#her earrings were supposed to be pencils but they were a little too small to add the real details

[ybbag777]

Pretty, preppy Blossom

[nishimuramp4]

untitled #2

synopsis: you're the one responsible for riki's ostracization in school. but after you catch your boyfriend cheating, it's him you use for comfort.

content warnings: dubcon veering towards noncon, public sex, humiliation

wc: 3.5k!

it wasn’t like you had hated him from the start. on the contrary, when riki had walked into homeroom in october, a month after the school year had started, you had actually found him attractive enough. he was tall, with pouty lips, a scowl that you would soon learn was permanent, and dark hair that fell into his eyes. his eyes, which you couldn’t stand. their gaze was disconcerting; they held a quiet sort of power, a hidden well of dominance. it made your skin crawl. 

you had watched him from the back of the classroom. the tables in your classroom were clustered into tables of six. you and your friends always took the back of any room, so you could get away with sneaking a hit of the ubiquitous vape that got passed around. riki, after mumbling his name to you all with his head bowed, had shuffled to one of the empty seats at the front. 

“new kid’s not bad,” yiyeon had said. she twirled a mechanical pencil between her fingers, her eyes running over the back of his head. 

“he needs to get his ass on the basketball team,” sungho had said, garnering a few chuckles from the others. your boyfriend, heeseung, didn’t say a word. he was sitting beside you. he, too, was staring at the new kid. unlike yiyeon, his curiosity stemmed from a source you recognized well. insecurity. a transfer student with handsome features, height that rivaled heeseung, a low, rumbly voice, and the faint beginnings of self-assurance. 

you had snapped into action quickly. “he’s all right,” you had said, glancing at heeseung for approval. he was still unmoving, eyebrows creased in annoyance. unwilling to let things continue, you had scoured your desk. finding a small white eraser, you waited until the teacher had their back turned to the class before throwing it at riki’s head. he rubbed the spot, reached down, picked up the eraser, examined it. it had bothered you that he didn’t immediately turn around to see who it was. 

finally, riki slowly looked behind him, one hand still on his head. you gave him a sarcastic smile and a little wave, which finally made heeseung laugh. “careful,” heeseung had said, ruffling your hair, “he’ll get a crush on you.”

“please,” you said, emphasizing the pronunciation of your words so riki could read your lips. “incel over there wishes.”

sungho slapped the table, fighting off a laugh. “he does look like an incel,” he had said, gesturing at riki. “school shooter-looking ass.” riki had been wearing a large black hoodie over a pair of camo pants that day. you remembered it well. 

“school shooter,” lee, a girl you vaguely suspected was trying to steal your man, said with an overly effusive laugh. “he really does, though.”

heeseung had grinned at you as though you had made the joke, and you beamed at him. riki had turned back around, head hunched and shoulders bent. 

you hadn’t intended on bullying him, necessarily. things just happened that way. he happened to have the locker near yours, so you would tell him to eat shit and threaten to slam his face into the metal. he happened to share the same gym class as your boyfriend, so you’d break into his locker and cut holes into his uniform. apparently he was broke, like a lot of the students here were, so he had to walk around wearing tattered clothes. how were you supposed to know? 

the incel comments weren’t your fault, either. you had made the first move, but riki perpetuated it by always wearing baggy clothes, lumbering down the hallway with his headphones over his pierced ears, by mumbling when he spoke. 

once, you had tossed your milk container on the contents of his locker. you had had a shitty day, and your friends were all busy that lunch break, so you had been wandering the halls aimlessly. now you got to see riki’s hands lock up, his mouth gaping as he stared at his soiled belongings. 

“it’ll reek,” you had said, crunching the carton in your hands and tossing it inside his locker. it landed on his wet school binders. “you’re used to smelling like shit, so this should be nothing to you.”

riki’s lip had trembled, but not out of fear. no, this was the indignance of a child that had been spanked, knowing that an injustice had been dealt but lacking the strength to do a thing about it. “why do you do this?” it was rare for riki to speak, so hearing his gravelly voice surprised you. you masked it with an easygoing shrug. 

“why not?” you had replied breezily. 

“why me?” his voice had a cloying, pleading tone that warmed you to your bones. it pleased you so much, you nearly reached out to pinch his cheek. then he looked at you, and his eyes frightened you. there was that steely resilience again, that iciness underneath a countenance best described as “simpering.” it disturbed you, enough that you took an imperceptive step back. 

“because,” you had said. “i just don’t like you.”

riki had looked up to the ceiling, biting his lip, before looking down at you again. “you don’t even know me.”

“don’t need to,” you had said, wiping a drop of milk that had landed on your sleeve. 

students streamed by the two of you, ignoring the spectacle. for the better. you hated an audience. it was heeseung who liked to have all eyes on him, who liked to command attention, assert himself. you were comfortable being his girlfriend, lavishing in the privilege of getting to blend in. people were like nails: if they stuck out, they needed to be hammered into submission. 

“you’ll get yours,” riki had said softly, crouching down to examine his binders. the surety with which he said the words disturbed you, so you slammed the locker beside his, just to see him flinch. 

“you keep believing that,” you had said. “you keep believing that bad things happen to bad people. childish dumb-fuck.”

“they do,” riki said, and you resisted the overwhelming desire to wrench some of his hair into your hands, twist it, make him scream, make him cry. you couldn’t make a scene. heeseung would hear about it, anyways. 

instead, you crouched to riki’s level. “then you must be a bad person,” you had said. “bad things just keep happening to you, huh?” 

there was a small droplet of milk resting on his lip, stray spray from the carton you had thrown. he had noticed you staring at his mouth and wiped it off himself. “like i said, you don’t know anything about me.”

“ooh,” you had said, mockingly raising your hands in the air. “look out. tough guy riki.” riki stood up, having finished his assessment of his binder, and you realized just how tall he was. you quickly scrambled to your feet. “see you around.” with a final bang on his locker, you had left, the memory of his stare lingering in your head. 

of course, you loved bothering him. there was something satisfying about seeing a guy so tall, so broad, flinching when you threw something at him. when you walked by him, you reveled in the way he would avert his gaze, awaiting the next cruel taunt. it didn’t help that you were constantly flanked by your friend group, including heeseung. besides being tall, heeseung had long since developed a reputation at the school. the best parties were at his place, he organized the bonfires in the woods at the school, he had an older brother who could get his friends weed. being his girlfriend awarded you with social capital you wouldn’t have on your own.

which is why you almost fell apart when you walked into the parking lot after school and saw heeseung sucking face with lee against his car, a beat-up honda civic. a part of you wanted to confront him, but you knew that a public confrontation would turn into a private fight, and possibly a breakup. you didn’t know if you wanted to break up with him. the three of you had all had academic obligations which required you to stay later after school, so the plan was to finish up, have heeseung drive you to his place, pre-game, then go to a party at sungho’s. you had finished up a little earlier, so you had wanted to surprise heeseung. instead, you watched as your boyfriend of six months and a girl who had previously referred to you as her friend made out with each other in broad daylight.

spinning on your heel, you stormed into the school’s building, searching for a place to cry. you had to recollect yourself, find a way to regain control of yourself. the bathrooms were no good: at any given time, there was a cluster of girls in them smoking or vaping or passing around a plastic bottle of vodka. a teacher might come into an empty classroom, and the last thing you needed was to bare your soul to someone who loathed you as much as you did them. 

finally, you decided on the computer lab on the second floor. it was still open at this time, and it was very rarely occupied by other people. it was hardly a lab, a collection of 12 computer monitors organized into two rows, back to back, in a classroom tucked into a corner of the school. 

you spotted a mop of straight hair. riki.  of course he would try to hide out where no one could find him. he was drawing, using something on a computer screen as a reference. riki wasn’t the best in academics, and the ostracization from others had prevented him from ever getting involved in sports, but you could begrudgingly admit that he was a good artist. he was supposed to receive some stupid school award for it. 

the tears that had been threatening to spill mere moments before dissipated as you closed and locked the door behind you. riki looked up at the sound. you loved the way he cringed, tried to make himself seem smaller, shrinking himself in his chair. 

striding over towards him, you snatched up his sketchbook and flipped through it. unfortunately, there was nothing you could say about his art, so you would have to lie. “looks shit,” you said. maybe you could rip a few pieces out. instead, you put the book down on the table and scrutinized riki. he was looking at you warily, his sharp eyes analyzing your every move. 

“they’re not shit,” he said. 

“you wouldn’t know. you have bad taste in just about everything.”

riki must have been feeling pretty confident from that little award, because he met your gaze and said, “so do you.”

you walked closer to riki, who was sitting in the blue plastic chair. he straightened out his posture, hands clasped together. first heeseung, now riki was getting cocky on you? “and what makes you say that?”

“your boyfriend is pretty ugly,” he said, and his eyes widened like he couldn’t believe himself. 

your blood boiled. the disrespect towards your boyfriend, the reminder that he was hardly your boyfriend right now, the fact that riki thought he could say that to you. you grabbed his hair and yanked his face towards yours, relishing in his sudden fear. if he had maintained his new persona, you would have done something drastic. 

“you think you’re better than heeseung?” you hissed, jerking his head again. he yelped quietly. “answer. you think you’re better than heeseung?”

riki’s eyes were squeezed shut. all the better for it. “yeah,” he mumbled. “i do.”

still clutching his hair, you reached under your skirt and tugged your underwear. riki stared at your panties, jaw slack and eyes hazed over. you slipped them off and shoved them into your hoodie’s pocket. then you swung your leg up, resting your foot on the desk. “prove it. prove how much better you are.”

riki had this stupid look on his face. “what?”

you didn’t have the patience for it. you brought his face towards your pussy. “eat me out,” you said, “or i swear to god i’ll get heeseung and the others to jump your scrawny ass.”

riki tried to pull his head away, but you yanked at his scalp, eliciting another cry from him. “i don’t know how,” he said.

“first time seeing pussy? you really are an incel,” you said. the hand that wasn’t in riki’s hair rubbed at your clitoris. “you see this? you just have to lick this. it’s not rocket science.”

haltingly, riki’s pink tongue poked out before he retracted it and looked at you. “i’m not…i don’t…”

twisting his hair, you said, “do it or heeseung will fuck you up. that’s a promise.”

with a little whimper, riki kitten-licked your clit. it had been a while since heeseung had properly eaten you out, citing a lack of interest, so you were responding more to riki than you cared to admit. you couldn’t let riki catch wind of any pleasure you were deriving from this, so you clamped your mouth shut. still, every inexperienced lick caused frissons to dance through your body.

riki tentatively reached out to hold your hips in place, and you flinched as you felt his large hands on you. you thought about pulling his finger back so he would let go of you, but he licked your clit in just the right way and the thought escaped you. you bucked your hips into his mouth. “faster,” you ordered. 

he sped up, lapping at your clit. riki’s grip on your hips settled, and you bit back a moan. then riki pulled his head away from you, and you sputtered. “the fuck are you doing?” 

“am i doing it right?” absent-mindedly, he wiped some of your arousal off of his face with his sleeve. then he looked at the wet streak and frowned. 

you groaned in frustration and shoved his face towards your pussy again. “shut up.” 

riki returned to licking at your clit, experimenting this time. he flicked his tongue against the small nub, something you hadn’t even known you liked. “you watch a lot of porn?” he didn’t answer, thankfully, so you continued pressing your cunt into his face. “i bet you do. gross coomer, holed up in your fucking room.”

his tongue was wide and agile, and you almost hated yourself for how quickly your orgasm was approaching. you gritted your teeth and fixed your eyes on the top of riki’s head. if you looked away, you were admitting defeat. 

when you came, it was a full-body orgasm. waves of pleasure trickling from the center of your body down to your very fingertips.  “how does my pussy taste?” you taunted, blinking slowly so that the stars flooding your vision wouldn’t overtake you. it had been good, too good. you lifted your leg off of the table and straightened up, even though all you wanted to do was take a nap. 

riki’s face was coated in your arousal, and you found that the sheen complimented his pretty, plump lips well. “find out,” he said. he made a rough noise at the back of his throat, stood up, and spat in your face. 

you spluttered, wiping your face and smearing any liquids on his clothes. “are you fucking crazy?”

riki shrugged, rubbing your juices off of his face with his sleeve again. “maybe.” 

“i’ll kill you,” you said, stepping away from him. “i’ll fucking kill you.”

to your evergrowing annoyance, riki’s gaze was as imperceptible and cold as always.

you didn’t kill him. instead, you stewed about the incident for a week straight. heeseung was acting sheepish around you now, burying his head into your neck and giving you soft, warm little kisses. lee didn’t make eye contact with you, talking to you with such sycophantic fervor that even you felt embarrassed. annoying. if they were going to cheat, then do it wholeheartedly. 

you didn’t bother riki for the entire week, and you could tell it was starting to bother him. you would catch him glancing at you curiously before whipping his head away when he saw you pick up on his staring. freak probably got a crush on you after you made him eat you out. or maybe he thought you really would have heeseung jump him. it only served to benefit you. you had a surprise to give him at the assembly, and you wanted to catch him off-guard. 

the assembly was held in the school gym during homeroom. the students crammed in the bleachers, talking amongst themselves. normally, you would have skipped along with your friends, but you told them that you had to be there. you had given them your pissed-off face, so they had dropped the issue. 

while you filed out of the classroom with the rest of the students, you trailed behind riki. seemed like he was really proud of himself, between the accolade he was about to get and his act of defiance yesterday. when you entered the gym, you sidled next to him. he looked at you uneasily. 

“let’s sit together,” you said. it sounded innocent enough, but you knew that riki would understand the threat behind your words. his head whipped around the gymnasium, and without an escape plan, he sighed. 

“fine,” he said. “where?”

“back row,” you said, nodding your head at the far corner of the bleachers. you all but shoved him towards that spot, settling down beside him so that he was caged between the sides of the bleachers and you.

for the first fifteen minutes of the assembly, you hardly moved a muscle. the principal was talking about school announcements, a topic so banal your eyes would have glazed over had you not had revenge on your mind. creeping your fingers towards riki’s thigh, you ghosted your hand over his crotch. he flinched, whispering, “what are you doing?”

“shut the fuck up,” you replied. “don’t make any noise.” you mimed a knife being dragged over your throat, and riki swallowed. 

with that, you started rubbing him over his baggy blue jeans. he tried to fold his legs, preventing you from touching him, but you pinched and pulled at his inner thigh until he spread his legs again. he was big, bigger than you thought, and you didn’t bother hiding the fact that you were ogling his bulge. it made you smile, knowing that no one else had touched him like this. his very first handjob, and it would be sloppy, messy, and very public. 

riki squirmed under your grasp. “please stop,” he whispered. you looked up into his face and saw that, for once, that sharp, cold gaze of his had been replaced by desperation. instead, you pressed your hand down harder, drawing your touch out to an agonizing degree. riki let out a shaky, pained moan. “stop,” he pleaded, one hand gripping his thigh. his knuckles were turning white.

“fine,” you said, lifting your hand off of him. “i stopped.” you crossed your legs and smoothed your skirt down, smiling at him. 

shuddering, riki leaned his head against the back of the bleachers and closed his eyes, panting heavily. to your delight, he actually canted his hips into the air, ever-so-slightly, at the lack of touch. 

“you want more, don’t you?” you asked. 

“no,” he whispered, “no, no, i don’t…” but his lips were twitching, and his bulge was so prominent it was almost obscene. he was a complete virgin, would probably cum in a minute if you kept going. his foot bounced against the bottom of the bleachers. 

“are you sure?” you dragged your knuckles over his clothed cock and riki squeaked. 

“i hate you,” he said, tears welling up in his eyes. “i fucking hate you.”

“aw, you’re using big boy words,” you cooed, running your hand over his crotch again. riki grunted and looked away from you, his teeth gritted. briefly, you glanced around the auditorium, making sure that no one was looking at the two of you. thankfully, everyone was either focused on the announcements, looking at their phones, or whispering to each other. you softly kneaded riki’s bulge, and he let out a shaky little sob. his foot stopped bouncing, and his breathing quickened. you stroked his entire length, noting that he might feel good after all. if heeseung ever pissed you off, maybe you could have fun with riki.

his cock twitched under your hand, signaling his imminent release. riki covered his mouth with his hoodie’s sleeve, eyes scrunched shut as he finally came. you could have crowed with laughter, seeing the way the front of his jeans dampened. today, riki had opted to wear a hoodie that cut off at his hips, meaning that there was no way to hide the offensive stain. 

riki’s name was called for him to receive his award, and you did let out a small giggle as you watched him hastily unzip his hoodie and wrap it around his waist in a feeble attempt to hide the cumstain. there he went, plodding down the stairs. 

you had won, for now.

[enwoso]

Could you maybe write something for lia wälti? Maybe her and reader are babysitting a friends toddler, just some domesticity and lia swooning at r interacting with the kid

CAN’T WAIT - lia wälti

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"me want to help!" poppy smiled sweetly giving you those cute little eyes that made it so hard for you to say no to. "okay, you can have your own special job!" you smiled as you picked her up and sat her on the counter top, a small little cheer coming from the four year old as you tried to think of something you could give her to do to keep her little brain occupied for some time.

“look, so first we snap the end off then you’ll can open and put the peas in here” you demonstrated to poppy how to do the pea pods and she nodded as you showed her, a little smile appearing on her face as she managed to open a pod by herself.

“good job!” you smiled, holding you hand up for the little girl to high five. your girlfriend watching on as her heart warmed watching you interact with the young girl, her mind wandering for a moment about what life would be like when the two of you had your own little family, leaving her wondering if you had thought about it too.

poppy was your older brothers daughter, a confident little girl who was not scared to say or do anything. which sometimes would get the little girl in some trouble but it would always make for great stories when she was older.

you and lia had offered to look after poppy after your brother was left stuck after your mum had gotten her dates mixed up and could no longer look after poppy while your brother and his wife went for some spa retreat for their anniversary.

and if you were being honest part of you was glad your mum had gotten her date mixed up as it had meant you could spend some quality time with your niece.

you had picked the little girl up from school, surprising her as she came out the classroom running into both yours and lia's arms while talking at a hundred miles per hour at how excited she was to see the both of you.

chatting both yours and your girlfriends ears off the whole car ride back to yours and lia’s home, telling you every detail of her day from what she had for breakfast to what colour pencil she coloured her drawing in with at school.

now she was ‘helping’ make dinner and by that she was just ordering you and lia around. “can you help?” she asked as she held up a pea pod for you to open for her, you had given her the job of opening a few of them but realistically she was just getting you or lia to open them for her so she could eat the peas out of them.

“don’t forget to put the peas in here poppy!” you reminded her pointing to the blue little tub you had given poppy minutes earlier, “i won’t!” poppy sung out, as you handed her the pea pod back, and within seconds she was slotting two peas in her mouth and putting one in the little blue tub.

