#these are going to bankrupt me come fall

[expatesque]

Ferragamo, Fall 2023

[thetimelordbatgirl]

New school attendance rules (that are stupid as fuck) being published has me learning people didn't even know that the UK fines people for their kids not being in school unauthorized???

[airbenderedacted]

I really need to make a DNI sometimmMMEE

[sugoi-and-spice]

Vox Relationship Headcanons

Time to strike the iron while the hyperfixation is HOT!

(I mean come ON . Look at this fucking evil dork. I love him).

SFW

It goes without saying that Vox is HUGE on appearances. He does not make his relationships public lightly. His brand as one of the V’s after all is perfection, and he’s not going to go out arm and arm with a person unless they know that.

That being said, especially given his on again off again relationship with Valentino, I could absolutely see him as being the type to fall for a hot mess. 

A very different person with his partner in front of and behind the scenes. When the cameras are off, he’s warm, affectionate, and vulnerable. He’ll share his every insecurity with you, strip himself bare to the bone for you to love and comfort truly and honestly. And he’s an excellent listener too, always available to hold and talk through any problem you have. Your problems are his problems — you’ll work through them together.

When in the public eye however, he can be a downright prick — putting everything, and I do mean everything between you two on the backburner to keep up appearances. He will not hesitate to make jokes at your expense if it means his ratings will go up.

Fights with him are explosive. No, he’s not the type to lay a hand on you, but we’d be lying if we didn’t admit that he can scream at you within an inch of your life.

Words of Affirmation and Gift Giving are his primary love languages. Specifically, he needs words of affirmation and he loves to give gifts. And holy shit does he give the most uncomfortably lavish gifts. Diamonds, rolexes, new cars — no price is too high for his darling.

Surprisingly, he prefers home dates. Watching a movie on the couch or having a little game night with a bottle of wine. He does genuinely enjoy the authentic time you spend together and he wishes he could have more of it, so the more he can get of that private, intimate time together, the better.

And while he is a man of the future, so theoretically should like video games, I do think he has a certain soft spot for a good old-fashioned board game.

When it comes to video games though, he does tend to gravitate to phone games. 

Vox is from the 1950’s so I do think he prefers a more nuclear family and relationship dynamic. He wants to bring home the bacon and have his partner ready to fry it up in a pan with a dirty martini ready and waiting for him. That being said, he is a man that always looks to the future as well, so he’s by no means above doing chores of his own. At the end of the day, this desire for more traditional relationship roles really comes from a place of needing to be doted on rather than any views he actually has about gender.

The man’s a sucker for a good massage from his partner. This wired up workaholic has knots that you can’t even imagine, so please, offer him a nice bankrupt at the end of the day. He’ll be sure to return the favor tenfold.

A very lovey-dovey drunk. Oh my GOD, he’s so touchy-feely and weepy and just all the y’s. You want a guaranteed cuddle-wuddle session? Load him up with a couple glasses of scotch — you’ll have those chords coiling around you.

And yes, his alcohol of choice is scotch. Scotch, dirty martinis, or a nice oaky chardonnay.

This man wants to get married. Yes, even if he is in hell, the idea of not having to worry about who his next lay or source of connection will come from, having someone that will stand by his side through thick and thin, a partner? Now that’d be the (after)life.

NSFW

BIG fucking praise kink. This man NEEDS you to stroke more than just his bod and his cock, he needs you to stroke his ego too.

“God you’re so good”, “FUCK, you’re so big”, “Nobody can make me feel this way but you, Vox”.

Don’t worry, it’s not just for his own ego. He loves to give praise as much as he receives it. This man is a TALKER in the sack.

“Fuck, fuck yeah. Just like that, baby. You’re so fucking good, just like thaaaaat.”

He’s also got a little bit of a degradation kink — but in general, it still feeds into stroking his own ego. Loves to tease and taunt his partner once in a while about what a horny little slut they are, how he loves to see them so desperate and pathetic. Asking his partner, “you’d have anyone right now, wouldn’t you?” just for them to assure him that no, nobody but him will do.

On that note, the man can dish out degrading dirty talk, but he can NOT fucking take it.

Very much a switch. Sure, he loves to fuck, but he’ll just as happily let his partner bend him over his own desk and fuck the shit out of him. A good orgasm is a good orgasm, his ego may be big, but not big enough to get in the way of that.

Big fan of bondage, both on his partner and himself. There are few sights better to him than seeing his partner bound and shibari’d in his own cord and wires, holy shit. But he’ll also never say no when his partner breaks out their own pair of fuzzy handcuffs for him.

He absolutely short-circuits when he cums, so watch out. Sometimes, if he cums hard enough, he may just zap you a bit so watch out.

Favorite position is seated cowgirl. He loves the way he can hold his partner close while ramming as deep into them as possible. Not to mention the fact that either one of them can take over control at any moment. He can thrust up, they can grind down — it’s just the best of all worlds. Not to mention you can do it from his desk chair.

On that note, he’s a big BIG fan of cockwarming. 

LOTS of precum. This HD motherfucker is just a weepy mess.

I can’t explain why, but Vox just seems like an ass man to me.

He’s not necessarily a cuddler after, but he is something of a “savor the moment” kind of guy. He likes to lay in bed (or chair lol) with his partner for a good while afterwards, smoking a cigarette, reveling in some post-nut clarity conversation, just really taking in the moment. His life is so busy at all other times honestly, always looing and speeding to the future. Sex and post-sex are the times where he really does just like to stop and live in the moment.

[cloudsmateria]

high school slasher!kennedy x reader

you and leon in your senior year of a boarding high school, he finally goes insane in his final years, killing everyone who's horribly wronged him in this fucked, secret elite society establishment, a manipulator who's completely unhinged and needs you, but you find out.

this is a snippet of something im working on as a series, but i may not finish, enjoy this SPICY sample though, tell me what you think, PLEASE. and yandere undertones ofc.

Tough fingers gripped over your mouth, body forcing you into the wall while his eyes pierce yours, centimetres apart. Your quick breath blows onto his hands through your mouth and he can see the fear in your eyes. The knife is still in his left hand but he still looks as calm as he always is. Your blood is cold as it’s ice spreads and freezes your limbs, feeling the tears well up on your waterline.

Slowly, he leans up. Pressing a kiss against your forehead, mouth leading back to the side of your ear. 

“You shouldn’t have done that.” He whispers, his knifed hand pushing up your shirt, the blade gently dragging down. “Don’t disappoint me, sweetheart. Don’t scream.” He says, smiling warningly as the pressure from your mouth is relieved. You shut your eyes tightly, tilting your head up away from him, the first tear dripping from your face. 

“I trusted you.” Your voice shakes, expecting the sharp pain to meet your rib, his hand gently wipes your cheek. 

“I was never going to hurt you.”

“So what were you using me for then? As an alibi? Were you going to kill me last?” 

“You’re one of the only real people in this school, why would I throw that away?”

“I-”

“You like me don’t you?” He cuts off, Leon Kennedy is nothing but a manipulator, and you know you’re just as fucking stupid to fall for it again. Why are you even letting him open his mouth? Whatever comes out is a lie, a part of a his plan. 

“I don’t even know who you are.” He pushes you, and you fall back onto his bed, just like last night. His hands push up against your wrist, grabbing your hands, just like last night. The same butterflies hit your stomach, but it’s worse, it’s mixed with the nausea of it being a serial killer, the nausea of not knowing what’s happening, or what’s happening next. Fuck. 

You turn your head away from him, tears still coming down your cheeks as your face is flushed red. 

“This. Was real.” He breathes as his nose drags up your neck. “You know it was… So why, did you have to ruin everything?” He says, pressing his lips to your earlobe. “It doesn’t have to stop, I know you still want this. Who I am makes you want it more… I know you, Y/n.” 

“I didn’t know you were a fucking psychopath.” You whispered, even if he is right, you don’t want to accept it. “Why are you doing this to people?”

“You remember what I told you?”

“Just because these people are bad it doesn’t mean they deserve to die. They’re school children.” He laughed at your response. 

“The ones I’ve taken are 18, well over the age to think critically. These people don’t change, Y/n. Don’t you understand that yet? The headmaster, the staff, the student society. They were all here once, they leave, and they hurt people, every, single, time. Every single one. I’m not letting them hurt me again. Not me, not anyone else. They’ll be an example to the younger years.”

“But-”

“They’ve killed people. What’s so wrong with a taste of their own medicine? Don’t you think they deserve it after what they’ve done to me? Did I deserve to have my family bankrupted and killed?” His grip tightens considerably, your wrists aching, and more tears prick your eyes. He’s right, again. But this doesn’t feel right. “Did I?” He presses. 

You hesitate. “You didn’t.”

“What else could I have done?” He says, his face is as desperate as his voice, begging to be forgiven. His hands sliver up to your hands, holding them tightly, still keeping you down. Your heart hurts for him, what happens next you couldn’t stop yourself from doing, it was instinctual. 

“It’s okay, Leon. Calm down.”

“You understand me, right? They killed my family. I was 5.” The mention of his parents sets him off more, his face drops into your neck, letting go of your hands and wrapping them around your body. He’s shaking, his tears are wetting you, both sharing trembling breaths. 

“I… I understand… Leon, everything is okay. I understand.” You wrap your arms around him, rubbing his back.

“Fuck. I hate them, they don’t deserve anything.”

“It’s okay.”

“And to think you joined, the most perfect girl in the world. They could’ve hurt you. They would’ve hurt someone as sweet and quiet as you.”

[ynyaan]

𝙎𝙚𝙣𝙩𝙞𝙣𝙚𝙡 𖦹 | 𝐒𝐮𝐤𝐮𝐧𝐚 𝐑𝐲𝐨𝐦𝐞𝐧 𓆩♕𓆪

𝐍𝐀𝐕𝐈𝐆𝐀𝐓𝐈𝐎𝐍 | 𝐌𝐀𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐈𝐀𝐋 𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓 |

𝙈𝙤𝙙𝙚𝙧𝙣𝘼𝙐!𝙎𝙪𝙠𝙪𝙣𝙖 𝙭 𝙍𝙚𝙫𝙚𝙖𝙡𝙞𝙣𝙜𝘾𝙡𝙤𝙩𝙝𝙚𝙨!𝙍𝙚𝙖𝙙𝙚𝙧 | 𝙁𝙚𝙢!𝙧𝙚𝙖𝙙𝙚𝙧

Summary: You wear "revealing" clothing to a supermarket with Sukuna. Unfortunate to say, two strangers were not at all pleased. "Like hell, I'd let you touch her." He grits his teeth, watching the man in front of me kneel and wither in pain.

tw. you can change what you wear to what you please. In this fic though, it's described to give more context. Sukuna in his own body modern AU. Getting shamed; use of words: whore. Sukuna is violent as usual.

note. got emotionally personal here. I hope you find comfort in this fic as I did when I wrote it. <33

.ᐟ 𝙚𝙢𝙤𝙩𝙞𝙤𝙣𝙖𝙡 𝙘𝙤𝙢𝙛𝙤𝙧𝙩 𝙖𝙣𝙙 𝙩𝙚𝙚𝙩𝙝-𝙧𝙤𝙩𝙩𝙞𝙣𝙜 𝙛𝙡𝙪𝙛𝙛

Today was shopping day. You've finally run out of enough comfort foods to force you out of the house. You groan loudly in your room. You were wearing only your undergarments and were already getting tired of the idea of having to find clothes to wear.

a familiar face walks by your room. Sukuna stops and leans on your door, his eyes observing your lazy state. "C'mon brat. Dress pretty. I'll take you out after shopping."

