#you think people are weird only at night?

[catrasredemption]

Man this one hit hard.

My mom raised me pretty much by herself - she had her family helping, and technically I have a stepfather, but he was useless and the rest of her family had their own damn lives.

When I was in third grade, we learned about the American Revolution, and we did a little classroom play based on it about if the war was a baseball game (idk man, the 90s were weird). All the big people in the war were baseball players - Washington, Hamilton, etc. for the Americans, King George et. all for the British - and I forget who I was, but I was the person who hit the winning home run that gave Americans the game (I think I might have been Lafayette?).

Parents are invited to see the one-day play, which is in the middle of the day during school time. I get it, it's hard to get out of work. My grandparents were sick so they couldn't come. But my mother promised up and down, over and over, left and right, that she would absolutely be there. It was a really big deal to me, I'd never been in a play or had an event that needed to be attended. I was excited. I wanted my mom to see me get the winning home run.

She showed up five minutes after the play ended. I was absolutely devastated. She apologized, she said she hadn't been able to get out of work. I cried.

And that pretty much set the tone for the rest of my life.

She managed to make it to my fourth and fifth grade chorus concerts, which was great because I had leads in all of them, but she never enjoyed it much and made it pretty obvious. She was the same way about my high school band concerts - worse, honestly, because I think she stopped caring about hurting my feelings.

When I turned twelve, my grandfather said he wanted to have a birthday party for me at his house (it was kind of a big deal because I always had my birthdays at that house, except for the year before because my grandmother died and we just didn't want to celebrate there). My mother said she'd get the day off work. She got the day off work. We're all gathered at my grandfather's house eating cake while I unwrap my presents, aaaaaaaand her phone rings. It's work. They need her to come in. She can't say no. It was the last birthday I had at my grandparents' house, and we ended up cutting it short because she never learned how to say no.

Fast forward to age twenty-six, when I'm getting married. My mother makes a big fuss about it because the wedding is in Texas, and she lives in Massachusetts. She is, by the way, the only blood relative I have in attendance at the wedding (my aunt and her husband were going to come, but there was a medical emergency with my sixteen-year-old cousin and they didn't want to leave him. Totally understandable). My mom shows up at 10pm the night before the wedding, makes it obvious she's miserable the entire ceremony and reception, then leaves at 5am the next morning because, you guessed it, she couldn't miss too much work.

I'm 33 now. My mother has never visited me - we always have to go to her. She will absolutely never take the time off to get on a plane and come see the life I made for myself. I know this, it sucks, but I'm used to it by now. That's just how she is.

I don't have a kid yet, but I am going to make damn well sure that in thirty-some odd years, my own child isn't on the next version of Tumblr rewriting this story with their own experiences.

my parents never came to anything I did.

I have so many memories about this, but one in particular: when I was away at camp with 89 other teenagers, and at the one-month mark the post was collected distributed to all the dorms. 89 other children tore open their boxes and, shovelling handfuls of sweets their parents had sent them into their mouths, read pages-long letters and handed around photos of their brothers and sisters.

I didn't. I didn't get anything, I sat on my empty bed watching them. The teachers had to call my parents and ask if perhaps the post had gone missing...? but my parents were surprised they were required to interact with me while I was away.

Well, today, my 3-year-old daughter had a fun-run. The childcare centre invited parents to come but stressed that if we weren't able to, it was alright. There was no fucking way I wasn't going. My daughter wasn't going to be the only child there without a parent watching.

I got time off work and stood there in the beating sun and plastered in greasy sunscreen waiting to see my little girl emerge from inside the centre and stand on the track.

When she did, her little eyes searched through the crowd person-by-person for me, and absolutely lit up like the sun when she spotted me.

Mine filled with tears as I waved at her and cheered.

I'm breaking the cycle.

[dissapointu]

Hello, I wanted to ask you a little drabble with all the arcane characters.

Like how they fell in love with reader ( like what captured their attention etc)

It would be pretty cool in my opinion.

Have a wonderful day\night.

Aaaugh, I made of made this a bit long-(really long, that was sarcasm) I'm splitting it into two portions

Jinx-

Jinx didn’t know what to make of you at first. You weren’t loud or flashy like the people she was used to dealing with. You weren’t trying to prove anything, and yet, there was something about you that screamed different.

She first noticed it when you didn’t flinch at one of her explosions—not the way most people did, anyway. The boom had rattled the room, shaking dust from the rafters, and yet, there you were, brushing soot from your shirt like it was just another Tuesday.

“Nice touch with the blue sparks,” you’d said, nodding at her latest contraption. “Adds flair.”

Flair? Most people would’ve called it destruction. Most people would’ve screamed or run. But you? You tilted your head, eyes bright, genuinely impressed, and for a moment, Jinx was at a loss for words.

It wasn’t just that you didn’t fear her; it was the way you saw her. You noticed the little things—the care she put into her work, the way she tinkered endlessly to perfect her machines. While others saw chaos, you saw art, and for someone like Jinx, that was everything.

The next time she saw you, it was intentional. She didn’t need to bring you a gadget she’d been working on—it wasn’t even finished—but she wanted to see how you’d react. Sure enough, you examined it like it was the most fascinating thing in the world, pointing out details she hadn’t realized anyone else would notice.

“This is genius,” you murmured, tracing a finger along a carved design she’d barely remembered adding. “You really think through every detail, don’t you?”

Her heart did something weird then, like skipping a beat but more… explosive.

From there, it snowballed. You became her favorite person to show her creations to, the only one she trusted to see her work before it was ready. You never judged, never laughed when something misfired—just smiled and asked how you could help.

And Jinx? She realized she’d fallen for you one day when she caught herself trying to impress you. The realization hit her like a grenade: she didn’t just want you to like her inventions—she wanted you to like her.

“You’re somethin’ else, you know that?” she said one night, leaning against her workbench, tools scattered around her. Her voice was softer than usual, almost unsure. “Most people don’t get me, but… you do.”

You’d just smiled, that easy, genuine smile that had hooked her from the start. “That’s because you’re worth getting.”

And just like that, Jinx knew there was no going back.

Vi –

Vi wasn’t looking for anyone. She didn’t have time for soft moments, not with everything she had on her plate. But then you came along, and she couldn’t help but notice how you carried yourself—steady, calm, unshakable.

The first time she really noticed you, it wasn’t some grand, sweeping moment. It was quiet. You were helping some kids in the Lanes patch up a rickety swing they used to pass the time. Nothing fancy, just you, a coil of rope, and that determined look in your eyes.

She hadn’t meant to stop and watch, but something about you drew her in. Maybe it was the way you didn’t hesitate to get your hands dirty or how the kids laughed around you, their faces lighting up despite everything the Lanes threw at them.

“You’re good with them,” she said after working up the nerve to approach you, trying to sound casual.

You glanced up at her, wiping sweat from your brow, and gave her a smile that hit her like a sucker punch. “Someone’s gotta be. They deserve better than this, don’t you think?”

It wasn’t just your words that stuck with her—it was the way you said them. Like you meant it. Like you actually believed in something better, even when the world gave you every reason not to.

From then on, Vi found herself noticing you everywhere. The way you stepped up when others hesitated. The way you didn’t back down, even when things got messy. You had this quiet strength about you, the kind that didn’t demand attention but earned it anyway.

She started finding excuses to stick around—helping with repairs, walking the kids home, sparring with you in the courtyard when the opportunity came up. And each time, she found herself drawn to you a little more.

“You’re somethin’ else,” she admitted one night, sitting beside you on a crumbling wall, the city’s broken skyline stretching out before you.

You raised an eyebrow at her, clearly amused. “That so?”

“Yeah.” She rubbed the back of her neck, uncharacteristically shy. “Most people would’ve given up on this place a long time ago, but not you. You stick it out, no matter how hard it gets.”

You shrugged, your gaze softening as you looked at her. “Same could be said about you, Vi.”

That was the moment it hit her—like a punch she didn’t see coming. It wasn’t just admiration anymore. It was something deeper, something she couldn’t ignore.

She fell for you in pieces, each small moment stacking up until it all clicked. It wasn’t about grand gestures or dramatic confessions. It was the way you fit—like you were exactly what she didn’t know she was missing.

And when she finally worked up the courage to tell you, your answer came with that same steady smile that had captivated her from the start.

“Figured it out, huh?” you teased, and she rolled her eyes, though her grin gave her away.

Yeah, she figured it out. And she wasn’t letting you go.

Sevika-

Sevika didn’t believe in love. In the Lanes, it wasn’t something people had the luxury of chasing. Survival came first, and attachments were just liabilities waiting to stab you in the back.

But you were… different.

The first time she noticed you, it wasn’t because you were trying to catch her attention. You were too busy holding your own, stepping into a dispute between two gang members over stolen supplies. She’d leaned back in the corner of the Last Drop, watching the chaos unfold, ready to step in if things got messy.

But then you surprised her.

You didn’t raise your voice or threaten anyone. Instead, you stood tall, calm as you defused the tension with a few sharp words and an unflinching glare. You had this presence, like you weren’t afraid of anyone in the room—not even her.

“Bold move,” Sevika had said when you approached the bar afterward, ordering a drink like you hadn’t just stared down two brutes twice your size.

You glanced at her, your lips quirking into a small smirk. “Someone’s gotta keep things from falling apart.”

That was the moment she started paying attention. You didn’t just survive in the Lanes—you thrived. You didn’t let the weight of the place crush you like it did everyone else. And more than that, you cared. Not in some naive, starry-eyed way, but in a way that made you fight tooth and nail for the people who couldn’t fight for themselves.

It pissed her off at first. The way you carried yourself like you weren’t afraid of the darkness around you. She thought it was reckless, stupid even. But the more she watched, the more she realized it wasn’t recklessness. It was conviction.

You weren’t scared of getting your hands dirty, but you never lost sight of what mattered to you. That’s what got under her skin, what kept her coming back to the same barstool night after night, just to see what you’d do next.

She started finding reasons to stick around. Sometimes it was to share a drink, other times to offer backup when things got rough. You never asked for her help, but you didn’t push her away either, and that intrigued her more than she cared to admit.

One night, after a particularly close call with one of Silco’s rivals, you patched up a cut on her arm, your hands steady as you worked.

“You’re too damn stubborn for your own good,” she muttered, watching you through half-lidded eyes.

You chuckled, your touch gentle as you tied off the bandage. “Takes one to know one.”

It was such a simple moment, but it stayed with her. The way you looked at her—not like she was some feared enforcer, but like she was just… Sevika. It wasn’t something she was used to, and it scared her as much as it thrilled her.

Over time, she realized she was looking for you in every crowd, waiting for the nights you’d sit beside her and trade sharp banter over a drink. She fell for you quietly, begrudgingly, like it snuck up on her before she could stop it.

And when she finally admitted it—to herself, to you—it wasn’t some grand confession. It was a gruff, almost reluctant, “You mean more to me than you should.”

Your response? That same infuriating, endearing smirk. “Took you long enough to figure that out.”

Sevika huffed a laugh, shaking her head, but the truth was, she didn’t mind. Because for once, letting someone in didn’t feel like a weakness. It felt like strength.

Silco -

Silco had always been a man of control, ambition, and sharp edges. In the underbelly of Zaun, survival demanded nothing less. Trust was currency, and affection? A distraction. He had long since accepted that power was the only thing worth chasing.

But then you appeared.

You weren’t loud or showy, not one of those people clawing for his attention. No, you worked quietly, efficiently, in the background of the chaos he ruled. You were just another piece in his intricate machine at first—just another person serving a purpose.

What caught his attention first was your unyielding patience. Where others in the Lanes were frantic, desperate to prove their worth, you moved with a calm certainty, like you weren’t afraid of the storm around you. You fixed what was broken—tools, machines, even people—without asking for anything in return.

One night, you’d been tending to one of his injured men after a skirmish, your hands steady as you stitched him up in the dim light of the hideout. Silco watched from the shadows, curious. The man hissed in pain, and you responded with a soft laugh.

“Hold still, or I’ll sew you up crooked,” you teased, your tone warm but firm.

It wasn’t the words that struck him—it was the way you carried yourself. There was no fear in your voice, no need to prove yourself to anyone. You didn’t care about earning his favor or gaining power. You just… were.

For someone like Silco, who thrived on manipulation and control, it was unnerving. People were supposed to want something from him. But you? You treated him like a man, not a king.

It wasn’t long before he started seeking you out. At first, it was subtle. A lingering glance as he passed through the room, a quiet question about your work. You always answered him honestly, without flinching under his piercing gaze, and it left him unsettled in a way he couldn’t quite name.

One evening, after a particularly brutal day, he found you sitting by the docks, staring out at the toxic waters of Zaun. The tension in his shoulders eased slightly at the sight of you, though he didn’t understand why.

