#the manager walked over with some food right when we were petting her & he was like you all need to wash your hands!!!

[freesomebodybyluna]

omg so at work we always swarm at the drive thru when there's like a cute dog or something and today someone had the smallest little baby angel puppy w them so we all went over to see and the owner brought her up the window so we could pet her (which is obvi a no no rip in pieces the manager told us not to let that happen again...) and she was soooo soft and her little tail was going crazy we were cryinggg

[filthforfriends]

Chapter 5: Scared Enough

Authors Note (CW: substance abuse)

Previous chapters linked in my Masterlist

Word count: 4.6k

 The chauffeur observes you all too closely, pacing outside Dami’s dressing room. You're both waiting for him to do a final line of coke before leaving for the airport. Then he flushes everything down the toilet and scrubs out the pill case.

“Are you gonna be okay for another four hours?”

“Absolutely not. I’ll be lucky if this high lasts half an hour.”

“So what do you do on airplanes?”

“Drink and suffer.” He laughs at the face you make. “I deserve it, I did this to myself.” Dami keeps that smile plastered on, but it doesn’t reach his eyes anymore. He looks downward to hide it, awkwardly scuffing the end of his boot against the carpet. You sigh heavily, yearning for the right words, but being unable to find them.

“We have to leave now if we want a chance of making our flight.”

“Yeah.” Damiano essentially chain smokes all the way to the airport and refuses to eat, so you end up consuming half the pizza. He insists on carrying your bag while the valet checks his. On the walk to the gate, you trail behind Dami and tuck your hair under a beanie. Unfortunately sunglasses at night draw more attention, not less.

You make it with negative five minutes to spare; they’re already boarding business class. To avoid a disgruntled traveler filming the entitled rich couple cutting in line, you stand at the very back. The stewardess panics over the fact that first class passengers were the last to board. Damiano uses a bit of his magic to calm her and stop attracting curious glances.

“No complaints here, I promise.” He leans forward enough to just barely breach her personal space and lets his husky baritone take over. Dami has this ambiguous closed lip smile that's totally up to the eye of the beholder. Their interpretation reveals the victim’s motivations. This girl wants to fuck Dami, and you don’t blame her. In fact, she’s so taken that she can only manage a nod. 

Once out of earshot you murmur, “that poor girl.”

“What?” Damiano says under his breath.

“You know what.” He smirks and steps on to the plane. “Let's hope she doesn't fuck up some poor family’s travel itinerary while dickmatized.” Dami scoffs as he shoves your bag into the overhead compartment. 

“It’ll be fine,” he dismisses.

“Says the one without the screaming toddler and 15 hour layover.” This earns a chuckle and he gestures for you to take the window seat.

“Proximity to the bathroom is probably the best plan of action.”

“Stomach still upset?”

“I’m hoping that now it's the kind of upset that can be made better by food that way I can drink.’

“Charming. Maybe wait a bit?”

“Ah, but there's a method to this. You’ve got to start drinking preemptively, that way you’re already drunk when the time for alcohol consumption arrives.” You can tell by Dami’s delivery that he’s used this line at parties and it always landed well. When he sees your face, his confidence drifts away.

“While you're…away I’ll stop drinking, too. That way you have a sobriety buddy.”

“Mm, ‘buddy,’” he winces.

“Yes, ‘buddy.’ Until I’m confident you’re not gonna put your ass in a coma, again. And then some.” 

“Fair, that’s fair.” He puts his hands up in surrender. Damiano leans his head back against the seat and exhales heavily. The sound of the pilot's voice on the intercom makes him startle.

“Hey, it’s okay.” Out of habit you rub his leg, then realize that rubbing his arm is much more platonic, albeit awkward. You decide that the middle ground is petting his hair. The buzzcut is surprisingly soft under your fingers.

“Will you grow it out while you’re there?”

“Do you want me to?” He turns his head to look at you, eyebrow raised. Suddenly, making requests about his appearance has much more significance than it did a moment ago.

“Yes,” you answer timidly.

“Then I’ll grow it out.” It's the most tense airplane ride of your life. You’re trying to monitor how hard Damiano’s crashing, while realizing you have no actual experience with cocaine or withdrawals. What do you look for and how do you look for it without him noticing? One fact is abundantly clear, whether you catch his symptoms or not, there isn’t jack shit you can do about them. 

Soon after the plane has leveled out, he gets jumpy. A cough or the ding of the seatbelt light spook Dami so severely that he has to catch his breath. He starts craning  his neck, looking around at the rest of the plane. Eventually he leans all the way out into the aisle then snaps upright, gluing his back to the seat like he’d been caught doing something illegal.

“What is it?” you whisper.

“I feel like people are filming me.”

“Lets trade seats.” While switching places, you scan the plane for phones. Everyone in first class is laying down except for one woman reading an article on her computer. There's an opaque, closed curtain between first class and business class. The pattern is gaudy, mustard yellow and cobalt blue. Realistically, the only people that could film Dami were those walking up the currently empty aisle or fatigued stewardesses who would be fired for the transgression.

“No one's filming, you’re good. They’re mostly sleeping.” A bored flight attendant infers your concern and hangs a temporary privacy curtain on two small hooks. Damiano orders a mini charcuterie board and two shots of whiskey.

“They’re still filming me,” he hisses, slouching down in his chair. The plane is dark, so you search for the bright light of a camera flash and see nothing.

“Dam, I’m positive no one is filming. If they were, they couldn’t catch anything.” The flight attendant returns with his order and a payment terminal.

“Oh, and two bottles of water please.” You reach down for your purse, but Dami bats your hands away.

“I –”

“No. Do you want anything else?”

“I’m good.” He gives you a dirty look. “I ate your dinner on the drive to the airport.” Dami lets this slide and passes her his debit card. Already knowing that the beep is gonna make him jump, you take your hand in his and whisper, “gonna be a noise. Deep breath.” Dami keeps hold of your hand, even as the stewardess passes his card back, even as he puts it back in his wallet, even as he shoves his wallet into the pocket of his hoodie. Then he leans over and presses his forehead to your temple and all you can think is thank god he’ll be in a secure facility. Because nothing short of that could keep you from throwing your morals to the wind and rechristening your once shared bed.

“It was Aimee, the girl who’s roommate I started – I first did H with.”

“Thank you for telling me.”

“But I broke my promise,” his voice wavers, barely audible. “At first it was celebrating the new contract, but then I couldn’t stop. I thought I wouldn’t need any of it, once SME let up. Like I’d forced their hand and the drugs had just been a tool to get my way. I wasn’t an addict.” You push the armrest up, undo your seatbelt, and turn to hug him. “My quality of life is better, but I still needed all this shit to alter my perception so I could exist. In my mind it was strictly a causal relationship. That was fucking delusional.”

“No it wasn’t.” Damiano cries against the shoulder of your sweater and you rub his back.

“I’m so fucking scared,’ he confesses. “I thought I had control so it was like the floor disappearing out from under me. Months of rationalizations built on a lie and I was just falling and it still feels like I’m falling.”

“I’ve got you.”

“That fucking feeling is the reason I don’t go on rollercoasters and now I get to feel it all the time, how painfully ironic is that?”

“Fate has a really twisted sense of irony.”

“The world is punishing me and I deserve it.” You pull back and cup Dami’s colorless face in your hands.

“No you don’t,” you emphasize, brushing tears away with your thumbs. “Thinking you deserve pain, that's the reason it's so hard for you to quit, because you can’t bear to be alone with yourself. I love being alone with you. Dami, you are a beautiful person.” He kisses you, and really you shouldn’t have expected anything else. The responsible thing would be to pull away and gently reestablish a boundary, but you’ve been craving this so hard. Five seconds, that’s the amount of time you allow.

In those five seconds, you kiss back with equal vigor. The hands cupping Damiano’s face end up extended behind his head. With elbows out of the way, you can press your torso against his while Dami pulls you close, then closer still. His tongue has just found yours when times up. Unfortunately, you don’t have the discipline to wrench yourself away and instead pull back slowly. Damiano responds by trying to haul you into his lap, but you make a noise of dissent. There's a chaste goodbye kiss and a sexually-charged disentangling of bodies. 

“Sorry.”

“No, no, it's uh…” Not out of my system by any measurement.

“It’s just that, um –”

“Mhm”

“Sorry, what?”

“Oh, no sorry I didn’t –”

“No, you go first.”

“Saying anything.”

“What?”

“I didn’t say anything, sorry.”

“Oh..okay.”

“What were you saying?”

“What do you mean?”

“Like a second ago, you were saying something before I interrupted you.”

“Oh, I was just gonna say that…five months – well, it's almost been five months – is a lot of time.”

“Yeah, it is.”

“Yeah…since the breakup.”

“Since we last made lo – the breakup. Since we made the break up.”

“Also since we last made love,” you smirk. You hold eye contact, just like you’ve been all day, but this time there's heat behind it. Damiano’s eyes fall to your lips and he leans in again. You hold up a hand to stop him while grimacing. 

“I’m sorry, this is my fault. I’ve been giving you mixed signals, acting like we’re still in a relationship physicality-wise while saying we have to keep our distance for now. I’m just so used to comforting you through touch and I have no idea where the line is to be honest.”

“Sometimes touch is the only thing that is comforting, especially yours.”

“I’m just a physically affectionate person, like I need human contact to feel grounded.”

“I know,” he empathizes emotionally.

“So I’m not good at this,” you admit. “But I wanna be, it’s just…” you sigh while staring at the 80s patterned carpet.

“What?”

“I think if we’re physical my body will forget that we’re broken up. My mind will know, but I think I’ll still feel heartbroken if you aren’t there.”

“Baby, no,” he coos.

“I can’t go through it again and still be the support you need me to be and that I want to be. The affection…for lack of a better word, withdrawals were…rough. But I don’t want to act like strangers either. Like this,” you lace your fingers together, “should be fine, right?”

“Yeah,” Damiano murmurs, but his eyes say so much more.

“So I just have to do my best to keep it at this.” You squeeze down simultaneously, all too easily falling into rhythm with each other. “And ignore the part of my brain that tells me to crawl into your lap, take off all my clothes, and give you a bath with my tongue.” Damiano’s eyes go wide and he blinks a couple times in quick succession. 

“Sorry, that was a little graphic.”

“Actually I’m mentally bookmarking that image for tomorrow afternoon.”

“That's when things will get ugly?” 

“Oh, yeah. I’ve never detoxed from H before, but they have medication to help with that.” He’s visibly nervous and sweating. Damiano opens the shot with one hand and his teeth, then knocks it back. You set a bottle of water on his tray in response. He drinks a quarter of that, which you're feeling good about until he takes the second shot.

“Eat something or you’ll make yourself sick.”

“I know,” he retorts, annoyed. To be fair, Damiano does know a lot more about substances and how they combine than you do. As he’s eating, Dami looks at the row behind us through the crack between the seats. Finally, you recognize it as paranoia.

“I’ll check for phones again, you just keep eating.” The woman on her computer is now working on a spreadsheet and the person directly behind Damiano is watching Casablanca on his phone. Definitely not the Maneskin demographic. Beyond first class, even more passengers are dozing and there's not a single flash from a phone camera. 

“Still no one.” The guy behind us is watching a movie in black and white, so I seriously doubt he knows who you are.” 

“Fine,” Dami concedes, still on edge. He orders two more shots and you haven’t seen him consume alcohol like this since he was a teenager. Sure, he’d have four drinks at an egregiously long event, but shots of crappy whiskey in quick succession was a different behavior entirely. He unclasps his hand and excuses himself to the bathroom. It’s so casual that you can’t ascertain why. When Damiano returns, he doesn’t take your hand again, so you pretend to be on your phone.

“You okay?”

“Yeah, I’m all good.” If you weren’t broken up, you’d fling your legs over his lap and coax him to look at you. If you weren’t broken up, he’d stroke your hair and tuck it behind your ears. Then he’d massage the shell of your ear. If you weren’t broken up, you’d press your foreheads together and Dami would say everything he meant with his expression. Totally vulnerable, he’d confess his thoughts in a whisper, wrapping an arm around your waist. If you weren’t broken up, you’d know details he’d never disclose to anyone else. The emotional intimacy would throb with the beat of your heart. You’d become so accustomed to having your person, and the total vulnerability which accompanied that.  

But you were broken up, so you sat in silence. By the time the place descends, Dami is visibly uncomfortable in his own skin. He has no patience, glowering at the passengers around him. At first the lights coming on is the problem, then the ding of the seatbelt warning, then the way the pilot is descending.

“I need to be off this motherfucking plane,” he hisses. He yanks down the privacy curtain then complains how exposed first class is. You just listen to him and don’t comment. Luckily, the flight attendant allows the both of you off first. This time you carry your own bag until that pisses Dami off too and he lugs it over his shoulder with a scowl.

“I’m gonna take a piss,” he announces, when you arrive at baggage claim. You grab his hand and point to the family bathroom.

“Use that.”

“Why?” he bites. “Why can’t I use a normal fucking bathroom.” You scowl right back.

“Because I’m not a fucking idiot. Because you could ask someone for drugs, or sneak away, or refuse to get in the car. I am far too tired to deal with that shit.” He rolls his eyes, sighs loudly, and heeds your request. Five years of dealing with his mood swings had prepared you for this like none other.

The chauffeur finds you, then finds Dami’s bag, all while he’s still in the bathroom. Had he somehow gotten his hands on something? You’d been with him the whole time. After ten minutes you knock on the door.

“You alive?” He undoes the lock and you slip inside. Dami is bent over the sink with his face in his hands.

“I’m not gonna survive the drive there.” He takes a shaky breath in and sobs. “And I can’t detox from both simultaneously, so don’t fucking asking me to. I want to go home!” 

 “Damiano, in five months you have been hospitalized four times for your substance abuse. You’ve been in a coma. You’ve started taking two of the hardest drugs known to man. You’ve been one modicum of self-control away from doing crack. You’ve poisoned your body to the point that it can’t retain food or liquids. You are going to die.” He looks up in shock. “You are going to die unless you get sober and if I take you home with me, you are gonna do it in our apartment.” There's a long silence where Damiano opens and closes his mouth a couple times, then swallows hard.

“I’ve never experienced physical withdrawal symptoms like I’m about to. I’m…I’m not – I mean, I can’t.”

“You only have to do it once and this is the easiest it's ever gonna be. I know you’re brave enough.”

“You know fuck all!” he lashes out. “It’s not about bravery or some positive affirmation bullshit.”

“You’re right. I don’t understand and I know you hate me right now.”

“I don’t hate you,” he grumbles, standing upright. 

“What you’re feeling is a result of withdrawals. That doesn’t invalidate your emotions, it just means that this particular brand of shitty is very temporary.” Damiano nods and washes his face, beginning to regulate. “That also means that your perception is skewed. The world isn’t nearly as horrible as your brain chemistry is fooling you into believing.

“Okay,” he sniffs. Then he repeats himself with certainty. “Okay. I’m gonna do this. I’ll be okay.” On the walk to the car you trail behind him again, prepared to catch Damiano if he makes a run for it. Once everything is in the Sudan you relax, but Dami has his hands balled into fists as you turn out of the airport.

“Just 40 minutes” you remind him. “Less since there's no traffic right now.” 

“Partition, please,” Dami requests, creating privacy behind the tinted windows. Barely perceptible is the sound of a small motor as the driver rolls up the partition between himself and the backseat.

“You wanna lay down with your head on my lap?” He nods and undoes the seatbelt, curling his body to fit in the small space. As soon as your hand makes contact, Dami begins crying. For the first time in a long time, he allows himself to be exposed, to be truly seen. It's the part of him that used to ask for French braids. He’d never actually wear them in public, but loved the sensation. It was the part of him  that got genuinely nervous about you enjoying a family recipe. The part that could relax and receive when you fingered him with two digits.The part that lay with Princess on his bare chest because he liked the way her fur felt.

“I don’t want to be alone with myself,” Dami confesses. “I can’t remember the last time I liked that person. Fuck, I’m starting to hate my own stage persona.”

“Front men are supposed to be obnoxious to non-fans. If you were likable to the previous generation of rock listeners, you wouldn’t be rock and roll.” 

“Maybe I’m a shitty musician.”

“Someone could justify that statement about most rockstars.” 

“Every tour, every album, every new fucking setlist, I watch the power trio get more talented and I just say the same.”

“That’s objectively not true, but I know I can’t convince you of that today.”

“I should take vocal lessons.”

“That’s not a bad idea.”

“Oh, yeah? Why’s that?” Suddenly he’s abrasive.

“Because it will make you feel more productive and more confident. It could also help the longevity of your voice.”

“Oh.” He settles and allows you to stroke his head. “Why is it so quiet?” he gripes.

“Could you roll down the partition and hand me the aux, please?” Leaning over to dig your phone out of your purse also results in Dami getting a face full of your boobs. He seems to be in better spirits afterwards.

“This band is called Snowy Dunes. It’s bluesy hard rock, I think you’ll really like it.”

‘“That's not what I’ve been listening to lately, but sure.”

“Crotchety old man.” Damiano does, in fact, keep his head on your lap the whole way there. There’s two fences, the first with an attendant and the second with an intercom. The security level seems to pacify Dami.

“Just stay in the car, please. I’ll get it,” he says to the valet. You hop out as he pulls his suitcase from the trunk. It’s the very beginning of dawn, when the world is painted in a deep blue light and the birds start to chirp. The facility is just as beautiful as you expected, well manicured trees barely visible and a grand entrance with double doors. The care idles, red taillights ominously hitting the octagon cement tiles. You take Dami’s hand and walk him inside.

“And I thought the other places I’ve been to were nice,” he murmurs.

“Remember that you put yourself on the waiting list three months ago.” He chuckles, before speaking on another intercom.Theres a clicking sound and the left door opens automatically.

“Hey there, we only keep this entrance locked at night,” is the first thing a staff member says. “Are you Damiano?”

“Uh, yeah.” He looks at you, almost overwhelmed with the urge to run.

“I’m y/n, I spoke with you earlier.” You drag him inside and use your free hand to greet someone in a white uniform.

“A little apprehension is normal. Or a lot.”

“Where’s your bathroom?” he asks curtly. 

“Right through here,” responds who you now assume to be an orderly. He leads Dami around a corner and follows him inside.

“Hi there, would you mind if I ask you a couple questions?” A newly appeared nurse seats herself behind a counter on the other side of the hall. The lights were almost as low inside as they were outside.

“Oh, uh yeah! Sorry, I didn’t see you there. And uh, he doesn’t have anything on him. We just traveled through two of the biggest airports in Europe. His stomach has just been upset from y’know…”

“Right, of course,” she responds with genuine sympathy. Now you feel better about leaving him here. “I’ll say goodbye and get out of your hair as soon as he’s back.”

“What's your relationship to Damiano?”

“Well, I was his girlfriend for five and a half years.”

“Woah, five years is a lot in your early twenties.”

“Yeah…but we broke up, because of the…addiction issues. Plus the fame makes things…it makes them complicated.” What you really meant is that global popularity is so intrusive that vital aspects of a relationship go unattended because there's simply no room. She nods like this is something they see daily.

