#everyone else again aren’t my OC’s

[afrophunk]

Here’s all my Artfight works I did this year 💕

All the characters aside Starlight and Hazel (the unicorn and bunny) are not mine

Sallymon P. Glucks(catfish fella) belongs to @creakysocks

[kikyoupdates]

Girlfriend-For-Hire ⭑˚🦋⭑ 𝟶𝟷

yandere!ocs x f!reader

yandere, reverse harem, yandere reverse harem, original characters x fem!reader, slowburn, slowburn yandere

Hoping to try something new and earn a bit of money on the side, you join an app that lets people hire you for your dating services. The idea is pretty straightforward — you pose as the client's girlfriend for a brief period of time, and in turn, you receive payment. But you didn't foresee everyone getting so attached to you, and suddenly, they're no longer satisfied with a fabricated relationship.

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“...you can do what now?”

“Hire someone to date you,” your friend, Ava, repeats. She chuckles and waves you off dismissively. “Come on, [Name]. It’s the modern age. People are always coming up with new things these days. I’m willing to bet there’s an app or website out there for practically anything.”

You blink in disbelief. Granted, there is all kinds of crazy shit going on in the world, and you’ve heard of companionship services before—like escorts or sugar baby arrangements—but to hear that something like this is trending nowadays is still undeniably a shock. 

“Here, look,” Ava gestures, pulling out her phone. “I was curious, so I downloaded the app the other day just to check out.” 

“Uh, don’t you already have a boyfriend?”

“He knows I was just browsing. I showed him too, and we scrolled through some stuff together. A lot of the profiles on here are wild,” she laughs. “It’s crazy what people advertise they’re willing to do. Get a load of this guy. He says he’s down to meet your family and make a total ass out of himself just so that he lowers your parents’ standards and the next real boyfriend you get will look way better by comparison.”

“Fucking hell,” you mutter. “I can’t tell if this is actually real, or just some new meme template.” 

“Of course it’s real! I think you’re underestimating how lonely people these days are. There’s definitely a lot of money to be made in this industry. Just look at how much people are willing to blow on their favorite streamer, even though they’ve never met them a day in their life. Dating’s gotten a lot more complicated lately, so I guess some people just want to skip past the troublesome parts and experience what it’s like to be with someone.” 

You furrow your brows. The whole thing sounds incredibly sad when you think of it that way. People would rather pay for a fabricated relationship than put in the time and effort towards building something real? Loneliness is starting to sound like an actual epidemic nowadays. 

“Well, I guess I shouldn’t judge people without understanding where they’re coming from,” you acknowledge. “It’s not like I know what they’ve been through. Times are changing and all. It sounds like this is actually starting to become pretty mainstream.” 

Ava nods chipperly. “Yep! I mean, I love my boyfriend, so I’m definitely not the target audience, but maybe it’s what some people need to gain a little boost of confidence and get back into the dating scene. I doubt everyone uses it in a romantic sense too. There are people out there that just want a bit of company every now and then. Isn’t it nice that they have someone to spend time with this way?” 

“Yeah… I guess that’s true.” 

Honestly, you’re still struggling to fully wrap your head around this. You understand the premise well enough, but you can’t really get past the part about accepting payment just to provide someone with a fabricated experience. Then again, you suppose that’s the case for most things nowadays. People are willing to spend the brunt of their earnings on in-game purchases for video games and other things that aren’t tangible in the real world, because even though they aren’t necessarily organic, it still provides them with some satisfaction. 

Long story short, it’s not up to you to decide what does or doesn’t make someone else happy, and you suppose as long as it’s executed in a professional manner, there’s nothing wrong with meeting new people this way. 

“Hey, I’ve got a great idea,” Ava suddenly perks up. “You should join this app! You’re super pretty, smart, and nice. I bet you’d have loads of guys lining up to hire you as their girlfriend!”

“Me?” You blink repeatedly, shuffling backwards the closer she leans in. “I mean, I just don’t think I’m the right person for the job. If it makes people happy, then I support it, but deep down, I worry I’d feel like I’m exploiting someone’s feelings just for a few extra bucks. Morally speaking, I’m not so sure I like the idea…” 

“It’s not exploitation,” she insists. “People know what they’re signing up for. At the end of the day, it’s a buyer-seller relationship. Someone pays for the service being advertised, and they receive it. As long as you’re not ambiguous about what you’re willing to do for the amount that you’re charging, people know what to expect. Of course, I’m sure there might be the occasional asshole here and there, but if they do anything inappropriate or violate the terms, you can report them through the app and they’ll be banned from using it.” 

You’re not quite sure how to respond to that. Some extra money would be nice. You’re a university student with all sorts of loans, so it’s not like you’ve got excess cash lying around. And it’s also true that you’ve been looking to apply for a new job lately, since your old manager was a total ass and you ended up quitting. 

Still. A girlfriend-for-hire? Someone like you? It’s just really difficult to imagine. 

“I actually think it’d be a good experience,” Ava goes on. “You’ve never really put yourself out there before. I know everyone dates at their own pace and stuff, but you shouldn’t have to be afraid. Who knows? Maybe you’ll meet some cool people and want to date them for real. And even if you don’t end up going for them, you still make some money, so either way, you’ve got nothing to lose.”

You chuckle weakly. “Yeah, I just don’t know. I feel like I’m better suited for traditional jobs. But thanks for the vote of confidence. I’m glad you think people would actually be willing to pay to date me.” 

“Girl, you seriously need to believe in yourself more,” Ava sighs. “I’m telling you, you’re a catch. But at the end of the day, it’s your call. You shouldn’t force yourself into anything if you feel uncomfortable.”

You smile and nod in agreement, and sensing your discomfort, Ava decides to change the topic.

But for some reason, you feel a twinge in your chest, and it’s hard to keep your mind from wandering.

Later that same day, you’re lounging on the couch, mouth agape, having just downloaded the app on your own phone. 

“What the hell am I doing…?” 

You tell yourself that it’s just simple curiosity. Yeah. That’s all it is. Ava piqued your interest earlier, and now you just want to scroll through in more detail to get a better sense of what kind of people use this platform. 

The app is called ‘Partner For Hire’. The name isn’t particularly inspired, you have to admit, but you suppose it communicates its point rather effectively and leaves no room for ambiguity. Ultimately, this is a transactional relationship, and it’s probably for the best that clients know what to expect. 

You can use the app as either a buyer or seller. Meaning that you can create your profile and advertise your services, or simply list yourself as a prospective client and what your hobbies and interests are. In that sense, it’s kind of similar to most dating apps, since you have to take a flattering photo to go along with whatever blurb you’re providing. Of course, just because you try to solicit someone’s services doesn’t mean there’s any guarantee they’ll accept. This is an app where you can run everything yourself, and of course the company takes a cut of your profits, rather than an agency that matches you with a client regardless of whether you want to accept the job or not. 

There’s definitely a lot of flexibility, and you can easily choose who you want to pretend to date. If someone is interested in hiring you, they submit a request to be able to contact you, and once you accept, you can message them directly and establish the terms of the dating contract, such as the length and what particular services will be provided. 

You scroll through the list of boyfriends/girlfriends being advertised on the app, and honestly, it seems like there’s a decent amount of money to be made. Of course, a lot of that comes with building a good reputation and improving your ratings and visibility so more people will want to hire you, but it actually seems like a decent amount of people are able to make a living off this sort of thing. 

You bite down on your lower lip. Should you really go ahead and just do it? Like Ava said, there’s probably not much to lose. All the transactions are managed on the app, so you can easily report people who try to skip out on paying. Clients have to link their banking and personal info, so they’d be taking on a big risk by trying to scam people. You’re sure it might happen from time to time, but based on the reviews you’ve read, the company is really good at enforcing their policies and making sure everyone gets paid.

The money seems good, and it would definitely help take some pressure off your student loans, but ultimately, the biggest thing you’re struggling with is your moral compass.

People are willing to spend money for this kind of thing, and that’s entirely their choice to make, so it’s not like you’re extorting them or anything. Still… you wonder if it’s actually okay to profit off of someone else’s loneliness. You’ve never worked the kind of job that requires you to cater directly to another person’s emotions, and it kind of freaks you out.

But maybe Ava is right. There are all sorts of people in this world. Maybe some of them are just curious to try the app out. Maybe others just want to get their families off their back by pretending like they’re dating someone for a little while. There’s no way to discern everyone’s motivations, so perhaps there’s really no point in thinking about it at all. 

Most importantly, this could be a good thing for you. Life has been stagnant recently, and it’s true that you usually hesitate to put yourself out there. You’ll never learn what you do or don’t like if you keep on avoiding everything. This could be a chance to learn a lot about other people, but also, to learn more about yourself. 

Yeah. It’s time to stop overthinking for a change and just try something new. 

Thus, feeling unusually determined, you spend the rest of the day setting up your profile (finding nice selfies was the longest part of the whole ordeal), and with a resolved huff, you post it and officially go live on the app. 

You’re not really sure what you were expecting, but needless to say, there isn’t any immediate feedback. It probably takes a while for people to stumble across your profile, and even then, there’s no guarantee they’ll want to go out with you. 

I guess I was getting worked up for no reason. Certain people might find success with this kind of thing, but it’s probably not as easy as it looks. 

You scratch your cheek, suddenly sheepish over how needlessly excited you got earlier. You’re not used to stepping out of your comfort zone, so you must have gotten a bit carried away. 

For the rest of the evening, you set your phone aside and come back to reality. You get some homework done, make dinner, and by the time you’re ready for bed, you’ve pretty much forgotten about the whole thing altogether. 

That is, until you check and see that you’ve missed a notification.

“Huh? Someone viewed my profile and wants to message me?”

You’re undeniably taken aback. Not just because it’s happening a lot sooner than you expected, but also because it means that contrary to what you first thought, people are interested in you. 

Having minimal experience when it comes to dating and romance in general, you have to admit, the thought of being viewed as desirable is immensely flattering. 

Curious to see who wants to hire your services, you click on the user’s profile.

His name is Isaac, and he’s twenty-one years old, set to complete his undergraduate studies at the end of the year. He goes to a different university than yours, thankfully, because you can’t help but feel like it would be incredibly awkward to bump into him on campus after pretending to be his girlfriend. He’s studying to become a doctor, which means he’s still got a lot of school ahead of him, but you’ve always had a lot of admiration for people who are willing to commit to their goals and work hard. 

Also, even though you don’t want to sound shallow or anything… he’s really, really attractive. 

You frown. Granted, there’s more to a person than their appearance, but based on how he comes across in his profile and what his future career is, he doesn’t strike you as the type of person who would struggle to date someone.

But again, you can never know what’s going on in a stranger’s life. And there’s no real way to find out why he decided to join the app.

Apart from speaking to him directly, of course. 

[𝐃𝐨 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐰𝐢𝐬𝐡 𝐭𝐨 𝐯𝐢𝐞𝐰 𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐮𝐬𝐞𝐫’𝐬 𝐦𝐞𝐬𝐬𝐚𝐠𝐞𝐬?]

>>[𝐘𝐄𝐒]

After a momentary delay, the screen loads into a messaging interface, allowing you to see what Isaac sent you and respond to him directly.  

You stare at the messages without blinking, just taking it all in. So, there really are people like him out there, who use these apps for reasons other than seeking companionship. It sounds like he’s not too interested in dating for real, but his parents are putting a lot of pressure on him, so he just wants an escape. Honestly, you can’t blame him for it. Your parents were overbearing for the better portion of your life—even now, as an adult—so you can understand just how suffocating it gets at times.

All of a sudden, you don’t feel too bad about accepting the job. It doesn’t feel like exploitation in the slightest. In fact, you’d be helping someone resolve a frustration situation, while getting paid in the process. It actually sounds like it could be rather fulfilling. 

More importantly, you decided to be more confident and try something new. You refuse to back out now. 

You stare at the messages without blinking, just taking it all in. So, there really are people like him out there, who use these apps for reasons other than seeking companionship. It sounds like he’s not too interested in dating for real, but his parents are putting a lot of pressure on him, so he just wants an escape. Honestly, you can’t blame him for it. Your parents were overbearing for the better portion of your life—even now, as an adult—so you can understand just how suffocating it gets at times. 

All of a sudden, you don’t feel too bad about accepting the job. It doesn’t feel like exploitation in the slightest. In fact, you’d be helping someone resolve a frustration situation, while getting paid in the process. It actually sounds like it could be rather fulfilling. 

More importantly, you decided to be more confident and try something new. You refuse to back out now. 

[𝐍𝐚𝐦𝐞]:

You’re admittedly a bit nervous, especially since you want to do a good job and avoid letting him down, but mostly, you’re feeling excited. All of this is uncharted territory for you, after all. Never in a million years would you have imagined taking on a job like this. 

And you really shouldn’t have.

You don’t know it yet, but this will be the cause of many, many regrets. 

Shit. I’m starting to have second thoughts. 

Even now, you still can’t believe you’re really going through with this. After talking to Isaac and ironing out the finer details, you agreed to join him for a family gathering and pose as his girlfriend. You expected for him to have quite a few requests, but luckily, he seems pretty laid back about the whole thing. The better portion of your conversation was spent on getting your stories straight so as not to incur any suspicion, and since you’ve always been a good student and a hard worker, you promptly memorized everything there was to know. 

And now, it’s finally time to put this plan in motion. 

“Hey,” Isaac greets. “[Name], right?”

It’s the evening, since his parents are hosting a dinner party. The event is supposed to be pretty casual, but you still dressed up semi-formal in the hopes of making a good impression. He never explicitly mentioned how strict his parents are, but since they’ve been on his case about getting a girlfriend, it never hurts to go the extra mile. 

"Hi, Isaac,” you smile. “It’s so nice to meet you.” 

“You, too,” he nods. He’s considerably taller than you, and every bit as handsome as his picture suggested. Unless his personality is god-awful (which you probably would’ve picked up on after messaging him for so long), you’ve got a good feeling that most girls would be interested in him.

Still, everyone is different. He might have really high standards, or maybe he wants to focus on his studies, or perhaps it’s just a case of having never met the right person. Whatever the reason may be, his parents shouldn’t be pressuring him to date someone, and if you have the means to help him out, you’ll happily do it. 

“You look really nice,” Isaac says. He tilts his head to the side. “I hope you didn’t feel like you had to dress up to impress anyone. The most important part is that they believe I’m seeing someone so that they finally ease up a bit.” 

“Oh, I just did this for my own peace of mind,” you reassure. “I made sure to memorize everything you told me in advance, so I’m confident I can convince them that we’re the real deal. Even though this is technically my first day on the job… I promise not to let you down.” 

You blush, feeling rather flustered. The idea of being someone’s hired girlfriend is still a lot to wrap your head around, and you certainly don’t want to make empty promises, but you have every intention of giving it your best shot. Isaac is in a stressful situation, and you’re resolved to do whatever you can to fix it. 

“Can’t wait to get this over with,” Isaac sighs. He opens the passenger door and gestures for you to step inside the car. “Don’t worry. I know you might be feeling a bit uneasy, but I promise I’m not a serial killer or anything like that. I won’t hold it against you if you have 911 ready on speed dial until we get to my parents’ house.” 

“I trust you,” you insist. “I’ve heard good things about this app, and it sounds like they take safety seriously. They’ve got your information in their system, after all. Plus, I can tell that you’re a nice guy. It’s just a gut feeling.”

“I appreciate it,” he smiles. “Anyways… I guess I’ve stalled for long enough. You can probably tell that I really don’t feel like going. But the sooner I get them off my back, the better.” 

“I’ll be the best girlfriend you can ask for,” you beam. 

It’s a promise to him, but also to yourself. You are committed to taking this new job seriously, and for the rest of the evening, you will do whatever it takes to blend into the role that’s been thrust upon you. There’s no reason to get worked up. At the end of the day, all of this is pretend. It won’t be anywhere near as complicated as a real relationship.

Right?

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[seulszn]

Listen I love TLOU and the fandom very much but a lot of people (not calling anybody out) need a reality check and need to grow up. I wanna say my two cents on things that bother me in this fandom.

