#now she doesn’t have to come in and pay

[cinnamorollcrybaby]

The way Nanami subtly doms you

Tags: dom!Nanami x fem!Reader, sub!Reader, dom/sub relationship, NO age regression, sub space.

An: yeah idk i feel like nanami’s very subtle with his domming style, but i see shiu kong as full on dom.

• Nanami isn’t the type to flex his dominance over you. He doesn’t have to be rude or degrading to drive the point home. You know exactly when he gives you that look, it means to behave. His hazel eyes cut in your direction, and his eyebrow raises ever so slightly, like he’s amused by your disobedience. However, he doesn’t smile — doesn’t reward bad behavior.

• “Want to say that again?”, “Language.”, “Didn’t I tell you no pouting?” when you’re being a brat and mouthing off. bonus points if he’s pulling his tie away from his neck and slowly wrapping it around his palm.

• It’s simple, but he gives you his hoodies or coats to wear when you’re out and about. He likes seeing his clothes encompassed your body, and he enjoys that everyone will immediately be able to tell just whose you are.

• Speaking of clothes, Nanami’s not the type to tell you when you can and can’t wear something. He’s confident in his abilities to keep you safe, but that doesn’t mean he won’t make suggestions. “Are you sure about the skirt, sweetheart? I don’t want your legs getting cold.”

• He takes great care of you in an inconspicuous manner. He’ll adjust your clothes on you, buttoning up your top or gently fixing your unruly hair. He’ll throw your towel and pajamas (that he picked out for you) in the dryer when you’re in the shower, so they are all warm and cozy for you when you get out.

• Nanami is also the type to set a pretty firm bedtime for you. He knows how much you like to stay up and how ill you get in the mornings if you hadn’t had a minimum of 8 hours of rest. So, he sets you on a pretty strict bedtime schedule and routine. Don’t worry. He’s there every night to cuddle you to sleep.

• Insistent that you hold his hand while you two are out. He knows how distractible you are, and it eases his mind when your palm rests in his.

• The way he talks can throw you straight into a more submissive headspace, and he knows it too. He doesn’t do it often, but when he notices you getting too stressed or burnt out, he’ll immediately start with the dom talk, “My baby needs a break, doesn’t she?” He’ll coo and pull you into his lap, and when you inevitably lean into his touch, “There she is. Did my baby miss me?”

• Nanami sees it as a gentlemanly thing, but it could also be seen as another form of domming. He doesn’t let you touch a single door handle if he’s with you, and you best believe he’s walking on the outside. You’re tucked beside him on the inside of the sidewalk. He’ll also never let you hold a shopping bag. No, he does not care that he’s holding a bunch of Victoria’s Secret and Ulta bags. He pays for everything. If your car needs gas, Nanami fills it up.

• On the off chance that you two are out, and he’s not right beside you, all he has to do is curl his finger and point at the ground in front of him to let you know that he wants you to come to him, and you better do as you’re told.

• The king of giving simple stern instructions. “Look at me.” “Speak up, baby.”, “Come here, now.”, “Give me a kiss.”, “Ask nicely.”

• Nanami will sit on the couch, spread his legs, and pat his knee when he wants you to sit on his lap. He doesn’t even have to give simple instructions for that.

• Even while he does all this, he respects your independence, autonomy, and intelligence. Let’s bffr rn he’s your biggest supporter in everything you do. He’s so in love with you because he knows how smart and hard working you are. He’s so damn lucky that he gets to be the man to pamper you and ease your weary mind. He loves being that safe space for you, so you can just relax, lean on him, and just be you.

[mintmatcha]

I so understand this would be so far off, but I’m imagining reader’s son being 13 and a couple months old, he’s cordial with Shinsou, for his mum, but he’s trying to come to terms with why his mum didn’t stay with his dad. Until monoma doesn’t show up for something and maybe one of his friends is like ‘hey, I’m really sorry your dad is always doing that. It must really suck’

‘My dad always shows up usually, just later. He’s busy.’ And the look of pity from his friend and it just CLICKS

Has to call his mum to pick him up and shinsou picks him up because maybe it’s late at night, and shinsou has always respected that he shouldn’t talk shit about monoma in front of your son, but when your son starts asking about things, about the lies and twisted truths monoma has told, shinsou won’t lie to him. Just gives him yes and no answers.

Monoma doesn’t understand why all of a sudden his son isn’t responding to his messages or answering his phone calls, and there’s no way he’s calling you to reveal to you that he’s no longer the golden father figure in your son’s eyes

I LOVE THIS IDEA AAA

I think, leading up to that, the more your son is angry at monoma, the more he's disrespectful of you. it's displaced, but he just can't bring himself to think that his dad is the problem.

the only time shinso has ever REALLY yelled at him was after school one day. monoma was supposed to come for his weekend, but it's shinso standing at the curb waiting for him.

"Whoa, that's your dad?" a friend asks. oh, he had been bragging all day that his pro hero dad was coming to take him on vacation and now he's face to face with the realization that he's not going anywhere.

"He is not my dad." There's so much angst and anger building up in his gut. you must have done something to piss his real dad off- it's always your fault when he doesn't arrive- "he's just some guy my mom whores around with."

Shinso's jaw flexes so tightly that he can see it from all the way from across the street. He uses his whole name, biting out every syllable with a barely restrained anger. your son trudges across the street with his pack dragging on the ground.

"Say that again." It's been years since he's thought Shinso was scary, but the cold grind of his voice makes him freeze. "Say it right here, to my face."

They both know he can't. He doesn't have the guts. Shinso bends over just a bit, bringing himself face to face.

"You do not have to respect me. You don't even have to like me." Shinso's voice breaks with the sheer volume he's using. your son looks back at his friends, who look equally horrified. "But you will not talk about your mother that way."

The man jabs a finger towards the school bag.

"And pick up your fucking bag." He's never cursed at your son before. "Your mom worked extra shifts to pay for that."

He had begged for this bag, the full leather one. it was expensive. too expensive to ask you for. It came as a holiday present with no name, so he had always assumed his dad was the one who bought it. Monoma is the one with money-- you're just a waitress. The scuffed bottom suddenly feels embarrassing.

Shinso hasn't stopped his ranting. "All she has ever done is loved you. Your whole life! All she's ever done! And I will not let you treat her the way your father treats her, got it?"

Your son doesn't reply.

"I said- did you fucking get that?"

His real dad never yells. No, he just laughs when he says things like that. Your son sniffs and slugs his bag over his shoulder. "Yeah. Whatever."

"And if you ever say that to your mother's face-" he can't finish the sentence. "Get walking."

[luvergirl-866]

something like love

part - 6

pairing - paige bueckers x azzi fudd

word count - 4.7k

c/w - language, tiny bit of angst (this is only the beginning i fear.)

a/n - is it cringe of me to ask for live reactions? bc i want live reactions sb. anyway, sorry ik i said this chap would be long and juicy but i decided to hold off on the juicy part, i needed a lil more plot development! also ty to everyone who sends me asks, even if it’s just things like “when’s the next part😫” i love it sm lol. hope yall like this one!!

The next two days are—at least compared to the first two—almost peaceful. The weather is nice, just warm enough and not too humid, which Azzi’s hair appreciates. She got goddess braids done just before the trip and even in protective styles, her hair gets frizzy at the very notion of moisture.

The peacefulness largely comes from the fact that Paige is avoiding her parents like the plague, instead spending all her time with Azzi and her siblings. The third day they spend almost entirely at the local park, shooting around at the court there under the hot sun. Lauren even reluctantly joins for a few games, and she may be adamant about not wanting to play basketball but the talent for it must be genetic because she’s a natural. And if Paige and Azzi spend the whole ‘competition’ brushing hands and flirting, nobody says anything. (Though Ryan does wrinkle his nose at them a few times.)

The fourth day starts out warm, and so Paige and Azzi sneak the kids out bright and early (Azzi, of course, ends up with the job of waking all three siblings up—not one of them is a morning person whatsoever) and go to an ice cream shop, where they eat their cold, sweet breakfasts on the curb while they chat. Both Ryan and Lauren may have argued that they were too old to be excited about ice cream for breakfast anymore, but they both end up with matching, chocolate-covered grins when they’re done.

The weather turns for the worst before noon, though, and the kids want to go home but Paige insists they go to the arcade instead. When she says she’ll pay for as many games as they want, they’re easily swayed. Of course, Paige and Azzi make a competition out of the day, deciding to keep a tally of all their points so that whoever has the most wins by the end has to buy the whole group prizes.

Azzi gives it a fighting go but Paige plays way more video games than she does so she very nearly beats her—but then, when they’re almost out of game tickets, Azzi pouts at her about the whole situation, and suspiciously, she ends up making an incredible recovery, easily beating Paige at almost every game after that.

Lauren picks a koala plushie, Ryan picks some new shoes, and Azzi gets this shiny plastic tiara.

“You didn’t have to get the cheapest prize,” Paige says as Azzi adjusts the tiara on her head. “I got money.”

“I know,” Azzi replies, smiling at her reflection in the mirror. “But I had to. As the princess.”

Paige gives her that stupid fucking look again—the one Azzi still can’t figure out even though she knows Paige like the back of her hand, which is just driving her crazy—and that look shows up so often Azzi should really just start referring to it as The Look at this point.

But then Paige smiles, previous odd expression gone, and the way she does that,—slips out of it like she doesn’t even realize it was there in the first place—drives Azzi even more crazy than The Look itself.

Now, it is the fifth day. And Azzi reminisces on these past two blissful days to try and distract herself from the fact that Paige and her parents are having a heated argument right in front of her and her scrambled eggs.

“No, Paige,” Amy is saying. “Absolutely not.”

“You can’t do that!” Paige replies, throwing her hands into the air. “I’m an adult, I make my own money, I can do—“

“It’s stupid.”

“It’ll be fun!”

“It won’t, because it’s not happening.” Amy is unpacking a load of groceries, and Dean is lingering in the corner of the kitchen being absolutely useless. That seems to be his brand.

“Yes it will, Mom,” Paige replies, voice lower now but still obviously frustrated. “I wasn’t asking for your permission. I was just seeing if you wanted to come with us. I was tryna be nice!”

“Well it won’t be nice when you crash and we all drown, Paige.”

“Jesus, Mom! I ain’t gonna go around crashing!”

Azzi feels very uncomfortable, wishing she were literally anywhere else, but at the same time this is sort of amusing and she has to hide a smile in a bite of eggs.

This argument is, out of all things, about a boat. Paige wants to rent one and have a lake day, and though she didn’t want to, Azzi convinced her to invite her parents—she figured they’d decline but that they’d be offended if they weren’t at least invited.

She wasn’t really expecting a lecture to come out of it, though. But by the tired look on Paige’s face, she knew exactly what was coming their way.

“You don’t even have a boating license,” Amy continues, placing a new jug of milk and some apples in the fridge. “This is illegal. If you won’t listen to your mother, at least listen to the law.”

That very nearly gets a giggle out of Azzi. She chokes it down.

“This is a private lake, I’on need my license.”

“Well that doesn’t sound shady at all.”

“It’s not, it’s super legit!” Paige makes for her phone in her back pocket. “It has its own website and everything, I looked way into it.”

Amy stares her daughter down for a few seconds, hands on her hips, before she lets out a resigned sigh. “Like you said, Paige, I can’t tell you what to do. You’re an adult, do what you want. But you will not be taking your siblings on that death trap.”

“Wha…” Paige flounders, eyebrows furrowed, and her voice raises again, “that was the whole point of this entire thing!”

“Well, that’s too bad. It’s dangerous.”

“I’ll make them wear life jackets!”

“They’re teenagers,” Dean points out rather unhelpfully, and it’s the first time he’s spoken around her in days but Azzi is already sick of him again. “Neither of them are gonna wear life jackets.”

“I’ll force them, I swear.”

“Paige Madison,” Amy snaps, and Paige may be an independent adult now but she still straightens her back subconsciously at her mother’s warning tone, “no means no. They are my kids.”

“They’re my siblings!” Paige replies—rather boldly, Azzi thinks, because if Azzi were in her place she would’ve given up by now.

But Paige, as most daughters do, knows exactly how far to push her mother to get what she wants—apparent in the way Amy massages her temples with her fingers before saying, “You know what, Paige? Fine.”

Dean is jumping in immediately. “What? No, she can’t take my kids out on a boat.”

“She’s right, Dean,” Amy says, though she looks a little pained to be siding with her daughter for once. “They’re her siblings. She wants to do something fun for them.”

“It’s dangerous!” Dean motions sporadically at where Paige and Azzi are sitting at the island. Azzi’s eggs are gone now and so she has nothing to put her awkward energy into. “Neither of them owns a boat, and they are practically strangers—“

“She is my daughter,” Amy says, and it’s so quiet Azzi almost doesn’t hear it, but she does, and it sends shivers through her. Because there’s something dangerous, something protective in her tone, something only a mother who loves their child could convey. And it sends a flicker of hope through her. “She is my daughter and I trust her with her siblings.”

Dean flounders for something but comes up empty, instead storming off all red-faced like a child. Amy doesn’t look either of them in the eye when she says, “Let me know if you kids need anything today,” before leaving the two best friends alone in the kitchen.

Slowly, Paige turns to look at Azzi, something like disbelief in her expression. “Did that—actually go well?”

“Yeah,” Azzi responds. “I think it did.”

Things may just be looking up.

———————————————

Dean may be an asshole, but it turns out he was right about one thing: Ryan and Lauren will not wear life jackets.

“C’mon, guys, it’s the law,” Paige insists, thrusting a pink life jacket at her sister, who scrunches her nose in disgust.

“No way! That’s so ugly, Paige.”

“The color wont matter when you’re drowning.”

“You sound just like Mom!” Lauren sighs, and Paige’s mouth falls open.

“You did not just say that.”

Lauren gives Paige a smug smile, which amuses Azzi because it’s the same smile Paige gives her whenever she wins an argument. “And I meant it too.”

If Lauren were not much smaller than Paige, she would be tackling her right now, based off the look on her face. But instead she composes herself and turns to Ryan, who is sitting at the front of the speedboat on his phone. He feels his older sister’s gaze and looks up at her, then at the life jacket in her hands. “You’re funny.”

“I’m being so for real.”

“There’s gonna be hot girls in bikinis on the lake,” Ryan replies, as if this is the most obvious thing ever. “No way I’m wearing a life jacket.”

Paige sighs and rubs her temple with her fingers, and Azzi would never say it out loud (for fear of being pushed into the lake) but she does kind of look like her mom in this moment.

When Paige turns on her with a warning look, Azzi startles, wondering if she’s somehow read her mind. But instead, Paige picks up another life jacket and says, “Will you at least wear one?”

Azzi smiles, a little puzzled. “Paige, I don’t need a life jacket. I can swim.” Which is obvious considering she and Paige have spent various lake days at her family’s cabin.

“Yeah, but for my peace of mind, though!” Paige shakes the life jacket in Azzi’s direction.

The truth is, Azzi wouldn’t mind wearing the life jacket. But ever since she put on this bikini—pastel purple in color—Paige has been swallowing thickly and averting her eyes constantly. So Azzi thinks she has other reasons for wanting her to cover up.

And Azzi can’t let her get away with that, can she?

“I don’t need it.” Azzi steps forward and takes the life jacket out of Paige’s grasp, tossing it aside before reaching to trail her hand down Paige’s bicep, squeezing the hard muscle a little bit. “And besides, won’t you save me if I’m drowning?” she asks, smiling coyly.

Paige’s throat bobs, eyes landing respectfully on a spot past Azzi’s shoulder. “Well, that’s not really how that works.”

Azzi blinks, and she knows just how big and brown her eyes are when she looks up at Paige through her lashes. “No? Thought you’ve been in the gym?”

“I have,” Paige says defensively.

“Hm.” Azzi lets her hand trail off Paige’s arm, resting it on Paige’s side before dancing her fingers dangerously over Paige’s exposed abs. “You wanna prove that to me, baby?”

