#these guys are always a good time to draw

[poorly-drawn-mdzs]

Just your average male living space.

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[littlelamy]

thinking about rafe being more involved with sarahs life after the baby and spending time with them and taking the kid to school or maybe picking the kid up and seeing reader who is a teacher and they flirt or maybe it’s parent teacher conference and rafe tags along with john b bc Sarah can’t make it and him and reader are cute and flirting

the late afternoon sunlight filtered through the classroom windows, painting golden streaks across the desks and scattering soft shadows on the floor. it was quiet now, the hum of kids long gone except for a few stray drawings left forgotten on tables and the faint creak of your chair as you leaned back, scanning through a pile of spelling tests.

the knock on your classroom door startled you, pulling you out of the mundane rhythm of grading. when you looked up, you expected john b, who had mentioned he’d be dropping by for the parent-teacher conference. instead, you saw him. rafe cameron.

rafe leaned casually against the doorframe, one hand shoved into the pocket of his jeans, the other gripping the strap of a sleek leather backpack. his usual cocky smirk softened into something more polite, almost uncertain, as his eyes swept the room before landing on you.

“hey,” he said, his voice low and warm, like he wasn’t entirely sure he belonged here but was trying anyway.

“hi,” you managed, your surprise fading into curiosity. “can i help you?”

“i… uh, i’m here for the conference,” he explained, stepping further into the room. “sarah couldn’t make it, and john b roped me into tagging along.”

you blinked, trying to reconcile the guy who had a reputation for being a little too reckless, a little too intense, with the man standing in front of you. “oh. yeah, of course. take a seat. john b should be here any minute.”

rafe nodded, sliding into one of the kid-sized chairs with an amused grin. “man, these chairs are tiny. no wonder kids are always squirming.”

you laughed, the sound light and unexpected. “yeah, they’re not exactly built for comfort. you’ll survive, though.”

he raised an eyebrow, leaning his elbows on the desk as he looked at you. “is that a challenge?”

before you could respond, the door swung open, and john b burst in, his usual whirlwind energy filling the room. “hey, sorry i’m late,” he said, dropping into a chair beside rafe without missing a beat. “traffic was insane.”

“it’s fine,” you assured him, pulling out the folder with their child’s name neatly printed across the front. “shall we get started?”

the conference itself was straightforward, mostly you going over their daughter’s progress, showing off some of her artwork, and sharing notes about her strengths and areas for growth. but every now and then, you felt rafe’s gaze on you, steady and curious, like he was trying to figure you out.

when the meeting wrapped up, john b stood, stretching. “thanks for taking the time. sarah’ll be thrilled to hear everything’s going so well.”

“of course,” you said, offering him a warm smile. “she’s a great kid. makes my job easy.”

john b nodded, then glanced at rafe. “you coming?”

rafe hesitated, his eyes flicking to you. “uh, i’ll catch up. i just have a quick question.”

john b smirked, like he knew exactly what was going on, but didn’t say anything as he left, leaving you and rafe alone.

“so, a quick question?” you prompted, arching an eyebrow.

he grinned, leaning back in his tiny chair. “yeah, just wanted to ask if you’ve always been this good with kids, or if it’s something you picked up over time.”

you tilted your head, caught off guard by the sincerity in his tone. “a little of both, i guess. i’ve always liked working with them. they’re honest, you know? no filter. keeps things interesting.”

he nodded, his expression thoughtful. “yeah, i can see that. you’re… you’re really good at it. i mean, i could barely survive babysitting her for an afternoon, and you do this every day.”

you laughed, feeling a warmth creep into your cheeks. “it’s definitely not easy, but it’s worth it.”

there was a pause, the kind that felt like it held something unsaid, and then rafe stood, towering over the kid-sized desk. “anyway, i should let you go. but… maybe i’ll see you around?”

“maybe,” you said, your smile lingering as he made his way to the door.

but before he left, he glanced back, his smirk returning. “or, you know, if you ever need a break from grading papers, i’d be happy to grab a coffee or something. on me.”

you raised an eyebrow, fighting the grin tugging at your lips. “i’ll think about it, cameron.”

he chuckled, giving you a small salute before disappearing into the hallway, leaving you alone in the golden light of the classroom, your heart fluttering in a way you hadn’t expected.

lamy's notes: i wouldn't mind doing more fics about rafe x teacher!reader! i hope you liked it!!

taglist: @namelesslosers @maybanksangel @averyoceanblvd @iknowdatsrightbih @rafesheaven @anamiad00msday @ivysprophecy @wearemadeofstardust0 @rafesangelita @sstargirln @rafedaddy01 @soldesole @bakugouswaif @skywalker0809 @vanessa-rafesgirl @evermorx89 @outerhills @ditzyzombiesblog @slavicangelmuah @alivinggirl @rafesbabygirlx

[melanchoire]

Hey! Could I request a nsfw college AU with Karina?

Where you’re the shy, honor roll, top of the class, goody two shoes type and Karina is the outgoing, popular, everyone wants to be with her or her friend type.

You guys are in a relationship and she decides to sneak you guys into the deans office because she loves adrenaline and gets a thrill out of knowing the two of you could potentially get caught as she eating her lunch(you) on top of the deans desk.

Thank you!

BAD GIRLS R US ──── yu jimin

── ( 🚬 ) you thought acing exams was stressful? try dating karina, the campus rebel whose every impulsive decision threatens to unravel your perfectly structured world; now, she’s got her sights set on corrupting your good–girl image, and you must decide if you’re willing to risk it all for a taste of the forbidden fruit she's so tempting you with.

pairing. teasing dom!rebel girlfriend!karina x sub!good student!fem reader

warning(s). cunnilingus, cum eating, degradation, fingering, making out, semi exhibitionism, spanking, squirting.

word count. 3,8k

being in a relationship with karina was, as cliché as it sounded, like riding a roller coaster with a fear of heights. you, the exemplary student, the beacon of discipline in academic pursuits, found yourself perpetually dangling from the precipice of her chaotic brilliance. honor roll was your middle name. you were a picture of academic discipline, dean’s list regular, a name synonymous with responsibility.

karina… well, karina was a supernova. bright, chaotic, and drawing everyone into her orbit. she was the cool girl from the movies, eternally confident, radiating a charisma that could light up a room.

but god, she has a big charm.

you remember the initial shock of it all. how she had noticed you. you, huddled in the library with your nose buried in textbooks, while she breezed through life, a whirlwind of social gatherings and spontaneous adventures. yet, here you were, undeniably, irrevocably entwined.

walking with karina was a public affair… it was impossible to go unnoticed. walking with her through the college halls was a sensory overload. your hand swallowed in hers, or her arm draped tentatively around your waist, became a magnet for attention. every few steps, a chorus of greetings would erupt; “good morning, karina!” “hey, karina!” “morning, karina, you look great!” the greetings were relentless, a chorus of admiration echoing her every footstep. her replies were always effortless, sprinkled with wit and genuine warmth. her confidence was a force field, deflecting anxieties that would usually cripple you. her attitude was the reason you loved her.

you, on the other hand, would shrink a little, offering shy smiles and quiet nods. even with your closest friends, karina’s presence amplified your timidity. you were perfectly content in her reflected glory, a quiet moon orbiting a vibrant sun.

now, standing in the bustling college hallway, the aroma of lukewarm coffee swirling around you, you checked your phone for the tenth time in as many minutes. sunlight filters through the leaves, dappling the brick facade in shifting patterns.

you’re waiting for karina, having escaped your literature class early after demolishing the midterm. elation had bloomed in your chest — an unexpected free morning! you’d texted karina, hoping she’d be free to celebrate with… something. anything. her reply was brief: “teacher MIA. free as a bird. meet you at the vending machines?”

first, you wonder why your girlfriend suddenly has free time when she’s supposed to be studying right now. surprisingly, karina didn’t have class because her professor supposedly bailed. you’re skeptical, but not enough to outright accuse her of ditching. you take a sip of your coffee, the lukewarm caffeine doing little to soothe the nervous flutter in your stomach.

that nagging little voice in your head, the one honed by years of academic integrity, whispered suspicions. karina skipping class? it wasn’t entirely out of the realm of possibility, but something felt off. you took a sip of coffee to try and relax and let the warmth soothe you from within; its bitterness doing little to soothe your rising unease. instead, it was as the taste of hazelnuts and caffeine had doubled your discomfort and worry.

as you scroll through instagram, a pair of hands snaked around your waist, startling you. the unexpected pressure sends a jolt of electricity through you. before you can react, someone’s blowing on your neck, a warm breath tickles your neck and sends a shiver down your spine, followed by a quick, playful kiss just behind your ear.

you nearly choke on your coffee, sputtering and flailing, before whirling around to find karina holding back a laugh, her eyes sparkling with mischievous delight. “hi baby.”

“karina!” you punch her lightly on the shoulder, a scolding simmering under your voice. “you idiot! you scared me half to death!”

“but you looked so cute, all serious and focused.” she said, her voice laced with amusement. “like you were solving the mysteries of the universe with just a cup of coffee and your phone. all focused and serious. it was adorable.”

you rolled your eyes, trying to maintain a semblance of composure. “very funny.”

you glare, but the heat in your cheeks betrays you. it’s impossible to stay mad at her. you give her the look and she apologizes, pressing a soft kiss to your lips as a peace offering.

she leaned in, her expression softening. “okay, okay, i’m sorry.” she murmured, planting a soft kiss on your lips. the world seemed to fade away for a moment, the noise of the hallway blurring into a distant hum. “i’ll say it again, i’m sorry sorry.” she murmurs, her breath warm against your skin. “couldn’t resist.”

she looped an arm around your waist, pulling you against her side and steering you down the hall. you let her lead, the familiar weight of her presence grounding you. “c’mon, let’s go for a walk.” she said, her voice regaining its usual playful tone. “tell me all about your brilliant conquering of calculus.”

“it was a literature exam.” you retort, giving her a slight sideways glance, noticing how she smirked at you getting moody when she manages to get out of you the attitude she loves the most

“so…” she says, her voice light and conversational. “how was the midterm from hell?”

“easy.” you retort, trying to sound nonchalant. “finished it in twenty minutes.”

“show off.” she nudges you playfully.

“and you, ms. art aficionado? what masterpieces are you creating today?” even though you two were joking around a bit and treating each other in a certain way, your question had a genuine interest.

“just finished a sculpture”. she replies. “i’m pretty proud of it. it’s… well, you’ll see.”

“i look forward to it. and if you need some help, i can help if you want.” you offer, ever the dutiful girlfriend.

“thanks, babe.” she rests her head on your shoulder for a moment. “i think i’m good for now. i just have to finish this painting project for arts. it’s kind of hard, you know?”

“yeah, i see. and what class was it that you so conveniently didn’t have because of a teacher’s absence?” you ask, your voice laced with gentle suspicion.

karina laughed, a melodious sound that always made your heart skip a beat. she tried to hide her smile, but a tell–tale glint in her eyes betrayed her. it only took one pointed look from you for her to confess. “okay, okay, you caught me.” she admits, her voice dropping to a conspiratorial whisper.

“me and yeji and giselle decided a sunny morning was better spent… elsewhere.”

you felt a familiar surge of exasperation. “karina!” you started, ready to launch into a lecture about responsibility and wasted potential.

you open your mouth to scold her, to lecture her about responsibility and wasted potential, but she clamps a hand over your mouth, her eyes wide with mock horror. “shhh! don’t say it so loud!” she hisses. “someone might hear me, and then i’ll be in actual trouble.”

before you could formulate a retort, she grabs your wrist and tugs you in the opposite direction, away from the main thoroughfare and towards a more secluded part of campus. “c’mon, let’s go somewhere more… private to discuss this.”

you stumbled after her, your mind reeling. where was she taking you now?

“karina, where are you taking me?” you ask, your voice tinged with concern. she’s never skipped like this before. “we should probably get you back to class—”

she cuts you off, spinning you around and leading you towards the hallway with all the administration offices. now, you two are standing outside the… dean’s office. the polished brass plaque gleams in the filtered sunlight.

you stared at the imposing wooden door, your heart pounding in your chest. “karina, what are you doing?” you ask, your voice rising in pitch. the anxiety that had been simmering beneath the surface now threatens to boil over. “why are we here? you’re not in trouble, are you?”

she leans closer, her eyes sparkling with a reckless abandon that both terrifies and exhilarates you.

she grinned, a wild, mischievous glint in her eyes. “well, if i’m going to get a report for skipping class anyway.” she said, her voice dripping with mock drama. “i prefer to give a good reason for having one.”