1. Boycotting for Palestine

I have seen multiple times on multiple occasions where people would sit on their phone and complain about why writers are “flooding the tags with this boycotting bullshit” and honestly all I have to say is your super childish you can’t take a hour or a week out of your day to raise awareness on a important topic that is affecting millions of people? Your so horny so down bad for pixelated characters that you don’t care about the innocent children, women and men that are dying in Palestine? The boycotting isn’t gonna stop just because you want your needs filled, the boycotting isn’t going to stop because you think it needs to, it’s not gonna stop until Palestine is free. And if you wanna read things that bad then read nobody is stoping you but a take into ignition that if a writer is spreading awareness then don’t be ignorant and say stupid shit

2. Less Sex and more angst or other genres.

Listen I love Abby and Ellie just like everyone else and I read a lot of smut about them but does that all y’all see when y’all look at them? As sex objects? Like I’m not saying that you should stop writing smut for those characters but write other things to that don’t involve smut, like angst I see a lot of people under that tag say how they wish writers would as write other things that isn’t just smut and majority of the time when they say that they get hated for it. It lowkey gets boring reading fanfics where the whole plot is smut, smut, smut. And again I’m not saying to stop writing smut but please for the love of whatever you believe in write other genres.

3. Black inclusivity

As a black writer and a black person TLOU tag isn’t inclusive enough. I know you must be thinking “Why are we speaking about this again?” Because I’m honestly so tired of how uninclusive the fandom is like I said before Ellie dates WOC if you don’t know what WOC is it’s Women Of Color all of Ellie’s girlfriends where WOC now I’m not saying you can’t write for Ellie as a white person and I’m not saying that never did all I am saying is once again all of Ellie’s girlfriend where POC

Riley was a Black African American who Dated Ellie

Cat the girl who wasn’t mentioned alot but is in the game is Asian American who also dated Ellie

Dina is a Jewish (Mexican, Middle Eastern ) American who dated Ellie

Also yes we know when the reader is white coded so don’t try a put that you don’t mention when race mentioned cause you do and we can tell when you do “She’s Petite and cute with her long blonde hair” or whatever you bitches be saying we know when you guys aren’t inclusive the whole point of fanfiction writing is to be inclusive is to make sure that readers can see themself in your xreader so if your putting all these “white things and then labeling your story as “the readers race is not mentioned” or that OC stuff that y’all do then just label the story as a white reader or a OC reader

4. Futa, trans and masc

Now here I’m gonna discuss two or three things starting off with Futa and Trans. Now I don’t know when “Futa” or “Trans” Ellie and Abby came from but a lot of you readers need to understand and learn the difference between the two because they are both very different things.

Futanari: is the Japanese word for hermaphroditism, which is also used in a broader sense for androgyny. Beyond Japan, the term has come to be used to describe a commonly pornographic genre of eroge, manga, and anime, which includes characters that show primary sexual characteristics from both females and males. In today's language, it refers almost exclusively to characters who have an overall feminine body, but have both female and male primary genitalia (although a scrotum is not always present, while breasts, a penis, and a vulva are). The term is also often abbreviated as futa(s), which is also used as a generalized term for the works themselves.

Transgender (often shortened to trans) is someone whose gender identity differs from that typically associated with the sex they were assigned at birth. Some transgender people who desire medical assistance to transition from one sex to another identify as transsexual. Transgender is also an umbrella term; in addition to including people whose gender identity is the opposite of their assigned sex (trans men and trans women), it may also include people who are non-binary or genderqueer. Other definitions of transgender also include people who belong to a third gender, or else conceptualize transgender people as a third gender. The term may also include cross-dressers or drag kings and drag queens in some contexts. The term transgender does not have a universally accepted definition, including among researchers.

Mind you I am not transgender I am nonbinary but I see a lot of transgender people speak up about how offensive it is to write a character as Transgender but it’s not really transgender but a Futanari remember a Futa is a character who is assigned a gender at birth but just has extra sexual parts like a penis.

Now another thing that bothers me is how y’all Masculinize Masc Lesbians as if they still aren’t women themselves like every time I read a fanfic with Ellie or Abby or even Vi and Sevika from Arcane you guys like to ignore they fact that they are also women themselves like it’s not gonna kill you to give those characters feminine compliments there shouldn’t be a reason why your calling these women “handsome” or other Masculine compliments and also a lot of Masculine women where makeup it’s not just a feminine woman thing. Masc Lesbians are women they aren’t men so stop treating them as if they are men and ignoring the fact that they are women

5. the Innocent childish reader gotta stop.

They title says enough I don’t think I need to say too much but a lot of y’all get innocent and corruption mixed up but a corruption kink is When you find the idea of "corrupting" someone, mostly in a sexual way, like taking virginities or introducing people to stuff like bdsm etc. It's the idea of having someone "pure" do "bad" things under your influence. And innocent is not corrupted or tainted with evil or unpleasant emotion; sinless; pure. not guilty of a particular crime; blameless. (From the dictionary)

Y’all need to understand yes not everyone knows what sex is but everyone knows what a vagina is what a penis is, what a orgasm is and what sex is but they may not knows what happens when you have sex so making the reader what y’all call innocent isn’t innocent it’s honestly to me perverted cause the only one who would say something like “my cunny feels weird 🥺” or that “what is sex 🥺” is a child. Children don’t know what sex is children don’t know what pleasure or orgasms is and when y’all say “the reader is a Bimbo” is also funny cause Bimbos know what sex is as well yes they may be stupid but they aren’t slow so before you make a innocent reader please think “am I making my reader act like a child or am I gonna make her really innocent like how regular grown ass adults act?” so don't get not knowing and "innocent" mixed up

6. The stories where they have sex inside a church also gotta stop

Now I’m not a Christian but these stories are honestly really bad and are Blasphemy a lot of people have come out and said that they don’t like the fact that people are writing stories about church in a sexual way like their shouldn’t be any reason why your characters are fucking inside a church, that’s like stomping on someone’s dead grave. You guys do shit like this and then wonder why Christian’s don’t like us. Religion isn’t something to be sexualized it’s not something to be playing with either this idc how much you hate Christianity you can be a Atheist, or Catholic or Jewish but please for the love of whatever you believe in don’t sexualize people’s religion.

That’s all I can think of at the moment if I think of more I’ll of course make a part two to this but don’t take anything I said here to heart it’s just my blunt honest opinion on things in this fandom and if I get hate for this 🤷🏾‍♀️

[lupinqs]

CHAPTER THREE ━━ Falling out of Focus

☆ ━ pairing: hopkins!paige x oc (dani callan)

☆ ━ word count: 4.5K

☆ ━ warnings: use of homophobic slur, underage drinking, smoking i think, tiny fist fight lol, more angst

☆ ━ links: my masterlist, take me to church masterlist

☆ ━ author’s note: so sorry i did not proof read this and it’s so dialogue heavy but here it is anyways and drama period

IF NOTHING can comfort Paige Bueckers, it’s usually a basketball court that she needs. It’s the place where she’s found solace nearly her whole life, at this point. The steady rhythm of the dribbling, the weight of the ball in her hands, the way her body moves practically on instinct with it now—all of it is usually enough to drown out the noise of the world. Apparently, not today. She feels like she’s playing in someone else’s body, like everything with her game is off. None of her shots fall, she turns the ball more than she assists, and, when, she shoots once more and the ball hits the rim, bouncing off again, she feels like she’s going to lose it.

Coach Cosgriff seems to feel the same way. “Paige! Come on!” his voice cuts, sharp and direct. Paige blinks, shaking her head a little to clear it, before getting back into the drill.

“Sorry, Coach,” she mumbles, forcing her feet to move. But it’s almost like neither her heart or head are in. The ball feels heavy, unwieldy, like it isn’t made for her hands anymore. She passes it to Taylor, who shoots her a worried look before continuing the play.

Paige can feel the eyes of her teammates on her, each glance a tiny needle pricking her skin. Normally, she’d thrive under the attention, but today, it’s suffocating. She feels like she’s spiraling, and she has no idea how to stop it. It isn’t just about basketball; it’s about fucking everything.

“Let’s run it again!” Coach calls, and Paige tries to push all thoughts that aren’t basketball out of her mind. But the harder she tries, the more insistent her brain becomes.

They run through the drill again, and—again—Paige finds herself a step behind. She’s supposed to cut to the basket, but her feet move too slowly, like they’re stuck in mud. Amaya passes her the ball, but Paige isn’t ready, and it slips through her fingers, skidding across the floor.

“Damnit,” Paige curses under her breath, running after it. She can feel her teammates’ frustration, their confusion, and she hates herself for being the cause of it.

“Paige, you good?” Maya asks as they pause for a water break. She’s careful not to sound accusatory, but Paige can hear the concern in her voice. “You’re not yourself today.”

“I’m fine,” Paige snaps, harsher than she intended. Maya blinks, taken aback, and Paige immediately feels guilty. “I’m just… off. It’s nothing.”

“It doesn’t seem like nothing,” KK chimes in, wiping sweat from her forehead. “You can talk to us, you know.”

Paige forces a smile, but it feels all wrong on her face. “I’m good. Just needa get my head straight.”

The words feel empty even as she says them. How can she explain to her teammates without sounding pathetic and stupid that she’s acting this way over a girl? Obviously, it’s not just any girl—it’s Dani. But still. A girl is getting in the way of Paige and basketball and it’s frustrating her so fucking much. She hates it. She hates all of it. She hates that every time she closes her eyes, all she sees is Dani slipping further away from her, replaced by Beau Hudson’s smug, indifferent face?

“Alright, everyone, bring it in,” Coach Cosgriff calls, ending the break. “Let’s focus up and finish strong.”

Paige nods, but her focus is long gone. The rest of practice is a blur of missed shots, half-hearted passes, and growing frustration. When it finally ends, Paige doesn’t stick around to talk to anyone. She grabs her bag, mumbling something about having to study, and heads straight for the locker room.

In the quiet of the locker room, Paige finally allows herself to collapse on the bench. She buries her face in her hands, feeling the sting of tears behind her eyes. She refuses to let them fall. Crying won’t change anything; it won’t bring Dani back to her, and it sure as hell won’t fix the gaping hole that seems to be growing in her chest.

Paige decides she needs a distraction. Something, anything, to take her mind off Dani, off the way everything’s falling apart.

—SO, a few days later, when Jalen texts Paige about a party, she doesn’t hesitate. She needs noise, people, a chance to drown out the thoughts that have cut off all her access to oxygen.

Paige can feel the bass of the music vibrating through the floorboards the moment she enters the house. The air is thick with the smell of cheap beer, sweat, and the faint tang of weed lingering in the background. The place is packed—people spilling out into the backyard, others dancing in the living room, and even more just milling about with red solo cups in hand. It’s exactly what Paige needs—or, at least that’s what she tells herself.

Jalen and Thaliah walk in beside her, ready for a much-needed night out. Jalen has a grin plastered across his face, greeting people as they walk in, while Thaliah is more laid-back, scanning the crowd for familiar faces as she takes a hit from the pen in her hand. Paige, on the other hand, feels almost like she’s moving through fog—like the world is a few seconds behind her. But that’s the point of tonight, anyways. To blur the edges. To numb the ache that’s been gnawing at her ever since Dani pushed her away.

“Yo, you good, P?” Jalen’s voice cuts through her thoughts, his hand landing on her shoulder as they push their way toward the kitchen. He gives her a once-over, expression tinged with concern. “You don’t look like you’re feelin’ this.”

Paige forces a smile, one that doesn’t quite reach her eyes. “‘M fine,” she lies, grabbing a solo cup from the counter. “Just need a drink.”

Thaliah, pen still in hand, raises her eyebrows but doesn’t say anything, though there’s a look exchanged between her and Jalen. Paige ignores it. She isn’t in the mood for questions, for concern. She just wants to forget. Wants to drown out the constant loop of thoughts running through her head—Dani with Beau, Dani avoiding her, Dani blocking her out. It all swirls in her chest, a storm she hasn’t been able to control for weeks now.

With that thought, Paige downs her first drink in one long gulp, barely wincing at the sharp taste of Vodka and God-knows-what mixed into it. The burn isn’t enough. She needs more.

Within the next hour, Paige makes her way through three more cups of whatever mix of alcohol they’re serving, the edge of her thoughts blurring with each one, head starting to swim pleasantly, the fog that she’s been chasing slowly starting to catch up to her. Jalen and Thaliah drink too, but not with the same reckless abandon. Even they have their limits, knowing when to pace themselves.

But Paige? She doesn’t quite care about limits tonight.

“Bro, slow down,” Thaliah says, eyeing Paige warily as she reaches for yet another cup. “We’re supposed to be having fun, not getting wasted in the first hour.”

Paige rolls her eyes, ignoring the warning. “I am having fun,” she shoots back, though even to her own ears, her voice sounds a little too sharp, a little too defensive. She takes another long sip from the cup, the world around her beginning to tilt slightly. It’s like floating—like nothing can touch her, and that’s exactly what she wants. No feelings. No thoughts. Just nothing.

Jalen watches her, his buzzed and carefree smile faltering as he nudges Thaliah. “Hey, maybe we should—”

“I’m fine!” Paige cuts in, louder than she means to. Her hand tightens around the cup as she glances at them both, the alcohol making her words slur slightly. “I’m fine, okay? I don’t need a babysitter. God.”

She turns away from them, her eyes scanning the room for something—anything—else to keep her occupied. She doesn’t want to talk. She doesn’t want to think. She just wants to not feel for a while.

She spots a group of people in the corner of the room, most of them looking just as drunk as she feels. Without another word to her best friends, Paige drifts toward the group, her steps a little uneven as the alcohol works its way through her system.

Jalen watches her go, his eyebrows furrowed for a moment before he turns back to his conversation. “She’ll be fine,” he mumbles, though there’s a slight hesitation in his voice. He glances at Thaliah, who shrugs, clearly tipsy herself but sharing the same concern. Nevertheless, neither of them are quite in the best shape to intervene. Besides, they both know Paige well enough to understand that trying to stop her won’t do any good.

Paige finds herself wedged between two guys she barely knows, both of them laughing loudly about something she isn’t even listening to. It doesn’t matter. She’s laughing too, caught up in the haze of drunkenness, the weight of everything she’s been carrying slipping off her shoulders for just a moment.

“Yo, you good?” one of the guys asks, his words slurred and slow as he nudges her with his elbow. “You look like you’re having a real good time.”

Paige grins, feeling the warmth of the alcohol spread through her chest. “Yeah, I’m good. Real good.”

He sends her a matching grin in return before handing her another drink—something dark and strong—and, without thinking twice, she takes a long sip, the liquid burning as it goes down. She doesn’t care. All she wants is to keep the buzz going, to keep drowning out the thoughts that keep creeping back whenever she slows down.

Dani. Always fucking Dani.

Paige shakes her head, like she can physically push the thought away. She doesn’t want to think about her. Not about the way she’s pulled away, not about the way she’s acting like Paige doesn’t even exist, not about the way she’s with Beau now. Paige doesn’t want to think about any of it.

“Paige, what are you doing?” Thaliah’s voice breaks through the noise, and Paige blinks, realizing she’s wandered away from the group she was with, ending up near the back patio. Thaliah stands in the doorway, her arms crossed, a slightly exasperated but still concerned look on her face.

“Getting another drink,” Paige slurs, waving her empty cup like it’s the most obvious thing in the world.

Thaliah steps closer, her eyes narrowing. “Maybe you should chill for a minute. You’ve had, like, five already.”

Paige rolls her eyes again, turning away from her friend. “I’m fine, Thal. Seriously.”

Thaliah hesitates, glancing back over her shoulder toward Jalen, who’s still talking to a couple of people near the couch. She isn’t entirely sober herself, and her judgment is definitely a little clouded, but even she can see Paige practically spiraling.

“Just… don’t do anything stupid, okay?” Thaliah affirms, her voice softer now.

“I won’t,” Paige mumbles, though she isn’t sure she means it.

Thaliah stares at her for a moment longer before sighing and heading back inside. Paige doesn’t look back. She wanders farther into the backyard, her footsteps a little less steady now. She finds a group of people near the fire pit, most of them drunk and talking over each other. She sits down on the edge of the bench, barely listening to their conversation as she takes another drink from the communal cooler.

Zoning out, she stares at the flames in the fire pit, the flickering light casting shadows on her face. It crackles, and she watches, the embers highlighting the dark air around her. Everything is a bit softer at the edges now, almost dreamlike, until something—or, rather someone—catches her eye.

