#hello I am back with my bullshit au

[livstarlight]

"You are literally the last man I could ever be persuaded to go out with."

"Why?"

"What do you mean why?"

"You seem so adamant. The least you could do would be telling me the reasoning behind it. I'm sure you have plenty."

"Did N'Jadaka put you up to this? Because I swear, after I'm done with you, I'll kill him... and then I'll kill you, for wasting my time."

"He has nothing to do with it. He would probably mock me endlessly and try to talk me out of it if he knew I was here."

"Maybe you should listen then."

"I tend not to listen to others' opinion but mine on what I should and shouldn’t do... do you?"

"You don’t know me."

"I think that's probably the point of asking someone out. I want to."

[gingerwerk]

happy saturday, heres a snippet of the new hbo war au bopping around my brain recently~

___________________________________________________________ 💛

Opening the door to the bar, Walt was unsurprised to find it almost empty; he and Andy always caught the early bird special so that they wouldn’t be out too late on a school night. It was incredibly easy then to spot his uncle sitting alone at their usual table in the center of the room. Walt gave a quick, polite wave to Luz, one of the main bartenders, before he crossed the room and sat across from his uncle. 

“Hey,” Walt said quietly, unsure of what else to say. 

“Hey,” Andy responded with a nod before he let out a sigh and folded his hands on top of the table in front of him; Walt settled into his seat and mentally prepared himself for whatever perfectly quaffed diatribe Andy had prepared for him during the school day. “I just wanted to say that I’m sorry for how I acted last night.”

Walt looked up, confused; that wasn’t at all what he was expecting. 

“What d’you mean?”

“Walt, you and I both know I said a lot of things last night- I was upset and frankly annoyed at being woken up at almost midnight by Sheriff Riggi,” Andy sighed, looking a little embarrassed. 

“I don’t think you said anything that was unwarranted,” Walt shrugged; he was a decent kid but he definitely wasn’t the most well-behaved and Andy was definitely kinder to him than most parents in Matilda. It was high time he got a good licking in. The only card he had left to play was the humble acceptance of guilt.“I broke curfew, I lied about where I was gonna be, I broke into someone’s house…”

“Still… one of us is the adult here so I should’ve acted better,” Andy countered firmly before Faye, their usual waitress for the night, appeared at their table asking for their drink orders. 

“Well, we both made mistakes yesterday so why don’t we just call it even?” Walt suggested after Faye departed from their table, earning a half smile from Andy. 

“Okay,” Andy said easily with a nod before his face fell into a more sterner expression and Walt prepared himself for his sentencing. “I know there isn’t a whole lot to do in this town but I thought I had made it very clear to you before that you shouldn’t be breaking into houses for fun that aren’t yours.”

Walt stayed silent and instead chose to pick at the napkin placed in front of him. The last time Sobel had caught him at the Speirs house as he attempted to hop the back fence, the punishment had been pretty steep- grounded for a month at home, cell phone put in the lock box under Andy’s bed and coaxial cables removed from his bedroom television on top of two weeks of community service around town. He remembered how Ray took a picture of him picking up trash in the park in his dumb orange vest and even went to the length of getting the photo printed and framed- that dick. 

“Breaking and entering is a serious offense,” Andy continued, bringing Walt back into the present. “You’re seventeen, Walt. Pretty soon these petty little crimes are gonna start showing up on a record and that’ll stick with you forever.”

“I wouldn’t have done it if I knew someone was living there,” Walt explained weakly. “I’m not a complete idiot.”

“Still dumb enough to get goaded into a misdemeanor by Ray Person,” Andy chided him right before Faye returned to the table with the drinks in hand and her customary smile.

“Are we feeling the usual tonight, boys are you thinking of branching out?” she asked as she drummed her nails, brightly painted an almost neon pink, against the worn wood of the bar table; both men had been too consumed by the events of the night before to even bother thinking of dinner so they simply chose their usual. Truth be told Walt didn’t have much of an appetite at all but knew if said as much to his uncle he’d just open a whole other can of worms and concern that he didn’t want to deal with. 

“Lucky for you, he isn’t pressing charges,” Andy continued once Faye had walked out of earshot, not that it mattered. With so little interest in the town, Walt was sure the whole town had already heard about him breaking into the old Speirs house and having the shit shared out of him when he found it to be occupied for the first time in almost twenty years. 

“Who?” Walt asked, unsure still almost twenty-four hours later of the name of the man who scared the shit out him. 

“Ronald Speirs,” Andy responded firmly. “The man who legally owns that house.”

“Oh,” Walt muttered as he took a sip of his rootbeer; the name was vaguely familiar in the annals of Matilda history, perhaps it was the son or grandson of the Spiers who owned the big empty house. 

 “Sheriff Riggi suggested a course of action and he approved,” Andy continued. “You’ll have to do community service. Again.”

“How long?” Walt asked as he rested his chin in his hand and pictured another two weeks picking up garbage in the park.

“Three months,”

“Three months?” Walt exclaimed, horrified; it was early May and that meant that he would lose almost his entire summer to picking up trash and whatever busywork the police department found him capable of doing.

It would hurt less, losing most of his summer to this bullshit, if this summer wasn’t already supposed to be so important to him. Come August and September, half of his friends would be leaving Matilda, for school or a career, and despite any promises, Walt severely doubted he’d actually see any of them again. People didn’t often escape Matilda but when they did it seemed they did it for good. 

“At least,” Andy said firmly. 

“Matilda’s gonna be fucking trash free by the time we’re done,” Walt grumbled, automatically assuming Ray probably got the same sentencing as him; at least he wouldn’t be suffering by himself. 

“Not quite,” Andy said as he took a sip of his beer; when Walt sent him a questioning look, he explained. “I might have worked out a deal with the Sheriff. You’ll still be doing community service but it won’t be the usual trash pick up.”

“Care to expand on that?” Walt asked, curious.

“Once the specifics are ironed out I’ll let you know,” he answered with a tense smile. “I know you and Ray were there last night but Speirs and Sobel told the sheriff that they saw two other people fleeing the scene. So, who else was there?”

“What? Rat on my friends and my sentence will get reduced? Did Sobel suggest that?” Walt asked scathingly. “No way in Hell, Andy, I’m not a snitch.”

It was a common tactic for Sobel, not necessarily the Matilda force as a whole, to throw other people under the bus for reduced sentences. It was perhaps that reason why Sobel was the most despised person on the force, even though Larkin and Evans, on paper, were just as nasty pieces of work to avoid. Even though Sheriff Riggi was the top dog in town, depending on the crime, it was almost better to get caught by her, either because it meant avoiding the embarrassment of getting caught by one of her rat deputies or because she actually still held a modicum of empathy in her body. 

“Sobel might’ve thrown the idea out but I knew you wouldn’t say anything,” Andy said with a small quirk of the lips, a shadow of a fond smile. Walt couldn’t help but return the look; he knew his uncle also thought Sobel was trash but would never outwardly admit to it. “But I asked around and I know Brad wouldn’t be caught dead doing something dumb like that and Leckie said that both Evan and Lilley were working late on some project of theirs at the print. So, shot in the dark, I’d assume it was Stafford and Christeson with you last night.”

Walt frowned but said nothing; it didn’t matter though because his silence was answer enough. 

“Am I cold or have I hit the mark?” Andy asked with a raised eyebrow before he took a sip of his beer. 

“You can’t keep shit a secret in this town,” Walt grumbled as he deflated and took a sip of his rootbeer. “So are you gonna tell Sobel what you know?”

“No,” Andy responded easily, “But you friends should count their lucky stars that Sobel’s shit at actual police work or else their asses would be in trouble too.”

[tojiscumdumpster]

⠀⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀⠀ ⠀ ▶︎ •၊၊||၊|။||||။ knockout x renji abarai

✧ summary there’s no better way for renji to celebrate a big win than to spend the night with y/n.

✧ content warnings reader described as a black woman who uses she/pronouns. feisty!reader, chubby!reader x undergroundfighter!renji. modern au — no bleach verse. told in first POV — renji’s. mentions of stitches and bruises. usage of profanity, praise kink, cowgirl position, nipple play, facefucking — renji will finish in reader’s, squirting. terms of endearment — baby, sweetheart, angel, etc. reader and renji are in their late twenties.

✧ author’s note hello, hello. i am here with a fic that’s not jjk for once in my life, lmfao. this idea has been in my drafts since january 2023, and it was just sitting there collecting dusts on my old tumblr. but i said i was going to do more bleach characters, so here we go. first time writing renji, so if this ain’t how you see him, oops. still enjoy. also didn't really focus on the underground!fighter portion as much. but maybe i will if there's a next time. support me by liking, commenting, and reblogging this post. i would greatly appreciate it. AGELESS/BLANK BLOGS AND MINORS— DO NOT INTERACT.

I know she told me not to come by after the fight, but I needed to. 

 I won.

 I fucking won, and there’s no other way for me to celebrate winning ten thousand dollars than to be with Y/N.

 Well, that’s if she’s still not mad at me.

 Before I left for my match, we got into an argument. A huge one. She doesn’t like that I fight for a living, let alone illegal underground fighting. I mean—I get it. Seeing someone you care about constantly getting his ass beat isn’t a sight worth seeing. 

 But fighting is all I know. 

 I had a shitty childhood. Didn’t know who the hell my parents were since they gave me up at birth for adoption. Jump around in foster care homes until the mothers got sick of me and kicked me out in the streets. Survival was basically forced on me.

 Fighting is what kept me alive. For food. Clothes. A place to lay my head. Whether I lost or won, I know the reason why I’m alive today is because I’m a fighter. 

 It wasn’t until I was eighteen when I found out about the world of underground fighting. Ten years deep and I know nothing else. 

 Y/N knows this about me. She understands I didn’t have it easy and never judged me. But that doesn’t mean she agrees with my lifestyle. 

 She came to a few fights in the beginning. Eventually, she got tired of seeing me stitched up almost every weekend. 

 Shit, me too. 

 However, after tonight, I feel good about my future wins. I busted my ass in training, so now I don’t have to hear shit about anymore losses. 

 Even if right now I’m stitched up and have a black eye. I feel good.

 Great.

 Better if Y/N opens the door after keeping me waiting out in the cold for the past ten minutes. 

 I know she’s awake. She has a habit of staying up late, studying for med school. And plus, I haven’t messaged or called her yet. Despite her not showing up to my fights, she still wants an update afterwards that I made it out alive.

 “Y/N, let me in,” I say, knocking loudly on her apartment door. “You know I don’t care about making a scene.”

 After a few more obnoxious knocks, the door finally swings open and I am met with deep russet skin, tight curls, and chocolate-colored eyes that pierce an annoyed look in my direction.

 “What do you want?” She bites out. “I’m busy.”

 I smirk and hold the bag of money in the air. “I won.”

 “Congrats.” Her tone is flat and she tries to slam the door in my face, but I placed my foot to stop it from closing. “Seriously?”

 “Yes, seriously. Are you really still mad at me?” I teasingly ask. 

 “You won. I said congrats. What more do you want?”

 I shrugged. “I’m locked out of my apartment.”

 She arches a brow at me, already recognizing my bullshit ass excuse of being locked out of my apartment. 

 Y/N knows me. She knows I would do anything to be in her presence, so going back and forth in forty degree weather is pointless. 

 Her pretty brown hues travels across my face and body, examining the stitches and bruises that probably has her wondering, who the fuck treated him? 

 Me. But that’s besides the point.

 A deep sign escapes her mouth when she realizes I’m not going anywhere until she lets me in, so she opens her door wider and turns her back to me to walk further inside her apartment. 

 “Sit,” she orders, which I happily do so while chuckling to myself. 

 While Y/N goes to the bathroom (assuming she’s getting a med kit to fix my shitty patch job), I take advantage of staring at her round ass that’s barely covered in those tiny boy shorts. Every step she takes it jiggles, creating an ocean of waves I’m eager to swim in.

 I get comfortable while I wait, taking off my skully, sweater, and any other form of heavy clothing that would cause me to sweat in her heated apartment. 

 “I’m going to start charging you if you keep fucking coming to my apartment like this, Renji,” Y/N snapped, walking with the kit in her hand as expected. 

 “Outside of paying for your tuition, I can think of other ways to repay you.”

 She rolls her eyes at my suggestive comment. “Get over yourself, Abarai.”

 I let out a snort before she stands in front of me and tilt up my chin to start making work on my face. 

 She’s cute when she’s mad. Huffing and puffing while whispering slick comments under breath. But how she’s handling my face by moving it around with force rushes blood straight to my groin.

 I’m getting hard.

 Hard as shit, and it’s not helping that I’m in close proximity with her. 

 That jasmine lavender scent that circulates through my senses. Looking up at her full lips that’s coated with gloss. Then, lowering my gaze to her tits that’s big, naturally saggy, and pretty. My mouth is watering at the sight of her nipples hardening.

 And I don’t know if it’s because she feels that I’m checking her out or the coldness outside is affecting her. 

 Either way, I’ll act on it.

 Taking it upon myself, I grab the back of her thighs to pull her on my lap. As if she’s used to my antics, it doesn’t catch her off guard and she continues to clean up my wounds. 

 “You’re all bloody up with a black eye and somehow you still have the energy to be a pervert,” she retorts.

 I move one of hands to her ass, massaging comforting circles. “For you? Yeah.”

 The quiet between us was comfortable until she opted to speak again. “So… who’d you fight?”

 “Some huge motherfucker. I thought I was going to die.”

 She leans back to grab more alcohol and dabs it above my brow. “Maybe that’s what needed to have you stop fucking fighting.”

 I throw my head back to laugh, but she grabs my chin to bring my face forward. “Like you want me dead.” My hands creep beneath her cheeks to pull her closer to me and apply more pressure to my cock. “That’s what you want?”

 “That came out my mouth, Abarai?”

 “Why are you still mad at me?” 

 She scoffs. “Why am I mad that you’re practically coming to me everyday with a busted face and broken ribs?” That’s one thing I love about Y/N—her feisty personality. It turns me on so fucking much because I know when I fuck her, it’ll be a different story. 

 Continuing, she says, “I think I would be a little more satisfied if you did this professionally as opposed to underground. Underground doesn’t come with insurance, Ren.”

 “Aw, you care about me that much?” My question was supposed to be posed as a joke, but the look on her pretty face says otherwise. 

 “Fucking asshole. I don’t know why I still deal with your ass.”

 “Probably because you love me.”

 “Probably not.”

  Gripping her hips, I pull her with me and lean back into the headrest of the couch. We’re inches away from our mouths cooling and I take advantage of this proximity by basking in her sweet smelling breath and beauty. 

 Simply because Y/N exists, my cocks hardens for her. Holding her in my arms. Feeling her pussy against my erection and breasts suffocating pressed on my chest. Girlfriend or not, she’s mine.  

 And she knows it. 

 I can see how she looks at me, even when mad, that she cares and loves me. Y/N is a tough girl. I can only imagine what she’s been through. Still, she manages to soften up just for me. 

 We never made it official since she doesn’t approve of the underground shit, but that doesn’t mean I’ll ever stop asking. 

 “So when are you going to say yes to being my girlfriend?” I whisper.

 She tries breaking from my embrace, but I tighten my grip. “Renji…”

 “You feel my dick pressed against you, right? It only makes it harder when you say my name like that, Y/N.”

 “Be real with me… will you keep doing this shit forever?” Her eyes waver as she awaits my answer and I can’t help the guilt from pinging my chest. 

 “If it lessens my chance of being with you, no.”

 She searches my face for hesitance or deceit, however, she finds nothing because I meant what I said. Y/N is the only person that looks at me like I’m a human, and I wouldn’t let my obsession with fighting get in the way of our future together. 

 How she tucks her coil behind her ear and nips down on her lower lip shows me the bit of vulnerability she reserves for me.