Your head snaps excitedly to Sukuna. It was rare of him to invite you out, especially since you were both so busy all the time. You simply just cherish the swift time at home cuddling and whatnot. Sukuna smirked at your reaction. Satisfied, he left to give you time to choose and change clothes.

After much consideration and throwing closet clothes on the floor, you decided to wear something showy, a cropped tee with its ends tied, a plaid skirt that falls above your knees, paired with a small bag and boots. You choose your accessories, put on a touch of makeup, and then you are good to go. "Kuna~!" You sing.

As you walk out the door, you find Sukuna looking at his phone and then quickly looking at you. You twirl, showcasing your outfit as he smiles. He walks towards you and grabs you by the waist. "How awful. My princess dolled up so pretty." He grins, his grip on your waist secure, leaning in for a kiss.

You stop him with your hand. "No. Kuna' we all know what a kiss will lead to," You pout, and Sukuna laughs silently on your skin. "Now, come on, I expect you to take me on to a charming night!"

The supermarket was the same as ever. Customers minding their business, the sound of cashier ringing in the distance, and stocks of your comfort foods.

"Ahh, there you are. I've missed you." You gleam at the snacks in front of you. Snack's destined to be finished within the week. You were left alone for a bit since Sukuna usually parts with you to grab things he needs as well.

By "needs," he grabs excessive amounts of food that would leave you bankrupt if you didn't pick through them every time you passed by him.

"Hey there." Suddenly, someone taps your shoulder. You turn your head to see two guys standing in front of you.

"Hello, do you need help with anything?" you smile politely.

"Ugh, seriously?" The first guy sneers. You tilt your head at him, hoping that comment wasn't directed at you.

"Dude, she's totally leading us on. Did you see that snarky smile?" The other guy says. Your eyebrows bridged together. Just your luck to be left in an aisle with these two idiots, huh?

"Sorry, you're getting the wrong idea-" You get cut off by a hand that warmly placed itself on your shoulder.

"You know em'?" Sukuna's voice was husky and low, gesturing his head towards the two men.

"Not really—“ Before you could finish explaining, The second guy from behind steps in, "Dude, you should really cover your girl up." He comments.

"Yeah, like, the way she looked at us earlier? damn, I almost mistook her for a whore." The other one added. Your heart sank at the disgusting comments made by them. You placed both your hands on your skirt, your basket resting on your arm. You actually felt confident to wear something like this because you knew Sukuna would be with you, you knew Sukuna would approve of it, and you knew YOU would feel good as well.

"Ha." your thoughts get cut off by Sukuna's voice. If looks could kill, indeed. You knew this situation would escalate, and really, all you want is a smooth, relaxing evening with your lover.

You raise your hand high enough for them to notice, "I'm sorry, you really got the wrong idea—“ Suddenly, the first guy tries to grab you by extending his hand swiftly, but before his fingers could reach you, Sukuna stops him by the wrist.

The next thing you hear is the painful cry and a loud snap. Sukuna broke his wrist all while his other hand was still secured onto your shoulder.

"Like hell, I'd let you touch her." He grits his teeth, watching the man in front of me kneel and wither in pain. The second guy wasted no time and launched at Sukuna, only for him to be dodged and punched right in the nose.

People started clamoring around, and you could already hear security calling backup.

"Sukuna, let's go." You urge him but not waiting for a response. You grab his hand, and you drop your basket. You run.

You were both parked at a nearby park, immediately driving away after leaving the supermarket. "You really didn't have to do all that ryo'." You softly say, inspecting the hand that he used to punch the guy.

"Besides, it's my fault. I should've dressed more modestly." You muttered under your breath. But He heard it.

"Don't ever fucking say that again." He grits his teeth. You look up at him, surprised by the sudden anger in his tone. His expression was tense, worried? maybe even a gloss of tears, if you will.

He moves his hand to push strands of hair behind your ear. It was soft, so painfully gentle. "People like that don't deserve to live. They don't deserve to have eyes nor mouths." He rambles, cupping your cheeks and kissing everywhere.

"If they were decent people, they wouldn't even think of looking at you like that, darling. They are delirious, annoying, little shits, who have nothing to do but try and push people down." He holds your hand firmly, his gaze unflinching.

"you will not be knocked down, my love. They do not deserve the space in your mind to bring you down." He lowers his head and kisses the back of your hand.

You exhale. You exhale and smile.

"I love you," he says. He looks so unbelievably beautiful.

You squeeze his hand gently before replying, "Thank you, kuna’. I love you too."

He smirks, a playful grin places itself on his lips. "That's my girl."

"I supposed we'll be banned there, won't we?" You ask, remembering the reason why you were in the supermarket anyway.

He scoffs, "Whatever, i'll ask someone else to do it for us." Sukuna grumbles, kissing the tip of your nose.

He leans back and starts up the car again, "Right now, you deserve a date."

───⋆⋅☆⋅⋆── 𝐼'𝓁𝓁 𝓈𝑒𝑒 𝓎𝑜𝓊 𝓁𝒶𝓉𝑒𝓇 <𝟥

[kiryoutann]

𝐁𝐀𝐋𝐋𝐄𝐑𝐈𝐍𝐀! 𝐀𝐔 𝐡𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐜𝐚𝐧𝐨𝐧𝐬 ::: 𝐒𝐈𝐌𝐎𝐍 "𝐆𝐇𝐎𝐒𝐓" 𝐑𝐈𝐋𝐄𝐘

A MAN'S HEART IS TRULY A WRETCHED, WRETCHED THING MASTERLIST. CALL OF DUTY MASTERLIST.

Ballerina! reader, who focus too much on technical perfection rather than the artistic value of the performance.

Ballerina! reader, who was chosen to be the prima ballerina for Swan Lake.

And ballerina! reader, who is nicknamed a "robot-ballerina" from how she has no "soul". Whispers say you've sold it to the devil. So, how can a soulless ballerina play Odette and Odile well, then?

The director said, "Fall in love, my darling! That's your way to touch Odette! To stop being soulless."

But, little did he know, that ballerina! reader do not fall in love.

Ballerina! reader who meets Simon under the awnings of a bankrupt cafe, in the middle of the nasty storm of London.

Big, over-six-foot guy, in a black leather jacket that did little to hide the width of his shoulders. At first, you're pretty intimidated - is he going to kidnap you?

Ballerina! reader, who follows Simon to the pub to shelter from the rain. "No sense waiting in the wet," he said in his heavy accent.

Ballerina! reader, who is quite awkward with people—only having one or two people she could consider friends - your mother counts. You end up giving out your real name and address in your attempt to create a topic, thinking he'll take advantage of the stupidity.

Simon didn't. Luckily, Simon didn't. He is a pretty quiet guy, doesn't use his big stature for bad things.

The night you met, you and him talked about small things. Your job, his job – turn out he's in the military—somehow that wasn't surprising; Maybe you've long been judging by his slightly crooked nose (definitely has been broken several times), and the old scars around his jaws when he takes off his mask to take a sip of whatever he ordered.

Despite his height and build, Simon was anything but dangerous. It's natural for you to hope to see him again, right?

And when the second meeting comes, you invite him to your house. Something about it screams stupidity, vulnerability - danger.

But, how can he do all that when he holds you tightly like a good lover? As if full of love as he placed his lips on yours, tracing every inch of your skin as if in worship.

Laid bare, you are. With your pleading love-me eyes—the gaping mouth of a virgin begging for someone to pour love into it until it hits the back of her throat, swallowed without a trace – “let me wash my esophagus with this. So that my future lovers don't find out how unlovable I am.”

Ballerina! reader, who is starved for touch and love.

And when the third meeting arrived, you've gone too deep to pull away.

Ballerina! reader, who loosens her strings, only to sever them completely. Boundaries and lines begin to blur without you realizing it.

What started out as just giving him your phone number—“in case you or I need each other to… you know,”—then a text or two more when he was “away,” then a call, then a habit of receiving random texts and pictures (him feeding a cat on deployment, you and your calluses, Simon not understanding why you bought new pointe shoes just to break them, the scarecrow that reminds him of you and your tutu), and the new “why didn’t you call me when you were away?” protest when he went completely radio silent in this new deployment.

Ballerina! reader, who has the determination to embody Odette - "Fall in love, my darling! That's your way to touch Odette! To stop being soulless" and chooses Simon, of all people, to fall in love with.

Ballerina! reader, who ends up falling in love with Simon-fucking-Riley, the owner of the most despicable heart a man has ever had.

Ballerina! reader who thought she could keep this casual (as Simon wanted), and ended up confessing her love in the end.

Ballerina! reader, who then realizes what a grave mistake that was. How stupid she was to put her heart first as if it were important, as if she hadn't spent her whole life ignoring it.

Ballerina! reader, who immediately noticed the difference in Simon’s expression and behavior. The man stretched his long legs in wide strides as he gathered his few belongings from his apartment, saying “that wasn’t our deal, love,”

Ballerina! reader, pathetically crying, begs Simon to keep her in his life, not to cut her off—to stay. She promises, vows, not to say she loves him; that Simon could come and go as he pleased as long as he wouldn't leave her forever.

But, he left anyway.

Ballerina! reader, who finds Simon leaving with another woman in his arms a few days after. Beautiful, confident, and not you.

And yes! Yes, you have succeeded in embodying Odette, Odile too! But, at what cost? Your defense: art is created from the blood of the artist. And yet, good God, how long will you have to bleed? He wasn't here to see this performance, to see the scars that he probably thought were some kind of tapestry.

Simon, who turned down Soap's invitation to go to the pub after the mission, says he has "some play about swans" ticket to use; the Scot scoffs, saying he never thought his big, bad, Lt. would be interested in ballet.

Simon came to your big performance. Straight from the airport after returning from a long deployment.

Swan Lake. That ballet he never understood, but he knew the story line and remembered how your eyes lit up when you told it over and over to him while being in his embrace.

You know those letters they force soldiers to write to people back home just in case they don't make it back?

Ballerina! reader, who thought she was worth nothing to Simon, but after years of not writing letters (because he had no one to receive them), the first letter he wrote was to you.

Simon who thinks you deserve better than him, doesn't know that despite everything, even the better one doesn't mean anything if it's not him.

Simon thought, all the love he had - no matter how big or deep, it was worth nothing.

But, unfortunately that doesn't change the fact that in his wild fantasies about a kinder world, you are the only one he wants. He doesn't believe in the Apocalypse, but sure as hell you'll be the one next to him as the Earth runs to the ground.

Perhaps, he’s too young to keep good love from going wrong.

What was it all for? A punishment? A penance? The need to always keep himself away from the good things in life, to continue to believe that he was created to be bitter and sour. Alone. Miserable.

He knows no end in desiring you, neither does his self-sabotage.

And when he saw you on that stage, his mind kept repeating "it's worth it, it's worth it" that he did this all for you, for the best. But, in fact, this is all just a sick tendency to remain rough, to suffer.

