#so long as people are polite about it ig

[imflyingfish]

This isnt a crazy statement but i still think that there should be better diversity on the life series. I mean specifically there should be more woman creators and creators who are poc.

Like 3rd life had ONE woman!!! WHAT THE FUCK?

Theres only ever been TWO non-white members of the life series! What????

Only 4/17 of the secret life members are women! Thats like 4 and a bit men for every woman! THIS IS THE SEASON WITH THE MOST WOMEN????

Like i know the gaming space is a bit messed up on this front but like cmon....

I dont think that the life series is like. Intrinsically bad or anything, but it would be cool if Grian/the team and such could take notice of these facts and help to change the server just a bit more.

[goldensunset]

i want to properly hit people with the keykid dalia lore but unfortunately i’m a perfectionist and i believe text should be accompanied with pictures in order to have a stronger impact which means i gotta draw which means it’ll never happen

[overcaffeinated-aro]

I got an email from my grandpa today and all the draft responses I’ve been working on in my head sound like an 18th century letter that’s going to have to travel for months to reach him.

pandemic year 5 really has me feeling like me and a very small handful of people I know are living on an entirely different plane of existence than everyone else

[dykesynthezoid]

Gonna say that I really don’t think shame is actually a very effective activism tool. Which isn’t to say you have to be nice to shitty people or w/e, bc anger has a very very important role in activism and you have a right to be angry. But I don’t think shaming people itself is really “activism.” I don’t think it’s effective and I don’t think it actually helps anyone basically ever. Communicating, calling someone out, those are very important. But shame on its own is just. Not a good emotion to make use of. Shame is so self-focused. When people are ashamed they’re only going to act to alleviate their own discomfort and humiliation. And a lot of the time they just shut down instead. It doesn’t actually push anyone to make long lasting changes in themselves and their communities. It just makes people feel like shit and makes for some really shitty “activists” who don’t have like, any idea of what constructive, restorative, healing activism could look like and only know to tear other people down

[persephoneflouwers]

-

[did-we-imagine]

💫 It makes perfect sense why Azula is such a good foil for Katara. I don't think she'd be another Katara in a better environment, but some of her personality traits could make her into a great protagonist (anti hero), had she not been indoctrinated, etc. I think the scene with Mai's uncle (Boiling rock's head warden) proves that she isn't as blood thirsty as some assume (during the interrogation scene).

Lovely take, OP🪷💐.

the reason why i love azula so much and consider her my favorite atla character is that not only does hit the beats for a compelling villain (charisma, vocal performance, character, good motivation), but also how tragic her character is. while i don't condone anything she's done, i do understand why she ended up the way she did and can't help but wonder if she could've ended up differently if she grew up in a less hostile environment since her desire for control and perfection eventually is her undoing.

[pintrestgrl]

Okay can you do dealer!theo(who’s kinda mean) with sweetheart!reader-😜 also I loveeee your work

yessss ofc !! also thank you so much, i love writing for all and any of u 🥹

anyways pls keep the theo nott asks coming, i love him. he’s the loml. anyways …

this is also kinda lengthy tbh so be prepared !!

enjoyyyy !!

mean!dealer!theodore nott with sweetheart!reader.

you never really seemed like the type of girl to smoke.

you went to all your classes, got decent grades, and were kind to any and everyone.

you wouldn’t hurt a fly; no one would ever think you would smoke weed.

that’s exactly why, you were very nervous about buying from the very well known dealer of hogwarts, theodore nott.

you knew him. a lot of people did. he was a bit quieter then the rest of his friends, and didn’t seem to have as many girls on his arm either.

you’d been waiting for the opportunity to ask him if he’d consider selling to you.

today seemed like a good day. mostly because you needed weed. desperately.

you got to potions, where slughorn had assigned new seats. coincidentally, you were sat directly next to theodore.

you were nervous, to say the least.

however, halfway into the class, you managed to gain the courage to write him a note.

———————————————————————

theo.

yeah?

u sell, right?

yeah.

can i buy, after school?

you smoke?

yeah.

then yeah. ig.

where can i buy?

my dorm. the one across the boys dormitory bathrooms

okay. thanks.

yw.

———————————————————————

you were silently freaking out inside. but, you managed to stay silent the rest of the class period.

the rest of the day went by very, very slowly. every lesson dragged on for what felt like hours.

however, as you sat and thought, a part of you felt like you were excited for more then just the weed.

maybe, just maybe, you were excited to talk to theo. get a glimpse into the mind that he kept so closed off.

finally, the day ended. you wasted absolutely no time, going straight to theos dorm.

you followed his instructions, before stopping outside the door. you took a deep breath, before knocking.

it took a few seconds, but he answered soon after.

he looked like he had just woken up, likely skipping the class periods after your shared one.

his hair was a bit disheveled, and his eyes looked tired. he had on a black t-shirt, and some grey sweats.

he spoke.

“you here for the weed?”

you nodded, a bit too nervous to speak directly to him.

he waved you in with his head, and you slowly walked into the room as he shut the door behind you.

you stood quietly in the room, the scent of cigarettes and booze filling your nose.

he dug into a drawer, pulling out about a quarter ounce of weed in a plastic baggy.

he turned back to you, before handing you the weed-filled bag.

you took it, about to dig in to your bag to give him his money, before you heard his voice.

“don’t worry about the money. it’s fine.”

you furrowed your brows, speaking.

“are you sure?”

he nodded, looking at your eyes as he spoke.

“yeah. just— stay here, and smoke with me. to pay it back.”

you slowly nodded, a million thoughts going through your mind.

why would he want you to stay?

he barely knew you.

a part of you felt a bit prideful, that he had invited you in though.

you spoke.

“yeah, okay. thank you, theo.”

he nodded, giving you a small half smile before beckoning you to sit down on his bed.

you listened to him, sitting down as you watched him roll 2 blunts on his desk.

he sat down next to you not too long after, suddenly shoving the pre-roll between your lips.

he brought a lighter up to the blunt, letting it burn the tip and watching you inhale. he put his in his mouth, lighting his as well.

he leaned back, letting the white smoke release from his mouth. you didn’t miss the way he watched how your lips wrapped around the pre-roll.

he spoke.

“i didn’t know you smoked.”

you awkwardly nodded at his sudden words, a polite, fake soft smile coming to your face.

“oh. um— yeah. i do.”

“you don’t look like you do.”

you felt embarrassed at his realization, knowing his words were facts.

“i know.”

it went silent after that, as you both smoked.

the weed finally cleared all your thoughts, giving you what you had been desperately craving the last few weeks.

you glanced over at theo, realizing how good he looked in your fuzzy state of mind. the way his arms looked in that shirt, the way his eyes glistened, god.

you were fucked.

you were staring at him, without realizing. his words snapped you out of your dream-like trance.

“quit starin’ at me.”

you quickly nodded, averting your gaze elsewhere.

“right. yeah. sorry.”

it went silent. yet again. for like, 10 more minutes. it felt awkward in the room, but you were too high to notice much.

he spoke.

“can i kiss you?”

you froze. did he just say that? like, in real life. it felt like a dream.

you spoke.

“what?”

he rolled his eyes, before repeating himself.

“can i kiss you?”

you furrowed your brows, so very confused. why the hell did he want to kiss you? of all girls.

you spoke.

“um— can i ask why you want to do that?”

“i want to kiss you because i want to kiss you. if you don’t want too, that’s fine. but if you do, tell me.”

you nodded, taking in his words. of course you wanted to kiss him. he was cute. and even if he wasn’t, you didn’t know if your fuzzy mind would let you not kiss him.

you spoke.

“yeah. um— you can.”

he didn’t waste any time, before leaning forward and taking your jaw in hand, turning your head and pressing an open-mouthed kiss against his lips.

he tasted like weed, and cigarettes. but his mouth felt addicting. almost as addicting as the cigarettes he was constantly smoking.

the kiss continued, only getting more heated. he took your hips, guiding you onto his lap to straddle his waist.

you whimpered into his mouth at the feeling of him under you, feeling his clothed bulge press against your panties, under your skirt.

he broke the kiss, but still kept his mouth right next to yours, breathing into your mouth as he spoke.

“you’re— really pretty. okay? i like— genuinely like you. i’m not just fucking you because i’m horny. i like you, okay? i’m not that much of an asshole.”

you ran his words through your mind multiple times, unable to find any untruthfulness in them. did he really, genuinely like you?

you mumbled, against his lips.

“i know you aren’t. just— god, can we please just— please.”

you rolled your hips against his a bit, trying to hint at what you wanted from him without saying it out loud.

he heard your pleas and began to reach towards the buttons of your shirt, before stopping and speaking.

“can i? please?”

you nodded, giving him full consent. all you wanted was for him to do whatever he pleased with you.

it didn’t help that all your senses were basically heightened, due to the weed in your system.

he unbuttoned your blouse, enough to pull it off you and swiftly unclasp your bra with the action.

he cupped your pretty tits, leaning you back with his hands to attach his lips to the soft skin of your nipple.

he pressed multiple kisses against your boobs, breaking heavily against the wet skin.

he moved his hand to pull your lace panties to the side, running a finger through your sopping folds.

he groaned against the skin of your tits, feeling the wetness coat his fingertips.

he quickly lowered his pants, freeing his hard cock out. he looked up to meet your eyes, silently asking for permission.

you nodded, breathless as he finally pushed inside of you, filling you up as you sank down on to his length.

it was shocking how much chivalry he had compared to his friends.

you felt his hands go to your hips, guiding your movements, you felt the mushroom head of his cock kissing your cervix.

you felt everything. way too much.

he helped you bounce on his dick, as he leaned down and planted kisses down your neck.

it wasn’t long before you felt the knot in your tummy get a bit too tight.

and you spoke. rather whiny, as well.

“theo, theo— god, ‘m gonna— please.”

“c’mon. let go for me, bellissima.”

you quickly nodded, a string of moans left your mouth as he moved his hand to your puffy clit.

you came. harder then you ever had before, a white ring forming around the base of his cock.

he followed right behind you, cumming a few moments later.

he came right against your cervix, filling you up to the absolute brim.

he held you close to him, his breathing hot against the skin of your neck.

he stayed inside you for a few minutes, before reluctantly pulling out of your welcoming hole.

you gained your breath back, before speaking to him.

“um— do you, want me to leave? it’s okay if you do—“

he interrupted you, shutting that idea down very quickly.

“no. stay— just, yeah. stay. please.”

you nodded, reluctant to agree with his words. he took his shirt off, throwing it on the ground somewhere before lifting you off his lap, and setting you down next to his body.

you hesitantly laid down against his bare chest, as his hand snaked up against your back, slightly rubbing the skin.

you both fell asleep almost immediately after, the weed relaxing both your bodies.

the last thought that kept playing in your mind, was if he was serious about his ramble of words from before.

did he really like you, or did he say that just to get in your pants?

you couldn’t tell,

and you weren’t sure if you wanted to ask, and find out the answer.

[cursingtoji]

11 and 21 with gojo please please PLEEK

One Bed + Hate Sex

⊱ ex!gojo x fem reader, smut, one face slap (on him), degradation but also praising ig?, possessive gojo, 2k words (this almost consumed me) ┊The Clichés ™

note: i got a litte crazy in the process of "why would i hate gojo" and ending up taking an extra prompt from the list for this so... ta dah ✨ ex boyfriend gojo enjoy

“It's been a while” Satoru greets.

One year it’s a long time, seeing him makes your stomach hurt but you realize you don’t carry as much resentment as you used to.

After your break you asked to be sent on missions far from tokyo, you knew eventually you would see Gojo Satoru again, and there he was, in casual clothes standing by the exit of the train station you agreed to meet at.

You felt him before you turned around the corner, and he felt you too. His six eyes could see the flames of your cursed energy increasing and decreasing as you tried to control your emotions. When you showed up he smiled, eyes hidden behind the sunglasses.

“Indeed.”

The director of Kyoto explained Gojo was meeting you there cause he got a lead on a special grade cursed object and you would be his companion on the search that would start tomorrow morning. That shouldn’t be hard, right? 

“How've you been?” he asks politely.

“We don’t need to do that” you reply quickly as both of you made your way to the cabs.

“Why? Am I supposed to not care for your well-being anymore?” his question would seem innocent to anyone, but you have trained ears for Gojo Satoru, and you can tell when he’s being patronizing.

“Yes, just like I don’t care about yours” you enter the cab and give the driver the name of your hotel, Gojo walks around the cab and sits beside you. The close proximity of him in this confined space already makes you uneasy.

