#so i could probably just mind my own business

[sourcherryandsprinkles]

Rafe was so hot this season. Need more of him plsss Can you do Topper sister reader getting caught touching herself and then they start sexting and she ask him to fuck her? reader is 18, of course!

I have a few more Rafe requests in the work. Please keep them coming, I miss this man (and JJ!!)

Warnings: 18+, smut, brother’s best friend, sexting, daddy kink, protected p + v, 

—

Rafe never bought your sweet and innocent bullshit you put up in front of people. He knew that under your appearance, under the preppy clothes, the big doe eyes and the angelic laugh, you were anything but innocent. 

Him and Topper have been friends for over ten years, and have been hanging out almost everyday. He watched you grow two feet taller, and when your little girl body turned into a woman’s. He saw you. He studied you. 

It wasn’t until that afternoon the boys came back from the golf course that Rafe had his confirmation. Topper told him to use your bathroom since the main one was being reconstructed, thinking you weren’t home, but when Rafe walked into your room, he saw you naked on your bed, humping your pillow. It wasn’t just any pillow. It was the one with the face on it — a pillow pet, you had called it. The nose of the turtle was rubbing perfectly on your clit, drawing out the softest whimpers and mewls. 

He watched for a few seconds in silence as you rocked down on the pillow back and forth, a smirk curling on his lips. 

‘’Having fun here?’’ he said in a teasing tone, snapping you out of your bubble.

‘’What the fu—’’ You turned around, startled, and saw Rafe standing in your doorway. ‘’Rafe! What are you doing in my room?’’ 

‘’Just needed the bathroom,’’ he explained. His eyes trailed down your body, seeing it for the first time. ‘’Didn’t know you were busy.’’

You threw a plushie at him, hitting him square in the chest. ‘’Get out!’’ 

Rafe laughed and obeyed, closing the door behind him. ‘’If you want to do some naughty things and not get caught, you should lock the door.’’ 

୨୧˖⁺‧₊˚♡˚₊‧⁺˖୨୧

Since that afternoon, Rafe couldn't help but shift his eyes to you whenever you were around. Now that he knew what was underneath the skirts and girls tops, his imagination had free rein. He was careful, though, making sure your brother never caught on —Topper would kill him if he knew the things he was thinking about you. He made it crystal clear to Rafe and Kelce: you were off-limits.

You didn’t care about your brother’s rule though. Rafe was your brother’s hot best friend. Every girl in Kildare was begging to get in his pants — and now you got it too. But it didn’t cross your mind until the other day when he walked in your room. Maybe it was because you’d always known him, seen him as a kind of second big brother. But now? That image had changed, and there was no going back.

One evening, Rafe was hanging in his bedroom, ready to go out with nowhere to go since Kelce had bailed on him for a Tinder hook up. The asshole. Rafe was annoyed, but there was nothing he could say to make Kelce choose beers over sex. To be fair, He would choose sex too.  

He had texted Topper, but he was at Ruthie’s, which meant Rafe was completely on his own tonight. He’ll probably smoke a bit of weed and watch some porn later, a cozy evening. But Wheezie was still home and Rafe promised her he had quit smoking. 

As he waited, his phone buzzed on his bed where he left it. Rafe picked it up, confused when he had received a picture from an unknown number. It was a faceless girl in a delicate sheer pink cami, and her tits looked fantastic. He frowned as he typed ‘who’s that?’. Must be a mistake.

A reply came five seconds later.

You: You don’t recognize my tits Rafey?

Instantly, he knew it was you. It was a nickname you gave him when you were younger. No one but you called him that — Rafey. 

Rafe: How did you get my number?

You: Stole it from Top’s phone 🤭

Rafe: Naughty girl 

You: Did you like it?

Rafe: Like what?

You: My pic! 📸

You: [picture attached]

It wasn’t the same picture. Not exactly. This time, your sheer cami was pulled up and your tits were completely out. 

Rafe cursed and ran a hand through his hair. How did that happen? It was clear that you sent this picture with the intention of initiating something with him. But why was this happening now? What made you go and send him a picture of your tits tonight? You never flirted with him before, or showed signals that you were interested. 

He reached down to rub himself over his pants as he typed a reply. 

Rafe: Fuck those are nice 🥵 

You: They’re cold…🧊❄️ Can you come warm them up? 

Rafe had to do a double take when he read your message to make sure he hadn’t misread it. Can you come warm them up? It was right there on his phone screen. He looked down at his pants, tented and tight, and groaned. He wasn't sure if he should go through with this or not. Did he want to go to you? Absolutely. Should he break his best friend’s trust for a good fuck? 

Rafe: As long as you warm me up too. 

He sent a picture of his tented pants, which he was incredibly hard under.

You: Waiting for you 💕 

 ୨୧˖⁺‧₊˚♡˚₊‧⁺˖୨୧

When he arrived, Rafe turned off the truck’s headlights and made sure the neighbors didn't see him. The lady that lived in front of the Thornton house was a country club member and loved to spread gossip around. It wasn’t unusual for him to be at the Thornton’s, but Topper’s truck was not in the driveway. 

The last thing he needed was her spying through her curtains. 

You were sitting on your bed in a pair of panties your mom didn’t know you owned and your pink cami, waiting for Rafe to show up. Tannyhill was seven minutes away, he shouldn’t be long.

‘’Hi, Rafey,’’ you greeted with the most innocent smile and doe eyes.

Rafe shook his head, tsking. ‘’Uh, uh. Don’t play that game with me.’’ 

Your lips curled into a smile. ''Took you long.''

He rolled his eyes. ‘’What’s the hurry? Are your parents coming home soon?’’ 

You shook your head. ‘’I’m just so fucking horny.’’ 

Rafe laughed out loud. He never heard you speak like that, so raunchy and bold. 

You stood on your knees and lifted your cami off, leaving you topless. Your nipples were peaked and pretty, as if greeting Rafe. ''Are you gonna come and warm them up?''  

No need to ask twice. Rafe pulled you onto his lap and put his large hands on you, groping and playing with your tits. His calloused fingers kneaded into the soft flesh expertly. He found your hardened nipples, pinching and rolling them between his thumbs and forefingers, causing you to whimper at the sensation. 

‘’You like when I give your tits attention, uh?’’ he murmured, his breath hot against your skin.

You nodded, shifting so your needy cunt would come in contact with Rafe’s rock hard erection. He noticed what you were trying to do, and a smirk played on his lips before he attached them to your neck. 

‘’Can't get enough?’’ Rafe asked between kisses. ‘’Didn’t know you were such a needy little thing.’’ His hips rocked up into yours, grinding his thick cock against your clothed cunt. 

The friction sent sparks of pleasure shooting through your body, making you whimper and cling to his shoulders. ‘’Rafe.’’ 

‘’I'm going to fuck this sweet cunt until you can't walk straight,’’ he promised darkly, nipping over the sensitive spot where your pulse raced, making you gasp and arch into him. 

You’ve thought a lot about Rafe touching you these past days. You knew from overheard conversations with the boys — and talks around the island — and that he was experienced, that he knew how to please a girl. He had a reputation. And goddamn he didn’t disappoint. 

One of his hands left your breasts to slide down your stomach, slipping beneath the waistband of your panties to rub over your folds...which were slick with arousal. Rafe groaned. ''Fuck, you're already soaked.'' He rubbed slow circles over your clit, feeling how swollen it had gotten. ''Did you grind on that turtle of yours before I arrived? Turtles are an endangered species or some shit, can’t torture them like that.’’ 

A laugh bubbled out. ‘’Rafe…’’ 

‘’What?’’ 

‘’Don’t want you to make me laugh. Want you to fuck me,’’ you said, looking right into his blue eyes. 

Rafe raised an eyebrow, holding your gaze. ‘’You want my cock, babygirl? Want me to fill this pussy up real good?’’ His fingers dipped lower, teasing your entrance before pushing inside. 

Your walls clenched around him. 

‘’Rafe…’’ you whined again. 

‘’Okay, okay.’’ He kissed your jawline sweetly, then removed his hand from your panties and swiftly stripped them down your legs. ‘’Might keep these as a keepsake,’’ he joked, holding your lacy thong.  

If you hadn’t been so horny, you would have argued with him to get it back — you didn’t have many and you really liked this pair  —, but all you could think about was the beast in Rafe’s pants pounding into you and making you scream. He could get you on your fours like a dog or fold you like a little pretzel if he wished. 

You just needed him.

You reached for his belt and worked to unbuckle it, but Rafe pushed you back and told you to bend over your vanity. His request surprised you, but you complied. The cool air on your wet cunt made you shiver. You never tried that position before. 

You could hear the sound of Rafe undressing — the rustling of fabric, the undoing of a zipper and the clinking of his belt buckle on the floor. You wanted to look at him — at his cock, more precisely —, but he was already behind you, a hand on your back, making you lean down lower, and nudged your legs further apart. 

The air leaked out of your lungs in a squeaky rush when he pressed the tip, gently tearing through your tight walls. The sensation had you gripping the edge of your vanity. 

‘’You okay, baby?’’ he asked with genuine concern in his voice. 

You nodded. ‘’Y-yeah.’’ 

Once the first uncomfortable thrusts passed, you forgot about the initial pain and felt the pleasure flow through your body. Rafe gripped your hips tighter, fingers digging into your soft skin as he picked up pace. The vanity creaked, a rhythmic beat that matched your increasingly frantic movements.

Your tightness enveloped him like a vice as he pounded into you mercilessly. Christ, you felt incredible. Each deep stroke dragged a gasp from your lips, and he reveled in the sounds of pleasure you made.

''You feel so fucking good, baby,'' he grunted, gripping your hips and digging his fingers into your soft flesh. ''Is this what you wanted when you stole my number through Topper's phone? For me to fuck your tight cunt?'' 

