#loan for bed credit

[smegmafactory4ever]

I guess i just always lived very much within my means (perks of communist parents who never explained to me what money is or how much of it we do or don't have atm) but I also got older, realized I need more than i currently have and even if it was something I could save for I have ZERO money saved (downside of having communist parents who never thought me what money is)....

[mxdotpng]

listening to my mom talk about how she cant afford to even help with my tuition anymore after my school increased it. what if i

[zyafics]

PLAY FAKE | 12

MASTERLIST (Series)

Pairing — Rafe Cameron x Female Reader .ᐟ

Summary — When Rafe needs to secure a girlfriend for his father to see him as a viable candidate for Cameron Development, he enlists the help of a bartender who wants nothing to do with him.

Content — 18+, smut, angst, depictions of jealousy + aggression, emotional turmoil, mild descriptions of violence, and usage of drugs.

You had no choice. Newly orphaned with two acquired guardianship, on the brink of homelessness, you caved into desperation. You started to steal; pick-pocketing unsuspecting tourons and swiping valuables at island parties.

The latter is how you came across Aaron. He saw you stole from one of his clients and struck up a conversation. You thought you would be arrested, or done worse as retribution, but he gave you his number to contact. Said you could call him if you were strapped for some cash. When you learned more about him through JJ—and how Luke owed him money once, leading to a bad dispute that ended in the loss of his job and a black eye—you realized you were dealing with a bad guy.

The consensus was to stay away from Aaron because of his shady conduction of business and excessive use of violence. But you were in a deadlock. No one would offer you a loan because of your bad credit and you were on the cusp of losing your family's legacy. So, you did it.

Now, it's back to bite you in the ass. The reason why loan sharks are dangerous is their exorbitantly high interest rates and lack of regard for the law. If you're unable to pay them back within strict deadlines, they will double the initial amount you owe and go to extreme lengths to threaten friends and family for payback. It's a tactic that works best because you can't turn to the police.

When you finish your anecdote, the atmosphere falls into an eerily silence. You can hear the sound of a pin drop or the soft laughter of your sisters three doors down. You're perched on the end of Rafe's bed while he's leaning against his desk, back pressed against the counter, digesting your words.

Your throat feels dry. It wasn't even a long explanation but something about the way Rafe's watching you, his eyes never straying, and the lack of response afterward. You feel like you're burning under his gaze.

This must be how he felt when you were silent.

"Say something," you urge, voice smaller than intended. His eyes shift and observes the look on your face with an indiscernible expression.

"How much did you borrow?"

You pull your bottom lip between your teeth before answering. "30K."

"Jesus Christ," he mutters under his breath, exhaling sharply. Guilt gnaws at your stomach and your eyes pinch with a wave of sodden emotions. This is one of the reasons why you hesitate to tell him; you don't want him to take your burden as his.

You sigh tightly. "I told you it's bad."

"Does this mean you owe him sixty grand now?"

"No." You shake your head. "I paid back ten."

The numbers still aren't optimal. "So forty then?"

"No," You blurt out, before retracting. "I think. I–I don't know. He hasn't contacted me..." You trail off, not wanting to imagine your debt doubled. If you had paid the required amount, as scripted in your contract, within the due date, you would've been fine. Now, you're in an ambiguous grey zone with no clear direction on where to go next.

"But when he does?"

You look up from your crestfallen gaze to find Rafe's jaw set, his eyes searching your face. Frustration rolls off his strong demeanor, and you take it as a sign of his irritation—at your negligence—that you can't help but feel obligated to alleviate the feeling. "It's fine." You say evenly. "I'll figure it out."

"It's not that." He declares roughly, pinching the bridge of his nose, and exhaling another deep breath. Recognizing his own turbulent emotions are flaring, he doesn't want to take it out on you. "I offered you money. We could've avoided this. At the start of our deal, I offered you—"

You cut him off. "I know."

His expression is sharp. "Then why didn't you take it?"

"I—" You draw in shaky breath, fingers grabbing at the sheets beneath you and tightening them into fists. "I had a plan."

"You had a plan?" Rafe repeats, his voice dripping with disbelief. While he's trying to be patient with you, he can't gauge how your mind works. How it's so set on an independent mode that now—even now—you seem to want to do it all alone. "Does it look like your plan is working?"

This time, it came harsher than he intended, and he wanted to take it back immediately but it was too late. His words were laced with a certain venom that spewed onto you.

But instead of being upset, your own anger erupts.

"Were you going to drop 20K for a couple of fake dates?" You snap, standing from your own seat. You knew what you had done was moronic and you can't take it back but you did have a plan. When Rafe doesn't give you a proper answer, you take his silence as complicity. "Exactly. It would've been stupid on your end and I would've never agreed to such a ridiculous deal. I've already made that mistake once."

He knows you just called him stupid, but Rafe can't stop the rising smile on his lips. In your scorn, you're almost back to your old self.

"Why are you smiling?" You cross your arms, attempting to maintain your level of authority, but his grin broadens. "Stop it."

"I miss you."

Your heart stutters and all your momentum drops. Rafe uses the opportunity to cross the small distance and capture your face in his palm and you lean into his touch, shoulders sagging. You can't believe you're reduced to putty in his hands.

Trying to regain some sense of control, you avert your gaze from his face, and both your palms flatten against his chest. "You're mean, Rafe."

"I'm sorry, baby," he murmurs, running the pad of his thumb across your cheekbone. "What was your plan?"

Part of you didn't want to tell him, to withhold the information, but when he tilts your chin up to meet his eyes, the earnest look behind them shatters that desire. With your heart leaping in your throat, you explain slowly. "When you get Cameron Development, the plan was that I was gonna get a steady income as your regular caterer. Therefore, when payments were due, I would have a reliable source of income."

His breath hitches at the implication behind your words. Rafe's expression hardens. "That's dependent on me getting the company."

You keep his gaze. "I know."

"You based your entire plan on me?"

You can't exactly decipher the tone behind his sentence, and you feel the need to lower your gaze to his chest, grabbing a handful of his shirt. You mumble, "You make it sound like it's stupid."

"It's not—" He grabs your chin again, forcing your gaze up to his. Your eyes are soft and big, while his darkened one scans your face, trying to read your intent. He asks lowly, "You believe in me that much?"

Your voice is gentle when you answer. "Of course."

His heart sings. Rafe can't believe what he's hearing, or rather what he's not. It's the same subtle underlying language he's used to translating; the unspoken. Your entire plan is contingent on his success. That means your trust in him started since the beginning of our arrangement.

He never had someone who had that much faith in him that they would bet it all. It's an indescribable feeling, that's first met with doubt, before transforming into something else. To know someone is always in his corner, always rooting for his success, always believing in him.

Fuck.

He's in love with you.

His eyes stray to your lips and the urge to kiss you overwhelms him. His actions have always been better at demonstrating his emotions than his words ever can. But he resists with a couple of measured breaths. Then, he nods once. "Okay. We'll figure it out."

You're in a dazed state. "We?"

He doesn't want you to think you have to do this all alone. You have him now. "Yeah, but later. I can't focus right now."

Before you can seek clarification, his other hand cradles your cheek and Rafe slams his lips onto yours.

It catches you by surprise and a small moan slips out that Rafe swallows. He wants you. Mind, body, and soul. All of it—the taste of you, the feeling of your skin on his, your words against the column of his throat. He wants to feel you writhing beneath him with pleasure, to save all your best memories for him, and to know that you're completely and unequivocally his.

Rafe parts, just a breath of distance, and whispers against your swollen lips. "God, I miss you."

Your fingers thread through his hair. "I've been here."

His eyes are hungry. "Not what I meant."

He silences any reaction by resuming the kiss, forcing you backward against the bed, and your back lands on the mattress with a soft thump. Rafe hovers over you, his weight pressed comfortably against your body while he kisses you like a starved man.

Even if you don't say it, you missed him too. The feeling of him against you, your heart meeting his at precise beats. When Rafe moves to plant kisses along the curve of your neck, a small whine escapes you. You want to feel his lips on yours, to feel his warmth on your tongue, but he wants to satisfy every inch of you.

His hand starts to caress the hem of your shirt—his shirt—pushing up the fabric to reveal more of your exposed stomach to your bare breasts. With little words spoken, like a coordinated dance, you move enough for Rafe to pull the material completely off of you.

"Shit," he swears, taking a moment to take you in, "I'm never going to get used to this." Then, he descends to your nipples and captures one between his teeth.

You let out another moan, feeling his tongue swirl around your sensitive bud, clashing with the metal barbell. Your legs spread wider, allowing Rafe to slot between your thighs. The boxers he let you borrow are thin, and you feel his hardened erection rocking against your heated core.

Your fingers find the button of his jeans. "Rafe," you whisper, aching with desire. "I need this off."

"Need, huh?" He teases, his hot breath fans against the valley of your breasts and you shiver. "Tell me how much you need me, baby."

He wants to hear it all. Even if it's fake, even if it's just dirty talk spoken during sex. For a brief, fleeting moment, he wants to pretend you need him as much as he needs you.

You draw your hands up to cup either side of his face, forcing him off your tits and tilting his gaze to yours. "Rafe Cameron, I need you inside me. Badly."

Hearing the desperation behind your voice—and his name rolling off your tongue, Rafe removes his clothes and helps you out of yours. Before you have the chance to say anything else, Rafe's fingers are between your folds, spreading them apart, and a sound of satisfaction is heard from the back of his throat. "God, you're wet."

You are. Your arousal coats his digits, and with a slow stroke of his hand, your hips buck into his palm that rest against your clit.

"Rafe," you whine, knowing he's toying with you. His fingers stroke your pussy, but not enough pressure to give rise to your climax. "Inside, please. I'll be so good."

He grins and retracts his hand. When he lines his swollen cock against your entrance, he pauses for a moment. Rafe's eyes connect with yours. "Did you take your pill?"

When Rafe went out this early morning, with your sisters, he went to the pharmacy to pick up some birth control for you. It currently sits on his desk, opened and with one missing tablet. "I did."

"Good, I need to feel all of you."

Without another word, he thrusts into you, causing your back to arch off the mattress.

Rafe doesn't go hard and fast like normal but instead bends forward to capture your lips against his teeth. Your heart is hammering in your chest regardless, the feeling of your walls wrapped around him, the way he fills you—like a puzzle finding its missing piece—makes your head spin.

"Feel so fucking good," he whispers against your heated skin, his hand reaching out to take yours, intertwining with your fingers. "Can't believe I almost lost this."

You can't believe it either, but you couldn't say it. Rafe angles himself where his cock hits right against your cervix, causing your head to tip back and dig into the sheets, moaning wildly at the pleasure. Rafe easily kisses you to swallow the noise of your open mouth, reminding you that your sisters are just a couple of doors over.

You should care. You really should. But you don't. You need him. Closer. Harder. Faster. Your legs wrap around his torso, trapping him. "Need you," you whimper, as each thrust grows more choppy. "Need you so fucking bad, Rafe."

He can't control himself. Removing his constraint of trying to keep it sentimental, to keep it sweet. He loves how desperate you need him. How rough you want it. His pace quickens with the rut of his hips, and you feel the familiar white-hot pleasure searing through your body, climaxing.

"More," you beg, arms wrapped around his neck, fingers clawing against his back muscles. You're removing all the space between him and you, until there's nothing but skin-on-skin. "Please, more."

"Baby, I'll give you everything," he grunts breathily, scraping his teeth against the curve of your neck, hitting a sensitive spot that leaves you whining. "Everything and more if you'd let me."

Something about his words twists inside you and you come hard. Rafe feels you clenching around him, so tight, that it causes him to slow his thrust but the pleasure is unbearable. Easily, he follows after, coming inside you with the familiar hot cum filling you up.

Rafe lands on top of you, careful not to crush you under his weight. You welcome it, nonetheless, liking the way he presses against you. Both your breaths are heavy, clambering to catch up on missing air, and Rafe's still inside you. You like that too.

Your hands are still intertwined, and you're the first to retract from the hold to place your warm palm against the side of his profile, causing his head to lift to meet your gaze. He's settled between the valley of your breasts, his stubble tickling your skin, and you take the moment to lean forward and plant a chaste kiss on his lips.

It feels sentimental. Vulnerable. Almost too real.

"Okay, now get off," you say jokingly, undercutting the tension in the room. Rafe scoffs but listens, rolling off, slipping out of you. The loss of him makes you frown, but you quickly wipe away the expression as you turn on your side, facing him.

Rafe studies you. This time, the sex felt different. More. He'll never say it, in fear of it scaring you away, but he truly never felt as vulnerable as he did moments ago when he was inside you. The memories flooding through him could easily get him hard again, but he tries to distract himself, taking a strand of your hair between his fingers.

You smile softly, noting how mesmerized he is with your hair. Of the color and the texture. It draws you into your thoughts, and you're suddenly reminded of a question that's been stuck in your head for the past twenty-four hours.

You say his name, causing him to stop and look at you. "Why were you with Leila the other night?"

"She called me." He answers truthfully, and before you can question him further, he adds. "I was coming over anyways."

This surprises you. "You were?"

"Couldn't leave you like that."

"You didn't stop me."

"I know, I fucked that up," Rafe admits, eyes scanning over your face, trying to express his sincerity.

You study him, recognizing his truth, but you still have some doubts. Another question about your relationship hangs in the air, and as your lips part, Rafe recognizes the question before you even have the chance to ask.

"We're not broken up."

A sense of relief fills you, but there's also the remnant of heartache.

Your voice is soft. "I said a break."

"We're not doing that either."

You don't know if you can separate from him. You don't know if you want to. But you wanted this extra layer of protection, just in case. "If you were worried, I was still committed to doing all the things you needed with Ward—"

"I don't care." He sharply cuts you off. "If someone asks you who you're with, don't answer that it's complicated. It's not. You're with me, got it?"

He's addressing the moment when Kelce asked if you were in a relationship with Rafe and you answered vaguely. It must've been stuck in his mind. Rafe never set perimeters on who knows the truth behind your little farce, only that his father remains oblivious, but you guess it also extends to the rest of the Kook public.

You don't answer him, not wanting to taint the aftermath of good sex with discussions about logistics and labels. You want to enjoy the fleeting moment, even if it's all you get.

Rafe sees your silence and softens his voice. His hand cups the side of your face, brushing his thumb across your cheek. "You're mine, you know that?"

You do, but you don't think it's in the way Rafe realizes. The lines are so blurred, you don't know what's real or fake anymore. You don't know if this is a sentiment shared during intimacy or a parade with the public, or if he does want you. Asking for clarification has burned you twice and you'd rather not put yourself in that situation again.

You're silently asking Rafe to tell you more. To give you more words. To speak. If he reveals that he has feelings for you, telling you he wants you—truly wants you—beyond this arrangement, you would be his. All his.

