#but like if your politics are cringe sure i'll block you

[iamonlyhereforthefreefood]

I will honestly block people for the pettiest reasons. Yesterday I blocked someone on here I’ve never even interacted with solely because they were an ancap, and I find anarcho-capitalism inherently cringe. 

[butts-bouncing-on-the-beltway]

Could we see the southern gothic playlist, please?

Oh shit, I missed this, I'm sorry!!

I don't really know how I would share the SG playlist given the current format of it, but everything on there is also on my main playlist! So like. If you don't mind also learning about the REST of my absurd music preferences, you can probably pull together your own.

If I ever do manage to share the SG playlist specifically, I'll make sure it goes on Tumblr too lol

To be fair, tho, it's actually a lot easier to find southern gothic music than you'd think, it's just that you have to be willing to ignore the fact that a lot of people who DON'T LIKE southern gothic are going to mock the aesthetic for being "cringe" or whatever as just like. A cultural staple of socialization?? So some of the artists you get recommended are artists that a lot of people are used to reflexively belittling without knowing much (or anything) about the artist or thekr music. It's not uncommon to really need to push past that "why the fuck would I listen to THEM" response that a lot of us have sort of gotten conditioned into us. Country genres tend to be like that, is the thing. It's this weird combination of people managing to find an angle from which to hate on the majority of country music and its musical dialects, no matter what their socio-cultural position is. And like, yeah, not every country dialect is gonna be for everyone. But if you aren't actually willing to listen to The Devil Went Down to Georgia with an open-mind and a curiosity towards its narrative role in our collective oral tradition, then why would you seek out The Devil Wears a Suit and Tie, or Bottom of the River, or Love's Death Bed?

The barrier I think a lot of people (especially in progressive circles) experience in trying to actually get into Southern Gothic is the Southern part. There's this real mental and emotional block people have around the idea of Southern aesthetics being compatible with their ideological and political concept of "being a good person".

And like. Fine. But that makes it sad how often some of the same people will purport to love Southern Gothic but have a hard time finding enough. That happens when you exclude its originational context from your environment. It's not a bad thing inherently or anything just....an implicit bias that I think a lot of people still carry with them and don't really flag for themselves as being anything other than beneficial for their judgement and decisions.

Anyway. I really hope people DO get more into southern gothic as a whole! It's a great scene and there is such rich metatextual conversations to be had and experiences to revel in! But some of yall may have to get comfy being uncomfy if that's what you want to do

[the-great-ladyg]

Hey there!

Welcome to my blog, name's Lady G, you can also call me Lady or Gaby, and this is my place for everything I enjoy or I'm interested in like selfshipping, some discourse, fandom and a bit of politics.

I identify as a genderfluid person, so you can use any pronouns when talking to me, I really don't mind.

I enjoy reading and writing, and I hope to start posting about my ideas in here, I'm eager to share my thoughts about my shipps and ideas, but maybe I'll post them in Spanish. I also like to draw and will post my drawings, maybe, I'm not sure.

I'm a selfshipper and also support oc x canon shipps, so this is your safe place for everyone that enjoys this.

I'm cringe, but I'm free.

I really suck at editing and "aesthetic".

Currently accepting anon asks.

You can find my AO3 here.

BYF

- English is not my first language, so I'm sorry for any grammar mistake, sometimes I might use Spanish when I post an opinion when I really get angry about something that I don't want to translate.

- I'm a proshipper/anti-harrassment/anti-censorship, I don't support any policing of art or the idea that kinks or the pixels someone enjoys is evidence of any crime, actions on real people are evidence, not shipping FlowerPunk.

- This is a 18+ blog, so if there's a minor they'll get blocked, and if someone is uncomfortable with this kind of blogs you can unfollow or ignore me.

- This is also a kink friendly blog, I might not share some kinks with other people, but I won't judge them, this is your safe place.

- If someone comes here to cause any problem, is an instant block, I don't want to deal with trolls and people who want to argue over stupid things.

- I don't really mind sharing F/Os with anyone, just don't bring canon x canon shipps or be obnoxious about your selfshipps with them in the way of "I love them more than you/I write/draw them better than you/I understand them better than you/You're loving them the wrong way", I'm kind of possessive in that way and want to avoid toxicity.

DNI

- Minors

- Antishippers, antiselfshippers, safeshippers, anti oc x canon

- Bigots (conservatives, TERFs, SWERFs, LGBTQphobes, islamophobes, racists, etc.)

- ED, SH, radqueer or related blogs

- If you use he/him or they/them pronouns as a way to try to misgender me thinking I'm a cis woman or treat me like a cis man

- Pro Israel/justify what Israel is doing or has been doing all these years

- Pro AMLO/support and/or justify AMLO (current Mexico's president) and his political party's actions/think any of Mexico's presidents since 2000 is the bad guy except AMLO/think AMLO is Mexico's messiah or best president

- If you'll try to lecture me on economic, cultural, social, etc. aspects about Mexico or being a Latin person and you're not Latin (like with all the "Oye Primos" thing), or you get offended in the name of Latins by things that concern us and you're not Latin (like the Mario poncho thing, or the Encanto drama, we Latins didn't get offended with that, but we did get offended with the American response, when they were trying to lecture us on what really offended us)

- Pro contact MAPs/pedos, zoos, necros, etc.

Favorite characters...

This is a section for characters that wouldn't only fit on a category of my F/O list, but also are characters I like a lot over others from their source material, or are just my favorite ones

- Sauron/Mairon/Annatar/many other names from Lord of the Rings

- Daemon Targaryen from House of the Dragon

F/Os list and tags

(there's no specific order, I'll list them in the order I remember them, might add more in the future)

If you wish to interact with any of them feel free to do so, but they can be OoC

Main

- Miguel O'Hara from Spiderverse movies (🩸🕷️)

- Hobie Brown from Spiderverse movies (🎸🕷️)

- Gladiolus Amiticia from Final Fantasy XV (🛡️⚔️)

- Maegor I "The Cruel" Targaryen from A Song of Ice and Fire (🩸🐲)

- Jean-Pierre Polnareff from JoJo's Bizarre Adventure (🥖⚔️)

- Robert Edward O. Speedwagon from JoJo's Bizarre Adventure (🎩👔)

- Syzoth/Reptile from Mortal Kombat games (🦎🥷🏻)

- Fujin from Mortal Kombat games (💨⚔️)

- Tenya Iida from My Hero Academia (🏃🏻‍♂️🟦)

- Brienne of Tarth from A Song of Ice and Fire (🗡️💎)

F/Os I also love

- Mike Zacharius from Attack on Titan (👃⚔️)

- Reiner Braun from Attack on Titan (🏃🏻‍♂️🛡️)

- Phoenix Ikki from Saint Seiya (🪽🔥)

- Aries Mu from Saint Seiya (🐏🔨)

- Scorpio Milo from Saint Seiya (🦂🪡)

- Gemini Saga from Saint Seiya (♊🌓)

- Thanatos from Saint Seiya (💀⬛)

- Dende from Dragon Ball (🟢🏔️)

- Raditz from Dragon Ball (🩸👊)

- Supreme Kai from Dragon Ball (💜🔮)

- Broly from Dragon Ball (🐶🥦)

- Mezo Shoji from My Hero Academia (🐙🔵)

- Thomas Hewitt from Texas Chainsaw Massacre movies (2003-2006) (🎭🩸)

- Brahms Heelshire from The Boy (🎭🧸)

- Yautja/ Predator: Scar (☠️⚔️), Feral Predator (☠️🐻), Fugitive Predator (💀🔪) from Predator franchise

- Drax the Destroyer from Guardians of the Galaxy (👊🔪)

- Ragnvaldr/Outlander from Fear and Hunger (🐺🪓)

- Nicholas D. Wolfwood from Trigun (🚬✝️)

- Millions Knives/Nai from Trigun (🪴🔪)

