#I didn’t need to pay someone to do that

[crazyvik97rpg]

The night wasn’t completely over yet once William was gone at least. Aside from chatting with his new neighbour, Sebastian also facetimed with his boyfriend a little more once he was home, showed him all the cats again, chatted a bit longer. It’s been an incredibly long day for William and yet he only hung up once he was home himself, ready to just fall from the shower straight into bed. Sebastian definitely felt better tonight, despite the additional pain – he slept better, didn’t have any nightmares.

While William took his much needed shower, he got a surprise text from someone – apart from Isa asking how he is doing, Othello texted him.

‚Hey, I wanted to ask which room Sebastian’s in and if he’s still in hospital? I couldn’t with Isa but I wanted to pay him a visit either way :)‘

In the morning Sebastian even felt somewhat well rested – even got some porridge with fruit for breakfast and not boring juice and fruit purree. God, had he missed solid food. His stomach was only recovering slowly but it was already much better than yesterday.

On this fine Friday morning, Sebastian also chatted some more with his bed buddy. He learned that the man was close to 70 years old, retired military man and former lieutenant at the royal marines. That in itself already sounded pretty insane and Sebastian learned a lot about his many adventures out on the sea. It was so completely different to his own life. He and Mr Shaw, as he got to learn his name, were both pretty chatty, which was fortunate. Mr Shaw liked Sebastian’s tattoos and hair, mentioned how they all had to shave their heads the moment they started their training as young rookies. Sebastian liked listening to him – a friendly though odd fellow, heh, just like he was.

Later before noon Dr Cole came around again to check on them. When she came to Sebastian to ask him about how he was feeling, Sebastian of course asked when he would get discharged. Unfortunately Dr Cole confirmed, what he had feared – he would only be able to go home by Monday morning, as she didn’t have weekend shifts this week and she was the one to sign all the documents – so that would all happen on Monday. Sebastian hoped in the morning.

At school, meanwhile, everything was much as always. Sebastian’s students were somewhat glad that his classes were just…substituted by another teacher, they could do their homework, basically had an hour to do whatever they wanted. Teachers too assumed Sebastian simply was sick for a few days – nobody really realized that his sick leave would go on some more weeks.

Their friend group was of course prepared today – Ronald had brought flowers, Alan and Eric had been in charge of sweets. After school, they would stop by Sebastian‘s place to feed the kitties, then they would all go visit him together.

For I have sinned...

The principal cleared his throat, eyes scanning the notes that he had wrote down before this meeting. It already lasted an hour, and the teachers gathered in the faculty room were becoming restless and bored. But indeed there were some things to discuss, with the concert that the senior class was supposed to perform at the end of the semester, and with recent staff changes. 

William glanced down at his watch, sighing softly. His class was starting in 15 minutes, so at least, whether the meeting will be done soon or not, he will get to excuse himself. He looked out of the window, his mind wandering. Principal’s voice turned into white noise in the background. It was a pleasant day, late summer. But William was looking forward to a slightly cooler weather. Wearing all black could really be bothersome at times. 

“And lastly, I am pleased to announce that we have finally found replacement for the violin teacher. Dear Mr Tanaka, may he rest in peace, was with us for so many years that I’ve been concerned we won’t be able to find someone as good as to fill this position.” the principal spoke. “But Mr… Michaelis, was highly recommended to me, and he indeed has impressive references. He will be starting this week, so please welcome him warmly once he will arrive. Ah yes… about that. He will arrive today at noon, I need someone to pick him up from the train station and bring over for the tour around the school. Any volunteers?” 

William was barely listening, and definitely not paying much attention. He glanced at his watch again, and saw that it was time to leave, as his class was about to start. He raised his hand to excuse himself, and little did he know, he just volunteered.

“Father William! Excellent!” the principal exclaimed. “Just don’t be late, the train arrives at noon.”

“Train…?” William questioned, raising his brow. He had a feeling he was missing something…

***

Right after the meeting, William had to run for the class, so he had little time to clarify what exactly he had volunteered for. He was a piano teacher in this Music Academy, but also he served as a priest in local church. Well respected, and rather liked. So when he later found out it was about the new violin teacher, he didn’t refuse. Who, other than himself, would be a better choice to introduce a newcome to their community?

So even though he raised his hand by accident, he accepted this fate.

After classes, at noon, William took a taxi and drove to the train station, to pick up their new teacher. Wearing black trousers, and a black shirt with a thin tie, was absolutely dreadful in this weather, so William quickly found shelter under the roof of the station platform, that provided some shade.

The train had just arrived. William had no idea how Mr Michaelis looked like, but he figured he will just look for someone carrying a violin case with them. 

He was in for a bit surprise.

@crazyvik97

[kimuzostar]

YOU CAN'T HIDE ii

⊱ bountyhunter!terry x black fem reader ⊰ ⊱ warnings: 18+, smut, degradation kink, pregnancy scare, mention of clinic visit, slight choking, stalking aspects, slight dom!terry and more i forgot ⊰ ⊱ probably the last part for this, i don't know... writing smut scares me because i'm bad at it ⊰ enjoy

A few weeks have passed of you being on the run. The media coverage of the robbery had died down; yet you were still on edge. 

Not about the robbery but about him.

“When I catch you again, I won’t be as nice.”

 His words replayed over and over in your head. You felt them deep in your stomach, just like his di-

No, no, no. You will not allow a man to be the proprietor of your downfall. 

After he left, you gathered your things and immediately headed for the nearest bus station. You brought a ticket to Arondale, another small town about four hours away. You needed to put distance between the two of you. 

As you boarded the bus, you had an eerie feeling of being watched. You turn and see a truck. His truck. 

Its lights cut on and it rapidly sped off in the opposite direction. 

You let out a sigh of relief. 

Now you could live in peace….. or so you thought. 

You were currently bent over the toilet of your dingy motel room. The entire contents of your stomach emptied out before you. 

For the last 5 or so days, you’ve been unable to hold down any food, certain smells cause you to gag, and you’ve been over emotional about every little thing. 

The tenant next door was not being of any help as he didn’t seem to know how to lower his volume. Constantly playing loud music and talking loudly. Every time you went to complain, he would get quiet and not answer his door. 

The one time you did see him, his back was turned to you as he got in his car. You wish you would’ve saw his face so you could flip it off. 

You were trying not to think the worst, brushing it off to a persistent stomach bug. But your period was late and that wasn’t making anything more comforting. 

“There’s no fucking way!”, you whisper to yourself. 

There’s no way you could possibly be pregnant by a man you don’t even know. A man whose face you’ve never even seen. You didn’t need any of this right now. 

Gathering yourself, you pull up to look in the mirror. Your curly hair wild, eyes shadowed with bags and your plump lips were chapped. You were a mess. 

You needed a pregnancy test. There was a small market across the street. You gathered your jacket and headed out. 

-

The market was stocked; having every essential one might need. 

You grabbed a buggy. You were going to get everything you needed so if you get the worst, you wouldn’t have to come out for a while. 

As you turn down one of the aisles, you bump into someone. 

“Oh, I’m sorry, I didn’t see you,” you say. 

Looking up, you see it’s your loud next door tenant. He’s wearing shades with the biggest shit eating grin on his face. A perfect set of 32s. 

“That’s no bother, just don’t do it again,” he replies. 

Already aggravated, you didn’t have the energy to play into his games. You continue along the aisle, paying him no more attention. 

Scanning the items, you finally find what you’re looking for; a clear blue pregnancy test. You grab it, biting your lower lip out of nervousness. 

Taking a step backwards, you run into what feels like a brick wall. A pair of arms surround you, the hands covering yours over the test. They lift them so the owner can take a closer look. 

“A pregnancy test. Who dis fa?”, the person says. 

You push back, turning to see who it is. 

It’s the tenant again. 

“Don’t fucking touch me and it’s none of your fucking business.”

He laughs, taking off his shades to get a better look at you. 

“I think it’s a lot of my business considering I could be a daddy.”  

Fuck, those eyes. 

It was him. The bounty hunter. 

Terry stood before you, smiling so big that his eyes disappeared. His hair was cut low, his skin bronzed by the sun. 

He was beautiful. 

You were frozen, unable to properly process what was going on. You wanted to run but your body wouldn’t move. You have many questions but your mouth wouldn’t move. 

“You look surprised. What’s wrong?”, he says jokingly. 

You finally get the push to speak. 

“You’re not the only person I’ve been with so you’re probably not the father”, you lie. 

Terry raises one of his eyebrows. “Is that so?”, he says. 

“Yes, so you can go away now”, you reply. 

“Nah, I’m curious about the results. Let's get back to your room”, he says walking towards the registers.

Your shoulders sunk. There was no way of this. 

-

Terry watched every step of you take your test; standing in the bathroom doorway like a bouncer. 

You avoided eye contact, feeling vulnerable about the current situation. 

“What does it say?”, he asks. 

“I don’t know, the instructions say there’s a 20 minute wait,” you reply. 