 So—I take advantage of it. 

 In less than three seconds my lips were on hers. I take my time relishing those sweet, plump and plush, strawberry flavored lips.

 I can feel the skepticism from Y/N while kissing her, maybe because she’s trying to put on this show that she’s still mad at me. But soon, her rigid body melts into mine and returns the kiss. 

 Our heavy breaths mingle, increasing in speed the more aggressive we lock lips. She begins rolling her hips onto my cock and I let out a grunt, feeling the moisture of her pussy liquefying on me. 

 The slaps I leave on her ass are harsh, causing her to bite my bottom lip and suck it into her mouth. Y/N is so fucking aggressive it drives me nuts. She gives me a high and adrenaline not even a fight could give. 

 “Pull your dick out, Ren,” she orders through muffled moans and our kiss. 

 “Fucking bossing me around to give you cock? Not mad at me anymore?” Y/N ignores my taunt and works her hands between us to untie my sweats. I hiss at the feel of her cool hands engulfing my dick to give it a few pumps.

 She must not know what her touch does to me. She handles my cock like she owns it, and gosh, I fucking love that shit. My fingers gently tangle into her coils to deepen our kiss, but she soon gets up to strip her clothes.

 Fuck… Fuck, she’s so goddamn sexy. I’ll never get tired of her thick body, filled with soft dips and curves. I look at her, observe her like she’s an expensive piece of art hung up at a museum because that’s what I see her as. 

 Pretty pussy leaking arousal and I smirk to myself, thinking how she had all that attitude earlier while being wet for me like she didn’t want me inside of her.

 “You’re fucking beautiful. You know that?” I ask, massaging her tits and looking up at her. “You still have that attitude or are you going to come ride my cock like a good girl?”

 She gently pushes me back against the couch with her lips on mine and straddles my lap. “Depends on if you’re going to be a good boy and take this pussy.”

 “Shit, angel. I will.”

 Y/N hums while reaching around to align my cock with her sex. Two seconds later, she slowly sinks down my length until I’m buried into the hilt. That soft lingering fuck that slips past her pretty lips sounds sexy as hell and has my dick twitching in response.

 I can’t bust now. Not yet. Even if the tightness and heat of her pussy pushes me off the edge of a mountain. Her pussy is so warm, so fucking warm, fat, and wet. Gosh, I don’t ever think I can be without this pussy. 

 I throw my head back and savor this feeling, but Y/N had other plans for me. 

 “Remember to look at me when I’m riding you, Ren,” she coos. “Eyes on me, baby. I want you to see how much I love this dick inside my pussy.”

 Fucking Christ. “Tell me how much you love it while bouncing on me.”

 And she does just that. Telling me how big and girthy I am, that she’s sorry for giving me attitude and admits that she just wanted dick. But no. I want her to fuck me like she’s mad. I need that type of energy pumping through my veins after this win tonight. 

 I reassure Y/N and tell her to fuck me harder. Her pace quickens and slaps her ass fervently against my cock. I can’t stop moaning her name. The wet slippery noises coming from her pussy increases in volume and it creates a mess between us. 

 This is where I belong, deep in her pussy and feeling her walls squeeze the hell out of me. I don’t even hold her hips or waist. I relax comfortably with my arms sprawl over the top of her couch, watching how gorgeous she looks while fucking what’s hers. 

 “Oh, fuck, Renji,” she moans, tugging her lips inwards and lolling her head to the side in complete pleasure.

 Those perfect, full tits bounces in my face and I can’t help but stare and become mesmerized. Light marks that resemble tiger stripes decorated the valley of breasts. Her nipples, pebbled and straining underneath my gaze, look desperate for my touch.

 I take it upon myself to pinch them between my fingers and a soft shriek escapes her mouth, further arching her back. 

 Y/N keeps getting wetter by the second, every bounce she makes. And hearing her sticky arousal, I know and see how she’s creaming my cock.  Purposely, I sit myself on the couch, thrusting up in her a bit to feel my head hit her g spot.

 “Ren, help me little,” she begs through a whimper. “Fuck me back.”

 I caress her cheeks with the back of my head. “Yeah? You want me to help you, sweetheart?”

 “Please.”

 God, I love it when she’s needy for me like this. 

 In no time, my hands are at her waist and my thrusts meet with her jumping movements. Y/N isn't loud when it comes to her sounds of pleasure. Vocal, yes. But right now, her moans and whimpers are louder than usual. 

 It’s like she needed my dick inside of pussy just as much as I needed it. 

 I see the desire in her brown hues. I feel the heat radiating off Y/N’s skin while my fingers dig into her flesh, holding her in place to pound upwards into her pussy. 

 This is what I wanted—to fuck my girl after a well deserved win. And she’s going to congratulate me how I want. 

 My lips are at her neck leaving wet kisses and sucking her flesh until purple specks form. “Coming home to this good fucking pussy. Gosh, I love how you feel, angel. Going to fucking mean it now when you say congrats?”

 “Congratulations, baby,” she purrs, slamming harder on my cock. “You did good… so damn good, Ren.”

 I hum, dragging my tongue along her neck. “That’s what I wanted to hear.”

 Y/N continues to gasps out her pleas for me to fuck harder. I comply… I comply in helping my pretty girl come and savor the look when she washes over me. My grips are firm on her waist, betting that’ll leave marks when she wakes up the next poor, and drive my cock deeper into her pussy.

 I’m in pure awe. I feel my own releasing catching up to me the more I watch her take me. This is my woman. My fucking girl. I come home to this every night after every fight to hold her in my arms and fuck her. 

 Her name from my mouth sounds like a broken record when I moan her name. This fat, gushy, slick and tight pussy has this power over me. She won’t stop fucking squeezing me, I can’t prevent my face from growing hot. It’s intense how I feel right now, and it’s all because of Y/N.

 “Good, good fucking pussy. God, you’re so fucking good to me, angel face,” I rasp, pecking her lips. “You’re going to come for me?”

 “Yes, Renji, baby. I’m going to come. Keep giving me that dick. Please don’t stop, please.”

 “Put your fingers in my mouth.” She does quick with my command. I suck on her digits and coat them well with saliva before pushing them out of my mouth. “Now rub your clit, pretty girl. I wanna see you squirt everywhere.”

 Because she’s overwhelmed with arousal, Y/N stops bouncing on my cock and allows me to fuck her while she plays with clit. Her mouth hangs gape, drool slightly coating the side of her mouth and breathing heavily. 

 My balls slap her ass. My head kisses her soft cushion repeatedly. Her velvet walls transfer warmth to my cock and the bubble that rests in the pit of my stomach is on the verge of explosion.

 I’m about to come. Hard.

 But I need her to come first.

 “Fucking come for me, Y/N. Keep playing with that pretty pussy and moan my name,” I grit out, pushing past all my thrusts. 

 “Right there, Renji. Keep fucking me right there… I’m–oh, fuck–I’m coming.”

 She’s so pretty when she comes. Dark brown porcelain complexion, slick with sweat. Eyes rolling to the back of her head. Pussy clenching and unclenching around my cock. Moaning, whimpering my name back to back. 

She’s breathless. Flawless. I have this image of her painted perfectly in my mind. Watching Y/N come, makes me come, so I make quick work to pull her off my lap. And she knows exactly what I want–to fuck my release down her throat.

 Her mouth is as warm as her pussy, and I let out hitched breaths and harsh grunts when she swallows me whole. I’m relentless when forcing her head down on my cock as I facefuck her. The gurgling noises she makes are obscene. Pornogrpahic, even. 

 And what caused my come to shoot through her mouth is seeing that she’s still massaging her clit, eventually squirting all over her wooden floors. 

 My hips stutter and I throw my head back to moan into the air. “Fuck, Y/N! That’s my fucking girl. Look at you making a mess while choking on my cock and swallowing my come.”

 Y/N takes it upon herself to wrap her lips tighter around my cock and massage my balls, ensuring every single last of my nut has released in her mouth. I take it for a while, but I soon become sensitive, practically feeling my skin being sucked off.

 “Easy now, angel,” I say through an airy chuckle. I pull my cock out and her mouth echoes a pop sound. 

 She whines a little because I’m no longer in her mouth and it causes me to smirk because it wasn’t too long ago where she acted like she hated me. 

 My hand grasps her chin and guides it upwards to meet with my eyes. “You swallowed for me, Y/N? Open up.” She nods, sticking her tongue out. “Perfect.”

 “You’re going to fuck me again?” She asks, catching her bottom lip between her teeth.”

 Gosh, this woman will be the death of me.

tags: @dejwrld @hvshinas @diamondoidxx @xxjazzxx @thegirlwonder1 @ryukenzz @maiapuhpaia @elitesanjisimp @amyrahrose @sweetpeachies @abigolemess @linastired @diorsbrando @starrygetou @niya729 (if i didn't tag you it's because tumblr wouldn't have your user pop up)

[h4m1lt0ns]

HEARTBREAK SYNDROME.

episode eleven :: “REDBULL FANS”

꒰꒰◌‧₊ ⬪˙⋆ pairing ︴various drivers x y/n

꒰꒰◌‧₊ ⬪˙⋆ genre ︴social media au / irl snippets

꒰꒰◌‧₊ ⬪˙⋆ summary ﹔musical releases resume and so does the drama.

꒰꒰◌‧₊ ⬪˙⋆ face claim ﹔ wonyoung jang (28)

꒰꒰◌‧₊ ⬪˙⋆ warnings ﹕ excessive cussing, none.

ylnestate

♡ liked by lewishamilton, carlossainz55 and 18,450,948 more.

ylnestate U&U no. 44 will be released tonight at midnight. ‘Grandstand Girl’ is the 44th mini album by ﹫y/n and features artists like ﹫theweeknd, ﹫justinbieber, and ﹫champagnepapi. All songs (apart from Trust Issues) were produced and written by Y/n in the past couple months as she’s currently working on her biggest record yet, so stay tuned for that 😉⭐️!

tagged: theweeknd, champagnepapi, justinbieber.

1,492,592 comments.

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→ username u&u stands for undecided and unreleased, y/n usually drops u&u eps right before an album when she has songs that don’t fit the genre/make sense with the rest of the album. they usually consist of 2-6 songs and this one is ep number 44! hope this helped 💗

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jensonbutton i already knew abt this yet i’m still surprised

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lilymhe how dare you

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landonorris NEEDED A FIX OF YOU 🗣

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username YES?????

y/n

♡ liked by lewishamilton, oscarpiastri and 11,393,159 more.

y/n SEBASTIAN VETTEL PLEASE COME BACK 💔 adopted another papaya fucker and a williams kid ft. fernando rizzlonso and sir lew 🩷

993,593 comments.

y/l/nestate more kids?

username LEWIS 👊🏽 IS SO 👊🏽 HANDSOME 🗣

→ mercedesamgf1 real

username all this content today i feel like a ten year old at a sephora 😍😍😍

username THE ROSCOE STICKER.

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username lewis graduated from a bank cause that face card can’t decline.

username how does he *just* look like that ????!,!,’ 😭

username FERNANDO RIZZLONSO.

fernandoalo_oficial in slayzuka

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username YESSSS OSCAR AND LOGAN 🔥🔥🔥🔥

username aRE WE GONNA IGNORE HE COVERING MAX’S FACE WITH A ROSCOE STICKER???

username WHAT THE FUCK IS A KILOMETRE 🦅🦅🇺🇸🇺🇸🇺🇸

landonorris new brothers unlocked

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yukitsunoda0511 why does lewis get the good photos

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→ charles_leclerc I’m-

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→ username pls don’t flirt with my gf

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username casually posts after ep announcement, no one like you, y/n y/l/n.

mercedesamgf1 pls bring lewis and george back, we need you three in the office rn 🩷🎀🩷🎀🩷🎀

→ y/n on our way rn 🏃‍♀️

carlossainz55 you adopted oscar???

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→ username … is the beef squashed now??

→ username i mean.. i hope

[pileofmush]

you don't know what i deserve .·:*¨ ¨*:·..·:*¨ ¨*:·..·:*¨ ¨*:·.

ft. okkotsu yuuta

it’s 1 a.m. on the fifteenth of February and there’s a corpse on your kitchen floor. still fresh: odorless and warm to the touch. you're on your own—just you and the dead body.

info : ̗̀➛ tags: gn!reader, neighbor au, strangers to lovers, yuuta & reader are a little strange, happy ending // cw: death, light angst, vulgar language, canon-typical violence...but pretty mild imo

thoughts : ̗̀➛ helllooo. back on my bullshit. let's call this a very belated birthday present to my beloved <3 // read this on ao3

wc : ̗̀➛ 5.1k

The human body contains a shit ton of blood. 

Which is not something you think about often, but now you are forced to confront this fact in real-time. People… have a lot of blood.

And it stains. No matter how many times you wash your hands. There are still flakes of blood wedged underneath your fingernails. Part of you thinks it'll never go away.

...And then there's Sailor Moon.

“I am the pretty guardian who fights for love and justice! I am Sailor Moon! And now, in the name of the moon, I’ll punish you!”  

Cue trumpets and flashy poses; the makings of a battle. Your comfort anime blares in the background of a morbid scene, the flickering TV casting a soft glow on a sight that will inevitably haunt your nightmares. 

Because it's 1 a.m. on the fifteenth of February and there’s a corpse on your kitchen floor. Still fresh: odorless and warm to the touch. You pace in your tiny living room, unsure of what to do, of how to proceed. The pretty Sailor Guardians won’t save you now. You’re on your own. Just you and the dead body.

How romantic.

The chill from outside has swept into your apartment thanks to that annoying fucking prick who left your window open. Honestly, people these days have no decency. The least he could’ve done was close your shutters after tumbling through your bedroom window like a deranged acrobat. Now you’re, like, moderately cold. 

“What a fucking mess,” you sigh.

Blood seeps into the earthy Persian rug that you got for half-price at a flea market a few months ago. It’s dark; puddling, like... like a knocked-over glass of chocolate milk, spilled all over the kitchen table. Or, maybe chocolate syrup would be more apt. It doesn’t matter, though. You can always get a new rug. You know, if you make it out of this situation of yours intact and not in a dingy prison cell for homicide.

Hmm. You might be sorta kinda screwed. 

The police, of course, are out of the question. No matter your side of the story, it wouldn’t hold up in trial. No, no, no. A foreigner murdering a Japanese citizen? Even if it was in self-defense, it wouldn’t matter. Forget prison—you’ll probably be hanged.

So, you could run… But you probably wouldn’t get far. Or, you could do what every naive murderer in the movie about karmic retribution does and try your darnedest to get away with it.

“Option two it is!” you quit pacing and announce to the room. Thankfully, the body doesn’t respond.

A weak knock at the door sounds off—a gunshot. Your heart stalls, your head snapping to the entrance of the apartment. Who the hell is at your door? The person at the door knocks a second time, a little bit more insistently, and you start to sweat. “Hello, is everything alright? I—I heard a scream.”

You step up to the peephole and squint. A mild-looking man shuffles his feet outside your door. It’s your next-door neighbor, bathed in the ugly yellow lighting of your apartment complex. He smiles like he knows that you can see him. 

This… isn’t ideal. You could choose to not answer him, but that probably wouldn’t work. What if he called the police? You take a breath. “Everything’s fine,” you call out.

The man’s smile freezes in place, somehow more eerie than a frown; his hands burrow deeper into his pockets. “Oh!” he says. “Are… Are you sure?”

You turn away from the peephole, a little unnerved. “Yeah, why?”

“I’m sorry, I don’t mean to intrude, but I heard a lot more than a single scream.”

A slow, dreadful feeling starts to seep into your gut. “Pardon?” 

There’s a pause. You swallow.

“These walls are thin.” 

Fuck. He knows. Oh God, he knows. 

