#I HAVE TO GET EVEN MORE OBNOXIOUS IT SEEMS

[aventvrines]

second best ; sae itoshi x f!reader PART 1

note: got to 10k words and decided to cut it in half<3

wc ; 8.8k | content ; slow burn..? swearing, tension, angst, situationship, kissing, making out, crying, more angst, lots of timeskips, not proofread, reader has a huge crush on sae bc tbh who wouldn't, sae is rich, cringe cliche tropes i'm sorry, english isn't my first language, two parter?, no prns but reader wears a dress, ooc, reader and sae both have rich and absentt

summary ; growing up with sae itoshi isn't quite what you'd expect

Sae Itoshi isn’t exactly sure when he first meets you – there are no formal introductions or anything of that sort. One day, you enter his life, and you never really bother to leave after. He’s kind of the same for you, appearing all of a sudden – your parents’ friends’ kid, a neighbor of yours – and never disappearing afterwards. As unlikely as it sounds, you’re probably one of his oldest friends – his first friend, as a matter of fact.  [Not including Rin, that is. And not including the fact that he doesn’t really see anyone as friends, either.] Coincidentally, you’re also his first kiss.

It’s another one of those things he’s not quite sure about; he doesn’t know how it happened or why, exactly. All he remembers is that he’s twelve, and you’re sulking on the swings next to him at the park, refusing to talk. He doesn’t really care, but you huff so obnoxiously, for so long that he’s forced to take the bait. Only because he feels a little bad for you, though. 

“What’s up?”

You perk up ever so slightly at the sound of his voice. It’s a small movement, one that only he sees, because playing soccer has already significantly honed his senses, and because he’s known you for the past seven years. You’re still upset, though, judging from the stupid pout on your face. The one that annoys him to the core, for some reason, even though he doesn’t even care. 

“The boys in class called me ugly,” you sigh. Sae thinks he’s too mature to worry about little things like these, but you’re still tender, and apparently it matters a lot to you. He’s not the type to lie to comfort people, and he doesn’t lie when he replies to you. It’s a simple statement, one that he doesn’t think too much of.

“You are pretty, though,” he says. He’s confused; why would the others lie to you? You’re not ugly in the slightest.

“What?”

“I said, you are pretty,” he repeats.  

You shake your head. 

“Not pretty like in a friends way, Sae,” you chastise him with a tilt of your head. “Like, in a, uhh–” you cut yourself off, chewing on your bottom lip thoughtfully. “Like, you’d wanna kiss me, that kinda pretty.”

“I’d kiss you.”

This time you’re surprised. “No, you wouldn’t.”

“Yeah, I would.”

“Wouldn’t.”

“Would too.”

“Do it then,” you huff, confident that you’ve won the argument.

“Okay,” Sae replies, flat and emotionless. He slides off his swing, making his way towards yours. You stop swinging yourself, confused, and he grabs the ropes on either side of your swing, forcing its final halfhearted sways to an end. “So? Wanna kiss?”

It seems that you’ve finally realized he’s serious. “Oh…” 

“Well? Don’t waste my time,” he grumbles, but there’s no actual malice behind his words. He thinks you know him well enough to know that, and you do, because then you’re getting off your swing too, and there’s a tense, awkward moment before you lean in, and then–

It’s nothing like you’d imagined; there are no fireworks, and there’s no cheesy romance music in the background either. But the feeling of Sae’s lips on yours are terrifyingly real. But then he pulls back abruptly, wipes his mouth with the back of his hand, and looks you up and down quizzically. “Happy now?”

You seem unsure of what to say, and he doesn’t push it. Instead, he turns around, ready to leave. “I’ve got soccer practice later,” he announces. “I gotta go.”

Sae doesn’t need to see your face to know how it falls, disappointed. He doesn’t look back as he walks away, because even at this young age, he knows how to pick his battles. And he doesn’t really care about you all that much, but he still doesn’t like it when you’re sad.

“Bye,” you mutter, barely loud enough for him to hear.

 He doesn’t bring up the kiss the next day. Or the day after. Or after that. It’s like it never even happened. And if he were anyone, anyone else, you would’ve worried – even a little bit, because you’ve read those cute tween romance books that your best friend lends you – about how the friendship would work after this; but he’s Sae, and Sae doesn’t have friends. You’ve heard the whole spiel before – how he doesn’t care for friends, how he has Rin if he needs company, how soccer is always, always, always his first priority – and even though he’s basically told you that you aren’t friends, he’s never told you to leave either. So it’s not like he doesn’t like you, right?

But then again, it’s kinda changed everything for you. Because suddenly, Sae is no longer just Sae. It’s as if something in your brain finally clicks, and you realize that Sae is a boy too. It’s as if you’ve always seen him as an extension of your girlfriends, but now it’s different. So, so different. For the first time, you look at him like he’s one of the cute boys in class – because he is. 

And unbeknownst to you, Sae notices. He sees the way you stare at him unabashedly when you think he’s not looking, how your movements suddenly become more calculated around him. Suddenly, you’ve stopped speaking your mind around him, started caring more about your appearance instead. You’re more conscious of your words and actions, and you keep applying and reapplying the strawberry lipgloss that’s always on your person The regular afternoons at the swing set in the park before practice have turned into hanging out maybe once a fortnight; instead of bugging him to hang out, you now shyly wave goodbye at him after school, and he watches you run over to your friends. You all giggle and push each other around, and if he notices the indiscreet glances your friends throw at him, or hears one of you say his name, he makes an effort to steadfastly ignore it.

It’s already kind of pathetic, how obvious you are with your little crush on him. He tries his best to ignore it, even when your entire face burns red when he throws you a ghost of a smile. But sometimes, even he finds it hard to resist teasing you. He deserves it, right? In his mind, he does. If you’re going to pine over him like this, might as well mess with you at least once while you do so.

It’s a week before your thirteenth birthday – he’s already turned thirteen by then – when he looks at you, feigning curiosity. “Y/n?”

You look at him, startled. “Yeah?”

“What happened to that guy you used to like, what was his name again-”

“N-nothing!” you stammer, interrupting him. “I don’t like anyone, I mean him, anymore!”

Sae’s lips quirk up momentarily; he shakes his head and walks away as you blush and babble incoherently, hands stuffed deep into his pockets.

You’re actually kinda cute.

Kinda.

He doesn’t know why it feels this good to have you indirectly confirm that you like him.

Thirteen passes by so fast, but it leaves you dealing with so many changes too. 

There are no more afternoons spent at the swing set in the park.

At fourteen, you stop focusing on yourself for long enough to notice that Sae is changing too. He’s suddenly much taller than you, voice beginning to get deeper. He lets his reddish-brown hair grow out so it frames his face – somewhat unevenly, but it’s still pretty. He’s started to spend more time at soccer practice, and it shows. Like, physically. The muscles in his arms and legs have started to become more defined, and the number of girls who are into him have therefore increased drastically. It irks you. And then he actually starts dating, and it pisses you off even more, because 1) since you’ve basically grown up together, he’ll never see you as anything more than a friend, and 2) girls are basically lining up to date him, even when all the relationships he’s been in so far barely last a month, and his personality is ass, and he always prioritizes soccer more. 

He doesn’t deserve it just because he’s pretty.

You don’t really understand why they do it; you’ve been pining for him silently for almost two years, and even though you fantasize him liking you back, and marrying you in the future, you know you probably wouldn’t do anything with him, not right now, not when he’s like this. You hope that if anything happens with him, you’ll be sensible enough to not pursue it. And you even miss just being friends with him – now that he’s busy with soccer, and teaching Rin, and girls, he doesn’t have any time for anything else. Anything else being you, in this case. 

You barely talk to him anymore, and it’s not like he makes any effort either.

You miss him.

Sae doesn’t take all these relationships seriously at all; he’s fifteen, and no one really falls in love at fifteen, right? Besides, it’s not like any of these girls want him for anything other than his looks and money. They’re pretty, sure, and it’s fun sneaking around and having someone cheer for him at his soccer matches is nice, but he doesn’t really care for it in the end.

Freshman prom takes place when you’re almost sixteen. You’re one of those few people who doesn’t have a date; you’ve never dated anyone and quite frankly, you’re contemplating whether you should go at all. Maybe you won’t waste money on a dress and makeup and just stay home instead – it won’t be worth it to go alone and face the awkwardness of not having someone with you. All your friends have dates, so you’ll basically be alone anyways, and you don’t want them to give anything up for you – you know they would. 

You’re thinking of all this while stranded on one of the higher seats on the bleachers; your friend Asa’s boyfriend is at soccer practice, and she’s brought you with her to watch. You’re not very interested in whatever they’re doing down there, but Asa appears to be, since she’s left you up here alone to go down to talk to her boyfriend. You look up momentarily, not expecting to see anything interesting, but then you catch sight of a familiar number on the back of a jersey – number 10. Despite not wanting to give in to his effortless allure, you can’t help but drag your eyes down the vast expanse of his broad back, down to where it tapers off into a surprisingly small waist, and then his toned legs. If he’s like this at sixteen, you can’t even imagine what he’ll look like when he’s older.

And then he turns around. And your eyes meet. He smirks at you, as if he knows you’ve been staring. You tear your eyes away from his mesmerizing teal ones, trying to focus on the math book that’s perched precariously on your lap. A moment later, you glance up again, thinking he’s moved to some other part of the field, but instead he’s approaching the bleachers, specifically in your direction. You panic for a second – maybe he’s just going to talk to someone else down there, you tell yourself, trying to calm down. But then he starts climbing the steps, one by one, until he stops at your level. Please walk past me, please walk past me, please–

He sits down on the seat next to yours. You keep your gaze fixed firmly on the notebook, refusing to acknowledge his existence until he acknowledges yours.

“You got a date?”

“Huh?” your brain doesn’t register the question before your answer flies out of your mouth. “What?”

Sae sighs, pinching the bridge of his nose between his finger and thumb. Even now, sweaty and tired and annoyed, he looks absolutely gorgeous. “Prom, you have a date?”

“Actually I’m thinking of not going at all,” you admit sheepishly.

“Why not?” Sae has the audacity to actually look interested.

“It’ll be awkward,” you reply flatly. “All my friends have dates, but I don’t, so I won’t have anyone to be with, and if I tell them I’m going alone, they’ll just ditch their boyfriends to hang out with me. I don’t want that to happen.”

“Go with me, then.”

“What?”

“Be my date, to prom,” he sighs.

“Oh.”

“Oh, what?”

“Don’t you have a date? I thought girls chase you everywhere,” you scoff.

“What, you jealous?” he says, almost as if he’s musing.

“Of course not!” you lie.

“So? Is it a yes, or do I gotta find some other girl to take?”

“I don’t think you have to go looking to find one,” you reply coldly.

He snickers in response, but there’s no mirth behind it. “I’m serious. I want you to go with me.”

You’d hoped to be sensible in situations like these. Spoiler alert: you’d hoped wrong. You are, after all, only fifteen.

“What about your girlfriend, though?” you ask him later. 

“We broke up.” he replies curtly.  Of course they did. 

You ignore the twisted glee that boils in the pits of your stomach.

Your friends are probably more excited than you when you tell them who’s taking you to prom; you try to convince them – and also yourself – that it’s nothing like that, it’s purely platonic. But you still don’t know why he chose you. You’re also not sure why you accepted. If only he wasn’t so damn pretty. 

You’re not deaf – the whispers start as soon as you enter prom attached to the Sae Itoshi’s side, the corsage on your wrist matching the boutonnière on the lapel of his tuxedo. All eyes are on the two of you; the soccer prodigy and his childhood friend. But Sae is surprisingly courteous tonight. He notices your discomfort almost immediately, squeezing your hand reassuringly to calm you down. 

“Ignore them,” he advises you under his breath. He’s nothing like the person you’ve known so far. Is this how he treats his girlfriends? You shrug the thought off, instead forcing yourself to smile up at him. 

“I’m fine,” you murmur.

You’re not.

Sae is an excellent date; he dances with you until you’re tired, refuses to leave your side, and looks after your punch when you go to the bathroom. He seems somewhat tired, but it feels like he’s trying to hide it, so you don’t mention it. But then again, you’ve been wrapped up in your own thoughts again. Because of tonight, the emotional part of your crush on Sae has once again been reawakened – he’s no longer a piece of eye candy you stare at when you’re bored.

And then, just when you decide things can’t get any worse, they do.

“Y/n, Sae, c’mere,” calls Asa. “Let's play spin the bottle!”

You shake your head, about to refuse, but Sae grabs your hand and starts walking towards the small group that’s assembled around a glass bottle that’s half full of some dubious liquid you can’t quite identify. 

“Sure,” he says. “We’ll play.”

Fuck.

The circle consists of you, Sae, Asa, her boyfriend Denji, your other friend Maki, and a bunch of other people you don’t know by name. You’re sitting cross-legged on the wooden floor of the gymnasium, and for some reason, you have a really bad feeling about this. Maki goes first, leaning forward to spin the bottle with a swift flick of her fingers. It slows down near you, moves to Sae – your breath catches in your throat as it inches past – and stops in front of Asa. She leans in, giving Maki a cursory peck on the lips before pulling back. They’re both laughing, and she leans into Denji, immediately murmuring an apology. He shakes his head, grinning. “I don’t mind, babe, I swear! But whose turn is it now?”

Everyone turns to look at you.

Shit.

You swallow nervously, reaching out to the bottle with one shaky hand. You don’t know why you’re this anxious. Taking a deep breath, you spin. It takes longer than you expect. You can hardly breathe – and then Sae bends his head towards yours, whispering, “Calm down, it’ll be fine.”