Tears were pricking your eyes, your mouth hanging open while wanton sounds kept spilling out. ''Yes, Daddy!'' you uttered out.

The word slipped without noticing, sending a jolt straight to Rafe’s cock, making him throb inside you. ‘’That's it, baby,’’ he growled, even more turned on. ‘’Let Daddy know how much you love being fucked.’’

He pistoned into you harder, the force causing your breasts to bounce with each thrust. The obscene slapping of skin against skin echoed through the room, adding to the soundtrack of your other sounds. It looked like a scene straight from a spicy booktok romance.

Rafe brought a hand around your neck, forcing you to look up. “Look at yourself.”

You lifted your eyes to the reflection in the mirror. It was a view that was erotic. Seeing yourself nude and flushed along with him, and feeling it at the same time was nearly mesmerizing. The look on your face was hazy, strained, and blissful, eyes half-lidded and lips parted. You locked eyes with Rafe through the mirror, and he kissed below your ear.

Behind you, sweat was sticking to Rafe’s smooth chest, but he didn't slow down. He must have really good stamina. You locked eyes with him through the mirror, and he kissed below your ear. 

‘’Are we putting on a good show?’’ he asked, his voice hoarse and low. His words made your cunt clench around Rafe like a vice. He threw his head back with a groan, his whole body tightening. ''Fuck, you're gonna cut my blood flow if you keep squeezing me like that.''

You wanted to stop, but you couldn’t. You had lost all control of your body, gasping and clenching and rutting hard against Rafe until you came with a drawn-out moan. You shivered through your orgasm and Rafe's steady thrusts. 

When he started to shake, you swallowed hard and found your voice. ‘’Come on, Rafey. Fill me up. Cum deep in my pussy, Daddy!’’ 

That pushed him over the edge, his whole body spasming, cock forced all the way in and filling up the condom. Your chest heaving, trying to catch a breath as he rode out the high, grunts and groans leaving his lips. 

You've never heard anything sexier. 

When he was finished, Rafe pulled out and stepped back, leaving alone on your wobbly legs. You started to lose balance, and quickly grabbed the vanity's edge.

‘’Shit, you good?’’ Rafe asked, his tone hovering between concern and smug satisfaction.

You gave a small nod. You just needed to sit. 

His eyes scanned slowly down your body. ''Fucked you that good, uh?'' he said with a smirk, teasing. 

You shot him a playful glare, going to sit on your bed. ‘’Fuck you, Cameron.’’ 

Rafe laughed as he removed and tossed the condom in your trash. ‘’Just did, Princess.’’ 

God. Could he be more exasperating?

He checked on the way back, reading something that made him frown. ‘’Eh, I gotta go.’’

‘’Now?! We just fucked.’’ 

Although this was a casual fuck and that it’s usually how it ends, you didn’t want him to leave right after. You didn’t expect him to cuddle, but you had hoped he would stay a little. To talk or watch something on Netflix. 

Rafe dressed quickly, explaining that Wheezie needed to drive her to her friend’s house because Rose’s car was not starting. 

Before exiting your room, he called your name. ‘’You sound so pretty when you cum.''

Your cheeks flushed and you hid your face with a pillow. ''Rafe...'' 

The corners of his lips curved into a smug smile. He wasn’t done. ‘’Oh, and I liked when you called me Daddy. It's hot.''

—

OBX taglist: @moralina@eudximoniakr @toylewestinnyc @rottenstyx@sweeterheartxamerica  @jordierama @viridwityy @izzy-laufeyson @kenzi-woycehoski @lilaconner @Katsukis1Wife   @hawkegfs @mommyruuetrue   @acornacreacure @snownjune @nmedina8611 @slvtherinseeker   @slvtherinseeker @poppet05 @1stevelacyfan @illf4iry @withbeautyandrage   @maybankslover @sunflowerziva @laylasbunbunny @Honey-marvel15 @leoluvsur-pappy @slytherhoes @kcskye123 @outerbanksacc   @pedrosprincess   @mikaelsonsstuff  @skyesthebomb   @a1mzcruml3y @iluurmom   @popeheywardssecretgf  @madelynie  @loverofdrewstarkey   @radiant-whore  @outsider-at-hogwarts @luci1fer @bbycowboi @rafecameronsbadussy @urbfsbitchlol @nomorespahgetti @bloodyhw @Veescorneroftheworld   @papayaboyluvr @slytherinambitious @darylscvmdumpster @tommysaxes @johannelis2302nely @lynbubble   @straberryshortcake143 @beth-gallagher22 @doestalker @rubyliquor @theflcwer @angelxxrose @sierraluvzz @cruzgrecia @evelestrange @sunnysunny133696  @under-seasoned-pasta @hoeforsirius   @buckyswhxre @emerald-09   @simonessolarsystem @rehead1180 @stvrkey  @ynmunson @riddle18  @love4ldr @withfireandbl00d @wonderland2425 @blublock404 @eddieslut69

[onlyangel4]

team papaya. op81. smau.

norris!reader x oscar piastri

when lando's actress sister attends her first race weekend fans can't help but notice that she is close to a particular australian

faceclaim: ella purnell

y/nnorris

liked by landonorris, oscarpiastri, alexandrasaintmleux and 1,432,203 others

y/nnorris: filming just wrapped, what am i suppossed to do with my life now

view all 34,293 comments

landonorris: you could always come watch your fav sibling race

y/nnorris: flo is doing a horse race?

user1: y/n is fucking brutal

oscarpiastri: monaco is next weekend....

y/nnorris: i am picking up what you are putting down mister piastri

alexandrasaintmleux: please please please come to monaco, you can meet leo

y/nnorris: now you have sold me

user2: y/n norris is ready to steal all the wags

user3: i really hope we get y/n race content

y/nnorris posted a story

written: am i one of the cute insta girlies yet

y/nnorris posted a story tagging landonorris

written: i surprise lando by showing up in monaco he comes over takes a picture with me like i'm some fan before realising "Oh shit that's my sister" fucksake

ln4updates

liked by user4, user5, user6 and 43,293 others

ln4updates: after confusing his sister for a fan lando norris has brought y/n norris to the monaco grand prix. this is y/n's first race due to her very busy acting schedule. i am so happy to finally see her in the paddock!

view all 2,384 comments

user4: i am forever forgetting that they are related

user5: i hope we get y/n in the paddock more

user6: she is so cute omg

y/nnorris posted a story

written: i'm a proper mclaren girlie now

landonorris replied to your story: who took this picture, did you bully one of the interns

y/nnorris: oscar did

landonorris: hmmm...

y/nnorris: what does that mean?

landonorris: hmmm...

y/nnorris

liked by landonorris, oscarpiastri, alexandrasaintmleux and 1,823,293 others

tagged: oscarpiastri. landonorris

y/nnorris: maybe i should come to more races, that was rather fun

view all 34,293 comments

landonorris: it took me years to convince you to come to races and now you won't leave

y/nnorris: what can i say, i changed my mind....

oscarpiastri: i will always be happy to see your face in the garage

y/nnorris: that's it i'm convinced

landonorris: i don't know what this is but i know i don't like it

user7: oscar and y/n flirting on main omg

user8: please come to every race, your bts content is the best

oscarpiastri posted a story

written: boy have i missed the water

y/nnorris posted a story

written: am i a real monaco girlie now

landonorris replied to this story: who's boat is that

y/nnorris: i think you know

landonorris: i hate you

ln4fan

liked by user9, user10, user11 and 23,283 others

ln4updates: lowkey considering changing this account into a y/n norris fanpage because this girl is the best, i might just be her biggest fan. she has been to monaco, canada and spain, she slays every single time and gives us the best f1 content ever.

view all 3,495 comments

user9: as an oscar fan i am so grateful for all the oscar content she gives us

user10: fr she posts him more than her own brother

user11: you can't be y/n's biggest fan, that is oscar jack piastri

user12: finally someone who understands. y/n is the best norris

y/nnorris posted a story

written: the fit for hungary

mclarenupdates

liked by user13, user14, user15 and 56,930 others

mclarenupdates: oscar and y/n entered the paddock together today. lando later met up with them in the mclaren garage but it seems like these two are really close...

view all 6,928 comments

user13: i have been convinced that they are together since monaco

user14: they would be such a hot couple

user15: i know they probably aren't together but they should be

user16: pookies

y/nnorris

liked by oscarpiastri, landonorris, mclaren and 2,384,928 others

tagged: oscarpiastri

y/nnorris: so incredibly proud of you

view all 452,293 comments

oscarpiastri: couldn't have done it without your support

y/nnorris: yeah me crying in the pits deffo made you go faster

landonorris: i told you i supported your relationship but did you really need to kiss in front of me, ew

y/nnorris: grow up

mclaren: our papaya girl

user17: i would pay good money to have gotten to see lando's reaction to them

user18: i am so in love with them

∘•···············•∘ʚ ♡ ɞ∘•················•∘

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[bokutosbabe]

Did You See Me On TV?

( bllk boys and being in a long distance relationship )

a/n — thought about this and just HAD to write. no long distance relationship experience, but def some long distance friendship experience. rather short, but i had to get it out.

content — fem! reader, set in the ' Neo Egoist ' era, some characters repeated, all characters 18+, angst, fluff, maybe some ooc for some people??, nicknames 'love' , 'babe' , 'baby' , ' my girl ' , and 'sweetheart' used

synopsis — yes, he's a world famous soccer player, but he's also your boyfriend. how does this effect your relationship?

⋆.˚✮🎧✮˚.⋆ ' you tell yourself it's fine, ' ⋆.˚✮🎧✮˚.⋆

✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧ the... ' radio silence '

it's been a month since your boyfriend had left to go play for the soccer team he'd been assigned to, and what had you heard from him?

