#also maybe i put him in front of a mountain because i’ve been called mountain a lot in acnh..

[adultswim2021]

Moral Orel #29: “Nature” | July 9, 2007 - 12:15AM | S02E19

This is an incredible episode. The first of a two-parter that caps off season two in a similar fashion to season one (if you watched it in production order and not airdate order, that is [this will always be a thing, sorry]). A Moral Orel episode where the facade of Moralton begins to crack and we’re let in on how real this world actually is. This one starts off slightly atypically: in Clay’s study, post-Orel-being-punished for some vague offense. The tone is pretty typical Moral Orel, bleakly-tinged darkly-comic dialogue and one-liners, a conventional story beginning to unfold that will soon have some wicked twist applied to it, strong visual storytelling and amusing background details, etc. All the shit you expect from Moral Orel.  

The plot is that Clay simply wants to take Orel hunting, as it’s about that time in a child’s/TV-show’s life when a father does that with his son. Personally, I’ve never hunted. But I came of age at a time and place when and where it was still fairly common shared experience among boys Orel’s age when I was also Orel’s age. Orel doesn’t have it in him to hunt down one of God’s creatures, despite Clay’s insistence that they are merely helping the animals take “nature’s shortcut”; God’s preference to man gave them the wisdom to flee from Nature, putting the animals in a pitiable position of remaining “ungodly”. So, taking them out as a part of a hunting expedition is akin to putting these damned souls out of their misery. It’s tortured logic, but that’s Christianity for you. (Penn & Teller Bullshit theme begins playing). 

Clay gets drunker and drunker and more and more cruel towards Orel. Not only does he shoot a deer in front of Orel against Orel’s wishes, he also kills a random person’s hunting dog, which is terrible. Clay cruelly denies Orel dinner, because he didn’t kill anything himself. Orel eventually calls Clay out on his drunkenness, which causes him to sort of go manic, just dumping nihilism on his son. The show is now a harrowing psycho-drama. Orel is clutching a pistol, which happens to be pointed at his dad. Orel fires. TO BE CONTINUED…

This one is pretty brutal, in the same vein of “Best Christmas Ever”. When Orel hesitantly tells his father that he’s too drunk, and that they need to go home, it breaks your heart. You’re witnessing this kid grow up in real time. Orel is supposed to be an innocent kid. Furthermore, he’s supposed to be a smart-allecky parody of Davey from Davey and Goliath. How could the writers let this happen? 

One really important thing to mention about this episode: In addition to being a “bummer” episode, it’s also exceptionally funny. The jokes in the show are especially strong, and land exquisitely. Maybe I only think this because I was bracing myself for the darker aspects of this episode as a Clay-aged person whose since become less in-denial about how much of an asshole my own father is. I didn’t like, get emotional or anything, but I was just sorta like “DAMN, YES. HOLY SHIT IT DO BE LIKE THAT”. Mine has never been as bad as Clay, but I’ve witnessed a drunken downward spiral from him more than I care to have. 

The events of this episode (as well as the next) will set the stage for season three, which is thirteen episodes (cut down from twenty) of shows that either take place right before or right after the hunting trip, as well as flashback episodes that are spurred by individual moments within this episode. It’s an ambitious and often emotional journey. There are no less than four episodes of season three that have been known to make me sob. This makes me wonder if I remembered all these moments in this episode that tie into other episodes (Orel’s vague references to whatever deed got him punished in the beginning comes to mind). Complex, non-linear chronology and side-stories are explored. Mountain Goats songs are licensed. I’m not reading ahead so I won’t go too deep into what connects with what in this post. But like Jesus and me, it’s coming (I always immediately bust when I finish a write-up).

To Be Continued (this is me edging).

#adult swim #moral orel #adultswim2021

[collapseqz]

[ OLIVER STARK ] – have you heard about [ MAVERICK ARCHER ]? [ HIM/HIM ] lives at the qz. I think they’ve lived there for [ ONE YEAR ]. they’re [ THIRTY-FOUR ] yrs old and seem very [ RESILIENT ]. i’ve also heard they can be very [CONTROLLING] as well. they’ve been assigned as a [LOOK OUT POST ]. they often daydream about [ HIKING IN THE MOUNTAINS ]. i’m curious to know more. | cory. central. she/her (i changed his negative trait imma send that to the main asap)

BIG MAV IN THE MF BUILDING (his big FINE ASS)

sorry let me stop

let's get into the intro

full name: maverick thomas archer

nicknames: mav, ricky, he doesn't mind any of them (he's been archer basically his whole life he be forgetting he has a first name)

age: OLD (old adjacent, 34 is not actually old but in comparison to the other ages i NORMALLY play it's OLD)

occupation: lookout post

sexuality: yes and often (everyone is ALWAYS welcome)

place where he finds himself the most: the farm area

character inspo: glenn rhee (the walking dead; rip a real one), jake peralta (brooklyn nine-nine), tim riggins (friday night lights), derek hale (teen wolf), connor walsh (how to get away with murder)

cons: ex military man (grew up in it so still has those leftover tendencies), he do be playing too much i'm sorry in advance, can be a deeply unserious individual, extremely flirty (will hit on you and move about his day), can be quick to judge, holds grudges (if he sees that mf from 1st grade it's on sight), can be very intense upon first meeting, overprotective (to the point where it could be...controlling but shush he's hot)

pros: does have patience when it comes to helping people (8 times out of 10), very loyal and reliable (if he really likes/loves you he'd do anything in the world for you), teddy bear once you get to know him (he would want me to put this under cons but he's not in charge i am), he puts the people he really cares about in front of him sometimes (but that's the way he likes it idk)

very charming when he wants to be (aka all the time)

insatiable as the kids say

he is ajax's older presumed dead brother so yes get ready for that

as an old adjacent person he's been around the block a few times so he be KNOWING how people are and treats them accordingly

does not drink but does partake in the CIGS (he does love to people watch, maybe that's why he's lookout)

great combat skills (because military)

he is a lover AND a fighter he believes you can do both

wanted connections

ex long term partner (i'd say like...2ish years at LEAST)

fwb/hookups - current or past

saved them from "infected" (they are called walkers but WHATEVER)

unrequited love (there's something about him pining after someone and they do not want him, i know it's hard but this could be FUN)

anything else we could possibly cook up!!

#do we have an intro tag #am i dumb #about: maverick

[snowdice]

Creased Hoodies (Chapter 3: An Asiago Revelation) [Folds in Time Universe]

Fandom: Sander Sides

Relationships: Logan/Virgil, Janus/Patton (background), Remus & Roman  (background)

Characters:

Main: Logan, Virgil

Appear: Patton, Roman

Mentioned: Janus, Remus

Summary: Virgil just wanted to go on his planned summer research trip to do an anthropological study in 2005 America. However, when he is taken off course by an unknown enemy, he ends up stranded in the summer of 2018 with no way to get back the the 44rd century. Luckily, 2018 happens to be where a certain illegal time agency is based, and he might have an in with one of its agents.

This is the intermission for the story Folds in Paper. It takes place between Folds in Paper Book 1 and Book 2. It also takes place after the first 5 chapter of “Messages for a Hacker” which are side stories in the universe. Check all of this and more out on my Folds in Time Master Post.

Chapter Summary: Virgil reveals some things.

Notes: Time travel AU

This is a fic I’ve been writing on study breaks that you have probably all already seen at this point. I’ve slightly edited it for wording and grammar, but not for content from my previous posts. Feel free to send in asks to direct it because I’m not 100% sure where this is going and you can help decide if you feel so inclined! You can see the process I went through to build this at this link.

Part 1 Part 2

“Would you… like some tea?” Logan asked once Virgil and Patton shuffled into the apartment.

Virgil was peering at him curiously, which was fair since while Logan had seen his face in Silver Mountain University’s directory and then in various video calls, Virgil had never seen Logan’s own. It made Logan feel suddenly out of place and self-conscious. Virgil seemed to be nervous as well, though Logan wasn’t sure if that was due to meeting Logan or the events leading up to meeting him. He was playing with the sleeves of his hoodie. Interestingly, his clothes were probably more in line with what a standard 21st century adult would wear than what Logan or either of his roommates typically wore. Logan could imagine meeting him at a local grocery store: a tired college professor hoping that if he wore unprofessional clothing on the weekends, then maybe his students wouldn’t recognize him while he was buying hot pockets.

Thinking of unprofessional clothing, Logan suddenly felt extremely warm in his fuzzy pajama pants. “I should probably change,” he said, grimacing. “Pat-” he barely kept himself from completing Patton’s name. “Could you put the kettle on?”

Patton was giving him a suspicious look, but Logan chose to ignore that as he dashed out of the living room to get changed and fix his hair. By the time he’d returned, Patton had herded Virgil into a chair. There was a plate with a cookie in front of him. It was chocolate chip. Good, good, Virgil liked chocolate chip. He always got them from the coffee shop on campus whenever he was hungry in the afternoon.

“So,” Logan said, feeling at least a bit more put together now that he’d had a minute to process what had happened and was in presentable clothing. “May I ask what’s going on?”

“I was going on that summer trip to 2005 New York,” Virgil explained, “and my timepiece broke. I didn’t know what to do, but I ran into Pat and recognized him.”

“Ah,” said Logan. “May I see the timepiece?”

“Sure,” Virgil agreed, taking it off of his wrist and handing the watch like device over.

Logan studied the timepiece for a few moments. He tried tapping the display and pushing different buttons, but the device didn’t respond.

“Can you fix it?” Virgil asked, after watching him fiddle around with it.

“Hmm?” Logan asked, having gotten slightly distracted by the brand-new piece of technology in his hands even if the device was currently broken. “Oh. No, absolutely not.”

“What do you mean no?” Virgil asked.

“I have no idea how this is supposed to work. Perhaps I could eventually figure it out, but the technology involved in it is doubtlessly incredibly unfamiliar to me. Paired with the fact that it isn’t currently in working conditions, learning how it works let alone fixing it will take a very long time.”

“B-but you’re time travelers, aren’t you? And you’re the tech person. You don’t know how to fix time travel gear?”

“Oh,” Logan said. “I could fix my time travel gear with the use of one arm in a dark room with no tools, but that does not translate to being able to even turn this on. At least not outright. We’ve found this technology has a completely different pedigree.”

Virgil looked at him, brow pinched, and Logan realized far too late that he might have already said too much. They had agreed as a group after their first run in with the TPI to not let people from the future know when they were from or that their technology came from a completely different source. It was likely to cause more problems than it was worth, especially consider the first interaction they’d had with the time agency from the future and… Virgil did work with them.

“Great,” Virgil muttered. “He can hack into a highly secure database with an iPhone 5 to rearrange my tv show files, but he can’t turn on a fancy watch.”

“It is a bit more than a fancy watch, Virgil,” Logan said with a frown.

“So…” Patton said. He’d taken a seat at the kitchen table and was leaning forward with his chin propped up on his fist. “Do you two… know each other?”

“He is the person who plugged the iPhone Janus stole from you once into a computer,” Logan said.

“Mhmm?” Patton said with that lilt that said he thought Logan was leaving something out. He was correct of course, but it still made Logan scowl at him.

“Virgil Eran,” Patton continued, “as in Janus’s ex-roommate who burned down the apartment.”

“Oh, he fucking would!” Virgil seethed. His eyes lit up in full blow rage which was a new expression to Logan who had never seen him angry before. “I did not burn down the apartment. If anything, it was his fault! Towel with cooking oil my ass!”

“Well,” Patton said, unconcerned with Virgil’s outburst. “At least we have a general idea of when you’re from in case we can’t fix your timepiece and have to drop you off.”

Virgil’s face paled a bit. “Oh god, I would be in so much trouble for illegal time travel.”

Patton laughed. “To be fair, I’d be the one doing the ‘illegal’ time traveling. You’d just be a passenger.”

“I don’t know if they’d see it that way…”

“Well, I can at least attempt to fix it before we try that,” Logan offered.

Patton gave him a look, but it was Virgil who accused, “You just want to know how it works.”

And then Patton was giving Virgil a look. After a few seconds of staring, he was looking at Logan once again even more skeptically.

“Yes, well,” Logan coughed. “It would be mutually beneficial.”

“Also,” Patton cut in. “I’m pretty sure something caused him to crash. So, maybe I shouldn’t be trying any time travel before making sure whatever caused Virgil’s issues don’t cause any for me. I would rather not have another jungle adventure if I can help it.”

“You think it was sabotage?” Logan asked.

“It was too convenient,” Patton replied. “He ended up near a music stage during a concert. The crowd just thought the noise the crash made was an issue with equipment. That seems like it was specifically planned to cover up the crach.”

“Not to mention he happened to land in a time period where we are based,” Logan added. “That is suspicious as well.”

“I’m not a spy!” Virgil interjected.

Logan quirked a lip. “I know, Virgil,” he said. Patton was looking at him again.

“I would be way too anxious to be a spy.”

“I know, Virgil.” Logan said. “It’s possible they were targeting you more than us or all of us.”

“Why would someone target me?” Virgil asked.

“Well, you do work with the TPI,” Logan pointed out. “In particular, with Janus, who has been investigating some of the other time distortions with unknown sources. We’ve been running into those as well.” He paused to think for a moment. “Perhaps we have a common enemy we are not yet aware of.”

Virgil groaned and put his head on the table. “But I don’t want to be all mixed up in time politics bullshit. I want to go to a Panic! At the Disco concert and observe the beginning of YouTube.”

Logan chucked fondly. “Unfortunately, you seem to already be mixed up in it.”

“This is the worst timeline.”

“You could have gotten stuck in pre-history for 2 months,” Patton pointed out.

“Did that happen to you?” Virgil asked, sounding a bit horrified.

“It’s why I’m tanner than usual,” Patton said as though Virgil knew how tan he normally was. “You can ask Janus whenever he gets back from it.”

“And I get back from this.”

“That too.”

“Wait, so, Janus was stuck in pre-history?” Virgil asked.

Patton hummed. “I do have to thank you for dragging him to that club that taught him to make clay pots. It was very helpful.”

It was clear they were intending to continue the conversation in that direction, but before Virgil could say anything else, they were interrupted. The apartment door swung open with the jangle of keys. “I’m back!” the voice of their third roommate called. “I know you said to get whole wheat bread, but you’re boring as hell, so I made the executive decision to buy Asiago cheese instead, and there was a buy one, get one 50% off deal, so I bought 6.”

Roman wandered into the kitchen with his bags full of far too many loafs of bread that Logan did not ask for (and knowing him, likely some other bakery items Logan did not ask for). He paused in the doorway to the kitchen, visibly confused as to why they had a stranger sitting at their kitchen table. Virgil also seemed confused by his presence.

“Remus?” Virgil asked.

Roman froze and his mouth popped open at the sound of his twin brother’s name.

Now, that out of all of the surprises of the day was the most unexpected.

Want to read more? Click below!

Part 4

Folds in Time Universe Master Post

My Main Masterpost

#sanders sides #virgil sanders #analogical #logan sanders #roman sanders #patton sanders #mentioned moceit #mentioned janus sanders #mentioned remus sanders #time travel au #folds in time universe #creased hoodies #adriana writes

[nancypullen]

Progress

We’re making baby steps toward getting this house the way we’d like it.  I think it was Martha Stewart who once said that a house is always a work in progress.  While I agree with that, I’ve always thought that meant adding little things here and there, maybe updating a bathroom or two, or refreshing your color scheme or wall decor.  I want to get to a place where the “work in progress” is just new throw pillows or a pretty plant, ya’ know?  Okay, whine over. I confess that I’ve had fun the last few days.  I’d been on the hunt for a bedside table for Matt’s room.  I wanted something with a little character -  vintage, retro, whatever you want to call it.  I just didn’t want brand new factory-produced stuff.  I had poked around a couple of area antique stores and the stuff I found was either too big too small, too feminine, or too fragile.  I wasn’t having any luck.  Last Sunday we were driving back from dropping off the grandgirl and I was telling the mister all of that.  He asked if I’d looked at Goodwill. I had not.  So he pulled into the local Goodwill parking lot and I found the perfect piece right inside the front door for ten dollars.  Score!   It’s actually an old record cabinet, for storing albums - that made me love it even more.

I brought it home, cleaned it up, and got to work. It only took a couple of Snapped podcasts to get it to this point.

Why yes, that is a mountain of Amazon boxes in the garage.  We’re due for a trip to the recycling center.  Anywho, I put a nice, matte black on that cabinet and replaced the old knobs with these cool leather pulls.

Instead of albums, I filled it with National Geographic magazines because our family is big on National Geo.

And, HALLELUJAH, the carpet installers finally came this morning and I was able to put Matt’s room together.

That little cabinet worked out perfectly!  Whew! Just in time, too. Matt is flying in tomorrow and then the whole fam damily will be here for the holiday weekend.  I still have plenty to do in this room, but for now it will be cool and comfortable for him. I also had time to put a clear coat on that little chair I painted. Then I had to find a fern. I had my heart set on a fern, not flowers.  I figured I could substitute another green plant, I just didn’t want to do flowers, I thought it might be too busy for that multi-colored chair.  No one has ferns for sale in late June, it’s more of a “Hey, it’s spring!” plant.  Most folks have killed their ferns by now.  I crossed my fingers and drove down the road to Clayton’s, a big farm stand with green houses.  Lo and behold they had one fern hanging with a few scraggly leftover plants, and she was half price! Score!  So this sad chair with the broken seat....

is wearing some makeup and sitting on the front porch now.

