#as a kid i had a room all to myself where i could paint

[winds-of-zephyr416]

I love the idea that Saruman looked up to Sauron during the Almaren days so much. It always makes me think of Curumo as an annoying younger brother. Like,

Curumo: Hey bro come check this out!

Mairon: Not right now, I’m busy.

Curumo: No you have to come see it now

Mairon: I said no.

Curumo: Come on, please?

Mairon: No.

Curumo: come on come on come on come on come on come on come on com—

Mairon: No!! Leave me alone!

Curumo: Pleeeeaseee? I’ll leave if you just come see what it is!

Mairon, sighing: Fine. What is it.

Curumo: A dead slug I cast in silver! :D

Mairon: I AM NOT LOOKING AT THAT!

(Mairon would, actually. He just doesn��t like letting Curumo win).

[inbabylontheywept]

i once accidentally dated someone for a few months. its very difficult to explain how this happened, but the gist is that i thought we were hanging out, and she thought we were on dates, and it was just a very painfully highschool thing.

she was a little bit confused that i hadnt tried to pull any moves, at all, even a little. like, didnt even try holding hands because, and i cannot emphasize this enough, i did not know we were dating.

so, halloween rolled around, and she thought, you know, why wait for destiny, when you can grab it? so she hit me with a clue by four.

babylon, she said. babylon. my mom's gonna be out of town on halloween, and im gonna have the house to myself, and it's going to be kind of lonely. would you like to come to my house and watch scary movies with me?

you know, kind of a netflix and chill thing. except, and i cannot emphasize this enough, i did not know we were dating. also autism. so i took it at face value and said: oh! yeah! thatd be fun! and she thought she got her point across, but she didnt and it was a mess.

skip forward to halloween: my family has a block party every year, right? and at that point i was too old to really trick or treat, but we still wore costumes for our role in the block party, which in my case, was handing out cotton candy. so i took the first shift, and my costume was this homemade abomination minion thing. i had full yellow body paint, and goggles, and a bald cap, and overalls. the kids who saw it were like, uh, hm. overly realistic minion. and adults were like, oh, some kind of hills have eyes hillbilly with jaundice. very scary.

(it was not my best costume.)

my little brother swapped me out for second shift, and i was getting ready to change out to head to her house when i was like: no, she'll get a real kick out of this. this is one of the worst things i have ever worn. so i kept it on and just brought a change of clothes thinking i could shower real quick and change at her place after she saw my nightmare getup.

so i left after that, got there, knocked on her door, and she said come on in. so i went in, and there was this very long hall with an abrupt right turn into her living room where the tv was, and i went down the hall, and i made the turn, and my field of view went from beige drywal to her, on the couch, naked. naked in the paint me like one of your french girls pose. super naked.

i panicked. this was my first time seeing a real person like, full on sex naked,which is a totally different beast from other kinds of naked. you see one kind of naked and you think yeah, im ready for all the kinds of naked, but you arent. i wasnt at least. i really wasn't.

so my brain crashed to BIOS. she also crashed to BIOS, but for different reasons. of all the ways this could have turned me, having me show up in yellow body paint and overalls was pretty pretty low down the list.

so we sat there a while, and you know, she wasn't getting any less naked, which really wasn't helping me get my brain sorted out. it really wasnt much of a surprise when she got her bearings first and started asking questions.

"babylon," she said. "babylon. what are you wearing?"

and i was like, kind of rebooted, but i was nowhere near full functionality, so symbolic language wasnt loaded in yet. i had nothing running but my trusty autism.exe, so i said

"overalls"

and she looked at me like i was the dumbest person in the entire world, and i looked at her like she was the first naked person i had seen in real life who got naked specifically for me, and my upper level cognitive process went: "listen man, we are not going to get our shit together as long as 80% of your brain power is devoted to not blinking. you gotta get out of here."

and if id communicated that, maybe things would have been less of a mess, but instead i just kind of turned around and walked back to my car. i figured i could drive a few loops around the block, get my brain in order, and figure out what the hell we were gonna do.

the only thing i had said to her since arriving was, again, overalls.

first loop around, i was like: oh god fucking damnit. oh shit. oh shit. shes gonna get like, an eating disorder from this. oh no.

second loop around i was like: oh NOOOOO oh WHAT THE FUCK oh SWEET JESUS PLEASE. i dont wanna go back man. i just wanna bury this and forget about it. please. please. let this bitter cup pass from my lips.

and after my third loop, i went and i knocked on her door again.

she answered it this time, and i counted my lucky stars that she'd changed into some pajamas. she was all teary eyed which was the saddest thing ever, and we sat down in her kitchen and talked. it was pretty bad - i figured out we'd been dating, and she figured out that trying to jump from home plate to 3rd base is considered ballsy in baseball, least of all dating. no real winners there. and i can remember after all that, we sat there a bit a bit longer, just steadying ourselves, and i was like "well, im actually really glad we figured that out. guess i'll see you at school tomorow' and she said "WAIT. wait."

"lets watch shrek 2."

so we did and it was horrible. we did not look at each other. we did not say a word. we just sat in stony silence, while shrek 2 played in the background, and when it was done we shook hands. i think we might have been able to salvage that as a friendship if it hadnt been for shrek. as it was she turned white as a sheet and ran away every time she even got a glimpse of me at school, and that summer she moved to a new state to live with her dad. all her friends said she moved just so she wouldn't have to go to school with me anymore, and i dont actually think they were lying.

every time i hear relationship counselors talk about how important communication is, and i'm tempted to roll my eyes, i look back and go, alright. alright. theres probably some poor bastard, somewhere in the world, who doesnt even know that hes married.

and god help him when he figures it out.

other bad dating story here.

[whatifitis]

♡ i wish you would've stayed - LN 4 ♡

Summary: you and lando had a fling and things end but did he lie? he found someone new when he said he wasn't ready.

WC: 2636

CW: angst, very small mention of weight loss, overuse of song lyrics, use of quotes i found on tiktok

How can it be that everytime someone says they aren’t ready for a relationship with you, they always end up ready for the girl after? 

You and Lando had been friends for a couple of months before you ended up developing feelings for him. Like, who wouldn’t fall for him? He’s funny, cute, and charming. You guys would talk for hours on end. Everytime you two would find something in common, it felt like the invisible string between the two of you was real. Maybe all these things were signs that you had finally met your person. 

When you were able to talk to him, it felt like everything was okay. When it felt like no one wanted you around, he did. It didn’t matter if you just had a hellish day or not, he was always able to bring you back to joy and contentness in a second. He showed you how it felt to be loved, for the first time in your life. 

When you’d confessed to him about your feelings for him, he’d said he liked you as well. You remember nearly bursting into tears as giddiness swirled in your chest. This was the first time your feelings had been well received, and it was someone who you had really grown fond of. He didn’t want to be anything yet so as to not feel pressured so early in this relationship and you understood, you were fine with it. The two of you often joked about what to call your situation as neither of you liked the term ‘situationship’ and ‘casual’ definitely wasn’t it. It was just two people who really liked each other and wanted to see how things went.

Everyday, the two of you spoke for hours at a time and it was fun. You’d shared music with each other and you’d actually grown to enjoy music from his favorite artist. When you asked him to make a playlist of all his favorite songs by the artist, he was genuinely so excited and got to work instantly. You loved seeing him so happy and you’re glad it was because of you, selfishly so. When he’d sent you the playlist, he’d named it one of the verses from a song that you had sort of dedicated to him. You really fell hard for him. 

Even though it had just been a month or so, you were excited to picture a life with him. The two of you had even planned out your future home together. The colors of the walls of every room had already been picked out and it was the happiest you had been in a long time. 

“We’re gonna have a house by the beach, yeah? And we’re gonna have a dog that’s practically our baby. And we’re gonna name it ‘Lando’.”

“Lan, why are we naming it after you?” you softly laughed. 

“Well, when I was a kid, my family had gotten a dog and it was my job to name it. As the uncreative child I was, I named it after the best thing ever. Myself.” he smiled cheekily.

“No way. Oh my god.” you couldn’t help but laugh. 

“Hold on. I’m not done painting the scene.”

“Alright, apologies, my love. Please continue.” 

“So our dog, Lando, will lie in the sheets with us. The sun will always shine and there will be a ring on your hand. On your ring finger specifically. And I’ll hold you every night.”

But he lied. He made a promise he could never keep. He tried and tried until he couldn’t. 

As time went by, his texts began to slow down. But you weren’t upset. When the two of you began this whirlwind of a relationship, he’d mentioned how with work and his mental health, he’d often go days without having the energy to talk to anyone. You understood, you’d been there before, you told him as long as he would talk to you whenever he was able, that you were going to be okay. And you were. Your days would go by where you wouldn’t get a text from him and it was okay. You were productive during the days and while you did miss him, you knew his struggles and you let him be with the occasional messages to check on him. 

Then one Thursday in the fall, your world came crashing down. You sort of knew it was coming. There were signs that you chose to ignore, hoping it wasn’t true. But then you got the text “I don’t think we should talk anymore.” You really tried to understand. He said he felt guilty for dragging you along and that he didn’t want to keep doing it to you. He said he was tired and he wasn’t able to maintain a relationship of any sort. So you said ok. That was the last time the two of you spoke. 

For weeks, you cried over this loss. It wasn’t just about essentially getting dumped. To you, he was your best friend and you lost him. That was the worst part. Not the fact that you didn’t have anyone to love anymore. Not that he just up and left. It was the fact that he was your friend before everything and you don’t have any part of him now. 

You knew you had some fault in the ending though. You’d said things that weren’t the right things to say at the time. You had messed up often. You just wish you could take those back though. You wish you could’ve said something different. Then maybe he’d still be yours. 

You told your friends what happened and it’s safe to say they all dislike him now. After everything, they started stating their opinions and talked shit about him but it didn’t help. You didn’t hate him, although you should have. You wished you could hate him and be angry, but you’re not. You’re just sad. 

Everything reminds you of him. Every song is about him. Every poem is about him. Every book is about him. The blue in the water is him. The sun shining through your window is him. His face is everywhere. His voice is everywhere. His laugh is everywhere. The laugh you thought you would get to listen to for forever, is now a stranger. 

You would find yourself still imagining things with him after the end of everything. You’d think of him in the stupidest things. You’d think of him while in the shower, how it’d be nice to have your things with his sitting along the edge of the tub. You would even imagine running out of soap so you would end up using his. You would go to work and the store wearing it. Only when in the night, when you would lay next to him in bed, would you smell where all your missing soap had gone. 

It was those stupid little things that made the healing process so much harder. 

He forgot you overnight. Meanwhile you lost your head and appetite. You ate a lot like a fly. Your anxiety had also gotten worse, making your heart race every second of the day. You thought of giving up everything. It was a dramatic thing to consider considering you couldn’t even classify what happened as a breakup, as he was never yours. 

After some time, the tears stopped. The heartbreak didn’t, but you were able to continue with your life and get through some days. Every so often, you still check on him through social media, just to make sure he’s okay. Of course, that came back to bite you in the ass when you found out he was talking to someone. 

The day you found it, your heart dropped and it felt like that Thursday all over again. All that healing had gone out the window because now everything feels like a lie. Was he making fun of you with some esoteric joke? 

He said he wasn’t ready for a relationship, that he couldn’t maintain any relationship. He said he cared about you. You believed it. You were stupid to believe it. A fool for thinking any of it was real. The house, the songs, every little thing was a lie. All you ever thought about was there the hell he was and if he was okay but he didn’t give two shits about you. There was never a you and him. And there never would be. 

You go back and forth between being angry and sad. You can’t tell if you’re making everything up in your head whether it was your relationship with him or the events after. 

Every page you wrote, he was on it. Every word you wish you could say to him. 

After letting you sulk for a few months, your friends dragged you out of the house so you could all go to a club and just have fun. There was no pressure to meet someone or walk away with someone. They said that all you owed them was to show up and have fun. So you went. 

The night was beautiful at first. After pregaming a bit, you ordered yourself a drink at the club and just let loose with your girls. Dancing the night away and not caring about tomorrow. All that mattered was right now. 

You could feel arms moving around you, your heart beating to the music, the alcohol working its magic through your system. You were glad to be there with your favorite people, when everything felt like it was falling away, you still had them. 

It was truly an amazing night until there were whispers spread across the room. Lando was there, with his new girl. The two walked hand in hand towards the back corner of the club with their group. 

What the fuck was he doing here? He could be anywhere in the world, why is he here? 

You didn’t know what to do. For the longest time, you’d imagined what you would do if you were to be in the same room as him again. You composed a hundred ways to tell him the reasons why you could’ve played for keeps, all of which would sit collecting dust, rotting in your house. 

You watched as they settled into the rhythm of the club, when Lando looked straight at you. He looked different. He looked lighter. 

Your friends caught this moment and immediately grabbed you and tried to get you to ignore them. They wanted you to show Lando that you’re better off without him, that you’re okay. So you tried. You tried to keep dancing, to keep your heavy feet moving, to act as if your heart wasn’t being dragged through you. 

You needed a minute. Telling one of your friends you were going to the restroom, you pushed through the crowd. Squeezing through a mess of entangled, sweaty bodies. You kept pushing until you found yourself on a balcony, trying to catch your breath. You moved to a more secluded spot so you could try and recuperate. 

Resting your arms on the railings, you lowered your head to try and figure out what to do. Did you want to confront him, ask for closure? Or did you just want to let it go and try to be free? 

You were caught up in your head when you heard someone clearing their throat somewhere behind you. Looking up, you were met with those hazel green eyes that you had fallen for all those months ago. 

“Hey,” Lando started “didn’t know you were here. Small world, eh?”

“Yeah. Crazy.”

“Come on. Why you being short with me?”

“Nothing. So, uh. Who’s the girl?”

“Oh, yeah. Hannah is my girlfriend. She’s pretty great.”