Paige’s eyes widen, and Azzi loves the way she can not only see but feel her stomach tense under her fingers. But the moment is broken by a gagging sound nearby.

Lauren—who has sat beside her brother and pulled out her own phone—is now looking at them with disgust. “You guys are so gross.”

“You shouldn’t be making sexual innuendos in front of Lauren,” Ryan adds on, though his eyes don’t leave his screen.

“Yeah!” Lauren agrees, then furrows her eyebrows and starts tapping at her phone. Azzi guesses she’s probably searching what sexual innuendo means.

“Hey, yo, don’t blame me,” Paige says, putting her hands up and taking two big steps away from Azzi. “She started it.”

“Azzi’s a freak,” Ryan says.

“Whoa, chill!”

“Hey, that’s actually offensive,” Lauren says. She has picked up a habit of defending Azzi with her life these last few days they’ve spent together, and Azzi has decided she would do the same. “That’s like calling her a monster or something.”

Ryan smirks, finally looking up at them. “I didn’t mean that kinda freak.”

“Okayyy!” Paige jumps in before Lauren can do any more Googling. “Let’s get this show on the road. Imma go untie us real quick, then we’ll head out.”

For the first time, nerves bubble in Azzi’s tummy. “Paige, you sure you’ll be able to drive this thing?”

Paige looks almost offended at the question. “Yeah, duh.”

“It’s just, you’ve never driven a speed boat before…”

“Trust me, mama,” Paige says, nodding cockily to herself. “I got driving skills like you’ve never seen.”

Fifteen minutes later, Azzi realizes Paige was telling the truth. She has certainly never seen these driving skills before.

Paige is an—erratic driver, to put it mildly. This lake is private, huge, and though there are plenty of other boaters out Paige drives as if they’re the only ones on the water. At one point, she gets to such a high speed that even Ryan grasps onto Azzi a little bit.

When Paige very nearly runs into a cruising party boat, Azzi finally gets up from her place between the kids and marches over to Paige, who glances up at her with a sheepish smile. “Whoops.”

“Lemme drive,” Azzi demands, beckoning for Paige to get up.

“No!” Paige says stubbornly. “I’m doin’ good!”

“I thought I was going to die!” Lauren pipes up angrily.

Azzi motions to her. “See? You’re scaring your brother and sister.”

“Whoa, who said I was scared?” Ryan says.

Azzi decides against bringing up the fact that he kept clinging to her arm. “This is scary, I wanna drive.”

“But babeee,” Paige groans, bringing the boat to a stop so she can properly argue, “you drive like a grandma.”

“I drive like a sane person, is what I think you mean to say.”

“It’ll be boring.”

“Paige.”

Paige stares her down for a moment before sighing like a stubborn little kid. “Fine. You can drive.”

Azzi nods, pleased, and shoves at Paige’s shoulder when she doesn’t move. “Get up.”

A slow smile creeps over Paige’s face and Azzi doesn’t like the look of that at all. “I gotta show you the ropes.”

“I don’t need you to teach me how to drive this thing,” Azzi says as if it’s obvious, because really, it is. The thought of Paige trying to teach anyone her…unique ways is downright scary. “I got it.”

“Nah, I think you’ll need some help.”

“P, for real, stop being difficult and move.”

“I’m not about to—“

“Can we go?” Lauren says loudly, getting both girls’ attention.

“Yeah, I’m getting hot as hell just sitting here,” Ryan agrees.

“I wanna get to that diving cliff Paige was talking about!”

Before Azzi can turn back to Paige to continue arguing with her, Paige has her hands on her hips and is pulling her firmly into her lap. Azzi squeaks, grabbing onto the wheel for leverage.

“Paige!” she exclaims, turning to glare at the smug-looking girl underneath her.

“You heard them,” Paige says simply, shrugging her shoulders as if her hands are tied. “Let’s go.”

“I don’t—“ Azzi starts to argue once again, but then Lauren is sighing dramatically in that teenage-girl way of her’s and saying, “Seriously, come on!”

So, almost in a daze, Azzi turns back to the front and moves her hand to the shift, getting the boat moving slowly again. She tries desperately to ignore it when Paige leans up close to her ear and murmurs, “Atta girl,” but she can’t help the goosebumps that erupt over her neck and Paige must spot them because she chuckles lightly before leaning back, letting Azzi do her thing.

Trying to shake off the feeling of Paige’s hot breath fanning over her skin, Azzi amps up the speed a little bit, determined to show Paige that she can be fun and safe, as promised.

After a few minutes of skimming over the water, Azzi calls over the wind, “Thought you were gonna ‘show me the ropes’?”

“Looks like you got it,” Paige says, sitting straight so she’s pressed up against Azzi’s back again, and her hands find their place on Azzi’s waist.

“Why’d you make me sit on your lap, then, P?” Azzi asks, and her tone lilts teasingly but she is sort of freaking out on the inside because moments like these—moments where Azzi hardly bothers to hide her feelings for Paige and Paige, instead of shying away, responds—are becoming a little too common for comfort.

Paige rests her chin on Azzi’s shoulder, lips brushing her cheek when she says, “Think you know why, hm?”

Yeah. Definitely far too common for comfort.

Ramping up the speedboat a little bit—enough that Ryan whoops and Lauren leans over the side to touch the water—Azzi shifts her hips. She moves out of discomfort, almost subconsciously trying to get away from this buzzing energy between her and her best friend, but Paige lets out a huff of air at the motion and, curious, Azzi does it again.

A full-on gasp this time.

A flush creeps up over Azzi’s cheeks all the way down her chest, and she’s not sure if it’s from pleasure or shyness, though likely it’s both. But she can’t let Paige have the upper hand, because Azzi can’t even imagine how quickly she’d fold if that happened. So instead, she turns her head to the side and says, “All good, Paige?”

The problem with this is Paige’s face is still turned toward her when she says it. And when Azzi moves to reciprocate the angle, their lips are so close that they brush on the last word. On the utterance of Paige’s name.

Azzi jerks back as soon as it happens, putting a couple inches of distance between their faces, and she’s sure the flush is noticeable by now. She tries for a lighthearted laugh, “Oh, sorry, didn’t realize you were so close—“

She doesn’t see it coming when Paige kisses her.

It pulls a gasp out of her, lips now pressed against Paige parting slightly in surprise, and her eyes don’t even close until she feels Paige’s tongue dip inside her mouth.

It’s a quick swipe, her tongue against the space between Azzi’s teeth and upper lip before she’s pulling away—only enough to make the kiss much more chaste.

Her hands slide from Azzi’s waist to her stomach, and Azzi grips onto the steering wheel for dear life when Paige moans ever so quietly into her mouth, the sound barely heard over the wind whipping around them. And then the wind is whipping Paige’s hair into their faces, a few strands getting in Azzi’s mouth, which she takes as her opportunity to pull away. Paige stares at her—The Look again—for only a split second this time (Azzi much prefers that over the lingering one) before her face is breaking into a smile, not cocky or smug or teasing but just bright, and Azzi can’t help but laugh with her as they pull Paige’s hair out of her mouth.

“Keep your eyes on the lake!” Lauren yells at them, and when they look at her she’s got her nose wrinkled. “What is it with you guys and PDA today?”

“Maybe someone put viagra in their coffees this morning,” Ryan suggests, looking equally as disgusted as his little sister but also twice as amused.

“What’s viagra?” Lauren asks.

“Yo, Ryan!” Paige snaps, her hands moving tantalizingly from Azzi’s tummy to rest low on her hips instead, and Azzi forces herself to look back where she’s driving. “Keep it PG, dawg!”

“I could say the same thing to you,” he replies, and Azzi isn’t looking at him but she can picture the smirk on his face—she knows the look all too well by now.

The three of them bicker for a few more minutes, and Azzi tries really hard to focus on where they’re going rather than the implications of that kiss and all the questions that follow it.

Paige is the bad driver, but when she leans forward and mimics her—“All good, baby?”—Azzi worries she may be the one to crash this boat.

———————————————

“Sunscreen time!”

“No, what?”

“We just put some on!”

“Az, I’m never gonna tan at this point!”

Shaking the sunscreen into her hands, Azzi motions the three siblings towards her. “C’mon, you need it.”

“I don’t burn,” Lauren insists as she steps up in front of Azzi, lifting her arms dutifully anyway.

“You’re already getting a little red,” Azzi points out, applying an extra-thick layer onto Lauren’s rosy nose.

“This is lame,” Lauren groans, though she still lets Azzi work in silence and mumbles a thank you before she turns back to the lake.

Ryan is next, and he doesn’t complain about it but he does stare down at his phone the entire time, his head only falling back down when Azzi tries to push it up. “Ryan,” she sighs.

He tears his eyes away from his phone, only to look around subconsciously. Azzi knows he’s trying to see if the gaggle of teenage girls along the rocky beach have noticed him getting his sunscreen done.

“Hurry up,” Paige complains, nudging her younger brother in the back, and he turns around to shove her.

Azzi fights back a smile. “You can put it on yourself if that’s better.”

“It’s good,” he says nonchalantly, but he hasn’t quite mastered acting like he doesn’t care.

Azzi finishes up quickly, ending the torture with an encouraging smile, watching him run up to join his sister where she stands on the ledge above the lake, sneaking up on her. He pushes her in and Azzi laughs at the way Lauren screeches before her eyes drift to Paige, who is now standing right in front of her, looking awfully petulant.

“You really don’t want me to tan, huh?” she says, wincing as Azzi rubs the cold lotion over Paige’s sun-kissed shoulders.

“Your white ass is gonna burn if we don’t do this every thirty minutes,” Azzi says, reiterating what she said the past five times Paige complained about the sunscreen.

“I got a little melanin in me.”

Azzi looks at the way Paige’s blue eyes are squinting against the summer sun, the way her pale skin is already tinted pink, and raises her brows.

Paige holds her hand up. “Just gimme the sunscreen.”

Chuckling, Azzi squirts some into her hand before giving the bottle to Paige, who turns around and starts doing her front while Azzi does her back. They’ve done this maybe a hundred times, before countless sunny fair days and hot boat rides, but today it just feels a little…off. Everything feels a little off about them recently.

Azzi worries it may be her fault. She has always been good at hiding her feelings for Paige, good at making sure her attraction doesn’t show on her face just like she knows all her other emotions do. But recently, ever since they began this facade—and more so ever since they arrived in Montana—she knows she’s been slipping up. She thought she’d be okay but she wasn’t prepared for the way Paige would look at her like she wasn’t pretending, the way Paige calls her pet names even when they’re alone, the way Paige told her she liked kissing her and wants to do it again.

The way Paige did do it again.

And there lies the burning question: why?

Azzi knows Paige doesn’t have feelings for her. Azzi knows that she’s the only one who lies awake thinking about having Paige in every sense of the word, the only one who wakes up in the middle of the night thinking of Paige with an uncomfortable stickiness between her legs. She is the only one, of course, who is in love.

Then why do Paige’s eyes and hands wander nowadays? Why does she call her baby in quiet moments? Why did she kiss her when she really didn’t have to?

Could she be—attracted to Azzi? Maybe through playing this role, she’s seen Azzi in a new light, and realized her best friend is no longer dorky and fourteen but rather a tall, pretty twenty year old with a great ass. (And yes, Azzi knows she has a great ass.)

She could be attracted to her and not be in love. She could be attracted to her and have no other attachment whatsoever. The two things can be true at once, can’t they?

The thought flatters her but it mostly scares her, because she’s barely surviving this unrequited love as it is. But with her best friend having any level of attraction back? How is she supposed to continue on like that?

“Azzi?” Paige asks, and the tone of her voice implies she’s already said it a few times.

Azzi hums, blinking. “Sorry, yeah?”

“Uh,” Paige says, and it’s then that Azzi realizes her hands have stopped rubbing lotion into Paige’s back and have sort of just come to rest on her waist—like it’s instinctive. Like it’s natural. “You done back there?”

“Yeah, sorry,” Azzi says, but for some unknown reason she can’t find it in herself to let go.

Paige glances over her shoulder. “Azzi?” she repeats.

Azzi can’t really take it any longer.

“Why’d you kiss me?”

Paige’s sides tense up under Azzi’s hands, and then she’s stepping away, out of her grasp, and turning to face her.

The look on her face is guarded, almost closed off completely. This is dangerous territory and Azzi has barely dipped her toes in the water yet.

When Azzi’s hands fall helplessly to her sides, Paige says, “I was pretending.”

As much as Azzi doesn’t buy it, the words—and the flat, cold intonation of them—sting. “Didn’t feel like it.”

“Why’re you being weird about it?” Paige asks, eyes dancing nervously away from Azzi’s face.

“I’m not, Paige. I just—I wanna know. For real.”

“You agreed to do this for me,” Paige reminds her, as if that has anything to do with this. But, of course, it has everything to do with this, and Azzi hates how easy it makes it for the both of them to hide under a facade, a lie.

“I know,” Azzi says carefully, also taking a step back if only to get away from Paige’s chilly stare. “But you didn’t have to kiss me this time. There wasn’t a reason.”

Paige shrugs, and Azzi hates to admit it but she is much better than her younger brother at acting nonchalant. “We’re s’posed to be a couple. I don’t want my siblings getting suspicious. They know I’m a touchy person.”

Getting the sinking feeling that Azzi won’t get anything out of this conversation other than a fight, she nods slowly, looking down at the ground. “Yeah, I guess so.”

Paige, as usual, thaws at the slightest hint of weakness, taking a tiny step forward. “Did it make you uncomfortable?”

“No,” Azzi is a little too quick to say. The kiss caught her by surprise, but they’ve only done it two times and Azzi is quickly coming to find that kissing Paige is the most comfortable thing in the world—it’s natural, and right, and like curling up in bed with a book and a warm cup of tea—and Azzi also knows they should never do it again.

Despite the earnest answer, Paige looks at her suspiciously. “You sure, ma? Don’t ever wanna make you uncomfortable.”

Azzi does her best to fix her face, which she worries may be showing a little too much. “Yeah, yeah. I’m sure.”

“Aight,” Paige says, but she still doesn’t sound very convinced. Azzi’s just glad she’s letting it go.

“Sorry for bringing it up,” Azzi says. She’s not.

At this, Paige sighs, reaching out to bridge the gap between them, running a gentle hand up and down Azzi’s arm. “Nah, don’t be, I get it. Sorry for getting a lil defensive.”

A little? Despite the fact she doesn’t believe Paige one bit, and that she doesn’t like anything about the interaction they just had, Azzi manages a smile. “You’re good.”

Paige nods, and her smile at least seems to be sincere. But as they jump into the lake, and as Paige talks Azzi’s ear off while Azzi floats around lazily in a donut floatie, things feel even more off than before.

Azzi can’t quite place what it is until late that night, when they’re both going to sleep and Paige is, for the first time in ages, strangely quiet. She glances over to find Paige lying on her stomach, face turned away, breathing too quickly to be asleep.

And that’s when Azzi notices it. The gap between them, the sheer amount of space from Azzi on her side all the way to Paige, who is almost on the edge of the bed.

Paige always sleeps close to Azzi.

And she always sleeps with her head turned towards her.

@azzibuckets @smiths-fan--13 @ch12334 @makethemhoesmad @the-other-half @rosemariiaa

lmk if u wanna be on my tag list btw!!

[ddejavvu]

Spring Fling - Jake 'Hangman' Seresin x Reader (Part Five) (18+) / Part One | Part Two | Part Three | Part Four

Summary: You should have known the ‘no refunds’ detail on the website for Spring Fling was a red flag. But you paid no mind to it, eager to be assigned a quick fuck for spring break. When the man that walks through your cabin door is none other than Jake 'Hangman' Seresin, your wildly infuriating fellow pilot, you have two choices: bicker the entire time and have a miserable spring break, or fuck.