“are you serious? karina, you’re going to get into serious trouble! actually... you’re going to get us into serious trouble! do you have any idea how a report would look next to my grades? that would ruin my student image! and—” before you could continue with your monologue, she interrupts you.

“relax.” she says, her voice a low murmur. “i’m going to get a report whatever happens, so, i prefer to give a good reason for having one. and don’t worry, if we get caught, i promise you that i’ll be the one to take full responsibility and face the consequences alone, so stop being a pussy.”

you don’t have time to process her baffling statement before she’s pushing you through the door, her hand firmly planted on your lower back. the office is thankfully empty, the dean presumably away at a meeting. the air smells of old paper and authority. this is so wrong.

she pressed you against the cool, smooth surface of the door, her body a warm, insistent pressure against yours. your breath caught in your throat. her hands moved to cup your face, her thumbs gently tracing the lines of your cheekbones. her gaze, intense and playful, locked with yours.

“karina.” you breathed, your voice barely audible.

she didn’t answer. instead, she lowered her head, her lips brushing against yours in a feather–light kiss that sent shivers dancing down your spine. the kiss deepened, her lips parting yours, inviting you in. you surrendered, your worries and anxieties melting away in the heat of her touch.

her hands moved from your face to the small of your back, pulling you even closer, molding your bodies together. the subtle scent of her perfume, a mix of vanilla and something indescribably floral, filled your senses.

her hands roam freely, tracing the curve of your waist, sliding under your shirt to explore the sensitive skin of your back. you gasp against her mouth, your body responding instinctively to her touch. her fingers dance along your spine, sending shivers down your back.

the world shrinks to the space between you, a bubble of heat and desire in the sterile environment of the dean’s office. you can feel the rapid beat of her heart against yours, the frantic pace of her breath mingling with your own.

you instinctively arched closer, your own hands finding their way to her hair, the soft strands sliding between your fingers. the kissing grew more insistent, more demanding, a silent conversation of desire and unspoken needs.

she nibbled at your lower lip, her tongue tracing its outline, and you moaned softly, the sound lost in the deepening kiss. your hands moved lower, tracing the curve of her back, the smooth fabric of her blouse a tantalizing barrier.

the kissing broke, and she trailed kisses down your jawline, her breath warm against your skin. you tilted your head back, giving her better access, a silent invitation. her lips found the sensitive skin of your neck, and you gasped, a thrill shooting through you.

“karina.” you managed to whisper, your voice trembling slightly. “we… we shouldn’t be doing this here. the lunch bell will ring any minute.” the absurdity of the situation finally registered, the dean’s office feeling suddenly small and claustrophobic.

she pulled back slightly, her eyes dark and knowing. “then…” she whispered, her voice husky with desire. “we should hurry up.”

karina’s hands slid up your sides, her fingers splaying across your back as she pulled your body flush against hers. you could feel every curve and contour of her lithe, toned figure pressed against you, separated only by the thin fabric of your uniforms.

she captured your mouth in a searing kiss, her lips moving hungrily against yours. her tongue pushed past your teeth, exploring and claiming, dominating your mouth with a fierce intensity. one hand tangled in your silky hair, gripping it tightly as she angled your head to deepen the kiss.

karina’s other hand slid down to grab your ass, squeezing the firm flesh hard enough to leave imprints of her fingers. she ground her hips against yours, letting you feel the heat building between her legs. the kiss turned sloppy, wet, obscene in its intensity as she devoured your mouth.

karina’s hands slid down to your ass, squeezing the soft yet firm cheeks, followed by a tap on your side, giving you the signal to wrap your legs around her waist. without breaking the weight, she effortlessly carries you up to the dean’s large, polished mahogany desk

after a long, breathless moment, she broke the kiss, leaving you both panting. a string of saliva connected your lips before she licked them clean with a wicked grin.

karina’s eyes flashed with unbridled lust and a hint of madness as she gazed at you, chest heaving with each ragged breath. without warning, she spun you around and bent you over the dean’s large, imposing desk, scattering papers and office supplies to the floor. her fingers found the hem of your skirt, pushing it up and bunched around your waist.

“fuck, you look so hot like this, love.” she growled, giving your ass a sharp smack. the sound echoed through the office, followed by the muffled yelp that escaped your lips. karina rubbed the reddened flesh, soothing the sting before continuing with her purpose.

slowly, teasingly, she hooked her thumbs into the waistband of your panties and tugged them down, yanking them off your legs and tossing them carelessly to the floor. cool air kissed your bare skin, making you shiver with anticipation.

wrapping her long hands around your waist, she spins you around, making you lie on your back. karina grabbed your thighs, spreading them wide and pushing your legs against your chest, making you hook your hands on the back of your knees and hold them against your chest — this exposed your most intimate place to her hungry gaze.

“mmmh, and look at this pretty little pussy... all pretty and perfect, just for me.” karina licked her lips as she took in the sight of your exposed sex, glistening and ready. she leaned in close, her warm breath ghosting over your most intimate place. her fingers slid through your slick folds, teasing and stroking. she could feel the heat radiating from your core, the slick evidence of your arousal coating her fingertip.

without further preamble, karina leaned in and sealed her mouth over your sex, her tongue delving deep between your folds. she groaned at the taste of you, her eyes fluttering shut for a moment before she focused intently on pleasuring you. her tongue circled and flicked over your clit, then pushed inside your tight heat, fucking you with deep, deliberate strokes.

karina’s hands gripped your thighs hard enough to leave marks as she held your legs open, keeping you spread wide for her hungry mouth. she devoured you like a woman starved, determined to taste every drop of your arousal.

she lapped at you greedily, savoring your unique taste, before focusing on your sensitive clit. she suckled and flicked the hardened nub, sending shockwaves of pleasure coursing through your body.

karina attacked your pussy with wild abandon, her tongue delving deep and stroking every sensitive nerve ending. sloppy, wet sounds filled the dean's office as she ate you out with gusto, not caring about the mess she was making or who might hear.

every so often, she would pull back and spank your ass hard, leaving a red handprint on your cheek. the sharp sting only served to heighten your arousal, making you writhe and buck against her mouth.

“fuck, you taste so good.” karina growled against your cunt, giving your clit a hard suck. she released it with a pop, only to dive back in and press the flat of her tongue against it, rubbing firm circles.

“such a naughty girl… letting me do this in the dean’s office.” she purred, punctuating her words with a sharp smack to your ass. “i bet you love being a dirty slut, don’t you baby? being eaten out where anyone could catch us?”

tears burn in your eyes, escaping from the corners of your eyes and turning into fat drops as they begin their journey down your blushing cheeks. a sob escapes from your swollen and almost sore lips from biting them so much in attempts to contain your moans and noises so as not to be caught in this position by some teacher or student. “you’re the one who suggested it.”

karina laughed, a low, wicked sound that vibrated against your sensitive flesh. she delivered another hard spank to your ass, leaving a matching red handprint on the other cheek.

karina smirked up at you, her chin glistening with your juices. she gave your clit a quick flick with her tongue before responding. “mmmh, you’re right, baby. i’m the one who suggested it. guilty as charged, baby. but i’m not sorry. i saw what i wanted and i went for it, just like this… and look at you, being such an obedient girlfriend for me.” she purred, rubbing your reddened skin soothingly before gripping it hard enough to leave bruises.

she dove back in, sucking your clit into her mouth and flicking it rapidly with her tongue. at the same time, she pushed a finger, then two, into your dripping cunt, pumping them in and out at a brutal pace.

“mmmh, and now look at you, spread out on the dean’s desk like a feast for me to devour. i can’t help myself around a cute little thing like you.” she purred, curling her fingers to rub your g–spot as her thumb circled your clit.

karina leaned in and buried her face between your thighs again, attacking your pussy with single–minded focus. she licked and sucked and fucked you with her tongue and fingers, pushing you closer and closer to the edge.

she could feel your walls starting to flutter around her invading fingers, signaling your impending orgasm. karina doubled her efforts, determined to make you come undone on her tongue.

“that’s it, baby, come for me.” she growled against your cunt, the vibrations pushing you over the precipice. “i want to taste your cum dripping down my chin as i make you scream my name.”

karina punctuated her words with a particularly hard spank to your ass, leaving a vivid red handprint on your skin. at the same time, she pressed her thumb hard against your clit and bit down gently on your clit, sending you hurtling into ecstasy.

she could feel your breathing growing more ragged, your hips bucking erratically against her face. with a final, hard suck to your clit, she pushed a third finger into your tight channel, stretching you deliciously.

karina fucked you hard and fast, the wet squelch of her fingers plunging in and out of your dripping cunt filling the room. she could feel your walls fluttering, your body tensing, and she knew you were right on the cusp.

with a final, brutal thrust and a hard suck to your clit, karina sent you hurtling over the edge. your pussy clenched vice–tight around her fingers as your orgasm crashed through you, waves of ecstasy radiating out from your core.

your pussy clamped down around her fingers as your orgasm crashed over you, wave after wave of intense pleasure radiating out from your core. karina moaned as she felt your release flooding her mouth, lapping up every drop of your essence like a woman starved.

karina groaned against your spasming sex, lapping up your release and pushing her fingers deeper to feel every pulse and flutter. she worked you through your climax with skilled fingers and a wicked tongue, wringing out every last tremor and aftershock until you collapsed back onto the dean’s desk, boneless and sated. only then did she pull back, a smug grin on her face as she licked her lips.

pathetic. that's what you looked like right now; pathetic. but of course your girlfriend was enjoying every damn second of this moment, seeing you so vulnerable given the context of the situation… maybe this will just feed her twisted brain and get her mind working on thinking of more places she can get a nice piece of pussy if she’s in the mood

maybe this will just feed her twisted brain and get her mind working on thinking of more places she can get a nice piece of pussy if she’s in the mood, and of course, you’d never deny it to your girlfriend, right?

“not bad for a quick fuck in the dean’s office, huh baby?” she purred, standing up and wiping her mouth with the back of her hand. her eyes raked over your disheveled form, sprawled out on the dean’s desk with your skirt bunched up around your waist.

karina leaned over you, bracing her hands on either side of your head. she licked her lips, still glistening with your juices. “and i’m not nearly done with you yet, baby. we’ve still got so much more to explore together… just wait until i get you all to myself.”

pulling away from you, she takes your wrist, giving you a gentle tug to lift your body off the desk and onto your feet.

she picks up your discarded panties on the carpeted floor, kneeling in front of you. wrapping one of her hands around your ankle, she helps you lift each of your legs and put your underwear back on. she hooks her thumbs into the waistband of your underwear, pulling the panties up your weak, shaking legs — the fabric stained as it made contact with your slippery folds and puffy clit, but hey, you had to endure the sensation until you could find a moment to sneak off to your dorm and find a clean pair of panties.

smoothing your skirt and setting it into place, karina watches through her lashes as you put your sweater back in place and comb your hair, running your fingers through your messy locks. “we’ll go get something from the cafeteria, okay? let me buy you something for lunch. you need to regain your energy to continue the day, you can’t be in class with that lack of energy on your body. i promise that after class, i’ll take you home and take proper care of you.”

you smiled victoriously. finishing the literature exam in record time and passing it, being able to spend quality time with your girlfriend, getting fucked by her and then her promising you a nice breakfast and a date afterwards? today was your lucky day.

“oh, and wipe that satisfied smirk off your face before someone sees. wouldn’t want people getting the wrong idea about the dean’s pretty little assistant.”

[l0s3rd0wnt0wn]

the reader has each time that a member of her family tries to create a bond with her:I am not your pet, I never liked you, I don't care about you I won't wait for you. I hate you.

Yum, good soup!

They'll do anything to spend time with him. Bruce has never watched anime in his life, but you love *Ouran High School Host Club* and *Soul Eater*. With no choice, you watch with him, only for him to ask fifty or more questions. And you always end up leaving him behind in the dust. But he's trying; you're still his baby, even if you side with him like that.

