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riddlesbunny · 2 days ago

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Asks, hm? Maybeeee ummm

Picture this: Theo, coming back after a smoke sesh with Mattheo, a lil high still. He comes to your room, and after mildly fumbling with the knob, he lets himself in as you’re getting ready for bed. He sees you in his oversized shirt and your pj shorts, and naturally can’t help himself. Theo comes up behind you and wraps his arms around your waist and lazily starts pressing kisses to your neck and shoulders, mumbling in mixed English and Italian about how perfect you look in his shirt, all for him👀

Can easily divert into pure fluff, or pure smut, either or hehehe🤭

Lavender Haze

pairing: Theo x girlfriend!Reader

word count: 946

warnings: Explicit smut, drug use, fingering, oral (f recieving) munch theo yayyy, 18+ MDNI

note: I made it smut 😈 hehehe thank you for sending me a request 😋 tagging the homies @enzosbabyangel @belovedenzo @nemesyaaa

One thing about smoking, is it usually ends with Theo getting horny as fuck. He can’t help it. After a few hits, he’s zoned out and then before he can help it, his mind is clouded with thoughts of you.

“You good man?” Mattheo’s voice interrupts his thoughts, Theo blinks, dragging his hand over his face, “‘um, yeah… just zoned out.”

Mattheo laughs, “yeah, no shit.”

Theo lets out a breath, pushing himself up from the couch, “I better get going,” he mutters, ignoring Mattheo’s protest as he books it out the door.

The next thing he knows, he’s at your door, barely remembering how he got there. His heart pounds in his chest, fingers twitching as fumbles with the handle.

You’re sitting at the vanity in your dorm that you share with the other girls, brushing out your wet hair, absentmindedly when the door swings open with force.

He stumbles slightly, catching himself against the doorframe, tousled hair a mess, green eyes hazy He looks at you, then at the oversized shirt draped over your frame—his shirt—and something shifts in his expression.

“Shit,” he breathes, raking a hand through his hair as he kicks the door shut behind him. His gaze drags over you, slow and deliberate, like he’s trying to memorize the way you look right now, legs curled beneath you, his worn-out tee slipping off one shoulder, exposing just enough to make his jaw tighten.

You turn back to the mirror, pretending not to notice the heat in his stare as you resume brushing your hair. “You okay there?” you tease, watching his reflection as he takes a step closer.

He huffs a quiet laugh, but there’s no amusement in his eyes—just something dark, something hungry. “Yeah, just—” He exhales, shaking his head as he moves behind you, his hands finding your waist with that lazy, possessive touch that always makes your breath hitch. “Got distracted.”

A shiver runs down your spine as his lips brush against the nape of your neck—soft at first, then firmer, lingering. His grip tightens slightly, fingers pressing into the fabric of his shirt, like he’s barely holding himself back.

“Non hai idea di cosa mi fai” you have no idea what you do to me he murmurs, voice low and rough, his breath warm against your skin. His eyes flick up to meet yours in the mirror, dark and full of intent. “Especially when you’re wearing my clothes.”

You got to lift up from your chair to properly greet him, but his hands quickly find their way to your waist. Before you can protest, he spins you around and lifts you effortlessly, tossing you onto your bed. You have no time to catch your breath before he’s hovering over you, a wicked smirk on his lips.

He quickly nestles himself between your thighs, eyes are locked on yours as his fingers hook under the waistband of your silk shorts, dragging them down you legs slowly, your panties following suit.

Your breathing grows shallow as Theo spreads your knees wider, leaning forward to plant wet, sloppy kisses along the inside of your thigh. His warm breath dances across your damp folds, making you ache for him.

His tongue finds its way to your clit, swirling softly before flattening to lick firmly from bottom to top. He pushes two fingers deep inside you, curling them upwards to stroke that sweet spot.

Your hips arch upward, grinding against Theo's mouth as he devours you hungrily. The sound of your wetness fills the room, echoing alongside your moans and gasps.

Theo's tongue flicks out, tasting your arousal as it coats your throbbing clit. “Tesoro, hai un sapore fantastico” fuck, baby girl you taste amazing he groans, burying his face deeper between your slick folds.

Your fingers tangle in his hair, holding his head tightly between your thighs as he feasts on you like a man starved, "Oh god, Theo!!"

Theo grins devilishly into your cunt as you praise him, thrilled to hear the desperation in your voice. He replaces his fingers with his tongue, pushing it deep inside you while he works your clit with his thumb.

Your tight heat pulses around his tongue, coating him in your arousal as he laps at you eagerly, his eyes drinking in every inch of your quivering form.

By now, Theo is a pathetic mess himself, humping your bed as he eats you. He's so turned on from this he could cum right in his pants.

Your nails dig into his scalp as your hips grind harder against Theo's face.

Your release is just within reach; one tiny push away. "Yes, yes!" you moan as he continues.

In a blink of an eye your orgasm rips through you with intense force, shaking your entire body as you scream Theo's name. Your hips buck wildly against his mouth, riding wave after wave of pleasure that seems endless.

Theo's tongue slows its frenzied lapping as you begin to come down from your climax, but he doesn't stop altogether.

His tongue continues to gently flutter over your pulsating bud, drawing out your orgasm until you collapse, breathless, beneath him.

His warm breath hitches as he lifts his face, his chin dripping with your essence.

Theo crawls up your body, capturing your lips once more, making you taste yourself.

When he pulls away you glance down and notice the wet spot that’s formed on his pants and bite back a grin. “Well, looks like I wasn’t the only one enjoying myself. Want me to grab you a towel this time?”

He shakes his head in response, "you're lucky I love you, bella."

"I love you, too."

#theo nott #theo nott smut #theo nott x fem!reader #theo nott x you #theo nott x reader #theo nott imagine #slytherin boys #slytherin boys smut #theo nott fluff #theo nott x reader fluff

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klaus-littlestwolf · 3 days ago

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Meant to be His -Aemond T.

Aemond was very close with his Aunt when he was young, realizing at a young age that he had a definite crush, however other than scare off her suitors, there was nothing he could do…not until he was older.

Aemond is finally old enough to be with her and he has to ensure that her husband is gone before her family comes to speak for Lucerys’ inheritance.

Warning: Murder, Targcest, Inappropriate pets (Lions Do Not Belong as Pets)

He’d had a crush on Y/n since he could remember, he was only 3 when he first remembered realizing his feelings but they had always been there. She was the one that was always there for him and he for her, whenever he needed to cry to her over his horrible brother and cousins, or when she was stressed about her days in court and people trying to force her to marry.

He crawled into her bed with her almost every night, snuggling in with her and sleeping better than he ever did alone. Aemond was the one who scared off her suitors, the boy following along when she was strolling through the gardens with one of them, asking a million questions and clinging to her skirts, making sure that the men knew that they were a “package deal” and that they wouldn’t have her without him.

By the time that Aemond was 18 he had clearly figured out what his feelings were as a child and at first he was horrified that he’d fallen for his Aunt, but when he thought about it more he realized how much his Aunt had needed him. He had given her comfort by being with her all of the time and chasing away her suitors while she had done the same for him by being there for him when he had no one else.

She had been married off to Tytos Lannister (a cousin of Jason and Tywin Lannister-twins who served the crown) after the night he’d lost his eye, Aemond no longer fighting for her and leaving her all alone. He hated himself for that. She wasn’t afraid of him, hadn’t judged him and had stayed with him all night that night while he was in agony-and yet still, he’d left her alone…he needed to rectify this and so he would.

He had been told that they were coming, the whole family, including Y/n who had still yet to bear the Lannister a single child-leaving everyone to believe that there was something wrong with her. Aemond did not believe that though, he knew that she was drinking moon tea, she had admitted to him she always would if she was forced to marry a man she did not love.

Aemond left Vhagar behind as he made his way to Casterly Rock, not willing to risk anyone knowing that it was him-even though he was sure as soon as they married that people would always suspect.

It was the middle of the night and the guards were way to easy to get around prompting Aemond to vow guards outside her door 24/7. Sneaking into the main bedroom was simple but he quickly found out that his soon to be wife’s husband did not sleep there-he also realized as he saw her pet sleeping at the foot of her bed, why she didn’t need guards at the door. As he made to go and search for him he was startled by her voice behind him.

‘Aemond?’ He winced, turning to see her in her lovely night dress, she was as lovely as the day he first cuddled her in her bed as a boy.

‘You are dreaming Issa Darīa…lay back down-‘ (My Queen)

‘Aemond…what are you doing here?’ She asked, looking down to see the blade in his hand.

‘Y/n…I would have you be my wife…your family will be in the Keep in a weeks time and I would have you widowed and married off to me…you told me you would never give children to a man you hated…you hate Tytos and I know you do. Just go back to sleep and pretend you never saw me…please Issa Darīa?’

She stared up at him for several seconds before standing and moving to his side, pointing to the right. ‘Last door on the left with his little whore. She’s given him 4 kids since we’ve been married and I would love to see all of them in the street when he’s dead…make it look like she did it.’ She instructed, leaning up and kissing his lips sweetly. ‘I would happily give you all of the babies you want from me…husband.’ Aemond’s eye widened at this revelation, honestly having been a bit worried she wouldn’t want his babies either.

‘I will see you in a weeks time and I will have everything planned for a quick wedding. No one but I will ever touch you again.’ Aemond kissed her once more before sneaking from the room and walking down the hall to the last door she indicated, finding Tytos and a sleeping women beside him. Placing his hand over the Lannisters mouth he watched as his eyes flew open. ‘You should have treated my Aunt with more respect-if you had I would have left her alone to be happy but here you are in bed with a whore. I would be honored if all she ever gave me was her perfect body and maybe if you had been content with that she wouldn’t have been drinking the moon tea all these years.’ The man’s eyes widened in shock and Aemond smirked. ‘No matter now. You’ll be dead, your whore will have done it, and your wife will see all of your bastards on the street. You should have been a better husband.’ Before he could even try and scream Aemond had driven the blade through his neck and watched him choke on the blood, wiping some of it into the woman’s hand to make it look like she had done it before leaving the room and sneaking back out of the castle, making his way home quickly and beginning to fix his chambers so that it would accommodate his wife as well.

News of his “Uncles” death reached them and none of them cared but Aemond who told his mother that Y/n would be remarrying him. She had refused at first but when he threatened to take Vhagar and burn the whole of Casterly Rock and everything the Lannisters have, she gave in.

He saw her again for the first time in the throne room. She walked in with her sister and nephews and right beside her was the Lannisters house sigil, a large lion that didn’t seem at all bothered by anyone around them. He had heard that the Lannister idiot had gifted his Aunt a male lion cub for their wedding (having seen it sleeping in her bed instead of her husband) and it seems that she had trained it quite well as it strolled beside her, not looking at anyone who jumped away from it, terrified. Every person who was brave enough to speak to her was growled at, though the lion did not lunge at anyone, only stepping forward when a man got too close.

As they stood across from their family Aemond moved forward, standing in front of Y/n and bowing, holding out his hand and taking hers, planting a kiss on it, all without her pet making a single sound. Though he was staring at Aemond intently.

‘I was very sorry to hear of your loss, Aunt Y/n.’

‘Sure you were…’ Jace mumbled under his breath.

‘Despite that, I am very happy to see you again. It has been too many years since I’ve set my eyes upon your lovely face.’ She blushed a dark pink shade and he was proud that he could make her feel like that.

‘Don’t you mean eye?’ This time it was Luke who mumbled and as Y/n kicked him in the ankle, the large beast beside her looked over and bore his fangs at Luke whose eyes went wide as he stepped back, the lion stepping closer before Y/n pet him softly, the rough looking fur making Aemond curious, only having seen these creatures in Lannisters cages (which is where she was meant to keep it but she raised it from a cub and the cub was entirely subservient to her, completely eager to please her).

‘His name is Aera. Would you like to touch him?’ She offered and Aemond looked up from the animal in surprise. ‘I don’t offer that to just anyone, keep that in mind.’ Aemond couldn’t help his smile as he nodded his head.

‘I would be honored.’ She took his hand into hers and pet Aera with her other hand before placing his hand onto the beasts head. He was right, the fur was rough and course but still somehow soft and softer still when she moved his hand under the lions chin to scratch him making the animal rumble out a happy noise. ‘He’s amazing. You’ll have to come out with me and meet Vhagar tonight. I promised you a flight-‘

‘I don’t think that would be appropriate actually brother. Y/n’s husband has just passed and a Targaryen princess her age with no children is…coveted to say the least. We are trying to find a new match for her and her being out alone with her Uncle would not help that matter.’ Rhaenyra explained and it made Aemond scoff.

‘And yet, you are not in charge of my lovely Aunts care, my mother is. We shall go flying tonight my love. You have my word.’ He promised making Y/n smile.

‘I look forward to it, Nephew.’ She stated, Aemond bowing once again before going back to his spot beside his sister.

It took several moments before the meeting started however just as Aemond had requested, his mother announced the proposal first. ‘Before we begin this meeting I must address the tragic passing of Tytos Lannister, husband of our own Y/n Targaryen. A Targaryen that has been left unmarried. It has come to my attention that my own son has agreed to take Y/n to wed, a wedding that will be held in 2 days time and I am sure you will all join me in wishing them the best of luck in marriage and for children.’ Many people were stunned, however none of them were family members, all of their family was seemingly expecting something like this.

‘Well, if this is the way of it then I believe it would be more appropriate that I stand with my betrothed.’ To say that Aemond was pleased would be an understatement-he was ecstatic. Finally, after all these years, he was finally getting the one thing everyone tried to convince him that he could never have.

Y/n moved to stand beside him, Aera moving with her and sitting between him and Helaena. While the inheritance was dealt with and Vaemond said his peace, Aemond watched as Y/n had knelt to the ground and stopped Jaehaerys and Jaehaera from touching Aera without her permission, instead having the lion lay down and allow the children to pet him, telling them never to go near him without permission but happily letting the twins pet Aera-who seemed quite content to be scratched as Y/n stood back up just as the King entered the throne room.

