#it’s been about 3 years of trying to make payments and get help and not being able to

[thefaultinoursprinkles]

okay just waiting to get approved for this 401k loan so I can pay off my fucking car

[schluttforschlatt]

This Kitty Off the Chain (NSFW)

I haven't written smut in YEARSSSSSS but i wanted to give u a lil treat <3 <3 <3

✴︎MINORS DO NOT INTERACT✴︎

wc: 3.5k

warnings: fem!reader, language, smut (obviously) -munch!schlatt, fingering, tiny bit of size k!nk

You thought about the price of the room the elevator ride up to it. Four thousand dollars. You made a mental list of things that would change your life for that price. Down payment on a car. Brand new PC tower and fixtures. Rent for the next three months. Hell, a trip to the doctors office for that back pain you’ve had for years. And yet, that was how much one singular night’s stay in this particular room cost. You watched as the elevator doors opened, and followed behind the two taller men you were with.

The younger of the two lead the way, explaining the amenities and trying to reason with the price. Trevor, the slightly older of the two, had a video camera at the ready and was nodding as the first man, Schlatt, stopped in front of the door to the room and swiped a card.

“You two are about to feel so fucking poor.” He joked, pushing the door open and inviting you and Trevor inside.

You weren't quite sure why Schlatt had invited you on this trip with him, but you prayed that by the time your visit was over, you’d have an answer.

For the past few months, the two of you had been growing closer as friends. It started with him asking for help editing clips from a trucking sim stream to create shorts. He wanted outside eyes to pick the best moments without the bias of what he considered funny, so you made the drive to his place and let him teach you the basics of his editing software. You’d bantered back and forth with each other while splicing scenes together to make clips. Schlatt had filmed a handful of video intros while you edited, and you couldn’t help but sneak glances at him anytime he turned his persona on. It’s kinda hot, you thought, watching a man who always spoke politely and softly to you one-on-one flip a switch and become a loud and boisterous asshole.

You would shiver anytime he stood behind you, hands on the back of the chair you were in as he checked to see your progress. You swore to yourself, vowing to push any feelings down and away, and not let them interfere with your growing friendship.

Enjoying the work you had done, Schlatt invited you back several more times to edit more shorts for his channels. You thoroughly liked spending time with him like this, parallel playing in comfortable silence. Occasionally, he would put his hands on your shoulders and squeeze as if giving a shoulder massage or gentle pat on the back, which was always unexpected but never not appreciated.

The editing and clipping lead to him asking you to help with filming, going over the basics of camera operation and teaching you how to get his good side. Filming lead to you helping him out with various projects, having gained enough trust from him to voice ideas and opinions that you thought would improve the project or make it flop. Often he would place a gentle hand on the small of your back while walking around a location with you, leaning down close to your face to better hear you. It would make your heart race anytime you felt his breath close to your cheek, and anytime a hand ghosted over your hip you thought you would explode.

Pretty soon after, you had become his shadow, following Schlatt everywhere he went, and with time, you noticed more confident and intentional touches from Schlatt. He’d wrap an arm around your shoulder while watching a movie on his couch or reach out to hold your hand while walking. Every touch felt electric, and every time you hung out you felt tension grow.

The moment that had changed everything for you was during a trip to the grocery store. Schlatt had asked you to accompany him and help pick out ingredients for meal prepping. You had taken a few nutrition and health classes and he thought you’d be able to help him put together healthy meals. You joked with him the ride there about his tendency to latch onto junk food, and decided to be a little bold and make a comment about semen.

“I bet your cum tastes like battery acid,” your statement caught him and yourself off guard. He scoffed and glanced over at you, taking his right hand off the steering wheel. “You eat like shit, you need to eat some pineapple or something.” His hand came to rest on your left knee as you finished your sentence, electricity shooting through your body. He gave a devious smirk to you.

“Oh?” He says pulling into the parking lot. He removes his hand to put the car in park, but then places it back on your leg, this time on your thigh, inching closer to your core. “Well, I bet you taste pretty sweet.” Your eyes were wide as saucers as a blush washed over your face. You shifted your gaze to your hands placed in your lap. Schlatt lifted the hand resting on your thigh before bringing it back down with a soft slap. The sensation shocked you and made you jump, but at the same time turned you on just a tiiiiiiny bit.

“C’mon, I wanna get this over with as fast as possible.”

That was two weeks ago, and since then the teasing only grew more and more common.

You watched as Schlatt set his bags down by the hotel’s door, snapping back to reality.

As Schlatt turned various lights on you couldn’t help but stare at everything in awe. The entry area was huge, with a large table and chairs, and you were envious at how spacious it was. You ran a finger along the hardwood as you followed your friends further into the suite, eyes darting between the expensive looking art on the walls and the wall-mounted television displaying a slideshow of the hotel’s garden.

“Holy shit, look at this bed,” you heard Schlatt call out, turning your attention towards him. He sat down on the edge and bounced a few times, laughing. “Shits not even against the wall and barely squeaks.” He continues laughing as he stands up and beckons Trevor to follow him into the closet and bathroom behind the false wall.

You stayed behind, feet planted in the bedroom and mind racing with naughty thoughts.

“Maybe tonight’s the night.” You mumbled to yourself, shaking your head to rid of the impure images stirring up.

Your small group finished your self guided tour around the room, and Trevor and Schlatt began setting up to film. You separated yourself from the boys, deciding to settle down on one of the soft couches and give your legs a break.

You watched Trevor follow Schlatt around, zooming in on various features that only a rich asshole would think to have. Who the fuck needs a flashlight in a closet? Fucking yuppies.

The filming concluded with the boys clinking together cans of beer, showing off the view from the balcony. You had excused yourself to the hall to make a phone call, checking in with your best friend to let them know you safely made it to the hotel. You knocked on the door, hoping one of the boys would hear you, only to be surprised that Trevor had opened it, his bags in hand.

“Oh! Are you not staying with us? I thought Jay said the three of us would share the room.” You stared up at him with a quizzical look, confused about this deviation from the plan you were informed of. Trevor gave you a sheepish grin, motioning for you to enter the room.

“Nah, I’m staying down the street,” you switch spots with him, you now holding the door open for the man. “Try not to have too much fun. We’ve got an early day with the boys tomorrow.” Trevor winked at you before walking down the hall to the elevator. You let the door shut behind you as you made your way back over to the couch you previously occupied. Schlatt was now sitting there, one leg resting on the table in front of it, phone pulled close to his face as he typed away. You cleared your throat and plopped down next to him.

“Why’d Trevor leave?” You asked him, plopping yourself down next to the man. He looked up from his phone to smile at you, locking the device and setting it on the arm of the couch.

“Oh, he didn’t wanna share a room. Somethin’ ‘bout missin’ his girl, probably gonna jack off on FaceTime with ‘er.” You laughed, a little caught off guard by his response, but also a little distracted by the arm that had come up around your shoulders. The touch made you shiver.

“‘Ya wanna watch a movie or somethin’ doll?” Jay asks. You nod and he brings the remote up, scanning through the channels. The nickname caused the hairs on the back of your neck to stick up. Pet names had been new between you two, and every time he used one, you had to fight the urge to climb onto his lap and shove your tongue down his throat. You crossed one leg over the other and squeezed them tight together, an attempt at self control.

He settles on some shitty 90’s action flick that doesn’t hold your attention. Maybe this was intentional, you thought, pressing yourself closer into his side. You don’t notice the way his breath hitches in his throat at your movement, but you do notice when the arm around your shoulders slinks down, hand now gently resting at your hip. You try to focus on the film playing out, but the tension between you and the man next to you is much more distracting.

About ten minutes in, you feel Schlatt shift. You subtly try to glance over at him, only to be distracted by the growing problem in his lap that he is trying to cover with a pillow. You pretend to not notice what he’s attempting to fix and instead bring a hand up to place on a chest, only to have the large hand on your hip squeeze gently.

“Oh.” Schlatt whispered, and you could feel his heart rate pick up pace under your palm. You swallowed a growing lump in your throat and said a silent prayer before speaking up yourself.

“Is this okay?” You whisper back at him, too nervous to bring your eyes up to his. You feel him nod, his eyes not leaving the television screen, and melt a little more into his side. Your mind was racing, trying to think of something sly to say when he cleared his throat.

“Um… can we… uuhhh…” you look up at him and notice how red his cheeks and ears had gotten, not helping your own growing desire to see this man flustered and falling apart. You took a deep breath and put on a brave face.

“Can we what, Jay?” You ask, hand boldly coming up to rest on his cheek, pulling his attention to you instead of the screen. His eyes flicked from your eyes to lips, then back to your eyes. Okay, maybe we are getting somewhere.

“Would it be weird if we, uhh….” He trailed off, bringing his left hand to rub at the back of his neck. “Cuddled? I guess?” His voice was quiet, almost mouse like. You couldn’t help but giggle at him, motioning for him to move.

“I’d be more that fine with that, Jay.” Your words came out more seductive that you had intended, but as he readjusted himself and the pillow slipped off his lap, you couldn’t help but notice the way his… not-so-little friend twitched.

Once he was settled, you clambered back over to him, tucking yourself into his side. His arm came to rest around you once more, hand placed halfway between your hip and ass.

The two of you returned your eyes back to the television, but it was clear that neither were paying attention to whatever the hell this film was.

About twenty minutes after switching positions, you noticed Schlatt’s hand slowly pushing the hem of your shirt up, fingers ghosting over the skin of your stomach. You squeezed your legs together tightly, crossing your ankles, and couldn’t help but let out a gasp as one of his digits traced over a particular sensitive patch of skin. Your heart began pounding inside your chest, and you started thinking of ways to excuse yourself to go take care of your now soaked panties. You felt Schlatt’s hand rub back over your hip and squeeze, only adding to your problem.

C’mon, you’re a big girl. You can only do this two ways, you thought. Obviously there’s some sort of attraction here if he’s trying to hide his boner and you’re wetter than the fucking sea. Either get up and take a cold shower, possibly making things awkward between you guys, or man the fuck up and make a move, which could also possibly make things awkward between you. You understood that the logical side of you would probably be the better bet and make this less awkward that it needed to be, but the horny side was shouting over the logical, winning this yelling match. It’s been months since anyone’s touched you, and you’ve always wondered what he was like in bed anyways. Grow a pair and make the fucking move. You swallowed hard, kicking your plan into action.

“Schlatt,” your voice wavered nervously.

“Yeah?” His sounded much the same. Now or never.

“Can I…” you trailed off, finding the strength to speak your peace. You sat up, brushing a few strands of hair out of your face, turning to make eye contact with him. This is it, bitch. “Can I… can I try something?” You notice the way his pupils widen and Adam’s apple bob at your words, waiting for a response. He nods, eyes not leaving yours.

Letting your body take control, you swing a leg over his hips, straddling the man before leaning down to whisper in his ear.

“You can stop me at any point,” you flick your tongue over his earlobe, eliciting a small moan from the man, only fueling you. “I won’t be offended.” You feel two large hands latch onto your hips as you begin to place wet kisses down his neck, facial hair tickling your nose. You work your way across his neck, left to right, letting your hands wander under his tee-shirt, slowly pushing the fabric up towards his shoulders. You feel one of his hands leave your hip, and you pull his shirt up a bit as if asking him to take it off. He removes the other hand and obliges, returning them back to your body. You push back a bit to drink this new view in, taking a finger to trace over the patches of hair covering his chest before latching your lips to his collarbone. You continue to work your lips and tongue across his body, only stopping when you feel a hand shake through your hair, tugging it into a makeshift ponytail. You stop, eyes shooting up to his.

“Sweetheart,” his voice is raspy, almost lost. For a moment you’re worried you’ve crossed a line. “This isn’t very fair t’me. Wanna change that?” He tugs up the hem of your shirt as if asking for permission, only for you to whip it over your head before he can do it himself. Before the shirt hits the floor, his hands are grabbing at your chest and you have to thank yourself for not wearing a bra today. He pulls you forward, latching his own lips to your neck now, kissing and licking his way to your nipples while pushing your breasts together. You can’t help but moan as he sucks on the tissue, hands exploring your tits. He pulls his mouth off with a “pop”.

“You have no fuckin’ idea how long I’ve been wanting to do this,” He lets go of your chest, hands snaking down to your thighs. He hoists you up off of his lap briefly before standing himself, now carrying you further into the room. “You’re like a fucking succubus, y’know?” With a few strides, he’s throwing you down onto the bed before reaching down to unzip his shorts. As soon as he undoes the button, you reach out to stop him.

“Wait- can I do that?” Before he can respond, you’re sliding off the bed and sinking down to your knees, hands grabbing at the skin above his knees. You lean forward, eyes locking directly with his, and take the zipper between your teeth, tugging the metal down. His eyes roll back and he moans, as a hand once again grabs ahold of your hair, tugging it back.

“Jesus fucking Christ, you’re gonna be the death of me.” He mutters, stepping out of the shorts and letting them drop to the floor after pulling your hair, guiding you away to let the garment fall. Before he could get another word in, your hands latch onto the elastic of his boxers as you lick your lips. He tugs on your hair again, pulling you back.

“If I remember correctly, you said my cum probably tastes like battery acid, and yet here you are, desperately begging for my dick,” he sounds smug and has a smirk painting his lips, which is doing nothing but turning you on even more. He pulls you up, still by the hair, before letting go of it and shoving you down on the bed by your shoulders. “I don’t think that’s very fair that you get to make fun of me then try and make me cum, princess. I’ve been starving all day, let me have dessert first, yeah?”

He has one hand fondling your breasts as the other tugs down your leggings, the cold air of the room sending a tingle to your core via the soaked lace thong now exposed to him. He tosses the article of clothing behind him and crouches down to kneel between your legs, whistling at the view.

“Did you wear these for me?” He talks down to you while slipping a finger under the waistband, snapping the elastic against your skin before leaning down to press a kiss to your hip. You whine and buck your hips up, anything to feel some sort of relief. Schlatt chuckles at you, and it sounds pitiful.

“Please, Jay, please.” You whine again, writhing.

“Please, what, doll?” He teases, hot breath hovering by your belly button.

“Please just tou-“ you cut yourself off with a moan, feeling the man in front of you lick a stripe up your slit, facial hair tickling your thighs. Your hands latch onto the thick strands of his hair, pulling him back down to your pussy. You feel him move the thin lace with his teeth before his tongue makes direct contact with your clit. He hums into you, dragging his tongue through your folds before pursing his lips around your clit once again.

You can’t help it when your legs wrap around his head, and from the groans coming from the larger man, he didn’t mind one bit. He brought arm up to hold you down, resting it across your lower stomach, while snaking his other hand between your legs, teasing at your labia before slipping inside you.

“Fuck,” you moaned, throwing your head back. Never in a million years did you think this would become a reality. You had always assumed Schlatt would rather be on the receiving end of head, but here in this moment, you wanted to thank any past lovers of his for teaching him how to use his mouth for something other than snarky comments. “Jay, I- I’m-“ you moaned again, eyes shutting tightly as his fingers curled up inside you just so. You've only just started, but with the stress from the past week of travel, you were coming undone in record time.

“Jus’ fuckin’ cum, needa fuckin’ taste you,” he barked out, barely lifting himself off of you to speak. Between the pressure on your stomach, his long fingers reaching spots you’ve never been able to, along with his tongue and lips on your clit, you couldn’t hold on much longer. You felt a familiar pressure building inside of you, causing you to cry out louder than before.

“I’m gonna- I’m go-,” you felt his tongue pick up speed in tandem with his fingers and you let go, shaking as the most intense orgasm you’ve had in a long while rocked your world. You were crying out, tears spilling from your eyes as he continued his magic, working you through the height of it all. You felt him withdraw his fingers and take a deep breath once your own had steadied out, and you were fearful to make eye contact with him. You settled for staring at his soaked shoulder, following it as he stood up and hovered over you.

“I’m so sorry, Jay I should’ve said something bef-“ you were cut off by his lips crashing into yours, the taste and slick of your arousal very present on his lips and mustache. He pulled back and rested his forehead against yours, and you couldn’t help but finally make eye contact with him. His eyes were half lidded and looked awestruck.

“I coulda’ been makin’ ya’ squirt like that for months? Fuck, I’ve been missing out.” He leaned back in to kiss you again, bringing a sticky hand up to your cheek. You pulled back to take a deep breath before sliding your hand down his chest again and clearing your throat.

“So, um… you want me to give you a blowjob now or…?” You trailed off and Schlatt scoffed, moving your hand to the front of his boxers where a cold wet spot had formed.

“I’m not opposed, but you’re gonna have t’ give me like twenty minutes,” you looked up at him confused before he continued with a sheepish grin. “I came in my boxers the second you started tuggin’ on my hair.”

alright chat, how we feeling about this one??? feedback is always appreciated :))))))

[band--psycho]

Poly!141 x Reader -Stop The Wedding (Part 2)

I just wanted to say a huge thank you to everyone who read Part 1! I hope you all enjoy this part - there are more on the way soon! Read Part 3 / Part 4 / Part 5 / Part 6 / Part 7 / Part 8 / Part 9 / Part 10 / Part 11 / Part 12 / Part 13

Please be kind, reblogs are always welcome and greatly appreciated! Thank you for all the continued support 💛

Requests are open so if you have any ideas/requests, you're more than welcome to send them over (thank you to everyone who's requested a story so far, I'm working my way through them!)

