#ten dollar founding father

[binch-i-might-be]

just decided that reincarnation au Alex would use his newfound fame and influence to unleash all his queer rage and absolutely obliterate jk rowling on twitter dot com siri send tweet

[hamiltrash-thoughts]

Okay, hear me out

Modern!Hamilton AU, except everyone has to pay for everything with 10 dollar notes. Even if what they're paying for is less than 10 dollars.

[john-smiths-jawline]

noooooooo stoppppppppp it's suck in my head again 😭😭😭

fun words :

bastard

scoundrel

charlatan

harlot

rapscallion

hooligan

ruffian

swindler

[donatellawritings]

୨୧ how sugardaddy!rafe found his favorite little muñeca

rafe wasn’t entirely sure as to what it was that piqued his father’s need to go on vacation every few months out of the year, but he wasn’t against it. since returning back to tannyhill, following his brief collegiate stint, rafe needed an outlet — a place where he could go and blow a few tens of thousands of dollars and not be reprimanded, a place where he could lose himself in copious amounts of coke without judgement, a place where he could be the man — the one who was needed, the one who had all the answers.

so, when ward came up with the brilliant idea to send his eldest of kin to the island of culebra, puerto rico — just to keep his volatile son out of trouble … rafe was quick and eager to oblige.

the villa was immaculate, completely renovated from the ground up, with the pristine view of the clear turquoise waters that crashed against the powder white sand. but what caught rafe’s bright baby blues was the little puerto rican girl who stood bent over, tiny white shorts sucked in the soft fat of your plush ass as you carefully picked at the bright fuschia hibiscus flower that grew alone in the patch of crisp green grass. shiny blown out hair cascaded down the small of your back as rafe tongued the inside of his cheek, watching closely as you straightened your posture, the shorts now almost entirely swallowed by your plump ass.

rafe couldn’t help himself, but continue to ogle at you, his bloodshot eyes carelessly drinking in the way your bronze skin shimmered under the sun, as well as the cute hot pink heart-shaped glitter tattoo that sparkled on your lower back. and fuck, it took everything in him to not shove his hand down his pants with the way the fat of your ass sat all heavy and perfectly curved against the flimsy fabric of your shorts.

smiling to himself, rafe obnoxiously clears his throat, causing you to flinch and whip your pretty little head at him, all wide eyed and open-mouthed, “uh, don’t think y’should be pickin’ at other people’s flowers, huh?” he questions, his voice dripping in a condescending cadence as you immediately drop the pretty flower from your small fist, allowing it to fall at your sparkly pink toes.

remaining silent, you awkwardly shift on your feet, blinking your wispy lashes together as you close your mouth, “i’m sorry, i just — hmph,” you sigh, your nose scrunched in frustration as you struggled to find the right words … in english, at least.

cocking his head to the side, rafe chuckles at your fussy state, his stringy bangs masking the way he incessantly stared at the way the swells of your breasts bounced against your one size too small lily pink triangle bikini top. judging by your thick accent, rafe could tell that communicating with you would be a bit of a struggle — lucky for you, he considered himself to be a proactive man of sorts.

taking a step closer to you, rafe feigns a sigh of disappointment, even going so far as to pinch the bridge of his nose “i don’t know, i may just have to tell someone that y’just comin’ here and makin’ a mess of things — i can’t have that, sweetheart,” he shrugs.

your little heart thumped rapidly against your chest as you bit down into your pouty bottom lip, swallowing thickly as you brought your terrified gaze to the ground.

deciding to twist the knife, rafe nudged the point of your chin with the side of his signet-tinged index finger with squinted eyes, “y’parents never taught y’how to talk to people, huh?” he questions, his pupil-blown eyes searching yours as you parted your swollen lips.

furiously shaking your head, you take a short breath, “i-i dunno how — the words are h-hard,” you speak, your voice small and mousey as your eyes meet rafe’s intimidatingly blue ones.

“well, y’gotta learn, yeah?” rafe shrugs.

with bright and naive eyes, you let out an excited gasp, “you can teach me?” you question, swollen lips pursed together as rafe licks over his pink chapped lips, taking another step closer to you as his rough hand grasps the side of your face.

you were a naive little one, a bit too welcoming … but he could fix teach you.

bringing his thumb to curve around your jaw, rafe shushes you, “y’shouldn’t be walkin’ around stranger’s houses dressed like that — your daddy ever teach you that?” rafe lightly pushes your head back, a shit-eating grin now playing on his handsome face as you obediently answer him with a forceful shake of your head.

your bambi eyes now welled with embarrassed tears, you gently attempted to pull your face from the young man’s tight hold, “yo no tengo …” you whimper softly.

shifting your face, rafe raises a corrective brow at you, “english, kid,” he scolds.

poking out your fat bottom lip in a wobbly pout, you lightly stomp your foot in frustration, “i don’t have a daddy,” you whine, a warm teardrop rolling down the apple of your cheek as rafe tutted at you with a knowing nod to himself.

“that’s the problem, huh? y’don’t have a daddy to keep y’little ass in line,” rafe mumbles, bringing his thumb to mush against your swollen and somewhat sticky lips as you stare at him with confused, yet needy little eyes.

letting go of your jaw, rafe runs a hand through his greasy hair, before swiping at the corner of his mouth with his finger, “listen kid, m’gonna take care of you, yeah? buy you whatever girly shit y’like — maybe even take y’home with me one of these days —”

“like a daddy?”

letting out a huff, rafe takes in the way you reach down to grab ahold of the wilted flower, boobs nearly spilling out of your bikini tops as you fist it tightly in your grip, “yes, but i’ll be your daddy —”

“papi!” you beam, a wide smile stretching your swollen lips as you bat your cutesy stacked lashes together, “that’s your name?” you ask politely, reaching your small hands to tug on the waistband of your shorts, unknowingly pulling them further up your ass.

“rafe is my name, pretty girl — but y’can call me papi, okay?” he coos, swiftly snagging the flimsy flower from your hand, causing you to pout as you roll your eyes, leaving rafe to snap his fingers at you, “hey — don’t start that shit, now come here and let me fix y’up,” he commands, internally satisfied with the way you quickly removed the frown from your face and walked over to him, the tips of your toes meeting the tips of his sandals.

curling a ginger underneath the waistband of your shorts, rafe softly pulls on the stretchy fabric, taking a mental note of the frilly thing you wore underneath. placing the flower in your shorts, rafe carefully secures the band of your shorts to hold the flower upright, you dainty belly button ring also catching his watchful eyes.

craning your neck to get a look of your cute new accessory, you scoff with excitement, “aye, es muy bonita, papi!” you squeal, rushing to swing your arms around rafe’s tense and warm neck.

lightly patting the top of the curve of your asscheek, rafe gently pulls you away from him, “listen, kid — y’can’t just trust every person you meet, yeah? not everyone is going to be nice like your papi, hm?” he clasps his hands around your bare shoulders, biting back a smirk as you nod feverishly.

“tell me that you understand,” rafe pushes, silently encouraging you with a small squeeze of your shoulders.

“i und-understand,” you breathe out.

bringing a hand to barely pat your cheek, rafe reaches his free hand down to tug the hem of your shorts down to cover your ass, “good girl — now why don’t y’come with daddy and i’ll buy y’some pretty clothes,” rafe hums, massaging your cheek with his thumb.

[voguesriot]

SUNBURN ✹ luke castellan

( summary ) a social media au about chb’s fav couple (& their fav shitstirrer, aka percy jackson)

( pairing ) luke castellan x fem aphrodite cabin-coded!reader & small bits of baby percabeth

( notes ) first post ahhh!!! this was so fun to make

♫ Ant Pile by Dominic Fike

♡ liked by wisegirll , silenabeauregard , and others

yourusername my bf is hot but dominic fike if u wanna hmu i can ditch him it’s no biggie 😁🫶

lukecastellan EXCUSE ME

lukecastellan you already completed your rite of passage why do you need to break my heart 😔💔

yourusername want me to kiss that bruised ego better?

lukecastellan sigh… i guess…

seaweedbrain BOOO TOMATO TOMATO BOOOOO

seaweedbrain get his ass off my screen 🤣🤣

lukecastellan sparring arena. you and me. now.

groverunderwood bros rlly beefing with a 13 yr old

seaweedbrain the typa guy to tell me to kms bcs i voted him out in roblox total drama island

clarisselarue this would’ve been so much better without the second slide

yourusername no more like content from here on out 🙅���♀️

lukecastellan wtf???

yourusername sorry babe i don’t argue with girls who have big brown eyes, whatever she wants she’s gonna get

silenabeauregard YOU LOOK SO CUTESY

yourusername I LOVE U 🥹❤️‍🩹

chrisrodriguez lukecastellan bro ik nobody else here fw you, but i’ll always fw you 💗

lukecastellan you’re a real one bro 👊

aphroditecamper1 u guys are so cute ☹️

♫ Babydoll by Dominic Fike

♡ liked by cbeckendorf , connorstroll , and others

lukecastellan yeah your girl might have a general grasp on battle strategies or whatever but can she bring an oddly unsettling vibe and a cute smile to the function? DIDNT THINK SO ‼️‼️‼️

seaweedbrain put a shirt on man nobody wants to be seeing all that trust 🙏

lukecastellan i wonder if your dad would’ve stayed if you weren’t such a hater

seaweedbrain i wonder if your dad wouldn’t have become the ten dollar founding father if you mom swallowed

yourusername woah…

seaweedbrain when he goes low i go LOWER

wisegirll too far percy

seaweedbrain sorry ma’am

clarisselarue this would’ve been so much better without the second slide

lukecastellan it’s my account???

clarisselarue i stand by what i said.

chrisrodriguez yk i can bring an oddly unsettling vibe too and my ma said my smiles pretty cute so…

yourusername yeah you bring such a crazy vibe!!

chrisrodriguez now that’s just rude

yourusername tried to be a homewrecker but you got wrecked instead 🤷‍♀️

wisegirll yourusername your lashes look so good!!!!

yourusername MY BABY THANK U I LOVE U UR MY FAV PERSON EVER

clarisselarue WTF???

silenabeauregard WTF?????

seaweedbrain WTF????

lukecastellan i’m used to this by now 😔💔🥀

♫ Woman Screaming #2 by Anton Hughes

♡ liked by wisegirll , racheledare , and others

seaweedbrain does he just not own a shirt… COVER YOUR BOOBS SIR PLEASE THERE ARE CHILDREN

lukecastellan why are you taking pics of us having a nap… fan behaviour icl

seaweedbrain i needed proof to file a police report against you for theft

lukecastellan how did you know??

seaweedbrain i was talking ab stealing my innocence but what were you thinking…

yourusername wait perce can you send me the second pic it’s so cute

yourusername send the first one too actually please

seaweedbrain pick yourself up you’re stronger than this what happened to women who stand on business 😔

yourusername i was standing!!! but then my feet hurt and he picked me up :)

seaweedbrain sigh

chrisrodriguez bros looking fine oh my gods

lukecastellan don’t matter if i’ve got a world of haters, i got you by my side

yourusername i’m just gonna leave…

clarisselarue yourusername just saying i’d never pull that shit

lukecastellan ok joke over ha ha funny

wisegirll percy this is a bit stalkerish 😭

seaweedbrain i’m sorry you’re right

this post has been deleted.

