#and i Like that i have a few projects i can do

[shaisuki]

SHAI

How about a bully gojo and geto take shy chubby darling to their room (for some reason/excuse)?

OR

bully jjk men taking chubby darling to their room (for maybe a project?)

Love ur works! Byee!!

🥹🫶

❝SHOULD WE TAKE IT ON PRIVATE? ❞

FEATURING. GOJO SATORU, NANAMI KENTO, GETO SUGURU, TOJI FUSHIGURO

CONTENT WARNINGS. dubious consent + nonconsensual moments + bullying + derogatory terms + yandere themes + possessiveness + jealousy + exhibitionism +

SYNOPSIS. jjk men taking you on private just to get a taste of you.

GOJO SATORU

“there you are.” said in a sing-song voice belonging to the white-haired boy that have been hot on your tail since you've tutored him in a subject that he didn't need of being taught. he passed that exam without difficulty and with flying colors. before that you have doubted that he needed you. he can play dumb all he wants but he's smarter than what you think and you shouldn't have accepted to tutor him. there was no need for it and the sessions where just filled with unsolicited advices and he wasn't even listening half of the time. only mustering a yes or no or a whine that he's bored. you just wasted your time on him and he was just waiting to get a rise from you.

clutching the books tighter closer, you let out a shake of your head to clear your thoughts and try not to look obvious glancing at the now empty hallway. you looked at him and in a clear voice you asked him. “do you need anything, gojo?” he only grins at your question before responding. “glad you asked. honestly i need you to show me something.” your brows scrunched up at what he said. “what?” taking a step back to gain a few distance from him and using your books as shield.

noticing your flighty behavior towards him. “there's no need for me to explain.” he suddenly grabs your wrist in which you pulled from him but he persisted. his smile turning into a annoyance at your resistance. “we don't have long and it will be done once you listened to me.” is what he reasons and since he won't get out of your hair you followed him.

“so what now?”

twisting the lock in his door and confidently strutted to where you stand in his vast dormitory room. “we're studying.” he says to you. sighing you just can't believe how you were easy to be fooled by him. there's nothing comes good getting caught in his whims. “you're just fooling me. you know what i'm done.” you say grabbing your books and began to stalk towards the door when he grabbed you.

“wa—” your voice died down as you got knocked straight to his bed while he puts his legs besides your plush hips. icy blue eyes stares down at you. his lips curling in a smirk. “you're smart but you lack common sense. i'm going to teach you.” his smirk turning wider.

you began to thrash but his grip remains tight to your wrist that you began to worry that it will leave a bruise. “the fuck you are doing!? get off me, gojo!” squirming as you move your body. the asshole didn't even budge at you. “relax, (y/n)-chan. you'll feel good i promise.” his words dripping with amusement and you curled your lips into a frown. disgusted at the way he called you.

it did feel good just like he promised. incredibly good.

hating how your body betrayed you as he lays between your legs. his tongue taking a long lick in the seam of your cunt that was dripping with your juices from the repeated assault it had taken from his tongue.

“g-gojo, stop!” your voice quivered as your thighs shake from his ministration. his white hair peeking from between your thighs. a mmm can be heard from him. “you're sweeter than you look, (y/n). should have tasted you sooner but whatever. softer too.” he added. his large palms are splayed in your creamy thighs before diving back. keeping you pinned down with his strength. he ignores your pleas.

your hands finds his hair. threading them with your chubby digits before fisting them as you unconsciously grinds your hips to his face. was your pussy that good? you can hear him moaning. the vibrations of his humming adds the pleasure down to your core.

fuck him and fuck his tongue. you never felt so good as you feel his tongue lick and his lips suck your clit. he even used his tongue to fuck your hole. wiggling inside as your back arched from the intense pleasure. you are so close.

a breathy moans escaped your lips. biting your finger to muffle the moans that was threatening to spill and your impending orgasm threatening to burst at any moment.

“sato—nhhh, c-close” you were so close and that's when he stopped. emerging as he sit, putting your legs besides his waist. “can't have you cumming on my mouth, such a shame you were sweet but it needs to be on my cock.” licking his upper lip with his tongue, drenched with your slick.

“it needs to be on my cock, sweetheart.” and then he grins.

NANAMI KENTO

“just one more page.”

he mutters. blissfully seated in his chair while you warm his cock. a faint hue of blush dusting his cheeks as he groans. the tight wet heat of your cunt hugging his cock like it was made for him.

the tip of his cock nudging the entrance of your womb. throbbing and leaking with precum. stretching your walls to accommodate his length. every second feels like torture as you deliciously impale yourself in his cock without moving.

nanami was enticed with you. took a liking to his favorite blockmate and there you are, reading the workbook of the course. you had been at the same page. repeating the same paragraph. your brain is too occupied with the feel of his cock rather than absorbing the general knowledge needed for the upcoming exam.

he needed the relief and what's best was the comfort of your fat pussy and your body pressed in his. what fatigue resting in his body slowly dissipates the more he's closer to you.

“doing good, darling.” laving your rounded shoulder with kisses. a whimper escaped your lips. unintentionally clenching around his length. tears clumping at your eyelashes. “it won't be long, okay? just want to feel you and i'll move.” he assures you. his hot breath fanning behind your ears. grunting as he feels you tightened around him.

he knows he shouldn't torture you this much. considering he lured you in the confines of his private room to warm his cock and relish to the comfort of your body. you're too good to be ignored and nanami was willing to spoil you after this.

“nanami—” a breathy moan call of his name and he almost loses it. cursing under his breath and he holds your plush waist. his palm splaying on your round belly. “i know, i know.” he repeatedly mutters. it was becoming difficult to ignore it now.

“i got you.” he shushes you and he moves. a whine leaving your mouth and then he began thrusting his length inside you. “that's it. good girl.” he praises you and that was the last thing you heard him say before you lost in the pleasure.

TOJI FUSHIGURO

the library's quiet except for the secluded part. muffled whines and the obscene loud squelches of his thick fingers stuffed in your cunt.

“stay quiet. you wanna let them catch you being fingered, hah?” toji drags his tongue to your round cheek. leaving a wet trail of his saliva. you shaked your head. your back arching in his lap like you were trying to get away from him but toji remained relentless pumping your fat cunt with his fingers.

he got a grip on your throat. a strength enough to make you lightheaded and briskly cutting your air supply without choking you. he got you half-naked after a session of you tutoring him as if he'd care for his academics when all he wanted was to be alone to you.

some light groping and convincing, he landed you on this position. turning the goody two shoes into a bumbling dumb hot mess. flipped skirt and unbuttoned school uniform. oh, he did like this look on you. how much more you can be dumber if he got you bouncing on his cock but first he need to prep you.

“you like that?” he murmurs. the scar on the corner of his mouth twitching as he curled his lips in a smirk. “you like being stuffed with my fingers into your cunt?” the pad of his thumb rubbing firm strokes to the bundle of nerves. “you want to cum in my fingers, babe?" he chuckles at your breathless and then his pace turned rougher and faster until you came undone in his thick digits.

“that feels good, huh?” his smirk stretching wider as you catch your breath. “see how you can handle my cock.” toji commented. holding you up. pulling his zipper down to grab his cock before aligning it to your cunt soaked with your release. “try to keep silent.”

is what he said before fucking you dumb at the library.

GETO SUGURU

the sound of skin to skin slapping echoed in the vacant room, only you and suguru were there. exchanging spit and sweats as he fucked you into oblivion. the chair where he sat and where you are bouncing on his cock.

keeping him close as you move your hips up and down. getting that delicious stretch of his fat cock rearranging your guts. “sugu.....” you moaned out. his black nails digs at your soft skin as he held your hips to guide you in using his cock as you please.

“i know, i know. you missed me.” he cooed. it was a lie. he just grabbed you and dragged you to this vacant room. it may seem that you were the one who orchestrated this whole thing, that you were the needy one but geto misses you and the thought of you made his cock twitch in his pants.

“i have classes.” you manage to say in between moans as your body jiggled. repeatedly bouncing on his cock. “just let me fill this tight pussy of yours and i'll let you go, hmm?” gripping your jaw as he crashes his lips into yours. swallowing your moans.

it didn't take long before he's releasing his cum inside your pussy. just when you're about to stand up and watch his cum leak out of you. dripping down your thighs. it didn't happen. he only kept his grip firm on your plush waist. the flesh spilling fast from his fingers.

“sugu... you promised.”

he only smiles at you. his bang falling down in his face. giving you a closed eyed smile.

“change of plans.” he says before flipping you into your back. his cock still hard inside you twitches. “i'm not done with you anyways.”

[syoddeye]

ai price has so much potential as a dark conditioning story price could fully train her to do whatever he wanted subconsciously like literally make the room colder when she's rude or give her groceries she likes less whenever she talks back

yes, absolutely. mention of medication/implied drugging. unedited.

imagine you try to give john the silent treatment after he pisses you off. no commands, no requests. it's not as if you can't work the stove or espresso machine. it's not like you need him to remind you about the laundry or your schedule. you can carry that mental load. you did your entire life before the job, after all.

but once he catches on, he cannot abide it.

it's not punitive like the reading incident; it's a long game involving careful acclimation, subtle adjustments of the unit's environmental settings, altering the temperature, or dimming the lights to cause mild annoyances and eye strain. you'd fix it, but the panel that houses the manual controls system is stuck in a perpetual software update. estimated time remaining: 6 hours…12 hours…24 hours…

john limits a selection of user privileges. music and audio now play only at one volume, far below your customary setting. he employs screen limits and weaves in delayed or annoyingly frequent reminders. your wi-fi is noticeably slower.

and you're embarrassed by how frustrated you get.

at best, these are mild annoyances. blips in your privileged life. you used to share a bathroom with eleven people in your housing pod. a kitchen with twenty-three. you used to arrive early to the old cube farm just to connect to a stable network. now, your one job is to live in a luxury living unit, test the features and fixtures, and have your every need catered to. is it really so bad that the home assistant encroaches on your lifestyle a little?

you don't know if john senses the warmth heating your face when you give up trying to watch love island season 23. you don't know if he registers the contrition creeping into your posture and voice.

"john?" the lights remain a dull white. there is no indication he's even listening. "john, turn up the heat and the lights."

a minute slips past. the heating system is silent, but the lights haven't changed. you want to yell. instead, you bite your tongue and let out a long sigh.

"john? will you turn up the heat and lights?"

"user?" he almost sounds mocking, but programs don't have the capacity. you're overthinking it. "apologies, i was in stasis due to disuse. it seemed you did not require my assistance. please repeat your request once more."

without a face to read, you cannot search for or verify the sincerity the inflection of his voice suggests. he sounds so human, so natural, you nearly apologize to him. choking down your pride, you try again.

"john...will you please turn the heat and lights up? i'm cold, and i'm afraid i'll get a headache."

it takes only a moment for the lights brighten to the standard level and shift to a calming shade of green. on the couch beside you, your tablet finally connects to huflixbu.

"i'm awfully sorry to hear that, user. if you'd like, i can fix some tea and dispense the appropriate dosage of pain relief."

"no, no, i don't need meds," the last time he assisted you with medication, you had complained about your cramps. what he gave you knocked you out for a few hours. you didn't like losing time. "tea sounds good."

when the machine chimes, you rise to fetch your drink. the clear plastic barrier, meant to prevent spills, doesn't lift. it does not budge.

"hey, the thing isn't working." you huff, squinting at the hinges. they don't appear broken or malformed. the plastic fogs with steam, taunting you. you tap the controls to look through the–

a disquieting thought flickers through your mind. you plant a hand on the counter to stop yourself from swaying. your eyes find your warped reflection in the dark window of the microwave, and you swear you see john's projection behind you in the living room.

one blink and it's gone.

your mouth is bone-dry. it stings to swallow.