...complete and utter silence.

you understood he was busy now, you really did, but he hadn't even called while he'd been gone. any text he sent was no more than 3 words.

you were still in love with him, but was he in love with you anymore? had he forgotten all about you? was there another girl that was better than you?

the promise the two of you had made before he left sat on your tongue like lead now.

" you'll come back whenever you can, right? " you'd asked him. " for you? always. i couldn't imagine a life without you. i promise i'll call every chance i get. "

you stared at your phone, the text you'd sent him before his game started staring back at you...mocking you.

you: good luck, love!! i'm rooting for you from home! i love you, have fun, don't get hurt. call me when you can <3

it was almost pitiful. three almost exact texts sat above that one, and he hadn't even bothered to read them until after the game, simply replying with a...

him <3 : thanks

and no, if you were wondering, he hadn't ever called you.

and here you were, like a fool, curled up in your bed watching his game on live TV, watching as he made his second goal of the day.

maybe, just maybe, he'd call you after this one.

✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧ SAE ITOSHI, isagi yoichi, RIN ITOSHI, oliver aiku, OTOYA EITA, rensuke kunigami

✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧ the... ' a complete mess '

he'd been gone a month, and you can't count a single day he hasn't called you three times at minimum. you'd been together for a while, but you never realized how much he relied on you to do basic everyday tasks for him.

"babe? do you know where i usually keep my long socks?" you heard come from your phone speaker as you were trying to do your own homework, mind you.

" usually in the middle of your top drawer next to your underwear. unless you've changed it. " you stated, he'd asked you this question every single time he had a game since he had left, but you wouldn't dare expect him to remember that.

" you're the best, baby. what would i do without you? " your boyfriend asked as he pulled socks out of his drawer, propping his phone up on the bedside lamp as he slid the socks onto his feet.

" lose your head, probably. " you joked, looking up from your work to admire him.

yes, everyone got to see him as the big, bad soccer player on TV, but with you? he seemed like a completely different person, not someone who could get a hat trick and also simultaneously asking where their phone is while it's in their hand.

" your games soon, love. you gotta get going. " you helpfully reminded him, as if you were his personal alarm ( you were but that's besides the point )

" ah crap, thank you baby. i'll call you after i win," he said cheekily. " i'll score a goal just for you, so make sure you watch!"

" you know i will. call you later, i love you. " you reflected his smile through the phone. " i love you too! " he repeated. and just as you were about to press the 'end call' button...

"oh, baby? do you remember where i put my jersey?"

yeah, without you he'd be a train wreck.

✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧ NAGI SEISHIRO, bachira meguru, HIORI YO, gin gagamaru, ZANTETSU TSURUGI, ranze kurona

✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧ the... ' basically married '

it'd been a month since your boyfriend had left to go play professional soccer, and out of the four games he had played, you'd been flown out for three of them.

" do you like it? " he asked giddily, as if he was a child on christmas morning waiting to open presents. but instead of a gift, it was him showing you the hotel room he'd gotten you so you could watch his game this week too.

" you're too sweet to me, love. i would've been happy just sitting at home and cheering you on from there. " you told him. " nope! you're no longer allowed to watch the games from home," he said as if it was a fact.

oh, soccer players and their superstitions.

" even the whole team agrees! my girl is our lucky charm! "

the one game you missed, because you had a big test may i add, they lost. it wasn't a horrible loss, no, they went into additional time and lost 5-4.

your shock and confusion must have been written all of your face, because he just laughed. " c'mon sweetheart, why don't you just come live with me here ? "

many reasons, actually. you still had school, it was across the world (not really but it felt like it ), your family, your friends.

he knew all of this, of course. there usually wasn't a day that you seriously considered it. considered being here, with him, instead of having to facetime and miss him.

one day, you would, but not now...you think.

"oh, hush. you gotta get going, you have a game to win." you huffed, pushing at his shoulder to hopefully get him going out the door.

"alright, alright. i'll come back with you after the game, sweetheart. i love you, see you after my win! "

and win he would, because he swore to himself that if he won this game the velvet box that was hiding in his dresser would finally be able to come out.

but, hey, even if he didn't win, would you say no to the ring he had custom made for you?

✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧ REO MIKAGE, isagi yoichi, YUKIMIYA KENYU, chigiri hyoma, nijiro nanase, BARO SHOEI

⋆.˚✮🎧✮˚.⋆ ' you're just in love ' ⋆.˚✮🎧✮˚.⋆

this was really written on a whim, but i hope yall liked it!

likes, comments, and reblogs appreciated!

[taesanluv3r]

in my daydreams.

han taesan x reader

yn mentally escapes from her physics class, losing herself in the scenarios in her head (in other words, yn is delusional), follow along her train of thoughts as she crushes hard on her classmate. lowercase intended, cuss words. pls ignore any grammar or spelling errors! enjoyy

wc: 1,448

⋆౨ৎ˚⟡˖

"the law of the conservation of energy states that energy can neither be created nor destroyed. that being said..."

i drowned him out after that - my physics teacher, i mean - i drowned it all out. it wasn't my fault though, it was all on him. it was his fault. no, no! not my physics professor...this is all han taesan's fault.

what did he do exactly? well...nothing. the truth is he never does anything! and that's exactly it. he does absolutely nothing and i still find myself constantly stealing glances at him. at his stupid face, his idiotic light brown eyes, his dumb smile, and his perfectly white pearly teeth...and his honey-like voice...his hair that turned a light brown against the sun...his...ugh!

god fucking dammit

as i sit here, in physics class - which, by the way, i absolutely despise physics class - i can't help but be distracted. just look at him! sitting there, right next to the window...i wouldn't be shocked if a bird distracted itself from it's flock and came flying right through it, if i were a bird i know i would. there was a singular pen in his hand, one of those expensive pens with his name engraved on it - probably a gift from his dad, he's always mentioning his dad. anyways, the pen spun against his fingers, his long and lanky fingers...sometimes i can't help but wonder what they'd feel like between my own; would they warm me up? or would it only feel that way because i'd be blinded by the affection? the pen smacked against his knuckles, they're red now from the friction. then the spinning stopped, and i watched as he began jotting words down in his lined notebook - guess there are notes i should be taking.

my chin rested on the palm of my hands and i look away from him for a moment. i sigh, who turned the air conditioner down? why is it always freezing in physics class? as i pondered, my eyes fell shut - lucky for me, i sat at the very back of the room, a spot the professor's poor eyesight can't reach. i felt my shoulder slouch as i relaxed into the uncomfortable chair, in a second i'm gone.

my mind's blank, but only just for a moment before i'm met with images of him again. seriously, i can't even rest for a moment without his face all up in my business? can't he leave my brain alone? please? i'm saying this like i hate it, but truly i don't - i can't. it's hard for me to hate something i really love more than anything. so, instead of trying to rid of his figure in my mind, my unconscious soul walks towards him.

mmm, i can almost taste him. a sweet smell that i can never put my finger on - i mean, it's woody, like a deep foggy forest...but it almost smells like freshly baked cookies from my grandma's kitchen. it's his scent though, that much i can tell you. he glows in my dreams, like edward cullen - minus the whole vampire thing, my fantasies aren't that weird, he just glowed like one. he looks right at me, this is something that truly only happens in my head. his eyes are so soft, yet there's a cat-like charm to them that makes my stomach turn.

"yn"

he calls out to me, his voice the most hypnotic noise. the figure of myself follows him, an arm linked with mine as he traces his other hand against my face. it wasn't real, but it sure felt like it, i could feel the strange sensation of butterflies in my stomach - it felt so real, i could just throw up. and then he leans in, he never kisses me though. he just pauses there, looking me in the eyes like we were in the middle of some sort of a highly prestigious staring contest. to be honest, if he weren't so insanely gorgeous, i'd think him a creep.

"yn!"

he calls out again, though it's a bit loud for the close proximity that we're in. and he sounded strange...he almost sounds like...my...

physics teacher?

fuck.

"huh? present! um-" i could feel the gazes of my classmates piercing through my skin. "yn, would you like to share with the class what you were daydreaming about?" oh, prof...you know damn fucking well i can't do that...

my teacher said something else, he's probably scolding me or saying something utterly ridiculous to embarrass me in front of my friends, i don't know though, it's not like i listened. i couldn't stop myself from wondering, what if i had just told it straight? what if i had answered my professor's stupid question with an even more dimwitted answer? 'what were you daydreaming about?' and i'd just get up from my seat and scream at the top of my lungs

"taesan"

huh...?

the name that escaped my teacher's tongue brings me back to reality, again. i'm paying full attention now. "taesan...you will be paired with...ah, look at that..." c'mon old man, quit stalling. i don't even know why we're making pairs right now, but i need to know what idiot he has to work with so i can turn them into the enemy in my fantasies and- "our very own daydreamer..." wait, did he say daydreamer? that can only mean one thing...i mean, unless someone else has been referred to as a daydreamer before.

"taesan, your pair is yn. i wish you luck"

ignoring the last bit of the sentence, which was an obvious kick at my lack of physics enthusiasm, i was almost overjoyed. fuck, this might be the actual only time i might like doing something related to this class.

i watched as taesan nodded, his lips were pursed together - i wonder if he was upset...i mean if i were as hot as him, i'd be well over pissed if i was paired with me - no offence. but as i was thinking that, he turned around in his seat to look at me - and i mean actually look at me! and as if this wasn't already a dream come true, he smiled at me! does he know how absolutely insane this drives me?! i mean, quick! somebody pinch me! pinch me and tell me it's fake!

i must've been lost in my head again because the next time i opened my eyes i almost died of shock. low and behold, han taesan right in front of me - like, inches away from me.