“Good for you. I’m glad you found someone who can love you the way you deserve. We all need someone to hold and now you found your person.” “Thanks. She helps me a lot and she knows how it feels to be alone in the rain. I guess I just needed someone to stay.” he shrugged, smiling at you. He wasn’t trying to be malicious, he was just happy that he’d found his love.

I stayed. 

“She seems great. I’m happy for you.”

Please, keep me close. 

“Yeah. You’ll find someone too. I’m sure you will.” Couldn’t you love me most?

“Yeah. Sure.”

The two of you stood there for a moment, savoring the silence for different reasons. You knew this was gonna be the end of your story with him. This was going to be the last time you would see him. He thought it was great that everything could remain civil. 

“Well, I gotta go back in.” he said, pointing behind him towards the dance floor, “I’ll see you around. Take care.”

“You too!” you shouted back before he disappeared into the blinking lights and mess of music. 

At the end of the day, you’re hopeless. He found someone better. He found someone to love. Someone to love him. 

So here you sit in the bedroom of your apartment, just missing him and wishing things were different. And you can wish all that you want, but it won’t bring you two together. No matter the things he said or did, you still loved him. 

After all this time, you would still bend back to him if he left the door open. All he had to do was say the words, and you’d play again. But who were you to ask for more? You were just a little chapter in his story while he was more to you. 

If he needed someone, he could’ve picked you. You would’ve given him everything. All he had to do was ask. And you know that can’t solve everything. You just wish he chose you. For once, you wish you had been chosen. You wish he had chosen to love you. You wish he chose you even if it was just to toy with you for longer. 

You still can’t hate him. You honestly wish the best for him. You want him to be happy, even if it means it’s not with you. You want him to have the life he’s dreamed of, with the walls of his house painted blue, red and pink. You hope he gets to go to the city his favorite artist was born in and have a drink at the bar they used to perform at. You hope he’s okay. 

You now know, you’re just not that girl. It was your own fault for not being good enough. She won him, the girl with the gold hair. That’s the girl he chose. So one day, when he walks down the aisle to complete his great love story, you hope he remembers that you’re glad to see him win. You can’t claim to be on the side of love if you can’t even support it in someone you love. It’s not fair to him. 

Your birthday falls on the 29th night of December and you stand in the middle of your kitchen surrounded by your family who say they love you. A birthday cake sits in front of you, coffee flavored, a flavor you never liked. Everyone sings you a happy birthday as you stand there, not letting the tears fall from your face. No one can see the ache in your heart and the way it feels like it’s being dragged down your body. So you just smile. 

You close your eyes to make a wish, but no wish appears as you blow out the candles, just the thought ‘Only three more days left living in a year where you loved me. Only a few more days left in a year where I've allowed myself to love you knowing you don’t’.

Wishing only wounds the heart, after all.

[autisticfaun420]

Autism and Fecal Smearing

I want to get this out of the way first so I'm just gonna say it, I struggle with this awful habit which is called diaper digging and fecal smearing, this post (and blog for that matter) I don't want to shy away from talking about this stuff. So yeah if I have a bowel accident, am frustrated/overstimulated/angry/sad, and am left alone for a few minutes I tend to do this. It's not as bad as before because I have preventative measures in place, like special onesies that make it so I can't remove my diaper myself (ughhh whatever...) and crunchy scented textured slime that my mom will add even more scent to just to make it overwhelming. The average number of episodes has been greatly reduced but I had one a couple weeks ago when my onesies were in the watch so the topic is fresh on my mind.

A lot of caregivers and autism parents are mystified and baffled by this habit and wonder why we do it. I can't speak for everyone, only myself, but to me personally the scent and texture of feces is so overwhelming and strong that I get a "high" from it. I take cannabis edibles daily and my parents let me get drunk once a month so I'll say its very comparable. I get a rush from it. My life can be so monotonous sometimes that smearing crap feels like getting away with a bank robbery, I go from extremely angry to feeling before then to like a happy giddy kid without a care in the world. I zone out so hard that I end up smearing it all over my face, walls, floor, and if it gets in my mouth I'm usually too far gone to care. I do not do it because I'm mad at my parents, I do not do it because I want to get back at them for something, I simply do it because my need for sensory input is so strong and when I'm about to go into a potentially violent meltdown I reach for the sensory nuke when my normal things to stim with just won't cut it. No high is complete without the crash and there's a crash. Seeing my parents and one of my unlucky friends SOOOOOOO unreasonably mad, it's terrifying. My parents got used to it and eventually just shrugged it off but I have heard them lose their cool over it several times and have heard my name and every cuss word in the book the room over where they clean. Not nice of them but I do not blame them one bit but the feeling inside hearing that is very real for me. I guess they got too good at shrugging it off. I had an incident where I smeared in the bathroom of one of my high school friends, very chill guy, look at me and scream at the top of my lungs, and punched a hole in the wall in the living room. I didn't know the painting he had in his bathroom was that rare but I ruined it completely and that's why he reacted that way. He could of done better but I do not blame him one bit. After that though seeing a side of that friend that I never seen before scared me into wearing the stupid onesie suit every day without fuss or a fight when before I would. Not only the suit but I have the replacement slime on me at all times, if I have a BM I tend to just pull it out and play with it. This doubles up as subtly letting my parents know I need a change, which I like cause I don't have to ask verbally which can feel kinda degrading sometimes. There is one good thing that has happened with this though. My hippie parents looked at my turd stained walls and thought I had some latent artistic talent and needed self expression and bought me art and painting supplies. They were misguided, it didn't prevent any incidents but I still took the art well. My therapist at the time had some art connections and the art I made was featured in what's known as an "outsider art" gallery. I sold a few pieces for 300-600 each. It's just a little bit bitter sweet cause if you've seen the King of the Hill episode about the Probots or just know a bit about outsider art in general, you'd know the way they market it is kind of, problematic to say the least. The gallery's artist profile for me made me out to be some kind of idiot dunce and made my parents look like heroic geniuses for spotting this talent or some shit and it's embarrassing that my artwork sold most likely cause of that over the strength of the art. Like oh wow look at this stupid R word who plays with poop his cool parents are soo smart, ughhhh. However I guess that's just the art game and I'm super proud of myself I made a couple thousand dollars of MY OWN money, it meant the world to me to have it. I'm not allowed to post my artwork on here and I wish I could share it with you on MY terms and not the gallery's but my parents are worried it could come back to my identity.

I want to end this post by saying if you engage in fecal smearing you are not stupid, broken, or filthy. You are a human being desperate for relief and you took the fastest way to get it. Shout out to all my autistic homies who smear or have smeared, I see you and you are loved.

[reminiscingtonight]

Guilty

Lia Wälti x Russo!Reader

Word Count: 1.2k

A/N: Tis the season for sequels. Featuring a lot of Kyra and Alessia and not so much of Lia

[The Thing About Families Masterlist]

You should have known better than to trust her. 

There’s a reason Steph’s always more than happy to drop Kyra off on your doorstep whenever camp’s over.

There’s a reason Mini looks like she’s gained five years every time the younger girl has been granted privileges to “babysit” her two kids. 

You have a million reasons to not trust her yet you did. 

Why did you trust Kyra with the ring?

Your knuckles are nearly white as you drag the young girl into a nearby unoccupied conference room. Kyra’s looking apologetically guilty, but a delirious haze is starting to take over you. It’s a mixture of horror and disbelief, but at the bottom of it all, you feel beyond stupid.

“What do you mean you lost it?!”

Kyra looks like she’s moments away from crying, but you can’t find it in yourself to be compassionate. You can console her later. Right now you need to get to the bottom of this and try to salvage your relationship with your girlfriend first. 

“I swear it was stashed at the bottom of my drawer but it just wasn’t there when I looked this morning.”

“Well where did you put it?”

“I never moved it! Someone must have taken it.”

You pinch your eyes shut, praying to whatever soccer gods that are above that this was just a cruel joke. This wasn’t really happening and you weren’t about to postpone all the plans you’ve spent months working on. “Kyra, I am begging you not to do this. What am I supposed to do? The dinner’s been booked! The restaurant knows I’m proposing!”

“We can get you a new one! I’ll front it, I swear.”

Forget Kyra crying, you’re going to cry. 

“Unless you’re willing to shell out five grand in the next few hours, I don’t think ‘buying me a new’ one will work.”

The young Australian’s eyes bulge out at the sound of how much you spent on Lia’s ring. 

It’s not a well kept secret that you were going to propose. You and Lia have been together for years now, married in every way except for the official one. Wedding plans have already been discussed, from venues to food to the invitation list. The last thing you actually had to do was the actual proposing and getting married parts.

Though with the ways things are going, you’re not sure you’re going to get married anytime soon. 

There’s a knock on the door but you ignore it, pacing back and forth as your mind races. There’s not really much you can do at this point. The place you got Lia’s ring custom made at is already closed at this time of day, and your girlfriend deserves something better than a last minute generic engagement ring. 

A flash of blonde enters your peripheral just as you make your decision.

“Okay. I think I’ve got a plan.”

“Oh I’ve been looking for you guys--”

“Now’s not a good time, Less,” you wave your sister off, not even bothering to pay her any attention. “Okay Kyra, listen closely because I won’t repeat myself.”

The younger girl nods, determination painted all over her features. 

“I’ll cancel the reservations. That’ll buy me a couple days.”

“Guys--”

“Less. Not a good time,” You repeat, shuffling to turn your back to her to ensure Alessia can’t interrupt again. “The jeweler still has the plans I sent him. I can probably get Gio and Luca to lend me some money, but you have to find where you stashed that ring, Kyra. It wasn’t cheap.”

“About the ring--”

“Not now Alessia!” This time your and Kyra’s voices blend together, neither of you willing to give Alessia a minute of your days. 

She lets out an offended huff and you have half a mind to just strangle her right here and now, your mother’s feelings be damned. 

Gritting your teeth you turn around, not really happy to have to find out what your sister wants. She has free reign to bother you at any minute of any day but why was she so insistent on doing so right now? “What could possibly be so important, you impatient piece of--”

You cut off suddenly, eyes doubling in size when you look down at her hands. 

There’s a velvet box clutched between her perfectly manicured nails, the tiny thing sitting there like it’s mocking you for losing your temper earlier. 

“That’s my--”

“The ring! But-- but--”

“Where’d you find it?”

“Oh god, Lessi I could kiss you, you just saved my ass--” Kyra breaks off, something clicking in her brain. “Wait, where did you find it?”

There’s a slight pause as you wait for Alessia’s answer. 

“Err… so funny story.” She blows out a breath of air, trying her best to look nonchalant. “I might have been-- actually Kyra hid…” Alessia fidgets, not liking the crease that was growing deeper and deeper between your brows. “IwantedtoprankKyraaftersheprankedmesoItooktheringthelasttimeIvisited.”

She slams her mouth shut the second the words are uttered, but no one says a word. 

An uncomfortable tension settles into the room and Alessia does her best not to wilt to the ground. 

You stare at her.

Kyra stares at her.

Alessia stares at a spot past your faces, nervously shuffling under the weight of your gazes.

There’s no mistaking icy stare or the clenched jaw that proved you caught every word of her fastball confession. 

“You… What?” There’s an edge to your voice, a tone Alessia rarely was at the end of growing up, but one that she recognizes all the same. The order there is clear, but Alessia’s not so sure she wants to repeat herself out of self preservation.

She shrinks, suddenly wishing she wasn’t so tall. “Um. Well. So Kyra hid my earrings the other day, and I, uh, I thought hiding this would be a funny way to prank her back?” Alessia cringes, not liking the way this all sounds now that she’s saying it out loud. “But judging by the looks on your faces, I’m going to say otherwise.”

Your nose flares but that’s the only response she’s given. 

Kyra looks grumpy, probably the result of taking your misplaced anger from earlier. 

You hold out your hand.

No words are exchanged but Alessia is quick to drop the box into your hand. 

Just as quick as she darts forward to do so, she jumps back, shoving her now empty hands into her pockets. 

“See, no hurt no foul, right?”

Crickets. 

That’s all Alessia hears as she nervously chuckles. 

Neither you nor Kyra have moved, faces giving nothing away. 

At least not until you call the Australian’s name calmly, eyes never leaving your sister’s.

Alessia watches as the two of you slowly peel away from each other. Her eyes keep darting between the two of you, feeling more and more like prey that’s being stalked as the seconds tick by. “Guys, c’mon–”

“Remember how I told you to play nice with my only sister?”

Kyra’s frowning. It’s probably supposed to come off frightening but she looks too much like a kicked dog for it to really do too much.

But the look on your face… yeah, that was intimidating enough for the two of you.

“Forget everything I’ve ever said. I don’t have a sister.”

Alessia gulps.

“Get her.”

She bolts.

[jellykyunnie]

˗ˏˋ Pirate King! Jinwoo x Siren! Reader ◛⑅·˚ ༘ ♡ ˎˊ˗

ₓ˚. ୭ ˚○◦˚𝕊𝕦𝕟𝕘 𝕁𝕚𝕟𝕨𝕠𝕠˚◦○˚ ୧ .˚ₓ

・┆✦ Entry : 033 ✦ ┆・

[ TW: Yandere Jinwoo, Violence , all Shadows Mentioned are in Human Form ]

‧₊˚ ☁️⋅ Part 1 || Part 2 ♡𓂃 ࣪ ִֶָ☾.

╰┈➤ ❝ [ I'll Bind Myself To You Over and Over ] ¡! ❞

Jinwoo continued to look for another week, but for some weird reason— The sea was incredibly calm.

Too calm.

It was maiing Jinwoo very restless, and his crew could see it. Igris tried to reason with Bellion and Beru to do something, anything to make their captain stop pacing back and forth on the dock. Even Iron couldn't do anything and would only take over the wheel.

No one in the ship knew what to do, even Tusk's famous fish stew wasn't doing it.

...

"Iron." Jinwoo's strict voice suddenly says as he strides towards the wheel.

The man didn't say much and only moved aside as their captain took over and suddenly spun the wheel rapidly.

