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#sorry this is just fanfiction
vimbry · 2 years
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I had dream last night where someone told me they'd joined a service that promotes n/fts. and I was like nooo oh no, and started explaining how bad those things were. they paused, and went "... would mr krabs do n/fts" and I said yes mr krabs would do n/fts. they got on their computer and angrily tried to unsubscribe.
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puraiuddo · 11 months
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FanFiction.net is not gone.
Right now it's a victim of DNS (Domain Name Service) spoofing. This means that a malicious party is trying to steal traffic from FFn by purchasing a very similar domain.
Correction:
The new "fake" site that people are seeing still belongs to FanFiction.net—they just misconfigured their servers and are not redirecting traffic from the bare fanfiction.net to the main site at www.fanfiction.net. There is likely no malicious agent. Didn't mean to scare anyone! Just wanted to let people know the site wasn't deleted!
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So if you want to read fanfiction and not see leaves, you have have to type out "www.fanfiction.net".
Please share so people stop panicking.
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frownyalfred · 1 year
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hello. this is a PSA. ao3 is NOT releasing your browsing history, despite what you may have heard on tiktok.
if you’re signed into ao3, your history is viewable in the dashboard tab. it always has been, nothing is changing. please don’t believe everything you hear on tiktok.
no one is able to view your browsing history unless they are signed into your account.
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rafeandonlyrafe · 20 days
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deliveries
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words: 1.2k
warnings: ex!rafe, reconciliation, kinda sugar daddy rafe but he just likes taking care of his girl mhm iktr
“can i say no?” you sigh.
“say no? did you not place this delivery?” the man raises his eyebrows.
“i didn't. my- my ex did.”
“well, i have to deliver it, ma’am, but i don't care what you do with it afterwards. give it to your friends or throw it out.” the man sets the bags of food at your doorstep, snapping a picture before walking off.
you can't blame him, plus it's probably a situation he's never encountered before.
you sigh as you pick up the bags, carrying them into the kitchen counter. packages, deliveries and letters have been showing up on your doorstep for two weeks, ever since you broke up with rafe.
you're sick of it at this point. as you go through the food, picking out something to eat for dinner (you're not just gonna let it go to waste!) you grab your phone and unblock rafes number.
you wonder how long it will take him to realize as you sit at your desk and eat. you're in an apartment complex with pretty tight security, it's the only reason why rafe isn't knocking at your door himself, instead sending whoever he can to get a message to you, while simultaneously making sure you have plenty of food to eat and things to take care of yourself with.
you answer your phone after the first ring. you deleted his contact, but rafes number is forever memorized in your head.
“stop sending me things.” 
“baby, its a relief to hear your voice again.” rafe sighs, sounding genuinely happy, like a weight is suddenly off his chest. “please, let me just talk to you. i miss you so much.”
“no, rafe. we broke up. you need to stop.” 
“why'd you break up with me? what did you tell me princess?” rafe questions. “i wasn't giving you enough attention. now im giving you everything. please, y/n.” he pleads. “im not going to stop.”
you take a deep sigh. you really love rafe, despite your relationship being only six months old when you broke up with him, it was just too much. too much attention from your friends and too much pressure from his family. it pushed your relationship farther apart until rafe barely paid attention to you, receiving constant questions from his dad and friends.
“you have to, rafe. clearly things weren't working out. we tried. we can say that. gave it a fair shot.”
“im not done trying. yes, i let my family and other people get into my head about our relationship, but im done with that bullshit. i want you back.”
“let me think about it, okay?” it's an olive branch. the best thing that you can extend right now.
“okay.” rafe agrees. “how about i call you friday?”
you glance at the calendar hanging over your desk. two days. two days to think. you're not sure it's enough or too much.
“that works… but rafe, stop sending me stuff.”
“i can't, baby.” you can practically see the way he's shaking his head right now. “gotta take care of my girl, even if you don't wanna see me.”
“fine.” you groan. you know there's no talking rafe out of it. “order me some lemonade next time then.”
--
you yawn as you wake up with a big stretch, instinctively reaching over to the other side of the bed. your hand pats the sheets before remembering that you left rafe.
you slide out of bed, heading towards your kitchen to get something for breakfast when a knock on your door interrupts you.
“one second!” you're in pajamas, but they're far too small and tight to answer the door in. you rush back into your bedroom and pull a robe on to cover up.
“hi!” the delivery woman smiles. “y/n?”
“yup.” you nod, stepping to the side. “do you mind just setting it down on the counter?”
the woman places the bags down before saying goodbye and seeing herself out. you sigh and look into the bags, eyes bulging when you see velvet boxes carefully placed inside one of them.
you pull out one of the boxes, gasping when a beautiful diamond necklace is revealed. you continue to open them, realizing rafe bought you jewelry of almost every variety.
“oh, gosh.” you grab a note, opening it to see his handwriting.
it's just what you deserve. i love you and want you back. can't wait to talk to you tomorrow.
rafe
p.s. i paid your rent for the next three months
you grab your phone before even looking in the other bag, dialing rafes number. he picks up almost instantly.
“you know you can't buy my love, right?” 
“im not trying to.” rafe says. “im just trying to take care of you. did you get the breakfast?”
you peek into the other bag, seeing a stack of delicious looking pancakes inside a clear container, as well as some other options.
“yeah, ill eat it in a minute.”
“good.” you can practically hear rafes smile over the phone.
“how about we meet up in person to talk tomorrow instead of on the phone?”
“ill go wherever you want.”
“our first date.” is all you say before hanging up, grabbing the pancakes and container holding scrambled eggs.
--
you're aware you didn't say what time as you pull up to the pier. it's a warm day, sunny with almost no clouds in the sky, but a light breeze gives you the perfect amount of cooling.
you walk down the pier, unable to hold back your smile when you see rafe sitting on the bench where you ate ice cream on your first date after finally agreeing to let him take you out.
rafe watches you carefully as you sit down next to him.
“you're wearing the necklace i got you.” he smiles, seeing the gold chain around your neck.
“i am.” you nod. 
“can i… can i hug you? ive missed you so much baby.”
you nod again, not sure you can find your voice as rafes arms wrap around your body, holding you into his side. you snuggle into his chest, eyes sliding shut. 
“love you so much.” rafe says, pressing kisses to the top of your head. “so much i messed up the first time not trying to be too obsessed. i just didn't want to make you run away, turns out i did the exact opposite and you felt ignored. you know how my dad is…” rafe trails off as you pick your head up to look at him.
“we shouldn't have let others get between us.” you know you're not innocent in it either, contributing just as much to rafe to the tension that had grown between the two of you.
“and we won't let it happen again now that we know.” rafe says, a promising look in his eyes. you swear it looks like he might cry as you nod.
he ducks his head, pressing your lips together in a sweet kiss. you fist your hands in his shirt, keeping him close as you kiss back, having missed his lips on yours more than you'd like to admit.
“does this mean you'll tell security im allowed back in?” rafe laughs gently, cupping your face, his thumb gently stroking over your cheek.
“hmm, i guess.” you giggle.
taglist: @drewstarkeyslut @forstarkey @f4ll-for-you @dilvcv @drudyslut @jjmaybankswifes-blog @rafescokenostril @jjsmarijuana @seeingstarks @angelofcigs @cece45450 @babygorewhore @vanessa-rafesgirl @michelleisheres-blog @outerbankspov @drewstarkeyswifehoe @cutielando @sourkittie @rafeyslove @rafeinterlude @bellbottombaby @deeaardiary @rubixgsworld @wearemadeofstardust0 @leighbronk @starkeysheart @pradabambie @tobesolovelysstuff @alexiskirkland @rafestar @brioffthegrid @juniebugg @magicalyoura @cokepewpsii @mysticallystilinski @luvdella @aerangi @vogueprincess @auryyz @raysmayhem-72 @thestarlithideout @marvelfanfics1recs @rafesgiirl @ditzyzombiesblog @chiaraanatra @tobiaslut @drewsephrry @1aarii1 @bejeweledreverie @winterrrnight
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help-itrappedmyself · 2 months
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Dead on Main AU
Masterpost
Guys, I'm so sorry. But here's this!