I do not give permission for any of my works to be copied or translated onto this site or other platforms!

Warnings: Pettines, hurt, mentions of breakups, feelings of anger

COD Modern Warfare Masterlist / Join My Taglist

It was unusual for the coffee shop to be this quiet on a Friday afternoon, but considering how manic the rest of the day had been, you couldn’t deny that you were thankful for the reprieve. 

There was a quiet lull around you; just the soft murmurs of people's conversations and the familiar hiss that came from the espresso machine as you cleaned it. 

The little bell at the top of the door rang, signaling a customer's arrival; you quickly finished up cleaning the machine before turning to face the customer who’d just arrived with your signature “here to help” smile. 

A smile that very quickly faltered the second your brain processed who it was that stood in front of you. 

Your ex…well one of them..

John Price. 

Captain John Price… 

He looked different, in his eyes mainly…he looked tired, much more tired than you’d ever seen him, even after he’d come back from his deployments.

Mind you, the last time you’d seen him or any of the others for that matter, was two and a half years ago, on what had been one of the worst days of your life. 

“Hey sweetheart,” he said, the familiarity of his voice and the nickname he used to call you, making your heart feel heavy for a brief moment. 

The man standing in front of you; along with the others, Simon, Kyle and Johnny, they’d once been your world. 

You’d loved them. 

You  thought they’d loved you too, that was until John ended things with you; all of the others stood in silence, watching as John broke your heart. 

That was the last time you’d seen or heard from any of them. 

Now, here John stood. 

You considered calling your colleague over to serve John seeing as she was cleaning the tables of previous customers; but you quickly realized that John would probably attempt to talk to you more in that scenario. 

Part of you also thought about channeling all of your pent up emotions into a slap; though that thought soon disappeared too…it wouldn’t be good for business. 

So you simply took a breath and forced a smile onto your face. 

There was no point in making a scene or being rude to John, no matter how much part of you wanted to be. 

You needed to remain professional. 

He was just another customer, that was all. 

“What can I get for you today?” You greeted with a perkiness in your voice that made John raise an eyebrow. 

His eyes stayed fixed on yours for a few moments; before glancing down at your hand. 

Your left hand. 

The one that your beautiful engagement ring was on. 

You remained silent, trying to keep the forced smile on your lips. 

That ring symbolised that you’d moved on with your life. 

You didn’t owe him any other type of explanation. 

“Just a coffee,” he answered eventually, the hurt of your actions clear as crystal in his blue eyes. 

You nodded, taking payment quickly, before beginning to prepare his order; coffee, you knew exactly how John took his coffee, how could you not? 

Whilst you were making the order, you couldn’t help but remember the countless times John had praised how you made his coffee. 

You’d always blush and say that you didn’t do anything special to it; but that never stopped his praise. 

Coffee, a dash of milk and one sugar.

That was the way you’d always made his coffee. 

Which is why you purposely ignored your muscle memory and made a very milky coffee with three sugars in. 

Was it petty? 

Yes. 

Did you care? 

Absolutely not. 

You put the lid on the takeaway coffee cup, hoping that John would take that as a hint to leave. 

“Have a nice day,” you smiled politely at him, handing him his coffee. 

“Sweetheart-” John began, his fingers brushing lightly over yours as he took the cup. 

His actions caught you completely off guard; and you quickly moved your hand away from his, unable to stop yourself from glaring at him. 

‘The fucking nerve of this man,’ you thought to yourself; thankfully being saved by a customer who wanted to order another drink before you could say anything to John. 

You focused on the order that you were making until you heard the bell above the door chime; only then did you allow yourself to look at the door to see John walking away from the coffee shop. 

You couldn’t stop the relieved sigh that fell from your lips; pushing away the slight yearning your heart felt from the brief touch of John's hand on yours.

Tagging:

@xacatalepsyx @mermaniaa @fangirlsfandomss @book-dragon03 @sunrise-willarive @amniotic115 @imdeadontheinside786 @asterionex @pinkyyoshi @yaradigital @euriiverse @eternallyvenus @littlejoyfulthings @s-void @rivwritesiguess @lilyalone @mrstelford @rabbittmoons @bookworm1767 @salemlovespies @amongthe141 @sleepybarnesbby @z-wantstowrite @maryrhodalouandted @uraeus56 @skipping-throughlife @echo9821 @nanamisfootrest @tribbisweetdear

[roebeanstalk]

6/2 Update: Security deposit has been paid!! Thank you so much to everyone for the help 💚 I still have to pull together all of June rent for my current place which is $675. Thank you everyone for all of the help so far 💚

I’m asking for help with June rent, which is $675 and needs to be paid ASAP.

Cashapp https://cash.app/clawshot

venmo https://venmo.com/rmck89

ko-fi https://ko-fi.com/roebeanstalk

Any help at all is super appreciated. Every dollar adds up, and shares are so helpful too. I know that I’ve received so much help from people in the past and I can’t thank you all enough. I hope that this is the last of these that I have to do.

Needs:

June rent: $23/$675

Security Deposit: $495/495 Paid 💚

Bonus:

July rent (First month at new place): $495

Movers + Uhaul: $300-350

More info on my situation under the cut!

Thank you so, so so much.

I have a history of mental health issues, and as a result I have a very difficult time getting and maintaining employment. My mental health also impacts my ability to keep up with and complete freelance/commission work in a timely manner. While I have made some incredible steps forward lately thanks to the right combo of therapy, medication, and a support system, I am still not at a point where I am self-sufficient yet. I am getting there – and I am committed to keep trying no matter what.

Original post blurb, taken out of main post since deposit has been paid:

My landlord has decided not to move forward with me as a tenant due to my history with payment/mental health. While this is frustrating as heck, it’s allowed me to find a better, more affordable housing situation. I have signed a lease at a new place and move in July 1st!Once the deposit is paid, my space on the lease is officially secured and I am good to go. This is the main thing that I am looking for help with.

Why I need help:

This new housing situation is incredible for me – it’s a room in a quiet house with two other queer folk, and the rent is very affordable compared to my current situation. The new place is $485/month, the current place is $675/month. Even with utilities, my total overhead for shelter will cost less than rent at my current place. If I can secure my spot in this house and move forward, I see such a clear path forward for me in terms of self-improvement and self-sufficiency.

For the first time in 15 years, I feel like I can tackle the things ahead of me. If you’re able to help out I would really, really appreciate it.

What I’m doing:

I am job hunting for something that works well for my situation. With the cost of rent, I think that a part time job will be able to cover it. The process of getting a job is difficult for me, but I am committed to continuing to work at it.

On the art front, I have occasional comic coloring jobs that help me out. I also have commissions – I have finally been moving forward at a good rate and have been really happy with my work. In time, this will be able to be a more standard income route. I also have a Patreon that brings in about $65/month.

Cashapp https://cash.app/clawshot / venmo https://venmo.com/rmck89 / ko-fi https://ko-fi.com/roebeanstalk

Thank you so much for reading over all of this. Thank you to everyone who has helped with donations or kind words or reblogs. Thank you so much to every commissioner and customer who has been patient as hell with me on artwork, communication, and stickers. Thank you thank you thank you. Thanks to every single one of you I have been able to keep pushing myself forward, and I'm so happy to keep doing it and make good on everything. And eventually, give back to my community. I love you all so much, even though i don't know any of you that well. Thank youuuu. <3

[tender-rosiey]

girl dad — gojo satoru x f!reader

a/n: kinda inspired by the most adorable girl ever named saylor <3

sometimes, you feel like your husband was born to be a girl dad.

he always indulges her, and he even says that she is the second person he can’t say no to, the first one being you. it also helps that your husband is a man so confident in his masculinity that he doesn’t mind using a princess voice to play with his girl.

he doesn’t mind her trying a makeup kit on his face or getting him a skirt so he can be the ultimate princess to attend the tea parties.

of course, your daughter loves him to death.

you remember that one time satoru came home later than he had told her, and she sat down at the front door until he came. she also was so close to tearing up, so you pulled her into your embrace, and the both of you patiently waited for him.

when he came in, the big baby was about to tear up himself and pulled the both of you into one bone-crushing hug. it was a sweet moment that never leaves your mind.

now, though, her loving him so much doesn’t stop her from being a sometimes—unintentionally—savage 5 year old.

you remember that one time when you all went to play some soccer together.

your girl was so excited; she practically jumped out of her seat the moment you arrived. you were still setting the seating area up when your husband struck up a conversation with your dear daughter.

he was helping her put on her knee pads as he smiled, “you nervous, pretty?”

she quirked an eyebrow and quickly shook her head, “nope!”

“really?” he hummed then pouted, then started securing her shoelaces, “well, I am nervous.”

“why?”

he looked her in the eyes with a chuckle, “I don’t want to play bad in front of you and mommy.”

you roll your eyes and ruffle his hair, making him grin up at you, and the both of you await your daughter’s response.

she looked at him then nonchalantly said, “well, guess what? I saw you play yesterday and you played bad,” then she looked at you with a grimace, “really bad.”

satoru gasped, and looked at her incredulously, “what?! I did not!”

another thing is that she picks up anything and everything, and very quickly too. you have yet to decide whether it’s a good or bad thing. you do know that it provides a lot of comedy in this household though.

for example, one time they were playing nail salon together, and your daughter was the customer this time.

you were also another customer, but your very dedicated husband already finished your nails and gave you one hell of a message so you were resting on the side.

of course, he gets his payment later.

anyway, your husband, the worldwide famous nail tech, started working on her tiny hands. he is very concentrated even when he talks with her, “so you have a husband?”

your daughter nods, and he continues his inquiry, “is he nice?”

she pauses for a moment, before gasping with a deep frown, “he’s mean!”

he blinks before grinning, “ooo, spill the tea,” he picks another color and continues painting her nails. you glance at her nails, and—surprisingly—he is doing a wonderful job. you do remember that he told you he can be good at anything he tries.

guess it wasn’t just some talk to woo you.

she stares at the void, “I will spill tea on him.”

“woah,” satoru’s head snaps towards you and he looks concerned and kind of proud? he is probably happy she can stand up for herself. he hums, “what did he do?”

she shakes her with disappointment then sighs, “doesn’t help with the house.”

“jeez, what a bad husband.”

“mhm! bad!”

as much as she is a daddy’s girl, however, she is also a mommy’s girl.

you had went out with your friends for a couple of hours, leaving satoru and d/n to fend for themselves. you came back to the house looking as clean as ever.

you breathed a sigh of relief as you looked at your husband and daughter standing side to side.

satoru pressed a soft kiss to your cheek then lightly nudged your daughter, whispering in her ear, “tell mommy that I’ve been good.”

she nods lightly then looks at you, “I’ve been good, mommy!” she beams.

he pouts, “nooo! tell mommy that daddy has been good.”

with a giggle, she hugs your leg and presses a kiss to your thigh—the only place she can reach—, “I’ve been so good!”

he plops on the ground with a whine, “d/n!”

she frowns then looks him up and down. she pulls gently on your shirt and then looks up at you, “daddy’s been bad.”

“d/n!”

what you don’t know is that they’re going to do their best to not show you d/n’s room that is full of sparkles, glitter, and way too many plushies and outfits thrown around. the devils do team up on you every now and then.

taglist: @magenta-cat-drawingss @pompompurin1028 @scul-pted @requiem626k @nameless-shrimp @shinys-bsd-world-1 @sonder-paradise @ravenina14 @jessbeinme15s-notebook @todorokichills @ginneko @missrown @shrynkk @simplyxsinned @beautiful-is-boring @starlostlaiba @izukus-gf @irethepotato @thekaylahub @dazaisbloodybandages @aeanya @sweetcloudsimp @moon-catto @the-midnightskies @pianopuppygirl @gojosblackqueen @kryscent @kunikida-simp @whoami-72 @mx-0-child @fiona782 @kisakitwister @imjustasimpxd @psychopotatomeme @dreamcastgirl99 @watyousayin @doobiebochana @laylasbunbunny @hojicha-expresso @4sat0ruu @nineooooo @chuuyasboots @alekssashka7 @rieejjyubi02 @wemma67 @nothisispatrick300 @fallencrescentmoon @etheviese @ho34gojo @the-mom-friend-dot-com @the-weeping-author @stray-npc @libbyistired @anon1412 @anakalana @maehemthemisfit @satorustar

copyright © tender-rosiey

do not copy or plagiarize or you will be reported

[the-froschamethyst4]

Sharper than Steel

𖤐Pairing: Viking! König x F! Reader

𖤐Pronouns: She/Her

𖤐Based on: viking-konig

𖤐Warnings: smut, language, fluff, P in V, dominate König, bit of an age gap, kissing/making out, arrange marriage, wife reader, mention of children, eating out, groping, public sex,

𖤐Summary: Viking König a ruthless clan leader, having a soft spot for his arranged marriage wife Y/n

————

————

König aka King of KorTac, he was scary, heartless, cruel man or at least he was till he married his now wife Y/n.

She was a daughter of a pig farmer from another village, her parents could pay their taxes for him, so their innocent daughter became the payment instead, Y/n has been with König and the KorTac village for 5 years now, and she has never left to go see her parents in the old village.

Y/n walked in the village a small basket in her hands as she looked for food for her and her husband, König. She was looking at some apple picking out the best ones for König, he was picking they had to be a certain red, no yellow on the apples, no mushy parts, and they had to be from this one farmer because he sold the best ones.

And Y/n went to him every time König wanted apples as a desert. As Y/n was checking out the apples, a shadow loomed over her, turning she looks up.

"I'm trying to get the best for you," she says, hand on her hip, while placing a few apples into the basket and giving the farmer 3 gold coins.

"Are the red? No yellow? No mushy parts as well?"

"Are they from Farmer Luke?" She asked, looking up at her husband.

"Yeah-"

"Then, they are perfect," she tells him.

Over the years Y/n had gained to become comfortable with König, teasing him, being sassy, König didn't know this innocent, young woman, could have such a fisty and sassy side to her.

König placed his hand to his wife's back as they walked to their cabin which sat on a hill looking over the ocean and the village. König was the clan leader, he needed to know if his village was okay or not, so he build his cabin on the highest point looking over everything.

And once Y/n moved in, she changed a whole lot about the village, their shared cabin, and helping the future generation of KorTac. She build a school for the young kids, she held her own classes for the young girls, showing them how to make baskets, blankets, shoes, clothes, and many other things, but most of the girls learned how to make flower crowns instead, which didn't bother Y/n at all.

When Y/n was brought onto the KorTac island she was expecting everyone to hate her, because she was young and was with a man considered untouchable and wasn't able to love, but they loved her because she changed his mind.

Women gifted Y/n things and men treated her with respect, mainly because they didn't want to die by König. You disrespect his wife and your face will have an axe in it within seconds.

Even though Y/n and König have been together for a while, a lot of the villagers ask when will the two start having kids? König and Y/n have never really thought about having kids. Kids weren’t always on their minds, only the village and how to make it better within the years.

No kids

König looks at Y/n as he opens the door to their cabin, she sets her basket down and pulls out everything and starts putting everything in their own spots.

König goes behind Y/n putting his hands on her waist, holding her close. She smiles and looks up at him.

"What is it?" She asked.

"Oh nothing," he wanted something and it was obvious.

"König...just do it," I mean if you give him permission. König turns her around and picks her up lifting her on the table behind her. König leans forward kissing her lips.

His hands cupped her face bring her closer to the kiss, her chest against his and he smirks into the kiss, he brought her thighs up to her chest putting her into a mating press, his tongue slips past her lips and their tongue starts fighting with each other.

König then pins her down, he starts to kiss her thighs, pulling the bottom of her dress up to her waist. He licks his lips and starts to going down on her.

Licking between her wet folds, moans filled the house. König smirks kissing her folds and then his tongue goes between her folds. His tongue then flicks her bud.

He sits up and starts to aligned himself up at her entrance, he slowly pushes himself in. Y/n's head goes back hitting the wood, Y/n then looks down seeing her stomach slightly bulge with his dick inside of her.

She looks up his eyes, he leans down kissing her lips again, his hands holding her waist moving her with his motion making him also groan.

Y/n opened her arms wanting to hold König close to her body, he starts to pick up the pace a little bit. He attacks her neck earning some soft moans from her lips. Y/n then gets her fingers tangled into König's hair.

"Am I too rough?" He asks.

"No," she moans out.

König then moves her hair from her face, he kissed her temple, cheek and lips. König could feel Y/n tightening around him, he smirks and picks up the pace. Sitting up holding her waist moving Y/n fast on his dick. He smirks and felt himself twitch inside of her.

"Fuck," he cusses and looks down seeing cum leak from Y/n's lower half and he pulls out and watch the cum slowly leak from her.

"H-Holy fuck," Y/n says.

-----------

König had cleaned up Y/n as Y/n was near the stream in the backyard washing up her body. She splashes the water on her body, she sits down on a rock and takes in the little bit of sun peaking from the leaves of the trees.

