#and you better believe I’m getting my money’s worth

[pedulum-chronometry]

You misunderstand.

Of course life is a scam. You get too little. You have too little control. It can be over far too quickly. Inequality is fact rather than idea. You must scrape and whiteknuckle it to get through. But what do you do with that information?

Will you dedicate yourself to fixing what unfairness you can? Will you channel your large and roiling feelings about it into art? Or will you spend what time you have cherishing the family (found or otherwise) and friends that you managed to find in this life?

What you choose to spend your time and energy on in this inherently unfair and brutal world is what gives meaning and weight to life.

Of course life’s a scam but that just means you get to scam life right back.

A scam, by definition, is about taking something from you without giving you enough in return or anything at all. So take stuff back or stop giving it so much.

Don’t want to adhere to some expectation or norm? Going to college, having kids, dressing normally, sleeping at night and being awake during the day? Then don’t. Fuck that shit!

Dress in period clothing when going grocery shopping. Get a night job. Adopt pets or plants.

Honestly one of the best things for my mental health was figuring out what made me happy and unapologetically pursuing that.

Find what things you can that bring you joy and pursue them. Chase that happy. It won’t fix everything but in an unfair world you’ve got to take what you can get with two hands and drop whatever doesn’t work for you. If you’re already here and don’t have much of a choice, you might as well enjoy the ride a bit more.

I think life is a scam, actually.

[magpiesbones]

worst thing about being disabled is that now I am fully and completely aware of exactly how much I am worth to everyone I know. And it is not a lot!!

[badjokesbyjeff]

There were three race horses; ernie, bill, and ted. 

the three of them were good friends; they enjoyed racing each other and generally won and lost to each other equally. every evening, after the races, they went to a local bar to relax and drink some beer. they would often discuss racing techniques, their families, etc.

one season, bill wasn't doing so well. he rarely beat the other two, and was worried that he'd be sent to the glue factory if his luck didn't change. one night, at the bar, he talked with ernie and ted about it.

"you know, guys, i just can't figure it out," he said. "everything's fine at home; the kids are doing great, my wife is being nice, the bills are paid, my mother-in-law rarely visits - nothing could be better. maybe i'm just getting old. if things don't pick up soon, they'll send me to the glue factory."

the bartender, a big llama from peru, overheard the conversation. he looked around, to make sure nobody else was listening, then said, "hey, pal, i got something for you that'll make you feel like a young colt again." he reached under the bar and pulled out an unlabeled bottle of beer. "here, drink this; i guarantee you'll start winning again. come by each night for a week and I'll give you one. if it doesn't work, i'll give you double your money back!"

bill looked at ernie and ted, who only shrugged, then drank the contents of the bottle. "oh, just one thing," the llama said, "it'll make your ass itch, but that's okay; it's just a side effect. don't worry about it." the three horses stayed a few hours, played a few games of pool and darts, and went home.

over the course of the next three days, they went back to the bar each night, and bill continued the regimen of mystery beer. his racing times did improve! he was slowly moving back up in the rankings, and was soon back into the top three with ernie and ted. bill was ecstatic, and thanked the llama profusely.

"hey, my pleasure," said the llama.

a few weeks passed by, and ernie started slowing down. after losing three races in a row, he sobbed to himself, "i just don't get it. my life couldn't be better. i can't believe I'm getting old! they'll send me to the glue factory if i don't get back in the groove!"

that evening, at the bar, he told the llama bartender about his troubles, and asked if he too could try the mystery beer. "okay, but remember, it'll make your ass itch - but don't pay it no mind. it's just a harmless side effect."

"no problem. it'll be worth it to get back in the groove," ernie said.

a few days went by. ernie's ass did indeed itch, but after a few more days, his races improved, and he was back in the top three with bill and ted.

at the bar one evening, ernie bought a round of beers for all the horses, and thanked the llama profusely.

"i just can't believe how great that mystery beer worked!" ernie said. "you're sitting on a gold mine, there!" the llama said it was his pleasure, don't worry about it, etc.

a few more weeks went by, and now ted started slowing down, losing races. he, too realized that he'd be shipped off to the glue factory unless his races improved.

"say," he said to the llama one night after a particularly humiliating loss, "i think i need to try that mystery beer too. they'll ship me off to the glue factory for sure if I don't start winning again."

"no problem," the llama said, pulling out an unlabeled bottle. "here. come back every night, and i guarantee you'll be back in top form again, or i'll give you double your money back."

over the course of the next few weeks, ted's races continued to improve until he was back in the top three with bill and ernie. he pranced into the bar, full of vim and vigor, and thanked the llama profusely. "you know, my ass itches a lot; it's almost unbearable. but i can't thank you enough. they would have turned me into glue by now if it weren't for you. anything you want, let me know and i'll see what i can do."

"no problem," said the llama, "i make this beer at home using an ancient inca recipe. it's just my way of thanking my regular customers for their patronage over the years."

"i'm not kidding," ted said, "this is the greatest thing that's ever happened to me. anything, you name it, anything you want, let me know, and it's yours."

"well, now that you mention it..." the llama began -

right then, a greyhound walked up to the bar. he was obviously depressed.

"barkeep, give me something strong. i'm on a losing streak you wouldn't believe," the greyhound said.

ted looked at the greyhound, then at bill and ernie, and said, "hey, look! a talking dog!"

[dr-spencer-reids-queen]

It's Okay To Ask For Help

Pairing: Spencer Reid x Female!Reader

Word Count: ~2.4k

Warnings: angst, unwanted touching (grabbing one's ass without permission), creepy men

Summary: Things don’t look good from where you are. You work at a run-down bar, you’re a single mother trying to keep a roof over your head, and you’re trying to give your daughter the childhood she deserves. You don’t see yourself going up from here until reconnect with Spencer Reid.

Square Filled: bartender au (2022) for @spencerreidbingo

Author’s Note: any and all comments are appreciated <3

x

“Sweetheart! Another round!”

You have to keep the disgust off your face as you pour the man another round of whatever he is drinking. Sweetheartisn’t the worst thing you’ve been called at your job, but it’s the way he said it that has your skin crawling. You slide him the beer and pull your hand away fast enough before he can reach out and touch you. He grabs his beer and goes back to talking to his friend but keeps one eye on you.

You move to the other patrons of the bar and push the creepy man out of your mind. It’s not that you hate this job, you hate the people that come in. You’re the only female bartender which warrants unwanted attention from men nearly twice your age. Your boss isn’t any better as he usually lets this type of behavior slide, but at least he doesn’t try to touch you every hour.

The alcohol is running low so you step off to the side to grab some more while your coworker mans the bar. You walk into the back and bend over to grab two bottles when you feel someone press against your ass.

“Damn, baby, I have been thinking about this ass ever since I stepped foot in the bar.”

You stand up so fast that you would have gotten dizzy if it hadn’t been for the stranger groping your ass.

“Get your hands off me!” You turn and push the man away. “You’re not even supposed to be back here!”

“Come on, darling, just give me ten minutes of your time. I promise to make it worth your while.”

You’d slap him if you thought that would keep him away from you. Fucker probably likes that shit.

“No! Get the fuck out of here!”

You’re loud enough to cause your boss to enter the back room, and you look at him with wide eyes that have tears threatening to spill out.

“What’s going on here?”

“Sorry, man, I was trying to find the bathroom.”

“It’s the other hallway,” your boss points.

“Right. Thanks, man.”

You don’t wait for the door to fully close before talking to your boss.

“That man was lying. He came in here and grabbed my ass! I want him thrown out of the bar!”

“Whoa, calm down. That man has paid a lot of money tonight. I’m not going to just throw him out,” your boss sighs.

“He grabbed my ass. Don’t you care that he assaulted me?”

“Don’t be overdramatic. I’m sure he was just looking for the bathroom and accidentally knocked into you.” Your mouth opens. You can’t believe your ears. “Kevin is getting swamped out there. Get the alcohol and get back to work.”

You stay in the back room and cry for the next ten minutes. You’d quit if you didn't need this job. You have a daughter at home to support, and her father is only doing the minimum to help you. The court ordered him to pay you a thousand dollars a month for child support, and that barely covers your rent. You still have to work long hours just to put food on your table. You can’t afford to lose this job because no other place will hire you.

You’ve applied for other places and have even gotten an interview once, but nothing ever came of it. It’s like they back out as soon as they hear you’re a bartender at this bar, or the fact that you’ve got tattoos that you can’t exactly cover up with normal clothes. You don’t have any on your face or neck, but you do have some on your hands and chest. Darren, your boss, only hired you because of the way you look in a crop top--at least that’s what you believe.

You wipe your tears and join Kevin behind the bar to continue as if nothing ever happened. The man is gone but that only; means two more people just like him replace him. The only thing getting you through this shift is the fact that your sister is kind enough to watch Delilah until you get off at five in the morning. She’s agreed to the arrangement since she leaves for work around the same time you get off.

You’re saving what you can even if it’s only fifty bucks a paycheck, but it’s not nearly as much as you’d hope. Something needs to change or else you’ll drown in pain.

The rest of the shift goes by relatively smoothly, and you leave just as the sun is peeking over the horizon. You drive to your sister’s house where she is getting her lunch ready for work. Her husband is already out of the house since he’s a contractor and works before the sun is out, and Delilah is still in her pajamas watching cartoons in the living room.

“Hey, are you okay?” she asks.

“No. Just a rough night, I guess.”

“You really should look into getting another job.”

“Yeah, I know,” you sigh. “Are you ready, Delilah?”

“Yes, Mommy!”

You leave with your daughter and head back home where you get her ready for school. You drive her to the bus stop and watch as she gets on. After the bus has left, you manage to make it home without crying. As soon as you step through the door, the waterworks are in full effect. Once that dam has been opened, it’s hard to close them. After a quick shower, you crawl into bed to try and get some sleep. You don’t have blackout curtains so the light still shines through the dark curtains, allowing you to see all the artwork you’ve hung on the walls.

You’re a good artist but you can never make any money off it. If you could, you’d be doing that full-time instead of bartending to a bunch of assholes. You manage to fall asleep until three when you leave to pick Delilah up from school. Your shift starts at seven in the evening so you have a little time to spend with your daughter before dropping her off at your sister’s.

“How was school, baby?”

“Good! I got to sit next to Lily today. Her and her Daddy are going to the fish zoo this weekend. Can we go?”

You chuckle at what she calls an aquarium. Your smile is lost when you think about Lily and who her dad is.

“You mean Lily Reid?”

“Yeah. Can we go? Pretty please?”

“Sure, baby. That sounds fun.”

You’ll have to work a double in order to pay for it, but you’ll do it if it means giving your daughter a normal childhood. Back before you had your daughter, you used to live right next door to a man named Spencer Reid. You two were joined at the hip and did everything together, often spending the night in each other’s apartments to keep each other company. You never did figure out how you felt about him until he left for the FBI academy.

By then, it was too late. You haven’t seen him since.

There are rare times when you see Spencer drop his daughter off at school before he goes to work, but you hear about him more than you see him. Delilah and Lily have a lot of after-school playdates at your sister’s house when you have to go to work early or need a bit more sleep, so you hear about Spencer from your sister. She knows about the two of you and often tells you about how he’s doing. She’s rooting for the both of you even though you don’t think he’d be interested in you now.

It was rough work but you managed to make it to the weekend without too much of a problem. Kevin agreed to take your shift on Saturday so that you can spend it with your daughter, and you agreed to take his Monday so he can have at least two days off in a row.

“Come on, Mommy!”

Delilah practically drags you into the aquarium hoping that Lily is there waiting for her. Spencer and Lily aren’t there yet so you two decide to wait in the large waiting area. The place is a large glass tunnel where you have an unobstructed view of every sea creature swimming by. Due to the excess water, the entire room has a blue hue to it. Delilah is mesmerized by the animals and runs over to the glass to press her face into it. You’re kind of nervous at seeing Spencer after all this time because you finally figured out how you felt about him after he left.

You were in love with him… you might still be.

You take out your phone and take pictures of her posing in front of the animals and some when she’s not even paying attention. She looks to the right and squeals when she sees her best friend.

“Lily!!”

You watch the two little girls run and hug each other, and your eyes lock on Spencer’s. Seven years apart but it feels like no time has passed when you look into his eyes. The girls go off to explore while still being close enough to you and Spencer.

“It’s been a long time. How have you been?” you ask.

“Still in the FBI and catching bad guys.”

“That’s so cool to be in the FBI.”

“Not as cool as you might think. How have you been? What are you up these days?”

“Bartending at the moment. Remember Skull Bar?”

Spencer stops walking and looks at you in shock. “You’re still bartending here? Didn’t you hate that place?”

He must remember the nights when you’d come home crying because you hated how you were treated by sleazy customers.

“I still do, but what am I going to do? I have Delilah to support, and it’s not like her father is helping much. I should ask for more since he is making a lot of money, but I haven’t had time to go to the courts.” You two continue walking after both of your daughters. “I miss living next to you.”

That’s your way of telling him you miss him dearly even if he doesn’t pick up on it.

“You know, the apartment next to mine just opened up. You two can move there. I know Lily would love it.”

It hurts knowing your lives would be much better staying at a place that doesn’t have broken appliances, but how will you ever afford it? You can barely afford the dump you live in now.

“Spencer, it’s a nice thought but it’s not like I can afford it. I make good tips but bartending barely puts food on my table. I can barely afford the twenty-five hundred dollar rent I have now. Apartments in the city cost a lot more. I appreciate the offer, though.”

“Are you still drawing? I remember you always making me something. You were and probably still are incredible.”

“Some but it doesn’t pay the bills, so I had to put it on the back burner.”

“You’re talented enough to make it a career.”

“Well, when you know of a job that will benefit me, let me know.”

Spencer nods in thought and you two continue to walk after your kids in silence. His phone rings and he steps off to the side to take the call while still following the girls. You look at Spencer and admire him without him knowing about it. He’s grown a lot since you last saw him not only physically but mentally. He must have been through a lot of shit to have that faraway look in his eyes.