Dick always wanted to help you out with your like a big brother should, showing you the way, but you growl like a wild animal if he gets close to curls. Sure, you let him put growth oil in your cornrows, but that's all he'll ever do. You avoid that man like he has cheese touch.

Jason hasn't been a teen in forever, maybe reading a comic or two and bonding with you about how stupid comics draw women or how ugly the super-realistic style is, just for readers to roll their eyes every time he speaks. Why is he talking to me? Come on, laugh at his jokes; he knows you, he's funny. Come in and giggle!

Tim, you both are nerds. Why don’t you guys play some D&D? "Nah, I have my own party." Tekken 8? Nah, you prefer MK. Come on, just hang out with him! Geeks stick together, but for some reason, you’d rather play with random online players. He’s literally the superior player, and he’s way cooler and funnier, so don’t ditch him for your friends—he's a better rival!

Damian, please, oh, please let him hang out with you. Let him be a little brother; let him ride on your back. Let him play video games with you. Let him come to your room when you have a night in, but you refuse; you blow him off like the plague. Don’t tell him you’re not free—he tracked your schedule!

Stephanie, let's go shopping, paint each other's nails, talk about our crazy crushes, go shopping, and max out Bruce's cards. Oh, you're busy? That's cool. Wait, all your friends are hanging out together, and you're going to Chuck E. Cheese? Why don't you let her join? Oh, you guys were planning this and you don't have an extra space? Maybe next time you'll spend time with your favorite gal pal.

Cass will psychoanalyze all the shonen you've ever watched. Even if it's unrealistic and people don't scream for 15 minutes and suddenly get powerful in the show. Oh, Kengan Ashura! Tell her about the lore and all the fighters; please talk to her about it. She'll pose like the fighters and recreate the moves for you. Come on, just hang out with her. She won't talk, or she'll talk your ear off, but your face of indifference tells her you really don't care; you'd rather watch something else. Fine, Cass will watch it with you.

Duke, come chill with him. Sure, you guys have only had two conversations, and so what? You can't have more? Listen to Kendrick with him; why don't you both bond over not liking and hating on Drake? Schoolboy Q shit. He'll even play Doechii's Chromakopia is out. Let's rap to Sticky. You don't fuck with that? Oh, it's cool; he'll listen to whatever you like. He'll do whatever you like! You guys can watch Boondocks together and make random references that only you two understand. Let him give you a retwist. Let him be your brother, but you'd rather hang out with some loser from your school? What's that about?

[maaaariii]

'I carry.'

overview ig: you accidentally find hanmas gun oopsies.(kinda 18+ if u squint)

Hanmas lifestyle was never a complete mystery to you.

Gambling and combat fighting soon turned into money laundering, expensive cars and bougie meeting rooms. And while you know its not the best thing in the world- and certainly not the safest, you know him. So you choose to stay. Thats why its almost 2 am and youre sat at tipsy (probably drunk, possibly wasted-who knows how much he drank while you were in the bathroom) shuji's side on his fancy ass couch. Looking around the lavish drawing room youre in- its hard to believe it all belongs to him.Not in a mean way- Hes a messy guy, leaving his shit everywhere and stuff. He just didnt seem like the type of guy to want such materialistic things- just a bit of fun.

Anyways rant over, youre brought back to reality as he tugs on your wrist, bringing your attention onto him- just how he likes. 'cmere'

he grunts ,as he slides his hand behind your neck-not quite fervorous yet, but hes getting there fast at this rate. You chuckle at his dizzy state, pushing a long bleached strand of hair out of his face. 'slow down, if you move too fast youll faint or something y'know..' you joke- he doesnt let you tease him when hes sober. He grunts in annoyance.

'Faint?? girl i only took like 2 shots-' He cuts himself off, pulling you forward so fast that you have to steady yourself with your hands on his thighs so you don't topple over. He presses his lips to yours, quickly prying your mouth open with his tongue as his arm slides down to your back, right over your ass- holding you in place. After a few moments his breathing deepens and you pull away the tiniest bit, ghosting his lips and pulling back every time he gets closer. You cant help but chuckle as he continues his attempts for kisses like a thirsty dog.

'stop it...' he mutters, digging his fingers into your waist which only makes you squirm more. You chuckle and maintain about an inch distance between your lips and his. Staring into his golden eyes, hanma pants slightly- years of cigarettes seem to be catching up with him. Hes only 24. You hold his cheek in your palm, the rugged unmoisturised (ew) skin is warm and slightly clammy from the inevitable asian flush he gets from large amounts of alcohol. One peck onto his lips, followed by another as you slide your hand onto his shoulder

'cmon..do it like you mean it...' he mutters in annoyance. 'i do mean it you ass.'

He scowls at you half playfully.

'Dont feel like it....kiss me harder or you dont love me anymore.' He tries to hide the dumb smirk on his lips. 'im not feeling the love aura vibe thingy tonight babe-' he chortles and you can see the glint of pearly whites under the dim light. You roll your eyes, hanma always makes fun of your vocabulary- he says its so 'chronically online'. Whatever.

You shake your head in mock disappointment as you slowly slide your hand down his torso- despite his shirt you can feel the groove of his abs- a satisfying feeling. He hums, tired and gruff, just needing a good nights sleep and just cant get enough of how warm he is-every inch of his skin lower and lower until..your fingertips graze something solid?..

It takes you a moment to register…there’s no way his dick is this hard…and cold? He’s in his own world, head thrown back and eyes shut..it’s not like you both had boundaries, so you lift the shirt up a little and your chest tightens just a tiny bit. A pistol. Right in the waistband of his pants. It’s black and sleek, but simultaneously old looking. A world of violence and crime is something you were introduced to by your boyfriend, but he bubble wrapped you, putting his hands over your pretty eyes so they don’t tarnish. A gun wasn’t something you’ve ever saw in real life…you reach to grab it but his head jerks up and hand grabs yours fast as hell..his instincts are sharp.

“the fuck are you doin’? Huh?” He seems more offended than angry..

“nothing..don’t yell at me..” you pull your hand away..trying to gauge if you’re disturbed or curious about the weapon as you stare back at him, mirroring his offended face.

“I ain’t yellin’-“

He has a little voice crack at the end-he shuts his mouth to avoid any more..normally you’d both laugh at his little mistakes and trip ups..but there was a slight struggle in finding the humour right now..

“why do you have that..?”

“I’m grown..why can’t I? You ain’t my mom..”

“I know but..”

He shakes his head at you, leaning back to increase the distance between you both..why was he so mad? He’s not the type to get mad over nothing, you could probably accidentally hit him with your shiny car and he’d get up just to ruffle your hair.

“Why do you think? You ain’t stupid y/n.”*

suddenly you feel more sober and real. If there wasn’t a gun between you both you’d probably take that comment as a compliment..

“…”

“Don’t look at me like that…”

for once he breaks eye contact. You never really realised how..intimidating he looked when he didn’t have a shit eating grin on his face-probably because he always had one with you. And now the little voice in his head is scolding him because you’re upset with him.

“c’mon y/n don’t cry..I thought you’d just know. I have a gun so what..” he’s almost stammering, hoping you don’t burst into tears and ask for a birkin as an apology gift (true story, you have the bag in your closet)

“I ain’t gonna use it on you…” he’s rambling now.

“it’s just for safety ‘kay? It’s a big scary world out there-“

“I’m not crying…and stop talking to me like that..” your attention is suddenly diverted to his rather..condescending tone.

He wants to roll his eyes, But he lets out a breath he didn’t know he was holding.

“Just..don’t worry your pretty head okay?…’m tired let’s go to bed..”

🥲sorry guys I couldn’t be bothered to finish (I have no ideas)

[residentrookie]

NFU 

a messy exes/right person, wrong time jegulus microfic inspired by the song NFU by del water gap for my bb @static-radio-ao3 as my thank u for the introduction :))

“Hello?” 

“Regulus,” a hoarse voice rasps on the other end of the phone, drawing out the syllables of his name. Rough and low and… drunk. Extremely fucking drunk, by the sound of it.

Regulus stiffens. “James. Are you-- you’re drunk calling me. Again.” 

“Very astute. You’re always so astute, Reg.” 

He checks the clock on his nightstand with bleary eyes. 3:30 AM. God. Not this again.

“I thought we talked about this,” he sighs, sitting up and rubbing a hand over his eyes. 

“We don’t talk much these days,” James points out rationally. “I think I would have remembered.” 

Regulus rolls his eyes. Not fucking likely. 

“Since you were in a similar state the last time we had this conversation, I’m not surprised you don’t remember. Just so we’re clear that doesn’t make it okay, James. This is— you have to stop doing this.” 

By ‘this’ Regulus means getting wasted and calling him when James is too far gone to talk himself out of the idea. And, if Regulus were smart, he would stop picking up when James’ name flashes across his screen. 

“Like I said. Astute.” 

Drunk James is his worst nightmare, truly. Drunk James is a walking, talking reminder of everything he doesn’t have anymore, everything he will never have again. When he calls, lacking crucial social skills like self-control and any modicum of a filter, Regulus is forced to be the rational one, reminding them both that this boundary exists for a reason. A very good reason.

“Okay. Well I’m glad— it’s good that we talked about this. But this is— this has to be the last time. I’m hanging up now, okay?” 

James continues as if he never spoke. “How’s your um— your boyfriend doing?”

Immediately no. 

“I’m not talking about this with you—” Regulus attempts to shut him down, but James is nothing if not obstinate. 

“You’re still dating the guy with the dumb fucking name, right?” 

James knows full well that he is. Sirius would have informed him otherwise. He just wants to hear Regulus say it because he’s fucking sick and twisted. Naturally, Regulus can’t give him the satisfaction, so he avoids the question. 

“You can’t think Regulus is a perfectly normal name and then turn around and shit on a guy for being named Kingsley.” 

James scoffs on the other end of the phone. “I can shit on him as much as I want. Fucking hate that fucker.” 

“You’ve never met him. You can’t hate someone you’ve never even met.” 

“Sirius hates him.” 

“Sirius doesn’t hate him—” Sirius just wishes he was you. 

“Mhm. Told me so. Said he’s a little bitch who can’t hold his liquor.”

Now it’s Regulus’ turn to scoff. “This coming from you right now? You sound so fucked up, I doubt you can even see straight. Not that you could before, but—” 

“I’m not fucked up,” James insists, then says calmly, “I just missed the way that you talk.” 

This. This was why they had to stop. In his worst moments, Regulus loathes the fact that Sober James all but ignores him most of the time, only bothering to text him on important holidays or birthdays. That is, until he’s reminded that Drunk James wants to ruin him— completely and thoroughly— by the casual cruelty of speaking his mind and expecting Regulus to go on peacefully with his life as if he didn’t just upend it entirely. 

“James…” he starts shakily. 

“Shit, that sounded stupid. This was,” James hiccups, “not my best idea, I fear. Rash. Extremely rash feeling.” 

“What, drunk calling your ex? Yeah, I would say it’s one of your worst.” 

James is quiet for a moment. “You kill me, you know? I-I hate talking to you.” 

Rage wells up in Regulus’ throat so fast he nearly chokes on it. “You called me—”

“God, you sound good. You always sound sexy when you’re angry, did you know that?  Rougher… hotter. All red in the face and your neck…I can almost see it, if I squint.”  James pauses, presumably squinting like a drunken idiot. “Maybe that’s why I called you— to make you angry. To hear you be angry at me again. Stupid fucking thing to miss, isn’t it?”

Yet again, Regulus is at a loss. 

“You— I’m— God, you’re a real fucking bastard, you know that? Do you have any idea how excruciating it is to talk to you when you’re like this?” 

But James ignores him, saying ruefully, “Sirius told me, he always tells me, he says, ‘Don’t do it, James. You always regret it, you always yell at me the next day for letting you call him,’ but he can’t stop me,” a childish giggle bursts from him. “I’m too fast. Much, much faster than him, just for the record. He’s never once beat me in a foot race, and if he says he has he’s a big, fat fucking liar—”

“James, I sincerely don’t give a fuck about that— be honest, did you run away from him at the bar?” 