"don't know if you know, but we're pairs..." i can't believe it he's actually talking to me! my eyes must've gone wide, and my mouth opened to speak but nothing came out. he laughed at me. he laughed at me. you know that kind of stupid laugh a guy does when he just knows he's causing some sort of chemical reaction in my body right now - or as i like to call it, the absolutely shit-eating asshole laugh.

he's so lucky he's hot.

"lucky for you..." he said, turning the chair from the table in front of mine around to sit and face me. "i actually listened in class, so you don't have to - i know, i know, no need to thank me" asshat, but i can't help the feeling of a fluttering flower blooming in the very depths of my body - lower abdomen, to be specific. i still haven't spoken a word to him - i mean, i'd love to, but i just couldn't seem to.

"so the whole point of this project is to explain everything about motion" i know of other things that could be put into motion...what? ew! yn, get your head out of the gutter! i'm sorry, sir isaac newton definitely did not die for this.

"listen, you're cute and all, but can we save the rest of the daydreaming for later? i kind of need to pass this physics class" he's right, i should stop, this is inappropriate and not very cool of me- wait...did he call me cute?!?!?? ME? CUTE?

"you there?" i finally get myself together. "uh- oh! yeah, sorry about that...what're we doing again?" i just know i looked like an absolute fool. and i swear to whatever being that i was trying to stay professional and calm, but when he laughs and when he smiled at me with that stupid dumbass fucking idiot smile of his, i just can't seem to think straight.

i may not know much about physics, but i know one thing for sure. and it's that for as long as i, yn ln, have to work together with him, han taesan...

i'm completely and utterly so fucking cooked.

the end.

⋆౨ৎ˚⟡˖

i never really write in this pov but i kinda love this 🫢 hope u guys did too!! yn is so me when i have a crush on someone - it's always like i almost hate them so much because of how much i like them lmao 😭 tysm for reading! love, kona.

perm taglist (lmk if u wanna be added)

@en-dream

[burntheedges]

Pas de Deux Chapter 5

Din Djarin x f!reader | 2.9k | fic masterlist | main masterlist | ao3

chapter summary: It's time for the first mixed program of the spring schedule, and so it's finally time to see Din perform.

a/n: Thank you everyone for your lovely comments on the last chapter. Everything still feels pretty shitty but being part of this community does not! See my notes at the end and on the masterlist about reader in this fic and ballet in general. Thank you @katareyoudrilling for being the best beta, as always!!

chapter tags/warnings: gen, ballet terms (see end notes and the masterlist for definitions and videos), a bit more angst (sorry), but we also have fluff

Chapter 5

In stark contrast to that disaster of a rehearsal, your performance in the January program went well. The first night had its usual jitters, but even so, you felt proud of the performance you and the others put on. And Jee had been excited and full of praise, with only a couple of notes about the choreography, which made you more excited for the next performance.

On Friday, though, you had a small costume malfunction, and so you were busy getting stuck with pins and missed Din’s solo. You heard the music from La Bayadère start and cursed — you knew you wouldn’t be back in time.

On Saturday, you saw it. You saw him.

You were standing in the wings, huddled with Adrian and a small group of dancers when Din’s music began. Everyone backstage quieted as soon as the orchestra began. He was wearing a sort-of doublet and white tights that screamed classical ballet. He started in the wings just in front of you and you watched the line of his neck and back as he walked calmly onto the stage.

You knew Talia had chosen three of Solor’s variations from different versions of the ballet. She had Din moving off stage and back on to continue with the three solos that usually appeared at different moments throughout the long performance. Three demanding solos, all in a row.

The music swelled and Din swept his arm upward and, from his first movement, he stole your breath away. Your eyes followed the sheer height of his jumps, the beautiful lines of his extensions. You couldn’t help but marvel at the perfection of his technique, the absolute ease of his movements. You watched the flex of his muscles and wondered at his strength. He made everything look effortless. He had such control, but none of that showed — his face was calm, expression serene. 

You tightened your hold on Adrian’s hand.

Din dipped into the wings and back out for the second variation, and you felt someone next to you suck in a sharp breath when Din launched himself into the air into a double saut de basque in attitude followed by a revoltade. How did he look so weightless?

Talia had been right — this was the perfect way to showcase the absolute phenomenon that was Din Djarin. His strength, his precision, his control, his power, his grace: all of it was on display. 

In the third variation, you assumed he must have been tired. But he soared through multiple double assemblé turns with such ease, it looked like he was floating. 

When he fell into his final pose, the audience lost their minds.

You looked at Adrian, and he looked at you, eyebrows high. 

“That was insane,” Adrian whispered, and you nodded. “I knew he was good, but oh my god.”

You agreed. And you couldn’t help but start to worry, again, about the pas de deux. How were you supposed to partner someone who danced like that? 

…

You worried over that question so much over the next few days that the words started to feel meaningless in your mind. You found yourself waking up too early, too anxious to sleep. It was only a matter of time before that started to show in your dancing. 

In class you didn’t look at Din. You knew you were letting this grow into something in your mind that it probably wasn’t, but you couldn’t get a handle on it. You’d been through this before — moments where all you could see were your own flaws — but none of the tricks you’d learned over the years to claw your way out of it were working this time.

By Thursday, you were so anxious about the entire thing that it must have shown on your face, or in your body. Adrian took one look at you after morning class and pulled you into the smaller, sad break room (with the couch everyone hated) to make you breathe with him until you calmed down.

“Look at me,” he said after you’d taken several deep breaths in unison, squeezing your hand. “You can do this. One practice isn’t enough to make or break anything, you know that. You’ve been there before.”

You nodded, closing your eyes and clutching his hand with both of yours. 

“He’s good, we’ve all seen it. But so are you.” Adrian’s voice was firm and you tried to believe it, too. “And you know Kuiil picked you for a reason. Think about it — Din Djarin has never danced anything remotely like this choreography. On Saturday he was doing what he’s best at, and of course it was freaking amazing. But you’re better at this.”

He was right. You let that truth of it settle somewhere in your chest. You felt at home in more contemporary ballet choreography, and to your knowledge Din had never so much as tried it. Concordia would never even consider it, that much was definitely true.

“You can do both, you know? I bet that was part of it. Casting someone who could show him how to let go of what he knows. He isn’t going to be the only person in that room who’s an expert on something.”

You took a deep breath and opened your eyes. When you met Adrian’s gaze, he smiled. “There you are. You ready?”

You nodded. “I can do this.” You couldn’t let yourself get in your head like that. You knew better.

“Hell yeah, you can. Come on.” He stood and tugged you to your feet, and then grabbed your shoulders. “Go fucking blow him away, ok? I know you can.” He shook you a little, and you laughed.

“Ok! Ok. I can do this.”

…

You tried to let that run through your mind like a mantra as you stepped into the small rehearsal studio. You can do this. 

Kuiil and Din were standing by the sound equipment again. As always, Din was wearing black tights, black sweats cut off at the knees, and a tight, long-sleeve black shirt. You pointedly did not let your eyes linger on the line of his shoulders.

“Come in, my dear. We are going to start with something different today.”

You tried not to wince as Kuiil beckoned you forward, remembering the disaster of the week before.

“Today I will give each of you part of your solo pieces for the start, and I would like you to watch each other as you learn and begin to practice them.” He looked at each of you in turn as you nodded. “I want you to pay attention to each other. How do your bodies move as you learn? How do you come to inhabit the movement? How do you each make it your own?” He gestured between you. “As you know, after these moments, you will encounter each other on stage for the first time. Think about what that would feel like, as you watch each other today.”

You nodded again, frowning a little as you tried to work out what he wanted from you. To watch, to observe? To notice something new? To watch as if you’d never seen before? You supposed you could only watch and try and see what you found. 

“Let us begin.”

He started with you. It was only a few counts of 8, a few moments following the wandering path of the violin in the music. What he gave you was very bare bones — you knew, from working with him in the past, that he sometimes wanted you to find your own way to connect things together. Kuiil always wanted his dancers to put themselves into his choreography.

You realized, after he had shown you everything he wanted to, that you hadn’t even looked or spared a thought for Din as you focused on the steps and the music. You were feeling better, more confident, focusing on choreography that played to your own strengths as a dancer.

“Good. Now, give it a try with the music a couple of times, and then I will show Din how he will begin. Do not be afraid to try different things as you let the movements settle.”

You nodded and took up the first position he’d shown you, arms extended a bit behind you. He started the music and you moved, finding your way through the moments Kuiil wanted in this brief part of the first movement. You let yourself sink into the music and the choreography, trying to feel it more than think about it. You whipped through turns and flicked your leg, almost smiling when your développé was timed perfectly to the music. There were moments that felt more awkward, moments you knew you’d need to work on, but overall you felt the weight in your chest lighten as you danced. You can do this.

Kuiil stopped the music just after you found the final position, and you sucked in a deep breath as you relaxed out of it and turned to look at him. 

“Very well done, my dear. I can see the shape of it forming. One more time, and then we will switch. Try to smooth out that transition into the turn.” You nodded, but your curiosity got the better of you and you darted a glance to Din.

He was watching you intently, which you supposed was only following Kuiil’s directions. But for once his face wasn’t expressionless.

Din was smiling. It was a small thing, barely there, but it took your breath away.

…

Adrian was waiting for you after your rehearsal, and for once you were out the door and down the hall before Din.

“So?” He raised his eyebrows at you as he tucked his arm through yours, leading you down the hall to your rehearsal for the February mixed program. You were both in the same piece, for once, a collaboration between Jee and Vince. “How did it go?”

You told him all about it, about the way Kuiil had split the time between you. “Maybe he realized we need to get used to each other first? But we didn’t really do a lot of that, we didn’t even talk to each other much.”

“But you look like you feel better about it.”