“Do you know what he’s taken in the past 24 hours?”

“Cocaine, uh alcohol, and maybe heroin, I don’t know. He smokes weed and rolled tobacco, plus normal cigarettes.” There's not an ounce of surprise or judgment. She enters the information into the computer like it's the weather report.

“Crack cocaine?”

“No.”

“Okay.” The clicks of the laptop seem loud, but maybe that's because the world around you is so silent.

“He only started using heroin regularly three weeks ago. I don’t know if that matters.” You feel defensive of Dami, then like an dumbass because you were standing in rehab for fuck’s sake. Anxious, you look over your shoulder.

“Do you know when the last time he used heroin was?”

“No.”

“Do you know how he’s ingesting it?”

“No.”

“And do you know what type of heroin he’s using?”

“Um, no. Sorry.”

“No need to apologize,” she reassures. “We’re just happy to have a little extra information if you’re able to provide it. Do you know when he last ingested cocaine?”

“Four hours ago.”

“Alright. Do you have payment information? It looks like his intake fee has already been paid.”

“Yeah, that was me.” While you were dating, Damiano paid rent and you paid utilities. It was far from equatable, but you made a lot less and he insisted. Post breakup, you found out that a spacious apartment in Rome with private parking was even more exorbitantly priced than he’d led you to believe. So you’d called your landlord to clarify a move out date and were informed that in addition to taking himself off the lease as agreed, he’d paid out the two year contract in its entirety. If you were to move out, the remainder of the money would be yours. 

Subsequently, you decided to stay in that absolutely gorgeous apartment, right up until you needed the money for something. After thoroughly guilt tripping your landlord, he gave you half of the remaining lease payment, which you used for application fees and to eventually secure a spot at rehab for Dami. It was, after all, a totally ridiculous amount for him to essentially give you, with no way of rejecting or returning it.

“I’m not sure if his label is gonna pay directly or reimburse him or what.”

“Alright, so I’ll just collect that information later.” She looks up from her computer screen. “The important thing is that you got him here.” You bite the inside of your lip to suppress the urge to cry. No doubt you were gonna end up lying in a pool of your own tears and snot later today, but if you started now saying goodbye would be very ugly.

“How much pain is he gonna be in?” Before she can answer, there's two sets of footsteps behind you.

“No windows?”

“Not ones that I could reach.”

“If you were the proper height for a basketball player…”

“Oh, shut up,” he jokes (mostly). “So which one of you is gonna tear apart all my belongings like a racoon in a dumpster?”

“Damiano!” You’re laughing too hard to reprimand him, as are the two staff members.

“They’re gonna throw out my 70€ shampoo!”

“You don’t have hair!”

“That’s true,” he smiles, rubbing his buzz cut. This was so like him, rallying at the end so you could leave in good spirits. He was trying to spare you some anguish. It also meant he’d decided to commit.

“We actually have storage lockers for this very reason. Once we feel confident, you can have your shampoo back,” reassures the nurse. “Do you have a form of ID you can show me?”

“Uh, yeah.” His voice wavers ever so slightly. Next he signs a release to provide treatment.

“Looks like you’re all checked in,” she announces in a cheery voice. It's your cue to leave. Both staff members find a reason to look away so you have a moment of semi-privacy. It becomes apparent that your tears won’t wait for a more convenient moment. So you hug him to give yourself a tiny bit of grace to wrangle your emotions. 

“Are you crying?”

“Yes.” The hug isn’t platonic at all, with your arms thrown around his neck and his dangerously low on your back. Body to body, standing with your feet between Dami’s, any closeness that can be acceptably achieved in public has been.

“I’m so angry with the world that you have to deal with this and I’m –” You take a steadying deep breath. “I’m so fucking proud of you and for facing it an – and grateful.”

“Even though it scares me shitless?”

“Especially because it scares you shitless.”

“I love you.” He whispers it right in your ear and kisses your temple

“I love you, too,” you hiccup.

“Give Princess a kiss for me.” He pulls away, takes a step back, then another, and he’s gone without ever meeting your eyes. Seeing as they have actual patients to care for, you drag yourself back to the SUV. Then you cry so hard that the chauffeur stops at his brother’s gelato shop on the way home. 

Notes: Well if it isn't some more nice, light reading from your gal FilthforFriends!

@surelyfreedombound @shinshans @lonnybunnys @davianos-blog @hauntedpostpersona @lizzylynch1 @kammerstx @harryssshouseee @slavicgoddess13 @persona1read1ng @katyldamusic @whore4damia @the-chaotic-cow @icarodamiano @gr8rainbowpunk @elvirabelle @bright-shiningstar @maneslut @stardustingold @little-moonbeam-666 @que--sera--sera @ami--gami

[beautifulfuckup99]

Do you think you can do anything with Jimin please? Just a cute fluff story 🫶🏼

-<3

Coming right up!

Title: Our Baby...

Warning(s): Cute fluff...

Author's Note: This is a "Non-Idol!AU". Hope you enjoy!

***********************************

With a tense posture, Y/N entered the loft apartment she has shared with her boyfriend of three years. Looking around, she realized he's still sleeping, a holy realization, honestly. With a soft grunt, she lifts the bundle in her arms more, and shuts the front door with her foot. The silence is disturbed when thunder clashes outside, making Y/N wince.

What started off as a random trip to the grocery store, ended in a full-blown rescue mission. "Okay. Stay here, I'm gonna see what we have for food..." Y/N mutters, clueless as to what this soaking wet animal in her arms will consume. She sits him down on the rug and smiles at him before rushing off to the kitchen in hopes of finding something of convenience.

"What the hell do Pit Bulls eat?" She mutters to herself as she examines the cabinets and the cans stacked inside of them. "Huh. What do you..." She stops her question when she turns to see the full-grown dog isn't on the living room carpet anymore. "Crap!" Y/N gasps as she sees the bedroom door was open now. Probably due to the animal using its head to push open the door.

Y/N rushes to the bedroom and sees the massive Pit Bull weakly moving to get on the bed that her boyfriend was sleeping in peacefully. She holds in a breath as the dog moves to lay on top of Jimin, causing the snores to swiftly stop.

"Mm... Babe... Stop, you're all wet..." Jimin mumbles in his sleepy state of mind and Y/N walks over to the other side of the bed as the Pit Bull softly sniffs the cork of Jimin's neck, making the 27-year-old man smirk, eyes still closed. "Baby... Stop. I'm too tired..." He mumbles with a playful smile as if trying to play hard to get.

Y/N covers her mouth as to not laugh as the dog licks the side of Jimin's face, making him finally scrunch his nose. "Baby, did you brush your tee..." Jimin stops when he opens his eyes and comes face to face with his smiling girlfriend. He's confused for only a second before his body stiffens and he turns his head to see the dog over him.

"Shit!" He gasps and the loud noise makes the dog jump back too. Y/N giggles as she stands up and walks over to turn on the bedroom light. She then hops on the end of the bed.

"Isn't he cute?!" She smiles as she opens her arms for the dog. He quickly moves into her grasp, licking at her face and moving to be on her lap, obviously not knowing his size.

"Honey?" Jimin asks as calmly as he can manage. "This morning when you told me you were going to the store, I thought you'd come back with groceries. Not a whole dog!" He exclaims and Y/N giggles sheepishly.

"I know! I know, it's crazy." She sighs as her hands rub up and down the wet fur of the dog. "But baby, the poor dog was just alone in the alleyway by the supermarket. Getting rained on and being ignored!" She defends.

"But it could have an owner, Y/N..." Jimin says, hand moving up to wipe his cheek of the dog drool.

"A bad owner." Y/N corrects. "And that's a big 'could'." She states defensively. "Also, don't say 'it'. He's a boy." She adds with a nod of certainty. Jimin sighs heavily as he eyes the big dog now slouched on Y/N's lap.

"He's cute. I'll give you that. But, baby, there's a reason we don't have pets. We're so busy, we can't even keep a plant alive!" He says and Y/N waves a hand at that, as if brushing away the concerns.

"He's a baby. And he needs a home, Jimin. Now, I'm gonna give him a bath, and get him some food. Can you please look up vets near us so he can get checked out?" She asks hopefully, pouting a bit to soften her hesitant boyfriend up. Jimin eyes her, his hesitation slowly fading like she knew it would.

"I can't talk you out of this, can I?" He mutters and Y/N smiles brightly at him. He hums. "Fine. Fine, we'll get him settled. But I'm also printing out posters of him. In case an owner is looking for him." He warns as he eyes his excited girlfriend wirily, knowing she'll get attached either way.

"Fair!" Y/N states, not thinking anything of the warning. "Let's go, baby. Daddy says you can stay!" She coos to the dog as he licks her face.

"Y/N! No getting attached. We're just... Landlords to him." Jimin reminds her and Y/N mocks him under her breath.

"Daddy's grumpy..." She giggles to the dog and gets off the bed with him. Jimin breathes deeply, knowing this won't end well.

*******************************************

"Ok! I think this looks comfy enough." Jimin nods as he eyes the pile of old pillows he'd tossed on the floor for the dog.

The entire day had been a bit of a headache. Searching for vets, giving him a bath, trying to give him something to eat. This dog was a bit of a handful. And Jimin didn't wanna say it out loud, but it felt like the dog had it out for him.

Maybe he was going crazy, but that dog...

During his bath, the dog gave a hard time staying still until Y/N distracted him by giving him Jimin's loofah to play with, and after Y/N was done, the dog went jumping out of the bath and pounced on Jimin's lap, wetting him and his laptop.

During lunch time, the dog refused anything Y/N tried serving, and instead, went after Jimin's sandwich.

The first one, Jimin just let go, but when he made himself another one? The dog was right there, waiting for it. And the third sandwich Jimin made for himself? That was a fight. Until Y/N told him to just let it go and that she'd make his favorite for dinner tonight.

But even that was also stolen by the Pit Bull the moment Jimin got up to grab something from the kitchen. And now? Now, it was bedtime, and Jimin was promised some snuggles from Y/N for being such a good and patient boyfriend.

"Alright! Bed is all set for-" Jimin is cut off by Y/N.

"Shh! He's sleeping!" She says as she shows the big dog laying comfortably on Jimin's side of the bed.

"Babe! That's my pillow..." He scrunches his nose as Y/N strokes the dog gently.

"He's all comfy. Don't make him move." She pouts at her boyfriend. He sighs deeply and runs his fingers through his messy hair.

"And where do I sleep?!" He asks. Y/N hums and moves a bit, so she was somewhat in the middle of the bed. Jimin grumbles as he walks over to the bed to be in his girlfriend's arms.

"Thank you for being so good today..." Y/N giggles softly and pecks his cheek as he softens a bit at the affection.

"Yeah, yeah..." Jimin mutters It wouldn't be long now before the owner contacted Jimin. He knew this. Just had to adjust for a day or two.

********************************************

That 'day or two' quickly turned into days and then it turned into weeks, and still, there was no phone call to Jimin about the dog that Y/N had now lovingly dubbed as 'Ace'. Jimin had even begun getting used to all his food getting stolen and his pillow being claimed by drool every night from the big Pit Bull. The dog made Y/N happy and honestly, raising this dog was bringing the couple closer together.

The long walks in the evenings, the nights being squished together because Ace took up half the bed with all his moving around, the days spent at the dog park just running around and playing with the energetic dog. It was nice. Until one evening, that is.

Jimin was working on his laptop, enjoying the background noise of Y/N squealing every time Ace wet her while getting a bath. He'd dove straight into a mud puddle during their evening walk earlier, and Jimin had won their rock, paper, scissors game, so Ace was YN's problem.

He's pulled out of his amusement by his phone ringing with a number that isn't saved in his phone. He picks it up in confusion. "Yes?” He asks.

“Uh… Hi, is this Jim?” A male voice questions and Jimin rolls his eyes.

“Jimin.” He corrects. “And, speaking.” He confirms.

“Right. My bad. Uh... I saw a poster with your number on it…” The guy begins and Jimin stiffens.

Don’t say it…

Don’t say it…

Don’t…

“I think you found my dog…” the guy confirms and Jimin feels his heart drop…

Shit.

***************************************

"Are you sure we can't pay him for Ace?" Y/N whispers to her boyfriend only to be silenced with a look as the young college looking kid walked up to the couple.

"Cooper! Hey big boy!" Mason greets happily as the Pit Bull runs over to his original owner, much to Y/N's dismay.

"What kind of name is Cooper?" Y/N mutters quietly and Jimin sighs, rubbing his girlfriend's back as a way to keep her calm.

"I've spent weeks looking for him everywhere. He broke off his leash when my girlfriend was trying to walk him, went running after a car. I can't believe you found him..." Mason rambles fast as he fixes the hoodie on his head more while the Pit Bull basically climbs his 6-foot frame.

Jimin blinks a bit, trying to keep up with the fast talker. "How much was the dog food and other supplies; I can pay you back..." Mason offers and Jimin shakes his head fast.

"No, please. It was our pleasure. We're just glad you got your dog back..." Jimin says and nudges a pouting Y/N.

"Yeah... Sure are glad." Y/N mutters and moves to pet the dog once more. Mason smiles more and then fixes a leash on to 'Cooper', waving bye and walking off back to his pick-up truck that was parked out front Jimin and Y/N's apartment building.

"Y/N? You okay? Wanna get something to-" Y/N cuts Jimin off, a frown deepening as she watches the truck drive away.

"I'm tired. I just wanna go to sleep..." She whispers as she moves away from Jimin, only stopping at the building entrance to give a teary-eyed expression to her boyfriend.

"You were right. I shouldn't have gotten attached..." She mumbles and walks off back upstairs. Jimin frowns now, feeling more upset than before...

**********************************

With a tense posture, Jimin entered the loft apartment he has shared with his girlfriend of three years. Looking around, he realized she's still in the bedroom. Probably sulking, honestly. With a soft grunt, Jimin lifts the bundle in his arms more, and shuts the front door with his foot. The silence is disturbed when thunder clashes outside, making Jimin wince. Damn thunderstorm...

Y/N is under the sheets in the bedroom when Jimin walks in. "Baby?" He asks.

"Do. Not. Disturb." Y/N mutters quietly from under the sheets, causing Jimin to sigh.

"Y/N, you can't hide in there all day." He tries and she snorts humorlessly.

"Just watch me. I have nothing anymore." She sniffles and Jimin face palms at his girlfriend's dramatics.

"That's not true! You have me..." Jimin sings happily.

"Oh? Are you gonna be my new Ace?" Y/N challenges bitterly, causing Jimin to laugh softly.

"No..." He says slowly. "But he can be!" He states and Y/N pauses in confusion, slowly peaking her head out and seeing a grey-furred, Pit Bull, puppy in Jimin's arms. She gasps and sits up fast.

"Baby!" She squeals as the puppy wags its tail excitedly. "Where did you find this one?!" She asks as she instantly grabs the Pit from Jimin's arms.

"Wasn't easy. I had to search around a little bit, but... I finally found a shop. The store has him under the name 'Bryce'." Jimin says and Y/N coos at the puppy softly as he licks her.

"Oh, We'll be changing that." Y/N giggles at the dog, kissing all over his soft face. Jimin chuckles and gently touches Y/N's shoulder blade.

"Now, honey." Jimin begins as Y/N looks up at him. "He's a baby. And he needs a home." He says, causing Y/N to giggle as she realizes he's using her words on her. "I'm gonna give him a bath and get him some food. Can you please look up vets near us so he can get checked out?" He asks hopefully, pouting a bit to mock Y/N's puppy dog look. Y/N laughs and jokingly eyes Jimin.

"Well... If you insist!" She mutters playfully and smiles brightly at him. "And this time, no owners." She states.

"Yes. You can get as attached as you want." Jimin nods and Y/N moves to hug him and then peck his lips sweetly. She then pulls away and goes back to nuzzling the dog.

"Isn't daddy the best!?" She giggles to the dog as he licks her face. Jimin smiles softly at the sight in front of him. "And don't worry. We'll never even think about naming you Cooper." She says to the dog and Jimin face palms.

"Baby. Let it go." He mutters as he shakes his head.

**********************************************

Sorry to all the 'Cooper's of the world... Lol. Hope you enjoyed!

[silverynight]

The chaperone

Zenitsu shouldn't have agreed to this. He's not sure why he's there because it's pretty much clear those nine students only want Tanjirou to be there. But Tanjirou invited Zenitsu and Inosuke to movie night at Rengoku's house (that honestly looks like a mansion) and there they are.

He rolls his eyes as soon as he notices that they're silently arguing with each other about who is going to get Tanjirou sitting on their lap.

Zenitsu has lost count of the amount of times he's rolled his eyes, at least Inosuke is particularly calm that day, well, maybe it's because he's too busy still eating food in Rengoku's kitchen.

It seems whatever they did to decide, Himejima ends up like the winner and quietly asks Tanjirou to sit on his lap; they have done this before so Tanjirou just smiles and nods (the first time he got really flustered, but somehow convinced himself it was a friendly thing and now doesn't even question it).

Tanjirou moves carefully, not noticing the slight blush on Himejima's face or the way the tall boy immediately relaxes as soon as he feels Tanjirou's head against his broad chest.

They have another silent argument before Tokito and Kanroji get to sit at each side of Himejima (just to be close to Tanjirou).

When the others start pouting, Zenitsu has to stop himself from rolling his eyes again and instead turning his head towards the TV to watch the movie.

It's not easy to focus; Rengoku has walked towards the kitchen at some point to bring all kinds of food for Tanjirou, even though the boy has assured him he's not actually hungry. Kanroji is trying to feed him while Iguro is promising Tanjirou he can pet and carry Kaburamaru for a while if he sits next to him instead.

After a couple of insufferable minutes, they finally shut up. Zenitsu relaxes and even starts enjoying the movie and Tanjirou's cute laugh when Kocho suddenly points out, sounding really amused, that Shinazugawa is not paying attention to the movie at all.

Zenitsu knows he's going to regret it, but he turns his head anyway and realizes that Shinazugawa is growling at the girl, cheeks slightly pink because he was caught staring at Tanjirou instead. The thing is... They all are doing exactly the same.

Tomioka whispers something as he manages to move Tokito away to get closer to Tanjirou and take his hand; Zenitsu it's not sure what he's saying but it makes Tanjirou laugh again.

"Tanjirou! My girlfriends and I would love to take you out to lunch tomorrow!" Uzui suddenly says; Zenitsu has noticed that they all are getting desperate to have Tanjirou's attention.

"That sounds great!" Tanjirou says, having no idea that it sounds suspiciously like a date.

"We all are going then!" Rengoku says immediately, prompting Zenitsu to roll his eyes as Himejima pulls Tanjirou closer to him.

Why are they like this?

Suddenly, with a piece of muffin in his hand, Inosuke finally rises from the ground.

"It's getting late, Monjiro!"

Much to everyone's displeasure, Tanjirou jumps off Himejima's lap and walks towards the boy with the boar head.

"You're right, it's time to go! Come on, Zenitsu!"

"But it's movie night!" Kanroji pouts. "I thought we were going to stay the night here!"