Drunk James will do that. He’s a runner. Well, not when Regulus was around to keep him on a tight leash, but it seems that without him, James is turning back to some of his worst habits. 

The line goes quiet. Then, “A little bit.” 

“It’s a yes or no question, James.” 

“Mm.” He seems to think on it. “Yes, then.” 

Regulus tosses his hand in the air, forgetting James can’t see him. “Go back and find him!” 

“Don’t want to,” James sniffs. “Tryin to make my mistakes in peace.” 

“You— I’m hanging up and calling Sirius.” 

“No, no don’t!” James yells into the receiver, making Regulus wince and pull his phone away from his ear. James’ voice is much quieter when he speaks again. 

“Don’t, I have to say— I wanted to tell you. I have to tell you that I’m sorry, Regulus. I’m so fucking sorry.” 

A pit of dread forms in his stomach. James sounds wretched. He sounds like how Regulus feels when he thinks too long about how far they’ve drifted apart, how little they speak to each other anymore. For one infinitesimal second, Regulus gets the satisfaction of knowing that he’s not alone in this specific shade of misery— dark blue and bottomless. And then he reminds himself that he’s sober and his ex-boyfriend is drunk and they shouldn’t even be fucking talking right now if they knows what’s good for them. 

“James, look, you’re drunk, you’re emotional—”

“‘S not what I’m apologizing for.” 

“What, then?” 

“Everything. All of it. I never—I wanted…” 

Don’t say it, Regulus begs silently. Please don’t say what I—

“I still love you,” James breathes out. “I love you so much I can’t breathe around it.” 

Regulus lets his eyes sink closed, firmly shuttering the tears forming in his eyes. He can’t let himself say it back. He can’t. If he does…

“James…” Regulus lets himself savor the sound of his name on his tongue. Then says softly, “It’s okay.” 

They both know it’s not. 

______________________________

James looks down at the number on his phone. Blinks, just to make sure he isn’t imagining… but, no, he isn’t making it up. He picks up his phone, his apprehension growing. 

“Regulus?” he asks, unsure. 

A snort sounds on the other line. “Hm, fffancy seeing you here.” 

James blinks again. “...We’re talking over the phone.”

He doesn’t have to see Regulus to know that he’s just waved James’ words away with a flippant hand. “Metaphorically, then.” 

It’s been weeks since the last time they spoke. James remembers very little of that ill-conceived conversation, except of course for the part where he said the one thing he promised himself he would never say again because his brain hates him. It’s played on a loop in his head everyday since, his ragged, sincere words and Regulus’ noncommittal response to them. 

It’s okay, he had said. 

It was anything but okay. They both knew that. 

He had been doing so well, had been training himself to think of other things besides his ex boyfriend and his ex boyfriend’s new boyfriend and what the two of them were getting up to together, all the fun things they were probably doing while James was just focused on getting through his day. On getting to the next one. The next. The next the next the next the next the next—

“You don’t have ‘nything to say? Hm?” Regulus’ words slur. Unusual for him. Regulus was always so in control of himself. 

James frowns. “Are you okay? You sound—”

“Drunk? Well, that’s because I am. Royally, massively fucking toasted. Thought I’d return the favor and call you for once. ‘S your lucky day.” 

“Oh. I guess— I deserve that.” 

“I’ll say. Taste of your own medicine. Drink up, Potter.” 

James huffs a humorless laugh. “You must be drunk if you’re calling me ‘Potter’. You never call me that.” 

“Never say never, Potter,” he spits out meanly.  “It’s never a good idea to say never, remember? Remember how not good of an idea it is to use the word never? My therapist, she says I need to stop talking in absolutes. Never and always. Never say never, I learned that from her. Shame you didn’t, too.” 

James sinks into a kitchen chair, burying his face in his free hand, rubbing out the headache growing in his left temple. “You were right,”  he admits. “This is excruciating.” 

This conversation is making him feel awful for every single time he’s dialed Regulus drunk, the barrier between his thoughts and his words nowhere to be found. Regulus was right. He deserved a taste of his own medicine. He deserved this for every single second Regulus had to keep his cool on the other line while James was busy fucking them up a little more than they already had been. 

“Like remember when you said we’d never break up? Or when you said you’d always love me? Hilarious. Really, really funny stuff.” 

Regulus’ voice is liquid rage, red hot and acidic. James swears it’s burning him through the phone. 

He sighs. “Regulus. Can we not?” 

“No, no, we should talk about it. It’s been long enough. We can be rational adults and have a damn conversation. Here, you know what, I’ll even go first. I wanted you to come with me, you know. I should have asked you. To come with me.” 

James feels his heart stutter in his chest at those words. “You did ask me to come with you,” he murmurs. 

Regulus was waiting for that, like a snake rearing to strike. “Wait. Yessss, that’s right. I asked you to come with me and you said no! Now I remember. You said fucking no.” 

James clenches his jaw, his own anger slowly rising up the column of his throat. “I didn’t say no. I asked for some time to decide if I wanted to upend my life and move across the country, which is a pretty sane response to a question of that fucking magnitude. You’re the one who decided my hesitation meant I didn’t love you.” 

“Well, it sure didn’t feel like you loved me when you let me leave.” 

“Let you—?!” James cuts off, knowing he’ll blow a gasket if he doesn’t calm himself.  “Regulus,” he starts, “I don’t know if you’ve noticed, but no one lets you do anything! You do whatever you please and damn the consequences! I just never— I didn’t want to be one of those consequences.” 

Regulus, to no one’s shock, does not attempt to calm himself. In fact, James fears he’s only stoked the flames. 

“You are hands down the most infuriating human being on the face of the goddamn planet! Of course you’re blaming me! Of course, like you were just an innocent bystander while I went about ruining our relationship! Like you had nothing to do with it! You had no part in it, no, not perfect James Potter, never him! I cannot believe— I just— it’s all so— fuck!” 

His voice breaks on the word and then the rest of him breaks too. His tears sound painful, like they’re fighting they’re way out of Regulus’ body with each sob. He cries loudly and messily and James can’t pretend like the sound doesn’t break his heart all over again. 

“Regulus?” He makes his voice gentle. Soothing. “Hey, don’t cry. Listen, you’re drunk. Why don’t we try talking when you’ve sobered up?” 

“No, James,” he sobs, gasping for breath. “You don’t understand. I fucked up. I fucked up.” 

James sits up straighter, alarmed. 

“Are you okay? Are you safe? What’s going on—” 

Regulus sniffles. “No, I’m— I’m at my place. I’m fine. It’s just… it’s Kingsley.” 

James’ mind goes still in a way that should scare him but doesn’t. “Did he hurt you?” He doesn’t  bother keeping the cool rage out of his voice. 

“No!” Regulus nearly shouts. “No.. the opposite, actually. I hurt him. Badly.” 

James closes his eyes and takes a deep, slow breath. “Look… I’m sorry you’re upset but I really don’t want to listen to your lover’s spat—”

“I said your name last night,” Regulus whispers. 

“You—what?” 

Regulus doesn’t hold himself back. “He fucked me and I said your name. When I came. Yelled it, actually. No way to hide it. James and Kingsley don’t sound remotely similar.” 

And that— well. James has lost the ability for rational thought. “Oh,” he manages.

“Yeah, oh,” Regulus mimics him harshly. “He stormed out and we haven’t talked since. And I think— I think he’s going to break up with me now. He should break up with me. It’s— what I did is unforgivable.” 

No matter how hard he tries, James can’t think of a single thing to say to this information. Naturally, Regulus won’t let that stand. 

“James? Are you gonna say something?” 

“What do you want me to say?” he asks weakly. 

“Say you’re sorry!” Regulus shouts. “Say you’re sorry for drunk calling me all the fucking time, for reminding me that you exist, for reminding me I still fucking love—” 

He cuts off, but not quite quickly enough. James still heard everything he didn’t say. 

“I am sorry,” he says, voice rough. “I’m really, really sorry, Reg.”

He hears the hitch in Regulus’ breath. If he closes his eyes he can see Regulus before him, see the pain take up residence on his beautiful face, the way he scrunches his nose when he cries, his eyes going stark red, his cheeks staining themselves pink. 

He can see Regulus so clearly in his mind. But he didn’t see what was coming next. 

“I-I just want to be with you again,” Regulus cries softly. “I want to be with you, baby. I’ll move back, I’ll quit my program, I’ll move in with you like you wanted, I’ll do anything— but I can’t live like this anymore, James, I can’t, I can’t—”

James’ own tears slide down his cheeks silently, falling off the cliff-edge of his chin. 

“Regulus,” he says as firmly as he can manage. “Stop it. Please. You didn’t move away on a whim, okay? You’re in an amazing program. You love Chicago, you love the city and the river walk and the Art Institute and that bookshop across from Grant Park—” 

“You can’t— I didn’t tell you about any of—” 

“I pay attention. I know you love it. And I love where I live. I love my job here.” He forces the next words to leave his mouth, even though they taste like poison. “We’re… in the right places for ourselves. I have to believe that.” 

This doesn’t satisfy Regulus. The most twisted part of him is glad about that. 

“Why don’t you get it, James? I can’t be in the right place if I’m not with you. The right place doesn’t exist if we aren’t in it together.” 

James squeezes his eyes shut tightly. Regulus can’t know how badly this is hurting him. He can’t know that James feels like dying every day they spend apart, that James has applied for over ten jobs in Chicago just to hear nothing back, has looked at apartments in Regulus’ neighborhood enough times he’s saved the site to his favorites bar. Even when Regulus was dating someone else. Even after Regulus had moved on from him. 

He's looked at it from so many angles, tried to reconfigure it so many times in his mind, and nothing made sense for them. One of them would always be giving up something, making sacrifices for the other, letting the resentment build.

Even thought Regulus is saying everything he’s been wanting to hear for an entire year...

He’s drunk. He’s drunk and he doesn’t know what he’s saying. Doesn’t know what he wants. 

“We’re happy, Regulus,” James tells him stiffly. “We’re both happy.” 

Maybe if he keeps repeating it, he’ll finally start to believe it. 

“If this is what happiness feels like,” Regulus snarls, “then I don’t want to be fucking happy.” 

No. And James doesn’t either. 

“You’ll feel differently in the morning. I promise.” 

Regulus laughs without humor. “I’ll still want you in the morning. Being sober doesn’t change that. It just lets me hold on to a shred of my dignity and not call you to tell you about it. But it doesn’t change a damn thing. You have to know that.” 

He’s drunk, James reminds himself. He’s just drunk. 

“Goodnight, Regulus,” he chokes out. 

“I still love you, James.” 

“It’s okay, Reg. It’ll be okay.” 

They both know it won’t be. 

[babyblankyerror]

On the Stanley hit man thing(please note 1: prices are at least semi accurate to the 70s and 2: I have no idea how hitmen work and there’s only so many google searches I’m willing to have in my history. Also the name of The Guy is a reference to an actual person who was related to an actual big US government fuck up):

Rubbing soap and water into well-worn gloves in some gas station bathroom in the middle of the night was, at this point, a new normal for Stanley. There were better ways to do this, he knew that, but patience and a horrifying amount of soap did the job just fine. Better than leaving the gloves on the ground where someone might stumble across them and realise there are small dried splatters on them.

The best way to get blood out of fabric was to wash it out quickly. Flood it with water, then scrub soap into it and try to wear through it with paper towel after paper towel until the water runs clear. It was a similar method to removing paint from a roller or shirt. That meant that Stan could just pretend he’d messed up on some project, for an art class or something. Or was messing around with his brother's paints. There was only so well that could work after years of the same routine, but it still worked so there was no reason to change it.

As he ran the gloves under the faucet again, the water flowed only carrying suds. No more damning pinkish hue. Now he just had to dry them, and that could be done back in the Stanley-Mobile.

First he’d have to leave the gas station. Then call the number given to him last week when he got the job and tell them it was done. He’d learn where to meet them to get the back half of his payment, then he could see how to split it. Enough to keep going went to him, a little bit went towards saving in case of an emergency, and the rest went to his dork of a brother.

The first step, out of all of them, was always the hardest. There are only so many ways you can hide sopping wet gloves, especially when it’s warm enough out that you can’t just wear a bulky jacket with inner pockets.

He folded them in half, longways, and put one in each of his pant pockets. It was as inconspicuous as he could get.

