#I LITERALLY HAD THEM IN MY BASKET ABOUT TO PAY

[iridescentis]

im actually going to fucking cry

i spent so long and i had 5 minutes left on the timer and just as i made an account the website crashed and timed me out ARE YOU FUCKING KIDDING ME

[heavyhitterheaux]

Wife and Mother To Be

Synopsis: While you and Joe are shopping for a friend's baby shower, he has a realization about his future with you.

Pairing: Joe Burrow x Girlfriend!Reader

Requested by @hoodharlow 😘💕

Please Do Not Repost My Content Anywhere

Standing in the baby section of Target and holding up two different onesies to compare them, your phone started to vibrate in the back pocket of your jeans. Placing one of them across your arm, you pulled your phone out to answer it and was greeted by a frantic boyfriend.

“Baby! Where did you run off to this time? You said we were coming in here for toothpaste and face masks. Next thing I know, I turn around and my girlfriend is missing! Are you at Starbucks again?! You ALWAYS do this when we come in here.” You heard your boyfriend say as you picked up and didn't wait for a proper greeting.

“You were literally standing there for fifteen minutes comparing different ones so I walked away. I'm in the baby section looking at clothes. And no, I already went to Starbucks and my drink is gone so I'll need to make another stop before we leave.”

“No, no, and no. I am literally taking you to lunch so no more stops and wait a minute, why are you in the baby section? Is there something you need to tell me?” Joe asked and you immediately rolled your eyes.

“For Gabby! Her baby shower is tomorrow, remember? Just come over here and help me pick things out for her.”

“Oh, right. Be right there, I'm walking over now.”

It was another two minutes when you saw Joe coming towards you and he greeted you by placing a soft kiss on your lips.

“Wait a minute, why do you have a cart? We got a basket when we came in here. What did you plan on buying her? The entire section? Am I paying for this?”

“Joseph, will you relax!? I'm just getting her a few things and then we can go eat. Now what do you think about these?” You asked as you held up the same two onesies to show him.

“Hmm, what is she having again?” Joe asked as he was looking at both of them.

“A girl, Joe. Both of these are pink.”

“So? What's your point? I wear pink too.”

“But not something that says princess on it!” You responded to him as you laughed.

“At least not yet anyway and I like both of them.”

“Okay good. Both it is and I’m ignoring you.”

“I should ignore you for leaving me by myself.”

“Oh, that's right. I forgot that you need supervision all the time.”

“No, that's you. I'm a responsible adult. You're the one who comes in here for one thing when you tell me you'll be back in twenty minutes but an hour goes by and you're nowhere to be found.”

“And you use whatever I bring back home so you benefit from it so I don’t want to hear it.” You told him with a smirk and now it was Joe’s turn to roll his eyes.

“Come on and help me. Sooner we finish, the sooner we get food and go home.” You told him and he quickly agreed as he started browsing the baby toys.

Before you knew it, another thirty minutes had passed by and the two of you had a cart full of different things for Gabby. You were satisfied with how much you had gotten, but Joe was still browsing.

“Babe, come on. This should be enough.” You told him as you came up behind and wrapped your arms around him as he was now comparing two different diaper brands and you suddenly got a flashback to the toothpaste situation.

“You can never have enough diapers though, right?”

“Sweetheart, we got her four packs already.”

“Yeah, but are those really the best ones? I think that these might be better in case she has a blow out. My nephew did that to me and I still have PTSD. Therapy was needed after that.” Joe told you as he put the other diapers back and you couldn't help but to laugh.

“Not funny, babe. I didn't realize how much shit could come out of someone so little.”

“It is funny, Joseph and I wish I was there to be able to see your face when it happened.”

“Keep going and I'm not feeding you.” Joe told you as he put the diapers you had gotten in the cart back and replaced them with the brand that he wanted.

“But, I need energy in order to ride you later.” You replied and Joe immediately turned a bright shade of red as you began to laugh.

“BABE!”

“What? What'd I say?”

“You know what you said. Come on so we can go.”

Later on that night you were sitting on the middle of the floor in your shared bedroom with Joe when he walked in to see what you were doing.

“You run away from me in Target and at home. Did I do something?” Joe playfully asked as he sat across from you and began to help you wrap the gifts for Gabby.

“Nothing at all, Joey. Doing this so I can spend the rest of the night cuddling my amazing boyfriend whom I love to the moon and back.”

“Just the moon, not further?”

“Well we aren't going to the sun unless we want to burn to a crisp so yeah the moon.”

“I'll take it.”

You were folding the onesies when Joe was simply admiring you. Before he could stop himself, he blurted it out.

“When are we going to have one?” He asked and your mouth instantly hit the floor, but you tried to compose yourself.

“Um, have a what?” You asked clearly flustered and Joe simply laughed.

“You know what I mean.” Joe responded as he pulled you to sit in his lap as he kissed the top of your head while his arms wrapped around you.

“You want a baby? With me?” You asked with your voice dripping with uncertainty.

“I want everything with you. I thought that much was obvious. And not just one baby, multiple.” He answered and you turned around to look at him.

“You're serious?”

“I love you and I'm as serious as a heart attack.”

“Well you low key just gave me one.” You muttered against his chest and he laughed.

“Don't you want that with me?”

“Of course I do. I want nothing more than to make it a reality. I just didn't really know how to tell you or if you were ready. I mean you are literally at the peak of your career.”

“Baby, you can tell me anything and everything. You know that. And so what? If this is something that we both want, we're going to make it work.”

“You're not messing with me?”

“Now, why would I do that? I want to make you my wife too whenever that time comes. Mrs. Sheisty has a nice ring to it, don't you think?”

Now it was your turn to shy away and hide in his chest and all he did was laugh.

“In that case, I can't wait for you and our daughter to have matching pink outfits.”

“Oh, so you want a girl first?”

“Of course, girls run the world and she is going to have you wrapped around her little finger just like I do now.” You told him as you poked his nose.

“If that's the case, you want to get started? I heard that making the baby is the fun part.”

[samandcolbyownme]

fall/halloween season with sam .. you two make each other boo baskets. you put your positive pregnancy test in his. just super fluffy pleaseee. maybe they tell colby and at the end an knstagram announcement? Maybe even at christmas or valentines day? 🤭

PS: I‘m a sucker for your (pregnancy) stories! I love them!

I literally love this idea! I’m trying to get out as many spooky/ fluff Halloween theme one shots that I can!

Warnings: mostly fluff, anxious reader, pregnancy

Word Count: 1.2k | unedited

‿෴Ѽ෴‿

“Hey babe!” You walk upstairs to where Sam is working on editing a video, “I’ll be back, I’m running to target quick.”

He spins around, giving you a smile, “What are you going there for?”

You smile, “Um, stuff.”

“What stuff?” He pulls you into his lap and you sigh, “If I tell you, it won’t be a surprise now would it?”

“Ahh, I see.” He pecks your cheek, “Don’t forget, Colby and Malia are coming over for dinner.”

“Oh right, I forgot about that. Sorry, I’ve had a lot on my mind lately.” You lean in, pressing your lips to his, “I’ll be back in plenty of time, I promise.”

He smiles and kisses you again, “I love you.”

You smile, “I love you.”

You steal one more kiss before you get up and walk downstairs to grab your keys. You head out to your car and make your way to Target.

On the drive there, your nerves were getting the best of you.

Do I want to tell him tonight? I totally forgot they were coming over. Would that be too much? Sam would want to tell Colby right away? Right?

You let out a sigh as you pull into a parking stall. You get out and lock your car as you walk towards the store.

You grab a cart, setting your bag in the seat part and you start your shopping. You were here to make Sam a little Boo Basket for Halloween.

You kept seeing them all over, and Sam definitely deserves one, but only, there would be small twist with this one.

You picked out a cute basket, along with some candy and a cute Halloween themed blanket that was super soft.

You grabbed a small thing of cookies and a mug with an S on it, oh you were so excited.

On your way to check out, you grabbed some more small Halloween theme things and tossed them in and made your way to pay.

Once you got out to the car, you put it all together and dug in your purse for the main surprise - your positive pregnancy test.

You moved the socks and laid it down on the black and orange crinkled confetti. Covering it back up with the socks and pushing everything over so it wouldn’t be noticed right away.

You texted Sam that you were on your way home, and started to drive.

As you grew closer to the house, you kept taking slow breathes to control your anxiety.

You and Sam have spoken about kids before, but not this soon.

You got out and walked around to grab the basket, carrying it up the steps to the house. As you open the door, you called out for him, “Sam! Where are you?”

“Kitchen.” He responds, “Do I need to close my eyes?”

You let out a laugh, as you close the door, “Yes please. That would be great!” You took one last deep breath before pushing the door to the kitchen open and smiling as you seen him standing there with his hands over his eyes.

“Give me one second.” You say as you sit the basket down. You make sure what you want hidden is hidden and you step back, your arms extending out towards the basket, “Okay, you can look.”

He opens his eyes and you smile, “Ta-da!”

He smiles and looks over the basket before looking at you, “I had a feeling this is what you were doing, so..” he bends down and comes back up with a boo basket for you, “I thought a head.”

“Oh Sam.” You lay your hand over your mouth, “You actually got me a boo basket?”

He nods, sliding it across the counter to you, “I sure did.” He wraps his arms around you and kisses your head, “Thank you, baby.”

“Thank you.” You look up at him and he looks down at you, pecking your lips before he steps back and rubs his hands together, “Let’s see what we got here, huh?”

You nervously pick at your basket, trying to act all cool, and nonchalant, but your hands were shaking like there was no tomorrow.

You hid them in the basket, turning stuff towards you as you pretend to look over at it.

You glance over, watching Sam pull out some of the stuff and smell the candle that was tucked in there, “I think I got you the same one, babe.”

You look at the candle in your basket and you laugh, “You did.”

“Do we know each other or what?” He laughs and continues to look through, his whole body freezing when he gets to the stuck in the bottom, ��Y/n?”

“Yeah?” You slowly turn towards him, and you can feel the color draining out of you.

“What- are you..” he lifts the stick and his eyes light up, “We’re having a baby?” He looks over at you and you nod, your voice low, “We’re having a baby.”

He lunges towards you, lifting you up as he buries his face into your neck, “Oh my god.” He holds onto you, and you hear him sniffle, “I love you.”

You wrap your arms tighter around his neck, “I love you. I was so scared to tell you.”

“You don’t..” he sets you down, cupping your cheeks, “You don’t ever have to be scared to tell me anything, especially something like this.”

He kisses you and looks down at the test on the counter, “We have a little boo coming soon.” He looks back at you and you smile, “We do have a little boo coming soon.”

“Can we tell Colby? Is it okay that we do? I know it’s best to wait, but-“

“Yes, baby. We can tell Colby.” You smile, pulling him in for another kiss, “I figured you’d want to, and I have absolutely no problem with it whatsoever.”

“I love you.” He peppers your cheek with kisses, “You have no idea.”

You smile, laughing slightly at the kisses, “I love you, so much.”

‿෴Ѽ෴‿

You knew Sam was trying so hard to refrain from blurting the news he received today to Colby.

He was super excited. It’s all he talked about while the two of you made dinner for tonight.

“Y/n.” Colby tilts his head, “Can I ask you something?”

You nod, leaning forward to rest your arms on the table, “What’s up?”

“Why are we the only ones having wine with our dinner?” He raises a brow and you laugh slightly, “I guess I’m just not in a drinking mood tonight.”

“Mm, why’s that?” Colby smirks and you look at Sam, giving him a nod and not even a second later, Sam has a big smile on his face and the words are rolling off of his lips, “Y/n is pregnant.”

“Oh my god!” Colby stands straight up and immediately goes to Sam, “Congrats, man!” Sam stands up and Colby pulls him in for a hug, “I’m so happy for you guys!”

Malia looks at you with a smile, “Congratulations, y/n. Do you know how far along you are?”

You shrug, “I have an appointment next week, so I’m guessing somewhere in the early to mid first trimester? Something like that?”

“I want ultrasound pictures! I’m so excited. Now I have a reason to shop.” She laughs and Colby nods in agreement, “You’re damn right we do!”

‿෴Ѽ෴‿

Thank you so much for reading! I love you all so much! I’ll catch you in the next one!

Likes and reblogs are majorly appreciated!

[joemama-2]

THE BALLERINA

synopsis: Gojo Satoru is a man of power, status, and strength. nowhere in his life does he have time for relationships, let alone love. but he starts to question his boundaries when a pretty ballerina catches his attention.

tags/warnings: gojo x fem reader, minor fluff, angst, major character death, depression, strong language, sexual content, self-harm

word count: 2972

divider credit @cafekitsune

This story begins with a man and a woman. These two are from completely different worlds. They were brought together by nothing more than a simple bump-in occurrence. At least, that’s what the woman thinks. In reality, the man has been watching her for a while now. A man like him shouldn’t be nervous, but the woman makes him feel just that. She doesn’t even know she does it, it’s natural. And that scares the man.

Anywho, there’s a man and a woman. 

This man is named Gojo Satoru. The woman….is you. 

Now, this is not about how two strangers fell in love. It’s about how time got the best of them. How simple mistakes led to a downfall. Pay close attention because as soon as you think you have him, you don’t. Or maybe…it’s him who doesn’t.

Gojo first sees you while you’re on stage. You look beautiful, stunning, shining (literally). There’s others on stage with you, but his eyes stay on you for some odd reason. The auditorium is large, many of its attendants dressed up for the formal occasion. They watch on in awe, some even recording subtly. There’s others who whisper amongst themselves about the entertainers. 

“Wow, look at that one, her form is excellent.”

“Oh my, I love this part.”

“So beautiful.”  

The last part is muttered by him. He says it to no one, considering he’s alone. But a small part of him hopes you can hear the praise that’s directed at you. Of course you can’t. But he hopes. Hope is something funny to have, isn’t it?

His arms are crossed over his chest, a small smile on his face as he focuses on the way your body twists and twirls, toes pointed high in the air. There’s a smile on your face too, it’s fitting for the setting. The white fabric looks stunning on you, but you know what looks even more stunning?

Your eyes.

Gojo Satoru admitting someone has prettier eyes than him? How comical. But really, he’s right. He almost jumps in his seat as your eyes make the briefest of glances to scan your audience and he swears you saw him. Again, he hope you did. 

Hope will be a recurring theme in this story, you’ll come to find out.

Gojo is the first to stand and clap once the performance finishes, the rest of the attendants following soon after. You and your other girls smile, giving a small bow of appreciation. And just like that, the curtains close and the lights slowly start to turn back on. He wants to rewind time and watch it from the beginning, watch you from the beginning. If only being the holder of the Six Eyes and Limitless allowed him to time travel, that would’ve been very helpful in this story. 