A brunette girl sits down next to Paige, her face half-illuminated by the fire before them. She has softer features and warm eyes, as well as brown hair that falls around her shoulders in waves, light highlights coating it. Her cheeks are red with the unmistakable flush of alcohol. She glances at Paige, a lazy smile tugging at the corner of her lips. There’s something familiar about the girl, a feeling that tugs at Paige’s drunken mind. It takes her a second to place, but when she realizes why, her heart stumbles a bit: this girl reminds Paige of Dani.

The blonde blinks, her gaze instinctively drawn to the girl’s lips, her head swimming a little more than before.

“Hey,” the brunette slurs a little, her voice laced with the same inebriated giddiness that Paige feels. “I’m Delaney.”

“Delaney?” Paige echoes, feeling like she misheard for a second. She blinks again, her heart doing an unsteady flip at how similar the names Delaney and Dani sound to her. It throws her off for a moment, but not in the way she expects. Maybe it’s because she’s wasted, maybe it’s the loneliness she’s been burying, or maybe it’s just how much she misses her best friend. But somehow, Delaney seems all the more appealing to Paige because of it.

“Yeah,” Delaney giggles, leaning closer, her shoulder brushing against the blonde’s. “And you’re Paige Bueckers.”

Paige feels a smirk creep onto her lips. “You know who I am?” she asks, voice dipping lower, ego inflating slightly. She leans in a little, enough so the sides of their legs touch.

The blonde watches as Delaney’s gaze trails across her face and over her lips. “Everyone knows who you are,” the brunette murmurs. She pauses for a moment, her drunk smile widening slightly. “You’re hot.”

The heat rises in Paige’s chest at that, and she grins back, asking, “Oh, am I?”

Delaney rolls her eyes a little and Paige laughs. The air feels smaller now, like it’s just the two of them, cocooned in the haze of alcohol and tension. Delaney’s eyes sparkle as she stares at Paige, and without much more thought, they fall into a flirty back-and-forth, words blending into giggles and gentle touches that feel a little too familiar.

The brunette rests her hand on Paige’s knee, her fingers slowly trailing upward, and Paige doesn’t stop her. It’s easy. Too easy. Paige leans forward, her breath catching in her throat as their faces hover inches apart.

“You really are pretty,” Paige whispers, her eyes drifting to Delaney’s lips.

And before she knew it, the space between them disappears their lips crash together, the kiss hot and sloppy and fueled by too much alcohol. Paige kisses Delaney harder, trying to drown out the ache that’s been gnawing at her all summer—the same ache that Dani left behind when she cut Paige out of her life.

For a moment, it’s enough. Paige loses herself in the kiss, her hands sliding to Delaney’s waist, pulling her closer. Delaney’s hand is on Paige’s thigh again, this time higher, but the basketball player doesn’t stop her. The brunette tastes like cheap beer and something sweet, and Paige kisses her like it’s an escape.

But then, the sensation of being watched creeps up on her, sending a shiver down her spine. Paige pulls back a little, her breathing uneven and her lips swollen as her eyes darted around. She scans the yard and the back-end of the house, the shadows of people milling about. And then her gaze locks onto someone standing just by the back door.

Her stomach drops.

Dani.

Paige’s breath hitches as she stares at her. Dani’s watching her, her eyes dark and unreadable, arms crossed over her chest. Paige freezes, her heart pounding in her ears as she takes in the sight of her former best friend, looking so effortlessly gorgeous. She’s wearing jeans that fit her perfectly and a tank top that leaves little to the imagination and as soon as Paige’s eyes set on her, a familiar fire alights in her chest.

As soon as Dani realizes Paige has seen her, she looks away, turning her head and beginning to walk away from the back door as if she wasn’t watching at all. But Paige saw it. The tension in Dani’s jaw, the flicker of something in her eyes.

And suddenly, it’s like Paige is struck by lightning, jolted back into reality. What the hell is she doing?

“Shit,” Paige mutters, pushing herself away from Delaney, her heart racing. Delaney blinks in confusion, still dazed and flushed from the kiss.

“Wait—where are you going?” Delaney asks, her hand reaching for Paige’s arm.

“I—uh—I’ve gotta go,” Paige stammers, barely sparing her another glance before she’s up on her feet, leaving Delaney sitting there on the couch, confused and drunk. Paige barely feels a pang of guilt as she hurries toward Dani, the alcohol still swirling in her system, making her steps unsteady.

Paige stumbles inside the house, weaving her way through the crowd until she catches up to the Callan girl. She reaches out, grabbing Dani’s arm, stopping her in her tracks.

“Dani, wait—” Paige’s words come out more frantic than she intends, her grip on Dani’s arm loosening when Dani turns to face her. Paige’s heart hammers in her chest as she struggles to form coherent thoughts. “I—I don’t know what’s going on, but can we just—”

Dani jerks her arm out of Paige’s grip, her face stony. “What do you want, Paige?”

“I don’t know!” Paige’s voice cracks, her frustration bubbling to the surface. “I don’t know, okay? I saw you staring at me, and then you—why were you even watching me with her?”

Dani’s expression remains cold, but Paige sees the way her fingers twitch at her sides. “I wasn’t watching.”

“That’s bullshit, Dani!” Paige’s voice raises an octave, her fists clenching as she fights to keep herself at bay. “You were staring at me. And her. Why?”

“No, I wasn’t!” Dani denies again, her voice sharp and biting. “It’s none of my business what—or who—you do at a party.”

Paige’s chest tightens at the bitterness in Dani’s words. She feels the sting of them like a slap to the face. “If you don’t care, then why are you acting like this? Why are you even here?”

“I’m here with Beau,” Dani says, her voice firm. “And I don’t care what you do. So, why don’t you go on back to making out with random girls, yeah?”

Paige’s breath catches in her throat, her anger simmering just beneath the surface. “God, you’re so full of shit,” she mutters, shaking her head. “You act like you don’t care, but you do. I know you do. Why can’t you just admit it, for fucks’ sake?”

They stare at each for a long moment, face-to-face in silence, anger and something else surrounding the air between them. But before either of them can say anything more, Beau appeared out of nowhere, stepping between them.

“Is there a problem here?” Beau asked, his eyes narrowing at Paige, his tone casual but the tension in his stance clear. He steps in front of Dani like a shield, glaring at Paige.

The blonde rolls her eyes at him, her frustration doubling. “No,” she snaps, her voice dripping with sarcasm. “Just having a conversation.”

Beau scoffs, his arms crossing over his chest. “Doesn’t look like much of a conversation to me. Looks like you’re harassing my girlfriend, Bueckers.”

Paige’s stomach churns at the word, the jealousy like a punch to the gut. It’s not unfamiliar at this point, but it still gives Paige the same effect. “Can’t you just fuck off?” she retorts with venom. “This has nothing to do with you.”

“I’m her boyfriend, so, yeah, I think it does,” Beau argues, stepping closer to Paige, trying to intimidate her. But Paige isn’t scared of him, even in her drunken state. He may be more muscular—the football kind of body type—but she’s taller, a couple of inches on him, and she meets his challenge with a steady glare.

“I don’t give a shit what you think,” Paige bites out, stepping closer herself, their faces inches apart now. “But Dani and I? We have history. And you—” she jabs her finger into his chest, “are just a replacement.”

Beau’s face twists in anger, his hands balling into fists. “Watch your mouth, Bueckers.”

“Or what—” the blonde begins, but before she can get her words out completely, two figures are by her side, hands pulling her away slightly.

“Paige,” Thaliah mutters, trying to tug at her arm. “C’mon, let’s go.”

Jalen stands there too, shaking his head. “Yep, come on,” he says. And then he lets his gaze shift between Beau and Dani, glaring at the pair. “Neither of them are worth it.”

Paige’s jaw clenches, her eyes still locked on Dani’s, searching for anything that would tell her this isn’t over. But Dani won’t even look at her. She keeps her eyes trained on the floor, her arms still crossed tightly over her chest, her whole body tense.

And so, Paige id about to turn around, to let Thaliah and Jalen pull her away, when she hears Beau’s voice again.

“It’s good you and her aren’t friends anymore,” Beau says loudly, looking directly at Dani. His next words are sharp and venomous. “Don’t want a dyke like her corrupting you.”

The world seems to freeze.

Paige’s heart stops. The word dyke echoes in her ears, and the blood drains from her face. She can feel the heat rising in her chest, the anger boiling over like a volcano about to erupt.

Even Dani’s head snaps up, her eyes wide with shock. But she doesn’t say anything. She doesn’t defend Paige.

Without thinking, without even hesitating for a second, Paige turns and lunges at Beau, her fists flying before anyone can react.

Her first punch lands squarely on his jaw, sending him stumbling back. She feels pain erupt across her knuckles, and she shakes her hand for a moment. The shock on his face is almost satisfying—almost. But Paige doesn’t stop there. She she shoves him backwards now, hands at his chest, and he stumbles slightly.

“You fucking—” Beau starts, but he doesn’t get the chance to finish.

Thaliah and Jalen are on her in an instant, pulling Paige back with more force now. Thaliah’s voice is almost panicked, trying to calm her down as Jalen stands between her and Beau, his hands outstretched like a human barrier. He glares at the Hudson boy, saying firmly, “Back the fuck up.”

“Paige, come on, it’s not worth it!” Thaliah’s practically shouting now, her grip on Paige’s arm tight.

“Let go of me!” Paige yells, her voice cracking with fury. She struggles against their hold, her eyes locked on Beau, who stands there, looking more shocked than anything. But there’s no fear in his eyes—only smugness, actually.

Beau wipes his mouth, glancing at the blood on his hand where her punch landed. He sneers. “Yeah, that’s what I thought. Can’t handle the truth, can you?”

Paige’s vision blurs with anger, and she tries to lunge at him again, but Thaliah and Jalen hold her back.

Dani, who’s been frozen this whole time, finally speaks up. “Beau, just stop.”

Beau’s glances down at Dani, almost grinning. He clearly is enjoying the chaos he’s caused. “I’m just saying what everyone’s thinking, babe.”

Paige is done. She’s fucking done.

“Fuck you,” she spits at Beau, staring at him from behind Jalen. He just smirks back. And then she turns her attention to Dani, adding, “And, fuck you, too. You’re such a fucking coward, Dani.”

Paige rips her arm from Thaliah’s grasp, turning from the group and walking straight out of the house, wanting nothing more than to just go home.

THE DAYS that follow are a blur of basketball practices, classes, and restless nights. Paige tries to focus, tries to lose herself in the familiar routine, but nothing feels right. Every time she steps onto the court, her movements feel sluggish, disconnected. She’s there, but she isn’t really present. Her mind is elsewhere, stuck in a loop of memories and worries that she can’t escape.

Coach Cosgriff notices, of course. It would be impossible not to. Paige has always been the one to set the pace, to push herself and her teammates to be better. But now, she’s lagging behind, missing cues, and snapping at anyone who tries to point it out.

“Paige, my office. Now,” Coach says one afternoon after a particularly grueling practice.

Paige knows what’s coming, but she follows him without protest, dragging her feet as she walks. The other girls exchange glances but don’t say anything. They know better than to try to talk to her when she’s in one of these moods.

Coach’s office is small, cramped with old trophies and posters of past teams. He sits behind his desk, his expression unreadable as he gestures for Paige to sit down before him.

“What’s going on with you, Paige?” he asks, leaning forward, his tone soft but firm. “This isn’t like you. You’ve been off for weeks now. Is it school? Family? Whatever it is, you need to get it sorted, because it’s affecting your game.”

Paige looks down at her hands, unable to meet his gaze. “It’s… complicated,” she says finally, her voice barely above a whisper.

Coach sighs, running a hand over his face. “Life is complicated, Paige. But you need to find a way to deal with it. You’re the leader of this team, and if you’re not focused, the others won’t be either.“

“I know,” Paige replies, her throat tight. “I’m sorry, Coach. I’m just… going through something right now.”

“Do you want to talk about it?” Coach offers, surprising Paige. He isn’t usually the type to get involved in his players’ personal lives, but Paige guesses he’s worried about how much this is affecting her performance.

Paige shakes her head, though. She couldn’t talk about it, not without breaking down, and she couldn’t afford to do that. Besides, it would be more embarrassing than anything to have to explain how much losing someone—that’s technically still there—has affected her. “No, I’ll be fine. I just need some time.”

Coach watches her for a moment, then nods slowly. “Alright. But you need to get your head back in the game, Paige. I can’t have you on the court if you’re not all there. Understand?”

“Yes, Coach,” Paige responds quickly, feeling the weight of his words settle on her shoulders.

“Take tonight off,” Coach says, surprising her again. “Clear your head, do whatever you need to do. But when you come back tomorrow, I need the Paige Bueckers I know back on that court. The season starts in less than a month, Paige.”

Paige nods, standing up to leave. “I’ll do my best, Coach.”

As she’s about to walk out the door, Coach Cosgriff stops her, saying, “Wait.” She turns, eyes curious as she meets his gaze, wondering what else he has to say. He offers a small smile, telling her, “I went through a tough time when I was your age, too. It’s difficult to be a teenager. But the best advice I was ever given is that whatever problem you’ve got going on—you gotta either drop it, forget it, and move on, or you fix it. I know it’s easier said than done, but it’s true.”

Paige lets the words sink in.

Drop it, forget it, move on.

Or fix it.

Fuck, she doesn’t know.

[sorchathered]

I can love you through the dark

Pairing- Jake Seresin x OC (Savannah Monroe-Seresin)

Warnings- language, angst, mentions of death, pregnancy, ptsd

Summary- sometimes the past keeps Jake up at night, but she is always there to bring him back from the dark.

A/N- an old WIP I found deep in my Google docs that I thought could use some love. Not beta read.

———————————————————————————-

Jake Seresin had a short fuse. He’d been working on that.

He kept his composure as Rooster threw that cheap shot at him, brushing it off despite the shock all over everyone’s faces by the pool table. “The only place you’ll lead someone is an early grave.” It rang in his ears later that night, Coyote was too damn perceptive as he watched his friend from across the shitty barracks room they were assigned to.

“I’m fine” Jake grunted as he stared at the ceiling, trying to will the thoughts away.

Two years. It’d been two years since his former wingman Torch had lost his life in a field exercise gone wrong. Jake had been cleared of any wrongdoing but he knew; if he’d watched his teammate’s back like he should have Torch would still be alive.

He’d worked his ass off to prove he was the best ever since, and refused to let anyone else in again after that day. Maybe that’s why he was so frustrated with Rooster, he cared too much where Jake refused to care at all. The mission was what mattered now; not making friends. All getting close to someone guaranteed was that you had more to lose, and Jake couldn’t bear to lose anything or anyone else.

“How are things going?” The soft voice filtered through the speaker of his phone as he paced the halls, another night full of nightmares and no sleep.

“It’s going. This is a big one, everyone who’s anyone is here and I worry that they aren’t taking it as serious as they should.” He sighed and ran a hand over his face, he shouldn’t be on the phone with her right now, one of them at least needed to get some rest.

“You need to take care of yourself, and try to be a team player-“

He barked out a laugh at that and he could just see her shaking her head and sighing, she knew he couldn’t afford to get close to someone like that again, no one knew better than she did.

“Jake. I need your head in the game. I can’t do this without you, I- I need you to come home ok?” She was crying, he’d promised he’d do everything he could to never make her cry and here she was getting upset over him again.

“Sweetheart I’m not going anywhere, but you need to rest ok? I’ll be good, I’ll be the very best. Take care of yourself and our little angel. I love you Savvy, fuck- I love you so much.”

They said their goodbyes and Jake slept for the first time since he’d gotten back to Miramar.

Savannah “Savvy” Monroe had been Torch’s high school sweetheart, she’d followed him wherever the navy took him until that fateful day when his plane had gone down. She’d always seemed like an unstoppable force until then, and Jake watched one of his best friend’s crumble and turn into a shell of the woman she’d been. It seemed obvious to everyone but him that they would seek solace in each other, no one blamed them for how they chose to stitch themselves back together, and while they started a new life together Jake couldn’t help but struggle with the guilt.

She’d dragged him to therapy after a big fight, he’d walked out her early in their relationship; determined to prove to her that he didn’t deserve her love and push her to hate him as much as he hated himself. 6 months later he’d finally found himself again, only to find out that Savvy was pregnant. He couldn’t help but wish Torch was here, and his therapist told him it was not only normal but expected. He’d made an honest woman out of her quickly after that, life had proven to be too short and they wanted to start their new life with all the bows tied up nice and neat.