~~~~
Danny blinks and he is somewhere else. He’s sitting at a dining room table, surrounded. There are so many people here. They’re all talking over each other, some yelling, some laughing. This scene comes as a great surprise to him, who -one blink ago- was trying and failing to do his homework at home in his room. Danny shoots up, his chair making a horrible noise as he pushes it away so fast it tumbles over. Everyone in the room turns to look over at him like he’s insane. 
“Oh my god, who are you people?” Danny did not mean to say this out loud, but at the sound of his voice he startles. Danny takes a moment to assess, and then, “Oh my god who am I?”  He is tall, and big, and this is certainly not his body, what is he wearing.
The boy sitting to the right of Danny, a little shorter than he is, with black hair and blue eyes (though now that he’s paying attention that does describe most people in the room),  starts chuckling lightly. “Uh, Jason? Are you good?” 
Danny turns to stare him right in the eyes. “What day is it?”
And he can tell the concern around the table is just ratcheting up every time he opens his stupid mouth.
“Did you hit your head on patrol?” The voice comes from the only blond and one of the only girls in the room, who's to the left of the person across from him. The person across from him is another boy with black hair and blue eyes who is studying Danny in a way that makes him uncomfortable, that under-a-microscope look that makes you feel like you’re failing at something.
“I have no idea if Jason hit his head.” Danny says. “I was just trying to remember if it was my birthday.”
And if he thought the room was busy when he first arrived here it is absolute pandemonium now. Everyone starts shouting and asking questions that he can’t even hear over the shouting. Someone with white hair in a suit just came through a door he didn’t even see earlier to stand by the only person not shouting, who -Danny would guess- is the only other adult in this room, witting at the head of the table. He also has black hair and blue eyes, and where almost everyone else’s reaction was panic, he froze instead. The person across from Danny also isn’t shouting, but the person next to Danny on his right has now fully stood up and looks like he might actually jump across the table to win the argument he ended up in. 
“Are you Jason’s soulmate?” is the main gist of the shouting that Danny can interpret but he’s more concerned with actual Jason at the moment. If they switched bodies... Then Jason might be in trouble…
“Hey, I forget, how long is this body swap supposed to last again?” Danny asks.
“Until you and Jason have physical contact. You have to actually meet.” The boy sitting across from him explains. He seems like one of the only ones that heard Danny talk, everyone else was still shouting. 
“Oh, that just seems terrible. What if we’re in different countries or something?” Danny complained. “Everyone in the world is just supposed to be able to drop everything and afford to fly across the world. The universe is really trying to screw people over now. Honestly, am I in a different country? Where even are we right now?”
“You’re in Gotham.” This voice was new, coming from the head of the table to Danny’s right. 
“Oh no. Nope.” Danny started backing away from the table, almost tripping on his overturned chair. “Absolutely not, no, how do I get out of here?” He starts earnestly looking for a door to get out of this place, but there are three doors he can see and he has no idea where any of them go, and doesn’t this room have any windows? What kind of a room doesn’t have any windows? Do they like to eat in a basement?
“Jason- not Jason. Uh, you need to calm down, everything will be fine alright, We’ll get you and Jason introduced no problem.” Danny swivels to track the voice and it’s the one who was sitting next to him, he’s walking towards him with his hands up and out in front of him. 
“I have to get home.” Danny breathes. 
“We can get you there, promise. Now, I’m Dick, can you tell me your name?”
“Your name is Dick? Who named you Dick?” Danny is so confused he’s stopped panicking. “How old are you for you to go by the name Dick?”
“Okay, rude.” Dick sounds like a petulant child so Danny’s estimations for his age are continuously dropping. “I’m 24.”
Danny snorts. “Okay.” The blond girl starts laughing over at the table. “I’m uh, I’m Danny.”
“Nice to meet you. Sort of. I’m Tim.” The guy from across from him had made it over to stand next to Dick. “There’s a lot of us here today so the one laughing like a hyena is Steph. That one there is Duke.” African-American, still with black hair but he has brown eyes and waves once introduced. “Damian is the short one next to him, and Cass was sitting across from Dick earlier. Our dad, Jason’s dad-” 
“Not my dad!” Steph interrupted. Tim waves her off.
“Everyone but Steph's dad, is over there, Bruce. Alfred, our butler is the one next to him.” Alfred gives a slight nod to his head. Bruce is just staring at him.
“So, names out of the way. You said you wanted to go home, where do you live?”
“Amity Park.”
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velvetwilde · 2 months
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please don't pin my wrists above my head and prevent me from moving while you kiss my neck and whisper all the fucked up things you want to do to me while I'm rubbing myself with your thigh
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Danny, at 17, did not have the best love life. This is partially because two of his must haves in a partner are " Will protect me with their life" and "Will commit unspeakable acts of violence for me" or at least beat someone up for his honor.
Naturally, this doesn't always result in the most stable of partners.
His first girlfriend, Valerie, became an anti-hero and broke up with him for his safety.
He finally got with Sam in sophomore year only for the feds to come into class one day to arrest her. To his surprise, her crimes had nothing to do with ghosts but rather an incident where she went too far and committed a few acts of economic terrorism. Danny and Tucker never really learned the specifics of the crimes, and her parents hushed up as many news outlets as they could, so there wasn't much info to go around. All they knew was that she saved thousands of lives by doing it.
In the end, she was sentenced to eight years, and she broke up with him so that he wouldn't wait around for her to get out.
His third partner was a guy named David who was really sweet. Unfortunately, Danny got kidnapped one day by David's arch nemesis, who was some villain with a corny edge lord name. Yeah. David had become a a super hero after they started dating.
And if you guessed that he freaked out and dumped Danny for his own protection, you'd deserve a cookie.
Danny was noticing a pattern here. One that continued with everyone he dated. They always became some kind of hero before dumping him for his own protection, and it was infuriating. Sure, danny could defend himself, but he was never deep enough into the relationship to reveal his phantom half, and frankly, his hero career was something he left behind when he left Amity and destroyed the portals.
He met Tim at a skatepark after Tim fell off his board cause of some jerk speeding out in front of him on his own board, forcing Tim to stop or else hit the guy. The guy was unrepentant and Tim calmed him down (this did not stop him from melting the guys wheels with an ectoblast when no one was looking).
Tim then asked him to coffee. Danny, noticing how cute Tim was, agreed.
Danny was up front with his parents being mad scientists in Illinois. He always was with all the people he dated. It was better not to hide these kinds of things or worse, wait until you're already attached and afraid of losing them. So he always told potential partners as early as possible. Tim seemed a bit put off by this but was calmer about it than most, and they continued chatting.
Tim didn't seem like the type to turn to heroism or anti heroism so he felt safe on their later dates. It was only after he had known Tim for a while that he put the pieces together.
Tim was always covered in bruises that he hid with his clothes and make up, he had complained about batman over the phone when he thought danny couldn't hear, he was rich, he knew how to fight as revealed by his stances and footwork dispite trying to pretend he didn't, and lastly he held a lot of political power and influence being Bruce Wayne's son. Power he had no reservations using when it suited him or he was just feeling petty (that pettiness was part of why danny was falling for him harder than he thought he could)
No wonder Tim was so okay with his parents being rouges.