- Takeda Takahashi from Mortal Kombat games (⛓️🟡)

- Erron Black from Mortal Kombat games (🩸🔫)

- Kuai Liang from Mortal Kombat games (❄️🧊 as Sub-Zero) (🦂🔥 as Scorpion)

- Zeffeero/Rain from Mortal Kombat games (🥷🏻💧)

- Alucard from Hellsing (🧛🏻‍♂️🩸)

- Toshikazu Hazamada from JoJo's Bizarre Adventure (🤏🏻🎾)

- Mikitaka Hazekura from JoJo's Bizarre Adventure (👽🍦)

- Rykiel from JoJo's Bizarre Adventure (🧑🏻‍🚀🐄)

- Keicho Nijimura from JoJo's Bizarre Adventure (🪖🏹)

- Firelord Ozai from Avatar: The Last Airbender (☄️🔥)

- Santana from JoJo's Bizarre Adventure (🗿☁️)

- Oingo from JoJo's Bizarre Adventure (🎭🧢)

- Vincent Valentine from Final Fantasy VII (⚰️♦️)

- Glossu "Beast" Rabban Harkonnen from Dune (🦅🩸)

- Chase Young from Xiaolin Showdown (🐉🥣)

- Kevin Levin from Ben 10 series (👽🚘)

- Adam/The Creature from Frankenstein (🪡📚)

- Aegon II Targaryen from House of the Dragon (🐲🟢)

- Cregan Stark from A Song of Ice and Fire (🐺❄️)

- Cooper Howard/The Ghoul from Fallout TV series (☢️🐶)

Platonic F/Os

- Yuga Aoyama from My Hero Academia (✨💎)

- Narancia Ghirga from JoJo's Bizarre Adventure (🍊🛩️)

- Finrod Felagund from Lord of the Rings (🧝🏼‍♂️🎻)

- Lúthien Tinuviel from Lord of the Rings (💃🏻🐺)

Familial F/Os

- Ned Stark from A Song of Ice and Fire (🗡️🐺)

- Aragorn Elessar from Lord of the Rings (👑🗡️)

- Samwise Gamgee from Lord of the Rings (🥔🍳)

[firedragon1321]

So I realized two things happened here-

I was driving outside my lane (me problem)

OP and their friend were enforcing cancel culture (them problem)

And I started really thinking about cancel culture and my own place in it. And I decided "fuck it", honestly. I won't apologize for their hate. I have things I hate- that I will never like, and that I'll always criticize- but I'm not going to attack anyone over them.

Because you can't change people. Or what they post. All you can do is block ("I don't like this post/user") or report ("this user is violating TOS by posting hate speech/telling someone to kill themselves/portraying something illegal/spam").

Like for example- effective character design has rules. But if Sparkledog Sam doesn't care about the rules, then why are you attacking them? Assuming you offer criticism kindly (and they asked for it somewhere on their profile), they can react any way they want, including-

I just started making characters- can you tell me more?- continue conversation politely and constructively

I think my character is fine the way they are- do not continue

LAWL u suck! Stop hating on my character!: do not continue and probably block, since they're being hostile. Same goes for any other hostile comment. Report if the comment crosses into hate speech or suicide demands.

I'm not sure how much impact cringe culture had on blocking becoming the coward's move. But it does have a function- "I don't like this, I don't want to see it, and the other human will never know because they can't see me". This should apply to any context you don't like. I know it sounds like "don't like don't look"... because it is. But it's a closer relative to "cultivate your own space". You can choose if you want to fight Sparkledog Sam to the death or roll your eyes in the privacy of your own home. The latter hurts no-one's feelings. If they're really obnoxious, block them. It's better than sending unwanted advice or hate mail.

I just wanted to have fun with my OCs. So does Sparkledog Sam. I don't agree with Sparkledog Sam's character design process. I may trash the concept of sparkledogs every now and again. But I'm not going to harass them personally. It's just a waste of energy spent on cruelty.

If anyone’s wondering where that post on OCs went...

I made a post on someone else’s post about OCs and when it’s appropriate to talk about them and how much. I had to block two people (including OP) who were spewing hateful comments, and thus deleted it because I couldn’t afford to block any more.

The lesson here is don’t speak up or disagree, especially on posts that aren’t yours. That’s why I normally…don’t. But I reacted impulsively. Everything in my response was my fault. I apologize for what may have been perceived as bad behavior or overstepping my boundaries. But now that the post is reblogged with hurtful comments attached, I can’t do anything else about it.

Unfortunately, I will continue to post stupid shit that’s horrible that no-one likes. Here’s how to never see any of my shitty, good-for-nothing comments ever again (this works for any user on this site)-

Go to my profile

Click the three dots

Select “Block”

Confirm

You will never see any of my shitty, good-for-nothing comments ever again

Why they didn’t just block me on sight and decided to be assholes I don’t know. I guess to get a reaction- in which case they succeeded. This is just a giant reminder to block people if you don’t like them/what they have to say, instead of being a dick. It’s not cowardly. It’s to prevent situations just like this.

[torotoro0]

⟬ Childhood Comrades ⟭

Henry Creel x Reader

Chapter 1

[Click this for the chapters]

Summary: Born with the wealth anyone can just dream of. Big house, luxury cars, lots of toys, dresses, getting in rich schools, etc. Then a new neighbor came in, you plan to make friends with their children, but there's this one particular creepy kid that caught your attention.

A/N: I read a story like this. {idk how to tag(˘･_･˘) } Her fanfic inspired me to write one like hers( ◜‿◝ )♡

Word count: 1.3K words.

Summer break...

1959

Hawkins, Indiana 6:00 p.m.

It was summer break for your school, everyone was on vacation, leaving their houses for weeks, children's excited screams in your neighborhood, teens driving their cars, typical summer days.

You? lying on the sofa for God knows how long. Your family was branded as one of the richest people on the list, people nor police officers dare to speak ill behind your backs as they would face severe punishments in return.

"I heard we have a new neighbor coming today" I get up, "Oh, yes, yes, we do have, I heard they were also listed as a wealthy family too." Diane laughs.

"Shouldn't we give them a something as a welcoming gift?" She leans to my father.

After mother died, father has been collecting gold-digging sluts from around the town. Party here and party there. It seems that mother was the only one working for their relationship. Diane was the only one that stayed long and even considered me as her daughter.

"I'll come." I approach them. Diane looks at me.

"That's a very good idea, I'll bake them a cake while Y/N can give it to them!" she beams. I only volunteered to do this seeing that I have nothing to do in this hell hole.

{Holy Time Skip}

"Here" Diane hands me a home-made cake of hers. "Make sure to be polite to them ok?" She pats my head. Diane sure looks mesmerizing on the outside ,but, if I don't be careful, she can stab me in the back and all I know is that I am now in the streets begging for food and pennies.

"Sure, sure". I proceed to head to the designated target, their house was just 5 blocks from us, It was huge but not too huge that it'll surpass mine. ╰（‵□′）╯

The house was colored blue with white as the secondary color. It had a fancy parking lot, and a big backyard with a playground as the front yard.

~Ding, Dong~ ╰(*°▽°*)╯

"Oh? good evening darling" A woman appeared before me, most likely in her 30's.

She has a short auburn colored hair with a headband secured to it, wearing a baby blue dress that sways when a breeze comes by. Blue eyes that shimmers upon the moonlight.

"Are you okay little girl?" she waves her hands. "O-oh I'm sorry, this-" I show her the cake, "This is a welcoming gift from my..".

"My mom" I internally cringe as it left my mouth. "Oh thank you dear, this looks delicious, why don't you come in?" she opens the door wider. "Oh, no need Mrs. ?"

"Virginia, Virginia Creel" She shakes my hand. "No need for that Mrs. Creel" I chuckle.