[probablyintensemuses]

Dating Armando Aretas Would Include:

Grumpy x Sunshine Edition

🎧- Enchanted: Taylor Swift

pairing: Armando Aretas x black fem! reader

themes: grumpy x sunshine w/drabble

warnings: mentions of trauma & abuse, strong language, and a bit of gore.

authors note: I saw Bad Boys 4 again last night and it’s really refueled my Armando obsession, so more headcannons, drabbles, and fics on the way.

✨First Encounters✨

You and Armando meet in the worst of circumstances.

He, his father, and Marcus were on the run as wanted men, and you were the first person Mike thought to turn to after the attack at Tabatha’s.

Which he wasn’t wrong, you’d give your left kidney to Mike he’s saved you so many times.

You had let them into your small apartment, offering them clothes, food, and shelter until they could get in touch with the rest of the Ammo team and sort this shit out.

Armando had taken an interest to you then. Your house was warm and cozy, lived in. A small, plush couch, next to a coffee table littered with medical books. A kitchen stacked with teas and espressos , a dresser with vintage vinyls and a record player beside it. This was the kind of house he’d like to live in if he lead a different life.

You remember walking over to him, a picture of your parents and you when you were young in his hands.

“Those are my parents,’ you say. “I was ten then.”

Armando’s gruff exterior takes over though, and he doesn’t give you as much as a word back, let alone a thank you for feeding and housing literal fugitives.

You figured it was just him though and let it roll off you back like water.

You all got some sleep and the next day Mike asks you to drive them out to Dorn’s house on the dock. You agree and begin to load up the truck with guns, water, food, and extra clothes for the drive.

This is when Armando starts to question who you are and the legitimacy of your actions. Last person Mike trusted fucked them over, and he wasn’t having that shit again.

So he pulls his father aside and confronts him on the situation: you.

“How can we trust her?” Armando says, not far out of earshot of you.

“She’s good for it, trust me.”

“Didn’t you say that the last time and we got sold out. Don’t forget there is fucking five million dollar bounty on our heads. We can’t trust no one!” He whisper-shouted.

Mikes shoulders dropped. “I saved her life when she was younger, and I used to work with her parents. Trust me, she’s not going to pull a fast one. Because if she was, she would have done it already.”

Armando looked over at you, you’re dressed in a tank top, and that’s when he notices the cuts and burns littering your left arm. He sucks in a deep breath eyeing Mike who looks at you with sympathy too. There’s a story there, he’ll piece it together later, but for now he guesses you’re his only hope of getting out alive.

✨Post-fallout ✨

After you didn’t screw them over, and got them safety to Dorn’s, Armando found himself limping towards your apartment, blood trailing behind his feet.

Mike had sent him, and for some reason, at that moment, your place felt like exactly what he needed.

With the last of his energy, he banged on your door. Shortly, you answered and immediately went into panic mode.

The moment you let him inside, Armando crashes to the floor, passing out.

You screech and get every first aide equipment you have on hand and begin to bandage him up and stop the bleeding.

It took two bloody, sweaty hours, but you eventually got him all closed up.

Armando woke the next morning in a bed he didn’t recognize. This sent him into a frenzy. He went to shoot up out of the bed, but the soreness of his injuries knocked him back down.

“Fuck,” he moaned, grabbing at his torso.

From the living room, you turn down your headphones at the sound of movement. Armando must be awake.

Two days of rest, not bad.

You move towards the microwave and reheat the breakfast you had made him, pour some orange juice, and bring a whole heck of a lot of water and pain-pills.

Tray in hand, you kick open the door and slip inside your bedroom.

“Good morning.” You smile, setting the tray on the bed by his side. “How do you feel?”

“What the fuck did you put in this.” Armando asks, eyeing the food.

“Eggs, bacon, and toast.” You snicker.

Armando lifts a piece of toast, taking a bite. “If I die from this, I’ll kill you.”

“Noted, Sarg.” You salute.

You watch Armando eat his food with a smile on your face.

Eventually he looks up at you scowling. “Why are you staring at me.”

You shrug. “I’m just happy you’re okay.” You say truthfully.

“Well,’ Armando takes a swig of water, downing the pills. “Go be happy somewhere else.”

Your shoulders drop and you let out a sigh, you knew Armando was tough, but geez, you practically saved his life. Would it kill him to be a little nice?

But still you smile when you say, “okay, well if you need me, I’ll be out in the living room studying. Feel free to roam around, I don’t mind.”

It was a couple hours before Armando had come out of your room, limping over to the kitchen and rummaging through your fridge.

“I’m making dinner right now,’ you say, pausing your television show. “It’s a roast with veggies.”

“I want a beer.” He grumbles.

“Well I don’t have beer, but I do have wine.” You say, pointing to you collection of reds and whites.

“ I don’t want wine.”

“Okay, so what do you want me to do?”

Armando comes over to you, cornering you into the tiny space between your sink and the counter. “Get me a beer.”

“Let’s start over,’ you stick out your hand for a shake. “I think we’re at a misunderstanding of our situation.”

Armando frowns at your response, grumbling Spanish curses under his breath and walking away, slamming your door like a toddler.

The roast was done, and eventually you got Armando to come and have dinner with you…kind of.

He sat on the couch and watched the news, for updates on the status for his search, and you sat at the table, contemplating what to do with him next.

✨Enemies, Friends, Roomates✨

Mike had told you harboring Armando would only be for a short while until he could figure something out with the D.A’s office….that was three months ago.

Eventually you got your bed back, Armando taking the couch, but not your sanity.

Living with Armando wasn’t easy. He was brash, stand-offish, stubborn, and mean.

You did everything to try and form some kind of bond with him, even buying him gym equipment offline, but it just never clicked for him.

Not until one night when you’re studying late for an exam and happen to fall asleep at the kitchen table, books all around you.

That’s when you fall into a nightmare. The man who ruined your life the star of the show, again.

It always starts the same. You and your parents living happily at the park. Your parents watch you as you swing higher and higher, giggles filling the air. Then a man appears at the edge of the park, beckoning your parents over. You scream and shout for them but they never turn back, they keep going to the man. And when he has your parents in his grip, he brandishes a knife, slicing them open.

You let out a blood curling scream, slamming awake and falling to the group. Sweat sticks your curls to your face as you cry and gasp for breath.

Armando’s up in a second, swarming you.

“Estás bien?�� He pats you down, checking you out. “What’s happened to you?”

You can’t do anything but cry. The man who’s ruined your life, he’ll never leave you…he made sure of that in many ways. His latching to you is so deep that you can’t even escape him when you sleep.

You finally are able to get some words out, tell Armando, “I had a nightmare. I’m sorry.”

“Don’t apologize,’ he helps you stand. “Maybe you should get some sleep in your bed.”

You’re shocked by his response, but you’re even more shocked by the way he helps you to your room.

“What are you doing?” You asks, confused.

“You just flew out your chair from a nightmare, what do you mean what am I doing? I’m helping you.”

“Yeah, I get that…but you never help me.”

Armando sighs, holding his hands at his hips. “You gonna tell me what it was about, or should I leave.”

You sigh. “When I was younger, my parents worked for the Miami Police Department. They were detectives and before I was born they ended up helping catch this serial killer. His name was Gunter Bennett but the media called him “The Gutter” because that’s how he killed. Years later, somehow he escaped prison. That’s when he came for my parents. He killed them in the middle of the night.’ You take an uneasy breath, finding birth relief and shock when Armando’s hand slips into yours. “And I was sure he was going to kill me too, but he didn’t…he did worse. He kidnapped me and kept me at some shithole for three years. Three.”

You rile up your sleeves and show all your burns and cuts. Armando remembers them from the first day he met you.

“It’s how I got these. That sadistic bastard,’ you cry. “He tortured me.”

Armando feels something in him snap hearing your story and seeing the ways it’s effected you, even now. He knows what it’s like to be harmed and loose the people closest to you.

So he shocks even himself with what does next, scooping you up like a wounded bird and nuzzling under the blankets with you.

You whimper and sniffle in his arms and he just hushes you, stroking your curls.

“It’s going to be alright, niña bonita, he’s gone now.”

Slowly, the exhaustion of work, school, and your tears overcome you and you both drift off to sleep in each other’s arms.

✨My Lover✨

Armando was jealous.

You two had just spent the day out shopping, laughing and talking. Hell, you two live together! And yet you’re grinding on another man at the bar?!

The glass in Armando’s hand shakes and chips as he squeezes it further.

“Relax, muscle milk. You’ll break the glass.” Marcus says.

Armando scowls at him.

“I’m just saying, if you love her, tell her.” Marcus shrugs, walking away.

Armando scoffs. Love? Yeah right.

Did he feel close to you, yes.

Want to spend every breathing moment with you, yes.

Touch himself in the shower thinking about you, yes .

Oh fuck…he did love you.

Fuck! He loved you and you’re grinding another man!

Armando pushed out of his chair, it clattering to the ground in his wake.

He stalked over to you, grabbing your wrist and putting room between you and the man you danced on.

“ ‘Mando, what are you doing?” You stumble, clearly drunk.

“Let’s go.” He grabs you, chest heaving.

“Hey, wait!” You swat at him as he drags you through the bar and out the exit. “Why would you do that?” You whine.

“Because you’re drunk.” He rolls his eyes, slinging his leather jacket over your naked shoulders.

“I’m not!’ You whine, stumbling, luckily Armando catches you with ease. “I am.”

“You are. Let’s go.” He says, slinging you and carrying you bridal shower.

“Ah,’ you say, wrapping your arms around Armando’s neck and snuggling into him. “My knight in shining armor always takes such good care of me.’ You lean over, smacking his butt with a giggle.

“Shut up.” Armando says, resisting the urge to crack a smile.

Home, Armando tucks you into bed. He’s just about to walk away when you snatch his wrist, pulling him on top of you.

“Let’s play a game,” you whisper.

Armando rolls his eyes. “What kind of game?”

“Truth for truth. I tell you a truth and you do the same. “I’ll start.” You giggle.

“Tonight went exactly how I planned.”

Armando pulls back. “What do you mean by that?”

You shake your head and pout. “Uh uh. You’re turn.”

Armando sighs. “I don’t actually find you that annoying…anymore.”

“Ah, I knew it!” You laugh.

“Knew what?”

“Game over.’ You slump and snore, pretending to sleep.

“Stop it, you knew what?” Armando lifts you.

You bop his nose. “I knew that you loved me.”

Armando’s eyes get big. “What?”

“Me and kelly paid that guy to dance with me. We knew you’d get mad and that was all the proof I needed.”

“You’re a dick.” He starts to walk away, but you grab him by his belt loop.

“Okay, I’m sorry.” You pull him back. “But you don’t have to be shy.” You hiccup.

Armando grumbles, nuzzling his face into your stomach. “And why’s that?”

You lift his head, angling it to face you. “Because I love you too.” You lean forward, placing a firm kiss onto his plump lips.

Armando reciprocates, opening his mouth turning the kiss fierce and hot. He climbs on top of you, mumbling against your lips. “And I thought you were supposed to be the nice one.”

You giggle. “Feels good to be bad for a change.”

[jhdyuiee]

alibi

★ pairing: childhood friend!haechan x fem!reader

★ tags/warnings: smut!, slight angst, fluff, unprotected sex, nipple/breast play, kissing/making-out, multiple positions (doggy&face-to-face), oral (f receiving), fingering, marking (hickies&biting), pet names (baby) & name calling (good girl), dirty talk, cursing, spanking, squirting, multiple orgasms, rich ceo haechan, haechan was your childhood friend who one day up and disappeared 

★ w.c: 3.7k

★ a.n: hello! as promised here is my story for the week! sorry for the delay, i spent majority of my week finishing up my term paper, but now that, that is over i'm free again!! woohoo, i can finally enjoy my summer ㅠㅠ . anyhow this my first haechan fic, yippie! also thank you all for the massive love and support on wildflower & million dollar baby <3 please stay safe out there during this summer time, i love you berry much, jiji out 🤍

5 years ago.