You nodded. “Yeah, I mean, I got to do what I’m good at.”

“Hmm.” Adrian looked thoughtful. “I think that makes sense, though. Letting you learn about each other’s style.”

You shrugged. “Well, maybe. I guess we’ll see next time. But Adrian… he smiled at me.”

“Who, Kuiil?”

“No,” you almost whispered, glancing around the hall. “Din.”

Adrian’s jaw dropped as you led him through the door for your second rehearsal. “What,” he hissed, but there wasn’t time for him to ask you for more details. You put it out of your mind. You had to focus on the dance in front of you, anyway.

You took that motivation forward through your weekend and the next week of rehearsals. You had so many performances coming up — the February mixed program, Midsummer, and then after that, Swan Lake. And another mixed program in April. And Cinderella. You usually didn’t let yourself think that far ahead — you had so many rehearsals, and so much physical therapy, that you tried to focus on the next performance and maybe the one after. The ones that were right in front of you.

But it was a helpful distraction, for once, thinking through the rest of your season. 

You knew Din had joined the Balanchine ballet for the February mixed program, and you knew those rehearsals were heating up. So you barely saw him outside of morning classes, and you’d been trying not to watch him as much. You wondered, a bit, if you should try to talk to him again, but you weren’t sure what you’d say. Hey, let’s get to know each other so we can actually dance together? 

That one smile aside, he was still so closed off you weren’t sure how to bring yourself to try.

…

The Thursday of your third rehearsal with Kuiil arrived, and you moved quickly down the hallway, almost running — your rehearsal for Midsummer had gone long and you didn’t want to be late.

You turned the corner, moving quickly, and let out an “oomph” as you almost slammed into someone. You felt strong hands come up to steady you and once again blinked up to find Din looking down at you. His large hands were warm where they rested on your waist. 

“Shit,” you cursed. “Din, sorry, I was —” you took a deep breath. “Sorry. I was running late. Obviously.” 

His face was, of course, expressionless once more, but you could have sworn you saw the tiniest lift in the corner of his mouth as he looked at you. “It’s ok. I’m late, too.”

You smiled at him, hesitant, hoping to find that bit of ease you’d briefly had together before your rehearsals started. “Balanchine?”

He nodded. “Balanchine.”

You stepped back a bit and ignored the way it felt when his hands slid from your waist and brushed over your hips before falling by his sides. “How’s it going?”

Din fell into step beside you as you started to walk towards the small rehearsal studio where Kuiil would be waiting for you. “Good. They hadn’t rehearsed much when I started, so it was easier to step in and join one of the pairs.”

“Who have they paired you with?” Symphony in C featured four principal couples, and many of them had danced together for years at this point.

He nodded, seeming to understand your question. “Yuna. They hadn’t finalized that pairing yet, so it was easy to step in. And we didn’t do a ton of Balanchine at CBC, but I’ve danced the first before.”

That made sense. Yuna had just made principal this year, and had yet to form a strong connection with any of the others. You couldn’t imagine them breaking up the pairing of Mira and Diego, for example, or giving Din the adagio in the second movement, when he barely knew anyone yet. And that role, the pair featured in the first movement, was tough. It was perfect for him.

“Yuna’s great. She’s so good at partnering, too.” You could almost see Talia’s vision for them, in your mind — she and Din would dance beautifully together.

You’d arrived at your studio, but before you could step inside, Din said, “she said the same thing about you.”

You froze as Din moved past you into the studio. He had talked about you? With someone else? You stepped inside, in a bit of a daze, as you tried not to wonder what they’d talked about.

Later, during rehearsal, you clung to that positive moment in your mind, because it felt like the first rehearsal all over again. Kuill had you both run through the sections he’d shown you the week before and then returned to the moment you met on stage for the first time. But you could tell from the start that it hadn’t gotten better.

Somehow, it had gotten worse.

You’d lost count of how many times you’d tried it so far, but you took a deep breath as the music started. You started your pass across the floor, leaping into an attitude before rolling out of it. You were supposed to stand and find Din in front of you, except he wasn’t where you expected him to be, so it didn’t quite work. And then the moment passed. 

No matter how hard you tried, you and Din couldn’t seem to find each other at all, throughout the rehearsal. You had no idea why you couldn’t seem to connect with him. Were you feeling the music differently? He felt so distant from you, even standing only a few feet away. Your movements felt separate, like you were on two separate stages, rather than sharing one space together. 

You could feel the frustration begin to build from the base of your spine. You didn’t understand how you could have such an easy conversation with him in the hall and then hit this wall inside the studio, where it should have been easier to connect with him. It had never been this difficult for you to get to know another dancer before.

“Alright.” Kuiil stopped the music and you tried not to read into his tone. “That is enough for today. I know you have the mixed program this weekend. Focus on that, clear your minds, and next week we begin again.”

As you started to leave, feeling defeated, Kuiil called you back. You turned and saw Din hurry out the door in the mirror. You caught a glimpse of his expression as he did and realized he was frowning. Your own mouth turned down in response. 

“My dear, I can see that you are frustrated.” You nodded. As he’d said before, your body couldn’t lie. “I want you to think about something before our next practice. How did you learn to connect with other dancers on stage?”

You thought about it for a moment. “Through movement, I suppose. And interpreting the choreography together.”

Kuiil nodded. “How is it different, when you are performing different styles?”

You blinked. You suddenly understood where he was leading you. “In classical pieces, it’s more pre-defined. It’s constrained. The connection, I mean. And how we are able to express it.”

He nodded again. “Think about that, as you rehearse this week. And we will try again.”

…

prev | next

a/n: so 👀 how do you think the next one will go 👀🩰

Solor - this is a very difficult, technical role in a famous classical ballet, La Bayadère! Here’s a really long video of an almost complete performance by Sergei Polunin. The exact number of variations/solos that Solor has can vary by production but there could be as many as three, one per act, and I decided to make Din do all of them. Here’s one, two (and another one, and another, and another), and three with the double assembles. You may have noticed that the second variation can have a lot of different jumps in it – I stole the idea for the double saut de basque and revoltades (and another) from a couple places. I know I saw someone doing the double saut de basque in attitude where most of these men are doing a double saut de basque en dedans (both are in that video) but now I can’t find it.

Symphony in C - a very NYC Ballet piece choreographed by George Balanchine. It’s basically 100% focused on technique and it’s hard!! There are four principal couples featured in four movements. Din joins the first couple. Reader also mentioned the third. This is the sort of performance CBC would have been less likely to do, but it’s so technical and classical they would have added it to their repertoire to broaden it without moving from their classical stance. Here’s a recording of the whole thing from 1973.

Classical ballet - I’ve mentioned this before, but now I’ll say that not everyone would interpret classical ballet the same way. Din’s previous company was on the more strict end of the spectrum. We’ll learn more soon!

I know I've mentioned attitude before, but this time we also see a développé!

tag list coming in a reblog!

[hiro--aoki]

TWD X Tumblr Chapter Four: Disoriented

TW: Somewhat suggested abuse, but its pretty plain of tw's today

A/n: I'm really sorry for how late this is, family shit, but it's here. It's also short, but that just means more chapters in season one

Previous Chapter // Next Chapter

"Disoriented."

The fire crackles in the middle of the circle of people, crickets chirping off in the distance.

Rick has Lori and Lily either side of him and Carl laying on his lap.

"I guess that comes closest." Rick continues, glancing around the group as rubs Carl's head.

"Disoriented. Fear, confusion; all those things but disoriented comes closest."

Thunder rolls in the distance as the group listens to his tired voice, explaining the journey he went through to find his family.

Dale sets down his mug of soup, "Words can be meagre things. Sometimes they fall short."

He glances around the group as well.

"I felt like I'd been ripped out of my life and put somewhere else." Rick continues, "For a while I thought I was trapped. Trapped in some coma dream. Something I might not wake up from ever."

Carl pulls himself closer to Rick, tilting his head back to look up at him.

There's a soft sparkle in his eyes, as he listens to his strong and brave dad.

"Mom said you died." He whispers softly.

He sounds like he's almost about to fall asleep, cuddled up with his family.

There's another momentary silence withing the group.

Lori opens her mouth to explain, but Rick interupts, his voice soft like silk.

"She had every reason to believe that...don't you ever doubt it."

Lori looks over at Shane, who's sitting with Delilah and Kayden snuggled up next to him. They lock eyes, almost communicating.

Finally, Lori speaks.

"When things started to get really bad, they told me at the hospital that they were going to medevac you and the other patients to Atlanta and it never happened."

"Probably for the best." Lily whispers.

"Yeah, probably for the best." Lori smiles down at her.

"And, I'm not surprised, after Atlanta fell." Rick adds.

Shane tosses a twig into the warmth of the fire.

A few "yeah"s are murmered around the group.

"And from the look of that hospital, it got overrun." "...yeah, looks don't decieve." Shane adds, "I barely got them out. You know?" 

He gestures to Lori, Carl and LIly then Kayden and Delilah.

Rick looks over at Shane, "I can't tell you how grateful I am to you, Shane. I can't begin to express it."

There's a sudden tension spike between the group.

"There go those words falling short again." Dale jokes, trying to lighten the mood.

Glenn moves from the fire, with his cup of soup, sitting down next to Delilah and Kayden, offering a sip of his soup to Delilah. She shakes her head at the offer.

Kayden's eyes stay on Carl. She wants to be cuddled up with him, but she can't interrupt his family moment.

"Paltry things." Dale adds, directed at the lack of ability to express oneself purely through words.

Lori grips Rick even tighter, going into deep thought about something.

Rick rubs her arm, soothing her, as he thinks she's still recovering form the shock of him coming back.

Someone steps up. Ed Peletier. Here comes some drama.