‘Are they safe?’ Aegon asked, looking down at his twins petting the large beast.

‘So long as they don’t poke his eyes or put their hands in his mouth, and of course I don’t tell him to attack them, then yes, they’re perfectly fine.’ She responded, allowing Aegon a sigh of peace.

‘If there is nothing more to be dealt with then this matter is closed-again!’ Viserys stated with great difficulty.

‘Actually Father, there is. Since my sister has been widowed it seems that the Queen has taken it upon herself to betroth Y/n with her son Aemond instead of to another house.’ Rhaenyra told him like a toddler tattling to their mother, the King looking to Alicent.

‘After all this time, the Princess has not brought forth any children of her own. My son is young, ready to have children and a younger man may make it more likely that she bear children. Aemond and Y/n have always been close, it just seemed to be the smartest decision husband.’ She explained to him and Viserys seemed to agree fairly quickly.

‘It does seem to make sense. We shall all be praying for grandchildren.’ With that the King was helped down the stairs and everyone was paying attention to him.

‘You will make a wonderful mother in a few months.’ Helaena stated quietly to her before ushering her twins out of the throne room and to their lessons.

‘She’s right you know. You will make a wonderful mother and I promise you to give you children as soon as I possibly can.’ Aemond swore, taking her arm and leading her from the room as well.

‘And I promise that I will never drink moon tea again.’

The both of them spent the next hour until dinner strolling around the castle and talking about their lives and what they want them to be here in the Keep.

‘Promise me one thing?’

‘Anything, my Love!’ Aemond swore, taking her hand in his as they walked into the dining hall and stepped towards the end of the table.

‘Promise me that should our daughters not have dragons that they will be trained to defend themselves-at least enough. I want to know that if I have daughters that they are safe…I know it isn’t normal but please, Aemond?’

Aemond considered this as he looked into the eyes of his betrothed and saw how much this meant to her. ‘Should you bless me enough in this world to give me little girls, I will train them myself. You have my word-dragons or not.’ Aemond watched as tears welled up in his brides eyes and she leaned closer to him, pulling him down to her height by his neck and kissing his lips sweetly.

‘Thank you Aemond.’

Dinner was eventful as was to be expected. Y/n at least tried to keep her betrothed from fighting her nephews but as Jace made a comment about how she would be a terrible mother when she has the kind of judgment that chooses Aemond as a husband, she was no longer willing to hold Aemond back-not that she could have anymore once he saw the tears in his brides eyes. Aemond lunged forward and took Jace to the ground, beating his face in until both Daemon and Criston Cole both got ahold of his arms and pulled him off of the idiot.

Y/n knew that her family wasn’t happy with her decision to marry Aemond but she decided that they would get over it in time-and time is what it took it seemed.

9 months after their wedding (technically 9 months after that horrible dinner) Aemond and Y/n welcomed their own set of twins into the world, 2 boys called Maelon and Maelor before having a daughter nearly a year later called Elaena. Elaena’s birth wasn’t an easy one like the twins was and after the scare that it gave him, Aemond forbid her from having any more children-instead he put a regiment in place where Maester Orwell brewed her moon tea every Sunday to ensure no more pregnancies. Many people disagreed with this and were adamant that a woman should have as many babies as possible however Aemond had broken more than one man’s face for saying such things in the presence of and Gods forbid actually saying to his wife!

Aemond and Y/n led a happy life from then on after removing themselves from the war, Aemond refusing to allow his family to use him and Vhagar as weapons-needing to stay with his wife and babies. They stayed on Dragonstone after that, Rhaenyra getting to use the idea of Vhagar being on their side as long as she kept her sons and step children away from Aemond.

After the quick war they lived out the rest of their lives with their children in the Keep, both Aemond and Y/n getting everything they wanted in the end-even if it took them a while to get there.

Aemond T. Masterlist

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lostbookmark · 2 days ago

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MDNI 🔞

Main Masterlist here

Game Masterlist here

Summary: After the death of your brother and his wife. You find yourself adjusting to a new role in your life. A single parent to your teenage nephew. How do you help him heal? How do you help yourself heal? You're not sure. You don't think you can, until an annoying basketball coach enters your life and turns everything around.

Pairing: Basketball Coach Yoongi x Single Aunt F. Reader

Genre: Romance, Angst, Smut, Strangers to Lovers, Hurt-Comfort

Warnings: Death Of Parents / Brother/ Family, Car Accident (Cause), Swearing, Explicit Sex, Arguments, Physical Fighting, Past Abusive Relationship, Talks Of Domestic Violence (Past)

Ten minutes late. A client had you on the phone forever, and now you're ten minutes late to Nicky's practice. Your heels click and clack down the hallway of the middle school as you hurry to the gym doors in your pencil skirt, swearing to yourself under your breath. You were more annoyed that you didn't have enough time to run home and change your clothes more than anything. Now, you'll get to sit through this practice with a sore ass and tight skirt that cuts slightly into your stomach. As you open the gymnasium door and step through the threshold, you can see all eyes turn to look at you.

Shit!

“Sorry,” you say quickly with a tight, guilty smile and make your way to the bleachers.

The first thing you notice when you climb a couple of stairs is the horrid group of moms shaking their heads at you. You roll your eyes directly at them as you sit down, trying to focus your attention on the court. That is when you notice blondie… Coach Min, who also gave you a look that you can't quite interpret, but you think he is annoyed. You swallow hard and sit up a bit straighter. He turns to watch the boys, and you slump back down some. This is stupid. You feel like you're in trouble with your parents and waiting for them to scold you because they had caught you sneaking back into the house when you were supposed to be grounded.

Ridiculous.

You pass your time ignoring everyone around you playing on your phone while occasionally looking up to check on Nicky like you did the past three days that you were here. You need to try and remember to bring something for you to do as you sit waiting. It would be easy to bring a book or maybe you could learn how to knit. Okay, that wasn't a good idea. You shouldn't have a pointy object around these moms. You don't know if you could trust yourself with sharp objects. You sigh with relief as both coaches finally blow their whistles, signaling the end of practice. Standing up, you stretch your back and make your way down to the floor to wait for Nicky to finish his team huddle. The other parents make their way down as well, all gathering further down than you in a group talking amongst themselves.The boys finish their huddle after another minute and disperse, finding their adult to finally leave. You smile at your nephew when he makes his way over to you.

“You ready?” You ask as he walks over to the bleachers and grabs his duffle.

‘Let's go,” he said, wiping the sweat from his face on a towel.

“Hold it,” Coach Min's deep voice said. You turn to look at him and watch as he approaches you. “Good job today, Nicky. Could you give your mom and I a minute alone?” You and Nicky look at each other. Neither one of you jumps to correct Coach Min. Nicky nods his head before running out the door to stand out in the hallway to wait for you. You give a loud sigh and look at the handsome man in front of you. He has a clipboard in his hand, which he flips a couple of pages before looking back at you.“Y/N, is it? You were late.”

“Yup,” you say, giving him a blank stare.

“All players need a guardian here,” he informs you.

“And….here I am,” you say.

“You were late,” he says again.

“Again….yup,” you say, shrugging your shoulders.

“You're going to be my problem parent, aren't you, Y/N? I always have at least one every year. Did you at least read our handbook?” He asks, and you look away guiltily, giving you away easily. “Of course not. You weren't even paying attention that first day of practice.”

“Listen, I'll read your little handbook and be on time from now on. Am I free to go, coach?” You ask sarcastically.

You watch as he presses his tongue to the side of his cheek, nodding to his head, agreeing that you can go. Without another word, you turn and leave, meeting Nicky in the hallway. When the young boy sees you, he starts to laugh at you, and you send a mock glare his way.

“Your coach is a dick,” you tell him as the two of you make your way out of the building.

“Awww, you said a bad word. You said dick,” Nicky says laughing even more.

Yup, laugh it up little boy. Laugh it up.

Your mom always said that if you weren't at least ten minutes early, then you were late. Well, that was good for her because you would be happy if you showed up to places right on time. It always felt like a big accomplishment. You run in your heels once more to the gym doors, bursting through them right at four o’clock on the dot.

Perfect!

Straightening your skirt, you tuck some stray hairs behind your ear as you walk over to the bleachers with some of the previously picked up paperwork in your hands, feeling triumphant.

“Cutting it close, aren't you?” Coach Min asked you with sharp eyes and crossed arms.

“Are you fucking kidding me? I made it, didn't I?” You ask back as you push Nicky's paperwork against his chest. His hand shot up to grab them and in turn brushed up against your own hand. You quickly remove your hand from the paper, bringing it back down to rest at your side.

“This is your only warning,” he said, moving his face closer to you.

“Warning for what?” You ask, incredulously .

“You clearly still haven't read our handbook. We don't swear here. Keep it clean around the kids.” He informs you. You purse your lips in an attempt to stop yourself from lashing out and saying every swear word you know out of spite. “Have a seat,” he said, walking away and putting your paperwork away.

You roll your eyes, biting your tongue as you take your normal seat just off to the side of the normal group. Another thing your mom always said was that you were mouthy. You never learned to keep your mouth shut. She wasn't wrong. It always killed you when you couldn't get the last word in during an argument. Did it get you in trouble? Yes, all the time, and you think you learned it from your mother. Maybe you inherited the trait from her. After all, she was the one you argued with the most, and just like you, she needed the last word as well.

“You better show the coaches some respect,” Ara, the main bitchy mom says from behind you. “I don't know what gutter you crawled out of, but we don't act like that here.”

You bite your tongue even harder, curling your hands into tight fists. Your patience with her is starting to run very thin, but you know that is exactly what she wants. Taking a deep breath through your nose as you look for Nicky on the court. He was laughing with another boy on the other side of the gym. Slowly, you exhale out your mouth, You know the deal with these types of things. Team things. You mess up and make the wrong person mad. Nicky will be the one to suffer.

Unfortunately, you were still you.

“It's probably the same gutter by the trashcan you crawled out of,” you say with a smirk, looking at her over your shoulder. “That would explain the smell.”

She, along with the other moms in her little entourage, all gasped. You can also hear deep chuckles from the few dads scattered about. You look to the front just in time to catch Coach Min looking back to see what was going on. His eyes flint between you and the rest of the moms, scrutinizing all of you. You give nothing away as you go about your own business. There was no way that you could do this for months. You wonder if maybe you could talk him into joining the school band or something less…competitive. You doubt it. You don't think you have ever seen him play an instrument, but how hard could learning the flute be? Internally, you sigh to yourself, knowing damn well you couldn't do that to him. Not when he was fitting in and finding his place on this team. All this bullshit was going to be worth it in the end. At least, that's what you will keep telling yourself.

You grimace as Nicky throws his sweat towel at you with a laugh. You remove it from its landing spot on your face and stick your tongue out at him. Looking at your watch, you swear under your breath. You had to get to your parents for your weekly dinner. You think you would rather deal with Ara and the other moms than deal with your own mother for a couple of hours. You'll get to hear about what a horrible job you were doing with Nicky. How she would be better for him and more attentive to his needs. How your house isn't clean enough. How you should cook more nutritionally balanced meals. You were already tired, and you weren't even there yet.

“You haven't signed up for the team app yet,” Coach Min says from behind you, making you turn around to look at him. His gravelly voice that you would normally find sexy is starting to sound like the most annoying voice you ever heard.

“I don't have a phone,” you lie.

His eyes drift down to your hand where you are obviously holding said black device. He raises an eyebrow as he looks back up to you.

“Schedules change all the time. That's where we keep you updated,” he continues like you just didn't straight up lie to his face.

“Let me guess,” you say quietly. “It's in the handbook.”

“You have an answer for everything, don't you?” He says, crossing his arms again. You wonder if he thinks it makes him look tough. You find it amusing.

“Sunshine, we're going to be late,” Nicky says, coming up to the two of you.

“Have a goodnight….coach,” you say sharply as you throw your arm around Nicky's shoulder before leading him out of the gymnasium. You don't have time for him. You have bigger fish to fry.

“Sunshine hates Coach Min,” Nicky says while eating his dinner. “She called him a dick.”

“Language,” your mother says, snapping her head to the side to look at him before turning her glare to you. Her eyes were wide, astounded by what came out of her grandson's mouth. “You can't disrespect your superiors like that.”

“He's not my superior, and I didn't say it to his face,” you say, defending yourself. “I'm not that stupid.”

“You can't teach Nicky that it's okay to say those things,” your mother stresses to you.

“He's fine,” your dad says, cutting into the conversation from where he sat at the table. “He's a respectful kid.”

“Yes, he is respectful, but she has issues with her mouth,” she bites back at him. “Kids are impressionable. They like to repeat things that they hear in their household.”

“Oh, I know not to call Coach Min a dick to his face,” Nicky says, and it makes you want to laugh.

“I think maybe that he should stay here for a while if you can't handle his extracurriculars,” she tells you while ignoring what her grandson just said. You notice Nicky suddenly freezes and stops eating as he takes in her words. “We are paying for everything, so it just makes sense.”

“You're not paying for everything,” you correct her, placing your own silverware down on your plate.

“Do you want me to make a list? Pictures, school clothes, your house…” your mother starts.

“STOP!” Your dad shouts, making everyone at the table jump. No one says a word as you all look at him. You don't even dare to breathe loudly. “Nicks, are you happy with sunshine?”

“Yes,” he says quietly, looking down at his plate. “I like living with her.”

“You can like living here too,” your mother says softly, leaning over to him across the table to grab his hand. “It's okay if you want to be here with us.”

“This conversation is over,” your dad says, turning back to his own plate to resume eating. “I don't want to hear it anymore.”