“think it’s a bit late for that love!” lia whispered nudging you to look inside the bowl, where there was three little peas in there as you looked to the swiss and mumbled an ‘ah’

“poppy! your not supposed to be eating them!” lia said as she caught the little girl putting another one of the peas in her mouth instead on in her little blue tub.

“me not wally, there’s some in my tub!”

“i guess we aren’t having peas tonight..” you whispered in lia’s ear as you rested your head on shoulder, while reaching to get some of the other ingredients for dinner that were on lia’s side of the kitchen, pressing a quick kiss behind her ear.

“she too cute to be mad at, so i guess it’s okay!” your girlfriend quietly said at the two of you watched for a moment as poppy used her teeth this time to bite the end of the pod, putting all three peas in her mouth, the two of you quickly laughing at the little girls antics.

“me don’t like broccoli” poppy said as she watched you pick that up first out of the ingredients you had moved to your side of the kitchen counter, as she pulled a disgusted face as she watched you chop a little bit of the stork of the broccoli.

“don’t worry kiddo, we’ll keep the greens to a minimum for you!” lia smiled, knowing that you would put them in the dinner but cut them up really fine making the chances of the little girl even noticing them very slim.

“my daddy says they look like tiny trees he doesn’t like them either” poppy said making your girlfriend giggle at the comment as you smiled shaking your head, that was what your brother used to tell you mum when she would ask him to eat his broccoli.

“well he’s not wrong”

now that dinner was out the way, you had decided on a film to watch. curtesy of poppy's choice it was settled you were watching luca. which you knew she had only picked for one reason.

“can we please skip to the silenzio bruno part?” poppy asked looking up at both you and lia as she was tucked up in between the two of you in her princess pyjamas.

“pops, we gotta watch it from the start!” lia smiled moving the loose hairs out from the front of her face as poppy mumbled a fine.

lia looked over and smiled over at you, as you moved a little closer to lia resting your head on her shoulder as she played with your hair. your breathing slowing out as you felt your body begin to relax.

by the time the film actually got to the part poppy wanted it at she had fallen asleep, soft snores coming from the four year olds lips. “i’ll go and take her up” you said as lia nodded as she kissed your cheek before you moved.

lifting poppy up carefully along with her little stuffed toy that she had took attached to her all evening, and carefully retreating to the spare bedroom where you had set up made the bed for poppy - putting two pillows at either side to make sure she didn’t fall out of the bed during the night.

tucking the little girl in with her teddy and blanket before kissing the top of her head and leaving the little night light on that your brother said she slept with on when she was at home before moving towards the door as closing it a little bit.

quickly going back down the stairs to where lia was, and walking into the living room to see that the swiss had not moved a muscle as she scrolled through her phone that was in her hand.

crashing on top of the swiss with a big sigh as she groaned, luckily being able to move her phone out the way quick enough to avoid it hitting her in the face.

“who would have thought looking after a four year old would be so tiring” you mumbled into her chest as your eyes felt heavy with tiredness.

“basically a full time job, baby” lia whispered as she giggled a little as you felt the vibrations of lia’s laugh from her chest.

you sat up, straddling lia as her hands found your waist, travelling a little up the back of your hoodie tracing small circles in your lower back. “i can’t wait until that us with our own little baby” lia said, at your eyes widened and lia began to back peddle. “no- no that- i” her face full of worry, scared that she had said the wrong thing.

you cut lia off by kissing her, smiling into the kiss as you hands went to the back of her neck. the kiss was pure and full of love and reassurance, pulling away after a few minutes, pecking her lips a few more times before lingering close to lia’s face smiling big as her face was now relaxed.

“i can’t wait to start a family with you either”

[keikikait]

ᴄᴀʀᴏᴜꜱᴇʟ (ʀᴀꜰᴇ ᴄᴀᴍᴇʀᴏɴ x ꜰ!ʀᴇᴀᴅᴇʀ)

this is part two. for part one, click here!

pairing: rafe cameron x f!reader, (not au, both are early to mid 20s)

word count: 5.4k

summary: you owe rafe that date, not that you really mind

warnings: enemies to lovers (pogue!reader x rafe), slightly jealous rafe, flirty rafe, sexual(?) tension, sugardaddy!rafe makes an appearance, rafe & reader argue

a note: this was supposed to be short.

please reblog and like, it means a lot! let me know what you think!

*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ*:･ﾟ✧

You never hated your wardrobe more in your life. 

You tore through your closet trying to find something to wear, since Rafe told you to ‘dress to impress’. You couldn’t find much; your high school graduation dress that definitely didn’t fit right anymore, the miniskirt you wore to The Underworld, and an old pencil skirt you wore to a failed interview. You searched through your mother’s closet, too, but she was in the same boat as you. Her husband owned a bait shop, why would she have a fancy dress?

After anxiously checking your bank account, you decide to head onto the north side of Kildare to the only thrift shore in the Outer Banks. You spend hours searching, trying to decide between a dress and the classic skirt and tank top combo. You manage to find a cute blank tank top, tight enough to be flattering but not tight enough to be uncomfortable, choosing to wear the mini skirt you already had. The cashier takes your money, shoving the tank top into a branded paper bag, tossing your receipt in on top. You thank her and smile before heading out.

The evening sun hangs low in the sky after your hours-long shopping trip, although the solo bag in your hand didn’t feel like it was worth it. It was already quarter to six. You felt guilty as you made your way through the small street of stores and shops, having told John B and JJ that you were still feeling the effects of your hangover, and you were unable to hang out with them at The Chateau that night. They didn’t ask any questions, but you could feel their suspicion. You were normally always available to hang out. You had promised Rafe not to tell them, so you didn’t.

You barely slept the day before, spending the whole night thinking about him, scrolling through his Instagram and just admiring him. He pissed you off, he somehow managed to smash every single one of your buttons, yet you couldn’t get Rafe Cameron out of your head. Even when you propped yourself up on your pillows and slid a hand in between your thighs, Rafe was on your mind.

After arriving home, you get ready as quick as you can, touching up the makeup you already had on and getting dressed. You look yourself over in the mirror, fiddling with the hem of your skirt. You pull it a little lower on your hips, trying to cover your ass as much as possible. You put on a pair of sneakers before grabbing your keys and heading outside. The sun had begun to set over the horizon, a beautiful orange colour taking up the sky, and the moon rising. The air was warm and humid, and you could feel the damp sweat on your skin, making your tank top stick to your body. The walk to your father’s shop was never that long, but you felt like you were taking forever, your mind racing as you hurried along the path.

Rafe isn’t here yet, you don’t see his dirt bike or his truck. You lean against the wall, hoping that this wasn’t a big joke, a little prank Rafe and his friends were playing just to humiliate you. You stand waiting, a feeling of dread starting to bubble in your stomach. You knew Rafe was usually late, always making you wait for him, but you still felt anxious as the minutes ticked by. The sun was nearly gone, but there was no sign of Rafe. You could feel your breath coming out shaky, the dread turning into disappointment. Rafe’s words rang in your ears. 

’I’ll pick you up here.’

No way he would miss the opportunity to tease you, right?

You shield your eyes as bright headlights suddenly appear, a truck turning the corner and heading down the small path towards the shop. You let out a sigh, your shoulders rolling with relief. The truck pulled up in front of the shop, its headlights still on. Rafe’s face is illuminated in the orange light, a smug smirk spread across his lips. He watches through the closed window as your shoulders visibly relax, and he almost laughs. You looked so cute, so nervous and expecting to be stood up, like something out of a chick flick.

He turns the car off and gets out, holding the door open. Your stomach clenches when you see him. He’s so frustratingly gorgeous; wearing a dark green short-sleeved button up shirt with no undershirt underneath and a pair of beige 5" inch inseam shorts, exposing the muscles of his upper thighs. You look away, pursing your lips together slightly. You hated Rafe with every fibre of your being, but you had to admit that he was one of the few men on Kildare who could pull off a buzz cut.

He smirks, leaning against his truck as his eyes roam over your body. He noticed how you looked away, averting your gaze before you could let your eyes linger too long. “See something you like, sweetheart?” he teased, pushing himself up from his truck and walking towards you.

“Don’t flatter yourself,” You mumble, wrapping your arms over your stomach. “Are you ready to go?”

Rafe snickers at your response, his eyes flickering down to your covered stomach before returning to your face, a smirk still on his lips. “Yeah, let’s go. But wait,” he says, pausing before you could turn to leave. “I told you to dress to impress.”

You sigh, your head rolling slightly to the right. “This is all I could afford, Rafe. I couldn’t find anything else.”

“That doesn’t impress me,” he says, his eyes narrowing as he looks you up and down. “You look like a high schooler, no better than any other Pogue girl on this side of the Island.”

“Well, what do you want me to do?” You ask, dropping your arms to your side. “Go into debt to buy a dress? Steal it?”

Rafe’s smirk widens. “Or,” he leans forward slightly. “You could be a good girl and let me pick something else out for you. What do you think, sweetheart?”

Your stomach clenches again. You chew on the inside of your cheek, not liking the way that Rafe’s words were affecting you. “What’s the catch? I told you yesterday that I wasn’t going to sleep with you.”

He chuckles softly, leaning back from you. “I already told you there’s no catch.” He reaches a hand out to gently brush a strand of hair out of your face, his touch lingering as he brushes a thumb along your jawline. “You just have to wear whatever I want you to wear,” he whispers.

Your breath hitches, your heart starting to pound. Rafe had never been this touchy before, usually crying out when you got too close with your ‘Pogue germs’. It honestly takes you a few seconds to get your bearings and remember to respond. “W-what?”

“It’s a simple request, really,” he says, his fingers tracing a line along your jaw before moving his hand back down to his side. “You agree to wear something I want you to wear; something more appropriate than this little outfit,” he motions to your skirt. “And in return, I still keep my mouth shut about all your little shenanigans last night.”

Was this a trap? A scheme? A prank? 

You swallow hard before finally replying, “Okay.”

“Excellent,” he says, his smirk growing into a proud smile. It was cute to him, how easy it was to get you to agree to his schemes. His eyes sparkled with amusement as he looked you up and down one more time, taking in your appearance. “Come on,” he says, tilting his head to motion towards his waiting truck, “Let’s get out of here. I have the perfect place in mind.”

You shakily climb into the truck, settling into the seat. You buckle your seatbelt and look around the front of his truck. It was surprisingly clean, a half empty water bottle in one of the cupholders and a bottle of hand sanitiser in the other. A surfboard shaped air freshener hangs from his rearview mirror, along with a Polaroid of him and his youngest sister Wheezie. A bright red scrunchie is wrapped around his gearshift, almost as if someone was marking their property. Him.

You hadn’t heard of Rafe having a girlfriend. Maybe one of his hookups left it.

Rafe gets into the car, shifting around in his seat before glancing over at you. He buckles himself up, his eyes flicking from your skirt, up your body, and stopping at your face. “You look nervous, sweetheart,” he says as he starts the truck back up. “You never been on a date before or something? I know you didn’t date anyone at Kook Academy, but have you been single all this time?”

“Fuck off.” You say, crossing your arms over your stomach.

Rafe laughs at your response, shaking his head. “I never thought you’d be so sensitive about something like that,” he teases. The truck’s engine rumbles to life, the headlights coming on and blinding the dark of the night. He glances over at you one more before putting the truck in drive, slowly pulling away from the bait shop.

“I’ve been on a date before,” You say. “A few, actually. Not that it’s any of your business.”

“A few?” he repeats, glancing over at you again. “You don’t sound so sure about that. Must have been some forgettable dates, if you can’t remember exactly how many you’ve been on.”

You’re already regretting this. “Four dates. Again, none of your business.”

Rafe bites back a snort, raising his eyebrows as they lift with amusement. “Four dates. With Pogues, I assume?” he asks.

“Yeah, who else?” You ask, looking over at him. God, he looks so pretty in the sunlight.

“And how did those dates go?” he asks, making a left turn. He glances over at you before returning his gaze to the road.

“They went fine,” You say. “They were just dates, Rafe. I’m sure you go on them all the time.”

“They went fine?” he asks in a mocking tone, rolling his eyes. “Is that all you can say about them? Just fine? That’s what you get for going out with Pogue losers.” He glances over at you again, studying your expression before returning his attention to the road. “I’ve never been on any date that was just fine.”

Why is he telling you this? “Good for you.” You shift in the seat, looking out the window as you approach the bridge that leads to the mainland.

“I’m just saying. You’ve clearly been dating losers, like Maybank and John B,” Rafe says, feeling jealousy build up in his veins. He didn’t like the idea of you dating any of the Pogues, especially if your date was either JJ or John B. “Maybe if you didn’t spend your time with those asshole Pogues you would have fun.”

“Well, those asshole Pogues are my friends,” You say. “And I really don’t understand what JJ and John B have to do with this.”

Rafe sighs, deciding an argument isn’t worth it. He glances at you as you shift in your seat again, his eyes catching on the way your skirt pulls up with the movement, revealing the smooth skin of your thigh. Images of him biting your thigh flashed through his mind, and he cleared his throat, forcing himself to look away. His grip tightens on the wheel as he focuses on the road. “We’ll be there soon,” he says, his tone slightly stiff.

You nod, glancing over at him momentarily. He chews on his lip as he focuses on the road, shifting in his seat. His thighs spread out on the leather, and your heart leaps into your throat. You tear your eyes away before looking back out the window.

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You and Rafe drive in comfortable silence through the mainland. You haven’t been to the mainland since your high school graduation, and it seems like everything has changed. “So, what store are we going to?”

Rafe glances at you, his eyes flickering from the road to your face. “Why would I tell you and ruin the surprise?” he asks, a smirk on his lips. “Have some patience, sweetheart.”

You sigh, rolling your eyes. One second you were having a decent time, the next second he was opening his mouth. “Fine. Whatever. I trust you.”

He snickers as you respond, shaking his head. “Just relax. Let me treat you nicely, alright?”

“Alright,” You say. “I’m relaxed now.”

Rafe smirks at your response, shifting in his seat again. “Good,” he says. “Just a few more minutes, and you’ll be wondering why you ever doubted me.” 

You look back over at him, watching him as he drives. His fingers tap against the steering wheel, his rings shining in the sun. Your eyes travel down his face to his chest, admiring the way his collarbone sits prominently under his button up, his chain resting against his sun kissed skin. His arms flex slightly with every turn he makes, his rough, calloused hands gripping the steering wheel. You glance back down at the scrunchie, wondering who it belongs to. An ex, perhaps? A hookup? A girlfriend you don’t know about?

After a few minutes, Rafe makes another left turn, pulling into a large parking lot connected to a small, expensive-looking strip of shops. The parking lot was mostly vacant, so he pulled into a free space near a few other cars. He puts the truck in park and kills the engine, glancing over at you. He watches as you take in the surrounding area before looking back at him, a small smirk on his lips. “We’re here,” he says, his face lighting up with a sly smile. “And I can promise you this is going to be a lot more impressive than the last date you went on.”

You get out of the car, clutching your purse as you walk beside him, heading down the sidewalk.

Rafe walks beside you, his hand brushing against yours as you walk. He glances over at you as the sun hits your face, highlighting the different shades in your eyes, the warmth of it casting a nice glow on your skin. He shakes his head slightly before looking away again, trying to keep himself focused. Rafe stops for a moment outside of one of the stores, glancing over at you. “This is the place,” he says, nodding to a store nearby that had high class looking dresses through the windows.

Your eyebrows furrow as you look between him and the mannequins. “Rafe, I don’t know if I can afford this.”

Rafe rolls his eyes at your response, grabbing your hand and pulling you towards the store. “You’re being ridiculous,” he says. “Don’t even think about how much they cost, or what you can afford or whatever. I’m picking the dress and paying for it, remember?” He takes a step towards the door and holds it open for you. “Now, come on. I think I see something I like already.”

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Rafe truly plays dress up with you.

You follow him around the store, your hands itching to reach out for his again. After handing you dresses upon dresses, he sends you off to the changing room to model. He sits in one of the armchairs, spreading his legs wide, and your eyes glance at his thighs whenever you push the curtain aside. Rafe is picky, and he sends you back in to change almost every time.

You’ve tried on at least twelve dresses at this point, growing tired. You pick up the next one, carefully taking it off of the hanger before slipping it over your head, pulling it down. You smooth out the front before turning around to check yourself out. It’s a midi length milkmaid dress that hits you in the middle of your calf, a white linen with small yellow flowers embroidered all over it, with ruffled straps going across your shoulders and a drawstring on the bust. There’s a slit on the left side, running up to the top of your thigh.

You like it. But will he?

You draw the drawstring tighter, pushing your boobs together before stepping out from behind the curtain.  

Rafe glances up from his phone as you step out from the changing room, a smirk immediately growing across his face. He slips his phone into his pocket before letting his gaze roam over you, his jaw visibly tensing when he looks over your thighs. “Turn around for me, sweetheart,” he says, his voice low.

You turn around slowly, looking over your shoulder at him. “You like?”

Rafe eyes you up as you turn, the view from behind just as good as the view from the front. He bites back a groan, his eyes travelling up your back. “I like a lot,” he says, his voice still husky. He glances up, meeting your gaze as he stands from the armchair. “Come here.”

Confused, you step closer.

Rafe reaches out when you do, one hand grabbing your waist and pulling you forward until you're pressed against him. His other hand lifts, gently touching the material of the skirt. “I like the flowers,” he says, his voice barely above a whisper. His thumb brushes along the material, feeling how smooth it was, before his hand moves up your side, his touch leaving goosebumps in its wake.

“Y-Yeah, me too.” You stammer.

Rafe glances up at your face, watching your reaction before glancing back down. His hand slowly moves across your side, his thumb brushing along your ribs, stopping just underneath your breast. “I like the colour, too. It’s pretty.”

Your breathing is shaky. His hands feel so rough and warm against your skin. “Is this the one?”

Rafe smirks slightly at your reaction, his fingers tracing an agonisingly slow shape on your rib cage, his nails slightly scratching. “This is the one. You okay with it?”

You nod. You’re more than okay with this dress.

He smirks at your nod, his eyes flickering up to you again. “Good,” he says softly, his voice still as deep as ever. “Then it’s yours.” His hand moves along your hip, resting against your belly as he turns his attention to the tag. “It’s only $210.”

What? Panic streaks across your face. “Rafe, are you sure it isn’t too much?”

Rafe laughs at your reaction, his smirk widening. “It’s fine, sweetheart. I wouldn’t offer to buy it if I couldn’t afford it,” You start to fuss over the price and Rafe rolls his eyes, reaching up and ripping the tag off of the dress. “Well, would you look at that, I have to pay for it now.”

“Rafe!” You whine.

“Don’t worry about it,” Rafe says. “I got it, $210 is nothing to me. Bring your clothes up, and I’ll get a bag for them, you can just keep the dress on.”

“Rafe--” You go to protest, but he’s already walking up to the counter, tag in hand. You give up, heading back into the dressing room to grab your other clothes. You head up to the counter, sliding your clothes into the empty shopping bag as Rafe swipes his card. 