Tim was a villain!
At least Tim wouldn't leave him like all his exes. Danny doesn't think he could handle it if he did. Another good thing about this is now he can talk more freely about the more villainous and morally gray ideas and inventions when he was alone with Tim.
Tim didn't see anything wrong with Danny's idea to use something similar to cloning pods to make synthetic meats like rump roasts and steaks as a way to end world hunger and was eager to add to the conversation.
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evilyurifan · 4 months
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trying to go to bed but im mad at larian again because not only are all of wyll’s choices regarding mizora made by the player speaking for him, literally stripping him of any strong character moments, but ALSO the scene where he reconciles with his father is exactly the same! the player literally gets in front of him and has the conversation with his dad for him, including the fucking mind-melding to show him wyll’s trauma. like unlike gale’s conversation with mystra or astarion’s entire fucking character arc or lae’zel’s conversations with voss, wyll’s pivotal character moments literally remove his character from the action taking place. and then fans say “oh well he’s boring” yeah cause they’ve fucking sabotaged his story and hastily sawed off any opportunities for his character writing to shine. its fucking EGREGIOUS for the only origin character to get this treatment to be the only Black character.
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tlou-reid · 5 months
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!smut, mdni!
thinking about spencer reid who has had a crush on the pretty BAU agent at the desk across from him ever since she started. she has been so swamped with work and paperwork and life recently and spencer notices the small changes in her behaviors because he notices every little thing about her. he sees the tighter grip she holds on her pens, making the ink bleed through the paper just slightly. he notices the way she starts to slam her coffee cup on the desk as opposed to gently sitting it down. he notices the heavy uptick of the amount of cups she’s having.
and it’s worse when they’re given a case. naturally, since they get along so well and since they’re probably the two smartest people in the world, hotch pairs spencer and his crush up throughout their time in phoenix, arizona. spencer sees the way she’s always cracking her knuckles and rubbing at the small of her back. he hear the tone in which she talks to the officers.
so, when they’ve finally caught their unsub just 6 days later, spencer makes sure to pick up her case files before she can even make it from her hotel room. he tucks them neatly under him as he sits down on the jet, carefully hiding them from her. he holds them hostage, knowing if she doesn’t see them, she won’t worry about them. out of sight, out of mind, as they say. she falls asleep quickly in the seat across from spencer. he can’t help but ogle at her beautiful sleeping form, knowing she really needs the rest.
and, once they returned to the musty bullpen that belongs to the BAU, spencer stays with her. he watches as she starts the paperwork he’d sneakily put on her desk, not letting her catch on to the fact that he’d taken it. he tries his best to focus on his own work, but the way she keeps groaning as she rolls her head back has him completely distracted. he’s barely three pages in when hotch emerges from his office, bidding both of them a goodbye and complimenting their work on the case
that just leaves spencer and the pretty agent across from him in the space.
time moves slower now, spencer thinks, which makes it even more agonizing to listen to her try to work out her over-exhausted muscles by herself. he can’t help himself as he breaks the comfortable silence that had been established.
“hey, y/n,” he inquires, knowing she probably doesn’t want to be disturbed right now. his suspicions prove to be true when she doesn’t look up, letting out a less than enthusiastic “hm?”.
“do you know the benefits of getting a massage?” this piques her interest, wondering where spencer was going to take this. sure, the recent stress in her life had her muscles aching at every hour of the day, but she didn’t think anyone had picked up on it. “i know the basics, spence.” she giggles, finally looking over at him.
he can’t dwell on the fact that this is the first time she’s smiled in about two weeks because his brain starts moving too fast for his mouth to keep up, “yeah, most people know they helps with muscle aches but they actually have a lot of benefits. massages help improve circulation and joint mobility. there’s also research that connects them to cosmetic effects, like improved and more even skin tones.”
he doesn’t expect her to still be paying attention to him, but he’s pleasantly surprised at the small smile spreading across her face. “hm, that sounds amazing. if only i wasn’t trapped here doing paperwork at almost three in the morning.” she answers sarcastically, turning back to her work. “i could give you a massage.” spencer stumbles out.
her cheeks start to heat up as she makes eye contact with him, wondering where he would take this. “i mean,” he backtracks, “i’ve read books on how to do shoulder and back massages. my eidetic memory means i could probably do an almost perfect one, if you’re interested. i’ve noticed the way you’ve been struggling with muscle aches.”
her face feels like it’s on fire with the way he’s making her blush. “um, sure, spencer, if you don’t mind.” she stutters and stumbles as she tries to accept his offer. he excitedly pushes himself of his hair, pulling up a closer one behind her.
his large hands start to knead at the knots at the base of her neck. he can feel the tension she’s built up over the past couple of weeks and tries to recall the techniques he’d read about so long ago.
this quickly becomes a challenging feat, as he moves his hands along the expanse of her back. she lets out light moans when he massages a particularly tight part of her muscle. the moans and grunts she’s making are going right to spencer’s cock. he’s so glad he’s behind her, because the tent in his pants continues to grow as he reaches the base of her back, where most of her pain had been.
her light moans have now increased in volume, and spencer is sure he should stop. he was not expecting to have this reaction from her, or react this way to her. his mind is cloudy and beginning to fill with filthy images that match the sounds she’s making now.
and god, he should stop. he knows he should pull his hands away from her, especially as he feels his stomach tighten and his dick throb in his pants. but he can’t. he needs to reach his release so bad, so he presses his fingers harder into her back, listening to the joyful sounds she’s letting out.
he doesn’t pull his hands away until he finally cums in his pants, too embarrassed to keep going. “thank you, spence. i feel a lot better. a lot less tense now.” she thanks him as he turns away from her, pushing in the chair he’d pulled over. he makes a few exclamations, saying it was no problem at all, before dashing off to the bathroom to try and get himself cleaned up.
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mynamesaplant · 4 months
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Forgiveness is Electric
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Just a little short story about @critterbitter's hc of Emmet, Ingo, and Elesa. This is between the Volume Control and Volume Control (Reprise). Just a tiny change, Emmet caught Tynamo bc I sort of forgot when he did... My bad. Please go take a look at Critter's work, it is beautiful in every sense of the word.
I lied about posting to AO3 last time with Yearning for Wood Floors, but I will update that soon along with this one.
Enjoy!~
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“I do not think she will like those.”
“Who doesn’t love sweets?”
Ingo argued, plucking a box of Snom-Caps and turning it over and over in his hands. He contemplated the choices of candy in the aisle, the teenage clerk puffing their long, purple-streaked hair from their eyes behind the counter as the two children agonized over their decision. The clerk, Dakota, saw Ingo and Emmet in here all the time, the former had something of a sweet tooth and the latter… Well, whatever the opposite of a sweet tooth was, that was Emmet. The kid just loved sour things.
It wasn’t unusual to see them, but it didn’t usually take this long for them to make their selection. They had been there for nearly fifteen minutes, painstakingly reading each and every label and discussing them in hushed undertones. That was unusual by itself. Ingo was not known for his volume control.
Although unusual, they weren’t worried about them doing anything shady like stealing or being careless and knock things off the shelf. Might as well let them go about their business. To pass the time, they watched the fretful newly acquired Tynamo circle around them faster and faster until Emmet snatched the Pokémon deftly from the air and soothingly stroked its back.
“I am Emmet. We do not know what she likes.”
“We must do something! I just feel so dreadful.”
Emmet could see Ingo working himself up over this, just as he had a few hours ago, and Emmet placed a reassuring hand on his brother’s arm. His smile and eyes softened as his twin turned to him, Ingo’s eyes glittering with emotion and whatever proclamation dying on the back of his tongue.