Stan hurried to the door of the bathroom, before opening it at a much more reasonable speed and meandered out of the gas station store. He took special care to walk in plain view on his way out. As much as he’d love to skirt around the edge of the store to keep out of view, that would only look suspicious and risk drawing attention.

As the store door closed behind him he let his shoulders drop slightly and fished his gloves out of his pocket as well as his keys. His car was parked right outside so there was no need to separate the actions.

Unlocking the door he sat down in the driver’s seat. He already had a small towel on the passenger side of the bench seats. He dropped the gloves on the towel before swinging his door shut, sticking his key in the ignition, and starting the engine. There was a pay phone a few blocks down, but having just left the store he should still move his car.

It was funny how despite about… three years, he wants to say, he still was always on edge after a job. It made sense, considering that the jobs he took consisted of killing people, but it was still a lot of time to adjust to it. At least the pay was good, and he had ways to get through the actual murder part.

Just line up the shot, and count to three. If you make it to three you might chicken out and fail, or if you aren’t sure of aim you might panic since they keep breathing after the shot. Not to mention you leave a distinctive trace of who’s done it with the bullet. But guns left less room for regret and letting them live than knives or fists. It helped that he pulled the trigger on two, before his mind could catch up to what he was doing. By the time he was weighing whether or not he should do it, he was already checking to see if any blood was on him. Usually just his hands if he got close, but on occasion a drop or two would land elsewhere on him.

Shoes he filed the treads off left no recognizable prints as he would walk away.

The drive to the pay phone was silent beyond the low rattling of the engine. Shifting gears and parking the car was so automatic that if he was asked if he’d done it or not he genuinely wouldn’t know the answer. He took a few coins out of the cup holder and a note from where it was tucked into his front visor.

The air had the everpresent heat of summer, only cut through by a slight wind. He vaguely wondered if it was similar weather where Ford was. Sure Indiana was northeast of Arkansas, but it couldn’t account for that great of a change in weather. Especially since there would be enough plants to keep the heat in at night as opposed to if Ford was in the desert out West. Ford should have been in the desert out West, or at least just near it. He’d driven through the west coast once, it went from desert to a small bit of forest by the coast.

He slotted a coin into the phone and punched in the numbers written on the little sheet of paper. It rang for a few moments before someone answered with a tired ‘hello’. Made sense, it was probably around midnight.

“Is this S Higgins?” Stanley asked, staring up at the sky. The town was big enough that the lights faded some of the stars out. Probably for the best, Ford always liked the stars and it was best to not think about Ford when on the call with a client. His voice got too soft, and when your voice gets soft suddenly everything is up for negotiation.

“It is. I take it, you've done it?” The voice on the other end of the line replies. Always with euphemisms and never saying what they asked for. They wanted someone dead and now they’re dead, and he’s the only one that has to face it.

“Yup. You can check; Kelly on York street- dead center of Warren.” Stan says. He knows they won’t check, but it’s always best to give the information so there’s never any doubt he’s done it. It’ll be in the headlines anyways, Warren doesn’t seem like a place where a double homicide goes unreported on. A lovey dovey couple who just so happened to know a few details problematic to an ongoing political career.

“Is Ray’s in Monticello in three days good for you?” Came from the phone, crackly and disconnected. Three days, enough time for news and an investigation to start. Also enough time to plan out where to go next. There were certain people who talked, and it was through that grapevine his name got spread around. Or more accurately his license plate and car’s description did, it was not exactly inconspicuous, and with that ways to contact him. He just had to go wherever people who knew people that might want someone dead were. So pretty much anywhere, but he’d been thinking about seeing New Orleans so maybe he’d head there. And if nothing came up he was certain to find something in Mobile.

“Around lunch?” He asked. The least suspicious time of day. You could openly talk about his work at lunch and it would be taken as a joke. Because it’s the middle of the day and no actual plots could ever take place in the middle of the day.

“See you then.” The words came out and were quickly followed by a clack and silence. He set the phone up and made his way back to the Stanley-Mobile.

Monticello was less than twenty miles away. He could get there and get a motel room that night. But Warren was a small town and the newcomer disappearing the night of two murders would put the cops on his tail, so he swung around and headed back towards the motel he’d gotten a room at here.

The fact he didn’t immediately collapse meant he must have been running on adrenaline, and so rather than fight it for sleep he got his things packed. He’d sleep in and leave at a reasonable time in the morning before heading to Monticello. That seemed ideal.

———

Over the next couple days the only notable occurrences were the headlines about what he’d done, and him visiting the Allen House. From murder to the suicide house tourist trap. Way to go him!

Stanley had to admit though, while the ‘hauntedness’ of the Allen House left something to be desired he enjoyed the fun romp. He could do it better if he wanted to, but that would mean getting a house which would probably require legal documents that were left back in the apartment on top of a pawn shop in Glass Shard Beach, New Jersey. Or he could do it illegally, which was much more likely, but at this point too much of a hassle when his current gig worked just fine.

Noon was approaching though so he turned on the Stanley-Mobile and headed towards Ray’s.

The diner was somewhat cosy despite having a metal back wall that looked like that of a storage container. Probably the warm lighting, benches, and soft music playing from a radio on the counter. He grabbed a table by a window, staring out of it to wait.

After a few dozen minutes of nothing he decided to go ahead and order some fries and a burger, making sure it wasn’t enough he could reasonably eat. He got a to-go bag after picking at them for what he deemed a good amount of time.

It was maybe another half hour or a bit longer when he watched a slightly too-clean Pacer roll up. A man who looked like he’d just been told what ‘casual’ meant last night stepped out and headed towards the diner. That was, without a doubt, Higgins then.

When he walked in the door Stanley waved him over, calling his name with a slight cheer as the man came over.

“You did… the job.” Higgins muttered, pulling a chair opposite Stanley’s spot on a padded bench and shuffling to sit down.

“I did. It’s on the news if you need to check.” Stanley said, leaning back slightly.

“I… I already saw the news. I have the money.” Higgins said, pausing to hum and haw before continuing, “Three thousand, right? Here, in cash.” Higgins said, reaching into a pocket on the inside of his clearly not weather appropriate jacket. And right. Stanley really should remember to get checks and not cash. Checks were easy to hide, especially since he went about being a contract killer in the dumbest way. Instead of just getting in with one group and staying there with a consistent pay and a good public facing business set up for him, he traveled around and essentially worked commission. Granted he got his start making enemies, so maybe staying in one place wasn’t the best. Especially when he could then work for just about anyone he deemed not an immediate risk, instead of just one organization. No matter what though, he should get better about checks instead of cash. Too late now though. Stanley held his palm out and felt a small stack of hundred dollar bills hit his hand, with no small amount of worry. He clutched the bills and tilted his palm down, hiding them from any quick glances.

Stanley dropped the bills into the to go bag as he reached in, and pulled out a small container with the fries.

“I have extra if you want.” He said, opening the lid and turning them towards Higgins. The man seemed to writhe in his chair, face morphing into a performance of guilt. He was certainly new to this. Higgins got up with a rushed apology and excuse of having to get back home. Stanley watched him go and placed the fries back in the bag. Well, to the bank then. He should deposit the cash slowly, he knows this, but he’s fairly certain that the new semester is starting m at Backupsmore which means Ford will need to be spending his money on textbooks. Which means Stanley is going to be extra sure to pay for his tuition.

Stanley’s pretty sure he caught an article about Ford and some other guy proving something or other about the universe, and a few more campus newspapers mentioning the two of them spending time together. So his brother finally made a friend! He’d drive up and hug the nerd out of pride if he weren’t certain Ford wouldn’t be too willing to speak to him. He did figure though, that he had enough saved for an emergency that what he’d usually cut out of his pay for à ‘just in case’ could go to Ford’s friend instead. A brief line of phone books and library visits, as well as word of mouth, made it clear that the guy was also the first of his family to go to college. And was riding on a couple scholarships in order to just cover tuition, but probably still had to take out a loan or two. He wasn’t going to risk Ford’s friend having to drop out and leave him alone due to finances.

The face of the bank teller was of mild confusion when he went to deposit five hundred dollars. Just because he wasn’t waiting to deposit the money didn’t mean he was an idiot. He was just going to spend the day hopping between a few banks to do it in chunks. Stil suspicious on paper but he has a current guise of being ‘an artist’ so sudden large deposits because he ‘sold a painting’ at least didn’t get too many questions.

At the end of it all he ended up sending one thousand five hundred to Ford’s annual tuition, so he should be set for a while longer. Though the idiot of a genius was taking twelve different full courses and each individual course has its own lesser tuition so it wasn’t the full semester it would have been if his brother knew how to stop. Frankly that had been the main reason he’d stepped in, Ford probably could have managed the tuition for one or even two or three courses on his own but somewhere in his mind he’d decided that taking twelve was a good idea. Stanley’s sure Ford could have figured it out, but that’s his brother and he didn’t want Ford to have to figure it out.

He sent seven hundred to Ford's friends’ tuition after some double checking names, and so the apparent Fiddleford McGucket had one less thing to worry about.

