#and now you’re here throwing me under the fucking bus

[kynrki]

everyone can fucking die for all i care.

[jewelleria]

I don’t usually talk about politics on here, if ever. But it’s been almost six months since the conflict in the Middle East flared up again, and I’m finally ready to start. Here are some of my thoughts.

I say ‘flared up’ because this has happened before and it’ll happen again. Because, even though what's currently going on is absolutely unprecedented, those of us who live in this part of the world are used to it. Let that sink in: we are used to this. And we shouldn’t have to be. 

But I use that term for another reason: I don't want to accidentally call it the wrong thing lest I come under fire for being a genocidal maniac or a terrorist or a propaganda machine, etc., etc.—so let’s just call it ‘the war’ or ‘the conflict.’ Because that’s what it is. Doesn’t matter which side you’re on, who you love, or who you hate. 

This post will, in all likelihood, sit in my drafts forever. If it does get posted, it certainly won’t be on my main, because I'm scared of being harassed (spoiler: she posted it on her main). I hate admitting that, but honestly? I’m fucking terrified. 

I also feel like in order for anything I say on here (i.e. the hellscape of the internet) to be taken seriously, I have to somehow prove that a) I’m “educated” enough to talk about the conflict, and b) that my opinion lines up with what has been deemed the correct one. So, tedious and unnecessary though it is, I will tell you about my experience, because I have a feeling most of the people reading this post are not nearly as close to what’s happening as I am.

How do I explain where I live without actually explaining where I live? How do I say “I live in the Red Zone of international conflicts” without saying what I actually think? How do I convey the fear that grips me when I try to decide between saying “I live in Palestine” and “I live in Israel”? I don't really know. But I do know that names are important. I also know that, due to the various clickbaity monikers ascribed to the conflict, it would probably just be easier to point to a map. 

I haven't always lived in the Middle East. I've lived in various places along America’s east coast, and traveled all over the world. But in short, I now live somewhere inside the crudely-drawn purple circle. 

If you know anything about these borders you probably blanched a bit in sympathy, or maybe condolence. But in truth, it’s a shockingly normal existence. I don't feel like I've lived through the shifting of international relations or a war or anything. I just kind of feel like I did when COVID hit, that dull sameness as I wondered if this would be the only world-altering event to shape my life, or if there would be more. 

I've been told that, in order for my brain to process all the horrific details of the past six months, there needs to be some element of cognitive dissonance—that falling into a sort of dissociative mindset is the only way to not go insane under the weight of it all. I think in some ways that’s true. I have been terrifyingly close to bus stop shootings when my commute wasn’t over; I have felt my apartment building shake with the reverberations of a missile strike; I have spent hours in underground shelters waiting for air raid sirens to stop. 

But. I have also gone grocery shopping, and skipped class, and stayed up too late watching TV, and fed the cats on the street corner, and cried over a boy, and got myself AirPods just because, and taken out the trash, and done laundry on a delicate cycle, and bought overpriced lattes one too many days a week. I have looked at pretty things and taken out my phone because, despite it all, I still think that life is too short not to freeze the small moments. 

So I'd say, all things considered, I live an incredibly privileged life—compared, of course, to those suffering in Gaza—one filled with sunsets and over-sweetened knafeh and every different color of sand. One that allows me to throw myself into a fandom-induced hyperfixation (or, alternatively, escape method) as I sit on the couch and crack open my laptop to write the next chapter of the fic I'm working on. 

But there are bits of not-normalness that wheedle their way through the cracks. I pretend these moments are avoidable, even if they’re not. 

They look like this: reading the news and seeing another idiotic, careless choice on Netanyahu’s part and groaning into my morning coffee. Watching Palestinian and Jewish children’s needless suffering posted on Instagram reels and feeling helpless. Opening my Tumblr DMs to find a message telling me to exterminate myself for reblogging a post that only seems like it’s about the war if you squint and tilt your head sideways. 

These moments look like all the tiny ways I am reminded that I'm living in a post-October seventh world, where hearing a car backfire makes me jump out of my skin and the sound of a suitcase on pavement makes me look up at the sky and search for the war planes. They look like the heavy grief that is, and also isn’t, mine. 

Here's the thing, though. I know you’re wondering when the ball will drop and my true opinion will be revealed. I know you’re waiting for me to reveal what demographic I'm a part of so that you, dear reader, can neatly slap a label on my head and sort me into some oversimplified category that lets you continue to think you understand this war. 

No one wants to sit and ruminate on the difficult questions, the ones that make you wonder if maybe you’ve been tinkered with by the propaganda machine, if you might need to go back on what you’ve said or change your mind. We all strive for our perception of complicated issues to be a comfortable one.

But I know that no matter what I do, there will always be assumptions. So, while I shudder to reveal this information online, I think that maybe my most significant contribution to this meta-discussion spanning every facet of the internet is this: 

I am a Jew. 

Or, alternatively, I am: Jewish, יהודית, يَهُودِيٌّ, etc. Point is, I come from Jews. And, like any given person, I am a product of generation after generation of love. 

I'm not going to take time to explain my heritage to you, or to prove that before all the expulsions and pogroms, there was an origin point. If you don’t believe that, perhaps it’s less of a factual problem and more of an ‘I don’t give weight to the beliefs of indigenous people’ problem. But, in case you want to spend time uselessly refuting this tiny point in a larger argument, you can inspect the photos below (it’s just a small chunk of my DNA test results). Alternatively, you can remember that interrogating someone in an attempt to make their indigeneity match your arbitrary criteria is generally not seen as good manners. 

Now, let’s go back to thathateful message (read: poorly disguised death threat) I received in my Tumblr DMs. I think it was like two or three weeks ago. I had recently gained a new follower whose blog’s primary focus was the fandom I contribute to, so I followed them back. I saw in my notes that they were going through my posts and liking them—as one does when gaining a new mutual. Yippee! 

Then they sent me this: 

I tried to explain that hate speech is not a way to go about participating in political discourse, but the person had already blocked me immediately after sending that message. Then, assured by the fact that I surely would never see them complaining about me on their blog (because, as I said, they blocked me), they posted a shouting rant accusing me of sympathizing with colonizing settlers and declaring me a “racist Zionist fuck.” Oh, the wonders of incognito tabs.

Where this person drew these conclusions after reading my (reblogged) post about antisemitism…. I'm not actually sure. But I greatly sympathize with them, and hope that they weren’t too personally offended by my desire to not die. 

For a while I contemplated this experience in my righteous anger, and tried to figure out a way to message this person. I wanted to explain that a) seeing a post about being Jewish and choosing to harass the creator about Israel is literally the definition of antisemitism and b) that sending a hateful DM and refusing to be held accountable is just childish and immature. But I gave up soon after—because, honestly, I knew it wasn’t worth my effort or energy. And I knew that I wouldn't be able to change their mind. 

But I still remember staring at that rather unfortunate meme, accompanied by an all-caps message demanding for me to Free Palestine, and thinking: the post didn’t even have any buzzwords. I remember the swoop of dread and guilt and fear. I remember wondering why this kind of antisemitism felt worse, in that moment, than the kind that leaves bodies in its wake. 

I remember thinking, I don’t have the power to free anyone.

I remember thinking, I’m so fucking tired. 

And before you tell me that this conflict isn’t about religion—let me ask you some questions. Why is it that Israel is even called Israel? (Here’s why.) Why do Jews even want it? (Here’s why.) But also, if you actually read the charters of Islamist terrorist organizations like ISIS, Hamas, and Hezbollah (among others), they equate the modern state of Israel with the Jewish people, and they use the two entities interchangeably. So of course this conflict is religious. It’s never been anything but that.

But I do wonder, when faced with those who deny this fact: how do I prove, through an endless slew of what-about-isms and victim blaming, that I too am hurting? How do I show that empathy is dialectical, that I can care deeply for Palestinians and Gazans while also grieving my own people? 

There's this thing that humans do, when we’re frustrated about politics and need to howl our opinions about it into the void until we feel better. We find like-minded souls, usually our friends and neighbors, and fret about the state of the world to each other until we’ve gone around in a satisfactory amount of circles. But these conversations never truly accomplish anything. They’re just a substitute, a stand-in catharsis, for what we really wish we could do: find someone who embodies the spirit of every Jew-hating internet troll, every ignorant justifier of terrorism, and scream ourselves hoarse at them until we change their mind.

But, of course, minds cannot be changed when they are determined to live in a state of irrational dislike. In Judaism, this way of thinking has a name: שנאת חינם (sinat hinam), or baseless hatred. It's a parasite with no definite cure, and it makes people bend over backwards to justify things like the massacre on October seventh, simply because the blame always needs to be placed on the Jews. 

So when a Jew is faced with this unsolvable problem, there is only one response to be had, only one feeling to be felt: anger. And we are angry. Carrying around rage with nowhere to put it is exhausting. It's like a weight at the base of our neck that pushes down on our spine, bending it until we will inevitably snap under the pressure. I’m still waiting to break, even now.

I wish I could explain to someone who needs to hear it that terrorism against Israelis happens every single day here, and that we are never more than one degree of separation away from the brutal slaughter of a friend, lover, parent, sibling. I wish it would be enough to say that the majority of Israelis (which includes Arab-Israeli citizens who have the exact same rights as Jewish-Israelis) wish for peace every day without ever having seen what it looks like. 

I wish I could show the world that Israel was founded as a socialist state, that it was built on communal values and born from a cluster of kibbutzim (small farming communities based on collective responsibility), and that what it is now isn’t what its people stand for. 

I wish the world could open their eyes to what we Israelis have seen since the beginning: that Hamas is the enemy, Hamas is the one starving Palestinians and denying them aid, Hamas is the one who keeps rejecting ceasefire terms and denying their citizens basic human rights. Hamas is the governing body of Gaza, not Israel. Hamas is responsible for the wellbeing of the Palestinian people. And Hamas are the ones who are more determined to murder Jews—over and over and over again, in the most animalistic ways possible—than to look inwards and see the suffering they’ve inflicted on their own people. I wish it was easier to see that.

But the wishing, the asking how can people be so blind, is never enough. I can never just say, I promise I don't want war. 

When I bear witness to this baseless hatred, I think of the victims of October seventh. I think of the women and girls who were raped and then murdered, forever unable to tell their stories. I think of the hostages, trapped underneath Gaza in dark tunnels, wondering if anyone will come for them. I think of Ori Ansbacher, of Ezra Schwartz, of Eyal, Gilad, and Naftali, of Lucy, Rina, and Maia Dee, of the Paley boys, of Ari Fuld and of Nachshon Wachsman. I think of all the innocent blood spilled because of terror-fueled hatred and the virus of antisemitism. I think of all the thousands of people who were brutally murdered in Israel, Jews and Muslims and Christians and humans, who will never see peace.

My ties to this land are knotted a thousand times over. Even when I leave, a part of me is left behind, waiting for me to claim it when I return. But when I see the grit it takes to live through this pain, when I see the suffering that paints the world the color of blood, I look to the heavens and I wonder why. 

I ask God: is it worth all this? He doesn't answer. So I am the one, in the end, to answer my own question. I say, it has to be. 

Feel free to send any genuine, respectful, and clarifying questions you may have to my inbox!

EDIT: just coming on here to say that I'm really touched & grateful for the love on this post. When I wrote it, I felt hopeless; I logged off of Tumblr for Shabbat, dreading the moment I would turn off my phone to find more hate in my inbox. Granted, I did find some, and responding to it was exhausting, but it wasn’t all hate. I read every kind reblog and comment, and the love was so much louder. Thank you, thank you, thank you. 🤍

Source Reading

The Whispered in Gaza Project by The Center for Peace Communications

Why Jews Cannot Stop Shaking Right Now by Dara Horn

Hamas Kidnapped My Father for Refusing to Be Their Puppet by Ala Mohammed Mushtaha

I Hope Someone Somewhere Is Being Kind to My Boy by Rachel Goldberg

The Struggle for Black Freedom Has Nothing to Do with Israel by Coleman Hughes

Israel Can Defend Itself and Uphold Its Values by The New York Times Editorial Board

There Is a Jewish Hope for Palestinian Liberation. It Must Survive by Peter Beinart

The Long Wait of the Hostages’ Families by Ruth Margalit

“By Any Means Necessary”: Hamas, Iran, and the Left by Armin Navabi

When People Tell You Who They Are, Believe Them by Bari Weiss

Hunger in Gaza: Blame Hamas, Not Israel by Yvette Miller

Benjamin Netanyahu Is Israel’s Worst Prime Minister Ever by Anshel Pfeffer

What Palestinians Really Think of Hamas by Amaney A. Jamal and Michael Robbins

The Decolonization Narrative Is Dangerous and False by Simon Sebag Montefiore

Understanding Hamas’s Genocidal Ideology by Bruce Hoffman

The Wisdom of Hamas by Matti Friedman

How the UN Discriminates Against Israel by Dina Rovner

This Muslim Israeli Woman Is the Future of the Middle East by The Free Press

Why Are Feminists Silent on Rape and Murder? by Bari Weiss

[lemonlover1110]

𝐂𝐡𝐚𝐧𝐠𝐞𝐬

Satoru Gojo

[Chapter 16] Justifications

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Pairing: Satoru Gojo x f!Reader

Discord +18 - Twitter - Ko-Fi

Mrs. Gojo’s first reaction to finding her son in the hospital room isn’t one of worry– Rather, she’s curious. She wonders if you told him; she doubts you’re dumb enough to actually tell him, but he got here somehow. Instead of wondering how he found out, she should worry about how she’ll explain everything to her son. She can’t just throw you under the bus… Well, she can but it wouldn’t be right for her to do so.

Satoru is sitting down, his hands on his knees as he looks around the room. He contemplates everything. He questions every single relationship that he has. Shoko knew, and his mother, but who else? How many people are betraying him? How many people know the fact that he has a son? 

The man is nauseous at the mere thought that they faced him as if they weren’t hiding something that could turn Satoru’s life upside down. He hears his mother’s heels as she walks towards him but he can’t bring himself to look up at her. He’s never had a close bond with his mother, and at times he’s hated her presence; but nothing compares to now. Satoru has never hated being her son until now. 