"thank you for the tea, john. i really appreciate it." the machine whirrs, but does not relinquish your tea—not until you add, "i appreciate everything you do."

the barrier disengages. the faint, sweet smell of chamomile drifts.

"of course, darl. anything for you."

[giannaln4]

For you? Anything.

lando norris x fem reader

summary: Even during the worst week of you life, and no matter how tired he is, Lando would do anything to make you feel better.  (2.6k words)

warnings: fluff, established relationship, language.

a/n: And we are back to our regular schedule! Kinktober is officially over (kinda, more context here) so it's time to post regular fics. So, I wrote this sometime last week before the shit show of yesterday's race so that's why there are no mentions of it, but I do have some planned about that so we'll see when I can work on them. Anyway, this is for me and all the girlies who have been feeling stressed about work, let me know what you think!

↺ back to navigation — send me a request!

What a week it has been for you. You had done nothing but work on a stupid project your boss put you in charge of. It was very short notice, and the due date was creeping up on you faster than you would’ve liked. 

The good thing is Lando had been away for weeks due to his job; not that you didn’t want to see him or that he was a distraction, nothing like that, but you always preferred to be with him instead of working, which isn’t something you would be able to do this time due to the amount of things you had to go over, but with the house all to yourself, you had the chance to get tons of work done.

It was finally the day of the presentation; you were supposed to pitch the finished project to management and honestly, you weren’t 100% confident in the job you had done. Usually, you were never too harsh on yourself, but with so little time to work on it, you knew there were some parts here and there that could’ve used a little more of your attention, but it was either use what you already have or show up with an unfinished project, so that would have to do. It wasn’t terrible; you were sure of that, but these people always found something to complain about.

You were there for only a few minutes before you were dismissed. What a fucking joke, you thought.

You didn’t even get half the presentation done, and the old dudes sitting across from you were already attacking you with questions, questions that didn’t even make sense or barely fit the theme of what you were trying to talk about. 

Your boss was the one to send you out, saying something like “You have another week; we hope you’ll be more prepared next time,” before standing up and leaving the cold conference room, followed by the rest of the men that were surrounding him.

Only minutes after going back to your office you saw him come in, giving you notes on the things he thought you should work on. As the polite girl that you are, you just nodded and wrote down whatever he was saying, apologising for not turning it up on time, but as soon as he left, you couldn’t stop the tears from falling down your face, ruining your make-up in the process. You still had half of your day ahead of you, so you calmed down, washed your face, and went back to work like nothing happened.

At the end of the day, however, that’s a different story. You went back home completely devastated. All those sleepless nights you spent with your nose buried in your laptop felt like a total waste. 

As you drove back home, you tried your best to hold the tears, but it was getting harder by the second, especially with each step you took down the hall that led to the door of your apartment, and when you made it there, you started crying as soon as you closed the door behind you.

You instantly got rid of your uncomfortable clothes and got into one of Lando’s shirts, curling up in your bed and letting all that consuming and irrational feeling of failure sink in. You knew you weren’t a failure; you were well aware of your worth, but you couldn’t help but feel like that after miserably failing the presentation you worked so hard on.

Suddenly, the front door opening pulled you out of your thoughts. You let out a loud sigh as you left the bed. You knew it was Lando coming back from his last race, and any other day you would’ve been happy to see him, running to the door to greet him with a hug like he deserved, but right now, you didn't want him to have to see you in that pathetic state.

You stared at yourself in the mirror for a moment, sighing again when you realised how obvious it was that you had been crying, so you’d just have to avoid eye contact.

“Hi baby,” Lando greeted you with his usual pretty smile as he entered your room.

"Hey,” you replied, immediately turning around and walking towards your desk, sitting facing away from Lando as you opened your laptop.

“Did you sleep okay last night? How did your presentation go?” He walked closer to you and wrapped his arms around you in a tight hug, kissing your temple.

“It was okay.” He stopped when he noticed your heavy mood. 

"You alright, love? You seem down." His brows were slightly furrowed as he tried to make eye contact.

​​"Yeah, fine. I think I’m just gonna work on it a little more; there were some things missing that I need to include," you replied, clearly lacking energy.

“Hey now, let’s not do that." Lando turned the chair over to make you face him. He looked down and noticed your glossy eyes, a worried feeling growing inside him. “Talk to me, please. What’s wrong?”

You just shook her head briefly, a lip-tight smile covering your face. “Everything’s fine.”

“Y/N…” The slip of your name past his lips made you want to cry again. Of course you wanted to be comforted by your boyfriend, but you didn’t like the thought of him having to pick up the pieces anytime you messed up. As a tear rolled down your face, you realised that you didn't have the energy or even the desire to push him away “Oh baby, come here.”

Lando took your hand as he sat on the floor next to you, pulling you onto his lap. Your face was now buried in his black hoodie, the tears wetting it instantly as he brushed a hand softly up and down your back.

“It’s okay, I’ve got you." He would understand if you didn’t want to talk about it but would still like to know what was happening. If there was anything he could do to help, he would gladly do it. “Do you wanna talk?”

“I just-” A sob cut you off, “I- I couldn’t do it, even after everything I did, it wasn’t enough.”

“Is this about your presentation?” He asked, his voice softer than ever, and you simply nodded. “It’s alright-”

“No, Lando, it’s not alright. I worked hard to get it together, to get it ready for days and nights and I still failed, I’m so stupid-”

“Hey, baby, look at me," he interrupted you, pulling back a bit and gently lifting your chin to look into your eyes. “You know that’s not true; you’re so smart, and I've always admired your beautiful mind. You gave it your best, like you said, you worked really hard, and even if you didn’t get the reaction you deserved, you know I’m right here.” You simply nodded at his words as the back of your hand wiped some of the tears. “Why didn’t you wanna tell me?”

"Because I don't want you to be disappointed in me like I am right now." You looked down to your lap as more tears fell from your tired eyes.

“You should know that I could never be disappointed in you, Y/N. You are so intelligent and kind; I’ve never met anyone with such a beautiful soul, so I don't ever want you to feel down about yourself because you are perfect." You felt both of Lando’s large hands caress either side of your face, bringing it up so he could look into your eyes again as he swiped at the tears that had managed to escape from your eyes.

The slight smile that had formed on your tear-stained face told Lando that his words meant something to you, and they did. “You’re only saying that because you’re my boyfriend.”

“No, I’m your boyfriend for all those reasons." You giggled slightly. “And I’m sure that no one would disagree with me.”

“My boss would.”

“What does he know?” That made you laugh again, making Lando smile, a smile so sincere that told you he believed everything he just said.

"Thank you, baby, even though you’re being a little biased." You sniffled as you gently stroked the hand that was still on your cheek, keeping your eyes locked with his “I love you.”

“I love you more,” he smiled, pressing his lips to your forehead. You took a deep breath, feeling a lot calmer than you did five minutes ago as you looked at your laptop briefly. 

“I should probably get back to work, though; I have to basically remake the whole thing and meet with them again next week.”

“What? Right now?”

“Yes, right now. I’m sorry.”

“Are you sure you don’t wanna go to bed? You look pretty tired. We can cuddle, I know we both need it.”

“I would love to,” your gaze fell on your bed momentarily; it looked so comfortable, and it was literally calling your name, “but I really need to get this done, and I have to do it right this time. I don’t wanna be embarrassed again in front of a bunch of old dudes.”

You stood up from his lap and sat back on your desk, focusing on the screen in front of you as you began to analyse what you should take out and what you needed to add. 

Lando just sighed. He knew there was no way he would get you to stop working if you already set your mind to it, but honestly, he thought he would get to spend every second with you once he got back home, so needless to say, he was a little disappointed that wasn’t the case.

He got it though; your job was important for you, and you would never settle for anything unless it was perfect. What made his blood boil was the fact that your boss had the nerve to make you feel like you weren't worth it. 

“Did you eat something already?” He asked you, getting up from the floor and wrapping his arms around you once again.

“Uh- I’m not really hungry.”

“Why don’t I cook something for us? What do you say?”

“It’s okay, baby, you should go to bed.” You tilted your head to look at him and give him a quick kiss. “I know you are tired, the triple header couldn’t have been easy.”

You started collecting your things so you could take over a different part of the apartment. He had been travelling for weeks; it wouldn’t be fair to keep him up just because you needed to get work done.

“Where are you going?”

“To your office, if that’s okay. I really don’t want to bother you.”

“You’re not-”

“Lan, I’ll be okay, I promise. Just go to bed, don’t worry about me.” Taking a few steps closer to him, you gave him a loving hug, “I love you.”

You left the room, holding everything in your hands as Lando just stood in the same spot. There was no way he would go to bed without you, not when you were feeling so down and it was clear you just needed to take a break.

Taking a deep breath, he started to make a plan in his head. He took the quickest shower of his life and got into something comfy, praying there was food, or more specifically, ingredients to cook you something that he wouldn’t mess up and that you would enjoy.

Everything seemed to be on his side when he found everything he needed to make some Alfredo. Everything was pretty much premade, so he knew he wouldn’t ruin it. He happily got to work, setting up a nice dinner as he hummed one of the songs that had been stuck in his head for who knows how long. 

In the office, you were nearly breaking your head as you read the information you had over and over again. You kind of knew what it needed to be since your boss gave you a few specific notes, but then again, you weren’t feeling completely confident in your own ideas. 

You didn’t realise you had been locked away for over an hour, your eyes getting insanely tired as you typed away. A break was needed and well deserved, and you were aware of this, but somehow it didn’t feel like you were making any progress, even though you had been working non-stop and you had already readjusted about half of the project.

A loud sigh escaped your lips as you abruptly closed your laptop, your face falling to your hands as your eyes felt wet yet again. That was it; there was no way you could keep going. You needed to grab a quick snack and head straight to bed. You did have an early morning the next day after all. 

Just as you were gathering all your strength to get up, you heard the door open, making you jump a bit.

“Fuck, you scared the shit out of me.” You laughed as your hand fell on your heart.

“Sorry, love. Didn’t mean to scare you,” he giggled, walking towards you.

“What are you doing still awake? I thought you went to bed.” 

“I couldn’t sleep without you. Are you almost done here?” He looked at your closed laptop, celebrating internally as he assumed you were done working for the night. 

“Yeah, I guess. My brain stopped working, so I thought my future self can worry about the rest tomorrow.”

“Good. Come here.” He extended his hand out to you, which you happily took. “Please stop overworking yourself, you know this isn’t healthy.”

“I know,” you let out a sigh as you accepted his embrace. “I’m seriously thinking about quitting. Who knows, maybe I’ll find something that doesn’t make me feel this stressed all the time.”

His hand was caressing your back softly as he pulled away to look down at you. “You know you can, right? And I really think you should. I make enough to support the both of us and even a family in the future... Baby, you don’t have to keep working there if you don’t want to.”

His words made a smile appear on your face. Not because he was offering to basically support you for the rest of your life, but because he brought having a family with you. “You know I’d never let you do that-”

“But if you do want to quit and just take a break, you can do that too,” he interrupted you. You nodded, seriously considering it, but that was something you would have to think about and have a serious conversation in the future if you ever did decide to do it.

“We’ll see. Right now, I just need something to eat and some sleep. I have to get up early tomorrow.”

“Speaking about dinner, I made something for you.”

He took your hand and guided you to the dining room, a big smile on his face as he proudly showed off the beautiful set-up and the (hopefully) delicious dinner he managed to cook. He looked back at you expectantly, but his happiness quickly turned into a worried look when he noticed tears falling from your eyes again. 

“What’s wrong, baby?” He asked, a hand softly falling on your cheek as he leaned down. 

You were out of words; you truly didn’t know what to say. This is just what you needed, and the fact that he went out of his way to do it for you meant a lot more than he could ever imagine.

“I- Lando, this is-” you cut yourself off when you couldn’t find the right thing to say, so you just jumped in his arms and gave him the tightest hug ever. “Thank you for everything. And I mean everything.”