But it isn’t. Because as soon as the words exit his mouth, the bottle comes to a stop. And because the universe does everything it possibly can to fuck you over, it comes to a stop in front of Sae. You hastily shake your head. “It’s okay, we don’t have to–”

“What?” he interrupts. “You don’t wanna kiss me?”

“It’s not that,” an angry flush spreads across your cheeks, and your hands ball up into tight fists. “Okay, I’ll do it.”

“Make it ten seconds at least, this time!” Someone cheers, but you’re only looking at Sae. You turn towards him, and just like that, you and Sae share your second kiss together. He’s obviously much more experienced than you, tilting your head up with one hand to get a better angle. His lips are chapped, but still soft. It feels… nice. You almost wish you were dating him. But when you finally relax, almost starting to enjoy it, he pulls back. “See? It wasn’t that bad.”

You nod, flustered, still trying to compose yourself. “ Yeah, it was okay.”

“I think I’m cursed,” you complain to Asa and Maki in the girls’ toilets where you’ve taken refuge to touch up your makeup. “He was my first kiss, and my second one too. Next you’ll see him being the third one too!”

Asa giggles. “Ooh, I hope so!”

“Maybe he’s secretly in love with you, you never know,” interjects Maki, but you shake your head sadly. She rolls her eyes, closing the tube of mascara. “Stop acting like a pathetic puppy,” she chides. “It’s okayyyyy.”

You don’t answer, busy swiping the applicator of your lipgloss across your lips. 

“Um, I think I gotta pee, you guys go back without me,” you say. Your voice is too loud, too high-pitched. It’s obvious that you have other reasons for wanting to come out later. There’s an awkward silence, and you’re not quite sure what to expect. Will they refuse and Call you out? Anxiety bubbles up inside you. But Asa and Maki are your best friends, after all. You can see in their eyes that they don’t buy it at all – they pretend to, though, and leave you alone in the restrooms to rot alone with your thoughts.

 When you finally get the guts to exit the toilet, you find yourself standing behind Asa. She’s asking Sae how much longer the two of you will be staying, and hasn’t seemed to notice you behind her yet. Sae does, though, raising one perfect brow ever so slightly. Asa continues talking, unaware of the silent conversation going on between the two of you. Sae tilts his head to one side, as if asking a question; you shake your head vehemently in return, hoping he understands what you’re trying to convey. 

“We’ll get going as soon as y/n comes back,” says Sae. You breathe a sigh of relief; how could you possibly have doubted him? He’s known you since you were what, five years old – longer than anyone else in the room, even Maki and Asa.

“But it’s barely eight,” Asa argues, but he shakes his head.

“Her parents said eight thirty tops,” he shrugs. Sae is an impeccable liar. Before Asa can say anything else, you interrupt them.

“ Sae, we gotta go.”

“Yeah,” he says. “See? Later, Asa.”

“Bye Asa!”

She waves goodbye as the two of you leave the gym. 

The school looks completely different at night, dimly lit with countless locked doors on either side of you, and it doesn’t take long for the two of you to get lost. Sae watches you standing uneasily by a window, face lit up almost ethereally by the moonlight that’s streaming in. You don’t notice him staring as you gaze distractedly out of the window silently. You really are pretty.

He doesn’t realize when he walks over to stand beside you wordlessly. You tear your eyes away from the world outside and turn to him. “You need anything?”

He shakes his head. “Not really.”

His voice is lower than usual, barely above a whisper, and suddenly the air is thick with tension. He hears you breathe in, sharp and fast, as your gaze flickers from his eyes, to his lips, then back to his eyes again. He can’t blame you, not when he’s doing the same thing. Sae takes a single carefully calculated step forward, and before he can move another muscle, you step forward too, grabbing the lapels of his jacket and pulling him down to kiss him. He’s startled at your boldness – he hadn’t expected you to initiate anything – but it’s a nice surprise. It takes a moment for him to regain his senses before he kisses you back with equal fervor, large hands coming up to cradle your face. He feels you sigh softly into his mouth, fists tightening around the fabric of his jacket. What had Asa mentioned again– oh. So this is your first real kiss – not one that’s part of a game, not one that’s being used to just prove a point. Your stupid strawberry lipgloss smears across your mouth and his, and it tastes good, and you taste good, and so what if a tiny part of him doesn’t want this to ever end?

But then the two of you separate, and you’re probably the most beautiful girl he’s seen in his entire life. You’re panting slightly from the lack of  oxygen, chest heaving gently. Your lips are parted a little, slick with a mix of lipgloss and saliva, and you’re watching him with widened eyes. He’s not sure what to do now, but suddenly you take a step back, and then another, and another. You shake your head. “This was a mistake, Sae. I’m not gonna become another one of your disposable girlfriends.”

Sae doesn’t know what to say. In fact, he doesn’t even have anything to say at all. No excuses, no defenses. You are probably right after all. Though he may be an expert at starting relationships, he certainly fails to keep them alive – not that he cares to, in the first place. And soccer is always more important anyways. So he stays silent, watching you hurry away into the dark.

He hopes you won’t get lost this time.

School starts a week later, a day after your sixteenth birthday. You’re almost relieved to see that Sae has gone back to ignoring you. [he hasn’t wished you a happy birthday.] You play it off to your friends as him just being busy again, but you know that’s not true. And he already has another girl hanging off his arm again, and although you’re unsurprised, it still hurts after that night, when he’d kissed you like you actually meant something to him. You know you don’t, though. Not in the way other things matter to him – soccer, for example. Or getting girls.

It’s painful to even look at him now; it’s annoying how fast your views of him have changed. It also doesn’t help that he glances towards you every now and then. Whatever, you think. Fuck him. You need to focus on your classwork instead. Or more specifically, the project that’ll make up a significant portion of your grade and act as a replacement for your finals. Unfortunately for you, it’s a partnered project, meaning you won’t be able to work as efficiently – you’re in your element when you’re working alone. Half the class has already been paired up by the time your name is called. You scan the remaining people for Asa or Maki, hoping you get one of them as a partner, but your peace is shattered as your teacher calls out a name that you’ve grown to dislike, no, fear over the past week. “Sae Itoshi!”

Sae’s face is painfully neutral, betraying absolutely no emotion. You don’t know whether he even cares about this – he probably doesn’t – but it’s still an important project, so all you can do is suck it up and work. He walks up to you, face still annoyingly blank. “You have my number, right?”

What happened to hello? How are you? You nod anyways, unsure of what he wants.

“Call me then,” he says flatly. “I’ll do whatever as long as you arrange the time and place.”

What a bitch. You want to slap him.

“Okay.” 

It’s not okay.

Every time you’re even near him, all you can think of is his lips on yours; the feel of his hands on your waist, your face. You don’t want anything to do with him, let alone spend the next two weeks working on this stupid project with him.

That night, you scream at yourself in the mirror. Why can’t you just be normal? These things happen, it’s not a big deal. You spend half an hour pacing around the bathroom, raving to yourself like a madman. It takes another hour before you calm down enough to be able to text him.

You: hey

You: this is y/n btw

Sae: ok

You: you told me to arrange everything 

Sae: yea

You: i’m free tmr after school. At like 3

Sae: i have practice

You: dude skip out on practice once nothing will happen

Sae: no

y/n: ur literally a prodigy..

Sae: and?

y/n: okay yk what?

y/n: you set everything up then idc

Sae: wtf okay

Sae: 3pms okay

Sae: your place or mine

The first time the two of you meet up, time passes slowly but uneventfully. It’s at your house; the two of you have decided to alternate until the project is done. It doesn’t really matter, though, considering how close you live to each other It takes you almost six hours to perfect the outline, and you’re fucking exhausted by the end of the day. Even Sae doesn’t have any energy in him to spit out any witty remarks until he’s leaving. He shoves his things into his backpack messily. Usually, everything that belongs to him is neat and immaculate, so this goes to show just how much the day has worn him out. But it appears to have reduced the tension between you two as well. [Not that you care.] At the door, he turns back to you. “Fuck you for choosing the most complicated topic just for some extra credit,” he grumbles.

You scoff, even though you know he’s not being serious. 

“Fuck you too, Sae Itoshi.” you call.

He raises up one hand to flip you off behind him as he walks off. 

You think you hear him laugh.

The second day of the project is spent at Sae’s place. It’s a Saturday, and he forces you to wake up nice and early so the two of you can start working on the project as fast as possible. 

“The faster we start, the faster we finish,” he says. 

Sae is infinitely more comfortable in his own house, body draped over one of the many sofas in the living room as he types on his laptop. You’re sitting on the floor, on top of a large piece of paper that you’re decorating. This project is such a pain in the ass. The air conditioner is on full blast, but for some reason you’re still feeling kind of feverish. Sae, on the other hand, seems to be living his best life in a tight black t-shirt and light gray sweats that hang annoyingly low on his hips – it’s a simple yet devastatingly distracting outfit, and you can barely focus.

Sooner or later, the two of you find yourselves in the kitchen looking for something to eat. Sae bends down to rifle through the fridge while you seat yourself on one of the high stools around the kitchen counter. Your legs hang in the air, and suddenly you feel very small. But more and more loud noises come from the fridge as Sae curses and throws an empty box behind him; you take this moment to shamelessly ogle his turned back. He straightens up again a moment later, and you rip your eyes away and look down at the counter. Just in time too, because he turns around, slamming the door shut. 

“That little shit Rin finished everything good here,” he grumbles, stretching. You have to force yourself to look away from him and the way his shirt rides up to reveal perfectly sculpted abs. He turns to one of the cabinets instead, pulling out a container instead. Opening it up, he sticks one hand inside, pulling out a chocolate chip cookie. Then he holds it out to you. “Want some?”

You nod in assent.

Sae finishes eating before you, but he doesn’t leave the kitchen as you steadily work through the pile of cookies on your plate. It’s not exactly awkward, but he’s slouched against the marble of the kitchen counter, chin resting on one hand as he watches you eat. His pretty teal gaze follows your every movement, yet his face remains completely passive.

You help him wash up after you finish, even though there’s not a lot to clean. But then, as you turn around to leave the kitchen, Sae moves too, and suddenly you’re standing with your front all but pressed up against his. You move to one side to give him space to pass, but apparently he has the same idea at the exact same time. You move to the other side, and so does he. The double coincidence makes you giggle, and pulls a chuckle from him too. But the atmosphere shifts in a way that’s all too familiar, and the pit in your stomach reopens, and you swallow, looking up at Sae. He stares back at you, nonchalant, and before you can say anything or get yourself out of this situation, he speaks. “I want to kiss you again.”

His voice is controlled, toneless. But his eyes, the ones you’ve known for over nine years right now, betray his true feelings. He’s really not as unbothered as he’s trying to appear; a steady fire of something you can’t identify burns in his eyes.

You want to say no. You know that’s the smarter option here. You know you’ll only get hurt more if you let it – or whatever this is – continue like this. The path that you’re walking is already doomed, you can see where the road ends, fades into nothing but pain and suffering. But you’re young, and you’re stupid. And you like Sae Itoshi way more than you should. So you shrug. “Sure.”

Sae cups your face with one hand, adjusting your positioning slightly before he leans down to kiss you. This time, along with the anxiety, there’s also something in you that yearns and yearns. The second or two before Sae kisses you feels like an hour at the least; something almost akin to relief floods through your veins when he finally does. 

It’s as if your world shifts as he kisses you again, slow and languid. Or at least, that’s how it starts. In a matter of seconds it turns into something more zealous, all tongue and teeth. Your hands instinctively fly up to tangle into his messy hair as he picks you up effortlessly with one hand and places you atop the kitchen counter. You gasp into his mouth in surprise at the sudden movement, and it draws a low chuckle from him before he pulls away infinitesimally. You’re confused; is it ending already? You don’t want it to end. And it’s as if Sae reads your mind.

“Calm down, pretty,” he pants, eyes wide and pupils blown out. He smirks against your lips, smug, confident. “It’s just a breather, I’ll kiss you again, don’t worry.”

You roll your eyes, and Sae kisses you again; you can feel the way his lips curve up. He feels you loop your arms around his neck, somehow pulling him even closer to you, and he maneuvers one of your legs so it’s hooked around his hip. You seem to get the message, wrapping your legs around his waist. Sae hums into your mouth in approval, dragging a thumb across your cheekbone slowly, lips still against yours. He knows all of this is still more or less new to you, considering the fact that everything you’ve experienced has been with Sae, but it’s obvious that you’re growing more and more used to it by the second. 

He doesn’t taste the lipgloss this time; he almost misses it – both the taste, and the way it smudges across your lips so prettily.

The taste of him intoxicates you, leaving you in a drunken stupor where he’s the only thing you can focus on. His every touch leaves a trail of fire in its wake across your body. 

But heaven on earth always comes to an end, one way or the other. You’re both oh-so wrapped up in everything going on when Sae suddenly pulls away. You lean back from him, confused. “Sae, what’s wrong?”

“Just, just gimme a sec,” he rasps. His voice is low, husky from the kissing, and he’s somewhat short of breath. “I’m not looking for a relationship or anything. I don’t know why I did it, I broke up with Kaori like a week ago.”

“I know,” you reply matter-of-factly. “Like I give a fuck.”

And then you kiss him again.

The sound of his phone ringing interrupts the two of you, and you both turn your heads to look at it simultaneously. It’s an unknown number; he cuts the call, cursing, and turns back to you. But your eyes are widened in disbelief as you stare at the clock on his lockscreen. “Sae, it’s been almost an hour since we came here!”

“No way,” he says. There’s a note of mild surprise in his voice as he checks for himself.

“We have to get back to work,” you tell him.

“Whatever, five more minutes?”

You shake your head, finally leaving the kitchen. Now that the haze you’d been lost in has finally cleared, the magnitude of just how badly you’ve fucked all this up has begun to really sink in. Sae is much more composed than you – like he didn’t just spend the last thirty-ish minutes making out with you on his kitchen counter.