“Satoru.” She doesn’t try to soften her voice when she talks to him. She probably should. She feels the hatred that radiates off her son, and she knows that maybe she should console him. She’s mostly at fault for how things played out. “How did you end up here?”

“That’s what you say.” His voice breaks and he takes a deep breath to compose himself. He won’t start crying in front of his mother, she doesn’t have to know how heartbroken he is. She should have an idea though because it’s no easy feat. “You knew about my son, you hid him from me on purpose, you let me find out on my own and your response is that.”

She stays quiet. Satoru will continue speaking and she won’t interrupt until he lets it all out. “I always knew you weren’t a star mother, but this? You’re the worst mother I’ve come across. You hid my son from me, and for what? Because you didn’t want your ideal plans to go to the trash?”

“You’re almost twenty-seven and you act like a child. You wouldn’t have been able to step up to the role. I did what was best for you, and for Ren and his mother.” She argues and he feels his blood boil. He’s never been so mad in his life.

“I wouldn’t have been like you. I wouldn’t have thrown my son to the help and let them raise him. I’m nothing like you, I would’ve been able to step up to the role. Ren would’ve actually felt me being present, and I would’ve loved him as much as I possibly could.” Satoru’s nails dig into the fabric of his pants. “No one is ready to be a parent. You learn along the way. I would’ve and am going to try my best, the same way you should’ve.”

“If it weren’t for me, you wouldn’t have your precious job title, Satoru. Watch how you talk to me.” She warns him, ignoring the guilt that runs through her veins. She focuses more on the fact that her son gives her attitude. 

“This is what you wanted! You didn’t tell me because you knew I’d give up everything for him. I knew you were fucked up but to this extent? You’re a wretched woman, I’m ashamed to call you my mother.” Satoru raises his voice, and silence follows. She doesn’t know how to answer. Satoru clears his throat, “For how long have you known? For how long have you known I have a son?”

“Almost a year.” She confesses, and maybe Satoru would’ve easily let it slide if it was something more recent. Well, she hired you for a reason, she’s known for as long as you’ve been working with her. Satoru takes a deep breath, trying his best to hold back the tears that fill up his eyes. 

“Shoko knows. She told me. Who else knows?” He asks, speaking slowly to contain his feelings. She shrugs, she doesn’t know who else knows. 

“I have no idea. I didn’t know Shoko knew.” She responds, walking over to stand next to Satoru. He glares at her, standing up. He can’t stand to breathe the same air as her for another moment. She watches him walk away and she asks, “What are you doing? Now is not the time to throw a tantrum.”

“A tantrum?! You hid my son from me and you’re calling this a tantrum?!” He yells. “You’ve known about my son for a year, you asked for him to be kept from me, and you’re calling this a tantrum? You’re fucking unbelievable. This is all your fault. You’ve been set on making me miserable ever since I was born.”

“Calm down, Satoru.” She says, and Satoru has to take another deep breath. He doesn’t even know how to respond to her. How dare she even suggest that? She must be out of her damn mind– No, she’s evil. He’s convinced she’s fucking evil.

“I’ll never forgive you for this. This is so fucked up, even for you.” Satoru steps out of the room. He needs a breath of fresh air, and he needs to take it all in. Gather his thoughts. 

He’s a father. He’s been one for the past four years. How does he handle it all? His mother betrayed him in the worst possible way. You betrayed him the worst possible way. But Satoru can somewhat understand why you stayed quiet. Not her though. Both reasons are selfish, but her selfishness is pure evil. 

“Satoru.” He hears your mother, and he stops walking. The tears that he’s been holding back finally slip out, and he wipes them away as your mother walks to him. Her hand goes to his arm and she squeezes it as a form of reassurance. “Let’s go grab a coffee, there’s a coffee shop nearby that’s open.”

“Yeah.” He tries to talk normally, and she gently smiles at him. They walk outside and Satoru follows your mother’s lead to the coffee shop. They walk in silence, and when they get there, Satoru pays for coffee for the both of them.

Once the coffee is in their hands, they sit in silence at a table. They came here to talk, yet Satoru is not going to spark up the conversation– At least Satoru assumes that they came here to talk. Your mother clears her throat, “I hope you can forgive my daughter for this… At the very least see her point of view.”

“I’ll try at the very least… I just thought she would try to tell me. I’m disappointed… and feel betrayed.” Satoru confides. He’s always felt like he could talk to your mother, she’s always been someone he can trust. He never went to his own mother for help, instead he went to yours. “I would’ve done anything for Ren, she knows I’ve always wanted to have a kid.”

“I remember the day my little girl called crying, telling me she was pregnant. Her boyfriend just broke up with her and she didn’t know how to tell him. You were out of town, your mother fired me– I told my daughter I quit, but it wasn’t that. Your mother didn’t want me around, she started hating me the moment my daughter started to date you,” Your mother begins and Satoru listens attentively. 

“She tried to tell you, Satoru. You changed your number. You completely cut her off. She went to your house, and guess what your mother said to my pregnant daughter?”

“That I got married.” Satoru mutters, looking away since he’s too ashamed to look her in the eye. 

“And you know the damage that caused? She cried for weeks, but she managed to move on. She couldn’t dwell on you forever because she had a son to be responsible for. Maybe she should’ve told you when she saw you, but I understand she didn’t need you anymore.” 

“I didn’t get married because–” Satoru begins but your mother cuts him off. She doesn’t want to hear any justifications, she really doesn’t see any response that will make her feelings change.

“I don’t care why the hell you got married. I was rooting for you, Satoru. I was rooting for the two of you, but you showed me that you’re just like your selfish entitled family. You made me change my mind, you’re the last person I want near my daughter and my grandson.” Her words sting more than anyone’s because the woman that sits across from him practically raised him. “But I guess I have no other option. You are Ren’s father.”

“I’m sorry.” He murmurs, causing her brows to raise.

“I’m not the one you should be apologizing to.” She answers before standing up. Satoru watches as she walks away, biting his quivering bottom lip. He shuts his eyes, trying not to begin crying in front of everyone. 

He’s tired. He should probably go home and take a nap, but he promised his son he’d be there when he wakes up. So he won’t leave until Ren sees him. Satoru stands up and goes back to the hospital.

You don’t talk to each other when you’re with Ren. Ren is filled with love, from both of his parents and grandmothers. He’s never been with them all at the same time, and he’s excited to be with them all even when he isn’t feeling too well. His father seems to have a lot of questions though, but Ren likes the attention.

Ren gets to talk about his birthday (which surprises Satoru since they have the same birthday), his favorite color, his favorite show, his favorite toys, what he does when mommy is not home, what he does when mommy is home; Satoru tries to get to know all about Ren in a couple hours to make up for the past four years of his life. Satoru is overwhelmed with sadness, yet he’s never felt so happy before as he sits on an armchair, next to his baby boy. Ren holds his father’s hand, smiling when he’s never felt worse before. He’s just happy to meet the man that he’s been asking about.

Satoru spends the entire afternoon there, listening to Ren’s every request. He expected to spend the first day with his son in the hospital but not under these conditions. Regardless, Ren could be a newborn or a four-year-old, Satoru loves him either way. 

Ren yawns, and Satoru sheepishly smiles. He kisses the top of his son’s head. “How about you go to bed, buddy? You’re tired.”

“I don’t want you to go.” Ren says, and Satoru squeezes his hand. You swear you hear your heart break as you hear Ren’s words. You definitely fucked up.

“I’m not leaving, Ren. I’ll be by your side when you wake up, I promise.” Satoru assures him, and the man stays by his side until Ren finally falls asleep. Satoru doesn’t let go of Ren’s hand. You sit in silence for a moment as you try to decide what you’ll do next. Should you speak? Maybe you should… But what should you say? Maybe you should apologize, but you don’t have the guts to do it. 

“Who else knows?” Satoru whispers, not wanting to wake Ren up. He doubts that Ren will be waking up any time soon though, no matter how loud he is.

“Shoko and Suguru. And everyone that works at your house.” You answer. “I asked them not to tell, and I lied to Suguru so don’t be mad at them.”

“Did you… At least try to argue with my mother about telling me?” He hopes that you’ll say yes, so at the very least he can feel like you care about his feelings. He wants to hear that you tried a bit more. He’s filled with disappointment when you shake your head. He looks away from you, and back at Ren.

“How are you going to tell your wife?” You ask, and Satoru shrugs. That isn’t his main problem right now. Sayo can wait.

[billskeis]

ᡣ𐭩 bus shenanigans w bill

it was mid day into the summer where you and the band were on world tour, travelling from place to place as the exhausting schedules had you all working to the bone.

of course, as part of their management team, you did everything in your power to keep the band in check.

water? done. snacks? already given. towels? passed around.

not to mention, the constant words of affirmation and reassurance that everything will be okay.

you were their escape of solace in the midst of youthful chaos.

“tomtom! where’s bill? i don’t think i’ve seen him at all today,” you pout.

“hmph, little cunt must still be sleeping. you know how he gets on tour,”

that’s right. when given the day off bill will not do anything but sleep. sleep until late evening, as unhealthy as it is, you understand from a rockstar point of view.

“ah.. okay! ‘m gonna go check up on him, see if he needs anything.”

“i don’t think that’s a good idea y/n,”

“huh?”

“ask georg or gustav, whenever we bother him during his nap time he throws a fit. gets all moody nd shit,”

“i find that hard to believe,” you cross your arms.

“alright, go see for yourself,”

“y’know what i will!”

tom clicks his tongue and sips on his coke, smirking as your figure disappears from within the bus foyer to go to where bill’s bunk was.

since you made it your mission to prove tom wrong due to your stubborn persona, it was only natural that you went to go see bill. little did you know about what bill had in store for you specifically if you had woken him.

“you’re in deep trouble, y/n.”

as you open the door to the even more cramped space, you see a figure adorned in all black under the thin fabric of a blanket covering the figure.

his body moves up and down as he breaths. sound asleep eh? you make small tip-toed steps towards the bunk bed.

“billy..? you sleeping in?”

you sit down on the hard mattress and couch under to fit yourself within the tiny space. patting bill’s still body, you attempt to wake him up.

“c’monnn you gotta wake up half the day is over and we have stuff to do—”

everything happened in a flash you don’t even know how you ended up in such a position.

bill is on top of you.

THE bill fucking kaulitz has you pinned down on the bunk bed. the grip he has on each of your wrists tighten and you wince at the pain. you don’t remember bill ever being that strong but he has been working out a bit more for their comeback.

his locs fall a down to tickle your cheeks. he looks down at you, pitiful. eyelids lowered as he gazes into yours with absolute darkness and lust. you feel yourself getting hot.

what the hell did you get yourself into?

“y/n. i was napping.”

“i-i know, but i figured that we have a lot on our plate we needed our lead singer,”

“did you? or did you wanna just come here and bother me because you just wanted to see me, hm?”

“u-um..”

he leans his face closer to yours, eyes never breaking contact as he slightly grins. he enjoys how worked out and shy you’re getting as you begin to get the cold sweats, shaking a bit.

“oh you little slut, you’re in big trouble now schatzi,”

bill begins to claw at your pants to take them off, thank god you didn’t wear anything that had any buttons or zippers because he would get so frustrated he’d rip the whole thing off of you.

“bill! there’s people on the b-bus..!”

“and? you were warned,”

“s-stop, please..”

“betcha tom already warned ya, but your pretty little head thought it was okay anyway..”

with the undressing of your pants came with your panties, that hid how coated your cunt was with slick.

truthfully and shamelessly, you were turned the fuck on.

bill wastes no time as he freed his hardened cock from his pyjama pants, already leaking with precum. as he rubs the tip up and down your slit, you whine at how sensitive you were. bill knew how to rile you up sensually or not, and it drove you nuts.

“please..”

“hmmm? can’t hear you mein maus.. gonna have to speak up.”

“please..! j-just get it over with—ah!”

you yelp at the sudden thrust of bill’s cock into your entrance. already balls deep, bill cannot help but let out a wanton moan as you clasp one of your hands on his mouth.

“fuuuck you drive me nuts..”

“q-quiet..!”

he licks at your hand playfully to which you immediately pull it away.

“b-bill!?”

chuckling, a smile is plastered on bill’s face as he sheaths his cock in and out of your pussy slowly.

“mm.. you’re so warm nd tight,” he moans as he uses both hands to caress the curves of your waist, hands exploring what’s his. he needed you, and craved you.

hey, at least he’s awake now.

bracing yourself, both his hands stop all movements as they now hold onto your waist tightly. with rhythmic thrusts, bill keeps a steady pace fucking into you as if it were his last time to.

he’s in a frenzy. bill cannot stop moving his hips. the loud squelching of how wet and slick your cunt furthered this need to fuck you into an oblivion.

bill doesn’t hear your pleads to ‘s-stop!’ or ‘slow down..’ he doesn’t notice the pool of cum and squirt mixed between where the two of you were joined on the bed sheets growing. he doesn’t notice your cunt tightening by the second and how you’ve already came.

words fall onto dead ears, your now babbling for him to stop as the pressure of his cock in your cunt makes pushes you further into ecstasy.

“b-billy! a-ah! i already came! i know now not to wake you up s-so p-pleaseeepleasepleaseplease slow down—ungggghhh..!” you attempt to whisper, but they come out as quiet screams instead.

as he snaps out of it, he takes a good look down at your body on top of him, eyes widening for a second but never stilling his movements.

“f-fuck y/n.. look at you, such a whore f’me.. me, and me only..”

“i—ugh—i can’t do this anymore.. they’re gonna hear us..,”

“pft, whatever. let them hear how much of a slut you become for my cock. you deserve this.”

you just want this to end. with a pussy all sore and sensitive from how big bill is, not to mention how with each thrust bill’s cock hits your cervix balls deep, you’re bound to not walk the next day.

bill places a kiss on your mouth, tongue assaulting every nook and cranny of your mouth as you try to keep up with him.

as his mouth leaves yours, you attempt to catch a breath from not only him kissing you but how his tip hits your g spot every single time he presses his dick into you.