You're lying… No… This couldn’t be possible… He couldn’t have just disappeared without telling me…

How could he? We were supposed to graduate tomorrow. Go to the same University. We were supposed to be together.

“Why did you leave,” I muttered as tears streamed down my face.

As I headed to school this morning, I stopped by his home like I’ve always done. However I was met with an empty home. Everything cleared, as if no one ever lived there. I thought maybe I’d arrived at the wrong home or I was still dreaming.

So I called Haechan. Once, twice, ten times yet to no avail. He answered none of my calls or messages. I went with the second option, calling my mother. Yet little did I know that, that call would shatter all remaining hope in me.

“You didn’t know? The Lee’s left yesterday. His father was hired in, hmm where was it? Toronto! Toronto, Canada!” my mother said. My eyes widened, hands shaking. Haechan hadn’t informed me of anything.

So he just left. Like that? My legs grew weak, I found myself outside his door; sobbing. Nothing else mattered to me right now, I just wanted Haechan. His bright smile, his sparkling eyes, and warmth. It was like he took my other half, leaving me now half dead.

In all honesty, I loved Haechan. Ever since I learned what love was. Yet, now I never even got the chance to tell him. This would be the end of us. 18 years—since birth—gone.

Present day.

I thought that day 5 years ago would be the end. Me and Haechan would never find our way back to each other, yet why was he standing in front of me now?

“Y/N…” he says, loud enough for me to hear. I snapped out of my trance, remembering I was still on the job.

“R-Right this way sir,” I said, guiding him and the women that held his hand to their table. I set their menus on the table as they got situated. “I’ll be right back to take your orders,” I said, trying to make my exit.

I left without turning back, without glancing back at Haechan. My heart pounded so fast, my body trembling. This couldn’t be… No, he… What was he doing here? Out of every restaurant, why did he have to come to the one I worked at!? Just when I had begun forgetting about him, he reappeared and with a woman by his side no less.

I sighed, trying my best to compose myself. I mean after all he’d be gone once he finished eating and I’d never have to see him again. As I made my way back to their table, the woman he was with smiled so brightly, laughing at whatever Haechan was saying.

“Hello!” I said enthusiastically, putting on a smile. “I’m Y/N and i’ll be your waiter today. Can I get you started on some drinks?” I asked. I felt Haechan’s gaze the whole time I stood there.

“Hello, uhh I’ll get the Strawberry Vodka!” The woman spoke happily. When I finished noting her drink down, I turned to Haechan. Our eyes meeting one another. “And for you sir?”

He opened his mouth, then closed it before opening it up again to speak. “Some water is fine, since I still have to drive us afterwards.” I nodded my head, “Are you guys ready to order or would you like more time?”

“No, no it’s fine we can order now,” he said. And so I took their orders, walking back to the kitchen once I finished. I poured their drinks and walked back over to them. Only this time I didn’t linger there for long. Then after a good while, their food was finally ready. Plates in hand, I walked over to them again, giving them their food. “Anything else that you would need?” I asked. Before Haechan could answer, the women politely dismissed the question.

I continued working, I had no time to just idle around. I served every table I could possibly attend to, until I finally noticed Haechan and the women getting ready to leave. I made my way over there for what I hoped would be the last time. “All ready to go?” I asked.

“Yes, could we get the check?” Haechan asked. “Oh! Yes, here you go,” I said, setting the receipt I pulled from inside my apron's pocket on the table. “Thank you for dining with us!” I gave my last remark, displaying a bright smile. I might’ve been hallucinating but I saw Haechan's lips faintly twitched.

“Thank you!” the woman said, standing up from her seat to grab Haechan’s arm. He happily got up, “Thank you so much for your service, I’ll be sure to tip you generously.” “Oh no, Thank you for being such wonderful customers! Be sure to stop by next time!” I said, only wishing he never sets foot in here again.

He smiles, “Will do,” he says, his words sounding like a promise. Great. I watched as they paid and left. Catching Haechan as he gave me one last look, his eyes filled with longing.

・❥・・❥・・❥・

Finally, my night shift at the restaurant was over! I could finally go home, maybe stop by the convenience store to buy a beer or two. After tonight I could use some alcohol.

I bid my coworkers goodbye, making my way out of the restaurant. “Y/N!” A voice shouted my name. I turned to find the voice. Only now I wished that I simply had just feigned ignorance to the calling.

Haechan stood before me. His body leaned against his vehicle, arms crossed. I stood there, not a single move from me. It was as if time had stopped and we were the only two in this world. He moved first, making his way towards me until we were only an inch apart. His eyes, the same ones that shun so bright, were now eerily emotionless.

My lips quivered, “H… Haechan.” My vision blurred and only then did I realize the waterworks had started. I heard a faint chuckle erupt from him, “Still a crybaby huh?” he asked as the pad of his thumbs wiped my tears away. No, I didn’t want to feel his touch.

I backed away, the two of us just staring at one another. “Wh-Why are you here!” I said, coming out rather loudly. “To get you,” he answered. Confusion overrode my face, “For me?! Haechan, you left me 5 years ago!”

His eyes now saddened; hurt. “I didn’t mean to! I meant to tell you about my father’s job… it’s just-” I interrupted him before he could finish, “So? I had to find out through my mother for christ sake Haechan. Not to mention it was on the day before our graduation!” He sighed, coming closer to me. He cupped my face, “I know, I know I was a jerk but I didn’t tell you because I was going to come back! I was supposed to be back after a couple of months.” Now shock overrode my face. What was he talking about? Come back after a few months?

“Don’t bullshit me,” I spat out. “I’m not!” he slightly raised his voice, causing me to flinch. “Sorry,” he then said, embracing me into a hug. “I really was supposed to come back yet to my surprise when I returned you had already gone,” he whispered into my ear.

His hot breath, his low voice sent an intense shiver throughout my body that I got lost in him. I couldn’t formulate a sentence, a word. I pressed my hands against his chest, trying to push him away but he was too strong. “B-But what about that woman,” I asked.

We locked eyes, a smirk formulated on his face. “She was just some woman my mother set me up with. Why, jealous?” 

I shook my head. Me, jealous?! Please… “No! Why would I!” He shrugged his shoulders, “You tell me.” I gripped his arm, “Wh-What do you mean?”

His expression softened, “You think I wouldn’t know?” I looked at him, confused once more. He chuckled, “That you love me.”

My eyes widened, my mouth fell open. How? How did he…

I detached myself from him, “What… How did you-“ “The way you would always look at me,” he interrupted me. “How would I look at you?” I questioned.

“Like I was your entire world.”

My vision blurred, “How long have you known…” He inched closer, “Since before I even left.” “Bu-But why didn’t you say anything!?” I raised my voice a bit. “Because I knew it wouldn’t work out.”

My cheeks felt wet when he told me that. He inched closer, stopping me from talking. “Before you say anything I just wanted to say that it had nothing to do with you, in fact I loved you too. Heck, I still do. Y/N I love you.”

“But?” I asked, even more tears streaming down my face. He sighed, putting his hands on my face to wipe away the tears. “It was me. I knew I was going to have to leave one day and even if it wasn’t for too long I couldn’t bear it. I couldn’t just leave you.”

This man. He sure has a knack for worrying over the simplest things…

“You could’ve still talked to me about it,” I said, embracing him this time. I buried my head into his chest. His hands were holding onto me and stroking my hair. “I know… and for that I’m sorry.” I looked up at him, “You know… It’s okay and you wanna know why?” I asked. “Why,” he replied.

“Because I too still love you. Then and now, Haechan. I have always loved you, no matter how much I tried hating you… I just knew that if you were to ever show up in life again, I would welcome you back. I just can’t seem to live without you.”

He didn’t react. I watched as Haechan stood there, wide eyed like he couldn’t believe what was unfolding. I giggled a bit, finding his reaction amusing. However, now I was the one left wide eyed when he abruptly crashed his lips onto mine.

The kiss was gentle, yet still passionate. I tasted him, finding contentment of how perfectly his lips molded onto mine. He holds my face with both his hands, deepening the kiss. A moan ended up slipping from my throat when his tongue intruded inside my mouth. I wrap my hands around Haechan, enjoying this too much that I didn’t want to let go.

Unfortunately he's the first to pull away, both of us panting. His hands don’t let go from cupping my face as he leans down to my ear. “How about we continue this at my apartment?” he whispers into my ear. And so with a nod of my head, we hurriedly got into his car.

The car ride was silent, but the air felt heavy. Haechan’s hands on your thigh, fondling the flesh. You were sure your panties were soaked by this point. You seriously were growing impatient, you wanted nothing more but to have him within you already.

・❥・・❥・・❥・

Around 10 minutes later you both arrived at his apartment. You both hurriedly take off every article of clothing whilst kissing one another hungrily. You feel as his fingers slip to cup your sex before taking two of his fingers to glide along your pussy lips. The sensation causing you to pull away from the kiss panting and moaning. 

“Feels good Y/N?” Haechan asks as he takes those two fingers to your clit where he begins rubbing it. “Y-Yes!” I say, coming out rather loudly. He smiles before continuing his ministrations on your cunt.

On the other hand, his mouth has found its way on your body. Kissing every part of you from your cheeks, jaw, collarbone, and your breasts. Using his free hand, Haechan fondles one of your breasts while his mouth kisses around your nipple, nipping on the skin which causes you to wince. His eyes look up, “You alright baby?” he asks. Baby, god that has a nice ring to it, don’t it?

“I-I’m fine, just feels so good,” I reply, bringing a hand to his fluffy hair. Taking that as his sign that you were fine he continued. He stuck his tongue out, teasing your bud before bringing your nipple to his mouth. He sucked on it, using his tongue to lick on your bud. Then you watched as Haechan kissed a bridge to your other breast, repeating his actions onto your other breasts.

At this point your brain started becoming foggy, his hands and mouth were god's work. “Fuck,” I moaned. Haechan departs from your breast, ”You gonna cum already?” I nod my head, but then he flips me around. My hands on the door, and when I whipped my head around to look at him, Haechan was already going down. “Spread your legs for me baby,” he says in a sultry voice. I complied, opening myself for him.

I felt as he slapped me on my ass, “Good girl” he muttered as he takes in the wet mess behind me. Gripping onto my thighs he begins to lick up all my juices, letting out a satisfied groan when he finally tastes me. “Taste so good, baby. Can’t believe you’re this wet already,” he says as he kisses the sensitive skin around my cunt.

“Please.. M-More,” I moaned. I couldn’t handle his teasing anymore, I wanted him to make me cum already– to make a mess of me. “My pleasure Y/N,” Haechan says before licking up my cunt in slow strokes. Then bringing his tongue to my clit to give it some licks before using his mouth to suction on it. The sensation leaving me drooling, chanting his name repeatedly like some prayer.

When he finally lets go of my clit, his mouth departs from my cunt. I was left confused for a second before I felt his thumbs spread my lips apart. A second later his tongue intrudes inside me so deep it had me pressing my cheek against the door. The pleasure had me crying out, “S-So good!”