"It's getting late, I just needed to give it to you" "Well- if you insist, but please visit us again, I'd love to introduce my children to you" She waves goodbye and closes the door.

↞•••••↠

"So how was it?" Father glances to me. "It was fine." I replied. "Give me the details" He flips a page of his newspaper.

"The lady that handled the cake was nice to me, she was so pretty." Diane chuckles. "Did she like my cake?". "She did, she looked so happy.."

"She looks like mothe-". Before I could even finish, ather intruded.

"Don't ever mention her in front of me" he grips my mouth along with my chin. Tears threaten to slide down my eyes but I won't let it, no one wants a person who just cries easily as babies does.

"Understand?" He tightens his hold. "Father-.. It hurts-" I stammer.

"DO.YOU.UNDERSTAND!" He retorted. Fucking bitch. I thought.

"Y-yes father" I quickly nod. "Go to your room before I do anything worse" he loosens his grip.

"Old fucking man has the guts to do that" I hissed as I run upstairs.

"You didn't have to do that hun" Diane consoled.

He has been like this ever since mother died, Whoever mentions her or even at least describes her in some way he'll get mad just like now.

I lie down my bed and slowly drift of to wonderland.

{Time Skip}

7:34 a.m.

Hawkins, Indiana. L/N Estate. {Note: Think of anything you want to wear but in the 1950's era dynamic}

I woke up in a good mood whilst what happened last night. I groggily stand up and made my way to clothe myself. I wore my usual attire in this hot summer.

I went down and was met with a sight of a bountiful breakfast. "Oh? Good Morning Y/N" Diane wipes her hands on her apron.

"Morning" I yawn. "Your Father went to a business trip". "What? why so sudden?" I scratch my head.

"Yes, I was also shocked that the office called last night, they said it was urgent" she says as she hands me a piece of bread. "Thanks" I really love it when Diane cooks for us, her food tastes like a 100 star restaurant. q(≧▽≦q)

"By the way.." She looks at me "Hm?"

"I have to go somewhere later, so you'll have to take care of yourself".

"Sure. But when will you be back?"

"I'll be home at 4 afternoon, make sure to eat ok?" I nod.

~~

"Goodbye" I wave. I continue to watch her as she disappears from my sight.

"I'm bored!" A girl's voice complained. "Then go play with your dolls" then a boy's voice chimes in. I peek through the thin hedges between the houses and saw two children. One playing with dolls and another one reading a book on a swing.

"Children.." I smirk.

I sneak behind the boy's back just to make sure he doesn't run away the moment he sees me.

"Hello" I pat the his shoulder. He turns around with a small frown plastered on his face.

"What's your name?" Damn, I sound like a kidnapper, I thought.

"Why would I tell you my name?" He raises one of his eyebrows. "My name is Y/N L/N, I live just 5 blocks from your house" I held out my hand but he refused it.

"You gave your name to an unknown stranger, how pathetic" he rolls his eyes. I gloom over how he couldn't just answer my DAMN QUESTION! I slowly retreat back to my house when he called for me.

"Henry" He uttered still looking at his book. "Henry Creel".

My eyes glimmer back as he answers, "Would you like to play with me!" I beamed as I approach him, "No".

"What's the book your reading?".

"None of your business"

"Can I get on the swing?"

"I got here first".

I finally made a friend.

A/N: part 2 coming soon😍

[peakyblindersxx]

whiskey buisness - john shelby x reader (part 5 of ?)

gif by my literal angel @michaelgreys who keeps blessing us like holy fuck

a/n: all i can say is that this is the hottest one yet. as always, my girl @stxdyblr-2k did an amazing job so i hope you all enjoy :) and i'm still working on requests, tysm for all of them!!

love, abi xxx

read part one two three four | my masterlist

tagging: @datewithgianni, @mayaslifeinabox, @deepdonutkid, @springsoulofengland

prompt: john just can't help himself when he sees you with someone else.

warnings: nsfw!!! smut, fluff, angst, light praise kink, john fucking adores you and spends a good amount of time with his head between your legs (yes i know!!!!!)

John had spotted you from across the London nightclub, his table tucked into the balcony area, perfectly positioned to survey the entire club. It'd been over a month since he laid eyes on you last. Sometimes, he wondered if it was possible for you to only get more beautiful every time he saw you. He wasn't surprised, as he'd been warned of your presence by Tommy, but he was unable to stop himself from staring at you, hair neatly styled, scarlet velvet dress clinging to every curve, red lipstick emphasizing your lips, a light haze of pink pressed into your cheekbones, lash-line expertly darkened with kohl. You were dancing with one of Isaiah's friends; the young man was tall and muscular -- a blinder foot soldier, John concluded, draining his glass of whiskey, flagging the waiter down for another.

The young lad was smiling down at you. John took a swig from his drink bitterly, the man obviously head over heels, his eyes bright, excitedly glancing from your lips to your figure. John could feel himself cringe; the younger man had all the subtlety and strategy of a malnourished dog. Then again, who could blame the lad? You were an absolute vision, twirling and giggling, off your face on something Michael had brought. John couldn't help but watch, wishing it was him who had caught your attention tonight, wanting to feel your breath fan across his neck, pulling away while you giggled at his blushing arousal; him whisking you to dark corners to steal a moment of quiet.

He'd tried to get over you but he couldn't. He'd been travelling a lot lately, business in Liverpool, Edinburgh and Belfast; yet in every woman who smiled at him, he found himself searching for you in their eyes, their smiles, their laugh. They were all gorgeous, but his heart simply wasn't in it.

Tonight had started off alright, normal Peaky activity. They'd seized the club only a few hours ago, gaining vital territory in London, bagging their place in the opiate trade and a successful business prospect in one fell swoop. By all accounts, John should’ve been happy, but he'd been too lost in his own mind lately to properly take in the consequences of those sleepless nights with the accounting books, all the hours practicing shooting and boxing, all the endless driving, the meetings, the lingering stench of death which clung to his family. Try as he might, he couldn't enjoy himself. His night got worse the second he spotted you; a yearning for you suddenly flooding his veins. It was easy to get on with life when you were hundreds of miles from him, but when you were a flight of stairs away? He knew the club had countless dark passages to hide away with you, multiple cloak rooms with thick brick walls to take you against: he had to stop his mind running wild. He couldn't. That had to be the last time. You were in his past, you had to stay there. But as he watched you dance with the blinder, he could feel the familiar burn of jealousy swell deep within him. The lad was far too close to you for his comfort, practically grazing his hips to yours. John roughly rubbed his jaw at the sight, silently seething to himself in the shadows.

Thomas studied his brother's body language, taking a slow drag of his cigarette, not understanding the fuss around you. Sure, you were pretty enough; you were bright, apparently funny, but you had never caught his attention really. He observed how John's eyes followed your every move, every sway of your hips closely watched as he held his breath, losing himself to you. He was glad he'd prompted Michael to invite you; this was the most attentive he'd seen John in a month. It was no coincidence that he'd dragged you away from Birmingham, from the watching eyes of the city locals, the wagging tongues in the assembly lines, far from Ada. Michael had admitted to Thomas that it was easy to persuade you, promising you a lift in his new car and a night out as Ada had plans with a gentleman. A night of dancing with your favourite lads and an all expenses paid trip to London? You couldn't resist.

John's jaw had tensed and squared, the man murmuring something against your neck causing you to giggle and grasp his collar. Thomas could tell his brother was practically bristling with jealousy. If looks could kill, the young man clinging to your hips would be long dead from the glare unleashed on him by the tallest Shelby brother.

"You gonna sit there useless or are you gonna fucking do something about it, eh?" Tommy inquired, nudging him with his shoulder.

"I can't."

"No one will know." Thomas pointed out, raising a brow, "The Blinders will say fuck all if they see owt. They keep quiet when it's about us Shelby brothers, yeah?"

John glanced at him, eyes slightly widened, confusion furrowing his brows. "You've changed your fuckin' tune."