He ends the call ten minutes later and walks back over to you. Lily and Delilah are busy petting the sting rays which will give you another twenty before they’re ready to move on.

“I’m going to say something, and I don’t want you to shut it down immediately. I want you to think about it,” Spencer says.

“Okay…”

“My team is looking for a sketch artist, and I know you’d be perfect for the job. You have the skill. It pays well, better than bartending, and the benefits are so much better. You and Delilah would be taken care of.”

You gasp at the thought of finally leaving that shit hole, but you remember the promise you made Spencer. You bite your lower lip to prevent yourself from denying it. After two minutes of thinking about it, you release your bottom lip.

“What do you think I’d say to that?”

“That you’re not a charity case and you don’t need help.” He’s right. You would have said that. “Just think about it. Think about Delilah. It’s still within the school’s boundaries so she doesn’t have to switch.”

You look at Delilah and Lily who are laughing from the water the sting rays are splashing. This job would offer you a more normal schedule and allow you to spend more time with her. You’d be able to provide her with a better childhood.

“Your office is on the other side of town from where I live. My car isn’t that great.”

“I know of a place a lot closer,” he smirks.

“Is this a ploy to get me to move in next to you?”

He shakes his head with a smile. “Sometimes people need help, and it’s okay to ask for help. That doesn’t make you a bad mom or a bad person. It makes you strong because you’re doing it to get better.”

Tears well in your eyes at the opportunity being presented to you. You don’t hesitate to give him your answer.

“I’ll take it.”

You pull Spencer in for a hug and wrap your arms around his neck. Spencer wraps his arms around your waist and closes his eyes from the feeling of you being back in his arms. You pull away from him but don’t step away from him. He glances down at your lips wanting to kiss you but not wanting to overstep.

“You owe me ten bucks,” Lily says loud enough for you two to hear. “Look at them. They’re gonna kiss. I told you bringing them here was a good idea.”

You giggle at the thought of both of your daughters being little masterminds. Well, if money is on the table, you better make Lily ten bucks richer. You lean up and kiss Spencer, finally feeling like everything is right in the world.

x

Want to be tagged? Follow my library blog @aqueenslibrary​​​​​​ where I reblog all my stories, so you can put notifications on there without the extra stuff :)

[biolumien]

friendly blows

soshiro hoshina x gn!reader smile and wave everyone. there may be the slightest bit of suggestive dialogue but that's bc hoshina's a fucker word count: 1091

“Do you take great pleasure in beating the shit out of me or something?” you pant from where you lay on the floor. As you attempt to sit up, you wince, holding your rib. “You kicked me in the fucking rib, Hoshina-”

“Ah, pshaw. Didn’t hit it hard enough to properly break it,” Hoshina says, waving his hand dismissively. “You’ll live. I know your limits better than you, I think. After all, I spend so much time staring at your vitals in HQ anyway… I know what’s fragile about you. And besides, I’m not trying to kill you. You’ll be fine.” He wipes sweat from his jaw, one of his crimson eyes opening as he smirks down at you, a wink. He extends his hand out to you. “Up on your feet, soldier. Got a bit more fight left in ya, I can tell.”

“You’re a bastard,” you grouse, reaching out your hand to grasp his as you begin to pull yourself up–

And then Hoshina retracts his hand, and you fall right back onto the ground.

“Fucker!” you grumble as Hoshina begins to chuckle.

“Ohh, I’m sorry, I’m sorry… had to, had to. If you still have the energy to mouth off I’m sure you have more than enough energy to fight me.” Hoshina teases, though his expression seemed a little more serious. “You’re the one who wanted to fight me, let’s not forget. I’m just giving you your money’s worth.”

You growl, pressing your hands against the training room’s mats as you push yourself up, still rubbing at where Hoshina had kicked you before. You ready yourself into a sparring position, and Hoshina simply just stares at you, a teasing smirk on his face.

Pure cockiness.

You’ve been fighting for close to thirty minutes–it’s felt like an eternity, in any case. He’s seen most of your moves, and the ones he hasn’t seen, he’s been able to predict with relative ease. 

Hoshina moves fast–almost too fast for your eyes to process, his foot swinging out to kick you in the side, and you manage to jump out of the way just in time for his swing to find no purchase. He laughs, winding up his arm to slam a punch towards your face. You hold up your hands fast enough to block the blow and grit your teeth as Hoshina bears down on you with the punch, forcing his whole weight onto you.

“Not bad,” Hoshina says. “You’re getting better at predicting my moves.”

Focusing’s taking too much of your time, so you simply huff.

“Ahh, there it goes,” Hoshina teases. “Can’t mouth off if you’re too busy trying to focus on not getting hit, right?”

A sudden punch to your stomach scatters your focus immediately as he swings his leg, his foot hooking your ankle and causing you to slam against the ground with a thud. 

You cough as the impact takes all the air out of your lungs, and Hoshina leans over you. 

“You alive?” he teases, baring his teeth. 

Fucker.  

“Oh, plenty alive,” you rasp, reaching up to grab him by the collar. 

As he yelps—it’s a cute sound, to hear him caught off guard—you hook your leg around the back of his knee and he collapses against you, barely avoiding smashing your heads together by bracing himself against the mat. After a bit of struggling, you flip your positions so that you’re pinning him against the mat with a hand pressed against his sternum, your legs bracketing his thighs to keep him from moving. 

Hoshina’s eyes are fully open, staring at you as his chest heaves. He pants, and you’re furtively grateful he’s not making some kind of smart remark.  

“What was that, you said? If you have the energy to mouth off… something like that? Where’s all your fight now?” you gasp out, pressing your hand down harder. 

Hoshina wheezes. 

“Oh, believe me, pretty thing, I’ve got more fight left in me than you could ever imagine,” Hoshina says, his eyes meeting yours as suddenly you feel yourself buckling. Hoshina pushes you back with a gentle hand, as if you’re barely any weight to him at all, shuffling your bodies–

“Hey–” you protest as he flips you onto your front, pinning you to the mat with a knee to the small of your back and holding your arms back with a hand. “I got you that time!”

“You did,” Hoshina amends. “You can get some praise for that, if you want. Ohh, you did so well,” his voice lilts as he leans forward, his lips brushing against your ear. “Keep it up, and maybe you can pin me down for longer…”

Your face flushes.

“Going red? How cute,” Hoshina says. “Well… hm. Let’s end training here for today.” He pulls back, letting you get up. 

“You bastard,” you say, your hands coming up to your face to assess how flushed your cheeks are. It might just be because of the training, but you feel like you’re on fire, somehow.

“Mm, I’ll take that as a compliment,” Hoshina says, holding up a water bottle to you. “Here. Good work today.” 

You unscrew the water bottle, drinking about half the bottle, crushing the plastic in your grip as you do. Hoshina watches with bemusement in his eyes.

“I just feel like I’m not getting better,” you say frustratedly. “When I fight you it just feels like I just forget about everything else I’ve learned.” “Aww, don’t let that get you down,” Hoshina teases. “You’re doing great against me. Most people can’t even land a hit on me, you know! And you kept me pinned down for… longer than anyone could say they had before.” He seemed almost embarrassed to admit it, pressing a hand to the back of his neck. 

“You’re making fun of me,” you say. “Aren’t you?”

“No,” Hoshina says after a moment, a smile approaching this side of genuine crossing his lips. “You’re doing great against me. I look forward to the day where you can beat me. Let me see your hand for a sec?”

You extend your hand for a second, wondering what he’ll do–

Hoshina simply kisses your bruised knuckles, holding your hand gently. You think you might be dead, hallucinating, or something, with the way your heart stops for a moment–and then the moment’s over, because Hoshina has parted from you, letting go of your hand.

“Text me if you ever want to spar again,” he says, turning away from you. 

“Hoshina–” you start, but he’s already gone.

Fucker.

[koiiiji]

lookism x teaching them your language

author’s note ; someone here is specially for @imtomiee 💋 also correct me if i used some words wrong way!!

tw ; swearing words on different languages! fluff

GOO KIM — RUSSIAN

evening air was cool, but the vibe in the room was anything but. you were lounging on the couch with Goo, your legs tangled together in a comfortable mess, a playful banter going back and forth as it often did when the two of you were together. Goo, ever the curious one, had recently taken an interest in learning a few words from your native language—russian.

of course, knowing Goo, it wasn’t the polite phrases he wanted to learn.

“so, what’s the next one?” Goo asked, his signature smirk plastered on his face as he leaned in closer, his eyes sparkling with mischief. you raised an eyebrow, thinking for a moment before deciding to go all in. “alright - alright, how about this one — poshel nahui.”

Goo’s eyes widened slightly, intrigued by the sound of the words. he tried repeating it, stumbling over the unfamiliar syllables. “po…poshel nahui?”

you couldn’t help but laugh at his attempt. “gosh, babe, you’re doing such a great job,” you teased, leaning in to plant a quick kiss on his cheek. “you sure you don’t know russian? or maybe in a previous life been russian?”

Goo’s grin widened, clearly pleased with your praise. “really? what does it mean?” he asked, his curiosity piqued. you tilted your head, giving him a sly smile. “it’s like… sending someone on the dick.”

Goo’s eyes lit up with amusement, and he laughed, the sound rich and warm in the small space. “but i don’t want anyone else except you on my dick!” he declared, his tone both playful and his arm snaking around your waist to pull you closer. you rolled your eyes, playfully shoving him away, though you couldn’t help the smile tugging at your lips. “it’s not necessarily yours, hun,” you quipped, leaning in to whisper in his ear. “you can send them on Gun’s dick.”

the smirk that spread across Goo’s face was devilish, and he let out a low chuckle, clearly entertained by the idea. “oh, i’m definitely using that one,” he said, a mischievous glint in his eyes as he leaned in to capture your lips in a brief, but heated kiss.

PARK JUNGUN — ARABIC

you and Jungun were lounging on the couch, both scrolling through delivery apps, the familiar debate simmering just below the surface.

“how about we order Italian tonight?” you suggested, your mouth watering at the thought of creamy risotto and cheesy pizza. Jungun’s eyebrows shot up, and he leaned back with a sly grin. “italian? seriously? we just had that last week. i want sushi,” he declared, his tone dripping with playful arrogance.

you crossed your arms, feeling a familiar annoyance bubble up. “but sushi is so… predictable! italian has variety, flavor, and soul! plus, you can’t deny that a good lasagna is perfect comfort food.”

he chuckled, shaking his head dismissively. “comfort food? you mean your heavy, cheesy dishes that weigh you down? sushi is light and refreshing. it’s an experience, not just a meal.”

“an experience that costs a fortune! at least with Italian, you get value for your money. you can’t tell me sushi is worth the price when half of it is just rice!” you could feel your cheeks flush, but you refused to back down. “rice is the foundation of life! and sushi is an art form — i can’t believe you’re comparing it to some pasta dish,” he shot back, his eyes gleaming with challenge. “you’re just being stubborn because you can’t appreciate the finer things.”

“finer things? like overpriced fish that’s raw? you’re just being defensive because you’re japanese!” you exclaimed, exasperated. “admit it, you’re biased!”

“bias? me? i just have better taste!” he retorted, a smirk plastered on his face. “you’ll come around one day; i’ll make sure of it.”

“yeah, right! you’re impossible!” you rolled your eyes, trying to suppress a laugh. “you’re like a child throwing a tantrum over his favorite toy.”

“child? at least i know what i want, unlike you, who can’t make up her mind!” he shot back, leaning closer, his arrogance palpable.“make up my mind? this is about you being stubborn! you’ll never admit when you’re wrong!” you felt your heart race, both from the argument and the undeniable chemistry between you. he leaned back, arms crossed, a smug look on his face. “and you’ll be the one begging for sushi sooner or later. just wait.”

“okay, how about a compromise?” you proposed, trying to mediate the escalating tension. “let’s do Italian tonight, and sushi tomorrow. you’ll still get your fix!”

for a moment Gun pretended to ponder. “hmm, let me think… nope! i’m not settling for anything less than sushi tonight.” you sighed dramatically, an amused smile creeping onto your lips. “you’re the absolute worst, you know that?”

“stubborn? no, i’m just determined,” Gun replied, his arrogance unwavering. after a few more rounds of playful banter, you finally relented, knowing how stubborn he could be. “fine! we’ll have sushi tonight, but only because i can’t deal with your arrogance any longer.”

“yeah, that’s right” he exclaimed triumphantly, pulling out his phone to place the order.

as the two of you settled back on the couch, the tension dissolved, and a comfortable silence fell between you, you found yourself leaning against him, his warmth comforting. you felt a rush of affection and couldn’t help but murmur into his shoulder, “ya5rab baito sho habito” Jungun pulled back slightly, a confused look on his face. “bitch, tf you just said?”

with a calm smile, you leaned your head against his shoulder and whispered, “literal translation: may your house get ruined i love you.”

he chuckled, shaking his head in disbelief. “you’re impossible!” but he tightened his embrace around you, pulling you closer.

“sometimes, you can be so stubborn,” you teased, looking up at him with a playful glint in your eye.

“and yet, you love me for it,” he replied, a smirk playing on his lips. “of course i do,” you shot back, your heart full as you nestled deeper into his warmth.

JIN HOBIN — GERMAN

it was just another chaotic day at school, the halls buzzing with the usual chatter of students. Hobin strode through the corridors, his presence commanding attention. he was used to the whispers and glances, but today, something else caught his eye.

in a quiet corner, you sat on a bench, phone pressed to your ear, animatedly talking to a friend. as you hung up, Hobin approached, curiosity piqued. “hey, what were you talking about?”

you looked up, slightly flustered. “just my friend. nothing important.” he smirked, leaning against the wall. “you speak german, huh?”

“yeah,” you replied, trying to downplay it.