Rafe tucks his card back into the wallet before taking the bag, crumpling up the receipt with his other hand and shoving it into his pockets. “Come on,” he says. “Let’s go.” You follow him out of the shop, heading back to his truck. The truck beeps as it unlocks, and he opens the door, setting the bag down in the floorboards under your seat. He shuts the door and locks it before joining you, walking down the street, expecting you to follow him. 

You catch up with him, fidgeting with your hands. “Thanks, Rafe. For the dress.”

Rafe glances at you as he walks. “Don’t mention it,” he says, his voice almost gentle. “It’s good to treat a girl sometimes.”

You blush a little, pushing your hair out of your face. “So, where to now?”

“Patience,” he says, smirking again. “It’s a surprise.” He leads you down the street, your hands brushing together as you walk. You stop at a crosswalk, and you go to press the button when Rafe stops you. You look at him confused as he looks down the street both ways before grabbing your hand, running across the street. You barely process the fact that you’re holding hands by the time you make it safely across the street. He doesn’t let go at first, even after making it across the street, but he finally lets go, running his hand over his buzzed head. A warmth spreads through your belly, but you push it aside. You wouldn’t ever admit to liking to feel his hand in yours. Not in a million years.

Rafe lets go of your hand once you make it to the other side, shoving both of his hands into his pockets. There’s the smallest hint of a smirk on his lips when he glances at you, like he’s thinking of something but trying to keep himself contained. “Come on, got somethin’ to show you.” You walk down the street before finally seeing what he had planned next, an amusement park on the pier.

You’re excited. Really excited. You haven’t been to an amusement park in years, and you can’t hide your smile as you drag Rafe towards the entrance. “Hey, slow the hell down,” Rafe says, laughing as you drag him towards the amusement park. The smile on his face is genuine, you being excited makes him feel happy for some unknown reason. He begrudgingly lets go of your hand as you make it to the entrance, walking in step with you now, his hands still shoved in his pockets. He pays for your tickets, much to your dismay, before leading you through the gates. The park is pretty crowded, couples and families milling around. “Which one first?”

“Uh, the carousel,” You say. “Duh.”

Rafe snickers at your response, shaking his head. “Of course you would pick the most boring one first,” he says, his tone almost fond. He turns towards it, taking a step forward, but he stops when he realises you aren’t following him anymore. He glances back at you, raising an eyebrow. “Come on, sweetheart. Let’s go.”

“It’s not boring.” You say, defending the ride.

“It’s a carousel,” he says, rolling his eyes. “It goes in a circle. How’s that not boring?”

You huff. “You’ll see,” you grab his hand, tugging him behind you as you head to the carousel. Rafe chuckles as you take the lead, allowing you to drag him along despite his protests. He keeps his hands stuffed in his pockets the whole way, the feeling of your fingers wrapped around his sending sparks dancing across his skin, a sensation he doesn’t not like. You wait in a short line before climbing onto the carousel. You sit down on a baby pink horse, pulling your dress up to sit comfortably. Rafe stands next to you, holding onto the bar. “Are you gonna sit down?”

Rafe watches you adjust, his eyes lingering on your dress as it hikes up your thighs. He looks at the animals, a smirk slowly spreading wide across his face as he realises how childish they are. “Hell no,” he says. “I’m not getting on one of these kiddie rides--”

The carousel suddenly lurches, sending Rafe stumbling backwards. You burst out laughing, reaching down to extend a hand, speaking between laughs. “Are you okay?”

Rafe glances up at you as he grabs your hand, hauling himself up with a scowl on his face. “Fuck you,” he says, scowling as he stands next to you again. “You did that on purpose, didn’t you?”

“I didn’t do anything,” You say between laughs. “I think that was karma for calling the ride boring.” 

Rafe watched as you laughed, his expression softening. There was something about you, something about the way your eyes crinkled when you laughed, something about the way your hair was shining in the carousel light. His chest tightens, his fingers flexing slightly. The ride starts to turn, moving at a slow pace. The horse you’re sitting on moves up and down.

You notice Rafe’s continued gaze. “Why are you staring at me?”

It takes him a moment to respond, his eyes not leaving yours for another second before they flicker away, his gaze still soft. “What, staring at a pretty girl is a crime now?”

Your head tilts, your heart fluttering. You smile softly. “Pretty?”

“Yeah,” Rafe murmurs. “Real pretty.”

You blush, looking down. “Thanks.”

The light from the carousel is shining down upon you, the pink of your horse glowing with the movement of the ride. Rafe’s attention moves to your bare thighs, the material of your dress riding up with the movement of the horse, exposing more of your skin. His jaw clenches slightly before he drags his gaze away, forcing his eyes to return to your face. His fingers flex, wanting to reach out and touch you, but he holds back. “No problem.”

The carousel comes to a stop, and you stand up, stepping off of the platform.

Rafe stands as well, shoving his hands into his pockets as he follows you closely. He glances down at your legs again as you climb down, taking note of how the skirt hugs your ass while you walk. He looks at your face again before he speaks. “What’s next?”

“Up to you.” You say. Rafe takes a look around the pier, licking his bottom lip. 

Your phone vibrates in your purse, and you unzip it, pulling your phone out. He looks back at you, his eyebrows furrowing. “Who’s calling you?”

“JJ,” You sigh. “Been texting me all evening.”

Rafe scoffs as soon you mention JJ, rolling his eyes. “Why is he blowing up your phone anyway?”

“Because I’m here with you instead of being with him and John B.” You say.

“Thought I told you not to tell them we were together.” he says, his voice getting quiet.

“I didn’t,” You say. “I told them I was busy, but I didn’t give any specifics.”

“So why is he blowing up your phone?” Rafe asks, his hands still in his pockets. He looks annoyed, his chest slightly puffed out.

“I don’t know.” You say, declining JJ’s call.

“Are you and him like…” Rafe pauses, not really wanting to ask, scared of your answer. “Dating, or something?”

“No,” You say, putting your phone back into your purse. “He’s my friend.”

“Your friend that you fuck.” Rafe says bluntly.

Was he really doing this? “Yes, my friend that I fuck, Rafe,” You say. “My friend that I let cum in my mouth. Why do you even care?”

Rafe’s expression hardens, the muscle in his jaw ticking as he clenches his teeth. He looks irritated, upset even. He shakes his head, letting out a humorless chuckle. “Never mind.” He looks around the park for a moment, searching for the nearest ride. “Come on, let’s get on something less childish than a carousel.”

“No,” You grab his hand. “We’re not done talking.”

“Not done talking about what?” he asks, his voice still irritated. “About your little ‘friend’, the one who blows up your phone like you’re his girlfriend?”

“Why do you care if JJ and I fuck or not?” You ask, keeping a grip on his hand.

“I don’t care if you two fuck,” he lies, his jaw still clenched. “That’s not what I’m pissed about.”

“Then what are you pissed about?” You ask.

“I’m pissed because you’re still hanging around a bunch of loser Pogues while you should be here with me.” He answers, his eyes meeting yours, his jaw still set hard.

“I am here with you.” You say, your tone softening.

“Yeah, right now you are,” he mutters. “I doubt this is gonna last. Not if you keep wasting your time with those guys, at least.”

“What do you mean?” You ask.

Rafe looks away, running a hand over the nape of his neck. “You’re always hanging out with them,” he says. “You’re never with me, I never get to hang out with you. But somehow you’re always available for them.”

“Rafe, it’s not like we’re exactly friends.” You say, letting go of his hand. 

“Why not?” he asks, his eyes meeting your face again. “We could be if you wanted to. No one’s stopping you from hanging out with me just as much as you hang out with them.”

“Don’t you hate me?” You ask. “You bullied me and chased me out of Kildare Academy, remember? My dad spent all that money to get me accepted, but I had to go to Kildare County High with the rest of them after that, and my parents never let me live it down. I’m a Pogue, Rafe, so I’m like 90% sure you hate me.”

Rafe goes silent for a moment, his expression softening as he considers your words. “That was years ago,” he says, his tone softening as well. “Things were different then. I was younger, stupid, I was an idiot.”

“And you’re suddenly different now?” You ask.

“Yeah, I’m different now.” He answers. His voice is soft, a tone you haven’t heard that often, if at all, coming from Rafe. “I grew up. Started to see things differently.”

“Congrats on finally discovering empathy years after everyone else did,” You sigh, looking away for a second before looking back at him. “I can’t forget the way you treated me, Rafe.”

“Yeah, that’s fair,” Rafe mutters, his eyes flickering across your face, taking in your expression. “Look, I know a lot happened when we were in school, but I was a dumbass then, okay? What I did to you was messed up, I know that. But I’m different now. Haven’t you been…” He looks like a kicked puppy, worried. “Haven’t you been having a nice time tonight?”

You nod slightly, your voice soft. “Yeah, I’ve been having a nice time, Rafe.”

He lets out a soft breath of relief at your nod, his chest loosening. He glances down at where he’s shoved his hands in his pockets again, avoiding your eyes. “Good,” he murmurs. “I just… I don’t want you to think I’m the same person I was back then.” He looks back up at you, his eyes meeting yours. “I’m not.” He lets out a soft scoff. “I swear. I’m…better now, I guess.”

You sigh, stepping closer to him. “Do you really wanna be friends?”

Rafe’s heart skips a beat as you take a step closer to him, the proximity making his breath catch in his chest. He nods, swallowing a lump in his throat. He wasn’t expecting to pour his heart out to you that night, even the idea of spilling to you was nerve-wracking for him. “Yeah,” he murmurs. “Yeah, I do.”

“Just friends?” You ask quietly. “Nothing…nothing more?”

Rafe’s heart nearly beats out of his chest at your question. He looks down at you, considering his answer, his eyes flickering across your face as he thinks. Would friends really describe the way he felt about you? The thought of you just being a friend doesn’t sit well in his stomach, doesn’t feel right. He reaches up, carefully tucking a strand of hair behind your ear. “Not just friends,” he whispers.

You step closer, your chests nearly touching. “I wanna be more than just friends, too.”

Rafe’s breath catches in his throat as you step closer to him, the feeling of the air crackling between you and him driving him crazy. He swallows, nodding slightly, his fingers slowly moving down your neck, thumb brushing against your pulse. “Good,” he murmurs. “Because I really, really wanna kiss you right now, sweet girl.”

“Oh, god, please do.” You breathe out.

Rafe can’t help the shiver that runs down his spine at your soft voice whispering those words, that pleading tone that drives him crazy. He doesn’t hesitate to act, his thumb pressing against your pulse as he pulls you closer. His other hand rests on your hip, sliding around to the small of your back as he leans down and presses his lips against yours finally, his heart beating faster than it ever has before.

He has you in the palm of his hand.

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★taglist: @ietss, @momoewn, @blairsblg (italics means i couldn’t tag you!)

[macsimagines]

Yandere!Mikey w/ a S/O that had his child

ASKBOX IS OPEN

(So for this set of headcanons its for a Mikey thats been consumed by his dark impulses and has probably lost everyone... ALSO PLEASE tell me what you think? I work better when I'm given notes so any complaints or compliments ill take!)

(D/N) - Daughters Name (Y/N) - Your Name

You were supposed to be a one night stand. He wasn't even going to give you the time of day. You were some secretary or pencil pusher and he was making deals (harassing) your boss.

But you catch his eye, and your boss has you entertain him to make things go smoother.

Thankfully, you two hit it off. Mikey can be charming despite his horrible reputation and you've got such beautiful kind eyes...

One thing leads to another and one unforgettable night you two have sex.

Mikey doesn't call you or contact you after that, and you can take the hint that it didn't mean anything more than just a way to relieve stress.

That would be all fine and dandy if it weren't for the fact that you were puking your guts out and happened to be pregnant.

You can't depend on Mikey, you don't think he'll accept your child and you really don't want them involved in the underworld that Mikey controls.

So you move out of Tokyo to distant family in a different town. You get a job, have your wonderful child and live peacefully in a small town.

Four years down the road, you end up back in Tokyo with your daughter. You owed a friend a favor and you're not too worried.

Your Daughter might be Mikey's clone but Tokyo is a big city and he's a busy man. He must have had countless women before he's not going to recognize your face out of a million others. Plus its been years. You should be safe right?

Wrong. You wake up one morning and (D/N) is gone. You're frantic searching for her, so confused where she could have gone from your friends apartment when it hits you: The Park!

Sprinting over there you're met with a sight you never thought you'd see. Mikey holding your fidgeting daughter in his arms.

If not for the terrifying look in his eyes the scene is almost comical.

The two of them together look like a before and after picture because of how similar they are.

"Y/N, you wanna explain this?" he asks you, and you're more shocked he remembered your name than anything else.

You try to pull it together, you don't want to cause a scene in front of your daughter.

"Th-that's my daughter. She ran off this morning and I've been looking for her."

He tilts his head to the side while he looks you up and down, placing your little girl on his hip.

"Don't you mean our daughter?" there's something dark in his voice and down right malevolent in his eyes.

Panic rises in your chest and you look down at the ground. "I just...I wanted her to be safe. I-I didn't think you'd care."

Your sweet Daughter whimpers for you, not understanding who this strange man is or why he's making her mommy so upset.

"You thought I wouldn't acknowledge my own child? Am I that kind of man to you?"

Silence stretches between you before you finally get the courage to say; "How did you even find us?"

Mikey just stares and holds your girl close before answering; "I heard you were in town. I came looking for you, and found her. Guess this is fate."

What you didn't know was that Mikey did want you, he wanted you so bad it almost drove him crazy. He tried to keep his distance and ignore you, and just when he can't take it anymore he finds out you moved away?

That's fine. It wasn't meant to be. But he had eyes and ears out for you if you ever came back to him. If you willingly walked back into the lions den that must mean you want him to have you.

He hears your back, with a daughter, and that's not a problem. If you have a husband he'll make sure you don't anymore and he doesn't mind a brat, you'll give him some of his own and that will make up for it.

So he goes looking for you, and he's almost to the apartments he knows you're staying at when a little girl catches his eyes. For a second he thought he hallucinated a mirror, but no staring up at him is his own face.

In his heart he knows who this girl is. And he's mystified when she starts talking to him.

"How come the sun's so bright?" she asks him for whatever insane reason.

And the empty abyss in his chest is suddenly full of love and affection. She's perfect. He had a perfect daughter now. Mikey embraces and tells her as much. That she's wonderful and beautiful and so loved.

Then you come sprinting towards them and Mikey suddenly remembers you kept her from him.

Back to the present, he thinks if this had been anyone else he would have killed them. But its you. And thankfully you raised the perfect child and gave him a healthy daughter, so he can't be too mad. He'll take it out on some underlings that left out very important details...

"I'll take responsibility," he tell you grabbing you by the wrist and pulling you so you're face to face, "And you will too, Y/N. We're gonna raise a very happy family. And you're going to give me a very big one. Lots of kids." one for every person he's ever lost.

[wooataes]

in case of emergency - ljh

Pairing: Lee Jihoon x Fem!Reader

Word Count: 1.8k

Warnings: angst, slight comfort, one swear

Summary: an emergency backpack makes Jihoon’s day a little brighter.

A/N: this is a story I’ve had in my docs for nearly 4 years so I repurposed it into a Jihoon oneshot to get rid of my writers block lmao enjoy!

- Tae 🩷🌸✨

Masterlist

“Jihoon-ah?” An unknown voice filled Jihoon’s ears as he held the phone to his ear.

“Hyung,” his soft voice croaked.

“You’re calling fairly early. It’s not even 2pm yet. How was your date?”

Jihoon was holding a single rose in his hand, taking long strides towards the train station with a defeated look on his face as he let his legs take him to where he needed to go. To say he was disappointed was an understatement. No, he was crushed, if he was completely honest. But he wouldn’t let Seungcheol know that.

Said date was supposed to start at 12pm sharp. He didn’t know what he did wrong to make her stand him up. He did everything correct, he believed. She had given him her number, he was never disrespectful in their texts, and he was a complete gentleman to her. Her texts from the night before lead him to believe she was eager to see him again too. After a simple suggestion by her for a coffee date to get to know each other, Jihoon was disappointed as he sat and waited in the booth for over an hour before deciding to give up with slumped shoulders and a bruised ego. To top it all off, Jihoon had to get caught in a fucking heavy downpour of rain without and umbrella as he made his next move.

What a fucking day.

“I’ll be there in a few hours. I’ll text you.” Jihoon sighed quietly as he placed his phone back into his pocket, stepping onto the train, oblivious to the state that he’s in.

With a frown, he paced past each cart, frown only deepening when he sees almost every one full. Of course it’s his luck that on the one stormy day that he gets rejected and drenched with rain, he’d end up on the full train with standing room left.

Finally, with a grateful sigh, he sees the last cart has only one occupant, chewing his lip as he stepped inside, opening the door a fraction to see you alone.

Your head stays down, long curls curtailing your face from Jihoon, not noticing his presence as your pencil moves carelessly along your sheet of paper.

“Excuse me,” his voice is soft and timid as he steps into the cart. “May I?” He gestures to the empty double seat across from you. “Everywhere else is full.”

Jihoon is shocked as your head lifts, adjusting your glasses as a small gasp falls from your pink lips. It was only then Jihoon realized his appearance. His grey T-shirt was now sticking to him, leather jacket just as tight as his drenched hair flops hazardously over his eyes. He almost flinches as you jump up quickly, discarding your fluffy wool sweater and taking a hold of his wrists, gently placing him down in your seat and sitting your coat on his knee. Wordlessly, he watches as you grab a small pink backpack from the ground, opening it up and pulling out a soft while towel and passing it to him with a sweet smile as he just stares in confusion.

“You’re the first person I can use my emergency backpack on, congratulations.” You smiled softly as he just stares. “Umbrella, spare towels, bandages, even a packed lunch, everything you could think of in an emergency.”

Jihoon was in awe. You were the first person today who had lent a kind hand to him, and he could feel the overwhelming emotions bubble in his chest.

“Please, put that sweater on,” you insisted quietly. “You’ll catch pneumonia otherwise.”

“Oh god, I’m in your seat…” Jihoon stuttered quietly as he began to rise.

“It’s directly under the heating. You need to dry.” You waved your hand dismissively, a grin washing over your features. “Please, use whatever you need.” You placed the backpack by his feet, Jimin chewing on his lip.

Come on, Jihoon, he thought to himself as he slipped the jacket off his shoulders, only to be filled with the warmth of your sweater seconds later, you can’t let your emotions get the best of you. Especially in front of a cute girl. He was shocked at his own thoughts, having been rejected mere minutes ago by another girl.