Yippee!   I love it when things work out. Although we still need to buy granite for the kitchen counters and hopefully get the cabinets painted, I don’t even want to think about it right now. I think we both want a break from begging people to do some work.   I’m going to sleep like a baby tonight.  Most of what has been worrying me is now checked off the to-do list.  Tomorrow I’ll do a big grocery haul. I have forgotten how to feed a crowd. Breakfast, lunch, and dinner for six for several days? I’m thinking taco bar one night, something on the grill another, and everything else I can think of sounds too hot.  Can’t we all just sit around and eat watermelon? I’ll just keep sandwich stuff on hand for lunches, but everyone likes different things for breakfast.  Maybe I should just buy a tub of greek yogurt and some granola and we can do fresh fruit parfaits.  Or maybe I’ll win the lottery tonight and I’ll have the whole weekend catered.  That sounds best. Alright, I’m off to plan menus and make a grocery list. It feels like we’ve made some progress around here and maybe, just maybe, these blog posts will become less whiny and more interesting.  UPS just delivered a curtain rod that I ordered (I wanted one with a French return) so the panels I bought for the sliders will be up soon.  Starting to look like someone lives here!  I’ll keep you posted. I hope that this bit of fluff has distracted you for a few minutes from the craziness of life.  Hang in there, we’re all due for a win.  Good things are coming. I just know it. Stay safe, stay well, stay positive. XOXO - Nancy

[firstofmay23]

Day 2 part 1: Changi-Heathrow-Keflavík

Landed in Changi airport at midnight. I was worried that I might need to book an overnight room which might bankrupt me. But turned out everyone is just sleeping on seats and sofas so might as well do the same. And some of the table were equipped with power plug and since it was midnight finding a decent spot was very easy.

I also realized that in my flight I was the only one carrying mountain backpack in the plane, oops.

But of course, I wasn’t able to sleep properly so I decided to find something to eat

I also bought the fish skin chips to eat later on. Heaven.

And that is only hour 4 of my 12 hours layover. Luckily Changi was pretty convenient so I managed to sneak some more rest, do some work, and get myself coffee. Took a while to board the next plane but I finally did

The flight from Singapore to London was done what…interesting. I sat next to these lovely old Australian couples, didn’t catch their name but I’m pretty sure the wife is called Edna. And in front of me there is this Singaporean family with a very loud kids, and this is where the drama started.

I couldn’t tell you the details because I was half asleep during the whole thing. So the kids in front of my seat was shouting and yelling and to be honest it was pretty annoying but I had zero energy to deal with it and decided to put on my earbuds and get some rest. She was also pushed her seat a little too way back, so when I got my food I was unable to pull out the tray. The wife and husband probably had enough of it and told off the parents that their kid was misbehaving. The flight attendant was there of course, because he was giving out lunch on our row. He tried to talk to the couple and ask about what was happening and managed to calm them down. Very good for him, I would never had the patience to be honest. But after that things got more relaxed, except the occasional crying baby on the front. But then again, earbuds and Rammstein did their thing. As well as my second glass of wine

The rest of the flight was just me eating, drinking wine, watching sandman, wondering when we will land, and an occasional check outside the window to see where in the world am I (literally)

Somewhere in Middle East

Finally it was a couple hours before landing. I’ve been wanting to go to the loo but I don’t feel like moving across two people so usually on a short flight I just wait until we land. But this is a 13 hours flight and I just have to. So when I told the couple that I need to go, their reaction was “so finally you’re going to the loo! We thought you’d never go!” Which was funny to me because they’re probably looking at the amount of drinks I had and was wondering if I was ever going to go. Curious to know what the convo was like.

So finally landed in Heathrow, and sparing no time to rest I went as fast as I could (which was not fast at all) because it’s almost boarding time to Reykjavik, while taking a few pics of the airport for my ‘mom I made it back to London’ moment. And me being me, of course I took a wrong turn and had to walk all the way to the OTHER end of the terminal because I misread the sign. When I finally got to my gate, it’s boarding time already

I don’t know if because it’s my first time flying with it or because it’s a night flight, but Icelandair is a very cute airline. Like small but elegant in a non flashy way. I can’t think of a better way to explain it. I think it’s partly because how the cabin was lit, it was this nice white light with slightly bluish tinge to it. I wish I took some pictures of the interior.

The turbulence was worse than the previous flight. Maybe because we’re going up north, or because the plane was smaller. But when we were about to land, my God it was beautiful. It was dark on one side and sun was setting on the other. But when we finally landed, it was midnight and dark.

#singapore #london #iceland #travel

[wadupkev]

Why I Don’t Share My Birthday

April was by far my favorite month growing up. Selfishly? Maybe, but who doesn’t love their birth month? Mom would make her signature brownies to take to class (back before allergies restricted the love of moms on their children and classmates), I’d be planning my birthday party (maybe even having a co-ed party this year! Eeeeeek!), and looking forward to Christmas round two. April was full of joy, celebration, love, cake, laser tag, sleepovers, hugs, cards in the mail with my name on them, my first crush’s birthday, and all around smiles. It was that way for a long time. I looked forward to it every year. 

Celebrating my friends on their birthdays has also always been something I’ve loved doing. I’ve never been the best gift giver, and even though I joked about it above, my birthday highlights were rarely ever the gifts recieved (not that they were bad gifts). Gift giving ranks as my last love language. Scoring a whopping zero or maybe one each time I retake the test to see how closely mine line up with whomever I am interested in at the time. My celebration of others often comes in the way of quality time and trying to make my friends feel loved and celebrated (although I am certainly not perfect at this and I do forget a birthday here and there and am not proud about it).  It’s become my favorite question to ask people on their birthdays. “Do you feel loved and celebrated?" We deserve to feel both of those things as humans. Those are two things that I think the world would be better to fully embrace but I also recognize that those two words can mean very different things to very different people so let me break down what I mean when I say "loved and celebrated".

Loved. Feeling loved means having people who care for your well being, sit with you in the suck, party with you on the mountain top, and tell you how it is. They don’t gas you up just because you’re friends, they don’t always approve of your actions (because love and approval do not go hand and hand), and they challenge you to help you grow, not tear you down. Calling a friend in a time of need or even when you haven’t talked in a while, keeping up with your people, being curious and asking questions (a lot of questions!) about their past experiences, current circumstances, futures hopes and dreams, telling them you love them (not “love you”, but “I love you” because we all need to hear that), giving them a hug, saying you appreciate them, spending quality, undisturbed, time with them are all ways to show love. All of these things you can do with people you don’t see eye to eye with. I recognize saying this might bring up some emotions in you, but I want this to be super clear, especially to those of you reading this who claim Jesus and Christianity. I read once that you should “love the sinner and hate your own sin”. We aren’t called to judge. We are called to love. In very few cases are we to even bring up the actions of another to them or the church. You know the whole plank in your own eye scripture right? That applies to you. We are called to love and that means your neighbor who voted a different way than you did and has the sign in their front lawn. That means inviting people in to your home to break bread at the dinner table even though some people at your church might say they shouldn’t be there. That means not only ever spending time around people who believe the same thing as you. Jesus dined with sinners. He had them at the dinner table all the time. He showered them in love. Note that he didn’t sin with sinners, but he ate dinner with them. He spent time around them. He loved them a lot. But guess what? You are the them that he spent time with. And not to rank sin or anything, but he spent time with people who murdered others, who cheated their neighbors, who literally put him to death. To love someone and show them love means to not put a filter over the people that get your love. Otherwise no one really gets the love. And don’t be shy with it. Give it to everyone, all the time. All the love, all the time. Christian or not, our world would look so much brighter with unfiltered love from everyone. 

Celebrated. Celebration! To celebrate someone means to honor them! To remind them they are unique, special, loved and needed. Our birthdays are such an amazing time to party with friends in celebration. Party however you chose. Hearing from friends, getting taken to dinner, having a cake made for you, you know the feeling! You can feel it a bit right now just reading those words! It feels so good. Notice that this doesn’t say to celebrate someone means to agree with everything they do. No, in fact, it’s the opposite. It’s putting aside those differences and acknowledging that we all could use to feel celebrated once in a while and it just so happens that we have a birthday every year. However, this should not dictate how many times you should celebrate others or be celebrated. Once a year is far to little. Celebrate the small things. There are two ways to see life. One, as though nothing is a miracle or two, as if everything is a miracle. Joy overflows from a heart ready to celebrate the everyday miracle. Party and celebrate whenever possible.

For the longest time, really up until now, I’ve not wanted to be loved and celebrated on my birthday. Even now it feels a bit weird. As a kid, I loved it. Staying up late with the guys for a sleepover, TP’ing our crushes house, playing Rock Band til 3am, Facebook posts from the random person who you met once at an event years ago, all things I loved to do and experience. In high school, April started getting a little cloudy for me. Things started happening in and around my birthday that made me shell up and made me want to avoid the Facebook posts, text messages, calls and cakes. April 17th, 2011, my grandma on my mom’s side passed away. She was my first grandparent that I remember spending a significant amount of time with. A true legend and a very loving woman. April 7th, 2012, a good friend that I looked up to passed away in a climbing accident. Another rockstar, who loved others so well and pushed me in my faith. April 17th, 2013 a friend of mine that I met and spent time with on a trip to South Africa passed away in an apparent suicide. Someone who made the shock of what we experienced in Africa palatable in a unique way. After the second year in a row in just felt like something wrong was going to happen close to my birthday and it did. It didn’t feel good. I was confronted with death in a way I had never experienced it before. It was hard. I remember vaguely going into college, gathering friends together on my birthday to be around the people I loved, which was great and healthy and should have been what I kept doing, but I started feeling some guilt for celebrating during the time that it felt like I should be honoring these people who had passed. It might sound silly but it was what I was feeling.

Since then it has been something I have forcibly kept quiet. People ask when my birthday is and I try to gauge if its a conversation where they are going to remember after the conversation what I said or not. I would try to get away just with saying “April” hoping that answer would suffice for why they were asking. It often wasn’t enough and I would timidly say that I don’t like to share it. That would typically be met with confusion or more questioning trying to get me to spill the beans. Sometimes people even reach for my wallet to check my ID. As I look back I don’t blame them at all, I really don’t. I myself often try to find out quickly when someones birthday is and try to put it somewhere that will allow me to remember it. I just bought a perpetual calendar and I am pumped about it. I am not scared to use reminders. If you can remember everyones birthday off the top of your head, you’re a genius unicorn. Good for you. I am no unicorn and need all the help I can get. Even then I forget sometimes. But in the moment, for a long time, it was a how-long-can-I-keep-this-quiet kind of topic for me. Coasting through the years, getting a call or text from a few people on my birthday, keeping it a secret from the rest of the people I met was how I operated. I am not super proud of that, but it was how I dealt with the things that happened around that month.

I used my Ironman in 2018 as a crutch to look past my birthday towards another date in April. A distraction of sorts. But since then, I have started to question why I keep the date a secret. It really started with my mom prying and asking why I didn’t share it, asking why it wasn’t on Facebook or why I wasn’t inviting people over anymore. Telling me in the most mom loving way to “Get over it. Everyone deserves to be celebrated”. And after a while I started to believe her. I started to see how if I love to celebrate others, others love to do the same and in a way I am depriving them of the chance to show love in a way that they know how. It was selfish of me to do. We also have been reading recently in book club about the importance of keeping up relationships. How loneliness is an epidemic leading to and a cause of nearly all major diseases. Having and living in healthy community can boost your health significantly. That isn’t just mental health either! Your body will operate better living in rich community close to or in the area you live. Yes, FaceTime is great, but nothing replaces submersion and quality time with people you see daily, that love you for you, who live physically close to you. Boy oh boy is that hard to build as an adult! Isn’t it just easier to have the night to yourself, lock the door, crack open a bottle of wine and enjoy some Netflix? It takes several decisions to get off work and go home to change, take a quick breath and then leave again to do something with people you just met and have no idea if you even like yet while going through the painful small talk that seems to revolve around the same few topics with nearly everyone it happens with. Saying you hate small talk is not a personality trait. It can be painful, but it is necessary in every relationship other than maybe your Uber Eats driver (speaking as one myself). Embrace it and find a way to have fun with it. How many questions can you get in to someone before they ask you something about yourself? It can be fun. Making friends as an adult can be far from fun until it happens or until you find the community that you click with. That you ~vibe~ with. Emphasis added for anyone younger than me reading this. However, it is so crucial to sit in the “unfun” for a little bit. We have gotten so soft trying to make everything in our lives comfortable and easy. Just because making friends, in a city you know little about and maybe know even fewer people isn’t the easiest thing in the world does not mean you should resort to dinner and tv by yourself every night. Be uncomfortable for a little bit. Suck it up. Or as Mama Flanegin wisely said, “Get over it”. Seriously! I don’t mean to sound harsh, or make my mom sound harsh. She is the sweetest woman out there. But your life is at stake here! Make some friends. Create community. Dive deep into getting to know who the people around you are. Do things together. Create those bonds! Send the text inviting your neighbors over. How sad is it that most people do not even know the names of the people they live right next to! Our doors should not be something that we shut to block us from the rest of the world and give ourselves privacy, but a doorway into relationship for those who live around you. You have to be the one to do this because rarely is your neighbor going to be. And if they are then lucky you, accept the invite. Show up. Don’t flake. Go to the Taco Night!

Two of my friends, Nate and Suz,  started hosting a Taco Night every Thursday night because someone did that for them before they moved cities. It happens every Thursday night. Look on their calendar and you will see it every Thursday. They make time for it. It is consistent, it is easy, they don’t ask you to bring anything (although it would be kind if you did). They tell you to bring whoever you want and they mean it. All they want is for you to be at their table. And their table might be messy when you show up. They may not have a dinner party outfit on but Rosaria Butterfield in her incredible book, The Gospel Comes with a House Key, says that “Hospitality is necessary whether you have cat hair on the couch or not. People will die of chronic loneliness sooner than they will cat hair in the soup”. You have to be the one to do this. Take it on. You can do it! The people around you are craving it. We all want to be a part of community. Few ever take the initiative to do something about it. You have the ability to be a literal lifesaving agent in peoples lives. And all of this is good practice even outside of loving Jesus. But for those of us that claim Jesus? This should be, no question, a critical part of your life and your ministry.  Not because you want to change someones mind on what they believe, but because this is exactly what Jesus did.

I want to be careful to not make this an ego thing for me. I recognize that this blog could be seen as someone begging for attention on his birthday or hoping to finally get flooded with calls and texts. I promise I do not need those things to fill some attention need. To me, this is just me getting something off my chest. Writing has always helped me do that and I hope that if you have read all the way to here, that you too get something out of this. This is an unloading of a bit of real life that has made for a weirdly tensioned month in my world for a while. A way to get back to normal. Back to looking forward to this month as a chance to reconnect with so many people that I love. Back to feeling loved and celebrated. To eat a few brownies with my friends. That is my hope. I promise to get back to you if you FaceTime, or call or voice memo, or text on my birthday. Know now that it means the world to me. I would love to hear how you are doing, what’s going on in your life, what made you smile today and what songs you're listening to or even what's making you hurt a little bit.

Thank you for taking the time to read this. I am taking some time away from social media besides getting on to get this story out there so if you did read this and wouldn’t mind, shoot me a text or call or whatever. I would really appreciate it. I genuinely would love to hear from you. Yes, you! You reading this who maybe we haven’t talked in years. 719-231-9006.

My birthday is April 18th and for the first time in a while I am truly looking forward to that day.

I am so grateful for you. I love you. The good Lord loves you. Let’s party.

All the love.

#birthday #celebration

[god-whispers]

jan 3

i believe; help my unbelief

"immediately the father of the child cried out and said with tears, "Lord, i believe; help my unbelief!" mark 9:24

"Jesus said to him, “if you can believe, all things are possible to him who believes." mark 9:23  that was the word of Jesus to a father long ago and He still speaks that to us today.

like it or not we all struggle with a measure of unbelief.  is it really God's will for this?  do i have to believe this thing into existence?  i am not among those great saints of faith described in the book of hebrews.  those "who through faith subdued kingdoms, worked righteousness, obtained promises, stopped the mouths of lions, quenched the violence of fire, escaped the edge of the sword, out of weakness were made strong, became valiant in battle, turned to flight the armies of the aliens.  women received their dead raised to life again." heb 11:33-35

i stand as a pauper among princes of faith.  and yet, our Lord exhorts us further: "for assuredly, I say to you, whoever says to this mountain, 'be removed and be cast into the sea,’ and does not doubt in his heart, but believes that those things he says will be done, he will have whatever he says." mark 11:23

perhaps our mouth will speak it but are our hearts really doubting?  i ask this of myself as much as others.  as my mother lay dying in my arms, i think my heart believed i could call her back, but i wasn't sure i could call her back healed.  i saw her remaining in a tortuous state.  how insane is that; the limits we put on a limitless God?

the word of God says, "assuredly, I say to you, if you have faith as a mustard seed, you will say to this mountain, ‘move from here to there,’ and it will move; and nothing will be impossible for you." matt 17:20  when Jesus adds "assuredly" before anything, that means it is a certainty.  and a mustard seed?  it is said to be one of the smallest seeds of all that grows large enough to allow birds to nest in it.

no, faith doesn't begin as something great.  unless one receives a gift of faith from God, like the mustard seed, it needs to grow into something great.  if one can't believe for a headache to be healed, how will they ever be able to believe for cancer?

i think again of my early walk in the things of the spirit.  i've told this before but the Lord is leading me to tell it again.  there was a pecan tree in my front yard that had been overrun with bagworms threatening to destroy it.  even as gideon fleeced God, one day i stood under that pecan tee and commanded all the worms to fall to the ground and bear no fruit.  nothing happened immediately.  several days later as i entered the house, suddenly i notice there were no more bagworms on the tree.  they had indeed all fallen to the ground.

i have heard it said, get a baby christian to pray for you and you are more likely to get an answer; maybe because they're simple enough to believe, and maybe because God wants to show Himself strong.  either way, i don't believe that.  God has a reason for everything He does and all things are in the right time and in the right place.

they say building one's faith is like building muscles; use it or lose it.  i sit here today having know a few victories in the Lord.  i also sit here in a wheelchair, unable to walk a step without falling.  by faith i am still believing for restoration knowing all things are in His timing; in the fullness of time.  i will not give up on His promises.  my prayers may never see another one answered but that will not stop me praying.  that will not stop me believing in His promises.

in my bible, in the book of psalm. i have carefully gone through and marked each scripture using the word "wait."  i believe and i patiently wait for the fulfillment of His word to me.  i await the fulfillment of this promise:  "but those who wait on the Lord shall renew their strength; they shall mount up with wings like eagles, they shall run and not be weary, they shall walk and not faint." isa 40:31  someday i shall walk.  someday i shall fly - right into His waiting arms.  come fly with me.

the leper came before Jesus pleading, "'Lord, if You are willing, You can make me clean.'  then Jesus put out His hand and touched him, saying, “I am willing; be cleansed.”  matt 8:2-3  yes, He is willing.  Lord, i believe!  help my unbelief.  help all our unbelief.  even so, come quickly Lord Jesus!