But Rafe's never been the one to willingly talk and reveal things. You have to break an arm and a leg for him to consider giving you the time of day. You rather not break your heart too.

A banging on the locked bedroom door absolutes you from answering him. "Rafey!" Amara screams from the hallway, "You promised you'd see my dress!"

"Dress?" You turn away from the door. "What dress?"

Rafe says nothing, but the small smirk on his face reveals everything. "Rafe. What did you get them?"

You didn't go with your sisters on their early morning excursion with Rafe. You were too tired and were catching up on sleep. When you woke up, they were already back and had been gleefully locked away in the guest bedroom the entire afternoon.

"Don't worry about it."

Rafe slips off the bed and gets redressed while you watch. You admire the planes and ridges of his chest, and when he finishes, he picks your clothes off the floor and throws them at you, telling you to get up too.

You do, and after you're no longer bared and exposed on his king-sized bed, Rafe unlocks the door to reveal an impatient Amara standing behind the door. She's carrying a foreign doll between your arms; something handmade and name-branded, something she definitely didn't have before.

"Rafe..." You warn lowly, but it lacks the critical threat behind its tone. He just grins at your attempt, grabbing your hand and dragging you out of his bedroom. Amara leads you to the living room, where the registration of how much Rafe bought your sisters comes to light.

Scatters of large shopping bags, of various shops and boutiques you never heard the name of, litter across the floor. Leilani is sitting on one of the couches, messing with something in her hands. A phone. Amara’s ruffling through one of the bags, trying to find her dress.

You turn back to Rafe. "You got to be kidding."

"Just because you won't let me buy you nice things doesn't mean you should deprive your sisters of that opportunity," Rafe shrugs, taking a seat on the closest couch, and tugging you along. There's plenty of room on the cushioned chair, but Rafe decides to pull you onto his lap.

You don't even mind; you like your spot on his lap. His arm lazily wraps around your waist while your legs dangle off the side. While Amara recruited Leila along to search for their dresses—because they have that much stuff—Rafe playfully bites your exposed shoulder.

Finally finding their princess gowns and diamond tiaras, Amara grabs Leilani's hand and drags her off to the nearest bathroom. They're giggling while they skip away, bouncing on their feet, behaving the exact opposite of what you expected them to be after a traumatic experience.

"They're happy."

"Of course they are." He scoffs, "We spent the entire morning ransacking every store downtown, buying everything they set their eyes on."

You chuckle softly, and gratitude passes through you. "You didn't have to do that."

"Nah, I had to," Rafe slides you closer. "Got to stay on their good side, you know?"

You shake your head, hiding a smile. The sound of a door opening is heard and you turn to the source of the sound, expecting to see your sisters return with their costumes, but instead find the sudden appearance of Sarah Cameron standing in the middle of the foyer.

"Sarah." Rafe stiffens under you, surprise evident in his voice. "What are you doing here?"

"It's my house, Rafe," She says with the roll of her eyes.

"It hasn't been your house since you ran away three months ago," he snaps, a hardness to his words. "Where's your Pogue boyfriend now?"

She ignores her brother, shifting her attention to you. "Who are you?"

You feel like you're caught in the crossfire of their rivalry. Before you get the chance to answer, Rafe cuts in for you.

"She's my girlfriend," Rafe sneers, his arm tightening around your waist. "Which is none of your business."

"Gee, Rafe, really a great welcome home party," Sarah says sarcastically, adjusting the large bag over her shoulders, which you presumed is stuffed with her things. She looks back at you. "You're the Pogue my dad mentioned, right? The one who owns the bar near the docks?"

Something about the Cameron siblings minimizing you to a social class. Nonetheless, you nod. "Cool. Nice to meet you. I'm sorry you have to deal with that one," she points to her brother, who's shooting daggers at his little sister. She ignores the look. "Well, I hope you had a good... shopping trip. I'm going to go unpack."

Before you have a chance to correct her, she walks away, and Rafe shouts after her. "Don't unload too much, just in case you wanna run away again," he reminds, to which Sarah responds with a flip of her middle finger, turning onto the stairwell and disappearing.

You don't know how to deal with a Rafe post-Sarah, especially because you've heard of his long-winded rambles about the golden child. You don't even want to step into it, because what Rafe feels for his younger sister is none of your business. It's his complicated family. You can't fix that.

Instead, you pull him back to Earth, turning his head away and tilting his gaze back onto you. His heated eyes, darkened and full of resentment and anger, soften upon meeting yours, and you wrap your arms around his neck.

Leaning into him, the both of you say nothing, doing nothing, until Amara and Leilani emerge from the dressing room with glamorous princess gowns and a crown over their head. Then, they did a little show for you.

The moments spent with you make him forget about his issue with his sister. With her return and what it means to the company. Who earns in favor with their father. 

She’ll be a problem for another day. 

Not realizing how true those words will be. 

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Navigation — Part 11 | Part 12 | Part 13

[ivonhart]

if you’ll have me | nam-gyu x fem!reader

— one shot

masterlist

requested by: anonymous

cross posted in ao3

gif credit: @cressidium

summary: You and Nam-gyu both joined for the same reason...to help each other. The rehab debts forcing both your hands, resulting in the two of you to call the number given by a mysterious man. The twisted games of life and death solidifying the bond you already shared in an unbreakable way.

a/n: Haven't written in a while...kinda nervous :0 NAMGYU FLUFFFFFF *we all cheered* I wrote him different from what we see in the show because of the fact he's in recovery so he wouldn't be all other Thanos like we saw in the show - think I deviated off from the og ask SORRY

You should’ve listened to your gut when the mysterious man with a briefcase showed up beside you on a subway bench. You should’ve listened to your gut when he handed you the small brown card accompanied by a wad of cash. You should’ve listened to your gut when it told you it was too good to be true…it had to have been. So why didn’t you listen to your gut?

The empty apartment and a stack of threatening letters was why you chose to ignore your gut and call the number. You needed the money…for him. But now, as your unsteady legs trudged you back towards the large room you suddenly woke up in you realized you should’ve listened to your gut.

Your arms wrapped around yourself as your fingers clung to the green jacket that covered your shaking shoulders. Ears still ringing slightly from the mass amounts of gunshots that echoed throughout the field you played your first twisted game in. You never heard a gunshot before…you didn’t think it would be so loud.

You could feel sobs begin to weigh down your chest at the knowledge you’ll most likely die here. The images of the falling, bloody bodies making your mind run wild - making you imagine yourself as one of the fallen. What would he think? Would he think you finally got sick of his struggles and left him?

Your body was running on autopilot as you walked towards the bed you were put in, paying no mind to the voice that shouted your name until you felt a familiar pair of hands grasp your shoulders. “What are you doing here?!” That voice snapped you from your haze, causing your head to whip towards the source, only to find the eyes of the very person you thought of.

A cry left your mouth as you launched into his arms. “NAM-GYU!” One of his hands immediately cupped the back of your head while the other wrapped around your waist. Your arms circled around his neck with your fingers balling his jacket up. Both of your bodies relaxed in the arms of one another.

The horrors of the games you found yourselves in faded away…if only for a moment. Those around you blurred into the background as the two of you embraced. Your tears dampened his jacket and when he pulled away the hand that once cupped the back of your head found its place on your cheek, slowly wiping the tears away before pulling you into a nearby corner to talk.

As he did, you spoke. “Gyu, what are you doing here?” Your question came out sharp but he knew it was only because you were scared. “I could ask you the same question.” He responded back with a half-hearted smile…trying to ease some of the fear you felt. His hands found yours and rubbed his thumbs along your knuckles as you sighed.

“T-The loan shark came by our apartment a few days ago…” Your voice trailed off as your head hung low. “My job cut my hours and I haven’t been able to pay them back.” Tears stung the back of your eyes as shame washed over you. “Did they do anything to you?”

The question tore out of Nam-gyu’s mouth with an edge of worry and anger. Your head shot back up so that your wide eyes could meet his. With frantic shakes of your head you responded. “No no. J-Just a bit of verbal threatening–but that’s besides the point…” You were quick to change the conversation topic towards him.

“What are you doing here?! You’re supposed to be in rehab.”  That’s when Nam-gyu told you that the rehab center kicked him out for missing too many payments and another wave of shame hit you. After multiple times in rehab you had been worn thin with his addiction and struggled because of it.

So, one day, when he was sober, you gave him the ultimatum; either get better or you would leave. But now…you couldn’t help but feel like this was all your fault. “Babe…don’t do that.” He cupped your cheek and looked into your guilt-filled eyes. He knew you. He knew that you were blaming yourself. “Don’t blame yourself.”

“D-Did you–Where did you stay?” He knew what you were starting to ask. It had been a long and hard journey and he realized some time ago that he had taken advantage of your good heart. So, when you put your foot down and gave him an ultimatum he knew he had to get clean. He couldn’t lose you. “I didn’t relapse.”

He saw the way the tension released from your shoulders as he ran his hands up and down your arms. “Why didn’t you come home?” Nam-gyu let out a small sigh and stepped closer so that he could rest his head against yours. Your eyes closing at the contact.

“I don’t know. Maybe because I was ashamed? I kept fucking up and needed to go back so many times.” You felt his sigh caress your face, but before you could defend him another voice broke through your little corner. “Nam-suuuuuu, who's this pretty lady?” You looked towards the sound to see the face of the rapper your boyfriend loved to listen to.

His purple hair popped against the otherwise stagnant white room. “Thanos?” His rapper name came out instinctively which caused a wide smile to spread across his face. “The one and only, Señorita.” When he got closer you stepped slightly behind Nam-gyu and sought out his hand - which he took immediately. You always had trouble with attention. Never really knowing what to do if it was turned towards you.

Thanos eyed your intertwined hands and smiled even wider. “Aw shhhiii…this your girl?” He asked Nam-gyu, causing the man to nod. A laugh left Thanos. “Alright! Another member of Thanos World!” As he spoke you took note of how dilated his pupils were. A sight so familiar that you knew right away what state the man was in.

Perhaps he was high when they took him or maybe, somehow, he managed to take something during the first game. You felt a ping of pity shoot through your heart knowing he was probably high to deal with the situation you all found yourselves in. He spun on his heel with a giggle and moved back towards his bed, not before turning back and waving the two of you to follow. “Come on gang!”

-

You were stuck here for one more game…just one - that’s what you and Nam-gyu promised each other. The blue O that clung to your shirt told everyone you were willing to put your life on the line for the chance of more money. It was a heavy weight to carry, but you could pay off the debts with the money you and Nam-gyu would get put together. “We have to stay.”

You told the love of your life after Player 456 spoke up for a vote. “We’re gonna die either way. Out there…by the loan sharks. Or in here…with a chance of getting the money.” Nam-gyu wasn’t happy when you said that. The thought of you dying made him sick to his stomach but he knew you were right.

You were always the smarter one in the relationship. “One more game?” He had asked. “One more.” You promised. The second game was a Six-Legged Pentathlon - with you and Nam-gyu refusing to separate all you needed was three more players…and your third body came bouncing over with a wide smile. “My gang!”

Thanos exclaimed as he threw his arms around the shoulders of both you and Nam-gyu. Despite his outlandish nature you could tell he had a good heart. In a way he reminded you of your Nam-gyu. A nice boy haunted by his past…struggling with addiction. “Are we ready to do this or what?” His positivity was almost infectious, causing you to slowly nod while glancing towards Nam-gyu.

That snowballed events leading to you, Nam-gyu, Thanos, a young woman named Se-mi and a young man named Min-shu - who Thanos took to immediately - sitting on the dirt floor waiting for your team's turn. Nam-gyu kept his hand on your thigh while he looked around to watch for when the guard’s would close in to “eliminate” the losers.

He always covered your ears when the gunshots would ring out. From the corner of your eye you could see Thanos’s hands shaking. With each gunshot the shaking grew more and more intense and slowly you grabbed hold of his hand before it could reach for his necklace. A sharp inhale breaking the tense bubble that surrounded him.

“If you need to take something…take it.” You began to say towards the purple-haired rapper. “But…just know you're not alone. Not anymore.” His wide eyes looked up at you and all you did was send him a sad smile before turning your attention back on Nam-gyu. You knew your words wouldn’t cure his cravings, but you needed him to know that he was with a group now. People that he could rely on.

The hold on Thanos’s hand never letting up as you laid your head against your boyfriend’s shoulder. The comfort eased Thanos’s racing heart just a bit, but his free hand was quick to open the cross once more. “Whatcha thinking about?” You quietly asked your boyfriend. He had been strangely quiet the whole time - not knowing that the man was thinking about his life with you. He couldn’t imagine a world without you in it and he couldn’t die without telling you.

A few seconds passed before you felt his shoulders rise as he puffed his chest out. “We are gonna win this because I’m not going to die without making you my wife. If you’ll have me.” His words came out with a purpose. He wasn’t saying such things to say it…he meant every word. 

Heat bloomed across your cheeks as you looked at him with wide eyes. Then, tears stung your eyes as you let go of Thanos’s hand to cup Nam-gyu’s cheek, turning his eyes towards yours. The look that his eyes held made your chest ache with a sickening sense of purpose.

You and him were tied together…your souls tethered through space and time so that even if you died here today you would find one another in the next life. And all the others after that. “You had me from the moment we met.” You whispered with a wide smile.

-

When your team passed the finish line a sheer joyous cheer ripped through your throat and those around you. With just five seconds to spare you passed the finish line. Nam-gyu was quick to engulf you in a kiss that left you breathless.

He always kisses as if you gave him the air that filled his lungs…and to him you did. When he pulled away you saw his smile. It was as bright as the sun and radiated the same amount of warmth. “You were fucking amazing.”

He panted against your mouth as a guard unlocked the cuffs that bound your legs together. When you felt your legs get freed you jumped into his arms and wrapped your legs around his waist.Your arms locking around his neck in practiced ease from doing so many times before. The rest of your team was seemingly abandoned as he walked with you back towards the dormitory. “You still gonna marry me?” You questioned with a smile.

A string of giggles passed your lips as Nam-gyu nipped at your throat with a smile. “I’d marry you right here if I could.” Your giggles carried into the sleeping area as he carried you back to the bunks you slept in. You and Nam-gyu shared a bed whilst Thanos slept in one of the neighboring bunks. “My friends, that was awesome!”

The words from Thanos were in a language you didn’t understand, but from his wide smile you assumed it was a celebration. You and Nam-gyu plopped down on your bunk as Thanos scurried over with a laugh. Se-mi and Min-su not far behind him. The unspoken bond that formed between the team carried over from the win, causing them to settle in close by.

You silently watched as Thanos exclaimed over everyone’s performance with a soft smile. Your back pulled into Nam-gyu’s chest as his hands rubbed your arms. You could only hope that the money made from this round would be enough to pay off your debts.

When the time came for the money amount to be announced, everyone hurried towards the center of the room. And then the amount showed up…and you stared up at the total money amount with wide eyes. It was enough. It was more than enough.

