#and then gave the high school a nightclub

[thatoneluckybee]

TRAGIC: Girl discovers game she forgot about and hasn’t thought of in at least 2-3 years shut down kinda

[blkkizzat]

ꨄ︎『YakuzaBoss!Toji』ꨄ︎

YakuzaBoss!Toji x Black Reader

18+ Minors - DNI

CW: public sex, voyerism, cockwarming Song Inspo: Don't Tell - BIA

YakuzaBoss!Toji, who first spots you while you are Go-go dancing at one of the nightclubs he extorts by Sōkaiya frequents in Shinjuku. He didn’t recognize you. You were the new girl, a foreigner. Yet he couldn’t take his eyes off of your curvaceous body. The strobe lights seductively illuminated your dark skin as you rhythmically swayed to the beat on a high platform centered in the middle of the dance floor. You immediately caught his attention and of course you noticed him. How could you miss the exceptionally built, tall and handsome man seated in the prime spot of the VIP section? He had been shamelessly eye-fucking you since he arrived. You winked and blew a kiss at him before then proceeding to ignore him. Not even looking his way for a few more songs in favor of the men who gathered below you as they were the ones throwing you tips. But you could sense that his eyes never left you the entire time.

YakuzaBoss!Toji, who if anything is more intrigued by the attitude you are giving him despite recognizing his crime associations when your manager nervously forces you to dance on his table instead of letting you take your smoke break. He had requested you personally and whatever YakuzaBoss!Toji wanted at this club, YakuzaBoss!Toji received. Your frown however, quickly turns 180° into a sweet flirtatious smile when you see what must be over two dozen ¥10,000 notes he pulls out of his suit jacket. His iced out Audemars shimmers against the club lights as he throws them at your feet on the table. The exchange program at your University was not cheap and this nigga was clearly loaded, so you pulled out a few tricks. 

YakuzaBoss!Toji, who whistles at the sight of you. Your short pink pleated skirt lifted as you bent over to twerk for him. This gave him an up close look at your pussy print nearly bursting out of your tiny neon pink thong. The strip of neon fabric that struggled to cover your plump lips glowed in contrast against your dark skin in the strobe lit club. Your hand snakes up your legs to cover your pussy again as you lift back up and turn to smile at him as if to tease some modesty. You wink and blow him another kiss from your red cherry glossed lips. However, the eye contact makes you shiver as he looks like he would devour you raw right on the table.

YakuzaBoss!Toji, who tells you to sit and have a drink with him after a few songs, patting the spot next to him. You weren’t supposed to drink on shift nor sit with customers but you had a feeling your boss wouldn’t object. He seemed terrified of this man. The man seated beside you introduces himself as Toji and you tell him your name, Y/N. You impress him with how well you can throw back whisky shots and how good at conversational Japanese you are. Toji listens intently as you tell him about your school, exchange program, friends and how you started working here only this week to help cover tuition costs. Toji's gaze never stops lazily roaming your body and he rests a hand on your upper thigh. From the way the scar on his mouth twitches up into a smirk you can tell how much he enjoys making you squirm underneath his touch when he decides to give your soft thigh a firm squeeze. 

YakuzaBoss!Toji, who you have to remind even though you take tips, you are not a stripper and this is not that kind of club when he requests a lap dance. Yet again you quickly change your tune when he offers you a whopping ¥750,000. With a devilish smirk, he motions down to the black leather bag on the ground by his feet nearly overflowing with ¥10,000 notes. You couldn’t lie, you were a bit nervous. You were just a Go-go dancer, you had never given a lap dance before. But this man was offering you at least half your tuition for the next semester! You also couldn’t deny how dangerously attractive he was. Especially when Toji had his expensive black suit shirt unbuttoned halfway, giving you a glimpse at his massive pectorals in addition to the tattoos that started from his neck and traveled down further past his chest. At least he wasn’t some old decrepit ass geezer, right?

YakuzaBoss!Toji, who doesn’t know how to keep his hands to himself and his tattooed sleaved arms wrap around your body as you grind on him. Your hips swivel in figure 8s on his lap while you rock against him, your back to his chest. From the size of the bulge pressing into the crack of your ass you could tell he was huge and he wasn’t even fully hard yet. You bit your lip as his breath tickled your ear with crude praises and salacious suggestions of what he wanted to do to you. Your face grew warmer.

YakuzaBoss!Toji, whose large hands laced with gold rings now dig into your doughy hips. He squeezes them toyingly and kneads into them which elicits a soft moan from you. You felt his warm lips at the back of your neck and your stomach did a flip. This lap dance was supposed to seduce him. To wring this sexy rich pervert gangster for every yen he would give you. Nevertheless, his tight hold on your body combined with his scent of bergamot and cedarwood mixing with cigarettes, liquor and sweat made you dizzy. The alcohol in your system begins to hit you as well and only enhances the assault on your senses. You couldn’t help but react as you mewled against him.

YakuzaBoss!Toji, whose grin widens. You were slowly unraveling in his lap. Toji's ministrations on your body from there grew bolder as his hands greedily traversed your body. Rough hands settled to cup your tits over your matching neon pink bikini top as two fingers slipped into the sides of the thin material. Amused to find your nipples pierced, he harshly pinched your already hardened buds. You yelped as he rolled them between his fingers and tugged at the metal rings.

YakuzaBoss!Toji, who lets out a roar of laughter when his assault on your nipples has you jumping out of his lap and turning around to tell him off. Before you can really cuss him out though your face completely drops as you notice the sizable wet spot you left on the crotch of his pants. Following your gaze Toji grabs your wrist before you can run away from him in embarrassment. He tells you with a smug tone he won't pay you shit if you leave him now. You nod and swallow hard as his other hand rubs his now fully hard cock straining against the spot you soiled. He lets his fingers linger on the stain before he brings it up to his face for a whiff and comments on how sweet your cunt smells leaking on his dick. The mood shifts though as he asks you with a dangerous edge to his voice exactly how you plan on repaying him for allowing your slutty pussy ruin his brand new Armani suit?

YakuzaBoss!Toji, who you end up cockwarming in the middle of the dark but crowded VIP section. Your tiny pink neon thong soaked with your juices was pushed to the side as his wide girth split you completely open. Fuck, its too much! Your mind was racing too fast to process how exactly you got here but all you could think about was the sting from the intensity of the stretch. You weren’t fully prepared to take on his size despite how wet you were. “Come on mama,” Toji teased as his hands went under your skirt to spread your cheeks so you could sink lower onto him. “I know you can take dick better than this.” 

YakuzaBoss!Toji, whose cock smooshed up against your core as gravity forced your cervix down further smashing his fat tip. It was becoming difficult to take steady breaths. You crossed your legs together as you tried to tilt forward away from him to lift up and relieve some pressure. His fingers traced the slight bulge that protruded on your stomach as he pulled you back to an upright position and fully seated on his cock. He gave you explicit instructions to be perfectly still and not move an inch. You couldn’t help but pant, tongue peaking out of your glossed lips as your body started to crave a taste of friction despite the very public place you were in, it was torture. 

YakuzaBoss!Toji, whose turn it is to now completely ignore you (he made sure you knew this was payback for earlier) as you whined and cooed for him to reconsider. You would be good for him. He only responds by asking you to remind him of how many songs you ignored him for and doubles the amount before he will even consider letting you move an inch. It was your punishment and Toji made sure to relish in giving it to you as he took calls, barked orders at his men on standby and even brought others to his table to conduct business. He made another waitress come over and prattle off a long list of drink specials while he flirted with her and ordered you another shot of whisky. His thick cock buried in your pussy all the while. You were annoyed at his ignoring you and his flirting but just thankful that from this position no one could see him inside of you. 

YakuzaBoss!Toji, who as if sensing your fears, manspread with you still full of him. Your legs fell to the outside of his thighs and dangled as your feet no longer touched the ground. The sudden movement had you gasping as his cock shifted inside your stretched walls. You fell back fully against his chest as you heaved. The low set table did nothing to help cover you. Your short skirt that barely reached the bottom of your ass standing and had your cheeks peeking out when you sat, gathered around your upper thighs with you spread on him. It was dark in the club but it wouldn’t take more than a lingering second look from someone passing by to see your cock stuffed cunt on display. The fabric bunched on your thighs only hid the top view partially. If the people he was interacting with knew what was going on, they gave no sign. In fact they barely acknowledged your presence at all which either meant they were familiar with him pulling these kinds of stunts or they knew better than to concern themselves with anything beyond what he asked of them.

YakuzaBoss!Toji, who chuckled when you reminded him the 8th song had just ended and you only ignored him for 4. “This messy cunt can wait for one more song can’t she?” Toji wanted to make sure as many of those sniveling losers that you ignored him for now saw what you looked like impaled on his dick. You nearly screamed when his heavy ringed hand came down with a firm smack to your clit. He hushed you with two fingers shoving them deep in your mouth that you couldn’t help but gag and slobber on them. Your eyes rolled back into your head as he would give your cunt a firm tap at random intervals. It made your pussy contract around him and you felt Tojis grunts fan across your neck. “Shhh mamas... You wouldn’t want to make it even harder for the people around here to ignore how well I’m stretching this pretty pussy, now would you princess?”

YakuzaBoss!Toji, who merely snapped his fingers and as if materializing out of nowhere, your manager came rushing over, nearly stumbling on himself. 

“Y-Yes Mr. Fushiguro, what can I get for you sir?”

“This girl… Y/N.”

Toji gave your pussy another pat and it had you shaking as you turned your gaze away from your manager who you couldn't bare to look at directly.

“She no longer works at this club. Understood?” He told your manager authoritatively.

Although your manager didn’t want to lose his best new girl he wouldn’t dare question a directive from YakuzaBoss!Toji.

“Y-Yes, sir! U-understood, Mr Fushiguro sir. I will remove Y/N from the schedule immediately”, your manager replied with a bow before getting himself the fuck out of dodge as Toji waved him off.

“T-Toji- whafhefck” you mumble despite his fingers in your mouth still.

You couldn’t afford to lose this job.

“Hm, you wanna work here?” Toji questioned you running his free hand across your ribs. The calloused fingers contrasted with the gentleness of his touch yet still managed to give you butterflies.

“Or.. would you rather work for me Y/N?” 

There's an edge to Toji’s voice as his free hand lifts you a bit before he slams you back down onto his cock hard with a thrust of his hips.

“To-jisjhi!!!!” 

Your cries were still drowned out by his fingers as drool began dripping out down the sides of your mouth and down his forearm. Tears finally broke free and you trembled as your heels scraped the outsides of his legs. Your poor stretched walls burned at the sudden movement, making you near feral for more as a white ring of your juices and precum formed at the base of his cock and trickled down his balls, staining his pants even further.

“I assure you the pay and the benefits are better.” he continues to roll his hips while your eyes roll back into your head.

“Whaddya say, Y/N?”

Toji’s fingers slide out of your mouth to give you an opportunity to speak but you’ve gone all but non verbal now. You can only babble incoherently as your tongue fully lulls out of your mouth.  

“Dunno mamas, doesn’t sound like you are too interested...”  Toji teased with a huge shit-eating grin looking down at you.

You turn your head up to pout at him and your hips roll in tandem with his in a slow wine. Reaching behind you to bring his head down onto a nasty sloppy kiss. You were so horny you could combust and no longer cared who saw you, you just wanted to be fucked. It’s not like anyone here would stop YakuzaBoss!Toji from doing what he wanted with you.

Toji broke the kiss, slurping up the saliva that lingered between your lips and his.

“I should take that as a yes then?”

Cock drunk and stupefied you eagerly nod your head.

YakuzaBoss!Toji, who shifted as his arms slipped underneath your legs and brought them up behind your head into a full nelson position. There would be no hiding your cunt now as you felt multiple eyes in the room dart towards and away from you again. 

You whimpered in protest yet Toji felt your cunt gush around him at the thrill of it.

“Don’t be like that mamas. I can tell from the way you are creaming on me this slutty pussy loves an audience.”

© ʙʟᴋᴋɪᴢᴢᴀᴛ 2023. ᴀʟʟ ʀɪɢʜᴛꜱ ʀᴇꜱᴇʀᴠᴇᴅ. ᴘʟᴇᴀꜱᴇ ᴅᴏ ɴᴏᴛ ꜱᴛᴇᴀʟ, ᴛʀᴀɴꜱʟᴀᴛᴇ, ᴄᴏᴘʏ ᴏʀ ᴄʜᴀɴɢᴇ ᴀɴʏ ᴏꜰ ᴍʏ ᴡᴏʀᴋꜱ. ᴛʜɪꜱ ɪɴᴄʟᴜᴅᴇꜱ ꜰɪᴄꜱ, ᴅʀᴀʙʙʟᴇꜱ, & ɢʀᴀᴘʜɪᴄꜱ. ᴛʜᴇʏ ᴀʀᴇ ᴀʟʟ ᴍᴀᴅᴇ ʙʏ ᴍᴇ ᴜɴʟᴇꜱꜱ ᴏᴛʜᴇʀᴡɪꜱᴇ ꜱᴛᴀᴛᴇᴅ. ᴛʜᴀɴᴋ ʏᴏᴜ.

A/N: I know I said next was Geto and cockwarming but this idea popped into my head and I HAD to write it. This is also inspired by this nightclub I went to in Shinjuku during my own study aboard to see my friend from school DJ where I met 2 gangsters (they were in red sweat suits so I don't think Yakuza). They had matching tats from the neck down and were fine af. Unfortunately that was towards the beginning of my trip and unlike Y/N here my conversational Japanese then was ass (and they didn't speak a lick of English) so nothing came from that. I fumbled the bag badly yo. BUT I CAN WRITE THIS AND LIVE OUT MY FANTASIES WITH TOJI LOL.

New to this writing shit so please reblog to spread if you can but likes and comments are also appreciated all the same!

Edit 9/20: minor errors fixed!

[01zfan]

rotten valentine | p. wb

wonbin x reader | 4.5k words

happy (late) valentines day!

contains: friends with benefits situation, red flag wonbin, he’s kinda toxic, this is like the evil version of necklace

the fourteenth day in the month of february came and went for you each year. it wasn’t always a normal day in your life—it used to be an event. writing every single one of your classmates names on a note with candy attached and receiving what seemed like thousands back. the excitement and magic of the day devolved from elementary school, turning into the occasional candy gram you would get from your friends in junior high. by the time you got to college, valentine’s day had just become another day. 

you were well into adult life now, and your life was drained of all romance. you forgot what it was like to kiss someone you were dating and your last serious relationship felt like a distant memory. it felt like romance was make believe, something manufactured in movie studios to make profit. you had suitors and you had the dating apps, but nothing sparked that same feeling you found yourself chasing late at night.

wonbin was someone you yearned for. he came into your life like a meteor, crashing on the surface of your mind and killing all potential thoughts you had of finding someone else. 

you saw him first at a party, the dimly lit room failed to hide the way he looked at you. his gaze pierced through the sea of people and you found yourself thinking about the scenes in the movies. this was the part where wonbin came up to you and cracked jokes with you all night, woo’ing you and calling you pretty. you rationalized that wonbin didn’t have his script when he unceremoniously came up to you, pulling your attention way from your friends. you followed him like a moth to a flame deeper to the dance floor, where the music was so loud you could barely hear him. he took a sip from his cup, letting it rest in his hand. you barely had wonbin’s attention as he leaned over to request a song to the dj.

after making the request wonbin leaned against the wall and continued to drink. the previously muted yellow light that made you feel like the party was shot on film turned to a deep red. it felt almost choreographed as as wonbin’s eyes raked down your body. in any other instance you would’ve been disgusted by a man looking at you with so much lust. but you felt proud that you had piqued his interest. you didn’t want to lose him. 

the music changed to the song wonbin requested and he smirked. you found that he donned that look anytime someone did what he wanted, so smug like he knew no one could deny him. it was the same smugness that made his eyes stay on your chest as he took another sip of his drink.

“did you come alone?” wonbin asked.

you looked behind to your friends that kept a careful eye on you. you’re shocked wonbin didn’t notice them. maybe he was too caught up in you to notice.