When the call came up to head back to top gun they were nearing the 7th month and he wanted her to stay in Texas with his mom where he knew she’d be safe and taken care of. Now he was here and all he wanted was to hold her, especially after Rooster managed to get under his skin. No one really knew that he and Sav were married, except for Javy and his wife and he wanted to keep it that way. Rooster knew Torch would always be a sore spot, and he’d pressed just the right buttons to bring Hangman to the surface. He filed that rage away for the right moment and when the time came he was ruthless, he knew it was wrong to cut Bradshaw down like that but Rooster had thrown the first punch.

When he got reduced to spare and Rooster got promoted to wingman he was almost relieved, he had too much to lose and it was easy to get caught up in the competition. He wanted to be the best, but he had to think of his family.

Mission accomplished and successful, everyone had survived and made it back to Fightertown safely. As he stepped off the carrier he heard her shouting his name and shook his head in disbelief, he should’ve known better than to think her stubborn ass wouldn’t be here waiting for him to return. She couldn’t run bless her heart but she waddled across the lot as fast as she could with a giggle as he scooped her up in his arms, kissing her deeply and then dropping to his knees to talk to his baby boy.

Rooster watched from a distance, realization striking him as he took the scene in. He’d met Torch’s wife before, years ago when they were in flight school. Heat burned his cheeks as he realized that maybe- just maybe he was just as much of an ass as Jake Seresin, and maybe his judgement had been too harsh. Coyote clapped him on the shoulder as he passed, nodding his head in their direction as he watched Jake pepper kisses to her cheeks, he treated her like she were made of glass as he escorted her across the lot to his truck.

“Now you know a little something about Hangman, he wants you to think he’s a pompous ass; but the man couldn’t be more of a marshmallow. I hope to God we never have to live through what they did, don’t you agree?” Javy Machado didn’t wait for an answer, just left Rooster to ponder that thought.

He thought of his mother, broken over the loss of his father and felt a cold chill, he’d find a way to thank Hangman someday, he had saved his life after all.

———————————————————————————-

Tagging- @roosterforme @attapullman @bobgasm @seitmai @sebsxphia @mynameismckenziemae @sailor-aviator

[chunghasweetie]

𝐂𝐋𝐎𝐒𝐄𝐑 | P.JM

— pairing | collegestudent!oc x collegestudent!pjm

— summary | friend of taehyung and jungkook’s ends up spending more time

with you than he thought he would.

— warning | bad writing (i’m doing my best)

forced proximity, unprotected sex, play fight, light dirty talk, semi public sex, exposed

— word count | 3.3k words

— song suggestion | closer — jihyo

“Alright. Meet up on Saturday right?” Jungkook asked the girls. “Maybe we should go bowling this time.”

“No way. Let’s go shopping again.” Jeonghwa shook her head.

“We just did that today!” Taehyung argued.

“Omg so what? We had fun didn’t we?” Hani shook her head. “It’s not our fault you have to carry the bags. It’s called being a gentleman.”

“Fuck that.” Jungkook shook his head. “We want to go bowling. Even Y/n wants to go!”

“I do.” She spoke up. “Come on. They have good food there too and we can drink. It’ll be fun.”

“You guys should be like Y/n. She always has the best ideas.” Taehyung nodded, making the other two girls roll their eyes.

This was their friend group. Three girls being Hani, Y/n, and Jeonghwa whereas the two boys were Taehyung and Jungkook.

It was their senior year of college and the two had been friends since their high school years. They considered themselves family at that point.

They went out all the time, even with no location in mind.

“Okay fine. We’ll go to stupid bowling.” Jeonghwa agreed, earning a ‘yes’ sound from Jungkook.

“Yay!” Taehyung cheered. “It’ll be fun I promise.”

༊—

Y/n was at the bowling alley with her friends finally after a long week of studying.

“Oh look how pretty you guys look!” Taehyung announced as they all got out of the car together. “And here I was thinking this was a regular hang out.”

“You just have hot friends.” Hani replied.

“Eh, I’ve seen better.” Jungkook mumbled, earning a punch on the arm from Jeonghwa.

“Okay! You guys look cool I guess.” He shook his head, rubbing his arm as the group walked in.

“Oh shit. Jungkook we forgot to tell them.” Taehyung cursed.

“Tell them what?” Jungkook blinked. “Oh yeah, we wanted it to be an even 3v3 so we invited Jimin.”

“That’s fine with us.” Jeonghwa shrugged. “Whatever makes you guys feel better about losing.”

Jimin hung out with the group occasionally. He transferred to their college about a year ago.

He was closer with Jungkook and Taehyung and everyone else. Everytime he was hanging out with them, Y/n seemed to be busy that day so they didn’t ever really cross paths besides a ‘hello’ here and there.

“Like we’re gonna lose.” Taehyung nudged Jungkook before making eye contact with Jimin so was by the shoe rack.

“Yo Jimin!” Hani’s outgoing voice announced, “We’re here!”

It was hard not to notice the group of adults acting like children, pushing each other and bickering on the way in.

Jimin flashed an inviting smile as they made their way over to him.

“Jiminnn” Jungkook cooed, “You cameee”

“Why wouldn’t I? I like hanging out with you guys.” He laughed. “Oh and Taehyung texted like 16 times asking if I was still coming.”

“Goddamnit Taehyung.” Hani glared at him. “That’s why he only hangs out with us ever so often. You’re a fucking weirdo.”

“Dude he likes it. He sent me a heart emoji” Taehyung made a heart shape with his fingers, making everyone gag.

“Yeah because that’s not creepy.” Jeonghwa rolled her eyes. “Jimin do you already have your shoes?”

He nodded. “Nah. I wanted to wait for you guys.” He told her.

The group ordered their shoes to enjoy while they played.

“Aren’t you scared to drink Jeonghwa?” Y/n asked. “You got shit faced last time.”

“Yeah. You fucking threw up all in my car.” Jungkook groaned, reminiscing the brutal moment of his car seats covered in bile.

“Whatever. It’ll be fine this time!” Jeonghwa slipped on her bowling shoes.

“Who has my shoes?” Y/n looked over, not able to find her pair.

“Oh my bad.” Jimin handed her shoes to her, “Wasn’t really thinking, my bad.” He apologized.

“You’re good. I just thought Hani stole them.” Y/n chuckled.

He stared at her as he handed them back, analyzing the girl in front of him.

The two hardly ever interacted up close. Barely ever spoke full sentences to one another.

“Jimin! Y/n! Go get us drinks and snacks yeah?” Jungkook ordered.


The two looked at Jungkook then back at one another, “Oh okay.” Y/n replied.

“What do you think they’ll want?” Jimin walked with her to the snack bar.

“No idea. I’m just ordering what I would get myself.” Y/n shrugged. “Beer and chicken sound okay?”

Jimin nodded in agreement. “That sounds fine to me.” He ordered for them, getting his card out.

“You don’t have to get that. You’re a guest.” Y/n stopped him. “I got it.”

“Not a guest. You’re just never here when I’m around.” Jimin tapped his card on the reader, buying for the group. “I don’t mind.”

“I don’t think that’s fair but— Thanks.” She gave in, not wanting to argue to pay since it was already over and done with.

“Let’s start playing.” Jimin and Y/n came back to the group. “We can take a break to eat once the food gets here.”

The group bowled over and over, doing absolutely terrible.

Everyone was trying to show off for each other but it wasn’t going well.

Hani, Taehyung, and Jeonghwa were incredibly drunk towards the end of the game. They could hardly roll the bowling ball.

“D-Did I win?” Jeonghwa hiccuped.

“Oh my gosh.” Jungkook groaned in irritation, knowing it wasn’t the best idea to get stupidly drunk at the bowling alley.

“Jiminie will you drive us home?” Hani tried to act cute, but ended up looking like a drunken mess. “Pleaseeee”

Y/n looked over to him. “If you could…”

Jungkook drove them all there so at least one of them had to stay sober.

She wasn’t drunk like the rest of them but she was a bit tipsy. She didn’t feel comfy with driving.

After a long exercise of trying to take off their bowling shoes and replace them, the group finally made it to the car.

“Not enough room— Let me sit on your lap.” Jeonghwa whined, sitting on Jungkook’s lap. who happily agreed.

Y/n was buckling up in the front seat.

“You probably don’t want to ever take us out again.”

“No, I like this.” He chuckled. “It’s funny.”

“Are you saying that just because?”

“No.” Jimin began driving Jungkook’s car. “It’s refreshing. Yeah it’s sticky and gross but you guys are actually cool people to be around.”

“I don’t see how you feel that way, but that’s sweet.”

His heart dropped at her reply, suddenly feeling a bit nervous.

He wasn’t ill, but he definitely didn’t feel good. Maybe anxious, or some sort of nervous sweat.

How strange.

They pulled up to Y/n’s apartment. The two worked together to get the drunken adults in the car and into the guest rooms in Y/n’s extra bedroom.

“They’re kinda cramped in there.” He eyes the adults.

“Does it matter?” Y/n spoke. “They’ll figure it out.”

“Guess so.”

“Did you want to spend the night too?” She offered. “Your cars still over there. He just take you in the morning to get it.”

“You sure?”

She nodded. “Of course. The least I can do for you helping put up with them.”

“That would be nice yeah.” He smiled. “Are you going to sleep right now?”

“Nah, I’m wide awake honestly.” She shrugged. “Recently I haven’t been sleeping until damn near 4.”

“Same here. Don’t know what it is.” He replied.

“Oh sorry. Jungkook and Taehyung actually have some clothes if you want to borrow them.” She suddenly remembered.

“Yeah I’ll take them. I feel sweaty and gross.” He made a sour face.

“Go shower.” Y/n grabbed him some clothes for him to wear.

“Thank you so much.” He smirked. “You’re actually a really good host.”

“Yeah, that’s only for tonight only. Every time after this you’re on your own.”

“You think I’ll be over again? Nice to know you’ve thought that far ahead about me.” He tilted his head.

“Well— I don’t know. Just go shower.” She shooed him.

She was warming up to him. He could feel it.

He took the clothes and went over to her bathroom.

As he got in her shower he couldn’t help but have a stupid grin on his face, thinking of how cute she looked when he spoke.

He couldn’t help but be nosy. He examined her shower, looking at all the products she had.

“So many vanilla scents.” He mumbled to himself.

He barely knew anything about her. Everything he knew was simply an assumption.

The two spoke rarely ever and a lot of the knowledge he had came from being one of her followers on social media. He wasn’t sure she even followed him back.

Her friends spoke about her a lot. Telling him all sorts of adventures they had.

Her friends cared about her a lot, all four of them spoke so well about her.

It made him grow curious about her.

He finished up his shower, getting out and drying himself off.

He changed into the clothes she provided him.

He smelt just like her. The clothes he was wearing and the scents from the body wash he used.

He didn’t mind at all, he felt so comfortable and relaxed.

He got out of the bathroom, walking out to the living room where Y/n was on the couch.

“Feel better?” She looked over at him.

Her voice was like honey to his ears, even if before it was a few sentences here and there.

He nodded. “Much better. You have so many options to clean my body with.”

“I love vanilla scented anything. So I stocked up.” She laughed. “The boys hate it. They don’t understand how I’d want to smell like something edible.”

“I love it.” Jimin took a seat next to her.

“Oh it smells good.” She got a whiff of him once he sat down on the couch. “I must smell so good.”

“You do. I took a sniff earlier.” He joked.

“Cause that doesn’t sound creepy.” Y/n laughed.

“You’re such a hater.” He shook his head. “It was a compliment.”

“Creepy ass way of complimenting someone.” She giggled.

“Whatever.”

“Yeah, whatever.” She mocked him, “I’m gonna watch something.”

“Oh you’re gonna hang out with me on the couch?”

“You sound so excited.” She teased him. “You thought I’d go to my room and shut the door?”

“Something like that.” He shrugged. “We’re not too close so I figured you’d avoid me.”

“Why would I do that?” She furrowed her eyebrows. “You’re everyone else’s friend. Shouldn’t I get familiar with you too?”

“That’s true.” He agreed.

“Want to build a fort?” She blurted out randomly.

“You can’t be serious. At your big age?” He snapped his head in her direction.

“I’m up, you’re up. Wouldn’t it look suspicious if me and you are on the couch together when they wake up?”

Her logic didn’t make much sense. It’s more difficult to explain the fort.

But who was he to say no to a pretty girl asking him to build a fort?

“Okay fine.”

༊—

“This looks so bad.”

“Well they have all my blankets. What do you expect?”

It was a very sad attempt at a fort. With about 3 blankets a few chairs holding it up, it was the saddest fort she’d made in a while.

“You sounded like you knew what you were doing. I just went along with it.” He shook his head, turning her TV to face the entrance.

“It’s called fake it till you make it.” She told him, tossing some pillows inside. “Clearly that didn’t work out in this case.”

“I think it’s sorta cute. Especially with these pink girlie blankets.” He crawled inside with her, his legs almost sticking out.

“In its own way— sorta.” She agreed, climbing next to him.

“And you said this was better than being seen on the couch.” Jimin mumbled.

They were even closer than they were on the couch.

Their legs were touching and they were forced to be close to one another.

“Mm yeah. But it’s cuter like this no?”

“For us maybe. For them we just look like freaky losers.” Jimin joked, making her laugh.

“Yeah I guess that’s true.” She put on a movie for the two to watch.

The two cuddled under the blanket, finding themselves oddly comfortable with one another.

Jimin kept sneaking glances at Y/n.

She was prettier up close.

And she was actually funny, hilarious even.


The camera didn’t do her enough justice. Sure, she was beautiful on screen but damn she looked even better in real life.

She was cute. Her little giggles made him smile and he was more drawn to her with each sentence.

The two talked for hours, watching multiple movies under the fort together.

He felt like he really got to know her good. The forced proximity made it much easier for him to communicate with her.

She was able to know Jimin for Jimin. Not just her friend’s friend.

She wished she had been around a bit more.

It would be a lie to say she didn’t check him out multiple times during their talks.

She instantly felt comfortable with him, just like how she was with Jungkook and Taehyung.

Except in a slightly different way.

“Damn I wish I went that night. That’s so funny” Y/n’s cheeks hurt from giggling.

“Why didn’t you?” He asked her.

“Studying. Always.” She sighed.

“You can take more study breaks. You’re taking one now aren’t you?”

“I mean yeah.”

“And it feels good huh? Don’t stress yourself out too much or you’re gonna crash out.” He scolded her.

“Yeah okay dad.” She rolled her eyes playfully.

“Awe, why not daddy?”

“You’re gonna make me throw up.” She fake gagged.

“Whatever. You’re no fun.” He pouted cutely.

“Oh I’m plenty fun.”

“Sure you are.”

“I am!” She argued.

“Oh you must be. Cooped up in the house all day and then going out with your friends ever so often to do what? More studying?” He cocked his eyebrow. “So much fun.”

He got here there, making her grumble. “Whatever.”

“Awe her feelings are hurt.” He baby talked her. “Come here baby Y/n.” He opened his arms up to her.

She fell into his embrace, pretending to be hurt.

“Poor Y/n.” He leaned closer, his hand reaching out to brush a stray lock of hair out of her face.

She looked up before meeting his eyes with hers.

The two remained eye contact with each other for a minute.

He holds her gaze, his heart pounding in his chest as he feels the tension building between the two.

He leans in closer, his breath hitching as he feels her breath against his lips.

The two naturally collided into a sweet kiss. He closes his eyes as he feels her lips against his, a surge of emotion coursing through him.

His arms wrap around her waist as he deepens the kiss, feeling lost in the moment.

When he finally pulls away, she looks at him. “Jungkook is gonna kill me.” She chuckled.

Jimin couldn’t help but smile into their next kiss before the kiss deepens once again.

His hands wander up her back, pulling her closer to him. He breaks the kiss again, his forehead resting against hers as he catches his breath.

“Goddamn that’s addicting.” Jimin kissed her again, getting rougher with his mouth.

The kisses were now wet and sloppy, demanding more and more.

His tongue slipped into her mouth as he explored every inch of it. His hands wandered down to her ass, squeezing it tightly as he grinds against her.

She could feel herself growing wet from just his kisses alone, whining into his mouth.

He can feel her liquid arousal and it only makes him want her more.

“Fuck, I’m wet.” She whined into his mouth.

He growls, his lips trailing down to her neck as he begins to nibble and suck on it.

