#am i the insane person for washing and putting away things

[certifieddilfenjoyer]

I need to vent this somewhere:

If I was working for Raphael like Korrilla, I would be going out of my way to satisfy him as my boss. I'd complete all of his tasks swiftly, so that he could give me more and I'd do them precisely so that he'd never be disappointed. I'd be on my 200% all the time and I would love and hate reporting back to him if he was alone, because I'd be freaking out of thrill and stress. I cannot phantom how absolutely gorgeous this man is, (personally!!!) his human eyes-eyelashes-brows-hair combo is doing insane things to me, there is not a single spot on his face or his entire form I would not like. Larian extracted an essence from a lab just to enslave, chain my soul forever. They didn't lie in terms and conditions, I really did sign my soul away but I had no idea it would be Raphael when I first bought the game. Hell, I didn't even know he existed. And he hit me like boyfriend hitting you with a frying pan ASMR

I can't get him out of my system and I am literally going back to the same scenes with him and I still can't get over how beautiful he is. I am mesmerised, fascinated, pissed off at what he did to Hope, and also obsessed

I want to kiss every inch of his face and wash his hair and put it on my legs as he rests after his busy day. I can't fucking take it any longer

[prodbyton]

into you (l.at) TEASER

lee anton x fem reader | fluff | angst | smut | college!au | fake dating | ex friends to lovers | slowburn | mutual pining | anton is kind of an idiot.

teaser wc: 1.8k | full fic wc: est. 15k

RELEASE DATE: friday, march 1st

read full fic here

this is all too much. anton used to like you? how come he never said anything? you excused yourself from his parents, and made your way to the kitchen. 

“hey mom, i’m a little tired so im gonna head upstairs.” you walk in to her drying and putting away dishes, while anton washes them. he looks over you, noticing the tone in your voice along with the look on your face wasn’t because of fatigue, but that something was wrong. 

“okay baby, let me know if you need anything.” she walks to the end of the kitchen island where you were standing, giving you a hug goodnight. “anton, why don't you go with y/n upstairs? it's getting late, and I can finish up in the kitchen.” she turns from you to look at the boy scrubbing away at a pot, and he stops dead in his tracks at her words. 

“i was just going to head back with my parents once we finished,” he starts, looking at your mom and then at you, not wanting to intrude. he did want to talk to you, but he didn’t want to be in your space if you didn't want him there. 

“don't be silly, anton! you two are a couple and are old enough now, i don't have to separate you two” she laughs, and you and anton just stare at each other awkwardly. you were going to tell her to let it go, but because of the unique situation you two were in it was probably the best idea to follow your moms orders. you motion for him to follow you, you both saying goodnight to your mom and then to his parents. you’re walking towards the stairs to go to your room, when anton tells you that he’ll be back to get his bag out of his car.

while he grabs his things, you make your way up to your room. You leave the door open, just in case anton doesn't remember which room was yours. walking to your window, you open it and stick your head out so you can get some fresh air.

what a night, you’re thinking to yourself. you need to calm down. with what happened on monday and what antons parents were telling you earlier, you were just too in your head. too much was happening too fast. why was this affecting you so much? and with that you hear footsteps coming into your room and then a door closing.

“are you alright? you looked a little flushed downstairs” the soft voice calls to you, and you know that its anton. 

you take a deep breath before turning to face him. “i'm fine. i am now, at least. I just kind of felt bad for lying right in my mom and your parents' faces. I had to get away from them” your voice is low while you speak, looking to the floor once again to avoid his eyes. he takes note of your body language, seeing that you’re a bit tense and awkward now but he doesn’t want to pry. 

“If you want i can sleep on the floor,” he’s placing his bag on the chair by your desk, grabbing something to change into for bed. 

“no, that's too uncomfortable. You can sleep on the bed” you say it in a way where its clear there's no room for debate, and he nods. 

anton would never admit it to you, but he found you severely intimidating. even when you two were younger, he was always intimidated by you. you carried yourself well, you didn’t take bullshit from anyone, always got your way, and you were stubborn. he was surprised your personalities didn't clash, he felt like you wouldn't want to be friends with someone like him. but truthfully that's what brought you two together. it was like fire and ice, you were the fire and he was the ice to cool you down.

but with being the ice, he was too scared to touch you in fear that he would melt. 

another week passes by, and you feel like you were going insane. You don't know what it is, but every time you see anton, your heart starts racing, your face heats up along with the rest of your body. 

when he holds your hand or rests his hand on your thigh when you two were out with friends, you had to keep your composure to the best of your ability. especially when he would subconsciously  graze his thumb across the back of your hand, the action small and going unnoticed to the naked eye, but feeling too intimate for you and you would pull your hand away. 

the days that he would come over to your apartment or you would go to his dorm to hang out after classes, you found yourself feeling nervous. especially when you two were at your place, seeing him in your room and in your bed had you feeling like jelly. sometimes he would fall asleep before you, and you wouldn’t wake him up. It would be late, and you would feel bad for waking him up and making him go back to his dorm. you were comfortable enough around him anyways to tell him to move, and he never slept too close to you throughout those nights. a deep part of you wished he did, though. but you don't want to think about crossing that path yet. 

a few more days passed, and on wednesday, you went with him to his swim practice so you two could go back to your apartment and order takeout once he was finished. you brought a book with you since you didn’t know much about swimming, and you wanted to keep yourself occupied while you waited. 

an hour of practice goes by and lets just say, not a single page of the book you brought with you was read. not like you would be able to focus on reading anyways, seeing how he swam in the water was a lot more entertaining than you thought. along with how he looked when he pushed himself out of the water, full body on display. His broad shoulders, his toned arms and stomach, the droplets of water dripping from his hair down his back, the way he throws his head back to move his hair out of his face-

wait a damn minute.

you needed to leave, feeling hot suddenly. were you really sitting here thirsting over anton? Of course, you always found him attractive. you would be silly if you didn't. But you never had any thoughts about him. and you don't want right now, in the campus pool, to be where you start. You walk down the bleachers, trying to think of an excuse of why you’re leaving the building.

“y/n? you leaving?” anton catches you before you could find him, you turn around to see him speed walking towards you and you almost let out a giggle seeing he hasn't taken his goggles off.

“It’s just kind of humid in here. i'm gonna sit outside until you finish, okay?” you clutch your bag a bit tighter, him standing wet and shirtless in front of you is making you nervous. He’s peering down at you, smiling lightly before he lets you know he’ll be out in around 30 minutes. 

you nearly trip on your way out, feeling refreshed once you finally escape the pool room air.

did you really want to date anton? you told yourself you didn't before, but now you weren't so sure. he was the full package, everything you could ask for in a guy. so there was really nothing stopping you. but you two were friends. 

he also used to like you back in grade school. key word: used to. What if he completely got over you and wouldn’t even think about dating you now? this was a tough situation, and you don't know how much longer you could keep this up with repressed feelings. 

after 10 more minutes of overthinking, you can feel a presence behind you so you quickly turn your body to see anton right behind you. 

“you ready?” he’s looking down at you again, hair slightly covering his eyes because of the beanie he wore. his body once again covered up by the baggy hoodie along with the black sweatpants he wore. You would never be able to guess how built he really was under the clothes he chose to wear.

you realize you might be staring a little too hard for a little too long so you give him a nod. “yeah, let's go” and he’s taking you by the hand while you follow him to his car.

 he drives you two to the nearest food place you guys could agree on. you two agree on getting wings for tonight, and then make your way to your apartment. once you enter, you see sky sitting in the living room. she gives you a look only you two would be able to understand, with anton right behind you.

sky greets you two, and anton greets her back while you take off your shoes and then make your way into the kitchen. you grab two sodas, and walk out to where anton was standing. he was usually a bit awkward around your apartment if you weren’t telling him where to go, too scared that he would touch something he shouldn’t. 

following you to your room with the food, anton shuts the door softly behind him. the boy was already in comfortable clothes, taking a shower before he left the locker rooms after practice and made sure that he brought something he wouldn't be uncomfortable in. You were still wearing a pair of jeans and a cute crop top under a zip up hoodie. 

“i'm gonna change in the bathroom, you can pull the food out and put something on the tv,” you tell the boy sitting on your bed, and he hums in response while you leave the room. walking over to the bathroom down the hall, you take this time to relax yourself. 

you quickly change into a pair of shorts and an old tshirt, and you walk further down the hall to the living room to quickly talk to sky. 

“are you fucking him tonight? let me know so i can put in my headpho- ow!” you pinched her arm before she could finish her sentence.  

“i am not fucking him! i just came out here to tell you that i'm gonna talk to him about it”

“okay, but if there's a change of plans let me know!”

truthfully you were going to tell him about your feelings, just not tonight. maybe friday, you got invited to a party that sohee was throwing at his frat and you know that anton will be there too.

you walk back into your room now, seeing the food laid out and a movie ready for you as you get situated next to anton on your bed. he put on some action movie, which was a genre you both equally enjoyed. being around anton was comfortable. you two were able to sit in silence, laugh, and talk without any judgments. 

This could either end really good or really, really bad.

A/N: excited to post this one, its not finished yet but its almost there! i got the idea for this fic from the proposal, one of my favorite movies. lmk what you guys think and if you want to be apart of the taglist :p

[glamaphonic]

i don't post a ton about izzy hands bcs, being real, i just don't care that much about him, and frankly, i find the obsessive fixation on him both predictable and annoying.

but it's my blog and i have thoughts that, because of the person that i am, are going to be expressed in the form of a character breakdown. i promise it is as discourse-free as i could possibly make it, but obviously if you don't want to read my examination of izzy hands' motivations as a character then...don't.

i feel like there's a very widespread misapprehension of said character and motivations, and indeed it's a misapprehension that i predicted way last year, and one that helps contribute to a wealth of repetitive arguments and discourse about the character that i am assiduously attempting to avoid in this post. (i am not, btw, proposing any sort of "solution" here; people can argue about whatever they want.)

in short, there's a tendency in meta and fic to take a singular aspect of subtext (izzy is into blackbeard) and center it as the character's primary (and often sole) motivation. and then, to work from there to recontextualize and reimagine and reinvent everything around that assumption.

but the show and the character straight up stop making sense when you do that. because izzy's primary motivation is categorically not desire for blackbeard.

his primary motivation, textually, is that he wants to be captain.

if i was at work and breaking down his GMC as an antagonist in s1 it would be:

g(oal): get rid of stede so that ed can retire

m(otivation): become captain

c(onflict): he is continually prevented from getting rid of stede, primarily by ed

and as happens in well-constructed narratives everything he does for most of the season revolves around this gmc.

to slide into the character section: izzy is, fundamentally, both hungry for power and bad at actually wielding power. izzy cares, more than anything, about his job and being at the top of the field in that job.

in 1x04, he tells ed to his face that he thinks ed's a washed up has-been who izzy has only continued to work for because of the clout that comes with working for the legendary blackbeard. this is because, as we've seen him mention to fang and ivan, he reads ed's increasing disinterest in and boredom with his job, and potentially the attendant depression, as ed having gone "half-insane" and no longer living up to that ideal. izzy later takes this back when ed has once again proven himself capable of pulling off a typical blackbeard miracle, of being the master of the work that izzy venerates. and then ed dangles izzy's heart's desire before him. if ed can retire, then izzy no longer has to suffice with being second-in-command to the biggest, baddest pirate. he can have the mantle passed to him. he can be the master of the work.

but of course, necessary to this plan, as ed presents it, is that stede must die.

and that's what izzy spends the rest of the season trying to accomplish.

to suppose that izzy is primarily acting against stede out of jealousy over thwarted romantic hopes, as the point of a love triangle trying to get rid of his rival, as someone who is desperately trying to have ed's attention redirected at him, is to suppose that he is actively seeking an end-state directly in opposition to his own goals.

because if stede dies, things don't return to the status quo, izzy doesn't get ed "back" to continue alongside him in perpetuity, and he certainly doesn't get the affection and adoration that ed has never before demonstrated towards anyone (nor do i think he even wants it, but that's a whole other analysis). the terms as they were laid out and as izzy continuously pushes ed to fulfill are that stede dies, ed goes away forever, and izzy gets a boat and a captaincy. that is what izzy explicitly wants.

and yes, as ed falls in love with stede, izzy is disgusted by what he sees as ed being corrupted by someone beneath him, turned into some "thing" that deserves to be put down. and yes, he wants to avoid the legendary blackbeard being brought low, be it by stede bonnet's influence or an english ambush. and, yes, repressed gay jealousy is definitely an aspect of izzy's overall dislike of stede, in particular.

but these things are secondary and tertiary, respectively, to izzy's immediate motivations and goals.

he stays in 1x04 because ed offers him a captaincy. he pushes ed to kill stede in 1x06 because it's the plan that will lead to him being captain. he narks to the english because they will give him a boat and a captaincy for it (plus he swore to make ed regret not following through with the original plan that would give him a boat and a captaincy). and he's happy as a clam in 1x09, even though stede isn't actually dead and ed has undermined the legend of blackbeard by signing the act of grace, because his primary goal has been fulfilled. izzy is now captain of his own boat.

and in 1x10 the sole alteration in izzy's motivation all season occurs. he realized his power-hungry dreams, but his regrettable incapacity at wielding power comes back to bite him. after he's mutinied in short order, and his life is saved solely by ed's presence and authority, he's left with limited choices (within the scope of his characterization).

he can leave and go it alone; attempt to climb the ranks again elsewhere, and eventually perhaps meet that same end he just narrowly avoided.

or he can try to go back to how things were before, try to once again achieve the highest strata he ever had: right-hand man to the legendary blackbeard. secure in the knowledge that not only is this a top position in the field, but that, barring all else, blackbeard's power and authority are sufficient to keep him safe from the machinations of the crew.

but of course, in izzy's mind, for all that to happen blackbeard has to actually be blackbeard. and well we need not rehash his opinions on that.

so yeah, gay jealousy over ed? definitely a thing izzy feels, imo, if deeply repressed.

but is it his actual motivation for almost anything he does throughout the season? demonstrably not, or else he would've made some very different decisions.

anyway this is all basically just a rehash of this conversation, but i was noodling on it so.