“h-hahh.. bill..” you wrap your arms around his neck.

“mein schatz.. these visits better become a daily thing, wanna punish you over and over again till’ you pass out from how good i fuck you.”

georg walks into the shaking tour bus with gustav after their smoke break.

tom is sitting on the couch eating his skittles and watching the small television propped up on one of the bus walls.

“didn’t you warn her?” georg asks as he hands tom back his lighter.

your moans can be heard from the opposite side of the bus. seems as though you stopped caring about the noise.

“i did, holy shit they been at it for like an hour now..”

“EW GUSTAV YOU’RE HARD.”

“shut the fuck up.” as he covers his lap with a pillow.

[7ndipity]

Now that the requests are open again 🥳🥳🥳🥳🥳

I would die for a reaction of perilla leaf situation playing out in real.

🤍much love

The Perilla Leaf Debate

Ot7 x Reader

Warnings: swearing,

A/N: I knew this would come up sooner or later. Ok, *deep breath* here we go.(This is really just me throwing the maknae line under the bus for being over dramatic, lol.) Also, if you don’t know what this is about, just search ‘ bts perilla leaf debate’ on youtube and it’ll make sense soon enough.

Masterlist

°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•

Jin: Just blocks your chopsticks with his own, matter-of-factly like “Don’t do that, they’ll think you’re flirting.” leaving you sitting there like “what!?”, but he’s already gone back to eating like nbd. He doesn’t care, but he knows other people read into it, and he doesn’t want to hear it.

Yoongi: Does not give a single fuck, just like he said during the debate. If anything, he might actually appreciate your attentiveness and willingness to help others with even the little things like this.

Hobi: I genuinely don’t think he’d care, unless you’re being like really weird/flirty about it. If anything, he’s gonna make jokes about it like “Ooh, does that mean you’re a thing now?” “Is the part where I’m supposed to get jealous?”

Namjoon: Doesn’t care at first, until maybe later on when he remembers the other’s arguments about it and starts overthinking a lil bit, but he’s so unsubtle, straight up asking you about it like “Do you find ‘friend name’ attractive?” “What?!” “Nevermind, wanna makeout?” (he’s v confusing, I pray for you)

Jimin: Doesn’t really care, unless it’s someone like Tae or Jungkook, who he knows will read into the action and likely make a sly remark later on. In that case, he will make sure to help them before you even have a chance, nearly lunging across the table in his haste to avoid any drama.

Taehyung: It really depends on his mood. For the most part, I don’t think he would really care, so long as you also do the same for him, but he can be a petty bitch sometimes, so he might try to pick a fight over it with you if you’re not careful.

Jungkook: Throws himself across the table to stop you jsdgvihshvbfjvs. No but seriously, I think he might not actually realize until it’s too late, and then he’s just sat there like 0-0”ohmygodno” the rest of the evening. Would be soo sulky abt it till you ask him what’s wrong. Just tell him it didn’t mean anything and give him kisses and he’ll be okay.

Taglist: @sopebubbles-replies @btsw1fe @this-must-be-my-tardis @whitefoxgirl @bethanysnow @coffeedepressionsoup @main-bangtansmauyeondan @captainorangegoose @k4ngelz

[mj0702]

“I want Keira” you whined for the umpteenth time in 10 minutes

“You told me you wanna play Uno 12 minutes ago” Tooney said confused and annoyed

“But you’re no challenge… you always lose… even Rach is a bigger challenge and she doesn’t even know the rules” you shot back

“It’s not me fault that you always shuffle the cards wrong!!” Ella exclaimed

“YOU shuffle the cards Muppet” you launched yourself at your friend

“Yeah well you have some kind of weird exorcist power so I automatically give you the good cards” Tooney huffed at the impact of your small frame

“I want Keira” you whined again trying to get your point across

“I GOT it the first 500 times… let me call her” Ella rolled her eyes fishing her phone off the bedside table

“She’s not answering… you know her room number?” Tooney asked a minute later

“308” you immediately answered already jumping up grabbing your crutches

“Wait…” Ella jumped up as well not even bothering putting on shoes as you were already out the door “… Lucy will kill me if there’s a hair out of place on you”

Both of you got down the corridor when Tooney heard it – an unmistakable moaned “Fuck”

“Uh… y/n… I think… I… let’s go play some darts eh… come on… this way” Ella said white as a wall pulling you a little trying to get you into the other direction

“I don’t wanna play darts… wanna sleep with Keira” you whined again totally oblivious to what’s happening

“Lucy does that already” Tooney mumbled under her breath before she spoke to you “… then… pool? I know you love swimming… Keira always says you’re a little Dolphin… come on… it’ll do your knee some good”

And she heard it again… a moan…

“Or hey… let’s go… Subways… my treat… whatever you wanna eat… I’ll pay” Tooney tried to get you as far away from the adult stuff that’s obviously happening in room 308

“What’s going on here? Why are you two standing in the corridor at 10PM discussing Subways” Tooney and you visibly flinched at Ellen Whites voice behind you

“Hi Aunt E…” you said carefully but your voice showing guilt

“Don’t “Hi Aunt E” me… answers… now” Ellen said crossing her arm

“I’m tired and want to sleep at Keiras but Tooney won’t let me” you pouted throwing your friend right under the bus

“For heavens sakes… I know you’re new but when the little Bronze wants her second mother you deliver her and go your merry way” Ellen rolled her eyes motioning for you to hobble on

“It’s… not that.. “ Tooney tries to explain without explaining

“Then why are we having this discussion at…” Ellen quickly checked her watch “… 10.09 at night in the middle of a corridor?”

“Keira is…” Ella tried to find the right word “… occupied”

“Occupied?” the Lioness captain looked at her confused

“Occupied” Tooney said looking Ellen straight in the eye trying to communicate non-verbal

“Oh… OH” Ellen finally caught on a dirty smirk appearing on her face “… go on… deliver your disabled package to its rightful owner”

“Please don’t make me… I’ll carry your bags for the rest of camp AND clean up after training” Ella whined pitifully

“Oh no… I wanna witness that… on second thought… BB wait!!!” Ellen called after you

“Oh thank God” Tooney sighed out relieved when she saw Ellen pulling out her phone

“Oy Jill… wanna come on 3rd floor and witness something hilarious?” Ellen spoke into the phone “… yep… we’re gonna wait”

“You… you… no… please” Ella whined

“Oh can’t let Jill miss that” Ellen smirked and right on clue Jill Scott came sprinting out of the Stairway

“I’m here… I’m here… what am I about to witness???” the older woman asked panting

“Dear Tooney here has to deliver your smooch to her second mother… who’s with her first mother.. they’re having adult time” Ellen broke it down to her teammate which made Jill burst out laughing

“Go on Rookie… own your place on the team… interrupt Lucys fun time” Jill pushed Ella forward who had a painful look on her face

“What took you so long?” you grumbled at Tooney when she finally made it over to you

“Just some… organizing stuff with the captain” Tooney mumbled back and as she was about to knock she heard a squeal which made her turn to Ellen and Jill with a horrified look “I’m not doing it”

“You don’t have to… Lucy is doing it already” Jill howled in laughter

“Okay Toons… you can do it… you won’t be the laughing stock of the team” Ella mumbled to herself before she quickly knocked three times

There was some swearing and shuffling behind the door before Lucy ripped the door open

“WHAT?!” the defender asked obviously pissed off

“She… ehrm… she… your sister…” Ella stammered her eyes trained on the floor her head hung low like a kicked puppy

“What?” Lucy asked her voice still harsh

“She ehrm… she wanted to… yeah… oh my god” Tooney started again lifting her head again spotting the bulge in the grey sweatpants which caused Ellen and Jill breaking down laughing

“Tooney” your sister snapped her fingers in front of her young teammates face “What. Is. It???”

“ShewantstosleepatKeirasandyoursanditriedtogethertosomewhereelsebutshedidn'twantto” Ella quickly rambled looking at the wall besides Lucys head while she could hear a defeated groan from inside

“Come here Bitsy” Keira called out

“Keira” you happily exclaimed crutching past your sister

“You understood what she said??” Lucy looked at her girlfriend confused

“I did…” Tooney heard Keira say and then some more shuffling “… Bitsy your knee”

“Thanks for delivering her…” your sister grumbled pinching the bridge of her nose when she saw how you flopped down next to a (very) naked Keira who was covered by a thin blanket

“No problem” Tooney says quickly turning around speed walking down the corridor past Ellen and Jill who where laying on the ground crying in laughter

“OH TOONEY!! ICE CREAM NORMALLY DOES THE TRICK!!” Lucy yelled after the young player

“Ice cream???!!” you perked up next to Keira and Lucy groaned defeated

[jayflrt]

𝐀 𝐒𝐓𝐎𝐍𝐄𝐑'𝐒 𝐆𝐔𝐈𝐃𝐄 𝐓𝐎 𝐒𝐓𝐀𝐑𝐁𝐔𝐂𝐊𝐒 49. #STARBUCKS_FIRST_WIN

IN A MATTER OF HOURS, YOUR COWORKER PIZZA PARTY HAD TURNED INTO A FULL-ON GATHERING. 

Not only had Heeseung and his group joined you, but the employees from Peet’s had dropped by, too. Soon, Chan and Renjun’s apartment was packed with everyone sitting in a circle and scarfing down the boxes of pizza. You thought it would just be Chaewon and Aeri coming over, but you knew things were getting serious once Jungkook, who Chaewon told you was notorious for never doing anything that required energy, showed face.

Obviously, no one expected the number of heads to double, so the pizza ran out soon after Heeseung arrived. Sunghoon took the liberty of exercising his Papa John’s employee privilege to pick up more pizza. It was even better than the pizza you all previously bought, and it was plenty for everyone to enjoy.

“Is this, like, a Starbucks-finally-burned-down party?” Wonbin asked before Aeri sharply jabbed him in the side. “Sorry, I meant an oh-no-Starbucks-burned-down party.”

“That wasn’t any better, Wonbin,” Aeri deadpanned. 

“We got our customer connection score report today,” Chan answered, finishing chewing the last of his pizza before continuing, “and we got the highest score in the district. We’ve never gotten a score over thirty before, and today our score was in the eighties.”

“Maybe they felt bad for you,” Jungkook suggested.

“Shut up.”

Heeseung turned to you, wide-eyed and breaking into a grin. “You guys got best in the district?”

“Yeah—number one! I was gonna text you about it.” Although you two were sitting next to each other, shoulder-to-shoulder, you still slid your hand into his. “We were almost tied with Starbucks in second place, so your survey really helped us.”

He squeezed your hand. “Totally worth the mermaid cosplay.”

Renjun raised his voice to say, “Riki, you should give us a speech, since you've been losing your mind over our customer connection score.” 

Minjeong, who was sitting between Jake and Aeri, let out a snicker. “Yeah, you’re the one who almost failed trigonometry over Starbucks.”

“I didn’t fail, for your information! I got a passing score,” Riki said with a huff.

Sunoo leaned back on his hands. “Yeah, a D.”

“And D’s get degrees, Sunoo,” Riki fired back before standing up. He raised up his glass of water, clearing his throat. “I was but a mere child when I first joined Starbucks. I didn’t know much about the world around me or the tribulations I’d face in my journey to becoming the best Starbucks in this district. However, today, I’ve become a man.”

(Sunghoon rubbed the back of his neck. “This kid makes me feel like I smoked a pack whenever he opens his mouth.”)

Riki continued, “I wanna thank Chan for always looking after me and being, like, my second father, even when I pissed him off every single shift, or when I used his credit card to buy LED lights, or when I made a weed frappuccino past closing hours, or when I forged his signature to get out of class, or—”

“You forged what?” Chan interjected, distraught.

“Anyway, moving on.” Riki waved off the store manager’s concerns and said, “I also wanna thank Jay for always being on my side, even when the odds were against me. And Renjun, I wanna thank you for always giving me credit when it’s due. Sunoo, you’re the best shift lead I could’ve asked for, even though I’d probably throw you under the bus for your job. Minjeong, I think you’re insane, but I appreciate that you strike fear in our hearts when necessary.” 

At that, Minjeong gave Riki a high-five, which was a little too forceful and left the kid’s hand stinging. 

Riki’s eyes then met yours and he softened his gaze. “Y/N, we all had our doubts about you when you joined, but you’re totally part of the Starbucks family now. I just really wanna thank you especially for letting me cover your shift so that I could get a bonus.”

Your smile dropped. “Man, fuck you.”

“I’m just here for the pizza,” Anton admitted, “but that was sweet… I think.”

Jay seemed to be wiping tears from the corners of his eyes. You were surprised that his eyes actually seemed to be glistening.

"That was a beautiful speech, Riki," he praised the high schooler.

“Thank you, Jay. I’ll miss you guys when I go to Harvard,” Riki finished.

“Your ass is not going to Harvard,” Jake said flatly.

The rest of the night was spent eating, talking, and watching the Harry Potter movies together. While some of the boys went outside for a smoke sesh, you and the girls discussed plans to get an apartment together for the next year. Since you lived alone, you figured it was about time you experienced living with your friends. Chaewon shared a Pinterest board with everyone to start pinning interior decoration inspiration. You and Minjeong were completely useless in that area of expertise, so you offered to help with picking out more practical things, such as kitchen and bathroom essentials.

You already knew that Heeseung was going to continue living with Sunghoon for the next year, but you were content with that. You weren’t sure you were exactly ready to move in with your boyfriend or anything, so you thought it was best that you two lived separately for the next year. The student apartments were close, anyway. 

When your boyfriend returned, his eyes slightly glossed over, you tugged on his sleeve to get his attention. He leaned down so that his ears were by your lips. 

“Ask them if they wanna watch the Mario movie,” you whispered.

He shot you a wary look, whispering back, “No! They’re gonna make fun of me. You ask them.”

“No, they’re gonna make fun of me, too.”

“Well”—his lips curled up in a smile—“guess we’ll just have to watch it on our own, then.”

After a while, everyone started to disperse, except for Jungkook, who decided to crash on the couch. It was nearly midnight, anyway, and Riki’s mother had called him about twenty times to get home soon. He was strangely at ease while everyone else was anxious for him.