He throws a chopped log into the fire, making it bigger. The fire crackles loudly and Ed sits back down.

"Hey, Ed, you want to rethink that log?" Shane asks, his patience obviously barely existent for this man.

Ed just throws his head back and says, "It's cold, man."

The groups throws glances at each other, each one showing a different combination of emotions, ranging from annoyance to... yeah basically all annoyance.

"The cold don't change the rules, does it?" Shane says to Ed, waiting for him to get the hint, "Keep our fires low, just embers, so we can't be seen from a distance, right?"

Everyone hopes that Ed will just listen and take the log out. But their wishes go unanswered.

"I said it's cold." Ed hardens his voice, as if he could scare Shane into letting him rule the roost, "You should mind your own business for once."

Shane lets out a groan, before standing, deciding if he wants it done, Ed ain't gonna do it.

"Hey Ed." Shane mumbles as he passes Ed, giving him two pats on his shoulder as he stands next to him, "You sure you want to have this conversation, man?"

Ed looks up at Shane from his seat, thinking for a moment, weighing his options.

"Go on. Pull the damn thing out." He says after a few seconds.

Shane just stands there. He's not Ed's dog, he's not doing it for him.

"Go on!" Ed raises his voice.

Carol stands, laying her shawl on her chair next to Sophia, as she stands to take the log out.

Shane looks between Ed and the fire before pulling out the log, just so Carol doesn't have to and so he doesn't have to put up with Ed's 'Lead Cheerleader Complex'.

He tosses the burning log to the ground and stops out the flames on it.

Shane then crouches next to Carol and Sophia, "Hey, carol, Sophia, how are ya'll this evening?"

Sophia stays looking at the fire, silently, but Carol turns to Shane and answers him.

"Fine. We're just fine." "Okay." Shane says, obviously questioning her.

Ed glares the the three of them from across the fire.

"I'm sorry about the fire." Carol adds.

"No, no, no, no. No apology needed." Shane assures, "Ya'll have a good night, okay?"

They both nod and Carol whispers a "Thank you".

Shane stands again, before saying to Ed in particular, "I appreciate the cooperation." 

The underlying sarcasm can be noted in his tone.

Shane walks back to his spot on the ground, the group watching him move.

"Have you given any thought to Daryl Dixon? He won't be happy to hear his brother was left behind." Dale asks.

"I'll tell him."T-Dog declares, "I dropped the key. It's on me."

"I cuffed him. That makes it mine." Rick counters.

"Guys, it's not a competition." Delilah says, Glenn rubs his thumb over her knuckle, his other hand holfing his now empty mug.

"I don't mean to sound racist when I say this but it might sound better coming froma white guy." Glenn adds.

"...I did what I did. hell if I'm gonna hide from him." T-Dog says firmly.

"We could lie." Amy suggests.

"Or tell the truth." Andrea says, leaving no room for argument, "Merle was out of control. Something had to be done, or he would've gotten us killed."

Andrea turns to Lori, "Your husband did what was necessary. And if Merle got left behind, it is nobody's fault but Merle's."

"And that's what we tell Daryl?" Dale asks with concern, "I don't see a rational discussion to be had from that, do you?"

Andrea shakes her head.

"Word to the wise," Dale continues, "We're gonna have our hands full when he gets back from his hunt."

"I was scared and I ran." T-Dog starts, "I'm not ashamed of it." "We were all scared. We all ran. What's your point?" Andrea asks.

"I stopped long enough to chain that door. Staircase is narrow. Maybe half a dozen geeks can squeeze against it at any one time. It's not enough to break through that. Not that chain, not that padlock. My point: Dixon's alive."

Taglist:

@kookiekult @smutinlove @far-cry-from-finality @zomb-1-egutzz

@shadowybasementmiracle @vaniniweenie @sleep-queen

@frankcastleautism @hisdahlia @carlslvr @zzombiegirl

@lunarnightt @carlmipololo @herrera2k @txrasbae

@a-vampire-bat @coveofthesiren @deathswrld

[meo-eiru]

I kinda like the small yet big detail in the game, like I'm sure myself and some other people were expecting a wholesome dating sim that would also get quite spicy (FROM HOW WE KNOW MERU)

And we all just kinda got kicked in the butt, like Starling being too hot to be true yet so terrifying at the same time, but not the terrifying kind that we know, like Micah or Silas etc

More like the type that makes you forget that he still is more a siren than a merman, like he successfully managed to lure in the whole community with his hot ass😭😭and then we get backstabbed by him munching our fingers off as if they're some carrots, like as a simple lunch snack-💀💀

Or in the other ending where it's basically simply Mae dying and getting turned into a possession and probably just another body to fill up with tongues

From my interpretation, Starling doesn't really have that kind of romantic interest in Mae, but she kinda thought it could go into that direction, but then got stabbed in the back like that😭😭(probs everyone who played it, thought like Mae there too kinda💀so we all got the betrayal🙁)

And you guys did a really good job in simply catching us all off guard in most scenes, it's it's beautifully written and drawn, I love that game so much!!!

Spoilers for the game

Honestly maybe Sel would give a different answer but I do think Starling likes Maelyn. Due to his past and what he has now become his way of showing it is probably different, but for Starling I don't think Maelyn is just another body for storing tongues. If that was the case he wouldn't have went out of his way to clean her body up, find a wedding dress and "marry" her in his own makeshift way.

He probably didn't even view it as a betrayal. Because until the very end Starling was making sure the no longer breathing Maelyn could be comfortable in her pearl necklace.

For the writing style, probably Sel writing the story played a big part in this.

Sel and I have very similar tastes in a lot of things, on levels I myself can't believe sometimes. But we do have a different style at how we depict similar concepts.

I love presenting dark stories on a silver platter. Prettied up with the most delicious icings and shiniest sprinkles. I like my stories and characters to look beautiful. Enjoy them while thinking you're just having whimsy adventures only to realize you're done for once you truly look. Like Silas. It's easy to make fun of him, forget the things he is capable of doing as you're too busy enjoying his silliness. He feels safe, a gentle giant who loves and takes care of you.

But he's still a man who has forced himself on you not only physically but also mentally. Trapped and limited you beyond belief. No electricity, no internet, no contact with anyone other than him. Only talking to him, only feeling him, only knowing him, only consuming him. A beautiful and sweet man no human mind can handle for more than a few weeks.

But Sel, from what I've seen, is a bit different. She doesn't shy away from showing the darkness and scariness of the stories she makes. Before you even know it you'll be facing concepts you didn't think could be possible.

And not only that, she hides so much under every word she uses. Often times the things she places in front of you are not even the scariest parts. The more you read and the more you decipher they get deeper.

I'm frankly a big fan of the things she writes. They often leave me flabbergasted (and mortified, she knows what I mean) but they are also so so fun. So scary yet beautifully poetic.

I know she doesn't like being under the spotlight that much. But ever since I met her and saw her stories I wanted more people to get the chance to see and appreciate them the way they deserved. I think they are truly special, and they make me want to do my best to illustrate them in the perfect way possible.

Honestly I'm not sure if I'm good enough at it, but if it helps the stories reach more people I'm happy with it.

I don't know if she'll read this post so that's why I'm being sappy like this but I genuinely hope you guys like her stories like I do. And I hope both you and I can see more and more of it.

[mychlapci]

Ok this is my third shot at it cause I keep getting errors sending these but. I'm imagining bumblebee, very tired from today's bullshit. He goes to nurse sideswipe and strongarm. Completely, un conch us, falls asleep while nursing them. And also some thoughts about drift feeding strongarm and sideswipe when bee is either busy or exhausted.

tumblr is trying to silence you!! ou, but yes, yes, it definitely crossed my mind that in this case, Drift most likely breastfeeds Jetstorm and Slipstream, so when Bumblebee can’t attend to his own mentees, he could pick up the job.

augh, Bee falling asleep while feeding Strongarm and Sideswipe is so adorable though. he’s so fucking done with everything, he just needs them to get their fuel and get some recharge… he didn’t plan for it to happen at the same time, though. honestly, they'd probably wake him up while trying to close his chest plates, anyways.

[suzukiblu]

It's wip wednesday AND my birthday???? Howd I get so lucky?!?

Could I have some more magic made them do it? Tbh it's probably one of my favorite of the current wips

He doesn't kiss Thirteen back, but Thirteen doesn't seem to mind. Just–the bastard won't stop kissing him, for some reason, and won’t stop trying to play at doing it gentle, for some even less fathomable reason. 

Match should never have even kissed this idiot to begin with, much less be letting him do it like this. 

“You’re so fucking annoying,” he mutters into the kiss, and Thirteen grins against his mouth and then just kisses him again. He’s not even using his fucking teeth or anything, just . . . it’s fucking stupid. Which–so is Thirteen, so Match should really have been expecting more “stupid” by now anyway, considering. 

But the fact he should’ve expected the stupid doesn’t make Thirteen any less fucking annoying. 

“Hm . . . where’d we leave off?” Thirteen murmurs, stroking an actually soft hand up the side of Match’s ribs. Match considers murdering him. He could, if he wanted to. Thirteen’s too busy being fucking stupid to have his guard up right now. 

“Leave what off?” he asks in irritation, since apparently Thirteen can’t just fucking clarify, and Thirteen grins again and curls his fingers against his ribs. 

“So I came the first time when you fucked me,” he starts, and then keeps listing off one by one: “Second was when you bent me in half and grabbed my dick harder than a fucking trash compacter. Third was . . . mmm, was that when we cracked the bedframe?” 

. . . Match should definitely murder him, yes. 

“That was the second time,” he says, eyeing him with an unimpressed expression.