[ohanny]

so @cryingatships posted about pit babe cam boy au ideas (the north and sonic one will flourish in my brain rent free for the next forever) which reminded me i also wrote one for kenta and kim way back when and i just want to add to their genius because we need more spicy pit babe ideas

again, gets nsfw below the cut:

where introvert kenta finally moves out of his dad’s house and finds a room to rent for suspiciously cheap in a suspiciously nice apartment. he asks some questions because he's not stupid but kim’s all "don't worry, i can afford it and to be honest, i kinda get lonely” and well, it is a really good deal. how likely is it that kenta would end up living with a human trafficking evil overlord twice, anyway? like kim literally could not be worse than his father.

their cohabitation works brilliantly but after two months of living together, kenta comes home from work early to discover the reason why kim can afford their rental agreement and seems to have all the time in the world for his hobbies is not because he's some nepo baby but because he has an insanely lucrative career as a cam boy and an only fans star. because there kim is, dressed in a sheer robe and stockings, washing a sparkly pink dildo in the middle of their open kitchen.

kim, defiant: i am not ashamed of what i do and if it bothers you, you can move out.

kenta whose brain has blue screened and is currently making beep boop noises: gah 

but once kenta manages to stammer out he is fine with kim’s chosen career, kim stops hiding. partly because he's a petty bitch and wants to see if kenta is actually fine with it or if he's a closeted homophobe who really likes cheap rent and partly because sneaking around his own home is super annoying and he would much rather do his make up in the living room because the big windows provide the best light. also, it would be super helpful if kenta could lend him a hand with his lighting system because it takes ages to figure out all the angles alone.

kenta is totally having a crisis because kim is just so confident and self-assured and after he finishes filming, he will sit in the living room eating pizza in old sweats, regaling kenta with tales of cringy comments from old men and other streaming misfortunes from buying the most disgustingly tasting flavored lube to getting a cramp in the middle of riding his toys.

but then one evening kenta comes home to kim stabbing a salad, looking sulky, and he’s like “what, no pizza tonight?” and kim rolls his eyes and explains one of his top donors made a comment about how he's been gaining weight lately with a self-deprecating “i guess i got a bit too carried away with the take out and beer with you.”

kenta is offended. he might go on a little rant about how that man must be blind on top of an absolute imbecile and should go fuck himself for a change and kim is beautiful no matter what he eats and in kenta’s personal opinion actually looks much better now compared to the rail thin twink thing he had going on when kenta first moved in. kim stares up at him, wide eyed and in awe.

kenta, blushing and starting to stutter again: anyway… no one should be allowed to tell anyone what to do with their bodies and you should just block them because you don't need someone like that in your space and i will just go to my room now bye

kim, jumping to his feet to grab kenta: the fuck you are, come here -

and yes, they kiss and it's amazing but kim is still hesitant because “you're really okay with all this? because i don't plan on stopping anytime soon, i like what i do” and kenta sheepishly admits that he sometimes watches kim’s streams on a burner account.

kim: you know you'd get a much better view on the other side of the wall?

kenta: oh.

kim: that was an invitation, dummy.

kenta: OH

kim is right. the view is so much better on the other side of the wall. kim is stunning and looks and sounds so fucking good and having kenta there is totally helping him get in the mood and put on an even better show. if the live chat gets a rising frequency of comments along the lines of “is it just me or is kim looking at someone behind the camera?” well, it adds to the mystique?

and really, it's inevitable that - once he gets comfortable - kenta snaps in a moment of horny insanity and ends up revealing himself. it's friday and kim is on all fours, fucking himself with the infamous pink, sparkly dildo but he’s not able to reach quite right and he keeps begging and cursing at the camera and kenta’s brain just goes “well, i could help.” he doesn't think. he just gets out of his chair, ducks past the camera and swats kim’s hand away to grab the base of the dildo and then smoothly slides it all the way in.

it’s only when kim’s arms give out and he slumps down with a guttural moan that kenta realizes they’re still very much live. he snatches his hand back but before he can stumble completely out of the frame, kim whines “fuck, come back, sorry guys but i don't give a shit” into the pillow and the chat goes WILD when kenta is helpless to do anything other what he's told. he uses the dildo to fuck kim into, through and past a devastating prostate orgasm and once he has regained his senses, kim ends the stream with a breathless giggle and a “sorry to cut the outro tonight but clearly me and my roommate need to have a talk.”

kenta: roommate?

kim: i mean, i'd prefer boyfriend because i'm pretty sure i'm in love with you but -

kenta: boyfriend sounds good.

and they live happily ever after. kenta helps kim with his accounts, clothes and photoshoots and on special occasions, joins his streams and videos. kim charges double for everything they do as a couple and all that extra money is certainly helping him in convincing kenta to quit the office job he's way too qualified for and find what he really wants to do in life. they adopt three cats and kenta moves all his things into kim’s room and everything is beautiful and nothing hurts.

[cardansriddle]

Gilded Serendipity - (tom riddle x oc)

Part 3/10: "False God"

Story summary: A summer meant to be spent in the tranquil seaside mansion of Rosier's was not supposed to sway hearts like rustling leaves. Sereia Nova was most definitely not supposed to feel drawn to Tom Riddle. Yet August had a way of weaving chaos and desire together, only to dissolve into the shadows, leaving behind a bittersweet aftermath- an ephemeral illusion of love.

(gif not mine)

PART 1 PART 2

chapter warnings: sensual themes.

A/N: took me a whileee but here is the third part!!

:☆ﾟ:☆ﾟ:☆ﾟ.

The subconscious was always a bitter thing. It liked playing wicked games with its owner, taking the things the person did not want to think about out of that pocket of forbidden thoughts and bringing it to the very front of the mind. 

Sereia was cursing her brain as she was hurriedly descending the stairs. Her mind was cruel, replaying the night before like a broken film reel, unrelenting in its vividity. She could still feel the ghost of his touch trailing illicit whispers along her skin. The shape of his lips haunted her own. 

She was going insane, and there was nothing she could do to put an end to it. With that one kiss, Tom had sunk his fangs deep into her vein, poisoning her blood with the feel of him so she would not dare forget it. Sereia had spent a good hour in the bath, scrubbing her skin raw until it was red and irritated, yet his touch remained imprinted. No amount of effort could wash away his claim.

"Merlin's beard, Ria, did you sleep at all? You look like...death." 

She huffed and shot him a sharp glare. "Not in the mood, Tony.""

"Woah, alright. Looks like someone woke up on the wrong side of the bed today." He grumbled, putting his hands up as if to surrender. The witch was half-tempted to hit him, but stopped when Walburga entered the room with a sly smirk curling on her lips.

"Who woke up in your bed?" She questioned. Her eyes flicked to Sereia, and they suddenly shone with mirth. "Our Sereia here? It was about time." 

Sereia's cheeks flushed at her comment, and she helplessly looked at Antoine to say something. But before he could utter a word, Avery strutted into the room.

"What was about time?" He asked lazily, barely attempting to cover his mouth as he yawned. "Well?"

"Sereia and Antoine here. Apparently they were up to no good last night." The brunette winked cheekily, and shot her an approving smile. "I must say, dear Ria, I did not know you had it in you. Always thought you were a prude."

Sereia was sure her whole face was the same shade as the maroon wine Avery was holding in his hand. The boy stared between them for a moment, before frowning. "Salazar's spit, Antoine. I wanted to woo her this summer." He paused, as if reconsidering, and then strode towards the girl. She barely registered more people filing into the room as he leaned closer to her. "But, I assure you, should you fall into my arms, I will make you see the stars. I am much better company in bed than Antoine."

"Avery, enough." Tony warned from next to her. 

Walburga laughed. "Well, Avery, Abraxas, you owe me ten galleons. They fucked before winter." 

I buried my face in my palms. "Tony!"

"Everyone, shut it. Sereia and I most definetely did not fuck. So please, shut your mouths."

"But—"

"You misheard, Walburga. She did not sleep in my bed. We are strictly platonic."

The girl seemed to recover from her embarassed state and added. "Exactly. It's more of a he's my brother type of situation and what you all are suggesting is— it's just gross."

She lifted her chin, attempting to rid herself of the embarassment and mortification that the conversation had caused. Straightening her spine, she regarded eeryone around her. They all looked either amused or confused. When her eyes met Riddle's, she had to surpress her shudder at the intensity behind his heated gaze. She could not quite read his expression, but the displeasure was as evident as ever. Flashes of the previous night suddenly invaded her mind, and she had to avert her gaze quickly lest she blushed once more. 

Clapping his hands, and snapping the girl from her brief memory lane, Antoine drew the attention to himself. "Great, let us end this conversation now!" He questioned from beside her, and she felt the ghost of his fingers brushing against her elbow in reassurance. Her gaze subconsciously saught Riddle's, and when she saw the dark look he was shooting to where Antoine's hand was touching, the girl stepped aside. Her friend shot her a confused look, but she just shrugged. 

"Can we eat now that that's settled?" She rose an expectant brow, gesturing towards the table that had already been set and filled with food. Avery was the first to break the pregnant silence, huffing and puffing about how he was starving. Seria shared a look with Antoine before following Avery's lead and taking a seat. As she placed some fruits onto her plate, the chair beside her was pulled back and she could feel before she could see that it was Riddle. It was bizarre— the way she could simply feel the air still whenever she was in his presence. It was like the very atmosphere was telling— no— warning her that he was near, that she should brace herself to face him.

His clothed arm brushed hers as he shifted, and the girl had to resist the urge to shiver. 

"Salazar's spit, Riddle, are you not parched in those clothes?" Antoine suddenly questioned, and suddenly all eyes were on the wizard. 

"Some people have the decency not to walk around naked, Rosier. Perhaps you should take notes." Walburga muttered snidely. 

"It was the middle of the night! Am I supposed to walk in a whole three-piece suit at the crack of dawn?"

"A shirt and sleeping pants would suffice." 

"Can you cut it out? This is making me lose my appetite." Abraxas grumbled abruptly, his voice slicing through the escalating bickering. A smirk of triumph flashed across his face as the table fell into a silence. He grabbed his cutlery and digged into his breakfast aggressively. 

Sereia, feeling a lack of appetite, mechanically nibbled on assorted fruits. She tuned out Lestrange and Rosier as they began squabbling again about another matter she did not care to know. She was about to reach for her goblet when a warm breath tickled her cheek, drawing her attention.

"Had I known you'd run to Rosier to finish what I started, perhaps I would not have let you slip away so easily, little siren." Tom whispered lowly, Tom murmured, his lips grazing the curve of her ear with each syllable. The girl try as she might, could not help the shudder that ran through her body.

He noticed. Of course, he did. He never missed a thing. Yet, before he could revel in his discernment, she retorted, her voice a low hiss meant to avoid alarming the others nearby. "How dare you?" she countered, struggling to keep her voice subdued. She truly could not believe the nerve of him to imply such a thing. "I did not run to anyone. Antoine and I certainly did not spend the night together, so I'd appreciate if you refrained from implying that I'm a whore."

"I never said that." 

"You implied it."

"I did not."

"Whatever. But if we are talking about whores, why not talk about you?" She turned her head to meet his gaze squarely. "You are the resident whore of Hogwarts, perhaps second place to Avery, or maybe you just hide it better." She watched as surprise flickered across his features for a fleeting moment before he swiftly masked it, as if it had never been there at all. "I will not be a plaything, Riddle. While you may find amusement in Walburga, you will not find me so compliant," she declared, her tone firm, before redirecting her attention to the others at the table. Meanwhile, Tom studied her profile, a barely perceptible smirk tugging at his lips. She was a fiery little thing, and oh how he relished a challenge. 

Not used not having the last word, he leaned to whisper in her ear once again. "You may resist all you want, but I will have you succumb to me." he murmured, his gaze searching her face for a reaction. She responded with a smirk, but she did not deign to meet his eyes. 

"Maybe I will consider it... if you beg."

He laughed loudly at that, genuinely amused at her bravery. Everyone at the table suddenly diverted their attention towards them, disbelief flashing across their features at seeing Riddle laugh. 

"Is he—"

"Salazar's spit..."

"What's so funny?"

Tom hummed softly, a languid smile lingering on his lips as he casually draped an arm over the back of Sereia's chair. She clenched her teeth in frustration at his nearness, struggling to push aside the unwelcome flood of thoughts crowding her mind. "Miss Nova here has a good sense of humour, that is all." 

Sereia lowered her gaze, avoiding the curious stares of those around her, and brought her goblet to her lips in a feeble attempt to distract herself. 

"Sereia—"

The girl sprung from her seat with far more enthusiasm than was necessary. "Time to go for a swim!" she declared with a forced smile, her discomfort palpable, before hastily departing from the table, nearly breaking into a run as she fled the house.

Walburga's gaze shifted to Tom, flickering between the self-satisfied, lazy grin etched on his face and the intensity of his gaze fixed on the doorway through which Sereia had hastily departed through mere moments ago.

"Look at little Sereia starting to charm boys." Abraxas snorted, looking at Antoine with a mirthful smile. "You will have to work overtime to ward off the boys now, mate." 

"Shut it. I do not do anything of the sort. She is free to court whomever she likes whenever she likes." He paused, rethinking his words. "Except you all."

"Really? How about the time in third year you hexed Arnold because he kissed her on the cheek?" Avery rose a brow.

"Or the time in fourth year you petrified that git who was going on a date with her?" Malfoy added.