"Sometimes, it's good to have secrets. What Ada doesn't know about the events of tonight won't hurt her."

"We don't do secrets. We're meant to trust each other." John objected. "We're a family."

"Nothing will change, John. I'll fix it for you, yeah? You've had a rough few weeks, you should reward yourself."

"She's not a fuckin’ prize, Tom."

"Keep talking that shit and people will get the wrong idea, think you love the woman or sommet." Thomas shrugged, taking a sip of his drink, while John's cheeks flared, his eyes flinching to the floor. He smirks to himself. "You going to go get your lass, then?"

John replied wordlessly, standing and downing the rest of his drink, pulling on his suit jacket, straightening his collar. "I'll catch you later, Tom."

********

The lad was nice, his name had long disappeared into the fog of liquor and Tokyo. He was someone's cousin, but he was polite; charming, almost. Most importantly, he wasn't related to your best friend. Not quite a Casanova type like John, but you two were a good match, everyone thought so. You'd seen him a few times now over the past week. He wasn't much of a talker, but he was a good dancer, and sweet after a few pints.

The band started playing a slower song, Isaiah dancing chest to chest with a beautiful girl across from you. You felt your partner place his fingers on the small of your back, his fingers inching lower, pulling you in closer before the two of you were interrupted by a dark figure looming over you.

"Can I cut in, mate?" A strong Birmingham accent sliced through the air, voice low and polite enough, but with a tone that was laced with venom. "Or are you gonna be a dick about it?"

The lad glanced nervously between you two, moving his hands away from you, embarrassed to be caught by his boss in this state, John staring him down. You slowly pulled away from him, turning to face John.

"Or you could ask me to dance yourself, John?"

John silently glared back at you, his mouth tensed into a thin line. He looked momentarily embarrassed, his attention switching back to your dance partner, the rest of lads silently watching, breaths baited, ready to jump in on the action if the moment required it.

"I'm heading off mate, reckon she's a cocktease." Your partner comments, attempting to diffuse the tension, stepping away, not wanting a fight or to piss off his boss. His path was quickly blocked by another blinder. You shot him an apologetic look and took the large hand John was offering you.

"Or, she's just not interested in you," John quipped, smirking, locking his fingers through yours. "You gonna go get your coat while I finish up with your best mate?"

"Thought we were dancing?"

"You can dance as much as you like in the suite, yeah? Proper gramophone. You coming?"

"You just want me on my own."

"Just tired of the distractions." He told you pointedly, skimming his glare over the group of men, standing with baited breath, preparing for it to kick off.

You rolled your eyes but squeezed his hands, slowly heading to the cloakroom, chatting with the attendant as you watched John confront the lad, keeping your distance. His arms were clutching the lad's lapels, snarling in his face before pushing him back. Michael watched from a few steps away, smoking absentmindedly, spine pressed to a pillar, leaving his cousin to sort out whatever offense he believed the man had caused.

You bundled yourself up in your thin coat, a gift from one of the girls you hung around with as she had recently married a blinder and was being spoiled rotten. The coat's flimsy material was going to be useless against the London night. At least you could count on John to keep you warm on the walk back to the hotel. You headed towards the side door, John's hand quickly finding your lower back protectively as he fell into step beside you. He opened the heavy wooden doors for you, the cold air an instant relief from the heat of the nightclub. You turned back as the door closed, catching a glimpse of the boys closing in on the lad, their eyes gleaming with a violent hunger for action.

"He'll be alright. Daft prick just getting put in his place." John said flatly. He seemed bored but watched you anxiously, begging you with his eyes to drop the subject.

"Is the hotel close by?" You asked casually, as the frigid air swirled around your calves, instantly causing you to shiver.

"I'll get us a cab, love, can't have you in those heels trekking halfway across London town." He stepped fearlessly into the road, unbothered about any potential danger or just forgetful from the whiskey. Quickly, a dark cab pulled up to the cobblestone pavement and John helped you in, taking off his coat and wrapping it around your shoulders before climbing in after you.

As the engine started and the car made its way through London's dimly lit streets to Camden, John's hand found its way to your thigh. You glanced at him, his eyes looking away but his thumb angled against his teeth. He was nervous, having not touched you in a month. You crossed your legs, angling them towards him, his hand shifting higher up your thighs, taking a deep sigh of relief. Your hands found his chin in the gloom of the back of the car, only the occasional bright lights from a nightlife hub or the demure lights of a residential illuminating his face, the angles changing as the cab drove on. It was too much. You'd been needing this for the past month, needing him. Your hands laced around the back of his head and you pressed your lips to his for a brief moment, allowing John to pull you deeper into the kiss. It awoke something familiar inside you, something comforting. Kissing John erased all your homesickness. Christ, you had to stop thinking like this.

"You've not been about for a bit, sweetheart. I know we said never again, but I was hoping you'd come by," John muttered, forehead pressed to yours, breath mingling with yours as he spoke.

"I almost did. The amount of times I nearly visited your office.. I just couldn't do that to you or Ada. Besides, last I heard, you were on tour." You admitted, keeping your voice down to save the cab driver the embarrassment. John caressed your cheekbone with his thumb, tracing the corner of your mouth, prompting a grin from you.

"Last place on earth I'd expected to see you next, it's been hectic my end," He sighed. His eyes were outlined with deep purple smudges of exhaustion, yet he was still devastatingly beautiful even after all the sleepless nights. "It's been too long."

"Not my fault you've been hiding yourself away. You should've called."

"Blame Tommy for that. His solution seems to be sending me on business trips. Trying to make me too tired to handle you." A nervous lick of his lips revealed John’s response to the suggestion that he call you. He wanted to say he would ring next time, but there couldn't be a next time.

"You can barely handle me on a good day, Mr. Shelby."

"Can't blame me. You seen yourself? On the brink as soon as I see you, lass." He teased, earning a gentle shove to the shoulder as you quickly pressed a kiss underneath his chin. You wanted to bring up Thomas' threat, but you bit your tongue, nudging his shin with the toe of your heel in the back of the cab. He rolled his eyes, grabbing your wrists lightly. "Behave yourself in front of the nice cabbie, sweetheart."

You soften at his touch, unable to resist reaching to interlock your fingers, squeezing his hands in yours affectionately. The spirits your table had been bringing you all night definitely boosted your confidence, any hesitancy due to potential rejection drowned out. John pressed his lips to your knuckles in response. He seemed different tonight, far more protective and serious than usual. He was so quiet it was strange, usually yapping your ear off, desperate for you to react, treating him to a giggle, a middle finger or a cutting response. You'd also never witnessed him spark off due to someone's interaction with you. Finn had mentioned a week or so back that John had a shouting match with Thomas and in the moment, your name got thrown up in the conversation, resulting in John taking a swing at his big brother out of frustration. It was confusing. He was willing to start fights over you, punch his brother, yet when you two were alone he was uncomfortably quiet, studying you, lost in his thoughts. His silence only made your body long for him, his fingers tracing patterns in your inner thigh. You let out a small whimper into the crook of his neck, as he instinctively pressed a kiss to your shoulder.

The car pulled up outside the hotel, your pulse racing, the anticipation already threatening to make you give in completely to his wishes tonight. You waited as he turned up his collar against the rain, clambering out of the car to open your door, creatively arranging the coat to hover just above both your heads protecting you from the miserable weather. Although John had referred to the building as a hotel, you could instantly tell the manor was some aristocrat's third or fourth home, obviously being rented out or gifted to business partners for trips. It was an imposing grey stone building, exquisitely carved, although not a country estate, the house was just as large. Was John used to this? It hit you all of a sudden that you'd never set foot inside John's home. You'd heard from Ada that it was overrun with hoards of screaming children. She often joked with the children at the Shelby Institute that if they hung around long enough at John's, he'd assume they were one of his offspring. You'd only ever fucked him in a guest bed. The shame made your stomach churn.