[wepreeshjohnegbert]

Selfie by a mountain!

#preesh art #mod sky #homestuck #john egbert #homestuck john #homestuck john egbert #haaaa this was done in under half an hour i’m getting better #also maybe i put him in front of a mountain because i’ve been called mountain a lot in acnh..? #animal crossing new horizons i mean #people have been calling me mountain #and teddy calls me champ #teddy actually gave me the name mountain and then as soon as it started to spread he switched to champ #how funny is that? #anyway yeah i don’t have many ideas nowadays so i’m just going with whatever #that and i’m juggling doing this everyday and johnkat month on main #two drawings a day my poor hand and phone screen hhh #anyway i hope you all like it!! sorry drawings have been lazy lately ^^ #it’s hard doing two a day :D #i also got college coming up soon so that’s fun : #i was gonna do a tear smiley face and then i forgot you can’t use commas in tags :/ #so here’s this instead :’) #there we go!! :D #also this is a repost because it didn’t show up in the tags haha #i put in the same tags and everything #and it still won’t show up in the tags but it’s alright i guess :P

[sukirichi]

black magic [01]

REQUEST. arranged marriage + enemies to lovers (sukuna is a simp and lowkey a housewife)

CONTENT/WARNINGS. some suggestive scenes, but overall fluff and romance! slight crack fic, I guess? I was laughing when I wrote this lol

NOTES. I NEED A HUSBAND! SUKUNA I’M GOING TO CRY GOODBYE THIS HAS ME SOFT. also anon i’m not sure if you wanted something with more ~sexual tension~ since this is kind of just comedic, but I hope you like it anyway!

part one | part two (nsfw)

“This is new,” you comment with a glare, your ankle propped on Sukuna’s knee.

“Shut up,” he rolls his eyes, pushing your skirt aside to clean the wounds you attained through exorcising curses. You’ve taken a particularly strong curse today and you’re caught off guard, barely finishing the mission unscathed. Limping all the way back home isn’t easy especially since you live on top of the darned mountain, but if Sukuna’s going to kneel in front of you like this...maybe it wasn’t too tough a journey. “You should stop going to missions you’re not ready for. Look at you, all wounded and bloody.”

“You sound like you care.”

“You’re my wife,” he huffs while dropping the bloody towel on the floor. Sukuna wraps the bandage around your ankle and carries you bridal style even though you’re perfectly capable of walking, but he shoots you a silencing glare. You’d have knocked him in the face any other day, but he’s particularly warm and smells nice today – plus you’re beat – that you bury your face in his chest, ignoring that stupid fluttering in your stomach. “Of course I do.”

You snicker, mind tracing back to your earlier years of this dreaded marriage.

It definitely wasn’t the best – the memories blurring between strangling each other to making out as if breathing was never a thing – and it felt like forever ago when you first met him.

You’d never say it out loud, but... you don’t regret this arranged marriage. Not when Sukuna is tucking himself beside you on the bed, your head above his muscular chest a place similar to home. He covers both your bodies over with a blanket, pulling your body closer to him with a strong arm, his lips pressing onto the crown of your head.

Ugh, you think to yourself, giving in to the need to cuddle your husband after a long day of work. You still refuse to say it out loud, though, and you irk him further by muttering, “That’s not what you said two years ago.”

“I wasn’t in love with you then.”

 “I refuse to be married to you!”

Sukuna fights back the urge to cover his ears. Ever since your clan decided to visit his land and started exorcising curses one by one, his life has been nothing but hell. Not only are your relatives the most arrogant people ever with a consistent god complex, they just had to let their little mortal child be in charge of taking on the stronger curses. Seriously, what were they thinking, sending you – who’s barely even out of their training bra years – to deal with curses like him?

Everyone knows Sukuna is a no bullshit man. He won’t hesitate to cut your head off the moment you came raging at him, but then he sees how young you are and decides to send you back to your family.

Expecting that everyone would just call it a day and he’d get offerings for his unexpected mercy, Sukuna is beyond stupefied when they send you back to his temple, all dressed pretty with a basket of fruits and flowers braided in your hair. He remembers growling because you look adorable, but that’s easily wiped away when you open your mouth, your voice scratchy against his ears as you stomp your feet like the young mortal you are.

Sukuna pushes a thumb to his forehead to ease the impending headache, and that’s just from your presence. Something inside him tells that you’re going to be a bigger pain than you look.

“You don’t have much of a choice. You should’ve thought of that before deciding to run rampage over my land,” he reminds, turning boredly to his lone servant from above his throne. Sukuna isn’t impressed, to say the least, especially with your clan’s audacious proposition to gain his favour just this once. “Is this really the woman you bring me – the one they insist to be my wife?”

“She is their best fighter, my Lord.”

Well, he can’t disagree to that. You did, after all, single-handedly give him a cut on the cheek. “She’s feisty indeed.”

“Don’t talk as if I’m not here!”

“Mouthy too,” he mumbles to himself, but your sorcerer senses are sharp and easily picks up on it. He sees you flush angry again, looking immensely adorable with your tiny fists clenched like that and he snorts, waving a hand in the air. “Whatever. Get the wedding over with,” he nods to his servant, his sigh loud and tired as he makes his way to you.

You don’t stiffen at each haunting step, his eyes only glimmering harder with entertainment. It’s rare to find a mortal that doesn’t quiver at the sight of him, the urge to break you only growing stronger.

Even as he cups your face, making sure to not let his claws dig into your precious skin, Sukuna smirks. You’ll be entertaining indeed.

So Sukuna makes a promise, four eyes surveying the way your body is starting to fill in curves at the right places, the swell of your flesh just perfect in his hands... He chuckles to himself, daunting you further as he leans down to your ear, taking pleasure in the slight way your breath hitches. “Maybe then I’ll get to teach you a lesson or two.”

You’re definitely something else, taking advantage of each presented opportunity and not wasting any time before you make your move. Right after the wedding and everyone’s left, leaving you alone with your new husband behind closed doors; you push him until he’s on the ground, legs straddling each side of his hips while you growl above him – the sound similar to a battle cry.

Sukuna merely smirks, barely moving a muscle as his large hands come up to rest on your hips to steady you. “I’ve imagined countless ways you’d be on top of me like this,” his eyes light up with humour upon feeling the cold blade on his skin, “None of them included a knife on my neck though.”

“Shut your mouth. I will kill you myself,” you warn, pressing your knife harder until it draws a slight tinge of blood.

You hardly look threatening above him like this, dolled up to look the best in your wedding with this cursed being. If anything, you look more divine than deadly, and Sukuna thinks that perhaps your beauty could be your best weapon. You are bewitching, after all.

“I refuse to be your Queen and sit next to your throne.”

“Then why didn’t you stop the wedding?”

“I—”

Sukuna’s teasing grin grows wider when you pull back, trying so hard to not trip over your words. It takes all of his self-restraint to not take you right then and there, but he does a good job of holding back, enjoying this view above him instead. “Could it be you’re attracted to me after all, hm, little one?”

“Do not test me, Curse. I’m more than capable of exorcising you myself.”

“Oh, I don’t doubt that. You’re the strongest in the Gojo clan, are you not?” he prompts to appease you, “I don’t even want to see what you’re capable of, but maybe, just maybe...” just as his eyes darken, the edges of his lips turning up into a smirk, Sukuna digs his claws into your thigh in a possessive show of ownership, a painful reminder that you’re his now. “...You could put on a little show for me?”

“I hate you!”

Experienced and strong as you are, you’re nothing compared to a thousand year old curse who’s killed a lot more people faster than you could blink. Sukuna immediately notices the animalistic way you draw your blade, arm swung back with rage written all over your face. Before you could so much as bat an eye, he easily switches the positions until you’re under him, using only one hand to pin your arms above your head, your blade effortlessly thrown to the other side of the room.

“As I thought, you’re a lot prettier under me like this,” he observes, roaming his eyes shamelessly over the fabric clinging prettily to your body. You’ve fallen silent at his unconcealed attention, your compliance enticing him to lean closer just to inhale your intoxicating scent.

“Not so feisty now, little one? Where’d all your hatred for me go?” Sukuna pulls back with widened eyes, “Oh? Am I hearing it wrong or is your pathetic human heart beating so loud right now?” You refuse to look at him, wriggling your hips in an attempt to leave, completely unaware that the mere movement is hypnotizing the curse above you. Sukuna grips your hips in warning, not wanting to destroy you – not now, anyway. “You know all you need to do is say it. I’d gladly take you right here and then.” His words spoken with that deep, throaty voice immediately sends a wave of heat down your core, but you turn away from him, breathing hard and nervously; something Sukuna picks up on in an instant. “Little one...have you never had a man hold you like this before?”

“N-no...”

“I see. Pure and innocent behind that ferocity, huh?” He surprises you by pulling away, smoothening his white robes down as he leaves you panting still on the floor. “Fine. I won’t touch you unless you ask me to.”

“I’d rather die before that ever comes out from my mouth.”

“We’ll see about that,” he smirks, winking at you before he shuts the door. “Little one.”

There’s a lot of weird – and utterly inconvenient things – about being Sukuna’s wife. The man eats everything, absolutely everything, and it doesn’t help that he sucks at hunting too. For a man so huge and burly, he sure is lazy, preferring to do the laundry in the riverside instead while you go out every day to prepare your meals.

You actually don’t mind, but it’s very fun to complain around him.

You’re on your way back to the temple when Sukuna grabs at you, making you drop the freshly caught birds onto the ground. Your brows furrow, about to scold him for being too eager again when Sukuna stares at your arm, his lips pressing into a thin line.

Following his line of sight, your lips form an ‘o’ shape. There’s blood trickling down your forearm from his claws accidentally cutting you, guilt written all over his face. Another weird thing about Sukuna is that he babbles a lot when he’s emotional, and you’re too tired to hear him beat himself over it that you just drag him inside your room, sitting his ass down before taking a clipper.

Sukuna scoffs when you start cutting his nails. It irks him that you don’t even bother wiping the blood off first and he tsks, eyes narrowed at you. “You should have thicker skin.”

You roll your eyes as you file his nails; you’ve been married to him long enough to know it’s his way of saying sorry. Not wanting to let him wallow in guilt any louder, you pad kisses over his knuckles before swiping the black ink off your desk, using a pen brush to colour your nails instead. Sukuna hovers behind you, head tilted to the side as he watched you. “Are you painting your nails black?” he utters in disbelief, trying to ignore the fact he feels...proud and even a little smug. “Not so fitting for the angelic sorcerer now, isn’t it?”

“I’m only doing this so you don’t feel left out.”

“Maybe I’ll add markings to your pretty face too,” he cups your jaw to make you turn to him, landing a solid kiss flat to your lips which makes you sigh, pretending to be annoyed but leaning over for another peck anyway. Sukuna laughs and pulls you onto his lap, kissing your neck this time around, a little annoyed that you don’t stop in brandishing your nails. “Wife, what do you think?”

“I have work, Sukuna. You flirting with me doesn’t change the fact I need to go.”

“Come home safe for me, at least?” he breathes down your neck, his touch sending shivers down your spine. You’ve definitely changed since the first time he’s met you, starting from a mean (although he stands strong that you are still mean to him sometimes) temperamental little one to a mature, stronger sorcerer who’s secretly weak for his wife.

Unable to resist him as always, you turn around once you’ve finished painting your nails, rubbing your nose over his until your strong, scary husband is turning into putty at your hands. “Of course I will,” you peck his lips one last time, Sukuna’s eyes closing as he dives in for a deeper kiss. “I’ll always come back home to my handsome husband.”

If anyone were to ask how it’s possible that the King of Curses is actually very soft for his sorcerer wife, everyone would claim it’s impossible and a heresy – but if you ask Sukuna, it’s probably just black magic doing its wonders.

#sukuna x reader #ryoumen sukuna x reader #jujutsu kaisen #jujutsu kaisen x reader #jujutsu kaisen imagines #ryoumen sukuna x reader imagines #ryoumen sukuna x reader fluff #jujutsu kaisen fluff #sukuna fluff #sukuna x reader fluff #sukuna x reader romance #sukuna imagines #ryoumen sukuna imagines #ryoumen sukuna fluff #sukuna x you #sukuna x you imagines #sukuna x you fluff #jjk #jjk x reader #suki: 500 milestone event #suki: scheduled

[lollypopsx]

Flatmate! Harry: I’ll Make It Up To You - Part 1

Warnings: Swearing, slight angst 

Please like if it’s not too shabby, reblog for anyone who may enjoy this and follow if you want to see more! Any suggestions are happily taken for future writing! I love you all! be safe and be kind x

Part 2 - Part 3

—————————

You was going to kill him. This was the last straw and you had used up every ounce of patience today.

“Harry Edward Styles! Get in here right now or I swear to fucking god you won’t ever breath again!” You shout, your hands clutching the towel wrapped around your body. Your hair styled in a bouncy blow dry with a full face of makeup, a brown smoky eye and a nude lip.

The two of you bicker and argue like enemies, laugh like the best of friends and love each other like a married couple. Although you were only flat mates and nothing had ever gone further than friends, you knew Harry would never see you in that way, however the tiniest part of you had always hoped one day you’d be proven wrong. But you knew all along you’d rather have him as a best friend than lose him all together.

You hear the footsteps round the corner and a grin like the Cheshire Cat plastered on Harrys face “Do you mind? I’m trying to write some music Y/N” he smirks.

“Where the hell are all my clothes?! And where the fuck is my guitar?!” You shout angrily. You were no stranger to practical jokes in this house, both giving and receiving them. But today was different. You had the most important audition of your lifetime, and half of your room had been emptied. 

The laughter escaping Harry’s lips was making you angrier and angrier by the second. “I told you that you’d regret stealing my jumpers!” He smirks.

“That doesn’t mean you take everything I own! Now where to hell is it all?!”

“Ah now you see…this is where it gets fun…you see we’ve made you a little scavenger hunt to find it all. All you have to do is-”

“We?! Who’s we?!” You growl through gritted teeth.

“Ok ok…I can’t take all the credit for this…Niall helped. So…here’s the rules!”

“Harry!” You cut him off “I don’t have time for a fucking scavenger hunt! I have my audition in an hour and I’m already running late! Just get me some fucking clothes and my guitar so I can leave!”

As soon as you had mentioned your audition, the smug grin fell from Harrys face and his rosy cheeks had drained to pale “oh shit. T-that’s today?! I…I thought it was Friday” he frowns “w-well all your stuff is in Niall’s car and he’s in Brighton so I can just get him to drive back asap and…” he fumbles for his phone quickly.

“Brighton?! Harry you have 3 seconds to tell me this is a joke before I rip your pretty little head off! That’s 2 hours away Harry! I’ll never make it in time!”

“Y/N I’m so sorry! I am I really am, I would never have done this today if I knew” Guilt filling his eyes.

“You knew Harry! It’s written on the fridge, on the calendar and you helped me rehearse two days ago!”

“Why don’t I just go and buy you something to wear?” He offers, although he was currently terrified to speak incase his head really did get ripped off. He hadn’t seen you this angry since you pierced holes in three of your ex-boyfriends tyres after finding out he cheated.

“Well that’s pointless because I haven’t got my guitar and you don’t even have your acoustic guitar here. Forget it Harry. Just get out.” You mutter, your head hanging low in disappointment. Even if you left now you’d be late, and that was frowned upon. Turning up anywhere late was bad enough, let alone an audition. If you’re going to turn up late, then there’s no point turning up at all because you wouldn’t even be given a chance. The entertainment business was a difficult place to be, and this was your one chance to really make something bigger for yourself and it was ruined.

“Y/N I…”

“I said get out!” You scream, releasing the built up fury “go and join Niall in Brighton for all I fucking care. Leave me alone. I’m so disappointed Harry” you felt the tears threatening to spill down your cheeks.

The sight of you on the verge of tears was enough to break his heart. He wanted to protest, he wanted to make it all better. But he knew you too well. He knew if he didn’t leave you alone to calm down then it would make everything worse than it already was. He had never felt so guilty. In the 4 years you had lived together, practical jokes never made either of you angry. Sure they were embarrassing at times, but you two always had the best of times. At what made it even worse this time was that he had made you cry…and you’d used the ‘D’ word on him!