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

“Here you are.” Gojo’s arm reaches up to grab the canned pineapples the employees just had to put on the highest shelf. 

You’re a little shocked by the presence of this strange man, but ultimately smile politely. “Oh, thank you so much.” with a nod, you grab the can from his hand and place it in your basket. “Don’t know why they do that, it’s a bit of an inconvenience.”

He chuckles, head tilting. “I bet. Luckily I was around, huh?”

Your laugh almost puts him in a daze. “Yeah, luckily.”

You thought that would be the last time you would ever see the man, you were wrong, of course. At first, it was creepy. You remember calling him out on it.

“How come you’re everywhere I turn?”

“I’m a magician, that’s why?”

“Or a creepy stalker?”

“More like a curious one.”

After that conversation, it didn’t help your suspicions. But he never went further than talking. Your optimistic, or maybe naive, side took over. So eventually, you let it be. If Gojo was there, that would mean you weren’t too far away. Days turned into weeks, then months, then a year.

A whole year since you met him. It’s almost baffling how time moves so quick. Just like Gojo, you wish you could go back. He never misses a recital, practice, anything. Gojo is always there to support you whether that’s on the sidelines or helping you stretch. 

His hands feel too warm for you, like it’s a familiar sensation that you haven’t yet recgonized where from. That thought throws you off a little bit but you’ve been pushing it away for a while now. Within the year you’ve known each other,you’ve come to learn that not only is he incredibly handsome, but he’s incredibly secretive. You don’t like secrets. You never have and never will. Secrets for what? What is that other person hiding? The uncertainty draws you away and the fact that he’s not even comfortable telling you. When in all honesty, you’ve told him too much.

He’s only told you he’s an only child and that he’s loaded. Well, he didn’t exactly tell you the first part. But the second he pulled out his black card when buying you a new pair of slippers after you others ones have been used for too many years, that was when it clicked. 

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

Gojo and you became close, maybe even too close. Labels and boundaries have been lost anf thrown to the wind. Maybe you’re friends. Maybe you’re more than that? I mean, do friends really touch each other like you guys do? Say the things you guys say? Well scratch that, there’s one boundary Gojo has set in place.

He doesn’t do relationships.

You were okay with that, really. Because at the same time, you weren’t looking for a boyfriend. You were too focused on yourself, learning the new dance for each upcoming recital, making sure you’re form was the best of the best. You were a perfectionist. So essentially, you agreed to his terms.

But can you really blame yourself? Who wouldn’t begin to feel a shift with the way he held you and fucked you like you were his lover, his wife, his soulmate? Never did you voice your opinions because you were conflicted. He was the first man who showed you everything, he was your first. You tell yourself it’s normal and that if you get involved with others, these weird feelings will fade.

However, you should’ve thought twice about saying this to Gojo while he was balls deep in your sweet cunt.

“I…I have a date tomorrow night.”

He freezes mid thrust, muscles automatically tensing. When he pulls his head back from the crook of your neck, the looks in his eyes in different, unrecognizable. Theres a frown on his face, a stark contrast to what it was before and he almost seems angry.

“You what?”

With hazy eyes, it’s hard to focus on him as his face hovers above your own. His hand holds your jaw, titling it up. The silence is tense. You suddenly get the feeling that you made a big mistake because although there’s anger in his eyes, you can see a hint of betrayal hidden underneath. Your lips part but words fail you.

“What did you just say?”

“What’s….what’s wrong?” you ask back, wincing as he pulls out completely. Immediately, you clock in on the fact that he’s turning around, reaching down for his boxers and pants he discarded on the floor. Panic sets in and you sit up hastily, using the duvet to cover your bare form. “Satoru, why–what are you doing?”

“Getting dressed.”

“But why? I thought we were–”

“Have some things to take care of.”

His response scares you and you almost want to cry with how things have changed so quickly. Your hand reaches out for his arm. “Are you mad at me? Please, tell me what’s wrong.”

Gojo hates how your voice can make his expression falter, but he pushes through, gently removing his arm back as he stands. “It’s not you, I just realized something.”

“Satoru–” you stand with him, tears threatening to fall down. He doesnt turn around to face you, even while buttoning his shirt back up, grabbing the dark glasses he left on the bedside table. You don’t even realize you’re trembling before a broken sniffle leaves your lips.

He hates the sound, hates when you’re like this. He hates that he caused this. For a moment, he closes his eyes and he turns around, forcing his casual smile back on his face. You see right through it, he knows you do. So why is he still faking? “Don’t worry, okay? I’ll see you around.”

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

It was weeks until you saw him again. And when you did, you knew things weren’t the same. His touch never lingered longer than it should, no more stupid flirty remarks, no more winks, no more sex. It was strictly…..friendly. 

You didn’t know if you hated it.

You fall to the ground with a frustrated huff, shaky hands clenching into fists at yet another failed attempt of a cabriole. The recital is in five days and you can’t get this part right. It doesn’t help when the others have moved way past this point, sometimes regarding you with looks of concern and impatience. You were disgusted with that, but you were even more disgusted with yourself. You force yourself back on your feet and walk back to the starting position.

“Maybe you should take a break. You’re obviously frustrated and you won’t be able to–”

“I will.” your sharp voice cuts off his, gulping down the lump that has formed in your throat. 

Satoru knows better than to try you when you’re like this, so he swallows down his words and keeps off to the side, a water bottle in hand. His glasses are still on and when you give him a glance, your irritation skyrockets. Did he really not even want to look at you? Has he become that repulsed by you? He has some nerve, blowing you off and treating you like a stranger. You didn’t even do anything and he’s being a complete asshole about everything for no rea–

Your thoughts are cut off by a sharp pain shooting through your ankle. You hadn’t even felt your body move, it was as if it had a mind of its own. While your thoughts were filled with vile insults, you failed yet again. Why are you failing so much all of a sudden?

Your form crumples down to the floor with a shriek, instantly holding the injured limb. Satoru’s body moves on its own too, within the second he’s by your side with wide concerned eyes.

“Shit, are you okay? Where does it hurt?”

His words don’t do anything. You can’t even offer a response because you’re too preoccupied with pain and anger. You can’t do something that you’ve been spent years dedicating yourself to. Sleepless nights and injury upon injury, this should be a slice of cake. It should be easy. But just like with Satoru, you feel different. Forcing yourself to dance, forcing yourself to a blind devotion, forcing yourself to be unhappy. But, since when has ballet made you unhappy? You didn’t know.

“Get away.” you mutter quietly.

His brows furrow and he leans closer. “Wha–”

“I said get the hell away from me.”

Using your upper body strength, you push him away. You wished you hadn’t. But he pushed you away that night, so why can’t you return the favor? “Get out and don’t come back. You’re making me mess up.”

He doesn’t speak for a moment. Gojo Satoru speechless is a funny sight, if this were a different situation, you would’ve laughed. But you don’t, you can’t. He finally finds his voice. “You’re not serious.”

That pushes you even more, gritting your teeth as you look up at him. “I’m dead serious. Get the hell out. Don’t touch me and don’t even talk to me. Your entire presence is a distraction and I hate you for it.”

You knew what you were saying was wrong and hurtful. You were aware of that fact. But they still tumbled out. You still cried in front of him once more. And he still turned his back on you.

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

Working with an injured ankle isn’t for the weak. It isn’t for anyone. Your teacher and doctor would’ve advised you not to, but they didn’t know. You didn’t even remember the last time you slept or ate properly. Everything disgusted you and you intentionally avoided the mirrors in your apartment, covering them with blankets. 

However the pain of forcing yourself to use your ankle, the pain of starving yourself, the pain of just existing is something you started to savor. You would laugh to yourself wondering what went wrong. How long have you been feeling like this? Was meeting Satoru just the catalyst to your inevitable destruction? 

As you stand on stage in front of the suddenly blinding lights in a suddenly uncomfortable attire, you pray in your head to whatever god that’s listening to save you. To take you away from whatever hell you were being subjected to. You’re holding your tears in so it won;t ruin the makeup you spent hours on. Your movements feel stiff and forced, hands tembling while you can barely even present a smile on your face.

You just had to have a solo segment. You just had  to say yes to it. You’re people pleasing even to the end.

Gojo Satoru just had to be in the crowd. 

You two just had to make eye contact.

And you just had to fall in front of everyone. 

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

A sudden call too late at night alerts Satoru while he’s sitting at is dining table that’s too big for one person. He almost doesn’t want to answer, but as soon as he sees the familiar name, he’s answering on instinct.

It’s silent on the other end for a second and he begins to think you buttdialed him. That’s until he hears your voice for the first time in who knows how long. And God, you don’t sound like yourself at all. “Satoru?”

His heart is cracking while listening to you. You sound defeated, almost scared. But why? “Y/n.”

There’s a breathy chuckle on the other end. “I’m sorry, did I wake you up?”

“Of course not.” he wants to say it’s because he can barely sleep at a regular time, but he holds back. “I’ve been up.”

More silence. 

“Ah, I see.” he can hear the contemplation in your voice. “I didn’t mean to call so suddenly, I’m just….thinking.”

“About what?”

“You.”

Satoru’s heart clenches and twist in an ugly manner. “Funny, I was just thinking about you too.”

And you laugh again, so does he. For once, it felt nice. For once, it felt like how it did before.

“Are you busy right now?”

“No.” is his automatic response. 

“Okay, I’m glad. Can you…come over?”

Come over? He hasn’t been over since that dreadful night. Anxiety porus through his veins and he gulps, hesitating for a small second before nodding. “Of course I can.”

“I’ve just….I’ve missed you. Wanted to hear your voice.”

He’s already grabbing his keys and heading out. “Yeah?”

“Yeah.”

His long legs lead him to his car quickly, getting in and balancing the phone between his shoulder and ear. “I’ve missed you too.”

You smiled and you wish he could’ve saw it. 

“I’ll see you then.”

“...See you.” 

Three words are on the tip of you guys’ tongues. Three words. But even three words can be hard to admit. So, you hung up on him.

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

Your apartment is empty when he walks in, confused using the spare key you know he knows about to get in. For some reason you always left it there. It’s like you wanted him to come and see you even when you said you didn’t.

After some wandering, he goes into your bedroom. Flashbacks and nostalgia hits him like cold water. His legs feel shaky all of a sudden and his breath hitches. There’s a small box on your bed that draws his attention. It’s white and wrapped with a red ribbon. Carefully he unwraps it, dread filling his stomach and heart pounding fast. Static is the only thing he hears.

As he opens the box, a pair of ballet shoes greet him.

Yours. 

Not just that, but a small letter.

He opens it with too much force, hands shaking. 

“I’m sorry. I really hope you don’t stay mad at me.

I had so much fun meeting you and giving you everything I had.

Please, live on for me.”

His feet are moving before he can fully register it, calling you as he searches through the apartment for you. Tears fill his pretty eyes and short labored breaths are emitted from his mouth.

His world stops spinning when he hears your phone ring in the barely open bathroom door. In truth, Satoru had a feeling he knew what he was going to find once he entered. His mind knew, but his soul didn’t want to.

Because before him is a sight he can never erase from his memories. 

A bathtub filled with dark water. A bathtub he would bathe with you in sometimes, rubbing your back and combing shampoo through you hair while you giggled.

You’re in it still.

Laying upright with no life in your eyes, a knife in your hand that has toppled over the rim.

If you asked Satoru what he thought in that moment, this would be it.

He wished he died with you.

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

And so that’s it. The story of the man and the woman. Happy endings are something neither were familiar with. 

The man now only has a memory that he’ll keep burned into his brain forever, of the woman.

The memory of,

The beautiful ballerina.

a/n: this story was loosely based off the korean film "ballerina". i loved it so much and it was just SO beautiful to watch. anyways, thank you all for reading! much love!

[torialefay]

📞 “Bye Basket” 💬

bangchan x reader (f); drabble, fluff

✨summary: chan is leaving for tour, which means having to leave you behind. he makes sure to do for you what he can before he leaves.

✨wc: 900

✨warnings: none

• “Christopher, let me innnnn,” you pounded on the door of the bedroom you both shared.

• “Give me 1 more minute!” you heard him panic from inside.

• ‘What could he possibly be doing that he wouldn’t want me to see? I literally see his bare ass every day,’ you thought.

• He had been the perfect little boyfriend lately. Cooking meals, complimenting you 24/7, and making it a point to cuddle you for an hour every night. Hell- the two of you had just gotten back from a haunted house because YOU wanted to go. There’s no way Chan would have picked that shit.

• But he knew how much you loved Halloween. Even if he didn’t.

• He knew how this was your favorite time of the year. Even if it wasn’t his.

• And he also knew that he was leaving tomorrow. Even if he didn’t want to.

• Tomorrow he was headed out to begin his next world tour, and although you were so so proud of him, your heart hurt. How could it not?

• You actively tried not to think about it, but it was hard. You’d gone through it before, so you knew everything would be okay, but it definitely would not be fun.

• “Okay, okay, okay,” you heard Chan say as he waddled toward the door. He unlocked it and pulled the door wide open.

• “You good?” you asked, still confused as to what was going on.

• “Yeah, look!” he smiled, swooping both of his hands toward the bed in a grand gesture to focus your gaze there.

• You walked toward the bed to see a small basket resting on top. Inside of it was… laundry? Just a bunch of black clothes. Albeit very neatly folded black clothes.

• ‘Proud of him for that one I guess.’

• “What am I looking at?” you raised an eyebrow.

• “Wellll, I know you wanted a Boo Basket,” he tilted his head to the side and opened his eyes wide, putting on a look as if to say ‘See, I pay attention.’

“But I thought with me leaving, a Bye Basket would be a bit better.”

• You looked back down to the small basket in front of you. You carefully went through the contents.

◦ Your favorite of all of his black hoodies. You remembered how his ears had turned red when you told him how handsome he looked in it.

◦ A small roller ball of his favorite cologne. Classic Chan to get you your own. Hell, he loved it so much, he’d probably be excited if you just decided to wear it now. Scratch that, he’d love that his signature scent had become yours too.

◦ 3 packs of your favorite candy. I guess he was well-trained at this point. He immediately got them for you every time he went out to grab something- even if you specifically said you didn’t want anything.

◦ A heavy silver chain-link bracelet. You carefully examined it, thinking it was weird he’d think to give you this considering you already wore this exact one. The one he created that says “STAY” across the front. He wore it often too. ‘Weird’… You looked down closer.

No, this was a special one. It didn’t say “STAY.” Instead, in his own handwritten font, the inscription “CHRISTOPHER.”

◦ A small polaroid photo. It was one he had insisted on taking a few nights ago when you were cuddled up on the couch. He gave in and watched a scary movie with you. Obviously it was such a special moment to him that he was willingly watching one, so he needed it to be a memory.

