#and i really really dont think being smug and all 'i told you so' to libs is worth it enough for vast amounts of people. people you

[snekdood]

Hey so uh.

I dont think voting is the only solution. Nor will it necessarily get us what we want immediately. And i think protest is more important and more effective.

However.

Conservatives. Would. Not. Be. Trying. To. Make. Voting. Impossible. And. Taking away. Actual voting places from marginalized areas. .

If it meant ABSOLUTELY nothing.

Hope that helps.

✌️

[theyhavetakenovermylife]

hello hii so uh. if youre taking requests can you make an nsfw 03 raph x fem!reader thingie?? with a little bit of submissive-ish raph if you dont mind:3

Good Boy (18+)

2003!Raphael x reader

A/N: Sure I can!❤️Even though it became a little more than a thingie, and I might have made him a bit more than just submissive-ish, as I got carried away, but I’m sure it’ll still work😂 Hope you enjoy!❤️

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You have long been wanting to switch the roles in the bedroom, and finally Raphael allows you to do so❤️

All characters are aged up.

Warnings: Spelling, dom reader and sub Raph, oral - male receiving, a little bit handjob, dirty talk, using of the term “good boy” quite a lot, turtley anatomy, a little bit of stripping, teasing, unprotected sex, cowgirl, light choking, getting rougher towards the end, a lot of begging oboy, desperation?

---------

Your boyfriend had never really been the submissive type. It was just not natural for Raphael. He did not like when anybody told him what to do. Heck, he even clashed with his older brother, getting mad whenever Leonardo told him to do something. It was not that Raph did not want to do it, it was more the fact that someone had told him to. That just didn’t work for him.

And just like Raph didn’t like to take orders by his brothers, he did not like it in the bedroom. To put it simple; your boyfriend was very dominant during sex. Not that you complained, no, not at all. You loved your boyfriend, and you most definitely liked his rough side during sex. But as much as you liked being dominated by Raphael, you could not deny your curiosity for trying something else.

First time you brought up the topic of the two of you switching roles, Raph looked very displeased. With his arms crossed and an almost scolding frown on his face. It was a clear no.

The second time you brought up, Raph shut you the sharpest glare ever. Not happening.

The third time he just shot the conversation down before it could even start, knowing fully well what you wanted to ask him.

But the fourth time, he actually thought about it for a moment. He still told you no, but he actually thought about it. And he continued to think about it the day afterwards. And the day after that. And the day after that…

It took a week before Raph came to you, acting more tough than he ever had before, acting unbothered as he stretched his arms out above his head.

“I’ve been thinking, babe”, he started out, acting as if he didn’t see the smug smile spreading across your face. You already knew what he was going to say. “If ya really want ta try bein’ the dominant one in bed, I don’t see why I shouldn’ let ya do it one time”.

And that was the events that led to you and Raph making out on a mattress in his room late at night, once you were sure his family had gone to bed. You were straddling his hips, your pants long gone by now, leaving you in only your underwear and the shirt you had intended to sleep in, as you and Raph’s lips and tongues moved together, exploring the areas the two of you knew so well by now. Small hums escaped your connected lips, along with the wet sounds that came from your hungry kisses.

Raph did what he usually would do when the two of you were in a position like this; he would let his hands wander up your thighs, until they rested on your ass cheeks. From here he would usually rais one of his hands, before letting it fall back against your skin with a loud smack, causing you to jolt and moan against him, as he would start to roughly squish both your cheeks. But this time was different.

Raph let out a surprised sound against your lips, when he found his hands pinned by his head. It was as if he had forgotten your conversation earlier that day.

“Hey, that’s not fair, babe!”, he exclaimed, wiggling his wrists in your grip. “I was enjoyin’ myself there!”

“But you promised me, Raph”, you tsked, shaking your head at your boyfriend.

“Yeah, but that was before ya started kissin’ me!”, he growled. “Ya know I can’t help myself when sittin’ on top of me, looking so tasty”.

“No, I understand, Raphie”, you said with a fake sigh. “I should have known you couldn’t take it”.

Raph paused for a moment. “What did you say?”

“It makes sense why you don’t want me to dominate you, Raphie”, you sighed, letting go of his wrists so you could sit back onto his lap. “if you can’t take it, that changes everything”.

“Hey! I can take it”, Raph rumbled. You had to fight in order not to smile.

“Are you sure about that?”, you asked, acting unsure.

“I’m more than sure”, Raph boasted, puffing his chest up slightly. “Ya know me, babe. I can take anything”.

“Well, in that case”, you said, your eyes sparkling with michevie as you leaned over him, your thumb finding his lower lip, dragging it down. “Be a good boy and do as I say”.

Raph’s widened. He stared at you as the air disappeared from his lungs. He did not fight the finger on his lip, nor the fact that you had called him a good boy, the same way used to call you a good girl, instead he just stared at you, his lip trembling ever so slightly under your finger. You hummed in slight amusement. This was going to be fun.

You removed your finger from his lip and took his wrists once more, moving them further up. “These stay up here”, you smiled with a sultry voice.

“What happens if they don’t?”, Raph said, masking his small anticipation with a smirk. But the rise and fall of his chest and his heavy breathing gave him away.

“Oh that won’t happen”, you smirked, slowly letting your fingers trail from his wrists and down his arms. “Because good boys do as they have been told”.

Raph’s breath hitched at this comment. His fist clenched around themselves, his mouth dry as he tried to swallow. With a half smile you leaned back down toward his face, chuckling as he tried to capture your lips with. Instead you grabbed a hold of his chin, turning it to the side, giving you room to leave small tender kisses down his neck. Raph sighed, and his fingers moved over his head, as he tried to keep himself still, trying hard not to focus on the way your lips felt against his skin, or the scent of your arousal that filled the room.

You chuckled at his reaction, before lightly biting down onto his soft stop. Raph gasped at this, suppressing a moan. His hands lifted from the bed, ready to get a hold of you, but he quickly became aware, slamming them back down where you hand told him to keep them.

“See what a good boy you are”, you hummed. “Doing exactly as I’ve told you to. You’re doing so well, Raphie”.

“Goddamn, (Y/N)”, he sighed, fighting hard not to let out a needy moan. He had fallen harder into your grip than he had thought he would, already feeling the familiar feeling around his cloaca, letting him know he would be dropping soon. Raph had never been that quick to drop before, clenching every muscle hoping to halt it.

“What is it, Raphie?”, you asked in his ear, the feeling for you breathing against his skin making him shut his eyes, hoping to regain some kind of control. But your next words almost made him lose the little he had left. “Are you goin to drop for me, is that it, Raphael?”

With all of his focus on making his arms stay down, Raph felt as if he had no control over his mouth. The words that left his lips were not ones he intended, yet they sprung furth anyway, uncovering how he actually felt about this whole situation. “Yes”.

“Then do it, big boy”, you commanded, nibbling on his skin once more, as you slowly started grinding your hips against his. Strained moans left Raph’s parted lips, his eyes still shut and his brow bones frowning in pleasure. It didn’t take long before you felt his hardness emerge from his cloaca, poking against your naked thigh. You smiled, leaning back a little so you could look down on your heavy breathing boyfriend, watching his eyes shut open when you lifted your hips from his.

“Continue that good behavior, and don’t move”, you hummed, before you started to kiss around his collarbone at the top of his plastron. Raph sucked in a breath of air, his chest rising as you started to move down, your lips kissing along the line in the middle of his plastron, the vein in his neck standing out as he tried to do every single mantra in his mind that he could think of.

Your fingers started tracing down his sides as you went down, making him raise his head so he could look down, watching you with his mouth agape. The moan that left his mouth was louder than he intended, making him groan in frustration. Raph had always known you were hot. His dream dream girl, who he was so lucky to have as his girlfriend, but this was ridiculous. The way your eyes looked at him made him scream inside his head, thinking of all the time he easily pushed you over if you started teasing him, taking you hard and rough on the spot. But why didn’t he do it now? Well, to put it quite simply, he liked it. He liked the way you had taken charge of him and given him that little nickname, even though he wouldn’t admit it to himself just yet.

Raph watched in anticipation as your lips got to his hip, your eyes looking back at him with a small smile, as you started to kiss around his hard shaft, the vein in his neck pumping away. He groaned lightly as one of your hands slowly grabbed onto him, holding him still, as you slowly started licking your way up to the head. Raph almost broke when you licked over the slit of his head, picking up any pre-cum with the tip of your tongue, before slowly taking him into your mouth. Raph let his head fall back, savoring the feeling of your tongue against him, as you hollowed out your cheeks before moving your head up and down.

As you started to increase the speed, Raph found it harder and harder to keep quiet, his moans becoming more and more audible, almost forgetting that the entrance to his room was nothing but a large arch with no door.

“Fuck”, Raph moaned, his legs shaking as he fought against the urge to buckle up against you and your pretty mouth. “Please don’t stop, (Y/N). Fuck”.

You chuckled, the vibrations making Raph’s hands clench onto the pillow his head rested upon, holding back an even louder moan.

You took him out of your mouth, using your hand to pump him as you spoke. “You like that, Raphie?”

“Yes”, he choked out, closing his eyes once more, focusing on how your hand felt around him, using your spit to glide over him, praying for the moment your mouth would be around him once more. “I like it. I really fucking like it”.

“Then you’re going to love this”, you said, before letting go of him. Raph was about to protest, ready to scream how badly he wanted you back around him, until he saw you taking your shirt off, throwing it somewhere in the room, leaving you almost completely naked, with the exception of your underwear. It did not matter how many times Raph saw you naked, he was left awestruck every time.

You slowly stood up before slowly shimmying your underwear down your legs, using your foot to flick them off to the side of the room. Raph could feel his mouth watering at the sight, holding on tighter to the pillow, just as you stood over him, one leg on either side of him, before you slowly sat down, hovering over Raph’s aching manhood. One of your hands went down between your legs, letting a finger run through your wet folds, just to tease him, before letting the same finger run down his shaft, making a line using your own slick. Raph once again had to fight the urge to not just grab you by the waist, so he could pull you down upon him, groaning through clenched teeth.

“What’s the matter?”, you asked sweetly as you took a hold of him once more, slowly letting his head slide back and forth between your lower lips, making him shiver as he felt your slick drip down his length. “Is there something on your mind, Raph?”

“Fuck, (Y/N), don’t tease”, he groaned, trying to force the pillow further against the mattras, just to keep him hands busy.

“Then what do you want?”, you asked, turning your head to the side, removing his head from your warm core, causing Raph to moan in frustration. “Use your words, pretty boy”.

“Just ride me, (Y/N)”, he growled, his thighs locking up his he wouldn’t just thrust up against you.

You tsked, shaking your head. “That doesn’t sound like something a good boy would say. Try again, Raph”, you said, your thumb slowly doing circles around the slit of his head.

Raph moaned, his breathing heavier than before, his toes curling at your actions and his patience running thin. But he knew just what you wanted. It was the same thing that he always wanted from you. You wanted him to beg for it. You wanted to hear him beg and whimper with desperation, needy for you to do something. And it was just your luck that Raph was beginning to become that desperate, his head spinning at the mere thought of your walls around him.

“Please ride me, (Y/N)”, he whimpered, his eyes closing for a short moment, almost losing the ability to speak as you speed up your movements around his slit. “Fuck! Please just ride me, babe. I want ya ta ride me, please!”

Your thumb stopped its torture before you lined him up against your entrance. “See”, you said. “It’s not that hard being a good boy, is it?”

You slowly sank down onto him, humming at the feeling of him stretching you out as you went down. The moan that escaped Raph was louder than any of you had anticipated, making you smile smugly as you slid all the way down, until your hips met his. Raph looked down to where your hips connected, groaning as he felt you clench your muscles around him, just as you rose up once more, only to sit back down on him once more. You leaned forward, placing your hands on his chest for support, as you painfully slowly continued your movement.

“Faster, (Y/N), please”, he moaned, every muscle in his body locking up, holding him back from jumping on you.

“As you wish”, you hummed before you gradually started speeding up the movement of your hips, bouncing faster and harder against him, the sound of your skin slapping together, slowly getting louder and louder.

Raph’s hands fumbled around the pillow. He almost couldn’t contain himself anymore. He just had to touch you. His hands almost burned with the need for your skin.

“Can I touch ya?”, he asked in his breathy voice. “Please, (Y/N), I need to”.

“Only because you asked so nicely”, you answered, your voice strained by the movement of your lower body.

As if they were burned by the pillow, Raph’s hands flew to your body, feeling anywhere he could get them. From your bouncing breast down your side and onto your thighs, his hands moved with urgency, in a way they had never done before. You in turn did something that only had been the one to do all throughout your sexual adventures. One of your hands went to his neck, putting slight pressure around his throat. Raph was shocked, yet he moaned, his head falling back as your hand slowly closed around his airway, providing him just enough to breath.