He can feel her growing wetter and it only makes him harder. He reaches down, his hand slipping into her pants as he begins to rub her clit.

She knew she had to be quiet because her friends were in the other room but she couldn’t help herself. “J-Jimin.” She whimpered.

He smirks against her neck, his fingers moving faster against her clit. He can hear the desperation in her voice and he loves every second of it.

He sucks on her neck harder, leaving a few marks as he continues to pleasure her. "Shh, we can’t have them wake up? Specially not to their precious Y/n whining like that. Filthy girl.”

His fingers moved faster, feeling how wet and ready she was. He groans, his own desire growing with every whimper and moan that escaped her lips.

"You like that, baby? You like it when I make you cum?" He whispers, his lips trailing down to her ear.

“Mhm.. so good.” She tried her best to stay decently quiet, enough for only Jimin to hear.

He shivers at the feeling of her warm breath against his ear. He can feel his desire building up.

He knows he needs to be inside her soon. "I need to fuck you, baby. I need to feel you around me now already."

He knows he should stop now, but he also knows he won't be able to control himself once he gets inside her.

“Are you on anything? I don’t have a condom” He looked down at her as he laid her on her back.

“On the pill.” She replied, a hint of whining in the tone of her voice.

He slid her panties to the side. He was almost in shambles once he seen her glistening pussy in front of him.

"Fuck... I'll pull out, okay? I need to be inside you." He slid his boxers down. “Can’t wait for this pretty pussy.”

He positions himself at her entrance, his eyes locked onto hers. He can feel the heat radiating off her and it's driving him crazy.

He slowly starts to push inside of her, his breath hitching as he feels her tight walls gripping him. "Fuck... you feel so good Y/n"

He groans at the feeling of her squeezing around him. He starts to move his hips, thrusting in and out of her. "You feel so fucking good, baby. I won't last long."

Took them this long to finally meet, this was definitely the best introduction.

Her pussy was so wet and warm, inviting him in instantly the second he slid inside of her.

Their skin slapping sounds echoed through the living room. It didn’t help that Jimin was picking up the pace.

“Fuck— We’re gonna make them wake up.” She mumbled against his ear, almost dying trying to stay silent.

He smirks against her neck as he continues to thrust into her, the feeling of being so close to the edge only turning him on more.

"It's so hot, knowing we could get caught. You're so fucking hot for this, Y/n.” He leaned forward, kissing on her neck some more.

“Using every excuse in the book not to meet me. Always studying.” He continued. “Now look at you.” He chuckled.

His words went in her ears and straight to her pussy, making her whine.

He groans and thrusts deeper, his hips snapping harder as he feels her start to tremble beneath him. "That's it, Y/n. Cum for me. I want to feel you cum all over my cock."

“Fuck I’m cumming.” She whined out his name multiple times before the two both reached their high.

Jimin pulled out, cumming on her stomach.

“Shit.” He cursed, instantly cleaning her up.

“Wow.” She panted. “That was something.”

“Yeah. I would stay home too if my pussy was that good.” Jimin added, cleaning her up.

“That good?” She rose her eyebrow. Jimin looked up at her seriously.

“That good.”

“Fuck it.” Y/n looked out the window. She could see the sun rise.

“One more round before they get up?”

[cookie-crumblr]

I miss professor reichsgraf

GN! Bad Student Reader x Professor OC!

Minors DNI

CW: GN! Reader, reader referred to as they/them, no body descriptions for reader, lots of swearing tbh lol, reader is RUDE (just because they’re sleepy! we still stan🥰) spanking, pet names for reader(good kitten, darling), Sub!Reader, reader has hair(not described just enough to grab), fingering (not specified which hole dw), nipple play, crying reader, tetro?, overstim, dubcon(no proper safeword), sado maso, p in hole, not proofread.

(IDK i hope it turned out okay, it doesn’t seem the way i want it, but i can’t tell rn if it’s just me T.T)

“You are, quite possibly the worst student i’ve ever had the misfortune of teaching.”

You mock him on the phone with your bestie.

“Stupid ass over qualified teacher.”

“Fur reaaaalll. my gods, what an asshole!” they respond.

“It’s too bad he’s so hot. What a waste.” You resume what you were doing and hold the phone between your ear and shoulder.

“I would tap, i wonder if he’s into that like teacher/student play…” they trail off.

“Ew. please don’t fantasize about my dickwad professor. At least with me around,” You feign gagging.

The next day in class you’re slouching, hoping to the gods that he just forgets you exist so that you can try and catch up on your assignments… But Fuck it’s so hard! You don’t have time for school work when you’re home, because you’re usually sleeping, after your two jobs. And all these pompous professors do is give homework!!! ALL OF THEM.

It’s the end of the ninety minute mark and you, along with everyone else, starts packing your things.

“Y/L/N. Stay behind a minute.” Professor Reichsgraf sighs, and tosses an empty cup into the trash can.

“Uuuuuuhhhhhhhhhhhhhhg!” You groan, thankfully the room is loud enough that he might not of even—

“Gods, you’d swear I told you that you’re going to jail,” He laughs. He’s sat behind the desk a little slouched like normal, head in a hand, elbow on a stack of papers (probably so it’s more comfortable) you tsk out loud at your thoughts, before pretending to yawn.

What a class A assho-

“Have a seat,” he asks.

“This will take that long??” You sigh out frustratedly.

“Gods, you young peop—”

“Oh don’t you ‘young people these days’ Me, mister!”

“It’s Doctor.”

“Oooo big dif. Fuck off” You cross your arms and roll your eyes.

He rolls his own, “Just sit.”

With a *plop*! into the seat, you do.

The professor stands, his hand lazily traces a knot in his desk as he rounds the table and approaches you slowly. “I don’t usually do this…”

“Woah, Um isn’t there like a rule against—”

“What!?” He furrows his brow then massages it quickly between his finger and thumb. “No, i’m offering to tutor you,” He sighs in annoyance.

“Oh really?” You would still really like to at least pass… “Okay fine.”

“What? really? no deals needed?” He looks you over.

shrugging, you say, “I mean what are you offering?”

“Nope, it’s a done deal, you already signed the dotted line crossed your t’s and all that.” He steps ever closer, and leans on the table you’re sat at.

“When do we start?”

~

You’ve had a few sessions with your professor but nothing seems to be working, the information just isn’t sticking until…

“Bend over.” Reichsgraf growls, head in his hand in frustration.

“Excuse me?” Your brows raise in shock.

“Bend over my knee, right now. You aren’t learning this way.”

You think at first he’s lying. Just trying to make you uncomfortable or something, maybe a bee flew into his coffee this morning so he’s taking it out on you. You don’t know. But you do it. You get down, lay over his lap and wait.

His hand massages your rump, “Now what’s the answer to number five?”

“A?”

A hand comes down onto your flesh with a *Smack!*

“Ow!” You yelp! “What the fuck!?”

“What is the answer to number five? Don’t just guess.”

“Is it not A?” You ask, it looks right… Right?

*SMACK!”

“OW!!” You yelp again, louder this time, it stings so much more the second time!

“You know the answer.”

“C!” You suddenly remember something he said about it yesterday, and he’s right, you did know the answer!

“Good job, I’m impressed.” He isn’t lying, he really is. Only two spanks on the first time? Maybe he had been hoping for more though, to be honest.

It’s a unique way to have to learn like this, but with you, he’s happy to oblige. All the time spent being frustrated that you couldn’t commit even the simplest knowledge to memory, he can finally get rid of…

“Okay now six.”

“Do we have to do the whole assignment like this?”

“Yes. Six.”

You shout, “A!”

*Smack!*

“Shit! I mean B!” You wince.

“You guessed again. Read the answer, and tell me why it’s correct.”

“Do i have to? I got it right that time.”

Suddenly the hand on your rear moves to your clothed sex, he presses down hard and trails along the divide. A gnawing heat starts to grow in your lower half quickly.

“Hey! wait-!”

“We don’t have the time. what is the answer to seven?”

“D!”

“Good Kitten,” His baritone seems even deeper somehow, as he rubs you harder, your jeans are getting too hot to bare. “We need these off.” He tugs on your back belt loop.

“Yeah…” You shock yourself when you agree so readily. You stand to unbutton them and get them off, but he slaps your hands away and takes your pants off for you.

Your body gets thrown around until your bent over the desk and the wood’s digging into your hip bones.

“Professor-!”

A growl escapes his throat. his hair is messier than usual when you turn back to look, before he grabs yours and steers you forward.

His fingers enter you first, already setting a fast pace, he curls them and scissors them; all while pistoning so fast you feel like you’re already teetering on the edge. “Such a good kitten, you’re doing so good for me,” He hums deeply in his throat.

You whine and wriggle, until he tenses his grip in your hair and on your hip. His hand fans out over your skin and gropes you the entire way up to your chest, pressing a traveling dent into your stomach and over your ribs. Your brows peak, and your mouth hangs open.

“Seven.”

“SERIOUSLY???” You stomp, way to take you out of it.

*SLAP!* Your ass was sore from the earlier abuse, to be slapped now stings so brutally!!!

“F-fuck!!” You shake.

“Seven. Now.” His hand is raised and prepped to hit you again.

You shimmy and jump, “No, no more please!!”

*SLAP!*

“AHH!” You screech! “ummm,” You read the question rapidly through bleary eyes, “D! D! It’s D!!!” You shout and writhe in his grasp.

“I’m so proud of you, I knew you could do this,” He rubs something cooling on your ass cheek and it feels so much better!

“Oh thank you thank you oh my gods.” you let out so much air you feel dizzy. His cock starts to rub against you, making your dizzy spell last longer. it’s so hot and hard and.. LONG! Holy shit it’s so long! You’re gonna be speared to death on that thing! You drool at the anticipation! “Fuck me.” You say it in a long groan as an expression but also mean it very much.

“You deserve it, you’ve been doing so good,” Holy shit, his words strike some heavenly chord that opens your pearly gates wide for him, and he enters without resistance, taking his time to really appreciate your interior.

“Holy shit!” You can’t help the obscenities, they just fall from your lips naturally, you’re so surprised at all of this, at yourself for willingly doing it, at your hot teacher for wanting you in the first place, at so many things…. Most of all at how HOT his dick is like molten lava inside you and it feels fucking DIVINE.

“You’re such a good kitten,” He rubs you as you take his length.

His movements are calculated, every single one. No matter how fast they hit your spots like a master martial artist targeting pressure points. You aren’t getting a break from his assaults every strike is a critical blow. Even when he slows down his spongey head sweetly kisses those spots igniting obscene fires that don’t have time to burn out before being reignited fully.

You’re getting close, so painfully close to a volcanic eruption, your bubbling!

“Cum for me, darling” He leans down over your back, to whisper into your ear, his voice gravely and so low.

“AHH!!!” You scream out and your whole body goes rigid and convulses, his own cum shoots inside you and you take all of it.

“So good for me, you took me so well, darling…” His eyes practically have hearts in them.

[beefscrap]

!!! DESIGN A STORY CHARACTER CONTEST !!!

Finally, it’s here! To celebrate 400 PLUS followers now, I’m hosting a WOF design challenge/contest! Your mission is to design a character that’s going to appear in TBoFS 2. The character is already decided, and you’ll be given information/prompts to design them. First place winner will have their design be the official design for the character, and anyone who doesn’t win can keep theirs! So keep in mind that if you win, I’ll be the ‘owner’ of your design and the character.

!!! GENERAL INFO !!!

- 1ST PLACE PRIZE: Your design will be the official design in the story! You also get a free dumb doodle from me of any OC (or character) you want.

- 2ND PLACE + 3RD PLACE: You’ll each receive a doodle, as well as being featured as winners when they’re announced! Of course!

- Anyone else who submits a design will get honorable mentions, and your design will be linked when winners are announced.

- Very little artistic bias is involved. Not being able to ‘draw well’ isn’t an issue, as long as you have good ideas and a good imagination!

- DESIGNS ARE DUE BY [ Friday, December 20th ] !!! I’ll have results by December 25th!

- I’ll personally be picking the top 3, then put a poll up that lasts for 1 DAY. This will determine the winners.

- TO SUBMIT YOUR DESIGN: Either tag me in a post or send in my asks inbox! I will be reblogging/posting with the hashtag #TBOFS2DESIGNCHALLENGE (and you can post with the tag too ofc!)

- Please ask questions if you have them!

!!! RULES !!!

- I have faith in people but PLEASE BE NICE! I don’t want fighting for any reason, I don’t want unwanted criticism of people’s designs, etc. I want this to be enjoyable for EVERYONE, even if you don’t win!

- You may only submit ONE DESIGN! If there’s some sort of issue where you need to resubmit, just let me know!

- Another reminder that the first place winner gives me ownership of the design, and I’ll put them up on my Toyhouse folder. Please don’t submit to win if you’re uncomfortable with this!

- I have faith about this too, but just in case: don’t submit inappropriate art. If I find out you draw gross feral art/sexualize dragons I won’t accept your design and you’re blocked.

- Similarly, no design you submit should be offensive or hateful in any way.

!!! DESIGN INFO !!! finally the fun stuff

- The character is a PURE NIGHTWING.

- I prefer to stick to MOSTLY canon color choices, but some deviation from this is welcome! Ask if you aren’t sure, but feel free to look at the character designs in my TBoFS Toyhouse folder. That should give a good idea.

- Adding accessories and even little headcanons for the character are fully welcomed and encouraged (keeping in mind that some headcanons may not end up to be true, lol!)

- Name ideas are welcome, too!

- YOUR GENERAL PROMPT IS: a snobby, intelligent, standoffish Nightwing who does not believe in animus magic as it exists.

- Keeping my prompt pretty vague so you can have fun! The best designs (to me) are ones that’re recognizable. Not necessarily jam packed with accessories and colors and stuff… just recognizable.

- Your designs may be sketched, lined, etc, but my main requirements are that it’s at least a fullbody + colored. You CAN add more visuals to the design if you want (front face view, mouth view, paws, wing view, etc etc). It does NOT have to be digital!

Woo hoo! Have fun and thank you again for your support!

[liveyun]

tomorrow | p.jm

title. tomorrow

pairing. park jimin x fem oc (named y/n)

rating. T

genre. supernatural themes, mystery, horror, angst (?)

warnings. coarse language, reader discretion highly recommended. contains death but no gore, mild horror, english is Not my first language ™

word count. 2.6k +

The library wasn’t Jimin’s usual haunt.

In fact, he couldn’t remember the last time he’d willingly stepped inside one. He never liked the library ; it was so downright boring. He knew there were better things to enjoy in his campus which were much better than this — but with the cold wind biting at his neck and the campus quad too noisy for his liking, he had wandered in.

It was more like a distraction than a destination.

The heavy silence pressed against his ears as he slumped into a seat by the window, his chin resting on his palm. His table was empty — no books, no notes, nothing that might suggest he had any serious intentions of studying or anything closer to that.

He tapped his pen against the wooden surface in a lazy rhythm, watching the snowfall outside.

And that’s when his eyes landed on you.

You were seated at a table in the corner, your posture straight but not stiff, your eyes scanning the pages of a worn paperback intensely. A stray lock of hair fell across your cheek, but you didn’t brush it away. Instead, you stayed perfectly still, immersed in whatever story was hidden between the pages.

Unlike most of the students who filtered in and out of the library, you didn’t seem rushed or distracted. There were no frantic flips of the page or exasperated sighs of someone cramming for an exam. Your movements were deliberate, calm — too calm, even.

Jimin frowned, leaning back in his chair. You were familiar, though he couldn’t quite place why. Maybe it was because of your bag carelessly slung over the back of your chair. A model student, maybe? Or just someone who liked their own company?

He tilted his head, studying you like a puzzle he couldn’t quite piece together. He knew your name — although he feigned ignorance for the most part. There was a quietness about you that felt out of place — not just in the library, but in life itself.

Like you were a shadow passing through the world rather than living in it.

It bothered him, though he wasn’t sure why. Maybe it was the way you didn’t fidget, didn’t glance at the clock or check your phone like everyone else did. Bothered him in such a way which had him narrowing his eyes at you, a faint smirk tugging at the corner of his lips. Or maybe it was the faint crease in your brow, the kind that made him wonder if the story you were reading was actually that interesting.