König walks out of the cabin and looks for his wife, he comes out seeing her soaking in the sun and he hears her take a deep breath and release.

"You look so fucking beautiful," he says, stripping from his clothes and joining her, his hands immediately went to her waist kissing her back. His hand cupping her breast as she lets out a soft moan.

König smirks and kissed her shoulder now. "Your skin is so so soft," he says.

"The lady that sells the smell good stuff, she sold me so...lotion? I think she called it, and now my skin is so soft," she says, touching her thighs that were the softest.

König moves his hands from her breasts down her stomach to her thighs, giving her a gentle squeeze.

"Your thighs are so soft," he says, standing up and getting in front of her now, bending down and cupping her face kissing her lips and then her jaw. "Come on...let's...get something to eat," he says.

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

At the dining hall, Y/n was picking off meat from her turkey leg as König was drinking, laughing with his men, men feeling up their wives. The children of the village were sent to bed early, Y/n felt her husbands hand touching her waist pulling her closer to his side.

"You smell so good."

"Lavender," Y/n says. "It's lavender."

"I love the smell," he says, his nose buried into her neck, kissing her neck.

"K-König not here..."

"No one will pay any mind to us, meine liebe (my love), and if so...I'll kill them," he says, looking up and anyone looking at them quickly turned away from their clan leader and his wife.

König picks his wife up and swiped the plate across the table putting Y/n on the table pushing her on her back, he lifts the bottom of her dress to her waist, she quickly tried to make him stop but he didn't. he smirks up at her and kissed her thighs.

"It's okay, liebe (love)."

König then licks his lips like a wild animal, licking between her wet folds, she moans and tried her best to keep quiet but she can't help it, she's loud, and that's what König likes about her.

"S-Stop it, K-König," she begs.

"I know you don't want me to," he says smacking her thighs.

She moans and leans her head back against the table, she was scared that the people might look at her and her embarrassing state, being eaten out on the table in front of all of KorTac.

"K-König," she moans again.

König would trust his tongue in and out of her, earning soft moans and then a loud one afterwards, her fingers curled around the fabric of her dress.

Her knuckles turned white and she felt her stomach start to turn. Her eyes widened knowing the feeling, she grabs König's hair trying to pull him away to make him stop.

"S-Stop, I-I'm going t-," before she could finish her sentence she ended up coming, König smirks and licks the cum that leaked out of her.

She was embarrassed she hid her face from everyone including König, she could hear him chuckling at her, she didn't dare look at him after this moment.

"Liebe (love) come on, look at me," he begs.

She fixes herself and gets off the table and heads out of the dining hall. König's never really taken Y/n on the table in front of everyone, she had the right to be upset with him.

König turns and sees his men not looking at him, he gets up and follows Y/n. She was already almost up the hill to their home.

-----------

That entire night, Y/n ignored König's pleas of forgiveness, she's in embarrassed humiliated. Y/n removed her dress and put on a big shirt that stopped at her mid-thighs. She gets in bed and ignores him.

"Liebe, please look at me...please...forgive me...I'll never ever do that again, I am so so sorry that I did that, I don't know what had come over me. I've never done that, and I'll never do that again, please...forgive me...I can't go to sleep knowing my wife...is mad at me," he begs.

Y/n was looking at the wall not facing him, he sits on his knees on his side of the bed, looking at her back like he was an upset puppy for pissing in the middle of the floor.

"Leave me alone," she says, closing her eyes and moving a bit closer to the wall.

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

The next morning König had gone hunting, he gathered rabbit for himself and fish for Y/n. He knows Y/n hates rabbit, but will eat fish any time of the day (sorry if you don't like fish).

He starts to fix it how Y/n likes it. Speaking of Y/n, she had sat up in the bed, removing her shirt and then got dressed, she sees König fixing the food.

"Liebe, I've fixed you some fish, just the way you like it," he gives her smile but remembering what happened last night.

"No thanks," she declines.

"Y/n...you need to eat."

"Not anything from you...I have to go see the doctor now," every morning Y/n has felt sick, and she doesn't know why, some mornings she would feel sick and then an hour later would be fine for the rest of the day.

"Why are you going to the doctor?" He was worried and confused but she didn't answer him. "LIEBE!" He yells for her.

-----------

"Now Lady Y/n, I did a few tests and after some of the answers you have given me...I think...you may be pregnant..."

"P-Pregnant?"

"Yes, ma'am, are you and King wanting children?"

"We've...never talked about children," she tells him.

"Maybe it's time to let King know."

"Shit..."

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

Y/n was nervous, her and König have never talked about having children. Y/n thought maybe they should wait a while, and König is sometimes gone and will be gone for a while.

König was sharping his axe when sees Y/n coming over the hill, he stops and gets up.

"Y/n? What is going on? Are you okay?"

"Nothing-"

"Can't be nothing if you had to go see the doctor...tell me, liebe (love)."

"....I went because every morning I've felt very sick...this morning I was fine but it comes and goes, but...I'm pregnant, King..."

Silence fell between the both of them, König was stunned and didn't know what to say, he's seen that Y/n was...growing...but didn't want to offend her in anyway.

"Liebe...this is...AMAZING!!" He picked up Y/n spinning her around and kissing her lips and holding her tightly. "Oh I'm glad," he holds her tightly against his chest. "Do we know if it's going to be a boy or girl."

He started to go on and on about everything for and about the baby, all she could do was giggle at him and how ridiculous he was being but she loved him for it.

What happened last night was gone from her memory, she had to start making new memories with her husband and child the way.

----------

It's been a few years now (7) and now King and Y/n have 5 children together, 3 boys and and 2 girls.

König's girls were just like their mother, and his sons were a carbine copies of him.

König stood in the woods with his sons, well playing "hide 'n' seek" as he likes to call it if he can see them or find them then their enemy could see them, he was preparing them for when they would go to battle when they're older.

"I see you Felix," he says, pointing to the tree, his son was behind it. "I see you as well, Claus," he points to a puddle of mud and his son sits up in it. "Claus, go clean yourself up your mother will have a fit if she sees you like that...now...where is Leon?"

He looks around trying to find his oldest son. Leon has grown and is very good at hiding now. Leon was camouflage he had found some leaves and covered himself hiding in some bushes, mud covering his face.

"I know where you are, son," he says as he turns and saw blue eyes staring back at him.

"Dad~" He groans.

"I saw you a while ago, but I didn't want to say anything. I always find you," he says.

Leon wipes his face. "Go clean up all over you," König says.

"Oh Claus," Y/n says trying to clean her sons body. "Why did you jump in the mud?" She asked.

"I was trying to hide, mama," he says.

"Come on," she picks him up and took him to the stream to clean him up.

"Daddy, can you play with us?" His daughters rush up to him, holding flowers in their hands.

"Sure, babies," he says, picking up his second oldest daughter and taking them to the side of the house to watch them start making flower crowns. Y/n had taught them a while ago and now they do it as something natural to them.

"Daddy, here," his daughter Heidi says, giving him one with daisies, dandelions, and honeysuckle. She placed it on his head and his other daughter Emma made him a ring of a dandelion.

"King," König looks to his left seeing Nikto.

"What is it?" He asks, a bit annoyed.

"We need to get ready."

"Daddy, where are you going?" Emma asks.

"I have to go and collect money, babies," he says, he kissed the top of his daughters head and his sons come running towards him even a naked baby Claus.

"CLAUS!" Y/n yells with a towel chasing after the baby boy, she finally wraps him. "You sneaky little boy," she says, kissing his puffy cheeks and he giggles.

"Daddy is leaving, mama," Heidi says.

"Already?" Y/n asks.

"Only for a few days," he says, coming towards Y/n and cupping her face kissing her lips.

"Ewww," their children say at once.

König walks with Nikto to the docks. König was getting weird looks from his men, he was confused till he realized that he was still wearing the flower crown his daughters had made for him.

"What the hell are you looking at?" He threatens his men, who quickly shook their heads and looked away from him.

[tiredcowboyy]

The treasures of my future

I cant stop thinking ab the idea of merlin one day post s5, where they all survived, becoming really secretive and protective of his room and not telling anyone at all whats inside. Not even gaius. He even gets a lock installed and whenever anybody asks he brushes it off with jokes like “its to stop arthur from finding me” or smth.

he also unrelatedly really hates any talk of destiny, going to war, and anytime morgana mentions her fear of her magic turning her merlin slightly freaks out.

That is until one day gaius manages to catch merlin off guard while hes rushing between the main room and his bedroom and walks in.

Only to see a whole bunch of stuff that hes never seen before.

Merlin freaks out, tries to play it off as some weird experiments and stuff hes been collecting but gaius can feel it, somethings different about these items, not wrong but not right. Not really magic either.

It takes 3 weeks of gaius pestering him before merlin breaks and explains to him that he IS A TIME TRAVELER. after the battle of camlan as we know it that lead to arthurs death, merlin did wait, he really did, but in the year 2020 when arthur didnt return for yet another global crisis, merlin broke and did spell upon spell until he figured out how throw himself back in time.

And holy shit did it work well. He managed to come back just at the perfect time to change everything that needed to be done to assure that everyone lives happily and safely, and when he realises hes done it, he decides to stay in this time. See his friends and family grow old as they should have. See arthur rule as he should have. Live the life he has been craving to go back to for centuries now.

Until a month in he realises how old everything is. Sure merlin can survive without his phone and stuff but theres a few things he really misses. Like his slippers, his potato peeler, his favourite hoodie, and especially his favourite tea flavours.

So once in a while he allowed himself to go back to the modern day and bring one thing back. He started with a scented candle, because candles exist in camelot and having one here shouldn’t mess up time right? Then moved onto a herbal tea that he knows if he traveled past the boarders he may be able to find similar ingredients.

Then he brings a new release of his favourite book series because he cant help it and realises small things like that dont change time.

And so thats what he’s been hiding away in his room, all of his modern day stuff. Ranging from trinkets hes collected over his life to his favourite scarf to his stuffed lion that he won at a fair in the 80s. He doesn’t go back often, only when his tea runs out or he really needs something, he tries to limit it he really does.

It takes gaius another 4 weeks to wrap his head around it all. Another 2 weeks after that to touch merlins stuffed lion thinking it may attack him at any moment.

He makes gaius promise to not tell a soul, offering him tea bags as payment. They have a nice system from then on, gaius would try a new flavour of tea everytime merlin returned, once in a while he would also bring a modern day snack (gaius yelled when he first tried salt and vinegar crisps).

A yell which led to leon finding out. And so a cycle began.

[elliespectacular]

Hello,

My appology in advance, as I'm not familiar at all with actually using Tumblr, but it seems that's the last source of news since you quitted Twitter (for understandable reasons).

Just wanted to know if your current projects have changed since I noticed you were less active on the Dathings youtube channel.

Regardless, I still intend to keep supporting you, even if by a small amount.

Have a nice day!

Thanks for asking! So basically, I needed to take on some warehouse work back in October to make ends meet 'cause tax payments were adding up and things were getting scary. I took an informal break from DaThings while I was working that job, and since it was a seasonal position I left after the holidays.

Since then I've started like 5 or 6 YTP projects with promising ideas that just didn't end up going anywhere. I do have one bigger project that I'm actively working on but I'm trying to go about it casually rather than let scope creep get the best of me. It doesn't feel good to spend so many months with so little to show, but I'm trying to be kind to myself about it. I'd rather take my time and make something everyone can be happy with rather than force something half-assed to fill the gap.

It's been difficult to get back into the YTP headspace ever since the Forklift video. It's likely a combination of burnout, real-life stress, and having an abundance of distractions. Taxes hit hard again this year so if all goes according to plan I'll be back in the warehouse this summer.

I'm still pretty active on Twitch if you want to keep up with me outside of YTP. Obviously the financial support of my viewers is never an expectation, especially during times like this where I'm not putting much out and everybody's kinda Going Through It. Still it's a big help and keeps things steady for me, so I appreciate it very much <3

[aphroditesmoon]

lacrymosa [part 1]

clarisse la rue x fem!hecatecabin!reader [boarding school au]

PART 2

summary: you were sent to a prestigious boarding school to be rid from your father as a burden, but when strange things begins to happen upon your arrival, you wonder what truly lies behind the school walls. And as you attract attention from an infamous student, your plans to lie low is disrupted for the semester.

warnings: basically pjo plot in a different font, wlw relationships and what that entails, artist!reader. warnings will be according to the chapter.

wc: 5.2k

a/n: part 2 will hv more clarisse, also I've never been good at finishing series, but here's to an attempt! Comment if you'd like to be added to the taglist!

The violent wind coming from outside of the car window sent a sharp shiver down your spine. You readjust your sitting position, pushing your school bag further away from you.

"Would you like to close the window, miss?" The driver asked, sparing a glance to your way. "No, it's fine." You assured him.

You have always liked the cold, it calms your nerves in a way. And for a day like this, you need all the help you can get.

Your father hadn't even been home to see you off for the last time. But you were kind of grateful for that. Usually you'd find it upsetting. But it was a clear decision that he purposely wanted you out of his line of vision when he had registered you into this boarding school.

Prestigious and highly acclaimed, he called it. Those were just polite words for strict and overbearing.

You have stopped wasting time trying to figure out why he hates you. Your mother dying from your birth was only the tip of the iceberg. Your whole existence is a burden to him, no matter how hard you've tried to change it.

I wonder if I'll even miss the hostility he's always given me, or the empty white walls of his mansions that have seen me at my worst and at my best. Those thoughts shouldn't matter anymore, you told yourself.

You've never been happy in that house, but familiarity, sometimes, was better than nothing. You fiddled with your crimson red tie that came with the uniform. What you could tell from the way you're dressed along with the down payment your father had to pay for you is that this place is an exaggerated babysitting place for rich kids with attitude problems.

You've been sent to many places away from your father. Summer camp, Spring camp, summer school and all that. But nothing this far away.

As per your research, the school seemed to be located far from the city and near the mountains up north. There are two buildings divided by gender that stands a few meters away from each other. Not that it'd be a problem for you. You've never been interested in boys much.

It was sunny earlier on the road, but the nearer you are to your destination, the cloudier the sky gets. "Looks like it's about to rain." You mumbled to yourself.

"That's normal here, miss. The weather here's always cold." The driver spoke from the front. You hadn't realized that he heard what you said.

It was a few minutes later when you finally see a large building from a distance. The view lived up to it's reputation even from a far. You feel your heart sinking into a stomach, the anxiety worsening.

This was it. This will be your home for the next 2 or 3 years.

Your driver speeds up once drizzling rain begins to fall down from the sky. You allow him to close the window from his seat and lower down the ac.

Feeling your fingers pruning up, you rub your palms together for warmth after reaching for your bag, pulling it closer to you.

The weather wasn't going to be a problem, and hopefully the people here won't be too.

---

When the car slowed down in front of the entrance, you let yourself take in the view of it all, girls ranging from your ages to younger, walking past of sitting by the stairs. All of them wearing the same thing that you are.

You didn't mean to make the driver open the door for you, but he did anyways as you're too distracted to stop him.

He moves straight to the back to retrieve your other bags as you step out of the vehicle. Some of the girls stopped and stared at you, knowing how rare it is to have new students here.

You couldn't tell what lies behind their long glares and gazes, but you had a feeling that they were eyeing you up like a predator does to their prey. Focusing on the large cream and white colored building staring you down, your heart whispered out a hopeful wish that you could just get back in the car and drive off.

You fix up your plaited skirt and turn towards your driver. "Do you need help to bring these in?" He asks.

You shook your head, immediately taking them into your hands. "No, I got it. But thank you." He smiled warmly as he shut the car hood close. "Have a great year, miss." He tells you politely before walking back to the driver's seat.

And that was the last familiar face you'll ever see for the rest of the semester. You lift up your hand in a tiny wave as you watch him reverse and drive off from the school ground.

You see him wave back before he finally disappears for good.

The staircase made it harder for you and your bags, and if you were expecting any kind eyes to offer some help, none came to it. Instead they all looked at you like you were stupid.

You counted the steps under your breath, stopping when you reached number 5, and then starting back again from 1. It was also an effort to keep your anxiety together, but at certain times like these, you wondered if breathing exercises are all lies made up by a psychiatrist to worsen someone symptom and continue to drive them crazy.

After a couple series of 1 to 5s, you finally made it to the top of the stairwell and into the open doors of the school.

If the rain outside hadn't been freezing your toes, inside was much more brutal. The school is air conditioned, of course it is.

When you said you liked cold, you didn't mean the frozen kind. The strawberry pink socks you're wearing aren't doing you any favors either as you breath out a tired sigh, full hands dragging your bags with you until you reach a tiny counter with the label "office" above the glass.

A teacher, or a guardian, sits inside, working on some paperwork. She looked up when she heard the rolling sound of the wheels on your bag and offered a small smile.

"You're new here, I take it?" You nodded your head and pursed your lips tightly. "Can I have your name?"

You gave her the information needed, from yoir name to your birth certificate. And once she's done compiling the necessary paperworks into a file, she stacks it in the shelves behind her.