◦ A black… battery? Charger?

• “What is this thing?,” you asked, looking up to Chan.

• “It’s a battery extender. For your phone! So even if you’re out all day, you can still answer my calls and let me hear that sweet voice,” he beamed, obviously proud of himself.

• “Channie, this is perfect. You didn’t have to do all of this!”

• “But I did. I’m so so so sorry I have to leave you, my love.” He sat down on the bed, pulling you along to sit on his lap.

• “I’m so sorry that my job takes me away from you, but hopefully this will help suffice until I get back.”

• You cupped his face and gave him a kiss on the cheek. “I’ll manage.” You couldn’t help but smile.

----

• After Chan had left the next day, you went home to sulk.

• First plan of action: put that hoodie on.

• As you unfolded it and went to throw it over your head, a white slip of paper fell out.

• The final gift in the basket: a letter.

◦ “If you’re reading this letter, then it means I’m probably gone. I want you to know that wherever I travel, a piece of your heart is always going there with me. I promise I miss you more than you will ever miss me. I can’t wait to get back home to you already. This isn’t goodbye for long. I will be back before you know it. Love you forever. -Channie.”

———————————————————————————

If you enjoyed, please consider liking and re-blogging <3

check out my masterlist for more ✨

[cameronspecial]

hey lovely!! i’ve been thinking about rafe spoiling angel and taking her to those cute little stores with all of the cute plushies and stuff. idk, but i absolutely love your work, and i literally giggle and kick my feet when i see that you’ve written more 😛

ilysm pookieeee 😋😋

Let Me Spoil You, Angel

Pairing: Frat!Rafe Cameron x Reader

Warnings: Mentions of Sex

Pronouns: She/Her

Word Count: 1.0K

A/N: Thank you so much. It makes me giddy that you enjoy my work!

Masterlist

Y/N had just found out that she got into her top-choice Master’s Program and Rafe couldn’t be more proud of her. She’s been working so hard, so he wants to reward her for her accomplishments. “Rafe, why are we at the mall? You know I mostly shop at outlet stores,” she complains. Rafe brings her to his side, “I know, but why don’t you let me spoil you, Angel?” She exhales and bobs her head. “Fine, but not more than a hundred dollars,” she limits. She really does love it when he pampers her, but she needs to set some boundaries or else he’ll buy the whole mall. He shakes his head, “One thousand.”

“Two-fifty.” 

“Five hundred.”

“Fine, except I get to buy dinner.”

Rafe is satisfied with the offer and holds his hand out for her. He doesn’t want her to feel guilty about him always spending money on her. The first stop on their tour is the bookstore. He purposefully picked this mall because of the big indie bookstore inside. This is probably where she’ll spend most of her money. She has been browsing the science section of the store for about ten minutes now and has already picked out a few books. Rafe wants her to choose whatever she wants; however, he has a small request. He resets his chin on her shoulder, “Could you throw in some spicy romance books? I like proving to you that I am the ultimate book boyfriend.” Y/N giggles, remembering what happened when he caught her reading Icebreaker. She takes his hand and heads over to the romance section. She browses the books for a few minutes and picks one out. She examines the back, proceeding to add the whole series into the basket. “What’s the book about?” he asks because he is intrigued by the fact that she wants to buy all four books. She smiles at her, “The first one is a grump x sunshine book. She is a photographer and he is rich and her brother’s best friend. I’ve seen it on Bookstagram.” 

He follows her further down, “That sounds interesting. I can’t wait to see where it has us having sex next.” Shy about his words, Y/N turns her head away and continues to look at the books. They spend about forty minutes in the bookstore before moving on to  Miniso. Y/N stares at the wall of stuffed animals in front of her. She knows she wants one, but can’t decide which to choose. “Okay, so there are four possible ones that I want. The penguin, the cat, the bear, or the banana. Which one do you think, Rafe?” she consults. Rafe doesn’t use words to reply; instead, he goes to each one she points out and puts it inside the bag. He adds an elephant in just because he thinks she’ll find it cute. “Rafe, that’s too many. Where am I going to put them?” she reasons, trying to reach into the bag to return some of the plushies. 

He holds his hand out to stop her, “It’s still within your budget. We can put them in the frat storage if there isn’t space in my room and when we find a house in the summer, we just have to make sure there is enough room for them.” “Okay, I guess we can do that. Come on. I want to buy you some things too,” she tells him. They pay for the toys and she drags him to J. Crew. “You don’t have to use the money on me. It’s supposed to be for you.” She turns to him with a grin, “I know. This is for me too. You are going to do a fashion show for me.” Rafe isn’t one to like going shopping, but he will find joy in it if Y/N enjoys it. 

Y/N sits on the little stool Rafe got a sales associate to bring over, waiting for him to come out of the changing room. The door opens and he comes out wearing the teal and white-stripped button-up shirt with the tanned chinos that she picked for him. He does his best to catwalk towards her and spins around for her to take in the full look. “What do we think?” he questions. She gives him a thumbs up, “Rafe, you look so good. We are definitely getting those.” He nods his head before going back to the changing room to try on the next outfit. He comes out in black shorts and a light blue polo, which compliments his eyes. He mocks taking a golf swing, “This is the perfect outfit for golfing. We are going to have to get you a matching one.”

“I don’t golf, Rafe. You know that.” 

“I do, but don’t you think it would be fun to have a matching outfit? I can teach you how to play.” 

“Fine, it would be cool. We can go next week. Now, go finish trying on the rest of the clothes.”

He gives her a mock solute. After trying on the other outfits, they get her a matching outfit to Rafe’s and then go pay. They head to his car, having spent five hundred dollars in almost three hours. It’s a new record for them honestly. Rafe opens the passenger side door for her and she slides into the seat with a thank you. He puts the shopping bags in the trunk, making his way to the diver’s side. “Did you have a good day?” he postulates. His eyes land on her beaming mouth and she holds his chin in between her fingers. Her head moves up and down, “I had the best day. Thank you for spoiling me, Rafe.” She gives him a sweet kiss. “I will always shower my angel with gifts. Now, where are you treating me to dinner?” “Let’s get sushi!” she announces, pointing her finger in forward. He chuckles at how adorable she is and starts the car, driving in the direction of her favourite sushi restaurant.

Taglist: @winterrrnight @loves0phelia @thelomlisrafecameron @wickedlovely121 @queen-shadow22 @nonbullshit-toleratingkindagirl

[thezombieprostitute]

Would werewolf Steve take me apple picking and help me bake apple pie and let me boop his nose with flour? I’m in a very fall mood today.

I haven't thought about Werewolf Steve in such a long time!

Warnings: Mild/implied smut.

The Northern Forests are absolutely gorgeous this time of year. All the different leaf colors make the forest look breathtaking. The only thing more beautiful, to Steve, was you.

It's been over a year since you woke up to a muscly, hairy man rowing you down the river to get medical assistance. In that time you and Steve grew closer than he imagined he could ever let himself get. You were more curious than afraid of his wolf side. You showed him unending trust that he longed to live up to. You even got him willing to go out and interact with people more and more.

While the two of you were living in the middle of nowhere, you focused on your nature photography and conservation efforts, and Steve found himself getting back into painting and drawing. It was a side of himself he had shut down in favor of keeping himself, his wolf, under control. After his first transformation around you, where you hadn't run in fear, and he hadn't attacked you, Steve soon learned his wolf needed freedom, not a prison. His artistic side, his protective nature, his need to look after others, those were the things that would keep his wolf side from destroying everything around him.

So when the autumn hits, Steve is more than happy to take you to some of the nearby farms and orchards. He's gone from being a recluse to feeling excited to go out and do things with you. He makes sure you don't have to do any of the heavy lifting, almost appearing to have inhuman strength until you chide him. He can be a little careless about keeping his werewolf nature a secret when it comes to showing off for you.

Other than that, things go well until you have an almost literal run-in with one of the young men working at the orchard.

"Ope, sorry about that, Ma'am," the young man quickly apologizes.

"It's fine," you assure. "I should've looked where I was going."

Steve is standing behind you, your back to his chest. You swear you can feel his growl. The young man makes the briefest eye contact with him before ducking his head and carefully backing away, still apologizing. You try to turn around to look at him but Steve wraps his arms tightly around you and runs his nose along your neck.

"Steve, you can't do that," you scold him. "It was an accident."

"He touched you," Steve quietly growled. "Almost hurt you."

"Steve? Are you...are you okay?"

He nips your neck, making your breath hitch. "Need to get you home."

"We gotta pay for these apples, first," you tell him. He grumbles but acquiesces.

At home, Steve doesn't even let you grab the apples out of the truck, mumbling promises of getting them later. He's thrown you over his shoulder and is carrying you into the house. You laugh and call him a caveman, causing him to smack your ass. He gets you on the couch before ripping your clothes off of you and throwing your legs over his shoulders.

Several hours later Steve keeps his promise of getting the apples for you. You're sitting at the table because your legs aren't working at the moment. He actually looks guilty as he places the baskets of apples on the table for you.

"I'm sorry about that," he says. "I don't know what came over me. I just...I know it was an accident but seeing that guy touch you, I...I guess I got a little..."

"Territorial?" You finish for him.

"Yeah, that," he nods. "I had this uncontrollable urge, a need, to cover you in my scent. Mark you as mine."

"Well you certainly succeeded," you chuckle. "Now get to helping me peel and slice some of these apples for pies."

Steve smiles. Domestic bliss was something he was certain he'd never be allowed after becoming a werewolf. But you've upturned his world in the best possible ways. You turned this place from a house to a home, making it a refuge, not a Fortress of Solitude. As you carry on with the baking, filling the kitchen with the delightful aromas of apples and cinnamon, Steve still can't keep his hands off of you. His excuse is that you were so weak kneed before he's gotta keep his arms wrapped around you so you don't fall. He doesn't even bat an eye when you boop his nose with a flour covered finger. He just wipes off the flour by nuzzling your neck, making you laugh.

As the night approaches, Steve's wolf becomes more awake. Steve can tell it's trying to get his attention about something but he can't figure it out. That night he's more restless than usual, but it's nowhere near the full moon. Not wanting to worry you, he tells you he's going to go do a territory check to burn off some energy. Though he's gotten better about transforming in front of you, he still waits until he's sure you're asleep before doing so.

In wolf form, Steve takes a deep breath, gathering information. There is something different. Something that wasn't there before. He wants to investigate it but his wolf form is in charge and is insistent on doing the territory check. It seems extra focused on security. He spends much of the night making his rounds before finally investigating the source of the new scent. As he gets closer to home, the scent shows up again. It grows stronger as he gets inside the house. Maybe it's the apples? The baking? Steve thinks. He swears he feels his wolf roll its eyes at him.

They get to the bedroom where you're sleeping and that's when it hits him. She's pregnant! Steve's wolf lightly growls in confirmation. The two are aligned in this moment in their desire to keep you, and their pup, safe. But how is Steve going to tell you?

Tagging: @alicedopey; @darsynia; @delicatebarness; @icefrozendeadlyqueen; @ronearoundblindly

[disneyprincemuke]

i didn't tell you i was scared * fem!driver

perhaps carrying the burden of being the perfect eldest daughter after all these years have its disadvantages as well

pairings: fem!driver and her literal family

notes: don't even get me started on how fuckin long it took me to write this bro and also let's not talk about how bad this one is ok? thanks

(series masterlist) | (📂 2025: fall from grace)

(prev)

being back home has always brought about a sense of peace she hasn’t been able to replicate anywhere else. it’s just a different serenity when she’s back under the blankets of the bed she’d grown up in, surrounded by everything that reminded her of being young and innocent.

oh, how she misses the times when it felt like the world was in her hands. how naïve of her to think that if she worked hard, she’d get everything she wanted.

every single word of rejection slowly dug the trenches she’s managed to find herself in lately.

she’s so deep in that she doesn’t think there’s a way out.

she lies on her back, childhood stuffed animals burying her in the blanket. she bores holes in the roof of her room where her glow-in-the-dark stars stare right back at her.

she can almost hear the ghost of her 13-year-old self whining as oscar and logan prop themselves up on her bed to paste them on her ceiling, making fun of her for being too short to do it herself.

it used to be so simple.

there’s soft knock on the door followed bt the creaking of its hinges as it’s pushed open. a head pops in. “can we go to the store?”

“what?” she turns her head towards the door and furrows her eyebrows. “can’t you just take my car and go alone?”

dalton frowns, “is it such a crime to spend time with my very beautiful older sister?”

she raises an eyebrow. “you want me to pay, don’t you?”

“don’t make me sound so feral,” the young boy huffs with a roll of his eyes. “i haven’t seen you in months… come on, let’s do something together?”

“i don’t really…” she sighs as she meets her younger brother’s stare and hopeful smile. “alright, mate, just let me change out of my pyjamas.”

that’s how she finds herself at a convenience store at 2 in the morning, hands in the pockets of one of logan’s old jackets that he left in her parent’s house, slowly sauntering through aisles with a blank stare.

she’s been staring at a box of cereal for a couple of minutes, debating with herself if she should let herself indulge. but lately, it just doesn’t feel like she deserves nice things.

when dalton finds her, he’s got a basket full of snacks and drinks. he stops at the end of the aisle with a puzzled stare and tilts his head. “didn’t see anything you want?”

she smiles, “not really. and i’m supposed to be watching my diet — too much ice cream, noah said.”

which is just another blatant lie. she hasn’t touched a drop of ice cream since matt had packed his bags and left her apartment. she hasn’t even really been eating.

dalton hums, “i guess… let yourself have a cheat day, though.”

she sighs out a soft laugh and slings an arm over dalton’s shoulders. “maybe tomorrow. come on, let’s pay up before mama finds out i let you convince me to drive you out to the store in the middle of the night.”

she rests her head at the foot of her bed, nose-to-nose with kidnapper as he sleeps peacefully on one of her pillows.

“wish my life was as simple as yours,” she mutters, running her finger along the cat’s nose. “wish i could sleep all day and be adored like you, kid.”

she glances at her phone, lying peacefully on her side table next to the bed. it’s been going off with constant text messages for the past 5 minutes, most from logan and oscar asking about her parents’ anniversary party, and some from matt.

she can’t get herself to pick up the phone and answering feels like such a daunting task. she can’t find the right words to type out and send out as an acceptable response.

“hey,” the door opens and her mother’s head pops in, “busy?”

she lifts her head and smiles slightly. “what do you need me to do?”

“can you pick up the decorations from town? it’s pre-ordered, so you just gotta pick it up. then maybe could you bring home some dinner?” her mother flashes her a sheepish grin, obviously hoping that she would say yes.