"Remember when—"

"Alright! Alright! So fucking be it! None of you are allowed to pursue anything romantic, sexual— especially sexual— relations with her. Off-limits!" 

"Mate, that's unfair! She's not even your sister, you can't put a ban like that!" Avery whined, rolling his eyes in a very exaggerated manner. 

"She is like my little sister in every manner except by blood."

Dahlia Greengrass pouted, looking affronted at the way the wizards were behaving. "Leave it be, everyone. Would you rather ruin your friendship with Antoine by pursuing Sereia? The entirety is Hogwarts isn't enough for you all to corrupt?" She questioned. "Leave the poor girl alone."

Riddle observed the scene unfolding with a curious glint in his eyes. 

"Thank you, Dahlia." Antoine said gratefully. "Now that everything is loud and clear, let's go join Ria before she starts wondering what took us so long." 

Everyone muttered their agreement as they stood.

"Tom, would you like to head to the library first?" Walburga asked as everyone started filing out of the room. 

Tom glanced at the witch momentarily before looking away distractedly. "I shall like to rest for a bit before rejoining the company." He did not wait for a reply before striding away in the opposite direction.

Walburga watched his retreating back, the familiar bitter taste feeling her mouth as it always did whenever he disregarded her in such a belittling manner. She begrudgingly followed after the group, glancing back one last time in hopes that Tom also would, but he had already disappeared up the stairs, and the girl heaved a sigh in disappointment. 

Her sharp gaze fixated on the distant figure, observing as the girl who managed to coax a rare laugh from Tom Riddle swam gracefully in the water. Sereia Nova had never posed a threat in her mind. Antoine's best friend had always been a sweet little thing, too pure to be around the likes of them. Though Walburga harbored fondness for the girl, her desires lay elsewhere — with Tom Riddle. 

She pondered the allure that Sereia held for Tom. Was it her innocence, her sweetness? Or was she simply another conquest in his relentless pursuit to tarnish purity? Perhaps, she mused, innocence was a challenge for him, something to be conquered and corrupted at his whim.

At least that is what Walburga told herself as she smiled bittersweetly at the younger witch.

:☆ﾟ:☆ﾟ:☆ﾟ.

"Ria." Antoine began, his tone firm, signaling to Sereia that a lecture was imminent. 

"I know what you're going to say, but it's nothing alright? I am not involved with Riddle...like that." Sereia interjected, her words rushed and defensive, preempting Antoine's anticipated disapproval.

Antoine's furrowed brow softened slightly, but skepticism still lingered in his gaze. With a resigned sigh, he conceded, "I will choose to take your word for it. But I will tell you this, Ria— my friends are all off-limits. They are the worst pick of the bunch for any girl." He paused, as if another thought had just invaded his already disturbed mind. "Actually, just do not go for any Slytherins. You can go for uh...Hufflepuff perhaps? They do not have a bad bone in their body. Be kind and all that shite, yeah? Yeah. No Gryffindorks either I suppose, they're all gits—"

"Tony!"

"What?"

"Would you like to arrange who I will be marrying too? Stop acting like my father. Fine, I will not date your friends out of my respect for you, but other than that you have no right to dictate who I can and can't date."

"But—"  Antoine began to protest, but Sereia cut him off with a firm stare.

"Dahlia!" Sereia's sharp call drew the attention of the girl, who began to swim over with a curious expression. Sereia shot a warning look at Antoine, silently telling him to behave.

"Yes, darling?" 

"Nothing. It's just an effective way of shutting him up." Sereia smirked, her eyes twinkling mischievously.

"What is?"

"Any mention of you." 

As Dahlia's cheeks flushed with a soft hue of pink, Antoine's face transformed into a vivid crimson, the color spreading like wildfire across his features. Sereia couldn't suppress a satisfied grin as she watched the effect of her diversion tactic unfold. "Well, I'll leave you be. It's time for my nap!" 

"You just woke up!"

"Nope, that was a while ago." "Nope, that was a while ago," she singsonged, her voice carrying over the gentle lapping of the waves as she began trudging out of the water, droplets cascading from her form like shimmering diamonds. Her eyes met Avery's across the distance, his grin mirroring her own playful one as he responded with a mock salute, the sun casting playful glimmers in his eyes.

As she approached the shore, she glanced over her shoulder at the call of her name, catching Abraxas's gaze, his eyes alight with something she could not decipher as he swam towards her, his sleek form slicing effortlessly through the water. His expression morphed into a sickly sweet smile as he drew nearer.

"My dear, dear Sereia," he greeted her with exaggerated warmth, his voice dripping with faux sincerity.

"What is it?" Sereia replied, her tone laced with playful anticipation, already bracing herself for his inevitable request.

"Would you be so kind and bring us a wine?"

Sereia raised an eyebrow. "Why don't you ask one of the house elves?"

"You see, I'm craving a particular one and seeing as the creatures can't read...it complicates things. Can you get me the Chateau d'Yquem?"

Sereia couldn't help but laugh at his audacity, her playful demeanor unwavering. "Does Antoine know you're drinking his most expensive reserves dry?" she retorted, her tone teasing

Abraxas replied with a casual shrug, his smile unapologetic. "He encourages it"

Sereia rolled her eyes. "Alright. But know that you are very annoying." She conceded, her words accompanied by a playful splash in his direction.

"Thank you, Sereia," Abraxas replied, his sweet smile bordering on saccharine as he watched her depart, a twinkle of mischief gleaming in his eyes. Sereia narrowed her eyes at him suspiciously before turning on her heel and heading out of the water. She quickly slipped on her sheer beach cover over her wet swimsuit, debating whether to change into dry clothes or return to the water after fulfilling Abraxas' request. 

She hummed a random melody as she walked away from the private beach and slipped into the garden that lead to the winery, running her hands through her wet hair and slicking it back. 

She trekked the familiar path through the greenery, each step accompanied by the gentle rustle of leaves in the warm breeze. The summer sun cast golden rays that danced across her skin, warming her with its tender caress. As she neared the fountain, its marble basin shimmered in the sunlight and the girl resisted the urge to dip her fingers into the cool water. 

"Out for a stroll, little siren?" A familiar voice, smooth as silk and laced with a taunting edge, shattered the serenity of her surroundings. 

Her movements stilled, her senses alert to the presence behind her. She hesitated to turn, wary of facing the figure who she had been trying to cast out of her mind. She knew as soon as she met his eyes the thoughts of yesterday's kiss would come back to haunt her once again—or the bold teasing she had unabashedly engaged in during breakfast.

With a steadying breath, she shut her eyes, grappling with the urge to flee or confront him. Before she could decide, a warm breath ghosted over her neck, sending a shiver down her spine. Tom had drawn closer, his proximity suffusing her with a mixture of apprehension and something she dared not name.

"Or have you come to see me beg?" He murmured into her ear. 

Suppressing the rising panic in her chest, she attempted to step away, only to find his hand firmly encircling her waist, anchoring her in place. Her breath caught in her throat as his touch ignited a flurry of conflicting emotions within her. Her gaze dropped to the hand sliding further until his entire arm covered her stomach. 

"Unhand me, Riddle. I am just going to the winery." Sereia tried to protest against his advances, her voice twinged with defiance that wavered due to his proximity.

"Are you now?" He asked, and even though she could not see him, she could feel the amused smirk that was no doubt on his face. 

"Yea—Yes. I am expected to return." She insisted.

Tom hummed, a low, tantalizing sound that sent a tremor through her core. "What a shame," he murmured, his breath warm against her skin. Just as she thought he was going to let her go, he abruptly spun her around to face him. Caught off guard, she stumbled, her heart pounding erratically as she braced her hands against his chest lest she crashed into him. "You will not be going back anytime soon."

"What?"

"Can't have you running to Rosier to finish what I started. That would make me unseemly would it not?"

"Riddle, what are you say—"

"It would create the impression that I leave a lady unsatisfied. Which is insulting." His lips brushed hers with every syllable, and Sereia was finding it harder by the second to resist the temptation of him. She desperately willed herself to push him away and leave before the situation would escalate any further. But she was immobilised. He had her right where he wanted, and her traitorous body was craving him. Any further protest was cut short as his lips captured hers in a searing kiss and she found it bothersome how she did not hesitate to kiss him back. 

His lips moved with a fervent urgency, coaxing a response from her that she couldn't deny. Each brush of his mouth against hers sent shockwaves of pleasure coursing through her, erasing whatever had remnants of rational thought. 

Her hands moved on their own accord, sliding over his chest, collarbones, and moving up to tangle themselves in his dark hair. He groaned as she tugged at his locks and the world around her fell away at the guttural sound. His kiss was a tempest, fierce and consuming, igniting a fire within her that blazed with undeniable fervor. She yielded to him, her senses overwhelmed by the heady rush of his touch, every nerve in her body electrified.

His hand moved to the hem of sheer cover dress, fingers brushing against her inner thighs before bunching up the fabric and tugging it upwards. Tom stepped towards her, forcing her to blindly walk backwards until she felt marble digging into her back. He broke away from the kiss to momentarily lift her to sit on the edge of the fountain. 

Sereia suppressed a whine at the loss of contact, but a loud moan escaped her throat when his lips fell to the hollow of her throat and sucked, no doubt leaving a bruise with his ministrations. She should have told him to stop— or at the very least not mark her up for all to see, but she found she did not care. She wanted—no— needed more of him. 

Her fingers dropped to the buttons of his shirt, fumbling, trying to pull them open. She had only gotten half of them undone when he grabbed her wrists. "No." He panted. "This time I will make you beg. We can save that for next time."

Sereia was confused, but was quick to retort. "What makes you think there is going to be a next time?" She asked through laboured breaths, dazed eyes roving over his dilated pupils and his swollen lips. For the first time ever, he looked like a mess, and Sereia could not get enough of the sight. 

Tom only smirked in response, his fingers going under her cover to pull at the strings of her bikini bottoms. She trembled beneath his touch, her pulse racing with a heady mix of anticipation and desire. 

"Because I am going to make you beg for a next time."

Sereia's jaw dropped when he sunk to his knees, his eyes ablaze with an intensity that sent shivers down her spine. 

:☆ﾟ:☆ﾟ:☆ﾟ.

[choke-me-joey]

Ch1/ Ch2 /

Summary: As Joe's long-term girlfriend, you reflect on your relationship over the last 4 years.

Content warning: 18+ so minors are not welcome, real person fiction (don't like, don't read, don't bitch), smut, fluff, angst, probably inaccurate timelines and processes but does anyone really care?, alcohol use, smoking...if I've missed anything please let me know!!

Author's note: okay so I was not expecting people to like this as much as they did 🥹 so here is chapter 2!! I'm currently juggling this, Hoe-vember and Matching Tattoos part 2 sp bear with if there are mistakes! I originally wrote this in first person (ick) so if you see any 'I' or 'my'.....mind ya business 🫣

London, England

September 2018

"-mum, I've really got to go, I'm running late...yeah, yeah, yeah, I'll make sure to call her, okay? Bye, mum, love you!"

You hang up the call and groan in frustration, shoving your phone in your bag with one hand, balancing your coffee and your Oyster card in the other. You manage to get through the gate without causing too much of a hold up, bolting down the escalator to the platform.

"Fuck!" You growl, as the train you were running for left the platform within seconds of your feet touching the ground. You sigh, taking a seat on the grubby bench and waiting for the next one, which, thankfully what with this being London and all, wasn't long.

You jump up, protecting your bag and coffee as you get on the already insanely crowded train. You look around desperately for a seat, of which there were none, so you stand in between a very miserable looking middle aged woman and a taller guy with curly brown hair. He has his back to you, engulfed on his phone. You squeezed in and took a hold of the bar above your head as the train began to move.

You stare awkwardly ahead of you, sipping your coffee with your free hand, being careful not to bump curly haired guy with your arm. As the train approaches your station and slows, people scramble towards the door. You wait patiently rather than getting caught in the sea of people.

You don't notice curly hair guy next to you moving his arm to put his phone in his back pocket, and before you know it you’ve been elbowed in the boob at a rather vicious velocity. The pain that follows makes you want to cry.

"Fuck!" You hiss, and the knee jerk reaction to jump away from whatever has just hit you causes you to spill your 'travel friendly' coffee cup and its contents all over your jacket. The cup crashes to the floor and everyone stares. "Oh shit!" You curse, staring down at your stained jacket.

"Oh shit, I'm so sorry. Are you okay? Oh shit, here let me-"

The guy bends down and picks up your cup, handing it back to you. You look up from the damage to your jacket and into the most beautiful pair of big, brown eyes you have ever seen.

"Thanks," you mumble, taking the cup back from him. The next thing you know the doors have closed and the train is moving again. "Oh goddamn it!"

"I am so, so sorry." The guy next to you says again, looking extremely guilty as coffee practically drips off you. Luckily, a sweet old man hands you a pack of tissues, and you thank him, dabbing away at your clothes as best you can with the hand that wasn't holding your cup and bag. "Please, let me help, it's the least I can-"

"It's fine, really," you say, a little too quickly, and he looks a little hurt. You sigh, passing him your cup and bag. "If you run off with my stuff, I can't be held accountable for what I do." You warn him, and he chuckles, shooting you a smile that literally makes your knees go weak. Even though he almost de-boobed you and potentially ruined your favourite jacket, you can't help but think he is fucking gorgeous.

"I wouldn't blame you, to be honest," he says, still smiling. "Is it fucked?" He asks, his eyes flicking to your jacket.

"I dunno, if I'd have gotten off at my stop I would have been able to get home quicker to throw it in the washing machine and hope for the best," you sigh, almost reaching the end of the pack of tissues. A look of guilt flashes across his face again. "Sorry, I didn't mean to-"

"No, it's fine, I just feel really bad, it's a nice jacket." He bites his lip as you give up trying to dry yourself with the tissues, and take your stuff back from him. The train pulls into another station, and you figure you might as well get off here, and try to get home another way.