"Here's your class schedule, and here's your dorm key." You slid the key onto your pocket and slipped the paper under your arms as you listened to her explaining how the dorm building is in a complete other side of this place, and that you'd have to drag your bags back down the lengthy staircase and walk another 6 minutes towards the other building on the left of the school. Not to be mistaken with the boy's dorms on the right.

You ignored the continuous staring from the other student as you forced yourself down again, and into the left.

The road to the dorm was nicely designed, a straightly drawn black and white concrete pavement in squares with grass on its side. It made the place look more homely. But of course, it wasn’t really gonna fool anyone.

The dragging became easier on the ground. You thanked the gods once you got to the other building once you spotted an elevator. Your first thought was, oh thank fuck for these rich assholes. And your second thought was, oh these are some real rich assholes.

There are less staring here since mostly everyone is already in school. You took your time walking once you're out of the elevator, reading the large signs of the dorm level names.

There are 20 levels to be accurate. And yours, unfortunately, is level 20.

You stood up straight in that elevator for what felt like a whole 10 minutes until it dinged open. Finding your room was much easier, you didn't have to walk very far to find your door. You used the key given to you to unlock the doors and pushed your bags into the room first before you.

You halted for a minute when you met with two strange girls from the inside.

Your roommates apparently have not gone to their classes yet and are still here. They looked at you expectantly as you stared right back.

"Uh-" your daydreams broke. "I'm new here." You announced.

One of the two laughed slightly and shook their head. "We know, we were waiting for you. I'm Harper, and this is Olivia." They extended their hands and you shook them without question.

"So, where'd you come from?" Olivia asks. She had beautiful green eyes and wavy blonde hair. Harper on the other hand, had dark hair and bold blue eyes. Next to each other, the two looks quite the pair. You began rearranging your bags on your side and taking out important things needed for your classes as you answer their inquiries. "New York."

"A city girl, that's nice. The difference here must be jarring." You snorted whilst you hang your clothes on to your small closet. "Very."

They walked out with you once you were done unpacking, leading you back to the school.

"The teachers won't mind you being late, with you being new and all that. But make a habit out of it and you'll get a penalty for it." Harper explained. "Penalty?"

They both nodded and kept on walking up towards the entrance. "Attendance is very important, this isn't public school, lying about health problems to get out of class or skip and disappear for more than 3 times, you could get expelled."

That is insane, you thought. "I didn't know they're that strict." Harper smirked and shrugged at that. "Yeah, I mean unless you're a legacy student, or your parents donate a lot for the school, you won't get many benefits."

Of course, even among the rich, the most privileged still get to escape justice and fairness. "Are you both legacy students?"

"No." Olivia snorted. "What's your locker number?" She takes a peek at your papers and moved right to your locker, opening it with ease.

"Thanks." You tell her while shoving your books inside of it.

"There aren't many legacy students here." Harper spoke from your side, referring back to your question from earlier.

"There are only certain families with histories deeply rooted within the school walls, like Luke Castellan or Silena.”

Your brows raises at those names as the three of you leaned back on the lockers. "Let me guess, they're brats who can get you expelled?"

"Worse." Olivia corrected with a sarcastic smile. "They can do whatever shit they want to you, and will not get expelled for it."

"But don't worry, half of them are decent, just don't piss them off and they'll leave you alone." You nod in understanding, knowing that it was your plan anyways, even if they hadn't warned you.

"Luke's not even entitled or mean, he's actually pretty nice. He helped me take out a book from the library once." Olivia added, wiggling her brows.

"You're just saying that because you like him." Harper scoffed and rolled her eyes.

"Even if I didn't, he's still not an ass." The bell rang the minute her sentence was finished. The two girls groaned and started saying their goodbyes before they parted ways to attend their classes.

"Meet up back for lunch?" Harper initiates. "Sure." You told her before following her directions to pre Calculus.

Your brain still hadn't fully registered what just happened. You just made two new friends, and that is a relief. Though you enjoy your alone time along with some quiet and peace, that doesn't mean you don't get lonely or feel isolated. Having bad social skills doesn't exactly equate to joy wanting a social life at all.

You walk into the half filled classroom and scan the space for an empty seat.

Some kids up front started whispering to themselves as they watched you from the corner of their eyes, but none of them tried speaking to you directly.

You flinch when you heard the teacher's voice, booming through the classroom as she enters right behind you. "You're the new girl?" She drops her bag onto her chair and looked you directly in your eyes.

"Yes." The teacher hummed to herself and turned towards her other students. "Do we have any empty seats at the back?" She asks loudly.

"There's one, but it's Chase's." A boy responded. "He's not in today, is he?" He shook his head at her.

"Alright, you can sit there temporarily, I'll ask the boys to bring in an extra table and chair for you tomorrow." You thanked her and walked right to your seat.

Grateful to be seated at the last row by the window, you slumped against the chair, relaxing your back.

The kids at the front stop wasting their time twisting their heads to stare at you, and as the class begins, you tell yourself that maybe this isn't as bad as you thought it'd be.

-

Your first class ever had been less exciting than expected. You had spent the last 20 minutes of the class trying not to doze off.

Barely any sleep came to you last night, considering how nervous you were for this day. All the worries you've had were for nothing, so far it's all been a bore, and all you wanted to do was to crawl back on to your bed at home and escape all of this strangeness.

Get your shit together, you scolded yourself. You've been all alone your whole life, how different is it now?

The girl on the seat next to yours had craned her neck in your direction, trying to peek through your notebook. Instinctively, you closed over it with your arm.

She did not need to see how there are zero equations in your notebook, all replaced with doodles of flowers and frogs.

When all is hopeless, your passion is where you turn to. Life is suffering in parts, but you find that being able to make it into art, makes the suffering less painful, or at least, more manageable.

Your father had never liked how you prefer to spend your time in art class over piano. In fact, when you were much younger, he even took the initiative to throw out all of your sketchbook. You had to find time to practice your drawing when you aren't at home, knowing his ignorance for your privacy.

But here, hopefully, you'll have ample time to draw and paint.

Once the class is dismissed, you make your way straight into the bathroom, trying to get into a booth before it gets crowded. You caught a glimpse of your reflection from the mirror and cringed at yourself. For some reason, even when you're not doing anything, the school air still finds a way to turn your hair frizzy.

You ran into the small space with open doors and knocked it shut as soon as you're in.

You could hear footsteps entering in right after you're done peeing. A cacophony of running sink water and empty chatter fills your ears as you stood up to fix your skirt and your socks.

The zip of your skirt seemed to have an issue getting stuck on a piece of string, holding it back from fully zipping up. You lifted it up higher and pulled the string out before using your teeth to rip it off of the zip and waving it onto the floor.

There was a moment of silence outside the door just before you were going to exit it. But a loud sound of slamming doors and laughter stops you at your place.

"Lock the doors." You hear another female voice command. She was not shouting, but she had a bold voice that seemed fit for a leader, straight to the point and confident.

Any noise of giggling or chatting immediately died down the moment the girl and her friends stepped in, and now you wonder if getting out would be a good idea at all. So you stayed quiet inside the bathroom.

Your palms are held against the door while you lean into it, trying to hear her clearer.

"What did I tell you last week?" The girl spoke again. She sounded upset or the second worst thing, disappointed.

Another voice rose up in response, meeker in comparison. "You said to have it by Monday."

"It's Wednesday today."

"But I have it now!" The other girl pleaded. "I don't care. I asked for it on Monday, you're two days late." The silence that came after her words was worrying. It was only when she spoke again that you felt your racing heart slowing down.

"You know what you're gonna do right now?" She asks. Silence. "You're going to hand me the money, and then you're going to give me 20 on the ground, right here."

20 what? You frowned in confusion. Money?

You expected resistance, begging, or even defiance from the other girl, but you only heard a resigned sigh from the other side of the door.

The door creaked slightly. You tried to balance yourself away from it when you accidentally slipped. Your fingers reach for the door handle to pull yourself up, and just when you thought it couldn't get worse, the door slams back on its hinges. You cursed yourself internally.

"What the fuck." The first girl snapped. "Booth number 2." She called out. "Get out of there right now or I'll break the door now."

Your breath hitches at the direct interaction and your hands hesitate to unlock the booth. But you'd rather get it over with than risk being taunted in a toilet.

You unlatch the lock with your fingers and slowly pull open the door. The first face you're met with is the one you assume who had addressed you seconds ago.

She had a naturally terrifying expression, with her brows knitted together and her hair pulled up in a ponytail. The bronze skinned girl connecting her gaze to yours.

The staring did not last as she soon started eyeing you up and down like she's analyzing every bad decision you've ever made.

But when she lifts her head back up to your face, you noticed that her frowning had lessened slightly. "You're new." She states aloud.

"How'd you know?" You ask her. "Anyone who's been here for more than a week would have the mind to run out of the bathroom as soon as they heard me." She answered coolly, taking a few steps nearer to you.

"What's your name?" She asks you. You tell her your first name.

She hums in acknowledgement before repeating your name, letting the syllables roll against her tongue. "I assume you haven't been making any friends yet, have you?"

You tried not to look to her side at the girl that was currently half squatting on the floor. "You're making her do push ups." You think aloud, ignoring her question.

"What? Oh, her? She's not important, and she's lucky i’m only making her do 25." The girl waved off like it's a silly joke. "I thought you said 20?" The other girl muttered under her breath.

She snapped her head at the younger girl and glared at her. "One more word and I'll make it 30."

Turning her head back to you, the anger she bore dissolved. "It's a good thing you've met me," she started. "In this place, it's all about making the right type of friends, just in case and not enemies."

"I don't plan on making enemies." You tell her. She was trying to intimidate you. Or at least, ruffle your feathers.

"No one does, but they just do it anyways without realizing." She answers with a shrug.

"And I suppose, if I'm with you, I won't fall down that road?" You didn't mean for it to sound insulting or sarcastic, but when she raised a brow in response, a ghost of smirk over her face, you realized that it was too late to take back your words.

"No, you won't. Because I am that enemy that you should be avoiding." You wondered if she is one of those people that's all talk and no bite, but the way she's folding her arms together as she stands inches away from you, radiated something much more sinister than you'd expect from a typical bully.

"I have to go." You say suddenly, a sense of urgency filled you when you remembered that Harper and Olivia would be waiting for you in the cafeteria. "I won't tell anyone about this." You added, trying to make sure there'd be no bad blood between the two of you.

"You can tell anyone you'd like, it wouldn't matter." She replies, stepping away from you to lean her back on the sink counter.

You clicked your heels away from her and made your way out, taking off the locks before you could swing the door open. You could feel her gaze on you as you left, but didn't twist your head back to confirm.

It didn't matter who she was. A few hours from now you'd forget you even met her, and just like always, you'll blend in with the crowd and be out of her sight.

---

"Where have you been?" Harper inquired once you sat next to her.

She had half a donut in her mouth as she asked this. "Don't talk with your mouth full." You chided her. She groans and mumbles something else you can't understand but chews the food until she's finished before she speaks again.

"We waited for like 10 minutes, you know recess isn't that long." You took a bite of your own sandwich and shrugged at her like nothing. "I was in the bathroom, there was a line." Harper nodded in understanding, but Olivia made a face of disgust as she toyed with her food.

"I hate the bathroom here, the dorm bathrooms are better." She said.

"What if you really need to pee?" You ask in disbelief. "I hold it in."

"What if you had explosive diarrhea?"

"Well, that would suck." Harper chokes out laugh, trying not to spit out her donut. You joined her with a chuckle, shaking your head at your friend.

"Your fear of public bathrooms will be the death of you." Harper quipped after taking a long sip of water. "I think it makes me stronger." Olivia argues.

"Well, I think it's gonna mess with your bladder." The brunette argues back. You listen to their back and forth until the bell rings again, indicating the end of recess.

You were a bit bummed that your classes aren't aligned with theirs, your nerves are much less triggered when they're around, a sense of familiarity of a sort.

Though, there was nothing you can do about it. You say your goodbyes at your lockers and parted ways again for your last 2 classes. The rest of school time was made bearable with the reminder that you at least shared rooms with your two new friends, and so there was nothing to worry about at all actually.

A part of you feels safer when you're around them. Though your mind is constantly bringing up the girl you've met in the bathroom. Her brown eyes and the way she looked at you.

She didn't strike you as someone admirable, but you had to admit, her features were remarkable. You had pulled out a pencil and a paper for a quick sketch of her eyes during Literature class.

It only hit you then, that you haven't even asked for her name. She knew yours, but you didn't know hers.

What would it matter? You asked yourself. If all goes well, you'll never see her for the whole semester at all. And she'd be nothing more than another face in your sketchbook.

You paid attention to the lesson, but your hands just needed something to work on while you were listening. Tapping your fingers repeatedly on the table was getting old, so you got productive and drew up a little something.

You had managed only half of her face on the paper by the time the class ended. Slipping the book into your tote bag, you follow the rush of students leaving class and heading back to your locker to switch your books for the last class.

-

It was 8pm when you were finally in the dorm elevator, back against the cold silver metal, relieving the warmth that radiated off of your body. The gym here is open all day and night, and even if the only equipment they had was a treadmill, you intended to utilise them fully.

Working out helps to take your mind off things, and it tires you out enough to help you sleep easier at night.

And so while everyone went back to their dorms, you stashed your bag by the gym entrance and tied your hair back up and went ahead for a good 40 minutes run.

You kept your eyes on the elevator level, watching the number get higher and higher until it eventually reached 20. It dinged open and allows you out with your poor tired feet and worn out expression.

It was quiet on the top floor, nothing like you’d predict what with the hour still being early. The small light bulbs above your head led you straight down the long corridor until you reached your room.

You took out your key and slashed it into the keyhole and heard your friends’ voices evolving from muffled noises into a clearer state as you pushed the door open.

You expected the girls to scold you over your absence again, as you do make it a habit of going places without letting them know, but what you didn't expect once you enter your dorm room, is for them to genuinely fret over your late arrival.

"You can't just disappear without telling anyone!" Olivia exclaimed, her large green eyes staring into your soul as you took your uniform off. "I was at the gym." You explained.

“In your school clothes?” Harper scrunches her nose in disagreement. “Hey, it's convenient.” You retorted.

"Were there other people there?" You shook your head no. "Well, maybe next time we'll go with you. I know you're not used to the unspoken rules here, but there are seriously more creeps than you can imagine in this place."

They were both sitting on their beds as they're talking to you, fully dressed in their matching pajamas like twins.

Harper had a face mask on as she rested her head on her pillows, her elbows used to help her sit up. They had music playing in the background, a song you recognized as Tourniquet by Evanescence. “I love this song.” You say randomly.

“Don’t change the subject.” You look over at them in confusion once you're finished changing.

"I didn't know it'd be such a big deal, I'm doing what everyone else does."

"I know, but I'm just saying, maybe we should all just play it safe for the semester. We don’t want another Samara accident." Harper reasoned.

You walked over to sit by the edge of her bed and asked her who's Samara.

"Samara Turner. She's a senior from last year. Some kid found her passed out by the back garden, her eyes were rolled back, and she was basically frothing from the mouth. When the ambulance came, it was too late. She was gone."

“Are you just making this up to scare me?” You ask them suspiciously. “No!” Olivia denies. “It's a real story, the teachers covered it up real good for future students, not even the news got a hold of Samara's fate.”

"Does anyone know what really happened?" You questioned them.

"The police ruled it as an overdose, but I can't imagine any type of drug running through her veins. And also, in the garden? That's just weird." Olivia says, shaking her head in disbelief.

"You guys think someone drugged her?" Harper shrugged and pursed her lips, inconclusive.

"Either way. It happened when she was alone. What was she even doing in the garden late at night? No one knows. But everyone will point their finger right back at her and say it's her own fault." You understood what they meant. This place isn't as picture perfect as it seemed, just like any other place, it has its holes and flaws.

"Okay, the next time I'm going anywhere other than my classes, I'll let one of you know." Harper and Olivia smiled and looked relieved. You could tell they were satisfied by your answer. "And if we're going anywhere, we'll tell you."

"Okay." You assured them.

You've never really known what it was like to have people worry over you this way. Most of the time, people were grateful when you minded your own business and hid away. And sure there is a little bit of annoyance that comes with being scolded like a child, but it also felt good to have someone care for you this way.

You folded your knees onto your chest, repositioning yourself on her bed. It is only after you move closer to her that you notice your sketchbook on her side table.

"Where'd you find that?" You jolted up, eyes widening..

"Oh, this is another thing we wanted to ask you about." Harper exclaimed, stretching her arm towards the book and passing it over to you. "Clarisse came over here like 15 minutes ago, said you dropped this."

"Who's Clarisse?" You frowned.

"Oh that's funny, you don't know who Clarisse is, and yet she's talking about you like you've been friends for ages." Harper says it like a mother hen catching her daughter red handed, but you're only further confused.

"No, seriously. Who's Clarisse?"

Olivia sighed from her bed and waved her hand exaggeratedly. "Curly hair, dark skin, looks like she can dropkick you in 6 different ways." Instantly, something in your brain clicked.

"Oh, her." Their expression changed into curiosity as they await for you to add more.

"I...met her in the bathroom. She was making a kid do pushups. But we barely talked, I just left."

