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Kinkmas 🎄 № 2: Voyeurism

summary: harry takes you to amsterdam. 

word count: 4.2k

reading time: 18 min.

content warnings: 18+, sex toys, public sex, sex work(ers), teasing, oral (f reciving), manhandling (if you squint), d/s undertones (harry is just a little bossy is all), pet names (baby, lovie, good girl, pretty girl) implied bi/pan!reader, fxf scene, f solo scene, fxm scenes are also described as well. very obvious ignorance to sex work/sex clubs. 

a/n: now i wanna go to Amsterdam. brb booking my flight! 

________________

Harry prided himself on his ability to plan a trip for the two of you. From beginning to end, you never had a care in the world on these trips other than what dress you would wear to dinner. Even then, Harry often made his preference very clear by digging into your bag while you showered and laying out his pick for the night (accessories included, of course). You didn't mind being his little doll; you liked it when he picked out something for you. It made you feel special; you'd yet to figure out why, but you didn't question it too much. Not when every part of your trip was planned, from the moment you woke up to breakfast in bed to some activity fit for each day to dinner reservations each night. Harry had it all covered. 

You found yourselves on this trip in Amsterdam. 'Just because,' he said. And that was a good enough reason for you to get another stamp on your passport. You've done all the tourist spots thus far. All but one. Until tonight. 

Tonight, you were headed to a show. A show in the redlight district. 

So, what you cheated this time. You saw the confirmation email on Harry's phone from the theater earlier, did a quick Google search, and now your stomach is in knots. In a good way, nervous anticipation more than anything. But still, you had to remain calm. Tonight was a surprise, so you needed to be surprised. 

Harry was sure you were going to be. Regardless of how horrible your acting had been, trying to pretend like you didn't know where you were headed, he knew you too well. He knew you saw the confirmation and damn near planned it for you to see. Harry knew your curiosity would eat at you, and you'd inevitably do your own research. But he also knew that you'd only go searching so far. He hopes he's staying within your boundaries with this one. That this all wasn't too much. But by the way, you're fumbling at the vanity, trying to do the finishing touches to your make-up and hair, telling him you are more than ready for tonight. 

You fumble through your make-up bag in search of a specific brush when Harry comes up behind you, pressing a kiss to your temple. 

"Almost done, baby. I know we are on a timer." you rush out, eyes meeting him in the mirror briefly, not noticing that only one hand is on your waist. The other is behind his back, holding something. 

"Don't rush; we're more than okay on time." he smiles, pressing a hiss to the side of your neck, sending a shiver down your spine that wakes you up. "Can I ask you to hold onto something for me?" 

You don't look up from what you're doing in front of the mirror; you don't even see what he's holding up. "You have a million pockets, bab-" your eyes widen when they meet his in the mirror after locking eyes with what's in his hand. "You brought that on the plane!" you whisper, through a smile, turning towards him, heat rising to your cheeks at the thought. In his hand was what was slowly becoming your favorite toy that you and Harry had added to your 'playtime.' It was your remote control butterfly-esque toy. It was meant to fill you up just enough while the buzzing base hit right up against your clit just right. You've discussed wearing it in public before but never thought he would commit to the idea. You can't believe he'd brought it. Happy, excited, even, but nervous. 

"I did. Specifically for tonight. Thought it would be appropriate for where we're going?" 

"Where could we possibly be going where that's appropriate?" you smirk, playfully batting at his chest. 

"You'll see," he smirked, taking a moment to read your face. "Look, I know we've only ever used this guy in the bedroom, but I thought it would be fun tonight. If you are uncomfortable, we can scratch -" 

"No!" you rush out, reaching for it in his hand. "I just mean - what were you thinking?"

"Well, I don't want to give away the whole surprise, but it starts with this," He emphasizes by bringing your attention to the toy, "Going inside of my pretty girl." he smirks, looking between your legs, "after I have a taste of course," he adds. 

"Oh, well, of course," you giggle, rolling your eyes playfully. 

"Right. So once I've had my fill of my peach, then this will go nice and snug inside your pussy," Harry says with a smile before he brings his hand up from your hip to your jaw, bringing your eyes to his, his eyes blown out in lust. "And you're going to hold it in there for me. All night until we get back here. Hopefully, if you are up for it, I'll be spending the rest of our last night between your legs. Letting you see Amsterdam from your favorite angle, baby." He rasps, dipping his down and crashing his lips to yours. 

On your back. 

You giggle into the kiss. It was a silly thing you'd said when you were in Paris. You had the perfect view of the Eiffel Tower. You are unsure how he did it; regardless, it was an ideal view. And yet you spent most of the trip, seeing it upside down, while on your back, head dangling off the side of the bed as Harry had worked, orgasm after orgasm from you. You'd then joked that you'd want to see every city with him on your back. Seeing the Eiffel Tower upside down was your favorite way to see it. So it's kind of become a tradition of sorts to have mind-blowing sex in each city you visit together, at least once.  

Harry has taken it to be a challenge to get you that high off him, to say something just as goofy in every city, and if that meant you were on your back, well….it was tradition. He leans in, deepening the kiss, "How's that sound?" He pulls away and chuckles at your eyes, still fluttering open. 

"Good. yeah." 

"Yeah? This is okay?" he asks, seriously, his tone sweet as pie. 

"Yeah. It…could be fun. Just try not to embarrass me too with it too bad," you joke with a sigh, and Harry shakes his head insistently. 

"Never. I'd never embarrass you with this. This is for us, for you. S' not to make a spectacle of you. I'd never." 

"I know," You giggle into a kiss, trying to shake some of your nerves. 

"I just want you to know. Now," He smirks devilishly down at you, lust clouding over his eyes, "Can I?" 

You cross your arms across your chest, "I don't know, can you?" you mock, finally getting to pull his favorite word 'gotcha' on him. And he groans, gripping your jaw again, playfully growling at you. 

"You brat." he sighs at you. He leans down, kissing you deep, before pulling away just enough. "May I?" he asks, eyes never leaving yours. "Please." 

"You may." you breathe out.

You barely have time to register his movements. He's on his knees before you, hiking your dress up your thighs in seconds. He looks up at you with a devilish grin as he shimmies your panties down your thighs. You kick them to the side, and Harry grabs hold of one of your thighs, hooking it over his shoulder, "Lean back, baby. Hold onto the sink." He smirks before planting sloppy kisses up each of your thighs. Slow and intimate.  

Harry wasn't a fan of quickies. Sure, you'd had a few here and there, but they were never Harry's style. He never rushed, not with you. And especially not when he was given the privilege of going down on you. No, he was going to savor every moment he got to spend between your thighs. Knowing that he was the only one to see you from this angle. 

When his lips finally did land where you'd been wanting them, it was just a light peck to your folds. Followed by a long bold lick from your entrance to your clit. 

"Harry, we don't have time." You whine, wanting him to devour you like you both know he wanted to. 

"Shhh, don't you worry about that," he coos, placing another kiss on your thigh, "just relax." He returned his lips to your folds and did what Harry does best. Take you to heaven. He went slow at first, alternating between licking up and down your folds and sucking on your clit. His hands roamed and groped, pulling you down further onto his tongue. He licked and sucked, twirled his tongue. God, was he amazing with his mouth. And never was he stingy in blessing you with his oral talents. He was so lost in you, drunk on the taste of you on his tongue, Harry nearly forgot about his original plan. It wasn't until he felt your fingers twist into his hair, tugging ever so slightly with a whine, that he was brought back down to earth. 

"Can I ask you for one more thing, baby?" He asks against your pussy. You look down at him, eyes blown out in lust, nodding vigorously. You were so close. 

"Mmhmm, anything." You keen, tugging at his hair some more. 

"I need you to come for me. Can you do that?" He asks, looking up at you, slowly inserting his middle finger inside. 

Your mouth falls open, eyes still locked on Harry on his knees for you. "Mmmhmm." You nod. 

"Good girl," He coos, and your stomach flips at the praise, "You come for me, and then I'll give you the toy, and you keep it for the rest of the night, okay?" Again, all you had the brain power to do was nod at him, tugging his hair, pulling him closer. 

You could feel the spring in the pit of your stomach; you were right there. "Harry-"you keen, 

"That's it, baby, come on." He encourages, curling his fingers up, dragging them in and out of you at a pace that has you spinning. "Come on my fingers, baby." 

It's all you need. Harry's permission before you come undone on one of his hands while the other arms hold you up. He works you through your first orgasm of the night, pulling it from you with every drag of his fingers. You barely have time to fully come down before you feel him removing his fingers and inserting the toy. It's slightly thicker than Harry's fingers, so the fit is somewhat snug, but the feeling is phenomenal. 

Harry straightens up once the toy is in place and you've caught your breath. He shimmies your panties back up your legs and straightens your dress out for you. You wrap your areas around his shoulders, bringing him close to you, and he places a sweet peck on your forehead and nose before kissing your lips, just enough for you to taste yourself. "You okay?" He smiles. 

"Yeah. Thank you." You breathe out, your head still a little fuzzy from your orgasm, your legs still a little weak. 

"You don't have to thank me every time I make you come, baby." He chuckles. 

"I know. But still." You shrug, leaning your forehead against his for just a moment. You two stood momentarily while you came down, holding each other against the sink. 

"Can you finish getting ready for me?" He asks, bringing you back to the present. 

"Yeah - just a few minutes." you smile. He looked down at you with a proud grin on his face.

"I'll be out there," he looks down at his watch and chuckles. "Okay, maybe now we are on a bit of a time crunch, but still - baby, don't rush." He places a quick kiss on your temple. "I will be by the door when you're ready." 

'I'll be by the door' was Harry Speak for 'I love you, but you have ten minutes.' You shake your head and opt for a quick brown contour on your eyes to give you some life rather than your planned smoky eye. You topped off the look with some mascara and gloss. It's a nice no-make-up look. 

Perfect for a sex show - Buzzzz. You jolted forward. 'He's a mind reader, isn't he?' You think. How else could he have perfectly cued the vibrating egg to go off at the mere thought of tonight's plans?  

"Lovie - come on," Harry calls from the front of the hotel with a smirk ever so present in his voice. 

Bastard. You curse him in your head, trying to keep your moans at bay. Just when you think you feel like you feel the beginnings of that tingly feeling that starts at the base of your spine once more, it stops. And Harry comes around the corner, no indication on his face that he's the reason you've been hunched over in here rather than out there with him. "You ready?" 

Shit. You hated this game. You were terrible at it. But it was Harry's favorite. 

The game? Harry worked you up, with you doing the same, while you both played coy and ignored the other's attempts until someone broke. That someone was nearly always you. 

"Yes." You squeak out, straightening your dress out. "Fuck." you say out loud. How would you keep this thing in you with a dress if he plans on doing that all night? 

"Everything okay?" he asks condescendingly. 

"Fine." you breathe out. You were not going to let Harry win at this that easy. "I'm fine, let's go. I'm ready." He smiles at you, proud of your attempt to keep the game going. Tonight was going to be so fun for you both. 

⁙⁙⁙⁙⁙⁙⁙⁙⁙⁙⁙⁙⁙⁙⁙⁙⁙⁙⁙⁙⁙⁙⁙⁙⁙⁙⁙⁙⁙⁙⁙⁙⁙⁙⁙⁙⁙⁙⁙⁙⁙⁙⁙⁙⁙⁙⁙⁙

Harry kept you huddled into his side as you moved through the brisk December streets of Amsterdam. Your coat was more style than function, and Harry, ever the gentleman, sacrificed his own for you to stay warm. 

"We're just about - Oh. Here it is." he slows down, pulling you behind him to a door along a strip of stores that looked abandoned. He feels the weight of you stopped behind him. "I promise this is the place." Still, you don't budge, "I have it on good authority that this is the place," he smirks. 

"Who's authority, Harry?" You whisper for some reason, but this feels like the part of town where you whisper. Without answering, he turns his back to you, looking down at his phone again before knocking on the door several times and pocketing it. And it opens. Harry gives a vague riddle, and the next thing you know, you are being pulled behind a doorway in the Red Light District of Amsterdam. 

