasing your family members remained grilled into your memories, making you despise any mention of them

🔫 Thankfully, it only took a trip to the nearby grocery store to meet another female, one that seemed to be around 16 or so years old. She introduced herself as Vanessa Doofenshmirtz, making you chuckle, such an odd last name

🔫 A few weeks later, you and Vanessa began to hang out, seeing one another around so often had to be a sin for friendship. One day, the sound of a slightly boisterous and scratchy male's voice made you both look up, and seeing how Vanessa reacted, you only assumed it was her father. You were not-surprisingly correct

"Oh! Who's this little one, Vanessa?"

"This is Y/N, I met them a few weeks ago at the store a couple blocks down."

"Interesting. I'm Heinz Doofenshmirtz, Vanessa's father. It's nice to meet you, Y/N!"

"It's nice to meet you as well... Mr. Doofenshmirtz."

🔫 Shockingly, as the months passed of you and his daughter hanging out, you began to show a sign of high-intelligence, one that could rival Doof's entirely. One day, one of his -Inators had gone berserk and you ran up and disabled it in a matter of seconds

🔫 He almost immediately offered you a role in his work, specifically with going over his stuff to make sure his math and everything was correct. He didn't need another -Inator to fail again...

🔫 Over time of working with Vanessa's father, you gained a closeness almost similar to a father-child one. He showed you the kinder side of him, the same one he showed his daughter. And the way he praised you for your brilliance made you feel... nice. Like you had a purpose

🔫 Unfortunately for him and you though, one day you had gone over his calculations and gotten it wrong, making his invention crash and burn to nothing. And you panicked like nobody else was around

🔫 Was he going to yell at you? Scream? Scold you on how useless and a waste of space you were? Was he going to hate you...?

"Y/N, are you alright?!"

🔫 Looking up you saw Doofenshmirtz helping you up from the blast's damage. Why wasn't he yelling at you for screwing up so badly? He could've gotten severely hurt!

"Kid? You good?"

"Why... why aren't you yelling at me for screwing up?"

"What do you mean? It was an honest mistake. I've made millions! Besides, it's not like you make them all the time."

"So... you're not going to hit me and call me an idiot?"

"WHAT?! Who would do such a thing?! I may be an evil genius, but that makes zero sense to do!"

🔫 Doofenshmirtz looked into your eyes and noticed they were fogging over with tears. He could understand where you were coming from now. This must've been why you came to Danville, you had a bad family back home. He had one too

🔫 You began to sob as he hugged you, attempting to calm you down to the best of his abilities. And after a few minutes of reassuring words, you stopped crying and fell asleep, making him smile and lay you down in one of the rooms he set up for you and Vanessa whenever you two stayed over

🔫 Smiling as you rested, Doofenshmirtz couldn't help but wonder... just how similar were you two?

[foldingfittedsheets]

Here’s a story about the time I almost lost my virginity. This is of course a social construct and by a broader understanding had already been lost years earlier at a sleepover with my best friend. But I digress.

I was dating a boy in high school. I shall call him Drama Boy. DB was big into theater, he made home movies and did stage performances at his high school.

Now. I must make this notation here, because the ending to this story will be savage otherwise, but DB put entirely too much of his mental well-being on my shoulders. He was often depressed and it was my job to constantly be helping him to regulate that.

The night our story took place we had been dating for eight months. During those months had been a ludicrous amount of making out and groping, even one lusty fumble that almost ended in penetration I vetoed on the grounds of not having a condom. It’s worth noting the first time we made out I felt physically sick to my stomach but I assumed that was normal.

But our parents didn’t give us much opportunity to really do anything like we imagined real sex to be. Until he came over for a movie night and my parents left on a date.

Scandalous, some might say, of my parents to leave us unchaperoned. But my parents were very blasé about sexual topics. They knew I was well educated and careful. Their leaving was possibly a gift of privacy rather than carelessness.

So when DB arrived for our movie night, we both knew This Was The Night. The night we’d lose our virginity.

We were both nervous and excited. The weight of societal pressure blanketed both of us, convincing us that this was the most momentous night of sex either of us could ever have.