In the end, you and Simon are just two liars on display like show dogs.

SUPPORT ME THROUGH KO-FI! CHECK MY WRITING COMMISSION.

[literaila]

the waiter

tasm!peter x reader 

summary: 

"the waiter was flirting with you"  

"what?"

"he couldn't stop staring at you. i thought his eyes were going to fall out of his head." 

warnings: pure fluff, baby. 

"hey," peter whispers to you, a bit urgently. 

you don't look up from your menu, thinking fanciful thoughts of bankrupting peter. "hmm?" 

"we have to go." 

you look up, frowning. 

peter's got an urgent look on his face. his frown matches yours. 

if he didn't look so disturbed you might take the moment to appreciate the shirt he's wearing, sleeves rolled up past his forearm. you might even stare a little bit. 

but peter is frowning. and there is something wrong. 

"what?" you ask him, looking around. "what's going on?" 

"we have to leave." 

peter does not elaborate any further, because why would he? 

"okay..." you drawl, blinking at him. "why?" 

you look out the window to your left for any incoming disasters. if there was a possibility that anyone in this restaurant were to get hurt, you're sure peter wouldn't be just sitting there, waiting to have a conversation about death. 

but there's no monster outside. no robberies. no impending doom that he might need to tend to. 

your brow furrows even deeper. you stare at him, expectant. 

"the waiter was flirting with you," peter mutters, casting a glance toward the man on the other side of the restaurant. 

the man who you thought was perfectly pleasant, thank you very much. 

"what?" 

"he couldn't stop staring at you. i thought his eyes were going to fall out of his head." 

you snort, a bit confused. "peter," you say, a strange sort of smile on your face. "what?" 

"if i have to watch him drool all over you again, i might spontaneously combust."  

you close your menu, staring at him. 

"i'm serious, babe, we have to go." 

"we already ordered bread. and drinks." 

"i'll pay triple however much that cost. the waiter gets no tip," peter furrows his brows, considering. "okay, fine. he gets fifteen percent." 

"how chivalrous." 

"baby," peter whines, like a child. you might find it a little bit cute. "please? i'm having a hard enough time already." 

"what?" you frown. "why?" 

he blinks at you. does a slow up and down your body, raising his eyebrows. 

you think back to hands that had lingered on every inch of skin they could find on the way there. about eyes that could've burned you to the core. 

"oh," you cross your arms, self-conscious. "i thought you were kidding earlier when you said that--" 

peter stares at you blankly. 

"okay. not kidding."

his head drops down to the table, and if not for his muffled voice you might hear him groan. 

"leaf pile," you coo, softly. "i think it'll be alright. i'll even hold your hand when he comes back over." 

peter does not budge at the nickname, but you snicker internally, reaching a hand out to mess up his hair. 

he sits up, fixing it with a frown--as if it's at all salvageable. 

"is this what we've come to?" peter asks you, shaking his head. "you have to bribe me with affection? you only want to hold my hand to turn away the poor waiter--" 

"it's always been like this." 

peter points a finger at you. "not true." 

you scoff. "on our first date you tried to get me to stay up all night so we could watch the sunset--" 

"--that would've been romantic." 

"--and i had to bribe you with a goodnight kiss. just so you would let me go home." 

peter smiles like he's still pleased with himself. "you didn't want to leave. i was trying to help." 

"you just wanted to make out on the subway." 

"that's disgusting," peter says, looking away from you finally. his menu is still open, on the table, waiting to be looked at. "we could go to the diner across from your apartment."

"we went there last week." 

"great service," peter says, nonchalantly. 

"this is supposed to be a fancy date, peter." 

"what's fancier than sharing a milkshake?" 

"crème brûlée." 

peter purses his lips, a hand going to scratch at his lips. there are about ten seconds of silence. 

you use it to stare at him and wonder how he could possibly feel intimidated by anyone else. 

"fine," peter says, "we'll order dessert to go. and then we'll go get pizza." 

you open your mouth. close it. 

"you like pizza," peter reassures you. 

"i also like having a nice dinner with my boyfriend." 

"that can be arranged." 

you sigh. "even if we order dessert to go, we'll still have to talk to david again." 

peter gawks at you. "you know his name?" 

"he literally introduced himself. it was the first thing he said." 

"you remembered his name?" 

you wave a hand. "peter. you don't need to be jealous. maybe he just saw something on my face." 

peter sits back and crosses his arms. he raises an eyebrow at you, to which you smile back innocently. 

he says i know what you're doing without the words. 

"there's nothing on your face," peter says, dryly. "besides pure perfection." 

you giggle. 

peter runs a hand through his hair, shaking his head. "you're right," he relents, sighing. 

"it's okay, baby, like i said--" 

"it doesn't matter where we go," peter interrupts. "everyone's going to stare at you anyway." 

"...not where i was going with that." 

"i guess i just need to accept reality." 

"i don't think--" 

"i mean," peter finally looks you right in the eye, a hint of a smile playing on his face. "how lucky am i?" 

your face goes blank, for just a moment. 

and then, completely despite yourself, you smile at him, skin tingling at the intensity of his stare. 

of his teasing and gentle laughter as he smiles back. 

and, really, it's not your fault that you have to lean across the table to kiss him. 

he's just so goddamn irresistible. 

after a couple of seconds--and an ahem from the table beside you--you sit back down, opening your menu once again. you smile while you try and decide what to eat. 

and try to come up with the perfect way to get peter back for all of that. you've gotten as far as thanking the waiter profusely when he comes back. 

it's only a minute later when he whispers to you: 

"can i at least order the most complicated thing on the menu just to mess with him?" 

*

my masterlist here.

tags: @moonlarking-blog​​ @v1ci0us​​ @preciousbabypeter​​ @alexxavicry​​ @directioner5life​​ @inthegetawaycarwithtaylah​​ @localrockstargf​​  

[ddarker-dreams]

The Good Ol' Days.

Yan Alhaitham x F Reader x Yan Kaveh.

Warnings: Yandere themes, unhealthy relationships and implied kidnapping. Word count: 2.1k.

The sweeter the past, the more bitter the present.

“Seriously, this isn’t fair! Let her roll again!”

“I’m not sure what you expected from a game that revolves around chance.”

You've heard this before, you think. Not the exact verbiage, no, but the sentiment strikes a chord. Plucks at your heartstrings in a familiar melody. 

“Well, fine, let me lend her some of my money then.” 

“First, we both know that’s against the rules; and second, even if you sold your single Mondstadt property, you wouldn’t have enough to cover the charge. Your strategy of holding out in case you land on a Waypoint is as brilliant as ever.” 

The hot passion met by cool indifference that leaves you forces you into the mediator role. This position was specially formed for you, shaped in such a way that no one else could ever fit. Consequently, it adheres to your person too well, you can’t go forward or backward. You’re stuck. The more you struggle, the tighter your restraints become. 

“You…! I won once, when I got all four Waypoints. It’s a viable tactic. Right, [First]? Don’t you remember how huffy he was the night he came in last? … [First]?”

When opposing temperatures meet, condensation forms. 

“... You’re crying,” Kaveh sounds as if he’s seen a ghost, but it’s only you. “Is something wrong?” 

The better question would be what isn’t wrong. He won’t ask that, though, so you’ll never get to properly answer. You sit as still as a statue on the couch. From your display stand, you sense you’re being stared at by two sets of eyes, one distraught, the other scrutinizing. The former comes from your left and the latter from across the table. 

Kaveh’s hands cup both sides of your face. He wipes away the few wayward tears with the pad of this thumb, his eyebrows pinching together. Wordlessly, Alhaitham gets up from his cushion on the floor and takes his place by your right side. Their towering forms seal you in place. 

“You made her cry,” Kaveh accuses, his eyes narrowing. “You should’ve just let me go bankrupt for her.” 

“For someone who claims I have the emotional intelligence of a rock, you can be rather dense yourself. I sincerely doubt that has anything to do with this.” 

“Then why is she—” 

“I remember,” you somehow manage to squeeze the words out of your tight throat. Their attention returns to you. Your next words come out quietly. “That game, I mean. When you won. You had another glass of wine to celebrate, and… kept drunkenly throwing your victory in Alhaitham’s face. You slept through your alarm the next morning and missed a meeting with a high-profile client.” 

“Oh, yeah, that’s right,” Kaveh nods along slowly. He’s using that gentle, soothing tone from when this nightmare began and he didn’t want to upset you further. You can tell he’s trying desperately to follow along despite not having the directions necessary.

“After that, you started a campaign to not speak to Alhaitham until he apologized, but he didn’t even realize you were ignoring him,” the sound you let out is in between a choked sob and laugh. Kaveh’s arms fall limp as if they’ve lost all strength. “He told me… ‘Lately, Kaveh is more tolerable to be around’, or something like that.” 

You hug your knees to your chest. “Since you weren’t willing to talk to Alhaitham, you’d have me relay messages. It was silly. Eventually, I got you guys to make amends. It was like pulling teeth though. Heh. Thinking about it now, I can’t help wondering how many times I dug my own grave.” 

Kaveh softly speaks your name, but Alhaitham finds words before he can.

“So that’s what this is about,” Alhaitham notes. When you first met the brilliant Scribe, you mistakenly interpreted his rationality for apathy. You know better now. If he were truly disinterested, he wouldn’t bother stringing words together, curt as they may be. “Dwelling on the past only leads to unnecessary grief.” 

Kaveh sends a halfhearted glare in Alhaitham’s direction. “What he means to say is that you shouldn’t blame yourself.” 

“Because it wouldn’t have changed anything?” You question, staring deep into Kaveh’s eyes, their color reminiscent of the burning sun setting over the desert. 

He averts his gaze and swallows thickly. “Well…” 

“What he wants to say is that yes, it wouldn’t have mattered,” Alhaitham chimes in where Kaveh is hesitant to. Such is the nature of their dynamic when you’re involved — barbed truths or coddling lies. “The future we were envisioning had already been decided.” 

“The condemned can’t condemn themselves, huh?” You chuckle mirthlessly. 

They both frown. 

“You aren’t condemned, you’re— you’re free from having to worry about those things you used to stress over. Rent, bills, deadlines, you know. The worst parts of life. You can focus on your passions without any restraints now,” Kaveh reasons. Or so he tries. 

You gnaw on your lower lip. It’s been a while since you’ve bothered arguing with either of them on the subjects that truly matter, those topics have been deemed taboo. You can complain about Kaveh’s clinginess when he’s drunk or how tight Alhaitham holds you at night, but should you try to steer the conversation toward your captivity, it’s shut down. Kaveh makes you wish you never brought it up whereas Alhaitham instills regret that you dared to try. 

They’re both bracing themselves, you can feel it in the air. Sitting and awaiting a tempest of emotions that one will try to soothe and the other wave away. 

You think about fighting then remember why you stopped, falling into this limbo of existing without living. 

You could challenge Kaveh’s weak point. Demand to know why he doesn’t do the same then, never leaving the four walls of Alhaitham’s house, committing himself wholly to drawing up blueprints. Alhaitham might make some dry comment that he wouldn’t allow Kaveh to leech off him, or maybe Kaveh would apologize, and say that he didn’t intend to upset you. He would mean it too. You’d cry, beg, scream until your throat was raw and your voice scratchy, but in Alhaitham’s own words, it wouldn’t have mattered. 