You're embarrassed as you pick up your fork and move the food around your plate. Your mom wasn’t wrong. They did pay for almost everything. Your brother's assets were sold and went to paying off debt that they had. You didn’t have much of a savings and were pretty much working paycheck to paycheck before they stepped in to help you. The house you were living in was actually one of your moms rental properties that happened to be empty. You didn't pay anything to them. Your dad wouldn't let you. He didn't even want to discuss taking money from you when you asked about rent. Luckily, due to this, you have been able to start to grow your savings once again. You weren't stupid. You knew your parents paid a lot to help you live a little more comfortably now that you have Nicky in your care. You just hated that she threw it in your face in front of him. That's not what family is supposed to do, but you have to deal with it. You couldn't do this alone, and everyone knew this. Staring blankly down at your plate, you take a bite of your food, letting her win.

She always wins.

“Is grandma going to make me live with her?” Nicky asks as you walk past his bedroom later that night.

“No,” you say, walking in, and sitting on his bed.

“Then why does she say things like that?” He asks while sitting down next to you. He drags his sock covered toes into the cream colored carpet, creating lines in the fibers. “Mom and dad wanted me to live with you. Why can't she just leave us alone?”

“I don't know,” you admit softly. “I just think that you look and act so much like your dad that by having you close…..it's like he's still here. I think you probably make her pain just a little more bearable.”

Nicky grows quiet as he looks down at the carpeted floor and the maze of lines he created in the textile. You think that you can hear him sniffle, and it breaks your heart. Tentatively, you place your hand on his back and rub gentle circles, trying to comfort him. Your eyes scan his bedroom and notice that he hasn't decorated it all. A bunch of his boxes were still taped up, hiding away in his closet. It doesn't even look like a teenager lives there, but more of a guest that's afraid to make a mess. You want him to feel like this is his home.

“We should get you some posters,” you comment very casually, still looking around his space. ��Maybe some of your favorite basketball players. Tom Brady is popular, right?”

“That's football, sunshine,” he says while laughing a little.

“Oh,” you say with a shrug of your shoulders. “We can put up some shelves for your trophies. Maybe mount a tv and move your gaming system in here. If grandma lets us, we can even paint. How does that sound?”

“Yeah, I'd like that,” he says, giving you a watery smile.

Wrapping your arms around him, he gives into your hug as he collapses against your body. You can feel his body shudder as he silently cries in your arms. You wish you could take away the hurt and the pain for him, but you know that's not possible. You will have to have a serious talk with your mother. You will not let her make him feel about wanting to live with you. You will not let her make him feel for her own selfish reasons. Absolutely not. Everyone was hurting. Not just her.

“I'm okay,” he says, pulling away from you and wiping his eyes with the back of his hand. “I'm sorry. I'm okay.”

“You don't have to be sorry,” you say softly, as you wipe some stray tears that continue to run down his young face. “Come get me anytime. If you need me, I'll always be here, and I'll never judge you for crying. You can snot all over me anytime you need to.”

Nodding his head, you get from his bed and walk out of his room, giving him some time alone to gather himself. Closing the door, you lean against the wall, taking a deep breath, holding it for as long as you can before you have to exhale. You're still not ready to cry. You can't do it. Not tonight, and probably not tomorrow. In fact, you don't ever want it to happen. You're stronger than that. You have no choice. You have to be.

Ha!

Running down the hall of middle school has now become a normal routine for you. Today, however, you dared to change out of your skirt and into black leggings that you brought into work. You can run a bit faster today in the tennis shoes compared to the heels that you normally wear. You giggle as you make it to the door. Pulling out your phone, you check the time as you walk into the gymnasium.

You made it.

“3:56. You can't say anything,” you say as you walk by Coach Min who was turned in your direction probably to say something smart to you.

You mentally smirk to yourself as you keep on walking and head up the few steps before sitting on the bleachers in victory. You were early, you stopped an annoying coach from talking to you, you had better clothes on. As long as those women don't push your buttons, this is going to be a good practice.

Unfortunately, good things always come to an end.

“What's this?” You ask Coach Dick…errr Min, as he shoves a piece of paper in your face after practice.

“Safety practices and health codes for running the concession stand,” he says simply, waving the paper for you to take. Spoiler…you do not take it. “You should learn before our first home game.”

“The handbook says it's voluntary,” you say.

“Usually, but I think you can do it,” he smirks, waving the paper once more.

“I don't know how to read,” you tell him, making him roll his eyes.

“Someone can read it to you,” he responds.

“I can't work with money. I don’t know how to make change,” you try again.

“You can have a calculator,” he retorts.

“I have rabies,” you say as seriously as you could.

You watch his lips twitch in what you think is going to be a smile before he bites his bottom lip and looks away. It takes him a good minute and a neck crack to get himself back together. He tries to hand you the paper once more, and you shake your head at him.

“You are a part of this team,” he says. “Everyone…”

“I am not a part of this team,” you say seriously, dropping your act. “These parents have made daaa…darn sure to let me know I'm not part of this team. Don't give me the whole "we are a team” bullshhhh ….. crap speech.”

He drops his arm and stares at you for a moment. You can't tell what he is thinking, and it unnerves you. His eyes are dark, and his gaze is piercing, penetrating deep into your soul. You want to squirm under their scrutiny. Maybe you shouldn't have said that. If he is petty, he probably won't let Nicky play, benching him for the season.

“I know they are a lot to handle,” he admits. “Don't let them push you out.”

With that, he turns and walks away from you. He didn't try to make you take paper again. You sighed with relief, but there was something else, too. You think a part of you feels bad, or you ate something rotten as you feel your stomach flip. He can't control how the mothers treat you, and he definitely can't control how you react to them. Maybe you should try a little harder. You wouldn't try harder for him or the bitchy mothers, but you'll try harder for Nicky. You want him to feel like he's completely part of the team and if that means you have to sling some hot dogs then so be it.

Dammit!

“Give it to me,” you say, walking up to Coach Min, who was packing away a bag.

“Excuse me,” he said, blinking rapidly at you before licking his lips and clearing his throat.

“The concession paper,” you tell him as you try not to stare at his mouth and the wetness that his tongue created. The blank look on his face morphed to one of understanding. He reaches for a folder and hands you the safety protocol paper once more. This time, you did take it. You bite your lip in concentration as your eyes fly over the words quickly. “I don't have to do this every home game…right?” You ask, looking up at him through your lashes.

“No,” he answered, clearing his throat again while shifting a little nervously. “No, just the first game. I have volunteers for the others.” You nod without a word. Turning, you make your way to the double doors of freedom. Opening one side, his voice makes you stop and turn to look at him. “Thank you. Have a good night, Y/N.”

Lazily, you raise your hand in goodbye. In your car, Nicky was typing away on his phone. He didn't even spare you a glance as you got in, starting your vehicle. With a defeated sigh, you turn your head to look at him.

“I have to do concessions at the first home game,” you announce without much emotion in your voice.

“What did you do to make him mad this time?” He asks with a laugh.

“Very funny,” you say, buckling yourself in.

Who knows. Maybe working the concession stand will be better than sitting with a bunch of people who don't want you there. Maybe you'll like it and demand to do it every home game. You doubt it, but crazier things have happened. Crazier things have happened.

Tagged Readers:

@busanbby-jjk , @meelismee @jajabro , @wicked-game-black-butler @wobblewobble822 , @damn-u-min-yoongi @mintedagustd , @Granataepfelchen

@yoongiiuu93, @jimeg629 @jincapableoflove @redragdoll @seoullove96 @kam9404 @amarawayne @haileyborig @mar-lo-pap

#yoongi smut #yoongi x reader #yoongi fanfic #yoongi x you #min yoongi smut #yoongi au #bts yoongi #bts min yoongi #min yoongi #yoongi #yoongi angst #yoongi fic #bts suga #suga bangtan #suga bts #suga #suga fic #bts fic #yoongi scenarios

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boohorns1136439 · 2 days ago

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Learning to belong ~ poly!MHA x fem!Reader (10)

So it’s been a while, huh? I think the beginning of the year crashed into me like a bulldozer, and I wasn’t in the mood to write. Well, I did write, but everything looked like shit from the butt. But at last, I managed to push through it. I tried something different with the writing here, so I hope it’s better than my previous work. Enjoy!

Tags: Pack! Izuku Midoriya X Bakugo Katsuki X Shoto Todoroki X Kirishima Eijirou ; Pack! X fem!Reader ; Omega!Izuku Midoriya ; Omega!Bakugo Katsuki ; Omega!Shoto Todoroki ; Omega!Kirishima Eijirou ; technically Beta!Reader ; modern Au ; post-UA ; Reader has a quirk ; non hero!Reader ; smut eventually ; fem!Reader ; afab!Reader

09 <- 10 -> 11

Masterlist

Taglist

Izuku truly wished they could put this whole incident behind them and move on. He had hoped that once Todoroki sent an email to the hospital director—a carefully worded, deeply sincere apology addressed to Doctor L/N and the hospital, sent the day after his failed attempt at apologizing in person— would lift some of the weight off Todoroki and Kirishima’s shoulders. That soon enough, things would settle, and the pack would be back to normal.

But from the moment Todoroki first told them what had happened, Izuku had a bad feeling. He knew that Todoroki going to the hospital alone to apologize was the right thing to do, but there had been something in Todoroki’s eyes, a sharp glint of excitement that didn’t sit right with him. And when he’d returned home that night, he’d found him on the couch, motionless, his hand buried in a bowl of peach slices and his fingers sticky with juice. His expression vacant, and absent. Kirishima hadn’t been the same either. If anything, after hearing about the failed apology attempt, he had gotten worse. Somehow, a single alpha, one Izuku had never even met, had managed to throw his entire pack into chaos.

Rationally, he knew it wasn’t the doctor’s fault. If anyone was to blame, it was his mates. But the whole situation was so strange, so frustrating, that he couldn’t help understand how the hell they had ended up here. He’d tried to ask Todoroki about the alpha, about you, but all he got was a name, and something about the way Todoroki said it made him hesitate to press any further. When he turned to Kirishima, he got even less. The redhead had been too angry that day to remember much at all. All he recalled, a few days later, was an unfamiliar fruity scent mixed with Todoroki’s before he broke the door open.

Now, three days had passed, yet the air in their apartment only grew heavier. And Todoroki—Todoroki was hardly there at all, more shadow than man. He spent most of his days asleep, and when he was awake, he barely moved, barely spoke. Just sat there, eyes fixed on the wall with an hollow expression, as if he were somewhere far beyond their reach. He wasn’t eating either, at least not enough. He’d claimed to have no appetite. The only thing Todoroki had asked for—had eaten without hesitation—was peaches. Not just a few, but an almost absurd amount, day after day, like he was possessed. He would sit there, silent and distant, methodically working through bowl after bowl, as if peaches were the only thing tethering him to reality. And the strangest part? He never seemed satisfied. No matter how many he ate, it was never enough. Since when did Todoroki even like peaches this much? Izuku had no idea and he was getting weird out by the sheer amount of peach’s pits in their trash can.

Izuku had tried to get him to eat more, something other than just peaches. He tried a soft approach, casually suggesting he add something else to his plate, like rice or any protein, just to balance it out. But no matter how he went about it, Todoroki refused every time, just shaking his head and mumbling that he wasn’t hungry. Kirishima’s attempts weren’t successful either, he had brought home soba from Todoroki’s favorite spot, but Todoroki only took a couple of bites before pushing the bowl away. Katsuki couldn’t do any of the gentle approaches. He had yelled, scowled, and was a breath away from shoving food down Todoroki’s throat. But none of it worked. It was like trying to start a fire with wet wood—Todoroki just sat there, blank-eyed and distant, completely unreachable.

It was a mess. A complete, exhausting mess. And if Todoroki was worrying him to death, Kirishima wasn’t far behind.

At least he was still functional—he still ate, still spoke, still went to work—but there was something off. He was quieter, his usual warmth dulled at the edges. Kirishima was their glue, the one who lifted their spirits and held them together when things got rough, but ever since they failed to get through to the hospital—failed to contact you—he hadn’t been himself fully. The only response they had gotten to Todoroki’s email was a generic, automated reply, and that had done nothing but add to Kirishima’s guilt.

Izuku sat on the couch, his laptop on the coffee table while he absentmindedly tapped his fingers against his knee, his thoughts running in circles.

This wasn’t the first time Todoroki had been reckless. Beneath that calm exterior, he could be just as stubborn as Katsuki and him, even rash. But this? The complete detachment, the disregard for his own well-being, the strange obsession with a single food ? It wasn’t just a quiet withdrawal from his pack, It was like he’d stopped caring about himself completely. And that’s worried Izuku to death. He felt sick and helpless, and powerless. Why is this happening? His thoughts spiraled, fast and frantic. Was there something we missed? Maybe he’s just really tired and it will all get sort out ? But this isn’t like him. He’s shutting everyone out. Izuku’s chest tightened. What if I can’t fix this? What if it’s already too late? His mind kept racing, as it always did, with no answers, just more and more questions.

The coldness from their mate reminded him too much of their early high school days, when Todoroki had been a boy made of ice, all sharp edges and frozen shut doors. Izuku felt like the bond they shared had frayed, leaving him disconnected, adrift, as if though he was fading from their grasp.

The pieces didn’t add up. Frankly, the more he thought about it, the stranger it became. How had a simple visit to the hospital turned into this? What exactly had happened in that room? Izuku couldn’t shake the feeling that he was missing something. And when he felt like that, he did what he always did—he investigated.

He started with the hospital itself, combing through their website, news articles, and patient reviews. Most of it was clean. No major scandals, no malpractice lawsuits, no patient complaints that weren’t immediately resolved. Still unsatisfied, he called the hospital again, this time pushing harder for answers but all he got was a meeting with the director of the hospital tomorrow afternoon which was better than nothing.