The two sides of you are fighting, clawing, tearing each other apart. One side wraps around you protectively, trying to keep your heart safe. To keep you safe. Stay away from him, it screams. You’ll only get hurt. The other side wants him – wants him so badly. He has you addicted with a singular touch; your body needs this, craves him.

And you hate how he’s perfectly fine about all this.

Spoiler alert: he isn’t. Although his face doesn’t betray it, he has been thinking.

That evening, before you leave, he asks you a question.

“What are we?”

You pause. “You said you’re not, y’know…”

“Yeah.” he’s selfish; he knows that you’re into him at least a little bit. [or a lot, considering how the last few days have been.] “What do you wanna do?”

This is the last moment you can turn back, save yourself. But you only live once, right? Might as well do it for the plot. “We can keep it like this, I don’t mind.”

Sae watches you touch up your makeup before you leave. You work calm and methodically – mascara, lipstick, that damned strawberry lipgloss. “y/n.”

You move your gaze from your compact mirror to him. Damn, you’re pretty. “What?”

“Kiss me,” he says, from the couch.

You don’t say no as you take your shoes off again.

You reapply your lipgloss again half an hour later, on the way home.

 The project is completed much earlier than expected. If you’re being honest, though, you should have expected this, considering the two of you spend most of every day at each others’ places now anyways. You’ve always hated having rich, absent parents, but it doesn’t seem half as bad now. Not when Sae’s hand sits so comfortably on your waist, chin resting atop yours as he takes a photo of the finished piece. It’s like you’re two puzzle pieces that fit together perfectly, that are meant to be. You wish it was meant to be.

You and Sae have been pretty good at keeping things under wraps, especially when you can barely keep your hands off each other. Ever since you okayed the relationship-not-relationship, it’s as if things have automatically upped a notch. And even then, you barely text, unless it’s about meeting up in secluded corners and empty parking lots, where Sae kisses you silly, until you can’t breathe and his sharp teal gaze is unfocused and glazed over. Sae chases you the way he chases every goal on the field, focused on you and only you, ruthless, mindless of everyone else until he has you right where he wants you, with unbuttoned shirts and loosened ties and roaming hands that grab collars and venture daringly underneath clothes without ever crossing that invisible line. In the past few weeks, for example, you’ve felt up Sae’s abs way more than you’re going to admit; you’ve lost count by now anyways, but you know you’d never go farther. [you never started.]

When Sae Itoshi truly puts his mind to it, he is an emphatic lover. Between days of stolen kisses and fleeting touches and nights where you sneak out to meet him like he’s your boyfriend, time passes fast. Your favorite drink sits at one corner of your desk every day at school, and sometimes people ask if you’re dating someone. You shake your head no, but it still is a pleasant surprise every day, you tell people. It’s most definitely not Sae, especially when he’s slightly late to school every day after his early morning soccer practice.

In his own classroom down the hall, Rin’s lips quirk up into a subtle smile.

Sixteen turns into seventeen in the blink of an eye.

Sae’s slowly becoming more and more busy with soccer, and it’s not like you aren’t busy either. You barely see him now, except at schools and parties, both of which are less than ideal, considering the nature of your relationship. This doesn’t deter Sae, however, and you often find yourselves in empty rooms or the like, risking it all for a few kisses.

And then there’s the matter of his girlfriends. Because whether you like it or not, Sae has begun to date girls every now and then. They’re not serious relationships, just stupid flings that last a month or two. He never brings them up to you, and you never mention them either, unless you’re asking whether he’s done with them. He doesn’t tell you when exactly he starts dating someone new, but it’s obvious from how he pulls back and stops texting you at all. And then you see a new girl hanging off his arm at every party, and of course you’re jealous. Why wouldn’t you be? After all, it’s been five years since the first spark of anything you’ve felt for him came alive. 

You’re the one constant in his life, though, other than soccer. Every time he’s done with another girlfriend, he comes straight back to you. Or you go back to him.

Sae: come over?

Sae: yeah yeah im done w her dont worry

y/n: okay

You never refuse him, overpowered by greed, trying to get as much of him to yourself as you can. 

“Hey,” he greets you. His lips are already on yours before he’s closing the door. You don’t respond – how can you, given your position – but you smile into the kiss all the same. Sae is the closest you’ve ever had to a boyfriend. You have no interest in anyone outside him anyways. His parents are rarely home, and so are yours, so you often end up spending nights at each others’ places. It’s nothing sexual; you’d just rather not be alone. There’s a drawer of Sae’s things in your room, and he knows – and you know he knows – that you wear them occasionally. You always deny it, but he encourages it with a sly smile. “Better you than anyone else,” he says. It makes you feel special. Even his girlfriends don’t get that treatment. But that’s before you sleep over at Sae’s. Once you start staying over, his clothes are basically at your disposal. You steal his button ups, his t-shirts, his shorts. And the best part is, he doesn’t mind in the slightest. All he does is grin at you lazily while he shamelessly checks you out. “You look good, pretty girl.”

He laughs at the way the pet name startles you.

Seventeen is also when your life falls apart.

Sae shows up unannounced one night at your door, with a bouquet, a gift bag and an envelope. You haven’t seen him in a while. He’s been busy with some sort of tryouts, you’re not really sure. He hands the bag and flowers to you watching you toss the bouquet onto a couch and turn to the bag. You take out a small velvet box. It looks expensive. Inside, there’s a simple gold necklace with a heart-shaped locket. Your eyes widen. “Sae, what is this? How much did it–”

“Don’t worry about it,” he says. His usually dispassionate face seems almost sad. “Just a present for my favorite girl.”

Sae has never been a verbal person with you. In the last two years, he’s only ever made his thoughts clear through his actions – never his words. This is new, and for some reason, it scares you. “But why?”

“It’s my way of saying goodbye,” he admits. Your heart drops. 

“What?”

He hands you the envelope next, and your eyes frantically skim through the document until you finish; he’s been chosen to go to Spain and train under that one soccer team he’s always talked about. You look up with wide eyes. “Sae, I’m so happy for you!”

He smiles, albeit melancholically. “I knew you’d be. But there’s also… us.”

You’re confused. “Huh? Us?”

He nods. “Whatever we’re doing right now – I can’t continue it. Not like this, over texts, with the time difference and everything. You know what I mean?”

“Yeah, I do.” Your heart shatters into a million pieces, but you don’t want to feel any of this. Because even though you’re losing him right now, he was never yours in the first place – and you were never his. And you’d known this from the start; anticipated it even. There’d been a small part of you that had hoped, of course, that things would go a different route, but it had been set in stone all along. You take a deep breath. “Okay, Sae Itoshi, what do you wanna do?”

The corners of his lips twitch at the use of his full name, even as he tries to remain serious. “I don’t know, y/n l/n, what do I wanna do?”

Stuffing the envelope back into his hoodie pocket, he cradles your face softly with both hands, like you’re fragile. Weird. He’s never done anything like this, especially not almost-in-public. He’s always been careful, trying not to get caught. And he has kept this hidden for almost two years now, so you can’t exactly complain. You grab his wrists with both of your hands, pulling him into your house. You lock the door carefully, but you don’t notice the girl at the corner of the street. The one with a wicked little smile on her face, as she clicks yet another incriminating picture of you and Sae, damning evidence of the stupid not-relationship the two of you have kept hidden for so long.

“Do me,” you snicker as soon as you make sure the door is locked. It’s not your usual humor, not with Sae, anyways, but you’re too absorbed in your thoughts, trying to hide the intense pain you’re feeling right now. You hope it doesn’t show on your face.

Sae raises one eyebrow, arms crossed in front of him. “Come again?”

“Nothing,” you say. “C’mere, help me put this on.”

He follows you to your room like a sad puppy, waiting silently as you turn the lights on and stand in front of the mirror. He takes the necklace from your hands, fastening it around your neck. You fix the positioning of the locket; the metal is cool against your skin that’s heated up from the brush of his fingers on the nape of your neck. Your eyes meet his in the mirror, and the silence is strained, awkward even, unlike anything you’ve experienced with him before.

“So, when are you leaving?” you ask him.

“Tomorrow.”

Oh. So that’s why it’s goodbye. Of course. [You want to die.] Instead, you turn to him, hoping your face doesn’t betray your emotions. “How long are you staying here?”

“How long do you want me to?”

“When’s your flight?”

“Stop asking me questions,” he huffs. “Eight, I think.”

You open your mouth to ask another question.

“AM, eight in the morning,” he says, hands raised in surrender. “Now will you stop?”

“Let’s watch a movie,” you tell him, ignoring the second statement. “Then you can go home, I guess.”

“You guess? What, you wanna keep me here forever?” he means it as a joke, but you hum in agreement. 

“Sure.”

He pulls one of your drawers open, taking out two sets of clothing. He chucks one at you with a grin. “Go change, stupid. Get comfortable.”

“Oh,” you say. “You have to take all this back, right?”

“Nah,” he responds carelessly. “I don’t. Keep ‘em, throw ‘em out for all I care.”

You change in the bathroom, giving him space to do the same in your room. But when you come out after giving him sufficient time to finish – he’s always been quick in every way – he hasn’t changed, standing with his back to you while talking on the phone in only his boxers. You wait for him to finish, patiently staring at his back until he finishes. He notices your presence almost as soon as the call ends, turning around to face you. “What?”

“Nice ass, Itoshi,” you grin.

He narrows his eyes at you. “For real, y/n?”

You don’t answer, instead busying yourself with fixing up your bed while he gets dressed. When your bed looks okay enough for your [arguably low] standards, you turn back to Sae, who’s still very much shirtless. He holds his t-shirt in front of him, staring at it skeptically. 

“The fuck, Sae? Put your clothes on!”

“It’s hot tonight,” he complains. “Can’t I go without?”

In all those nights of staying over, he’s never done that before. If it had been anyone else you’d probably have said no. But it is Sae asking, and when have you ever said no to him? You make a show of thinking it over, but your mind has already said yes.

You start off at separate sides of the bed – you always do. This time, though, you don’t really concentrate on the movie as much as you should. Sneaking looks at Sae Itoshi’s lean, yet defined and extremely attractive body is much more fun anyways. When you’re about halfway through the stupid, sappy rom-com you’re watching, you feel a strong pair of arms wrap around your middle before Sae pulls you into himself. Your terrified shriek turns into a groan as you turn over to smack him in annoyance. “Maybe ask next time!”

Sae shakes his head, burying his face in your hair. Humming appreciatively, he pulls the hem of your [his] loose t-shirt up just enough to be able to wrap his arms around your bare middle. He turns back to the movie, but you’re stuck in contemplative thought. This is all new; he’s never actively done anything like it during any of your countless movie nights – if they can even be called that, considering the majority of them are interrupted by him initiating something or vice versa – and he’s always waited for the two of you to slowly come closer to each other rather than pull you to him, like tonight. He’s acting like what you'd expect a real boyfriend to act like, and suddenly your insides lurch, and once again the gravity of the situation hits you.

You’ve never really minded being Sae’s little secret, someone he comes back to when he’s tired of school and soccer and his girlfriends. It makes you feel like you’re kind of a safe space for him, where he’s not afraid to be soft or tired or imperfect. Of course, he’ll always be perfect in your eyes, anyways. But it hurts like hell now, when he acts like he’s yours, buying you expensive shit, calling you his favorite girl – who even does that? You’re already thinking of giving the necklace away, because how can you live with something like it, when he’s the one giving it to you, his “favorite girl”, when he’s not even your boyfriend. And even then, you’ve managed to somehow fall in love with him. 

It’s so fucked – you’re so fucked.

Sae seems oblivious to your troubled thoughts, hands busied with toying with your necklace. 

“This looks pretty on you,” he murmurs, and you want to throw up. You can’t take it anymore; you want to forget it, forget him, forget every compliment that he’s handed you today like some sort of indirect apology. Another second of all this, and you might just cry. You need him to shut the fuck up, and the easiest way to do that is–

“Sae, wanna make out?”

He never says no to you, either.

Sae leaves like a shadow in the night; he kisses you goodbye and whispers something that sounds suspiciously like “I’msorryIloveyou” before he pulls away. But he’s Sae, he would never say that. And even while breaking your heart into pieces with his bare hands, slow and deliberate, he still has the audacity to look so devastatingly beautiful while doing it. And you still can’t hate him. You don’t think you’ll ever be able to. It’s maybe two in the morning when you stand at the door waiting for him to leave – you’re not sure because one moment you’re falling asleep, and the next he’s waking you up, cursing, running late. He still needs to pack half his stuff. You’re startled out of your sleep when you hear that; is he fucking stupid? Who leaves that for the last few hours?

But you digress.

You haven’t bothered to turn the lights on, knowing that you'll probably just go back to bed and cry. Maybe grab some ice cream from the kitchen on your way. Not that it matters. Sae’s changed back into his normal clothes again. He looks like he’s about to say something, but then he stops. Stepping out of your house for the last time in who knows when, he turns back. You both speak at the same time.

“y/n.”

“Sae.”

“You go first,” he says.

“How long will you be, um, gone?” you ask. You’re aware your voice is shaky. Your lower lip trembles, and you bite down on it to stop. You’re going to cry – you don’t want to, not in front of him.

“Two years,” he replies sheepishly. “Give or take.”

Two– 

“I won’t have my phone, or anything,” he continues, unprompted. “So…”

“Yeah, I get it,” you say. 

“Yeah.”

“What were you gonna say?” you ask. You’d almost forgotten.

“Oh,” he seems shy, all of a sudden. The cocky, confident, arrogant, brash Sae Itoshi, acting like this in front of you? Something’s definitely up. “Oh.”

“Hm?”

“I’ll miss you,” he says at last. 