Their minds are made up. Their resolve is an unshakable foundation upon which your gaol is built. In the same way they soundproofed the house, so too are their hearts insulated from any argument that’d champion your cause. You tried and failed and tried and failed again. 

At least if you don’t try, you won’t experience failure. 

“... Alright.” 

They exchange brief looks. 

“Alright?” Kaveh parrots the word, but without matching your listless tone. “That’s— oh. Huh. Okay.” 

He mumbles the last few words to himself, as if trying to process them aloud. You can’t fault him for his confusion. 

It’s silent then, the kind that holds weight. You uncurl yourself from your protective shell. You feel like a specimen being subjected to naturalistic observation, neither researcher willing to interfere, lest it negatively influence their data’s results. There’s a lot you can get used to — you had no other choice, really — yet that never fails to make you uncomfortable in your own skin. Unwilling to endure it any longer, you quickly form an escape plan. 

“Well,” you start, earning their rapt attention, “I think I’m going to, uh, call it a night.” 

You stand up as you say this. There’s a light pressure on your wrist, chaining you in place. 

“Stay,” Alhaitham’s voice urges. Your muscles go taut, then you hear a subdued sigh. “If you don't mind.” 

Kaveh must’ve given him quite the nasty look for Alhaitham to get that close to saying please. You sit back down, almost in a trance, as if the Scribe had cast a spell. Glancing down, you realize it’s Alhaitham who grabbed your wrist. He doesn't let go when you situate yourself back into place. 

Kaveh takes his chance to tether you as well. Lithe arms encircle you, gently pulling you into him. The side of your face presses against his chest, his bare skin exuding copious amounts of heat. He smells familiar, for this scene is familiar. Desperation with a hint of citrus and spice. He cradled you a lot in the beginning, shushing your sobs and drying your tears. At first, you’d resist, flailing your limbs wildly like you were a feral cat. Inevitably, his strength and stamina outlasted yours. 

His nose brushes against the crown of your head. “I care about you more than I could ever properly convey. Whatever you’re thinking, I can take it. Er, we can take it. I’d prefer that over you blaming yourself for anything.” 

Dazedly, you nod. He goes quiet, then, preparing himself for an onslaught you can bring yourself to unleash. Seconds bleed into one after another. You hear the furious pounding of Kaveh’s heartbeat. How if you twist your body, his breath hitches in his throat. It’s nice to know that at least his body will always be honest with you where his well-meaning words fall short. 

“You’re trying to regain a semblance of control by thinking ‘had I done this, or had I not done that, it wouldn’t have ended up this way.’” 

Kaveh exhales sharply through his nose. “Alhaitham, that’s enough.” 

“Let me finish,” he continues. His fingers creep onto your chin and take your face captive. He peels you away from your position against Kaveh, who stubbornly refuses to relinquish his grasp on your torso. Alhaitham’s countenance is close to yours so as not to leave any room for you to cower away. Those analytical eyes that can pick apart the world have you in their sights. “Do you know why you’re here, [First]?” 

In the past, when you struggled with an assignment or class, the infamously disinterested Alhaitham would take it upon himself to tutor you. He was a fair yet strict teacher. On those long nights spent hunched over a messy desk, he’d have a different air about him. He stretched you. In the moment, it felt like he was demanding more than what you could provide, but upon further reflection, he just knew what limits you could be pushed to better. 

“I’d like an answer.” 

You take a deep, shaky breath. “Because you both claim to hold some sort of affection for me.” 

Kaveh would look like a kicked puppy if you said this to him. It’s Alhaitham, though, and his composure is infallible. 

“Word it however spitefully you want, you get the gist of things,” he drawls. The intensity behind his gaze is enough to make you shiver. “If nothing you’ve been able to say or do has changed our mind now, why would it have back then? It might feel good to sulk, but your logic is erroneous. You’re making yourself miserable only to see if this wallowing is more palatable than the kind you’re used to.” 

You hate when Alhaitham’s right. It’s a shame he so frequently is. 

“Can you blame me?” 

“... No,” he admits. “But this proto-nihilism is worse for your mental well-being than anything else you’ve tried so far. I’d like to nip it in the bud.” 

Your smile is thin and far from kind. “Because it makes you uncomfortable?” 

“I’ll leave that to your overactive imagination to decide.” 

He relinquishes his grip on you, leans back into the couch, and crosses his legs. That posture positively irks you. Sparks from kindling flitter throughout your being like confetti. 

“Seriously, you have no tact,” Kaveh rests his chin atop your head. “They should study you in a lab somewhere.” 

“Says the one who’s taking advantage of [First]'s emotional vulnerability to cling to her like a parasite.” 

“Hey! Don’t listen to him, [First]. He’s just being a grump. You don’t think that’s what I’m doing, right?”

“I’d like to roll again,” you adopt a sickeningly sweet tone while addressing Alhaitham. “Please.” 

“... Right? [First]?” Kaveh tries again.

Alhaitham speaks up before you can even consider entertaining the whining male behind you. “And why should I bend the rules for you?” 

You lean forward with enough momentum that you’re able to break free from Kaveh’s grasp. Newfound vigor burns inside you. Perhaps a day will come when it extinguishes, but as for now, the flame ignites anew. Hot and ready to burn. 

Your lips brush against Alhaitham’s ear. “Are you afraid of losing?” 

He looks at you from the corner of his eyes, bemusement evident. The start of a smirk dances on his lips. 

“Not at all. Roll as many times as you please.” 

And so you cast the die again. 

Come what may — an unlikely win, tense truce, or total loss — you refuse to capitulate without trying.

[cosmichorrorsarestillnicerthanme]

Might I ask for the Phantom Thief Girls with an S/O who flips a coin to make decisions? Yes, this idea came from that Rune Factory 5 post from @genshingorlsrevengeance however, I am ninety percent sure that if any more asks are added to his inbox it will collapse into a singularity and devour him. Also, I want to see your twist on it since you and him are two of my faves when it comes to character x reader writing.

Thank you for the kind words, however I am sure Chris could have done this better than I, even if he had to do so from the void after his Inbox ate him, nonetheless, I still gave it my best try and I hope you enjoy.

The temptation I had to make Baofu/Kaoru Saga jokes and references throughout all of writing this was immense.

Also, Two-Face wants his gimmick back.

Now! Your Wish Is My Command!

Ann found the coin to be… interesting.

The loud Ting when you flipped it always caught her attention.

Heads or Tails?

Black or Red?

Yes or No?

On one hand it was irritating when she lost.

On the other, the tension of making a split second decision of what to call when the coin goes up was exhilarating.

Especially when she called the right side.

-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-

The coin hung in the air for a split second as you opened your palm to catch it.

Ann’s eyes were firmly on the coin, as were yours.

It was time to make the decision.

Heads?

Tails?

What to choose?

“Heads!” Ann exclaimed excitedly.

“Tails!” you exclaimed with a grin as the coin began to fall and land in your palm.

Ann let out a cheer.

You chuckled and gave a mental apology to your wallet as you rolled the coin into the space between your fingers and then over your knuckles before tossing it to your other hand and then placing it into your pocket.

The coin landed on heads, the red side that depicted a smiling Jester's mask in gold.

“It’s decided! You’ll be taking me out to get as many sweets as I want!” Ann exclaimed with a mischievous smile.

Don’t worry, she won’t bankrupt you.

Probably.

Makoto was not a huge fan of the coin.

Sure, it added some flair to day to day life.

However, Makoto was not a big fan of leaving things to fate.

Especially when it comes to important decisions.

That said… It did help her when she was indecisive about something.

When she hesitated to act or did not know what choice to make, she would always see the glint of the coin in her vision and the sound of the Ting it made when you flipped it.

She knew what the answers were.

Heads or Tails.

Yes or No.

It forced her to make a decision.

Will she take the leap?

Or will she err on the side of caution.

No matter what side the coin landed on, she knew what her answer was.

And you know that too.

So, no matter how much she pestered you about the answer the coin gave you, you would never tell.

-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-

“Tell me.” Makoto demanded with a rather petulant whine as the two of you sat on the couch, watching TV and awaiting for Sae to return.

“Hmmm… I think not.” you said with a mockingly thoughtful face.

“Then flip the coin!” Makoto exclaimed, the outcome of the previous toss eating at her like nothing else.

You smirked before teasingly asking “I thought you disliked the coin toss?”

This earned you a solid wallop to the shoulder.

“Ow! Okay! Okay! Yeesh! I’m going to tell Sae about this domestic abuse when she gets back.” you muttered as you pulled the coin out from behind Makoto’s ear with a simple bit of sleight of hand.

“If you do, you know she’s going to side with me, right?” Makoto asked as you rolled the coin over your knuckles and into place over your thumb.

“We’ll see.” you said with a grin and then flipped the coin, sending it flying.

“Heads!” Makoto exclaimed.

“Tails!” you stated with a smile.

The coin came down and into your hand.

Makoto promptly grabbed you by the shoulders and screamed into your chest.

It landed on the black side, tails, with a frowning golden jester's mask facing up.

Futaba was sure you were cheating somehow with your tosses.

She could do the math that told her the outcome of the toss in her head with ease.

And yet, with every toss, it almost never went the way she expected.

Every time she would smugly declare her choice, confident in her answer, it would land on the opposite side.

She had no idea how you were doing it, but you HAD to be cheating.

She was tempted to try and strangle the answer out of you.

Alas, she was afflicted with the most terrible of curses.

Weak Nerd Arms.

So, she had to try different means.

-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-

Futaba turned the coin over in her hand, examining it closely at her desk while you smugly watched her doing so as you sat on her bed.

Futaba was getting irritated.

There were no imperfections on the coin, nothing that could skew the results that her math gave her.

She had even examined how you did it!

No sleight of hand, no tricks, nothing!

Futaba placed the coin atop her thumb and flipped high into the air with a solid Ting reverberating through the room, already doing the math in her head.

“Heads!” you declared with a smile.

“Tails!” Futaba exclaimed confidently.

Half a second later, Futaba threw the coin at you as fast and hard as she could.

You caught the pathetically weak lob with ease as Futaba slammed her head into her desk.

“Life Is Not Daijoubu.” Futaba muttered.

“Aww, I love you too.” you said smugly before walking over to kiss the top of her head.

Haru absolutely loved the coin.

Every second of her life had been planned out before she met you.

But now?

Things were random, left to chance.

It was exhilarating!

Why, it almost brought her as much joy as hearing the Shadows beg for mercy!

Not to mention the antics the coin could cause.

Several yes’s in a row and then a no to change it all.

The solid Ting The coin made whenever it was sent to the sky never failed to send a tingle down her spine.

Random chance leads to strange occurrences, strange occurrences leads to interesting decisions.

It was the path that following the coin always led down.

It was a truly interesting show to watch and partake in.

Especially when she was the one putting you on the back foot.

-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-

“Dear, what is a “Sadist”, the others had me take a test and it said I was one?” Haru asked rather innocently despite her, admittedly, somewhat evil intentions.