His tongue pushes itself further inside my gummy walls, while one of his hands smacks down on one of my ass cheeks. The smack eliciting more pleasurable moans from me. I felt myself growing close to cumming all over his face, just a little more…

Haechan must’ve sensed it too by the way I began tightening around his tongue as he brought his thumb to my clit. Once more he rubs on the sensitive bud, then pinching it with the help of his index finger.

So close… So close, but then he takes out his tongue. However I didn't get to whine at the loss of sensation because he quickly brought two fingers from his unoccupied hand inside my hole. His fingers stretched me out wonderfully, reaching me deep inside, and the pace kept above 100.

And with one final pinch on my clit, I gushed all over. Taking his fingers out quickly to capture all my juices as they leaked. He drank me up, from my cunt to my thighs. Like a starved man he managed to clean me all up.

Finally getting up, Haechan reaches me. He stares for a while, taking in my fucked out state. “You did so good,” he mutters, pecking my temple. “However, we’re not done yet so don’t fall asleep on me just yet.” As he said that he presses his hard cock in between my ass and rubbing it against my fucked out cunt. I swear I almost went crazy from the way his tip rubbed against my clit. I press myself against him more, wiggling my ass for him. I hear as he lets out a low chuckle before grabbing the sides of my ass and shoving himself in me with one swift move.

I yelp forward against the door, my first clenching. His hands gripping onto my waist, his finger tips sure to leave little crescent moons when all this is done. He pounded into me like a madman, rough and merciless. I was too engulfed in the pleasurable feeling of his tip reaching my womb that I didn’t mind his thrusting. He didn’t falter even after a while, grunting whenever he felt me clench around his cock.

The sounds of skin slapping and the squelching wetness were all you could hear throughout his apartment. You’d secretly hoped his room was soundproof because the obscene noises you two were making were sure to bring the neighbors complaining. However in Haechan’s mind he didn’t care one bit. Your noises were just too beautiful, becoming his new favorite song he wished to listen to on replay every single second of his days. Haechan glances down to where you both were connected, noting the white ring formed around his cock. Weirdly, but not weirdly turning him on all the more. You didn’t know if it was possible, but he picked up his pace.

Both of you growing close to your releases. Guiding one of his hands off your hips and to your swollen clit he works you closer to your second orgasm. All the more kissing his way up to your neck when he nibbles on the exposed skin when you tilt your head to the side. A thrust or two later, rolling your eyes back and fingertips piercing into your palms you have the most euphoric orgasm of the night– no of your life.

Taking his lips off you, he glances down to your gushing hole. Your orgasm coating all over his dick and pussy clenching around him, he twitches inside you before releasing. His cum coating your walls, stuffing you.

Taking his cock out, still half hard, he glances down at you as you collapse onto the floor. Your legs giving in, leaving you weak. He couldn’t stop thinking of how beautiful you look, and all like this because of him. Just those thoughts alone were enough to get him hard again. Haechan decides he hasn’t had enough yet and picks you up.

Hazily, you watch him carry you into his bedroom. He places you down first before sitting on the edge of the bed. He turns around to meet your eyes. “Come here,” he said, signaling you to come sit on his lap. Once again obliging, sitting on his lap. His hard cock resting in between your bodies, you bite on your bottom lip when you feel his tip rub against your stomach.

“Sit on it baby,” he whispers into your ear. Your eyes go wide for a moment before taking his cock in your hand, lifting yourself up so you slide it inside you again. In this position his cock reaches you deeply, fitting snug into you. “All that fucking with my fingers, mouth, and cock but you’re still so tight,” he whispers into your ear. His hot breath turning you on. He kisses his way to your neck, marking you even more. You were his after all.

“Come on baby, don’t be shy,” Haechan urges me. So placing my hands on his shoulders and lifting myself up, I slam down back onto him. My eyes widened at the way he reached me again, his cock feeling as though it was made specially for me.

I continued working my way on his cock, going at my own pace. Although to this Haechan felt as though he was being tortured. He felt as though you were teasing him; the way your face would scrunch up in pleasure, your low moans, your tits bouncing– all of it was torture to him. Having had enough, he brings his hands to your hips again.

He helps you bounce on his cock, faster and faster. The deep penetration, caused you to clench around him once more, squeezing him for all he’s worth. He groans, bringing his hand to your tit, squeezing it and using his fingers to pinch on your bud.

Letting go of his shoulders you bring your arms behind you, resting your hands on his knees. Thrusting into him this way on your own, he lets go of your hips now playing with your tits with both his hands. Later bringing his mouth into the mix as he licks on your nipples again, occasionally biting on your buds.

Your pace begins to falter, growing closer to your release again. Feeling too as Haechan’s cock twitches inside you, you bring one of your hands to your clit where you begin to play with it. His eyes begin watching you, enjoying the view in front of him. He hopes to engrave this memory into his brain forever.

“Le-Let’s cum together,” I moaned. “Mmm, cum on my cock for me again baby,” Haechan says. Your pussy obeying him, cumming on his cock for a third time tonight as his hot white seeds fill inside you again. Overwhelmed and exhausted from the pleasure, you both collapse on the bed, Haechan’s cock still inside you. He didn’t wanna slip out just yet.

・❥・・❥・・❥・

Eyes fluttering open, the morning sun peeking in through the curtains. You’ve finally awakened from your slumber, turning to your side but are met with nothing. The memories of last night's activities flood into your brain. You feel your face heat up. Oh god, I thought. Glancing down, I noticed I was now dressed in an over-sized shirt. It’s probably- “Sleep well,” he says, walking into the room. Well, well speak of the devil.

I tuck my hair behind my ear, smiling at him. “Mmm, best I’ve ever slept!” I say cheerfully. He smiles– that smile I knew from all those years ago. Walking over to me, he cups my face. “I love you.” I swear my smile reaches my eyes at his words, “I love you too, always have and always will.”

“You’ll be the death of me,” he mutters before bringing his lips onto mine. Kissing delicately and with so much love.

When he parted, he asked me something– “Will you be my girlfriend?” I didn’t hesitate as I jumped into his arms, “Yes!” I repeated.

Sharing another kiss, we spent the rest of the morning and day with one another. Enjoying one another like a couple of teenagers in love, making up for lost time.

© jhdyuiee

2024.07.21

final a.n: as promised, the fic of the week! i’m truly sorry it took longer than anticipated, i was working on my final the whoke week ㅠㅠ but now i should be free for the rest of the summer!!! anyhow im rlly excited for next week, kcon && seeing 127, practically sobbing ahhh! anyhow i hope to be back soon with doyoung’s story next, stay tuned! please continue supporting “WALK” !!! 🤍

[kayooreh]

ten dollar founding father

[gothamite-rambler]

A Phone Call from Jail - Kylar Got his Ass Beat Again

Wayne Manor - Study - Night

The dim light of the study casted long shadows across the room. Bruce Wayne stood alone, gazing out the window, mentally preparing for his nightly patrol as Batman. The tranquility was quickly interrupted by his cell phone ringing.

Bruce (furrowing his brows): And just like that… the moment is ruined.

Feeling a sense of unease, he answered the phone and was greeted by an automated female voice.

Automated voice: This is the Gotham City Jail. You have a collect call from—

The voice cut off as a familiar one interrupted, laced with guilt.

Jason (on the other end of the line): Um, Jason Todd.

Bruce's brows furrowed in confusion. Jason had gone six months without getting arrested and had sworn he would try to avoid ending up in Gotham Jail. He had to pay five hundred dollars for it, but still.

Automated voice: Do you accept the charges?

Bruce (irritated): Do I accept the charges? What the hell? Is this a joke?

Jason (shouting): Say yes Bruce! It's your son!

Bruce stared at the phone, insulted that he was being yelled at when he had to go out to patrol as Batman in an hour. He rolled his eyes believing his son's claims.

Bruce (annoyed): Yes, I accept the charges. Jason, explain.

Jason: Bruce… um, loving father of mine, um... funny story… me and Dick kind of ended up in jail as you heard and it's not a big deal what we were arrested for. Can you, uh… come get us and bring… bail money?

Bruce (concerned): Why do you need me to pick you up from jail? How did you both get arrested? Are you in your suits?

Jason (angry): We're not in our suits, you dumbass! The... business suits are at home, okay? When can you get here?

Bruce pulled the phone away, slightly irritated.

Bruce (aggravated): A simple no would have sufficed. Before I drive down to jail, start explaining why you and Dick are there.

There’s a pause, and Bruce can almost hear Jason debating with himself.

Bruce (demanding parent voice): I'm not leaving until you explain why you got arrested. Tick tock, detective.

Jason groaned knowing Bruce wasn't kidding around.

Jason: Well… long story short, Tim was dealing with this asshole homophobe at work. I talked him… for the sake of this recorded call, just know I ‘talked’ to him. He left Tim alone for a few days, but I guess he has a screw loose and decided to confront Tim while he was out to dinner with us. The guy was calling him a bunch of awful names—saying his reputation was ruined at work because people found out he was the one who left a slur keyed into Tim's car and a lot of words even I wouldn’t say—and then he ended it by calling Tim a dirty… bundle of sticks. Yeah.

Before Bruce could respond, the phone was wrestled away and another voice entered the call.

Dick (enraged): He called him a slur, that slur, so we beat his ass accordingly!

Jason jumped back in, a hint of admiration in his tone.

Jason: I will just take the phone back. What he said was true and man we... we kind of lost it. Surprisingly, Dick did the most damage.

Dick (in the background): This is stupid! How come we get arrested for doing a civic duty?

Jason: Would you sit down and breathe or something? Christ.

Silence fell as Bruce processed everything he had learned, his hands clenching as anger and worry swirled inside him. He was unaware that any of this was happening, but he knew how Tim liked to downplay issues, even when cases like this were anything but trivial.

Jason (confused by the long silence): Bruce… you there?

Taking a deep breath, Bruce spoke, unable to hide his irritated but steady voice.

Bruce: Just counting to ten so I can calm down. Why didn't Tim tell me any of this?

Jason: He... he didn't want to make the workers think he was running to his father for help. I don't get it, but you know how Tim is. Don't tell him I said this either, but it actually has been affecting him. A lot.

Bruce (struggling to keep his voice steady): I will... reassure him I'm here to help later tonight, thank you telling me this. Last question what was the worker's name?

Jason (disgust in his voice): Kylar.

Bruce felt a tightening in his chest hearing that name. Kylar has been hired on and Bruce saw him as one of the weaker workers, and now he had a better reason to fire him.

Bruce: Hn, that guy? I never liked him. He’s fired. I’ll make sure he’s personally escorted out of the building, and if he tries to harm Tim—

Jason (reminding his father): This is a recorded line.

Bruce (exhaling to calm himself): Right. I’ll be there in fifteen minutes.

Jason (a hint of relief): Cool.

With the call ended, Bruce slipped the phone back into his pocket, considering the whirlwind of emotions stirred by the conversation. As he stood there, reflecting on his sons’ reckless yet fierce protectiveness, he felt a mix of pride and frustration. The loyalty they displayed, despite their complicated pasts, only deepened his care for them.

With determination, Bruce left his study, knowing that night would be about more than just bailing his sons out of jail. It would be about setting boundaries and ensuring Tim felt safe at work.

Stepping outside, the cool night air rushed to greet him. Gotham sprawled across the horizon—a city of shadows and complexities. As both a vigilante and a father, he had to tread carefully.