The sight before you made you feel like a feral animal. You would not stop yourself from leaning forwards until your lips found Raph’s neck once more, leaving a trail of kisses and bites everywhere they went, causing Raph’s hands to latch onto your thighs, his nails digging in.

This was nothing like Raph had ever imagined it would be like. His hands holding on to your thighs for dear life as you rode him, one of your hands around his neck in a light chokehold, his head spinning with every little kiss and bite you left around his shoulder and neck.

“Are you a good boy, Raphie?”, you asked, your airy voice in his ear, creating stars in his eyes, his vision blurred by pure pleasure. How could you make him feel so good so easily?

“Yes!”, Raph choked out in a whimper you only had been able to dream about. “I’m a good boy!” His hands fumbled from your thighs to your ass. “Please, let me do it, (Y/N)! Let me fuck ya!”

You laughed, bringing your other hand up to cup his cheek, leaning his head forward so you could look him in the eyes.

“How considerate. Go ahead, Raphie, show me exactly what a good boy you are”.

That was all Raph needed, before the last bits of restraints disappeared. With full force he grabbed onto you, bending his knees before he started to thrust wildly up into you. He moaned out loud as the nails of your other hands started clawing into his arm. The world started spinning before his eyes, and then he felt your walls close in around him, bringing him closer to his own building peak.

“I’m gonna cum”, he whispered in a strained voice, his hips never stopping.

“Me too”, you moaned, your hand around his neck forcing him to look at you. “Cum for me, Raphie. Fill me up”.

That was the last bit Raph needed before his hip started buckling against you, his orgasm rushing over him. You followed right after, your muscles contracting around him as he started to fill you up.

As the two of you finally started to calm down from your high, you removed your hand from around his neck before you laid down against his chest, too tired to move off of him. Raph in turn wrapped his arms around, holding you close as the blurriness of his vision slowly disappeared.

“So”, you asked, cuddling your face against your boyfriend’s neck, one of your fingers slowly doing shapes on his plastron. “What did you think of it?”

“It was different”, Raph breathed out with a smile. “But not bad”.

“Does that mean you let me do it again?”, you asked, a bright yet teasing smile on your lips.

“Wow, wow”, Raph laughed. “I did not say that!”

“No, but it was implied”, you teased.

Raph hummed, his eyes narrowing down at you. “Maybe”.

You chuckled before getting up so you could place a tender kiss onto his lips. “Good boy”.

[rosesradio]

hii can you do a leo x nyx!reader? if u dont feel like adding the nyx part that’s completely fine :) ty and take ur time!

hi !! here’s a bullet point fic for you 🫵💌

word count: 1,045

You thought there was no such thing as an abnormal demigod. All demigods were vastly different from mortals, so why would they hold each other to some unattainable standard of normality?

You were wrong. Ever since your first day at Camp, you were ostracized by the others. They avoided you, pretending you didn’t exist on a good day.

Being ignored was…manageable. Being whispered about, with lingering gazes, was less so.

You knew why they treat you this way. You are a child of Nyx. You were born of the goddess’s desire to embrace the stars, and so, starlight danced in your eyes. The mortals were less than intrigued by your appearance, always assuming you to be smug or mischievous.

You didn’t have a mortal parent. A tether to humanity. Based on what your mother told you before you had ran away to the Doors of Death, you had a mortal lifespan. Still, you are much more akin to a faerie child than a human or demigod.

The Hecate campers are a bit warmer towards you, all things considered. They share their magic with you, and you are able to perform small spells here and there.

Nico is also a good friend. It is a little odd to see him treated so warmly by others despite the similarities between the two of you. He never asks others to show more kindness to you, as you never break down and ask for his help.

You reflect on this, at first, when Leo sits across from you at breakfast one morning. He’s much more of an extrovert in your eyes, always outspoken and joking. His curls are messy, his eyes sparking with interest. In short: he’s cute, but his presence screams trouble.

You ask if someone sent him over, for kindness or cruelty or both.

Leo shakes his head. “I just wanted to see what your deal was, y/n.” He says, cocking his head to the side as he meets your eyes. Where his head is momentarily still, his hands are moving, nimble fingers fiddling with a piece of Celestial Bronze.

“This is my deal,” you shrug, nodding noncommittally towards your breakfast plate and open spell book. The current page displayed ‘Demons: How to Befriend Them After an Exorcism’.

“I don’t see why people avoid you, then,” Leo says. He makes a final touch on his momentary project and hands it to you. It’s a small, spiked sphere that appears to be glowing. It looks like a star—and you would know.

“You have, like, a million of those in your eyes.” Leo points out before his voice falters, and he looks down at the table with a flushed face. “I mean—sorry, that sounded weird, but—“

“It’s okay,” you shake your head, starting to smile. “I know it’s just a fact…most people don’t like to look at me because of it…”

Leo’s eyes lock with yours at that, an incredulous look on his face before his features soften. “I don’t think I’ve ever seen you smile the entire time you’ve been here.”

You shrug. “I guess I’m just not used to people being that nice to me.” You hate the words as soon as you say them; they’re true, though there’s no need to guilt Leo about it.

Leo glances back down at the little sphere before meeting your eyes again. “Well, I’m here to change that. I think that’ll be some good decor for your cabin.”

You frown. “They haven’t, uh…they haven’t quite finished my cabin, yet.”

“What?” Leo asks in disbelief.

You nod. “I don’t mind. It’s in the queue, but seeing as I’m the only child of Nyx for now, it’s a low-priority thing. Really, I’m fine staying in the Hermes cabin. I think this little light will look good on my bedside table, anyway…that is, if the others don’t mind…”

Leo let out a hum, holding his face in his hand, his elbow on the table. He appeared to be…pouting. It gave you an abnormal sense of warmth and amusement to see it.

“The Hermes cabin is always overcrowded, even with the new cabins,” Leo said. “If you…if you promise to be chill about it, you could stay in the Bunker. It’s full of stuff, but it should be no problem getting your cot in there. Then, you won’t have to follow the Hermes cabin’s rules.”

You ponder the notion. “I’m sure you have rules, though.”

Leo shakes his head. “Um, I don’t think so. It’s an absolute fun zone! The only things I could think of would be…don’t touch the dangerous equipment, no dark magic past ten, and, uh…you have to hang out at least once a week. If you start rotting in the corner, I’ll have to kick you out like they did with the old Oracle in the attic.”

It was such an odd proposition. It wasn’t as if this boy you barely knew was inviting you to live with him—it was just him giving you a (presumably) quiet place to sleep. He was being nice…and he wasn’t being sent by anyone. Presumably.

“If this is some sort of prank,” you start uncertainly. “I will perform dark magic on you.”

“No pranks,” Leo promises. “At least, not yet. I’m not liable if I do a little hand-in-a-bowl-of-warm-water, but you don’t have to worry about that until you least expect it. Maybe…you could do a trial run. Come by and take a look around, watch a movie. I made a new projector, and—“

“You made a new projector?” You ask incredulously.

Leo nods, curls bouncing, his eyes alive with interest. “I’m still working on the popcorn machine, unfortunately…it keeps combusting, and the popcorn gets absolutely obliterated…”

For some reason, his utter melancholy over combusted popcorn makes you laugh. The sound surprises you so much, you cover your mouth with your hand.

Leo looks at you in disbelief, a smile tugging at the corners of his lips. “That settles it, then. We’re watching a comedy—I gotta hear you laugh again.”

You shake your head, cheeks flushed, positive the other campers are staring at the pair of you. For some reason, though, you can’t bring yourself to care. You are just beyond relieved to find yourself with a new friend…especially one as cute as Leo.

[brownsugarwrites]

Superstar

★ pairings: Johnny cage x black!fem!actress!reader

★ warnings: fluff & smut. bossy head strong reader, smug bastard johnny, enemies to lovers, oral (f!receiving). they have sex idk what else to say. sub!reader. creampie. one night stand elements. dirty talk & pet names. maybe a bit of brat taming? squirting. written with a black reader in mind but anyone can read!

★ wc: 2.6k (wow!)

★ dedicated to @lxnarphase

“Is there any way for this car to go faster?” you asked impatiently. 

“No, ma’am, I'm sorry traffic is horrible,” your driver told you sympathetically. 

Rolling your eyes, you continued typing the email to your casting agent, letting them know you would be late. Not that you really cared or anything, but it was still considerate to let them know you wouldn't be on time. 

This was your life. Going to casting meetings and getting scripts. You just wrapped up one of your movies about two months ago, and now you were onto the next one. 

Finally, pulling into the movie studio's lot, the driver drove to the main building where all the meetings occurred. As you pulled up, you grabbed your purse, stepped out of the vehicle, and walked to your destination.

Asking for directions, you go to the elevators and wait for it. Growing anxious, the elevator pinged and opened its wide doors.

Stepping onto it, you pressed the button before taking out your phone to see the exact room for the meeting.

Stepping off the elevator, your heels echoed throughout the hall as you approached the room.

Opening the glass door, the director greeted you first. 

“I'm so glad you were able to make it! Please have a seat.” 

“This is who we were waiting on?” you heard a smug familiar voice say 

Snapping your head in that direction, you rolled your eyes before scoffing loudly.

“Is there a problem-”

“Yes, there is a problem. Dont tell me this is my co-star?” you asked with annoyance. 

Johnny Cage. Seasoned actor who has a long rapport with Oscars, Golden Globes, and even some Emmys. He was arrogant and big-headed. You didn't like him from a movie you did a while ago, even though it was a small cameo. 

“Dont be like that, sweetheart. I sure we can put the past behind us and focus on the movie?” he said with a smirk playing on his face.

Rolling your eyes for the third time today, you walk to the table and sit next to one of the writers. 

After the meeting, you stood off to the side, waiting to talk to your agent to ask why she put you in this situation, knowing the beef you had with your co-star. 

“Looking good, as always, superstar,” Johnny complimented, walking up to you. 

Even with your stilettos on, he still hovered over you so slightly that you had to stare up at him. 

“Just stay out of my way, Cage,” you scoffed, crossing your arms. 

“I don't think that’s possible with us being leads in the same movie.”

“I'm not going to repeat myself,” you retorted.

“Dont have to, superstar. I'm excited to work with you again, sweetheart,” he said before putting his sunglasses back on his face and walking away.

Watching him leave the boardroom room, your casting agent walked over to you. 

“So.. are you guys made up?” she asked with a grin.

“Dont make me fire you.” you snapped, not thinking her joke was amusing. 

Watching her face drop in fear, you strode towards the door and left the building. 

When it was finally time for filming, you were greeted with a vase of hydrangeas in your makeup trailer. Opening the note with the initials J.C on it, you tore the paper and threw it into the garbage can.

“Did ya get my flowers, superstar?” Johnny asked as you walked onto the set.

“I did. Thanks, I guess,” you responded flatly.

Smiling, his voice boomed throughout the studio, letting the crew know he was ready to shoot.

This became the routine. Sometimes, you and Johnny would have good and bad days. But the good started to outweigh the bad, and you tolerated him a bit more throughout this journey. 

He felt the same about you. He wouldn't tell anyone about his crush on his co-star. He felt like a little kid teasing you and annoying you just so that you would give him your undivided attention. As juvenile as it sounded, it worked. Seeing you get so annoyed with him really gave him the satisfaction of driving you crazy. It was all a part of his plan to make you his girlfriend finally.

Hearing a knock on your trailer door, you invite the person in

“I would say someone is warming up to me.” You heard the familiar voice as he walked in. 

Scoffing playfully, you asked what he wanted.

“Just bored and wanted to see my pretty co-star. Do you have a problem with that?” he asked, sitting next to you on the couch. 

Seeing that he was shirtless with the robe barely covering his chest, giving you a peek of his abs, you felt a sweat drip down your forehead.

Shaking your head no, you released a shaky breath, feeling him inch closer to you. 

“Cat got your tongue, sweetheart?” he asked, arrogance in his tone.

“Oh shut up.” you simply said before looking away, feeling your cheeks warm up in embarrassment, 

“Wow, am I making my superstar nervous right now? That’s new,” he teased, face coming closer to yours.

“My superstar” had you weak in the knees. You were sure you would fall onto the ground if you stood up. 

He was toying with you, and you needed to fight back the best way you could.

“No, I'm not nervous, Johnny. Why are you so fucking close?” you asked, trying to keep your guard up and turning to meet his eyes. 

“Cause maybe I think you're gorgeous, and I wanna get a better look at you,” he replied smugly. 

Rolling your eyes, the two of you sat silently, feeling the thick tension clouding over you. His face came closer to you as you felt your breath synch with his. Your eyes fluttered close, accepting whatever was about to happen.

“We need you on set in five minutes,” you heard one of the production assistants yell through the door.

Eyes shooting open, you jump away before apologizing and look out, feeling your face burn up. 

“Dont apologize. Come on, they need us on set,” he said with a wink, taking your hand in his 

Snatching your hand away, you got up and left your trailer. Johnny trailed behind you with a sly smile on his face.