“You should be careful out here,” he said, his voice low as he stepped closer.

You glanced over your shoulder, smiling faintly. “And miss the chance to breathe? I think I’ll take my chances.”

It was such a simple thing, but it stayed with him. In a world that demanded constant vigilance, you allowed yourself to simply exist. It was a quiet defiance, one that intrigued him more than he cared to admit.

Over time, you became a constant presence in his life, slipping through the cracks of his carefully constructed walls. It wasn’t grand gestures or impassioned declarations that made him fall for you. It was the quiet moments—the way you never cowered under his gaze, the way you challenged him without hostility, the way you saw him for more than his scars.

One night, as the two of you shared a rare moment of silence in his office, he finally allowed himself to admit what he’d been feeling.

“You’re dangerous,” he said, his voice soft, almost amused.

You raised an eyebrow, leaning back in your chair. “Dangerous? To you?”

He smirked, though there was no malice in it. “You’ve managed to do what no one else has.”

“And what’s that?”

“You’ve made me want something I didn’t think I needed.”

Your smile widened, warm and unguarded, and for once, Silco didn’t feel the need to look away.

In you, he found something unexpected: a quiet kind of strength, the kind that didn’t demand attention but commanded respect. And for a man who had spent his life fighting for control, letting himself fall for you felt like the ultimate rebellion.

Vander -

Vander wasn’t a man who fell in love easily. His life had been shaped by too much loss, too much responsibility. The people of the Lanes leaned on him, and he carried their weight with quiet strength. Love, to him, felt like a luxury he couldn’t afford.

But then, there was you.

It wasn’t some grand moment that captured his attention—it was the small, steady things. The way you moved through the chaos of the Last Drop, keeping the peace in your own quiet way. The way you never demanded his time but somehow always knew when he needed someone to sit beside him in silence.

What struck him first was your kindness—not the soft, fragile kind, but the sort that had edges. You didn’t let people walk over you, but you never hesitated to offer a hand to someone in need. In a place like Zaun, where survival often demanded selfishness, you were a rarity.

He noticed it one night when a brawl broke out in the bar. Two rowdy patrons had nearly overturned a table, and before Vander could step in, you were already there. You didn’t raise your voice or throw a punch. Instead, you placed a firm hand on one of their shoulders, your calm, measured tone cutting through the tension.

“Save it for the street, boys. We don’t spill blood where we share drinks.”

To his surprise, they listened. Vander couldn’t help but chuckle as they slunk off, muttering apologies.

“Got a way with people,” he said later, handing you a drink as thanks.

You shrugged, offering a small smile. “Just trying to keep things from falling apart.”

Those words stayed with him. It was how you carried yourself—like you were always holding the pieces together, not because you had to, but because you chose to.

Over time, he started finding excuses to be near you. A quick conversation here, a shared drink there. You had a way of making him feel… lighter. Like he could let go of the weight he carried, even if just for a moment.

It wasn’t until one quiet evening, after the bar had emptied, that he realized how deeply you’d settled into his heart. You were sitting on one of the tables, cleaning up a spill, humming a tune under your breath. The soft glow of the lanterns lit up your face, and for a moment, Vander just… watched.

“You’re staring,” you said, not looking up.

He chuckled, rubbing the back of his neck. “Caught me.”

You glanced at him then, your smile warm and teasing. “What’s on your mind, big guy?”

He hesitated, uncharacteristically unsure. But then, he decided to just say it—Vander was never one for dancing around the truth.

“You. The way you care about this place. The people. Me.” He exhaled, leaning against the bar. “Never thought I’d find someone like you in all this.”

Your eyes softened, and you set down the rag in your hands, crossing the room to stand in front of him. “You’re not so bad yourself,” you teased gently. “Took you long enough to notice me.”

He laughed then, a deep, rumbling sound that made your chest warm. “Oh, I noticed. Took me a bit longer to admit it.”

And when you reached up, resting a hand against his face, he leaned into your touch, his eyes closing for just a moment. In you, he found something he hadn’t realized he needed—a steady flame in the chaos of the Lanes.

Ekko -

Ekko didn’t believe in distractions. The Firelights needed him, the Lanes needed him. His days were spent fixing the mess left behind by Piltover’s greed and Silco’s reign. He had no time for anything else—least of all love.

But you? You didn’t give him much of a choice.

It wasn’t a single moment that caught his attention. It was a collection of them, like the pieces of a clock coming together. He first noticed the way you moved—quick and deliberate, like you belonged to the rhythm of the chaos around you. No hesitation, no wasted motion. Whether you were patching up one of the Firelights after a mission or organizing supplies in the hideout, you carried yourself with a quiet confidence that made it impossible for him not to watch.

What hooked him, though, was your laughter. The first time he heard it, he froze. It had been after a particularly rough raid. Everyone was tense, the weight of the day pressing down on their shoulders. And then you cracked some joke—stupid, honestly, but something about the way you delivered it had everyone laughing, including Ekko.

That was when he realized it: you didn’t just survive the Lanes. You thrived in them. You brought light into a place where most people only saw shadows.

It started small—an extra second spent talking to you, a lingering glance when he thought you weren’t looking. He’d catch himself gravitating toward you without even meaning to, drawn to the way you lit up a room with just your presence.

But it wasn’t until one night, long after the others had gone to sleep, that he truly understood how deep you’d gotten under his skin. You were sitting by the glow of a makeshift lantern, tinkering with some piece of tech you’d salvaged. The light cast shadows across your face, highlighting the curve of your cheek, the focus in your eyes.

“Burning the midnight oil?” he asked, leaning against the doorway.

You glanced up, a small smile tugging at your lips. “Someone’s gotta keep this place running.”

He stepped closer, hands shoved into his pockets. “You do too much, you know that?”

“Says the guy who can barely take a break,” you shot back, raising an eyebrow.

He huffed out a laugh, shaking his head. “Fair point.” For a moment, he just stood there, watching you work. The quiet stretched between you, comfortable and warm.

“Why do you do it?” he asked suddenly.

You paused, looking up at him with a tilt of your head. “Do what?”

“Care so much. About all this.” He gestured vaguely, as if to encompass the entire hideout, the Firelights, the Lanes.

Your gaze softened, and you set the piece of tech aside. “Because someone has to. And because… I believe in you, Ekko.”

The sincerity in your voice hit him like a punch to the gut. You believed in him. In a world that seemed determined to tear him down, you stood beside him, unwavering.

“I don’t deserve you,” he murmured, his voice barely above a whisper.

You smiled, reaching out to take his hand. “Guess you’re stuck with me anyway.”

That was the moment Ekko fell. Completely, irreversibly.

Jayce -

Jayce had always been drawn to brilliance. Invention, ambition, ingenuity—they were the cornerstones of what he admired in others. And yet, none of it had ever prepared him for you.

The first time he saw you, it wasn’t in a polished Piltover workshop or a grand council meeting. It was in a small, crowded market on the edge of the Undercity, where the scent of oil and metal clung to the air. You stood at a stall, bartering for scraps and materials like your life depended on it—because, as he’d later learn, it did.

What caught his attention wasn’t just your resourcefulness or the sharp wit you wielded against the vendor. It was the way your eyes lit up when you held a seemingly useless part in your hands, already envisioning the endless possibilities it could unlock.

He didn’t even mean to approach you. His curiosity had a mind of its own. “What are you going to do with that?”

You turned, a little startled, but you didn’t back down from his inquisitive gaze. Instead, you held up the twisted hunk of metal like it was a crown jewel. “Turn it into something brilliant. You’ll just have to wait and see.”

It wasn’t arrogance—it was certainty. And Jayce, who had spent his life chasing impossible ideas, saw a kindred spirit in you.

From that moment, you became an enigma he couldn’t resist unraveling. Every conversation revealed new layers to your ingenuity, your resilience, your unshakable belief in making the impossible possible. And the more time he spent with you, the more he realized it wasn’t just your mind that captivated him—it was your heart.

You were unafraid to challenge him, to push him, to remind him that the world wasn’t just equations and theories but people and dreams. Your passion reignited something in him he hadn’t realized he’d lost: a love for the why, not just the how.

One evening, as the two of you sat side by side, tinkering with a device in his lab, he found himself watching you instead of the work. The way your hair caught the light, the quiet determination in your expression, the soft smile when something finally clicked into place.

“You’re staring,” you teased without looking up.

He chuckled, rubbing the back of his neck. “I just—how do you make everything seem so effortless?”

You grinned, glancing at him with that spark he’d come to love. “It’s not effortless. I just don’t let the hard parts stop me.”

In that moment, he knew he was a goner.

Jayce Talis, the golden boy of Piltover, had fallen in love with you—not because of what you could build, but because of what you built in him: a renewed faith in the beauty of dreaming big, of chasing the spark no matter where it led.

And it apparently led to you.

Viktor-

Viktor didn’t notice you at first, not in the way others might have. He was too focused on his work, his mind consumed by blueprints and equations. But you… you were patient, always there in the background, asking questions no one else dared to ask, seeing things no one else cared to notice.

It was one of those late nights in the lab when you caught his attention. He was hunched over a schematic, frustration etched into every line of his face. You, seated quietly at the far end of the room, had been watching him—though you’d never admit it aloud.

“Did you eat today?” your voice broke through the silence.

Viktor didn’t even look up. “I’m fine,” he replied, a rote answer that wasn’t convincing in the slightest.

You set down your work and crossed the room, standing just out of his peripheral vision. “Fine isn’t food, Viktor.”

When he finally looked at you, there was something in your eyes that made him pause. It wasn’t pity or condescension—two things he’d grown accustomed to. It was understanding, genuine and unyielding, as if you knew exactly what it felt like to lose yourself in something bigger.

That was the first moment he realized you were different.

It wasn’t the last.

You had a way of grounding him, of pulling him out of his own head without judgment. Your presence was quiet but powerful, a steady force that didn’t demand his attention but earned it nonetheless.

What truly captured him, though, was your mind. You didn’t just accept the world as it was; you questioned it, challenged it, sought to understand it. You weren’t afraid to debate him, to push back when you thought he was wrong, and yet you did so with a respect that made him listen.

He found himself looking forward to your late-night conversations, the way you’d linger in the lab long after everyone else had gone home. You’d ask about his work—not just the mechanics but the why behind it, the hopes and fears he buried beneath his relentless drive.

One evening, as you sketched out a rough design on a scrap of paper, Viktor caught himself smiling. Not at the drawing, though it was clever, but at you. The way you bit your lip in concentration, the furrow of your brow, the quiet hum of satisfaction when you got something just right.

“You are remarkable,” he said softly, almost to himself.

You glanced up, surprised. “What?”

His cheeks flushed, and he looked away, fiddling with a wrench. “Nothing. Just… your ideas. They’re… innovative.”

But it wasn’t just your ideas. It was you—the way you saw the world, the way you saw him. Not as a man constrained by limitations but as someone capable of more.

You believed in him, not just in his work, and that was something Viktor hadn’t realized he craved until you offered it so freely.

And as the days turned into weeks, then months, he realized something else: He believed in you, too.

It wasn’t some grand epiphany or dramatic moment. It was in the quiet, shared glances, the lingering touches when you handed him a tool, the way his chest felt lighter when you were near. Somewhere in the midst of late nights and whispered dreams, Viktor had fallen in love.

Not just with your mind or your presence, but with the way you made him feel—seen, understood, whole.

And for a man who’d always fought against the odds, loving you felt like the greatest invention of all.

[slu7formen]

MDNI. luke castellan x fem!reader (halloween) 👻

a special story for those who intensely asked for a part two

warnings: kissing, cursing, just a very intense luke, m4sturbation (f and m), p in v. (also, luke’s ten times hotter with that skeleton make-up)

The usually cold October night felt fuzzy and heavily hot that night, filled with chatter and nonstop dancing from fairies all the way to those dressed as pineapples. The big party was packed and crowded, the drinks flowing, and the music blasting; y´all had to take advantage of Chiron´s and Mr. D´s permission. You sat on a long table, with your sisters and friends, just chilling and enjoying the good time.

It was good.

It was fun.

And Luke was nowhere to be seen.

You didn´t think much about it though, and neither did you expect him to follow you all night like a dog after what had happened in the cabin, whatever that was. Maybe he was just being a jerk, trying to mess with you and play around with you. After all, Luke was always a tease, a playful one. But he did give you a good scare, it was Halloween after all.

Soon your second drink started to hit you, slowly, but the feeling surely was there, embracing your friends into the same bubble as you. As the feeling rushed through your veins, you suddenly found the table a pretty boring place to be at, and soon enough, you and your sisters found yourselves on the improvised dancefloor.