“Right, right,” Thirteen agrees with a smirk that looks far too fucking smug, which makes Match pretty much positive the idiot only “forgot” because he wanted to get him involved in this stupid . . . whatever, exactly. Countdown. Tally? What the fuck ever, again. “Then you kept fucking me without even giving me a fucking minute, you asshole, so then the third was when you finger-fucked my own come down my throat like a fucking weirdo, and you finally came that round, so–” 

“You mean when you came because I reminded you that you thought I was your brother,” Match corrects dubiously. Thirteen flushes briefly, then clears his throat and waves him off. 

“Like I said, you finally came that round, you slow-ass fuck, and then the damn spell worked,” Thirteen says. “Then I got off again riding you–” 

“–got off because I bothered to kiss you,” Match corrects, and Thirteen flushes darker and scowls at him. 

“–riding you,” he repeats louder, the lying idiot, and then continues, “and then I let you hit it from the back and you got off too, and then you were embarrassing as fuck at Rob–” 

“And then you begged me to go out with you while your baby brother's dick was splitting your slut ass in half,” Tim cuts in mildly, and Thirteen turns scarlet.

[gliphyartfan]

Adding on to the "getting adopted by the chain bc i need a father figure" ask (and im bored in my free time), i think if i ever somehow meet fierce in that instance, especially as a kid, i'd just be annoying him with questions ab gods. Time keep me away from him or else I'll have my notebook and pen ready

As a kid? Hm hm hmmm

Well Time would definitely try to keep you away from Fierce. He’d give you every distraction in the book, anything to avoid the endless list of questions you’d inevitably throw at the Deity.

But keeping you away? Probably easier said than done! Let’s be real, once you’ve set your mind to something, even Time himself might struggle to stop you. Hehe.

He’d start by trying to tempt you with anything but gods. ‘Oh, did you know Wild just found this rare flower that only blooms at midnight?’ or ‘Why don’t you go ask Sky about his Loftwing?’ Anything to steer you away from a god interview mission.

When Fierce does pop up, Time’s right there with a hand on your shoulder, giving you a light push in the opposite direction. ‘Fierce is busy. Really busy. Actually, he’s… meditating. Yes, meditating.’

Meanwhile, Fierce Deity is standing there…..looking anything but busy. 😀

When you inevitably corner Fierce with your Notebook

Fierce would silently watch you approach with mild curiosity. Gods don’t get approached so causally like this every day, after all. He’d probably lean back, cross his arms, and just watch you.

Internally, Fierce would find your questions amusing enough in his own quiet way. He’s not used to anyone, let alone a kid, coming at him like this.

When Fierce DOES speak, he might give you cryptic answers at first, half to entertain himself, half to protect you from things you probably shouldn’t know. ‘Hylia and I… have history.” Or “God friends? Not quite.” He wouldn’t want to lie, but he’d also want to keep things at a kid appropriate level.

Time would be watching from the sidelines, probably with one hand on his sword and the other rubbing his temple. He’d see you scribbling furiously, and his expression would just scream, “You really don’t need to know these things right now.”

At one point, he’d probably send you off on little “missions” just to keep you occupied. “Go find me a stone that speaks to you,” he’d say, just to buy himself a moment of silence. You’d come back with the most interesting rock you could find, and Fierce would accept it with utmost seriousness, as if it held the secrets of the universe. (He’s not gonna be THAT mean as to toss it away. He’ll keep it somewhere safe.)

if Fierce hasn’t been driven off by now, he’s probably sticking around. So Time would probably come to accept that you’re not going to stop being curious any time soon.

Even though he’s resigned, he’s still not leaving you entirely alone with Fierce. He’ll be hovering nearby, ears pricked, ready to step in if the Deity says anything too cryptic or intense. (Or if you tempt fate too much 🤭)

[honeysghost]

In the Middle

Pairing: Lasko/Freelancer/Gavin

Word count: 1,065

Summary: Follows behind Lasko's second bonus audio, based around the poem After the Threesome They Both Take You Home by Sue Hyon Bae

The AO3 version if you prefer: In the Middle - honeysghost

“It’s getting late, do you want to stay?” Freelancer asks, warmth spreading through their body when they meet the Incubus’ eyes.

“Oh, I couldn’t. It’s sweet of you to offer, but you’re both busy tomorrow, aren’t you? If I stayed, I doubt you’d get much sleep.” There’s a coy smile on his lips that sends a shiver down both of their spines. 

Lasko’s hand finds theirs in the dark, rubbing a thumb across their knuckles. 

“We wouldn’t mind,” he mumbles, avoiding Gavin’s gaze. 

He’s grown more confident since the start of this encounter, less stuttering but still shy. It’s cute. Both Freelancer and Gavin delight in seeing a blush creep across his cheeks.

“Really, I couldn’t.”

His tone is light, still laced with flirtation, but it’s obvious he doesn’t want to stay. 

“Can we at least drive you home?”

Home, Gavin thinks. There’s an ache in his chest where home should be, unsure as to what would ever fill that void. Certainly not Aria. His gaze lingers on Freelancer for just a moment.

“You don’t need to trouble yoursel-”

“It’s no trouble at all, Gav. Please, let us do this for you.” 

It’s odd, having people constantly showing how much they care about you. It’s not something he’s used to, that’s for sure. But the Freelancer and Lasko (and Huxley and Damien) have never wavered in their intentions.

A sigh. “Okay.” 

The smile that spreads across Freelancer’s lips is radiant. So much so that Gavin thinks to reconsider their proposal. He could stay, if it meant getting to see them smile just a few hours more. 

Another unfamiliar ache.

Neither of them bother to get dressed in more than pajamas as they lead him to the car, Lasko choosing to drive as Freelancer settles into the passenger seat. 

It’s quiet and warm in the back. Gavin sprawls across the entire row, like it’s his own personal throne. 

The hazy glow of streetlights passing by puts them all in a dream-like state, time passing slowly around them. 

No one will say it out loud, but they wish this moment would last. 

Lasko laughs at something Freelancer said, and the silence is broken. 

“Come on, you really don’t remember?”

“N-no, I don’t! And probably for good reason. My mind blocked it out as an act of self-preservation.”

“It wasn’t that bad, and you know it.” They meet Gavin’s gaze through the rearview mirror, offering him a sleepy smile. 

“Did I ever tell you about Lasko and I’s first date?” Freelancer asks, and Lasko’s face turns a deep shade of red. 

“D-d-do not tell him.” 

They rest a hand on his thigh, squeezing lightly. Gavin can taste his returned arousal at the touch.

“Oh, please, Deviant. I’d love to hear it.” 

Lasko groans in response, making both of them laugh. 

───── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ─────

“...and it didn’t matter anyway, because all we could taste was oranges. I swear, it was under our skin for weeks.” 

“Now there’s a thought,” Gavin ponders. “Orange flavored kisses.” 

Freelancer smiles as they play the memory over in their head, Lasko still flushed from embarrassment. 

“We tried to find the stand again later that week, but it was gone. Shame. They were the best oranges I’d ever had.” 

Gavin’s apartment building comes into view, and he tries not to linger on the disappointment in the air. It belongs to all three of them. Maybe he should have stayed. 

The conversation slows, all of them hoping if they don’t speak, the night won’t end. 

Lasko finds a space to park, a good distance away—anything to prolong this moment. 

“Let us walk you back.” 

This time, he doesn’t protest. 

When they get out of the car, the first thing Freelancer does is take his hand. Lasko is quick to take his other one, and together they walk. 

Their love is intoxicating, he thinks. He could drown in it if they'd let him. 

“Thank you both, for tonight. It means a lot that you would trust me with this.” 

“We like you, Gavin.” Freelancer rests their head against his shoulder in emphasis, slowing down just a little. “We’d trust you with anything.”

Lasko hums in agreement.

When they reach the door, none of them make a move to open it. 

“I had fun tonight,” Gavin sighs, squeezing both their hands. Freelancer stills rests against him, seeking warmth and comfort in his body. It’s odd, being touched with no sexual intent. It’s taken him a while to get used to it with. Honestly, he’s not sure if he would ever, fully. 

“Me too,” they mumble into his shoulder. 

Lasko frees his hand from Gavin’s and hesitates just a second before kissing the Incubus. It’s soft and sweet–and all too short for his liking. “T-thank you, Gavin.” 

Freelancer pouts, making both of them laugh. “I want a kiss, too…” 

“Come here, Deviant.” 

Gavin kisses them as softly as Lasko kissed him, in no hurry to stop or say goodbye any time soon. They stay like that for a while, trading kisses and hushed gratitude in the dimly lit hallway. 

“You’re always welcome, you know.” Freelancer whispers against his lips. Lasko nods, finally taking a step back. 

“I-In our bed, or otherwise.”

“We meant it when we said we like you. You’re our friend, Gavin, but you’re more than that, too.”

He fights the urge to brush it off, choosing instead to say, “Thank you,” for the hundredth time that night.  

He opens the door, lingering for just a second. “Goodnight, you two.”

“Goodnight, Gav.” Lasko smiles, pressing one more chaste kiss to his lips. 

“Sweet dreams,” Freelancer mimics him, following up with one more to his cheek. 

When the door closes, he allows himself to feel the emptiness that threatens to devour him. Being together with them was so filling it almost made him feel sick, he wasn’t prepared for the gaping hole that would be left when they were gone. 

It takes every ounce of self-control he has not to rift back to their apartment, cuddle up with them in bed, limbs tangled together so thoroughly they’re sure it’ll leave bruises where they’re pressed together. 

For tonight, it was enough. To be chosen by them, worshiped and adored. Any lingering worries were soothed away when he thought of Freelancer’s hands on him, Lasko’s moans, the way they fought over kissing him, neither one of them able to get enough.