⁙⁙⁙⁙⁙⁙⁙⁙⁙⁙⁙⁙⁙⁙⁙⁙⁙⁙⁙⁙⁙⁙⁙⁙⁙⁙⁙⁙⁙⁙⁙⁙⁙⁙⁙⁙⁙⁙⁙⁙⁙⁙⁙⁙⁙⁙⁙⁙

It's a theater. A rather large one, with three stages, or one big stage with two diving walls. Each location was wide enough to have stairs leading from the vast audience to each stage. In the back was a bar, lit dimly with a few scattered patrons. But in the center of the room, the audience seating was…different. 

For one, the place was packed with patrons. For seating, there were booths and small tables, but closer to the stage were cabana-type seating, with some sort of private walls made of flowy dark satin curtains. The whole space was draped in dark purple, black, and gold. The lights were low, completely dim, if not for the stage light and the small lamps scattered about on some tables. The music was quiet yet thumping. You could feel the bass in your chest, and the vibrations did nothing to help the ache between your thighs. 

But, the stages. 

That's where the center of all attention in the large room was and where your eyes were glued the entire time Harry pulled you through the theater to your reserved booth. 

"Sit, baby." Harry smiles, tugging your hand for you to follow him into the rounded booth. You look down at him, then behind you, realizing you are blocking people's view. "You like it?" Harry asks, draping an arm around your shoulder as you shrug off his jacket, draping it across your lap. Covering what your dress doesn't. 

My clever girl, Harry thinks. 

"Is this -" 

"This is the show," he whispers down into your ear. "See, each one is a different stage of arousal. See?" he explains, looking out onto the stages. You get a perfect view of all three stages from where you two are seated. You notice a few smaller platforms scattered throughout the room and at either side of the stage, to the right and left. On each platform stood a woman, fully exposed, moving to the music and flowing with the lights that danced across her skin. It was art. 

On the stage closest to you and Harry was a couple, a man and a woman. He was much larger than her, similar to you and Harry's size difference. He towered over her as he caressed her cheek. Their movements were slow and sensual but deliberate as they stood center stage, with nothing but a chair on stage beside them. You were so focused on them and the music and the lights you didn't notice Harry reaching into his pocket, retrieving the remote for the toy. Only when it was too late did you realize. As you feel the toy's vibrations, you reach over, gripping Harry's knee underneath the tiny cocktail table. A small squeak escaped your lips. 

"Shhh…baby, be good. Be quiet for me, okay?" 

"Yeah." you quip out, digging your nails into his thigh, causing him to hiss. 

"Use me how you need, baby," he whispers tightly into your ear, and you have to bite your lower lip to keep from moaning out in this theater. Not that anyone would hear the music and the noises coming from the women on the stage; there must have been microphones on stage with how clear their moans rang through the room.  

Another woman was on the stage to the far right of where you were. She was alone, besides the assortment of toys next to her, but by the looks and sounds of it, she didn't need any of it. No, she was doing just fine the old-fashioned way.  

Then you take in the stage to the left of you. You have to turn your head a little to get a full view of it all, and once you do, the grip on Harry's knee tightens. It was two women in the throws of passion, in a position you've only ever dreamed of. They lay on each of their sides, facing opposite directions, faces buried in each other's thighs. 

"I picked this show for them. Especially. I know you'd love them." He turns the vibrator up, but only a nudge, still a low hum, and nothing to write home about. But with the images and sounds surrounding you, it was enough to drive you mad. His lips linger at your year a second too long, his breath sending those pleasant tingles all over your body. "And Him," he says, drawing your attention back to the stage closest to you. 

The couple is half dressed now, her breasts exposed, and he - well, you know why Harry said what he did. The man was a sight to behold. He couldn't hold a candle to Harry size-wise, but he was impressive and above average. And he didn't even appear to be fully erect. The woman was working on changing that, it seemed. You watched as she took his impressive length into her much smaller hand and pumped him slow, up and down. You looked over at Harry, who couldn't keep his eyes off you. 

"You're missing the show," you whisper as he licked his bottom lip before tugging it between his teeth. You mirrored his action. 

"No, I'm not." He smirked, "Eyes, forward." he demanded softly. He turns up the vibe once again as you watch the woman drop to her knees in front of the man, who's opted to sit in the provided chair. From the way he is sitting in the chair to the side, you have a perfect view of the woman wrapping her lips around him with a pornographic moan. You couldn't help but suck in a breath. Suddenly, you were longing for the weight of Harry to be on your tongue. To feel him fill your mouth, your throat, to hear him groan as you reached up to play with his balls. You craved it. 

 For a split second, you looked around the crowded room. You are taking in the sights and sounds. There were a couple of groups, some people kissing and some whispering to one another, but every eye was locked on that stage. All except Harry, that is. You turn your attention back on the two girls, and they're both cuddled up to each other on a makeshift bed of sheets and pillows on stage, basking in an assumed post-orgasm glow. Harry catches the pout on your lips immediately. 

"I missed it." 

"You better pay attention then," He chuckles, "with all your sense. Not just sight. Listen, smell…feel." 

Feel. 

Oh, this damn egg! The hum of the vibrator is ever-present between your thighs now. Though it's not enough vibration to relieve the ache that's developed, it is starting to get you to that place that makes you warm and fuzzy rather quickly. And you want more, need more. So you turn to face him, landing a sweet peck on his lips. Then, leaning your forehead to his for a moment and leaning into his ear, whispering, "Harry, can I get more, please." You beg, sweetly. He pulls you away from him by the chin, kissing your nose. 

"No. Watch the show." He says and smiles when you huff at him, wiggling in the booth for some much-needed relief, your attention back to center stage. He pinches your arm lightly, "Don't do that, either. You know the rules. Take what I give you." he recites. You nod in understanding and try to focus on the show center stage. 

The woman has the man's cock fully down her throat now, and she sucked him with such enthusiasm, and his head was thrown back in such ecstasy it nearly gave you cock envy. When she finally came up for air with an animated throw of her head, she stood up from her spot between his legs before sitting on his lap, wrapping his arms around his shoulder. She leans in, kissing him slowly as his hands roamed all over her body. Groping, and kneading…spanking. That's when you feel his lips on your neck. And you are going to lose your mind. Was this hot? Absolutely. But you needed Harry like you've never before, and being unable to do anything about it was killing you. 

"Harry, I don't know how much longer I can-"You were close. Embarrassingly close. 

"Okay." He hums, and the next thing you know, the vibrations between your legs stopped. You let out a deep sigh, something mixed with frustration and relief. "There, now….you can focus. Watch them." Harry instructs. 

So you do. You watch. You watch as she slowly takes his length into her hand, pumping him a few moments before sinking down onto him. You hear her moans as she gets fully seated on him, setting a pace. Harry couldn't help but watch and hear your breath hitch as hers did. Knowing what you were thinking, knowing that you were thinking about him. How he feels inside you, stretching you out, making you feel full. He knew because he couldn't help but think about the same. 

As the woman on stage picked up her pace, bouncing on the man's cock up and down, swiveling her hips, you felt it again. The buzzing of the toy between your thighs. 

"Harry," you whisper, gripping onto his thigh again. 

"Shhh, you're okay," he assures but places a quick peck on your shoulder, momentarily drawing your attention to him. "Do you want it off?" He asks, checking in. 

"No!" you rush out, and he smiles at Cheshire's grin before turning it up two more notches. Your grip on his thigh tightens as you bite your lip, turning back to the stage. 

She is close now, you can tell. Her pace is quicker more frantic, and the noises. God, the noises she was making were heavenly, mixed with his groans as you watched him lunge forward, attaching his lips to her chest. 

Harry takes his other hand that wasn't wrapped around you, tangling his fingers with yours, giving them a comforting squeeze. 

"Harry, please." 

"No, baby." He says sternly. He knew what you were asking for, and as much as he hated saying no to you, he wouldn't let you come in public. Even if you were hidden by the walls of the tall booth, even if no one was watching, he would never allow it. When it came to you, Harry was selfish, and when it came to your pleasure and who got to see you in your most intimate moments, he was downright protective. 

Just as the woman on stage reached her peach, you were about to tell Harry that you couldn't hold it. That you couldn't take anymore without coming, the vibrator stops. You lean over, resting your head on Harry's shoulder. 

"I was so close." you pout.

"I know. But I'll take care of you when we get back. I promise."

🎄🎄🎄🎄

kinkmas 2023 masterlist 

🎄🎄🎄🎄

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

Dirty Work 7

Warnings: this fic will include dark content such as bullying, familial discord/abuse, and possible untagged elements. My warnings are not exhaustive, enter at your own risk.

This is a dark!fic and explicit. 18+ only. Your media consumption is your own responsibility. Warnings have been given. DO NOT PROCEED if these matters upset you.

Summary: You start a new gig and find one of your clients to be hard to please.

Characters: Loki

Note: This week is killing me.

As per usual, I humbly request your thoughts! Reblogs are always appreciated and welcomed, not only do I see them easier but it lets other people see my work. I will do my best to answer all I can. I’m trying to get better at keeping up so thanks everyone for staying with me.

Your feedback will help in this and future works (and WiPs, I haven’t forgotten those!)

I love you all immensely. Take care. 💖

Sunday sees your second day in your new position. As you send off your letter of resignation to the agency, you can't help the coil that winds tight in your stomach. There's no going back now.

You close out of the several templates you Googled in your efforts. It's the one thing you know how to do. Willa, the friendly librarian who checked out the PC for you, always said, if you can Google, you can figure it out. Still, you feel like there's so much you don't know that you're not sure a search engine can answer.

You close the laptop and take both your phones with you into the hallway. You have to go check out that gazebo and figure out if you need to make a call about it. Oh, and the fridge was beeping when you filled your bottle, you have to call the maintenance number that flashed up too.

That makes you even more anxious. You've never really been the sort for phone calls. You never had anyone to talk to and everything else was easier done in person. Well, you'll have to muddle through. Work isn't supposed to be fun or easy.

As you near the staircase, your flip chimes. You juggle to answer the right phone. The slim touchscreen is set only to buzz, an option not available on the clumsy burner. You answer the call as you stop on the top stair.

The woman on the other end asks for you by name. You confirm your identity as you hear familiar noises in the background. She's a nurse from the downtown hospital.

“I'm calling to confirm your father's discharge tomorrow at noon,” she says over the rustle of paper and clack of keys, “we'll need the bed so if there is any delay, another day would be added to the invoice.”

“I understand, I'll be there, erm… noon. Tomorrow,” you don't have your notebook so you key a reminder into the other phone. “Thank you for letting me know.”

“Of course, miss, we would recommend you arrive earlier. We have some resources and counseling available on what you can expect getting the patient settled at home,” she continues, “nine would be ideal. I'll be able to add a note for the doctor to check in as well.”

“Oh, yes, I can do that,” you squeak, “thank you.”

“Alright then, I have all that logged. You have a good day.”

“You too,” you utter before the line dies.

Phone calls weren't too bad. You think you did okay with that one. Then again, you didn't think! You're supposed to work tomorrow. Mr. Laufeyson said you could take Wednesday off, and tomorrow is only Monday.

You close the flip phone and stare at it. Oh boy. You really don't want to spoil this. Just the mention of the coming invoice underlines your desperation. You need the money. Your dad needs it.

“Are you finished?” Mr. Laufeyson's timbre drawls from down the hall. You glance over as he stands just in the doorway of his study. You gulp.

“Sorry, Mr. Laufeyson. I didn't mean to disturb–”

“Yet you did,” he insists.

“I was only going to check–”

“Not my concern so long as it's done,” he waves you off, “an important call, I assume, to make such a racket.”

“Mr. Laufeyson, um,” you shove the phones away, one in each of your pockets. “I… could I have the day tomorrow? Instead of Wednesday. My father is getting out of the hospital and–”

“The day? What time?” He snips as he approaches with decisive steps.