Zenitsu is so glad they aren't, honestly, he can already imagine the fights over who gets to cuddle Tanjirou.

"Monjiro's Mom wants him to go back home early!" Inosuke says before anyone can utter a word, he puffs his chest out and hits it with his fist like he's really proud of himself before adding: "She told me to make sure of it!"

"Thank you, Inosuke!" Tanjirou says sincerely before taking the hand the boy's offering him. "Thanks for having us! We'll see you at school!"

Trying to hide his satisfaction, Zenitsu follows Tanjirou and Inosuke, after looking at the very disappointed older students. They're worried too because they have probably realized, just as Zenitsu did, that Tanjirou's mother is pretty much aware of their feelings towards her oldest son and she's not going to make it easy for them.

Zenitsu tries not to grin, but it's almost inevitable.

***

Patreon

[captainpains]

Baby Lothcats (Hardcase x reader)

I'm still going! I think this is the most I've ever posted! For the @clonexreaderbingo. Enjoy this trash for Hardcase ❤️

Prompt: Animal

Warnings: gn reader, intoxication mentioned, animals (injured animals), Def more platonic but kinda like realizing you have a crush,

~~~~~~~~~~~

Your tiny tattoo shop was located right next to the clone bar.

Meaning you got a lot of drunk clientele. 

Obviously, you would turn away those that were too drunk to really be lucid. However, 

You were willing to do tats for the republic's finest, even the more tipsy of them. It was really funny to watch the shinies stumble in and ask for ridiculous tattoos, the start of their individuality. Your favorite ones to do were the meaningful ones, to honor fallen brothers or important moments. You were happy to do it for them…

“Hey! We are closed!” You heard Quint, the only other person in the shop, yell towards the door.

“I need to talk to Tats!” An excited voice that you know well called from the front door.

You put down your stylus, this design could wait until tomorrow, as you stood up to see what the commotion was in the front room. When you entered, you saw Hardcase, a client that slowly became one of your closest friends. He was excitedly standing there, holding a box in his arms.

“Why don’t you headout for the night. I can lock up alone.” You suggested.

The other artist begrudgingly agreed to leave, with a look of discontent shot towards Hardcase as they left the room. 

“Alright, Casey, what is so import-” 

A soft meow came from the box. Then another. Then another. Until a chorus of meows flowed from the box.

“I found ‘em on the way over here. Poor things were just left out there.”

You looked into the box to find three small Lothkittins inside. The little guys had matted fur and were far too skinny to be healthy. All three of them looked up at you with large eyes.

“Oh, the poor things,” you said, reaching your hand into the box. You gently patted one of their heads.

“What do ya think we should do with ‘em?” Hardcase asked.

“Well, we should start by taking them to a vet. There is an emergency animal hospital on the way back to my apartment.”

“Alright! Lead the way Tats.”

—--------

“Okay, it looks like all three of the Lothkittens are in good health.” The vet said. “It’s a very good thing you brought them here, disease is rampant and who knows what these little guys would’ve caught.”

“Thank you so much,” you said to her as she handed you a carrier that held the kittens.

“All is good. Remember to only feed them soft foods for now, kibble is too hard for kittens so young.”

“Got it. Thanks again, doc,” Hardcase waved as you both left.

You walked in silence towards your apartment for a few minutes. It was a nice bonding experience with your friend. Although looking at Hardcase, you felt some sort of admiration in your chest and not the kind you felt around friends. He was a friend that always knew how to cheer you up, and he was very kind. And, had he always looked this handsome? The lights of the street were bright and highlighted Hardcase’s jawline and made his tattoos glow almost.

“So, what are we gonna do with them?” Hardcase asked. “I mean there is no way you could keep all three of them.” 

“No, I’ll probably just keep one. But we can worry about that later. For now, we should just find something to feed these little guys.” You replied.

You made it back to your apartment and managed to find something that the kittens could eat. Hardcase happily played with them while you set up an area for them to sleep and play safely. He was petting them and let one crawl across his back. He was laughing as the little one bapped his head. It was an undeniably sweet moment. You laughed a little as the kitten hopped onto his head. It was so cute. 

You could see yourself getting used to it.

[il-y-a-trop-des-regles]

tw 3d rant:

im actually going to drop k1ck my head of year WHAT DO YOU MEAN YOURE EMAILING ALL MY TEACHERS TO GET THEM TO KEEP AN EYE ON ME? WHAT THE ACTUAL F-

basically, I have low BP, like it's a genetic condition I've had my whole entire life and im a very easy fainter. one of my teachers was concerned that I'm lately alot more dizzy lately than usual, and that I can't walk straight, etc (amazing teacher, love her). She tried to apply for me to get a medical class exit card, which basically means no teacher can deny me from leaving the classroom, it's kinda like a get out of jail free card.

anyways, 2 weeks after this, ive already accepted that im not getting my get out of jail free card, I get called in by my head of year and she is trying to find the 'root of my problem' because 'there must be a reason it's getting worse, because it doesn't make sense otherwise' YOU ARE A TEACHER, NOT A DOCTOR DUDE 😭. anyways, she started asking me if I 3at, my stomach DROPPED, but ofc I said yes because I do not plan of r3c0v3ry anytime soon (I'm pro r3c0v3ry don't get me wrong, but I genuinely just can't right now), and then she asked me wieiad and told me to give her a whole run down, and when I got to lunch she said to me 'I can check your canteen balance and I'll call your mum after this conversation' so I couldn't say I ate something from home, or say I got food from the canteen. LUCKILY, I managed to think something up, and said I was really preoccupied running a club (which I actually was) that I completely forgot about lunch, and I said I know it sounds bad but its not often that I do forget. and she said 'I just don't believe you' SORRY DUDE WHAT? and then she starts grilling me about my eating habits like please GIVE IT A REST.

long story short, she's emailing ALL of my teachers to keep an eye on me and report back to her if anything happens with me, which is really sad. oh and I have to do weekly wellbeing checkups.

I don't get what they're trying to achieve with this, I mean I guess it makes me feel slightly more valid in my d1s0rd3r that people are accusing me of it, but that's it.

main problem, I'm not a teachers pet by any means, but I am relatively close with some of my teachers and I JUST KNOW that they will bring it up or keep me after class (for context, I was m0l3sted by a teacher at my skl, but no one ever found out because he was the vice headteacher and if i were to report the situation, i would have to go to him, and that would not be successful whatsoever, and he would always make weird excuses to keep me after class and he'd t0uch my hair, grab the back of my neck, put his hands down the back of my shirt, etc, and so I have a crazy fear of staying after class 😭) and now I'm scared that im going to be kept for so many after class talks (and 3/5 of the teachers I'm close with are male) and I don't want them to figure out that I went through something.

SPECIFICALLY MY PSYCHOLOGY TEACHER BC I SWEAR HE IS SO ATTENTIVE TO DETAIL, he spent the first 6 months that he taught me just keeping me after class to ask me about my mental health, but then he'd just end up talking about how much he hated his ex gf and I found it super odd that he would only talk to me about her (keep in mind he was a new teacher at the time, and he did this from like the second week that id known him), but over time he became slightly more normal (on the very first lesson, he did come up to me and said that he could already make a really good judge of my character because of my pencil case 🤨 which was odd - so it's just at the beginning of his teaching, but he always sits me at the front so we are semi close, but GRRR I HATE MY HEAD OF HOUSE

Ps: sorry this 3d rant kinda became a 'my school is filled with strange teavhers talk 😭

[canyouhearthelight]

Nihilus Rex, Ch. 44: Record "Straight"

Lash and Nils talk in private. Schemes abound, both together and separately.

Co-written by @baelpenrose

Lash

I managed to quell the urge to pick up food on my way to the mall. Fewer distractions, better adherence to the timeline I’d given Nils. As a nervous eater, I felt like it was a pretty sound decision.  After all, if anything, we could get food later. Whatever.

As I walked into the mall, I saw Nils reclining on a bean bag, managing to look for all the world like he was holding court for the bugs in the mall. “Lash. What the hell were you talking about? He’s a gun nut, sure, what kind of black market connections does he have that you’re calling him an arms dealer?” 

“I…” My immediate reaction was to just tell him, but recent interactions with both Nils and Grey had made it clear that I needed to think before speaking my mind. “I thought I saw some posts online about gun stuff, but on the way over I realized they were too obvious. I’m sorry,” I finished lamely, trying to buy for time but also realizing I’d probably undermined myself later.

“All that over…” Nils raked his hands through his jet-black hair. I’d never realized before, but having actually looked at his mother and his father, whose hair had obviously been coal black before it had started going gray. Nils was almost certainly dyeing it. Blue-black just wasn’t in his genes, no matter how distracting it was at the moment. “All that was over a misunderstanding?? All that, in public, over a misunderstanding? When you know we’re being watched by the Fibbies because of the things we did at the hospital and the shit that happened last time one of us lost her cool.”

“Oh, one of ‘us’,” I bunny eared it for emphasis, “lost ‘her’ cool. Just say it. When I lost my cool. Because gods forfend anything that happens to us happens because you jump a gun, get impulsive, or do shady shit behind my back.” My hand went to my forehead, rubbing against the tension.  “I know. We’ve both done stupid shit. You get impulsive, people die. I get impulsive, we die or get arrested. I’m working on it, but dealing with people, on this scale, in person, is a lot. You have to understand that, right?”

There was a terrifying moment where he stared at me, face inscrutable, and I was terrified he’d lie to me and answer, ‘no.’ Then, the even more terrifying thought occurred that he’d say ‘no,’ and be telling the truth. Instead, the mask slipped and he shuddered. “Yeah. It’s a lot. But holy fuck, Lash, what is this about Gray being my dog? He’s a nightmare I thought we agreed about as the necessary evil we had to keep an eye on, use and deal with because we weren’t going to be able to get another thing like him we could control half as well. When did he become ‘my’ pet psycho?” 

When you agreed to be the figurehead of this shitshow, I wanted to say. I squashed that down and thought through my second line of thinking before deciding it was the correct course. “Getting rid of Weasel has been difficult enough. Do you really think Gray is something we discard at our earliest convenience? He’s both more essential and smarter than the Smut King of Cali.”

“And better disciplined, and less sexually revolting. Which is fortunate, because he’d be Ted Bundy but worse. As to convenient - fuck no, nothing about that is going to be convenient. It already isn’t. But as you point out, he is, unfortunately, more essential than Weasel. But yes, we are going to have to actually work hard to figure out exactly how that fucker gets disposed of. It’s gonna…take a lot.” Nils sounded tired. “I’ve missed talking to you more openly about…all this crap. I know it’s only been a few days.” 

I took a deep breath, thinking, before responding honestly. “Yeah, talking in code for the last several days… week? Weeks? Whatever. Has been frustrating.” Damn my body to hell, but I was going to kill someone for a cuddle if needed. “No sex, but… Can I crash on your couch with some cuddles tonight? Just the thought of….. Everything, plus knowing we’ll eventually have to add a strategy for Gray is a lot, I won’t lie.  I really just want a night of garbage telly, worse food, cuddles, and sleep.”

Nils looked at me. “Yes. God, yes. Sex was…not on my mind, right now.” I had all too good a feeling that meant he’d been running his body to the brink and was crashing too hard to be horny. “But cuddles sound amazing. Pizza?”

“UGH, can we please do bacon, feta, and spinach? I know it sounds weird, but on thin crust? MWAH!” I made a gesture like a kiss to emphasize my point. Salty, savory, everything.

“I will give anything a shot once.” 

That same, faraway-laughing smile was back, and I felt like maybe I’d mended some rift, like Nils and I were back on some sort of the right track. 

“You’ll love it, I swear.” I resisted the urge to reach out and pet his chest like I usually did when I reassured him. “Do you have a t-shirt I can sleep in, or do I need to go home and get one?”

He swallowed loudly. “I have a couple. Let me put in the order now before we head to my apartment… You’re okay with two smalls, in case I don’t like your salt bomb concoction?”

I snorted. “You like anchovies as much as I do, this is practically sweet compared to that. Go for it with two smalls, but plan the second to be good for breakfast.”

“Sausage and mushroom it is,” he nodded. “Black t-shirts - nevermind, yes, you’re fine with - why?”

Why do I feel like this is the first time you slept over? I inferred. “We’ll figure that out later. Right now, I need a ride to yours, the pizzas that are on the way, a plush couch, and comfy clothes.”

“You don’t have pajamas….”

“Your problem, your couch’s problem, not mine.”

“Woman, you are going to be the death of me.”

I hummed. “What a sweet way to go, no?”

“I can definitely think of a lot worse and very few better.” He admitted.

***

“Why do people agree to this?” Nils muttered into my hair as we watched some reality show over the empty pizza box on the coffee table.

“To feel important,” I answered, rubbing my face against the arm I was laying on.

“But they aren’t.”

I rolled part way onto my back and looked at him before sitting up. “They are and they aren’t.” Snagging the remote, I muted the show. “People want distraction from the shitty things going on in the world. This kind of thing provides that distraction and feeds their nosy natures at the same time. So are these people important in the grand scheme of things? Probably not. But they’re very culturally relevant and give us cover, believe it or not.”

“How do the Real Housewives of Who Cares give us cover?”

“Like it or not, the more people who watch them catfight and backstab, the fewer people are paying attention to world events.  Meaning you and me.  I mean, how many people do you know that actively avoid watching the news?”

Nils looked thoughtful before digging himself out of the gap between the cushions and the back of the couch. “Everyone. Or nearly everyone. At least sometimes.”

I nodded, hair falling in my face. “We were just doing it. Mocking them for an hour so we can disconnect from trying to save the world. Imagine how many people just live like that.”

I could see his brain start whirring, reconnecting so to speak. “We can use that,” he murmured. “Do data attacks during major spectator events.”

My eyes widened. He was right. “Can you imagine if we did a major move during the World Cup?” I whispered, throat tightening. “Most of the world watches that, whether their team is in it or not.”

He surged to his feet, dumping me gently to the floor in the process. Bolting to his bedroom, he called over his shoulder. “We need to find other events we can leverage. That’s how we go international.”

“And our FBI agent and Weasel? What do we do about them? International means scrutiny.” I scrambled back onto the couch, carefully tucking myself into ‘my’ corner and covering my lap with the blanket. I wasn’t naked, but still. Bare legs and all. Once Nils had returned with his computer and having donned pajama pants, I continued. “Going international with a Fibbie keeping tabs on us sounds like a monumentally dumb idea, I’m just throwing that out there.”

“Way ahead of you. The noose is already tied on Weasel. We’re waiting for the Fibbie to look at him. He’ll panic and do himself when it happens. FBI finds icebreakers that match the bank job, declare victory in our time, and go home. Remember the anthrax attacks back in 04?” Despite weaponized anthrax, at the time, being a carefully guarded Russian bio weapon the US hadn’t cracked til two years later, a researcher with massive personality problems and Middle Eastern descent had been blamed for the crime - and because of a fortunately timed suicide, the FBI had been free to dig no deeper. 

“Nils, what did you do?” I asked slowly.  I was missing something. 

             “Dug into Weasel’s files with a bit of social engineering and phishing. Found out he’s got some illegal material. Flagged it in a way that’ll draw some law enforcement attention so it looks like a standard download alert with a retroactive time stamp - should make them even more antsy to shut him down before anyone looks too close. After all. They’ve had a lead on the perv for how long and just ignored it?” He let that trail, rhetorically. 

“So…. he’s going down for stuff he actually did,” I confirmed.

Nils nodded, still looking up what was presumably world events that would attract attention and distract from anything we did. “Didn’t have to frame him for anything, just attract attention.” Pausing, he shuddered. “Although hours of digging through his porn…. Let’s just say that between that and sleep deprivation, I don’t think even Viagra and your best efforts could get me ready for sex.  Not for the next several days, minimum.”

I mirrored his shudder. “I can imagine. Ew.  Thanks for taking one for the team.”

He held a hand up quickly. “Nope. Don’t say that. Not even accidental innuendos for the next week. I may actually be sick.”

[dragoon811]

I have had a shitty week. Can someone manifest me some good vibes?

Sunday started nice. Monday was a holiday (Family Day) so I got some extra weekend. I was looking forward to it - then Elder Child crawled into my bed just past midnight with a fever.

Monday she stopped eating after lunch (two bites of banana), but was drinking water.

Stayed home Tuesday to help her combat the fever. Wednesday morning she had no fever so my daycare lady was able to take her and I went to work. She kept me updated etc all day.

My gut didn’t like how much she was sleeping so after work I decided to take Elder Child to the children’s hospital. Convinced my husband to pack me a bag, thinking they’d throw Tylenol at us and we’d sit in the waiting room for 8 hours to be told it’s an ear infection/sinus infection…. But I got home to her and her fever returned. (And my period started. JOY.)

Loaded her into the stroller, threw myself in, and off we went! Waited in line at triage.

Triage called us, we weighed her, we talked. And I said I was concerned because she hadn’t eaten, the fever was back, my sister was diabetic and I was starting to worry because when she was sleeping I couldn’t rouse her easily, and her breath smelled and basically asked them to check her blood sugar.

So they did. (This was NOT an enjoyable experience for Elder Child.) it was at 2 - new to how Canadians measure shit, I’m really glad the little screen added in red: “CRITICAL LOW”.

The nurse made a phone call and stressed, surprised, that Elder Child was alert.

Upon the second attempt at a reading because it was low, Elder Child was more prepared. She kicked, she fought, she puked all over herself, and bolted for the emerge doors.

Ok. Skip a second test. (Note: I did not pack spare clothes.)

We were taken right back to a room in the emergency wing. Unsettling.

Then a flurry of people - a lady trying to help Elder Child adjust and calm down. Nurses. Doctors asking questions. (Another note - I have not slept well in 2 weeks, am hearing impaired, and now overwhelmed and scared. Not a good combo.)

Gave Elder Child a nasal spray to calm her (this resulted in another bolting for freedom, also thwarted), another blood check….and once the spray started to work, we tried to prep her for an IV/blood draw.

This was ALSO strongly disliked. More holding her down. I did a lot of crying.

We went through the symptoms - tummy hurting, drinking some water but hadn’t peed in like 6-7 hours, fever, sleeping constantly, not eating. Ended up doing ultrasound, X-ray. Ten bottles of blood (and she FREAKED). Finally got her to pee. Yes, she peed on me.

Refused food. Refused popsicles. Refused juice. Started IV - first sugar bolus. Then hydration. We named the IV robot Frank. Elder Child, loopy from the spray, patted it and told it it was doing a good job. Also, during our walk to ultrasound, said she was Frank’s pet puppy and he was taking her for a walk, see her leash? 😅

Spent the night. (Another note: my daycare kept her sister until bedtime. And we arranged to take her as soon as she woke up because we cannot trust my husband with her care.) Lots more holding her down and blood checks.

Also please note: Elder Dragoon wails and screams when distressed. She was very distressed. I felt really sorry for the staff because I couldn’t calm her.