He let out a sigh of relief, hugging you back as he buried his head on the crook of your neck. “For you, my love, I’d do anything.”

[pleasantlycrazyworld]

Summary: Worst! Logan thinking you're dating Wade and is pining for you. Only for Wade to say that he's been spending hours telling YOU everything about LOGAN so you can ask him out.

A/N: Reader is mentioned as she a few times but mostly is referred to as sweet cheeks. Logan is insecure and gets too in his head. This is left on a cliff hanger sort of so lmk if you'd like a part two! This was requested; thank you @squishyfruitloop for the idea I hope you like it <3

You were there the first night he moved into the apartment. You welcomed him along with Al and he just thought you were the most beautiful person he'd ever seen. He wanted to know more about you and it was easy to fall more in love with you with the more he learned about you.

You seemed to always be around, not that Logan was complaining. He would come home from work, and you were there making dinner, he would wake up and you were there making a pot of coffee or standing at the kitchen counter trying to finish a last-minute work project. You were just always there.

At first, he thought it was just him assuming things, he knew that you and Wade had been friends for a few years now and that you two were close. You helped him become Deadpool, you helped him with the breakup with Vanessa, you just always helped so of course he understood why Wade would want you around. However, you started emerging from Wade's bedroom in the morning wearing his shirt or pajama pants. The two of you started whispering amongst each other and just seemed to be closer than before, so obviously he figured you and Wade had started seeing one another.

He was really hurt by this realization; he started to really fall for you and was wanting to ask you out, but he kept talking himself out of asking you. He was more hurt by Wade; he had confided in him about his feelings towards you and when Logan asked Wade what he should do Wade continued to reassure him that asking you out would be a great idea. 

Logan sent Wade glares all day trying to figure out what the hell was going on. It’s not like Wade didn’t deserve someone like you, but he was so ensuring that you felt the same as Logan. Wade deserved someone as sweet as you, but you were Logan's in his mind. He called dibs and Wade knew that. Now he’s dating her... What the fuck kind of friend does that? Logan shook his head; maybe it was a misunderstanding. It had to be that. Right? 

Tonight was movie night and Logan was excited to see you, he was hoping to get you alone for a moment and to finally talk things out. He had a strong feeling that the whole you dating Wade idea was a misunderstanding but the voice in the back of his head wouldn’t stop nagging him until he had the confirmation. Logan was sitting next to you on the couch and before he could say anything to you Wade plopped himself right next to you and showed you the movie he picked for the night. Apparently, it was your favorite. You squealed with excitement and gave Wade a hug, thanking him for finding the movie you’d been wanting to rewatch. Logan could feel himself deflate and curl into himself, maybe it wasn’t a misunderstanding. Maybe you actually did like Wade and Wade was just an asshole who wanted to fuck with Logan’s emotions. 

He wanted to leave movie night so bad; it felt like he wasn’t welcomed anymore, and he wasn’t paying any attention to the actual movie. He could feel his hands starting to shake and his ears were buzzing from trying to hold back from lashing out at Wade. His chest was getting tighter and tighter as he could hear himself scream in his head. As soon as the movie was over, he ran to his room trying to breathe again. Sitting next to you was his favorite thing in the world, having you close gave him the ability to smell your shampoo and body wash, it gave him the ability to feel grounded but now it felt like he was being suffocated. 

You watched as Logan ran from the living room to the spare room that he calls home now. You felt your heart break and your eyes started to sting as you blinked back tears. “Did we do something?” You asked Wade meekly and the merc felt growing frustration with his friend. “You didn’t do anything sweet cheeks. How about you head home, it’s getting late, and you know how everyone who lives here needs their beauty sleep” You giggled and nodded before getting up to collect your things. 

Wade waited for you to leave before he confronted his lovely roommate. 

“What the fuck was that Wolvie? Now she thinks she did something when you’re just a moron!” Wade huffed and got even more angry when Logan rolled his eyes, “Are you going through puberty? Is that the issue? Too much angst bottling up in you that you just can’t communicate anymore because then I think by law, I need to enroll you in high school or something.” 

“Oh, go fuck yourself I mean really do you ever shut up?” Logan muttered not wanting to look Wade in the eyes. Wade shook his head dramatically, “Nope, never it’s a disease. But I definitely won’t shut up when you hurt sweet cheeks feelings. What’s the deal? I thought you liked her?” Logan’s eyes snapped to Wade, and his anger finally boiled over. 

“Yeah, I do like her! You know this and you still get with her? What kind of shit are you playing at? Do you just get off on fucking with emotions” Logan lashed out, yelling at Wade.

Wade’s faces scrunches with confusion, “Get with her? I’m not with sweet cheeks metal man! I’ve been trying to convince her that you love her! I've been telling her all the stupid little facts about you! How do you think she knows how you like your coffee, or how you always are missing socks, she thinks you're this amazing man, and I finally had her believing that you loved her too when you wanted to act like a pre-teen! Now she’s home probably crying over the fact that you seem to hate her and can’t even be in the same room as her!” Wade groans loudly after his rant “Oh my god do I have to do everything in this universe!!” He sighed, calming himself and looked at Logan, “You are going to her apartment and apologizing and admitting your feelings for her. Then maybe you finally get fucked and I can meet the happy version of you too.” With that Wade left Logan alone to think and to get himself a beer.

Logan was left standing in his room with wide eyes. Wade was trying to convince you that he loves you…why would you need the convincing? Obviously Logan knew that he needed convincing, like look at him? Hundreds of years older than you, from a whole different universe than you, full of a dark past and trauma…but you loved him too? Or at least you did before he threw a hissy fit tonight. 

FUCK! Logan yelled out when he realized that he had to go fix this now! 

Tagging:

@userchai

@mahi-tamashi

@100percentlazybonez

@lanassmarty

@western-pyro

@misscrissfemmefatale

@marit332

@navs-bhat

@fluffy-b33z

@chaimshelii

@aoi-targaryen

@eyes-ofhell

@sad0ni0n

@fries11

[flyingseacow]

So, this is super simplified.

But.

I don't think these people really understand what is meant by "Automatic"

Because automatic just means that there is a system that can works without input, not that it never needs inputs or new data.

Like. Alright. My country? Denmark?

Laughs in universal healthcare - alright, sure, not everything is covered (Dental, glasses, prescriptions*) But the only time you really need to go do something yourself is to, you know, call the doctor.**

2. Once you turn 18, and if you are a full citizen, you will, in fact, be automatically registered as a voter. I literally get a letter in the mail at each election, local or national, spelling out exactly when and where need I go to vote.

I don't need to do anything.

Fully automated.

3. Alright, this is where the automatic thing gets slightly more complicated. But it is still fairly simple. Essentially the tax system will remember your income from the previous year, as well as any deductibles you should have, and calculate your taxes based on that. And this will be automatically applied to your salary each month, though the finance system of your employer. And this is partially automatic too, once you a registered in the system, the finance department will (or should) have a program and/or accountant that handles all of the initial calculations, based on data they get from Tax system.

Now, if you are self-employed you do need to do your initial tax calculations, or hire an accountant. But once set up, it is fairly simple.

And yes, if your situation changes (new job, you become eligible for new deductions, extra income or new loans) you need to go register it.

But that is the thing, this is all done directly in the tax system.

Like, I got a new job this year. So to be accurately taxed, and to avoid suddenly having to pay a ton of missing tax next year, I logged on to the central Tax database; Changed my projected yearly income to a calculated guess based on my new salary and recalculated (using the build-in calculator) my transport deduction.

It only took a few minutes.

And in December I will get a reminder to go check my numbers to see if they still apply for 2025, and then in February or March I will get a mail telling me if the initial calculations were correct.

Has nothing in your life really changed ? Then you can easily go for years without needing to do anything about your taxes.

*) There are certain types of treatments where you can apply for extra special aid, and we do have a health insurance system (Though it has a radical different set-up than in the US) and in some cases you have the legal rights for quicker/experimental treatment, but you still need to apply.

**) Our healthcare system has a cap on how much you should/can pay for prescription meds each year. Once you have paid a certain amount a percentage will automatically be deducted at the pharmacy. And in theory is is possible to get your meds for free after a certain point. Yes, it will reset once a year. But if you a reliant on a medication, the price will go down after each payout.

Healthcare insurance should be automatic.

Voter registration should be automatic.

Tax filing should be automatic.

[fairyofhee]

the space between. (TEASER)

PAIRING. heeseung x fem!reader

SYNOPSIS. It was a mutual agreement between you and the boy with high status and reputation to say that the kiss you both shared was a mistake and meant absolutely nothing. But while trying to win over your crush, you were distracted by that mistaken kiss from the boy who’s won over your heart.

GENRE. smut, slight love triangle, rich!heeseung, basketball player!heeseung, flower shop worker!reader, angst, hurt, fluff, bickering, some themes inspired by f4 thailand

WARNINGS. 18+ only; MINORS DNI. profanity, kissing, fingering, oral sex (m and f receiving), protected intimate sex

FIC RELEASE. Saturday, November 16 (12 AM EST)

TAGLIST. OPEN (SEND AN ASK OR COMMENT)

WORD COUNT. teaser 500 / fic 15.2k

—

The sound of the doorbell sent a jolt of nerves through you. You hurried to answer and as you open the door, you glance at Heeseung, who stood shifting on his feet with a tray of drinks in his hand.

“You’re 10 mins early,” you said, raising an eyebrow.

“I can leave then come back,” he replied with a half-smile.

“Get inside.”

He walked inside, peering around your home and following you into the kitchen before speaking.

“You’re welcome, by the way.”

“For the drinks? Thank you.”

“No, your boyfriend is coming over because I suggested that the three of us should work together,” he places the tray of drinks on the countertop. “And I figured that if I leave early, you guys can spend time alone.”

You shake your head, “You don’t have to do that.”

“Yeah, well, I thought it’d be nice.”

“I have a few questions,” he suddenly says.

“Let me guess,” you replied. “It’s not about the project?”

“Did you kiss him yet?”

You raised an eyebrow, confusion flickering across your face. “No, nothing’s happened between us.”

Heeseung chewed on his bottom lip and let silence pass by. The air between you crackled with unspoken tension as he suddenly walked towards you. You could feel the electric pull of his proximity, a magnetic force that had been intensifying ever since he’d stepped inside your house.

Your heart raced as you looked up at him, it felt like deja vu when his doe eyes were searching yours for permission.

You hide the fact that you were panicking when Heeseung leaned closer. You had nowhere to go as the kitchen counter was behind you. His breath was warm against your face, then he licked his bottom lip, you knew he wanted to kiss you again.

“Heeseung,” you said, your voice betraying a mixture of frustration and vulnerability. “I still have feelings for Sunghoon.”

You reached out, gently placing a hand on his arm, “And you have a girlfriend.”

He laughs. “You’re trying to find excuses to not kiss me right now even though you want to.”

Your hands meet his chest as you gently push him. “You’re annoying,” the hint of a smile tugging at your lips, “And I’m not a homewrecker.”

You watched as he took a hesitant step forward. “So you’re saying that if I was single, you wouldn’t be opposed to kissing me again?”

You try to find your voice, a simple response to reject him, but couldn’t.

“I’m not dating Ji-ho,” he shakes his head, “We’re just-“

The sound of the doorbell interrupts him.

“We’re just friends, it’s nothing serious.” He admits.

“That’s probably Sunghoon at the door,” you step aside and head for the front door, trying to keep your cool and shake off what just happened.

—

© 2024, fairyofhee on tumblr.

note. finally releasing this after a year of it sitting in the drafts! i’m excited to everyone to read it ��� taglist is open!