You needed to remind yourself of this when your late night thoughts ran rampant. John could say what he liked, but he'd never actually allow you to get overly personal with him. Whatever confusing mess was winding around your skull regarding him was useless; it was best not to think about it. You went to him every time, yet he would've picked another lass tonight, it was just that you were there. He probably had a string of gorgeous women, older, more accomplished, more experienced, more elegant. He could tell you he missed you, but you could never take for granted that he told you this for any other reason than as a prelude to get you in bed with him. You were his gorgeous mess, but only for the night. It was best to remind yourself to care less than he did. It was the easiest solution in the long term; this way, the downfall would be less brutal.

"You alright, love?" He asked suddenly, breaking your train of thought.

"Sorry, I was thinking about work."

He lived around his brothers for long enough, he could smell bullshit. He decided to let it go. It was best to not push it tonight. Just keep it light hearted, easy, like it was always meant to be.

"If your boss keeps being a prick, you tell Ada. She'll sort him out."

"Don't I know it? He can barely open the door before she starts on about workplace ethics." You joked, earning a small smile instead of his usual bright chuckle. "John, what are we doing here?"

"Well I'm about to take you upstairs and sort you out, yeah? You gonna let me look after you?" He asked, stopping you in your tracks by turning you into him, grabbing your wrist.

"You know that isn't what I meant."

"I know. But can we leave it tonight? Can we just have fun?" He questioned, lips ghosting over yours, fixing you with an intense stare.

"It's fun anymore." Your voice cracked, the liquor in your system making it impossible to control your tone or your facial expressions. "It's fucking with my head, John."

"It's just.. fucking difficult. It's fucking difficult because of who we are." He replied firmly but dropped his makeshift coat shelter around your shoulders, freeing his hands to grab your face pulling it to his, the alcohol making him far needier than he usually appeared. "You, my beautiful Y/N, are a fucking losing game. It's not as easy for me, I can't just dance with a woman and get a leg over-"

"I never said you couldn't."

"I know, I.." He gestured vaguely, lifting one of his hands off your cheeks, and you can feel your head nodding in understanding. "You know, I thought I was going to manage it this time. That I wouldn't be a total fuck up, but then you and that lad-"

"Catch you getting jealous over me."

"Fuck off." He let go of you for a split second but you reeled him back in, resting your palms on the chest of his shirt, the soaked material sticking to his skin. You'd struck a nerve. You decided to push him further.

"I don't know what you're trying to do, Mr. Shelby, disappearing across the country for weeks then coming back and telling me you want me all to yourself?" You played with his collar, tugging his face to yours before pulling back at the last possible second, causing him to let out a frustrated groan, hands itching to feel you underneath them.

"Don't fucking wind me up," He snapped, the intensity between you rekindled momentarily.

"It's worked wonders in the past," You replied, barely able to finish your sentence before his mouth was on yours, his fingers tangling into your hair, kissing you properly. Although you'd kissed so many times prior, this one felt so genuine, as though unleashed from its restraints deep within John. You'd never kissed anyone in the rain before in the middle of the night, and it felt magical. You were shivering but hot all over, burning for John to do something, anything. You could feel his cock through his dress pants, hard against you, prompting you to moan into his mouth.

"Fuck’s sake, Y/N," John grunted into your ear, his hands grabbing at your arse. "You're fuckin’ killing me here. I need you, yeah?"

"Tell me how badly." You responded coyly, linking your arms around his neck, ignoring the late night drizzle.

"I'd rather show you. M’gonna take care of you tonight, make up for the month I've been gone."

"Who's saying I've not been taking care of myself?'

He bit his lip in frustration, trying to stop his mind running wild with the image of you in bed, fingers between your thighs, breasts moving as you arched your back, hips lifting off the mattress, moaning as you called his name -- his jaw clenched. "I know what you're doing. You coming up before you catch a chill?"

You shifted your weight away from him, as if considering your options. He knew your answer; you both knew in a few minutes you'd be upstairs practically tearing his shirt off, needing his skin against yours, begging for him. John pulled away from you, dragging you up the winding path to the front door of the manor, opening the door for you, arm wrapping around your waist. His lips met yours, then your collarbones and neck, prompting a breathy giggle and whine as you wound yourself back around him, craving the contact. The manor was plunged in darkness, staff somewhere in the gloom. Your arrival had definitely been noted, but as with everyone who worked for the Shelbys, they just left you to it. It was easier to not get involved, to keep their heads down and not mention the midnight trysts the brothers got up to.

John knew his path, he'd stayed here before. Even in the dark you could tell the house was decorated to spare no expense, the gaudy paintings and sculptures casting strange shadows. He led you up the grand flight of stairs, then another.

"Worse than Thomas' estate, this place." You murmured quietly, unsure of other guests within earshot.

"I could never live like this. I'd never see my brood again. Getting them ready for bed would be one hell of a nightmare." He whispered back, halting your stride by pulling your hips to his, unable to wait any longer.

"John, what if we get caught?" You asked, pressing your hand against his chest with your palm flat.

"Never bothered you before. Thought you liked the fact that anyone could just walk in and see what a pretty little mess you’ve made for me."

You couldn’t help yourself from pressing an affectionate kiss to his mouth, letting him lay you down and pin you to the stairs, the luxuriously thick carpets scraping into your flesh. He cursed under his breath at the sight of you underneath him, pushing your dress up your thighs, lifting your legs to wrap around his neck, pressing a kiss to your flimsy underwear, glancing up to drink you in. The most beautiful woman in his city, begging for him, figure swamped by his coat, rain soaked and shivering, his mouth between her thighs. He ran his tongue slowly across your clothed core, your pleading moans music to his ears, loving how your thighs tightened around his neck. His tongue traced circles over your clit and labia, the friction generated by the lace of your panties pushing you further, your hands knotting into his hair, spine arching against his mouth.

"No one been looking after you while I was gone. eh?" He asked, pressing kisses to your inner thigh, tugging your panties to the side. "What about your dancing pal?"

"Fuck’s sake, I barely know him, John." You snapped back, teetering on the edge between lust and frustration from his relentless teasing.

"Keep it that way. You don't need ‘im, lass, not while I'm about." He replies before lapping at your slit, interpreting your moans as approval as your head slumped back and you released a low groan. "Y/N, watch me, yeah?"

You pull yourself weakly upwards, propping yourself up in your elbows to be able to look down the staircase at John between your legs in the dark. The view was thrilling, moonlight shining in through the rain on the window, illuminating his face, hair messy and tongue flickering across your clit while he stared up at you, his eyes darkened with lust. You couldn't help but pant, knowing you'd be returning to this moment alone at night, when it was your fingers instead of John's tongue pushing you towards the edge.

"So fuckin' wet and ready for me, aren’t you?" He crooned, sliding his fingers into you, sucking at your clit between flicks of his tongue.

You couldn’t find the words to respond, whimpers leaving your mouth instead, your hips lifting beneath his palms, chest heaving.

"Go on, use your words, clever lass."

"John, fuck.. don't stop," You manage to string together, thoughts too muddled by alcohol and arousal to play hard to get any longer.

"I won't ‘til you cum in my mouth. Need to taste you again, beautiful."

Your head jerked back suddenly as John curled his fingers inside you, pushing up against the spot that made you lose your mind, his name falling from your lips like a prayer, all he could hear except from his blood rushing in his head. Your desperate cries for relief caused his cock to strain against his dress pants, fighting the urge to sort himself out, needing to finish you off. John needed to prove that he could fuck you better than anyone else. He knew he was pushing you to the edge, but he wasn't going to deny you your orgasm. He wanted to make a point with this. His fingers worked faster, his mouth hungry for you, lips moving against your core at a harsh pace.