He watches your face carefully: the way it moves, the way your expression changes, the way the tiniest spasm of pain flits across it before it goes back to whatever facade you’ve been maintaining carefully ever since he came over today. You don’t say anything back, but god you’re beautiful. Even in your [his] ugly, oversized clothes and with your messy hair, you look absolutely enchanting, angelic features illuminated by the silvery moonlight. Suddenly he’s transported back to a certain evening almost two years ago, with you in a shimmery blue dress, standing by a window. You in that same blue dress, kissing him like your life depended on it. You–

“You should go,” you say shakily. I’ll miss you too, Sae. So much. You don’t even know.

“I should.”  He doesn’t want to. 

[You don’t see Sae Itoshi again until you’re on a cruise ship, celebrating your nineteenth birthday.]

#blue lock #blue lock x reader #bllk fluff #bllk #bllk x reader #bllk x y/n #bllk x you #blue lock x female reader #blue lock x y/n #blue lock x you #sae itoshi x you #sae itoshi x reader #itoshi sae x reader #sae itoshi #itoshi sae #itoshi sae x you #sae x reader #sae x you #sae x y/n #reader x sae itoshi #u-20 sae itoshi #bllk x female reader #x female reader #✩ writing ! #sae itoshi fluff #sae itoshi x y/n #sae itoshi angst

[bogunicorn]

I think it says a lot about the shitty way queer people are treated that my reaction to the extremely obvious Cressida/Eloise chemistry this season is paranoia and suspicion rather than just seeing something with my eyes and trusting that that is, in fact, what I am seeing.

Cressida is obviously being set up to marry Debling to avoid being forced into a marriage set by her father, and characters won't stop reminding the audience that Debling is going to immediately disappear for years after the season and leave his wife to run his estate and live whatever life she wants while he's away. Violet has consciously given up trying to encourage Eloise to find a husband, and instead their conversations are about how Eloise needs a friend other than Cressida. They use the same language that the hetero couples use (Cressida calling Eloise not wanting her friendship earlier as "rejecting my suit," Eloise calling on Cressida the way a male suitor would, seeking each other out anytime they're at a shared function), and Cressida's father warning her to stay away from Eloise is straight out of the coming-of-age queer romances I read as a teenager. It's shot like a romance. If they went full Tipping the Velvet in ep 5, I wouldn't be at all surprised. The showrunner is also a gay man whom I would hope isn't stupid enough to be writing them like this "by accident."

It's also really clear this season that the writers have been listening to the show's reception and answering critiques in-universe. It can be a little obvious, but I don't think any of it is mockery or pandering. Violet is genuinely more helpful instead of pushing her kids into situations, Danbury and Charlotte talked about how the "season diamond" thing is Whistledown's terminology rather than the actual title of the role, Kanthony gets ep 1 spotlight and an actual explanation for why they're not around unlike Daphne and Simon, Eloise has been allowed to grow instead of being pigeonholed as the humorless obnoxious SJW. It would make sense to me that they would have also paid attention to the conversation about Benedict possibly being bisexual and realized that viewers would be accepting of and even enjoy Eloise being bisexual in the main text.

I'm getting into pure speculation here, but I also don't think thos production team expects to get the full 8 seasons. Netflix just doesn't produce dramas that go that long. My speculation is that they more or less have the greenlight for season 4 and MAYBE season 5. 4 is obviously going to be Benedict and Sophie, and my suspicion is that they have 5 earmarked for Francesca, since IIRC in her book she's a widow and s3 has her meeting her husband. They've done basically nothing with Sir Phillip and seemed to have put a bow on Marina's storyline in a way that I think would make it jarring to have them circle back to her and be like "she's dead now and this nothingburger husband is going to hook up with Eloise." They had chances, limited as they were, to have Philip make a memorable impression or have some foreshadowing between him and Eloise for the future and didn't even bother with lip service. I don't think THEY think they'll even get to Eloise's season.

Again, that's entirely speculation based on my gut feeling. But my point is that the show has put itself into a position where I think only the most diehard book fans would complain if Eloise's big love interest is a woman, and the show obviously gave up on catering to book accuracy ages ago.

#creloise #bog post #bridgerton spoilers #bridgerton

[hiskillingjar]

Could we get strade taunting MC that, after months or more of being locked up by him already, he knows no one is searching for them and barely anything was done about them being missing (maybe MC was angry and tried to bluff about it?)

Bonus: Strade comparing MC to Ren, how big of a loser both are (albeit maybe in different ways), how easy they were to fool and catch, like lost puppies waiting for the love no one gave them in the cold world out there. Now all his to do with what he wants.

Compared to being alone and having no one waiting for you it suddenly doesn't seem so bad, right?

these prompts got away from me. i'm only a human being give me a breakkkkk

3800+ words, i want two boyfriends and i want the boyfriends to be boyfriends, and i want them to kiss open-mouthed and dry hump and then they kiss me and we're dry-humping...and we're all boyfriends and girlfriends.

"What are we up to tonight, then?"

You flinched as Strade sat down next to you, a beer bottle in hand, pulling his phone out of his trouser pocket and swiping through it the second that he was comfortable.

It had been a few months since your initial capture, and even if you were struggling to settle into the imposed routine that had been forced on you, one had been set up all the same.

Wake up. Try not to die. Go to sleep

You were surviving, the best you could, and you were alive...that's all that mattered.

"Ah, not in a talking mood, are we?" Strade asked, after a period of silence. "Well, that's not unusual from you, is it? I'm sure you're feeling a bit out of sorts." He took a swig from his beer and smacked his lips in an obnoxious way that got your skin prickling. "But, hey, that's okay! I'm here to chat whenever you're ready. And if not, I guess I'll just have to entertain myself, hm?"

"Mmhmm," You murmured a non-answer, bringing your knees up to your chest and resting your chin on top of them as you kept your eyes on the television. 

"I think they're just feeling a little..." Ren started, looking up from where he was sitting on the ground, his legs crossed, his tail curled up like a stuffie in his lap, looking much younger than you despite only being a few months your junior. "Um, we just watched the news, is all. Doesn't create the best of moods."

"And what's so interesting about the news?" Strade raised a brow with a wry tilt of his head.

"Mm," Ren bit his lip, looking a little guilty as he looked away. "Um...well..."

"I'm waiting to see my missing person report," You said curtly, cutting Ren off before he had the chance to explain what the two of you were doing. 

"...Missing person report, huh?" Strade repeated, glancing curiously at you before he flashed you a devious smirk. "And I'm guessing...it hasn’t shown up, has it? That's why you're quiet?" 

Both of you were quiet then, Ren continuing to pet through his tail and your eyes locked on the TV.

You didn't want to admit to him that you hadn't found a single report of your disappearance in the months of news watching and paper clippings.

Not even one.

The bloated (and deeply subtextual) silence caused Strade to chuckle, that mischievous grin only widening on his lips as he took another long swig from his beer bottle and put his phone away, letting out a content sigh afterwards as he wiped beer froth from his upper lip.

"Ah, well, I'm not surprised there hasn't been any word about it yet." He said, talking almost casually, like he was discussing the weather. "And yet, you've been here for a little while already, haven't you? And yet, nothing has come up...isn't that a shame~"

"T-They don't stop searching for a while," Ren said quickly, sitting up and doing his best to be reassuring, shooting you a sympathetic smile. You didn't doubt that he had been through something similar during his initial months of capture, so he was probably speaking from a degree of experience. "And maybe we're watching local news...it could be more widespread, you know."

"Mm..." You murmured, crossing your arms over your knees and giving Ren a slight, appreciative smile. "Maybe."

"Ah, Ren, ever the optimist, eh?" 

Strade laughed again around the rim of his beer bottle, before he glanced back towards you again, flashing a doubtful, but (almost) sympathetic smile.

"Who knows? Maybe you're right, but," He clicked his tongue, his eyes going upwards thoughtfully "Knowing police, they might just wait a little while before giving up on the search altogether, especially if the person in question has been missing for a few months already. Pigs are..." He looked back towards you with another chuckle, a darker look in his eyes. "Lazy by nature, ja?"

"Mm..." Ren's ears tilted downwards, matching his defeated look as his gaze went back to his lap. He didn't have the energy to argue with his master, it seemed. "I mean...I'm sure it'll be okay..."

"Ah, I never said it wouldn't be." Strade replied with a wide shrug. "I'm just reminding the two of you, that if there really is no news coverage of your disappearance..." He laughed again, his eyes gleaming with sadistic excitement that was so characteristic of him when he was in this…teasing kind of mood. "Then that means I get to keep you here for just a little bit longer, doesn't it?"

You could tell that Ren was probably blushing as much as you were, even with your face pressed into your crossed arms and knees, doing your best to hide yourself.

You wouldn't give Strade the satisfaction of beating you down so quickly, though.

"S-Sure," You mumbled, crossing your arms a little tighter and hiding your face. "Whatever you say..."

"Tch, you're such a sourpuss," Strade rolled his eyes and finished off the last of his beer, setting the glass bottle down on the ground before he leaned closer to you on the sofa. "You can't expect that someone is going to come looking for you now, do you? It's been months and months...and, well," He paused for a moment, placing a hand on your bare shoulder. "Let's be honest, you probably weren't worth searching for anyway."

"Strade," Ren murmured from the side, his brows furrowed as he stared up at the two of you. "Come on..."

"What? I'm being honest, aren't I?" Strade asked with a chuckle, that little smirk still plastered on his lips as he looked over at Ren before turning his gaze back to you. "They're a little bit like you, in that way, Ren. No friends, no family..." His hand descended your arm as he spoke, his calloused thumb tracing over your healing scars, searching for a reaction from you. "And they certainly don't seem like they had a very interesting life anyway...so why would anyone care about them? 

He paused, his eyes going back to Ren.

"About either of you. That’s kind of what you get for being such,” He laughed, shaking his head. “Ah, shut-ins, right?"

The two of you were quiet again, soaking in the truth of his statement but not rising to it, and when you glanced his way, you could see that Strade was looking thoughtful for a second. 

Like he has expected some kind of reaction from you, and hadn't gotten what he wanted.

"Hm..." He hummed, taking his hand from your arm and letting it rest on your knee. "But...maybe I was being a bit too harsh, hm? Because I do care about you two...in a way."

A more casual smile came to his face as he rubbed your thigh, switching his gaze between the two of you.

"After all...you are my playthings~"

"Don't talk about me like that," You snapped back curtly, placing your legs flat on the sofa and your hands by your sides in protest. Your biting remark earned a warning look from Ren, narrowed eyes, his ears tilted forward in alarm and caution. 

He had gone through this before, of course, and knew when to duck his head and play 'the good boy' for his master.

"Ah, such a strong sense of self, hm?" Strade asked with a barked chuckle, squeezing your thigh firmly and leaning in even closer to your body, his smile sick and toothy. "Too bad you don't have the strength or the freedom to act on that feisty attitude, isn't it, liebling?" 

Despite being so close to you, Strade's eyes then went back to Ren sitting on the ground, shaking his head as he gave him an almost pitying and soft look...appealing to all of Ren's sweeter sensibilities.

"Unlike this one...my obedient little pet..."

Predictably, Ren's expression turned a little softer as he crawled closer to the sofa, searching and keening up for Strade's free hand as it pressed through his hair and pet the space behind his ears, the space he liked to be pet. 

Always 'the good boy' when Strade was nice enough with him...patient enough.

He was easy like that.

Your expression screwed up in annoyance as you watched the two of them, as you watched Ren climb up on the sofa and nuzzle up to his captor with a wagging tail, feeling almost a sense of betrayal as a result of your fellow captive's softness. Like he was giving you expectations to live up to, if you wanted to earn Strade’s fleeting kindness.

"Ah, I think someone's getting a little jealous~" Strade teased, catching sight of your expression, his hand descending down the back of Ren's shorts as he pulled the younger man closer to his body. "Ah, but don't worry, fraulein...I have plenty of love for both of my precious toys, hm?" 

"I'm not your toy," You murmured hotly, your face flushing as you averted your eyes, all while Ren started to rub against his captor, the sticky tip of his cock peering over the waistband of his shorts.

So fucking easy.

"Ah, is that so?" Strade asked with a little growl, as the hand in Ren's shorts slid to the front and he started to palm and grope at his cock, making Ren all the more desperate for him. "I think the lady protests too much..."

He then reached over and roughly grabbed your chin with his free hand, forcing your eyes together and your body closer to his and Ren's.

"Mm!" You grunted as he forced you forward, your eyes squeezing shut as you shoved a hand against his chest and tried to push yourself away. 

He was stronger than you, though, always would be, and held you firmly in place.

"Then what exactly is it that you think you are, hm?" His voice lowered as he pulled your face closer to his, his lips almost (almost) tracing over your cheek. "Because I'm pretty damn sure I said it earlier...you and him, are both just little toys for me to play around with~"

"Mm..." You let out a low grunt, your eyes fluttering open when he kissed you (really kissed you!) on the cheek, as you gave him a defiant look.

It was all you could do. 

You couldn’t fight him, or argue with him in any meaningful way. This was all you had, now.

Petty defiance.

That just caused Strade to laugh again, still keeping his grip on your chin as he looked deeply into your eyes, clearly unphased by your little show of defiance but...maybe a little impressed that it had persisted this far.

"Such a determined, little toy...even though you know damn well that you're powerless."

He then let out a little sigh, feeling as Ren pressed his body against his side and rubbed his cock against his hip, whimpering and moaning for his attention. 

His grip on you lightened up a little, as he gave you a (handsome) smile, reminding you of the charming stranger who chatted to a lonely soul in a shady bar, and not the man who he really was.

"But, I'll admit...I find that defiant look in your eyes to be, ah," He chuckled again and gave Ren's cock a firm squeeze. "Kind of sexy. You little spitfire, you..."