Chaewon and Aeri left first, claiming that they had to go to bed early because they both had 8 a.m. classes. Wonbin and Sunghoon were discussing going to a party that one of their friends was hosting, and Jungwon and Sunoo immediately shot down the idea when they were asked to tag along

Sunghoon held his phone up to show everyone a Snapchat story of a guy in a Barney costume double-fisting two beers. “Bro, Vernon’s at the party.”

“We’re going home,” Jungwon insisted. 

“C’mon, it’s just for a few hours. We’ll bring you guys back home safe—or, like, we’ll try to. No guarantees. If your safety's compromised, blame Jake or something.”

“Hell no,” Sunoo deadpanned. “I have a paper to finish.”

“Also,” Jungwon added on, pointing an accusing finger at Sunghoon, “I don’t trust you.”

“The fuck? I’m trustworthy.” He turned to you and asked, “Y/N, you think I’m trustworthy, right?”

“No,” you replied immediately. “In fact, I was gonna tell Jungwon and Sunoo to save themselves.”

“Yeah, I can’t get spiked today, dude,” Jungwon said. “I have a fluids test tomorrow.”

After saying your goodbyes to Sunoo and Jungwon, who took a while to figure out where they parked their car, you turned your attention back to Sunghoon and Wonbin. Beomgyu walked up to your group after being occupied with talking to Jisung and Anton for a while. 

“Let’s just go for an hour or something,” Wonbin told Sunghoon. “Are Jake and Beomgyu coming?”

“I’ll join,” Beomgyu said. “I think Jake’s being dragged somewhere by Minjeong, though. Heeseung, are you coming?”

Heeseung started, “No, I—”

“Oh!” Sunghoon bursted out, grabbing his two friends by the shoulders and tugging them away. He turned on his heel quickly, muttering something along the lines of, “Let’s just leave them alone.”

You raised a brow. “What’s his deal?”

You were just able to catch Heeseung’s expression under the dim lamplight, noting how he shied away at your question and averted his gaze. You swore the tips of his ears went scarlet, although you weren’t able to properly discern whether your mind was playing tricks on you or not. 

“Uh, he’s probably just zooted,” your boyfriend said offhandedly. He shot you a glance once you two started walking in the direction of his apartment. “Are you cold?” Before you could answer him, though, Heeseung was already taking off his sweater to hand it to you.

You giggled. “Thanks.” After a few moments, you bit your lip and told him, “Hey, so, about the survey, I thought you should know—”

“—that Minjeong sent me the link?” he finished for you, a grin growing on his face. You stared at him, nonplussed. “Don’t worry, I already knew. When I showed Jake the text, he recognized her number immediately. I figured you guys were just being nice.”

“I’m sorry, I—”

“No, no,” he interrupted, shaking his head. “Why’re you apologizing? That was, like, the nicest thing they’ve done for me.” He wrapped an arm around your shoulder. “You really turned my life around there. I would’ve probably just been permanently banned from Starbucks by now if it weren’t for you.”

Your cheeks went hot. It was true that you and Heeseung growing closer definitely changed his relationship with the employees, but you could say the same for him, too. You were admittedly reserved before you met Heeseung, and dating him opened your world up to so many new people. You wouldn’t have had all these new friends if it weren’t for him.

“You’ve done so much for me, too,” you told him. “I’ve never been able to just spontaneously hang out with so many friends before. I never even approached people before, and now I’m gonna room with Minjeong, Chaewon, and Aeri.”

He smiled down at you. “They like you ‘cause you’re fun to be around. Give yourself some more credit.” When you two reached the door of his apartment, Heeseung stopped in his tracks instead of opening the door. You noticed the flush of pink dusting his cheeks when he mumbled, “By the way, I sort of got you a surprise for your Starbucks thing.”

“Really?” You beamed up at him. “Hee, it’s really not that big of a deal for you. You didn’t have to get me something over that.”

“No, it is a big deal,” he insisted. “If it’s something big for you, then it’s big for me, okay? So, close your eyes.”

“Okay.” You placed your hands over your eyes, and your chest felt hot when Heeseung moved his arm to place his hand over your hands from behind, too. Your back was against his chest, and you could almost make out how fast his heart was beating. After you heard the sound of the door being unlocked, Heeseung took small steps forward to get you to walk inside. “Ow. You stepped on my heel.”

“My bad. Step on my feet.”

You did as he said and proceeded to laugh as Heeseung awkwardly walked you further into his apartment after shutting the door behind him. You leaned back against his chest and stumbled a little once he had you step off of his feet. 

“Okay, stay right there,” he instructed, “and keep your eyes closed!”

You swayed back and forth as you waited for him to return. He didn’t take very long, but you were brimming with anticipation. You stilled once you realized he was right in front of you again. You were just about to remove your hands when Heeseung stopped you again.

“Don’t!” he warned, and then asked, “Remember when I stole that baby goat for you?”

Your smile was quickly replaced with a disapproving frown. “Lee Heeseung, do not tell me you still have the baby goat.”

“No!” he exclaimed. “I miss him every day, though. But… I remembered you said something about how it would be nice if we raised a pet together one day, and I know we’re not living together yet or anything, but I thought it’d be nice to share… something…” He trailed off, clearly flustered. “Er, so—yeah, you can open your eyes now.”

You removed your hands and a gasp fell from your lips almost immediately.

Nestled in Heeseung’s palms was the cutest baby kitten you had ever seen. You cooed as you reached over to stroke its plush, white fur. The mewl that came from the kitten nearly had you falling to your knees from how adorable it was.

“He’s a Ragdoll,” he told you. “I thought we could parent him together.”

Heeseung let you hold the kitten in your hands, and you held him close to your chest and pressed a kiss to the top of his head. 

“I could seriously kiss you right now,” you breathed out. 

“Don’t kiss me yet.” He grinned. “I have something else for you.”

You could’ve died of happiness on the spot. Your boyfriend really was completely unfair. How could he spoil you this much and expect you not to combust?

Heeseung dug into his pockets for a moment before pulling out a silver key. You were confused as he took the kitten back from you and placed the key in your hands. After you weighed it in your palm and inspected it for a moment, the dots started connecting in your head. You could almost feel the tears threatening to well up in your eyes.

“That’s our spare key to the apartment. It’s all yours,” he said. “I talked to Sunghoon about it, obviously, and he was totally chill with you having a key to our place. You can come by whenever you want, and you don’t need to wait for me to get out of class if you wanna come over and see our cat.”

“Heeseung,” you murmured, “I don’t know what to say.”

He seemed to visibly panic. “It’s totally cool if you don’t want it. I wasn’t sure if I was moving too fast with that or not, uh… Sunghoon and I just keep it under the doormat if we accidentally get locked out, so it’s really not—”

“I love you,” you breathed out.

His eyes grew wide. 

He quickly became a stuttering mess, scrambling to fit words together into a sentence, but nothing was coming out coherently. You almost wanted to laugh because his distress was so cute, but you decided to show him how you felt instead.

The words died on his lips as soon as you wrapped your arms around Heeseung’s neck and kissed his disquiet away. And this time, it felt like you were able to pour your entire heart into that one kiss because there was something that stirred deep within your heart as your lips moved against Heeseung’s soft ones. 

You never thought one person could move your heart like this, never thought someone could make you feel like you were made of magic, but Heeseung managed to wriggle his way into your heart so effortlessly. One of his hands moved to hold the back of your neck, deepening the kiss slowly—at your own pace. 

When you two finally pulled away after what felt like forever, Heeseung didn’t pull away from you. His nose nudged yours, then grazed your cheek, peppering several more chaste kisses to your lips before you were a giggling and blushing mess. 

Your boyfriend grinned. “I love you, too, Y/N.”

It was then when your kitten mewled from where it was resting on Heeseung’s free hand, seemingly wanting attention. You stared at it for a moment before realization dawned across your face.

“Yoshi!” you exclaimed. “We should name him Yoshi.”

He gasped. “I wanted to name him something Mario-themed! But I thought Mario or Luigi sounded stupid.” He snorted and held the Ragdoll properly again, using his knuckle to gently stroke his head. “Yoshi sounds perfect.”

You giggled. “Yoshi should watch the Mario movie with us. It’s only tradition.”

“I’ll get the popcorn ready.” 

He saluted and handed you the remote so that you could pull up the movie. You took the kitten in your hands and curled up on the couch, placing Yoshi on your lap. When your boyfriend returned, he wrapped an arm around you and started the movie, petting the kitten every now and then. 

And after your umpteenth rewatch, you were definitely going to brag about your new kitten to all your friends; you were going to start looking into applying for apartments for you, Minjeong, Chaewon, and Aeri to move into; and, most importantly, you were going to tell Heeseung you loved him over and over again until there were no doubts in his mind about your feelings for him. 

It was around three in the morning when Park Sunghoon stumbled to the front door of his apartment. He, Wonbin, and Beomgyu somehow ended up getting crossed to the point of nearly blacking out at the party. Thankfully, though, after sitting on the curb of a sidewalk for thirty minutes and having Beomgyu forcing Gatorade down his throat, Sunghoon seemed to sober up enough to walk back home.

Beomgyu insisted on walking him back after they dropped off Wonbin (who hardly remembered his own name at the moment), but Sunghoon was determined to brave the journey back home. 

He patted down his pockets and realized he only had his phone and wallet. No keys. He must’ve left them at home since he was out with Heeseung earlier in the night. 

But no worries. Sunghoon and Heeseung always kept a spare key under the doormat in case of emergencies like these. Sure, he and his housemate often got themselves into crazy situations from time to time, but the smartest decision they had ever made was keeping their extra key ready. 

However, when Sunghoon flipped the corner of the doormat up, there was nothing there. He paused and lifted up the doormat completely, but absolutely nothing was underneath. 

Fuck, he remembered, that motherfucker gave Y/N the stupid spare key.

He honestly couldn’t blame Heeseung because he agreed to letting Y/N have the key, but now he couldn’t get in the house. Couldn’t Heeseung give her the key at a normal hour, like tomorrow afternoon? This situation was fucked.

Sunghoon groaned and dialed Beomgyu’s number. After a few rings, his friend picked up.

He asked, “Weed Guy Beomgyu, can I crash at your place?”

“Use the doormat key,” was his friend’s curt response. 

“Heeseung gave it to Y/N.”

A couple seconds of silence rolled by before Beomgyu answered, “Fine. I’ll pick you up in a few.”

prev | masterlist | next

SUMMARY ▸ in which you work at the starbucks where heeseung is a regular at (and considered a public enemy). also he only goes when he’s stoned off his ass.

AUTHOR'S NOTE ▸ thank you for supporting a stoner's guide to starbucks all this time !! :') it has been a JOURNEY and i feel so so bittersweet about it ending but i very much appreciate all the love and support you guys have shown this smau <3 i am also very much content with this ending and i hope you guys enjoy it as well 🥰 the next chapter will be the epilogue and then i'll post some uncuts !! #LIGHTONEUPFORHEESEUNG

[sorrowfulrosebud]

B- bu- bud... idk if requests are open but....

B- be- bear bakugou who loves climbing trees but hates the winter cold on his paws. So he starts climbing things in the house😔. Just you scolding him while he's sitting snug on top the bookshelf because he left claw marks and splintered the wood...

BAHAHAHA MUG I LOVE THIS

“Katsuki.”

“Fuck off.”

“Katsuki!”

“Fuck off!”

“Get down from there now!” You scolded your hybrid as he glowered at you from the top of the bookshelf.

“Fucking make me, human!” He sneered, claws digging deeper into the wood, splintering the precious heirloom.

“Katsuki please, you’re damaging the bookshelf!” You pleaded. Katsuki huffed whilst continuing to glower.

“No. I like it up here. Now piss off!” He demanded, leaning forward to get his point across. The bookshelf was beginning to tip slightly, causing you to worry.

“What happened to your other climbing equipment?! Why does my poor bookcase have to suffer?!” You whined, cringing at the groaning of the bookcase. Huffing, you look at your companion.

“Okay. What would it take for you to come down?” You tried from a different perspective. Katsuki stared at you.

“Salmon bowl. But, I eat it up here. Then I’ll come down,” he said, positioning himself to get comfortable.

“Oh god fucking damnit Suki, fine! I’ll make your damned fucking bowl of salmon and fucking rice,” you grumble under your breath, muttering about how you hate winter as much as he does. Katsuki triumphantly smirks before falling asleep to the sounds of you grunting in the kitchen.

“Oi, wake up you stinky brat,” you grumble, pinging the chopsticks against the bowl as Katsuki’s eyes cracked open. His mouth delved into an O shape as he yawned, pointy toofs on show.

He reminded you of a kitten; so sleepy in the winter and hibernating anywhere he can. He could barely keep his eyes open during winter, so you were surprised that he managed to even climb up the damn bookcase.

“Mmmm, don’ wanna wake uuuuuuup,” he sleepily mumbled, getting comfy again.

“Oh no you little bastard, I made you the bowl so you would get off my bookcase. You promised, so get your lazy ass up and eat,” you scolded firmly, ready to throw the bowl at him when he sticks his middle finger up. You huff before smirking; time to bring out the big guns.

“Fine then. No more kisses for a week,” you said, going to leave. Katsuki’s head snapped to you.

“What?” He asked, sleepiness depleting.

“Yup, and no ear rubs whilst you’re napping too,” you list off, about to leave the living room when you hear conflicted angry grunts.

“Ugghghh fine, shitty mate. But, I get to lay on your lap and you have to feed me. Deal?” He answered cheekily, sleepy smirk slapped on his face.

You sigh.

“Deal.”

“Was this really so hard, sweetie?” You murmur to him softly, petting your sleepy bear boy after he demolished his bowl of salmon and rice. Katsuki cracked an eye open.

“Mhm, totally. Natural instincts an’ shit, plus I like being up in high places. Is too cold to do it outside,” he mutters, head nestling into your tummy. Your fingers trail softly over his cute little brown ears, giggling when you see his pompom tail wiggle.