Dancing was the perfect way to let loose, especially after a long, exhausting day of helping the campers. You deserved it, you thought. This fun, this night, a night-to-forget of all those monsters, Gods, missions, the camp life that kept you so exhausted every day. Everyone at camp needed that break, well deserved one. Just a night to behave for what you really were; people. Some of your sisters already disappeared into the darkness with some pirate, or wrestle fighter, or skeleton, leaving their drinks behind and a secret wink to your direction, or a "it won´t be long" comment for you to not worry too much, and honestly? Good for them, in fact, fucking great for them.

In fact, you were going to have your fun too.

You danced and moved around to the rhythm, the loud music blasting in your ears. Your head was slightly spinning, a pleasant feeling more than an unsettling one, and your body moved smoothly along with the music, letting it guide you, letting it move you, letting it control you and the sway of your waist, the holding of your hand to your friend´s, the laughing and singing. You even felt like you would be able to dance all night, nonstop, and you´d still want more fun.

Until you felt it. Again.

That cold, freezing feeling. The feeling of someone staring.

You knew exactly who it was.

He had found you, like he said he would. No-, he didn´t say that, did he?

"I´ll make sure you find me"

Well-, similar.

It was a little weird though, you just knew it was him, without even looking. You were not going to fall for his little mouse-trap game. You wouldn´t look for him, you wouldn´t find him. Did he want some fun? Bring it then.

But you imagined him.

Wearing his entire black outfit, the leather jacket hanging heavily on his shoulders, and his face decorated with that skeleton make-up you worked so hard on. A drink in hand, surrounded by other campers, but you knew, he was only staring at you.

You kept dancing, not a single glimpse, not a single look to his direction. You wouldn´t give him the satisfaction, no, you would be the one giving him a lesson. And maybe he didn´t deserve it. But oh, poor you, didn´t you know he´s been looking at you the whole night and you didn´t realize until now?

The sweat was sticking to your skin, and you´d be fine with that if the feeling of your own hair sticking to your chest didn´t gross you out. "I´m sweating like a pig" a friend told you, basically screaming into your eardrum, "Come get water with me?"

"Okay!" you reply, fixing your hair, moving it out of your sticky skin, following the fairy through the dark woods to try and go towards the drink table.

And that was just the perfect moment to attack.

"Hey" Luke said.

You turned around quicker than you´d like yourself to admit.

"Hi" you say, stopping in your tracks. "Found you, I guess"

He was looking good, too good. His jacket was opened, the teasing flesh of his neck showing just underneath that boring black shirt. His make-up was still in perfect shape, and his face didn´t look as scary as it did before, rather, he looked handsome, even with the painted features.

"Guess so" he smiles, and there´s a slight tilt to his head, as if he was sizing you up. "So-, how that night going for you?" he asked.

"Good so far" you replied, getting rid of the hood of your cape, letting yourself breathe a little bit more. "Sweaty" you stated, "You?"

"Sweaty" he repeated, a soft grin on his face. You rolled your eyes. "Nothing more?" he inquires.

You press your lips together, crossing your arms over your chest, "What do you mean?" you quickly ask.

"No one´s tried their luck with you yet?" he asked before taking a sip of his beer. He tilted his head to the side while doing so, the moonlight doing nothing but wonders to illuminate his jawline perfectly, the shadow of it intensifying over your Adam´s apple, which bobbed up and down slowly, the way his tongue licked his bottom lip quickly.

You scoffed. "No. Not really"

"Come on..." he jogged, "I don´t believe you"

Gosh, he was doing it again.

"Why?" you asked

He shrugged his shoulders casually, "You´re not something that´s easy to miss" he said, and you hated the way the compliment made you feel, and how silent it made you, unable to form words.  And it was like he knew exactly what he was doing, and what he was making you feel. He knew exactly what to say, and he knew it was driving you insane, and Luke was enjoying the hell out of it.

"Were you watching me?" is all you can ask.

He shrugged his shoulders. "Maybe", is all he stated.

You laughed, tilting your head, "What, are you some creep now?"

Luke raised an eyebrow, "Don't get me wrong, I love watching you dance" he said, his tone so smooth and warm, "But I was hoping for something else" he shrugged his shoulders playfully, as if he was just talking about the weather with that casualness.

You raised and eyebrow, "So you were watching?" you asked, and you damn right knew he was.

Luke raised the bottle again, just about to press it to his lips as he said, "Like I said, you´re kind of impossible to miss"

He had a way with words, and they somehow always managed to make your brain malfunction, like you were suddenly a dumb girl from freshman year, the way they came out of his mouth with that husky, rough voice. Like they were sweet and velvety, and he had a way of saying them, a way of pronouncing them.

"Are you done playing around?" is all you manage to ask. You wanted to do something, say something, move somewhere. It was like your legs had become roots of trees, and you were just waiting for him, for him to do something. For him to say anything, really. And you didn´t want to think, or act, or speak. You just wanted him.

Luke hummed, and the smile that tugged at his lips was almost predatory. Like he was waiting for that. For you to ask him, and beg him, and for him to give in, to say yes. In silence, he walked towards a nearby tree taking the last sip of his beer, setting the bottle on the floor shortly after. He leaned back against it, the back of his head pressing against the hard wood.

"Come here" he asked, and it all became so quiet. The loud party was easy to step away from, even when the music and continuous chatter was buzzing inside your ears.

Arms still crossed, you walked to where he was, just a few feet away.

"What are you doing?" you asked, looking straight into his eyes. They were the same ones that pierced through you hours ago. The same ones that stared at you so deeply, and the same ones that made your knees weak. Luke lifted a hand, forcing its way through your crossed arms to hold one of your hands, and he gave it a quick, soft pull, a gesture that would be too obvious, and easy to ignore. But you didn´t. Because his palm was warm, and his fingers wrapped around your wrist tightly, but carefully.

"I just want you close"

You scoffed, unable to hold back a laugh. If you really thought about it, he sounded so, so dumb.

"That was the cheesiest shit I have ever heard"

He didn´t flinch, his face was still as serious as before. And he didn't take his eyes off of you, his fingers gently rubbing the soft skin of your wrist, a gesture that was almost hypnotic.

"I wasn´t done"

You tilted your head to the side, waiting for him to continue. He was attempting to pull you by the hand again, yet he never did. It felt as if you were about to jump off a cliff with the risk of someone pushing you. You took another step closer yourself, and then another, until you were standing just in front of him, your chests barely touching.

"Go on then" you encouraged, feeling your own cockiness take a hold on you, "What is it that you want, hm?". If it wasn´t for your previous fruity drinks, you weren´t sure you would be this bold.

"I said close" he demanded. But your chests were at the verge of pressing together.

"I am close"

That´s when he really pulled you. Luke forced his free hand around your waist, and he tugged, hard. The sudden force had you stumbling towards him, your chest colliding with his and his nose nearly pressed against yours, lips parted as you gasped, your free hand taking a hold on his shoulder so you wouldn´t fall all over him.

"This close" he whispered, his face dangerously close to yours. He was looking at your lips, and then at your eyes, and back to your lips. And you knew, oh, you knew exactly what he wanted, and you were more than willing to let him have it.

He tilted his head slightly to the side, and you could almost taste him. Luke let his lips brush against yours, and the soft touch was enough to drive you crazy. He was testing the waters, testing the limits, and you could tell by the way his lips moved against yours.

But it felt like a hundred tortures.

"Just kiss me already" you muttered against him. Luke didn´t need any more words to finally, fucking finally, press his lips against yours. And when he did, he kissed you hard, and with a hunger that left you breathless. He kissed you like his life depended on it.

He loved the feeling of when you let him press his tongue softly, exploring your mouth. And the way his teeth grazed over your bottom lip, and the way his hand was grabbing the fabric of your costume, and the way he held onto your neck, and the way his other hand grabbed your waist and pulled your hips against his, the feeling of his fingers digging into your soft flesh, the way he groaned softly into the kiss, the way his chest was pressed against yours and his breath was hot and heavy.

And he wanted more.

His kiss was hungry, and demanding, and all consuming, like he was trying to take every single ounce of air from your lungs. His hand moved up, his fingers tangling into your hair, holding onto the back of your neck, his nails grazing the skin, and pulling slightly, forcing you to arch your neck. He didn´t waste any time, and his tongue was instantly on yours again.

He pressed a couple of quick kisses over your jaw, his teeth grazing the skin, biting softly. His lips trailed down, pressing wet kisses all the way down to your neck, sucking on the soft skin. His fingers tightened, tugging slightly.

"Let´s go somewhere else, yeah?" he whispered, low and vibrant.

You didn´t have the chance to answer.

It was a quick turn, and the next thing you know is that Luke is walking ahead, his hand holding onto yours and a quick, firm pull, making you follow him. And soon enough, you find yourselves inside your cabin. And it was as if a switch had turned inside him. He pressed you against the door as soon as it was closed, his lips attacking yours. He kissed you hungrily, his hands gripping the back of your thighs, lifting you and pressing you further against the door.

He was all over you. It didn´t take him long to take a firmer grip of your legs as he walked towards the bed, dropping you down softly. His hands were quick to grab the edge of his jacket, removing it with ease, throwing it across the room, his black t-shirt following right after. You were mesmerized, watching the way his muscles flexed with each movement, the way his eyes remained focused on you still.

You got rid of your cape as he leaned down over you, "Stop" he warned you. He looked down, his hands roaming over your red skirt. His fingers took a hold of it softly, "I want this on" he stated. You could only nod as he leaned down, pressing another quick kiss against your lips. "But I want this off" he whispered, his hands moving up, reaching for the top of the corset. You were quick to remove it, Luke helping you quickly, letting the  material fall down onto the mattress, leaving you in the button up shirt you had underneath.

Luke popped a knee onto the bed, dangerously close to your core. "Fuck-" he muttered. He leaned down, a hand quickly unbuttoning your clothes. "How am I supposed to not fuck you like this?" he mumbled, and you felt the warmth of his hands, the soft touch, his calloused fingertips, his nails scraping the skin. "Looking this pretty, waiting for me"

You could feel the heat creeping up, and you knew he could see it. Your chest was rising and falling with every breath, your heart pounding in your chest. Luke was looking at you, his gaze intense and filled with desire.

His knee finally pressed against you, the contact enough to draw a small gasp from you, his thigh now firmly between yours, your skirt pushed up slightly. You felt his hands run over the smooth material of your skirt, and then under it, his fingers squeezing, pulling, kneading at your legs. His hand ran up the length of your inner thigh, "Move" he demanded then.

You obliged. You didn´t dare to question him, his knee remained pressed firmly against you. You felt the delicious pressure against your clit as your hips slowly grinned against his thigh.

Luke watched, his lips parting. "That's it" he praised you. Your eyes fell shut, your head falling back, a low groan whimper your lips. You felt his hand trail up your lower back, encouraging your movements against him, "Keep going baby, show me how good you feel" he breathed, and you couldn´t help but feel the rush of heat between your legs. He leaned in, his lips pressing wet, open-mouthed kisses over the base of your throat. Your hips jerked against him, his hand gripping your skin tighter.

"I want to touch you" he muttered, "Let me touch you" his hand moved up, fingers caressing the flesh of your stomach, all the way up to your cleavage. He was bold enough to cup one of your covered breast for a second, squeezing it firmly, and then trailing his hand down, his palm pressed flat against your lower abdomen, "Come on-," he urged, "Let me touch you, let me get you off"

Luke was desperate, and you were a moaning mess, grinding against his thigh. You were desperate too, and the friction of his clothes against you wasn´t enough, and he was right there. "Do it. Do what you want" you sight out, grabbing his face to smash your lips together again. And that was enough.

Luke moved, his hands working their way down your skirt. His fingers worked quickly, his finger hooked on the waistband of the underwear, pulling them down slowly, the fabric scratching your thighs. His mouth was back on your neck, his teeth grazing the skin as he sucked and bit the soft skin, and then his tongue soothing the pain. You shivered, goosebumps rising over your skin. "You said you didn´t bite" you teased.

"Shut up" he grunted.

His fingers slid in between your thighs, teasingly, before moving further down, the pads of his fingers rubbing your folds. A sigh escaped you, and you heard his smile against your skin, his fingers slipping between the wet, slick skin.

Your body shook at the sudden sensation, his fingers spreading you apart. Luke slid his index finger inside you slowly. He pressed his lips against your throat, a deep chuckle leaving his lips, "I´m sure you don´t mind if I bite" he muttered, his fingers curling inside of you. "And you won´t mind if I fuck you too, right?" he asked. Your heart skipped a beat. You couldn´t form a proper answer. "I won't ask twice"

You couldn´t help the way you clenched around his fingers, and the sound that escaped you was something that was not going to be forgotten. "N-no" you whimpered.