You groaned loudly, hips bucking involuntarily just to be forced back against the carpet of the staircase. Your breaths grew heavier, warning him how close you were to your peak. John refused to let up, pushing you closer every second, lips latched to your core firmly, lapping up the wetness he'd produced.

"I want to watch you finish." He commanded, you completely at his will now that you'd lost control, lifting your head upwards with the little strength you had left to be able to stare down at his dilated blue eyes. "Good girl. You gonna show me how good I make you feel? You gonna cum for me, doll?"

You couldn't respond, unable to keep your eyes from rolling backwards as you felt yourself suddenly release, John’s name escaping from between your lips, legs shuddering around his neck. He let you ride it out on his tongue, tasting you desperately, watching your expression slowly relax.

Finally, he pulled away from your cunt, unwrapping your legs from his neck. He grabbed your wrist, not letting you retrieve your panties, stuffing them into his trouser pocket. He returned his attention to tracing your slit with the index finger and thumb of his other hand, as he pressed a long kiss to your lips.

"I love how you taste," He murmured against your lips, causing you to flush slightly. John noticed, pressing kisses to your jawbone. "Don't get shy on me now. I've barely started with you. Not even got you to the suite and you've already cum."

He looked so proud of himself, it suddenly clicked for you. He was trying to prove himself to you, for some unknown reason. You know he was protective and quite obviously jealous tonight, but you couldn't believe that John Shelby felt the need to prove that he knew what he was doing, as though you weren't aware. You weren't trekking to his office for mediocre sex. Tonight he let you finish first, no teasing, no denial, no fucking about. Just putting his ability fully on show, so when your mind went drifting it'd go back to him, not some young lad who barely knew what he was doing. His cocky attitude and smug acceptance of his sexual prowess would've been off-putting if it was anyone else, but John, but with his bright smile and constant humour, pulled it off. It was enticing, making your core pool with wetness when he crossed your mind.

"A month is far too long, Mr. Shelby."

"I know, you're practically drooling over me." He teased. He seems a lot more himself than before. He’d been too caught up in his head, too focused on getting you off to enjoy the flirting and teasing. John loved how light-hearted he could be with you. Despite the mess you were both in, it was making you laugh or roll your eyes that soothed his mind. Honestly, if it was just sex he'd have cut you off instantly; he wouldn't have even gone there out of loyalty to Ada. Admittedly, it was your company and presence that had him absolutely on his knees for you, the way he felt understood, less alone in his brother's bullshit, less trapped by his criminal career because you understood. You always had a cutting line, a bright smile just for him, an eye roll at his brothers' daft plans, a choice curse word for Thomas. He didn't even want to consider what would happen after the night ended. He stood, pressing another kiss to your lips as he helped you to your feet, fixing his coat which hung off your shoulders.

"You ready for rounds two through to six?"

"John, you know you won't get through three with me."

"You’re right, you're just too pretty when you’re riding my cock." He teased, the vulgar material of his jibe earning him a joking shove before you curl into his side, letting him escort you up the stairs to the nearest bedroom. He quickly shut the door behind you, scooping you up in his arms, causing you to let out a laugh as he practically tossed you onto the king sized bed, eyes shining with adoration as he looked down at you grinning back up at him.

“You’re something else, John Shelby.”

[mynameispuppy]

Talking in Summer chapter 1

Hello! this is my first fanfic in years, I plan on continuing it for a while. I put information about reader’s quirk and such in my first post. 

                                                  enjoy!

As I start to fold some plain colored tees I let out a sigh, I've been on my feet all day and I can't wait to just go home and relax. An old friend of mine suggested me to the manager here at superdry© in the mall. I'm grateful to have a job but I wish I could be working closer to my goals....

Since I turned 18 and left high school my life has been just a blob heading in no particular direction.

"Hey (y/n) looks like it's 7 are you ready to take a 15?" I hear my co-worker call out to me from the front desk. "Oh- yeah sure" I politely smile back at her, she was always looking out for me with breaks and such.

After gathering my stuff I head to the nearly empty dining area in the mall. 'Only one hour left' I state in my head while I take a bite of my sandwich. I look around and spot nothing particularly of interest.

Except one person.... Next to the center fountain sits a man

I see him quite often in the evening

He's thin with strikingly white hair and dark clothing. When I first started to notice him showing up, I speculated he worked in the mall since he was there almost on a schedule, but the more I look at his appearance and the fact he has no uniform I assume he may be homeless or just doesn't have anything to do.... 'Maybe I should stop judging people so much' Old habits die hard I guess.

Looking at my phone the screen lights up '7:15... Good timing (y/n)' I shuffle around and grab my things. Looking back one last time the white haired man seems to have left. 'Oh well'

The rest of my shift flies by mostly because I just get to sit here and talking to Yume, my co-worker, while we clean up the store.

Just like clock work I head home at 8pm. Taking the evening tram about 3 blocks away and then walking the rest of the way.

I climb the steps to my apartment and stumble inside taking off my shoes and running over to my shiki futon shoved between my closet and bookshelf.

I try to check up on my social media a bit and check on things but my eyes quickly grow heavy "I guess it's been a while since I slept huh?" I chuckle to myself. Plugging in my phone I roll over and decide to sleep.

                                                ❁     ❁     ❁

The next morning is hot, around 33°C, so I decide to wear some comfortable, breathable clothes like my beige plaid skirt and a v-neck white shirt. The outfit reminds me of my old school uniform 'why not go all in then...' I figure and do pigtails aswell.

The trip to work is boring and repetitive. I wish something would spice things up...even a little. At least I get off early today.

I walk up to the big red sign of the shop and proceed in placing my bag behind the counter and sitting down.

Customers will come in check out a jacket or two and leave.

I finally get snapped out of my trance when hear my phone alarm go off "hm?" I reach down and realize I must've set an alarm for break without remembering. 'Maybe I'll go get some (favorite drink) I'm not particularly hungry this morning', grabbing my wallet I make sure my manager is all set before heading out. I take a quick little stroll under the open roof of the mall as I approach the brown fake wooden "drink shack" shop.

When I enter I see that it's still kinda slow since it's the morning hours except a couple people sitting in the back. After getting my drink I decide to head to the middle of the shop where I see a brown haired man sitting at the back bar and that same white haired man sitting at a booth.

I drink my (favorite drink) while keeping my locked gaze on the habitual man for a creepily long time. I was still tired out from my quirk so I must've been zoning out for a second too long...

He looks up at my line of sight and makes direct eye contact. 'I've never seen his eyes before... Red huh? Creepy.' I think to myself while he looks around him probably trying to see what I'm staring at. I try to fix the awkward situation by giving him a little wave but he just shoves his head back down into whatever paper he's scribbling across.

'sigh'

'you know what why not just get up and walk over there he could be a new friend'

I blush at the idea of being so bold I've never been particularly loud or extroverted before. But almost as if my embarrassment and body weren't even in tune I find myself approaching the man. I almost collapse on the booth seat across from him my legs shaking and hands in a clammy cold sweat clutching my drink. "......do..yo-you work here?" I force the conversation out trying to seem confident. His red glare slowly makes its way to my face "AT THE MALL I MEAN!" That came out louder than intended....I can feel my face get hot from all the cringe building up inside my body.

"Why are you bothering me." The words were scratchy and seem to cut out of his throat blunt and awkward. I start to wiggle uncomfortably realizing the humiliating situation I put this stranger and myself in.

"I apologize, I see you around here a lot I thought you may have noticed me." I squeeze out while looking at the table slowly scooting out of the booth.

"Right..." He trails "you work at that clothing shop next to the fountain."

I perk up a bit I guess he did take note of me. "W- yes I do," I stand up and bow "it's a pleasure to meet you officially." I scramble to be polite and smooth the situation over. "Yeah." He seems to be done with me so I nervously spit out "Well feel free to say hi anytime!" before turning back to the shop since my break was over.