"Yeah, it is, but don't beat yourself up about it, accidents happen," you give him a reassuring smile, before getting off the train.

"Wait!" He yells, and you turn around on the platform, seeing him fight his way through the crowd of boarding and departing passengers. He stands in front of you awkwardly. "Um, listen, let me get your jacket dry cleaned for you, to apologise?"

You frown slightly.

"Honestly, it's fine..." you trail off, realising you don't know his name.

"Joe. And please, it'll make me feel less guilty for basically assaulting you."

You sigh, unable to stop a smile spreading across your face. He really was too adorable.

And hot as fuck.

"You're not going to take no for an answer, are you?" You smirk, and he returns it.

"Nope."

"Fine," you roll my eyes dramatically, peeling off your jacket and handing it to him.

"Can I get your number?" He asks, and you're a little taken aback at his confidence.

"Excuse me?"

"I-I'll need to let you know when it's clean and stuff, so I can return it to you," he's blushing now, and you swear your heart is melting. "That's all, i swear I'm not some pervy creep."

"Hmm, I'm pretty sure a pervy creep would say he's not a pervy creep to try and persuade people he's not a pervy creep," you muse, and he laughs, loudly. "But, I'll trust you."

He grins, handing you his phone for ypu to put your number in, under the name "Underground Boob Victim". Once you're done, you pass it back to him, he laughs loudly at the name and then puts his phone back in his pocket. "Okay, well, i should really get going, but thank you, Joe. Just drop me a text or something and I'll meet you to grab my jacket back. It was nice to meet you, despite the whole GBH thing." You tease, hitching your bag up on your shoulder, offering your hand out to him. "I'm Y/N, by the way."

"You mean to tell me Underground Boob Victim isn't your real name?" He smirks and I shrug.

"It's a bit of a mouthful so Y/N is a much easier nickname." You wink, and he laughs again, making you giggle.

"Well, was nice to meet you too, Y/N, sorry again." He takes your hand and shakes it, and you can feel your heart speeding up. "I'll speak to you soon."

--a few days later--

'Hey, it's Joe. Just to let you know your jacket is ready to pick up from the dry cleaner's, if you wanted to meet me in about 30 minutes?'

'Hi! Yeah that's great, thank you so much!'

'It's cool. If you don't mind, i was thinking (ironically) maybe we could go for a coffee or a drink or something after we pick your jacket up? It's okay if you don't want to though!'

'Hmm i dont know if i trust you around any liquids that can stain fabric...but clear alcohol sounds life a safe bet. I'll be there soon!'

-- a week later, still September 2018--

"I'm freaking the fuck out."

"It's just dinner, Y/N. It's not like you've never been out with a guy before! Besides, you've already been out for drinks with him, technically this is your second date" Your best friend and flat mate Zoe is laid on your bed, currently watching you pace up and down your bedroom, chewing your nails as you do. "I swear to god if you don't stop chewing those nails I slaved over, I will end you."

"Sorry, sorry!" You quickly stick your hands in your pockets, sparing Zoe's hard work. "Well, firstly the drinks thing wasnt really a date, he was just giving me my jacket back and just so happened to ask me out. Amd secondly, this isn't just some guy, Zoe, he's like...really hot. And cute. And funny. And he's so easy to talk to. We ended up just chatting shit for two hours in a Starbucks the other day, totally unplanned. He was walking in as I was walking out."

"Cute, maybe you guys can move in together and I won't have to listen to you chat shit for hours every day." Zoe teases and you let out a sarcastic laugh.

"You're just jealous because you dont have anyone to chat your own brand of shit with right now." You tease back, laughing as she flips you off. "He lives with his best friend, maybe if tonight goes well we can double date?"

"If you set me up with a complete and utter loser whilst you make off with the hot one, I'm going to hurt you."

"I've seen a picture or two, he's pretty cute," you laugh, holding up a black roll neck jumper and black skinny jeans. "With my black heeled boots?"

"Perfect, it shows him just how soulless and depressing you really are. You know it wouldn't kill you to wear colour just once."

"Ugh, I would rather die." You mock retch before heading into the bathroom to change.

Forty minutes later, you're dressed and ready and in the back of a taxi headed to the restaurant you and Joe had agreed on, your heart feeling like it's going to burst out of your chest and your stomach churning with nerves. Your phone vibrates in your hand, it's Joe just texting to say he was already at the restaurant, waiting for you in the lobby. You swallow hard, before texting him back that you were on your way.

The taxi gets you to the restaurant exactly three minutes before 7.30pm, when your table was booked for. You spot Joe immediately as you step inside, dressed in a shirt and trousers. He looks up from his phone when he hears the door open and his eyes meet yours, and you both simultaneously break out into a grin.

"Hey," you walk over to him and give him a hug, as per your usual greeting. His usual cologne surrounds you, but it smells a little stronger tonight. He hugs you back just as tight. "Now I feel like I should have dressed up a bit more."

"Don't worry about it, you look really good." Joe assures me.

"Thank you, so do you." You can feel your cheeks warming a little to your utter frustration. Something about Joe always turned you into a fucking giggly schoolgirl on the inside, but on the outside thankfully, you managed to play it off. "Can we go get food now? I'm fucking starving."

Joe laughs loudly.

"I knew there was a reason I liked you."

***

"So, seeing as all our interactions have been totally random and unplanned, I think I should be totally cliché and say, tell me about yourself?" Joe smiles as you pass your menus back to the waiter, having just ordered your food.

"Well, I mean, I don't wanna send you to sleep before the food gets here." You joke, sipping on my glass of water. Joe chuckles, doing the same.

"That's fine, just wake me up when it does get here," he winks and you roll your eyes laughing. "No, I'm just joking, come on, I wanna know stuff about you. Like, what do you do for work? How long have you been living in London?"

"So basically you wanna play 20 Questions?"

"Yep, now go."

"Ugh, fine. I'm a freelance photographer but currently I'm doing a stint as a retoucher for a studio in Central London, I've been living here for a few years as I went to Uni here, but my friend Zoe and I have been renting a flat from her uncle since we graduated. I have a degree in Editorial Photography, I like horror movies and music...that's all I can think of right now...what about you?"

"Um, I'm an actor." He says, looking almost embarrassed. Your eyebrows raise.

"No way?! That's so cool! Anything I'd have seen you in?"

"Uh, maybe, I've been in a couple of TV series, I was in something called Dickensian a couple of years ago, a show called Timewasters, and then last year I was in Game Of Thrones and another series called Howard's End."

"Game of Thrones?? Holy shit, that...wait a minute, Dickensian...shit, I think I watched that with my parents over Christmas when it came out. Oh my god I can't believe I didn't recognise you!"

"Honestly, it's nice that you didn't." Joe admits. "I'm not that well known but I've had a couple of people stop me in the street and it's...bloody weird. Flattering, but weird."

You nod. "I can understand that. So, are you working on anything cool right now?"

"Well not right this second, but this year has been mental. I've done a couple of series and a got a lead in a small film." He grins, clearly less embarassed now.

You can't help but mirror his smile. The waiter comes back with your food and tells you to enjoy.

"So, I'm having dinner with a celebrity right now?" You tease, raising your eyebrow and smirking at him. He rolls his eyes and tells you to shut up, but he's smiling.

A few hours later, your main courses and desserts long gone, you're still sat in the restaurant, deep in conversation. You've covered everything from your childhoods, your favourite movies, tv shows, your families, music, food...the list was endless. As the restaurant closes, you call the waiter over to pay the bill. You rummage around in your bag, pulling out your purse.

"Don't let her pay you." Joe says to the waiter and you glare at him.

"Joe, its fine-"

"Hey, I asked you to come out with me right? Therefore I am paying." He argues, handing over his card to the extremely bored looking waiter, who disappears to get the card machine. "Don't look at me like that, what kind of prick would I be if I expected you to pay on a date?"

You say nothing, but you smile at him, putting your purse away. "If you really want to, you can pay next time."

"There's going to be a next time?" You ask, a teasing tone to your voice, but your inner giggly schoolgirl has practically dropped dead from excitement.

"Well, only if you want, I've had a really good time tonight." He admits, quickly pausing as the waiter comes back and prompts him to enter his card details. "Plus, I still feel guilty for the whole tube thing. But that's not why I asked you out. Fuck, that came out wrong-"

"Joe, its fine, I know what you meant," you laugh, as you stand up, ready to leave. You head outside, and he offers to walk you home, and you continue your discussion about everything under the sun, and more. The whole time, your heart would not calm the fuck down, and you were actually worried he could hear how hard it was beating, especially when his hand accidentally brushed yours.

He pulled his hand back quickly as if he'd been burnt.

"Sorry!" He mumbles, looking as guilty as he did when he elbowed me on the Tube. You can't help but laugh, reaching out and linking your fingers through his.

"There, the scary part's over." You wink at him and he immediately looks relieved, giving your hand a small squeeze. You continue to walk hand in hand to your flat, stopping in front of the steps when you inform him that this was your apartment building. "Thank you for tonight, it was really nice."

"You're welcome," Joe smiles, his fingers still laced with yours. His eyes drift upwards and slightly to the side. "I'm gonna guess that's your roommate?"

You follow his eyeline and sure enough, Zoe is sat in your bedroom window, waving down at you both, a shit eating grin on her face. You groan, rolling your eyes and flipping her off.

"I'm so sorry, I'm gonna murder her," you sigh, feeling mortified as Joe waves back, laughing loudly. "Don't encourage her!" You grab his waving hand and hold it by his side, failing to keep an angry face as you start laughing along with him. "Fuck, I'm sorry, you must think I'm so weird."

Joe raises an eyebrow at me.

"You do realise you're speaking with someone who makes a living from being dressed in bloody period clothing half the time, right?"

"Well actually no, I don't as I've not watched most of your stuff, so there," you grin, poking your tongue out at him. You eventually say goodnight, and he gives you a hug, which you note lasts a few seconds longer than usual. He lets you go, and you slowly walk up the steps to the main door. "Oh, Joe?" You call out as he begins to walk away. He stops and turns.

"Mm?"

"I'll pay next time." You smile, before heading inside and closing the door.

[fran-in-the-deep]

Hello. How are you?

I am glad you're taking up requests and I would like to make one. 🤗

If you have time, I would like to request a LEVI x Fem!Reader with Hurt/Comfort fic.

Thank you in advance and have a great day! 🍻

A/N: Thank you for the request and sorry it took so long - but here we are again. I decided for a Modern AU for this one, if you had something else in mind, feel free to let me know! Feels good to get back into writing again.

Levi x Fem!Reader | Hurt/Comfort | Modern AU | ~800 words

CW for mental health struggles, depression

Push off the blanket. Sit up. Breathe. Feet off the couch. Stand up. Wait a second for the blood circulation to regulate, for the dizziness to fade. Take your tea cup off the table. It’s not empty, a disgusting cold sludge left over from yesterday clinging to the bottom of the cup. Ignore it. Navigate across the room to the kitchen unit. Don’t cry. Set down the cup in the sink. Turn on the tap. Set it to warm. Pour the leftover liquid down the drain. Don’t cry. Take the dish washing liquid. Pour it into the cup. Check the water temperature. Don’t cry. Put the cup under the stream. Watch the foam build up. Watch the cup overflow. Don’t cry. Don’t cry. Take the sponge. Pick up the cup by the handle. Clean the inside of the cup. The water is getting too hot. Don’t cry. Put the sponge aside. Wipe away the tears in your eyes with your sleeve. Don’t cry. Rinse the cup. Don’t cry. Put the cup aside. Don’t cry. Turn off the tap. Don’t cry. Don’t.

The tap is dripping and you reach out to shut it off properly. Otherwise the sound of the drops hitting the metal texture of the sink ever two seconds might drive you insane. It takes you some time to notice that it’s not the water but your tears. So you’re crying again, it seems. You feel pathetic. A moment later there is a click in the door lock, you hear the key being turned around and then the door opens.

“I’m back.” Levis voice is quiet, as if trying to not disturb you. You hear the rustling of the grocery bags as he steps inside, looking around until he spots you. His expression changes, though you can’t tell what exactly it was.

“Hey, sorry.” What are you even apologizing for at this point? It was too late either way. Yet Levi just comes over, not even taking off his shoes or jacket. He sets down the two bags of groceries on the kitchen table, not breaking eye contact.

“You look like you need a hug.” He stated as if it was the most obvious thing in the world. Maybe it is, you aren’t exactly subtle. Not ever, no matter how hard you tried. You always expected he would be put off by it, yet here you are. Day two of him insisting for you to stay at his place until you feel better.

“Yeah, I think I do.” You don’t know whether you even could get better. Yet Levi hugs you as if you were the most precious person in the world. His arms wrapped around you, one hand at the back of your head, gently pulling you down to rest your head on his shoulder. You can feel his steady heartbeat, his chest rising and falling with every breath. He is so unbelievably warm.

“It’s alright.” A whispered reassurance from him. And even if just for this moment, you believe him. You keep holding onto him, but your grip becomes less desperate as you realize that he won’t let you go. He won’t leave you.

It was something he told you over and over again with every word and every little gesture. Every invitation to come over and spend time, every cup of tea you had together, the late night phone calls, the meals you shared. When Levi held you like this, maybe you weren’t such a bad person after all. Maybe you were worthy to be loved, after all.

“We’ll have some nice dinner together, sit on the couch, watch a stupid movie, okay?” Levi draws circles your back in an attempt to soothe you. You manage a weak nod against his shoulder and feel him pull you even closer. He won’t let go, won’t leave you. You let yourself relax against him and he keeps you steady. When he pulls away to press a gentle kiss to the top of your head, you hum quietly.