“can’t you get dalton to pick it up? i’ll let him use my car if that’s what you’re worried about,” she offers with a small, unnoticeable scowl on her face. her plan for the entire day was to simply lie in her bedroom and do absolutely nothing.

her day simply isn’t complete unless she’s wallowed in self pity.

“he’s barely permitted to drive a car with an adult in the passenger seat,” her mother sighs. “come on, please? i’ll make you your favourite breakfast tomorrow.”

“really? it has to be me?”

“you’ve locked yourself in your room the 2 days you’ve been back,” her mother sighs again with the shake of her head. “i thought you came home early to help around.”

“i came back early to spend my break here. that doesn’t mean anything about helping around,” she complains, yet she’s scrambling to get herself off her bed. she knows better than to get into this sort of argument with her mother — it’s simply not going to be worth it. “but if it has to be me…”

she gets up and drops kidnapper off in dalton’s room. she changes out of her day-old pyjamas and heads to town where her mother had asked her to go.

all the while cursing under her breath about having so much to do on her supposed break. she’d only driven herself back ahead of her parents’ anniversary party to give herself a break from the fast-paced nature of london.

that and the refusal to go back to her apartment when it no longer felt like home.

but she does all that her mother asks of her anyway because her mother says so.

“you need to eat more, my love.” she watches her mother stand from her position on the dinner table and pick up a bowl of noodles. “you look like you haven’t been eating at all.”

“mama,” she tries to protest with a sigh, shaking her head as she tries to push away the bowl from her plate. “i’m not very hungry.”

her mother is insistent. she shakes her head with a soft huff, scooping out a bunch of noodles and putting it on the plate in front of her. “you need to eat more than you’re eating.”

she lets out an irritated sigh and turns to her father, sat next to her mother, for some sort of words to help her. but he just shrugs at her with an apologetic smile.

“i just want you to look like yourself again,” her mother sighs, pinching her cheek tenderly with a small smile. “you’ve had a tough year.”

she scoffs, dropping her head to toy with the noodles on her plate. of course, she uses her shit of a season to justify being an overbearing figure in her life. she would have been more tolerant of it — as she’s been her entire life — but it’s just not a good time for this behaviour right now.

“fine, whatever.”

she glances down the hallway for anyone who would catch her before she opens the door. she’s greeted by 2 beds and an empty room, but an overwhelming familiarity of friendship. a friendship that she’s strayed so far from that it barely makes sense for her to be standing in this bedroom.

on top of the dresser is a framed picture of her, oscar and logan at a karting track in the earlier days of their karting days together. she stands between the boys, oscar and logan leaning into her with their lips pressed against either side of her cheeks.

on the beds, she can see the 3 of them cuddled up together when she was 14 seeking help from the older boys with her homework.

if she thinks hard enough, she sees her 15-year-old self on oscar’s bed with the blankets pulled up to her chin with logan and oscar squeezing in the other bed in the room when she’s having trouble sleeping by herself.

in the far corner of the room, she can see herself at 16 curled up on the floor after her first boyfriend had broken up with her. and oscar walks in with a small scowl but 3 pints of ice cream for them to share while they try to distract her of the pain.

the room’s been cleaned and polished by her mother, preparing for oscar and logan’s return for their anniversary party this weekend.

she makes a sharp turn for the cabinet at the side of the room, pushing through hangers of jackets and sweaters hanging neatly, untouched for god knows how long. she sighs when a familiar red jacket comes into view.

“i told mama this is mine,” she grumbles under her breath, pulling the jacket out of the cabinet. it’s a ferrari jacket that oscar had gotten from his parents when he was younger, but since he’d outgrown it, she’d claimed it for herself.

“oh, there you are.”

she turns around, with a heavy heart and teary eyes, and comes face-to-face with her father. “hey.”

“i’ve been looking all over for you,” he sighs heavily, stepping into the room with caution. “i just wanted to check in on you after what happened during dinner. you know mama meant well.”

she grins with a slight nod. “yeah, i know.”

“and we’re just concerned for you.” he wraps an arm around her and rests his chin on top of her head. “after the year you’re having… we’re all concerned for you.”

“concerned?” she repeats under her breath, looking up at her father. “regarding what? i’m doing fine.”

“personally, i’m just concerned because you’re my princess,” he mumbles, giving her a squeeze. “and you know… i’m your father? i know if something’s wrong, but it’s okay if you don’t wanna talk about it yet.”

she lets out a heavy sigh, relaxing in his arms. she wraps her arms around him and nuzzles her face into his chest, “thanks for not making me talk about it.”

she throws her head back, trying to pull back the hand that’s clasped in dalton’s hands, yanking her towards the garage of the house.

“come on,” dalton mutters, “we’ll have so much fun! just like before!”

“dalton, i told you i didn’t feel like leaving the house today,” she whines, trying another attempt at pulling her hand back from him. “i have some things to settle with my finances and schedule… i’ve put that off for a couple days and kristen and noah need those by tonight.”

“i’m sure it can’t take that long,” dalton whines with a heavy sigh, tugging on her arm. “just a quick movie in at the theatre then a cup of ice cream?”

“dalton, come on, i said i don’t have the time for this!” she shrieks, yanking her arm back and stomping a foot on the ground. “i’ll pay for you to go with a couple of friends, but i can’t go with you. i have adult matters to handle before the week is over.”

dalton blinks at her, shocked at her sudden outburst. “i just wanted to spend time with you before you go off and not come home for months… i’m sorry.”

she opens her mouth to add to her previous statement, but seeing her younger brother with a frown on his face instantly felt like a pierce through her heart. “i– dalton,” she sighs, pinching the bridge of her nose. “i just have so much going on right now. maybe we can go a little later? i just need to finish a couple of things for my team.”

“it’s alright,” dalton sighs dejectedly, shaking his head. he walks past her to head for the stairs. “maybe next time when you’re not being a bitch anymore.”

“what the fuck,” she mutters with eyebrows furrowed, turning around with her gaze following his steps. “you did not just say that.”

“what?” dalton whirls around. “it’s true. you’ve been such a bitch since you came back. you lock yourself inside your room, you never wanna talk to me, you never wanna join me for snacks, it takes me extra effort just to convince you to come out of the house and do stuff with me… you changed, mate.”

she takes a deep breath. “of course, you don’t understand. you’re just a 16-year-old — you don’t fucking know anything.”

“i know my sister,” dalton scowls. he rolls his eyes and scoffs with a dry laugh. “sorry, i mean i used to know my eldest sister. nowadays, you just ignore my texts, never return my calls and never wanna hang out. you’re a flake, rocky.”

“and you’re just a fucking kid, why should i take anything you say seriously? what do you know about anything that’s outside of your stupid video games and secondary school?” she huffs. “and what do you know about what’s going on with me? that’s not fair.”

“i’m not talking to someone who’s not open to criticism.” he glances at her over his shoulder one more time before running up the stairs. “get a grip, mate.”

“hey, i heard you were back early.” the front door closing echoes in the house, ciara putting her backpack down next to the shoe rack.

the other girl sits on the couch, attention unwavering to the tv show she’s put on to watch. “yeah. hi.”

“i bought you dinner on my drive home from campus.” ciara skips over to the couch happily, leaning down on the back of the couch her older sister sits on. ciara turns her head to grin at her. “from the chinese restaurant. i got you some noodles and wanton.”

“oh, thank you.” she turns her head with a small grin and a soft eye, eyes stinging with every blink. “welcome home, ara.” she pulls ciara in for a short side hug and presses a kiss on her cheek. “how’s uni?”

“it was alright,” ciara shrugs. “join me for dinner?”

she hums, returning her attention to the tv screen. “maybe not; i’m still full from the lunch i had. but thank you for getting me dinner.”

“you’re home!” dalton appears at the top of the stairs with a big grin. “did you get me my fried rice?”

“of course!” ciara beams, beckoning him down towards the dining table. “help me set up the table. rocky’s still full from lunch. it’s just us, come on.”

dalton hops over to the kitchen with ciara, not sparing his eldest sister another stare. so she just turns off the tv and runs back to her bedroom.

“oh. i didn’t know it was such a sensitive topic,” her mother shrugs with a soft chuckle. “i was just curious because you said matt was going to be here for the party this weekend and suddenly he’s not.”

the girl shrugs, keeping her stare on the plate. “yeah, but i really don’t wanna talk about him right now.”

“come on, just concerned for your relationship.” she clenches her jaw, feeling a knot form in her throat as she lifts her eyes to meet her mother’s stare across the table. “did something happen?”

“no,” she lies with a small grin. “he’s just got some things to settle back in the states. he’s just busy.”

“or maybe he realised you were a bitch,” dalton mutters under his breath.

“dalton,” ciara warns through gritted teeth, hitting dalton on the shoulder very gently. “what the hell?”

“what? it’s true,” dalton mutters. “you know that more than i do.”

“that’s enough,” her father speaks up. “let’s just eat dinner, okay?”

“no, my love,” a whine comes from behind her, “you put it up wrongly.”

the girl on the top of the ladder looks over her shoulder and meets her mother’s judgemental stare and disappointed frown. “you literally told me to put it here, mama.”

“put it up higher, no– like– i’ll just do it.” her mother offers her a reassuring smile and beckons her to get down from her position.

“no, it’s so dangerous for you to be up here,” she mutters, attempting to readjust the wall decorations to her liking. “just tell me where to put it.”

“you’re,” her mother pauses, “not doing it right. just come down and let me do it.”

she huffs and drops her hands. “fine.”

she climbs down the ladder, folding her arms over her chest as she watches her mother replace her.

“see? isn’t that better.”

but she swears it’s exactly the way she’d put it up just a moment ago.

“is this what you’re going to do the entire time you’re here? just mope in your room with your cat?”

she lifts her head from her pillow and turns, resting her head again as she stares at her mother standing at the door. “is this really how you want to start the day?”

“it’s noon. the day started almost 3 hours ago.” her mother leans on the door frame of her bedroom. “you have to get up and do something. locking yourself up in here,” she pauses to look around the kiddish bedroom, “it won’t make you feel any better.”

“i just have a lot going on,” she mumbles, flipping herself to face the other side of the room. “i’ll come down in a while. i just need a couple minutes.”

“oh, my god, mama!” her voice echoes in the empty house, running down the steps with her mother following shortly behind her. “stop asking me about matt! i don’t want to talk about him right now!” she turns around at the bottom of the steps. “not with you; not with anyone!”

“i’m just trying to give him an answer, my love! he’s concerned for you. he said you haven't answered his messages all week,” her mother reprimands with her hands on her hips.

“that’s between matt and i and you have no say in this, sorry.” she raises her hands in the air to surrender before walking away. “it’s just none of your business.”

she’d just been relaxing in her room by herself when her mother came in trying to make conversation. she’d been receptive at first until she realised that she was trying to get her to talk about matt again.

which, she’s just not ready to open up about yet.

“it is if you’re acting this way! locking yourself in your room all day… fighting with dalton? don't even get me started on the way you can’t even clean up after yourself — you’re an adult now.”

“i’m an adult, yeah, so let me deal with my fucking problems however i see fit!” she laughs dryly and turns to face her mother again. “can i have some room to breathe? please? without everyone following closely behind me and staring at me like i’m pathetic?”

“we don’t think you’re pathetic!”

“i see the sorry in your eyes when you look at me! everyone seems to be looking at me that way lately!”

“my l–”

“just please leave me alone!”

so she gets in her car and drives away. she doesn’t know how long she drives for, tears in her eyes and chest heaving in sobs.

but she finds herself at the park nearby, one that she used to frequent with oscar and logan after school. she parks her car right by the roadside and forces herself onto the empty playground. she sits on the slide for hours until she feels slightly better.

she pushes the front door open with a heavy sigh. the sadness of pulling up in the driveway of her house worries her. it’s like the sadness seems to find a way to follow her everywhere.

everywhere she goes, it’s like there’s a dark cloud hanging above her head and she doesn’t know how to make it go away.

“where have you been?” ciara’s voice startles her, sending her a step back. “we’ve been worried sick for you after you left so abruptly before dinner! you weren’t even picking up your phone!”

“i just needed some time alone,” she says with a heavy sigh. she closes the door behind her and slips out of her shoes. “i was just at the playground i used to go to with logan and oscar. think i left my phone in my bedroom before i left and i went to grab dinner–”

“seriously? you’re not even sorry?” ciara screams, throwing her arms in the air. “we’ve been so worried sick for you since you walked out for no reason?”

she tilts her head. “no reason? mama has been grilling me about things i don’t want to talk about since i came back.”

“she’s concerned for you! we’re all concerned for you!”

“i didn’t ask for your concern! i’m asking you guys to leave me alone; give me some fucking room to breathe!”

“then why did you come all the way here just to lock yourself in your bedroom? if you want to be left alone, you should’ve just fucking stayed in london where you have an apartment where no one will fucking bother you!”

she huffs, hands on her hips. “fine. i’ll just go back. since it’s such a bother that i’m too sad to be here right now.” she stomps past her younger sister and up the stairs, heading right for her bedroom.

“don’t try and guilt trip me to feel sorry for you!” ciara chases after her. “it’s just not fair that you came all this way to be fighting with every single person in this household! just because blythe’s not here, doesn’t mean you’ll get away with this behaviour!”

“i’m not trying to guilt trip you,” she snarls, grabbing her bag from the ground and shoving her things, sprawled all over her room, into it. “but i’m sorry my feelings are such a burden to you guys. cause personally, i’m not having the best time.”

“if you’re not having the best time, don’t bring us down with you! it’s mama and papa’s anniversary! spend a little time not thinking of yourself for once!”

“i’ve spent my whole life not thinking of myself! you don’t know — you’re just a spoilt brat who got everything she wanted growing up! i actually had to work for the things i wanted.”

ciara scoffs, finally stepping into the room. “who gave you the right to act all high and mighty like you’re better than everyone? being the eldest kid doesn’t mean shit, genius.”

“well, what would you know about being the eldest kid? you never had to take care of anyone besides yourself; you never had to think of anyone but yourself.” she picks up kidnapper, sleeping on the foot of her bed and throws her bag over her shoulder. “just fuck off, ciara.”

“you’re not the only one with problems, you know,” ciara scoffs, folding her arms over her chest. “and what, you’re leaving? way to face your problems head-on.”

“i’m leaving because clearly i’m not wanted here,” the older girl sighs, pushing past the girl to her bedroom door. “so let me get out of your hair before my sadness becomes too contagious for your liking.”

“you’re leaving?” blythe says in shock, watching her older sister walk past her without another moment’s hesitation. “but i just got here. and isn’t the part tomorrow?”

“she’s throwing us the dramatics!” ciara announces with a loud laugh, running down the stairs to catch up with her older sister heading right for the front door. “she’s leaving because she can’t face the fact that she could be overreacting this one time!”