“Well, I'm supposed to go at nine,” you explain, “I'll come in Wednesday still.”

“You will come in tomorrow, after all that,” he says. “You can work later then.”

“Yes, Mr. Laufeyson, but my father will need help getting settled–”

“Figure it out. You agreed to this schedule–”

“I did but–” you stop yourself as his eyes flare, “I will be here in the afternoon, Mr. Laufeyson.”

“You will be. In the appropriate attire, I expect,” he snarls and spins to strut back to his office, swinging the door shut sharply.

You waver at the hard slam. You didn't mean to anger him. You can't help that your father needs you. You thought Mr. Laufeyson would be more understanding, after all, he's the one who pointed out how much you needed the money.

🧹

Your father shoos you away as you try to help him sit. He lets go of the walker and flops back with a grunt, his oxygen tank clinking against the aid’s metal leg. He coughs and snatches around blindly on the cushion for the remote. You retrieve it from the folding table beside him and put it in his hand.

That agitates him further as he growls and jams down the button to turn on the television. You yawn and back away. You still have a full day left ahead of you, and what feels like one behind you. You spent the night doing some last minute tidying to make sure everything is read for your father.

“Smokes,” he snaps his fingers and hacks.

“Er,” you hesitate. You go to find the half-crushed pack you found with him on the floor. You knew better than to throw it out. You return to him, clutching the package nervously, “Dr. Shearer said–”

“Give it to me,” he demands.

You relent and obey. He’s been doubly miserable than before. You feel like an annoying gnat buzzing around his head as he tries to swat you away.

“I made you meals for the weak. They’re all labeled in the fridge–”

“I’m not a goddamn kid,” he scowls and takes the lighter from the folding table.

“I know, but–”

“But I’m home. You probably hate that,” he sneers, “you’d be happy if I died in that hospital.”

You’re taken aback by the accusation. You gasp and shake your head, “of course not, I’m happy you’re here. That you’re alive–”

“Painfully,” he snorts darkly, “the fuck you keep me here for?”

You take a breath and frown. Your eyes tinge and your cheeks pinch, “because you're my dad… and I love you,” you croak.

He doesn’t reply as he pulls out a cigarette and moves the tube from below his nose. You watch him, waiting. He lights the smoke and sucks on it eagerly. You drop your head and give a shrug.

“I gotta go to work,” you say, “I’ll see you tonight.”

“Don’t be slamming around when you come in,” he dusts ash over the freshly vacuumed carpet, “doctor said I needa sleep.”

“I won’t,” you promise and back away.

As you leave the room, your chest plummets in dread. You think of coming home, of finding him like you did before, laying on the floor, lifeless. You sniff and swipe away the speckling of tears. More than you want him to love you, you want him to love himself. You don’t just want him to want you around, you want him to be around.

🧹

You hurry up to Mr. Laufeyson’s gate with your kit and water bottle jostling. You fumble around until you find the smartphone and bring up the digits to punch into the code box. You buzz through and shuffle inside. You set off on your usual path around the back.

You stop at the rear door and try to untangle the strap of the water bottle from your kit. Your hand lingers on the front of the ballooning shirt. You still haven’t gone to look for clothes so you did your best with what you had. One of your father’s forgotten button-ups and a pair of pants that could pass in an office. It’s ill-fitting and scratch but better than jeans.

You get inside and leave your kit in the closet. Today’s a cleaning day but you have a few things to check off the schedule first. With your water bottle bouncing on your hip, you go upstairs and scurry down to the library.

As you enter, you’re surprised to discover the space less than empty. You apologise aloud and choke on the word, ‘mister’. It isn’t the house’s single resident as you expect, no, this figure could not be more different than Mr. Laufeyson. You recognise them, from the dinner.

The blond man faces you as he stands by the window, the drapes open to add the peculiarity of the situation. Like the man, the space is golden with sunlight. You lean back on your heel as you clutch the door handle.

“Hello,” he grins as he greets you in a playful demeanour. You can’t answer. You don’t know if you should. 

Is it rule one; don’t speak unless permitted; or the other rule, do not disturb my guests. You can’t figure out the riddle so you languish in perplexity.

“Aren’t you a sweet little lamb,” he muses as he steps away from the window, placing his hands on the back of the dimpled leather chair. His large hands. If you thought Mr. Laufeyson was tall, this man is even taller and twice as wide. “I remember you. The sweet maid.”

You blink. Where is Mr. Laufeyson? You can’t speak. You’re too terrified; not just of the strange man but of the one you know by name. Your employer would be unhappy to know you spoke out of turn.

“Have you seen my brother at all?” He prompts disregarding your stagnant silence. “Has he spoken of me? His brother? I'm Thor.”

You look down at your hand on the door handle.

“And what is your name?” He asks.

You don’t answer. You know it’s not right but you have no other choice. You pull the door shut and close the man in. You retreat in a half-sprint and barrel back down the stairs. You trip at the bottom and barely save yourself from stumbling to your knees.

You latch onto the banister post to keep your balance and catch your breath. You hear the door above. Oh no, would he follow you? Another door clicks and you look up to find a shadow on the other side of the frosted glass framed in the front entrance.

Mr. Laufeyson steps inside coolly, unbothered as swings the door shut and tugs on the lapel of his suit jacket. His eyes fall on you and he scuffs on his sole, tilting his head in curiosity. You didn’t realise he hadn’t even been there. You look at the ceiling with wide eyes; so how was the other man inside?

“Well, there you are,” he says matter-of-factly, “this place is sore in need of a dusting–”

Laufeyson is interrupted by a clamour of footsteps above. You let go of the banister and sidle away as his green eyes flick to the top to the staircase. You shy away and listen as the man descends in a series of thunder thumps. You turn to peek down the hall, wanting to hide in your chores.

“Stay,” Laufeyson commands. You turn back to him as he points at your feet. You stop in place and sway. He faces his visitor as he comes to the bottom stair, “brother, what is the meaning of this intrusion?”

“Can I not come see my baby brother?” The other man; the stranger; his brother, called Thor, booms.

“You may, when you warn me of it,” Laufeyson rebuffs.

“Ah, don’t be so grim,” Thor claps his shoulders and is swiftly shrugged off, “this place is always so dark. I hope you don’t mind, I opened a few windows.”

“I do mind,” Laufeyson says, “you do always presume.”

“And you are always offer such a warm welcome,” he tries to tap Laufeyson’s cheek but is batted away. The dark of the brothers backs up with a scoff. “Ah, and there she is. I was only just coming to find the little maid. She rushed off so suddenly–”

“You don’t need to bother with her,” Laufeyson dismissed with a slice of his hand through the air, “maid,” he points at you again, “back to work.”

You lean back on your heel, ready to disappear.

“Ah, don’t be so rude, brother. She is sweet. You get more bees with honey–”

“Do not tell me how to run my house,” Laufeyson growls, an edge in his voice you’ve never heard before. Dangerous and dark.

“Is she not doing you a service? A please would be appropriate–”

“You are not mother. I don’t need you to mind my manners,” Laufeyson girds and nears his brother, unflinching even as he comes up a few inches short of chest to chest, “nor do you need to worry for my staff. She does not take orders from you.”

“And I suppose that’s all she gets from you,” Thor chuckles.

You furrow your brow, stunned by their spat. You’re not quite sure what that last bit meant. You work for Mr. Laufeyson so of course he would tell you what to do. And why are they so volatile? They’re brothers. You don’t have any siblings but you always wanted one. So that you had a friend. So you weren’t alone. 

“Maid, go,” Laufeyson repeats, “now.”

Your eyes widen and you nod. You quickly turn and rush down the hall to the closet. You’re shaking as you try to sort out one phone from the other and find the old list of tasks. You can hardly steady your hands to get a pair of gloves on.

You take your time in the back of the house as you hear the men’s footfalls climb the staircase. You let your nerves settle just a little. You’re alone, for now, and your mission is simple. Clean and stay unseen.

[tadpoles-and-daydreams]

A witchcraft basics doc; update, resource call, interest check, and a possible second doc

Bet most of you didn't even know I was working on this >:D

Yes this is a huge post. It's a lot of things.

So, one of my first posts ever on this blog was me mentioning that a friend of mine had NO clue what they were signing up for when asking for the basics of witchcraft. The google doc I wrote took on a life of its own, and the post did as well when people started asking for it. I still plan to tag said people when I post it, assuming they haven't deactivated. The thing is, this doc had become a proper project, and it took a long time for me to have the motivation to work on it again. Now, though, it seems to me like a damn good way to reconnect to my craft after a rut! (which, by the way, is why I've been offline.)

So, my first post back is for a couple of reasons. For one, if you have any resources you'd think would be useful for beginner witches, feel free to shoot me an ask, DM, or comment/reblog on this post! I'll have a list of things I'm putting in the doc (taking recommendations there as well) at the bottom of this post.

The other thing is that I might end up making a second doc, one that's a little less "101" in vibe. It would have a MAJOR MAJOR UPG warning on it, first off, and I'm not sure whether or not I would be marking any UPG either since this would essentially be a second Grimoire/Book of Shadows for me that would be public to others for the sake of sharing information! I can't say I'd call it "advanced witchcraft" by any means, I'm not very fancy lol, but I don't want the basics doc to get too overwhelming. I do, however, want to scream about random witchcraft topics that interest me. So this is also a bit of an interest check for that, as well as the basics doc.

FINAL NOTE: I fully plan on posting this basics doc before it's done. Some sections will be unwritten or unfinished, because if I wait until I find it "finished" I'll never post it. It's going to be added onto whenever I can, but I feel as though getting it out is the best course of action.

A list of stuff in the doc that I'd take resources on (AKA everything planned in it) with * by anything that will be left unwritten/unfinished on purpose until I know more. I will take resources and recommendations on EVERYTHING though. This is in no particular order:

grounding and centering

VOCAB (intention, intuition, UPG/SPG/VPG, appropriation. probably others I'm forgetting.

candle, plant, crystals and safety* (as well as any other tools one might need safety tips for. This is left completely unwritten as I use very few tools of this type.)

deity work* (the whole debate surrounding when to start, as well as information about it. Will include smth about house rules/boundaries. My work is very casual, I'd love to see different POV's of this! This is by nature left unfinished because deity work is so unique to the witch.)

grimoire/book of shadows

tools of the craft* (common tools and how to use them consumerism in witchcraft, etc.)

cleansing

appropriation* (I don't know near enough about this, I just check what's in my own practice. I would like this to include a list of commonly appropriated closed practices, a definition of appropriation and why it shouldn't be done, open pantheons, and common open practices.)

spellwork*

meditation

where someone could go from here* (including sigils, tarot, crystals bc my friend likes rocks lol, maybe astrology but oh god I have nothing about that it makes my brain hurt just looking at an astrology chart /pos. I will probably make a list of stuff that I could add in this section.)

casual/daily/quick/low energy practices and witchcraft

paganism and witchcraft; overlap, what they are individually, why one might be for you rather than the other, etc.*

there'd be a credit section for anyone who wants to be credited for links/resources at the end! If you send me resources plz specify if you want to be included in that or not.

Things I might include in the second doc if I make it:

the craft and mental health and my experiences with it

things commonly touched on in the community (your deities don't hate you, cycles of inactivity and burnout, other things I'm forgetting rn)

deity-specific things, more specific topics of the craft, etc. yet another reminder that this would all include UPG, possibly unmarked, because it would basically be primarily used to give me motivation to research more.

[incorrectbatfam]

Have the Gooners had any direct or indirect encounters with any supervillains?

Interviewer: Tell me why you want to intern at LexCorp.

Booker: LexCorp? The ad said something else.

Interviewer: LexCorp is our parent company.

Booker: I see.

[later that day]

Booker: *finds an ad for criminals wanting an intern*

Booker: Well, it's either this or LexCorp.

Booker: *applies*

———————

Riddler: Behold, my ultimate puzzle!

Riddler: *clicks a remote*

Riddler: Why isn't the screen working?