“i came with my friends.” you said.

the lights started flashing red, making the party around you feel like a nightclub. people started dancing to the song more frantically than before, moving from gentle sways to jumping on the makeshift dance floor. some people bumped into you, making the drink in your cup raise over the rim and splash on your hand. wonbin remained untouched on the wall a look of amusement on his face as he looked at the partygoers have fun because of his song suggestion. the dj gave him a nod of acknowledgement and you could see it go directly to his head. the confidence made you dizzy just like his perfume did when he beckoned you to come to his corner. you placed a hand on the wall to steady yourself and wonbin brought a hand to your hip. his hand was comforting just like the smell of aged spice that flooded your nose. wonbin looked at you for a moment before leaning to your ear.

“wanna ditch your friends?” he asked. 

his amusing smile didn’t waiver, his curled up lips so close to your face you felt it on the shell of your ear. you knew he knew your answer. you didn’t even have to nod as you turned around to get through the dancing crowd. your mind was buzzing with alcohol as the beautiful man followed behind you. your friends had joined the cluster of partygoers as you walked up the stairs. they couldn’t even see you through the haze of smoke clouds and flashing lights. if you were in your right mind you would’ve joined them, squeezing your sweaty body through everyone till you made it to your group. but nothing else mattered to you except for getting wonbin alone, and wonbin’s hand on your ass was guiding you there.

wonbin’s collision with you that night wiped away all common sense you had in regards to him. if you had half a mind you would’ve told him you don’t fuck strangers at parties or fuck on beds that aren’t your own. but any rational thought was out the window when it came to wonbin. anything to feel the euphoria of being pressed into the sheets and hearing him moan because of you. his sloppy passion from his tipsy state paired with his precise thrusts made your throat raw from your cries. you had never felt that way in your life. that’s why each time he hit you with his late night messages you responded. it always started with a text, so non assuming and casual it made your head hurt.

you up?

you hated that your life had come to this, chasing after someone so bad for you. it had gotten to the point that you couldn’t bring wonbin up anymore in your friend’s presence, visible aggravation showing on their faces. you vividly remember when your friend gave you a wake up call. you should’ve listened, she wasn’t wrong when she told you about wonbin. he was hot and cold, only reached out to you when he needed to feel something wrapped around him, and took advantage of your lonliness. you nodded your head and felt the sting of tears as she comforted you through acceptance. 

the intervention was no use; you went back to him that night. you held strong for an hour, until wonbin attached an i need u to the end of his initial text. you couldn’t resist going back to wonbin when he said he needed you. you had gotten so used to seeing people kiss in movies that you started thinking kisses tasted like stale popcorn and artificial sweetener. but wonbin’s kisses tasted like vanilla and his lips felt like clouds. how could you not go back to him?

it didn’t help that wonbin knew it was wrong to play with your emotions. he wasn’t a bad person by any means, just someone who needed constant temporary company. he did all he could for the girls he had sex with and communicated what he was looking for before the arrangements started. but you were different. you were innocent and naive, still believing that the romance in movies was something obtainable. wonbin liked that about you, he believed the fact that you were a hopeless romantic made you better in bed. it made you ride him even if your legs were burning and it made you relax your throat and let your tongue go limp so you could take all of him. it also made you come back to him over and over again. it was almost too easy getting you to make the late night drive to his apartment. 

wonbin tried to ween himself off of you for your own sake, but you didn’t let it last long. it was usually wonbin to text you first, and he thought that you would just move on with your life if he never reached out to you again. so when the time came around that wonbin would send the infamous text, he just masturbated to get sex off his mind and went to bed. but while he was sleeping soundly you were tossing and turning, checking your phone every ten minutes waiting for your bat signal. 

you hated to admit it felt like you were at your lowest those three days you had no contact with wonbin. holding out and not texting him was the last bit of power you had in your dynamic with him. your mind rationalized that as long as it was wonbin texting you, you had some semblance of control. but you willingly tipped the scale on day three, telling wonbin you wanted to see him. the way he read your message immediately made your heart swell, the three bubbles in the gray text made you regret everything. it was like you were taking the biggest risk of your life waiting for a response from him. 

you were lucky that your risk played out well for you that night. you relinquished the last authority you had to wonbin by telling you that you needed him, but he made it up to you when you showed up at his door. the way he moaned your name and marked your neck made you truly believe that you were his. wonbin fucking you into the mattress made you believe that romance movies and couples holding hands had nothing on this.

when you woke up next to wonbin the next morning, nothing had changed. he was still uninterested in getting involved romantically, only offering you a tired goodbye as you got up from his bed. 

after that, you knew you had nothing else to gain from your relationship with wonbin. it never stopped you from putting on your coat and driving over to him, or knocking on his door. but that didn’t stop you from opening your phone when he sent you his text.

sorry for going ghost

busy week at work.

you scoffed and rolled your eyes like you didn’t miss him. atleast he had the decency to try and explain the situation. you knew that it was the truth—wonbin didn’t care enough to lie to you.

couldn’t stop thinking about my favorite girl though

you just wish wonbin wasn’t so fucking awful. you wish he didn’t know it either. he knew how awful he was for calling you his favorite girl even though you were on his backburner all the time. he knew how awful he was for hitting all your spots just right, for knowing your body so well within a few minutes. and he was so fucking rotten for knowing how to get you to show up at his door late at night.

you walked up the stairs to his apartment after he buzzed you in. you wish you could say you weren’t tingling with excitement going up the stairs. knowing that wonbin wanted to spend time with you regardless of the circumstance made you happy. it was hard to not believe you weren’t the most important person in wonbin’s life when he looked at you that way when he answered the door.

the view before you was shocking—wonbin stopped trying to be sweet about your hookups a long time ago. he had ditched the casual clothes and started answering in just his boxers and a white tee to let you know what his intentions were. he stopped leading you to the couch to uselessly chat you up and ask questions he didn’t care to hear the answers to. now all wonbin did was answer the door and immediately lead you to the bedroom, expecting you to ditch your clothes on the way. but this wonbin answered with a gummy smile and kissed you passionately in the hallway of closed apartment doors.

”i missed you.” wonbin said sweetly when he pulled away.

you were too busy staring at him with wide eyes to answer. he pulled you into his small apartment, closing the door and locking it. wonbin took in. your shocked expression and laughed—he was so fucking awful.

you hated that wonbin’s apartment was tidy. you believed that if you could find just one disgusting thing about him you would be able to take off the rose tinted glasses, but his apartment was even cleaner than yours. it was always dimly lit but you could make out the decorations and see the color palette he was trying to achieve. you could tell a musician lived here, from the edited sheet music that laid on the coffee table and his guitar resting on the couch. you had dreams of him leading you to the living room and playing you a song that made him think of you. but you had to settle for wonbin leading you to his bedroom.

wonbin walked to the edge of his bed while you took off your shoes and jacket. usually guests take them off at the front door, but you weren’t given the privilege to put your things on the coat rack or your shoes by the front door. you had to settle for throwing your jacket on the back of his chair and your shoes by the door. you don’t know wonbin was like that, but you’re sure finding out would’ve only made you feel awful.

after taking off your coat and shoes, you walked around wonbin’s bed to him. his head followed you all the way from his door, watching you with careful eyes.

you stood in front of him, playing with the ends of his hair. wonbin wrapped his arms around your waist, pressing his face into your stomach. it was hard to not feel somber in these moments, with him being so touchy. you had seen wonbin in the mornings when you’d sneak away, hair splayed out on the pillow as the sun caught on his eyelashes. he looked so pure in those moments, nothing like the man that put you through emotional hell. his lips were soft even in the morning. even though wonbin was the devil in some aspects you couldn’t deny he wasn’t an angel, especially in the morning when his face was the first thing you woke up to. he was rotten but also so sweet, awful but so good. he was an enigma in your life, and it was a shame he didn’t want to be yours. but maybe if you sucked his dick good enough you’d change his mind.

wonbin continued to look at you as you got on your knees before him, slotting yourself between his legs. wonbin lifted his hips off the bed to take off his boxers, letting them pool at his ankles. his dick was hard and heavy in your hand. you rested your head on his thigh, bringing his tip to touch your tongue. wonbin propped himself up on his arms after taking a look at you, he knew you knew what to do. he ran a hand through his hair and let out a sigh when you took in as much as you could, using your hand to occupy the space you couldn’t reach.

you head still rests on his thigh when he brings himself upright again to look at you. you want to make sure he’s watching when you relax your throat and touch your nose to his stomach. wonbin grunts now, bucking his hips up in the slightest way to make you gag.

you take wonbin from your mouth to try and regain your composure. the hold he has on your hair tilts your head up. wonbin looks at your teary eyes and swollen lips. his dick pulses in your hand as he looks at how ruined you are. inside and out, all because of him.

“you’re so fucking pretty.” wonbin says.

you whimper at his compliment and take him back into your mouth after licking a long strip down the shaft that makes wonbin hiss. he’s cruel and enjoyes withholding the sounds he truly wants to make. he believes it makes you work harder. when he hits the back of your throat he lets you hear a whimper and when your throat vibrates as you gag on him he moans. 

“so good,” wonbin whispers. “almost there.”

and you are so good. wonbin has hands in your hair is just for show. he doesn’t have to push your head or buck into your mouth to get what he needs to cum down your throat. you just do it because you like him more than you should. the premise of being close also gives you the vigor to continue, ignoring the pain in your knees from kneeling on the ground and the soreness of your jaw. it makes you flick your tongue over wonbin’s tip, and when his hand suddenly tightens in your hair he cums without warning. wonbin’s legs stiffen under your palms, and he lifts his hips up slightly to meet your lips.

the only time your defiant is when it comes to swallowing wonbin’s cum. you never turn down eating it but each time your eyes switch from lust to disgust. you take it all because wonbin wants you to, but each time you stick out your tongue and make a bleugh sound.

“you need to drink some fucking water,” you grimace. “your cum tastes like toxic waste.”

that’s the only peak of your strong personality that wonbin gets to see. any other time you are so docile and pliant, saying your yes’s and please’s and thank you’s. you are more mysterious than him sometimes, the way you successfully hide so much of your personality from wonbin. maybe he just doesn’t care enough to pick more at your surface to find out. but maybe if you knew how to use the mysteriousness to your advantage wonbin would be more intrigued by you. regardless, you always go back to the same docile fuck buddy when wonbin lifts your chin up to look at him.

“you like eating it though, don’t you?” wonbin says simply.

you mindlessly nod you head and your eyes are filled with the same look of adoration before he came in your mouth. it makes wonbin equal parts turned on and smug, his limp dick already working back up to a semi.

wonbin moves back on the bed and you get up from the floor to follow him. you stumble onto the sheets, doing everything in your power to not show how stiff your knees are. you crawl towards wonbin sitting against the headboard with that stupid smirk on his face. he looks down at your chest. the way your breasts hang freely makes him want to put them in his mouth, or hold them tightly until you squirm.

when you’re leaning against the headboard wonbin hands you a water bottle resting on his bedside table. the bottle has collapsed in on itself slightly and had condensation inside. you thank him anyway for the room temperature water—it’s just what you need because wonbin is the one who gave it to you. you finish the bottle, but the taste of him still remains on your tongue.

“thank you.” you say

wonbin still looks at you as you place the water on the other bedside table. he smiles at how shy you suddenly are, waiting for him to initiate the next part of the night. something about you makes his libido increase tenfold. his dick is already hard and straining against his lower stomach.

“how do you want it? want me to be romantic?” wonbin said sarcastically.

you looked at him in confusion, not sure where the second comment came from. did you let something slip again in the heat of the moment? did he pay attention to your instagram story that was indirecting him?

whatever wonbin meant, it was long forgotten when he leaned into you to kiss you again. it was sick how good he was at kissing, even more sick that passionate kisses meant nothing to him. someone should only kiss their lovers the way wonbin was kissing you. he was so gentle pressing his open mouth against yours, pressing his tongue against yours so gently. you have never been kissed this way you’re entire life, it was twisted that wonbin expected you to not catch feelings by the way he carefully touched your face and didn’t pull away from you until you lost your breath.

he was rotten for treating you like glass. when you had sex with other men, they would tear off your clothes impatiently to fuck you as soon as possible, but wonbin always took his time. he would pull down the waistband of your sweatpants while still kissing you, all you had to do was lift your hips. he never took off your panties with your pants either, always giving your under garments extra care. he knew how to take off your bra with one hand and shimmy you out of your panties with the other, pulling away from your lips to sigh contently when you were completely naked for him.

“so gorgeous.” wonbin said, almost like he couldn’t believe it.

wonbin guided your body to straddle his hips, letting your pussy rest on his hard dick. he enjoyed this part the most, being able to feel how wet you were without being inside. he liked how shy you got sitting on top of him, swiveling your hips to spread your slick on his shaft. wonbin liked that you were just as dirty as he was and that you were able to adapt to what he wanted so quickly. he looked down to where you two were almost connected then looked up to you. wonbin liked the glint you had in your eyes, like you were waiting for him to say something.

“wanna ride me?” wonbin asked.

you nodded and lifted your hips up. wonbin maintained eye contact as he grabbed his tip and used the knuckle of his finger to rub down your folds, until he found your entrance. he let go of his dick and his hands found your hips. wonbin looked to you, waiting for you to give him permission to slowly pull you down to him. but you took matters into your own hands, sliding your body down his shaft slowly.

wonbin couldn’t stop his moan from coming out, and you could only look down at his face for a moment before feeling heat creep on your face. you let out a tiny moan and collapsed your body down to tuck your face into wonbin’s neck. you also gave up trying to ride him, making him thurst up into you.

“so cute.” wonbin said breathlessly.

he pressed your lips to his absentmindedly while he continued to fuck up into you. you don’t know why wonbin kept craning his neck awkwardly to see your face that rested on his shoulder. you don’t know why he was making himself uncomfortable just to see your face contort in pleasure. you had spent so many other times having sex with wonbin while your face stayed buried in his neck. this was to personal, especially when he used his hand that was holding your ass down to tilt your head up. it felt like wonbin’s blown out eyes were looking straight into your soul, watching you be consumed by him completely.

seeing wonbin so enthralled by you was what brought you to your peak. your moans pierced through your throat, and wonbin finally let you go to your safe place in his neck. while your body went stiff from pleasure, his slow speed increased significantly. the sound of his skin slapping against yours filled the room and your hands on his shoulder dug into his skin for stability. he was awful for letting the pain from your nails only spur him on. he didn’t stop while you clenched around him uncontrollably, or when your moans turned into babbles and cries. wonbin wrapped an arm around you and held you close, still thrusting up into you.

“take it baby—fuckkkkk.” wonbin groaned.

you could feel the sudden heat inside of you and wonbin pulling you even closer. his hips stilled and you milked him, both of you basking in the heat and electricity of the moment. it was you pulling away from wonbin now, looking into his face that he pressed against the pillows. you raised your hips up before gliding back down, feeling white molten lava seeping out of you. wonbin got whiny almost immediately, wincing from the overstimulation and the feeling of you still seizing around him. you loved this part the most, seeing him completely at your mercy. you basked in the thought of his other girls walking in and seeing you two like this. like you were the dominant one, the one cooing at him that it’s okay. but you were reminded who called the shots when wonbin used his strength to still your hips and pull himself of of you. 

you rolled off of him and caught your breath, wonbin did the same but took significantly longer than usual. the next time you inevitably end up on top of him you’ll have to do the same thing again.

while wonbin composed himself you walked to the bathroom and peed, cleaning up the wet patch on your thighs when wonbin pulled out. the worst part was after everything when you were in the bathroom alone, contemplating if your relationship with wonbin had changed. fuck buddies didn’t fuck like that you would always think to yourself. but then wonbin would come in and have that same smug look from the party. you were reminded who you were and who wonbin was and what your relationship was. it was painful, but it was necessary. you got up from the toilet wordlessly and flushed so wonbin could do the same.

you go back to his room to put your clothes on and head for the door. you’re sure wonbin would come out of the bathroom and not spare a second thought about the empty space on his bed. it was for the better. you decided in that moment you would leave his apartment and never come back—this time you were serious. maybe you would make something of your day tomorrow to celebrate your freedom. you thought that rotting in your bed and regretting your decision about wonbin seemed way more appealing than going on a walk or watching a movie. when you turned the doorknob to get out you heard wonbin’s sink turn off and the sound of him speed walking through his apartment.

you looked at the wonbin, eyes flitting to his marked neck and bed head. he still had sleep in his eyes when he took your head in his hands. you gave into him completely as he bent your head down. he pressed his warm lips to your forehead. it caught you by surprise the sudden affection. it kept you frozen in place as he pinched your cheeks, smiling as he opened the door.