“overreacting?” blythe repeats, following both sisters down the stairs. “what are you guys even fighting about?”

“she left for hours with no contact!”

“i don’t even wanna stay long enough for you to paint me to be the villain,” the girl announces, pulling the front door open. “i’m leaving.”

taglist: @wcnorris @treehouse-mouse @laura-naruto-fan1998 @mindless-rock @vellicora @ironmaiden1313 @angsthology @cherry-piee @christianpulisic10 @elliegrey2803 @33-81 @darleneslane @nikfigueiredo @happy-nico @namgification @localwhoore @notawc @sadg3 @kazuha-pista-badam @mellowarcadefun @megatrilss1885 @peqch-pie @woozarts @meadhbhcavanagh @2bormaybenot @a-disturbing-self-reflection @mclarengf @xoscar03 @nomie-11 @green-thots @inejismywife @love4lando @louvrepool

[nights-at-crystarium]

As a twitter/tumblr user since 2010-2011, I believe I have sufficient grounds to say that currently we as a community are living through the scariest, shittiest time yet. This post isn’t trying to fearmonger, no I’m not leaving tumblr until it literally keels over, but I suggest that we don’t put all our eggs in one basket.

If twitter/tumblr stay usable, great! In the worse scenario, you’d have kept posting on a new platform and stayed ahead of the curve.

This post shares my personal experience with three potential “new”* fandom places, and is aimed to help fellow content creators. I’m an artist fully depending on internet to survive, my reasoning may not apply to you if you’re a hobbyist. Do your own research, it’s always healthy. * Pillowfort and mastodon have been around for 5+ years, bluesky is ~2 years old.

Discovering new people to follow kinda sucks on all three platforms, twitter and tumblr are eons ahead, but, given the recent chaos and uncertainty, I’m willing to be patient, keep posting on those, and feel safer than I would’ve otherwise been. More baskets good, one basket bad.

All three have poor visual customization, don’t expect custom tumblr themes.

This list starts with the least popular, but most human and easy to join, and what I personally trust the most. All three allow nsfw if labeled properly.

✦ Pillowfort is a barebones tumblr. Intuitive, cozy, but currently very, very small. Be patient with its clunkiness or lack of some features, it’s made by an AO3-like team. I’d personally love if the fandom crowd managed to redirect its attention to it instead of the sus bluesky.

Joining: is free, invite-only, but the waitlist is nearly instant.

Lurk around on their official tumblr: @/pillowfort-social

✦ Mastodon, for me personally, is impossible to explain directly. I’ll use several comparisons.

- Discord but all servers can interact. You’re still on a server curated by some human(s) that might tell you what you can and can’t post, BUT, if you don’t like that server’s policy, you can move to a new one while keeping your followers. - Email, users A and B may be registered on different domains, still they can talk. It’s a weird comparison, but fediverse (please I’m not explaining THAT but it’s a good thing) in general looks like another email story: unlike big sites that come and go, it might stand the test of time. - Someone compared mastodon’s structure to xiv’s dc and servers, if you look at its domain names that way, it might be easier to understand.

Depending on user, mastodon may feel gatekeepy/snowflakey. I haven’t spent enough time on there to form a proper opinion yet, but a warning’s due.

An actually good and hopeful thing about mastodon AND tumblr: the two might start interacting in future. Ever lamented that your fav asian artists don’t use tumblr? If they use misskey, or any other place on the fediverse, it might be possible to follow them directly from tumblr in future, and vice versa.

Joining: is free, however some servers close for new members sometimes, and have human moderators reviewing your request.

✦ Bluesky is a twitter without Musk: today’s average internet user reads this, drops everything and already looks to register there. It’s still sus, but people flock to it like crazy. Most likely to become the next big fandom place in my eyes, even if I’m not happy about that.

I personally have no good feelings about bluesky. Same as twitter, which I hated even before the 2018 tumblr exodus, yet the crowd decided to make it The New Fandom Place, and, grudgingly, I had to give up and also join them in 2022. During the year I haven’t stopped despising twitter, yet, I can’t deny that it helped me survive. I estimate half of my patrons, and, hell, even tumblr audience, comes from twitter. So, if bluesky ends up being the next hot shit, I’ll have to keep up because internet pays for my living.

Joining: is free but hell, invite-only, the waitlist is a lie, your best chance to join is a direct invite.

This’s all I’ve got to say for now. If you have a correction or an addition, replies/reblogs are welcome!

Screenshots of the current interfaces under the cut, you may spy on my profiles o/

Pillowfort

Mastodon.art

Bluesky

[raineandsky]

hi! i love ur work! i was wondering if you could write something about two enemies (hero x villain) that are undercover as civilians and begrudgingly working together? and somehow villain witnesses an interaction between hero and someone that clearly makes the hero uncomfortable, and realizes his hero has some trauma there? thank you!

ooooh i love this!! thank you for the request, hope you enjoy :D

tw: stalking

“Huh,” someone says flatly from the tills. “Long time no see.”

The hero’s gaze is turned very pointedly to the screen in front of them. “Yeah.”

The villain glances up from where he’s more or less fighting a stack of baskets. A woman is letting herself into the hero’s space, her arm resting casually on the counter and a smug smirk playing at her lips. The hero is leaning as far away as physically possible from her, looking anywhere but her face.

Ooh, drama. The villain can’t deny a little excitement in this bland little life.

“You’ve been avoiding me,” the woman continues. Her voice is much too loud for what she’s saying. The hero winces. The villain edges curiously closer. “A talk is long overdue, ain’t it?”

“I’m working,” the hero says weakly.

The hero has a fatal flaw. The villain positively delights in the fact. As if the hero can feel the joy radiating off the villain, they shoot him a desperate glance.

“You’re helping a customer, honey,” the woman says brazenly. “Now tell me why you’ve been avoiding me.”

“Sorry.” An older man pulls the villain’s attention from the unfolding show in front of him, much to his dismay. “I’ve been waiting a while. Is that the only till available?”

The villain groans inwardly. This bit of fun will have to be for another day. “Sorry. Let me sort that for you.”

He makes his way to the tills, where the hero is trying—and failing, by the looks of it—to shoot down the woman’s questions. Villainy has given him an extra lack of care; he shoves himself straight into their conversation without a thought.

“Hi,” the villain cuts in smoothly, “hi—sorry, you’re holding up the queue.”

A queue of one, mind. The woman gives him an incredulous once-over. “They’re helping a customer, honey.”

“They’re chatting on the job.” The villain shoots the hero an annoyed glare, which they return, stupidly, with relief. “You’re preventing our staff from working. I need you to pay and leave, please.”

The woman smirks like she’s about to win an argument. “I’m not paying for anything.”

“Oh, cool.” The villain returns her smugness with plain annoyance. “You can just get out then.”

“You—! Ugh, fine.” The woman sneers at him before turning her gaze back to the hero. “I’ll see you at the end of your shift, honey.”

The hero positively pales. “Oh, uh—”

The woman saunters for the doors, clearly disinterested in an answer, and the hero watches her go blankly.

“Alright.” The villain ushers the old man ahead. “Do your job this time, or I’ll have to smite you into next week.”

The literalness of the sentence is lost to the old man, but the hero smiles slightly at the threat anyway.

He leaves after what feels like an eternity, and the villain pounces on his opportunity for gossip instantly. “Well? Make this dead-end job worth it, please.”

The hero’s face hardens into an irritated frown. “Is there a reason you’re so interested in my life?”

The villain graces him with an innocent smile. “Blackmail.”

The hero stares at him for a long moment before deflating with a sigh. They start folding a plastic bag more carefully than the villain has ever had the displeasure of watching. “She’s my ex.”

“It’s always the ex!” The villain laughs, giving the hero a light punch in the arm. It’s a lot calmer a gesture than he’ll be giving them later, but he doesn’t need the entire shop knowing he could burn this place to the ground. “What’d you do to piss her off?”

The bag gets lovingly placed on the folded bag pile the hero apparently has. The villain’s never been close enough to this till to have noticed it before.

“I didn’t do anything,” the hero says defensively. “She’s the one who couldn’t let it go and thinks following me around is going to fix anything.”

The villain gapes openly at the hero. The hero pointedly turns away to fiddle with something on the register next to them.

“Oh my god,” the villain says in the tones of a dramatic schoolgirl. “You have a stalker.”

The no I don’t the villain was expecting doesn’t come out. The hero carefully adjusts the register screen, the angle way more important than it should be. “Oh my god, [Hero],” the villain repeats, “you have a stalker.”

“I don’t see why that’s such a crazy concept to you,” the hero snaps. “I thought you’d have loved the thought of someone creeping around after me.”

“I’d love it if it was me creeping around after you,” the villain says with a scoff. “I know what I’d be doing if I was doing it. What’s she doing?”

“Hoping I’ll talk to her.”

“She’s insane.”

“That’s well established by now.”

“Okay, well…” The villain wrings his hands awkwardly. “If you, like, want me to smite her or anything, y’know…”

“What is with you and smiting people?” The hero laughs, kind of, and the villain hates that he’s glad they do. “And why would you do it if I wanted you to?”

The villain shrugs. He’s the one turning his face away now, picking idly at some of the vinyl peeling off the counter. “It’s a nice excuse for me to go after someone who clearly deserves it.”

“And I don’t?”

“I’m trying to be nice for the first time in my life, [Hero],” the villain snaps sharply. “Stop making it so difficult.”

The hero rolls their eyes. “Sorry, sorry. Go ahead. I’ll be reporting this to the first journalist I see though. Ah, I can see the headline already.” They grin at the villain’s growing scowl. “Evil villain turned good by a hero's personal problems. They would love you.”

“And I’m going to love kicking your ass so hard tonight you won’t be able to sit for a week,” he retorts. Then, after a moment’s deliberation, “do you need me to walk you to your car?”

“Aww, you’re so—”

“Okay, no, nevermind. Walk yourself.”

The hero smiles lightly. “If you don’t mind. It’d help a lot.”

The villain nods shortly. He turns back the pile of baskets and makes a mental note to add an extra round to his smiting machine later.

[sleepyconfusedpotato]

There was a Magnitudo 5 earthquake in Bandung. Got a story about this 😂

---

So me and my mum was in a mall looking for home appliances. We were searching for some kind of basket to put stuff in, so we went to a section where there were towers and towers of racks filled with all kinds of basket. Like, it's a whole ass labyrinth right.

And then I felt the ground move. I thought it's just a small earthquake. Living in Indonesia, earthquake is regular occurrence. Often it's small and not harmful at all, so I didn't pay it too much mind. My mum is still looking for baskets.

And then the ground began vibrating. The baskets began to shake as well.

"Ma. I think this one's serious."

But my mum STILL was looking for the baskets, mumbling "This one's fragile, this one's too small..."

THEN THE FUCKING BASKETS START TO FALL OUT LIKE LEGIT FALLING OUT. The racks were about to tumble down as well, I had to hold the racks so it doesn't fucking fall down on my mum.

"Maaaaaa we gotta go maaaaa this one might be dangerousssss."

Then she looked at the fallen baskets, WHILE THE GROUND IS SHAKING, people were hurrying out of the store, and she bent down to take the fallen basket and said "OH get this one! We can buy multiple and stack them vertically."

"MA." I almost yelled, "We gotta get out! This is a legit earthquake!"

And then she KEPT browsing for more baskets.

Aaaand the earthquake stopped.

---

It's been a few days since then, and I still don't know if she didn't feel the entire fucking place literally shaking and moving, or she felt it but didn't give a single FUCK about it. Only baskets are in her mind.

Oh and she bought like 3 and it's right beside my desk.

[webslingingslasher]

i imagine peter to be the sweetest ever. imagine hes been pinning over you for years and eventually after another failed first date, you announce youre done with love. then peter stands up and declares hes gonna show you how its done. and thats how you start dating peter

working on a lot of stuff, i promise i'm doing the best i can atm!

You’ve been in love three times. 

Number one was Conner Fields. He was your first boyfriend, it was all innocence and excitement. The first time you felt nervous to hold a hand and you were locked up with jitters the entire night after your first kiss. Awkward middle school dances and staying up all night texting, pure childhood love. It didn’t work out, but a part of you will always love Conner Fields and you can hope the same for him. 

Number two was Dustin Powers. He was your highschool love, it was all exploring and discovering. The first time you felt lust, a feeling that made you kiss until you couldn’t breathe and felt like your lips would fall off. Questionable moves that turned into breathy sighs and shaky hands as you undressed another person for the first time. Unsure movements that became bold and calculated. The first time you had real trust for someone, the first true love you ever had. 

Number three was Peter Parker. He was your best friend, it was all comfortable and peaceful. The first time you felt homey and peaceful, like nothing could touch you or wreck you ever again. The first time you felt someone truly had your back, someone who defended you with a cardboard sword. The first time you felt love first, words second. The first time you had someone forgo their own needs to carry yours. The first time you felt breathless by a kiss. The first time you felt numb and buzzed and high all at the same time by a hand on your lower back. The first time someone said they weren’t going anywhere and you believed them. 

There were guys between boyfriends two and three. Nothing serious, a couple dates and it fizzled out. One guy refused to buy you your meal, and you wouldn’t mind, you can pay for yourself. However, you did mind that he made a point to tell you after you had paid that you passed the test, and when you asked what test he shrugged and told you it was so he could tell who just wanted a free dinner and who wanted a real date. You didn’t respond to his texts after that. 

One guy quite literally forced his tongue down your throat and you couldn’t have noped out faster. 

One guy flirted with the waitress, bartender, movie theater popcorn maker and then told you at the end of the night he took a chance on someone who isn’t on his regular scale of hotness. You almost burst a blood vessel while withholding your hand from smacking him. 

The final straw was when a date showed up an hour late, you couldn’t have felt more embarrassed. Correction, you could when he showed up obviously freshly fucked and when you pointed it out he stated that men have needs and it was his ex so it didn’t count. You stuffed the complimentary bread in your purse and took the nearly full bottle of wine off the table and walked away, no words needed. 

Peter watched you chug at the bottle, you wiped your mouth when you ripped it away. 

“Love is a lie, and it’s pointless in trying to believe in it.” 

“Hey now, love is very real, it's just hard for you to find it right now.” 

You searched for the bread basket and set it on the coffee table, you immediately ripped a piece apart and stuffed it in your mouth, “I’ll die alone with my bread and wine and I’ll probably have to start adopting cats now if I want to reach my one hundred goal when I’m sixty.” 

Peter shoulder checked you, “we could get a cat.” 

Your best friend is right, love isn’t a lie because you feel it with him. You don’t think a love with absolutely no conditions existed, and even though it’s a friendship it’s always felt a little deeper than that. Soulmates even, and you swear you’d find each other in any life or timeline. Sometimes you think about what it would be like if you had met under different circumstances, maybe if you met in college instead he’d be something more than a friend. 