[tozettastone]

"That other unnamed Grimmjow/Ichigo (Bleach) fic," is actually a fic in which I skimmed so many of the omegaverse fics (which, can confirm, I still don't enjoy) and a bunch of the mating cycles/in heat fics and decided I too could write about the hollow urge to bone.

It's a fic about how Ichigo experiences a fairly minor change in his libido relating to the awakening of his inner hollow and, because he is a teenager, responds like the world is ending.

My draft is a draft and subject to change, but this is the vibe:

"Like a cow?" is the first thing Ichigo thinks to say, puffed up in indignation. It's not Ichigo's fault, really. He remembers, very vaguely, a life sciences class from when he was fifteen. Everyone picked an animal about which to research the life cycle. Ichigo, naturally, had been late — important shinigami business, naturally — and the only approved animal left had been domestic cattle. That was the last time he heard the word "oestrus." It has been living on the back shelf of his brain ever since. It's definitely not a term he expects to hear used about himself! Urahara blinks at him from over his fan. He opens his mouth. Closes it. Opens it again. "Not... exactly," he says. Ichigo gets the sense that he has, for once, surprised him. "Many mammals experience oestrus cycles, Kurosaki-kun. Humans are actually in the minori—" "Urahara-san... Is this some kind of bad joke?" Ichigo can't imagine otherwise, but he also can't figure out why this is the joke Urahara is telling. His sense of humour usually runs high to pervy shit, but it's usually aimed at pretty young girls, not... "You're telling me everyone with an inner hollow is going around in — in season?" Like a farm animal? "Ah. No." Urahara tilts his head so that the shine of one eye peeks out from under the shadow of his hat. "This kind of thing... it's hollow biology. It's not something that affects vizards. I've never seen it on paper before and I've never studied its effects." "If it doesn't happen to vizards, why would it happen to me?" Ichigo demands. Urahara tucks one hand behind his head and titters an obnoxious little laugh, because he's clearly not taking this anywhere near as seriously as Ichigo wishes he would. "You're unique! It's hard to predict these things with your hybrid biology, you know. But as far as I know, there's no reason to suspect it will make you do anything you don't already want to. You'll probably find yourself shorter tempered and more restless, and what you want in a partner may change for the duration." His smile gets a smidge wider. "This is a confusing time of any young man's life, Kurosaki-kun, but you shouldn't worry if you have any... new urges." New urges. New urges. Like he's twelve and just discovering his dick can get hard at inopportune times? He surfaces from his mortification for long enough to scrunch up his face. "That doesn't make any sense," Ichigo protests. "I can't be... doing that. For one, I'm a man." Urahara snaps his fan open just to use it to gesture dramatically, like if he pulls off a flashy enough act Ichigo will somehow resist the temptation to smack him in the face with it. Ichigo will not resist that temptation. "Ah, but these measurements suggest otherwise, Kurosaki-kun. It's not really dependent on sex for hollows, either... they don't reproduce sexually. Besides! Who knows, perhaps there's a lonely hollow love out there just waiting for you to imprint on he — Oof! Ouch!" Ichigo tosses the lightly bloodied fan onto the desk, turns on his heel and stalks towards the shop's entrance. Chad blinks up from his intense staring competition with Jinta, but whatever he sees in Ichigo's face is enough to prevent him from following him. "Aya... my own fan," sighs Urahara behind him. Then he raises his voice, so that what follows Ichigo out into the rainy Kurakara afternoon is: "It's important to keep an open mind, Kurosaki!" "Pass!" Ichigo bellows back.

Anyway I'm going to ruin his life. For fun! :)

Okay, here's what's going on right now:

I was going to name the Ishida/Szayel (Bleach) fic "The Way To The Top" but despite the subject matter it has turned out way less comedic than I thought it would be, so I may have to rename it. Regardless, it's currently 18,000 words long and still somehow going.

The latest Maddieverse fic (Naruto) is "Where The Heart Is" and it's currently 22,000 words long. I am more or less still following the outline and have not run into any sudden debilitating snags. It continues.

That other unnamed Grimmjow/Ichigo (Bleach) fic is 3,000 words long so far. It's intended to be a one shot, but it feels like it's only about 30% done. I don't think I signed up for a 10k word fic but what the hell do I know.

I've also written 2,500 words of a prompt fic in which Maddie meets Sakura but I haven't ended it properly yet. But that also exists, I guess?

[moonluringfrost]

I do think there's a difference between "advice you've heard a million times and are sick of hearing" that's presented on a tumblr post that just happens to cross your dash, and like. someone directly commenting/messaging you to give you said advice.

like for example, if i see a post on my dash that says something like "anyone can draw! you just need to practice! here's some tips on how to make drawing a habit so you can do it more often!" then like. i can be pretty sure they didn't have me with my particular chronic pain in mind. they're thinking about the people that think they can't draw because they don't have 'innate talent' and are trying to help them. they're not talking to me, their post just happened across my dash. i can keep scrolling and it's no skin off my back, or maybe reblog it for people who actually will be helped by that advice.

meanwhile, if i make a personal post on my blog about how i can't draw and i have no plans on improving, and someone comes into my comments or messages and says "anyone can draw! you just need to practice more!" /then/ it's like seriously? come on. because that person's coming into my space intentionally, while random tumblr posts end up on your dash by chance, you know? one the author probably doesn't know you exist, and the other that person kind of came into your house to talk to you.

but i see a lot of people treating these two things like they're exactly the same and its like. huh. i get being frustrated about hearing the same advice over and over, but sometimes people just. aren't talking to you. and that's okay.

[szappan]

idk if this would be helpful to you but how about. you pick your fave 5 letters. then make up a thesis statement/question/thing that stars with each of thise 5 letters. and then make a poll and have people vote on it? not the same as getting assigned something specific but it might give you direction. in case you dont have any favourite letters here are my 10 top 10 if you want more examples 1. j 2. e 3. o 4. g 5. d 6. b 7. i 8. l 9. z 10. u

if this isnt totally your thing and youre not interest u dont have to reply i just thought maybe u need a nudge like this :-)

augh this is brilliant thank you my friend ill give this a spin :-) those are very good letters indeed!! thank you for your help, getting peer reviewed should be very useful, so ill think about those statements now!

[theheadlessgroom]

@beatingheart-bride

"I'm sensing a pattern here," Colin smiled from behind his glass, he and Callahan having gained a newfound respect for their brother's mother-in-law as they listened to her account of her youth; Randall, once he'd come down from his shock, was sensing something of a pattern as well-August's choice in words, calling his wife an "angel" when she came to his aid, reminded him of how he looked upon Emily as such when they met that first day at the haberdashery.

Randall smiled as he glanced back at his wife, taking her hand in return as he looked back to his grandmother, asking, "Ho-How long did you stay in burlesque? A-After you met Grandpa, I-I mean."

"Not very long," she admitted. "We had a good turnout to our performances, but there was also a lot of pressure to shut us down, and eventually, we had to give in. The protests were getting much more...brazen, you could say, got pretty rowdy. August started walking me to and from work, just to make sure I was safe-I appreciated it, though I think I would've been just fine had anyone been bold enough to get physical." She used to keep a small knife in the bodice of her outfit, and she knew perfectly well how to use it.

"So, as they say, all good things must come to an end, and so, our little troupe parted ways," she shrugged. "Some went up to New York in the hopes of striking it big onstage up there, some stayed in town, settled down like I did. Some actually turned and join the protesters, a way of cleaning up their image, which broke my heart-they were such nice girls, and they enjoyed their work! It was a shame to see them be so embarrassed about their past."

"So...what did you do afterwards, then?" Wilhelm asked.

"Mmm, a number of odd jobs," Josephine answered as she forked herself another bite of pancakes. "I worked as a librarian for quite a while, before I eventually got into working at the fabric shop: I carried rolls of fabric, stocked the shelves with balls of yarn and spools of thread, that sort of thing. I knew my way around a needle and thread, I used to mend mine and the other girls' outfits, but working at the shop inspired me to get into more than just stitching and darning. It's how I got interested in making quilts and afghans-by the time June was born, I'd gotten pretty good at it. I'm glad to hear my grandson's followed in my footsteps, so to speak-I look forward to seeing more of your handiwork, Randall."

At this, Randall brightened with a shy smile, rather touched to hear this-maybe there was some hope for being accepted by his family after all!

"I still don't know what burlesque means," Lon pouted from his chair, having still gotten no explanation-all he picked up was that his grandmother had been a dancer, a bit like his mama. Trying to hide her amused smile, June chuckled, "We'll...tell you later, dearest."

[practicalsolutions]

I would have had to leave anyway. The neighborhood is under new management. Without full 30 days notice, they hired a sketchy skeleton crew as management, stopped making repairs, and cranked up pad rent by about 30%. They're essentially trying to price everyone out who owns their mobile home so they can build more rental properties. The managers are MIA for questions, but they'll bring in the surveyors and contractors all the same. People are legitimately gonna end up homeless because of this.

The mobile home I've been paying to eventually own? I have to give it up completely. It's too old to move, but I couldn't afford to stay even if I wanted to. Me and my ex roommate will have to take our names off the lease and walk away from the mobile home. She and her bf must find a new place to live, along with four cats. Not a lot of good options exist. They'll probably have to move closer into the city and settle with an apartment.

It's wrong and unfair, but there's nobody to step in and make it right again. I know, welcome to the world. 🤷

Maybe I could dedicate my time to fighting it, but I have enough on my plate as it is. Even where I currently am can't be forever. My step mom's place is falling apart. It's only a matter of time before a bad enough flood takes it all out.

So that's it. I'm her chance at a better place and others are counting on me as well. My gf and a potential roommate are counting on me to move and be able to help support them. There is no plan B. I'm it. I'm the backup. I'm giving up everything for this. There's nothing to coast on if I fail. Go big or go home? There is no going home until I make one.

No pressure.