Jihoon softly started to pat down his damp hair with the towel, giving you a small but grateful smile in the process. You simply smile back, curling up on the seats opposite him and fiddling with the pencil in your hand. Jihoon couldn’t help but take in your appearance as you distracted yourself with your book. Thick rimmed glasses framed your round face perfectly, your light eyes scanning over your book. Your long hair, now having curled from the rain, sat against your shoulders as your foot bounced to an unknown beat, a soft hum complimenting the silence through your lips quietly. You were now only wearing a plain white shirt with a black skirt with pastel pink hearts adorning the fabric, complimenting your whole look with your pastel pink converse. Jihoon felt his cheeks flush when he noticed the small rose tattooed ever so delicately against the crook of where your inner arm meets your elbow, feeling himself shift in his seat as he looks at the drenched and wilted rose on the empty seat beside him, only reminding him of his shitty day he had experienced.

“Hmm.. fate?” Your voice breaks the silence as Jihoon’s dark eyes met yours in confusion. You gestured to the rose beside him and the one embedded in your arm, a small smile forming on your lips. “The rose. Maybe it’s fate we met.” You joked with a soft giggle as he gave you a quiet smile. “Sorry,” You whispered after a beat. “You seem like you’ve had a rough day..” you trailed off.

“Oh, no,” Jihoon interrupted quickly, neatly folding the towel and placing it on the seat beside him. “It’s actually helping, joking around.” He smiled a bit brighter now. “Thank you, again.. for the,” he gestured to the backpack, “emergency things.” He let the warmth of your sweater take over him, finally settling into his seat. “It’s nice to see someone worried about others. It’s refreshing.”

“That’s what I aim for!” Your bright grin lights up the whole room, Jihoon’s soul included as he can’t help but chuckle to himself. People like you were hard to come by, he thought to himself. Not many girls are so sweet and caring to others. You seemed the type to be so trusting and welcoming to others. “You don’t mind if I hum, do you? I tend to sing or hum while I work..” your cheeks start to turn a soft shade of pink. “I can stay quiet if you’d like to be alone with your thoughts.”

“No,” Jihoon smiled as he let his head rest on the window. “That’s fine, I think it’d make me feel a bit better, if you don’t mind, of course.” He chuckled at your relieved smile adorning your face, nodding softly as you turned to a fresh page of your book, your eyes sharp as you began to work.

“So, what brings you on this serendipitous ride to Busan, good sir?” You hum, not lifting your head as you scribble on your page. “Sorry, I should’ve asked for your name.”

“Jihoon.” He responds quietly, letting the warmth run through his body as it heats him up. “Ah.. decided to travel back home and see a friend of mine who lives there.”

“That’s always exciting, though.” You smile. “It’s always good to catch up with friends.”

Jihoon sighs for a moment. You’re so optimistic. He wishes he was feeling as optimistic as you were after his failed date.

“Yeah, that is true.” He agrees, his eyes fluttering shut. He feels a little guilty, letting sleep take over him so quickly. He feels like he should make more conversation with the kind stranger, but you don’t seem to mind, going back to humming and drawing as he falls into a dreamless sleep.

When Jihoon stirs and opens his eyes, he’s surprised to hear the voice of the conductor over the speaker announce that they have pulled into Busan Station. He quickly begins to rise from his seat before frowning in confusion.

There’s a heavy weight against him. He looks down to see a small blanket draped on him, probably from the emergency backpack you had given him. At the thought of you, he turns to look at the now empty seat across from him where you once sat.

He is a bit disappointed, he wanted to at least know your name to thank you for your small act of kindness. He frowns as he sees a single folded piece of paper and a now dried out rose sitting on top. Jihoon reaches out to take the rose, recognizing it as the rose he had on him as he boarded the train. He turns it over in his fingers for a moment before unfolding the piece of paper. His eyes widen as he sees a roughly scribbled sketch of himself leaning against the window of the train, watching the scenery go by. It is near perfect, in his opinion, and he is in awe by your skill. Looking down in the bottom right hand corner, Jihoon sees a small note.

Jihoon,

I hope your day gets better. Keep the backpack, please.

Sorry if this was insanely creepy. :)

Y/N.

He raises his eyebrows at your neat handwriting, his fingertips tracing over your name quietly with a little smile before quickly stuffing the blanket and your sweater into the backpack still by his feet to get off the train at the sounding of the last calls resounding over the speaker.

“Hey.” Seungcheol smiled as he spots his friend making his way towards him. “How was the trip?”

“Ah, was fine.” Jihoon hums, holding the small pink backpack over his shoulder as his friend’s eyebrows furrowed in confusion.

“Why did you bring a pink bag with you?”

“Oh.” He laughs, awkwardly tucking his hair behind his ear. “��S a long story.”

“Ohhhkay.” Seungcheol looks confused but shrugs when he sees the contentment on Jihoon’s face.

“Are we ready to go?”

“Almost.” Seungcheol keeps looking around at the countless people walking around the meeting area. “My cousin is here somewhere too. We gotta pick her up and take her back to mine. Is that alright?”

“Sure.” He agrees quickly. “I technically hijacked your weekend anyway.”

“Oppa!” A happy voice calls out as Seungcheol chuckles, opening out his arms as he readies himself.

“Hey, you!” He calls, laughing as he scoops his cousin into his arms, Jihoon staring with wide eyes.

“Jihoon-ah,” Seungcheol grins as he places his cousin on the ground. “This is-”

“Y/N.”

Permanent Taglist

@misshale21 @etaerealboy @kawennote09 @im-gemmy @devinkelsey19 @woozieeeee @loveless-lie @lixiel0ver @keymins @nen-nyy @lisaaaaamanobannn @i-dont-give-a-fok @miriamxsworld @jovialpartyneckoaf @jojowantstocry @roe-sinning @sarahisupset

Jihoon Taglist

@breakfastburritosattiffanys @mar-627 @milopenne @lanatheawesome @sunnynapp @jaeminsbuckethat @iarayara @opheliaas-stuff @hotricewoozi @beardedartgamingbakery

[kallie-den]

Lifestyle Takeover Ch. 1

Mel is tasked with taking down mean, domineering business rival Vivienne Gilbert - who, as it just so happens, is a secret superfan of Mel’s journalist best friend turned pet bimbo, Emma

This is a commission from Neana, and a sequel to Lifestyle Journalism!

If you enjoy my work and are looking for more, or you want to support me, I strongly encourage you to check out my Patreon! I  write erotica full-time, which means I need your patronage to keep creating, and my Patrons also get benefits like early access to my stories, extra stories, and the ability to vote on what I write next! So, if that sounds good to you, head over and join the couple hundred patrons I already have :)

---

As she sat outside the CEO of Valeyard Solutions’s office, Mel Adams checked the time on her phone once more and sighed. Supposedly, her host was running five minutes late - this, from a woman who had never been tardy for anything in her life. Making Mel wait was the most transparent power play in the book, and worst of all, it was proving entirely effective at pissing her off.

Really, the whole situation was setting her on edge. An unfamiliar office in an unfamiliar building, opulent yet spartan, and Mel was about to meet one of the most formidable rising stars of the hypnogarch world. A woman who, like Mel, hailed from a social and economic elite who used mind control to leverage and reinforce their power. Only, unlike Mel, this woman had notches on her belt and a fearsome reputation. They were meeting on her turf, too. In hostile territory. Mel was out of her depth.

Which was, of course, the point. This was a test. Mel’s trial by fire, given to her by her parents. To become a fully-fledged hypnogarch, you had to be strong. If you weren’t, your peers would eat your lunch and make you thank them for it while your brains drooled out of your ears.

“Ms. Adams?” said a secretary, approaching and offering a polite little bow. “Thank you for waiting. The CEO will see you now.”

Mel rose from her seat and followed as the secretary led her into the office. She didn’t bother to reply. There was no point, and, like all the others, she gave Mel the creeps. The entire floor was staffed with near-identical women, all of whom wore identical outfits: tiny pencil skirts and tight, white blouses, open to expose cleavage - and all of them had suitable bodies to make the clothes distracting. But more to the point, each one of them had a certain telltale, glazed look in their wide, guileless eyes.

All of the secretaries were completely hypnotized.

It was another typical flex from a powerful hypnogarch. But just like making Mel wait, it was unnerving.

“Melanie Adams,” said the woman behind the CEO’s desk, as they reached her. She smiled a thin smile. “My. I suppose I should be honored.”

It was her. Vivienne Yvette Gilbert. Mel would have recognized her anywhere from all the magazine covers and fawning interviews. She looked just the way she always did in her photos: tall, professional, and classically beautiful, but modest, with her long, tailored suit only just tight enough to hint at the well-honed body underneath. Her auburn hair was tucked back in a neat, disciplined ponytail, and her eyes reflected a keen, vicious intelligence.

Vivienne Gilbert was a business savant, combining old money wisdom with new money ambition, and was, by all accounts, an extremely skilled hypnotist. Her company was taking the corporate world by storm, and the small army of brainwashed secretaries outside attested to her ability to get whatever she wanted from people, by any means necessary.

This was Mel’s test. This was the woman she had to destroy.

“Mel, please,” she offered. “And really, I’m the one who’s honored. Your time is valuable.”

Vivienne nodded graciously, and indicated for Mel to take a seat opposite her. The secretary who had led Mel inside stood at attention to one side, against a nearby wall.

“So,” Vivienne began. Her confidence was supreme. “To what do I owe this pleasure - a visit from the profligate faildaughter of two of high society’s most prominent elite?”

Mel bristled a little, but didn’t let it show in her face. “Curiosity, really. I thought that the two of us might want to get to know each other a little. After all, we’re both from the same generation, right? Just like mine, your parents were-“

“Cut the crap,” Vivienne interrupted with a slicing wave of her hand. She leaned forward. “My time is valuable - more valuable than yours, at any rate - so let’s not waste it. Despite your wasted youth, I’m told that you’ve recently taken a position as executive vice president at one of the family businesses. And recently, shell companies attached to your family have been making aggressive offers to buy out my stake in Valeyard - offers I have declined.”

Mel simply nodded. She wasn’t surprised to learn that Vivienne had figured this much out. Anything less would have been a disappointment.

“You’re here,” Vivienne surmised, “because your mothers asked you to make in-person overtures. They want my Valeyard, and they’ve sent you to persuade me to sell.” She let out a brief, quiet laugh. “Amusing.”

Mel spread her arms. “You’re correct, of course,” she replied. “So far, you’ve rejected all offers. That’s your right. But everybody has their price, even if it’s not monetary. Assurances, perhaps. A position in one of our conglomerates? With Valeyard in the family, we could achieve new levels of market dominance and integration. You could be part of that. You could reap the rewards. Power, prestige - you name it.”

It wasn’t a bad offer - but just as Mel had expected, Vivienne rolled her eyes.

“Sophistry,” the CEO dismissed. “You and your parents simply want to take what’s rightfully mine. You want control - and you want it because you’re afraid. My Valeyard’s quarterly numbers put all of yours to shame. For now, I’m just a good story. A new, rising star. But in a few years, I’ll be knocking at your family’s doors. Challenging your mothers. I’ll be a competitor. A rival. A threat.”

Mel said nothing. She wasn’t wrong.

“Let me make this very clear.” Vivienne smiled a shark’s smile. “I am a threat. You and your mothers are right to be afraid. I’m not willing to be a partner or a pawn, or a… vice president.” She sneered the last two words. “I intend to come out on top. Understand?”

“With respect,” Mel replied, after a moment’s consideration. “Valeyard isn’t exactly rightfully yours, is it? You’ve already shown a willingness to jump ship, given the right opportunity. After all, you didn’t found this company. You simply acquired it. You took advantage of someone else’s capital and someone else’s ideas. Perhaps we aren’t so different.”

Vivienne simply laughed at the provocation. “You really are new to this world, aren’t you?” she mocked. “Yes, I acquired Valeyard. I took it from the original owner. Do you understand what that means? It’s mine. Not hers. Mine. She lacked the strength to hold on to what she’d built, and I had the strength to take it. That’s the very definition of rightful ownership.”

“I understand,” Mel retorted. “And you’ve guided the company all the way to the top of the stock market. Some would say you’ve already proven yourself.”

“Some would say?” Vivienne echoed derisively. “Ridiculous. You’ll have to do much better than that if you expect to convince me. Especially since I suspect that your mothers would prefer I end up much like the original founder.”

“And how’s that?” Mel asked.

Vivienne’s smile grew wider than ever, and she gestured off to one side. “Why don’t you see for yourself?”

Hairs stood at attention on the back of Mel’s neck as she realized Vivienne was indicating the brainwashed, identity-scrubbed secretary who’d led her into the office.

At first, it seemed absurd to believe that such a sharp, entrepreneurial mind could have been so completely blunted. But Mel knew all too well just how far someone could fall given the right kind of treatment, and besides, now that she was looking closely, there was a certain, unmistakably resemblance between the woman standing at attention before her and the woman she’d seen in old photographs when she’d been researching Valeyard’s history.

How long must she have been a mind-controlled thrall by now? Years? It was terrible to imagine - but the worst part was that, even as they were talking about her, the woman’s eyes registered absolutely nothing but blank, blissful, helpless compliance.

For the first time, Mel felt truly intimidated by the task her mothers had presented her with.

“By the time she signed over her company to me, she couldn’t even remember what she was losing.” Mel turned back to Vivienne and saw that she was turning over a pocket watch between her fingers. It was, by all accounts, her preferred instrument of control. “Still, I suppose she’s happy enough - serving me. It’s right where she belongs. Don’t you think?”

Mel just sighed. “I don’t think you intend to seriously entertain any offer I make you.”

“At least you’re smart enough to have figured that out,” Vivienne remarked. She closed her pocket watch and slipped it back into her jacket pocket. “No, I don’t. I just wanted to get your measure. And if you’re the best your mothers can send, well… I’m not impressed.”

“I see,” Mel said stiffly. She stood. “In that case, I won’t take up any more of your precious time.”

“Very gracious.” Vivienne replied contemptuously. She stood too, and indicated the door. “I’m sure you’re perfectly capable of showing yourself out.”

Mel turned, ready to leave. Vivienne didn’t seem to have figured out that Mel had been sent to brainwash her, not persuade her. That was, perhaps, a tiny advantage - but she couldn’t imagine how she might possibly leverage it. She’d seen no hint of any chink in Vivienne’s armor, and given that Mel’s skills as a hypnotist were still developing, she couldn’t see herself winning out in a fair fight. She needed an angle, but there was none.

What did that leave? How was she possibly supposed to win?

At that moment, as Mel was taking her first step towards the door, something happened that caught her attention: her and Vivienne’s phones both buzzed and lit up at exactly the same moment.

Vivienne’s phone buzzed all the time, of course. But for it to happen at precisely the same instant was a little weird. It was as if they had just received the exact same notification. Mel had to assume it was nothing more than a coincidence, but all the same, she found herself glancing at her phone to check.

It was a notification from her girlfriend Emma’s OnlyFans.

Mel didn’t really need to sign up for it - after all, Emma was not only her girlfriend, she was brainwashed to adoringly follow every one of Mel’s wishes. But Mel stayed signed up all the same, both to be supportive and because Emma regularly posted some very, very high-quality content. Despite all the brainpower she’d lost, she was quickly developing her talents as both a model and a photographer. The image set Emma had just posted was particularly alluring: she was dressed, as usual, in pink, skimpy exercise gear, and was in a series of unbelievable poses that perfectly showcased her sluttiness, her flexibility, and her curves all at once. Mel was lucky enough to be able to enjoy that body every night, but even so, it got her just a little hot and bothered.

Quickly, Mel slipped her phone away and chalked the simultaneous notifications up to coincidence. After all, there was no way that Vivienne Gilbert, of all people, was signed up to Emma’s OnlyFans.

Or so she thought, until she looked over and saw Vivienne staring at her screen with a faint but distinct blush in her cheeks.

It still seemed impossible. But suddenly Mel found herself wondering.

“Vivienne?” Mel voiced cautiously. “Is something up?”

“Hm?” Abruptly, Vivienne realized that she was still in the presence of her guest. “No. No, of course not,” she said, a touch too sharply. “But as you can see, I’m very, very busy. Please leave.”

Her tone was off - and more to the point, Mel caught a glimpse of something damning as Vivienne slipped her phone into her pocket.

The OnlyFans logo.

“Of course,” Mel said. “Goodbye.”

She left the Valeyard headquarters with a fresh spring in her step. It had come from the unlikeliest of places, and she still wasn’t sure of her next move, but suddenly Mel had something to work with.

She’d just found her angle.

***

“Hey, Emma? I’m back!”

As soon as Mel stepped into their penthouse apartment and called out to her girlfriend, Emma Park started bouncing toward her with the energy of a golden retriever.

“Babe!” she gushed, as she leapt into Mel’s arms. “Ohmigosh, you’re like, so early!”

Mel couldn’t help but chuckle. ‘Bouncing’ really was the most appropriate term. On top, Emma was wearing nothing but a pink sports bra that was specifically intended to look tight and press her cleavage together while doing absolutely nothing to keep her assets from jiggling up and down as she exercised vigorously for her audience.

Emma Park, exercise bimbo. It was her brand, and she worked it marvelously.

“I just couldn’t stay away,” Mel said brightly. “I love you, Em.”

Emma’s whole face lit up. “I love you too!” she exclaimed, delighted, and started giggling.

As it often did, even after six months, seeing Emma like that did hit Mel with a certain pang. After all, Mel had made her girlfriend this way. Unbeknownst to Emma, Mel had transformed her from a brave, smart muckraker to an airheaded, giggly bimbo. It had been done out of love, because it had seemed like the surest way to save Emma from herself, and from the clutches of the kind of mind controllers she was investigating - but still, it troubled Mel that she’d needed to take from Emma so much of the sharpness and activist passion that she’d always loved about it.

She’d tried to preserve, though, the kernel of all that. Emma’s passion; her energy and drive, her enthusiasm for her work, and her talent for connecting with an audience. It just so happened that, now, all of that was directed differently, at her OnlyFans career instead of investigative journalism. Emma was flourishing in her life: she was hot, successful, popular, healthier than ever - and most importantly of all, happy.

Mel had her pangs of guilt, but making sure the girl she loved was happy and safe was something she would never be sorry for.

“Actually,” Mel said, pushing down on her reflections. “I have an ulterior motive. I’m here because I need to talk to you. I was hoping you could help me out with… with a work thing.”

“Oh, woah,” Emma tittered, dragging Mel over to their couch. “I dunno, I’m not good with all that, like, smart corporate stuff.”

“True,” Mel conceded. “But in this case… look, what if I wanted to track down someone on OnlyFans? Someone who I knew was one of your patrons on there?”

“Oh!” Emma seemed surprised at the question, but her eagerness shone through. “Well, um… do you know, like their username or anything?”

“I’m afraid not,” Mel replied. “I know who they are in real life, and I know - or, at least, I’m hoping - that they’re signed up to support you. I just need to try and dig into that a little more.”

“Hmm.” Emma stood up and started pacing circles around their apartment. It was a huge space - an open-plan penthouse that Mel had lived in alone for years. There had been plenty of room for Emma, and now part of it had been converted to serve as a dedicated exercise area and set. “I dunno… I mean, most people are pretty, like… what’s the word… anonymous?”