“I’m glad you’re here.” He tells you as if he hadn’t spend the last days moving heaven and earth to accommodate you, to make sure you were okay and felt safe. As if it wasn’t ton of work for him but the most self evident thing in the world to care for you to this extend.

But he does, he does care such an awful lot for you, the same way you care about him. Finally accepting this makes you feel so at ease you don’t even feel like crying anymore. You feel his fingers brush through your hair, gently massaging the back of your head, your face nuzzled closer into the crook of his neck.

“You’ll be okay, I promise.”

[whitehotharlots]

It appears the manic safetyism the left has mandated for the past 15 years has begun to harm their ability to report issues that generate the demand for said safetyism.

A shame, really. Media overrun by guardrails protecting people against threats that were so fleeting and phantasmal they were forgotten long ago, everyone forced to pretend that terms like "unalive" replaced "dead" organically, or at least for reasons understandable to someone, somewhere, who is not completely insane.

I saw a thing the other day--one of the slimiest forms of clickbait where someone re-posts a piece of social media on a different platform, from a bigger account, presumably reaping ad revenue off someone else's content. It was one of them "Am I the Asshole" threads from Reddit. Don't remember its content at all--those are mostly fake, anyway--but it stood out to me because the word "Control" had been censored in the headline and throughout the piece. Apparently that's bad brand association, gives people the ick in regards to whatever Chinese boner pills or Keto supplements or knockoff contraceptive devices need to be sold to keep the internet functioning.

That got me thinking about all the times you'll see a video that contains naughty words that are spoken clearly in the audio but replaced with asterisks in the captioning. I had presumed this was a simple extension of trigger warnings, people wanting to avoid getting yelled at or having their accounts suspended. It's just "being a decent fucking person," after all. Any psychologist will tell you that the profound trauma survivors suffer upon seeing the word rape in print goes away entirely if the word is spelled r*pe. Words are violence, after all. They cause hurt to vulnerable folx. Do you want to be violent? Do you realize how many people you're killing every time you speak? Just do what what we tell you, obey our ever-increasing slew of incessantly weird and petty linguistic mandates or else I'll call your boss, tell your teachers, get you fired, put you in prison, etc etc.

But taking away ad revenue? Oh no, oh shit, that's a bridge too far! Won't someone think of the click merchants?!? Weep for all the important stories that shall no longer be profitably told--the trans influencers changing our perception about public architecture through dance poetry, the brave women exposing the inherent sexism within Behtesda, Maryland public sanitation department, the bold new Alf conspiracy theory that's drivin' fans insane, the development of 6 new cocktails inspired by the third season of HBO's Arli$... all gone, beaten, washed away like tears in the rain...

[yanderes-galore]

Yeah, sure! Sorry this took so long, TMNT requests have been hard to put out right now. Aged up as usual. Using my prompts.

This ended up being some sort of Serial Killer AU! Leonardo? I wanted to write something more twisted, so.... My scenarios were lacking a bit of murder.

Yandere! Leonardo (2012) Prompts 4, 12, 14

Pairing: Romantic

"My heart belongs to you, I'll adore anything you do to it."

"You were never meant to see that! Oh, what have I done...."

"It's too dangerous in the world. You need me, you should know that!"

Possible Trigger Warnings: Gender-Neutral Darling, Murder, Blood, Kidnapping, Stalking, Obsession, Overprotective behavior, Delusional behavior, Forced kiss, Forced relationship

Leonardo only ever wanted to protect those he loves. He's the most mature of his brothers, always has been. He's a leader... he's meant to be perfect in everything he does.

In reality, he isn't perfect. He knows this... and it's something he works to fix. Leo feels he has to do whatever he can to protect the people.

Which is why when it comes to you, he learns something else.

Morality is subjective... as long as he keeps you safe then he's happy.

He knows his brothers and Splinter would call him dishonorable for even thinking such a thing. Stalking your every move from the shadows is creepy. Even suggesting murder to take down those he feels are threats around you is no better than his enemy, Shredder.

Leonardo used to be so obsessive over honor and doing the right thing. Really, what is the right thing? It depends on the person.

Leo used to be so ashamed when he first... killed someone. He had seen them plotting against you, he knew they were going to hurt you. In an attempt to protect you... he had tracked them down. It wasn't meant to end in their death... both he and them both panicked!

Although... the fact he got away with it?

It convinced him that this was an okay way to keep you safe.

Leo then kept his pattern going. He'd stalk you late at night when you weren't around him. Then, when he felt he had to, he was comfortable with using his swords to cause fatal damage.

Murder no longer felt taboo to him. Now it felt like a necessary step to take to keep the one he loves most safe. The others may not agree...

But he isn't like them anymore.

He's a monster of his own breed now.

Blood coating his skin washed off in water. Their corpses were easy to pin the blame on another party or hide. Leonardo wasn't a heroic mutant anymore...

He was a serial killer.

When you caught him, only then did he think of his actions. Even then, it was brief. He's accepted what he is....

"You were never meant to see that! Oh, what have I done...."

At first he exhibited genuine concern. His pattern is disrupted and now you know what he does. However, you don't know why he does it....

So, he explains it.

He explains that the reason he's covered in blood, standing over a corpse, is all because of you.

You make him go insane.

Your fear was expected. He also knew all he's done for the past few months would be meaningless if he didn't do something with you now. Which is what made Leo take you with him.

Bringing you home would cause suspicion. You were still kept in the sewer but he made a hideout where only you and him may reside. Leonardo wasn't even your friend anymore.

Whenever you looked at him... you saw a few things;

A murderer...

A monster...

Your kidnapper....

Leonardo was a very dedicated killer, however.

"It's too dangerous in the world. You need me, you should know that!"

His mind still fixates in your safety. He's so delusional that he preaches about keeping you under his care. He acts like his company provides your warmth and love.

It doesn't.

It never will after what he's done.

"I... I only killed all those people to keep you safe!"

"They were my friends!"

"You don't know that!"

"You didn't know that they were enemies, either!"

Leonardo cleans off his swords, tossing them aside.

"Maybe not..." He admits before looking at you. "But I am the only one you can trust in such a... dirtied world."

"Really? If this world really is as bad as you make it sound... you're the most rotten one within it."

Leonardo narrows his eyes before laughing. His laugh is empty of joy... like you broke him. Then he turns fully to you and walks towards you.

"My heart belongs to you, I'll adore anything you do to it."

He cups your face despite your struggling. His grin is filled with delusional joy. He's just happy to have you in his arms no matter the circumstances.

"Even if you want to insult my heart and say I'm wrong... I don't mind. I want to hear you talk, I want your attention on me. I may be a killer... my swords coated in the blood of many..."

He leans closer, squishing your face.

"But my heart beats for you and you alone. Nothing will take you away from me...."

He kisses you softly before pulling away. You recoil in disgust but Leo holds your head still. He looks so out of it and mumbles something under his breath, yet you catch it barely.

"Nothing in this world can harm you if I'm the biggest threat...."

[terraliensvent]

Civ and Coy have left the species altogether as of today due to disagreements with the current staff. They didn’t want to cut back on making adopts so they removed all the pet info and split apparently.

What’s your opinion mod? Need screenshots?

gonna talk about this whole sitch in one go since i got a bunch of asks all together about it (asks above isnt all of them, just what i thought was notable)

first of all, imgur gallery of relevant screens in chronological order for you all. i am nothing if not a diligent journalist: https://imgur.com/a/8JlrfUs i recommend reading through that all because i dont feel like adding transcripts atm

now me personally, this is how i feel about the announcement

it astounds me how far coy will go to show their own ass in these situations (being impulsive, breaking in to the site to delete shit, shit talking the community THEY CULTIVATED??) and the funniest fucking part is that all this started because they were asked to maybe not profit off the species more than the people who are actually working hard on it (which, genuinely i think the new team has done more to further the species than anything ever under civ and coy. we have actual tangible evidence of work being done in the staff wip channel and FINALLY FUCKING TRAIT GUIDES, but anyways)

coy is a modern day furry icarus; all you had to do was shut your stupid mouth and you could have continued to rake in cash from the species you essentially left to die. i mean hell, cal (tycho) was being incredibly generous in saying you would be allowed 1 adopt per month as opposed to every two months like every other damn member of staff has to follow. you flew too close to the sun and now youve lost your easiest source of cash flow you dumbass

AND ON TOP OF THAT, to go on your instagram story to bitch and whine about it and show even more your lack of empathy for the people trying to piece together the mess you made, its just such disgusting behavior honestly. like terra staff is asking so little of you and yet you feel the need to shit your diaper over it because "well i created this initially so i should get to profit more than the staff team who are actually doing shit" youre acting like some CEO of a company who gets to rake in cash just because they slapped their name on a project being run by other people. its corny as hell and insanely childish that you cant be an adult (coy is 19 now guys!) and either abide by the fucking MINISCULE request they made of you, or be a civil human being and wash your hands of it instead of continuing again and again to try and wreck shit for other people who dont even want to gaf about you anymore. again, you had the easiest option in front of your face that would allow you to keep making money from your "brand" while doing essentially nothing, but you just could not be an adult and put away your impulsivities for a goddamn minute. that really exemplifies every single drama this species has ever been in, shit fits rising up because you and your staff (not current staff) couldnt grow the fuck up for five minutes and think before you type

and then to act like theyre not in the wrong about it really is the cherry on top of the shit sundae. coy has such an echo chamber around them that any bad decision is never critiqued and they just continue on this self-righteousness. maybe stop misconstruing the situation like "wah wah they keep changing things and pulling the rug out from under me" (which, funny enough you would know what was going on if you actually faced your consequences for once and tried to be a part of your bastard childs life) because you know thats not what happened. i hope their fans see how shitty their behavior is, because if i was someone with this sordid of a history especially relating to cs, i doubt anyone would want to work with me.

oh and civ left too lol. honestly i find their lack of response a million leagues better than whatever the fuck coys got going on. new terra staff keeps raking in the dubs i guess, i mean getting coy and civ to stop money grubbing over the species is awesome and now it can probably flourish even better than before. im sure the new pets will be cool too, seeing as the old ones were not really anything to lose your mind over. barely anyone wanted them as part of the species, and now that theyre gone theyre probably gonna be tossed into the void. at least now it might be cool to see what new staff team comes up with in the way of pets

mega rant over now but feel free to keep talking in my inbox about it, terravent fans rejoice because we finally have something to talk about

[acebytaemin]

top 5 perfumes, top 5 makeup products & top 5 songs you would play to bracha… 🙂‍↕️🙂‍↕️🙂‍↕️🤭💘

ouhhh i haven’t actually gotten to smell very many perfumes that i liked 😔 i truly mostly don’t like anything (at least out of the things i’ve gotten to smell which is all like. drugstore available stuff like no niche perfumery things which i rly do want to get into!) howeverrr… i do have some that i like:

1. killian angel’s share (i WILL buy this for myself.. one day 🧿)

2. givenchy l’interdit rouge

3. d&g the only one = ysl libre intense

4. tom ford black orchid

5. fuckass lush honey i washed the kids LMFAO i really love it it’s my after-shower scent, doesn’t smell incredible upon first spritz but it develops into this gorgeous subtly sweet scent that i looove to go to sleep with. same goes for lush twilight but it’s a lavender scent so you’d hate it kfhskkd

makeup products well 🤭 i WOULD usually put l’oreal 24h matte foundation here prob as number one however i haven’t worn foundation in almost a full year now so!

1. fenty beauty gloss bombs yes they’re incredible yes they’re worth it. every single cent. i get one every time i travel somewhere w a Sephora LMAO i currently have fenty glow & fu$$y currently 💋

2. maybelline lifter gloss (currently own 5 tubes (moon, 2x silk, topaz, red flag and looking to get more i need one in every bag at every occasion. way cheaper but also way less thick/long lasting version of fenty)

3. maxfactor 2000 calories mascara in waterproof listen no matter how i flip it no matter which mascara i try (ive tried too faced, benefit, ysl, dior and soooo fawking ON) this one is just IT. the only one with such good separation and holding up a curl and lasting the entire day. my main girl always

4. nudestix! i have 3 shades rn (naughty n spice, bondi bae, in the nude) i use them depending on my mood for the day as blush & bronzer and they give such a beautiful sunkissed vibe i love them sm. longwearing too

5. maybelline age rewind (fuck you in advance teo) concealer in shade 5 brightener it’s so good stays all day doesn’t crease mwaaah mwah i also use it for spot concealing if i get spots 😌 gorgeous & cheap you gotta love it

BEST FOR LAST…. literally where do i beginnnn bang chan answer my calls i need you to HEAR my vision. this is just going to be off the top of my head bc if i really got out my playlists and started to get into this i’d need to quit my job to focus on this alone 🙏🏼

1. periferija by voyage & nucci i have already gone ON abt this and i want to show this to them with super selfish intent like to talk them into doing something similar bc i just really really truly need chan and changbin going STUPID on a balkan beat it’s actually crucial to me. lyrics gotta be in a similar vein too A JA JAK KAO TERIJER i know you know. these fits bc you KNOW i need the tank top + chain combo

2. nad****a by zera oh listen this is again selfish of me bc i have this VISION of all of them doing this and ofc felix starts the song what with ‘dragon’ being in the meaning of his name and it’s gotta be a super dynamically shot video kinda like aespa supernova only at the club. felix insane face to voice ratio has to shock your system within the first 5 seconds of a song for it to truly HIT so he goes ‘ko zmaj bebo ja sam tako nadrkana’ [slaps the camera away from himself] ‘oko nas samo momci s lošim navikama’ [an almost 360 spin of the camera wherein you see bracha and then it gets to hyunjin who gets the next line] ‘ceo splav noćas popunjen je barbikama’ [zoom out to see all of danceracha aka my pretty dollface racha w hyunjin in the middle] i could go on. what i personally would change abt the song though is instead of the prechorus/verses i would do a lot of rapping i know my bracha would devour the track i am 100000% sure of it. the one other line i would NEED to keep is chan doing ‘gde god dođem imam pratnju kao predsednik’ ofc coupled w a shot of them all behind him 😌 uhm can you tell this was ALL i thought abt on todays walk LMFAOOOO i need to be like. sedated

3. keeping it SHORT NOW PROMISEEE i just gotta show nyokosuzi to my channieeeeeee i know he’d love it i know he’d relate jebeni lider etc you know how it goes i would LOVE to see his flustered face LMFAO you know how he writes the most suggestive nastiest lyrics and then pretends he doesn’t know shit. Yes exactly

4. opanci - nucci LOOK the nasty fucking tone of voice this man has just screams changbin to me and the mix of traditional singing w the rap strikes a chord to me (loš momak by nikolija another good example) i just think they’d both love it anddd sound so good on the track it’s a win win situation

5. a classic.. GLUH I NIJEM ZBOG NJE i can’t explain to you how much i want a bouncy beat from chan i know he’s got it in him ive heard what he can do. if they WANT to be pathetic i neeeeed ‘bacam ruže sto i jednu ružu na kučku bez duše ❤️‍🩹’ energy over a delicious beat and not fuckass lose my breath with underwhelming vocals type pathetic shit (+ bonus something like Divljam w the bouncy beat and added balkan spice in the instrumental PLUSS kako gleda me ko vučica vuka no no now ive said too much.)