Three and a half months later, you were finally done filming. Feeling a weight leave your shoulders, you congratulated the crew members on their achievements.

“I had fun working with you, superstar. You almost did as good as me,” he joked.

Smacking your lips, you looked at him in shock. “Almost as good as you? I'm pretty sure I did as good as you, maybe even better,” you jabbed back. 

“Well, how about we celebrate? That new lounge just opened downtown. Meet there tonight?” he asked, giving puppy dog eyes. 

“Sure, I could go for a glass of wine or two. 8:30.” 

***

8:50. You’re twenty minutes late even though you chose the time to meet him. Sitting in the section he brought for the two of you, he pulled out his phone to see if you were still coming out tonight. 

Looking up, he saw you walking in with your thigh-high boots on with the tight black dress, hugging you tight as you carried your Chanel purse over your shoulder. 

“You must have a thing for being late, sweetheart,” he teased, grabbing your hand to help you not trip over your feet.

“I'm here, aren't I?” you asked, rolling your eyes.

What would he give to make those pretty eyes roll behind your pretty head

“I had them put your wine on ice. I think it's warm now.” 

“Eh, I’ll be ok. Thank you for inviting me out.” you thanked him.

As the night went on, the two of you joked and conversed about things going on in your daily life. What new brand deals have the two of you got down to, and what have you all made for dinner this week. 

You could feel the tension between the two of you, especially with the way he placed his big hand upon your plush thigh, giving it teasing squeezes.

“Take me to the bathroom?” you asked. 

Grabbing his hand, you led the way to the bathroom. He waited for you outside as you went into the bathroom.

Coming out, you stood before him, peering up at him with your big brown eyes. Grabbing your face, you felt his soft lips placed upon yours. It may have been the drinks talking, but you wanted him.

“Tell me you want this as much as me,” he whispered in your ear before kissing along your neck, grabbing a handful of your ass.

“Yes, b-but not here. Papz might be watchin',” you whimpered. 

Taking note, he let you lead the way as you walked out of the club to get to his sports car, trying not to get caught by the sneaky paparazzi.

“Nice car,” you complimented, walking up to his matte black Maserati as he opened the door for you. 

 Giving you a tap on your ass, he thanked you before closing the door after making sure you got in ok.

The car ride seemed like it took forever, even with Johnny exceeding the speed limit, to get to his house. Feeling the needy grip on your thigh was driving you crazy. Biting your lip in anxiousness, you started to scroll on your phone so you did not think about the current climate in the car.

Finally pulling into the garage with his other cars, he quickly turned off the engine as you unbuckled your seatbelt. Before you could open the door to get out of the vehicle, Johnny beat you to it before lifting you out of the car bridal style and taking you into his mansion.

Fighting with the door that led inside his house, he grunted in annoyance. 

“Why dont you put me down-” you asked, trying to give a solution.

“Because if I put you down, I'm fucking you in this garage, and a lady like you should be fucked properly.” he simply responded, finally getting the door to open.

Stepping inside with you in hand, he closed the door with his foot before taking you up the stairs that led to the bedroom. 

Kissing you with fever, he placed you on the bed gently as you started to tug off his shirt. You felt yourself growing more aroused as he moved down to your neck, gently sucking on it. 

Mewling softly, you pulled him away from your neck so that he could take off his clothes. 

“Nun uh sweetheart. Dont be impatient,” he instructed you as he moved down towards your legs to take your shoes off.

Once your shoes were discarded, he began to litter kisses upon your leg leading up to your inner thigh before coming dangerously close to your clothed, needy cunt.

Withering away, his grip on your legs became tighter as he held you in place, fighting your urge to run away. Lifting your dress, he was met with the blue lace trim underwear. Pulling them to the side swiftly, he smiled at the way it glistened before putting his fingers on your sticky clit and rubbing circles on it. 

Mewling in response, he replaced his fingers with his mouth before sucking on your pussy and running his tongue between your folds. Thick thighs squished his ears as he continued his assault on you, hearing your muffled moans as your nails raked through his hair, tugging on it lightly.

He was in heaven. In between your thighs was where he belonged, listening to the way you whimpered for more, feeling you come close to your first orgasm of the night. Feeling his pants tighten around his dick as you begged him to let you cum. Bringing his calloused fingers back to your puffy clit he began to make small circles on it feeling you shake slightly as your orgasm washed over you. 

Releasing your legs from his grip, he watched as your chest rose and fell as you tried to think about your current predicament. Not having a chance to let your brain catch up, you feel Johnny hover over you to take off your dress, revealing the matching lace bra that held your tits with the piercings on them.

“If I knew any better, I would think you planned on me to fuck you,” he chuckled before unbuckling his pants, letting you see his hard-on as it could barely be contained in his boxers before squeezing it.

“Fuck you look so sexy like this,” he said as he reached to pull your panties off, being mesmerized by a string of slick connected to your underwear, throwing them on the floor before taking off his own. Hearing the way his long, girthy dick stood at attention. 

Feeling embarrassed, he kissed your temple, loving the way you shivered under him.

“You’re awfully quiet, doll,” he whispered. 

“Are you gonna keep teasing me, or are you actually going to fuck me” you spat quietly in his ear.

Kissing his teeth, he gave your needy pussy a few slaps before bucking into you. His pace started off relentless as his balls collided with your thighs; as the loud, squelchy sounds started to flood the room.

“F-fuck.” you moaned, hands coming to play with your clit as he continued fucking into you. 

“S-shit, that's it, sweetheart. Keep playing with that pretty clit for me,” he groaned out, lips going in between his teeth as you clenched down for me. 

You felt yourself about to cum again. Drawing tighter circles on yourself, you began to cry for release.

“Cumming again, baby? Fuck” he asked with a shit-eating grin on his face.

“I-i need it. Johnny, please let me cum” you squirmed, feeling it becomes too much for you. 

“You can cum, my superstar.” he fought out, feeling you clench down on him.

Hearing you squeal, you lay on the bed breathless and dizzy, some small pieces of your hair sticking onto your sweaty body.

“You have no idea the things you do to me,” he said, kissing you deeply. 

Soon after, he was flipping you over to your knees, making you arch your body so that your ass was in the sky. You felt vulnerable as you looked back at him, sticking his angry flush tip and inserting your weeping pussy again.

“Next time, I should try your wrist together and fuck you like this all night,” he grunted as he pushed your back further into its arch, beginning to fuck you again.

Trying to catch onto his rhythm, you began to rock your hips back and forth, trying to meet his thrusts. Grabbing a handful of your ass, hit bit his lip in pleasure, accepting your thrusts.

“You‘re gonna make me cum. Fuck” he moaned out, squeezing his eyes shut.

“You can cum inside,” you whispered. 

Feeling something animalistic turn on in him, he started to fuck you deeper as he was nearing his release. 

“S-say it again for me,” he asked. 

“Inside, you can cum inside,” you responded louder this time.

“You’re gonna drive me crazy,” he grunted.

Feeling a bubbling pressure in your abdomen, you knew you were close again. Not giving a chance to warn Johnny, you felt a warm liquid trickle down your thighs as your legs shook.

Feeling squirt on his dick had him seeing stars as he delivered one last thrust before ropes of thick cum filled your cunt.

Falling onto the bed, you drooled onto the pillow, feeling your eyes get heavier by the second. Instantly, you felt a pair of warm arms cradle you to the bathroom, sitting you on the toilet as you heard water running into the tub. The smells of lavender and vanilla filled your nose as you attempted to keep your eyes open. 

Feeling yourself get picked up again, placed into the warm water, and feeling a structured body come behind you as you lay on it. 

“Did so good for me, sweetheart. My superstar,” he said, kissing your temple as you nodded off. 

[ohcorny]

So who of the characters here would you say you relate to?

lol

well i gave lucy all my anxieties from not knowing anybody when i started college. the bit where they think broom girl only invited them to the dinner out of pity in chapter one was lifted directly from my experience of being invited to sit at a lunch table by a girl and it was very obvious to me she was only doing it because i was sitting alone

(that girl later turned out to be racist and weirdly christian so bullet dodged when i said no)

and philomena's bit with tully in chapter 4 where he's reassuring her she's a good person and she's like "i don't want to hear that right now" was lifted from when i had got in trouble with a teacher for being a smug bitch online to a classmate, and the teacher said he didn't really want to punish me because i was the best student in the class. and i was like ??? dont say that thats what made me think it was okay to be a smug bitch?? that experience altered my brain chemistry tbh, very bizarre to be told you shouldn't be punished for acting like you're better because you are. that doesn't map 1:1 to philomena's experience but sometimes you don't want to be reassured that you're totally good when you know you did something wrong.

and seiji has all my internal teen boy impulses. it's no surprise he became more important in the story after i transitioned lol. i wanted to play in garbage boy space

[cloudcountry]

I've been wanting to talk to you for ages and I saw you opened Fellow Honest requests-- so...🥺👉🏻👈🏻

No but seriously, if it would be alright with you, I'd like to request a small story with a really cautious reader whose despite their best judgement can't help but catch feelings for Honest<3

Once again, only if it would be ok with you, ofc!! I tried making sure this doesn't go against any of your request rules so I hope you can do this whenever you have the time/want to☺️

Really love your writing! Pls take your time<33

- 🍄

SUMMARY: fellow isn't accepting your evasiveness as an answer.

WARNINGS: none!!

COMMENTS: please feel free to stop by again anon!! i dont want people to feel like theyre not allowed to talk to me. i know im scary but im begging you, if you ever want to talk to me just shoot me an ask on anon!! thank you for being so sweet <3

Fellow must think it’s funny to make you squirm in your seat.

He circles you again, a knowing gaze pinning you to the chair as you stare at your hands and gnaw at your lip. It’s been so long now, too long now, of him interrogating you. You can’t tell him what he wants to know because it will destroy you, and yet he keeps pressing and pressing and pressing and oh dear, he really isn’t going to give this up without a fight.

“I just want to know why you’ve been so skittish lately.” he croons, voice soft as it brushes against the shell of your ear, “That’s all you have to tell me, dollface. That’s all I want to know.”

“I don’t want to tell you. I’ve told you this already.” you murmur, voice soft as your heart pitter-patters in your chest.

Why oh why did the love of your life have to come in such an evil, relentless, teasing form! It was almost as though the world was kicking you out of your comfort zone with a steel-toed boot.

You weren’t ready for what he had to offer. You weren’t ready for the adventure and danger being his lover would surely bring.

You weren’t ready to admit that all of those things were petty excuses.

“I guess I’ll have to try again tomorrow.” he sighs, as theatrical as usual.

You stare up at him with worry in your gaze as he turns his back on you. You know full well he’s got something up his sleeve, or else he won’t be so smug about your silence.

His trick comes in the form of his face inches from yours as he whips around again, grabbing the back of the chair and leaning down so his face is right in front of yours.

He stares, and your mouth is gaping like a fish out of water, and your cheeks are burning up and your breath is shaky and—

And he pulls away.

He pulls away with a smirk and a soft “gotcha” before he turns around and leaves you.

[manicpixiefelix]

head, heart, hand. {Felix Catton/Reader/Oliver Quick}

Part 21.

Summary: The morning after Oliver fucks around with Venetia, and he has the gall to act like he doesn't know why you and Felix are in such a bad mood. Unfortunately his lies about the event don't placate you the same way they do for Felix.

{ masterpost }

Need to Know: They/Them. Explicitly NB Reader. FWB!Reader/Felix. Reader is from a well off family but has pretty much been adopted by the Cattons.

A/N: 5412 words. this chapter was meant to explain felix & eddie's relationship, but that got YEETED to several chapters in the future when this ended up over 5k as it was. if you're questioning my characterisation of the reader, just know that they're a complex individual and dont always make the most thoughtful choices. sorry it's late, i still love this and you, i will finish this fic or die trying. <3

TAGLIST IN COMMENTS!! // TAGLIST ALWAYS OPEN ! (just message or comment to be added)

----

The morning sun is a cruel mistress, you think as one of the maids - Emily? You're barely awake, you can't quite tell in the onslaught of sudden light - pulls the curtains back, announcing breakfast would be ready shortly. Felix groans, sounding exactly as enthusiastic about the prospect as you feel.

"I'm cancelling today," he muttered, muffled where he'd sunk further down into the bed and pulled the covers over his head, "it doesn't exist." Wriggling onto your side and desperately trying to ignore the brightness of the impending day, you hummed in agreement.

"Sounds good to me," you yawned, squeezing your eyes shut, as if attempting to will yourself back to sleep. But you both know it can't really last.

Felix is grumbling under his breath the entire time he's getting dressed - stupid bloody Saltburn, and it's stupid bloody rules, and stupid bloody Oliver, and stupid, bloody, goddamn Venetia; the nerve on her, honestly - while all you could do was yawn, and make faint, distracted noises of agreement. Both of you go quiet on your way to breakfast, keeping your frustrations bottled up to keep the peace in front of the rest of the family, but it still didn't make things easier.