She had to fight the urge to giggle when you looked at her as if a day you had been dreading for all your life had finally arrived before turning your back to her and flipping the coin.

Your shoulders promptly slumped and you looked to the heavens, seemingly trying to ask god “Why?”.

You then turned to her, looked her dead in the eyes with the most broken expression she had ever seen and proceeded to explain what a sadist was.

This was truly the most entertaining event to ever occur from the coin yet.

Sumire was intrigued by your habit of tossing the coin.

Leaving everything to fate, hedging all your bets on a 50/50 gamble.

You and Joker would probably get along.

That and probably correct her on the actual chances being something like 51/49 or something to that effect.

Nonetheless, the Ting of the coin never failed to grab her attention.

The questions you left to the coin always ranged wildly.

From what food you were going to eat for lunch to if you were going to randomly carry Sumiere around like a bride.

Your whims were always decided by the coin and Sumiere was always excited to see what the answer would be.

-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-

“Uhh… Yoshizawa?” Ryuji asked as he peered out the window of Ren’s room.

“Yes?” Sumire answered while turning to the blonde.

“Is that your spouse down there?” the blonde asked.

Sumire flushed red before exclaiming for the thousandth time since you pulled that stunt.

“WE’RE NOT MARRIED!!!”

She had to bite the inside of her mouth to avoid adding on the “Yet” to the end of that sentence.

“Yeah, yeah whatever-” Ryuji began to say before the bell rang and the voice of The Boss rang out.

“Hey there! Yoshizawa’s upstairs with the kid and the others.”

“Thanks Boss! Would you mind going ahead and making me something to drink while I head up there?” you asked.

“No problem, the usual?” Sojiro asked.

The sound of the coin being flipped rang out.

“Dealers choice today, Boss.” you stated before the sound of someone walking up the stairs hit everyone's ears.

“Hello everyone!” you greeted before walking over to Sumiere.

You then proceed to gently place your hand on the side of her face, and kiss her on the lips.

After a few moments, you pulled away with a smile before saying “Goodbye everyone, it was nice seeing you all!” and then walking away and back down the stairs to grab and pay for your drink, leaving Sumiere blushing as red as her hair and a dazed look in her eyes.

“You’d think she’d have gotten used to them coming by just to kiss her by now.” Ann said as she flipped through her magazine.

“Yeah, then again, the coin does leave everything to chance.” Ren said before taking a sip of his coffee.

[sluttywonwoo]

instead of you [part thirty-six] || l.mh

pairing: [best friend’s brother] lee minho x college!reader ft. han jisung

summary: you didn’t expect to spend your summer pretending to be your best friend’s girlfriend- then again, you didn’t expect to fall for your best friend’s brother, either. 

warnings: swearing, alcohol

word count: 3k

a/n: revamped my tom holland series from my main blog ( @wazzupmrstark ) to try and motivate myself to finish it!!

“Nice hat.”

You gave Minho a sideways look. “Really?”

“Yeah, it’s cute.”

You tipped the brim at him, grinning. “Thank you. Jisung picked it out.”

“He has good taste.”

You weren’t sure how to respond to the double entendre so you didn’t, choosing instead to direct your attention forward, where your fake boyfriend was teeing up. 

Back at school, Jisung had gone off to play golf with a few of your mutual friends once or twice, but it was an expensive hobby, and as broke college students, they couldn’t exactly make a habit out of it. For a little while, Jisung worked as an assistant chef at a nearby country club for a couple of months which allowed him free access to their course in his off time, but juggling the job and his studies quickly became too much to handle and he couldn’t even keep up with his responsibilities, let alone have any free time to take advantage of the course. 

Considering how long it had been since he last played, you weren’t expecting much from Jisung’s first swing, but when he stuck the golf ball with his club, it actually went relatively far. Of course, you didn’t have much knowledge of the sport to go off of when it came to gauging how well he was actually doing, but from the looks on his brothers’ faces, you assumed he’d done pretty well. 

“Good job!” you cheered, running up to your best friend and kissing him on the cheek. “That was good right?”

He caught you with an arm around your waist and pulled you close. “Thanks, baby. It wasn’t bad, but it could have been better.”

“Whatever, you’re just being humble.”

“He’s not,” Felix piped up from behind the two of you. “Let me show you how a real golfer plays.”

You rolled your eyes in unison with Jisung but stepped back to let Felix tee up anyway, both watching as he took a couple of practice swings. 

“How much do you want to bet he comes in last?” Jisung muttered in your ear. 

“I’m not willing to go bankrupt over this, sorry.”

Jisung snorted and tried to muffle his laugh in your shoulder but it was still loud enough for his twin to hear. 

“Oi! I don’t want to hear it when you’re up thirty points over me.”

“Yeah, we’ll see, Lix,” Jisung scoffed. “Just swing already! We don’t have all day, mate.”

Felix shot his brother a look but did as he was told. He rolled his shoulders and focused in on the ball, huffing out a breath and drawing the club back over his shoulder. He put more power into his swing than Jisung had but hit the ball with the edge of the clubhead instead of the center which sent it flying a little off to the left. From what you could see, the ball still landed on the pitch. It hadn’t gone into the trees or the lake, it was just in a trickier spot to clear. 

“What was that you were saying about points?” Jisung asked smugly.

Felix groaned and turned back around to argue with him as Minho came up and took his place at the starting point. 

“It’s going to be a long day, isn’t it?” you muttered to Minho. 

He gave you a tight half-smile and shrugged. “You have no idea.”

-

It had only been an hour since the boys started and you didn’t think you’d ever heard so many insults and curse words thrown around in such a short amount of time, which was saying something. 

Jisung, Felix, and Minho were all neck and neck with each other, with Dom far ahead of all three of them. 

The course itself was beautiful. It was just across the street from the resort you were staying at, right on the edge of the water. You were able to see the ocean from the tops of the faux hills on the green, sparkling with the reflection of the sun. The waves were dotted with little boats and surfers all enjoying the good weather and making the most out of the afternoon.

You would have been content to spend all day there if it wasn’t so hot and you weren’t forced to stand around listening to your best friend argue with his brothers.

“How many more holes are there?” you asked Nikki, leaning over and whispering quietly so that the others wouldn’t hear you. 

“Too many.”

“Kill me now.” 

“Why don’t we get ourselves a drink when the cart girl comes around? It’ll make the time go faster.”

You grinned. “I like the way you think.”

-

You weren’t a stranger to day drinking, not by a long shot, but you didn’t want to get too sloppy while the sun was still up. You had long since given up on the little pact you’d made with yourself not to drink for the remainder of the trip— not that you’d ever really followed it in the first place. Nikki got herself a High Noon when the aforementioned cart girl came by, so you did the same, insisting on covering the tab for both of you.

“Please?” you practically begged. “It’s literally the least I can do after everything you’ve done for me.”

She seemed to think about it for a minute. “Fine. I’ll let you do it this one time. But don’t get used to it.”

You did a little dance in celebration and handed over some cash to the cart girl after she popped the tabs on both of your cans. 

“Want anything?” you called to the boys. “It’s on me!”

Felix was the only one to take you up on the offer, both Minho and Jisung making a fuss about not spending your money on them. Where was this attitude back at school? you asked yourself, scoffing at Jisung’s refusal. 

“I’m in the lead, I can’t afford to lower my inhibitions now!” Dom said. “But when I win, I’ll treat you to a pint, even though you’re canoodling with one of my opponents.” 

“I’m starting to think you guys have something against me,” you accused the two non-participants as you handed Felix his beer. “What, do you think I’m broke?”

“We’re just gentlemen,” Minho said pointedly, shooting Felix a look.

“You are broke,” Jisung muttered.

“Watch it,” you shot, waving your drink at him. “You’re not getting a sip now.”

“Babe, I didn’t want a sip to begin with.”

“Okay, well even if you change your mind you can’t have one.” 

He laughed and shook his head at the ground, walking back over to the teeing-off point with his hands on his hips.

Nikki was right, the afternoon did indeed pass a lot quicker with drinks in your hands. They kept you cool in the heat of the sun and the alcohol made the hours blend into each other.

In the latter half of the game, you started to pay more attention. You had finally begun to pick up what was good and what was bad from everyone else’s reactions to the shots and could actually tell for yourself. 

“Baby, can you switch this out for the driver?” Jisung asked, holding his current club out to you.

“Which one is that?” 

“The big one.” 

You selected the club he described and passed it to him, taking the one he’d just used to put back in the golf bag. He kissed you when you met him in the middle to swap the two, smiling against you when he noticed Minho looking on. 

“Sorry, couldn’t help it,” he whispered in your ear. “It’s too fun to fuck with him.”

Confused, you turned around to see what he was talking about only to see Minho standing a few feet away with his tongue in his cheek. 

“Thanks, baby,” Jisung said, putting his hand on the small of your back to remind you of what you were doing. “You make a cute caddy.”

Minho mumbled something under his breath that you didn’t catch but you figured that was probably for the best.

-

After golf, you hung out with Jisung’s family at the pool for a few hours before heading back up to the rooms to get ready for dinner. 

“Do we need to dress nice?” you asked.

Jisung peeked out from the bathroom to answer you, shaking his wet hair dry with a towel. 

“Uh, not like nice, nice but nicer than just jeans.”

“Okay, I can do that.”

You turned back to your open suitcase and rifled through it in search of something that fit the dress code.

“By the way, where did you go last night?” 

“With Minho?”

“Yeah, you were gone for like hours. I fell asleep and then woke up randomly and you still weren’t back.”

“Minho took me to some beach.”

“Did you have sex with him?”

You looked up. “Yeah. Why?”

Jisung shrugged. “Just wondering.”

You could tell he wanted to say more but you didn’t push. If you did, you’d only be hurting your own feelings. He had told you that himself. Jisung had been very clear that he wasn’t ready to talk about the Minho thing with you so all you could do was be honest and answer the questions that he asked, even if it was awkward and uncomfortable. 

You were so used to guilt by now that you almost didn’t notice the fresh wave that washed over you. You knew it was wrong to still sleep with Minho after everything— hell, you knew it was wrong before everything, but neither of those facts stopped you from doing it. 

You realized Jisung was still looking at you so you shook it off and picked up a random sundress from your luggage. 

“How’s this for tonight?”

“Looks good to me.”

An hour later, you and the rest of the Hans were seated around a table in a dimly lit restaurant. The sundress had been the right choice. The place was right on the water and open to the outdoor air so all of the other patrons were dressed pretty similarly. 

Jisung ordered for you after you looked over the menu together like always. Your hands rested on the table, fingers entwined for his family to see. You had been doing this for so long now that it was almost second nature to you. You had fallen into the routine a long time ago but you didn’t even have to think about it anymore. You probably wouldn’t even be giving the action a second thought had it not been for Minho staring at your hands from across the table. 

It looked like he was zoning out, like he wasn’t actually glaring at you holding hands with his brother but you couldn’t be sure. You kicked him gently in the shin to get his attention. He jolted and locked eyes with you immediately, erasing any trace of subtly.

“You okay there, son?” Dom asked, patting Minho on the back. 

“Yeah, yeah, ‘m fine. Just got a chill.”