Boredom forgotten, Jimin leaned forward, resting his elbows on the table. He licked his lips, his teeth gently nibbling on the plump flesh. You fasicnated him enough to not feel himself being bored to death, so, he decided that he should try and do something which would entertain him further.

So he decides to sit just beside you.

“Aren’t you just always reading?” he grins, his voice just loud enough to carry across the quiet space.

Your eyes flicked up to meet his for the briefest moment, and something about the way they held his gaze made his breath catch. Then, without a word, you returned to your book, as if he hadn’t spoken at all.

Now that was something Jimin couldn’t ignore.

“Not even going to say hi?” he asked, leaning closer.

“Hi,” you said softly, not looking up this time.

To say Jimin was offended was an understatement. How can someone ignore Park Jimin?

That was it. He reached over and plucked the book from your hands, your lack of resistance or reaction slightly surprising him again. “What’s so special about this old thing?” The cover of the book is faded, the texture a bit rough with its corners frayed, but he doesn’t care about that.

What he cares about is riling you up.

But you just sit there, watching him with an expression so blank it’s almost mocking. “You can keep it if you want,” you say softly. “Tear it, throw it, do whatever. I don’t care.”

His eye twitched at the nonchalance of your tone. Were you doing this on purpose to piss him off?

“And why is that?”

“It’s not mine.”

Jimin blinks.

What?

“I saw you pull it out of your bag.”

Your gaze drops to your clasped hands. For a moment, you seem almost… thoughtful, as if the gears in your head are working overtime to formulate the reply.

“I took it from an accident site,” you reply.

What? except that it wasn’t just inside his head. If anyone would see him, his thoughts were visible on his face, just like how subtitles are, on the bottom of the screen.

“What?” His voice pitched and he felt his brows knit together.

You leaned back, tilting your head as if recounting a casual memory. “The person was already dead. Hit-and-run, I think. They were grasping it, so I took it.”

You say it in such a manner almost as if you are talking about the evening’s weather.

“What?” His grip tightened on the book. “You just. . . took it? Did you call anyone? Cops? Medics?”

“There were people already there,” you said with a shrug. “What was I supposed to do?”

What were you supposed to do!? Jimin stared at you, his pulse racing. “You could’ve. . . I don’t know!” Damn it. He definitely should’ve just attended the class which he felt like was important all of a sudden. There was a reason why he doesn’t ever visit libraries . “Done something instead of stealing a book from a dead person!”

You stood, brushing invisible dust off your coat. “I was planning to return it to their grave after I finished reading,” you said, your voice calm as ever. “But now it’s yours. So I guess that’s your responsibility.”

He gaped at you, his brown pupils shaking slightly. “No. No fucking way.” He held the book out as if it was some radioactive substance. Call him a lunatic, but he was already feeling it burn his hand. (Was he exaggerating? Maybe. But was he ready to accept the book for real? Fuck no.)

“I’m not keeping this!”

You smiled faintly, stepping away. “It’s already yours, Jimin.”

And then you leave, your footsteps barely audible.

Jimin found himself back in the library.

Not because he was bored. Not because he wanted to study — but because everything else was driving him nuts.

The book, Wuthering Heights, sat on Jimin’s desk back in his home like an accusation. He couldn’t bring himself to open it, no matter how hard he’d tried last night. Each time he felt his fingers itch to finally touch the book, his brain immediately imagined the lifeless hand that had clutched it last.

By nightfall, he couldn’t take it anymore. He drove to the cemetery, the book tucked under his arm, the cold slapping his skin like a belt.

Rows of graves had stretched before him, their names lost to time and shadow. He wandered between them, each step making him more impatient as he carried on. He felt like a halfwit. Who the fuck visits a cemetery to return a book? And why was he doing this?

He wasn’t scared of cemeteries by any means, but surely you don’t have balls of steel to be standing like a dumbfuck in the middle of a graveyeard at midnight without feeling anything. He didn’t even know what he was looking for — how could he?

He didn’t even know if the accident victim was buried here.

Fuck, he didn’t even know who was the victim in the first place.

He doesn’t exactly feel the most cheerful at the thought of so many lives being reduced to stones and dates.

Frustrated and uneasy, he’d left the cemetery, just wishing he’d never visited the library.

So the next day, he finds himself back in the library. He doesn’t know why — he could have just simply abandoned the book. Or just kept it under fate’s custody, because he surely 1) wasn’t a book nerd, 2) after knowing the source of the book, he definitely wasn’t interested in that book anymore.

Maybe he hopes to see you again, to demand some kind of explanation or even simply just return you the book. Only because he’s a decent human being and felt bad for leaving the book alone.

But you’re nowhere to be found.

“Shit,” Jimin muttered under his breath, running a hand through his hair. He slammed the book down on the nearest table, earning a sharp glare from the librarian. He waved her off with a sheepish smile but didn’t bother lowering his voice. That damn thing on the table felt like it was judging him with each step he took.

“What the hell am I even doing here?” he grumbled, flopping into a chair, truly exhausted.

”Jimin?”

He turned, or well, craned his neck up to see Namjoon standing a few feet away, an eyebrow raised in that familiar mix of confusion and mild disappointment, but he doesn’t look surprised.

Namjoon was exactly the type of a guy you would very much expect to see in a library. If he wasn’t wrong, he was a literature student with an endless supply of opinions, known for yapping on about bullshit Jimin really doesn’t care about, he was the last guy Jimin would want to run into.

Atleast, not now.

Namjoon adjusted his glasses as he glanced at Jimin.

“Did the sun rise from the west today?”

“What?”

“What is Park Jimin doing in a library?”

“Ha-ha, how funny.” Jimin shot back, rolling his eyes. “I was just, well, . . . . never mind.”

Namjoon pulled out a chair and sat across from him, his gaze flicking to the book on the table. “No seriously, what’s going on? You look, uh, kinda constipated.”

Jimin let out a frustrated sigh, leaning back in his chair. “You wouldn’t believe me if I told you.”

“Try me.”

Jimin exhaled sharply, running a hand through his hair as he launched into the story. “Okay, so yesterday, I was in here, right? There was this girl. Very concentrated. She was just sitting there, reading this book.” He motioned to the paperback sitting between them on the table.

“And I thought, you know what, a conversation won’t harm anyone. But she seemed to not give a single fuck about me!” Okay, Jimin feels his cheeks slightly heating at the way he just said it.

Anyway..

“She didn’t even flinch. Just looked at me all calm and said I could keep it, tear it up, do whatever the fuck I want to.”

“Mhm,” Namjoon leaned back in his chair, his arms crossed.

“And then,” Jimin said, leaning forward as his voice dropped, making sure no one could hear them. “she tells me it’s not even hers. She said she found it, at a fucking accident scene. Like, a hit-and-run. She just took it. . . out of the dead person’s hands!”

Namjoon’s face paled, but Jimin didn’t notice. He was too busy rambling.

“And you just. . . took it?”

“I didn’t even want the damn thing!” Jimin snapped, jabbing a finger toward the table. “I don’t want my own course books. How the hell would I want a book which looks like something which was probably printed like what, centuries ago?”

“But she just dropped it on me. I thought, fine, I’ll go to the cemetery — because, apparently, that’s the only thing I could think of. But guess what? I don’t even know who it belongs to.” Jimin grits his teeth, taking in a cool breath. He cannot be losing his shit over a book.

“What was I supposed to do? Wander around like an idiot, asking no one in general if someone is missing a book?”

Uhh...

… . .

Okay.. was that too much?

Namjoon hasn’t replied. For someone who has a say in everything and anything, it feels strangely quiet to see the taller guy being absolutely quiet, and even a bit. . . pale.

“Joon?” Jimin frowned. “You look like you just got your balls kicked.”

Namjoon’s hand trembled as he reached for the book, but he didn’t pick it up. His voice was barely above a whisper, his pupils shaking woldly.

“Jimin... This book. Are you sure she gave it to you?”

Jimin throws a nasty glare his way, frustrated. “I’m fucking sure. She was right there.” He pointed to the seat by the window, almost as if pointing that way would have you sitting there once again. “Oversized sweater, baggy jeans, muddy boots. What the fuck do you mean?”

Namjoon swallowed hard, his eyes darting between Jimin and the book. Finally, he stood up, grabbing Jimin by the shoulders. His voice dropped low, steady but trembling at the edges.

“Jimin, listen to me. Do you remember when our lectures got canceled last month?”

“What?” Jimin blinked, caught off guard by the sudden shift in topic. “I don’t even remember what I had for dinner last night. How the fuck wouldd I remember about lectures?” Jimin scowled. “What does that even have to do with the current topic?”

“They were canceled because of her,” Namjoon said, his grip tightening.

“Y/N. She died in a hit-and-run.”

?

“What?”

“A car hit her right outside campus and left her to die.”

Jimin shook his head, stepping back, an unamused laugh escaping his throat. “That’s not, ha, hah — she was here yesterday, Namjoon. And I talked to her.”

Namjoon’s voice cracked, but he pushed forward, firmly gripping Jimin’s shoulders. “I saw her, Jimin. I was there. She was lying in the street, and — and she was holding that exact book.”

“I remember it because we checked it out from the library together. But when the paramedics came, the book was gone.”

Jimin froze, his gaze blurring. No fucking way in hell. His heart pounded as his mind scrambled to process what Namjoon was saying.

“No.” His voice was barely a whisper. “That just doesn’t make sense. Stop fucking with me.”

Namjoon’s expression was grim, his voice low and firm. “You didn’t talk to her, Jimin. She’s gone. She’s been gone.”

“Okay, what the actual fuck are you saying?” Jimin snapped, his heart racing now. “She was literally sitting here yesterday. Like, I swear on everything, she was here. I talked to her.”

Namjoon’s face morphs into a look of pure defeat, his grip loosening on his shoulders.

“And I saw her die.”

Jimin felt the bile rise up to his stomach. “Bro,” he whispered, his voice shaky. The room felt like it was spinning, and he was being forced down to stand with his wobbly limbs.

“What the fuck is going on?”

Just open it. It’s just a book.

The lamp’s light flickered as Jimin sat at his desk, hyper aware of everything around him — even the faint ticking of his table clock. He flexed his fingers, trying to shake off the nerves, but his palms were clammy, and the tremor in his hands wouldn’t stop.

He exhaled sharply, trying to steady himself. “It’s just a book,” he muttered, but it was something he himself couldn’t believe.

The room felt unnaturally quiet as his fingers brushed the cover.

The rough texture sent a chill skittering up his spine. Never ever even in his wildest dreams had he even thought that opening a book would make him shit his pants, but here he was. Slowly, he peeled it open, the spine creaking softly in the stillness.

The words were there, faint but deliberate, etched on the first page in a beautiful cursive drawl.

Return it to me.

He blinked, his mind scrambling for logic, for reason, but then his gaze dropped lower. There, written in neat, bold letters, was a date.

It wasn’t yesterday’s. It wasn’t today’s either.

It was tomorrow.

a/n : poor mimi 😔 if you enjoyed reading this, let me know what you think 💬 here’s the anon feedback box for you :-)

mlist | taglist

[anamericangirl]

As a Furry AND a Warhammer 40k fan, there is tragedy in both walks when it comes to the encroachment of LGBT.

For 40k it's been less profound but still VERY noticeable. Factions like the Adeptus Mechanicus, for example, are constantly being dragged into the Identity Politics Mud by midwit tourists who just discovered the hobby and can't think of any other lens to observe the media through. I remember somebody who painted her Tyrannids - TYRANNIDS - Giant Insect-Lizard Beast aliens that, ironically, invade planets to assimilate everything into their biomass in an all-consuming hive that leaves planets nothing but rock by the time they leave - in Trans Pride Colors because she herself is Trans and wanted to express her gender.

I get that it's her plastic, but it's so creatively bankrupt and narcissistic how these people take the communities and twist them to no longer be about the media itself but "How I can project myself into it."

It's one thing to have an OC in the universe that just so happens to be male/female/trans/gay/etc, but it's another when the first thing you say about them has to do with their special pairing of genitals and what they do with them.

As for the Furries, because so many of them fall into that spectrum (I'll admit I do too but I reject being called "LGBT"), the "Community" has largely been consumed by it. I went to my first Furry Convention and half of it was about Pride, which, if anything, felt even more arbitrary in its sheer propagation in the community.

Going to a furry convention and saying "I'm Gay" and expecting that to be your unique feature when you're surrounded by Gay Furries is ridiculous - but they encourage it anyway! HALF of the panels were about LGBT and PRIDE. They just jump into the collective without a second thought because it gives them validation kudos and backpats without ever talking about the thought process behind their Sona or what media they enjoy - heck, it's at the forefront of so many of them to wear Pronoun Tags or have Pride Pins or just outright put a pride symbol ON their fursona to express how "Important it is to them."

But WHY is it important? Is it really important or are you compensating for the reactionaries in your life by BEING a reactionary and quadrupling down on it to try and seek validation?

It's so redundant and takes away so much from any real "Community" as it just becomes a monotonous sludge of rainbow flags.

I feel you dude it sucks when your hobby or anything you enjoy becomes all about lgbt activism and just focuses on diversity and pride more than anything else.

I never delved into the furry community but with the way it’s portrayed it pretty much comes across as another letter in the alphabet soup because it focuses so strongly on who’s gay and what you want to identify as more than it is about the actual hobby, which sucks for people aren’t invested in it for those reasons.

I remember going to a Broadway convention a while back because I’ve always loved Broadway musicals and while a big portion of Broadway lovers are lgbt it certainly is not about gender and sexuality but if feels like it is now. Everyone had pride pins and there were so many panels on diversity and sexuality and being an lgbt musical fan and representation and it was like um hello can this just be about musicals again? Why we are we focusing so much on one group of fans? This is something we can all come together on and appreciate together and instead you’re making it about you yet again.

[ya9amicide]

Redamancy [BTS]

chapter one

♡ info ♡ k-pop masterlist ♡ next chapter ♡

summary: Hybrids were accepted in society to a certain degree. To some, they are for entertainment. Used as sex and money tools. To lock up and abuse whenever and however they please. Something to have control over. To others, they are companions. Just like regular animals are used for therapy or simply companionship, hybrids are too.

To the rest, they are just like everyone else. Someone with their own life who deserves the same freedoms as your everyday John or Jane Doe. Wren is one of these people. She hates the idea of owning a hybrid. She has nothing against those who own them for medical or companionship reasons. Just the rest.

But, when a ragtag pack of seven mismatched hybrids somehow ends up in the woods behind her home, she takes them in and does the one thing she never thought she would do. Own them. But, she also does something she didn't even think was possible. She fell in love with each and every one of them.

pairing(s): ot7 x ot7, ot7 x oc

warnings: none

Most hybrids come from Asian countries because of the ethereal beauty they possess. For most, that is the only asset that keeps them alive. The way most of these hybrids end up in other countries is if they are sold to someone and brought there. Now, the entire world has hybrids mixed into its population.

Being a writer, I always get asked why I haven't written anything about hybrids. For a fantasy writer, it's like the jackpot of writing material considering they actually exist and all the information I would need is right at my fingertips if I want it to be.

It's just something that never sat right with me. I don't know everything and the only way to know everything is to speak to one myself. I don't own a hybrid. I won't own a hybrid. I have nothing against people who own them as long as they are treating them with care. But, I just don't feel comfortable interrogating someone for the purpose of a story.

Hybrids have very unique, very personal aspects to their lives that other people don't have. It would be like asking the deepest most personal questions about someone's life. It's unfathomably uncomfortable.

Luckily, I can escape the demands for hybrid content when I'm teaching. Teaching Greek mythology to college students has its perks in that regard. Which, leads me to where I am now, wrapping up my lecture for the day.

"Alright everyone, don't forget your homework for the weekend." Some students groan at the back of the room. I stand from behind my desk, walking around to the front where I lean against it with my hip. "Yes, yes, I know. Just be thankful you get a whole weekend for it, your other professors probably wouldn't be so nice. Now, any questions?"

Two hands raise in the air and I call on the first one to come up. "How many sources did we need to cite again?"

"At least three," I say. "You can use more if you'd like, I have no issue with that. However, I hope I don't need to remind you which types of websites aren't credible sources?"

Everyone shakes their heads and I nod, calling on the next person. "Will there be any time to come in to ask questions about our papers before Monday?"

"To come in, no. Unfortunately not. However, if you'd like you can email me with any questions you have or just send me a draft and I can read it for you and give you feedback that way. I will try to get back to you asap if I can. Just please do not email me Monday morning or late Sunday night as I will be asleep and it will be too late for you."