No—that’s impossible. You were the only one to scream. Yasuhiro… He didn’t get the chance to. So this is just a concerned neighbor checking in on you. Nothing more, nothing less. You can prove it, prove that you’re okay.

You open the door a smidge so that you can peek through, then step outside and shut the door behind you. Your neighbor, what’s his name again? Okkotsu, right? Okkotsu’s brows lift at the sight of you, then relax. He’s wearing a plain white tee and a pair of grey sweats that should probably be criminal in Japan. His eyes flicker up and down your frame. You suppress a shiver.

“Just a horror movie,” you broach, offering him a polite smile. “I’m an easy fright.”

Okkotsu pulls a hand out of his pocket to awkwardly rub the back of his neck. His gentle smile has dimmed. “I’m not sure I believe you,” he says in an apologetic tone.

You both notice the tremor that runs through your body. Nosy fucking neighbors and their lack of sense when it comes to minding their own business. You stare mulishly at the floor. His shoes are simple. Black; scuffed. His left foot taps once against the floor. Whatever. You don't have to answer to him. Gathering up your resolve, you start to speak. “Listen, Okkotsu-san,” you say but are cut off quickly.

“Is that blood?” 

That makes you freeze, eyes glued to the floor. A cold set of fingers dips under your chin and gently lifts it. Your gaze meets his: two pools of an endless, starless night. It flickers to a spot beside your ear knowingly and you reach for it. 

He’s right. Blood sticks to your fingers, not yet dry. Lurking in the crevice behind your ear. You missed a spot.

“Well spotted.” It’s fruitless to lie now. You know it, he knows it. Now it’s a matter of who’ll crack first. 

“Are you… Are you injured?”

Physically? No. Psychiatrically? Well, you just murdered a man, so.

“I’m unharmed.” 

Okkotsu blinks owlishly. “Is that so?” He murmurs curiously, tilting your head to the side to observe the blood staining your skin. 

You readjust your head and mimic him, blinking slowly. “Okkotsu—”

“Yuuta,” he interrupts. 

You blink again. For such a mild, polite-seeming boy, he really is quite rude. And confusing. And terrifying. And you kinda sort of want him to die. “Okkotsu-san” you repeat. “I think it’s best if you leave.”

Okkotsu Yuuta’s smile returns, and it’s dangerously innocuous. He breathes your name out like a question. Starless eyes wander to your front door, then go back to studying your own. “Can I come inside?” he asks, quietly. 

Everything stills, even your heart. You’re not quite certain you’re alive, when you ask, dubiously, “The apartment?” 

Okkotsu just smiles.

You let Okkotsu come inside.

Which is absolutely fucking insane, but you have a feeling that your neighbor’s worse off than you are, and that’s truly saying something. 

You hear him lock the door behind you before you start. Silently, you lead him past your living room, past Tsukino Usagi flying down the sidewalk on the way to school—the start of another episode, then—past your browning house plant hanging from the ceiling, into your quaint kitchen. 

It’s nothing special. A small green stove with two bunsen burners on top. A sink; limited counter space. A couple of peeling cabinets. Tied in together with a white backsplash, shifting colors with each flicker of the TV. To the side, a small table sits, with two mismatched chairs tucked into it. 

Oh, and there’s the dead body, too. Practically dribbling blood, painting your discounted rug muddy red and the surrounding blue tile purple. 

Okkotsu lets out a soft sigh. “What a mess.”

You consider him from the corner of your eye. “That’s what I said,” you frown.

He shrugs, still looking at poor, dead, Yasuhiro. “Well, it’s true, isn’t it?” 

Yeaaaah. It’s true.  

A giggle escapes you, the reality of the situation finally hitting you. “Fuck,” you whisper in between the giggles. “I’m fucked.” It’s true. Utterly and thoroughly—no condom used. 

“Not yet,” you barely hear him say over the fracturing of your composure. This is impossible. You killed a man tonight, then showed a stranger the corpse. You’re an idiot. You’re a freak. You can’t hide a dead body. You really might as well bend over and get it over with. Fuck.

Hands gripping your knees, you struggle to catch your breath. When did you lose it? Ah, who cares? Dead. You’re dead. The noose is looped around your hollowed throat, tightening by the second. Perhaps there’ll be two corpses on your kitchen floor by the time the sun is up. Perhaps you should’ve just let him kill—

“Breathe with me,” Okkotsu mutters, right in front of you, long hands gingerly clutching your shoulders. Which is strange. You had no idea he got so close. His thumbs swipe up and down, around and around, and you are flummoxed. But Okkotsu is patient, his chest compressing and expanding with each measured breath, and you are compelled to follow him. Slowly, you come down from your panicked high. You let out a shaky breath, eyes sliding back to the imposing guest in your apartment. The other imposing guest in your apartment.

The body in front of you lays eerily still, impervious to your mini breakdown. It’s not purple, or rotting, or excreting out the last remaining fluids left in its underwhelming husk. It’s just—laying there. Laying, not lying, because it is no longer a breathing thing that rests; now an object to be placed. Dehumanized, in every way. Then again, what is dehumanization if not just another word for murder? What is murder, if not just the taking away of a person’s autonomy? Dead bodies can’t rest. It will never lie again. 

The dead body lays.

And you wonder for how much longer you’ll keep your own autonomy.

When do the dead start to attract flies? Realistically, you know it can range from a day to a few days for a decomposing body to become…obscene, depending on the environmental conditions. It hasn’t even been a few hours. You doubt flies will start buzzing around any time soon. If you move to crouch down and touch it, it’ll probably still be warm.  

The swipe of a thumb over your shoulder brings your awareness back to your neighbor. 

“Why are you helping me?” You ask, wiping the tears that have beaded up in the corners of your eyes. Your breathing is steadier now, but you’re still trembling. That damn window is still open. 

The hands on your shoulders release, and you look up to gauge his thoughts. He’s frowning. His eyes cloud, then sharpen: lightning against a black sky. “You need to get rid of the body, don’t you?” It’s a rhetorical question, but you nod anyway. 

“Then we’ll figure it out. Don’t worry. I bet we’ll be done before dawn.”

He makes to walk away but you stay rooted to your spot, trying to figure out why this strange, strange neighbor of yours who makes friends with stray cats and tends to the apartment garden is willing to become an accomplice of murder for you. 

“Okkotsu, are… Are you in love with me or something?” 

Your neighbor stops, then snorts, and it sends a shiver down your spine. He turns back to face you. A soft pout lies on his lips as he skillfully evades your question with a request of his own. “Hey, if you’re gonna ask me something like that, why don’t you use my name next time?”  

You don’t ask again.

You have far bigger problems than interrogating Okkotsu Yuuta, so you push it aside and stalk toward the body. Okkotsu joins you, and the two of you peer at the deceased man before you. It’s… Still. The blood has stopped its puddling; a thin line stretches the column of its throat. His throat was slit neatly, gracefully, like an act of love. It wasn’t one, but, maybe you gave Yasuhiro what he wanted, in a terrible, twisted way. How magnanimous of you. 

Yasuhiro wasn’t an attractive man. Limp brown hair framing a slightly uglier-than-average face. At least he had the decency to close his eyes before his last, dying breath. They were blood-shot and wiry, the last time you saw them open. Bouncing haphazardly in its sockets like they couldn’t discern which corner of the room you stood in.  

Okkotsu perks up at the sound of your harrumph. “What?” he questions you, and you slide your eyes over to him. Okkotsu Yuuta is distinctly pale, a trait that you’ve always noticed and have always sort of admired on him. It suits the subdued, yet haunted look he’s got going on. Black lashes feather the whites of his eyes, as well as the endless void of his irises. Yeah, he’s almost doll-like, in that gentle, haunting way of his. 

“You’re creepier than the corpse,” you tell him instead and turn away, just barely hiding your smile. The laugh that rings out from him sounds like nails grating on a chalkboard. 

Just kidding. It actually sounds kind of sweet.

Okkotsu follows you to the bathroom, where you’ve grabbed pretty much all of your cleaning supplies. You stuff them in a bucket and he hauls it out of your arms, the two of you shuffling back to the kitchen. 

“So how should we go about this?” You muse, staring at the body. The movies you’ve seen are the only reference you have for the disposal of dead bodies, but those usually end with the killer getting caught, so you’re not so sure about mimicking their methods. 

“I’m not sure,” Okkotsu says, tilting his head in thought. “Severing his limbs without the proper tools would be difficult. I guess we could carry him and bury him somewhere unassuming—unless you have a car that we could use?” A quick glance at you confirms that you don’t. He rubs his chin, nodding to himself. “Right. A garden cart will do, then. We should check to see if he has any identifiers on him, first, though. Oh, and we can’t forget about the teeth. Do you have any pliers?” He turns to you casually, eyes widening at the sight of your awe. 

Thin black brows furrow in confusion. “What?” He asks.

You blink. “Have you…ever…?” Your voice dies in your throat.

Thankfully, he gets it. “Oh. No! No, I’ve never murdered a person,” he denies, dipping his head and tugging the neckline of his plain white tee. A curious look crosses his face. “But I could,” he tacks on cautiously.

You hug your arms and give a half-assed shrug. You can almost feel the weight of a kitchen knife in your dominant hand; the quick, fluid motion of ending a life. 

“Anyone could,” you acquiesce, dismissing the conversation. Okkotsu hums mournfully in return. 

According to his ID, Yasuhiro Souta is a twenty-seven-year-old male who lives in Chiba. What he was doing tumbling through your window in the middle of the night is anyone’s guess. Well, he did tell you, sort of shakily before he made to lunge at you, that you were supposedly his Valentine for the night. How sweet!

Snip. You met him for the first time a little over two months ago. He dropped his wallet on the train, so you picked it up and handed it to him in a silly attempt to be a decent person. It resulted in the man refusing to let go of your hand for a solid five minutes. Yes, yes, what an adorable meet-cute! Snip. When you managed to pry your clammy hands out of his vice-like grip, it was your stop, and, oh, how fortuitous, it was Yasuhiro’s as well! He followed you off the train into a random coffee shop, and it was only when you got the help of the employees that he backed off, the doorbell chiming as the glass door swung behind his back. Snip.

You thought that was the end of it, and proceeded about your day, running errands for a few hours until you retreated home. It shook you up for a little, yes, but it was nothing too crazy. You doubted you’d ever see him again. 

Snip.

You slice Yasuhiro’s ID with your scissors until it’s a pile of ashes. 

Okkotsu’s on his knees, holding a pair of pliers to the light. Wedged between the metal lies a crooked tooth. He hums to himself, plopping the tooth in a ziplock bag. He wears a pair of green garden gloves he grabbed from his apartment; you’re wearing a matching set. The rubber’s a little too big for you, but you’re making it work.

It's as Okkotsu calmly adjusts the head in his lap, preparing to yank another tooth that you stare at your strange partner, wondering how in the hell you got yourself into this situation. It’s been happening every so often: your acceptance of reality swinging in the opposite direction like the pendulum on a grandfather clock. 

You shouldn’t have killed him.

You don’t care for Yasuhiro Souta’s life. You don’t care for the man who intended to assault you. But there’s not a chance in hell that this won’t get traced back to you. 

You're fucked.

Why did it have to be like this? Why do bad things happen to good people?

That’s the way the cookie crumbles, darling.

And you crumble—crumbled—are crumbling when you turn to your neighbor. “Okkotsu-san,” you say, picking at your dirty nails.

“Yuuta,” the man insists. What a freak. He's a freak, and he's good, and you don't deserve it.

You take a deep breath, mulling over your doomed fate. It doesn’t have to be his, too. “You should get out of here. While you still can.”

There's an awkward pause. The strange man pulls out another tooth and plops it in the baggy. “There,” he says warmly, then draws to his full height. “Do you have a coffee maker?” You ball your fists around the plastic handle in your hands. Calm, calm, stay calm. “Did you hear what I just said?” You ask. 

“Oh, I did,” Okkotsu hums. “I chose to ignore it.”

Your hands begin to shake as you repeat his words. “Ch—Chose to—” 

Okkotsu says your name pityingly. “I thought we already had this conversation," he questions with pinched brows. “Why are we—”

“We?!” You interrupt, incensed. We. It's as if the curtains have been drawn open, allowing the rays of the illuminating, scorching sun to trickle through. It blinds you, and you have the urge to pull your eyes out and shove them down his throat. “You thought we? Who are you? You don’t know a damn thing about me!”

“I think I know a few things about you,” Okkotsu smiles sweetly, gesturing to the dead body in your apartment.

“Do you, now?” You laugh and toss your hands up to the ceiling. “Great! I have an idea!" You glare, the metal edge of your scissors catching the light. "If you know what I’m capable of, then you should get the hell out." 

A pause. You pant, more worked up than have been all night and it's fucking ridiculous and you hate it. You want to choke—you want him to choke. On your blood-soaked fingers, preferably. He'd probably lick them clean. 

Unaware of your depraved thoughts, Okkotsu’s lips pull into a frown. He sighs, running a ghostly hand through his hair.

“I’m not scared of you,” he tells you, quietly.

You hold your breath. “Maybe you should be.”

Your insufferable neighbor takes a step forward, that stupid frown still on his stupid doll face. “What’s your plan?” He prompts. “Do you intend to confess? To go to prison?” You shake your head slowly and he softens. “You don’t deserve that,” he says, like he really means it.

Why did you let this man into your house? Why is he offering you hope? It’s too much. The scissors slide out of all your fingers save for one; your limbs sag with a weariness that’s settled deep in your bones. 

“You don’t know what I deserve.”

Okkotsu stops and considers you. Your chest heaves, your heart pounds, and you want out. You want out, and he can get out, and you don’t know… You don’t know why…

“If you want me to judge you, I won’t,” says Okkotsu. 

You shake your head at his dismissal, your eyes squeezed shut. “I can’t judge you,” he continues, and there goes his cold, calloused hand again, gingerly tilting your chin upwards. The pair of scissors in your clutches drops fruitlessly to the floor. When you look up, there’s something like pleading in his endless, starless eyes. “Trust me,” he begs. 

You shouldn’t. You know it with every fiber of your being that you should not trust Okkotsu Yuuta. The man who blinks like an owl and stares at you like you’re a mouse he can’t wait to swallow whole. Who blushes pink whenever you hold the elevator door for him. Who has cold fingers that cradle you so gingerly—who touches you like he knows you—who doesn’t cringe at the sight of dead bodies but gives a damn about a bit of blood staining the outside of your ear. 

You shouldn’t. Trust him. But you—you feel as if he’s reached inside your chest and plucked out your pulsing, blackened heart. 

“Do you love me?” You ask Okkotsu Yuuta again, heart throbbing in his hand.

His eyes don’t stray from yours. “Ask me again with my name,” he says quietly. 

…You don’t know if you want to. 

Releasing a breath, you push past him, snatch the ziplock bag from the floor, and stride towards the stove. “I’ll make coffee,” you say, already fiddling with the grinder.

Okkotsu lets you depart with a sigh.

“So what do you like to do when you’re not helping random people bury bodies?” You ask Okkotsu a couple of hours later. You stumble over a root in the dark, and Okkotsu’s quick to grab you by the waist and steady you. You continue, a bag full of your keys, water, pepper spray, freshly-bleached gloves, a burner phone that Okkotsu already had, for some reason, and two sets of clean clothes swinging against your back. You fidget with the shovel in your hands mindlessly, trying to get it to spin. A garden cart with a tarp draped over it creaks along the grass floor. The two of you have walked for who knows how long, but, according to him, you’re getting close. 

The man beside you hums, surprisingly chipper for the nefarious activities afoot. “When I’m not busy, I like to garden and crochet. I also like making food for my friends from time to time,” he says in a simple, humble manner. The last part doesn’t surprise you. He’s brought you helpings of food on the most random occasions, showing up at your doorstep with self-proclaimed “leftovers” and shoving full plates into your arms with a velvety smile. That does beg the question, though…

“Have you considered us friends this whole time?” You squint at him in the dark, only the moonlight carving out the contours of his subtle, delicate features. You’re kind of surprised. You two made decent neighbors but only ever talked in short bursts outside your rooms. Your conversations rarely ever broke past polite mumblings about the weather.  