He sighs, looking up at the ceiling in thought. 

“What should we name it? I’m thinking Junior for a boy and Jasmi for a girl”, he says, smiling. 

You scoff. 

“You have lost your black ass mind if you think I’m having a baby with you. Plus, you don’t even know if this is your baby. The only thing I’m worried about is what clinic I need to go to”, you say. 

You peek at him through your lashes. He stood arms crossed, no longer smiling. You could cut the tension with a knife. 

“I’ve been watching you for weeks. There is no other man”, he says. 

“How did you find me? I left Springville weeks ago, it should’ve been impossible for you to find me here.”

Terry smiles, a laugh erupting deep from within his chest. 

“I never stopped following you, you’re just too fucking stupid to realize it. I followed your bus all the way here. I’ve been staying next door the whole time.”, he chuckles. 

You stood there dumbfounded. The clogs in your brain jammed and you were unable to produce a coherent thought. 

The loud music, the loud talking, the man entering the car. All him. 

“Are you actually insane? Do you not hear how ridiculous you sound? What’s not clicking?”, you say. 

Terry’s brows furrowed in genuine confusion. 

“Why are you so mad? I never told you I was going to leave you alone. I said when I catch you, not if I catch. You’re my problem until I feel you’re sorted out,” he says. “You were warned yet you still can’t hide.”

He stepped towards you. You step back and he follows you until you hit the wall. He leans down, his lips brushing your ear. You shiver at the contact. 

“Do I scare you?”, he asks, tracing a circle on your hip. 

Feigning dominance, you respond, “No, I’m not scared of you.”

You were definitely afraid of him. 

“I’m not afraid of a bubbling moron that goes around stalking people, unable to act like an adult,” you continue. 

You see Terry’s shoulders shake with a silent laugh. He pulls back, trailing the hand on your hip up to your neck. He wraps it around, squeezing slightly. You can feel your nipples harden through your shirt. 

”As long as you’re here, I won’t ever leave you alone. Deal with it”, he says. 

The statement causes you to look down at the floor. The thought of him bothering you forever was too much to bear. 

Terry lifts your chin so you can meet his eyes. You’re stuck, unable to look away; almost like you were being hypnotized. 

He kisses you, his mouth engulfing yours. His lips were so soft, citing a moan from you. His hands slide their way to your butt. He squeezes, pulling you flesh against his body. 

He picks you up, walking you over to the bed. He places you down, still not breaking the kiss. 

Your tongues fight for power, neither of you wanting to fall to the other. 

“Take these off”, he says tugging at your pants. 

You oblige, removing your shirt, pants and underwear. He does the same, allowing you to finally get a good look at his body. 

He was chiseled by the gods. His shoulders were large, coupled with a six pack and a deep v-line leading down to a hung dick. 

Terry hovers over you, settling his face in the crook of your neck to inhale your scent. His fingers begin to rub up and down your pussy, softly grazing over your clit. 

He plunges two fingers in you. He licks from your collarbone to the shell of your ear. He gives it a kiss. 

“Still as tight as last time. There’s no way somebody else been in here,” he teases in your ear. 

“Would’ve been better than you anyways,” you reply. 

Terry freezes. He pulls his fingers out of you, lifting his head up to stare in your eyes. The stoic expression is back. 

Uh oh. 

He sits back, using your hips to flip you on your stomach. His hands find your hair and he pushes your face into the mattress. He straddles you, his other hand on your back.  You can feel his dick resting on your ass. 

“I’ve been being really nice. I don’t appreciate all this back talk,” he says. 

“If you stop talking so much shit then maybe we wouldn’t have that problem,” you reply. 

Terry pushes you further into the mattress, leaning in closer to your face. 

“Apologize and mayb-“, he starts. 

“Fuck you”, you spit, cutting him off. 

With no warning, he slams into you, taking a pause so you can adjust around him. 

His grip loosens from your hair, wrapping it around to cover your mouth. He lowers the rest of his body on you, trapping you between him and the mattress. 

“You don’t know how to shut up and be a good girl. Always got that bitchy attitude. That’s ok, I can fix that”, he says with a smile. 

He begins to thrust into you, hard. The position made it feel like he was poking your lungs. 

“Can’t nobody fuck this pussy like I can.”

He would pull up, only leaving the tip; rolling his hips, before thrusting back in. He kept moving over your spot; it felt like scratching an itch slowly.

“Talking all that big shit, say something now,” he urges, removing his hand. 

All you could respond with was a moan. No matter how hard you tried, you couldn’t form any words. He was fucking you dumb. 

You began to pant, feeling out of breath; that familiar knot growing in your stomach. 

Terry shifts, the change of angle reaching a new dept within you. 

“Cumming,” you say with an exasperated sigh. He continued to fuck you through it, making it feel like it was going on forever. 

“That’s what I thought”, he says. 

Terry flips over to his side, taking you with him. He grabs the back of your knee, pulling it up to your ear. He slides back into you, feeling even deeper than before. 

“Ah, fuck, that feels so fucking good”, you say. 

“You are mine, this pussy is mine, all MINE. You belong to me,” he growls, planting a kiss on your knee.  

You nodded. The words sounding like music to your ears. If this was the kind of dick you’d get everyday, you thought it wouldn’t be too bad. Besides, you know he wasn’t going to leave you alone anytime soon. Especially if you had a baby on the way. 

“You will be a slut for me, whether you like it or not  

He kept slamming into, never letting up. His free hand grabs your neck, pulling you closer to his face. You felt the warmth of his breath on your skin. 

“I’m gonna cum again”, you say. 

“Let it go, wet that dick up”, he replies. 

With that, you let go, screaming to the heavens. Terry follows closely behind. You feel him tense up as he paints your walls white. 

The two of you are a mess of sweat and deep breaths. Terry pulls out of you, looking down at the art he created. He gives a playful slap to your ass cheek.

“That wasn’t so bad, was it?”, he says.

You roll your eyes, getting a chuckle out of him. 

He gets up, heading to the bathroom to check on the test. 

“Oh look”, he says flashing it to you, “it’s negative”.

-

@nahimjustfeelingit-writes @skvrpion @avoidthings @jimmybutlrr @persethegawd @nayaesworld @mymindisneverhere @theereina @thabiddie23 @planetblaque @megamindsecretlair @melaninpov @madamzola @literallegendicon @blyffe

[cobaltperun]

Tara who has a crush on the cute barista reader??? Love your fics

5 Times You Made Coffee and 1 Time You Didn't

(Request) Tara Carpenter x GN! Reader

Masterlist

Word count: 3.1k

Tara knew she should have been more careful, she knew she should have been cautions of every stranger. First Amber and Richie, then Quinn and Ethan, and she shivered at the very thought if how many times Sidney got betrayed and targeted.

But you were so cute. With that smile, standing out from all the polite smiles of the other barista. And you made perfect coffee, so perfect she now made it her mission to bring as many people, which admittedly and given her social circle wasn't all that many, to your coffee shop when it was your shift.

This time she was here with Mindy, after a long day of classes. "Good afternoon," you smiled at Mindy and then turned toward Tara. "Tara," your already warm smile widened and she almost thought she didn't even need coffee after the burst of energy she got just from seeing you.

"Hey, Y/N," she smiled back at you, hoping her crush wasn't that obvious.

“The usual?” you asked her and she nodded, you’ve been making a cappuccino for her for weeks now and it didn’t take you long to figure out that was her coffee of choice. “And for you?” you turned to Mindy.

“Could I get an espresso?” Mindy asked and you nodded.

“Right away,” you backed away and Tara looked down, blushing at Mindy’s questioning look.

“Spill it, T,” Mindy demanded and pointed at you in the most obvious way. “You have a crush on them and it’s visible from a plane.”

She didn’t have to put it like that. “I just think they are cute,” she didn’t deny her crush. “I just have a good feeling about them, you know?” and she knew a good feeling wasn’t enough anymore, but she had to believe it would be enough this time.

Mindy opened her mouth but then changed her mind and instead just hummed. “Let’s judge their coffee making skills first, you’ll be needing someone who can get your coffee just right,” Mindy grinned and Tara was happy Mindy was the first to find out about you. She knew Chad had a bit of a crush on her, and Sam was… well, Sam, she was protective.

“It’s better than just right,” she assured her of your skills, that was the one thing she couldn’t deny no matter what. You got it just right when she first tried it, and she just asked for a pinch of cocoa powder the second time and since then the cappuccino you made her was flawless.

Before her and Mindy could even start talking you came with their coffees and Tara reached for her wallet. “It’s taken care of,” you winked at her and walked over to the other table before she could say anything. Tara watched you, speechless, as she always was when you just told her the coffee was on the house.

Somehow, she was sure it had nothing to do with your parents owning the place. You would have treated her even if you just worked there.

“You weren’t kidding, they know how to make coffee,” Mindy commented as she took a sip of her espresso.