It’s not like you were in love with Peter, but it’s a passing thought that circles from time to time. Sometimes you even wonder if he thinks the same, some nights you find yourself drunk and you look at Peter in a different light, and think of giving him a kiss, if it didn’t change everything that’d be fine, but at least you would know instead of always thinking of a ‘what if.’ 

You were best friends, always have been. At least since high school, it’s been six years. Now in your second year in college and closer than ever you think it wouldn’t be weird to kiss him, and that should be weird. But it wasn’t. 

“Do you ever think about kissing me?” 

Peter hitched his breath, “what?” There’s no way you said that to him of all people. 

“I dunno, I feel like that’s normal, right? I mean we're best friends of the opposite gender, don’t you ever think about the what if?” 

“What’s the what if?” 

You shrug, “if we met at a different time our relationship might be different.” 

He does. He thinks about it too, the first time was in high school and he buried it down. Sometimes it’s better to just think about it, he liked you too much and he wasn’t prepared to lose you as a friend, it was better he stayed quiet and protected what you had. But since college, it’s been a rampant thought. Some nights he’d catch himself holding you close and playing guard dog to any man that walks your way, sometimes he likes to pretend he’s your boyfriend, even if just for a night. 

Peter can’t admit that, he’d be a psycho. He has to play it cool. 

“Uh, yeah, I guess so. You mean if we’d be boyfriend girlfriend instead?” 

“Yeah.” 

You feel him looking at the side of your face but if you look at him you’ll feel hot. 

“Yeah. I do.” He nods, sure of his answer. 

Interest piqued, “which one?” Does he think about what it’d be like if you dated or kissed? 

While he thinks it would be fun to be your boyfriend, he can’t lie. 

“I think of kissing you a lot more.” 

That should be questionable on its own, but it’s not. You nod and accept the answer, you loop back around to your original thought. It would be weird for a second, but it would answer everything you wanted to know. 

You turn to face him, you sit up straighter and give him a smile when you feel nerves creeping up because it’s just Peter. 

“Do you want to kiss?” 

Peter feels his eyes widen, “right now?” 

“Yeah. We can give it a try.” 

He’s hesitant, sometimes wanting is better wanting. “Is that a good idea?” 

Peter watches you think it over, and it looks like you really are. Thoughts race through your mind and there's two thoughts, you love and trust Peter. Either you laugh it off or move forward as something else, you don’t think you could live without the answer. 

“Yes. Yes, I think we should kiss.” 

You’re sure of it, it takes Peter a second of lag time before he processes your words. His shoulders square and he twists so he’s facing you more on the couch, he clears his throat and leans in slightly. 

He’s hesitant, he’s not sure where to touch you or how to kiss you. He’s kissed people before, he has that part down, but how? Sensual, flirty, fun, innocent, platonically? 

Peter’s hand cups your face and his eye dart from your mouth to your eyes, you’re holding your breath with anticipation. He thinks he’s going to kiss you with the exact emotion he feels for you. Love. 

The moment you connect you melt, everything you wanted or needed amounted to this second and you can’t believe you waited so god damn long to ask Peter Parker to kiss you. His mouth lined up with yours, his bottom lip favoring your top, you weren’t sure how he was feeling but you can hope it's the same passion. 

You see colors behind your eyelids, you find yourself only locked in the bliss of your best friend's touch. 

Peter pulls away, he knows how he feels, everything he thought he knew about his feelings were amplified by a million. If you didn’t like it he doesn’t think he could go back to how it was. 

Breathless, he’s desperate for the answer. He wants to drink you back up. 

“Thoughts?” 

You nod your chin at him, “you first.” 

“I think I want to keep doing that and take you out to dinner to show you love is real, and it can be yours, if you’d like.” 

Your eyes sparkle, you pull him in by his shirt collar and mutter at him before locking your lips again. 

“I’d like. I’d like very much.” 

[harryistheonlyoneforme]

Could We Live With Just A Taste*

pairing: drug dealer(plug) harry x reader

warnings: drug use, intoxication, unprotected sex, oral (both receiving)

~

YESTERDAY

YN: What are you up to tomorrow night?

Harry: Nothing, why? That desperate for me already? I just had you crying on my cock yesterday😏

YN: Shut the fuck up, asshole. I have something I want us to try🙄

Harry: You’re no fun😐

YN: *sends a tiktok of vegan weed brownies*

Harry: Yeah, I’m down. I can buy all the ingredients and you can come over tomorrow night so we can bake them?

YN: That works

Harry: Liked “That works”

~

CURRENT DAY

Harry is currently at his local grocery store, glancing down at his phone as he scans the aisles for all of the ingredients he needs to execute the recipe that YN sent him yesterday.

He obviously has the CBD oil that’s needed for the brownies, but of course his home is not stocked with any of the other ingredients needed for it to work.

Before he left his house, he searched all of the cupboards for anything he could use in the recipe, and that was a reality check for him. He literally had no groceries, so he made a mental note to grab some along with whatever the recipe called for, as well as some things to cook and eat for a while. He also vowed to stop eating out as much, it’s truly a shame how much money he spends on delivery each week.

Once he has all of the ingredients and groceries in the basket, he makes his way to the front of the store, toward the shortest checkout line.

Just his luck, the shortest line is being worked by a woman about his age who has been ogling him and his tattoos since he walked in, but he’s completely uninterested.

She’s a gorgeous woman. Breathtaking, actually, but for some reason he doesn’t even look at her twice. He makes his way to the belt and places his items on, sliding toward the pay area as she scans them.

Her attention is mostly on him, not on the groceries, as she eyes his thick biceps and the tattoos that reside all over him. Once he’s directly in front of her, he notes that she bends forward a bit and pushes her shoulders together slightly to show off her cleavage, and both Harry and the bagger that looks to be a teenager roll their eyes at the futile attempt.

She goes to open her mouth, no doubt to flirt with him, but he speaks up before she can.

“I have a girlfriend,” he responds gruffly, sliding his card into the chip reader and ignoring the way her demeanour changed from flirty and bubbly to annoyed and rude.

He types his pin in and transaction is approved, and he chuckles to himself as she snatches the receipt from the machine and forcefully passes it to him, but he thanks her anyway and grabs his bags, heading out of the store and to his car.

He was lying, of course. YN isn’t his girlfriend, but she didn’t have to know that.

~

YN hums softly as she rinses the soap from her body and turns the faucet off, stepping out of the shower before wrapping her towel around her wet body.

She takes her time getting ready to leave, not wanting to leave too early and arrive before the time she and Harry agreed on. It takes her longer than normal to dry off and moisturize her skin, but once she’s done she has enough time to pick a comfy outfit

Her decided outfit is just some plain grey leggings with a black thong and a t-shirt that she’d stolen from Harry after she’d spent the night at his place, and she’d forgone a bra, as they always tug at her nipple piercings.

She’s barely able to contain her excitement as she sprays on some perfume, throwing on some shoes before grabbing her keys and phone to head out the door.

The bright sun in the sky makes her squint as she heads to her car, hopping in before exclaiming softly in pain as the seats and seatbelt buckle burn her skin.

She shakes it off and turns on the engine, letting the car get cool before she pulls out of the driveway and makes her way to Harry’s house.

On the way, she sees his favourite Chinese restaurant and decides to stop in to grab them some food, realizing just how hungry she was. It takes longer than she expected, but she’s honestly kind of happy for the delay, not wanting to arrive at his house on the dot.

~

A knock sounds on Harry’s door as he’s just sitting down and watching some TV, awaiting YN’s arrival. He hops off the couch almost too excitedly, opening the door to see YN smiling brightly at him and holding a paper bag to pass off to him.

She speaks up before he can, and he’s never been more glad for that, because he genuinely doesn’t think he can form words right now, and he’s just admiring how gorgeous she looks.

“I went and grabbed some Chinese on the way, I hope that’s okay?” she questions, and he just nods, still unable to form any words. She stands there awkwardly for a few seconds before she speaks up again. “Can I come in or…?” she trails off, chuckling as he snaps out of his trance.

“Oh, shit, yeah. Of course, sorry,” he tells her, moving out of the way so that she can enter. She heads straight for the couch as Harry closes the door before trailing behind her, mentally berating himself for being an actual idiot.

The two of them settle in on the couch before he passes her the remote to find something to watch, and he isn’t surprised at all when she chooses Jane the Virgin, the show they’d started binge watching together the last time she was over.

They dig into their food for a bit, but they get pretty full quickly, plus they want to save some room for the brownies. At some point during the episode, YN ended up cuddling with Harry, her body underneath his arm as she rests her head on his chest.

He doesn’t mind, of course, but it really is hard to focus on the show with how close she is to him. It’s like she can sense him staring at her, and she looks up with a small smile before sitting up slightly and pressing a kiss to his lips.

It surprises him, but he’s quick to snap back and leans down to kiss her again, deepening it slightly before biting down on her lip gently. That sends her over the edge, and she’s unable to keep her cool any longer, maneuvering her body and climbing onto his lap while their lips are still connected.

He groans into her mouth as she sits down right onto his erection, her warmth encapsulating his cock. He’s rock hard beneath her when she starts to grind against him slowly, providing pleasure to the both of them. The feeling makes him buck up into her as well, precum leaking from his cock and leaving a small spot on his pants.

Placing his hands onto her hips, Harry matches YN’s hips the speed of his own, working her on his lap through their clothes. It’s all so rushed and messy, but neither of them care, pleasure clouding their thoughts.

She groans into his mouth as he helps her along his erection, the friction from their thin clothes providing some much needed stimulation to her clit.

YN pulls away begrudgingly, trying her hardest to ignore the wetness that’s started to leak into her panties. Frowning, Harry tries to go in for another kiss and she grants him a peck before pulling away once more.

“Okay, okay. We’re never going to get to the brownies if we keep this up. Cmon, I’ll suck you off while they’re baking” she tells him, standing up and heading to the kitchen.

Harry’s never moved so quickly in his life, hopping off the couch clumsily, but he doesn’t follow her right away. He can’t help but stare at her ass in those tight leggings as she walks away, adjusting his pants a bit before following behind her.

Taking a look at all of the ingredients on the counter, YN pulls up the recipe and calls Harry over so they can get started, reading them aloud. The two of them move like a perfect pair as they mix all of the ingredients, and by the time they’re done the kitchen smells wonderful.

~

YN places the brownies into the heated oven as Harry cleans up the remaining clutter on the island, taking the oven mitts off and placing them on the counter. She leans back against the cool marble, just watching him move the things around before he’s making his way to her and trapping her in front of the counter, leaning down to press his lips to hers.

They kiss passionately before YN reaches down to the bulge in his pants, making him pull away with a groan. “If I remember correctly, I think you promised me something while the brownies are cooking,” he smirks, and she rolls her eyes playfully before dropping to her knees and tugging on his pants, right in front of the oven.

She spits in her hand a bit before stroking him slowly, his precum working as the perfect added lubricant. He moans softly as she does, but his breath gets caught in his throat as she leans forward, placing her lips on the head of him before taking him about halfway down.

The heat radiating off the oven is a nice touch, and she reminds herself to ask Harry to do something to keep her warm the next time she sucks him off.

It’s a gift, really, the way she can multitask this way; literally sucking a cock and thinking about other ways to keep warm the next time she does it.

Stroking what doesn’t fit into her mouth, she suckles on the head of him for a bit, dipping the tip of her tongue into his slit and humming at the bead of slightly salty precum that gets on her tongue.

“Shit, ‘s like you’ve been taking lessons on sucking cock. Your mouth is heaven,” he pants, thrusting shallowly into her mouth and throwing his head back when she gags on him slightly, closing around his sensitive head. “Ohhhh fuck I swear your mouth was made for me,” he whines, slamming his hand onto the island to stabilize himself, his knees buckling slightly.

She hums and chuckles around him at the reaction she’s getting, the vibrations sending shocks through Harry’s entire body. “Wait, shit. Do that again, ‘m close,” he warns her, choking on a moan when she does so immediately. It’s insane how quickly she can make him cum, no one has ever had this effect on him.

“Fuck me,” he sighs, shivering as a chill runs through his body. “I definitely need a break after that one, you just sucked the life out of me,” he tells her. squeezing his eyes shut as she tucks his sensitive cock back into his pants.

She laughs loudly at his words, and Harry has to squeeze his eyes shut as she tucks his sensitive cock back into his pants. They head to the couch and continue their show while the brownies cook, just as they did before.

~

When the brownies are done cooking, they let them cool for a bit before cutting them and eating them right over the pan, that’s how fucking delicious they are.

They eat two each before waiting a bit, watching some more TV as they wait for the effects to kick in. It doesn’t, though, and they’re confused when they feel as normal as ever.

With a disappointed sigh, YN speaks up. “Maybe we did something wrong, measured the oil wrong or something. I don’t feel anything,” she mumbles, snuggling into him on the couch.

“Yeah, we probably didn’t put enough, we can try again another time,” he encourages her, rubbing up and down her arm gently as he knows how excited she was for this to work.

She nods gently and lies her head on him, shifting her attention back to the TV as they continue watching their show, not feeling any different than they normally do.

~

By the time they’re about two more episodes in, they finally start to feel something. Their heads are floaty and their eyes are droopy, their bodies entirely relaxed.

YN is hyper aware of everything happening around her, all of Harry’s body heat, the fibres on the couch, and even the slight static that can be heard beneath the TV show, and it’s sending her mind into overdrive.

They’re high out of their fucking minds, and they’re realizing one brownie was probably enough to get them high. It’s too late now, though, and when Harry looks to YN lazily with those droopy eyes, she’s ready to jump his bones. She’s still soaked from the dry humping, and she can’t take this much longer.

“Do you wanna have sex?” she asks him bluntly, catching him by surprise. He’s speechless for a moment, but as his mind finally catches up, he sits up abruptly.

“Hell yes, cmon. Take your clothes off,” he tells her, making her giggle. She instantly obliges, standing up to take her leggings off and heading to his room, but he stops her and pulls her into his lap.

“No, need to see you get off right here,” he tells her, and she looks at him confusedly before he’s helping her out by moving her to straddle his thigh. “Y’gonna ride my thigh so I can see you fall apart before I actually get my hands on you,” he explains, the filthy words making her moan.

She immediately places her hands on his shoulders and moves her hips to test, a groan leaving her lips as the material of his pants creates the perfect amount of friction against her clit.

It’s way better than where they’d left off earlier, the removal of her panties and pants feeling absolutely life changing. To make the experience even more wonderful for her, Harry leans forward and takes one of her nipples into his mouth, sucking gently on the sensitive bud before pulling away breathlessly.