"No?" he repeated, almost mockingly, a small yet lying pout on his lips. It bothered you as much as it made the rest of your body hot, but you had no time to be mad. Luke picked up his pace, his fingers sliding in and out in a faster motion that got you taking a hold of his wrist.

"Oh-," you whimpered, and you were already feeling so sensitive. He had a way of getting you so worked up, and the teasing was killing you.

"What is it? You don't like it?" he asked, but the smirk on his lips told you everything.

"Y-you know-," you breathed out, struggling to keep your words straight, "Fucking jerk"

"Mhm" he hummed, the pad of his thumb moving up to circle your clit, rubbing it gently, his fingers still moving inside you, "Is that so?" he asked. You could only nod, unable to keep your eyes open, the sensations overwhelming, his voice only making things worse, and the feeling of his fingers sliding in and out was too much.

The burning sensation on your tummy tightened just for a second before he went back to his slow and deliberate pace. You felt him move, and you realized he was positioning himself better, his face now at the level of your stomach. He kissed the skin just above the waistband of the skirt, fingers still working inside you. You took a quick look at him, the paint on his face, smudged around the round edges and his perfect lips not looking so perfectly painted anymore. You were not going to admit it out loud, but the messy look was something that did wonders to you, and you hated the thought of being able to have him like this, with a paint-stained face, and a body that was not the least bit tired of the day.

His mouth guided upwards then, following an invisible line that travelled from your belly button all the way to your lips again, kissing you as his fingers were still sliding in and out, his thumb still working circles over the bundle of nerves. You felt him shift his weight, his hand moving up from your waist, sliding over the back of your head and grabbing a fistful of hair. The sensation made your breath hitch.

Luke broke the kiss, a small grunt leaving his mouth, "You feel so good" he grunted, "So warm, and tight" his fingers curled inside you, again. His hand pulled slightly on your scalp, the tug feeling like electricity shooting through your spine.

He wanted to know if you´ll feel that good when he fucked you.

The thought alone had him throbbing painfully, aching to be inside you. Fuck-, he wanted it now.

"Let me fuck you" he asked, almost begged, "Let me fuck you, sweetheart. I know you want it." he whispered.

Gods, did he love a dirty talk.

You were so lost in pleasure that his words were barely registering, but the way he was touching you, and the way he was speaking to you. His front was almost pressed against you, your fingers taking a grip of the skin of his waist and back, scratching whenever the scissoring of his fingers hit that spot. And you loved the feeling of his hot skin touching with yours. Why not take it a little bit further?

"Go on then" you replied, barely, and a moan followed right after. He could tell it took a lot out of you, the effort to speak, but he could not have been more thankful for your reply. His fingers slid out of you, slowly, instantly missing the feeling of it.

Luke pressed another kiss on your lips before leaning away, "Sit up" he ordered, and you did. He didn´t say anything as he did the exact same thing while he got rid of his pants. His erection was obvious, tightened by the fabric of his boxers, and you could only watch, his cock hard, thick and pulsing.

He didn't even ask as he took a grip of the back of your leg, forcing you to straddle over him. The sudden move was quick, but you could only hold onto his shoulders, the new position making you sit directly on top of his erection, a hiss past his lips, but he liked it. He loved having you like this, and his hand was already reaching for the skirt, moving the fabric out of the way as you took matter into your own hands, pulling down on his underwear to relieve his painfully hard cock.

You held onto his length, the tip already wet, the precum leaking, and he groaned. He pressed his forehead against yours, his breathing labored, eyes closed. You stroked him slowly, your hand tightening around him.

"Shit" he muttered, "Don't stop" he moaned.

You moved your hand up and down, stroking his length, and his hips jerked against your palm, and he could have cum just right there. You twisted slightly around it, the pad of your thumb softly caressing his tip, stealing a filthy moan from the back of his throat. He only wanted this for a short time, or else he would explode on your hand, he knew it.

So he let you have your fun for a moment, before he took a hold of your wrist, stopping you, "You have no idea how close I am" he breathed. "Can I fuck you already?"

And come on, did he even need to ask?

You were quick to reply, "Stop asking and just do it". His arm moved around your waist, pushing his hand under the skirt, moving the fabric out of the way. The lost feeling of his fingers on you was soon replaced by the tip of his cock, teasing the entrance. He moaned. He didn't push in yet, his hand guiding his cock between the folds, rubbing his shaft against the wetness.

"You feel so good already" he moaned, his other hand holding onto the base of his length, giving himself a few pumps before he let his tip slide into you, his hand quickly grabbing a hold of the back of your neck, pulling your head towards him. And he was quick to slide inside.

His lips swallowed the small gasp that left you, the feeling of his cock stretching you being too much to handle in a matter of just a moment. "That's it, that's my girl" he muttered against you.

He began rocking his hips, slow and steady, letting you adjust. "Come on" he encouraged, his arm tightening around you. You began to move, slowly, the sensation almost unbearable, and he moaned, the feeling of him hitting the right spots was all it took. You usually hated this position; the discomfort on your thighs, the burning, how tiring it was, and the fact that the person on top always seemed to not hit the right spot. But with Luke, it was different. It felt different, damn it.

He grunted with a particular roll of your hips, and you moaned, the feeling of him filling you up being enough to make the fire burn hotter, and you clenched around him, causing him to let out a curse. He gripped the skin of your hips, his hips thrusting upwards, his cock sliding further into you, the sound of the two bodies colliding filling the room like a slap. His mouth fell open, his fingers digging into the flesh, holding onto you like his life depended on it, his eyes shut tightly, brows furrowed. And the sound, the lewd and wet sounds coming from the connection between the two bodies, mixed with the moans and the sound of skin, was delicious.

He felt so good, the way his hips bucked against yours, the way he stretched you, filled you, the way he moaned. It was the best fuck of your life, and you hadn't even reached the climax yet.

He placed a hand behind him, onto the mattress, the hand that still held you guiding the dancing of your hips. He began moving his hips, meeting each of your movements, his pace slower than before, but deeper. Your hands reached for his pelvis for your own support, nails scratching the skin.

"Fuck, fuck" he cursed. He let his head fall back, and the sight was mesmerizing, the veins on his neck, the sweat on his forehead, the messy black and white face paint, his mouth falling open and his chest raised and fell. His muscles flexed under the dim light, the moonlight shining over his skin. And his hair was a mess, and the way his Adam's apple bobbed with each swallow. You never thought someone could look that pretty while fucking.

"You´re being so great" he praised, "So good, sweetheart" his hips snapped, hard, and it hit just the right spot, and a gasp left your lips.

"Oh my-," you whimpered, "There, there, please" you begged. And Luke loved a good beg, he would have to remember that.

"Here?" he smirked, his hips rolling upwards again, the same movement, hitting the exact same spot, and a moan left his lips. He knew he found it when your walls tightened around him, and he couldn't help the way his own legs twitched.

Your thighs already burned, the muscles begging for mercy. It was painful, the strain, the effort, the exhaustion. You didn't want to admit it, but you found yourself thinking that you wouldn´t stop for Luke even if it hurt. He just felt too good to let go now.

"Keep going, don't stop"

And the way he fucked, and the way he was so good at it. Luke was a fast learner, and he didn't waste any time in finding the right spot, and he didn't hesitate on keeping his hips thrusting against you. He could tell by the way you moved, and the way you cried, that you were getting closer.

He felt your walls begin to tighten, and the way they did it, the feeling, was something else, and it only took him a few more rolls of his hips, and he could feel the heat begin to coil at the pit of his stomach. But he didn't want to cum just yet.

"Hold it, baby. Hold it for me, yeah?" he grunted. And the way he called you that, the way his voice was laced with a command, it made you weak. You didn't know how long you could last. He had already brought you to the edge once, and he was doing it again. He could feel the pressure building up, his hips stuttering. "We´ve got all night. Shit, I could fuck you all night" his voice was strained, and you knew he was getting closer too.

The more you tried to hold it, the worst everything felt. You needed to let it go in order to feel him let go too. You wanted-, needed Luke to finally snap, to release inside you. "Luke-" you called, and your voice was a whisper, and you didn't know if he heard it. "Please"

And you grabbed his hand, the one holding yout hips. Your poor movements kept on going as both your hands held his, leading it close to your lips. You placed a kiss on the knuckles, the gesture being enough for him to open his eyes and look at you, and not stop even when you darted his thumb to your lips, pressing them on your tongue.

He saw it before he felt it, the way your tongue moved along the pad of his thumb, the saliva sticking as you wrapped your mouth around his digit. Fuck. The sight-, the sight. You. You killed him. It was just the way he wanted you.

His hips stuttered and shook, your own breath getting caught up in your throat and tightening, the warmth pooling. You came undone. The orgasm washing over you like a wave, leaving you trembling and shaking, the feeling of your release was so powerful. And he came not long after. He couldn't help but follow your release, his own cock throbbing, releasing his cum inside you.

You felt like you could pass out, heavy breathing and sweating and all, the cold night air suddenly hitting both of your heated bodies.

You fell forward, your arms wrapping around his shoulders, holding onto him as if you were drowning. Luke wrapped his own arms around your back, pulling you close, his chest rising and falling against yours, his heartbeat fast and erratic, just like yours.

"Gods-" he said, panting, his hands roaming over your back.

"Yeah" you laughed, lifting your head up to look at him, your breath hitting his face when you still managed to catch your breath. Luke chuckled then, a little hum vibrating on his chest. "What?" you asked.

Luke gestured his face with a hand, but his eyes roamed over your face constantly; your eyes, your cheeks, your nose. Even down your neck. "I did a number on you, huh?" he chuckled.

[forwards-beckon-rebound]

jason todd instagram hcs

basics

his account's private

he created it around the same time he first knew about you

yes, he did do it because he realized it's probably weird for him to not have any sort of social media

and then randomly posted 2 things so he looked interesting (the shirtless pic may or may not be intentional and obviously the books to show his intellectual side or whatever)

really really bad with social media and all of the naming stuff (i mean are we surprised)

followers + following

mostly his family, friends, and other vigilantes he's worked with

literally whooped with joy the day wonder woman requested to follow him and he would not shut up about it

only person he's following is you ofc (he has a burner account so he can follow people and make sure his brothers aren't doing stupid stuff but he won't admit it)

highlights

yes he does refer to you as his wife to anybody who will listen (and even if they don't he'll still try to anyways)

it's a lot of photos of you guys on dates, some candids of you, basically whenever he thinks you look pretty (all the time) and you let him post the photo

i don't really see him being particularly sappy with his words so he probably just writes like "with my girl" or "date night" or something simple like that

and then some like classic rock song in the bg

honestly idrk what nunya is, i just thought it'd be funny to use that pic for something

probably him hanging out with his friends or random funny stuff he sees

will beat up a guy and then be like "lol went to check this guy's id and his name is deadass buford"

dog is of course photos of your dog, dog!! you guys share custody of her and you would kill anybody for her

there are some photos of him and dog that you've taken

but a lot of them are of you and dog

he likes to go through his wife and dog highlights when he's away on missions and stuff like that (but also he definitely has folders with way more photos on his phone)

posts

he doesn't post that often

but when he does it's usually of you lmfao

definitely posted the third pic from the bottom up when you guys got together

you took the photos of him for him and convinced him to post his to his instagram for once

the book he's reading is actually one you recommended

you guys have a mini book club between the two of you (you guys just read and annotate books and then trade)

you got him the harley davidson jacket because you figured he should have different jackets when he's going out as red hood and as jason todd or else he's not gonna have a secret identity for very long

he's kind of obsessed with it

accidentally got some sort of theme going on? you think it's so funny because this man didn't even know that instagram themes were a thing

———

dick ver.

[ariiadnes]

╭ ⿻ ･ 0713

ଓ.° ・ simon riley. call of duty. family fic -- simon and reader have a daughter. may as well make this an unofficial series ～(　TロT)σ every day i am victim to the delusions !!

when you first met simon, you quite honestly did not think you'd end up having such a domestic life with him. you've known each other for a long while, been together for less. you've seen each other go through hell and back, worry for each other's safety and return, and here you are now, with a daughter that is exactly like him.

kind of. mostly, you'd say.

personality? absolutely. quiet, reserved-- her, mostly in the sense that she's shy. him, in the sense that he just doesn't like talking to people very much. but quiet all the same, you suppose.

appearances? oh, one hundred percent. brown eyes, brown hair. sharp gaze. you don't know how a two year old has a sharp gaze, but she does.

little quirks? you suppress a sigh just thinking about it. wherever you are, simon is. he's practically your shadow-- so what's your daughter? his shadow. so basically, in summary : anywhere you go? have no fear, you will never be alone. ever.

oh, forgot something in the bedroom? just turn around and you'll face-plant into your husband's chest, and when you recover, you'll see your daughter peek out from behind his leg to see what all the ruckus is. oh, you're going to do laundry? forget the television, make it a group effort instead. grocery shopping? no need to split up to make it faster. he's mapped out the most efficient route around the store to knock out this trip in less than an hour.

yeah. they're weird. but you love them, so it's okay.

you'd like to think that nothing surprises you at this point, until today -- when you're tending to the house, bright and early, only to see a certain half awake toddler and her dad standing in the living room. you pause for a moment, mildly surprised that she's already up. you don't say anything-- just watching, as they haven't noticed you around the corner of the hallway quite yet.