“cool. can you teach me some swear words?” he asked, his tone teasing. you shrugged, playing along. “sure. like ‘Verdammtes Miststück.’” [fair-DAM-tes MIST-shtook]

Hobin raised an eyebrow. “what does that mean?”

“it means ‘damn jerk,’” you explained, a small smile creeping onto your face. “damn, that’s spicy,” he laughed. “i might have to start using that.”

just then, the bell rang, signaling the end of lunch. you stood up, ready to head to class. but as you walked away, something clicked in Hobin’s mind. he suddenly remembered that phrase — that phrase. the memories flooded back, taking him by surprise.

“wait!” he yelled, sprinting after you. “bitch, you called ME that name??” you turned around, feigning innocence. “what? i have no idea what you’re talking about.”

“don’t play dumb! you always called me that when we were enemies!” his voice was a mix of disbelief and playful frustration. “you used it all the time!”

you shrugged, trying to suppress a grin. “i really don’t remember.”

“seriously?” he exclaimed, a smirk forming on his lips. “you were always throwing that word around at me! you can’t just forget that!”

“maybe i just didn’t like you,” you shot back, trying to keep a straight face.

“come on! admit it!” Hobin insisted, laughter bubbling up despite himself. “admit what?” you teased, enjoying the banter. “that i cursed at my rival? sounds a bit dramatic.”

“dramatic? you were practically a german swearing machine!” he laughed, shaking his head. “i can’t believe i’m just now connecting the dots.”

you couldn’t help but smile at his animated reaction, feeling a thrill at the memories of your rivalry. “well, maybe i did. but you know what? it’s not like I’m going to do it again.”

Hobin stepped closer, his expression playful yet intense. “oh, I’m counting on it. you’re just too fun to mess with.”

with that, he gave you a wink and turned to leave, a confident swagger in his step. you watched him go, heart racing. it was strange how easily the tension from those rivalry days transformed into something more intriguing, something that hinted at new beginnings. as you walked to class, you couldn’t shake the feeling that this playful back-and-forth was just the start of something.

RYOHEI KURODA — ENGLISH

you were curled up on the couch, engrossed in your book, when your adorably clueless boyfriend, flopped down beside you with a dramatic sigh.

“y/n! teach me english!” he whined, resting his head on your shoulder. you sighed, trying to focus on your reading. “Ryohei, we’ve been at this for hours. you need to practice more!”

“but i want to learn from you! you’re the best teacher!” he clung to your arm, his eyes wide and pleading.

after 5 minutes of him being annoying you finally, you gave in, exasperated but amused. “alright, fine! but i’m teaching you something cool.” you leaned closer, lowering your voice conspiratorially. “say ‘bastard.’ it’s a fun word!”

“bas-tard,” he repeated like a child who just reached to something that was once forbidden, a mischievous grin spreading across his face.

“good! just don’t overdo it, okay?” you warned, chuckling.

later that day, Ryohei strolled into work, his confidence soaring. he spotted Eugene, who was busy with paperwork. with playful boldness, Ryohei called out, “hey, you bastard!”

Eugene blinked, stunned, while Ryohei burst into laughter, clearly unfazed by the shocked expression on his boss's face.

you could only imagine the chaos that would ensue. mortified yet secretly amused, you buried your face in your hands. Ryohei might be a handful, but he sure knew how to make life interesting — and you loved him for it.

bonus ; later that day Ryohei was feeling bold again. he spotted Kenta and, with a playful grin, shouted, “bastard!”

Kenta’s expression dropped, and he looked genuinely upset. “Ryohei, that’s not cool,” he said quietly. Ryohei’s smile faded as he felt a pang of guilt, especially since Kenta was usually so quiet. Ryohei took a deep breath and approached him.

“Magami, what’s wrong?” he asked, his tone sincere.

Kenta shrugged, his voice barely above a whisper. “it’s just... i know english better than you, and it was disrespectful.”

Ryohei’s heart sank at his words. “brooo wdym im really sorry. i didn’t mean to upset you,” he whined, shaking Kenta’s shoulder.you stepped in, sensing the tension. “how about we all go get milkshakes? it’ll be on me..”

SEO SEONGEUN — POLISH

smooth purr of Seongeun’s Rolls-Royce filled the quiet atmosphere as he drove through the city, one hand casually resting on the steering wheel while the other hung over the gear shift. you sat beside him, gazing out the window, trying to keep yourself occupied while Seongeun focused on the road. you had been living in Korea for a while now, and while your korean was pretty good, there were still moments where your native polish slipped out, especially when you were irritated or frustrated.

however, it had been one of those days, and your mood was already on edge. the final straw was when your phone buzzed with an annoying notification about the broken coffee machine back at home. you groaned, rubbing your temples in frustration as the stream of oolish curses tumbled from your lips.

“ja pierdolę...” you muttered, trying not to dwell on your frustration.

without taking his eyes off the road, Seongeun raised an eyebrow, his tone casual but curious. “what do you mean babe?”

you blinked, glancing over at him. “what?”

he briefly glanced at you with a smirk before focusing back on the road. “the stuff you always mumble when you're annoyed. you’ve been doing it for weeks, and I don’t get it.”

you flushed a little, realizing he’d been picking up on your muttered polish rants this whole time. “oh! that... yeah, i tend to mutter in polish when i’m emotional. it’s like a habit.”

Seongeun’s grip tightened on the steering wheel, but there was an amused glint in his eye. “and what exactly are you saying?” a small smile tugged at your lips. “you wanna learn some polish, babe?” you teased, poking his arm. he scoffed lightly but couldn’t hide his smirk. “i’m just curious. what do you say when you’re pissed?”

you hesitated, suddenly feeling shy about explaining. “well... i usually say ‘ja pierdolę’ or ‘kurwa mać.’” your cheeks flushed deeper as you tried to explain. “the first one means ‘fuck it,’ like when something goes wrong. and the second one… um... direct translation means... uh... ‘fuck your mother.’” you winced slightly, knowing how it sounded out of context.

Seongeun let out a low laugh, shaking his head “yeah, fuck that bitch. so what about the translation?”

you chuckled softly, your hand covering your mouth as you tried to find the words. “baby, i just told you! it doesn’t mean that literally. it’s more like saying ‘FUCK IT!!’ but with extra aggression.”

Seongeun laughed again, his deep voice rumbling through the car as he reached over to squeeze your knee affectionately. “gotcha, babe. polish frustrations... i get it.”

just as you relaxed, a mischievous glint appeared in Seongeun’s eyes. “so, what’s the deal with that beaver stuff? do you guys have beef with beavers or something? how do you say it? bo-bober? bober kurva?”

you stared at him for a moment, utterly blindsided by his sudden question. then, it hit you, and you couldn’t help but let out a snicker. your heart swelled with pride at his attempt.

“babe...” You blinked dramatically, pretending to wipe away proud slavic tear. “you’re trying to get it right. i’m so proud of you!”

he smirked, his gaze still fixed on the road, though you could see the amusement dancing in his eyes. “whatever makes you happy, baby. but seriously, tell me more about this beaver meme.”

[matchalovertrait]

"Count your days," is what Dulce is thinking. She WANTS to kill him, but she still feels a little bad for breaking his heart... and she's trying to be in her character development arc! Also, she kind of got herself into this mess.. What's a girl to do in this situation???? Okay, okay. Y'know what? We're overcomplicating things. In response, we have to be well-mannered and considerate. There is a certain image we have to maintain. Dulce will make a video calmly explaining the truth and bring out the receipts. After all, her cookbook wasn't made overnight. There are drafts of her ideas everywhere on her computer and she backed everything up in other places. This'll be easy to handle! Piece of cake.

Note: I'm kind of exploring different genres with each generation, at least the first three. Generation 1 was more slice-of-life (besides the social commentary on money, power, etc.). Generation 2 is going to be much more telenovela-esque 😅 So if things get a little outlandish, it's supposed to be like that.

I also researched a lot for certain things that are coming up, but I'm just one person so maybe it's not 100% perfect 😭 I don't have an editing team and I'm a very inexperienced writer. Sooooo yeahhh, let's get this next part started!

Transcript:

Dulce: Oh, a text from Rubiya! Did she send me another cat video?

Dulce: Never mind, she didn’t. Why does she want me to see Caruso’s video? Did he become an executive chef? Good for him.

[Thumbnail of Caruso's video titled, "storytime: MY IDEAS WERE STOLEN!!]

Dulce: This better be a clickbait title and this better not be about me.

20 mins into the video...

Caruso's "video" subtitles: Sorry for how long this video ended up being, but yes. In short, Dulce Alegria and I broke up because she was toxic. She treated me unfairly and took my recipes without asking! I was too afraid to speak out.

Caruso's "video" subtitles: However, I now recognize my self-worth will no longer be silenced! It’s time for me to take the credit for my stolen work. Bravo for me.

Caruso's "video" subtitles: I’m proud of myself for finally stepping forward. I was being manipulated and taken advantage of for too long. Thank you for watching.

Dulce: Son of a bitch.

Dulce: Okay, but there is no way people actually believe this. My cookbook is clearly personal to ME. [Scrolls down to read the comments.]

Dulce: I’m going to kill him.

[steddieas-shegoes]

love confessions in line

Another stupid little thing because I’m in the car and bored. It’s not edited or really anything much beyond just putting these boys in love in situations.

Rated t | tags: love confessions, established relationship, robin being so fed up with them

————————

“Why do we have to be here so early? My dinner hasn’t even digested properly yet,” Robin complained.

And, okay. It was cold and there were a lot of people standing in line outside of the only Walmart carrying the very specific guitar amp Eddie wanted. He’d called every Walmart in Indiana. Multiple times.

But he had to go all out for Christmas this year. Eddie had already said he’d gotten Steve something he’ll never outdo, never even believe. Obviously, that meant Steve had to do better than the Metallica hoodie that was stashed in his closet for the last four months.

“It’ll be worth it. There’s hardly anyone in line ahead of us and if we go straight to the electronics in the back—“

“You mean where everyone is going?” Robin interrupted, folding her arms across her chest.

Steve sighed.

“Yeah, well. I’ll run. It’ll be fine. I doubt anyone else here is interested in a guitar amp.”

As if the words ‘guitar amp’ were magic, someone who looked a lot like Eddie walked up to one of the security officers standing by the front doors.

Robin noticed at the same time as him.

“Is that…?”

“It can’t be. He said he was going fishing with Wayne in the morning and didn’t wanna end up stuck in crowds shopping,” Steve said.

But then the man turned back to the line.

“Steve?” Eddie yelled, eyes going wide when he realized Steve and Robin were there.

“Uh.”

“Um.”

“I thought you guys were going to Indy for this!” Eddie smiled as he walked up to them. “I don’t think this store will have what you’re lookin’ for.”

Steve panicked. There’s only one thing Eddie could be here for. He could go anywhere else. He could have stayed in Hawkins for that matter.

“Uh. Just wanted a change of scenery.”

Eddie’s brows furrowed as his smile fell slightly.

“O…kay. Well, I’ve got an amp to buy so I guess we’re all in this together now.”

Steve ignored Robin’s snort and mumbling.

Eddie glanced over at her with a questioning face.

“You two are unbelievable. Truly.”

“What? Why?” Eddie asked, genuinely curious.

His finger traced along the back of Steve’s hand subtly, out of sight of the people behind them in line.

“I.” Steve sighed.

Oh well. Maybe he could just try to get concert tickets the next time Ozzy came to Chicago.

“I was gonna get the amp for you for Christmas. I’ve been planning it for weeks,” Steve said, looking down at the ground.

Eddie was surprisingly quiet.

Absolutely no response.

After a full minute, Steve made eye contact with him.

He had tears building in his eyes and Steve felt himself start to tear up, too.

“You were?” Eddie choked out. “But this is-“

“The only place selling it on sale in the state, yeah.”

Robin was grumbling to herself again, but neither of them were paying attention anymore.

“How did you even know?” Eddie asked after a deep, calming breath.

“You mentioned it last month after a gig. Said you needed a new one anyways and this was top of the line or something. That a lot of the bands you like were switching to this kind for studio recording or whatever because of the…crisp? Sound? And then when no one else was selling it at all, I had to call around the Walmarts to see who had it on sale because $300 is a lot of money, Eds, and I wish I could afford that, but I don’t really have that lying around after paying for school and rent so when this place finally said they’d have it for $100, I made Robin promise to come with me since you’d be busy. And I guess you’re not that busy, but. I needed to do my best to get it.”

Eddie’s smile grew the longer Steve rambled. Robin was already walking away, probably back to Steve’s car, halfway through his speech.

“I love you.”

Steve’s jaw dropped in shock.

They’d been saying it in every way except this way for months, nearly a year, really.

It started as Steve taking care of Eddie when everyone else was busy taking care of the Upside Down.

It kept going as Steve was the one listening to Eddie slowly pick the guitar back up, working through the crying about his fingers not working right or his arm getting tired too quickly.

And then five months ago, Steve kissed him.

Took the plunge and kissed him.

They’d done everything together since. They’d become boyfriends. They came out to their group, together, always together.

And now, in a Walmart parking lot during the busiest shopping day of the year, Eddie was telling Steve he loved him.

“Because of the amp?” Steve asked, hesitant.

Eddie knew what he was really asking.

Because I’m buying you something nice?

“No, sweetheart. Because you listen to me. You know what makes me happy. You’re doing something for me that no one else would have even bothered to try to do.” Eddie laughed. “I have never wanted to kiss you as much as I want to right now.”

“Not even that time I wore a crop top and your boxers?”

Eddie groaned. “That was an outlier. You know how that affected me.”

“Oh, I sure do,” Steve smirked. “Too bad we’re in public.”

“The doors open in an hour right?” Eddie asked, checking his watch.

“Yep.”

“And then you have to take Robin to her parent’s house?”

“Probably should.”

“And then what?” Eddie asked, already knowing exactly what.