After that call, something clicked. When Todoroki came back home, he’d been in heat—and Kirishima had stayed with him through it. But it had been early, too early. The pack tracked their cycles meticulously, they had to. If all of them ended up « indisposed » at the same time, and a high-profile villain struck, it would be a disaster.

This wasn’t just odd. It was wrong, he thought. There has to be an explanation for this.

And so, he dove into research again, scouring medical papers, forums, even the more questionable corners of the internet. At first, all he found were the usual causes—stress, sudden hormonal shifts, pack mates, environmental factors. But none of those fit. None of them explained why Todoroki’s heat had hit him so randomly. And then, buried under layers of medical jargon and old case studies, he found it.

It was possible to induce a heat. Not naturally, not safely, but with the right mix of drugs, it could be done. Hospitals wouldn’t do it legally, of course, but the medications required for it? They weren’t rare. Every one of them could be found in any hospital.

Did someone do this to him? His heart hammered in his chest, just imagining this possibility. The thought alone made his hands tremble with anger. Alphas abusing omegas were not rare, and doctors abusing their patients were even less rare. It disgusted him to think Todoroki and Kirishima were beating themselves over this incident when the doctor was responsible after all. No, just potentially responsible. He couldn’t know for sure but part of him was already certain that this was the explanation.

As Izuku scrolled through paper after paper on this drug, the apartment remained still allowing him to fully soak every information he could find online. The low hum of the heater was the only sound breaking the silence. It was just him and Todoroki tonight, though he hadn’t seen his mate since morning.

But then, footsteps.

Todoroki stepped into the living room, his movements slow, mechanical. He didn’t acknowledge Izuku, didn’t even glance in his direction—just crossed the space and sank onto the couch with a quiet, exhausted sigh. His posture was loose, almost boneless, but there was no real relaxation to it—just the weight of someone running on empty.

Izuku’s fingers hovered over his laptop. He hadn’t even realized how much time had passed, how deep he’d buried himself in his research. Outside the glow of his screen, the apartment was already dark, save for the dim light spilling from the his pc. It was late. Later than he’d thought and he probably start to make dinner for tonight.

Izuku still remained sited on the couch though, seeing Todoroki like this—so empty—only made his anger burn hotter and made him stop his tracks. But he forced himself to swallow it down. He couldn’t afford to lash out, not when he still wasn’t sure. He had to wait for tomorrow, when he’ll have the meeting with the director.

One way or another, he was going to get answers.

Izuku shut his laptop, fingers lingering over the lid. He didn’t want anyone finding out about this—not until he had proof. But before he could fully gather his thoughts, the sudden bang of the front door swinging open, followed by the unmistakable rasp of Katsuki’s voice, nearly sent him jumping to his feet.

“The hell is it so damn dark in here?” Bakugo grumbled, irritated as he flicked on the lights.

Izuku blinked at the sudden brightness, squinting as his blond mate strode inside with Kirishima trailing closely behind.

“Hey, I thought you guys had night patrol,” Izuku said, glancing toward the clock hanging on the wall. They weren’t supposed to be home yet.

“We did,” Bakugo responded as he tossed his keys onto the counter. “Something came up, someone covered for me.”

Kirishima didn’t say anything at first. He moved past Bakugo, arms crossing over his chest as he leaned against the back of the couch, his gaze flickering toward Todoroki. Checking on him.

“My agency had an emergency downtown,” he finally said, voice lacking its usual warmth. “A villain attack turned into a rescue op. They needed extra hands for search and rescue. By the time we were done, they gave me my evening.”

Izuku hummed in acknowledgment, but his attention drifted to Katsuki, who hadn’t moved from where he stood. His gaze was locked onto Todoroki, sharp, expectant.

Waiting

But Todoroki didn’t react. Didn’t look up. Didn’t even acknowledge any of them too.

Just nothing

Bakugo grumbled something under his breath before heading into the kitchen with anger in each step.

I hope y’all enjoyed the chapter! Chapter 11 will be out soon, and we’ll get a Bakugo POV soon too. I wanted to focus on the pack dynamics before the reader enters, and there’ll be more of that next chapter. I think it’s important to show the established couple’s bond, so yeah we’ll get a lot of it and even more after the reader come in the picture.

Doing a taglist is a too much work omg, no wonder most people don’t do it nowadays. On one hand I like that it hard bc that’s mean so many people want to keep up with my fics that I ended having to tag many people, on the other hand this lowkey discouraging me from posting bc I know I have to update the list every time 😭

This is such a fake ass problem to have, I am self aware.

As always, criticisms are welcomed

Big thank you to @cafekitsune who made the beautiful dividers

09 <- 10 -> 11

Taglist: @too-much-gacha ; @electronicexpertshark ; @poopopp ; @cjdjfhfhfufjfdj ; @kimi01985 ; @icycoldbeanieweanies ; @ghostlyworld ; @marsbars09 ; @queenondeezmatatas ; @imnotherw ; @bedheadloser ; @chrisbiniesluvrr ; @fsocs-blog ; @jadeddangel ; @qardasngan ; @goldenglow149 ; @andysteve1311 ; @pinkmelodies ; @hopefulb1ue ; @redkarmakai ; @zukusluvr ; @navezepol221 ; @candiiee ; @aaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaq ; @mniya ; @randomhuman112 ; @mintvender r ; @deadendgrim ; @captainswanarcher ; @figbaby ; @midnight-nightmare ; @talilosha ; @bawlangya ; @optimisticprime3 ; @purplescorpi0 ; @astrolovedy ; @desiree-lee ; @okaysxx ; @the-faceless-bride ; @thelameone101 ; @gethexxed ; @lowkeyhottho ; @bvirrious ; @heespretty ; @roxy776699 ; @kamy-thee-egg ; @talia-the-gemini ; @pikachuzhc ; @itsnotjustmyself-blog ; @roxy776699 ; @mystic60 ; @reallysparklychaos ; @sixxze ; @blurryperrtymoonlight ; @1poison-cat1 ; @allyfoxglove ; @mindsbloody ; @jkvolgs ; @haruaikawa ; @k3nmakyan ; @my-anime-garden ; @fto6 ; @hanniesroom ; @readeryn68 ; @queenofsimps001 ; @mai1em ; @demonzgutzz ; @sleepy-x-snake ; @xxang3|zz ; @decadentcrusadefun ; @shhhstar ; @n3ptOnee ; @nxcx|Ixsevens ; @mailem ; @aslos ; @thatone-gayweeb ; @eveylynnn ; @nervoussangel ; @inakyo ; @graythecoffeebean ; @ninabinna ; @3thr3al ; @barrythestrawberry041 ; @omgeyeless-blog ; @primary-022 ; @prettyprojectshq ; @bluepatrolbear ; @literallyjustmyself23 ; @p3n310p3 ; @slayerdiva ; @hw-shorty ; @quixoticcat ; @fluffypuffyfishyswishy

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cheshireliam · 2 days ago

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"The Past Records: Liam Evans & Harrison Gray" Party Event: Chapter 3

Lies and Transparency

This is a fan-made translation solely for entertainment purposes with no guaranteed perfection; expect mistakes, grammatical errors, and some creative liberties. All original content and media used belongs to Cybird. Please support the game by buying their stories and playing their games. Reblogs appreciated.

Read this before interacting

Liam: I felt relieved when Harry said “you don’t have to say it”.

Liam: At the same time… I was also impressed.

Liam: Despite having the ability to expose lies, Harry also has the kindness to let some lies remain lies.

Liam: It was at that moment when I genuinely thought I wanted to be friends with Harry.

Ellis: I see, so that’s what happened… wow, that’s a really good story.

Ellis: How did your first mission end?

Liam: We killed the mastermind. It was nothing exciting, really. I barely remember what happened in the end.

The topic came to a close with the understanding that the friendship between the two stemmed from being mutually considerate of each other.

— But their story doesn’t end there.

…

Harrison: — Liam.

Liam: What's up, Harry? Oh, could it be that thinking of old times made you fall in love with me?

Harrison: Don’t be stupid. … But, thanks.

Harrison: For lying that you “barely remember what happened in the end”.

Once again, time rewinds back to their first mission.

This is the part of the story they never told the other members of Crown.

…

After dealing with the mercenaries hired by their target, Harrison and Liam were getting information out of one of the survivors.

Thick-Browed Policeman: Damn, looks like this is the end of me…

Harrison: Hand over the list of criminals you helped escape prison.

Liam: Along with the details of their hideouts.

Resigning to his fate, the policeman pulled a notebook out of his breast pocket.

Harrison: Is this all of it?

Policeman: Yeah, that’s all.

Harrison: … You’re not lying.

Finally done with the mission, Harrison and Liam both heaved sighs of relief.

All that was left to do was get rid of the policeman in secret.

However, just as they were about to do so, the policeman gasped and approached Harrison.

Policeman: You. You’re Gray’s son, aren't you?

Liam: … You know him?

Policeman: I knew it! I had a feeling I’ve seen that face somewhe—

His words were cut off by a gunshot.

Policeman: Ugh… ggh…

With a look of agony, the man breathed his final breath.

Harrison: Sorry, but… forget what just happened.

Harrison spoke with a heavy tone while holding the gun that fired the fatal shot.

Liam: … Okay, got it. I won’t ask for details.

Liam: Like you said before, Harry… as colleagues, we only have to share things like the signal for jumping into action, details about our curse’s abilities…

Liam: How fast we can run, our well we can swim… stuff like that, right?

Harrison: … That helps.

Liam: But that's not the reason why I’m not going to pry.

Liam’s tone sounded cheeky, but Harrison stared intensely at him with his mint-green eyes, silently questioning his true intentions.

Liam: I won’t ask questions you don’t want to be asked, and I won’t say things you don’t want to hear either.

Liam: I’m doing this not as a colleague, but as a friend!

Harrison: A friend…

Meeting Liam’s gaze, Harrison looked slightly surprised.

Harrison: On the day we first met, you said “I have a feeling we’ll get along”, and that was a lie…

Harrison: Is this thing about being ��friends” not also a lie?

Liam: Ah—... back then, you see, I think it sounded like a lie because of my personal issues.

Liam: I often throw myself into dangerous situations, have episodes that cause problems for others, and…

Liam: Even if I wanted to get along with you, I just thought you wouldn't want to get along with me.

Harrison: And that’s why… “I have a feeling we’ll get along” ended up being a lie.

Harrison fell silent when he ascertained the truth hidden behind Liam’s lie, and Liam didn’t force him to say any more.

…

After concealing the evidence at the scene, the two were on their way back to the castle.

The mission was carried out in the darkness of the night, but somewhere along the way, the morning sun had risen.

Liam: What was that book you stole from the target’s mansion just now? Do you like books?

Harrison: … You’ve been asking way too many questions ever since a while ago.

Liam: Nah… it just got awkward because you suddenly went quiet.

Harrison: Oh… I was thinking about some things.

Harrison slightly slowed his pace. He hesitantly opened his lips, as though carefully choosing the right words.

Sensing that he was about to say something important, Liam kept quiet and waited.

Harrison: … Maybe I trust my curse’s ability too much.

Liam widened his eyes at the unexpected timidity in Harrison’s voice.

Harrison: When I found out you were lying, I assumed it meant you wanted nothing to do with me.

Harrison: That’s why I kept my distance from you, but… turns out that's not the case, huh?

Liam: Yeah! I genuinely want to be friends with you, Harrison.

Harrison: That’s why… I’ve been rethinking things, and I guess my ability isn’t as absolute as I thought.

Harrison: I shouldn't have refused to shake your hand back then… sorry, Liam.

Liam: No need to feel bad about that. I didn’t take it to heart at all!

Liam: Alrighty then, we’re officially friends from now on!

Harrison: Friends… hang on, that’s not how it works.

Liam: Huh? Then how does it work?

Harrison: … Hanging out? Eating together?

Liam: Then let’s do everything you can think of, Harry! Then we’ll really REALLY be friends. Alright, it’s decided!

Harrison: This is the first time I’ve ever had a friendship forced on me…

Harrison: What are your intentions?

Liam: My intention is to be your friend! Because I’ve taken a liking to you, Harry!

Liam: So we MUST become friends no matter what!

Harrison: *Sigh*... You’re weird.

Harrison let out an exasperated sigh and kept walking, but he was no longer stopping Liam from calling him by a nickname.

With the clear morning sky above them, the doubts and misunderstandings born from lies disappeared.

And so, that was the start of the unlikely friendship between the lying fox and the cheshire cat who were polar opposites.

#ikemen villains #ikemen series #ikevil translations #liam evans #harrison gray #cybird ikemen #cybird otome #otome

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mia-can-yap-too · 2 days ago

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Murder on the Dance Floor

What?:- Oh no! The mastermind behind Blue Lock, Ego Jinpachi, has been found dead in his room! Now, it’s up to Detective Y/n L/n to find the perpetrator.

Warnings:- talks of death, poisoning, overdose, amateur descriptions of interrogations, a tired attempt at crack

Suspect #1 :- Isagi Yoichi

“9:15 am!” You slam your hand on the table. It startles the man in front of you. “At 9:15 am, Ego Jinpachi was found dead by his assistant. Where were you at around 9:15 am that day?”

You can tell he is worried by the sweat on his brow, and the way he swallows before answering. “I was in the training rooms, with Kaiser, you can ask him! Well… We weren’t exactly training, more like we were arguing, but nothing related to Ego, I swear!”

You narrow your eyes at him. “What time did you arrive at the training rooms? Where were you before?”

“I woke up at about 6 am, I was the first so I don’t think anyone saw me. I took my time showering, I had breakfast at in the cafeteria and then got to the training rooms at…around 8:30, I believe? I don’t know the exact time, sorry.”

“When did Kaiser arrive?”

“He came not long after, maybe 10 or 15 minutes later. I had tried to mind my own business but he kept provoking me, so we started arguing until we heard a scream, from Anri. We evacuated then. That’s all I know.”