When you and Nam-gyu put the money together there was plenty to pay off the debts and have so much left over. “My love…” You began to whisper. Slowly, you looked at the man with a laugh. “I know.” He responded. The voting went by in a blur and when Player 001 cast his vote the X side erupted in hoots and hollers of joy.

You won. You won. Your scream of happiness joined the others as you jumped into Nam-gyu’s arms. Tears fell from your eyes as you kissed him with all the love you could muster. “I’m gonna marry the FUCK out of you the moment we get out.”

-

tag list: @vip-luc

[electricpurrs]

starting my commissions post over

i was gonna make another addition to my previous post, but i've done so many additions to it it's better to start all over

reinterating: i have all my commissions slots open again! i'm drawing more often since getting out of my artblock, so i've reopened my slots for icons, halfbodies, fullbodies and emote/meme redraws! they can all be found on my ko-fi!

the addition now is that i'm advertising those because i'm trying to get some money! i currently have a R$429 BRL debt on my credit card, which amounts to about $72 USD

as an extra my family just got a new puppy! this means i will have to buy quite a lot of stuff for it tomorrow (food, bowls, collar, leash, toys, bed etc.). i also need to save up for a couple things in February (namely, i need to pay loan for my brother's computer, which is about $33~ usd, it's also his birthday soon and i'd like to get him a gift)

that all said, i'm fully rising my goal to $120 USD and hoping that suffices for at least a while!

$60/$120

[woodlandwizard77]

A Step by Step Guide to Losing Your D**k

I recently wrote a series of messages to my aunt talking about all the steps I need to do to get bottom surgery, a penile inversion vaginoplasty at Mt. Sinai, in the next year or two. Its a long list. And everytime I added something she had a sort of “wow thats rough” reaction, but to me its just the to do list. So I decided to write them all out.

Start transition DONE

Most insurance companies and surgeons require you to have socially transitioned and have done HRT for at least 1 year at the time of operation

For social transition, this was March of 2024

For HRT it will be January of 2025

Get a referral to a surgeon (I am here)

In my case, Mt. Sinai in Manhattan

My Doctor referred me, but Mt. Sinai takes self referrals

Start laser hair removal

Book a consultation (I am here)

Go to laser frequently enough to satisfy surgeon

Convince Mom and Dad to help out DONE

Get 2 letters

Social Worker (1)

PCP's Office

Social Worker (2)

Mt. Sinai

Get a gender affirmation loan through the local credit union

Work two weeks so I can take in pay stubs

Get a letter from anybody (probably my HRT prescriber

Meet with representative and either open a line of credit or take out a loan

Consultation with Mt. Sinai’s team

Wait 3-6 months (I’m here)

Bring letters

My insurance only requires 2, less than Mt. Sinai thinks insurance will need, and Mt. Sinai provides 1 of them. Meaning the other is through IHS Behavioral

Schedule Social Work pre surgical consult appt

Schedule Mental Health and Medical Clearance with Registrar

Go to NYC for 1-2 nights, maybe for each, hopefully just once

Maybe also for Social Work thing

Consult with Surgeon

Wait until I’ve worked about 12 months to get short term disability

Probably summer (ASAP) and when Mom has time off

Do logistics

Book an airbnb, hotel, etc for recovery

Starting a few days after OR date and lasting a little over a month

Within a 90 minute drive of Mt. Sinai

Rural enough that Mom is comfortable to help and can go home if someone else shows up

Probably New Jersey, maybe Hudson Valley

Has at least 1, preferably 2, separate bedrooms

Has 2 beds

Has ADA accessible entry

Has a kitchen

Has a full bath, preferably and a half

Has internet and preferably a TV

Lodging for Mom + Dad/care team while I’m in OR

Probably 5-7 days

Preferably with a 1-2 day buffer period before OR date (included in the 7 day estimate) so I can enjoy the city

Either within a short walk from Mt. Sinai or on the same subway line as Mt. Sinai

RW, 1, or ACE

Someone to help me get from recovery location to Mt. Sinai while not in NYC

Develop and get list of items needed for recovery

Dilator

Pads

Gowns/loose clothing

Comfort food

Coordinate missing 8-9 weeks of work

Take care with who knows what before I leave

Inform HR, department manager, and work friends whats up

Get cleared for surgery and get an OR date

Probably a 6-12 month date from clearance

Get pre clearance testing through PCP or a lab in hometown

Go to NYC for that if need be

Week Before Surgery

No alcohol, no aspirin, NSAIDs, herbal supplements, or fish oil

Consult for other non aspirin blood thinners (which I am not on)

No alcohol for 3 weeks after as well

Tylenol/Acetaminophen is okay

Go downstate

See friends from NYC?

Bring Mom/Dad?

Do something fun in Manhattan

Get a COVID test

Take an anti-bacterial bath

Day before surgery

Breakfast before 9am

Last meal

Drink Golytely bowel solution around noon

Chemically induced diarrhea

Clear fluids only after golytely

(includes coffee, tea, water, broth, some juices)

Nothing goes in the stomach after midnight

Some medication okay with a sip of water

HRT???

Get surgery (a penile inversion vaginoplasty)

1 to 1+½ days

I’ve heard of as long as three

3-5 day hospital stay

Mom and Dad probably stay in Manhattan then

Go to recovery location

Drive with seat reclined

Stay for 4 weeks, pretty much bedridden

Go to follow ups

Dilate

Go home

Continue recovery for another 2-4 weeks at home

Follow up with PCP

Return to life

[aliceinborderlandsquidgame]

Home (you) | Gi-hun x Wife!Reader |

Summary: He finally returns to you.

Warnings: Post S1 - Non canon events - Non canon background for Gi-hun - Sad!Gi-hun - Paranoid!Gi-hun - Trauma - Soft!Moments  - NON CANON EVENTS FROM S2  - ANGST -

When Gi-hun was left with nothing but his underwear and a credit card full of zeros his mind did nothing but drift off.

He could not forget them. The others, the ones who died in order for him to be here today. Alive, looking at the account, sounds and smells from the city, ignorance from what had happen to him and others.

Gi-hun knew you were there, at the small aparment you two shared. The small yet filled with love place. It was his safe heaven, the home he loved. Where you waited for him, never once judged him and rather tried to help.

You have been nothing but the best wife, woman and friend. More than what he could ask for and more of what he deserves.

In his mind you should have left him, for someone better. But he could be selfish and when it came to you he was.

But now after everything that had happen..did he deserve to go back to you ? To his life ? When he had promise that he would not dissapear again? But he still did ? Knowing he may not be back ?

His mind driffted back and he found himself walking without a destination, not caring for the cold or nasty looks along the way.

~○~○~○~○~○~○~○~○~○

Another morning came, the bed felt cold but you have to get used to it. Thats whar you keep telling yourself. However when you see the ring on your finger you cant help but let out some tears before getting up and prepare for the day.

It has been at least three months now since Gi-hun dissapear without a way to find him.

You tought the loan sharks would look for you but that never happened. Part of you did wonder if they had killed him but when being confronted by you they just said a quick excuse and went off.

You hated your life without him. Besides the pity looks you got at your work or the few words of compassion, you missed him. A lot. You were used to his laught, to his touch, the silly jokes he would make...but that was in the past now.

With a bottle of shake you went to your home. Another day, another week, you should think on moving maybe that way it would hurt less. But the memories with him were deep in your mind and you could not shake them off.

You were going to Open the old door when you took notice that it was slighty Open.

A robbery ? The loan sharks decided to come ?

You moved the door slowly, the old thing making a sound that felt louder than it actually was. The aparment was dark, no light or sight of life. It was just and the forniture.

Or at least thats what you thoguth when suddendly you hear a muffled "fuck" and "I never cleaned that"

Even if it was small you knew in an instant from who it was. You went there, not caring if maybe your mind was playing you a cruel trick. You needed to know.

Once outside the bedroom you turned on the lights seeing his form trying (and failing) to repair some broken base he had most likely knock off.

You also took notice on the big spoot on the wall, yeah it was caused by him once and he never took care of it, but it added personality to the room.

He looked at you. Eyes big like a fish, he was a mess. Hair larger and dirty.

"Gi-hun?" You called taking a step towards him while he took one back. He did not want you to see him like this. He came on impulse, a rational part of him said to not come, but his feelings....he missed you. Wanted you again by his side.

"Please tell me this is real" You tried again voice now breaking as you stopped one hand reaching for him.

Gi-hun felt his heart break, he moved slowly taking your hand in his, the same hand that he had used to fight off Sang-woo was now holding yours.

He almost fell as you pulled him into a big hug, crying on his chest, you had to take a moment to listen to his heart beat. You eyes going over his face.

"Oh Gi-hun...what happened to you?" You asked pulling him for a hug again his own hands returning it with more force. He never wanted to let go of you again.

"(Y/N)...Please" His voice broke at the end "Hold me, I will tell you everytning but please"

He fell on his knees you followed still hugging him, his cries were muffled by your shirt as she held you like you were the only thing that could keep him sane.

"Shh I got you Gi-hun, let it out"

He cried for a bit more only moving when he felt you move from discomfort because of how you two were.

"Gi-hun...you should take a bath" You said to him very careful "I can prepare it for you.."

"Will you stay?" He asked his eyes letting out the raw vulnerability he was feeling

"Of course I will, I will stay with you"

~○~○~○~○~○~○~○~○~○~○

Gi-hun havent feel this...relaxed in such a long time. You carefully washed his hair, and relaxed his tensed back. There was nothing sexual out of it. Just you taking care of him.

And it felt like heaven.

"Im going to brush your hair a bit is that alright with you?" You asked from behind him inside the bathtub  worried that it might trigger something from him.

But Gi-hun just nodded letting out a content sound when the brush made contact with his hair. You were very patient with him, slowly untangling his now long hair. He knew he needed to get it cut off. But he had let himself be lost and...and he could not bring to take care of himself.

"We should also cut your beard too..if you want" You softly asked after you ended with his hair doing a small bow that made him look quiet cute.

He touched his beard without realizing how long it had got. But finally gave a nod to you. He saw you move towards the cabin getting the tools and now taking a seat in front of him.

"Im going to do this slow, ok? You tell me if I need to stop" You tone let him knew that he was the one in charge of the situation. You did not know what had happen to him but it must be more than the old threats the loan sharks would use against him.

No, this was something worse. And you wanted him to feel safe with you.

~○~○~○~○~○~○~○~○~

After it you offered him a fresh change of clothes. He asked you to stay with him and you nodded. He was slimmer than the last time you have seen him. And there were some bruises too. You wanted to ask him, to know what did happen. But you also knew he would come around, that you needed to be patient with him.

After he changed he muttered that he was tired and you were ready to guide him back towards the bedroom you two shared.

To him the bed sheets felt softer than he did remember. Even if the mattress was old it was better than the beds from the games. A shiver ran down his spine and he had to hold his head to prevent memories from coming back.

"Gi-hun..."

"Can you get me some water...? Please" Gi-hun asked his voice almost breaking. He did not want you to see him like this. So broken so....

He had no words to describe the pain he was feeling.

He felt when you left, and he decided to take some deep breaths, letting the familiar smell of the room fill his sense. He was back, he was at home.

"Gi-hun? I got your water?" You said from besides him giving him the glass as he gulped it down.

And you were with him.

He finally looked at you. Seeing how tired you were. It must have been difficult for you. To be alone and worried over him. He wanted to blame himself even more for leaving you like that. He did not deserve you and part of him wanted you to hate him for leaving and then be back without a explaination.

But as he looked all over you his eyes ended in your hand, most precise on the ring. You were still using it, a solid proof you never gave up on him.

"(Y/N).." Gi-hun said your name with so much care as he took your hands on his bring them up to kiss them. "Im sorry, im sorry that I left you. Im sorry for not coming back sooner" He said between broken sobs. "I know I must have caused you so much pain, and im so sorry for it"

"Gi-hun please stop, you know I would have waited for you a lifetime" You responded gently caressing his face "I dont know what happened to you, and you dont have to tell me. I will wait till you are ready. Just know, I love you. And that wont ever change, just...dont leave me again"

"Never, I wont ever leave you again (Y/N)...you are all I have and all I will ever have. You are the most important thing to me, and from now on I will do my best to show you how grateful im for you being by my side. For putting up with me"

You smiled at him giving him a soft kiss then pushing him down so he could get comfortable.

"And you are the best thing that ever happened to me Gi-hun. You dont have to prove me anything" You laid besides him both facing each other. He pulled you against his chest his face on your hair.

"Promise you wont ever let me go? Not tonight or ever ? Even if...things change" Gi-hun knew he was a different Man now, he could not just ignore his trauma. He was positive nightmares would still come to haunt him and that at some point he would tell you the truth.

But not tonight. Tonight all he wanted was for you to hold him and promise him that everything would be fine.

"I wont ever let you go Gi-hun, not tonight or ever. You are with me till death do us apart, remember ? Now get some sleep I will be here once you wake up"

And that was all he needed to hear. For the first time since he won these games...he got a nice sleep. Besides you anything seemed to be possible. Even finding his way back to life.

[dewdrops-whammy-bar]

Tenth Drink Free- Chapter 2

Chapter 2/10- Star Taglist: @skele-bunny @rain-loves-scallops @dewphomet

{1}

Second chapter let’s fucking goooooo In this one I’m gonna delve more into Dew’s mind, his backstory, and his (frankly awful) mental health. Oh and he’s going to jork his peanits in the shower. Warning for mentions of/allusions to self-harm and self-destructive behavior.

“You seem excited.” Rain remarks, draping himself over the back of the couch with a smug grin. Dew looks up from his cereal to glare at him.

“What gave you that impression?” He asks.

“You’re up before 10, you don’t have anything on your calendar for today, and you’ve got the closing shift tonight. There must be something going on that you’re excited for.” Rain counts off on his fingers. “Ooooh, have you got a date?”

(Read the rest below or on AO3)

“Why do you care?” Dew grumbles. “Looking for gossip? Wondering if I’m still single?”

“Oh, I know you’re still single. I’m just checking in on you. As a friend.” Rain bats his stupidly long eyelashes at Dew. “What’s so important that it got you out of bed at the ungodly hour of 9:24 in the morning?”

Dew knew the reason, he’d spent most of his afternoon and evening the previous day agonizing over Big Sexy like a schoolkid with a crush. He’d analyzed every word of their short conversation and picked apart every glance, trying to glean whatever subtext he could from it. THEN he’d had a particularly exciting dream that woke him up at 6. After about 45 minutes of vigorously jerking it, he’d given it a rest after his third orgasm. At that point he was too awake to go back to sleep so he’d just busied himself with various little tasks until he got hungry enough to venture out.

“Fucked my sleep schedule.” He shrugs.