His stride quickened, fueled by a protective instinct. The Batfamily always found trouble, but he would fiercely defend them, no matter what.

Don’t Mess with Tim Drake or his family will deal with you: Kylar

[slushiepizza]

Lazy Bones

Relationship : Guy & Guy's Dad, Guy & his parents

Tags : Father-Son Relationship, Dysfunctional Family, Mental Health Issues, Angst, Hurt-no-Comfort, Executive Dysfunction, Guy is more similar to his dad than he thought much to his dismay, and he has to grit his teeth and move on Toxic Family Dynamic

Word Count : 1,772

ao3 notes: something something he's gonna make it through this year if it kills him /j; both guy and his father are hinted to have mental health issues that i didn't specify for fear of ruining the immersion, but i do have a specific condition in mind when i wrote them this way

Guy knew what sort of day it was as soon as he woke up that afternoon.

His small dorm room was a vacuum, where time moved both like molasses and the speed of light. The dollar-store curtains did little to keep the afternoon sun away from the room. The AC slowly hummed. He could hear laughter outside- probably people coming back from class. His bones were stationary, and the defeated sort of embrace of the blanket welcomed him like a home. 

He mentally started counting down from ten and forced himself to move. He slowly made his way to the bathroom in the muted darkness, wincing when he accidentally kicked something plastic and sent it skidding across the floor. He’ll get it later. 

Guy found himself in front of the bathroom mirror and recognized what was in his eyes as something pathetic. The look on his face was familiar, and he’d seen that look a million times before. 

He hated what he saw.

—

Small hands slowly nudged a weary shoulder that early June. Everything was hazy in the heat of summer. A talk show- no, a sports program, was playing in the background from the CRT screen. 

“Dad. Daaad. Play with me,” he whined at the fresh age of five. “I’ll be the fire truck, ‘an you’ll be the train.” 

His Dad, a mountain of a man impossible to climb, laid himself against his chair. In that house, everyone shared everything except for that chair in the corner of the living room. That chair was his, and over the years, it’d soon mold itself into the shape of his body and its fabric would be stained with his beer. 

“Why don’t ‘cha bother your mom, instead, huh?” he grunted, unmoving. 

“She’s at the store,” Guy replied. 

“Go outside, or something. Y’know when I grew up, we used to just go to the woods and just. Played with sticks. You young’uns are soft, always need coddlin’ and buggerin’. Can’t even sit still for a second.” 

He looked up at his father’s stubbled, rugged face. Marred by the heat of the sun. “I can do that?!” 

“Sure, son,” the man looked at him with an almost sad sort of look. His labored arm, wiry and thick from long hours at the auto shop, reached out to muss up his hair.  “Your Pa’s… tired.” 

Guy was hunting for bugs in the backyard when his mother came back home from the store and yelled at her husband for letting him get dirty. And for sitting there all day, never doing anything useful. And that she wished that she never married someone who’d give up so easily as him.

He remembered that his father was tired a lot. 

—

Guy did the least he could do. He brushed his teeth and had a single slice of bread for breakfast. Anything is better than nothing, a dear friend told him. He guessed it was right because, on days when he felt like he wanted to let the mattress mold itself to the shape of his body, the only way he could survive was by keeping the ball rolling. A routine- or some form of it. What he did barely counted as one, but it was better than letting himself fall into the trap of falling back asleep. 

He opened the laptop, checked the calendar, and mentally kicked himself. 

The deadline was today. 

Guy liked to believe that he was a capable, competent person. But as soon as he opened the word document to write the last act of his script- a task that he’d put off from days before- his mind was full of noise. 

He craved mind-numbing comfort, so he sought it. He sunk into his chair and scrolled on his phone. In the back of his mind, he felt angry. 

_

Business was rough for the auto shop, and it later closed when Guy was sixteen. His dad never looked for another job- and he soon took his role as a stay-at-home father. 

The arguments soon died down, maybe because his parents had already worn each other out by that point. They barely saw each other anyway- his mother’s job at the hospital as a residential nurse kept it that way. 

His father was itching for control- and home was the only thing close enough to that. 

He was neurotic about where things were supposed to be. The chairs were supposed to be aligned with the floorboards, and Guy has had to sweep the floors multiple times. If a strand of his hair was found- it’d send his father into ballistics. 

Hair was another issue. 

“Isn’t it time for a haircut?” his dad asked as he vacuumed, without ever meeting Guy in the eyes. 

"I like it this way,” he replied. 

“Makes you look like a chick.” 

—

The videos on his phone flashed colors and various soundbites. It felt incomprehensible to him, and his mind fell into the space between awareness and daydream- a thick fog. 

He didn’t feel like catching the deadline. Maybe he should just give up and not do it. He could lie down and not do anything at all. 

“This is how I stayed productive even on days when I was exhausted and didn’t have any motivation. The Eisenhower matrix can help you manage your time-” the YouTube video droned and Guy felt himself slip away. 

He probably was just lazy.  He needed one day to get himself together and he could train himself to have discipline and not rely on motivation, or start time blocking, or start writing bullet journals and get his life together. 

—

Guy grew to realize that he hated his father. Hated the way he seemed to always park himself in front of the TV and not shower for days. Disgusting and good-for-nothing. The way he would only get up to go around the house and make sure that everything was in pristine condition. Unused, untouched. Guy hadn’t eaten in his dining room for ages. 

His father could’ve tried if he wanted to. He could’ve applied for other jobs, could’ve cared more about him. But he wallowed in the unknown frustrating corners of his mind and let days pass him by.

He could see the weight sagging his mother’s shoulders-the exhaustion in her eyes as she picked him up from school before going to her night shift. 

Guy’s biggest fantasy when he was growing up was for his parents to get a divorce. It never came, and in a sick and twisted way, they did need each other to survive. She needed the illusion of a family, and he needed the money.

“Why can’t you do it for me!” he yelled in a particularly heated fight. 

“I’m doing this for you! What do you even want?! For this family to be torn apart and to become the talk of the town?” 

“I don’t need you to stay together when all you do is yell at each other,” he pleaded. 

“You don’t understand,” she said and ended their discussion there. 

—

Before he knew it, it was dark outside and he hadn’t written a single word for his script. The deadline was in five hours, and he was sure that he’d be dropped from the project if he didn’t manage to make it.  

He sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose. A mix of voices rang in his skull: ‘The deadline is in five hours. You’ve done nothing, stupid.’ And ‘maybe you should eat something. You’re hungry, and you’ve only had bread.’ with ‘you should try starting now. You can still fight for this gig. It’s not over yet.’ 

Guy stood up and approached the pile of laundry on the corner of his bed. He mechanically folded them and arranged them in his drawer of clothes. It gave him the feeling that he had his life together. He hated the fact that he had to do such an ordeal just to do basic tasks. Double the effort for half the result. 

Everything felt like a hill he had to climb. Strategies, timers, to-do lists, tricks. It was frustrating, the fact that he was so damaged that he couldn’t straightforwardly do anything. 

Tears started to cloud his vision and all he could do was blink them away in anger. Anger at himself for being affected by people who do not care for him in the slightest (A lie, he will soon realize. They did care- but it was the only sort of care that they understood.) He hated that he was a carbon copy of his father despite having tried so desperately to be different. 

He studied hard in school, and he worked double, and triple shifts at Max’s to support himself. But he couldn’t escape from what he was. This… sickness, the willingness to give up so easily was passed down from his father like a curse. It was in his blood, written in his bones. At the end of the day, he was still his father’s son. 

—

The thing is, his dad did try. Between the narcissist, and the mid-life crisis-ridden man, there were glimpses of what he was underneath it all. What he could’ve been. 

He remembered when it stormed all morning before he had to turn in a science project for freshman year in high school. He’d woken up late, and by the time he was at the bus stop, lugging poster board and styrofoam diagrams in a wheelbarrow behind him, it’d left. 

His father had run to catch up with him with an umbrella. 

“I’ll walk ‘ya to school. Don’t want ‘em to get wet when you’d barely sleep making them.” 

It’d been embarrassing. For someone his age to be walked to school by his dad. But all he noticed was the fact that his father had leaned the umbrella completely over him and the wheelbarrow. He was drenched, and he’d never been too fond of the cold. 

“I can wear my jacket,” he mumbled. “Just tilt it your way. You’re getting wet.” 

“Doesn’t matter,” his dad replied. “The only thing that matters is for you to get to school okay. Get good grades so you don’t become a loser.”

—

Guy wiped his tears and sat himself back down in front of the laptop. He let the all-encompassing, overwhelming mix of anger and sadness run through him. He wasn’t going to fuck it up. He wouldn’t let anything get in the way of the work that he loved doing. He gritted his teeth and did it even when every part of him protested. 

Despite his father, despite his restless mind. 

Despite it all, he’ll die fighting, bruised.

[notsocooljess]

Double Date

finally wrote the drabble i’ve been trying to write for weeks based on this reddit post discovered by @rainymyx in this post. i had so much fun writing this!

i want to continue to add to this based on the original reddit poster’s updates, so we’ll see!

read this on ao3 here

“What can I say? College football days should always be the best days of a man’s life. Now your best days can be listening to me talk about them.”

Ugh. Katniss huffed out a puff of air as she listened to Cato speak. An hour ago, she had been so excited for this date. They were texting for the past two weeks, and their conversation was easy and funny and, most importantly, normal. Now in person, his vibe was totally different than who he portrayed himself as online. Now, he was a thirty-year-old man who wouldn’t stop talking to her about his glory days from ten years ago and the “boozing, blinkers, and babes” that came with them.

After only receiving their appetizers and a single drink, Katniss knew she couldn’t stick around. The thought of having to hear Cato talk about another frat party he attended before The Force Awakens was released was nearly enough to bring her to tears. Desperate, Katniss did what she always did in trying times like these: text Johanna.

“Katniss! Katniss! I need your help, quick!” Johanna’s voice rang through her phone not even a minute later. Her ability to sound like she was truly in agony was as impressive as always.

“Johanna!? What’s going on?” Katniss responded, hoping her acting was, for the first time in her life, passable.

“It’s the baby! I need you here now!” her childless, non-babysitting, kid-hating friend shouted before quickly hanging up.

Katniss darted her eyes to Cato’s, and his brows were knit tightly as if he were trying to to put together the pieces of the conversation that just transpired.

“I’m sorry, I’m not sure if you heard. My friend really needs me. She needs help with her… baby. I hate to cut this short, but,” she didn’t finish her sentence as she slipped on her coat. She shuffled through her bag and retrieved a twenty-dollar bill, smacking it on the table.

“Oh, yeah, it’s cool. You still wanna meet up at my place later, right? I have the best surprise waiting for you,” Cato responded while wagging his eyebrows, seemingly uncaring about her fabricated dire emergency or the quality of their date at all. This only irritated Katniss more. Her friend’s fake baby was in trouble, and all he cared about was getting laid!

“Uh… yeah, no. Definitely not. Let’s just forget about this, okay? Have the night you deserve,” Katniss practically snarled as she fled the restaurant.

Once she was in her car, she peeled out of the parking lot and quickly went around the block, looking for a place to park so she could call Johanna. She found a spot located outside of a small pub and dialed her friend.

“How was I this time? I feel like I’m really perfecting my blood-curdling shrillness. What do you say? Any pointers?” Johanna asked as soon as she answered the phone.

Katniss wanted to laugh, but now that the situation was over, she felt defeated. She actually had high hopes for this date, but she again found herself needing to bail.