In the morning she managed to eat a bit! Yay! Tried to disconnect the iv - sugar went down. Hooked her back up. Spent the day trying to get her to drink 100ml of apple juice.

Ended up discharged at almost 4pm - diagnosis: fever, causing hypoglycemia. Apparently kids don’t have as much stores as adults and the fever was burning through what she DID have.

So I spent today waking her every 4 hours and getting her to eat or drink. It took her an hour to drink half a juice box. But by dinner today she was improved and actually had food. And accepted popsicles.

Still have to get her eating or drinking again in about 20min. Then set the timer back.

I just want a full REM cycle of sleep. I am SO fucking tired.

[thewritersaddictions]

The Adults: Steve Harrington- Fishy Boy

Pairing: Steve Harrington x Fem!Henderson!Reader

Pov: Steve

Warnings: Older!Steve, Fish store manager, pet lover, fluff, Steve's hair hasn't changed, little chest hair.

Summary: Steve is now in his early 40's, for the first time enjoys his job. Working with animals and fishes and the fish store. You're just in love with Steve as he is about fish.

A/n- firefly-graphics for dividers

WC- 1.5k

Stranger Things Master List // The Adults Master List

Steve met you while he was working. You had walked into his shop, your hair pulled up into a small bun to keep flies away from getting in your eyes. You were beautiful, in comparison to his fish that are swimming around in their tanks. You had burst a bubble in his chest by just simply walking into his fish shop. 

The sign was bright and colorful. It’s almost too bright, but it’s beautiful nonetheless. “Angel Fish Supplies” it’s bright as the neon light filters back and forth between bright pink, green, and blue. It catches the eye as you drive past. 

“What are you looking for today?” My voice rings out regardless of how tired I am. I still greet the young women who stand in front of me. My shirt is a little wet due to the cleaning of a tank. She stands and takes in the surroundings for a moment before looking back at me. 

“I was looking for some guppies to put in my aquarium, I figured that you’d have what I needed.” She explains. Her face is making me second-guess myself. “You are looking… yeah I’ve got some guppies. What were you putting them in with?” 

I try to keep the question and conversations up as I walk back toward a smaller set of tanks. Ones filled with starter and food fish. She follows behind me. “I’ve got a few tanks, you'll have to be more specific.” I can’t tell if she’s flirting with me or seriously telling me to ask about her more. 

So I flirted back, “How big are they?” Assuming based on what she said. “Oh so big.” She days back. As we flirt and talk back with each other. I gather her guppies into a plastic bag and water. Before walking us back up to the checkout counter. 

“Was that all you needed?” She looks around. There are a few large tanks and a few smaller ones. She eyes something before looking back at me. “A pen and paper would be nice.” Straight forward. I dig around the drawer below the counter for a sticky pad, and she grabs a pen from the cup. 

I watch as she writes her phone number in the pressure of writing I’ve seen in my life. When she hands the pad back I read out the numbers. (984-227-0196). She smiles with glee, and above her phone number is her name. Again written perfectly it’s hard to not want to trace her letters. 

“Y/n, L/n” She hums. “Well, it was nice to meet you Y/n,” I say as she starts to grab her bag and walk toward the front door. “Call me later Steve.” She turns and brushes her hair out of her face. I stare much too long after she walks out of the door. After I hear the gravel of the parking lot stop. I stare and keep staring until the doorbell rings again. 

That was twenty years ago. When I was still young enough to catch the girl's attention. Not that I needed anyone else attention. After that day that Y/n walked into my store I called her desperately wanting to hear more of her voice. See if I could make her laugh, seeing if I could get her to flirt more with me. 

It had worked. I had charmed the shit out of her. Charmed her so well that she came into the store the next week and asked about a job. I obliged knowing that if I gave her a job I’d get to spend the whole day with her, at least twice a week. She accepted almost immediately. Y/n had accepted and has been working here with me for the past twenty years. 

It didn’t take long for our enjoyment of aquatic life, and other animals to bring us together. She was right about her massive collection of fish tanks. She brought me over to her house just a few weeks after she started working with me. Y/n lived in a small apartment but with every turn she made there was a tank. One was just a plant tank that had beautiful foliage. 

A saltwater tank, that gave life to gorgeous fish. An array of different colors and coral gave many hiding places to all of the hiding fish. Y/n had made dinner that night, and we ate on her couch. Talking and personally stuffing my face with a homecooked meal. 

Twenty years later and now I ate homecooked meals every night. Twenty years later and I have a partner that I go home with every night. I have someone that loves me just as much as I love my fish store. Angel Fish Supplies. I had decided that when Y/n and I got married I had to hire some new employees. 

We honeymooned on a cruise and took way to chance to view the ocean and go diving into the water at certain spots. Y/n and I still worked together. Working like a dancing couple in tune with each other. How’d you work with your wife in the kitchen as you both glide perfectly between each other steps? Almost step and toe with each other at each step of the way. 

A customer would come in, and Y/n would greet them with a bright smile not ever aged by the growing days that passed on. A beautiful grace in each step and she showed them around. I on the other hand was constantly working to keep up with the animals and tanks themselves. “This here is my husband and owner Steve.” I’d hear Y/n say in passing. In a quick few words, I’d say welcome, and until they needed something I continued to work. I’d gather up whatever they need. 

If a customer comes in and needs a tank I help to move it into their truck or car. Customer needs a few fish, or a few rodents for their reptiles I’m quick to father that up for them. I do have a favorite part of the day though, the end of the day. Not when we’ve come back home and dinner is being made on the hot stovetop. 

It when the door is locked, and the open sign in turned off. It when it’s just the two of us inside the store. When I can reach my hand around Y/n wasit with wet hands and pull her in by her hips. When I can hook my fingers into her jeans belt loops. She huffs and sighs in content as our chests are pressed up against each other. 

“Good day?” I ask her every night. She hums and rests her head on my chest. “Good day?” She repates my question. I kiss her forehead, “Everyday I’m with you is a good day.” She laughs and looks up at me. “Of course you’d say something cheesy like that Steve.” “Oh stop it, you love how cheesy I am babe.” We got back and forth with each, before the moment goes silent again. 

There are chores to be done before we can leave. Y/n and I have such a routine that the chores are done within thirty minutes now. Sweeping, checking up on the tanks, turning off lights, and locking the door seems to go by with great smoothness. 

She locks the door, and I turn the truck on. I open her door like a gentleman, and she gathers herself into the truck's passenger seat. There’s a small moment where neither of us says anything to the other. That’s until Y/n softly takes my hand in her smaller one. 

“Stevie, I love you.” She nearly whispers it into the air. “I love you too,” I whisper back and drag our clasps hands up to my lips. Pressing a kiss into her knuckles. I kiss each knuckle. It’s sweet and sensual all in the small act. She blushes, “Do you remember the day I came in?” She asks, I remember it clearly as the day before. It’s as if it all happened just yesterday. 

“Of course I remember that.” It’s really simple.

 “I remember the way you walked in, how your voice first sounded to me. I even recall what you were wearing. I remember the best thing from that day though.” Y/n hums back at me, eager to know what truly remember from that day twenty years ago.

“ I remember thinking how this beautiful woman was standing in front of me and writing her number down on a little sticky pad. For me to have, for me to call her later that night and hear her talk and talk about anything she wanted.”

I said in the content space between us. She wasn’t fawning over me, but her head was resting softly on my shoulder. 

“That’s why I love you.” I turned and whispered that against her skin. She shivered. “See always so cheesy.” She muttered under her breath.

Completed on: 04/10/23

Posted on: 04/20/23

The Adults- @yourfavdummy

[imagine-this-life-143]

Hwang Hyunjin - Muse

Time slowed down as you stepped into the sunlit living room of your apartment, Hyunjin was settled into the antique leather armchair staring longingly out the window. In the background piano music was playing softly, a vinyl Hyunjin had bought you on his recent travels. Your body moved to the music, graciously carrying you further into the room. The plush carpet felt warm under your feet as you swayed in the centre of the room. 

“As beautiful as you look right now, darling, we should probably get started.” Hyunjin reminded you, trying to erase the look of awe on his face. 

“Oh, right.” You froze in the middle of the room, glancing around awkwardly. “How do you want me?” Hyunjin smirked, standing up from his relaxed position. He gently placed his hands on your waist, shifting around the room until the back of your legs were against the couch. 

“Here,” his words were soft as he set you on the couch. You were pliant as he adjusted your positioning, finding the perfect pose to capture your features in the glowing sunset. “Gorgeous,” he drawled, smiling gently as he floated back to his perch. 

Since the start of your relationship, Hyunjin had been very passionate about combining his favourite hobby, and the love of his life into one afternoon. At first, you had been reluctant to the idea of him painting you, but eventually he won you over with his convincing. On two terms, that you at least had some clothes on, and he bought you a bottle of champagne for the afternoon.

But Hyunjin, being the amazing sweet-heart he was, had also provided you with an entire platter of grapes, crackers and various types of your favourite cheeses, quoting that ‘modelling was hard work and he couldn’t let his muse go hungry’. You giggled fondly at the memory from earlier that day, where he stood in the kitchen carefully building you the perfect platter, much to your reluctance. He could’ve given you a snack bar and you would’ve been perfectly happy still. 

“That expression is perfect,” he commented, drawing you out of the trance you had been sucked into. You turned your head to look at him, the beauty of the outside being forgotten once your eyes landed back on him. 

“I was remembering you in the kitchen earlier.” He giggled lightly, trying to hide his face behind the canvas, but you could still see the corners of his mouth twitching upwards. “You were so cute and pedantic about making the perfect charcuterie board, insisting that this afternoon had to be perfect,” you recalled. 

“What can I say? My queen deserves the best.” You blushed at his pet name, plopping one of the grapes into your mouth. The juice burst on your tongue, the grape flavour filling your mouth. 

“Well, she most certainly has it. Especially with Hwang Hyunjin in her life.” Now it was his turn to turn a deep shade of pink. “How did you know exactly what set to buy me by the way?” You questioned, gesturing to the cream-coloured silk pyjama set that he had also picked up along his travels. A gift to you, he had called it when he handed you the rather expensive looking bag. 

“Oh darling, I know you a lot better than you think I do. And that includes your body. I just imagined what would look best on you until I found exactly what fit the image in my mind.” You blushed gently, imagining him walking around shop after shop, asking the workers about what he had in mind. “And you look absolutely stunning in it too, better than I could’ve imagined in my wildest dreams.” That was it, the final nail in the coffin of a life without the love of Hyunjin. 

“Now just relax my darling, there’s still a long way to go yet.” 

“Is it almost done yet?” You questioned, it had been a while since you had started to get restless, despite the champagne and food that Hyunjin had provided you with. The sun had long-since gone down, and you were now sitting in a room lit by some candles and a lamp above the painting. How Hyunjin was even managing to paint in this darkness was a mystery to you, even with the light above the art it still seemed so dark in the room.  

“I’m just adding some finishing touches, okay? Have some more wine and move around a bit, how about we dance once I’m done with these?” He suggested, dipping the paintbrush into the blob of paint on the palette again. You thought of the idea, dancing around in your living room to the music softly playing. It seemed like a perfect way to end the night, so you poured yourself another glass of champagne.

“Tell me another story from tour Jinnie,” you asked, slowly swaying around the room to the music. You loved to hear tour stories, Hyunjin knew this as well, as you had asked him many times before for stories. As you had put it, it seemed like such a freeing experience, standing in front of a lit arena, thousands of people singing your songs. Of course, you knew the realities of tour, the exhaustion that came with it. But you still loved to dream.

“Do you want to hear about what happened in Atlanta?” You nodded eagerly, no doubt it would be another funny story involving one of the other members.

By the end of the story, you were almost doubling over with laughter, your champagne long since forgotten as your cheeks started to hurt from the smile plastered on your face. “I can’t believe Felix would do something like that!” You commented, another laugh tumbling from your mouth. “He always acts so innocent too,” you struggled to breathe with the laughter still tumbling from your mouth. Hyunjin had decided to tell you the story of where Felix got propositioned by a prostitute, and almost accepted the offer unknowingly.

“He’s a good kid, but too innocent for his own good sometimes,” Hyunjin agreed, a smile creeping onto his face at the thought of his younger brother’s laughable innocence. Once you had stopped laughing, he put the palette down on the small stand next to the easel, the painting in front of him finally completed.

“I’m done now. Shall we dance, princess?” You nodded happily, taking the hand he had offered to you. For the rest of the night, you swayed around the living area, listening to the music and feeding each other grapes and champagne.

[dancingbabya-notes]

Cafe cat-tastrophe

<-♧—♧—♧—♧—♧—♧—♧—♧—♧—♧—♧—♧—♧—♧—♧—♧—♧—♧—♧->

This is a Shonso x oc

thats it... um I wrote this before really reading any fics on him or getting information. He was just a tired ball and I liked

<-♧—♧—♧—♧—♧—♧—♧—♧—♧—♧—♧—♧—♧—♧—♧—♧—♧—♧—♧->

“Izumi! Where is Milk?” I groan peeking from around the cat rooms.

“Should be in the room.”

“He’s not here, that’s why I’m asking!”

Just as I round the corner, I notice someone at the door. Quickly walking down, the stairs, I open the door after the knocking starts.

“Hello, how can I help you?”

The man standing there is caked in soot and holding a bundle. Trying for air.

“Is this the pet shelter?” His voice is low, and I almost jump at the sound.

“Yes, Nekoma shelter,” nodding my head I open the door a little bit more.

He’s gentle about placing the bundle in my arms. I look to it and back up at him, as the soft sound enters my head ‘warm.’ Peeking into the blanket I notice the mewing kittens.

“Thank you, is there a fire close by?”

“Yes,” he nods before turning to look behind him. “Everything is settled over there.”

Peeking out the door I gasp. “That’s way too close to the house. I gotta tell my parents. Um thank you for bringing them here, would you like some water or are you still busy?”

“No, I don’t want to be a bother,” he shakes his head.

“Miyu, have you found Milk?” Peeking from the doorway I notice my brother.

“Izumi, can you get some water for this gentleman, he brought us some kittens and a cat from the fire a few houses away. I need to call mom and tell her about the situation,” I hold the bundle still while turning around.

“Um... sure,” Izumi disappears, and I look to the basket we keep by the door.

Gently I place the bundle in the basket. With my hands free I pick up the phone and call my mom.

~Miyu, what’s wrong?

“There’s a fire nearby, one of the heroes just brought over a bundle of kittens. I wanted to tell you first.”

~Alright, I’ll be at the house in an hour.

“See you then mom.”

Putting the phone on the cradle and notice the man looking for a moment. He had a cup of water in hand.

“You can drink the water, I’ll just go clean the kittens,” I manage picking up the basket and turning around.

I hear the noises from the cats and I nod. Walking to the counter space nearby I pull a basket and towel from under the counter. Gently wetting a cloth I wipe down the first kitten and keep them in the basket.

Mom didn’t seem to like that so she hisses. ‘No’

“Hey, I’m not hurting, you guys need to be cleaned. I’m gonna take you someplace warm and with food,” I start as I wipe her down too.

‘Warm?’

“Yes, warm not hot.” I nod.

All the cats were wiped down, all of them looked to be doing alright. I hope mom gets back to look them over. Looking back, I notice the hero looking at me.

“Sis, I can’t find Ginger,” he frowns.

“What?”

Looking at the basket I frown. “Mom won’t be here for an hour, and the twins will be back soon.”

“I’ll make the food for the mom and kittens.” He offers.

“Fine, I’ll place them in room six.”

“Why not room one?”

“Blueberry just gave birth remember?”

I look at the man I smile at him. “Thank you again. Sorry if we bothered you.”

“No it’s fine, you have a good day.”

My mom tends to the kittens and gives them a checkup. I clean the entryway and try to find my cats. Milk and Ginger were my cats and since they were so social that we let them stay with the other cats. A few days later I pace the whole block a few times. One of the twins found an opening where the two like to go. To prevent other escapes, it was fixed and I started looking outside.

Squatting down I try not to cry as I hold the fliers. But the familiar burn of tears starts. Standing back up quickly I wipe my face and slam right into someone.

“I’m sorry.” I manage through my tears.

“Woah I’m fine what happened?”

The man looked tired and his voice didn’t have much inflection when he spoke. “My cats got loose. It was a few days ago when a hero came in with a cat and her kittens. They are spoiled brats and wouldn’t last long out here.”

Just thinking about it made me cry more. I didn’t hear their voices when I walked around and I could only assume the worst.

“Hey, look at me,” he forces me to face him.

“Take a slow breath in with me okay?” He takes a breath and I copy his actions.

‘She seems really worried. I should have left sooner so she could have found the cats.’

I blink and pull away gently. “Sorry I need to.”

“Oi! Miyu, your fucking cats got into my house again.” A brash voice cuts in and I turn to Katsuki with a surprised look.

“What?” In a carrier is indeed my cats. “You two are in so much trouble you know that?!”

‘But-‘

“I don’t wanna hear it, I swear we take our eyes off you for one moment and you just vanish.” I frown.

‘It was warm outside.’

“I just bought you both heated mats. And that was the coldest place in the house so don’t give me that.”

“Miyu!”

I pause and take the carrier. “I’m so sorry you had to see that display. I’ll just be going then.”

“Stop, what was their excuse?” Katsuki asks.

“Something about it being warm.” I frown.

“Wait what just happened?” The man asks.

I get a better look at him and pull him closer. “Fine my left foot, you got a bruise forming faster that Kacchan can get angry.”

Without a second thought I drag both men into the house. Putting a cold compress on the purple haired male and taking the carrier from Katsuki.

“Don’t yell at me in your head. Use you’re big boy words Kacchan,” I glare.

“Why the hell are you using your quirk?”

“I’m not trying to, my inhibitor hasn’t been working lately I need to get a new one most likely.”

“What is your quirk?”

“It’s reading thought, animal and human alike. And don’t you two try to cry to Ikumi he’s just as mad as I am at you both.”

“Do you understand—“

“My cats? Yeah. I can understand all the cats and the dogs that come by. Also that cat you brought the other day is doing much better if you want to see her?”

“How did you?”

“Kacchan and Izuchi help fund our operations. When accidents happen, animals are often displaced. Although I’m not gonna lie they get mad when I rush in without authorization because my quirk constantly goes past the limiters.”

“Wow.”

“Keep an eye on your cats,”

“Thank you for bringing my children home Kacchan.” I give him a hug as he gets ready to leave.

Sitting down I look at the other man. “Sorry I just kind of told you that I know you’re a hero.”

“It’s fine. Are you okay?”

I frown. “I just slammed into you and headbutt you I’m more worried about you.”

“I’m doing okay?”