“At least you fucked something.” Rain remarks, turning back around and plopping himself back on the couch. “I’m getting ready for class.”

“Well good for you. Enjoy your boring-ass lecture, I’ll be here writing music and playing video games.” Dew sniffs.

“Enjoy that, I guess. Hope you like that coffee shop.” Rain snips back.

The words stung a bit, even though they’re nothing Dew hadn’t heard- or thought -before. He’d escaped his small town by bus on his eighteenth birthday with his guitar and just enough money to get by for a few months. By the grace of some god, Rain was looking for a roommate in the area he ended up in.

He’d managed to get a job at Cloudy Skies by borderline begging Cumulus to hire him at his interview. It wasn’t entirely manipulation, he’d had a long day and had been rejected from five jobs in the past week. It was nearing the end of the month and his portion of rent was due soon and he was afraid he’d be forced to sell his beloved guitar. He couldn’t help breaking down when Cumulus asked about his lack of past employment. He still felt guilty for it, even though it was six years ago.

He doesn’t realize how deafening his silence was until Rain’s head pops up from behind the back of the couch again.

“I’m sorry.” The other man says softly. “I didn’t mean-“

“You’re fine.” Dew reassures him. “It’s… well, you know. A bit sore.”

“That’s fair. Sorry for bringing it up.” Rain sighs sheepishly. Dew just nods and returns his attention to his cereal.

He’d like to go to college, get a degree in music or music education, but he’s broke. His job pays enough to cover rent and groceries and medication but that doesn’t leave much left over to pay for any classes. Student loans aren’t much of an option for him either, he doesn’t have much credit and being in debt stresses him out severely. He’s scared he’ll be stuck working customer service his entire life, a starving artist overlooked by everyone.

The texture of soggy cereal in his mouth almost makes him gag. He gets up from the table and puts his bowl in the sink, heading back to his room.

The rest of the morning passes normally once Dew cheers himself up again. He even manages to snag the pedal he was after (granted, for a little more than what he’d limited himself to spend, but whatever). He then celebrates by parking himself on the living room couch with a family sized bag of Takis and a controller and dedicates the next few hours to Resident Evil.

Eventually Dew gets bored and wanders back to his room to get dressed for work. He finds himself actually caring about his outfit for once. He settles on celestial-patterned skinny jeans and a black and red button-up shirt. He’s even compelled to slap on some eyeliner.

He realizes halfway through the eyeliner application process that he might be doing this in case he sees Aether again. He groans, drops his makeup pencil on the desk, and leans back to stare at the ceiling. He was too old to be having a crush. He had more important things to worry about. He wasn’t in high school anymore, putting on his best “pastor’s daughter” act and fluttering his eyelashes at the football team captain. That guy turned out to be an asshole anyway.

“Come on.” Dew grumbles. “You are a grown ass man.” He knows the drill- be infatuated by someone for a few weeks, create an idea of what they’re like in his head, finally push down his self-loathing enough to talk to them, and be disappointed by how they actually are. It’s happened too many times to count. It’d only turned out positively once- with Rain. They’d fucked a few times but decided to stay as friends, much to Dew’s relief.

He picks up the pencil again and finishes his makeup. He almost doesn’t want to see Aether again. He’d just be disappointed and go home and sulk in bed and give Rain another reason to tease him.

But he has bills to pay and a six-stringed child to care for. So he hauls his ass to Cloudy Skies, clocks in, and parks himself behind the register. He just has to get through a 5-hour shift. He can do five hours, that’s like three runthroughs of his favorite playlist.

“Hi D-dew!” Aeon chirps with a wave. Dew gives them a nod and a brief smile as he passes them in the kitchen. Aeon’s the most recent hire, a bright-eyed (well, in only one eye, the other was blind) 20-year-old computer science student working part-time. Dew doesn’t like change so he wasn’t a fan of Aeon to begin with, but they’ve grown on him. They’re like him- a weird kid trying to carve out a safe place in a scary world. He’d taken them under his wing as soon as he’d gotten used to having another person in the shop. He’d almost torn Swiss a new asshole the only time he dared to mock their stutter.

Dew glances around to make sure Cirrus wasn’t around and pops in one of his shitty wireless earbuds. Some music would make his shift a tiny bit more bearable. The opening notes of Toxicity filter through the tinny speaker of the earbud and he sighs with relief.

The afternoon crowd of students begin to flood into the shop and he’s quickly busy making drinks and heating up pastries. Sunny joins him behind the counter to help, thankfully.

He’s so busy with work that he doesn’t notice Aether has entered until he’s staring at that glorious chest with- dear lord, his shirt is unbuttoned an absolutely slutty amount.

”Hey, what can I get fOr you?” Dew’s voice cracks and he inwardly cringes.

”Hi, can I have a, um-“ Aether looks down at his hand. Dew sees smudged purple ink creeping over the side of his palm. “Cold brew with hazelnut syrup? Large, please.”

The same thing as last time- Dew’s own recommendation. His heart flutters. Stop it.

He grabs a large cold cup and jots down the order- and Aether’s name- before punching it into the register. “Yep. Anything else?”

”That’s it, thank you.” Aether smiles and Dew notices his crooked teeth. Fucking adorable. Jesus, stop it. You’re on the clock. 

“That’s $5.06.” Dew manages to get out. He takes the cash Aether hands over, along with the punch card. The hole punch today is a star. The heart-shaped hole from last time taunts him.

”I’ll have that right out for you.” He tells Aether as he hands the card over and slides the cup into the queue waiting to be filled. He allows his eyes to linger for a second on Aether’s absolutely perfect ass as he leaves before he turns to serve the next customer.

Between taking orders and making drinks, Dew sneaks glances over at where Aether’s decided to sit. He’s pulled out a laptop covered in stickers and seems to be studying. He’s wearing glasses, much to Dew’s delight (followed by annoyance) and his brows are slightly furrowed. Goddamnit. Out of all the people to have a puppy crush on it had to be a customer. Fucking amazing, thank you brain.

When Dew ventures into the back to take his break, he’s cut off by a very smug-looking Swiss leaning against the counter.

”So.” The man starts. “Sunny told me you have a crush.”

”Well, she’d be wrong. I don’t have crushes.” Dew ducks under his arm and makes a beeline for the back door. How did she know already? What the actual fuck?

”If you say so.” Swiss shrugs. Dew slams the back door before he can continue.

He eyes the brick wall, wondering if it’s worth it to punch. He’s gotta get his annoyance out somehow before he snaps at someone. He settles for kicking it instead. It only relieves his tension a little bit.

Dew digs his pack of cigarettes out of his pocket and sparks one up. The acrid smell calms him despite burning his nostrils. He hates the taste and smell of cigarettes but at least it’s something he can rely on to calm him. Vaping just doesn’t bring the same satisfaction- he’s tried. He knows he’s gotta quit but he’d just turn to other bad habits to replace it. He’s convinced himself it’s a form of harm reduction.

Dew grinds his teeth together. He’s thinking about his emotions again. He can’t afford to sink into self-pity again. He needs to pull himself together before he starts crying. He hasn’t cried in years and he’s not about to start now. Especially not at work.

His cig is only half-finished but he stubs it out anyway and heads back inside. A glass of water and a mint rinse the taste out of his mouth and he takes his place at the big industrial sink in the kitchen for dish duty. He’s glad he doesn’t have to interact with customers for the rest of his shift. As much as he’d like to ogle Aether, it’s probably best if he takes his mind off him.

He scrubs pans and mugs and plates and utensils and baking tools until his forearms burn and turns up his music. He estimates his playlist has cycled through about two and a half times by the time Sunny taps him out at the sink.

“Stop spreading gossip about me.” He tells her, a bit harsher than he intended it to be. “Swiss is gonna be on my case for months, you know how he is.”

“Maybe you should get off your ass and ask him out. It’s the big guy, button up shirt, nice piercings, right?” Sunny grins at him and flutters her eyelashes. “He’s hot. Might have to make a move if you don’t.”

Dew sighs. “I don’t have a crush. Yeah, he’s hot, but I’ve got no desire to date him,” He hisses under his breath. The little lovesick voice in his head wails at the thought of Aether going out with someone else.

“Sounds like someone who’s got a crush…” She whispers back and winks at him. “Cir wants you to clear the pastry counter, by the way. Enjoy the view.”

Dew doesn’t dignify that last remark with an answer, only takes his earbuds out and walks over to Cirrus at the other end of the kitchen. She looks up from jotting notes on her clipboard and rubs her eyes.

“Hey Dew. Could you do me a favor and empty out the glass display?” She asks while stifling a yawn. “Sorry. Long day.”

“Understandable. I’ll get right on that.” Dew gives her a two-finger salute, which she returns. His spirits lifted somewhat at the prospect of first dibs on the leftover treats, he trots back out behind the counter.

Aeon sits at the stool behind the register, sneakily tapping away at their phone. Dew bumps them with his shoulder as he passes.

“Careful. Cirrus’ll give you an earful if she sees you on your phone,” he mutters. “I swear, she acts like an overbearing mother sometimes.”

“I know. I w-would have put it away if I’d-d heard her footst-steps.” Aeon shoots him a conspiratorial grin. Dew blinks.

“You’ve memorized her footsteps?” He asks, somewhat amazed. “In three weeks of being here?”

Aeon shrugs. “I’m good at-t patterns.” They turn back down to their phone and resume tapping. Dew sneaks a peek at their screen and sees they’re filling out a Sudoku puzzle with frightening speed. He shrugs and lets them be.

The pastry display is picked clean, only a few crescent rolls and a lone muffin remain. Dew picks them out with tongs and places them on a plate. On habit he glances over to the corner where Aether sat- and still sits, to his surprise. He seems to be taking a break from studying, instead leaning back in his chair and reading a book.

Dew opens the warmer on the countertop and slides the muffin inside. He adds one of the crescent rolls after some consideration and shuts the machine. The few minutes it takes to warm up the pastries are spent wiping down counters and collecting tools to be washed.

He returns from the kitchen and slides the baked goods from the warmer onto a plate. He hesitates, takes a deep breath, and walks out into the seating area.

Aether looks up as he approaches, pushing his glasses up to his forehead with a tired smile.

“We’re closing in around twenty minutes.” Dew lowers his voice a bit, glancing at the few other people in the shop. “Thought you might want some leftover snacks. Don’t tell anyone.” He smiles and sets the plate next to Aether’s laptop.

“Oh, awesome. I was just wondering what I was gonna have for dinner.” The man smiles with those adorable crooked teeth. “Thanks for the heads up. And the food.”

“‘Course.” Dew smiles back, stomach doing flips. He sneaks a peek at Aether’s book- it’s a well-worn paperback with… two shirtless men on the cover. Well, that answered the question on whether he liked men or not. Dew actually had a chance.

He walks away to notify the other stragglers and wipe down tables. Aether only leaves five minutes before closing, waving at Dew as he did. Goddamnit he’s cute.

Dew has another cigarette on his way home to try to clear his head. He knows Rain hates the smell of smoke but he’ll shower as soon as he gets home.

The front door squeals as Dew enters the apartment, making him wince. He kicks his boots off, drops his bag, and makes his way to his room. Rain’s door is closed so he’s either gaming or jerking off. Dew fights the urge to just collapse on his bed. He knows he’ll never get up that way, and he’d rather not have aching ribs tomorrow from over-binding.

So he grabs his sleeping shirt and fresh underwear and drags himself to the bathroom. He’s out of makeup remover so he just rubs his eyes with a damp cotton pad until his eyeliner is gone. It leaves the skin raw and he winces.

The hot shower water soothes him. He closes his eyes as he massages shampoo into his hair and allows his mind to drift. It immediately goes to Big Sexy. He’s too tired to resist it- fantasizing would probably get the silly crush out of his system faster anyway.

He imagines Aether’s hands in his hair, combing through it gently as they kiss. How warm his lips would be, the scratch of his beard scruff against his neck, his large hands holding Dew’s waist, squeezing his chest, pushing his thighs open-

“Haaaaah…” Dew leans against the shower wall and tips his head back to avoid the spray. His hands explore his body- not as big as Aether’s, but he can pretend. His hand finally dips between his legs to find himself already slick and ready.

He pushes his middle and ring fingers into his cunt with a gasp. “Aether…” He pumps them in and out, imagining the bigger man’s fingers instead. The fingers of his other hand pet over his clit as he imagines Aether’s tongue in their place. Dark blue eyes look up at him through long brown eyelashes, fingers curling right up into that perfect spot, a low chuckle as Dew whines.

He imagines Aether pulling back and he whines again. “Noooooo…” Fantasy-Aether just grins, uses those big hands to flip him onto his stomach, and eases his cock into him. Dew adds two more fingers, moaning at the stretch. “Aeth- oh my god-“

Fantasy-Aether fucks him hard and deep, groaning unspeakably sexy things in Dew’s ear. Dew cums hard, thighs shaking as he clenches and flutters around his fingers. He sinks to his knees and braces his hand on the side of the bathtub as he rides out his orgasm.

“Fuck…” Dew mumbles as he washes off his hands in the now- lukewarm water. He’s embarrassed now- he just jerked off to a customer. He hasn’t technically done anything wrong, he’s free to crank it to whatever his dick desires, but he’s pretty sure he won’t be able to look Aether in the eyes for a good week. Incredibly awkward.

He gets out of the shower, dries off, and changes into pajamas. ‘Pajamas’ is pushing it though, it’s one of those T-shirts with three wolves superimposed over a full moon and forest that’s four sizes too big and boxers.

Dew returns to his room, hair still wrapped up in a towel, and collapses into bed. He’s tired from having emotions all the time. It makes him have to think about his life and if he does that too much he starts to spiral. A therapist would probably tell him to start thinking about his emotions and to stop smoking, but he doesn’t have a therapist. He’s fine as is, as long as he takes his meds. He pays too much for them anyway, he’s not gonna shell out another hundred a week for someone with a degree to tell him to breathe.

There he goes, spiraling again. Dew punches his pillow in frustration. As he rolls onto his back his eyes fall on the notebook on the floor next to his guitar.

He hasn’t journaled in years. The idea makes him want to laugh but… if he can get his thoughts out of his head and onto paper maybe they’ll leave him the fuck alone.

Dew drags himself out of bed and settles on the floor with the notebook. He chews on the cap of the pen tucked into the wire spine and hesitantly touches the tip of the pen to the page.

The next thing he knows he’s filled three pages, front and back. His handwriting is messier than usual- almost illegible- and he can barely remember what he wrote. Probably for the best.

Tearing the pages out of the notebook, Dew crumples them up and reels his arm back to toss them into his garbage can. He hesitates.

Instead, he opens one of his dresser drawers and shoves the wadded paper way into the back. It finds a home among his holey socks and empty deodorant sticks (he really should throw those out). He shoves the drawer closed a little harder than he really needs to. It feels good.