DB chose a wretched movie. We sat through the first part dutifully before we started making out sloppy style. As I’d said previously, we’d done plenty of making out and hand stuff. Which is why I noticed that DB did not seem to be as… rigid as he had on other occasions.

A kinder more mature lens has softened my perspective. He was so nervous. But at the time I was a bit offended that I wasn’t arousing enough to have him standing at full mast. Still, we forged ahead.

I sat patiently while he tried to unhook my bra, boredly watching the terrible movie in the background as he soldiered manfully toward defeating the two clasps containing the bounty of my bosom while insisting he didn’t need my help. It took about five minutes.

That out of the way we made out some more. Then DB pulled out his pièce de résistance. A condom. This was a big get for him. His family, unlike mine, were horribly conservative and of the opinion that marriage was worth waiting for. So his opportunity to secure this vital piece of equipment had been slim.

In fact, it had been so slim, that what he pulled out was an:

Unlubricated

Glow in the dark

Novelty condom

From a vending machine

At the bowling alley.

I wasn’t terribly enthused about any of those qualifiers, but I held my tongue.

Then came the worst part. DB couldn’t admit that the stress of performance had unmanned him. He continued to pretend his wobbly erection could facilitate the rigorous activity of putting on a condom. He attempted to force the dry clinging rubber down his dick as it softened like pudding under his fumbling hands.

I butted in and made with more kissing, certain that seeing me naked had been such a let down that he was going limp because of me. Surely the sight of my boobies should have been enough! Because they weren’t, I was convinced he wasn’t really into this deflowering at all.

It didn’t help that my enthusiasm for this activity was fueled purely by teen hormones rather than actual sexual attraction. Perhaps he felt the same. It was one thing to watch his penis with clinical curiosity but another to think that my young boobs didn’t excite the same lust I felt toward boobs.

Nevertheless. The condom was more or less on. With momentous energy he tried to jam our anatomy together and rolled a critical failure. His penis lost all rigidity and oozed away from insertion.

Panicking and embarrassed he exclaimed, “I think I put this on wrong!”

To my horror he began trying to remove the condom and put it back on the other way. Health instructors of ages past screamed in my head that the condom had now been stretched and unrolled.

Trying to jam it back on was certainly not safe, especially given the slackness of the anatomy in question. It would certainly tear- if he could even get it back on.

I broke out in a sweat watching him attempt the magic trick of convincing a flaccid penis that it really wanted to get better acquainted with a desiccated rubber tube prison.

“I just remembered!” I exclaimed.

He looked up at me, wretched with despair.

“I promised my parents I wouldn’t have sex tonight. I just remembered! Sorry!”

This could go down in history as one of the most bold faced and terrible lies ever told, a blatant falsehood on par with declaring the sky was green. But his face broke out in a terrible relief.

He disposed of the abused condom and I resecured my bra and we resumed watching the horrible movie, both of us relieved in our own way to set down the burden of Losing Virginity.

The next day I broke up with him.

This remains to this day one of the most savage things I’ve ever done, breaking up with someone the night after impotence.

But remember, dear reader! It wasn’t just the sex! His depression had already worn away my patience and our communication. The foibles of the night before had just illuminated the gaps where we couldn’t talk to each other properly. I was constantly comforting him over something, shoring up his brain chemistry with my relentless positivity.

I’d like to say that’s all it was, and look more charitably on my young self. But truthfully my tender pride had also been badly stung that I wasn’t worth rising to the occasion for. Comforting him over this latest mishap when my feelings were hurt was more than I could swallow.

DB took the breakup very poorly. About two weeks later he lost his virginity with the new girl he was dating. He called me to brag, sniffing through the airwaves for hints that he’d hurt me back.

When I congratulated him with utter sincerity and not a whiff of jealousy he was furious.

We stopped speaking for years, except on our mutual birthday when we’d wish each other a cordial “Happy birthday.”

He messaged me out of the blue one day years later to catch up. He was working in food service now. Was it true I was a lesbian? Yes, I assured him, that was true. He thought that was pretty cool.