When I finish speaking everyone shuffles in their seats. "Any more questions?" When nobody else speaks up, I lean upright from my position in front of my desk. "If that's all then you are all free to go. Have a good weekend." I receive goodbyes from almost every student as they leave. Once the last one does, I shuffle all of my belongings together and leave the room, locking the door.

On my way home, it starts to rain. It's been in the forecast all week but it was only supposed to be a slight drizzle. This, however, is a torrential downpour. Pulling into my driveway and parking, I brace myself to make a run for it. There's no way I won't get drenched.

Walking inside, I toe off my shoes and drop my things by the door before going upstairs to change into warm and comfy clothes for the evening. Walking into the kitchen for food, I pass the large, sliding glass doors that lead to my backyard and the woods behind my house.

Cereal for dinner sounds good. With a bowl of dry cereal in one hand and a glass of milk in the other, I make my way to the living room. On the way, I pass by the glass door again. Lighting strikes, lighting up the yard and the woods in the distance. In the treeline, I almost swear I can see an animal. It's not super big, but it's not small either. Surprisingly, even with the woods bordering my house, not many animals make their way out. so, seeing one now is slightly odd.

I set my food down on the coffee table and move back to the kitchen, making a plate of food for...whatever is out there. If it's in the woods in a storm like this, it must be hungry. Sliding open the glass door, I set the plate down on the porch under the awning and move back inside where I sit on the couch with my own food and the tv playing in front of me.

I'm around two episodes into the show I was watching when I hear footsteps on the back porch. They're small but loud enough for me to hear through the rain which has settled down into a soft drizzle. Standing, I make my way to the door, trying to keep my steps light and my posture open so whatever is out there doesn't feel threatened by me.

When I'm close enough to see what it is, I find a German Shepherd right before it shifts and a man is left in its place. My hand reaches out for the door handle when he sees me. His eyes widen and he scrambles to pocket all of the food and make a run for the woods.

I quickly open the door trying to stop him. "Wait, please! You don't have to go." He freezes in his steps, halfway off the porch. "I- I can give you more food if that isn't enough. And some water too if you want?" He's thin and pale and shaking like a leaf where he stands. "Please?" My voice is soft, I'm afraid if I speak too loud he'll run away. "I just want to help."

It feels like we stare at each other for hours before he nods his head, barely enough for me to see but it's still a nod. "Okay, okay that's good," I say and lead him inside. "Let me get you a towel so you can dry off, you must be cold." I don't wait for him to respond before I rush off to get it. When I come back, he's in the same spot I left him.

"Here," I hand him the towel and watch as he wraps it around himself. Slowly, his shivering starts to calm down. "Do you have any preferences?"

He looks at me strangely, head tilting to the side. The ears on the top of his head flop to the side softly, the fur wet. "To eat? Is there anything in particular you want? Anything I should avoid?" He seems to take a minute to process what I asked him before he slowly shakes his head. "Okay. You can um...you can come wait in the kitchen while I get you something if you want."

He timidly walks in behind me and watches everything I do. I decided on soup. Hopefully, the warmth from the food would make him feel better. "Is it just you?" I ask timidly.

"No," he says softly after some hesitation.

"Are- are they close? Whoever you're with?"

"Yes."

I pause what I'm doing. Maybe I should make more soup..."How many of you are there?" How much food am I going to need to make?

He shifts uncomfortably. "Seven. Including me."

"Do they want to come in? You can invite them if you want." I avoid looking at him, continuing to make more food.

"What?" He sounds surprised and wary.

"Only if you want. I mean," I stop and chuckle slightly, "seven versus one? If I were to try anything, which I won't, I think you all have the advantage. Don't you think?"

He waited for a few minutes, probably trying to see if I was pulling his leg. "Okay." He slowly makes his way to the sliding door, I can feel his eyes on me, keeping me in his sight. Leaving the door open, he shifts back into a German Shepherd and lets out a loud howl towards the forest. Anything else beyond that, I don't hear because of the volume of the storm raging outside. It was around 15 minutes before he came back inside, several pairs of footsteps shuffling in behind him.

I freeze, gently putting down what was in my hands before slowly turning to face the group of hybrids in my home.

[therealslimshakespeare]

WIP teaser

I got myself a lovely little request over a week ago for a Nurse!xBuck fic. Well, hi, it’s me, can’t not take that and run with it straight off the edge of the known world. I don’t even have a fixed name for it yet but I’ve been enjoying AU-ing our familiar faves to death with it

MOTA Pacific Theatre AU: yeah, you heard that right. Maybe it’s the anniversary of Iwo Jima currently happening or maybe it’s my ongoing crush on Ensign Jane Kendeigh, or -more likely- my subconscious awareness that nurse OC’s are a pretty favorited bunch for fandom writers, so I’ve found myself mixing it up entirely.

We’ve got Navy Flight Nurses and we’ve got Lt. Commander Doc Egan and co-pilots Cleven and Demarco who aren’t too fond of having to fly cargo planes full of wounded out of war zones all due to flight surgeon John Egan’s special request to have Cleven chauffeur him around. Oh yeah, and somehere in here there’s a developing thing between Cleven x oc Nurse!Ensign Maureen Kendeigh

TW: blood? Use of the word “Jap”

…

“You got it, commander.”

More than a little sure her mission was more provoking than necessary, Maureen still obeyed and followed Brady up the length of the plane and towards his station, then past it to poke her head between the pilots’ seats.

“Well, well, this is a pleasant surprise, getting car sick, kiddo?” Demarco joked, “Hey, I get it, I’d find it hell back there with no windows to look out.”

“Those mortars obligingly made a few.” Maureen joked back.

“Anybody hurt?” Cleven asked, and to her surprise, he turned from his panel to look at her with unmasked concern.

A joke was ready made there about everyone quite literally being shot to hell but she sensed he’d not appreciate it and following some uninterpreted impulse of desiring his good opinion, she hardly wished to repay his earnestness with flippancy. “Only one.”

“How bad?”

“He looked -dead.” Maureen admitted, she hadn’t gotten a good look at the man moving past him but she’d seen Egan’s treatment of the body and it wasn’t promising.

Cleven’s jaw worked overtime at the news and something snapped in his mouth, followed by a soft curse from lips too full and soft to always be so stern. Maureen thought he may have broken a tooth with all that tension but he spit out two halves of a bloodied toothpick instead. It fell to his pant leg.

“Major Cleven, sir, you’re bleeding.” It had drawn Maureen’s attention to his wet lap.

“That’s what I said.” Demarco agreed.

“It’s somebody else’s.” Cleven shook his head.

“You know if you pass out on me-“ Demarco warned, completely ignoring Cleven’s denial.

“-that’s why we’ve got co-pilots.” Cleven finished for him with a maddening smirk that made Benny Demarco throw his hands up.

“Can you check him?” he asked, “I mean -you are a nurse!”

“What? Hell no!” Major Cleven spooked for the first time all day at the suggestion, glancing quickly from his reddened trousers, behind him to Maureen Kendeigh, and back again. “I’m fine.” he declared in a firm tone that dettered her almost as much as the challenge of getting over the instruments and a steering column to pull down his pants and look. “Ensign Kendeigh, was there a purpose to your visit?” He redirected, resolutely ignoring Demarco’s unabated concerns.

“Yes sir,” she replied, meekly as she could, “Doc Egan asked me to remind you that you’re not flying a bomber. To mind the oxygen, sir. And that it’s cold.”

Cleven let out a mirthless little laugh. “We’re full of holes Ensign, of course it’s cold.”

“I know sir.”

“Yeah, ‘course you know,” his eyes lightened for a moment and Maureen almost deluded herself he was being chummy when he murmured next, “you’re smart like that. Tell the Lieutenant Commander I’ll keep her nice and low, so low the Jap navy gunners can blow the floor out without a sweat.”

“Thank you, Major.” Maureen chirped, pleased to have been trusted with a bit of morbid humor -it was the truest test of being taken seriously a woman could hope for in the service.

“Thank you, Ensign.” And with that she was dismissed.

[mothmanssweetsucculentass]

Ok here’s my two cents that no one asked for on the current (sort of?) debate going on in the Creepypasta fandom on here rn.

For starters, I grew up with Creepypasta. I also grew up mentally ill. I am also autistic. So I know my way around good and bad mental health rep at this point. And to be honest? A lot of the original stories DID suck balls at representation or just horror writing in general.

However, nowadays I see other people on here, often mentally ill or any other social outcast, taking these characters and reshaping them as their own to fit their own feelings and experiences, and I don’t think anyone has the authority to criticize things like that. Cringe culture is supposed to be dead anyways, nevermind the fact it’s inherently ableist at its core.

We also need to take into account kids still exist in the fandom. Pre teens who got tired of shit like scooby doo and wanted something more “mature” or “edgy” to get into without fully going off the deep end into full blown horror movies. At least that’s how it was for me. Not everyone, especially someone who’s younger, is gonna be comfortable with the grit and gore a lot of Creepypasta “purists” are pushing for these days, and that’s okay! When a fandom gets popular it’s always inevitable and unavoidable to have the popular characters get two dimensionalized.

There’s also the whole mascot horror thing that I don’t wanna get into, but I’m 90% sure that also plays a part in the old favorites like Jeff and slenderman being brought up again. They were and still are recognizable characters. Recognizable characters aren’t a bad thing. Making horror more approachable for younger audiences isn’t a bad thing. People having their own interpretations based out of their own experiences isn’t a bad thing.

Some of us grew up and wanted the more edgy and reality based content, and that’s also not a bad thing! But neither side should be dictating or policing how the other enjoys content in this fandom. If you personally don’t like the way something is written, characterized, depicted, or drawn, no one’s forcing you to look at it. No one’s claiming it as canon. No one’s asking for you to accept it as the end all be all.

At the end of the day this fandom was built on OCs and personal depictions of stuff. I can’t name a single character or story in this community that was created by some outside party like a movie or TV studio FIRST (because I know some got so popular they breached the fandom and got their own shows/movies/comics/etc). Everything here was created by someone who wanted an outlet for their creativity, or their pain, or their coping, or whatever else.

Realism and dark headcanons aren’t bad, and neither are any of the headcanons out there who just wanna make a goofy found family of social rejects as a form of escapism.

A 13 year old drawing a fictional layout of a fictional mansion where these fictional characters live isn’t going to suddenly invalidate the horror, I promise, it’s not that deep and it never was.

A 22 year old making a dark comic on the realistic origins of Jeff who is a fictional character in a fictional world isn’t going to suddenly invalidate the more softhearted side of the fandom.

Sure, there can still be a split if people are so adamant about that, but as someone who personally enjoys both the brutal horror side and the “haha Jeff is 15 and gay” sides equally, y’all need to at least learn to be civil to anyone who has a different headcanon than you. And if that seems like too much still, the block button exists for a reason.

TL:DR this fandom is based entirely off OCs and headcanons and people can do whatever the fuck they want because none of it is real and horror comes in many shapes and sizes and intensities and no one should be bashing anyone on their headcanons or views or rewrites or whatever else.

EDIT:

Actually wait I think I have more to say-

Horror, like any genre, has NO AGE LIMIT. And by that I mean, if someone younger wants to delve into scary stuff, they should be allowed to do so without criticism. I personally grew up on “child friendly” horror media like Scooby-Doo, and the older I got the more horror I wanted to experience.

There’s no right or wrong way to “understand” horror, and I frankly think it’s ignorant and stupid to say if you don’t fully “understand” something, then you shouldn’t be involved in it at all. Horror isn’t always about gore and unspeakable violence and the eldritch entity that wants everyone’s skin inside out. That’s why horror has sub genres for fucks sake. Gut wrenching brutality against innocent people isn’t everyone’s cup of tea and that’s okay!

However, bashing anyone’s tamer headcanons, or calling anything anyone interprets differently than you “stupid”, that’s not okay. God, I feel like an exhausted parent giving this lecture to fellow adults, but this really needs to be said and stressed.

I am an adult. I like when stuff in the fandom takes a dark turn. But for nostalgia’s sake, I also love the fanon so much, because that’s what I was exposed to.

And for fucks sake if it comes down to picking sides, I would rather stick with the part of this fandom that gives zero shits how you see a character as long as you’re having fun.

You can have your serial killer 30 year old Jeff and your canon-accurate-to-that-one-image eyeless Jack, but don’t shit on other people if they don’t want the same thing. Your interpretation isn’t canon, and neither is anyone else’s for that matter.

Realistic, dark, gritty Creepypasta isn’t a new concept, and neither is “adult” Creepypasta. And by the way, Creepypasta was never stated to be for adults. That’s like saying kids and only kids can eat trix cereal. It sounds that stupid on paper.

Let people interpret things the way they wanna interpret. No one is infringing on YOUR character ideas. Creepypasta has no age limit, nor a set way the horror has to be presented. Those who do continue to claim that just sound like pretentious assholes.

Very small side note, I personally think it’s inappropriate and rude to keep using Toby as a “bad example” of mental health rep when the creator has stated multiple times the character is old, not researched, and not even in the fandom anymore. Leave the poor guy alone.

[aheckinmess]

All's Well That Friends Well (Dad Nanami)

(Part 2 of Season of Serendipity.)

Read on AO3.

Tags: Dad Nanami, Child Yuji, Original Child Character(s), Ryomen Sukuna, Nanami Kento, Yuji Itadori, Besu Sukuna, Parental Nanami, Dad Sukuna, Soft Sukuna, Protective Sukuna, Canon Divergence - AU, Sukuna Has a Daughter, Yuji is Nanami's Son, I Merged Two of My Series, Because I Thought it Would Be Adorable, Yuji Itadori is a Ray of Sunshine, OC Has Trouble Making Friends, But Yuji Sure Doesn't, Going to Pre-K for the First Time

Word Count: 1,025 words

Summary: Yuji goes to Pre-K for the first time; Nanami worries he'll have trouble adjusting, but Yuji is a little ball of positive energy. Needless to say, he makes friends.

While Yuji was an extroverted child by nature, Nanami still thought he might need time to adjust to preschool. So when Yuji easily waved goodbye as Nanami dropped him off for his first day at Pre-K, it soothed some of the paternal worry.

“Otouchan, how long is school?” Yuji wrapped his arms around Nanami’s neck and squeezed. “Is it very long?”

“You’ll be here for a few hours, Yuji-kun. But I’ll be back. You’ll be having so much fun you won’t even miss me.” He promised, kissing the young boy’s forehead. “If you need anything, just ask the teacher for help, okay? Remember how we practiced and…?”

“Raise my hand!” Yuji smiled.

“That’s my boy.” Nanami ruffled his hair and stood up. “Have a good day, Yuji-kun. And have some fun.”

“Okay!”

. . . . .

Yuji Itadori made having fun his mission. From the moment he stepped foot into the classroom, he curiously trotted around the room asking question…after question…after question.

“What about that? Why do you have that?” He asked Ms. Chotto, pointing at the hundredth object his little eyes had landed on.

“Yuji, honey,” Ms. Chotto laughed. “You’re such a curious little thing, aren’t you? Those are my plants and I keep them on the top shelf so none of my students accidentally eat them. They can hurt your tummy.”

“Then why do you have them?”

“I’m keeping them here for a little bit until I can find a space for them at home.” She explained, turning away to separate two girls from fighting over a doll. “Go find someone else to play with, Yuji, okay? I have to help some of the other children right now.”

Yuji pouted but did as he was told. Pre-K proved to be one of the most fascinating places he’d ever been! He’d already spoken to just about everyone in the classroom, when the door opened to reveal another little girl.

What surprised Yuji wasn’t how tightly she clung to her father, but her hair. Pink! Just like his!

As soon as Ms. Chotto got the pink-haired girl detached from her father, Yuji stood patiently to the side. He watched her hide in Ms. Chotto’s legs until she peeked out at him.

“Hi! I’m Yuji!” He beamed.

Her wide, brown eyes looked up at Ms. Chotto and then back at him.

“I’m Besu.” She whispered. In fact, Yuji barely heard her.

“You sure are quiet.” He said bluntly. When she seemed embarrassed by that, Yuji pointed towards a pile of blocks on the rug up front. “You wanna go play blocks?”

Ms. Chotto muttered something into Besu’s ear. Besu whined back at her, but Ms. Chotto delicately coaxed her in Yuji’s direction. Yuji led the way over to the blocks and Besu sat by him silently.