Contents/Warnings: smut, minors dni. fem!reader, pilot!reader, enemies/rivals to lovers, lots and lots of arguing, could these two people be any less cooperative, sex seven ways to sunday and then some, seriously like so much smut it'll make your eyes bleed, makeouts, rough sex, oral (m+f receiving), penetrative sex, will add as i post

WC: 7.0k / navigation / inbox

A/N: Thank you all for waiting for this chapter! I know it took me longer to finish this one than it did the others but it's the longest chapter so far, and I also had a lot of major life events go down in the time between this chapter and last. I appreciate each and every single one of you who stayed patient with me, and I hope that this chapter and that the rest to come are worth the wait :) <3

feedback is greatly appreciated! comment, reblog, talk in the tags, send me a message, tell me what you think!

You’re doing a terrible job at paying attention to where you’re going as you take the elevator, jamming your finger against the 12 button so hard it hurts. Pizza is on the twelfth floor, and you’re hoping Daniel will be there early like you so that you can forget about Jake and his tyrannical rule. 

It’s clear as day to you; Jake thinks he has control over you just the same way he has control over the girls that drool over him at the Hard Deck. He thinks one glance will melt your brain into mush, but it won’t. It doesn’t, and you’re not letting the cockiest man you know believe he’s won you over. Especially one that you work with. If anyone found out- if any of your fellow aviators knew that you’d succumbed to Jake’s charms… you’d risk losing the respect you’ve fought hard to earn on the tarmac. You’re not letting your career take a nosedive because Jake won’t stop bragging about getting his dick wet. He doesn’t get a say in your life if he has nothing genuine to contribute to it. You know him well enough to know that caving in and fucking would be the worst decision of your life, and you refuse to let him feel like he’s won you like a prize. You’re standing up for yourself; if he can shit-talk Daniel, you can shit-talk Miss Melons.

Your skin prickles with annoyance the more you think about the woman that had approached you both- seriously, did she not consider that she was being intrusive and rude? You assume Jake has snagged her away from her roommate by now, and they’re probably having a better time than you are. 

Everything feels unfair, down to the coincidental roommate placement. It’s like the universe had heard you needed a break, and wanted to punish you for it.

Cracking open your book helps, but it takes you a while to get into the groove. You’re sitting poolside across from the pizza place, eyes glancing from page to parlor every once in a while to check for a certain bearded man. The main lead is compelling, and your stomach soars as you imagine Daniel in a cowboy hat. You’d save that horse.

Peace is hard to find while sitting poolside on a cruise, but chaos is actually the perfect white noise for you to read, and your concentration isn’t broken until a shadow falls over your lounge chair. You glance up, but it’s not the man you’d wanted to see.

“Hey.” Jake’s already frowning, his face apprehensive like he thinks you’ll scream at him to get away. You want to, but you don’t want to cause a scene.

“What, Hangman?”

“I’m not trying to control you.” He pushes despite seeing your gaze back on your book, “I just don’t think you’re meant to be with Daniel. But I shouldn’t have given you a hassle for doing the same thing to me. I just… I do it because-”

He stops short, glancing sideways at a man running despite the clear no running sign on the lifeguard tower. You decide to help him in his moment of need.

“Because you’re used to women who let you walk all over them. Even if you’re not trying to control me, you’re used to having that control. It’s familiar for you, so you expect it, even if you don’t know you’re doing it. But I’m not like that. You can’t keep me waiting on you.”

The scoff he lets out is accompanied by an expression that looks truly pained, “That ain’t it at all. But forget it. Don’t worry about why I do it. I just thought maybe you were doin’ it to me for the same reasons. But never mind. I’ll shut up about Daniel. Truce?”

You glare up at him, book still open in your lap. He extends an uncharacteristically helping hand, and you wait a truly uncomfortable amount of time before taking it and shaking once.

“Truce.”

He takes the chair beside you, stretched out in the sun. Unfortunately, it seems like your reading time is over as his head turns to you, “So, Dudley showed up yet?”

“He’s coming for lunch.” You cling to your novel, trying desperately to ignore Jake and his instantly broken promise, “What about Melon girl, they weren’t ripe enough for you?”

“She wasn’t my type.” He starts, and there’s a heavy silence before he continues, “I don’t like a woman who thinks it’s fun to get between a couple.”

The sideways glance you send Hangman, the ‘I-told-you-so’ smirk, is lethal.

“Anyways.” He continues, tone more casual now, “Fancy a swim, darlin’?”

“I’ll read instead,” You offer, “But you have fun, Hangman.”

“Party Pooper,” He accuses, standing from the lounge chair he’s occupying and stretching briefly, “You’re an absolute mood-killer. No fun, the most boring person on this boat.”

“I’m about to be more of one: have you put sunscreen on?”

“Nope,” He grins, “You volunteering to do the honors, you sleazy thing?”

“Absolutely not. But you can use the stuff in my bag.” You nod at your tote bag, “Don’t use it all, though.”

“Yes, ma’am.” Jake nods, folding into a seat on the edge of the lounge chair beside yours, “So, what’s going on in that book, they boning yet?”

“Mhm.” You nod absently as Jake begins smearing sunscreen over his arms and legs, “Real sexy stuff.”

“I’ve got somethin’ sexier for you.”

“It’s a porn book, Hangman,” You clarify, in case he’s forgotten, “I’m trying to read porn. Leave me alone.”

“There’s porn right here!” He calls, arms out to show off his impressively tanned and toned chest, a thick layer of sunscreen giving it a sheen that glistens in the light. As reluctant as you are to admire anything about Jake, you can’t lie; he has a body worth ogling. But you will not ogle it.

“This porn’s better,” You hum, glancing up at Jake through your lashes, deceptively inviting, “This guy’s got a cowboy hat on.”

“I’ve got a million and one cowboy hats,” Jake insists, slowly inching towards you and away from the edge of the pool, “Is that really all it takes, darlin’? ‘Cause I can slap one on in seconds, if that’s what you’re after. ‘Even brought one with me in case my roommate was into it.”

“Mm, maybe,” You let him get closer, excitement clearly swirling in his eyes as he advances towards your chair. He doesn’t notice the shifting of your feet until it’s too late and one is shoving firmly against his chest, knocking him off balance and sending him tumbling backwards into the pool.

There’s not anyone in his immediate vicinity besides you, so you take the brunt of the splash, but it’s worth it.

“But I like it better when the hat’s on a real gentleman!” You call, laughter interrupting your words as Jake emerges from the pool well and truly soaked, shaking water out of his hair. He’s been thoroughly underwater trained, so he’d been able to catch his breath in time despite the surprise of it all, and there’s no real harm done besides the initial splash.

“You dirty rotten minx,” He calls, water dripping from his short hair into his eyes, “You lured me in with the promise of cowboy hat sex just to push me in the pool?”

“I can’t believe you fell for it!” You’re still laughing, but maybe this bout of giggles is only to annoy him, “That’s, like, the oldest trick in the book. Well, maybe besides the cowboy hat sex thing. But you shouldn’t have gotten so close!”

He braces his elbows on the wall of the pool, the border surely burning his skin. But he stares at you regardless, “I thought you were finally givin’ in.”

“It’d take a lot more than a cowboy hat to make me give in, Jake.” You laugh, turning back to your book, “Like, a full personality transplant.”

Jake hears Danica’s words repeated back to him in his head, ‘Show, don’t tell’.

“Noted. I’ll look into one’uh those,” He quips, smile sarcastic and empty as he resorts to swimming alone, “Hey, when you’re done with that chapter, you should join me.”

“No.”

“Alright.”

You glance away from the book’s pages at Hangman’s unusual, immediate acceptance of your refusal. But he lifts himself out of the water- no stairs, no ladder, only his forearms against the deck, and your stomach sinks as you realize he might be playing a game of wills with you.

Instead, he sits beside you again, this time facing away from you, “Will you rub some sunscreen on my back?”

You want to say no. You would, if he were only asking to feel your hands on him. And maybe that’s part of it, but you also know that as much as he tans, he could burn, and his back is the only part of himself that he can’t reach. You’d want someone to do you the solid too, so you sigh and set your book aside.

“Fine. But you owe me.”

“Mhm.” He nods, passing you the sunscreen, “I’ll rub it wherever you want, Y/N.”

You whack him upside the head with the bottle, and when he hisses in pain and pitches forwards, you squirt some of the lotion onto your palm and begin applying it to the broad, tanned, muscled expanse of his back.

You’re no masseuse, but apparently you’re rubbing all the right places, because Jake lets out grunts and groans that are borderline pornographic. If they were coming from anyone else, you might have squirmed in your seat, but each one sends your eyes rolling skywards as you cover Jake’s skin in goopy sun lotion.

“Damn, you’re good.” Jake grunts as you dig into a knot beneath his shoulder blade, “Do that again?”

“I’m putting sunscreen on you, Jake, not working out muscle tension.”

“Oh, come on, just a little more?” He pleads, turning so that he can glance at you from the side of his gaze, eyes shining in prayer.

You dig extra hard into his muscle, and you take some sort of wicked pleasure in the way that his resulting groan is more of a pained yelp than something of enjoyment. 

“There, Hangman.” You whack the middle of his back, between his shoulder blades, “You’re all oiled up.”

“Aren’t you glad you were the one to get to do it?” Jake grins blindingly, and you bury your nose in your book again to avoid answering his question.

“Oh, you can stick your face in that book all you want,” Jake drawls, and you hear the displacement of the water he steps in as he lowers himself into the pool, gracefully and by choice this time, “But I know you liked having your hands all over me, darlin’.”

You want to gripe something back- something witty and cutting that will tear him down where he stands, but he’s turned away from you, already submerging himself to begin swimming laps. You admire his dedication to exercise even while on vacation- you have no plans to visit the gym in the lower decks.

Jake sees the diving board just as you do, and you keep him in your peripheral vision as he climbs out of the pool to make his way up the ladder. Your novel is begging to be read, but your eyes stick firm on one fitting word- ‘abdomen’ so that you can watch Jake from the corner of your eye as he prepares to dive.

Fortunately, you don’t need to continue the ruse of reading because Jake bellows from across the deck, “Y/N, look!”

You’re met with a grin when you look up at him, his arms raised above his head and joined flush together in diving position, “I’m gonna dive- watch me.”

“I’m watching.” You call, injecting your voice with as much disinterest as you can manage without feeling guilty, “This feels like babysitting, Hangman.”

He dives instead of quipping back, and it’s an impressive one, not that you’ll sing his praises for it. He comes up on the side of the pool closest to you, arms flinging an arc of water onto the concrete before you.

“Was it good?” He asks, panting slightly, hanging onto the wall.

“Yes,” You reply, a sickly sweet smile on your face as you condescend to him, “You did so good, honey.”

“Shut up,” He sends a wave of water splashing over your sandals, and you can’t be mad at him after all the teasing you’ve been inflicting upon him.

“I’ve been workin’ on my diving,” He goes back to swimming around, this time more casual as he keeps his head above the water to speak with you, “My nieces back home are learnin’ to swim so I’ve been in the pool a lot lately. Anytime they drag me in there I dive in and splash them.”

His arms cut through the water with strength and ease, confident strokes as you mull over his words. The image of Jake urging a toddler in floaties to cross a 3-foot gap into his arms is- endearing, not that you’ll admit it. You hum in acknowledgement, and tuck back into your book.

There’s not many people in the pool this early- most are probably still in bed with a hangover and a mess to clean up - and it’s large to boot, so there’s plenty of room. Your eyes drift left and catch sight of a jacuzzi, and suddenly your beach chair seems to pale in comparison.

Okay, you won’t join Jake in the pool, but you’ll relax for a couple of minutes in the jacuzzi. Just until Daniel gets here.

Jake doesn’t notice that you’ve stood until your chair is empty, and you have a perfect view of him floundering, scanning the entire deck until he spots you half-submerged in the hot tub.

You get to laugh at him again, and he grants you a good-natured grin instead of getting annoyed.

“I thought you’d finally found what’s-his-name,” Jake swims over to the separation wall that keeps the hot water parted from the cold, “Mind if I join you, Y/N?”

“Only if you’re- careful!” You shriek, trying desperately to protect the pages of your book from his sopping wet skin as he scales the barrier, “Hangman, if this book gets wet, you’re replacing it for me.”

“Alright, alright! I’ll take you on a shopping spree, relax. Hey, if I’m buyin’ you porn books, doesn’t that make me somethin’ like a sugar daddy?”

“You’re not getting any sugar,” You shrug, “But sure.”

“Just call me daddy, Y/N.” He grins, “That’s all the sugar I need.”

You hide behind your book so that he can’t see the way your face wrinkles into a grimace. The heat from the jacuzzi spreads inexplicably quick all of a sudden, warming your neck, your ears, your face, and Jake lets out a thick, heavy groan as he settles into the warm water.

“This is nice.” He muses, eyes closed, “Real relaxing.”

“It’s less relaxing when someone’s talking the whole time,” You peek across the side of your book, “Shut up, maybe?”

Jake snorts, leaning his head back against the edge of the pool, “Alright, alright your majesty. I’ll stay silent.”

You don’t verbally thank him, but you don’t make a scene when his leg drifts across the jet currents of the jacuzzi to brush against yours.

You cover a good chunk of your novel before a voice calls your name, and this time it’s the two people you’d been hoping to see all morning. Danica waves giddily at you and Jake, who’s picked his head up from where you thought he’d fallen asleep and is already mad-dogging Daniel. You wave back to Danica, and cast a quick glance down at your bathing suit before standing to greet Daniel. It’s just as tight and showy as you prefer it to be. 

You pay no attention to Jake where he gets out behind you, too focused on Daniel to care. But perhaps you should have, because you’re two steps from meeting Daniel in the middle when Jake’s strong arm shoves you sideways, and your book is wrenched from your grasp as you fall sideways into the pool.

It’s cold, colder even because you’d been soaking in the hot tub. You’re surprised, but you suppose you can’t even really be mad at him considering it’s just payback for what he’d done to you.

You’ve barely righted yourself in the water before there’s another splash beside you, and when you finally emerge there’s hands reaching for your waist, Daniel’s as you realize he’d jumped in to help you. 

“You-!” You splutter at Jake with bleary, chlorine-soaked eyes, attention split between Daniel who’s trying to ensure you’re alright, and Jake who’s snickering while holding your book in his thankfully dry hand.

“You asshole.” Daniel finishes for you, “She could have drowned!”

“I know how to swim,” You brace a hand on Daniel’s chest- startlingly bare, but riddled with coarse, brown hair, “It’s fine, I- I pushed him in earlier.”

“Relax, Prince Charming. It’s just a bit of payback. And look,” Jake waves your novel in front of you, “Dry as a bone.”

“Well I am- uh, not.” You stand half-submerged in the pool, Daniel still holding onto your waist, “So, I guess I will go swimming.”

“Great. You can swim with us.” Daniel smiles, warm and inviting as he keeps his hands on you.

“Yeah, us.” Jake agrees, taking Danica’s towel and spreading it over a sunny lounge chair for her.

Jake helps lower Danica gently into the pool, holding her hand while she takes the stairs, before jumping in beside you so that you’re splashed by the wave he creates.

“You are an asshole,” You laugh, breaking away from Daniel’s grip to shove at Jake’s shoulder. The grins on your faces are bright and genuine, perhaps the first time you’ve both been able to laugh with each other the entire trip. It feels nice, and you don’t fight when he shoves back at you with strong arms.

“Hey- hey!” Danica shouts, standing behind Daniel with a hand on his shoulder, “Why don’t you turn that pushing and shoving into a game of chicken?”

“I’m down,” Daniel seems thrilled to be opposite Jake as he lowers himself for Danica to climb atop his shoulders, “Y/N, you okay on his shoulders?”

Jake does the honors himself, dunking himself under the water and coming up between your legs. You barely have time to plant your hands on the top of his head, fingers twisting instinctively into his hair as you accidentally tug it while he stands at his full height again.