He takes his hair out of the towel and tosses it across the room. He’s too tired to put it into its usual braid, he doesn’t care if it’s frizzy tomorrow. Finally, Dew crawls under the covers with his hair still damp and goes to sleep.

Drop a kudos and comment on AO3!

[ukrfeminism]

A social worker turned interior designer is tackling furniture poverty by transforming the homes of social housing tenants through her charity.

Emily Wheeler, founder of Furnishing Futures, says the need for her charity is not just cosmetic design - domestic abuse survivors are often driven back to their perpetrators after being given empty social housing with no beds for their children.

When families escaping domestic violence are rehoused by their local council, properties are often stripped of all white goods, furniture, and flooring for health and safety reasons.

Having left their old homes suddenly without any of their belongings, families often end up in a flat or house with nowhere to cook or store food and no beds to sleep in, Emily Wheeler, founder of the charity Furnishing Futures, tells Sky News.

"There are no curtains at the windows, there's no oven, no fridge, no washing machine," she says. "Children are expected to sleep on concrete floors with no beds or bedding.

"Mothers may have experienced economic abuse or coercion and might not have access to their money and find themselves having to start again.

"So you can understand why some women think 'this is actually no better for my children than going back to my previous situation'."

Emily has been a frontline social worker in east London for more than 20 years. During a career break, during which she had her two children, she retrained as an interior designer.

When she returned to social work in 2014, she says austerity meant council budgets were being cut and previously available grants for social housing tenants were no longer funded.

"I've always seen furniture poverty throughout my career, but it had got worse," she says.

"I was meeting families living in these conditions without furniture and without access to support.

"When you look at the amount of stuff councils have to spend money on just to keep people safe, furniture isn't the priority."

Moved into empty flat two days after giving birth

Laura, not her real name, moved between different emergency accommodations while she was pregnant with her first child after being abused by her ex-partner.

She says she was offered a council flat two days after giving birth.

"When I first moved in it was all dirty, there was no furniture, no carpet, no cooker, fridge, or washing machine.

"I had to take out an emergency loan from Universal Credit to get away from my partner, so I didn't have any money left when my baby was born. The first couple of nights I could only eat takeaway food because there was nothing to cook with.

"It had concrete floors. I'd get up in the middle of the night to make my baby a bottle and it would be freezing, so I had to put blankets all over the floor."

Chief executive of the National Housing Federation Kate Henderson says: "In social housing, carpets have historically been removed as standard practice for practical reasons, to ensure hygiene between lets and to prevent any possible contamination.

"In some cases, housing associations provide new flooring as standard when a home is re-let, or in other cases they may provide decorating vouchers to new tenants, which can be used for flooring of their choice."

According to a 2021 study by the campaign group End Furniture Poverty, only 1% of social housing properties are furnished.

Councils under 'no legal obligation' 

The Housing Act 1985 states that a local authority "may fit out, furnish and supply a house provided by them with all requisite furniture, fittings and conveniences".

But Emily says this means there is no legal obligation to do so.

"Councils are fulfilling their duty by providing housing, so in the eyes of the law they're not doing anything wrong.

"But having an empty shell of concrete is not a home - just because you're not on the streets."

Having seen the problem on a wider scale when she began chairing multi-agency child protection conferences, she decided to combine her skills as a designer and social worker - and create a charity to help bridge the gap.

Furnishing Futures was set up in 2019. Emily and her team refloor, paint, and furnish empty properties given to trauma and domestic abuse survivors by councils.

She uses her industry connections, which include Soho House, DFS, Dunelm, and others, to source donated furniture, and fundraises for the rest.

She believes it is the only charity of its kind in the UK.

So far they have furnished more than 80 homes across east London, and a pilot scheme with Waltham Forest council and housing association Peabody will see another three completed there.

But with thousands of families on social housing waiting lists in each of the capital's 32 boroughs alone, she wants to expand nationally.

"The hardest thing about my job is having to say no to people because we don't have the capacity," she says.

"Every day we get inquiries from women, midwives, health visitors, other local authorities, domestic abuse agencies - but we're just a small team and the demand is huge."

The charity has a 4,000-square-foot warehouse, a team of five full-time staff, and a group of regular volunteers who help with flooring, painting, and assembling furniture.

As situations are often urgent, work is usually done in just one day.

Empty homes are form of 'revictimisation'

Jen Cirone, director of services at Solace Women's Aid, one of the charity's partners, says being housed in an empty home and having to start again is a form of "revictimisation".

But she says of the charity: "It's not only the practicalities of having a beautiful space to live in but also demonstrates that others care.

"Together, Furnishing Futures is able to complete the road to recovery that work with Solace has put them on."

Hannah, not her real name, is another of Emily's clients.

She was homeless after leaving her ex-partner and given emergency accommodation a day before she was due to give birth to her first child.

"I felt extremely stressed and vulnerable," she says. "As a victim of domestic violence and heavily pregnant, I already felt alone and unsupported.

"This empty space didn't feel like 'home' and it certainly wasn't suitable for baby."

As a type one diabetic she also had nowhere to store her insulin injections, she adds.

"I ended up staying in hospital for some time due to an emergency C-section and during that time Emily turned my empty, scary space into a home for me and my child."

Emily says that although COVID and the cost-of-living crisis have opened the conversation about poverty and how it affects domestic abuse survivors, the situation is "worse than ever".

"We're not just talking about poverty now, we're talking about destitution," she says.

"People need safe and comfortable homes. You won't be able to recover from trauma, rebuild your life, and be a productive part of society if you don't have your basic needs met."

A Department for Levelling Up, Housing and Communities spokesperson said: "Domestic abuse survivors deserve a safe home and we are grateful to Furnishing Futures for the work they do to help these families rebuild their lives.

"We expect social housing providers to play their part and provide homes that are of a decent quality, if tenants are unhappy, we encourage them to speak to their landlords.

"Our Social Housing Regulation Act is also driving up standards and strengthened the role of the Ombudsman so that it is easier for tenants to raise complaints."

[melancholicstation]

LONER!BOBBY AND POPULAR!READER HEADCANONS — modern! bobby f. kennedy ᥫ᭡

taglist: @remotewatch @bloxholden35 @starsprangledgirl @h-l-v-kennedy-blog @h-l-vlovesvintage @absurdlyvintage @chemicalw0rld @fortheloveofjos @kimcrystal123 @astro-vibes-bro

word count: 989

you meet during co-ed sailing at the college in which bobby, in all his clodhopping charm, accidentally capsizes the small sailing boat ( that, to his credit, looked about as sturdy as the remote controlled boats loaned out in central park )

expecting you to freak out bobby immediately moves to provide incessant apologies, looking and sounding like an about to be scolded boy, but is eventually dismantled by your acceptance and carefree attitude.

stupidly bobby had regarded your personality to match your exterior: heeled boots, glossy lips, hair misted by diptique’s ‘do son’ and a trusty gel lacquer of 151 pirate polish always freshly applied. in his un-frontal lobe developed brain he thought that the prissy nature of your appearance would influence your temperament when dealing with him.

he was quite shocked to find the polar opposite.

after co-ed sailing you hit it off, purely as friends at first but not without your friends constant teasing of your friendship. mostly because of your polar opposite demeanours

bobby’s being one shrewd in mystery and signposted by: his quiet affliction when dining in the cafeteria, shocked and startled by even the most casual expressions of noise. not heterogeneous to that of a undomesticated fawn.

to get to and fro the campus and the sixty-three acreage that was the schools athletic centre bobby would only carry the upmost essentials to his very being: saratoga tortoise shell reading glasses, an agamemnon by aeschylus first edition hardback, and his iPhone 6 plus encased in a intrecciato colorblocked leather briefcase that was comically big for his slender model-esk frame

being that bobby had no instagram account ( despite him being an anomaly in the chronically online classmates ) communication was tricky to say the least

after a series of misguided letters back and forth placed by bobby into your locker and vice versa, you eventually exchanged numbers

despite this, on occasion, bobby slips note cards in varying hues of lilac, honey orange, and taupe into your locker accompanied by hand-written quotes by your favourite writers: joan didion and virginia woolf alongside a clumsily taped blue-raspberry salt water taffy with such care that could only be achieved via a love-sick collegiate-aged boy

when invited to your house, you quickly excuse yourself and tell bobby to let himself into your bedroom. you find him awkwardly positioning himself on your bed, covered in pink floral print, half-sitting on the bed while looking comedically uncomfortable

it’s not until his fourth visit that he begins to perform comfort and seems at peace, finally finding a non-chaotic safe place to metaphorically rest his head, a place without the chaotic nature of his home situation with his 8 rambunctious siblings

when you and your popular cliche encourage him to come to one of your famous beach bashes he’s understandably hesitant but cannot resistant your batting eyelashes and soft assurances while scratching his head that you’ll be there the entire time right alongside him.

so he goes and gets completely trashed. like BLIND drunk due to his inexperienced tolerance to alcohol at about 10:00pm. the party started at only 8:30pm…

neither of you seem to mind: with yourself being smitten towards his loosening of ambitions and his platonic touchiness brought on by his intoxication, and bobby being interior too trashed to know right from left.

the party ends around 12pm with you slinging bobby’s pashmina cardigan over your right shoulder, and trying to gather bobby frame on your left to reach the uber

END OF SFW HC’s NSFW IS AFTER THIS POINT!

loves to have you sit on his face but your constantly making sure your not hurting him until he eventually shuts you up with an climax or seven what who said thatttt

you love to give bobby hickies just for the fun of seeing what creative ways he chooses to style his outfits in an effort to hide them. what you don’t love is your friends incessant teasing of both him and you as a result

popular!reader loves to put her fingers in bobby’s mouth during s*x just cause she finds it hot

your always giving him love bites

like he’s sometimes so cute in his button up and misplaced tie that you just want to bite his cute arms all over!

both of you are a big a fan of mutual masturbation over facetime

always making love raw, so much that it’s a miracle that you aren’t both parents by the age of 20

definitely pulls your hips back to him if he feels you squirming while eating you out

he definitely asks you to marry him two months into dating during a passionate sexual escapade

is a tits man through and through

will hold your boobs in his sleep

has a mysterious exterior with all your friends but is a total blob of sincerity whenever your alone together

loves to feed you honeycombs as an aftercare ritual, doesn’t matter the time or place

he loves to be pulled by the hair sorryyyyy

is very turned on when you get jealous of girls talking to bobby, now that he’s adjacent to the popular crowd

he adores dry humping sorry someone had to say it and i guess that person is me

you ab ride bobby when he’s all sweating from karate practice ( cause he’s a loser like that )

bobby likes that your the taller one in the relationship unresolved dominance kink that will never be explored

only time he feels undeniably confident and himself is when he’s in bed with you…

because you both still live with your parents you make it a game to see who can stay quiet the longest

you make brief, short home videos together but bobby’s too paranoid and you eventually delete all evidence of it’s existence to ease his mind.

[mcmansionhell]

pre-recession, post-taste

Hello, everyone. I hope this blog can bring some well-needed laughs in really trying times. That's why I've gone back into the archives of that precipitous year 2007, a year where the McMansion was sleepwalking into being a symbol of the financial calamity to follow. We return to the Chicago suburbs once more because they remain the highest concentration of houses in their original conditions. Thanks to our flipping predilection, these houses become rarer and rarer and I have to admit even I have developed a fondness for them as a result.

Our present house is ostensibly "French Provincial" in style, which is McMansion for "Chateaux designed by Carmela Soprano". It boasts 7 bedrooms, 8.5 bathrooms, and comes in at a completely reasonable 15,000 square feet. It can be yours for an equally reasonable $1.5 million.

Every 2007 McMansion needed two things: a plethora of sitting rooms and those dark wood floors. This house actually has around five or six sitting rooms (depending if you count the tiled sunroom) but for brevity's sake, I'll only provide two of them.

With regards to the second sitting room, I'm really not one to talk statuary here because beside me there is a bust of Dante where the sculptor made him look simultaneously sickly and lowkey hot.

Technically, if we are devising a dichotomy between sitting and not sitting (yes, I know about the song), the dining room also counts as a sitting room. The more chairs in your McMansion dining room, the more people allegedly like you enough to travel 2.5 hours in traffic to see you twice a year.

Here's the thing about nostalgia: the world as we knew it then is never coming back. In some ways this is sad (kitchens are entirely white now and marble countertops will look terrible in about 3 years) but in other ways this is very good (guys in manhattan have switched to private equity instead of betting the farm on credit default swaps made from junk mortgages proffered to America's most vulnerable and exploited populations.) Progress!

Okay I really don't understand the 50 bed pillows thing. Every night my parents tossed their gazillion decorative pillows on the floor just to put them back on the bed the next morning. Like, for WHAT? Who was going in there? The Pope?

Here's a fun one for your liminal spaces moodboards. (Speaking for myself.)

Yes, I know about skibidi toilet. And sticking out your gyatt for the rizzler. I wish I didn't. I wish I couldn't read. Literacy is like a mirror in which I only see the aging contours of my face.

When your kids move out every room becomes a guest room.

Anyway, let's see what the rear of this house has to offer.

The migratory birds will not forgive them for their crimes. But also seriously, not even a garden?

Anyway, that does it for this round of McMansion Hell. Happy Halloween!

If you like this post and want more like it, support McMansion Hell on Patreon for as little as $1/month for access to great bonus content including a discord server, extra posts, and livestreams.

Not into recurring payments? Try the tip jar! Student loans just started back up!

[recycledmoviecostumes]

This stunning antique French bed, circa the 1860s, was designed in the Louis XVI manner and was hand embroidered with Chinese silk panels. It was used in Gone with the Wind as Scarlett O’Hara’s bed after she marries Rhett Butler. 

The bed went up for auction at Julien’s in 2019, selling for $51,200. The previous owner claimed that the bed had been loaned to David O. Selznick by a prominent Southern California family and then returned. While this certainly may be true, the bed somehow made it back to the prop house for MGM before being given back to the family, as the piece did make a second appearance in the 1940 film All This, And Heaven Too. It was used as the bed of the Duchesse de Praslin, played by Barbara O’Neil, who had starred as Scarlett O’Hara’s mother the year before in Gone with the Wind. 

Costume Credit: Katie S.