“Mhm,” she agreed absentmindedly, still paying attention to you.

“Classes weren’t really all that bad today,” Mindy commented, prompting yet another ‘mhm’ from Tara. You were preparing a coffee with utmost care, and there was definitely a reason why Tara kept sitting at this exact spot. It was easy to sneak glances your way from her seat.

“The Babadook sucks,” Mindy said and she once more agreed before Mindy snapped her fingers right in front of Tara’s face.

“Earth to Lover Girl, can you at least pretend we’re not here so you can make googly eyes at your crush?” Mindy was stuck between being amused and annoyed.

“Fine, fine, what did you just say?” she asked but Mindy just stuck her tongue out and Tara rolled her eyes. From the corner of her eyes she caught you smiling at her as you dried a glass you just washed.

About an hour later Tara approached you with the coffee cups. “Thank you, they were amazing, as always,” she told you as you reached over the counter to take them.

“Could I interest you in trying some other coffees? Only drinking cappuccino will make it taste bland over time,” you suggested and gestured at the chair near the bar. “Might be a good way to get to know each other, assuming I’m not misinterpreting things, of course,” you looked confident, but there was a small hint of shyness in your gaze. As if you’ve been trying to ask her this for some time now.

“Sure, I’ll leave my coffee order in your hands,” she accepted a bit too eagerly and you grinned together.

~X~

The next time she came to the coffee shop she sat down close to you, alone and eager to see what you had in mind for the first coffee testing, as Tara dubbed it.

“I’m all yours, barista,” she winked at you, not entirely catching on to what she just said.

You took it like a champ though, not even flinching at the potential double meaning as you prepared her coffee and Tara would love to say she could follow what you were doing but there was a reason she was desperately reliant on a coffee machine or shops like this one. Eventually you placed a small glass in front of her.

“Ristretto, comes from Italy, basically a stronger espresso. Same amount of coffee, in half the water,” it was early in the morning and she did have a long day ahead of her.

She nodded and brought the glass closer to her.

“So, how come you are a barista? I mean, besides your parents owning the place?” Tara asked, not yet ready to drink the coffee and be on her way.

You leaned over the counter. “Coffee is a bit of a passion for me, I love making it, and trying different variations,” you replied and she could see the honesty in your eyes.

Being passionate about coffee wasn’t what she expected but somehow, given how good you were at making it, she immediately believed it.

“I’m happy you can pursue your passion,” when was the last time she could pursue her own passions without looking behind her shoulder?

“It helps that I get to meet beautiful girls, like your friend last week,” you smirked, teasing her slightly.

She tried the coffee, and it was definitely strong, but there was some sweetness to it. “And what am I?” she chose to be bold, leaning slightly closer to you as she asked that.

You moved your hand until it was right next to her and offered it to her, and she accepted, putting her hand on top of your own. “You, Tara, are more than just beautiful.”

“Real smooth, Y/N,” she snickered but she would be lying if she said the compliment didn’t feel nice.

~X~

“Something lighter this time,” the moment Tara stepped into the coffee shop you placed a coffee cup at her newfound place at the bar.

“Am I that predictable?” Tara asked, actually slightly concerned about it. If you could time making the coffee for her after only knowing her for a short period of time. Could someone intending to hurt her learn her patterns this easily?

“Every single morning at 9:27 you walk through those doors,” you shrugged and she figured she unconsciously did start doing that.

She still rolled her eyes and sat down at her seat. She looked at her coffee.

“Café au lait, French this time. Coffee with warm milk,” you explained, correcting her assumption that it was just regular white coffee.

“You’re the expert,” she smiled and tried the coffee, and the only thing that crossed her mind was that she should have gotten you to experiment with her coffee taste sooner. “I swear I only tolerated coffee, but you’ll make me love it,” she sighed, almost dreamily at the light taste.

“That’s the idea,” you grinned but unlike last time when you could stay and chat with her, this time the coffee shop was busy, and you had to do your job. You still had the time to ask her about how her day went yesterday and how she did on the exam she had.

And it made her feel like her heart would lean out of her chest.

~X~

It took some time before you offered her a new coffee. You liked surprising her with new coffees randomly and over that period of time you met both Chad and Sam, both meetings went surprisingly well.

Tara had a gut feeling she would be trying a new coffee today as she walked into the coffee shop and saw you heating up water in some thin and tall pot. “Hey, Tara,” you said without turning to look at her and she leaned over the bar to watch you work. “Come over to this side,” you invited her and she happily rushed to your side. She just now realized this was the closest the two of you were, even closer than when you would bring her coffee to the table. So, instead of turning into a tomato, she focused on what you were doing. You added ground coffee to the boiling water and soon enough it began frothing.

“Watch out!” she exclaimed out of habit, but you just grinned and lifted it up, before lowering it back onto the stove and Tara watched as the coffee began frothing again.

“Trust the process,” you told her and lifted it again just as it reached the top of the pot and then did it again one last time before pouring it into two porcelain coffee cups. “Try it without sugar at first, then add it if you need to,” you said and placed cups in front of the chair next to your own. You patted the spot next to you and Tara hopped onto the chair, happy to be sharing coffee with you for the very first time.

“Which one is this?” she asked, the strong scent immediately woke her up, and while it was bitter it had a taste just as strong as the scent. It was bitter enough that she needed to add a bit of sugar to it.

“Turkish, you saw the process, and that,” you pointed at the thin and tall pot. “Is most often called a cezve,” you explained and took a sip of the coffee, clearly enjoying yourself.

Tara smiled, leaning a bit closer to you, enjoying the warmth of the coffee and your presence.

~X~

“Caffè mocha!” she knew this one, she never really went out of her way to try it, but she knew it, and she was proud to show you she could name what you just made for her.

“Mhm,” you were drinking with her behind the counter again, as it was a habit you seemed to develop ever since you made that Turkish coffee for her. “Figured you deserved something sweet for getting an A on that exam,” you nudged her lightly and she grinned, all happy and proud.

“You know it,” she looked at you and felt ready to finally take that next step. In fact, she’s been trying to get herself hyped up to say it since your meeting with Sam went well. “Say, Y/N,” she began and cleared her throat.

“Yeah?” your full attention was on her, made possible by lack of customers at the moment and Tara thanked whatever higher being arranged for that to happen.

“I want to make coffee for you,” she said and you raised an eyebrow, clearly surprised by her offer. “Come and hang out at my place? I mean, Sam will be there because she is really protective, but uh, yeah, come to my place,” she stopped herself before she could start rambling.

“I’d love that,” you said and that was when her luck ran out, as a customer came into the coffee shop and you had to go and get his order. “I’d absolutely love that,” you leaned over and kissed her on the cheek and Tara pumped her fist and cheered quietly, much to your amusement.

~X~

You couldn't remember the last time you were this nervous; after all a beautiful girl just invited you to her apartment. Granted with her older sister present as well, but she did invite you. You looked up at the building in front of you, it was almost daunting with how many floor it had and as far as you knew there were no elevators and Tara lived on the top floor. You still had no idea why, or why Sam was as protective of Tara as she was.

You understood older sibling protectiveness, but Sam took it to the next level.

“I can do this,” you hyped yourself up and typed in the code Tara gave you. The heavy metal doors opened, and you stepped in, beginning the long journey up the stairs. Well, at least this was a good test to see if you were still in shape. And it turned out you were still in good shape! Which was great because otherwise you would have had a lot of troubles keeping your heart rate normal. Your heart was already beating faster than it should just because you were about to meet up with Tara but that was beside the point, at least you didn’t have to worry about whether you were or weren’t in shape. You reached the door of her apartment and took another deep breath. “I can do this,” you whispered to yourself, and you checked the flower bouquet and the box of chocolates you brought. Frankly speaking, you may have dressed to impress a bit too much, but knowing Tara she would find it endearing.

At least you hoped she would.

You were just about to knock when the door suddenly opened and you were met with the girl you had a crush on for the past several weeks. Could the ground beneath your feet just open and swallow you whole? This was too embarrassing! “Oh, hi!” you stammered embarrassed as she caught you in front of her own doors like a dumbass who couldn't even get the courage to knock on the doors of the girl that invited them in herself.

“Hi,” she blushed and looked down and you found yourself thinking she looked so adorable like this. And then you both just laughed because you were both ridiculously shy about this. All that confidence you had back at the coffee shop was seemingly gone, as it was blown away by the wind blowing around the building. “Oh, shit, sorry, come on in!” Tara seemed to realize she was blocking your entrance and stepped aside letting you come in and join her inside.

“Right, thank you for having me,” you cleared your throat and gave her the flowers and the box of chocolates. “Uh, this is for you. I didn't know what you liked so I just went with the cliche option,” you nervously rubbed the back of your neck as heat rushed to your cheeks. Tara smiled and took it from you, and her fingers brushed against your own.

“Thanks, I love it,” and so you went inside followed her to the living room where Sam was already waiting.

“Hello, Sam,” you nodded, greeting her and she nodded back.