“Stop moving, human. Your laughing is disrupting my sleep,” he mumbles, nosing your tummy as you wrap a blanket around him.

“Sorry, my love. Well we can look into constructing something a bit more practical for you to climb until it’s not as cold outside. I think the attic might be a cool place for some more climbing gear, plus the alcoves could be padded out for your naps,” you ramble quietly, gentle tracing of his ears never ceasing until you hear the quiet rumbly snores of your mate.

You stop talking, wrapped the blanket higher around his neck and kissed the space between his fluffy ears.

“Goodnight, my bratty cub.”

[kathlare]

fuck papaya rules

Lando Norris x Amelie Dayman

Summary: Lando struggles with the aftermath of a heartbreaking race at the Italian Grand Prix, feeling betrayed by his own team and frustrated by his lost opportunity. As he vents to Amelie, she offers him comfort and perspective, helping him navigate his emotions. Despite their distance, their connection is evident, with both longing for moments of peace amidst their hectic lives.

Wordcount: 1.6 k

Warnings: just fluff

request over here!

September 1st, 2024 - Monza, Italy

The Monza paddock was electric. The Italian Grand Prix had just ended, and while the Tifosi roared their approval for Charles Leclerc’s victory, the McLaren garage was a mix of silent tension and forced smiles. Lando Norris, who had started from pole position, sat slumped in his driver’s room, his race suit still on, his head buried in his hands.

He had it. Victory was within his grasp. But instead, he’d been boxed out by his teammate, Oscar Piastri, on the opening lap, both of them losing crucial time as they fought each other. Charles had taken full advantage, slipping past while Lando and Oscar scrambled to recover.

To make matters worse, the team had called over the radio, "Papaya Rules", granting both drivers freedom to race. Freedom, Lando thought bitterly, to screw up his shot at the championship.

A knock on the door broke his thoughts. His engineer peeked inside cautiously.

—Lando, team debrief in five minutes.—

—Fuck off.— His voice was low and cold, a far cry from his usual joking tone. The engineer retreated, leaving him alone in the quiet room.

As he stripped off his race suit and grabbed his phone, he felt the weight of frustration crush him. Five missed calls to Amelie. She wasn’t answering.

He sighed, dropping onto the bed in his hotel room later that night. His thumbs hovered over his phone screen, debating whether to send another message or let it go. Instead, his frustration boiled over.

Lan🧡: Call me. Please.

He shot off the text and tossed his phone onto the nightstand.

Hours later, Amelie stepped out of her trailer on set, her phone in hand. The midday sun beat down as she squinted at the screen, her heart sinking at the five missed calls and a slew of texts from Lando.

Lan🧡: Can you call me? Amelie, I need to talk to you. What the fuck is wrong with this team? Please call when you’re free.

Her stomach tightened. Something was wrong. Grabbing a water bottle, she stepped into a quieter corner of the lot and called him.

He answered, his voice still tight with frustration. —Amelie.

—Hey, what happened? I saw your texts and calls, and you sound… I don’t know, mad? Are you okay?— Her voice was calm, soothing, even though Lando could tell she was still in work mode.

Lando let out a bitter laugh. —Oh, I’m fucking fantastic, babe. You know, just lost a race I should’ve won. Just watched my own fucking team throw me under the bus for the sake of... "fairness."—

—Lando... what are you talking about?—

—Monza. Pole position. I had it, Amelie. I fucking had it. But Oscar, goddamn Oscar, decided it was his turn to play hero. We’re fighting on Lap One, Charles flies past, and then the team tells me, "Papaya Rules." Can you believe that shit? They let us fight, even though I’m the one with a shot at the title. Oscar’s out of the fucking running! Why even risk it?—

Amelie stayed quiet, letting him vent. She could hear the anger and hurt in his voice, the cracks where frustration met vulnerability.

—You should’ve heard me in the debrief,— he continued, his voice louder now. —I called them out. Told them they were sabotaging me. They didn’t care. They just smiled and said, "It’s racing." Racing, my ass. It’s politics. That’s what it fucking is.—

Amelie closed her eyes, feeling the weight of his words. She knew he was upset, but hearing him so raw, so hurt, made her heart ache for him. She had been in situations where things didn’t go as planned, but this—this sounded like something deeper, something that touched the core of what he had worked for.

—Lando, listen to me.— She spoke softly, trying to calm the storm she could feel swirling in his voice. —I get it. I know how much this means to you. But... babe, you need to breathe. I know it's frustrating, but yelling at your team isn’t going to make them change what happened today. You did your best. You had pole. But sometimes... racing is just out of our control. It’s not always the way we want it.—

He let out a frustrated grunt. —I don't need a fucking lecture right now, Amelie. I just want to scream. I’ve worked my ass off for this title, and they just handed it to Charles on a silver platter. And Oscar? He’s not even close to being in the title race. He had no business getting in my way. And the team? They don’t give a shit. They just care about keeping it “fair” while I'm here fighting for the championship!—

—Lando... I’m not lecturing you.— Amelie’s voice was firm, but her heart was soft. —I know you're pissed off. I know you're hurt. And you have every right to feel that way. I would be too. But you need to calm down, okay? For yourself. I know you want to win, but this isn’t the end of the world. You’ll have more chances. You're still in the fight. It's just one race.—

Lando was silent for a beat. He knew she was right. She always was. But it didn’t make it any easier. —I just don’t know what to do anymore, Amelie. It’s like I’m stuck in this endless loop. I fight for every inch, and then something like this happens, and I feel like I’m getting nowhere.—

—Hey, listen.— Amelie softened her tone even more. —You’re not getting nowhere. You’re doing incredible things. You’ve worked so hard to get here. And you will get to the top. You have the talent, the skill. This is just a setback. You’ll bounce back from it. I believe in you.—

Lando felt a tightness in his chest. Hearing her speak to him like this, it reminded him of how much he relied on her. She had always been his rock, even when he didn’t realize it. —I just... I wish you were here. I could really use you right now. I’m going crazy in this hotel room, all by myself.—

Amelie’s heart softened at his words. She knew how much he was struggling, how hard it was for him to process everything. The pressure, the frustration—everything was hitting him at once. She wished she could be there with him, to comfort him, to help him find some peace in the chaos of his mind.

—I know, baby. I wish I could be there too.— Her voice was gentle but steady. —I really do. But I’m filming right now, you know how it is. It's not easy to get away.—

Lando’s voice cracked a little, still tinged with frustration. —I know, I know... It’s just, sometimes it feels like everything’s against me, you know? Like, I can’t catch a fucking break.—

—It feels like that sometimes. I get it. But listen to me, you are not alone in this. We’re in this together, even when we’re not in the same place. And I know you feel like you’re fighting a battle on your own, but you're not. I’m right here, Lando. You’ve got me. Always.—

Lando exhaled slowly, trying to take in her words, trying to let them calm the storm inside him. —I miss you so much, Amelie. I hate that we’re not together right now. It feels like everything’s better when you’re around. I don’t know how I’m supposed to do this without you.—

—You’ll get through it, I promise. And we’ll see each other soon. Just hang in there, okay? And when I get back, we’ll talk. We’ll figure things out.— She smiled softly, even though he couldn’t see it, as she thought of their future plans. —Besides, I heard you’re off to Portugal with Max and Pietra next week.—

Lando let out a small chuckle, his mood lightening a bit at the mention of the trip. —Yeah, I know, I’m going to miss you. I thought you’d be there with us, but it’ll just be me, Max, and Pietra. Gonna be a weird vibe without you. But hey, I’m sure they’ll keep me entertained.—

Amelie laughed softly, teasing him. —Max will probably keep you occupied with his non-stop talking, and Pietra might just force you into a full-on workout routine. I can already picture it. You’re gonna need a vacation from your vacation.—

Lando smirked, though the tension still hadn’t fully left him. —Maybe. But I’d rather be with you. It’s just not the same without you. Maybe after your tour, we can plan a real trip, just us. Somewhere quiet, far away from all the racing shit. Somewhere we can actually relax and enjoy ourselves.—

Amelie’s heart fluttered at the thought. She loved how they could talk about everything and nothing at the same time, how they could dream together even when life was hectic. —I’d love that. I think we both need it. We’ll make it happen, I promise.—

But then, just as the moment felt like it was settling, Amelie heard a voice from behind her. —Amelie, we need you on set in five minutes.—

She sighed, reluctant to end the call but knowing she had no choice. —I’ve gotta go, babe. They’re calling me back to set. But I’ll be thinking about you. I’m always thinking about you.—

Lando groaned, rubbing his face in frustration. —I know, I know. I’ll be okay. I just needed to hear your voice. Thanks for helping me calm down. You’re the best.—

—Anytime, Lando. I’ll call you when I can, okay? Just... don’t go breaking anything, alright?— She tried to keep it light, knowing that his mood was still delicate.

—Ha, very funny. I’ll try to keep it together. But seriously, Amelie... I love you.—

She smiled warmly, her heart swelling with affection. —I love you too. So much. Hang in there, alright? We’ll talk soon. Promise.—

As she hung up the phone and walked back to the set, Amelie couldn’t help but feel a mixture of emotions. She hated that Lando was going through this, that his race had been ruined by circumstances beyond his control. But she was proud of him for being strong, for fighting for his chance at the title.

And she couldn’t wait for the day when they could finally be together again, away from the chaos of their separate worlds. But for now, all she could do was send him love, support, and the reminder that he wasn’t alone.

[jaemmphilia]

☾ hush hush ☽ | l. jeno

☾ synopsis: the impending fear of being caught getting head in your childhood room is not ideal when introducing your boyfriend to your parents for the first time. ☾ featuring: lee jeno x m!reader ☾ prompt: "if we get caught, i'm blaming you. just so we're clear." ☾ warnings: lowercase intended, sexual themes, jeno is a nervous boy ☾ © triplejracha, 2024. please do not copy, translate or upload to other platforms.

read hjenthusiast's version here!

jeno realizes he doesn't have a backbone when it comes to you, his boyfriend of almost 4 years. he is now painfully aware that he cannot tell you no, especially when you look up at him with those doe eyes he claims to hate so much (newsflash, he loves them).

jeno sits at the edge of his bed in his childhood room, his legs spread with you placed in between them as you sit on your knees. jeno thinks you look the most attractive like this, big eyes staring up at him, waiting patiently for him to tell you to continue. you were very adamant about wanting to fuck in his childhood room rather than the luxurious hotel he booked for the both of you while you visit his family for the holidays.

jeno's eyes keep looking at the lock on his door, he knows the door is locked, but the lingering fear that it isn’t sits heavy in his stomach. 

“nono, why aren’t you looking at me?” your soft voice echoes in jeno’s ears and he turns to look back at you. your plump, bottom jutted out in a pout, doe eyes looking up at him through your lashes. “am i not interesting enough for you?”

jeno’s mouth opens to deny what you’re saying, but his words catch in his throat as you bring your hands up to pull his zipper down. you keep your eyes on him as your fingers pull his zipper down at a slow, agonizing pace. jeno feels the ghostly touch of your fingers against his length, and he gets a chill up his spine, making his body shiver.

he decides to let all caution fly out of the window and allow you to do what you want with him.

"if we get caught, i'm blaming you. just so we're clear." jeno hisses out as your hand strokes his hardening length at a teasingly slow pace.

you just roll your eyes at him, not really caring about his threat. you both know he wouldn't dare blame you for something like this if you happened to get caught (he's a little soft when it comes to you).

"nono, would you really throw me under the bus like that?" you say, your signature pout painted on your soft features but jeno can see the mischief swirling in your eyes.

"normally, no," jeno says, a deep groan spilling from his lips as you wrap your plump lips around the tip of his cock. he covers his mouth with the back of his hand as you start to suck the life out of him.

you begin to take him further down your throat, getting about a third of his length in your mouth. you twist your hands around the rest. slurping noises are filling the room and jeno hopes they don't travel through the gap in the bottom of his door.

panic bubbles in his chest as he thinks of his mother walking past his room to go to the bathroom, her ears picking up the filthy sounds of you blowing her son.

jeno feels you pull away from him and he opens his eyes, the view of you swallowing and wiping your mouth with the back of your hand. did he really just cum from thinking about being caught by his mother?

"that was fast, nono," you say, standing up as your knees pop, "were you thinking about being caught?" you joke, twisting your body as jeno doesn't reply. your eyes go wide.

"you totally were! nono!" you begin to cackle at him. jeno's ears get red as he tries to grab you to stop you from being so loud.

you allow him to grab you and cover your mouth although you continue to laugh and giggle behind his hand.

jeno has no idea what he's going to do with you.

[shitswiftiessay]

so taylor has put out another hit piece against joe (who’s surprised)

after buying winning the TIME person of the year award 2023, and having a gushing puff piece that’s supposed to paint her as this trailblazer for women and feminist icon…

she made sure to dedicate a significant portion of it to talking about her boyfriends. 🙄

so here are the cringeworthy excerpts where she’s talking about her latest victim boyfriend.

“Football is awesome, it turns out. I’ve been missing out my whole life.”

I love how she single handedly debunked the claim that swifties have been making, that taylor ALWAYS loved football and was a huge eagle fan (just bc she had an eagles shirt). now it’s basically confirmed that this football shit is just taylor’s newest PERSONALITY that she’s gonna wear for a few months, until she gets bored of it, and then she’ll throw travis under the bus and she’ll start siccing her fans against him.