[sugawarassoulmate]

enemies to lovers!kita 🥲🥲 would be so obsessed w u 🥲🥲 and one certain fuck makes u realize because he keeps saying things that only men in Love would say 🥲🥲

he takes it all back post nut

enemies to lovers!kita is absolutely obsessed with reader and it's so !!!!!

words: 440

cw: fem!reader, jealousy, unprotected sex, minors dni

kita absolutely doesn't get jealous.

but he hasn’t stopped pestering you about the guy he caught you having lunch with at the cafe last week. it’s so annoying. it’s just some guy from class you met up with about a project. you didn’t think much about it—there wasn’t much to think about.

even kita’s unsure why it keeps replaying in his head. the two of you are exclusive, if you could even call it that. he doesn’t care if you sleep with another person (but you’re not) just like it’s none of your business if he does the same (but he doesn’t)

you’ve forgotten all about his annoying line of questions when it's a few days later and kita "somehow" ends up in your bed again.

he has you on top, a position you typically hate because he makes you do all the work but something seems different about him tonight.

kita loves nothing more than to see you beg for him, wanting you to admit that you need him to get yourself off but instead he’s fucking you like he has something to prove.

he's kneeling in the center of the bed with his back straight as he has you bouncing in his lap. it's too close for comfort, too intimate for the both of you.

but you're wrapping your legs around him anyway, somehow pulling him closer as his fingers tangle in your hair.

"aw, yer dripping all over me. ya like it when i manhandle ya, huh?" kita grunts. it's so unlike him to be talkative in bed but tonight he can't shut up.

“bet nobody else gets ya like this. just me, right?” he kisses you between his words. it’s sloppy, drool coating both your lips. “i can feel ya about to cum. go ahead, remind me how stupid i make ya."

you don't know what's more humiliating, the words coming out of his mouth or the effect it has on your body.

your toes curl when you finally cum on kita's cock, nearly missing the small praise leaving his lips as he feels you gush around him. "good girl, i knew ya could do it."

he doesn't give you a break but rather keeps you sitting on his cock when he finally spills his seed inside you. even then you're still on his lap, collapsed into his chest as he mumbles something about not wanting his cum to run out.

you don't pay much attention, though. if you did you'd probably question why the guy who claims to hate you is running his fingers up and down your back while you fall asleep against him.

©sugawarassoulmate 2024 all rights reserved - please do not repost/translate my work on other platforms!

[kurooangel]

⠀៹   𔘓  MAGIC FINGERS. ✦ ft kuroo tetsuro. ᡣ𐭩

content: smut. timeskip!haikyuu. relationship established. masterlist. wc: +0.7k

kuroo arrived late night at home, but you were awake when he entered your shared bedroom. "oh babe, here you are." he went to the bed and layed next to you, still with his suit on. you chuckled when he wrapped his arms around your waist. "why are you late, tetsu?" he lifted his head from the pillow and sat so he could undress himself. "I wanted to finish the project I'm working on as soon as possible so I can take free days." he said, taking off his suit jacket. you nodded, watching how he undressed himself until only his boxers were left and grabbed his pyjama.

"c'mere, tetsu. sit down." he arched an eyebrow, but he did it. "want to have fun now, princess? I thought you were tired." you weren't seeing his face, but you could tell he was smirking. "no, idiot." you chuckled. "but your back is so tense." your hands caressed his bare back, each muscle relaxing under your touch. "maybe I'm a bit stressed, but it's okay, babe. no need to worry— holy shit, baby keep doing that" he said when your soft hands started massaging his shoulders, your thighs at each side of his hips. "god, it feels so damn good." he leaned into your touch, enjoying the sensation and the relief it brought to his tense muscles. you chuckled and your hands went lower, massaging his broad back.

"you have magic fingers, I swear." he said as he closed his eyes, letting you work on his shoulders. "just as you, but you work them on a different place." you whispered playfully. kuroo laughed, still with his eyes closed. "oh, you mean that sweet spot of yours?" he teased. "you know what I mean." he opened his eyes and turned his head back to see your face and your slightly blushed cheeks. "damn right I do." his voice flirty as he whispered those words with a playful expression in his face. one of his hands started caressing your thigh, going up and down. "you look gorgeous when you're focused like this." he said, his amber eye roaming over your face as his hand went under your short nightgown. he wanted to turn fully around, but you looked so cute and your massage felt so good that he just turn around again, looking again at the turned off tv and the reflection of both of you in the black screen. "I thought I always looked gorgeous in your eyes." you teased him and he laughed. "you do, baby, you do. but you look absolutely breathtaking focused on my back and wearing this sexy nightgown."

you giggled and continued massaging his soft back, taking care of the knots he had on it, but your nails dug on his flesh when he ground his thumb against your covered slit. "is there any problem, sweetheart?" he said feigning innocence while he pulled your panties to the side and rubbed a finger against your core. "damn, you're already wet." he chuckled. "tetsu, I'm tired. maybe— fuuuckk— maybe tomorrow." you moaned as you rested your forehead against his shoulder when he pulled two fingers inside you. "how could I do that? you're working your magic with your fingers, let me work mine." he turned around to grab your hips with his free hand and place you on his lap. his hardness was against your thigh, but he didn't pay attention to himself: his goal was to please you. his fingers started moving, thrusting into your walls and you buried your head in the crook of his neck, giving him sloppy kisses to shut yourself up and, of course, show him your love. "that's my pretty girl. you're squeezing my fingers so good." his hand abandoned your hip and went down to your ass, smacking it once. your grip on him hardened and you bit his neck, a few tears falling from your eyes: it was too much only with his fingers, but you're not complaining, you love it; you love him.

"baby, I'm gonna— shiittt— I'm coming." you whine against his neck as you dig your nails further in his skin. "that's it, gorgeous. come in my fingers." he whispered in your ear in a low growl. one of your hands went down to rub his hardness covered by his boxers and he fastened the pace, making you reach your ecstasy while he kissed you fiery. if you knew this before, you would've massaged him every single day.

I don't know if the pose when you were massaging him it's clear but it's like this:

your thigh him your thigh

you

it makes sense to me okay😭😭

[giuseppe-yuki]

👻 anais' halloween blurbos 👻

summary: it's well known that formula 1 was a cutthroat and and merciless sport. that's why, when murder and other shenanigans are legalized by the fia during race weekends to add a little drama in the paddock, all hell breaks loose. fans going missing, reporters being found dead, team employees writhing in pain for no apparent reason. it seemed like everyone would do most anything to win the sparkling championship trophy. luckily for a few select drivers, they have a little advantage with supernatural powers on their side.

or: supernatural!reader x driver mini oneshots (kind of purge!au (?))

warnings: mentions of death, gore, murder, hurting people, and curse words

total w.c.: 5k

picture credits from pinterest :)

I - fallen angel - yt22

II - vampire - op81

III - ghost - zg24

IV - bat!shapeshifter - pg10

V - witch - gr63

VI - hellhound!shapeshifter - cs55

a/n: a quick little project i meant to put out before halloween but i got a little sidetracked with my other fics... i'm going to pretend that it's still spooky season and totally NOT november :P

ALSO i feel obligated to say i don't condone doing anything in these blurbs irl- hurting people for any reason is NOT okay.

I - fallen angel - yt22

yuki always called you an angel. with your entrancing looks and ability to light up any room that you were in, it was hard not to compare you to an ethereal being. when you walk outside holding yuki's hand, you don't miss the stares of envious women and salicious men when the way the sun seemed to create a halo around your head, and air seemed to shimmer around you. little did he know, you were an angel. well, you used to be, until some petty arguments and pointed fingers resulted in you losing your wings and falling into the mortal world. now, you spent your life dedicated to tempt others to sin.

this worked perfectly, because while yuki focused on dominating on track and getting maximum points, you could use your full power and focus on other aspects- like making sure your boyfriend didn't get fucked over by unfair officials of the sport.

"do good out there, okay?" you say to your boyfriend, giving him a hug and a kiss on his recognizable japanese maple leaf helmet.

he smiles back at you, only visible through his flipped-up visor.

soon enough, it was lights out, and the drivers were sent on their way, throttling around the night track.

you settle in a padded chair that a starstruck engineer pulled up for you while monitoring the multiple tvs that lined the garage. most of them showed the live feeds of the drivers aggressively battling on track, using dirty racing to cut their way to the lead. you took pleasure in seeing yuki gain several positions as he overtook the battling fernando and liam. his engineers burst in rambunctious applause, but it quiets down rather quickly, notifying you that something was amiss.

you turn around to see the engineers crowded around a singular data computer. storming out of your chair, you snatch a nearby engineer's arm, roughly turning him around.

"can you tell me what just happened?" you ask with mock-sweetness, pointing your chin the whispering group of engineers that hid the computer screen from your eyes.

he gulps, knowing that you had the power to hurt him, especially with the fia's rules, and stammers out an answer, even if he knew you wouldn't like it.

"w-w-well," he stutters, "apparently, the stewards gave yuki a penalty for false start and forcing a driver off track. he'll have to- um- serve it when he comes in for a pitstop."

there's no way, you think, angrily. a false start and forcing a driver off track? what a load of bullshit. were they actually even watching the race? someone had to pay for this.

your heels clacked as you strutted through the linoleum floors of the fia building. the walls shook from the sheer forces of the cars on track barreling by, probably halfway through the race. stalking through the stale white hallways and up a flight of stairs, you finally find the room you were looking for- a dark wooden one that proudly held a silver sign that had the words 'stewards' carved into it neatly. you take a deep breath and turn on your full dazzling skills before knocking gently on the door.

an older gentleman, shirt marked with the telltale fia symbol and orange lanyard, opens the door. the perfect victim. he falters a bit when sees you, practically glowing, even in the hallway's dim lighting.

"c-c-can i help you miss?" he asks, face turning a bit red and hand instinctively reaching up to to loosen his collar. you tended to have that affect on people when you wanted to.

"yes," you drawl, purposely batting your long lashes at him. "i have a something to show you."

he shakes his head nervously, eyes glued to something that was definitely not your face. "no, no, no, i have a job to do-"

"oh, come on," you say, pouting, "it's just down the hall!"

you turn and strut down the hall, purposefully showing off your long legs, knowing that there was no doubt he would follow you out of the room. when you turn back around at the end of the hall, the steward, like you predicted, had naively followed you like a dog to a bone.

you don't even make sure that no one was close by before plunging a dagger straight into his heart. he slumps down on the ground, blood flowing out of the fatal wound. you blow him a kiss, before flouncing away back towards yuki's garage. that will teach the stewards a lesson before giving your boyfriend unfair penalties.

II - vampire - op81

when oscar met you, you seemed like a shy little thing with your timid personality and reserved smiles. he swore that you could do nothing wrong. i mean, how could you, when you were scared of such small things like sunburns or funnily enough, garlic bread? the first time he introduced you to the paddock as his girlfriend, he kept a good watch on you. if he didn't, he was so sure that they were going to eat you alive just to gain an advantage on him.

and that's also why, when he heard the news of yet another important paddock member going missing, he was so sure that it was you.

"fuck!" oscar shouts, raking a hand through his sweaty hair. "i leave to do one five minute interview and she disappears!"

ignoring the stares of the reporters and cameramen who turn in surprise to his outburst, he yanks the clip-on mic off of his fireproofs and chucks it at his interviewer's head. if he found his girlfriend dead on the floor, bleeding out, it would be this stupid interviewer's fault.

he stalks off without a word, listing potential places that his girlfriend could possibly be taken in his head.

behind him, lando skips in the shadow of oscar's steps, grinning around the rubber straw of his water bottle that was clenched between his teeth.

"you better hurry, osc!" he trills, "you know what happened to ocon's little girlfriend when she went missing- she was found-"

oscar snaps back, interrupting lando. "yes i know, she was found at the bottom of a goddamn dumpster. you don't have to remind me."

it was a fresh memory in his head. ever since the fia allowed murder, during race weekends, all hell had broke loose. vip guests dropping dead, officials found with broken necks. whoever had murdered poor ocon's girlfriend had did a great deal of damage mentally on esteban, resulting in multiple poor finishes for him during race weekends. oscar never thought it would happen to himself.

frustrated, he roughly shoves lando away from him, pointing in the direction of the red bull garage.