“Come on sit down, I won't bite,” Sam smiled kindly at you and gestured towards the sofa “Tara's been really nervous about impressing you, just so you know,” her words cause Tara to adorably blush once more.

“Sam please,” the younger Carpenter sister groaned and seemed to make herself even smaller than she was and then she just pointed toward what you assumed was the kitchen. “I’m just going to go and make coffee.”

Unlike you, she had a way to flee.

But that meant you would be alone with Sam.

“Wait! Do you need help? You know, since I am a professional and all that,” you were grasping at straws, pleading for mercy, because anything would be better than being along with Sam. Even all these weeks after you met her she still made you nervous. Tara seemed to relax at seeing you were just as nervous as she was, if not more and she laughed patting you on the back.

“I think I can handle myself,” well, as long as she felt better you figured you could take some teasing. Resigning to your fate you just sighed and sat down as Tara left you and Sam alone.

“So, what are your intentions with my sister?” Sam asked without a hint of joking, she was completely serious, and you choked on air, only to then hear her chuckling. “Relax I'm just messing with you. Let's just wait for Tara to come back with coffee.”

Well, that was a relief. So, you sat there in silence, and you had a feeling this was only awkward for you, from the looks of it for Sam it was more amusing slash comfortable. Finally, after way too much time, Tara came back with three coffee mugs and she sat down next to you. You recognized the smell the moment she stepped into the living room and you couldn’t describe how happy you were.

“I've been practicing,” she confessed and it showed because the coffee smelled wonderful.

“Cortado,” you would recognize the scent anywhere and she, from the looks of it, did it perfectly.

Tara smacked her forehead in frustration “Damn, I was sure you wouldn't guess it. Guess that’s a pro for you,” she, clearly still annoyed, handed a twenty dollar bill to a rather satisfied Sam.

“It's one of my favorites actually,” you confessed and her eyes widened at that.

“So how come you never made it for me?” she sounded offended as if something special between you just became a tiny bit less special.

“It's not on the menu, and well I like to keep this one for special people. And in private, can't have customers smelling this and asking about it,” you shrugged and took the sip of the coffee. You were right, it really was perfect, even more so since Tara was the one who made it for you.

“Fine, you goofball, but you're making it for me next time. At your own apartment,” you could work with that even if Sam nearly choked when Tara said that.

[omnipresentlemon]

I, like everyone else watching this show, have spent every episode wondering if someone will even mention The Batman. But it didn’t click for me until this episode why The Batman and Bruce Wayne are so absent from this narrative.

We’ve been told this whole season that no one cares about Crown Point, no one cares about the poor people of Gotham - Bruce Wayne is the Prince of Gotham. The Batman has corruption to root out of high places, “real” villains to deal with. Why would either of them pay much attention to a gang war on the other side of the proverbial tracks that only takes place over the span of a month or so?

Only when Oz obtains the wealth and status that allows him to be a part of the elite of Gotham do we see the Batsignal, the literal sign that he has now risen to the notice of Gotham’s protector. That he is now considered a villain who needs Batman’s attention. It’s SUCH interesting commentary on how monsters are made and becoming something worth slaying.

[dentos-wife]

See the problem is most people do not care unless it affects them. We have learned this a million times, hell look at the Puerto Ricans who changed their vote last minute because oh my gosh how dare they say that about my group!!! Despite the other side being awful as hell to everyone else including the other Hispanic populations which I’m going to be honest blew my mind a bit.

I hate to bring up the same thing a million other people say but it’s true, it’s the “I didn’t think the leopards would eat my face said the woman who voted for the leopards eating faces party.” phenomenon

So it’s pretty simple; if this is the only way someone will pay attention, then yes the suffering everyone else is feeling needs to hit their own circle for them to realize. When they’re dying from food regulation pulled back maybe they’ll realize. Or as we’ve seen with Covid maybe they won’t and they’re too damn stupid. I hate to use silly video game quotes but goddamn does Soren Fire Emblem hit it hard.

It’s true! We’ve seen it happen! We’ve heard from PLENTY of former Trump voters who are former Trump voters that all have one common theme: they didn’t think they would be affected and they’re got affected. So anyone who is like I want the people to suffer yeah I get it for selfish people who will not respond to outreach who will not have empathy for other people, it’s been proven it’s the only way they will care. Of course op the preferred method of is becoming a part of their circle so they care about you too. And don’t get me wrong that can work too and had but only on people willing to open their hearts and I hate that not everyone is capable of that. You’d think it’s do easy but it’s been proven that unfortunately a good amount of people don’t care until they or their community gets hit. And it sucks so many people are incapable of this empathy for others who are suffering SO

TLDR

Some people need this to happen because they don’t have compassion for others and it sucks I’m 100% anti suffering. I agree with you it’s not as important as marginalized communities safety and that’s not what we should be focusing on HOWEVER we’ve seen with this group of the unreachable its the only way they’ll wake up. And sometimes that doesn’t even happen and nothing can change their mind. For me it’s not about accountability or even having others suffer it’s you’re so closed minded you cannot see what’s happening until it hits you so for the sake of the world I hope it hits you and you wake up and join us despite what you’ve done in the past I’d love to have you thank you for finally opening your mind.

Every time you think to yourself, "I want the people who voted That Way to learn their lesson," I want you to come back to this post and ask yourself, "Is that really more important than marginalized people's safety? Am I engaging in Leftist LARPing to the detriment of actual people?"

[azrielarcherondefenseattorney]

Something that is so often overlooked about Azriels very overlooked personality is how perfectly suited it is to spying. Hes not just doing a job, its like he was made for it and i don’t just mean hes quiet and reserved. I mean he truly loves the quiet and peace, the waiting game. You see the juxtaposition between him and Cassian when they are spying together in ACOSF chapter 68, Cassian is the raring to go and fight, needs banter and to keep busy(nesta being in danger definitely didn’t help lol). Azriel is the opposite.

Cassian rolled his eyes, “I stopped spying because it bored me to death. I don’t know how you put up with this all the time.”

“It suits me.” Azriel.

You see it translate to who he chooses to spend time with when he has the few instances to do so in the books. Whether hes training feyre or sitting with elain, its one on one, easy, laid back, quiet, and hes a lot more open with perfect dry humor. No loud obnoxious bantering for him. Which he gets a lot of from his family as we see with his headaches 😂 hence the need for headache powder.

Hes the kind of person whos so quiet and in the background he gets overlooked in a crowd. He needs another spy, someone who pays attention to little things someone who is observant and quiet, to truly see HIM.

I relate to that so much.

Azriel appreciation week Day 1 @azrielappreciationweek

[17020]

uhh.. kotoha..? what happened last night..?

nsfw (?). not explicit, but i'm tagging it anyway. content warning for dubcon (togame is sober, fem! reader is not), alcohol consumption, implied thigh riding. this happened to me at a halloween party a few weeks ago, so to cope i'm writing it out. stay safe beautiful angels! togame is an ass in this one. i am sorry to jo togame. tried to lighten the mood with cameos from other shows.

it was all a blur. the bottle of rum you gulped down in less than an hour did not help, either.

what started out as a tranquil week ended up with a text from your best friend: an address to a house for a halloween party. ladies pay $5 if you signed up beforehand, $10 if you show up at the door. begrudgingly, you agreed, being added to the party's group chat and noticing some familiar names.

and when you're invited in such a hurry, the options for costumes are non-existent. throwing on a skimpy all black outfit and styling your hair with some accessories, you hoped you would at least pass as misa amane.

not that anyone would mind, anyway, because as soon as you and kotoha stepped in, you were flooded with the scent of sweat and liquor.

knowing absolutely nobody meant you had to join an established group. two women alone at a party was never a good sign, so when you spotted a group of girls and one guy, you knew you had to spark up a conversation.

what you didn’t expect, was to be approached by a cowboy. and behind the messy buttoned up shirt, red bandana and huge brown hat, was shishitoren’s second in command.

“so, what’re you dressed up as, pretty?”

his tone was laced with cockiness, as if every fiber of his being was pure gold. gold that, in his eyes, might’ve been the world’s greatest treasure, yet nothing more than cheap trash in yours. but when rum hasn’t hit you hard enough, you need to find some sort of entertainment. what’s a conversation with a man going to do?

“misa misa” you smiled, “what about you? what are you dressed up as?”

he pretended to think about it for a moment, as a younger, shorter man jabbed him with his elbow, gushing about how you were the greatest costume he’d ever seen of misa so far. “i’m dressed as a cowboy, pretty” he said, tilting the hat on his head. “so you’re misa misa, where’s your light?”

you shook your head while laughing, “there’s no light here, bud. so what brings you here?”

after long talks of what dragged each of you to a backyard after party somewhere in keisei, finding out you live near one another, and him asking you the ‘how old do you think i am’ question, there was one thought that never left your mind…

gosh. jo togame is so annoying.

it was annoying, the way he tried leading you away from your best friend kotoha and onto the dance floor, with your hand doing crazy signals behind your back in hopes of her noticing. which she did. she dragged you away from him with the excuse of looking for another nonexistent friend, which you were truly grateful for.

and not even an hour later, you saw the cowboy again. to your surprise, he was on the dance floor once more. with a girl who looked exactly like you.

it was obvious he had a type.

a while later, you stumbled across him again, this time completely alone, and completely shirtless. it was then when you realized the alcohol had finally kicked in, full on. you nearly tripped on your own feet as you walked towards him, with togame’s arm snaking around your waist to catch you.