He hadn’t meant it. He really hadn’t. He always got too loud when he was excited.
It had just backfired on him horribly.
Ingo cringed even now as he remembered the tears in her eyes, her hands slapped over her ears, and eyes huge with confusion and pain. She had run off before he could even apologize, and that knowledge was eating him alive all day.
Candy wouldn’t fix this. In his heart of hearts, he knew that, and maybe he had come here to grab himself some of his favorite snacks to ease the pain of losing a potential friend.
It was hard for them to understand others. Emmet and Ingo were so in-sync with each other that everyone seemed to be moving so much slower by comparison. It was like playing charades with someone who was underwater, the twins made perfect sense to one another, but it was unclear to everyone else.
This was not new to them, but it didn’t make it any less frustrating.
With their moms being busy with work and their uncle who didn’t have much interest with them most times, Emmet and Ingo came to rely on each other almost exclusively. Drayden would give them a little bit of pocket change, but never much. They had to be ultraconservative with what he gave them and had taken it upon themselves to run around Anville Town to take little odd jobs.
Leaves to rake? Oran berries to pick? Snow to shovel?
Emmet and Ingo did it all and saved what they could. They barely scraped together the money to purchase the Pokéballs needed to catch Tynamo and for additional balls to try and catch Ingo a starter.
Even though they knew everyone, they weren’t really close to anyone in town.
That could have been different if Ingo hadn’t ruined everything!
“Perhaps sweets are not the solution…”
Ingo finally admitted, setting the box down and rising to his feet. Readjusting his cap on his head and dusting off his knees to unconsciously tidy his appearance, Ingo’s frown deepened in thought. Even if he and Emmet apologized to her, Miss Elesa would not understand them. Drat! If only he had remembered her hearing aids, he had completely forgotten them tucked behind her black hair.
Emmet watched his face scrunch up, clearly having a long inner dialogue with himself where he alternatively berated himself and told himself that there was no crying over spilled milk. Gray eyes scanning the shelf, he took a bag of sour gummy-Bewear for himself, and chocolate covered pretzels for his brother, before hauling them to the counter where Dakota waited.
Tynamo drifted just below his elbow, still quite nervous around new people and often retreating to its ball when too anxious. Emmet’s soft encouragement was the only thing keeping the EleFish out while Dakota rang up both bags.
“Tynamo? Good for you, kiddo. I hear they’re not easy to catch.”
They rested their elbows on the counter, chin resting atop with a kind smile to the quieter twin. Dakota could see him beaming with pride, but he merely nodded, shuffling on the spot while he fished in the pocket of his overalls for some money. His Tynamo, like its trainer, seemed a little bashful at their words, and retreated into its ball.
“200… I think you brother is comatose over there.”
Dakota said not unkindly. Emmet jerked his head to where his brother stood motionless in front of the candy.
“Ingo!”
It was Ingo’s turn to jerk out of his, as Dakota had put it, “comatose state”. He trotted over to his side, staring at the bags of candies with confusion before it all seemed to click into place.
“You did not have to spend your pocket money on me.”
Emmet’s smile softened at the bashful note in his sibling’s voice. He wanted to. Ingo was feeling down, his twin often overthinking problems and burning himself out in the process. Emmet liked to take a step back to listen and reflect on people and conversations. A little break would do Ingo some good, so he insisted on the treats.
“I am Emmet. I wanted to. Yup!”
While Dakota bagged their treats in a small brown paper bag, they couldn’t help but lean over the counter to examine them. Although many people didn’t understand the secret code that the twins exchanged between glances, mouth twitches, and hand movements, Dakota could tell something was awry. Withholding the bag, they leaned over the counter with a faintly curious expression and a light tone.
“You guys alright?”
Unsurprisingly, the two exchanged looks, and a wordless conversation was held between them while Dakota waited. It was Ingo who swiveled his head back to face them, his face knit into a calculating grimace that seemed a little less friendly than usual, but only marginally.
“Yes,” he said slowly, eyes not breaking with the clerk, but they could see him shifting uncomfortably. “Emmet and I are attempting to right a wrong. However, we are encountering several roadblocks.”
There is a pause. Dakota still held the bag just out of reach as they gnawed on their lower lip. This wasn’t really their business, and they weren’t the type to stick their nose in where it didn’t belong… They thought of Drayden, who spent a lot of time in Opelucid and not watching his nephews – he barely spent any time with them.
They’re just kids.
“Do you need some help? It’s my job to help customers in the store y’know.”
Another pause. Another exchange of glances.
“I-” Ingo tries to being, already hard pressed to say anything and even less so when his sibling elbowed him in the ribs and shot him a look. He wouldn’t be allowed to take all the blame. “We upset one of our classmates with our carelessness. We think she was attempting to befriend us, but- uh… there were a few errors on our part.”
“And you’re trying to get candy for her to forgive you?”
“We thought about it, but it grew too complicated. We do not know what candy she likes, but more importantly, we do not think it’s a suitable apology.”
The clerk nodded, tapping the counter in thought as they tried to piece together some genuine advice for the boys.
“I think it’s a nice peace offering, but I think an apology would be better.”
“We broke her hearing aids… Yep…”
Emmet croaked suddenly, shrinking back in shame at the same time that Ingo grabbed the brim of his hat to tug it lower over his eyes.
“Ah,” Dakota hummed, tapping the counter even faster. They meant the new family that moved in from Sinnoh. They remembered their dads talking about the new signs that had to go all over town for the girl’s safety. Dakota couldn’t remember her name. “How did you break them?” They asked, already knowing the answer.
“Volume control.”
Ingo cringed, remembering his uncle’s warning about his naturally loud voice. Inside voice, Drayden had been emphasizing, and Ingo was trying to take those words to heart, but it was difficult. Since Ingo’s face didn’t emote well, he relied on his voice and his movement to articulate his emotions to others. They nod sympathetically.
“You didn’t see them?”
“No…”
The boy was squirming now, his shame and embarrassment with the situation reaching an all-time high. He felt Emmet moving to his side, reassuringly pressing against his arm, and resting his head on his twin’s shoulder. A flood of comfort helped Ingo release a breath he hadn’t realized he had been holding.
Behind the counter, the clerk was rummaging through something – although tall for their age, Emmet and Ingo couldn’t see what they were doing. They heaved a box onto the counter, tipping it so the contents spilled out for them to see, and the boys were confused.
“Headphones?”
Emmet leaned forward on his tiptoes to look at the colorful array of boxes that ranged from normal headphones to ones that had Pikachu and Eevee ears topping them.
“Yeah, uh, maybe if she wears these, you’ll remember right away that she has headphones in.”
It was a half-baked idea. In truth, Dakota felt a bit sheepish about it now that the idea was out of their head, but when they looked up, the boys were beaming – well, Emmet beamed. Ingo reminded of them of their friend’s Purrloin in a way they couldn’t quite put their finger on.
“Bravo! What a marvelous suggestion!”
Ingo practically cheered, stepping beside Emmet to look through the headphones. It was probably going to cost them a bit from the tags on the boxes, but it would be worth it. The headphones would immediately remind Ingo that she had hearing aids in so he would be more inclined to get Miss Elesa’s attention in a different fashion, but it also might do the same for others who were unaware of her deafness.
“Sure – er, thank you…” Dakota was looking at the prices now and mentally smacked their forehead. They probably couldn’t afford the headphones. “I’ll-” They hesitate. It almost pained them to say what they were going to next. “I’ll pay for them so you can take them to her now.” The twins’ eyes went wide, both about to protest when Dakota interrupted, “In exchange, you can do a few chores for me at my place. I need to do some yardwork, but it always gives me hay fever. Sound like a deal?”