That meant he had eight thousand remaining, he wouldn’t have to take another job for a while. A long while. Maybe he just goes to New Orleans as a vacation.

~~~~~~

Ford and Fiddleford were staring at the Backupsmore administrator. They’d gone to check up on what they had to pay for tuition, only to find out that not only had Ford’s gotten a significant amount paid(which was becoming an odd yet consistent occurrence) but Fiddleford’s as well.

The money had been wired in, which meant whoever sent it had a known bank account, but had apparently mandated anonymity. As far as the school administrators were aware, it could have been the king of England sending the money.

The walk back to their dorm was shared in stunned silence. It wasn’t until Ford was sitting on his bed that Fiddleford stopped pacing and stared out the window before gripping his hair and yelling, in the whisper yell mandates by shared walls, cried out.

“WHAT in the world is GOIN’ ON.”

Fiddleford turned to Ford, lowering his hands to gesture in confused annoyance.

“Well, we know whoever is sending this must have a lot of money on hand. And we have been covering a lot of neuroscience, and specifically how to alter brains- right? It’s probably some larger entity with stakes in our current research.” Ford posed, though his voice still tilted with unsureness.

“True, but you started getting the payments before the whole tie thing. So there must have been some sort of investment before then.” Fiddleford argued. Ford shrugged.

“I mean, I suppose the sheer number of courses I was taking may have been noteworthy?” He offered.

Fiddleford began to pace muttering to himself, before an idea seemed to strike him.

“Hey, if we can get into the school records and figure out what bank the money has been being wired from, maybe we can call them and ask for information?” Fiddleford suggested. Ford took a moment to think through the idea, before grinning and jumping up.

“Exactly! Even if we can’t get a name, we’ll still get a rough area and we can go through phone books until we find someone who has a ridiculous amount of disposable cash and a vested interest in both of us!” He exclaimed.

They were probably going to have to break into an office or something, hopefully childhood shenanigans with… his childhood shenanigans would help with that.

Bro you need to publish this on ao3 or post it on tumblr or SOMETHING because HOLY SHIT?!??!?!

THIS is exactly what I was imagining for the Au!!! This is fuckkng great!!! I LOVE LOVE THIS AND YOU AND AAAAAAAA

I imagine Fiddleford doesn't really worry about the random money Ford gets until HE starts getting it too. Then yeah he's freaking out because WHAT THE HECK??

I love this you wrote this so well, so nice and omg??? You did research??? That's more than I'd ever do XD

[therapyplacebo]

⋆˚｡⋆୨✧୧˚ 𝑺𝒐𝒎𝒆 𝒓𝒂𝒏𝒅𝒐𝒎 𝒁𝒂𝒚𝒏𝒆 𝒉𝒄𝒔 𝒕𝒉𝒂𝒕 𝒉𝒂𝒗𝒆 𝒃𝒆𝒆𝒏 𝒓𝒐𝒕𝒕𝒊𝒏𝒈 𝒎𝒚 𝒃𝒓𝒂𝒊𝒏 ˚୨✧୧⋆˚｡⋆

Keeps spare clothes for you at his office for whenever you drop by right after a shift at the association (Greyson pokes fun at him for doing so)

Secretly keeps a box full of drawings you guys made together as kids, tucked away in the back of his wardrobe.

He's the lightest sleeper ever—has a hard time falling/staying asleep but stubbornly won't admit that it might be insomnia

Speaking of sleeping; he always makes sure to send you a good morning text during his early rounds at the hospital (even though he knows you won't be awake for another hour)

Stocks your favourite flavour of gum/candy in the glove compartment—it grew on him even though he insists he hates it

Doesn't have a particular preference for music genre but adds a lot of the songs that you play whenever he drives to his playlist

Actually.... He definitely does NOT have a playlist but instead uses Liked Songs as one.

Cannot dance to save his life—his hands might be coordinated but the rest of his body sure isn't

Pretty big on privacy—all his socials are private and solely uses them because you keep tagging him on places you want to visit with him (he adds them to the long list he keeps in his notes app)

₊˚ ‿︵‿︵‿︵୨୧ · · ♡ · · ୨୧‿︵‿︵‿︵ ˚₊

My first time posting anything that isn't a fic or a one shot... This feels weird but also fun.

[chkinpotpie]

I feel things in a big way and have for as long as I can remember.

One of my earliest memories is seeing the world behind the protection of my mom's long and sturdy legs. She was larger than life and shielded me from the loud world coming at me. She was a fireball. She walked into a room and owned it. She could talk to anyone as if she had known them their whole life. I remember watching from behind her legs -seeing her interact with people and being in awe of her ability to connect with people from all walks of life. She was magnetic. People who got pulled into her field were changed forever. She saw no color, no dollar signs, no religion, no gender, no sexual preference, no judgment. She was pure goodness. I cannot say enough good things about her. She chose me, and I am so lucky she did.

About six months before she passed away, we rented a cabin at Rough River. Just the two of us. A "girl's weekend." We packed a cooler with filets and lobster tails. We brought a couple of bottles of wine, a deck of cards, and our swimsuits. We planned on indulging in all the good stuff—food, alcohol, gambling, and gossiping. On our way to our cabin, we stopped to get a few last-minute supplies at the local gas station in the middle of nowhere, Kentucky. My mom was pumping the gas as I returned with the provisions. A man a few pumps over said, "Elaine?!" That was my mom's name. We both turned, and she said, "Earl?!" running to the man as if he was her long-lost cousin. I stood, stuffing Hot Tamales in my mouth, watching the scene unfold.

My mom knew Earl from our local Bingo hall, where she volunteered once a week for the temple fundraiser. After working all day, she would walk back and forth for four hours at Bingo, selling pull tabs. She knew everyone, and everyone knew her. She didn't just know people, though—she KNEW them. The names of their kids, where they grew up, what TV show they were currently into, what beauty salon they went to, etc. So while I was surprised she knew some random guy named Earl out in the middle of BFE, Kentucky, hours from home and on our first visit to this area, I was not really shocked.

I needed someone so fierce to protect me from the world. It was too loud and scary when I was a child. She gave me the time I needed to understand it all, or at least think I did. She gave me the time I needed to build up my own protection. She certainly continues to provide me strength to this day. I know she is watching over me, and I draw on her strength more and more as we enter these challenging times.

I do not feel as deeply as I used to, but I still feel very deeply. I feel other people's energy, as if their souls are speaking to me in a language that has no words—just vibrations and feelings. Lately, I have felt a heaviness like I have never experienced. So many people are feeling scared, uncertain, angry, and confused. I feel it on my chest, like someone's foot is there, pushing their heel into my rib cage. It's tough to not feel this way when every time you turn on the news or check social media, there is an astonishing development that feels otherworldly. Like, seriously, how did we get here? I suspect we have always been on this path—greed, the quest for power, lust for control. I think we have been here for a long time, but as time goes on, the path is no longer a dirt road. It is a moving sidewalk with LED displays and state-of-the-art sound systems. It is information flooding our brains at ridiculous rates every day. It is accelerating in its growth. It is gaining power and momentum.

Fear is what it eats for dinner. Hate is a piece of warm apple pie for dessert. Division is a cup of espresso in the morning. Lack of compassion is a piece of wood-oven-baked pizza, and lack of empathy is a cold beer on the side. Making sure we do not remember our worth is guacamole, and arguing with random strangers on the internet is the chips and salsa. Forgetting that most of us want the same things is a pickle on the side of a corned beef sandwich.

Do not feed the fear. Our energy, our emotions, our thoughts are what create our world. Our inner voice narrates our life and shapes our reality. Realize you have a choice in who and what you let in. If you let someone or something in and it makes you feel scared and hopeless, and you don't want to feel those emotions, then do not let them in. Your energy is your own. It is precious. You are precious. Remember your worth. Remember a time when you knew how special you were. There was no question. Do things that remind you how incredible you are. Lean into your self-care, into moments that light your soul on fire.

Do not fall into the biggest trap fear has set for us all. Just because we are on the "good" side does not mean we should speak poorly about the "bad" side. We certainly CAN speak poorly about the "bad" side. It is hard not to in these crazy times we are living in. We are charged with emotion, and it needs to be released somewhere. Bad-mouthing the bad, however, only makes the bad grow. It feeds off the negative energy, even if the negative energy is being expressed for good reason. Do not feed the fear.

Instead, I invite you to join me and draw on my Mom's strength. You can hide behind her legs, build up your protective shield and strength until you are ready. Then you can lean into the feeling my mom and I had on our girl's weekend. Not a care in the world, as we sipped our Cabernet and dined on our grilled surf-n-turf. The next day, we floated in the lake for hours, playing "I Never" and talking about everything under the sun. That night, we went to the local church Bingo. Earl had told my mom about it and said he might be there. We pulled up to the quintessential little white country church. There were about 12 cars in the parking lot. We walked in, and the music stopped, and everyone looked up at us. Everyone, being about 25 people, including the caller. We got our cards and started playing, giggling to each other about the wild situations we get ourselves into. The top prize of the night was a $250 jackpot, the last game, and a coverall. Well, we won the damn jackpot. The locals, who had probably been attending this Bingo game for 50 years, were not happy. We quickly got paid and left a trail of dust as we screeched away and headed back to our cabin, counting our cash and dancing and just loving each other.

#Love is always the answer

#itsgoingtobeokay

#createyourreality

[cosmowgyral]

"The Vicious Wildcat is Clumsily Affectionate"

▪︎ Kagari's 1st Birthday

This is a fan translation so please don't expect it to be 100% accurate. Creative liberties have been taken. All content belongs to Cybird. Reblogs are appreciated. Hope you enjoy!

This is my very first time translating/reading a Kagari event and since he is not yet out in the EN server, there might be terms that will turn out different than what I have used here when he is finally released.

Chapter 2

Man with a horrid appearance: What is with this guy?

Emma: I…I won’t let you take even one step beyond this point!

In a back alley, isolated from the hustle and bustle of the town people, I came across some tough-looking men.

I gasped at the weapons hanging from their waists, but I unsheathed the sword that Prince Kagari had given to me.

Man with a horrid appearance: I don’t really get it, but you know us, don’t you?

(��..No, I have no idea.)

Man with a horrid appearance: Let’s go.

The men drew their swords laughing vilely.

They were real ones, different from my replica.

The blades were aimed at me- but before anything could happen, the man at the front was crushed by a shadow that fell from the sky.

Man with a horrid appearance: What?!

Kagari: It’s a shame.

In the blink of an eye, the men were blown away along with their swords.

They got slammed into the wall and fell to the ground with their eyes rolled up.

The fight was over within seconds, without Prince Kagari having to draw out his sword.

(I will never get used to seeing his extraordinary strength.)

Kagari: I don’t feel any sense of accomplishment. I wanted to face enough strength to draw my sword.

(…..I wonder how many people exist in Kogyoku who are worthy of being a match for Prince Kagari.)

When I came to my senses and tried to pull out my fake sword, Prince Kagari spun around and grabbed my hand.

Kagari: Princess, the correct stance is this.

Emma: I see…

Kagari: Also, being hesitant amidst a battle is prohibited.

Emma: I didn’t notice.

Kagari: I thought so. Even in the guise of a subordinate, you look weak.

Emma: ….Sorry

(I’m only an amateur so please forgive me.)

(I never thought I would be asked to help with a capture.)

While holding my hand, he puts his other palm on my waist.

As I straightened my back with effort, Prince Kagari looked satisfied despite his expressionless face.

Cat: Meow…

Kagari: Ah, wait.

(A cat?)

A cat appeared out of nowhere and rubbed against Prince Kagari’s feet.

He knelt down, patted his head, and gave him a small folded piece of paper.

The cat quickly picked up the paper and left.

Emma: That was…

Kagari: Mike no. 1

(That’s a weird name.)

Kagari: He often wanders around the town. If you want to contact me, you can rely on him.

Emma: Not a carrier pigeon….but a carrier cat.

Kagari: Yeah

(He’s a good cat. I’ll remember him.)

Emma: The paper you gave him….

Kagari: I called my subordinates. It is always a pain to clean up afterwards.

Prince Kagari answered calmly as he stood up and looked down at the men lying nearby.

Kagari: This is a ‘present’ given to me every year amidst all these birthday celebrations.

Kagari: I was hoping for a worthy opponent, but I got disappointed again this year.

(Someone sends him assassins on his birthday?)

Prince Kagari is the faction’s main fighting force and the trump card of this territory.

As long as Kogyoku’s yasha is present, the safety of the territory is guaranteed, so it’s no surprise that there are people who would attempt to breach the ironclad defense.

(But to target him even on a special day like this..)

Kagari: Princess

Prince Kagari presses his thumb between my eyebrows.

(….I wonder if my eyebrows were furrowed.)

Kagari: You will still be my subordinate.

Emma: Are you okay with such a weak subordinate?

Kagari: This will make it easier for them to attack.

Kagari: You’re the only one who can be such a tempting bait.

(If being together like this helps Prince Kagari….)

Emma: I’ll do my best as a bait.

⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯ㅤ𔘓 ⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯

Men in town: Happy birthday, Prince Kagari!

Town woman: Dorayaki is being baked all over town today. In fact, there’s hardly a single store that isn’t baking them….!

As soon as he stepped onto the main street, Prince Kagari was swarmed by townspeople.

Kagari: ..Yeah

He shows no interest in the wishes and gifts that shower him, and his reaction is just as empty as it was at the castle.

(Everyone is smiling and their words sound sincere, so why do I feel something strange in their attitude?)

I need to listen more carefully and pick up words.

Men in town: It’s thanks to Prince Kagari that we can live in such peace.