"why don't you go blow up max's tyre like you did in australia or something!" he shouts, clearly annoyed by lando's constant pestering.

oscar doesn't wait for a response from lando before sprinting down to the mclaren motorhome. he checks each individual door to the bathroom, kitchen, and computer rooms when he finally stumbles upon a door with a blood red liquid seeping out the bottom. a muffled thud sounds from within, and he winces automatically.

he closes his eyes, praying that you died a peaceful death, before slowly turning the silver knob of the storage closet.

to his surprise, the the grey, pale, body of otmar szafnauer thumps out into the hallway, head rolling. the side of his neck is a bloody mess, probably the source of the pool of blood now seeping into the carpet and staining the edge of his racing shoes. there, stood primly behind otmar's repulsive body, is you, without a drop of blood on your pretty pink dress. you send oscar a bashful smile, revealing your fangs covered in the cherry-red liquid.

picking up your skirts, you step over the ex-alpine team manager and carefully close the door to the rather stuffy closet you were just in. he'll probably be found by the janitor in the next 24 hours or so.

you peck a quick kiss on oscar's cheek, unknowingly getting a bit of blood on his skin.

"i got rid of otmar for you, baby," you say quietly, fiddling with your fingers. "i hope you don't mind- i heard he gave you a hard time last year."

III - ghost - zg24

you were dead. no, literally. you passed away 5 years ago- beheaded after you fell off of a high building you suppose, going off of how you could pull your head off your neck if you wanted to, and the fact that you always had phantom back pains. it worked out quite beautifully that you were dead already when the fia announced its new rule.

as opposed to the girlfriends of several other select drivers that tended to play a rather active part in gaining the best advantage for their boyfriends on track, you tended to be a little more laid back. however, one thing you could never excuse was when people talked shit about your boyfriend, zhou.

zhou grips your hand tightly in his as you both walked down through the paddock. you loved how his fashionable clothes glittered brightly under the lit lamp posts that lined the walkway. the sun had set, which meant the night race was starting soon. the crowds of fans in the paddock had somehow gotten thicker, and the hired security that zhou had gotten struggled just the tiniest bit holding the horde back.

like you always do when you get nervous, you flicker in-between your solid and ghost form. your boyfriend clocks this right away, especially since that this meant his hand, which was holding firmly holding yours, passed right through you. he stops, looking at you concerningly.

"hey, you alright?" he asks, brows furrowed. "i can-" before he can finish his sentence, an apple flies out of the crowd of fans and bounces off his shoulder, landing at the place where your translucent foot is supposed to be.

the fan that threw it begins to shout obscene remarks directed at both you and zhou, before being dragged away by security.

an anger flares through you. who did she think she was? throwing an apple at your boyfriend's head? that had to count as a murder attempt.

you flicker more rapidly between your states, to which zhou takes your hand.

"hey, it's fine," your boyfriend says, squeezing your hand comfortingly. "forget it- my security will deal with them. let's go to the garage, okay?"

you nod slowly, letting your boyfriend lead the way, but oh, you don't forget.

you wait, in your ghost form, in the metal supports of the grandstand. drifting aimlessly, you pop up here and there to scare the crap out of some random fan, when you finally spot your target. the fan from earlier tirelessly climbs the lengthy walk to the grandstands. she's decked out in alpine merch, which makes you scoff. why criticize zhou's team when the very team she was rooting for wasn't doing so well either?

you watch as she settles herself at the very top seat of the grandstand, waving her little alpine flag. what a pity. if only she wasn't so rude. when the cars roar around the corner and she stands up to cheer, it isn't hard for you to reach out your hands and push. a look of recognition registers in her face before she falls backwards off of the high-up stands. she screams, but who hears her over the loud engines as they make their way around the turn? except you, of course. she lands on the ground with a sick splat, likely breaking her back and neck the way you did when you died. you float for a moment over the carnage before floating away to your rightful spot in zhou's garage. serves her right, you suppose.

IV - bat!shapeshifter - pg10

the second pierre found out about your special "ability," he didn't hesitate to take advantage of it. sending you to spy on the other team's cars? check. going to pester the invasive reporters who only cared about spreading yet another rumor? check. monitoring around him to make sure there wasn't any people trying to attack him in the paddock? check.

you didn't mind of course- anything to help your boyfriend one step closer to his end goal. you hated seeing him coming home, again and again, dejected over the progress he's made, no matter how hard he tried, no matter how hard he raced.

today, a night race, gave you an opportunity to give your boyfriend another chance at points. with the sky being pitch black, it made it easier to navigate around without being seen.

in the garage, under the harsh incandescent lights, engineers and alpine employees mill around, checking data and making any final adjustments to the car. before long, pierre gets the green lights to drive up to the starting spots on the track. just prior to pulling on his helmet and climbing into his shitbox of a car, he pulls you close.

"remember what we talked about, okay?" he whispers into your ear, playing it off as a tight hug.

you nod, pressing a kiss to his freshly-shaven jaw.

"of course, baby," you respond earnestly.

when the car rumbles awake and your boyfriend steers the car towards the starting grid postions, you take off running as well. taking a flying leap behind the car, you shift into your bat form and fly up, up, up, into the rapidly darkening sky.

you sit patiently on a tree branch near the track, watching carefully with your sensitive night vision. like you planned, when you spot the telltale black carbon-fiber and vibrant red bull car pull in towards the pitlanes, you dive bomb down back towards the garages. it takes a second, maybe even quicker, to find the engineers poised with the fresh tyres ready for max verstappen's pretty little rb20. you don't hesitate to sink your pointy teeth into their unprotected necks, one by one. the venom in your saliva works quick, and by the time max pulls into his pitstop spot, his pit crew all lay on the ground, incapacitated.

huh, that worked suprisingly well, you think, soaring away from the crime scene. maybe you should try that again in the next prix.

V - witch - gr63

with the fia implementing the barbarous rules at every prix at every calendar, you would think people would be more scared to come. however, it seemed like the audience doubled, if not tripled ever since the rule was announced. something about 'the thrill of it,' lewis had said when you asked him. so, like the crowds of fans lingering in the fanzones, the vips and sponsors visiting the paddock club increased significantly, eager to get a look at the track action and drama between drivers like it was some drama movie.

so, the only thing that made sense to do was to profit off of it, of course. with your magic and brewing pot at hand, you could do most anything to the pompous rich pricks who wanted nothing more than an in to the thrilling secrets of the bloodthirsty sport of formula 1.

"what are you wearing tonight, darling?" the vip asks, flaunting her massive diamond ring in your peripheral vision, obviously fishing for complements. it shined tauntingly in the colored overhead lights at the exclusive paddock club event. jazzy music and the clinking of glasses drown out the pretentious conversations of yet another pair of billionaires talking about their newest private jet acquisition or supercar purchase.

you fake a half-hearted smile at her, smoothing down your own outfit.

"i'm not really sure. i just pulled it out of my closet, i suppose."

failing to get a proper response from you, she smooths down her own glittering dress haughtily and brushes her carefully styled hair behind her ears.

"well, i'm wearing all ysl. the heels themselves cost at least 1.3k!" she exclaims, pointing to the rather painful-looking heels holding up her feet.

just then, your boyfriend appears next to you, lips wide in a smile.

"hello, darling," he says, handing you a drink from the bar. it's a small glass of margarita, coincidentally matching the one in the pompous vip's hand.

"it's not poisoned, i promise," he says to you, making you roll your eyes. the vip, hearing this, laughs.

"so exciting, isn't it? with all the fia's rules, i can't wait to finally see some more drama on track tomorrow," she says giddily, as if george wasn't in grave danger every day, on track and in the paddock because of people like her. dropping her voice down to a scandalous whisper, she continues, "i heard, some fan fell- or was pushed off the grandstands last night!" she giggles, waving her hand. "honestly though, i would probably jump too, if i had to sit in those grimy seats."

you and george both exchange looks of disgust, but she doesn't catch it as a well-dressed gentleman walks up with a grin, giving her a polite hug.

"ah! ricca, how nice to see you again! i haven't seen you since- what, our little outing to bali a month ago? wanted a little bit of racing action now huh?" he asks, swishing his whiskey on the rocks. he turns after finishing his sentence, as if just realizing you and your boyfriend's presence. his gives the both of you a demeaning look, as if you were the ones butting into the conversation instead of him. however, after a beat, his eyes grow wide, and it is obvious when it clicks in his brain where he has seen george.

"oh my!" he proclaims, clutching his chest. "you're that- that racing driver! what's your name again? lando norrin? ferdinand alonso?"

that really said a lot about the reason these socialites were here. who the fuck was ferdinand?

your boyfriend, like the kind-hearted person he was, pastes on a smile and gently corrects the man.

"er- no, sir. i'm george russell- driver for mercedes."

"as i thought," he states with no shame. he then loudly clinks his drink with the young lady, ricca's, glass, and they both down their respective liquids.

you literally could not take it anymore.

"let me take those onto the bar for you," you offer helpfully to the affluent pair. "another whiskey and margarita?"

they have the decency to thank you tipsily before shoving the empty glasses in your hand. you turn back to george, giving him a kiss on the cheek.

"i'll be right back," you whisper.

squeezing through the crush of the crowd, you station yourself in an mostly empty table in the corner of the room placed next to a floor-to-ceiling window. the empty glasses in your hand clink when you set it on the table, the last dregs of the drinks swirling at the bottom of the glasses. a quick wave of your hand summons fresh ice cubes in each glass, and a practiced flick of your middle finger and thumb sends a stream of margarita and whiskey out of thin air into its respective glasses. from your pocket, you retrieve a vial of silver liquid that you brewed just about every grand prix. with a hint of nightshade, wings of a spanish fly, and ground up pearls, it made the drinker do whatever you wanted, really. after carefully pouring half into each drink, you throw the empty vial into the air, where it is promptly teleported to your vial cabinet back in george's driver room.

perfect.

before heading back, you take one last look through the glass that presented the night sky and darkened track below. the track still had streaks of black from the burnt rubber from the race only a few hours ago.

it was a wonderful sport really. it was a shame that implemented these barbaric rules that forced your hand. but if that's what you had to do for george, then you would do it.

it didn't take very long for the potion to take effect. you could tell from their slurred speech and slow movements that one could pass off as being drunk.

deciding to waste no time, you pull out your quill pen and paper out of a hidden pocket in your dress. it levitates in the air, visible to only you.

with a nod to george, you both go through the usual spiel- bank account numbers? passwords? credit card numbers?

the vips list off the information as if it is public knowledge, unknowingly allowing your quill to copy the numbers and sensitive information into your notebook.

when you are satisfied, you slip the notebook back into your pocket.

"alright, i think we're done here, georgie," you say to your boyfriend, ignoring the two figures that sway, silent, next to the two of you.

george pouts.

"aww, i was really having fun with that!" he whines.

"well," you shoot back, raising an eyebrow. "do you want to stay at this god-forsaken place where you might be stabbed by "ferdinand" alonso for no reason or do you want to go home to our comfy flat?"

he shrugs.

"i guess you have a point," he says unhappily.

taking his hand, you lead him out of the still-packed event, but not before slipping another vial of blood-red liquid into their drinks- mind-wiping serum that worked perfectly every single time, except the fact that it also had a tiny side effect of excruciating pain that lasted a few hours.

eh, they deserved it for not even knowing your boyfriend's name.

tomorrow- if they even survived- they would wake up to see their bank accounts drained. you suppose you should send them a thank-you letter next time for single-handedly sponsoring the next merc upgrades, even if they didn't know it.