The answer was easy for them. Dakota told them to pick ones that they thought Miss Elesa would like.
“I think these ones are quite dashing.”
Ingo said, picking up the box with the Pikachu ears. Emmet pursed his lips and shook his head.
“Nope. Too big. Not a gamer girl.”
They continued to rummage through the boxes. They agreed that she must like Electric types. She had a Blitzle as her partner after all.
“I cannot recall, she is from Hoenn, correct?”
Emmet shrugged, unsure himself because they had both been looking through a magazine with an expose on the newest train lines running out of Nimbasa when she had been introduced. That just meant to them that, when the time came, going on their Pokémon journey by rail would be all the easier.
“Not sure.” He looked at the box Ingo had in his hand and his smile broadened, nodding in agreement to his brother’s unasked query. The perfect balance of subtle but stylish. “I am Emmet. Those are perfect.”
Plusle and Minun headphones.
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wistfullywaiting2 · 1 month
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The biggest misconception in the bsd fandom ever to me is people constantly portraying Atsushi as someone who trauma dumps excessively when he canonically barely talks about it at all.
The entire point is that Atsushi does not talk about his trauma he’s just constantly thinking about/reliving it. He can’t escape the memories of his past so he tries not to acknowledge them.
He only mentions it when asked, either directly or when someone asks him to explain himself.
Atsushi doesn’t even give a cohesive explanation for what he saw while under Dogra Magra, he just apologizes to Haruno and Naomi.
If Lucy hadn’t had her whole “you’ve never suffered the way I have” spiel then I doubt even the audience would’ve gotten to find out about his scars
If Akutagawa never asked him how it felt for the orphanage headmaster to die Atsushi would have never told him that he’s been hallucinating.
In the omake where Kyoka asks him why his hair is like that it’s clear he wouldn’t have told her that unless she had asked.
In 55 minutes Atsushi very briefly mentions sleeping on a dirty floor somewhere to Kunikida because he was trying to explain and justify his behavior.
And the thing is that there are scenes that implies that the other characters see Atsushi behaving strangely and are visibly confused because they do not understand what’s wrong with him.
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Remember, we as an audience get to see things about characters that the main cast doesn’t. Just because we see into Atsushi’s mind doesn’t mean the other characters know what’s going on in there.
Also little footnote here that I think this is a reference to the moon over the mountain but I digress
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bunnyreaper · 7 months
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kinktober 8 - breeding
simon riley x reader
(18+/mdni, breeding kink ofc hehe, just a little thing today <3)
for a man that doesn't want kids, simon riley sure has a breeding kink. simon swears on his life he doesn't want kids. not now, maybe not ever, a stance you've never had a major issue with. but considering his firm line in the sand, he always tries to knock you up anyway.
the first time you fucked had been a whirlwind of post mission adrenaline and raging lust, and you hadn't even stopped to consider the consequences--neither had simon. he was pushing in his girthy cock and fucking you deep before you could even think to ask for a condom, and he fucked you so good you didn't stop to care when his cock kissed your cervix and painted your insides.
after that, he didn't even bother offering to wear a condom, after the contraception and disease talk. why lose out on cumming inside? he just had to stuff you full.
sometimes he'd fuck you until you're a babbling mess, cumming hard and deep inside and then continuing to fuck his cum back in you, not letting a single drop escape. on one lucky occasion, he even came again, cock covered in his own essence as he filled you to the brim with his sticky cum.
his desires had escaped him mid session once, lost in your silky depths as he started to babble about how he needed to breed tha' pretty lil cunt and how he wasn't letting you go until he made you leak him down your fuckin' thighs.
and then it became an obsession, despite the low risk and the lack of desire, he seemed almost determined to fuck a baby into you--like he was testing your birth control, filling you up whenever he could. keeping track of your cycle so he could remind you, balls deep in mating press and eyes glued to yours, that it was your most fertile part of your cycle and that your body was just begging for his cum.
sometimes he'd even lose it just a little, chastising you for anything anything that might affect your fertility, anything that could ruin your chances of bearing his child. for a man that doesn't want kids, simon riley took breeding you very seriously.
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paperultra · 7 months
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the liminal space.
Pairing: OPLA!Roronoa Zoro x Reader Word Count: 1,575 words Warnings: Swearing, mentions of alcohol use [A/N: written with the cooper!reader from mise en rose in mind. i don't know where in the timeline this occurs, though. lol.]
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cingulomania (noun): a strong desire to hold a person in your arms
Living in close quarters can really change how you see a person.
Roronoa Zoro, for instance, had always struck you as rather aloof, having traveled alone for some time before you joined him, and unused to physical affection. He never gave any indication that he was one to enjoy it, and he never sought it out from anyone. That certainly wasn’t odd. You respected his tendency towards personal space, subsequently believing that it extended to his sleeping habits as well.
So when you wake up, hardly able to breathe underneath the hulking mass of a snoring swordsman, you are more surprised than anything.
“Zoro,” you wheeze, patting his back with the hand that isn’t crushed between his chest and yours. Nothing happens, so you swat harder. “Zoro. You’re crushing me.”
His arms squeeze around you as he stirs, inhaling sharply next to your ear. You stop moving as he lifts his head and opens his eyes just wide enough to register you beneath him.
He pauses.
Good morning, sunshine is what you want to say in a cheeky tone. You want to prove that you’re unaffected by the warmth of his body pressing yours into the mattress, the sensation of his breath across your cheekbone and the way his gaze transitions from something bleary into something sharp.
The greeting refuses to leave your mouth. All you can do is blink.
The next thing you know, Zoro’s rolling off of you and out of bed with nary an apology, mumbling something about going to the bathroom.
You hum distantly in response and stare up at the ceiling as he shuffles to the door. Once he closes it behind him, you reach up and fold your hands over your eyes, cheeks hot.
Great.
It all started because you and Zoro could only afford a single bed at the inn.
(You use the term “afford” loosely here. The truth of the matter is that you grossly underestimated how much a room would cost, and the owner of the one place willing to lend you a room for half the usual rate demanded physical labor to make up for the rest. Given that Zoro would be spending most of his time hunting down a bounty, the majority of the unpaid labor fell on your shoulders.)
(But you digress.)
The room is small and bare, which is fine, because you and Zoro don’t have much between the two of you anyway. The only problem is that there is only one bed. Zoro had expressed no qualms about sharing so long as you didn’t disturb his sleep, and you had readily agreed, not wanting either of you to sleep on the floor.
After the first morning, you’re not sure if that was a lapse of judgement on your part or not.
Zoro doesn’t mention it at all before he leaves for the day, and you don’t, either. However, when he comes back in the middle of the night and you’re already in bed, squinting and shielding yourself from the bright hallway light as he takes his slippers off and walks in, he sits on the carpet just a few feet away from your side.
“What are you doing?” you ask as he proceeds to lay down.
“Sleeping.”
He closes his eyes and folds his arms behind his head. You frown.
“Why aren’t you sleeping up here?” No answer. You lift your head from your pillow, indignant. “Hey, don’t ignore me! I know you’re still awake.”
“I’ve had a long day,” he grumbles, “so I’d like some quiet so I can sleep. Thanks.”
You huff.
The thought that Zoro might actually be just as embarrassed flits briefly through your mind, but you extinguish it just as quickly. He’s never seemed like the kind of guy to be self-conscious about those kinds of things. A more likely reason is that he’s decided that he wants his own separate space after all and can’t be bothered to kick you off the bed.
So, you kick yourself off instead.
“What are you doing?” The phrase now comes from Zoro as you throw the covers off and grab your pillow, kneeling on the ground beside him. His eyes open and his brow furrows.