“Also, my name is Nekoma Miyu. But Miyu is fine if you’re familiar with Kacchan.”

“I wouldn’t say we’re familiar.”

“Well then if you’re close with Izuchi that works too. I know that Kacchan is kind of like a hedgehog.”

“Are you you know?”

“Nope, I’m like his big sister. That’s the best way I can put it.”

Taking the compress away I look at his forehead and frown. But stepping back I hold my hand to his.

“I think it’ll be easier this way. I’m still worried.” He takes it and I lead him to the quarantine rooms.

Looking over the doors I get to the sixth one and slowly open it. Sitting by the door I smile at the kittens just looking around.

“Don’t even think about it, remember the last time you did that?” I huff.

‘Sorry.’

“I’m Shinso by the way.”

[fablewritesnonsense]

Lost In The Commonwealth

Chapter 3: Interview

“Fucking missing detective too,” Bentley muttered as they stormed into the market. “Dogmeat, can I catch a single break? Just the one?” Dogmeat gave them a short bark back. Mac looked up from the noodle bar, but upon seeing the look on their face, decided his noodles were where his attention needed to be. 

“Hey Miss! Can I interest you in a haircut?” Asked a boy in a varsity jacket as they stormed by, and as tempted as they were to stop, they continued on. The girl in the long red coat and reporter’s cap was already waiting on her porch, smoking a cigarette as Bentley rocked up. 

“Hey Blue, off to find Nick?” She asked. That brought Bentley to a screeching halt. 

"Beg pardon?" They asked, staring at her. 

"What part's giving you trouble?" The girl teased. 

"All of it, but particularly how you knew I was looking for Nick Valentine," they said, slowly walking up to her. 

"Well, heard you and the Gunner talking about missing persons, figured you were going for Nick but he's gone and you're storming out not fifteen minutes after getting here," she pointed out. "As for the Blue, I can tell you're a vault dweller. You've got this fish out of water feeling hanging around you." 

Bentley sighed and rolled their eyes, beginning their trek out of the city. 

"If you're not psychic I don't have time for you," they said, resetting their mind.

"Mutants are still pounding at the door, you're not going anywhere," the girl said, following her along and walking behind her sister. "If you can spare another fifteen minutes of your time for an interview I'll pay you in caps and some food!" Bentley stopped and looked over their shoulder while Dogmeat whined at the idea of food. 

"An interview?" They asked skeptically. The girl nodded excitedly, hopping off the porch and jogging over. 

"A vault dweller's view of Diamond City, or even the Commonwealth at large," she rushed. "Fifty caps and some cram for the road? Maybe could spare some water. I gotta take care of my sister but I'd get a return on investment for a good interview." 

Bentley looked at the little girl waving papers and yelling, and heaved a sigh.  

"Yeah, sure, why not?" They said. The older girl beamed and lead them into the house. 

"My name is Piper Wright, that's my baby sister Nat," she said, pointing out the door before it closes behind Bentley. "Let me just, here we go!" She scooped up a notebook and fell onto a couch, pulling a pencil out of the cushion seats. 

"Bentley, I don't use gendered language personally but if it's easier then by a means." they replied, looking around the modest shack. 

"Okay Bentley," Piper said, looking up. "So, what was it like inside your vault, how long were you there? I've heard of settlers marrying in but, I dunno." Bentley took a moment to wrack their brain to remember what they'd seen on the monitors.

"They had us in cryogenic pods, froze us when we came down," they said, kneeling down to pet Dogmeat. Piper's head shot up. 

"Are you telling me you're from before the war?" She asked excitedly. Bentley nodded. 

"But you're looking for someone, right?" 

"My son, yes, he was taken and my husband was murdered by the kidnappers trying to protect him," Bentley's voice broke, and Piper's shoulders fell. 

"Oh my god, that's awful," she whispered. Bentley nodded, fiddling with the pip boy’s nob, flipping compulsively through the tabs. 

“Yeah, yeah it’s…” they trailed off with a sigh. 

“Do you have any idea who might have taken him?” Piper asked. 

“I have one lead, but I need Valentine to help me follow it,” They replied. 

Piper nodded again, looking back down at their notepad. 

“So, since you’re pre-war, what do you think of what you’ve seen so far?” Piper asked. Bentley sighed. 

“It’s…” they took a moment to organize their thoughts before continuing, “Amazing how humanity has managed to scrape together and survive after the bombs fell.” Piper shot an amused look over the notebook. 

“Want to elaborate on that?” She teased, but that only made Bentley double down. 

“Well, everyone’s figured out how to make up new weaponry,” they said, motioning to a pipe-pistol that sat on an end table near Piper. “There’s still governing bodies-” 

“If you can call them that,” Piper grumbled. 

“- there’s still business, trade is still happening, bottle cap currency? I always figured we’d go back to trade or gold or something, but the fact that bottle caps are just it now, fantastic!” They gushed. “And there’s still bots functioning, I saw a Mr. Handy and a Protectron out there! PErfectly functioning.” Piper smiled and nodded, jotting it all down. 

“Good to  know, is there anything you have to say to others like yourself? Those who have loved ones lost in the Commonwealth?” She asked, looking up and looking Bentley dead in the eyes. Bentley heaved a sigh. 

“Don’t give up,” they said. “If you just give up, you’re never going to know. Either you find them, or you know you did everything in your power to find them.” 

“Even if it means maybe finding them dead?” Piper asked. 

“I mean, you can still bring them home,” Bentley said softly. Piper smiled softly and nodded. 

“Well, thank you for your time Blue,” She said, getting up from the couch. She went over the the newspaper container in the corner and dug around for a moment before pulling out a bag and counting fifty caps out of it. “And there’s some cram around here somewhere…” 

“The caps are fine, Piper,” Bentley said, walking up and scooping them into their bag. Piper gave them a grateful grin and nodded. 

“Well, I’ll have this article printed up by tomorrow, if you decide to sleep over, I’ll have Nat hold some copies for you,” she said. “And honestly, if you need anything, I’m here. Even if it’s another set of eyes and an extra gun on the road.” Bentley smiled at her. 

“I appreciate it Piper, but I’d hate for Nat to be the one taking my advice,” they said. Piper winced at that, and Bentley made their exit. The sounds of the hair dresser hit their ears, and they turned back into town for a moment. 

A haircut sounded lovely and normal. And maybe a bowl of noodles… 

Valentine could hang on an extra thirty minutes or so.

If you enjoyed this chapter, leave a like and a comment here, and also consider clicking on the header link to leave a kudo and comment on AO3! Maybe even bookmark it and subscribe to my account? You'll get notifications when I post updates!

Have a wonderful day!

[toomanyfandomsorkinafs]

I’ve got more cause their clogging my notes :D

“Don’t tell him! Or I’ll kidnap (toy/pet)!”

“Noo not (toy/pet)! I’ll kidnap (toy/pet)!”

-

“In my defence, it was a good idea.”

“In my defence, it was awfully funny.”

-

“Remember the (nationality) girl/boy I told you about? The one with the blue hair?”

“Blue hair? She/he probably has pronouns too. I’m sorry.”

-

“Knock knock!”

“Whose there?”

“Depression.”

“Oh your early today!”

-

“From crook to cook.”

“From menace on streets to menace in the sheets.”

“…” 

“…”

“Are you flirting with me?”

“Is it working?”

-

“You know I’m a bass.”

“A bass what? Bass drum? Bass guitar? Are you an instrument?”

“I like to call myself an instrument of chaos!”

-

“Oh my god! **! Hi hi hi hi!”

“Hey how you doing?”

“I’m good!”

*walks away*

“I don’t even know her/him.”

-

“Let’s go socialize!”

“NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO-“ *runs away screaming*

-

*sees someone that betrayed/hurt the friend passing by*

“I should’ve run em’ over/shot him/her.”

“**!”

-

“Every time I leave the room, they somehow manage to set something on fire “

** from the other room “Hey, *? We have a uh. Situation!”

*** also from the other room “Which is definitely not a fire this time! I swear!”

“Yeah! Ignore the smoke!”

“Oh geez... Every time!”

-

“Why would you run into a burning building?!”

*holding something that’s only important to them* “I have my reasons.”

-

“You broke my heart!”

“Damn, that’s unfortunate.”

-

“In a pie eating contest doesn’t matter if you win or lose, you get to eat pie.”

-

* *** says something bad about ** favourite thing*

“Honey! Can you take *** off the wedding list!?”

-

“You can’t say the s word around me!”

“What’s the s word?”

“Sociali-“

“AAAAAHHHHHHH”

-

“Come on! You have socialise!”

“I’d rather have my arms ripped off straight from my body with me awake as I watch dogs eat my limbs.”

“Why so detailed!?”

-

“Hey…I know we aren’t that close right now but I’ve got something I’ve been keeping from you since we became friends. Actually it’s kinda of the reason we became friends. I’m not sure if anyone’s told you yet but don’t let this make any awkward between us please. I need you to know that I’d like to still be friends afterwards. Can we still be friends after? I am dating the muffin man. I’m so sorry.” -***

—

“What the actual hell is wrong with you?” -**

—

“You didn’t answer my question :(“ -*** 

—

“Which one?” -**

—

“Can we still be friends?” -***

—

“do I have to?” -**

“You want some?” *offers food*

“No I’m okay.”

“Ok.”

“Can I have some?”

*glares at *** * “No.”

“Actually yeah I do want some.”

*gives food to *** *

“Thank you.”

“Yeah thank you.”

-

“*really dumb story from when they were in college*

“Moral of the story, kids? Don’t go to college.”

-

“Hey we can’t make it cause **’s (body part) is hurting.”

“My (body part) is always hurting. My life is just suffering and I’m use to it.”

-

“Where hurts?”

“My belly.”

“What are you allergic to?”

“Stomach pain.”

-

“We threw a kid into a ceiling.”

“How?!”

“So there wasn’t enough room for all of us-“

“SO YOU THREW ONE INTO THE ROOF?!”

-

“You believed in Santa for how many years? So I think you can believe in yourself for a few seconds.”

-

*Online*

“I gotta to go my pizza’s here.”

“Where’s my pizza?!”

“It’s on its way!”

*few minutes later* 

“HOW THE FUCK DID YOU ORDER ME A PIZZA FROM (country on the other side of the world)!?”

-

“Which parent you think will be less pissed with you?”

“My dad.”

“Great I’m calling your mom.”

-

“You just woke me up, what happened?”

“I’m (usually a really big secret)”

“I’m awake now.”

-

“*dancing with a fake human manikin* So when can I dance with you?”

“When you stop stepping on the manikins feet.”

*the day they finally get it right.*

“So can I dance with you now?”

-

“Can you just walk in a straight line?!”

“I’ve never done anything striaght.”

“Me neither.”

-

“You want to say hi to everyone?”

“Noooo”

“Good girl/boy!”

*goes out to everyone*

“Yeah he/she not feeling well so I think I’m going to have to leave.”

-

“Why is 6 afraid of 7?”

“Um, well I assume because 7 is a prime number, and prime numbers can be intimidating?”

“…”

“…Because 7 ate 9”

-

“I’ve got us a new pet!”

“I swear to everything if it’s another Roomba..”

“No it’s a new pet!”

*pulls out a Roomba*

-

“*insults but spelled wrong*” -***

“Dumbass. Unaffected.” -**

“You *insults But spelled wrong again.*” -***

-

“Hunny! Pack your bags I won the lottery!”

“Oh my god! What should I pack?!”

“Anything! Just get out of here!”

-

“Oh shoot! I forgot the keys at your parents house!”

“Don’t worry I got this.”

“*talking to the door*Hey. You look really beautiful and I know it’s been a while since we talked but it would mean a lot if you’d unlock for me.”

*door opens*

“Wha-? Explain!”

“Communication is key.”

-

“*talking about trauma*”

“*agree that it also happened to them*”

“*something that could not be related to said conversation in anyway shape or form.*”

“I’m confused. What does have this to do conversation? But cool.”

-

*sees man with green hair passing in front the car*

“We don’t kill people with green hairs.”

“What?”

“We don’t kill frogs.”

“What???”

“Dad joke I learned from my dad.”

“Bud I think you got it wrong..”

-

“My first question is how. My second question is how but in a different font.”

-

“What you want from the restaurant?”

“I want a huh….a huhhhhh..”

“I’ll get the usual.”

-

“Rock paper scissors”

“You see I win!”

“Gun.”

“What?!”

“Gun beats everything.”

“That can’t be legal man.”

“But can you afford a lawyer?! No you can’t!”

-

*sees friend doing something very illegal*

“I support (women/gays/men)’s rights. But I also support their wrongs.”

-

*doing something random*

*lays on their back*

“What am I doing with my life at this point.”

*lays in silence*

“Insanity is feeding me,isn’t it?”

*falls asleep*

-

“Can I ask you a question?”

“Sure.”

“Is *** even real?”

“WHAT?!”*laughs* 

*explains why they think they aren’t real*

“Oh sweet **..of course their real!”

-

“** you have the craziness to be a smuggler.”

“*** you have the stupidity to be a pilot.”

“* you have the beauty to be a princess one day.”

“I’m straight up reporting you.”(*is male*)

-

“Guys I’m trusting you with all my idiotic heart.”

“That was your first mistake.”

-

“I’m a menace.”

“I was hoping you’d say that!”

-

“I’m looking at ** in a crop top, would that wake you up?”

“Yeah that would wake me up.”

-

“He’s like drag but he doesn’t actually do the drag he just becomes a woman.”(talking about mom friend)

-

“That is the second myth that serves him/her right after pushing him/her off a cliff.”

“HE/SHE IMMEDIATELY DIED-“

-

“He’s a watcher!”

“So he’s a stalker?”

-

“What’s on your to do list today?”

“First thing, no. Second thing, o.”

-

“You know what people say! Run straight into danger!”

-

“I need you to do a favour for me!”

“No thanks, I’m leaving.”

-

*answering the call* “Hello?”

“It’s ***.”

“What did he/she do this time?”

“No, it’s me, ***. It’s actually me.”

“What did you do this time?”

-

“Your roommate’s hot.”

“Wtf we’re dating. You’re literally my boy/girlfriend…. You’re right tho.”

-

"Free of charge, free (boy)friend for a day! (or however long you need him)"

“Are you advertising your (sibling/child)?”

“Yes I am!”

-

“Do you have a right hand man?”

“Do you want to be them?”

“You didn’t answer my question.”

“No I don’t.”

“Then yes, I would like to be your right hand man.”

-

“A (overpowered person) and a (another overpowered person).”

“Who would’ve thought?” *evil grins to each other*

-

"You want me to help you betray my husband?"

"Yeah, just give me a little help betraying your husband?"

"Yeah, go on then."

“Ah legend thanks.”

-

“I changed no to hell yeah in my dad’s phone.”

“Dad can I throw a party this weekend?” - **

“Don’t you need friends to throw a party?” - ***

-

“Hey what’s up?”

“Gas prices.”

-

“What do you want for your birthday?”

“(Something very normal like a properly good friend)”

“You should ask for something more realistic.”

“Like a Dragon!”

-

It’s not an oc without trauma!

-

“Snap your neck.”

“Okay.” *fakes break neck* 

-

“What did you just say?!”

“I said that you’ve got NO elbow!”

“*starts childish argument*”

“I don’t know them.”

-

“My little **(child) is the cutest, would you like to see pictures from his first day of school?”

“I'd love to but I have somewhere to be-“

*locks the door* “No you don't”

-

“Just cause I’d try to kill you, doesn’t mean I should be arrested” 

“Yes you do!”

“I didn’t mean it :(“

-

“Who would you take with you to be stranded on an island.”

“I’d take ** cause I feel like he’d taste good.”

“I agree!”

“Thanks- wait what?!”

-

“*** for as beautiful as you, I want to see your cat.”

-

“*something about themselves they know isn’t actually true*”

“Whatever floats your boat”

“Tho your boat is kinda sinking.”

-

“Baby when I have I ever cared if your broke or not?”

“We can grow together”

-

“Oh! That’s what I forgot! Knock me on my head,”

“What?!”

“Yeah! So I don’t forget.”

“Okay?! *lightly hits their head while saying thing they forgot*”

“No right here.” *points to spot on their head*

“Okay?!  *lightly hits their head again while saying thing they forgot*”

-

“*adult arguing with their parent*”

“(Sibling/child), tell them I’m still their parent and they have to behave and listen to me!”

“Okay?!? *** you have to listen to you parent?!”

-

“Ugh I don’t fit in anywhere.”

“Me neither.”

“Did we just become friends?!”

“I think so.”

-

“You want food?”

“No I’m good.”

“You good with an empty stomach?”

“Yes.”

-

“Remind me of (something) later so I don’t forget on the way there.”

“Okay!”

“Remember that!”

“I will!*mumbles* I hope”

-

“You there! Duck you!”

“What-“ *gets knocked out*

-

“Why are you saying it like-“

“YOUR HIRED!”

-

“You already caused enough damage.”

“I did…BUT I CAN ALWAYS CAUSE MORE!”

“Yeah, yeah you could.”

-

“I forgot..”

“You what?”

“I forgort…”

“You what?”

“I forgorrrr…”

“And you said you’d never.”

-

*Does something insane but it works*

“He’s expertly straddles the line between genius and insanity very well.”

-

“I got us matching eye mask!”

“** I’m blind! I don’t need an eye mask!”

-

“What is that on your desk?!”

“37 empty energy drinks.”

“I left you home for 5 hours-“

-

“Cry me a river and I’ll drink your tears.”

-

“Do you want a tour? Please say yes-“

-

“Can you turn on the light?”

“You're the only light I need in my life.”

“….”

“***, I can't see”

-

“Are you complaining?”

“No.” *scared look*

-

“Are you going to eat the food or not?”

“I’m gunna eat it.” *scared look*

-

“I identify as a threat. My pronouns are try/me.”

-

“Forget ‘I can fix him’, I saw this man/woman and I said ‘I can make him worse.’”

-

*gets stabbed*

“A knife! My favourite!”

-

“Your a bad influence!”

“Worst then **?”

“I don’t think that’s possible.”

-

“‘Separate the eggs’ like from the shells??”

“No- from the yokes and the whites.”

“There’s whites in here?! How’d you fit more then one white person in a egg?!”

“No-“

-

“I have all your passwords.”

“Wait actually?

“Yes??”

“Oh thank god, can you tell me them?”

-

“I’m the A in the LGBTQIA+.”

“Oh your asexual?”

“No, I identify as anxiety.”

-

“Here’s the guest list I made, where’s everyone you invited?”

*hands paper with names* 

“How many people are on this?!”

“Just the ones that I like.”

“There’s 5 people!”

“That’s all the people that I like.”

-

“Hey ***, I’m sorry what happened last night”

“Hello, this is ***’s dad. You might want to run.”

“Why?”

“She/he just left the house with a baseball bat”

“Oh my gosh thank you! It was nice knowing you!”

“It was nice knowing you too.”

-

“Where are all the hot people?”

“You looking right at them!”

“But your ugly! Oh damn it.”

-

“I forgive you for this.”

“Sure, but never forget.”

-

“You are so irritating sometimes.”

“Wanna make out?”

“Yes.”

-

“Guys… We’re friends, right? Are we friends?”

“Worse. We’re family.”

-

“If I had a nickle for every time I've had to YELL to get you out of MY HOUSE I'd have!-“

*starts counting*

“You'd have two tho-“

“Give him a minute. Just... Let him think about something...for once. “

-

“(S)he's covered in blood again. Why is it (s)he's always covered in blood?”

“Well, it looks like it’s her/his own blood this time.”

-

“***, can I speak to you for a minute? In private.”

“Ooh, someone's in trouble. It's me. I don't know why I did that.”

-

*takes a big bite of sandwich*

“What-“

“That’s a nibble.”

-

“It’s okay, we’re not late. No one’s there yet.”

“Are you guys apart of (group)?”

“Yes.”

“They’re there already”

“Shoot-“

-

*is very sad* 

“Do you know why I’m sad?”

“Why?”

“Cause you’re not mine yet”

-

“Give it back! If you don’t I’ll chase you down!”

*other person runs away*

“I don’t feel like it.”

-

“We don’t have flyers, we have fallers”

*falls out the sky*

-

“She should apologise..”

“No.”

“What why?!”

“She should die.”

-

“Sometimes your knight in shining armour is just a loser in tinfoil.”

-

“If I was in a room with *, **, ****, and a gun with two bullets, I’d shoot **** twice.”

“I would shoot **** once then myself cause I can’t handle the other two.”

“I’d shoot **** once then line the other two up to get a double kill.”

“This is real life that wouldn’t work.”

*realises*

“WHAT DOES THAT MEAN?!”

-

“What’s missing?”

“Just my dignity.”

-

“They called me the B word!”

“Mother***ker doesn’t start with a b!”

-

“Seems like we can’t isolate, ignore, ibuprofen our way out of this one boys.”

“Ignite it is.”

-

“Wow you’ve got energy”

“Nope! Anxiety”

-

*puts Their dog’s food on top of bones*

“Here you go, it’s a game called ‘find the bones while I find my will to live.’ Have fun”

-

*child does something scary*

“*everyone scared*”

“Spspspsps aw your adorable!”

-

“I’m about to cry. WHY ARE YOU OKAY?!”

“Why wouldn’t I be?”

“*thing they said that sounded like they were dying*”

“Oh. I forgot to update everyone didn’t I?”

-

“Say a word.”

“No.”

-

“What are you ashamed of?”

“Me”

This is for you Bunny(I KNOW YOU SEE THIS, DONT LIE)

I have been collecting incorrect quotes from IRL, things online or my own self. Have at it. I have to many and I really want to share :D

“You know, I used to think that ** was a bad influence on you.”

*arm stuck in somewhere it shouldn’t be*“Oh?”

“Now I realize that you both influence each other to do equally stupid things.”

“What has the world come to?!”

“Depression.”