“Shit, sorry Hangman.” You let go of his hair, hoping you hadn’t yanked too hard. He’s forgiven, for now, so you won’t resort to childish things like hair-pulling.

“That’s okay, darlin’.” He grins, craning his neck back to meet your eye, “I like it when you tug on my hair.”

You have to overlook Jake’s suggestive comment as Danica’s already reaching for you, and you eagerly engage in a shoving match while the two men beneath you plant themselves into the bottom of the pool. You manage to get a leg up on Danica, and they’re both pushed backwards by the force of your shove, but Daniel surges forwards and ends up knocking you and his roommate right into each other.

You collapse against Danica, forehead-to-forehead, giggling like little girls. Her eyes are bright and shining with amusement, and her breath smells minty- like gum, not toothpaste. You’re more than happy to begin pushing at each other again, and though you’re confident your navy-built muscles are going to prevail, she lands a critical shove against your shoulder that throws you off-balance and sends you toppling off of Jake’s shoulders.

The water is cold, colder than you remember as you splash into it, and when you come up for air, already laughing, Jake’s facing you, having turned when you’d fallen from his shoulders. He’s grinning too, a hand already outstretched to help you up, but upon seeing you stand his eyes widen and his face drops.

“Shit.” He lunges for you, cutting through the water as his arm wraps around your back to yank you tight against his chest. You protest, grunting with exertion as you try fighting against his grip. But his muscles are impressive, and you’re trapped against his chest despite your best efforts.

“Would you cut it out? I’m trying to help you. Your top came untied.”

“What?” You splutter, water trailing down your face as you quell your instinctive struggle against his crushing hold. You realize that the reason for the extreme cold had, in fact, been because your bikini top had abandoned ship, and you barely have time to process the feeling of your bare tits slammed up against Jake’s hard, toned chest before he’s fishing the bathing suit out of the water and feeding it around your waist.

“Up,” He instructs, lifting his eyes to the expansive blue sky above you so that you can separate yourself from his chest for long enough to cover your own again. It’s- a strange gesture of courtesy that you would have expected from Daniel, sure, but not Jake. Perhaps that’s why you’re so sluggish, why it takes you longer than expected to fit your top back over your tits and grapple with the strings.

“You decent?” Jake asks, and when you grunt in confirmation he drops his eyes again. He notices you struggling with the ties and reaches for them himself, gently swatting your fingers away as he uses his advantage of sight. It presses his muscular shoulder up against your face, and you turn so that your cheek rests against it instead of your nose. Suddenly you’re held against his chest like a slow dance, and something terribly and inexplicably squirmy happens in your stomach.

“Done. I double knotted it.” He hums, and it’s such a sincere tone, one that’s completely vacant of all his usual dickishness, that you lose yourself staring at his face when he pulls away. You begin examining it for any sign that perhaps he was murdered and replaced with a poorly-trained doppelganger.

His hair looks right, albeit sopping wet. His eyebrows are growing slightly bushier than usual, but nothing you’d consider a complete and total imposter. His nose is still the same: strong, slightly downturned (though not as far as Rooster’s), and there’s a tiny patch of sunscreen that hasn’t been rubbed in near his right eye. His mouth is set in a determined purse as he double knots the strings of your bikini top together, and his eyes- his eyes are different.

Miles different than you’ve ever seen them. The outside edge of his hazel-green rings is softened, like someone has blurred their usual sharp border and lined it with suede. His pupils are huge, and they’d be eclipsing his irises if those weren’t so big and puppy-like. He is, in every sense of the word, gentle, inside and out. 

Jake has never been gentle before. 

“You alright?” He asks, and you snap back to reality with his large hands spread over the expanse of your bare back, the eyes that you’d been examining firmly and concernedly fixed upon you. Only a few meager strings separate his skin from yours, and you nod once, steadily as you gently push his arms off of you.

“Let’s go again,” You call to Danica and Daniel, your voice a piss-poor attempt at strength and nonchalance as it lacks its usual life, “Good hit, Danica. But watch out, I’m gonna kick your ass.”

“Bring it,” She grins gleefully, and her giddy gaze drifts downwards to Jake’s face when he lifts you onto his shoulders yet again. From the looks of it they share some sort of silent conversation- some inside joke that you’re not privy to. 

Something about that, something about her excluding you from a conversation with your own teammate makes you shove her, not enough to knock her off of Daniel’s shoulders, but enough to show her that you’re not going easy on her. She shrieks giddily as she writhes to stay balanced on Daniel’s shoulders, a smidge less broad than Jake’s. You’re thankful for that, for the steady mount you’ve got, as you resume pushing and shoving at Danica.

Jake is going insane. Not only does the phantom sensation of your bare tits- nipples hard from the chilly pool water - stick to him like a wet t-shirt, he can feel you against the back of his neck, your warm sex nestled snugly against him with only the bottom half of your bikini to separate you. Your thighs bracket his head, close enough for him to reach out and bite at, but he has to focus on keeping his stance sturdy so that you can play properly. Daniel’s glaring viciously at him across the few feet that separates the four of you, and he’s not going to let Mr. Mailman win. 

This time, Jake suspects you’ve used that military muscle of yours, because Danica slips backwards off of Daniel’s dewy shoulders and splashes into the pool. Your hand cups beneath Jake’s chin, tilting his head upwards and leaning it back into your lap.

“Nice one,” He grins upside-down at you, and you bump your fist against his when he offers it. Then you’re craning your neck down, surely uncomfortable as you leave mere inches between your lips and his, and his ears are ringing.

“Back up,” You murmur, disguising it as a congratulatory speech while Daniel helps Danica back onto his shoulders, “Get them to chase us and we’ll use the momentum against them.”

“Darlin’,” Jake proclaims, pride puffing up his chest that your legs are resting against, “You’re my kinda woman. Always looking to win.”

“Just do it, Hangman,” You scoff, but your eye-roll is less than irritated, fond if anything due to your partnership as Jake drops his head to face Daniel and Danica once more.

Jake stands in place where he’d been before, but when Danica engages with you he begins backing up. Slowly, carefully, ensuring that his feet are planted steadily each step so that you’re not tipped over, he makes his way towards the drop off towards the deeper end of the water. Daniel follows, taking the bait, and soon enough his predicament becomes obvious: he’s not as tall as Jake.

He stands somewhere close to six feet, surely, but not past it like Jake does. Your partner’s head is still comfortably above water, smirk in full force as Daniel’s beard becomes waterlogged. 

“That’s not fair!” Danica laughs, petting sympathetically at Daniel’s sopping wet hair, “Poor guy, we’ll get you stilts for the next round.”

Daniel lands a teasing pinch against the curve of her ass and she shrieks. You lunge for her, using her momentary shock to catch her off guard as you send her tumbling backwards into the water behind Daniel. 

You don’t have time to celebrate before Jake is ducking down and slipping himself out from beneath you, his strong arms bracing your fall so that you barely sink a few feet into the water. He crushes you in a celebratory hug, his laughter harmonizing with your own. He turns you both to face Daniel and Danica as they splutter to catch their breath, his cheek pressed flush against your own. 

“Chicken Champions,” He declares, holding you tight to his side at his own height, which means your feet float above his own in the water, “I’d offer to go again, but that’d just be cruel. You ladies wanna chatter in the hot tub while Danny-Boy and I show off on the diving board?”

“I brought a book,” Danica hums, face dripping with water you feel only mildly guilty for submerging her in, “If you wanna read, Y/N, I’ll do it with you.”

“Perfect.” Daniel nods, already cutting through the water on his way to the diving board, “I’ll be careful not to splash you guys.”

“I won’t.” Jake supplies helpfully, his grin turned shit-eating as he eyes you up, “No point in reading one of them smutty porn books if you’re not soaking wet.”

“Splash me and I’ll throw your room key off the side of the boat, Hangman,” You promise, “You’ll be begging strangers to take pity on you in the elevator.”

“Nah, that’s not my style,” Jake’s voice is dripping with intent while Daniel takes position on the diving board, his swim trunks dripping steady trails of water. You don’t know why until he continues, taking his own bait, “I’ll leave that to Daniel.”

You blame Jake’s comment for why Daniel’s dive nearly turns into a belly flop. It’s instantaneous, really, Daniel’s changing of posture as he register’s Jake’s biting words, and you have half a mind to admonish Jake for riling Daniel up during a dive- that could have ended badly. As it stands, Daniel does a sort of cannonball, though not intentionally, and you and Danica cringe in unison when he lands, sending water splashing well over the divider into the hot tub. Your book remains mostly unscathed- only a droplet of water lands on the cover and obscures the male lead’s face, blurring out his beard and making him appear clean-shaven. 

Jake is already scaling the ladder, and when he gets to the top he surveys Daniel emerging from the water.

“Six,” He shrugs, sneering down at Daniel from the highest point on the deck, “‘Could’ve clinched a seven if you hadn’t splashed the ladies, but your form was still shit.”

He doesn’t give Daniel a chance to fire back- or maybe the man is just too smart to take Jake’s bait - before he sets his arms together above his head, and seamlessly, impeccably cuts through the water. For someone so muscular and bulky, his form is graceful- not that you’ll ever tell him that. Water arcs outwards from where he’d landed, one half of the splash practically targeting Daniel where he stands watching.

He swims farther, nearly reaching the other end of the pool before he emerges, shaking water from his hair like a dog as he looks intently at you and Danica in the hot tub for a rating.

“Ten!” Your reading companion shouts, blessedly unaware of the tense atmosphere- or again, too intelligent to fall for Jake’s lowly antics- and you look at the water-stained cover of your novel.

You smear away the water droplet with your dry thumb, and the male main character’s beard returns.

“Four.” You call, voice deadpan as you lock your eyes on your novel, “For playing dirty and sabotaging the other contestants.”

Hangman’s grin is open-mouthed and cemented into place as he stands taller than Daniel in the water, tanned skin standing starkly out from the blue of the chlorinated water, “Dirty’s the best way to play, darlin’.”

Danica shoots you a look from behind the spread of her novel that you’ve sent many-a-girlfriend before. It’s the wide-eyed, restrained smile that screams ‘We’re talking about this later’, and you mirror her expression with your own disdain.

“Leave us alone,” You call, grinning apologetically at Daniel so that he knows he’s only a bystander, “We want to read.”

“Let’s leave the ladies to their smut, Dorian.” Jake calls, louder than he needs to be as he stretches to display his toned abdomen and muscled arms, “We can find our own fun. Wanna see who can swim the fastest? Place your bets, ladies: pilot or mailman?”

“You swam pretty slow when you crash-landed in the Pacific that one time,” You muse, fighting to keep a smirk off of your face, “I remember thinking you would die in the time it took for you to swim back to shore.”

“Wouldn’t’ve gone so slow if I wasn’t hauling my RIO back to shore. He hit his head on the way down,” Jake dips his head towards Danica, happily regaling her with the tale,  and you realize you’ve only fluffed his ego more, “So he was unconscious. Well I couldn’t just leave him there, ‘poor guy was only a trainee. So I took him along. It did slow me down, but,” He heaves a disgusting, gaudy, fake sigh, “It was worth it to send him back home to his mama.”

You taste a hint of blood where you’ve apparently chewed through your lip. You let it go and hope nothing escapes your mouth. It would be a shame to stain the pages of your novel red.

You’re trying very hard not to pay attention to Jake and Danica where he’s engaged her in a staring contest. Well, you suppose it’s not much of a contest that she can win: the point is that you’re losing. Jake’s showing off his impressive build, still running his mouth with every vaguely self-complementary anecdote he can embellish, and Danica is taking the bait, which means that your rampant attempts to cool Jake’s ego have failed. 

You let the warm, borderline-hot water sink into your skin and simmer alongside the building irritation that threatens to blow beneath the surface. You’re tired. This was supposed to be a relaxing vacation for you- or, if not relaxing, a good way to blow off steam. You were supposed to be bent in half up against the shower wall by now, not bending the pages of your book with the strong grip you’ve cemented onto them while you mediate Jake’s ego and the willingness of so many women to accommodate it. 

Part of you wants to let loose and have fun- not with Jake, of course. Never with Jake. But part of you wants to act rationally, forget the constant rivalry between you two and let him shack up with whoever will show him her tits first. But the other part of you, the one that cheers every time he places second in a show of skill, wants to knock him down a peg. It’s why you’re so persistently humbling him- or, trying to, at least. Something about him putting on this cocky persona- erasing all human emotion to make way for pure sleaze puts you on edge, and you pity the fool who believes it.

You can’t tell if Danica’s that fool yet, because she’s turned back to her book with a smile, but to her credit she doesn’t ogle him while he’s swimming. It would be easy to- he’s all tanned muscle and gestures that show off just the right curve or vein. He knows how to preen, but Danica seems to be minding her own business. That makes it easier for you to read your own novel; you don’t feel like you have to keep an eye out for her anymore.

You’re not sure whether it’s a love for the act or a wordless competition to outswim the other that keeps Jake and Daniel occupied with lapping the pool for so long, but as more and more people filter out of their rooms and onto the deck, there’s not much room for recreation anymore.

“Are you done?” You ask Danica, peering over at her after someone unknowingly sends a wave of water straight for you both, narrowly avoiding soaking your novels.

“I think I’m done.” She nods sheepishly, rushing to stand and keep her book dry, “Should we run away before the men notice we’re leaving?”

“Excellent plan,” You laugh, but you can practically feel Jake’s eagle eye upon you as you race for your towel, leaving soaked footprints behind on the wooden deck, “We should go get some pizza. They’re making more now that it’s a little busier out here.”

“You shouldn’t stare like that.” Daniel’s irritatingly smooth voice, pitched up slightly from Jake’s and entirely free of Jake’s rugged charm, makes Jake’s lips yearn to curl into a sneer.

Jake pivots in the cold pool water to face Daniel rather unimpressed, a scoff begging to burst from his lips, “Like what?”

“Like she’s a piece of meat, or something.” Daniel’s arms are crossed, and Jake plants his feet firmly against the concrete floor of the pool.

“Oh, you’re so virtuous,” Jake drawls, his skin burning and not from the rays of sun hitting it directly, “You frenched her in an elevator, Daniel, you’ve got no room to be talking to me about class.”

“She wanted me to kiss her. She kissed me.” Daniel insists, and Jake laughs- actually laughs, a grit of his teeth and a forceful exhalation of air, “That’s different than staring at her ass while she runs away from you like you’d flip her skirt up at a drive-in movie theater.”

“Flipping skirts,” Jake laughs, sadistic grin in full force, “Daniel, I’m not that old fashioned! Please, she’s in a bathing suit that she chose, for a sex cruise that she booked, and you know what? She probably wants you to be staring at her ass in it. And you don’t seem too concerned with the other people on the deck, I’m sure a few of them are looking too. And are you worried I’m looking at Danica’s ass?”

“You’re not looking at Danica’s ass.” Daniel nearly bites his tongue in an effort to keep his voice level, “Because you’re not interested in Danica. You’re interested in Y/N and you can’t have her. She’s not yours.”

“She’s not yours, either.” Jake spits, and there’s a moment of silence where both men’s chests heave with barely-suppressed tension. Jake realizes that he’s admitted to Daniel that he has no real claim over you, but the other man doesn’t fight back against not having one of his own. But you are his, you are Jake’s, in the way you’d fallen asleep in his arms last night, in the look in your eyes when you’d stared into his own earlier, in the stain on his pajama pants.

You’d moaned his name- his name, not Daniel’s.

Someone knocks into Daniel from behind, backing right into him and nudging him slightly off balance.

“Oh!” The woman shrieks, “I’m sorry! I wasn’t paying attention.”

“It’s fine.” He offers her a tight smile, heading for the ladder, “Don’t worry about it.”

Jake hauls himself up out of the pool with nothing but his forearms, using his towel to dry his hair if only to show off the expanse of his chest to any who may be watching. He checks- you’re not.

“So,” Danica leans forwards into your space at the pizza counter, eyes meaningfully wide, “Tell me why he’s acting like this.”