“Don’t be like that, I know that’s not true” he puts his arm behind you, his cologne invading your senses and you consider rolling down the windows, but nostalgia stops you, “No matter what you say, i can still read you like a book” he whispers moving some strands of hair out of your shoulder.

Gojo knows you’re too well-mannered to do or say anything to him in this cab, you don’t wanna embarrass yourself in front of the driver even though he’s a stranger. Gojo always hated how much you cared about other people’s opinions — one of the things that you constantly fought about near the end of your relationship — yet he knew how to use that on his advantage.

The cab drops you off in front of your hotel and you leave Gojo to pay for it while making your way to the reception, giving your last name.

“I’m sorry, miss, I couldn’t find a reservation under your name” the girl at the reception says.

“Wha— didn’t you make a reservation?” you ask Gojo.

“I thought you were gonna make it” he shrugs and you have to restrain yourself from attacking him.

“Fine. Two rooms for tonight only” you turn to the receptionist again.

“Sorry ma’am, we’re all booked for tonight” she explains.

“Can you check again?” Gojo extends a membership card and she types something on her computer.

“Oh we have one master suit available for premium members” you roll your eyes.

“We'll take it” he says.

“Wait, just one?” you intervene.

“I'm afraid so, it’s the only room available for tonight.”

“So what’s gonna be, baby? Sleep with me or on the street?” he pushes his sunglasses down his nose bridge, wanting to see in detail your facial expressions as he teases.

“Don’t you dare call me that” you growl at him, “I shouldn’t have agreed to this mission” you mumble the last part looking around and considering your options.

“But it was not your decision to make, was it? You’re too much of a people pleaser to even question an order from those bags of bones you respect so much” he mocks bringing in a frequent fight topic.

“We'll have the room” you turn to the receptionist after realizing you didn’t have much to do anyways, right now you just look forward to locking yourself in the bathroom for at least one hour while you wash all the Gojo Satoru out of your system.

Gojo offered to carry your small one-night bag, but as expected you don’t let him take it, once you arrive at the room you can’t help but admiring how fancy it is. Just the kind of place Gojo used to get for the two of you.

“Good thing it’s a king size” you murmur looking at the huge bed, should be enough to sleep without touching him.

Gojo walks past you, pulling his sweatshirt over his head, the shirt underneath raising slightly but enough for you to take a peek at his back muscles and gulp.

“I'm going to shower” you announce, taking some clothes out of your bag and leaving your phone at the nightstand.

“Without me?” he blinks suggestively.

“Ugh” you slam the bathroom door in disgust.

Gojo laughs and lays at the bed getting comfortable, he reminisce the times when you were dating and he showed up at your hotel even if he was not part of your mission, he would get you a secret upgrade for a room with hot tub and sat there with you leaning on his chest while you talked about a future where you would be a teacher alongside him and not need to travel so much. Later he would assure the two of you would make it work through kisses and sweet whispers while fucking you slowly and passionately and take you out on a nice restaurant afterwards.

Gojo is pulled out of the memory lane by your phone’s message tone, he doesn't think twice before reaching to see what's your notification.

> did you arrive well? Xx

Suddenly he sees red. The contact name is unknown to him and he prides himself on knowing almost every sorcerer in Japan. So who the fuck is that?

Once the bathroom door opens, Gojo confronts you immediately.

“You moved on quite fast” you look up, noticing the phone in his hand and quickly trying to snatch it back before he disappears from the bed and reappears behind you.

“Don’t fucking test me, Satoru” you try again.

“Who’s he? Huh?”

“None of your business” you get closer and on your tiptoes to retrieve the phone, Satoru holds your wrist with more strength than necessary.

“Is he a curse-user? Kyoto faculty? Answer me” he pushes you until your back hits the wall, throwing your phone over his shoulder — not giving two shits if it breaks — and moves to be in between your legs, holding both your wrists above your head in one hand.

“None, get off of me”.

“Non— you’re dating a civilian?” he laughs, the psycho laughter gives you chills.

“You have no right to speculate about my own private life!” you tried to kick him, but he closed your legs between his own.

“That's why you broke up with me? To be with a boring fucking no-one?” that’s the angriest you ever seen Satoru, even when you fought he always kept his voice down, as if to tease you even more.

“I did break up and you didn’t even question it, did you? Didn’t even put up a fight!” you yell like you’ve been meaning for so long, after a big fight you yelled that you two should break up and his ‘yeah, maybe we should’ shocked you.

Satoru’s grip loses around your wrists, his big blue eyes look down at your anger filled ones seeing a hint of hurt in the features of the girl he fell madly in love with.

Fuck, he missed you so much.

You're panting at this point, both of you stay silent until your gaze falls to his lips, that's all the encouragement he needs to close the gap and kiss you, you gasp when the towel slides down to your feet, now physically and emotionally exposed to him. Gojo groans when he touches the bare skin of your waist and your arms fall on top of his shoulders. It’s incredible how quick you surrender to him, lips parting for him to taste his beloved one.

You can’t help the way your body reacts to him, not even when you attempt to rub yourself on his thigh and he stops you.

“‘S your boyfriend not taking care of you?” his tone drips mockery, a hand crawls up grabbing your breast harshly.

Before you can send him to hell his tongue is shoved back inside your mouth and you rub your thighs together already feeling yourself getting wetter.

“Fucking slut” he groans on your lips pinching your nipple and moving to cup your cunt, “Does he touch you like this? Like the whore you are? Or he treats you like a little delicate thing you pretend to be?”

Your palm acts fast to slap his cheek.

“Fuck” he moans, the burn on his face going stray to his dick as he ruts against your stomach.

Satoru slides the hand between your legs to spread your slick and press the heel of his palm on your clit, you whine, pressing your back against the wall.

“You’re not getting away from me, so don’t even try” your former boyfriend pushes his fingers without much resistance from your moist walls.

“T-Toru” you shut your eyes letting the nickname escape. This is all he dreamed of, having his name come out of your lips again, but he still couldn’t get over the fact you let someone else touch you, especially someone that did not understand you like he did. Someone that had no idea the type of job you had and how dangerous it was. Someone that would stand up during the mission assignments to volunteer for the most dangerous ones so you wouldn’t go.

“That’s right, baby, say my name” he curls his long fingers inside you, moving one arm out of his shoulder to guide your hand into his pants, where you quickly wrap around his length. You move his pants and underwear out of the way, the hot skin of his dick touches your stomach and you look down. And god, he has such a pretty cock it’s unfair.

“Wanna suck me, gorgeous?” he murmurs, watching the lust in your eyes, “Missed my cock in your mouth?” he hits the sweet spot inside you harder when you don't answer, “Say it” he grabs your jaw forcing you to stare at the dark ocean in his eyes.

“Y-Yes, I missed your cock” you confess, letting out all the times you pretended it was him pleasuring you instead of your fingers.

You squeeze his base when he fastens his fingers and your orgasm approaches, but it doesn't take long before he removes them and you whine.

“You’re all bark and no bite, all it takes is having your pussy played with and you get quiet” he bites your lobe, his harsh words make you wanna hide your face in embarrassment.

“Satoru, please” you beg and pull his pants all the way down trying to move to get on your knees.

“No, you’ll take what I give you” he grabs your arm and pushes you onto the bed, discarding his shirt before moving to position your knees on the mattress, “You’re lucky if I even let you cum tonight…” he strokes his cock with your remaining moisture on his hand before moving to bury himself in your walls, “... after everything you put me through” he confesses the last part in a hush.

“M-Me? Fuck you, Satoru” he fucks you roughly, not giving you time to argue back.

“Yeah, you” he punctuates with a particularly hard trust, “Can’t believe you were sleeping with someone all this time” his voice breaks but his pace doesn't.

You feel him in your cervix, but his tone pulls you out of your pleasure to explain yourself.

“I’m no— not” you whisper and he stops to lean over you.

“What was that?”

“I’m not… sleeping with him, he’s not— he’s no one” you confess slightly turning your head to look at him, his eyes squint as you feel his hot breathing against your neck and chest on your back.

“Good” he straightens up and pulls out. You turn around sitting on the bed and pulling him by the neck to kiss you again, Satoru complies, crawling with his lips attached to yours, until you're laying on the pillows wrapping your legs around his waist so he’s back inside you, “Missed this cunt so bad” he cups you again, feeling the way your lips stretch to his length while sucking on your nipples.

You arch your back “Hate you so… much— agh!”

“No you don’t, you never have” he bites your nipple and your nails sink on his back.

“This is pretty empty for an all booked hotel” you comment when you sit at the restaurant for breakfast the next morning with a cup filled to the brim with coffee, having slept only 4 hours since Satoru kept you up all night, denying your orgasm until you begged and apologized.

“Is it?” Gojo tilts his sunglasses looking around, finding only four other tables occupied while you stare at him suspiciously. He wonders how long it’ll take for you to find out that on the way there he booked every single room except one so you wouldn’t have a choice but to be with him.

see also: Gojo + Fake Dating # Toji + Forbidden Love

[roanofarcc]

THE OLD FASHIONED WAY

pairing. trevor lefkowtiz x alive!reader

summary. You had always regarded your ability to see ghosts as odd, until you met Sam and her eclectic group of ghosts.  

warnings. kind of/kind of not happy ending, ig? sad trevor :( angsty and a little flirty. reader gets stood up.

word count. 3.8K || masterlist

a/n. alive!reader HURTS but in the best way

trevor tag list. @marcos-scorpion , @youngdumbamericanteen

“I have one last, fun, interview question,” Sam said and you inwardly cringed. You had sat through so many job interviews that you knew a ‘fun’ question was normally anything but. Nevertheless, you smiled politely and nodded at her to continue asking. “What are your thoughts on ghosts?” 

You laughed, against your will. It was a reflexive response that you immediately regretted. “Sorry!” you rushed out. 

She didn’t seem put off by your laughing. “I know, it’s a ridiculous question. But the last guy that worked here…uh, this place may, potentially, be haunted. Not that I know, but there’s speculation. I just want to know how you feel about ghosts. Do you believe in them? Do you think it's all a bunch of mumbo-jumbo?” That was probably one of the oddest interview questions you’d ever been asked, but it was better than explaining how your weaknesses were really strengths. It also felt pointed. 

You didn’t know Sam and she didn’t know you, but the question made it sound like she knew your weird talent. And for some reason, you didn’t feel the embarrassment you normally did when someone brought up the concept of ghosts. There was something about Sam that compelled you to tell the truth, even against your better judgment. 

“Actually, that’s kind of a funny story-” you started, but were cut off.

“Samatha, when you are done, your assistance is needed in the television room. Someone believes it is his turn to watch another horrible film of space nonsense, but I distinctly recall it being my turn to watch those horrible women pick out whorish dresses for their weddings.” A woman appeared at the threshold of the entryway and the living room, dressed in a gown not from that century with her red locks pinned up in a curious updo. You were taken back, confused when your eyes fell on the man that stood beside her, dressed formally on top but lacking anything but socks and shoes on his bottom half. 

“First of all, Star Wars is not ‘space nonsense’ it's one of the biggest movies, like, ever,” the man started. “And second of all, you just got to watch your pick two days ago.” 

Sam cleared her throat, ignoring the two with a tight-lipped smile. You looked between the two, which seemed to confuse them. “I’m so sorry, will you excuse me for one second? I’ve got to take care of something really fast.” 

“Yeah, of course. Take your time. I don’t mess around when it comes to Star Wars either,” you said. 

The two people overlapped in with a ‘what?’ and an ‘excuse me?’ Sam stared at you wide-eyed, mouth slightly agape as she looked between the two figures behind her and you. “Hold on, can you see them?” 

It took a moment for you to understand why that was odd, which was too long if you were being honest. Obviously, no one was walking around in a gown like that or pantsless for no reason. You weren’t looking at cooky guests, but rather ghosts. Did nowhere not have any spirits lingering? It seemed like every job you worked or applied to had ghosts haunting the building. Though, you supposed out of all of the places, it did make the most sense for the old mansion to be haunted. 

But Sam wasn’t a ghost, but she seemed to be able to at least hear the ones in the threshold. “Can you see them?” you asked. 

“Y-Yeah. I can.” 

“Me too.” You have been able to see ghosts since you were little. As a child, most of your friends were the collection of ghosts that inhabited your childhood home. You thought you’d eventually outgrown it, but you never did. Now, nearly everywhere you ventured, you encountered dead people. It was interesting, a little obnoxious at times, and often made you feel like a freak of nature. But the woman in front of you could see them too; that was a first. 

Sam sat speechless for a moment before she said, “You’re hired.” 