Henchman: It's the new software update. I'm calling tech support.

Henchman: *calls*

Mac, on the other end: Best Buy Geek Squad, how may I assist you?

———————

[a year ago]

Gene's coworker: Hey Gene, can you do me a favor?

Gene: I would, but I'm totally swamped with this one guy's tax returns.

Gene's coworker: Which one?

Gene: Someone named Harvey Dent. There are so many discrepancies, it's like he's living two lives.

———————

Milo: *driving*

Milo: *sees a pedestrian*

Milo: *slams the brakes and honks*

Harley: Hey, I'm walkin' here!

———————

Otto: Morning, Basil. The usual wash?

Clayface: *nods*

Otto: Sounds good. I'll get your car clay-free in half an hour.

———————

[two years ago]

Cobblepot: Bartender, another drink!

Molly: Sir, I'm afraid I'm gonna have to cut you off.

Cobblepot: Who owns this lounge? Who's paying your salary?

Molly: Fine, what'll it be?

Cobblepot: Our finest red wine, of course.

Molly: Good choice.

Molly: *slips a sedative when he's not looking*

Molly: Here you go. Have a good night.

Cobblepot: What?

Molly: Nothing.

———————

[three years ago]

Talia: For this drill, I want to focus on distance. Team A, take the turrets. Team B, you're on the ground with arrows.

Kellin: *grabs a bow*

Talia: And... fire!

Kellin: *fires an arrow*

*arrow hits an oil lamp*

*lamp falls next to Ra's*

*cape catches fire*

———————

Blaise: *googles how to make his weed plants grow faster*

Blaise: *clicks on a video*

The video: Good afternoon, gardeners and plant lovers. I'm Dr. Pamela Isley and today I'll be showing you how to...

———————

[three years ago]

Scarecrow's assistant: Sir, one of your employees wants to see you.

Scarecrow: Send him in.

Rob: Dr. Crane, I'm Rob Steeler. I'm one of the people who intercepted that shipment containing the last ingredient you need for your new fear gas.

Scarecrow: And what do you need?

Rob: Can these other guys step out of the room? It's kind of personal.

Scarecrow: *waves them out*

Rob: *points a gun at Scarecrow*

Scarecrow: Somebody's feeling fearless.

Rob: Your new formula cost me the love of my life. I can see you reaching under your desk for some fear gas and I'm telling you right now, it won't work because the thing I'm most afraid of already came true.

Scarecrow: So you seek revenge.

Rob: Tempting, but no. I want an out—from you, your organization, and your operations. I don't want you or any of your big-shot Rogue connections to come anywhere near me or my family.

Scarecrow: And if I refuse?

Rob: *shoots the wall behind Scarecrow*

Scarecrow: Very well, have it your way. Best of luck finding any semblance of success. You and I both know you will live and die a common thief.

Rob: We'll revisit that when we meet in hell.

[ichasewaterfalls]

CAR OMORASHI.

By reading this, you verify that you are 18+ years old, and understand the content you’re about to read is considered NSFW and omorashi-linked, and therefore unsuitable to minors.

I tried to keep the heightening urge to pee in the back of my mind as we sped down the highway towards the mountains. We’d only been driving for an hour or so, and I didn’t want to inconvenience Jake just yet. I was sure that I had a good few more miles left in me before it escalated to emergency status. I’d turned down the initial toilet break before we left, confident in my holding ability and wanting to keep to our strict schedule in order to get to Jake’s parents house before Christmas Eve.

Dismissing the thought from my mind, I instead scrolled the plan I’d written for our trip. Itineraries for each day, special activities for us all, and even a family photoshoot for the entire group. I’d taken joy in planning every family reunion since Jake and I got married 4 years ago. Admittedly, I’d also taken control the 2 years we were engaged, and the 3 years of dating. So with 9 years of planning under my belt, I was confident I knew how to create the perfect festive bash.

That wasn’t the only thing under my belt. My bladder reminded me of its existence as Jake merged rapidly into the left-most lane, and I shivered randomly as a wave of urgency fell down my spine.

‘What the hell? You’re supposed to be in the right lan-‘

Before I told him off for his directional mishap, I looked up quickly to see the lane was blocked off, a massive spill of hay all over the road. Should’ve thought of this as a possibility, since we were just passing the thresholds between country farms and mountainous ranges. My bladder seemed to be passing a threshold too, between uncomfortable and urgent.

‘We’ll have to go the back way. It’ll be about 45 extra minutes added to the journey.’

I sighed with frustration, 45 minutes? Not only did it throw us off schedule, it meant longer for me to hold my increasingly aching bladder.

‘I’ll text your mom.’ I scoffed, quickly shooting the group chat a text to let them know we’d be a bit late. As I put my phone down again, I crossed my legs and placed my hands on my lap, preparing myself to have to place a hand or two between my legs to hold myself.

I must have been shaking without notice, but Jake obviously did. He always did.

‘You alright there? Need a bathroom break?’

‘N-no, I’m fine. I- Yes I need a bathroom break.’

‘I’m not sure where the closest facility is on this road. I don’t normally drive the backroads to mom’s. I’m sure we’ll figure it out babe.’

The drive continued, and so did my need for a bathroom. I now had one hand between my legs, and another hand scanning Google Maps, trying to find any relief stops near us. But of course, rural mountain roads aren’t the most reliable source of internet connection. I thought about asking Jake to stop so I could get out and go, but since everyone was diverted, like us, we had cars in front and behind us. And with narrow, slippery roads, there wasn’t enough space to stop and pull over, or safely get off the road. A sinking feeling set in. My sense of chivalry was no longer important to me, he was my husband after all.

‘Jake it’s getting worse, I need to find relief ASAP.’

‘I don’t know how to help babe, I’m trying.’

He was obviously noticing the severity of the situation, as he placed his foot on the gas, going up to the safest speed limit for these roads. I watched him stare at me anxiously as I shoved both hands inside my pants, trying to hold back the pee from escaping.

As the car climbed higher into the range, my need for a bathroom reached a breaking point, and the urgency in my voice became palpable. "Jake," I gasped, my face contorted with discomfort, "I really can't hold it much longer."

"I know, Clara," Jake signed, his eyes scanning the horizon for any sign of civilization or a restroom. "Just a little longer, okay? Let's try some deep breathing together."

He reached over, placing one hand on my shoulder to guide me through deep, calming breaths. "Inhale deeply...hold it for a moment...now exhale slowly," he coached, trying to keep his voice steady despite the rising panic.

I squeezed my eyes shut, gripping the seatbelt tightly. "It's not working, Jake," I whimpered, my voice trembling with desperation.

But as the minutes ticked by, my resolve wavered. I clutched the dashboard, my face flushed with embarrassment and defeat. "Jake," I whispered, tears forming in her eyes, "I can't...I'm so sorry."

Before Jake could respond, the inevitable happened. My efforts to hold it in proved futile, as the pee rushed out of me, soaking my jeans and the car seat beneath me.

For a moment, silence filled the car, save for my muffled sobs and Jake's stunned expression. The weight of the situation hung heavy between us.

"I'm so sorry, Jake," I managed to choke out, tears streaming down her face.

Jake took a deep breath, reaching over to comfort me. "It's okay sweetheart," he said softly, his voice filled with empathy and understanding. "Accidents happen. We'll figure this out together."

[victimsofyaoipoll]

Round 3

Propaganda Under Cut

Kairi

kairi is the third protagonist of the kingdom hearts series and the third member of the destiny trio, alongside fan favorites sora and riku. sora/riku shippers HATE kairi, and will go out of their way to discount her at every turn. the hate for her ranges from typical "she's a boring bitch" to fans of soriku making five-hour long video essays reassuring their fellow shippers that the big bad kairi won't show up in the next installment – to quote one video, "she's in a box. she's on the shelf. four walls, no door." kairi is the greatest bogeyman the soriku fandom has ever known, to the point where most of said video essays and fanon meta posts focus not on why sora and riku should get together, but rather on why they don't like kairi.

Literally has a 100+ page Google doc fan theory writing her out of the narrative and putting all of her (few) canonical accomplishments onto half of the popular m/m ship (soriku). Don't even get me started on how her memory was completely written out of the canon plot of re:coded. KH is a nightmare to explain so dude trust me she is THE victim of yaoi

She is so fundamental to the plot and themes and narratives of game and yet it is near impossible to find anything about her thats not ship bashing pre-mlm with the other two characters. I dont even care if she ends up with one of the main characters i just want fans to see her as a cool character to love or like, anything other than “annoying comphet girl.” You can write your mlm but pleaae stop inventing comphet where it doesnt exist. She does not even get to spend time with sora ever?? Why does everyone see her as a threat and a thing to destroy?? Let her have friends so help me

Misa Amane

she gets treated in-canon the way fandoms treat female characters that Threaten an m/m ship. it's like, "oh why don't you go sit in the corner and be pretty, misa, while the Men have intelligent conversation and pretend they aren't ten seconds from fucking each other, doesn't that sound nice?" it's infuriating. and MAYBE it's better now but i remember her getting treated the same way in fanfiction too, like we all need to do just as badly by our female secondary characters as fucking tsugumi ohba, but with the added insult of making her be alternately oblivious of the relationship between light and L or actively trying to sabotage it—incompetently, of course, because god forbid misa be allowed dignity or moments of cleverness.

she's one of the first characters I think of when I consider old school fandom misogyny. The annoying bitch and clingy crazy gf allegations were AFTER HER ASS. She's also a lot more intelligent than people gave her credit for, but most seem inclined to take the Very Biased word of our unreliable, narcissistic narrator and his homoerotic arch nemesis and claim that just because she's bubbly and into romance that she's also a complete moron. Which is blatantly untrue. Everyone was afraid of Misa girlbossing too hard. Killing people and devoting yourself to the deranged twink of your dreams even though you know he'll never love you back??? Having a hardcore goth aesthetic and being so Hot even literal Death Gods are into you?? God forbid women do ANYTHING!

Not only is she the victim of yaoi culture, she is the victim of early 2000s misogyny by an author that wanted to introduce a girl character because he knew his male rivals were getting too homoerotic. She is a goth bimbo icon who portrays what I think is one of the few callouts for stan culture and what parasocial relationships can do to both the stan and the idol. The fact that she is a toxic fan of Kira and also hot, funny, sociable is tragic in its own way, which I think the author did try to touch on but was too misogynistic too really get through. Of course, she was reduced to villain status by the fandom and anime alike because she got in the way of the supposed romance in their psychological horror anime.

[ihatedtoadmit]

The Windows To My Soul [1]

pairing: OT8 x fem! reader (gender is rarely mentioned)

genre: soulmates, angst, fluff (mostly in the later chapters)

warnings: almost being kidnapped, occasional curse word

word count: ~3.8k

summary: Attending your favourite idols' concert didn't go as planned, not at all.

↳ Masterlist ↳ Next chapter

All rights reserved. Please do not steal, repost or feed my work into AI. Thank you!

I looked around the unfamiliar streets, my worried expression hidden under my mask and Eevee cap, the latter’s ears flapping around with my jerky head movements. Uselessly looking at the street signs, I sighed, unable to read them in this foreign country.

I had travelled to Japan with a friend, purely to watch the Stray Kids' concert they had held just earlier that day. If we wanted to see them live once in our lives, we had no choice, with us living in a small country in Europe. And as we all knew, idols didn't usually hold concerts in Europe, making international fans cry out in despair all over the world. Either way, we decided to join the japanese concerts, us being fans of the country itself as well, due to our love for anime and manga.

But now I stood in the streets alone, typing directions into google maps on my phone, to at least try to get to the train station. You see, my friend came with her boyfriend and they had booked a place to stay at together. She had offered to let me stay without an ounce of hesitation, but I didn't want to be a bother and intrude. So, I’d booked a place by myself, but by the time I had gotten around to it, everything in that city near the concert or even my friend's place had already been booked. I had no choice but to choose a place at a hotel that was far away, far enough that you could only reach it with a train from the concert's location.