I get scolded by your manager for being a bit late. But overall I'm over the moon proud of my confidence, maybe this won't turn out so bad even if he decides to decline your offer.

Quickly finishing up my last few hours of work since I only had a 4 hour shift today and decide to do some window shopping at the mall before leaving looking at other clothing shops and game stores.I had taken a study break from games, but since I have graduated, I've been trying to catch up by skipping sleep thanks to my quirk. Sadly I still find myself exhausted. Nothing catches my eye so I decide to head out.

Taking a stroll around town it's still quite sunny at 1pm, I decide to head to the park next to the local high school. A place I used to frequent a lot. Checking out my phone I see the headlines and new articles everyone seems to be in a frantic state "Destruction and mayhem..." I let slip under my breath while rolling my eyes.

This is why I want to be a veterinarian, actually be helpful. I always feel like heroes and cops are one in the same... Useless. While I start to bask in the sun I start hear squabbling between two males but their faces are blocked by the thick park trees. Leaning over I notice that one of them ran off. Spotting some oddly familiar shoes as the second person starts to walk into view.

To save myself any more staring embarrassment I quickly go back to closing my eyes at the sun only to feel the Bench's weight shift under my bottom. 'Someone is sitting next to me'. I take a peek and see the crusty pale man from the mall. "Hello?" I state looking for a response. With scrunched eyes he looks over at me and makes eye contact. 'he must not get out often' I think to myself.

"Fancy seeing you here" I chuckle to try and start a conversation. "Yeah." He rasps. 'is that all he knows how to say? What a weirdo maybe I shouldn't have approached him' I think before trying again at entertain him "Thank you accepting my of-ffer" stumbling at the end scared I might be annoying him. "Mmm" he grunts.

You're definitely annoying him.

"Do you want my number?" My words break out of my lips like water in a dam

'jeez why don't you just stalk him at this point' scolding myself.

"What makes you think I do." His words offend me in an odd way. "Well I just figured maybe we could become acquainted better that way...maybe?" Even I seem unsure of what I'm saying. Without another word he slaps his unlocked phone in my lap, hurrying to put my number in under (y/n) (l/n). "Feel free to text me anytime, I gotta head out." I say, I don't really need to leave but I'm pretty sure if I'm here any longer all my embarrassment is going to make me crumble.

bowing politely I turn to leave. "Hey." My head spins around to see the scrubby man now standing and looking at his phone, "Bye.", he nods at me before turning off and leaving as well. 'what a blunt man he must not have a lot of friends.... Oh There I go again judging I should really quit'. I seem to be filled with excitement though. Meeting new people is a rush I haven't had the pleasure of feeling in a while. I feel myself smiling all the way home.

[yurtletheturtlehenderson]

The Tug || Stan U. x Fem?Reader

Requested: @trash-mouthlover Could you do a cute soulmate au with good ol Stan the man. If not that's cool too. P.s. your writings are amazing!

A//N: Absolutely! I love Stan the man! I will always love my sassy little noodle-head boi. I AM SO SORRY IT TOOK SO LONG!!! P.s. thank you, you are so sweet! After a lot of searching I finally decided on this soulmate au:

-You can feel a tug from wherever your soulmate is. These may either be automatic or have stronger tugs whenever your soulmate is in distress.

Also, while writing this, it actually started to morph into a Bev x reader without realizing and I had to steer it back on track 😂 Also, going back and reading it, I’m realizing there is almost no interaction between Stan and the reader and for that I apologize, this is the first time writing a soulmate au and I quickly realized, I’m not that good at it. Also, I’m probably gonna make a part two at some point to make up for the lack of Stan x Reader.

Pairings: Stan Uris x Fem!Reader    <btw, the whole fem!reader is only on one small technicality and that was because reader uses the girls bathroom. But technically you can read it as any gender considering they didn’t exactly have gender neutral bathrooms so it can be read as either way I believe>

Warnings: Some cursing. Henry Bowers being creepy for like two seconds. Greta being mean and throwing literally ONE homophobic slur. It felt in character but I still didn't enjoy writing it and might take it out later.

{EDITED AS OF 6•17•19}

Summer break.

Fucking finally.

You forgot how angelic the final bell was on the last day of school. You were gladly swept along the ocean of kids into and down the hallway until you found yourself in front of your locker.

Entering the code you've done mindlessly so for the past 9 months for the final time. The metal door swung open and hit the adjoining lockers with a rather obnoxious clang that was drowned out by the crowd in the hallway. Given that your bus wouldn't show up for another twenty minutes, you knew you were in no hurry so you took your time emptying out your lockers contents. Having learned your lesson from last year, you had brought a spare plastic grocery bag for trash. You had just finished separating the trash and were now putting the rest of your belongings into your bag when you couldn't help but overhear a snippet of conversation from some passing boys in the hallway.

"Yeah, and I think the rabbi's gonna pull down your pants, turn to the crowd and say, 'Where's the beef?'"

With a curious frown, you froze and looked over your shoulder to see the infamous Richie, the trashmouth Tozier. Oh, you were definitely familiar with him. With a small shake of the head, you rolled your eyes and smiled. You closed your locker, swung your backpack over your shoulder and made your way to the girls room.

Of course, the traffic in the hall was still pretty congested so you found yourself a few feet behind Richie and his friends. Anxious to get to the bathroom, yet, as usual, there seemed to be absolutely no wiggle room to squeeze by leaving you no option but to trail behind them awkwardly unintentionally overhearing their conversation. You only saw the backs of their heads and you took an educated guess of who's who. To his right was a blonde boy, just a little taller than Richie, who you assumed to be Bill Denbrough. You frowned at the thought.

Poor boy.

Derry was a relatively small town, or at least small enough for word to travel fast. And the strange passing of his little brother Georgie was no exception. Everyone heard about that. To his right, the tallest boy, who was wearing a kippah, began speaking.

"At the Bar Mitzvah, I read from the Torah, and then I make a speech and suddenly I become a man."

Having been previously staring at your shoes, you nervously look up when you get the sudden feeling of being watched. Your eyes hastily dart up and you curse yourself under your breath when you see the cold dark eyes of Henry Bowers and his posse look you up and down.

No longer feeling safe, you quickly return your gaze to the floor, tighten your grip on your backpack straps and push past the boys. Unintentionally shoving them aside, a pang of guilt passes over you and you quickly turn your head back and throw a quick "sorry" their way.

You visibly relaxed when you reached the safety of the long hallway of the girls bathroom.

What you saw made your face scrunch up in confusion, there was a pair of girls standing around but the suspicious thing was one of them was filling up the trash bag from the garbage can up with water in the sink. Deciding staying out of it was your best option you kept to yourself and walked into one of the unoccupied stalls. The smell of a burning cigarette filled your senses and you couldn't help but cringe.

You had just done your business and done what you needed to do, you were just about ready to pull open the stall door when you heard an angry grunt followed by the sound of someone kicking the nearby stall. You froze out of instinct.

"Are you in there by yourself, Beaver-ly? Or do you have half the guys in the school with you, huh, slut? I know you're in there, little shit. I can smell you."

You frowned. You wanted to say something, but Greta was ruthless and you didn't what to say. You felt ashamed for sitting there, doing nothing.

"Which is it, Greta? Am I a slut or a little shit? Make up your mind." You couldn't help but smile at that. Good for her.

"You're trash."

Thump.

Oh, no.

Now you understood why the girl had been filling up the garbage.

You hastily opened the door to do something, not knowing what yet. You came out just in time to see the other girl standing on the neighbor toilet dumping the trash bag full of water into Beverly's stall.

"Hey! Get out of here! Leave the poor girl alone!" You yell, livid.

"A bit late to defend your girlfriend, you dirty little dike." She spit in your direction causing you to jump back in disgust.

The three girls laughed and strutted out of the bathroom.

It was quiet for a moment and you walked to stall Beverly was still in.