“Did you go anywhere near the control room that morning?”

“Well, I did pass the room, but I didn’t enter it or anything. Actually… I think I saw someone leave the room just as I was turning the corner. I think it was Shidou.”

Your brows furrowed. What was he doing there? “Around what time did you seen him leave?”

Isagi scratches his chin and thinks for a few minutes. “I don’t remember.”

You sigh. “Alright, that will be all.”

“Also… Could you do me a favor?”

“Favor?” You ask.

“Yeah…if it turns out to be Shidou, can you like…not tell anybody that I snitched? It gives me a bad look, you see.”

There is a moment of silence. “What? You want me to keep vital information to myself? You do realize that this a murder case, Isagi?”

His face flushes with embarrassment. “No one likes snitches! You know what they say, ‘Snitches don’t get bitches.’ I don’t wanna be single for the rest of my life!”

“Are you so serious right now?” You deadpan.

“…well?”

“Just get out, already.”

Suspect #2 :- Rin Itoshi

“Did you have any animosity towards Ego?” You ask.

Rin’s expression doesn’t change. “Who didn’t have any animosity with him?”

“Tell me about your morning that day, with a timeline, please.”

Rin sighs as if he had better things to do than sit in an interrogation room. “I woke up at 5, showered and had breakfast at 6, then did yoga in the training room. I was early so I wouldn’t have to interact with anybody.”

“There was no one in the training room?” Confusion, and suspicion, is evident on your face. Which isn’t very good for a detective, but still. “Isagi and Kaiser also reported to be in the training room. How come you didn’t see them and they didn’t see you?”

“Because, Detective Dumbass, there are many training rooms. I was in the PXG wing.” Rin rolls his eyes as he explains.

You nod to show you understand. “Got it. And you’re sure that you saw nobody?”

“Yes, how many times do I have to tell you?”

This guy was getting on your nerves.

“Do you suspect anyone to have a reason to murder Ego?”

“No solid evidence but, I did overhear Barou complaining about Ego the other day. I think he said something along the lines of, ‘I’m gonna kill that motherfucker one day’. Though, maybe I misheard him.”

“Okay, thank you for your time.”

Rin gets up to leave, yet he stops in his tracks when he reaches the door. He turns around to look at you, as if he was about to give you some information that would turn the tables of this case.

“You make a shit detective, by the way.”

As if your career wasn’t hanging on by a thread already.

Suspect #3 :- Reo Mikage

“I’m not speaking till my lawyer arrives.” This is the first thing Reo Mikage said in the interrogation room. Which was, admittedly, the smartest move he could have made but you didn’t have the time to deal with that. So, after a whole minute of begging and a promise to give your number, you got him to talk.

“I woke up a bit later than usual that day, because Nagi was being difficult to wake. At about 8, I would say. We got showered and then were in the cafeteria when the evacuation alarm went off. We didn’t get to train or anything.”

“Who else was in the cafeteria with you?” You question.

“A couple others, we were in the main cafeteria after all. …Can I ask something if it isn’t confidential?” Reo hesitates.

“Go ahead.”

“How was he killed? Was he…stabbed or something?”

Was this confidential information? Probably not, right? Oh well, what’s the harm. “No, he died by poisoning. Speaking of, the kitchens are near the cafeteria, right? The staff has been cleared of suspicion so it couldn’t have been them. Did you see anyone near the kitchen before 9:15?”

Reo takes a moment to remember. “To think of it, yes, I did see someone. It was Micheal Kaiser.”

“Kaiser was near the kitchens?”

“No, I don’t, sorry.”

You nod. “Thank you, you’ve been great help.”

“Soo… about that number of yours.”

Suspect #4 :- Barou Shoei

“Barou, could you tell me how your morning went that day?”

He is very cooperative, respectful too. “Yes. I woke up at 6, then till 7 I was done with showering, cleaning up and breakfast. I went to the TV room after and analyzed my opponents play styles till I had to evacuate.”

You note it all down, because you don’t get paid enough to have a recorder, and using your phone just killed the vibe, y’know?

“An anonymous report tells me that a few days before the incident, you said something along the lines of wanting to kill ‘that motherfucker’ while complaining about Ego. Was this ‘motherfucker’ you referenced, Ego?”

Barou furrows his brows as if he can’t remember, but then a look of realization crosses his face. “I can explain that. Ego had made the training regimen more complicated, as if I don’t have my own to do before that. So of course, I was frustrated and complained to whatever lowly scum was near me. Yes, ‘that motherfucker’ was Ego, but I wasn’t serious at all when I said it. Just a burst of frustration, is all.”

“Ah, okay. Just one more thing. From 7-9:15, did you have any alibis?”

He nods. “Yes, Aiku saw me in the cafeteria and bathrooms, and Don Lorenzo was there with me in the TV rooms.”

“Alright, I will confirm it. Um, I know I said that was the last question, but I have one more, sorry for taking more of your time. You may leave after this.”

He gestures for you to continue.

“Was anyone acting suspicious, in your opinion?”

He taps his finger on the table as he thinks back. “Don’t take this seriously, but maybe Rin. He’s been irritable and more moody these days. Maybe he’s just on his period, that pussy.”

Suspect #5 :- Micheal Kaiser

“Why are the lights so dim in here?” Kaiser looks around.

He seems very comfortable in his seat, lounging even.

You gather your files, which you honestly haven’t used so far. “For aesthetic purposes. I’ll go straight in this time. Someone said they saw you near the kitchens not long before the body was found. What were you doing there?”

“Who told you? Was it Isagi? Can’t keep his mouth shut, can he?”

“It doesn’t matter who told me. What were you doing in the kitchens?”

“Nothing important. When you get a sandwich from the cafeteria, the crusts are already cut off because some people here never matured in their lives, like that Nagi dude. Anyway, I wanted crusts because I felt like it, so I requested some from the kitchens. That is all.”

“I will confirm it with the staff after, so you better not be lying. Did you see anyone else in the kitchen? Anyone who wasn’t supposed to be there?”

Kaiser shrugs. “Other than Ness, not really, I didn’t notice. Ness was only there because he follows me like a lost puppy.”

“I see…”

“It was death by poisoning, wasn’t it? The word spread. Truth be told, I think it was that rich guy, Reo. You can’t get a hold of anything here unless you have someone on the outside.”

Then he leans back nonchalantly, like he didn’t just accuse someone of murder. “But what would I know? You’re the professional, here.”

Does a month of work experience make you a professional?

Suspect #6 :- Shidou Ryusei

“Shidou, you should know by now that the body was found in the control room.”

He nods, his usual smirk still on his face and his eyes checking you out. “Mhm.”

“Reports say that you were seen leaving the control room not long before the time of death. What were you doing in there?”

“Ego called me, he wanted to ‘discuss my behavioral issues’.” He makes quotation marks with his fingers. “Really, he wanted to tell me that if I didn’t get me shit together, he would kick me out of Blue Lock. Which was funny actually, cuz he was stuffing his face with noodles as he wanted me, LMAO.”

“That’s it? When you were in the room, did you see anybody other than him? Or any suspicious items? Anything?”

“Nah, I didn’t. But do you know what’s really suspicious? The way Isagi”—

He is cut off when your coworker busts open the door. He is out of breath and tried to talk while catching it. Horrible idea, really.

“D-Detective L/n!”

“What is it?” You press with concern.

“The autopsy report was faulty. He died from ‘noodle overdose’.”

“How the fuck does one die from noodles?!”

A/n:- tbh i don’t even know what this is. I just got inspired by who knows what. also, no other parts for this.

m.list

#mia wrote this #bllk x reader #barou shoei x reader #shidou ryusei x reader #micheal kaiser x reader #isagi yoichi x reader #rin itoshi x reader #reo mikage x reader #blue lock #blue lock reo #bllk #itoshi rin #isagi yoichi #shidou ryusei #micheal kaiser #reo mikage

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feitanii-ll · 2 days ago

Text

Pt. 1 Pt.2 Pt.3

September, 2007

“So.. you have my brother?”

Satoru’s eyes glide over from pale blue, cloud-filled sky, to where the small voice sounds from in front of him.

From Tsumiki’s perspective, the sorcerer seemed to be in a mood. White brows furrowed deep in thought, wrinkles on his forehead— like something was bothering him. The complete opposite of the side of him she saw when he first arrived to New York to basically kidnap her. The details of how he managed to just.. steal her from the school system was blurred, and something that Satoru refused to share, and so she didn’t necessarily bother to ask.

But to break the uneasy tension, she decides to ask about the obvious priority at hand. Simply coming back home to Megumi. And finding out who the hell this stranger is.

Satoru visibly softens up at the question, freakishly fast, as if he hadn’t been clearly pondering about something. So far, Tsumiki’s impression of the man was.. unclear.

“Your brother is fine. Like I explained back at the school, you two will be staying with my wife and I.” He puts simply, letting out a dramatic yawn and stretching his arms over his head before plopping back against the seat. “Ya want anything? Chips, pretzels? All that unhealthy junk?” He questions with a grin, “it’s my plane, ya know. You can have whatever ya want!”

“How does he know you, exactly?” The girl questions in a timid voice, blatantly ignoring the offer, hoping that her brother hadn’t gotten into any trouble while she was away.

Satoru pouts, but decides to break the news anyways.

“Uh, well.. he didn’t until a few days ago. You remember the man your mother married, don’t you? Toji?”

At that, tsumiki leans forwards in curiosity, “wh— yeah, what about him?” She sputters. He doesn’t know how long it’s been since she’s seen that man.

“Don’t get your hopes up.” Satoru butts in, “He’s dead.”

Tsumikis brows furrow, and her mouth drops open a fraction.

The sorcerer cringes. Maybe he’s got to start sugar coating more…

──────

After an onslaught of questions and answers, Tsumiki reasonably passes out on the seat in front of him. The jet lag was going to be a bit much for the girl, that he knew.

Satoru stands up and turns to face the overhead carrier to which he spots the small blanket that you had insisted he pack. Grabbing it, he unfolds it and drapes it over the child, giving her shoulder a small pat before shutting the lid and sitting back down. Just as he does, his phone vibrates in the front pocket. It’s you, he thinks. And he’s right.

He’s quick to slip it out his pocket and answer it, pressing the device between his ear and shoulder.

“What’s up, my love?” He answers quietly, tone ever so soft with you.

“Is everything okay, ‘Toru? How’s tsumiki?” You ask.

Satoru would be having a blast if he saw how close Megumi was to you on the other end, following you like a gnat at a barbecue when he realizes his sister is just on the other line. You’re folding laundry, and with every move you make, little Megumi is trying his hardest to take the phone from you with his small hands, to which you have to ignore him and push him away gently.

You watch from your peripheral as the boy hops up and down, grubby little hands trying so hard to snag the phone from you.

When that doesn’t work, he resorts to getting a chair, dragging it towards the table you’re working on and hopping up on it, but still needing to be in his tiptoes to try and get the phone.

You pause your sentence and chuckle softly at the little boys frustrated expression. Your hand moves to ruffle his hair, and you resume your sentence.

“Is tsumiki awake? Megs wants to talk to her.” You shake your head at him playfully when his face softens at the question. There’s a small pause, and some muffled speaking before you hear the voice clearly. You set the phone down and place it on speaker.

“Hello..?” A groggy voice sounds out, and you could just cry at the visible change in the boy at the sound of his sisters voice.

“‘Miki..?” Megumi asks softly, and you hear the girl gasp over the phone, the sleep vanishing from her voice.

“Megumi! Oh my goodness, are you okay? Are you hurt?” The words are rushed and filled with worry from what you can hear.

Megumi furiously shakes his head no, despite the fact that tsumiki can’t see him.

“No. I’m alright. I’m with the guy’s wife right now. Mrs y/n is nice. Are you okay? That guy is annoying.. you won’t get used to it anytime soon—”

You can hear Satoru protest in the background, and tsumiki laugh, which makes you chuckle in return; shaking your head as you continue to fold the laundry and give up on ever getting the phone back from Megumi.

Megumi proceeds to talk to his sister for a moment, and you silently eves drop on the conversation as he discusses the situation he’s in. You can only hope that tsumiki will be able to adapt in time now that she’ll have her brother. Now that they don’t have to worry about the basics like food and shelter.

You snap out of your thought bubble when there’s a small tug on your pant leg. Glancing down, you’re met with Megumi holding your phone in both of his hands, arms outstretched towards you as if indicating for you to take it. Thanking him with a smile and pat on the head, you hold the device up to your ear before pressing it between it and your shoulder.

“Satoru?” You call, and in return, you’re met with your boyfriend’s voice, as sultry and playful as ever.

“Still here, my love,” and you hum, closing your eyes in content. “We should touch down by tomorrow morning. The girl is gonna sleep. You should too.”

“I will, I will,” you assure, nodding “in due time… I’m just worried—“

“Don’t be, baby! I’ve got everything under control. Ya know that!” Satoru cuts you off with a joyful tone, to which you sigh.

“I know… just get here safely, yes?” You plead, to which the sorcerer hums in agreement.

“You know I always am, honey.”

──────

When Satoru and tsumiki do arrive, there’s a noticeable difference in your home. Both you and Megumi bolt to the door the moment you hear the keys jingle at the front door. And maybe it’s the way Megumi trips over his tiny feet in the process of running to his sister, or the way they embrace each other the second their eyes meet, or the way Satoru’s face softens the second he sees you— but something in the air definitely changes in that moment. Like your family has grown just a tiny bit more.

You watch with a soft heart as Megumi buries his chest into his sister’s tummy, grubby hands locking onto the fabric of her winter coat. The older girl tears up, but the watery giggle she lets out assures you that it’s out of pure happiness.

You watch as she lifts up the tiny Megumi in her arms and exchange her happiness.

Meanwhile, Satoru also seems to notice the change in energy just like you. Wrapping his arms around your middle, the male leans down and presses a kiss to the apple of your cheek.