“happy valentines day.” wonbin said while opening the door fully.

you are frozen at his door as he kisses your knuckles. you had forgotten what day it was and that the fourteenth of february was supposed to mean something. you wordlessly walk out his door and wonbin closes it behind you, walking back to his bedroom to go back to sleep.

[ginnsbaker]

In Losing Grip On Sinking Ships (4/?)

Chapter summary: The night at the club - from your perspective. And we find out whether you came to the opening of Wanda's cafe or not

Chapter word count: 6.3k+

Pairing: Wanda Maximoff x Fem!Reader, Yelena Belova x Fem!Reader (heavy on this chapter)

Tags: fluff if you squint (did I just say fluff?)

AO3 | Masterlist 

Next Chapter: Five

Taglist: @blackluthxr | @esposadejoyhuerta | @secretbackrooms | @justgotlizzied , @casquinhaa | @marvelwomen-simp | @sunsol-22 | @wandanatlov3r | @kyaraderuwez

-

Four

The night at the club - from your perspective

The club Clint chooses for Natasha’s send-off is a drug deal away from being sleazy, despite its popularity. It’s significantly larger too, than the typical nightclubs you’ve been to in the past; there's a mezzanine for VIP members and celebrity guests; three bars are stationed at the corners of the main room, selling beverages based on a price bracket–with the most expensive ones near the steps leading to the VIP area. In here, you find all kinds of party-goers–from preppy high school kids with their daddy’s money and fake IDs to aging business men looking to score a high-end escort or a B-list actress in need of a sponsor for their lavish lifestyle. 

And then there’s you–newly single, unemployed, nearing your 30s and rooming with your best friend. Just with how you’re dressed–a white, velvet sleeveless cowl neck top and skinny jeans–you wonder what other people think of you, what backstory they’ve concocted in their heads. Whatever it is, it couldn’t be worse than your actual reality.

“How did you find this place?” you ask Clint after he returns with shots of tequila to start the night with.

He glances between you and then Natasha, who finishes her shot in a single gulp the second she snatches it from Clint’s fingers.

“Did you not see how big this place is from outside? It’s hard to miss the biggest nightclub in New York, Y/N.” His breath fans over your face, and all it takes is one whiff to know he’s already had some pre-party drinks in his system. 

“I prefer the dive bars we used to frequent.” you say, grimacing as the tequila burns down your throat. It immediately warms the middle of your chest, leaving you thirstier than before.

Clint raises his eyebrows at you incredulously. “We’re not here to talk and catch-up. We’re here to get trashed because our girl right here,” he playfully puts an arm around Natasha so she’s snug against his side. “Is returning to the front lines.”

“Damn right!” Natasha yells, raising her empty shot glass to no one in particular. She’s deadly as she looks for what she’s capable of–which you know very little about–and yet, astoundingly lightweight when it comes to holding her liquor. It wouldn’t take three more rounds to render her thoroughly incapacitated.

Clint looks so smug, and it doesn’t take a second more for you to realize that he gave Natasha a double. You weakly jab his side with your elbow and then proceed to swipe his credit card from his back pocket, making sure he at least pays for everything tonight.

“Come on,” you say, reaching for Natasha’s hand. “We can’t have you drinking on an empty stomach or you won’t last until midnight.”

Natasha shakes her head with a pout. “Gotta last much, much, much later than that.”

“For sure. But first, let’s–”

“Where are you taking my sister?” A voice behind you asks in a demanding but playful manner. You feel it being said right in your ear, causing goosebumps all over the back of your neck.

Whipping your head around, you find Yelena smiling at you as she staggers a step back to avoid you accidentally kissing her cheek in the process.

There’s tension from the last time you saw each other, and it becomes instantly obvious that it hasn’t gone away the moment you take in her plunge cocktail dress and the rose-colored smirk she has on. You don’t really mean to, but it’s easy to make the conclusion that anyone would easily find her the most attractive person in the room. 

“Little sis,” Natasha exclaims in barely contained excitement, hastily enveloping Yelena in a bear hug. “You came!”

“Hey,” you breathe out, failing to stop your gaze from straying below her collarbone and landing on her proud cleavage. 

“Hey, stranger.” she greets you back, and you catch the mischievous smile on her lips despite having half of her face squashed against Natasha’s shoulder. Yup. She’s definitely noticed.

“See you around, kid. I’ll take care of this one.” Clint says, already pulling Natasha away before she can suffocate Yelena further.

Helplessly, you watch Clint and Natasha disappear into the crowd, anxiety crippling your ability to decide what you’re going to do or where you’re going next.

Yelena lightly taps you on the shoulder to get your attention–which, for all intents and purposes–is already hers to begin with. You just don’t want to be too obvious about it.

“My sweater.” she simply says with an unreadable expression when you turn to address her.

“Sorry?”

“You still have it?”

And then it comes back to you. Your ruined shirt, borrowing’s Yelena sweater, Yelena joking about her first sexual experience, that happened to be with you–

You can always blame the tequila for the way your cheeks flush at the memories. 

Biting your lip, you say, “The truth is I forgot to mail it. With everything that’s happened–”

“It’s okay. Nat just recently told me the stuff you went through the past few months,” Yelena cuts in, and the softness in her gaze gives you a sense of calm. “Do you, maybe, want to drink about it? First round’s on me.” she reluctantly offers.

“Nah,” you dismiss her intentions to pay, as you hold up Clint’s Visa. “All our rounds on this.”

Yelena orders a frozen margarita, while you opt for a more basic choice of gin and tonic. You find yourselves sitting closely together, sharing a couch with random strangers in the most relatively secluded part of the club.

“So, what exactly did Natasha tell you?” you ask, letting your index finger dance along the rim of your glass. 

Yelena takes a sip of her drink and considers how she should relay what she knows. 

In the end, she goes for the unfiltered narrative, given that there’s really no way of making it sound less severe than it is. “That your wife cheated on you with her student.” 

You offer her a wan smile and clink your drinks togethers. “Cheers.”

“I’m sorry, Y/N. I can’t imagine what it feels like to be betrayed like that by the person you–I assume–trust the most.” Yelena says after some time. She’s not used to being the one to give consolation, especially with you. Growing up, you were a steady, ever-reliable presence in her life; her place of solitude throughout the pains of her youth. It’s pathetic how she’s wishing she had gone through the same ordeal if it meant she could give you the comfort and understanding you needed. 

“Me too. I don’t even remember how I was able to survive what came right after taking your sister’s call that day. Did Nat mention that I almost killed the kid? He’s only a little younger than you are.” you say.

“Yeah. It’s fucked up. But it doesn't compare to what she did.” Yelena tells you with a pained expression. “You’re okay now, though. Right?”

“I’m,” You search for the right word that perfectly describes your monotonous routine and lack of a meaningful purpose. But you figure that there’s no need for Yelena–or anyone for that matter–to worry about you. Life’s easier to live without the concern of disappointing people who care about you. “I’m better than I was yesterday.”

Yelena nods empathically, and places a hand on your knee. “I’m glad to hear that.”

Your smile is small, but genuine. Clearing your throat, she quickly puts her hand back over her lap. 

“Y/N?” Yelena starts.

“Yes?”

Yelena, for all her boldness and tenacity, has to put down her glass lest it accidentally slips from her shaking hands. 

“There’s something I want to say, and you can’t talk unless I say so. Understood?” she says as calmly as she can manage.

“Am I free to react?” A smile plucks at the corner of your mouth, eyes twinkling with mirth. 

Yelena has grown into a woman so different from when she was just Natasha’s little sister. She carries an air of sophistication, and from what you can tell, sasses her way out of difficult situations and knows what and how to get what she wants. Which is why it’s refreshing to see her display glimpses of the shy girl who spent her summers burning through classic literature in the public library. 

A husky laugh escapes Yelena’s throat. “As long as it’s a good reaction.” she says.

You playfully roll your eyes at her. 

“But seriously, hear me out,” Yelena breathes steadily through her nose. “First of all, I want to apologize about what happened when you were at my apartment.

“I didn’t know why I brought up losing my virginity to you, and it was terribly awkward–for me especially because the look on your face was…” Yelena trails off, pointedly avoiding your curious eyes. “It’s like you were recalling a bad memory–a memory that’s dear to me. And to be honest, it hurt me a bit.”

“Yelena–”

Yelena shushes you with a finger. “Let me finish. I was hurt, but I understood that I crossed a line that day. I was flirting with you the whole time knowing you were married. In a way, I was no better than–well, your ex-wife.”

Yelena pauses to look at you. She can’t read your expression, but at least you haven’t run away yet. Which is more than a good sign for her to continue.

“There’s no excuse for what I did. I could dismiss it as friendly between old friends, but could we even call ourselves that? We were never just friends. We had something that wasn’t official, and then I ran off to the UK before we had a chance to talk about that thing that wasn’t official, and then when I got back, I found out you’re already with someone else.

“I guess what I’m trying to say is… that was a shitty move on my part and I’m sorry. But I’d be lying if I said I didn't mean to do any of that. ‘Cause I did want to stir the pot just to see if there’s still something there.”

You wait for her to continue, but eventually Yelena vaguely signals that she’d done speaking. 

You cover your mouth with your hand, thumb scratching lightly at your chin as you thoroughly digest her confession.

“Y/N?” Yelena asks when she feels you’re being silent for too long, fear lacing her voice. “Are you mad at me?”

“Of course not,” you quickly reply. “I accept your apology. And I do appreciate your candor–for not skirting around that incident like I probably would’ve, for…well, forever.”

Yelena is overwhelmed with relief.

“You were never great at confrontations.” she muses, and your minds both wander to the letter you wrote for her that she had missed, already having boarded the plane when you decided to drop by and hand-deliver it yourself.

“I’m working on it. I know I can’t keep putting things at the back of my head until I eventually forget them and then it’s too late.”

“Or maybe you just think it’s too late, and you use that as an excuse to not even try.” Yelena counters. It’s a fair point and somehow applicable to your shared history together. 

“You know what? I’m just gonna shoot my shot here while I’m feeling brave,” Yelena says, keeping her eyes trained on her almost empty drink.

“Go to dinner with me next Friday.” 

Before you can stop it, Wanda’s languid face in the mornings registers in your brain fleetingly. And then you blink once and the image of her is gone, replaced by Yelena’s hopeful stare. 

“Dinner, as in…” you try to clarify, just in case you’re misreading it.

“As in I’m asking you out,” Yelena confirms, and proudly smiles at how your ears redden at this point. “Or if you’re not ready, say so. I’m a big girl. I can take it. Then I’ll ask you again in a few months.”

“I-I don’t know. Can I sleep on it?” you say, suddenly embarrassed. 

“Take all the time you need. I just thought you should know that I’m an option.”

Your expression turns grim once you question the fact that someone like Yelena wants you.

She senses your internal conflict and asks, “What’s wrong?” 

“How could you want me? I’m damaged goods. You know that, right?”

“Y/N,” Yelena chides, and she looks positively horrified.  “Don’t you ever think you’re half the person you are just because somebody was stupid enough not to know your worth.”

You shrug your shoulders. There’s no point in arguing. Regardless of what other people think, it’s what you see in the mirror these days.

“Okay.” you mumble in reply and casually chug your drink to the last drop.

Yelena’s not convinced, but recognizes that it’s not the right place nor the right time to show you you’re more than just damaged goods. 

“Okay.” she says, then looks over to where people seem to be under the spell of eternal bliss. 

“Wanna dance with me at least? You know–as friends,” Yelena says, and then a second later adds, “For now.”

You don’t answer and merely allow yourself to be pulled towards writhing bodies moving to the beat of the music, like puppets on strings. 

-

You don’t remember the last time you’ve thoroughly enjoyed dancing with someone.

(That’s a lie though, because you do; if twirling your wife and enthusiastically swaying to her poor singing in the kitchen counts.)

Unbeknownst to you, a pair of green eyes darts to you and your dance partner, before they shut in reprieve.  

-

A surprisingly sober Natasha appears next to you as you’re getting the next round of drinks. You fan yourself uselessly with your hand after breaking out a sweat on the dancefloor. 

“Hey! Where have you been?” you say.

“Bruce was here. But that’s not important.” Natasha says.

“Are you guys–” you begin to ask about it, but Natasha brazenly cuts you off. 

“Don’t even think about it.” she says, her tone unusually stern, and you whip your head so fast in her direction your vision spins a little.  

“Think about what?” you say.

“Flirting with my sister.” 

“I wasn’t,” you say and Natasha lifts an eyebrow. “I swear.”

Natasha surveys you a while longer with an unreadable expression, and just as you start feeling uncomfortable, she backs off with a small nod.

It only bothers you more. “I-Is that something I’m not allowed to do?” you cautiously ask.

Natasha scratches at her nape. “Technically, you’re single now and you can flirt with whoever you want. But maybe not my sister, okay? I don’t want her to get hurt.”

“What are you implying?”

“Look, Y/N, I’m just trying to give you the big sister talk, and I hope you understand why I need to. Especially since Yelena told me not long ago about the R-rated version of your history together.”

Your mouth falls open in shock, already circling around the details of what Yelena might have shared with your best friend. “She what?”

“I wanted to smack you in the face when she told me that you were…” Natasha grimaces, trying not to imagine you in bed with her sister. “... her first.”

“God, Nat. I–” Your tongue feels heavy, and you wish you weren’t half-sober for this. “She–we–”

“Relax, Y/N. It’s not like I found out about it yesterday. I’ve known ever since she came back to New York.”

“I think I’d prefer if you’d still smack me in the face right now. But please consider how tiny I am compared to your usual sparring partners.”

Natasha lets out an airy laugh that gives you a bit of relief. “To be honest, I think I’ve always known that there was something going on between you and her. I was just too stubborn to admit it because I care about you both so much.”

“I care about you too. And Yelena.”

“I believe you,” Natasha says. “But Yelena thinks you hung the moon and stars and all that shit, and you’re–you’re kind of a mess, Y/N. No offense.”

“Do you want me to stay away from her?” you ask. 

“Not really. But as her older sister, I need to remind you to think about it carefully if ever it becomes more than platonic.” she says. “I’m leaving in a few hours, so I need you to promise me not to be reckless. That's all I’m asking.”

Natasha gives and gives and gives, and rarely ever asks for anything. 

And you suppose you owe it to her in some way.

“Promise.”

-

A couple of more shots (and an incident of restraining Natasha from punching the lights out of a guy who randomly grabbed your ass) later, you’re stumbling out of the club, reeking of smoke, sweat and alcohol. 

Your phone dies just before you could confirm a ride, and you blearily stare at it like you’re expecting it to suddenly come alive again by some miracle. Yelena has left earlier, mentioning an early meeting at work, and you can’t find Natasha since Bruce’s surprise appearance. An option is to walk to your apartment, but you can’t seem to move any part of your body with the intense throbbing in your head.

You deliberate your fate for the night, until you feel an odd sensation of being watched. 

Your eyes flit across the street and there she is.

Wanda Maximoff.

-

You get home safely with the help of your ex-wife. Once you reach your room, you don’t bother to brush your teeth or wash your face. You just mechanically strip down to your underwear before diving under the covers.

In your sleep, you dream about Wanda.

Dream Wanda resembles College Wanda, with her dirty blonde hair that falls in waves past her shoulders. She’s cradling your head on her lap, while you look up at her lovingly.

“Wands,” you whisper. “I miss you.”

She scrunches her nose as she smiles down at you. “I’m right here, baby.”

“You’re not.”

“Where did I go then?”

You shake your head and close your eyes. “I honestly don’t know.”

“Look for me, then. I only want to be found by you.”

“I’m not sure I want to.” you confess to Dream Wanda, and her brows stitch together into a frown. Then you feel something wet and cold drip on your cheeks. Your eyes flutter open but instead of seeing Wanda, you see Vision’s face covered in blood. 