“And then I’ll come to the trailer and I’ll walk right to your room and hopefully-“ Steve cut himself off to whisper the next part. “You’ll be naked.”

Eddie’s brows raised. “You want me naked? What about Wayne being home?”

“Wayne’s been sleeping with ear plugs for months now. Can’t hear a thing,” Steve pats Eddie’s blushing cheek. “Said he didn’t need to hear what his nephew got up to.”

“We really should just move my stuff into your new place,” Eddie suggested for the fifth time in as many days.

Steve wasn’t opposed at all.

In fact, he’d planned on asking him to move in once he got more settled.

But.

“Wayne wanted another Christmas with you at home, baby. He won’t say it, but when I brought up you moving in with me, I thought he was actually gonna cry.”

“Yeah, yeah. With this new amp, he’ll change his mind.”

“What makes you think you get this amp before Christmas?” Steve put his hands on his hips.

“Because now I know you’re getting it!”

“Uh-huh. And it’s getting wrapped with your other gift to be opened on Christmas morning. No early gifts on my watch.”

“Steeeeeeve. Please! I could use it at our show next week!”

Steve shook his head. “Your amp works fine. Christmas is only a month from now.”

“You’re getting revenge on me,” Eddie pouted.

“Revenge for what?” Steve snorted.

“You know what.”

Steve did. He felt his cheeks and neck heat up with a blush.

“Fine. Yes. Maybe it’s a little bit revenge.”

Eddie huffed, but didn’t argue further.

“You know I love you, too, right?” Steve whispered.

And Eddie forgot about everything else except the way Steve was looking at him, like he needed Eddie to understand how much he loved him.

“Yeah, sweetheart. I do.”

———————

Three days later, Steve set the amp up in the second bedroom of his rented house.

When Eddie came over, he pushed him into the room and wrapped his arms around his waist.

“You can play it here, but I’m still wrapping it up for Christmas and you aren’t allowed to bring it to shows until after. Okay?”

Eddie was bouncing on his toes and squeezing Steve’s hands so hard he was losing feeling.

“Okay! Thank you, thank you! I love you! Thank you!”

Eddie smacked a kiss on Steve’s cheek before pulling away and running to the amp.

“You need your guitar, honey,” Steve laughed.

“Right!” Eddie ran from the room to grab his guitar from his van.

Steve shook his head, but couldn’t help his fond smile as the front door banged open.

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

Price to Pay

Warnings: this fic will include dark content such as noncon/dubcon, power dynamics, violence, blood, death, grief and trauma, and possible untagged elements. My warnings are not exhaustive, enter at your own risk.

This is a dark!fic and explicit. 18+ only. Your media consumption is your own responsibility. Warnings have been given. DO NOT PROCEED if these matters upset you.

Summary: a robbery changes your entire life.

Characters: Andy Barber

Note: This is for @stargazingfangirl18 Siri's Birthday Bone-nanza! Happy Birthday. Enjoy. I've cooked you up some Mob AU+Andy Barber.

As per usual, I humbly request your thoughts! Reblogs are always appreciated and welcomed, not only do I see them easier but it lets other people see my work. I will do my best to answer all I can. I’m trying to get better at keeping up so thanks everyone for staying with me.

Your feedback will help in this and future works (and WiPs, I haven’t forgotten those!) Please do not just put ‘more’. I will block you.

I love you all immensely. Take care. 💖

The flashing lights fade away with the squall of the siren. The smell of iron tinges the air and stains your every breath. You shudder as you stare through the tight squares between the bars across the windows.

That grating did little to deter the robber. No, he made you do it. You had no choice. 

You look down at your hands. Will the shaking ever stop? There’s blood crusted around your nails despite the frantic scrubbing in the bathroom. Once the officers took their evidence, you couldn’t stop trying to wash away the taint. 

The floor shows the crimson imprint of where the men fell. Where you went to hold him in the throes of death. The fate you fired into his chest. It was you or him. That’s what you told yourself. It’s what the police said too as they wrote out the report. Come down tomorrow and sign your statement, ma’am. 

Stan couldn’t be bothered to come down to the corner shop. He owns the place but is doesn’t mean he gives a shit. The officers waited for him to show but resigned themselves to following up later. 

He had a gun. You couldn’t do anything else but open the drawer and scoop out the bills. You weren’t going to do anything but hand over the money but then he fumbled and you did too. The scramble for the pistol under the counter slowed time. The pull of the trigger put it into overdrive. 

You can feel the recoil in your forearm. The rest of you is just as stiff. You can’t untie the tension left by the night’s deadly end. You killed that man. He's rolled him out under a sheet.

He bled out in your arms, even as you desperately tried to stem the flow with the dirty rag. Why did you shoot him? Over fifty bucks worth of change? 

Adrenaline. That’s what the cops told you. Stupidity is what you believe. This job isn’t worth all that. 

And you still have to finish your shift. You look away from the faded stain on the floor. He was so young. He just made a stupid decision and you took everything from him. He’s dead. You killed him. 

🚨

You stand outside the convenience store. Strange how it seems just the same as it was. The dingy moniker flaps at one corner as a tear rents the fabric.

Customers come and go as you stand on the curb. You’ve been standing there for an hour now, trying to make yourself go inside. You have to work. If you want to stay in the hell-hole you call a home, you need the stingy paycheck. 

You check the time. You’re not late yet. You only came early because you couldn’t stand to be alone in your apartment. Now that you’re here, you just want to go back. 

A bang jars you and you cry out, spinning to search for the source. A rusty old Chrysler chuffs out black smoke and rumbles loudly. Just a backfire. You knot your shaking hands together and search the block. 

“Heard something about a robbery,” a voice draws your attention towards another car. The model is too nice for a neighbourhood like this. A man leans against it, his hands in his pockets. “Young kid. They took him down to the morgue.” 

You squint at the man in confusion. His suit is finely tailored and his beard trimmed to a tee. He stands out among the sagging jeans and worn leather. You shake your head. 

“I heard...” you croak.  

“Sad. Stupid kid, huh? Stupid decision. All for a couple bucks.” He tuts and shakes his head. 

“Yeah, um, tragic. I...” you look over your shoulder. “I gotta work.” 

You turn away and march across the pavement. Something about the man’s cool demeanour sets you on edge. Or maybe it’s the reminder of the night before. Not that you could forget. 

You enter with the chirp of the bell and greet Mauricio as he plays solitaire on the counter top. Your sneakers squeak to a halt before you can step on the cracked tile with the red splotches. You stare down at the festering memory. 

“Tough night,” Mauricio says. “I never shot one, ya know? Always shoot past ‘em. Give ‘em a scare.” 

You tuck your chin down and step over the tile. Mauricio lets you in through the door and you sidle behind the counter. You put your purse in the cupboard by the cigarettes and sniff. You wring your hands and lean on the shelf as you wait for your shift to start. 

Mauricio shuffles the cards and packs them away. 

“You okay? Police were here earlier.” 

“They were?” You gulp. 

“Might be back. Think they just wanted some Coke,” he snickers and tosses the cards under the till. The gun is still gone, probably down in some evidence locker. “Stan is pissed about the pistol, ya know?” 

“Mm, I didn’t... didn’t mean to.” 

He sniffs as he pats his back pocket, making sure he has his wallet. “Sorry, senorita. It can’t be easy, wish I had some way to help but Stan isn’t gonna pay me nothin’ to stay and I got that gig down at Jethro’s.” 

“I’m fine.” The lie is less than convincing. 

“Told him, shouldn’t have you on nights.” He shakes his head as you move to let him past. 

“It’s work.” 

“Eh, it’s somethin’,” he scoffs and hands over the keys. “Whole thing was plastered in the paper and all over the internet. Should keep the bad ones away for a while. Place is hot now. No one wants to get their ass blown off over pocket change.” 

“Sure.” 

You clip the keys on your belt. You back up and cross our arms. You lean again as you wait for him to go. You can’t say what’s worse, being alone or talking about it. 

As Mauricio goes, a customer enters. She wants a pack of menthol and some scratchers. You ring her through as she snaps her gum between her teeth. The bell chimes with her exit and stutters as another enters. 

It’s the man in the nice suit. He stops at the newspaper rack and grabs an issue. He struts up to the counter and throws it down.  

“Just the paper?” You ask. 

He steps closer and opens the newsprint. The crinkle is deafening in the drone of the local radio station buzzing from the speaker above you. He taps the page. 

“Kid was eighteen.” 

You bite down and stare back at him. You don’t know what to say or do. Is he some sort of detective? His suit might suggest as much but he hasn’t flashed a badge. 

“It was a BB gun. Looked pretty real, didn’t it?” He spits. 

You wince and shrug. You trace your knuckles nervous as you look down at the paper. Your nose tingles, your eyes too. 

He backs up and heaves out a sigh. He glances around and strides up to the stained tile. He looks down at it emphatically. 

“Blood don’t come out easy. No matter how much you scrub or bleach. It’s like that Edgar Allan Poe story...” he raises his chin and closes his eyes, taking another deep. “Do you hear it? His heartbeat? Racing as the life drains out of him?” 

Your lip quivers and you shake your head. You flick away tears before they can fall, “I didn’t mean to.” 

His cheek twitches and he snorts. He turns to your stiffly. He comes back to the counter and you tense as he reaches under his jacket. You shudder and peek at the empty shelf beneath the till where the pistol should be. He slips out a photo and lays it down, his thumb lingering on the frame.  

You gasp. It’s that boy. He’s young and smiling. He doesn’t look scary like the night before. 

“You didn’t mean to kill my son? Over a bunch of piss-stained bills? You couldn’t tell the gun was a fucking toy?!” 

You cower and your eyes well. You rub them with your sleeves. 

“I’m sorry.” 

“You fucking will be, sweetheart. Do you know who I am?” 

You stare and your mouth falls open. 

“His name was Jacob. Jacob Barber.” He swipes up the photo and snarls. “Any bells ringing?” 

You gape at him in horror. Barber. Yes, you’ve heard of him. He’s no detective. That suit is just a disguise. His business is deadly. His business is his ego. The personal is professional and you just stepped over the line. 

You brace yourself and drop your arms straight. You watch him, waiting. He looks back at you, agitation rippling above his brow. 

“Nothing else to say?” He sneers. 

“I deserve it.” 

He arches a brow, “deserve what?” 

“To die. So do it, please.” 

He laughs sardonically. “Oh, sweetheart, that’s cute.” He puts his hands on the counter and leans in. “I’m not going to kill you. I’m gonna do a lot fucking worse.” His eyes flick up and down and he pushes off. “You owe me and I always get what’s mine.” 

He twists on his heel and marches out. You gulp, frozen in fear, and watch after him. You don’t move until the next customer enters. Even then, you can hardly make your body listen to your fractured mind. 

🚨

There is no coming back. Thing’s don’t get better. You don’t calm down. You don’t sleep. You barely eat.  

All you can think about is the blood gushing from that boy’s chest. When you manage to close your eyes, you feel the hot stream flowing through your fingers. You smell it in the air. Beneath it all, you hear his father’s threat. 

‘You owe me...’ 

How can you repay that sort of debt? You killed his child. You didn’t have to. You could have handed over the money and told Stan the kid had a gun pointed right at you. Why did you do it? That question is as torturous as the memory. 

A week goes by. Ragged nights followed by desolate days. You stand behind that counter and stand at the reddened tile, or sit at home and rot. You wait for him to come back. Maybe then he’ll just end it. 

Another week of purgatory and your dissociation gives way to paranoia. Every time the shop door opens, you expect to see him. Barber and his tailored-jacket, a gun in his hand, ready to claim what’s owed. Every stranger on the street is just him in disguise, every shadow in your apartment is him haunting you. 

When he does appear, a month to the day, you’re almost relieved. There he is at your apartment door, stood as he was the first time you saw him. Arms crossed, leaning, looming. You stop and stare at him.  

He looks you in the eye and nods at the door. You unlock it and let him in. He isn’t in a suit this time. He’s dressed down, a hoodie and jeans. He doesn’t seem the type for denim. He struts inside and you close the door behind him. 

The air is static as he examines the bachelor suite. Your whole life in a single room. He is unimpressed as he stops by the table. Stan lets you take the old papers. You’ve brought home every single issue with a mention of the boy; Jacob. You don’t know why. 

His blue eyes are darkened in the gloom of your apartment. His beard is thick across his cheeks and defines his square jaw. His features are stony in determination. 

He pushes them to the floor and huffs. He stalks around the space as you stand by the door. You imagine him spinning to you, pulling a gun from under his sweater and firing. You could smile at the thought of it ending. 

He stops at the foot of your bed. The lumpy mattress sits on a metal frame. Beige sheets are pulled to the corners, a plaid comforter strewn carelessly below a single pillow. A used double you got from the thrift shop with your first pay. It smells like cigarettes. 

You stare at his broad shoulders as he runs his hand up his front. His zipper slices through the silence as he pulls it down. He shrugs off the hoodie and spins on his heel. He slings it over the only chair, right beside the table. He looks up at you, eyes blazing. 

“Strip.” 

His demand shakes you. It’s the first you’ve felt anything but horrible grief and self-pity. You’re afraid. You weren’t before. Just anxious. 

“Don’t say a fucking word,” he snarls as he tugs at his long-sleeved tee. 

You untie your sneakers and leave them by the door. You cross the room, staying far from him as you take in every inch. The apartment feels even smaller now.  

You unzip your jacket and fold it over the side of the plastic hamper in the corner. You pull of your socks and drop them into the depth of unwashed clothes. You undo your fly, your hands clumsy and shaking. The rustle behind you adds to the speckle of ember under your skin. 

You push your jeans down and step out of them. You throw them into the basket and peek over your shoulder. He stands at the foot of the bed once more. His hands are on his hips as he glares at the mattress. He wears only a pair of dark briefs. 

His intent isn’t hard to fathom. It’s not about the act itself, it’s the power, the humiliation. You ruined his life; he’ll do the same. 