You smile, spinning in his arms so that he’s face to face with you.

“Hi, beautiful,” He grins, sliding his blindfold up so that it’s resting about his forehead, snug on his hairline and pushing his hair up in a way that just makes him look so damn handsome. “Missed me?”

“You know I did.” You smile, sighing and dropping your head against his chest as you watch the siblings from the corner of your eye. You watch as Megumi begins tugging her, saying something about showing her around and having her own room.

To Tsumiki, this is the most she’s ever seen Megumi be so… energetic. Seeing her little brother be so full of life is probably one of the best things to have happened to her in all her short years.

She doesn’t even have the time to be hesitant about the whole situation. And she doesn’t feel the need to be. Not when she can also feel the energy within the small apartment of Satoru Gojo and his girlfriend.

──────

Taglist;;

@anything4yoongi @alpha-mommy69 @s4ikooo1 @moonchhu @kianatrg @emryb @inlove-maze @awfullyinlove @reixtsu @staringatvivienne @mediocre-writing

#𓆩 gumi’s home !! 𓆪 #jutusu kaisen x reader #gojo x reader fluff #gojo satoru x reader #satoru gojo x reader #jjk x fem!reader #jjk x reader fluff #jujutsu kaisen x fem!reader #gojo x reader #satoru x reader #megumi fluff #jujutsu kaisen x reader fluff #jujutsu kaisen x reader

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trstalks · 3 days ago

Note

I think about your vampire au moonwater on the regular, I'm OBSESSED

You are in luck I have ALSO been thinking about them a lot

They first met at the bookstore Remus works at because Regulus buys new books whenever he’s stressed out (it’s a bad habit,) so the first the time he walks in the bookstore he’s in a pretty awful mood (probably something to do with the black family) Remus welcomes him into the store, and is immediately struck by how pretty he is. He also notices that he seems to be upset, so when Regulus comes up to the register he talks to him and tries to cheer him up with stupid literature jokes. (it works)

Regulus didn’t look up when Remus greeted him, probably just sort of gave a quiet ‘good morning’ in response, but when he went up to the register to pay he was literally awestruck at this awkward and lanky and BEAUTIFUL boy. Remus is definitely wearing an old grandpa sweater and is disheveled looking but Regulus is into that.

They’re both immediately attracted to each other. Remus assumes that this very pretty and obviously rich man would never go for him (he’s a mess) so he doesn’t go to make a move. Regulus on the other hand is absolutely enamoured with Remus and keeps coming back. They get to know each other over their love of literature and Remus’ bad jokes. Regulus knows that he’s hot, and he recognizes that Remus blushes a lot around him, so he does end up asking him out after a couple weeks of this.

Remus comes out as trans to Regulus in a very premeditated and not at all casual way that he presents as very nonchalant. He worries about it for weeks because he really likes Regulus- but he hates going through the whole “coming out to a potential partner thing.” They often recommend books for one another, so one day when Regulus comes to visit him in the store he picks up a book on trans experiences and very casually is like yeah this helped me a lot when I was questioning my gender before I transitioned *side eye*. Regulus doesn’t even blink, he’s like “wow that sounds interesting- I’ll definitely have to give it a read.”

Remus was scared that this would change their dynamic, but Regulus is like “so about our next date-” HELP

Regulus is definitely having his own struggles with coming out as a vampire, and they’ve been going out for a couple months, so he knows he needs to do it soon because they’re getting pretty serious. He went to Sirius for advice and then promptly remembered why he doesn’t do that (Sirius tells him that he came out to James by watching twilight with him to gauge his reaction and then asking “lowkey what if that was me”)

Regulus ends up texting Remus like "We need to talk" which has Remus freaking the fuck out for an entire day until after his shift is over. Regulus picks him up and they go to a park close to Remus' apartment because Regulus wants him to be able to escape if he feels unsafe (considerate king?)

Regulus starts rambling and during the beginning Remus isn't sure if he's about to break up with him or propose or admit to cheating on him because he keeps saying things like "you know I really care about you but there's something you don't know about me-" "I want to spend the rest of my life with you if you'll let me." "It's okay if you want nothing to do with me after this-"

Remus eventually has to be like "spit it out PLEASE" and Regulus DOES. just comes out with it.

Remus is now freaking out for OTHER reasons because if you'll remember- he reads A LOT of vampire smut. it's like his favorite trope.

Anyway Remus accepts him obviously and they go to Remus' house afterwards to make out on his couch, and that's when Regulus finds one of Remus' smut books. Y'all know what happens next (they fuck nasty style about it and Regulus feeds into Remus vampire kink) (they have a healthy discussion about it before Regulus agrees to feed on him) (of course they do)

Anyway now I'm feeling inspired to actually write this fic HELP (just another excuse to write about Remus in lingerie tbh)

#moonwater #romantic moonwater #moonseeker #romantic moonseeker #remus lupin #regulus x remus #regulus black #trans remus lupin #vampire regulus #vampire moonwater au

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befuddledcinnamonroll · 19 hours ago

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Ok, finally have some time carved out to sit and luxuriate in my FaifaWine story! Bring on the sweetness.

Honestly, I feel like their relationship is such a good representation of what a healthy dynamic can look like. Not just for romantic but platonic as well. Mutual support and encouragement is a beautiful thing.

We love a smitten man.

Ha, Wine doing the little neck turn for Fai was so cute. They're already so physically comfortable.

God these two are so damn photogenic.

So these pictures are just straight up engagement photos, yes? Everyone worrying about Faifa's game, when that man is 100% the first who's going to be married.

I don't know if "this will hurt me but it's too delicious not to drink" is the product placement they think it is.

Uggh, lady. There are family relationships where you can tease and joke about each other being a pain, but the fact that she is completely oblivious to the fact that she does not have that relationship with Fai is so aggravating. And once again, his face was so clear!

But Wine won't let it stand, and we love him for it.

Junior's acting here... he's so not used to anyone speaking up for how amazing he is. My poor baby.

So she apologizes, then immediately blames the dad. Shitty apology 101.

It is so infuriating, because he is literally telling her exactly what's wrong, and she's not paying any attention.

I love their hugs so much!

You can see how much Wine is Fai's safe space now. How he hugged his mom, vs how he hugs Wine.

And Wine with the healthy question, of thinking about how to move past it! He's so good for Fai.

Wa and Klao doing some growing up! I do wish we had seen a bit more of their journey, but that's just my general constant need for more AouBoom.

Uh, Toey can mind her own damn business. First outing Wine to his friend without permission, then trying to set him up with her brother without even asking first? Boooooo.

Ok, the "make it loud" is where Wine and my introvertedness severely differentiates, lol. That is my idea of torture.

Not "big boy" lolol.

Arm breaking out the sex kitten call sign for his pouty baby is rather perfect.

Yotha! Seriously. I know this is your version of supportive, but your brother is so, so much stronger than you give him credit for.

And of course Wine can immediately pick up on the different vibes Faifa has today.

Perfect descriptor for our boys.

Ugh, who invited Toey?

But also, props to them casting Ohm as Tor, which is 100 times better when you remember he's going to be with Junior and Wine in My Romance Scammer.

Oh Fai, baby, don't let your anxiety get to you. You are what he wants!

On one hand, I like that the friends want to be supportive, on the other, Wine is literally just walking with a dude. Although I guess Fai's phone being off is a rarity. Ok, I'll give them a pass.

Damn, he really is a big boy, isn't he.

Um, where was I?

Oh god, the way Faifa is so sure he's not going to come first.

Tor seems like a genuinely nice dude, he should get a meet cute with someone played by Fluke on campus. (The Fluke who's going to be his partner, not the Fluke who was his partner. Good lord, these names).

I rave about Junior a lot, but I should also mention Mark has been doing such a good job. He is someone who you can see grow in each performance, and I love that for him.

This scene, this scene, y'all.

Faifa being open and honest about his fears. Wine being honest about how Faifa has always been first for him, and his only goal. Faifa's calmness when he realizes that he wasn't chasing a love that he would inevitably lose, but that he's always had it from the beginning. The mutual love and reassurance and comfort and complete and utter safety in one another's arms. I'M NOT CRYING YOU'RE CRYING.

Omg, do not tell me those idiots literally chased Wine all over campus without him noticing. I am dying.

Ok, not to be a downer, but Yotha, this would have been a perfect supportive moment for you to bring the flowers. Just sayin'.

Yeah, these two are definitely gonna be the first married.

#perfect 10 liners

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aquaholicsanonymousworld · 6 hours ago

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Saxon x girlfriend!reader where she was planning on breaking up with him but then he invited her on his family trip and when he finds out he literally has a mental breakdown and goes to his sister for advice but even she doesn’t feel bad and points out how much of a shitty boyfriend he is to reader because of cheating and flirting with other girls. Like Saxon would be one of those “I don’t know why she broke up with me I didn’t see it coming” type of guys

Didn’t See It Coming Pairing: Saxon Ratliff x Girlfriend!Reader

You were going to break up with him.

You’d rehearsed it in your head a hundred different ways—cool, calm, detached. You’d say it in that breezy tone you used when you didn’t want to cry in front of someone. It was supposed to happen over brunch, the two of you sitting across from each other at that overpriced café where he barely listened when you spoke anyway.

But then Saxon invited you to Thailand.

“With my family,” he said with that boyish smile. “Private villa, insane food, full spa access—you need this.”

And just like that, the words caught in your throat.

Not because you changed your mind. But because it would’ve been too awkward, too dramatic to say no. Too real.

So you said yes.

And flew across the world with a man you were planning to leave.

It was a slow build. A pattern. A collection of moments he probably never even remembered—lingering eyes on other girls, flirty comments at parties, the way he always made you feel like you were just another accessory in his perfectly curated life.

He cheated, too. You didn’t need receipts—you felt it. In the way he changed, in the late-night texts, the way he’d overcompensate afterward with gifts and compliments like you should just be grateful he came back to you.

Saxon was the kind of guy who would say, “But we weren’t even exclusive then,” six months into the relationship.

So yeah, you were done.

Just not yet.

He found out two days into the trip.

He was lurking by the balcony and overheard you on the phone with Piper, saying it straight: “I was going to break up with him after this. I just didn’t want to cause a scene with his family here.”

The glass in his hand slipped.

Shattered.

So did he.

You didn’t know about the scene he made in the hallway after. Not at first. Didn’t hear the way he banged on Victoria’s door like a toddler throwing a tantrum, face flushed, lip trembling with a kind of disbelief that was almost comedic.

“I don’t get it,” he said, voice cracking. “I don’t get why she would—like, what the fuck did I do that was so bad?”

Victoria stared at him. No sympathy in her eyes. Just exhaustion.

“Oh my god,” she muttered, stepping aside and letting him in, “you are such a cliché.”

“What is that supposed to mean?”

“It means,” she snapped, turning to face him, “that you’re every guy who cheats, flirts with other girls, takes his girlfriend for granted, and then stands there like an idiot when she leaves, going, ‘I didn’t see it coming.’”

Saxon’s mouth opened, stunned. “I didn’t cheat—”

“Yes, you did,” Victoria cut in flatly. “You just lied to yourself about what counts.”

Saxon sank onto the edge of the bed, completely unraveling. “But I love her.”

Victoria rolled her eyes. “You love having her. You don’t know how to love her.”

Silence.

She sighed, sitting beside him. “You want her back? Don’t cry to me. Grow up. Take a good hard look at yourself. And next time, don’t wait until she’s already halfway gone to figure it out.”

You spent the rest of the night in silence, wine in hand, watching the stars over the ocean.

You didn’t cry. You didn’t yell. You didn’t even bring it up because Saxon was already losing you. And this time, he couldn’t even pretend he didn’t know why.

#saxon ratliff #saxon ratliff x reader #saxon ratliff imagine #saxon ratliff fanfic #the white lotus #the white lotus fanfic

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canary-prince · 16 hours ago

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Mark S: *sitting at his work station, neck COVERED in prominent hickies* It's not like I PLANNED it, Dylan! We were arguing, he shoved me, I shoved him, we fell over and then we--

Irving B: Shared vessels?

Dylan G: Boned???

Helly: How do you have love bites if this happened in your head?

Mark S: I DON'T KNOW. Thank you for bothering to be concerned about that, my outie just WAVED it off! Said something about 'psycho somatic symptoms' and then asked if I was going to get "clingy" and "weird".

Dylan G: But you for definite boned? You for sure-as-shit banged? You bow-chica-wow-wowed beyond a reasonable doubt?

Helly: He asked you WHAT?

Irving B: He's a cad, Mark, you shouldn't see him anymore.

Mark S: I don't think I have much of a choice there, seeing as we share as a skeleton and a brain.

Dylan G: You also share a penis, dude, but you fucking weirdos got creative.

Mark S: Oh god, I am a weirdo, aren't I?!

Helly: Ms. Casey says wanting to fuck your outie is normal!

Irving B: You asked her this when? And why?

Dylan G: Don't get me wrong, I'd take my outie to Screw City any time he had a weekend free, but my outie is a kick ass father and an adventurous jack of all trades. He's also rougishly handsome and shows a lot of capability of growth. Sharing vessels with him would be a fucking honor. YOUR outie on the other hand--

Irving B: Is a cad.

Dylan G: A cad, Mark! A fuck-mothering cad, and you deserve better!

Helly: I asked Ms. Casey that question for totally normal reasons. Also, Irv, can you get me ketamine?

Irving B: Give me two hours. By the way, my outie is a gentlemen, and would have taken me to dinner and a film, or perhaps some sort of musical concert, and established trust and an emotional connection first.

Dylan G: JESUS CHRIST, dude.

Helly: I think my outie is into weird shit. But she's not upfront with it. No, you gotta coax it out of her.