Your mouth opens in a silent scream. In reality, you’re alone in Natasha’s apartment, thrashing in your bed and mumbling incoherently. 

The next morning, you don’t recall any of it, but you feel its echoes in your heart anyway.

-

You wake up to a text from Natasha, telling her that she’s already at the airport. The message came in at 1:30AM, and was followed by another text six hours later, saying that she has landed safely and that you won’t be hearing from her again in the next ten days at the minimum. A third message came in a second after that, and it simply read, “Look out for my sister. Don’t forget what you promised.” You text back a short “Take care, Nat.”, before tossing your phone somewhere on your unmade bed. 

Trudging towards the kitchen, you think about Yelena. 

There was a time when the blonde used to occupy your thoughts day and night, notwithstanding the thousands of miles you were apart.

But all that changed the day you met Wanda, and she never crossed your mind again except when she’d come up in conversations, and until that time you accidentally almost ran her over in Soho. 

You languidly stir together the milk and cereal in your bowl. It would be a lie to say that seeing Yelena, especially in that dress, didn’t do things to you that a married woman would normally stamp out before they could spread like wildfire. Except, you’re no longer a married woman. And Yelena let you look as much as you wanted–even encouraged it. 

It’s liberating more than anything, not because you’re free from the confines of marriage, but because you didn’t feel guilty having looked.

Is it time? 

You’ve always thought of Yelena as your ‘right person, wrong time’. 

Is it the right time?

-

The weekend passes in a blur of series marathons and Chinese takeouts. Wanda doesn’t text or call, neither does Yelena. You thought you had sufficient time to reconsider Wanda’s invitation, but Monday eventually comes around, bringing about an unexplainable anxiety you can’t curb and can only attribute to intuition. Even if you don’t tell Wanda the reason you won’t come, binge-watching another show instead of doing something meaningful for someone is at a level of pathetic you’re not willing to stoop towards. 

Besides, you said you’d come. Being steadfast in your word is both your strength and your undoing. And so, your intent to follow through with your promise brings you to a corner gardening store, after scouring the internet for ‘grand opening gift ideas’.

None of them suggested this. Though you knew Wanda enough to know better than those online articles.

“And this pretty thing? What does it stand for?” you ask, pointing at flowers of a variety of colors resembling a pompon.

“That’s a Chrysanthemum–or just ‘mums’. Very easy to keep them alive. In Chinese culture, it represents longevity and good luck. But it also simply symbolizes friendship and happiness.” the store keeper says. 

“Perfect,” you say, focusing on ‘longevity and good luck’. “I’ll get… Five of those in a pot.”

“What color would you like, dear?”

Without thinking, you pick Wanda’s favorite color. “The red ones. All of them.” 

The store keeper claps her hands together. “Excellent choice. Just give me a second to prepare them for you.”

A pleased smile works its way to your lips. “Thanks a lot.”

Mums in a pot. That's a good gift right? Not too thoughtful nor impersonal. It would look good displayed anywhere in her shop should Wanda decide to keep it there. Or she can place it at her new home near a window, as it probably needs six hours of sunlight a day. 

Perhaps you should also write instructions for Wanda on how to care for these mums. And will she need some fertilizers too? 

You’re busy putting together a mental list when the store keeper comes out with the final product. 

“Here you go,” she says and hands you over Wanda’s gift in a paper bag. “It’s $95.86.”

You pull out a hundred dollar bill from your wallet. “Keep the change.”

She does a little bow of gratitude and says, “Thank you, dear. She’s going to love it.”

“She?” you sputter, bewildered.

“The recipient’s a lady, I assume. Is it not?”

“It…is.” you hesitantly confirm.

“Good luck, ma’m.” she says with innocent cheer, unmindful of your sudden skepticism.

As you leave the shop feeling less sure of your gift choice, your phone’s ringing tone goes off in your pants. With urgency, you take your phone out of your pocket and find an unknown number calling. 

“Hello?”

“Y/N,” A husky voice greets you over the receiver.

“Yelena?”

“Hey. I, uh, got your number from Nat,” she says, hearing her heavy sighs in between sentences. “Is this a bad time?”

“No. Is something wrong?” you ask, swinging the paper bag back and forth as you meander about the busy alley on your way back home.

“I’m in the middle of a news article that’s due for tomorrow, and I heard that your former boss is Scott Lang?”

“You heard right.”

“I need your banking knowledge to go over some facts in my draft,” she says. “And maybe, get a quick interview with Mr. Lang?”

For a while, you don’t know how to answer. You haven’t been in touch with Scott or any of your colleagues since moving back, and it seems kind of rude to call him up out of the blue for a favor.

“Please?” you hear Yelena beg softly. You knew Yelena. Like Natasha, she almost never asks for help, not unless it’s a matter of life, death or career. 

“Okay,” you finally say. “Where should we meet?”

“I’ll meet you at Nat’s in an hour? It’s where you’ve been staying, right?”

You agree on the time and place, and hurry to catch a bus instead of your original plan to walk the thirty minutes back to the apartment.

It oddly feels good to be part of a Monday’s morning rush once again.

-

You end up spending the whole day helping Yelena and trailing after her to visit various places and meet financial executives just to put together a 1,500-word news article on The Wall Street Journal. 

“You saved me today,” Yelena tells you while you escort her to the lobby. “Let me make it up to you on Friday?” 

It’s tempting, especially after discovering that you both make a great team. You actually had fun running errands with her. 

But you promised Natasha.

“I’ll text you.” you answer with a small smile. 

Once Yelena gets inside her ride, it hits you right away where you’re supposed to be. You check your watch and the time displayed sends you in a panic. 

It’s almost ten. Wanda’s café is only open until nine. You quickly grab your gift for Wanda and hail a cab for Queens.

Your cab screeches to a halt right in front of Second Chances. You make sure to tip big for forcing your driver to beat the speed limit several times on the way. 

You get off the cab, and take in your first impression of Wanda’s café. The facade of the coffee shop is simple: the signage looks obviously hand-drawn, while the black awning underneath it gives it a Parisian vibe; a string of yellow led lights hang above the glass door and the full-length window next to it.

It has Wanda written all over it. And you can’t help the teary smile that creeps its way to your lips. Carrying the potted Chrysanthemum securely under your arm, you walk to the entrance that holds a ‘Sorry, We’re Closed’ sign. The stainless shutter is lowered down just barely, and it’s pitch black inside except for a beam of light coming from the back room.

You raise your fist, about to knock, when suddenly you catch a figure from the corner of your eyes. 

It’s Wanda, and she’s asleep with her arms as her pillow, hunched over the bar table facing the window. Curiously, you move over to stand right across her and push your palm against the translucent barrier. 

She waited for you to show. Your heart betrays you as it thumps wildly in your chest. 

For a moment you just stand there watching. There are still days when you randomly get angry at Wanda all over again. Some days, you bargain and simultaneously undergo depression. And you cycle over these stages in random orders but haven't–not even once–felt like you’re ready to accept all of it. 

Somewhere in the stillness, an ambulance siren could be heard wailing in the distance. Wanda is slow to come to, and even as you realize she’s waking up, you stay frozen in your position.

“Y/N?” you read your name being spoken from her lips. Wanda looks confused in her sleepy state, still deciding if you’re actually there. You beam at her and mouth a ‘hi’ in return. 

Wanda lights up right before your eyes. She hurries to unlock the door to her shop.  

“Sorry I’m late.” you say.

Wanda’s smile only widens, and then she says, “Better late than never.”

You choose to sit at one of the tiny dining tables for two near the open kitchen. There are congratulatory flowers arranged neatly by the counter, making you a bit self-conscious about bringing something similar on a smaller, more insignificant scale.

“How long have you been waiting?” you ask as you survey the interior of the cafe..

“Not long.” Wanda assures you, and then proudly hands you over the menu. Her writing is almost instantly recognizable. 

“Pick anything you want. On the house.” she says, tying back her apron. 

There aren’t many items on the list, but you’re familiar with each of them from Wanda having made them for you over the years. 

“I’ll have a Spanish latte,” you say, eyes still scanning the menu. “Do you have any cookies left?”

“Sorry, they are all sold out.” 

“Wanda, that’s awesome!” You exclaim, placing the menu back on the table.

Wanda endearingly chuckles at your excitement. You’re still a customer, and it’s very unusual for one to cheer when the item they want is unavailable.

“Have you eaten? I can whip something up.” Wanda says, peeking inside the fridge. 

You haven’t eaten since lunch, but you don’t want Wanda to go through the trouble of preparing something off the menu. “It’s fine.” 

“I’m kinda hungry myself,” Wanda chews on her bottom lip. “Does garlic pasta sound good?”

As if on cue, your stomach rumbles and Wanda tries to suppress a smirk.

“Sounds amazing.” you mumble, somewhat flustered by the sound you just made. The thought of a warm pasta for dinner, however, is already making you drool.

Wanda grins, buzzing with childlike enthusiasm. “Coming right up!”

Right before she gets to it, Wanda puts on some music and gives you her phone. “Play anything you want.” she says. A classical piano piece starts playing in the background, and it actually matches the mood and the vibe of the room, so you choose to stay on the current playlist.

Wanda already has some minced garlic and left over pasta from earlier, so it’s just a matter of reheating and then mixing the ingredients. In less than ten minutes, she’s bringing out two plates of Aglio e Olio and your order of a hot Spanish latte.

You haven’t realized how starving you are until the aroma of Wanda’s dish reaches your nose. 

“What’s that?” Wanda points to the paper bag sitting beside you after she settles in her seat across you.

“Oh!” you say. “I almost forgot. This is for you. Happy, uh, grand opening day?”

Wanda takes the bag, unintentionally brushing your fingers in the process. Her skin is warm from cooking and smells like the condiments she used to prepare your food.

You quietly eat your food, unable to keep yourself from moaning out your satisfaction. After months of living on takeouts, it’s a very welcome change.

Wanda, on the other hand, peers inside the paper bag, and her smile grows and grows until it reaches her watery eyes. 

“These are gorgeous, Y/N,” Wanda comments, taking the pot out of its hiding. “I love them. Thank you.”

“You’re welcome.”

Wanda stands up and walks towards the window near the entrance, the plant and a glass of water in tow. She places the mums in the corner where it will be least bothered by customers, but should receive the most sunlight at the same time. She then proceeds to water it, careful to cover the whole soil and sprinkle some on its delicate petals. 

A smile graces your lips as you watch her tend to the mums. 

It’s hard not to wonder if maybe this could work. Maybe healing can be possible while being friends.

“How much do I owe you?” you ask, after you finish your food. You subtly eye Wanda’s plate, which she’s barely touched. 

“Like I said, on the house.” she answers. 

You purse your lips in disapproval but don’t insist; the tip jar is right beside the register and you can slip some twenties later when Wanda’s not looking.

“So, any feedback? Is the latte too sweet?” Wanda asks with a devoted curiosity of a businesswoman. “For the pasta I added an extra ounce of minced garlic from the original recipe, but I’m not sure if it made the flavor too strong. And this table–don’t you think it’s too small? Cause they don’t look standard-sized to me, and I keep telling them–”

“Wanda, slow down,” you gently cut in, bringing the coffee mug to your lips for a taste test. It’s sweet but not achingly so. There’s still a hint of bitterness in the aftertaste, and the richness of the condensed milk counters it, resulting in a very comforting pick-me-up.

“It’s good. I’d say, better than the ones I always got when I was still working.”

“You’re not working anymore?”

You bite your lip at that, not really meaning for that information to slip out of you.

“I took a sabbatical,” you explain, refusing to call yourself jobless in front of your ex-wife, who somehow contrived to achieve greater heights following a divorce and a narrowly missed small town sex scandal.

You quickly try to change the subject. “Anyway, don’t worry about the furniture. As long as they’re comfy.”

“Half of your ass is barely hanging onto your seat, you know?” Wanda points out with a giggle. 

There’s no denying the tinge of jealousy you feel over the fact that Wanda seems to have her shit together more than she cares to admit. But that’s overruled by the natural joy of seeing someone you care about (because you do, you really still do) thrive, no matter how much they hurt you in the past. 

“Are you saying my ass is fat?” you ask, pretending to be offended. 

She laughs harder, resulting in tiny hiccups that never fails to trigger you into a fit as well.

“Honestly though, it barely fits mine as well. But that's all I can afford for now.” Wanda says as she keeps twirling the pasta around her fork without any intention of actually eating.

“You shouldn’t play with your food.” you chide, still smiling.

“Do you want some of mine?”

You shake your head no. “Not when you just implied I have a fat ass.”

Wanda snorts, her laughter building up again at your poker face. 

When she recovers this time, you sheepishly smile and take some from her plate and transfer it to yours. 

“I haven’t thanked you for coming.” Wanda mutters in a hoarse voice. You wordlessly fill her empty glass with water.

“To be honest, I wasn’t sure until this morning if I was going to.” you say.

Certain muscles on Wanda’s face visibly tighten at that.

“Why is that?” Wanda whispers, staring at her unwanted food, losing again the appetite she lied about in the first place.

You mull about it for a moment. There’s no point in denying that you feel things for Wanda. Abstract feelings that you can’t name, but feel regardless. And it’s still unclear whether they are beneficial or not to you moving forward. Just that, being in communication with Wanda again puts you at ease; brings back a sense of normalcy that you so crave. It could be because you can’t remember a time she wasn’t a part of your life, can’t remember who you were before her. Going cold-turkey only led to some impulsive decisions (not to mention, a cheap and random sex with a stranger who was spoken for).

“Because I want to do what’s right for me, this time. And I’m not sure if this is.”

“This?”

“Being in each other’s lives.” you coolly state, crossing your arms and leaning back on your chair. 

Wanda blinks a couple of times when wetness gathers around her eyes. You drop your head and sigh. It goes without saying that these meetings with Wanda are always volatile. But constantly crying around someone is obviously not an indication of a healthy bond. 

“I’m afraid you’re the only one who can answer your own question, Y/N.” Wanda swipes at the corner of her eyes. 

You hollowly laugh. “I was kinda expecting you’d convince me that this is a good idea.”

“The fact that I invited you here and never stopped trying to contact you says alot without me having to say it.” Wanda reasons evenly.

“And me doing exactly the opposite, must also say a lot. Is that it?” you retort. 

Wanda squints at your hard tone. “That’s not what I’m saying.” 

“Well, it’s what I’m hearing.” 

An impasse is reached, and Wanda wishes nothing more than to retract her statements and start all over again. 

“Why do I keep fucking this up?” you’re scarcely able to hear Wanda talk, more directly to herself than you.

You release a ragged breath and speak out, “You’re not fucking up anything, Wanda. There’s nothing to fuck up in the first place because we’re not supposed to expect anything from each other anymore, remember?”

Wands nods in understanding. “It just feels like I keep saying the wrong thing.”

You consider her words for a moment. “Maybe it’s because I keep waiting for you to.”

Wanda looks up at you with wide, limpid eyes. “So I am walking on eggshells.” 

“You don’t have to though. You can’t always worry about what will set me off. Let me worry about that.” 

“I’m scared, Y/N,” Wanda whispers. “I’m scared I’ll say one wrong thing and I won’t hear from you again for a long time. I mean, I just… I just found you. Inadvertently, if I may add.”

“I-I get where you’re coming from, and I don’t blame you for feeling that way,” you say. “But I can’t promise that I won’t disappear when something happens.”

Wanda hums and you lick your lips.

“I have thought about it.” you say, in spite of the delicate timing. 

She looks skeptical. “Thought about…?”

“Us,” you motion between yourself and her. “Being friends.”

“Oh,” Wanda tries not to sound disappointed. The problem is she wants too much too soon. And she needs to work on that or else she ruins her chance with you. “And?”

You’re nothing but truthful when you say, “And I miss the comfort of having you as a friend.” 

“Me too,” Wanda whispers thickly as you both share a meaningful look.

Maybe someday, she can have everything she has lost. 

Just not all at once.