You two knew each other. You weren't exactly friends, but you didn't hate each other or anything. You were acquaintances.

Until now.

You softly knocked on the stall and asked in a quiet voice.

"Hey, you need any help?"

+++

You were glad you made friends with Beverly Marsh. She was kind and funny and the two of you had a lot more in common than you'd realized. Of course, the time came for you to catch your bus and the two of you parted ways, not before making plans to hang out later of course.

You made your way onto the crowded bus for the final time and took a seat in your regular spot and got out your walkman and pressed play, turning off your brain. Many bus stops later you found yourself in your regular routine. You rounded the familiar corner of your neighboring street, only two blocks away from your house when it happened.

That tug.

The one everyone talked about. Bragged about even.

Sure a couple of times you thought you felt it, or the ghost of the tug. But this time you were sure.

It wasn't the good tug either, it was the rapid, frantic tug. It made your heart flutter. Were they okay? You'd heard stories of a soulmate being in distress, but it never felt like this. It was frantic and the pull was in every direction at once. It caused your own heart to thud rapidly against your chest. Once again you felt helpless. But what could you do? You didn't even know who your soulmate was.

Unable to think about anything else, you let your feet carry you home as your worried mind conjured endless scenarios. Anything that could possibly explain what the hell was happening. To your great relief, it gradually relaxed. Lulled into a soft but present tug.

They were safe. For now.

+++

A few days later, you finally were able to meet up with Beverly. She had insisted on going out and doing literally anything other than staying inside. When you stopped by her house and had a rather unpleasant greeting from her father you immediately understood why. The two of you were content with walking around town, and when she mentioned she needed to stop by the drug store you obliged. Naturally, you told her about the tug from the other day and she listened intently, invested in the conversation and offering advice as friends do. Which you greatly appreciated.

"I know, right? I'm glad you think so, I was starting to think I was paranoid or maybe I, I don't know..." You trailed off when you noticed two boys in the alleyway, one of them looked to be pretty bloodied up.

"Hey, why don't you go inside and get your supplies, I'll meet you out here? Sound good?" She looked confused but seemed to understand you had a good reason.

"Oh, uh, yeah. Sure thing." She smiled and headed inside, the ring of the store bell echoing.

Your eyes never broke contact with the boys in the alley and you walked toward them to offer help.

Upon closer examination, or rather being within earshot, you realized it was none other than Richie Tozier."Glad I got to meet you before you died." He said awkwardly standing above the bloodied up kid who was sitting on a crate.

You recognized the kid. It was the new kid, Ben. You remembered him from math class. He was a sweet kid.

"Alright, now just what did you do to him, Tozier?" You called out teasingly, grabbing the attention of the two young boys.

Richie's eyes bugged out behind his big glasses before he quickly recovered.

"Oi! Wassen' me I'm tellin ya!" He squeaked in awkward accent.

"Yikes! That accent needs a little work there, Tozier."You winked and turned to the bleeding boy before you could catch the offended look from Richie.

"Ben, right?"

He nodded.

"[Y/N]. Nice to meet ya." You two shared a polite but genuine smile.

You crouched down to meet his eye level, and sat on one leg."So, I'm just gonna assume that you that there actually IS someone who can help? You are aren't just letting yourself bleed out in some alley with this douche, right?" You said with a crooked smile, gesturing with your thumb to the speckled boy in a Hawaiian shirt.

You and Richie had known each other for a couple months. You two were the only ones who could keep each other sane during social studies class. Friendly banter was not uncommon between you two.

"Y-Yeah, they went inside," Ben spoke up.

"May I?" I gesture to his injury to take a look and he obliges.

You gently straighten out his shirt to examine the injury and it doesn't take too long to notice the three deep gashes that form an "H" on his stomach. You press your lips into a firm line, sighing, meeting the poor boy's eye.

"Bowers, huh?" You said quietly.

"Yeah." He admits quietly.

"Yeah, he is a real prick." You mumbled, terrified to say such things even when he's nowhere around.

Suddenly, you thought you felt a gentle tug in the center of your chest and your attention was quickly snatched at the sound of the drug store bell ringing rapidly. You heard a cluster of hurried footsteps and you stood to your feet turning in the direction of the noise to see two of three boys scurrying down the alley carrying a bunch of supplies.

You recognized the boys to be one the very same ones from school the other day. You could only name one, and that was Bill, although he seemed hesitant to walk over. It seemed he was more interested in something just outside the alley.

"I'm assuming you guys are the medical team I've heard so much about. Great response time." You quipped sending a smile.

The shortest one, who was carrying all the supplies was focused only on tending to Ben, which you dubbed a good thing.

"Why do you have two fanny packs?" You asked.

"I don't want to get into it right now, who are you anyway?"

"Y/N. I noticed Ben here in the alley, you know, bleeding out. And I figured, I better come rescue him from the company or Tozier, here." You smirk, and earning a glare and a snide comment from Richie.

Soon enough, the attention redirects itself back to Ben's wound. Richie starts yelling at the boy tending to Ben, who you learned his name to be Eddie, and Eddie argues back.

"You gotta suck the wound dry before applying the band aids. This is 101."

"You don't know what you're talking about."

"Yeah, that's the stupidest thing I've ever heard." You snort, and seem to have earned a chuckle from the other boy.

You were about to turn and introduce yourself when you heard a familiar voice.

"Are you okay? That looks like it hurts."

"Bev, there you are!" You stand up and make room for Eddie to tend to Ben.

You take a few steps back and stand next to the girl. It was then you made eye contact with Bill. He had a hint of recollection.

"[Y-Y/n], r-r-right?"

You smile politely.

"The one and only. Nice to meet you... Bill?" You asked his name, confidently, but asked anyway not wanting to seem weird.

He nodded and you took your hand out of your pocket for a brief moment to shake hands with the tallest boy.

"And I'm sorry, I don't believe we've met?" You asked politely.

The tallest boy stood still, almost in a daze of some sort and you frowned slightly, pulling your hand back hesitantly.

You looked around at the other boys in confusion. "Did- Did I say something, or-?"

Richie waltzed over, with the largest, shit-eating grin you had ever seen and placed his arm around the boy's shoulder shaking him slightly.

"Oh, no! Don't be silly! Ol' Stan the Man here loses his shit when he sees somethin' he likes." With that same shit-eating grin, he looked you in the eyes, raising his eyebrows suggestively.

You quirked an eyebrow and chuckled softly. "Excuse me?"

Before Richie could answer, the boy, Stan you presumed, spoke up, elbowing Richie in the process.

"Can it, Richie."

He sighed and straightened himself out as he looked back to you, awkwardly sticking out his hand to shake yours. "Stan Uris."

You smiled warmly and reached out to take his hand. "[Y/N] [L/N]."

The two of you froze when you simultaneously felt the same tug, the strongest you had ever felt, the one your parents gushed about, and you two shared a look. Silently agreeing not to bring it to attention and save it for later you two smiled at each other and turned to the poor kid who was still getting patched up. Although you couldn't help the blush that rivaled Stan's.

You made a mental note to ask him what happened to him the other day...

Bev directed her attention to the Ben, they seemed to know each other

She had a certain glint in her eye as she spoke to him.

"You sure they got the right stuff, to fix you up?"

Bill spoke up. "W-We'll take care of him. Thanks again, Beverly."

"Sure," she nodded, then turned gesturing to you. "Maybe, we'll see you around."

You made eye contact with Stan, and smiled knowingly, causing another blush to dust his cheeks and he awkwardly coughed.

It seemed everyone was oblivious to this, thankfully.

"Yeah, we were thinking about going to the q-quarry tomorrow, if you guys wa-wanna come."

You and Beverley shared a look and you turned to the boys. "Good to know."

"Yeah, thanks."

Hiding your smirk, the two of you turned and walked down the alley together.

This would definitely be interesting.

+++++

⇴ The Tug - [Part 2]