Okkotsu pouts. “You mean, we’re not friends yet?” He asks, before breaking into a twinkling laugh. 

“Shut up,” you bite, but you laugh too, lightly shoving at his arm. Okkotsu, bless him, pretends to stumble. It takes you a moment to suppress the heat burning the tips of your ears, but you do get it under control, eventually. “I meant… Before?”

His expression smoothens out before he gives a soft shake of his head. “No, not quite. But, I wanted us to be."  

It’s quiet for a moment, nothing but the rustling under your feet and the ever-present, cacophonous sounds of nature. You spot a nest of sleeping birds tucked in between the branches of a tree and smile.

“Well,” you try to keep your cool, eyes sweeping over the forest's shadows, “Better late than never.”

It strikes you halfway to the burial grounds that Yasuhiro didn’t bring his phone with him to your apartment in his depraved, intoxicated state. He crawled up a tree, through your cracked-open bedroom window—conveniently avoiding cameras. So, once you’re done with this, you very may well be free.

It’s a terrifying notion, freedom.

“What about you?” Okkotsu asks you, something like ten minutes later. “What do you like to do for fun? Besides watch Sailor Moon, I mean.”

You bite your lip to keep from grinning. “Well,” you wonder aloud. “This is pretty fun, wouldn’t you say?” 

Okkotsu lets out a little breath before he softly admits his agreement. 

It rained earlier today, you forgot. The ground crumbles like clay when you swing the shovel into the ground. You and Okkotsu take turns making a grave, taking water breaks in between. There is hope alive in you, you realize, as the two of you work in tandem.

Yasuhiro Souta is lowered into the ground with all the dignity a dead man could possess. He lays atop a tarp and your old Persian rug. A stream rushes somewhere nearby, bubbling like blood, and you pray that the body will make good fertilizer. When your hand shakes, Yuuta grabs it. 

You bury your clothes on the way back, a mile out. The sun peaks over the horizon.

When you return to your room with Yuuta in tow, your emotions overwhelm you: you are terrified and gleeful and sorry for all you’ve done. 

It is mournfully quiet as you mop the purple tiles blue, bleach burning your nostrils and freshly scrubbed gloves. Yuuta’s left to clean the garden cart in the gardens. He returns shortly, though, offers you a small smile, and helps you scrub every inch of your apartment. 

You scrub, and scrub. 

And scrub.

“You’re beautiful,” Yuuta says to you when you’re in the middle of wiping your brow. You’re sitting cross-legged on your rugless kitchen floor, where a dead body once lay. Sweat clings to your skin in uncomfortable places and you reek of bleach. “Shut the fuck up and scrub, Yuuta,” you command. 

Yuuta’s serene smile is unparalleled to anything you’ve ever seen before.

You could probably fall in love with him, you contemplate as you watch your neighbor make fluffy pancakes in the comforts of his own kitchen. If you haven’t fallen in love with him, already, that is. You doubt you’ll ever have a connection with someone as profound as the bond you share with the soft-spoken man who helped you bury a dead body. 

Love, you marvel, in the span of a few hours.

It’s disquieting. 

After multiple showers, and after Yuuta’s stuffed you with more pancakes than you can chew, the pair of you are lounging on his tatami mat, a much-needed change in scenery. You have like, three hours before you need to go to work, which, Yuuta agrees, is crucial to maintaining a veneer of normalcy. Which means this impromptu nightmare date will have to come to an end—as all good things do.

“I should probably get to bed,” you say after a lull in conversation.

Yuuta nods, reasonably. “That makes sense, yeah.” 

“Got work in the morning and all that,” you continue in a nonchalant tone.

“Make sure your window’s locked.”

Fine. “Walk me out, will you?” You request. Okkotsu Yuuta, ever the gentleman, agrees, even though the front door is only a handful of feet away. He pushes himself off his knees and stands at full height, though his starless eyes are, as always, trained on you. You would probably find Yuuta’s full attention a little unsettling if you had not just slit a man’s throat that night. 

You avoid his gaze all the same—stopping at his doorstep with your hands twisting at your sides. Yuuta stops beside you and waits patiently for you to string your words together. 

You clear your throat. “Hey, um—”

“Hi,” Yuuta interrupts, and you smile, filled with the courage to go on. 

“So, the thing is… Well, I probably wouldn’t have made it anywhere far without you. I acted quite amateur back there, you’d think this was my first dead body I was trying to hide, or something, ha. Um, so yeah, thank you—from the most sincere and vulnerable depths of my heart. I guess I’ll see you around? Okay, bye.”

A hand wraps around your wrist before you can run home with your tail tucked between your legs. Yuuta murmurs your name in a soft, dulcet tone, and you’re not certain you’re prepared to hear whatever he has to say. You turn to face him anyway, because, well, you owe him that much.

“Yes?” 

“Don’t you have something to ask me?” He chides.

The pit in your stomach swoops. “Not that I recall,” you lie with a straight face.

“Try again,” Yuuta smiles sweetly, like a haunted little doll.

“It’s been a long day, you know—” 

“Cold, I’m afraid.”

“My brain isn’t functioning at its peak—” 

“Hmm, getting colder!”

“I don’t think I can.”

A pause. You avert your gaze and allow yourself to get analyzed by Yuuta’s doleful, starless eyes. “Hey,” he calls your name, asks you to look at him. 

You look at him.  

“Good," he hums.

You roll your eyes, loop an arm around his long neck, and drag him to you. 

Okkotsu Yuuta tastes like the earth. From dust to dust, you are at the end and beginning when you capture his lips between yours. He responds quickly, hands digging firmly into your waist as he knocks you into his door frame, and you quickly learn what it means to be savored. You intended the kiss to be a quick, rash, thing, but he slows you down, melds into you languidly like you have all the time in the world. When he sucks on your bottom lip, you both moan, breaking apart for air. Yuuta slips his hands underneath your shirt, and for once, his cold hands burn, lighting the fire for something you’re not certain you’ll be able to finish. 

“Go ahead and ask me already, love,” Yuuta murmurs into your ear. And, well, fuck. You melt. “Yuuta,” you whisper as he nips at your neck. “You love me, yes?” 

At that, he bites down at the hollow of your neck. You gasp, then sigh when he instantly cools the wound with his tongue. “Obviously,” he replies, quite simply, thumb swiping delicately at your stomach. 

“Great,” you gasp, and Yuuta looks at you and beams. 

And, there goes your heart again, pulsing in his cold, calloused hands. Cradle it gently, Yuuta, won’t you?

fin. if u made it this far, ily

[mins-fins]

ANGEL EYES. — [L.MH] [PREVIEW]

❝ sometimes, it feels as if mark lee is your guardian angel ❞

SYNOPSIS: innocent cherub eyes, gently soft hands, a heart of gold, mark lee is the golden boy whose experienced as much love as he gives back. his grades are high, his smile is wide, and his laughter is sweet. the only reason mark lee gets embroiled in a world of trouble is because of his pairing with the 'messed up foster kid' in a school project. it would be stupid to ever let himself get involved, but mark does anyway.

PAIRING: mark lee x male!reader

GENRE: mid–2000s au, high school au, strangers to lovers, fluff, angst, hurt/comfort, humor(?), slow burn, one sided pining to mutual pining, sadness as a romantic segway, relationship study, reader is a foster kid, mark pov, happy ending.. (i suppose)

WARNINGS: swearing, explicit language, violence, drug abuse, child abuse & neglect, family issues, mentions of death, smoking, homophobia, reader simply has the worst time and mark sobs about his circumstances, an awful amount of love that isn't realized to be love

WORD COUNT: 2.7k (preview) | ..pending (full fic)

NOTES: hello everyone, this is my baby, the birth was very special, i love my baby so much 💗 listen! i started this in early august and i am STILL going, this going to be LONG.. longest mins-fins work ever long 😞 im estimating 30–40k, the power of mark lee yall 😇 it's going to go on forever, and it's definitely going to be sad in some ways, i am currently about to hit 20k words.. sooooiooooo 😊😊 i hope you like this preview bc i really dk when the real thing is coming out 😭😭 im in so much pain rn, let me nap now 😴

BEFORE IT WAS IN THE CRISP AUTUMN ATMOSPHERE, mark lee had met you at the local police station. it was only a few months prior, august of 2004 brought the prospect of donghyuck doing everything to try and get arrested, prospects that mark could only respond with under the breath swears. he loves donghyuck, he really does, but driving shouldn't have been his first choice. in all of the friendships mark has had with other people in his life, donghyuck has always brought a wave of chaos along with him, the exact opposite of who mark's mom would advise him to stay away from, but she'd always had a soft spot for him, mark can't exactly blame her.

fresh off turning seventeen and utterly clueless as to what the future would bring, mark only found himself at the police station for one reason. donghyuck had driven without a license. yep, sixteen years old and he assumed doing an illegal u-turn was the way to end his summer.

mark has always been a stand up kid. the kind who handed out his mom's cookies to the neighbors. the kind who called for stray cats in alleyways. the kind who was simply an innocent bystander to all the bullshit his friends would pull.

so when donghyuck called him from a jail phone, voice heightened in indignation as he begged for mark to come make a case for him, the older really had no choice but to do so. mark had never been to a police station before, afraid of catching sight of real criminals in the flesh by just walking past the building. he had heard too many scary stories, had terrible ideas of human beings planted in his head.

and even as a seventeen year old who had experienced life enough that such things shouldn't have terrified him anymore, there was still a small pit in his stomach as he rounded the corner in direction of the building.

"and how exactly am i supposed to bail you out?" an eyebrow raise accompanied mark's inquiry, and donghyuck scoffed as he shook his cuffed hands.

"you don't have to bail me out, my dad knows the sheriff, i'm just getting off with a warning" he whispered, sweat on his brow as he shared that familiar 'no shit' look with mark (an ironic expression really, he's the only one between the two of them that's been in cuffs).

mark snickered. "you talk so much when you're the one handcuffed".

"watch your mouth, you need me".

just as donghyuck was about to let out a swear in addition to his snappy response, said sheriff walked into the room, tight lipped smile painting his face. "don't try that again donghyuck, or next time you'll end up in a cell".

in a instant, donghyuck's blood ran cold, mark almost laughed at the sight, but he remained still, watching. the older man glanced up, catching mark's anxiety ridden eyes. "and you are?"

"this is mark, my best friend" donghyuck was quick to quip, a hand placed onto his shoulder.

mark's stomach dropped to his feet, it isn't as if he did anything wrong, it was simply on par for him to be severely anxious around law enforcement in general, he was just afraid he'd somehow get arrested for nothing at all.

"ohhh i remember you, i used to assume you two were brothers".

mark let out a breathy (and clearly faked) chuckle, trying to bury his anxiety. he could never explain it, even if you gave him all the words to, it's not like he's a bad kid, he just finds himself tensing often. "no, just friends.."

"it's good to have someone so close as support" he narrowed his eyes at donghyuck, who stifled his scoff at the clear sarcasm lacing his tone. he then scrunched his nose, watching as donghyuck placed a performative smile on his lips. "now you, sir, we need to have a talk".

donghyuck frowned, whining out complaints as he's dragged away by the sheriff. "can you wait, mark?"

mark blinked, shoving his hands into his pant pockets. he nodded, out of words. the two bantered back and forth like friends, something mark could only stare idly at. he made his way over to the seats beside the door, where, nestled in the corner of one of them, was you.

you were scribbling something into your notebook, unaware of the eyes on you. mark sat two chairs away from you, tapping his feet onto the floor as he heard the faint sounds of scoldings. safe driving, don't get into a car without a license, your future won't be any better if you continue this shit.

swearing at a child, mark found that rich. he glances beside him again, now watching you intently. you were engrossed in the manner your pen scratched against your paper, mark had figured out through endless staring that you hadn't been writing, but drawing.

you avoided his eyes for a while, ignorant to the eyes gazing you up and down. you then glanced in mark's direction, almost startling him out of his seat with the sudden stare. you blinked, puzzled out of your mind. "is there something on my face?"

mark tensed in his seat, feeling his stomach swirl, was he staring so much that you felt offended? he felt guilty immediately, his lips parting immediately and releasing a silent breath. "no.. no i'm sorry, i didn't mean to".

you shrugged your shoulders, one click to your pen. mark recognized you, but he simply couldn't conjure up an explanation as to why you were sitting in a police station at this time, drawing whatever into your notebook. "so why are you staring then?"

"i'm trying to figure out why you're here" mark muttered, fingers fiddling with his necklace as he tried to get his tone straight in fear of again offending you. "i'm sure you aren't committing crimes".

"i can say the same for you, mr golden boy".

mark's lips turned up slightly, his hands twitching from where they rested on his lips. "i got kicked out.. always come here to let dad and mom cool off for a few hours".

the words earned an eyebrow raise from mark, that was strange to hear, especially from another person in regards to their own parents. mark had never really experienced such a thing, the way you described it made his nose scrunch. "what?"

before you could respond to that one, a police officer entered the room, one you seemed to recognize by the way your eyes lit up. "come on l/n, time to go".

a frown settled onto your lips. "do i really have to go now? you know how my parents are.."

"i can't keep you here, it would technically be illegal".

"it's not like they'll care anyway.." you mumbled, slamming your notebook shut with yet another click to your pen. "just an hour longer, please?"

there was a sense of hope in your eyes, maybe he would actually take your words into account. mark simply stared, staggered by what he was witnessing. the officer watched the change of your expressions, your thumb playing at the button on your pen, continuously clicking over and over. as the clicks amplified, so did the sound of your labored breathing.

"you know i can't do that kid".

your frown deepened, teeth sinking into your bottom lip. worry, that's what mark remembered. your eyes widened, but not in the usual shock, simply in disappointment. you cursed under your breath, muttering something about your parents getting pissed at your reappearance. you stopped clicking your pen, letting the chagrin settle onto you. "yeah.."

you sucked your teeth, imitating the look of a sulky child. mark was consumed by his silence, completely confused by the situation. he didn't give a comment, simply watched the whole entire thing happen. "i'll give you a few minutes, don't worry".

you didn't respond to that one, your eyes following the police officer who strolled out the door towards his car. you bit into your lip again, hands grasping onto your notebook and thumb still pressing onto your pen. "what bullshit".

mark continued staring, his hands clutching at his thighs. you then glanced at him once more, causing for him to flinch back. you stayed silent, watching him as much as he did you a few minutes prior.

"are you alright?" he muttered, leaving his voice at a low volume. he didn't want to raise it, he wanted to keep it at a volume that kept you comfortable.

you snickered, clicking your tongue against the roof of your mouth. "fine, going home is just my worst nightmare".

mark's fingers found themselves sliding across his legs, teeth sliding against each other in back and forth motions. he blinked his big brown eyes, staring with an assured gaze he hoped would somehow make it's way to you. "i'm sorry".

he whispered those two words as if he was in physical pain, eyes watering for an inexplainable moment. he couldn't help it, and he had no idea why he couldn't help it. it was embarrassing how much he felt at the moment.

you stared back, lips pursuing. your expressions did at least seventy transformations, as if you were in disbelief at someone having empathy for you. you seemed distraught, why is he tearing up? that's so strange.

you chuckled, hoping it would quell his worries. "it's okay, not like it's your fault".

"still, you shouldn't have to feel that way about going home.. your parents shouldn't be kicking you out".

you grimaced, put off by the words. it isn't as if they were terrible, you just seemed.. astonished. why did he care? it was simply weird to you.