[sykokilljoyy]

hi lovely!! I absolutely love your writing, I was wondering if you could please write somethin fluffy about dating ksi? maybe just having a cosy night in with him or something. hope you're well!

a/n: hi darling <3 thank u for the req! i thought this would be better done in a headcanon style? hope that's okay! <3

DATING KSI - headcanons!

you were both childhood best friends - you, jj and simon growing up around the same place, going to the same school. you didn't end up picking up youtube yourself, but there's rarely been a video that you weren't behind the camera, helping somehow.

simon was tired after years of you both secretly (not so secretly) pining for each other, refusing to admit you were both in love.

he waited until after high school, set up a nice posh meal with the 3 of you, then cancelled last minute - basically forcing you on your first date

jj gave simon the biggest hug when you both returned hours later, hand in hand

as much as he would be absolutely obsessed with you, he would be insanely protective

all the fans knew about you, he posted you often, and would actively block or denounce any single bit of hate towards you

jokes about you in basically every reddit video

his hands would never ever leave you, especially somewhere like a youtube party or boxing celebrations

speaking of boxing–

you were SO proud of him and his boxing, literally more than anyone and anything, but holy shit it scared you–

early boxing days, he would come home with bruises and cuts on his face, sheepishly creeping his arms around you from behind whilst you were doing something, nuzzling his head in your neck in hopes you wouldn't notice

you did

"jj!"

"i'm sorry! it's not as bad as it looks"

"shut up and let me clean you up"

says he's sorry, but secretly loves when you're propped on his lap, face knotted in concentration as you tend to the cuts on his face

he loves knowing you care for him, knowing you're there

and he supports your passions 1000%

sometimes he seems more excited about your goals than you are – he just loves how expressive you get when you talk about it all

you both make sure to save one night every week free for each other, to either go out on a date or stay in and spend time with just the two of you

jj's favourite is quiet nights in, which surprised you at first

for a man who spends his entire life in flashy clothes, concerts, fights, audiences of millions, you'd expect him to adore taking you out to expensive restaurants or snazzy nightclubs

but no

he always said he spent half his life in front of an audience, his favourite moments are when its only you there to witness him

his person

most weeks find the two of you curled up, passed out, snoring on the sofa with a tv show playing like white noise in the background, empty takeout boxes on the coffee table, you on his chest and his arms wrapped around you tightly

waking up with back pain and noticing you slept through like 3 entire seasons of the show you wanted to watch

"do you remember what episode we were up to?"

"um the one where the main character was talking to that other character..."

"ok so every episode, thank you jj"

"you're welcome, baby"

coming home from a shoot without him one night, you were tired and your social battery was nonexistent

dropping your stuff at the door, heading towards your shared bedroom

he's at his pc, editing or playing overwatch or something

notices you and how tired you are

"come here, baby"

shifts his chair to give you room and gestures towards you, you walk up and sit on his lap, wrapping your arms around him softly and pressing your face into his neck

he always smelt really nice

kissing you gently on the forehead, he carried on with what he was doing, occasionally stopping to rub your back or play with your hair

you were so tired

"i love you, y/n" you hear before you fall asleep there

"i love you, jj"

waking up the next day, tucked into bed with his strong arms around your waist, chest pressed against your back, legs intertwined under the covers

"good morning, baby"

"morning, jj"

he was just so happy to have you, all the time

a/n: oh em gee headcanons are so fun what to anon, if you wanted a full imagine version, lmk!! i just liked the idea of trying a headcanon style for the first time with this request! thank you darling <3

harry smut out this week!

[olympic-paris]

THIS DAY IN GAY HISTORY

based on: The White Crane Institute's 'Gay Wisdom', Gay Birthdays, Gay For Today, Famous GLBT, glbt-Gay Encylopedia, Today in Gay History, Wikipedia, and more …

20 September

1890 – in Germany, Dr. Erwin Gohrbandt studied medicine at the Military Medical Academy and graduated in 1917 then worked at the Charité Universitätsmediz inBerlin. He did the initial operations on the first two transsexuals in modern surgery.

In Berlin in 1931, Dora R, born as Rudolph R, became the first known transgender woman to undergo vaginoplasty. According to Dr. Felix Abraham, a psychiatrist working at the Institute for Sexual Science where Dora was employed as a domestic servant, her first step to feminization was made by means of castration in 1922. In 1931 a penis amputation was done, then a highly experimental vaginoplasty was performed by Dr. Erwin Gohrbandt who later became a decorated surgeon-general in the Luftwaffe.

Gordon Heath as 'Othello'

1918 – African-American actor, director, and folk-singer Gordon Heath (d.1991) became a fixture on the Parisian cabaret scene from 1949 until 1976. After an early success on Broadway in the play Deep Are the Roots (1945), he went to Europe, where he spent most of the rest of his life.

He settled in Paris, where he and his partner Lee Payant owned and entertained at a Left Bank nightclub. Heath performed in theater, film, television, and radio productions and also recorded several albums of folk music.

Heath's musical education began at age eight, when an aunt gave him violin lessons. He studied other instruments as well, but was most drawn to the guitar, finding it "friendly and sympathetic . . . to the touch." As a youngster Heath also showed a talent for drawing, winning prizes for both art and music in high school. He began performing in amateur theater groups and took first prize in a municipal drama competition. Heath earned scholarships to two music schools and briefly attended the Dalcroze Institute but decided to pursue an acting career instead. He worked on stage and in radio. When he joined radio station WMCA (New York) in 1945, he became the first black staff announcer at a major radio station in America.

In 1945 Heath scored a major success on Broadway in the play Deep Are the Roots by Arnaud d'Assue and James Gow. When the play closed on Broadway after a fourteen-month run, Heath went to London and reprised his role in a West-End production, again receiving critical acclaim. When the run there ended, Heath decided not to return to America. In 1948 he settled in Paris, which he considered more hospitable to blacks and more accepting of his relationship with his white lover, Lee Payant, a fellow actor whom he had met in New York in the early 1940s.

Like many other American expatriates fleeing racism and homophobia, Heath found a haven in cosmopolitan Paris. In 1949 Heath and Payant became co-owners of a Paris club called L'Abbaye, so named because it was behind the abbey church of St Germain des Prés. For nearly thirty years the two entertained appreciative audiences, playing guitar and singing duets of American and French folk songs. In 1957 Elektra Records released an album of their duets, An Evening at L'Abbaye, comprising seventeen songs, five of them in French. Heath and Payant also recorded an album entitled French Canadian Folk Songs in 1954, and the same year Heath had a self-titled solo album.

Even after acquiring L'Abbaye, Heath continued to act. He toured in Britain in 1950 as the title character in Shakespeare's Othello, a role that he repeated in Tony Richardson's 1955 version of the play on BBC. Heath appeared in other British television productions, again playing the lead in Deep Are the Roots in 1950. He starred in Eugene O'Neill's The Emperor Jones in 1953, and appeared in a television adaptation of Alan Paton's novel Cry, the Beloved Country in 1958. Despite the positive reception of his performances on stage and television, Heath did not receive offers for major parts in movies.

He narrated John Halas and Joy Batchelor's animated film of George Orwell's Animal Farm in 1956, and contributed supporting roles in a number of movies, including Les héros sont fatigués (1955, directed by Yves Ciampi), The Madwoman of Chaillot (1969, directed by Bryan Forbes), and L'Africain (1983, directed by Philippe de Broca). He and Payant also dubbed many films.

In the 1960s Heath turned his talents to directing, working for a decade with the Studio Theater of Paris, an English-language company that staged plays by Thornton Wilder, Arthur Miller, and Bertolt Brecht, among others. Payant acted in many of the plays.

In December 1976 Payant died of cancer at age fifty-two. Devastated by his loss, Heath could not bear continuing to work at L'Abbaye alone. He returned to the United States, where he spent five years doing some acting and directing. Eventually, however, he decided to go back to France, and there he found a new partner, Alain Woisson. Heath died in Paris on August 28, 1991, of an AIDS-related illness.

1930 – Richard Montague (d.1971) was an American mathematician and philosopher.

At the University of California, Berkeley, Montague earned a B.A. in Philosophy in 1950, an M.A. in Mathematics in 1953, and a Ph.D. in Philosophy 1957, the latter under the direction of the mathematician and logician Alfred Tarski. Montague, one of Tarski's most accomplished American students, spent his entire career teaching in the UCLA Department of Philosophy, where he supervised the dissertations of Nino Cocchiarella and Hans Kamp.

Montague wrote on the foundations of logic and set theory, as would befit a student of Tarski. He pioneered a logical approach to natural language semantics which became known as Montague grammar.

Montague was an accomplished organist and a successful real estate investor.

A homosexual, he died violently in his own home; the crime is unsolved to this day. He often went to bars "cruising" and bringing people home with him. On the day that he was murdered, he brought home several people for some kind of soirée, but they instead robbed his house and strangled him.

1948 – Chuck Panozzo (born Charles Salvatore Panozzo in Chicago) is a bass player. A longtime member of the rock band Styx, he founded the group with his fraternal twin brother, drummer John Panozzo, who died in July 1996. After three decades as a Styx mainstay, Chuck Panozzo left the band shortly thereafter, though he has reappeared with the band occasionally.

Styx is an American arena rock band that was popular in the 1970s and 1980s, with such hits as Come Sail Away, Babe, Lady, Mr Roboto, and Renegade. They were the first band to have four consecutive multi-platinum albums. After a hiatus during which several band members were involved in solo and other group projects with varying success Styx reformed in 1995 and have continued to record and tour with some success, although failing to match their 80s heyday.

In 2001, Panozzo announced to the world he was gay and living with HIV, and having been diagnosed way back in 1991. The death of brother John Panozzo in 1996 and a serious illness in 1998 gave him the determination to get well, return to performing and come out as a gay man with HIV. Since his coming out he has been involved in campaigning for AIDS awareness and gay rights. He has also survived prostate cancer.

Among Panozzo's bandmates, only his twin brother, drummer John, knew Chuck's secret. In his book, The Grand Illusion, Panozzo writes about growing up gay in Chicago, his double life in Styx, and his HIV diagnosis in 1991 - yet another secret he once kept hidden.

In denial, Panozzo opted to forgo treatment, nearly dying from fear of the medication then available to AIDS patients. After all, acquaintances were committing suicide rather than endure AZT's side effects, he writes. He still gets a catch in his voice when he talks about a close friend being shunned by family while dying from the disease. Panozzo was diagnosed with AIDS in 1998 and had most of the symptoms: Kaposi's sarcoma, anemia, thrush. His weight dropped to 130 pounds. Still, he's one of the lucky ones.

Advancements in medication and diligence in monitoring his health have made Panozzo's viral load nearly undetectable. Three times a week, he works out in a nearby gym. He's toned, muscled, strong; so is partner Tim McCarron, who is on the same AIDS regimen as Panozzo.

1980 – Arsham Parsi is an Iranian LGBT Human Rights activist who lives in exile in Canada. He is the founder and head of the Iranian Railroad for Queer Refugees (IRQR).

Parsi was born in Shiraz, Iran. As a gay Iranian, he felt alone until at age 15 he discovered solace in the Internet. Parsi began volunteering for underground gay organizations. At age 22, he began working for the Persian Gay and Lesbian Organization and networked with doctors to provide HIV testing. He responded to emails from suicidal gay teenagers. The strict laws against homosexuality forced Parsi to keep his work secret from friends and family. But in March 2005, Parsi realized the police were looking for him and fled from Iran to Turkey, where he spent 13 months. Unable to return to Iran, Parsi lives in Toronto, Canada.

Parsi works as a queer activist to make sure Iranian gay citizens are not being improperly treated. Parsi has faced death threats, excommunication, but he is resilient in his fight.

1984 – Brian Joubert is a French figure skater. He is the 2007 World Champion, a three-time European champion (2004, 2007 & 2009), a six-time French National champion, and the 2006 Grand Prix champion.

Joubert was born in Poitiers, France to Jean-Michel and Raymonde Joubert. He suffered a life-threatening illness at the age of 11 months, which led to the removal of one kidney. Because of this illness, Joubert chose figure skating over more violent sports that he favored. He began skating at the age of four with his two older sisters. The siblings started out with Ice dancing, but Joubert became fascinated with the jumping aspect of singles skating and switched disciplines.

Joubert has been considered somewhat of a heartthrob in his native country, France. This reputation has been contributed to by Joubert's short relationship with former Miss France, Lætitia Bléger. He later brought a lawsuit against Bléger for 40,000 Euros for insinuating that he was homosexual and that their relationship was arranged to hide this. Bléger and two magazines that published her allegations were ordered by a French court to pay a total of 17,000 Euros, and to publish the court ruling in one of the two magazines.

1990 – Cory Wade Hindorff, born in Philadelphia, Pennsylvania, is an American singer, actor, model, and spokesperson in the LGBT community. He is best known for placing third on the 20th cycle of America's Next Top Model (ANTM).

He was the first homosexual male contestant on ANTM. According to interviews on the show he loves to sing, act, model and being a drag queen. He has been criticized for his feminine style and sexuality. During the ANTM cycle, he continuously got criticized by judge Rob Evans for being effeminate and for having a lack of masculine poses in his photoshoots. He is biracial, and currently lives in Philadelphia, Pennsylvania.

Cory Hindorff also appeared in the 21st season of America's Next Top Model as a special guest in episodes 1, 4 and 8.

[itstorimf]

risky, risky, risky - professor!dad!chan x female reader

chapter one: "Mr. Fine-Ass-Man"

word count: 1.1K

warnings: foul language, mentions of alcohol, age gap (only by a few years but jus incase that makes anyone uncomfortable), let me know if i missed anything

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*written in Y/N's pov*

To say that my third year in college was difficult would be an understatement. As a creative writing major, most of my days consisted of sitting in my cramped apartment writing. I hadn't had much time for relationships or partying or bar hopping like the other students my age, and honestly, I was okay with that. I really only had one friend, a sister almost. Wonyoung. She also happened to be my roommate. She was in a few of my classes in the early years of our college adventure. Wonyoung and I had nothing in common, which is why I think I gravitated towards her so much. If I was the moon, Wonyoung was the sun. Warm, bright, and inviting. Wonyoung was able to find a balance between school, working at the cafe on our campus, and maintaining an ever growing social life. I envied that about her. 

"Y/NN!!!" Wonnie yelled from the bathroom.

"Ya! You only ever call me that if you need something. What do you want?" I responded, leaving the comfort of my room. She was getting ready to go out with a few of our classmates for drinks at the nightclub that was not to far away from the campus, Venom. Venom was owned by three guys that graduated from our school, so it was extremely well known by the students. When I got to the bathroom, Wonyoung was dressed in a pink minidress with her hair in waves that ended at the small of her back.

"Y/NN, please please please come out with me tonight!" she said overly excited. "You had your last final today which means you don't have any priorities anymore. Please!"

"Which is exactly why I want to stay in tonight! Won, I've be knee deep in homework and study sessions for the last two months. All I want to do is sleep." I started walking back to my room in an effort to ignore her begging.

"Come on. Since it's the last day, I'm almost certain that everyone is going to be there." Wonnie continued pleading. I turned around and gave her a look.

"Exactly! I don't know if being surrounded by a bunch of hot, sweaty, drunk bodies sounds like the best way to celebrate the semester ending." I continued to walk back to my room. 

"Sunghoon's gonna be there," she said. I stopped for a second. Sunghoon was one of Wonyoung's closest friends. We had only met a few times, but he might have been the single most attractive man I had ever met. Wonnie could tell that her suggestion had affected me because I could hear her giggling. My crush on Sunghoon was very small, but obviously enough to change my mind about my plans. "Soooo.. I take that as you're coming?"

"Jang Wonyoung. You are going to be the absolute death of me!" 

And yet I agreed. Wonyoung finished her makeup and decided that she wanted to play dress up with me. She lent me one of her dresses, a black silk minidress that came just below my ass. Never something I would have chosen for myself, but when I looked in the mirror, I felt more confident than ever. The material was flattering and accentuated my body shape rather than hid it. Wonnie did my makeup and finished my hair for me. The whole scene felt like I was in a cheesy high school movie, but nonetheless the damage had been done. I slipped on a pair of the comfiest heels I owned and we were ready to go. 

The line to get into the club was long, but because Wonnie is Wonnie we were able to skip the line. I scanned the club floor and just as I had imagined, it was full of people, dancing and drinking like there was no tomorrow. 