They're eating outside that morning, taking advantage of the beautiful weather by the courtyard. Venetia's looking all kind of pretty and smug, her gaze trained on Oliver as you and Felix join the table, while Farleigh looks to you, cigarette poised and beautiful between his slender fingers, wearing a grim expression as he takes in the state of you and his cousin. When his gaze meets yours, for a second it darkens, and he quirks a single eyebrow in unspoken question. Despite the way you sit primly in your chair, trying to feign nonchalance, Felix slumps down on your other side, between you and his father, the furthest seat from Oliver he can manage. It's answer enough.

"You sleep well?" Oliver turns to both you and Felix. It's almost like you can hear stupid, bloody Oliver run through Felix's head before he answers.

"No, not really, mate," Felix has never been one to hide how he feels. Once, you'd told him as much, and though he hadn't taken it well at the time - he'd been in a mood, it was why the topic had come up at all - but he'd come back to you the next day saying that Venetia and his parents had always told him as much. It was one of the reasons he liked being around you, he'd said, not because you don't bring up his moods - obviously you did - but he said he could never stay in a bad mood for too long around you. In this moment, you were really wishing that was true, because this level of sulking was one you'd only seen in the weeks after Eddie had left.

Oliver looks concerned, the picture of an innocent, worried friend, like he has absolutely no idea why Felix was clearly unhappy. You try not to look at Oliver as much as you can help it. So you stand, press a kiss to the top of Felix's head as you pass him, and make your way to get the both of you breakfast as Sir James talks about the dinner being hosted the following night. Apparently one of the attendees - Sackfield, Sussex natives, if you recall rightly - had dropped out, leaving the guest list at thirty.

"God I forgot about fucking dinner," Felix groaned around a cigarette he'd already managed to light in the short space of time he'd been at the table.

"Wait, who is coming to dinner again?" Farleigh asks with a vague frown.

"The Henrys," Venetia announced cheerfully as Farleigh sighed his protests. The girl had no fucking shame; you fight the urge to flick a blueberry at her, mostly since you know you'd miss at this distance.

"Who are the Henrys?" Oliver enquired, as if trying to ignore the mood of almost a third of the table. If you'd turned, you'd see him looking to you; even now you were seen as a fountain of information about the formalities and events that went on here. If you'd turned, you still wouldn't have answered him.

"Dad's friends," Venetia answers instead, "they're all called Henry."

"Not all of them," Sir James rebuffed quickly from beside his son, looking up from his morning paper.

"Just most," you called back, as if out of habit alone.

"It'll be fun," Elspeth tried to insist, though Venetia was quick to chime in again, smug as always as you made your way back to the table.

"It'll be, being molested by Henry," Venetia's smugness at least dropped with that, adding as an aside to her mother, "you know which one."

"Well I'll put you next to Oliver, then," Elspeth sniped back, "he can molest you instead."

Unfortunately you return the table just in time to see the look Oliver gives to Venetia, and the little giggle she answers with. No-one in this house knows subtlety and you kind of hate them both. However it seems you're not the only one who notices, as Felix's eyes flick between Oliver and his sister, glowering at them both as you place a plate of fresh fruit in front of him. He's surly enough that he doesn't even thank you, but in this moment, you don't care; expressions mirroring each other in a way neither guilty party seems to notice as they focus on each other instead.

"Oh, Oliver," the moment is broken, however, by Elspeth, energised with a new thought, reaching out to Oliver sitting beside her, catching his attention, stealing it from Venetia for the time being, "I was going to say, we should do something fun for your birthday." She's insistent, though Oliver is confused. Right about now you regret informing her that Oliver's birthday would be occurring during the time he was at Saltburn, "a proper party, no Henrys," she's insistent, "something actually fun;" she glances at Sir James, hand still resting on Oliver's, "what do you think, darling?"

"If Oliver would like it, I think it's a splendid idea," Sir James agrees amicably. You begin to eat your breakfast, hoping your gaze doesn't burn a hole in the table like you think it might.

"I think Oliver looks like he'd rather throw himself out of window," Farleigh chimes in flatly, actually startling a laugh from you that you have to quickly cover with a cough. When you look up, he's levelling a cold smile at the man himself, but when his gaze flicks to you and how you're trying to hide your embarrassment in a glass of water, his gaze turns almost fond. Solidarity; for all the shit he'd said to you last night, you really did adore Farleigh.

"What kind of party?" Oliver turns back to Elspeth, and you go back to your food, only after glancing quickly at Felix. He's too caught up in his brooding to be amused by Farleigh's aside; he's too caught up in his brooding to do more than smoke and poke at his breakfast with his fork like it's offended him.

"I don't know, whatever you want," Elspeth offers, already planning in her head, knowing the matriarch and her love of events, "what do you think? About a hundred people?" Chin on her hand, she's looking through Oliver more than she's looking at him.

"A hundred?"

"Or two," Elspeth takes his shock the wrong way entirely, "it invariably ends up being two with this sort of thing, doesn't it?" She looks over to her husband, while Oliver looks to you and Felix, that look in his eyes like he's out of his depth at Saltburn once more, "invite whoever you want," Elspeth insists, returning her attention to him, "all your friends -"

"What friends?" Farleigh mutters cruelly, but this you don't find nearly as amusing. For a moment, there's a twinge of guilt in your chest, but Sir James provides a clean distraction as he excitedly suggests the party be fancy dress.

While Elspeth and Sir James are both enthused about the suggestion - Sir James is always looking for an opportunity to wear his suit of armour, he's almost embarrassingly proud of it - Oliver tries to reach out to you like he can tell you're upset too, like he's concerned. When you shift out of his reach subtly, Felix catches sight of the movement and follows it to Oliver's hand coming back to rest on the table. Expression flickering with irritation, Felix offers you his cigarette, and you take it, crossing one leg over the other as he starts on his own breakfast and you push yours away with your free hand. Both of you are decidedly focused on the table.

Venetia absconds from the table for reasons you can't bring yourself to even half care about as Elspeth settles on A Midsummer Night's Dream as the theme for the party. Usually you'd be all but matching her joy at the suggestion, or at least matching Farleigh and his amused aside about slutty fairies, but your stomach is turning all of a sudden.

Felix clears his throat quietly, and takes a quick sip of water, but it still draws your attention, if not anyone else's. The way he gives the barest gesture with his head would be missed by anyone but you, but you can read it for what it is.

Go if you need to go, don't feel like you have to stay here.

Immediately you stand, drawing all eyes but Felix's, not caring either way. Handing back his cigarette, or what was left of it, he mutters a thanks, but doesn't look up from where he's lazer focused on his food.

"Captain," Duncan's voice speaks into the sudden silence, "if you have finished with your breakfast -"

"I have."

"Then I'd appreciate a brief word with you."

Nodding jerkily, you follow him into the foyer to see a thick, yellow envelope on a little table by the door, topped with a thin piece of card. He hands you the envelope first, before holding the card up to show you it was a notice from the local post office, telling you there was some large items that arrived. They'd be the flowers you'd had flown in; they wouldn't last long in some storage facility. Damn, alright, you sighed, expression pinched as you wondered if it was worth it to even pick them up at this point.

"Have someone collect them and put them in the greenhouse for now -"

"The greenhouse?" Duncan sounds almost confused.

"I mean, check if they're the flowers I ordered, first, and if they are, have them unpacked and put into the greenhouse, I'll get to them," you waved your hand dismissively through the air, "eventually."

"Of course," he acquiesces, and you thank him quietly.

Already exhausted by the day, despite it not even being close to noon, you head to your study, weighty envelope of documents in your hand. Later this week, they'd said in the email, you thought you'd have more time. Huh, that seems to be a sentiment plaguing you often these past few days.

"Everything alright?" Felix, draped over the wicker sofa on his balcony, hears you come in and doesn't even get up. Giving nothing more than an irrate, dismissive noise, you throw yourself onto the bed, "yeah it's a bit like that, isn't it?" He muses loud enough for you to hear.

"It can't be that hard to be a parent," you snapped, rolling onto your back, leaving the envelope on the bed by your side.

"If it was easy, nannies and wet nurses wouldn't have a job," Felix offers, though has the grace to add, "but I know what you mean." Then, sitting up, if the squeaking of the wicker was anything to go by, he asks what's wrong, softer this time. Looking to him, you scowl, and flick your hand to smack the envelope, "they being assholes to you again?"

"Always," you sighed, before adding without much thought, "sometimes I'm tempted to marry you so I can tell people I have half-decent parents for the first time in my life."

"But you'd have Venetia as a sister-in-law," Felix offered with clear distaste, but it's enough to get you to laugh, to break your discomfort.

"Forgot that part; you think Farleigh being my cousin is enough to make up for it?"

And Felix, thankfully, is grinning too. It's him who suggests getting out of the sweltering house on this beautiful day, getting out of both your heads with some time spent down by the pool. Right now, you'd take anything to try distract you from the packet of paper by your side.

The last thing you do before you head to the pool, book in one hand and towel in the other, is toss the envelope onto the desk in your study for later. Later you'd deal with your parents. Later you'd deal with Oliver and possibly get him expelled from Oxford if you're feeling especially vindictive after some reading or a swim. But for now, out of sight, out of mind.

Except it doesn't work for long.

While you'd chosen one of the armchairs to curl up in while you were in the early chapters of a memoir your Marketing professor had recommended to you, which was keeping your thoughts at bay, Felix had said he'd wanted to swim. After getting in for all of five minutes, he'd spent the rest of the time drinking jack and cokes through a curly straw and getting lost in his own thoughts again as he sunbathed. He's been alternating between smoking and sweets, and you have decidedly not commented on his attitude.

Both of you are wearing very little, looking as though you're on your way to the pool or the lake, probably looking like the start of any number of fantasies Oliver may have had. At least, that's what crosses your mind when you catch sight of him, gazing at you both with quiet longing. The sight of him like this, his eyes on you both, so clearly wanting, would have delighted you even twenty-four hours ago. Except so much had happened in those twenty-four hours.

I want to know you. I want to love you. But there's something wrong with you.

And then he'd gone and messed around with Venetia after you'd explicitly warned him not to. Your gaze leaves Oliver as he approaches, instead frowning down at your book, irritation settling in your bones.

Felix notices your shift before he notices Oliver. But that's when Oliver makes himself known.

"Hey," he drapes himself across the sun lounge on Felix's other side, blue eyes boring holes into the side of your best friend's head, while Felix refuses to acknowledge him, "Felix," Oliver tries more insistently, but gets no response, "is everything okay?" Finally Oliver asks. You turn a page pointedly, but Felix still answers.

"Yes," his tone is anything but okay, "why?"

"You seem annoyed about something," Oliver says carefully, almost demurely, "you both do," he adds after a moment as Felix makes a face. You turn another page you have not read.

"I'm not annoyed about anything," Felix clearly lied, and though Oliver sounded unconvinced, he tried to take him at his word. Except Felix isn't done, "it's just slightly bad form, that's all."

"What's bad form?" Oliver asks flatly, as if he has no fucking idea.

"What do you think?" Thankfully Felix's tone is annoyed enough for the both of you.

"What do you think?" He scoffed, disbelieving at this little act Oliver was clearly putting on, "getting with Venetia, Ollie," he has to spell out to make sure Oliver doesn't weasel out of the accusation. Still, he tries - the audacity.

"What makes you think I got with Venetia?"

"Farleigh saw you two," Felix answered immediately, "told Y/N all about it -" finally you allow yourself to look up, to level a cold stare at Oliver, who seems almost surprised when he meets your gaze; you make a faint tsk sound, as if to confirm, and go back to look at your book as Felix goes on, indignant, "it's just fucking cringe, mate, I mean really," he huffed, "you're my friend, you're supposed to be here with me -"

"Look, I didn't want to embarrass Venetia," Oliver cuts him off suddenly. Both you and Felix turns to look at Oliver very slowly.

"What do you mean?" Already Felix's voice is softer, still unable to fully bring himself to look at Oliver, while you're fascinated by the panic in Oliver's eyes.

"Well I saw her- I saw her outside and I went down to see was she okay," Oliver can't look at either of you in this moment; you wonder if he's scared to look you in the eyes as he weaves this little story of his. Fascinating to watch, "and... I think she got the wrong end of the stick because..." he trailed off, but his gaze returned to Felix. So gentle, so eager to placate his friend's ego, "she tries to kiss me, and I politely steered her away." It sounds very believable.

"Farleigh said you two were practically eating each other," you finally find your voice, still wary, unlike Felix, who was quickly buying into this series of events. He wants to believe in Oliver so badly.

"Oh, and you believe him?" Oliver shoots off almost automatically, but the minute his gaze meets yours, he has to look away; you absolutely still believed Farleigh, and Oliver could see it in your eyes. But then he's almost scoffing - "me and Venetia? Come on."

"Well, why didn't you tell me?" Felix sounded softly betrayed, but clearly won over, and Oliver returns his attention to the safer of the two of you, gaze trained on Felix and his pout.