"well thank you for your concern but i'll be fine".

mark blinked away the tears threatening to escape his eyes, god what was wrong with him? why did he even tear up at that? he totally weirded you out.

"yeah um.. i'm sorry" mark bit into his inner cheek, letting out a heavy sigh. "just have a good day" a theatric smile placed itself on his lips, he was definitely trying to convince himself that it wasn't that bad of a situation.

you stared longer, seemingly itching to say something. there were words resting on the tip of your tongue, mark could practically sense it. "yeah, you too".

and when you stood up to walk out of the door, donghyuck coincidentally escaped the clutches of the sheriff, stumbling out of his office with his arms crossed over his chest. the door closed behind you, and mark watched the entire time.

"what took you so long?" mark uttered, eyes casting donghyuck's way.

the younger huffed in his usual donghyuck manner, hands on his hips. "he was giving me a big talk about safe driving" he placed heavy air quotes around the last two words, lips curled into a frown.

mark licked his teeth, his thoughts retracing back to you. "do you know him..?"

donghyuck blinked, his mouth opening to ask about who until he saw the way mark motioned his head. "y/n? oh yeah, he's around here all the time, the officers basically take him in whenever.."

"why?"

his voice scratched like sandpaper, donghyuck wincing at the tone. he then shrugged his shoulders, his attitude puzzled. "something about his parents not really caring, it's pretty shitty".

mark's lips parted in a freezing motion, his stomach pain only worsening. "that's scary.. feeling safer at the police station than your own home".

"i don't know much about his situation, just know his parents have a terrible temper".

mark swallowed the lump in his throat, his head beginning to pound at the information given. he tried to distract himself by thinking about school coming up soon, but he was snapped back into reality by donghyuck.

"why are you even asking me about y/n?"

mark glanced up at his childhood friend, a small whisper in his mind telling him to lie. "just curious that's all".

the lie laid bitter on his tongue, but he didn't allow for donghyuck to dwell on it, rising from the chair he's practically glued himself to. "promise me you'll never illegally drive again, the officers here look like they wanna kill me".

donghyuck rolled his eyes, tease evident in his attitude. "okay markie, promise".

mark pushed his shoulder in retaliation.

that? that was two months ago.

before the crisp autumn weather drifted through the atmosphere, before the leaves began falling to decorate the ground in orange and brown hues, mark lee had met you at the local police station. your legs crossed, pen clicking, and nose buried into your notebook.

september came and went rather quickly, the scorching heat of the summer air transforming into the russet autumn scenery which drifts into october. the temperature steadily dropping, sweaters becoming more and more common in his closet, mark can't exactly focus in class during the first few months of school.

when mark hears his name fall from his teacher's lips in pair with yours, he snaps out of an episode of disassociation, blinking up. "what?"

his teacher deadpanned, readjusting her glasses. she doesn't even seem surprised by his lack of focus anymore, his exhaustion is constantly evident. "project partners mark, you'll be paired with y/n".

mark only parts his lips in response, the words rendering him speechless. he glances around the classroom as he listens to the older woman's voice blurs into the background, catching sight of you in the far back, again scribbling into your notebook, your manner reminiscent of how you acted the first time you two met.

he stares for a while before again looking forward, his mouth going dry as he tries again to focus, but of course, he can't. his mind stays focused on you throughout the whole class, even after the endless words he lets blur away.

you spin your pen between your fingers, it's the same pen you had that day, maybe you have some sort of attachment to it or something, maybe it's your favorite pen, maybe someone special gifted that pen to you.

maybe mark's letting it all get to his head, why is he even making assumptions when he hasn't walked up to you yet?

while everyone else rushes to leave the class, mark rises from his seat and again glances over at you, slinging his back over his shoulder.

you're riveted by what you're doing in your notebook, so absorbed that you barely hear the shuffling footsteps making their way around the many desks towards yours. your lips turn down as you smudge the ink on the page, a small suck of the teeth adding to your frustration.

"um.. hi" mark whispers, watching as you glance up and pause, one click to your pen. you don't respond immediately, studying mark for a while, and mark tenses up under your gaze, sucking a breath between his teeth.

"hi".

"we uh— were partners for the project".

your smile is neutral. "i know".

mark began biting the skin off his lips, hands gripping at his backpack. "i don't know where you want to start, uh.. maybe we could go to the library?"

he's just saying what he's hoping will work. he doesn't exactly know you yet, he assumes your one off interaction at the police station left a sour taste in your mouth.

but unbeknownst to mark's anxious inner voice, you smile, not exactly a neutral one this time, a much better smile ('better' in terms of expression, your lips stretch into an aspect of satisfaction).

"that'd be nice".

mark nods, almost too enthusiastically he thinks. how embarrassing. you let out a silent yawn, oblivious to the battle mark is having in his head. "tomorrow maybe we can start?"

your smile again becomes neutral, but at least mark doesn't think you want to kill him. "yeah, tomorrow is fine".

tomorrow. tomorrow is fine.

"okay, have a good day y/n".

mark rushes out of the classroom much too fast, he feels a little terrified of you. maybe you don't exactly want to kill him, maybe you just look at everyone else in that way, maybe it won't be that bad to be paired with you.

still, mark isn't sure why his mind tells him he should stay away from you.

[sunny-does-jjk]

Hello! I am back on my bullshit:

Jogo gets fucking kidnapped AU (here)

Our resident volcano man gets dragged back to the school after the scuffle w Gojo on S1 (first meeting). Gojo gets special treatment so Jogo also gets special treatment (AKA not killing him on the spot) and becomes Itadori's movie buddy for the time being.

Jogo collects cursed objects as a hobby. He (forcibly) becomes a specialist on them. He is also unfortunately stuck w Satoru Gojo all the time bc of this and that.

But what about the other Disaster Curses and Kenjaku? They presume him as dead (he's not, he's in a basement somewhere eating snacks w Ryoumen Sukuna's vessel).

[martybaker]

4 - figure skater Dream/ hockey player Hob please? 👀

Ask me about my wips

Thank you for the ask! Sorry it took me so long to answer it, but I actually managed to finish the one scene (or rather two consecutive scenes) I had drafted for this au back when the idea was first conceived, so thank you for the inspiration ❤️

I am posting all that now, because why the hell not 🙃

Fair warning, this story has a very romcom logic, which is to say, don’t think about it too hard 😅

Hob and Dream attend the same university and the school’s doing some cuts and only one sport will continue to get financial support - either hockey or figure skating. Dream and Hob have a challenge to win a major competition by the end of the semester, whoever manages to do that will secure the financial support for their sport. In the meantime they of course fall in love.

The following scene features a fun dynamic that I enjoyed exploring - Dream and Corinthian as ex boyfriends :) There’s also a lil scene with Hob at the end. Enjoy :)

————————————-

There’s a slow clapping sound from the bleachers and Dream skids to a stop.

“Hello, beautiful.”

Dream sighs. This is the last person he would want to deal with right now. “What do you want, Cori,” he asks, resuming his routine practice, trying to focus on the movements rather than on the unwelcome presence of his ex.

“Why, I just came to enjoy the view.”

“I don’t have time for your bullshit.”

“Don’t you? I don’t see any company. Where’s your new puppy?”

So that’s what this is about. Dream shakes his head in disbelief. They broke up five months ago and Cori would still come back with obnoxious propositions. It was over, there was nothing else to say on the topic. There was no reason for him to explain himself to Cori, it wasn’t his business who Dream keeps company with.

“He’s not my puppy.”

“Ain’t he? He follows you around everywhere, salivating at your feet.”

Dream feels the irritation rising in him with every word Cori says, even though he knows that’s exactly what the guy’s aiming for - trying to provoke him.

“Leave Hob alone, Cori,” he hisses through clenched teeth.

“Ah, so you do care about him. Thought he was just a plaything.”

“He’s nobody’s plaything. Leave. Him. Alone.”

Cori sneers. “I really don’t understand what you can possibly see in him. What’s he have that I don’t?”

Dream snorts. “He’s not a self-centered prick, for starters.”

“That’s rich coming from you. We’re birds of a feather, remember?”

Dream doesn’t offer any response to that, which just makes Cori push harder.

“I’ve been making my way through the lacrosse team, but hockey players sure have their appeal, maybe I should mix things up a bit.”

Dream stops the routine and skates towards Cori, stopping by the boards which create a border between them.

“Can’t you find another pass-time than messing with people?”he hisses. “It’s an embarrassment that I ever believed you to be worth anything.”

Cori’s brow twitches, breaking his mask of nonchalance.

“You’re a nightmare, Cori. You play with your victims until they start to bore you and then you leave them to bleed out on the sidewalk.”

Cori snorts. “Please. They know exactly what they’re getting into with me. Everybody knows I don’t linger.”

Dream raises his eyebrows at that.

Cori frowns. “You were different. You were special.”

Dream snorts.

Cori frowns deeper, jaw clenching. He steps forward, up to the boards. “You were. I thought we had something.”

Dream shakes his head and turns his back on Cori, skating back to the middle of the ice rink.

“I bet he can’t make you scream like I can!” Cori shouts.

Dream snorts. Nothing can piss Cori off more than being ignored. “Maybe I am just good at pretending, have you thought about that?”

“Liar. You used to love our games.”

“Everything’s a game to you, Cori. That’s the problem. You don’t know when to stop. You love watching people suffer, you’re a cruel sadist, but not just in bed. You exploit every weakness. And you make everything about you. On my birthday, you took me to a goddamn shooting range!”

“You said you’d like to try.”

Dream huffs in disbelief, turning back around to face Cori.

“From a bow! I wanted to try shooting from a bow! You were only half-listening, as always. I despise guns!”

“It ain’t my fault you don’t have the guts for it.”

Dream laughs bitterly, shaking his head.

“See, this is exactly what I mean. You’re doing it again. Absolving yourself from guilt. Making it my fault. I’ve had enough of your mindgames. I’ve had enough of your sadistic universe.”

Cori shrugs. “That’s how I was made. I thought you could understand. I thought you could take it.”

Dream sighs tiredly. “That’s not a relationship, Cori. When one side is in charge and the other just takes it.”

Cori rises an eyebrow, his tone mocking. “If you wanted to switch, you could have just asked.”

Dream stares at him, unimpressed.

“This is pointless. Conversations with you never lead anywhere.”

He turns his back on Cori once again and resumes practicing his routine.

“He can’t give you what I can give you.”

“Whatever it is you think you’re giving, I don’t want it,” Dream says with finality. He doesn’t react to anymore taunts and insults Cori throws his way, until the man gives up on trying to get a reaction out of him and leaves.

The moment the door shuts behind Cori, Dream drops to his knees, exhausted mentally rather than physically. He lies on his back on the ice, staring at the ceiling.

He doesn’t know how many minutes pass like that.

When he hears the door open again, his hackles rise immediately. “Which part of ‘fuck off’ did you not understand,” he growls.

There’s a silent pause. Then he hears Hob’s voice say: “Er, sorry, I will leave if you want me to.”

Dream quickly sits up. “No. I…you can stay. I thought you were someone else.”

“Oh. Okay.”

Hob joins him on the ice rink. He’s not wearing skates, slide-stepping on the ice towards Dream. Dream cannot help but compare it to Cori’s approach. Cori would never risk his own dignity by trying to get to him on the slippery surface. Hob doesn’t hesitate to join Dream on his playground, letting Dream have the advantage of being on skates - Dream could leave in an instant if he wanted to, and Hob wouldn’t be able to catch up with him.

But then again, Hob must feel at home on the ice just as much as Dream does.

When Hob gets to him, he frowns at Dream who’s still sitting on the ice, making no attempt to get up. “Are you alright? Did you fall? Are you hurt?”

He kneels down by Dream’s side.

Dream sighs, flopping back onto his back. “No, no and no.”

“Ah. Well, may I join you?”

Dream shrugs.

Hob lies down next to him and they stare at the ceiling in companionable silence.

“I’m picturing the ceiling painted like a night sky speckled with stars, Van Gogh style, maybe? Wouldn’t it be beautiful?” Hob says.

Dream looks at the man’s profile, baffled and amused. “This is a sport’s rink, not an art gallery.”

Hob shrugs. “I just think it would look cool.”

Dream sighs. “I don’t know how you do it.”

“Do what?” Hob asks, turning his head to face Dream.

“Keep your unwavering optimism.”

Hob smiles. “Ah, well. I get up in the morning and I decide it’s going to be a lovely day, I am going to meet lovely people and experience something new. I feel very lucky that I get to do things that I love. And there’s so much beauty in the world, waiting to be seen.”

Dream frowns at the ceiling. His voice is but a whisper when he says: “I have to try. So hard. To see it.”

Hob looks at him with concern. “You find skating beautiful, don’t you?”

“Of course.”

“Then, doesn’t that make you happy? Don’t you feel lucky you get to do something you love everyday? That you have something to look forward to?”

“….I suppose.”

“And isn’t that beautiful?”

Dream looks at Hob, he looks into his big brown eyes that whisper promises of warmth and shelter and succor, promises of a bright happy future.

He lets himself believe in it if just for a moment.

“Perhaps. Perhaps it is beautiful.”

They don’t address the elephant in the room - the knowledge that by the end of the semester, only one of them will get to continue pursuing his dreams, surrounded by friends and family - by the community they found here. Building on the foundations they’ve laid down in this town.

The other one will have to give up on those dreams.

Or leave.

[super-unpredictable98]

The Eighth Child (~TUA AU~) - Season 4

Chapter 1: Your Dreams Came True, Now What?

Warning: Strong language, guns

a/n: Hello everyone! I really missed The Eighth Child and I hope you all have as well. We can all agree this season was pure bullshit, so here I am with a very short series of chapters to fix it. Welcome to the final show, hope you all like it <3 also thank you so much @jozstankovich for supporting me and being my guinea pig beta reader

(The Eighth Child Masterlist)

"Of course we're coming, Dieguito!" Victoria said on the phone while trying to tame Fortune's big curly mane. "Tunnie is very excited to play with Gracie and the twins. Alright, see you later!"

"Lunch is ready," Klaus called from the kitchen. He wore a frilly apron on top of his completely normal and absolutely not flamboyant outfit. "No no no! Fortune, don't run, we don't wanna get hurt, right?"

"Right, a safe girl is a happy girl!" She repeated what her father always said.

Something about the pandemic mixed with Fortune growing into her own person, realizing Victoria was no longer indestructible, and Klaus staying fully sober, made him into a complete nut job. He was scared of absolutely anything and everything that could harm him and his family. The idea of dying and not being there to raise his kids was too much for him to even think about.

"You too, Liebling, you're in no condition to run," he caressed her baby bump.

Victoria and Klaus started off their married life as happy as can be, but the real world was right ahead and with his new sobriety and paranoia, it became harder and harder for her to... how should one put it... feel attracted to him.

Klaus was a completely changed man, his wife didn't necessarily like that. But alas, every once in a while, they still had some romance and of course she got pregnant by chance one of those times.

"I'm not sick, Klausie. Don't you remember when I was pregnant with Fortune and we would party all night in the clubs near campus? I was fine and so is she."

"I know, I know, but we were totally irresponsible! The world was different too, no COVID for starters..." He shivered before taking a bite of his risotto.

Victoria sighed, looking at the several cardboard boxes surrounding them. Right after marrying, she used her saved money to rent the apartment she used to rent back in her college days with Klaus, she loved that place and it was special to begin their new lives there.

After about a year, she made enough money with her bakery for a downpayment on the apartment. But now with their second child on the way, it wasn't viable to live in such a tiny place, even though it hurt to let it go.

"Something wrong, Mommy?" Fortune asked, seeing her mother's face. Sadness, conformity, longing, and a little disgust in her eyes.

"No, baby, I'm okay," Victoria sighed, but her husband also noticed that look. It had started about two and a half years ago when he was really focused on his sobriety journey, she seemed to simply lose interest in the person he was becoming.