“Yeah.” Mel slumped. “Damn. I should have figured.”

“Sooo.” Emma leaned over and peered at Mel. “Who is it, anyway?”

“Vivienne Gilbert,” Mel said. “She’s a big-time CEO,” she added, when Mel gave her a blank look. “It’s for my folks. They want me to… well, to brainwash her somehow.”

She hesitated to mention it to Emma at first. The old Emma wouldn’t have approved. In truth, the old Mel might not have either. She’d always kept hypnogarch power games at arm’s length, but masterminding Emma’s transformation had given her a certain taste for it - a taste her mothers had been eager to help develop. Now, Mel was coming into her own as both a business leader and a mind controller. She was steadily becoming the kind of heir her mothers could be proud of.

But Vivienne Gilbert, it seemed, stood in her way.

“Hmm,” Emma pondered for a long moment. “Well, um… if she’s, like, super-rich, then maybe she’ll be, like… one of the real big spenders?”

Mel’s eyes went wide. Clearly, some of Emma’s old journalistic instincts were still in there - and she’d never been more glad.

“Oh my god!” she cried. “Emma, you’re a genius.”

At that, her girlfriend just giggled.

“Can you show me a list?” Mel asked urgently. “Maybe something will jump out.”

“Sure!”

Emma perched back down on the couch, brought up her OnlyFans on her phone, and, with Mel peering over her shoulder, navigated to a list of her supporters and sorted them by total financial contribution.

The top name immediately stood out. A ludicrously huge tipper - anonymous, but with the email address ‘anon-of@valeyard.com’.

Gotcha. Mel could have danced a jig.

Instead, she reached over Emma’s shoulder and took the phone from her girlfriend’s hands. With manic energy, Mel navigated to what had to be Vivienne’s profile and started looking over her activity history. Not only was she a big spender, she had also left long, enthusiastic comments on every single one of Emma’s posts, including the one Emma had put up during their meeting.

‘Emma!’ it read, ‘my goodness, you NEED to stop distracting me while I’m in meetings… I’m going crazy, this is your best set of pics yet! I know I always say that, but WOW. I’m SOOOO jealous of your mysterious mistress for getting to put her hands all over you all night long. What I wouldn’t do to take her place… she must be quite the woman, I can see that she’s left you with nothing to worry about except pumping reps, draining your brain, and showing yourself off. No worries, no cares, no stresses, just perfect, bimbo bliss. Honestly, I’m a little jealous… but mostly I’m so glad I get to be your no. 1 fan!’

Mel wasn’t one to judge, but she couldn’t help raising an eyebrow. She was having a hard time picturing the icy, vicious CEO she’d just met with saying something like that. The message was gushy, to say the least, but the detail about the meeting all but confirmed Mel’s suspicion about this being Vivienne. More importantly than anything - even her obsession with Emma - Mel detected something crucial in Vivienne’s message. A kind of confused longing, as the CEO described Emma’s ‘bimbo bliss.’ It was enough to make Mel wonder which of them, exactly, the woman was truly jealous of.

Maybe, just maybe, Vivienne Gilbert’s armor wasn’t so impenetrable after all.

And maybe Mel had the perfect weapon sitting right by her side, giggling happily.

“Hey, Emma,” Mel said slowly, as a plan started to form in her head. “What do you say to making a special little thank you video for your number one fan?”

***

As soon as Vivienne Gilbert closed the door to her family’s mansion behind her and felt herself safe from prying eyes, she let her shoulders slump and permitted herself to release a deep, weary sigh. It had been a long day - but then, weren’t they all? - and by the time the last of Vivienne’s engagements had concluded, the sun was long since set. Her staff had retired to their quarters for the night, leaving Vivienne alone to rest for the night.

For five hours - six, if she was really lucky - before she would have to wake up and do it all over again.

When Vivienne had first set her sights on the very pinnacle of social, economic, and mental dominance, she hadn’t quite appreciated how bone-weary the struggle would leave her, day after day. There was no end to it: to the challengers, rivals, competitors and schemers, each one of whom needed to be managed, defeated or subverted as Vivienne climbed her way to the top.

It was a good thing, then, that being in her family’s old home always reignited the flame of Vivienne’s ambition. She remembered it as it had been in her youth: grand, yes, but dark, faded, outdated. Now, thanks to the fortune she had amassed, it had been reborn in splendor. Thanks to her tireless efforts, the name ‘Vivienne Gilbert’ echoed through the corridors of power.

Yes. For this, it was all worth it.

The corners of Vivienne’s lips turned upward in a faint sneer as she remembered how, in their meeting earlier that day, Melanie Adams had tried to draw some kind of comparison between their upbringings. Ridiculous. What would she know? Melanie Adams was the daughter of two prominent, rich, successful hypnogarchs at the top of their game. She couldn’t possibly fathom the kind of scorn that was piled on the daughter of a fading, old-money family being overtaken by a new generation of power-hungry leaders. She had been allowed to laze about for years and take an interest in business and hypnosis when it pleased her, while Vivienne had been orphaned as she’d left business school, and forced to fight alone in the hungry power games that dominated their society in order to secure her position and rebuild her family name.

Melanie Adams couldn’t fathom that kind of drive. She was just another trust fund brat, underestimating her.

But that was OK. It would just make it all the more satisfying when Vivienne ate her mothers’ companies alive and made them beg to lick her shoes clean.

Vivienne smiled ruefully to herself as she let down her long, wavy, auburn hair. Spite was as good a motivator as any. Getting to crush irritating little bugs like Melanie Adams was one of the many pleasures of success. That was, admittedly, a few years away. With her at the helm, Valeyard had taken the corporate world by storm, and was well on its way to becoming a major player, but rapid expansion took time and careful management. For tonight, Vivienne would simply have to find some way to relax in the brief time she could afford before going to bed.

Right on time, her phone chirped with an incoming notification.

When she looked and saw that it was an OnlyFans post, Vivienne’s stomach filled with a delicious, naughty sense of arousal and anticipation. Her OF subscriptions were her guilty pleasure - a secret one, of course. In her line of work, it could be dangerous to let one’s pleasures and proclivities become widely known, which was why Vivienne was always very careful to use a dummy corporate email with no name attached. Valeyard had thousands of employees, and there was nothing to tie her account back to her.

Which meant that, when the mood took her, Vivienne was free to enjoy herself in peace.

Vivienne rushed upstairs to her bedroom, perched on the edge of her huge bed, and opened up OnlyFans. Her wicked excitement doubled when she saw who the notification was from: Emma. Her very favorite. Two posts from her in one day was a rare treat.

The CEO’s eyes widened when she realized that the notification wasn’t a post at all. It was a private message.

‘hiiii,’ it read. ‘hope you’re doing just peachy! I know you’re all anonymous and I like totally respect that! but I also rly rly wanted to do something extra special for my no 1 fan!! so here’s a special private vid nobody else gets to see!!! hope you enjoy it!!! Emma xoxo’

For the first time in Vivienne Gilbert’s life, she felt herself genuinely starstruck. Her heart was pounding, and a giddy, nervous smile came to her face. Her fingertips trembled as she tapped on the screen and downloaded the attached video.

More than once, she’d felt a little embarrassed by how much she’d willingly given to Emma’s OnlyFans. But now, she was nothing but grateful.

Emma wasn’t Vivienne’s only OF sub, but she was by far her favorite. It was difficult to put her finger on why; to Vivienne, Emma was simply perfect. The perfect bimbo. Hot? Yes. Dumb? Yes. Blonde, pink, submissive? Extremely. But beyond that - and beyond any other brainwashed bimbo Vivienne had ever seen - there was something truly, remarkably carefree about Emma. When she giggled, or posed, or exercised for the camera, there was something magical about the way all the old, faded little worry lines in her face completely evaporated, leaving her the very image of mindless, brainwashed bliss.

Whoever her mistress was, they clearly took excellent care of her.

After discovering Emma’s OnlyFans, Vivienne had often considered taking on a bimbo pet of her own. It wouldn’t have been difficult - for a person of her resources and a hypnotist of her talents, there were any number of women who could easily be molded into her ideal bimbo plaything. It might even make a nice change from the identical, obedient secretaries that had become Vivienne’s signature.

But somehow, she just couldn’t bring herself to.

She lacked the time, Vivienne reasoned. Or, perhaps, she didn’t want a distraction from her work. Perhaps she didn’t want her fondness for bimbos to be so easily discovered by one of her many, many enemies. Those were all fine reasons - but they weren’t the real reason. Deep down, Vivienne knew that the reason she loved Emma’s content so much wasn’t because she wanted to own a bimbo like her.

It was because she was ever so slightly envious of her.

Just thinking about it brought a faint blush to Vivienne’s cheeks. It was embarrassing. Mortifying, even, for a woman like her. But in her heart of hearts, she couldn’t deny that there was something appealing about the idea of sinking into that carefree bimbo mindset - of forgetting all the stresses and pressures that accompanied her career, and becoming so dumb and giggly that none of it seemed to matter.

Looking at Emma on OnlyFans made her feel that longing far more keenly, somehow.

It was, of course, a deeply inappropriate and shameful desire for a hypnogarch to entertain. Vivienne had to excuse it to herself as nothing more than an aberration of her psyche; a byproduct of the immense stress she was under, day after day. It had no deeper meaning. It was a fantasy. Nothing more.

And crucially, nobody would ever know.

Safe and secure in that knowledge, Vivienne got comfy on her bed and hit ‘play’ on the video Emma had sent her.

It began with a familiar scene: the set Emma used to film almost all her videos. It was a space in some kind of large apartment, with the floor covered in exercise mats, set against a pink, decorated backdrop. In front of it, Emma stood, and her outfit immediately sent thrilling shivers racing down Vivienne’s spine.

She was dressed up like a cheerleader. That was new.

Emma certainly had the body to pull off the tiny top and scandalous, pleated miniskirt. She was in incredible shape. Her body put Vivienne’s to shame, and that was saying something. Vivienne flattered herself that she looked good. She’d been blessed by genetics, and she incorporated enough exercise into her routine to keep her waist trim and her butt bubbly and shapely. She made sure, of course, to dress with the kind of restraint and dignity that befitted her station, but she’d often found it useful to be able to distract the eye of a prospective rival with a hint of her shapely legs or prodigious cleavage. All the better to lull them into a trance.

Emma, though? She was simply in a different league. All the time and effort she spent working on her body really showed.

One more thing to be envious of.

“Hiiii,” Emma squealed gleefully on the video, with a little bounce that was hot and adorable in equal measure. “Wow! I just, like, love getting to say hi to my number one fan! You’ve given me so much, I really just wanna give you a little gift in return. As, like, a thank-you!”

Vivienne found herself surprisingly flustered. She’d never dared hope for even this level of personal attention from her idol.

“You’ve been cheering me on soooo much, all this time,” Emma went on. “So I figured, maybe I should do a little cheering for you? That’s… um… it’s… irony? I think?”

She giggled. Vivienne did too.

“You must really super like me.” As she spoke Emma bent down and picked up a pair of pom-poms that had been resting at her feet, one in each hand - pink, of course. “I’m, like, totally flattered. Sorta makes me wonder… why? Like, how come you like me so much?”

Already, Vivienne was mesmerized. Emma just looked so good. She made a mental note to reply to the bimbo’s message and explain every little thing she loved about her.

“I mean, obviously I’m, like, so pretty and hot.” Emma struck a little pose. Vivienne purred appreciatively. “But, maybe it’s something more than that?” She giggled. “I dunno. I guess I’m not smart enough to figure out stuff like that.”

Her mindless, carefree laugh washed over Vivienne like a warm, calming ocean tide. Yes, this was the perfect way to relax after a long day.

“Anyway!” Emma made a little show of bending this way and that, stretching and warming in. In the process, her pleated skirt rode up over her ass and hips, giving Vivienne quite the eye-candy to enjoy. “Here I go!”

Vivienne was holding her phone closer and closer to her face. She didn’t want to miss a thing. Already, her body was buzzing with pleasant arousal. Seeing Emma giggle and trip up on her words and bounce around always did it for her, and the CEO was becoming more and more aware of the pent-up need that had been building inside her all day. Her hand started to stray down, toward the hem of her pants.

Abruptly, music started to play. Not a soundtrack, added in post. This was playing out loud on Emma’s set - a bright, upbeat pop track that immediately had Vivienne tapping her fingers along with the rhythm. And then, Emma started to cheer.

“One! Two! One! Two!” Emma sang, each one of her words punctuated by motion: a sway of her hips, a motion of her pom-poms, all perfectly in time with the music. “Emma’s the only one for you!”

Vivienne giggled. It was a perfectly cute, silly little chant for a bimbo like Emma. And, she supposed, it wasn’t far wrong.

“One! Two! One! Two! Emma’s the only one for you!” Emma repeated, still dancing. As she bounced up and down, the way her big, bimbo tits bounced beneath her hopelessly inadequate top was mouth-watering. “One! Two! One! Two! Emma’s the only one for you!”

She kept chanting it, over and over, each word inflected with pure, giddy eagerness. Vivienne was utterly captivated. It was so enchanting to think that this video was just for her. For no one else. As she watched, Emma’s ditzy chant quickly started to worm its way into the CEO’s head. Something about it was infectious. It occupied her attention so completely, she failed to notice the deep, echoey, binaural tones that were slowly creeping into the music.

“One! Two! One! Two! Emma’s the only one for you!” Emma paused briefly to catch her breath. Her cheeks were flushed and her forehead was shining with sweat, and she was all the more attractive for it. “Hey, why don’t you, like, chant along with me?”

Vivienne rolled her eyes. She couldn’t imagine herself doing something like that. But all the same, the suggestion made her slip her hand down into her panties. She was already turned on.

“Oh, wait! That would be silly.” Emma giggled. “It would have to be, like…” She started bouncing to the music again. “One, two, three! One, two, three! Emma’s the only one for me!”

Vivienne shivered rapturously as she drew a finger across her sensitive lips, and grinned wider than ever. Emma’s new chant, with its energetic triple beat, was quickly proving to be even more of an earworm.

“C’mon!” Emma urged, after a little more cheering. “Give it a try? For your fav little bimbo?”

She made the cutest, poutiest face Vivienne had ever seen, and even the hard-hearted CEO couldn’t bring herself to refuse. In truth, she was already half-murmuring along to the silly little rhyme.

“One, two, three,” Vivienne said out loud, keeping time with Emma as the bimbo started chanting again in the video. “One, two, three. Emma’s the only one for me.”

She let out a bashful little laugh. There was nobody around to hear, but all the same, the cheer made her feel self-conscious. It wasn’t all bad, though. When was the last time Vivienne had been able to do something so frivolous?

“Yay!” Emma cried. Vivienne had to remind herself it was just a recording. Clearly, Emma had anticipated her participation. “See? Isn’t this fun?”

As Emma kept cheering - and Vivienne along with her - the CEO was forced to admit that it was. There was something disarmingly simple and joyful about the chant. Already, Vivienne could feel weight being lifted from her shoulders. When she focused her mind on the words, the rhythm, the rhyme, it made it all the easier to forget about the stresses of her daily life.

“One, two, three. One, two, three. Emma’s the only one for me.”

Vivienne kept going, and her mood kept brightening. Each word of the little cheer bounced into the next, carried by the tempo of the music, and any brief pause that might have led to stray thoughts was instead occupied with staring at Emma’s gorgeously toned body as the bimbo jumped and pranced for Vivienne’s entertainment.

Vivienne felt something wet on her chin, and realized she was actually drooling over her. That should have been embarrassing, but somehow she was beyond that, struck with a giddy, infectious enthusiasm that left her uninhibited and euphoric about everything.

“One, two, three. One, two, three. Emma’s the only one for me!”

Her chanting steadily picked up in volume and enthusiasm. Vivienne was slipping further and further into the right mood for it. More and more, she felt oddly like she was really there with Emma, dancing with her, imitating her. Maybe it was just how close she was holding her phone to her face. She felt like Emma’s bimbo-themed home gym was all around her. Her vision was starting to blur from how focused she was - or was it something on the video, instead? Some kind of compression artifacting that manifested as sweeping, spiraling patterns, prickling in and out of existence around the edges of the frame?

Vivienne wasn’t sure, but she couldn’t bring herself to look away and check. She didn’t want to miss a single moment of Emma’s video.

“One, two, three! One, two, three! Emma’s the only one for me!”

She was so relaxed. Perfectly relaxed. It was blissful. And as Vivienne’s muscles gradually let go of all the tension she’d been carrying around, waves of pleasure and arousal started to course through her body. Between her legs, her pussy, dripping on the bedsheets beneath, demanded more and more attention. Vivienne started moving her fingers faster and faster - stroking her cunt in time with the music, in fact.

It felt incredible. This was exactly the relaxation she had been craving. The pleasure was washing away all her stress. Vivienne longed to sink deeper into it, to luxuriate in it - safe in the knowledge that she was anonymous to Emma. Her fingertips dipped inside her cunt, and her chants turned into moans.

“One, two, three! One, two, three! Emma’s the only one for me!”

“You know,” Emma said, dropping her chant. Vivienne kept it going. “Cheering like this makes me feel so, like, happy, y’know?”

Vivienne nodded as if Emma could see her. She was so lost to pleasure, she failed to realize the absurdity of that.

“Just… kinda bubbly and silly and fun!” Emma struck an adorable pose. “Like… I don’t even need to worry about thinking for myself!”

The pose flipped up Emma’s skirt, and Vivienne gasped pleasurably as she saw that Emma was naked beneath the skirt, and dripping down her sculpted thighs.

“It’s just perfect!” Emma exclaimed, giggly. “Totally perfect for a bimbo like me, anyway. Not having to think feels, like, sooooo good.”

Vivienne just nodded again. That sounded just right to her. Still, she was moaning the dumb cheer Emma had given her.

“One, two, three! One, two, three! Emma’s the only one for me!”

“It’s so much better this way.” Emma’s hand drifted down, stroking over her midriff, reaching for herself in unmistakable arousal. “No silly worries… no silly cares… I’m wayyy too dumb for that now.”

Once more, Vivienne nodded eagerly and moaned her new mantra. It sounded so good. So blissful. Vivienne could only fantasize about what it might be like to live in such a permanent state of dumb, horny euphoria.

“All I have to do,” Emma half-moaned, half-giggled, “is look hot, and listen to the music, and shake my pretty little ass for my owner!”

It all sounded so right. More and more, as she succumbed to a pleasure-drunk trance, Vivienne felt as though she could hear other things, too. Other lyrics, buried in the music, barely audible, but layered, so that they flowed into her brain without resistance. That should have been a red flag, but her defenses were down. With each beat, Vivienne’s fingers pumped in and out of her needy cunt, driving more and more of her rational thoughts out of her head.

“One, two, three! One, two, three! Emma’s the only one for me!”