"papa."

"munchkin."

silence. like, a long silence. your brows furrow, and you can't help but tilt your head in confusion and curiosity as you witness the strange phenomenon that is your family. she closes the distance, looking up at him. and in return, he looks down at her.

and they just stare at each other. in even more silence. for a good few minutes. not a single word exchanged. you're just so confused by this interaction that you're about to speak up, but then she raises her arms, and just like that, he picks her up, pressing a gentle kiss to her forehead-- his usual good morning greeting to her, you've come to notice.

you stand there in the hallway, confused as ever, as he walks off to the kitchen to prepare breakfast for her. you have no idea what that was. you blink a few times before shaking your head, joining him in the kitchen to help with the morning prep.

-- so naturally, when night comes, the little one is sleeping, and you're laying in bed next to simon, you can't help but ask:

"what the hell happened this morning?"

he pauses at the sudden question.

"you burned the pancakes, dove."

your eye twitches.

"i did fucking not." you roll your eyes, though you don't put up any resistance as he pulls you closer to him, an arm draped over your waist. "i'm talking about your little stare down today. what was that?"

simon stares blankly at the wall in recollection of the event. a moment or two, then a slow shift in his gaze as he looks at you.

"-- just had a bit of a chat."

"...you both said one word each."

"said it was a bit, didn't i?"

oh, insufferable. weird and insufferable. you give him a deadpan stare, in which he returns full on-- and now you're stuck in a silent staring contest with him. as much as you'd love to try and redeem yourself from the losing streak you've maintained all these years, you understand that one : it is midnight, and you would like to not stay up until three in the morning only to lose, and two : you should be realistic and know that you'll never win.

"stop that." you grumble, hand covering his eyes. "she's gonna pick up on that and start staring into people's souls. it'll freak them out."

he chuckles softly, moves your hand away before lacing his fingers with yours, lips gently trailing down your neck. "not a bad thing. instills fear."

"...i would really like you to not encourage our two year old daughter to instill fear into people, simon riley."

a faint hum of acknowledgement and amusement, then another kiss along your jaw, the corner of your mouth, then your lips. he can't help but notice the feeling of your smile despite your disgruntled words, and he thinks he loves you all the more for it.

"i'll consider it, love."

[hello-nichya-here]

Literally never met a single parent that would make their straight son and straight daughter share a room through not only puberty but their entire lives, even adulthood.

There's a reason why it's common for siblings (usually of the same sex, but not always) to share a room when they're little, but get separate bedrooms as they get older. It's the same reason why parents teach their kids to wipe, shower, and dress up instead of doing it for them forever: to teach them not only independence, but also privacy and what situations are not appropriate between relatives.

You don't make two people, especially teenagers, share a bedroom indefinitely and expect hormones to care about what is or is not socially acceptable. They don't even need to be attracted to each other's gender - why do you think that even convents, super conservative boarding schools, and freaking prison end up having TONS of cases of fully straight people having sex with people of the same gender?

Ashley and Andrew falling asleep on the couch together once or twice because they were watching a movie is normal. Ashley and Andrew sleeping on the same bedroom for a week during a vacation is normal. Ashley and Andrew sharing not only the bedroom but sometimes the BED (despite that not being in any way necessary), and potentially seeing each other dressing up/undressing is NOT normal sibling behavior.

This is not "Well, they live together, they'll inevitably see each other in some compromising position eventually", this is "Remove any boundary until they see nothing except the compromising positions."

The difference is night and day, much like them being home alone for a night or even a full week because the parents went out is VERY different from them being locked inside their home with basically no way of interacting with anyone but each other for MONTHS, while also forming a stronger bond due to shared trauma and not knowing who else to trust.

Being practically forced to be attracted to each other is only "normal sibling behavior" if the siblings in question are Targaryens trying to keep the bloodline pure. To everybody else, that's not just weird, it's AT BEST a serious mistake from neglectful parents. On Renee's case it's yet another form of abuse towards her children that happened to backfire.

As much as I love the fact the incest vibe between Ashley and Andrew was so undeniable that even their mom noticed it and just could not believe that they WEREN'T screwing already, the way she acts like wanting to fuck her is the ONLY reason Andrew could ever have to side with her and sacrifice their parents to the demon pisses me off the more I think about it.

Renee literally made Andrew parent Ashley, went out of her way to make it so Andrew was the person she'd rely on for any kind of emotional support, had them share a bedroom their whole lives, then literally sold them and did not give a fuck that they would starve and die in a cruel way, having no one but each other to turn to during that torture because they could not leave the apartment.

Yet she's surprised that Andrew not only resents her, but also feels a sense of obligation to Ashley and actually cares about her in his own fucked up way - aka she failed to do as a parent because she simply could not be bothered.

She simply doesn't understand the basic concept that Ashley could have any vallue as a person, even for someone that was forced to stand by her side his entire life. She doesn't accept that Andrew could ever resent HER for everything he had to endure instead of just blaming Ashley and no one else. She doesn't get that they are trauma-bonded because she doesn't believe she traumatized the fuck out of both of them.

Also the NERVE and complete lack of self-awareness this woman has for calling Andrew disgusting for the incest, even though it was all caused by her own screw ups as a parent. Again, they slept in the same bedroom, their whole lives - childhood, adolescence and first years of adulthood. Then she had them be locked up in the apartment together. Alone. Even though she was already getting weird vibes from them for a while.

She's practically forcing them to cross that line, then gets mad when she thinks they actually did it.

[nqueso-emergency]

Hey hi hello! The way the cast said goodbye to Callum after last night’s episode really showed the strike difference to how they treated Lou when he left. This plus the way the breakup felt so disconnected from the Bucktommy storyline makes me think that something happened behind the scenes. I don’t know if OS or/and the rest of the cast had an issue with Lou and that’s why he left so suddenly or was it the awful hate that Lou got. But their silence feels almost weird. Oliver never posted a bts photo of him. He barely mentioned Tommy (or God forbid Lou in interviews) Kenny and Ryan who previously have said nice things about Lou were also silent. I know you don’t know, but do you think the BT break up was a last min change due to bts drama. There’s also discourse on twitter about OS not liking to share the fame from Bucktommy with Lou. I honestly don’t know what to think - it all feels just plain weird. And also do you think that if there is btw drama the negative way that the GA reacted to the breakup can possibly bring back Tommy/Lou? Thanks! 🙏🏻

You asked a ton of questions but I'm only saying one thing.

If Lizzie’s interview didn't exist none of this would be an issue. No one would be comparing Callum leaving to Lou leaving. Because, without her interview, there's nothing else to suggest Lou is gone permanently.

Which means that the GA is banking on the idea that Buck and Tommy will find their way to one another again.

And I know people hate how they're referring to Tommy as a drug or addiction to Buck but we need to remember that this show is written for the middle-aged white woman who loves Angela Bassett and/or Peter Krause. So, by them using words like, "craving," "relapse," "jonesing".... they're telling the audience that Buck is struggling way more than they're even showing on screen and that even if he dates someone else, Buck will always be a recovering addict of one Tommy Kinard.

[sh1-n0bu]

bello, not sure if your taking requests so this will be my little thirst😼

was thinking about the elf bf and how intimacy is so foreign to him! How good your touches feel on his heated skin but what was this odd feeling? The coil in his tummy getting tighter with each grind of his hips on your thigh. The feeling felt so weird.. it feels good? is this good? he doesn’t want to disappoint you, or worse, scare you away! so he stops himself, letting his hips slow their grind for a moment. Inadvertently edging himself!

id like to imagine if he touched himself he would stop before cumming as well, he doesn’t know what it is! it feels so odd, makes him feel hot all over!

After he slows his grinds, you would be a bit confused…, does he not want to cum? or does he want to wait til your inside him? it takes a bit before you even think that maybe he hasn’t gotten that far before, the idea that you get to corrupt him making your face heat. Goodness he would be so pretty, teary eyes begging for you to slow down. Hips bruised from how rough you had grabbed him!

and to think, when he finally cums? its so overwhelming. heat spreading through his body, mind numbing as his legs twitch slightly? his pretty cock leaking onto his stomach? GOOD LORD I NEED IT💥💥💥

ty for listening nobu🫶🏼 we love you pls dont die

(low key my first ask, hope you enjoyed as i dont write much)

bellooooo, me is not taking requests for now but im still open for brainrots/thirsts!!!!

good lawdddd y’all gotta stop corrupting me more, my horny level can’t keep up guys. so i haven’t read the history of middle earth and all abt the biologies and cultures of the races tolkien created but i have come across multiple posts or points of people pointing out that sex and intimacy is an extremely important and raw thing. like how a constant friction creates fire over time and how that fire spreads into a wildfire that consumes everything, that’s how it is to elves and their culture. courting is important and it could go for a very long time until they decide to officially tie the knot. yet even after getting married, the consummation won’t happen in a while, first the couple must at least intertwine their fëa (soul) and so, the consummation act is more intense and powerful. its a very draining thing, when elves fuck, they fuck. long and hard, probably all night and into the next morning and even evening perhaps. they’re immortals, they have a monster amount of stamina

so with this info in mind, u gotta realize that elves do have knowledge of sex, how it usually feels etc and how near sacred it is to their kin. love is a fragile thing that will cross their eternal life only once and when they love, boy do they love. yet something tells me that despite having knowledge of sex, masturbation and other fleshly pleasures, they don’t participate in it much. its like they barely have anything that gets them pent up or sexually frustrated until they fall in love. and if it is a mortal? oh boy, they are confused and yearning. it’s like an instant neuron activation for them

the poor elf would barely know what to do with these thoughts and imaginations of you and him in such a compromising position. images of you guiding him through your first times together, holding hands, whispering sweet nothings into his sensitive, pointy ear while he shrivels with embarrassing noises on your lap. oh how those calloused, hardened hands would feel when tightly fisting at his cock, draining him dry and milking every last drop of his cum. how those long, thick fingers would feel when thrusting inside him, scissoring him open and making him squeal. good god, don’t even get him started on the dirty images he thinks of you when he looks at those arms and thighs of yours, he’s imagining himself riding that muscle until he soils his pants or how your hands would push his head down to fully swallow your cock into his throat

would it taste as how it is described in the eroticas? would your precum be salty as your thick cock head pushes past his soft lips with your soothing voice instructing him to “open wide, puppy”? would you be so mean as to fist at his gorgeous locks and fuck into his mouth, use him to your own pleasure? he would be a good puppy for that, taking whatever you had to give him with red cheeks and hands obediently held on his lap. like a good puppy, he would open his mouth, tongue out like an eager little dog waiting for the taste of his favorite snack as you stroke your dick, a low moan falling as he finally taste your load shoot into his awaiting open jaws

and when his dirty thoughts are finally granted and turned into reality? he’s a goner. scrambling on his feet, tripping over his words, mind blanking as he feels your hands grope his ass over the linen of his pants. feeling like a young ellon rather than the full grown elf he is when your hands fiddle with the buckle of your belt, gulping down the saliva in his mouth as he sees your strap spring out of your undergarment

with a shaky hand, he would grip your strap, meagerly stroking his hands up and down with a stuttered “i-is this okay…?” oh dear stars, how badly you wanted to just fuck him dumb right then and there, seeing the cute pouting lips, big eyes staring at you for an approval as he weakly asks for your preference. how fast he is to crumble when he feels your rough hand wrap around both your and his own dicks, stroking them together with a slow pace, occasionally spitting on them. his mind was already blanking, and he was sure that he had already came into your hand the moment you touched him

“w-wait a—annh!! mmh uhnng♡︎ h-hold owwnn♡︎ i ju-ust c-came! i came alreanngh already...♡︎!!” the poor elf weakly cried out, falling back into the sea of soft pillows as his hands shook by his chest, where he held them close to himself. he was sure you could hear the rapid beating of his heart, embarrassed by the noises he kept letting out despite biting down on his lips to shut himself up. poor sweetheart, doesn’t even know that the thing dripping down onto his stomach is his pre-ejaculation and not his cum! “shh shh… it’s alright, darling. i’ll be sure to teach you all about the fleshly pleasures tonight♡︎” and you were going to absolutely ruin him

sweet virgin elf who crumples into a heap of mess after experiencing his first cum. moaning and even squealing as his hands flailed around, unable to choose whether to hold onto your arms or to claw at the blanket beneath himself as you continue to keep going despite his whines of having already came. you were so mean, quickening your pace and even squeezing your dicks together, he was so sure that he blacked out when you first did that or swiped a thumb over his oozing tip. arms covering his face to hide the flush of his cheeks and the drooped ears, crying out to you that he was going to die. so dramatic