Every morning, he woke up afraid she'd be gone. Every day when she left for work, he was scared she'd meet someone more exciting that would fill that void he unwillingly left behind. He was terrified she'd leave him like she did back when they were younger.

"Hey, Schatzi, since Fortune is having that sleepover with Gracie tonight, we should do something special," Klaus suggested.

"Like what?" She gave him that vacant look like she was dead inside.

"Romantic dinner, watching a movie, some... special cuddles," he winked.

"Sure," she sighed. Something horribly dangerous happens when your dreams come true... You're stuck with them.

**

"Die Hard!" Diego opened the door to Brigaderia Oito, Victoria's bakery. "How's it going? How's Klus?"

"It's alright, he's... sober," she mumbled. "Ah Dieguito, married life isn't what I signed up for."

"Trouble in paradise, huh? It's tough, marriage is hard work. I feel like everything I do is meaningless, but in the end, we're with the people we love, and we have amazing kids. We built something good."

"I guess so," she nodded, giving him his usual carrot cake with gooey brigadeiro on top. "I just wish Klaus would go back to being... Klaus. Not the drugs you know, but the wild nature, it's like he's broken. We barely ever have sex anymore."

"Ew! I don't wanna hear about that!" Diego pretended to gag. "My two siblings having sex? Barf!"

She rolled her eyes and placed her hand on her belly before turning to get Grace's birthday cake. She baked it and decorated it herself with cute jungle animals.

"Oh, it looks amazing!" He gasped. "How much do I owe you?"

"Nothing, it's part of her present. Only the best for my goddaughter."

"Thank you so much, Vicky," he smiled, giving her a hug over the counter and giving her belly a pat. "Already know if it's a girl or a boy?"

"Not yet, we'll get to know on the next ultrasound."

"Hope it's a boy this time, my little man needs more friends, he's drowning in estrogen."

She huffed and gave him a playful shove. "Keep the cake in the fridge."

"Thanks a million, Vicky! I'll see you later."

"See you later," she turned to pick up the phone. "Hello, Brigadeiria Oito, how can I help you?"

"It's me, Schnucki!" Klaus said into the phone. "I just picked up Fortune from school, she choked on the pulp of her orange juice."

"What? Is she okay?"

"Yeah, she's okay now, she just had a little coughing fit and was back to normal... it's just, that she got scared and wanted to come back home."

"Klaus! I can't believe you pulled our daughter out of school because she lightly choked on juice! You're gonna ruin her with all this coddling!"

"She was scared!"

"Because she sees you scared all the damn time!"

"We can talk about this later after the party. She's here now and listening."

"Why did you put me on speaker?"

"Holding a cell phone close to your ear isn't good because the temperature-"

"JESUS CHRIST! SHUT UP!" She shouted and only then she noticed there was a client waiting for her. "Just a second, I'll be with you in no time..."

"Why are you like this? Pregnancy hormones driving you crazy?" He asked.

"No, Klaus, you are! Talk to you later, I have to work... someone has to work in this household!"

**

"Why is Mama mad at you?" Fortune asked as she rode in the back of Allison's car with Claire and her father to the party venue.

"Mama is nervous because she's pregnant, that makes mommies a little angry sometimes," Klaus said, adjusting her seat belt for the millionth time.

"She said it wasn't because of the baby."

"Alright... you know, sometimes daddies and mommies fight, my Tunnie baby, but that doesn't mean it's forever and it doesn't mean something bad is gonna happen."

"What if you two split?" The little girl frowned.

"That's not happening, your parents have been attached at the hip since they were toddlers," Allison chuckled. "It was kinda disgusting."

"If you're Aunt Vicky's sister and Uncle Klaus' sister... does that mean they're siblings too?" Claire asked.

"That's a very long very lovely story for when you're a little bit older, Claire-bear" Klaus said before turning back to his daughter. "My little princess, don't worry about mommy, okay? I'm always here for you, and she'll always be here for you too, we love you more than the entire universe. It's just that things changed a little, but nothing that cannot be fixed."

"Hey, guys!" Victoria waved at them once they parked, she was bringing four boxes of party sweets, Brazilian style of course... beijinho, brigadeiro, bicho de pé, ninho e nutella, casadinho.

"Hey! Hey! Don't go around carrying that! You're in no condition!" Klaus took his car helmet off and rushed to help her with the boxes.

"Relax, she's pregnant, not dead," Lila came right behind with the huge bottles of soda.

"Leave it to me," he insisted.

Once they were inside, Grace and the twins came running to meet Claire and Fortune. Victoria hugged her nieces and nephew, as did Klaus before Diego gave them a look and pointed with his eyes to the doll house which was secluded and empty.

"We need to talk," she mumbled.

"Yeah... don't take your eyes off Fortune, Claire," Klaus asked. "Don't let her eat or drink anything with red 40 or 4-MEI!"

"You say as if we didn't sneak out at least three times a week to stuff our faces with doughnuts at Griddy's..." Victoria sighed as she pulled him to the doll house.

"We had superpowers and it was a different time, we were young and dumb."

"We enjoyed life," she sat down on a tiny pink chair. "We don't need to feed our child crack, but if she drank a little coke once in a while, she'll be fine!"

"What happened to us?" He looked up with puppy eyes. "We haven't fucked since we conceived this baby, you look at me like I'm a pile of cow shit, you turn your face when I go to kiss you..."

"It just hurts to see what you became. This isn't the man I married. You need therapy."

"This again? No therapy! I don't need it and we probably can't afford it."

"You're going insane!"

"Give me a chance, okay? I promise I'll make it right tonight when we get home."

She nodded, wanting more than anything to believe him. "Alright, let's see about tonight."

When the couple left the doll house, the entire family was already there, well almost the entire family.

"Oh give me a break... fake Ben is here? Who invited him?" Victoria huffed, she never really accepted Sparrow Ben as a part of the family, because he wasn't. She was even a little happy when he was arrested, meaning he'd stay away.

"Believe me, I didn't wanna be here either," he rolled his eyes.

"Come on guys, no fighting!" Luther emerged from the ball pit. "It's a family night."

"Yeah, you're right, can't let him ruin it... Cincooooo!" She went to hug Five. "Look at you, all grown up! It's like every day you get bigger, come here, little CIA man!"

"I'm not a damn child, you know?" He reluctantly hugged her back. "And I'm not little!"

"Where's Viktor?" She asked.

"He said he was coming," Luther smiled.

"Victoria, can we go outside for a little bit? I'm hyperventilating, this place is so full of people and nobody's wearing a mask," Klaus whispered.

She shook her head defeated. "Just take deep breaths, honey, it's okay. Did you see fake Ben is back? Look, our brothers are here, we're still waiting for Viktor though."

"Vicky!" Diego called from a corner while holding a piñata.

She was happy to leave Klaus to calm down for a moment and join her other brother. "What's up?"

"Does this look like a West Side piñata to you? I mean, it's clearly East Side, right?"

"Um... what's the difference?"

"The fringe, the eyes, the colors! And the fact that Lila told me she'd be on the West Side today and this looks like an East Side piñata."

"Oh Dieguito... don't overthink, it's probably a misunderstanding, let's not jump to conclusions, alright?"

"Maybe you were right, you know? I work all day and it kills me, the kids suck whatever energy I have left, and the in-laws... I'm glad they're alive in this timeline, but I don't want them living in our house."

Victoria nodded, understanding the feeling, but she didn't want their marriage to end because of her own doubts.

"Hey, cariño, come on... I know I didn't like Lila when you first got together, but she really grew on me. She's a good mom and she really loves you. It's just a rough patch."

"Liebling, please... can we step out just a little bit?" Klaus approached them.

Accepting her fate, she nodded and took his hand so they could get some fresh air. But the moment she stepped out, she knew something was wrong, there was a wrapped gift on the pavement and she picked it up.

"From Uncle Viktor?" She read the card.

"Why would he leave the gift on the street and take off?" Klaus wondered.

She started looking around for clues and after some inspection, she found a note on her windshield.

"Your brother Viktor has been kidnapped. Follow my exact instructions and no harm will come to him," she read the contents of the note. "Fucking shit cunt ass motherfucker... let's get the others."

**

After leaving Lila's parents in charge of the party, the old Hargreeves clan and Lila jumped into Diego's van and they headed to the address written on the note.

"Everyone stay behind me, I got a gun," Five announced, pulling his revolver as they entered the dry cleaner corresponding to the number they were given.

"Did you bring a gun to a children's birthday party?" Klaus hissed, his face covered by a gas mask. "Can you smell this? This place is a chemical wasteland."

"Says the man who made me swim in the fucking sewer six years ago," Victoria huffed.

"It's Viktor!" Luther pointed at the short man tied up to a chair with a bag over his head.

She ran and got the bag off. "Oh hey, Vik, long time no see!"

"Hey Vic yourself..." he mumbled as she started untying him with the help of Luther.

"Who kidnapped you? Dad and his goons?" She asked.

"I doubt it, this is amateur hour," Five shook his head.

"I apologize if my methods are a little crude, but it's my first kidnapping," A man came from the back. He looked harmless enough, but he held a gun, so out of instinct, Victoria stood in front of Klaus like a shield. "Hopefully it'll be my last, but I need your help."

"Kidnapping our brother and pointing a gun at us won't buy you much goodwill," Five murmured, pointing his gun at the man.

"It was the only way I could make sure you came here, all of you. I couldn't leave anything to chance, especially when it comes to the Umbrella Academy."

"Wow, haven't heard that name in years!" Victoria scoffed.

"Sorry pal, the Umbrella Academy doesn't exist," Five said.

"Only in our hearts," she completed.

The man put the gun down and opened a box full of artifacts, pictures, newspaper articles, masks, action figures...

"Oh look! The time we saved the Eiffel Tower! Remember?" Vicky smiled. "Zombie Gustav Eiffel!" She said in a silly voice.

"Where did you get this?" Diego asked.

"It was all in this box in the back of my daughter's car. Her name is Jennifer."

"Ugh, I hate that name," Victoria groaned, she had hated this name since the incident that took her brother's life.

"I don't know where she got it, but about a year ago she met these new friends and she started going to these strange meetings. Some very strange people, call themselves The Keepers. And then over time, she stopped talking to me, I believe something terrible happened, because we were very close."

Klaus picked Dave's dog tags from the box and frowned, which made Victoria's blood boil. She was very understanding of that whole thing when it happened, but lately, she didn't need much to get angry at him.

"Put that shit back!" She snagged the chain from his hands and threw it in the box.

"Sorry, sorry..." He mumbled.

"How did you find us?" Luther asked.

"I saw you on TV, Toss N' Wash," the strange man pointed at Allison.

"Ha! See? No small parts," Klaus poked his sister's shoulder.

"I've been watching you for a while actually and I apologize. I'm so sorry! I know you'd probably kill me if you could," the man looked at Victoria. "But she's all I have left, you must know what that feels like."

"I actually do," she sighed. "But we're not the same as we were, we don't have powers anymore."

"Yeah, we're not special," Diego agreed.

"Speak for yourself, tubby," Ben whispered under his breath and earned a punch in the shoulder from Victoria.

"I might not have powers, but I can kick your ass!"

"Give us 24 hours, we'll find your daughter," Five took the box quickly.

"Yes! Thank you!" The man cried. "Thank you very much, Umbrella Academy! I think you're special!"

"Five! What are you doing?" Allison hissed, following him outside. "You know we can't help, why did you do that?"

"Because... of this," Five pulled out a jar of marigold from the box.

**

"What I wanna know is how the daughter of a dry cleaner ends up with a jar of marigold in the trunk of her car," Five wondered.

The siblings decided to grab dinner at a Japanese restaurant and discuss their theories.

"Could it be something to do with Dad?" Klaus clumsily shoved rice into his mouth with the chopsticks (because of course, raw fish was too dangerous to eat with all the contamination risks)

"No, he took away our powers, and for good reason," Victoria shook her head.

"How do we know that's not just glow stick juice?" Diego teased.

"For the sake of discussion, let's say this is legit. Does anyone here actually want their power back?" Five asked.

"No way!" Klaus yelped. "For the first time in my life, I'm sober... and happy. And most importantly 100% poltergeist free."

"You're anything but free, you don't leave the house and you wear gloves and a mask in public," Victoria pointed out.

"At least I'm in control."

"Hmm I smell divorce," Ben taunted.

"Shut the fuck up! You're not even one of us, fuck off," she grabbed the jar of marigold and held tightly to it.

"It's a hard no for me too. I have a bar, a life..." Viktor quickly said to end the discussion.

"You're all such losers, we should be mainlining this shit right now!" Ben groaned.

"Whoever wants powers back, raise your hand!" Victoria stood up. Nobody raised their hands except Ben.

"We have everything we need," Lila shrugged.

"Damn right, and as much as I hate Dad, he's extremely intelligent. He took away our powers because they were the cause of apocalypse after apocalypse after apocalypse. This way we are safe and the world is safe. Majority wins and I'm taking this cause I don't trust you, little weasel." Victoria shoved her finger in Ben's face. "Now let's go home, and stop flossing in public, Klaus, fucking disgusting. You're not making me wanna have sex with you any more by being gross."

Tag List: @salvador-daley @seanfalco

[weeabooofficial]

Eren Yeager and his Immaculate Ability to be a Nuisance. -J.K. [18+]

Tags: smut, closet sex, cockblocking, Eren should be a warning on his own, dirty talk, language, modern au

Pairing: Jean Kirstein x Reader

Masterlist

Word Count: 2.3K

A/N: Hi, hello. I'm not fucking dead like y'all thought. 2023 threw me for a loop with my writing, and then I had every intention of posting this for my birthday, back in July (If that tells you how long I have had this sitting in my docs). And then I wanted to post this in celebration of the finale of AoT coming out...

and then I fucking hated how it ended and had a four hour long rant over it.

So here we are in 2024, and I am finally posting this. Big thanks to my bff (best fishy friend) @offendedfishnoises for helping me with this all those months ago.

divider by @cafekitsune

Eren Yeager must have thought he was a fucking genius, a comedic genius. Why else would he keep pulling the same bullshit over and over? 

It all started when you first met Jean, your friend was throwing a party at her apartment and you decided to go. The two of you met, and hit it off really well. So well in fact, that you and Jean were officially dating by the end of the month. 

Everyone seemed happy for you, everyone but one person. 

That person just so happened to be, Eren fucking Yeager. 

You and Eren had been friends for years, since you were children. It was only a matter of time before he took you getting into a relationship with the person he loved to annoy most, personally. To you, Eren took everything personally but that was just the way he seemed. 

Eren cared for you, he really did. Growing up together, as close as friends could be, he just wanted you to be taken care of. 

However, it wasn’t his fault that his favorite pastime was pissing Jean off to no end. 

You didn’t notice what he was doing at first, it being the occasional interruption while you were having a moment with your boyfriend, but it only escalated from there. 

It was Sasha’s annual Christmas Party, everyone in your friend group was invited and then some; to include you and Jean. The snow was falling, and the two of you were curled up together on the couch in front of the warm fire. 

Jean’s hand rested on your thigh, just wanting to keep you close. Your head was on his shoulder, inhaling his warm, musky scent that made your nerves tingle. 

You didn’t even get five minutes alone together before Eren came in with a plate filled with sweets and squeezed himself in between the two of you on the couch. 

This was fine, you told yourself. Eren was always like this, but that was before it got worse. 

By the end of the night, not only was Eren between you; but Armin, Mikasa, Sasha, Connie, Reiner, Annie, Berdtholdt, everyone you knew was squished between you and Jean, forcing you on opposite ends of the couch with the arms digging into your side as they chatted away. 

Jean shot you a look from the other side of the room, a sorrowful smile on his face. It wasn’t like you could actually do anything to stop all of them from sitting between you, but you knew exactly what they were doing. 