Vivienne’s voice was filled with more joy and enthusiasm than ever, but she was losing the rhythm as heaving moans robbed her of her breath. Her pleasure was cresting, driven by the merciless pumping of her fingers. When the orgasm hit her, Vivienne screamed and thrashed, but even then she didn’t stop cheering. She couldn’t. The music drove her onward, as did her endless craving for the empty, bimbo bliss Emma’s words suggested. She just kept muttering, over and over, in a ceaseless, mindless drone.

“One, two, three! One, two, three! Emma’s the only one for me! One, two, three! One, two, three! Emma’s the only one for me! One, two, three! One, two, three! Emma’s the only one for me!”

She didn’t stop, not even after her orgasm faded. Vivienne even kept touching herself, keeping her pleasure at a roiling boil, driving herself onwards towards the next peak. The music demanded it, and so did Vivienne’s own, insatiable arousal. Nothing had ever felt as good as this. So, she just kept chanting, and touching herself, and working herself even deeper into an eager, compliant trance.

“OK!” Emma announced on the video abruptly, in her giggly, bimbo drawl. “I think that’s enough fanservice from me. But… if you’re really my number one fan, you wanna know what I’d really like you to do?”

Vivienne was just barely conscious enough to nod.

“I want you,” Emma giggled, “to go back to the start of this video, and, like, watch it all over again from the start! M’kay?”

There was no question of doing otherwise. Though her hand was trembling with aftershocks of pleasure, Vivienne managed to use her thumb to scroll all the way back to the start on her phone. At once, it began to play again.

“Hiiii,” the recorded Emma said. “Wow! I just, like, love getting to say hi to my number one fan!”

For hours, until exhausted sleep finally claimed her, Vivienne watched the video over and over again, looping it each time as Emma instructed. Each time, she kept chanting and kept touching herself, conditioning herself to accept all the pleasure Emma’s message offered, bringing herself to orgasm after orgasm, and etching all the subliminal, hypnotic suggestions buried within the video into her brain.

—

I would like to express my gratitude for the generosity of all those who  support me on Patreon, and to give a special thanks to the following  patrons in particular for their exceptional support:

Artemis, Chloe, Grillfan65, The Secret Subject, Morriel, Dex, orangesya, dmtph, MegatronTarantulas, Madeline, BTYOR, Sarah, Mattilda, Emily Queen of sloths, Neana, Shadows exile, Abigail, Hypnogirl_Stephanie_, Jade, mintyasleep, Michael, Tasteful Ardour, Chris, Dennis, Full Blown Marxism, Morder, S, Brendon, Drone 8315, Jim, Erin, HannahSolaria, hellenberg, Kay, Miss_Praxis, Violet, Noct, Charlotte, Faun, BrinnShea, B, Foridin, Jennifer, EepyTimeTea, Phoenix, Jim, Sebastian, Joseph, Thomas, Liz, naivetynkohan, Basic dev, SuperJellyFrogEx, Katie, Lily, spyrocyndersam13, zzzz, Mal, Bouncyrou, Nimapode, Ash, Artemis, Geckonator, TheRealG, Anonymous, J, GladiusLumin, Ada, Marina, Space Prius, Alex, Michael, Thomas, Dasterin, Djura, Pluto, Daedalus, Joe, Mattilda, Ana, proletkvlt, DOLLICIOUS, Yodasgirl, Allie~, Cusco-, Griffin, Bouncyrou, Hazelpup, Jakitron, Leah, ravenfan, Ash, ferretfyre, Christopher, Alphy D, Latavia, KBZ, Ashe, jlc, Jackson, Elizabeth, noe, Steve, Melo, gynoidpoet, MaeMae2569, Lexi, Thomas, Haggisllama, naughtzero, Alan

Finally, special thanks to Neana for commissioning this story!

[sunderingstars]

Dice Time! 🎲

✩ ‧₊˚ ��� DICE ROLL #3 — A KISS ON THE FOREHEAD ⌝

based on this post!

word count: 1k

what the stars reveal: tamaharu, post-canon (manga), they’re both in college, tooth-rotting fluff, tamaki being dramatic as usual (affectionate), venting my college frustrations through a fictional character, idk if you can tell but i waxed a little poetic near the end 😳

— congratulations on inspiring my first tamaharu piece! :3

In concept, contracts weren’t difficult to understand. They were simply agreements between parties that created legal obligation for one thing or another. However, the difficulty came with all of their branching paths; implied, fixed price, unilateral — they all had slightly different approaches, small differences that needed to be kept in mind at all times. One misstep could lead to less-than-savory reviews at best and a complete logistic, even illegal, mess at worst.

So… what’s the answer to this damn question?

Haruhi tapped her pencil against the corner of her mouth, shifting the workbook in her lap ever-so-slightly. Maybe, if the page hit just the right angle, the paragraph of text would re-word itself into something comprehensible. Maybe.

After a few tries and meager results, she sighed in defeat. She’d known law school was going to be difficult, sure, but her poor high school self hadn’t known the half of it. Strict deadlines, bad professors, incomprehensible class structures — they were an entirely different experience for someone who went in thinking college was supposed to be… well… helpful. 

She sighed. It was just the late hour getting to her, she knew, but she couldn’t help it. Not when this annoying question didn’t even have anything to do with the current—

“—Haruhi?”

She jumped. Hard. In what could only be described as sheer dumb luck, the flash of blond beside her ducked away just in time to avoid being head-slammed.

Shocked, Haruhi turned her body to peek over the edge of the sofa, settling her chin on the back cushion. Below her was a boyfriend-shaped face, looking back at her with just as much surprise. “Tamak—?”

“—Oh, thank god!” Soft tears began to well at the corners of his eyes, violet and earnest. In a movement faster than she could blink, he was tilting up and over to wrap his arms around her half-twisted form. It was nice — warm and inviting and rose-scented the way it always was — but for a worrying moment, she thought something was wrong. Then, he said: “I thought you’d become a zombie. Like in those scary apocalypse movies.”

Haruhi froze, then sighed. Deeply. 

“There, there,” she said flatly, unfortunately unable to pat him on the back due to the workbook and pencil still hanging in her grasp. Then, before he could start rambling on about the logistics of how he would’ve “definitely taken care of her as a zombie by bringing fresh brains from the morgue back home instead of groceries,” she turned swiftly back to her work, letting the guise of study change the topic of conversation.

Sure enough, less than a moment later she felt Tamaki’s soft-conditioned hair brush against the side of her forehead. “What are you working on?”

His voice was softer, this time, tempered to a murmur above her ear, and she could smell the faint lilac of cologne carried on his breath. 

“Oh, you know,” she shrugged. Gave the workbook a wave. “Just… this.” 

Tamaki hmphed. As if on cue, soothing hands came to rest on her skin, pressing gently at the juncture between her shoulders and neck. She was always vague when stressed, and they both knew it.

“Wanna take a break, then?” he asked.

Instead, Haruhi leaned into the faint knead of his palms, eyes still trained on the page in front of her. “You’d make a good masseuse.”

“Haruhi,” he warned, “you know how I feel about you overworking yourself.” Then, somewhat proudly, “And my services are exclusive.”

Haruhi sighed for the umpteenth time that night. There wasn’t much she could do — she was too tired to deflect Tamaki’s stubbornness, and a break did sound nice. However, she also couldn’t avoid one looming fact: the homework was due tomorrow. Eventually, she made a compromise.

“Fine,” she said. “But only for five minu—”

The warmth behind her was already retreating, shooting around the length of the couch to plop down beside her with an enthusiastic “yes!”. Like an overly-attached dog, Tamaki’s face soon found itself bundled into the crook of her neck, pouting as she put the pencil down but refused to set the workbook aside. It only took one whining “Haruhi…” before she was groaning and setting the papers on the coffee table too. 

With that, Tamaki was free to monopolize her space, humming contentedly as his arms shifted to curl around her torso.

“You’re incorrigible, you know,” she said, eyes crinkling with the beginnings of a smile.

“I know,” he mumbled.

“Happy now?”

A ruffle of hair against her chin as he nodded. “Mhm.”

For the first time in a while, Haruhi didn’t sigh. It always ended like this — Tamaki curling up against her like a personal heater, turning inward like she was all he ever needed. It made her wonder why, sometimes; why he cared so much, why he bothered, why exactly he saw what he saw in her. But it was difficult to hold onto those worries when he was holding onto her even tighter. When he was going out of his way to leave her spare umbrellas on rainy days, to buy her favorite giant tuna at the store, to bring home facemasks with cute little raccoons he said looked “just like her.” It was like he catalogued every little thing about her, kept them pressed in the notebook of his mind like flowers he never let wilt. 

When she sniffled, he shifted to look at her. His eyes bore into her like violets, and when his mouth opened he breathed lilac, words landing rose-tinted against her skin: “You okay?”

In response, she ducked her embarrassingly watery eyes against the sunflower strands of his hair. “Yeah…” Then, she nosed her way to his skin, pressing a soft kiss to his forehead. Something familiar and warm bloomed in her chest. It unfurled in petals of sunshine and rushing water, and it occurred to her that she must be the luckiest person in the world to feel it.

“…I just love you.”

She didn’t have to see Tamaki’s face to know something was blossoming within him too, curling into a smile on his lips.

“I love you too.”

© written by sunderingstars. do not copy, repost, translate, modify, or claim my work as your own.

[creative-caramel-coffee]

The Ebony Wings of Hydra - CH 2

Pairings: Wanda x R

Word count: 2.2K

Summary: you have a nightmare and Wanda and nat help you.

TW: panic attack, flashback, death (mentioned), nightmares, touch deprivation, touch therapy

A/n a very fluffy (and kinda short) chapter for y’all :)

They had given you a room. Not a cell. A whole room to yourself. When Wanda had shown it to you, she watched with an amused grin as you paced and inspected every small part of it.

After your shopping spree you had a set of coloured pencils, paints, markers and a whole host of mechanical pencils, rubbers and even a premium sketchbook. Wanda had insisted after she caught you drawing in the communal lounge.

*flashback*

“Hey y/n have you seen my-“ Wanda said walking into the room pausing by your shoulder. You were sat drawing on a piece of scrap paper. So involved in it you hadn’t noticed her presence. “Wow.” Wanda said unintentionally. You flinched, not having heard her get closer.

“Sorry.” Wanda said with a small smile cross grimace. “That’s really amazing y/n” she said pointing. You grinned sheepishly and cover it with spread fingers the tips of your ears turning pink. Wanda reached over your shoulder and pried your fingers away with little resistance. The drawing was Wanda in the kitchen cooking pancakes from earlier that morning. “You really have a skill y/n.” Wanda said smiling softly. “Im defiantly talking to Steve about getting you some more art supplies. You cant keep using this” she gestured to the 50c mechanical pencil you were holding. You frowned “why not?” You said and Wanda laughed.

“Its not very artist-y i honestly don’t even know where you found that. Tony hates cheap stationary.” She grinned.

“I think pepper keeps replacing Tony’s fancy pens with them. I caught her swapping them and she explained his pet peeve and how hers is him not turning up to meetings so this is her payback.” You grinned. Wanda looked slightly shocked.

“You met pepper?”

“Yeah after breakfast i was looking for tony to thank him. She gave me one of them” you grinned.

*end flashback*

It had now been almost 24 hours since you first arrived. The team was adjusting to your presence but most weren’t at the compound. Clint was with his kids. Nat was on a mission but was supposed to be getting home soon. Bruce was in his lab. Bucky and Sam had to go on a mission with Steve. Wanda and you had been spending time together. And tony seemed to be getting mad about something and had locked himself in his lab where pepper had been bringing him food between her meetings claiming he can’t live off coffee. Peter was busy with school and Kate and Yelena were who knows where.

The last 24 hours had been frustrating for tony, he was desperate to know how you were enhanced. But Friday didn’t know either just saying you had modified genetics and since tony had freaked you out in the med bay, aside from thanking him, Wanda and Natasha had barred him from seeing you until you were better.

It was now 11pm, you had stayed up late and started a new drawing. You tossed and turned for a bit, as nice as it was you were unused to a bed and it was too soft to sleep on. After a few minutes you grabbed the blanket and a pillow and moved to the floor. Sighing it felt more familiar. It wasn’t long until the exhaustion caught up and you drifted off.

Nat had just gotten back. She had a drink of water in the kitchen and had showered at the safe house before coming back. Now she just wanted to slip into something comfy and go to sleep. She caught the elevator back to her floor. She shared the level with the other girls, you and Wanda and sometimes Yelena when she stayed at the tower. There was also the spare room which was Kate’s when she was here.

Stepping off the elevator nat chuckled at the flickering lights and muffled sounds from under Wanda’s door. She had obviously fallen asleep watching sitcoms again. Nat carefully opened the door, whispering to Friday to turn it off once she saw Wanda asleep. Friday turned it off and nat turned out the light before leaving. Wandas little red nightlight glowed softly. Since Pietro died she found the dark suffocating and it was always so much worse when she woke in a cold sweat from a nightmare in the dark. Nat was the only one who knew as she suggested and bought it for Wanda after calming her down one night.

Nat’s feet carried her down the hall she pausing at your door listening for movement to see if you were sleeping. She frowned. Small whimpers could be heard past the door. Just as nat placed her hand on the door knob a blood curdling scream came from within the room. Nat was inside in an instance. Almost panicking when she saw the empty bed until her gaze lowered to where you sat shaking on the floor. She slowly came to your side. Tears were streaming down your face. White knuckled hands gripped the blanket as you shuddered with each uneven breath you drew. Your eyes were flitting fast around the room the darkness drowning you.

Nat was by your side carefully she pried your hands from the blanket replacing them with her own hands. She squeezed them to try and draw you back. Nat looked into your eyes, her mouth was moving but you heard no words. Nat’s breathing was exaggerated and subconsciously you began to mimic it.

“Good thats good. Your doing so well y/n.” She said and you nodded tears still streaming down your face. “Fri, lights at 20%” then the lights began to slowly become brighter. You flinched and nat went back to comforting you. Neither of you had noticed Wanda standing in the doorway. After a few moments you threw yourself at nat. She stiffened not expecting it before relaxing and wrapping her arms around you. You sniffled and buried your teary face in her chest.

“Shh shh shhh” nat said rubbing her hand up and down your back softly. Nat looked up for the first time nodding to Wanda. Wanda nodded back mouthing “is she ok?” Nat nodded mouthing back.

“Nightmare.” Wanda nodded again and came and sat beside nat. Wanda began drawing shapes on your thigh. Soon small snores came from Nat’s lap as the two realised you were asleep.

“Should we move her to the bed?” Wanda asked.

“Its more comfortable than the floor. But for some reason she was sleeping on the floor when i came in.” Nat frowned.

“Understandable i did the same when I first came here. Its more like a cell. Shes more used to it than the bed.” Wanda explained. Carefully nat shifted to stand with you in her arms. Sleepily you clung to her. Wanda chuckled.

“Need any help?”

“No. But i think i am going to stay here tonight in case she has another nightmare. Can you watch her while i get changed? Ill only be a minute.” Nat said, carefully placing you on the bed.

“Sure no problem.” Wanda said watching you start wriggling on the bed. Wanda sat down rubbing a hand on your back you sought her out and snuggled into her leg and went still once more aside from the steady rise and fall for your chest.

“Thanks Wanda.” Nat said. She left quickly and changed. Returning to find Wanda asleep with you curled into her side. Nat chuckled quietly slipping out and unplugging Wanda’s night light from her room and plugging it in into your room instead. She pull the sheets over the three of you and went to sleep. You slept the rest of the night. Waking in the cold darkness had been a bit too much like your cell and it had been what triggered the panic attack after the nightmare you had because it was like you were still there.

The next morning you woke to the feeling of arms around you. You stiffened before last night came back to you. You groaned softly and opened your eyes. Nat looked down at you from where she sat against the headboard of the bed reading.

“Morning sleepy head.” She whispered and grinned down at you. It must be Wanda’s arms around your midsection then you thought to yourself.

“Morning.” You said, morning voice quiet gravelly with the absence of moisture.

You noticed the soft red glow from the table by Nat’s side of the bed.

“Um. Nat?” You whispered.

“Yes y/n?” She said looking up again from the book tucked between her knees.

“You didn’t need to bring in a night light.” You blushed unsure how she knew about what you felt last night.

“Oh. Its Wanda’s.” Nat said and you seemed to deflate. “Why? Do you want one?” Nat said softly. You merely swallowed and her gaze softened more. “There’s nothing wrong with it y/n.”

“Its just… last night after i woke i couldn’t see and i felt like… like… I was back there.” You said. Wandas arms seemed to tighten around you.

“Thank you for telling me y/n I’ll be sure to order anther one today. Do you have a colour your prefer?” She asked placing in a bookmark to the spine of her book.

“Um not really. Just not yellow or orange. Red is ok. But the alarm lights in the cell. The ones that came on during attacks or when the siren went on was, were yellow and orange. So, please not those colours if thats ok.”

“That’s perfectly fine thank you for telling me.” Nat said.

“I said the same thing.” Wanda said from behind you and you chuckled slightly. Wanda withdrew her arms seemingly unbothered by the previous contact. You missed it almost. No. You defiantly missed it. Years without friendly contact had left you severely touch starved. So much so that you craved even the most basic touch. Wanda seemed to sense your change in mood.

“Y/n?” She asked slowly.

“Yeah?” You swallowed.

“Did you share a cell in hydra.”

“No? Why?” You said and Wanda frowned.

“Not once?” She asked and nat seemed to catch on but you still hadn’t.

“No.” You shook your head propping yourself up on your elbows.

“Y/n do you know what touch starvation is?” Nat asked placing her book on the bedside.

“Vaguely?” You said.

“Well you should expect a lot more contact from the both of us from now on sweetie. And daily cuddles from whichever one of us you would prefer.” Nat said softly.

“Ok.” You said softly averting you gaze.

“Hey.” Nat said softly using her finger to guide your head up by the underside of your chin until you locked eyes. “Its ok. Your safe now.” She said and after the moment passed Wanda slipped out from behind you. She walked over to the bathroom.

“Hey y/n do you mind if i use your bathroom.”

“Not at all. Go ahead.” You said. And Wanda smiled slipping inside and shutting the door. After a couple of moments the door opened again and Wanda’s head popped out.

“Y/n you don’t have any toiletries?”

“Um yeah? Hydra didn’t really send us many care packages.” You said.

“Friday order everything off my list on Amazon called basic toiletries.”

“Yes Ms Maximoff right away.”

“We will not have you using Tony’s tiny Ironman branded hotel soaps.” She said and grinned before disappearing inside again and shutting the door once more.

“So? Which ones did you get?” Nat said with a grin.

“What do you mean?”

“Tony being tony has made his shampoo and conditioners a collectable set. There are twelve different pictures of tony in his suit. He made some harder to find than others. Don’t tell anyone but I’ve been trying to complete the set since i first came here.” She grinned and you laughed behind you hand.