“You can't make everyone like you; you're not **.”

“What? Not everyone likes **.”

“Who doesn't like **?!”

“Uh”

***, gripping *'s shoulders with the intensity of a thousand burning suns “Names, *, now. GIVE ME THEIR NAMES”

**(female) struggling to to open something so asks ****(male) to help but **** can’t open it so they ask ***(female) to help and they open it

“See ****, you have to become more feminine”

“What-“

“Cause even with barely any nails or with long nails the girls can open it better then you!”

“What do we say to the universe when we’re having a bad day?”

“How dare you seek to inconvenience me. I have been through things that you can’t fathom.”

“Why does it feel like the world fights me in every turn!?”

“Eat good food, happy thoughts come soon”

“Where is **?!”

“At very time and moment that is illegal to share-“

Honestly doesn’t take much to confuse me. I’m just a simple lad.

“YOU'RE A MONSTER! I'm so proud.”

“WHAT is wrong with you. It is so attractive”

"We're not dating, but we're devoted toeach other, and get jealous if someone hits on the other, but we are just friends"

“i'll cut your throat open, that'll shut you up!"

"you're beautiful...”

“Seems like I touch a nerve”*touches their own broken nerve* “AAAAH-“

"** brought emotional trauma to a knife fight”

“How much longer are we going to wait?”

“Just... give it a few more minutes.”

*  ** continues to forcefully push at a door that says pull on it*

“I just drove thru a rainbow” -*

“am I gay now?” -*

“a gay drive-thru?”-**

“Cheers!”

“To what?”

“To my most beautiful and amazing boyfriend/girlfriend!”

“Huh? What? Do you have another one?”

“By the power invested in me.. gay”

“This is the best financial decision I’ve ever made”

“What colour you want? Red or white?”

“Thats blue and gold.”

“OH- thats a mistake!”

“What colour are the balloons?”

“Red(white), green(gold), purple(blue)”

“I thought you were blind but turns out your blind and colourblind”

(Extra)

“What?”

“I literally just ask what was next.”

“Huh?!”

“Oh so you’re deaf, blind, stupid and colourblind!” 

“Oh i forgot your deaf, blind, stupid and colourblind! What don’t you have?!”

“Colours.”

“**, what don’t you have?”

“Brains?”

“What is this?! Vomit green!?”

“It’s olive..”

“It a mistake, that’s what it is.”

“Are you excited for (school name)?”

“Why would I ever be excited about school?”

“In my defence, I was left unsupervised!”

“I think I’ll die actually. Let’s try it!”

“You have to upgrade from a bystander and become-“

“A bully!”

“What you got there?”

*Very dangerous person behind them* “A smoothie?”

“Ah, yeah, I’ve heard about that! Rates are crazy in the States, right?”

“I’m from Canada.”

“Oh.”

“** you don’t have to talk. I have to talk.”

“If you push me, I can push you back.”

“No. You can’t.”

*in the other room*“Can I come out?”

“You’re gay?!”

“No! I can out like that last year!”

“I am a mosaic of every person I have ever loved”

“You Know other men/woman/gays and didn’t tell me?!”

“So, how did you two meet?"

“...You know, we actually legally can't answer that."

“As a members of the high gay council, he is gay.”

“Shout out to (person), gotta be one of my favourite genders”

“We'll blow up that bridge when we come to it."

"Nothing is getting blown up, **."

"The bridge is!" 

OR

“Not with that attitude”

“Remember guys, pain is just weakness leaving the body”

“When life gives you lemons, don’t make lemonade, make life take them back.”

“Aw, he’s cute and stupid. I’m keeping him.”

“He- he almost killed like half of us with that shit!”

“Shush.”

“Hey ** do you know about the autistic monkeys?”

“Wha- *laughs* N-nO”

“Good.”

*laughs* “that’s so funny, the autistic monkeys”

“I said Arctic Monkeys”

“Oh- *laughs* Y-yEah, I know the band”

“What- I mean monkeys that live in the arctic”

“Oh- we were not on the same page for this entire conversation”

“I DID IT! I MADE HER/HIM CRY!”

“In another life, I would have really liked just doing laundry and taxes with you”

“I- thanks?”

“Who needs hygiene when you got cake?”

“Your horrible and I love you”

[here4kpopfics]

Leave the Door Open | JJK

PART ONE | PART TWO | PART THREE

Pairing: neighbor!Jungkook x reader

Genre: smut, a dash of fluff, humor

AU: Strangers to lovers. Or Strangers to fwb? Up to you.

Wordcount: 7,367. oops

Summary: Based off this request. Your neighbor loves to sing karaoke in the middle of the night. You finally get fed up and confront him about it. Except when he opens the door, you realize you’re screwed. He’s gorgeous. 

Warnings: Language. All the warnings are smut warnings.

Smut warnings: Explicit sex. Protected sex. Light choking/breath play. Pet names (Sparkles and baby) 69ing oral (both receiving). Light anal play/rim job. Spanking. Biting. Bulge kink. technically cum eating at the end? multiple orgasms. He makes her cry it feels so good.  I feel like I’m missing something else. This is just porn with a very baseline plot

Rating: M / 18+

AN: How did we get here you ask? Well @here2bbtstrash made a request and I was just clocking off work and decided “yes. I wish to suffer. I have an idea” and spent the next 24 hours writing porn. Literally a day after posting my first smut. This is for M, but I hope you all enjoy. And as usual, thank you to the oh so beautiful @jjkeverlast for beta-reading for me. and @chryblossomjjk​ for enabling me with some of these kinks. 🥵 Banner and Divider made by the beautiful @classicseffects​​

and as usual, please leave feedback. Either with a reblog or send me an ask. It’s greatly appreciated. 💜

Series Masterlist | Masterlist | Taglist | AskBox | Coffee? | Patreon

It’s been a long day. You had three sets of parents chew you out about the store you work at being out of stock of a specific item. No matter how many times you calmly tell them you have no control over the store’s inventory because you are just an associate, a cashier that never works the floor and couldn’t even begin to tell you where to locate said items. Not your department, not your problem. If your managers really wanted it to be your problem, they should pay you more. But they don’t, and instead schedule you at ridiculous hours and expect the world from you in return. 

It’s finally 9PM which means you get to clock out and bolt home. You’re already planning the instant ramen pack and what to add with it from the convenience door next to your apartment building as you walk out the doors of hell. You want the spicy one. Should mix in an egg or something to bring the spice down a little bit, though. Maybe a bottle of soju as a treat? And absolutely some snacks and it’d be a crime not to get ice cream. 

The whole bus ride home all you can think about is making the food, settling on the couch and watching the most recent kdrama and judging the couple’s miscommunication issues. Maybe a nice bath too. Oh that’d be nice. You’d light some candles, bring the soju in with you, and just stay in the tub with a nice bath bomb. You pray your neighbor isn’t home so you can have some silence. 

You’ve never met your neighbor. He’s literally the apartment next to you, your bedroom shares a wall with what you assume is his bedroom as well. You’re not sure, but going off on the layout of the apartment complex and how similar every unit is, you assume it’s the bedroom. That and the few times you’d heard him bring a friend over and had been able to hear every moan and grunt from both parties. Although you could’ve sworn you heard three at one point. But it was always done on the weekends so it was fine. You weren’t too bothered by his sexcapades. Who were you to judge? If given the opportunity, you’d be bringing people home left and right. But the idea of all that flirting for just a one night stand seemed like too much effort.

Your problem with this mystery neighbor, however, is his karaoke habit. He has the voice of an angel and can sing anything with little effort. You actually enjoy listening to him sing, even softly singing along with him during the day. However, it’s not that often that it happens because he would usually carry out his karaoke escapades after 11PM and continue well into the night, usually around 3 or 4 in the morning. And always on weekdays, when you need the most sleep. You tried to work up the courage to confront him one night, but right when you left your apartment, he stopped and his place was silent. Another night, you just pounded the wall begging him to stop. He did eventually. But not until your thumps on the wall got lighter from you being too tired. 

You finally enter your apartment, with the results of a successful quest for sustenance in your clutches. You slip off your shoes at the door, Toss your purse on the counter and begin preparing food. Mission: eat and drink everything and feel no regrets is a go. 

While the water is boiling, you head to your room to change. You rip off your bra and your pants and grab a giant t-shirt that you’re pretty sure you accidentally stole from a one night stand years and years ago and have been too afraid to contact him again. So it’s yours now. It’s soft and not too thick. And it’s huge, which you love because it makes you look super tiny. You take note of how quiet it currently is on the neighbor's side. You wonder if he’s even home. Not your problem. You remind yourself as you return to the kitchen and get back to food prep. 

It’s now close to midnight and you have eaten all the ramen, grazed across all the snacks, had a good amount of the ice cream, and gone through two and a half bottles of soju and were feeling pretty good. You grow bored of the kdrama and decide it’s time to take that super relaxing bath you daydreamed about on the bus. Your neighbor still makes no noise on the other side, so you take this moment to enjoy some peace and quiet. 

You run the bath, light the assorted candles, and toss the bath bomb in before easing into the slightly too hot water full of oils, pretty colors, and an obscene amount of glitter. You put your hair up and slide down the tub in pure relaxation mode. Trying to erase the horrid customers from earlier. There’s no sounds save for the water dripping out of the tap and any movements you make against the water. 

The problem with relaxing like this in your tub is your breasts aren’t fully submerged in the water. They could be, but then the water would overflow. The cool air hits your sensitive buds, causing you to clench your thighs together. After a few more breezes tease your nipples, you say screw it and reach your hand down between your legs, looking for any kind of friction. Your fingers find your bundle of nerves underwater and begin moving against it in a figure 8 motion. You whimper softly, entering two fingers past your folds, using your palm and the water to continue to work against your clit. Your other hand is massaging a breast, twisting and pulling the nipple every now and again. You could feel the knot in your stomach begin to burn, already so close to release. So close. Just right there. Right there, oh god right the - !

“Give me your, give me your, give me your attention, baby. I got to tell you a little something about yourself. You're wonderful, flawless, ooh, you a sexy lady. But you walk around here like you wanna be someone else.”

What. The. Fuck?

The sudden sound of your neighbor singing and the music blaring through every crack in the walls sends your hand flying away from your center, killing any chance at an orgasm. Your sudden movement causes the water to slosh over the edge and you hastily make to get out of the tub. You get one leg over onto the floor but it lands on a puddle of water and sends you flying forward. You brace your hands in front of you to catch on the countertop before you slam your face into it. Your other leg doesn’t go the right height to get over the tub and instead slams into the side of it. You let out a sudden cry or pain, finally steadying yourself against the counter.

You give yourself a few seconds to assess what the hell just happened. You were masturbating. It was great. You were so close to coming. And then your stupid neighbor decided right then was the time to sing Bruno Mars. And you almost died getting out of the tub. Fan-fucking-tastic.

You catch your breath, until you realize he’s still fucking singing. “That’s it. I’ve fucking had it.” Your voice is laced with hatred as you grab a towel and wrap it around your damp body, not giving a shit about the way you look. You need to give him a piece of your mind and you need to do it now while you have courage, amplified by the soju. You don’t even bother putting on your sandals as you march out your door, turning 90 degrees left and again until you’re facing his door. You take a deep breath and begin pounding on the door, mentally preparing which vile words would come out first. The music stops and you can hear footsteps approaching, but you keep knocking away until the door finally opens. 

“You don’t have to keep knocking ya know, I heard the first three.” He has the audacity to sound annoyed with YOU making too much noise? Seriously? You open your mouth to retort back such thoughts when you finally catch a glance at the beautiful sounding singer with horrible timing that you want to strangle to death. 

Fuck, he’s gorgeous. 

He’s slightly taller than you. Black hair cut almost like a mullet. With his bangs split down the middle. A lip ring attached to his bottom lip. Big round eyes and a nose you immediately deem the cutest nose to exist. A few freckles scattered across his face and neck in the best places, you decide the one under his lip is your favorite. He’s leaning against the door wearing a matching pajama set of black silk with gray rectangles lining the entirety of it. His sleeves are rolled up and fuck he has a tattoo sleeve. You're ruined. 

Your extremely attractive mystery neighbor just stares at you and you’re staring back, lips parted, still trying to find the words you were going to say before you knew you were going to say them to the prettiest man ever. Finally you just grab whatever words you can find so that it’s not silent. 

“Fuck me…” his eyebrow quirks up and he crosses his arms across his chest. 

“Sure, but at least tell me your name first.”

“What?” You frown. 

“Unless you want to stick to nicknames. I’m down with whatever. You can be Sparkly Towel Girl. Though it doesn’t really roll off the tongue as well…” He smirks and it finally clicks in your head what just happened. 

You’re in a towel. Only a towel. Your hair is a mess. You have glitter from the bath bomb glued to your skin that is actually still wet. And you just told him to fuck you. Your cheeks heat up and your eyes go wide. “No! No no no not what I meant.”

“You mean you don’t want me to fuck you?”

“No!” You scoff trying to sound offended. “Why would I want to have sex with you?” He shrugs. 

“I don’t know, baby. You’re the one at my doorstep at 12:30 in the morning sopping wet in a towel sparkling like a fairy saying fuck me.”

“No I don’t. That’s not.” You’re very hyper aware of the towel now and tighten it around your chest, praying he both does and doesn’t see the way your cleavage pushes up. You cover your face, trying to rewind back to when you were angry. What were you angry about? 

OH. The karaoke! 

“I was taken aback. That’s why I said what I said. But that’s not important. What’s important,” you huff, welcoming back your anger with open arms, “is your constant need to sing in the middle of the fucking night on weekdays only. Do you have no consideration for your neighbors who work late nights and early mornings every day? I can accept you having obnoxious sex on the weekends, but keep the singing to day time hours, yeah? I’d like to get a good night’s rest at some point in my life.”

You rush your words, trying to put emphasis on you needing sleep, because you do. You were tired of sleeping only a few hours a night. Even then, it was constantly interrupted by this man’s beautiful voice. You look him in the eye, looking for any form of acknowledgement, until he silently nods. “Okay. No more singing at midnight. I’m sorry.” He almost sounds sincere and you’re willing to accept it and move on.

You make a small enough curtsy that your towel will allow and mutter a thank you before turning to leave. Just as you get back to your door, Sexy Neighbor speaks. 

“You gonna tell me your name though, or am I going to have to call you Sparkly Towel Girl every time?”

You turn back to him with a softer glare this time. “Depends. You gonna tell me yours or am I going to have to call you Attractive Pajama Man?”

“So you think I’m attractive.” The most obnoxious grin forms on his lips. 

“You know you are.” You roll your eyes and turn back to the door handle. 

“Could say the same about you, Sparkles.” He’s having fun teasing you. But his tone turns more serious when he finally looks down at your leg. “Hey you okay?”

You look back at him, eyebrows raised in question. “Yeah, just a little traumatized and embarrassed but I’ll live” you joke, trying to make this as fast as possible so you can get back inside. 

“No, I mean your leg. It’s bruised. And swollen.” You look down and gasp. Somehow in the span of you falling out of the tub and stomping over here to give me pleasant conversation has resulted in a gnarly bump forming on your shin as well as a deep bruise. 

“Oh. That’s. That’s nothing. Ignore that ever happening. It didn’t.” You turn your door handle as he steps away from his door. 

“You should probably go see a doctor. Or at least some ice packs. I have some in my freezer.” He actually sounds concerned as he starts stepping closer to you, eyes still honed in on the bruise.

“No, it's fine. I’m fine. Goodnight, stop singing in the middle of the night please, that's all I ask. Okay goodbye.” You open the door, swiftly rush inside and close the door before he can get to you. 

Once you lock your door and head back to the bathroom to rinse off the glitter, you realize that glitter is just a way of life. No matter if you want it or not. It’s going to be stuck to you for days and follow where you go. You take a look at your leg and wince as you lightly touch it. It doesn’t feel broken, thank god. It’s just deep and super painful. You change back into pajamas and crawl into bed with an ice pack, pain relievers, and extra pillows to elevate your leg. You take the pills and settle in, scrolling through your phone until you fall asleep. Sexy neighbor man didn’t sing the rest of the night. 

He actually didn’t sing the rest of the week. 

He couldn’t. The sexy towel girl at his door looked exhausted. He genuinely had no idea you could hear him. He never heard you make any noises from your shared wall. Originally he was going to just keep singing. One cute girl wasn’t going to tell him what to do. But when he saw the bruise on your leg, he felt overwhelmed with guilt. He could only assume you got it when you rushed to knock on his door by how fresh it was.  

So instead of singing around midnight. He had a hard cut off time at 10:45 and then switched to headphones where he would only sing as softly as he could as far away from the shared wall as possible. 

What bothered him the most was he still didn’t know your name. He could easily go down to the mailbox room and find your number and therefore your name. But he didn’t want to do that. He wanted you to say it. And for you to say his name. He just had to find the right moment. Which was difficult when you seemed to always be out. 

Five days later, he’s working out in his living room. Yes, it’s midnight. Yes, there’s a gym in this building. But he’s got to stay just in case. He’s beginning to lose hope in ever seeing you again, ignoring how ridiculous that sounds when you literally share a wall with him. And it’s only been five days. As he finishes a set of push ups, hope is restored. You’re home. And you’re loud? He freezes, trying to imagine what you're doing just by listening. You’re actually laughing but it doesn’t sound genuine. It almost sounds painful, like you’re angry? A few moments later, he hears music. It’s loud, and he chuckles to himself. 

“Let’s see what happens, Sparkles.” He heads to the bathroom, removing all of his clothes and stepping in the shower to briefly wash off the sweat. He steps out and wraps a towel around his hips. He leaves the shoes just like you did and heads straight to your door, pounding on it in the exact same manner you did. 

You’re dancing around the kitchen, clothes strewn about the floor as a result of you rushing to change into the giant shirt again with just your underwear underneath. You just got to the chorus, brand new bottle of whiskey in hand and are about to go hard into the dance when someone starts pounding on your front door, causing you to nearly jump out of your skin. You swing the door open, not caring that your legs and hips were on full display, and are met with you could only assume a hallucination. 

You both eye one another up and down, unable to speak. Your eyes are locked on the towel, specifically the corner of the towel that’s tucked into itself to stay attached to his hips. You’re not sure if you’re drooling from your mouth, but you know another place is. Finally, he clears his throat and grabs your attention away from the towel. 

“I think I see what you meant. It’s a bit hard to focus when that’s what I’m greeted with.” He tries to hide the devilish smile he gestures to your legs. You hum, not really sure if you’re agreeing, and if you are, to what. Your focus is back on the towel and the abs above it. You want to scratch them. You want to mark any part of him you can. He tilts his head, trying to get your attention a second time. “Sparkles? You okay?”