[bellofthemeadow]

Summer of '03 | Joel Miller x Female Reader

Chapter 2 - The Garden Party

Series Masterlist | Previous Chapter

Rating: M for Mature (18 + no minors allowed)

Word Count: 6K

Warning: All warnings on the Series Masterlists, will update if necessary (Re-iterating, no minors allowed! Thank you)

Chapter Summary: The annual neighbourhood garden party is the last place you want to attend as the new gal in town. But you spot Joel Miller in the corner who gives you a rather charming smile. Maybe things are finally looking up!

Notes: Hey everyone, its been a minute! I am really sorry for the delay for the chapter, but life has been insanely busy! Between work, preparing grad applications and the upcoming semester, I have not had a minute for me. Also, this chapter was really hard to write, I've been trying to make my interactions more natural and its SO HARD!

I hope you all enjoy the chapter and like always thank you to everyone who liked and commented previously, I live for all your feedbacks! If you wanted to be tagged, let me know and I'll be really happy to add you to my taglist :D Take care everybody!!!

Taglist: @brittmb115 , @bitchwitch1981, @kittenlittle24 , @casa-boiardi

As the morning sun crept through the curtains, you woke up completely groggy. The oppressive feeling was eerily reminiscent of your late teens when you'd sneakily raid your dad's liquor cabinet for a swig of that fancy cognac. You groaned and snuggled your head further on the pillow. Note to self: "Never again mix wine with emotions” The fight with Joel last night had left you emotionally drained, and the contradictory desire/hate combo that was swirling inside you further accentuated that hangover feeling you were experiencing. And on retrospect, mixing wine into the already boiling pot of emotional turmoil had not been a great idea.

Getting up slowly, you shuffled your way into the bathroom, urgently seeking relief from that awful pasty feeling in your mouth. With your teeth brushed and the unpleasantness washed away, you returned to your room. Feeling a bit daring, you cracked open the bedroom window. And what do you know? A wonderful gust of fresh air greeted you, like the universe had just dropped a perfect little slice of heaven right at your doorstep.

Your hangover momentarily forgotten, you dashed to put on your cutest co-ord yoga outfit – a playful pink ensemble sprinkled with little white dots that made you feel like your best Barbie self. You unfurled your yoga mat, eagerly anticipating the next 45 minutes of respite from thinking about one Joel Miller. As you were bending down in some stretches, your peaceful bubble was abruptly shattered by a relentless assault of knocks on the front door. Seriously, universe? Can't a person downward dog in peace?

Letting out an annoyed huff, you marched towards the front door and yanked it open, fully prepared to tear into any doorstep salesman audacious enough to disturb someone at 8:45 on a Saturday morning.

Your annoyance faded as soon as it appeared because right in front of you stood a very sheepish-looking Sarah Miller, dressed in cute white shorts and a purple cap-sleeve shirt. A broad smile lit up her face as you opened the door. You arched an eyebrow, crossing your arms playfully before teasingly asking, "I thought you weren't supposed to come around here from now on?" Sarah's response was an Olympic-worthy eye roll; the sass was strong with this one.

"I don't know what's up with my dad, he was so out of line last night! Uncle Tommy says that he's got a stick up his ass, and honestly, truth!" You burst out laughing before herding her inside.

"Ah well, men are from a completely different planet. I stopped trying to decode their language a long time ago" you giggled with her.

Sarah suddenly had a very vulnerable look etching itself on her face. "I was afraid you wouldn't want to hang out with me after yesterday. I would totally understand if you didn't want to; my dad can be a lot sometimes. Like I love him and everything, but he really needs to chill." You smiled and reassuringly bumped your shoulder with hers.

"Hey, don't sweat it, alright? I loved hanging out with you yesterday, and your dad's grouchy grandpa routine isn't going to change that. Now that school is over, maybe you could come around more, we could hang out and stuff. If you aren’t busy of course, I cant imagine that youd want to spend all of your time with your boring old neighbour!"

Sarah's smile could light up the whole of Austin with how bright it got. "I'd love that! I have a babysitting gig for most of the summer, but I'll be free every day after 3 pm, and Dad works late, so we can hang out then..." Sarah kept rambling about how excited she was, and you couldn't help but smile fondly.

"Still, now we'll make sure that Joel knows when you come over; don't want to give him another excuse to hate me, you know. He’s got a big enough list already" Sarah acquiesced quickly, "Don't worry, my dad's gonna come 'round. He likes playing the overprotective Texas man, but inside he's like a big mush of jello."

 You couldn't help but snort at her words; many words came to mind when you think of Joel Miller, but "mushy," "soft," and "jello" would definitely not be contenders. Words like "intimidating," "broad," and "grumpy" would more accurately describe the man. And the sneakier voice in the back of your head would go even further and kept traitorously adding explicit descriptives that you couldn’t take out of your mind; “sexy” “arousing” and “daddy” were just a few. But you would deny ever having those thoughts until your grave. It didn’t matter how hot and steamy Joel Miller was, he was first and foremost a Grade-A asshole.

But when you looked at Sarah, who was so sweet and lively, you found it hard to believe that Joel Miller could truly be as terrible as he appeared. After all, he was the one who had raised her, wasn't he? Just the previous day, Sarah had disclosed to you that Joel was a single dad, which might account for his long hours and the fatigued yet determined countenance he wore. Observing him leaving his house in the morning, you were reminded of an old drawing you had come about in your grandma’s library when you were a child. You remember spending hours overlooking the printed carving depicting Atlas shouldering the world's weight as if an immense burden rested on his shoulders. The roles of provider, nurturer, and protector seemed etched into his demeanor – qualities, you imagined, he sought to embody for his daughter. It couldn't be easy, day in and day out.  If only he was less of a dick, you would bequeath those qualities to the man: dedicated, protective, nurturer. A shame he had the personality of a constipated rottweiler.

You smiled at Sarah and gestured toward the living room. "I was about to do some yoga, you want in?"

"I don't have a mat," Sarah replied.

"Lucky for you, I have two," you winked at her. When you decided to move to Austin, you’d never be able to guess that your new best friend would be a 14-year-old girl.

"Come on, you can't miss it! It's going to be so much fun, and literally everyone will be there!" Sarah exclaimed, her excitement only adding to the throbbing headache you were developing.

You hesitated, trying to find the right words to decline politely. "Well, you know, big meetups really aren't my scene…" In truth, the idea of spending your entire Sunday afternoon at the annual neighbourhood cookout in Didi Roberts' backyard didn't appeal to you at all. The Robertsons' legendary BBQ supposedly marked the beginning of every summer and was the talk of the neighbourhood, but for you, it was more like an anxiety-inducing spectacle to avoid at all cost. As the new face on the block, you could already hear a million questions coming your way - something you'd much rather steer clear of. The prospect of being surrounded by a sea of unfamiliar faces, engaging in small talk, and participating in group activities made you feel slightly uneasy. After all, you had come to cherish the quiet Sundays you've enjoyed since moving to Austin, spending them with a good book, relaxing in the backyard pool with Sarah, or strolling through the nearby park.

“I don’t think I want to have a bunch of people asking me a bunch of questions, Sarah, you know what I mean?” Sarah clucked her tongue, putting a stray curl behind her ear as she turned toward you. Both of you were lounging in the backyard, savouring the last rays of the sun before Joel would be due home. “Nah, people won’t care. Didi’s husband left her like 2 months ago, and no one knows why!!! People are gonna be way more interested in that drama than you moving in, trust me!”

You chewed your lips as you considered Didi's new divorce proceedings being in full swing. You couldn't help but wonder why she would be so adamant to host regardless. Perhaps it was out of habit, an attempt to maintain a sense of normalcy in the midst of what you heard to be a complete shit show of a divorce. Or maybe it was an act of defiance, showing everyone that she was doing just fine despite her husband leaving her for his secretary. The jury was still out on that.

Despite your best efforts to stand your ground, Sarah's contagious enthusiasm was proving to be a formidable opponent, gradually wearing down your resistance. For every argument you put forth, she effortlessly offered a counter, until finally, your resolve began to crumble, and you found yourself giving in.

"Well, okay, I guess I could drop by for a little while," you finally conceded, a soft smile escaping as Sarah's triumphant expression lit up her face.

"Awesome! You won't regret it, I promise!" Sarah assured you, wrapping you in a tight hug.

This was how you ended up in a large backyard, full to the brim with the entire neighbourhood on a blisteringly hot Sunday afternoon. The sun beat down relentlessly, casting a golden hue on the lively scene before you. Laughter and chatter filled the air, accompanied by the tantalizing aroma of grilled meats and sizzling vegetables.

As you stepped into the midst of the gathering, you couldn't help but feel like a fish out of water. An outsider among the familiar faces, you took a moment to observe the different groups scattered throughout the yard. Kids were running around with playful abandon, their laughter like tiny bells chiming in the summer breeze. Their parents were scattered over the expanse of meticulously trimmed green hedges and professionally cut grass. The dads had for the most part congregated around the large bbq, while the moms were drinking rose and chattering on the patio chairs. And you were… there. Sarah had said that she and unfortunately Joel, would be there at 1h30 pm, well now it was 1h55 pm and they were nowhere to be found.

Suppressing a groan, you reached for your glass of sangria, lifting it to your lips and taking a hearty sip. You had arrived at the cookout armed with the special concoction, hoping it would somehow win over the crowd. Your culinary prowess might not shine as brilliantly as Gordon Ramsay's, but who needed Michelin stars when you had the “Boozy Book” written by your very own Granny Mabel? She had always sworn by the magic of adding 3 extra shots of triple sec and 2 shots of Jameson to a full bottle of white wine, claiming it made the whole thing pop. You could still vividly recall the sight of your relatives at family summer cookouts, gleefully imbibing Mabel's potent sangria, only to end up toppling over and snoozing on the meticulously manicured lawn. In your younger years, the adults' antics might have seemed far from impressive, yet your grandma's smug wink and her declaration, "Someone's got to add a little spice to these dull gatherings, my darling!" had stuck with you. Now, as an adult, you embraced the tradition with open arms. After all, people didn't have the luxury of being judging assholes when they were too intoxicated to even form coherent thoughts.

And apparently, your master plan to win over the neighbourhood ladies had worked like a charm. Initially met with unsure and haughty looks, their opinions quickly changed after just one sip of your sangria. Suddenly, you became their new best friend, and even the hostess, Didi, declared that you would be invited to every future cookout. Hip hip hurray, you thought, though a tinge of gloominess lingered.

As you sipped your drink, you found yourself trapped in a conversation with Bonny and Portia, neighbours who lived down the street. They were busy talking your ear off about their husbands and their brood of children. They were practically living novellas of family life, expressing their eagerness for the resumption of school to catch a break from their children's ever-present demands. A wry smile danced on your lips as you listened to their musings, "so much for motherly instinct," you couldn't help but snort into your glass.

As you tuned them out and Portia's voice began to fade into the background, your eyes wandered away from the endless chatter and scanned the gathering.

And there he stood, Joel Miller, the man who made your heart skip a beat. Time seemed to slow as your gaze locked onto his, and the air around you crackled with electricity.

He looked delectable in that tight blue t-shirt, his charm and charisma radiating effortlessly. Joel stood in the corner, sipping on a beer, the condensation forming delicate droplets on the bottle. The way he casually leaned against the fence showcasing his confident ease as if he owned the place. The world around you seemed to blur, and all that remained was him and the palpable connection between you.

A mixture of excitement and nervousness flooded through your veins, momentarily halting your breath. The fleeting eye contact said more than words ever could. He knew, and you knew, and it was intoxicating.

A mischievous glint danced in Joel's eyes, and a knowing smirk tugged at the corner of his lips. He raised his beer in a subtle salute towards you without breaking the locked gaze, revealing the underlying connection between you two. However, before the moment could fully unfold, he shifted his attention to a smaller man in round glasses who was chatting animatedly at him.

Joel responded with polite nods and occasional hums, but it was evident that he was merely going through the motions. His eyes, though looking at the man, seemed distant, as if his mind was elsewhere. And your eyes stayed glued to him, observing the mesmerizing bobbing of his Adam's apple with each sip he took from his beer, entranced by the subtle movements.