“Hurry the fuck up,” he barks. 

You pull your shirt off and fumble with the back of your bra. You can barely get a grip as you quake. You push down your underwear and hang your head. You turn and march forward. He shoves down the elastic of his briefs at your approach. 

He’s a big man. Tall, muscular, stronger than you, without a doubt. Even if he wasn’t, he has all the power to keep you in line. 

“I don’t want to see your fucking face. Get on your stomach.” He commands as he peels off his last layer. 

You put your hands on the mattress and crawl over it. You cry out as he strikes you across your ass and sends you flat. You brace yourself on your elbows and whimper. He grabs your ankles and drags you down the bed.  

He hauls your legs over the edge so your feet are on the floor. He growls and scratches up the back of your thigh. You whine and he swats the back of your head. 

“Quiet,” he warns. 

He leans over you and plants his hands on either side of you. You stare up at the pillow, focusing on it as you desperately search for the numbness of those last weeks. It’s all gone now. You feel everything. The sting of flesh, the futility, the horror. 

He lifts a hand, the bed shifting with him, and traces along your spine. He dips along your ass and kicks your legs wider. He feels between your thighs and jams his fingers against your folds. He’s impatient and cruel. He rams two fingers into you and you squeak, spine arching as you grasp the linen comforter. 

He hushes you as he pushes deep. His knuckles press against you and he draws back. He jerks his hand gruffly, fucking your dry cunt raw. You hold your breath as he plumes out around you. Each intrusion is dull and achy. 

He tears free of your cunt and angles over you. He guides his tip along the swell of your ass and presses to your entrance. There is no time to be ready for him. 

You cry out and throw your head up. It’s like a red-hot iron inside of you, burning from inside out. He snarls and hooks his arm around you, smothering your mouth in his hand. You smell yourself on his fingers as the press against your nose. 

He snaps his hips and buries himself in you. You kick the floor and slap the mattress. Your muscles tighten and your bones thrum. He pushes his nose into your hair and ruts again. You squeal into his palm as your eyes bead with tears. 

He’s methodical. He pumps into you. Long, slow strokes so you feel every inch. He’s taunting you. He’s punishing you. His hot breath wraps around your scalp as he puffs. 

He bends his other arm, elbow digging into the limp mattress, and stretches his fingers around your throat.  He collapses onto you, crushing you beneath him as he squeezes your neck and jaw. He has you trapped in his grip. 

His pace quickens with his breath. He grunts and growls against your temple as the bed frame whines with his rhythm. His flesh slaps between the squeaky tempo and your pathetic mewling stays cupped behind his rough hand. 

He pounds you into the mattress, each dip of his hips heavier than the last. Every ounce of emotion; anger, grief, resent, hatred, is hammered into your helpless body. 

He puts his teeth around the brim of your ear and pinches. He growls and you feel the rumble roll through him. His thrusts turn snappy, punctuated by the bite of your flesh. Harder, harder, harder. He spasms but doesn’t let up. 

He untangles his arms from under you and pins your shoulders. He fucks his cum into you as he lifts himself up. His weight threatens to pop your bones out of joint. He pushes his thighs against yours, splaying you as far as he can. 

His furious onslaught doesn’t let up until your thighs and cunt are painted in him. Until your breathless and babbling, head lolling, defeated as he leaves you smeared across the blankets. He burrows in as deep as he can before he pulls out. 

He pushes off the bed, jarring the world around you, and his shadow hangs over you. He inhales and lets it out slowly. 

“My son. My only child,” he grits out. He bends and feels along your cunt, spreading the slimy mess leaking from your cunt. “You owe me and I will get exactly what you took from me.” 

[maybefae]

November 2024

Pile 1 - Pile 2 - Pile 3

Remember, this is a general reading and it may not resonate for everyone or completely. Tarot is a tool to help guide but you are responsible for your actions and life, you choose your path.

Tips!

Pile 1

Tarot: The Lovers (King of Swords), King of Cups (Seven of Pentacles and Death), Eight of Cups (Queen of Swords), Judgement (Two of Pentacles and Three of Wands), Five of Pentacles and Two of Wands (bottom of  the deck), The Tower

Oracle: The Fate, The Hound, The Tailor, The Enchanter, The Puppeteer, The Merchant, The Weaver (bottom of the deck)

I wanna preface by saying that I don’t really like covering readings that entail relationships to the general. However, while I was shuffling the cards and getting them ready, I saw The Lovers twice and then it fell on the table. And the messages I’m getting are specific but you can apply these messages outside of romance.

I believe that this month for you will focus heavy on your relationship with someone. And I keep having the word “gaslight” repeated and the oracle cards to denote manipulation being at hand. Deception and Trickery. And my anxiety is high. I keep second guessing myself and how I wanna write these messages which does confirm what I’ve been feeling. If you are in a dangerous situation, please reach out to someone that could help you (and I know that it’s hard and could pose more of a danger in some situations). 

I believe that most of the people here probably keep going back into this relationship because this person probably promises loyalty and that they will be different but it’s a trap. They’re manipulating you and trying to keep you chained up and still wrapped in a red string. They keep offering explanations, apologies… This could be a third party situation. I really don’t like this energy, by the way. This is very hard to channel. 

But I think this is the month where you finally have enough (thank god). I believe you will probably speak your mind and cut it off. But I think you will probably be scared to. I think you’re scared of the unknown, most likely because you’re so used to this cycle. Even if it was a very difficult relationship, you had grown used to the routine of it. You’ll be scared as much as you are curious and hopeful.

Some of you will probably have to pull more weight to get your life back on track, most likely responsibility and money wise, but I believe you will embrace this new solitude. Rediscovering yourself in this transition will be hard but you will look back on it and be grateful that it happened because you will be in a better place. You will get your self-worth back.

I do want to warn that I do feel like you will have to turn this person down a few more times. If you are into witchcraft, I would do some form of cord cutting spell, a protection spell, and/or banishing spell. 

Pile 2

Tarot: The Unknown (Nine of Pentacles, Five of Wands, Ace of Swords), Death (Eight of Wands, Eight of Pentacles), Six of Wands (Page of Wands), Three of Wands (The Vessel, The Cosmic Tree), Five of Wands (bottom of the deck)

I believe that most of the people that have picked this group are probably rebuilding from a recent chaos (it could be all the chaos that had happened to a lot of people this October). But you guys are rebuilding, dusting your pants off, and looking forward to your goals. At the same time, the chaos has left you in a state that you aren’t taking bullshit. You’re cutting it off as soon as someone wants to create more chaos. 

I was also getting distracted a lot when doing this reading. I was pulled into conversation with my sister and I was just veering off and practically distracting myself. I think this month will also have to do with reigning yourself and having to force yourself to do things. I believe it’s most likely out of exhaustion from having to deal with all the chaos and things still wanting to distract you. 

This month will probably have to do with focusing on your own life, resting, and trying to lead yourself in the direction you want/need to go in. It will take more effort than usual. If you have seasonal depression, I believe that definitely plays a part. But you’re embracing the unknown and letting yourself follow your intuition when it comes to directions. Also, I’m being told to tell you that it’s okay to stay in your comfort zone this month, especially if you need to rest. 

Inspiration could come back to you this month and out of the blue! Although this will be more of a slow month for you, you will be thinking of these ideas and planning to work on them. You may also have other people inviting you to work on a project with you or you will be planning on a goal/project with others (I feel it’s more towards the end of the month).

Pile 3

Tarot: The Chariot (King of Cups), Ace of Cups (Six of Wands), Five of Cups (Seven of Wands), The Tower (Knight of Cups), The Empress (bottom of the deck)

Oracle: Other’s Wishes, The Empress, Slept Through the Rumor, The Hierophant, Unseen Eye (bottom of the deck)

I think this pile will feel good about themselves this month and the things happening. This is a pile that is following their heart and doing what they love despite people telling them that they shouldn’t be going after their goals. And this could just be happening in the background without you knowing or you are simply ignoring the comments. It could also be because of the high you are experiencing with working towards your goals. You could be feeling really confident and sure of yourself just by the meer act of what you’re doing because you could be seeing progress in real time. It’s like you assured yourself that you’re goals are tangible by actually taking the steps (no matter how small). 

I believe you are encouraged to continue on this route. There could be a bigger breakthrough towards the end of the month and you could also find that someone else shares a similar goal/interest. This could be a potential project partner or simply a companion that shares a similar goal so you both encourage each other.

There will still be hard work being done but I don’t think it will feel like any work at all because you are enjoying the process. 

Decks Used: The Rider-Waite Tarot Deck, The Citadel: A Fantasy Oracle by Fez Inkwright, Ethereal Visions Illuminated Tarot Deck by Matt Hughes, Ophida Rosa Tarot by Leila and Olive, Maiden Oracle by Leila and Olive

Dividers: @inklore

[13atoms]

Airplane Mode (Spencer Reid x Reader)

A quick blurb about Spencer Reid and his SO finally getting a resort vacation! (Or holiday, because I’m a Brit and saying vacation feels weird). Insp by the slightly weird holiday I’m currently on lol | 1k fluff

Holidays were a bad omen for the BAU. Like complaining a night shift in a hospital is too quiet, or that it hasn’t rained in a while. Holidays meant something was bound to go wrong. So you’d waited until the very last minute to book the flights. Packed your suitcases two hours before leaving for the airport.

You hadn’t allowed yourself to be excited to go away, or even to tell many friends you’d be on holiday.

The louder you said it, the more likely it was that Spencer would be called into work, and the whole thing would fall to the wayside in a series of frantic phone calls. Ultimately, it would only mean Spencer felt awful, and guilty, and it would have been better if you’d never planned anything in the first place. It wasn’t his fault, you couldn’t resent him for it, people’s lives were at stake.

But you were so excited for a vacation.

Even in the airport, as Spencer passed through security with the lazy, efficient movements of a weary regular flier, you’d been waiting for his phone to ring. For it to all be over. You’d held his arm in the airport lounge, waiting for the gate announcement, not daring to speak a word in case the universe heard you and Spencer had to jump on a different plane before yours had even taken off. Then there would be the arguing with the airline. The money lost, the forms for it to be refunded by the FBI, your bags missing because they were already packed deep into the hold of the plane.

You had clutched your coffee cup, already feeling dread and exhaustion overtaking you.

Then the plane had taken off. You hadn’t quite believed it. Spencer put his phone on airplane mode, and showed it to you.

“We’ve made it,” he whispered, through a smile, “it would be in violation of the Federal Aviation Administration regulations to take a call from work now.”

You shoved your face into his neck, and let yourself begin to feel excited.

The resort was one recommended by a colleague of Spencer’s, boring and relaxing, adults’ only and pleasantly quiet. There was a time and a place for exploring and excitement, but truly the thought of Spencer spending a single week away from work felt like excitement enough.

In the taxi from the airport, when Spencer had turned his phone back on and not received summons from Gideon, you finally let yourself utter the words:

“I can’t believe we’re on holiday.”

“I know!”

Spencer was giddy, you could count on one hand the number of times you’d heard him giggle, and it was so wonderful you had to pull his hand into yours and squeeze it.

“I am so excited to do nothing,” he admitted, though you knew his e-reader contained a small library’s worth of books.

“I just want to eat good food, and spend time with you.”

“I think I’m going to turn my phone off,” he said abruptly, as though he’d only just had the thought he could.

“Yeah?”

“Yeah! Garcia knows where I am, if there’s a real emergency. That way I won’t feel like I have to check it all the time.”

“That sounds like a great idea.”

He smiled at you, and you watched as he shot off a quick text to Penelope, before completely turning his phone off. For a moment there was silence, and you both waited, listening to the sound of rubber on tarmac and feeling the heat of the sun outside. Nothing happened. Of course it didn’t. The realisation made you burst out laughing at the same time as Spencer, and you caught a flash of the driver’s backwards glance in the rear view mirror.

“You know what, mine too!”

You turned your phone off in solidarity, and stacked it beside his on the middle seat.

“Swap?” Spencer asked, offering you his phone, but you shook your head.

“Straight into the safe, when we get to the hotel. They can stay there.”

“That’s an even better idea.”

You knew, if it came down to it, if a life was at risk, he’d get the message from the hotel reception and go back to Quantico. That was okay. It was part of who he was, he needed the BAU, as much as they needed him.

There was a chain of people between that decision being made and Spencer finding out, including Gideon and Penelope, who would do everything in that power not to ask him. And that felt good.

For the first day, you let yourselves do only what you wanted to, to explore, to lie in bed, to read. Spencer needed the reminders not to watch every little thing that happened, not to examine poolsides and restaurants like they were crime scenes, but soon that went away and the frown in his brow was smoothed.

He wore swim trunks. He tried sips of your cocktail while floating in a pool. He laughed, and cried at one of the books he read, and ate properly, and let himself spend hours lying against your body in bed.

When you left the hotel, you both forgot your phones, and had to pay the taxi driver to turn around and get them.

“We should just leave them,” you’d joked breathlessly, as the receptionist concealed exasperation and politely led you to the room you’d just checked out of.

“That would be pointless, I’d just have to buy another one –” Spencer was distracted, following the receptionist, working out whether you’d miss the plane in the worst possible scenario.

You could see the stress in him, as the taxi driver waited outside with your bags, his meter running.

“Not if we stay here forever,” you teased, and finally saw the fall of his shoulders, the smile lines appearing on his face.

“You know, that’s not a bad idea.”

Spencer made it a whole 24 hours after landing without getting on another plane, and you considered it a small victory. When he called you on the jet you could almost see him, skin a little bit more tanned, his hair still a little curlier from the sun and the chlorine.

“You’d better bring a souvenir, jet setter,” you teased, and imagined Spencer wrinkling his nose before he replied.

“We’re going to Milwaukee.”

[f1byjessie]

A PICTURE IS WORTH A THOUSAND WORDS ━━ LN4.

sometimes the right words are hard to come across, and sometimes everything you need to say can be captured in an image.