"Bring down the sails!" He orders, and everyone suddenly scrambled on their feet to prepare the sails.

They didnt know what was on Jinwoo's mind, but they could tell that determined expression on the man's face was deadly.

"Captain, there's one far ahead on the east!" Kaisel reports.

"Get everyone ready, I want that ship." Jinwoo simply said as he had Kaisel take over. "We wont use the cannons.

There was a hammering feeling inside Jinwoo since early morning, and it was bothering him way too much.

His breathing had been erratic since then, he's never been this anxious even when he faced the holy emperor in the palace and had the old bastard bowing on his feet soon after.

But that's a story for another day.

That's not what's important right now, Jinwoo just knew, he needed that damn ship.

His instincts were never wrong, that's why he was crowned as the pirate king. Jinwoo's gut feeling have never failed him.

And for some reason, the direction of the ship is nagging the living hell out of it.

Jinwoo's grey gaze would land on his men who were utterly confused on why he ordered them not to use the cannons.

"There's something on that ship that I need," He simply said

"An illegal ship, sir?" Bellion asks as he handed Jinwoo his gun.

"Yes." Jinwoo confirms. "Whatever the hell is on that ship, I need it."

There were no further questions asked as the rest of the crew brandished their swords and loaded their guns.

The people on the other ship noticed the mother ship approaching and panicked, blaring the sirens— Warning the rest.

Pure chaos.

But soon, their expressions would pale as a rain of ropes suddenly blasted from the air and hooks embedded themselves on the wooden floors.

Thunderous, proud roars would come from the invading shifts as well as maddened cackles resounds. A bunch of wild pirates would come, climbing the ropes while behind them were gunfire— Preventing the defending parties to take time and prepare as bullets flew by and making men collapse here and there as psychopaths invaded the docks and started stabbing strangers; mauling them into pieces.

"...." Jinwoo's gaze was still steadfast, only firing a few bullets as he walked on the rope hurriedly.

His kids can do whatever the hell he wants, he needed to be somewhere else.

"Secure the ship, get the captain on his knees. If he runs, break his legs" Jinwoo commands, shoving a bloodied sword on Igris's chest as he passed by him.

He didnt even think twice to properly open the door and just shot the handle open, as well as gunning down some baffled crewmates inside the rooms.

Jinwoo continued to walk, his steps heavy and fast with purpose. slamming open some doors, unlocking gates before reaching the very end of the ship.

Blood splatters were on his face now, painting a wicked

Right at the very bottom, inside this giant moss-covered aquarium was a hand peeking on the little glass.

"...." He takes a deep breath, placing his palm against the glass were that small hand peeked.

There, a small light would come out as a warm feeling spread through his chest right where his injuries are.

"There you are, my bride" He whispers, jumping on top of the aquarium and hanging on the ledge as he lunged his arm inside the dirty waters where another palm would grasp his.

Jinwoo pulled the figure up, his other arm wrapping around the other's waist as he kissed the side of their head.

He felt as if that a heavy burden finally lifted off of his shoulders. But as much as Jinwoo wanted to just bask in the moment, he noticed the siren's tail was almost bald in some spots— Lacking tose fluorescent scales and instead a few gashes would come into view and his gaze would harden.

Jinwoo shrugged off his coat and wrapped it around his siren before hoisting them out of the filthy aquarium.

⋅ ˚ ₊ ‧ ଳ ‧ ₊ ˚ ⋅ ⋆ ౨ৎ ˚ ⟡ ˖ ࣪

Up in the docks, the floorboards was pooled with blood as Beru overlooked his crewmates celebrating their small impromptu ship invasion.

He would beam as he hears the door behind him creak and Jinwoo figure would emerge but his mouth would form a thin line as he sees the glare on Jinwoo's face.

Beru swears, that maybe he saw purple in that hardened gaze.

He knew that look so well, it was the type of face Jinwoo made when he rescued his sister from the clutches of the holy family.

Jinwoo is out for blood.

"A siren..." Igris whispers as he sees the humanoid in Jinwoo's arms wrapped in his coat.

"That captain, the damn bastard" Jinwoo snarls, his tone riddled with venom. "I want him in the dungeon. Have Iron prepare my equipment and station him there until I come there."

He then continues, "Igris, Tusk, with me. Bellion will take over from here and Kaisel will watch the ship."

⋅ ˚ ₊ ‧ ଳ ‧ ₊ ˚ ⋅ ⋆ ౨ৎ ˚ ⟡ ˖ ࣪

You didnt know what really happened, you were just resting on a rock after hunting for the whole day when there was a sharp pain on the back of your head. The next thing you knew, you were strapped on a bed with your delicate scales being plucked out forcefully as the humans laughed at your display of pain.

Your shrieks would be ignored as they wore something over their ears while cotinuing to take one scale after another.

The torture was long, you couldn't even count how many have passed as you were in and out of conciousness the whole time.

The humans who captured you didnt even have the heart to give you a proper meal and only tossed some bland seaweed to the poorly kept tank.

You swore, you were about to die— Until a familiar warm hand grasped yours and yanked you out of the dirty waters. Your eyes had been too heavy for you to open, and neither could you make out the sounds around you.

All you knew— Was that you are safe and sound.

The next time you opened your eyes, you are cuddled up in this soft... White things hugging your body, as well as a pair of grey eyes gazing into you.

Initially, you freaked out, thrashing about but the man gently held your shoulders to keep you steady.

"Hey, hey, ssh, it's okay," His voice would register, and your gaze would look up to see him. "Look at me, look at me, do you know who I am? Hmm?"

You can understand him.

Alarmed and curious, you reach your hand out to touch his cheek, and the man only responds by nuzzling your palm and kissing it.

A familiar gesture, a gesture a small human boy did when you were younger.

Jinwoo.

"Remember me?" Jinwoo asks again, and you nod your head.

He lets out a relieved sigh and pulls you in for an embrace.

"I've been looking all over for you, my bride" He whispers so tenderly, kissing your cheek while rubbing your back. "Look at you, my siren, you're so pretty now. But they hurt you so bad, hmm? I'm sorry, I should've come earlier, love. I really am, but it's okay, you're okay. I'm here. I wont leave, I promise."

His gentle voice stirs something in your chest, and you could only respond by nuzzling him further while making soft broken sounds.

"Ssh," Jinwoo hushes you, rubbing your head. "Tusk said that you'll need more rest, sirens heal slower than humans. But since you're bonded to me, it should speed things up"

He pulls back, fixing your hair as you looked down and saw a blanket on top of you, but underneath wasnt a tail.

"It's legs," He chuckles, kissing your cheek. "It must be because you're near me, but don't worry, we can get your tail back. We just... erm... Need to figure it out. We'll do that once you're better, yeah?"

He cooes, peppering your face with more pecks that brought out a giggle in your lips. Jinwoo takes your hand, placing it on his chest where the mark was.

"Go to sleep now, I'll be here in the morning and the day after. Even in the following days" He whispers, gently tucking you back in as he did. "Don't worry about anything else, clear your mind."

⋅ ˚ ₊ ‧ ଳ ‧ ₊ ˚ ⋅ ⋆ ౨ৎ ˚ ⟡ ˖ ࣪

"Captain, the hostage is awake" Kaisel knocks on the door gently. "Your equipment has also been brandished."

"Good," Jinwoo hums, running his hand on your hair before getting up. "Watch over my siren. Should the pretty thing wake up while I'm in the dungeon, call me immediately."

He continues, "After this, I'll host a party for all of you."

Kaisel simply nods, smiling as he watches the captain got out of the quarters.

His gaze would turn cold in an instant, Jinwoo marched down to the dungeon area of the ship with his fists tightly closed.

That bastard dared to actually hurt you, your injuries were so extensive that your tail was almost grey from the abuse. When it turned into legs— Anyone would have vomit at the sight of cuts and peeled skin. It took so much willpower for Jinwoo not to have broke down as Igris, Tusk and Beru worked together in patching your injuries.

"I wonder what kind of scalpel you used" Jinwoo hums, running his hand along the neatly arranged set of daggers on the table as Iron dragged the bastard on the floor in front of his captain. "Scalpels are too delicate, making them very useless on the field."

He then picks up pliers, making the man squirm and sob on his gag as he attempts to crawl away but Iron kept him steady.

"Easy there, buddy" Jinwoo chuckles, his grey orbs turning into monarch purple. "I haven't even started yet,"

He then sits down on the chair prepared for him.

"For every scale you plucked out of my bride's tail, for every single day you kept that pretty doll captive, for every second you spent making them writhe in pain— I will make sure you experience all of it tenfold if not a hundred."

꒰ A/N: Mentally so exhausted I think I'm on writer's block wheeze. I should write for another character for the meantime until I get my creative juices on Jinwoo back. Tysm to you @sylusjinwoon for this request uueeeee. I hope u like it bestie<33!!! Anyway, next fic is either gonna be a Baek Dohwa Fic or a Dr. Zayne fic. ꒱

ʚ(੭´͈ ᐜ `͈)੭ .｡✧･ﾟ: ~♡ —! stories written by kyunnie; translations, reposts, plagiarism are strictly forbidden.

[grahstumhurts]

𝙏𝙝𝙚 𝙨𝙩𝙖𝙧𝙨 𝙖𝙡𝙞𝙜𝙣𝙚𝙙 𝙛𝙤𝙧 𝙪𝙨

Synopsis- Y/n had always had a crush on Sophia. this being Y/n's senior year, she had to make it count. Sophia, a untouchable goddess, in Y/ns eyes. Will it happen?

A/N - YES I KNOW ITS A CHEESY TITLE AND FIC, ITS MY FIRST TIME WRITING FOR TUMBLR OKAY. SUE ME IF I WANTED SOME CHEESY ROMANTIC SOPHIA CONTENT. This was not proof read so yeah

 Lara always complains about how I stare at her in the halls when she passes by with her flock. “Dude, its honestly sad how much time you spend a day staring at her and or thinking about her, when in all brutal truth, she probably doesn't give you a single thought.” Lara sighs, rubbing her forehead in frustration as she watches me get out my books for my AP biology class. “Its not that bad, okay. Trust me i've been worse.” I try defending myself, “Listen, Y/N At this point you might as well confess since it's almost the end of the year. Whats the worst that could happen? You get embarrassed, yes, But you won't ever see her again until the highschool reunion.” Lara tries to convince me for the Nth time this year. Senior year was supposed to be the year where I let loose. By the time senior spring had come and college applications were through, there had been one thing I had yet to do. I’ve known her for years. I mean everyone knows her at our school. She's everyone's dream girl, Untouchable you could say. Sophia Laforteza. I sigh, almost giving in this time, “No, I won't do it. Like i've said multiple times, she's an untouchable painting that, Good lord, I want to touch so bad” I close my locker, leaning against it, facing towards Lara. She gives me an unimpressed look. “You have AP Bio with her next right? So why not ask her to study sometime? I mean you are basically failing that class,girl.” I pause, I consider it, My brain algorithm approves. The bell rings for the next period. “why are you actually kinda smart, Lara.” I walk past her “Hey, woah what do you mean kinda, I legit just gave you the best idea ever” she yells at my passing figure as i jog off to mr bennetts classroom. “For the sake of my mental health I pray to Beyonce that this works.” Lara mumbles under her breath as she walks off to her class. 

Now you would think that the universe would be on my side. And you would be right. The stars have aligned as Lara would say, God forbid that girl ever not talk about stars and astrology the moment the conversation dies down. “Alright class, today i'm announcing your semester-long project for this class. This project will be starting today and will be ending by the end of the semester, so right around April we will present. Now this is a partner project” The class groans in disbelief, “Settle down. Now, I will be picking the partners-” The class erupts in boisterous anger at Mr bennett. “Calm down, Jesus, I'm retiring after this year. This project is going to be about whatever you want it to be. as long as it relates to biology.” He opens his laptop. “Now the partners will be…” he pauses reading the screen “Chloe and Marquise, Nickolas and Wendy, Y/N and Sophia” I note down these partnerships in my head just for reference, Wait. Are you fucking kidding me, its me and sophia? Now in hindsight you would think that maybe this is a class prank on me. I swear to fucking god i was about ready to explode, yean no not that kind of explode, the one where im the most anxious person on the god damn planet that we call fucking earth. Out of the 24 students in this class, other than me, there is a one in fucking 24 chance that i would be placed with her. Which i find is fucking ridiculous. “And thats it for partners, now if you could start planning your projects that would be great” Everyone shuffles around the room, trying to find their partner. I scramble to pick up my things when I drop my pencil case. I notice a manicured hand pick it up, i connect the hand to the arm, the arm to the body. Like the gorgeous goddess she is, she hands me my pencil case, Stupid fucking fish pencil case. “I like your pencil case, its pretty creative and unique” She comments, placing the fish on the table “thanks, my grandma got it for me so i've just been using it ever since.” I laugh uncomfortably. “What do you wanna do the project on?” I meekly ask her, I avoid all eye contact possible. She ponders for a moment, “I've always been kinda interested in how the weather contributes to moods, would that be something your okay with doing?”  “imokaywithdoingwhateveryouwant” I spit out, at possibly the pace of a marathon runner. She laughs to herself at my reaction “you're cute.” She mumbles. “Are you free this week to start the project or…” She drags off the end of the word to insinuate for me to answer, “i'm good for this week, maybe tomorrow? After school” “We can go over to your house? My siblings can be quite loud so i dont think that’ll be the best “study spot”” She physically puts those two words in quotations. Which wakes me up to the reality that i will be spending the rest of the semester with her, creating a project. “Sure, Im down.” I say a little too excited, I clear my throat. “Cool, cant wait” she says casually as she walks off to her desk to pack up. 

The first week went surprisingly well. I actually kept my cool and had a normal conversation with her. As the weeks grow, my feelings never really cut off for her. Instead, like a tumour, it grows. And so does my guilt. The project builds up a good amount of research, by the time its almost the end of the semester, March to be exact. The guilt, it flourishes inside me like a mouldy banana in the bottom of your bag. For all I know she could be straight. 