“This all started when Travis very adorably put me on blast on his podcast, which I thought was metal as hell.”

god, someone bring me a BARF BUCKET please. 🪣 🤮 and since when is it “adorable” for a guy to PUT YOU ON BLAST because you wouldn’t go out with him or take his number?? that’s… very weird. i’m sure she wouldn’t find it “adorable” if she wasn’t interested in the guy. but anyway, i’m pretty sure she just saw an opportunity here and she took it. she can’t handle being single for more than a month, she needed a new man to make people forget about her matty healy era. and she’s LOVING the good press she’s getting for being “America’s royal couple” as her fans are calling them. but does she actually LOVE HIM? that, I remain yet to be convinced about.

and I love this part. “We would never be psychotic enough to hard-launch a first date.”

yeah, taylor’s not CRAZY you guys, it’s not like she said “I love you” to matty healy on stage back in may before breaking up with him 2 weeks later. nah. it’s not like she immediately bought a house next to her teenage boyfriend connor kennedy who was STILL IN HIGH SCHOOL when she started dating him. nah. that would be CRAZY. PSYCHOTIC even!!

and here comes the part where she starts passive aggressively smearing joe and we all know she’s on a smear campaign against joe now but it’s kind of pathetic that even while winning PERSON OF THE YEAR she has to make it about that.

so taylor obviously has a lot to say about her new relationship, and how proud they are of each other. but you know what I DON’T hear her saying? “I’m in love” or “I’m happy with him.”

and personally, i think that speaks volumes. if she was truly HAPPY with her new man she wouldn’t be doing all this shit. if you were around when taylor broke up with calvin and then immediately started hard-launching hiddleswift, taking pap photo after pap photo and being extremely “happy” she was and meeting his mom and all that shit…. and if you don’t see the parallels between what she’s doing NOW with travis, you’re either a blind fan or just flat out stupid.

because at least when she started dating joe she actually left her exes alone (at least for a little while), she was like “I forget their names now.” and you can tell she was happy without having to make a big show of it- “nobody’s heard from me for months, I’m doing better than I ever was.”

but now she’s acting like it’s the worst thing ever that she was “locking herself in her house for a lot of years,” and she KNOWS that her fans are going to take that and blame joe for it.

JUST LOOK at the quotes and replies of this tweet and this tweet to see how those insane fucking swifties are acting over this. EVERYTHING she does now is an incitement against joe and she knows it, it’s deliberate, it’s calculated.

and i guess she’s gotta bury him while she continues hanging out with a sexual abuse apologist so she can look like she has some kind of moral high ground.

also, the way she’s trying to erase the fact that 11 of the 15 songs on reputation were LOVE SONGS about joe, not “a goth-punk moment of female rage at being gaslit by an entire social structure.”

this woman is just narcissistic and straight up DELUSIONAL at this point. she’s so far up her own ass it’s nauseating. but i really hope that she keeps on talking. because the more she talks, the more people realise what a narcissistic clown she is. 🤡

[piratefishmama]

Forgiven not Forgotten | Part 5

Two years.

Two whole years in that void.

Two years of his life. Gone. And he remembered none of it.

He didn’t even have time to ask questions either, because the moment the words “what happened?” left his lips, someone was pushing to get into the room.

“Everyone not involved with the Hawkins incident, I want you out of this room immediately.” A badge was flashed before the officials could argue, and a woman, unfamiliar to Eddie, but clearly having been through the ringer herself missing an arm and sporting one hell of a scar over the left side of her face, pushed her way through. “That means you officers, out.”

They didn’t argue, both leaving without question. Government.

“Stinson?” Steve was the first to identify her, while the others just looked on in surprise “you’re alive? Is Owens—”

“Despite the real effort those things put in to make it otherwise, yes. I’m here. Owens is permanently wheelchair bound but he’s okay. Mr and Mrs Harrington” She nodded to the two in the back, Steve’s parents holy shit. Okay. “I’ll allow you to stay on account of the fact that I don’t know what you’ve been told already. Mr Thompson, I thank you for your attendance however the government will take over from here. You’re not needed.” ‘Harold’ took one look at the Harringtons, then another to the men waiting outside the door, and chose wisely.

“Sorry John, government. I’m way over my head here.” He uttered, before making his quiet exit.

“I’m never hiring him again.” John sighed with a roll of his eyes, while Lynda stared Stinson down with an air of contempt.

“As if you could make us lea—"

“I’m the government, Mrs Harrington, I absolutely could have you removed. Now—” she turned back to the kids “I’ve already spoken with Hopper and the others, this… this issue is more important than their involvement. I know you don’t want to sign them, I know you have every right to tell the government to go fuck itself, I would too in your situation.” She rummaged through her bag, it took a little more effort than it would have normally given the missing other arm, but she made do, producing a folder from within. She placed it on the bed and opened it. A stack of NDA’s. “The government are prepared to clear Mr. Munson’s name, completely, without it ever going to trial, we have a number of names to take the fall for it, all perfectly believable with fabricated eye witnesses, but they only do this, if these are signed.”

“Are you blackmailin—” John spoke up, only to be cut off by the woman with a stern glare.

“Yes. Yes I am. I would rather not be. Listen, they will throw Mr. Munson under the bus, without hesitation, he’s the easiest person to pin this on as the story is already out there and people already believe it. You want their help, it needs to be a two way street. They are prepared to completely clear Munson’s name, and pin the crimes on someone else, they are prepared to create false witnesses, they’re even offering money. What you know is worth millions, and they will pay it to keep you quiet, but if you do not sign these… the second he’s cleared for release, he goes to jail for the murders of Chrissy Cunningham, Fred Benson, Patrick McKinney, and the attempted murder of Maxine Mayfield. You sign them, he leaves with you, a free man. His name will be publicly cleared by the days end. We’ll even make a hero out of him.”

“He is a hero” Dustin argued, a frown on his face.

“Exactly, I agree. The public don’t though. They will when we’re done with them. We need you to sign these” She looked at the Harringtons. “All of you. I’ll leave you with these and wait outside, call me back in when you’ve made your decision.” And with that, she walked out unhindered, leaving them all struck silent.

Until Steve moved. He grabbed the folder first, picking up the pen.

“Steve” Eddie started before anyone else could.

“You’re not going to jail, Eddie. I don’t give a fuck. It’s one piece of paper to sign and honestly who’d believe us if we told anyone anyway? Monsters running or flying through town killing people? Evil vines putting slugs in dead people, spores that kill shit, toxic air? Other dimensions? We’d be called insane, they’d probably class it as a mass hallucination from a gas leak or some shit, they’d put us all in the looney bin the second we opened our mouths. They’re offering to clear your name, and all we have to do is sign some stupid piece of paper. So I’m signing it.”

It was signed before anyone could stop him. And being legally an adult, it was binding. He passed the folder to Dustin, who while not legally an adult, signed it anyway. Then, both young men turned to the adults.

“Steven…”

“Sign it. Sign it and he’s cleared. These people don’t mess around, mom. No doubt the others have already signed. I get you don’t think it’s right, really I do, but—”

“Give it here, son.” John stepped forward and took the offered folder and pen, and was about to sign on the dotted line when—

“Good heavens, at least read it, John” Lynda took the folder from him, eyes on the document, skimming the lines on the page for anything that could fuck them over. “…Oh, give me the damn pen” she took that too, quickly scribbling her signature on her own before passing it back to her husband to sign. “The nerve of these people. This is blatant blackmail. Did he even—was he ever even guilty? Of anything?”

“No, he wasn’t. Unfortunate case of wrong place wrong time… twice. As unbelievable as that is.” Steve sighed, a huge feeling of relief washing over him. Eddie would be okay. He wasn’t dead, he wasn’t going to jail, he’d be fine. This incredibly stupid boy would be okay. “He’ll need a place to stay, Wayne’s—"

Eddie was sat up in an instant, his body complaining but he ignored it “Where’s Wayne? Is he okay? Is he safe? Is he—"

“Whoa whoa, big guy,” Dustin was quick to his side, a hand on his shoulder to steady him as that heart monitor went wild “calm down, Wayne’s okay, he got out before the barricades went up. We don’t know exactly where he went, but we’ll find him, okay? It just might take a bit of time.”

“In the meantime, he can stay with us.” All three sets of eyes turned to John Harrington as he closed the folder, holding it in one hand, Lynda smiling beside him, apparently content with the idea “Our current house only has two bedrooms, but we’ll make do until we can arrange to purchase something larger. I assume Miss Buckley will be staying too until we can find her parents. It’ll be a full house, might be a bit cramped, but we’ll manage. I’ve been stuck in stuffy boardrooms with more people for hours on end, and we hated each other. It’ll be okay.”

“I… dunno, is that—” Steve hesitated, of course Steve hesitated, Eddie didn’t blame him, they barely knew each other. Sure they had shared trauma but that didn’t really mean much between complete strangers. “I mean—” Steve looked at him “will you be comfortable? Staying with… with me?” and wasn’t that just the weirdest question Steve could have asked him.

“Dude… shouldn’t I be asking you that? I’m the freak here, why wouldn’t I be—sure! I’m fine with that, I mean, stranger things have happened, right?”

“Heh, right… if—if you’re sure it won’t make you uncomfortable or anything…”

“A jester in a palace, hanging out with a king, my my, how in the world could I be uncomfortable with that?” He smiled, wide, teasing, his cheeks dimpled as Steve rolled his eyes with obvious fondness.

Lynda grabbed her husbands’ arm subtly, taking his attention just long enough for her to utter the word “Dimples” at him while Dustin kept the others attention with his complaining about Steve getting to stay with Eddie. Steve immediately firing back with the fact that Dustin was staying too until they could find Claudia and not to be dumb.

He looked down at her with a small frown, then back at Eddie, realisation dawning on him just as quickly as it did his wife.

“Dimples.”

Part 7

[jewishbarbies]

Look I’ve not seen many antis who like Britney Spears, so I’m going to leave this message here because you’re like the OG anti blog. So I apologise if you’re not a fan.

Taylors themes in this album were being “tortured” and mental health. She has lyrics implying her love life is torture and that loving these men has made her manic and that she grew up in an asylum. And now apparently her music video is in a mental hospital. Britney Spears has literally been tortured. She’s literally had her mental health used against her. She’s been forced into treatment clinics. And Taylor Swift uses it as an AESTHETIC. REALLY?! I am all for accepting other people have their own struggles and to never compare apples and oranges but it’s so classless. She sends her own ex bf of 6 years to the wolves blaming his mental health and goes onto to say oh woe is me my mental health struggles are so hard. What is it?! Is it hard to struggle with mental health issues or is it a joke to you Taylor, an aesthetic?! It’s actually infuriated me because Taylor gets to put this hat on as an act (I do believe she has mental health problems and needs therapy but that’s another conversation) but Britney doesn’t. This is her life and she is mocked and ridiculed for it. I’ve seen Swifties literally call Britney crazy and say she doesn’t deserve to see her kids and she needs the conservatorship. They mock Joe and tell him to kill himself. And they’re what going to support Taylor’s mental health struggles now? No you don’t get it both ways. You don’t get to berate other people and then say the way Taylor’s been treated isn’t fair. And Taylor doesn’t get to use mental illness as an aesthetic and walk away from it when this no longer serves her narrative. It’s infuriating and insulting. I can’t wait to see her downfall.

I couldn’t have said it better myself honestly. watching swifties evicerate britney at every possibility and generally acting like ableist freaks, just to turn around and act like taylor fucking swift is the most tortured person on the planet is so incredibly infuriating. britney hasn’t had comments turned on for months. at some point, it’s all going to catch up with her and taylor won’t be able to throw anyone else under the bus to save herself, and only then will she ever face any real accountability.

[vclvetfleur]

Obedient Chapter 16

Summary: After your talk with Roman, Jess gives him some friendly advice. And Logan is now deciding on who to throw under the bus for the scandal. Based off of S2 E10 and S3 E1

TW: Mental health issues, NSFW (oral) 18+

Word Count: 4.6K

Notes: Sorry again for the slower updates. Bigger things are being planned for the story so bare with me.

Chapter 16: ken is def bd

Jess had just gotten back onto the yacht after making a trip out to the land to just explore. She saw Roman as he sulked. Roman had decided to just remain by himself, avoiding others, trying to distract himself from the massive fuck up he had put himself through. Jess would’ve never thought she’d do this for Roman in a million years, but she couldn’t help herself. She slowly walked to Roman, hoping not to startle him. “Hey, you guys talk?” She asked him.

Roman removed his sunglasses, looking at Jess completely defeated. “Fucking yeah- uh- yeah we did. She doesn’t wanna hear it.” He decided to open up rather than push. The trip to Turkey had made Roman realize the way he pushed and didn’t talk about his feelings really put him in difficult situations. Any day could be his last.

“I’m sorry- what happened?” She sat down, trying to get all the details. There was no way she was going to get any of these details from you. Roman blew air out, trying to recollect every detail of the conversation to only cut it short enough. “Well- she said she doesn’t love me anymore. That it was before.” He tried to slowly remember all your words. He heard Jess scoff, rolling her eyes. “Bull-fucking-shit.” Jess lightly laughed to herself at how ridiculous the idea was. She had sat right next to you and was lying down. She saw your gaze behind your sunglasses. They were constantly on Roman. You just wouldn’t stop staring. You panicked and nearly had a meltdown because of his trip. You isolated yourself from the court hearings because Roman didn’t need you there. You mentioned him a lot. You would just bring up a funny thing Roman did weeks ago while hanging out with Jess or remember little moments that reminded you of Roman. You were still very much deeply in love with him. Whether you admit it or not.

“Yeah- well, that’s what she said. Uh-so, she said I can’t be forgiven easily. And this could never be what it was.” He shrugged, playing with the corners of his sunglasses. He fidgeted a lot while talking. He just stared off, trying to calm his thoughts. He didn’t know how you did it for him so easily. “That’s just- honestly, it’s just y/n telling you to chase. Just bug her. She’ll scream and yell at you, but trust me, she wants you to chase. She loves to lie about ‘leave me alone’, but as soon as you do, she’s not happy you didn’t run and slam her doors down for her to forgive you. She’s an attached avoidant. It’s her way of- don’t even fucking know.” Jess shrugged, trying to explain your personality to Roman. Jess has seen you do this with everyone; Friends, boyfriends, and family. You would scream at your friends, go hide, and then expect them to come to you. But when they didn’t you told Jess and villainized them. You expected your family to eventually come back. You don’t want them back anymore. The timing has been too long.

“I’m just glad you made y/n actually happy for a bit. I would hate for her to lose that. Despite my distain for you Roman.” Jess admitted. Roman appreciated the sentiment. “Fucking whatever- uh while you’re here and y/n isn’t. Can you get me a beer or something?” Roman teased. Jess flipped him off before leaving him alone. Roman now knew you better. He wasn’t going to let up.