“He always acts like this.” You scoff, and when she levels you with an unimpressed glare, you insist, “No, really! He’s just- everything is a competition to him, everything. I met his mom once, and she told me that he used to have races at the dinner table to see who could finish their food first. He kept making himself sick but as long as he’d beat his brothers he didn’t care. He always has to win, and right now, he’s competing for us.”

“No, he’s competing for you.” Danica corrects you, “Is he winning?”

“Hell no. He’s- he’s not really competing for me, not meaningfully. He just wants to say he ‘got me’, you know? That would be major bragging rights on the tarmac. But that’s exactly why I can’t give in- I can’t be known as the woman who slept with her fellow pilot! Then they wouldn’t see my achievements anymore, just my mistakes.”

“I get that.” She nods, “But how do you know he’s just gonna dump you?”

“I’ve watched him dump the whole of San Diego,” You scoff, “That’s what he does. He doesn’t do love, he’s the kind of guy who’s only ever interested in something quick and dirty.”

“Everyone does love.” Danica frowns, “Some people just start later in life than others. And I think he’s starting now. With you.”

“Love,” You laugh, and sure, it’s dramatic, but if it gets through to her, you don’t care, “A man who loves me would not have tormented me for my entire career.”

She tilts her head thoughtfully, “I think he does. Even if he doesn't act the way you think he should, even if he doesn't act the way you would, I think he does love you. I think he just loves differently. I think he's new to it. What has he done to torment you?”

You huff, grateful for the opportunity to vent, “He constantly tries one-upping me- again, he can’t lose. He just- he pokes and prods and teases me like we’re on the playground or something, and it’s non-stop. It’s not like he’s sweet most of the time and then there’s a few bouts of light teasing, it’s- it’s constant, and I can’t ever let my guard down, or I’ll lose.”

“So you’re fighting to win, too.” Her eyes narrow slightly, “Why?”

“Because. I can't be second-best, and I can’t be known as the woman who slept with her coworker. I’m not doing that.” You repeat.

“Oh," She laughs, "So you're both stubborn. You don't want to lose, either. But second-best is temporary, rankings come and go. And I understand your thing about not wanting to be known for sleeping with him, but even if you did sleep with him, the whole Navy doesn’t have to know.”

“They will, Hangman will brag. He always brags.”

“He won’t- not if he’s in love with you, not if you want him to keep it private.”

“He’s not in love with me-!”

“Four slices of Pepperoni, two cheese?” A large tray is placed between you and Danica at the counter you’re both leaning against, and it snaps the two of you out of your debate.

You turn to see one of the employees looking expectantly at you, and Danica stammers, “Uh, three cheese.”

“Sorry.” He smiles placatingly at her, scooping another slice onto the plate, “Three cheese.”

“Thank you.” You take the pepperoni pizza, leaving Danica to collect the cheese. You feel bad for walking away, even if you know she’s hot on your trail, but you feel frustratingly suffocated, like everyone is urging you to make the biggest mistake of your life and never considering why you simply can’t. She doesn’t know Jake, she hasn’t spent the last decade with him as he’s blown his way through tourist after tourist, bragging all the while. And he doesn’t understand what it would be like- even if he wasn’t looking to win, even if he did just want to try casual sex for fun, you’d never be able to escape that reputation. 

You feel like you’re going crazy, and you plop down between Jake and Daniel where they sit at opposite sides of a table, ready to stuff your face with pizza instead of dealing with any of it.

feedback is greatly appreciated! comment, reblog, talk in the tags, send me a message, tell me what you think!

[fancyfeathers]

Another prompt/ask for Fancy! Scenario where Daughter!Darling gets into a courtyard fight with somebody from her school?

Like I’m talking fists flying, scratching, maybe even hair pulling!

Like, who in the Batfam would be horrified to see her come home bruised and who would be immensely proud to see that she beat the other kid to a bloody pulp?

From 🪼

Yandere Batfam w/ Wife/Mother!Darling & Daughter/Sister!Darling Masterlist

The question is who would be the least horrified/concerned

Bruce gets the call from the principal right around lunch time, he is supposed to be in a meeting but then he gets told his daughter was in a fight and he immediately goes to the school only to find his daughter sitting outside the principal’s office with Damian next to her because the principal left him to watch her. Bruce honestly expected a trip to the hospital to check for concussions, but his daughter looked fine besides a few bruises, and then the other kid and his parents come out of the office, the parents look pissed and the kid looked terrified and was the one who probably needed stitches.

Bruce definitely looked like he got a few grays sitting in the principal’s office with Damian and his daughter. She had gotten in a fight at lunch, apparently the other kid said something to her that pissed her off and it ended up in that kid getting beat up, really beat up. Then when she was being brought to the office Damian spotted her and tagged along, demanding an explanation for her, and Damian was pissed because no she is not supposed to get in fights, he was supposed to protect her, she is supposed to be helpless.

Bruce pays for the other kid’s medical bills and takes her home after she was suspended and oh my she is very much in trouble. It is that type of scene where he scolds her in the car, she is a member of their family now, she has to behave. Damian does not pick fights at school, and he was raised by assassins, so there is no justification that she should either. She is sent to her room and needless to say she is grounded for a very long time.

Seeing as she already spends most of her time in her room in the manor and her mother does not side with Bruce on her actions, it really won’t get the point across. So after some mulling it over, Bruce talks to Dick and she is told that she is going to be staying with Dick in Blüdhaven during the rest of her suspension and probably then some, doing online classes.

The punishment isn’t the fact that she has to stay with Dick but the fact that she won’t have her mom with her. Dick is not as harsh on his little sister, actually getting her to let her guard down and have fun, especially with a little help from Haley. Honestly he understands, her whole life had changed because of them in the blink of an eye, she is not a vigilante in a family full of them, she just is a child and she deserves to be a child instead of just having a bunch of pent of rage and that kid was just the one who popped the lid on the enviable. Honestly for awhile she forgets about a lot her problems with Dick taking her out to see the city during the day and bond with her and tucking her into bed with Haley before he going off on patrols during the night, he doesn’t really need to worry about her running away, he lives in the middle of the city of Blüdhaven, the crime is bad enough that she won’t go running off.

Tim will probably stop by to watch their little sister during the day when Dick has to go into his day job and he is definitely a bit torn up. He certainly is not happy about the fact that do to her actions she is out of the manor until she learns her lesson (not like she wants to be there anyway), but he understands she needs to learn to let her guard down around them so she does not keep her emotions so pent up so this does not happen again. When she starts school work online again, Tim is the one making sure she does it, sending reminders to Dick to check up on her work (he would text her but her phone was taken after she got suspended), or sitting by her when Dick is busy and he is watching her and making sure she is working and helping her out. He is the one who is trying her to break down her walls the most so this can all be over with and she can come back home and…

It doesn’t work that easily.

When she is out at the park with Dick and Tim, taking Haley on a walk after Dick got back from work and before they went on patrol, Dick brought up the idea of family traditions since she must have had some with her mother and since they all are a family now…

“No, we’re not a… you’re not my family.”

Just when they thought they have made so much progress, her hand threatens to slip away from Dick’s grasp, but he squeezes her hand tight and he drags her back to his apartment, Tim trailing closely behind.

Jason is the last to have to deal with this situation after this last incident. He comes to see her while everyone is out on patrol, climbing through the window of Dick’s apartment, taking off his helmet, and sitting down next to her and breaking down for her as much as he can. He knows she does not want to be here and there is no changing the fact that she is not going to be leaving them, if she just pretends to be happy and get along with people things will actually be happier for her, they will never be totally ideal, but they could be flexible if she follows the rules like no fighting at school, let them be older brothers and a father to her, just behave, act her age, and be a part of the family. Just work with them and they will work with her.

She agrees, Jason isn’t one to keep up the delusion, he just does not want to see her hurt anymore, he is a protective yandere by the very definition. Because she agrees he may or may not teach her some self defense moves that Bruce didn’t want her knowing, just to be able to hold her own when need be and not give a kid a bloody nose, if he really deserves that her brothers will take care of it.

(I am also imagining the aftermath of the meeting with the principal, Bruce stressed out and Mother!Darling being like, “hm, maybe she would be a better Robin than your boys-“ “no.”)

[boochanz]

i’m just gonna jump right into this,

rin / @leedonghun is the sweetest, kindest soul and she is dealing with some pretty serious medical issues. she was diagnosed with a brain tumor and the cost of treatment has not been insignificant in the slightest, and she deserves our help.

that said, i’ve moved my shop over to ko-fi and i’m having a pay-what-you-want sale on all of my sticker sheets for the next week. the minimum price set is $0.10 usd— you can pay that, you can pay a dollar, it doesn’t matter and there’s no judgement. every little bit helps and every last cent will be going towards rin. this is the last batch of stickers i will be doing for the foreseeable future! the goal is to reach at least $150, and i will put the first $20 forward.

shipping costs still need to be covered and are now calculated at checkout depending on your location, instead of being paid separately! us shipping is $4.50 flat, canada is $5.50, the rest of the world is $7 usd. this is a pre-order, every item is made to order and i’ll begin printing & shipping at the end of this month!

i have ~18 sticker sheets to choose from (below are just a few) and each order comes with two prints, a carat sticker sheet and a moon triplets keychain! if you can’t afford to buy, please do boost <3

[kurishiri]

Jude chapter 2 silly but kinda detailed summary

꒰ ִ ֺ ⊹ @ notice ⊹ ֺ ִ ꒱ any pretty translation you may see in here may not be 100% accurate or contain creative liberties due to characterization or narrative flow purposes. this is a sort of summary as well. if you enjoy, though, please consider reblogging, but please don’t repost these or claim these as your own!

for some ungodly reason jude and ellis r in kates room the moment she woke up and judes not lookin very appy hes like how long r ya gon sleep for ya bloody pleb and ellis is like haaii gm kate 🌸✨✨ and then jude like “get ready in 3 seconds” while holdin her chin. again, for some reason lmao

ok turns out we goin to their other jobs at a company called raven co

and ellis tells kate they got shops overseas too (wow jude got a boomin business) and they sell stuff in a lotta places and allat jazz. anw some dude greets kate and the others and thinks that kate is ellis gf. kates like umm no and hes like so ur the boss’ gf?

then he gets judes boot before kate can reply and judes like

Jude: It’s all yappin’ with ya so early in the mornin’, I see.

J: If ya gonna yap useless things, how ‘bout ya use that mouth o’ yours to do a bit more o’ your job?

J: If ya want a pay cut though, that’s a separate matter.

turns out the dudes name is theodore walker. 21 y/o. employee. first impression: bright dude

so kate asks ellis what his role is and hes like “hmm lets see, being a guard, preparing for guests, confirming clients, brewing up a storm…” and kate here thinkin wait a damn minute i have a feeling i heard smth real violent just now and then is like do you do anything else and well ellis responds with more violent words with a 😊 face. kate is like i thought i got myself into an evil org then jude comes in like

Jude: Well this evil company’s boss got some work cut out for ya.

she gotta sort out these letters (a loott of letters…) and judes like “if ya worked as a letter carrier ya mustve had to sort out letters before gettin breakfast”

ok so apparently judes kate just blurts out things w/o thinkin 💀 bc this time shes like well if hes gonna make fun of me (jude calls her princess but /neg) then challenge accepted! and then is like “ok bet i will get this done ez pz 🍋 squeezy” and judes got that shit eatin grin on his face like “that ya will do by the time i get back”

they r indeed still in their enemies era. her only saving grace now is ellis’ kind smile. ellis to the rescue! ⛓️🫶✨

omg ellis is actually an angel here he helps kate when he can sorting out letters and hes like gj today kate. you managed to do sm on ur own, u should be proud of urself and kate is like hes so kind… (yes he is!)

ah yes we cant escape the ellis is sweet as jam™️ allegations here

kate asks ellis why he joined crown and tldr its bc vic reached out to jude and jude said ok

Kate: But did you have to get caught up in all this too…?

Ellis: But——he made a promise with me.

As he said this, Ellis’ eyes narrowed softly.

Kate: …A promise?

Ellis: I’m waiting for Jude to reach the happiest moment of his life.

E: And I need to be by his side to see that moment.

[ insert some lines im too lazy to tl here ]

Ellis: But, it seems that moment just doesn’t want to come. …It’s like Jude is always unhappy.

jude comes in the door like yall so damn annoyin and is like stop yappin bout she don’t need to know. but ellis is like but its her job as fairytale keeper. and kate is like “i have a question for u too jude! why do u have ellis by ur side?” jude responds like “none ya damn business” but one tinie push from ellis and jude lets out a resigned sigh and speaks on it and is like hes got physical strength and a good ability. cant let that sorta value slip by. that said his heads got some screws loose so

and kate is like omg! he answered me!!

(So Jude has Ellis by his side so he can use his abilities at his convenience,)

(and Ellis wants Jude to fulfill his wish, I guess?)

They kept one another by each other’s side to help realize what the other wants.

——If I were to put into words what their relationship would be, it would be ‘a contractual relationship.’

That was the day I had gotten my hands on valuable information on Jude for the first time.

ko-fi☕️ ┊ comms🤍

NOTE: i forgot to mention that i can take comms to tl judes main story chapters, avatar mission stories, and his side stories in full, as ciele, the one whos gonna tl his story, said that i could tl chapters from his story too. the turnaround time per chapter is usually around 1–2 days from the time i start it. (for jude it might be closer to 2 days.)

[strnilolover]

NNN - matt sturniolo - family issues

!Warming! : this writing may contain sensitive topics for some people, including family fighting and burn out. please read with caution if family arguments or arguments in general easily trigger you.

You had slammed the cabinet door shut harder than you expected to. Your mothers words cutting your skin like a knife, your patience snapping like a taut rubber band that had been stretched too far. “I can’t believe you just said that.” you gritted, turning to her.

Your mom stood across the kitchen, arms crossed, her eyes narrowed in irritation. “I said what I said. You’re always lounging around, doing nothing, while I’m the one keeping this house together.” she spat out.

“Are you kidding me?” Your voice rose as you turned to face her, incredulous. “I vacuumed the whole house this morning, cleaned the bathroom, and scrubbed the kitchen. I’ve been running around all day trying to keep this place livable while you’ve been sitting on the couch!” your voice raised more — you were irritated and upset.

why can’t she just see how hard you work?

“And yet, the laundry is still sitting in the basket, isn’t it?” she shot back, her tone sharp and cutting. “You can’t even finish one thing properly!” her own hands slammed against the counter as her words left her lips.

Your hands balled into fists at your sides, shaking. “I can’t do everything! I’m one person! You don’t even notice the things I do unless there’s something left undone.” you could feel the tears brimming in your eyes — but you couldn’t let her see she was affecting you, you had to be strong.

“Oh, poor you,” she said, her voice dripping with sarcasm. “Life is so hard for you, isn’t it? You act like you’re doing me some huge favor by cleaning, but you live here too. It’s your responsibility.”

You stared at her, your chest heaving. “Do you even hear yourself? I am doing my part, and then some! You’re the one who doesn’t lift a finger but still complains that nothing’s good enough.” you choked out.

Her face twisted in anger. “Don’t you dare talk to me like that. You have no idea what I deal with every day, keeping this house running and keeping you in it!” she screamed, coming around the counter and getting closer to you,

“Keeping me in it? Are you serious right now?” you echoed, your voice trembling more with disbelief and hurt. “You act like I’m some freeloader who doesn’t contribute. I’m breaking my back trying to help you, and all you do is tear me down!” Your said. “And on top of everything, I worked a full shift this morning. What more do you want from me?”

you were trying, you really were. Did she not see that?

Her scoff was sharp, cutting through the room. “Oh, sure. You do barely the minimum and expect a medal. Maybe if you spent less time pretending to help and more time actually contributing, I wouldn’t have to ask you for money all the time!” she was almost in your face now, you could feel her breath fanning you.