"Fuck you," You said, though the bite behind the words was lacking its usual venom.

You didn't want to get punished, at least in any significant way. 

Your recent cuts had barely started healing, after all.

"Ah, such rude language...such a bad, little toy."

Strade let out a condescending tut, shaking his head and suddenly giving your cheek a firm, hard *SLAP*, once, twice, three times, with the hand not holding your chin (making Ren immediately jump backwards against the sofa, his eyes wide and his ears up and alert).

"AH!" You yelped after each slap, your head jerking to the side, burning red from the harsh contact. 

"Do I need to remind you about what happens when you misbehave like this?" He asked firmly, running a knuckle down your blazing cheek as he brought his lips close to your ear, his voice low, almost dangerous. "Because you're on the verge of getting punished now...and I know you really don’t want to be punished, do you, fraulein?"

"N...No..." You murmured, looking back towards him, tears threatening to streak down your cheeks and your expression thoroughly defeated. "I won't...misbehave. I’m sorry, I’ll be good."

"Good..." Strade purred with a smug look of satisfaction, seeming pleased with your docile response as he stroked your cheek a little more fondly. "Good girl. That's what I want to hear."

"Mm..." You hummed with subdued pleasure, willing yourself not to keen into the soft touch.

You wouldn't, you couldn't do that to yourself...could you?

Predictably, Ren slowly slinked back towards Strade once he was done with you, his small form pressing against his broad back as his tail wagged slowly, side to side. 

It seemed, despite (or maybe because of) your abuse, Ren wanted his master's attention.

You were a little offended by his total lack of loyalty, but more than that, you felt your core start to throb at the realisation, watching Ren's sleepy desire melt away as he waited for that desire to be given from his master.

You couldn’t be sure that you wouldn’t get a little turned on yourself, if you watched Strade beat Ren into submission.

What was loyalty here, anyway?

Strade naturally took notice of Ren’s need for attention, pulling one hand away from your face to reach over to his, pushing thick fingers through his soft hair and idly scratching his scalp again, like he was stroking a beloved pet in his lap.

"Ah, let me guess," He murmured with a knowing smirk and a subtle click of his tongue. "You want me to pay attention to you now, don't you, fuchs?"

"Yes," Ren nodded, not even a little guilty, it seemed, as he pressed closer to him, his tail wagging even more at the offer. "Please, please pay attention to me."

"Such a needy little thing," Strade chuckled, his voice almost a coo as his gaze switched between the two of you, a dark, lustful look of realisation coming to his face as he thought of what to do next. "Here's an idea...how about you two play together for a while, hm?"

"Huh?" Ren blinked golden eyes at his captor, before looking towards you, his cheeks almost as red as yours, (in spite of not having the same abuse thrown towards him, this time around).

"You heard me, Ren," Strade asserted firmly, taking a firmer grip on your chin and pulling you inwards, towards their tangled bodies. "Play together." 

You gave them both another defiant look, but, for whatever reason, didn't pull back as Strade pulled you in towards Ren and forced your faces together, initiating a (not wholly) non-consenting kiss.

"Mmph," You groaned, trying to turn your face away, but Strade's grip was stronger than your will to fight, and Ren's subservience kept his body tethered in space.

You had no way of winning.

Strade chuckled, seeming almost amused by your final display of defiance (and how much it was weakening) as he forced you closer to Ren and watched as your lips connected, a characteristically sadistic gleam in his eyes, as he let out a small sigh of contentment.

"Mmm...such a beautiful sight to witness..." He sighed, taking his hand from your chin and pressing it against the front of his khakis, groping the growing hardness of his erection.

"Ahhnn…" You groaned and gasped, as Ren pressed his hands to your chest (copping a feel of your breasts beneath your tank top) and ran his tongue over your lips, deepening the kiss and making it all the more intense.

You weren't sure if he was doing this for himself or his master. You weren’t sure if the distinction mattered that much anymore.

"Mmm! Such a bold move, Ren...little pervert that you are."

Strade laughed again with an indulgent look in his eye, watching the scene play out before his waiting eyes, as he groped at his cock. Before long, though, he raised a hand back up towards you, taking a firm fistful of Ren's hair and forcing him deeper into the kiss.

“Harder. Keep going.”

Ren let out a frightened, little yip as he was pushed harder against the kiss, with that force being enough to part both of your lips for just a moment, making the sloppy exchange of tongues and saliva and spittle all the more...erotically grotesque and obvious.

"Mmm...that's right...just like that..."

You were like his own personal porno, exaggerated kisses with too much saliva and wetness, groping hands, pantomimed moans and groans to make the pleasure appear all the more real.

You knew that this was fake. 

That didn't stop your entire body from throbbing with want, though.

"Hmph..." You groaned softly as Ren hurriedly pulled up the front of your tank and started to touch your chest, hot skin and skin, the kisses only growing more erratic and exaggerated.

"Ah, so naughty..." Strade murmured approvingly, sitting up (his belt was unbuckled, and his khakis were unzipped and unbuttoned) and showing off the hard lines of his erection through his briefs. "You're making this old man feel pretty excited, you know that, fuchs...?"

His firm grip on the back of Ren's head tightened, making the younger man groan hungrily against your lips, as his other hand reached down and slipped back into the crotch of his shorts, pulling the waistband down around his swelling knot and framing his cock with elastic. The tip was bright red and sticky with oozing pre-cum, and your mouth subconsciously watered for it.

"Mm-ahhh..." Ren pulled back from the kiss with a needy little whine, drool and slobber pooling down his chin as you followed after him, leaving kitten licks against his jaw, his chin, and his neck. “Nnnh…”

Strade laughed warmly, seeming to enjoy the sight of both of you so close together, jerking his fist up and down Ren's cock and indulging himself in his needy whines, and the way his body trembled with want. You knew if Strade kept touching like this, Ren was going to cum in an instant, and you hoped (hoped, hoped) that he wouldn’t.

"Ahh, how adorable...you two look so lovely together." He let out a little huff of amusement through his nose. "Maybe it's time for me to step in too, hm?"

"Mm?" Ren glanced towards his master, his cheeks flushed as Strade leaned closer and took Ren's lips with his own.

You pulled yourself backwards and blinked as Strade and Ren began to kiss hungrily, your head growing hot and your eyes hazy at the display. 

You might have been defiant, still, you might have played the role of 'the little spitfire' that Strade was so fond of, but there was...something about this that was getting you really, really hot.

Strade's head was tilted forward completely as he pressed his thick lips firmly against Ren's, his tongue forcing its way past Ren's pale, trembling lips and creating a hard kiss, an embrace that was as suffocating as it was pleasurable for the younger man. From the way that Strade was shifting, you had a sense that his arousal was growing as quickly as Ren’s had, as he deepened the kiss even more, wanting every inch of that mouth to be throughly claimed and owned.

Pulling back from the kiss slightly, he glanced over, peering at you through eyes hazy with desire, the sadistic glee in his eyes growing more intense as he took in your own hungry expression.

"Come here, liebling," He crooned, letting go of Ren's cock (much to the younger man's chagrin) and patting his knee authoritatively. "Come here...come to me."

Without a word of defiance, you crawled towards their bodies and keened into Strade’s suffocating warmth, pressing more kisses and kitten licks against his neck, his soft, scarred jaw, his stubbly cheek.

"That's it," He praised, his golden eyes flitting shut as he let out a low groan of pleasure, tilting his head back against the sofa’s cushions. "That's a good girl, my good girl..."

His free hand slid down the back of your shorts then, kneading and groping your soft ass and pulling you closer, tethering your body to his, before he leaned forward to press hard, open-mouthed kisses against your own gasping mouth...all while Ren keened in even closer too, so close that you can feel his lips trail against yours.

"Mmm...ahh,"

The room was filled with the sound of hot, wet kisses, wet lips and tongues trailing over hot skin and flesh, teeth biting, breath heaving. The heat of the three of you all pressed together, like a grotesque sandwich of desperate hunger, was growing more intense by the second, and it was making all three of you that much more erratic.

Strade pulled you into a lip-locked kiss, his tongue slipping its way into your mouth as you felt him press his hard against your thigh, while Ren licked needily at the wet crevice between your lips, his own cock bobbing uselessly against his belly, smearing pre-cum into his skin and pubic hair. 

You did the same when Strade pulled back and kissed Ren with the same forceful hunger, rocking your cunt against his lap and leaving a damp smear of wet against his khakis, all while desperately trying to claim the kiss, as Ren had done to you.

Ren's hand slipped down the front of your shorts, probing and toying with the (frankly embarrassing) wet slick of your clit and your folds as the two of you began to kiss again, wet, hot, heaving breaths, moans and whines as you tried to push closer to him, reaching down to circle your fist around his cock, drinking in his moans as he pressed them into the kiss.

Strade's grip on both of you (his hand on your ass, the other in Ren's hair) grew tighter as he pressed both of his little playthings together, like a little kid playing too roughly with his toys, a predator fucking around with his prey. 

His body was feeling especially hot beneath yours, though, responding well as you both kissed so hungrily and desperately, his own tongue exploring, claiming, owning, both of your gasping mouths each time you took a moment to peel back from each other and breathe.

He had thoroughly crushed the defiance out of both of you, and it was intoxicating.

Strade finally pulled away, breaking the kiss between the three of you, a sinister and sadistic grin plastered on his face as he gazed down at both of you, his excitement at its peak from the show he had just witnessed.

"Mmm...I can tell that you've both finally given in to me...you're mine now, toys...and I won't let either of you get away from me."

#strade btd #ren hana #ren btd #strade x ren #strade x mc #strade x reader #ren x mc #ren x reader #qs #fics #drabbles

[ninyard]

Came here from your in universe tweets posts and have just realised you're also Irish.

What are your thoughts on Kevin Day seeming so American through and through? I personally wish Nora had given him an accent or something seeing as he was raised by his Irish single mam. Like I kinda wish there had been some cultural differences there even if it was done badly.

However I think Nora was very on point with the fact that if somebody was going to make a very violent stickball sport it would be an Irish person.

I don't know anybody IRL who's read aftg and I would love to hear somebody else's thoughts on Kevin's Irish heritage lol

I wrote these silly little hcs about Kevin’s childhood in Ireland but a lot of that is kind of dependent on Kevin having had more of a childhood in Ireland (which I don’t think happened but I haven’t got a clue what the timeline of Kayleigh being in Ireland to Kevin being born is tbh)

Personally I wish Kev was a little more Irish and I also think the Irish mammy thing would’ve had a HUGE influence on him (again depending how old he was when she died). She would’ve been his best friend if he’d grown up with her. Also the internalising of his problems is VERY typical of an Irish man but I’d like to imagine Kayleigh tried to break the cycle of that mentality in sons/first born sons and it was destroyed by the Moriyama’s.

Things I would maybe like Kevin to have/do:

- just a little bit of an accent. On certain words, or if he’s drunk or tired, or if he’s speaking with an Irish person, his accent QUADRUPLES in intensity.

- burns in the sun SO EASILY but also wears shorts when it’s barely even hot at all

- he drinks tea when it’s cold because it’s comforting and it reminds him of his mam. It’s the one indulgence he allows himself because she took her tea sweet so he heaps two teaspoons in when he feels like he needs a hug

- I’ve mentioned it before somewhere but I believe that Kayleigh was from the west, from a gaeltacht area and spoke fluent Irish, and raised Kevin to be bilingual until she passed, and he never continued and honestly probably forgot it. He remembers little words here and there but really not much at all.

- right after he graduates he spends an entire summer in Ireland before he starts with his pro team. It’s a silly decision for his exy career really because he could use all of the professional practice he can get, but he needs it. He goes back to Ireland and visits all of these places he doesn’t remember, the places where Kayleigh grew up and took kev when he was a baby. Maybe his grandparents are still alive, and his grandfather plays hurling with him, and they speak to him in Irish, and he spends the summer learning and just relaxing and reconnecting with his roots. Maybe his grandmother has a box of Kayleigh’s old things and for the first time in his life he holds something belonging to his mam other than his letter. Her jersey with her original IRE National Court number on it from the Olympics just a few years before she died, and some photos he’d never seen before. I’d really love for him to just be able to know his mam better somehow. I feel like he deserves it!!!

(He comes back with the most obnoxious Irish American accent after that summer and he gets ROASTED for it. But he doesn’t care, because he feels so much closer to his mam having spent that much time at home)

I am CERTAIN that Kayleigh was inspired to create Exy by watching hurling. There’s no way she wasn’t. Exy is the bastard sport of lacrosse, hockey AND hurling.

#maybe he joins a local hurling team for a couple of months #idk! Irish person thoughts! that will probably not translate to a wider audience #but I’m so passionate about kevs roots #also I can’t believe there’s another Irish person alive who’s read AFTG #where have you been

[cipheramnesia]

I know you talk about movies and TV shows on here a lot, so I'm not sure if you've already a secret this, but do you have any recommendations for things on canabalism? Or werewolves

The cannibalism genre is huge, and you could probably write a book on it. Obviously my favorites are The Texas Chainsaw Massacre and The Texas Chainsaw Massacre Part 2 (the originals, none of the remakes, reboots, whatever). They're two sides of the same strange coin with underlying themes of classism and the deep rot at the core of US nationalism. Along with Night of the Living Dead around six years prior, the original TCM was one of those movies that marked a paradigm shift in horror film.

But meanwhile, there was a huge lurid explosion of cannibalsploitation movies. I don't know most of them very well. Like, I've seen Motel Hell and Blood Diner, The Hills Have Eyes movies, but they didn't do a lot for me. Once you start getting to the end of the 80s, directors seemed to start getting an inkling of the satirical or symbolic value of the cannibal, and that's where some really interesting work happens, for example Parents (1989), the absolutely iconic People Under the Stairs (1991), and a left field one from me personally - Auntie Lee's Meat Pies (1992) - which feels almost accidentally anti-capitalist / anti-authoritarian.