--

You weren’t sure what to expect, working in the haunted mansion. In your lifetime, you’d encountered just about every kind of ghost, so you prepared yourself for anything when Sam introduced you. The Woodstone ghosts were an eclectic bunch, comprised of ghosts spanning nearly every decade. They were interesting, to say the least. But even if they had ended up being terrible, you were just happy to be around someone who shared your ability to see them. 

Sam and Jay had set you up at the front desk, putting you in charge of checking in guests. And when it was slow, the Woodstone ghosts often found their way to you if Sam was busy. 

One ghost in particular liked to hang around you, Trevor. He was the definition of an overgrown frat brother, with a lazy smirk and incessant flirtatious attitude. Every time he sauntered up to the front desk, calling your name, you made a habit of rolling your eyes. 

“Good morning,” you greeted, tone flat as you clicked away on the computer. 

Trevor leaned against the desk, his gaze burning into the side of your face. “How you doin’?” he said, and you sighed. 

“Watching Friends again, I see?” 

He blew air from his cheeks, deflating just slightly. “I’m a little rusty, okay?” 

“Rusty? At what?” 

“This,” he pointed between you and him. “Flirting.” 

You laughed and shook your head. “Is that what’s happening?” 

“Well, yeah. My flirting with Sam is useless because she and Jay are annoyingly sweet together. But you…” Trevor trailed on, a smirk on his lips and a certain cocky attitude wrapped up in his voice. 

“I hate to burst your bubble, no-pants, but we’re not exactly… compatible.” 

He raised his brows. “Because I’m dead?” You winced slightly. You didn’t want to be the one to say it; some ghosts were really sensitive to that, but Trevor didn’t seem too bothered. He shrugged like he saw it as no big deal. “I see that as a minor roadblock.” 

As much as you wanted to roll your eyes once more and shut him down, you were impressed at his relentlessness. 

-- 

You thought after a couple of weeks of working at Woodstone, Trevor’s ploy to win you over would fade alongside his attention. But he started to hang around you even more than when you first started, and you two had created a weird but kind of nice rapport of his continued flirting, peppered with more authentic conversations sprinkled in. He told you stories of his college days and the assholes he befriended before they ended up killing him in that every house. You told him about your own school days and how you were currently floating through the motions of young adulthood, trying to figure things out. 

“Scoring a job here was nice,” you said, comfortably resting your elbows on the front desk as Trevor stood across from you, listening intently. 

“Yeah,” he said. “Sam and Jay are pretty cool.” He paused, toying with the end of his tie. “So, you think you’ll stick around?” 

A small smile fell across your lips. “I think so. Things are pretty interesting around here.” 

“Well, if you ever want them to be more interesting, let me know.”

“Oh, yeah?” you asked, raising your brows. 

“Oh yeah. I could rile up the basement ghosts, convince Thor minivans are enemy warships, you name it.” 

You laughed, shaking your head. “You are something else.” 

“Careful,” he teased. “That almost sounded like a compliment.” 

“It was supposed to,” you replied, not missing a beat. 

Trevor’s eyes widened just slightly, the smirk wiped right off his face and was replaced by something that resembled confusion with a slight fluster. Clearing his throat, he managed to say, “Oh.” You didn’t know ghosts could blush until that moment, even with their lack of blood, because Trevor’s cheeks tinted a light shade of pink as he made up some excuse to leave, mumbling something about helping Sass before he hurried away. 

You chuckled, resuming your work as another guest popped in. 

--

To say your dating life was pathetic would be a polite understatement. It was almost nonexistent, which is why when an attractive-looking person popped up on the dating app you forced yourself to get, you got your hopes up a little too high. Sam had encouraged you to go out on a date with them, excitingly helping you get ready and everything. 

You had been excited, believing it was a fresh start for you. First a new job and then a new romantic interest. Unfortunately, after waiting at the restaurant, alone, for a solid hour, you realized your dating life had quickly circled back around to being pathetic. Embarrassment didn’t quite cover how you felt as you left the restaurant and headed back home to wallow. 

The following day at work, the second you stepped inside the mansion, Sam was there with an excited energy, ready to hear all about your date. She grabbed your hand and dragged you into the kitchen before you could protest. She had made tea and had left off sweets Jay had made for the guests yesterday. The other ghosts lounged around the kitchen too, and you felt even more embarrassed to talk about your total bust of a date around all of them. 

But you slouched down in the one empty seat and let Sam push a mug of tea in front of you. 

“Tell me everything!” she insisted. 

You smiled politely but it didn’t stay on your face long before it morphed into a frown. “There’s not much to tell,” you sighed. “They stood me up.” 

“Wait, seriously?” Trevor said, seated beside you, brows furrowed. 

“No call, no apology, nothing. I sat there for an hour, like an idiot.” You rubbed your forehead, a scratchy feeling in your throat. There was no way you were going to cry in front of your boss and the ghosts. You tried to swallow down your emotions as you stared at the steam curling up from your tea. 

Sam’s frown deepened. “I’m so sorry.” 

“That is why you should meet suitors the old-fashioned way; not on the web,” Hetty said. 

“People meet online all of the time,” Sam said. “Bad dates happen, but you’ll find someone.” 

“At this rate, I’ll die alone,” you muttered before realizing your audience. “Sorry.” 

“Dying alone not so bad,” Thor said, in his own odd way to cheer you up. “Die here!”

“Thor,” Sam sighed but you laughed lightly. “I’d prefer no one else to die in the house.” 

The Viking shrugged. “Just suggestion.” 

You picked at your fingernails, the same pit that’s been in your stomach since your ruined dinner last night turned. 

Someone called from the entryway, the newest guest at the mansion. You moved to stand, but Sam waved you off. “I got it. You stay here, finish your tea.” You started to object, but she left before you could. With a huff, you sank back down in the chair. 

“You’re young, you got plenty of time. If I learned anything from being alive, dating in your twenties is usually a, what’s that phrase Jay uses?” 

Flower piped up, “A shit-show!” 

Alberta nodded. “Yeah, a shit-show. Brush it off and get back out there, while you’re still young and hot.” 

You smiled. “I’ll try. But you might be right, Hetty.” Maybe dating apps weren’t the way you were going to find someone. Old-fashioned dating sounded a little bit like a nightmare, but you figured it’d pay off more than mindless swiping through apps until another asshole stands you up. 

“I normally am,” Hetty said. 

The ghosts dispersed, going about their day-to-day while you lingered in the kitchen. Trevor stayed with you, quietly drumming his fingers against his bare knees. “At least you didn’t get catfished by a dead dude.” 

“Excuse me?” 

“I did that once,” he said. “Catfished Jay’s sister, actually. I didn’t know she was Jay’s sister at first, obviously. But, uh, yeah. It was a whole mess. I tried to possess her friend’s body, but he ended up almost dying, so it was a total bust. Then Sam started putting the iPad in the drawer.” 

You laughed, that pit in your stomach easing just a little. “That’s insane,” you said. “A ghost on a dating app. For all know that’s why my date stood me up.” That sounded a little better than them just not being interested in meeting up with you in person. “But I doubt it.” 

Trevor shrugged. “It’s possible.” 

“I think it might just be me. I’ve never been great at the whole ‘dating’ thing.” 

“I find that hard to believe,” Trevor said. “Looking like that, I’m surprised you don’t have every weekend booked.” 

You shook your head, a little flattered and a little exasperated. “Definitely not. But by the sounds of it, you did.” 

He smirked, throwing his hands up in a ‘what can I say’ gesture. “I got around, if that’s what you’re implying.”

It was odd, being around ghosts. To you, it never felt super different than hanging around livings. Besides the ability to touch them, the ghosts were every bit as real as Sam and Jay. You had started to forget that the Woodstone ghosts were just that, until they did something that knocked you back to reality. Trevor, being the most recent death, made it even harder to tell the difference. You could almost convince yourself he was living. 

“Did you ever have a serious relationship before you died?” you asked, curious. 

Trevor thought for a moment before he shook his head. “Nah. I was having too much fun being a bachelor and screwing around with my buddies to care about anything serious.” He paused, his smug attitude slipping away a little. “I didn’t know I was gonna end up dying before I could, though. I guess I would have liked to.” 

“You guess?” 

He looked a little zoned out, staring at something across the kitchen with his brows slightly knitted together. “I don’t know, I didn’t think much about it until I died.” 

Sympathy fell hard against your shoulders, and you itched to reach out to Trevor and offer some kind of comfort but you couldn’t. Instead, you said, “I’m sorry.” 

He tried to brush it off, regaining his normal composure but it didn’t shine in his eyes like it usually did. “It’s whatever. I don’t ever have to worry about going on a first date again, which is nice; those were always awful. And getting your heart broken probably sucks, so at least I’ll miss out on that.” 

“You never had your heart broken?” you asked, impressed. Even though you’ve never had a super-serious relationship, you had a tendency to fall for your crushes hard, which usually resulted in a broken heart. 

“Nope.” 

“That’s pretty lucky,” you said. If you could go the rest of your life without a broken heart, you thought that’d be nice. 

--

“It’s an interesting choice for a bachelor party, don’t you think?” Alberta said, but you had to ignore her because of the group of men you were checking in. You did agree though. The B&B was perfect for weddings and romantic weekend getaways. It was the kind of place you brought a family or your parents, not a bachelor party. But the men didn’t look like the kind to get too rowdy. The groom, in your small talk, had said they were just looking for a quiet weekend to unwind before the wedding chaos. They wanted to play video games and board games, drink whiskey, and catch whatever game was on TV. It was rather sweet, you thought. 

“You’re all set. Is there anything else I can do for you?” The groom said no before thanking you and leading his small group of friends up the stairs. They weren’t up there for long though. After they carried in their bags and settled in, the group was back in the entryway, waiting for a car to take them into town, where they planned to bar-hop for the evening. 

One of the groomsmen found himself at the front counter, handsome and smiley as he met your gaze. 

“Do you have any bar recommendations? So far, our ‘bar-crawl’ only consists of two bars,” the groomsman asked. 

You hummed in thought before replying, “The Black Dog is nice. It’s right on Main Street, if you’re heading downtown.” 

“Do you hang out there often?” 

“Sometimes.” 

“So it has pretty company then, huh?” Your eyes widened and a flustered laugh fell from your lips.

From a couple of feet away, some of the ghosts had gathered to observe the new guests. A loud scoff sounded from Trevor before he said, “Seriously?” 

You ignored him in favor of not looking crazy in front of the guests. “Oh, uh, no-” 

“Oh, come on,” the groomsman said. “I’d say you’re pretty, really pretty, actually.” 

Your face felt hot, and you tried to focus on the man in front of you, but the ghosts refused to stop talking. 

“Get a load of this guy,” Trevor huffed. 

“He’s got game, I’ll give him that,” Alberta said, to which Trevor scoffed once more. “What? Look at him.” 

“Thank you,” you said. 

The groomsman tilted his head to the side, pausing for a beat before he said, “Would it be too much to ask when you get off work?” 

“A little.” 

He held his hands up and chuckled. “Fair enough.” 

“This can’t seriously be working on you?” Trevor said. “Look at this guy! He’s got khakis and a polo on!” 

“At least he is wearing pants,” said Hetty. 

“Unbelievable.” Trevor got closer to the counter, much to your disdain. It was hard enough trying to look sane in front of the guests when the ghosts were talking to each other, let alone you. “You’re clearly out of his league-”

“Enough!” you said, raising your voice regrettably so. 

The groomsman looked at you oddly. “Whoa, sorry I-” 

“No!” you quickly cut him off. “Not you! I was, um, I-” 

“Dude, let’s go! The car’s here!” the groom shouted from the front door, beckoning the groomsman over. 

He shot you one last smile, dipping his head in goodbye as he followed his friends out of the mansion. The door closed loudly behind them before the house was drenched in cold silence. The ghosts all stood quietly as you glared. “How many times have you asked you guys not to talk to me when I’m helping guests?” 

“I don’t know if that counted as helping-” Sass started but shut his mouth when you shifted your glare onto him. 

You mumbled under your breath before you left the front counter and bee-lined for the kitchen. Sam and Jay were out for the evening, leaving the mansion in your hands. 

You only got a singular second to yourself before Trevor appeared in the room with you. Rubbing your fingers against your forehead, you asked him. “What was that?” 

He pressed his lips into a thin line for a moment before he shrugged and said, “He was flirting with you, clearly, and was out of your league like I said.” 

You stared at him, the way he fiddled with his tie and avoided your eyes. Then it hit you. “Are you jealous?” 

He blinked. “W-What? No…” By the way, his voice trailed off, you felt a terrible knot tangle in your stomach. 

“Trevor…” 

“Don’t,” he quickly said, shaking his head. “Don’t do that. I don’t…I don’t need that,” he gestured to the very clear glaze of pity in your eyes, but you couldn’t help it. You felt bad, really, terribly bad. 