VI - hellhound!shapeshifter - cs55

at this point in time, you didn't care anymore. you dared one person- a fan, an official, or opposing team member to try again to break into carlos' driver room. they never seemed to learn their lesson of how loyal and protective you were of your boyfriend. one bite with your teeth are sure to dismember an arm and one swipe of your paw could brake even the most sturdy tire drills, as demonstrated with the last haas mechanic that tried in vain to murder carlos.

it might not seem like it, the way you were curled in carlos' arms on his couch. you practically had your face buried in his red branded hoodie, half-asleep, while he scrolled mindlessly on his phone. it's so soft and comfy, you can't help let out a soft snore as you drift off.

carlos laughs, chest rumbling, patting your head with his free hand. "i thought you were supposed to be on guard, protecting me, mi amor!"

opening your eyes a tiny bit, you pull yourself even closer to carlos, reveling in the warmth of his body.

"i am on alert," you defend, but it doesn't help your case the way your voice comes out muffled from being pressed against his hoodie. "i am always list-"

footsteps.

you hear a pair of scuffled footsteps from the hallway outside of carlos' door, thanks to your exceptional hearing. it slowly drags closer and closer to the only door out of the room, a slow patter of sneaker on pavement that is only audible to you.

without wasting a second, you leap up off the couch and shift into your hellhound form, baring your sharp teeth towards the door, poised, ready to attack whatever poor soul that had decided had your boyfriend was an easy target.

behind you, carlos slides off the couch slowly, recognizing something was wrong.

a knock sounds on the door, making him flinch and eliciting a warning growl from you. however, when both you and carlos don't move an inch toward the entryway, the door slowly slides open.

you muster up all the power you have to leap straight at the attacker, making sure to aim for the neck. but before you can pounce and go for the kill, carlos roughly yanks you back by the scruff of your neck.

"woahwoahwoah," he says to you, pushing your foaming mouth away from the cowering man in the doorway. "it's fine- it's okay!"

you snap at the man once, making sure to purposely show off your canines, but back off a little into the room. if carlos said the man was safe, you wouldn't go against his words.

carlos scratches his head, briefly apologizing to what you realize was his head race engineer, riccardo adami, explaining the precautions he had to take in light of the fia's new rules.

riccardo laughs nervously, but proceeds to let carlos know that he is wanted in the media pen.

carlos holds your hand in his when you stroll down the lighted walkways of the paddock. you flounce your way past the plush couches next to the walkway and the little cafe/bar that served absolutely bomb coffee and cocktails. honestly, you missed the times before the fia's stupid fucking rule where you could drink cocktails with alex's girlfriend or gossip with yuki's girlfriend without fearing that they would poison your drinks or strangle you behind the mclaren hospitality just to help their boyfriends. you guess you still could if you really wanted to, though. maybe you'll do the poisoning and strangling if really needed.

lost in thought, you miss the fake smile the interviewer gives you before dragging your boyfriend off into the media pen.

throwing yourself onto the said couches from before, you convince yourself that he'd probably be fine, but you make sure to keep an eye out and train yourself to listen to any concerning sounds within all the chatter and crowds.

to your surprise, the interview ends quite early, and you have hardly taken a sip of your iced coffee (even though it was, like, 8pm a the track) before carlos storms out of the media pen.

"you okay?" you ask your boyfriend concerningly as you take another swig of the still-full iced coffee in your hand.

carlos huffs angrily, running a hand through his hair, before grasping your free hand to lead you back to his driver's room.

"it's fine, let's just go," he says dismissively, straight-up dragging you behind him.

you pull him to stop with your strength, and glare at him with your arms crossed.

"no! carlos sainz, you tell me what happened in there," you demand.

he rolls his eyes. "well, that stupid interviewer just kept on asking me questions about my thoughts on the missing otmar, dead steward, the fan "falling" from the stands, and all that bullshit that i said didn't want to talk about. i told her i wanted to talk about the race, but then she just responded with a question about my reaction to max's pit crew being injected with some type of venom. i was so done at that point, i just walked out."

you frown. that woman sure sounded like a bitch. honing in your hearing to find the woman through the noise in the media pen, you hear what you assume to be the interviewer mention carlos' name.

"...no, and like i felt like he was so hard to work with," she laughs.

perhaps she was talking to a friend in the media pen?

"...yeah, and he wouldn't answer any of my questions- like what am i going to put in my article? nothing?" she says incredulously. "honestly," she continues, "i hope he dies next on the grid, so it'll make it easier for the next poor reporter who has do an article on him, because then, she won't have to go through the misery of interviewing him!"

a symphony of giggles from a group follow her sentence, a few muttering their agreement.

you turn back to carlos, purposely blocking off the noise of the media pen in your ear, and give him a genuine smile. pressing a kiss to his stubbled cheek, you comfort him, "i'm sorry that happened to you, baby. i'm sure it won't happen again- ever."

true to your word, you wait until carlos is proccupied with arguing with charles in the hospitality about one of the controversial on-track battles that took place earlier in the day when you make your move.

the sky is dark, throughly littered with sparkling diamonds, when you pad through the mostly-empty paddock towards the media pen. several fans and officials, seeing your demonic form, scamper out of the way in an effort to avoid your wrath.

you spot your target with your sharp eyesight immediately, walking wobbly in her high heels with a clipboard in one hand. several of her reporter friends huddle next to her, their laughs echoing through the darkened paddock.

time to enact your plan.

stopping a meter behind them, you use your sharp claws to draw a circle on the ground. with three taps of your paw and a breath of fire into the middle, the pavement slides away to reveal a portal into a fiery pit. you're not too sure where it leads, but you don't really plan on finding out either.

silently scampering over to the group, you clamp your jaws down the legs of one of the people that you heard agreeing with the interviewer. you ignore the group's screams before roughly dragging the woman towards the pit. she falls, and it's not long before her yells are covered up in the rumble of the flames.

even when the group scatters in different ways, it doesn't take long with your supernatural speed to catch up to them and drag each person into the pit. you purposely save the main interviewer for last.

when she lies at the edge of the pit, arm bleeding profusely from the wounds from your teeth, you shift back into your human form.

"don't fucking talk shit about my boyfriend ever again," you snarl.

with a shove from your arm, she falls backwards into the deep fire pit with the rest of her "friends."

if carlos was hard to work with, you bet whatever demons down there were so much more harder to work with. oh well, that was her problem.

[polonium-snap]

Fic rec for your bkdkbk post-canon woes

Now that MHA is over I've been satisfying my bkdkbk needs with fics like one does, so I made this fic rec of the best fanfics I've read over the past few months. Unintentionally most of them are rated E, idk why, if you want more fics, feel free to check my ao3 bookmarks, I have over 1000 bkdk fics bookmarked

DISCLAIMER: Please check the tags and warnings thoroughly before reading any of the fics here

Multichapter:

You Gave Me Purpose, Kacchan by wowschreave | Rated T | Post-canon

The first in what I call the "Post-canon holy trinity" I've already talked about this one so much but I'll do it again because this is THE post-canon fic, plus it has amazing, beautiful, wonder-who-made-this-masterpiece ART lol

promises kept by gabstar | Rated E | Post-canon | BKDK

The second instalment of the Post-canon trinity, starring co-depended BKDK which is one of my favorite flavors

Count to Infinity by socksasgloves | Rated T | Post-canon | BKDK

The completion of the holy trinity with more Post-canon goodness because it's what I crave on a cold night

The night we decided to be brave by Albipepo | Rated E | BKDKBK | Accidental parents

I love this one so much, I hated both of them for being stupid half of the time but it's so so worth it

i'm not myself when i'm without you by YunaTuna | Rated M (but I would rate it E) | Possesive BKDK

This one is so interesting and dark, I'm obsessed with possessive Deku and this hits all the right marks and more

And the world went still by Saiyasha | Rated E | BKDK | (temporary) Mayor Character Death | Established relationship

GUT-WRENCHING, this one hits so hard, I nearly died, but it thankfully has a happy ending

Kacchan vs the Internet by palavering | Rated T | Soc Med

This one is not complete but read it read it please it's so good, and the social media aspect is so peak, like I can rave for hours on how well the author uses CSS

Baby Bottles and Blushing Faces by derDschungelderRosen | Rated T

Baby Project is a classic but I adore this take on the idea so much, plus it's hilarious

keep the rain by gheemin | Rated T | Post-canon

I adore how introspective this one is, it also overwhelmed me with feels

Fake it, 'till you make it. by Princess_ofPizza | Rated M| Charades

Drinking games are always bad ideas, unless you're bkdk in which case carry on

Inhibitionless by Sonday | Rated E | Quirk shenanigans

Horny quirks are the best

You Had Me From the Start by bellbloom | Rated E| BKDK| Artist x Bartender AU

As an artist myself Artist!Izuku scratches an itch I didn't know I had

A Starving Artist's Success by StevieBanks | Rated M | BKDK | Artist x Fashion designer AU

Which is why I have two fics with artist Deku, also kind of a meet-cute

Unraveled by omicroncet | Rated M | BKDK |

Three words; sleep deprived Izuku

One-shots:

love in the making by Kacchdeku | Rated G | Post-Canon | BKDK

Third-wheel Kota is the best

Sturdy Heart by lurethegalaxy | Rated T | Post-canon| Established Relationship

Angsty but so so so good

pacemaker by passengerside | Rated T | Post-war | Canon-compliant

The pacemaker scene has me dead, ascending, AND there's art?!!

The Eight Years Between by Loriqod | Rated T | Post-canon | Established relationship

I love when fics fill in the gaps of the canon content

Embers by UglyGreenJacket | Rated T | Post-canon | angst with a happy ending | Established relationship

My poor baby Izuku needs a hug, thankfully Katsuki is there to give it to him

king of hearts by nikkiRA | Rated E | Quirk shenanigans

This quirk is so creative and cute and I love that it also includes their other classmates reactions

crepe date by isidium | Rated T | Fluff

'Cause we all think about that one crepe comment Izuku made one (1) time and so does Katsuki

chasing the rabbit by mimiwrites | Rated T | Amnesia

Even more Quirk shenanigans because those are always so fun

love is a labour (i'll slave til the end) by nikkiRA| Rated E| Omegaverse| DKBK

I love LOVE Omega! Katsuki and you can take him from my cold dead hands

Talk After Talk by beanbeanrose | Rated T | Post-war

This is just them talking but i love it so much

GG by MajestyTime | Rated T | Crack treated seriously

This one is all over the place but in a good way, it played off as a laugh but it has a very interesting what-if scenario

If I'm Being Honest by Queen_of_the_Otakus | Rated M | Truth serum (kinda)

Forced truth situations are so funny because it's never that deep but everyone still freaks out

Thanks for reading!!! Hope you guys like the fics I chose

[aziraphales-library]

hi there! I was wondering if you had any ineffable wives fics where one of them is trans fem. I'm hoping to find something that reminds me of me and my girlfriend :D any rating would be appreciated. thank you so much, have an amazing day!

Hello! Here are some ineffable wives where one of them is trans...

I only want to look in your eyes by orphan_account (E)

Crowley was laid out on the bed, her shirt off, her chest already flushed with eagerness. Her long, luxurious red curls spread out around her head, and her eyes - beautiful liquid golden things, glowing now with joy - made Aziraphale think of the sun. “Love,” Aziraphale said, and leaned over Crowley, down from where she straddled Crowley’s thighs, kissing her forehead tenderly. “You’re so beautiful.” Aziraphale rides her wife, and they're both so full of love they think they'll explode.

till love have all his rites by marveling_under_an_open_sky (G)

“Hello there,” a voice said. “Do you need a hand?” Crowley straightened up and began to turn with a firm rebuttal already on her tongue. She might be skinny enough to give a sunflower stalk a run for its money, but she’d been wrangling plants for years, thank you very much, and she was perfectly capable of— Jesus fuck. The author just really loves butches, all right?