You stared at her, your hands trembling with frustration as you leaned back a little. “Are you seriously throwing that in my face? Every time you ask me for money, I give it to you. Every single time. Do you even know how hard it is to keep my job and still manage everything at home?”

She shook her head. “Don’t act like you’re some kind of saint,” she snapped. “You live here. It’s your responsibility to pitch in. Or do you think you’re entitled to a free ride?”

“I do pitch in! I’m doing everything! I pay bills when you’re short, I clean up after everyone, and I still go to work to make sure I can cover my own expenses. What do you even do besides sit there and criticize me?” you snapped back, leaning forward from your leaned back position — though that might not have been the best idea.

Her nostrils flared as her eyes turned dark, and she jabbed a finger at your chest — the force digging into your skin making you wince slightly. “Don’t you dare take that tone with me. I’ve sacrificed everything for this family, and all I ask is for you to pull your weight.”

“Pull my weight?” you repeated, your body beginning to tremble more from your overwhelmed emotions. “I’ve been carrying this house on my back, and you know it! But sure, let’s pretend I’m the problem. It’s easier for you, isn’t it?” you sniffled slightly, the words barely making it past your lips and you tried to keep it together.

“You know what?” she snapped, throwing her hands up. “If you hate it here so much, then maybe you shouldn’t come back. Go find somewhere else to stay if you think you’ve got it so bad.”

Her words stung, piercing deeper than you expected. “Fine,” you said, your voice cold and steady despite the tears beginning to spill over your waterline. “I will.”

Grabbing your keys and slipping on your shoes, you muttered under your breath, “Maybe you’ll finally notice how much I actually do when I’m not here to do it anymore.”

“Don’t come crying to me when you realize how easy you have it,” she called out as you slammed the door behind you.

The cold night air hit your face, mingling with the tears that spilled over as you made your way to your car. Your hands were shaking so badly that it took three tries to get the keys into the ignition.

You barely registered the drive to Matt’s house, your mind replaying the fight over and over like a broken record. By the time you reached his front door, your tears were coming harder, the lump in your throat so heavy it hurt to swallow.

You hadn’t even raised your hand to knock when the door opened. Matt stood there in sweatpants and a hoodie, his hair tousled like he��d been lying down, but his entire demeanor shifted the moment he saw you. His brows furrowed in concern as his eyes scanned your tear-streaked face.

“Baby,” he said softly, stepping aside to let you in. “What’s wrong?”

As soon as his arms opened, you crumbled into him. The second you felt his warmth and smelled the familiar scent of his cologne — something woodsy and comforting — you broke down completely. Your hands clutched at his hoodie as your sobs wracked your body.

“Hey, hey,” he murmured, wrapping his arms around you tightly. “It’s okay. I’ve got you. Just let it out.”

He gently guided you into the living room, keeping you close as he sat down on the couch and pulled you into his lap. His large hands rubbed soothing circles on your back while his other hand cradled the back of your head.

“I-I can’t do it anymore, Matt,” you finally managed to choke out between sobs. “She doesn’t see anything I do. She doesn’t care. She just — she just keeps tearing me down.”

“Who?” he asked softly, leaning back just enough to look at you. His hand moved to cup your cheek, his thumb brushing away a stray tear. “Who’s tearing you down?”

“My mom,” you whispered, your voice breaking. “She said I don’t do anything, but I do everything. I worked this morning, cleaned the whole house, and then she asked me for money again — like she always does — and still told me I don’t pull my weight. It’s like… no matter how hard I try, it’s never enough for her.”

Matt’s jaw tightened, his eyes darkening with anger. “That’s not fair. You work so hard, and she has no right to treat you like that. I’ve seen how much you do, how much you give. You’re amazing, and if she can’t see that, then that’s on her — not you.” he said, holding you tighter to him.

You sniffled, wiping at your cheeks. “It just hurts, you know? I’ve been trying so hard to keep everything together, and she acts like I’m nothing but a burden.”

“You are not a burden,” he said firmly, tilting your chin up so you had no choice but to meet his gaze. “Do you hear me? You are not a burden. You’re one of the strongest, most selfless people I know. She doesn’t deserve you.” he stated, making sure you knew his words were true.

“But she’s my mom,” you said softly, your voice trembling. “I want to make her proud. I want her to see that I’m trying.” Matt’s expression softened, and he leaned in to rest his forehead against yours. “I know you do. But you don’t have to destroy yourself to earn someone else’s approval, especially hers. You’re enough just as you are, okay? You’re more than enough.”

You let out a shaky breath, fresh tears spilling over, but this time they weren’t just from sadness. There was something in his words, in the way he held you, that eased the tightness in your chest.

“Thank you,” you whispered. He shook his head, “You don’t have to thank me,” he said gently. “That’s what I’m here for.”

He adjusted you in his lap, tucking the blanket tighter around your shoulders before pressing a soft kiss to your temple. “Listen, you’re staying here tonight. No arguments. I’m not letting you go back there like this.” he muttered against your temple.

“I don’t want to go back,” you admitted, your voice barely above a whisper. “Then you won’t,” he said firmly. “This is your home tonight, and for as long as you need it to be.”

You rested your head against his chest, listening to the steady rhythm of his heartbeat. His hand rubbed slow, soothing circles on your back, and his voice was soft when he spoke again.

“You know you’re not alone, right? You’ve got me. Always.”

You sniffled once more. “I know,” you whispered. “I just… I feel so unappreciated sometimes. Like nothing I do matters.” you could feel the self doubt settling into you now — from your mothers words earlier. Were you really not doing a good enough job?

“It matters to me,” he said, his voice steady and sure. “Everything you do matters to me. I see you, and I’m so proud of you. You’re doing more than anyone should ever have to, and you’re doing it so well.”

You looked up at him, your heart clenching at the sincerity in his eyes. “You really mean that?”

He hummed, “Of course I do,” he said, a small smile tugging at his lips. “I’ll tell you as many times as you need to hear it until you believe me. You’re incredible, and anyone who can’t see that is blind.” And a soft laugh escaped you, he grinned, his thumb brushing your cheek. “There she is. There’s my girl.”

You felt your cheeks flush at the nickname, and for the first time all day, the tightness in your chest began to ease. “Do you want to talk more about it, or do you just want to relax?” he asked gently. “Relax,” you said after a moment. “I’m too tired to think anymore.”

“Good call,” he said with a smile, grabbing the remote from the coffee table. “How about something stupidly funny? Or do you want me to cook something for you first? I can make you those pancakes you like.” You shook your head, leaning into him. “Just stay with me.”

“Always,” he murmured, pulling you closer.

He put on some random comedy show, and you both sat in comfortable silence for a while. His hand never stopped tracing lazy patterns on your back, and every now and then, he’d drop a kiss to the top of your head. By the time you started to drift off, your body nestled against his, you felt a little lighter than you had in days.

© strnilolover

a/n : am i self projecting? maybe. but i’m not in that situation anymore and haven’t been for over a year. but please, if any of you are in this kind of situation, know that there is always a way out. don’t be afraid to ask for help. (i also wrote this on the bus without my glasses so i’m so sorry if some parts may not make sense)

[rypnami]

summoning you

characters: leander prewett x house neutral gn!mc word count: 1991 warnings: none! summary: after losing one too many rounds of summoner's court to them, leander becomes suspicious of MC's alleged skill at the game. a/n: for @selenedarling, i LOVED your prompt! i hope you like! this wasn't beta-read but its fine we ball!! ao3 link

“Oh, not again.” MC stomps their foot in frustration as their blue ball slowly rolls off the Summoner’s Court board and thuds into the grass below. Only one of theirs remains on the board, directly in the centre of the 20 point mark. On the other hand, the three red balls are scattered across the board- two on 20, one on 30.

“Aha! I win! I win! Take that!” Leander bounces up and down, throwing his hands in the air. He grins over at MC. “Er, sorry. You, uh, played well, too.” He rubs the back of his neck sheepishly, cheeks going a bit pink. 

If it were anyone else, MC might have cursed them into next week, but they can’t bring themself to be very annoyed at Leander. To be quite honest, he’s cute when he’s excited, and he doesn’t get much more excited than when he wins at Summoner’s Court. “Ah, don’t worry. I’ll beat your ass next time, just you wait.”

Leander snickers. “You always say that, and you always lose. Er. Sorry. Again.”

“We’ll just have to see about that, won’t we?” MC flicks their wand, resetting the board. “Ready for another round?”

“Um, can’t. Have Herbology soon. It’s really good weather today, would be a shame not to take advantage of it for the plants.” He runs his fingers through his hair, mussing it a bit. 

The sun is shining, and there’s hardly a cloud in the sky. Leander is right, it’s perfect weather for tending outdoors, especially with winter only a couple months away. Now is as good a time as any to give the plants some last days of sunshine. Suddenly, MC finds themself regretting having opted out of Herbology this year- it seems like Summoner’s Court is the only time they get to be around Leander anymore, and it’s quite frankly not enough. Letting him win over and over is all well and good, but they’d like to do something with him that doesn’t involve being dishonest, even if it’s only a white lie.

“Sounds like someone is afraid of a challenge,” they tease. 

“Wh-what? No. Well.” He blushes again, looking away. Merlin, where does he get off being so adorable? MC will never understand it. “Perhaps, but I really do have class.”

“Which you’re going to be late for if you don’t hurry up.” Samantha Dale says loudly from beside the game board.

The pair of them jump. “Bloody hell, where did you come from?” Leander gasps, clutching at his chest.

Samantha rolls her eyes. “I’ve been trying to get your attention for the past several minutes, actually. Nice to know you were paying attention.” 

“Ah, who can blame us? We were in the midst of a gripping competition.” 

“I'm sure. You.” Samantha points at Leander. “Come. I will not be late because of you!”

MC frowns. Hmph. What’s she so eager about anyway? “Why don’t you just go ahead?” 

Samantha stares at them. “Because whenever I go it alone, Violet McDowel ends up sitting next to me, and I would rather limit how long I’m around her, frankly. Prewett is a step up, I suppose.”

“Gee, thanks,” Leander mutters, hopping down from the wooden platform. “I feel so loved." He spares MC a last glance, a subtle flush creeping up his neck. “Er. See you later?”

“Yeah, yeah.”

They are not jealous as they watch Leander walk back to the castle with Samantha. It’s perfectly normal and platonic to feel itchy and mildly ill watching your good friend spend time with someone else. Not at all indicative at all of any underlying feelings that MC has definitely not been suppressing since the better half of last year. Nope, just normal everyday things to feel. Definitely. Not like they have a claim on him anyway. He’s perfectly free to hang around whoever he wants, even if it makes MC want to blow up a goblin encampment, just to feel something else. 

⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋅

“MC really is something,” Leander says conversationally. “Great at everything. Except for Summoner’s Court.”

Samantha gives him a strange look. “Yeah… funny, isn’t it?”

“Is it?”

“Well, yes.” They both take their seats next to each other at their potting stations. “You really don’t find it strange that they practically excel in all their classes, they won every Crossed Wands duel for the second year in a row, and also was champion of Summoner’s Court last year? They beat Professor Ronen at his own game, literally.” 

Leander has gone a deep shade of red, so he busies himself poking at the leaves of his Mallowsweet plant in a pitiful attempt to distract himself. “That doesn’t-”

“They stopped a rebellion, destroyed a criminal empire in Hogsmeade, and saved the whole school from a goblin invasion, but they can’t beat you, of all people, at Summoner’s Court?”

“Hey!”

“Just saying,” Samantha shrugs. “It’s all a bit odd.”

As much as he’d like to argue, he knows Samantha has a point. It is odd. MC has never lost at anything else, ever, to the point it’s almost supernatural. From the day they first came to Hogwarts, surviving a dragon attack and then defeating a troll in the village circle, they’ve never been anything but extraordinary. How would they keep losing to him? He’s never been very good at anything at all, especially compared to MC. There’s a voice in the back of his head, almost always whispering that he’s not good enough.

“Oh, Merlin,” He groans, putting his face in his hands as the pieces fall together. “It’s pity. They’re letting me win out of pity because I’m terrible. For the love of-” Leander has never been so embarrassed in his life. It all adds up though, doesn’t it? How could MC ever fail, if not on purpose? Is he really so pathetic? How in the world hadn’t he noticed before someone else pointed it out? His older sister always does tease him for not being the most observant, and he always thought it was just that- teasing. Unfortunately for him, it seems like she couldn’t have been more correct. 

“That might not be it,” Samantha says, gently patting his shoulder and looking mildly distressed. “I- perhaps they really aren’t very good! Probably, er, got rusty over the summer holiday, right?”

It’s appreciated, but her words do little to help. They both know damn well MC is throwing the games on purpose, but the question for him now is why? Why in Merlin’s name would they want to lose to him? 

He’s determined to find out. Grabbing his Mallowsweet in its hand-painted terracotta pot,he gets out of his seat with it. “I’m going to take Mortimer outside for some proper sun.”

“I believe you,” she says flatly.

Leander sticks his tongue out at her as he struts out of the Greenhouses with the plant. He might not be good at Summoner’s Court, but he does know plants, and he knows how much Mortimer likes to feel real sun on his leaves. Would MC think it’s weird that he gives his plants names and personalities? Is it weird? Why does he even care? 

“I’ll get to the bottom of it,” he mutters to the plant. “One way or another.”

He shoves open the castle doors, and spots MC still loitering by the Summoner’s Court board. There’s no other challengers, yet there they are, sat on the edge of the platform and kicking their feet. The way the sun shines down on them, making their eyes sparkle just so… it feels like a whole swarm of lacewing flies have taken flight in his belly. Glad he’s got Mortimer for emotional support (although taking a moment to cringe that he thinks of a plant as support), he walks over to them quickly, before he loses his nerve. 

“Well, look who it is,” MC says with an easy smile, which does not help the flip-flopping of his stomach. “I thought you had Herbology.”

“I did. Er, I do.” Leander clears his throat. “Plants prefer, erm, real sunlight though, and Mortimer here really likes when the weather is so nice, so…” 

MC tilts their head. “You name your plants? That’s sweet.”

“Y-yes. Er, that’s not, erm, the only reason I came back out, though. Um.” Just spit it out, you idiot! “Are you- have you…” He squeezes the pot to his chest, suddenly feeling foolish. Merlin, but he must look like an idiot, holding a plant and hardly able to get a real word out. “Have you been letting me win? At Summoner’s Court, I mean?”

“Uh.” MC’s face seems to go a bit pale. “Um. Would you be particularly upset if I have been?”

“I…” Leander sits next to them, shifting the pot so it rests in his lap. “Not especially. I’d just like to know… why?”

They shrug. “You always seem so happy when you win, you know? Thought I might let you have a few victories.”

“But so many times in a row? You haven’t won a single round in weeks!” 

A silence stretches between them, slightly awkward. “I…” They chew their lip and don’t meet his eyes, which is wholly unlike them. “I dunno, I thought if you kept losing, you wouldn’t want to play anymore.” To avoid looking at Leander, they stare at his plant instead, picking off some of the withered leaves. “I miss spending time with you, is all. We hardly have any classes together anymore, and with Crossed Wands already over for the year, it feels like this is the only place we can really be around each other.”

What what what what what what what WHAT.

“W-we do have some classes together…”

“It’s not the same, though.” They stop fiddling with Mortimer and glance up at him. 

Leander forgets how to form words for a moment. “I- I suppose not.” 

“I…” MC takes a deep, steadying breath. “I really like you, and being around you, and you’re not like anyone else I know, and I just… wasn’t sure how to ask you to… spend time together. More time together.”

“Could’ve just said that,” Leander says with a light chuckle, although it feels like his chest is constricting. They like him? And being near him? How on earth is that possible? “But I do appreciate winning.”

“Oh, believe me, I know.” They elbow him, and he almost drops his plant. “Take that, I win every time, you lose!” They attempt to mimic his voice. Actually, it’s not a bad impression. 

“I really like being around you, too.” 