“Take the bed. I feel guilty.”
“I don’t want the bed.”
“Everybody wants the bed.” You lie down on the carpet and cross your arms over your chest, stubborn. “I’ve already slept in it. Now it’s your turn.”
“You’re an idiot,” Zoro says.
Neither of you budge.
The next morning, you decide that the first morning was in fact not a fluke, as you awake with your face smushed against his chest and the smell of steel in your nose once again. He’s not on top of you, at least, but the way he clutches you while you’re lying on your side, one ankle hooked over yours, is somehow ten times more mortifying. You wake him up in the midst of untangling yourself and pretend like nothing happened.
Who’s the idiot now? (The answer is both of you. Both of you are idiots.)
The third night, you and Zoro flop onto the hard mattress with twin groans, heads spinning and feeling overall miserable.
“That was the shittiest booze I’ve ever had,” Zoro slurs next to you, face down in his pillow.
“But you got a lead, right?” you mumble.
“Yeah …”
You had been there in the bar when he’d gotten that lead, but you can’t remember what it was for the life of you. Another inn? Another bar? Ugh, you’re never drinking there again.
“I’m cold.”
There are blankets on the bed. Unfortunately, getting underneath them would require a lot of moving, and you are physically incapable of exerting yourself that much right now.
You shiver and turn onto your side to curl up. You’ll fall asleep at some point, anyway.
Zoro murmurs your name.
“Hm,” you groan, eyes screwed shut.
He doesn’t say anything in reply. But you hear the mattress squeak, the bedsheets rustle as he shifts closer, and your breath catches when the small distance between you closes. He does not wrap his arms around you, no, but your knees touch, and the heat from his skin melds into yours. You hear his breathing slow to a crawl.
Through your drunken haze breaks through a sudden need to draw him into you, to tuck your face into his neck and keep it there forever. You want – you want. But you’re exhausted, and your head aches, so you find yourself slipping into a deep slumber instead.
He’s already gone when you wake up.
A suspiciously lumpy gunnysack in the corner of the room catches your eye once you enter, hand over your mouth to stifle a yawn.
“What’s in the bag?”
“Eight million beri,” Zoro says from his seat on the bed. Cleaning supplies for his swords are strewn around him, and he sheathes the Wado Ichimonji as you close the door. “I ran into another bounty on the way back.”
“Eight mill –” You clear your throat. “Wow. That was pretty lucky.” Eight million beri. Sometimes you wonder if you’ll ever get used to how much bounty hunters can make. (God, that would’ve been more than enough to pay for the room.) “We’re heading out to a marine base tomorrow morning, then?”
“That’s the plan.”
He puts away his supplies, setting them and his swords against the wall near his pillow before standing up to pull down the sheets on his side. You turn off the bedside lamp and do the same, crawling in with a sigh.
The two of you simply lie side-by-side until you decide to break the silence with your big mouth again.
“Am I a burden to you?” you ask.
“No.” The plainness of Zoro’s tone is a small comfort, you suppose. “Why are you asking?”
“Well …” You already regret bringing this topic up as you trail off, biting your bottom lip. “I feel like I haven’t really done much. I mean, I help with navigating and searching crowds and stuff, and I’ve been getting better at fighting, but I can’t help you, you know?” You fiddle with your fingers. “You don’t actually need me.”
There’s a gap between you and Zoro that you’ll likely never be able to close. You had always known that, and so had Zoro; in fact, he had told you at the start that going with him was a bad idea, given your inexperience in bounty hunting and traveling in general. And although you’d like to think that your ability to read a map and fix things convinced him of your usefulness, there are times when you think Zoro regrets bringing you along. Like now.
Zoro grunts, turning to lay on his back. His shoulder nearly lands on your hands, and you draw them to yourself as you wait for his answer.
It is brief and straightforward.
“I’m not forcing you to go with me,” he says. “And if you were a burden, I would’ve told you a long time ago.”
“Oh.”
It is brief and straightforward, and yet, there’s a strange lump in your throat. You swallow it and nod, even though he cannot see you do so.
Nothing more is said. However, as the night goes on, you reach out, and you find him, and Zoro finds you, and the space between your arms fills up with warmth and an unspoken promise. And you sleep very well.
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rafeandonlyrafe · 4 months
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fake belly
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words: 1.6k
warnings: 18+ only, smut, unprotected sex and implied protected sex, breeding, tummy bulging, lots of pregnancy talk, kind of pregnancy kink but more breeding focused
“you know how tiffy is going to be on vacation for two months?” you hum, sliding onto rafes lap, who instantly wraps his arms around your waist to pull you in, securing your back to his chest.
“yeah, what about it?” rafe responds, only half paying attention as he presses kisses to your shoulder. he’s heard many times how annoyed you are about your friend going away for two whole months, but that you’re also happy she’s getting to explore the world.
“i’m gonna prank her when she gets back.” you state.
“how are you gonna do that? tell her we broke up?” rafe questions, petting over your thighs, unable to hold himself back now that he has you against him.
“no.” you sigh. “it has to be believable.” “whats the plan then, darling?” 
“gonna buy one of those fake bellies on amazon and when she gets back, surprise! i’m pregnant.” rafes eyebrows rise. “can’t you just use a pillow or something?” “no, it’s gotta be realistic.” you don’t admit that you’ve already tried, taking a throw pillow and putting it under your shirt to see if you can mold it to look like a real belly.
“alright, whatever you want baby.” rafe pushes your hair behind your ear, revealing your neck as he buries his face in your skin, kissing and nipping with his teeth.
“you know what i want right now?” you turn so you are facing rafe, knees digging into the couch on either side of his lap. 
“hmm?” rafe hums, eyes glancing to your lips, needing to take them in a kiss. 
“i want you to ride you. right here on the couch.” you press your hips forward, grinding your core down, reaching into rafes pocket where you know he always keeps a condom.
“how funny.” rafe says, his voice already turning deeper, darker. “i want the same thing.”
--
“oh my god, it’s here!” you squeal, having gotten the notification on your phone that your amazon package was delivered.
“your fake belly?” rafe perks up from where he’s been lounging on the couch, scrolling aimlessly on his phone.
“yeah!” you rush to the front door, squealing again when you see the package, grabbing it and bringing it into the living room, surprised that the package is decently heavy.
“are you gonna try it on?” rafe questions, head tilting to the side as he watches you tear into the package before pulling the belly out, complete with a strap to go around your back to secure it to your body.
“oh my god, it looks so real.” you hold up the thick rubber, surprised by how close the color match is to your skin. 
“baby, you gonna put it on?” rafe asks again, knowing that you aren’t truly paying attention in your excitement.
“yeah, i mean i guess? see if it fits.” you shrug. “i’m gonna go try it on upstairs and you can judge how real it looks when i come down.”
--
“ta-da!” you put your hands up in the air as you walk back into the room, now sporting a stretchy dress to mimic a maternity dress, the material extending around your fake belly.
“it looks so real, doesn’t it?” you turn to the side, smoothing your hand over your belly. you can see rafes gaze darken as it lands on you, eyes slowly moving over your body, focusing on the bumb.
“rafe-” before you can finish asking him if he’s okay, rafe has jumped off the couch, making you let out a little squeal that is quickly swallowed by his lips as he takes you in a passionate kiss. he moves you backwards until your back is pressed against the wall, the large bump separating your bodies from molding together but not stopping rafes hands from gripping at your tits, squeezing them through your dress.
“oh my god, what has gotten into you?” you moan as rafe moves his mouth to your neck, sucking hickeys into your skin, knowing they will blossom purple and show everyone who you belong to, but rafe has other plans to show that you’re his as well.
rafe sweeps your feet out from underneath you, making sure to carefully lower you to the ground, thankful for the soft rug in the living room as you splay out on the floor, rafe still kissing along your neck and jaw.