“you look a bit gone, pretty. gotcha some water.”

you took the plastic cup from his hand, almost gulping it down in one go. when he set the cup aside his attention was fully on you, and that was when your body decided it was best to fool around.

“i saw youu pretty boyyy” you slurred, “saw you with someone else while i was gone!”

he chuckled as he brought you closer to him, “you were with your friend, beautiful. thought you didn’t want me there, cause i do want you here.”

in a swift movement, his chest was pressed against your back as he swayed both of your bodies to the music blaring through the speakers. “you wanna dance with me, doll?”

you nodded, as the big hands on your waist pulled you even closer to togame, his hips slowly grinding against yours. you could feel his breath hitch on your neck, as the music became louder and louder. grinding soon enough turned into thrusting, with his hands lowering towards your hips. togame was quick to turn you around, your legs parted as he propped up his knee. togame leaned in, with you softly pushing his head to the side, shaking your head and mouthing a ‘no’.

but jo togame liked a challenge.

so as you tried to regain your composure one of his hands lowered to your ass, rolling your hips against his thigh as he closed the distance between the two of you, the other hand cradling your jaw.

jo tasted normal. you tasked like alcohol filth.

he wasted no time slipping his tongue inside, earning a gasp from you as you desperately clung onto him for stability. thinking you might as well enjoy your singleness, you finally kissed back, fingers running through his raven hair as you nearly got yourself off on his thigh. yet you felt nothing.

pulling away for air, he sighed dreamily. “you kiss so fuckin’ good, y’know that?”

“so i’ve been told” you laughed, before worry took over you. “where’s my best friend? i want water for her too.”

togame looked around, unsure of how to respond. “well, if it’s your best friend, i suppose i can grab another cup for ya. stay here, alright?”

he walked away and headed to the counter where they had the drinks, and a tap on your shoulder made you turn around. it was a tall, purple haired man who you’d recognize anywhere.

“name’s gen. wanna dance?”

you lazily nodded as he walked closer to you, his hand on your waist and your arms around his neck. and you smiled, because he wasn’t as forward as togame. what a relief!

your happiness came to an end when he leaned in, to which you cupped his jaw and mouthed a ‘no’ while shaking your head. your happiness returned when he nodded, apologizing for trying to kiss you in the first place. and when the dj shouted ‘where the singles ladies at’, you screamed louder than any crazed fangirl when seeing their favorite singer.

gen laughed as he nudged for you to look to your side, where there were a group of men whistling, pointing to a man with a raven bowlcut, with his friends yelling ‘he’s single!’ to you.

you giggled as you bumped into none other than togame, who had a cup in his hand. finally.

taking the cup you guided him to kotoha. if by guiding, you meant stumbling your way through people, and togame having his hands on you to make sure you don’t trip and fall. and you were grateful to reach her so quickly, because as soon as she finished her cup you got a text from your tsubaki saying she was already there to pick you both up.

you turned to the cowboy, who leaned down to kiss you deeply once more, followed by a quick peck. when he asked for your socials, he smiled.

“i’ll be honest, pretty. i know i was with other girls tonight but you were the most beautiful girl here. i’d love to get to know you more. would you like that, doll?”

you smiled, “of course! i’d love that, togame.”

and with that, you left with kotoha, with her whispering in your ear. “you’re seriously gonna meet the dude?” you laughed, “oh hell no! i don’t think he’ll text anyway.”

a day later, your phone buzzed.

jotogame: hey ☺️ do you remember me 🙈?

ynln: no 😊👍

jotogame: well that’s a shame, i would’ve loved to have gotten to know you

jotogame: you’re beautiful

ynln: thanks

jotogame: there’s something about the way your eyes looked at me, like they hypnotized me

ynln: glibness doesn’t work on me, boy

jotogame: you know i was gonna stop replying after your “thanks” but i thought you should know.

ynln: i’m truly sorry if i caused you any trouble at the party yesterday 😊 take care

jotogame: yeah i just took care of you, don’t worry

you never blocked someone so fast in your life.

taglist: @toyogamii @stunies @hayatoseyepatch @takiishiluvr @okkotsushi @maruflix @nyxypoo @littleplantfreak @vinomino

[honeyjars-sims]

3.37 Soulmates

Today I’m spending some time with Pops. While I was camping, he found out that the LGBT center where he’s been working forever will be closing in just a couple weeks and he’ll be out of a job. It wasn’t unexpected–they’ve been having funding issues for a while–but it still sucks. Unfortunately, Dad is in San My for a gig this weekend, so I figure Pops could use some company.

“I’m really sorry about your job,” I tell him as he finishes washing the dishes. “Are you guys gonna be okay?”

“We have a good amount in savings, and I’ve already been in contact with someone at the LGBT center in Del Sol. They’ve all but offered me a position there that pays more and has more flexibility.”

“Wow, that’s great! So I guess you won’t have much of a reason to stay in Evergreen Harbor, then.”

“Not really. We could probably find a smaller place closer to the LGBT center.”

I know what that means. There’s no reason my parents should have to pay for another 3 bedroom house when their kids are grown. “I guess it’s time for me to find a place, too.”

“I’m sorry to spring it on you like this, but I think you’re ready for it.”

“Yeah, I am. I really appreciate you guys taking me in for as long as you did.”

“You’ve come a long way, Johnny. You’ll be just fine.”

“What about you? You’ll be all alone when Dad is traveling.”

“That’s the good thing about this job. I’ll be able to work remotely some, so I can travel with Dad sometimes.”

“Oh, that’s good then. I know it’s not easy for you two to be away from each other.” I pause. There’s something that’s been on my mind since I came back from my camping trip, and Pops seems like the perfect person to help me figure it out. “Do you think you and Dad are soulmates?”

“Soulmates? Hmm.” He stops for a moment to consider. “No, I don’t think we are,” he finishes.

“Really? Why not?” I'm taken aback by his answer. What does he mean, they're not soulmates?

“Well, you remember how Dad and I met, right?”

“Yeah, you saw each other at a protest and sparks flew or something cheesy like that.”

“Mm-hmm. But I don’t think I’ve ever told you the full story of what happened that night. Before I ended up at the protest, I was at your mom’s apartment–she told me she needed to talk to me about something. Instead, I told her I was gay and couldn’t be in a relationship with her anymore, and I left–without finding out that she was pregnant.”

“Oh. She was going to tell you that night?”

“Yes, until she decided that I wasn’t the kind of man that should raise children. If things had been different–if she had told me she was pregnant before I came out to her–I would have stayed.”

“You would’ve kept pretending to be straight?” I can't imagine what his life would have been like but it sounds pretty terrible. And to think he would have chosen that because of me and Chantal?

“For a while at least. And who knows, maybe eventually I would have found someone else to love and I’d still be happy. But I wouldn’t have met your dad that night.”

“Ok, but that didn’t happen. What does that have to do with being soulmates?”

“Because, Johnny, if I’d stayed with her a little longer then the things that happened to you and Chantal at your mom’s house wouldn’t have happened. I would have been there to keep you safe and well cared for. I just can’t believe that your Dad and I were meant to be together when the circumstances that led to us meeting were also the circumstances that led to my children being hurt and neglected.”

“Well, maybe it’s fate and you would’ve met a different way.” I'm having a hard time wrapping my head around what Pops is saying. A world where he and Dad aren't together just doesn't make sense.

“Maybe. But I don’t think any of these hypotheticals really matter. Like you said, that’s not what happened. What matters is that today, in the here and now, I can’t imagine my life without him. Any reason in particular why you’re thinking about soulmates?” He raises his eyebrows knowingly.

“I guess it’s more that I’m wondering how you know if someone is the right person for you, but it kind of sounds like it’s not that simple.”

“Well, a sign isn’t going to drop down from the heavens that says ‘This person is the one,’ but it doesn’t have to be complicated. Find the person you can’t imagine your life without. I don’t know if that’s what you were wanting to hear, but I hope it answers your question.”

Find the person you can’t live without. Maybe there aren’t signs falling from the sky, but those words are about as close as I’ll get. “It does," I tell him. "It may not be the answer I was expecting, but I think it cleared something up for me.”

“I see. Do you want to talk about it?"

Normally I would jump at the chance to get some input, but now I don't feel like I need it. I shake my head. “No, I think I can handle it from here.” The thought makes me nervous, but I can’t avoid this. I need to talk to Lacey.