"Oh! I see them!" Wonyoung yelled as she grabbed my hand and pulled me toward the bar. Once we were able to push ourselves through the crowd, Wonnie announced our arrival. "Guys! You know my roommate! Y/N. Guys. Guys. Y/N." I waved at the group. It consisted of a few of our fellow creative writing majors and some of the guys on the football team. All of which were already drunk as fuck. 

"Hey! Can I get you both a drink?" a boy named Heeseung asked. Wonnie accepted and downed her shot of tequila in the time it took me to blink. I opted out of the shot taking and ordered myself a cocktail to sip on throughout the night. While I knew I wasn't driving and I didn't have to be as careful I was, I also knew that I didn't want to wake up with a massive hangover. I looked over at Sunghoon, who was preoccupied in a conversation with a girl I had seen in a few of my classes, Ryujin. I couldn't be too heartbroken that he wasn't giving me the time of day. After all, it wasn't like he knew me all that well. I brushed it off and looked over at my best friend who was having the time of her life. She grabbed my hand again and led me to the dance floor. 

I had always been a lightweight when it came to drinking, so having the one drink already gave me the courage to dance. I let the heavy bass of the music take over and swayed my body side to side. I might have looked like a lunatic on the dance floor, but at that point I didn't care. 

"Hey. I'm sorry about the whole Sunghoon thing!" Wonnie yelled over the music, just loud enough so I could hear. 

"It's totally fine. I didn't come out for him. I'm here to party with you!" I told her.

"Y/NNNNNN!" she whined and pulled me into a hug. "Oh my god. Don't look now, but there is a fine ass man looking over here." I let go of her and subtly turned around to look at this so-called fine ass man she was talking about. Holy shit. She was right. He was sitting at a table with two other guys. They all looked a little bit older, maybe their mid twenties. He was dressed in a white button down shirt with a few buttons opened and the sleeves rolled up. He looked like he had just stepped off of a movie lot, so effortlessly attractive. We made eye contact briefly before I broke away and looked back at Wonyoung. "Y/N. Please go talk to him!" she pleaded. I laughed.

"Yeah right bitch! No way someone looks like that and is not already taken." My feet started to ache from all of the standing and dancing. "I love you... so much, but I'm about ready to cut my toes off right now. I'm gonna go sit down for a sec." She kissed my cheek and continued dancing, her friends eventually joining her.

I found an unoccupied table in the corner of the club and took a sip of the drink I still had. I checked my phone to look the time. 1:30 AM. Clearly, Wonnie wasn't going to make it to her shift in the morning which meant that I would more than likely have to pick it up for her. I grabbed my clutch and started to get up to tell Won that I was about ready to leave, when I literally stumbled into someone. I grabbed onto the unknown person for balance and saw the sleeves of a white button up. Embarrassed I looked up at the person, and of course, it was no one other than "Mr. Fine-Ass-Man" himself.

[jolinaprincess]

BTS MAFIA SOULMATES A/B/O AU FF

CHAPTER 2: Teenage Life/Friends/Training

An: Hello everyone! FINALLY IT'S HERE CHAPTER 2 Well, I know it took forever for me to edit/update, but I was stuck with how the story was going so I asked for some help from other authors, and I would like to thank them for their help and for making me see where the story was going wrong so hopefully now with direction and such. Please leave a comment or critic down below.  I DON'T OWN THE VIDEO OR PICS AND BTS. Oh, one more thing thank you for voting.... even though I rather have your input then votes but it's very much appreciated. NOW ON WITH THE STORY!!!!!!!

Yn was taken from her former home by Yuki, who she quickly realized was the son of the individual who had acquired her from her former father. During their journey to her new residence, Yuki provided her with a comprehensive overview of the rules and expectations she would face. He also gave her a glimpse into the true character of his father, Mr. Melgar, warning her of his deceitful and dangerous ways. Additionally, Yn was informed that she would have a mentor, Jolina, who would guide her on how to survive and thrive in this new and challenging environment.

Upon arrival at the magnificent mansion owned by Mr. Melgar, Yn was greeted by the father and son duo at the main entrance. As they made their way inside, Yn was awed by the grandeur of her new home, but also mindful of the danger that came with living in close proximity to Mr. Melgar and his two sons. Yn was taken to her room on the second floor, which was situated next to her mentor, Jolina's room. The door to her room was marked with the letter "Y," and as Yuki opened it and stepped inside, Yn followed closely behind, eager to explore her new surroundings but also cautious and alert. The room was elegantly appointed, but Yn remained focused, aware that her survival and success in this new life would require constant vigilance and determination and asked Yuki 

Yn: "Now what is going to happen? I know I have to train, but what about the school and parties/ business parties?

Yuki: " Well, for you, the outside world will know you as Mr. Melgar's adopted daughter that he kept hidden for a while to get you ready for facing the spotlight. You will have time to study the high school curriculum on some days while you have Survival Training and Pleasure training with Jolina on other days.

    (What the bedroom looks like except behind the wall part)

Yn was already well-informed about what Pleasure Training entailed, being a highly intelligent individual. As she said goodnight to Yuki, she retreated to her room for the night, intending to watch some K-dramas before sleep. However, after taking a shower and getting into bed, she found herself unable to sleep as memories of her past life flooded her mind, causing her to break down in tears. Just then, she felt a soft touch on her head and turned to see her mentor, Jolina, who had become her partner following her successful completion of the training program.

Yn was just 16 years old when she began her training under the supervision of Mr. Melgar and his sons, Yuki and Zero. During the first year, Yn received education in the fundamentals of survival, assassination, seduction, and learned to adapt to her role as Mr. Melgar's adopted daughter, while also pursuing a high school curriculum. Mr. Melgar made it clear to Yn what was expected of her, and in his absence, Yuki and Zero would step in to provide additional training and support. On days when Jolina was out on missions, Yn was subjected to brutal Omega training, leaving her physically scarred and battered. Despite this, Yuki and Zero would always be there to tend to her wounds and offer comfort through their friendship.

The Second Year of Yn's training was a continuation of the harsh and grueling experience she underwent in her first year. At 17 years old, Yn was put to work at one of Mr. Melgar's nightclubs, where she learned that BTS was searching for her through their connections. Despite being uncertain about what to do, Yn pretended to have died, until she came across a teenage girl who was being accosted by some drunken men. Yn stepped in and defended the girl and was stunned to find that she looked like a twin of herself. Introducing herself to the girl, Janet, Yn sought her help and during Mr. Melgar's absences, Yn visited Janet and trained her in self-defense techniques. The exact details of Yn's relationship with BTS remain hazy, but it is known that she eventually became close with the members of the group and was ready to travel to South Korea.

As the time for Janet's departure approached, Yn gifted her with plane tickets and wished to accompany her to the airport. However, due to the impending return of Mr. Melgar, Yn had to forgo the opportunity to see Janet off. Janet arrived safely in South Korea and made her way to one of BTS's businesses, but it must be noted that BTS was unaware of Yn's experiences in the Mafia world and saw Janet merely as a stand-in.

The third year marked Yn's official introduction to the United States as Mr. Melgar's adopted daughter. She was often required to attend family gatherings and business parties, where Mr. Melgar would expect her to spend time with his business partners or use her as a bargaining tool. Yn was still undergoing training, as well as completing her final year of high school, but with the added pressure of attending these events. Despite Yuki and Zero's best efforts to protect her, there were times when things would still go wrong. To make matters worse, Mr. Melgar would send Yn on missions for his benefit or that of his allies, further testing her skills and fortitude.

The Fourth Year of Yn's training, she was 19 years old and was now fully trained in all aspects of survival, assassination, seduction, and acting as Mr. Melgar's daughter. She was now considered a top-notch Omega, one of the best in the world, and was sent on some of the most difficult and dangerous missions. Yn was tasked with tasks such as infiltrating high-security facilities, gathering intelligence, and taking out high-value targets. During this year, Yn continued to refine her skills and was often sent on solo missions.

In the Fifth Year of Yn's training, she was 20 years old and was now considered a seasoned professional. During this year, Mr. Melgar started to trust her more and more, sending her on more complex missions that required a higher level of skill and precision. Yn was now tasked with leading a team of Omegas on various missions and was responsible for their training and development. She was now considered a mentor to the other Omegas and was often called upon to provide guidance and support to them. Yn continued to work closely with Jolina, who had become a close friend and confidant.

During lunch, Mr. Melgar informed Yuki, Zero, and Yn about an upcoming business party hosted by one of his allies, at one of the finest hotels in California. He emphasized the importance of the guests attending and instructed Yuki and Zero to negotiate deals with them. If the negotiations fail, Mr. Melgar instructed them to threaten or steal information from the guests and to have Yn pay them a visit to ensure that no mistakes were made. He made it clear that someone would be observing their actions during the party. Yuki, Zero, and Yn acknowledged Mr. Melgar's instructions with a firm, "Yes sir, I understand."

After a fulfilling lunch, Yn retired to her room to relax and watch a Korean drama while browsing through YouTube. During this time, she received a notification from Janet, who was in California with BTS for an upcoming business party. Janet wanted to meet with Yn to catch up and discuss potential new partners and investment opportunities. Yn eagerly agreed and arranged to meet Janet at the Jolina Cafe & Bakery at 5 PM. After responding to Janet, Yn got ready for the meeting. She took her time to ensure she was comfortable and well-presented, while also concealing a gun and two daggers for safety. As she was leaving, she ran into Yuki and Zero and asked if they wanted to join her, to which they both agreed. The trio then set out together to meet Janet, ready to make the most of their time being outside.

The two arrived at the Jolina Cafe & Bakery and were seated in a private VIP room, as requested by Yn. She had approached the hostess and requested for a secluded space for her and Janet to catch up on each other's lives without any interruptions. The hostess, understanding the request, had one of the waiters prepare the room for their use. Before heading to the room with Yuki and Zero, Yn informed the hostess that she would be expecting additional guests and asked the hostess to kindly show them in when they arrive.

BTS was lounging in their rented apartment in California when they noticed Janet frantically leaving her phone on the sofa before hurrying to her room to get ready. One of the brothers picked up her phone and saw that she had made plans to meet someone at a Cafe at 5pm. They were hesitant to let Janet go with her usual bodyguards, so they decided that two of the brothers would accompany her while the others listened in on their earphones.

Janet and the two disguised brothers arrived at the Cafe and were led to the VIP room by the hostess. Inside the room, they saw a lady wearing a mask with two men standing behind her. As she approached, Janet realized it was Yn and they hugged each other, catching up on life in South Korea and discussing how BTS was doing. Yn then removed her mask, revealing her true identity, which shocked the brothers.

Yn took a deep breath and removed her mask before sitting down and ordering their drinks. Despite the relaxed atmosphere of the VIP room, Yn couldn't shake off the tension she was feeling. She glanced over at Janet's bodyguards and noticed the anger in their eyes. Although she couldn't understand why they were upset, she sensed that something wasn't right. Yn cleared her throat and asked Janet for a favor, sharing her concerns about the Omega's at the upcoming business party. She urged Janet to stay close to the BTS brothers and only bring bodyguards she trusted, warning her that something big was coming. Yn gave Janet a card with Jolina's picture, instructing her to show it to the hostess to be directed to her or her brothers in case of an emergency. After discussing the serious topic, they moved on to lighter subjects before Janet and her bodyguards departed.

As Yn sipped her drink, Yuki asked her if she had noticed the tension in the air after taking off her mask. Yn nodded and shared her observation of the bodyguards' anger. Yuki and Zero exchanged a look, wondering if they should mention that two of the BTS brothers were with them. Yuki suggested that they have a talk with them, and Zero agreed. Yn finished her drink and stood up, followed by Yuki and Zero. They left the VIP room and headed home.

After their outing, Janet and the two BTS brothers returned to their accommodations. Janet retired to her room to prepare for bed, while the brothers gathered in the meeting room to discuss the puzzling events that had just transpired. They were bewildered by the existence of two Yn's and questioned how such a situation could be possible. As they entered the room, they found the rest of BTS already seated, with the eldest, Jin, taking his place at the head of the table.

Jin turned his attention to the two youngest members, JK and V, and asked if what they saw was real. They confirmed that Yn was indeed alive and well, but they were taken aback by her companions, who posed as her bodyguards. The brothers explained that even before Yn removed her mask, her companions seemed to recognize BTS, and their certainty grew when Yn revealed her identity.

Feeling a headache coming on, Jin tasked RM and Suga with gathering underground information about Yn's past years. J inquired about the Yn currently with them, and the Hyung line exchanged glances before deciding to act as if everything was normal for now. They speculated that Yn had brought her companion to ensure she had a chance at a better life.

After further discussion, the group decided to call it a night, with everyone heading to bed, except for one person who remained deep in thought, pondering the mystery of the two Yn's and their unexpected connection to BTS.

In his room, JK sat on one of the sofa chairs, gazing out the window at the city lights, while sipping on a stiff drink. His mind was consumed with thoughts about the recent events at the cafe, where he encountered the real Yn, and the revelation of her existence left him astonished. He could feel in his soul that she was the true Yn he had been searching for all along.

Recalling the day when the fake Yn appeared, he understood why he couldn't be happy or relieved. He had always felt a deep connection to the real Yn, and now he knew why her sudden return had left him feeling unsettled. JK's thoughts drifted to the past years when Yn had disappeared without a trace, and how he and his Hyung's started training in secret while he continued his education.

As the months went by, he tirelessly sought information on Yn's whereabouts until, miraculously, she reappeared in one of their buildings. A surge of emotions overwhelmed him, and for a moment, his eyes turned red as his instincts took over. He had kept this knowledge to himself, not sharing with his Hyung's that Yn was indeed theirs. He discovered the truth when, a month after Yn's disappearance, his second gender emerged while he was lying on Yn's bed, surrounded by the scent of cherry blossoms.

The realization that Yn was back in their lives brought a mix of emotions, and JK knew that he had to tread carefully, especially since Yn had brought her companion to them. He took another sip of his drink, contemplating the complexity of the situation, and decided that he would be there for Yn, no matter what, as he was determined to protect and support her in this new chapter of their lives.

Janet roused from sleep as her alarm chimed, marking the beginning of a new day. She went about her morning routine, heading downstairs to find the boys had left for work earlier than usual. With the outside world deemed too perilous for her, Janet opted to immerse herself in the world of Kdrama, passing the time until the boys returned home.

Meanwhile, the boys convened in a secure location for a meeting with their trusted allies. Jin led the discussion, starting with updates on recent events before delving into the crucial matters at hand. Turning to Rm and Suga, Jin inquired about the progress in gathering information about Yn's whereabouts. Rm distributed copies of the gathered intel to the assembled group, providing a comprehensive overview of Yn's life and recent experiences.

As the details unfolded, JK's emotions boiled over, his anger palpable as he absorbed the information being shared. After Rm finished explaining, a consensus emerged among the group: they would maintain a low profile until they could safely bring Yn back into their territory, strategizing their next moves with caution and determination. The room buzzed with intensity as plans were formulated, each member of the group prepared to do whatever it took to reunite with Yn and ensure her safety.

Under the glittering chandeliers and amidst the lively chatter, Yn, Yuki, and Zero made their entrance to the party, their presence commanding attention. Yn, her arm interlinked with her brothers, scanned the room with a mix of curiosity and apprehension. Her gaze fell upon the four elder brothers of BTS, engaged in conversation with mysterious figures. A surge of frustration gripped her as she recognized them as associates of Mr. Melgar's clandestine empire. She knew all too well the kind of entertainment they would demand.

As they approached their father's associates, Yuki effortlessly mingled with the older members of Super Junior, while Zero engaged with the younger members. The origin of their friendship remained a mystery, guarded by unspoken agreements. Yn, ever inquisitive, decided to unravel this enigma.

While Zero went to fetch her drink, Yn mustered the courage to approach Siwon, a member of Super Junior, seeking answers. With a chuckle and a gentle pat on her head, Siwon teased her curiosity, leaving her with a sense of intrigue. Disappointed, she settled at a nearby table, her eyes wandering the room until they fixated on BTS's table.