"I just..." he searches for a believable answer, something Felix wouldn't hate him for; Venetia was still his sister after all, "I thought it'd be nicer not to," he settles on, "she was hammered, probably doesn't remember," which was unfortunately in character for the eldest Catton sibling.

"She's so embarrassing," Felix finally groaned, and you know he's bought it, hook, line, and sinker. You go back to your book, "and fucking Farleigh, what a little shit-stirrer," he huffs, to which you add, carefully casual.

"He's always known how to get a rise out of me," you know Farleigh wasn't lying to you; Farleigh was a shit-stirrer, but after last Summer, he would never be so cruel as to joke about this. But you play along. Oliver's looking at you now, you can see it in your peripheries, you can almost feel it.

"Well someone has to entertain us all," Oliver offers, to which Felix faintly agrees, glancing at you with a faint question in his eyes, like you're the final piece left to solidify whether he believes. Giving a faint, exasperated smile, you echo him softly - right - and see him finally relax, "that's why we love him," Oliver adds, in what you know is an incredibly pointed move, considering his strained relationship with Farleigh himself.

Felix finally breathes a loud sigh of relief.

"Thank god," he exclaims, like the weight of the world had been lifted from his shoulders, turning so casually to Oliver with an easy grin, "you know, I thought we had another Eddie situation," despite his casual mention of the past guest at Saltburn, you, several feet away, go perfectly still.

"Eddie?" Oliver asks carefully.

"Yeah, Eddie was my- um, he was my best friend at school," the way Felix stumbles over his wording momentarily is not lost to either you or Oliver, "and he came to stay with us," he continues as light as before, "and he kind of..." Felix makes an uncomfortable noise for a second, fidgeting at the memory, "developed a little thing for Venetia, and everything just got so awkward." Eddie broke Felix's fucking heart, your mind snarled defensively, though as he always has, since the initial betrayal had occurred, Felix retold a much lighter history, "yeah, it kind of ruined our... you know..."

"Ruined your friendship?" Oliver supplied, getting a noncommittal hum from Felix, who refused to elaborate further, "I can imagine," he quietly adds, sounding altogether empathetic to the situation.

Clearing his throat loudly, desperate to remove himself from the discomfort the memories had left him in, Felix declares his intentions to head back inside, not waiting for either Oliver or yourself before he collects his towel and absconds. At least, you find yourself thinking, he moves with far more ease, far less tension, than he'd arrived with. It eases something in you too, as you watch him go, able to smile at his retreating figure before remembering how you're still being watch by Oliver. Oliver who'd all but yelled at you last night because you hadn't told him about your mother. Oliver who you're almost certain definitely did fuck around with Venetia last night, despite what he'd said.

Sure, you could get over Oliver and Venetia being together for one night since he'd felt guilty for having betrayed Felix, and worked to create a lie that even absolved Venetia of anything other than being a predictable embarrassment to her brother. That you could forgive, even if you knew it was a lie.

But his words still haunt you from last night.

"You're still annoyed at me," Oliver moves to take Felix's seat the minute he figures Felix is out of earshot. You don't want to dignify the comment with a response; your sour look should be answer enough. But then his voice turns soft; "you didn't tell Felix what I said to you, did you?" It's not a real question; Oliver's watching you once more with a kind of anthropological fascination that you remember from back at Oxford. In an attempt to avoid his gaze, you bury your nose in your book.

"No idea what you mean."

There's something wrong with you.

"Can I be blunt for a moment?" Oliver asks with a surprising hesitancy. Oliver is often blunt, so the asking seems more and more like a performance than anything else. You turn the page of the book you're definitely not retaining a single word from.

"'m not going to stop you," you huffed momentarily. Oliver, for the long few seconds that follow, is quiet, is watching you. In this moment, his gaze is like a fucking scalpel; you wonder if he's going to ask if you realise believe him, or if he's realised how he hasn't even tried to apologise for what he'd said.

"Why 're you being good to me?"

"If what I am right now is your version of good, that's bloody tragic," you tell him airily, "what was I to you before, saint-like?" It comes out rather bitter, but thankfully Oliver doesn't seem deterred.

"You've always been good to me; all things considered I think this is the most saint-like I've ever seen you," and it sounds sincere enough that you lower your book, expression flat when you finally turn your attention to him. But his blue eyes are earnest, sitting on the edge of the chair far closer than before, all his attention, his focus on you, "you love me," he says quietly, almost awed by the words themselves, "even after all that stuff I said to you; you still love me enough to keep that from Felix -"

"Because how he feels about you shouldn't be effected by how you feel about me; it's not his business," you tried, feeling trapped by the truth of his words.

"You are his business," Oliver insists, and your mouth snaps closed; you kind of hate that he's right, "and you love him like nothing I've ever seen before," he wets his lips, eyes wide when he leans across the space towards you, hand coming to rest on your knee, "but you know he'd never give me another look if he heard about how I spoke to you -"

"I know," you agreed with an awkward little huff, finally, "so you could at least apologise to me," avoiding his eye contact, the silence spills from one moment to the next until you hear him take a deep breath.

"I'm sorry for prying about your mum," his thumb is gentle as he rubs small circles against your skin. The thing that lays unspoken between the two of you, the remainder of the apology, why it's lacking, is not a mystery; he's not sorry for the rest of his outburst because he believes it's true, and he knows you think so too.

Still, the apology itself has you relaxing, settling, feeling far more unburdened than before.

"What do you want me to say, Ollie?" Finally, you spoke. It's barely more than a sigh, book closed and head turned to the sky. When Oliver makes a confused noise, not quite sure about what you mean, you sighed, "if you meant what you said last night, about wanting to- to know me, to, you know -" love me, sits heavy on your tongue, unable to leave your lips, "what do you want to know, what do you want me to tell you, what can I say?"

It doesn't occur to you the way it does to Oliver, how starkly revealing your choice of words often is. Once again you find yourself acquiescing to others wants, to Oliver's implicit demand for your truth, taking the path of least resistance for yourself. Instead you're wondering why Oliver's hesitating now of all times, when finally being given what he'd apparently wanted; you don't understand his reluctance, how he feels as though he's coerced this offer from you, how he almost feels disgusted with himself for what he perceives to be your honesty under duress.

"What 're you reading?" He finds his voice finally, but it's surprisingly meek. This was not the question you'd been anticipating, and your eyes open, looking to him curiously. There's no coldness to your gaze anymore. Oliver's gone bashful and almost apologetic. Raising the book enough that you could show off the cover, you levelled a confused frown at him as he asks if it's good.

"It's dry," you tell him after a beat, "but it's modern, so it's not the worst of it's kind that I've slogged through." When you rise from your chair, he seems almost confused until you sit yourself down next to him, laying back on the sofa and coaxing him back to recline in the space by your side, as you'd done what feels like a million times over with Felix and Venetia. At first, Oliver is stiff, looking all too much like a timid deer, half pressed to you until you continue to explain, "a lot of biographies published by successful businessmen from pretty much any time before two-thousand will invariably have this weird undercurrent of biological essentialism and how the subject owes a lot of his confidence and intelligence and all that bullshit to the fact that he's a man, which is why I'm glad my professor had the good grace to recommend me this one, since that caveman-binary-bullshit is gross as hell."

Oliver nods where he's tucked up against your side, gazing at the book in your hand. You can feel him relax into the familiar contact.

"Is that really the most pressing question you had?" At least you sound far lighter than before when you asked it, almost teasing, and Oliver takes a deep breath, still looking at the biography and your finger stuck between the pages in leu of a bookmark.

"Why'd you go into business of all things to study?" His cheek presses against your shoulder, your arm around him warm and secure. A humourless laugh escapes you, and carefully you open the book with the one hand holding it.

"Because a failed lawyer makes a terrible CEO," you'd chuckled more to yourself than to Oliver. It takes you a moment to compose yourself and your thoughts before you give a proper explanation; "the only good thing about my father being in charge of my family's business is that he cares so little about it that he hasn't tried to interfere with it, and therefore hasn't run it into the ground, at least that's what Nan says." Then, wetting your lips, you give him an awkward smile, "you asked me a few days ago what my dad does; Andreas - that's my dad - he doesn't do anything," you admitted, "everyone thinks he runs the family business, but it's a vanity title. At best he's a trophy husband to Pearl - you met Pearl - and her artistic, philanthropy bullshit."

Oliver doesn't manage more than a quiet 'oh', but he settles himself against you, chin on your shoulder, arm warm when he drapes it over your middle. For a few, gentle moments you go back to reading, flipping back the few pages you'd skipped in your frustration with him earlier. There's comfort in the slow turning of pages, in the steady beat of Oliver's heartbeat pressed against your side, in the rhythm of your shared, quiet breaths.

"You still believe what Farleigh said, don't you?" Oliver's voice is so quiet in your ear, he actually sounds forlorn.

"Of course I do," you murmur back, trying to focus on the words in front of you.

"He's just trying to push your buttons."

"Farleigh doesn't have to try if he wants to menace me."

"Nothing I say will convince you, will it?"

Finally, you close your book, sighing faintly. Closing your eyes, allowing yourself to accept this conversation was happening now, you shake your head.

"You think I wanted to hurt Felix that badly that I'd fool around with Venetia?" Oliver tries again to convince you, but your tip your head to face him, expression unimpressed, but not unkind.

"Farleigh is a shit-stirrer, and I'd believe that Ven was drunk, but you, Oliver Quick, are neither as subtle as you think you are, nor as harmless as you want everyone to believe; I think I know that better than anyone," after a moment, you take a deep breath, "and trust me when I say that Farleigh wouldn't lie to me about this."

"If you believe that, why'd you let me lie to Felix?" Its as close to an omission of guilt as you'd get, but that's something about how Oliver apparently respects you enough to not outright deny it that brings you a strange comfort.

"You know why," voice softening once more, place your book down to free your hands. Holding his cheek gently, you can watch the faint guilt in his gaze before his eyes fall closed and he leans into your touch, "I know you won't do it again." His head tips until his forehead is pressed to yours, and you sit in this quiet moment for a long few seconds.

"I don't want to break Felix's heart," Oliver breathes, sounding, for the first time, genuinely remorseful. Hand moving from his cheek, you wrap him up in an embrace, "I do love him," he mumbled, voice barely above a whisper, adding, "and you."

"I know," you assured him, "our Ollie," you teased warmly, and though Oliver remains quiet, when you crack your eyes open you can see him turning red, fighting back a pleased smile, "you're very good at playing bashful, so I always find myself especially endeared in these moments between us when it's actually genuine," slips from your lips quite without you meaning it to, only causing Oliver's blush to deepen. But as soon as you've said it, seen his reaction, your grin widens and you double down, "catching you off guard always catches me off guard, I feel like you're always so deliberate -"

Oliver kisses you quick as you laugh, interrupting your teasing kind of analysis of him before you can get too far in. Another deliberate play, but this one you don't mind. Oliver pulls back from you, only a few inches, enough to once against rest his forehead against yours as you're still sharing this space, this single pool lounge together. He's grinning so brightly.

"At least there's one person here I can fool around with without my head getting bitten off because of it."

[ghcstao3]

I dont know if you take requests but?? You had an alive riley family headcanon post with teeen joeseph and man i would really like to see more of that (bonus if theres ghostsoap during it)

i can definitely do that!! (and i also encourage you to check out this drabble from @snootlestheangel that was inspired by the original post. very wholesome stuff)

-

Simon often likes to wonder if Tommy thinks he’s funny for putting his little brother on babysitting duty.

Granted, it’s not exactly babysitting anymore—Joseph’s twelve, for Christ’s sake—but Simon has to know what exactly has Tommy snickering when he dumps the kid on his uncle’s doorstep for the weekend.

Because everything at least starts normal—they set up the extra bedroom, Joseph asks about Simon’s latest missions (all questions replied to with embellished half-truths or flat-out “classified”s, as per usual), they order in for dinner because he’s supposed to be the fun uncle as opposed to the one on Beth’s side of the family.

All of it starts normal. Which has Simon on edge, even if it’s only his pre-teen nephew at the centre of his worries.

It takes a few days before Simon figures it out.

And it’s all because he somehow ends up with his sergeant unexpectedly at his front door, because of course Johnny couldn’t be bothered to call ahead and check it wasn’t one of those rare times Simon was busy while on leave.

So here he is.

Anticipating disaster as Johnny introduces himself to Joseph—both having heard of the other, but no more than in vague statements and short stories and never enough to get a real first impression.

“I’m John,” the sergeant says, friendly enough, “I work with your uncle.”

“John?” To Joseph’s credit, he does sound in some genuine awe, as far as a twelve-year-old can manage. “Woah—like the captain?”

“Uh.” It’s the first time Simon has ever seen Johnny rendered speechless. “Not quite.”

Simon ruffles Joseph’s hair. “He’s not old enough, Jo.”