A heavy breath slipped from your lips as you walked toward him, placing yourself right in front of him. His lips tugged downward in a still sadness that made your heart ache. “I’m really sorry.” 

Trevor sighed, “Don’t be. It’s…ugh.” He pressed his hands against his eyes, laughing bitterly at himself. “I’m dead,” he said. “You’re not.” 

“Yeah,” you breathed out, unsure of what else to say. Maybe if you had met him in a different life, one where you both were either alive or dead, you’d take his flirting more to heart. But that wasn’t your current situation. You existed in different realms, untouchable but on each other’s paths. You’d never described your ability as cruel until that moment. 

“And I’m an idiot,” he added. 

“No, you’re not. If things were different…” Even saying the words aloud, they felt bitter on your tongue, doing more harm than good. You could tell by the wince that twitched in Trevor’s face. 

He smiled sadly, recovering from just the implication of your unfinished sentence. “But they’re not.” He let out a breathy sigh before he nodded his head toward the kitchen door. “I’m gonna go,” he said, slipping away before you could say anything else. 

-- 

The next couple of days passed uncomfortably inside the mansion. Trevor barely showed his face, and you felt worse and worse by the hour. Hetty and Issac kept you company at the front desk, making light conversation between their reassurance that Trevor would be okay. But your guilt weighed on you. You didn’t know how to make it better; you feared you wouldn’t be able to. 

But things came to a turn on the last day the bachelor party was there. The handsome groomsman had left his number on a slip of paper that you crumbled and shoved in your pocket, heavy on your side. You watched as they pulled out of the driveway and when you were alone, you unrolled the paper with his number, staring at it so intently you missed a presence appear beside you. 

“You should call him.” Trevor’s voice started you. You yelped and clutched your heart, which brought a small smile to his lips. 

“What?”

He sighed, shifting in his shoes and looking a little unsure of himself. “That’s his number, right?” You nodded. “You should call him.” 

“Oh, no-” 

Trevor cut you off. “Why not?” Because you felt bad, but you didn’t need to say that for Trevor to understand. “Don’t not call him because of me. Seriously, I…I lied when I said I’ve never had my heart broken.” 

You peered at him, confused. “Why?” 

“Because it sounded a little pathetic to say I crush hard. I liked my recess teacher so much that I cried like a baby when I had to move to fourth grade. In high school, my girlfriend of two weeks broke up with me because she was moving schools and I faked sick for three days because I was so, embarrassingly heartbroken. It’s just how I am,” he admitted, much to your surprise. “But I’ll get over it. It’s like not it would have worked out with me being dead and all. It was stupid.” 

“It wasn’t stupid,” you said. “And you’re not pathetic. It’s sweet, actually. Really sweet.” 

Trevor shrugged. “I’m glad someone thinks so.” He pointed a finger at the paper in your hands. “Call him, okay? You deserve a good date, the old-fashioned way.” 

And so you did, the old-fashioned way.

[papasmoke]

We've only had two real poster presidents, Obama was our first, Trump our second. Bush Jr was the furthest thing from a posting president we've had since Ford, his dad had more of a poster's soul than him, Kamala & Joe both exclusively post for career purposes which does not count, Bill is probably in 20 year old women's IG replies on a burner but that's just speculation. Reagan is a non-starter, even if he'd lived to be 120 years old he'd just have traveled a circuit of televangelist churches, AM radio stations, & MIC conferences up to the present day. Carter probably follows his great great great grandchildren on instagram and has posted all caps comments under their wedding photos but again this is just speculation. No I'm not going to do any research for this post, I'm painting the light ok? For our confirmed posting presidents I wouldn't call either of them terrible at it in the way someone like Elon is or inept at it the way someone like Dean Norris(SEX GIFS) is but I would argue Obama's posting has been more pathetic. During his presidency Obama was purely a career poster but post-presidency he's turned himself into a celebrity & that's because that's who he holds the most respect for, it's why he does these netflix shows and puts out his music list every year and hangs out at parties with famous actors constantly, it's why he has been so inactive politically, he never gave a shit about any of that he just wanted people on TV to like him which they always have and he's living the life of a god now but that means there's zero friction in his life and his posting sucks because of it, it's textureless slop. Trump also respects and wants to hang out with all the same famous people but they all hate him and he resents them for it and that's fueled his posting for a long time. I think Trump's posting has been at its best when he's upset with someone famous he's been to the same parties as for 30 years and is at its worst when he's getting fellated by all the right wing ghost goblins and ghouls of America. Anyway my point is if the internet had been around in the 60's JFK & Nixon would have identical posting dynamics to Obama & Trump, also LBJ would have posted his cock and balls online and died before anyone had a chance to find out if it was an accident.

[baelabong]

ᴛʀᴏᴜʙʟᴇ

ꜱᴏᴘʜᴏᴍᴏʀᴇ!ᴡᴏɴʏᴏᴜɴɢ x ꜰʀᴇꜱʜᴍᴀɴ!ꜰᴇᴍʀᴇᴀᴅᴇʀ

plot: wonyoung likes you. but you’re off limits

notes: this is a LEGAL age gap yall, wony is around 20 and y/n is around 18,3k words, fluff, lowkey cliffhanger ig??

You're in your last period of the day, calculus, and the clock seems to be moving slower than usual. Your mind drifts as you solve the problems in front of you, the equations almost too easy at this point. The steady hum of the classroom is interrupted only by the occasional tap of a pencil or the rustling of papers. You’ve always been ahead of the curve—top of your class, already accepted into an elite college. But no one ever lets you forget that you’re still just a high school student.

“Y/N,” a voice snaps you out of your thoughts. You look up to see your teacher giving you a pointed look. “I know this might be easy for you, but try to stay with us until the bell rings, alright?”

A few classmates snicker, but you just nod, giving a polite smile. You’re used to this—the subtle reminders that no matter how mature or capable you are, you’re still the youngest in the room, still the one they all see as a kid.

When the bell finally rings, you pack up your things and head out, ready to go home and unwind. But as you step into the hallway, your phone buzzes in your pocket. It’s a text from Ningning.

Ningning: Hey, I’m dragging you to a college party tonight. No excuses.

You sigh, already imagining the chaos she’s about to pull you into. You:Not really in the mood, Ning. Can’t we just hang out at your place instead?

Ningning:Nope. You need to loosen up before college. You’re always studying. Trust me, this will be fun.

You hesitate, but you know Ningning won’t take no for an answer. Before you know it, you’re agreeing to meet her later, even though you’re not expecting much from the night.

Hours later, you find yourself at the party, surrounded by people you don’t know, in a setting that feels completely foreign. The music’s loud, the lights are dim, and the air is thick with excitement and something else you can’t quite place. You stick close to Ningning, feeling out of place in a sea of unfamiliar faces.

You tug at the hem of your dress—a new one Ningning insisted you wear tonight. It’s slightly more revealing than what you’re used to, the neckline dipping a bit lower, the fabric hugging your curves in a way that feels both thrilling and uncomfortable. You’re not sure if you’re pulling it down to cover more or if you’re trying to stop yourself from fidgeting.

Ningning had assured you that you looked amazing when you reluctantly stepped out of your room earlier, but now, surrounded by college students who seem so at ease in their own skin, you feel more exposed than ever. The house is packed, bodies moving in rhythm to the heavy bass thumping through the speakers. Conversations blend into a constant buzz that you can’t quite tune into, like white noise.

Every laugh, every shout, every cheer feels distant, as if you’re watching it all from behind a glass wall. You’ve been to parties before, but nothing like this. There’s a different energy here—one that makes you feel small and out of place.

Ningning, on the other hand, is in her element. She’s chatting with a group of people, laughing easily, while you hover awkwardly by her side. You try to focus on the conversation, but your mind keeps wandering, your eyes scanning the room, taking in the unfamiliar faces, the unfamiliar space, and the unfamiliar feeling of being completely out of your depth.

Then, across the room, you see her.

She’s standing with a group of friends, effortlessly commanding attention. She’s tall, with long, dark hair that cascades over her shoulders like a waterfall, and a presence that makes it hard to look away. She’s wearing a sleek, black satin dress that clings to her figure in all the right places, the fabric shimmering under the dim lights. The dress has a daringly low neckline, and thin straps that rest delicately on her shoulders, accentuating her collarbones. A slit runs up the side, revealing just a hint of her long, toned leg as she shifts her weight.

She’s paired it with simple yet elegant accessories—a silver necklace that glints whenever she moves, and a pair of diamond-studded earrings that catch the light. Her makeup is flawless, a subtle smoky eye that adds depth to her gaze, and a deep red lipstick that makes her lips look impossibly inviting.

Your breath hitches, and you feel your heart skip a beat. There’s something about her that draws you in, something beyond just her looks. It’s the way she carries herself, the way she’s engaged in conversation, her eyes sharp and focused, yet somehow distant. She seems so much more mature, like she’s already got everything figured out while you’re still trying to find your footing.

“Who’s that?” you ask Ningning, trying to sound casual, but your voice betrays you, trembling slightly as you speak.

Ningning follows your gaze, and a smirk plays on her lips. “That’s Wonyoung. She’s a sophomore here—confident, intelligent, and as you can see, absolutely stunning.”

You swallow hard, suddenly feeling the room closing in around you. “She’s… incredible.”

Ningning chuckles, nudging you playfully. “Good luck with that one. She’s way out of our league, Y/N, and trust me, she’s off-limits.”

But as Wonyoung glances your way, locking eyes with you for just a moment.

As you gather your thoughts and muster the courage to approach her, you notice her laughter subsiding as she scans the room again. Your heart races, and just when you think about turning back, she steps away from her group of friends with an effortless grace, her eyes locked onto yours.

Wonyoung, as you now know her name, walks towards you, her confidence radiating like a beacon. A warm smile dances on her lips, and you can’t help but feel a flutter of excitement mixed with nervousness. Her presence is captivating; every small movement feels deliberate yet natural, drawing you further into her orbit.

“Hey there,” she says, her voice smooth and inviting. The sound wraps around you like a comforting blanket. “I noticed you from across the room. What’s your name?”

Your heart skips a beat at the directness of her approach. “Y/N,” you manage to say, trying to keep your voice steady despite the butterflies swarming in your stomach.

“Y/N,” she repeats, as if savoring the name. “Nice to meet you! I’m Wonyoung.” She takes a small step closer, and the world around you feels like it’s faded away, leaving just the two of you in that moment. “What brings you here tonight?”

atmosphere grows more charged.

“I’m just trying to meet new people and have some fun," you reply softly, feeling a mixture of excitement and shyness under her gaze.

“New people, huh?” Wonyoung tilts her head, a playful smile dancing on her lips. “Well, I’d say you’re doing a great job at standing out. I couldn’t help but notice you. You looked a little lost among all these partygoers.”

You let out a nervous laugh, running a hand through your hair. “Yeah, it’s a bit overwhelming for me.”

Her eyes twinkle with interest. “What do you mean? Is this your first college party? You know, it can be a bit wild. I’ve been there.”

You nod, feeling a little more comfortable. “Yeah, I- t’s a big change. I’m figuring everything out, really.”

Wonyoung leans against a nearby wall, her posture relaxed and inviting. “That’s totally normal! College is a whole new adventure. But I think you’re going to love it—especially if you keep that cute energy of yours.” Her gaze sweep over you, appreciation evident in her eyes.

You can’t help but feel flustered as you notice how she looks you up and down with intention, her eyes lingering just a moment longer on your face, making your heart race. “You really think so?” you ask, trying to fight the shyness creeping back into your voice.

“Absolutely,” she replies, her tone flirtatious. “You’ve got that special vibe, Y/N. It’s captivating.”

Feeling emboldened by her words, you decide to lean into the conversation a bit more. “What about you? You seem to be the life of the party.”

“Well,” she shrugs playfully, “I do try my best. Life’s too short not to enjoy it. Plus, it’s a great way to meet intriguing people like you.” She takes a step closer, her voice lowering. “Tell me, what do you find exciting? I want to know more about you.”

Your mind races with thoughts, but you manage to reply, “I like exploring new places, trying out different foods, and… I guess meeting people?”

“Meeting people? You mean like me?” She winks, and you can’t help but giggle nervously at her daring boldness.

“Yeah, like you,” you reply, feeling a warmth spread across your cheeks.

Wonyoung’s playful demeanor shifts subtly as she moves in a bit closer, bringing an intoxicating scent of vanilla and something floral. “Want to get away from this chaos for a bit? I need some fresh air, and I’d love to get to know you even better.”