( lando norris x photographer!reader )

━━ part six.

INSTAGRAM.

liked by garrettward, oscarpiastri, and 231,976 others

tagged: garrettward

yourusername manchester nights

comments have been disabled

INSTAGRAM.

liked by yourusername, user, and 524,087 others

tagged: yourusername

garrettward luxury.

view all 2,769 comments

user AIN’T NO WAY HE FINALLY POSTED HER

user girlies i hate to say it, but maybe this one’s actually serious… 🫢

↳ user i refuse to believe it…

↳ user he’s literally never posted another girl before tho??

user king of aesthetics

user i can’t believe he’s actually dating her

user what does he actually see in her?? like gen what is it cuz i cannot see it from here 😒😒😒

user she’s just using you for your clout garrett DON’T FALL FOR IT 😫 SHE’S NOT THE ONE THERE ARE BETTER FISH IN THE SEA

↳ user she’s fr just using him for the money and fame it’s so sad

↳ user right?? like he’s posting her which means he’s probably serious but i doubt she is and it’s just gonna hurt him in the end 😔

↳ user this is why i hate when celebs or athletes get with ppl who aren’t in the same sphere as them, cuz like if she were another celeb then we would know she has money or if she were actually a football fan then we would know she’s invested in helping him get better but she’s neither 🤷‍♀️

↳ user it hurts to see such an innocent man get used

user wait she’s actually kind of pretty tho 👀👀

↳ user she lowkey is

user can’t wait to see you back on the field soon garrett!!

user mad style bro

user came over from y/n’s account to say that you fans are exhibiting behaviour that is genuinely so immature and disrespectful. it’s sickening. you claim to support this athlete but you don’t support his decision to enter an exclusive relationship with someone? you say it’s bc she doesn’t know football or that she’s controlling or that she’ll ruin his career, but you know nothing about her and i’d bet you all would say the same thing about anyone. she could be a professional footballer herself and you would still say she isn’t fit to be with him. get over yourselves and bffr. none of you had a chance with him to begin with, and you hating on an innocent girl so much that she had to turn her comments off so she wouldn’t keep getting death threats is actually crazy. you all are delusional.

↳ user THIS. i’m so tired of the hatred

↳ user i’m honestly surprised garrett hasn’t said anything to his fans about them leaving her alone yet…

↳ user he probably thought GROWN ADULTS would know it’s inappropriate to act like BABIES but i digress 🙄

↳ user whether he thought they were mature enough or not, the fact that he probably knew it was happening (she’s his gf, there’s no way she didn’t tell him or he didn’t see the comments himself before she turned them off) and still hasn’t said anything is a major red flag imo. he’s posted her/acknowledged that she exists on his acc now, but he STILL hasn’t addressed the hatred his “fans” have been sending her and continue to direct towards her in the comments of his own post.

↳ user i think it’s a out of sight out of mind type situation tbh. if neither of them acknowledge them, then the haters aren’t given the attention they want. they might just be waiting for it to die down.

↳ user i don’t think that’s a good enough reason tho?? if i was a celeb and my significant other was being harassed by jealous and delusional fans, i would absolutely say smth and try to get them to stop, partly bc my s/o doesn’t deserve to be spoken about like that just bc they’re in a relationship with me and partly bc i personally wouldn’t want to see that type of negativity directed towards the person i care about. it’s a matter of respect for your partner.

“I’ll be honest with you, Garrett━ I don’t like you very much.”

The restaurant table you’re both sitting at is tucked away in a corner and gives you enough privacy to feel comfortable having this conversation with Garrett out in public. The restaurant itself is exclusive in its own right, similarly to the first place Garrett took you. It’s not as high class in the sense that you feel underdressed with business casual, but it’s the type of locale that other celebrities or higher class individuals tend to frequent and it makes you feel secure in the fact that the staff are trained to be discreet about anything they might overhear.

“But,” you shrug, “I don’t think you need me to tell you that.”

Garrett takes a slow sip from his coffee and raises an eyebrow at you over the rim of his cup. While he does so, you appraise him. The only other time you’ve seen him in something other than his training attire or some equally comfortable athletic-adjacent wear was the first night you both went out, and you hadn’t really been paying much attention to him then━ too focused on trying not to scream your head off in frustration.

He looks good though, which you’re loath to admit. Garrett, at the very least, has fashion sense if nothing else. If he were even half decent his style might’ve been enough to make up for the rest of the decency he’s missing, but as it stands he’s so far below the bar that his ability to dress nice only serves to get him within jumping distance of your lowest standards.

He lowers his cup back down the table with a faint clink, and then steeples his fingers together on the table.

“Quite frankly, Y/N━” the way your name sounds on his lips makes you shiver, but not at all in the way it’s described in the romance novels you used to read back in school. It’s like the human equivalent of your hackles rising, sensing danger, knowing you need to make yourself bigger to appear like more of a threat, “━I don’t really care what you think of me. This is more of a business transaction than an actual relationship. You don’t need to like me, you just need to pretend you do.”

He ends it with what would be a charming smile on anyone else, but knowing who he is beneath his charismatic facade makes it look sleazy.

You scoff. “For a guy who’s so desperate to fix his reputation, you sure aren’t doing anything to actually try and fix who you are as a person.”

It’s his turn to scoff. “I don’t actually need to be a better person, I just need everyone to think I’m a better person.”

“Fair enough.” You can’t argue with that. “But if I’m going to be spending a prolonged amount of time with you, you’re gonna have to at least pretend to not be a total dick.” You take a sip of your coffee.

He watches you for a moment━ observes your face, your hands, the way you tap your fingers against the table once your cup has been lowered. And you watch him right back. His steepled fingers have intertwined together, and he’s resting his chin atop them in a show of nonchalance, but his eyebrows are furrowed tight and his shoulders are pulled tense.

“What do you even want out of this?” He finally asks after another few seconds of silence broken only by the quiet drone of other restaurant patrons in the background. “What’s so important to you that it matters more than whatever notoriety being with me could give you?”

The Manchester skyline outside the window draws your gaze as you ponder how to go about explaining your answer. The storm-darkened sky casts the city streets below in a heavy shadow, which mimics your own mood as of late. It’s the weekend now, but Lando’s call and the things he’d drunkenly said still looms over you. You’d spent the week in a bad mood that not even your newfound friendship with Jack was capable of easing, and each day with continued radio silence on Lando’s end━ the fact that he can’t even bother to apologize himself━ only sours things more and more.

It had soured even more when McLaren’s PR team manager had reached out to you with the knowledge that you could plan on being back at the Technology Centre in Woking by the end of the month, in just under two weeks. In and of itself this hadn’t been bad news, but it meant seeing Lando again and unless he reaches out first to extend an olive branch, you could almost guarantee you’d be in for an uncomfortably awkward reunion.

But none of that matters right now.

“I’ll admit, I’m taking a page out of your book and being a prick,” you say as you turn back to Garrett. “But, in my case, it’s entirely warranted because he was a prick first.”

“What’d this guy do?”

In an odd turn of events, it feels as though you’re gossiping with Garrett Ward of all people. Without the context of your relationship with him━ the real one, not the one you’re pretending to have━ you imagine you probably look like two friends talking shit, or pretty close to the couple you’re supposed to be. Despite being such a twat normally, Garrett really does just come across as being a normal guy.

You have to remind yourself just what he threatened to do. He’s not a normal guy━ he’s dangerous. But he’s also a crucial part of your plan, and there was certainly some truth when he’d called things between you a business transaction. You don’t have to like him, but you have to trust that he’s got his own best interest in mind and you can certainly capitalize off of that.

“He had some choice words about our ‘relationship,’” you start, fiddling with the handle of your cup. “And even though we aren’t actually together and I probably wouldn’t touch you even if we were the last two people on Earth, it’s the principle behind it all. He has no right to judge me so harshly for my relationship choices, so I’m going to flaunt that I don’t care what he thinks, he’s not my keeper, and I will date whoever I damn well please,” you finish with a huff.

Garrett blinks at you. You’re starting to think he just has a staring problem, but before you can call him out on it he rolls his eyes, crosses his arms, and leans back in his seat━ looking the part of the smug douche he actually is. “You like this guy, and you want to use me to make him jealous because you’re pissed that he hasn’t given any hint at being interested in you but still feels as though as if he can be possessive over you.”

You blink at him. “No. Absolutely not.”

He raises an infuriating eyebrow.

“Fuck you,” you mutter into your cup, taking a sip to avoid having to say anything more.

Garrett heaves a sigh. “I suppose I could help you with that. We’ll be doing the couple shit anyways, might as well kill two birds with one stone and solve your problem and mine.” The way he says it makes it seem as though he’s doing you a favor, and if you weren’t so sure that he’d rescind his willingness to help if you argued with him, you’d call him out on the fact that technically he’s the one who owes you after you agreed to help him with his dilemma in the first place.

“Why not just be honest with him?” He says after another moment.

You snap your eyes back to him. “What?”

“Why not just be honest?” He repeats with a shrug. “Aren’t you worried he’ll lose eventually lose interest if he thinks you’re off the market?”

You scoff, “I’m not off the market. I’m just not available to the public.” You’d sat awake at night not long after things with Garrett began and realized that it really was all just an act. Actors kiss in front of a camera all the time, but at the end of the day they go home to their real partners and that’s the only person that really matters. Things aren’t all that different between you and Garrett. You call yourselves a couple, but side from the agreement that you’ll act like one in public, there’s no obligation or commitment to put one another first. Garrett will always prioritize his career, reputation, and friendships over you, and you’re rather inclined to do the same.

He purses his lips.

“Oh please,” you roll your eyes. “As if you expect me to believe you aren’t still planning to pick up a few birdies at the pub and show them a fun time.”

“My situation is different than yours. I’m the one trying to convince the media I’ve changed, which means I need someone who can be discreet, and a birdie from the pub certainly isn’t that.” He shrugs his shoulders. “Not getting laid for a few months is just a sacrifice I have to make to keep my place at Man City.”

You don’t mention that no matter what he does to try and clean up his act, Manchester City won’t be keeping him around after his contract expires. He wouldn’t believe you anyway, but even if he did you doubt he’d be all that willing to continue with this facade.

“More fun for me then,” you say instead, returning the smug smirk he’d given you earlier.

He glares.

INSTAGRAM.

liked by user, user, and 487,462 others

footballfansofficial UPDATE: Manchester City Forward Garrett Ward once again seen out in public with girlfriend and Formula One photographer Y/N L/N! The couple were caught sharing a romantic evening for the first time on the 5th of January, and have once again been spotted Saturday, the 20th, following Ward and L/N’s public posts on social media platform, Instagram. Ward has reportedly been making progress with his injury recovery, and is speculated to be rejoining the team on the pitch in February if all continues to go well. As the 2024 Formula One season draws nearer, it’s also expected that L/N will be returning to her McLaren roots, after working with Manchester City to photograph their winter training, which leaves fans wondering how their relationship will fare. Check the link in our bio for the full article!

view all 13,511 comments

user i’m starting to warm up to the idea of them as a couple… 👀👀👀

user I WAS SO CONVINCED SHE WAS WITH LANDO NORRIS??? WERE THEY NOT EVER TOGETHER??? 🤯

↳ user i don’t think they were which is super shocking bc she posts him all the time on insta

↳ user i mean?? that’s technically her job?? as a photographer for mclaren she takes and posts pictures of the mclaren drivers. if you scroll across her feed she also has a lot of oscar from 2023, and carlos and daniel from their years with the team. she’s been working with manchester city recently too and has been posting the players as well. it’s just that she’s worked with lando the longest consecutively so ofc her account is gonna have him posted more than the others

↳ user LET ME BE DELUSIONAL I ACTUALLY THOUGHT THEY WERE SO CUTE 😭😭

user i really wish garrett would actually focus on his career instead of dating women bro’s contract ends at the end of the season and he doesn’t even seem bothered

user MAN CITY RE-SIGN GARRETT WARD 2024 🩵🩵🩵

user i hope the long distance makes them break up

↳ user me toooooo that bitch needs to get away from my man

↳ user he’s too good for her

↳ user be so fucking fr, she’s never had a scandal in her entire career but garrett ward has had dozens in just the past few years. if anyone is too good, it’s her 🙄

user MCLAREN WCC 2024 🧡🏁 AND MAN CITY TREBLE WINNERS 2024 🩵⚽️

user don’t hate me but i totally thought garrett ward was gay

↳ user ah, yes, most notorious casanova, known for his many nightly escapades with women, that’s 100% proof that he’s gay

↳ user idk that was just the vibe i got

↳ user be so fucking fr 💀💀

user will city even want to re-sign him after the season is up?? he’s been on loan for the majority of his contract anyway, playing in the championship of all things, and now he’s back but he’s missed a majority of the season cuz of an injury. i personally don’t think garrett ward stands a chance against the current starting forwards, so even when he’s recovered who’s to say he’ll play in any matches?? just seems like a waste for city to keep him around if he isn’t even being used

user if ward is actually cleaning up his act then good for him

↳ user real. all these ppl acting like she's suddenly changing him into a whole new person against his will, but none of them have stopped to think that maybe he WANTS to change.

━━ tags: @maih23 @urfavnoirette @leclercsluv @f1luvur @formulaal @a-disturbing-self-reflection @starlightpierre @chezmardybum @marshmummy @405rry @sideboobrry11 @d3kstar @mcmuppet @happylittlereader @casperlikej @5starl1ght @bellezaycafe @whentheautumnleavesfall @mess-is-my-aesthetic @ssprayberrythings @landosgirlxoxo @lifelessfan @81ja

━━ a/n: i did it! got this part done so much faster AND i didn't wanna rage while i did it 😌 feeling pretty proud of myself for that. anyways! hope you all enjoy!