You felt yourself grow warmer and a throbbing ache slowly started to build deep within you. You rubbed your thighs together as subtly as you could, but the sight of Joel Miller, who, for once, didn't look like he wanted to rip your head off, was too much for you. So you indulged, taking your time to watch him – how good, strong, and wholly masculine he looked compared to everyone else. Your eyes roamed over his strong shoulders, stretching against the fabric of his checkered shirt. His sleeves were rolled up, leaving his powerful and hairy forearms on full display. With his arms crossed, his stern stance gave you the perfect view to appreciate the thickness of them. You couldn't stop looking at him. You close your eyes, feeling the pressure of the man from the other side of the backyard. Fuck what you wouldn’t give to have him bend you over the table in front of everyone at that party. To have those big strong hands hold you down, hold your hair. Maybe you’d see something other than resentment in those warm brown eyes for once.

A teasing smirk played upon your lips as you continued to indulge in shamelessly ogling the man who had been causing headaches for the past couple of weeks. Your eyes settled on his strong thighs, outlined perfectly by the well-worn fabric of his ever-present jeans. It was as if he had a personal commitment to denim, regardless of the occasion or the weather. But you weren't complaining; in fact, you were quite appreciative of this consistency. Those jeans offered you an unobstructed view of his muscular legs, each contour and sinew highlighted in exquisite detail.

The play of sunlight on his skin only intensified the appeal. The way his muscles shifted beneath the surface as he moved, the way his stride exuded confidence – it was all captivating. You marvelled at how he could maintain such an effortless air of strength and masculinity, even amidst this admittingly boring BBQ.

Your lips met the cool rim of the glass in front of you, and you took a tentative sip. The liquid provided a fleeting reprieve, its flavor momentarily drowning out the persistent tug of the dilemma that wrestled your thoughts. Should you muster the courage to wander over and initiate a conversation with him? The notion lingered, a prominent question mark dancing in the recesses of your mind, illuminated much like those incessant billboards on the highway. It was as if a colossal, bright yellow arrow was pointing directly at Joel Miller and his infuriatingly irresistible face!

But the memory of his all too recent antagonistic behaviour gave you pause. The last time you crossed Joel Miller’s path, his words had been laced with a sharpness that grated your soul raw, leaving you exposed and feeling like a misbehaving little girl all over again. Your palms felt sweaty when you were with him, and you were pretty damn sure that about 60% of that wasn’t due to arousal. Ok maybe more like 40%, but still!

When his piercing brown gaze fixed on you, warm and inviting for everyone else, it seemed to hold a different essence entirely, summoning a sense of learned powerlessness that you had vowed never to let anyone inflict upon you again. It settled deep within your stomach, a leaden weight that felt unshakable. Like an anchor, it connected you to the darkest corners of your self-destructive tendencies. It was astonishing how a devilishly handsome, middle-aged contractor from Texas had managed to raze the fragile castle of self-esteem you had painstakingly erected after you had left your parents' home at just 19-year-old.

But at the same time, shouldn't two adults be able to talk without making a big scene in public? You were twenty-six for God’s sake, not a toddler! And he was… well you didn’t know how old Joel Miller was, but he should be old enough to not throw a temper tantrum. At any rate, that smile he threw your way could have been a peace offering, maybe he realized he had been nothing short of a complete douchebag since the day you two met. And there was Sarah too. You loved the girl, and it would be really nice if you and her dad weren’t always going for the jugular like a pair of wildcats!

Just as you were lost in thought, Portia's loud voice snapped you back to reality:

“And then, Marie said that the lifeguard down at Millbrow public pool wanted to show her how he used his stick and… Hey you even listening?”

You turn your head sharply toward the woman who exchanged an annoyed look with Bonny who rolled her eyes at your blatant display of inattention. You smiled nervously before downing the rest of your full glass in one go to the look of horror of the two PTA moms. You tapped the edge of your glass for emphasis, “Empty, gonna grab a refill of the punch I saw coming in. See you two later.” Before either could utter a word, you quickly make your escape toward the large table on the patio where a large bowl of punch had been placed.

As you were making your way, you tempted a quick look towards where Joel was standing a minute ago to find… Nothing. You let out a sigh, probably better that he went somewhere else, gives you an excuse to not talk to him. As you reach the table you grab the oversized ladle and poured yourself a generous amount of the unknown concoction into your glass.

“I’d be careful with that if I were ya. Didi’s famous ‘round here for having a pretty generous pour.”  You dropped the ladle with a large splash from the shock of hearing the voice of the man that had been living rent-free in your mind right in your left ear. He was close… way too close for your heart to handle. Joel let out a sharp laugh as you felt yourself grow hot.

“Glad one of us is having fun.” You grumble, “Could you give me some space, I gotta…” you point in the general direction of the punch bowl and extend your hand to start a game of go fish with the ladle. But as your hand reaches for the bowl, Joel’s own larger, browner, and calloused hand reaches for your wrist and softly squeezes. “’tis my fault, I’ll grab it. If Didi saw you contaminating her punch, she’ll throw a damn fit.” You shiver as you slowly retract your hand, “Euhh, thank yo-” You inhaled sharply as you felt his other hand grabbing your lower back, gently nudging you to the side.

You turn your head and were met with the devastatingly beautiful side profile of your infuriating neighbour. You were so close, that if you leaned in you could probably kiss the apple of his cheek. “Won’t Didi be angry with you if she sees you though?”  Joel only smiles as he fishes out the ladle and puts it on the napkin next to the bowl before wiping his hand down. He turns his head in your direction and all of a sudden, your two noses are inches apart. You drew in a sharp breath as Joel Miller smiles his devil smile “Better me than you, trouble.”

You raised an inquisitive eyebrow at his taunting and dare you say, flirty word, “Trouble? Is that supposed to be me?”  Joel gave a shy smile at the playful tone behind your words, and slowly brought his face inches closer to yours, your nose almost touching. You could feel his warm breath on your face. His sharp woodsy aftershave invaded your senses, leaving you a bit dizzy. “Yeah, I mean you’ve been nothin’ but trouble since I met ya…” And just like that the spell was broken.

“Excuse me?” You drew your head back sharply and took a couple of steps back, clearly, Joel wasn’t expecting you to react that way because he levelled you with a lost and slightly panicked look.

“I don’t be meanin’ anythin’ by that. I just, ya know.” He was clearly scrambling for words, but you just stared him down putting your hands on your hips to make you look as unimpressed as possible. He squirmed under your hard stare. Good, you thought. Let him feel as small as he made you feel these past 2 weeks. After 30 seconds of this suburban recreation of a western showdown, Joel seems to remember who he was and who you were because his eyes narrowed, and his lips formed a thin line.

“Sorry to burst whatever little rich girl bubble ya been living in, sweetheart. But you’ve been a troublemaker since you set foot in this damn neighbourhood!” You refused to be intimidated, not this time. Not when you had been mere inches away from kissing those plush lips that now were disdainfully scorning you.

“I don’t see how I’ve been trouble at all actually.” You replied, fixing him with an angry glar.

 “What you want an itemized list or somethin’?” You felt your eyes narrowing further at his words, “I’ve been nothing but nice and friendly since the day we met! You are the one that’s been acting like a grade-A asshole!”

 “Come on kid, ya bein’ serious right now?”

“Do I look like I am joking?” you retort angrily. Joel deflated at your tone and looked sheepish for a split second. You could see the gears working in his mind as he was trying to stringed together an excuse that would get him out of this.

"I didn’t mean to be rude, but ya know you ain’t the most considerate…" You let out a loud gasp, looks like Joel decided to double down.

"Is it about me arriving a ‘day later’?” You made sure to emphasize the words with air quotes, “I told you that day, no one told ME I had a schedule to abide by. If I had gotten in late at night, I would have found a hotel to crash in, no biggie. Rich girl pockets, you know." Joel looked a bit reddish at your sarcastic words and a little frown settled between his bushy eyebrows.

"Well, then you should’ve used that big New York, fancy educated brain to know not to disturb people when they don’t want to be bothered!" God this man knew how to push your button! What was wrong with him and why did he love throwing you your life back in your face like a well-placed jab!

"May I remind you that it was 1 pm by the time I got to Austin? How was I supposed to know you'd be asleep at 1 pm? I am many things, Mr. Miller, but a mind reader is not one of them."

Joel was getting quieter with each answer you were giving him, but he was not a man with the habit of letting go. He had dug himself a grave and he was in too deep to reach the top, so the only way to go now was deeper.

"Well, you did have my daughter at your place without tellin' me! That was irresponsible and downright negligen…"

"And I already apologized for that. I apologized, but that wasn't enough, was it? Why exactly? I didn't do anything to Sarah! I would NEVER do anything to that girl, and I would NEVER let anything happen to her! For Heaven’s sake, you act as if I was taking her into a cult! And you treat me like a… Like a fucking nuisance! Like I’m a fungus under your foot. And for what? Because I’m inconsiderate based on your minimal assessment of me? Based on the fact that I didn’t abide by a schedule I didn’t know about? Because I woke you up in the afternoon when I should have known that Joel Miller would be sleeping? Or because I love spending time with your daughter? From the way I see it, one of us is acting like a kid and it sure as hell isn’t me. You need to grow the hell up, Joel!"

You catch your breath as you start to notice that you two have been attracting a crowd, and most people in your general vicinity have gone completely silent. Hypnotized by the free melodrama happening in front of them, no doubt.

Joel was not letting go, and although his voice was much more subdued than what you’d heard before, he kept going his accent getting thicker with each angry word he was uttering. But you were too angry for his charming southern drawl to have any effect on you “I told ya I didn’t want ya hanging out wit’ Sarah no more! She’s my daughter and I decide who she should hang out with!”

You rolled your eyes at his last-ditch effort to apparently stick it to you. What was it with men and their refusal to admit fault? You were so tired, and the day was so fucking hot. Fuck, things had gone sideways so quickly. You really didn’t want to fight with Joel, all you wanted now was to go home, crawl into bed and sleep for 12 hours, hopefully away from all the nosy neighbours. You cringed, you and Joel would without a doubt be the number one topic of gossip in the weeks to come.

You gave him a tired smile, “I don’t even know why I am arguing with you right now, since everything I say, you’ll just twist to fit whatever weird narrative you’ve got going on. Look, I like hanging out with Sarah, she’s just a lovely girl. She is funny and kind and just completely smart as a whip. She is the first person that’s shown me some kindness since I moved here. If you really don’t want her spending time with me, I won't push it all right. I just want you to please leave me alone now.”

Your words seem to placate Joel as his stance became softer as he finally seemed to realize that you two had amassed quite the crowd with your little display. “Look, I didn’t mea..” “It’s fine.” You cut him off, “I’ll get out of your hair, and I’ll stop causing so much trouble since that’s apparently all I am good for to you.”

“Now wait a min…” His plea went ignored.

“I said it's fine Joel! And now, I am going home.” You turn sharply and swiftly make your way out of the backyard, your blood ringing loudly in your ears and tears welling up in your eyes. From hurt or humiliation, you didn’t know. Now you could see things pretty clearly though, Joel Miller was a fucking asshole.

Joel's gaze tracked your hasty retreat from the garden party, his eyes fixed on your form as you disappeared from sight. The soft murmur of his neighbors' conversations reached his ears his. Your public spat was probably the highlight of their fucking month. Vultures the lot of them!

He shot them a withering glare, his frustration palpable, his words of sharp retaliation poised at the tip of his tongue. However, before the acerbic retort could find its voice, a broad hand landed with a hearty thud on his back, interrupting his thoughts.

“Alright folk, Show’s over! How ‘bout ya’ll go find something else to entertain ya lot?” Tommy’s voice was friendly enough, but the authority underlying his words was sufficient for people to start scattering like a bunch of barn mice.

Tommy's grip on Joel's arm tightened as he led him away from the chattering crowd, angling towards the neglected corner of the backyard. The hushed echoes of whispered conversations seemed to follow them, an audible shadow that gnawed at Tommy's nerves.

Something was definitely off, but he wasn’t able to put his finger on what was going on with his brother. As they reached the secluded spot, Joel's brows were furrowed, his features a mix of bewilderment and frustration. Tommy could sense the tension in the air, a palpable unease that crackled between them.

"What the hell is going on with you?" Tommy's voice mirrored the frantic thoughts racing through his mind. "I might not be the sharpest tool in the shed, but even I can tell that whatever the hell just went down was a complete disaster, Joel! Seriously, for the love of God, ya made the poor girl cry!"

"I sure as hell didn't plan for that, Tommy, you gotta trust me on that! I was just messing around with her, and she took it way too seriously. Not my fault she got all bent out of shape. Those city kids, they can't handle a little ribbing..." Tommy shot Joel a stare that oozed complete and utter disbelief.

"Yeah, you and I both know that's a load of crap. Whatever went down, it sure as hell wasn't because of some harmless teasing. You were just dishing out your typical Joel jerk-face. I've seen that expression before, but it’s usually reserved for when the cement guys are running late, not for the cute girl next door!"

Joel's shoulders slumped as he let out a frustrated grumble in response to Tommy's words. He shut his eyes and agitatedly tousled his hair, as if trying to shake off his thoughts. "She's like under my damn skin, Tommy!" Tommy's mouth dropped open comically, momentarily resembling a fish caught on a hook. "It's like... I can't even explain it. I don't have the right words. But ever since I laid eyes on her, it's like an itch I can't scratch, and it just doesn't make any damn sense. We've had maybe three conversations since she moved here, and each one ended up in a fight. But damn it, Tommy, it's like she knows exactly how to push my buttons! Every time she walks outside in those shorts, it just gets under my skin 'cause I know every creep on the street is staring. And God, when she's with Sarah, she's incredible. Sarah adores her. I'm just... lost." Joel's words tumbled out in a jumble, an attempt to give voice to the chaotic swirl of emotions inside him.