Thankfully, everyone seemed to move past it and the conversation resumed. Dinner was otherwise uneventful. The boys recounted the golf game and Dom’s landslide win, while you just listened and nodded along when it felt right. It was a relief not to have to add anything to the discussion. You didn’t have the energy to. 

Dom stayed true to his word from earlier and bought everyone a round from the bar at the restaurant. You weren’t a big beer drinker but you didn’t want to be rude so you suffered through the whole pint, ignoring Jisung’s worried glances from the side. 

“You know I could have finished that for you,” he muttered. 

“I don’t want to look like a pussy in front of your dad,” you hissed back. “He bought it for us. And I didn’t want to be left out.”

Your best friend scoffed and shoved his hands in his pockets. “You’ll do anything to prove a point, won’t you?”

“You know me.”

-

Minho pulled you aside after dinner, once you were back at the resort. 

“Think you can ditch your ‘boyfriend’?” he whispered as you both fell back a couple of steps.

You stopped. “What, why?”

“I just want a moment alone with you.”

“A moment or several moments?” you challenged. 

He smirked. “I’ll take whatever I can get.”

“I can’t keep blowing Jisung off,” you sighed, “and neither can you.’

“You know he doesn’t want anything to do with me right now.”

“That doesn’t mean you should stop trying!”

“Look, can we not do this right now? When they’re literally right there?”

“You’re the one who pulled me aside right in front of them.”

You watched his jaw clench in frustration but he didn’t say anything else because he knew you were right. 

“Can you ditch him or not?”

You sighed again and looked back to Jisung. He was in what looked to be a heated debate with Felix. You didn’t need to hear it to know it was over something stupid.  

“I’ll see what I can do.”

-

Jisung barely bat an eye when you told him where you were going. 

“Okay, be safe,” he said as he kicked off his shoes. 

That’s it? That’s all he had to say to you? You wanted to ask him just that, but you were afraid of creating another rift between the two of you. Jisung had said he wasn’t ready to talk about it so you shouldn’t push, right? But was it wrong to keep leaving like this?

Going back and forth with yourself was only wasting time and Minho was still waiting for you downstairs. Fuck it. 

You grabbed a spare room key from the dresser, shoved it in the pocket of your dress, and left without another word before you could change your mind. 

Minho was right where you left him, leaning against the wall by the elevator hub. He grinned when he saw you. 

“Thought you’d never escape.”

You rolled your eyes at him as you let him lead you through the lobby by the hand. You were still wary of people seeing you together but the lobby was seemingly empty. 

“Jisung didn’t care. It was me who took forever.”

Minho paused, letting go of your hand as he gave you a concerned once over. “Is everything okay?”

“Yeah, I’m fine.”

“Are you sure?”

You nodded. “Yeah, I don’t really want to talk about it. So, where are we going?”

He frowned, but only momentarily, quickly covering it up with a smile. “I- okay, um... remember how you said we don’t do ‘couple stuff’?”

“Yeah?”

“I thought maybe I could take you somewhere where we can do that.”

“What do you mean?”

“I’m taking you on a date, silly.”

“Really? Where?” When he didn’t answer, you groaned. “You and your stupid surprises.”

“It’s more fun this way and you know it,” he insisted, tugging you along by the hand.

“I like being prepared,” you argued. 

He grinned. “So be prepared for a good time.”

The drive wasn’t far at all this time but you were confused when he pulled into a crowded lot. You were even more confused when he didn’t turn off the car or more to get out of it. 

You turned to him in confusion. “Minho?”

“Y/n?” he parroted. 

“Where are we?”

“We’re on our date.”

“Yes, but where?”

“Did you not see the sign when we turned in?” You shook your head. He grinned. “It’s a drive-in.”

“Really?”

“Why do you think no one’s getting out of their car?” 

“I didn’t really notice, to be honest.”

“Too distracted by your hot date?” 

You didn’t spare him a reaction. “How’d you find this place?” 

“I did some research the other night,” he explained, “when you, you know, we talked about it. I figured this is about as close as we could get to a real date. At least right now.”

“That’s… really thoughtful.”

He shrugged. “Nah, it’s nothing, really.” 

“Well I was going to kiss you, but if it’s nothing—”

“No, no. I want the kiss. Give me my kiss.”

You chuckled, relenting as you leaned in. He met you halfway over the center console and kissed you sweetly. It was short but eager, just enough to leave you wanting more. 

You had to remind yourself not to get your hopes up. Sure, Minho was showing interest in you now, but what about when this was all over? Would he want to do long-distance? Did he want to date you at all? You had been telling yourself that it was just sex all this time but now you were on a date... but what did it mean? You could just ask but you were scared to ruin the moment, ruin whatever it was that was actually going on. 

You’d been asking yourself the same questions for weeks now and the scary thing was, it seemed like Minho was serious about you. He had all but said it outright to you. And here he was taking you on a fucking date. It was you who kept pushing back. You told yourself it was because of Jisung, but if you were being honest with yourself that was only half of it. You were afraid of getting hurt. You had never been in a real relationship before for that very reason. Well, that and you liked being single. It seemed favorable considering the dating pool of your university. 

“I want another one,” Minho murmured, leaning in again. 

“Nope, that’s all you get for now,” you teased, even though you did very much want to kiss him again. 

His lips parted in surprise. “Wha- why?”

“Because I only promised you one! I can’t just go giving my kisses away, can I?”

“Sure you can,” he argued. 

“That would lessen their value. I can’t wager them to get what I want if they’re not worth anything.”

“Your kisses are very valuable to me,” Minho insisted. 

“Because I’m sparing with them.”

Minho inched even closer to your face, eyes trained on your mouth. “So I can earn them,” you started to nod, “if I’m a good boy?” 

You almost choked on nothing, swallowing a moan. Minho watched your reaction with a self-satisfied smile and then settled back in his seat, turning his attention to the giant projector screen at the front of the parking lot. 

“We’ll see,” you muttered hoarsely.

He hummed, still looking forward. “I’ll be good then.”

lmk what you think i always appreciate feedback!!

[bambisnc]

historical fantasy au w vampire!karina. ₊˚.

historical fantasy au w vampire!karina in which your family, former elites who barely managed to regain their wealth and are now at a risk of going completely bankrupt, again, is desperately trying to find a woman affluent enough to be able to support their business to marry their son.

historical au w vampire!karina where of course the much talked about yu jimin, who honestly they didn't even consider a potential choice - what with her ethereal looks and that astute, insightful, intimidating aura which had led her to become an important member of the business scene at her young age.

historical fantasy au w vampire!karina who starts taking an interest in your family, in your brother especially. everyone is obviously ecstatic. but.. you've started noticing some rather strange things recently.. how your family has started looking paler, weaker by the day. how it's as if a heavy fog of weariness has settled over the household. how you feel like there are always a pair of eyes on you, even when you know there can't be any because why would anyone be looking at you? the main focus is on your brother, just as always.

historical fantasy au w vampire!karina where one day you rise from a deep slumber except you don't really remember falling asleep? only to find the entire manor completely empty. whispers and rustling of something that definitely isn't natural make you tremble slightly and then there's a loud knock that rings throughout the huge house, echoing eerily. you make your way down, desperately clutching a candelabra, as a source of light and if worst comes to worst, a weapon. you approach the towering door and open it gently so as to not make any noise, but the hinges creek as if they have a personal grudge against your ears.

historical fantasy au w vampire!karina who greets you with such a charming smile that you're left dazed, from her alluring figure from someone actually paying you their entire attention for the first time; her honey like voice saying, "could you let me in, darling?"

+ [m.list]

[poisonheiress]

Vivziepop's ability to decay any women and fem-aligned characters she creates has always haunted Helluva Boss, and as a result, limits them to being one dimensional characters that fall into a "with them or against them" mentality when it comes to her male characters; they only exists to prop up other (male) characters or to serve as morally bankrupt villains.

From Verosika to Stella to Loona and Millie, this trend is clear from the beginning of the show and likely will follow it to the end. However, for this post I will discuss the recent victims of this trend: the lovely Glitz and Glam.

To be honest, I adore Glitz and Glam (to the point of writing fan fiction for them) and they have become my favorite characters in the entire show so this discussion will show some bias towards them. While some may say its too early for this call as they will be seen again, but from what I've seen on twitter from fans and even creators of their song alike, I do not have the hope this will occur.

From the beginning, Glitz and Glam are looked down on for their desire to win and for doing anything they can to get that position. When confronted with Fizz's kind words of support, they look down on him and further emphasize how they are going to win against him even gaining the title of "snatches" and "sluts" by Blitzo. From this moment forward, its clear the narrative doesn't want us to look kindly upon the sisters. After all, they are being "bitches" to Fizzarolli and competing against him in a manner that pushes him further and further into a breakdown. The fact that Fizz's relationship with Mammon and self esteem issues are not their fault is shown as irrelevant to both the audience and their creators.

This isn't made better by their song writers' commentary on twitter on how the glam sisters are perverting the true nature of clowning and that their song shows how they are simply wanting to get Mammon's attention by feeding into the financial and sexual exploitation (even saying that they want this to happen). This commentary solidifies the idea that they are not someone we should root for especially since they are allying themselves with Mammon, a horrific, abusive asshole.

While I expect this level of dismissal and honestly misogynistic writing from Helluva boss, I can't help but be extremely agitated by it and the reason why was made clear recently: the narrative acts as if the Glam sisters are doing this for out of selfish desire alone, as if they are terrorizing Fizz for no good reason. But that's simply not true, and even Vivzie's canon supports me here.

The Glam sisters are hellborn demons, only one rank higher than the imps. This means that while they may be treated better, they still are not treated as full citizens like sinners are, and in a dog eat dog world like Hell, kindness is not something they can afford.

Getting this position with Mammon is a life changing deal, something Fizz is proof of. Yes, it is as exploitative as it is lucrative for the individual, but this is Hell (as Vivzie likes to claim) and opportunities like this are something many would die and kill for.

So at the end of the day, I cannot help but be confused why the narrative punishes and looks down on Glitz and Glam for taking some crumb of control back from the system and accepting their objectification with open arms as long as they are rightly compensated for it. Why does even their (albeit catchy) song look down on them for doing whatever it takes to survive in Hell? After all, they would be exploited anyway, right? It's what Hell lives on.

In a class system like Vivzie claims to have, the glam sisters are a prime example of the kind of oppressed vs oppressed the system creates, but instead of trying to understand them or even see them as morally complex, they are simply the slutty female antagonists who are corrupting the sanctity of hell clowns simply because they don't clown for the sake of clowning. Whatever complexity they could have, even if it is beneficial to the entirety of the show, is worthless compared to their narrative propping for Vivzie's favored characters. But it doesn't surprise me. After all, what else is a women is Helluva Boss good for if not to support the main male cast.

[satosugusandwich]

𝔏𝔢𝔱 𝔐𝔢 𝔖𝔢𝔢 𝔜𝔬𝔲’𝔯𝔢 𝔐𝔢𝔞𝔫…

True Form!Sukuna x Fem!Afab!Reader (This is an AU!!! Sukuna is not a homicidal maniac cannibalistic murderer! I think he’s sexy and my morals say no dick from crazy murderer BUT dick from crazy 😍)

Cw: once again mentions of violence from first chapter, self hatred, self-sabotage, sukuna is introspective, but he’s still an asshole, mentions of a sex room (context is necessary to understand lmao)

Description: You've been friends with Yuji Itadori for some time now and have seen the best, the worst, and the strange in all your years of knowing him. You've never thought he was one to have any crazy secrets and well... you were wrong. And now the demon bound to Yuji is bound to you too! How fun! Good thing that you aren't stupid and won't fall for a being that by no means should you have ever interacted with! Right? Right...?