I hear the doorbell ring, I know its her. My mom answers the door, as per usual. lets her in, then she comes up the stairs and up to my room where the door is already open for her to come in. “Hey” she greets me “almost the end huh? I bought some snacks on the way here, I remember last week you mentioned sour skittles to me so I figured I could try them with you.” “you remembered?” “Yeah, why wouldn't i? We are friends right? I mean with all the time we have spent on this project, i assumed we are friends” she looks confused, almost hurt? “Are we not friends” “we are, yeah” I flusteredly responded, panicking at the seemingly wounded look. She cracks a smile “i'm just messing with you,” she knocks my shoulder against hers as she sits down on my bed. “I think there's a storm coming soon actually” she says opening the shopping bag with the seemingly endless amount of snacks in it. “Kinda ironic don't you think?” I say to her, We get to work for the next couple of hours, sprinkling in some goofy moments between the two of us. She ends up having to stay over, The storm inhibiting her ability to go home. I look out the window, the rain looks as if it will never end. “You ever danced in the rain?” She sits next to me, resting her head on my shoulder, observing the perspiration. “I did it once with an ex boyfriend of mine,” she adds to her previous comment. For some reason that last bit stung a little, like a scratch from a cat. “You had a boyfriend?” I ask genuinely curious. “I ended things with him since I figured out that i liked girls” “oh, i didnt know you liked girls.” I looked at her, Her hazel eyes looking back. “Do you like girls?” she questioned me. “Yeah, always have” I answered meekly. An idea came to me when she looked back out the window, I stood up. “Lets go out into the rain” I drag her closely behind me as we walk out the front door to my house, running out into the wet sky. I laugh at her standing confused in the doorway. “Dude come on” I actively try to convince her “you were the one that started talking about dancing in the rain” I open my mouth and let the almost salty droplets hit my tongue. “Eugh, dude, dont you know how disgusting rain water is” She runs out into the rain, fully embracing the uncomfortable wetness covering her body. I curtsy to her “Mi’ Lady would you care for a dance?” I say in a faux british accent. She giggles “Of course Mi’ Lady, a dance would be appreciated.” I bring her in, her waist in one hand and her own hand in the other. “Is this okay?” I yell over the sound of the water droplets hitting the ground. She nods, resting her head on my shoulder as we sway in the middle of the driveway. She looks up at me, searching my face for something. Looking down at my lips, then my eyes, then back at my lips again. “What?” I asked her “do i have something on my face?” She cups my cheeks, her warm thumb stroking my cheekbones. Before I can say another thing, she leans in, and kisses me. The Ivy that is guilt covering my heart slowly withers away, her hands leave my cheeks and caress the hair on the back of my neck. I pull her in closer, wrapping my arms around her body. A lightning crack makes us pull apart. “You seriously dont know how long ive been dreaming of this happening” I tuck my face into her soaking collar, she kisses my forehead. “How long?” she giggles, “1st grade, When i first moved here. And it trailed all the way here.” “damn i wasn't expecting that.” I blush. “Do you wanna be my girlfriend?” I call out over the rain. “Of course dumbass” She leans back in, coating my whole body in a warm honey feeling, The stars aligned for us to be.

[mariacallous]

“Hello? Are you a male or female in there?” a rumbling voice called into the women’s restroom. A man’s boots stepped across the threshold, clunking on the tile floor, as I sat alone in the stall closest to the door.

I stopped breathing and my heart skipped. My pants were down around my ankles, and no one else was within earshot.

My hands went to where my freshly shorn curls used to be — fingers twining into my 2 remaining inches of hair — and I wondered if I had made a mistake. I had been using women’s restrooms my entire life, from when I had long braided pigtails and my mom taught me to lay down two layers of toilet paper on the seat, to my road trip around California as a white, skinny, short, nonbinary person in my early 30s.

***

My partner and I were on an adventure. We had sublet our apartment and were camping in a van for the summer. We slept every night on a memory foam mattress in the van and cooked most of our meals outdoors on a propane stove. Immersed in nature, at a distance from society and community, I could recognize my true self more clearly, and I took the opportunity to explore a more masculine appearance.

I don’t have much experience with people thinking I might be a man. Growing up, people always assumed I was a girl. I still can’t cut my hair without shame, hearing women’s voices in my head: “Oh, but your hair is so lovely, you should keep it long.” It’s as if I hurt my community every time I do it.

Despite the shame, I had cut my hair earlier that week, camped alongside a beautiful, remote river. I trimmed a couple of inches off to give myself the 2-inch-long “men’s” cut I usually give my partner. He is supportive of whatever hair length I want for myself. I squinted into a little travel mirror and lopped off chunks, feeling bits of hair drift down my bare shoulders. Finished with the trim, I dove into the brown river water and scrubbed my scalp with my fingers. I floated in the sun, naked and unjudged by the birds watching me from the trees.

I didn’t feel judged for my haircut until we traveled back into town. While I was washing my face at the sink in a restroom, someone peeked in and then left. I put my glasses back on and walked out. A woman with long hair was standing outside, uncertain, wearing a long skirt. As she turned to face me, I said hello.

“Is this the women’s room?” she asked.

“Yes,” I answered curtly, forced a smile, and walked away quickly, past the word “Women” in 6-inch green painted letters on the wooden wall of the building.

I guess I had been gendered as too-butch-to-be-in-the-women’s-room. Affirming? Slightly. But it was a preview to an unsolvable problem. If I’m not supposed to be in the women’s room, but I also can’t use the men’s, how can I use the bathroom?

***

My partner and I found a lovely city park with a picnic area and gazebo to eat breakfast in after camping on National Forest land nearby. After a mug of coffee, I visited the public restroom. I didn’t expect a stranger to yell at me through the flimsy stall door.

“Hello? Are you a male or female?”

I was the only person using the restroom — the kids who had been in there a minute ago had left. I felt this man’s eyes on my sneakers and blue hiking pants under the stall. I was scared this harassment could escalate if I didn’t say something to diffuse the situation. I gulped and called back, “Hello?”

“Oh, you’re a female. My bad.” He sounded reassured by my quavering voice. I heard his footsteps leaving the room. My heart raced as I fumbled with toilet paper, fingers shaking. I felt nauseated.

My voice had immediately identified me as the “female” I didn’t feel myself to be — and all it took was two syllables. But my “female” voice had also saved me from further harassment. Would that man have dragged me out of the stall if I sounded “like a man” or remained quiet? Would he have looked under the stall? Would he have tried to check what was between my legs while my pants were down? Did he have any idea how much of a violation these real and imagined threats were to me?

And why was a man even in the women’s room, questioning me? Did a kid’s mother report me to her husband for looking too much like a man in the women’s room? Perhaps they were alarmed that I, with my short hair, had been in the restroom with their young kids. I felt physically ill at the troubling thought that someone would assume I would do anything harmful to children. I hadn’t said anything, made eye contact with anyone or done anything other than sit quietly in the stall in the room that matches my assigned sex at birth.

I felt bad for looking masculine to make myself more comfortable, because I didn’t want to make anyone else uncomfortable. Some part of me longed to return to my habit of looking more like a woman, but I also felt sick from not feeling right in my body.

I can empathize with these strangers viewing me and my body as a threat because I have also viewed my body as a threat. I have been unhappy with the shape of my body, my appearance in the mirror and the tone of my voice. And to have that thrown back in my face in such a vulnerable moment — pants down, defenseless, forced by my body’s very personal needs to be in this gendered room — hit close to home.

It did not occur to me to call the police, because the last thing I needed was to wait around for law enforcement to judge my qualifications to use a bathroom and give a police report about someone I hadn’t actually seen. Instead, I texted a friend — a woman with short hair — to tell her my story of being harassed in the bathroom and share how uncomfortable that made me. She responded that women have screamed after seeing her in the restroom, and she’d had security called on her. My experience seemed mild by comparison. I appreciated her perspective.

For the next several days, I felt intensely conflicted and full of gender dysphoria. I was tense and nervous using public restrooms. I wore my pink hat, forced a big smile and strode in confidently, femininely, trying to look like the kind of woman no one would object to. But I’m not a woman. I came out as a transmasculine, nonbinary person in my late 20s — a person who feels more like a boy than a girl on the inside. A person whose anxiety and depression eased once I no longer had to hide who I am.

I have to choose between a women’s or men’s restroom in most public spaces, as unisex bathrooms are uncommon. Laws restricting bathroom access, which are becoming more prevalent in the United States, attempt to define sex based on whether an individual can produce eggs or sperm. In practice, people look at your body shape, clothes and hair and make an assumption about which restroom you should use. Most people assume I would use the women’s room, so that’s what I continue to use. Trans women often have harder choices. Anyone who pushes back on my use of the women’s room suspects that I am a trans woman. They correctly identify me as trans, but in the incorrect direction.

Trans women are the target of these “bathroom bills” and may encounter harassment and violence in either restroom. Being legally required to use the “wrong” restroom can out people as trans, which can be dangerous for them.

Trans women may need to go more frequently on average. One of the most common testosterone blockers, spironolactone, is a diuretic which means you need to pee often while taking it. The constant stress of navigating public spaces as a trans person with a filling bladder is incredibly — literally — painful.

A couple of weeks later, my partner and I returned to the same city park. After relaxing at the picnic tables, I walked over to the bathroom. A new porcelain toilet sat whimsically outside the building, prepped for installation. Uh oh, I thought, rounding the corner to see a plumber with a pickup truck. A “closed for cleaning” sign was braced across the door of the women’s restroom.

The plumber, burly, with a beard, glanced at me and asked, “You need to use the restroom?” gesturing to the men’s door. I nodded, but looked back to peer past the closed sign into the women’s room.

“Oh, you want to use that one?” he asked, squinting at me. It was a cold morning. I was bundled up in a knit cap and two layered jackets. Looking at me, the plumber honestly seemed to think I was heading for the men’s. I shrugged and took what I hoped was a few casual steps toward the men’s room.

“Use the toilet in the last stall,” he prompted me. Perhaps the other plumbing hadn’t been hooked up yet.

“All right, thanks,” I said, pitching my voice down, trying to sound like I’d meant to go in the men’s room all along.

I used the toilet in the empty men’s room to pee, washed my hands, walked out, nodded to the plumber and walked off. I felt rattled but also surprisingly comfortable. Someone had told me that I could use that bathroom, that stall, and I felt validated in doing the right thing. It was the opposite of being questioned for being in the women’s room. I hadn’t made anyone else uncomfortable by existing. Was that a success? Is not making anyone uncomfortable except myself a healthy baseline?

***

Although that experience felt validating, using the “wrong” bathroom can have very real consequences. In California, I didn’t face legal consequences for using a men’s bathroom. If I had instead been in Florida and refused to leave the men’s bathroom if asked, I could have been charged with criminal trespass, likely a first-degree misdemeanor, which carries a prison term of up to one year or a $1,000 fine.

Proponents of “bathroom bills” claim they protect children from predators, but assaulting children in restrooms (or anywhere else) is already illegal. A bathroom law doesn’t physically prevent male abusers already willing to break the law from stepping into women’s spaces. However, these laws can prevent trans women from comfortably and legally using any public bathroom, including restrooms in their workplace.

U.S. Rep. Nancy Mace introduced the Protecting Women’s Private Spaces Act in November 2024. If enacted, this law would prohibit transgender individuals from using restrooms that align with their gender identity on federal property, specifically targeting U.S. Rep. Sarah McBride, the first openly transgender member of Congress, who would no longer be allowed to use the women’s bathroom at her workplace in the Capitol.

I am lucky I don’t work in a place where I can’t use the bathroom, but navigating my gender identity is still a constant struggle — not solely with myself, but with everyone I interact with. I have to justify my gender expression to strangers and negotiate with them, whether or not our interactions are negative or positive. So why do I subject myself to this frustration? Because it would hurt more to hide myself every moment of every day.

Finding more authentic ways to express myself feels like a weight that I wasn’t aware of has been lifted off my chest, and suddenly, I can breathe deeply, newly grounded in the reality of my body. Swimming in the river after I cut my hair, I felt distantly afraid but excited about what was to come. I felt grateful I took this step toward my true self.

[matchadobo]

I absolutely love how you write kidd sm!!! Can i request a scenario where kid and killer are cuddling with us? Appreciate it ^_^

KIDD & KILLER; cuddles

wc: 1453

warning/s: very sfw <3, gn reader

it happened one evening when it was awfully cold. the victoria had no choice to be docked by a wintry island given the exhaustion of supplies. you couldn't sleep because of the weather and the warmth of your skimpy blanket and sheer sheets were not enough to keep you warm.

the clock had already struck midnight and you felt restless. so you pulled yourself up from your bunk and dawdled at the kitchen, shivering. you intend to make yourself something hot, maybe reheat some soup or make tea.

stirring up some leftover soup from dinner on the stove, the heat of the forming smoke soothed you. you felt a rush of weariness in your system at the contact of warmth; you really are sleepy, it's just too cold. so it led to you almost falling asleep standing. if it weren't for kidd turning off the stove as his arm snaked beside you.

"is it that cold you'd wanna burn yourself?" kidd cleared his throat, reaching for a bowl from the cupboard above your head and placing it by the counter beside the stove. "it's done. if you plan on not burning the damn soup that is."

"sorry. why are you still awake?" you rubbed your eyes, pouring the soup on the bowl.

"could ask ya the same thing," he replied. kidd was garbed with his thick fur coat blanketing his huge frame. "smelled somethin' good 's why."

"i'm... it's too cold. i assumed this'll warm me up." you carried your bowl and sat by the chair surrounding the dining table. kidd was heating up a drink, probably some milk.

you started sipping on the soup before kidd stood beside the seat across from you, chugging on some milk. "that ain't enough to keep you warm."