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[joseigamer]

I finally found the source for the interview between Satomi Tadashi and Kazuma Kaneko (main writer and artist) where they literally call Tatsuya and Jun gay - (”homo” - english loan word). It’s from the Innocent Sin World artbook (pub. in 2000). Here is the translation, and here is a link to the artbook. It’s on page 32. It’s not like this is anything new, but I feel like it’s important to have the original text onhand when sharing stuff like this! Translation under the cut for ease of access/archival purposes:

— What do you think Jun thinks of Lisa and Tatsuya’s relationship? SATOMI: I think he wants Lisa to be a bit more gentle with Tatsuya. KANEKO: She’s really got a jealous nature, doesn’t she? “Shaddup, woman.” Didn’t everyone expect Jun to say that? And then he’d say “Tatsuya, hold my hand a little bit tighter please.” SATOMI: Well, everyone is free to think what they like about that. *laugh* Personally, I don’t think he’s necessarily gay. KANEKO: Jun isn’t gay…but he likes Tatsuya, right? SATOMI: He likes him. If Tatsuya asked, “Do you like me?” Jun would say, “I like you!” KANEKO: Tatsuya would ask “Do you like me”? SATOMI: I think he’d ask like that. KANEKO: I think he’d say something like “What do you think of me?” And then Jun would say, “I like you!” SATOMI: If Jun said something like that, he would turn his back and seem happy. KANEKO: Who would? SATOMI: Tatsuya would. KANEKO: Tatsuya would turn his back and say, “You do?” happily? Well then, he’s gay, isn’t he! SATOMI: *laugh* …that’s why I said that everyone can think as they like about that issue. KANEKO: Well, I don’t know much about that field, anyway. I’ll have to do a little more homework. Hey, does Jun have thick hair? SATOMI: It’s not thick. KANEKO: And Tatsuya’s hair isn’t thick either? SATOMI: Right. So even if it gets tangled together, they’ll be okay. (NOTE: This refers to old, old literary references in which two people slept together in the same bed, so close together that their hair got tangled together.) KANEKO: What, so they really are gay. I see, so they’re gay, huh…Well, then Jun’s probably thought of assassinating Lisa? By setting some sort of trap for her…

[credit to chthonian.net for the translation]

[samaraannhan20]

Austin Butler Imagine: College AU! Yes to the Dress

Warnings: College! reader, Agegap! (About 10 years)

〰️〰️〰️〰️〰️〰️〰️〰️〰️〰️〰️〰️〰️〰️〰️〰️

“What time are your friends arriving tomorrow?” Austin asks me as we lay down in bed for the night. I curl myself up into his side before I respond. 

“Well Kyra is driving in and will get here around 6 pm. I have a girls day with the whole group on Saturday. Tara and Alice are flying in and we need to go pick them up at noon. Oh and my mom and sister will be here by 6 as well.”

“What are you doing for your girls day on Saturday?” he asks as he reaches over and turns off our lamp which in turns places us in the dark, with only the glow of the background movie still giving us light. 

“We’re going to brunch, and then going dress shopping. I’m going to ask everyone to be my bridesmaid after they all get here tomorrow night, so we’ll also look for bridesmaid dresses while we’re dress shopping probably,” I say as I turn the tv off. 

“Are you excited?” he asks me as we turn and face each other in the bed. 

“I am. I am so excited to have a wedding and end the day married to you. Although, as much as I love weddings I could probably just go to the courthouse and marry you right now.”

“I would do the same. But there is no reason to rush it. It won’t be a huge wedding anyway. Family and friends,” he says with a small smile. 

“Yes. Family and friends. I hope Baz and Catherine can come. I miss getting to see them,” I say as I close my eyes. “And Miss Priscilla. I’m already trying to figure out a way to wear the bracelet she gave me at the premiere on our wedding day.”

“No one will even notice if it doesn’t match. If you want to wear it and it's important to you, wear it,” he says, placing a kiss on my forehead. “Now turn around so we can cuddle and go to sleep. We can keep wedding planning tomorrow,” he says, and moves away so I have room to turn over. 

〰️〰️〰️〰️〰️〰️〰️〰️〰️〰️〰️〰️〰️〰️〰️

“Hey Aus?”

“Yeah darlin?” he asks as he rounds the corner to the living room where I am seated. 

“Mom said she should be here in like an hour and a half. Is that guest room ready?”

“You mean the one on the exact opposite side of the house than our room? Also known as the room we only use when your family is in town?” he says with a small laugh, pressing a kiss to my forehead as he comes up behind me. “Yeah, it’s ready.”

“And what about Ella’s room? Right next to it?” 

“Yep. Both rooms that are the farthest away from us are ready, in order to stop family members from being scarred by the fact that we have sex,” he says with a laugh and then starts massaging my shoulders. “Baby you need to loosen up. It’s not the wedding weekend yet. We’re ten months away from that.”

“Yeah I know, but I’m asking the girls to be my bridesmaids this weekend, and asking Kyra to be my maid of honor, and not all of the parts of the gifts are here yet and I need them to be here before Kyra, Tara, and Alice get here because I don’t want them to see it before I give it to them later tonight.”

“You could always give it to them tomorrow night,” he says as he continues massaging my shoulders. 

“No, because I want to look at a few bridesmaid dresses while we’re dress shopping tomorrow,” I tell him, bending my head back to look at him. 

“Oh right,” he says, and lets go of my shoulders, choosing instead to walk around the couch and sit down, grabbing my arm and pulling me into him. “Speaking of dress shopping, there’s a credit card on the counter for you.”

“What? Why?” I ask him, pulling a little away so I can look into his eyes. 

“Because you’re still paying student loans, you shouldn’t be worrying about how you’re going to pay for a wedding dress. It's as much for me as it is for you, so I want to pay for it. And for the bridesmaid dresses so that no one has to worry about how they’re going to pay for it.” 

“Austin, no. If the tabloids learn about that they’ll call me a gold digger. Again,” I say, enunciating the ‘again’ because I have been accused of that at least three times in the past.

“So what if they do? You and I both know that is not why you’re with me. Along with our entire group of family and friends. I want to take care of it, please let me,” he says, whispering on the last part. I launch myself into his lap, and pepper kisses all over his face and neck.

〰️〰️〰️〰️〰️〰️〰️〰️〰️〰️〰️〰️〰️〰️〰️

“Hey everyone! Dinner is ready!” I holler from the kitchen where I stand with Austin. He drops a kiss on my forehead as he walks out of the room, heading to the living room to avoid the chaos that is about to ensue. I wait silently as my closest friends and mom and sister walk into the kitchen. They all start to reach for plates, but I stop them. 

“Actually, there is one thing I would like to do before eating. If you would follow me,” I say with a smirk and then walk into the dining room. I walk to stand next to Austin as they all walk in the room, and notice the different boxes with each of their names on it. “Please find your name and then sit down at that spot. Do not open your box until I say to open it,” I tell them, and they all follow and sit down in their seats. When they are all sitting and settled down I speak up again. 

“You all already know what this is,” I start with a small laugh, and they all laugh and cheer in agreement. “However, there is an order I would like to do this in. Starting with Kyra, you can go ahead and open yours,” I say, and she immediately opens her box. She tears up when she realizes what it is. 

“You want me to be your maid of honor?” she says with tears in her eyes, looking at me. I nod, also tearing up. She stands up and walks over to me, giving me a hug. When she pulls away she looks from me to Ella and then back again. “What about Ella? She’s your sister,” she says, concern washing over her face. 

“We talked. We both agreed it was more of a job for someone who was old enough to drink legally when I turn into bridezilla,” I say with a laugh, wiping my eyes. Everyone in the room laughs, and I give Kyra one last hug before shooing her back to her seat. “Okay, everyone else you can open your boxes now,” I say to them, and they all rip open their boxes. “Mom there is also one for you, but just a gift. Not asking you to be a bridesmaid,” I say with a laugh, and watch as she rips into her box as well. 

As they get into their boxes they jump up and down and start crying, before swarming me into a group hug. Out of the corner of my eye I can see Austin standing in the corner taking a picture of us, and I start to cry even more. 

“Okay wait though, do you guys wanna see what I got Ashley’s daughter to ask her to be my flower girl?” I say after a few minutes when we all pull away and are wiping our eyes. They all cheer yes, so I go over to the hall closet and pull out the box that I got her. I bring it over to the table and open the box, causing a loud chorus of ‘aww’.

“That is the cutest thing I have ever seen,” Tara says, and we all just laugh. As I close the box up and go put it back in the closet I shout over my shoulder “there’s pizza in the kitchen!” I laugh as I hear everyone stampede into the kitchen. While they’re all distracted I walk to Austin and wrap my arms around him. 

“I love you,” he says as I lay my head on his chest. 

“I love you. And I can’t wait to be Mrs. Austin Butler,” I say, pulling my head back to look up at him. He leans down and kisses me, and as he does we hear another chorus of awws and pull away with a laugh, turning to look at the doorway to the kitchen where all of the bridesmaids stand. I feel him press a kiss to the top of my head as he pulls out of my arms, and takes my hand to lead me into the kitchen for food. 

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“You know, you never told me how you and Austin met,” Alice says in the middle of brunch on Saturday. 

“Really?” I say around the mouthful of food I just shoved in my mouth. Kyra laughs with my little sister as little bits of food fly out of my mouth. 

“Graceful,” my mother mutters with a small smile coming across her face. 

“Yes, really. You just called one day and told me that I would never believe who you were dating before blurting out that you were dating Austin. And then you said you had to go call some other important family members because an article would probably drop before you had the chance to tell them if you didn’t tell them right then. And we never discussed it again,” Alice says, looking at me expectantly. 

“I know the story,” Kyra and Tara say at the same time, before looking at each other and laughing. 

“So do we,” my sister says, pointing at herself and my mother. 

“Oh. Well I guess you only got to know the full story if I lived with you,” I say, looking at Tara with a laugh. “Well mom, Ella, and Kira also knew because they have known everything since the start. Kira knows more than anyone else, because I had many anxious discussions with her leading up to us officially getting together three years ago,” I say, taking one last bite of food and then pushing my plate away, before diving into the story. 

〰️〰️〰️〰️〰️〰️〰️〰️〰️〰️〰️〰️

Flashback to May 2021

“Okay. You guys have two hours of studio time to get this take today,” the executive says to the choir as we all stand in the recording studio. Our director nods and then gets our attention to start the singing. 

It takes probably an hour and a half before we have a couple of solid takes, and then the executive walks back in. 

“I think we got it guys! Now, can the soloist stick around? Everyone else can head home, and I’ll let you know if we need to find another day to try again, but I’m pretty sure we got a good take today” he says, and my choir director looks at me, before turning to everyone else and telling them it was time to go home. I shuffle forward as everyone else leaves the room, and then shoot a shy smile towards the executive. “If you will follow me I have a couple of people who want to meet you,” the executive says, and I nod with a smile, and clasp my hands together to hide the shaking. I follow him down a different hallway where no one is around, and then enter a room. I look up from my feet when I hear people stand up and see people who I never expected standing in front of me. 

“Hi, Y/N?” Baz says as he steps up to me and holds out his hand to shake. I reach out and shake his hand, hoping that my shaking isn’t too obvious, and mutter a small hello. “I’m Baz,” he says, and I shoot him a small smile. “Of course, you probably already knew that,” he says with a laugh, and I laugh along with him. “And this is Austin,” he says, motioning towards the person standing next to him. I mutter hello to him, blushing as he takes my hands in his and clasps them together. 

“You sounded amazing,” he tells me, and I blush even more. 

“Oh I’m not even the best singer in the choir. This just happened to be the solo I was assigned for the semester. I don’t even think I should have been the one it was given to,” I say, looking away. 

“Oh nonsense,” Priscilla Presley says as she steps forward, immediately pulling me into a hug. “You were amazing. I am so glad that you were chosen for it,” she says, and then presses a kiss on my cheek. 

“I had a question I wanted to ask you,” Baz says, and then motions towards a chair and asks me to take a seat. I sit down and Priscilla sits next to me, with Austin and Baz sitting across from me. “There is one song that we were wanting to put on the soundtrack that we hadn’t quite found the right voice for,” Baz starts, and I get a questioning look across my face. “After listening to you sing the solo with your choir we wanted to ask you if you could do it,” he says with a small smile. “Of course, you can say no. I know that not everyone would be comfortable with something like that, especially if they didn’t want to be thrust into the fame spotlight,” he says, and I shrink down in my chair. 

“I’m really sorry,” I start. “I am so thankful for the opportunity, but I have to say no. I really didn’t even want the small solo on the song we just recorded, but since I’m a music major my director told me I couldn’t say no. I don’t want to be famous, I just want to teach music to little kids,” I say, and everyone around smiles. 

“That is completely okay,” Priscilla says, and takes my hands in hers. “I think you should do what you want to do, and if this isn't it that is okay. The world needs good teachers. And I can tell that you are going to be one,” she says, and I flush. Austin mutters something in agreement, and I flush even more. 

“I do know someone that could do it,” I say, and when Baz asks me who it is, I give them the name of someone else in my choir whose voice is like mine. They tell me thank you, and that they will get in contact with her. We all talk for a little bit longer and then Baz stands up as his phone rings. 

“I need to get this, but it was so nice to meet you, Y/N,” he says and holds out his hand for me to take. I take it, thinking that this would just be a hand shake, but he pulls me up from my seat and into a hug. I hear small chuckles come from the others in the room and laugh myself as I hug Baz. “You will make an amazing teacher,” he says as he pulls back, and then answers the phone waving goodbye as he steps out of the room. The executive that had been sitting in the room with us the entire time stands up saying he will lead me out, and I nod, and turn to Priscilla and Austin. 

“Thank you for asking me. It means a lot,” I say, and Priscilla stands up and pulls me into a hug. 

“While I wish you had said yes, I fully understand why you did not. I hope you succeed in everything that you want to. And I hope we see you at the premiere,” she says, and I nod.

“If I get an invite I will be there,” I say as I pull away, and then turn and hold out my hand for Austin. “It was nice to meet you,” I say quietly, and he takes my hand in his.

“It was nice to meet you. I can walk you out,” he says, turning to the executive looking for a nod of approval, and then dropping my hand and walking towards the door. I follow behind him, not sure what to say or what exactly is happening. We walk down the hallway making a bit of small talk as we walk down the hall. When we get to the door that leads out to the parking lot. 

“Well this is my stop,”  I say with a small laugh, and he laughs as well. 

“I guess it is. Can I get your number?” he asks, and I freeze. “I mean, just to make sure you do get an invite to the premiere,” he says quickly, trying to calm me down in some way. 

“Oh yeah, that makes sense,” I say as he pulls out his phone and hands it to me after opening the contact app and starting a new number. I place my number in his phone and then hand it back.

“It was nice to meet you,” I say and then wave goodbye before pushing the door open. I walk out into the parking lot to my car, and get in and start it. I pull my phone out to start music and notice I have a text from an unknown number. 

Unknown number

I hope you gave me your real number because I would love to get to know you more.

Austin 

I drop my phone in the seat next to me, and then quickly grab it, shooting a text back. 

I never give out fake numbers, there’s no telling who’s phone number they are. I would also love to get to know you more.

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“And the rest is history,” I say as I finish my story, smiling absently as I reminisce on how Austin and I met.

“I totally forgot that your choir sang for the Elvis movie,” Alice says. 