Mark S: Irv, he can't date me--

Dylan G: It's in your head bro, make that jerk take you to fucking Paris. My outie, fyi, would probably take me to the rings of Jupiter and we save some villagers from evil alien fascists or something, as a team, to bond, cuz I agree with Irving! Make him work before you put out!

Helly: She clearly wants to fuck me. Why does she keep putting me in heels? Cuz she knows my ass is the eighth wonder of the world, that's why!

Mark S: LOOK. I already know what I'm gonna do. I'm going to drive him completely insane.

Irving B: Oh, no.

Dylan G: I know that look. Remember the ice cream social? That dickhead in the mail mines spilled coffee on Petey and acted all shitty about it.

Irving B: Target acquired. We've lost him, kids.

Mark S: I can see him any time I want now! Trust me, by the end of this quarter, he's gonna be the one getting "clingy" and "weird"!

Helly: Okay so the code detectors block text but what about like, polaroids? Can we send our outies nudes?

Mark S: *suddenly paying attention again* CAN WE?

Dylan G: I'm gonna get back to work. Too weird, tapping out.

Irving B: *grabbing an honest to god harpoon from the closet* Helly, I'm off to the pharmaceutical silo. If I do not return by the afternoon stretch break, alert Ms Huang that I am in need an extraction.

Helly: Excuse me?

Dylan G: *from behind his screen* GREAT now Irv's off to the fucking silo, congratulations, Mark! God, why did Petey dying make you a man-slut? Your dick is complicating shit left right and center!

I want to write a Severance crack fic where The Marks figure out how to converse in real time through like, drugs and meditation, and they have hate sex, and the other Innies are like "Mark should NOT be cool enough to have psychic hate sex with his outie before the rest of us even think of that. This won't stand."

Que Helly awkwardly trying to seduce Helena while Helena is yelling at her about doing ketamine in their shared body.

#severance #severance shitposting #severance crack #mark scout #hellyna #dylan g #irving bailiff #the monster speaks

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aeolianblues · 7 months ago

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was kinda thinking about this when I saw Renee Rapp live recently-- I didn't know her visual vibe, I'd heard a few songs here and there but I hadn't really *seen* her, and her attire at Osheaga was really casual, a jersey (baseball/basketball?) and slacks. And that was so amazing! I couldn't help thinking, the work Billie Eilish has done for how women in pop music are allowed to dress is incredible. Seeing her up there all comfortable you just know that Billie walked in her oversized tops so that Renee in her slacks could run; Billie walked through all the critcisms about how she dressed slobbily and having to assert that she didn't owe anyone a display of skin, so that Renee could be comfortable and unquestioned running up and down the catwalk in front of 10,000 people. How iconic.

And I don't think we even realised at the time how much something as simple as letting Billie dress the way she as a (then-) 17-year-old teenager dressed, could end up meaning for a future generation of women in music.

Obviously there is still way to go, there were weirdos complaining about how 'plain' Dua Lipa's Glastonbury outfit was this year (in 2024!!), l have to ask, are you at Paris Fashion Week?? She is the musical HEADLINER of an entire day of music at one of the biggest music festivals in the world, and you can't grant her the space to exist as an artist, you have to moan about her dress not being excitingly revealing enough. There's work to do, it's still dismal out there. But the space Billie Eilish has created for a most ordinarily-dressed woman popstar is still heartening.

#music #rambling away; I'll log off #man. I remember how on the other hand when I was going to my first ever gig my guitar teacher said to me #notice how plainly he's dressed? No frills. His music speaks for himself.#(The musician in question was Slash and apart from his very recognisable hat and sunglasses; he was wearing a plain white t-shirt with a #minnie mouse graphic print in the centre. I think sometimes about how not even women in rock music are afforded that.#Like this is a thing across genres #With the exception of Franz Ferdinand for whom Alex has actually said in interviews that they treated FF gigs as nights out #and so dressed like they'd be dressed for a club night out--#most other guy bands are like *picked a tee off the floor*#whereas the girls in bands I've seen-- even literally just local musicians-- the girls in our local rock bands feel compelled to #dress like it's graduation day #Like we had this really cool local band-- singer's a girl in second year of uni #keeping up with the fact that they were playing like RHCP and Muse covers on stage; fast stuff--#she was up there in a delicate dress and heels and stomping across stage n all #and the rest of her band; dudes; were quite comfortable in their t-shirts #like of course she made a choice herself and was more than capable of stomping in heels--I mean I've seen Phoebe from Lambrini Girls #JUMP OFF a 5-ft platform stage while wearing 3-inch block heels. And in a party dress!#But then again Lambrini Girls genuinely are freaks of nature and I envy anyone who's going to see them open for Amyl & the Sniffers rn #bc that's an EXPLOSIVE combo. Nonetheless. I was saying.#Part of it certainly comes from a normalisation of just superhuman strength; balance + praying there's no malfunction with your skirt #which DOES happen at rock shows more frequently than you'd imagine. It's just if you're in a good crowd they'll pretend they saw nothing #but it's certainly more practical to gig in sneakers and trousers lol. From experience!#billie eilish #renee rapp #women in music #pop music #dua lipa #Also like Billies doing it for the pop lesbians #lesbian

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scattered-winter · 9 months ago

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every day i kick a rock and bash my head into the wall because i'll never get to go on a big space adventure and become tightly close-knit with my new found family up there <//3

#re lrb..........#i mean realistically if i was in the voltron/quintenary stars universe chances are i would probably NOT be one of the people #going on the space adventure.#i'd be roped into the plot when the aliens invade and earth almost gets destroyed. spoilers for arc 2 btw sorry #but man. child soldierism aside i wish that were me so so so bad #sadly kicks a rock when will EYE have a deep and mystical connection with a giant ancient cat :(#its not even that i want to interact with the main cast bc i dont really i just. wanna be in their position man #i think one of the reasons why voltron grabbed me so hard (among MANY) is how badly i wanted to do what the main characters did #i remember when i was first watching it while it was coming out i would CONSISTENTLY daydream about being launched into space #with a handful of other people and having to fight a war and grow up far away from home and all the suffocating stuff that came with it #and then coming back years later already solidly knowing who i am and being confident in that #so i'd actually be brave enough to be unapologetic about it. and i'd be found family with the people i went to space with also #that parts important #idk man just. i dont like saying i was abused when i was younger because i really dont think it was like that and it isnt even close to #what how people who have really been abused have had to go through #but sometimes i really do wonder. like now that im (mostly) out and able to review everything with an outside perspective #not even getting into the cult survivorism stuff this is JUST family dynamics im talking about here #bc that shit is a whole other can of worms #i think my parents were genuinely doing the best they could with the cards they were dealt but. jesus christ.#i would have given ANYTHING to be able to run away from all that. and throw magic cats into the equation? brother im GONE #anyway this tags ramble has derailed in a MAJOR way. tldr i wanted to be a paladin sooooo fuckign bad bro #like it actually makes me SICK how much i want a lion. red you are my forever girl even if only in my heart <///3 #i still do want to do all that out of principle but its not as desperate now i just really love space and really want a big kitty friend #winter speaks

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beef-brisket · 22 hours ago

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((I mean, it's only fair- I'll try and keep my 'eh's' to a minimum 😝

Not Alastor- man's a MENACE 😂

Great, now you're making me picture Alastor with a hockey player physique 😝😫))

Angel: You really know a lot about this shit, huh? I remember when we were in college, you said you hated sports~.

Lucifer: And I remember when you said you'd never love again after a breakup, but here we are.

Angel: Snarky bitch.

The game went on without any more fights, much to Angel and Lucifer's disappointment, but it was when they were leaving that things got interesting.

They stayed behind to get some extra merch, so the carpark was pretty empty, at least there wouldn't be much traffic.

Angel: I tell ya, babe. The merch guy was hitting on me.

Lucifer rolled his eges: You say that about everyone.

The two men jumped when they heard a bang from around the corner of the stadium. With a mixture of curiosity and concern, they poked their head around the corner.

Alastor: I told you not to put your damn hands on me again!

Adam laughed: I didn't, I fucked your face with my helmet, bitch.

Alastor: Fucking filth. Listen here, you bastard, one more move like that, and I'll fucking wreck you, understand?

Adam: Mm, don't threaten me with a good time~. How about, you go fuck yourself, hm? I'll watch~.

The darker man pushed Adam into the wall, growling something only the other player could hear before storming away.

Adam stood there for a moment before pulling out and lighting a cigarette. Lucifer dared to think that he looked shaken, but then again, he did just get threatened.

Angel: Oh fuck. There he is- the original hunk, himself.

Lucifer raised an eyebrow at Angel: Do you hear yourself? Ever?

Angel: Uh, duh. I love hearing myself... so? What are you waiting for?! Your crush is over there- hurt, scared, alone, venerable~. Go be his shoulder to cry on! Or his cock to bounce on, which ever~.

Lucifer blushed madly: Y-You- shut up! Adam is- classy, he wouldn't... do THAT on the first day of meeting someone.

Angel: Oh, babe. I know a slut when I see one~.

Ice hockey palyer!Adam meeting fan!Lucifer for the first time when he's smashing someone I to the glass in front of him.

Adam winks at him, btw.

AHHHH YES PLEASE!!!

Lucifer would bring swooning and on cloud nine, his favourite hockey player winked at him!

Angel: Awwww cute! He likes you.

Luicfer: It was just for a second…… but these front row seats were worth it oh my god.~

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therealbeachfox · 1 year ago

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Twenty years ago, February 15th, 2004, I got married for the first time.

It was twenty years earlier than I ever expected to.

To celebrate/comemorate the date, I'm sitting down to write out everything I remember as I remember it. No checking all the pictures I took or all the times I've written about this before. I'm not going to turn to my husband (of twenty years, how the f'ing hell) to remember a detail for me.

This is not a 100% accurate recounting of that first wild weekend in San Francisco. But it -is- a 100% accurate recounting of how I remember it today, twenty years after the fact.

Join me below, if you would.

2004 was an election year, and much like conservatives are whipping up anti-trans hysteria and anti-trans bills and propositions to drive out the vote today, in 2004 it was all anti-gay stuff. Specifically, preventing the evil scourge of same-sex marriage from destroying everything good and decent in the world.

Enter Gavin Newstrom. At the time, he was the newly elected mayor of San Francisco. Despite living next door to the city all my life, I hadn’t even heard of the man until Valentines Day 2004 when he announced that gay marriage was legal in San Francisco and started marrying people at city hall.

It was a political stunt. It was very obviously a political stunt. That shit was illegal, after all. But it was a very sweet political stunt. I still remember the front page photo of two ancient women hugging each other forehead to forehead and crying happy tears.

But it was only going to last for as long as it took for the California legal system to come in and make them knock it off.

The next day, we’re on the phone with an acquaintance, and she casually mentions that she’s surprised the two of us aren’t up at San Francisco getting married with everyone else.

“Everyone else?” Goes I, “I thought they would’ve shut that down already?”

“Oh no!” goes she, “The courts aren’t open until Tuesday. Presidents Day on Monday and all. They’re doing them all weekend long!”

We didn’t know because social media wasn’t a thing yet. I only knew as much about it as I’d read on CNN, and most of the blogs I was following were more focused on what bullshit President George W Bush was up to that day.

"Well shit", me and my man go, "do you wanna?" I mean, it’s a political stunt, it wont really mean anything, but we’re not going to get another chance like this for at least 20 years. Why not?

The next day, Sunday, we get up early. We drive north to the southern-most BART station. We load onto Bay Area Rapid Transit, and rattle back and forth all the way to the San Francisco City Hall stop.

We had slightly miscalculated.

Apparently, demand for marriages was far outstripping the staff they had on hand to process them. Who knew. Everyone who’d gotten turned away Saturday had been given tickets with times to show up Sunday to get their marriages done. My babe and I, we could either wait to see if there was a space that opened up, or come back the next day, Monday.

“Isn’t City Hall closed on Monday?” I asked. “It’s a holiday”

“Oh sure,” they reply, “but people are allowed to volunteer their time to come in and work on stuff anyways. And we have a lot of people who want to volunteer their time to have the marriage licensing offices open tomorrow.”

“Oh cool,” we go, “Backup.”

“Make sure you’re here if you do,” they say, “because the California Supreme Court is back in session Tuesday, and will be reviewing the motion that got filed to shut us down.”

And all this shit is super not-legal, so they’ll totally be shutting us down goes unsaid.

00000

We don’t get in Saturday. We wind up hanging out most of the day, though.

It’s… incredible. I can say, without hyperbole, that I have never experienced so much concentrated joy and happiness and celebration of others’ joy and happiness in all my life before or since. My face literally ached from grinning. Every other minute, a new couple was coming out of City Hall, waving their paperwork to the crowd and cheering and leaping and skipping. Two glorious Latina women in full Mariachi band outfits came out, one in the arms of another. A pair of Jewish boys with their families and Rabbi. One couple managed to get a Just Married convertible arranged complete with tin-cans tied to the bumper to drive off in. More than once I was giving some rice to throw at whoever was coming out next.

At some point in the mid-afternoon, there was a sudden wave of extra cheering from the several hundred of us gathered at the steps, even though no one was coming out. There was a group going up the steps to head inside, with some generic black-haired shiny guy at the front. My not-yet-husband nudged me, “That’s Newsom.” He said, because he knew I was hopeless about matching names and people.

Ooooooh, I go. That explains it. Then I joined in the cheers. He waved and ducked inside.

So dusk is starting to fall. It’s February, so it’s only six or so, but it’s getting dark.

“Should we just try getting in line for tomorrow -now-?” we ask.

“Yeah, I’m afraid that’s not going to be possible.” One of the volunteers tells us. “We’re not allowed to have people hang out overnight like this unless there are facilities for them and security. We’d need Porta-Poties for a thousand people and police patrols and the whole lot, and no one had time to get all that organized. Your best bet is to get home, sleep, and then catch the first BART train up at 5am and keep your fingers crossed.