"either i sleep somewhere warmer or eat something warm to keep myself from freezing to death. got no choice here, captain." you shrugged as you continue to fill your system with the warm soup.

"that ain't gonna cut it. don't want my crew members gettin' sick or some shit." he placed his empty glass down and leaned forward.

"what do you suggest me do then?" you answered a bit harshly this time, the weariness was driving you crazy and irritated.

"sleep with me. got a fireplace." he eyed you intently, his gaze inviting you into something that drove you even crazier than the momentary slips of his coat where his chiseled torso peaks.

"w-what?"

"you heard me. unless you wanna freeze your ass up, be my guest." he picked up his glass and placed it in the sink. "no time gettin' shy now. hurry up before i change my mind."

as the only shot of getting a shred of comfort, you took upon his offer after finishing your soup.

it isn't your first time being in his quarters, he invites you here all the time. to drink or do whatever you two do.

it smelled like the same metallic cologne he always wear, it was his usual dimly lit room painted in his favorites of red and black, his sizable bed was placed by the center of his room where his gargantuan frame would be perfect for, and the already lit fireplace that settled by the corner of his room.

you hummed a moan of relief upon entering, it already feels warm and its scent was comforting. the crackling of the fire can be heard even from the doorway. you sat before the fireplace, on his soft, raven bear rug. you hugged your knees and rubbed your hands haphazardly. shivering from the cold outside.

"the hell are you doing down there? bed's got a lotta space. " kidd shimmied from the middle to the side of the bed to make space for you. his fur coat was finally off and his body was full on display.

you looked behind you with cautious eyes. "if you try anything, eustass. i swear to god." you picked yourself up from the floor and dusted off your bottom.

"hey, i ain't the one needin' the damn fire." he raised his hands in surrender. "let's just wait and see who'll snuggle up for warmth as the night gets colder." his voice was coated with a cocky tone as your bodies finally touch.

he was really warm. aside from the fire in his room, his body temperature due to his large size was significantly higher than yours. he was the perfect, huggable body warmer.

little by little, your arms linked and your legs intertwined. it didn't take long for you to get tangled on his limbs and approach slumber.

until the door cracked ajar to reveal killer, who was embarrassed to have walked in. he raised his hands in defense and cleared his throat.

"sorry, didn't mean to barge in you two. just checking on you, kidd." killer started, trying to maintain a professional front even in your sleepy state. "it's awfully cold so... but it seems you're holding up well."

"what took ya so long, kil? been waitin' since an hour ago." kidd let go of you gently to face his best friend and to be able to talk clearly with him, a little to gentle for a pirate such as himself. you weren't used to it, not that you didn't like it.

"got ready for bed. dry off my hair and such." you could hear the chuckle behind the muffle of his helmet despite your back facing him. "y'all got room for one more or am i interrupting?"

"don't think shortcake over here has protests. matter of fact, they could use another source of warmth. poor thing's been shiverin', ain't ya?" his voice was soft against your skin, breath warm on your arm. kidd's loose arm held onto you closer but not firm enough to jolt you awake. he looked over his shoulder ar your sleepy state, admiring how peaceful you look as you drift off to sleep.

the door shut behind killer and he shortly crawled into kidd's bed. surprisingly enough, it fit these two big guys and even you in it just fine. there's even more space left.

as they cocooned you in between, snores started emanating from your slightly ajar lips. it wasn't long until you were deep in sleep and they started becoming drowsy too.

maybe it was the smell of your hair or the sight of your face. or the needy grip on their strong arms as you refuse to let go of them even in your sleep that helped them rest in this cold night. their guard was completely down and they relish on the warmth of one another.

shortly after, morning came.

"guys...! kil...! kidd...! i need to pee." you tried wiggling out of their strong grip, but their echoing snores were proof enough that they won't budge.

but killer was the first one to wake up and hear your protests. he moved over and even helped you escape kidd's grip who was still deep in sleep.

killer waited for you by sitting at the edge of the bed so you can crawl back without any struggle. he had his eyes shut and his luscious, blond hair disheveled. a clear sign of his sound slumber yet he still managed to sit up and wait for you so you won't have a hard time.

"thanks, kil. would've peed myself on the bed if it weren't for you." you laughed a little, nudging the blond. he waved his hand a bit and smiled at you as a response, although his eyes were half-lidded so you decided to hurry up and crawl back to where you were so you two could go back to sleep. it's still pretty early.

kidd was now in a starfish position, you ought to lay on his arm and snuggle close to him to make space for killer who later had a firm embrace on you.

"did you sleep well?" killer broke out, his low, hoarse voice tickling your ear.

you nodded and smiled, "i hope i wasn't much of a bother here."

"ah don't say that. it's not everyday you get to have cuddles like this." killer responded with a chuckle, his thumb rubbing circles on your skin.

"yeah, maybe we can change that. let's make it an everyday thing, hm?" you looked over to see killer's expression and giggled at how he blushed and hid his face under his hair.

and a comfortable silence blanketed the air of kidd's quarters. but for now, the three of you slept soundly in the four corners of this dimly lit room. the fire was already long dead, but the embers of the unsaid longings still remain strong amidst the warmth of your arms.

part 2 🔞 is fem reader coded (still welcome for whoever wants to read 🥰)

hello anon!! 🌷thanks for the kid & killer request i'm starting to enjoy writing for poly now whahahaha hope i did your request justice!

that was a long ass absence again huh ASJDAHDHDASJ very sorry a lot happened,a lot of personal stuff just came crashing in (ahem graduation ahem college next) and just when you thought it could get any worse i got fucking sick!! ain't that fun! but i'm recovering now and i hope it doesn't get worse

[lovely-parasite-04]

Iced Coffee, Detective?

Agnes!Agatha Harkness x Fem!Reader

Prologue

Part 1

SUMMARY: Y/N makes it to Agatha's house expecting an hour or two of entertainment and instead finds herself in more "trouble" than she prepared for.

WARNINGS: Mention of a gun, Agatha being Agatha

NOTE: This was a long time coming, lol. I got a lot more interaction than expected, and I was so excited! However, for the longest time I didn't know where to take my little blurb and had this part halfway finished just collecting dust. I also was feeling partially guilty for picking this back up when I have scholarship essays to write but heehee oh well that will happen when it happens. ANYWAY I hope you enjoy and if you have thoughts, feel free to share :)

Walking through the neighborhood to get to Agatha's house, I made it a point to avoid looking at the plot of land Wanda Maximoff had decided to take over during her time here. There was no longer a house there, and the concrete foundation that was left had graffiti all over it. I think it's the first of anything I have seen vandalized in Westview. Despite the words overlapping and being hastily spray painted onto the small structure, I didn't need to know what it was all about; there was nothing nice written in all that mess about the Scarlet Witch or her actions in Westview.

Agatha's lovely house was to the right.

  It was a very cozy house on the outside, with beautifully green bushes almost blocking the front windows and what looked like the outside of a bay window to the left of the door. Overall the property looked shockingly plain to hold someone so...not plain. Who knows what I would find on the inside.

  What was I even doing here, anyway? I don't have to be here. There was absolutely no obligation to follow through with Agatha's summoning. She would have forgotten about it soon enough. But now I'm in front of her door after my shift to...what? To be questioned about someone - who I'm certain is imaginary - I lied about knowing? To entertain Agatha and then in turn myself? To maybe get a little insight on this curse of hers? To see her play "bad cop" with no "good cop" to save me?

  Jesus, just knock on the door.

  I raised my hand, shaking my loud-ass thoughts away and deciding to wing it. Suddenly the door swings open and I almost "assault an officer." Agatha catches my fist before it lands in her face, "Woah! Watch out there, kid." Her hair was still up but a little rattier like she'd just been napping - if her clothes were anything to go by. A Star Trek T-shirt that's two sizes two big, velvet sweatpants, and purple fuzzy socks.

  I couldn't help a giggle escape me and I blurted out, "Did you just wake up?"

  "You were supposed to call before you came in. I could have been out following a lead, or in a meeting."

  "Oh, lucky timing I guess." Right. Stick to the script. Even if you don't have a copy of said "script" for yourself. This would be an actor's worst nightmare.

  I have to clear my throat to remind her she's still got my wrist held above my head, and then I swallow at the thought.

  "Seriously though, the door is glass. You didn't need to knock." She drops my wrist and immediately turns on her heel into her house - I swear I see her start to yawn, but then maybe being under the spell is exhausting. I know after the town was liberated, I stayed in my bed for days just recovering. The door was definitely not glass, so she must have heard me pull into her driveway and watched me through the window. At least now I have a little clue to what she thinks her "prescient" looks like. An office with a glass door. Neat.

  I mentally smack myself knowing now that she watched me stare at her door for so long. I can't be embarrassed for too long though, because entering Agatha's house was like entering a new world - and not one I expected. The dark wood and light green walls gave an earthy cozy feel to the living room and the sofa looked old and comfy. I catch sight of a wall covered in random pictures of grass and flowers with red yarn connecting them every-which-way. Agatha pulls a funky looking arm chair up to her coffee table, gesturing for me to sit on the sofa. I comply - I was right about the couch - and I notice the head of a garden hose lying on the table in front of me.

  "Sorry," Agatha takes it and puts it into the side of her pants? "There shouldn't be any need for that, right?"

  No way that's what she's using for a gun.

  "Um...no, ma'am."

  "Great. Goooood." She smacks her lips and pulls a Manila folder out of nowhere, switching it between her hands almost to taunt me. Her eyes haven't left me since I arrived. "We'll get to this in a second. First, tell me about how you knew the girl."

  Uh-oh.

  My hands were suddenly damp and I did my best to rub them off on my own pants, looking around as if that'd give me a clue to what my relationship was with this fake victim. Then I remembered the pictures of flowers on the wall. "I-We were gardeners. Together. We gardened together...all the time."

  Agatha's eyes squinted and her lips pursed, "Interesting." That was the worst lying I had ever done, but how could she not believe me? Wouldn't her mind just make something up to go with her narrative anyway? "How did you two meet? Garden club?"

  "Sure."

  "Oh really? And who else was in this club? Probably a bunch of other old ladies."

  "Woah. Rude."

  "Moving on." She suddenly stands and drops the file she had in her hands and I choke on air as she bends over to pick it up. The velvet sweatpants she's wearing have the word "Naughty," bedazzled on the butt. This is definitely entertaining. If someone knocked me out right now and woke me back up to tell me I dreamed all of this, I'd believe them. She whips back around and offers the file to me, "Let's take a look at this file, huh? Sound like fun?"

  Fun. For sure.

  I take the file from her hand, now unable to take the image of her bedazzled ass out of my mind, while she circles the couch and leans over my shoulder. I'm perfectly still as I feel her cheek a hair away from mine. I can smell her shampoo, I think. It's mostly a clean smell with a small floral hint to it.

  Great. Now I'm taking in the notes of her scent. I can't fall for the town hero/cook/ancient witch. What would that make me? The idiot? Definitely some sort of idiot. Then it hits me that she is unfortunately exactly my type: older, brunette, and a little deranged. I'm toast.

  "Go ahead." She whispers in my ear. Dear god. "No need to be scared. There's nothing in there you can't handle."

  Taking a deep breath, mainly to slow down my now rapid heartbeat, I open the file. Inside are some bills addressed to someone named Ralph Bohner - tragic last name - and a couple blank papers. I pretend to take it in but have no idea where to go from here, so I look back at Agatha. Big mistake. Her mouth is now a hair away from my mouth.

  My neck nearly breaks from how far and fast my head shoots back, and I guess Agatha thinks she startled me because she chuckles before standing straight again. "Just as I thought..." What? What does that mean?

She comes around the couch and her hands are shaped into finger-guns with her two index fingers pressed against her lips in a thoughtful manner. Until she's leaning over me, her arms supporting her weight against the back of the couch on either side of my head. Her face is centimeters away from mine. I know I'm blushing but I'm praying to whatever's out there that she can't see the red under that spell of hers. She cranes her neck past my face to be right by my ear again and whispers, "I know it was you."

Huh?!

  "I don't-"

  "Pretty interesting reaction you had to my file there...only a guilty killer would act that way when faced with the cold. Hard. Truth." She yells the last part and I knock my head into her arm trying to lean away from it. Pushing herself back up straight, she looks down her nose at me and gives half a chuckle and god do I have butterflies right now?! "I'm afraid I'm gonna be taking you in now."

  Taking me in? What does that mean for her? What will that mean for me? I've been found guilty? For a crime that doesn't even exist by a cop that's not even a cop. This has gone too far. I need to get out of here. I'll make it out of here and go home and never mess with the town cook again. I can't get tangled in this - what am I meant to do?

  I slowly start to scooch to the edge of the couch with my hands up in surrender. "Aw man, that sucks. Well listen, Ms Harkness - Detective! Sorry, Detective Harkness. I..I have homework that is due tonight and damn look at the time. It's been fun-" Making the most coherent excuses I can think of knowing damn well she's only gonna hear what she wants to, I slowly stand and begin to back away when her own hands shoot up. Before I can do anything at all, red fuzzy handcuffs are around both my wrists. I choke on air while Agatha stands there completely serious. I really hope these are meant to be regular handcuffs and don't belong to her. I don't think I could handle it otherwise.

  "You're not going anywhere, toots."

  Now I'm really toast.