The entire family was set at the table, including the older staff and you and Jess. Roman had made sure to save you a spot and fill the rest of the table up before you had come in with Jess. You took your seat next to him, waiting for Kendall and Logan to make their entrance in. “So, do you think they’re throwing little Greggy into the ringer?” Roman asked the table. Greg shifted in his seat, looking around nervously. “Hey man, not fucking cool- okay? I mean- just...” But he was cut off once Logan and Kendall entered. Roman just laughed at Greg’s anxieties being so present on his face. Logan had finally announced who would take the blame and have to step away from the company. Kendall. No one could speak. The air felt thick, and it felt as though even though all our hearts raced, they were all matching. Your stomach felt disgusted. You looked at Kendall, sympathizing for hearing Roman beginning to protest for his brother. He was the only one to do so. No one wanted to sacrifice themselves to Logan or the company. It was better if Kendall dealt with it then them because… well, it wasn’t them. Roman felt like it wasn’t fair. He couldn’t let it happen. Someone else was responsible and Kendall should have no part in being blamed for it.

But Kendall already accepted his fate. In fact, he stepped up to it. “Hey, it’s okay. Guys, you’re off the hook.” He cleared his throat as he put a napkin in his lap. No one was going to be able to eat after this. You had completely lost your appetite. Roman couldn’t believe what had just happened. His older brother, someone he saw being set up for greatness has just taken a nosedive. Roman leaned in and asked Kendall “You okay?” He couldn’t trust Kendall’s judgment. He knew how much the company meant to him. And for him not to be a part of it anymore, Roman knew it would destroy Kendall.

Kendall tried to put on a brave face and lied about being fine. But everyone knew this was going to become a spiraling downward spiral for Kendall. He was nothing without Waystar. His whole life was set up for Waystar. You put a hand on Roman’s shoulder, trying to relax him Everyone just then began to ask for themselves. Roman and Shiv didn’t bother to ask for themselves. Just kept quiet. Before Logan announced the new Chief Operating Officer.

Roman.

He was shaken at all the news being through his way. He was happy, but so devasted at the same time. He just let out a heavy breath, unsure what to do or say.

Shiv took the news hard. Roman didn’t even want to believe the news, assuming he’d be watched over by Frank. But Logan promised it was the real deal. Roman was now COO. It was finally the real deal. His dad hadn’t been lying to him this whole time like everyone said. It was never Shiv. It was always him. He wasn’t too stupid or incompetent.

Kendall looked at Roman as if he had been stabbed in the back a thousand times by all his loved ones. It was the position he was meant to hold, now given away to his younger brother. Roman looked at him, unsure of how to accept the news, but told Logan he could do it. Kendall let a smile shine, before retracting it. Despite his failure, he was happy to see his younger brother be able to step up. He had faith in Roman. But Roman couldn’t accept it, but Kendall reassured him it was great. That he was happy for him. Kendall pushed everyone to go on with the dinner. But there was a kind of silence. Roman couldn’t eat. He just watched as everyone's forks and knives hit the plate, making that god-awful sound. You just tried to keep Roman calm enough on the outside. You breathed in and out slowly for him, having him follow your league in a quiet way so no one noticed what you both did. But Jess noticed. “Congratulations Rome, you deserve it. Really.” You whispered to him, taking a bite of your food. He nodded, finally deciding to eat after watching you eat. Dinner was awkward. Barely anyone spoke except Kendall and Logan from time to time to ease the awkwardness. But once everyone was finished, they scurried away into hiding like roaches with a flashlight on them. It was as if they’d be next to get the news they didn’t want to hear. Roman could barely move though. He was the last one there with you. You stayed for emotional support. “Hey- come on, let’s get up, alright?” You encouraged him. He was in a complete haze. You grabbed his arm, standing up and tugging. “Come on Rome- it’s alright, come on.” You continued. He just looked up at you, you weren’t sure what he was feeling. His face told you nothing. “I-uh- I finally fucking did it.” He laughed anxiously. He rubbed his face with one hand, roughly going over his jaw and mouth. “I mean- like- what the fuck was that, right?” He continued to just laugh nervously. You forced him up and tried to drag him to his room. “Do you think he was fucking with me? I mean seriously. You can weirdly read him. Do you think he was lying or-“he was ranting. His mind was going too fast. He couldn’t slow down. “Roman- I think he was serious. Now come on. Let’s just get you to your room. You can celebrate there.” You tried to redirect him. You fortunately got him to his room, but Roman could not stop talking about what just happened. He told you everything you just witnessed as if he recounted it to someone who wasn’t there. The door finally shut as you finally let go of Roman.

“I mean- just- y/n I mean come on- you saw that, right?” He reached out for you to comment on his success. But the door shut, leaving all of his excitement out the door as it finally hit him. “I fucking need you.” His mind spoke, before grabbing you once again, pressing you into him. He forced his lips on yours. You froze, not sure you were ready for this just yet. You pushed at first before finally giving in to Roman’s demands. You pushed his body against the wall, your hands roaming his body. His hands stopped yours, not sure if he was comfortable enough to let this go far enough. He pulled away, looking down at you, trying to catch his breath. “You still do like me.” He began to tease, leaning down to kiss you once again. You pulled away.

“Don’t remind me of what a bad idea this is.” You stood your ground. He nodded, watching you carefully.

“But- you didn’t want me back? Not even for a bit? Even if you were trying to get me to fuck you?” He questioned you. You rolled your eyes, denying it.

“Shut up, this is just your little ego boost now that you’re COO.” You denied your feelings towards Roman. He shrugged, knowing somewhat that it was true. Despite being sad about Kendall, the ego boost it gave him completely drove him wild. “Oh yeah- cause- y’know. It makes this so much hotter; don’t you think? You don’t wanna fuck the potential CEO?” He tried to tempt you. He might not fully be there, but he was willing to push his boundaries with you tonight. Especially since you were pissed at him. It was some way to gain control of himself.

The position of COO gave him confidence like no other. It was such a difference since 2 days ago after being taken advantage of in Turkey. He went from a hostage to a COO. You laughed at him, not trying to admit how much you did want him as badly as he did. You had gone months without touching him in any kind of sexual way. You went weeks without even seeing him naked or just in his boxers. You hadn’t allowed yourself to do anything with anyone else either because you weren’t sure it would feel right to do that to Roman. So, you obtained from everything, other than your own hand and toys. And a bit of fantasy you had.

“Oh yeah- cause I’m the slut who’ll fuck the next man in power.” You said in a sarcastic tone. Roman eyed you down before making a proposal to you. “Uhh- do you actually wanna do this though? Just- can we turn the fucking lights off while you just- I don’t know do whatever the fuck.” He never knew how to ask about these kinds of things properly. His sexuality was such a difficult thing for him to get into.

You looked at him, contemplating. “Well- I just-“ You thought, looking at him.

The desperation was apparent on his face. He wanted to be touched by you. He wanted to actually feel whatever you were willing to give him. But if he could avoid any discomfort of looking at himself along with other issues, he wasn’t ready to address.

The look he gave you, nearly pleading to be touched and loved by you, drove you to your decision. You walked to the wall, flipping the light switch off, and turning the lights off as Roman had asked you. You were lucky enough to be able to find his body. It wasn’t completely dark, there was some ability to make out what was in front of you. Your eyes would adjust soon.

Roman grabbed you, excited, but nervous to finally be able to do what everyone else did without it feeling like a chore. He wasn’t willing to actually go through with everything, but anything would be good. “Just tell me whenever you want to stop, okay?” You checked in with him before proceeding. You grabbed his hand and led him to the bed that remained in the middle of his yacht suite. You sat him down, straddling his hips. You sat down, grinding your hips against his, feeling him get hard almost instantly.

You pressed kisses down his jaw and neck, making sure not to leave marks. You didn’t want people to see their new COO with brand new marks on him with only the possibility being a few people that actually gave it to him. His mouth was closed shut, letting hums out. His body tightened as he felt pleasure taking over from simple kisses. It felt nice. He was comfortable enough. “Do you wanna take my clothes off or…?” You tested his boundaries. He nodded quickly, grabbing the end of your shirt before pulling it over your head and throwing it off somewhere. He hesitantly placed his hands on the curves of your waist, feeling them move slightly as you continued to grind into him. You tried to get yourself off in some way. You leaned down, kissing him. Your lips moved together softly, taking this slowly. You moved your hands down to his shirt to remove it before he stopped you. You removed your hands and placed them away from the end of his shirt. You moved yourself away from his lap, moving his legs apart. You leaned down, not breaking the kiss as you got down in front of him. “Tell me when to stop. You reminded him. You kissed down his jaw to his clothed chest before moving away. You laid your head on his thigh. He stared intently, nodding slowly to let you know he was okay to move on. You nodded back before undoing his hands for him. You nearly removed his pants before he stopped them at a certain point. He laid back, propping himself up on his elbows. He wanted to watch you. He hated the sight of himself but adored the sight of you. “You’re so fucking gorgeous.” He praised you, running his fingers through your hair. Your hands moved towards his cock before pulling it from under his boxers. You looked at Roman again, asking for consent to move forward. Your guidance helped him a lot more than he had expected. Without it, he would’ve stopped nearly immediately. “Touch yourself.” Roman demanded in a soft tone. He didn’t want to sound too controlling, but the neediness in his voice gave away the urgency of how much he wanted you to. You obeyed, licking your fingers before slipping them into the waistband of your shorts. You pressed your fingers against your clit before licking your other hand and stroking Roman at the same time as you touched yourself. His head threw back, biting his bottom lip to keep quiet enough. He couldn’t show off how desperate he truly was to finally be touched by someone. You picked up the pace, watching his reaction getting quicker and more dramatic. He never stopped you though. His head came back to watch you.

“Uh- fucking-uh just- fucking blow me or something.” He tried to get his thoughts in line but was too distracted by your touch. It was intoxicating. You giggled at how much of a mess he was. He needed you so badly. “Don’t fucking laugh.” He seemed almost offended. He held your head in his hand, not pushing or shoving you. Just following whatever he had seen in some kind of porn video he had seen, assuming this was right. “How bad do you need it though?” You asked, slowing down the pace, and pressing a kiss onto the tip. His body twitched, not expecting it to be so sensitive. “Really really fucking bad. Now please- just…” He begged before you finally did as he asked. Your lips wrapped about him, bobbing your head down and up. His lips were slightly separated as he let soft profanities slip through his mouth and whimpers. You picked up a quicker pace, learning what he liked very quickly. He wasn’t too hard to guess. His mouth hung open, his breathing getting heavier the closer he got. He finished quickly, embarrassed immediately as he did. He hid his face in a pillow and humiliated with himself. He wasn’t able to last longer than a couple of minutes. You got up, washing your mouth out, unsure how comfortable Roman would be to receive kisses from you afterward. You came back to see him sulking about being basically sexually inept.

“Hey-…” You sat on the bed, removing the pillow from his face. “Did you have fun at least?” You asked. He nodded, sighing.

“Yeah- Sorry- I just- Sorry I can’t fuck you properly.” He muttered the words out quickly. You let out a stifled laugh, shaking your head.

“Awe shut the fuck up. I had fun. Come on. It was sexy.” You tried to cheer him up. Despite not being able to even get yourself off, it was rewarding watching Roman enjoy himself enough. You planted a kiss on his cheek before getting up to turn the lights on.

“Did you- did you like it though?” Roman asked, insecure about his own abilities. You turned and nodded. “I had the best time Roman. It’s a huge step. I’m proud of you regardless…” You admit, planting another kiss on his lips. “Do you want me to stay over?” You asked. Roman nodded, moving himself to give you enough room on the bed. You scooted in, undressing into just a shirt and underwear before you got in with him. He stayed quiet, finally holding you again for the first time since Dundee. That had to be about 2 weeks ago at this point. He was just glad to finally have you back here with him. He wasn’t going to fuck this up anymore.

You both had fallen asleep fairly quickly.

When Roman woke up a deep set of emotions began to finally sink in. He was COO and Kendall was now going to take the blame. He had taken the job his brother had been waiting for his whole life. And it was all over for Kendall. Roman was conflicted. He was so excited and happy about the position but upset with his brother. This was an injustice done to Kendall. But they were going to have to do a press conference to push out the news. He wasn’t sure if the public would even accept him being COO. His reputation wasn’t the cleanest. He didn’t look fit for the job. But he felt he could do it. You made me feel like he could for the past couple of months. He was grateful for you.

Kendall had been sent out to the states while the rest of the family stayed back. Jess had left with Kendall, and she assured me Kendall was still keeping her on. She assumed he was going to need her for other ventures he might be planning to do.

You felt your stomach turning as you were watching the press conference. It felt sickening. Almost like watching a Shakespearean tragedy but modernized. “I can’t fucking believe this is actually real…” You whispered to Roman. He nodded, biting on his fingernails. He couldn’t either. Everyone watched as if it was watching a slaughter happen on camera. Kendall finally came into the frame before finally talking into the tens of microphones. You leaned in forward, anticipating his announcement.

Kendall then turned against his statements, trashing his father and the company on live television. He had notes set up. Roman got up and rushed to the common room that kept Logan and Shiv. You ran after him. “Fuck…” You murmured. You couldn’t tell if you should be happy or angry at Kendall. You were upset he would ruin his brother's new position, but glad he was standing up against Logan.

Logan watched, feeling a sense of pride. Kendall finally learned the game that Logan has been playing for decades. “We have to go…” Roman whispered to you. You nodded and followed his lead.

“I can’t- holy fuck- fuck- fuck-fuck!” You couldn’t believe what you watched. Roman stayed quiet. He was annoyed he ever felt sorry for the fucking asshole. This was his plan the whole time. He didn’t want to give up the COO position because he was trying to do good by their dad. He wanted to spite his father, even if it ended up hurting Roman too.

Roman’s memories of Kendall putting things before him, rushed to the front of his mind as Roman ranted to you about what an inconsiderate loser he was. How he never truly cared. How Kendall was a psychopath.