*Yuji is aged up but there will be no sexual stuff with him except maybe like a brief mention but yeah*

Also I mentioned this on Ao3 but this work in inspired by “Teeth” by Lady Gaga (also monster by her is so Sukuna coded)

@dressycobra7

Chapter 2 Here!!!!!

Chapter 3: To Hate One’s Self

You were able to sleep way harder than you anticipated. You suspected that the trauma from the whole ordeal would make you unable to sleep at all but there was something comforting about having Yuji with you and even though you didn’t want to admit it, having a demon bound to you was actually pretty fucking reassuring. When you woke up, you immediately decided that you have no desire to even think about going to class let alone actually go. All you wanted to do was lay in bed and rot a little bit. (Only temporarily, Yuji hoped). Yuji offered to go get breakfast for you two and promised he’d be as fast as possible, so you were left alone with Sukuna in your living room while you scrolled through YouTube videos online.

It didn’t take long for your peaceful scrolling to be interrupted by swearing coming from the living room and then an “aha!” You were curious but also scared to know what exactly Sukuna was doing. You decided to remain there until you heard a loud thud. You didn’t bother to fix your hair or your clothes when you peeked out of the door to peer at Sukuna. He had picked up your recliner and moved it across the room, seemingly had thrown it.

“Do you intend to watch me?” He turned his head toward you and rose to his feet from the floor. You realized what he was doing now, eyeballing the tv remote in his hands.

“Uh, no, just—I was wondering where that was.” You stammered. “I checked under there but—“

“It was lodged in the inside of it. I had to shake it around to get it out.” Sukuna interjected.

“Are you gonna… put it back?” You can’t believe you just asked a scary super intense monster demon thing to move your chair back.

He seemed amused but unsurprised by your question. “It was in the way.” His body was fully turned to you now and you couldn’t help but watch his stomach mouth smirk at you.

You opened your mouth to speak but were far too distracted by how one pair of arms crossed themselves while the others sat on his hips like a disappointed mother. “But that doesn’t answer my question.” You finally spoke.

“If you tell that brat to bring me extra food, I’ll move whatever you like.” He grinned.

Food? Okay. Interesting motivation but relatable you thought to yourself. “Yeah, sure.” You opened up your phone and called Yuji, telling him Sukuna wants extra.

“Man, he already eats comical amounts of food… I’m gonna go bankrupt.” Yuji mumbled over the line.

Sukuna had already moved the recliner back to its original spot and was sat, turning on the television after inspecting the remote closely.

Yuji continued. “I think I’ll get barbecue since I can get a whole lot for really cheap. He gets extra needy after he follows a more crazy command. Are you feeling okay?”

You nod, still watching Sukuna. “Yeah. And bbq is fine. I’ll send you my order.”

After hanging up, you walked back into your room and then into the bathroom to fix yourself. You didn’t want to look in the mirror and when you did, you realized you really were right. Your eyes were dark and your skin was so much paler. On top of that, you could see that bruises formed overnight on areas where the men had gripped you extra hard, and not to mention the dryness of your skin, having neglected drinking anything since you came home. Really, you feel ashamed for what you’ve done, you fucked up your life by sucking some shitheads dick and have given your best friend unnecessary stress. You were miserable. Maybe all you should do is rot.

“Hey brat! Teach me how to navigate your technology!” Sukuna called to you snapping you out of your ideation.

A nasty scowl was on his face and his stomach mouth was certainly not smiling anymore. You looked to your tv and realized it was on the wrong input and he was clicking buttons frustratedly, trying to get it off the error screen. You recall that you were playing video games last time you were out in the living room and you must’ve forgot to switch it back.

“Here, press this button.” You clicked the blue input button and it changed to the regular settings. “What are you trying to watch?”

Sukuna scoffed. “I can find what I want myself, I’ve seen the brat do it enough.” He snatched the remote back from you and slowly started to scroll to Netflix and then clicking on the app. It’s fascinating watching him, it’s like watching an old person use a phone.

“Okay.” You waited a moment before deciding to walk to the kitchen, trying to hide the fact that you were curious to see what he’d try to watch.

Sukuna assumed you wanted to watch him, he was tempted to find something that would make you react in an amused way. He didn’t exactly know what, but was determined to get a reaction out of you. He settled on an interesting title, How to Build A Sex Room. Perfect. “Hm.” Sukuna mumbled. “Humans still fuck like rabbits.”

You didn’t know what to say. But what made it worse for you? You had already started watching that show in the past. So it started in the middle of an episode.

“The hell? This doesn’t seem to be right, it’s in the middle of the show.” Then his head was suddenly facing you. “Someone must’ve been watching it.”

You were blushing and even though his face was completely indifferent, you could see his stomach mouth smirking again. “Maybe.” Is all you said. Let’s pray the demon that you just met doesn’t realize that you’re a freak and that he doesn’t understand technology at all.

Sukuna found the restart button fast. Yeah, he knows enough. Damn Yuji for being such a movie nerd! And damn Yuji for having a demon that watches him!

“Hey, I got a a question.” You tried to deflect from your embarrassment.

Sukuna remained fixated on the screen. “I suppose I’ll indulge.”

“Do you have to be around me or Yuji? Or can you roam free?”

Sukuna pursed his lips. “Regrettably, I’m stuck with both of you. If I could roam completely free, I wouldn’t be anywhere near here.” He answered honestly, seemingly unconcerned with how you feel toward his answer.

“How far can you go?”

“That’s already two I’ve answered.”

“Sorry.”

He let out a huff of air. “I’m only teasing. The distance depends, there’s no specification. Sometimes it depends on the security of the master. Presently, you don’t feel very safe so I can’t go far. I could’ve gone with the brat and maintained better distance, but I hate being stuffed into his vehicle.”

That makes sense, he was practically in a million different positions trying to remain comfortable in your friend’s car, thinking about the way he was having to sit made you realize it was a lot funnier than you remember. The recliner he was situated in was almost the perfect size to hug his body. You were sure he’s grateful to not have to follow Yuji anymore, but then again, he can’t get that far away from you either.

“Sorry you can’t leave.” You said.

Sukuna didn’t respond and instead focused on the screen. You attempted to shuffle away now, finding yourself to feel very awkward.

“Hey, brat.” Right as you got to your door he spoke. “You went to sleep with that man, right? I’ve heard you speak about your outings with the other brat and I find it pitiful you choose such sad men.”

Oh shit, you can feel that same tightness in your throat coming again as well as embarrassment flood your senses. You didn’t answer him.

“In my era, a woman like you would’ve been thrown to the masses, celebrated. I never had any interest in women like that but the men that did were ones who could not stand on their own. Taking cock from a man like that will ruin you.”

His words took you aback, not just because of his brazen use of the work cock, but also what felt to you like harsh advice. You sucked down the urge to cry and asked him, “why are you telling me this?”

Sukuna pondered over what he should answer with. “I don’t like watching misery.”

You entered your room and shut the door, unsure if he was being compassionate or shaming you. Either way, the words still hurt. Sukuna himself wondered if he should’ve said that, he doesn’t exactly care for you or anything and neither has he cared for anyone in a very long time, maybe it was an inkling of the past coming through. It was true, he can’t stand watching misery, watching someone wallow in it reminded him far too much of his own upbringing and the sense of being rejected. He had to make his way to the top, to earn the title of Sukuna. He’s long forgotten his name, cursed it to the back of his mind, a part of him he doesn’t desire to remember.

Soon after, Yuji arrived with all of your food and left Sukuna with his family sized meal before entering and seeing you bundled up burrito style on your bed. He could see the redness of your face and immediately knew you were crying again or was. He didn’t acknowledge it, choosing to try and keep you in a good mood by talking about the experience at the restaurant. Luckily, because of his stupid attitude, you were laughing pretty quickly.

Then he popped a question out. “What is Sukuna watching?”

You snorted. “How to build a sex room.”

His eyes widened and his nick stretched forward. “Huh?”

You were laughing a lot harder now. “Don’t ask me, he likes what he likes. You got a freak bound to your family lineage.”

Yuji slumped down onto your floor dramatically. “Man, he’s already a handful now, I can’t imagine how much worse he’s going to get with you now.”

A yell came through the door. “I can hear you!” Yuji straightened fast and you couldn’t help but laugh even harder. He’s such an idiot.

Sukuna wasn’t too amused, hearing Yuji so openly trash talk him and very loudly. Your laughter didn’t make it any better and he found it to be out of place after what you went through. He also doesn’t appreciate being called a freak. At least you’re attempting to move on, Sukuna could applaud you for trying.

“If I hear anything else, you’ll regret it, brat!”

“Whatever!” Yuji yelled back before quieting his voice. “He’s all talk, he can’t do anything to us. Unless we tell him to. Also, he tends to say things in a really abrasive way. He didn’t say anything to you, did he?”

You told him what he said and Yuji’s face shifted back into shock. “The last part was kinda funny. Who says cock so casually?” You laughed, cupping your hand around your mouth to try and keep quiet.

“Yeah, he’s a fucking weirdo.” Yuji was too loud.

“ITADORI!” He shouted and soon enough your bedroom door was wide open. “You sure have a lot to say after I saved your friend so kindly, your ass as well, and even stayed behind to protect her. Not a single thank you.” The demon feigned offense. “Shouldn’t you be groveling and worshipping me for doing such a feat for you?”

You could tell he was mostly joking and trying to irritate Yuji, but you really did realize you needed to thank him. You can’t believe you forgot.

“Hey, listen! You are weird, you’re from like a thousand years ago and are watching a freaky-deaky show! You also have bbq sauce on your stomach mouth! You have a literal mouth on your stomach!” Yuji stood up fast but Sukuna’s towering frame made him look like a child yelling at their father.

Sukuna was grinning down at him. “Hah. Your mouth is running exceptionally fast, might I tell her about that time you got so drunk you pissed on your own floor?”

You rolled back on the bed laughing and Yuji was beat red. “You—you saw that!?”

Sukuna wiped his mouth, briefly glancing over to you. “It was entertaining, how could I not watch?”

You put your hand on Yuji’s shoulder. “It’s okay, it happens to the best of us.”

Sukuna scoffed. “Your kindness is misplaced.”

Hearing his words, you were brought back to your thoughts and managed to make yourself stop snickering. You almost forgot again! Rising up from the bed, you stepped between the two men, confusing both of them, then you bowed your head in front of Sukuna.

His grin faded and his expression turned sober. “What’s this?”

“Thank you for saving me.” You remain bowed. “I’m sorry for not answering your question earlier, as well.”

The demon looked at your head hanging before turning around and saying, “Your apologies are unnecessary, but I will take the gratitude.” He closed your door and you lifted your head, turning back to Yuji.

“Whoa, that’s unusual.” He said. “Sukuna is usually a lot more arrogant than that. You must’ve shaken him up or something.”