Tommy fixed his brother with a blank stare, his voice tinged with incredulity, "So, if I'm getting this straight, you're attracted to her, and your grand strategy was to become the biggest jerk possible? Is this your mid-life equivalent of pulling the pretty girl’s pigtails in 8th grade?"

“Fucker! Ya don’t have to be such an ass about it!”

“I wouldn’t have to be if you’d get your head out of yours!”

"DAD!" Joel's eyes clamped shut as a loud groan erupted from his lips. "For crying out loud?" he muttered under his breath, the frustration evident in his tone. He pivoted on his heel, only to find himself locking eyes with Sarah, whose expression conveyed equal parts anger and disappointment over the scene that had just unfolded. She levelled a stern gaze at him, her hands planted firmly on her hips, a mirror of the very pose you had struck during your argument.

“What the hell was that?!” she shrieked.

“Don’t start with me Sarah, your uncle is already ripping into me so ya gonna have to take a ticket!” Joel grumbled unhappily.

“Yeah well, you were a complete dick..”

“Oy, language! I don’t care how angry you are, ya know better than not mindin’ your manners!” Sarah took on a sullen look and angrily exhaled a puff of air through her nose, “What like you minded yours with her? I invited her you know, the least you could have done was to be cordial!”

Joel took a step toward Sarah and grabbed her into his warm embrace, he could feel her tears wetting his shirt, “I really like her dad, she listens to what I have to say and she doesn’t just pretend to like other adults do. She took me shopping last week, and we looked at makeup for hours, because we couldn’t decide on the right shade. I’ve always wanted to have that.”

A pang shot through Joel's heart as he absorbed his daughter's words. He knew that Sarah had borne the weight of her mother's absence in silence, and now, with stark clarity, he understood the nature of the bond that you shared with her. Regret surged within him as he recognized the depths of his own blindness, the emotional whirlwind he'd been trapped in that had blinded him to the very essence of Sarah's needs. The realization hit him square in the chest: he had been a jerk, a self-absorbed fool, but now, he was determined to make things right.

“I know babygirl. I am so sorry for how I acted; I’ll make things right ok. Daddy will make everything right.” he murmured, his voice tender as he continued to hold her close. Sarah had reached an age where grand displays of fatherly affection were met with a facade of maturity. She had declared herself "too grown up" for such things, yet beneath it all, her heart seemed to welcome his words of comfort.

After a moment, they released each other from their embrace. Sarah wiped away her tears, her determination shining through. "You promise?" she questioned, a mix of vulnerability and longing in her voice. Joel reached out, his touch gentle as he brushed away a stray tear from Sarah's cheek. Offering her a warm, reassuring smile, he answered, "I promise, sweetie. How about tomorrow, you head over there and invite her for dinner next Friday?"

Sarah's face lit up like a child on Christmas morning. "Really? You mean it? I can invite her for Miller Friday?!"

Joel nodded, his own smile matching her excitement. "Yeah, it'll be a good time."

Sarah's enthusiasm didn't stop there. "And Uncle Tommy can still come? So, it’ll be like all of us?"

Joel chuckled, his eyes twinkling. "Of course. For better or worse, we're stuck with him."

Amidst the playful protestations coming from Tommy, who had been observing from the sidelines, Sarah managed a chuckle of her own.

Her gaze turned serious once more. "And you'll apologize?"

Joel's expression softened. "Yes, babygirl, I'll apologize."

"Promise?" Sarah pressed, her eyes searching for his assurance.

Joel's smile broadened, before spitting loudly in his hand and extending it toward Sarah. "Promise!"

"EWWW, DAD, GROSS!"

Next Chapter

[whirld-of-color]

Blueberry and Mango: am I reading this right?

Hey I’ve got a question about Mango and Blueberry and it’s too long for an ask so I’m putting it here instead. I’m not the sharpest in matters of romance so I just wanna make sure I get the gist of what’s happening in their affair.

They’re not in love, right? They don’t seem that affectionate towards each other outside of the sex. They’re always just smoking and standing around, not even looking at each other a lot of the time.

From what you’ve posted it seems like more of a passion thing than any sort of devotion. Two suffering people who happened upon each other and discovered that, when they let themselves be immersed in each other’s presence, they can forget their own pain.

But the euphoria is always temporary, and the pain persists, so they keep returning to each other. They keep seeking relief, and comfort, and an outlet, in each other.

They don’t even know this other person. And maybe they don’t care to, because they’ve at least recognized that they have the same motive, whenever they see each other. And their own pain is already enough to shoulder, they won’t shoulder the other’s burden as well. It’s much easier to both just drop their own burdens temporarily.To say that they’re involved in each others lives would be a mistake, because they use each other as an escape from their own lives. And yet, the longer this goes on, and the more habitual this becomes, the more they overlap. 

They are each other’s cigarettes. They light each other up and make each other feel good. They know that it’ll poison them eventually, and yet they just can’t stop. But this was never supposed to be a big thing to them, they were never supposed to matter, so of course, they lie and say that they can quit anytime they want. 

…………..at least that’s the impression i’m getting, but again I’m notoriously bad at picking up on romantic cues, so if this is wildly inaccurate I apologize.

—-

^submission by inksandpensblog

INSANE TAKE OP.

those last few paragraphs? YEAH NO THAT’S IT BASICALLY. they’re everything to me god bless

well.

ok so they are in love. at this point its definitely written to be the worst most toxic romance in the world where they’re mostly attracted to the things that blow them up. i talk about them so much in discord and they are in fact meant to have romantic attraction in there. at some point they’re even meant to start enjoying each other’s company. but also that take is like objectively correct here. that is such a large part of why they’re Like That. they Forget their own pain yeah they “balance” each other that’s like 50% of this mess, the way they seem to soothe each other.

and also they are in fact each other’s cigarettes. unbelievably correct. but, it’s half about the distraction and half about the pain. you know the kind of person who smokes because it’s bad, because it’ll kill them? that’s the other half- mango in particular does this because he hates himself so very much for so many reasons, god bless. (blueberry’s draw is different, it’s more comparable to alcohol for him- this all makes him sick with emotion and want to throw up but it’s anything, anything to feel alive, a fire that he’ll burn through)

mango’s here because blueberry washes his anger away and forces him to rest and is one of the best distractions. blueberry pulls mango down into the water and mango isn’t thinking about how he has to get revenge but he isn’t drowning thinking about anything else either and it feels nice. but also. also, mango’s here because blueberry digs his nails in during sex and gives him cigarette burns and scars. blueberry says terrible things to him and it hurts like hell and blueberry even means it. that’s the other half of why mango’s here 

they’re going to give each other psychological scars and it will be on purpose god bless <3

[anulithots]

noorie my love i have a question ☝️(i am dying of extreme boredom and plagued by the fact that i’m not doing my chinese homework which is lying right in front of me)

how does a typical meal in your household look like? (for example, mine would look like rice with common dishes, usually consisting of stir fried vegetables, either chicken or pork, and some sort of egg dish, with soup/broth at the end to wash it down.)

that is all. adios

Hello hello cristie!

NOt doing homework is so real. (in the last year of high school and absolutely doomed I’ve been yelled at so much this summer I can’t take it anymore. ANways…)

Meals in our household!

(We’ve eaten out a lot this past month for our collective sanity as we've seen around 100 houses anyways-)

Usually rice (obviously rice, always rice, I love rice it’s a safe food) with something like dhaal or salaan. (if I spell anything wrong it’s because I live in the grand ol’ USA I apologize). I’m usually the one cutting the onions and garlic whereas my sibling makes the rice. Usually dhaal has eggs with extra onions to put on top. And I like the soupy salaans where I can have the most ridiculous soupy-to rice ratio ever.

(Also I have issues eating things and soupy things with rice and/or vegetables are always good and I pretty much can’t eat anything else that well so it works out. yayay)

I love palak paneer tho. My mom and sibling made it once I love it.

Oh the other day my mom make chickpeas with potatos and some dosa and akljfdasklfjaskld. I like rices better than ones with naans or bread-like things because I can’t let things sit on my hands for too long if I can’t go to wash it off ever two minutes. (Especially at restraunts I despise having to wipe things off of my hands with napkins and having them sticky or messy for longer than a few minutes. It drives me insane. At home it’s okay-ish… especially if it’s with chickpeas I’d kill a person for chickpeas)

I think my favorite homecooked meal thing is chickpeas. I looooveee chickpeas. Sometimes I wash the chickpeas and snack on them beforehand. There’s usually meats in salaans but tbh I try to stay away from meats when I can. And we don't eat pork for religious reasons. (It's fun when the people at restraunts may or may not care about keeping pork out/disclosing that there is pork. Another reason why I like sticking to veggi things ayayyaya.)

IDK little me went on that whole ‘save the animals’ thing and nowadays meat just tastes weird to me IDK. (Okay I’ve choked on them a lot there’s that too but once I choked on tofu and I lovee tofu and I kept choking on oranges and continued to eat them so IDK my brain is weird) Also I like veggis so there's that.

Cleaning is ew though. General cleaning with everyone else is too loud I can’t hear my rain sounds. Me personally I’ll gladly clean the whole kitchen (and have) when I’m alone and can use it as ‘daydreaming time’. Also it’s definitely an improvement nowadays from the time in a previous move where the kitchen was out of commission for… months. SO we lived upstairs, which had one of those barely-working tiny sinks. It would get clogged up a lot and my mom yelled at me once that if I clogged it up again [insert general threat here brain isn’t telling me what exactly she said]. So the better option was to pile all the dishes onto a tray and make a trek to one of those jurassic park style sprial staircases that isn’t used to the weight because it would shake around. Then I would wash the dishes in the mudroom (newly renovated after the flood!), pile them back on the tray, and take them upstairs.

… anyways thank you for the ask! It’s fun answering these ones because I get to randomly talk about the crazy childhood of moving 4+ times. (and only now I’m figuring out my neurodivergent brain didn’t like that crazy.)

[ladylooch]

i am simping SO hard for luca fiala rn (which feels like a sin because i love his parents’ storg and he was just a baby then 😭)

BUT here’s a thought: jealous liv 😭😭😭

A/N: Absolutely NOT a sin to simping after Luca. He’s that sweet 🥰 Our lil Livy girl is so lucky! On that note, let’s give it all a little shove.

Luca’s cute yawn reaches Liv on the screen of her propped up iPhone. She is working on a paper while talking to her sleepy boyfriend. Luca had a late night traveling back to Minnesota from California, so he is just waking up. The first thing he does each morning is call her. It’s Liv’s favorite time of the day and she built her class schedule around their morning routine.

“So sleepy. You’re up a little early.” She notes, glancing to see it is only 9:30am there. He is sitting on his couch, the winter sunlight brightening his brown eyes, tossing gold flecks into them.

“Yeah, Willa is over.” He mumbles, glancing behind him as the sound of the oven door opening reaches Liv. Her fingers pause on her keyboard. She turns to look at Luca on the screen. His eyes are above the phone, where she knows his TV hangs on the opposite wall. Willa is Luca’s neighbor, who is entirely too cheery and friendly. Maybe her personality is that, but the way she hovers around Luca makes Liv's skin itchy.

“Oh.” Liv murmurs, then glances to where Luca is, realizing again that he is shirtless. She purses her lips, trying to fight against the jealously and insecurity bubbling in her chest. “That’s… nice.” Luca looks back at his girlfriend, hearing the tightness in her voice. His guest butts in before he can soothe the crunch in Liv's nose.

“Hi Livia!” Willa says excitedly while coming behind Luca. She insists on using her first name, even though Liv has mentioned her preferred name. “You have the sweetest boyfriend!” Liv knows this but puts on a passing, fake smile.

“He is the best, huh?”

“Totally! My oven stopped working and you know how slow maintenance is with their requests.” She laughs faintly. “And this one.” Willa says as she slaps Luca’s bare shoulder. Liv’s fake smile turns into gritted teeth. “Was kind enough to get up early so I could finish making cupcakes for my nephew. He is five today! Wow, time is flying!” 

“It sure is!” Liv exclaims. Luca’s eyebrows pull together, sensing his girlfriend’s further displeasure seep through the phone. “Well, baby.” Liv exaggerates the pet name. “You are just so busy this morning! I better let you go. You should help with those cupcakes. You’re the best froster in the Midwest.”

“Liv, wait-” Luca starts.

“Have an amazing day, Willa! Enjoy the cupcakes!” Liv clicks off.

Anger tightens her shoulders as she looks back at the last sentence she wrote for her paper. Green clouds her vision as she begins to rework her last paragraph. Soon, the green turns into watery tears. 

“Damn it.” She whispers, her bottom lip trembling.

So many emotions rock through her. She’s insanely jealous of Willa spending time with her boyfriend. She’s hurt that Luca didn’t even tell her about Willa being there until it was obvious someone was with him. She is mad at herself for, probably, blowing this out of proportion. And she’s sad. So sad. She misses him right now. He feels so much farther away than he is. Liv curses at how their schedules are continuously not lining up for a visit. 

Liv drops her head into her hands, collecting her tears on her fingertips to wash them away. This is so stupid.

Her phone buzzes with a new text. She knows it’s from Luca. But she doesn’t want to talk more right now. Instead, she pulls her ear buds out, slams her laptop shut, and heads to the gym to run as hard as she can away from this feeling. When she gets back, dripping with sweat and feeling like she punished herself, she grabs the phone, seeing numerous texts and phone call attempts from Luca. Guilt pinches her throat.

Baby, what was that?

Can you please pick up the phone?

Babe. Nothing is going on with Willa and I, if that is what you’re thinking. It’s as innocent as she told you. 

Okay. You’re not ready. I won’t push anymore. I’m going to the rink. If you call and I don’t answer, that’s why.

Liv falls back onto her bed, ignoring the way her sweat bleeds into her freshly washed comforter.

So much for outrunning this feeling.