The thrill of her attention overwhelms any lingering shyness, and you feel a flutter of excitement surge within you. “Sure, that sounds great.”

“Awesome! Let’s sneak out,” she whispers conspiratorially, grabbing your hand and guiding you through the throng of people. The moment her fingers intertwine with yours, a spark races through you, and you can’t help but steal a glance at her radiant smile.

Once outside, the cool night air hits your skin, refreshing and exhilarating. Wonyoung leads you to a quieter corner of the yard, away from the pulsating music and the din of voices. She retrieves a sleek pack of cigarettes from her bag and offers you one with a playful grin. “Do you smoke, or are you too good for it?” she teases, raising an eyebrow with a flirtatious glint in her eyes.

You shake your head, smiling despite the nervous flutter in your chest. “I don’t, but I’ll join you for the company.”

“Perfect,” Wonyoung says, her voice smooth and inviting. She lights her cigarette with a practiced flick of her lighter, and the small flame briefly illuminates her face. She takes a long, slow drag, her eyes half-closed as she savors the moment. The smoke curls lazily from her lips, drifting upward and mingling with the crisp night air. As she exhales, the smoke creates a hazy halo around her, adding an air of mystery to her already captivating presence.

She turns her gaze back to you, her eyes twinkling with mischief. “So, tell me something interesting about you—something I wouldn’t expect.”

As you share bits about your life and your transition from high school to college, Wonyoung leans in closer, her smile encouraging and flirtatious. She takes another drag, the cigarette glowing brightly against the darkness. The way she looks at you, her expression a mix of curiosity and admiration, makes your heart race.

“You’ve definitely caught my attention,” she says, her voice warm and direct. “I’m intrigued.”

Embarrassment flashes through you, and you glance down, but Wonyoung’s finger gently nudges your chin up. “Hey, don’t hide that away. It’s beautiful.”

Just then, the tension between you seems to shift. Wonyoung moves closer, her breath mingling with yours as you feel the warmth radiating from her. “You know, there’s something about you that makes me want to get even closer,” she murmurs, her voice low and smooth.

Your heart races as the space between you dwindles. “Really?” you breathe, feeling the electricity in the air.

“Really,” she replies, her gaze locking onto yours, and before you can register it, she leans in.

Her free hand settles on your waist, pulling you close. The touch is both gentle and firm, bringing you into the warmth of her embrace. Her fingers rest on your side, grounding you as if to keep you close in this quiet moment.

You look up at her, captivated by the way the moonlight softens her features and the warmth in her eyes. Everything else fades away, leaving just the two of you in this intimate space. You tilt your head up, eager to close the distance between you.

Your hands move to her arms, feeling the smooth fabric and the strength underneath. Your grip tightens slightly, showing your growing boldness, and you lean in closer. The kiss begins softly, her lips brushing against yours with a tenderness that quickens your heartbeat.

Wonyoung’s lips move slowly against yours, each touch deliberate and filled with intimacy. The kiss is a captivating mix of excitement and comfort, with you mirroring her pace, savoring each lingering caress and the warmth that builds between you.

Feeling a surge of confidence, you gently guide Wonyoung’s hand from your waist to your chest, pressing it firmly against your breast. Her hand meets your skin with a thrilling warmth, and her fingers begin to explore, first tentatively and then with increasing assurance. The sensation of her touch is both tender and firm, sending shivers through you.

Wonyoung’s fingers tighten slightly as she gently squeezes your breast. The pressure is a mix of firmness and tenderness, making you catch your breath. A soft, knowing smirk spreads across her lips, and you see the flicker of satisfaction in her eyes. Her gaze meets yours, reflecting a blend of pleasure and appreciation for the intimate shift in your connection.

The kiss deepens, and her hand continues its exploration, her movements growing more confident. You both start to breathe heavily, your breaths blending into a shared rhythm. The taste of her lips carries a faint hint of smoke from the cigarette she had been holding earlier, adding a subtle edge to the sweetness of the kiss. The lingering taste of smoke heightens the intensity of the moment.

A soft moan escapes your lips, mingling with the kiss and intensifying the connection between you. The warmth of your breath merges with hers, and you feel the sensation of your saliva mixing, binding you together in a more profound way. The kiss becomes a passionate exchange, each touch and caress drawing you closer.

Wonyoung’s hand explores further, her fingers pressing and kneading with growing confidence. Her smirk widens slightly as she feels your reaction, the playful, satisfied look in her eyes reflecting her enjoyment of the moment. The squeeze of her hand and the shared heat between you create a cocoon of intimacy, making everything else fade away.

You notice Wonyoung discreetly letting her cigarette fall from her fingers. It drops to the ground, and she steps on it, extinguishing it without breaking the kiss. The quiet act of removing the distraction is her way of signaling that you are her sole focus now.

With the cigarette discarded, Wonyoung takes an even stronger lead.

Her free hand slides from the small of your back to your ass, fingers wrapping around you with a confident, possessive grip.

The touch is firm and deliberate, pulling you closer into her embrace. You feel the heat and strength of her hand, which sends shivers through you as she presses you against her

With a smooth, deliberate movement, Wonyoung guides you backward until your back meets the cool wall. The contrast of the cool surface against her warm body heightens the sensation. Her hand moves from your waist to the back of your neck, fingers gently tangling in your hair as she deepens the kiss.

Her body presses into yours, creating a sense of closeness amidst the cool night air. Time seems to stretch, leaving just the feel of her breath, the way her body fits against yours, and the overwhelming sensation of being so close.

As Wonyoung's hand continues to explore and the kiss deepens, a sudden "Ahem" cuts through the moment. Both you and Wonyoung pull away quickly, faces flushed with surprise. Ningning stands a few feet away, her expression a mix of amusement and mild reproach.

Wonyoung, still leaning against the wall, shifts her head slightly, letting out a small, awkward chuckle. Her earlier playful demeanor fades, and she takes a step back, her gaze becoming more distant and thoughtful.

Ningning's tone is casual but pointed.

"We still need to go to Hanlim tomorrow," she says, referring to the high school you're attending despite Wonyoung and Ningning's enrollment at SNU.

The realization hits Wonyoung hard. Her eyes widen slightly as she absorbs Ningning's words, and she begins to retreat emotionally. "You're still in high school?" she asks softly, her voice carrying a mix of surprise and regret. "I didn't realize."

You nod, teeling a flush of embarrassment as the reality of the situation settles in. Wonyoung's earlier flirtatious demeanor shifts to one of reflection and discomfort. She steps away from you, her hand withdrawing from your ass, and her smile turns into a more apologetic expression.

"Yeah, I guess I got a bit carried away," Wonyoung says, her tone apologetic. "I didn't think about... well, the age difference or the fact that you're still in high school."

Ningning gives a knowing look and turns to leave, giving you both some space.

Wonyoung stands there, her expression now tinged with a mix of realization and regret. She looks at you with a sincere but regretful smile. "I'm really sorry," she says softly. "I didn't mean to overstep. I hope we can get to know each other in a more appropriate way."

Quickly bidding you a goodbye Wonyoung runs a hand through her hair while letting a heavy breath out seeing your retreating figure.

“Shit”

[nataliasquote]

Is It All For Nothing? | n romanoff

Summary: You just want a friend. Is that so bad? How is it fair that everyone else gets one but you. What did you do that was so wrong?

Warnings: idk. just depressing stuff ig

Pairings: none. a small bit of Nat x reader but all platonic

wc: 1.3k

notes: I wrote this in 45 mins in one sitting. It’s written in a different pov than usual and idk if it even makes sense. I just typed and didn’t stop until I was done 🤷‍♀️ the idea just came to me and yeah :)

-⧗-

Frankly, being on the sidelines sucked. Everyone knew it yet no matter how many times someone engaged in small talk to be polite or proclaimed they were there to talk to everyone, somehow you were always left out.

It didn’t matter where you were, loneliness followed like a dormant disease. High school sucked, you were a nobody, but thankfully those years were in the past. But your fifteen year old self didn’t realise that your isolation would carry right on over into your adult life.

And sure, it wasn’t all bad. The nights spent chatting with new friends you’d made that day left you on an all time high, but that just made the fall that much harder. And when the low inevitably came, you could only laugh at yourself at your naivety, because why would things suddenly change? You weren’t someone people stuck around for.

Unfortunately, Shield agents were no different. Those in your cohort were nice enough to say hi in the hallway or invite you into group conversations. A couple even chatted with you over lunch. But you knew they only did it because they felt bad. You saw the difference in their demeanor; you were a spy for god’s sake. They were so much happier with their friends, and that didn’t include you, no matter how hard you tried to convince yourself it did.

There was one agent who’s attention toyed with you that little bit more. Natasha Romanoff was a couple of ranks higher, both in social and training status. But she was always kind, no matter what. You conversed whilst waiting for your training session, mainly her listening as you talked. She was sweet, despite her intimidating facade and before long she had you completely wrapped around your little finger.

For a month, you both chatted any chance you got. If you saw her in the cafeteria, you’d make a beeline for her table, smiling at the other agents as you sat down. She responded to you, her eyes holding yours as you spoke, seeming actually interested in what you had to say. She would joke with you, calling you out with a laugh which sent a flush to your cheeks. You didn’t care what she said, she was talking to you. That’s all that mattered. Maybe this was where your life changed for the better. Evenings that followed those days would be blissful and you would fall asleep with a smile on your face, feeling on top of the world all because of the redheaded Russian.

However, as the weeks went on, days would go by with no contact. At first you just thought she was going on more missions; that was her job after all. But then you’d see that flash of red hair in a meeting room or one of the agents talking about something Natasha had said earlier and it hit you sharply in the throat.

Was she just like everyone else? Playing the pity card, building you up only to leave you hanging once she got bored? Natasha didn’t seem like that kind of person, but had essentially placed her on a pedestal, so of course she could do no wrong. That was your downfall.

Emerging from a debrief with Maria Hill, you tucked a stack of files under your arm and stepped out into the hallway. And there she was, a soft smile on her lips. You reciprocated it and made eye contact, opening your mouth to speak. You hadn't spoken in a few days and you hated to admit it, but you missed her.

But Natasha clearly didn’t feel the same. Her eyes caught yours and then darted to the floor, her feet picking up the pace as she walked past. “I’m sorry Y/n, I’m busy today. We’ll talk later.”

Except she wasn’t busy. Because there she was, standing at the end of the hall laughing with another agent in your cohort. It shouldn’t have been, but it was like a punch to the stomach and you quickly turned around, retreating back into the room you’d left to avoid her seeing you watching her.

You knew that agent. They were friends, everyone saw it. And she was nice enough to you too, but jealousy coursed through your veins and turned you into a green eyed monster.

What did she have that you didn’t? Besides the ability to win Natasha over, obviously. Every single interaction you’d had with the redhead suddenly started replaying in your mind, frantically scanning to see what went wrong. Did you overstep? Were you too pushy? Too clingy? You just wanted a friend, was that so hard to understand? Was it so bad to want?

You thought about texting her, but decided against it. You didn’t want to know the answer. What if your worst fears were confirmed? That she only spoke to you out of pity, and quite frankly didn’t want anything to do with you.

It hurt. It really did. Countless times you wished that she was the one that would change your bad history of making friends. Because when you were around Natasha, nothing else mattered. The days of no contact slipped out of your mind. You’d forgive her for anything in a heartbeat… maybe that was the problem.

You thought the world of her. And she saw that. ‘Never meet your heroes’ that’s what they say, isn’t it? And maybe she wasn’t quite at hero status for you, but you looked up to her. Praising her work when she returned from a successful mission, commenting on the ingenious moves she made to lead her team to victory. She was everything you wanted to be as an agent, with one seriously important factor.

Everyone loved her.

Everyone loved her, and nobody knew you. She was the prize rose and you were behind, stuck in her shadow. They didn’t see you as anyone but the agent who sucked up to Natasha. They didn’t see how hard you worked, how many hours you trained, how much effort you put in. And they never would. Because it was too much. You were a try hard.

A try hard in a room full of effortless people.

Effortless just like that other agent was. She’d been rumoured to move up into Natasha’s ranks and onto her mission team, leaving you struggling in the lower levels. It felt almost childish, yearning after the attention of one single person. But no matter how hard you tried, or how casual you tried to be, Natasha would never see you as anything other than a fan girl.

You knew she was capable of giving you what you desired, you saw it with that other agent. The way they laughed together, developed inside jokes and anecdotal phrases that they brought up in group discussions. You saw the way Natasha’s eyes lit up at the mention of her name, how she gushed over her but also teased her at the same time. Their effortless banter had you choking back tears as you sat one table over, watching with blurry eyes.