Harry had left, shutting the front door quietly as he headed to the studio to get out of your hair for a few hours. Also calling Niall in the process to get him to get the fuck home asap. It may have seemed like a pretty extreme joke, but they didn’t intend it to turn out this way. The plan was that the scavenger hunt would lead you to Brighton with Harry to meet Niall there, and the three of you would spend the day and night by the beach, shopping, drinking, eating...everything that you loved to do.

As hours passed, you found yourself tucked under the mountain of blankets on the sofa, wearing a pair of Harry’s boxers, joggers and a white hoodie. Which you purposely chose because your makeup rubbed off on the collar and the sleeves as you wiped your tears. 

You felt deflated and disappointed. You should have been more prepared...no actually, Harry shouldn’t of been a dick. You knew he didn’t mean to jeopardize your audition, but these auditions didn’t come along often and part of you just wasn’t ready to let this go yet.

Harry crept in quietly, although you didn’t hear him, or at least you didn’t want to. “ Hey...Y/N” he whispers softly, walking through the living room door cautiously.

“Hm?” you mutter, not allowing yourself to speak a word to him, and especially making sure your eyes were glued to Netflix, not giving him the satisfaction of paying attention.

“I...I got you these” He whispers, placing a big bouquet of red roses and white lilies on the glass coffee table in front of you. You looked straight passed them “Oh wow...maybe I should send these over to the directors and producers to say sorry and maybe they can make an exception for little Y/N to try again!” you state sarcastically, but your facial expression staying as blank as possible.

He sighs softly and perches himself on the arm of the sofa, he gently pulls your shoulders back for you to rest your back against his thigh. “I know it doesn’t change what I did Y/N, and believe me if I could of changed anything I would, and if I could turn back time, I’d do anything”

“You really fucked up Harry” you whisper, your voice cracking gently as you wiped your tears on the sleeve of his hoodie. “You don’t get it. You’re Harry Styles and you get everything handed to you on a plate because everyone already knows who you are! You’ve done what like...three auditions in your life and you’ve succeeded every single one. It’s not like that for me. I spent hours and hours practicing. And weeks just writing these songs in hope they get heard one day and now they won’t because word spreads really quick in this industry.” You still couldn’t bring yourself to look into his eyes, because you hated people seeing you cry. 

He sighed softly, staying silent as he pulled you up gently and sitting himself underneath you as he wrapped his arms around you tightly. He was always the first to help you rehearse when you had an audition, the first to comfort you if it went wrong or you didn’t succeed, and the first to celebrate and congratulate you when you did get it. Unfortunately, this time no one will ever know how it would have gone. He knew he couldn’t say much else because he knew you were right.  

You wanted to resist, but instead you buried your face into his chest and whimpered softly. As disappointed as you were, you knew Harry was truly sorry and he’d hang onto this guilt for a while. He held you close as his gentle fingers raked through your hair.

“I’ve put everything back in your room, all folded and neat” He whispers “I’ll make it up to you. I promise” He kept his arms around you supportively, although his chest was heavy with guilt, he already had a plan conjuring in his mind. 

—————————

#harry styles #harry styles imagine #one shot #hslot #flatmate!harry #roommate!harry #angst #lollypopsx #fanfic #imagine #harry styles x reader #harry styles x y/n #harry styles angst #harry styles fluff #one direction

[fandom-puff]

A Lion’s Feast

Pairing: tywin lannister x younger!wife!reader

Requested by: anon ‘Could you write a modern au for tywin lannister x younger wife reader. Maybe they have a Lannister family dinner and its all just chaotic.’

Notes: I didn’t end up doing this as a modern AU, because I found it easier to work with everything in like... Westerosi time frame, but I hope this is okay.

Warnings: older man/younger woman, political/arranged marriage, Joffrey, use of words like slut/whore etc (cheers, Cers), reference to Jaime and Cersei’s incest, awkward family dinner

Gif creds to owner

“We will be dining in the Queen’s chambers tonight,”

You tensed up, staring straight ahead as you walked through the gardens of the Red Keep with your lord husband. “Am I… in trouble?” You asked softly. You were new to King’s Landing, shipped over from the Vale to marry the Lord of Casterly Rock, and you weren’t quite used to the way King Joffrey’s court worked.

“No. I’ve arranged for us to dine together as a family. You have not properly met my children and grandchildren. You are a Lannister by marriage, you are their mother-in-law, whether they like it or not, and it’s high time we acted like it,” his voice had a bitter edge to it; it hadn’t taken long for Queen Cersei to make her distaste clear. While no one in court would dare insult Tywin Lannister, the girl from the Vale was an easy target for gossip. You had been called every name under the sun, but the Queen’s favourite jibe was ‘whore’.

“Alright,” you murmured, lowering your eyes. You knew there would be no point in arguing. You had quickly learnt that when your husband put his mind to something, there was no turning back. As a few men of the court crossed your path, you felt Tywin’s hand come to rest on the small of your back, and it did not move until you were in the tower of the Hand. You smiled softly as you caught sight of the steaming tub of hot water, scented with sweet oils as you entered your bedroom. “You’ve had this all planned out, haven’t you, my Lord?” You asked, a small smirk gracing your lips. “You should’ve just told my handmaidens to do it in my chambers, to save the walk up all of those stairs,”

Tywin smiled ever-so-slightly. “You’re hardly ever in your own chambers downstairs, wife,” he reminded you.

“Only because you’re the only person I really know in this godforsaken keep, and even then I don’t know you that well. Besides, if I stayed in my own chambers, I’d get lost and end up in the maze of dragon skulls below the keep,”

Tywin smirked, giving you a little push by the small of your back. “Bathe. Wear red, and preferably rubies and gold,” he said sternly. You sighed, knowing Tywin wanted you to dress the part, to look like the Lady of Casterly Rock. You bathed and dried, perfuming your skin and hair before pulling on your smallclothes, calling in your handmaiden to tighten your bodice, then help lace up your dress. It was a deep red, with golden embroidery on the bodice and cuffs that glimmered when you moved, just covering your shoulders and showing the swell of your breasts, and you fastened a pendant around your neck- a golden lion with tiny rubies for its eyes, tongue and claws. You braided back the front of your hair, but let the rest fall down over your shoulders.

You emerged from the room into Tywin’s main office, your hands folded in front of you. He surveyed you briefly before nodding, offering his arm.

**

You sat in silence as you ate, eyes fixed on your plate. Tywin was sat to your left, Jaime to your right. Cersei and Joffrey occupied the heads of the table, and Tyrion sat across from you, in between Myrcella and Tommen.

“More wine, my Lady?” Tyrion said out of the blue, holding up the jug. He gave you a slight smile, knowing how you must feel to be the outcast, like a stranger with the people you were meant to call family.

“I... yes, please. Thank you, my Lord,” you said.

Tyrion smiled as he poured, before filling his own glass. “Just Tyrion will suffice. Let us leave formality at the door,” you smiled slightly and nodded.

“I agree,” said Jaime, earning himself a sharp look from Cersei, who was used to her twin almost always siding with her. “Wasn’t the whole point of this evening to introduce you to us? As a family,” Cersei scoffed into her goblet. “We won’t get very far with ‘my lords’ and ‘my ladies’, will we?”

Tywin nodded his approval at his sons’ attitude and you smiled, beginning to relax a little, though the presence of Cersei and Joffrey kept you on edge. “Tell me, Lady YN, how is the Vale at this time? Have the northerners got their grubby claws on it yet?” Joffrey suddenly asked.

You froze slightly. You were here to talk, yes, but not talk politics. “The Vale... your grace, is not quite like the Reach, or the Riverlands, or even like Winterfell or Casterly Rock,” you said carefully, fully aware of all of the eyes on you. You looked at Tywin, and when he gave you an approving nod, you turned back to the king and continued. “The majority of the Vale is mountain, with the valley you desire buried between them. Even Robb Stark’s best men couldn’t seize it. No one could. To take the Vale, one must take the Eyrie. To take the Eyrie... well... you just couldn’t,” you were happy sharing this fact, as it was known across Westeros that the Eyrie was impenetrable.

“There are other ways to the Eyrie, though. Marriage,” Cersei said. It was the first time she had spoken, and she had a conniving gleam in her eye.

“There is only one heir to the Vale. Jon Arryn was murd-died before he could have any more children. Only little Robert Arryn is the Lord of the Vale, and he’s just past his sixth name day I believe. Besides, his mother is... very protective of her boy. As I’m sure you can understand, your grace, as a mother yourself,” you said cooly. You didn’t know what possessed you to speak that way to the Queen, but something about speaking of your home, your true home filled you with confidence.

“Indeed. There is nothing quite like a mother’s love,” she responded, fixing you with a cold stare.

“I’m unfamiliar, having lost my mother when I was seven,” you said.

“Does the Eyrie really have a trap door that leads nowhere?” Tommen Baratheon suddenly asked, breaking the silence between you and his mother.

You smiled softly at the little boy. How could someone so innocent come from the loins of a beast like Cersei. You supposed some of the good nature came from his father- his true father, that is, Jaime Lannister. “Yes,” you said. “They call it the Moon Door. It’s a big trap door that opens into the sky. If the Lord of the Vale commands, prisoners can be thrown from it,” you stopped, realising quickly how gruesome that must sound to a little boy.

Tommen simply shrugged. “I suppose that must be less messy,” he said, returning his focus to his food. Soon Tommen and Myrcella were bundled off to bed, and Myrcella told you rather sweetly that she liked the way you did your hair.

Once the children were gone, it left only you and Tywin, his three children and the King. Tywin suggested you move away from the dining table to sit and drink wine. Joffrey excused himself, utterly disinterested with continuing on with the evening. You felt a little lighter after he left, although you could feel Cersei staring daggers at you.

“It must feel strange,” Jaime said. “Coming down here from the Vale. I imagine it’s all rather confusing, and daunting,”

“You can say that again,” you said. “I thought I’d just get bundled off to Casterly Rock, never seen or spoken to,”

Tywin laughed slightly. “Come now, wife, we do have some level of decency in this family,” he said. You smiled shyly, looking at your lap. He was often a little more... relaxed after a few glasses of wine.

“Ha!” Cersei said, having also drunk a fair bit. She had been holding her tongue all night, and it seemed now it had loosened. “Once he puts an heir in your belly, you’ll be shipped off to Casterly Rock. And if it’s a girl, you’ll be spared a visit or two, until you give us a son. That’s all you’re here for, that’s all you’re good for,”

You sat up a little straighter, responding before Tywin could. “I am aware of the general concept of political marriages. Your father gets a wife and an heir, my family gets money, or protection or something of the sort. The Seven know, you Lannisters have gold pouring out of your ears,”

“I believe the phrase is that we ‘shit gold,’” Tyrion supplied with a smirk, making you chuckle.

“You think this is a game,” Cersei hissed. “I’ve seen you, prancing around court, dressed in red and gold, following father around like a lost dog! Fluttering about like a common slut,”

“Cersei-” Jaime said lowly.

“No! No! Can’t you see, she has her claws in father the same way Margaery has her claws in Joffrey! And you want me to accept that whore as my mother,”

It was silent. Cersei panted, now standing up. Jaime and Tyrion looked between her and Tywin. Tywin remained stoic, although his eyes revealed the way he seethed. But it was you who spoke first.

“I don’t expect you to accept me as your mother. I am not your mother. Nor will I ever try to be, or call myself that,” you said quietly, contrasting the Queen’s outburst. “I will, however, do my best to serve my husband, to provide him with the heir that is expected of me, the same way you provided King Robert with his heirs,”

Cersei snorted. “I’m sure you do a fine job of serving, you brazen little who-”

“Enough, Cersei!” Tywin finally said, standing up. “Whether you like it or not, I have married YN. She will give me an heir, or two, or more. And she will remain the lady of Casterly rock, no matter how much you protest,”

“She’s not fit to be lady of Casterly rock. She can barely curtsey,” she spat. “You have heirs, father,” she said, almost pleasing. “What need have you for a little whore,”

“I have a son who swore an oath, another who has more interest in wine and whoring, and a daughter who is not nearly as clever and tactical as she thinks she is. Casterly rock will not be left to either of you when I’m gone. It will be left to mine and YN’s son,”

“It could be! It could be left to one of my children,” Cersei hissed.

“One of your children? I wouldn’t put a bastard on the seat of Casterly Rock,” Tywin said cooly. Cersei opened her mouth to argue but Tywin held up his hand. “Give it up, Cersei. You told me yourself, my legacy is a lie. You have had your chance to build the Lannister name. Now it is time for YN and I to rebuild what you have trampled into the ground with your lies and your... acts,” he said with disgust. “And if I so much as hear the words whore or slut to describe my wife, I will resign as hand, withdraw my knights and my gold, as well as that of the Vale and leave you to pick up the pieces of this kingdom that I have been holding together. Perhaps you could learn a thing or two from the Tyrells. Come YN,” he said, turning away from his daughter and resting his hand on your waist, guiding you out of the Queens chambers and back to the tower of the hand, not giving you a chance to curtsey to the Queen.

As the door slammed shut, Tyrion drained the rest of his wine and clapped his hands as he stood. “Well. That went well,”

Tags: @sociallyawkward-princess @lazyotakujen

#tywin lannister imagine #tywin lannister x you #tywin lannister x reader #tywin x you #Tywin Lannister #request #got #game of thrones fanfic #game of thrones #Joffrey has his own warning #Cersei being herself #2021

[nsheetee]

One Foot in the Golden Life

Pairing: rich kid!renjun x caddie!reader Genre: rich kid AU, university au, romance, slight angst, mature content Length: 9.7k Summary: this is the story of a boy who is constantly pushed down by his father, a girl who just wants to not live paycheck to paycheck, and how they met on a golf course.  Warnings/Details: includes mentions of other NCT members, female reader, swearing, inaccurate depiction of golf, acts of sexual harassment towards the reader, mature content (unprotected sex, coming inside, oral [female receiving])

a/n: a big thank you to @insomni-writing​ for beta reading this ♡ also, if you are a minor, please beware that there is mature content in this fic!

You thought it would be the perfect opportunity to work at the most well-known country club in the state, but really the only thing your job brought you was perpetual cold to your hands and feet, and entangled your simple life with one of the youngest and richest bachelors at your university.

The only place on top of Mt. Carla is the Augusta Country Club, and it is a sight to see by the regular people who gaze up at it from the city below, like mortals looking up into the Gods’ chamber. The first time you went up the mountain for your job interview at the club, you got lost and were almost late. Thankfully, you didn’t crash your car on the winding roads, and got the job as well.

The Augusta Country Club is equipped with the largest and most expensive golf course in the region, but also has Michilin approved restaurants and the finest saunas and gym equipment any CEO could ask for. Those are usually the type of people that have club memberships: CEO’s, congress men and women, top-notch lawyers, and maybe the odd business owner that made it big enough to afford the price tag.

When you took up the job as a caddie, you had an idea of what you were getting yourself into. You’ve only been working for a month, but there are already a few regular golf players that prefer you as their caddie, which in your book is a success considering the type of high profile people that come to relax here.

However, today is different.

You can sense it when Kara and Mina, your coworkers who have been working here for a year longer than you, walk towards you and your friend, Lia, before your shift today. Mina has a small stack of info cards in her hands and they both hold smug smiles on their faces. The info cards have everything a caddie needs to know about who they’ll be working for that shift, and by the looks of it, today’s game will have a good match up.

“I’m going to be Mr. Huang’s son’s caddie. Don’t even fight me on this, you know I’ll win.” Kara states boldly as the two girls stop in front of you, snatching an info card out of Mina’s hand when she holds them up like she’s playing a card game, flashing the photos and names on the cards at you.

“I call dibs on Mr. Lee’s son.” Mina hums, not even bothering to keep up the act that they just want to be good caddies. “You two can have the old men.” She smiles tightly, shoving the other two info cards into Lia’s grasp and turning on her heel to walk away with Kara.

Considering you don’t even know what they’re talking about, you have no right to be mad at them. There is more confusion clouding your mind than anger at their rudeness. However, Lia does not share the same sentiment.

“I’ll shove these info cards up their-” Lia fumes, her volume rising as the sentence went on, and you quickly pulled her out of ear shot, around a corner by the bathrooms. “-stuck up two faced asses!”

“Lia…” You mutter, her wording making you shake your head at how unstable her temper is, “They’ve been working here for a lot longer than we have, just let them have those clients. Either way, what’s it to you?”

“What’s it to me? ___, they’re talking about Lee Jeno and Huang Renjun. I know I told you about them before.” Lia states like she expects you to have those two names tattooed on the front lobe of your brain already.

“I think I remember them…. They go to our University, right?” You try to regurgitate your friend’s rambles from months ago out of your head.

“Yeah, business department.” She sighs dreamily, as if the business department is the sexiest thing on campus. “This might be our only chance to shoot our shot.” You can’t help but grimace a bit.

“It can be your chance to shoot your shot. Leave me out of this.” You randomly grab an info card out of Lia’s hands, turning it around to see Mr. Huang Lijun’s photo staring back at you. You send Lia one last look, walking around her to go change in the dressing rooms.

“Aw, you’re no fun.” You hear her whine, her footsteps echo through the hallway as she comes up behind you. She almost knocks you into the wall from how forcefully she grabs onto your arm and swings it back and forth like you’re two little kids on your way to the playground.

“Maybe we can shoot our shot at the old men?” You and Lia stop walking, turning to face each other for a moment of silence. You blink at each other as if you’re both considering it, before erupting into laughter at the ridiculous thought and continue walking down the hallway.

You and Lia constantly joke around about finding rich sugar daddies at work to pay for your college tuition, but both of you know you’ll never actually commit to the idea fully. Neither of you will admit it, but you both know you don’t have the guts to do something like that.