At twenty-eight, Katniss finally felt ready to do things for herself. Before this, there was never the time. She was raising her sister Prim and taking care of her mother for more than a decade since her father’s passing. Now, Prim was in her second year of medical school where she received full funding for her work, and her mother has a live-in aide to help her with her daily needs. She finally did not have to spend all of her time focusing on school and work and money and bills, and without Prim nearby, she felt lonely. Her friends had convinced her to start going on dates, but after months of failed attempts, she still had nothing to show for it.

“Is it me, Jo?” she responded, “Do I just attract these weirdos?”

“Oh, shut up, brainless. You've been going on dates for a few months. Maybe if you gave yourself a little more practice when we were younger it’d be easier, but some people take years to find something that sticks. You’re hot. You’re smart. You’re caring. Maybe a little hard to swallow with the scowl, but anyone that gets to know the real you is gonna love you.”

She sighed, “Okay.”

“You wanna come over here? I was just going to watch some Dexter reruns, but there’s plenty of room on this couch for two.”

“Actually, I think I need a drink. I’ll let you know what I’m doing after.”

Katniss’s conversation with Johanna ended shortly after, and she made her way into the pub.

The pub was crowded, a symptom of it being a Friday evening in the winter, and Katniss had to shuffle past a group of freshly legal college students to make it to the bar. She wanted something simple, something just to take the edge off, and was quickly handed her rum and coke.

Eager to people-watch while she nursed her drink, Katniss scanned the crowd for an empty seat. Most of the tables seemed to be taken up by a larger group, but a single chair at a small table in the corner of the room was wonderfully vacant. Katniss closed her tab and swiftly made her way across the room.

As she approached, she stopped in her tracks. Hidden from her initial view was a man sitting on the other side of the table, somewhat hunched over with a book in his hands. Before she could backtrack and look for another open seat, he picked his head up and locked eyes with her.

“Oh, I’m sorry. I was gonna sit here but didn’t realize you were already here. I’ll just…” her voice trailed off. Katniss had a habit of not finishing her sentences when she was flustered, and after meeting the man’s gaze, she was very flustered. Not only was she not expecting someone to be sitting at the table, but now that he was looking at her, his blue eyes piercing through to her even under the pub’s dim lights, she realized he was around her age and absolutely hot. Her hands began to sweat, and her tongue started to feel like lead.

The man smiled, an endearing smile that quirked more on the left side of his face, highlighting a sole dimple on his cheek. “Don’t worry about it. You can sit here,” He replied, his eyes scanning the room. “Besides, it doesn’t look like there’ll be much room anywhere else.”

“Are you sure?” She asked, and he nodded. “Thank you so much. I promise I won’t even bother you. We don’t even have to talk or anything…” Katniss said as she placed her bag on the table and took her seat.

Katniss started scanning the other patrons of the pub to observe their activities, but her eyes frequently darted back to the man seated across from her. She gathered more bits and pieces of his appearance in the brief moments she allowed herself to study his features. He had blond, curly hair that looked intentionally tousled. His shoulders were very broad, pulling the fabric of his navy henley taut across his chest. He had freckles across the bridge of his nose, and he drummed the table with his left hand while holding the book he was reading in his right.

After a few minutes, he lifted his eyes up from his book and offered her a soft smile. “My name is Peeta, by the way.”

“Katniss,” she said, offering a shy smile of her own.

“You know, I really don’t mind talking if you want to.”

Her grin grew. “Okay, then.” She paused, unsure of where to start, but her curiosity eventually got the better of her when she asked, “Can I ask why you’re reading a book at a crowded bar on a Friday night?”

Peeta chuckled, a laugh that let Katniss know he wasn’t offended. “You waste no time getting to the deep stuff. I actually just moved into my first solo apartment, and as much as I’m happy to have my own space, the silence feels kinda deafening.”

“Ah,” she began, appraising him up and down, “so you find comfort in the chaos.”

“Yeah, I guess I do. I grew up in a house with two older brothers, and the two of them used to practice wrestling no matter where they were. In the dining room, the backyard. One time they threw each other down the stairs,” he chuckled again, “Our mom wasn’t too happy about that one.”

“You’re joking,” Katniss laughed.

“Not even a little bit, I swear. And then I lived in a house with my three friends all the way through grad school. My best friend Finnick used to play eighties pop at all hours of the day. Think, like, Donna Summer or Cyndi Lauper on full blast at three in the morning.”

“And you guys never asked him to stop?” Katniss asked, finding she wanted to know more and more about him.

At this, Peeta hit her with a dead stare, his blue eyes piercing her with a combination of humor and seriousness. “See, that is something only someone who doesn’t know Finnick would ask. If we made any attempts to get him to stop this relatively-harmless-if-not-mildly-annoying behavior, we would only trigger severely worse outcomes for us all.”

“And you said this is your best friend?” Peeta let out a boisterous laugh in reply.

While sitting with Peeta, Katniss found the guard she had put up during her date with Cato had come crashing down.

They spoke about their jobs. Katniss explained how she works as a forest ranger, but she hopes to finish school to become an environmental engineer. Peeta said that he just finished graduate school to become a doctor of architecture.

“I really liked art, but it wasn’t enough to satisfy my parents or pay the bills, so I tried to do the next best thing I could think of.”

“So you became a literal doctor? In a field that’s focused on math and design? Are you a genius?”

“Time Magazine did call me the reincarnation of Albert Einstein.”

“Hm. And to think I placed you more as a Michelangelo.”

They spoke about their families. Katniss spoke about her mom and Prim. She bragged about her sister’s accomplishment in getting a full ride to a great medical school across the country. She felt so comfortable with Peeta, she didn’t even shy away from speaking about her late father, even if it was in the briefest of terms. Peeta nodded his head as she spoke, squeezing her hand across the table when he sensed certain details were particularly hard for her to get out. Peeta, the son of bakers, grew up really close with his older brothers. His oldest brother took over the family business, and while Peeta loves baking, he enjoys it more as a hobby than a career.

This seamlessly led to them speaking about their childhoods. Katniss was mostly shy, harboring two friends, Madge and Gale, through her schooling, despite her being a star on her school’s track and archery teams. University allowed her to come out of her shell and meet friends that didn’t matter her reticent personality, like Johanna. Peeta wrestled, painted, did debate team, and wrote. He had a solid group of friends during school, but he found his lifelong friends in college.

They spoke about the little things. Their favorite colors. Favorite snacks. Movies. Shows. And their answers were so similar across all categories, they had a near total eclipse on a venn diagram of each topic. Their responses were so alike that, at one point, Katniss plastered her face with her signature scowl Peeta had not yet been acquainted with, asking him if he was being totally honest with his responses.

He raised his hands in mock surrender, “Look, that scowl is too intimidating for me to not come clean. So the truth is, I’ve been being honest this entire time.”

Before Katniss realized, nearly two hours had gone since she first sat down with Peeta. They fell into a comfortable silence, and she studied his features more in the muted light. She tried to picture what he looked like out of this setting. Hunching over a sketchbook. Cooking in his kitchen. Laughing with his friends. Cheering on his nephews at their little league games.

She studied the way the dim light caught onto the golden strands of his eyelashes, becoming mesmerized by the way they fluttered against his cheek when he blinked. She didn’t even realize she was staring until he spoke again, causing her to jump slightly.

“So what about you?” He asked, a small grin on his lips.

“What about me?”

“Well, before you asked what I’m doing at a bar alone on a Friday night. But what are you doing alone here on a Friday night so that I, a stranger, was able to take up so much of your time?”

Katniss contemplates what she should say, unsure if she should reveal her failed date with Cato. But as Peeta looked at her with sincerity in his eyes, she has the hunch that she could really trust him.

“If I’m honest, I came here because I had left a really, really bad first date,” she responded sheepishly.

Peeta cocked his left eyebrow expectantly. “How bad?”

“Well… it was so bad I made my best friend call me and say she was having an emergency with her fake baby to give me a reason to bail,” Katniss blurted out, her tone hitching at the end to make her statement sound more like a question. Like she was questioning if she really did that herself.

Both of Peeta’s eyebrows were raised, his eyes glinting with amusement, lips curling in to stop him from laughing. “You’re kidding me,” he managed to croak out.

“In my defense, he only spoke about his college football experiences, and after I started leaving to go help my friend with her fake baby, he still asked if we were having sex later!”

At this, Peeta burst out laughing, and after Katniss realized exactly what she said, she joined him. As Katniss clutched her stomach, tears leaking out of the corners of her eyes, she almost missed what Peeta said next.

“That’s why I’ve kind of given up on dating.”

“Given up?” Katniss asked, her voice airy from her recent laughter and something silly like concern that she might have been wrong about the connection she felt with him all night.

“In grad school, every date I went on just didn’t have any spark. They were just mediocre. Then, I got so busy with trying to finish my degree, I just gave up on the whole thing.” For the first time that night, Peeta responded without meeting her gaze.

She’s not sure what made her say it. Maybe it was the second rum and coke she had gotten while talking with Peeta. Maybe it was that she felt like she had nothing left to lose after her first failed date of the night. Or, maybe it was because she knew she’d majorly regret if she didn’t try to continue with the something that she felt burning between her and Peeta, but she had to say it.

“I find that hard to believe considering this is probably the closest thing I’ve had to a good date in what feels like forever.”

At this, Peeta drew his head back in what appeared to be shock. His eyes met her again, an indecipherable expression plastering his features as he searched hers. Katniss shifted in her chair, somewhat uncomfortable with his unreadable scrutiny.

Finally, Peeta’s features relaxed. and he looked Katniss right in the eye with a neutral, if not somewhat strained, expression. “Tell you what,” he began, “I have to go to the bathroom, but when I come back, I’ll ask you out for real.”

Katniss shot him a curious expression, but as Peeta began to move, it clicked. He did not stand from his seat – he wheeled back from the table, towards the back of the bar with the bathrooms. His left pant leg tied off just below the knee. Katniss understood: he wanted her to see everything about him before she agreed to go on a date with him. He was giving her an out.

At this, Katniss’s gut twisted, both with regret and butterflies. She felt somewhat bad for him, wondering if this was a move he made from being rejected for his physical condition before. Wondering how anyone could do that to anyone, let alone a guy like Peeta. But overpowering this feeling were the butterflies. He liked her. He wanted her to see all of him. He was laying his insecurities bare for her. Most importantly, he already trusted her. In mind, body, and spirit, he couldn’t be any more beautiful.

A minute later, Peeta emerged from the bathroom, a goofy grin plastered across his face to perfectly match hers.

As soon as he reached the table, the words came tumbling out of Katniss’s mouth before she could stop them.

“So, I’m free all weekend. What do you have in mind?”

[lau219]

Enemies with Benefits

Part 21: (1 of 2)

Previous part here

I know I said that this chapter would be where we see some real vulnerability from Tommy, but I decided to split this chapter up. So here’s part 1 of 2. Part 2 coming very soon!

…………………………………………………………………………….

“Look, what’s done is done, Tommy,” Polly said as she stood near the window in Tommy’s office, resting against the sill as she looked at him from across the room. “He’s already here, Arthur’s already given him the money. So the question now is, how do we move forward?”

Still looking at Tommy, Polly raised her cigarette to her lips as she waited for him to respond.

Sitting in his desk chair, Tommy was faced in Polly’s general direction, but rather than looking at her, he was focusing on the wall just beyond her shoulder, trying to force himself to calm down. Everything that was happening causing the blood in his veins to boil and rush, and he wasn’t sure he was able to speak yet without yelling.