You wanted that so badly it hurt.

But if you stopped trying, stopped reaching out, stopped lusting after the perfect friendship you so badly craved with her, would she notice? Or would you fade into the background, silently, without a word. Maybe she would be happy, now that you’re no longer bugging her.

Maybe it’s for the best.

[bvidzsoo]

Your desire

⬦Sugar daddy!Seonghwa⬦

TW: suggestive

Word count: 3,9k

A/N: I hate the grip Ateez has on me, I have never ever written so many drabbles or whatever, I'm a long story kinda gal but here they are...torturing me. Anyways, Seonghwa went ahead and posted on IG today and when I saw him my mind instantly went omg that's some sugar daddy vibes, idk why, don't ask, thank you. Feedback is very much so appreciated! Enjoy!

            I really would have never imagined a year ago that I would be attending such an event like this one. It was even shocking to myself. But it looked like I was the only one who felt out of place as the people surrounding me seemed to know each other as they indulged in small talk and friendly chatter as if they were old friends catching up. The silky dress felt too tight against my skin and I couldn’t help but pull on it, hoping by some miracle that it would loosen up and wouldn’t wrap around my ribs as it was trying to suffocate me. The little golden purse I clutched in my hands tightly was expensive, too expensive, an item I could’ve never afforded by myself. I wasn’t into fancy things, so even if I could’ve afforded it at some point in life, I still wouldn’t have purchased it. The faces of people seemed to merge into one as I took a sip of my champagne, smiling politely when the older man next to me pointed his glass in my direction before taking a sip himself. I wished I were invisible, but the red dress and the red matching lips only placed me in the spotlight. And if it weren’t for my outfit, being by the side of Park Seonghwa, a successful and young CEO, definitely put me in the spotlight. I could feel the curious gazes of men and women alike, even the envy as some whispered as Seonghwa and I glided through the crowd, wanting to reach the bar. He said he needed something strong, perhaps some whiskey, as the people around us were giving him a headache. Currently, we were conversing with an elderly pair who were big names in the makeup industry, Choi San having joined us not too long ago. He was a rising CEO, almost always in the spotlight, as his magazine was becoming bigger and bigger, visited by more and more celebrities lately. He was Seonghwa’s biggest competitor, constantly challenging him publicly and often mentioning him when it had nothing to do with Seonghwa. Choi San liked to provoke people and taunt, living off of the hate and attention directed his way. I didn’t need to have a PhD in psychology to spot all these things, it was clear as day as he flashed his white teeth in the direction of the elderly pair, bragging about last month’s issue and how much money it made. The elderly pair didn’t seem too impressed, but they congratulated him before diverting their attention back onto Seonghwa, who was patiently waiting for San to stop his theatrics. If I wouldn’t have known Seonghwa so well, I would’ve never known he was irritated, his jaw barely clenched, grip just a little too tight on his glass of champagne. I quietly cleared my throat, getting his attention. His round eyes watched me, face devoid of any emotion, but the glimmer in his eyes assured me that he was feeling fine. I offered him a small smile and his cheeks twitched before he looked away, focusing back on the elderly pair. They were laughing about something I didn’t bother paying attention to, eyes falling on an already staring Choi San as I took another sip of my champagne. It almost made me choke; I couldn’t deny that he was a good-looking man, but I only had eyes for Seonghwa. At least for now.

“I’ve heard about the deal you made with an American firm,” San spoke up with a smirk, one eyebrow raised in Seonghwa’s direction, “Congratulations, breaking through on the American market isn’t something easy.”

Seonghwa chuckled, but it lacked humor, “San, when I made my breakthrough on the American market you were still running around, trying to find a headquarter for your company.”

The elderly pair laughed at the very harmless jab, but San’s smirk slightly faded, annoyed by Seonghwa’s comeback. He was probably right, but I wouldn’t know, I have never been interested in their world of business.

“You look gorgeous, Y/N.” The sudden shift of conversation made me tense as the eyes of four people fell on me, San’s a little hungrier than the rest. I forced a smile on my face, grip tightening on the glass of champagne. I wished the dress didn’t show as much cleavage as it did, and that my hair wasn’t in a low bun, unable to cover my shoulders, “Isn’t that necklace—”

“The latest Saint Laurent Teardrop Chain Links Necklace?” Seonghwa raised an eyebrow before taking a sip of his whiskey, “It is, San. And it’s custom made.”

San’s eyes fell back one me and I cleared my throat, feeling awkward, as the elderly lady eyed me a little bit suspiciously, I felt obliged to speak up, “It’s not something I usually wear, but Seonghwa insisted.”

“I think I have seen that dress on a magazine cover, not too long ago.” The elderly lady noted, eyes narrowed at me. I felt like they could tell how poor I actually was compared to them. It felt like a paper with the words ‘intruder’ was glued to my back and everyone was staring, pointing their fingers at me, or whispering vile things. I gulped, but before I could speak up, I felt an arm sneak around my shoulders, squeezing my arm lightly.

“You have seen it right, then, Mrs. Eom, it was on my magazine.” Seonghwa said with a smirk, sending me a wink which made me slightly blush. The day he saw it on the mannequin he sent me a picture and texted me that he’d get it for me. I refused, because it was truly too much and it also cost a lot, and also, I didn’t really have a fitting event where I would wear it to. So, I guess Seonghwa had to do something about that and that’s how I was dragged along to this fundraiser for disabled people. This wasn’t something which had been in the contract I have signed two months ago, but I didn’t dare bring it up when Seonghwa showed up to my apartment in the morning, holding two designer boxes and a designer paper bag. He said he didn’t have time to have breakfast with me, but he expected to see me in the evening, wearing everything he handed me. Before I could accept or refuse him, he was running off, phone at his ear as he spoke to someone important. I could only sigh and hope for a dinner in a very fancy restaurant, instead I found myself at a place infested with very important and insanely rich people. I was sure I even saw the prime minister like half an hour ago.

“Oh, delightful!” Mrs. Eom exclaimed, but no emotion came through her voice, eyes watching me almost accusingly. Why did an old hag have beef with me when she didn’t even know me? Before I could say something inappropriate, Seonghwa gave my shoulder another squeeze, swiftly taking his arm off my body. He seemed to know me well too, a glance at my face and he was able to tell what I was feeling and thinking. We hadn’t spent too much time together in these past two months, but it felt like we understood each other on a deeper level, beyond words even. I looked around as the orchestra started playing, the front of the room slightly clearing as people made place for those dancing. My eyes fell back onto Seonghwa, and as his eyes were trained somewhere else, I dared staring at him openly. He was an absolutely gorgeous man, breathtaking even. His black hair was slicked back with three strands framing the right side of his face, longer strands than the others poking around on his nape. His shoulders were relaxed yet his posture was straight and proper. His silky black shirt, with three buttons undone at the top, was tucked inside his black dress pants, an Yves Saint Laurent belt keeping his outfit together. The black velvet coat reached just bellow his thighs and his Yves Saint Laurent shoulder bag had been disregarded a while ago at the table we sat at. Despite my obvious staring, Seonghwa remained oblivious to it, however, San didn’t. His eyes were narrowed and lips pulled into a grin as we made eye contact. My cheeks burned and I quickly averted my eyes. Catching feelings wasn’t written into the contract, or what would happen if Seonghwa and I did fall for each other, a thing which was far from happening. I wasn’t in love with him, but I had eyes, and I found him extremely attractive. Whether he was dressed up or wore something casual, Seonghwa always looked spectacular. As a waiter passed with a tray in their hands, San quickly placed his empty glass on it and cleared his throat, interlacing his hands in front of himself.

“Miss Y/N, may I have the honor to dance with you first tonight?” San’s eyebrows were raised as he looked at me with a smirk and I stared at him without a reaction. Was I allowed to dance with him? Seonghwa was right next to me, he certainly wouldn’t like that. And I didn’t want to dance with him either, he sometimes made me feel very uncomfortable with his unnecessary comments and over the top compliments. But before anyone could interject, San took two steps towards me and then grabbed my left hand carefully, a smile erupting on his face, “Come.”

And before I could refuse him, he was pulling me after himself, making me hand my purse over to Seonghwa in a hurry as San lead the way to the dance floor. I felt awkward as curious eyes watched us, some people greeting San as we passed by. His grip turned firm and I could feel my palm get sweaty as I braced myself for what was to come. It couldn’t be that bad, besides, I would only dance with him for a short amount of time before I would excuse myself to the bathroom in hopes of getting away from him. San stopped in the center, facing me with a charming smile, sharp eyes watching me closely. I cleared my throat and placed my hand on his shoulder, allowing his hand on my lower back to pull me closer towards himself. I slightly tensed, but willed myself to relax in his arms. I didn’t quite enjoy dancing with Seonghwa’s competitor and biggest rival, especially not when I knew how much distaste Seonghwa had towards San.

“Fancy seeing you here tonight, Y/N,” San spoke up as he swayed us to the slow beat of the orchestra, “I didn’t think you’d attend such an event.”

San didn’t know what type of relationship was between Seonghwa and I, but he has seen us together quite often, always bugging Seonghwa whether I was his girlfriend or not. I most certainly wasn’t.

“It came as a surprise to me as well.” I admitted quietly, focusing on not stepping on San’s feet or on my own dress. The high heels were also slightly uncomfortable, I couldn’t help but be hyperaware of every move I made.

“So, Seonghwa didn’t plan on bringing you along, huh?” A satisfied smirk made it onto San’s face and I sighed, looking over his shoulder.

“He most certainly did since I’m here, don’t you think?” I couldn’t help but slightly snap, sending him the smallest glare as we made eye contact.

“Of course,” San chuckled, pulling his eyebrows up, “he wouldn’t want to leave behind his eye candy.”

His comment didn’t sit well with me, but I just bit the inside of my cheek and let it go, not wanting to give San the satisfaction of seeing me annoyed. He waited a few more seconds, probably thinking I was formulating my answer, but when the silence continued to stretch on, San chuckled to himself, looking amused as I dared take a glance at him.

“Everything you’re wearing tonight is quite expensive, isn’t it?” He continued, eyes running over my frame. It certainly felt uncomfortable as I could easily spot the lust in them as his eyes stayed a little too long on my exposed collarbones.

“Yes, they were expensive.” I hummed, looking over his shoulder when San glanced at my face.

“Bought them yourself?” His tone feigned innocence, but the smirk on his lips made it obvious that he was prodding and jabbing, “Didn’t think a university student could afford all of these things, to be honest.”

I gulped as my throat felt suddenly dry, heartrate picking up. Of course I couldn’t afford what I was wearing tonight, two months ago I could barely pay rent and the tuition fees for my course at the university. Seonghwa seemed like an angel in disguise at the time, however, lately I’ve been feeling guilty for accepting all of his money instead of trying to make some myself. In my defense, my itinerary was so packed I could barely find a place which would hire me even half norm, it was frustrating.

“Some of these were gifts.” I opted to answer, clearing my throat when San’s fingers slightly dug into my lower back, pulling me even closer to himself. Our bodies were almost touching, his musky scent invaded my nostrils. I certainly didn’t like it.

“You know,” He spoke up again, eyebrows furrowed, “Seonghwa is quite known for changing partners after like…half a year, I guess his standards are too high or something. Unless…”

My heartbeat paused for a second as I looked San in the eyes, “Unless, you’re not his girlfriend but his whore—”

“I think you’ve spent enough time with Y/N for a lifetime, Choi San.” The sudden harsh voice made me flinch as I carefully peeled myself away from San, heart beating like crazy as I turned my head. I was met with a furious looking Seonghwa, kind eyes pulled into slits as he glared San down, jaw clenched. I noticed the people around us glancing our way, and when my eyes fell on San his chest was puffed out and eyes challenging as he stared down the taller man.

“Seonghwa,” I whispered and curled my fingers around his bicep, getting his attention, “He’s not worth causing a scene, let it go.”

His eyes bore into mine as I heard San scoff at my words, but before he could open his annoying mouth and say something else, Seonghwa gripped the hand I had around his bicep and peeled it off, hand slipping to my wrist as he turned around and took off, steps hurried. I struggled to keep up with him in my high heels and even ran into someone, having to hastily apologize as Seonghwa wasn’t stopping anytime soon. I noticed the direction we were storming in, the restrooms. I gulped and realized Seonghwa was angry and needed time away from everyone, probably to give me a lecture and break off the contract we had. I could only hope he wouldn’t ask for the money back; I couldn’t remember if that was a clause or not in the contract. We rounded the corner and Seonghwa kicked the door of the restroom open with his foot, shoulders raising and falling rapidly as we entered the men’s restroom. A guy, who looked like security, was washing his hands, pausing when he noticed us.