You stood there for a moment, pondering Yuji’s words. It was strange, he’s someone who seems to think highly of himself but just blew off your apology like it was nothing. Especially since he was framing what he did as a favor, you expected to see more of a jovial reaction or even a degrading one. He doesn’t seem to be heartless, just a little out of touch, so his reaction does make some sort of sense. Regardless, you don’t know him all that well so perhaps something is off about your newfound bonded demon.

Sukuna sunk back into the chair and continued watching the show, or really what he was doing was watching the images while his brain ran. After watching you from the side from time to time, he determined your naive and self-sabotaging habits to be a bore and overall sad, but now that he’s interacted with you, he almost feels guilty for having seen you in such a negative light. To be so grateful to him when he expressed saving you as a favor, as an obligation, shocked him. Should you not be screeching insults and your disdain at him? Are you that much of a self-hating creature? Did he even view saving you as a favor? He didn’t know, he hasn’t felt pulled to anyone since the Heian era or connected at all in that matter. He wondered, would he have saved you if Yuji had not commanded him to? Is he a creature still capable of compassion and empathy after experiencing all that he has?

[shepherds-of-haven]

Unsolicited Writing Advice

Completely random reminder to back up your work, especially if you're a writer, IF or game developer, coder, or creator of any kind. People sometimes ask me what my advice for other writers is, and I always forget to include this one, but it's one of the most important things, especially if your career, livelihood, or long-form projects hinge on writing in any way! Take it from someone who just had two backup methods fail unexpectedly and only the third backup prevented me from losing a solid month of work, you need to back up your work in as many ways as you possibly can. It may seem like a pain in the ass at the time, but I've seen a lot of games or stories stall or fail completely due to a catastrophic loss of data that utterly kills any drive to keep going with the project because of the need to start over. I'M BEGGING YOU, BACK UP YOUR DATA.

I recommend having at least 2, ideally 3 methods of backup:

Automatic cloud storage. I personally prefer working with Dropbox, where every change I save is automatically synced and backed up to a cloud server as well as natively saved on my own device. It also has robust version history, so if you figure out you've done something horrific and unknowingly saved over something important or rewritten a section you weren't supposed to, you can rewind everything in a folder down to a specific minute (over the last 30 days): a feature that has saved my hide just a few too many times for comfort. A free Dropbox account gives you 2 GB of storage to work with. Working within Google Drive works just as well, and the free version gives you 15 GB of storage (though that's shared between your email account and other Google apps, as well)! However, I don't believe it provides automatic syncing and backup the same way Dropbox does: you either have to work directly within a Google doc for your work to be automatically saved to the server, or you have to manually upload the files to your Google Drive to back them up each time.

Physical storage. Every few weeks or months, I also take the time to back up my important files to an external hard drive or thumb drive. Again, it's kind of a hassle, but if the day ever comes that you lose your passwords or find that they've been changed, a company's servers go down or they go bankrupt, they decide to start charging you to access your data, or whatever crazy circumstance you can think of, it's always good to have a physical backup somewhere. A basic 1 TB thumb drive is somewhere around 20$ USD (though it can be slower at that price point if you're transferring a large amount of data each time), and it's even less if you don't need that much storage. A 1 TB external hard drive (which has a much quicker transfer rate) is around 40-50$.

If all else fails, email. If you can't get access to physical storage devices and cloud storage services don't work for you, consider setting up a free Gmail or what-have-you account specifically for backup purposes, then email a copy of your most important files to it every time you make a significant change to them. This may seem sort of primitive and simplistic, but it works, and you can even use it as a little journal or diary of your progress!

Again, you may think this is overkill, but I am convinced that writers are especially prone to proving Murphy's Law and have seen way too many projects, friends, and colleagues fall prey to this oft-overlooked issue. I can count at least half a dozen times where -> my primary device like my laptop broke, failed, became corrupted, had water spilled on it, etc. -> I then turned to my secondary device (hard drive or thumb drive) only to find something was wrong with THAT (broken, outdated, incompatible with currently-owned tech, corrupted, not up-to-date backups) OR I turned to my cloud storage and found something wrong with THAT (unknowingly saved over data and didn't realize it until 3 months later, meaning not even version history could save me) -> and it was only the THIRD method of backing up that saved my ass.

Anyway, this is just your friendly neighborhood writer reminding you to back your work up! It's a necessary part of the job! Thanks for coming to my TEDtalk!

[flowersandbigteeth]

hey is it alright if I send a request? Maybe comforting the reader when they are sad and feel inadequate and lonely? I don’t mind who you want to write for I just wanted to ask because I’m really struggling atm

Helloooo! I'm sorry you are feeling down. I also have been feeling down for a while, so this kind of took me some time to write. I didn't really know what to say to make myself feel better let alone someone else...but Vass just has a way of cheering people up I think ^_^

Drider (Vass) x gender neutral reader

Word Count: 1.2k

W: hurt/comfort fluff, little bit of angst and bathtime, sfw drider fluff

“What’s wrong (Y/N)?” Vass asked, looking down at you. 

You weren’t your usual cheerful self, bouncing around his nest on the spongy floor as you worked on the little assignments he gave you to help him out with his business. 

You sniffled and Vass gasped, scooping you up in his arms. 

“Dumpling,” he murmured, pushing your tear streaked face up to his, “tell me what’s going on…” 

You nodded to the mess you’d made on the floor. While working with the dyes you’d spilled the wrong color and then slipped in it, turning you and a whole pile of six beautiful shirts that were supposed to be red, blue. There was no way that was coming out and it was all uneven. You couldn’t save any of it, not to mention the blotchy blue streaks covering your feet and legs. You’d be dyed for weeks.  

“I can’t do anything right,” you mumbled, lowering your head, “I just mess everything up.” 

“(Y/N),” he cooed, trying to give you an encouraging smile, “you just made a mistake. I’m glad you didn’t hurt yourself falling but it’s nothing that can’t be fixed.” 

Your eyes filled with tears. 

“No,” you murmured, “I’m just a fuck up. I always ruin everything. That’s why they made me a trapper and wouldn’t let me back in the village. I was always knocking things over and breaking things. It’s like…I have a curse or something.”

On the word curse you let out a high pitched sob and tears tumbled from your cheeks. 

“I’m cringe,” you wailed. 

Vass tried not to laugh. 

“Cringe?” he asked. 

You nodded through your tears. 

“My whole life is just cringe. Everyone else makes a mistake once in a while, but I can’t walk two feet without breaking something or knocking it over or saying something stupid.” 

Vass clucked. 

“I’ve never heard you say anything stupid, (Y/N)” he assured you. 

You trembled in his arms. 

“You don’t understand,” you sniffled, “you haven’t known me long enough. Once I told the chief of the village in front of the whole assembly that he “rode me too hard” and everyone laughed. I was always saying stupid stuff like that. I was the laughing stock of the whole village. I’m just…cringe…nothing comes out right. I can’t ever do anything right. It was better when I couldn’t speak at all. I just suck.” 

You dissolved into your own pity party of tears and Vass sighed, pulling you to his chest, tucking you under his chin while he carried you to the bathroom. He didn’t speak or try to console you while he undressed you and then slid into the water with you. Sitting you on the little ledge of the large pool he carefully scrubbed the excess dye off of your feet. 

It didn’t come off completely, but you were no longer dripping with it. 

“You wanna know how my dad died?” Vass asked suddenly. 

You blinked at him through your tears. It wasn’t the sort of thing you could say “no” to, despite how caught up you were in your own misery so you nodded. 

“He was unabashedly a bastard,” he announced with a chuckle. 

You blinked. 

“What?” you asked. 

Vass’s eight eyes flicked up to you and he nodded. 

“He was. He was mean, drank too much and got meaner. He used to walk around the castle showing his dick to anyone he could catch just to prove how big it was and trust me it wasn’t that big. He almost bankrupted us on multiple occasions, almost dragged us into war by sleeping with the King of Verunia’s wife, and wrote really, really, really bad poetry about all of it, which he insisted our papers publish. He even wrote and forced the court to cast in movies he produced about his exploits, always painting himself as the hero.

“He died in a prison cell in Verunia, not from execution, but because he tried to eat a rat and contracted some kind of plague that gave him diarrhea. Can you imagine? The King of our land dying from trying to gnaw on a rat? The papers all published that he shit himself to death. The King. He was cringe, but you know what? The asshole had the most confidence of anyone I’ve ever met. It’s not fair.” 

Your mouth fell open a little at his story. 

“What’s not fair?” 

He chuckled. 

“That you’re in my bathtub crying over being the cutest little thing on the planet and he…spent his whole life informing anyone who would listen of what he thought were his many endearing attributes. I mean…anyone else would have been embarrassed, but not him. He held his head high every day of his life and I imagine he died with his head just as high.” 

He shook his head. 

“It’s not that you’re cringe,” he sighed, “it’s that the world doesn’t work right. The best people question themselves endlessly while the worst breeze through life like nothing around them matters. It should be the other way around.” 

He gave you a small lopsided smile. 

“You could spill a thousand vats of dye and you’d never be as cringe as my dad,” he said, “if you want more proof I’ll show you some of his poetry.” 

You looked at him and blinked before a little giggle wormed its way past your lips. 

“I-I’m sorry,”  you mumbled, “I shouldn’t laugh.” 

He shrugged. 

“It’s funny now,” he said, “but I can’t in good conscience let you sit here and beat yourself up and that’s what you’re doing. You’ve cornered yourself and now you are beating yourself down with your words. So you say silly things sometimes and you’re a little clumsy? You’ve never tried to hurt anyone. You’re kind to me and everyone else you’ve met.”

He chuckled. 

“You try not to step on ants,” he said, brushing your cheek with his fingertips, “If that’s your brand of cringe then I will happily be cringe with you. You can be cringe all day and I’m just going to think you’re cute.” 

You pouted. 

“It’s not cute,” you said, crossing your arms. 

He smirked at your defiance. 

��I’m not allowed to think you’re cute anymore?” he fake pouted back at you with his handsome face, “dunno if I can do that.” 

He pinched your blue toes. 

“You’ve got cute little toes…” 

Then he pinched your knees. 

“Cute little knees…” 

His fingers traveled up to your soft belly. 

“Cute little belly…”

He gathered your hands in his and pulled them to his lips. 

“Ten cute little fingers…” 

His eyes focused on your lips and he bent down and pressed his mouth gently against yours. 

“And a perfect, cute little mouth,” he purred into your lips. 

You were too flustered to feel very upset anymore and your cheeks bloomed with heat. He pulled you into his arms and rested his head on your shoulder so you felt the heat of his breath on your neck. 

“So stop beating up my cute little mate,” he said quietly, “I love you and I’ll fight you if I have to.”

You giggled at that. 

“You’re gonna fight me?” you asked. 

He nodded into your neck. 

“I’ll fight anyone who tries to hurt my mate, even you,” he assured you.

You giggled a bit and leaned your head back into his chest. 

“Well you’re a lot bigger and stronger than me,” you sighed, “I guess I have no choice but to surrender.” 

He hummed happily in victory. You still felt a little cringe and maybe a little silly for even being upset to start with but tucked in Vass’s arms you felt like it might be okay anyway.