“Yeah. I think if I wasn’t with Austin because of it I probably would have forgotten too. Other than meeting him and Miss Pricilla it was almost just a normal recording experience, and we do that every year,” I say with a shrug.  

“You guys literally had a real-life meet-cute,” Ella says, and we all laugh. 

“You’re not wrong. Some days I wake up having a hard time believing that this is my real life,” I quietly say. “I mean, I love Austin with everything that I am, sometimes it’s hard with his fame though.”

“Yeah I don’t think I could ever get used to that,” Alice says, Tara and Ella nod in agreement. 

“I wouldn’t change it for the world though. This is how it was meant to be. And I’m so excited to spend the rest of my life with him,” I tell them, a blush coming across my face.

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“Going to the chapel and I’m gonna get married,” the three of us sing off key as we walk to the bridal shop, my arms interlinked with Kyra and Tara’s arms. We all laugh as we hear the laughs of the rest of our group behind us. 

I remove my arms from Kyra and Tara and open the door of the shop, holding it open for everyone. My mom is the last person to walk in, and she holds her hand out for me to take as we enter the shop. 

“Hello, welcome!” the owner exclaims as she walks up to our group. “Do you guys have an appointment?” 

“Yes,” I say. “It’s under Y/N,” I tell her, and she unlocks the ipad she had been holding and looks at her calendar.

“Oh, yes! It’s so good to see you! I’m Sarah and I’ll be helping you today! Do you know what you were wanting to start with today?” she asks, and I look at the girls. They all shrug in response, so I turn back to Sarah.

“The main goal for today is to hopefully find my wedding dress, but I was also wanting to look at a few bridesmaid dresses, just to get an idea,” I say to her, and she nods in understanding. 

“Okay! Do you want to start with the bridesmaid dresses?” 

“Yes please!” I say, and she guides us over to a section of the store that has bridesmaid dresses. 

“Do you know what your colors for the wedding are?” she asks as the girls split up to thumb through dresses. 

“Darker pastel colors, kind of dusty colors. Leaning towards dusty purple and colors like that. The wedding is October 28th, and I thought that dusty colors went best with that.”

“Is the wedding indoors or outdoors?” she asks. “So I know if we should be looking for things with sleeves or the option to add sleeves.”

“Indoors. I didn’t want to have to worry about weather conditions or the paparazzi’s ability to hide in a bush and take pictures.”

“Paparazzi?” she questions, and I can see in her eyes that she is trying to figure out if she knows who I am, or if she has seen me somewhere before. 

“Um, yeah. My fiance is Austin Butler,” I say quietly, and I see the recognition in her eyes the moment she connects the dots. 

“Oh! Well we run a shop that focuses on the privacy of our customers, so you won’t have to worry about anyone finding out. We were actually the shop that Ashley Tisdale found her wedding dress in,” she tells me and I quietly laugh.

“Yeah, she recommended it to me. She would have been here today, but she had some meetings happening,” I tell her. She nods and then turns to a section of the shop. 

“Okay, well, we are so glad that you chose our shop. These dresses over here come in whatever color you want, and you should be able to get sleeves added onto most of them if you want. Were you wanting your bridesmaids to all wear one color?”

“No. They can all wear whatever color they want as long as they all look good together. I think I just want them to try on one each while we’re here, just to start getting some ideas,” I explain and she nods. 

“While they look at these, why don’t you and your mother go and start choosing some dresses you might want to try on today,” she says, and motions to where the wedding gowns are. I nod and take my mom’s hand and walk over to that side of the store. My mom and I shop side by side, pulling things that I would like to try on for about twenty minutes.

After that time, Sarah comes over to us. 

“Your bridesmaids are ready to show you what they found, and then we can start trying on the dresses you chose. I also pulled some that I thought you might like based on what you had told me when you scheduled your appointment and what you had been pulling today,” she tells us, as she points us in the direction of where the girls are trying on dresses. 

“We all originally had different ones,” Kyra calls out from the dressing room. 

“But then we saw this one and thought it looked better than all the others,” Alice shouts from her dressing room. “Let's go girls!” she continues, and they all three step out of their dressing rooms in the same dress. My eyes well up as I take them in. 

“Guys. This is perfect. How did you find it?” I ask them as I wipe tears off my face. 

“Kyra found it,” Tara says, and I turn to Kyra. 

“Yeah. We’ve been discussing your wedding for years, and when I saw this I knew it was what you would want. And it looks good on all of us,” she says, and I run to her and pull her into a hug. 

“Already going above and beyond in your maid of honor duties,” I whisper, and she laughs. 

“What can I say? I’m good at my job,” she says, and I laugh before pulling away. 

“Well,” I start, turning to Sarah. “We found our bridesmaid dresses.” 

“Amazing. I will get Rosie,” she says, and then motions to another worker standing a few feet away. “To write down the style and everyone’s sizes while you and I head into that dressing room and get into your first gown,” she says, and then turns towards everyone else. “I will make sure you are all back out here and comfortable before I bring her out in her first dress.” They all smile and nod, before the four girls head back into their own dressing rooms. My mom sits down on the big couch as I head into my huge dressing room with Sarah. 

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“How do you feel?” she asks as we slip the eighth dress onto my body. 

“Honestly, starting to feel a little discouraged. I really wanted to find my dress today and be able to go home and tell Austin that I found it,” I tell her as she clamps the back up. 

“Well, don’t get too discouraged because this one looks amazing,” she says, and then taps my shoulder, which I have discovered throughout the last hour  means to turn around and look in the mirror that is taking up the entirety of the wall behind me. 

“Oh…” I gasp as I turn around. Tears well up in my eyes as I look at myself in the mirror. “Sarah, did I grab this?” I ask her as I stare at myself in the gown that was meant to be mine. 

“No, I think your mother did, or maybe one of your bridesmaids,” she tells me, resting a hand on my shoulder and handing me a tissue with the other one. 

“I think… I think this might be the one,” I tell her as I continue to stare at myself, taking the tissue from her hand in order to wipe the tears off my face and running my other hand across the fabric. 

“Hurry up!” we hear come from the waiting area, and I chuckle, wiping a spare tear that is falling down my face.

“Are you ready to go show them?” Sarah asks me, and I nod, allowing her to walk out of the room before me. “Ladies, I think this might be the one,” she says as she walks out before me, and I hear them all gasp as I turn the corner and walk into the room, looking at my feet as I walk. 

“Oh, Y/N,” I hear my mother mutter as I stop in front of the mirror that surrounds almost the entire area. I look up from my feet and out at my family and friends, and tear up when I see tears in their eyes as well. 

“Y/N, please tell me that’s the one,” Kyra says, and I smile. “Please say that’s the one, because you look amazing in it. And you look so so happy.”

“It’s the one,” I say, with another tear falling down my face. “This is the one. Mom,” I say, looking at her, “did you pull this one from the rack?”

“I did. You brushed past it, but I saw it and knew you should at least try it on. It looks so much better than I could have ever imagined. You look radiant in it,” she says, trying to hold her sobs in as she takes me in. 

“Thank you Mama,” I respond, tears streaming down my face, as well as all my friends' faces and my sister's face. Everyone jumps up and gives me a hug, resulting in a huge group hug. “I love all of you. I can’t wait to be able to celebrate this big day with you,” I say and then squeeze my arms a little tighter around everyone. “Okay, you’re all suffocating me now. And we’re going to mess up the dress,” I say after another minute or two, with a slight laugh. They all laugh and pull away and I turn and look at myself again. 

“Were you wanting to try a veil on with it?” Sarah asks as I stare at myself in the mirror. 

“Oh! I hadn’t even thought about that. Yes I would love to,” I respond, and everyone chuckles as she heads off to grab one that will look good with it. She comes back with a few, and I try a few on before deciding on one. I stare at myself in the mirror a little longer, and notice my friends taking pictures of me in the background. 

“Okay. I think it’s time to get out of this dress until the next time,” I say, turning to Sarah. She nods and we go back into the dressing room.

“Okay, before we get you out of this dress I need to take some measurements so we can make sure to get it altered correctly,” she says, and I nod in understanding. For the next fifteen minutes she takes some measurements and then pulls back after the last one. “Okay, now we can get you out of it,” she says, and I laugh. She helps me out by unclamping the dress and helping slip it down over my hips. I step out of it and over to my clothes, slipping the dress I had worn back on quickly. 

“Is there a certain place for me to pay for everything?” I ask, and she laughs. 

“Actually, your fiance called about an hour ago and gave us his information to have us charge your dress, anything else you may want, and the bridesmaid dresses to his credit card. He asked me to tell you he found the conveniently forgotten credit card you had left behind.”

“Dang it. I was hoping he wouldn’t find that until after I got back,” I say with a small laugh. She also laughs in response, and then we are back in front of my friends and family. 

“Do you want to take an ‘I said Yes to the Dress’ picture?” Sarah asks as we all gather our things. Everyone cheers yes, and she ushers us together before grabbing the sign from somewhere nearby. I hand her my phone, and she takes multiple pictures of us before handing it back. “Okay, Y/N, I will see you back here in about a month to try on the dress after alterations.”

“Awesome! Thank you so much for all of your help Sarah,” I tell her, and then pull her in for a hug. 

“You’re welcome! I’m so glad you were able to find your dress today,” she says as I pull away from the hug. We all say our goodbyes and head out the door. We laugh and talk as we make our way down the sidewalk to my car. 

“I’m so excited!” Alice says, and I laugh. 

“Believe me, no one is more excited than I am.” 

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“Honey I’m home,” I call out as I walk in the door. Everyone had taken my car and gone out to see a movie in order to give me some time alone with Austin after finding the dress.

“I’m in here,” he calls from the office, and I toe my shoes off by the door before walking over to it. 

“Hey sweet boy,” I say as I walk in the door and see him looking over a script at his desk. 

“Hi darlin’,” he says, pushing back from the desk and opening up his arms for me to walk into. I sit down on his lap and wrap my arms around his neck, giving him a small kiss. “Where is everyone?”

“They wanted to give us some time alone so they went out to see a movie. They’ll be back for dinner later. I think their movie started like five minutes ago,” I tell him, laying my head on his chest. “You’re sneaky, you know that?” 

“Hey you’re sneaky too, trying to hide that credit card so I wouldn’t find it,” he responds, pressing a kiss to my forehead. 

“Yeah I guess so. And I mean, how would anyone even know that you paid for it, not me?” I say, and he smiles.

“Exactly my point. Now, how was dress shopping?” he asks. A huge smile breaks out on my face and I lift up and kiss him again. “That good huh?” he says as I pull away again, and I laugh.

“Not only did we find bridesmaid dresses, but I also found my wedding dress!” I exclaim, and he squeezes my sides where his arms are wrapped around me. 

“That’s amazing darlin’,” he says, and then pulls me in for a kiss. When he pulls away he asks, “I know I don’t get to see the winning wedding dress, but can I see some of the other ones you tried on and the bridesmaid dresses?” I laugh and nod, pulling out my phone and plugging it into his computer so he can see the pictures I had been sent. No one had sent me pictures of the winning dress, because they knew Austin could get onto my phone at any minute and they didn’t want him to find the picture. 

“Okay, so these are the bridesmaid dresses,” I say as I pull up a picture of all of them in their dresses. 

“Those look great!” 

“That’s what I said! And they perfectly fit the theme I was going for,” I tell him, placing a kiss on his cheek before turning back to the computer. “Okay, so this is the first dress I tried on. Everyone cried simply because it was my first time in a wedding dress, but we all agreed it wasn’t the one,” I tell him, and he laughs. “This one we thought looked good, but there wasn’t an immediate connection. If I hadn’t found another one I would have tried that one on again, but probably would have left empty handed. This next one I hated but I tried it on to appease my mother,” I tell him, and he laughs. We sit like that going through all the dresses until I get to the last one. “This is the one where I was starting to lose hope, because I felt like I wasn’t going to find one today. If you look at my eyes you can see how tired I am and how much I was hoping we could just call it quits soon. But then, they convinced me to try on one more dress, and sure enough the next dress was the one that was it.”

“Do you have any pictures anywhere of that one?” he asks with a sly smile on his face. 

“They do. I don’t. They wouldn’t send me any because they knew you would know the password to my phone and would try to find it. I think I’ll have someone post it early on the wedding day as a throwback of sorts, to show when I got the dress,” I tell him, and he nods. 

“And that will work because neither of us will be on our phones that day. We'll be so busy,” he says, and I laugh. 

“Yep. With a 2 o’clock wedding we’ll be busy all morning. And then all evening. Honestly I probably won’t be on my phone or checking social media until we’re on the plane on Sunday morning. And even then I might not. I will have to be texting my parents though when we leave here and arrive in Paris.” 

“Speaking of, I finalized those flights earlier. And booked the hotel rooms.”

“Yay! I go back in a month for a fitting to make sure the dress fits correctly, and if it does I can bring it home that day. Except I might take it over to Ashley’s because I love you, but you are a snoop. And I don’t want you to see it before the day of,” I say with a small smile, and he laughs. 

“You know me too well. Oh! Ashley called earlier and asked what night you were wanting to have dinner this week?”

“Oh right! Gotta ask Jupiter to be my flower girl,” I say, laying my head on his shoulder. “Whatever day works best for you honey. I’m taking Mom and Ella to the airport really early in the morning, and when I leave to take them Kyra, Tara, and Alice are going home. So even tomorrow night would work, but only if I get a nap. If I don’t get a nap I will be going to bed at like eight.” 

“I know. I know how you function sweets,” he says. 

“Speaking of, can we go lay on the couch for a bit? I want to change first, but then I want to cuddle with you before my family comes back. I’m exhausted,” I say, sitting up and looking at him. 

“Of course,” he says, and then pats my leg to get me to stand up, before heading to the couch as I head to our room to change. 

“One last thing,” I say when I get into the living room after changing. “Was that script you were reading any good?” 

“Maybe. I need to finish it in the morning while you nap, but it seemed promising.”

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“Jupiter,” I call out as I sit down in the living room at Ashley’s house. I laugh as I hear her little feet come running from the room she was in. 

“Aunty Y/N!” she exclaims as she jumps into my lap. 

“I have a present for you Jup,” I say as I give her a hug, smiling over her head at Ashley, Christopher, and then next to me at Austin. She wiggles out of my arms and slides down to the floor to stand in front of me. 

“Give it,” she states in her little toddler voice, and I laugh. 

“Jupiter! Ask nicely!” Ashley exclaims with a small laugh. I wave her off and grab the box from the table behind where Jupiter is standing. 

“Jupiter Iris, will you be my flower girl in Uncle Austin and I’s wedding?” I ask her as I open the box for her. She immediately takes the sunglasses out of the box and puts them on her face. 

“Can I wear these sunglasses?” she asks and I laugh. 

“Yes Jupes, you can. But you have to take a picture with me tonight before you run off again.” 