Now MC is blushing as well, something Leander never expected to see in all his life. Honestly, it suits them. “So, then… would you maybe want to go to the Three Broomsticks tonight? Like… as a date?”

He wants to jump up and down and say yes yes yes a million times yes absolutely as if you even have to ask, but…

“I would really love to, but I can’t tonight, I have to take care of Percy. But you’re welcome to join me in the Greenhouses… as a date. It could be fun!” A first date involving plants sounds like a grand time to Leander.

“Percy?”

“He’s a moonflower. They only bloom at night, but they’re good for potions and such, so… only if you want!” The burst of confidence has already faded, and the tiny voice is back, telling him that it’s just more pity, that MC doesn’t really want to be with him, of all people, and that his idea for a date is stupid. He tells it to shut up.

“I’d be more than happy to. A greenhouse date sounds lovely.” MC gives him that easy smile again, making his knees a bit weak. How are they so amazing? “You know, I always thought of the moon as a woman. Not a man called Percy.”

“Well, yeah, but Percy isn’t the moon, he’s a moonflower, there’s a difference.” 

“Oh, shush, you.”

[sloppysequinz]

My little addict

Summary: mommy observes her pet intox bimbo on a perfect afternoon.

I open the bedroom door to check on her. She doesn’t notice me. I don’t mind. I lean against the door frame to watch for a minute.

She’s sprawled in bed, as usual. Her eyes are transfixed on her computer screen. She robotically brings a bottle of soju to her mouth with one perfectly manicured hand. The other slides down her stomach and between her legs. As her legs spread and her skirt rides up, I see she’s not wearing panties. Good girl. She begins to rub her pretty cunt. I can see from here it’s dripping wet, can hear the squelching, can practically smell her—she’s been edging all day, as expected. She rubs and chugs from the bottle. I appreciate my work. I pay for her acrylic sets, all the nail charms and art, because I like how her long nails look wrapped around a bottle or bong or cock, how they look in her pussy.

As the bottle empties, she pulls her hand away from her cunt with a whine and drops the empty on the floor beside the bed. Looks like this isn’t the first or second or fifth bottle of soju today. I’ll need to restock soon, she’s burning through this stuff faster and faster. Not that I mind. As I ponder what to buy her next, she slumps back into bed and moans. Her perfectly blonde hair spreads across the sheets, framing her like a halo. Her pretty hands slide up her shirt to play with her enormous tits, another gift from me. Her back arches. “Fuuugg I’m *hic* drung…” she giggles to herself.

Well, not really herself. The cam on the dresser broadcasts her all day. Turns out certain folks will pay good money to watch a pretty girl get herself fucked up and edge to nasty porn day after day. After the wave of alcohol washes over her, she stretches and clumsily rolls over to the laptop. She’s typing—probably answering chat and messages, as much as she can with her clumsy fingers and impractical nails. Her brow furrows as she tries to read. She’s adorable. Comprehending one of them, she rolls over and scrabbles in the bedside table before pulling out a package of edibles. I don’t recognize it—one of her online friends must have sent it. She gets so much fanmail these days. She addresses the camera.

“Sho, dese are *hic*…nanos! Dey’re shupposed to hit, like…reeeerally fasht. Whaddya thing?” She watches the replies come in, brow furrowing again. “I knoooow…like *hic* I know you wanna shee me smoooge but, like *hic* mommy saysh no shmoking in the *hic* house…”

Everybody in the chat knows better than to push back against Mommy. I watch a smoke wash over her face as she thinks of me. Beloved Mommy. I’m very lucky.

“Ohgay, howwabout dis? *hic*” she giggles again and shakes the bag at the camera. I can see now that they are in fact nanos, watermelon flavored, 20mg each. “I’ll take one of dese for ebery sub in the next….fibe minutes.” She watches the chat to try and gauge the response as much as her poor little brain can. Seems like it’s positive. I hear the jingle of a new sub almost immediately. She smiles at one message or another.

“Uh huh, I can vape toooo! *hic*” She scrabbles around the bed again until she finds her pen. It’s between her legs. She must’ve dropped it there after a particularly hard hit drove her to edge immediately. She’s well trained, after all. She brings the pen to her plump, shiny lips and breathes in, leaving a little lip gloss mark on the pen. The lip filler, the designer lip gloss—I pay for all that too. She smiles dreamily. “I’ll *hic*…tage a hit…ebery time…I see…hit!” She and I both know that the chat will be spamming hit for the next five minutes at least. She tabs back over to porn and leans back so she can take continuous hits and touch herself, tits and cunt on full display for the camera.

I love her. I love how she gets beautiful and dolled up every morning to get high and drunk and edge in bed for strangers. I love how much she adores her own hedonism, her own pleasure. She’s a pretty pink cloud of a person and she belongs to me.

I decide it’s time to stop watching. I lift myself from my relaxed position and walk into the room. “Hey princess.”

“MOMMY!” She replies. “Mommy Mommy Mommy!” She’s wiggling with joy, pen forgotten, as she gets up on her knees and reaches for me eagerly. I lean down to kiss her and then climb into the bed. As she settles to lean back against my chest, I turn the laptop towards myself and check the chat.

Hit!!

MOMMY SIGHTED

omg cryptid appearance

HIT HIT HIT

Omg it’s mommy!!

Hiiiii mommy!!!

Mommy mommy!

Wait mommy is real?

Be my mommy too…

I smile and turn towards the camera, leaning down to kiss my baby girl first. “Keep hitting your pen, sweetie.” I command. She obeys. As she exhales cloud after cloud, I address the chat, playing with her as I do.

“Thank you for supporting my princess, everyone.” I massage her tits in my hands and she moans and hiccups at the sensation. Another new subscriber ding.

We love princess!

Princess x mommy foreverrrrrr

I want a princess too…

Pinch her nips!!!

Hit hit hit!

I pinch her nipples and she squeals. I laugh. “Come on princess, don’t get distracted from the pen.” She takes another hit and I address the crowd again. “I hear people want to see her smoking?”

YESSSS

SMOKING

smoke her brains away

wanna see her frfr

It would be like soooo hot

“Well, we’re almost at 1000 subscribers.” I muse. “We could schedule a special outdoor smoking and drinking session to celebrate, what do you think?” As she keeps hitting the pen, I slide a hand between her legs to spread her cunt for the camera. She slides a hand down to cover mine. “Aht, aht!” I scold, using my free hand to grab her by the hair. She whines and pulls away, free hand now desperately grabbing my thigh.

OMG OMG OMG

outdoors too…

That would be so hot mommy!!!

DEW IT

Can it be public?

I wanna try and find her outside…

Two more new subscriber dings. “Wow, that’s four edibles, everyone—that’ll be eighty milligrams. Think we can get her to a hundred before the end of five minutes?” I slide my hand over the wetness of her cunt, relishing the heat and the way she whimpers into her pen as she tries to keep hitting it. I tighten the hand in her hair and she whines louder. Her eyes are crossing, and the hand on my leg is getting limp with inebriation or overwhelming desire.

Two more dings in quick succession. “Wow, a hundred and twenty! I knew you could do it, chat!” As celebratory emojis flood the screen, I flip over her open hand. She lets me puppet her freely. I open the bag and count out six gummies into her hand. “There you go, slut” I croon into her ear, just for us. “I can’t wait to see you in thirty minutes.”

She shivers and slowly brings the clumsy hand to her mouth, dumping all the gummies in at once.

FUCK YEAH

We love to see it

Fuck yeah gummy queen 👑

Oh you’re fucked girl x

How fast are nanos supposed to hit?

“How about something to wash it down?” I ask. She nods slowly. I stop rubbing her to reach down next to the bed. There’s an uncracked six pack of Smirnoff ice sitting down there. I hoist it up. “I think these are calling your name, sweetie.” The chat agrees.

ICE HER ASS MOMMY

ICE ICE ICE

omg I can’t believe she had that hidden

Does it count as icing if she finds a whole six at once?

Can she chug all six?

I crack open the first one and hold it to her mouth. She goes to push me away for a second but then thinks better of it and starts swallowing. “Good girl…” I whisper as she lets me pour the whole bottle into her mouth. “Just like that…”

When the bottle is finished, she rolls over to snuggle into me. She looks up at me bleary eyed. “Mama…” her tongue is thick and difficult. “I’m *hic* really…fuggin *hic* drung…”

“I know baby, I love it.” I reply. She giggles. “But mommy has to go back to work.” She begins to whine in protest but I shake my head. “Do you want the BBL or not? Mama needs to pay for it somehow.” She pouts but nods and flops onto the bed, freeing me. Her ass is up for everyone on chat to see. I flip her skirt up to give them a better view and then extricate myself.

“Think you can make her finish these?” I wave the remaining five Smirnoffs at the camera. I don’t have to check the chat, I know they’ll try. I set them beside her on the bed and leave, pausing in the doorway to admire her one more time.

At the end of the day, when she’s too high and drunk to speak, when she’s so desperately horny from hours and hours of edging for strangers that she’ll do practically anything—that’s when she gets what she wants from Mommy. And the afternoon has just begun.

[kybercrystals94]

Come Back (part 5)

Read here on Ao3

<<Previous Chapter | Next Chapter>>

Rated: T | Words: 2109

TECH 

Tech, even for all his difficulty deciphering traditional displays of emotions, can feel the ire rolling off of his brother in waves. “I do not understand why you are angry with me,” he admits, trying to match pace with the cadet who seems determined to stay several steps ahead. 

“It wasn’t your fight, Tech,” Crosshair snaps.

“Your fight is always my fight,” Tech argues. “We are a squad.”

“You are a di’kut!” Crosshair groans, putting his hands to his head and grabbing fistfuls of pale hair. “Hunter is going to kill me.”

“Why?”

“Because I can’t keep my mouth shut, can I? And now look at you!” 

Tech has no ability to look at himself as directed; however, he is aware that he does not look as he did when he and Crosshair left the barracks. He is trying to ignore the obvious crack in the right lens of his goggles, and his injuries likely match Crosshair’s: bruises, swelling, and split skin now covered in bacta patches. The Kaminoan medics had not been pleased when the trainers brought in an entire class of cadets. 

“We will tell him it was my fault,” Tech says.

Crosshair stops walking, grabbing Tech’s arm to make him stop too. “Why would we do that?” 

“It isn’t entirely a lie,” Tech tells him. “After all, you only said what you said because of me.”

“Stop trying to save me, Tech.” Crosshair shoves him. “You don’t always have to be the hero.” 

Tech stares at him. “What?” 

“I made my choice,” Crosshair hisses, shoving him again, hard. “You shouldn’t have to pay for it.” 

“Why are you doing this?” Tech asks. “Why are you pushing me away? Why won’t you let me help you?” 

Crosshair lunges forward, catching the front of Tech’s uniform shirt in his fists, pulling him close, and snarls, “I didn’t ask for your help. I told you to run. Plan 88. Did you hear me? Plan 88!” 

“Plan 88? What is Plan 88?” Tech tries to pull away, prying at Crosshair’s grip with shaking fingers, frightened by the sheer hatred in his brother’s voice. He’s never been scared of Crosshair. Not until…

And then Crosshair isn’t a cadet anymore. He is in the Empire’s armor. The Empire. Order 66. 

“Crosshair,” Tech gasps out, and he wraps his desperate, trembling fingers around his brother’s wrists instead. “We’re coming for you. We’re coming!” 

“I didn’t ask you to,” Crosshair reiterates, but some of the hatred has leaked out. “I didn’t ask you to die.” 

“I’m not dead,” Tech tells him. 

Crosshair tips his head. “You look dead to us.” 

Tech wakes gasping for breath, Crosshair’s voice raw and sharp still echoing in his ears. He moves to sit up, and while his entire body protests the movement, he doesn’t care. The pain means that he is awake. That he is alive. That he isn’t dead. 

You look dead to us. 

“Tech?” Kandria is standing a few meters away from him, her arms wrapped around a bundle. “Are you alright?” 

“I’m fine,” he tells her, but his voice betrays him. He swallows and glares down at his hands still trembling in his lap. 

“Okay,” Kandria says. She steps closer. “I brought you some clothes. Real clothes, that is.” She sets the stack on the cot beside him and lifts the top article. She holds it reverently, her thumbs brushing over the heavy, knitted material. “This sweater was my father’s.” 

“Thank you,” he tells her, and he hopes she can hear the depth of his sincerity. 

“Do you need help?” she asks, replacing the sweater to the stack. 

“I think I can manage,” Tech says, offering a thin smile. 

Kandria nods. “I’ll come back in a few minutes then with your breakfast. And Uncle Garo wants me to make a list of the parts you’ll need to build a transmitter radio.” 

“Excellent. Thank you, Miss Kandria.” 

The use of her name seems to surprise her, and she grins. “You’re welcome, Tech.” 

He waits until she has left the room before attempting further movement. He examines the clothing. The trousers look like they will be too wide and too short; however, they are in far better shape than his blacks. The sweater is softer than he anticipated. It is mostly dark blue, but the collar, cuffs and hem are edged in an earthy yellow design.

It takes him far longer to change than he would like, and it makes him realize just how far he will need to come in his recovery before he is in any position of escaping himself, let alone with the girl in tow. He knows that he will not be allowed to freely make contact with his brothers, let alone simply leave. 

There is a tentative knock.

“I am done,” Tech calls out. 

The door slides open and Kandria comes in with a flimsi notebook and a bowl of something that somehow smells both savory and sweet. He is sitting on the edge of the cot, and Kandria sits next to him, handing Tech the bowl. 

“It’s porridge,” she tells him, then whispers, “My own special recipe.” 

Tech takes a tentative bite and is pleasantly impressed. “It is surprisingly good.” 

“Thanks,” Kandria says, smiling. 

Tech continues to eat while Kandria draws little doodles on the edges of the flimsi.

“Crosshair is your brother with enhanced eyesight, isn’t he?” she asks suddenly. 

Tech nearly chokes on the bite he was swallowing. “Pardon?” he asks, although he knows exactly what she said; he just needs a moment to compose himself. 

“You said his name in your sleep,” Kandria explains. “You sounded so sad. Did something happen to him too?” 

“Too?” Tech echoes. 

“Well, something happened to you,” Kandria says, as though it is obvious. 

And it is.

“Oh,” Tech says.

“You don’t have to tell me if you don’t want to,” Kandria tells him gently. “I just know sometimes it helps to talk about things when you’re sad. But not always.”

Tech stirs at the remnant remains of his porridge. “Crosshair is a prisoner of the Empire. We were trying to get information as to his location when…when I fell.” 

“Your other family was with you?” Kandria asks.

Tech nods, because the words catch in his throat. 

“So they think you are dead.” It isn’t a question. There is no question. Who could survive such a fall? Tech isn’t even sure how it is possible…and he was there…is here…

You look dead to us.

“I’m sorry,” Kandria whispers. 

Tech clears his throat. “I will not be lost forever, and neither will Crosshair,” he tells her firmly, because verbalizing it might somehow make it true. 

Kandria nods, and there is a certainty to the action that Tech appreciates deeply. He wants to tell her that he intends to take her with him, that he will not leave her behind; however, he isn’t yet sure how she would take such information, if it would be well received. She is not safe here, and her uncle does not deserve to have her in his care. It is in her best interest that she be rescued. Victims don’t always realize. 

“I suppose we’d better get started on this transmitter then,” Kandria says.

KANDRIA

“Why don’t clones have normal names?” 

Jaunt laughs. “What’re you talkin’ about, kid? You saying my name ain’t normal?” 

“Yes,” Kandria tells him unabashedly.

“Rude,” Jaunt huffs, but the grin on his face tells her that he isn’t actually mad. She doesn’t think she’s ever seen him mad. “You know, my name wasn’t always Jaunt. We used to have to go by our CT numbers. Still do on official documents and all that; however, unlike you natborns, we get to choose our names…or at least get given a name by our brothers that matches our charming personalities.” 