“gonna put a real baby in you.” rafe says, pushing his hips in between your thighs, grinding his crotch against your underwear.
“yeah?” you moan, undulating your hips to rub yourself right back against rafe. 
rafe reaches under your dress and behind your back, undoing the velcro of the fake belly and pulling it away. “you looked hot baby, but i’m gonna swell your tummy up for real.”
you whine as rafes hand then moves to take off your underwear, not pulling away long enough to actually get them down your legs, ripping the fabric as he flings it away.
rafe undoes his pants with one hand while rubbing at your clit with the other, needing to get inside of you and get your cunt pumped full as soon as possible. rafe frees himself from his pants, squeezing at the base of his cock which is already ridiculously hard.
“i’m sorry baby, i just need to fill you up.” rafe suddenly punches his hips forward, burying himself in you fully, knowing he should spend more time opening you up or have an in depth conversation about wanting kids, but he physically can’t hold himself back. 
you grip at the short fibers of the rug as he immediately begins to snap his cock into you, pushing and stretching at your walls all while his thumb continues to play with your clit.
“rafe!” you whine out, squirming as you reach for him, tugging him forward so he has to hold himself up with one elbow against the floor. 
“i’ve got you baby.” rafe says, connecting your lips in a kiss like you clearly wanted. you wrap your legs around his waist, changing the angles of the thrust as he presses against the gummy walls of your inside, making sure every time that his cock buries as deep inside of you as he can.
you grip rafes hair in one hand as you keep his lips against yours, needing to feel the sweetness of is kiss, even if it is mostly just moaning into each others mouth, in sharp contrast to his cock digging into you.
“fuck, rafe, it feels so good.” you whine, being able to feel every detail of his cock now that he’s inside you without a condom for the first time.
“i know, i know.” rafe coos. “my pretty girl, being so good spreading her legs for me. gonna be a real good mama yeah?”
“yeah, fill me up. fill me up please.” you moan, back arching off the ground, pushing your chest into rafes, your dress still bunched up around your stomach. you move a hand to your tummy, imagining what it would be like swelled up.
“can you feel me in there baby?” rafe asks, briefly moving his fingers off your clit to move your hand lower, pressing it into your lower tummy.
“i-i can.” you stutter out, feeling the pushing of his dick against your palm, so big that a bulge forms every time he pushes in deep.
“gonna cum right in your womb, baby. gonna be pregnant for real by the time tiffy gets back.” rafe can barely control himself, sweat forming on his back, sure to wet the shirt that he didn’t bother to take off.
“im close, keep going.” you whine, pressing more open mouth kisses to rafes mouth as his thumb retakes your clit, stroking and flicking over it. 
“never gonna stop, babygirl.” rafe vows. “not until i’ve got my baby in you.” rafe cements his words by moving faster, forcing his cock in at a rapid speed that you’re sure will break you until your high hits like a train, entire body shaking as your cunt pulses around his cock, forcing rafes orgasm quickly as well as he pushes as deep in as ever, and you swear you can feel the spurts of his cum through your skin as your pussy milks him, drawing every last drop that he has out and into your womb.
you’re both breathing heavily, a mess on the floor of the living room, and while rafe is tired, he manages to make sure to carefully pull out as to not disturb too much cum. he holds your legs up, throwing them over his shoulder while he sits back on the floor, chest heaving.
rafe watches your cunt, knowing you are squeezing to keep all the cum inside of you, helping with your legs pulled up on his shoulder to keep the angle, but as soon as rafe sees a drop of white, his finger is moving to your pussy, pumping it back inside of you.
“gentle, oh my god.” you whine, squirming from his harsh fingers on your oversensitive cunt.
“sorry baby.” rafe says, but you can hear the smile in his voice and know that he’s not all that sorry. “i think i broke your fake belly too.”
you look to the side, having completely forgotten that rafe tore off your new delivery and tossed it away, a crack formed in the rubber material of the belly.
“that’s okay, you’re giving me a real one.” you pat your tummy, already feeling a glow to your skin and face.
“damn right.” rafe nods, cock twitching at the thought of getting inside you again. “you gotta think of a different prank for tiffy now.”
“um…” you tap your finger against your chin. “maybe i can tell her we are having twins.” rafe pauses, his mind reeling at the thought of not just one but two and you know you’ve made a mistake when he pushes your legs open, a devious look in his eye.
taglist: @drewstarkeyslut @rafecamerongirl @f4ll-for-you @dilvcv @drudyslut @jjmaybankswifes-blog @rafescokenostril @jjsmarijuana @jjmaybankisbae @seeingstarks @angelofcigs @michelleisheres-blog @outerbankspov @drewstarkeyswifehoe @cutielando @kamninaries @buckyswhxre @rafeinterlude @bellbottombaby @deeaardiary @rubixgsworld @emma77645
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Sex-repulsed asexuals and romance-repulsed aromantics deserve £100000000000000000000000000000000000000000000 for everything
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eldritch-thrumming · 3 months
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what, like it’s hard?, pt. one
“it’s just that… if i want to win a seat in congress by the time i’m thirty, i need to find someone who’s serious about my career. not some little elementary school teacher that cares more about his students than what he’s wearing on my campaign stops,” tommy tells steve, as they’re sitting in quite possibly the fanciest restaurant steve’s ever step foot in. the menu hadn’t even included any prices.
“but… i’m seriously in love with you.” steve feels like his whole world is falling apart. just last week he’d been so sure that tommy was getting ready to propose. he’d introduced steve to his family—they’d spent a week out on martha’s vineyard for a family reunion at which steve had met tommy’s great-grandmother, hands laden with rings as she’d winked when tommy had asked for a private conversation. steve had been so sure that conversation was about the family ring.
“and i love you too, baby, but look. you don’t want to have to leave your students for half the year to come on the campaign trail with me, do you?” tommy asks, not even really looking at steve. he continues to just eat his stupid dinner as if he’s not ripping steve’s heart out at this very moment.
and steve can’t help but think how silly this all is, because it’s not like tommy’s actually running for anything right now. steve doesn’t even teach yet, beyond the two days a week he does his student teaching. they’re only 22, they haven’t even graduated northwestern with their bachelors degrees! but tommy’s saying these things as if they’re all real, right now.
“and i’m off to harvard next fall. it’s not like we’ll stay together while i’m there and you’re still here, right?”
and the thing is, steve had actually thought he’d be going with tommy to boston. they’re both set to graduate in the spring, steve with his degree in education and tommy with a dual major in pre-law and political science. they hadn’t really ever talked about it, but they’d been together since the beginning of their sophomore year. so yes, steve had thought they’d still be together when tommy started at harvard law.
but now steve’s starting to feel extra stupid.
“so… what? you’re breaking up with me?” steve starts to feel his chest tightening, like he might cry. he can’t believe that two hours ago he thought he’d been getting ready for a proposal.
“don’t think of it as a breakup, stevie… think of it as a conscious uncoupling. we’re just moving in two different directions. i’ll be at harvard law next semester and you’ll be…” tommy gives him a look of slight disdain—steve has never seen tommy look at him like that. waitstaff? sure. his driver? absolutely. but it’s never been directed at steve before. “well, you’ll be teaching snot-nosed six year olds. we’re on different paths.”
and that’s what truly makes steve’s blood boil. his passion for teaching and education is one of his greatest qualities and he’d thought that had been part of the reason tommy loved him. he didn’t realize that tommy loved him in spite of that. he’s not gonna let some asshole like tommy montgomery hagan iii tell him he’s no good.
so he doesn’t respond. he just takes the linen napkin off his lap and throws it on his half-eaten steak dinner and marches out of the restaurant.
tommy doesn’t even follow him out.