"Yeah well, she asked where you were when she came by, and we told her we didn't know. And then she gave me this." You opened the book and found that the page with her face on has been ripped away.

Something eats away at your heart when you saw the torn pages, but you said nothing and instead just tossed the book onto your own bed. "What's her deal anyways." You huffed.

"Legacy students, they're all a little entitled like that, her more than others." Olivia answered.

"Oh, she's entitled alright." You muttered to yourself and rolled your eyes.

"I think I'm just gonna go catch up on homework now, unless there's anything else you two want to nag me on." Harper snorted and shoved you playfully but still smiled.

"No, no more nagging." Olivia concluded.

[sugar-coat-it]

Body piercer! Matty

Part 2 , Part 3

May I present my pride and joy (and first AU), body piercer Matty <3, based on the 2020 NOACF mohawk era

Fem! reader

****CW! Needles, pain****

Contains: Matty piercing reader’s nipples*, lustful fantasies, praise, Matty has a tongue piercing, HELLA tension and pining, Matty being a sweetheart through the whole thing

*note, I don’t have nipple piercings lol, apologies if any of this is inaccurate.

Word count: 5313

—------------------------------------------

PART ONE- Fate lands you in Matty Healy’s capable hands when looking to get your nipples pierced. Tension ensues.

—-----------------------------------------

The thought of getting your nipples pierced had been in the back of your mind for what felt like years. It nagged at you every time you saw a pretty girl with barbells poking out under her tank top, you wanted to be her. You’d done all the research, article after article on the healing period, the pain level, and the kinds of jewelry you can get. You also knew fairly well how they enhance sexual encounters, which had a whole draw of its own. You’d done everything except actually make the appointment. That is, up until a few days ago. Fresh off of a breakup and tired of feeling sorry for yourself, you’d called your local tattoo parlor and scheduled a slot with a body piercer named Maddie, then hung up feeling rather pleased with yourself for finally getting it done. The anticipation of the leadup to the appointment had you biting your lips raw. You’d gotten other piercings before, but never in a place so intimate. Never one that required taking your top off, that’s for certain. But friends had been encouraging you nonstop, telling you what a “hot girl” move it was, and who were you to argue? 

Finally, the day comes, and you’re swinging open the parlor door a little too hard, evidently very tense. The bell that jangles when the door opens clanks against the wall, making the man behind the counter startle. Wide-eyed and wincing, you shoot him an apologetic look, embarrassed that you’d practically ripped their front door off the hinge. Great start!

Slowly, after making sure the door is safely shut, you approach the counter, absentmindedly toying with the rings that adorn your fingers, twisting them between your thumb and your forefinger. The man at the counter is exactly who you’d expect to be working at a tattoo and piercing parlor, but an even more stunning rendition if you were being honest. His slightly sleepy-looking eyes brighten a little at the sight of you, a fluffy mohawk of chocolatey waves sitting atop his head. He’s adorned with inked patterns along his skin, a patchwork of symbols across his arms that you restrict yourself to only glancing at for a moment. His eyes crinkle at the edges when he greets you with a warm smile, offering a little wave before you start to explain why you’re here, your voice uncharacteristically high-pitched.

“Hi, I’ve got a 1:00 appointment?” you explain before providing your name, trying your hardest to stop fidgeting.

Your mind is in about 20 places, and it doesn’t help that your heart just fluttered at the eye contact he’s holding with you. The man nods at you, a low hum rumbling in his chest as he picks up the scheduling book, sifting through the pages with black polished nails. When he turns his head, you catch a glimpse of the single silver hoop earring that he’s sporting quite well. Curiosity creeps up like a slinking cat, making you wonder what other modifications he might have. His narrowed eyes scan the book, toffee-colored irises flicking over names until he finds yours penciled in, jabbing his nail against the page.

“Yeah I see you, you’re with me then. And, you did your paperwork and payment stuff, it looks like,” he says, snapping the schedule closed definitively.

“Oh, no I don’t think…” you start to correct, tilting your head at him with confusion until you trail off into quiet.

 That’s when it catches your eye, the nametag on his white tank top reads “Matty”. Then it clicks. Matty. Not Maddie. You’d scheduled your appointment to get your tits pierced with a guy. A very attractive guy that was now going to watch you squirm like a child. Your jaw drops slightly, a sinking feeling in your gut starting to fester as you realize your mistake.

“Everything alright there? Second thoughts, perhaps?” Matty prompts, raising an inquisitive eyebrow at you. 

“No… no second thoughts. To be honest, I thought I had an appointment with a female piercer,” you answer, preemptively grimacing before you’d even finished your sentence.

“Oh, shit. Well, that’s not ideal. Listen, we can get you in here another day then, no problem. Tell me what works for you,” he says, already scrambling for a pencil to put your name elsewhere in the book. 

“Actually, I think it’s fine. I’m already here, right?” you offer, shrugging to try and appear more nonchalant about the whole thing (your palms are sweating).

“Are you sure? Seriously, I don’t want you uncomfortable on my watch. It’s not a big deal to get you a different appointment,” he frowns, absentmindedly twirling the pencil between his fingers. 

His eyes are strangely soft for someone with such an intimidating job, you can only describe the feeling they give you as melting. You can’t quite place why, but his presence alone is somehow quelling your nerves, even if it’s just a bit. Your hands start to still, dropping to rest at your sides as you decide to let him do it anyway. He looks trustworthy, right? 

“Yeah, I’m sure. But thank you, truly,” you say, a soft smile pulling at your lips at how keen he seems on making you comfortable. 

Matty nods slowly, rising from the chair while eyeing you like he’s not sure if you’re going to turn on your heel and run out the door if he looks away. He asks you to follow him to the back, you’re trailing close behind as he pulls his baggy camo pants further up his hips by his belt. The room he leads you to is small and fairly chilly, but only in temperature. The space itself feels homey, plastered with stickers and posters of various punk bands, it doesn’t feel like some sterile hospital room. 

“Stay standin’ for me, just need to get some things,” he instructs, turning to reach for his supplies, including the jewelry you’d selected over the phone, “and, whenever you’re ready you can take your top off, okay?” 

Without the pressure of his eyes on you, it takes a moment before you slowly ease your shirt up and over your shoulders, setting it beside you. You take a slightly uneven breath as you reach to fumble with the clasp of your bra, suddenly forgetting the muscle memory from doing it for so many years. The moment it’s off, the rush of cold air instantly sends a shiver licking up your spine. You lean back against the counter, trying to appear as casual as you can as you eye the piercer. Your eyebrows slope with admiration, softening your expression as you realize that he’s now aimlessly fishing through a drawer, trying to give you time to ease into undressing while he’s still turned around. He stays with his back to you until you clear your throat, signaling that you’ve finished. His expression is unphased as he turns around on the heels of his platformed lace-up boots. God, he really is beyond cool, isn’t he? 

“Right, I’m gonna put these on, and then I’ll mark the placement,” Matty explains, holding up a pair of latex gloves. 

Matty pulls the gloves over his sizeable hands, the bulging veins catching your eye as he flexes his fingers to test that they’re taught. He’s taking a few steps closer to you, now only about an arm's length away as he explains that he’s not going to touch you without the gloves, though of course, your first unfiltered thought is that you wish he would. His eyes hadn’t strayed from your face for even a second this whole time, being remarkably neutral despite the fact that you were topless. Though, you suppose that sort of thing must not phase him since he’s probably pierced tons of nipples. That doesn’t stop the odd tinge of disappointment that he hadn’t even glanced at your body. You swallow the feeling like it’s bile, knowing that it’s totally unreasonable to want him to gaze at you with anything but professionalism. 

“Is it okay if I put my hands on you? Need to clean the area,” he asks, his eyes searching yours for any sign of discomfort, it’s making you slightly weak in the knees, he’s just so fucking gentle. 

You nod, rolling your shoulders back in preparation for him to touch you while he pours solvent on a cotton pad. His disciplined, gloved hands reach out, and only now does he allow his gaze to dip down to your chest. You could swear his breath hitches just a little, the quiet room allowing for the smallest sounds to be heard. Maybe he is just a man after all. The thought makes pride simmer in your chest, but you’re not dwelling on it for long, your mind going blank the moment he starts to swiftly swipe the pad along your nipples, sanitizing your skin and also effectively making them harden from the stimulation. You tense up, standing straighter than before as you bite back any semblance of a reaction. Matty throws you a glance to assess your discomfort, soft brown irises following the slopes of your features. He places the sanitizing supplies to the side, now uncapping a purple skin marker. This was going to be a long process if he kept looking at you that way.

“Nothing's happening yet, okay? Just gonna draw on where they’re gonna go,” he says, holding it up while raising his eyebrows as if to say “Look, it’s harmless”. 

Matty leans in again, his eyes narrowing with concentration, gloved knuckles brushing the side of your breast as he marks a dot on the side of your nipple. Watching Matty stare at your tits with such laser focus has your cheeks flushing just slightly, heat prickling at the bridge of your nose. He runs the tip of the marker from one side of the hardened bud to the other, marking a symmetrical dot. Tingles spread under your skin like wildfire, he’s barely touched you and yet you can feel yourself buzzing at the slightest sensations. His pretty brown eyes meet yours and he just smiles at you sympathetically, knowing how hyperfocused on his every movement you must be.

“You’re not breathing,” he whispers, playfully jabbing the capped end of the pen against your arm. 

Your eyes widen as you realize that he’s absolutely right, you’d been holding your breath this whole time. You release your bated breath, your chest heaving slightly as Matty keeps looking down at you, giving you a moment to regain your senses. You swear the eye contact while being inches away from him is making you more lightheaded than the lack of oxygen. With a satisfied nod, he resumes, repeating the same process of drawing the dots at the peak of your other breast. Then, he takes a step back, biting the cap of the marker between his canines while he evaluates his work. This allows you another moment to admire him as he eyeballs the symmetricalness of his markings. Your mind is wandering, perhaps trying to distract you from how intently this man is studying your breasts. You’re wondering what it would be like if he wasn’t so gentle with you. What if he touched you instead with greed, the need to satiate himself? In your head, you imagine the warm, honey tones of his eyes darkening like tinted glass as he drinks you in not as his client, but as something to desire, to want to feel flush beneath his calloused fingertips. This version of Matty doesn’t try to limit every graze of his working hands, he’s starving; groping, and mapping every part of your skin that he can reach. You’re jumping the gun now, the image flashes through your mind like a ricocheting bullet: Matty’s got you pressed up against the wall, his hands are mean as he grabs a handful of one of your tits, his thigh is hitched between your legs, keeping your thighs parted. His head dips down, his shaggy mohawk tickling at your neck as he tugs on the silver barbell through your nipple with his teeth, pain melding with pleasure till they’re impossible to separate. And, oh, fuck, does he have a tongue piercing? Your eyes flick down to his mouth now, mind reeling as you spot the silver stud on his tongue revealed by the way he’s chewing on the cap of the marker. You are losing yourself, and fast, but he doesn’t seem to notice. 

“Alright, looks just about even. Would you go ahead and lie down there, darlin’?” he asks, cocking his head towards the reclined padded chair next to him. 

Now is where the nerves are starting to kick in, it’s all fun and fantasizing about your body piercer until you actually have to sit in the chair. You were hardly able to mentally fawn over the pet name as you took unsure strides to situate yourself in the cold, plastic parlor recliner. Matty busies himself with preparing various metal objects while you stare up at the ceiling, squinting at the fluorescent lights and wondering why you wanted your tits pierced so badly in the first place. Then, his unreasonably darling face is in your field of vision, peering down at you with a consoling smile.

“Comfy?” he prompts, a needle in one hand and a small pair of forceps in the other.

It’s not a comforting sight, no matter how lovely the man holding them is. 

“Sorta. I’m actually kind of a chicken about these things,” you admit with a wobbly smile in return.

“No… really?” he grins boyishly, clearly being sarcastic with you. 

You shoot him a look for that, but it melts away into a little laugh, you can’t seem to even fake a cold stare around him, it’s sort of pitiful. Standing over you, Matty raises the forceps close to your breasts but doesn’t touch you with them just yet. You bite your lip, lifting your head to get a better look at what’s happening, even though you’re not entirely sure you even want to watch. 

“Now, this is just going to feel like a little pinch, shouldn’t hurt,” he says, his voice lowering a little before he slips in a: “You’re doing really good.”

The praise tears your gaze away from his hands and onto his face, blinking in disbelief at the way he’d caused a fizzling pang of desire inside you so effortlessly. That feeling doesn’t get any weaker the moment you feel the cool metal clamp around your nipple, your lips parting with a soft gasp, hands tensing with the urge to hold onto something, to hold onto him. Matty’s pierced tongue darts out past his lips in concentration, soothing over his bottom lip as he lines the needle up next to the hardened bud. You jolt at the sharp tip of the object against your sensitive skin, your hand shooting out to grab onto Matty’s bicep in a moment of pure reaction. Both of you seem equally shocked that you’d suddenly clutched his arm, your nails slightly biting into his skin amongst the spattering of pretty freckles that mark him. There’s a moment of the loudest silence you’ve ever heard, his stare feels like it’s searing you. You’re about to rush into apologizing, but then he’s placing his tools back down onto his tray of supplies, tentatively reaching to rest his larger hand over yours, enveloping it in a way that makes your heart skip a beat.

“It’s alright, sweetheart, I’m just lining up my shot. I’m gonna tell you when it’s time, okay? Just breathe with me for a moment,” he reassures, his thumb rubbing tenderly over the back of your hand. 

He takes an exaggerated breath, encouraging you to do the same, his chest rising beneath his white tank top. You mirror Matty, taking a deep breath in of, well… him. He smells like a dizzying combination of Marlboros and woody aftershave because of course, he does.

“That’s it, much better. It’ll be a whole fuckin’ ordeal if you pass out on me, so stay with me here. Can you do that?” he questions, raising his eyebrows at you. 

“Yeah… yeah, I can. Thank you,” you say softly, trying to disregard the sparks radiating under Matty’s palm. 

You stay like this for a few breaths longer, Matty doesn’t look away from you and you’re not so sure that it’s only because he doesn’t want you to conk out. His gloved hand gives yours an encouraging squeeze before letting go slowly. The heat still lingers as he retrieves his tools a second time, the flexing of his bicep under your grasp reminds you that you should probably let go of him now. But, the moment you start to retract your hand, he glances at you and speaks in that silky tone of his.

“You don’t have to let go, s’okay. You can use me like a stress toy, or something. I don’t really care,” he shrugs, winking at you. 

You just nod dumbly, your eyes going a little wider as you settle your hand over his bare arm again, right over the top of his Newcastle United seahorse tattoo. You’d like to use him in other ways too, but that’s not very appropriate, now is it? 

You let out a sigh as you come to the same point in the process again, Matty lining up the needle diligently while keeping your nipple clamped with the metal forceps, but this time, you get to cling to his arm. You don’t want to distract him, because it would be your loss in the end, but there is a sense of satisfaction when you feel his bicep flex slightly as you trace your thumb along the symbol inked on his skin, following the curve of the seahorses mane with your nail. 

“Okay, love. Here’s what’s gonna happen, I’m going to do it on three, and when I say three, I need you to take a sharp breath in for me, like this,” he instructs, then shows you what he means with a harsh inhale through his nose. 

You breathe out a weak “okay”, already gripping his arm harder from the anticipation building up to a high. You decide it’s best not to watch, especially since you’d promised you wouldn’t pass out. You let your head rest back against the chair, your nose scrunching as you squeeze your eyes shut tightly. Matty begins to count down, increasing the pressure of the clamp. 1. 2. 3. You inhale sharply through your nose at the same time that an unprecedented amount of burning pain reverberates through your chest, your eyes snapping open. You’re clawing at his arm, a cry ripping past your lips while tears well up and blur your vision. It’s a feeling so intense that it’s seeping through you to your stomach, crawling like the meanest sunburn. Of all the piercings you’ve gotten, you can say without a doubt that this takes first prize for the most painful.

“Oh, fuck!” you sob, the sound being embarrassingly close to a full-bodied moan. 

Matty slides the jewelry through while swiftly retracting the needle, trying to stifle the way the sound you’d made was affecting him, echoing in his skull in a way he knows it shouldn’t. He doesn’t even flinch despite the way your nails are leaving angry, red crescents marred on his skin. He quickly screws the barbell together before completely retracting his hands from you, taking one more glance at his handiwork before consoling you, his heart seemingly aching for the pretty girl in his chair.

“I know, I know. Hurts like a bitch, but you’re halfway done. Doing so good, you’re alright,” he murmurs, reaching the gloved back of his hand to your face to wipe some of the stray tears on your cheeks.

You just whine, the radiating pain only now starting to subside as you keep your hold on his arm, now smoothing over the marks you’d left with your fingertips as if you’re kissing them better. His thumb grazes along your cheek for a little too long for it to be accidental. Matty’s praise while he wipes away your tears is making your mind fuzzy, it’s like he’s numbing the pain; the sweetest morphine. 

Your gasps for breath are slowing, the pain like a dull pulse, easing its grip on you. Mortification is starting to sink in now that you’re not reeling from shooting pain. One of the most attractive men you’ve ever seen just watched you in one of your most vulnerable moments, and there’s still one piercing to go, much to your dismay. 