Arthur. Fucking Arthur. The fucking moron was absolutely brainless.

After all these years, after all the false claims and repeated broken promises, he still yearned for their father’s attention and affection, and fell for it every time when Arthur Sr. would weasel his way back into their lives temporarily. Arthur always hoped and believed that their father actually cared for his children and that a reconciliation was in the cards, and every time, those hopes were quickly dashed when their father would yet again disappear as soon as he got whatever it was he really needed, once again dropping any and all contact for God knew how long, until the next time he’d inevitably present himself again.

The last time it happened, it had left a larger than ever dent in the family’s bank account and had thrown Arthur into an incredibly deep depression, not to mention causing the reactivation of Tommy’s involvement in multiple less-than-legal deals and connections that he’d spent the previous two years slowly trying to remove himself from. Arthur had yet again helped their father use their name and money to cover his ass for debts he owed and promises he’d broken to others.

Tommy had sworn that as soon as the latest bout was resolved, he’d make it so that all this could never happen again. Once he’d found out Ada was pregnant, Tommy had immediately begun the process of moving them all to the States. No way was he going to let all this keep happening and for his nephew to be subjected to the same toxic shit they all had been subjected to. He was ready to finally operate cleanly and never have to deal with their father again. It was time for a new chapter, which is what he’d promised himself the very first day he’d made the final return home from service. And then he’d finally accomplished it, cutting the old ties and creating a new home base for them all here, making his mark in more legal ways and managing to keep his father away for the last four years.

But apparently, four years was the longest Arthur was able to remember what a piece of shit their father was before forgetting again, and when he had evidently reached out to Arthur two months ago, Arthur had all too eagerly responded.

Just as he’d told Tommy, Arthur Sr. originally claimed the reason for his visit was that he wanted to meet his grandson and also congratulate his sons on their success and see for himself all that they’d accomplished. But, unable to hide his own idiocy, Arthur had admitted to the family the other day that he’d given their father over ten thousand dollars to pay off multiple gambling debts he’d been unable to talk himself out of back in Birmingham. And these apparently were debts that had formidable payees, some of whom Tommy was all too familiar with from his own previous interactions with them. They all knew the success Tommy had made himself, and therefore had granted his father the permission to head to the U.S. to get them the money he owed.

Upon learning what Arthur had done, Tommy had immediately frozen his ability to access or use any of the family accounts, and he'd warned John that if a single additional cent went unaccounted for, he'd cut him off, too. Over the last few days, Arthur and Tommy hadn't spoken or seen each other, as Arthur had made himself scarce since the reaming Tommy had given him. And although he'd gotten what he needed, their father was still hanging around, having joined Arthur wherever the hell it was he'd slunk off to.

As he'd told Y/N, Tommy had planned on giving him a very harsh piece of his mind and then sending him packing the couple days after he'd arrived. However, they ended up having not seen each other again yet, and it made Tommy all the more angry and tense that he was still around and undoubtedly filling Arthur's head with more bullshit.

"Stop stewing over this and just let it go," Polly spoke again then, cutting into Tommy's thoughts. "It's only ten grand."

Now moving his eyes to Polly, Tommy finally spoke.

"You think I give a fuck about the money?" he asked rhetorically, his voice filled with anger. "It's the fucking fact that he's here, that he's just stirring the pot and filling Arthur's head with bullshit, and that he fucks with everyone every Goddamn time and none of you ever seem to fucking comprehend that he's a waste of fucking life!"

Tommy's voice had risen the longer he'd spoke, and he felt his blood boiling again. For fuck's sake, why did Polly never get angry about the right stuff?

"Besides you, Thomas, no one knows better than me what a piece of shit your father is," Polly said then, keeping her cool as she took another drag from her cigarette and looked back at him. "But you can't undo what Arthur's done, and despite your best efforts to control him, you'll have to put a tracking device on that idiot if you want to keep him from ever engaging with your father again. I accepted a long time ago that it's pointless — he's never gonna give up the perfect picture of Daddy being who he wants him to be."

Tommy gave a bitter scoff, turning back to his desk and lighting a cigarette before he then replied to Polly.

"Well, he's gonna give it up. Because when they finally get back here, that perfect picture is gonna be lit on fucking fire."

Part 21: (2 of 2)

@nyxxie-pooh @xsweetcatastrophe @allie131313 @betty21rose @febris-amatoria

@hannibellector @fairytale07 @meister95 @alltoowellbeneaththemangotree @beastofburdenxo

@runnning-outof-time @aphroditeslover11 @galactict3a @natalie--rushman @wild-rose-35

@judig92 @pkmonka @ladyvenera @karah-bear @k1ng-l3on

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@garrison-girl-08 @devotedlyshadowytheorist @emotionalcadaver @muhahaha303 @mostly-marvel-musings

@darklydeliciousdesires @an-eclectic-of-mass-destruction @vervainandspritz @wonderlanddreamer @novashelby

@honeymoon8 @cardan-official @meadows5

[youunravelme]

NEW FIC?? RATTHEW???? im SATTTTTTTT do u have any sneak peeks for us 👀👀👀👀 cant wait!!! <33

hmmmmm, well i guess i could give you a sneak peak rn since you're being so nice :)

the fic is split into two different timelines, before and after, so that's why you'll see "before" at the beginning of the sneak peek.

anyway, here's wonderwall

before

you were incredibly aware that you didn’t quite fit in. your mom drove you to school in a beat up 1997 toyota camry which looked incredibly out of place among the bmws and audis. your mom offered to walk you in, but she was wearing her scrubs from her night shift and her face looked tired, so you declined the offer and got out of the car yourself.

it shouldn’t have been as daunting as it was, but your old school wasn’t as prestigious as this one. your previous schools in cedar rapids had been public schools. no one was wearing a uniform, and most of the backpacks worn came from the same walmart in your old neighborhood. 

but your parents had decided they wanted a better education for you, even if neither of them had the money to fork out thousands of dollars for a private school. your mom’s parents, however, were loaded. they were more than willing to fork out a small fortune for your schooling under the conditions of your family uprooting your lives to missouri. you were too young to realize what a sacrifice that was, you didn’t notice the snide comments your grandparents made about your father’s choice of career or your mother’s choice in husband.

you didn’t see your grandparents any more than you usually did since you’d moved to missouri two weeks ago. they’d been out of town on a trip to rome up until three days ago and hadn’t reached out to have dinner or hang out at all.

not that you cared at the age of nine, you were more focused on unpacking your room. but now that you were standing in front of the giant school alone, you felt like you should’ve been more concerned with how nice your school supplies were.

a kind woman greeted you at the entrance of the school. she smiled and introduced herself, though you couldn’t hear her over the roaring in your ears. she stood next to a blond haired blue eyed boy who was your height.

“are your parents here?” you weren’t sure how you heard her over the noise in your head.

you shook your head. “my mom had to go home and my dad is at work.”

the woman blinked. “is today your first day?”

“mom, it’s everyone’s first day of school,��� the boy groaned.

“i wasn’t talking to you, matthew,” she said, though her eyes never left your own.

“i just moved here,” was all you said, albeit a bit quietly. 

“well, you can walk in with us.” She placed a warm hand on your back and ushered you inside next to her son.

you took notice of her nicer clothing compared to your mom’s scrubs or your dad’s tattered khakis, though the woman’s clothing wasn’t as ostentatious as other parents’.

“do you know your teacher’s name?” the woman asked.

you nodded and showed her the crumpled paper in your hand. the night before, you were wracked with nerves and wrote your teacher’s on a blank sheet of paper and doodled around it. even at nine years old, you were concerned that you’d somehow forget. you couldn’t be more grateful for it now.

the woman’s face lit up. “oh how lucky! matthew look! you’re in the same class.”

matthew for his part, tried to look happy about it, but his eyes kept wandering to the hallways, like he was looking for people he knew. you felt bad for even being in this situation. you missed your friends from iowa and the light up shoes you used to wear before you were given a uniform.

matthew’s mom pointed out the classroom that was supposed to be yours and walked both you and matthew into the room. unlike her son, who immediately found his friends to do elaborate handshakes with, you stayed by her side. she was a stranger, sure, but she was more comforting that the classroom of fifteen other nine and ten year olds.

the woman sighed and bent down a little to look you in the eyes. “it’s gonna be a good day, sweetheart,” she said. “mr. terry is a great teacher, he’s really kind.” you weren’t sure how she would know that, but you weren’t going to call her a liar. “and if you need anything, ask matthew. he’s been going here since kindergarten, okay?”

you nodded.

mr. terry walked over and introduced himself. he had dark skin and a bright smile, showing you to your seat. your name was on a card with fun stickers on it. next to your seat, you saw matthew’s name. now it wasn’t necessarily an unpopular name, there were three matthews in your third grade class, so you weren’t holding out hope that it was going to be the matthew you walked into class with. but two minutes later, he was plopping down into the seat to your left.

matthew looked almost startled to see you sitting next to him, but when the shock wore off he gave you a crooked smile and stuck his hand out. “i’m matt,” he said, like you two didn’t walk into class together.

you shook his hand anyway and gave him a shy smile and told him your name, just in case he didn’t see it written on your desk.

if it was even possible, his smile widened. “pretty name,” he said.

[moa-yaps]

What would hamiltom think about the musical? The bastard, orphan, son of a whore and a scotsman, dropped in the middle of a forgotten spot in the Caribbean, ten dollar founding father without a father, arrogant, hot-headed, short-tempered, protean creator of the coast guard, founder of the new york post?

[chuuyrr]

bsd characters receive love letters from scarlet witch! baby fushiguro! reader — a valentine's day special

jujutsu kaisen x reader x bungo stray dogs

masterlist of the series

╰➤ CW(s): possible spoilers for bungou stray dogs and jujutsu kaisen, fluff/comfort content

╰➤ PAIRING(s): platonic! bungo stray dogs & jujutsu kaisen x child! reader

╰➤ SYNOPSIS: in which our beloved bungo stray dogs characters, especially dazai osamu, receive valentine's day love letters and discover that they came from you, the dimensional traveling scarlet witch who happens to come from a world of curses and sorcerers they knew and loved like a little sister or niece. click to view the full request here !

there wasn't much work in the armed detective agency office, but dazai, being dazai, was exaggerating how it was february 14—a day of love and romance while also throwing in some comments about having someone to commit double suicide with, much to atsushi's dismay.

being the armed detective agency, they just weren't ones for holidays. duties calls given their line of work. it just so happened that today was miraculously not loaded with investigations and such.

while everyone else was just getting through the day, kunikida had returned from his own work, much to everyone's and dazai's surprise, carrying a large bag in one hand and a smaller bag in the other. it was quite amusing to see the young blonde man was struggling.

"woah, what'chu got there kunikida-kun?" ranpo inquired, poking at the large bag on the floor next to the blonde man.

"t-they're.. letters.." kunikida managed to say as he gasped for air with hands on his knees.

"letters? you mean work for us to do?!" exclaimed atsushi, whose mortified expression was mirrored by tanizaki.

"huh? no!" kunikida exclaimed, furrowing his brows, "they are love letters to dazai!"

everyone in the armed detective agency froze and practically screamed, "WHAT?!"

dazai's eyes lit up as he clasped his hands together, watching kunikida practically shove the massive bag of love letters towards him, "they're all for me? really?!"