Come on me, I was a big girl, I could do this. I got here somehow -still had no idea how, with my anxiety and horrible navigation skills-, I could find my way back too.

So with a quiet, nervous sigh, I started following the directions shown on my phone, head slightly bopping to the music that filtered through my headphones that sat snugly on my ears, over my cap. Of course the pleasant and energetic tunes were from the same band I had seen hours ago on stage, but with the added background noise of the late city life, thanks to the ambient aware option on my headphones.

The train I needed to reach wouldn't leave for a good while, so I could slightly relax and look around the cement jungle without having to hurry needlessly. It was interesting to see how different, yet in a way, similar it was to my own country. Sure, the buildings' style was different, the streets were more busy and bright, but some shops were the same or really similar. It was nice, to just not feel completely alien and lost in a foreign city.

Although one thing that kept happening was that people kept staring at me. Naturally, it was bound to happen with my slightly over 6 feet height in Japan of all places, but the added combo of my Eevee outfit only strengthened it. Some people even outright complimented me, making me awkwardly bow and thank them in my limited japanese knowledge. To my utter surprise, some even asked for a selfie or a photo, undoubtedly making my cheeks dust with red, all evidence hidden under my mask and scarf.

Things seemed to be going well, until the time of day was starting to run out and the streets were slowly but surely becoming empty. The fact that my GPS was taking me through slightly questionable roads didn't help in the matter at all.

Then I heard it.

Footsteps, somewhere behind me, never stopping.

At first, I didn't think too much of it, but then my paranoid mind made me pause my music on my phone, the device buried in the depths of my pocket. I didn't stop and look around, merely continued to walk towards my destination to not seem suspicious, something my gut told me to avoid at all cost.

Then I listened.

The footsteps were still there, something that didn't change no matter how much I had walked. They were also weird, rhythm-wise. They felt unnatural, as if the person didn't usually walk like that. Their rhythm was also suspiciously like mine, the sound of our steps usually mixing together into one, making me listen keenly for several minutes to confirm my suspicions.

My pulse picked up, skyrocketing into the stratosphere.

I had heard about the dangerous things that could happen on the late night streets of Japan, my mind now on overdrive as I tried to act natural, as if I was clueless still.

I had to get away from this person somehow, I didn't want any of those horrors to happen to me, just the mere thought made my skin crawl and head hurt.

I shouldn't have turned down my friend's offer, being a third wheel would have been so much safer.

My eyes fluttered down onto my phone and my heart skipped a beat.

I was walking in the wrong way.

Amidst my panic, I must have taken several wrong turns, because now I was dangerously far away from the train station. Maybe if I hurried I could have made it, a debatable thought in itself, but that was the last thing on my mind as I heard people chatting from my right. Turning my head over there, I was met with bright lights from advertisement boards and all kinds of fairy lights, the fact that I was in a dark alley registering in my mind only then.

I didn't hesitate to make my way over there with quick steps, my long legs carrying me swiftly and quickly towards my desired goal.

But not quick enough.

Before I could reach the main street, I was grabbed from behind, something being forcefully pushed in front of my face. But probably due to height differences -also thanks to my fluffy scarf and my mask’s added layers of protection-, the person couldn't quite do it quickly and I instinctually elbowed them wherever I could reach.

Based on the grunt he let out, I hit his gut, the arms around me releasing their hold just enough for me to break away and sprint towards the people with all my adrenaline-powered strength.

When I reached the brightly lit street, my eyes looked around the empty place, mind halting to a stop.

Where were the people? I just heard them! Where were they?!

But before I could look around properly, I was tackled to the ground, my arms that instinctually cushioned my fall  flaring up in pain. An instinctual yell left my mouth as I wrestled with him, my scattered mind resorting to shouting in english and broken japanese both.

Just as I thought I was going to be kidnapped, my hands held down and face stuffed with a drenched cloth, the weight on top of me disappeared in an instant.

I didn't really know what just happened, I only heard some shouting -in what language, i wasn't sure anymore- and skin upon skin impact, before the quieting sound of shoes hitting the ground reached my ringing ears.

I simply blinked up at the dark sky as I panted there, head laying on the dirty pavement underneath me as I fought with the nauseating dizziness that was attacking my system violently.

Sometime later -because i wasn't sure how long i had been laying there for-, a figure appeared in my vision, his eyes above his dark mask filled with worry. Sounds came from him, but it all sounded gibberish to me at that moment.

After receiving no reply, he turned to the side to talk to someone, but before he could do anything else, I quickly sat up. He fussed around me, rightfully surprised by my sudden movements, but I cared not as my mind finally caught up to itself.

I quickly tore my damp mask off, hiding my face from the harsh autumn wind with my scarf quickly afterwards, the soft fabric providing me with much needed comfort. Feeling the dark fabric in my hands, it was no wonder that no amount of breathing helped after my attacker had left. It was soaked with most probably chloroform, explaining why I was still feeling so dizzy.

Looking up from the mask, I saw the man who had -probably- saved me, crouched right in front of me. Another man was next to him, taller and more built, dressed in dark clothes. They were talking, but the language they used was definitely not japanese or even english. From the sound of it, it was another asian language, but I couldn't pinpoint which with my extremely limited knowledge and gibberish thoughts.

Not knowing what else to do with my hazy mind, I bowed my head as much as I could towards my saviours, uttering my thanks in japanese. Thankfully, I knew that much from all those years of watching anime and beginner japanese language classes.

They immediately stopped talking, the man who fussed over me earlier saying something along the lines of not a problem in japanese and asking me how I was feeling. I said I was okay, because really, I was, my mind was just a bit foggy. His eyebrows furrowed at my answer, as if he couldn't believe me for some reason. I furrowed my own eyebrows at that and slightly tilted my head to the side, not understanding his confusion.

But when I tried to stand up after putting my cap and headphones back on properly -the latter around my neck this time-, I understood his concern.

I was shaking.

Sure, not extremely, but the slight, unintentional movements of my body were there, clear as day.

"Oh, looks like I lied about being fine, sorry." - I quietly uttered out in english, not even realising that I had switched languages once again. "So I did hear it right, you do speak english." - one of them spoke back, catching me off guard.

"Shit, sorry, it wasn't intentional." - I quickly muttered out, defending myself. "No worries, now I know why you didn't respond to me the first time and just looked lost instead." - he lightly laughed out.

The person next to him extended a hand towards me, and after blinking at it for a few seconds, I finally realised he was just trying to help me up. So, with a purse of my lips and a bow of my head, I thanked him and took his hand. He swiftly pulled me up, checking if I needed some help to stay upright. Seeing that I was alright -as alright as one could be in that situation-, he let me go and talked to the other man in that foreign language once again.

I simply stood there, the weight of what had just happened not fully hitting me yet. Realising that I was still clutching my mask in my hand, I pocketed it and looked towards the only other man on the road besides us three.

He was speaking in that same foreign language, but sometimes he switched over to english. His accent was thick and painfully familiar, along with his deep, melodic voice. I tried to fit the puzzle pieces into their place as I just watched him, how he spoke to his phone, no doubt vlogging or live streaming.

" -y, hey, are you okay? Do you need to sit down?" - a soft touch broke me out of my train of thoughts, his voice -that was also familiar and had a similar accent- laced with worry. "Y-yes, yes, sorry, I was just lost in thought. But thank you two, again, for saving me, I don't know what would have happened if you weren't here. Really, thank you so much." - I rambled out, bowing a few times for good measure. "Hey, it's alright, I'm glad we were here. Do you need help getting home? Where're ya headed to?" "Ah, the train station. But I'll be fine alone… Why are you looking at me like that?" "... The train station is hours away from here, and it's already almost midnight."

Eyes widening at his answer, I took my phone out of my pocket -a miracle it had stayed there, unharmed- and unlocked the screen. Sure enough, he was right. Checking the schedule for the train I needed, no matter how many times I read it over and over again, the letters and numbers didn't change at all.

The last train would depart in 30 minutes, something that I would only reach if I had magically gained the ability to teleport.

My eyes turned glossy as I continued looking at my screen in despair, lower lips caught between my teeth as a way to ground myself.

I couldn't get to my rented out hotel room now.

"Hey, hey, look at me. It's gonna be okay. What's the matter?" - his warm voice reached my ears once again, my eyes flitting up to meet with his. "My…my train… The last one’s gonna depart in 15 mins, something I have no way of reaching. And now I-, I can't get to my hotel room now, I don't have anywhere to stay–" - my voice cut off at the end, worry eating me out from the inside.

Even if I were to call my friend to stay with her and her boyfriend, they were a few hours away from where I ran away to. I had already checked it, multiple times. Somehow I’d walked in the completely wrong direction as I was trying to escape that man.

"It's gonna be okay, trust me, I'll think of something. Why don't you sit down over there and eat this, while I talk to my buddies here, hm?" - he gently said, pointing towards a nearby bench and handing me a lil protein bar from his pocket.

I blinked down at him -because he was considerably shorter than me-, but then I carefully took the offered snack and nodded. I didn't have anything else to do anyway, and I needed to take any help I could get. That much was obvious to me, even in my current situation.

I felt like a pathetic child that needed to be looked after, sitting there on the bench as I snacked on my protein bar in an Eevee cap.

Maybe I was one. I wouldn't be surprised at this point.

Having finished munching on the snack, I pulled my scarf back up and stared emptily at the ground in front of me, hands clutched and resting on my knees that rested tightly clenched together, no doubt causing a faint bruise to form.

I was absolutely fucked, to put it simply.

I had been almost kidnapped in a foreign country, merely hours after I’d had the time of my life at the first concert of my life. Chloroform was probably still lingering in my system and clouding my mind, not to mention that my only friend in this country was long asleep and I had already formed a splitting headache.

Wonderful.

Truly, truly, wonderful.

I couldn't help the sigh that left through my nose, my hand going up to rub at my now dry eyes -contact lenses sadly had that effect-, but stopping when I remembered I had makeup on. I tugged the cap even more into my hurting head, instinctively trying to hide myself magically with the habitual gesture.

Just when I thought about putting my headphones up and calming my still very erratic pulse with some music, the shorter man approached me -the taller one lingering behind-.

He sat down beside me, leaving a comfortable amount of space between us, something my jittery mind much appreciated.

"So, we talked about it, and ya could stay with us for the night if you want to. It's just me and some friends. Of course, you would get your own room, all to yourself. I can bunk with one of my pals for the night no problem. I understand if ya don't trust me, truly I do realise how sketchy my offer sounds, but… I don't want you to stay out here for the night and get hurt even more. I have the opportunity to help, and I want to." - he carefully explained it to me, making sure I was following his sentences actively.

I remained quiet, thinking the offer through.

He was right, it was definitely sketchy as heck, but, what could I do? I could either stay out here on the streets, because everything was either closed or booked already -stupid concert-, or I could go with them.

"Ya can decide a bit later too, ya kno'." - I quickly shook my head gently -that massive headache significantly becoming worse-, cutting him short. "If you guys really don't mind, then… I would like to take your offer." - I gently muttered out, bowing once again in gratitude. "Oh please, stop bowing, ya really don't need to. It's alright, really, none of us bite, I promise. Actually, lemme introduce you to one of my pals, he's been there, live this whole time."

He stood up after he pointed to the aforementioned streamer and I quickly followed him, slightly bowing towards the taller man once again in gratitude as we passed by him. He sheepishly rubbed his neck and waved his hand in front of his face in a dismissive way, probably wanting me to stop bowing, just like the shorter man.

Speaking of which, I watched as he walked up to his buddy, my body slowing to a halt. I didn't want to disturb their job or hobby as well -whatever streaming was to them-, so I stopped before I could enter their phone camera's range.

The other man was slightly taller, but still smaller than me, with blonde strands peeking out from underneath his black beanie. Few freckles sat above his own dark facemask, my eyes squinting at the familiarity.

But once again, my train of thoughts were disrupted before I could come to a much needed conclusion.