“I don’t know. Its his suit but its not. Its blue kinda?” You said.

“Omg you have the pepper set.”

“The pepper set?”

“Pepper would only let tony do something so self centred if she was allowed to be on one of them in her suit.” Nat grinned. “I’ll defiantly be taking them because i don’t have that one yet. Tony being petty made it one of the less common ones just to spite pepper.” Nat giggled. Your jaw dropped.

“Pepper has a suit?”

“Yeah but she doesn’t fight or anything. Tony wont let her. Its more a security measure. Just in case she needs to be protected.” Nat nodded. A moment later Wanda emerged from the bathroom.

“Im going to go start on breakfast.” She said.

“Don’t bother.” Nat said “Clint’s been in the kitchen since 5am. He wanted to surprise us with a visit and rub it in Tony’s face that he can cook without burning it.”

Wanda giggled. “Well in that case.” She said slipping back under the sheets. “Its time to start y/n’s daily cuddles.” You blushed deeply as Wanda snuggled up to your side.

“Is this ok y/n?” Wanda asked.

“Y-yes.” You said and Wanda smiled.

“Good.” She draped an arm over your stomach as she buried her face in your side.

“Wandas very cuddly in the mornings.” Nat chuckled. “Normally I’m the one who gets the cuddles.” She said.

“Well feel free to join.” Wanda mumbled and nat smiled placing a hand on your leg.

MASTERLIST

[ksnfangz]

PART SEVEN : RICKY WHEN I CATCH YOU RICKY

nervously taping his fingers against the wooden tables jungwon continued to stare at the door of the local library. He had settled for a more basic outfit, wearing a plain white t-shirt with a grey jacket thrown over to protect him from the cold air.

He would occasionally look down at his phone hoping that a text from y/n would pop up letting him know that she was there. His coffee was now half drunken while hers began to get cold.

Why is he so nervous? It is just a study session not a date.

The familiar sound of a text notification filled his ears and he quickly picked up his phone

y/nie 🐈 : hey im here where are you sitting??

wonnie 🐈‍⬛ : I’m kinda in the back by the graphic novels! you should be able to see me from the main door though.

y/nie 🐈 : okay here I come

read

Jungwon felt his brain freeze as the girl made her way toward him with what he would describe as the cutest smile on her face. Was she that happy to see him?

“ Hi!” jungwon says gesturing for the girl to sit across from him. “ Hey, thank you again for helping me. I suck ass at essays not even sure how I made it through high school.” Y/n says with a small laugh digging through her bag to pull out her textbook, pencils, and a note book decorated with different stickers.

“ Oh, I got you a coffee!” Jungwon informs sliding the drink over to the girl trying not to noticeably watch her taste it.

“ Woah it’s really sweet!” Y/n says her face twisting. “I’m usually a little lighter on the sugar but it’s still good, thank you wonnie.” the girl states taking another sip. Jungwon would have a word with sunghoon later. wait for wonnie? Does she just—

“ Sorry if it’s too sweet I asked sunghoon how you liked it he told me you like a lot of sugar but now that I think about it shouldn’t have trusted him.” Jungwon rambles.

“ It’s okay jungwon, it’s the thought that counts next time I’ll buy you a coffee.”

wait next time? there was gonna be a next time? Jungwon smiled to himself.

“ I’ll hold you to that, now onto this essay what’s it about?” Jungwon asks.

“ we’re supposed to share our opinions on whether or not we agree with the author's view on how nature connects to human lives but my reasonings aren’t good enough,” she explains a small pout resting on her lips.

“ She said I need to find the deeper meaning or something.” y/n scoffs opening her laptop.

“ That doesn’t make much sense… it’s supposed to be an opinion-based answer. So why do you need to explain a deeper meaning?” Jungwon asks.

“ That’s what I’m saying.” y/n exclaims before covering her mouth completely forgetting they were in a library. The girl mumbled a small sorry to the old librarian as she walked past them with a judgmental eye.

The rest of their time was spent working through the essay, jungwon hoping that the girl wouldn’t notice his shaky hands as he pointed out certain errors, and Y/n hoping the boy didn’t think she was a complete idiot due to her spelling and grammar errors.

Though here and there the two would somehow get onto random topics such as movies, their favorite Mukbang channels, and what colors they want to dye their hair. Pretty much anything the two could talk about to try and get to know the other more.

As the sun slowly began to set, their library date had come to an end. Jungwon quietly helped the girl pack away her items, and throw away the empty coffee cups. He’d still be having a word with sunghoon later.

“ Did you need a ride home?” the boy asks as they exit the library.

“ No, a friend is coming to get me so we can go out for dinner!” Y/n says excitedly. “I haven’t seen him in so long since he went to visit his parents in China,” she adds.

“ Oh that’s nice… I’ll wait with you until he comes,” Jungwon states.

“It’s okay, you don’t have to stand here it’s getting late.” y/n replies. “that’s the exact reason why I need to stay I’m not leaving you out here alone at night,” Jungwon explains.

“ That’s sweet of you.”

After a few more minutes a sleek black car pulled up in front of the library, and out stepped one of the best-looking guys jungwon had ever seen. “ Ricky!” y/n cheered rushing to hug the boy, jungwon tried to hide his jealousy as the male's arms wrapped around y/ns waist.

“ Hey y/nie, ready for dinner?” The blonde questioned not even acknowledging Jungwon's presence.

“ of course, I am we have a lot of catching up to do!” Y/n replied cheerfully.

“ Oh, and Ricky this is jungwon! he’s helping me with English class because I’m struggling.”

For the first time since he’d arrived, Ricky had finally looked at jungwon giving the boy a better view of his face. He kinda looks like a cat… y/n likes cats. A lot.

“ Hi, nice to meet you.” Ricky greets showing a charming smile which jungwon returns, or at least attempts to.

“ Nice to meet you too! I’ll be going now since you’re here, see you later y/n have fun at dinner.” Jungwon waves before quickly walking away to his car hearing a faint. “ Bye wonnie.” from the girl, never failing to make his cheeks glow red.

☆ 𝑪𝑨𝑻 𝑭𝑼𝑹 . . . yang jungwon a boy allergic to cat fur who risks his life everyday just to get a glance at the pretty girl who works behind the counter at manifesto cat cafe. ☕️

☆ TAG LIST : @advre-you @woncine @chaechae-23 @jaehyunsblkgf @yeomha @yumilovesloona @stqrlite @kimsunoo2003 @gg1609 @mrowwww @rikimylove @jwsflower @xiaoderrrr @gyuuluvr @j1nniee @planethyuka @fiqire @chocolatewstrawberry @kpopstanmeg @k1ttylvr @yunwonie @grayscorner @hpyjw

( comment / send ask to be added, it’s OPEN )

A/N : i’m sorry sorry for the long wait school is kicking my ass rn… plus i have drivers ed after school on most days so i dont get home until like 7:50… sorry for any spelling / grammar errors!!

☕️prev - masterlist - next 🐈

[aloeboba]

Heating pad

A/N: I'm backish but todomomo has been on my brain this whole year and I'm miserable so I have brought an offering.

Synopsis: Momo can't seem to get rid of her cramps so Shoto volunteers to snuggle

Fluff / University AU / Domestic / Periods / No quirks

"Momo, are you still cramping?" Shoto asks after a little while of quiet studying, pulling out the pencil he had slipped behind his ear and beginning to scribble something down on a note card beside his laptop, focused on his work.

A soft groan sounds from her place on the bed. "Yes."

He scratches his head with his pencil, looking over what he wrote. "And did you take the ibuprofen I gave you earlier?"

"Yes."

Shoto leans back in his desk chair, hands behind his head as he slightly rocks back and forth. "And you're not feeling better at all?" He turns in his chair to look at Momo and his heart softens at the sight of her snuggled up in bed in one of his hoodies and unfortunately feeling immense pain.

"Oh, I don't know what's wrong with me." Momo groans and covers her eyes, lightly rubbing them with the palms of her hands. "It's been long enough. The pain killers should have kicked in by now..."

He blinks slowly and purses his lips, raising from his chair and approaching the side of the bed. "I've read that endorphins can help get rid of cramps." He lightly touches her knee over the comforter.

"Yes, I've read that, too." Momo replies, still rubbing her eyes. "What do you suggest?"

Before she can open her eyes again, Shoto has quickly and comfortably snuggled up beside her, wrapping his arm over her torso and his body heat already warming her up.

Momo's lips form into a small 'o' shape but she doesn't resist the cuddles or close proximity. He raises his head and kisses her cheek and nestles his face in the crook of her neck. "I mean, it's worth a try, right?"

"And if this doesn't work, we'll go on a walk or something. Exercising is supposed to help as well." He inhales the smell of her hair; roses. Like always.

"Right." Momo weakly nods her head with a small smile.

Her body tenses when she feels another cramp in her abdomen and Shoto feels this, quickly moving his hand down to her lower stomach, brushing his thumb over it for a moment and kissing her cheek again. "You'll be alright." He whispers with a small but encouraging smile.

His hands were either weirdly hot or cold and luckily today they were running hot, like a personal heating pad just for her. Momo let's out a small laugh before musing. "You're the best heating pad..."

Shoto quietly scoffs, pressing his body a bit closer to hers. "I'm your best everything."

She closes her eyes, humming an amused little laugh to which he responds by kissing the side of her head and tracing slow shapes onto the lower part of her stomach. "I guess you're right." Momo finds his other hand and squeezes it affectionately. "...I can't promise I won't fall asleep and I don't want to keep you away from your tasks so if you feel like moving, you can."

"I need a break so it's fine." He presses his cheek against her shoulder. "You sleeping isn't going to deter me from staying. I'd much rather be right here with you than anything else."

Momo turns her head and kisses the top of his head with a content smile. "Then I guess it's okay..."

He nods his head, closing his eyes with her until they both nod off to sleep.

AO3

[yzeltia]

FFXIVwrite2023 20.Hamper

Characters: Krile Baldesion, G'raha Tia Expansion: Endwalker (No Spoilers) Rating: Teen Notes: I tried not to write about the lucky shorts. Moen Moen shook them out of me. I'm sorry friends.

Krile was taken aback upon entry to G'raha and Keith's apartment. Her dear friend had requested her assistance with some light housekeeping, near desperate in fact. With their daughter essentially arriving out of the aether, her assumption had been that the Miqo'te was struggling to keep up with the mess young ones tended to make. She was surprised to find this was not the source of his domestic woes.

No, G'khenna's things were nearly neatly arranged in a corner. Her desk was organized so all her school books were alphabetized, bookends with a photo of her and her family on one side with a captured moment of leave between her and Khloe on the other. At the side a small crystal magic rod, an umbrella, and a foil with a focus hung off it were latched into custom notches of the desk's top. From pencils to aetheric charts, all the little girl's things had a proper place and were put so. 

No, what ailed the other Archon was not that of his young girl, but of his adult Hyur husband. On the floor in their bedroom, G'raha sat surrounded by the carelessly discarded things of his husband while Krile looked on from the door.

"Scholar save me. How can any one person be this messy? I did not realize how careless he is with his belongings," the Miqo'te groaned, pushing Keith's dumbbells under the end of their bed where he'd taken to storing his other athletic gear.

"Love has a way of blinding us to our partners' habits, Raha. Perhaps a little light scolding is due," Krile said, lightly bending to pick up a few discarded shirts, "Though, how have you let it get this bad?"

G'raha closed his eyes and tilted his head back, ears folding as he swallowed.

"We divided up our chores. His talents lay in the kitchen so I was relegated to the other odds and ends around the apartment. Laundry was among them I suppose."

"So this is more or less a mess of your own making?"

"I've been busy with adventuring and my studies. I know I said I'd pick up around the place but at the very least he could make use of the proper receptacles when he disrobes."

Krile let out a little laugh as the Miqo'te pouted and tossed a pair of Keith's boxer briefs into a basket. Together the friends continued to sort through the clothing on the floor then through a bag of Keith's adventuring gear.

"I would think you'd have a little more joy out of this, Raha. Your things mingled among an adventurer's and rightfully one yourself now. This is probably the more insight than most would ever get to what it's like for a hero behind closed doors."

"I suppose this is reminiscent of two thirds of the Warrior of Lights' dwellings. Krile, that is indeed a good way of looking at this. I have offered my companionship for adventuring and this is just some of the labor that goes into it. I can appreciate the stain on his leathers from him tumbling into grass or a scratch upon his leathers from close combat. The smell of his shirt soaked with the scent of his trrravels and himself," the Miqo'te started, purring as he nuzzled his face into the chest of an undershirt.

"Let's not get carried away now. Here, we have plenty of loads for the wash," Krile said, rolling her eyes ever so slightly as G'raha blushed and tossed the shirt away.

Gathering a basket, she hummed then caught a glimpse of golden fabric sticking out from under their bed. 

"It seems we've missed one," the Scion called out, moving to whip a pair of bomball shorts out from the hiding place.

"Seven hells," the woman breathed out, quickly tossing the garment to the bed before covering her nose, "Those have seen far too much adventure for me to be handling.'

G'raha quickly dived to the bed, catching the discarded shorts, flushing deeply as he stuffed them back under his bed. He sat up, ears pinning back as he avoided Krile’s suspicious gaze. 

“What on Ethyris has gotten into you,” Krile finally asked.

“Nothing. Just leave those be. They’re Keith’s lucky shorts.”

“They’re foul.”

“Imbued with good luck, or so he says. You know how superstitious athletic types arrrre. He is no exception. It is purrre psychology. He believes he performs betterrr, and so he manifests it. A simple trick of the mind, though it is all confirmation bias. I am certain in time that he will see the light, after some exposure to sound slowly administered logic, that his musky shorts have no bearrring on luck and are not as appealing as he has been led to believe.”

Krile covered her mouth, “Appealing? Raha, I do not want to be privy to such debauchery.”

“I assure you, there is no debauchery to be had! It is the general physique and perhemones that-”

“No, say no more! Please Raha. No explanation will be sufficient enough for you to continue. I can hardly say I shall forget that awful stench,” Krile laughed, picking up a basket before hurying from the room.

“Krile! Please! I did not articulate myself sufficiently! Krile!” the Miqo’te called out, face as red as his hair. 

Whimpering, he slumped down to the floor, hands in his face before peaking at the shorts. He closed his eyes, bringing them up to hug for a moment, and in his own bit of superstition asked the Scholar to return his love home safely. Hearing Krile call again, he hopped up then picked up his baskets, face remaining red as he went to get on with his chores.

[prosperdemeter2]

I never knew just how much I needed perspective flips from the rewrite series until I just read them lol. These characters are so…perfectly messy and human the way you write them and I absolutely love it. Just like Maddie alone. The way I wanted to just go uggg in the her pov for the Eddie asking about Daniel moment. But then wanted to high five and cheer for her in the other one where she told Bobby not to dare try and mess up buddies relationships after the bombing. Brilliant.

Anywho, while I can’t stand her in it, Can I ask for a perspective flip for Shannon in chapter 2 of collision please? 🥹

Gosh! This was a complicated one lmao. Let it be known that, for the canon of the series, I will probably never be going into Shannon’s POV again 😅 (not that I'm frustrated or anything about it. She was just TOUGH to write).

As for your words up top: omg pls you're so sweet 😭 I try so hard to write characters that are flawed but so deserving of love - I hope as the story goes on you gain some sympathy for a Maddie that's learning and trying to be better now.

collision chapter two

Eddie’s house was… quaint. It wasn’t what Shannon would have chosen for their family, if he had ever bothered to ask her, but it was what he had chosen. She supposed she shouldn’t have been surprised, Eddie had always been fond of the smaller things in life. He didn’t enjoy extravagant, he had fought her tooth and nail over getting a new car when they were still together, citing medical bills and a future fund that he’d rather be putting his pension into. He had to have been making enough in his career as a public servant (and with his retirement from the Army), so Shannon didn’t really understand why he was still living in his small, two bedroom, one story house. But it wasn’t her concern how Eddie spent his money anymore. 

At least, not when it came to this. 

“Good morning, sweetheart.” Harvey kissed her cheek like he always did, like she was a work of art, and gently tucked a piece of hair behind her ear. She preened - Eddie had never touched her like that, he had never spoiled her the way Harvey did, with pride and reverence. Harvey was better, everyone in her life told her that (Shannon had known that when they had first slept together - Harvey was perfect, safe… dispassionate.). 

Shannon hated Eddie’s little house. 

It was too clean, too lived in, too decorated. He had a calendar on the refrigerator that didn’t have his handwriting on it, stuffed behind Christopher’s messy color pencil drawings and report card boasting all A’s. He had a list of emergency phone numbers taped on the counter next to a landline and Shannon’s name wasn’t even on it - the list went: Buck, Carla, Bisabuela, Tia Pepa, Maddie, Captain Nash, Athena Grant, Karen Wilson, Tia Adriana. The list was obviously for Christopher, just like the shower chair and the rails in the bathroom she had spotted earlier. It was a good thing he already had those in place, Shannon had noted with a derisive snort, considering his boyfriend needed them just as much lately (if the way he was slowly moving the night before said anything). 

Shannon glanced over her shoulder and towards the locked door at the end of it - Christopher was still in the bathroom, he had paused briefly outside of the door that clearly belonged to his father’s bedroom but Shannon had waved him along. I’ll make breakfast, she had said with a smile. 

Christopher always liked waffles. She was sure Eddie had the ingredients to toss those together, although she didn’t see a waffle maker anywhere. Maybe she should interrupt the two of them, like she had thought of doing the night before just for the laugh of it all (imagine, Shannon scoffed. Helena would have had Eddie’s head, and Shannon’s, if she had ever caught them doing what Shannon had caught him doing the night before.). She could imagine it, really. She didn’t know what they were doing behind that door, really, except she knew, from her own wealth of experience, just how good at bedroom activities Eddie was. They’d probably be lost in each other, like Shannon had noticed they so often were. Her knocking on the door, sharp and loud, would have them springing apart. If she laughed loud enough, she could picture the perfect bright red Eddie’s cheeks would turn - it used to mean that they would be having a very entertaining romp in the sheets themselves, but Shannon had long ago grown to enjoy the lead up to the main event just as much. Eddie was easy to rile up, fun to do too, and ever since he had served her those divorce papers? Shannon thought he deserved a bit of embarrassment every now and then. “Can I have cereal?” Christopher interrupted her thoughts with a blink of innocence. 

Shannon flinched. “I’m going to make waffles.” 

Christopher frowned. “Okay,” he shrugged. “Can I have cereal still?” 

“Your mother,” Harvey intervened when Shannon merely bristled in her spot. “Is going to make waffles.” 

“I don’t want waffles.” Christopher argued petulantly. He had always done that - it had driven Shannon insane when he was little. Clearly, Eddie had picked up where his parents had left off when it came to catering to Christopher’s every want and need. “Dad says I can have cereal so long as I have fruit too.” 