"ugh, even until now, i still have the charms to lure ladies and gents!~" dazai exclaimed as he leaned back dramatically.

"that's an unusually large number of love letters," yosano's sweat dropped as she watched dazai open the bag to reveal more of the letters that were peeking out.

dazai chose the first envelope in the bag that had a "read me first!" note attached to it, and just by looking at it, he noticed that the handwriting was quite messy, which was appropriate for a child's handwriting.

he opened it right away and found his eyes widening in surprise, which somewhat alarmed everyone.

"what is it, dazai-san?" atsushi furrowed his brows in concern.

"it's from [name]-chan!" dazai exclaimed, his face bright and happy, waving the letter in the air as if he had won a million dollars.

"letters from [name]-chan?" kenji commented with a closed-eye smile, "aww, how sweet!"

"h-how?! [name]-chan wrote all of that?!" atsushi was in complete disbelief.

"happy valentine's day dazai-nii! sorry for not being able to go there to greet you and everyone myself," dazai read out the letter with a smile, everyone smiling in awe, "i've got you everyone letters though! the big bag is all yours dazai-nii, while the small bag contains everyone else's. all of the letters are written with love!"

"wow.. talk about favorites.." tanizaki chuckled softly and held the nape of his back as kunikida opened the smaller bag he was holding to reveal ten envelopes, each sealed with a barbie, baby shark, or pokemon sticker.

"of course, dazai-san would get more letters..." atsushi commented and patted tanizaki's shoulder as kunikida handed out letters to him, tanizaki, kyouka, kenji, yosano, ranpo, fukuzawa, naomi, and kirako.

"what else does the first letter say, dazai?" ranpo inquired, peering over dazai's shoulder with the others.

"[name]-chan said that the reason she couldn't come here was because her father had given her a temporary ban," dazai explained, his sweat and tone of voice dropping at his next words, "apparently [name]-chan had accidentally teleported to a world of human eating giants."

"is she okay?" kyouka clenched her fists, clearly worried about you, her little sister figure.

"[name]-chan is safe," dazai reassured the young girl as he read the letter, "her father just made her promise not to use her wiggly-woos magic for a little while, so she just sent us love letters instead."

"that's a good to hear, dazai," fukuzawa sighed in relief and placed a closed hand on his chest.

you expressed your heartfelt gratitude to dazai for looking after and loving you in the same way your adoptive father, gojo satoru, would, and as a result, you've always felt at ease with him and the rest of the armed detective agency. as dazai read your special valentine's day message for him, he couldn't help but giggle in delight.

dazai opened another envelope from the large bag meant for him and read its contents to the others, "hi dazai-nii! i'm at school today again but daddy's training gumi-nii, yuuji-nii, and nobara-nee today so i'm watching from the sides. i just saw gumi-nii faceplant and i can't stop laughing about it! it was really funny!"

"gumi-nii?" naomi cocked her head at the mention of an unfamiliar name.

"oh, that's [name]-chan's actual older brother," dazai explained, remembering you telling him everything about your family. "his name is megumi, but [name]-chan likes to call him gumi for short. yuuji and nobara, on the other hand, are megumi's classmates whom she sees as older brother and sister."

"oh! i didn't know [name]-chan had an actual older brother," atsushi commented, blinking.

dazai picked up another letter and read it, laughing, "hi dazai-nii! something funny happened today! i accidentally made yuuji-nii butt naked in front of the higher-ups with my wiggly-woos. i got in trouble though, but it's not too bad. daddy didn't give me kikufuku as usual for dessert after dinner as my punishment."

"she what?!" atsushi screamed as yosano, ranpo, and the others laughed and snickered.

"sometimes i forget just how powerful and funny [name]'s abilities can be," yosano continued to giggle at the story.

"but that is quite unfortunate however.." fukuzawa's cleared his throat, his sweat dropping at the mere thought of it.

dazai kept opening more of the letters you'd given him and reading them to the rest of the armed detective agency.

the next one after the wiggly-woos magic error was you telling him about the mama duck and her baby chicks you saw while strolling through the forest part of the school, or more accurately, running away from the sight of gojo satoru and his students because you did mention that everyone was frantically looking for you while you were simply watching the ducks. you even drew those ducks on your letter, or at least attempted to. it was completely unrecognizable, but you tried, okay?

"are you sure those are ducks?" kunikida squinted his eyes and adjusted his glasses, his sweat dropping.

"hey, now! don't shame [name]-chan's art! they're ducks if you look closely, kunikida-kun!" dazai elbowed the young blonde man before turning to kyouka, "it's a very good drawing, right kyouka-chan?"

"mhm," kyouka gave dazai a thumbs-up as she hummed in agreement.

"ah, kids," kunikida sighed, stifling a soft chuckle as he shook his head.

the following letters followed suit. you told dazai about the cartoon shows you watched, the food you ate, and the toys and clothes you received from your father and family members.

in fact, you told him everything that happened in your life, including you tripping and using your magic to help people in secret, and as dazai opened and read through them all, he soon realized that the reason you had sent him so many letters was because you'd been writing for him since the beginning of february, and it was exactly as you quoted,

"it's not everyday that i get to be in your universe to know yours, so i want you to get to know what being in mine is like," was what you wrote in the last letter that was in the bottom of the bag, "i've read your mind once dazai-nii, and well, i figured it would be a good try if i were to show you what living is like through my eyes. to get you to know what life is like for me here."

the next words at the bottom of the letter softened dazai's eyes, which were accompanied by hearts and a doodle of you and him together.

"it's the little things that makes life worth living, and i hope you know that me learning i can travel and going to your universe, meeting you and everyone there, and the rest of your other selves makes life worth living because i got to meet a family i never thought i'd have. it makes me feel like i'm never alone and that it is fate that made it happen. oh, and dazai-nii? i love you in every universe. happy valentine's day!"

dazai would be lying if he said he wasn't emotional. as expressive and comical as he was, it was unusual for him to be emotional, just as it was rare for him to be caught off guard.

nonetheless, dazai leaned back further in his seat, closing his eyes as he smiled and took in your final message in the last letter, and softly whispered, "happy valentine's day, [name]-chan. i love you too in every universe."

it wasn't just dazai who was overcome with emotion. the rest of the armed detective agency was, too, as they opened the love letters they received from you next.

as you thanked fukuzawa for looking after you, he was soft with how you see him as an uncle or grandpa figure. you even drew cats on his letter and told fukuzawa about the cats you saw in the park when you returned to your world. he did, however, started sweating with worry when you told him you would summon an army of cats if he so desired because you love him that much!

yosano thought it was very sweet that you saw her as a very cool auntie figure with whom you enjoyed hanging out and talking about girl-stuff. you also thanked her for tending to your minor injuries while visiting and playing in their universe, and you expressed your love with doodles of butterflies because they remind you of her.

ranpo, like dazai, was smiling the entire time he read your praises for him being the best uncle detective you ever had and how much you enjoyed solving mysteries with him. you even sent ranpo some of your favorite candy and chocolate with the letter he received from you.

the tanizaki siblings were in awe by your valentine's day letter. naomi and junichiro were both happy to read your appreciation for them caring for and loving you as if you were their little sister.

kyouka became shy when she discovered your letter for her littered with doodles of bunnies and hydrangeas. even if it was barely recognizable, she still loved it because you remembered her, and most importantly, she's extremely glad you see her as an older sister figure whom you admire and look up to. kyouka became timid of your compliments about her beauty and coolness too, however.

kenji thought it was very sweet of you to look up to him as an older brother figure you admired. you drew a bunch of farm animals like cows and chickens on his letter, similar to kyouka's letter, even if it was barely recognizable due to your exceptional drawing abilities as a child.

kunikida was flustered, caught off guard by your sweet words of love and gratitude for him, but he was extremely proud of being the uncle figure you could look up to and rely on.

atsushi was beaming brightly as he read your valentine's day letter to him. you thanked atsushi and expressed your love for him by drawing a tiger and many hearts on his letter. he reminded you of your yuuji-nii, so you told him how grateful you were to have a yuuji-nii in this world, and not than just a gumi-nii :)

last but not least, kirako was surprised that you gave her a valentine's day letter despite not being as close to you as the others and was merely a clerk there, but she was extremely grateful that you acknowledged her presence and her caring for you alongside naomi.

the armed detective agency fell in love with your personal letters for them and couldn't help but wish you were here with them so they could personally thank you and tell you how much they love you, their little sharpest detective.

however, it wasn't just the armed detective agency that got love letters.

the port mafia was no exception.

"uwaaah! a love letter from [name]-chan, my best friend!" exclaimed an ecstatic elise as she admired the pink envelope chuuya handed her.

as amusing as it was, the port mafia truly believed they were receiving death threats from an organization when a bag of letters was mailed. they were shocked to learn that you had sent them love letters—as if they weren't already criminals. goodness, you truly were an angel sent from above.

"i've got a letter from [name]-chan, too?" koyou cupped her mouth with her kimono sleeve as chuuya handed her an envelope, blushing.

"apparently so, ane-san," said chuuya, shrugging his shoulders and casting a glance at the siblings under the black lizard who was in the office with them, "chibi also wrote letters to tachihara, hirotsu, gin, and akutagawa, even higuchi was no exception."

"my, my, isn't that sweet of her?" koyou's eyes softened and she smiled as she opened the envelope and read your letter towards to reveal your valentine's day message for her, which was you thanking her for looking after you when chuuya was busy—for being an older sister or mama-figure you could look up to and love.

as they read your letter, the akutagawa siblings remained silent, not daring to say anything. gin was blushing behind her mask. she clearly wasn't expecting your kind and sweet words. in contrast, akutagawa ryunosuke was more surprised than impressed by the revelation that he resembles your actual older brother, fushiguro megumi.

"whaaat? all of you received letters from [name]-chan?" mori inquired in a dramatic tone as looked at his subordinates, "i don't have one!"

"serves you right, rintaro!" elise laughed as she pointed at mori mockingly.

chuuya shrugged off the port mafia boss and turned your letter towards him, and it wasn't long before he began to smile in awe. you wrote him a poem, or rather tried to because some words didn't exactly rhyme, but it was very sweet—how much you looked up to him and loved him as your chuuya-nii! what really made chuuya happy was when you declared him your favorite over dazai. chuuya was going to blackmail that idiot vagabond with this.

"happy valentine's day, chibi," chuuya murmured to himself, his blue eyes softening and adoring the doodle you made of him and you, "heh, i'll make sure to give you a small bouquet of your favorite flowers and chocolates when you get here as my thanks."

[ author's notes ! happy belated valentine's day everyone. hope you enjoyed reading this, i had fun writing it even though it took me a while due to my hectic schedule lol. PLEASE i literally have midterm exams tomorrow and had to insert this fic in my schedule since it's no longer february 14 and i have to get it published soon. thank you for requesting dear anon, i hope you didn't mind me bullying mori here 😆]

[andrewlloydwebber]

this is actually the worst phantom-adjacent social media post of all time. it's not even a clever pun and they felt the need to explain it like 4 times, just in case you didn't get it. i feel bad for the social media manager to a certain extent as they have to promote a shitty product, but this is so fake deep. this is like the hamilton social media manager writing "did you know that lin manuel miranda wrote the lyric 'the ten dollar founding father' because alexander hamilton was a founding father and they put him on the ten dollar bill". it's like saying "do you know that sweeney todd is an alias for the wrongfully convicted escaped convict benjamin barker". i have eyes, i have ears, i see what you were trying to do, it's not clever at all.