You finally make eye contact with him. “Sparkles?” You question in a whisper, suddenly remembering the last encounter. “Oh…right…” You hum in response again and then look at the bottle of whiskey in your hand and then back to him, his mouth specifically, down to that damn towel, and back to the whiskey. You shrug as if someone made a good point and put the bottle down on the side table next to you. You smile something sinister and reach out for the towel, tugging him inside, with him closing the door behind himself. 

“This is a better option than whiskey.” You let go of the stubborn towel still attached and reach up to wrap your hands around the back of his neck, pulling his lips down to meet yours in a needy kiss. His eyes widen, hands going for your waist, pulling away from your lips

“What is happening right now?” He sounds so serious and you hate it, so you reach back for his lips when he shuts you down again. “First of all. You’re drunk. So this is not happening.”

“I’m not drunk…I was going to. Brand new whiskey. See?” You pick the bottle back up, showing off its perfectly unbroken seal. “You can even smell my breath. Not a lick of liquor. Very sad. But now you’re here. That's way better.” You pull him back down to you and capture his lips again, this time he returns it in full, gripping your waist and pulling you flush against him. 

“As much as I appreciate being considered better than alcohol, and glad you can consciously consent,” he smiles into the kiss, “there’s one more thing, Sparkles.”

“Hmm?” You moan out. He kisses down your chin, across your neck, and buries his face into the crook of your neck, biting and leaving marks along the way. 

“I need to know your name, sweetheart. And you need mine.” 

“I don’t need yours.” You mumble back. He laughs, pulling away from your neck to see your face. 

“You will need it if you’re going to be screaming for me.”

He can actually see you process this thought, mentally going through every scenario where you don’t know his name. Finally settling on him unfortunately being correct. You don’t want to be called Sparkles during sex and you need a better name than Sexy Neighbor. You lock eyes, suddenly very aware of what's going on. You let fears and anxieties walk out the door and you nod. 

“It’s Y/N” you practically whisper. You let your fingers toy with the hair at the nape of his neck, leaning forward to kiss his nose. He smiles at the soft action, tipping his nose up to capture your lips again. This time, slow and methodical, but still as desperate. He only pulls away enough to say his name against your lips. 

“Jungkook, baby. It’s Jungkook. Now let’s get out of your hallway. I have a girl in front of me who had a very specific request last week. I need to fulfill it.” He lowers himself just enough that he can hook his hands behind your thighs and lift you up and return his lips to yours. You wrap your legs around his waist, subtly trying to take the stupid towel off with your feet, but failing miserably. 

You’re not sure how you ended up on your bed. You didn’t tell him where to go. You mindlessly confirm your assumptions were correct and you had the same floor plan so he just knew where to go.

He lies you down on your back, legs still hooked around him and he awkwardly crawls over you, mouths staying connected until he rolls his hips into yours. That stupid towel still attached and rubbing against your covered core. You whimper at the friction, but it’s not enough. 

You let your legs go from around his form and reach down, finally tugging the towel away and tossing it across the room like it was poison. “Finally” you accidentally huff out loud, causing him to burst into breathy laughs on your lips. You ignore him, reaching down for his length which, though you haven’t seen it yet, feels overwhelming. He’s hard and you can feel the precum on his tip as you slide your thumb over it. You bring your hand down his length, twisting your wrist as you bring it back up, thumbing his tip again. His lips part as he lets out a groan. 

“Fuck, baby. Be careful, I’m embarrassed to say I might not last if you keep touching me.” 

You whine. “Want it. Want your cock.” You sound so needy and desperate, the complete opposite of how you usually are in bed. Usually in control, usually a brat that needs to be punished. You’ve never been truly submissive like you feel right now. You can’t bring yourself to care. 

“And you’ll have it. But first, let me taste you and get you ready.” He moves to sit up and push you further up the bed when you mutter out a “No.” He stops everything and looks at you. Your eyes are trained on his member. “No? Is everything okay? Did I do something wrong?” You just shake your head again. 

“Wanna taste at the same time.” You mumble, pulling yourself up, pushing the still confused man to be the one that lays back. You peel your underwear off, leaving the shirt on, and crawl over him, hovering your center just above his chest while facing away from him. You lean forward, grabbing his erection and giving a long lick from the base to the tip, wrapping your lips around the tip and sucking. You can hear his guttural reaction and suddenly two hands are violently tugging your hips closer to his face. You stop sucking long enough to reposition your knees on opposite sides of his head. He brings your hips down when you feel settled and dives into your sopping wet center. 

“Shit. That feels so fucking good.” You moan, leaning back down, slowly easing his cock down your throat. He bucks his hips up unintentionally and you gag slightly, but he doesn’t hear. Instead, you brace both hands on his meaty thighs and bob your head up and down, taking him all the way each time and gagging around him before coming back up. You rut your hips against his face as he continues fucking his tongue into you, sucking on your bundle of nerves in intervals. He brings two fingers into play, sliding them against your entrance a few times before easing them into you, letting you fuck yourself with them.

Feeling close to his own release, he glances up at your rim. He runs a thumb along it, adding the smallest pressure possible, yet still earning a pleased reaction from you. He takes that as a yes and brings his tongue to your hole, licking flat against it before dancing his tongue around the rim. You keen, your head falling against his cock that you’re subconsciously still stroking. “Don’t stop. I’m so close. Please, Jungkook. Keep going.”

You find a strand of energy in you, determined to make him come at the same time and wrap your mouth around his tip again, hands working the shaft while you suck mercilessly. You both let out a series of loud moans, groans, and cries before you feel your hips spasm against his mouth, coming hard. At the same time, his hips snap up, ramming his cock even farther into your mouth, shooting the bitter white liquid down your throat. You swallow proudly, resting your head on his pelvis to take a breath. 

“What the hell was that…” was all Jungkook could mutter, still processing what just happened. After a few moments he pats your leg where your bruise was starting to fade. “Wait.” He raises his head, a little shocked. ”Did you swallow?” You smile and nod, rubbing your cheek into his skin, humming out a yes and kissing whatever skin was there. He can barely see what you’re doing, but the feeling alone is enough to make his member come back to life. You feel it twitch and move to sit up again and grab it. But he catches you in time, flipping you around and over so he is now facing you from above. “No no. Not again. You specifically said ‘fuck me’ last week. I intend on doing that.” You groan at the change in positions and mope. You look tired and he’s still thinking about your frustrated laugh from earlier. 

“But first,” he grabs both of your wrists in one hand, sliding them up above your head while holding himself up with the other by your head. He leans down, leaving a soft kiss on your lips. “First, I need to know why you decided to blast music at midnight, and why you were about to crack open a bottle of whiskey by yourself. Are you okay?” his face softens, no longer full of lust. It’s still there, hiding behind his concern and obviously pressing up against your stomach. But he clearly has more important needs right now. Like making sure he’s not about to make a mistake. 

You get lost in his eyes for a moment before nodding slowly, supressing the emotions building up behind your eyes. “Yeah. Just had a bad day. But I’m fine, I promise.” Your smile doesn’t fully reach your eyes and Jungkook doesn’t know if he believes you.

“No bad breakup or fight with a guy or girl I should know about? I don’t do rebounds and I don’t condone cheating.” He’s very serious. You just laugh, this time it’s real and he can tell immediately. 

“God, no. No exes or currents. Haven’t had that in years. No no no. Just…I got fired from my job and want to have something good before having to deal with the impending doom of reality, okay? Just make me forget for a moment, please?” Those stupid emotions are on the brink, threatening to spill from your eyes. You shut them tight, fighting against the feelings you want to let go. He sighs, leaning down to kiss your eyelids, moving up to your forehead. 

“Okay, baby. I can do that. Do you want it rough or gentle?” You puff out a breath, trying not to laugh at the question. 

“Either is fine. Rough would be better…” you mutter under your breath. He just nods, kissing your forehead again, trailing down to your ear.

“I’ll make you forget, baby. Just focus on me and how I make you feel, okay?” You nod, moaning softly when he licks the shell of your ear. “Where are your condoms, y/n?” You gesture with your head to the left nightstand and he lets go of your wrists to briefly move off you to grab one. He comes back, foil unwrapped and rolling it down his length. He gazes down at you and you can see a weird shift in his face. His tone suddenly becomes darker as he slowly pumps himself. 

“You’re gonna be good for me, right babygirl?” You nod enthusiastically, mentally making fun of yourself for switching to full submissive for a guy you just learned the name of. 

“I’ll be good, I promise.” you sweetly respond, lifting and spreading your legs open for him to crawl in between. He sets one leg on his shoulder, leaving the other to rest on the bed as he lines himself up to you, smirking as he rubs the tip against your clit for a moment, watching you squirm before fully entering you without hesitation. 

“Oh fuck” is all you can let out as you lift your hips to meet with him. He lets out a low groan as he pulls out everything but the tip, pushing your hips back down, keeping them there, and slamming back down into you. You arch your back, one hand grabbing onto the bed sheets and the other reaching out for any part of him. He notices, smiling as he leans back down, giving you better access. You find his waist and dig your nails in as he continues with his relentless pace on your pussy. He grunts loudly, fully leaning down over you, both knees over his shoulders. 

You grab his neck and pull him into a sloppy kiss, teeth crashing together as you try to breathe through the pounding. “You feel so good, Jungkook. So big. Stretching me out perfectly. Fuck me just like that please. Don’t ever stop.” You cry out mumbling for him to not stop over and over. 

He finds his new favorite spot on your neck and bites down before sucking, ensuring you’d be marked, and moving on to another spot. You mewl at his little art project on your neck mixed with the feeling of him fucking into you over and over until you come without warning. His hips stutter at the noise and feeling of you clenching around him and he has to still himself inside you before he finishes. “I’m not done with you yet, baby. Flip over. All fours. Now.”

You oblige, albeit slowly. Your legs are shaky and you don’t know if you can hold yourself up very well, but you try. The moment you think you can keep yourself up, a hard smack sound fills the room as his large hand meets your ass. Your arms give out and you almost face plant into the pillows before a tattooed arm slides around your waist pulling you up to your knees. 

“No, you don’t. No resting, baby. On your knees, I’ll keep you up.” His hand slides up your chest, under your shirt, creeping out of the neckline to wrap around your throat, holding you against his chest, letting you rest your head back on his shoulder. You’re panting and whimpering against him. He kisses your temple, quietly asking if you were good to continue. You nod and whisper a yes as he slips himself back inside you and continues his pace like he never missed a beat. 

“Baby, you’re so tight but you take me so well. You feel like fucking heaven.” He pants in your ear, the hand not around your throat sliding down between your legs to your pulsing center. You whine and struggle as he starts rubbing in big lazy circles. It’s after a particularly deep thrust he feels something under his palm. He does it again to confirm and grins. 

“Give me your hand, baby.” You lift it up without thinking too much, unsure where he wanted it. He grabs your wrist and places your hand flat against your lower stomach just above where he’s ruining you. He does another deep thrust and you feel it. Your eyes widen and he chuckles. “You feel that? Feel me all the way inside you?” You’re silent, in shock at the bulge you feel. “How about now, baby? Feel it now?” He gives another sharp thrust, lessening his clutch around your throat, forcing you to cry out. 

“Yes I feel it!” You feel the knot inside you coil up and ignite. “Please. Jungkook. I can’t. I can’t take it anymore. He eases you back on to all fours and you grab a pillow, clutching it for dear life. To compensate for not being able to be on all fours, you put all your strength into raising your ass to meet with his hips perfectly. He groans at the view, slapping your ass again. He uses both hands to grab to give it a massage, separating your cheeks to get a better view. He sees a perfect opportunity to make you see stars and keep your mind off anything troubling you. 

“You wanna come for me, baby?” His voice is low. You nod into the pillow. “Remember what I did with my tongue earlier?” His thumb softly grazes over your hole and you nod, letting out a whiny moan, pushing your ass back for more. “Do you trust me?” You nod again. “No, y/n. I need to hear you say it. Do you trust me?” He asks again. 

You frown, lifting your face out of the pillow just enough to force out the words “Yes, I trust you. Please, let me come. Please.” And tuck your face back into the pillow. 

“Thank you, baby. Relax for me. Just enjoy it.” He pulls out momentarily, chuckling as you whine at the feeling. He sinks his thumb past your folds, gathering up any arousal he could before inserting his cock back inside, eliciting a low moan out of both of you. He smears his thumb across your puckered hole a few times, adding more pressure each time. Once he feels you relax more, he presses his thumb past the tight ring of muscles at the same time as he thrusts his hips deeply into your cunt. 

You suck in a breath and hold it, toes curling, and you bring the pillow even closer to your face, biting down on the satin pillowcase. He holds his position with his free hand on your hip, rubbing soothing circles with his thumb. “Breathe, baby. It’ll feel better when you breathe.” He whispers, slowly pushing deeper until his knuckle slips past the muscles. You let out a guttural moan, pressing yourself back towards him, helping him get the rest of his thumb in. “Can I move again, y/n? You’re okay?” You nod into the pillow almost shouting a yes into it. 

He resumes thrusting, starting slow, eventually building back up to his rapid pace curling his thumb with every thrust. Your moans are deep, cut off by trying to catch your breath every other moan. “Jungkook. I’m coming. Please. Let me. Say I can come.” If he wasn’t so close himself, he’d be chuckling at you begging, teasing you and edging you. But he needs his release just as much as you do.

“Come for me, baby. Let go. Come all over my cock.”

And that’s all you need to hear before you’re screaming his name and varied obscenities, clenching around him as you enter a state of euphoric bliss. You see stars and in the background you hear him groan deeply, coming inside of the condom deep inside you. He eases his thumb out of you while you’re out of it and just takes in the view below him, face still in your pillow, back shivering and rising and falling in time with your rapid breathing. How the hell did he just have the best orgasm of his life with a girl he literally met twice even though you’ve been neighbors for who knows how long? His hand on your hip tightens a little as he moves to pull out of you. A small whimper coming from you in the pillow. 

Once he’s fully pulled out of you, you fall on your side, freeing the pillow from your face, ignoring the drip of saliva coming with it and watch him begin to remove the condom. You’re exhausted. You don’t want to keep going. Yet your body moves of its own accord and you hold yourself up enough to reach out to stop him from doing it. “Let me” you choke out. He removes his hands, watching you carefully as you slowly remove the condom, hissing slightly at your touch. 

You hand him the condom to tie up and toss aside and gently hold up his length covered in his release and, locking eyes with him, lick up his length. “What the fu-uck?” He groans out, tossing his head back. You clean up every inch of him, ending on his tip and he has to softly push you away before he gets hard again. “No. Baby, stop. No more. I appreciate the enthusiasm, but I am spent.” He whispers into a laugh. 

You grin up at him, launching yourself backwards, spreading out on the bed. Your shirt riding up your stomach. He’s not sure what to do next. Should he leave? Ask to use your restroom first? But why do that when he lives next door. You can see his confusion, you pat the space next to you, gently moving yourself over, wincing all the while, so he has room. He smiles, laying down on his side next to you. It’s silent for a moment. He reaches out to play with the bottom of your shirt. 

“Is there a reason you kept this on?” He questions, mindlessly running his fingernails across the hemline. 

“It’s too big. Makes me feel small. And you haven’t earned the right to see this divine pair of tits.” You smile at his gaping reaction. 

“After all that?! And I still don’t have the privilege?” He drops the fabric and waves his hand around the both of you. “Literally ruined you and I don’t get to see the goods.” He whines dramatically. You giggle, sleep fast approaching. 

“Next time.” You mumble. 

“Oh there’s a next time?” His eyebrows raise and he smiles. 

“You think after all that,” you mimic his gestures, “I wouldn’t want a next time?” You both burst into a fit of giggles. He stops first, reaching out to remove a strand of hair from your face. 

“Well I surely look forward to next time then.” He whispers softly, moving a bit closer at the same time. 

“Who knows? Next time could be in the morning.” You say it so confidently. You had expected him to fuck you and bolt. But him staying has to mean at least a little something, right? Except his happy expression falls into that of worry and uneasiness. 

“I actually have to go out of town tomorrow.”

“Oh…” you frown, trying not to look too devastated. He cups his hand around your face, gently smiling.

“I’ll be back in like three days. I’ll let you know. Then we can have as many ‘next times’ as you want, okay?” He grins as your expression perks back up, leaning across to give you a few soft and sensual kisses. “I’m going to stay here until you fall asleep. But I have to pack, so don’t think I just got up and left in the morning, okay?” You nod your head, shuffling closer to tuck your face into his chest and drift off to sleep immediately. 

When you wake the next morning, he’s gone. As he said he would be. And thus began three days of complete silence. 

On the day of his alleged return, you stayed home all day pampering yourself. You put on one of your favorite lingerie sets that really enhanced your already marvelous chest and curves and put the same big shirt back on over you. 

You were ready by midday but you had one problem. You had no idea when he was coming back. You two didn’t swap phone numbers or socials. He didn’t tell you any details. So you spent the rest of the day on the couch moping about being fooled. Which didn’t make sense in the first place. You two weren’t anything. You had a crazy intense one night stand and that’s it. There was no date offered. No deal made. Nothing. So why were you getting dressed up for a one night stand? You tried to reason with yourself until you fell asleep on your bed around 8PM, figuring he wasn’t going to come back, and if he did, he forgot about you either on purpose or accident. 

You’re jolted awake by loud music and the beautiful voice of your stupid sexy neighbor at 11PM. 

“What you doing? Where you at? Oh, you got plans? Don't say that. I'm sipping wine in a robe. I look too good to be alone. My house clean, my pool warm. Just shaved. We should be dancing, romancing in the east wing and the west wing of this mansion, what's happening?”

He sounds like he’s directly on the other side of the wall and you both hate him for doing this and love that this is how he’s waking you. He continues on as you check yourself in the mirror, convincing yourself you still look good and not to get too excited and eager. 

“I ain't playing no games. Every word that I say is coming straight from the heart. So if you tryna lay in these arms, I'ma leave the door open.”

He belts out the last line and you can’t help but laugh. After a final once over, you head out of your room. He’s still singing as you put your slippers on and head out the door. 