Previous | Beginning of story | Beginning of chapter | Next

[dissociation-station123]

More than an Acquaintance

LADS: Sylus X Reader

~

It has been a month or two since Sylus walked into the bar. Each week you walked in he sat in your spot with confidence as if it was his all along. Slowly his eyes began to become less serious and melancholy after each greeting. Though you barely spoke much. Still the same old surface level conversations with a few more words added each time. Nothing has deterred you from your normalcy or routine.

You felt yourself slowly becoming more comfortable around him. Those warning alarms in your mind when you first encountered him dulled. He became a part of the scene of your life. Someone who didn’t know you but acknowledged you.

You did notice that the bar had got a bit more crowded than usual, people drawn in by his model-like looks. Hopeful for a chance to take him home. He always declined them in a way that still made them feel wanted. His social ability was admirable. Your curiosity peaked each time he denied an attractive person’s advances. A simple shrug your way and a raised glass is always his response.

He was an enigma. A puzzle that your brain needed to figure out. Yet you could not find a way to do so. The complexities of conversation are exhausting and you just wanted to relax, in the bar you claimed. So you simply existed in his presence.

Until he decided to set his sights on you. He was a storm you were not prepared for. You were comfortable standing in the water up to your ankles, unaware that letting him in your life, it was a sandbar.

~

“Y/N I refuse to allow you to pay.” Sylus shoves that damn black card in your face once again. You scowl which only amuses him further. “Don’t look at me like that.”

“This feels like I’m taking advantage of you. I can afford my drinks.” You rebuttal but he waves a hand in your direction and hands his card to the bartender who laughs. You sigh heavily but the moment the glass arrives you happily take a sip.

You look over and he chuckles, you roll your eyes. “Such a brat…” He mutters and you bite your cheek. His banter towards you recently has become more playful. Yet based on your observations, it seems to be some kind of defense he uses, so you haven’t given it much thought.

“Try this.” Sylus passes his glass over to you and stares down expectantly. Your eyes narrow as you assess why. He scoffs in amusement, “Tell her I didn’t poison it.” He motions towards the bartender who cackles in response.

“He paid to have this whiskey imported. Just got it in this morning. It’s top tier. Worth a try.” She smiles kindly, bringing over a new glass and setting it in front of you, pouring the contents into the bottle.

You swirl the liquor and then bring it to your lips. You look up and he is watching with a content expression. Waiting patiently for your critique. You take a sip with caution. Your eyes widen as you swallow. It is very smooth. The burn is satisfying and not harsh like the usual cheap bourbon you drink. “Mmm…” You nod with satisfaction.

He looks pleased with himself after your response. “One of my favorites. I knew you would appreciate it.” You take a longer drink humming. You give him a thumbs up and he chuckles.

“Please refrain from telling me how much this cost you. It would make me enjoy it less.” You warn him with a glare and he smiles brightly.

“I love seeing the expressions you make when I ruin things for you. One of the reasons I keep coming back here.” He teases you ruffling your hair, his light touch no longer fazing you.

“Sadist.” You mutter but you smirk as you finish off the fancy whiskey. The bottle still sits between you so he pours you more. You glance at him and he just nods, letting you know it’s fine. You gladly drink oblige.

You want to ask him why he came here. What brought him through that dingy wooden door. It felt like a line that both of you weren’t ready to cross just yet.

“It cost…” you gasp and reach up covering his mouth in a panic. His eyes crinkle with mirth, his lips soft against your palm.

“Sylus…” You warn and then feel his teeth dig into your flesh gently. “What are you, a dog?” You remove your hand chastising him and he laughs.

“Sweetie, I’ve been called that and more.” His voice drips with seduction, naturally. You almost feel jealous about how easy it is for him. How easy it is to make your skin heat up with a string of words and tone.

You roll your eyes, your frustration directed more to yourself than to him. Your fumbling and awkward demeanor forever being called cute.

“What are you thinking about?” Sylus leans closer, as he sips. Those red eyes scanning your face in curiosity. You shove him away but he still waits for an answer, never offended.

“Nothing.” You say the usual reply and pour more. He clicks his teeth. “Everything. All at once.” You continue and he looks intrigued, resting his chin on his hand.

“The curse of the overthinker.” He says and you nod. “Must be difficult.” You nod unable to maintain eye contact. “It’s better to just live in the moment. You should give it a try sometime.”

A prickle of irritation runs down your spine. “As if it’s that easy.” You growl not meaning to sound so annoyed. This does not deter Sylus, it almost looks as if it excites him.

“It could be.” His voice so matter of fact, you mock him. Your body freezes as he grabs your chin and tilts it towards him forcing you to face him. “Don’t be such a wimp.”

Rage bubbled to the surface, the kind that had been building up for years. A dam that had been battered and never repaired. The cracks slowly leaking over time, bursting to life. “That look is intoxicating.” The arrogant bastard spouted out with a twisted mannerism.

“You are fucked up Sylus. I’m sure that’s how you ended up here at this shitty bar.” You say venom laced in your words which only made him smile larger.

“A similar broken soul.” He says nonchalantly with a shrug. “I wish I could wear my expressions as freely as you do.” He admits his face showing nothing.

“You could.” You say condescendingly, “You're just a wimp.” You grab the bottle from the counter and take a long swig directly. This conversation seemed dangerous. A rough way of getting to truly know each other.

His eyes lower for a millisecond. Then he releases your chin and his whole body shakes as he laughs, a genuine sound. It bounces around the empty bar.

“Closing time.” The bartender reminds us as you continue to grimace at him. She nervously looks back and forth. You take in a breath, burying the anger as fast as it had appeared.

“Already…” Sylus mutters looking at his phone surprised. “That’s a shame.” He almost looks truly disappointed. You felt bad for snapping back at him.

“Are you hungry?” You ask him and his eyebrows raise. “Well?” You begin to gather your things as he processes your question.

“Are you inviting me back to your place?” He asks cheekily and you groan. You elbow him as he tries to move closer.

“Hell no! There is a pizza truck down the street.” You counter as the bartender closes his tab and tosses the empty bottle of expensive whiskey in the trash. You see her laugh, you both become a form of entertainment for her.

“That makes more sense. You would never be so bold.” He says as he starts following you out. You turn to him, crossing your arms.

“Are you hungry or not? Cuz this can be goodnight.” You stand tall even as he towers over you. “But it seems you weren’t ready for the night to end yet. Need to be distracted from something a bit longer.”

A strange silence fills the space between you. You see him contemplating if he has let you get too close. “So clever. Yes I can eat.” He opens the door for you and you walk out without a response.

~

You watch him stare at the grease as he lifts the large slice of pizza. “It won’t kill you.” You say as you take a large bite and make a pleased sound. The bread is the perfect combo to soak up the alcohol.

“Says you…” He whispers, hesitant but takes a tiny bite. You smile when he goes for a bigger one quickly after.

The metal bench was cold even through your jeans, the air felt good against your flush face. The night was quiet as you both ate without speaking another word. The strange comfort of having someone beside you is nice for a change. You admit you weren’t ready to go home either.

“You are a kind person.” Sylus speaks up taking you by surprise. You see he has finished his food in record time.

“You don’t know me.” You say matter of fact. Your thoughts tell you differently. Everyday bombarding you with mistakes from your past. This man, this stranger who appeared could not understand.

“It’s your actions. I can tell that those who see you regularly appreciate you.” He continues, and you don’t know how to respond. You don’t want to accept this.

“You never once make me feel unwelcomed. I know you could tell I was bad news the moment your eyes landed on me.” He explains as you finish your slice. You hold out your hand to take his napkin to toss. He grabs it and kisses your knuckles brazenly.

“Napkin weirdo.” You scold him and he chuckles, handing it to you. You get up and throw them away. Sitting back down and lifting the water bottle to your lips you take a long gulp.

“I want to get to know you.” Sylus blurts out and you finally look up at him. He looks like when you first met him, stoic and serious. “Don’t you dare utter why.” His voice is demanding and leaves no room to rebuttal.

“Why should I get to know you?” You ask instead. You see him processing your question. Giving it true consideration. You sense he was not used to others questioning him.

“It would be fun. Probably unhealthy and addictive. Just like your bourbon.” He was so confident. Shame probably was not a concept he could comprehend. It was damn intriguing.

“Tell me why you walked into the bar.” You borrow his temerity, wearing it for a second. It felt foreign and strange but not wrong.

“Love.” He says the word like a curse. You are taken back by the pure disgust on his face. So much emotion, you wonder what that feels like.

“So a broken heart then?” You ask and he just nods. “One sided?” Sylus bites his lip and if his expression was not so somber you would have found it attractive.

“Have you ever been in love?” He does not answer but counters. The past creeps up into your peripheral and you cringe. “That was a yes.”

“I was married once.” You answer, “But not sure if it was love. I felt numb most of the time. Or anxious.” He frowns at your statement, a slight sense of anger lingered in his eyes for a second.