Lost in thought, she tried to recall where she had seen their faces before. Her reverie was interrupted by Zero, who handed her a cocktail, a silent understanding passing between them. Yn sighed, her anticipation mingling with apprehension, as she took a bold gulp of the drink, bracing herself for the challenges the night might bring.

[dewitty1]

Fic Recs Wrap Up - December 2022 ｡ﾟ✶ฺ.ヽ(*´∀`*)ﾉ.✶ฺﾟ｡

At the end of our world by gnarf @gnarf

It took three days before the first hints were on the news, and a week before Harry spotted the first Infected on his own street. A month until there was no chance of stopping the panic, and six weeks until the government and Ministry fell. Then the TV stopped airing anything but a standby with the message ‘Stay safe’, and the world as he’d known it ended forever. Ten weeks later he got an answer from Hermione. “It spread. There’s no way back. We love you, Harry. Take care.” Rec Post

Kaleidoscope by Saras_Girl

If Harry’s honest, the last thing he needs is a house full of Draco Malfoy, but partners are partners, and perhaps, the thing he wants the least will turn out to be absolutely everything.  Rec Post

Loverboys by corvuscrowned @corvuscrowned

As post-war violence and tensions rise, it seems as if there’s no hope to unify the wizarding world. Except, maybe, a manufactured relationship between resident Saviour Harry Potter and known purveyor of the Dark Arts Draco Malfoy. (The fact that they detest each other is beside the point.)

But as Draco’s unrelenting mind games begin to wear him down, Harry has to remind himself that it’s all fake. The relationship is fake. The affection is fake. The pet names, the romance — even the engagement photos are fake.

But there’s something in Draco’s kiss that might just be real. Rec Post

The Truth About Love by waterwings @amywaterwings

In which Draco is a high-powered magical divorce lawyer and Harry is the Unspeakable assigned to seduce him. It goes as well as one might expect. Rec Post

Merlin’s Kitchen by Writcraft @writcraft

Merlin’s Kitchen is a shit nightclub but having sex with Harry Potter might improve things. Rec Post

1,000 Points From Gryffindor by @blithelybonny

The story of how Harry Potter single-handedly lost Gryffindor the House Cup while attempting to have a “normal” year at Hogwarts. Featuring Harry’s suspicious nature turned up to eleven again, a new DADA teacher who is so not here for Harry’s fame, multiple detentions, Slytherins being sneaky, Hufflepuffs being sneakier, and the mystery of Draco Malfoy’s hoodie because seriously Hermione who gave that to him and is he wearing it just to torment me? This is ridiculous! Rec Post

The Secret Keeper by fools_errand

written by @the-fools-errand with art by @razielim

On Halloween 1981, Albus Dumbledore made a decision that would change the course of history, concealing Harry Potter’s survival at the hands of Lord Voldemort underneath a Fidelius Charm. But when Harry comes of age in the Muggle world, Dumbledore realises too late that the fate of the world may depend on a boy who has never held a wand.

An unlikely team assembles to teach him everything he needs to know before the charm runs out, but only one of them knows the truth behind the Dark Lord’s return to power. If it were anyone else, Draco would have no problem turning them over to the Death Eaters, but there’s something about this certain bespectacled idiot that has him questioning everything he’s ever known.

Will Draco seal the fate of the wizarding world by uncovering the Chosen One or will Harry save Draco from a fate of his own? Rec Post

Feather by shushu_yaoi_lj @orange-peony

Green eyes greet Draco when he arrives at the school gates, ready to start his new job as a Hogwarts professor after spending ten years in France. “Hey,” Potter says, waving at him as he approaches. “We weren’t expecting you until the start of term.” Draco is speechless. What the fuck is Potter doing at Hogwarts? Rec Post

Chasing Shadows by manixzen @manixzen

The murder of Lucius Malfoy seems impossible—no cause of death, no traces of spell-work, no potions in his system. The only leads Harry and his partner have are the trail of missing wizards the deeper they go. That and the help of the victim’s estranged son who now spends his time bartending at a queer-friendly Muggle pub.

A case fic featuring a closeted Harry Potter, an out-and-proud, tattooed Draco Malfoy, and a murder mystery that seems to lead to more questions than answers. Rec Post

Here are a few more fics I've read recently that y'all might like to check out as well! (ﾉ^ヮ^)ﾉ*:・ﾟ✧

All I Want For Christmas (Is For You To Stop Talking) by Femme (femmequixotic) @femmequixotic, noeon (noe) @noeeon

The Niffler’s Garden is the most prestigious wizarding nursery school in England and has been for the last century or more. Harry Potter’s boys are both enrolled as pupils at the Garden. When he volunteers to assist with the Yule pageant, he has no idea that he’ll be working closely with another parent, Draco Malfoy. Although they haven’t seen each other much since their own school days, Harry faults Malfoy for not being a hands-on dad to little Scorpius. Will the intense weeks of preparation fan the fires of enmity or something else entirely? Rec Post

Butterflies in Winter by Justlikewriting

Of course Harry had known that Malfoy’d been sent to Azkaban, but, to be honest, since the trials Harry hadn’t really thought of the git at all anymore. A random visit to Slug and Jiggers was about to drastically change that, though.

And whose exactly were those letters that Harry found there?

You Know the Feeling by iota @sorrybut-blog

Harry waits, but the hex never comes. In the mirror, Malfoy’s eyes dip shut, and he lets out a soft sound that goes right through Harry, heat rising in his body, pushing out against his chest.

Malfoy turns slowly, careful not to dislodge Harry’s hand. He swallows, Adam's apple bobbing, then speaks, his voice low. “Don’t start something you won’t finish.”

***

Harry’s not sure why he’s started hooking up with Malfoy. Boredom, or the heat of the summer, maybe. Whatever it is, it’s nothing too complicated. Right?

Paper Rings by lettersbyelise @lettersbyelise

When Harry’s in need of a divorce lawyer, he has no choice but to turn to the best in the trade. Draco Malfoy’s reputation for discretion is flawless, and his track record for winning cases is close to perfect. But he’s also ruthless, passionate, and as infuriating as ever, and the brief relationship he and Harry had in Eighth Year still feels painfully fresh despite two decades spent apart.

What Harry and Draco used to be is all in the past. And surely they can work together in these new, emotionally charged circumstances without falling in love all over again… can’t they?

The Trouble with Wanting by waldorph @waldorph

Draco Malfoy is cleared of all charges; this is what happens next.

( •ॢ◡-ॢ)-♡ I hope you enjoy these fics as much as I have! Happy reading, y’all & I hope 2023 is good to you! Happy New Year! xoxo Carey  (◍•ᴗ•◍)♡ ✧*💜💙💚💛❤💗💕💖

[twilightknight17]

Today on P3R, we spend at least 3 days playing an MMO, let a small child steal our food, and head to The Club for a night of… well, actually we just popped in and then went home to go on the computer. Minato is me, for real. XDDDD

So it’s the start of Golden Week, which means days off school! Which means I can barricade myself in my room and play the game Junpei gave us!

We’re off to a great start. EP starts in October, and IS starts in August, so, close enough. I wonder what the plot is gonna be li--

...

......

.........

WELL. I guess he’s here in some small way, at least.

Of course, even when it’s a fake version of Phil, he’s just giving his vague speeches.

Thanks for the enlightening intro about anything that’s going on in this game, Phil. No other info is forthcoming. We just load into an area called Shinagawa Dungeon (which is not P2) and are immediately approached by another player.

...it’s 2009. It’s 2009. It’s 2009. I’m fine. X’D

Did people really ask “ASL” on MMOs?? I thought that was like a chatroulette/omegle/etc thing.

At least she’s nice, even if she talks like the most LOLSORANDOM 2009 Internet Girl.

...You can’t call me Tatsuya the whole game. You can’t. Aaaaaaa.

I’m having a stroke. Oh my god.

Anyway, Golden Week vacation is not a whole week, so it’s back to school on Thursday to guess my way through another class. At least I guessed right this time. But all my teachers continue to be completely ridiculous. None of them want to teach.

My education is suffering! Let’s go to track practice instead and worry about my physical health instead! Except wait, shit, Kaz has fallen down.

You are NOT fine! You collapsed!

He told his teammates he has anemia, but he confesses to Minato that his knee is fucked up. But he’s supposed to take over as team captain next year, and there’s a big national meet next year, so Minato has to keep it a secret.

Now I’m keeping secrets for TWO classmates. Good lord. Because Kenji wants me to keep it a secret that he’s gonna ask out the ethics teacher, so… grife. I guess I’m too used to P5, where most of my links involved making mutually beneficial deals. You guys are just… guys. XD Which isn’t bad, it’s just very different.

Anyway, Atlus, stop putting dudes on the track team and then giving them knee problems.

I’m also attending to my student council duties, and this dude needs to chill so bad.

Like… dude. The teachers at this school don’t give a shit, and you’re walking around like an army general.

My guy, it’s a single cigarette butt in the boys’ bathroom. This is not treason. Calm down. You’re gonna give yourself high blood pressure.

The manager of the track team walked home with us, and Minato got a new social link out of it. Which was interesting mostly just because it happened after track practice, so I got to do two things in one afternoon. Yuko is very nice, though.

I also went to the shrine to see the little girl, Maiko, and she pickpocketed my weird takoyaki and Mad Bull without actually asking. But I think that means that next time she’s there, she can be a social link too?

It’s been a day for social links, and the usual weird drinks.

I don’t know what happiness tastes like, but I’m suspicious as hell of that lemonade. It’s trying too hard to convince me. XD

The last thing I did around town was finally become courageous enough for Club Escapade! We are rocking out completely motionless up in the club.

I do like it here, though. And it gives me great reference pictures to use. XDDD I wish you had the option to dance, but nothing is perfect. I do wonder why the fortune-teller is in the nightclub, though. And the expensive accessory store???

The funny part is meeting the guy here so we can purchase URLs that lead to the dark web… and the first two lead to a random city rumor board, and an unofficial forum for the school. With… do we think this was renamed, or was it called this before and it’s just a call-forward?

SO. Now that we’ve stopped running around town, it’s the full moon, which means Mitsuru has detected another massive shadow! This one is camping out on the monorail leading to the island, so it’s going to be interesting getting there.

...like father, like son, lmao.

This was actually a pretty cool sequence. You do actually get to run down part of the tracks, but not before Junpei gets all pissy that Minato’s been put in charge again. As soon as you encounter the lesser shadows, he runs off to fight on his own.

It’s pretty clear what Junpei’s character arc is gonna be. We save his overconfident ass, and head for the front of the train.

Literally my worst nightmare, dude.

All the way at the front of the train, the Priestess shadow is driving it out of control, and looks… much more chill and tolerable than the Magician. XD It gives you a 30 minute time limit for the fight, which is fine… and then cuts that in half and in half again partway through. X’’’’D

I don’t do great with time limits. But we made it!

And did not die on the runaway train.

Hehehehe

Pharos promised to come see me afterwards, but he hasn’t yet. :(

Ah well, I guess, since I saved the world last night, I deserve to play my MMO all day on Sunday~

...I’m going to die. :’’’D

It is kind of funny how 2009 this is. You meet some random person online, and whoever they are, you just end up talking about random generic shit from your lives, no matter who’s an adult or who’s a teenager or whatever. In some ways, it was the best thing.

But now, time to log off. The phone is rin--

...never going to understand how the Velvet residents even have phones to call me with.

Anyway, I have been introduced to the Velvet door in Paulownia Mall, as well as Elizabeth’s requests. So next time, I guess it’s time to see what kind of nonsense she comes up with for me. But that’s two full moon shadows down, which means that barrier in Tartarus is down, too. So there will be lots to do!

[americanphysco]

Beach City

by Jaquira Diaz

-

We talked about Miami Beach like it belonged to us, convinced that the tourists who came down to swim in our ocean and dance in our nightclubs were fucking up our city. We were seventeen, eighteen, nineteen-year-old hoodlums, our hair in cornrows, too-tight ponytails, too much hairspray, dark brown lip liner, noses and belly buttons pierced, door-knocker earrings, jailhouse ankle tattoos. We didn’t have time for boys from Hollywood or North Miami, busters who drove their hoopties with the windows down because they didn’t have A/C, calling out to us trying to get phone numbers as we crossed Washington Avenue or Lincoln Road, our chancletas slapping the sidewalk.

What did they know about surfing during hurricane winds, fucking on lifeguard stands, breathing under water? What did they know about millions of stray cats pissing in the sand dunes, entire flocks of rogue seagulls dropping shit torpedoes, about refugees and kilos of cocaine and bodies washing up on our shores?

We were the ones who knew what it meant to belong here, to be made whole during full moon drum circles, dancing, drinking, smoking it up with our homeboys. We knew what it meant to bloody our knuckles here, to break teeth here, to live and breathe these streets day in, day out, the glow of the neon hotel signs on the waterfront, the salt and sweat of this beach city.

*

One night we parked Brown’s Mustang behind the skating rink on Collins, hoofed it to the beach. We took our bottles of Olde English and Mad Dog 20/20, the six of us passing a blunt and listening to 2Pac’s “Hit Em Up” blaring from somebody’s radio, and every time they sang, “Grab your Glocks when you see 2Pac,” the boys grabbed their dicks, and we all laughed our asses off. Brown danced, stripping off his clothes while we cheered him on, me and A.J. keeling over, slapping our knees. Flaca, China, and Cisco climbed to the top of the lifeguard stand, singing, “Go Brown! Go Brown!” When he was down to just boxers, Brown gave up, and we booed him, threw our balled-up socks and sneakers at him.

Me and A.J. were out behind the lifeguard stand, sand between our toes, feeling for each other in the dark. We ran around laughing and laughing, and I took his hand, danced circles around him in slow motion.

I don’t remember when A.J. first told me he loved me, or even if he told me, but I knew. I felt it every time he came around, every time our thighs touched while sitting together on China’s couch, or when the six of us had to squeeze into Brown’s Mustang and I sat sideways on his lap, my lip brushing against his ear, his arms around my waist. Or when we stayed up all night talking even though he had to get up early for school the next morning—something I didn’t have to worry about since I was a high school dropout. Or on nights when the liquor and the weed made my head spin, the heat and the high coming down on me all at once, and only A.J. around to keep me from falling.

Down by the shore, Brown was so fucked up he dropped to his knees, then lay down sideways on the sand. Later, we would all carry him back to his car. Flaca would drive us to her place a few blocks away. We would all stagger up the stairs to her little studio, put Brown to sleep in the bathtub, and smoke Newports on the balcony. He would wake up with the munchies an hour later. “You got any cheese?” he’d call out from the bathroom. Cisco would grab an entire pack of Kraft Singles from Flaca’s fridge, and the two of us would toss them into the tub, slice by slice, while Brown tried to catch them in his mouth.

But before all that, the six of us dancing and running around on the beach, China chugging down Mad Dog, Flaca and Cisco kissing on the steps of the lifeguard stand, and A.J. looking at me under the moonlight, a cloud of smoke all around us, I wrapped my arms around him and said, “Don’t let me go.”

We were laughing, hitting the blunt.

We were the faraway waves breaking, the music and the ocean and the heat rising rising rising, like a fever.

We were bodies made of smoke and water.