By the time you, Lia, and your other coworkers change into uniform and gather your supplies for the Lee vs. Huang game, it’s already 10am. The air is crisp and cool, the signs of fall creep along your skin and taint the deep green trees in light oranges and yellows.

Despite the chill, you and your coworkers still wear skirts, long sleeve v-necks, and puffy vests; the only thing keeping your feet warm is a pair of short white socks and tennis shoes. You don’t mind the chill knowing that once the game starts you’ll be moving around enough to get warm. You stop thinking about your cold toes as soon as the door of the country club opens and the Lees and Huangs walk out.

The first time you lay eyes on Huang Renjun, you think your heart might stop.

You know it’s him because he walks close to his father as they make their way to where you’re standing by the golf carts. He has obviously dyed blonde color, his dark roots proof of that; it’s neatly gelled back in an effortless way with the light wind blowing a few of the locks gently as if an angel is personally moving them for him. His white jacket and black pants are slim and look like they cost more than all of your college textbooks this semester. He walks with his head high, his pretty, pink lips set in a straight line, and his almond eyes gentle.

Okay, so... maybe you understand the hype now.

“Good evening, ladies.” Mr. Lee announces, looking at you and your coworkers. You all politely introduce yourself and state who you’ll be caddying for.

Huang Lijun isn’t as tall as his son, but he looks to be more lively than Renjun, even at his age. He has a permanent smile on his lips and you can feel a friendly demeanor radiating from him when you approach.  

“Good Morning, sir. Let me take those off of your hands.” You politely grab the bag of clubs from him, feeling shy as his gaze doesn’t leave your face the entire time.

“You’re new here, right? I feel like I would remember you if I saw you before.” You’re surprised when he suddenly pinches your cheek, and he laughs at your shocked face. An unsettled feeling plants itself at the bottom of your stomach at the unwarranted touch.

“I’ve only been working here for a month, sir.”

“I think I’ll be coming around here more often, then.” He winks at you and turns to go sit in the front seat of the golf cart. You can’t help but let the feeling at the bottom of your stomach grow at how the older man looks at you. You definitely misjudged his “friendly” demeanor. Your eyes can’t help but glance at Renjun, who’s standing a few feet away from the whole interaction. He gives you a blank stare before turning and following his father.

In the past few weeks, you had gotten many lustful smiles and lewd gazes at your bare legs, but also many dollars in tips just in one morning by letting those smiles and gazes happen. The need to make ends meet justifies it all, and the cash you earn at the end of every shift only fuels this need.

The ride from the club’s main building to the first hole is short, so you quickly recompose yourself. You still have a job to do— a job you’re being paid lots of money for. You believe in your strong will to put up with whatever antics Mr. Huang pulls for the next few hours. Upon arrival at the first hole, you pull the bag of golf clubs out of the cart and follow in Mr. Huang’s quick footsteps, suddenly feeling sweaty from the exercise you’re getting by carrying these heavy clubs. When your group reaches the first hole, you set the bag down on the ground and press your hand over your face, but Mr. Huang’s voice startles you.

“Woah, there.” You jump and face him. “Those clubs cost more than my car, and unlike my car, they don’t deserve to be on the ground, darling.”

“Yes, sir. I apologize.” You smile shyly and pick up the clubs from the ground, your shoulders already straining to keep them up. ‘They weigh as much as a car,’ you huff.

This is going to be a long game.

“You kids can clean the carts today,” Mina suddenly throws a keychain at Lia’s face, she barely catches it before it hits her, “I have plans.”

“Me, too.” Kara quickly says, following after Mina as they both walk away. The game ended right at lunchtime (the Lees won) and now you and your coworkers are back at the club. It’s supposed to be everyone’s job to clean the golf carts after they’ve been used, but it looks like today it’ll just be you and Lia… Maybe.

“___, please. I’m going to be late to the cafe, my boss there is already mad at me.” Lia turns to you and begs with her hands clasped in front of her chest, eyes pleading and feet bouncing. You sigh; you’re hungry and your muscles are sore, and all you want to do is go home as quickly as you can. Still, you roll your eyes and take the golf cart keys from her, making her face crack open into a smile as she hugs you quickly.

“I’ll bring you coffee on Monday!” She screams at you as she practically runs away, leaving you with two golf carts to clean. You sluggishly begin, crawling into the cart the Huangs were sitting in when you find a small notebook laying on one of the seats. Picking it up to examine it, you find out it’s your university’s yearly planner, a book that everyone gets at the beginning of every academic year. Along the binder reads “Huang Renjun” and your eyes widen, immediately looking up to glance at the direction that Renjun walked off to a while ago.

Your legs move quickly through the corridors of the club, moving past changing rooms, saunas, and bathrooms, the planner tightly clutched in your hand. Your head is on a swivel and your lower lip is stuck between your teeth, until you hear a door open and slam shut behind you, making you turn your head to catch Renjun walking out of a changing room.

“Mr. Huang!” You call out.. Renjun freezes at the name, spinning on his heel to see you walking towards him.

“Sorry to disturb you, but you left your planner on the golf cart.” You hold it out for him, but he doesn’t take it.

“How do you know it’s a planner? Did you look through it?” You blink at him, stunned, and then glance down at the notebook. You’re surprised by the sudden questions and at the same time annoyed that Renjun accused you of snooping through his things so quickly. The image you had of him earlier, graceful, classy, and attractive, slips out of your mind as he stares down at you. However, this is the first time he’s directly talking to you, and you can’t help the spark that ignites in your belly from the roughness in his voice. It’s higher-pitched, but unpolished and jagged as he speaks with you.

“No. I go to the same University. I have the same one.” You explain. Renjun’s stare turns into shock.

“Really? Which department?”

“Fine Arts. I study Studio Art.” At first you think that you’re seeing things, but after blinking, you can guarantee that Renjun has jealousy painted on his face. It’s so sour that he looks away, trying to preoccupy his hands by fiddling with his bag. “So, are you going to take this, or…?”

“Yeah,” The bitterness drips from his tone, but you have a feeling it’s not directed at you, “Thank you for returning it.” He finally accepts it and turns to his bag, taking out his wallet. The cards inside look thick and heavy; memberships to places you’ll never step foot in and credit cards with limits you could never even imagine. Your pride tells you that you don’t need anything he could give you, so you silently turn around and walk away.

Renjun shuffles through some crisp 10’s and 20’s, but when he looks up to give you the tip, you’re already down the hallway and halfway out the door. You have golf carts to clean.

The next time you see Renjun is a week after the last game. The chilly weather remains, along with the useless uniform you have to wear, but this time around you’re not Mr. Huang’s caddie, you’re Renjun’s.

Kara walks next to you with Mr. Huang’s heavy golf clubs, her lips straight and head turned away from you to show her annoyance at how the caddie match up situation went this week. You’re sure to get an earful about this for at least the next few days, but you kind of like this revenge that fate dealt Kara. Either way, it’s not like there’s anything you can do about the match up. Renjun requested you to be his caddie this week, and you weren’t going to risk your bosses being angry with you by denying the request.

“Driver.” Renjun’s voice pulls you into the game. You pull out the correct golf club and put it into his awaiting hand, your fingertips brushing with his. “Aren’t you cold?” The words shock you, considering they’re the first words Renjun spoke to you today other than commands for golf clubs.

“I-I’m fine, Mr. Huang.” You respond promptly.

“Don’t call me that.” His tone is icy, and he quickly realizes how unnecessary it is to bite at you like that, “Just call me Renjun.” His father walks back from his shot, looking very smug. Renjun’s face is calm as he trades spots with his father and prepares for his first swing of the day, correcting his posture and loosening his limbs.

You remember the first time you saw him, how elegant and poised he looked. Your cold hands break into a sweat as your chest heats up from the quick beating of your heart. Renjun has only been icy and accusing towards you so far, yet you still feel warm while thinking about him. There has to be something wrong with you.

“Doesn’t my son look like he knows what he’s doing?” Mr. Huang asks from beside you, a small, unnerving smile on his lips.

“Yes, sir.” You reply back with your own, more innocent, smile.

“I taught him everything he knows about golf…. And women.” Mr. Huang leans into you, turning his chest to face you so that his breath is hitting your cheek. You can’t help but swallow to relieve your dry and cold throat, keeping your eyes forward as Renjun swings his club back and forth a bit in preparation.

“Yes, sir.” The only thought on your mind is to stop this man from stepping closer.

“Is that the only thing you can say?”

Renjun swings his arm back, breathing in as he keeps his eyes on the small white ball and his hopes in the green before him. Mr. Huang’s right hand is warm on your waist, but you would give anything to freeze right now.

A sharp crack ripples through the air as Renjun hits the golf ball and sends it flying into the golf course. His eyes are not where the ball lands, but instead on where his father touches you.

Renjun’s mom died when he was not even three days old.

He never got to meet her— to lay on her chest and hold her finger with his whole hand. He’ll never know what advice she would’ve given him when he got his first girlfriend, and he’ll never know how she would’ve reacted to him crashing his first car when he was 17. He only knows that his mom would’ve been there for him through all of that, unlike his father, who was not.

Renjun has had “mothers” through his life; three, to be exact. The first was when he was 5 years old, and she quickly asked for a divorce after Renjun’s dad went on a three month business trip and she didn’t hear from him the whole time. The second “mother” was a bit more mature than the first and with a lot more time on her hands. She wanted to shape 9 year old Renjun into a perfect student, which was something Renjun’s father appreciated, but still divorced her for “being too strong-headed.” Renjun only met his third mother twice when he was 13: once at the wedding and the second time at her funeral. He didn’t ask any questions, he wasn’t very interested in the first place.

These were the type of people Renjun spent his life around, but they really weren’t his mothers. The only similarity he had with those women was his father, and he treated them as poorly as he treated Renjun. That’s why when Renjun looks at you, cowering away from the very man who is his only link to family, he feels sick.

When is his dad going to stop being a fucking predator? How young does he want his next conquest to be? Will Renjun’s next mom be the same age as him? Something swirls in the pit of his stomach when he watches his father and it takes a moment for him to figure out what it is: jealousy. He’s not sure why he’s feeling jealous over someone he just met last week, but the feeling engulfs his whole chest and it burns him to his spot.

Renjun doesn’t even notice that he swung his golf club or that the golf ball went somewhere far into the green, probably an overshot. He only sees you, afraid of the man touching you but not stepping away. Why aren’t you stepping away?

“Nice job, Renjun.” His best friend, Jeno, claps a hand on his back as he steps up, hitting Renjun back into reality and forcing him to walk towards you. As Renjun approaches, his father slyly takes his hand away, and Renjun notices how you let out a relieved sigh. Giving you back his driver, Renjun strategically stands between you and his father, pretending to watch Jeno swing.

“Good job… Renjun.” You whisper, unsure about calling him by his first name so informally.

“Thank you.” Renjun sends a side glance to his father to see the displeased look on his face. “How was that, Dad?” Renjun hopes that maybe he can remind his father of why he’s here (to win against the Lees this week, not to feel up a girl 30 years younger than him) but in this moment, his father is acting like a 5 year old in the middle of a silent tantrum, not a 50 year old who runs the most successful construction company in the country.

“I’ve taught you better than that.” Renjun is sure they’re not talking about golf anymore, the authoritative tone in his father’s voice sends a lightning bolt of surprise and slight fear down Renjun’s back. He hates how he gets scared, he hates how his father can control him. The fury churns in the pit of his stomach as he accepts his father’s words with a bow of his head.

One day, Renjun swears he won’t submit anymore.

After the game ended with the Lees winning once again, you, Lia, and your other coworkers convene at the golf carts after the clients leave to change inside the club.

“You ladies know the drill.” Kara throws both sets of golf cart keys at you before walking off with Mina. You push Lia towards the entrance of the building before she even has a chance to turn around and open her mouth.

“You should get to the cafe before your boss throws another fit.” Lia turns back to face you, her jaw slightly slack and her eyes shining.

“You’re seriously the best. I love you.”

“Yeah, yeah, just give me a few extra shots in my coffee on Monday.” Lia laughs at that, grabbing your face between her two small, manicured hands and kissing you on each cheek before hopping off inside. You can’t help but be amused at her antics, turning to the golf carts in front of you to start cleaning.

“They make you clean the carts by yourself?” The voice startles you, not because you weren’t expecting it but because it’s Renjun’s. You turn your head over your shoulder, he’s standing just a few feet away still in his golfing gear from earlier.

“Uh, not usually, no. But my coworkers haven’t been happy with me lately.” You explain, fully turning to him and crossing your arms over your chest to tuck your cold hands into your sides.

“The ones who have been working here for a while?” You nod as an answer, and Renjun nods back in understanding, shoving his hands in his pants pockets. “They’ve been trying to get with me and my best friend for a while...” Renjun trails off when he sees your eyebrows raise at the comment, “... But that’s not what I came here to talk about.”

“Oh? What are you here for?” The conversation has gotten too informal for a worker and their client to be having, but you kind of like talking to Renjun in this casual setting.

“I realized that the past few times we’ve talked I’ve been such a dick.” He laughs lightly as he remembers, “I wanted to apologize for that. I wasn’t in a good mood last week and this morning, and I ended up pushing it on you.”

Renjun feels lots of emotions when it comes to you, despite only having this one proper conversation with you. He feels envy towards you for being able to study something that he desperately wants to. He feels guilt when he remembers how quickly he made you into a thief when you were only trying to return his belongings, and he feels so many other secondary and tertiary emotions in between. His head is full when he looks at you. He finally feels like he’s thinking about something, not just doing the same day to day motions in a constant cycle of ‘when will this end?’

“You’re apologizing?” You ask, stunned when he nods his head in confirmation. Sincere apologies are important to you. You believe there are not enough of them in this world anymore, and his gentle almond eyes are too wholehearted and warm for you in this cold weather. Your heart feels full looking at him, and you curse at yourself in your head for being swayed like this.

“I also have a question… You mentioned you’re majoring in Studio Art and I was wondering if, maybe, you could let me into one of the studios after a class this week? I’ve been needing a quiet place to work since my house has been busy lately.” One of the hands that was in Renjun’s pocket moves to matte down his sideburns while he glances at his shoes. “Was that too forward? Sorry, I just know that you can’t get into a studio without a passcode and you’re the only person I know who’s in Studio Art.” Renjun explains after you stare for a while, blinking at him.

“You’re an artist?” You finally ask, Renjun giving you a weak ‘yeah’ in response. A part of you wants to say no, that it’ll be weird to do something like this for him when you’ve only known him for less than 2 weeks and up until this point, you’ve only been in a worker-client relationship. However, you’re curious about what he’s like outside of this setting, especially what he’s like when his father has no possibility of appearing, since that seems to be the factor that turns his mood up or down.

“Sure. Come by studio 3 after 6pm on Wednesday and I’ll let you in, but... I heard Mr. Lee already scheduled a game for next weekend?” Renjun nods, “Then in return, you can win that game. It’s embarrassing always being on the losing team.” You smile playfully at the end to let him know you’re only joking.

“Deal.” Renjun sends a smile back of the same caliber, holding out a hand to shake with yours. If you thought you were affected by Renjun’s nice presence, his hand in yours sends you into another realm. His touch is warm from staying indoors and from keeping his hands in his pockets, and they contrast to your cold skin. He sucks in a breath through his teeth when your hands connect, turning your hand in his grip to look at your knuckles. “Are you sure you’re not cold? Your hands are freezing.”

“I’ll be okay. I just don’t have any good gloves to wear while working.” He huffs, small traces of white smoke leaves his mouth as he digs through his pockets.

“Wear these.” He replaces his hand in yours with a pair of his own gloves, “Your hands are precious, they shouldn’t be freezing.” Before Renjun can get embarrassed by his own words, he shoves his hands back into his pockets and turns on his heel, walking away, “I’ll see you on Wednesday!”

A knock on the studio doors shakes you away from staring at your painting, making you turn to look at who it is. Renjun peaks through the small window and waves when you make eye contact. You get up to open the door, almost forgetting that today is the day you agreed to let Renjun into your studio.

… Okay, that’s a lie. You definitely remembered that you’re supposed to meet Renjun, but you keep trying to convince yourself that you’re not excited about seeing him outside of that stuffy country club.

“Hey, sorry if I startled you.” Is the first thing he says when you open the door. He’s dressed in slacks, a dress shirt with a sweater over it, and a long coat over that. His nose and cheeks are slightly red from the rough wind outside and his supplies are clutched to his chest.

“Oh, you’re fine. I was just deep in thought.” Something about the studio makes both of you speak in hushed tones. No one else is here, but you feel the need to maintain the peace and quiet the room naturally holds. You and Renjun make your way to where you’re set up, he puts his things down on an easel to your left and takes off his coat, watching you from his peripheral vision.

Those uniforms they make you wear at work are just for show, Renjun knows that well, but that doesn’t stop him from appreciating you in the tight vest and little skirt. However right now, he likes your laid back look consisting of loose jeans and a layered shirt, he thinks it matches you.

“I was going to leave when you got here, but I think I’ll just finish this and head out.” You comment, aimlessly waving at your project.

“Please, stay as long as you need to. This is your studio, I don’t want to kick you out.” He laughs and licks his bottom lip. It’s breathtaking how innocent and nice his smile looks on his face. His eyes scrunch together to form laugh lines and his cheeks rise, he truly looks pretty when he smiles. You think this is the first time you’ve seen him like this.

You mumble back with a mixture of words that probably didn’t make sense and turn back to your work, leaving the room to continue with its peacefulness and quiet. However, Renjun’s presence next to you is too big to ignore. There are so many things you want to know about him and you have no excuse as to why you’re so curious.