"Hey, don't be shy, c’mere. This is Felix, and I'm Christopher, but call me Chris." - he introduced themselves to me as I still didn't go into their camera's range just quite. "I’m… well, uuh, my name’s weird and foreign, so for simplicity purposes, call me Eevee. For… for obvious reasons.  I'm sorry, I will tell you later if you really want to know it." - I added in, bowing my head before glancing at their stream.

An understanding hum left their lips and I suddenly felt like I was in the presence of an anime character. A sunshine one, to be specific.

"I wanted to say it earlier, but your outfit is so freaking cute, like, really cute! Where did ya get it?" - the blondie asked, eyes sparkling and smile widening, so much so that his eyes were slightly arched upwards, turning into little crescent moons.

Taken aback, it took me a few seconds to formulate a normal reaction and reply.

"I-, uh, thank you? Well, I kinda got these clothes at different places and times, they just fit together nicely by coincidence. The scarf and cap was actually a gift from my brother, because he saw this silly lil cap in an Austrian store one day and wanted me to put it on real bad. Long story short, here I am now, fully decked out. A walking, comically tall Eevee on the streets. Just don't throw a pokeball at me. They hurt surprisingly much." "Ooooh, that's so cool. Hyung, we gotta get a cap like this later! Also, wait, did someone actually throw a pokeball at ya?" "... Yeah…"

Their expressions were hilarious even with their masks on, absolutely worth the pain. I couldn't help the little laugh that slipped past my lips.

"Don't worry, it only happened like twice, and one of those times it was a plushie." "Fhew, okay, I was gettin' worried there for a sec." - the blondie sighed out, his hand placed onto his chest out of relief.

With a small laugh they started walking, my anxiety-filled self unsure if I should join them. I really didn't want to be on camera, even though my face was practically completely covered.

But I didn't need to ponder for long, their forms looking back at me and beckoning me to join them.

"Come here, and naur, don't worry, it's fine. You're not disrupting us."

With a small nod and a deep breath, I joined them, slightly waving at the camera.

Christopher introduced me, or I assumed he did, because he was speaking in that foreign language once again.

"Right, Eevee, do you speak korean?" - one of them asked, drawing my attention to him from the flooded chat that was moving way too fast for my tired eyes.

So that was what that foreign language waaas, got it.

"Ah, uh, no, not at all. I couldn't understand a word of any of your guys' conversation, don’t worry."

"What do ya mean don’t worry, that must feel awful to not understand anything! We'll speak more english then, no worries! I couldn't speak it a few years ago either, so I truly do feel ya." - he replied, voice cheery and calming.

Wait.

Now hang on for a fucking second.

This boy to my right was blonde, had freckles, had a deep voice, had a weird english accent and hadn’t been able to speak korean up until a few years ago.

The boy to my left had the same accent, his voice was way too fucking familiar and nice, he had dark curls peeking out from underneath his beanie and could speak korean well.

Stray Kids had their concert half a day ago in the same city, a band that had two members with an eerily similar description.

Haha, naur, no way.

I looked back at them as they were talking to their chat, only coming to that same, insane conclusion. Glancing at the flooded screen on the phone, I mostly saw -probably- korean characters, but there were a few english sentences as well. One of them caught my eye, the word 'Chan' peeking out from it painfully.

My breath got caught in my throat.

Okay, okay, they were just people, act normal. Just, normal, okay? If they won't find out you're a STAY, and neither will the other fans, everything would be fine. I didn't plan on taking photos of them secretly or anything anyway, like a goddamn sasaeng. So just breathe and ignore that they kinda do be idols and people you look up to, okay?

Aaaagh, I was so absolutely fucked.

Next chapter

[my-proof-is-you]

Now That We Don’t Talk - Part 1

Summary: When you started dating Jensen Ackles, things were damn near perfect. You were so compatible, and you fit into his life seamlessly. After Supernatural ended, though, Jensen got a new job. Pretty soon, Jensen also got a new life. And you no longer fit in it.

Jensen x You

Inspired by the song Now That We Don’t Talk by Taylor Swift

Masterlist

You

You sat the last box down in your living room with a grunt. You’d been lugging boxes into your new apartment all day, and you were exhausted. You let your tired body fall back onto the couch, sinking into the soft cushions. 

You looked around the room filled with cardboard and the few pieces of furniture you had. You could feel the tears threatening to fill your eyes, and bit your lip to stop them. You pulled out your phone, tapping the name of the only person you could think to call at that moment. 

“Hi, baby, how are you doing?” your mom answered on the second ring.

You sighed. “I’ve been better,” you replied, rubbing a hand down your face.

“This really is for the best, you know?” she said, and you could almost picture the sympathetic look she’d have on her face. 

“Is it? Cause right now it feels just…horrible.”

“Yes, Y/N, it is. He changed, and you are not the only one who noticed.”

You sighed again. “Thanks, Momma. I better get unpacking. Love you.”

“Love you too, Bug. Pour yourself a glass of wine and just try to relax.”

You smiled as you hung up. Your mom truly was your best friend. You’d called her right after you broke up with Jensen and she’d talked you through it the best she could from nearly a thousand miles away. 

After you’d moved to Austin to be with Jensen, you saw your mom a lot less than you’d liked. It was tempting to move back home after the breakup, but you had a job that you really loved, and you just couldn’t bring yourself to leave it. 

You had friends nearby, too. The only problem was that Jensen was the one who introduced you to them, which made you feel a little uncomfortable. Gen had already reached out to you. She’d left a message wanting to get together to hang out. You hadn’t responded yet. You just weren’t sure if you could handle the inevitable conversation she’d want to have about the breakup.

You pulled out your corkscrew and a wine glass from your box labeled “kitchen” and opened the bottle of white wine you’d gotten on your quick grocery trip earlier in the day. As you took your first sip, you sat down again and let your mind wander to the beginnings of your relationship with Jensen. 

Two Years Earlier - You

It had been by chance that you’d met the green-eyed actor at a coffee shop in your small town of Salida, Colorado. He’d been on his way home from a fan convention in Denver and had taken a wrong turn. He’d wanted to make the long drive alone to clear his head, and you’d learn later how stubborn he was about using the GPS on his phone. 

He’d come into the coffee shop you frequented to get some caffeine and directions. You’d recognized him, of course, since you were a fan of Supernatural. You’d always kept up with the show, but you weren’t a big enough fan to have gone to the convention. 

“Excuse me, miss,” you heard, looking up from your laptop in surprise. Though you’d noticed him enter the shop immediately, you’d never expected him to talk to you. 

“I’m on my way back to Texas, and I think I’m a little lost. I don’t have any service on my phone, but I’m using the Wi-Fi here to look at Google Maps.”

You nodded, listening to his explanation while still wondering why he was talking to you of all people. 

“Can you take a look and tell me if this is a good route back to I-25?” he asked, giving you a dazzling smile. You returned it, and took his phone. 

“Sure,” you said, looking at the route his phone was going to take him. It looked fine, which only added to your confusion at the question he was asking you. Surely the app could tell Jensen what the fastest or easiest route was.

“That is a good option,” you said, handing him his phone back. “And when you go through Trinidad, there’s a great little barbecue place off Main Street you should check out. Awesome pulled pork and even better cheese fries.”

He nodded, his eyes surprised. “Thanks—“ he paused, stretching out his hand in an invitation to shake yours.

“Y/N,” you responded, placing your hand in his calloused one.

“Y/N,” he repeated. “I’m Jensen.” 

“I know,” you said with a smirk. He let out a chuckle and stood there for another moment, as if deciding something. 

“Would it be weird if I asked to buy you a cup of coffee?” he asked finally.

“Hmm, I have coffee,” you replied, glancing at the paper cup in front of you. He seemed to deflate a little, and you quickly continued. “But I would love a scone.”

He smiled again, giving you a wink as he headed to the counter. After he bought your scone and his own coffee, he returned to your table where he asked if he could join you.

You made small talk for a little bit. You told him you liked his show; he asked you about your life in Salida; you joked easily with each other. Before you knew it, a couple of hours had gone by. 

“Well, I really should get going. I have a long drive ahead of me,” Jensen said, leaning back in his chair. 

“Yeah, good idea,” you responded. You had really enjoyed your talk with him, even if it was just a random moment in your life and you never saw him again.

“Do you think I could see you again?” he asked, looking a little nervous. It was very cute, especially since he was a famous actor. 

“Might be a little tough, what with living a thousand miles apart,” you said with a smirk. You saw his shoulders sink a little. “How about I give you my number. If you ever want to talk, I’ll answer.”

“Hmm,” he said, nodding. “It’s not ideal, but I’ll take what I can get, sweetheart.” 

You smiled coyly and put your number in his phone. “It was great to meet you, Jensen. I hope we meet again.”

“Oh, I think we will, Y/N,” he said confidently. You shook your head with a smile as he backed away from the table and out the door.  I will never hear from him again, you thought as you watched him get into his car that was parked on the street. Little did you know, one day later he would prove you wrong.

Forevers:

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[90s-2000s-barbie]

I wanted to post my more in-depth thrift tips.

I had an ask a while ago asking for my advice on tips. And I’ve had this in my drafts for a while just to make sure I really added everything I wanted to. So I’ve been going to thrift stores and garage sales my whole life but really picked it and collecting up as a hobby in 2009. Starting with basics. When I personally thrift, I go to local flea markets, thrift stores, garage sales, church sales, goodwills, any place near by that re sells used items. It’s cheaper in person than looking online. 100%.

My Main Rules:

Never pay full price. This stuff is USED and older for that matter. I don’t care if people think it’s rare, it’s used. Some things are on their last legs of life. I can’t tell you how many times I bought a vintage item or even clothes and they break, tear ex as soon as u get home, test it out, wear it then it breaks! It happens!) always keep that in mind. I also like to keep E6000 clear glue around just in case it’s something I can fix. (If u also try E6000, make sure to follow instructions on bottle exact and it will hold up forever. I glued heavy glass and it’s still together years later)

Only possibly think of spending a little more if the item is in a box and old stock or if it’s super meaningful to you. BUT if u use my tips, u can find old stock in boxes cheap even or decent priced when thrifting. I only pay little more or seek something out if it’s meaningful to me or extremely sentimental. (Old favorite toy or I got rid of and want back, something I always wanted and can now cause I’m 30! Ex….) 😂 otherwise, I don’t buy if the price isn’t right.

If you aren’t sure if it’s actually vintage, look for the year on the item, tag ex, or if u have a phone, look it up, look up the brand! Some super old stuff don’t have years on them too so keep that in mind, helps to use google.

I feel like if u go thrifting enough, u will find whatever you are looking for eventually so if the price isn’t right, don’t buy! You will probably see it again eventually and if you also do this as a hobby, u have a lifetime to come upon it again. lol

Go when u can afford it or really want to. I use to go WEEKLY, I would find things every week cause they constantly have different stuff. lol but now I have bills now and things are expensive, so it’s just not realistic for me anymore. I go once or maybe twice a month if I’m lucky. BUT I will admit, u will find a lot of items if u go weekly and can get first dibs but it can get pricey as it all adds up of course.

Leave no stones unturned. So when I go to the thrifting, I look EVERYWHERE. I spend HOURS. lol Sometimes u find the best stuff in the weirdest spots! I found a ADULT Powerpuff girls sweater from 2000 in the kids xl section! I’ve found vintage bedding on random clothing wracks. Sometimes things get moved, you will be surprised on what u will find.

So this use to be one of my rules when I had a better phone plan lol but if I feel like I’m questioning a price on an item, I use to look it up on eBay or google. (If you use eBay, their is settings they show what items actually sell for and not just what they r listed as. THIS HELPS. Sometimes people put insane prices but they definitely aren’t selling for that much! Helps to see the actual value if u need to.)