“Well, dad’s not up.” Shannon said in a forced light tone. Dad said, dad said, dad said. It was all she had heard the day before until they had gotten back home and then Christopher had sat himself next to Buck on the floor all night until it was time for bed. Shannon had offered him the side of the couch closest to her, Christopher had always been a cuddler and Shannon had, genuinely, missed having his small body pressed tightly against hers. Christopher had declined, though, but she hadn’t missed the way he had cuddled up next to Buck’s side instead. Perhaps she should have offered him her seat, the man had just gotten out of his full leg cast not too long ago, but there had been a bit of vindictive joy in watching him wince as he straightened out his leg to rest on the rug. “What he doesn’t know won’t hurt him.” She winked over her shoulder at Christopher’s little, tired face, and turned back to the cabinets with a frown. 

“Dad -.” It was like Christopher had summoned him. 

The door opened and shut on the other end of the hallway and Shannon… she had always been attuned to Eddie. She knew the cadence of his footsteps, the way he breathed, the way he would first look for Christopher and then look for her. Only it took longer than Shannon remembered it ever taking for Eddie to look in her direction - the door clicked shut behind him and his hair was a mess (and he had a small bruise, sucked into the skin of his collarbone that Shannon couldn’t help staring at when his shirt slipped down enough for her to see it. It wasn’t jealousy so much as rage. Eddie had belonged to her for the longest time, she had been the only person he had ever slept with, his first and only for so long. Any mark he had on his skin used to be because she put it there. And now she was competing. With a man who made Eddie laugh and, and… she was mostly ambivalent towards Eddie’s boyfriend, except that she wasn’t. She couldn’t help but think of how different things would have been if he hadn’t been around, if she hadn’t waited so long. Eddie’s face would have flashed with that anger again at something she said and it would have ended the way it always did, Shannon’s nails leaving a trail down his back and her mouth sucking a bruise into his skin). “Morning, Eddie.” Harvey greeted kindly. 

Shannon shook herself. She was happy, she was going to marry the most wonderful man, she had her son back (on Eddie’s terms, though. Shannon didn’t have Christopher so much as have time with him). “Morning.” Eddie waved, though, cordial and polite as always. Shannon could remember the way he used to touch her, soft hands on her hips as he walked by. He used to wrap himself around her, duck his nose into her shoulder and hold on while he woke up. 

He bypassed her completely and instead lingered over Christopher, pressing a kiss to the crown of his head and breathing in against his curls. 

What happened to the man she had married, she wondered. Where had she lost him? “Buenos días, bud.” Shannon gripped his cabinet handle tighter. 

She had always been jealous of the relationship Eddie had with Christopher. It was always so easy, so second nature with the two of them. Shannon had to work every second of every day to be a mother, to remember what it was she was supposed to be doing to keep Christopher happy and healthy and Eddie… Eddie just knew how to do it. And it didn’t make any sense to her, really! Eddie hadn’t had parents the way Shannon had - Ramon had been gone most of his childhood and Helena had thrust him into the role of man of the house much too early. He had always been good at it, though. Surprisingly tender even when Shannon had wanted him at his hardest. It only got worse one Christopher was born - Eddie was careful not to yell, he had cried the first time he had held him, Shannon had caught him singing Christopher to sleep, once, when he was on leave. He loved being a father and Christopher, obviously, adored having him as one. 

Christopher tipped his head back to rest it on Eddie’s chest, staring up at him like he always had - like Eddie was the hero in every story he ever made up. He beamed and leaned up, pressing his own kiss to the corner of Eddie’s scratchy, unshaven jaw (Shannon had always hated it when he looked like this. Unshaven, just rolled out of bed, face unwashed and hair still a mess. She preferred Eddie put together.). “Buenos días, dad!” 

That was another thing. Shannon hated the whole… Spanish thing. It was like they were trying to shove her out. When they were in Texas, Eddie and sisters would go on a whole rant in Spanish back and forth and Shannon would be left just trying to pick up on context clues. Helena had tried to translate what she could, and Sophia had always explained it after the matter. You could try to learn, Adriana had said with her nose in the air like always. Eddie had apologized, though, when Shannon had pointed out feeling left out of family conversations. 

Clearly, though, he was still insisting on teaching Christopher the language. She wondered if it bothered Eddie’s new partner too, or if Buck was perfect with that too. Shannon rolled her eyes at the thought, the man probably spoke Spanish himself. It was like Eddie had created him in a lab - young, tall, handsome, strong, stupid and yet, somehow, smart. She had noticed Eddie staring at certain kinds of men over the years, Buck certainly fit Eddie’s preference better than Shannon ever could. Eddie hugged Christopher from behind, smiled at him in a way that made a portion of her anger with him disappear, and rested his chin on Christopher’s bony shoulder. “¿Cómo era antes de que empezara a llover?” 

She scowled again. 

Of course. 

Eddie clearly wanted to ask Christopher something that she wouldn’t understand in order to keep their secrets. It was like he was plotting against her - Christopher fought her at every corner, he didn’t seem all that interested in doing anything but argue with Harvey, and if she had to hear one more time about just how great Eddie’s boyfriend was she was going to wring her own neck. “It was okay. We didn’t get smores, though.” Christopher explained. 

Eddie frowned and clocked Christopher’s disappointment immediately. “We can make some with bisabuela?” 

“In the backyard?” 

“Or we can make them in the oven here.” Christopher smiled excitedly and hummed, his little body shaking with excitement. 

Shannon closed the cabinet a little too hard and opened the next one - full of plates and ceramic bowls that were all mismatched and clearly second hand (but a good brand of second hand, she noted. The kind that could be microwaved and put in the oven if needed without even chipping the paint. Eddie’s family didn’t use those.). “Shannon,” Eddie called to her with that edge to her voice that told her that he was starting to get frustrated with her. She frowned at it - frustrated at her? She hadn’t even done anything yet but try and feed their child. “I’ll make breakfast.”

Shannon almost laughed. “You can’t cook.” She smirked over her shoulder at him. 

The last time Eddie had tried to cook he had managed to undercook chicken after leaving it in the oven for half an hour. Eddie rolled his eyes at her and something like a sharp satisfaction spiked in her belly. He was annoyed, good. “Dad makes eggs!” Christopher defended with a strong frown. “And… and crepes with bisabuela.” 

Bisabuela. Isabel Diaz had always been Eddie’s biggest enabler. She called him pet names and kissed his cheeks and pulled him into tight, long hugs. Isabel had told Shannon, very seriously, that Eddie was special. That he had a special heart that deserved to be taken care of. That he was soft, and that softness was his strength. Shannon had always been… uneasy around the woman. It was like she could see right through her and was just waiting for Shannon to make a mistake. “You can always have cereal.” Eddie said dryly, standing up and nudging her out of the way and towards the table. 

Her skin burned where his arm had touched hers. It had been… a long time since Eddie had touched her and things between them had always felt like a raging fire. It was an addictive feeling, even if Harvey’s hand on her wrist felt calm and cooling. “I thought you would have bought more.” Because his cabinets had been nearly empty, his refrigerator had been full of health food and pineapple juice, his freezer with meats and meatless substitutions. 

“It’s not like we expected company.” Eddie countered and grabbed the eggs out of the refrigerator, scowling at the milk like they had personally insulted him. 

Shannon could feel it, the fire growing between them, threatening to come to a head. She wondered how it would blow up, now that the bedroom wasn’t an option for them. “Harvey doesn’t like eggs.” She stuck her chin in the air and said. 

“Then he can have cereal.” Dismissive. 

Shannon bristled in frustration. Eddie had gotten so boring over the years. He had stopped arguing with her a week before she had left, but when she had shown back up he had shown her that he still had that passion inside of him. 

She wanted to taste it again. All of him was hers, he had vowed that a long time ago. It didn’t matter what a piece of paper said, anymore. He had belonged to her since they were twelve. He could have his fun, but he’d be back. He would always come back. “He -.” Harvey’s hand covered over Shannon’s shoulder. 

“It’s okay, Shannon.” He said with a bright, cordial smile. “I don’t mind cereal.” 

Shannon’s building excitement faded when Eddie turned back around, his face carefully expressionless.  “Cereal’s on the fridge.” He said with a nod and turned towards the oven. 

Something in her stirred. Anger, annoyance, arousal. 

Eddie was always so much more fun when he decided to play petty. 

Shannon carefully sat down beside Harvey with a small smirk. Oh, if he wanted to play, they could play. 

[synthy-sizer]

You sit at your desk and other students steadily trickle in, some still chatting. You can't say you're too interested, though. You just sit quietly and unpack your backpack. You carefully pull out your pencil case and notebook and sit them on your desk. Your teacher doesn't take long after that to arrive and the class naturally settles down as she sits at her desk and greets you, then starts taking names.

"Sofia Gardener," she asks? You put your hand up. "Present." She nods and ticks your name off the list and continues down. You sit and wait and fiddle with your pencil. Eventually she wraps up the list and stands up. "Today we're going to continue learning about Luna's history and how we were blessed as a people to be free of Otherside's corruption, and to do that we're going to step out of the classroom and I'll show you all the murals in our halls and teach you about them. Make sure to bring your notebooks and pencils so that you can study the material later." She walks to the door and the students all file into line. You follow suit and grab your notebook, tucking a pencil above your ear.

One by one you're ferried out into the hall and brought to the front of the school. Your teacher stands behind the first image in the mural and your group clusters into a small group in front of it. "This is where everything began," she starts, gesturing at the planet portrayed in colored tiles on the floor. It's a beautiful, lush planet covered in nothing but blues and greens. "We were created by God here, in Eden, with all of God's other creations, including the angels." She points at the edges of the planet which are surrounded by Angelic figures dressed in all white robes. "The angels were supposed to help God create and oversee the universe, but the first 9 tried to rebel, led by their figurehead, Lucifer."

As she speaks she walks backwards and gestures at the next mural, depicting 9 figures with black wings, albeit still wearing white. The cluster of students follows suit, maintaining distance and allowing the mural to remain in view. "Lucifer and the fallen angels spread their corruption throughout Eden, attempting to demonstrate humanity's fallibility and the failure of God's sense of morals. Much of humanity surrendered to temptation and became corrupt." The mural beneath her feet depicts the planet, once lush and green, now being changed to black and red. "However, some of humanity stayed strong and resisted the influence of Lucifer, and stood as proof against their morale. God rewarded this faith and strength of will by sparing them when the rest of the corrupt humanity and the fallen angels were smited, and Eden became our world, Luna. And the smited ones went…" she points down at the final mural, depicting 2 planets orbiting each other, "here. Otherside."

You look down at the image depicted in tiles. Luna has remained colorful and bright, but in contrast, Otherside is depicted in blacks and grays with small hints of brown and tan. "We retain our faith and redouble our wills every day to thank God for his kindness, and to ensure that we don't waste the holy land gifted to us. That's why we have to strive to be good above all else. Does anyone have any questions?" You continue to stare down at the mural and write notes as someone asks, "what happened to the people who went to Otherside?" "We don't know exactly," your teacher says. "Our books say that they attempted to build their own society on Otherside, but we simply can't check to see if that's true." "Why can't we see," another asks? "If we showed interest in Otherside it's possible that it would only be so long before its influence reached us again. God gifted us a peaceful life and spared us because of our refusal to listen to Lucifer. That's why it's important not to investigate it." You look down at your notebook and realize just how little of your notebook pages are covered in notes, and instead have been dominated by doodles. You stare at them for a moment. You're so lost in thought that you jump a little when the lunch bell rings. "Ah, time for lunch break everyone. Meet me back at the classroom in 30 minutes," your teacher says.

NEXT

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[axgmented]

a small chocobo toy plushie , meant to hang on a person's keychain , was placed atop the child's head. it rolled to the side and nearly fell awkwardly , thus it was picked up and placed in front of her face instead. it wasn't anything of great worth , and sephiroth did not follow the gesture with any words.

@saishuu-heiki

the small experiment has been staring at a computer screen for nearly seven hours now; images flickered across the screen of all types: numbers, animals, codes, places, and people. a memory endurance test, they called it. Her lips parted, chewing on the soft wood of the pencil as those brows furrowed in concentration. Her eyes hurt, drying out in the cold room because she was too afraid to blink. If she blinked, she could miss something. The paper beside her was filled with random equations, shorthand scratches of a potential pattern the images were showing up in; her back hurt from the hunched position. Without realisation, she had curled closer to the screen and those red eyes scanned haphazardly over the electronic images flickering and passing by within seconds.

She doesn't hear the door open, too immersed in trying to finish her assignment. She was getting hungry, throat burning almost as intensely as her eyes from thirst. She feels something sit on the crown of her head and Rem jumps with a startled noise in her little throat. The pencil left her mouth, quickly turning in her small grasp with the point towards the intruder in her room. She had every intention of driving it home, of puncturing his thigh with the writing impliment but the sound of his boots, the leather of his gloves cuased her to pause.

Lashes flutter, finally does she blink and it hurts. Her face screws up in pain, quickly closing and opening her eyes as tears shimmer; she wasn't crying. Her eyes were quickly trying to moisten themselves. She immediately puts the pencil down, a faint flush on the tip of her ears and she hopes he isn't upset with her almost-attack. It was just instinct, he must've understood. bleary gaze turns to stare at the gift, confusion colouring her pale face. What was this? Her hands hesitate, looking around the room and staring hard at the two-way glass she knows they were observing her from. Was this a test? Was she supposed to deny it? It was a distraction, but… he was the general. The one they all looked up to.

Rem can't help the little smile that pulls at her mouth and ever so carefully does she try to hide her excitement. Sure, it was small but she's never had anyone give her anything that didn't line up with her daily life of training, of experimentation, of medicine and injections; her fingertips trace over the soft material in awe. She only knows scratchy blankets and starched gowns. Eager to focus on something other than the screen before her, which was still flashing images of war, of the planet, of soldiers, of animals-- Rem lifts her gaze from the dangling plush to the face of the general and then back to the gift he was holding out for her.

Carefully, she takes the keychain from his grasp, where little fingers with blisters forming gently brush against his gloved hand. The toy is slightly large in her grasp but it fits comfortably; her thumb strokes over the soft tummy of the toy and her face brightens. It was yellow, like the flowers that sometimes sit in the vase of the mean scientist; yellow like the sun she hardly ever got to witness-- just brief glances as it set below the windows and painted the hallways in its golden glitter. Her chest feels tight and there's a strange emotion that swirls inside of her. She knows she won't be able to keep this-- they'll find it during a bed check, rip it from her and punish her for having the distraction in her possession.

Maybe he can scare them into letting her keep it.

He turns to leave, or maybe to just get comfortable in her room and immediately, she jumps from the chair and ignores the way her lower body screams in agony. no doubt her legs are asleep, her spine giving a soft series of cracks and her hip echoing a loud pop as she turns from the chair and flings herself at his legs. She's trembling, her little hand tightening around the toy and her face presses into his thigh while her other hand grips his belt. She's hugging him, despite the tremors and trembling beneath the sweater and leggings they dressed her in. She hurts, but the toy is enough to keep her going.

"thank you."

[musingsofamercurialmind]

Reminder: The Sun Is Always Rising.

My ex broke up with me exactly two weeks ago. It has been horribly painful sometimes, but wonderfully okay other times. I miss him terribly today, but I also want to remind myself that there is happiness after him, too. My life, my joy, has always extended far beyond his reaches. It doesn't get to end with his departure. As I return to being my own first priority, I've being paying attention to the parts of my life that make me appreciate it, no matter how big or small.

Here are some wonderful things that have happened since we ended things:

I took myself on a thrifting date, and I connected with a stranger who loves to thrift by herself as much as I do. she offered me a bunch of her scrapbooking supplies as we chatted in an aisle, and she left the parking lot on a sick motorcycle. I think she's really cool.

I got to take my time in the thrift store, appreciating all the details of the people who have come before me. Among those memories, I found two dresses that fit me so perfectly, it's like they were made for me. One was handmade by its previous owner, and the other was a simple, but stunning black dress I've affectionately dubbed my revenge dress (I was supposed to go to a formal with him this weekend, but I will not go where I am unwelcome, even if I look hot as fuck).

I was playing piano in my campus music building one night. A guy I didn't recognize opened my practice room door and asked me if I was playing tolerate it by taylor swift. I nodded in the affirmative, and he said "dude, that's sick! keep it up!" (he recognized it solely on the chorus chords! I hadn't even played the eras tour intro that night, which is what I normally start with). It took me by such surprise that I wasn't able to respond with the amount of appreciation I have for those 6 words. I was having one of the most miserable evenings of my life, and he turned it all around for a while. I'm not particularly religious, but I'm convinced he was sent to me by someone who knew I needed it. I hope I see him around again.

I wore my AFC Richmond kit/jersey one day, and I had at least 3 people compliment me on it. I LOVE when people compliment that shirt, because it means they've seen the show too! (that show means an indescribable amount to me)

I got to sing beautiful music with some people I love a whole lot, 3 different times! that's always a spirits-lifter

A girl in one of my classes asked to borrow a pencil, and then told me she asked me because I always look very put together. I'm such a type b person, so this was unexpected, but very appreciated

I reconnected with a girl from high school. we were kinda frenemies then, but she started reposting breakup tiktoks around the same time I got dumped, so I reached out, and now we send each other support every day :')

I got to watch my not-so-little brother perform his heart out, and he was amazing. I'm so proud of him. I'll always be proud of him.

I've been getting tons of compliments on my outfits! honestly, i've just been trying a little harder to build outfits I can be excited about wearing every day, and it seems to be working!

speaking of trying to be myself, I GOT MY FIRST PIERCING!!!!! my right helix! I've always wanted tons of ear piercings, ever since I saw the pretty summer camp counselors have them as a little kid (gay awakening or jealous admiration? both? who's to say). It feels like I've taken a good baby step into becoming who I want to be!!

I finally vacuumed my bedroom, scrubbed my shower, and tidied up my crafting storage!

I've gotten to spend a lot of time with one of my best friends. she means so much to me; I know we'll be in each other's lives forever. I adore her.

a professor told me something that I think I'll live by from now on: "everything is a skill, not an ability." I can do it all! I just have to be brave enough to try!

starbucks baristas wrote an "!" after my name like 3 times this week. that makes me feel special

there were sooooo many dogs on campus recently. they're my campus celebrities

I befriended someone new, and they're really cool!

found a new cat instagram to follow!

And that's only some of it. I'm confident there's more beautiful things that've slipped my mind. do not get me wrong, I spent all day today laying in bed sobbing. that bright, poignant aching that only comes with heartbreak has been tireless in its attachment to me. BUT! the world is still moving all around me, so I'm making myself look for the beauty, even if I'm not ready to participate yet.

TL;DR: heartbreak fucking sucks, but there is ALWAYS a reason to feel a little less terrible. you just have to be brave enough to look for it! the sun will always rise again.

sending you love & light, always.