“How about a game while we work?” You suggest.

“Sure… How about 20 questions?” It’s like he read your mind, so you smile and nod at his idea.

“You can go first.” You suggest.

“Okay, uh… Why do you work at a golf course if you’re majoring in Studio Art? Shouldn’t you be working at a, I don’t know, museum?” The question catches you off guard and Renjun notices how you stop painting, your brush and your hand floating in the air as you think, “Oh, sorry, is that too personal?”

“No, no… It’s just, normally, the first question people ask in a game of 20 questions is something like ‘what’s your favorite color’ or ‘what’s your sign’.” Renjun lets out a choked and embarrassed laugh, ducking his head down to look away from you. You can tell he’s about to change his question, so you quickly go back to painting and speak before he can.

“I did apply to work at several museums. I didn’t get any jobs, so I had to look elsewhere and Augusta was hiring. I know it’s not very fitting, but it makes good money and rich people know my name, even if it’s for just a few hours.” Renjun nods at your answer as if he could ever understand the idea of being poor, but the insight into your decision brings a fact to light that Renjun wasn’t 100% aware of before: you’re not like him, you need money.

“Don’t you hate the way people look at you there?” The words tumble out of Renjun’s lips faster than he can process the weight they carry. He turns to face you with guilt pooling in his eyes and his mouth opening and closing to find some words to correct the situation.

“No, I don’t like it.” You surprise him with your quick response, “But people like you don’t understand what it’s like to live paycheck to paycheck, to have to worry about how to pay the bills every month for years on end, always on your toes about money. I bet you think I’m cheap and—”

“No.” Renjun cuts you off promptly before you can continue, “Don’t make me into a jerk. I’m not like that. But the fact that that is the first thing you thought of worries me.” Your eyes widen at that, prompting him to elaborate. “Doesn’t that mean that’s how you think of yourself? Maybe not on the outside, but subconsciously. Sure, I won’t ever be able to understand how you live, but I wish you would not look at yourself as cheap and think of yourself as… beautiful.” Renjun lets the last words linger on his tongue, saying it quietly as if to not startle you.

You stare at him, your paintbrush resting in your hand and your back slouched as you watch him watch you. This is not the type of conversation you thought you’d be having with Renjun tonight, but you have to admit he makes a point. Eventually, you turn to your painting and stare at it some more, making Renjun turn and continue his own work.

“Ah, I asked two questions in a row.” He suddenly breaks the tense atmosphere, making you sigh as you remember you’re just playing a game, “You can ask two questions.”

He allows and relaxes when he sees you go back to painting.

“If you like to draw, why are you a business major?” Now it’s Renjun’s turn to freeze. Maybe if he did ask what your favorite color was he wouldn’t have had to endure this question from you, but he feels like he should answer it since it’s of equal weight to the one he asked you.

“It wasn’t my choice. I will most likely take my father’s place in his company and I need to at least know the basics before that happens.” You nod slowly. He looks so calm when he’s focused on drawing, but it’s not the same calm that you see on his face when he’s playing golf. You turn away before you get caught staring.

“Is that why your mood always changes when your dad is around?”

“Is it that obvious…” He trails off and you nod, “I can’t believe I’m about to say this out loud, but… It’s like everytime I’m around him, or at his office, or at home, my mind goes blank. I don’t feel like talking or thinking at all.” As he speaks, he sets down his utensils and turns to you, making continuous eye contact as he explains. You find yourself feeling comfortable at how easily he’s talking to you about such a deep subject.

“It sounds like… you’re angry.” You turned to face him now too, your paintbrush settled onto your canvas and your full attention on him, “My dad is like that. He gets so angry sometimes that he’s calm. No yelling or fighting, just silence. That’s how I know I messed up when he gets like that.” You nod, remembering all the times he’s been calmly mad at you.

“I don’t know… It’s confusing to me.” He straightens his back and stares at your foot as it moves around aimlessly. “What do I do?” He asks into the air, as if his pencil would suddenly start talking to him like a therapist.

“Just do what makes you happy.” Renjun’s glance over at you makes a smile pull at your lips, “I know it’s easier said than done. But you already know what it is that’ll make you happy, and that’s half of the battle. Why bottle it up?”

Renjun doesn’t know how he’ll ever get the courage to tell his father these things, but the way you’re looking at him as if he can do anything, he starts to feel tingles of confidence trickle into him.

“Oh, and why did you pick me to be your caddie this past weekend?”

“Well…” Renjun plays with his pencil. What is he supposed to say? He doesn’t want you to carry around his father’s heavy golf clubs? He doesn’t like the way his father touches you and gets jealous over it for some unknown reason? Yeah, he’s not going to say.

“Just because… I wanted you next to me.” The way he says it makes it sound so simple and true, but your heart drops to your stomach and springs back up going at 100 miles per hour. You can barely stop your hand from shaking as you pick up your brush, and it’s almost like you can’t see in front of you from the thrill of his words.

“Hey,” Renjun suddenly drops his pencil and turns to you, looking a bit confused and slightly upset, “Didn’t you ask three questions?”

“We’re letting the Lees win again today.” Renjun is in the middle of pulling up the zipper of his jacket when his father drops the news. Renjun’s footsteps stutter slightly at his father’s words and he stops walking next to the older man.

“Again?” He asks as he already thinks up an apology to tell you later when he loses.

“Yes, I need Mr. Lee to be happy when I bring up the new contract to him later in the sauna.” Renjun sighs and continues to walk next to his father. It’s the next weekend, and the third Lee vs. Huang game is starting in just a few minutes.

Renjun won’t lie, purposefully losing to his best friend and his dad every week is not the greatest stroke to Renjun’s ego, especially since Jeno won’t let it down around his other friends.

“Oh, I’ve been meaning to ask you,” Lijun swivels on his heel to look at his son, “Have you been requesting for ___ to be your caddie?”

The questions stuns Renjun, making it hard to answer so his father takes it as a yes.

“Well stop it. Dad wants to have some fun.” He claps a hand on Renjun’s back and  smiles. In the past, Renjun would’ve just rolled his eyes and let his father do whatever he wants, but this time his blood boils. He feels true anger when his father struts away with the intentions of doing whatever he wants to someone Renjun cares about. He can barely move his feet after the old man, his mind cloudy as everyone makes it to the golf carts.

“Let’s have a good game today, Mr. Huang, don’t make it too easy to beat you.” Mr. Lee jokes around and the two old men laugh as they settle into their own golf carts. Renjun walks up to his cart and you wave to him, the white gloves he gave you last week snugly on your hands. Renjun thinks his anger is what spurs him into doing what he does next.

He steps close to you, leaning into your ear and wrapping his hand around your covered ones with his thumb rubbing on your exposed wrist, “Keep these on for me, babe. I don’t want you to be cold.”

The amount of jaws that drops after Renjun’s words makes him bite down his smirk and slide into the front seat of the golf cart, pretending to not see the daggers his father is  throwing at him with his eyes.

Your heart beats so quickly and loudly you’re sure Kara can hear it next to you if she wasn’t busy huffing about what Renjun just did. Sitting in the back seat of the golf cart, you watch the back of Renjun’s head on the way to the first hole. What got into Renjun? Why did he all of a sudden call you ‘babe’ and get so close? Not that you’re opposed to it, you’re just shocked.

The game begins once you reach the first hole, and the Huang’s put up a good fight throughout the entire game, keeping the Lees on their toes and the score sheet even. Everytime Renjun comes back from a shot, you smile at him and tell him good job, which earns you a pat on the back from him that warms you up from the inside out.

Renjun can tell his father is getting more and more annoyed with him; how Renjun is keeping you as far from his father as he possibly can, the gentle touches on your waist that you welcome wholeheartedly compared to the ones Mr. Huang would lay on you before. He likes how angry his father gets, especially knowing that he can’t do anything about it right now. Not to mention, you seem to be enjoying Renjun’s attention, which just adds to his confidence.

Now, your group arrives at the last hole of the game. The Lees step up and swing, setting their total score to 357. All Renjun and his father have to do is move the ball around a bit more to get their score to be higher and the Lees will win the game. Mr. Huang is up first, acting clumsy so that the ball doesn’t make it into the hole and brings the game to Renjun.

As he sets up his posture, his hands suddenly go stiff. This shot is so easy to make, he has made this exact hole several times. He breathes in and out deeply, deciding on if he should throw the game like his father said he should, or give his one last ‘fuck you’ to his Dad.

He glances at you and makes eye contact; you nod your head and smile a bit as if to say ‘go ahead, we all know you can do this.’ Renjun then grips his golf club and swings it back to effortlessly hit the golf ball, rolling it along the green and perfectly into the hole.

You and the other caddies clap for the perfectly executed shot and Jeno and his father come up to Renjun to shake hands. They don’t look upset, instead they look pretty happy for Renjun. However, Renjun’s father is deathly silent, not even congratulating Renjun on his win. Renjun wasn’t expecting a whole ceremony for him, but it does feel nice to put his father down a peg or two today, and that’s the thought that fills Renjun’s head as everyone rides back to the country club.

While getting out of the golf cart, Renjun attempts to turn back to you but is promptly pulled away by the back of his jacket by his father. Renjun yelps and pulls away, but that doesn’t stop Lijun from grabbing onto his son’s arm instead and pulling him inside.

“What was that? I specifically told you to lose the game and you did the exact opposite. How am I supposed to talk to Mr. Lee now?” Renjun’s father fumes, his low voice belting out into the corridor and making some of the passing staff turn their heads.

“That’s not my problem.” Renjun shrugs and his father stops shaking, stepping closer to his son.

“Excuse me?” He asks with menace dripping from his tongue.

“I said, that’s not my problem.” Renjun is fired up. He doesn’t see a way out of this now, no way his behavior is being excused, so might as well go all in.

“You did it for that caddie, ___, right?” His father squints his eyes and turns his head slightly. When Renjun doesn’t answer, Lijun laughs in his face, “It looks like I’m right.”

“What?” Renjun asks dumbly.

“It’s okay. You’re just a boy and you can make some mistakes over a girl, we’ve all been there once or twice.” Lijun fixes Renjun’s jacket and pats his shoulder, his angry disposition turning passive. “Besides, you can’t do much for that girl anyway. Is a ball in a hole really all she deserves?”

“I won the game because I could. I won it because that’s what I wanted.” Renjun states, his blood beginning to boil once again when his father says he doesn’t deserve you. What is he thinking? Does he actually think he has a chance with you? He can keep dreaming.

“We can’t always do whatever we want. There are consequences we have to face for doing whatever we want. Are you ready to face the consequences?” At the question, Renjun is reminded about the words you told him Wednesday night.

‘Just do what makes you happy,’ Those simple words are so hard to turn into reality. Renjun wants to be happy so bad. He wants to be away from this man and he wants to be closer to you. The consequences? Sure, he’ll deal with it all if it means he can stop living in the personal hell his father set up for him. Renjun pushes his father away a bit and steps out of the trap his father pushed him into, making Lijun’s eyes widen.

“Yeah, I’m ready.” Renjun says and turns around, walking back towards the exit of the building.

“Hey, where are you going?” His father shouts after him.

“To do the thing that I want to do the most.” He yells back and walks around the corner, out of sight from his father. Renjun practically runs through the hallways to get back outside and run to you, but you surprise him by greeting him by the saunas. He stops in his steps and you smile as you walk up to him.

“Hey, I just wanted to tell you that you did really well today. I know I said I wanted you to win last week, but I didn’t think you’d actually do it.” You laugh.

“Thanks.” Renjun simply says, afraid of what else could come out if he keeps talking.

“Oh, I also want to give you these back.” You dig out Renjun’s gloves from your pocket, holding them out. This is it. This is the moment Renjun will start to do whatever makes him happy, whatever he wants.

And what he wants right now is you.

He quickly takes the gloves and then tightly grips the wrist of your outstretched hand, leading you down the hallway and around some corner. He hears you exclaim a small ‘woah’ but you let him guide you into a sauna, the door closing tightly behind both of you.

There’s no one else in the room, just the stuffy steam that floats in the small space between you two. Renjun has a tight grip on the gloves you gave back to him and his other hand runs through his hair and messes up the perfect form it held.

“Tell me to stop.” He demands, looking straight into your eyes.

“What?”

“Tell me to stop right now.” He takes a step forward, his eyes full to the brim with lust and his hands shaking with how much he’s holding himself together. You’ve barely been in the room for a minute, but your clothes are already sticking to you from the intense heat.

“I don’t understand,” You reply back as he keeps moving toward you. You take small steps back in return, “I don’t know what I’m stopping you from.” Half of you is playing dumb right now; you know what Renjun wants from you just by the look in his eyes. The other half just wants to hear him say it himself

“I’ll fuck you the way you deserve. Right here, right now.” Renjun’s voice is too angelic to say such nasty words, but he growls them out like he’s a tainted angel. You’re pressed against the wooden wall of the sauna now, Renjun just a step away. You lean into him slightly and rip the gloves out of his hand to throw them to the side.

“Do it.”

It’s all the permission Renjun needs to feverishly connect his lips to yours.

The action is so sudden, you don’t remember how Renjun got close to you so quickly. Despite his forcefulness before, his lips melt into you like chocolate melting over a fire, so hot and delicious that you just want more. His hands hold the sides of your face, pushing back your hair and his body pushing you back into the wall.

He sucks on your bottom lip, softly biting afterwards and making you let out a whimper, and then a moan when his thigh pushes between your legs and further presses you against the wall. Amidst the kissing, you find the zipper of his expensive jacket, unzip it, and pull the piece of clothing off. Afterwards, you pull his shirt off and break the kiss while you’re at it.

“I’ve been thinking about you in this skirt since….” Renjun hums at the thought, his hand sliding up your bare thighs and under your skirt, then he grips your ass and brings your core down onto his thigh, the friction enough to have you letting out a strangled moan.

“Since the day I first saw you.” He finally whispers and connects your lips once again. His hand on your ass doesn’t move, his other hand is placed on your waist as he helps you ride the rough material of his pants. Renjun can only watch your reactions; the way your head lolls back into the wall and your eyes screw shut, holding onto Renjun’s shoulders tight enough he’s sure there will be marks afterwards.

“Fuck— Renjun, don’t stop, please.” He’s mesmerized, absolutely addicted to how you look and sound right now, and it’s all because of him. The thought spurs him along, he removes your jacket and you blindly help him in removing your top and bra. You must look like a mess right now, especially since you’re coming close to your climax just by Renjun’s touch and his thigh. Not to mention the sweat dripping down both of you, a glistening sheen coating your skin that makes Renjun let out a low growl before he leans down and takes one of your nipples in his mouth.

He sucks and swirls his tongue, and you can’t help but moan his name again, digging your fingers into his blonde hair and tugging. Renjun moves from your chest downward, not letting an inch of your stomach and hips go past him without a kiss and a nibble, leaving you breathing heavily. He makes his way down to his knees and folds your skirt up, glancing at  you from his position.

“You don’t wear anything under here except your panties?” You nod, your head stuttering as Renjun applies pressure with his thumb over your slick hole, a wet spot already there to greet him.

“You’re so fucking dirty, baby.” He groans and leans in to swipe his tongue over your center making you shake as a response. He slides your underwear down and throws it somewhere to the side, catching the sigh of your arousal dripping down your thigh. His intense stare makes you shake him, embarrassment crawling over you at how he’s not reacting.

“Are you shy?” You whine, not really answering his question. “You don’t need to be. You’re beautiful.” The softness from his voice contradicts his more dominating tone from before, but you don’t have time to think about it before he dives in. You sigh in content when the pressure in between your hips caused by Renjun turns into pure pleasure. His tongue laps at your essence and his lips suck on your clit, you can tell he’s trying to find what exactly will make you tick.

When Renjun slides a finger into your hole unexpectedly, you jump and whimper a bit but the feeling of him sliding in and out along with his tongue circling and sucking on your clit makes a knot form in the pit of your stomach, tightening up your muscles and making your eyes roll back.

“Right there. Oh my god, right there…” You keep repeating, praying that Renjun treats you good and let’s you come. He adds another finger and you gasp, starting to move your hips in rhythm to his hand, holding onto his shoulders for more stability. He glances up at you, watching your eyes screw shut and your tits bounce as you use his hand to get yourself off. Renjun hums against you, and you can almost feel the ecstasy of coming undone, until Renjun pulls away. You groan, feeling like crying when your orgasm fades.

“Hey..” You whine, pouting when Renjun stands back up and licks your juices off of his lips. He has some on his chin and you bring your hand up to wipe it away, Renjun stopping your hand and kissing the wetness away, then kissing up your arm and to your shoulder, up your neck and to your ear. He tugs at your earlobe, licking the skin under it and biting some more, his hands sliding up your waist at playing with your nipples, pinching a little to get whimpers out of you and making your hips buck up, ready to continue where Renjun left you at.

That’s when you feel the hardness in his pants; it must be painful. That’s why you understand his next words, whispered into the shell of your ear between kisses: “You’re not coming until I’m in you, got it?”

You nod quickly, attaching your hands to Renjun’s zipper and button, undoing them and sliding down his pants.

“But, you’re gonna need to do something for me…” He says, helping you pull down his boxers, watching his angry, red length swing out. You gasp, feeling a bit bad that you just left Renjun like this to eat you out, but you’re sure you can make up to him now.

“What is it? I’ll do it.” Your hands run over Renjun’s sweaty shoulders, moving away some longer hair in the back of his head that’s sticking against his neck.

“You’re gonna have to yell my name. I need you to let everyone know who’s doing this to you— who’s making you feel good, okay?” Your breath gets caught in your throat as the words tumble out of his lips. He tilts his voice higher at the end of every phrase to make him sound innocent, but you’re not fooled.