“Fuck, this is embarrassing,” you admit with a breathy laugh at your own expense. 

“Nah, don’t be embarrassed. You could’ve done much worse, probably,” he says, looking amused as he shakes his head at you.

“Like what?” “I dunno… like, socked me in the face as a fight or flight response.”

You laugh at that, a bright sound filling the room that makes Matty’s smile grow fonder as he gazes down at you with those pretty, sparkly eyes. The moment lingers on for a few beats, tension blooming between you that almost makes you forget about the throbbing ache of your left breast (almost). 

“You do know I have to do the other one right? Unless you’re a bit odd and like the one-piercing look,” he reminds cautiously over the clinking metallic sound of him picking up his tools. 

“I know,” you sigh, “can you do it fast?” 

“Erm… I’ll do it as quickly as I can without making it cockeyed, but I reckon you’ll be fine. Besides, the second one’s always easier from what I’ve seen.”

He doesn’t seem like the type that would elude you for the sake of false security, so you take his word as gospel, settling in to prepare yourself for what’s hopefully a more tolerable experience. His next words have your heart thrumming against your ribs.

“Can you handle it?” he asks, more of a challenge than a question.

You nod at him quietly, absentmindedly drawing little feather-light swirls on his bicep. The incentive of his praise is becoming all too tempting. You want to handle it, you want to show him that you can do it. There’s a new, honeyed kind of heat seeping into your bones. 

“Good girl. You’re a strong one, love,” he praises, sensing just how eager you are.

The next pulse you feel doesn’t come from your chest. Good girl? He has to be fucking with you. Jesus, does he talk to all of his customers like this? Does he wipe all of their tears too? Something in you wants to believe he doesn’t. He watches as your lips part slowly, your lashes fluttering as you look up at him. You have to know.

“Do you call all your customers that?” you whisper, blinking up at him coyly.

“Not really, no. Only the pretty ones who deserve it.”

Your breath comes out as a shudder, it’s unfair how easily he leaves you stunned. He clicks his tongue casually before getting back to work, all too pleased by the look on your face. You know the routine by now, Matty makes quick work of clamping your nipple and arranging the prodding tip of the needle just so. You’re still clinging to his arm, or your personal stress toy, something you’ve grown very familiar to the feel of throughout your time here. The countdown starts, he’s not giving you as much time to prepare. 1. 2. 3. What was more like a shriek from earlier comes out as a whine this time, a high-pitched, whimpery noise spilling from you. You don’t curse or practically maul his arm this time, but it’s still painful, you can’t say you’re fond of how vividly you can feel the needle go in and out amidst the burning sting. 

“Beautiful, atta girl,” he whispers, screwing the end of the barbell on before leaning back to admire his work, his eyes unabashedly glued to how the jewelry sits prettily on your breasts.

You have no clue if he’s talking about you, your tits, or the job he’d done, but it makes your skin warm all the same. 

Finally, you allow yourself to look at your chest, gently sliding your hand off of his bicep to prop yourself up on your arms and get a good look at the two new adornments. Shit, they look good on you, better than you’d hoped, and perfectly symmetrical thanks to him. He smirks when he notices the way you’re gawking at the piercings, knowing that the pain is barely a thought in your mind now, too distracted by how newly desirable you must feel. Matty likes knowing that one, he’s good at his job, and two, that he’s just helped you feel sexier. He’s really enjoying watching you admire yourself and in turn, his work. There’s a slight stir beneath his baggy pants, which he knows should never happen while he’s with a client, but you might just be the sweetest thing that’s ever been in his chair. He’s allowing himself a pass.

“Shit, Matty, they’re really nice,” you gape, your stomach swooping when you glance up to see the smug look playing on his lips.

“Yeah, they came out mint. Suit you nicely, don’t they?” he says, daring to dance along the line of being unprofessional as he then glances down at your tits and whistles. 

What a boy.

“Thank you… for everything I mean.”

“Don’t mention it, you were great,” Matty smiles, his eyes crinkling at the corners as he waves off your gushing.

Butterflies are rampaging in your stomach, god, why does he have to be so lovely? He looks like he has something he wants to say, but it goes unspoken, rattling around in his head instead. His expression is hard to read, but would you be deluding yourself to say there’s a tinge of longing? A few beats of quiet tick by, and you’re now becoming acutely aware of the fact that you no longer have a reason to be topless, awkwardly crossing your arms. Always so attentive, Matty suddenly straightens up and reaches over your body, his chain dangling in front of your face as he grabs your shirt and bra from the counter. He places them on your lap and politely turns away as if he’s never seen you undressed, clearing his throat like that will clear the thick tension in the air. 

You wince as soon as the cups of your bra meet your immensely tender breasts, sucking in a sharp breath through your teeth as you power through clasping it. The sensitivity is something you’d been warned about, and now you get to joyfully experience it firsthand for the next however many weeks. Your eyes are on Matty’s back as you slip your shirt over your head, taking note of how rigid he seems as he gathers the after-piercing care papers for you. But maybe it’s in your head. You haven’t known him very long at all, it’s a dangerous game to assume any of the tension of this afternoon was real when you were freaking out for more than half of it.

“Right, any questions for me?” he asks, striding over to hand you the pages.

Are you single?Can we go out?Should we make out right now?How are you real?

“No, I think I’m alright.”

“Okay, well, if you’re not woozy, you can go ahead and stand up when you’re ready,” he says, clasping his hands together as if he’s wrapping up his job well done. 

With the care pamphlet in one hand, you start to slowly swing your legs over to the side, noticing the way Matty stands at attention like he’s ready to catch you if your legs give out. But they don’t, you’re able to stand with minimal wobbles, shaking out your hands to try and relax your poor, recovering body. 

The walk back to the front of the parlor is quiet, the both of you trying to grapple with the tension you couldn’t quite leave behind in the chair. There’s not much else to say, is there? You’re both standing next to the door now, and Matty retracts one of his hands from within his pockets to hold it out to you. Nothing says “I just blurred the lines of professionality while piercing your tits and now this is goodbye” like a good old handshake, does it? You try to keep your expression neutral even though this all feels quite bittersweet, grasping his hand with a firm shake. It’s the first time you’ve felt his hand without the latex glove between you, they’re soft, but you can tell he works with his hands, the callouses on his fingertips grazing your skin.

“Lovely to meet you, sorry I wasn’t a chick,” he chuckles, crossing his arms over his chest.

“Yeah, you too. And don’t worry about that, I’m glad it was you,” you reply, perhaps being a little too sincere, but it feels right to say. 

“... well, listen, get home safe, alright? Take care of yourself, call if you have any problems,” he says, once again seeming like he’s biting his tongue, keeping himself from saying something to you. 

You reach for the handle of the door, but you don’t open it. You look back at him like you’re giving him one more chance to tell you what you’re hoping to hear, but he doesn’t, he just offers a nod with an unreadable expression on his face. Heartache.

“See you, Matty,” you nod in return, opening the door and shutting it behind you.

You evaluate your situation on the walk back to your car. You’ve rid yourself of the urge to get your tits pierced, and they look fantastic, but your new problem is that you have a massive crush on your body piercer that you’re likely never going to see again unless you get another piercing. It’d be a rather expensive hobby to get a piercing just to see his face, so scratch that. Your only option is to be reminded of him every time you take your shirt off, how miserable is that?

Little do you know, the moment the shop door closed behind you, Matty groaned with his face in his hands, mentally kicking himself for not asking you out, or at least getting your number. Sure, you were a client, he had to be careful, but shit, you weren’t just any client, now were you? What was wrong with him? Something about you left the body piercer stiff and tongue-tied, replaying every moment of your encounter back in his mind. Never in his life had Matty Healy felt anything for a customer.

—---One month later—----

After a hellish month of healing, scabbing, and getting your piercings caught on things, you’ve decided that there’s no real point in having nipple piercings if no one gets to see them but you. You’d like to tell yourself that you don’t think about Matty as much anymore, but that would be laughably dishonest. Dating apps are just about one of the most aggravating wastes of time ever, and you’ve had no luck meeting people naturally, so here comes the next best thing: blind dates. Your close friend fancies herself to be somewhat of a matchmaker, she’s been talking up this guy to you for days now, telling you how funny and totally your type he is, and nothing could possibly go wrong if she set you up. You have your doubts, but still, you find yourself in a cafe waiting for your mystery man to sweep you off your feet with his supposed punchy one-liners. What you don’t expect, however, is to watch a very familiar mohawked man stride into the place, the eyes that have patronized your dreams every night scanning across the cafe until they lock onto you. 

—----------------------------------------------

Don’t you worry, I won’t leave you hanging with just tension, ofc there’s going to be a smutty part two <3

Thank you very much for reading, I hope it wasn’t underwhelming! And thank you to any other writers that I reached out to to consult about my ideas, ily, mwah!

[sunflower-ozzy-online]

Depths of the Heart

This was supposed to be your last excursion with the party and now you're trapped with Laios. What will be revealed while Chilchuck takes his sweet time helping you out?

Miscommunication? sorta both Laios and the reader are oblivious to their feelings. I did give the reader some anxiety so there's that <3

ダンジョン飯 | Dungeon Meshi | Delicious in Dungeon

Relationship: Laios Touden/Reader

Characters: Namari, Chilchuck Tims, Falin Touden, Marcille Donato, Shuro | Nakamoto Toshiro, Laios Touden

Additional Tags: Fluff and Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, Anxiety

As you walk on the stone floors your footsteps echo alongside your parties. The third floor was known for having hidden doorways and traps from floor to ceiling so Chilchuck was leading the group. His senses worked on overdrive making sure the path was safe. 

You had already been in the dungeon for two days so the conversation was light. Marcille and Falin were chatting quietly, probably about spells or their years in the academy. Laios was sticking by Shuros side, like a puppy following a stray cat, asking questions about monsters in the east. Namari and you brought up the rear, protecting the rest of the party from possible attacks. Namari wasn't much of a conversationalist, other than when it came to weapons, so you two walked in a fairly comfortable silence. 

Your mind drifted to your conversation with her before you entered the dungeon a few weeks ago. The party was out to dinner while going over the last excursion. You had wanted to get her input about your thoughts on possibly leaving the party.

“Why!? I mean, not that there aren’t any valid reasons to leave and find a different party, or employer but I thought you and Laios… Got along well. And you like the rest of the party too. You seem happy enough with the progress and payment?” her eyes looking over to where the rest of the party ate in the meal hall. 

“I did, I do. It’s just lately I find myself making mistakes and not feeling like I fit in. The vibes have changed you know? Plus I got an offer for room and board and a paying position in another party on the island. And I know you were thinking about leaving for a little while so I thought I’d get your thoughts.”

She took in your words for a beat and then responded, “I have been getting offers from other parties as well, and they are pretty enticing. Especially when Laios can be a less-than-great leader in the social aspects of leading. Though it would take something pretty impactful to make me just get up and leave.” 

You nod along as she talks. 

“But that’s me. What's important is that if you feel like staying in the party is not for you then that's what you feel. Before you leave you should talk to Laios, see if maybe this is something you could ya know, work out together.”

Your face grows hot at her suggestion, that was the opposite of what you wanted to do. Recently just being around Laios made you self-conscious and kinda clumsy, which is not what you wanted when in a life or death situation “Maybe. I’ll give it some thought. Thanks, Namari.” 

When you had gone to Namari you had expected her to agree with you and support your decision to leave. It would make sense given that she was always voicing her displeasure with the financial situation. It seemed strange that she would encourage you to try and talk through your issues. Walking on the third floor you think about the resignation letter you had in your pack for after the end of this crawl. You hadn't told anyone yet, not wanting to ruin your last adventure together. Though most of the party members had noticed your emotional distance, besides Laios. He would still tell you monster facts about the monsters you had just taken down, even repeating ones he had told you before. Earlier on you would grin and comment on them, or even offer some of your own. Now however it makes you feel uneasy when his smiling face and positive energy are directed towards you. You simply acknowledged his words and continued. 

You can't blame him for not noticing. You were trying to not let him know how strange you felt, and you were not about to tell him and make him concerned. And what if he got mad at you when you told him, you couldn't handle that? It would be easier to just take it on yourself and remove yourself from the equation. You had been in your mind so much you hadn't noticed that there was an odd stone in your path. Though Laios had. 

“(Y/N!)” he shouted while rushing back towards you. You looked at him right as your foot stepped down. His body collided with you as the section of floor you were standing on gave out beneath you. 

~~~

“Damn it!” you exclaimed after you had landed properly on your bottom with Laios’ body over top of yours. “I can’t believe I was dumb enough to step on that pressure plate! I should have been paying attention.” 

“We all make mistakes,” Laios said while standing up and dusting himself off. “Plus Chilchuck should be able to find the release mechanism up above. Then Marcille or Falin can help us out.” He starts looking around, the temporary holding place having a few torches for light. “At least it wasn’t a spike pit.” 

“We shouldn't try to escape without Chilchuck. We may get ourselves into even more trouble if we press the wrong thing. Plus neither of us specialize in things like this.” you tell him, worried as he walks along the perimeter of the room.

He nods along, “You’re right, looks like we’ll just have to wait it out.”  

Your heart beats loudly in your chest. Not only were you trapped due to your airheadedness you also had brought Laios down with you.  Mistakes like this were exactly why you needed to leave. You were becoming a danger to yourself and others. Whenever Laios was around or on your mind you just could not focus. Why had you decided on one last trip? You had already agreed to the new job?  You knew you couldn't be trusted but you just had to follow along. But when Laios told you about the plans for this trek you just agreed, without a second thought. And now, you could die in this stupid room and no corpse retriever would be able to find you. No, you try to tell yourself, you're only on the third floor and you trust your party. As long as you stayed where you were and did not move there would be no way you could mess it up anymore.

“Well while we're here we may as well make lunch.” 

“Yeah I guess.” you're an idiot

~~~

Laios went through his rations finding some dried meat and barley rice. He didn’t have enough water to soak the barley rice in. 

“I think I have some backup in my pack, you can check. Oh, also I brought some seasonings along if you would grab those too” You were busy using your limited magical knowledge to start a fire. 

“Thanks.”  No matter what was cooked he would always stomach it with enthusiasm if it came from you but you did pride yourself on being able to make the rations a bit better with seasonings and some oil. Some people, Chilchuck, thought it was an unnecessary weight but you liked it. Plus you could tell he liked it better when you were on cooking duty. 

Rummaging sounds came from Laios as he looked through your pack for the ingredients. Your fire was done and you placed the pan over the fire to start heating up. 

“Here.” he handed you the water and your spice pouch. 

“Thank you Laios,” you added the water to the pan and let it come to heat as you prepared the barley rice. 

After a while the food was ready. You and Laios ate together. It may have been your anxiety but he seemed suspiciously quiet. Laios was rarely this quiet for this long, always filling the air with his thoughts on monsters or the dungeon, freely asking questions about his party members' lives. To be fair you were quieter lately, though he had not seemed to notice, he would have brought it up. Or would he? He wasn't very keen on social cues so you hadn't seen him confront anyone about it before. 

“When are you leaving?” 

“Huh?” 

“I saw your notice in your bag, signed and everything.” 

“Oh,” You forgot you had it in your bag when you told him to look for the ingredients. “I was planning on leaving after this crawl.” 

“I… I thought you liked it, you know, with us.” 

“I do.” 

“Then why are you leaving, is it finances? I know we're a little down right now but if there was a problem why didn’t you come to me?” 

“It’s not the money, I mean it didn’t help but that’s not it.” 

“Did someone say something? Did they make you feel unwelcome or uncomfortable?” he looked worried now “Is it me?” 

You had paused long enough for Laios to pick up on it. 

“It is, isn't it? What was it?  I…  thought we got along well. That we were friends!”

“We were, or are.” You shook your head “It’s not you, you haven’t changed or done anything wrong. I just, I’ve been off and I can’t figure it out.” your heart was beating even faster, you were shaking. This was exactly the conversation you wanted to avoid. 

His head tilted “Off? Like sick?”

“No, more like clumsy. My thoughts keep wandering and I make silly mistakes like getting us trapped here or like during our last crawl. Do you remember when I got sucked into that living painting and Shuro had to jump in to get me? I had zoned out looking right at it and didn't notice it moving! I could have gotten Shuro hurt.” 

Laios is looking at you like you're a hurt puppy

“I’ve become a burden on the rest of the party. It’s not fair to you guys for me to stay so I accepted an offer from another party. They're giving me room and board too, so that’s nice.”

Laios seems to be thinking over your words, looking down at his now-forgotten food.

“But if you are leaving cause you’re distracted how will that be fixed by leaving? Won’t you just be distracted in a new setting? That seems even more dangerous! You don’t know if you can trust your new party members. At least with us you know we will always have your back.” 

“I didn't even want to have this conversation. It would have been so much easier if we had a successful crawl and then I would tell the party I was leaving and said our goodbyes. Simple and nice. People change parties all the time Laios!” 

“That doesn't answer my question.”