Joseph narrows his eyes at Johnny. Simon recognizes the cogs turning just too late and is entirely powerless to stop it.

“Well,” Joseph starts, “you look old enough.”

Ah.

“Joseph—“

Johnny snorts, though he does bristle almost imperceptibly—stands straighter, folds his arms over his chest. “‘S’fine, LT. I can take a joke.”

"Can you?" Joseph interjects. The way he tilts his head in that sort of smug way tells Simon exactly why Tommy had been so happy to rid of the kid for a few days.

He's finally reached that age, it would seem.

Johnny frowns down at the kid—though down may be an overstatement, as even at twelve Joseph has surely gotten the Riley height gene—almost with that same sort of analytic look to his face that he wears when disarming particularly complex bombs. Simon gets it; he's just as unequipped to deal with this.

"...I think I can," Johnny says slowly.

This reply appears satisfactory enough to Joseph, being that he nods and marches away to plant himself in front of Simon’s TV until he gets bored.

Because Lord knows Simon has things to discuss with Johnny.

Namely the smart-arse nephew he apparently has to apologize for.

“Right wanker you got on your hands,” Johnny remarks as soon as Joseph is out of earshot. “I’m nae even thirty. Old, my arse.”

“He’s usually well-behaved,” Simon mutters.

Johnny raises an eyebrow. “That so? ‘Cause I ken his uncle and I cannae say the same about him.”

Simon only rolls his eyes, then. Asks Johnny if he plans to stay for dinner because Simon doesn’t have enough ingredients for three, if so.

But it just continues, after that.

When Johnny manages to pull up a team photo because Uncle Simon doesn’t take photos, Simon is lovingly told that it doesn’t make sense anyone is scared of him because his mask looks like a last minute Halloween costume bought at Poundland the night of the 31st.

Then offhandedly Joseph is commenting that Johnny’s mohawk, mildly grown out and unruly as a cause of his own time off, makes him seem like a middle-aged dad trying to reminisce on his days in a failed, mediocre secondary school rock band as a way of mitigating his mid-life crisis.

The list goes on over the next day and a half, and while it’s never anything overly mean, it just… throws the two of them for a loop when this twelve-year-old is randomly insulting the most minute things in between normal conversation. Well-behaved conversation.

Johnny is long gone by the time Tommy returns to retrieve his son, but that doesn’t stop Joseph from blabbering about Uncle Simon’s friend, less-cool John—and isn’t it just so fun for Simon to have to explain his not-just-friendship, but-also-nothing-more relationship situation to his older brother—while also picking on his father’s outfit in the same breath.

The kid’s become an absolute menace.

Simon’s afraid for what thirteen might bring.

[aceinabook]

Scum Villian's Self-Saving System Vol. 4 by Mo Xiang Tong Xiu

Character 5| Setting 5| Plot 3.5| Writing 3.5| Enjoyability 4

Rating: 4.2 Spice Level: 2/5

I have finally read the extra fanfics of this series all ref constantly Bingmei VS Bingge! I enjoyed this as it feels fun and it's nice to see how different our vision of LBH is to Airplane's OG Binghe! It was so sad that he wanted SQQ to come with him, and annoyed that he didn't get what he wanted. Binghe then getting sad that SQQ thought Binghe was better at sex was kind of funny, but I actually don't really care for the sex scenes between them because it just feels not great.

I loved the Succubi extra is fun and seeing LQG getting jealous of a rando(Binghe obviously) that the Madam Meiyin's fortune telling. SQQ is so oblivious to everyone's feelings about him…sir please notice this angry boi flirting with you. I would also be super frustrated if I was LQG. Did not like the casual Transphobia of SQQ in this chapter though. Not cool my dude.

The Shen Jiu extras…I felt so bad for SJ. He was so misunderstood. I don't want to talk too much because you learn a lot about the OG goods and I think it's important. One of my favorite things about this is just the relationship of SJ and YGY was so important. Even his relationship with LQG, so good. None of this story excuses his abuse of LBH, he does regret it, but what can his regret do? I do see why he has so many fans and I can count myself among at least feel so bad for him. Maybe just dont take a child and abuse them just cause you think they had a better child and chance then you my dude. Ok??

The TLJ and SX extra was short and cute! Really is kind of funny of SQQ original vision of him and how he's just a little poetry and book loving guy who just wants to be spoiled.. just a little guy and SX just being like allright you keep owing me money little guy. I thought they were cute and it is very funny to see.

Airplane extras were so funny. He's just a pathetic dude I laughed so much during his extras. Also it was super funny to me that he told LBH that he should be pathetic to SQQ so SQQ will like him. It worked but WHY DID YOU SAY THAT?? MBJ being like….does this mean SQH likes me and then asking SQH being like being pathetic means you like them? SQH yeah it does! MBJ:omg he likes me. I see why Moshang is so popular. I did love that scene where SQH leaves MBJ and he freaks out on him. They had a lot of great moments.

The rest of the extras are just cute BingQui moments I liked all of these they were so cute! Binghe being Jealous of SQQ giving other people his attention being the norm. I did find it funny that Binghe started to read Regret of Chunshan outloud and being all smug about it and SQQ being flustered. It was very funny.

Airplane, why did you think the interview question was a good idea…..It was so funny that most of the questions SQQ was like I don't want to answer this and LBH just being like stop asking questions that just make Shizun mad! And getting mad at Airplane.

The Wedding Chapter was cute except for the weird sex scene. I thought it was cute SQQ whispered husband to LBH, but LBH not hearing was so sad dude. all you want he said husband just listen to his pathetic self.

Something I really liked about all these extras is it was about the world as a whole and not just the main couple. Most of them were really fun!

[malwaredykes]

one of the effects of Being Shot In The Head that took leigh a hot minute to realize is that she found herself pretty much unable to experience proper emotions. though she cant remember her old self very well, she thinks she used to be able to feel things like anger, joy, grief, terror. now she cant even imagine what those things felt like, and cant for the life of her describe them using her own words. its like being told to imagine&describe being unconscious, or being an inanimate object, or being a large group of people at once. what shes left with in terms of available emotional states is: a chronic underlying sense of dread/anxiety, nagging frustration, and brief smug satisfaction at solving a problem or figuring something out (something that feels like the unraveling of a painful knot in her head). and a lot of the aforementioned anxiety stems precisely from not feeling things she kind of senses she ought to be feeling. its like she can see the negative space, the void left where the "right" reaction/emotion ought to be, and she can kinda work with that, but it stresses her out (which in turn is more of a physical feeling than anything else). despite her general Umm Reason And Logic attitude she definitely does not devalue emotions--they serve a purpose, and while they can impair judgment, they can also enhance it, by keeping a person grounded and connected to other people, and by providing necessary shortcuts that make it so anything gets done. it worries her that she cant feel angry on somebody's behalf when she knows a grave injustice was done to them, she can't even feel angry or upset when somebody wrongs her, and she doesn't feel scared when faced with obvious immediate danger. once again she cant quite tell what she was like before being shot, how in-control she was of her emotions, how well she could relate to others, stuff like that. but as is obvious by now, shes very susceptible to overt self-scrutiny. as an ocd-haver. obviously a big part of her drug use is just self-medicating, though she doesnt think of it that way at all (which too is one of her many idiosyncrasies). hell she doesnt even quite laugh at things that are funny to her, shes just like. ooh thats funny, thats good. i think in all of that she forgets that joy missing from her life also affects her a lot. things just dont really make her happy. she's curious, she's determined, she can tell when something would make her happy or ought to make her happy, but the emotion just isn't there. in this way, having her love reciprocated doesnt even quite make a difference to her--which in itself isnt true, because of course it would; even if she cant feel happiness emotionally, being held and loved and cared for feels good on many levels, and since solving problems still feels good to her, well, not to get overly poetic but love (any love; platonic, romantic, etc) is a solution... no woman is an island. the fact that she can feel love and attachment despite everything, even though its very difficult for her to identify or admit to herself or comprehend, is proof enough. leigh, you love your friends... yes, how it feels to her is the reasonable efforts to work together, to look out for each other, to satisfy biological human instincts for interactions and companionship, and to use ones influence in somebody else's life to improve it as much as possible, because improving things is an Essential Rule. which, all of the above is honestly kind of funny when actually described, cuz like, wow leigh you sure love to overthink things. miss r/iamverysmart. but she is kind of lost! she can still see and feel those negative spaces, those missing pieces, theyre all over the place. as is the mental fog, the hallucinations, the occasional seizures. some part of her sense of self was ripped away from her and she doesnt even know how to feel angry at the guy who did it.

[chibikyo]

Highlights from my sister playing through story mode with me in mortal kombat 1. She's familiar with mk but not obsessed like me (gonna just copy/paste this shit from my discord chat)

!!!spoilers!!!

Sis: *clearly had been falling asleep last time we played* wait when did Raiden get hisnlightning back

Me: *explained that the last cutscene we watched showed just that

Sis: shit that's right. *Proceeds to kick li mei's ass*

****

Me: look at the cake on sindel and kitana and mileena

Sis: right!? Is she still forced married to shao kahn*looks closer at i believe sindel* girls that's just a thong!

Me: *explains new timeline shenanigans and differences*

****

Sis: i dont want to fight Shao he's scary

Me: yeah but... uppy

Sis: really? You want uppy? With him?

Later...

Sis: goddammit. I get it

Me: told you

Sis: it makes me fucking furious

*******

Also Sis: no i don't wanna fight Baraka. He bite

Me: nah he good boi.

Sis: dammit why they gotta make me feel bad for Baraka?

Me: why did they give him nice hands?

Sis: right?!

Me: its okay. You dont gotta be attracted to baraka like me

Sis: Look the game is making a strong case for him, ngl

*****

Sis: it baby! (Points to syzoth) *ishowed hwr before launch how the babygirlified him so she was ready*

Game: reveals tragic back story

Sis: NOOOO!!!

*****

Sis: why is everyone gotta be sad. I need a happy fighting game

*****

Also pretty sure she wants to climb Reiko like a tree and just. Same

*****

Sis: *talking to syzoth* but do you have two peens?

Me: 😏

Sis: its a valid question

My sister does breed gargoyle geckos so she would know

*****

Best bit!! My sister reduses to admit she thinks quan chi is hot, but usually mains him because of his special moves. She like the portals and stomping and when he hypnotizes you. So anyway

Me to my friends over discord: Omg. So also. When Johnny and kenshi and kung lao get knocked out I'm sitting there with her and the green portal opens

And under my breath i whisper ' here comes magic husband*

And Sara fucking goes "how can all these bad guys be here and they don't bother to include Quan ch...." literally as he steps out the portal. She's half way through the name when he shows up

Fucking lost my shit. She's pretty sure she didn't hear me just the green portal reminded her of him but the timing was so goddamn good

I was legit crying. We had to pause

My friend mikachu: Fuck! Why can't we be there for the good shit?

*****

So in short, my sister is fully engrossed in mk1 stort. She hasnt played story mode with me since 9 so I'm hoping i can get her to rewatch the 9-11 trilogy with me cause watching her watch 1 has been hysterical. We are on chapter 6 so if anyone wants more of this ill post more next time we play

She also watched shang tsung being a smug bitch and commented: "i thought I'd say no to him, cause he's an awful bastartd, but no. I'd tap that if he showed up."

[floshav]

yearning for you pt.1

pairings: regulus black x fem! reader

wordcount: 1.6k ૮ ˶ᵔ ᵕ ᵔ˶ ა

warnings: mean draco, mean blonde girl (smh) im sorry blondies, 2 heartbreaks, mentions of regulus's fingers being attractive(idk why this is a warning) Oh yea we have phones in this fic so kinda modern au?

summary: when draco seemingly leaves her for the pretty new thing of hogwarts, she finds her once bright heart slither into nothing but a dark piece of cold coal trying to wonder what she's ever done wrong to be left for, until someone that once lurked in the shadows comes to light and brings the fire back into her black coal heart once more. That person being the infamous regulus black that everyone seemed to misunderstand.

It had been 2 months. 2 months exactly of Draco and y/n officially being together. Today marked their 2nd anniversary and it was all that occupied y/n's "lovestruck" mind

"So..... What'd you think he's gonna do this time?" Daria sang sweetly as she began flipping through her selection of same coloured robes to choose for the day, like it made a difference at all which one she'd choose.

"I don't know, maybe a bouquet of flowers? a box of chocolates? They all seem a bit cheesy tho-" y/n sapped out whilst playing with her fingers as if they were the most interesting on earth.

"Oh come on y/n.. atleast he's gonna give you something rather than forgetting like Dean did last week." Daria sighed whilst finally picking out her final robe of choice

"Okay but Dean was an absolute git for that." Y/n gave her friend a look of pity before continuing "Look i dont know, lately Draco's been a bit... well.... a bit distant. I rarely see him nowadays."