~*~
“oh steve… i’m sorry,” robin says to him about an hour later while steve lays his head in her lap on their dingy couch.
“it’s not even that he broke up with me,” he explains through tears. “it’s that he basically said i was worthless. like i couldn’t do anything better than teaching. as if teaching isn’t even an admirable profession! where would he be without his teachers, huh? isn’t this all about going to stupid harvard? what does he think the professors there actually do? knit?”
“is this a bad time to tell you that i always kind of hated him?” robin says, maybe trying to get him to laugh. but it kind of surprises steve. he sits up, knocking her hands from where they’ve been carding through his hair in the process.
“you did?! no, you didn’t.” he searches robin’s face for a moment and then sighs. “why didn’t you say anything? you could’ve saved me a whole lot of wasted time.”
“babe, you were so gooey-eyed for that guy, nothing i said was gonna change that. a crowbar couldn’t have pried you away from him. but you have to know he was an asshole.” when steve stares at her blankly, she huffs. “steve, he used to offer to cover the whole tab when we went out. how often did he ever actually pay, even for his own drinks? he made poor jonathan cry the last time we were all here for game night, just because jonathan asked for clarification on the rules for pictionary.” steve is still staring at her. “he tried to stiff argyle by offering him a flight on his dad’s private jet instead of paying for his weed and we all know he doesn’t even have access to the jet. dude was cheap as fuck and not even nice about it.”
steve thinks about it. it was kind of true. tommy was a horrible tipper—steve usually laid down a couple of twenties when they went to dinner together when tommy wasn’t looking. he can remember more than a few times where the guy had sent their food back even though it had looked perfectly wonderful to steve. so… okay, maybe robin had a point.
steve tells her as much, then adds, “but he was always nice to me.”
robin snorts. “are you kidding? he’s stood you up so many times i can’t even remember all of them. remember that time he said his first impression of you was that you weren’t as hot as your pictures? who says that to the person they’re dating?”
steve groans and lays his head back down in her lap.
“okay, so maybe you have a point about that too. but i was gonna marry him, rob. what do i do now?” he knows he’s whining, but he feels just a little bit entitled to it right now.
“i don’t know, babe. get over it, i guess. welcome to the world of us singles. it sucks out here.” steve can hear the fondness in robin’s voice as she says it, but still. it does sting just a little.
they sit there in silence for a while, with robin running her hands through his hair again. it’s so soothing that he almost jumps out of his skin when she speaks again.
“hey, you know what would be super funny?” she’s laughing a little as she says it.
“what?” steve had been dozing just a little and his voice sounds muffled by fatigue.
“if you got into harvard and just showed up on the first day. imagine the look on his face.”
steve laughs at how ridiculous that sounds. like he could get into harvard. plus, he’s got teaching to think about. he doesn’t have a place yet, but he knows he’ll get one soon.
but as he sits there with robin’s hands stroking through his hair, he begins to daydream about how shocked tommy would be. about how he’d have no choice but to eat his words when steve proves himself by getting into one of the most competitive programs in the country. about how good it would feel to prove the bastard wrong.
“robin?” she hums in response. “you’re a goddamn genius.”
~*~
“dingus, are you sure you want to do this?”
the spring semester starts in three days. it’s their last semester at northwestern and there’s nothing but great big darkness on the horizon of steve’s future. he hasn’t slept in two days, busy studying, thick workbooks piled around around him at the kitchen table. he knows what he must look like, over-caffeinated with bruises under his eyes.
“i’m sure.” steve has his lsat exam in one week. “i have to take the exam this week. apps are due by march first.”
“no, steve, i don’t mean taking the test. i mean applying at all. it’s clearly more stress than it’s worth. do you even want to go to law school?” robin sounds concerned and normally steve would think it’s very sweet, but currently it does nothing but irritate him.
“i could,” he responds grumpily.
robin sighs. “i just mean… is this worth it?”
steve looks up then and sees her biting her lip, clearly worried about him. he puts his pencil down and stops the timer on his phone, giving her his full attention.
“this isn’t just about tommy.” robin gives him a skeptical look and it’s his turn to sigh. “it’s really not. maybe it started out that way, maybe it was just a stupid joke to get revenge on the asshole, but now it’s more than that. it’s proving that i can do something unexpected of me.” he swallows. “no one even believed i would get into college. i was just some stupid jock in high school who’d never amount to anything. and then i got in to northwestern and i was so shocked and happy. but i found out that my dad had actually pulled a bunch of strings. so i hadn’t gotten in on my own merits. he didn’t think i could. but now…” he runs a hand through his hair nervously. he’s never said any of this out loud before. “he’s not around now. there’s no one to help me. no safety net. if i can do this, it’ll prove something to me. something that maybe i don’t really believe yet.”
he expects robin to say something about external validation being a corrupting force and identity built on academic achievement being solely a losing game, but she doesn’t. instead, she sits down across the table from him and picks up a workbook.
“okay,” she says. “what do we have to do?”
~*~
“mail here?” steve calls out when he hears the front door close behind robin.
there’s a moment that feels like a pause. “yeah, it’s here.”
steve practically sprints from his bedroom to his living room. robin holds a single white envelope in her hand. steve all but snatches it from her.
his fingers move to rip it open, but then he hesitates. he thrusts it back towards robin. “i can’t,” he tells her. “you do it.”
her eyebrows shoot up. “you’re sure?” steve nods. he watches her rip the envelope open, bouncing on his feet. she scans the page and then she’s smiling.
steve grabs the paper from her. “oh my god?!” he yells. “oh my god!”
robin practically jumps into his arms. “179, baby! harvard law here we come.”
~*~
even after such a successful run at the lsats, there’s still the little matter of actually getting in to the school. steve’s only experience with the academic application process was with undergrad and it appears that applying for anything beyond a bachelors degree is an entirely different ball game. he’s so out of his depth that he’s forced to turn to grad school message boards for advice and tips of how to get in. it seems like everyone else is applying to a hundred different schools while steve’s only applying to one. he learns this is a terrible strategy for planning one’s future, but that doesn’t really matter to steve. for him, it’s harvard or nothing.
there are so many different parts of the application that it makes steve’s head spin. there’s the statement of purpose and the personal statement—the difference between those two requires robin’s careful and slow explanation about three separate times. then there’s the writing sample and the application and the recommendations and the transcripts and and and
but with robin’s help, steve completes each component and successfully sends his materials by the day of the deadline.
steve’s never been a patient person. no one on earth would accuse him of that, so even he can tell that he’s getting on robin’s nerves every day as he practically pounces on her when she returns from collecting the mail.
and then one day, finally, at the end of april, she comes through the front door and clutched in her hand is a big, thick white envelope emblazoned with the words ‘harvard law’ in bold, beautiful crimson red.
~*~
“last chance to back out,” robin says smiling as she swings herself up into the passengers seat of their rented u-haul.
“nah.” steve returns her smile as he slides his sunglasses from his hair onto his face. “let’s get out of this dump.”
and with that, they leave their first apartment behind, headed to the coast.
[wanted to finish this completely before posting but my benadryls kicking in and i have no self control. eventual steddie, promise! no tag list for this one, sorry!! it’s giving me anxiety on the other one lol absolutely not edited, if u see a typo no u don’t. i wrote this on my phone in a feverish frenzy. also, i originally invented someone for the role of warner but then i was like ‘IDIOT!!!!! why would u not choose tommy?????’ so if there’s a name in here that shouldn’t be, no there isn’t.]
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