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

[anotherhumaninthisworld]

Pétion being the best, but also the worst compilation

Pétion was big and fat, good-humoured and talkative, but heavy withal. He talked on, Robespierre said not a word, and I took little notice of him, he looked like a cat lapping vinegar. Pétion was rallying him on being so taciturn and farouche, and said they must find him a wife to apprivoiser him: upon which Robespierre opened his mouth for the first and last time with a kind of scream: ”I will never marry!” The Croker Papers: the Correspondence and Diaries of the late right honourable John Wilson Croker… (1885) volume 3, page 209

During the Constituent Assembly, at the time of the revision, I was one day with Buzot's wife, when her husband returned from the Assembly very late, bringing Pétion to dinner. It was the time when the court had them treated as factious, and painted them as intriguers, all occupied in stirring up and agitating. After the meal, Pétion, seated on a large ottoman, began to play with a young hunting dog with the abandonment of a child; they both let go and fell asleep together, snuggled on top of each other: four people conversing did not prevent Pétion from snoring. ”So here we have this rebel,” said Buzot, laughing; ”we were looked askance on leaving the room, and those who accuse us, very agitated for their party, imagine that we are to maneuver!” Mémoires de Madame Roland, volume 2, page 167. ok who am i kidding this one is actually just sweet. but harch in hindsight

I remember that one day, gathered at Pétion's house to find out what would be proposed in the assembly on the return of the king, he was quietly playing his violin, and Brissot became seriously angry at this indifference and this frivolity when it was a question of the fate of the monarchy.  Souvenirs sur Mirabeau et sur les deux premières assemblées législatives (1832) by Étienne Dumont.

Madame Élisabeth stared at me with tender eyes, with that air of languor that misfortune gives and which inspires quite keen interest. Our eyes sometimes met with a kind of intelligence and attraction; the night was closing in, the moon was beginning to shed its soft light. Madame Élisabeth took Madame (Royale) half on her knee, half on mine; her head was supported by my hand, then by hers. Madame fell asleep, I stretched out my arm, Madame Élisabeth stretched hers over mine. Our arms were intertwined, mine touched under her armpit. I felt rushing movements, a heat passing through the clothes; Madame Élisabeth's looks seemed more touching to me. I noticed a certain abandon in her demeanor, her eyes were moist, melancholy mingled with a kind of voluptuousness. I could be wrong, we can easily confuse the sensitivity of misfortune with the sensitivity of pleasure, but I think that if we had been alone, that if, as if by magic, everyone else would have disappeared, she would have let herself go into my arms and would have abandoned herself to the movements of nature. I was so struck by this state that I said to myself: What! Would it be a trick to buy me at this price? Would Madame Élisabeth have agreed to sacrifice her honor to make me lose mine? Yes, at court nothing costs, we are capable of anything; the Queen was able to arrange the plan. And then, considering this air of naturalness, self-love also insinuating to me that I could please her, that she was at that age where passions are felt, I convinced myself, and I found pleasure in it, that strong emotions tormented her, and that she herself desired that we were without witnesses, that I made these sweet entreaties to her, these delicate caresses which conquer modesty without offending it, and which bring defeat without delicacy being alarmed, where disorder and nature are the only accomplices. We went slowly; a large crowd accompanied us, Madame Élisabeth spoke to me about the bodyguards who had accompanied them; she spoke to me about it with tender interest; her voice had something flattering about it. She sometimes interrupted her words in a way that disturbed me. I responded to her with equal gentleness, but yet without weakness, with a kind of austerity which had nothing fierce. I was careful not to compromise my character; I gave everything that was necessary in the position in which I thought I saw her, but without nevertheless giving enough for her to think, even suspect that nothing would ever alter my opinion, and I think that she felt this wonderfully, that she saw that the most seductive temptations would be useless, because I noticed a certain cooling, a certain severity which is often due in women to irritated self-esteem. Voyage de Pétion au retour de Varennes, cited in Mémoires inédits de Pétion et mémoires de Buzot et de Barbaroux (1866), p. 195. Jfc Jérôme you do know Stockholm Syndrome is not an official condition among psychologists right?!

In the beginning of last August (1792), I saw Péthion [sic] for the first time. As I knew very well that he was continually possessed by Brissot’s faction I wanted to probe him. As a result, I asked that we meet under pretext of obtaining a passport. He was holding council and sent me back the following morning. I was received with this simple joviality which characterizes him: ”It’s really him! Oh! It’s really him!” the good man cried and held me in his arms. I was a bit surprised by his embraces, I attributed them to the hope he had of seeing me leave soon. My conjecture changed into certainty, when I saw his expression darken, hearing me tell him that I was not leaving, and urging him to give me two of the presses seized from Durosoi. Marat in number 685 (September 21 1792) of l’Ami du Peuple. 

Jérôme Péthion [sic] said, in confidence to Danton, when the seals were put on Roland’s papers: ”what offends poor Roland the most is that his domestic sorrows will be made public, and it will be known how bitter a cup cuckoldom was to the old man, and how much it disturbed the tranquillity of that great mind.” l’Histoire des Brissotins (1793) by Camille Desmoulins. 

There were two beds without curtains, two very dark little closets serving as wardrobes, a window overlooking the street, a small fireplace, and two or three chairs. So here I am, alone in a room with two young persons of interesting countenance, undressing myself, going to bed before them; then they get undressed and go to bed before me. I felt, I confess, these embarrassments of decency, which they no doubt felt even more than I did. But it was easy to see how much the generous action which they knew removed from their souls those ideas which might have troubled them. They did not even make any of those reflections which bring out the delicacy of the circumstance. I need not say that I did not allow myself any of these remarks, any of these jokes which could frighten the most severe modesty. I even confess that I experienced none of these sensations, none of these desires so natural that they are involuntary in the man whom nature has made truly man. I would have shamed myself if I had been tempted to abuse this touching hospitality. I was a brother with sisters. Pétion’s memoirs, cited in Mémoires inédits de Pétion et mémoires de Buzot & de Barbaroux(1866), p. 131-132.

[heartfeltcherie]

omg i saw your requests are open and could you do something fluffy with lucifer? maybe like you see something and want to buy it, but can’t and so he surprises you.

i genuinely think i suck at writing for lucifer but will that stop me? nope!

☾. °.   ࿐  ` , •

lucifer was the sweetest boyfriend ever. always asking to hold your hand (though, you tell him he never has to ask), always making sure he’s walking on the outside of the sidewalk and you on the inside, always making pinkie promises with you. he was so unbelievably… perfect.

you were the first person he opened up to about lilith and the ideas he had had for heaven that made him fall into hell; and you listened with an open mind and a heart that you decided would beat solely for him.

it was now your fifth date, walking the streets of pentagram city. the day had gone beautifully with your arm linked around lucifer’s, the sky painted different shades of red. you followed in each other’s steps as fellow sinners were beginning to close up shop for the day.

there was one place in particular that caught your eye — ellie’s pride boutique. so good, you’ll double die! with the white lettering on a red sign, lights flashing all around it. it surely caught your attention. and lucifer noticed as he watched you with so much adoration in eyes as you went up to the big glass window, putting your hands beside your face to get a better look inside.

it was a beautiful dress, one that looked like it came out of the many fairytales you’d seen when you were still alive, a kid.

“see something you like, lovey?” lucifer’s beside you now, also taking a turn in looking through the shop’s window. “wow! that dress is amazing! i-i think it’d look really good on you… erm… know it would” he nervously laughs. “don’t you think?” you laugh at his awkwardness. it’s cute.

“i think it’s a very pretty dress, luci”

you’re putting your hand out to lay on lucifer’s chest, only to feel the soft material of his duck-patterned sheets. blinking your eyes open, rather confused, you sit up in your shared bed wondering where your doting boyfriend was.

and then you hear commotion coming from the living room.

was he creating more rubber duckies?

slipping out of bed to where the noise was coming from and just peaking your head around the corner, you see lucifer rushing around like a mad man.

and then you also see a mannequin… and that dress you saw yesterday in the window.

oh, you felt really bad.

“this has to be perfect! oh gosh, i hope she hasn’t woken up yet, i haven’t even made the tea ye- oh hi, dear!” his blonde locks are a mess and his coat is off, leaving you to see that striped shirt that you think he looks oh-so handsome in; your heart does flips on the spot. “hi, luci. what’s all this?” you point to the elephant in the room — or more-so, behind lucifer.

“oh! r-right!” he clears his throat, making sure his hair is back in order. “my dear, i saw the way your eyes lit up when you saw this dress in the window, and i couldn’t help myself. so… i woke up early this morning to go and make quick purchase of it”

you step closer, completely in awe over the fact that lucifer would do something like this for you… and the dress, of course.

“lucifer, it’s gorgeous… but you didn’t have to do this for me. i-i could’ve saved up money”

“and have you wait a year or a few months? honey, we both know you suck at saving… and spending”

“you have a point”

he takes the dress off the mannequin — with shaky hands and a bunch of nerves as to not ruin the dress. he puts the beautiful piece in your hands.

“here! go try this on! i’ll make us some morning tea!”

you make your way to the washroom and you have to admit, the dress suits you so well — you feel like a princess. your eyes keep focused on the mirror, not truly believing that such a beautiful piece of clothing was adorning your body and made you look like what fairytales were written about. you feel slightly nervous walking out to show lucifer.

he’s sat on the couch, a cup of tea in his hand as he sips from it and one resting on the coffee table in front of him.

“your highness”

lucifer looks over the rim of his cup and as soon as his eyes meet yours, he spats out his drink and becomes a coughing mess.

“oh my golly! darling! you look…” you giggle at his blushing face, curtseying as both hands hold the bottom fluff of your dress. you can’t deny, you’re a flustered mess yourself, wearing something so elegant in front of the king of hell. sure, you’re together, but his title still had that effect on you.

“yeah? how do i look?” you ask shyly. lucifer gets up from his spot, setting his tea cup gently beside yours. he now stands in front of you, his hand coming up underneath your chin, his palm soft against your skin.

“you look as beautiful as the day we met”

please reblog/comment, it’s greatly appreciated ♡

[agavekitten]

»»————-　♡　————-«« ♡ »»————-　♡ ————-««

Summary - You're Abby's Favorite Daycare Attendent!

Pairing - Mike Schmidt x Fem! Reader

Warnings- All fluff!

»»————-　♡　————-«« ♡ »»————-　♡ ————-««

Every day felt the same, gray, uncomfortable and cold. Nothing seemed to bring the warmth like it used to. Even getting out of bed feels like a chore. I rubbed my eyes, staring into the darkness of the room around me. The soft blankets coddled around me were the only things keeping me from feeling the light cold air around me. I could only let out a sigh as I thought about the day ahead of me. The same old same old, wake up, work, clean then sleep. Over and over again until I could feel nothing. 

Today was one of those days, where I felt nothing. I didn't even notice that I got out of bed and had already gotten dressed. It was like a blur, like everything around me is simply a picture and none of it is real. It’s almost nice to think of it like that - a picture. It makes the things around you more interesting, a painting can be anything you interpret it as. It can be beautiful with every stroke of the paint having meaning and purpose. Or, there is the other interpretation, the one that makes the world look sad and unappealing with bland colors and concepts. But, I didn't like to think of it that way. If I'm going to live in my own fantasy world and believe that the world is a painting, it's going to be a happy colorful one damn it. 

I stepped out of the room and made my way to the bathroom, god I looked terrible. My hair looked like a bird just laid eggs in it and my face was swollen from the night's rest. I’ve always been hypocritical about how I looked, but today it was just a joke. Did my look matter that much? Not really in the grand scheme of things but to me it was important. I work at a daycare and the thought of a parent thinking I looked like a bum on the street and questioning if I had good hygiene made me want to throw up. I spent the first hour and a half trying to make myself look better. I finally felt like a person again as I put my hair up. I gave myself a small smile in the mirror and it immediately fell.

*buzz buzz* 

I looked down at my phone and saw the time, shit. I was late to work, again. I never woke up early to get ready and make myself feel like a person again. Now that I think about it, that's a bit of a problem. I went to the front door and grabbed my bag then rushed out the door. My job was the one thing that I really truly loved. Seeing the kids' faces light up when I enter the room and rush over to me to ask to play with them was always a highlight. It made me feel like my life did have purpose. All these kids relied on me while their parents worked or had a day to themselves, I’ve even become quite attached to a few of them. There was one kid that I look forward to seeing everyday, her name was Abby. She always had a smile on her face when she saw me grabbing my shirt practically begging if we could draw together. I would always spend most of my time drawing and playing games with her while the other daycare attendants played with the other kids. Abby didn't have a lot of friends and besides with you, she was often really quiet. I smiled at the thought of seeing Abby today. She should already be there by the time I walk through the daycare door. 

And just as I suspected, when I came through the door, there she was. A big smile on her face, her hair curled slightly and she had on a pair of cute overalls. “Hey Abbs!” I gave her a soft smile and opened my arms. She came running over and gave me a huge squeeze. “I thought you weren't going to be here today, I got sad.” Abby said, looking up at me with her large doe eyes. I moved my hand to her head, messing up her hair a bit. “You know I don't miss a day kiddo.” She giggled in response, “come draw with me Y/N! I've been waiting all morning! I have an amazing idea of what kind of cats we can draw today” Abby dragged you over to the table with all the art supplies spewed about. That was Abby and I’s thing, drawing cats in different scenarios. You know pirate cats, president cats, the whole works. “What were you thinking?” I sat next to her and smiled. She made a small drumroll on the table with her fingers. “....zombie cats.” We both went silent as we looked at eachother then let out a small giggle. “Zombie cats it is then.” We spent that afternoon drawing zombie cats in different scenarios, zombie cats in the grocery store, getting hair cuts, driving cars and my personal favorite two zombie cats that were dressed like Abby and I. 

“Y/N?” Abby put her green crayon down. 

“Yes Abby?”

“You should meet my brother, he would like you.” Abby had the most serious look on her face and I giggled. “Really? Now why's that?” 

“Well I like you and you're my friend so why wouldn't he like you.” She picked her crayon back up and continued to draw, “he likes all my friends.”

 “He seems like a very nice Abby, I would love to meet him.” I gave her a soft smile.

“Abby?”

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This is my first fanfic so please be gentle….

yes there will be a part 2!!!

[mrsportgas]

The Neighbor. Chapter 2

Summary: The story takes place in the real world. Shanks, your unbearable neighbor, makes you a proposition that you're unsure whether to reject. It could be the start of a friendship, or maybe something more?

SHANKS X YOU

WARNING: Except for the first chapter, the rest will contain scenes of sex and violence, making this fanfic strictly +18.