Then he told me about this bisexual girl he worked with who was interested in a threesome. Did I want to have a threesome with him and his bisexual coworker?

The audacity. I couldn’t believe it. My mind filled with savage retorts like, if you understand I’m a lesbian why do you think I’d want you to be part of that? Why wouldn’t I just sleep with her without you?

But I remembered the utterly ruthless way I’d dumped him and as penance I swallowed all of the things I wanted to say and instead politely told him I was seeing someone, but thanks for the offer.

And that was it. He’d managed to shoot his shot not once, not twice, but three times, and never managed a home run. He struck out that last time, and we never spoke again.

[ooouuunahnah]

We all have our vices; for Izuku Midoriya it’s you.

Enjoy this Izuku x Str!pper reader one shot

Plz excuse grammar and spelling errors I did not spell check

Minors DNI

“I need new friends.” Is all Izuku can think about when the smell of sweat and ass is clouding his senses. His so called ‘friends’ have kidnapped him from his comfortable solitude of self pity and have dragged him to see an ‘exotic’ dancer show. Yea, they brought him to a strip club; to somehow distract him from the fact that the love of his life has dumped him and is probably screwing his junior.

He doesnt blame Ochako, they were both too busy loving their careers more than each other; it couldn’t be helped.

“PLEASE JUST ONE CHEEK!?” A few feet away from him Mineta is practically harassing a dancer whose resemblance to Jessica rabbit is uncanny.

His perverted friend is on his knees, shaky hands clamped in front of him and elephant tears streaming from his face. “I’LL GIVE YOU ALL OF MY MONEY IF YOU JUST SIT ON MY FACEEE.”

Izuku frowns his face up. “What’s that look for?” He turns his attention to the beautiful headache who helped drag him here, Mina.

“I wanna go home.” She rolls her eyes, “You’re a grown man Deku you’re free to come and go wherever you please.” He starts to stand up when Mina practically body slams him back into his seat and crash landing onto his lap.

Izuku exhales but it comes out strained, “Don’t you think Ejirou would be a tad bit upset if he sees his girl sitting on his friends lap?”

She takes a glass of champagne from a passing waiter, “We’re on the outs.” Izuku adjusts himself and leans back (might as well get comfortable since he’s stuck here).

“Ooh I can tell, you tend to do disrespectful shit whenever he pisses you off.” Which is quite often I might add.

She leans into me, swirling her glass of champagne. *sigh* “I went to through his phone.” She says putting the glass to her lips and gulping down half of its contents.

I lean further into my seat, it’s gonna be a long night. “And?” I take the champagne from her and buck the rest and she puts her chin in the hand that was just holding her glass.

“There are girls literally flooding his DM’s and I don’t even wanna talk about his snap chat.” I wince knowing that she’d find a pretty similar situation in my phone.

But in both of our defense, “They’re probably just a bunch of thirsty fans. What makes you think he’s replied to any of them.”

Her glare is deadly, “You both are disgusti- you know what tonight isn’t about me it’s about how my best friend dumped you on your ass and you’re being a whiny baby about it.”

I return her glare, “Oh I’m the whiny one but you’re sitting on my lap bitching about a few thirst traps sent to, and I quote,” (throwing up air quotes to emphasize my point) “your man that’s not your man.”

“You know what you’re hurt so I’m going to let that one slide.” I roll my eyes as she continues. “As I was saying tonight is about you getting laid by a hot stripper and possibly forgetting about your failed attempt at love.”

A mix of pain and annoyance flutters through my chest at the mention of my failure as a boyfriend ..and a man. A solemn expression takes over my face much to Mina’s disdain.

“Stop that.” “Stop what ?” “That face, stop feeling sorry for yourself. I love Ochako to death but she’s not worth loosing yourself over.” I let out a breath, “Well it feels like I’ve already lost myself.” “Well then,” she smiles sinisterly. “Let’s get you a stripper who can help you find it. ”

She jumps up with newfound enthusiasm. “I’m gonna find you the BADDEST bitch of the bunch. And she’s going to be all yours for the night.” She promises, I offer her a small smile then she turns and leaves eager to complete her mission.