Monday is the last day to do this, after all.

00000

So we go home. We crash out early. We wake up at 4:00. We drive an hour to hit the BART station. We get the first train up. We arrive at City Hall at 6:30AM.

The line stretches around the entirety of San Francisco City Hall. You could toss a can of Coke from the end of the line to the people who’re up to be first through the doors and not have to worry about cracking it open after.

“Uh.” We go. “What the fuck is -this-?”

So.

Remember why they weren’t going to be able to have people hang out overnight?

Turns out, enough SF cops were willing to volunteer unpaid time to do patrols to cover security. And some anonymous person delivered over a dozen Porta-Poties that’d gotten dropped off around 8 the night before.

It’s 6:30 am, there are almost a thousand people in front of us in line to get this literal once in a lifetime marriage, the last chance we expect to have for at least 15 more years (it was 2004, gay rights were getting shoved back on every front. It was not looking good. We were just happy we lived in California were we at least weren’t likely to loose job protections any time soon.).

Then it starts to rain.

We had not dressed for rain.

00000

Here is how the next six hours go.

We’re in line. Once the doors open at 7am, it will creep forward at a slow crawl. It’s around 7 when someone shows up with garbage bags for everyone. Cut holes for the head and arms and you’ve got a makeshift raincoat! So you’ve got hundreds of gays and lesbians decked out in the nicest shit they could get on short notice wearing trashbags over it.

Everyone is so happy.

Everyone is so nervous/scared/frantic that we wont be able to get through the doors before they close for the day.

People online start making delivery orders.

Coffee and bagels are ordered in bulk and delivered to City Hall for whoever needs it. We get pizza. We get roses. Random people come by who just want to give hugs to people in line because they’re just so happy for us. The tour busses make detours to go past the lines. Chinese tourists lean out with their cameras and shout GOOD LUCK while car horns honk.

A single sad man holding a Bible tries to talk people out of doing this, tells us all we’re sinning and to please don’t. He gives up after an hour. A nun replaces him with a small sign about how this is against God’s will. She leaves after it disintegrates in the rain.

The day before, when it was sunny, there had been a lot of protestors. Including a large Muslim group with their signs about how “Not even DOGS do such things!” Which… Yes they do.

A lot of snide words are said (by me) about how the fact that we’re willing to come out in the rain to do this while they’re not willing to come out in the rain to protest it proves who actually gives an actual shit about the topic.

Time passes. I measure it based on which side of City Hall we’re on. The doors face East. We start on Northside. Coffee and trashbags are delivered when we’re on the North Side. Pizza first starts showing up when we’re on Westside, which is also where I see Bible Man and Nun. Roses are delivered on Southside. And so forth.

00000

We have Line Neighbors.

Ahead of us are a gay couple a decade or two older than us. They’ve been together for eight years. The older one is a school teacher. He has his coat collar up and turns away from any news cameras that come near while we reposition ourselves between the lenses and him. He’s worried about the parents of one of his students seeing him on the news and getting him fired. The younger one will step away to get interviewed on his own later on. They drove down for the weekend once they heard what was going on. They’d started around the same time we did, coming from the Northeast, and are parked in a nearby garage.

The most perky energetic joyful woman I’ve ever met shows up right after we turned the corner to Southside to tackle the younger of the two into a hug. She’s their local friend who’d just gotten their message about what they’re doing and she will NOT be missing this. She is -so- happy for them. Her friends cry on her shoulders at her unconditional joy.

Behind us are a lesbian couple who’d been up in San Francisco to celebrate their 12th anniversary together. “We met here Valentines Day weekend! We live down in San Diego, now, but we like to come up for the weekend because it’s our first love city.”

“Then they announced -this-,” the other one says, “and we can’t leave until we get married. I called work Sunday and told them I calling in sick until Wednesday.”

“I told them why,” her partner says, “I don’t care if they want to give me trouble for it. This is worth it. Fuck them.”

My husband-to-be and I look at each other. We’ve been together for not even two years at this point. Less than two years. Is it right for us to be here? We’re potentially taking a spot from another couple that’d been together longer, who needed it more, who deserved it more.”

“Don’t you fucking dare.” Says the 40-something gay couple in front of us.

“This is as much for you as it is for us!” says the lesbian couple who’ve been together for over a decade behind us.

“You kids are too cute together,” says the gay couple’s friend. “you -have- to. Someday -you’re- going to be the old gay couple that’s been together for years and years, and you deserve to have been married by then.”

We stay in line.

It’s while we’re on the Southside of City Hall, just about to turn the corner to Eastside at long last that we pick up our own companions. A white woman who reminds me an awful lot of my aunt with a four year old black boy riding on her shoulders. “Can we say we’re with you? His uncles are already inside and they’re not letting anyone in who isn’t with a couple right there.” “Of course!” we say.

The kid is so very confused about what all the big deal is, but there’s free pizza and the busses keep driving by and honking, so he’s having a great time.

We pass by a statue of Lincoln with ‘Marriage for All!’ and "Gay Rights are Human Rights!" flags tucked in the crooks of his arms and hanging off his hat.

It’s about noon, noon-thirty when we finally make it through the doors and out of the rain.

They’ve promised that anyone who’s inside when the doors shut will get married. We made it. We’re safe.

We still have a -long- way to go.

00000

They’re trying to fit as many people into City Hall as possible. Partially to get people out of the rain, mostly to get as many people indoors as possible. The line now stretches down into the basement and up side stairs and through hallways I’m not entirely sure the public should ever be given access to. We crawl along slowly but surely.

It’s after we’ve gone through the low-ceiling basement hallways past offices and storage and back up another set of staircases and are going through a back hallway of low-ranked functionary offices that someone comes along handing out the paperwork. “It’s an hour or so until you hit the office, but take the time to fill these out so you don’t have to do it there!”

We spend our time filling out the paperwork against walls, against backs, on stone floors, on books.

We enter one of the public areas, filled with displays and photos of City Hall Demonstrations of years past.

I take pictures of the big black and white photo of the Abraham Lincoln statue holding banners and signs against segregation and for civil rights.

The four year old boy we helped get inside runs past us around this time, chased by a blond haired girl about his own age, both perused by an exhausted looking teenager helplessly begging them to stop running.

Everyone is wet and exhausted and vibrating with anticipation and the building-wide aura of happiness that infuses everything.

The line goes into the marriage office. A dozen people are at the desk, shoulder to shoulder, far more than it was built to have working it at once.

A Sister of Perpetual Indulgence is directing people to city officials the moment they open up. She’s done up in her nun getup with all her makeup on and her beard is fluffed and be-glittered and on point. “Oh, I was here yesterday getting married myself, but today I’m acting as your guide. Number 4 sweeties, and -Congradulatiooooons!-“

The guy behind the counter has been there since six. It’s now 1:30. He’s still giddy with joy. He counts our money. He takes our paperwork, reviews it, stamps it, sends off the parts he needs to, and hands the rest back to us. “Alright, go to the Rotunda, they’ll direct you to someone who’ll do the ceremony. Then, if you want the certificate, they’ll direct you to -that- line.” “Can’t you just mail it to us?” “Normally, yeah, but the moment the courts shut us down, we’re not going to be allowed to.”

We take our paperwork and join the line to the Rotunda.

If you’ve seen James Bond: A View to a Kill, you’ve seen the San Francisco City Hall Rotunda. There are literally a dozen spots set up along the balconies that overlook the open area where marriage officials and witnesses are gathered and are just processing people through as fast as they can.

That’s for the people who didn’t bring their own wedding officials.

There’s a Catholic-adjacent couple there who seem to have brought their entire families -and- the priest on the main steps. They’re doing the whole damn thing. There’s at least one more Rabbi at work, I can’t remember what else. Just that there was a -lot-.

We get directed to the second story, northside. The San Francisco City Treasurer is one of our two witnesses. Our marriage officient is some other elected official I cannot remember for the life of me (and I'm only writing down what I can actively remember, so I can't turn to my husband next to me and ask, but he'll have remembered because that's what he does.)

I have a wilting lily flower tucked into my shirt pocket. My pants have water stains up to the knees. My hair is still wet from the rain, I am blubbering, and I can’t get the ring on my husband’s finger. The picture is a treat, I tell you.

There really isn’t a word for the mix of emotions I had at that time. Complete disbelief that this was reality and was happening. Relief that we’d made it. Awe at how many dozens of people had personally cheered for us along the way and the hundreds to thousands who’d cheered for us generally.

Then we're married.

Then we get in line to get our license.

It’s another hour. This time, the line goes through the higher stories. Then snakes around and goes past the doorway to the mayor’s office.

Mayor Newsom is not in today. And will be having trouble getting into his office on Tuesday because of the absolute barricade of letters and flowers and folded up notes and stuffed animals and City Hall maps with black marked “THANK YOU!”s that have been piled up against it.

We make it to the marriage records office.

I take a picture of my now husband standing in front of a case of the marriage records for 1902-1912. Numerous kids are curled up in corners sleeping. My own memory is spotty. I just know we got the papers, and then we’re done with lines. We get out, we head to the front entrance, and we walk out onto the City Hall steps.

It's almost 3PM.

00000

There are cheers, there’s rice thrown at us, there are hundreds of people celebrating us with unconditional love and joy and I had never before felt the goodness that exists in humanity to such an extent. It’s no longer raining, just a light sprinkle, but there are still no protestors. There’s barely even any news vans.

We make our way through the gauntlet, we get hands shaked, people with signs reading ”Congratulations!” jump up and down for us. We hit the sidewalks, and we begin to limp our way back to the BART station.

I’m at the BART station, we’re waiting for our train back south, and I’m sitting on the ground leaning against a pillar and in danger of falling asleep when a nondescript young man stops in front of me and shuffles his feet nervously. “Hey. I just- I saw you guys, down at City Hall, and I just… I’m so happy for you. I’m so proud of what you could do. I’m- I’m just really glad, glad you could get to do this.”

He shakes my hand, clasps it with both of his and shakes it. I thank him and he smiles and then hurries away as fast as he can without running.

Our train arrives and the trip south passes in a semilucid blur.

We get back to our car and climb in.

It’s 4:30 and we are starving.

There’s a Carls Jr near the station that we stop off at and have our first official meal as a married couple. We sit by the window and watch people walking past and pick out others who are returning from San Francisco. We're all easy to pick out, what with the combination of giddiness and water damage.

We get home about 6-7. We take the dog out for a good long walk after being left alone for two days in a row. We shower. We bundle ourselves up. We bury ourselves in blankets and curl up and just sort of sit adrift in the surrealness of what we’d just done.

We wake up the next day, Tuesday, to read that the California State Supreme Court has rejected the petition to shut down the San Francisco weddings because the paperwork had a misplaced comma that made the meaning of one phrase unclear.

The State Supreme Court would proceed to play similar bureaucratic tricks to drag the process out for nearly a full month before they have nothing left and finally shut down Mayor Newsom’s marriages.

My parents had been out of state at the time at a convention. They were flying into SFO about the same moment we were walking out of City Hall. I apologized to them later for not waiting and my mom all but shook me by the shoulders. “No! No one knew that they’d go on for so long! You did what you needed to do! I’ll just be there for the next one!”

00000

It was just a piece of paper. Legally, it didn’t even hold any weight thirty days later. My philosophy at the time was “marriage really isn’t that important, aside from the legal benefits. It’s just confirming what you already have.”

But maybe it’s just societal weight, or ingrained culture, or something, but it was different after. The way I described it at the time, and I’ve never really come up with a better metaphor is, “It’s like we were both holding onto each other in the middle of the ocean in the middle of a storm. We were keeping each other above water, we were each other’s support. But then we got this piece of paper. And it was like the ground rose up to meet our feet. We were still in an ocean, still in the middle of a storm, but there was a solid foundation beneath our feet. We still supported each other, but there was this other thing that was also keeping our heads above the water.

It was different. It was better. It made things more solid and real.

I am forever grateful for all the forces and all the people who came together to make it possible. It’s been twenty years and we’re still together and still married.

We did a domestic partnership a year later to get the legal paperwork. We’d done a private ceremony with proper rings (not just ones grabbed out of the husband’s collection hours before) before then. And in 2008, we did a legal marriage again.

Rushed. In a hurry. Because there was Proposition 13 to be voted on which would make them all illegal again if it passed.

It did, but we were already married at that point, and they couldn’t negate it that time.

Another few years after that, the Supreme Court finally threw up their hands and said "Fine! It's been legal in places and nothing's caught on fire or been devoured by locusts. It's legal everywhere. Shut up about it!"

And that was that.

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When I was in highschool, in the late 90s, I didn’t expect to see legal gay marriage until I was in my 50s. I just couldn’t see how the American public as it was would ever be okay with it.

I never expected to be getting married within five years. I never expected it to be legal nationwide before I’d barely started by 30s. I never thought I’d be in my 40s and it’d be such a non-issue that the conservative rabble rousers would’ve had to move onto other wedge issues altogether.

I never thought that I could introduce another man as my husband and absolutely no one involved would so much as blink.

I never thought I’d live in this world.

And it’s twenty years later today. I wonder how our line buddies are doing. Those babies who were running around the wide open rooms playing tag will have graduated college by now. The kids whose parents the one line-buddy was worried would see him are probably married too now. Some of them to others of the same gender.

I don’t have some greater message to make with all this. Other then, culture can shift suddenly in ways you can’t predict. For good or ill. Mainly this is just me remembering the craziest fucking 36 hours of my life twenty years after the fact and sharing them with all of you.

The future we’re resigned to doesn’t have to be the one we live in. Society can shift faster than you think. The unimaginable of twenty years ago is the baseline reality of today.

And always remember that the people who want to get married will show up by the thousands in rain that none of those who’re against it will brave.

#gay marriage #gay rights #gay history #gay

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