“sh-stooohpp..! stop stopstopstop—stop it♡︎♡︎! i came!! i nyaagh ungh guhc—came! i alreaawdyy camee…♥︎!” the elf cried out, already slurring his words together as his hips grind back and forth on the bed until your free hand comes up to keep it down in place with a bruising grip. your sweet boyfriend could only cry out, a broken whine falling as he shook his head, looking down at your hand that held down his hip before shifting to look at where your cocks were touching. held together in a tight fist, your hand already soiled with his cute load of precum as well as his stomach. he never noticed it before but gods, your strap was dwarfing him in size and girth. he would surely die if he takes that big thing inside himself!

but when you don’t seem to hear his pleas and only continue to fuck your strap and his weeping cock together in a faster pace into the tight grip of your fist — even rocking your hips forward too! — the poor elf was sure he was going to see the bright skies of valinor that night. whimpers turning into broken wails, punched out sobs of your name falling out of his now bloodied lips as he covers his face with his hands. he could feel the hot tears that fell from his eyes, wiping them away with cute pathetic sniffles as you tighten your fist just at the heads. another squeeze and one more before he was crying out your name in a shrill scream, his legs around your hips tightening, shaking even, as he finally feels himself cumming alongside you. translucent colored seeds mixing together, dirtying his stomach and even shooting up to his heaving chest

“…s-shoo goowdd… aaanh hhagc—♡︎ c-cum..♥︎ cumming ’gainn hhgaaa♥︎ ughk haahg [n-naawme], [namenamenamena—]♥︎♥︎” the elf sobbed out weakly, a putty in your hands as he feels his cock slowly grow flaccid. if it weren’t for the rough pads of your fingers tracing circles around his clenching rim and the feeling of your clean hand push away his hands from his face, your elf bf would have most definitely been sure that he had died and was re-embodied. yet despite the fuzziness in his brain and the way his blood seemed to circulate too quickly through his veins, his body unconsciously pressed itself against you, against your fingers as if seeking for more pleasure

thats enough thirsting yall, go do yalls assignments

[hmusunoo]

I really didn't want to do this but at this point I cannot stand behind and allow a group of people to berate and bully my friends for simply putting boundaries between them. There has been so much hate and disgusting things happening on Tumblr lately and I whole heartedly believe that these people have to do with the many hate accounts circulating, I have a ton of evidence to why these people are not good people and they genuinely need to be stopped.

Bullying is not cute, it's not funny, it's not you being "Real." no, you're just being plain fucking mean. I have evidence on only a few people for things they have said and done, but I think that their entire friend group is guilty. I am almost certain that they send each other anon hate asks so that they can respond being "real" and get more attention on themselves.

Firstly, where I think this all originated, now I am telling this in a way that I can explain as best as I can and from when I was there, I know that prior to this incident these people had an issue respecting my friend Mars's pronouns (something they continue to do) When mars set these boundaries with an account called Jaeyunsonly, Eva (jaeyunonlys) continued to do it. Eva would call mars "girl" and Mars simply asked for her to not call them that, Eva apologized but then continued to do it, so mars unfollowed and made the decision to no longer associate theirselves with Eva, which is completely understandable and should not warrant the hate that their receiving.

Now, coming from where myself and Kaia come in. Kaia and Eva would talk very little I think I was told that had only had a total of two conversations and weren't close at all but still Kaia was friendly with Eva. Eva joined my discord server and she was really nice and cool at first. One night when myself and Kaia were on Vc as we did a lot Eva joined, we were ok with that of course anyone was welcome to join the vc. Eva mainly kept on mute and again, we were fine with that Kaia and I carried along with our conversation as normal. That was until Eva muted and told us that her friend was getting "freaky" to our American voices.

It had made me and Kaia a bit uncomfortable but we tried to brush it aside. After that Kaia decided to make a new smau and Eva messaged her with a message that had made Kaia a bit uncomfortable.

and although we can admit that this was in good faith, it made Kaia a little uncomfortable seeing as Eva and her were not very good friends and we had gotten bad vibes since she had said that her friend was getting "freaky from our voices" Kaia messaged Eva back, very respectfully to say that she wasn't comfortable with her unsolicited advice.

This was written very respectfully and after that Kaia was no longer interested in being Eva's friend. Which she HAS THE RIGHT TO. This is when the hateful messages started and the little indirects. We even shortly realized that a weird, ableist and quite frankly racist message that came into my inbox a while back was none other then Eva as well only further us not wanting to be associated with her.

Read it and weep, this is such a weird thing to say. There are ot7 briize of every race, nationality and everything why feel the need to attack one over the other and to also call them mentally challenged?? Actually insane, not even to mention the P DIDDY JOKES SHES MADE. Like what ? and Honeybelle, let me even get into honeybelle. This was her response to Eva's pdidy jokes.

was it "satire" to p diddy's victims honeybelle? was it just a "joke" to them. Like be so for real this is so disgusting, and saying it was just SATIRE. come on where is the accountability?

but I think its obvious that nothing bothers honeybelle seeing as she thinks its ok to write smut that includes minors even if theyre not included in the actual sexual acts.

Like what?? Here's the story too btw you be the judge, she also mentioned and later deleted that the reader was high school but a cam girl?? read these and ket me know exactly what the fuck you think.

"I realize that Riki is still a kid but im too lazy to re edit" what. speaks for itself.

She even deleted a sentence I very much remember where jay says to reader that "she is just a hole for Riki to fuck." like what?? that's sick. Not even to mention that Honeybelle's work is very very similar to Mars...anyways.

Something that mars tried to handle in private and was very respectful about, they use this as another thing to attack mars and Kaia about.

you would count this as resolved right? but they just cant seem to let it go. As they relentlessly continue to bully Kaia and mars over it. Kaia and mars have done nothing but set boundaries and theyre getting attacked for it.

In comes virtualhoon and all her friends or moots idk. And although Virtualhoon has a right to say whatever she wants on her account sure, she should not be allowed to BULLY people. You aren't being "real" you're being a mean girl. Then you say you want everyone out of your business but continue to make posts and respond to anons talking about the situations and lets me real, what are the chances that all this friend group is sending the anons to further the issue. Mars and Kaia have not spoken about it but when they do they get berated (I have further screenshots of this.)

but also the AAV...but anyways.

Bullies. bullies. bullies.

fast forward to today where mars was ONCE AGAIN, misgendered and Kaia came to their defense and this is their response.

like y'all think talking to people like this is ok?? no wtf. This is disgusting and if you think this kind of behavior is OK? you're just as bad. Also, isn't the way these people talk very very familiar to all these hate accounts floating around and if they can talk about people this bluntly then what do you think they say behind an ALT. I dont have solid proof of that but come on, we're not stupid.

also... come on this is so racist.

This is only scratching of what have done, if you go to virtualhoon's profile you can see countless times that she has attacked Kaia unprovoked. This is the act of bullies, i'm sick of the negativity on Tumblr but I don't care this has to be said.

@heeambi, @chobunz , @leeechin , @pshbites , @jaysng , @suneng

@coqhee , , @st1llm0nster , @nshmuras , @won4kiss , @wonsdoll , @jaemna , @vveebee ee , @lunesdesire e , @lvnglysunoo oo ,

just tagging moots for awareness, not saying you’re involved.

[hannieoftheyear]

Warning Signal (jww) TEASER

Two targets you need to figure out, alongside the one person you most despise, and zero mistakes allowed.

As the lives of your targets get more and more intertwined, and your plan gets more complicated, memories of the past and feelings you thought you could put aside threaten to ruin the mission.

pairing: criminal!wonwoo x criminal!reader

w.c: 915 (for the teaser), full work will be over 20k

release date: tbd

genre: exes to partners in crime to lovers, violence, angst, smut (not in the teaser)

content warnings (for the full work): vague descriptions of what their "job" actually is, criminal acts, stalking, spying, invasion of privacy, use of fake names, fake identities, stealing (both reader and wonwoo do all of the above), mentions of guns, fight scenes, blood, murder, death (not the main characters) | the story will contain flashbacks written in cursive (such as this teaser)

note: this is very different from what i've been posting so far, but i had a dream about a similar story and couldn't get it out of my mind.

on that note, i'm not sure when i'll be able to finish this bc it's taking a lot of time to make sure everything makes sense and for the relationship to be fully fleshed out. it might be done by january (that sounds so weird to say omg)

if anyone wants to be on the taglist, comment this post!

“The bit is over Wonwoo, go home.”

“Let’s just work together, one last time.” His voice reaches closer and closer from behind you until you stop walking and force yourself to face him. 

“Not only do I not need your help, I especially don’t want it.” 

“Look, I’m not asking you to forgive me, just–” He appears to have regretted what he was about to say, and you don’t wait for him to gather his thoughts. 

“Just what? Understand it? We’re way past that don’t you think?” 

“We’re good together,” your brain glitches with astonishment before he corrects himself, “We always worked better when we did these jobs together, you know that.” 

“You have some serious nerve, after last time, the least I should do it rat you out right this second.” 

“You wouldn’t do that, it’s not your style.” 

“To fuck over my partners? No, that’s yours.” 

He's trying to charm his way into your life again, like the past few months could disappear at the flash of a smile, and you'll be damned if you let him.  

“Let’s just see it as a mere trade of information, nothing more.” Neither his voice nor his expression suggests that he’s trying to deceive you, and you hate that you're even considering his offer.  

“And I wouldn’t have to see your face ever again after?” 

“That would be your loss, but sure. One last job and we’d be done.” 

“Are you being serious?” 

It’s hard to trust him. No matter how much he insists it’s his only goal. But it’s true that whatever knowledge he collected on that dude would save you a lot of time and resources, and you have to do this job well to prove yourself to your boss. 

“Dead serious. I promise.” 

A year before… 

The waitress, with purple bags under her eyes and bleach blonde hair tied up in a bun on the edge of falling undone, sighed on the way to tell the same client, for the fourth time in two hours, that it was prohibited to smoke inside the establishment. You saw that man doing countless other illegal things while sitting on that same dark booth the entire night, but the bar drew the line at smoking indoors. 

He huffed at her but ultimately put the cigarette out against the wood table. There were fewer and fewer people the more the time passed, and soon enough, it was going to be too suspicious for you to still be there. You couldn’t be the only customer left in the bar when he left, but the person he was still waiting for was the key to all this, and you couldn’t leave without that information. 

An ‘80s country song started playing on the radio, and the man started tapping his fingers against the table, following the rhythm of the classic. It was almost serene, the way he relaxed at the sound of the familiar tune, but the night started to feel more and more like a waste of time. Whatever the deal was with the person who wasn’t showing up, it was clearly not happening. 

“Can I buy you a drink?” A familiar figure sat in front of you at the secluded booth you kidnapped for the whole night. But the smile that appeared on your face at him quickly dissipated. 

“You shouldn’t be here. It’s too empty.” Besides the staff, you and the old man, there were only three people inside the dusty bar at that time, all alone, too drunk and on the brink of leaving. It was almost impossible not to stand out in that crowd. 

“Don’t worry, I called in a few favors.” Just as Wonwoo finished his sentence, a group of at least ten men, talking loudly and in the mood to celebrate something, walked into the tiny bar, disrupting the serenity but providing you with much needed cover. 

“You’re so... resourceful.” Your words mixed with a giggle as the atmosphere changed from calm and musty to a playful bachelor-esque party inside the bar. “How did you know I was here?” 

“I always know where you are, baby.” A chill climbed up your spine at his teasing smile. “And also, I was waiting for a guy to show up here. He’s supposed to be meeting someone.” 

The loud laugh that escaped you almost beat the drunk shouting of the bachelors in volume. It was easy to connect the dots, and it also wasn’t the first time something like this had happened. 

“You know something I don’t?” Wonwoo’s eyes didn’t stray away from the smile on your lips. 

You just giggled as your eyes darted towards the sketchy old man, who was back to smoking, seeing that the staff’s attention was focused on the new customers. You could feel Wonwoo’s gaze stay on you for a second before following yours, and the realization hit him quickly, the years of working together serving their purpose. 

“Yours?” The amusement in his voice made you nod eagerly, sipping on the mocktail that had been sitting untouched on the table for over an hour. “It’s been a while.” 

This job, the thing that you do for a living, got lonely every now and then. Doing everything on your own, not being able to share it with the people closest to you, can take a toll on anyone, no matter how detached they're able to get. So, when you got a chance to work with the one you love, you were for sure gonna take it. 