If u go to garage sales or flea markets, don’t be scared to ask for prices or make offers. If u like it, ask! If the price isn’t right, just say thanks and go on ur merry way. Key is always be nice and respectful if they don’t budge on price. You’ll probably see it again. lol. Least u asked! I use to be too shy to ask and I’d regret it! Also I’d go home empty sometimes cause of it. But now, I seem to really connect with people and try to be nice, talk to them like a potential friend! Sometimes the interaction makes my day and I can get a laugh out of some people. Even sometimes being nice and funny person can go a long way with others. One time I went to a small town and it was the last day of garage sale weekend and people just seemed so nice and liked me, they gave me stuff for free it kept happening throughout the day! lol Sometimes people won’t budge on prices though and that’s fine. And other times, people just want stock or items gone! lol They want money, they don’t wanna take the junk back inside their home and I get it! lol for example, one place gave me stuff for free cause she was trying to get rid of kids toys, her kids had so much she gave me stuff for free, some powerpuff girl plushies for 25 cents! One time, I had a guy tell me a doll I was looking at was worth $200. (Which He was right they sold for that much in box, I looked it up when I got home) he said was worth $200 but he was asking $20 cause he wanted it sold. He had no attachment and needed extra cash as he kept buying to resell but hasn’t sold much. I told him she’s cute but idk. I kept looking at his other items. Finally when I walked away, he shouted $10! I bought her up! lol One day, I bought a giant box of McDonald’s toys, (second photo from top right above the TMNT bag) for $2 for the entire Box!! Completely full! Was a family at the flea market that was just having a garage sale so to speak, they were moving so they didn’t want anything! lol Also an example too of the opposite scenario, an older lady was selling all spice girls dolls in box for $80 dollars all together (at the time the whole lot was cheaper on eBay, they were $45 for the lot and this stuff wasn’t popular so it just wasn’t selling at the time.) I asked price of baby spice alone and she wouldn’t split the band. I said ok thanks and went on my merry way! I later in life got 3 of the girls for $10 to $6 a piece in box. lol

HAVE FUN. This is my hobby. I’ve been doing this as a hobby since 2009! Of course it takes a while to get as much as I have. But I really only recommend thrifting if u REALLY enjoy it and collecting. You really have to enjoy it and to keep going! It’s like a treasure hunt to me! I do it as a collector cause it’s a blast. I‘ve met such interesting people, I’ve seen such cool things even if I didn’t bring it home and couldn’t afford the item. It’s fun! It’s so exciting to find something on a shelf u haven’t seen in years. Also fun to find things u forgot existed or just speak to u personally! I literally buy anything that just feels like it belongs with me anymore. I fall in love with the moment I look at it. I use to think, oh people will think I’m weird? and I still remember those items I passed up YEARS later and say why did I leave that behind? lol 😂 It’s such a cool hobby. I can tell u what I paid for just about everything! 😂 I remember it all cause I really do love it and I LOVE deals.

Also, all the pictures above are mine and things I thrifted, do not steal! If u have any questions about how much I paid for some of these items, or have any questions in general, don’t be afraid to ask. If u wanna know tips about thrifting on toys, clothes, ex, please ask! I will try to help to the best of my knowledge. The 2nd photo, 6th, 7th, 9th and 10th photo are perfect examples cause it’s everything I got at ONE flea market or thrift store, just one stop. Sometimes I find full collections! Each photo are from different days but are definitely good examples. Also if I forget anything I feel is super important to add, I’ll probably post another part 2 or something. ❤️ hope this helps someone.

I think it it would be cool, if any followers decided to thrift or if you use any of my tips and find some cool stuff, to make a post and tag me! Show me ur cool finds, what tips helped the you the best if u feel like adding that.

[digitalcomputer123]

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[trulygnomed]

Office Date

Nanami x gn Reader Drabble :))

Summary: Your three step plan to get with your older office crush had to work, right?

★

You had a plan.

It was supposed to be a quiet day at the office. Fresh out of college, you found an opportunity to work at Jujutsu High as a part time secretary. The first week was a little rough, a cursed spirit had managed to infiltrate the halls on your third day and essentially destroyed your work space. Thus, causing you to move to the empty desk across from Nanami Kento, the hottest man you've ever seen. A Jujutsu Sorcerer, the man had been working at the school, exorcizing curses while mentoring future sorcerers on how to control their techniques. While you admired the man for his bravery and professionalism, you couldn't deny his attractiveness.

Even after your office was repaired, your desk remained near Nanami's, being drawn to his quiet demeanor and large stature. Step One: Invite Nanami Kento to a meal (lunch, most likely, as you only saw him during working hours). Usually, he did not like to complete more work than what was necessary. However, with the amount of forms to fill out and missions to sort through, it seemed as if the pile would never end. This added stress emanated off of him, causing tensions to increase in the already tense office. It saddened you to see him in a state of stress like this. While you two weren't the closest, you had a mutually friendly relationship. I mean, you are office-mates, after all. Besides, you had your plan.

You had just come from the teacher’s lounge after making several copies of whatever to find Nanami sorting through paperwork.

"Need some help?" You inquired

"Please," he responded, his mood softening once he sees you. Step Two was now in motion: get closer. Rather than bring a stack of papers to your desk in the opposite corner of the room, you pull up a chair to sit next to him, your thigh being near his, brushing together when you reach over for the stapler or to hand him a form.

"So, how have you been? I feel like it's been forever since we've talked." You frowned, He was taken aback by this.

"What? Of course we talk." He tried to justify his reasoning to you.

"Well not like we used to.." you trailed off, embarrassed that feelings like these were beginning to take over. It was like you two talking about work related stuff or about your favorite students at Jujutsu High, discussing feelings was a rare occurrence.

Okay, you did not have a step three. You had realized this after you found yourself leaning towards him, the desire for your lips to collide being all too strong. Kento couldn’t help but kiss you back. He broke the kiss to look at you with half-lidded eyes.

"Whatever this is, it is inappropriate and unprofessional." He tried to reason with you, yet it ended up sounding like he was trying to reason with himself.

"Then stop me" You responded. You looked into his eyes as he looked into yours. After a moment, he leaned in closer to you as you brought him back into the kiss, causing you to straddle him.

He slowly takes your hand in his. His touch was soft yet firm, showing you his gentle side while letting you know that he knows what he wants. He leads you to his desk, and slowly pushes you over its edge while planting kisses into the crook of your neck

all the while a pair of blue eyes watched from the office door's window.

★

The end yayyyy. Bye you guys don’t even know how long this took me to write. I don’t know how offices work don’t test me rn. Also this is a drabble bc I thought it’d be longer since I wrote this in google docs oopsies. Ignore the plotholes pls

[bobfloydsbabe]

checkmate | jake seresin x oc

a turning tables fic

SUMMARY: Jake comes to the infirmary needing stitches after an encounter with Jas' ex-boyfriend.

WARNINGS: incorrect medical stuff (not explicit), blood mention, talk of slut-shaming.

WORD COUNT: 1.1k

TURNING TABLES MASTERLIST

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A/N: I haven't written for Jake and Jas for a while and I missed them, so I dug this out of my drafts and finally finished it. I forgot how much I love writing their dynamic, so I hope you like this little drabble.

There was a knock on the door and Jas looked up from the computer screen to find Martha in the doorway. She held a chart in her hands and had an annoyed look on her face.

“There’s a lieutenant here who needs stitches,” she said.

Jas furrowed her brows, glancing at the clock on her computer. “Stitches?” she questioned. “Usually you take care of stitches.”

Martha sighed, offering the clipboard with the intake form to Jas, who stood to accept it. Flipping the page, her breath hitched at the name. “He’s asking for you.”

Jas held back a groan. “Of course he is,” she muttered and followed Martha out to the reception area.

“Watch out for him,” she said as she situated herself behind the desk. “I remember him from when he was at TOPGUN.”

“Let me guess,” Jas said, heading for the exam room. “He was as much a pain in the ass then as he is now.”

She didn’t wait to hear Martha’s response, but opened the door to the stark white exam room. Jake Seresin sat on the exam bed, holding gauze to his left eyebrow.

“Who punched you this time?” she asked, closing the door behind her. He was in civilian clothes. Dark jeans, black boots, and a white t-shirt sprinkled with blood from his split eyebrow.

She expected him to grin, to make a quip, but nothing came. He looked defeated and a little angry.

“Met an ex-boyfriend of yours,” he said nonchalantly. Jas frowned at that, not remembering that any of her exes lived or worked in the area. She supposed a trip wouldn’t be out of the question, but it seemed unlikely.

She put the clipboard down on the bed next to him. “Yeah?” She asked and reached for a pair of gloves from the dispenser on the wall. “Which one?”

“Connor, I think his name was,” he said and removed the gauze at her indication. 

Jas chuckled. “Please tell me you threw the first punch,” she said, but caught herself. “Was it a punch that did this?”

“Yeah,” he confirmed with a shrug as Jas inspected the cut running through his brow. “Didn’t know you were into bodybuilders.”

Jas frowned at that. “He was scrawny when we were in med school.”

“Not anymore,” Hangman stated. “What’s the verdict?”

“You need stitches, so I’m going to numb you up and get started, okay?”

He nodded with another shrug. Silence fell over the room as Jas worked, finding a thread and needle, scissors, and tongs to hold the needle with.

“Tell me to stop if you feel any pain, okay?”

Jake hummed his acknowledgement, and Jas got to work putting him back together. He flinched a couple of times, but took it mostly in a stride.

“He wasn’t my boyfriend, you know.”

“What?”

“Connor,” Jas clarified as she tied up the last knot. “We went on two dates and had very boring, unsatisfying sex once.”

Jake frowned. His green eyes darkened, confusion overtaking his stupidly handsome face. “He wasn’t your boyfriend?”

Jas snorted so hard her nose hurt. “No,” she answered, discarding the gloves in a nearby trashcan. “He’s lying if he said that.”

“He did,” Jake said, as his feet hit the floor with a soft thud.

“So,” Jas began, looking over his intake form. “Why’d you punch him?”

Jake hovered near her shoulder, watching as she added her own notes, and she felt the intensity of his gaze. He was all body heat and tension and his cologne invaded her senses, making her head feel heavy.

“He’s an idiot.”

She looked up from the clipboard. She watched him put his balled up fists in his pockets and the way his jaw clenched. “I can’t put that in your chart,” she replied, straightening her back.

“It’s the truth.”

Jas nodded. “I’m sure it is, but I still can’t put that in your chart. So, what’d he say, Seresin?”

He looked around the room, avoiding her eyes. He clearly didn’t want to tell her, but she would pry it from him if she had to. She had her ways, especially with him.

“It doesn’t matter,” he finally replied.

Stepping forward, she came into his space, ignoring the electricity that burst to life between them as they breathed the same air. She could smell beer on his breath, and found that she didn’t hate it. “Come on, Seresin,” she coaxed, running a fingertip along his left bicep. “It can’t be that bad.”

Jake clenched his jaw again, turning his gaze to the ceiling as he let out a long breath. When his eyes returned to hers, he looked like he wanted to punch the man all over again. “He said you were an easy lay.”

Jas snorted again. “Did he now?”

“Yes.” Jake’s tone was harsh. Voice deep and hoarse.

“So you defended my honor?”

His eyes narrowed. “I–”

“I don’t need you to defend me, lieutenant,” Jas interrupted, squeezing his arm before taking a step back. “Certainly not to a guy who couldn’t even get me off.”

“He called you a slut,” he protested, clearly taken aback by her response.

She chuckled. “He’s not the first one to say that, and he won’t be the last. It says more about him than it does about me.”

Picking up a pen, she noted the reason for his trip to the infirmary, but left out some key details. No one needed to know that he’d started a bar fight.

“You’re not upset?”

She turned back to Jake, who looked as confused as ever. It was cute. “That he called me a slut, or that you punched him?”

“The name.”

“I don’t like it,” Jas relented. “But he’s just some guy I went to med school with. He’s an idiot.”

At that, Jake smiled for the first time. A small smile, but it the made the skin around his eyes crinkle in that way she loved so much.

“You’re not mad,” he said, sounding relieved, making Jas smile.