One thing about this period is that for the most part there was an associate of cannibalism with being rural and poor (People Under The Stairs and Parents are notable and very interesting exceptions). A degree of the horror lies in humans eating humans, but in a modern lens these old exploitation films tap into other feelings, finding an undercurrent of anger which comes from the way it's so often poor and rural people literally consuming wealthy or privileged people. The cannibals of these movies were often dirty, or old, or fat, or horny. They were loud and obnoxious and tacky - and their victims were so clean and thin and pretty and wealthy. There's no doubt a lot of the exploitation movies in that whole late sixties to early nineties period weren't exactly made with pure intentions, but many of them hit that "eat the rich" sweet spot in a way more recent movies don't.

But anyway, also starting in the 1990s was the shift towards the idea of cannibalism as something transformative - human flesh went from a staple of the poor and disenfranchised, and started to be a luxury item, or something which marked those who consumed it as special or even elite, sort of kicked off by Silence of the Lambs. However, if you want a more interesting example, Ravenous is a fun watch, and has a lot to unpack going on - both for the good and for the bad. It's one of those movies where you'll find a degree of the mythologizing also start to appropriate first nations culture and in particular a figure which isn't meant to be spoken about just in general. Prior to this, there was already a habitual use of "native people" as "savage cannibals" in the exploitative way, but this was where it swung over to the other side of the horseshoe, to stereotype any sort of pre-colonial people's have having a unique and ritualized consumption of human flesh that separated them from white, western colonizers.

Anyway, that takes us up to recent stuff, which is probably too close to see a clear pattern. People are still making the same movies as before, but some of the more interesting modern approaches where cannibalism is in the context of things like coming of age, or finding a place in the world are Raw and Bones And All. These two takes merge some of the original models of cannibalism being a trait of the underprivileged, but having elements signifying it as a unique experience which allows it to serve as a stand-in for the feeling of transition to adulthood, or being someone who is socially othered in some way. A few others which I think have some interesting takes, but maybe not enough to get into detail, are Flesh, We Are What We Are, Feed Me, and Bloody Hell. Most recently, and probably the best new cannibal movie in ages, is Lowlife, which you can find on Tubi.

Anyway, uh, quick off the cuff werewolf take is that there's not really a perfect werewolf movie which in no particular order should have a bipedal werewolf with a wolf head (not human-like) and is queer. Some movies which are a mixed bag are An American Werewolf In London (great writing, terrible wolf design), The Howling series (cool werewolf design, terrible writing), Ginger Snaps 1+2 (should be queer, isn't), Wolf Cop 1+2 (okay writing, okay design, missing the queer), and Late Phases (good writing, so-so design).

Here are the three that you should watch: Dog Soldiers has peak werewolf design, a really interesting concept, and solid writing. Probably your best bang for the buck in terms of cool werewolf fighting time. Bloodthirsty is peak queer werewolf movie writing, with very little actual wolf. It's beautiful and meditative and I love it. And of course the all time greatest werewolf movie ever: Company of Wolves. More of a dreamscape painting than movie, what it lacks in wolf design it makes up in beauty and depth of psychosexual exploration.

#horror movies #cannibalism #werewolves

[lau219]

Enemies with Benefits

Part 5

Previous part here

…………………………………………………………………………….

​Before opening the door to the office suite at the address on Tommy Shelby’s card, Y/N took a deep breath in through her nose and slowly exhaled through her mouth, trying to mentally prepare herself.

A part of her couldn’t believe she’d come here; she had debated standing him up. She didn’t want to give Tommy the satisfaction of her showing up where and when he’d told her to, but his offer had been tempting enough that she’d convinced herself to at least humor him for the details.

Before reaching for the door handle, she made the deal with herself to leave if he decided to get cute and tried to sweet talk her into any kind of bullshit, or if he didn’t give her complete transparency on whatever kind of agreement they might come to.

Grabbing the handle, Y/N pulled open the door and stepped inside, finding herself in a kind of common area that had several chairs and a sofa surrounding a large coffee table. There was a gas fireplace behind the sitting area and the walls were covered in artwork. Off to the side of the room was a small desk, several stacks of paper sitting on top, along with a few personal items that indicated that the desk was occupied by a woman. The room was empty, however, and as Y/N took a few steps further inside, she wondered if there was anyone even there.

“Oh, shit!” came a woman’s voice suddenly, and as Y/N turned towards the sound, she saw an older dark-haired woman emerging from a door at the back of the room. She had a cup of coffee in her hand that she’d unintentionally dripped from as she’d tried to close the door behind her, and she wagged her hand in the air to relieve the sting of the hot liquid.

“Are you OK?” Y/N said as she watched the woman bring her scalded hand to her mouth and suck the liquid off her skin. Her hand still at her lips, the woman raised her head and looked up, meeting Y/N’s eyes.

“Fucking peachy,” the woman responded, and Y/N worried she’d already made her upset, but after she walked over to the small desk to set the cup of coffee down, she turned around to face her, and she gave her a big smile.

“Let me guess, you must be Y/F/N Y/L/N,” the woman said. Y/N guessed she was somewhere between her late forties and early fifties, and while older, her beauty was still evident, and her smile caused Y/N to feel a bit more at ease.

“That’s me,” Y/N replied, giving the woman a friendly but somewhat reserved smile back. “Are you sure you’re OK?”

The woman waved her hand dismissively.

“Just fine; it happens all the time. Just not usually in front of company.”

Y/N smiled timidly again.

“I’m here to see Thomas Shelby,” she said.

“I know,” the woman replied with another smile. She then walked over to Y/N and stopped in front of her.

“Well, aren’t you just the most darling thing,” she continued as her smile grew warmer. She then held out her hand for Y/N to shake. “I’m Polly. Polly Gray. Tommy is my nephew.”

Y/N extended her hand to shake Polly’s.

“It’s nice to meet you,” she said.

“Likewise, dear. After everything I’ve heard about you, I’ve got to be honest, I couldn’t wait to meet you.”

Y/N tilted her head.

“What have you heard, exactly?” she asked Polly, who smiled big again.

“Oh, just that you’re an incredibly smart, talented, take-no-shit businesswoman who can handle herself and put obnoxious men in their place.”

Y/N smiled and let out a small laugh.

“I find it hard to believe that Mr. Shelby said any of that about me,” she said.

“He didn’t,” Polly confirmed as she shook her head. “I concluded it myself after hearing the things you’ve said to him and the others. And I’ve got to tell you, I wish I’d been there to see even a little bit of it. It’s about time someone told all of them what they need to hear.”

Y/N laughed at that – she liked this woman. As Polly indicated towards the sofa and gestured for Y/N to sit down, she took a seat opposite her in one of the chairs.

“Well, your nephews don’t seem to be very familiar with the word ‘no’, particularly Tommy,” Y/N said. “I’m mostly here today just so he’ll finally leave me alone.”

Polly crossed her legs and smiled again, but it didn’t quite reach her eyes.

“The problem there is that Thomas is as determined as you,” she said.

Polly knew this all was not going to go well, but she had been unable to convince Tommy not to go through with it. There was no changing his mind once he’d decided on something, and the added fact that he had his eye on this girl meant that there was even more certainty in his decision. All Polly could do now was hope that Y/N was truly as strong as she seemed.

“Determined. Pushy. Irritating. Arrogant. They all work interchangeably when it comes to him,” Y/N said with a playful smile.

“I think I’ve found my new best friend,” Polly grinned back at her, and the two of them laughed. But after a moment, Polly’s expression became somewhat serious again.

“Just remember, honey, whatever happens, you can handle him.”

Y/N’s brow furrowed slightly, the older woman’s statement sounding almost like a sympathetic warning. But before Y/N had any more time to analyze what Polly had said, the door at the back of the room opened, and who should appear but Tommy Shelby.

His eyes met Y/N’s, and she felt a quick rush go through her as she looked at his handsome face. It was intimidating seeing him on his territory instead of her own, and she swallowed as he spoke.

“Things are sounding a bit too diabolical out here,” he said as his eyes moved from Y/N to Polly. He smirked when he looked at Y/N again, and to her dismay, she couldn’t control the blush that she felt creep up her cheeks.

“Just plotting your demise, Tommy, darling, that’s all,” Polly said as she quickly looked at him over her shoulder before turning back to Y/N, whom she gave another smile.

“Well, as much as I hate to break that up, Miss Y/L/N and I have a meeting, Pol,” Tommy said, his eyes landing on Y/N again.

“Ohh, we wouldn’t want to interfere with that, now, would we?” Polly said with feigned concern.

Unable to sit still any longer under Tommy’s gaze, Y/N looked down as she stood up from the sofa and grabbed her bag, which she’d set beside her. Following her movement, Tommy waited until she’d looked up again, and when she did, he spoke.

“This way, love,” he said to her, and jerked his head for her to join him.

Before moving, Y/N looked at Polly one more time, who gave her an encouraging wink before rising from her chair and heading back over to the desk on the side of the room. As soon as the path was clear, Y/N began walking towards Tommy, avoiding his eyes until she stopped in front of him and had no choice but to look at him. As she stepped through the doorway and Tommy closed it behind her, he smiled.

“You look gorgeous, love,” he said to her.

Y/N’s heart skipped a beat again, but she narrowed her eyes at him.

“I’m here to talk business,” she said to him.

Tommy just smiled again.

“Yes, ma’am,” he responded teasingly. “This way.”

He then turned and led her down the short hallway and into another room, which was obviously his office. A large wooden desk sat as the focal point, with bookshelves on either side and two wing backed chairs in front of it. A big screen TV was mounted on the wall behind the two chairs, and a narrow floor to ceiling window accented one of the adjacent walls. The entire vibe of it was intimate, but also reflected the authority the room and its occupant held.

As she entered his office, Y/N saw that there was another man sitting in one of the chairs in front of Tommy’s desk. As Tommy rounded his desk and sat down, he indicated for Y/N to have a seat in the vacant chair, meeting her eyes as she looked at him with confusion.

“Have a seat, Y/N,” Tommy said as he leaned back in his own chair.

Apprehensively, Y/N sat down, perching on the edge of the chair and looking between the two men.

“This is Patrick Warner, he’s one of the head bankers over on 3rd Street,” Tommy said by way of an introduction, mentioning the location of their mutual bank.

“It’s nice to meet you, Miss Y/L/N,” Patrick spoke then, extending his hand to Y/N, which she hesitantly shook.

“I didn’t realize that whatever we’d be discussing today required the presence of a banker,” Y/N said as she shifted her eyes from Patrick to Tommy. “I thought we were just discussing specifics of this potential job you’ve offered me.”

Tommy nodded.

“Among other things,” he said.

Y/N narrowed her eyes.

“What ‘other things’?” she said.

“The sale of your club,” Patrick spoke up then.

Frowning, Y/N turned to him.

“I’m not selling my club,” she said. “To Mr. Shelby or anyone else.”

“No, you’re not selling it,” Patrick replied. “But the bank is.”

Her frown intensifying, Y/N looked from Patrick to Tommy, who was watching her with an unreadable expression. She looked back to Patrick again.

“What do you mean? What are you talking about? The bank can’t sell it. I own it,” Y/N said as she shook her head.

“I’m afraid it’s a bit more complicated than that,” Patrick replied.

Y/N looked to Tommy once more, and when he didn’t say anything, she spoke.

“What the hell is going on?”

“I’m buying your club, love,” Tommy finally said.

“The fuck you are,” Y/N responded before turning back to Patrick. “What the hell is he talking about?” she asked him.

“I’m afraid when you bought the club several years ago, that the banker in charge of the sale failed to notice that the property itself that the club sits on was still partially bank-owned. The previous owner never fully paid off that portion of the sale, but he’d paid off enough of it that the amount the bank was still waiting on didn’t draw enough attention and was repeatedly overlooked. Enough time passed that the bank, embarrassingly enough, essentially forgot about the remaining balance. But when Mr. Shelby came to us with interest in buying the property, this all came to light.”

The entire time Patrick had been talking, Y/N’s head was spinning as she tried to process everything he was saying.

“I paid for the place, fair and square,” she said. “I paid for it. It’s all in my transaction history. Go on and check it. I paid everything the previous owner asked for.”

Patrick nodded.

“Yes, you did,” he conceded, “but that amount all went to the previous owner. There was still a remaining balance due on the land.”

Y/N shook her head again.

“What are you saying?” she asked.

“I’m saying that you may own the club, but not the land it sits on, due to the outstanding balance. And with that brought to light, the remaining balance needs to be paid. Either by you, or someone else.”

“Ok, so if I pay the remaining balance, then I own it all?” Y/N asked.

“Yes,” Patrick answered.

“Ok, how much is owed?” she followed up.

Patrick hesitated and briefly looked at Tommy before looking back to her.

“Thirty thousand dollars,” he replied.

Upon hearing that number, the color drained from Y/N’s face. She didn’t have that kind of money laying around.

“What?!” she yelped. “I thought you just said it was a small enough balance that you’d overlooked it?!”

“That is small, in terms of the other loans we’re out for,” Patrick replied.

Her eyes still wide, Y/N shook her head again, then turned to Tommy, whose expression was still neutral.

“So...so what does this mean?” she asked neither of them in particular.

“Mr. Shelby has paid the entire cost of the property, which includes the balance that was outstanding. He now owns the property,” Patrick answered.

Y/N slowly turned and looked at Tommy again, silently demanding some kind of explanation.

“I’d brought it to their attention before we’d even met, love,” Tommy said to her. “But the fact of the matter is, it was up for grabs, so I took it.”