“Fuck, I’ve never seen anyone so beautiful” he whispers, keeping his eyes on her as he wraps his lips around her nipple once more, focusing on the reaction he gets from her.

He flicks his tongue around the silver barbell once more before catching it in between his teeth and pulling gently, prompting her to let out a guttural moan, the bite of the pain making her entire body tingle.

“Such a needy little thing, hm? Just so desperate for Daddy to take care of you?” he coos condescendingly, humming as she nods and quickens her pace, chasing her orgasm. She throws her head back slightly and her jaw drops as she starts to throb against the material, her orgasm so close she can practically taste it.

The filthy sight makes his cock twitch in his pants, and he can barely contain himself when she bites down onto his shoulder to conceal her loud moans as her orgasm takes over her, shooting through her body.

After giving her a moment to collect herself, he pulls her into his chest and stands from the couch on slightly shaky legs, wrapping hers around him as he carrie’s her up the stairs and to his bedroom skilfully, and neither of them know how he does so intoxicated.

Stepping into the room, he places her down on the centre before climbing on as well, lying on his stomach so that his face is right by her pussy.

“I really need to taste you,” he mumbles, wrapping his arms around her thighs before diving in immediately, no time wasted. Her back arches at the feeling of his tongue swiping between her swollen folds, her clit still sensitive from cumming on his thigh just moments ago.

“Shit!” she cries, reaching down to fist at his hair, tugging on his roots as he devours her, licking places she didn’t even know could feel pleasurable. She’s already close from all of the overstimulation, and when he shoves his tongue into her as far as it can go and his nose nudges her clit, she cums all over his mouth with a broken gasp, twitching and pulling away from the sensation.

Her chest is heaving as he sits up, his chin glistening with her orgasm as he climbs up and presses his lips to hers. She groans softly at the taste of herself on his mouth, reaching down to stroke his hard cock gently while their lips are still attached.

He’s definitely ready to go now, not as sensitive as he was when she sucked him off. Pulling away, he looks to her for permission. “Are y’ready for me or do you need a minute?” he questions, looking into her eyes for any sign of uncertainty.

She nods eagerly at his question, wrapping her legs around his waist in response. He immediately lines up with her sopping hole, angling his hips to slide into her. The feeling makes her gasp in shock, wrapping her arms around his shoulders so that she can bury her face into his neck.

The feeling of him stretching her over sensitive walls is like no other, and she wouldn’t trade this feeling for the world. She can feel each and every ridge and vein along his thick shaft, and his leaking head is nestled right against her g-spot.

All of these things have her bucking her hips in attempt to get him to move, desperate for another orgasm, this time on his cock. He obliges instantly, pulling out to thrust into the exact same spot once more. The fast pace he sets immediately has her seeing stars, the precise movements of his hips making her lose all sanity.

She’s already squirming and sobbing loudly in pleasure, trying to find some relief from his bruising thrusts, but he supplies her with none, knowing that if she truly needed to stop she’d let him know. They have safewords and signals for that exact reason. Not to mention the fact that he knows her body like the back of his hand by now, and he’s very certain of her limits.

“Wait- please, fuck!” she yells, her eyes rolling back as another inevitable orgasm builds, causing her to shake unceasingly, his thrusts unforgiving. “Can’t take it,” she whines,

“You can and you will, always do,” he coos. “I’ve got you, just cum for Daddy,” his soft words are grounding for her as his hips don’t falter, forcing her to take the pleasure. At that, she finally relaxes and lets her mind and body go, her orgasm hitting her so hard she chokes on her breath.

Harry leans down to press soothing kisses all over her neck and shoulders, keeping her close as he feels her start to squirt around him and soak his lower stomach. She’s shaking as she does, a loud wail falling from her dry throat.

It only prolongs her orgasm when he doesn’t stop thrusting deeply inside of her and by the time she’s finished squirting, wordless babbles are the only noises she can produce.

“Made such a mess for me, pet,” he rasps, sitting up and rubbing the evidence of her orgasm all over her thighs and making the mess bigger. “Gonna have to make you lick this up when we’re done,” he coos to her, making her eyes fly open at the meaning of his words.

That means they’re not done, and she groans at the thought of cumming again, but she wouldn’t ask him to stop even if the world depends on it. He truly fucks her so well.

Her over sensitive walls are fluttering around him as he adds some more depth to his thrusts, tears of pleasure falling from her eyes when he hits her g-spot. The pressure makes her eyes roll back, and Harry just has to say something about it.

“Such a dumb baby, look at you, all drunk on m’cock,” he teases condescendingly, bringing a hand up to her jaw and placing his thumb on her bottom lip to force her mouth open.

The moment it’s wide enough for him, he leans over and spits into her open mouth before tapping her gently, a silent command to swallow it. She does immediately, desperate to obey even when she struggles to do so. Her face scrunches slightly as he gives her a particularly deep thrust, grazing her cervix and creating the most delicious bite of pain.

“Y’always look so pretty when I’m fucking you, ‘s not like anything I’ve ever seen,” he praises, feeling his cock twitch inside of her in warning of his impending orgasm. “Bet you can feel me deep in y’tummy, hm?” he questions, and all she can do is nod at his words, starting to shake in his tight hold once again.

He doesn’t let up at all and she’s cumming again seconds later, locking down on him and creaming so much that it leaves a thick layer of her cum on the base of him.

He manages to hold off his orgasm until she comes down, and the second he feels her relax around him again he quickly pulls out and stands up shakily on the bed, YN sitting up onto her knees.

She looks directly into his eyes and sticks her tongue out as he quickly strokes his cock in front of her face, his face scrunching up in pleasure as his balls draw up. The icing on the cake was when she grabbed her tits, one in each hand, and plays with her nipple rings a bit, the contrast from the innocent eyes to the filthy action sending Harry over the edge.

His legs are shaky as he tries to stay upright, grunts and groans leaving his lips as he releases his load all over her tongue, but some gets on her face and even on her tits, making her look even filthier.

His chest is heaving and he’s breathing heavily by the time he’s all done, just eyeing the way she looks absolutely

“You never did have the best aim,” she teases, looking down at the mess on her chest before looking into his eyes innocently. “Now what should I do about this mess?” she questions in faux exasperation, before gasping as it she’s come up with an idea.

Harry’s eyes darken once more, his sensitive cock twitching as he watches her reach up to swipe her index finger through his mess, gathering some on the tip before slowly bringing it up to her mouth. Opening her mouth, she places the finger on her tongue before closing her lips around it and sucking, humming at the taste.

“Ass up, I’m not done with you yet,” he grits, gripping her arm tightly enough for him to manhandle her into the position he requested, stifling a groan as she arches perfectly for him, her swollen, messy cunt on display.

She’s so open for him, and he wastes no time in stroking his semi hard cock to get fully erect, lining up before sliding into her with a single, hard thrust. He starts a fast pace immediately, gripping her hips to pull her back and meet his thrusts.

The sound of her cries below him only spur him on, but she’s not loud enough for him. Not by a long shot. He needs to know that he is absolutely wrecking her. Lifting one hand from her hip, he lands it back down onto her ass cheek roughly, satisfied as her cries get louder.

He repeats the action on the other cheek, then again to the other and he keeps spanking her until he’s satisfied, knowing there’s a sharp sting beneath the soft skin and that she’ll be sore tomorrow.

Looking down to where they’re connected, he’s mesmerized by the way her ass jiggles against the skin of his thighs with each bruising thrust, and the filthy, squelching sound of their skin colliding only adds to his awe.

She’s leaking so much around him that every time he pulls away, he can see a thick string of her arousal connecting them, making his mind spin even more. The sight, the sound, and the feeling all overload his senses as his orgasm nears, his stomach clenching in warning.

“Baby,” he babbles, his hips still pounding against hers. “Gonna cum, please let me cum in you,” he begs, trying his hardest to hold off his orgasm until he gets an answer. He takes the opportunity to make her cum even faster, licking his right thumb before pressing it to her asshole, forcing his way past the tight ring of muscles.

Turning her head, she looks back at him with the filthiest, most fucked out face he’s ever seen. She’s literally so full that she feels she could explode, but she’s determined to keep it together until he fills her with his cum. “Yeah, yeah. Please, fill me up. Need it so bad, gonna cum too,” she cries, burying her face back into the duvet as he doubles his efforts, it seems like.

His brutal thrusts send the both of them over the edge with loud yells, her cunt squeezing him so tightly and milking him as he floods her, stuffing her full. He pulls out when there’s absolutely no more room for him, letting some of his cum leak out before helping her move onto her back.

He takes some time to admire how absolutely fucked out she looks, dried cum all over her and messy hair, her chest heaving as she pants. Her legs are spread enough that he can see his cum starting to leak from her abused hole, and he knows he has to document this.

Reaching over to his bedside table, he grabs his phone and asks her permission, which is granted, to take a picture of her like this. His camera clicks loudly in the quiet room as he takes a few of them, surveying how provocative she looks like this.

She’s still catching her breath for a few minutes, her body limp as she comes back down to Earth. The entire time, Harry is beside her, rubbing her arms and cooing softly to her to let her know that he’s there. When she’s finally back, he smiles softly at her before brushing some hair from her face.

“Bath or shower?” he questions, gently running his thumb over one of the bruises he’d left on her neck. Humming thoughtfully, she takes in how tired she is now and realizes she won’t be able to withstand a bath tonight.

“Shower tonight, and then we can take a bath in the morning to soothe our muscles?” she suggests, and he nods softly, leaning down to press a chaste kiss to her lips.

“Yeah, that’s fine. You need help getting up?” he questions concernedly, his mind spinning as he realizes he might’ve gone too hard.

An adorable chuckle snaps him out of his thoughts, and he looks down to see YN smiling up at him before climbing out the bed, heading to his bathroom.

He just shakes his head fondly and follows behind her to the bathroom, stopping and leaning against the doorframe as she turns on the hot water and lets it heat up before stepping in, immediately placing herself under the water.

She just relishes in the warmth for a bit, forgetting she isn’t alone until she sees Harry from the corner of her eye, a soft smile on her face as she looks to him.

“Are you going to stand there like a creep the whole time or are you going to join me?” she chuckles, grabbing his soap and starting to lather it on her body.

Standing up from the frame, the smirk never leaves his face as he steps in as well, wrapping his arms around her and pulling her close before pressing his lips to hers. He pulls away with a smile on his face, the same one on hers.

“Be my girlfriend,” he whispers, making YN’s jaw drop.

“What?”

~

[astronicht]

viking au, max/daniel f1🫶

Hopefully you came into this anticipating the wall of text 💜

1. The summer that Max was ten years old, the raids went far to the south, through the Pillars of Hercules and into the Mediterranean— because this literally happened like Vikings in fact did this. Theoretically Vikings could have seen Monaco! Anyway. This was memorable not because it was his first season — it was his second, he started a little young — but because it was the first time he stole something for himself on a raid. So, Max saw the coast from Narbonne and Pisa. And Max stole two cats on a raid of a town whose name he did not know, but where people died fast enough that a boy could dodge into a house with searching hands.

Back home, people sometimes laugh and ask if he saved his spoiled cats from the pelt-sellers, who raise cats for their fur (sorry i know i wanted sexy viking “i stole my dutch wife” stuff and instead i give u this canonical Viking-era Danish practice SORRY). He always corrects this: “no, I went out viking and i stole them.” People usually think this is a joke. Their names are Jamti and Saxi, because of course Max does not know their original names. (these are both boy names but whatever, his cats are named after Monaco clubs, what do you want me to do about it).

2. Daniel’s folks are from Sicily and Calabria; let’s put him in Calabria, which is partly Byzantine Greek ruled by Constantinople and partly Arab; he would call himself Roman (meaning Byzantium, the Eastern Empire) and speaks Greek, probably, with a smattering of Arabic that is mostly slang. He is weirdly bad at it. (Sicily was entirely Berber Muslim at this point with a large Byzantine Greek population, by the by, and would later be conquered by the descendants of the Vikings, so I guess that’s a whole different AU). Daniel, for his part, was not stolen from his home; his father was not killed, his mother and sister are presumably well. It is simply that he could not sit quietly in a warm place that would have loved him fine. Oops!

3. They meet for real in the town of Jorvik, which is a river city in what will later be England. Christian warned Daniel ahead of time that they were taking on a new kid, implied that there was a favor owed. Daniel’s met the father, and like, fair enough. Pay Jos back for whatever and steer clear, in Daniel’s opinion, and Daniel and Christian usually agree. Max arrives with a set face and carrying his cats — who are 16% smaller than modern cats but still fucking heavy and sliding around unhappily — in a wicker basket that he carries up the hill from the river himself, his doeskin boots sliding in the muck. A few of the guys tell Max he can get mousers here, why carry these? Daniel, who had been in the city for three years now, tells him he should have taken the old Roman stone road. Max is unamused, but at least Daniel was (unwittingly) the helpful one. They are overwintering together in a house down by the other river. Max is seventeen.

3.a Christian’s debt owed was to Max’s mum. Daniel doesn’t know this.

4. Daniel does otherwise know a lot about Christian, because he helped the ironically named Christian Hornbære (also written as Hyrne), once a minor Northumbrian thane, to throw his lot in with the Danes (vikings), take a Dane wife, turn on his compatriots, and sack the place. Christian has remembered this loyalty ever since. This will come up later!

5. Okay since everyone has been patient i WILL play up one sexy (?) viking trope and like. At some point it’s spring and just prior to the beginning of raiding season and the first early little harvest has come in so Christian is hosting a feast before they all go off to do some genuinely heinous shit, and the expectation is absolutely that Christian’s boys get to fuck in this semi-public way in the longhouse. And Max and Daniel are two of the stars of the show, right, so it’s a sort of champagne room situation, only it becomes increasingly clear to Daniel, who is btw barely holding everything together, that Max is absolutely relying on him to get through this. Like everyone in this long dark room has been drinking for two days and Max is watching Daniel to see what he’s going to do, and Daniel is terrified to realize Max watching is the only reason he’s getting hard, etc. They fuck women side by side. It’s a mess! They get off, by which i mean daniel watches Max get off and then fakes his but watching max was the best part. After a bit Daniel goes outside bc he thinks he’s going to be sick but he’s not and he just sits on the new wet grass. Max comes out looking for him and somehow they end up just like. sitting in the wet grass and Max lets Daniel hold him and it’s the only thing that calms Daniel down that entire year, it feels like.

6. The emotional narrative here is like. The inherent tragedy of wanting to be the best, wanting to be beloved, wanting a crowd to know your name, and the outlet available to you is a small, brutal, violent activity. Not because there is absolutely no other option— the Viking Diaspora is one of the widest worlds to have existed; there was a rigid social structure, but one with lots of little odd corners and loopholes. But the tragedy comes in any time and place when no one thinks to tell you this. Max’s cats — stolen from the dead, but themselves simply just cats, just little animals that kill birds for food or to show you love — are kind of the nexus of this, somehow. No idea how I would resolve it, frankly, which is partly because i have to write things to know what they’re gonna say!