“No,” she said and stepped into his space again. “But if you still wanna make it up to me, come to my place after my shift.”

Jake’s eyes widened. When he opened his mouth to reply, Jas cut him off with a searing kiss to his lips that he returned with fervor, hands on her waist immediately.

They broke apart, and Jas leaned in, brushing her lips against his earlobe to whisper only a few short words.

“Get me off like the idiot never could.”

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[sunenjoyswriting]

Hello! How are you? I hope well<3

I thought of something like the boys seeing the MC being VIL's personal maid, you can choose the characters! The ones that are most comfortable for you, ok?

I'm sorry for any mistakes, English is not my native language, I hope you are well and you can count on me for anything

Kisses Kisses…⁠ᘛ⁠⁐̤⁠ᕐ⁠ᐷ

Epel, Neige, and Rook reacting to MC/Reader being Vil’s personal maid

Writers note: I hope you don’t mind that I added in a few things… you didn’t give me the most to work with, so I ended up having to add some stuff to make it work nicely. But this was very fun to write!! And there wasn’t any spelling mistakes in your ask, so don’t worry :)

Possible warnings: I think Rook himself classifies as a warning… but other then that, no warnings! (Reader is Yuu in this by the way)

Epel:

- He is... not amused, or happy, that Vil has another dedicated follower... Wasn't Rook enough?

- You followed Vil around whenever possible, and cleaned up everything for him... Really, you're just Rook 2.0 at this point.

- And you still had time to make sure you looked perfect as well... Probably because Vil had told you to look better when you're near him (all the time). What? Is your last name Hunt?

- He probably has suggested multiple times for you two to switch places. You get to be in the same dorm as Vil, and he gets to be in a dorm without Vil (even if he has to stay in a safety hazard of a dorm)! It's a win-win situation, isn't it? But you just berate him for his lack of appreciation for Vil whenever he tries to suggest it...

- You'll be the end of Epel at this point...

(I couldn’t find a better image for him, sorry…)

Neige:

- He tries to befriend you. You do not like it because he is the enemy, and making friends with the enemy would take your time away from Vil.

- But no matter how direct you are, he continues to attempt to befriend you... Just like with Vil...

- He admires your dedication to Vil! 

- Wouldve added more for him but idk anymore stuff to add for him. I just wanted to add Neige in this.

Rook:

- “Dont you not write for him?” Notice how I didnt ask for your input? I can do whatever I want!! I still don’t accept requests for him though.

- He tries to help you. You decline (unless Vil instructs you to let him help) as to make sure everything is done to exact way wanted by Vil.

- You two are practically one in the same (excluding the stalking thing. Probably.)… I think multiple students are convinced you two are related in some way. Perhaps siblings. (“But dont they know Yuu/reader is from another world?” No I have a theory that most the school is unaware of the Isekai thing, in which I am adding here.)

- While Vil is out modeling or something you just. start helping him instead of Vil (after making sure everything is perfect for when Vil is back of course), because you have no idea what else to do. And he’s friends (or perhaps something more homosexual- why am I adding this I don’t even like the ship) with Vil! That means he’s important to Vil, and that means that Vil would be fine (or maybe even happy) if you helped him!

- Teaches you French if you don't already know it. I will not elaborate on this, as I have no idea why. I just know he would.

- His nickname for you is probably Roi du soubrette/Roi du maid (I forgot if his nicknames are fully in french so two versions… I used google translate for the fully french one) or something like that.

[jakeyt]

Covet: Chapter 8 (Sneak Peek)

Warnings: smut (minors dni !!!); allusions to pregnancy; consensual sex while high on marijuana

a/n: so, this is an excerpt (1,000+ words lol) from a part near the end of chapter 8... i'm sharing it now because this is a part i've been dying to write for a hot second, so i'm excited to share it w you all. (also, angst and smut won the poll... and this is just that lol) this is an extremely important part to the next chapter, but not the most important part... so take w that what you will. ;)

plz enjoy <3

-🌼🌼🌼-

It took you longer than you had planned trying to find a box of damn tampons.

Walmart was sold out of your go-to’s, and searching Google to figure out a good environmentally-friendly dupe was harder than you’d anticipated.

But, it must have been your lucky day. Because, as you stood there, a graying woman in the tell-tale blue vest came up with totes to stock the shelves. And, as she started unloading, you saw a box of your normal brand of products in a tote. 

Walking over, you kindly asked if you could have one of the boxes of tampons in her tote, and she smiled.

“Which kind, sweetheart?” Her voice wobbled with her age, the hump in her back much more prominent when she went to bend down to grab it for you.

You placed a delicate hand on her frail arm, stopping her. “Oh, ma’am,” you said, causing her to look up at you. “You don’t have to get them out. I can do it.” She raised a brow, so you hastily added, “If you don’t mind, of course.”

It took everything in you to not help her up from her slightly bent position, as you didn’t want to break any boundaries. But, when she stood back up, as straight as she could, her smile was bright behind her magenta lipstick. 

“Oh, sweetie,” she winked a glassy eye, placing her hand on your arm this time. You smiled as she continued, “You are one of the rare ones, aren’t you?” 

“What do you mean?” You giggled. 

“Willing to help your elders?” She questioned. 

You blinked, not expecting that. “Oh, of course. I wouldn’t ever think of doing anything different,” you shook your head, your grin sticking to your lips. “I don’t want you having to do that for me.”

“Well, you are just too sweet, honey. If you’re sure, I’m going to continue stocking. You go ahead and get it out, honey.”

With that, she walked back to her prior job. 

And when you bent to get your tampons, your stomach lurched.

Again.

Just like it’d been doing for the past week or so. But this time, you felt like you might actually vomit again, so you put a hand to your mouth when you stood back up. 

The woman—Wanda, her name tag said— looked over at you. Her brow wrinkled when she asked, “You alright, honey?”

Swallowing, you nodded, knitting a brow. “Oh, yeah. Don’t you worry about me.”

She nodded back, almost turning back to her job when she stopped. “You know, it’s so funny. I remember once back in my day, when I was around your age, I was in an aisle just like this one. . . Getting my own napkins, searching high and low for them. Just like you are today, dear," she chuckled.

You smiled kindly, unsure of why she was telling you this. You were about to turn on your heel with a quick goodbye when her voice stopped you. “But, what’s funny. . .I searched so hard that day, and later that week. . . I found out I was pregnant!” She got a kick out of that one, slapping her tiny thigh. “I’d been late for weeks. . .I just hadn't put two and two together.”

In contrast to her humorous state, your stomach sank. . . Plummeting to your knees. 

No.

But before you could say anything back, she was being called by another employee to help locate an item. She waved a goodbye, and you barely registered it. Your thoughts were going insane.

No. There was no way. 

You knew you were late. . . But you weren’t that late. 

School had just been stressful. Your anxiety building up to you being sick and everyth—.

Fuck. Your nausea. 

No. No no no no.

It wasn’t possible.

Standing stock still in that aisle, you measured your thoughts the best you could. Tried to make them all slow the fuck down.

Flashbacks of Jake infiltrated your mind, him being the only one to have aided in that possibility.

The only guy you’d slept with in months. And he always, always pulled out. Without fail.

Fuck. Absolutely not. Why were you even thinking of him? Of that? Entertaining that thought? 

It wouldn’t have even been a blip of an idea had that lady not mentioned anything. 

Hurriedly, you scampered down the aisle, wanting to get out of dodge of the ladies’ aisle. But just as you’d passed the pregnancy tests, you stopped in your tracks, walking back to them. 

There is no fucking way this is possible, you thought. You shook your head, almost continuing out of the aisle again. 

But. That dreadful voice nagged at you, causing you to stay in your place, eyeing the tests suspiciously. 

Better safe than sorry, y/n, it seemed to remark smartly to you. What’s the harm in checking?

And without really thinking, you were getting out your phone to search for the most accurate test brands. You were not about to get a false positive that might freak you out for no reason. 

As you navigated the best brands on a blog, bile rose in your throat, your tummy continuing its somersaults. 

You didn’t want to think about it as you eyed the Clear Blue tests. 

This was stupid anyway. 

But you went to grab one, in spite of you knowing you literally weren’t pregnant. 

You didn’t know why you were fucking embarrassed as you reached for the box of tests. It wasn’t like you weren’t a grown ass fucking woman. 

And it wasn’t like you were actually pregnant. There was no way in hell. This was just a precaution to prove to yourself that you were overthinking things. There was no way.

Every single time you’d been with Jake, he’d pulled out. Every. Single. Ti–.

Then, it came back.

The night you’d gotten high on Josh’s fucking green. 

Fuck. 

It had been one of the most euphoric times you’d had sex with Jake. That much you could remember–and you hadn’t forgotten how good it had felt for a damn second. 

And, the more you thought about it. . . It dawned on you as your stomach rolled. 

Knowing how into it you’d been. . . How good it had been. The weed hindering your decision— you probably hadn’t used fucking protection then. 

Dammit.

Most likely, you knew he hadn’t pulled out. The more you thought of it, you became convinced. You’d both been so out of it. . . too lost in the moment. (A moment that you had, admittedly, been waiting for: feeling his naked cock inside of you, throbbing as he released his hot seed inside of you. . .)

And, as you stood under the judging, bright fluorescent lights of fucking Wally World, the words were coming back to you. . . the entire moment was flooding back to you. Whether you wanted it to or not.

You felt your legs quiver, your heat clenched around him as your clit twitched with need. His eyes rolled, his lids shutting with the feeling. He bit his pink lip. The butterflies in your stomach started fluttering ferociously, the familiar feeling overtaking you. It was time. You were about to finish. And you had to do it with him. 

Completely. 

“Y/n,” he gasped, warning you. “I’m going to fucking cum.”

You felt his cock pulsate inside of you, confirming his words. 

“I know,” you said, for the third time. “I need to feel you. I want you to finish inside of me.”

His eyes bugged. “Y/n– fuck. No. No. You are under the influe–.”

You felt your chest flare with irritation at his words. “Jake, I swear to– fuck,” you whined, your eyes shutting as one particular nudge of his cock against your g-spot pushed you nearly over the edge. “Please, Jake. Please, baby. I promise you won’t be taking advantage or some shit. I need it. Please. Let me have it. Just this one time.”

Let our last time be special, you thought.

You tried to let your eyes echo your thoughts, willing him to understand. 

He seemed to, because his next words were less apprehensive– an air of eagerness painting his tone with his next words. He was about to let go. “Are you sure?”

“More than sure,” you reassured, smoothing your thumb across his sharp cheekbone. 

And with one last buck from his hips, your clit trembled and your legs turned to Jell-o. All composure was lost, your heart chanted his name. 

Then, with a final groaned grunt, his lids drooped, and his eyes hazily watched you. His mouth in a relaxed ‘o’ shape, just the same as it did when he played his beloved instrument. You felt the glorious feeling of his release, warm and plentiful inside of you. 

Fuck.

In your hazy state, you’d banked on everything being okay. Because you'd convinced yourself as you fell asleep that you were going to get a Plan B the next morning. . .

But, there’d never been a fucking Plan B. 

Dread filled you as the fucking terrible, generic pop music seemed to be growing louder and louder in the aisle. The aisle that was suddenly cramped and caving in on you. 

You felt a cold sweat develop on your forehead as your hands became clammy with fear.

Your hand trembled as you held the box of Clear Blue tests tightly to your chest. 

You didn’t need this. Fuck. He didn’t need this.

It was just a fluke. There was no way. It was one time.

So, that’s why, when you reached out to get a box of First Response tests, you knew it was just to back up what you knew.

Confirm the truth. 

It was not possible at all that you were pregnant. 

How fucking often does it happen after just one time?

-🌼🌼🌼-

But, an hour later, when you got home, you'd decided to push the tests all the way to the back of your underwear drawer. 

You decided to hide them because you knew it was stupid to even begin to think of the impossible. 

And you were not about to entertain such an asinine idea. 

-🌼🌼🌼-

a/n: please send in your thoughts! i love hearing from you <3