“You didn’t deserve that.” You turn to him with a flat expression. He looks back still so assured. It pissed you off now. The way this man could ignite the flames long put out.

“I could have. Stop assuming.” You shiver as the wind turns bitter. You look at the time and sigh. “I like it when you're at the bar.” You finally admit and he nods.

“I’m glad I walked in.” He responds, again the calm silence. “It’s getting late. Let me walk you home.” He stands looking to the sky at the moon above. He looks weary and forlorn. Yet so very beautiful. There is no way he was real.

“I can walk by myself. This is my turf anyways. I’m not too far.” You explain stretching. The food settling nicely, your mind not clouded by the haze of liquor now.

“There has been some increase in muggings in this area. Let me feel like a good guy just this once.” You nod and he thanks you. You walk next to each other shoulders inches apart. You know he is slowing his pace based on his long legs. He was thoughtful even if he wanted to be painted as the opposite.

“Here we are. Have a goodnight Y/N.” Lost in your thoughts you arrived home quicker than expected. On autopilot you look around and then thank him.

“Night.” You say and go to place your key in the door. As you turn to open it you come to a realization. Sylus leads you to your door as if he had walked it before. You turned around but he was already down the street. The warning bells that first alerted you rang again but there was this strange tingle in your chest, possible excitement?

[itsa-me-lily]

I am still tired, but brain is less mush after some lunch. (Can you guess what I had)

Here is other Military Program Spouse (mobile is fighting me to add the link)

It helps to assume here that unless stated otherwise Simon is wearing a medical mask around reader. She’s just like whatever floats your boat my dude

Content warning;

Mention of food, medical devices, scars, cellulite

“Simon whatever your middle name is Riley you better not be looking at my legs.”

Maybe his mum had a point, that women developed eyes in the back of their head. He wasn’t deliberately looking at your legs, but he wasn’t not not looking either. For some reason unbeknownst to him, you had decided that you had to make the biggest batch of soup known to man. Sure the seasons were changing, summer slowly letting go for fall, but it wasn’t as if a chilly wind was rattling at the windows threatening to steal whatever heat existed. It was still relatively balmy, warm enough to have the windows open and enjoy the breeze. Warm enough that having the stove going made the kitchen borderline stuffy, encouraging you to cook in just a loose tank top and shorts that hit mid thigh.

Simon wasn’t a prude, he wasn’t scandalized at seeing the curve of your thighs, or grossed out by the cellulite. Everyone had fucking skin and however you wanted to dress in the comfort of your home you were welcomed to it. But he had eyes and well he was curious. His own body was covered in scars and tattoos that told a myriad of stories. So he looked to see what yours had to say.

Picking at the chicken you had left on the counter he counted the spots that your insulin pods left behind like stars, noticed how you missed a small strip of hair when you were shaving, even the mole that you had on the back of one ankle; they all came together to make up parts of a story about his wife that he was just starting to get.

He was so lost in thought, mechanically putting piece after piece of poached bird into his mouth, barely paying attention to anything besides the action of seeming busy, that he didn’t notice when you turned around, the exasperation in your voice finally catching his attention.

“Seriously? What did I just say?”

Simon wasn’t someone who startled, didn’t jump or hunch his shoulders to his ears. He had spent far to much time sharpening himself as to cut anyone who tried to catch him unaware. He just wasn’t prepared for you to admonish him like that, hands on your hips and looking for him to answer your question.

“What? You said not to look at your legs…I wasn’t lookin’ at them”

Not a lie, but not quite the truth.

“Yeah instead you’re eating your way through them!”

He blinked at you slowly once and then twice, following your gaze down to the plate of chicken leg quarters he was indeed making his way through. At least one looked like it had been pounced on by scavengers.

“You said no lookin’, nothing about no tasting.”

That was most certainly a twitch to your eye. That probably should have been concerning, but honestly Simon was secure enough in his height and size that if you tried to suffocate him he could throw you off. He was a good head taller than you, honestly how much damage could you do? When you pointed your wooden spoon threateningly at his chest it didn’t do much besides remind him of a little old grandma who would wield the same utensil as a weapon.

“You sir, are an asshole. Now go run to a shop and get me one of the pre cooked chickens.”

“And why would I do that?”

“Because you’ve eaten half my damn chicken and like hell is my sancocho going to suffer for it.”

“Your what now?”

Yes Simon Riley knew he was being as ass. Yes he also thought that there was a realm of possibility that your upset face and clear murderous intentions were slightly endearing. But only slightly.

“My god damn soup. I swear to god if you fuck this up for me I will find a way to make you suffer the consequences.”

“Alright alright, no need to have a bird over some-heh, bird.”

He didn’t stay to see the double middle fingers you aimed for his back, he didn’t need to. He was pretty sure you were also cursing his name and maker. It wasn’t until the front door shut behind him that your colorful vocabulary was loudly shared with the world. It made him chuckle as he picked up his pace.

Heaven help anyone who got between a woman and her soup.

Edit

I am very passionate about my soup

[not-poignant]

Excerpt from chapter 101 of Underline the Black:

‘The thing is… Well. It’s so overwhelming for the people with me. James could only do this two or three times a year. Perhaps in being so restricted, I became used to taking it further, more often. I’m sure my instincts know it might not happen again for six months.’ ‘Yeah,’ Efnisien said softly. ‘So. I mean, that sucks too. For you. I don’t enjoy doing it for three days straight. Mostly because I actually kind of lost my mind a bit and stopped paying attention to a lot of it.’ Wouldn’t you want that? Gary thought, confused. Efnisien cleared his throat a few times, and Gary brought the water bottle over again, giving him small sips. Efnisien still didn’t seem interested in taking the bottle for himself. And once he was done drinking, he pressed his face into Gary’s chest like he was hiding for a moment. Then, he took a breath and turned outwards once more, looking at the open window. ‘If it’s like that every time,’ Efnisien said, ‘I could maybe do it five or six times a year. If it was only for one night, then maybe twice a month? If we could do other stuff as well in between?’ Gary didn’t know what to say for long moments, absently cupping Efnisien’s face and keeping it close to his chest. That seemed…far too generous. He was certain no peak alpha – except for maybe someone hyper-controlled and on the lower end of the ardolphogen spectrum like Augus – had ever been offered something like that. Possibly peak alphas just took it from others. But what Efnisien suggested was something Gary had always assumed was an impossibility. He used to be jealous of betas who could have penetrative sex every day, if they wanted to. And while this wasn’t every day, it was a far cry from anything he’d ever known. ‘You need time to think it through,’ Gary said, even as a part of him cried out to accept the offer.

[aurrsky]

The people need to let Stan wear pretty lacy underwear and fucked by Ford dammit!!!

OoOoo! YES, this is beautiful.🫶 You're so right – and it's unhealthy how much I've imagined this today!

How do we feel about power bottom, bossy 30!Stan in lacy, pastel pink underwear teasing 60!Ford (but then it kinda backfires), with Ford rimming him? Thumbs up, thumbs down? (in Soos' voice) Can you see my vision...? Should I write about my vision? Actually – I've written over 1,000 words about this, LMAO. Please enjoy!

–––

Stan’s legs were spread on the side of the bed, watching Ford who stood with his hands clenched in frustration, could hear him cursing underneath his breath as the tips of his ears turned a shade redder. Heavy tension gathered in the air, Stan could almost smell the lust floating above them.

He knew that Ford wanted to pounce on him the second he set his eyes on his crotch, covered in a lacy, pastel pink underwear with a little pretty bow at the front, above where his cock was. Stan was hard already – swelling, aching to have a large, six-fingered hand enveloping it.

Stan wore nothing but panties and his white t-shirt when he went down to the basement earlier, it was to lure out his brother, and get his revenge for the shit he pulled last night – Ford didn’t shoved his cock in him, only fucked him with his fingers even when he’d begged and moaned like a slut for him to fuck Stan right, but Ford merely smirked and hushed him with a fierce kiss.

If his brother wanted to tease him all night long, so could he.

Ford stopped whatever nerdy thing he was working on when he saw him, eyes widening slightly as he took in his figure. His glasses were askew when he shot up from his seat, but before he could dashed toward him, Stan turned around and pushed the elevator button close.

He smirked at the memories. Stan lifted his right leg and pressed his foot toward Ford’s sternum. Instantly, his brother knew his scheme once their eyes connected.

“You’re playing a dangerous game, Stanley.” His expression twisted into a disapproving frown.

Stan raised one of his brows, shifting to get comfortable. “Yeah? Well someone should’ve put his dick in me last night.”

Ford’s eyes narrowed before he let out a small, amused chuckle. “So cock hungry, aren’t you? Couldn’t handle a single night without something filling you up?”

Stan ignored his questions, and then, an idea popped in his head. He restrained a devilish smirk. Stan looked at Ford from underneath his lashes, slowly, as gentle as possible, his foot caressed down Ford’s firm body. He heard a sharp intake of breath as it stopped on his half chub, wiggling his toes there before he pressed down on it, just enough for Ford to feel a satisfying pressure.