Eren was making it his life’s mission to make sure you and Jean didn’t have a moment alone together, and you didn’t realize how bad it would get until it was too late. 

No matter where you were, at work, the store, even at your apartment, every time you and Jean tried to do more than share a kiss, Eren was there butting his way in. 

Of course, Jean was angry and rightfully so. All he wanted to do was share a moment alone with you, and he was starting to get desperate. 

“Babe, this is getting fucking ridiculous. He is your friend. Stop him.” 

You stopped folding the shirt in your hands and gave Jean a look, “You’re friends with him too dumbass, besides what makes you think he will listen to me?” 

Putting the shirt he had in the stack, Jean shrugged. “I dunno, I thought you would maybe scare the shit out of him like you do everyone else.” 

“I do not–” 

“Connie and Sasha refused to talk to you for the first week you scared them so bad.” 

You gave Jean an unimpressed look. “That’s because I told them to stay out of my pantry, it’s not a free for all.” 

A grin found its way on Jean’s face. “But you’ll let me into your pantry,” Wrapping his arms around your waist, he waggled his eyebrows giving you that look. 

Before he got any further, you shoved his head away with your palm on his face. “Any chance you had getting laid tonight, ended with that comment.” 

Jean looked at you with a pout on his lips, “Aw come on babe, you know you can’t resist me.” 

“I can and will,” you hummed, continuing to fold the clothes. 

You loved Eren, you really did. Even when he was being a little shit, you cared for him like a brother.

But that love was dwindling, and it was dwindling fast. 

There was only so much you could take, between your job at the office and Jean’s at the family company, you almost never saw each other. That left no time to talk, not time together and no time for romance. 

And with Eren making his presence known every single fucking time you were close to doing anything, your patience was wearing thin. 

Jean was just as desperate as you were, so when you showed up one day with lunch wearing a tight little skirt and killer heels to match, Jean all but dragged you to the closest closet and locked the door. 

His lips were on yours in a matter of seconds as he bunched the bottom of your skirt towards your hips. 

Jean’s touch on your thighs was like fire, with weeks of denial igniting it within you. Prying your mouth open with his own, Jean slotted his hips between yours as he swallowed each little sound you made. 

“Fuck–” you gasped against his lips, feeling his cock grind against your heat through his pants. The rough material adding friction to the area which desperately needed attention. 

“Jean please–” you begged, hands gripping the back of his shirt pulling at the material as if it was personally offending you. 

With a hand still holding you against the wall, Jean made quick work of undoing the belt of his pants before popping the button and pulling the zipper. 

“Hold on baby, I’ll take care of you.” Shoving his pants down just enough, his cock sprung out of his pants slapping against the skin of your thigh. Jean moved the string of your thong aside and swiped his fingers through your folds. 

A gasp tore through you, your body jolting in his hold. 

“Fuck–” he choked, feeling your slick pool between your thighs. “This pussy is already so wet for me, you that desperate for my cock?” 

His breath fanned over your face as you ground your hips against his hands, pulling at the hairs on the nape of his neck as he thrusted two digits into your cunt. 

“Jean–Jean please!” you begged, looking up at him with those pleading eyes that had him so weak, he’d do whatever you wanted. 

Banging his fist against the wall, Jean couldn’t ignore the doe-eyed look you had. So sweet, so innocent, when he knew you were anything but in the privacy of your own home. 

Jean knew the way you looked when you were bent over, taking his cock round after round begging him for more; to fill you with his hot cum to the point it spilled out around his shaft. Jean knew the way you looked, when you were on your knees sucking his cock like it was your day job. The way your pretty lashes fluttered up at him as you made sinful movements with that devilish tongue of yours that had him bucking his hips making you gag around him. 

It was the same way you were looking at him, and he had barely touched you. 

Somewhere deep in the back of his mind, Jean thought of making you wait this long again if it got you looking like this for him once more. 

Using his hips, and other hand, Jean hoisted you higher up his hips before thrusting into you. The sounds you made made his head spin, fuck you sounded to pretty too. Biting his fist that was against the wall, Jean held in his moans as he watched you absolutely lose it finally being able to feel him this deeply within you. 

You paid no mind to the uncomfortable feeling of your skirt pressing against your stomach as you began to rock your hips, wordlessly trying to convince him to go deeper. 

“Fuck–, missed this pussy so bad.” his breath tingled against your ear, wracking your body in shudders as he continued to thrust his hips, stretching you to take his cock.

Your moans filled the closet, the soft grunts Jean made in your ear as he fucked you for the first time in what felt like forever. Hands grabbing at whatever you could reach, you pulled his lips down to yours, senses filled with the smell of his cologne and the taste of his morning coffee on his tongue as it bullied its way into your mouth, laying his claim on you. 

Jean’s hand moved from your waist, to the button up blouse you were wearing. “Wanna see these pretty tits baby–” he gasped between kisses. “Wanna hold them, play with them, squeeze them. You’d like that, yeah?” 

All you could manage was a nod as Jean ripped the buttons of your blouse open, a few popping off and landing on the floor. Neither of you cared, as he hastily pulled your bra down your shoulders and chest until he could grasp your tits in his hands. 

The sounds from the hall outside were drowned out by the blood pumping in your ears, not caring one bit who heard Jean fucking you senseless in a tiny closet. The two of you were so lost in the feeling of each other's bodies, you didn’t notice the lock get picked with the handle slowly turning before you were blinded by light coming in from the hall. 

Jean quickly used his body to cover yours, keeping your dignity intact not caring about his one bit. 

Over his shoulder, you saw the face of Eren Fucking Yeager and the slight smirk in his face when he realized what he caught the two of you doing. 

“I was wondering where–” 

“Get the fuck out Yeager,” Jean hissed, grateful that his arms were filled with you so he couldn’t turn around and knock his teeth in. 

“Oh come on, Jean. You don’t want to share?” 

That was your last straw. 

“Eren, get lost or I will rip your dick off and feed it to the dogs.” 

You watched the expression on his face morph from his usual cocky confidence, to a flicker of fear. It was a far-fetched threat, sure, but with the death glare you were giving him, Eren wasn’t sure if you were serious or not. 

And he didn’t want to find out. 

Clearing his throat, Eren suddenly looked away before shutting the closet. “Carry on,” before you heard it lock once again. 

Only taking a few seconds to recover, Jean readjusted his grip on you before looking down at you with a grin. 

“If I didn’t know any better, I’d think with the way your pussy tightened around my dick that you actually liked getting caught.” 

Immediately, your face got hot. Shaking your head, you opened your mouth to respond before it was cut off with Jean grabbing your jaw at an angle that kept your mouth open. 

“Don’t bother lying baby, I know you liked it.” 

Your eyes widened at the look on his face, squirming under his heated gaze. “No I–” 

“Maybe I should fuck you in my office next time,” he hummed. Within moments, Jean pulled out of you before flipping your body around and thrusting into you from behind. “Bend you over the desk, taking you like this for hours as everyone around us hears how well you take my cock, hm?” 

Bracing yourself on the wall, you couldn’t ignore the way your walls fluttered around his dick when he said those words. 

Jean chuckled, wrapping his arms around you pressing his hips into your ass as he fondled your tits. Enjoying the little gasp you let out feeling him tug on your nipples, you arched into his touch feeling a hand travel up your chest and throat before forcing two of his fingers in your mouth. 

“Maybe, I could have you suck me off with this pretty little tongue of yours.” Your mouth was forced open, his fingers pressing down on your tongue refusing to let your moans be softened. Jean wanted to hear every sound you made, as he speared you open on his dick. 

The moans you let out had Jean cursing, his hips stuttering as he got close to the edge. “You’d like that wouldn’t you? Sucking me off under my desk as you hump my foot, desperate for me to touch you?” 

You tried pleading with him, your orgasm so close now that you were incoherent. A couple more thrusts of his hips as you choking out his name as your orgasm washed over you in a violent wave of ecstasy, coating his dick in the creamy white substance. 

“Fuck, baby. Just a little more and I’ll fill you so full, it’ll drip down your legs.” 

The debauched moan you let out was drowned out by Jean’s grunts and growls as he kept pistoning his hips against yours, before he came with a loud cry, burying himself to the hilt making sure you took every drop of his seed. 

As the room quieted down, you heard his breaths in your ear as Jean pressed kisses to your shoulder. 

“You–,” he panted, “You are so fucking amazing baby.” 

You were at a loss for words, nothing on your mind but how good it felt to be filled by Jean. Tilting your face to look at him, Jean smiled down at you while his bangs hung in his face. “I love you so fucking much,” 

Smiling against his lips, you hummed in agreement. “I love you, too.”

Tag list: Because I must bully you all with my writng, suck it up and love me anyway. @pinksthetics @awalkingshame @hex-the-rabbit @meowzfordayz @nanaoise08squad@loafingdragon @narakussy

[harrowrat359]

Hello akimizu nation i am glad to announce i am Back on My Bullshit™ and i come with some info about the ice skating AU (god i hope it all makes sense 😭), fair warning tho everything i know about figure skating and hockey comes from a brief hyperfixation i had in primary school that lasted about a month and Kiss and Cry the netflix movie, also im scared of being cringe so this is all probably very lacking

Here are the full drawings by the way :))) and this

[wannab-urs]

The Spreadsheet Digest - Vol 17

Hello darlings!

It was another big week - 24 fics! I should really start sleeping at night instead of reading until 3 am.... oh well. Enjoy the fruits of my sleep disorder!

You can find the Spreadsheet in all it's organizational glory here and all of my previous recommendations here.

Recommendations below the pedro meme (created by @gasolinerainbowpuddles)

Ravish -a Joel series by @psychedelic-ink

I've read a few like... cam girl/chat service/sex work type AUs and I have to say this is one of my favorites. I really really love the little Dieter cameos. And a little birdie (the literal author) told me he may be making an appearance in a future installment??? I am so excited ugh. Joel is like... stunningly hot in this despite being the kind of guy that falls in love with a cam girl. Yummy yummy

Seven minutes in heaven (the bathroom) -a Frankie one shot by @tieronecrush

A fun twist on the bathroom quickie trope. Frankie is so filthy in this fic and it is fantastic. I really like the ending also. Made me giggle

A Savage Place - a Joel series by @gasolinerainbowpuddles

SUB JOEL MY BELOVED!!! This is one of those more realistic sub joels where he's confused as fuck about liking it, but he really clearly needs someone to take control for a little while. I really fucking love this so much. (there's pegging in part 2 @ my pegging enthusiasts <3 ) Reader is hot as hell, also. GOD I love this.

Whistle in the Dark - a Joel series by @gasolinerainbowpuddles

Romantic cucking <3 No but okay the like basic plot is that your husband is a piece of shit who cheats on you so you like forcibly cuck him with Joel and Joel has feelings and it's sooooo hot and so good and like... affirming? and sweet? And your husband deserves to have his dick cut off bc he does something real fucked up, but having to watch Joel Miller dick his wife down GOOD is a start.

He hurt me but it felt like true love - a Joel one shot by @iamasaddie

Mean sexy Joel is pissy cause he found your dildo and he's gonna make that your problem. It's so hot. Vaginal DP????? GOD DAMN. Someone said DP isn't depraved a while back (eyeroll). They should read this. This is beautifully depraved

Feral Woman - a Joel series by @gasolinerainbowpuddles

This series has me feeling so many emotions. Watching FW/reader/Julia/Bug heal over time and learn to trust again is so fucking good. Susan is the light of my motherfuckin life I love that woman with all my heart. This series is GORGEOUS

Endless Night - a Joel series by @gasolinerainbowpuddles

yes i basically worked my way through Puddles' masterlist can you fucking blame me look at this shit. Anyway. EnNi reader/OC is, on the surface, the sunshine to Joel's grump. But the thing I love about her is that she's got this underlying darkness that adds so much depth to the grumpy x sunshine trope. I'm also eating up the borderline enemies to lovers dynamic going on here. Joel is such a dick lmao. I'm so excited for the rest of this fic.

All the good girls go to hell - an Ezra one shot by @psychedelic-ink

DUBCON with PRIEST EZRA yesssssss. The Haunted Hoedown is the gift that keeps on giving. This fic is so fucking HOT. Ezra as a priest seems so wrong and so right at the same time. This is excellent. I'd gladly go to hell for this man UNF.

Three's a crowd - a Marcus P/Javi P one shot by @agentmarcuspike

Marcus motherfuckin cute ass baby Pike watches Javier Peña fuck you. Yeah. Cucking Marcus Pike. That's what this is. Marcus is also characterized perfectly. Like this is so fucking cute actually. And it's really hot. obviously.

Begging for you to take my hand - a Joel series by @jupiter-soups

This fic is driving me up the wall in the best way. Joel is a big dumb idiot man who is like... not emotionally intelligent enough to realize he's in the wrong while trying to do what he perceives to be the "right thing." Here's what I commented verbatim on part 2 "Joel 'You Deserve Better Than Me' Miller back on his bullshit. I love this so much. Joel is so sad and so stupid i kinda wanna hit him." So if you're like me and you like to watch Joel be a sad little idiot who is also super hot.... this is the one

Refuge - a Joel series by @cool-iguana

GAH THIS IS SO GOOD!!! This fic really situates you in reader's head. Like you feel disoriented and frustrated and scared when she does and you feel like a powerful badass when she does and it's SO good. Basically in this one your husband joel shows up with some kid who is def not your kid in Jackson after you've been there for a hot minute and it's a big wtf moment. There's some other shit going on that I don't wanna spoil but like... this is so good. I know I keep saying that but GOT DAMN

Exposed - a Javi P one shot by @atticrissfinch

big fat dub con warning on this one. I so rarely see Javi written as a creep and I really fucking enjoyed it. I would like to humbly request more creep!professor!javi p

The Apprentice - a Dave York one shot by @pedropascalsx

This has like mafia!au vibes while not really being that, but what I mean by that is that the big bad murder daddy who you thought you'd be scared of saves you from murder father (ur dad). I really liked the characterization of Dave in this and the smut was HOT

Stockings - a Joel one shot by @atticrissfinch

Daddy kink daddy kink daddy kink. This is inspired by a photo that literally looks like denim shirt joel is helping you put your stockings on. This fic manages to be adorable and aggressively hot at the same time. I am in love.

Slumber - a Joel one shot by @cool-iguana

I love a good somno fic. also this is literally their 2nd fic they ever wrote and it's so good?! TALENT. There was a thing in this that caught me off guard bc I fully did not read the warnings, but I was not at all mad about it... HOT

Yearling - a Joel series by @justagalwhowrites

Holy motherfuckin shit balls dude. I'm noticing that I'm reading a lot of Reader-Who-Is-Extremely-Traumatized fics this week and I refuse to examine why that is but also they all have handled the heavy content very very well. Anyway. Reader is super duper good with horses and Joel is so soft and Ellie is so Ellie and I love all of this. I really love the way Kit builds the world in her fics. Like the opening chapter and then the way Bambi's back story is built up and the spaces that she exists in, they're all so vivid and good and real to me. I'm so fucking in love with the way Kit includes these details like reader singing and playing music, joel's coat, the light on in the house when Bambi is gone. It feels like nothing is there just to be there, like it's all important and it has a significant impact on the story and man... (also if you're worried about starting a longfic that's not finished, it updates like twice a fuckin week. Fast writer lol).

The Cabin in the Woods- a Dave York one shot by @xdaddysprincessxx

Getting kidnapped by Dave York and held in his cabin in the woods. Dark dark dark fic and so fucking well written. Love this <3

Isn't She a Doll? - a Dave York one shot by @proxima-writes

You are Dave's perfect little housewife and that is definitely the only thing going on here. Nothing out of the ordinary at all. (just read it)

Who do you call? - a Joel one shot by @chloeangelic

Your hot neighbor Joel helps you get rid of a spider! How sweet of him. Oh and then he rails you on the couch. I really love the way they have a whole conversation while they're fucking about how long it's been since they've fucked anyone. Chloe just has this wonderful way of infusing humor into really really hot fics that I adore

Does your mother know? - a Joel one shot by @cupofjoel

Another bathroom quickie for the rec list and god DAMN this one is hot. Close Family Friend!Joel (god I love putting this man in situations). There's something about being forced to stay quiet that just makes everything hotter.