“There’s people outside…” You mumble back, sending a glance at the door. You know there are several staff and customers walking along the hallways outside. What will they think if they hear you screaming Renjun’s name? Not to talk about what will happen to your job.

Those thoughts melt away when Renjun’s dick slides between your folds slowly, making you turn your gaze back to him and hold on tight as he lubricates himself over your wetness, holding onto your hips so that you don’t move and take anymore than what he’s giving you.

“That’s exactly why I want you to scream. Can you do that for me?” He asks and you nod frantically, doing almost anything to get his dick inside you. You’re not sure what’s going to happen once you step out of this room, but at least you know Renjun is going to give you the best fuck you’ve had in a while, and you know it’ll be worth it for what’s to come after all this.

“Finally…” You moan when Renjun’s length disappears into you inch by inch, going slow as to not hurt you. He sucks in a breath through his teeth as he bottoms out, picking up your thigh to hang it over his hip and wrapping his other arm around your waist to keep you close. You hold onto him, adjusting as he kisses your lips sweetly and carefully, and waits to move his throbbing cock through your velvety walls.

“Go, Renjun, move….” You whisper, and he looks at you confused.

“What was that? I didn’t hear you.” He asks, cocking his head.

“Please, move.” You say louder, but he shakes his head and purses his lips as if he still can’t understand.

“I said, fuck me, Renjun. Please, can you fuck me already?” You all but scream out, your voice almost cracking at how whiny you sound. No doubt, if someone passed by outside they would’ve heard you. The thought makes you tense up, but it feels so good to be able to yell out what you want.

“Your wish, baby.” Renjun mutters before he starts rocking into you. You both groan at the sensation, Renjun’s hips speeding up as he gains more momentum. His lips don’t leave yours, kissing you into oblivion while his dick stuffs you. He has you against the wall, his hips powering away and you don’t dare to disturb him, realizing he’s burning all of his anger away as well.

“Yes, Renjun, fuck me just like that…'' You moan loudly to spur him on, now not really caring about who’s outside or who hears you, just wanting Renjun to know you love how rough he’s going. He presses you higher up the wall and pulls your legs apart more, hitting a new angle that literally makes you scream out, tears mixing with the sweat on your face as he relentlessly pumps into you.

There are so many things going on at the same time. Your hard nipples and soft breasts rubbing against Renjun’s chest, making goosebumps rise on his arms. Your hot and sweaty bodies are basically sliding against each other. The clapping of his hips against yours no doubt attracts attention from outside along with your screams and Renjun’s grunts continuously get louder as you both get closer to the climax.

“I’m gonna come… Renjun, come in me…” You’re already fucked out, the words barely leaving your lips coherently, but Renjun understands and moves his finger down to find your clit, circling his thumb fast and steady, just like everything else he’s doing.

“C’mon come on my cock, babe. Let it out, I wanna hear it.” And just like that, you unwind and scream his name as your orgasm washes over and takes control, making you claw onto any part of Renjun that you can reach. Renjun feels your walls deliciously convulse around him and with a few more sloppy thrusts, he comes into you and fills you up, staying wrapped up in you as you both calm down.

Renjun presses small kisses wherever he feels like as your breathing settles down, his softness and the caring way he rubs at your sides and hips where he was holding so hard that you’re sure to have bruises makes you smile hazily.

“___… I don’t regret any of this.” He whispers into your skin, leaning back to look at you properly. “Do you?”

“No.” You answer truthfully, making his eyes shine and you both smile dumbly, your sticking bodies relaxing. The happy moment doesn’t last long before there’s a knock on the door to the sauna. You and Renjun stiffen up as you glance at the door, waiting for whoever it is to announce themselves.

“Renjun? Son?” Your heart drops to your stomach and you cover your mouth at the voice of Renjun’s father on the other side of the door, but when you turn to Renjun, he doesn’t seem bothered. He sends a smile at you and moves some hair from your face before answering.

“Occupied, go somewhere else. We’re busy.”

#renjun #renjun fluff #nct dream au #nct smut #nct dream smut #huang renjun #renjun smut #nct fluff #nct dream fluff #renjun au #nct au #renjun x reader #nct dream #nct #renjun scenarios #renjun imagines #renjun fic #nct scenarios #nct imagines #nct fics #nct dream imagines #nct dream scenarios #nct dream fic #00 line #dreamies

[dorimena]

𝕷𝖆𝖈𝖊 𝖆𝖓𝖉 𝕮𝖆𝖐𝖊

𝔠𝔥𝔞𝔯𝔞𝔠𝔱𝔢𝔯; bakugou katsuki

𝔴𝔬𝔯𝔡 𝔠𝔬𝔲𝔫𝔱; 1.4k

𝔴𝔞𝔯𝔫𝔦𝔫𝔤𝔰; fem!reader, lingerie, sex toy (vibrating butt plug), implied edging, implied overstimulation, pegging, mommy kink, dacryphilia, dom!reader, sub!reader

𝔬𝔱𝔥𝔢𝔯 𝔱𝔞𝔤𝔰; garterbelt, dry orgasms, didn’t know lima bean respect day existed, if you haven't realized i refer to reader's dick as cock whether flesh or silicone, implied aftercare, aged up character, Bakugou is in his 20s

𝔰𝔦𝔡𝔢𝔫𝔬𝔱𝔢; late gift for the birthday boy who i haven’t written anything about until now. It was supposed to come out as a small fic, but University kept getting in the way and I’ve fallen behind with some pendant writings. Guess this is my first headcanon thing. Not proofread!

April 20th could mean anything for a lot of people:

In the US, it’s National Pineapple Upside Down Cake Day.

Also in the US, it’s National Lima Bean Respect Day.

Internationally, for the weed lovers, it’s 420 Day.

But April 20th simply means it’s your boyfriend’s birthday.

Bakugou had been hinting about wanting a small surprise for a while, whether big or small

And by hinting, I mean downright telling you every breakfast, lunch and dinner spent possible throughout March that he wants something from you, but doesn’t want to know what

If you were Mina, you would’ve thrown a party at some lowkey club and hired one of the best DJs in the city, if not the country

If you were Kirishima, you would’ve taken him hiking to a new mountain someplace else in Japan + a weekend glamping getaway

If you were Sero, you would’ve gone to do something relaxing, maybe a spa? Aerial yoga? Definitely not to just see his ass in some yoga pants

If you were Kaminari-

Well, that’s actually an interesting thought… What would you have done if you were Kaminari?

Bakugou wearing a black, see-through thong, the most sensual looking lace garterbelt you could find in his size and a pretty black bow sitting on his ass is what you managed to come up with

Sure. At first he was ready to fight, but then he remembered who you were so obedient baby boy mode was activated without any more fuss. That, and his fucking fantasies.

He’s also been fantasizing for the past few weeks leading up to his birthday about how you’d probably ride him. Maybe fuck him? He doesn’t care, just wants to be babied and loved and fucked good until he passes out to wake up a week later.

Maybe not, he still has work to do

Another reason he put up with this is because, y’know, you tend to be nicer on special days so-

Bakugou wearing a garterbelt makes you feel so many levels of horny in a span of 30 seconds once you see it on him. It accentuates his already envious waist line even more. God, you can’t wait to see him bent over and ass up.

So you tell him gently to do so from where you’re sitting, and he does it so prettily.

Reminds you of a graceful cat, the way he turns around on the bed, chest already down onto the bed sheets as he pulls his torso as close to his knees as possible. Juicy ass is as high as it could be and wow, the thong doesn’t do a good work at hiding the glimmer of the diamond butt plug.

Pity it didn’t come in any other color than white, but it came with the lingerie.

You didn’t even warn him when you turn the butt plug on.

The promised low setting already sounding pretty loud, his small huffs indicating it’s not as overwhelming yet.

Good.

But by now, you’ve left it on for a good while, watching as he tries not to lose his balance or shuffle too much to ‘lose the appeal’.

He’s cursing at you in airy moans, vermillion eyes glaring at you. Why are you teasing him? You’re meant to be nice.

It’s his fucking birthday

You’d punish him for his impatience, but you already punished him the day before.

You don’t want him not being fucked in the ass so you turn the vibrator up to the last setting, smiling sweetly as he curses even louder

This is still punishing but nice, right?

He seems to agree

His arms are restless, moving from staying beside him to moving above his head to grip at the sheets.

His hands also go to grab his ass and pull the cheeks apart to show you how he’s clenching desperately around the toy, whining about how he needs you right now, to stop fucking around and get your big ass cock in him or else-

But that “or else” doesn’t really get finished, not with you startling him with your speed and sight of the ribbons.

His arms are tied now, forcing him to keep spreading his ass, to keep showing himself off.

This has him burying his face into the bed, hiding how red he’s gotten from embarrassment.

You don’t allow that, so you press your hand onto the plug to push it in deeper.

He yells out your name, body jolting as the toy relentlessly messes with his prostate while your other hand curiously goes to touch the front.

The thong is absolutely soaked and sticky, and when you move your fingers against the fabric to feel just how sticky it is, Bakugou tries humping them, well, really just trying to rub his dick against your fingers because wow the stimulation of the fabric is n i c e.

But you’re not having it just yet, you wanna appreciate his perfect posture a bit more.

Reminder: the butt plug is already at its highest setting.

So the next best thing you can do is smack his ass because your baby loves that, loves how you leave compliments and praise for how it jiggles and gets a pretty red. He does it for you, after all, makes sure it’s always at its best presentation.

But he’ll never tell you shit because then you’ll tease him and embarrass him in front of his friends.

So a few slaps in, being careful with his hands, all followed by cooing at how it moves, how it blushes, how it’s now matching his face and probably dick too, has him trying to fuck back into the vibrator, but he’s humping absolutely nothing and growing more and more desperate and horny.

You back away from the bed, going for your camera to take another pic for your growing collection.

On the bed lies Bakugou Katsuki, all tied up, lingerie getting sticky with precum, the laciest garterbelt you’ve ever seen decorating his waist while he’s panting heavily, ass in the air, face completely red and wet, whether it be his sweat or tears.

He’s holding his ass apart to show you the vibrating diamond butt plug that’s been stuck in the highest setting, buzzing away as he’s whimpering your name, hiccuping “mommy, mommy, mommy” as he pleads for mercy, wiggling his ass as he tries luring you back to his body.

“M-mommy! Hnnnm tuh-touch me! Plea-ease? Please~”

Hey, aren’t you supposed to be nice? Eh...

He can’t come alone from the vibrating butt plug, never has been able to before, and if his rocking hips don’t indicate how much he wants to either fuck the bed or have your hand on it, you just ignore it.

Let’s see if tonight he’ll be able to cum hands-free for once. And make sure he cries more and more everytime he gets to cum from your cock and only because of your cock.

Basically that’s your birthday gift. Fuck him good until he either forgets his name, he's a babbling, crying mess, he's completely milked, or all of the above.

After hours of being edged by the toy he finally came, but in thin, small amounts, so you had to fuck out a few more rounds and cum out of him before he passed out.

In all honesty, he begged you to fuck him until he passed out. He had been fantasizing about it, after all.

After you both had your final orgasm of the night, rather early morning, he’s in tears, body trembling through the last tremors of his 2nd dry orgasm out of what? 7 orgasms? The copious amount of cum he’s managed to get milked out of him drying everywhere on his body, drool wetting the bed sheets even more than they were, room smelling like caramel, asshole fluttering around nothing and dick twitching as if wanting more.

Bakugou’s speaking gibberish at this point, the only coherent words leaving his dumb mouth being “mommy”, “more” or your name as he slowly succumbs to his exhaustion.

You give him your premium grade A aftercare during the little time he remained conscious and took care of everything else as he slept.

Next day, you cook breakfast, even if he grumbled about the taste or appearance.

He’s a good boy, he’s not gonna yell at you or be ungrateful with anything and everything you do, considering you put up with his anger. I mean, he gives his opinions, insights, inquiries through loving shouts of disapproval and approval.

All in all, he liked his birthday, but told you he kind of expected you to throw a party and had mentally prepared himself

Goddamn it. Guess next year you’ll call Mina for some help

#bnha smut #mha smut #bakugou smut #bakugou x reader #bakugou katsuki smut #sub bakugou #sub bnha #ლ; blasphemy #𝖇𝖆𝖐𝖚𝖌𝖔𝖚

[herofics]

hey, I hope you're doing well! I was wondering if you could do a suicidal female s/o texting their boyfriend goodbye and having him rush home to save them just in time? if it's not too much to ask, one for aizawa and one for kirishima would be incredible, but otherwise just one for aizawa would be great

I did both of the guys and in Kiri's case I'd say they're in their twenties and living together. And sorry this took forever.

Warnings: Themes of depression and suicide and dissociation I guess

~Kirishima Eijirou~

You didn’t know what the hell you were supposed to do anymore. Everything felt like it was falling apart and all the control you had ever had over anything, was slipping through your fingers. You couldn’t deal with this, and you weren’t sure you even wanted to anymore.

You had been pretty much just walking back and forth the whole day. You hadn’t eaten anything, and you hadn’t slept well for weeks. It was all getting to be way too much for you, so you decided you didn’t want this anymore, this shit, this life.

You sent Kirishima a message with only three words: “I’m sorry, goodbye”

Kirishima was working late at his and Bakugou’s agency, but this was the last night he would be doing so this week, since he had arranged himself some time off.

“I’m gonna go now, (Name) is waiting for me at home” Kirishima waved at Bakugou, who was still stuck behind a mountain of paperwork.

“Yeah, just fuck off and leave me here with this shit” Bakugou growled.

Kirishima felt bad for leaving him, but not bad enough to stay and help, he wanted to get back home to you.

“You’ll get it done, you always do” Kirishima encouraged.

“Yeah, yeah, just go home” Bakugou groaned.

Kirishima smiled and basically bounced down the stairs of the agency. He decided to finally check his phone, since he had been kind of neglecting it the whole day, not on purpose of course, he had just been very busy.

He had a message from you, it just said: “I’m sorry, goodbye”

“Huh?” he said out loud.

Kirishima didn’t understand, or maybe his brain just didn’t accept the words on the screen, but before he knew it, he was running. Your shared apartment was a few kilometers away from the agency, and Kirishima didn’t stop running before he was standing in front of the door. His hands were trembling so badly he couldn’t get the keys in the lock, so he just opted for kicking down the door.

“(Name)! (Name)!” he shouted.

You had filled the tub with warm water and gotten out the sharpest razor blade you could find. You were just going to step into the tub when you heard someone bust down the front door. You could hear Kirishima yelling your name.

A tremendous amount of guilt washed over you, as you threw the razor into the tub like it was burning your hand. Your legs gave out from under you and you dropped to your knees on the floor.

Kirishima went to try the bathroom door, when he heard a thud inside.

“(Name)? Let me in” he said.

Kirishima tried to remain as calm as he could, but he was definitely having a hard time with that. He could hear you sobbing in the bathroom, but you unlocked the door anyway. You collapsed into his arms as he opened it and clung onto his hoodie like your life depended on it.

“It’s okay, I’m here” Kirishima sniffled as he embraced you.

You and Kirishima sat in the doorway, him holding you in his arms. He was shaking, almost as much as you were and breathing raggedly from the shock and all the running he had just done.

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry Eiji…” you kept sobbing.

Kirishima just kept holding you close. How hadn’t he seen this coming? Why hadn’t he noticed? He knew you hadn’t been doing well but he couldn’t have imagined you would ever resort to anything so drastic, something so… final. He never wanted to let go of you again.

~Aizawa Shouta~

Aizawa’s phone rang in the middle of gym class, but as he was busy with looking after his students, he didn’t answer and turned the sound off.

You had been on sick leave for a while now, for various reasons, but today everything was especially bad. You felt like a stranger in your own body, your hands didn’t look or feel like your own and you hadn’t spoken a word all day, because your voice didn’t sound like your own either. Shouta had been gone in the morning when you had woken up, it was the start of a new school year after all and he had to go put some kids in their place. You just really hoped he would answer the phone, because you really needed him right now.

You could feel yourself getting worse as the hours went by, and by the time it hit two in the afternoon, you were sitting on the living room couch, staring at your hands.

“Whose hands are these?” you could hear someone ask, and even though you could feel your mouth move, you couldn’t recognize the voice that came out.

Your head was spinning and you couldn’t think straight. You grabbed your phone off the coffee table and wobbled into the bedroom, and started rummaging through the various medications you kept in your nightstand. You just wanted it to stop, you just wanted it all to stop.

When you found the medication you were looking for, you opened the bottle and poured the contents on your hand. They were such small pills, harmless in small doses, beneficial even, but with the amount you were about to take, they were anything but harmless. You downed the whole handful, and washed them down with some water. When you laid down, you placed your phone next to your face and dialed Shouta.

He had just let out the last class of the day, and had picked up his phone just in time to see you calling.

“Hey, I’m sorry I didn’t pick up earlier, but I’ve been busy with the new class and-”

“Shouta...” you sobbed into the phone.

“I’m coming” he said without hesitation.

He had had a pit in his stomach the whole day, ever since he left you in the morning, he had forced himself to ignore it the whole time, but now he regretted it. Luckily though, your house wasn’t very far from UA and he got there quite quickly.

He dashed straight up the stairs and into the bedroom. You were laying there, crying on the bed.

He sighed in relief, because you didn’t seem to be hurt, but he quickly noticed the empty pill bottle on the floor next to the bed.

“No” he whispered.

He quickly knelt down beside the bed and grabbed the empty medication bottle from the floor.

“How much did you take? How many were in here?” he asked frantically, waving the bottle in your face.