“And I'm hoping, hoping that you feel the way I feel. And you want me like I want you tonight, baby.”

You turn to his door but it’s already cracked open. You roll your eyes at his ridiculousness and open the door to a reverse layout of your apartment. You take your slippers off and follow the sound of his beautiful voice to a room with the door closed. You knock and he answers, finishing the song as your eyes meet his. 

“Girl, I'm here just waiting for you. Come on over, I'll adore you.”

The song ends and your smile turns to one of annoyance.

“You didn’t tell me when you were coming back. I waited all day wrapped up like a gift for you and honestly the least you could’ve done is write down a flight numbe - “ he shuts you up with a greedy kiss and you melt instantly as he pulls you closer. 

“What’s the gift? Do I get to see this divine chest I’ve heard rumors about?” He grins into the kiss, and you hold the laugh in. You step away from him and remove your shirt, showing off the extravagant set underneath. He lets out a strained groan. “You just don’t know how to warn a guy, do you? Get on the damn bed, Sparkles.” He snaps, pulling you into the room and shutting the door. The start of another intense night.

AN: yay open endings. Decide how it goes. Fwb? Lovey dovey? Have fun. Thank you for reading, I love you! 💜💜💜💜💜

[thescribeoflostmemories]

Valentine's nightmare

2.6k words

Prt2

Yan! Modern! Pantalone x Modern! Ex-idol! Reader x Yan! Modern! gangster! Childe

Using Childe's actual name

Tw: R18+, use of pet names/ using Sir, sexual themes(just a couple of crumbs), implied drug use, r18, bondage, death threats(implied), blackmail (kinda?), violation, knife play/food play, dub-con(?), allegations.

viewer's discretion is advised.

“I promised; that you and I are going to have a feast on the day of harvest. And we will have our fill of our chalice. A toast to our never ending baptism in sin and flaw. May we douse ourselves of greed's decadence, never again taste the light at the end of the tunnel.” - Scribe

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The meet and greet didn't go so smoothly, and you were expecting it. There are loads of questions that come to you about why you left. If you're being honest, your manager told you that'll be your last concert. You couldn't stop crying as you couldn't renew the contract as told by your lawyer.

Tears stained your pillow. You lived alone in a quaint little city you call home. You had posters of when your band first launched. Figurines decorated the acrylic stands with books, magazines or even that odd skull shaped paperweight next to it.

You recount all the terrible 'conspiracy theories' that made your stomach churn. Rumors to incite against you, it started when you climbed up the ranks. Other singers and staff members started to get into accidents. Your other teammates are cautious of you too, and it puzzled everyone.

"Mister fluffkins." Grabbing the stuffed toy next to the bed and hugging it. "Am I really a terrible person?" Rubbing your cheek with it. So silly, thinking a simple toy would answer you. "I guess, I do need some fresh air…" It doesn't hurt to go out once in a while.

So you change out of your clothes and freshen up. You have to say, it does feel nice to be out in the open like any other person. Nearly every store you went into has snippets of your band’s song. So you tried to avoid it to not let the situation get to you.

Lunch time, currently at the park bench eating some Ice cream. You had a couple of rolled cakes from a vending machine, maybe you should give one cake away.

"Hmm, maybe I should call up Childe. It has been a while." At least two months since you've last seen him, you're beginning to miss him.

Without her knowing, some group of thugs noticed her. Thinking it'll be some easy stuff to nab her. "Hey, missy. Need some company?" Sneered one with a baseball bat.

"Uhm… " You tried to ignore them but it only agro them.

"Miss, we'll be good to you.-"

"In what way, gentlemen?" You heard a familiar voice. From behind is Childe, who wrapped an arm around your neck.

"Huh, you're-" the ruffian's lackey seemed to notice Childe.

"The Tartaglia gang from down the lane right? Come here, girlie. Let's get away from these guys and I'll show you around. I'm sure you'll like to look at a beautiful scene instead."

" Wait, Juju. Let's just go-" one tried to pull your harasser away from the scene.

"don't ignore us, pretty boy! " He broke free and tried to punch the ginger haired man.

" Usually, I'd play a bit more. But in this case. Close your eyes and ears, girlie." He ordered before going in, dodging a punch by sidestepping. In comes another punch to the side from the thug. Childe decided to give an uppercut to end the charade in one fell swoop, causing the towering man to tumble over.

"Tell your boss, I'll be looking forward to that discipline of yours." You couldn't see it, but the lackeys know what he meant by discipline. Him beating the fuck out of them.

"Yes, sir! Sorry!" They scurry off, carrying their fallen ally. Childe turns to you and smiles.

"I told you to look away." He says walking over to you. You checked up on him for any hidden injuries, only for him to pull your hands away when you were about to check his shirt.

"Childe, what if you got hurt?" To which he replied with a hearty laugh.

"Awe, that's sweet of you to care so much about me. Pumpkin." You sighed and let go of him, scratching your head. Your ice cream got thrashed on the ground but at least some of your things aren't disturbed.

"Thanks, anyway, Childe." You thanked him

"Nah, no problem." An idea seemed to sparked in his mind and grabbed your hand.

" Oh yeah, ___. Are you free later this Saturday? "

A pit in your stomach made you furrow your brows together. "Childe, you've known me since high school." You sighed, and as usual he tried to ask you out.

" Please, a friend of mine told me to have a date by then. If I bring Tonya instead, he'll make fun of me." He pouted, which is kinda true. There would be one person who would jest that he didn't get a date, and his foster father would just try and set him up with someone's daughter he knows of.

" Please, I'll treat you with some of that (pref. Food) downtown after that!" He bowed his head and put his hands together, you're familiar with that hand gesture since he had mentioned he's friends with a guy from a certain area that's riddled with other gang members.

" Childe… " You sighed before giving your answer.

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" Childe! Slow down!" You screeched, holding onto his waist as tightly as possible. A few days have passed, after buying a brand new outfit for Childe's invitation. You felt uneasy about this, especially when you're nearly crying to dear life.

"Haha! Sorry ____, it's the fastest way to get there since you took too long to get ready! " With glee he takes such a thrill in the situation. Especially with you so close to him, he could feel your chest on his back. His heart was pumping in anticipation.

"Childe!" Cold wind hit your face as you closed your eyes and held on for dear life. Zooming past numerous people and a couple of warning signs to slow down. You both were lucky that the Police didn't seem to notice his speed limit.

Infront is a very fancy restaurant, your manager tried to take you to this particular establishment before you left. 'Poison ou Poisson' sounds pretty intimidating to you.

"You didn't tell me that it was this fancy." Now you feel silly wearing a simple dress.

"You're worrying too much, babe. He's understanding." He's never this dismissive to her, it only deepens her concern of this friend of hers.

"But Childe… " you mumbled as he pulled you into the restaurant where many eyes were placed on you from other customers and staff.

Nervous as a squirrel, you fiddle with your hands while Childe talks to the server.

Up came a man clad in black and hints of blues and purples. "Ah, 'Childe', welcome. And who is this lovely lady of yours?" The light lipped man kissed your hand. Velvet-y voice could lull you to sleep if he wanted. Blushing you replied, stuttering mess.

"That name sounds familiar, but nevertheless. It's a lovely name for a woman like yourself" He knows, yet coys with you.

"Th-thank you, sir..?" You noticed that he hasn't batted an eye due to his eyes covered by his lashes.

"Please, just 'Sir' is enough." As much as he would love to tell you his actual name. The bliss of hearing you say sir incites a hidden joy within him.

"Childe, why did you bring her here? I told you; 'come here at this date.' not with a date." The affluent man sighed, but not out of exasperation. Gloved hand partially covered his face before a twisted smile arose, hidden behind it. Overhearing their conversation from mister fluffkins's mic in her room while she's dressing up. So he had to hurry up and rent out the entire place and fill it with his own hand-picked staff so none would be the wiser.

"You told me last time." Childe, pouted. If you had known better, this would be considered an interactive, and elaborate play. Starring you as the protagonists' love interest.

"Gentlemen and Lady, your seats are ready." The waiter says.

" Let's go, you two." 'Sir' gestures for both Childe and you to come with him to the table. The most private table out of the rest.

The meal was silent for the most part, it only feeds your gnawing anxiety as it goes on. Occasionally, you'd see the bifocaled man eyeing you during the conversation while you eat the strawberries off the cake first.

"You liked strawberries, yes?" He said after placing the strawberry from his cake to yours. Childe went away probably to the restrooms.

"Here." He took a piece of his cake and offered his fork to you. You were hesitant with that, looking back at his face. That perturbed smile rests on his face, his eyes ever so slightly open.

"What's wrong? Is there something on my face?" His lips pursed a bit, his head tilted to one side. Curious, why you aren't that interested in the fruit nor the cake like you'd usually do.

"N-nothing, it's just that. You remind me of someone, yet at the same time I don't know anyone with your face nor voice." Which is true, but to be honest you pulled that out of your ass.

This thought alone entertained Pantalone, and his fox-like smile returned. "Hmm, maybe we did cross paths once." He pushed the fork gently to your ruby tinted lips.

"But that's no use to think about, try living in the now, little miss." He didn't want to open the wounds, hearing those cries in the night whenever you hugged mister fluffkins. It breaks his heart, he wishes to just pull you into his embrace and murder the bastards that dare whisper terrible things into your ear.

But now you're here, with him. Since he was so insistent with feeding you cake, you opened your mouth. He wondered what that candied lips of yours taste like, he had dreams of it every night.

There's chocolate sauce next to their plate, surely Tartaglia wouldn't mind if Pantalone took a bit of initiative. Dipping the fruit in the dark substance, and feeding it to her. Who hesitantly ate it and got some of the sauce on her lip.

"There's some chocolate.." He pointed at his own lip to where the dip had stained your perfect lips. Of course, you got a napkin and tried to wipe it off, successfully.

He got closer with his own napkin to wipe it off. "Silly, it's over here." There's a strong odor wafting from the napkin as he wipe the stain, inhaling it causing her to feel drowsy.

"Ah… "You hold on to Pantalone's hand, he looked surprised at the notion. "S-sorry but, I need to go now." Eyelids blinking slowly, as if fluttering to sleep. So you stood up and tried to walk away.

"I'm afraid I can't do that, my Rose." He managed to catch you as you nearly fell down. Everything's so dizzy and distant.

"Ajax, you simpleton! You were supposed to meet me alone!" You could hear Childe's faint voice from behind.

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"Oh my, she’s cute down there, but even cuter on my lap.” You're awake, but didn't dare to move, all you know is that you're restrained. Hands bound from behind, eyes blindfolded and your mouth gagged.

"You claim to know her personally, but do you really?" Pantalone hummed, a click of something and a couple of thuds. Are they playing a game while you're being held hostage? For what? There are other more wealthy people than you. You're nothing more than a fallen pop star sensation.

"Oh yea? Name that one guy who made her cry every night for four months." Childe seemed pissed as another satisfying click like glass was heard. He tsk'd, he probably missed and lost focus. But your ex-boyfriend from college? The one who left you for that one night hooker?

"Is that it? A toddler could answer that one. Try again, Ajax the lesser." You could have sworn you could hear him snigger at 'Childe'. Making the next player's chance at striking hit something out of frustration.

" Why you-! " Ajax broke something wooden.

“Then if you really know her, why did she get into the entertainment industry?” Pantalone crooned, as calm as you could picture him. He wouldn't dare to make a fool of himself in your presence.

"Oh… ohhhhh." Realization hits the skirmish loving man like a brick, or rather a cue stick from behind his head.

"Indeed, why not show her to just let us love her instead of her needing others' approval." Suddenly Pantalone's footsteps come over to you, caressing your cheek so lovingly. He knows.

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(DO NOT READ IF YOU'RE UNCOMFORTABLE WITH THE 'DESSERT' PROCEED TO THE NEXT LINE BREAKER)

"Look at her, so wet." Something tore your top part open like a knife then followed by hands groping you. "Mm." One moaned between your legs, like a starved man. His hands gripped on your thighs when you closed

Whimpers were muffled by a ball gag that they forced on you. Drool dripping down your chin, you could feel someone kissing your neck. "Gods… This is better than I imagined." Groaned what you assumed is Childe or Ajax rather, mouth pressed up to your clothed sex. Embarrassed, you tried to press together your legs to separate him and yourself. But it only pulled him closer, having to kiss and worship you.

"She loves it." The flirtatious man whom you've just met mumbled in your ear, fondling your exposed skin and leaving love marks on your neck from behind. Deft hand cut the underwear off letting Ajax dig in like an actual child getting their favorite meal. Amused as you writhe in a fraction pleasure of what they could do to you on his lap.

"Be a good girl and let us love you." The Regrator teased your ear before rubbing the little nub above your slit, he felt your body squirm against him. Undoing the gag before capturing your lips with his. Your legs stretched and toes curled in delight while it rests on Ajax's shoulder, haggard breaths and sob like whines echoed in the room.

"We have a long night ahead of us, Rose. You'll love it here." He groans when he feels you grinding against his crotch.

All you could do is mumble such nonsensical words, brain turning mush. Just hearing your satisfied indulgence, only pushes them to do more with you. The sweet scent from the incense fills your mind with one thing only.

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You did it, you escaped! Laughing and wailing at your new found freedom, laying in wait as you try to flee to your parents' home.

"What..?" You looked at them in disbelief.

"I'm sorry, ____. You need to find a husband, we're not always here for you." Your mother cried while your father looked away at the contract they signed their daughter away for.

Voices echoed in your mind, as bells chimed closer to your inevitable fate had in mind since the day you were born.

"You can't escape from us, darling Rose."

" From this point on, your husbands are going to take good care of you."

The things I do for y'all. Happy Saints and Souls day(s)

Tag: @youyue , @mellowwillowy

[trauma-aquarium]

Okay brace yourselves, folks, this is the story of how I discovered owls living in my stove exhaust thingy on the upper floor and how I saved them from death by the hands (claws) of crows, and they became my guardians.

It all started when I was in my backyard and by chance, saw an owl peeking at me from the exhaust outlet on the upper floor.

Sorry for the low quality I had to zoom a lot from my sorry excuse of a phone. 

Anyways, this is mommy owl and she had given birth to a lot of noisy kids which we could hear and smell (fowl smell) from the kitchen, and it was really hard to go to the upper floor without wanting to throw up. My father insisted we call someone and get the owls out and leave them in a yard or something.

What my father didn’t know was that me and my elder brother are softies when it comes to birds (he’s a softie for birds, i’m a softie for all animal-kind). So this man comes and after much struggle and a screeching mother (and a possible father), we manage to take out the owls.

And as you can see, they were very angry. These are the kids, mind you.

Anyways, me, the only one in the family with actual empathy for animals (and less empathy for humans bc why) and a brain that works when it comes to their care, I took these little owls to the balcony, quite close to the exhaust outlet you just saw, hoping their parents would come and maybe take them or whatever. Only then I realized that the parents themselves were smol, and couldn’t quite possibly take them anywhere. So here they are, in my balcony, defenseless, especially during the day.

And they were FIVE OWL BABIES. I was suddenly a single mother at the age of 20. 

Anyways, I pet them, they try to bite me and I’m okay with that, my softie brother also gets scared easily so he just watches me do my thing- that being making them feel comfortable and safe, providing food which they didn’t quite eat bc babies. 

But then I had to be on guard duty because of the damned crows who came in groups (freaking murder of crows) and tried to attack/literally murder or eat alive the poor babies. And I was having none of that.

In the hot month of May, I was on day duty scaring off crows and praying the mother would return at night. Oh, and she did. Probably cursed at me for wrecking her home (sorry but it was inevitable) and shouted at me to leave, and I did, fearing what tomorrow held.

But tomorrow was the same.

So the mother and the possible dad disappeared during the days, but the babies were active (somewhat) probably because of all the noise me and the crows made. I did my thing- petted them, gave them water, played with them if they felt like it. They gave me rashes but I was okay.

Days passed, and the owls were entering pre-teens (judging by how they started rebelling and fighting with each other) and finally came out of the little tub on their own. I felt so proud. Now they had the whole balcony all to themselves (and me, of course). And they were scared of me no more. I would help them in and out of the tub if they wanted. 

They would sleep near the stairs and I’d caress their heads and they’d give me a smile (no i didn’t imagine that). And the crows would come and they would get scared for a second and look like this:

Yellow eyes. So cute.

Anyways, the mother owl and I had an understanding now too. Where she previously used to scare me when sunset approached and screech at me, she would now simply come and sit at one of the wires in front of my house and watch me pet her children and say NOTHING. And then I would wave at her and go inside and she would come and feed her children. She wasn’t all that bad. And the possible father would guard or something- I could see them from downstairs if I walked in front of my house.

This whole ordeal lasted for two months before the kids were finally old enough to fly, and I may have cried happy tears. I thought it was over now- they would move away and we’d never see each other again. But then-

I saw this from my window, my room being downstairs (don’t mind the wires, it was to keep robbers out bc robbers suddenly decided our housing society was a good place to collect money from). So everyday sunset, I’d draw my curtains apart and they would come and sit right outside my window (look at how grown they are!) and we’d screech at each other which was our love language.

So whenever I went out for a walk, there would be 5 kids and sometimes, their mommy, my guardians now. They would walk with me (fly with me, actually.) They would jump from wire to wire and occasionally, when they didn’t feel shy, they would scoop really low, circle around me and go back.

Yes. I was their Disney Princess, and I fucking felt like it too.

I called them ‘my owl friends’. I’d go out at night, look around and say ‘my owl friends, where y’all at?’ and they would come, making weird owl noises, circle around me and walk with me.

It was truly magical, and though I’m a huge cat person, I wouldn’t mind living with owls (even though they’re extremely smelly sometimes and want to eat me sometimes bc meat).

Here’s a last cute picture of my owl besties

I love them so much. I moved houses (only like three streets away but the owls couldn’t have known... could they?) and had to leave them behind, but here’s where a plot twist happens.

I think they might have put in a good word about me in the owl community, because the owls- different ones- occasionally come by. And they only come to ME.

Like this one time I was in the front yard of my house and two owls paid a visit.

Or this one time I was walking in the park in front of my house and two owls circled around me, ignoring my mom and little brother, and sat on a tree, watching me the whole time.

Either I’m a Disney Princess or these owls are planning some weird shit. Whatever it is, I’m in for it.