You sigh and look away from him, looking towards the torch on the wall. They are always lit yet they never burn out. Must be tiring “I know.” He doesn't take his eyes off of you. “I guess it’s because it usually only happens when I'm with this party. Well mostly.” You can't bring yourself to fully look at him. 

“Oh.” 

You breathed in, hoping he would just drop it. Hoping he would come to some kind of understanding in his head. 

“But why?” 

Of course not. 

You buried your face in your hands. “I don't know.” 

“If we can work this out then I want to try. You shouldn’t leave.”  

“It’s not like I want to leave! I just, I can’t justify putting you and the others at risk because I’m afraid to lose my friendships. I just know that when I’m around the party I get self-conscious or I keep thinking weird things and I make avoidable mistakes.” 

“Self-Conscious?”

“Yeah … like if I look okay, or if I’m fighting well or not. If i'm being too loud or talking too much or not enough. As if I was an adolescent again trying to make the cool kids like me.”

He takes some time to weigh your words in his head.  

“Well I don’t know much about romance but that kind of seems like maybe you have a crush? Maybe? Marcille has talked to me about some of the books she read, and one of the characters acts like that around the character they want to court.”

Your heart seems to stop. 

“I think the next step is to figure out who it is and then tell them. You should ask Marcille though she really likes this kind of stuff. She's been talking about it to me more lately so she must really want someone to talk about it with.”

“Oh god.” of course it’s just a crush you feel so silly. “I guess that makes sense.” But who? 

Oh. Oh no. 

“Maybe it’s Shuro? He is pretty cool, and strong. Or Marcille, I know some people really find elves attractive, plus she's also good at magic.” 

Of course it's Him. It could never have been anyone else. 

“Or Namari, you two do seem pretty close.” 

Before you started having trouble your thoughts were always filled with ‘What does Laios think about this’ and ‘I wonder if Laios would be interested in that’, you had just thought he was a good friend. It was right around the time he had carried you away from an attacking dryad after it had pierced your thigh that you became more distant. He was always so careful with you and attentive. But he had never shown you any interest, not romantically. You weren't sure if he was even interested in those kinds of things. If leaving the group was bad, being rejected by Laios would be even worse. There was no way you could tell him now.

“Never mind. It’s probably best for me to leave. I wonder when Chilchuck will figure this damned trap out huh?” 

“Y/N?” 

“It’s already been like 30 minutes at least right?” you got up abruptly.

“Y/N.” 

“Maybe we should try and figure out a way to escape. They could have been ambushed.” you were now walking around the room looking for switches.

“I don’t think so, and even if they had been they would have taken care of any monsters we were only on the third floor. Why don’t you want to talk about this?”  He was still sitting on the ground

“I’m feeling restless.” your hands ran against the wall, looking intently at the grooves.

“But if we work it out then you may not have to leave? You just have to tell them.” He sounds a little breathless.

“They don’t like me, Laios. Not like that.” Your fingers find a loose piece of stone

“You figured out who it was?” He’s almost hopeful

“Yes.” you pick at the small rock

“But you won't tell them?” confused

“No.” you let it fall from the wall

“So you're still going to leave?” 

The rock sits still in the place it fell

“Yes.” 

“Will you look at me?” 

“No.” 

A beat passes 

“We don’t want you to leave.”

“You don’t know that. I’m sure you can find another decent party member to take my place.” 

“I don’t want you to leave.” 

“Maybe a Kobold, that would be cool.” 

“I don't want a Kobold, I want you.” 

“No you don’t.” 

“Don’t tell me what I want. I don't want another party member, it’s not even about losing a party member. I just want you. Don’t leave.” 

“You don’t want me Laios.” 

“I do.” 

“No, you don’t!” you whip around to look in his direction unable to fully look at him, tears have been collecting in your water line for a while now. “You don’t want me!” A tear finally spills, you take a deep breath in and look away “Not like I want you. So just… let me go. I will be fine, Laios.” you don't want to yell at him, you don’t want to be crying.  “God what is taking them so long.” putting your focus on the ceiling where you fell from. 

Calloused yet soft hands touch your face, you don't know how he got so close to you so fast. Or quietly for that matter with all that armor on. 

“Look at me, please.” 

You sniffled, letting your eyes turn down to meet his. He, noticeably, was not crying. He was smiling, softly, a blush adorned his cheeks. His eyes took in your face and a huff of breath escaped his lips. 

“It’s not funny, Laios.” scolding him. You had just basically confessed and now he was what? Amused by the fact you were crying?

“It kind of is. You see I have just realized we are probably two of the stupidest people in our party.” 

“You’re not stupid.” 

“No, I am. Because I have had you in front of me for how long? And I am just now realizing how much I like you. Marcille didn’t want to talk about her books. She was trying to make me realize my feelings for you. Chilchuck has been complaining about in party romances more lately, And Namari told me you were thinking about leaving and yet I couldn’t even let myself fathom being without you that I let you pull away from us, from me.” 

“What?” 

“And you’re stupid if you think I wouldn't reciprocate your feelings. You are so stunning and clever, well usually. You let me ramble about monsters and you always light up when you talk about cooking or other interests. Anyone would be lucky to be on the receiving side of your affection.”

“But you've never even shown the slightest interest in anything romantic before.”  

He nods while wiping at your tear stained cheeks with his thumb.

“It is rare, but it has happened before. Though it was never reciprocated, after that I kind of gave up. I focused on being a soldier, and being a good brother to Falin. It seemed like I would never have a chance to love, much less be loved like that.” he looked down and away but just for a second. “I’m sorry I made you feel unwanted.” 

“I can’t believe I didn't realize what it was before we fell in this stupid hole.” you giggled slightly

“I’m glad you did, otherwise I wouldn't have gotten to do this.” 

“Hmm?” 

He softly placed his lips on yours. It was tentative, and unmoving. You pushed back lightly, letting your lips slot in with his.  

Above you the ceiling opened up, grabbing both of your attentions. 