Kandria smiles. “Did you pick your name?” 

“Nope! It was given to me by one of my batchmates. We did a training exercise where we had to go on a thirty-six standard hour hike off-world. Afterwards, I said, sarcastically of course, ‘Well, that was a nice little jaunt.’” Jaunt uses both hands to indicate himself. “And just like that, my name was born.” 

“Do you like your name?” 

“Not at first. I was hoping for something more hardcore like Droid Slayer…but it’s grown on me.” 

“What name would you give me, if I were a clone?” Kandria asks. 

Jaunt stops walking to look down at her thoughtfully. “You want a clone name?” 

Kandria nods eagerly. 

“Well, then, you’ll have to earn it,” Jaunt tells her, then turns on his heel and continues on his patrol. 

Kandria gapes after him for a moment before jogging to catch up. “How?”

Jaunt shrugs. “I don’t make the rules, kiddo, I just follow them.” 

“Will you tell me when I earn it?” 

“‘Course I will. You can bet your bottom credit I’ll have a clone name picked for you by the end of the war.” 

Kandria grins and wonders what her clone name will be.

“Can you tell me about your name?” Kandria asks. 

Tech does not look up from the wire he is stripping. “What do you mean?” 

Kandria hesitates, then rephrases her question. “Did you pick your name or did your brothers?” 

“Ah,” Tech says. “Our names more or less identify with our enhancements. They are rather obvious.” 

“Oh.” Disappointed by the short answer, Kandria continues stripping her own wire, carefully following Tech’s example. 

Tech hums thoughtfully. “You seem well acquainted with clone culture.” 

“I was friends with a clone trooper,” Kandria says. “He told me a lot.” 

“What was his name?” 

Kandria hesitates. “Jaunt.” 

“I assume his name has a humorous backstory,” Tech comments. 

“When he was a cadet, he called a thirty-six hour training hike a ‘nice little jaunt’.” Kandria is surprised at how nice it feels to talk about him. 

Tech chuckles. “That reminds me of my brother Echo…he was not originally a member of our squad; however, his name was similarly acquired. He had an unfortunate habit of echoing information to his original squad. He still does, if I am being honest.” 

“Echo,” Kandria says. “That’s a nice name.” 

“He was not always fond of it,” Tech says. “But he seems pleased with it now.” 

Kandria laughs. 

“Our sister, Omega, was named like a natborn in a way,” Tech continues. “As far as I am aware, she was decanted with that name. You and Omega will get along well, I think.” 

Kandria nearly drops the wire and blade in her hands, turning to look up at Tech. He has gone still as well, his dark eyes wide. “Ah,” he says, almost to himself, and she hears him swallow. He puts down the wire. “That is…I think that if the two of you ever met, you would get along.” 

A question burns on Kandria’s tongue, one she hadn’t even dared to hope to ask, hadn’t even considered a possibility. “You’ll take me with you?” Her voice comes out as a breathless whisper. 

She isn’t sure Tech heard her until he gives a single nod, a lift and drop of his head. “That is the plan.” 

“The plan,” Kandria echoes, and she feels the thrill of terrified excitement. 

“I have not been given the impression that you are safe or happy with your uncle and cousins,” Tech says, and his voice is quiet, even though they both know that the men in question are away from the warehouse. 

“My father would not have wanted me with them,” Kandria says, moving her eyes to the floor. “Jaunt tried to protect me, but…he couldn’t forever.” 

Tech nods again. “I know that it is a lot to ask, but I hope you will trust me.” 

Impulsively, Kandria drops her wire and grasps his now empty hand, gripping it tight. “I do!” she insists. 

Tech looks surprised by the sudden contact, but he does not pull away. “It will not be easy,” Tech tells her, “and there are risks.” 

Kandria nods. “I know.” 

“Good,” Tech says. “Then I can count on your discretion? We must not give Garo any reason to believe we have any sort of scheme.” 

Kandria nods again. 

Tech’s hand until this moment has been slack in hers; however, now, he curls his fingers around hers and squeezes briefly before pulling away. “I will give you information as you need it; otherwise, it is safer that you remain in the dark.” 

“Okay,” Kandria agrees, even if she longs to ask more questions. She does trust him. She has to trust him. 

Because there is no one else left in the galaxy for her to trust. 

Until now. 

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[lovingbini]

the warmest human pillow

pairing: changbin x reader | idiots to lovers, light angst, pretty fluffy overall | warnings: stress from studying | a/n: gotta hide because my bestie didn't want me to post this in bullet style BUT that's all i got for now. love you, baby!!! promise the next will be written properly!!

ok, so you and changbin work together at a hostel in exchange for a room

changbin is the owner's nephew, but he's kind of an assistant manager around the place

you work part-time at the front desk

for the rest of the day you lock yourself in your room to study for a big project you're going to apply soon

your dynamic with changbin is kind of random since you don't give him much attention

yet he’s always acting silly around you

well, that changed since he caught you paying a girl to answer a test for you

since then he wouldn't stop coming through the reception with a knowing smirk plastered on his beautiful face

one day you got tired of it, "got something to tell me?"

he goes, "oh no, i'm alright. i guess you have something to tell that company"

and as soon as you got up from your chair, his aunt called him outside

he walked through and winked

two days later, when you thought you were left alone by him

he calls you after the staff meeting

"i need a favor"

"why would i do anything for you?"

"well, i've got proof of someone cheating on a super important test for a project application..."

"okay, alright. just tell me what you want."

you noticed how his smirk turned into a hesitating expression

"you remember my brother, right? he left for uni last week."

"yeah, he's a nice guy. i knew he could do it."

"me too. the thing is, our room has a lot of space. auntie stated that if i don't find anyone to share, she's going to make it available to rent."

you nodded, "but i'm okay with my room, i don't need more space."

"the second thing is that i'm having trouble sleeping alone. i used to have my brother as a safe place for personal reasons..."

"wait, you want to share the bed with me?!"

he started to nervously play with his hands

"yes, but just at night... you can have the room to yourself the rest of the day, i promise it's much more comfortable than the one you rent right now."

"if you start with some creepy behavior i'm going to ruin your life."

then you agree

in the first night, changbin watched you getting comfortable with your body pillow

he suggested, "you can cling on me, i don't mind"

"yeah thanks, just stay where you are"

but in the middle of the night, you feel him restless near you

“is this what your brother had to put up with? i thought company would help you”

you don’t see changbin awkward smile in the dark

“well, he actually cuddled me, so…”

“what? are you serious?” with his silence, you question, “changbin, please don’t tell me this is the only way you’re able to sleep”

silence again, then a mumble, “i’m really sorry, it’s something i’m working on therapy”

now you’re the quiet one, biting your lips in deep thought

“alright, i won’t pressure you about it, just know i’m the big spoon and that won’t change”

you take the body pillow that separated your bodies and pull him closer

changbin shudders when he feels your arm around his waist, his back against your chest

“is this okay?”

“it’s nice”

“great, now let me sleep, tomorrow’s going to be a long day”

changbin tries to hold the biggest smile on his face, although he didn’t have to

the alarm goes off in the morning, you find yourself with a leg thrown over changbin’s, who’s now on his back

he’s basically your realistic body pillow, but much more comfortable and warm

you feel his soft skin where his clothes don’t reach

you almost feel like not leaving the bed at all, but the alarm goes off one more time

(strategy to make sure you wake up)

unfortunately, the noise woke up the fluffy human pillow under you as well

“morning, sorry for waking you up like this”

“it’s okay, i overslept, to be honest”

he doesn’t tell you it’s been a while since he slept so well

the two of you exchange glances, somehow waiting who’s getting up first

even you are surprise to not be the one sprinting away from him

not wanting to cause any more bother, changbin moves away

you convince yourself that the cold air that hits you it’s because of the blanket that slipped a little, not because of the lack of his warmness

the days go by with the usual stress

both of you take care of the hostel by day, then find comfort in each other by night

none of this is weird at all, since you’re always too tired to argue

changbin’s not that bad as well

his silly antics decrease when he realizes how quiet and serious you get when focusing on the project

one fine afternoon he catches you crying in front of your laptop screen

the exam for this stage of the project is even more difficult, and yet you can’t go through that freaking subject

the one you pay the girl to do for you

but she wasn’t available that week, so you ended up in a crisis, wondering why on earth you couldn’t get that through your brain

“listen, breathe for me, okay? let’s get yourself together first,” he guides you patiently

when you feel able to focus on him again, he puts one hand over your cheek

the warm feeling is familiar, working like some kind of anchor

“i can’t do the test for you, but we can study together. how long do we have?”

“two weeks only”

“two weeks are enough, let’s just work hard, alright?”

you just stare at him, trying to process how you got to this point of intimacy

the point of making you feel like hugging and kissing him till you both are out of breath

“okay, let’s do it”

changbin nods, scanning your face with a small smile

“i find this mole under your eye the cutest thing, you know?”

you put a hand over his – the one still on your cheek

“you’re not subtle with your pretty words and pretty eyes, okay?”

“oh? i mean, it’s all part of a plan, to be honest”

“talk to me”

“a study break, our bed, some cuddles, some kisses, if you’re interested. then more cuddles, maybe more kisses…”

“okay! i’m in! no more convincing!”

you get up and run straight to the bed, hearing his giggles echo through the room

your hearts now heavy only with one knows by love and joy

[peachdues]

ok now goodnight

Even before he bothers to look up, Sanemi knows Rengoku’s overlarge eyes have singled him out. “Shinazugawa? You’ve had some face-to-face with Kocho’s clients, right? They know you.”

“I don’t think Kocho’s regulars will wanna do business with the guy who smashes their shins when they don’t pay.” Uzui’s eyes scan the row of solemn faces before settling on a pair of blank blue eyes and unruly black hair. “Tomioka, can you handle that?”

“Tch,” Iguro scoffed. “Do that and we’ll lose money.”

Sanemi snorts his agreement. There’s a reason the dull-faced waste of brain matter was schlepped off to handle the City’s robust gambling addiction: it offered the least amount of face-to-face with the public. Perfect, for someone like Tomioka, who had no social skills to speak of.

“It wasn’t just the drugs that brought in that amount of cash; it was Kanae. She knew how to sell to people.” Sanemi nods his head toward Tomioka. “He couldn’t sell a fire extinguisher to the fuckin’ fire department.”

Coming from someone like Sanemi whose unannounced appearance routinely made his clients piss their pants, that was saying something.

The group titters in agreement, and the raven-haired Hashira’s sullen expression only sours. “I can do it.”

Another round of eye rolls and poorly concealed snorts from Iguro and Sanemi. Even Rengoku can’t hide his own doubt, his thick eyebrows drawing together.

Uzui sighs. “Until we have a better option, this is what we’ve got. But Shinazugawa was right — Kocho was effective within her market. We’ll all have to keep an eye out for someone who can match that energy.”

That ever-present knot in Sanemi’s gut tightens. Already they’re thinking about replacements — another life for the Corps use up until nothing remained.

“Still don’t know who killed them, then?” Sanemi asks quietly, because no one else will. Beside him, Iguro shifts his weight.

Uzui’s eyes darken. “I’ve got a lead. I’m pursuing it.”

At least there’s that, Sanemi decides, so he doesn’t push the issue any further. Kanae will be remembered long enough to be avenged, and then she too, will be forgotten. Not because of any malice anyone holds toward her, Sanemi knows that. It’s just the way things run here. The Corps can’t afford to waste time mourning those who die in its service. The machine has to spur on, and it’s up to them to find new parts when the old ones shit out.

No one mentions her sisters, or the fact they were children and innocent. Incidentals, Sanemi supposes. Just new marks to add to the never-ending tally of casualties. It was the same with Masachika, when he died. No one spared him a thought beyond the need for retribution. No one cared about his death, save for the vacancy he’d left behind within their ranks. Sanemi hadn’t even finished wiping away the tears he knew better than to shed before he was offered up on a silver platter to fill it.

[unavailableapple]

Excuse me for coming to your askbox, I am not a radfem and don't agree with a lot of it's principles, yet I find radfem spaces are the only place where discussion of nonbinary identity has any nuance. Personally I have no problem with people doing whatever they want with their own bodies/minds/labels but I did struggle to wrap my head around just how many people started IDing as nonbinary during the last few years. Now recently it's been a bit of the opposite, with a noticeable amount of previously out and proud nonbinary people dropping the label. I've heard some people discuss it like it was just "in fashion" for a while, while others insist it's a result of gender experimentation or having to go back in the closet due to the political climate. But it's not just the young, I noticed that includes some of the first nb people I knew, who were nonbinary before 2020, hell, before 2015. I know you had a similar experience, so I just wanted to hear your opinion on this whole phenomenon, why it's happening and why now, and if you expect the trend to continue?

So I’ve been thinking about this a lot and honestly the short answer is: I’m not sure.

The long answer:

I think that these things come in waves. Think about BBL surgery (Brazilian butt-lift surgery). When that surgery was really popular, I’m sure it felt like a very real need to the women who got it. Similarly, my nonbinary identity felt very real to me. But once you apply any amount of pressure to either of these, they start to break. Because really what does it mean to be nonbinary? Why do I NEED to express myself as nonbinary? Why does she NEED to have a large posterior? Eventually you realize, it is misogyny. That’s all it is. And then the whole thing falls apart…Aside from that, even if you don’t acknowledge the misogyny, these things are ultimately superficial and, as such, fall away once one reaches a certain point of adulthood.

I don’t mean adulthood as in becoming an adult human I mean adulthood as in a certain level of struggle that makes fanciful discussions of pronouns seem taxing. Eventually real life catches up and you don’t feel like wasting your precious free time thinking about whether you use they, she, he, or meow pronouns. I think the lasting effects of COVID have meant terrible things for the general public and a lot of people are struggling to pay rent or afford food. I know that what first made me stop caring about pronouns was when I was homeless and thought a lot more about finding a safe place to sleep than making sure everyone calls me he/meow/it pronouns.

Then I think there’s the climate of the trans community right now. When I was younger, there was an idea of, “Being trans is equally hard for males AND females”. But now the dominant narrative seems to be that trans identified males have it a thousand times harder being trans and trans identified females face no oppression at all. I do think this drives more trans identified females out of trans spaces and leads them to find more community with other women. This was the case for several of my friends. Once the trans community told them, “You don’t face any oppression” even though they did (by right of being female), they stopped feeling aligned with a nonbinary identity and suddenly realized they felt more aligned with being female, on the basis of shared experiences.

Finally, it could genuinely just be that it’s falling out of fashion. I’m of an era where I, like a lot of young women my age, was the froggy jumper round glasses meow/it pronoun using boyflux aligned aroace nonbinary person and that was in style. Nowadays kids on TikTok make fun of that and it’s much less “in”. Recently Mitski cut her hair short and people started calling her “theyfab”. For the uninitiated, theyfab is a rude term the trans community uses for a female person who identifies as nonbinary, especially if she doesn’t do anything to express this nonbinary identity beyond cutting her hair. They were not trying to “affirm” Mitski, they were making fun of her for being a gender nonconforming woman, and they were making fun of the women who identify as nonbinary. No matter what, it’s always “in” to make fun of women so if a lot of women are identifying as nonbinary, it’s going to be “in” to make fun of them and it is. On pinterest, Nonbinary identities are already being relegated to “2010s nostalgia” the way moustache tattoos on pointer fingers are “2000s nostalgia”, these things come and go.

So yeah, I ultimately don’t know, and these are only a couple among my many many MANY different theories. But based on my own experience and the experiences of people I know, this is what I’ve been thinking.

[jiyoos]

the relationship between you and the regulars at ur job….. like okay let me work a little harder for you…. you only get the Pristine lettuce…. all extra toppings and here’s an extra ranch…. oh i put a free brownie in the bag btw…. i missed you so much. where the hell have you been ? now i stand and talk to you for 20 minutes like im ur bff 😭 why

[messangerforthestars]

“We need more morally gray characters” you guys can barely handle topaz and jade.