“I...I don’t even...” Y/N furrowed her brow again. “I’m not even understanding this. What does it matter if the property wasn’t paid off? I still own that club. I don’t care about owning the property.”

“You have to own the property to own the club, Miss Y/L/N,” Patrick responded.

“What?” she said.

“Owning the property means owning whatever is on it. Therefore, Mr. Shelby now also owns the club.”

At that, Y/N began furiously shaking her head.

“No. No, no, no. That can’t be possible. How can that even be allowed?”

“I’m afraid it’s all in the closing agreements between the bank and whoever were to become owner,” said Patrick. “With ownership of the property comes owning whatever is on it, including structures or businesses.”

“That’s absolute bullshit!” Y/N shouted. “You’re selling this out from under me?! That can’t be legal!”

“I’m afraid it is,” Patrick replied.

“You knew this was going to happen?” Y/N then said to Tommy, turning to look at him and giving him a glare that was dripping with hatred. “You already had all this in the works when you came to me wanting to buy it and then asking me to work for you?”

“It’s simply a change in ownership, Y/N,” Tommy calmly replied. “I still want you to work for me – in running the place as well as the other job we discussed.”

“You’re even more arrogant than I thought humanly possible if you think for a minute that I’m going to work for you after pulling a stunt like this,” she replied.

“It’s business, love. Nothing personal,” Tommy responded.

Y/N held up her hand to silence him, refusing to look at him again.

“What about my money?” she asked Patrick. “If this truly has been sold to him, then I should be getting back what I paid for the place.”

“You will,” Patrick confirmed, “although with inflation and also the fact that you got the place for a steal due to how poorly it was doing, it won’t be enough to purchase anything new.”

“This is absolute bullshit!” Y/N repeated again, standing up from her chair. “There’s no way this is legal!”

“I’m afraid it is,” said Patrick again.

Y/N turned to Tommy.

“I’ll sue you,” she said.

Tommy didn’t reply, and Patrick interjected for him.

“I’d caution you that that’d be a waste of your time and money, Miss Y/L/N – everything about this is legal. Not to mention that suing would only draw more attention to the fact that you technically never owned the place to begin with.”

It was now Patrick’s turn to receive a death glare.

“So I’m being punished for a mistake that the bank made and was too stupid to notice for eight years?!” Y/N was practically screaming. “A bunch of morons like you overlook something like this and I’m being robbed?!”

Patrick said nothing as she stared him down before she turned to Tommy once more.

“How could you sit there and act like you were giving me a choice when in reality you’d already executed this?”

“I told you, the process had already begun before we’d even met,” said Tommy.

“You could have pulled the plug between now and then,” she replied.

“By that point, the bank was reminded of the outstanding balance,” Tommy reasoned. “Either you’d have had to pay it, or I could have bought it all. I’m guessing the first option wouldn’t have been possible.”

Although that was true, it didn’t matter. This never should have happened.

“You lied to me. You said the other night that your focus had shifted. And you lied about becoming owner of my place.”

“My focus had shifted,” Tommy replied. “I already knew that the club was going to be mine, so my attention then went to still keeping you to run it, as well as hiring you to assess the other places, which I still want you to do.” He paused. “And I didn’t lie about becoming the owner; I never even mentioned it.”

“Exactly! A lie of omission!” Y/N responded. “You were just playing me.”

“It’s not like that, love.”

Y/N was ready to slap him.

“You selfish son of a bitch! None of this would ever have happened if you hadn’t been hell-bent on putting your name on every Goddamn establishment in this city. Look what you’ve taken from me! I’ve got nothing now!”

“That’s not true,” Tommy replied, looking at her. “My offer still stands. I want you to work for me, and also keep running the club. No one else can do it.”

Bending down, Y/N violently yanked her bag up off the floor and looked at him.

“Then you and your brothers better learn how real fast!”

At that, she turned and headed for the door, preparing to leave, but not before turning around to look at both Tommy and Patrick a final time, her eyes still full of hatred.

“You both can fucking go to hell!”

As she then stormed out of the room and down the short hallway, she could hardly see due to the hot tears behind her eyes that were beginning to blur her vision. If she could see clearly, she would have noticed Polly standing from her desk as she flew by, a sympathetic and concerned look on her face as she watched Y/N walk out and slam the door behind her.

Part 6

@nyxxie-pooh @xsweetcatastrophe @febris-amatoria @hannibellector @natalie--rushman

@beastofburdenxo @garrison-girl-08 @meister95 @betty21rose @hudson-bay-girl

@neonpurplestars89-blog @fuseburner @aphroditeslover11 @wild-rose-35 @allie131313

@ceirinen @devotedlyshadowytheorist @alltoowellbeneaththemangotree @judig92 @fairytale07 @galactict3a @runnning-outof-time

#modern tommy shelby #modern tommy shelby x reader #modern tommy fic #modern tommy shelby smut #modern tommy #modern peaky blinders #18+ only

[thegreymoon]

The Story of Minglan

Nice of you to finally warn Prince Huan of the shitstorm coming his way.

Poor guy, he really does not seem equipped for dealing with all the court shenanigans and a mad father.

***

OMFG, we finally get a name for this woman!

***

You always get the news last, from what I've seen.

***

LMAOOOO, of course he did 🤣🤣

So much rotten offspring! And so many indulging parents who spend their whole lives covering up their crimes and misdeeds.

***

Endless idiocy.

What conferred title? The only thing he is suited for is the executioner's block.

***

AAAAAA, THEY KEEP TALKING ABOUT THIS DRUM BUT THIS IS THE FIRST TIME THEY'VE SHOWN SOMEONE USING IT!!

***

It took her long enough.

***

And here we go.

***

LOL, they clearly didn't see anything??

How are they witnesses? Are they here to blatantly lie?

Also, isn't that kid the son of Wang Ruoyu? How could he have seen anything?

***

LOL, I've been saying!!

And they should have disciplined her long ago, tbh.

***

WTF?

Lies, lies and more lies. All lies.

It is honestly tiresome to watch.

***

Okay, I laughed 🤣🤣

Anyway, if Gu Tingye says he has a plan, then he has a plan. It's probably something underhanded, too, if he can't tell Changbai. I'm not worried. I'm not worried. I'm not worried.

***

This does not bode well.

Also, does anyone know what that band around her head is? Madam Zhang wore one too, when she was sick and after she had given birth.

***

LMAO, I love that his stupid ass is now offering to provide false testimony for Gu Tingye 🤣🤣

His heart is (finally) in the right place but he's just so dumb 🤣🤣

***

Ridiculously cute 💛

***

WTF?

Fucking Manniang again?

***

OMFG, IT IS FUCKING MANNIANG AGAIN 🤬🤬

WHY DIDN'T THEY JUST KILL HER WHEN THEY HAD THE CHANCE 😭😭😭😭

WHYYYYYYYYY😭😭😭

And now we all have to put up with her screeching some more 😭😭

***

I can't tell if she's outright lying or if whatever personality disorder she's got has convinced her that this actually happened because the truth is impossible to bear.

***

God, I cannot stand this woman.

To be this obnoxious and this shameless! Somebody, please stab her already!

***

How is her crazy ass anything even remotely something resembling a reliable witness fit to appear BEFORE A FUCKING EMPEROR?

I mean, the Emperor wisely excused himself on this particular day and the Prime Minister took over, but my point still stands!

***

Okay, now that this episode is done, I am 99% convinced that all this is some scheme between Gu Tingye and the Emperor because the whole thing just devolved into such disastrous chaos. There were these lowlifes, lying through their teeth on things that can be easily disproven (starting with Manniang) but Tingye, who is usually so thorough, careful and meticulous in everything he does mounted such a poor defence, it cannot even be called a defence!

They are definitely up to something and are letting these vermin dig their own graves in the meantime. I am pretty sure that is the plot twist people have warned me is coming, otherwise, none of this makes sense, all things considered. Gu Tingye was already caught once without an adequate defence when Madam Qin was falsely accusing him, there is zero chance he would have let it happen twice. All this is a ruse and he keeps hinting at it to Qi Heng and Sheng Changbai to keep them from doing something stupid on his behalf.

#the story of minglan #tsoml spoilers #tsoml ep69

[ladywaterfall]

rant: I hate that the internet (and society but it's very prevalent on the internet) has fostered this kind of "being negative about everything is smart, being cynical is the intellectual thing to do, kindness and seeing the positive in things is dumb and naive" like every positive or even neutral tiktok I see have people doing such negative gotchas in the comments, and taking irrelevant details and blowing them up as something they are not and put them in a bad light. I say tiktok but these kind of "negative clapback betcha didnt even consider THIS, I am very smart and you are dumb for having a sliver of happiness" is on every website. If you fall into this mindset early you are conditioning your brain to always look for negativity until that becomes the path of least resistance and positivity becomes scarce and harder to look for cause your brain is so used to only focusing on the negative.

#im saying this as a person who has overblown the negative all her life #I wasnt in the obnoxious well actually gotcha type of sphere #but with a negative headspace happiness becomes harder #and even though your negativ irrelevant gotcha clapbacks gets you likes on the internet #look which people everyone flocks to in real life #its the bubbly happy people #because irl we like happiness #but we are conditioning ourselves to negativity #and I understdn negativity is everywhere bc we have never had more info about every terrible thing in the world #Im not talking about being concerned abt actual issues #Im talking about purposely finding the negative in things to seem smart #if you have fallen into a negativity headspace it is SO HARD to get out #I know people dont say clapback anymore it seems like but this is the most concise way of describing it #that I can think of at the moment

[icewindandboringhorror]

Various images of things

#image commentary in tags once again since they don't allow captions anymore and I feel weird using the alt text for that -- #1. PIBBINS.... cheering clapping hooting hollering glorious applause everytime I see a pigeon in public #2. Birthday card that I drew for someone. .. kittys... #3. 2023's annual haul of tiny white pumpkins.. i get at least one white pumpkin every year around fall when they have pumpkins in stores #because I just love the color and texture ... bright white and smooth and cold and round.. kind of like a volleyball or something #4. A brief adventure into watching big brother (only earlier seasons of course as I hate all reality shows post like 2013 or something when #they became overly focused on social media and overproduced memeable phrases more.. like even though ALL reality shows have always #been extremely fake and annoying and mindless it's like..... newer stuff seems A Different Kind Of Fake or something) since whenever #I'm sick sometimes I find weird mindless things like that to watch (that one time I had bronchitis I watched all of Flavor of Love in my #half awake illness stupor and now everytime I heat up canned minestrone soup (mostly all I ate that week) I think of flavor flav since #thats just a weird brain connection I have now lol) ANYWAY.. I was sick and watched like 2 seasons of this and then thought it was too #uninteresting and obnoxious to continue (more like 1 and a half since I skipped the rest of one once only boring people were left) BUT this #one guy had a very mischevious looking face and he also said a few things (like the above captioned speech) that sounded like dialogue #some fantasy character would say.. so I took a screencap of him and edited him into a mischevious wizard i guess.?? idk I was sick lol #~your little friend has a poisoned tongue~ is just a very unexpectedly serious sounding wording for some random normal #frat dude looking guy to say while casually chatting on a reality tv show in like 2008 or whenever that was filmed lol #5. FLUFFY CLOVERS!! I'd never seen them be furry and soft before?? inchresting.. #6. Noodle sitting in bed with the cat figurines looming above him... the council of kittys... #7. McDonald's full breakfast platter + asparagus + strawberries & cream (also of course this is old and I am now boycotting mcdonalds etc) #i try to group the images somewhat consistently like.. winter stuff with winter stuff or summer stuff with summer stuff #but I have so many random pictrues floating around on my computer that I never post that sometimes some are not organized or just #thrown into a set because there's nowhere else for them. Like the pigeon picture is from like 3 years ago for example lol #8 & 9 - I think I've posted these before but I just find them very interesting looking flowers. whenever they happen to be blooming #I'll pick up a few when I'm out on walks or etc. ... poof ball looking things #photo diary

[rmorde]

I try to be as objective and unbiased as possible while watching stans go at each other in the fan war that is Gojover vs Fraudkuna. However, there is one camp that is just a different kind of breed.