“I know, it’s gonna be fun.”  

thank you for reading! i love this story and i cant wait to finish it so you all can finally read it!

remember! if you want to join the taglist, comment on this post ♡

[vigilskeep]

Hey Harker, if I can pick your brain quickly please, what are your thoughts on a crow rook who is older than viago?

okayyy fun. here are some Thoughts

they seem to have opted to specifically state rook de riva is young because it makes the dynamic make sense. so you have to come up with reasons why it does still makes sense if rook is older. why is he the head of house and you’re the backing guy? why does he feel comfortable scolding you for your impulsiveness? why aren’t you in on big plans like the one you interrupted by killing that antaam patrol? especially when rook has to be capable of leadership considering, you know, the plot.

the easiest answer for why he’s the one in charge is that he’s the one with the ambition, and also that his noble birth makes him an easier sell. he’s going to have weird insecurities about the latter if it’s very relevant because it’s something he generally has weird insecurities about

i think it would be fun for rook, who is easy to characterise as an impulsive funnyman and who viago is definitely constantly frustrated with, to be a kind of lazy drunk uncle archetype (gender neutral). viago knows what you’re capable of, maybe you even trained him when he was younger and he still has this big (and accurate!) idea of what you can do, but as far as you’re concerned, he asked for all the responsibilities and now they’re his. with a talon in power who not-that-deep-down likes you too much to do anything about it, your job was just to drink wine, tell embarrassing stories to the rank and file that make them less scared of him, and kill only when you felt like it. until you pushed that a bit too far...

that’s one take. or maybe you’re an advisor, a kind of conniving grandmother archetype (gender neutral) to match caterina a little. you don’t want to hold power because you belong in the shadows with the gentle touch of an advisor. here, viago’s frustration is that he feels you’re always his worst critic, but when do you ever get the job done yourself? you let other people slide, a softer presence that never lets viago’s harshness push allies too far away. you never let him get away with a single mistake, just as precise and demanding as when he was a child learning. but how could you, when if a talon slips, he dies?

a more specific concept for anyone’s usage: it would be a lot of fun if you were a member of his predecessor’s family, an “actual” de riva the way lucanis is an “actual” dellamorte. i was working on something like this for a more typical rook, but there’s a version where you’re the previous generation who never wanted the job so you handed it off as soon as possible to the ambitious little freak who does. maybe keeping you out of a big plan with the other talons was an attempt to prove to them once and for all that he stands on his own two feet

in any case, it would break my heart a little to have raised viago or been his older sibling figure when he was so closed-off and paranoid in tevinter nights that he never let anyone touch him. teia having relaxed some of that— he wears fingerless gloves in the game—would mean a great deal

[bayeprose]

‿︵ ‧˚⭒ excerpt from please stay, hippocrene on ao3

(warning: contains suggestive text + mentions of kissing) ‧˚⭒

Frank eventually sputtered, “I’m... I’m just gonna try to explain what happened, and you can just tell me to shut up when it’s TMI, okay?” “Okay.” Percy said. He lowered his voice even more. Shadows from the gray sky made it seem like he was about to tell a ghost story. “Last night, things with Hazel got kind of... weird...” “Weird?” “Yeah... weird.” “How weird?” “We... we were kissing.” “Oh.” Percy blinked. That’s not where he thought this was going. “Okay. Uh... do you guys not usually do that, or—” “No, no, we’ve kissed before. But this time, we really kissed. A lot. Like, we were making out. And it was great.” Out of respect, Percy tried not to visibly grimace. No offense to either of them, but Hazel was like a little sister to him, and it felt really strange to hear Frank talk of her like that. It just wasn't something that he wished to visualize. “Okay,” he said calmly. Really. He was trying his best to be calm. “And?” “Well...” Frank twiddled his thumbs. “We’ve never done that before. And it got really intense, and I... I kind of reacted to it too much.” Now, here was some telling information, finally. Percy felt like he was starting to understand what his friend was getting at. But... their first time making out? Last night? Really? Percy’s free time was quite limited, and he spent approximately zero seconds of his days thinking about what other people in his circle did behind closed doors. He’s a--‘That’s none of my business.’--type of guy, to the extent that Annabeth was often irritated by his lack of interest in demigod drama. She’d come to him with fresh, riveting gossip like, “Did you hear? Sherman and Miranda got caught in the Big House together.” and he’d have little more to say than, “I forgot they were dating.”

Like... sure, he figured that the couples he knew of were sleeping together. He could even surmise that the singles he knew of might be sleeping together. But... so what? They’re adults, now; it’s not really all that scandalous or interesting, and in fact, people not sleeping together seemed a lot more noteworthy than the alternative. So to hear that Frank and Hazel had never even made out before... not only was it noteworthy, considering how long they’ve been together, but it was so surprising that he needed to know more in spite of his discomfort with the sordid subject matter. Is this why people like gossip? “... Wait,” Percy started nervously. “What do you mean you ‘reacted too much’?” Frank blushed, which made Percy even more nervous. “Um... Hazel was, well, we were on the couch, and we just finished a movie, and we were just really close, and I kind of— “Oh gods, Frank, you didn’t... do that, did you?”

Summary: In Frank's eyes, Percy and Annabeth are the perfect demigod couple. They're grown, they're engaged, and they've overcome so much together. Feeling helpless in escalating his own relationship to their coveted adult achievements, he seeks out Percy's help. Unbeknownst to Frank, Percy and Annabeth are grappling with some intimacy struggles of their own.

read on ao3 ⭒ 25k/ongoing ⭒ explicit content/18+ only ⭒ percabeth/frazel

[martialartslover7]

Weird Wednesday Headcanon: Outside of Team 7, Neji, Shikamaru and Kiba sympathize the most with Sasuke's fall from grace after the Five Kage Summit.

Alright, this is another headcanon of mine that can be written off as "mental", but hear me out, this has so much potential.

I'd like to think that, outside of Team 7, Sasuke wasn't just closely acquainted with Naruto, Sakura or Kakashi, but also:

Neji (whom we even got a small teaser hint of a rivalry between him and Sasuke for, which sadly, never came to be, because Byakugan VS Sharingan is a question in the community, that truly needs answering)

Shikamaru (shogi rivals, nuff' said, the only guy, that managed to corner Shikamaru at his own game, I mean, Sasuke is meant to be a genius too, so, why not?)

Kiba (just being around him, Sasuke's IQ just automatically decreases, but in a fun way, like Renji and Uryu from Bleach, considering, Kiba had lived most of his life, surrounded by moody, dominating women, and he might be Sasuke's "stay-in wingman", when it comes to Sakura, or they would just talk about how tiring women can be, but they do manage to get best results out of you with their motivation, and he would be way easier to handle for Sasuke, because unlike Naruto, Kiba ain't braindead)

These are the three main players, but if you want, you can also put Choji and Rock Lee into the mix, considering that, later down the road, Sasuke's and Choji's daughter would end up becoming besties, and if Might Guy wouldn't survive the war, he and Lee can become the new Kakashi and Might Guy, the next generation, if you will. And this is ironic, because...

...just by coincidence, who else was sent to get Sasuke back, to prevent him from defecting to Orochimaru? Ah yes.

But now, I get to the meat and bones of this thread. And that being, the reason why I believe personally, it was a wasted opportunity to not give Sasuke more personal allies that sympathize with his actions, after he joined the Akatsuki.

Like, NO ONE can tell me, that the Uchiha weren't the only ones, who were under close observation within Konoha borders, by the elders. Sure, they were the biggest target, but it leaves you asking, especially in regards to those clans, who are either the strategist faction, or possess sensory type abilities: What about them? Wouldn't they suspect that something was going horribly wrong over there, at the Uchiha compound? Did absolutely NO ONE hear the screams, or blood splatters? I am just not sold on the idea that EVERYONE in Konoha blindly agreed to Tobirama's discriminatory policies, some had to know better than most. The select few, who weren't exactly fans of just distancing themselves from another clan, all because some frankly racist piece of garbage for a Hokage said so, along with the useless shitstains, that are the Konoha elders, especially Danzo.

And now, three people come to mind, where I truly felt like, they could have been there that night, when the Uchiha clan was being slaughtered, and they were either too late to stop it, or Itachi had knocked them out with his Genjutsu (which purposely contradicts Madara's propaganda about "no one in the village cared about the Uchiha, and only saw them as tools"). And ironically, they are probably the very select few of the adult shinobi, who weren't complete sub-human trash.

Hizashi Hyuga.

Shikaku Nara.

Tsume Inuzuka.

Just picture these three adults being the only ones, who caught on to what was happening, through not just the screams of terror, the smell of blood, or seeing through the walls with the Byakugan from Hizashi. But sadly, by the time they arrive, most of the Uchiha were already slaughtered. And right before they could even act to evacuate those, who may have survived, Itachi arrives, and knocks them clean out with his Tsukuyomi, not killing them, as their passing would just cause an uproar throughout the village, the following day.

And once Danzo learns, that three non-Uchiha, Leaf shinobi, were actually present that night, and they may or may not have caught a glimpse of who else was there that night, Hizashi, Shikaku and Tsume were forced to stay silent on the matter, as Danzo threatened them, through the lense of the ROOT Anbu:

"Dare to let a single word about last night's events slip, then your clans will be receiving severe repurcussions."

I mean, sure, it's kind of silly to try and silence three unrelated Leaf ninja into keeping silent, but considering how paranoid the elderly can be, especially Danzo, I wouldn't put it past him to actually go there.

And how convenient, because as the story progressed, two of these adults would wind up deceased. Shikaku died in the 4th Great Ninja war. One piece of the puzzle, gone.

Hizashi would actually be the first one to die, before all two of them, because the Hyuga clan was trying to mend their security blunder that one fateful night, when someone from Kumogakure tried to kidnap Hinata. But keeping in mind everything I just said, it just adds another layer to how corrupt this shinobi system truly is. Who is to say, Danzo basically bribed the Hyuga elders to sacrifice Hizashi, in place of Hiashi, because he couldn't possibly risk that one defiant Hyuga showing lip to the Hokage? Something to think about. Even if Hiruzen remains a useless piece of shit. You can never be TOO careful, right?

Tsume would probably be the only adult to keep on living, to tell the tale, and through her, does Kiba learn, how deep the rabbit hole with Danzo actually goes, and how Sasuke's hatred for the village MIGHT be """mildly""" justified. Especially if Neji and Shikamaru were to approach him about their own clan blunders, involving Danzo, right after his passing at the hands of Sasuke.

But especially Neji, man... If everything I said gets applied in practice, it would mean, outside of Naruto, he might also be considered worthy of facing Sasuke in battle, after the Five Kage Summit. Because, not only does he more than understand how it truly feels to lose family and loved ones, but also, how this entire shinobi system is essentially screwing over those, who were unfortunate enough to be born into families, that get treated like dirt by the government, that is supposed to protect them. Just imagine their exchange, while Kiba faces off against Jugo, and Shikamaru holds Suigetsu at bay.

"A slave to your own family... I really don't need another moral lecture from a man, who willingly decided to stick to his own kin, despite them viewing you as nothing short of cannonfodder. And yet, despite it all, you still side with them... Run, Neji. Run and hide with your insignificant existence weighing you down, before I tear you to pieces." --Sasuke

"No, Sasuke. You're wrong. If it's any consolation, I am more than able to sympathize with your current state of mind. As of recently, I had to learn the hard way, that you and I, at the end of the day, are not so different. Believe me, you're not the only one, who was royally screwed over by the same village that you once swore to protect. The only reason, why I am not defecting, is because I still have family left to protect... Which is something I cannot say on your behalf, as much as it saddens me to say this. You have every right to hate us. Especially considering, we believed the rumors first, leaving no room for you to speak up and defend yourself. I didn't come to lecture you. And I won't run... because I am going to make you listen." --Neji

Pretty epic, isn't it? I am sorry, Neji is just the GOAT to me, and anything to make him and Sasuke spiritual broskies, I am here for that. Just visualize how adrenaline-driven their encounter would end up being, if you add the Bankakyo Byakugan into the mix. This is how Neji's Bankakyo would look like (source by Aleister Brown):

And for context on what this eye gives Neji for busted abilities, which make him a more or less equal match to Sasuke, after he got Itachi's eyes implanted:

Left eye: Foresight (he can look 10 seconds into the future, to predict Sasuke's moves, before he could even pull them off)

Right eye: Timeskip (improves his Taijutsu, by basically freezing time all around himself, and teleporting, at anything his eyes can see for time)

And, to make it even, with the Bankakyo, you can even summon a chakra avatar, similar to the Susano'o called, Sarutakahiko, take a look:

And because it's me, this is the music that plays in my mind, every time I am trying to visualize their fight, with these conditions being met:

...and to end this thread on a more comical note, when I said, Sasuke's IQ lowers around Kiba, and I compared the two to Renji and Uryu, here is why. It's even more ironic when you consider, Uryu and Sasuke have the same seiyuu! Noriaki Sugiyama! Check it:

OK, OK, enough with that. Have a nice day.