Town woman: Please protect us forever. We will do anything to achieve this…!

(…..)

(Oh, I see. This is….)

(It’s just a way to win over Prince Kagari’s favour.)

(Everyone is celebrating because he is essential to the peace of this territory.)

(But it is still a celebration….)

Town woman: By the way, Prince Kagari, have you received greetings from Emma yet?

The sound of my name made me leap.

Kagari: I haven’t received it.

Town woman: In that case, I’ll make sure to tell her to wish you the next time we meet.

Town woman: I have no doubt that her wish will please you the most.

Knowing people’s thoughts, I started to realise the full amount of the pressure I was under to celebrate the Yasha.

 (…I don’t think celebrations should be forced.)

What welled up inside me was more than just frustration; it was a feeling of sadness.

(I hesitated to celebrate earlier because Prince Kagari didn’t seem interested in the celebrations at all….)

(I think we should celebrate him properly. Not to appease him or anything like that….)

Emma: Prince Kagari

To get through the crowd quickly, I casually grabbed his hand.

Men in town: By the way, Prince Kagari, it seems you have brought along an aide we have never seen before.

Kagari: He’s my new subordinate and is also quite a skilled swordsman. You all should be careful.

Kagari: If he draws his sword, he can easily cut off your heads.

The lie delivered with a straight face seemed incredibly effective; so I took advantage of them being flustered and hesitant, and quickly pulled Prince Kagari’s hand and left the place in a hurry.

⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯ㅤ𔘓 ⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯

After receiving several more ‘presents’, Prince Kagari headed to the banquet as the sky began to darken.

Kagari: I had an appointment today.

[Chapter 1] [Masterlist] [Chapter 3]

[velvetvexations]

I've said it before I'll say it again but it's 100% the double fucking standard I see in trf spaces that fucking gets to me more than anything. Like I've been thinking recently about a post I saw a long time ago (so I might be remembering a bit wrong) with a narrative perspective of a trans woman in the Pacific Northwest iirc talking to a trans guy who was asking about why trans women are often on edge militant etc and how he talked about like forced pregnancy and sexual assault and she was like that's all horrible but (internal monologue) do you understand what it's like to be stared at in public and constantly guarded against and seen as a lesser being always all the time. And like the point was to be that trans women face a lot of things that are socially isolating and traumatizing that aren't always acknowledged or noticed and I get that and it was a good point but what got me and what has this turning around in my head ever since is this assumption that trans men and mascs Don't experience that. That people viewed as "masculine women" or just generally "gender variant thing that probably has a vagina" Don't experience the same isolating and traumatizing shit. Like all the posts that are like "trans men sharing tips about haircuts while trans women share tips about self defence" like the just blatant assumption that other people don't experience these things just because you do really gets my goat. Most of the things I've seen claimed as transfem or transmasc specific experiences are not specific to any type of trans person and I've seen multiple examples of the "other" type of trans person experiencing that self same thing. (It's not just trfs (regardless of gender) that do that. They've just been really loud lately and hense draw my ire) Like maybe I'm biased as a transfemmasc person but everyone who claims there are gender exclusive experiences are unimaginative and exclusionary.

It's very frustrating, I'm sorry anon. <3 You shouldn't be erased like that.

[faerygrant]

winter baby

warnings: smut, breeding kink, general filth, swearing.

notes: carmen rushes you into the staff bathroom during family, in order to fulfill the goal the two of you are hoping to achieve by next winter.

Attending family at the bear had recently become a normal part of your daily schedule. Not only did you get to enjoy the staffs expert cooking, but you were also granted a little more time spent with your favourite man. Carmen always insisted you joined the staff, because to him and them, you are part of the bear family. You’d never been one for exhibitionism but recently both you and Carmy had decided you wanted to add a Berzatto baby to your home by next winter. Ever since that conversation, the two of you were insatiable. Disgusting almost, in the bedroom, the shower, Carmen’s office and you hated to admit it, but also in Richie’s car.

So here the two of you were, sat at the table with the staff, as Tina went on with a story, something about her time at culinary school, you weren’t sure at this point, especially with Carmen’s hands discreetly wrapped around your upper thigh. As Tina continued with her story, and laughter filled the room, Carmen had become bold enough to start touching you. You couldn’t stop the gasp that left your mouth once his fingers made way into you, his eyes flying to yours, so dark and full of need…hunger.

“You good?” Richie is the first to look at you, and you quickly nod in embarrassment. “Yeah I’m fine, just bit my tongue.” He nods, buying into your lie, as does the rest of the table. Carmen seemingly impressed with your acting decides to push his fingers deeper into you. “Y’did good f’me, but I’m going to remove them inna sec.” He whispers, pressing a kiss to your ear, to mask the small conversation the two of you were having. “Bu— why?” You silently whimper, as you feel him slowly pull his fingers out. “Theres no need wasting your orgasm, you know my seed will only take if you finish, so I need you to go to the bathroom right now, I’ll meet you in there.” You nod, at the same time you feel his fingers fully leaving from inside you.

“Excuse me guys, just gonna use the washroom.” You announce, and the staff all nod, oblivious to what was really about to go down. As you push open the bathroom door, you wait patiently, wondering what kind of excuse Carmen would be coming up with, as to not draw any suspicion to the real, dirty reason he was following you into here. Soon enough you heard a tap at the door and you made quick work of unlocking it, and in came Carmen.

“Take it out, need to fill you.” He groaned as he wrapped his arms around you waist, proceeding to hike up your skirt. You swiped your underwear to the side, revealing your aching pussy. Fumbling forward while he balanced you on the wall, you pulled his cock out of his pants. Red with want, you spat on your hand, smearing it along his length as best you could. Being sure to coat the head thoroughly, slipping down to your waiting entrance.

You couldn’t stop the loud yelp that left your mouth, pleading with him for more, “Fuck, more Carm…”

You closed your eyes, humming as he plunged in deeper. Both of you sucked in a breath as he seated himself fully, “Gimme a baby Carm,” your lips met his with a feral hunger, Carmen rested his forehead on yours, “I promise I will give you one, but right now I need you to focus on taking it all ok?”

“Need it all carmy, want it dripping out of me…”

A small thrust, jolting your head to slam back into the wall with a thud. You giggled a little before slinging your arm around his neck. Carmy kissed your forehead, softly thrusting inside you, barely moving more than an inch. Deep pressure that settled in your gut like a rock, you tightened around him.

You whimperd again, “Yessss…”

He huffed against your sweating skin, thrusting shallowly inside you. Bumping you against the wall in a soft thud, you clutched just shoulders. Digging in through the fabric as you leaned forward. Bringing your lips to suction to his throat, echoing a moan when you made contact.

Carmen choked as you ran your teeth across his skin, voice booming in your ear, “Jesus-fuck angel, I’m gonna cum.” He ground inside you hard, rumbling around your sensitive walls over and over in small circles. You squelched around his length, holding on for dear life.

You wanted his cum-you’d been thinking about it since you left for work in the morning, and on your way to the restaurant. Nodding as he slammed his hips into yours, stilling. You panted on his shoulder, staring into the mirror on the opposite wall.

Wide-eyed, mouth popped open in pleasure, peering over his massive shoulder. Broad back flexing under his signature white shirt while he fucked you, clenching at how submissive you looked. Legs open around his hips, eyeliner running down your face.

“Don’t want a single drop going to waste, okay?” he huffed.

You didn’t break eye contact with his striking blue eyes, nodding in agreement.

“Yes, Carmy.”

[youknowwho-mustnotbenamed]

February 01 - Honey | word count: 672 | @black-brothers-microfic

They are sitting in the common room, a bottle of firewhiskey making it’s rounds. Regulus had already regretted agreeing to come when he first entered the Room of Requirement to find his brother and his friends already gathered around the fireplace. But he had already been spotted, and he could hardly deny his boyfriend as he made grabby hands to pull Regulus onto his lap. That’s where he sits now, in one of the two chairs while his brother and Remus occupy the other, leaving Barty, Evan, Dorcas, Marlene, and Peter on spare cushions and pillows on the ground.

He rests his head back against James’ shoulder, letting himself get lost in the feeling of James’ fingers in his hair, gently soothing the building ache. He’s been undeniably lucky with James, who somehow always manages to sense what Regulus needs, and gives it to him without question.

“What’s the worse injury you’ve had?” Marlene asks, and Regulus instantly tenses up. Out of all the questions that could have come from her mouth, it is the one that a majority of the people in this room would find uncomfortable. “I sprained my collarbone while playing rugby in primary school.”

“I fell from a tre—wait, no. My worst was when that bludger knocked me from my broom and I broke like ten bones.” James says, almost boasting as though the memory of that day doesn’t put an ache in Regulus’ bones. He had been worried sick, afraid the other boy might not wake up, or if he did, that the damage would be too severe to ever play Quidditch again.

“Mrs. Norris caught me while in animagus form last year.” Peter shudders. “I still have the scars from her teeth.”

“I think we all know what mine is.” Remus says, voice heavy. Sirius shifts in his seat, curling around Remus the best he can, as though that will shield him from the monster living in his own body. He tucks his face into Remus’ neck, muttering something there. Cheeks burning as he unwillingly intrudes in a private moment, Regulus turns to James.

“Potion explosion because somebody wasn’t paying attention.”

“You can hardly blame me when you are far more interesting than any potion we could have been brewing.”

“Uh, huh.”

“My blood oath with Evan.” Barty says, drawing everybody’s attention to him. He merely grins, wiggling his eyebrows at Evan.

“Your what?” How could he have missed two of the most important people in his live taking a blood oath? His curiosity lasts for as long as it takes for the devilish grin to materialize on Barty’s face. “You know what, I don’t want to know.”

“What about you, Sirius?”

“I think… oh! The time I was attacked by a nest of hornets.”

“I’m sorry, you were what?”

“I haven’t told you guys this one? Oh, its great!”

“It’s not great, Sirius. It was stupid and unnecessarily risky.”

“Well now I have to know.” James insists.

“Well, little Reggie here wanted honey on his toast, but we didn’t have any.”

“And instead of asking Kreacher like anybody else would have, the idiot went and—”

Sirius reaches over and clamps his hand over Regulus’ mouth. “Don’t spoil the story. Stop licking me, Reg. Anyway, I was, I don’t know, nine? ten? either way, there was this bee’s nest in the garden. Nobody ever told me there were different kinds of bees, let alone different kinds of nests. I thought they were all the same thing. Honey came from bees, and bees lived in that nest. So, I climbed on a nearby bench and pulled it down.”

“Sirius.” James gasps through laughter. “Why?”

“I thought I was being a good brother! I had no idea I was going to be attacked.”

Regulus pries Sirius’ hand from his mouth, “The idiot was bedridden for a week.”

“It was worth it.”

“How? What part of that entire incident was ‘worth it’?”

“We got to spend that whole week together, and mother couldn’t do anything about it.”

[tj-dragonblade]

[Fluffbruary FIC] Without Warning Something's Dawning (Listen)

Fandom: The Sandman Pairing: Dreamling Rated: T Word Count: 659 Tags: Fluffbruary, Fluffbruary 2025, Human AU, Rich Guy Dream, Mechanic Hob, scent, feelings contemplation, mild Dream-typical angst

Notes: Coming out of left field, we have a surprise fluff entry in the Turbo Lover universe! My brain saw 'green' and 'grey' and went straight to the clothes left on the couch last time around. 'Anticipation' is always an easy theme with this AU as well. Title of course from the Judas Priest song that I named the series after and Dream really ought to take that parenthetical to heart.

Fluffbruary 2025 Prompts: Day 4: green | grey | chess Day 5: anticipation | nonsense | mail

Summary: Dream wanders through his thoughts about Hob

On AO3

It is late afternoon by the time Dream gets to the clothes left in the drawing room. Hob had spent the morning with him lounging in the sunny bay window of the breakfast nook, resplendent in the skimpy teal green dressing gown Dream had gifted him, animatedly discussing literature through the ages. It was a delightful surprise to discover this commonality between them, that Hob was excited to debate the merits of Shakespeare and expound on his favorites from Byron or Chaucer or Austen or Marlowe, and morning had passed into the noon hour before Dream realized it.

Reluctantly then he had retrieved Hob's original clothing from yesterday, from before they had picked up the suit, and once Hob was dressed Dream had driven him home in the Porsche. Or rather, Hob had driven with Dream in the passenger seat, watching how naturally he handled the damned temperamental machine, admiring the flex of his arms and hands as he shifted and steered and sneaking glances at the bright joy in his face.

It warms him even now, back at his quiet and empty house, the Porsche back in the garage, to recall the way Hob had glowed with delight, the grin he sported the whole drive, how right he looked settled in the car that Dream had never felt any true pride in until now.

He likes that Hob is happy driving his car; more specifically, he likes that driving his car makes Hob happy.

He likes making Hob happy.

Hob's happiness brings him happiness.

And he is happy, now, gathering last night's discarded clothing from the green velvet couch, reminded of how it came to be scattered about. He still aches in all the right places, a lingering and welcome memento of their tryst. Hob is so good to him, so giving, indulging anything Dream wants and everything Dream asks of him, with enthusiasm.