#i'm talking about hardcore sukuna stans #they're just so fucking defensive that they start dishing out takes that makes me wonder about their reading comprehension skills #gojo stans can be obnoxious but their brand of 'he's gonna survive!' is a bit more palatable than the sukuna hardcore stans #those sukuna stans brand of 'he is not actually making an effort' is just stupid #what does than even mean?! sukuna is pulling out all the stops too and he should given credit for that #sukuna is going toe-to-toe against gojo in the domain expansion spam #sukuna learns fast and plans like batman #ah now i know how to put it into words: hardcore sukuna stans put him on a stupid pedestal and it's starting to get annoying #they are ignoring what is making sukuna such a king right now in the fight: he takes an L but recovers from it too like gojo #those sukuna stans really badly want to win the dick measuring contest #admittedly certain gojo stans are like that too but majority i've seen just want him to stay alive by the end of the story #and even if those gojo stans do want to win the dick measuring contest #they already consider it won the moment sukuna called mahoraga and used megumi (hence the fraudkuna memes) #at this point those gojo stans seems to be gg and just interested now more about who will survive #it's the sukuna hardcore stans who still have some serious beef #again these are just my personal observations #also the gojo stans memes are funnier #the sukuna stans peaked with the gojover and have yet to serve something that is genuinely funny again

[doebt]

This is just a reddit post but this is THE way to eat staek re:doneness. I dont eat a lot of meat especially steak it kind of grosses me out but when i DO crave a steak im going to do it right. That thang is going to be PINK pink inside

#I know a rare steak is supposed to be cold in the middle but i cant ever eat more than like a fifth of the thing anyway #so i dont even get to that part so it doesnt affect me #but it seems no different than sushi or something like that so I dont get the big deal #people who swear by raw steak like im doing right now are so obnoxious but people who swear by a welldone steak are also #so obnoxious. And you have to pick a side. this is my side #and if you disagree then bye

[southislandwren]

Every farmers market this past week and a half (so like 4 or something idk) we drink a ton of water and then I’m like oh just toss the empty bottles in my car so we don’t have to go find a trash can. And that works great until I have 11 FUCKING WATER BOTTLES in my backseat

#and there’s no trash service out here so the next time I get gas I have to do the walk of shame with my 11 BOTTLES to the trash can #markets exhaust me but they’re fun since I get to sell cheese and hang out with my boss #today her husband was there too and he wasn’t obnoxious or gross or anything. great work buddy #unfortunately I continue to fear that my boss secretly hates me now. I must try not to be cringe anymore #and I was doing really well at being normal until two fucking Thursdays ago #she said I love you and I haven’t recovered apparently #I don’t even know if she’s aware she said that she might’ve been too drunk at that point #idk. maybe tomorrow I’ll be like are you okay? you seem bummed out. and then that gives her an opening to be like #actually I fucking hate you/you crossed a boundary/I want you to go home and not come back ever/etc #but if I ask that what’ll most likely happen is she’ll be like oh im fine! just tired #and it’s like yeah I know youre tired but is there something I can do to help. like be less cringe and awful. #work post #she didn’t call me in until 4:45 today so I got to play arceus all day long #I’m a couple hours away from 100 hours of gameplay woohoo #I organized my boxes so I have all 200+ mons in numerical order #(just one of each so I put all the extras in color order) #and then I have my team separated out so I can grab them as needed #and then I went on my other profile and got some more plates. so now I need spiritomb’s plate and I can do the volo fight #I’m gonna be a wreck when I do the volo fight it’s such a heartbreaking plot twist #and I’m recording all the dialogue so I can make more progress on my fanfic #which I haven’t been working on since I 1) haven’t played arceus 2) haven’t been on my laptop that often 3) don’t get a ton of alone time #but when school starts and I throw myself back into my coping mechanisms I’ll make a lot of progress #okay I think that’s all for tonight. gotta go to bed now

[ecoamerica]

Watch the 2024 American Climate Leadership Awards for High School Students now: https://youtu.be/5C-bb9PoRLc

The recording is now available on ecoAmerica's YouTube channel for viewers to be inspired by student climate leaders! Join Aishah-Nyeta Brown & Jerome Foster II and be inspired by student climate leaders as we recognize the High School Student finalists. Watch now to find out which student received the $25,000 grand prize and top recognition!

#ACLA24 #ACLA24HighSchoolStudents #youtube #youtube video #climate leaders #climate solutions #climate action #climate and environment #climate #climate change #climate and health #climate blog #climate justice #climate news #weather and climate #environmental news #environment #environmental awareness #environment and health #environmental #environmental issues #environmental education #environmental justice #environmental protection #environmental health #high school students #high school #youth #youth of america #school

[dogwittaablog]

I actually don’t think he has dating apps rn I feel like he stopped the apps other than raya just cause he’s not following random girls all the time on insta and he used to back in the day when he was on tinder and bumble

I feel like he's probably over dating apps, I only think he re-downloads whenever he's down bad and bored.

I don't even think he's up on raya like that either It probably initially made sense for him to have it when he was active in the league and living in the states. The way the app works doesn't seem suitable for him to be using it all the way in WPG + the app has gone downhill over the years anyways... and wouldn't be surprised if he had no luck on there either. (Im sorry but nolpats could not attain those kind of women on there).

#raya seems super shallow and the demographic on there comes off very unattainable for most #he’d only be able to get 🐈 if he had over 200k+ #and a little bit more of a name to him #and even then probably not. #its safe to say i think his thirst follows have died down just in general once he was out the league? LMAO #okay but tbh i never found his thirst follows to be that crazy obnoxious like some dudes out there anyways #nolan patrick #nolpat #feb ‘24 subs

[master-gatherer]

.

#i could never be internet famous #like somehow i seem to get the really obnoxious asshole within the first or second replies #not to detract from people that get hundreds of those on top of a thousand pretty decent replies #but the number of times i didnt even get the pleasant experience before some dickhead came along and ruined it #idk man some people just cannot read a room #and think that this post with zero notes from this nobody is exactly who needs to get 'put in their place' or w/e #at least here its all strangers i can block #on facebook i had people who i knew in real life do that constantly #shoutout to that one college teacher i had who could not keep his damn mouth shut when not about him #like would you do this if we were in the same room? maybe thats why people find you unpleasant #(said teacher was cool in person and it was after i had finished the class with him but oh my god learn some internet ettiquette) #honestly the number of truly pleasant internet experiences ive had outweigh the shitty ones (love to my friends and mutuals 😘) #but this is that psyche thing where you focus on the bad way more than the good- a thing i am aware i need to work on #just idk man #it shouldnt weigh on me like it does but b/t not having written much in like a year (after i thought i was over my writers block) #the thought of finally finishing my thing and putting it out there only to be met by a handful of readers who do not get what im doing #and deciding to make it my problem #even if its outweighed by people who dig what im doing #makes me even less inclined to get back to it #i need to work through it i know #maybe i need to just tell myself i dont have to share it #it can wallow on my harddrive #worked the first time

[satoruxx]

thinking about since canonically Geto is more popular with girls than Gojo he’s gotten used to them looking past him to get to Geto but what if Gojo and Geto are out for drinks with the other teachers one night and he gets approached by the reader but he thinks she’s just coming over to ask him for Geto’s number and so he prepares his ‘responsible best friend’ act and then SHE ASKS ABOUT HIM INSTEAD, ALL BLUSHY AND STUFF BECAUSE HE LOOKED LIKE HE WAS GONNA BRUSH HER OFF

AHH I LOVE HIM SM 😔😔😔

pairing: gojo satoru x reader | 1k words summary: fluff, pining, reader is a simp but same, satoru is a good wingman but he needs attention too, au ig bc suguru's alive LMAO, idiots in love? rheya's note: oh my god shut up this is so cute and YOU'RE ABSOLUTELY RIGHT??? i can just imagine that he's gotten so used to judging whether or not the person is even worth suguru's attention before deciding to pass on his info...and after a while his brain just defaults to thinking that everyone wants suguru but he FORGETS that there are gojo girlies out there (me asf) !! thanks for the ask nonnie babes i love this idea so so much <33

OK SO

it's obvious that there are quite a few women at the bar eyeing the group. young, attractive teachers spending an evening trying to relax and take their minds off of the stress of jujutsu work. nanami is in deep conversation with shoko about something while ijichi quietly listens. further down the table utahime is quietly sipping her drink while mei mei orders another. shoko makes a comment and suguru bursts into unabashed laughter.

the flush of alcohol dusts over each of their cheeks, but satoru remans the only one who has barely touched his glass, the sting of the bitterness a little too harsh for him to enjoy. he opts for instead letting his eyes roam over the faces in the crowd, taking little notice of all the eyes and smiles sent in their direction.

well until he notices you anyway.

you're already looking in his direction curiously, face illuminated by the dim lighting of the bar as your friends giggle around you. when his eyes lock with yours, you immediately tear your gaze away, trying to play it off by immediately delving into conversation, though satoru can tell that there's a flush crawling up your neck now.

he doesn't look away though, too caught up in the crinkle of your eyes and the smile lines that grace your face as you laugh at something. a minute later you're looking back in their direction, and when you catch him staring, you turn away yet again.

satoru glances to his side, knowing that you're probably watching suguru take a sip of his drink and most likely falling for his charming smile.

typical and so predictable.

some time passes like this. you'll look, and turn away, and satoru will watch you do it over and over again. it isn't until a while later that satoru catches your friends pushing your shoulders and giggling, and he knows that they're urging you to come up and ask about suguru. you're shaking your head, the nervousness clear as day as your brows pinch. but eventually you succumb to peer pressure and stand up from your table, taking anxious strides towards him.

and usually, satoru will make a face or turn his back or do something to look as unapproachable as possible. because almost every person who comes up asking for suguru's contact info has been obnoxious as hell.

but you're quite pretty and you look sweet enough, and he doesn't think it'd be right to deter you.

suguru would probably like you too.

so satoru decides to let you try at least, and if you seem to be as nice as you look maybe he'd bridge the gap between you and his best friend.

you make your way up to him, and as soon as he finally gets a good look at you he's thinking you're a lot prettier up close.

dammit.

"hi," you say, face hot as you try your best to maintain steady eye contact with him. you look so nervous, fidgeting with the fabric of your clothes as you attempt to strike up conversation, and he doesn't have it in him to watch you struggle.

"yeah i can give you his number," he says, voice clipped as he tries to hide the disappointment in it. you watch him grab a napkin and begin scribbling something down, confusion clear as he hands you the digits.

"um…?" you look at the napkin and then at him. "sorry, whose number is this?"

satoru balks, lips parting as he mirrors your confusion. "uh…suguru's? the guy behind me?"

realization dawns on your face and you shift your weight from foot to foot.

"oh actually," you suck your teeth nervously, trying to hide behind an awkward little smile. "i came to talk to you."

satoru can only blink, cerulean eyes widening behind his glasses as he stares at you in surprise.

you take his silence as a bad sign, shoulders dropping and embarrassment settling in your frown as you look anywhere but his face. "s-sorry if that's weird. i don't wanna make you uncomfortable or anything so-"

he's grinning before he can stop himself, heart dangerously swelling with affection as he motions toward the empty stool next to him. "not weird at all."

the pleasant surprise on your face makes him bite back a chuckle, and you take the seat. "huh...i wasn't expecting you to be okay with it."

satoru raises a brow curiously, tilting his head. "why not?"

you shrug with a careless grin. "i had a feeling you were gonna brush me off from the moment i first looked over."

satoru winces, and he can practically feel suguru's knowing smirk on his back. he chooses to ignore that for now, eyes trailing over the mirth in your expression, and he can only smile helplessly. "no way in hell."

your laugh comes instantly, sweet and bright, and you take it as a sign to continue talking. satoru listens on, sipping his drink to hide his giddy smile and ignoring the sting of bitterness once again.

honestly, with the amount of sweetness he's just found, satoru would tolerate as much bitterness as he needed to.

#[𐐪— rheya’s writings. 𐑂] #gojo satoru x reader #jjk x reader #jjk fluff #gojo x reader #jujutsu kaisen fluff #jujutsu kaisen x reader #gojo satoru headcanons #gojo satoru #jujutsu kaisen #satoru x reader #satoru gojo x reader #jujutsu kaisen headcanons #gojo x you #jjk #jjk x you #gojo satoru x y/n #jjk fanfic #jjk season 2 #geto suguru #satoru gojo #gojou satoru x reader #jjk gojo #gojo drabbles #gojo angst #jujutsu kaisen angst #gojo imagine #gojo #[𐐪— asks. 𐑂]

[5ummit]

New Mature Content Warning Overlay (And How to Get Rid of It)

More fun community label "features"! Unlike the new mandatory label for #NSFW, this one is a bigger deal to me because it affects my entire blog and it can't be avoided by just using a different tag.

Apparently on custom blog layouts, if you happen to post or reblog even a SINGLE post that's been flagged with the mature content community label, a full-page warning overlay will appear blurring out your entire blog that must be manually clicked through every single time the page is refreshed. At first I thought this was just a bug due to my older layout but I've come to realize it's not. It's a feature (as confirmed by this recent changes post) that affects all custom themes. The formatting will vary based on your own theme but here's what it looks like on my blog:

I don't know about you but I find this is stupid and annoying. If it could be dismissed once and never seen again that might be one thing, but that's not the case. The vast majority of my blog is not "mature" enough to warrant such an aggressive and invasive warning. I also think pop-ups are obnoxious in general and I'll be damned if tumblr's going to force me to have one on MY blog.

After some desperate googling for a known workaround and being unable to find even a single mention of it, I decided to take on the challenge myself. I'm not a theme coder, so apologies if there's a better way to do this, but luckily it only took me like 10 minutes to figure out a simple fix, which I'm now sharing with anyone else who may want it:

.community-label-cover__wrapper {display: none}

Just copypaste that somewhere in your CSS and goodbye pop-up!

If you're not sure how to access your theme code, check out this help article. You can also add the code via the Advanced Options menu, which is actually even better (if you can get it to work, it depends on how your theme was coded), because it will then automatically be reapplied to a lot of themes without having to remember to manually add it every time if you change your theme in the future.

Obviously this will only remove it from your own blog for anyone who may visit it. If you never want to see this warning again on other people's blogs you can also add this custom filter to your ad block:

tumblr.com##.community-label-cover__wrapper

Unfortunately I do not have an easy tutorial on hand for this one as the method will depend on your specific ad block app or extension.

Some additional notes:

After adding the theme code and saving the changes, give it a minute to update as it sometimes takes a little while for the page to refresh.

The warning overlay only seems to appear if a "mature" post is on the FIRST page of your blog, which is still annoying and makes the whole thing even more pointless and stupid because what if someone visits any other page of your blog, and oh no, happens to see "mature" content they weren't warned about?!

The warning also appears on direct links to "mature" posts.

This hack has NOTHING to do with entire blogs that have been flagged as NSFW. It only works for non-flagged blogs with custom themes that happen to have individual "mature" posts.

#I'm not letting my entire blog be penalized for a couple rare singular posts that may or may not even be 'mature' enough to warrant it #tumblr may force us to use community labels #and they may have full control over the new blogview #but MY custom blog layout has always been and always will be MINE to format and present however I want #that's the whole point #tumblr #psa #tutorial #my words #tumblr themes #wendy's help desk

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