You had a hard time keeping your eyes open. When Shouta talked, it sounded like the voice was coming from somewhere very far away. You managed to lift your hand and put it on his cheek. You brushed his cheek with your thumb before you couldn’t hold your hand up anymore. Your eyelids felt so very heavy and you couldn’t fight the darkness anymore, so you gave in. You lost consciousness.

As your hand went limp, Aizawa took a deep breath. He was a pro-hero, he was supposed to be able to keep calm in any kind of situation. He grabbed his phone and dialed the emergency number, telling them what you had taken and that you had fallen unconscious.

When you woke up, your head was pounding and you felt like you were about to throw up. You weren’t sure where you were, but you were pretty sure you were laying on a bed. You had a hard time getting your eyes open but when you did, you noticed the room you were in was only dimly lit.

You looked around a bit and noticed Shouta was sitting on a chair next to your bed, just staring at you. He looked so relieved, but also like he wanted to punch the nearest wall, his expression quickly changed to a more gentle and worried one though.

“You’re awake” he said and grabbed your hand, bringing it to his face and pressing his forehead to your hand.

“I-I’m sorry” you said and looked down, you couldn’t look at him, you felt too ashamed.

Your tears were falling on the covers and you were looking at your other hand. What had you done? Why had you done it? You could only really give a satisfactory answer to the first question.

“What were you thinking?” Aizawa asked as he lifted his head, but didn’t let go of your hand.

“I don’t think I was, not really” you said, still not looking at him.

“Hey, look at me” he said and grabbed your chin gently, trying to turn your head towards him.

You turned your head, and he could just feel his heart break. You looked so hurt and guilt ridden, but above that, you looked tired. How hadn’t he noticed the look in your eyes before now? Your eyes had darkened and it looked like there was no light in them anymore. You looked so… hopeless.

“I’m sorry I didn’t see this coming, I’m sorry I don’t know how to help you” Aizawa said with tears brimming in his eyes.

“You have to know that this isn’t your fault or responsibility, it’s mine and I’m so sorry to have burdened you with this” you said, wiping away his tears with the sleeve of your shirt. “I love you Shouta”

“I love you too” Aizawa said and kissed your hand. He swore in his head that he would do everything he possibly could for this to never happen again.

#bnha #mha #my hero academia #boku no hero academia #aizawa shouta #kirishima eijirou #bnha scenarios #mha scenarios #bnha angst #mha angst #bnha x reader #mha x reader #bnha fanfiction #mha fanfiction #suicide tw #depression

[greenbergwrites]

For smutty Sunday, I saw this p*rn today called Boy for Sale and it basically involved this absolute daddy of a top inspecting and testing out his brand new boy and honestly I felt DRUNK watching it! It was so much body worship, obedience, edging and praise! I would love to see your take on that sort of scenario if you please 👉👈 like maybe set in a different timeline like Edwardian or even Ancient Greece or Rome??

You sent this to me over a year ago, and I love it so goddamn much, you have no idea how much I’ve thought about this prompt 

I’ve tried to fill it multiple times but I could never decide how I wanted this to go. I still don’t have a set path, but I’m gonna try to just write and see what happens, because I want to fill it. Worth a shot, right?

Also, it’s A/B/O because--well, you should expect this from me by now.

--

The boy was beautiful. It was no wonder the handler saved this room for last.

“A treat,” he’d promised, in that conspiratorial voice that was meant to make you think you were special, that not everyone was allowed to see what you were about to view. James knew better, but he’d entertained it nonetheless.

Now, he was glad. 

Amid a sea of vividly colored pillows and furs, a treasure the likes of which he’d never seen was nestled. Hair the color of gold fanned over a pillow of red, eyelashes of a shade darker fanned over fine cheekbones. Porcelain skin flushed the most attractive pink from the afternoon’s heat. A delicately built body curled in on itself, covered in only a light blue tunic made from a gauzy, sheer material.

The scent of him filled the room, and it was sweet. Inviting. 

As the handler drew closer to his nest, his sandals slapping against the dusty, stone floor, the Omega sluggishly blinked open eyes that would put even the purest sapphire to shame.

He looked first to the handler and then to James. Slowly, he pushed himself up. There was nothing particularly seductive about his posture or his scent, but as he watched the Omega rub sleep from his eyes, James found himself seduced nonetheless.

Already, he knew this was the one. The Omega he would take. He would have no other, and he would allow no other to have this boy.

“Up,” the handler said. It irritated James, how unkind he sounded.

He pointed to a battered, circular rug in the middle of the room. Each of the previous rooms had had one, too. It was where each occupant might best be viewed.

Silently, the Omega left his nest and went. When he stepped onto the rug, he gracefully sank to his knees. It wasn’t what the others had done, and somehow, that made it special.

James walked the edge of the rug, as if he hadn’t already made his decision. Viewing the boy from every angle, and finding himself enchanted by each one.

“He is our newest one,” the handler was saying. “But a treat, as I said, no? Freshly of mating age, a runt sent to us from a secluded pack in the mountains. They raise their Omegas according to the old ways. He is entirely untouched. A rarity, but I must warn you, it comes at a price. Untouched also means untrained, my Alpha.”

A runt. James had known the boy was small, even for an Omega, but he hadn’t dreamed--

A runt, and they’d just sent him away. Sent him here, to be chosen by just any Alpha.

An Omega like this should have been jealously hoarded, his mate meticulously vetted to make sure he would be properly cared for. 

Even if he hadn’t already chosen this boy, James would have taken him just to protect him.

He squatted down in front of the Omega, reaching out to offer his exposed wrist. The boy glanced at it, and then slowly lifted his gaze to James.

James smiled and nodded. 

“Take my scent, pup,” he encouraged gently.

Hesitantly, the Omega obeyed. His nose brushed against James’ wrist as he inhaled once, twice, three times. A soft breath escaped his lips as he shuddered, and then he pressed closer, inhaling again.

After a fourth time, he sat back on his heels, his breathing uneven and his blue eyes glassy.

“How did it make you feel?” James asked, brushing his fingers through the boy’s hair.

“Warm,” the boy said, his voice just as soft and sweet as the rest of him. He pressed a hand to his lower stomach. “In my--in my belly. Here.”

A rumble of approval vibrated James’ chest. He let his knuckles brush against a smooth cheek. The boy shivered again.

“And my touch?” He asked. “How does that make you feel?”

There was no need to ask. With every word and every touch, every passing second where the boy was close to his scent, his own scent grew heavier with arousal. It tickled James’ nose, invited him to topple the boy and mount him.

Soon, he promised himself. Soon, but not yet.

“Good,” the boy breathed out, those pretty eyelashes fluttering. “And--and bad.”

That drew James up short. He slowly withdrew his hand, eyebrows knitting together. The boy whined, trying to follow his touch, and that only confused him more.

“Bad?” He asked.

The boy blinked up at him, a need swirling in his blue eyes that James wanted to answer.

“It hurts when you stop, Alpha,” he said plainly, so openly vulnerable, innocently unaware of how such vulnerability could be taken advantage of outside these walls and in the wrong hands.

James cupped his cheek again. 

“Then I won’t stop,” he promised. He caressed the boy’s cheek and then his neck, letting his fingers curl at the base of his skull to lightly scratch. The boy fell into the touch beautifully, another shudder of pleasure wracking his lithe body.

“Alpha,” he gasped sweetly, blindly reaching out, clutching at James’ arm. “Alpha, please.”

“Look at me, pup.”

The boy’s head lolled forward, resting against James’ forearm. He already looked pleasure drunk. It riled every instinct James had, in both good and bad ways. A few touches shouldn’t do this to anyone, not even an Omega. Not even when that touch was from an Alpha.

“Is it true, what he said?” He asked gently. “Are you untouched?”

A clumsy nod. “Yes, Alpha.”

“How untouched, pup? Did you wrestle with your Omega packmates? Did you hug each other? Pile up under the moon, maybe?”

The boy shook his head. “We weren’t allowed,” he said.

James’ lips pressed into a thin line. Touch-starved. His little mate had been denied even the most innocent of touches. Deprived of one of the most important senses to their kind, but especially to Omegas. They thrived under the touch of their packs.

The pack Alpha responsible for this should be stripped of his title. Banished, punished in the worst of ways. 

The Omega shrank a little, obviously feeling his displeasure.

“Am I bad, Alpha?” He whispered.

“No, pup,” James promised. He drew the Omega forward, kissing between his brows. “Nothing about you is bad.”

The handler made a furious noise, but any words of protest were silenced by James’ glare. 

“Find my second,” he ordered. “Discuss the necessary details with them. I wish to leave as soon as possible.”

The handler hesitated, looking between James and the Omega. “Then you--”

“Yes,” James snapped. “Now go.”

When they were finally alone, he let his gaze return to the boy, his glare melting into something infinitely softer.

“What’s your name, pup?”

“Steve,” the boy said. And then, before James could reply in kind, he blurted, “Don’t leave, Alpha. Please.”

James smiled and kissed his forehead again.

“Don’t worry, little one,” he soothed. “You’re coming with me.”

#nani asks #greenberg replies #a/b/o dynamics #boy for sale #i didn't even get to the good stuff #my bad #but hey! i also came up with a D/s version of this while writing it #because that's the way my brain works #what the fuck ever #i wrote something!!! for the first time in like a year!!!!!

[unhealthyfanobsession]

If you’re still taking prompts:

“Keeping a secret from your best friend is difficult... but when that secret is that you're madly in love with her, it's downright impossible. At least that's what Cassian thought, until he was a little tipsy and sharing a sleeping bag with said best friend. (College, modern AU)”

With smut please?🧎🏾‍♀️🙏🏽👀🥺

Oh hey bestie! So I think maybe you had like after a college party in mind for this but I went a… different way. Also it’s only smut-adjacent because I think good smut requires a Drabble of its own I think I’m sorry. Hope you enjoy!!!

Camping.

Nesta had two weeks between the end of her internship and the beginning of her last year of college, and somehow, she let herself get dragged along on her sister’s annual camping trip.

Their whole friend group was weird and twisted around like Ivy vines with who was closest to who, who was related to who, who was dating who, who had slept with who’s father (looking at you MOR!), and Nesta tended to avoid the big group things.

But this was only Feyre, Rhys, Azriel, and the real reason she was there… Cassian. Fucking Cassian dragging her off into the woods.

Nesta loved her sisters. She did. She wouldn’t spend time with them and pretend she didn’t hate their boyfriends if she didn’t love them. (Pretending not to hate Rhys and Lucien, for Nesta, pretty much required the energy of a full time job.)

She loved her sisters. But she was there for Cassian. Because she liked Cassian. Genuinely and entirely liked him. Nesta Archeron liked another human being. They’d been best friends since eighth grade when he tried to ask her out on the swing set and she elbowed him in the jaw.

Saying yes to that middle school date would’ve been the worst mistake of her life. Because then she’d have had this short drama filled relationship with Cassian and she wouldn’t have gotten to keep him. And she really loved that she got to keep him. Even if sometimes she wished he’d been her first kiss instead of Tomas.

Anyway, when he said he was going on this camping trip Nesta realized she had to go too. Because there was no way she was spending her free time somewhere that he wasn’t. He was her person. The person she wanted to spend her free time with.

“Pathetic,” Cassian grinned, plucking the pack right off of her back as if it weighed no more than a purse. As if she hadn’t been struggling under its weight for the past 4 kilometres.

“I agreed to camping. I didn’t realize a 7 hour hike was involved to get to the damn place.”

“Two hours at most, sweetheart.” Nesta scowled, pretending, as she always did, to hate his little endearments. “And all of the best spots require a hike. Otherwise they’re overcrowded.”

“Maybe overcrowded is a good thing. Maybe overcrowded means loud and safe instead of offering ourselves up to be a bear buffet.”

“I’ll protect you from any bears, I promise, Nes.”

Nesta glared. “You’re going to fight off a bear if it tries to eat me?”

“Of course I am,” Cassian nodded. “These muscles aren’t just for show.”

Nesta laughed. “How sad I’m going to lose my best friend on this trip. Don’t worry I’ll come up with something nice for the tombstone. “Here lies Cassian. Tried to fight a bear so his muscles would have a purpose.”

“I take it back, you can get eaten by the bear.”

“I’m going to shove you in front of the bear.”

Their water break had landed then both a few hundred feet behind Feyre, Rhys, and Azriel, so Cassian kept hold of her backpack as they moved, teasing her that he was still faster with two packs than she was with none.

When they arrived at the little clearing Nesta had to admit it was beautiful. Serene. A big patch of grass surrounded by trees with a stunning view over the mountains from a clearing just a few feet away.

“Worth the hike?” Cassian asked as he set up their tent. That was the deal. If Nesta was going to camp then he had to do all of the work. Because she didn’t know how to do it. Also he had to share his tent with her because seriously? Why would she own a tent? She wasn’t a damn mountain man.

“It is really pretty.”

“I told you you’d like camping, Nesta!” Feyre called out from over fifty feet away where Azriel, Cassian, and Nesta all banded together to force her and Rhys to put their tent. Far away from the other two. Nesta was so not sleeping on the ground AND listening to her little sister have sex all night.

“Cassian?” Consciousness pulled lightly through Cassian’s sleepy mind. “Cass? CASS!” He shot bolt upright, body instinctively turning to Nesta, looking her over, checking her for injuries or any other thing that might have her yelling his name into the pitch black tent.

“Oh good, you’re awake.”

Cassian laughed. It was probably 3am and she’d just woken him up, and still he was laughing. Man he had it bad.

“What’s up, buttercup?” He made a show of flipping around to face her even though he couldn’t really see her.

“I’m freezing.”

As his eyes adjusted, Cassian looked her over with a frown. She was bundled up in her sleeping bag, wearing his sweater… which he hadn’t given her, but he had discarded in between them before he went to sleep so that was fair game he guessed. It was far from the first time in over a decade of friendship that she’d stolen his sweater, but man… it still did something to him.

“Your sleeping bag isn’t made for below freezing temperatures, is it?”

Nesta stared at him. Blinked. “No. Why would it have to be? It’s August!”

“It’s colder up in the mountains,” Cassian explained. “Especially over night.”

“Great. I’ve been brought into the mountains to freeze to death and now Eris is going to win the gold medal for our year.”

Cassian laughed, “Well I can’t allow that. The horror.” This was probably a bad idea. No it was definitely a bad idea, but the words couldn’t be stopped from leaving his mouth once they popped into his mind. “Come share mine.”

Cassian half unzipped his sleeping bag and made a show of shuffling himself over.

“You’re too big.” She said.

“Thanks I work out,” Nesta glared at his cocky smirk. “Come on Nes, it’s this or letting Eris win the gold medal.”

Nesta huffed, but unzipped her sleeping bag and crawled over to his, her legs were cool as they tangled with his in the tight sleeping bag. Cassian pulled her in, one arm wrapping instinctively around her shoulders to pull her against his chest, before he zipped the sleeping bag up again after her.

This had been such a bad idea. But what could he do? Let her freeze?

Cassian told Nesta everything, so it was already difficult enough to be keeping a secret from his best friend... but when that secret was that he had been madly in love with her since middle school, the situation became impossible. And pulling her perfect body tight up against his and wrapping her in his arms, hands moving up and down her shoulders quickly to try and warm her up, was not helping the situation.

“Thanks,” Nesta murmured sleepily. “I’m already a lot more comfortable.”

Me too, Cassian thought but would never say.

“Hey Cass?” Nesta’s voice was teasing. “What do we do if you wake up with morning wood?”

Cassian chuckled into her hair, a little bit drunk on the familiar scent of rosehips and iron will.

“Then I guess we’ll finally have sex.” He deadpanned.

Nesta’s jaw dropped. Ok. Bad joke. “I’m not having sex with you for the first time in a tent Cassian!”

Now Cassian’s jaw dropped. That was her issue with his suggestion? “I… Nesta I was joking. But… the tent is the problem? The only problem?”

“Grow a pair!” Nesta batted at him with her hand, an impressive feat considering she was all but pinned between him and the sleeping bag. “I thought this was you finally making a move.”

Cassian stared down at her. It was pitch black, but even with just the shadowy outlines of her features, he could see her exact expression in his mind.

“I wouldn’t use you freezing as a ploy to make a move, Nesta.”

“And why not?” She humphed, “it’s the perfect opportunity.”

“It’s… coercive.”

“Do I look coerced to you, Cassian?” Nesta ran her foot up his bare calf and Cassian shuddered.

“I can’t have sex with you if you’re looking for a friends with benefits, Nes.” Nesta paused her movements. “I… fuck, our friendship means so much to me and I’m so afraid to fuck it up. And if we start having sex I won’t be able to handle it being just sex and you’ll start to resent me so we just… shouldn’t go there.”

Nesta’s arms wrapped around him now, struggling to span the full width of his chest. “And if it wasn’t just sex?”

“Please don’t fuck with me about this,” he whispered. Low and Ernest in a way he almost never was.

“What?”

“Dont joke about this if you’re playing around or I don’t… you have to know, Nes. You have to know how completely in love with you I am.”

“Yeah,” Nesta tucked her head under his chin. “I know. I’ve just been waiting for you to make a move.”

It was dark. Cassian could barely see her. But there, with his arms around his best friend in the world, sharing a sleeping bag to keep her warm, Cassian nudged her out of his chest and found her lips in the pitch black.

Why had he kept this secret for so long? Everything in the world was better when he was kissing his best friend.

#nessian #drabbles open #nesta archeron #acosf #nessian fanfiction #cassian #nesta and cassian #a court of thorns and roses #sarah j maas #a court of silver flames #a court of mist and fury #acotar #feysand