[judesmoonbeauty]

2024 Villain’s Festival: Jude Jazza Bonus Story Part 1 ♛

Fan translation only. Not 100% accurate. Please expect grammatical errors. Cybird owns everything. Feel free to re-blog, but please do NOT post my translations elsewhere. Please note, I will translate what I am able to obtain during the event. This is a two-part story with part two only available to those who rank. I can not guarantee I will receive part two. Part 2 was achieved.

Translation notes are marked with *** Alternate translation is marked with///

Kate: Haa…

(Yesterday, Victor's momentum got me nodding my head…..)

(It's a lot of responsibility to decide where all that money goes.)

Starting today, I’m sure they’ll go after my heart any way they can for the bonus.

(But, I don't think I can stand the thought of being targeted for a while….)

I think I understand a little better now how the criminals targeted by the Crown feel.

I'd like to hide myself at least for the morning to prepare my mind.

(Okay, I got out of there without anyone finding me….!)

(Let's just stay out here and kill some time and go back in this afternoon.)

???: Where are you going out so early in the morning, Princess?

(This voice is…?)

Kate: Jude…?

I slowly turned around and saw Jude standing at the gate under the dazzling morning sun.

(I knew it was Jude. But there was something wrong with the way he just spoke.)

Jude: What’s wrong? You’re making a strange face.

Kate: What's wrong with…..the way your talking?

Jude: You’re curious?

Jude: I wondered if this way of speaking will make you like me more.…..

Kate: Huh? Like?

Jude: Ah...I almost forgot. I bought this because I thought you would like it.

He hands me a paper bag, manipulating his beautiful Queen's English even though he is not at work.***(See T/L at the bottom).

It was a paper bag from my favorite bakery. The bag was warm and smelled good, as if it was freshly baked.

Kate: I can have this?

Jude: Of course. I bought it for you.

Jude: I just think it's a bit much for one person to eat.

Jude: I'm hoping we can have breakfast together…..what do you think? 

Kate: “What do I think”?!

(I can't believe you asked me for my opinion…..!? Who is this, could it be prank ......!?)

It was almost as if Victor would jump out and say something like, "Yeah! It was a huge success!

Jude is being totally strange right now.

Kate: Um, have you been working too much? Or did you hit your head?

Jude: What makes you think that?

Kate: Because you’re acting too strange! I think you should see Roger!

Jude: Am I sick? There's nothing wrong with me……but if so, I hope you’ll take care of me, Kate.

Jude scooped up my hand in a flowing gesture and dropped a kiss on its fingertips.

Kate: Eek….!!

Jude: …….

I thought I saw a vein on Jude's temple rise when he saw me scream.

I may have seen it wrong, though, because it disappeared in an instant.

Jude: I've only recently fallen for you by accident, so it's no wonder that you’re surprised.

Jude: What do you think? What if we went on a date for the day, and I let you know how I feel about you?

(Oh, he stared acting strange since today...... perhaps, without a doubt.)

Kate: Jude, did you do something elaborate like this just to collect all the bonuses?!

Jude: No way….

Kate: Because, even if heaven and earth were to topple over, there’s no way that you would fall in love with me, Jude. 

Jude: ……..

Kate: See, I knew it!

Kate: If you can get money just by spoiling me, you’d think it’s worth the money! 

Jude: Haa…..***(See T/L note at the bottom)

With a sigh, the mask of the pasted-on smile crumbled.

Jude: Ya know exactly what I’m doin’….If ya know that much, then give me what I want.

The sweet atmosphere from earlier has completely changed. Jude shoots me a sharp look.

I felt a little relieved because his eyes, which held a dangerous light, were the same as usual.

Kate: Give it…..

Jude: The winner's necklace. Ya wear it, don'tcha?

Kate: I will not give it to you!

Kate: This is my very heart and I will not give it when threatened. Because those are the rules. 

Jude: Tsk, how annoyin’. If you're gonna talk about rules, whaddaboutcha, who tried to escape from the review?

Kate: I’m not trying to escape….

Jude: If ya weren't gonna run away, where were ya goin’ to go out so early in the morning?

Kate: That’s…

Jude: Oh, I remember now. Ya were gonna go out with me, weren'tcha?

Kate: What? I didn’t promise that….

Jude: Is there any other reason why ya left the castle so early in the mornin’ other than your plans with me?

Jude: I can't imagine. Why don't we ask some of the other guys?

Kate: Is that...a threat that if I don't go out with you, you'll reveal that I tried to run away?

Jude: If that's whatcha think, then that's whatcha think.

Jude: So, whaddya doin’ today?

Kate: …….

Kate: I'm going out with you Jude.….

As I gave up and accepted the proposal, Jude smiled wryly, as if convinced of victory.

***Queen’s English. This is a literal translation. According to Cambridge Dictionary: the English language as it is spoken in the south of England, considered by some people as a standard of good English. Essentially, Jude is speaking proper, well-educated English when trying to woo Kate. 

***I believe it's self-explanatory, but I went all out on his informal speech just to contrast it with his proper English that was described as beautiful by Kate.

[Next] [Master List]

[theemporium]

💰 with carlos… like if he could he’d try to give reader the moon and the stars bc he literally worships her 🫶🏻

thank you for requesting!🫶🏽

.

Carlos Sainz didn’t believe in perfection until he met you.

You were everything and more. There were not enough words in all the languages combined to explain the way he felt about you. To explain the way you made his heart race and sing, to explain the way his chest tightened when he saw you smile, to explain the way every single cell in his body wanted to follow you to the ends of the Earth just to be with you.

You were it for him. He knew that from the first moment he ever met you. But it had only been a few months into this funny, little relationship you found yourselves in and he knew he couldn’t tell you all the words that laid on his heart just yet. 

So, he showed you how he felt. 

You had been overwhelmed by the gifts and the way Carlos expressed his feelings. When he was happy, he got you something because he wanted to celebrate that happiness. When he was sad, he got you something because your happiness made him feel better. Whether he was angry or frustrated or upset or anything, he was giving you something. 

And despite your guilt of the amount of money he was spending on you, Carlos would kiss away your concerns with the assurance that every penny was worth spending on you.

“Carlos.”

“Mi amor.”

You shot the boy a look as he stood at the end of the bed, grinning ear to ear as he looked at you with such love and adoration in his eyes. You would have found the sight wholesome if it weren’t for the large pile of boxes lying at the bottom of the bed.

“This is too much,” you said to him with a shake of your head. 

“Well, I don’t think it’s enough,” he retorted with a shrug of his shoulders, glancing down at the various designer-labelled boxes like it was a completely normal sight to wake up to. 

You were barely awake, still naked under the sheet that was currently covering you, as your boyfriend stood at the end of the bed in sweatpants he had shoved on before he rushed out to pick up the surprise he had gotten you. 

You were expecting breakfast, not half of the Louis Vuitton store.

“Carlos,” you sighed as you shook your head. “You’ve already brought me on this wonderful holiday and not let me spend a dime. I can’t accept these.”

“But you can and you will,” Carlos said with a smile like he knew how to convince you. Before you know it, he is crawling back into bed and kissing you senseless until you were relaxed and pliant underneath him. “My money is your money, mi amor. So, if anything, this is me just spending money on myself.”

You snorted. “That’s not how it works.”

“Well, that’s how my logic works so accept it,” he grinned as he leaned down to kiss you again. “I’m just being selfish, amor. A selfish bastard who wants to see you in all the pretty things I’ve got you.” 

You flushed at his words. “You’re insatiable, Mr Sainz.”

“When it comes to you? Always,” he said simply as his nose playfully nudged yours. “I will never get enough of you.”

“You know how to make a girl feel special,” you mused.

“Not a girl, just the girl,” he corrected with a cheeky smile.

.

[morganski-19]

The One With the Second Date

“Ok, I’m not sure what I was expecting to happen in the end,” Ryan explains as they leave the theater, “but it wasn’t that.”

Nancy laughs. “It was a stereotypical romcom, they were always going to end up together in the end.”

Ryan and Nancy walk down the sidewalk. Ryan’s hands shoved into his jacket pockets while Nancy’s are at her sides.

“I just think that she was much better with the other guy. They had way more chemistry.”

Nancy nods with another laugh.

They come to a stop outside of a parking garage. Ryan turns toward her. “My car’s in there,” he points awkwardly to the garage.

“My bus stop is right over there,” Nancy points across the street.

Ryan lets out a nervous huff. “You know, we didn’t really get to talk much tonight. With seeing a movie and everything. My parking’s for the whole night. And there’s this nice ice cream place around the corner that we could go to. If you wanted to.”

Nancy smiles. “Sure.”

“Sure?” Ryan looks generally surprised. “Sure, yeah ok. It’s this way.”

He leads them across the street and down one block. Turning at the corner and halfway down, there is a small ice cream shop. They walk in, a family and one other couple at the tables. But otherwise, it’s empty. Nancy looks at the options, debating which to choose. While Ryan immediately knows what he wants and asks the employee. One scoop of vanilla and one cookies and cream. Making sure to note that they needed to be rung up together but were in no rush.

When Nancy chooses the honey vanilla flavor, Ryan beats her to register to pay.

“You know I can pay for us at least once,” Nancy jokes. She instead pulls out a few dollars and slides them into the tip jar.

Ryan laughs. Taking back his change and dumping it into the jar as well. “It was my idea, so it’s my money.”

Nancy walks over to the table in the corner. “So, I need to plan the next date and then I get to pay?”

“Yeah,” Ryan stutters. There’s been a nervous energy with him all night. “That would work.”

“I promise I don’t mean anything by this question, I’m just generally interested. Why are you so nervous? We’ve already been on one date.”

Ryan sets down his ice cream, rubbing his palms on his pants. “I’ve been on what seems like hundreds of first dates. It’s down to a routine at this point. But as far as second dates go, there’s only been a few. And most of those times, it never went anywhere else, and I was back on the app the next morning.”

Nancy nods, showing that she’s listening.

“I get that’s just how dating can be, sometimes. Especially through dating apps. But I just want something that lasts more than a week or two, you know?”

“I do.” Nancy stares down at her ice cream. “I kind of gave up dating for a while for the same reason. It was just horrible date after horrible date. So I gave up.”

“What made you try again?”

Nancy sighs. Debating how much she should tell. “My best friend, who also lives across the hall from me, got a new girlfriend.”

“Oh,” he says. With a mix of shock and concern.

“There’s nothing there, I promise. Back when we were in college, there was a phase where we both liked each other but didn’t know. Part of me kind of always harbored those feelings for her, but it was time to finally let them go. Whatever we could have had was over, it was time to recognize that.”

“And you though going on a dating app would help with that?”

Nancy lets her hands fall into her hands. “That makes me sound like an asshole. I swear that I didn’t agree to go on a date with you just to get over my stupid feelings. They played no part in deciding to go on a date with you.”

Ryan reaches across the table and gently pushes Nancy’s hands out of the way. “I believe you, for what it’s worth. We’ve all been there at some point.”

“That makes me feel a little better.”

“I appreciate you being honest with me. I,” he pauses. Taking a deep breath. “I really like you, Nancy. You’re probably the best person I’ve met on one of these apps.”

Nancy smiles. “Same here.”

They fall into a comfortable silence. Finishing their ice cream and heading outside again. When Ryan goes to shove his hands into his pockets again, Nancy stops him. Taking his hand into hers. They walk back to the street where they would need to part ways. Nancy waiting for the bus and Ryan crossing the street to his car.

“Would it be ok if I drove you home?” he asks. “It’s dark and way better than a bus.”

“Yeah, that would be ok.”

She follows him to his car and directs them to her apartment building. He finds a spot down the street and parks. Planning on walking her to her door. With full explanation that she can tell him no.

Instead, she rolls her eyes and gets out of the car. Waiting for him to get out. He does, stumbling over his step a bit.

“So, for our next date,” Nancy talks as they walk up the stairs. “I was thinking that we could to this Mexican place I love.”

“Yeah, that sounds great.”

“And it’s my idea so my money, right?” She stops in front of her door. Facing him.

He laughs. “That was the deal.”

Inside of Steve and Robin’s apartment, Robin is staring through the peephole. Having heard Nancy come back and got curious. That’s all, curious.

“What the hell are you doing?” Steve asks. Looking unenthused.

Robin shushes him. “Nancy is back from her date. She’s talking with the guy outside the door.”

“Let me see.” Steve pushes Robin out of the way, looking through the peephole. “Oh, he’s cuter in person.”

Robin slaps his arm. “Don’t encourage this.”

“How am I encouraging this? I’m behind a door, she can’t hear me. Also, it’s too late for that. I was there for the pre-date crisis.”

“And she still went out on the date?”

Steve shrugs. “Yeah well, she seemed to really like the guy. Argyle even did his weird stalking thing he does and found nothing bad. He checked out.”

Robin pushes Steve out of the way again, looking through the peephole once more. “Oh no, she’s doing that face. You know that face.”

“I am well aware of the face.” Steve leans up against the wall next to the door. “Why is this bothering you so much? She’s allowed to date if she wants to.”

“I don’t know,” Robin groans. Letting her forehead thunk against the door. “She just deserves so much, and she’s been on so many dates and none of them have been good. I’m just . . .  looking out for her. That’s all.”

Steve hums, disbelieving. Pulling out his phone.

Steve: I think Robin is jealous of Nancy’s new guy

Eddie: Oh wow, what a shocker

Eddie: Do you not remember the two-hour long pity session she conveniently had after Nancy had the first date

Steve: They’re out in the hall right now, Robin can’t stop looking at them through the peephole

Eddie: Can’t she just pretend to take out the trash like a normal person

Steve: Are you going to go do that now?

Eddie: Yes

Eddie: I need to see this guy in person

Back in the hall, while all of that was ensuing, Nancy and Ryan were saying goodbye. Not exactly making any moves toward it. Until Eddie opens the door, with a half full bag of trash in hand, interrupts it.

“Oh, hey, Nance. I didn’t hear you get back,” he says, nonchalant. Looking over at Ryan with fake shock. “Sorry, didn’t mean to interrupt.”