She’s gone all but five minutes before she returns jumping up and down with the excitement of a kid in a candy store. “Izuku get up get up I found her.” She pulls on my arms urging me up, I eye her suspiciously

unconvinced, “You found her that quick ?” “YES. She’s so fine if you don’t hit I will.” I laugh at her genuinely amused, “Their job is to dance not fuck.” She waves me off and continues to lead me to the mystery girl, “Yea yea I heard that in a Cardi B song but trust me you’ll want to.

Before I know it I’m sitting down in a led lit room with a pole and stage, soft music playing in the background. “Hi.” She smiles at me, “H-hi.” I clear my throat, she’s beautiful, like drop dead gorgeous. I’m thinking 5’7-8, brown eyes, black volumous coils just above her shoulders, lips full and two toned no less. Fuck, her lips.

And a body that could definitely take away my worries for the night. She tilts her head noticing my staring, I meet her eyes again. “Um what’s your name ?” “S/N” (stage/name) “I mean your real name”, amusement lacing my voice. She leans into me ,“Wouldn’t you like to know.”

“I would yes” my voice dropping to a whisper as she closes in, we lock eyes and just when I think she might come in for a kiss she pulls away and to my surprise straddles me. “None of my clients know my real name” I tense as she moves her hips against me. “Maybe I’m special” my hands land on her hips,

“Not that special”. I’m growing hard, in the span of 15 minutes she had grind on me in ways I didn’t even know someone could. She’s about to sit back down on me when I grab her hips trying to catch a breath. Stopstopstopstopstop, I let out a huff trying to contain myself and she looks at me in confusion.

“What’s wrong?” she asks and I word vomit, “Nothing nothing you’re amazing really but this is really REALLY turning me on and I know you’re just doing your job so I don’t want to make it weird and you feel how you’re affecting me and it creeps you out and makes you uncomfortable and-“ , her beautiful laughter interrupts my rant.

She makes her way to me and straddles my lap, it’s not weird it’s normal happens all the time”, she proceeds to move her hips directly over my erect dick. My voice is strained, “Does it not make you uncomfortable?” “ Sometimes but it’s part of the job.”

In this case tho you were very respectful and honest on your part, I’m not used to that”, she leans in wrapping her arms around my neck voice dropping to a whisper, “kinda turns me on.” My dick jumps at the praise and she must feels it because she picks up her pace quicker than the music.

My hips unconsciously meets hers and she moans softly at the feeling. My hands tighten on her waist, “Sweetheart.. I’m going to cum in my pants if you keep this up.” This time she lifts her hips up a bit to drag herself down harder on me and I shudder at the friction created, she leaning and whispers aginst my lips, “As long as I get off too.”

A smirk spreads across my face, “That can be arranged.” Before I can think to stop myself I press my lips to hers fully swallowing her moans and tasting her on my tounge as she slides hers in my mouth. Then I’m on her neck kissing licking and sucking anywhere I can, anywhere she’ll allow me to all while drinking in her delicious Moans.

She taste so good, how can anyone’s skin taste this good??? “ I just wanna eat you up.” I whisper aginst her skin, she laughs in response but it’s cut off by a moan when hold her tighter and ground her against me.

I can help but feel everything I can, I’m touching her waist her breast her ass, my hands would be in her beautiful hair if they weren’t already occupied. I can practically feel her through my pants with the growing wet spot I already know is there.

Her Rythum is slowing and she’s tugging on my hair and I’m cuming. I’m coming in my fucking pants in a strip club hunching one of the dancers of all things. The music has stopped and the sound of our heavy breathing fills the room, I’m still squeezing her ass cuz it’s a really nice ass and my hands have become content being there. “Fuck.”

I whisper against her skin “Fuck.” She repeats, I have a feeling she’s never done this with one of her clients before but I think we can both agree that it was one of the most intense orgasms we’ve ever had…with our clothes still on at that. She pulls back first and I lift my head to look at her.