“Sir—”

“Get out.” Seonghwa’s voice was low as he glared at the poor security guard, who seemed to be speechless for a few seconds.

“This is the men’s restroom—”

“And I said, get out.” Seonghwa emphasized his words again, staring daggers at the unbudging security guard, seemingly a glaring match breaking out between them. My nerves were rising, and I tapped my heel against the floor, biting my lower lip when nobody moved.

“Seonghwa.” I called out for him, but he didn’t look away from the security guard. However, the man broke his staring contest and looked at me, taken aback.

“Park Seonghwa?” He asked amazed and as I nodded, he quickly bowed his head and scurried out, making me let out a long sigh. My shoulders slouched forward as I pulled my hand out of Seonghwa’s, which made him whirl around and look at me with a sharp stare. I gulped and suddenly felt small underneath his eyes as his fury was directed at me only.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t want to dance with San, but I don’t think I had much of a chance,” I found myself explaining quickly, “And I didn’t want to cause a scene which would damage your reputation.”

Seonghwa took in a deep breath before releasing it, jaw clenching, “You’re not my whore, Y/N, you’re my sugar baby.”

I bit my lower lip, the term still making me feel slightly uncomfortable. I don’t think I could ever get used to it. I looked at the floor as Seonghwa sighed loudly again, realizing that he was angry at San and not me, having overheard his words.

“Yeah, I know.” I muttered as I saw Seonghwa’s polished shoes come into view as I was still looking down.

“You didn’t want to come tonight and I forced you into coming, I’m sorry.” His voice was soft and he looked guilty as I looked up at him, eyebrows furrowing.

“You didn’t force me, what are you talking about?” I asked confused.

“I saw how uncomfortable you were feeling all night.” He explained, playing with the rings on his fingers, “I also should’ve chosen a dress less revealing knowing your preferences, I’m sorry for that too—”

“Seonghwa, this dress is gorgeous!” I said with a chuckle as I pointed at it, hands shimmying down my hips, “Albeit a bit too revealing, and too expensive, but it’s beautiful and I appreciate your gesture, I hope you know that. Regardless of how I’ve been feeling tonight.”

Seonghwa gulped and took a step closer, eyes running over my frame before he looked back up into my eyes, “You are gorgeous, not the dress, Y/N. That’s just a piece of fabric.”

My cheeks flushed at his words and I averted my eyes shyly, feeling Seonghwa’s soft fingers grip my chin as he made me look at him again. He stepped even closer and his warmth wrapped around me, fruity scent enveloping me and making me shiver. Seonghwa certainly noticed as he studied my face for a reaction, but I was trying hard to contain the fluster I was feeling and my frantic heartbeat.

“Our contract is coming to an end next month,” Seonghwa whispered, as if he was afraid anyone would hear us, there was nobody but us inside the spacious and marble covered restroom, “Let’s extend it for another six months.”

“Six months?” I asked surprised, remembering well that Seonghwa’s contracts only lasted for three months. He hummed and nodded as he closed the gap between our bodies, tilting my head slightly up. It was rare that he stood so close and held me so boldly. We were rarely physical with each other, the occasional hand holding and kisses on the cheeks happened when I was feeling down or Seonghwa was feeling tired, and we made out a couple of times here and there when we were drunk. The contract made it clear that everything had to be consensual and if one person refused, it shouldn’t be brought up until they were ready to talk about it or made it obvious that they wanted it to happen. Seonghwa was a respectful and well-mannered man, there were few others like him, if none at all. My lips slightly parted as Seonghwa’s eyes fell on my lips and I closed my eyes when he started leaning in slowly, lips pressing against mine carefully, experimentally. It was so light that if I were to pull away, it felt like it never happened, but instead, I pressed myself firmly against him, Seonghwa’s hand coming to hold the side of my face. Our lips moved slowly against each other, testing, searching, savoring the other’s lips. My hands rested against his chest as his free hand went to hold my waist, slowly slipping to the place where San held onto earlier, my lower back. This time, goosebumps erupted on my skin and I slightly shuddered against Seonghwa as his long fingers dug into my skin, his lips picking up pace. I matched his feverish kisses, desperately wanting to tangle my fingers into the hair against his nape, but not wanting to mess up his hairstyle, so instead, I gripped the collar of his velvet coat, my other hand going around his shoulder. Seonghwa pulled me into himself totally, chests pressing together painfully as he sucked on my lower lip, carefully pressing his tongue against my mouth. I understood what he wanted and parted my lips for him, granting him access as he tilted my head up even more, hands clutching onto me firmly, his tongue carefully exploring my warm mouth. He tasted like the whiskey he had been drinking, and cherry. He loved cherry candies; he had probably eaten one not long before. My nose pushed against his cheek as our tongues tangled together, lapping at each other, a fire ignited inside me as my hand slipped up to his nape. Before I could second guess myself, I allowed my fingers to tangle into the short strands and I tugged on them, Seonghwa’s hand abruptly slipping down to my ass as he gave it a firm squeeze, making me gasp into his mouth. He took that momentum to suck on my tongue and suddenly my knees felt weak from the lack of air, but not just. I could devour him right here, but that wasn’t very lady like, nor too smart. Anyone could enter the restroom anytime. And despite the urgency in Seonghwa’s kiss, he sucked on my lower lip as he pulled back, pressing his forehead against mine. He was panting and I had to wipe the corner of my mouth as saliva threatened to drip down.

“Let’s do six months.” I rasped out, in the process of catching my breath. As I opened my eyes, I watched as Seonghwa’s teeth was attached to his plump lower lip, a deep hum leaving his throat as he agreed with my final answer.

“Good, I’ve still got a lot to offer to you.” He said as he opened his eyes and a smile instantly appeared on his lips. And then, his finger was rubbing underneath my lower lip and the corner of my mouth, chuckling as my own eyes fell onto Seonghwa’s unnaturally red lips. It made me blush as I allowed him to fix me up, hand giving my ass another squeeze, making me gasp as I jumped. The amused smile disappeared from his lips as a pleased smirk took its place.

“Let’s dance?” He asked and I nodded wordlessly, mesmerized by his voice and eyes as Seonghwa took a step back, hands falling from my body as I detached myself from him too, gulping nervously. He extended a hand and I placed my palm in his, fingers intertwining as he lead us towards the door.

I wouldn’t mind having Seonghwa as my sugar daddy for another six months, not if he would kiss me again and again like he kissed me tonight.

Masterlist (divider)

[ddollfface]

Ahhh! I just read ‘a little unhinged’ and I’m in love. It’s perfect. Is there a possibility that you could do the last one? Again thank you for doing my suggestion!

-🐏

𝐆𝐫𝐞𝐞𝐝𝐲 𝐇𝐚𝐧𝐝𝐬 𝐓𝐚𝐤𝐞, 𝐓𝐚𝐤𝐞 𝐅𝐫𝐨𝐦 𝐓𝐡𝐨𝐬𝐞 𝐓𝐡𝐞𝐲 𝐋𝐨𝐯𝐞

𝗟𝗼𝘃𝗲𝗦𝗶𝗰𝗸!𝗔𝘁𝗵𝗹𝗲𝘁𝗲 𝘅 𝗥𝗲𝗮𝗱𝗲𝗿

Trigger Warnings; implied!f!reader, unwanted touching, grody-gross behavior, sexual touching (unwanted), LoveSick!Athlete being a total ass, no sex scenes, kinda dark ig, no proof read btw (but the's just expected lol)

He was perfect. 

The teachers knew. Your friends knew. His teammates knew, and they all made sure that you knew it. No matter where you went, someone was always congratulating you on the relationship, blabbering on and on about how difficult it must’ve been to bag such a guy like him. Walking in the hall, you got far more comments on your dress, telling you that you must be taking his advice or how today must be his lucky day. Whenever you finished a class, your teachers made sure to add a little ‘Tell him, I said hi!’ to the greeting or farewell. And your friends, God, they wouldn’t let it up! 

All the conversations steered back to him, no matter what you guys were talking about! For some reason, all they wanted to know was him, him, him. You could be talking about… shopping, for example, and the conversation would somehow turn to him, even though he loathes shopping if it isn’t with you! One moment, you’d be rambling off about this new mall that you recently heard about some random girl, how it’s got all the new stores, but noooo, your friends just wanted to talk about how he modeled for a certain store there. Now, you were stuck listening to them gush about your boyfriend, who doesn’t even model, by the way! He told you, word-for-word, that he “hated touching the girl models ‘cause they don’t feel like you, mamas,” smooth like always…

His teammates, they’re… something, yeah that’s for sure. They don’t quite know when to shut up, or when to talk, frankly, they’re just creepy. There’s something about them that just throws you off. Throughout your relationship, you’ve always felt uncomfortable, and you’ve told him so, and he’s listened! He’s always made sure that they were a comfortable distance from you, never letting their lust-filled gazes strain for too long, making sure to set them straight. Usually, a stern glare would suffice, but he wasn’t afraid to give a beat down, never in front of you, of course. You were better than that, and like hell he’d ever let his baby see such a thing!

You knew what he did though, but it just made you trust him more, knowing that he had your back even though it was his teammates, the people he was closest to (rather than you). The fact that he was willing to beat someone to a bloody pulp for you clouded your vision, ignoring the fact that it was a bright, beading red flag that was practically blaring in your face! I mean… of course, it’s not the most practical thing to do, but at least his teammates weren’t perving on you anymore, right? 

Yeah, you should be grateful. 

After all, he is perfect. 

.

.

.

“No thank you.” 

You’d decline politely, a stiff smile perched on your lips. Your eyes don’t crinkle, but your brows do furrow, pupils dilating slightly as they flicker across the locker room, realizing the mistake you’ve just made. The way your heart jabs against your chest, thumping against your ribs in a heavy rhythm that screamed run, hide, anything that’d get you out of this situation, made your head feel dizzy and thoughts swirl with anything but cognizance. 

“Awwe, c’mon, sweets! You and the cap’ ain’t nothin’, yeah? He told us ‘bout your little freak out,” Cheekily grinning, he places air quotes around his words, and takes another step forward. A large palm rested on your shoulder, causing you to cringe, jerking your body away, bones creaking in a robotic motion as you just collided with another body. Your eyes snapped toward the other, your eyes meeting his hazel ones, watching as they clouded with lust and want. A want that’s been suppressed, denied-

“Oh! Hey Captain-” One flushed, immediately backing away at the sight of the brooding athlete, putting his hands up in defense with a sheepish smile. Letting out a breath, that you didn’t know you’d been holding in, you turned your body to face the entrance of the locker room, only to meet his back. He wasn’t even facing you. 

His broad back met your eyes, flickering across the toned muscle that stretched underneath his golden skin, the way the sweat glimmered and reflected against the light as he tugged his shirt over his body, huffing under his breath. He hadn’t even acknowledged anyone in the room, continuing as if no one was there. Though his dark eyes briefly met his vice-captain. The normal warning glance gone, replaced with one of aloofness, something that showed no emotional care, one that broke your heart. You caught it, and you caught the way the room seemed to shift from that of a stale, almost nervous atmosphere, to a eager and relief one. 

And just like that, you took a step back, hands on your bag as you were quick to make steps backward, desperate to leave, leave, leave. You need to leave, your conscience screamed at you, noticing how eyes seemed to shift onto your sweating figure. One would think that you’d been practicing with them with the thin layer that stuck to your skin, making your senses flash awake. 

“I’m going-” You choked out, surprised that your own vocals worked, almost gasping when a sweaty, bulging arm was slung over your shoulder, feeling the sweat stick to your neck as it pulled you closer. Lips parting as you pushed against the arms, nails digging into the skin, feeling the muscles and tendons flex. 

“Nahhh, I don’ think so, sweetheart. The cap’s given the okay, which means you’re all mine-” The arm slithered from your shoulder to your front, pulling your back to his chest, forcing his hand on your front. His large hand holding you against himself, fingers pressing against your clavicle and pinching the thin skin, chuckling under his breath. He hunched over you, his free hand trailing up your shirt, sweaty hands prodding and poking at your smooth skin. 

You almost gagged when his lips pressed against your ear, eyes flickering forward when footsteps approached, causing you to open your mouth, ready to scream. A painful gasp left your lips when his teeth sunk into your neck, lips suckling on your nape as his hand grabbed at your soft flesh, feeling up your curves. 

Thrashing in his grasp, you felt tears prod at your waterline, vision blurring as you called out to him, “Please-wait! Stop! Let go of me, you creep! Fuck off-!” You screamed, worried that no one was going to come. It settled, no one could hear you.