TAG LIST: @buggsclownie @commanderfreethatdust

"I'd rather freeze," I whispered to myself.

"Are you coming or not?" Shanks repeated as he approached the porch of his house.

"I'm not going into a stranger's house, thanks."

"You're friends with Luffy, right? Tell him you're at my place, and tell your friend too. Anyway, I don’t think I’m a stranger. I wasn’t going to do anything weird to you."

"That's what you say." The truth was, the cold I felt was unbearable. I figured if I told Nami or even Luffy and something happened, at least they’d know where I was. "Fine, but as soon as Nami arrives, I'm leaving."

Shanks left the bags at his door and walked over to where I stood, shielding myself with the umbrella. "Shall we?" He started walking. I had to jog a little to catch up and fit under the umbrella. As we passed by his car, I noticed it was the same Range Rover that had splashed me earlier.

"Hey! You were the one who drove through a puddle and soaked me!" I said, pointing at my drenched clothes. Shanks scanned me from head to toe with his eyes, licking his lips as he did. Realizing it, I felt so embarrassed. Was he checking me out? At that moment, I couldn't tell if it disgusted me or if I liked it.

I snatched the umbrella from his hands and ran to his front door. "Open up, I'm freezing to death, you freak."

Shanks hurried to the door, running his hand through his wet hair. Damn, he might be older, but he looked amazing. He quickly opened the door, holding it for me to pass.

"Don't look at my butt," I said curtly.

Shanks burst into laughter. "Do you ever relax? What do you think I am, some pervert? A kid like your little friends?"

I entered the house quickly, and honestly, everything was perfectly decorated. Every piece of furniture, every painting, was meticulously placed, and it was all beautiful. There were paintings, statues, and various trinkets from around the world, along with elegant rugs, sofas, and tables.

"Do you like it?" Shanks asked with a smirk as he leaned, arms crossed, against one of the tables.

"Don’t get ahead of yourself. I’m not as easily impressed as your other friends."

Shanks laughed out loud. "Come on, you'd better take a shower before you soak all the rugs in the house."

"A towel will do."

Shanks motioned for me to follow him to the bathroom. We went upstairs to a huge room with an even bigger bed, and behind one door, the bathroom. "There’s the shower and towels. Do whatever you want."

The bathroom was enormous, with a large shower and a jacuzzi. Clearly, the man had money, unlike our rented house where the faucet barely worked.

Once inside, I locked the door. I didn’t want that pervert opening it or trying anything. I took off my wet clothes, trying to spread them out as much as possible on a radiator on the wall. I took out my phone again to see if anyone had messaged me, but there was nothing. I called Robin, and finally, it started ringing.

"Y/N? Is everything okay?" Robin answered on the other side of the line.

"Are you with Nami? I locked myself out and can't get in," I replied, hoping Nami was there.

"HEY Y/N!!! COME HERE NOW!!!" I heard Luffy shouting in the background.

"I don’t have my keys, and my clothes are soaked. I need to wait for Nami to get home. Luffy, I’m at your friend’s place."

"Okay, Y/N, I’ll try to contact Nami, or if she comes here, I’ll tell her to bring you the keys," Robin replied.

"HUH? What friend?" Luffy could be heard asking in the background.

"Shanks."

"That’s awesome! Have fun!!! I didn’t know you two were hanging out!" Luffy responded without thinking.

"Luffy, he's just my neighbor, that's all," I said, knowing he wouldn't understand the situation and would keep thinking there was something going on with Shanks. "Robin, we'll talk later. I'm fine. I hope Nami replies soon."

"Don’t worry, I’ll keep an eye out. Call me if anything happens."

We hung up. I grabbed a towel and got into the shower, cranking the water up to boiling. I really needed it; my body warmed up almost immediately. Shanks’ smile when he looked at me came back to my mind, and I found myself daydreaming about his body and that smile.

Someone knocked on the door. "I left some clothes on the bed. I imagine you’ll want to change; I doubt you can wear your own," Shanks said from the other side of the door.

"Thanks," I replied, unsure of what else to say and feeling embarrassed by my recent fantasies.

I finished showering and wrapped the towel around myself, slowly opening the door just in case he’d decided to wait for me in the room. But no, even the bedroom door was now closed. I quickly grabbed the clothes Shanks had left—a pair of sweatpants, a hoodie, and some slippers—and took them back to the bathroom to change, feeling secure knowing the door had a lock. When I was ready and mentally prepared, I checked my phone again, but still no word from Nami.

I hesitantly went downstairs. Shanks was in the kitchen, leaning on a high table while looking at his phone.

"Want something to drink? Are you hungry?" he asked, not taking his eyes off his phone.

"I’m fine, thanks," I replied, feeling a bit awkward, rubbing my arms to warm up a little more. "My name’s Y/N, by the way."

Shanks lifted his head and walked out of the room, returning with a blanket. "Here… Y/N," he said with a smile on his face again.

He placed the blanket over my shoulders, brushing my body lightly with his hands. I shivered, feeling his warm touch on my skin, and a part of me wished that moment would never end.

"So, Y/N, what brings you to this city?"

"My Ph.D., and you?"

"I work as a CEO for a multinational," he responded cheerfully.

"I see…"

"You know, I grew up with nothing, so when I realized I could use my brain, I worked hard to get all this so I’d never go hungry again, nor would my parents, although now it’s just me."

"Wow… I’m really sorry."

"Thanks, but I’m fine. As you’ve probably noticed, I spend my time traveling the world and working now and then, although I’ll be stuck here for quite a while," he added.

I responded with a kind of nervous laugh.

"What's your PhD about? What do you want to do with it?" he asked as he sat next to me at the high kitchen table.

We spent quite a while talking about my PhD, university, and our mutual friendship with Luffy. It turned out we had much more in common than we initially thought. So much so that I lost track of time.

"Are you hungry? I was thinking of ordering dinner," Shanks said suddenly, moving a bit closer.

"Actually, I am hungry, but I was supposed to meet my friends for dinner. I hope Nami replies soon."

"Well, I'm going to order something, and if you have time, you can have some. If not, no big deal." A big smile appeared on his lips again, making me blush. "What do you like?"

"Order whatever you like."

"Do you like sushi? Check this place out—they just opened. Let’s try it."

"Yeah! Luffy mentioned it yesterday, but they say it's the most expensive place in the city. I'll pay you half."

"You're at my place, you're not paying anything," he laughed.

"Then order something cheaper."

"I don’t care about the money. I’ll get this; it looks good." Shanks started picking out all kinds of sushi, condiments, and appetizers.

Suddenly, my phone started ringing. It was Nami finally calling.

"Y/N!!! I stayed late at university, and then my phone died, I'm so sorry! I just talked to Robin and charged my phone. I'm on my way now. Are you okay?"

"Nami! Yes, I’m fine, I’m at the neighbor's place. Call me when you get here."

"I just ordered everything. Consider it an apology for splashing you with the car," Shanks said with a playful grin. "If you want, sit by the fireplace so you can warm up while you wait for your friend."

We both got up and headed to the sofa. I sat on the end closest to the fireplace, and to my surprise, Shanks sat in the middle. Though I was feeling more and more comfortable, I had to admit that I was starting to enjoy his company.

After a while, the doorbell rang, and we both assumed it was the delivery. Shanks stood up and opened the door.

"Hey, old man, I hope you didn’t do anything to my friend," Nami said, walking right in without caring if she was invited or not.

"Your friend’s just fine, don’t worry," Shanks replied, surprised by her boldness.

"Nami! Let’s go home," I called from the sofa.

"So, it’s true you’re doing okay," Nami teased me, trying to get a reaction.

I got up, folding the blanket, and headed toward the door.

"I know we ordered food," I said, looking at Shanks.

"Don’t worry, you had plans with your friends first."

I smiled slightly, "See you around."

I followed Nami out the door, and we quickly headed back to our place, going straight up to my room. Nami closed the curtains quickly. "Tell me everything."

"Nami, nothing happened. He was just being nice."

"Y/N, you’re wearing his clothes…"

"Oh my god! My clothes… I left them in his bathroom…" We both burst into laughter. I recounted my little adventure as we laughed.

"So, you like him, huh?"

"Nami… He’s just our neighbor, and he’s nice, that’s all," I said, trying to brush off Nami’s mischievous grin. "I should go get my clothes and return his."

"Okay, so I shouldn't wait for you to go back?" Nami asked with a little nudge to stop teasing me.

"You can go ahead if you want, I'll go later."

The truth was, I felt bad since he had ordered dinner for the two of us. And honestly, I wasn’t sure why, but I wanted to keep talking to him. So, I changed my clothes and headed back to his door, ringing the bell. "I brought your clothes," I said as soon as he opened the door, hoping he’d ask me to come in.

"Thanks, that was fast," Shanks replied.

Seeing that he hadn’t picked up on my hint, I tried again. "Has the food arrived? I’m hungry."

"Aren't you supposed to have dinner with your friends?" But seeing that I wasn’t making any move to leave, he added, "Do you want to come in?"

Shanks stepped aside, leaving the door open for me to enter. I felt a small sense of relief as I crossed the threshold, returning to the warmth of his home. It was strange how such a short time had been enough for me to feel more comfortable around him, although there was still something about his demeanor that kept me on my toes.

He led me back to the living room, where a low table was now set up with all sorts of sushi, colorful rolls, and some dishes I didn’t even recognize. There were several bottles of sake and tea, and the fireplace was still glowing, casting a warm and cozy light around the room.

"Sake?" Shanks asked, lifting one of the bottles and pouring into two small cups without waiting for my answer.

"Just a little," I replied, taking a seat on the sofa while he sat down beside me, this time closer than before but not uncomfortably so.

I tried my first bite of sushi, and it was delicious. Luffy was right about the food, as always. Shanks watched my reaction with a satisfied smile.

"Good, right?" he asked, sounding confident.

"It’s not bad," I said, trying to sound indifferent, though I knew my expression gave me away. I couldn’t help but smile.

We spent the next few minutes chatting about trivial things: the food, Luffy’s adventures, and our lives before ending up in this city. Shanks spoke with such ease that, for a moment, I forgot about the age difference between us or the fact that, until a few hours ago, I barely knew him.

When we finished eating, he offered me more sake. I hesitated at first but accepted a second cup. I could feel the warmth of the alcohol starting to relax me, and little by little, my guard came down.

"You know, you’re different from what I imagined when I first saw you," Shanks said as he leaned back on the sofa, gazing at the fire in the fireplace.

"Oh yeah? What did you think?" I asked, curious.

"Well, when I soaked you with my car, I thought you’d hate me. Then, when you resisted coming into my house, I knew you had a lot of character. But you’re more… interesting than I expected. You have more layers, you know?"

"Layers?" I laughed at his choice of words. "Like an onion?"

"Something like that," he replied with a smile. "But seriously, I’m intrigued by what you do. The effort you put into your PhD, the passion you have for your studies… It's refreshing to meet someone with such clear goals."

His gaze locked onto mine, and for a moment, the atmosphere filled with a tension I didn’t know how to interpret. It wasn’t uncomfortable, but I wasn’t expecting it either. I couldn’t help but blush.

“I’m just trying to do the best I can,” I replied, attempting to steer the conversation away from myself. “And you? You must have had to work incredibly hard to get where you are.”

Shanks set the sake glass on the table and got comfortable, now looking at me directly.

“Yeah, but I’ve also been lucky. I think in life, you have to be in the right place at the right time… and know how to seize opportunities when they come.”

I felt the weight of his gaze, making the air feel thicker. We were sitting closer now, and the spark in his eyes wasn’t something I could easily ignore.

“And what do you plan to do now that you’re here for a while?” I asked, trying to break the silence that had formed between us.

“Right now?” he asked with a small smile, as if he knew what I was trying to do. “I suppose I’ll take the time to enjoy the company… and see what comes up.”

I couldn’t help but notice the hint in his voice. I bit my lip, feeling the atmosphere fill again with that strange mix of attraction and hesitation.

Suddenly, the sound of my phone vibrating on the table broke the tension. It was Nami.

“Excuse me,” I murmured as I picked up the phone and stood to answer it. Looking at the screen, I saw a message:

Nami: “Are you coming in the end? Everything okay?”

I looked at Shanks, who was still watching me with that same smile on his lips, then back at Nami’s message. I hesitated for a moment, then typed my response.

Me: “I’m fine, don’t worry. I think I’ll stay here.”

I put my phone away and turned back to Shanks, who had now also stood up.

“Everything okay with Nami?” he asked casually.

“Yeah, everything’s fine. I told her I’d stay a bit longer. I hope you don’t mind.”

“Not at all,” he replied as he slowly approached, his eyes still locked on mine. “In fact, I’m glad you decided to stay.”

I felt a slight shiver run through me, but this time it wasn’t just from the cold.

Shanks was slowly getting closer. I could feel his presence filling the space around me as his gaze remained fixed on mine. The warmth of the fireplace still filled the room, but it wasn’t the only thing making my senses sharper.

Without a word, Shanks sat down next to me on the couch, closer than he had been before. His fingers brushed against my leg with a softness that surprised me. It wasn’t intrusive, but the warmth of his hand on my bare thigh, right where my sweatpants left the skin exposed, made me hold my breath. I glanced down, seeing his hand moving slowly as he traced soft circles with his fingers.

“Are you comfortable?” he whispered, his voice low and deep, filled with a sweetness I hadn’t expected.

“Yes…” I replied in a murmur, my body reacting faster than my mind could process. His hand moved up slightly, now caressing my arm with the same care he had shown on my leg. His touch was gentle, almost as if testing the limits.

The contact was disconcerting but also exciting. My thoughts tangled between the sensation of his fingers on my skin and the uncertainty of what would come next.

I could feel the tension building in the air, a mixture of nervousness and anticipation. I bit my lip, trying to organize my thoughts, but the moment felt as if it were about to burst in any direction.