Cellmate's Nephew!Joel - a Joel series by @toxicanonymity

JoJo is actually the love of my life. His tattoos, his voice, his dick print.... sigh. Can't wait to get out prison so this man can rail me on every available surface between the prison and Mabel's house.

The Man That I Love - a Joel series by @lumoverheaven

Joel is an idiot who doesn't know what he has until he almost loses it. The first part is heartwrenching and sad and I love it. The second part is wonderful and makes me tear up a lil

I said I didn't feel nothing, baby, but I lied - a Veracruz one shot by @iamasaddie

Veracruz is so hot. I swear that man could punch me in the face and I'd suck his dick for it (that is not healthy oops). This lovely little drabble is literally just you getting your ass spanked so raw you won't be able to sit for a week and it's HOT AS HELL

Creep - a Joel one shot by @theywhowriteandknowthings

Joel Miller is your super hot creepy neighbor and he manages to get you to fuck him and that is definitely the only thing going on here. nothing fishy at all. nope. totally normal reader fucks her creepy neighbor fic. (just fucking trust me and read it ok?)

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

Happy Reading!

[thatfreshi]

A Post-party Interlude (Uni AU P. 19.5)

Hello everyone! Here is an interlude to catch up with our characters after the fated Halloween party, divided by hours of the night.

TW - mentions of self-harm, mentions of grooming, mentions of drug abuse, mentions of alcohol, extensive talk about sexual trauma in the 5AM section

-1 AM, the RU Rooftop, Gale and Shadowheart-

"You want a hit Gale?"

"No, not now."

...

"I'm sorry I dragged you out there like that. You can't just say that kind of stuff about people. Especially not about me."

"That's hardly fair, considering how you've been about Mystra."

"Two entirely different situations."

"Shadow, you're hurting yourself."

"So are you."

...

"I just don't get why you can't be happy for me."

"Because, she doesn't love you. Not like your friends do, not like your mother does, not like I do. I've been your best friend for how long Gale, how long? And you don't trust me on this?"

"But you clearly don't trust me either."

"It's different! Things at the church are very-"

"Very what? Private? Painful? You've been different ever since you stepped foot in that place, and I just stayed quiet. I just never thought it would go this far."

"It's a religious reminder Gale-"

"Bullshit, it's a way for her to control you all."

"And Mystra isn't controlling you?! How you're always on the phone with her at her beck and call? You're no better than me, so don't get on your high horse as if you can judge me. School is hard, studying medicine is hard, I need something."

...

"I can't watch you hurt yourself."

"Then don't. Maybe someone else will get it, but you don't have to. Go cry to your girlfriend about it."

-2AM, Lae, Shadow, and Tav's Dorm, Lae'zel-

(This conversation has been translated from Lae'zel's native language.)

"Yes?"

"You haven't called in a while. You're supposed to call."

"Yes, I know. I've been-"

"Training, right?"

"Of course, what else would I be doing?"

"Really? Because a little birdy told me you've been slacking. You think those 'injuries' are really that serious, don't you? You think you're allowed to make the K'liir family look like this?! We're warriors! You're, a warrior!"

"Of course. I will not disappoint Grandmother. I shall be healed soon."

"Perhaps it should be 'Vlaakith' to you for now, until you can earn the right to call me kin again, if you ever earn it again."

"Yes Vlaakith, I'll call you back soon."

-3AM, Karlach's Dorm, Karlach-

"I know Coach won't stop bothering me about it, but should I really do it? It's tricky I guess, seems more like she's threatening me than anything. Purposefully injuring people in my matches isn't enough for her I suppose. Steroids though? What even are the side effects of that?

...

Aggression, stomach pains, sleep problems... is that really so bad? I have those sometimes. Everyone has a good ol' bout of insomnia from time to time... right?

...

If I don't though, and she kicks me off the team... I can't get kicked off the team, I would lose all my funding, my friends, Shadow... I'm sure it'll be fine, right?

...

Where did she even find these? Are they safe? I mean, she wouldn't want to kill her best wrestler, right? This is to enhance my performance not, uh, de-hance it. So, I guess I just go for it? Maybe one to start, it's not like there directions on this thing right? Nope, thought so.

...

No turning back now I guess. Tell Coach, secure my place here, get to stay with my favorite people in the world... it'll all be perfect.

...

Right?"

-4AM, Wyll's Bedroom, Wyll-

"Deal Wyll Ravenguard, I'm Professor Mizora, although I'm sure you know me more as an administrator. I've seen your work around campus and would love to offer you the opportunity to do more good, especially since your father doesn't get many things moving around this school. Please reach out if you're interested, in haste if you can. I look forward to hearing from you. Best Regards, Professor Mizora.

...

Huh, odd. I've never heard of her before. You think my father would've mentioned her at some point. Then again, he doesn't talk much to me anymore, so I guess not. I cannot believe Astarion said that to me at the party. I mean, he wasn't wrong, but still, how impolite.

...

Maybe I need to hear it though. That perhaps what my father and I had... it's beyond repair. This Mizora character though, she seems to know about how he is now, and she clearly knows about me.

...

Dear Professor Mizora..."

-5AM, Astarion's Dorm, Tav and Astarion-

You wake up to pacing around the wooden floors, trying to turn in a bundle of blankets and sheets that have been strewn about. You sit up and try to wipe at your eyes, only crusted over from a few hours of sleep.

"Aster?"

Your voice comes out a little torn up from laughter and words shared hours prior. You certainly spoke for a long time, and not all of it you can remember. It is him pacing, as you could only assume in your half-asleep state.

"Hm? Oh, I didn't mean to wake you darling. You can go back to sleep."

"Are you alright?"

He pauses, stopping his eyes from darting around for your question.

"Why do you ask?"

"Because, if your pacing woke me up, then it's probably not just for fun."

"No dear, I was simply cleaning a little. I woke up, I figured I'd do something useful with the time."

"Don't start this out this way."

Your sentence comes out more strained that you would've liked, but it's true: you don't want to start things with him with secrets.

"You didn't lie to me before, don't lie to me now."

You pat his side of the bed, beckoning for him to come sit. He follows reluctantly.

"Well?"

"Well, what?"

You furrow your brow and pick up a nearby pillow, threatening to start a fluffy fight.

"You know what! C'mon, talk to me."

He sighs, and you put down your weapon.

"Fine, if you insist on being open and honest or whatever... I got a little more drunk at that party than I wanted to admit, especially after I told you I can handle my liquor and all-"

"Out with it Astarion."

"Hey, don't you full name me."

You try not to smile at his banter, but it feels nearly impossible.

"I'm serious, out with it."

He runs his hands through his hair.

"We didn't... we didn't do more than kiss, did we? Ugh, that sounds ridiculous, I sound ridiculous!"

He gets up to anxiously move around again, and you get up to go after him.

"Hey, hey, no, that's not ridiculous! That's not ridiculous at all."

Astarion turns to face you.

"Why do you think that's ridiculous?"

Your question sounds meek, sad.

"You know... I mean I've slept with plenty of people, and I don't really talk about it with you because I didn't want you to see me that way, but I know other people have probably told you, and I know what happened when we met and I-"

You lightly grab his hands.

"Hey, as if I'd listen to other people. The only facts I've ever taken about you, are from you, okay? And sure, I've heard things, but it doesn't matter. And no, we didn't do anything else, and I wouldn't have done anything without your clear consent to do so, I hope you know that."

You gently pull him to sit back down with you on the edge of the bed.

"It just... it wasn't really up to me before. It was a survival tactic, you know? For money, because Szarr told me to... And that night? I only did it because I was scared you'd go off and tell someone the wrong thing at the wrong time, that it would only end up worse for me, and so I did what I always do. I did what I've always been taught to do."

"And you didn't want to do that this time..."

He seems embarrassed, as if he's trying to close up away from you.

"I don't think I've ever really had a healthy relationship with that kind of thing? And I just got really- really scared that I did what I've always done, that I did something I wasn't ready for. That just feels so stupid though."

"Why? Why does not wanting to sleep with me have to be stupid and ridiculous?"

"Because! Because you could go hook up with anyone you want. Everyone at this age, we're all doing it all the time. I'd be the weird one, right? I'd be the weird one, and you'd run off to someone else who actually wants to do something with you and then I would've ruined this before we even started it."

You pause, trying to find words.

"And this is why I didn't want to say anything."

"But if you didn't say anything-"

"Yeah. Yeah, if I didn't say anything, I suppose..."

He starts to choke on the sadness a little, that overwhelming feeling he's been trying to keep bottled up for hours.

"Astarion, look at me."

He does, with a look in his eyes as if he's been punished.

"I would never want you to do something you don't want to do, ever."

"But-"

"Nope, there's nothing else. You just never have to do anything you don't want to, ever again, unless it's like homework, or I don't know... not murder someone? Starting now, your body is entirely yours again, as it always should have been. Okay?"

He wraps his arms around you.

"Okay."

A mumble into your tattered adventurer's shirt from the night before.

"To be very clear though, I still want to kiss you, often."

You laugh as he leaves a kiss on your cheek, still crying some, your face matching.

"Of course."

You go on to talk for a while that evening, about boundaries, about various little things, even about how apparently one time he dyed his hair in middle school. Somehow, you get him to show you a picture. It's one of those nights, or rather, mornings, you know? One of those mornings where you laugh a lot, and then go back to crying, and you share that one traumatic story you thought you'd never remember. He tells you a lot that evening, good and bad, and you share a lot of tears. They're good tears though, tears that mean something. That morning, the good and the bad, it all means something.

[giovanni-solos]

— Great Pretender

Day one: Coffee Shop AU

Atsushi Nakajima gets flirted with and has no idea he’s being flirted with. This guy (Dazai) seems funny though, maybe he could learn something about his detective work?

Read on Ao3 or simply continue reading here.

It’s an August morning when Atsushi sees the detectives come down to their cafe. Just floors above them a group of individuals with supernatural abilities worked, and from the office room multiple plans had been put into motion and saved lives during crises, he always wondered what they did up there other than the commission based worked the agents would be sent on.

Today originally would have been Atsushi’s day off, but now here he is. One of the men in the group comes over to him particularly, sitting at the counter silently with a smile on his face. Normally, this man was bothering the owner’s wife or one of the waitresses with his god awful pickup lines.

“Hello there.” His voice is graceful, an air of elegance to the way he speaks despite his disheveled look. Atsushi starts when he hears it and almost knocks over a container of coffee beans with his hand.

“Um, right, what would you like to order?” Atsushi asks him nervously. Talking to the customers was never his thing really.

And of course this guy immediately jumps the gun, letting out; “your number” with a grin. This has Atsushi taken aback, reeling in surprise and shock. Lucy who had coincidentally just left the break room dropped her jaw to the floor in a mixture of shock and confusion.

Atsushi tensed, completely unsure of how to react when Lucy completely dodged the question for him, putting down a glass of water infront of the man and giving him a glare. “My god, Don’t make me tell your coworker your harassing the guys now too!”

Atsushi stands stunned as Lucy spends a good five minutes bickering with the man tirelessly, some of his coworkers who had followed him apparently wanting nothing to do with his antics and ignored him.

“Atsushi, don’t listen to his bullshit.” Lucy tells him sternly, pointing her finger in his face “men- hell even women like that aren’t always going to stick around you know!” When she notices Atsushi scribbling done a string of numbers on a paper napkin. She sees his cheeks flushed a slight pink, and the determination on his face. “What the- hey! Listen to me first at least!”

Handing the napkin to the guy across the counter, Atsushi gives her a glance. “I’m listening”

“As if!” Lucy puts her hand down on the counter “you don’t know if he could be trouble or something! What if you end up in a ditch?!”

Followed by Atsushi shaking his head disapprovingly; “you shouldn’t judge someone like that, Lucy”

And Lucy shooting back, “well I am.”

And the man at the center of their conversation, still waiting at the other side of the counter and staring at the written down phone number, surprised someone actually gave him their number, seems to take more interest in this than he did before.

“So, mister…” Atsushi is about to ask, he doesn’t even know the man’s name yet.

“Dazai,” he quickly states “Osamu Dazai.”

“Right well, if you’re free I’d like to get to know you, I think getting out of my apartment for something other than work would be nice.” Atsushi continues to ramble on, ‘his name is Dazai. I’ve got to remember his name.’

Dazai gives him a knowing glance, like he’s been here before and passed these same steps a good few times. In an odd way this reassures Atsushi can’t help but feel like a whole chunk of his life is about to change. Dazai by chance had appeared before him and asked for his phone number, now suddenly he had something else to look forward to during the week.

[ineffabildaddy]

Tell me about the bs fic please!

hello!! sooo this one is a human au. i've been jokingly calling it my 'bullshit fic', despite the fact that 'bs' stands for 'barbershop' here, because i am very much on my bullshit

i am very very excited to say that @omens-for-ophelia will be illustrating this, and that the wheels are already turning👀 i’ve also picked up @foolishlovers as a beta which i feel very lucky about✨

summary

crowley is in his early 30s (he's transmasc and has chosen not to medically transition), aziraphale is in his early 50s (he's a bearded dilf basically). crowley temporarily becomes aziraphale's barber while his usual hairdresser, tracy, is away. aziraphale is dreadfully lonely, and crowley's touch and gentle manner of speaking to him encourage him to keep going back even after tracy returns. they begin to develop a friendship over a mutual interest in films, and they use film recommendations to communicate with each other about their feelings and experiences

eventually, they start fucking and promise not to get emotions involved, but i mean... it's possessive yet nurturing dom az and whining, sobbing, soaking wet crowley. there are feelings in abundance

here's a porny preview

Although Crowley rarely spoke in dreams, he felt himself crying out a mangled "fuck". To be taken like this, to be possessed like this, was a prospect so intoxicating that he had not previously allowed his mind to confront it. So why now?

Crowley's belly trembled under the pads of the figure's fingers as they rubbed his skin, soothing and gentle, as if to soften the blow of the words to come; words which would reverberate through the caved corners of Crowley's head for the rest of the day, and many days thereafter. The figure spoke again, and everything clicked into place.

"My darling boy," the figure whispered sweetly.

Before Crowley had the chance to speak the name which belonged to the figure, he awoke.

Aziraphale.

[forestmossling]

hi, hello, i’m back on my @keycarabiner bullshit again!

this is just so sweet. a little bit corny, maybe, but what good doomed romances aren’t, just a little bit? i love vigilante/superhero aus, i love the caretaking trope, i love all of it and this truly was an amazing example of those things.

despite how routinely and ordinarily for steddie the scene is portrayed, it just encapsulates their relationship in this particular universe so well. i found myself, just, overwhelmed by sadness, or grief, or whichever other unnamable emotion every time i let myself think too deeply about the truth of their relationship, about its likely inevitable tragical ending, about all the things steve and eddie yearn for but don’t let themselves have, trapped in the nature of the situation they find themselves in.

very sad, but also somewhat desperately hopeful, despite being doomed. i really loved that this story was open-ended, not really developing past the point that is natural to the steddie in this au, just staying as it always is, just another day of them desperately wanting each other and keeping themselves away. very sweet and gentle. i really loved the flower-gifting scene, because it’s just so so beautiful and fragile.

sorry, i’m rambling because this fic got me all kinds of emotional. despite the premise being somewhat overdone, i guarantee you won’t regret giving this a chance. 7452858658920/10, am recommending.