“I like to build castles. What do you wanna build?” Yuji asked as he got to work. A triangular orange block looked perfect to fit on top of his green stack.

Besu shrugged her shoulders as she grabbed a few square pieces to fit together. Yuji gave her time to give it a specific shape, but when he still couldn’t tell what it was by the third row, he spoke up.

“What is that?”

Once again, Besu shrugged. Yuji huffed, feeling disappointed. He’d expected her to be just like him since she’d looked so similar. But she barely even talked! Sensing this, Besu cleared her throat.

“I just like putting them together. But now I’m making a watermelon.” She explained, picking off a few blue pieces and replacing them when red and green.

“My dad put watermelon in my lunchbox! Wanna see?” Yuji stood before she answered.

“I don’t think we’re sposed to do that.” She glanced at Ms. Chotto and then Yuji’s lunchbox. “You could get in trouble.”

“Nuh-uh. It’s my lunchbox!” Yuji said matter-of-factly.

But when he went to grab it, Ms. Chotto put a hand on his shoulder.

“Yuji-san, it’s not time for lunch yet.”

“Can’t I show Besu my lunch?” Yuji frowned.

“Why don’t you show her when it’s lunchtime? That way you can both show each other what you have.” Ms. Chotto offered.

“Okay!” Yuji agreed, before toddling over to Besu. “Hey, Besu! Let’s wait until lunch and then I can see what you packed, too!”

“Father made me stew.”

“Oh, boy! Will you share?”

“...well, okay.”

. . . . .

While Nanami waited outside the classroom as kids shuffled inside, a man with wild pink hair waited with him. He couldn’t help but stare. Just like Yuji’s, and that’s not common. I wonder if he’s of any relation.

“You waiting on your brat, too?” Sukuna quirked a brow and stuffed his hands in his pockets.

“I’m waiting for my son, yes.” Nanami answered. “It was his first day.”

“Mine too. You have any trouble dropping him off?”

“I thought I might, but he didn’t seem upset. He’s more outgoing, though, so I wasn’t too surprised.”

“I had to pry my daughter from me.” Sukuna scoffed, shaking his head with a smile.

“Ah, she must be a daddy’s girl, then. Does she have you wrapped around her finger yet?” Nanami normally wasn’t one for small talk, but the conversation helped him remain patient as he watched through the window while the teacher struggled to wrangle a boy into his bookbag.

“Absolutely not!” Sukuna huffed, but he turned his head away. “That is…I don’t give her everything she wants.”

Nanami couldn’t help but chuckle.

“Don’t worry. I’m the same with my son. He’s my first.”

“My daughter is my first, too.”

And then the floodgates unleashed. More parents began filing down the sidewalk towards the portable classroom, but Yuji and Besu were the first at the door. Both of them raced and planted themselves directly into their father’s arms.

“Otouchan! You won’t believe it! That girl looks like me!” Yuji turned to Besu to see her the most animated she’d been all day, jabbering on to her father with bright brown eyes. “She’s real quiet though…like Fushi-kun.”

“I see. Did you have fun, then?”

“Yeah! I made a best friend!”

And Nanami smiled when Yuji turned to Besu, waving goodbye as Sukuna carried her away.

Continue Reading -> Chapter 3

[calissarowan]

So, the new teaser video…

Let’s start off here. Can I just say that I’m in love with Flora’s outfit? Absolutely in love. I think it’s beautiful and suits her to a t. I actually really like Aisha’s too. I like that it isn’t too complicated, has a similar colour scheme to her original outfit, and that she’s allowed to dress more athletically. Tecna’s is lovely, though I’m not so sure about the colour, to be honest. Don’t know why. Maybe it’s how similar it is to the background. Musa’s a tomboy again! And she has her iconic bunches back! The outfit is actually really cool, I like it.

Oh, Stella…what are those pink things?! What are they? They have zip edges. Why? I like her hair, but bunches on Stella? I don’t know. She had them for Love and Pet, I guess. The top is cute, but the skirt is a disaster. Just…what was wrong with making it gold? I saw designs for that, they were pretty. A lesson I’ve learned from designing OC’s is that you don’t have to throw detail at something for the sake of it. Please don’t. Seriously, it’s hurting my eyeballs.

I actually love this hair. It’s gorgeous. The top, I could take or leave, but the hair is amazing. I love that her hair changes for her fairy form; they did that in the og, and I love it.

Flora is probably the prettiest in this redesign. She’s just so beautiful. And she has a version of her old bangs! Yay! Her jacket is gorgeous, gotta say. Also, from the sounds of things, she’s actually going to be Latina in this, which I really like. Gorgeous girl.

Continuing with Flora, we get clips of her transformation! And she looks nice! The choreography is really good, with very smooth animation, though this design is almost more detailed than Enchantix, which feels kinda off to me, honestly.

Hoping to God that this is Wizgiz, because it won’t be Alfea without him.

I actually love this design. It gives Oxford or Cambridge vibes, though I miss the old Alfea. I miss the pink. Baby pink isn’t Stella’s thing, it’s Alfea’s. At least in this design I can see how they have space for everything, which I did always wonder, honestly.

And we get a peek at Bloom’s transformation. I like Flora’s better, honestly. I’m glad we get Bloom in blue again, but…something about this doesn’t vibe with me. I think the shade is just the tiniest bit wrong. I do like it, though. But, again, feels too detailed for a base form. Maybe we aren’t getting higher forms, but I don’t want to be robbed of Enchantix.

Wo, some basic thoughts on what we saw in the new video. I like it. Not as much as the old version, and we’re still lacking any wizards, but I like it. I’ll be watching. What does everyone else think?

[darkbluekies]

A oneshot let's see if I do this right, can you do a oneshot of Hedwig meeting the reader? As in the start of it all I wanna see a little mini story of all that

I've got my eye on you

female!yandere OC x reader

Summary: A new students catches the eye of the popular, rich girl and she finds herself falling for you harder than she's ever done before. Hedwig comes up with a plan to lull you in and make sure you'll be hers only.

Warnings: none really, I think, maybe manipulation? Hedwig changes in front of reader (back towards them) but still-

Word count: 2.1k

Senior year. Only one more year until she’s free and gets out of here. She’ll go to Paris. Or Milan. Maybe travel around the world?

Hedwig steps into the classroom and greets her friends. Her father has forced her to go to a normal school to understand the normal people. They’re nice, but she feels like they’re not understanding her in the way her rich friends understand her. Hedwig can’t talk about her life in the same way without getting jealous looks. But she’s come to terms with it now. Her wealth isn’t only negative, she's gotten quite popular by it. If you don’t want her, you want to be her. 

Everything is normal … until she steps her foot into the art classroom for the first time this semester. Someone is sitting in the very spot she normally sits. Someone she’s never seen before. 

“Excuse me”, she says. 

The person — who happens to be you — looks up. 

“Yeah?” you ask quietly. 

“This is my desk”, she says. 

“Oh, I’m sorry … I didn’t know …”

You’re about to take your stuff and leave, but she stops you. 

“No, no, no”, she says. “It’s okay. You can stay. There are two chairs, aren’t there? I’ll sit beside you.”

“I’ll remember it for the next time.”

“Thank you.”

Hedwig's friend has to sit somewhere else. The friend gives you a nasty look before sitting down in the front of the class. 

You start working on your new projects. Hedwig glances over at your self portrait and finds herself smiling. 

“Pretty”, she says. 

“Oh, thank you”, you say quietly without looking at her.

“I don’t know what I should do. I can’t come up with something.” She drops her pencil down on the table. “My brain isn’t working.”

You look up from your portrait and meet her hazel eyes. 

“Why don’t you paint a scenery?” you ask. “That always works.”

Hedwig smiles. “What kind of scenery should I paint? 

You think. “Maybe … a winter landscape? You won’t have to use too many colors and details.”

“Thank you.” She blushes. “What’s your name, by the way? I haven’t seen you before.”

“Y/N, I’m new.”

“Really? No wonder I didn’t know who you were. I’m so sorry for not noticing you earlier.”

She can’t understand how she hasn’t. You’re gorgeous! How has she not noticed you until today? Now that she has, she can’t tear her eyes off of you.

“It’s okay”, you whisper, suddenly embarrassed. “I was actually trying my best not to be noticed.”

“Why?”

You shrug and look away. Hedwig can feel her entire body heat up. She looks down at your hand holding the pen and wants nothing more than to take it in hers. 

“You’re good at drawing”, she says when she realizes that she’s been staring at your hand for a few minutes. Playing it off as staring at your drawing. “It really looks like you.”

“Thank you.”

“Could you help me with mine?”

You nod and turn to her. Hedwig’s holding her pen and you take it out of her hands in a gentle manner that makes her heart flip. Your fingers brush against her hand and it sends electric shocks all throughout her body. She gulps and watches how you help her sketch out an outline of a few mountains before turning back to your own drawing. All nerves in her body are screaming at her to make you touch her again. She can’t understand why she’s suddenly feeling like this, but she knows that she needs more. 

“I-I’m Hedwig by the way”, she says quickly, desperate to pick up the conversation again. 

“I know”, you answer quietly. “Everyone talks about you.”

“Oh.” Hedwig’s suddenly terrified of what you’ve heard about her, maybe people’s gossip has made you dislike her already? She feels a weird longing for you to like her, to give her approval. “What are they saying?”

“They talk about you like you’re a celebrity. They’re talking about your parents and how they think your life is. I’m not really sure, I haven’t heard much.”

“Don’t listen. People are always talking.”

You nod and the situation grows silent again. Hedwig bites her lip. 

“Could you help me again?” she asks. “I don’t know how to do this.”

You give out a small sigh and turn to her again. Unlike last time, you place your hand over hers, guiding her hand and the pen. Hedwig can swear that her heart stops at the feeling of your soft hand against hers. She feels dizzy. 

WHen it’s lunch time, Hedwig asks if you want to eat with her. You nod shyly. You’ve never sat with the popular kids before and you don’t know any of these kids. Only Hedwig and you only met her an hour ago. To your surprise, she barely acknowledges her friends. Her full attention is on you, asking you where you’re from, what made you move here, how your family life looks like, what your interests are, what makes you scared and happy and what kind of person you are. Not a single time during lunch does she look away from your face. She has a sparkling hint in her eyes and a smile on her perfect face. 

The very next day, Hedwig looks up from her desk when you enter the classroom. She’s sitting alone today.

“Y/N, do you want to sit with me?” she asks and removes her bag from the chair beside her. “I saved a seat for you.”

Without answering, you sit down beside her. She’s quick to turn to you and ask you about your morning. 

“Y/N, would you like to come over to my house after school and study?” she asks. “We have a test coming up in two weeks and … I need a study buddy.”

You nod carefully. A bit of help on geometry wouldn’t hurt. And that’s how you come home to Hedwig’s gigantic villa for the first time. It looks more like a smaller mansion than a regular house. A white — almost yellow — Georgian house with lots of details. The entrance to the driveway is a pair of giant black gates to keep unwanted people from coming in. She has a chauffeur who drives her to and from school each day and he greets you nicely, adding honorifics. 

“My parents aren’t home”, Hedwig says over her shoulder as you enter the big hall.

A maid welcomes Hedwig home and offers to take your bag, but you shake your head, too intimidated by the sheer size of Hedwig’s house to be able to think clearly. 

You follow Hedwig upstairs, bag clutched in your hands. 

“This is scaring me a bit …”, you whisper. 

“What?” she asks in worry. 

“All of this … it’s a bit intimidating.”

Hedwig smiles reassuringly. “Don’t be scared. It’s not a museum, it’s a home.”

Hopefully it’s your home too, but Hedwig doesn’t say that.

“Are you hungry?” she asks and opens the door to her room. 

Even her room looks like money. 

“A bit” you admit.”

“Yeah, I noticed that you didn’t eat the school lunch”, Hedwig smiles and. “I don’t blame you. I’ll go tell the chef to prepare something for you, okay? He makes fantastic food.”

“You have a chef?”

“Yeah! You’ll love his food, I promise. He makes the best grilled cheese sandwiches you’ll ever have. I’ll go tell him to make some for you.”

Before you can stop her, she’s already darted out the door. You decide to pass the time by looking around her white room. You find pictures of her and alleged friends on cruises and yachts, her in pools and in the mountains plastered on the wall. This girl seems to have been everywhere. 

“I’m back!” Hedwig smiles and creeps up beside you. “What are you looking at?”

“Just your pictures”, you answer. “Are these your friends?”

“Yeah … they are. I don’t meet them as much because my father wants me to be in a public school with all the other children of our city. They go to a private school together. But I spend a lot of my vacations with them. We’ve been all around the world.”

“I can tell.”

“Do you like to travel?”

“Who doesn’t? I like to explore new places, but it costs a lot to go somewhere.”

“What’s your favorite place to visit?”

You shrug. “I haven’t been to so many places. What’s yours?”

“I really like Paris. It’s a beautiful city and they have such tasty food.” She turns around. “Should we study a little?”

You nod. You sit down at her desk and bring out your calculators.

A knock on the door interrupts you. It's the chef with the grilled cheese sandwiches. Hedwig thanks him and brings the plate over to you. Two perfectly grilled sandwiches are placed on the porcelain. Your mouth waters. 

“Bon appetit”, Hedwig smiles. “They’re all yours.”

“Thank you”, you say shyly but you don’t dare to touch them. Somehow you feel guilty.

“Y/N, are you okay?” 

“Yes … I just feel weird for making your chef make this for me.”

“It’s his job, don’t worry about it. Eat up now!”

This time, you dare to pick it up and take a bite. Heaven has granted access to your mouth.

“I told you it was good”, Hedwig smiles. 

You eat while you study and when you’re finally done, you notice how much time has passed. 

“It seems like you’ll have to stay here overnight …”, Hedwig says and the next sentence she says is nothing but a great lie. “The last bus has gone and my driver has finished for the day. Can your parents pick you up?”

You shake your head. They wouldn’t be pleased to drive you at this hour. It only makes Hedwig smile. Perfect. 

“You can stay here, my bed is big enough for two”, she says. “Just send a quick message to your parents and tell them that you’ll stay here.”

You sigh and do as she says. Your parents send you a heart back. They’re only happy that you’ve made a friend. 

You eat a delicious dinner in the kitchen made by her chef. It hits you that you haven’t seen her parents at all, but you don’t question it. From what you know about her, they’re busy.

When you’re going to bed, Hedwig walks over to her walk-in closet to grab herself a new pair of pajamas for both you and her. One of them being in your size. To your great surprise, she turns her back to you and removes her clothes. You gulp and try to look away in embarrassment. 

“S-Shouldn’t you go into the bathroom to change?” you stutter. 

“Why?” she asks and turns around. “It’s my room. Besides, if models can change in front of twenty people they don’t know … I can change in front of one person I hold dearly. But if you want to change in the bathroom, it’s down the hall. If you want to take a shower, there’s a white towel for you hanging on the hook.”

It sounds like she has planned this. Because she has. 

You do take a shower before you change into her pajamas and return to her room. She’s lying in her bed, scrolling on her phone. 

“We have to be up by seven tomorrow”, she says. “Otherwise we’ll be late to school.”

You nod and walk around the queen sized bed. This feels so wrong somehow. You’ve never shared a bed with someone before and especially not a beautiful girl who changed in front of you fifteen minutes ago. Hedwig turns off her phone and lies down with her front facing you. You try to mirror her motions and soon you're both lying down, facing one another.

“Goodnight, sleep well”, she smiles and turns off the light. 

Her fluffy sheets and soft mattress lull you into a deep slumber. Hedwig, however, can’t seem to be able to close her eyes. She’s staring at your features, wondering how she got so lucky to get you here. Her plan worked! She’s a genius! Soon, you’ll agree to be hers and these kinds of nights will be a recurring thing. Soon, she’ll dare to wrap her arms around you as you go to sleep. She’ll be able to kiss you and give you everything you want. 

Oh, Hedwig can’t wait until you’re fully hers. Then, no one will be able to take you from her, because what Hedwig wants, Hedwig gets … and so has it always been. The ones that cross her always get shoved aside one way or another. 

“You’re mine, my wonderful little Y/N”, she whispers and lets her fingertips brush over your cheek. “I’ll treat you so well, I promise. I’ll make sure you’re safe and happy. My beautiful Y/N.”