It'd been true, what once was a 7 day meet-up together had turned into thrice a week, thrice a week into once a week, and once a week later turned into once every few weeks or whenever Draco felt like it. Whenever y/n tried to 'bump' into him in the halls in hopes of getting a kiss or some sort of affection she'd been ever so yearning for, he'd always blow her off saying he was running late for either it be class or quidditch. It was always something.

It was like she was an object for him to show off whenever he felt like it or a toy sitting on a shelf waiting to played with. The whole relationship didn't really seem that... real. It was all just a facade to show people that she managed to pull the playboy Draco of Hogwarts, but deep down.. was it really worth it?

time skip to Breakfast

"There, he's at that damn table again." y/n complained as she played with her screaming soggy wizards cereal waiting to be eaten

"Y/n. Stop yapping around and maybe try approaching him about this??" Daria let out exasperatedly before dropping her spoon down and moving to cup both sides of her face

"i-i don't know he's been an awful lot touchy with the newbie." Y/n moaned out whilst looking over at the horrific scene of Draco and Heather. That damn perfect pretty new blonde girl.

"Y/n! i will not stand for your idioticness! That's it if you won't do it i will." Daria raged before getting up to approach the two

"No! Daria get your white ass back here!" Y/n screamed out looking stupid as ever

"Hi~ Draco and... Holly? Polly? Sorry your names quite basic round' here" Daria whistled out sarcastically whilst crossing her arms

"It's Heather. Though i dont think someone like you would remember such basic info considering you can't even remember the names of the three forbidden curses or anything else for that matter.. seeing your recent test marks." Heather spat out abrubtly as if she had the whole speach memorised whilst gripping onto Dracos arm more as if she couldn't make it anymore painfully tighter.

"Who told you that!" Daria yelled with a flushed face remembering (ironically) that the only person she'd ever told was y/n

"Lil ol' Dracky here" She hummed sweetly with a big fat fake smile plastered on her smug face.

"Sorry Daria, looks like y/n over there cant keep her fat mouth shut." Draco said whilst shaking his overgrown bangs out his eyes

"Y-y/n? W-wait here." Daria said with red cheeks as she stomped back over to the place she was previously sat at

"Where else are we gonna go? Is she dumb or something." Heather and draco conversed as if Daria couldn't hear them from a mile away

"Y/n! What the hell? You told draco about my test marks?" Daria raged whilst causing a scene to erupt around her

"What?"

Oh shit.

"Listen! I didn't mean to- i-it just blurted out when we were discussing academic things! I swear!" Y/n defended with a sunken heart as if everything was shattering down a long with her

"Still! What the actual hell y/n! I Thought you could keep a secret! Let alone a humiliating one!" Daria yelled before storming out the main door that led into the great hall

"Fuck." y/n muttered under her breath as she gathered her stuff to leave too

The whole ordeal seemed a bit surreal and dramatic, but what could you do? They were all hormone raging douchebags anyway.

"Hey y/n." She heard the familiar voice of the boy who was supposed to love her yet pained her instead.

"D-draco? what do you want." Y/n said clearly mad at the ignorance she'd been receiving from him lately

"I just wanted to let you know that i dont think i want to see you anymore." Draco said cold heartedly as y/n's whole world came to a stop.

First Daria, now Draco? What else could possibly happen. Just as she was thinking, the final cherry on top was placed as the new girl was presented clutching onto his side like no tomorrow.

"Hmmm yea. Looks like i'm the new replacement for the rusted old one. Blonde hair and everything! What an upgrade." Heather intoxicatingly served out as she laid her head onto Dracos broad shoulder

"Fuck you. Fuck you and your whole life Draco." Y/n said just below a whisper before doing the exact same thing Daria did just a few minutes ago.

Time skip to after all classes

The air was more cold than usual at y/n's spot. The air crisp and cool as strikes of wind made its way past her hair. She thought back to the events of the day, how everything came crashing down even more quickly than when it was put together. A small stream of tears found its way to dampen her dirty robes just as the air around her dried it.

suddenly, an unfamiliar voice cooed out to her from behind.

"Y/n?" hushed the unknown voice

"Who's there" y/n said unbothered at this point without batting an eye

"Regulus from potions, d'know if you remember me let alone know me." He laughed out, and it was the prettiest sound y/n had ever heard."

"Oh yea, Regulus"

she sighed

"ive seen you around."

"Yea.. so, what has brought the fine majesty of potions to this ruged place today? Such a place is no match for the delicacy of Hydrangeas." Regulus questioned out in an equestrian like royal voice

"Hydrangeas?" Y/n chuckled out whilst smiling at him wide

"I've heard of many nicknames, but Hydrangeas? Thats a first." Y/n smiled to herself as a loose strand of hair fell into her field of view.

Regulus thought it was the most precious thing ever and made sure to capture a photo of it in his mind.

"Well what can i say, their my favourite." Regulus semi smiled out whilst looking into the abyss

"You're turn."

"Hm?"

"Why are you here mysterious man?"

regulus chuckled at the nickname

"Y'didnt answer my question yet dangea, wouldn't be fair for me to trade my secrets for nothing in exchange"

He'd shorten the nickname, and you liked it. You liked it a lot.

"D'know. Just here coz schools a bitch."

There it was, that pretty sound regulus made

"Yea. Yea i totally agree, schools a bitch." Regulus breathed

"Im just here coz it takes my mind of things." Regulus mumbled while tracing his slender pale fingers on the concrete you both sat on, feet dangling on the edge.

His fingers, you thought. Such pretty fingers

"You wanna see something?" Regulus inquired with curiousty blooming, just like Hydrangeas did when water hit them.

"Sure, why not."

He foraged around his robes pocket, to pull out what looked like a box filled with small papers.

He muttered a spell under his breath charming the paper to hold his precious digits on it.

"Wow, i never knew proffesor flitwick would teach us to be this smooth with charms." she chuckled before taking the piece of paper he gently handed to her

It read out his number, with a cute smiley face on the side and that was enough to make her day a lot times better.

"So... call me? Whenever schools being a bitch to you again that is."

"Yea.... i guess schools gonna be acting like a bitch for a lil while then." She smirked to herself, knowing all the times she could ring him up now just to hear that pretty little voice of his.

"Well drangea, I best get going. Got dinner in a while, i expect you to notice me at the tables now." Regulus chuckled before handing her an arm to get herself on her feet too

She hessistantly grabbed onto his lean arm not used to touch, and felt all the right tingles spark in her chest making her feel all flustered and hot. She wondered dangerously... how he could make her feel if all those tingles were just from his mere touch. Enough y/n she breathed.

"W-well! See you around mystery man. Wouldn't wanna bother you too much now that i've snagged your number."

"Ah, dont worrybout it ol' drangy." He said whilst making his way to the exit that sat on the roof.

"Call me!" He yelled before shutting the door on her.

She smiled. She smiled very wide at the events of the day.

-------------------------------------------

like this up if ya'll want pt 2 pls LMAOOA

[lleilafvx]

⋆˙⟡♡ A Certain Banquet

“i heard you needed a date?” (pt.1)

(OC) Jane Flores x Garreth Weasley (7th Years)

trope: best friends to lovers

the rest of the kids are fifth years, the only two are Jane and Garreth who are in their 7th. [NOT PROOFREAD]

“No! I already told you, I forbid myself to speak to Garreth about this,” Jane exclaimed. Her other best friend, Leila, had different plans about the situation.

Since the infamous Yule Ball was approaching next week, she figured her best friend would need some help in finding a partner for the dance. Jane had one, and only one, particular man in mind. Garreth Weasley, whom she fancied for.. Merlin knows how long.

The two girls sat inside their common room discussing what they should wear, planning on taking a view trips to Hogsmeade for a few dresses and hair styling. “So, when are you asking Garreth Weasley to the ball with you?” Leila asked. Jane flushed at the image of whom she admired for so long pop up into her mind, “I.. I dont really know, you know, like what if he doesn’t even want to be partners with me? You know how embarrassing that’d be?” Emphasizing the word “embarassing,” Jane stood up to pile her work together before neatly placing them inside her book bag.

Leila made a smug look on her face while crossing her arms at the same time, shifting to her direction, “are you being serious right now?” Jane sighed, knowing her best friend wouldn’t let the idea of it go, “I mean, we’ll see alright?” Leila uncrossed her arms, standing up as well to pack her things before heading off to charms class.

They both walked downstairs to the corridors, where they met their other friends from different houses, especially poppy sweeting, their brightest friend of all, but thats why she’s a Hufflepuff. Poppy glanced in their direction, eyes lighting up as soon as she saw the two girls walking together. She held out an arm, waving, “hello girls! You’re finally out your common room for once,” she said. The two girls waved back smiling at her little joke, “hello poppy, where are the boys at?” Jane asked, deeply expecting to see Garreth. They discussed about how the boys were trying to find dates during their free period, as heart breaking as it was to hear that news, Jane brushed off the idea of Garreth asking another girl to the ball. “Oh, sounds like boy stuff honestly,” Jane said.

Natsai, gryffindors strongest gal, had popped up behind Leila hoping to invest in their conversation with them as well. “What are you gals talking about?” Natsai asked, the three girls turned around to face her. Leila sighed, “we’re talking about dates to the ball, got any idea who you’re going with, Nat?” Natsai shook her head slowly, trying to think if she does but just forgot. “No.. I don’t think I do, have you all gotten one?”

Poppy shook her head no, Jane looked away for a quick moment before answering. “I have a person in mind, but it’s a bit risky to ask,” she muttered.

“She likes Garreth Weasley.”

Jane opened her eyes slightly as she watched her best friend answer for her, hitting her in the back of the head following with a little “ow” from her.

Poppy and Natsai both gasped before answering at the same time, “YOU LIKE GARRETH WEASLEY?”

Jane rushed to shush them up in a hurry, afraid someone around them might hear and spread rumors.

The two girls looked at her in shock but with excitement. Jane groaned and replied back, “yes, I do, but let’s not say anything okay?” The two girls smiled n nodded their heads, Poppy was the one to ask first, “so, what specific thing about Weasley interests you?”

“I think.. I know, It’s definitely his hair and funny charms. His curly, ginger hair is everything to me, ugh although it is cringy to say,” Jane replied, squinting and scrunching her nose as the cringiness within that message. Natsai replied with an “aww” before they all discussed more about Garreth Weasley, specifically Jane.

Leila was occupied in talking with her Slytherin friend, Imelda Reyes. “Soo, shes got eyes on Weasley huh?” Reyes implied, she smirked and crossed her arms before getting a reply out of Leila.

“Seems so, why?” She asked, as if Imelda had something peculiar up her sleeve. Imelda signaled her to come closer, indicating to her that she has something to whisper inside her ear. Leila followed, as she was astound by the words she heard from Imelda, her expression showed emotions of excitement, shock, and many more positive faces.

It was now time for Potions class, Jane decided to meet up with Leila this time for class, why? She has no clue. Maybe shes just utterly terrified of seeing her crush when she walks in.

The girly like voice screaming, “i’m here!” Right across the hallway threw off her emotional wreckage. She turned around to look at the fifth year infront of her annoyingly, “why are you always so late to your classes,” she asked. Until she looked behind the girl, noticing a boy dressed in his Slytherin attire.

Leila rubbed the back of her head, nervously chuckling. “My my, are you not happy to see me at all Jane?” Sebastian inquired, chuckling away at his joke. Jane rolled her eyes before stepping through the door to class, hoping that he would catch her attention instead of a certain Slytherin and Ravenclaw.

Leila and Sebastian followed up after her, “perhaps she is not,” He said, laughing his way off to his seat with Leila.

“Well look who we have here, if it isn’t Mrs. Flores!” The certain redhead giggled, Jane sat down in the seat next to him like always, she looked up at him in confusion, “Mrs?”

Weasley grinned, “Isn’t it obvious? Of course we’re to be betrothed sooner or later,” he said, jokingly, as he nudged her in the shoulder repeatedly. Jane followed up with a chuckle as she was always use to his flirtatious jokes, though, something seemed odd about this one.

Professor Sharp entered the room after a good 5 minutes, as he was always late to his classes. This time, Garreth tried brewing a thunder-brew potion once more, although the last time that happened it was something.. pretty unexpected.

Jane couldn’t help but admire the peaceful tension between the two, but at the same time wondered if something was wrong. She usually knows him as the talkative, cheerful redheaded Gryffindor, he certainly did not seem like one today. Garreth seemed a bit too quiet today, as if he had something bothering him on his mind, she couldn’t help but to worry. Though, as she was about to ask him a question, he beat her to it first.

“Hey, Jane,” He spoke, looking up at her while waiting for his potion to brew. She replied with a “hmm?” Still looking down at her cauldron.

“I heard from people that you were looking for a date to the Yule Ball next week.” He mumbled, Jane gasped a little before giving herself some time to answer. The feeling of his words tied knots in her stomach, a bit scared of the outcome if she were to say either or.

She looked up at him from her cauldron, now making complete eye contact. “Yes, why do you ask Garreth,” she stated.