A tiny gasp escaped Ford, he groaned out, “Stanley –”

“ – You wanna get a piece of my ass, old man? This big guy’s eager, huh?” His foot made a circular motion, he felt it hardening, smirking as it finally stood stiff and proud. Stan licked his lower lip, his heartbeat picking up pace, breath turning heavier.

“Get on your knees and kiss my legs – no hands.”

Ford’s face was flushed, with reluctance, and a subtle growl of, “You’ll pay for this.” Ford lowered himself until his knees touched the carpet, hands crossed behind him. Stan felt a shiver run down his spine as Ford’s intense gaze burned into him, his head bowing to place his lips on his shin, the soft noises Ford made as he kissed and nibbled it made heat spread through his cheeks.

Stan hummed, a pleased sigh leaving him. Ford trailed further up, leaving no place untouch from the assault of his lips, switching from one leg to the other. He groaned when Stan pressed harder, but never paused from showering kisses on his thigh. Stan palmed himself through his underwear, letting out a small moan.

“C’mon, put your mouth on me. Don’t remove my panties.”

Ford did it without hesitation, panting as he watched Stan touching himself before he let it go. He gasped as Ford mouthed at his clothed cock, licking and sucking lightly – he could feel his tongue; wet, hot, and perfect.

Fuck. He took back what he said about teasing Ford all night long – he couldn’t take it anymore.

“Touch me – now, give me your fucking hands!”

He yelped as Ford suddenly jumped on him, his back hit the mattress, and Ford got his hands on his t-shirt and literally ripped it off him. Stan’s jaw dropped as he watched the remains fall on the bed.

“Hey! You’re buyin’ me a new one!”

Ford’s lips formed a predatory smirk. “I told you, didn’t I? You’re going to pay for torturing me.”

Ford really meant it.

Stan spent his night moaning like a bitch in heat as Ford ate him out without removing his panties, it was pushed to the side to make room for his tongue. He held both his wrists in one large hand as his tongue plunged deep into him, grinding into that spot that made him mewled, toes curling – his other hand pushed two lubed fingers in him, preparing him quick, but it was enough for something bigger to fit in already. He played with himself earlier before putting on his panties – and judging by the chuckle Ford let out, he knew he did.

Both his tongue and fingers worked in sync before he removed them, Stan cursing and whining at the loss, and Ford stroked his own cock with lube, he thought that finally Ford would slide home – but no, the head of his cock was teasingly prodding his hole, and Stan knew the old fuck was laughing internally. He cursed, kicking one of his legs out in protest.

“Ford! I swear to fucking –”

“– Say it, Stanley, say that I’ve won this childish game of yours.”

Fuck, his ass was clenching onto nothing, wishing for a huge cock to plow it senseless until he couldn’t fucking walk.

Stan bit his lips, stubborn to admit defeat. When Ford slipped the head in, giving him a pleasant stretch – he gave up.

“You won! You sadistic fuck –”

Stan screamed when Ford shoved his cock all the way inside of him without a warning, letting out a long, low groan.

They were both on edge since this started.

It didn’t take long for them to come, with just a few thrusts, Stan stroking his cock in time with Ford’s movement, he screamed out his brother’s name before spurting out white all over his stomach and chest. Ford thrusted once more and came inside of him, moaning with his eyes shut, Stan clenched onto him hard, milking Ford until he softened.

His brother didn’t took out his cock afterward, but Stan didn’t give a shit, he could stay in him forever. They tiredly make out, a satisfied grin displaying on their faces.

This was a good fucking night.

–––

[monstersflashlight]

Hey i wanted to ask a question? How do you manage your Patreon account and money? (I’m thinking about investing one in the future for a comic series) and it’s also for a friend of mine that tried to use Patreon but before but it didn’t work? They are a writer too

Hi there! I'm not sure what you mean by managing, but I'm gonna explain a bit how I set it up and if you have more doubts send me a DM :)

How I set it up: I looked to other authors who had stuff similar to mine and specially other book authors to see their pricing and rewards and decided to have three tiers. The hardest part was to figure out how much money I should charge, because at the end of the day this is a hobby but if I'm earning money I should treat it as such, so it was important to set a good work/money ratio and I think the one I have works pretty well. After that, it was promoting it and waiting to see if people were interested. Truth be told, I had over 5000 followers when I started Patreon so I already knew at least some people would be interessted because I did some polls beforehand.

What I post: I post at least 6 stories a week (which is insane I know), five that are later going to be public here on Tumblr (tier 1 gets the content about 3 days before) and all the extra ones are exclusive for tier 2 and 3. All the stories and extras get published at similar times (usually 16:30 CET), so I'd say an schedule is a big thing because it helps you with organizing and also people know what to expect and when. Consistency is a big pro because people are more likely to be interested if they know you are updating regularly (doesn't need to be so frequent as I do, it could be one story a week).

How do I manage the money: Patreon sends your earnings thru PayPal once a month normally, but you can take it earlier if you need it. As per further taxes and non-fun stuff, I hired someone to do that for me because there's nothing I hate more than paperwork.

So, I started the Patreon without really much expectations, the same as when I started doing commissions. I didn't think nobody would like my stuff enough to pay for it, but I decided to take the leap and it worked (yay! super happy about it). My main goal was to pay for my therapy sessions and after I passed that I was just amazed that people kept suscribing and I'm super happy about it, like I can't even describe how happy it makes me. I would have never thought that someday I could tell my friends: "today's work task is a fisting scene" (true thing that happened), and it's fucking phenomenal. I hope your Patreon (if you decide so) works well, it's really amazing to earn money doing something you love. That said, don't be discouraged if it takes a while to take off, I aknowledge I'm super lucky and everything worked super nicely for me, but that's not always the case, so I don't want you to think you are failing just because it takes longer for you. And even if it doesn't work at all, you are still great as an artist/writer. :)

Hope that helped.

[neotula]

see. i like long hair, style wise! i have real pretty hair! but the feeling of my own hair against my head is literally the worst feeling. assuming there are zero other sensations bothering me, my hair is always there, a sort of baseline static driving me bonkers.

i can tune it out a good percentage of the time, but so much of my life is figuring out how to cut down on the static so i can make it through the day without getting burnt out. even that sort of baseline thing is a drain: it’s wearing on me, even if it’s just a little, and it’s such an easy thing to just cut it.

(also, when my hair is buzzed, it’s easier to wear wigs, because no wig cap needed! i can just pop that shit on there! i wear my wigs 90% more when my hair is buzzed!)

the real answer is to get, idk, a professional haircut that keeps my nice natural texture visible on top but short elsewhere but no one knows how to cut curly hair, and those who do charge so much money that it’s simply not something i’d pay for. i’ve cut my own hair for what, ten or so years? and while I’ve grown more daring with what i’ll do on my own, clippers still make me wary doing anything beyond an even cut on the whole head.

[marimbles]

Commissions open!

Tier 1: simple sketches—$15 base

Black and white or partial/low-opacity color

two characters: +$10

Tier 2: colored sketches—$25 base

full color with simple shading

two characters:+$15

Tier 3: full-render sketches—$35 base

full color, shading, environmental lighting, etc.

two characters: +$20

If interested, please DM me or email me at heymarimbles@gmail.com!

Reblogs appreciated💜 thank you!!

More details under the cut:

Will do:

fanart (miraculous ladybug, the owl house, and the legend of Zelda are my main fandoms, so those are the characters I’m most familiar with drawing, but other fandoms are also welcome!)

OCs/sonas (MUST provide references and detailed description)

real people (in my style)

ship art/light romance

Won’t do:

NSFW (or anything that feels too steamy to me djdjkd)

furry

mecha

gore

Other guidelines:

Prices are USD

Payment through PayPal or ko-fi

No price distinction between bust, half-body, and full-body

If you want more than two characters, we can talk about it!

Very simple background included in base price (like a solid color or gradient, a circle or square behind the character, etc). Anything else is negotiable depending on complexity.

Props and small companions (like kwami, palisman, pet, etc.) are negotiable depending on complexity.

These are sketches, so the lines will be somewhat rough and you may see structure lines underneath. If you are not satisfied with the level of cleanliness, I can clean it up a bit, but these tiers don’t include clean lineart. (If you do want clean lineart, though, we can talk about it!)

I tend to experiment a bit with my rendering tools/style, so if there’s a particular piece of mine you like and you want me to try to recreate that style, lmk!

References photos are super helpful! (And for OCs, they’re essential.)

If you’re interested in something that doesn’t fall under one of these tiers (like a comic, doodle dump, etc.), just talk to me and we might be able to figure something out :)

[slowlyfoggydestiny]

Five fucking hours on the hairdressers and I have spots almost white because they didn’t put enough color or good enough distributed and just found a hug ass patch where he didn’t do anything like no color nothing and is just fucking there