Nancy sighs, catching onto Eddie’s play. “Ryan, this is my roommate Eddie.”

Ryan holds out his hand. “Nice to meet you, man. Nancy’s told me about you.”

“Same here.” Eddie shakes his hands. “I’m just gonna, thank you.” He steps in between them to head down the hall to the trash shoot. Leaving them alone again.

“I should get going,” Ryan says, pushing his hands into his pockets again. “It was really nice to see you again.”

Nancy smiles. “Yeah, it was. I’ll text you later when I’m free.”

“I’ll be looking for it.”

There is a break of silence. Expectation in the air. Ryan shrugs in the direction of the stairs. “I’ll see you later.”

“Oh my god.” Nancy stops his from walking away. Grabbing his face and pulling him down. Pressing a kiss to his lips. He’s shocked for a second, before pressing into it. “Have a good night,” she says after pulling back.

Ryan steps backward, a blush covering his face. “Yeah, uh, yeah. You too. I’ll text you later. Yeah. Bye.”

He turns to walk down the hall while Nancy snorts to herself. Eddie comes back around the corner with a teasing smile.

“Don’t even start, Munson.” Nancy walks into the apartment.

“Oh, I wasn’t going to say anything.” He closes the door behind them. “I was just merely observing.”

Nancy glares at him while taking off her earring. “Observing?”

“He seems nice,” Eddie teasing tone.

“He is nice.”

“Is he a good kisser?”

“There it is.” Nancy walks to her bedroom. “Night.”

Eddie leans on the back of the couch. “No, I wanted to do the after-date gossip.”

“Maybe tomorrow.” She closes the bedroom door.

Eddie sighs, pulling out his phone to see many new texts from Steve.

Steve: Holy shit, she kissed him

Steve: Robin is not taking that well

Steve: She’s trying to play off her jealousy as protectiveness

Steve: Maybe we should warn Nancy about the tirade she’s going to get tomorrow about the dangers of kissing random men

Eddie: I don’t know, the guy was pretty respectful about it

Eddie: He was smiling like an idiot when I passed him in the hall

Eddie: And Nancy seems happy about it

Steve: This is going to be both entertaining and a pain in the ass

Eddie: Agreed

Eddie: I take it Robin isn’t going out tonight then

Steve: Sadly not

Steve: There goes our plans

Eddie: Damn, I kind of really want to kiss you right now

Steve: You know

Steve: No one is ever in the laundry room this late

Eddie: I could do some laundry

Steve: Meet you there in twenty

Tag list (let me know if you want to be added or taken off) @slowandsteddie, @annieofhearts, @cacdyke, @ubpd, @captain--low,

@thespaceantwhowrites, @goodolefashionedloverboi, @anne-bennett-cosplayer, @lunaticparisianlady,

@apomaro-mellow, @dolphincliffs, @dragonmama76, @maggiebug417, @stevesbipanic,

@fearieshadow, @eightpackdiaz, @au79burger @bookworm0690 , @practicallybegging,

@potato-of-the-lord, @autumncrocusandladybug, @estrellami-1, @ilovecupcakesandtea, @gregre369

@my2amgaythoughts, @ellietheasexylibrarian, @emmabubbles, @eriquin, @grtwdsmwhr

@croatoan-like-its-hot, @dreamercec, @dreamy-jeans137, @morallyundefined

[evolnoomym]

1. This is me trying

Sugar-Daddy!Joel Miller x f!OC

General Masterlist | „Runaway Butterfly 🦋“ Masterlist

Summary: You may have gotten out, but the damage is done. As you look back on the past you take a step forward in the present.

Rating: 18+ explicit content mdni!!!!

Word count: 2k

Warnings: no y/n, f!reader, this is how my first OC Moon got born, childhood abuse, self hatred, alludes to sa & suicide attempt(s), 2 separate instances of underage OC getting taken advantage of, nothing to graphic, Weed consumption, panic attack, OC sexualizes herself, she has tits and ass

If I missed anything please let me know 🙏🏻

Authors note: This is the first chapter of my my first Series, it’s been sitting in my notes basically for about 3 months. (Can we believe I’ve been here for 3 months already 😅) I know it’s rather short but the following chapters will be a lot longer. No Joel except in photos, also the Hawaiian Flannel he wears in one of those is the same as @strang3lov3 owns, hers is inspired by Jim Hopper. Bug was also the one that told me to write, so it’s all thanks to her 🙏🏻🙏🏻🙏🏻

Shoutout to @saradika-graphics & @cafekitsune for the dividers 🫶🏻

Big thank you to for beta reading @fhatbhabiee & @jennaispunk 🦋🦋🦋

Disclaimer: English is not my first language so if you come across mistakes it might be due to that. I’m totally here for constructive criticism or feedback on how to improve. In general I appreciate comments, likes and reblogs greatly 👌🏻

Technically you are missing, you didn’t tell them where you’d go, they didn’t even knew you’d go at all. Though, you are sure that they are happy to be ridden of the problem, connecting all of them.

They took your pride, confidence, dignity and hope. They clipped your wings early on so you’d never get away, no chance at getting out of this nightmare. Always destined to be the black sheep, the picture-perfect scapegoat for all of them, and whenever something went wrong you got blamed.

No wonder you started to hate yourself, believing their cruel words. You were never good enough and they made you think it would be better if you would just be gone.

They tore you apart, made you hate the girl in the mirror till you just wanted to give up, they put all the blame on you, they used you as a little girl sized punching bag, they made you believe that everybody grows up that way.

Since both of your parents were equally unstable people, it forced you to grow up quickly, so you could take care of them. Never would you know who that real version of yourself could’ve been, without all the trauma, a loss to carry forever.

How should you have known that what happened was wrong, if you never knew anything else. You thought the violence and the loneliness was part of being a little girl.

With time you became something akin to a shapeshifter, trying to be whatever it took to fulfill their desires, if it meant to be loved. Even just the tiniest amount of recognition, was worth giving yourself up.

But those closest betrayed you. Turns out it was all for nothing at all. All the sacrifices you made were so entirely useless, breaking yourself down to become the version they might’ve liked best, trying fit the shape of their choice and satisfy their deranged ego’s.

You scraped together any amount of savings you still had and sold everything you owned that was worth anything. Your Dad and Grandma gave you some money and that was it.

They had pushed you so far, you felt the need to flee to an entirely different continent, almost a 15 hour fly and 525 miles away from what was supposed to be home, that’s what it took to get some semblance of freedom and peace. Austin became your home, it was a fresh start and that’s exactly what was needed.

To much happened, to many unforgivable occurrences. You couldn’t ever heal in the place they broke you in, surrounded by abusers. They might have forgotten, painted an entirely new picture of the truth for themselves, but you’ll always remember what really went down.

You could still vividly remember your brother’s frantic calls once he realized you were gone. He couldn’t believe you’d really go through on that childish silly dream, he always laughed at you for saying, you’d just pack up one day and leave everything behind.

Guess he’s not laughing anymore.

After countless attempts you finally gave in and picked up, only to met by loud thundering voices yelling at you. It was all about how insane you must be, so incredibly selfish, overly dramatic, over-emotional and weak for simply running away.

A coward.

As always it’s just about them, their feelings and what would be best for them. No care for what you’d want and what the best for you could be.

You tolerated more than anyone else would’ve, before ending the call. It was just an accumulation of empty threats, supposed to put you back in line, but it did the opposite. That phone call was the last time you’d speak to them.

8 months have passed since leaving, its now May and here you sit lounging in the living room of your tiny two-room flat. The soft, grey, cloud-like couch was one of your best investments, making it your second favorite place besides your bed.

Its Friday. The clock shows that it’s close to 6 pm, the early-evening breeze flows in through the open balcony and alongside the bustling noises of the streets outside. Cars honking, tires screeching, kids yelling, people laughing and birds chirping, all of it reminds of the overwhelming world waiting outside of your safe bubble.

You just pulled out your rolling tray, trying to quiet your mind, you’ve barely finished licking the paper. When your phone suddenly goes *ping* *ping*, a sound you haven’t heard before.

Normally that might make you anxious but today you are just annoyed by any sort of interruption to your routine.

„Ughhh.”

You begrudgingly get up to retrieve your phone from the kitchen counter. When you reach it and take a look at the screen you immediately understand what caused the strange sound.

A notification for the Sugar-Daddy website you had started using earlier this week. You have tried those odd websites before, at 16 thinking it would be a good idea. Back then you were already after the attention of a mature, wealthy and significantly older Men.

Looking back you always had a weird infatuation with men outside your age range.

Your first kiss happened, when you were 13 and still played with dolls. He was 21 and had just gotten his drivers license, already moved out and had a job. He took you on a walk, then sat down on an old park bench and just kissed you which felt like heaven,at the time. He was your Bestfriend’s older brother who knew exactly how madly in love you were with him.

Two years later, at 15, you thought that 25 year old police apprentice was seriously interested in you, convinced he’d make you his. But, no, he wanted to fuck a minor, he was after the thrill of something tight and young, to be the first to break you in and then throw you away once you served your purpose.

Even though you were foolish and naive, the perfect opportunity for him to use, it seemed your desperate want for genuine love chased him away before he could go in for the kill.

In those instances you were lucky that nothin worse happened, but at 17 the luck had run out or maybe what happened is what you get for making the mistake of trusting.

It was the friendly guy in your semester group, the one who was troubled himself but made you feel like it’s okay, he seemed to understand you. He became a good friend, he made you feel less alone and in the end he became the biggest nightmare.

Your trust was already broken and played with many times before him, but what he did was one too much. He changed the way you viewed the world, the way you lived.

You were deeply afraid of ever running in to him again, and when it happened you could practically feel the world stop spinning.

It was just a worst case scenario that never came true until it did. You remember that day like it was yesterday, it was supposed to be a quiet run to the grocery store, shopping with a friend. Standing in the bread aisle, you were waiting beside the cart for your friend to make her decision. You just stared down at the ground for a split second before looking back up and there he was. Staring at you with this awful smile of his. Ringing in your ears, shivers running down your spine and shaking hands were all you needed to know that getting out of there was more than necessary.

As you stood at the cash register the thought that it might not have been him weaseled itself into your head. The hope that it might’ve been just some mix-up got crushed when a voice behind you spoke up. That voice, the way he talks, you would recognize it anywhere. He was right there, the monster who looked so nice in the beginning was just a couple inches away. You could practically feel him breathe down your neck, just like he did that night. Keeping your composure was the biggest challenge.

Afterwards on the way home, in your friends car you broke down, never ever would you want him that close again. He contributed to you wanting to get away.

Now at 21, even after everything that happened, you thought about giving the Sugar-Daddy thing one last chance. The money would be nice, of course it would, living free without having to worry, having someone who takes care of you and you get to just enjoy living, is the dream.

You wanted to experience that, so the Profil was created, a few pictures were added showing your face, one displayed a peak of cleavage and another with focus on your backside, wearing tight pants that accentuate your plush ass all while you are just sweetly gazing over your shoulder.

Those photos were choosen with good reasoning, you believed that showing skin would attract more attention from the Sugar-Daddy’s.

A classmate once told you „You know...the only fuckable thing about you is that set of tits and that ass. Nothin else, well except maybe ur mouth,“ all while smugly laughing.

And he wasn’t the only one who said shit like that, so you believed it, showin off the assets it was and it worked but none of these man were really what you were looking for.

After 2 days of being flooded with messages, little to nothing came through anymore which you were a bit happy about, since the overwhelming attention was too much too quickly.

You are a recluse, three friends that’s all you got, two of them not even living in Austin. A lot of times you just want to be alone with yourself. Branching out like 6 years ago is not your style anymore and you started to regret putting yourself out there like this. You would’ve probably deleted the profile if it wasn’t for the awfully handsome Man who apparently took a look at your profile which caused the whole strange notification-sound.

You could only see his name “Joel Miller” but that was enough to peak your interest.

You take your phone, walk back to the couch and sit down. You scutch backwards till you can feel the pillow at your back to lean against. You open his profile and your mouth goes dry instantly. He looks to be about 40 ish, his brown-grey streaked locks are neatly styled, a well groomed beard adorned his face and those grey patches certainly made you squirm in place.

They showed his age and that is what turned you on. His amber brown orbs were quickly pulling you in. In some of his photos he wore expensive lookin suits, all highly professional. In others he looked more casual, wearing flannels and even a cute hawaiian shirt in a picture that must’ve been taken on a beach.

He looked big, 6ft3 tall, tan skin, with broad shoulders, biceps that could crush you and his hands, oh they are a sight to behold, you thought of what he could possibly to with them. How would they feel on your body, holding your hand, caressing your face, stroking your head or squeezing your waist.

You feel your cheeks get warm, heart rate picking up and there is a tremble in your breathing, all because of him.

You can already imagine how much power he would have over you with his entire body, you want that.

With all the gawking and fanning you lost track of the time, 45 minutes where spend looking at him, that realization made you feel a bit embarrassed but it turned into shock when the *Ping* *Ping* sound of again, this time with a notification that read ”Congratulations, The verified Sugar-Daddy has sent you a message don’t let him wait to long, swipe here to answer,“ and then his name ”...Joel Miller“.

Maybe he would be different to those before him, maybe you got your luck back and so you decided swipe.

Please don’t repost, copy, translate, or feed into any AI, thank you 🙏🏻

People I think might be interested: @aurorawritestoescape @milla-frenchy @joelmillerisapunk @joelslegalwhre @punkshort @burntheedges @almostfoxglove @taeslarityy @joelsdagger @littlemisspascal

Taglist 🦋: @joelalorian @msjarvis @stevie75 @la-vie-est-une-fleur29 @beefrobeefcal @baronessvonglitter @sherala007 @moonlitbirdie @thundermartini @sjc7542

Please let me know if you want to be added to the taglist or taken off 🫶🏻