She’s so pretty with her hair ruffled, lips swollen, and her breath uneven.” “That was..” “Amazing” ,I finish for her, she bites her lip at that. I place a kiss against her neck, “Let’s do it again..” She laughs softly, “We’ll see about that, maybe at your next visit?”

I’m getting hard again at the thought of coming back and sharing another mind blowing orgasm. I whisper aginst her lips, “It’s a date.” “Y/N,” “What?” “My name, it’s Y/N.” My chest warms at the confession, ���You can call me Deku.” “That’s not your name.” I lean in and tuck a loose curl behind her ear, “I’ll tell you next time.” She rolls her eyes playfully, “It’s a date.”

[glassrowboat]

🐻 carnival prize

Another Shot. Lyney.

Word count: 2,400+

“You suck.”

You couldn't help but click your tongue as, once again, the blond across the sticky counter, no doubt from countless grubby fingers and spilled cups containing fizzy soda with lids that weren't quite put on right, missed his target. The bright red and white circles seemingly teasing him as they waved back and forth with the poster boards of some animals they were slapped onto.

Well, this was the ‘Hunters Paradise’ shooting game.

“I am trying here.” The blond protested with a slight whine in his voice that you welcomed the sound of far more than the same song you've been forced to listen to on repeat for hours. The entire duration of your shift always proved to have that song playing in your ears even as your head hit a pillow in hopes of some quality shut eye. Haunting you even in your dreams.

Behind him was a woman with a funnel cake and white powder staining her gloves. Not that she seemed to mind, though, as she asked if he really was trying at all.

Aka: the popular brother and sister act of Fontaine standing right before you, and failing at playing a simple game while they're at it.

“You know, magician, I thought you'd be a bit better at this whole rigged games thing considering your profession revolves around sleight of hand.”

Or that he'd be slightly self-aware enough to realize these were just a complete money sink. Not that it seems that way as Lyney once again placed a few mora on the counter, even when his sister's tail twitched at the sight.

Another shot at the game to be had.

“One more try?” He asked.

You couldn't help but roll your eyes, even as you picked up the basket containing the ammo (they were really just rubber bullets) and filled the plastic gun he had been holding back up to its limit. Six shots for another six failures.

“Haven't you learned any better?”

“Well, maybe I just need a good teacher to show me the way.” Lyned said with a wink.

You shoved the gun back in his hands, gesturing for Lyney to continue. Arm outstretched much like you'd seen the very man…if he could be called that..do five minutes earlier when some kids came up to him and asked Lyney to show them a few tricks.

It was a cute sight and certainly far more humble than the shows you've come to know him for. There was no grand spotlight shining on everything, setting a stage alight, but there were eyes full of excitement trying to track his every move.

It's why you thought he came over here in the first place, to give one of those tiny hands a toy to play with, but his flirting had quickly changed your mind on that conclusion.

“Just shoot, cause I'm not taking students.”

Miss. Miss. Miss.

At this point, you were just sharing a look with Lynette and trying not to snicker too obviously.

“Brother, I'm surprised you've been missing the targets so much when you're usually so skilled with a bow.” Lynette said, and that was enough to have your quiet giggles breaking out into a full fit even as you tried to hide them behind your hand.

“Well, dearest sister, this is very different from a bow.”

You were rolling another one of those rubber bullets, ones that are purposefully made with a weighted side, between your fingers as you muttered: “Yeah, right. Sounds like someone's making excuses.”

“Shouldn't you be a bit nicer to me here? I mean, I am putting in money to the booth you're running and all.” As he spoke, Lyney's words slowly trailed off, like even he knew that point was mute.

“I don't get paid enough to be nice.” You said, sticking your tongue out at him.

Not on minimum wage, anyway. It's barely enough to keep your teeth from gritting as that damn song starts again.

“Besides, you're like a celebrity anyway, so I'd imagine you have the money to blow on this.”

Another miss.

“So you've heard of me then? I didn't know my name was so popular in Fontaine. Especially not with such a lovely individual as yourself.”

“Yeah, I heard about you cause of that murder case trial.”