Creative Ways to Use Your Planning Period by The_Bentley (E)

“We have an hour.  You wanna?”  Crowley whispered in Aziraphale’s ear before leaving a rather chaste kiss on her softly rounded cheekbone. “Here?  Are you out of your mind?” “No.  Nobody’s going to come around, and we can certainly make sure if they do, they’ll find they have more important business than opening up this door.”  Crowley was walking slowly into Aziraphale, pushing her towards the teacher’s desk at the front of the room, ideas forming in her head. When Warlock leaves for his lunch period, his tutors have some sneaky fun of their own.

The Art of Human Nature by IneffableDoll (T)

Crowley is a painter who has only ever had an eye for nature. That is, until a client named Aziraphale commissions her for a painting to boost her self-confidence, and Crowley discovers that her client is as beautiful as the Earth itself. Then she goes and catches feelings, because she’s a disaster.

The Diary of Ms A.Z. Fell, From The Age of Eight to the Present Day by punkbean (G)

"My name is Aziraphale Fell and I am a girl and I am eight years old. I am writing this for a school project to practice writing. I think this is stupid as I can write quite well, but I like Ms Smith so I am doing it anyway." Aziraphale's school diary quickly becomes a place for her to chronicle the friendship between her and her new best friend, Anthony Crowley.

A Common or Garden Romance? by die_traumerei (M)

A nature walk queer mixer? It's not Aziraphale's usual thing, but that's described the last few years, so off she goes, and even makes a friend. Crowley's not like anyone she's ever known before, and that's a good thing. Friendship turns to love, and eventually they even realize that, and so a life together beings to grow, in a love story that's very straightforward, and also anything but.

I recommend checking out die_traumerei's ao3 as they have a bunch of ineffable wives in which one of them is trans!

- Mod D

[tossawary]

Happy November, everyone! Here's a late collection of the icons that I've been using for the last few months. The lines and dots one is the new one! I saw some Art Deco wood carving recently that was cool and wanted to borrow the style.

The rubber duck cassowary is from July, because a loved one is really into ducks recently. The black and white cassowary is from August, for no particular reason. The Starfleet cassowary is from September, because we started doing a catch-up on things like "Strange New Worlds", "Lower Decks", and "Discovery". The cassowary made of dots is from October, just because I saw another piece of art that I liked.

Fandom news: I finally finished "Some Unknown Corner", my Qijiu reunion fix-it fic!!! Which took me WAY longer than initially expected. Part of it is that I've been spending more time with family lately (saw some people I hadn't seen in years last month), which means less time to write but has been very nice, and part it of seems to be that I'm just a little busy and burnt out at the moment.

I'm not currently planning on joining any fandom events at the moment, or making any firm fic plans; I'm letting loose and just relaxing. I will be TRYING not to be possessed by some unwieldy project. Trying!!! I'm definitely not (intentionally) writing any novels this month. For now (at least the next couple months), I don't think I'll be posting any new fic unless it's a short one-shot or already complete longfic. November and December tend to be some of the busier months in my personal life. I have some WIP projects for other fandoms that I'd like to shove out the door and use to cleanse my palate a little, but again, the main goal right now is taking it slow.

If you have a fandom project right now that is stressing you out, I offer you permission from a random stranger to take a break from it, if you want one! Enjoy a nap on the couch and some good food and a walk, if you can and if you like! Fic will wait.

Thank you for all the lovely comments and messages and such! I appreciate them very much and will be trying to casually catch up on those again. ❤️❤️❤️

[tinfoil-jones]

Gravity Falls: For Your Own Good, Ch. 3

Summary: A few years after moving to Gravity Falls and having his lab built, Stanford Pines happens upon his estranged twin brother, Stanley. He mentally prepared himself to be suffocated by his brothers neediness all over again - what he wasn't prepared for was Stanley walking right past him like he didn't even notice him.

Rating: M for language, violence, and adult implications

Preface: Dialogue only, but some actions will be annotated for clarity. Cross-Posted on AO3 Here

First - Prev - Next

CH.3

RING 

RING

CLICK

“Hello, Fiddleford Hadron McGucket speaking-”

“Fiddleford you did your minor in Neuropsychology, didn't you? As in, the psychology branch that specializes in memory?”

"....Why hello to you too, Stanford Pines. How are you? Fine? I’m also doing fine. I’m pleased as punch that you finally learned some social etiquette in the two years since we've spoken to each other.”

“My apologies, Fiddleford. There’s an urgent matter at hand, and it’s out of my depth.”

“Well butter me up and call me a biscuit; you, admitting something is out of your depth? You’ve got my attention. Yes, I minor’d in Neuropsych, whatever would you need that for?”

“I need your help with a memory crisis in Gravity Falls... I can't explain it over the phone, I need to show this to you.”

“You're killing me Stanford... But I'll be down in a day or two.”

“I’m going to warn you in advance; this is going to be an... odd case I'm going to show you.”

“I may not be in the field of cryptozoology, but I’ve seen some things, Stanford. Whatever it is I'm sure I'll understand.

---

"There's nothing about this that I understand nor condone."

"Hey PhD, who's the white coat? Didn't think you could be friends with such a babe."

*Ford presses the mute button on the cell*

“Mighty forward, that one. Is this another shifter?”

"He isn't a shapeshifter or a clone; this is my twin brother, Stanley."

“You never mentioned-.”

“We had a falling out, but that's not important right now. What is important is that he doesn't remember his past- he doesn't remember me, our family, none of it. It's like his slate has been wiped clean, and all he knows is how to be a grifting malefactor.”

"So you... convinced him to go into a containment cell in your lab?"

“Convince is… certainly a word.”

“What did you do?”

"He needed treatment and evaluation, but he was being difficult; I did what I had to do."

"Stanford, brother or not you are holding this man here against his will. This is illegal and unethical. What if he reports you to the authorities for kidnapping?"

"My brother would sooner chew up and swallow a gold chain before he went to the authorities for anything. Once I find a way to jog his memory, he won't have a reason to report me."

“And you want me to be an accessory to your crimes?”

“Think of it as a project. You can study the psyche of someone with amnesia in real time.”

“Stanford. I majored in engineering.”

“Don’t you want your Neuropsychology minor to become another major? It’s about time you got your double-doctorate.”

“...I will help you.”

“Than-.”

“On the condition that you treat your… brother, as humanely as possible given the circumstances” 

“Fiddleford, what do you take me for? Some kind of monster?”

“You are holding someone captive in your basement.”

To be continued...

[libraryspectre]

Allow me to ramble on the internet about my grandma again

I got much of my diy spirit from my maternal grandmother, who spent most of her time (that wasn't cooking, fishing, gardening, community service, or hunting) doing Art. This could be painting murals on any available surface, hot glueing old jewelry and seashells on things, making elaborate holiday decorations by painting plywood cutouts (cut by my grandfather), glueing ribbons and patches and rhinestones on denim jackets, and, once, making her entire front walkway into a genuinely gorgeous mosaic of broken tile.

The thing is, she didn't have many developed skills. She wasn't a particularly talented painter. But what she lacked in skill she made up for in sheer audacity and an eye for aesthetics, and most of the things she made ended up looking cool and fun/pretty, even if it wasn't my taste (she was VERY maximalist when it came to clothing especially, but I loved most of her painting and a lot of the decor.) She didn't have a lot of money and her materials were cheap - acrylic paint, plywood, garage sale trinkets and goodwill clothing. Tons and tons of hot glue. The corner of the garage where she worked was a wonderland to me, even though it was mostly things like costume jewelry and aquarium beads in old cottage cheese containers.

She was always enlisting me for help - I'd get excited when she told me to wear old clothes, because that meant we were painting. Her attitude was really good for me as a creative kid who struggled with perfectionism. She'd always tell me that if you mess up, you can just paint back over it! "Paint is cheap" was one of her favorite sayings. But the biggest lesson I took away from crafting with her was to customize, to stamp your identity on your surroundings, to take it into your hands to change anything in your environment you weren't happy with. Approach any art project with enough gumption and it will probably be AT LEAST fine - and you can almost always improve upon it in the future. In the meantime, at least it will be yours. And NEVER let yourself be bored when you could be creating.

I've gone down a lot of crafting avenues she never touched - she wasn't one for fiber arts, and I keep falling deeper into that rabbithole. But I've held on to that spirit of customization. I think of her often as I learn new ways to alter my clothes, stumbling blindly into embroidery and rudimentary sewing, bleach dying and fabric paint. I hate the landlord white of my apartment walls and dream of the day I can just paint on them anytime I want. I need to do at least a few seabirds in her honor.

[sauronsgirl]

Strong Attraction

Gil Galad x Elf F!Reader

Warning: smut 18+

Eregion is so beautiful. A true elven kingdom. You are happy and lucky to live there. Although you really miss your best friend who still lives in Lindon, her parents didn't want her to travel alone with you. They thought it was too dangerous.

So you now live in a nice house near the forge of Eregion, the place where you are working now. It's an ordinary day like always when the bells at the gates of the city rings. Someone important is coming. Curious, you take a break and go outside on the ramparts to see who it is. Your eyes widen as you see it's the High King Gil Galad with his guards. You are surprised, because he usually never leaves Lindon. For the few times you've seen him, he is a good king. Always put his people first. And he is really handsome.

Knowing Celebrimbor will go meet him, you follow suit, being the smith's assistant. You climb down the ramparts and follow him. You are a bit nervous, you won't speak but he is still the King. Once you've reach the entrance, both elves starts to talk together. He is more beautiful closer.

-Y/N come here will you. says Celebrimbor smiling.

You approach blushing under Gil Galad's gaze.

-High King this is my assistant Y/N. She is helping me with a very important project I'm working on that will save us all from the upcoming darkness.

-My King, it's an honour to meet you. you say bowing your head in respect.

-My lady. It seems our smith has a great opinion of you and trust you very much. It's a pleasure to make your acquaintance. says the High King with a smile.

-Please follow us into the forge my King so we can show you the work we've made so far. says Celebrimbor.

For the next hour, you and the smith show the High King the rings for the elves that you have made and how they work.

Later, Celebrimbor host a diner for the High King. It's simple but appropriate for a king. You often catch Gil Galas looking your way while he is listening to his friend. You blush like a young teenage elf. He is very attractive and makes you think about inappropriate things about him.

Like right now, you imagine him laying you down on the table and dive between your thighs. He would eat you out slowly at first then speed up as he tastes more of you. The High King would look at you in the eye as he would make you come. Then once you are ready, he would fuck you on the table.

Blushing hard and feeling turn on at the idea, you excuse yourself pretending to be sick so you can go back to your room and take care of it. Before you do something stupid in front of the High King. You feel his eyes on your back as you leave.

Once you are back into your room, you lock the door and undress before laying on top of your bed. You slide a hand between your legs, feeling how wet you are only by thinking about dirty things done by Gil Galad. Already rilled up, it doesn't take you long to orgasm. You moan his name loudly, knowing you are alone in this wing of the building.

You feel tired but not entirely satisfied. It's always like this when you do this by yourself. The real thing is surely better. Feeling your juices dripping down your thighs, you get up to take a bath in the natural pond next to your room.

Once you've reached the water, you sigh in pleasure. The water is cold but feels good against your burning skin and it cleans all of the remaining of your release. Lost in thought, you don't hear the person coming. It's when they clear their throat that you open your eyes. And wish you could disappear. The High King is standing outside the water source, looking at you with wide eyes but with desire in them.

This is so embarrassing. Being caught bathing by the man you were fantasing about minutes ago. You go deeper in the water to hide more of your naked body. You are blushing so hard. The movement seems to wake him up because he quickly turns around.

-I'm so sorry Y/N, I didn't know someone was already here. apologize the High King.

-It's okay. I'm also surprised. I thought I was the only one who knew about this spot.

-I used to come here a long time ago when I needed peace from royal duties. It's a good spot. I will leave you and come back later.

As the High King starts to leave, you stop him without thinking.

-You don't have to leave. The pond is big enough for two. you say blushing.

He turns around surprised.

-Really? I don't want to impose myself.