Just when it seemed everything was about to overflow, Shanks slowly withdrew his hand, giving me space and a smile full of intention. “It’s late now. Shall I walk you home?”

I wasn’t sure how to interpret his words, but I nodded. “Yes, that would be best. Thanks for dinner and for letting me stay here a while.” I stood up, feeling the warmth of the fireplace and the touch of his hands still lingering on my skin.

Shanks grabbed the jacket he had left on a chair and offered it to me. “It’s cold outside. I don’t want you getting wet again.” I put it on, grateful for the gesture. We walked together to the door, and with a subtle motion, Shanks opened and held it for me to pass through.

The night air was cold, but less biting than it had been earlier. We walked in silence the few meters separating our houses. When we reached my door, Shanks stopped and looked me directly in the eyes.

“It’s been a good night, Y/N. I’m glad you came.”

“Yes, it was… interesting.” I smiled shyly. Though the air was still charged, the proximity to my door made me feel a bit safer.

“Goodnight, Shanks.”

“Goodnight, Y/N. Sleep well.”

I watched as he turned and crossed the street back to his house. When his door closed behind him, I sighed and opened mine, climbing the stairs to my room, my mind still swirling from the events of the night.

The next morning dawned fresh and quiet, and to my relief, I didn’t have any academic commitments. Nami, Robin, and I had planned to go out that night. A new nightclub had opened in town, and we had decided it was the perfect occasion to dance and forget about the hectic week we’d had.

Around nine at night, we gathered at the apartment. Nami, as always, looked stunning in a tight dress that fit her perfectly. Robin had opted for something more casual but equally elegant. I, for my part, had chosen a fairly sexy but flattering dress, not wanting to go unnoticed.

“Ready?” Robin asked as she touched up her makeup in front of the mirror.

“Yes, let’s go. I need a couple of drinks to relax,” I responded, still thinking about what had happened the night before with Shanks. I hadn’t shared all the details, just mentioned that I’d had dinner at his place, but Nami kept making playful comments whenever she had the chance.

We walked together to the nightclub, which was already packed. The neon lights and the music pulsed through the air, making the floor vibrate beneath our feet. We entered, and soon we were lost in the crowd. As we danced and laughed, I began to relax. The rhythm of the music made me forget, for moments, the nervousness I had felt since the night before.

Suddenly, I saw a familiar figure at the bar. Shanks. He was surrounded by a group of friends, all laughing and drinking, clearly enjoying the night. He was wearing a tight black shirt that highlighted his physique, and his red hair was slightly messy, giving him a carefree, seductive look. I froze.

“What’s wrong?” Robin asked, noticing my reaction.

“Nothing, it’s just… Shanks is here,” I replied, discreetly pointing toward the bar.

Nami turned and saw him. “That’s Shanks? Wow, I didn’t expect to see him here,” she said, smiling mischievously.

“Are you going to say hi?” Robin asked, raising an eyebrow in curiosity.

“I don’t know… I don’t want him to think I’m following him or something,” I replied, feeling a bit awkward.

“Oh, don’t be silly. Let’s go to the bar anyway, I need a drink,” Nami said, already pulling us by the hands toward where Shanks was.

As we approached, Shanks looked up and saw me. A wide smile spread across his face, and he stepped away from his group of friends to come closer.

“Y/N, what a surprise to see you here,” he said, his voice rising above the music.

“Hi,” I responded with a nervous smile. “We came out to have some fun.”

“Do you want a drink? My friends and I have already ordered a bit of everything. Help yourselves, girls,” he said, also addressing Robin and Nami.

“Yes, sure, why not?” I replied, feeling my nerves intensify. Shanks offered me a drink and gestured for me to join him in a quieter area.

While Robin and Nami stayed chatting with the rest of the group, Shanks and I found a corner where the noise of the nightclub wasn’t as overwhelming. We sat on a couch, our legs brushing accidentally.

“I thought about you today,” Shanks said suddenly, looking at me intently.

“Oh, really? Why?”

“I felt like our evening was cut short. I was tired, but I wanted more. How about another dinner? What do you say?” he asked, his tone serious but filled with a slight provocation.

I stared at him, feeling that same tension from the night before returning all at once.

“That could be a good idea,” I replied, smiling shyly.

Suddenly, Nami appeared abruptly, dragging Robin by the arm. “I have to go to the bathroom.”

Shanks leaned toward me, whispering, “I’ll see you later. Enjoy your night.” With that, he stood up and returned to his friends.

Nami pulled us toward the bathroom. “Girls, emergency. One of the friends from next door is my PhD advisor.”

“And what’s the problem?” Robin asked, confused.

Nami blushed instantly. I already knew what was going on.

“That’s why you stayed so late the other day and didn’t answer my messages. You like him!”

Nami quickly covered my mouth as if anyone could hear us. “Maybe, I don’t know.”

“He’s very handsome,” Robin said

The three of us laughed and took the opportunity to tease Nami for a while, returning all the comments she made to us daily.

“Girls, I’m going to refill my drink, I’ll be right back,” I said, noticing that the drink Shanks had given me was empty.

As I approached the bar, Shanks and some others from his group were laughing and chatting with a group of girls. One of them, in particular, couldn’t stop touching and flirting with him, and Shanks didn’t seem to mind much.

I timidly approached the bar and ordered my drink. Suddenly, someone put their arm around my shoulders.

“Y/N, I didn’t expect to see you here… are you stalking me?”

Kid.

“Kid,” I said, rolling my eyes. “What do you want?”

“Are you alone? Come with me outside for a while, let’s talk,” he said, grabbing my hand.

“No, I’m with friends, thanks,” I replied.

I grabbed my drink, intending to find my friends and leave. I spotted Nami and Robin, who had joined the group and were each talking with one of Shanks’ friends.

Kid pulled me toward him, gripping my hand tightly. “Who did you come with? Your new boyfriend? I bet he’s got nothing on me. I’m better,” he said.

I tried to pull away from his hand, but his grip was strong. “Come back to me, or I’ll break that idiot’s face.”

“Leave me alone, Kid.”

“Come on, who is it? You probably made him up,” he said, loosening his grip just slightly but not enough for me to escape the situation.

“Him,” I said, pointing at Shanks.

Kid burst out laughing. “Yeah, right, like anyone would believe that. Prove it, then. Go over there and show me you’re with him, and I’ll leave you alone.”

I turned and saw the worried looks on my friends’ faces and Shanks glancing in our direction.

Kid let go of my arm, and I used the opportunity to escape from him.

“I’m waiting, Y/N,” he shouted after me.

I had to do something; I had to get rid of him. I downed my drink in one gulp to gather the courage and make a decision. Okay.

I quickly made my way through the crowd toward Shanks. He greeted me with a look of surprise, though there was an intense look in his eyes, scanning me from head to toe, not missing a single move I made.

I got closer, and Shanks instinctively leaned toward me, much to the astonishment of the girl who was gripping his bicep. Without thinking about the consequences, or anyone else around us, or even what Shanks might think or want, I grabbed him by the neck. My hands moved to his face, and I quickly pressed my lips toward his, not giving anyone time to think about what was about to happen.

Our lips fused together passionately. Shanks grabbed my waist, and his other hand moved to my hair, gripping it firmly. After a moment, his tongue pushed past my lips, deepening the kiss with fiery intensity while his friends began cheering and laughing. I was so embarrassed that I pulled away from his lips. Shanks let go of me, but his gaze lingered on my wrist.

“Did he hurt you?” he asked with concern.

I looked down at my wrist, which was red from Kid’s rough grip.

“What happened, Y/N?” he asked again as I remained silent.

The ringing in my ears grew louder and louder. I had been too impulsive, and now everything was crashing down on me.

Shanks took my other hand and led me to a quieter part of the bar, where the atmosphere was calmer.

“Are you okay pretty? Do you want me to take you home?” he asked gently.

I shook my head. I needed to calm down and get back to normal. I didn’t want to ruin the night.

“Who is that guy?” he asked again, his tone more relaxed, as he moved a little closer and gently massaged my back.

“He’s my ex. He won’t leave me alone,” I said, closing my eyes, trying to clear my mind. “I’m sorry about earlier. I was stupid. I shouldn’t have kissed you without your permission.”

Shanks leaned in even closer, slowly pressing his body against mine, and once again, his lips met mine with great passion. He kissed me for a few seconds, then moved toward my ear.

“Do you trust me?” he whispered while gently biting my ear.

I nodded, completely surrendering myself.

He lifted my dress slightly, slipping his hand under it and grabbing my butt firmly, massaging it while he returned to kiss me again, fiercely.

NEXT CHAPTER

[harrisonarchive]

George Harrison in the Liverpool Institute school photo, April 1956; screenshot from The Beatles Anthology.

George’s first day at the Institute was 8 September 1954.

“The first day at the Institute Tony Workman leapt on my back from behind a door and said, ‘Do you want a fight, lad.’ [...] I hated being dictated to. Some schizophrenic jerk, just out of training college, would just read out notes to you which you were expected to take down. I could never read them afterwards anyway. They never fooled me. Useless, the lot of them. That’s when things go wrong, when you’re quietly trying to grow up and they start trying to force being part of society down your throat. They’re all trying to transfigure you from the pure way of thought as a child, forcing their illusions on you. All those things annoyed me. I was just trying to be myself. They were trying to turn everybody into rows of little toffees.” - George Harrison, The Beatles Authorized Biography

“The Big School, Liverpool Institute, was a real pain in the neck. [...] It was such a dump. It could have looked good. It could have had the paint scraped off the woodwork and been decorated like the Victoriana it was. I took Olivia to see it. Coming from California she couldn’t believe it. There was a night school going on so we were able to wander around and look at the rooms where I had been.” - George Harrison, I Me Mine

“Actually, I was a real sort of lout in my youth. When I was a kid I liked to run about and jump and do all those things kids do, but then they took me away and put me in college or high school where we didn’t do anything except Latin and logrith — logarithms.” - George Harrison, Rockline, 10 February 1988

George Harrison: “Yeah, I’d like to send one [request] too, to two mates of mine who were at school and always getting kicked out with me, Kelly and Workman, that is, Tony Workman and Arthur Kelly. If yer listening —" (John Lennon shouts) “Get a job!” (Laughter) GH: “Hello, how are yer, and all the best.” - Chris Denning’s Radio Luxembourg show, backstage at the Hammersmith Odeon during Another Beatles Christmas Show, December 1964 (x)

[kykyonthemoon]

7 Days the mini-series

About this series: ✈️

Day 07: A Lifetime

The warm sunlight painted the attic a pale yellow, covering the shelves adorned with old framed photographs and trinkets that held endless memories. I stepped inside. I walked in. My legs were no longer nimble, but I could still climb up to the attic by myself like every day.

That place was still his favorite corner.

The attic, the garden, the whole house were the presents he gave me when we got married. It was built on the foundation of our former house, which had exploded years ago. Although the rooms and arrangement had changed slightly, only this attic remained unchanged.

I dropped myself onto the sofa where he was sitting, flipping through memories in every timeless thing; paper planes, letters, the apple hair clip he gave me, and so on. I leaned down to pick up his old dress cap as it rolled to the ground, brushed it off a few times, and placed it on my head.

As if it was just yesterday when I was standing with him at the graduation ceremony of the aerospace academy.

"You know the tradition," he grinned, and I softly kissed the wrinkles on his face. At that moment, I felt like we traveled back in the midst of applause, in the rain of dress caps and confetti. The young me and him appeared, as if time had frozen at the exact moment I brought him closer to kiss him on the cheek. 

There were countless moments like that in this attic, in this place. They became less vivid with time, and I had forgotten some of the details. But the images of me and him still existed here. Sometimes, when I thought of the past, they would flash before my eyes like slow-motion movies that I always cherished.

It was the little version of me holding his hand for the first time. It was how we took care of each other when we were sick. It was the naps and meals with him. It was the laughter and the tears. It was when I thought I had lost him forever just to reunite with him once more. The first time we went on a date. Our first kiss. The fights and then the reconciliation. The trips we took. The day he got down on one knee. The first cries of each child that was formed from our love. Every moment in our children's lives, when they took off to build their own new nests... All the memories were kept somewhere in the corner of this place, intact, even when I could not remember them clearly anymore.

He and I started our journey together here, and in the end, we came back to the very place.

“Have the kids gone home?” He asked. He wasn’t feeling well these days, but he still kept the habit of going up to the attic every day.

“Yes, they've left.”

Occasionally, our children, grandchildren, and even great-grandchildren would come to see us in our modest abode. After a long day, it was only him and me, sitting peacefully next to each other.

“Now it’s just the two of us.” He smiled, then held my hand.

It was the same in the past. I enjoyed sitting with him here and watching the sunset through the window. The golden tint colored my entire universe, dyed his youthful figure, his purple eyes too… The scenes were weaved into every nook of this area. When I called, they would come back to me.

I lost track of time for how long we sat there reminiscing. Our lifetime was wrapped up within this tiny attic. He and I had been together for a lifetime. I felt his weight when Caleb leaned his head on my shoulder. When I was little, I would rest my head on his shoulder and fall asleep without realizing it, in every caress he  gave. Now it was my turn to kiss his forehead.

“Rest now, the love of my life.”

The sun was setting on the other side of the window. The day was ending, as our journey in this life had come to an end.

My hand was securely locked with his. Even our wrinkles matched perfectly, as if we were meant to spend this lifetime together.

He never awoke again. The person I loved the most in this world had passed away on such a serene afternoon, much like the day he stepped into my life. Yet, far away on the horizon, I caught a glimpse of two little figures walking side by side.

“Caleb! Wait for me!”

My tiny feet failed to catch up with him on the long road. Yet he would stop and extend his hand to me, saying:

“Pip-squeak, come to me!”

I always ran towards him, with a bright smile on my lips. Our hands would constantly be safely embracing each other, as we moved towards the warm sunlight. Towards home.

“Wait for me. I will find you in our next life.”

-The End-

Only for Caleb - Xia Yizhou.

Thank you for coming home.