“I mean- what the fuck? Right? I mean he encouraged me for getting the COO position. And then he goes and does this? Is he fucking insane? Is he trying to put me in fucking jail or something? I’m too gorgeous to go there. Fuck no. Fuck that cunt.” He couldn’t stop ranting. It really hit you that he put everyone in the company in trouble. Anyone slightly involved could go to jail. This wasn’t just a feud. This was a war to Kendall.

“Ken’s not gonna send you to jail…” You tried to ease Roman’s thoughts. He rolled his eyes, shaking his head. “No- no more defending that cunt. Kendall isn’t some sweet little no chin having sensitive latte sipper. He’s just as fucking crazy as all of us. He’s doing this out of some crazy drug-induced fucking psychotic break.” Roman called it out. But you weren’t sure if that was truly the case. Kendall did seem to have a lot of regrets and a lot of emotions towards the victims and the incidents that happened.

A slam on the bedroom door occurred, startling both of you. “Roman- get your hand out of your fucking pants and let’s fucking go.” One of the staff called out. You grabbed your stuff and rushed out. You got a look from everyone as they were just down the hall. Why would your stuff be in Rome’s room? Logan was too busy to focus on his son’s relationship with his assistant, not that Logan had any room to talk.

You had gotten into the helicopters, landed in a landing strip, and waited for the private jet to finally arrive. What a fucking nightmare. They didn’t even know where we would fly to and had no pilot for another idea.

Roman tried to ease his father, only getting insulted. Poor Hugo had to be stuck in a car with him. You frantically were texting Jess for updates. All she could tell you was that Kendall was completely out of his mind right now. She thought he was having some kind of midlife crisis. You both passed over information to each other, worried about where this would end.

But Jess thought Kendall was justified, while you were severely on the fence, especially since Roman could potentially see jail time for this.

You decided to stay out of all the discourse, unsure if it was any of your business.

Logan had been scarily silent. He wasn’t yelling anymore. Just genuinely curious and delirious. He had decided to call Kendall. That’s when the threatening began, and he was back to regular Logan. You overheard everything, rushing to Roman. “Hey-uh- how you holding up?” You asked.  

“Uh- well, my brother is a drug addict mentally ill man who wants to ruin us and my dad an angry delirious….” Roman began to whisper so Logan would hear. But he cowered under his father. Everyone did. Roman just fed into Logan’s game and tried to discredit Kendall.

“Uhh- I don’t know if this could help… But I’ve been texting Jess all day and she’s been texting me things we could use against Kendall.” You prompted, catching Logan’s interest. He raised an eyebrow and asked you to read the texts out loud. You nodded quickly, grabbed your phone, and read the texts out loud. “Ken is off his meds….. ken is going fucking nuts again…. I think naomi is feeding this fucker coke again there’s no fucking way….. uhhhh….. ken def is bd…. He’s hitting rock bottom….” You tried to pick out the texts and even handed the phone to Hugo to read them. “We could use this. This could be a source. Someone close to Kendall. It could work.” Hugo admits to Logan. Logan tried to think it through before finally deciding. “Whatever we could use on the ungrateful fucking bastard.” Logan grumbled under his breath.

Logan walked off, leaving you, Roman and Shiv alone. “Uhh- I-I-I don’t know why I just fucking did that…” You deeply regretted your decision. You put Jess up there now. Jess was now involved. Holy fuck. Oh no. Fuck FUCK FUCK FUuuuucCKK. HOLY FUCK.

“It’s alright. We gotta bring this fucker down.” Roman tried to settle it. “No! I- I don’t know why I involved Jess. Holy fuck… Oh god…” You panicked. Shiv got up quickly, wrapping her arms around you. She shushed you and tried to keep you from spiraling. “Shh- hey this is business. I’m pretty sure Jess knows that. You’ll be alright.” Shiv tried to remind you. “I mean look at Tom. You basically cooked him alive twice and he still thinks you’re a great asset.” Shiv tried to remind you. You nodded, trying to reason with yourself. Maybe this could be fine. It’s not like Jess was going to hate you. Kendall needed Jess. He was acting crazy anyways. He was crazy. You’ve seen how he’s been for the past couple of weeks. He’s gone insane.

Staff had been making calls constantly, trying to find some way to keep this calm. Roman tried to settle his emotions with jokes or insulting Kendall while Shiv kept to herself, trying to soothe herself. You just texted Jess, she was your one way to always relax.

You were scared to see where this was going to end.

Notes: Did people not like the last chapter? I barely got any attention on it and I thought it was a pretty good one.

Chapter 17

[mxr1na]

✧˖°ʚ🍵ɞ♡Sicktember Day 1[I’m not hungover, I’m just sick]Jeckole Angst- Class of ‘09✧˖°ʚ🍓ɞ♡

A/N: Day 1 of @sicktember’s 2024 Event! I really had fun doing this even though it was a time crunch cause I was just aware of the event like yesterday, but it’s fine. 🌊🫧Info!🫧🌊 730~ words

Inadequate writing lol

See here! to participate in the Sicktember event!

See here! to find all my Sicketmber works!

Tw!- Heavy swearing, drug abuse + mention of vomit. Viewer discretion is advised.

Enjoy ^^

ˏˋ°•*⁀➷🚬ˏˋ°•*⁀➷🚬ˏˋ°•*⁀➷🚬ˏˋ°•*⁀➷🚬ˏˋ°•*⁀➷🚬ˏˋ°•*⁀➷ “Bitch why the fuck you haven’t been answering my calls? I know you don’t want to do the project, but I need this to graduate high school-” 

Jecka slams open Nicole’s bedroom door, an obscene amount of annoyance washed away as she spots the brunette rotting in her bed in the humid room, which feels like being in a gym locker room.

Somehow, Nicole still looks appealing to the male demographic even if she is sickly pale with eyebags so deep you could’ve mistaken them for potholes.

She coughs, and smiles wanly at her. “Hey Jecka,”

“Oh shit are you okay?” Immediately at Nicole’s side, Jecka looks at her, feeling the creases and wrinkles under Nicole’s eyes. Her ebbing annoyance spikes up again.

“Ugh, did you try that MySpace challenge, the one where they’d snort a foot long line of whatever drug they could find? You know people actually died from that shit right?”

“When did you keep up with the news? No, I’m just down with the flu. I’m not that crazy,”

“The Spanish Flu?! Yeah right, don’t fucking lie to me. No one looks this bad when having the flu. Where’s the stash?” 

“Well I am!” Nicole snaps. “I get sick easily.I’ve been convulsing and throwing up for hours, couldn’t you tell?” She points to the evident putrid vomit bucket, almost filled to the brim with puke beside the bed. 

“Ew, shouldn’t your mom, like, empty that?” Jecka scrunches up her face.

“No, she’s too busy stocking up her medicine cabinet with beta blocker to care… Speaking of, can you get me some Paracetamol from there? Everywhere hurts like hell,” 

Jecka sighs “Knowing you, you’d probably mix it with bedside stash of Xanax, crush it up and snort it, so no, stay hurting like hell,”

“Fuck you, whore,”

Jecka rolls her eyes and sits down on the side of the bed. 

“That being said, I’m really concerned about you Nicole. This life isn't good for you…”

“Who are you? My friend or a guidance counsellor that isn’t trying to fuck me?”

“Okay you know what? Fuck you, I’ll just tell you straight. You’re fucked up and need help, and not even the cool sexy way that people fantasise about. The way people are being put in the mental asylum fucked up. And I’m sorry I can’t be like you, or even want to be like you, bu-” 

“Oh don’t make me laugh. We’ve popped percs and have done drugs together, don’t act all high and mighty now, when you yourself is as bad as I am,”

Jecka hesitates, scrambling her brain to say something as equally smart as her statement only 10 seconds ago.

“Well- atleast I don’t take the illegal shit, just fucking around with kid stuff to blow off some steam! You know, the ones that literally every high schooler would take in high school?”

“Oh, just because what I use is illegal makes me worse than you huh? The outcome is the same, isn’t it? The reason we take it is the same, is it not? Using it to get off some steam. So when I use an alternative you don’t like, then, I’m in the wrong?” Nicole’s face is manic, insane, testing Jecka’s will to not just bend her back over to agree with Nicole, like she usually does.

“Stop trying to act all philosophical and shit to guilt me into agreeing with you. I’m just trying to help,” A tentative step backwards. Look at you Jecka! Making progress!

“I don’t need your fucking help Jessica.” Nicole chucks the bucket at Jecka, who swiftly dodges it, all but some vomit finding its new home on her shirt. 

After that, she just…

Snaps.

Jecka shoves Nicole, making her hit the headboard, earning a bunch of her hair being roughly pulled, almost ensuring her to be left with a bald patch on her scalp.

“What, the FUCK NICOLE? I WANT TO HELP BECAUSE WE ARE  FRIENDS! WHAT, JUST BECAUSE I’LL BEND MY BACK OVER FOR MOST THINGS YOU ASK ME TO DO MAKES ME YOUR LITTLE PLAYTHING? YOU’RE FUCKED UP AND NEED TO BE LOCKED UP!”

“I DONT NEED YOUR HELP, AND I NEVER DID. JUST FUCK OFF!”

Ouch. That must’ve stung. But if it hurt Jecka, no evidence of it showed on her face.

“OKAY I WILL” Jecka slams the door shut, a gross trail of footprints tailing behind her.

ˏˋ°•*⁀➷🚬ˏˋ°•*⁀➷🚬ˏˋ°•*⁀➷🚬ˏˋ°•*⁀➷🚬ˏˋ°•*⁀➷🚬ˏˋ°•*⁀➷

Mxr1na 2024. Do NOT copy, rewrite or claim work as your own. If you see my work elsewhere, please send an ask :3

[tynearshot]

Sai and Sebastian’s Past Relationships Part 1

Hi all! I just wanted to Give Sebastian and Sai more flavor and take you into their past relationships. Here’s Seb’s.

TW: Abusive relationships, bullying, censored slurs, sex, drugs and alcohol, family tension.

Sebastian:

Age 15.

It’s hard being a queer kid already, but being a queer kid in the boonies feels like living ten years in the past. Seb and the Pelican town kids didn’t have a highschool in their town, so they commuted via bus pretty far out. By this time, Seb was sure he was bisexual but didn’t dare explore that. He was already bullied: Skinny, vaguely non-white, Antisocial, mixed family and had his hair long, leaving room for all kinds of “you look like a girl” and f slurs. So, he was often found hiding out under the bleachers, where he met his first “boyfriend”. In quotes because this boyfriend was very much not out and would often throw out “I’m not into guys, I’m just into you”. The rising Gridball varsity player (not Alex He’s a couple years younger than Seb in my HC) and the pariah. A cute pair, set up to fail.

This “boyfriend” also would often stroke Sebastian’s hair and comment that he’d ‘make a very pretty girl’ or ‘I wish you were a girl so we could be open’. Sebastian never cared that he was called feminine, but he hated hearing that from his boyfriend. He hated feeling “wrong” to someone he cared about, but at least it was something, he often reasoned.

They had… a pretty traumatic break up. Rumors went around that the two hung out (they did much more than that, including being each other’s first in a lot of ways). And the grid ball team confronted Sebastian accusing him of trying to corrupt their grid ball star with his “f***** germs”. And who was there to back the bullies up and keep silent but Seb’s boyfriend. Pushed down, roughed up verbally and physically, Seb confronted his boyfriend privately: “why didn’t you stick up for me, why would you let them do that, don’t you know you’re bi too?! I thought you loved me”… Seb wanted to say all this. But instead went “If you ever try to talk to me, call me or even look at me ever again, I’ll let everyone who the real fucking f***** is…”

One of Seb’s lowest points. One day while crying he felt his hair in his hand and remembered how his boyfriend stroked the left side of his head. Disgusted, he promptly gave himself an asymmetrical haircut. Luckily he had Sam around to cheer him up with some goofs and Abby around to clown him, but trim/clean up his new haircut. A rough first love, but a first love all the same.

Age 18

Sebastian was tired of the “what will you do now?” “Don’t you know you’re wasting your potential?” questions he was getting from his Mom and stepdad. In a fit of emotions, he packed a bag and rode to the edges of ZuZu city. The night he arrived, he was so full of feelings and just wanted to be numb. Drinking, clubs, drugs, parties, sex with strangers, all things he wasn’t ready for. He couldn’t be the good kid his parents wanted and he couldn’t be a “delinquent” either. So who was he? It all came down as he crumpled into a ball on some random stoop. The stoop happened to be that of his next partner, Grad student, Hae-Jin.

Hae-Jin invited Seb in, and let him stay to figure himself out. And with Seb at his most vulnerable, it was a quick and passionate week long courtship. Hae-Jin was good to him. They even convinced him to go back home and try and reconcile with his family (that’s a story for another time). They then were long distance for a year and he’d go and visit them as much as he could afford the gas to. But as time went on, the relationship soured. Seb began to feel like a secret again. And he kinda was. Hae-Jin was 24 and offhandedly would mention “My friends’ll call me a cradle robber.” Seb began to resent that. “They had a problem with my age but not with sleeping with me?”

At the same time, Hae-Jin would often pressure Seb to move in. It got worse when Har-Jin would accuse Seb of being “immature” and “indecisive” about them moving in together. Sebastian began to feel like he had less and less agency in this relationship. How was that any different than what was going on at home? He thought Hae-Jin cared for him, that they belonged with each other. But he felt more and more that Hae-Jin just wanted to “have him.” No better than a pet.

Hae-Jin gave him an ultimatum “Stay with me or go back to the middle of nowhere”. He chose to go back, in his mind, better the devil you know.

Age 23 and Up

Seb wasn’t really interested in dating after Hae-Jin. He focused on programming, his bike, and trying to stay sane as he rots away in his basement. Maybe every blue moon on one of his long bike rides, he’d make out with some stranger outside a gas station, bike shop just to… I don’t know, feel something. But that got tiring. He was tired. Tired of feeling like he had no say in anything he wanted. He had none at home, in past romances. At that point, he didn’t even know if he wanted anything.

Enter : Sai Peachtree

Thanks if you read this far!✨ I’ll be writing Sai’s soon!