This time, you couldn't blame Lyney as he missed, not with the way he flinched at being called out. An accidental trigger poll. “Ah…well…I was on trial for another thing too if you didn't hear. I can tell you all about it.”

“Alright.” You said as you picked up another handful of bullets, already expecting Lyney to pay for another attempt as they rolled into your awaiting palm. “Regale me, magician.”

“Gladly. Now, picture this: a grand scene. One that has everyone holding their breath in sheer anticipation as I was brought to the stand as a thief. You see, the crime I committed was stealing your heart.”

As he spoke, Lyney was dramatically gesturing to himself with his open hand. Chest right over his heart. Or better yet: the frilled ruffles of his shirt.

(That outfit was not doing him any favors with the twink allegations.)

“He really does say some strange things.” Lynette said, trying to speak around the bite of her cake she had just taken. A notion you couldn't help but agree with.

As he missed again, you poked the pink stuffed rabbit hanging above you, the fuzz brushing against your finger as you forced it to swing back and forth from being jabbed at. Its little feet almost hit your head as you ducked under it. “You do know it would be cheaper to just go to the store and buy yourself a stuffed animal, right?”

“But, it wouldn't be the same, now would it?” Lyney reached up, grabbing the rabbit's leg to force it to stay still as he smiled at you. “This one would be given to me by you.”

You couldn't help the sigh that left you, not when he was such a persistent little bugger. Especially over something you're pretty sure your supervisor mentioned was bought in bulk for fifty bucks. “Next round then?”

Lyney nodded in agreement, repeating your words as you got everything ready again.

“I wasn't aware your downfall would be a single stuffed rabbit, brother.” You heard Lynette say as the trigger was pulled again.

“It's a big compliment to the thing, at least.”

“Thing.” She rolled your words on her tongue for a moment before shaking her head, and you couldn't help but wonder if her cat ears naturally twitched with the movement. “Perhaps we should give it a name. Maybe then it will convince my dear brother to actually be good at this game.”

“Reginald?” You asked.

Two sets of eyes landed on you, both with a raised brow right above them, clearly questioning why you chose that name of all things. “I've been in a regency romance kick. Don't worry about it.”

Lyney muttered a small “....Right.”

“Just-” You tapped the gun, only slightly annoyed by how you could feel a sticky residue left behind. Something you've had to wipe away countless times now only for it to return as another customer happily runs up to try their hand at this. “Just get back to playing the damn game.”

His laughter had you ducking your head, eyes cast down on the ground to count the few popcorn kernels around your feet.

Though you did smirk the second you saw Lyney missing the target again. A dancing deer going back and forth as if it came to life long enough just to stick its tongue out at him only to return to normal a split second later.

“So, you don't have any special tools to help you in that hat of yours?”

“Unfortunately, a magician can only hold so many items in these things without them being so tall they'd fall off my hat just by walking through a door.”

“I wouldn't worry about that then, I doubt you're even tall enough to touch the doorframe. Let alone have it knock anything of yours off.”

He shot the next bullet at you, hitting you right in the forehead before it fell to the ground with a soft plink.

“Oh now you can aim.” You rolled your eyes. “Don't make me take that from you.”

Much like one would with a misbehaving child.

“Well, I may be out of luck with my hat, but a magician always had a few cards up his sleeve.”

A shuffle of papers graced your ears, barely heard over the sound of the passing crowd and children's screams as they whirled around on the nearby roller coaster that spun your hair in its breeze everytime the carts rolled by, as Lyney suddenly held a few cards in his hands. Shuffling the small deck between deft fingers only for it to seemingly fly in the air with a mock surprised look on his face. One you rolled your eyes at to stop from focusing on the pout he put on only for the cards, or confetti really, to disappear with a flash.

“See?” He asked, just waiting to see your awed expression.

“Impressive. Anyway.”

As you turned away from him, you caught Lynette covering up her laugh as Lyney looked back at her, head snapping. Only to start whining a second later. “Here I am, the greatest magician in all of Teyvat being kind enough to share a free show, and I only get an ‘anyway.’”