He coughed a bit to clear up his throat, “I just thought you’d, you know, would care to go with someone like me?” He suggested, heavy on the “me” part. Jane could feel her blood rushing up to her cheeks as they flowed with a pretty red color, that was clearly obvious to his eyes as he chuckled.

“What do you mean, someone like you?” She asked, trying to get more words out of him before answering with her whole heart. In which, it worked like a charm.

“Listen, I dont care wether you fancy someone else or not, but as this moment is very important to me, I only forbid myself to take you.”

Garreth was rambling on about his feelings, “I only want to go with you, no other woman peeks my interest as much as you do.” He added.

She felt no longer knots in her stomach, but indeed, butterflies. Jane was a little too shocked to answer, filled with joy but certainly too surprised. She has been dreaming of this moment ever since the fifth year of when they met in Hogsmeade, as he offered in buying a butterbeer for her and taking her on a tour throughout the school. Something romantic about him sparked her that day, a day she’ll never forget.

She swallowed a bit of saliva that was forming inside her mouth from keeping it shut for too long, it took her some time to speak as Garreth was getting a bit worried. Doubting himself and thinking he was right to not ask you out to the Ball.

Jane smiled, grabbing both his hands before answering, “I would love it if you were also the one who’d take me to the ball, Garreth.”

The face that was filled with doubt and sorrow instantly lit up as he heard the words he wished and needed. He squeezed both her hands in joy, “REALLY? YOU’D REALLY GO WITH ME?” He happily questioned, needing a bit of reassurance and affirmation before bursting into happy tears.

“Really! Or perhaps I should take back my answer instead.. hmm?” Jane replied jokingly, giggling a bit as well before admiring the redhead’s expression to her words. He jumped delightfully before opening his arms and going in for a warm hug.

Jane was a bit surprised, but not that she was complaining. The hug was indeed warm, full of joy, care, satisfaction, but mostly, she enjoyed it due to the boy whom she had fancied for about 2 years, had her wrapped around his little finger.

[cheolhub]

NO CAUSE IM SUCH A SUCKER FOR WHEN THEY'RE MEAN

but imagine the aftermath, like you would not know how to fucking act after that and it throws you off your game and he wins the next race and !!!

you're so mad. you're so angry he got to your head that much. and he's so fucking smug about it. but of course, it can only go one way at this point, and at the end of the day you end up in his bed again bc what else are you even supposed to do?

AND HE'D BE SO MEAN ABT IT, all "can't believe you're here begging for my cock again. shouldn't you be out training? or are you just that much of a cockhungry slut?"

and it continues like that. it doesn't even matter who wins or who loses anymore, bc the outcome is the same anyways - you crying on his cock, you on your knees for him, you taking whatever he wants to give you. and you know that if this came out it could ruin your career, but you just can't stop.

(okay but spinning off of that earlier ask. what if you're in a crash, maybe it's one if the last races of the season, and he's THE FIRST ONE THERE bc holy shit he got so worried. like he always worries when someone crashes bc this shit is dangerous, but it's different now, and he doesn't quite want to think about what it means yet. (he's a little less mean the next time, not bc he's gotten soft or anything, he swears)) - ☁️

UR SUCH A FUCKING MENACE LIKE IM GONNA RIP MY HAIR OUT. it’s 1 am so that means this is going to be hot shit (the bad kind 😹) ok but seriously if i dont make sense or it reads bad, im so sorry, ive written like 4k words today and my brains fuzzy

wonwoo is so cruel. he’s so fucking cruel. he’s insulting you while fucking you stupid, rambling on and on about how you’re always crawling back into his bed like a shameless loser. about how you have no self-respect whatsoever. about how you should be out training even though you’re going to lose again. and again. and again.

and you’re just taking it because, fuck him, but he makes you feel so good. he bullies his cock into you and makes you cum countless times and it’s just too fucking good. you’re in this toxic… relationship? would you even call it that? you’re in this toxic situationship and you have no idea how to get out of it… or if you even want out of it.

and, cloudnon, you’re 100% right. it doesn’t matter who wins or loses.

if he wins, he’s fucking you as if he were some type of god with the cockiest smirk on his face. if you wanna cum, you have to beg and tell him how much of a loser you are. (woah humiliation kink popped out again my bad)

if you win, he’d be so fucking pissed. so so angry and he’s taking it out on you, immediately adjusting that cocky attitude of yours. makes you cum over and over till your just in tears babbling his name and incoherent pleas.

no matter what, he’s always going to have you begging for more bc you’re just his a pretty, cockhungry slut.

[oh my god i alrdy know that didnt make any fucking sense, BUT WAIT BC UR LIL SPIN OFF THING IS KINDA CUTE ☺️ ill start with a poorly written post-crash bed scene]

you’re fine. you’ve told him several times, but he keeps asking and it’s starting to get on your nerves. but, like, it’s also starting to freak you out a bit. he hasn’t said anything mean to you and the way he handles you is kind of… soft? something you’re not used to at all when you’re under him like this

he’s still a bit freaked out if he’s being honest. you could’ve been really hurt… and it’s morbid… but you could’ve fucking died and he doesnt think he’d be able to stand it if anything really bad happened to you.

he has no idea what he’s feeling right now. he doesn’t want to know. god forbid he have a crush on the his top competitor and god forbid you don’t feel the same way.

you grow impatient with his gentle touches bc you’re dying to have him manhandle you like he usually does, so you sigh out. “wonwoo, told you i’m fine. just a few cuts and bruises. stop worrying so much. you won’t break me.”

he looks at you nervously and your heart squeezes a bit… he’s kinda cute when he’s not being a complete dick. “you sure?”

“i’m sure.”

“i’ll be nicer today,” he mutters, “y’know, since you obviously don’t know how to ride.”

there he is.

you smirk, “oh? why don’t you show me how then?”

he smirks, voice low when he says, “it’d be my pleasure.”

[and-its-with-one-l-bitch]

i would like to know . about frankie. particularly their relationships w the other saints!!! all i know about them is Theyre Insane and im very interested in how they get along (or dont get along) with the saints. either sr1 or the sr2 liuetenants im not sure at what point frankie joins them

HIIII finally answering this because I'm in Frankie mode. Under a read more for convenience.

So, as you know, I've been obsessing over SR1 Frankie all week, so now's the perfect time to answer this.

The main thing about Frankie is that their identity is made up. That's not the "real" Frankie. We know their surname, Delacruz, but that's about it. We know they're probably from Stilwater, but depending on who they're telling the story to, this changes wildly. They told Troy they're from Cuba, and they told Julius they're from a Russian circus. Neither answer is true. The most common answer is that they just grew up near what would become the trailer park district, and got into some dark shit when a low-budget circus rolled through town. Hence, the nickname, "François", which just became "Frankie". Mostly, they just enjoy lying.

Most of the crew throughout SR1 and SR2 are cautious around Frankie, but Frankie's more or less harmless around the people they consider their friends. More or less. Johnny thinks "they're a fuckin' riot" and is over the moon to have someone around who is just as eager to bust heads as him. Dex - and Troy particularly - feel a little uneasy around Frankie, but Dex gets over this in time. Troy doesn't. Frankie is uniquely enamoured with Lin, and with annoying Lin. This starts off with Frankie being as annoying and smug as possible around Lin, until she either smacks them upside the head or caves to their unending attempts to hit on her. Sometimes both. In my Frankie canon, Lin definitely survives; Frankie doesn't care about their own wellbeing, what's some underwater heroics between lesbians, anyway?

By SR2, Frankie's a little different. Worse, maybe. They've taken to leaning into the whole "François the mime" thing, painting their face and dressing in striped clothes. Of course people think Frankie's weird, but nobody really wants to say that to their face. Unlike most mimes, though, you couldn't pay Frankie to shut the fuck up. They're still smug and arrogant and cracking jokes in inappropriate situations, but there's an edge that wasn't there before the coma. SR2 Frankie really wants to show Julius a demonstration of what happens to people who betray their crew, and Frankie's struggling with getting dumped by Lin. After escaping death at the hands of the Rollerz, Lin's at her limit, and Frankie getting blown to shit? Well, no reason for her to stick around the gang life. It's five years later and Lin's laying low, doesn't want shit to do with the Saints. Frankie's not so good at accepting that.

As for the SR2 crew, I think there's a mixture of camaraderie and tentative respect for Frankie's authority. They run the gang with Shaggy, and both of them are high on some combination of experimental drugs most of the time. Shaundi's cool with it, maybe she helps supply sometimes, and maybe she parties with them; Pierce likes to give them their space; Johnny loves them. If the most out-of-their-mind crackhead you'd ever met told you they ran a prolific street gang, would you call them out on their behavior? Yeah.

Overall, Frankie's not a lover, they're a fighter, but they're a fighter who's a lover, but mostly they're a fighter. Maybe mostly a biter. They should be on a leash.

[clubsmarties]

—

"They're very easy to win over. The only thing that would give you trouble is if you happen to cause me any sort of harm." The smile told her everything from how he was only kidding and how his sisters would like her. She'd pretty much secure being liked by Emma. "Hmm. I like that. It wouldn't be food or homework. Okay, if I win then you let me take you out dancing without knowing any other details."

He raised his hands in slight defense and laughed. "That's more than I can do so you're already better than I am. Do you make the grilled cheese really melty? You're conquering chicken noodle soup, see I was right about master chef."

"Right? Everyone passed her by and so I felt like if I did that I'd be an asshole. Final stop was going to be California. The Bay Area specifically. It's cold and I would be irritated with the heat. But somehow that translated to Texas." A small amused laugh escaped him at that. "Dont think it was all bad now." His smile couldn't be helped as he nodded. "That is the actual best. Watered down chocolate tastes like it has no flavor and it is so disappointing. I think I got really sad that first time. Then Stella at the diner had me control the machine. That's how come I'm in charge of the coffee machine."

He pushed his nose against hers and smirked as he pulled her bottom lip between his teeth and sucked on it. If it weren't for her mischievous smile he would have thought that this wasn't a good idea. He gave her a small little peck before he rearranged himself and moved over to sit in front of her. Cupping her face he kissed her again, this time letting one hand drop and roam down her sides.

The hoodie being a little big on her made it easy to land his hand underneath to touch her warm skin. As he let his hand explore he found the unexpected, the hoodie was covering a lot more than he realized. He let out an appreciative sound at the softness her skin provided the palm of his hand. It was times like this that he was grateful he didn't have a roommate. No one that could come in and interrupt their slow getting to know each other. Smirking against her lip at the way her body responded to him made him feel smug. He'd been told how this could go but words didn't give the feeling justice. The feeling of making someone else feel safe enough to let go and let them see the inner most vulnerable parts of themselves.

"Really? You are giving me the key to woo your sisters, I'm liking my chances," she was beaming with happiness. Though, the idea of meeting any family did frighten her. She kept that to herself for now. "Um, fair enough. If they're not embarrassing, then hm, I'll owe you something. Your choice."

"Don't feed my ego," she warned as a smile peeked through. "Three things, yep. I can kinda make grilled cheese, scrambled eggs, and chicken noodle soup. That last one is tough," she joked, though it had been a mission to learn. Though, now she made a mental note to check in with her dad, to see when they could visit. Or if he'd be away on some trip, maybe they could go then. Just to not scare Eli with the, meeting her parents conversation.

"Woah," she breathed out at the twist and turns that brought him here. "Sounds like I may need to be thanking this lady and her luggage." Or, more accurately, she should be thanking him for his kindness and willingness to help a stranger. That's what led him here, after all. "That is definitely some way to land in Texas. So, you've been at the diner for quite some time, wow. If not Texas, what was the final stop then?" Only curious to know where he would've ended up if he had made his connecting flight. "Us two with the pretty eyes, lucky us." Laurel laughter burst through her lips, shaking her head as he agreed with her. "With marshmallows? Now, that sounds good. Watered down sounds like a crime. Well, the moment there's a chill in the air, I'll be buying hot chocolate with the marshmallows." That piqued her curiosity, what kind of absurd questions were they asking his sisters? "You just want me to ask, and prove that you don't share, huh? I'll indulge you though. It'll be my first question to your sisters."

Laurel's heart was beating in complete anticipation as his fingertips grazed her lips. Meeting his green eyes was a rush of excitement, subconsciously leaning in to meet his lips. It was a bit of an odd angle, but she didn't mind it at all. It was a slow warmth spreading throughout her, her heart pounding in her chest as she leaned in just a bit more, trying to get a taste of his lips. Trying to learn everything that had not yet been asked between them. She had loved the two kisses they had share up until now, but this one was special. It was gentle and slow, nothing rushing or interrupting them. Frankly, she could've stayed here all evening. "I can confirm that I'm a fan of the slow make out." A breathy laugh followed his comment, nudging him gently with her nose. "Is there an option for all of the above, including that unspoken third option?" Because that option sounded really good right about now. "The order of the activities doesn't really matter either," she mumbled, and that might've been interpreted for shyness, if her mischievous smile was not betraying her.