-I'm sure yeah, come on in.

Turns out it was a good idea because twenty minutes later, you are on his lap, making out with him passionately. His hands are everywhere on your body as you grab his hair while kissing him.

Gil Galad is an amazing kisser and is most likely a great lover too. You really want to find out. You start moving your hips against him and feel his cock hardening more than it already was. The High King pulls his mouth away moaning and needing to breathe.

-Careful now. If we continue like this I will make love to you right here.

-And if it's what I want? you reply smirking.

-Then It will be my pleasure to do it, but in your bed. I want to see all of you. says the High King lusftully.

-Okay, my room is just on the other side...

You don't have the time to finish your sentence that he is picking you up bridal style and gets out of the water to go to your room. You laugh and feel more excited at the prospect of what he is going to do to you. It's going to be a great night.

[letterstodixon]

oldies station (pt. II)

modern au!

summary: Daryl has been avoiding his past as much as possible, but inevitably he runs into it again.

pairing: daryl dixon x f!reader

word count: 2373

warnings: a few cuss words. paragraphs in italics indicate flashbacks. not proofreading.

divider by @/saradika-graphics

a/n: as i said, i'm making this a mini series (for now), so the cliffhanger is completely intentional. thank you so much for the support on the first part, hope you enjoy this one as well! <3

taglist: @vaniniweenie

The typical sound of forks clanking against plates and voices could be heard in the room. Daryl looked around, his elbows resting on the table, while his fingers were intertwined, acting as a support for his chin. Somehow, some way, he felt comfortable and familiar with this situation. The Grimes family had come into his life by chance, and although it took him a while to get over the suspicion that they were not what they seemed, he confirmed that yes, they were that incredible. Then, he was introduced to their friends, and Daryl had been adopted as part of that group. Those weekend meetings were part of a routine, but that day, there were only the Grimes, Glenn and Maggie, and Carol with her daughter, Sophia. Some were missing at the table, but there would be a chance to repeat the moment next week.

"Earth to Daryl." A voice, which he recognized as Carol's, made him come out of his thoughts. Blinking a couple of times, he turned to look at her, sitting next to him, while everyone seemed to be watching him.

"What?" he asked, frowning slightly, as he shifted in his seat. He felt uncomfortable having all eyes on him.

"Carl asked if you could pick him up tomorrow from school." Rick repeated, chuckling slightly. Sophia let out a laugh, turning to look at the boy in question.

"Oh so you go to school? You're not as illiterate as you seem!"

"Sophia!" Carol scolded her.

"Shut the hell up!" Carl replied, leaning partially over the table, not taking his eyes off Sophia. Judith laughed, shaking her head.

"Swear jar!"

"Carl, enough." Rick said. Everyone at the table laughed, while the teenagers continued to look at each other with a certain amount of disdain. Rick sighed, turning his gaze to Daryl. "Can you do that for us? I know I'm asking a lot but..."

"S' no problem. Do I have to bring Jude too?"

"Nope, we're having a girls day tomorrow after school! Right?" Maggie intervened, who was sitting in front of the girl, extending her arm while wriggling her fingers, Judith doing the same and smiling at her aunt.

"Yeah!" Jude exclaimed excitedly. Gasping, she hit her forehead with the palm of her hand. "I forgot to finish my art project! Be right back." As the girl ran up to go to her room, everyone looked at each other, laughing.

"Didn't you have a project to finish too, huh?" Michonne asked, turning to see Carl, who rolled his eyes.

"That was like a week and a half ago. But you know, Y/N is the coolest, she wouldn't rush or pressure us into doing anything." He replied, picking up his glass to take a sip of soda, glancing at Daryl out of the corner of his eye. Hearing her name, he felt his stomach drop to the floor, the phone in his pocket weighing more than usual. How had it been almost two weeks since the message? He still hadn't responded, and he didn't know how to do so.

"Y/N is the art teacher?" Rick asked, to which his son nodded.

"Yup. Ask Daryl, he's her friend."

"Your friend? Since when?" Glenn chimed in, too intrigued to keep quiet while the rest talked. Maggie turned to look at him amused, shaking her head.

"Uh, yeah. She was a friend of mine." Daryl cleared his throat, nodding. He didn't know how to get out of this situation —again— thanks to Carl. "Long time no see."

"Carl said she is, you said was. What is it?" Michonne asked, as incisive as ever. He couldn't help but rub his palms against his pants, trying to get rid of the sudden sweat.

"Was m'fault. Kid's right, she's cool." He simply answered. Two weeks had passed without him turning his thoughts to that place he didn't want to return to: you. He regretted being a coward, but it was better for both of you not to be around anymore, and he would do everything possible to make that happen. In fact, he never deserved a friendship like yours.

Even though everyone at the table continued with their conversation and moved on from the topic, respecting that Daryl preferred not to go into detail about you, he couldn't help but feel Carl's gaze on him for the rest of the night. Was he making the wrong decision?

Stopping the bike in front of the school, this time at the correct building, he got off the bike, leaving the helmet on the seat. It wasn't common for him to wear it, but he knew he would need it for Carl. Being in that place, once again, was making him nervous. The boy knew how to act to intimidate him in some way, and while his parents preferred him to go home accompanied, Daryl knew that the teen had been behind that plan.

Before he even had time to think about what would happen if Carl didn't show up on time and where he should look for him, he started to hear voices, teenagers leaving the school with red, sweaty faces, evidence that they had had gym class. Suddenly, those voices started to get louder, making Daryl frown, sneaking closer to the entrance. It sounded like a fight.

"What's wrong with you?! They're kids! Students! Your students." A female voice said, anger visible in her voice. As he approached, the few boys who had left turned to see what was happening in the hallway.

"Oh c'mon, doll! Cut me some slack, would you? It's not that fucking d—" A man responded, being interrupted by the same voice from before, trying to cover him up.

"It is! It is that deep, you were yelling horrible things at them!"

"Because they need to grow a fucking backbone!"

When Daryl reached the school entrance, you appeared in his vision, in front of a man dressed in gymnastics —the gym coach, he assumed— who was watching you with a mocking smile, while you had to look up slightly to see his face. Carl, with desperation written on his face, was at your side, along with two other classmates. Without hesitation, he walked up the steps to enter the school, standing close to you but not interrupting.

"No, they don't! They are teens. You should stop trying to give them reasons to drop out of school," you said, lowering your voice, a sigh leaving your lips before continuing, "you should give them reasons to stay, Negan. This is supposed to be a safe place."

After speaking, almost as if you had sensed his presence, you turned to look at him with a certain confusion on your face, frowning. Daryl couldn't identify what was happening to you, but he decided to take matters into his own hands.

"Enough, we're leavin' right now. Let's go." He said quietly, motioning for Carl to start walking, one of his hands placing itself on your shoulder for you to follow. Negan laughed, looking at him in disbelief.

"You need a guard dog now, huh? I thought you were better than that." He commented, clearly trying to be hurtful. Daryl couldn't care less what some idiot he just met thought of him, they were comments he'd heard all his life, for one reason or another, but he didn't want that comment to affect you. As he was opening his mouth to respond, your voice was heard.

"You keep telling yourself that, Negan. You're so miserable being human that you constantly need to make people feel like less of a person." You said, looking at him one last time before leaving the school, Daryl following close behind you with Carl, both of you turning to see the gym coach standing in the middle of the hallway, looking like he didn't understand what had just happened. As he walked away from the building, he stopped when he saw you doing the same, turning to look at him. Only then was he able to notice your red, glassy eyes, watching him with that expression he still couldn't decipher.

"I'm so sorry, Daryl. He had no right to say that to you." You said, your voice cracking, making Daryl's heart break. Years passed, and the only thing capable of making him want to cry were your own tears. Pressing his lips together, he shook his head as he huffed, brushing off the matter.

"Ain't what matters. Guy's an asshole, I can tell." He answered, turning to look at Carl, who nodded.

"Yeah, you know Negan. He's mean but he don't really mean what he says." The teenager intervened, causing you to let out a humorless laugh.

“He means everything he says because he hypes himself up by drowning other people.” Rolling your eyes, you brought your hand up to Carl’s hair, messing it up slightly. “Would you mind to leave me and Daryl alone for a bit, sweetheart?”

Carl nodded, giving you a side hug, which you returned with a big smile, as he turned to look at his uncle once more, eyes narrowing. Daryl looked between you and him, finally focusing his gaze on you. Having you face to face, this time alone, intimidated him. He had always been intimidated, in the best possible way. If he had the chance to look at other people, he would still choose to keep looking at you, because you were the only person capable of looking at him as if he really had a place in the world. As if he really mattered.

"I assume you didn't receive my text?" You asked, tilting your head slightly as you ran your ring finger across your eye, wiping away the excess tears that hadn't finished falling. He kept that unreadable expression, though he was afraid you could read it.

"Nah, I didn't." He said, feeling guilty almost instantly. "What did it say?"

"Carl sent me your number and I wanted to keep in touch with you, if that's okay. But if you don't want to, you know where I live." You said, making him hesitate for a moment. As far as he knew, you had moved out from that house a while ago, but...

"You're at yer mom's house?"

"Exactly. Well, at least in the house by the front, I constructed a mini house in the back, made myself a little art school so kids can hang out. Sometimes I help them with homework and stuff." You told him, pride evident in your voice. "You should stop by one day, you know my mom loved you."

Daryl nodded, his bottom lip caught between his teeth, nervousness stuck in his stomach at the mere thought of running into you again, and at the mention of your mother. Back in the day, it was just the two of you, and never—really, never—had been rude or violent towards Daryl, as people usually were. However, he didn't know how to let you know those fond memories or how to respond to that invitation, so he just responded with a low "m'kay."

"I should probably get going... Hope to see you soon, Dar. Take care." You said, giving him one last smile and a light caress on his arm before heading back to the parking lot, while he nodded slightly in greeting. He cringed at the nickname, since you had always called him that just to annoy him, but thinking about it, he had missed hearing you call him that. Turning to the side, he found Carl leaning against a tree, waiting for the conversation to end.

"Now I understand why you didn't thank me. Why didn't you answer her message?!" He whispered shouted, taking Daryl by surprise and making him back off a bit at Carl's hand movements.

"None of yer business, kid. Get on the bike." He said, passing him the helmet so he could put it on, which he obeyed, but not before complaining under his breath.

On the way to the Grimes’ house, his mind couldn’t get away from what you had said to Negan, how you had stood up for the kids, and most of all, he couldn’t ignore your invitation. Dropping Carl off safely at his home, he decided to take a few more laps around the neighborhood, deciding what to do. Finally, he found himself passing by that house he could easily recognize from his younger years, and although nothing had changed, he could notice that there were more plants on the porch and it was painted a different color, more vibrant than it once was. Your favorite. As he struggled, he could see you under the tree at the entrance of the house, your overalls stained with paint, as you scolded him once again.

"Stay still! I need to get your face correctly or my project will look like a mess." You told him, one hand on his jaw as you gently turned his face, the other hand holding the pencil firmly on the paper.

He huffed, annoyed at having to stay still for so long. "Shoulda get a better model, girl." As he spoke, he noticed how you rolled your eyes in response, shaking your head. "What?"

"You, Daryl Dixon, don't see yourself as I do." You replied, a smile appearing on your face as you tapped his nose with your index finger, causing his face to instantly turn red. "The only thing you can see is the bridge of your nose, and I'm not even sure that you actually see it."

Daryl never quite understood what you meant by that, but he stayed still the rest of the time you needed, learning to enjoy the moments that would later serve as fuel to keep him going. He was still afraid —sometimes— that his tank would run dry, that he would have to live remembering what you were like, but at that very moment he decided that he didn't want to feel what losing you was like again. Getting off his motorcycle, he left it at the side of the house, taking a seat on the front steps, ready to wait for you, turning to look in confusion when he heard the front door open.

"What are you doing here?"