“We should get our stuff.” you say. Slowly you pull away from each other and pick up your back packs. Hiding your flushed faces from view. 

~~~

It took a little bit of time but with some rope and climbing you were both able to get out of the hole. It seemed that the rest of the party also had lunch while you were in the trap. A part of you wanted to cuss them out for leaving you down there so long. The other part was grateful because now you had Laios and you got yourself back. Shuro was avoiding looking at the both of you but Chilchuck and Marcille seemed pretty smug.  

Smiling, Chilchuck finally spoke up “Sorry it took me so long, it was a very complicated mechanism.” Asshole. You glared at him as Laios spoke up.

“No it’s fine, but we did loose quite a bit of time we should probably move on if we want to make it to the fourth floor.” 

Everyone agreed and started to pack up and head out. While everyone was busy Laios grabbed your hand and gave it a slight squeeze. You would have to talk later but for now you felt lighter than you had in a while. You reminded yourself that you needed to rip up that notice and send out a letter to the other party. This one suited you just fine.

Masterlist

[dodger432101]

If it’s alright, may I request part 2 of you Demi-god fic? Specifically, The Reader and Lux having to handle when their demigod definitely is a Pantheon demigod and Lux’s at that. Such as the nanny thinking she’s going insane cause, for some reason, her charge keeps trying to stick their fingers in electrical sockets, climbing high places for lightbulbs, and she SWEARS to God, she saw that kid bring the cartoons on the TV to life!

[Got me feeling maternal for a baby that doesn't exist grr /lh I'll also do a part 3 for the other request you put in about the child. That might take a bit to come out, got quite a few other requests until I get to that one but I promise it's on its way!]

Little Celeste is over a year old now. You and Lux had fallen into a routine of caring for her; you fed her milk, he got up in the night if she woke up, and you took turns with everything else. Having a God in cartoon flesh was a big help, he could be in the kitchen making you something to eat and have an arm comically stretched to also entertain as she sat in her little high chair. Any of his cartoon antics got a laugh out of her, which was a cute bonus.

Though with her getting older, meant that she was starting to learn more. She's got some words down, mostly “Momma” “Dadda” “Yes” “No” “Please” and one of her favourites, “Light”. She was definitely the daughter of the God of Light. And most definitely the daughter of a God in the pantheon of Discord.

Celeste learned early on that she could control the light from bulbs. At first they'd just break- she had no idea of her power. Lux had to step in and help her control her abilities to avoid you spending all your money on lightbulbs. Now she likes to dim and brighten their lights if she's bored, especially if you're not paying attention to her as the increasing brightness bordering on another exploded lightbulb has your attention straight away.

Another thing she loved to do was play with the TV. Her nanny has said multiple times about the cartoon characters interacting with her on increasingly personal levels, at times even saying your daughter's name. It got harder and harder to act oblivious and naive until it finally came to a breaking point. You and Lux come home from Palazzo (he likes to see Mr Pye, he can act apathetic all he wants you know he cares about the old man) one day to find Mr Ring-A-Ding playing with your daughter and a terrified nanny who comes running to leave the house without even taking her payment. You couldn't be angry, not while Celeste was laughing away and pointing to Ring while saying “Dadda, Dadda!”.

“Ay, I'm your Dadda not him! Beat it!” Of course, jealous little Lux isn't as glad to see that happy go lucky toon, quickly chasing him back into the TV. By the way she's still laughing, you'd think she'd done it on purpose to get a rise out of her dad. Yeah, that smile tells you she did. After that you had just about every cartoon character in the house. Your God was starting to get tired of having to send back each one that his darling daughter summoned.

Lux had not been prepared for a child. When he'd first come back to Earth, he quickly read through every book on child care that you gave him, sometimes while actively doing what he was reading about. Obviously there were no books about caring for a Demigod, so the both of you have had to adapt as things appeared. He even sent for the Toymaker for advice at one point. The God of Games turned up to the door, bowing quite respectfully to you (not Lux, he wouldn't go that far) before he laid his eyes on Celeste and went: “Ah. Maestro was a little more.. grown when they were brought into this world.” While he wasn't much help with telling you how to raise her, he did bring along plenty of toys for the new addition to the pantheon’s numbers. He made the mistake of giving her a light up toy, immediately being flashbanged as Celeste decided to show off her abilities. “Definitely your child, my good Lux.” When he could see again he bows to you once more, waves to your daughter, folds down into a paper plane and flies out the letterbox. Of course, Celeste giggled away through the whole ordeal. Lux was quite proud of her for that stunt, cuddling her up to his chest and giving her plenty of kisses on the top of her head.

Even though it was tough work at times, you both dearly loved your little girl. Especially at times like now. Lux has her resting on his chest as he watches TV on the couch, the both of them soaking in the light. She's chewing on his fingers, seeing as he didn't mind the little teeth that were growing in. Thankfully for you she only did it to her dad. You sit down next to your lover, Celeste’s face instantly breaking into a big smile as her hands grab the air towards you. Lux hands her over before stretching his limbs, cuddling up to your side while your daughter settles down for a nap. “I can't believe she's a year old already.” You gently brush through the hair growing on her head, smiling at her tired little grumbles.

“I know. She can already do so much, I'm starting to worry she might surpass me.” That gets quiet chuckles from the both of you.

“You think she'll steal your title as God of Light?”

“Oh I know she will. Already pranking the God of Games, she'll be a force to be reckoned with once she learns more of her power.”

You settle further back into the couch. Having a sleeping baby on you made you feel tired. “Mm, just make sure she doesn't start anything with the other Gods. I don't want her getting into fights.”

The God of Light closes his eyes, his head against your arm. “I'll keep an eye on her, angel, don't you worry. I'll protect her with my life if it comes down to it.” Your eyes begin to slip closed as sleep takes over. “I promise you, my love, she will always have her dad watching over her. I love the both of you so much.”

“I love the both of you too.” With that your little family takes a nap together, safe and sound.

[enby-jellyfish]

Baby Blue

Prologue of My Babysitter's an Assassin

Silco X GN!Assassin!Reader & Child!Jinx (POC friendly)

Pronouns: You/Your

Summary: Silco gives you a new, unexpected, mission.

Warnings: None.

Word Count: 578

A/N: Baby Jinx my beloved <3

The Last Drop is eerily quiet when you enter, making you wonder if you’re even in the right place. There’s no music, the lights aren’t on, and it’s utterly abandoned. There is absolutely no trace left of the warm atmosphere that used to make this place so inviting. The floorboards creak as you make your way through the building, up the stairs, and down the hall.

The first thing you notice when you enter Silco’s new office is the darkness. You’d think someone with only one fully functioning eye would want at least some light while working so late. The second is that he’s moved quick with redecorating. There is already some furniture that you’re sure wouldn’t have been within Vander’s taste. Silco’s chair is turned facing the large window behind his desk, the large backrest blocks him from your view, but you know he’s there.

You close the heavy door behind you and move further into the room. “Did you do as I asked?” Silco’s smokey voice breaks the silence. “I did.” You walk over to the desk and plop a dirty bag with a severed hand inside on the wooden surface.

“Payment is on the desk. Help yourself.” He spoke, still not turning around. You look and find a decently heavy pouch that makes a clinking noise when you pick it up with a huff. “So informal tonight. What’s got you brooding more than usual?”  You tease, opening the pouch to count your payment.

Silco then finally turns around, revealing a skinny child with blue hair asleep on his lap. You blink. “Huh. I didn’t take you for the kind of man to go around picking up strays.” You don’t know how to react, in all your years working for him, you’ve never seen him be soft. “I’m not.” He argues.

“And yet she’s here.”

“And yet she’s here.”

It’s silent for a moment, both of you trying to figure out what to say next. “She was Vander’s.” He’s told you about Vander, their history together. He also shared that he had plans to work together again to make their dream of Zaun a reality.

“I take he didn’t join you then.” The heavy atmosphere says it all. “He’s dead. Along with the rest of her family.” Silco tries to hide it, but he sounds mournful. “A pity. Though good things don’t last down here, do they?”

Silco ignores your attempt to sympathise with him. “I have another job for you.” You straighten up, surprised. He doesn’t usually send you out again so soon after a hit. “Who?” You ask. “Her.” He answers. “What?”

“I need you to help me with her.” He clarifies. Yeah, that makes more sense. “How? I’m not exactly babysitter material Silco.” You argue. “You’ll do. I don’t trust anyone else, and however bad you may be with children, Sevika is worse.” You snort. “She is.”

You take the sight of him in for a second. It’s strange to see him try and fit into a parental role. He clearly cares for this little girl, however skewed his reasonings for doing so might be. He needs help. You agree.

“Good. Come back tomorrow. Eight o’clock.” If you didn’t know him as well as you do, you wouldn’t have noticed the subtle way the weight gets lifted off his shoulders. “Got it, good night.” He nods but doesn’t give a vocal response as you leave his office.

What have you gotten yourself into?

Next part (TBC)

Masterlist

Thank you for reading <3

[alwritey-aphrodite]

Valentine's Surprise

Part of the Charlie May Universe

Pairing: dad!Peter x mom!Reader

Word Count: 2.6k

Author's Note: here's a cutie little v-day fic with our favorite family <3 I love writing in this AU so let me know if you have any requests for them!!

Managing to surprise Peter always seems impossible. He knows you so well, he’s able to tell when you’re hiding something almost immediately, even if that something is just that you picked up his favorite ice cream without him asking. Factoring Charlie into that equation makes it doubly impossible to pull off a surprise, as she loves being let in on surprises but she hasn’t quite mastered how to keep them. For Valentine’s Day, though, you’re determined to surprise Peter, even though you have your doubts about Charlie’s ability to not spoil that surprise.

It had taken weeks and weeks of planning, everytime Peter left the apartment for even just a few minutes, you flew to your laptop to do research and make shopping lists. You know he’d be just as happy with a cheesy card and carry-out for dinner, but you’re so desperately in love with him, you couldn’t fathom not doing something as over the top as possible. Recruiting Charlie for help had been risky, but as the days tick closer to the fourteenth, your risk seems to be paying off and her lips seem to be sealed.

You can’t remember the last time you’d been so secretive, so dedicated to pulling off a surprise, but it had to have been years ago. Most likely, it was when you were in college, and trying to stop Peter from buying something he wanted because you’d already gotten it for him. Every time he brought it up, you shot him down, going on and on about all the reasons why he shouldn’t buy it, never letting it slip that the main reason was because it was already sitting in your closet in a gift bag. The sight of his face when he opened his gift was more than payment enough for all the furrowed eyebrows and confused frowns the weeks before.

This time, though, time is of the essence. With Valentine’s Day right around the corner, and with the chaos of work and Charlie and all your other commitments, every stolen moment counts.

“Mama,” Charlie sneaks up next to where you’re perched on the couch, all her stealth ruined by her dramatic stage whisper.

“What’s up, Charles?” you reply at the same volume, eyes glued to your screen until you hear her giggles, and you can never resist watching your daughter laugh or smile.

“Don’t we have to go grocery shopping?” She adds emphasis by opening her eyes as wide as possible and raising her eyebrows, looking so much like Peter when he’s trying to get you to understand the hidden meaning of his words you’re a little taken aback.

“Hmm,” you hum, eyes flitting over to the clock to see how long you have until Peter comes home, “you’re right.”

“I’ll get my coat,” and she’s gone before you can ever respond, the sound of her socked feet hitting the floor the only witness to your laughter.

At the store, it’s difficult to get Charlie to stick to your list. On a good day, you can bribe her with cookies or ice cream, but between all the excitement and the various Valentine’s Day themed displays, it’s practically impossible to keep her on task.

“Which one do you think Daddy wants?” You ask while holding up two different packages, trying to get Charlie to refocus.

“We should probably just get both,” she responds after staring intently at the boxes, dangling off the end of the shopping cart. You think it over, and nod, a little amazed at your five-year-old being the voice of reason. Or maybe you’re too easily swayed by her adorable thinking face and the way she carries herself like an adult when she tries to be serious, but either way, you throw both boxes into the cart and move on down your list.

Miraculously, you make it back from the store before Peter returns home, and you only had to agree to buy three different boxes of Valentine’s for Charlie’s classroom party to keep her focused. When Peter does get home, you’re helping Charlie write out all her classmate’s names on the variety of cards, the surprise groceries safely hidden throughout your kitchen.

“Why three boxes?” Peter asks as he inspects the mess that’s consumed your kitchen table, and you’re hoping Charlie is too intently focused on writing her own name to answer before you have time to think of a plausible reason.

“Seemed like a good idea at the time,” is what you settle on, and you know it sounds suspicious, but luckily Peter doesn’t seem to think too hard about it, instead shucking off his coat and making his way around the table to place a kiss on Charlie’s head before coming over to do the same to you.

“May said she’ll babysit Saturday,” he says as he folds himself to sit on your chair with you, half sitting and half squatting in a way that couldn’t be remotely comfortable. You don’t say anything, just scoot yourself closer to the edge so Peter can sit fully on the chair.

“Ugh, are you doing fun things without me?” Charlie places her pink colored pencil on the table to stare you down, a frown already forming on her little face.

“Just cleaning and taxes and boring adult stuff,” Peter reassures her, and even though she squints at you in suspicion, she returns to her Valentine’s.

In truth, you and Peter probably won’t be getting up to anything fancy or exciting. You’ll get slightly more dressed up than normal, go out to dinner and a movie, and then probably be in your pajamas on the couch by ten. Everyone always says your twenties are the best time of your life, the time to go crazy and stay out all night and gather up the stories you’ll be telling for years to come, but that hasn’t been the case for you. You don’t mind it at all, and you wouldn’t trade Charlie for the world, but it’s nice to be able to have a night with just you and Peter, even if all you did was cleaning and taxes and boring adult stuff.

The rest of the evening passes uneventfully, even though you’re so stressed at pulling off your surprise you felt like a water balloon about to burst. The only slip up came around bedtime, after you and Peter had tucked Charlie in and kissed her goodnight.

“See you in the morning,” you said before kissing her once on the forehead and once on the nose. As you stood back up, you saw her attempt to wink at you, even though she really just scrunched up her face and closed her eyes before opening them again.

“Did she just try to wink at you?” Peter whispers once the door to her bedroom is shut, and you just shrug.

“I don’t know if you’ve noticed, but she’s kinda a weird kid.” Luckily for you, Peter just laughs as you make your way to your own bedroom, avoiding the creaky floorboards as you go.

You feel like a kid again, trying over and over to fall asleep but the excitement coursing through your body is making it impossible. As you stare up at the ceiling, trying not to disturb Peter with all your tossing and turning, you wonder how lame you’ve become, that the thought of surprising Peter makes you so jittery and excited you can’t even sleep. Really, you’ve always been lame when it comes to Peter, over the moon to do even the smallest of tasks with him by your side. When you finally manage to drift off, it’s by watching the steady rise and fall of Peter’s chest as he sleeps.

It seems like you’d just managed to fall asleep when your alarm goes off, much earlier than it typically does. Miraculously, you manage to shut it off before Peter wakes up, leaving you with the task of trying to crawl out of bed and out of your room without waking him. You’re moving so slowly, so carefully, it feels a little cartoonish, but you don’t have time to feel silly when you’re racing against the clock. Peter stirs as you turn the doorknob, but he settles again as you ease the door open and close it behind you, as gently as possible.

Avoiding all the floorboards you know will send creaks reverberating throughout the apartment, you practically tiptoe to Charlie’s room, and are shocked to find her already awake when you ease the door open.

“How long have you been up?” You speak quietly, closing the door behind you.

“Dunno,” Charlie shrugs before swinging her legs over the edge of her bed and hopping down, “I was too excited to sleep really.” It’s precious, really, the fact that she was so excited at the idea of surprising her dad with breakfast that she couldn’t sleep, but her wild hair and rumpled pajamas tell a different story. Either way, you hoist her onto your hip and make your way into the kitchen, flicking on the lights and taking a second to blink against the brightness before making your way to the counter to set Charlie down.

“We’ll put the sausage and bacon in the oven first, and then we’ll do the pancakes, ok?”

“And I get to mix?” Charlie asks, her little legs swinging back and forth.

“Of course you do.”

For the most part, Charlie just sits on the counter while you lay out the bacon and sausage on a tray, babbling about her Valentine’s Day party in her class and how she hopes she gets lots and lots of candy, barely stopping to breathe. Once the tray is in the oven, you add all the pancake ingredients to a bowl and hold Charlie around the waist while she mixes, making sure everything is thoroughly combined to avoid any clumps of flour in the batter, a mistake you don’t want to make twice.

When the time comes to actually make the pancakes, you set Charlie up at the kitchen table with crayons and construction paper to make Peter a card, keeping her occupied and safely away from the burners. Miraculously, the timing for everything works out perfectly, and Charlie scribbles her name on the inside of the card just as you take the last pancake from the stove, placing it onto a plate as you hear your bedroom door creak open and Peter pads down the hallway towards the kitchen.

“What’s all this?” He asks, voice still scratchy from sleep, as he takes in the view of the kitchen from the doorway.

“Your surprise!” Charlie tells him, sitting up onto her knees and extending the card above her head. In a split second Peter is by her side, a gentle hand on her waist to keep her from tipping over, even as he plucks the card from her little hands. While he’s distracted with whatever masterpiece Charlie created, you work on making everyone’s plates, cutting up Charlie’s food into bite-sized pieces.

“Eat before it gets cold,” you instruct, anxious for Peter to try the food and see if all your research paid off. Sitting around your little kitchen table, you cut up your own food while trying not to make it obvious that you’re waiting for Peter’s reaction.

“How did you do that?” He asks after the first few bites, setting his fork down to the side and shifting in his chair to face you fully.

All of your research had been dedicated to finding the exact recipes from the diner you and Peter had gone to during college, right when you’d started going out. Many late night meals were shared under their fluorescent lighting, but they’d closed down shortly after you’d graduated. It was a little silly, but you missed that food, even though it came from a greasy kitchen and was eaten in a fading vinyl booth, it always made you feel at home, although that feeling could be attributed to your company instead. Still, you were dedicated to recreating the recipes for Peter, the perfect surprise for Valentine’s Day.

“Research,” you shrug even as you grin, laughter escaping from your chest when Peter leans across the table to kiss you, much to Charlie’s disgust.

The rest of the day passes uneventfully, with the remainder of the morning spent bundling Charlie and her variety of Valentine’s Day cards off to school and the afternoon spent with you and Peter trying and failing to surprise each other with flowers and candy. After Charlie got back from school and spent an hour excitedly showing you and Peter all of the Valentine’s she received from her classmates, you leave to run some errands, desperately trying to avoid any late fees on overdue library books.

When you return home, it’s to a variety of whispering and shushing coming from the kitchen.

“Hello?” You call out, a smile growing when you hear Charlie’s failed attempts to stifle her giggles. As you set down your bag full of new library books and slip off your coat, your daughter runs around the corner, sliding into your legs as she slips on her socks.

“You can’t go in there,” she says as she looks up at you, the picture of complete seriousness.

“Why not?” You ask, playing into her game and matching her tone.

“It’s really bad,” she tries not to laugh, but then Peter yells from the kitchen.

“Charles, that’s not what I said!” He sticks his head around the corner as you try and regain your composure, “You just have to wait a second.”

Peter shakes his head as he disappears around the corner again, you and Charlie struggling to stay upright as you laugh. After a few minutes, Peter yells out again, signaling for Charlie to bring you into the kitchen.

“Mama, you have to close your eyes,” Charlie tells you, her seriousness coming back in full force as she grabs your hands. You do as you're told, squeezing your eyes shut and trusting Charlie to transport you safely to the kitchen, trying your best not to be led into any furniture.

“Ok, open!” She yells out after you come to stop, and you open your eyes slowly, taking in the transformed kitchen.

The harsh overhead lights are off, replaced with candles and Christmas lights strung across the windows. There are flowers in the center of the table, different from the ones Peter had given you earlier, and the rest of the table is covered in serving dishes and plates. It’s breathtaking, the sheer amount of time and effort that went into planning this meal for you, let alone the aspect of surprise.

“I don’t think we’ll be able to eat all this,” is all you can manage, trying to keep the tears at bay. Peter has always made you feel special, made you feel seen, in ways you’ve never experienced before.

“That cooking took a lot of energy, I think we can manage,” Peter teases, just to get you to smile and shake your head at him like you’re exasperated and not bursting at the seams with love and affection.

“How long have you been in on this?” You ask your daughter after Peter passed the food around, half of her dinner already spread across her face and hands.

“Dunno,” she shrugs, making a face like she’s trying not to laugh. Out of the three of you, Charlie is clearly the mastermind, managing to surprise both of her parents without giving even a hint of what she knows.

Most of the evening is spent gathered around the table, the three of you going back for seconds and thirds as the candles burn lower and lower and the city skyline sinks into darkness. As excited as you are for a child-free date night tomorrow, you’d happily relive this moment over and over again, safe and happy and full, surrounded by your two favorite people and endless amounts of love and laughter.

[so-i-did-this-thing]

Hello Nicholas!

I hope this isn't a weird question, but I saw in one of your posts that you used to be in a huge amount of debt and now you're living more comfortably- how did you manage to get out of debt? I feel like every time I start even trying to figure out where to start, it's just all too big to ever get out from under. Do you have any advice for me?

Hope you have a great day!

Hey there! Yes, from about 2007-2010 (before I transitioned), I was making less than $10k/year. I defaulted on all my credit cards, exhausted my retirement, and nearly lost my house. It sucked, and in 2024, I'm finally start to feel somewhat secure. What I learned (assuming living in the US, I also did not have student loan debt):

I had to first figure out the sources of my debt. A big chunk of it was because of bad spending habits due to mental illness (hoarding + retail therapy when I was dysphoric/depressed). Another chunk was from being in an abusive friendship. Another, from being unemployed. And the last, was general capitalism (this was during the housing crisis.)

I started working on improving myself to curb behaviors that led to debt. I started working on my hoarding. I started transition to improve my mental health (had to sell some stuff to afford HRT). It took until 2015 to ditch my abuser, alas.

I started working on new job skills. I swallowed my pride and got an office job after a failed 3-year stint at freelancing. It was shitty, but enough to take care of my income emergencies -- keeping my house out of foreclosure. I got a better job 8 months later. It also sucked and I was in it for 7 years, but eventually changed industries and that's when my career took off. Because with each new job, I've gotten better and better pay.

I started using budgeting software. YNAB is my favorite. I try to account for every single dollar I have.

I started spending smarter. Food was the expense I had the most control over. I went to the salvage grocery store (you can find non-expired stuff if you hunt) and bought the "ugly" produce 1 day away from rotting from the local markets. I actually managed to eat well once I found these grocery stores, and my food bill became a fraction of what it'd been at typical grocery stores. I do wish that I had given food pantries a shot, but I was in denial about my poverty at the time.

I sold a ton of useless crap. I got rid of a good chunk of my nerd "collectibles". I only miss a few things over a decade later.

I negotiated with my debt collectors. I managed to set up payment plans with my credit card companies, condo association, and the IRS. I also did a debt consolidation loan once I qualified and was sure I could commit to the monthly payments. It forced me to be super strict about my budget and for about 5 years I didn't buy much for myself. It sucked, but I cleared a bunch of debt that way.

I got help from my family. I was embarrassed to tell my family about my predicament, but it became impossible to hide. I got help cleaning out my hoard and my mother has gracefully given me generous cash gifts every now and then. Never enough to be life-changing, but enough to give me a mental breather.

I played the credit score game. This one seems counter-intuitive, and requires some self-control about not abusing credit cards. Many people recommend the "snowball" method for paying off cards (pay off your lowest debt asap, then go to the next one), but I went with a "credit utilization" method (bring my highest used cards down to the next utilization level, then move to other cards) so I would see immediate changes in my credit score. What is credit card utilization? It's the percentage of how much of your credit card you're using. A card with a $1,000 limit and $100 on it = 10% utilization. Your credit score changes when you cross the following thresholds: 90%, 70%, 50%, 30%, 10%. Once my credit score started going up past 400 (especially as defaults started falling away), I applied for a secured card. As I started using that better, I applied for a few more cards, then for credit line increases every 6 months. My car insurance rates were tied to my credit score, so as soon as that improved, I switched companies and saved money there.

Mistakes I made:

Being in denial that I was poor. I didn't really look for resources on how to live while in poverty. This hurt me a lot because I ended up neglecting myself out of pride, which made my situation even worse.

Payday loans. I got stuck in the payday cycle for about 8 years. I wish I had sold more stuff or asked family for money to have never needed that initial loan. Once you are in the cycle, it becomes very difficult to get out.

Not going to a food bank.

Not asking for help sooner. And not just financial help.

Not getting out of abusive situations sooner. This is hard, and I sympathize with anyone in a similar position. But if you think it's time to move on, trust your gut - don't sacrifice yourself for people who don't care about you.

Ignoring debt collectors, because I was too afraid to negotiate for a plan. The IRS was so patient with me in the end, even after defaulting twice on plans.

Not considering getting a roommate to reduce costs, or not thinking of doing more things like shared meals with my fellow poor friends. Again, denial and pride. Humility is not a bad word and I wished I had learned it sooner.

Not changing jobs sooner. Curbing my hoarding and getting a better job are responsible for about 90% of me being where I am financially today.

Getting out of debt is a marathon. It took over a decade for me, and I am *still* feeling the sting of poverty. I wish you the best of luck. Folks are welcome to tack on specific tricks and strategies -- this is just a general outline of my particular journey.

[ps1]

Congrats on your new dream car!!! Thats really impressive and I hope you enjoy it as much as you can!!!

I don't want you to say about your private life and what you do, but can you share some tips or things you did that helped you to save money for something like that? Did you did something else than just saving into an account? Thank you so much, and congrats!!!

First thing I did was get a personal loan to pay off my credit card debts. My loan was $6000 to get that out of the way. Paid all my credit cards off, so I only have a monthly loan payment of $150. Be careful, and ensure the loan interest isn’t high. I went through my credit union so it isn’t ridiculously high like some online lenders like onemain financial or lending club. Do an unsecured loan! Do not use a car or other valid thing as collateral. Try your best to get an unsecured loan with a high amount as possible to try and pay as much of your debts off as possible.

Second, this may not pertain to you or whoever will be reading this. I sold my truck. I wanted a Supra so bad that I decided to get rid of my main transportation. Sounds terrible but selling the truck would make a huge down payment for a $65k car. My truck was still in great condition and low mileage (I only drive to work and home). I did hop to different car dealerships for a good price. I used Kelly Blue Books as my main source for the price of my truck. This is where I had to use my fallout barter skills to raise prices lol. A lot of dealerships are buying used due to tariffs coming to USA soon, so they are trying to raise their used car stock for people wanting a “new” car they can afford. Lucky for me, my truck is in high demand here in Hawaii LOL.

Third, live frugally. I went beyond saving, and lived like I had “no money”. I only paid my monthly bills, and moved the remainder of my check into savings. The sooner I can put 20% down on my new car, then I won’t have to uber to and from work. My job luckily grants me 20 free rides per month with uber or Lyft. Other than that my mom drove me to and from work with her car, thankfully she works close to me! Money saving was my hardest part. I kept my credit cards at home so I wouldn’t use them either.

Fourth, I recycle cans and bottles. Been doing that forever! If you don’t spend what money you get from recycling, it does add up. My piggy bank from recycling and tips from work added up to around $500 in total. Takes a while for it to add up, but I would toss the cash in a jar and forget about it.

To note: my credit is good, not great, but a bigger down payment would help tremendously with financing the car to have a lower interest rate and monthly payment. I am only paying $600 for the car since I paid a little over 20% of the car.

To summarize because I’m a yapper:

Pay off debts.

Commit to living frugally.

Save every nickel and dime you can.

Over compensate how much the total of the car is (like fees, taxes, insurance, add-ons) so you can calculate how much money you can put down/save for it.

Use a car loan calculator online to help you!

Hope this helps. It did help me a lot. I have managed to do this within 3 months by the way. I waited for the next credit report refresh so my credit score did go up, and made the car buying process a lot easier. The best time to buy a car as well is around this time, a lot of dealerships are bringing in their new year vehicles and are trying to sell through their current stock! Another reason I did this quickly was because the Supra will be discontinued after the 2026 models. I lost my chances at the Nissan GTR, so I was determined to get the Supra before it was too late.