Further notes: in this verse Alex Albon’s granddad somehow got caught up in the Battle of Talas, probably on the side of the Tibetan Empire and the Caliphate but who knows, politics are big complicated. Like many Talas veterans’ families he lives in Baghdad right now with his mum and his siblings and he’s often very tired. Look if a Tang Chinese general could get lost in Ethiopia for a bit after the Battle of Talas then Alex Albon could be doomed to watch a really weird viking funeral on the banks of the Caspian during a trade mission to meet up with his father. Shit happens to him. Why is that nude viking man holding a torch and covering his anus?? We will never know bc Alex + Ibn Fadlan’s translator wisely chose not to show up that day. Alternatively Alex IS Ibn Fadlan’s translator, which explains why he is very tired.

what the fuck is this one! thanks for playing. i spent two hours researching domestic housecat dispersal theories.

[imtrashraccoon]

The first writing request is from my friend @g0nefischin . They wanted to see Papyrus doing something normal and so this is what I came up with!

The Shopping List

Classic!Papyrus & Gender Neutral Reader

Word Count: 2,366

With a heavy sigh, you shut your locker and locked it with the combination lock. It was time to face whatever the day brought your way. Squaring your shoulders, you zipped up your uniform vest and began the trudge onto the sales floor.

You worked at a large chain department store and it had been the only job you could seem to land after trying for months. Nowhere you applied at seemed to be hiring, despite having ads for various positions up for ages. Maybe they just weren't looking to hire someone like you though.

To say that you hated your job was an understatement. Not only were the hours long, but also, your shifts were very rarely at the same time each week. This left you with very little free time and you were often too tired to do anything besides look after yourself when you got home from work. You weren't paid nearly enough either and money was almost always tight each month when it came time to pay rent.

You were literally working yourself into an early grave just to survive.

Curse the Wolton family.

Despite your hangups over certain aspects of Capitalism and Corporations, you still had a job to do. It wouldn't do to lose that job just because you didn't want to work. No, you dreamed of going out in a blaze of glory if that day ever came.

Today, you decided to just put your head down and get through your shift, like you nearly always did. The first hour was pretty dull, although you began to hear whispers from your coworkers of a strange person in the store. You didn't care to make conversation and this really wasn't an uncommon occurrence. At this point, you'd seen so many weird people at ungodly hours, that you didn't think anything could freak you out anymore.

Wasn't there a forum for that called r/peopleofwolmart? You'd glanced at it a few times in the past but it just made you lose more of what little faith you still had in humanity. Maybe you'd eventually have your own story to tell on there one day though.

You didn't have to wait long to see who they had been murmuring about.

He was easily the tallest person you'd ever seen in person, maybe close to seven feet tall, and for a moment you wondered if he played any basketball at all. He certainly had the height to do so, but at the same time, he wasn't what you thought of when you heard the word basketball. But what did you know? You only had a passing knowledge of the sport in the first place.

The thing is, his height wasn't the only thing out of the ordinary about him. He was wearing bold, almost blindingly bright clothing and...he was a skeleton.

An entire civilization had been trapped underneath the nearby mountain that this city was named for and only recently had they been granted full citizenship by the local government. Most had moved into an older part of the city by now so it wasn't unusual to see them out and about. You were still to meet one though and you guessed most of your coworkers were in the same boat.

The tall skeleton had on a bright pink tank top with a logo you didn't recognize, a pair of fuzzy red mittens, multicolored shorts that could probably pass for swim trunks, an orange jacket tied around his pelvis, and a pair of tall bright red boots that kind of reminded you of those chunky ones that goth teens seemed to like. The guy looked like he'd stepped out of a colouring book and part of you had to admire the sheer confidence he had to leave the house wearing all that. You could never even dream of doing the same.

He had a shopping basket over one arm with a few groceries already inside and what looked like a shopping list that he was currently scrutinizing.

While he was certainly interesting, you didn't want to be caught staring as he was clearly just going about his day. It wasn't like he was bothering anyone or making a mess that you'd have to clean up. Definitely not something worthy of posting online for everyone to see.

So you went to go restock one of your aisles. It was a good thing one of the managers wasn't around or you might have gotten reprimanded for not approaching him. Screw that noise, he looked like he was doing fine. If he needed help, he'd ask, right?

It wasn't like you were purposely ignoring him either. You hated approaching people out of nowhere and striking up a conversation. So unless it was absolutely necessary, you tried your best to avoid people, even outside of work.

You couldn't help but feel a bit curious about the skeleton though.

You were in the middle of facing and restocking the canned food aisle when you heard someone approaching you. Glancing over, you made eye contact with the tall skeleton from earlier. He didn't seem to have picked up any other items and the way he was scanning the shelves before looking back at his list made you realize he probably could use some help.

Taking a deep breath, you decided that, yeah, you could help this guy. He seemed nice enough and it might be interesting to talk with a Monster.

"Are you having trouble finding something?" you asked.

He seemed a bit startled at first even though your voice hadn't been very loud. Although, he recovered quickly and the corners of his permanent grin quirked up a little. He must've been focusing pretty hard.

"Yes, Actually! I Cannot Seem To Find The Tomato Paste, Although I Am Certain It Should Be In This Aisle."

His tone of voice was louder than you'd been expecting and while you didn't have a headache yet this morning, your sinuses felt a little sensitive just listening to this guy. Maybe he was one of those freaks of nature who could get up with the sun and have energy from the get go? You'd never understand what that was like as long as you lived, in part due to your poor sleep schedule.

You scanned the bay with the various canned tomato products. You'd never understand why there were so many different ways to process the fruit as it would all get cooked down eventually, right?

"Oh, here it is." You pointed at the cans that were located one shelf up from the floor. With his height, no wonder he was having a hard time finding them!

The skeleton's cheerful expression somehow grew even brighter. "Stars, Of Course They Were Right Under My Nose The Whole Time! Thank You, Human!"

You elected not to point out that he didn't even have a nose and instead handed him the cans that he needed since you were right next to them. He stowed them away in his basket and you were about to walk away, when you noticed his smile fell as he glanced back at his grocery list.

Seeing that, you couldn't help but feel a little bad. He'd been so nice during your brief interaction and he probably wasn't familiar with the layout of this store at all. While you couldn't be sure, population wise, there were a lot less Monsters than Humans and they likely didn't have massive stores like what was commonplace up here.

"Was there anything else you needed?" you probed gently.

The skeleton worried at the fingers of his mittens and if he had lips, he would probably be biting his lower one. "I Do Not Want To Be A Bother... You And Your Colleagues Seemed So Busy..." His tone of voice was considerably quieter now, making him sound rather unsure of himself.

You gave him a small smile and shook your head. "It's fine really. I can probably at least point you in the right direction if anything."

He let you see his shopping list and you had to suppress a chuckle at the big, bold lettering that was his handwriting. It suited his personality in your opinion and was kind of cute. Most of the items on the list were located in the grocery section, but there were a few that you knew weren't, such as glitter or a blowtorch. Still, you tried to help him to the best of your ability.

He was apparently quite chatty, which you would normally find a little awkward as you disliked it when strangers tried to engage in conversation with you. It was different with him though. He was very passionate about everything and talking with him almost felt like catching up with an old friend.

He told you how beautiful the surface was, not that the Underground wasn't, but he couldn't emphasize enough how amazing it was to look up only to be met with a near endless sky. He hadn't been outside of Ebbot City yet because traveling was still difficult, but he wanted to go see the ocean one day, among many other places.

He told you about a few of his friends, such as Undyne, who you remembered was the former Captain of the Royal Guard. You'd seen her in passing from various press conferences the King and Queen of Monsters had held. According to the tall skeleton, she was every bit as powerful as she looked and then some. She'd also been the one to teach him how to cook and it had become a passionate hobby of his ever since.

That was why he was shopping today. He was excited to try his hand at the Human method of cooking, whatever that meant, and needed to get specific ingredients for the recipe he was planning to make. When you asked what the differences between Human and Monster cuisine was, he told you that there was basically none. The ingredients were essentially the same, although there were a lot of things Monsters didn't have access to in the Underground. There was one difference though that while seemingly inconsequential, made a world of difference for certain subspecies of Monsters, including himself.

Monster food had magic in it.

Whether it was in the individual components or added during the cooking process, the result was the same. The reason why was because Monsters were almost entirely made of magic and many subspecies didn't have the biology to digest food the way Humans did. Magic made the food easily absorbable so that all Monsters could benefit from the nutritional value of it.

He also told you about his brother, or rather, he complained about him. His brother was quite literally a lazy bones, something you couldn't help chuckling over, and couldn't be bothered to get up early to join him for shopping this morning. Apparently, he also told the most low effort jokes imaginable and tended to spend most of his time slacking off rather than working.

Still, it quickly became apparent how concerned your new tall friend was about his brother's wellbeing, despite how much he had complained about his habits. You wished you had that sort of relationship with your own siblings, but at this point, you doubted that would change.

After successfully, helping him locate nearly everything else on his list, the tall skeleton abruptly turned to you and clasped his mittened hands together in front of his ribcage.

"Thank You So Much For Your Help Today! I Had Tried To Ask A Few Other Associates Before You, But None Of Them Seemed Like They Wanted To..." His smile fell slightly as he trailed off and you felt a pang of guilt at the realization that more than likely they hadn't wanted to help a Monster like him.

He brightened up just as quickly and flashed you a winning smile. "But, I Am Glad You Helped Me! So, Thank You...!" Your heart nearly skipped a beat when he said your name and for a moment you questioned if you'd ever introduced yourself.

You must've looked shocked as well because he was quick to reassure you. "Sorry, I Knew Your Name From Reading Your Name Tag Earlier," he commented.

You couldn't help but feel a little silly. Of course he had noticed that. You'd actually forgotten you were wearing one, despite seeing it every time you put your vest on before your shift started.

"Oh! No it's okay, it just caught me off guard for a second there." You chuckled and rubbed the back of your neck, feeling a bit embarrassed as well. "What's your name? If you don't mind me asking anyways...?"

He grinned and puffed out his ribcage a little. You swear he would've struck a pose like some sort of action hero too, if he wasn't currently holding onto a full basket of groceries.

"I Am The Great Papyrus! It Is Wonderful To Make Your Acquaintance, Human!" he exclaimed in that same cheerful tone from earlier.

You couldn't help but smile at his enthusiasm. "Yeah, it's good to meet you too. I can't say I had expected to actually enjoy helping a customer today, but I did."

He let out a laugh that sounded almost exactly like, "Nyehehehe!" You chuckled as well, although a lot quieter than the boisterous skeleton.

He turned to head to the check out but stopped and looked back to you. "Do You Mind If I Stop By To Say Hi If You Are Working When I Come Shopping Next Time?" he asked.

"Sure thing! I'll gladly help you find things again or just have a small chat. I hope you have a good rest of your day, Papyrus!"

He gave a little wave and smiled brightly at you. "Good Bye!" he called out your name once more and then he was gone.

You felt like you were buzzing from sheer joy as a result of the brief time you'd spent with him. You couldn't remember ever having such a pleasant interaction with a customer before today, let alone with a Human one. Were all Monsters this friendly?

You really hoped you'd see him again...

[gamertales]

Gotham, July 30th, 2024.

Hey, over here. Youre that blogger lady, right? Looking for info on the supposed ring of collectors of objects belonging to the Bat clan? We talked...well texted a bunch recently about the market.

Hah. Well i cant speak to this supposed ring, but i can show you my own personal collection. Sure its secured, i get a lot of people sniffing around so i try to keep it locked up, but im not stupid. No point tryin to hide from the Bats or what have you, this is just for the schmucks and their bosses. Hah.

Alright, if you follow me into my van.

Oh, yeah, i get that a lot. But look, im 52, i havent got the energy to flirt with 40 year old tired house moms. Kidnapping sounds like a lot of work.

Bit of a shocker compared to the outside, huh? Yeah, I had the interior and body upgraded a few years ago, added comfort and protection,still kept the rough looking exterior tho, keeps attention down.

Yep. Glass repair, window replacement, skylights. Heh. Youd be surprised to know how many small contractors making a living cleaning up qfter the Bat clan. Lotta companies downtown cant get insurance for windows, doors, ventilation systems. Gives us smaller guys a little more space to play.

After that throw down between Nightwing and Riddlers goons across from the Bank of Gotham last week, i managed to get in quick, and lock down the window contract.

This parts important, first crew on the scene gets to move in after the cops move out. Now Gothams finest do their best, but the number of small things they miss...

Take this for example, its a section of Nightwings glove with those fancy little spike things on them. Found it in the rubble under the skylight. Along with some mooks hand. Turned the hand in of course.

What? Oh its an informal alliance, but we keep each other in the loop, and let each other know when shits going down near em. If I cant make it across town, i'll send a text to the crews closest.

The goggles? Harley quinn dropped them a couple years ago, found them in the bushes outside the Exchange. Thats not the prize piece.

This. Two Batarangs from the Bat himself. To be fair i didnt really have to go far to find them. Summer of '19 the big guy landed on my roof. Hard. Dropped, rolled, and started running down the alleyway. Now i was dozing at the time, and that startled the literal shit out me. Cue the clown goons jumping on my truck to give chase. Big threw four of these beauties, making them scatter, and doing more damage to the van.

Four batarangs tho? I sold 2 of them to my buyer in the city. A collector of this stuff. He calls it "pretentious peacocking for poorly adjusted prats." Yeah, Mr Wayne is different enough. Only met him the one time, but he was very affable, even hired me to do the new windows for his guest house.

Made enough to upgrade ole Greaser here to their current condition. And a little.

Other than Mr Wayne? Im afraid i only deal with Mr Wayne; he pays fair, promptly, and usually sends a gift basket. No, i go thru his Butler now.

Right? A Butler. In 2024. Still, he seems harmless enough, spends all his time at charities i hear.

The Ring again? Look, im serious i have nothing to do with that side of the market.

...if you are really determined tho, contact Marc Belvedere, if anyone i know knows about this, itll be Marc.

Listen, i have toinstall some skylights at the City Hall in an hour, so i gotta get moving. Yeah, tell your friends Karl Aleksev is The Window guy when in a pinch.

By the way, what was your name again? Barbara Gordon? Like the Gordon Gordon? Your his daughter? Well, good luck, and be careful, theres a lot of money in this business, and money gets people killed.

Yeah. I guess you didnt really need that advice, huh.

Maybe we will cross paths again.