They match so perfectly. Dream is forever grateful that he found his way to Matthew's Motor Repairs when the Porsche's clutch went out; Hob is truly the best thing to happen to him in a very long time.

He smiles, picking up Hob's silk shirt, remembering how perfect the vibrant dark teal-green color had looked on Hob, how it burnished the warm tones of his skin and set off the silver threads in his hair—just as Dream had known it would. He drapes the shirt over his arm and lifts the grey suit jacket, shaking it out, bringing the lapels to his face and inhaling. Hob's cologne still clings faintly to the fabric, intertwined with the scent of Hob himself, and Dream feels a rush of anticipation for the next time that he can take it in first-hand, that he can twine himself into Hob's arms and bury his face at the base of Hob's throat, breathe him in, bask in the warmth and the strength of him. The thought curls soft in his stomach and he lets it settle, gathers Hob's trousers and his own rumpled clothing as well, sets it all in a pile. He will have it all delivered to his laundry service to clean and press and return, that he might dress Hob in his lovely ensemble once again, show him off on the town again, bring him home and strip him out of it again.

Hob, he knows, will let him do all of it willingly. Will participate joyously, with warmth and enthusiasm and that beautiful smile, with that bright sparkle in his eye, with heady delight in fulfilling Dream's wishes.

He is more than Dream deserves, and surely Dream will not be able to keep him forever. All things fade; once upon a time he had thought making Alex happy was the key to fulfillment, after all.

But he will keep Hob as long as he can, in whatever way he can and bask in their mutual happiness for as long as he can make it last.

= Started: 2/3/25 Drafted: 2/4/25 Posted: 2/5/25

Previously in the series, in case AO3 is down: Customer Service With Every Nerve Alive Loyalty Rewards Program Shift to Overdrive Love Machines in Harmony

[misforvendetta]

i just can't do this anymore, fem!viktor lives in my thoughts completely rent free, and i think about her constantly, so…

some of my thoughts about fem!viktor (viktoria). you can consider it modern uni au or something like that. and my lil collage!

i think viktoria is lonely. she has been lonely all her life. she always felt like a burden, an outcast, ‘not enough’, although she carefully hid it under the mask of quiet indifference. viktoria has no friends. she had a friend, sky, who moved to another city, and now the girls rarely see each other. but viktoria has already gotten used to it. she began to call her loneliness ‘a solitude’ a long time ago, noting that it was definitely her choice, and not the unfair pranks of life.

i think viktoria would have liked to have a friend group. you know, the kind where everyone is like sisters to each other, where there is support and warmth and care, where there is laughter and sleepovers and good moments. but, unfortunately, viktoria always ended up being unfriended. she tried to be part of a group of girls, but she always was the one who was hobbling along the road at the back, while a few of her friends walked in front. she didn't blame them. she knew she was pretty hard to be with.

i think viktoria is not really interested in the beauty industry. she perceived the standards imposed by society as stupidity that does not deserve so much attention. but then why was she always laughed at because of her hairy legs? is it really so hard for people to understand that it is quite difficult for a girl, who can barely walk, to shave her body? and that she simply does not want to waste her time on something that will bring her back pain, unwanted cuts and irritation on her sensitive skin? what a nonsense...

i think viktoria's life is not as terrible as it might seem at first. there are white stripes between the dark ones. she's not one to give in to despair, after all. viktoria loves to study. she loves science. any kind of science. she loves solving sudoku, taking herself on dates to coffee shops or libraries, she loves to draw a little. viktoria, although far from knowing how to do makeup, loves to treat herself to a nice-smelling lip balm or a pretty hair clip. it's not that she's picky about it. it's just the little things that make her life better. she also loves animals, children, potted flowers, cool weather and comfortable loose clothes. she loves rainy mornings and green tea when coffee is too much for her body. yeah, her life is definitely not that bad.

I think viktoria met jayce completely by accident. he was her classmate and, surprisingly, was not as ‘popular guy’ as he could have been with his looks. they were paired up to do a chemistry lab assignment. then, if viktoria hadn’t corrected jayce’s formula, there could have been an explosion. a small one, but still unpleasant. jayce realized then that he was head over heels in love. and viktoria realized that he was a silly guy. they then went to have lunch together during the long break in the backyard of the university. viktoria was surprised that jayce didn’t walk too fast, adjusting to a pace that was comfortable for her. for the first time in her life, she didn’t have to catch up with someone.

i think when viktoria had her birthday, jayce prepared a little surprise for her. he made her a notebook and a hydrangea pendant himself, because those were her favorite flowers. viktoria was amazed then — she had never received such a thoughtful gift. and jayce got his first kiss on the cheek that wonderful morning.

i think viktoria had a lot of insecurities, although she didn’t show it. she thought she was too tacky for jayce. too awkward, too unhealthy, too ugly, too… jayce interrupted this train of thought one cool winter evening when they were sitting in his room, wrapped in a soft blanket, and eating chips. he asked if he could kiss viktoria. and he blushed really badly. the kiss was awkward: a little slobbery, there were crumbs everywhere, and they bumped noses a couple of times. but they were happy.

i think viktoria loves jayce. and jayce loves viktoria.

[yunholic-jongholic]

Breaking the Silence | K.YS x Reader

SUMMARY | Yeosang was always quiet during sex, his shyness making him hold back. But his silence only fueled your determination—you went at it rougher, eager to draw out those sweet, reluctant moans from him.

PAIRINGS | Soft Dom!Yeosang x Fem!Reader

RATING | Mature, 18+, NSFW, MDNI!!!

CONTENT WARNINGS | One Shot, NSFW, SMUT, Explicit Content, Smut without Plot, Hair Pulling, Unprotected Sex (Don't do it), Cowgirl Position, Multiple Orgasms, Creampie, Hair pulling, Shower Sex, Blow Job/Oral Sex. (Sorry If I missed some!)

WORD COUNT | 1.5k

AUTHOR NOTE | Had to make a baby girl fanfic for my baby girl Yeo. <3 I love this man so much he is my baby girl. that's my baby girl.

•

After finishing a passionate session with Yeosang, you headed to the shower, your mind focused on how to elicit those pleasurable moans from him during your next encounter. You were aware of his deep affection for you, yet he remained quite shy. You have always wanted to hear him moan since you've both been making love with each other.

Your relationship with Yeosang has lasted three years, and he’s one of the shyest guys you’ve ever dated. But that’s something you’ve always loved about him. You’d gently encourage him to step out of his shell, and when he wasn’t ready, you respected his boundaries. Over time, he grew incredibly comfortable around you.

After your shower, you got dressed and settled into bed. Yeosang sleepily wrapped his arms around you, pulling you close. The warmth of his embrace was comforting, and soon, the two of you drifted off to sleep, cuddled together.

The next morning, you woke up to find the bed empty. Letting out a soft sigh, you got up and made your way to the kitchen, where you found Yeosang quietly sipping his drink. You sat beside him and smiled at him.

"Good morning, sleep well?" you asked, your voice still soft with sleep. Yeosang nodded with a gentle smile. "Very. Wish I hadn’t woken up so early, though," he replied, then offered you, his drink. You accepted it with a polite smile, taking a small sip. Standing up, he glanced back at you. "Do you want anything for breakfast?"

"Well, I’m not really hungry, but I’ll take some of the coffee you made!" you replied cheerfully. You got up, walked over to him, and wrapped your arms around his neck, pulling him close for a soft, tender kiss.

"Do you think you could go for another round?" You looked up at him. Yeosang stared at you silently, his eyes soft and filled with a quiet warmth. His hands gently found their way to your waist, holding you close. "How are you not exhausted after last night?" Yeosang murmured, kissing you back. In that moment, you realized you couldn’t get enough of him—you craved even more.

"Actually, this time I want to do the work. If that is okay with you?" You started deepening your kiss with him. He lifts you up and carries you back to the bed. "Are you sure? If you get tired, I can take over." Yeosang spoke before attaching his lips on yours. You softly slid your clothes off along with Yeosang's and dropped them on the floor somewhere.

"I want you to relax this morning Yeosang, you did a lot of work last night for me. I want to return the favor." You pull back and switch sides with Yeosang, getting on top of him fully making out with him for a few minutes. You felt his hands travel to your hips softly caressing the skin making you shiver.

Damn why is he so good at this. You think to yourself, but you want to compete with him and see if you can get your shy sensitive boyfriend to moan your name for once during sex. You played with his hair twirling it in your fingers as his mouth moved down to your neck leaving feathery kisses.

"Wait. I thought I was supposed to be doing the work." You laughed softly at his actions. Yeosang pulled back apologizing to you, "I am sorry, I just love you so much." Yeosang let out a nervous laugh, his eyes locked with yours, filled with a mix of anticipation and warmth. Leaning in closer, you softly whispered for him to lie down on the bed, gently guiding him back with a tender touch. You got on his lap, and he held his hand out for you to grab and hold yourself if you needed help.

You aligned his cock to your entrance as you slowly went down on him causing you to moan already. "Yeosang..." You moaned his name closing your eyes slightly biting your lip. Yeosang let an exhale out at the feeling and interlocked your fingers together. With your other hand you rested it on his chest as you shifted to get more comfortable before you started moving.

"Fuck." You cursed grinding softly against him trying to get more friction, but you felt already tired especially after last night. Yeosang sat up and wrapped his hands around your waist helping you move causing you to whine and moan his name even more.

"You already need my help?" Yeosang panted, gazing into your eyes. Instead of answering, you kissed him, moaning into his mouth. He slid his tongue in, engaging in a playful battle for dominance, which you willingly surrendered. In an instant, he pushed you onto the bed, lifting your legs around his waist as he began to thrust into you.

"Ah, Yeosang!" you gasp, throwing your head back as you feel him fill you completely. Yeosang leans down, his warm breath brushing against your skin. You run your fingers through his hair, moaning in delight as he thrusts deeply inside you.

"Oh my god..." Yeosang whispered, his hand gently caressing your waist as he held you tightly. Finally, you heard him moan as your insides clenched around him, pulling him in deeper. You opened your eyes in surprise, feeling a thrilling spark of excitement.

"Y/N." Yeosang moaned again, attempting to stifle his sounds. A wave of pure pleasure washed over you as you relished the sound of his moans. Pulling him close, you kissed him deeply, and soon both of you were moaning into each other's mouths. He huffed pulling back, a string of saliva connecting both of your lips as he licked it away.

He kept moving and finally he whispered to you, "I am close... Let's cum together." He reconnected your lips together.

"Yeosang!" You pulled back as you now felt his finger rub circles over your clit driving you towards the edge. You soon became a complete mess underneath him. Yeosang released his hot liquid inside you and sat up panting hard. You felt him pull out and look down at you panting heavily exhausted from the session. You looked up at him and sat up breathing heavily.

"God your moaning... It was so hot." You mentioned causing Yeosang to blush shyly. "I am sorry if that was weird for you to hear me..." He helped you up and walked you to the shower with him.

"I always have wanted to hear you moan. I was hoping this time I would get to hear you, and it worked!" You smiled as he started the water and went inside with you to take a shower. You both washed each other but you felt weak on your legs after the last session.

"Y/N, you should take a nap; I can grab us some breakfast," Yeosang said, kissing the top of your head. You shook your head, signaling that you wanted to stay up a bit longer. He sighed, finishing up in the shower. A mischievous thought crossed your mind about getting him to moan using just your mouth. As he prepared to step out, you stopped him and sank to your knees. He fell silent, nervous about what was about to unfold.

You couldn’t help but smirk at his reaction before gently taking his cock in one hand and softly kissing the tip. You licked it softly before taking it fully in your mouth. Yeosang hissed at the feeling and bit his lip not expecting you to go this far. You felt his fingers tangle in your hair before you started moving your head swirling your tongue over the shaft as you continued to suck him off. Yeosang let out a soft moan throwing his head back slightly. He started moving you while nonstop moaning now.

"Y/N. Fuck." He hissed as your tongue flicked over the slit causing him to release precum. You felt your face and core get hot feeling extremely aroused again just by him moaning. Yeosang bit his lip eyes clouded with lust and pleasure as he started fucking your throat. He was practically pulling your hair and was thrusting like an animal in your mouth. He finally released one last moan before pulling out and you started stroking with your hand as he came. Yeosang huffed out before realizing what happened and immediately apologizing to you and washing you off as the mess he made.

"I am so sorry... I would have told you if I would have known..." He pulled you up and started cleaning you again. You only just looked at him and told him it was okay. "I wanted this Yeosang." You softly kissed his cheek, and he looked at you feeling completely embarrassed. You turned the water off and saw how tired he looked.

"I can go get us breakfast while YOU nap." You laugh as you both dried up and got dressed. He wrapped his arms around you as you brushed his hair. "Well can we stay in today and just relax?" Yeosang looked down at you and you nod kissing him really quick before taking him to the bed and leaving out to go get something to eat for both of you to share and relax in bed.

•

I got nothing else to say. Just soft Yeosang. I love Yeosang. Good day everyone!