Nodding Lynette replied back with: “You did get an ‘impressive’ too.”

“In a tone that clearly said our lovely booth vendor here didn't really think much of it!”

You were half tempted to pipe up and say you have a name, only pinned onto your chest in bold font and surrounded by stickers you slapped onto the badge, but you held your tongue. They'd figure it out eventually as you walked over to the dancing cardboard animals.

Moving up and down endlessly.

Maybe they really were taunting him, you thought as you pushed one over and a loud ringing that caused you to flinch back, despite the fact you were expecting it. A robotic voice calling out "you did great, hunter” in what had to be the most half-hearted attempt at sounding cheery (and you work with teenagers) catching the twins’ attention.

“Congrats, Teyvat’s best magician, you won.”

Holding back on your urge to mock his bow at the end of each show, you pull the pink stuffed rabbit Lyney was playing with early off the hook it was hanging on. Floppy ears whacking your arm as you held it out to him.

“Wait, but I didn't even shoot the target myself. I can't say I won anything if I didn't do it myself.”

“And that matters why?” You asked as you shoved it into his arms.

“Well- I-” Lyney hugged the rabbit tight, wrapping his arms around it as he fumbled over his words. Struggling to get just the right sentence that would catch your attention. “You see, Reginald here-”

“Because the rabbit was supposed to be for you.” Lynette piped up. Hands clapped together as she dusted off the powdered sugar clinging to them, letting the few crumbs left of her dessert fall to the ground.

“I was supposed to tell them that, sister!”

You looked down at the rabbit, big ears the same as always, and a bow tied around its neck suddenly seeming slightly more tolerable after all the stuffies you had to fix when the shipment first arrived. Sewing them back where they belonged took hours and left your fingers pricked and stained red to high Celesta. You had cursed them then…but now.

“For me?” You asked hesitantly.

Lyney rubbed at the back of his neck, the fabric of his shirt rustling slightly with the movement as it just barely concealed a nervous bead of sweat sliding down his skin. “That was the intention, lovely booth vendor. You see, I saw you watching my performance earlier and thought you would like a personal show. One that may or may not have included pulling Reginald here out of a hat.”

“And because he thought you were cute.”

“Sister!” Lyney cried. “Please, can you stop outing me?”

You found yourself watching the two, fingers twitching into the rabbit’s plush fur. Truly, it was amazing how bad of a wing woman Lynette was, but considering Lyney wasn't doing himself much favors before, maybe she isn't doing too bad of a job. Even if she is currently looking upset with him, ears pulled back at the sudden change in his volume.

“Sorry. My apologies, truly, just..please allow me to take it from here. A magician sometimes has to perform a trick or two without their assistant.” He playfully tipped his hat, Lyney’s expression just out of your sight as the twins stared at each other.

“You know,” you interjected, right when Lynette was about to open her mouth, “I wouldn't mind seeing that trick. Or two.”

Spinning around on his heel, Lyney looked at you, eyes wide. Not that you could blame him after being so abrasive, but to be fair, he did that to himself.

“I'm serious.”

“Really? You are?” Lyney asked, hand taking your own that was still keeping the rabbit dangling in the air that carried the scent of fried food on it.

With your confirmation, he pushed the rabbit back towards you with a smile. The same one you saw Lyney giving those children who were running around him as he performed trick after trick at their behest. “Then I'll entrust Reginald to be in your care. And um…”

Your brow raised as you waited for Lyney to finish his sentence, but he kept looking back between the rabbit you were now hugging to your chest and you.

Though, you were half expecting Lynette to chime in with another comment even as she stood to the side watching you two with a deadpan expression.

“And if you happen to actually win the game,” you pointed back towards the dancing cutouts that were once again primed to be shot at, “then your prize can be a date with me. If I get to pick where and when.”

“Well then, our lovely booth vendor,” Lyney said as he placed the coins on the counter, a small chime coming from the handful of mora as they bounced against each other. “Can I have one more round?”

Let's just hope giving him another shot works in your favor you thought as you once again filled the plastic gun full of ammo.