“Yes Aunty Y/N,” she says with a small nod. I laugh and gather her into my arms holding the box as best I can as Ashley grabs her phone and takes a picture of the two of us. I place a big wet kiss on her cheek as everyone laughs, including her. “Gross Auntie,” she says as she giggles and tries to wiggle out of my arms. I loosen and let her go, and she bolts out of the room. 

“Well,” I say as I slide over on the couch into Austin’s arms. “I guess we have a flower girl.”

[catgirl-dee]

Okay I saw this post about mafia boss daughter x pathetic lesbian tortured by loan sharks. And idk if anyone's written off of this before (cause it's like 5 months old—ancient by internet time) but I knew I had to force my OCs into this situation. I really hope I did the prompt and art justice since this was written over like 3 days. And of course I had to make this transbian (and in my mind the art is already). So now, I present to you, morally dubious yuri. (2095 words)

Horny stuff: noncon, some blood, knifeplay, guns, petplay/collaring, vibrators, even more making out, dildos, strapons, eating out, rope bondage, orgasm denial, chastity, bondage, anal, cuddles (this may be morally dubious yuri but all of my stories must have cuddles sorry)

“Over fifty thousand dollars in debt. Lilac, you really fucked up this time. When do you intend to pay us back?”

Autumn puffs on her cigarette and observes the girl her mom is speaking to. Lilac is currently handcuffed and being flanked by two burly mafia loan sharks. She’s shrinking away from Autumn’s mom’s intimidating presence as she sits behind her desk. Autumn stands a little straighter.

“I’m really sorry, Miss Asta, but I don’t know. My boss won’t give me a raise, but I could try to be stingy on food, or—” Autumn’s mom silences Lilac with a glare.

“You’ll work for us then. Let me find an open position.” Asta puffs on her cigar and rifles through a stack of papers.

“Miss, I think I have a better idea.” Autumn tentatively interjects. Asta turns to her and nods.

“I still need a servant after the last one, and Lilac looks like she’d be perfect for the job.”

“Hmm.” Asta considers this for a moment, scrutinizing Lilac. “Okay, I’ll allow it. She looks easy anyway, I’m sure you can handle her.” “Thank you. I’ll make sure to put her to good use.” She steps toward Lilac, who practically shrivels in fear. “Walk.” Autumn pulls on Lilac’s handcuffs, dragging her out of the room. Behind her, Autumn can hear her mom droning on about other legal business with the sharks.

“Wha—what happened to the other servant?” Lilac stutters, a complete nervous wreck.

Autumn flashes a grin behind her. “Oh, you know. I got bored of him and he wasn’t doing a good job, so I… disposed of him.” She keeps leading Lilac, pretending not to notice the reaction to that. She nods to the guard at her door and steps inside.

Autumn leaves Lilac by the door and heads to her large safe, making sure Lilac can see all the assorted weapons inside. She selects a knife, twirling it around and pointing it at Lilac. “Kneel.” She circles Lilac a couple times, considering her. Lilac squeezes her eyes shut and keeps her head down.

“I haven’t had a plaything in a little while,” Autumn purrs. She crouches in front of Lilac, using the flat of the blade to lift Lilac’s head up, and her eyes fly open in surprise. “And I’m very hungry.”

Lilac gulps and Autumn laughs. “Don’t worry, as long as you do exactly what I say, you’ll be fine. Now hold still.”

Autumn begins cutting away Lilac’s clothes with the knife. As she does so, she talks. “You know, I wasn’t entirely telling the truth when I said you’d be my servant. You will serve me, sure, but not in the way most think of.” To her credit, Lilac stays still, but she can’t help shivering, which causes Autumn to nick her leg. Still, Autumn carries on, until Lilac is naked on the ground.

“I was right, you are a fine specimen,” Autumn says approvingly. She puts out her cigarette on Lilac’s thigh, causing her to yelp, while taking in Lilac’s exposed body. She tries her best to hide herself, but the handcuffs make it difficult and seems to amuse Autumn. Then Autumn gets up, unbuttoning her shirt and tossing it aside as she goes to a cabinet. She quickly finds a leash and collar inside, and drops other toys on her nightstand.

“Purple for my Lilac.” She puts the collar on Lilac, who avoids making eye contact. “Come  now, to the bed.” She grins naughtily now, getting a good blush out of Lilac.

Due to the leash and collar, Lilac has no choice but to climb on the bed after Autumn. Autumn reclines on the bed, tugging the leash to force Lilac onto her lap and their faces inches apart. Lilac can’t help but be captivated by Autumn, which gives Autumn some satisfaction. She could probably have this girl permanently submit by the end of the night.

With the hand free of the leash, Autumn traces Lilac’s cheek while whispering, “Remember, you belong to me now. I own you.” Then she grabs a fistful of Lilac’s hair and pulls her in for a kiss. Autumn’s tongue forces its way into Lilac’s mouth and towards her throat, and she makes a small noise that sounds like pleasure.

Eventually, Autumn breaks the kiss, leaving Lilac to blush and pant. She finds a small egg vibrator, flicks it on, and presses it under Lilac’s penis at the new erogenous zone created thanks to estrogen. She secures it with tape and is rewarded almost immediately when Lilac begins to leak and whimper quietly. Autumn takes a moment to revel in the sight of Lilac slowly getting harder and making a mess, their mixed lipsticks all over her face, before grabbing her hair again and going in for more sloppy kissing.

When Lilac nears orgasm, Autumn pulls away the vibrator, and frustration clearly shows on Lilac’s face.

“Not now pet, you don’t get to cum until I do,” Autumn says, pushing Lilac off and slipping out of her pants. “Get on your stomach.” Autumn picks up a new knife, testing the blade on her finger.

Lilac moves to her hands and knees, facing away from Autumn, expecting to get fucked. “I said, on your stomach,” Autumn says roughly, shoving Lilac completely down. “This will hurt, but you’ll survive if you stay still. Do you understand?” Of course, Lilac can only nod.

Autumn begins deftly carving letters into Lilac’s back, tracing them in blood. Lilac cries into the mattress, forcing Autumn to straddle her and pin her down. As she works, she says conversationally, “Many people do this in pen for some reason. I prefer something more permanent for my toys. How else am I supposed to make sure everyone knows you’re mine? Keep holding still, that’s it.”

After lots of pained gasps from Lilac, Autumn sits back and admires her work. Flawlessly written in Lilac’s tasty flesh are the letters “Autumn’s Property.”

“You can sit up now, pet,” Autumn says. She turns Lilac around to see her tear-streaked face and slaps her. “Oh, none of that.” She slips off her panties, slightly soaked from all the excitement of the blood, and shoves Lilac’s head between her crotch.

Autumn cocks her pistol and presses it into the back of Lilac’s skull. It’s empty—she doesn’t want to risk losing her toy so soon—but Lilac doesn’t have to know that. “You better be able to make me feel good like your life depends on it.” She can feel Lilac’s whimper between her thighs as she starts kissing Autumn’s clit.

“Fuck you’re good.” Autumn moves the gun away as Lilac continues to tease Autumn’s clit, moaning, whimpering, and breathing into it. She manages to pick up Autumn’s rhythm, moving her tongue the way Autumn likes it. Before long, Autumn orgasms, and Lilac cleans it up with her mouth when Autumn guides her with a hand.

Autumn places the gun down on the nightstand, going through the toys she has prepared. Lilac speaks up shakily, “Can I cum, Mistress? You said that I can once you do.”

Autumn doesn’t respond, but picks up another knife and starts twirling it in her hand, noting the terror in Lilac’s face. She decides to torture her a little, leaving the room silent and eyeing her like she’s Autumn’s next kill.

“Oh, so straightforward and bold of you,” Autumn croons after a while. “And I never told you that word, but you’re calling me Mistress anyways.” Lilac flushes. “I suppose my pet deserves a reward.” She unhooks her bra, now fully naked, and decides on a couple of toys. “Turn around. Good girl.” Lilac shivers and blushes at that, now on her cuffed hands and knees again, her ass on full display for Autumn.

Autumn lays on top of Lilac to reach her breasts, attaching small nipple clamps that vibrate. As she suspected, Lilac’s tits appear to still be sensitive from HRT, and Lilac begins to make beautiful noises with just those on. Autumn puts on her strap and roughly slams into Lilac, pushing her face down into the mattress. The muffled quality of her whimpers only make the choir even more heavenly. Autumn once again admires the red lettering on Lilac’s back, the blood mostly dry now. As she starts to thrust, she reaches around, teasing Lilac’s sensitive areas even more, rubbing her in all the right places. Lilac quickly cums, getting soft again, but Autumn keeps going until minutes later, when she also gets an orgasm out of it.

Though Lilac is still recovering, Autumn flips her over, causing Lilac to yelp in pain from the marks on her back. The sound only causes her to lust more, and she pulls out the knife and presses it to Lilac’s neck, right below the collar, and draws a tiny line of blood before kissing it and leaving deep teeth marks all over her pet’s neck and shoulders. 

Then Autumn notices Lilac’s hands. The handcuffs are clicking, a dead giveaway. Still, Lilac is desperately trying to get herself off. Autumn slaps them away, giving Lilac a dangerous look.

“Am I not enough for you?” she asks sweetly, with the practiced tone of a lurking threat.

“I’m sorry! Mistress, I didn’t mean to, I won’t do—”

“Of course, you’re here for my use. I own you and I can do whatever I like with you. But I’m doing my best to please you, too, and this is how you treat me?” Lilac starts to babble again, but Autumn silences her, pressing the flat of a knife to her lips.

“Hush, dear. You’re here to be an object, not to talk and answer rhetorical questions. Understand?” Lilac nods silently, mouth pressed into a line of fear.

Autumn unlocks the handcuffs, then turns to pick up a few coils of rope. She hums happily as she secures Lilac’s limbs to the bedposts, pulling each rope taut and checking all the knots. She wraps the rest of Lilac in intricate knots and ropework, framing Lilac’s body like a work of art.

“Since you seem to have trouble keeping your hands to yourself,” Autumn murmurs, “I have the perfect thing.” She dangles a chastity cage in Lilac’s vision, then puts it on her dick. Next she selects one of the larger dildos, lubes it, sets it to vibrate, and pushes it into Lilac’s ass excruciatingly slowly, noting Lilac’s anxiety building through the process. She goes down on Lilac’s soft, small tits, biting and sucking them, pinching the nipples, while still teasing her with the dildo. Lilac struggles, trying to move her hips to make it faster, but the ropes hold. Autumn leans back and moves her free hand to finger herself now, eventually cumming and dripping all over Lilac’s legs. Lilac looks so incredibly needy and cute now.

“What’s the matter, pet? Is it frustrating that you can’t finish without my permission?” She thrusts the dildo faster, matching the rhythm that made Lilac cum the first time. Lilac wordlessly begs, desperation in her pathetic eyes.

“Maybe you’ve learned your lesson. This is what my toys get when they try to be self-reliant. Feel the pain on your back and remember you’re mine and only I get to decide what you do.”

“Yes, Mistress,” Lilac whimpers, blushing crimson. “I’m really sorry, it won’t happen again.”

“It better not,” Autumn hisses, grin wickedly sharp, bringing a knife over Lilac’s body. Lilac flinches, but Autumn simply cuts the ropes tying Lilac to the bed, though she leaves the knots on Lilac’s body untouched. Lilac’s expression shifts to relief and adoration, hardly believing she’s been spared from more pain.

“Despite that one mistake,” Autumn growls, before shifting to a soothing tone, “you’ve been a very good girl for me.” She brings her face closer to Lilac’s. “You’re still not allowed to orgasm, but I’ll let you choose something else. What do you want me to do?”

Lilac seems taken aback by this question, and pauses to think before replying sheepishly, “Kisses and cuddles, please, Mistress.”

Autumn hums approval. “Normally, I’d make my pets sleep in the dog cage, but how could I deny such a sweet request? Here.” She pulls Lilac under the covers and slips in next to her. Lilac’s face is burning as Autumn pulls her in, licking and kissing her face, neck, and ears, wrapping her arms around her pet.

In between the long periods of making out, Autumn whispers, “Don’t worry, I always take good care of my possessions. You don’t have to worry about anyone or anything else now.”

[drdemonprince]

Any recommended reading for a newbie to anarchism?

David Graeber truly is the best entry point into the pipeline i feel. Reading his work doesn't feel like "reading theory", it feels like learning more about a specific aspect of the world from an engaging, open-minded author who makes history and anthropology accessible, and then simply realizing somewhere along the line that you've become a lot more radical than you realized you'd always been.

Bullshit Jobs is his easiest and most approachable read -- start with this if you're not a big reader of dense books, or if my book Laziness Does Not Exist particularly spoke to you. It's about how the majority of reasonably well-paying jobs today are completely meaningless, and why important, fulfilling jobs that are actually necessary to run society are so often thankless and poorly paid.

If you have student loan or credit card debt out the ass or you grew up hearing the myth that the earliest human societies relied on trading and bartering, pick up Debt: The First 5000 Years. This one is a bit of a tougher read than Bullshit Jobs, but still approachable, talking about the history of human commerce, debt forgiveness, enslavement, and where that history has left us today. You'll learn a lot about history but Graeber will also always lead you back to the present.

If you were a follower of the Occupy Wallstreet movement and wonder why it failed (or whether it failed), pick up The Democracy Project. This is a slimmer, faster read! And it focuses a lot more on the practical tactics and bylaws of Occupy organizing. In it, Graeber illustrates how human groups can be run without hierarchy and just how well that can work! It's perhaps the most explicitly anarchist book of his in that sense at least, yet it's also very conversational and easy to follow, with lots of lessons learned and specific examples from real-life organizing meetings.

If you hate rules and bureaucracy, pick up Utopia of Rules. What Debt is for bursting basic, widespread myths about economics, Utopia of Rules is for challenging mainstream knowledge about the role of the state. This one is actually an essay collection, and that makes it a quicker, easier read than many of the others -- in each chapter, Graeber tackles one specific aspect of irritating modern-day bureaucracy, and its full of relatable gripes about going to the DMV or applying for unemployment, but then it zooms out to make a larger point about how societies now function (and fail to function).

If you're interested in Indigenous cultures and how various human societies have approached governance, start with Dawn of Everything, which he co-wrote with David Wengrow. Now this is a MUCH denser book that I recommend taking chapter by chapter, pausing to savor all the new information and paradigm-busting that they've just showered you with. A chapter before bed each night and then some time laying down and simply reflecting about the diversity of human social potential is a great way to slowly work your way through it.

If you read any of these, you'll be left with a lot of ideas as to where to look next -- Graeber was widely read in a great many fields himself, so he'll leave you a trail of breadcrumbs to follow.

The Anarchist Library online is also a great place to find shorter, more explicitly anarchist theory work, once you're ready to delve in. The r/debateanarchism subreddit is also something you should subscribe to and thumb through every once in a while!