Peace.

[mistynatruther]

i was trying to sleep but i needed to get this out somewhere so here i am:

with this new scene of young silco and the new knowledge we have of him knowing jinx’s mom made a lot of people who favor jinx and silco’s relationship come out of hiding, so i just have a few words. now this has probably been said before but i have curated my space to not show me much silco and jinx tbh for this specific reason.

so don’t get me wrong. i LOVE their relationship. it has made me cry on multiple occasions. but what really GETS me in this fandom is the romanization of it. and i don’t mean the part where people say their relationship give off weird vibes ( bc i GET that one ) but i mean the people who think everything in the show revolves around them two. that their relationship was the BEST and he cared about her more than anybody and he was such a GOOD dad.

bc i feel like we watched two different shows.

because to me, sometimes, their relationship barely feels like a father/daughter relationship. yes, he raised her. but it’s more than that. silco is a deeply traumatized man who has clung onto a child who he THINKS ( !!!!!!! ) is just like him.

and what i mean by this is:

he projects onto her soooo much. if you remember the scene in the monster you created when he’s telling her that everyone has abandon and betrayed them and blah blah blah… it’s not true! it’s him wanting her to be like him so bad, him grabbing and pulling and gripping onto somebody who understands him. it’s unhealthy.

when silco looks at vi, he doesn’t see felicia’s daughter, he sees vanders. and with that, he sees the betrayal. and it hurts him. vi, unintentionally, harms him in ways that he, himself, does not understand. when he looks at vi, all he can see is the the life he once had and the hurt he now has.

so he’s projecting his pain and trauma onto jinx because she is SOOO vulnerable. she is deeply traumatized as well, but it’s not in the same way silco is. because he says it over and over again, he says that vi ABANDONED jinx when she didn’t. she never did. never would have. he wants jinx to have gone through what he did so he’s not alone.

i think jinx and silco’s relationship is very sweet at times and i could never be mad that he took her in, because in that moment, she truly had nobody else. vi got taken away, her family was dead, where would she go? i mean sure, she would’ve ended up as a firelight probably, but silco didn’t know that. all he saw was himself when he looked at her.

and i saw some people saying he held her because he knew who she was and it was because of felicia, but when you rewatch that scene with the context of him and vander’s past, it’s so clear that vander is his motive, not felicia.

he sees powder and when she says that vi is not her sister anymore, in his head, he believes that he has now found a kindred spirit. someone who is just like him. “we will show them all” he is saying that they will show everybody that it was THIER loss, vi and vander lost silco and powder, not the other way around. “we will show them all” that we did not let this affect us like it could have!

idk rambling is now over. it’s 1am and i work in the morning but i could not get this out of my head.

( also pls don’t take this as jinx and silco hate cause it’s not! like i said i only appreciate their relationship but i appreciate it for WHAT IT IS and not what the fandom wants it to be. i just think they’re interesting and complex and severely trauma bonded. vander is jinx’s dad. silco was the man who raised her. there’s a difference. and yes, her love for silco would be so much stronger bc she spent so much more time with him!! anyways good night. )

[witchthewriter]

𝐘𝐚𝐧𝐝𝐞𝐫𝐞 𝐑𝐚𝐧𝐝𝐚𝐥𝐥 𝐡𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐜𝐚𝐧𝐨𝐧𝐬

⤷ gender neutral, ambiguous race, and any size reader. Requests are open, thank you for reading!

a/n: thank you anon!

Warnings: Yandere behaviour, 18+

ᴹᵃˢᵗᵉʳˡᶤˢᵗ | ᴹᵃˢᵗᵉʳˡᶤˢᵗ ᴵᴵ

𝑺𝑭𝑾🌿

・You enjoy this a lot.

・But you would never tell Randall that. It would only fuel his arrogance - and he definitely has more than the average person

・Other people in town think it's completely normal behaviour for Randall though. He's always been defensive, possessive, especially of what was his.

・And that includes you.

・Randall demands to know where you are everyday, what you're doing and who it's with

・Anyone gets too close to you? Nah - he's saying something about it.

・Aka his bark is just as fierce as his bite. Any threats are usually followed through... and people rarely look you in the eye, especially when he's around.

・A small community with constant stressors can put anyone over the edge, but it doesn't take much for Randall

・His intimidating persona around other people has a complete turn around when you're alone.

・When Randall's with you, he's very sensitive, wanting your attention, following you everywhere.

・He doesn't want you to be afraid of him like everyone else is. Randall wants you to see the real him and love him anyway. It's vulnerable and that surprised you.

・Likes to smell you - nuzzles your neck, smells your hair when you walk past. When you're not together, he'll smell your clothes.

・Loves when you smell like him too.

・Still gets frazzled when you show him affection.

・Loves when you stroke his face and gently kiss his eyelids. Shivers run down his spine.

・Even though he thinks of you as his, he doesn't understand that you think of him as yours.

・To you, he's a guardian, a protector, someone who has your back no matter what. But you would die for him, just as he would die for you.

・At the root of his affections is the feeling that you'll get tired of him.

・But little does he know, you're just as obsessed with him.

𝑁𝑆𝐹𝑊 🔞 No one under the age of 18 past this point, makes me feel weird if you read it.

・Likes to come up behind you and press his hard on against your backside. His mouth kissing the side of your neck, his hands wandering underneath your shirt.

"Mine," he grunts, turning you around and kissing your lips, hard.

・Spanks your ass, and usually with you across his lap with your ass in the air. Can range from slight slaps, to hard hits... depending on the mood

・Marks you up - hickies, bruises, scratches, bite marks.

・He likes fucking you in the bus, at night. In front of not only the creatures, but anyone who opens their curtains.

・You're also being loud enough that the neighbours can hear

"They need to know who you belong to."

[gloomuri671]

Entry #??

Sae Itoshi x Reader

A/N: I got this entry from my order brother. He found it and went through the trouble of translating it to English for us. Everyone say, "Thank you, Idy." Now I owe him those nine hundred gems... Haha 🥲

Previous Chapter Masterlist Next Chapter

Entry #??

I'm an asshole.

I've always know that, people tell me all the time. Not her, though. Y/n L/n, my best friend, has never once thought me in such a bad light. Which is why I'm an asshole. Because I dream of her. I crave her.

"A man could offer me millions of diamonds, but all I'd care about are the ones watching me right now. Looking at me with a hunger I'd only ever fantasize about. Such precious jewels and right now they're all mine," she mumbled in a daze. Her pussy grinding on mine. Oh my fucking.... "All yours," I whispered to her, desperately holding back a whimper. "Oh my god," she gasped. Was she not supposed to say that out loud? Adorable. "All fuching yours," I said again, planting kisses on her neck. These fucking clothes are in my way. Would she be mad if I ripped them off? "Always been," I whispered in her ear, grinding us closer together. Can't I just stay here forever?

"Another dream," I mumbled. Ah, yes, my little secret. I fantasize about my best friend. A guilty pleasure and why I'm an asshole. Because while she's unaware and sleeping peacefully at night, I'm stroking myself to the thought of her. Edging myself to the thought that maybe she'd use her hand like this: slow, with a rhythm she hums to herself so innocently. That same hum she makes up when she's concentrating on something so intently. Or maybe she'd have mercy on me and speed up a bit. Her hands are smaller than mine, but I know they would feel so much better wrapped around me. I see her under me, her nails scratching at my back. Those same nails she got done recently with Margret. I can almost feel it.

Only this time, the dream almost felt.. real? I haven't heard her openly compliment my eyes since we met. But it was so refreshing to hear. Something screams in me, wanting me believe it wasn't a dream. Oh Lord have mercy on me. "Fuck," I muttered. "How stupid can I be?"

Lately, Y/n's been weird. She's always been weird, but today she's weirder than usual - her and those two idiots. I cornered Jordan during soccer practice to hopefully get some answers. If something's wrong with her, why didn't she tell me? "What the hell is going on with Y/n?" I asked bluntly. He visibly got nervous, it makes me realize he hasn't been so nervous around me anymore until now. Was that her doing? "U-umm I don't know what your talking about, dude," he said, "Y/n's been the same old N/n since she was a tot."

Was he seriously trying to lie to my face? "Tell me," I demanded. "Look, babe," he sighed, "Your girl is probably on her period. Give her some space would you? She'll come around when she's ready." I quirked a brow at that. Does he think I'm stupid? I'm not stupid. Was he really trying to blame this on her menstrual cycle? "No she's not," I told him, "I have her cycle on on my phone. She doesn't get them until two weeks from now." His once nonchalant facade faded ever so slowly.

"Even if she was, she wouldn't have ghosted me this weekend," I said. It's true. Y/n comes through my door whenever her period starts. It's one of the reasons I'm paying forty dollars a year on "Flo" to keep track of her cycle. Because, Lord knows, that girl will raid my fridge for my ice cream and will claim all my hoodies. She'd never know I only stock up on ice cream three days before in advance for her. Another secret that will never come to light.

Jordan continued to avoid me question, but now it was clear. Something is going on with my Y/n...and it might have something to do with me. "Did I do something wrong last Friday?" I interrogated. "More like something right," he muttered, but I caught it. "Something right?" I wondered. He panicked and looked around. "Look, Sae," he sighed, "Nothing's wrong. She's just stuck in her head at the moment. Got something on her mind. You know how much of an air head N/n can be." I just turned around and went to the benches. I relaxed a bit knowing I didn't fuck up somewhere between drink number one and Saturday morning.

When I sat down, two hands gently started massaging my shoulders. My eyes widened, but relaxed when she started speaking. "You did great out there," Y/n said, "Like always of course." Something's changed. She's never done this before. I could here some of those lukewarm atheletes hollering and cheering for me in the back. I couldn't careless. "I know," I said, "I've got something to tell you later. Come over tomorrow?"

"Sure, but why tomorrow? Can't I come over today?" She wondered. Of course you could. That's why I gave you a key in the first place. "I've got to do laundry today," I told her. Her grip slightly tightened on my shoulders making me sigh. "Oh," she muttered.

I groaned when she hit a certain spot, such dangerous hands. How could such an innocent woman have such dangerous hands? She kept on for a while, the team huddled on the other side, then she let up. "Thought you might've needed that," Y/n explained. You have no idea. "It was good," I said. She smiled at me then my vision flashed.

She cradled my face with one hand while sat on my lap. She smiled at me. "There's those pretty eyes," she whispered, "So handsome." ... Fucking hell. I almost came right then and there.

My eyes widened and I cough into my jersey. "You okay?" Y/n asked me, "You're being weird today." So are you, I wanted to say, but I held back. "Nothing, I'm just remembered something," I explained. She looked at me weirdly and nodded slowly. What's going on in that beautiful mind?

On the way home, I noticed Jordan following me. "Your house is the other way," I reminded. He caught up a and shrugged his shoulders. "Maybe I want to hang out with my friend," he said. Is he serious? I side-eyed him before saying, "I'm not interested." Jordan let out an offensive gasp before slapping my shoulder. "So am I," he said, "I'm gay, but not for you, babe. I'm just here to hang out with you because sugar tits is worried about you." I raised an eyebrow at that. Worried about me?

As soon as I open the door, Jordan makes a dash for my bathroom. I clicked my tongue and made a dash for the room too. I take the laundry basket from his hands before he could even attempt to make it for the washing machine. "Fess up, Lujan," I commanded, "Why do want to wash my clothes cause I swear it's because of Margaret-"

"What?! Ew no!"

"Then Y/n?"

"Well-"

"Fess up," I commanded, "Or else I'm telling Y/n about that little Japanese boy you've been texting." He paled at that before trying to come up with words to say after that. "Umm.. You... She... Ummm... Why didn't she choose Margaret!? UGH! Just look in the basket!" He let up. Well that wasn't so hard. It's not like the girls don't already know about the Japanese boy. If they weren't already set on sports then they would've been good FBI agents.

I open up the hamper and search through the clothes until my hand felt... Damp... Slowly I look at the trousers I held in my hands... Oh boy... "We-"

"Yep... Last Friday actually."

All I know is we definitely have to talk.

Idia: I'm never doing this again. Do you know the type of stuff he writes when it comes to her? I would've thought it was a soccer journal if not for the... Other stuff.

Me: Well I need the other stuff. Plz?

Idia: No.

Me:Everyone say "Thank you, Idy!" If you want another Entry from Sae!

Idia:I never agreed-

Me: Please?

Idia:... Fine.