[citiesborn]

HEART SRISEVOK, THE OWNER OF NEXOS NIGHTCLUB

OOC INFORMATION

your alias, timezone, & pronouns: rainie, est, she/her muse’s name: heart srisevok tagging system link: tbd. [ baifern pimchanok, cis-woman, she/her ] Look who just landed! CHALIDA “HEART” SRISEVOK, I sure hope you packed all you need. Perhaps you’re not worried as THE OWNER of NEXOS NIGHTCLUB. The city has plenty of spots for a 33 year old HUMAN like you. You’ll be known in the city soon enough as THE HEDONIST, being CHARISMATIC and NARCISSISTIC. ( rainie, 23, EST, removed for discretion )

STATISTICS

full name: chalida zhong, heart srisevok nickname: while "heart" was originally a nickname she legally changed her named to heart upon arrival to mars. date of birth: may 27th, 2372 gender: cis female pronouns: she/her sexual orientation: lesbian romantic orientation: lesbian current age: thirty-three modification: human affiliation: nexos nightclub birthplace: new york city, new york, earth current neighbourhood: sora occupation: owner of nexos nightclub, information broker known languages: english, thai, mandarin

TRADITIONAL BIOGRAPHY

WHEN CHALIDA ZHONG FLEES EARTH in the dead of night she has three things in her bag. 1. twenty-thousand dollars in liquidated bills, a handle of kentucky bourbon - aged twenty years, and a pair of bedazzled dior sunglasses. when she lands on mars chalida zhong is dead and heart srisevok is born. raised on the upper east side of manhattan heart's childhood was a heady mix of swedish boarding schools, lunches at le bernandin, and sneaking out of the marble penthouses her father kept at different points in the city. her mother, much like her daughter was a bored socialite who had even less interest in having a daughter than she did in being married. her father was old money - fortune 500 conglomerates and caviar for breakfast. and in the middle of it all a young chalida desperate for some sort of attention. but her father's attention is domineering at the best of times and cruel at the worst. still she acts out, lashes out at anything she can - ruins business dinners and ends up on the cover of the social papers in handcuffs. when she was eighteen he demanded this behavior come to an end. she was getting married whether she wanted to or not. from that point on it became near impossible to leave the house. heart knew that just leaving new york wouldn't be far enough. so she liquidated her trust fund shoved what she could in boxes and bags and bought herself a first class ticket to mars. after she landed she shook off her old name. taking on her mother's maiden name and the nickname she'd had growing up. she quickly blew through her trust fund partying and in need of quick cash began escorting. due to heart's life in new york high society she blended seamlessly into the upper echelons of sora. her rates skyrocketed and more than money she began collecting information. by twenty-four heart had blackmailed her way into the upper ranks of sora. she'd amassed enough money to quite escorting entirely and opened nexos. it wasn't enough to run the most successful nightclub in new jakarta though. rumors ran through the place like water so heart gave her staff an objective. hear something? come tell her and reap a healthy bonus on top of an already generous salary. heart developed a reputation for knowing things. after all who wouldn't trust a beautiful woman in a pair of designer heels? what could she possibly do to betray some man who thought himself far more intelligent and savvy than her. for the right price she'd tell you the rumor she heard. of course if you wanted to thank her by sending her some sort of gift she'd never be upset by that.

INSPIRATIONS

pinterest: right here quote: "i will always be the virgin prostitute, the perverse angel, the two faced sinister and saintly woman." -anais nin. label: the hedonist tropes: ethical slut, loveable alpha bitch, hard-drinking party girl media parallels: samantha jones ( sex & the city ), faye valentine ( cowboy bepop ), brooke davis ( one tree hill ), ramona vega ( hustlers ) theme song: crazy girls by toopoor

PERSONALITY

positive traits: charismatic, intelligent, effervescent, loyal neutral traits: cynical, unconstrained, honest, outspoken negative traits: selfish, vindictive, narcissistic, jealous peeves: boring people, business meetings, slow walkers fears: spiders, being forgotten, her father skills: manipulation, drinking a whole bottle of top shelf tequila without dying, bitching goals: to become so rich and powerful she's untouchable

APPEARANCE

faceclaim: baifern pimchanok height: 5'5 eye colour: brown hair colour: brown clothing style: heart prefers skirts and dresses over pants. her clothes tend to be especially tight, revealing, and daring. she's typically the most overdressed person in the room and doesn't wear many shoes aside from heels and the occasional pair of boots. she's an admitted shopaholic with an enviable closet of designer clothes. jewelry: much like her clothing heart has an extensive collection of jewelry she cycles through based on her outfits. she's not particularly attached to any of the pieces tattoos: a small sun on her left hip fragrance: some variant of expensive designer perfume

[justforbooks]

Raquel Welch, who has died aged 82, had only three lines as Loana in the 1966 film fantasy One Million Years BC but attained sex-symbol status from the role, in which she was dressed in a fur-lined bikini. The image made its imprint in popular culture and the publicity poster sold millions. The feminist critic Camille Paglia described the American actor’s depiction as “a lioness – fierce, passionate and dangerously physical”.

The tale of cavepeople coexisting with dinosaurs was Welch’s breakthrough film – and the beginning of a largely unsuccessful battle she waged to be taken seriously as an actor. When she arrived on set, she told the director, Don Chaffey, she had been thinking about her scene. She recalled his response as: “Thinking? What do you mean you’ve been thinking? Just run from this rock to that rock – that’s all we need from you.”

Ursula Andress, who had emerged from the sea in another famous bikini for the 1962 James Bond film Dr No, had turned down the role of Loana. It went to Welch, on contract to 20th Century Fox, when the American studio agreed to hire her out to the British company Hammer Films.

Welch had to contend with critics who believed her looks to count for more than any acting ability she possessed. It was true that the film was pure kitsch and noteworthy only for Ray Harryhausen’s remarkable special effects with stop-motion animation creatures – and for making Welch a star.

Nevertheless, Welch later showed her aptitude for comedy when she played Constance, the French queen’s married seamstress in love with Michael York’s D’Artagnan, in the 1973 swashbuckler The Three Musketeers, directed by Richard Lester. The performance won her a Golden Globe best actress award and she reprised the part in The Four Musketeers: Milady’s Revenge (1974).

She increasingly took roles on television and worked up an act as a nightclub singer that she took across the US. She showed her performing mettle when she made her Broadway stage debut, taking over from Lauren Bacall in the musical Woman of the Year at the Palace theatre (1981-83). In an updating of the Katharine Hepburn-Spencer Tracy 1942 movie of the same title, she gave a show-stopping performance as the TV news personality Tess Harding.

“When she makes her first appearance in a low-cut gold lamé gown, her attributes can be seen all the way to the mezzanine,” wrote the New York Times critic Mel Gussow, unable to ignore what Welch brought to the stage visually. “It would be inaccurate to say that Miss Welch is a better actress than Miss Bacall, but certainly at this stage of her career she is a more animated musical personality.”

Around that time, Welch said: “I have exploited being a sex symbol and I have been exploited as one. I wasn’t unhappy with the sex goddess label. I was unhappy with the way some people tried to diminish, demean and trivialise anything I did professionally. But I didn’t feel that from the public.”

She was born Jo-Raquel Tejada in Chicago, Illinois, the first of three children, to Josephine (nee Hall) and Armando Tejada. Her father, an aeronautical engineer, was Bolivian. When Raquel was two, the family moved to San Diego, California, and, five years later, she joined the city’s junior theatre, attached to the city’s Old Globe, as well as starting ballet classes.

She said her father was volatile and terrifying, and she never saw any tenderness between her parents. One escape from this unsettled childhood came through putting on plays in the garage for friends and neighbours, using bedspreads for curtains.

On leaving La Jolla high school, San Diego, in 1958, she won a scholarship to study theatre arts at San Diego state college, but dropped out after a year to marry James Welch and became a weather presenter on KFMB, a San Diego television station.

After giving birth to two children, Damon and Tahnee, she left her husband, intending to follow her acting ambitions in New York. In the event, she worked as a model and cocktail waiter in Dallas, Texas, before moving to Los Angeles.

She was screen-tested by the producer Cubby Broccoli, who had seen her in a Life magazine photo-spread, for a part in the 1965 Bond film Thunderball, and signed up by 20th Century Fox. But a technicality involving start dates and contract options ruled out the Bond film and she was cast in Fantastic Voyage (1966), a big-budget sci-fi submarine saga, clad in a wetsuit.

After One Million Years BC, Welch – again in a bikini – played Lilian Lust, one of the Seven Deadly Sins, alongside Peter Cook and Dudley Moore in Bedazzled (1967), a comedy irreverently resetting the Faust legend in 1960s swinging London.

Burt Reynolds and Jim Brown were the stars when she brandished a shotgun in the 1969 western 100 Rifles – another action role. But Welch made clear to the director, Tom Gries, that she would not be following his instruction to run naked through the desert with the weapon. She also disregarded attempts to get her to shower under a water tower minus her shirt.

She returned to comedy for the satire The Magic Christian (1969) to play Priestess of the Whip alongside Peter Sellers’s millionaire who adopts the homeless Ringo Starr. She took top billing in Myra Breckinridge (1970), as a transgender movie critic, in a misjudged adaptation of Gore Vidal’s landmark novel.

Welch had the chance to shine in The Wild Party (1975), a period drama about the demise of silent pictures from the producer-director partnership of Ismail Merchant and James Ivory, in which she was cast as Queenie, the lover of a fading screen comedian. But she fell out with Ivory over a number of issues, for example refusing to do a bedroom scene nude. “From nearly the first day, we were at loggerheads,” he recalled, “and no professional relationship, no working relationship, was ever established.”

Switching to television brought Welch cameos in everything from the sitcoms Mork & Mindy (in 1979, as a villain from outer space) and Evening Shade (1993) to Lois & Clark: The New Adventures of Superman (in 1995) and CSI: Miami (in 2012). She also comically played a temperamental version of herself attacking Cosmo Kramer (Michael Richards) and Elaine Benes (Julia Louis-Dreyfus) in a 1997 episode of Seinfeld.

She had a regular role in the comedy-drama series Date My Dad (2017) as Rosa, former mother-in-law of Ricky (Barry Watson), trying with his three children to find him love again following the death of his wife.

In 1997, there was another stint on Broadway, in the musical Victor/Victoria. She replaced Julie Andrews, who was undergoing throat surgery, for the final seven weeks of its run at the Marquis theatre. Variety described Welch as “at best a pleasantly passable singer”, suiting “the costumes better than she does the vocal and acting requirements”.

She returned to the cinema with a cameo role in the romcom Legally Blonde (2001), starring Reese Witherspoon. Her last film was How to Be a Latin Lover (2017).

Welch was married and divorced four times. She is survived by Damon and Tahnee, and by her brother, Jimmy.

🔔 Raquel Welch (Jo-Raquel Tejada), actor, born 5 September 1940; died 15 February 2023

Daily inspiration. Discover more photos at http://justforbooks.tumblr.com

[courtingchaos]

MEG

I would love to know 16 & 7 👉👈

16. A song that makes you think of an old (or current) crush

A boy I had a HUGE crush on in high school gave me a list of punk bands to listen to. To be fair he was being condescending to me because he thought my love of pop punk was gross, and he didn’t even include Iggy or his Stooges on that list, but I found them on my own in the end and I still have that list in a keepsake box.

7. A song you know every word to

Of course I know this by heart 🥴

[fr0stbytes]

❛  𝚈𝙾𝚄  𝙲𝙰𝙽  𝙷𝙰𝚅𝙴  𝙼𝚈  𝙷𝙴𝙰𝚁𝚃  ...  𝙸𝙵  𝚈𝙾𝚄  𝙷𝙰𝚅𝙴  𝚃𝙷𝙴  𝚂𝚃𝙾𝙼𝙰𝙲𝙷  𝚃𝙾  𝚃𝙰𝙺𝙴  𝙸𝚃  . ❜

𝚂𝚃𝙰𝚃𝙸𝚂𝚃𝙸𝙲𝚂

full  name:  irina  kristina  leano

name  meaning:  of  greek  origin  meaning  ‘peace’

age:  twenty  -  five

date  of  birth:  march  22

zodiac  sign:  aries

gender:  cis  female  ,  she  /  her

sexuality  &  romantic  orientation:  bisexual  ,  heteromantic

family:  mother  -  maja  leano   ,  father  -  hannes  sandberg 

radiant  status:  not  applicable

duration  of  stay:  resident  ,  twelve  years

pre  -  mercy  job:  dancer , bartender

post  -  mercy  hopes:  biomedical  agent

playlist:  tokyo  drifting  by  glass  animals  ,  ain’t  no  rest  for  the  wicked  by  cage  the  elephant  ,  born  for  this  by  the  score  ,  i’m  so  sorry  by  imagine  dragons

𝙱𝙰𝙲𝙺𝙶𝚁𝙾𝚄𝙽𝙳

content  warnings  :  mentions  of  violence , alcohol  abuse

━  kicked  out  of  home  at  seventeen  because  her  mother  was  an  alcoholic + managed  to  get  out  of  foster  care  by  lying  about  her  age  and  with  the  help  of  the  talents  of  her  high  school  friends  in  making  fake  documentation ━  father  was  never  around  but  every  now  and  then  gave  a  fat  whad  of  cash  for  birthdays  and  holidays  which  she  had  saved  up  for  rent  at  a  grotty  little  place   ━  had  aspirations  to  become  a  dr  or  a  paramedic,  tried  to  save  up  a  lot  for  tuition  by  becoming  a  dancer  at  clubs/bartending/receptionist  at  18  -  met  some  dodgy  people   ━  was  invited  to  join  mercy  when  someone  witnessed  her  “overreacting”  with  a  customer  at  the  nightclub  she  worked  at  and  almost  beat  up  a  guy  twice  her  size   ━ has  been  a  junior  agent  every  since  the  age  of  21   ━  character  inspo:  alexis  rose  (  and  a  bit  of  the  hulk  tbh  )    she  loves  pretty  and  shiny  things  ,  she’s  quite  superficial  and  may  value  things  and  people  by  how  they  look . she  is  also  unapologetically  short  -  tempered  

𝙲𝙾𝙽𝙽𝙴𝙲𝚃𝙸𝙾𝙽𝚂

━  ALL PLEASE

[setagaya-division]

Elliot's Thoughts on Second Members

Jiro Yamada

"Jiro-kun? I have a few classes with him. I think he's in his last year, so because of that, he doesn't have many classes. He's, uh... he's a nice guy, sometimes. I mean, he doesn't tease or bully me, but... we don't really associate with each other much. He seems to be surrounded by people, either friends or fans. Me, I'm more content to be by myself."

Jyuto Iruma

"I don't know Jyuto-san much. ...And forgive me for saying that, but I'm not really upset about that. I heard that, even though he's a cop, he does some... less than savory things to get the job done, which I don't really agree with. I heard his goal is to eliminate all drugs from Japan, which is a good goal. ...But I don't like how he's going about it. But I guess I shouldn't complain. I mean, I doubt a cop like him would have any business with me or my siblings..."

Gentaro Yumeno

"I've never met him, but some of Gentaro-san's books are required reading for my English class. Some of my peers complain his books are difficult to read and understand. But me, I actually like most of the books that Professor Ryūzō has chosen for us by him. They're really thought-provoking."

"...I feel sorry for some of the students who don't read his books. If they gave it a chance, I think they'd really like it. ...But then again, I think that's why Ryūzō-sensei frequently has quizzes everyday to see whose read the book or not..."

Hifumi Izanami

"I don't know much about Hifumi-san, unfortunately. Not really surprising since he's an adult and I'm just a high school student. Even if we were of the same age, I don't think it'd matter much. He's a professional host at a popular nightclub, which isn't my scene. I admire him for being able to take to women though, despite his fear of approaching them."

Rosho Tsutsujimori

"I really like Rosho-sensei's class, even if, like Umemoto-sensei, he can't always work up the nerve to teach because of his fear of large crowds. Some of my classmates like to make fun of, or talk behind his back because of this, which I really dislike. You shouldn't make fun of a person just because of their shortcomings. I wish more people would realize that."

"When he can teach, Rosho-sensei is a really good instructor. He's always willing to explain to those who don't understand the process, and generally seems to care for his students. He's... he's helped me once or twice when he sees I'm being bullied, but I know I can't always rely on him to help because, like Umemoto-sensei, he dislikes crowds. But still, I'm grateful to him when he does help me out."

Jyushi Aimono

"Believe it or not, I do know and am friends with Jyushi-kun. He was close to finishing school when my siblings and I first entered high school. I could relate to him cause he and I were both shy. I knew he liked to carry around his pet pig, Amanda. I didn't make fun of him or tease him for this, though. I actually thought it was really cute! He said it was a gift to him from his grandmother, which was really sweet."

"...Speaking of his grandmother, I heard about her death from those bullies that tormented Jyushi-kun. Stuff like that... it really upsets me. I don't mind if you want to torment me, but don't involve my friends or family. I wasn't sad at all to hear that they all got arrested and are serving time. ...But I am sad that I wasn't there to help Jyushi-kun. I was so scared of being their next target..."

Elliot looks away, disgusted at himself, as he tries to stop his tears from coming. He fails and runs off the screen.