Your chest heaved as your jaw clenched, feeling your cheeks wet as tears dribbled down your puffy cheeks. Your hands swatted at the meaty arm around your waist, pinching and grasping at any skin you could get your hands on, scratching up his arm as others watched, dark chuckles leaving their lips at the sight. Looking up, your eyes met his, silently pleading with him as your lip wobbled. His eyes were empty as if he was dissociating, pushing back any thought that spread through his mind, replacing it with one thought: you asked for this. 

“Help me! I-” You called out his name, jabbing your elbow in the guy's gut, pushing with all your strength, ignoring the gleaming eyes that peered down at you. And as they closed in, a chest pressing you back into another chest, hands groping and touching you, leaving nothing unscathed. You screamed, pleading with apologies, anything that’d just get him to listen, to help you out of this, just as he did yesterday, a week ago, hell even a month ago! 

Though it was meek, a silent whisper of sorts, you heard it, and you heard it loud and clear. It was as if he’d yelled across the room, screaming his lungs out until his throat filled with bile and blood, his eyes gleaming into yours. But it wasn’t, it was nothing but a meer whisper, only meant for your ears only.

“You don’t need me, no?”

[verysanebsdfan]

HII

I LOVE UR WRITING and was wondering if u could do headcanons of the main 4 in hxh (if thats too much then just Gon and Killua separately) having an s/o who's just really sweet, kind, polite n calm

but can turn 180 rq and become super defensive of their loved ones.. insulting n basically having no mercy on whoever messed w them

TYY

I t didnt save thr first draft :(( it was so long and quite good too :((

Anywaysssssss

THANK YOU FOR REQUESTING!! IT MAKES ME SO HAPPY TO SEE THAT PEOPLE ENJOY MY WORK!!

I dont think i did well with the second part of the req in most cases and i am really sorry for that

tw: none i think? mentions of "recreating" the kurta clan :3

𝓚𝓾𝓻𝓪𝓹𝓲𝓴��� 𝓚𝓾𝓻𝓽𝓪, 𝓛𝓮𝓸𝓻𝓲𝓸 𝓟𝓪l𝓪𝓭𝓲𝓷𝓲𝓰𝓱𝓽, 𝓖𝓸𝓷 𝓕𝓻𝓮𝓮𝓬𝓼𝓼, 𝓚𝓲𝓵𝓵𝓾𝓪 𝓩𝓸𝓵𝓭𝔂𝓬𝓴 (𝓼𝓮𝓹𝓪𝓻𝓪𝓽𝓮) 𝔁 𝓰𝓷! 𝓻𝓮𝓪𝓭𝓮𝓻

⋆ ˚☁️ ⁀➴

⋆ You would be just a new hunter trying to make some good money while also putting your skills to use, so you became a bodyguard. That is how you two met

⋆ My bb is obsessed with revenge but thats okay, he later became obsessed with you too

⋆ Somehow you would get closer cuz u got that mc energy (ik that Gon is the mc but you slay sooo)

⋆ This would be the Fell first (you) and fell harder (kurapika) cuz oml

⋆ He would probably notice that you caught feelings for him, but dw he will soon notice his feelings soon.

⋆ After more time of knowing you, he would notice more of the small things you do, both for him and other people.

⋆ The sweet smile you give people that pass by, or just you asking him if he slept well made his heart speed up.

⋆ His heart also sped up when you offered to help him get his revenge and get the eyes of his clan memebers back

⋆ After he completed his revenge he would confess to you <3

⋆ He would be so sweet!!

"You aren't feeling well love? Do you want me to cook you something delicious? Coming right up!!"

⋆ He would want children, so if you cant have children or cannot, you would maybe hire a surrogate or adopt, but i am not sure how would adoption work if he would wanna pass the scarlet eyes too, cuz yk, genes...

⋆ Oki so, you two would meet in med schol and lemme tell you, he would be SMITTEN

⋆ You would start hanging out as study partners, and later have actual cute study dates in cafés.

⋆ Honestly, i feel like he would confess quite soon, but it would be really romantic and all, like good food, candles and all that.

⋆ Honestly he is so underrated?! Like whaaaaaaaaa, like yeah he was sorta weird, especially in the trick tower but still!

⋆ He is so husband material tho, not only is he nice, loves you, but he is also able to provide, hunter priviledges ig...

⋆ He would also want children, but only after marriage, and if you are okay with it, but more likely to adopt, since he knows there are a lot of children who are growing up in bad enviroment

⋆ Omg such a baby <3

⋆ You are his friend from the Hunter exam, and you also passed on your first try, so you are quite strong, and you travel with him and Killua

⋆ You both would be really oblivious, acting all sweet and lovey dovey together, so much everyone always assumed you two were dating, even Killua, so he decided to confront you two about it.

⋆ You ofc both denied it, and after seeing Gons embarrassed face, you wanted to tear Kill to shreds, how dare he embarrass Gon! Little did you know that the smoke coming out of Gons head wasnt from embarrassement, but from thinking.

⋆ Did he really like you?

⋆ 𝕪𝕖𝕤

⋆ After he thought it through, he was quite sure that he did like you. He just randomly ran up to you and yelled that he loves you

"(name) I AM SO SORRY I HAVENT REALIZED IT SOONER BUT I LOVE YOU SO MUCH PLEASE GO OUT WITH ME!!"

⋆ sweetie

⋆ You would be another kid from Whale Island, and you wanted to take the Hunter exam with Gon, but your parent/guardian, didn't let you yet because you weren't strong enough at the time. How can they tell? They used to be a hunter.

⋆ Then after Gon and the main group saved Killua from his crazy ahh family, he wrote you a letter that they were going to the Heavens Arena, and your parent/guardian let you go because it is a training opportunity, and also an opportunity to get you to socialize- urmmm

⋆ So that was when you met Killua

⋆ You two mostly bonded when Gon got hurt in the fight, cause you both love and cherish the little bean, and also while learning nen<3

⋆ After some time, he started to wonder why does he feel weird when talking and spending time with you (hmm its killua x reader, i wonder why...)

⋆ When you got to the 200 floor and fought some guy, he looked as if he was about to win, at that moment Kill wanted to kill him, but you did it instead<3 lovely<3

⋆ After that, you went to the Whale island again, and he met your parent/guardian (moving fast aren't we Kill?~) and they would be your second biggest shipper, cause Gon took the first place.

⋆ Somehow, you convinced your parent/guardian, to let you go with them to york new, and maybe also hang out with them till the next hunter exam, but the second part of you could do was only allowed after they got to know you would go with Killua >_<

⋆ First date in York New, only thanks to Gon (ily bb)

⋆ I can see that you two would either get together before the Hunter exam, or during the chairman election arc, idk

⋆ Either way! Alluka would ADORE YOU!!

⋆ His fav thing about you would be when you scold him for eating too many choco robots...because you care<3

𓇼 ⋆.˚ 𓆉 𓆝 𓆡⋆.˚ 𓇼

Thank you for reading lovelies, remember to drink water, eat 3x a day, and taek care of yourself, baiii<3

[girlfromflor]

atsumu and his infatuation with stoic!reader - part 1

wc: 1371 | tw: some swear words ig | a/n: i did not proofread this lol, part 2

atsumu was never one to think too hard about other people’s actions. he always thought that when someone said something, they meant it. when they didn’t say anything, well that’s just because there is nothing to be said. he was just as simple, so why worry, right? but that was before he met you. 

he still remembers the very first time he saw you come over practice. you seemed so lost, trying to speak to the coach and see if there was any chance you could be part of the club, only to have your voice completely drown in the loud sound of the balls hitting the court’s floor. atsumu was stunned, he had never seen you around and yet it felt like you were known, like that one person he can always count on. you were so gorgeous, your hair matching your pretty face and soft eyes. he almost immediately asked you to marry him. his eyes worked unceasingly to memorize every part of you. how you were a bit shorter than him, how the school uniform wrapped every part of your body oh so nicely, and he wondered how you would look rid of all those layers. so he gathered all his courage and after a deep breath he approached you, “uh, hi. i’m miya atsumu, do you need help?” 

you, with your ever so practical and stoic persona, had the immediate reaction to just say no. usually not one to chit chat or kill time doing something so trivial as talking about ordinary and banal things. but as you turned to answer the atsumu guy, you freezed. probably it was the first time you ever stood in a situation like this, but god, he was so absolutely gorgeous to you that your whole demeanor changed. you were a loss of words. flustered with your own traitor thoughts and, as you realized you were taking too much time to answer a simple question, your mind went blank for a minute. “sorry, what…?”

he laughed. and god, what a cute laugh he had. he wondered if you were always this distracted. “do you need help? with whatever it is that you’re doing…” and gave you a smile, trying his hardest to not add a random ‘love’ into the phrase. to his surprise you didn’t smile back, face expressionless as you said, “oh, right. yeah, i think i could use some help. i need to subscribe to some club activities and i thought maybe i could be part of the volleyball team… do you think that can happen?” after having a few seconds to recompose yourself you managed to mutter, thanking whatever wave of luck that allowed you not to stumble over your words.

and after that, atsumu knew he was in for a long journey. being head over heels for someone that he later learned to be a first-year, that he now would most likely see everyday and that – much to his dismay – did not utter a single word towards him, unless absolutely necessary. he did not understand any of it. why he felt so breathless around you and why you seemed so oblivious to his advances. he didn’t know how to deal with all of it, he just wanted to know you completely, to have access to your deepest desires and wills and have you share all parts of you and your life. 

but you never really seemed to realize how intensely he cared for you. and nowadays all he can do is to be deeply attentive to everything you do. whenever you say something – or when you don’t, for that matter – he’ll find a way to read your words and actions over and over again. he’s obsessed with it. he can’t imagine why in the world you are so little affected by the things he says and does. how could you not have any sort of reaction when he was around you doing all types of things to get your attention. it wasn’t until a random practice day that he realized just how much you actually noticed him.

he couldn’t help but reminisce that afternoon, it was very meaningful to him. after a few months of coexisting, he managed to remain well behaved with you. only exchanging a few words of politeness whenever you two met. he had just thrown another bad set to one of his teammates, growing frustrated and bothered by the minute. you don’t notice at first what’s wrong. nevertheless, you are the very first to really understand the problem. while all of the boys swim in confusion as to why atsumu seemed so lost in his thoughts during practice, you decide it’s time for him to focus already.

“atsumu,” you call, waiting for him to look at you. he lifts his eyes slowly, so caught up in his frustration to notice the soft glint of affection in yours. “yes…?” he answers at last, still not paying you full attention. 

“i know you’re stressed over exams…” and that’s enough to have him looking at you with attentive eyes, wondering how did you know that since you’re not usually aware of those things, always having the best grades of your class. “but it will be okay. you studied harder than ever, if that’s not enough then i don’t know what would be…”

he lets out an amused chuckle, thinking that you’re just trying to be practical and make him not waste a whole practice just because he’s worried. but then it clicks, he never mentioned exams. during the whole time he spent studying, he did not mention it once. he was pressured enough, he didn’t want anyone else to add up to his stress. he questions then, why would you assume that, of all things? 

little does he know that you noticed how he was getting a few minutes later than the others at practice, because he was finishing a summary of his exams topics. how he would look at the paper in his pocket from time to time to check if he had gotten the right answers to the questions he was mentally doing over and over. how he stopped staying after hours so he could get home sooner, probably to go over his notes about that one topic he never really manages to understand just right.

so he tilts his head a bit to the side, still looking at you with some amusement in his eyes and says, “is not only that, you know… i have to study so much to get good grades and can’t even set right while doing so, it makes me wonder if i won’t ever be able to do two things at the same time…”

and for that you just giggle. a light, sweet sound that just makes atsumu drown even more in his infatuation for you. you raise your eyebrows, hardly believing these words had really left his mouth. “atsumu…” is soft, trying to not sound aggressive, but all the boys that are paying attention can see that you’re actually dead serious when you say, matter-of-factly, “you’re recognized as the number one high school setter… what are you so concerned about?”

and that just hits him like a fucking punch, because you are not saying it to encourage him nor is it to make him feel better. you stating a fact, he is indeed one of the best players in high school, he should be able to study hard and still play well, it comes naturally to him anyway. his eyes fill up with something you can’t quite point out, his smirk spoke volumes though “well, i guess it just gets hard to remember that sometimes.”

after that short dialogue you two shared, he managed not to miss one move throughout the rest of their practice. his humor well recovered as he wonders just how much you watch him around and that, maybe, you think of him just as much as he thinks of you. but nothing could have prepared him for the next day, when he was changing at the locker room and found a note that said “so you don’t have a hard time remembering it” with a simple black bracelet underneath that had “best setter” engraved on it.