#Adult Toilet Chair

[diloveplastichouseware]

Improve comfort and accessibility with adult toilet seats in plastic household products

In the world of plastic household products, innovation has consistently played a crucial role in improving daily life. One such innovation that has significantly impacted the lives of many is the Adult Toilet Chair. This seemingly simple product has provided comfort, accessibility, and dignity to countless individuals, making it a standout example of how plastic household products can make a meaningful difference.

The Evolution of Household Products

Household products made from plastic have become an integral part of our daily routines. These items are often designed to be functional, durable, and affordable. Plastic's versatility allows for creative and ergonomic designs that can address various needs. Over the years, plastic household products have evolved to cater to a wide range of users, from children to the elderly. However, one particular product, the Adult Toilet Chair, stands out for its specialized focus on improving the lives of those who need it most.

Addressing a Critical Need

The Adult Toilet Chair is a prime example of how plastic household products can be engineered to address a critical need. For individuals with mobility issues or disabilities, using a traditional toilet can be a challenging and undignified experience. Plastic household products like the Adult Toilet Chair have stepped in to bridge this gap.

These chairs are designed with the utmost care to provide a comfortable and secure experience. Made from high-quality, durable plastic, they are lightweight yet robust enough to support various body types. Their ergonomic designs ensure that users can sit down and stand up with ease, reducing the risk of falls and accidents. Additionally, many models are equipped with armrests and backrests for added comfort and support.

Enhancing Accessibility

One of the primary benefits of the Adult Toilet Chair is its ability to enhance accessibility. These chairs are often adjustable in height, allowing them to be customized to the user's needs. This feature is especially valuable for individuals with mobility limitations or those recovering from surgery or injury. By providing a stable and elevated platform, the chair enables users to access the toilet more comfortably, independently, and safely.

Maintaining Dignity

Maintaining dignity is a fundamental aspect of a person's well-being, especially when faced with physical challenges. Plastic household products like the Adult Toilet Chair play a significant role in preserving dignity.

The design of these chairs ensures that users can perform their toileting tasks discreetly and comfortably. The use of plastic in their construction also offers easy cleaning and maintenance, contributing to a hygienic and dignified experience. Furthermore, many models incorporate features such as detachable pails, lids, and even wheels for convenient waste disposal.

The Environmental Aspect

In today's world, environmental concerns are at the forefront of product design and manufacturing. Plastic household products, including the Adult Toilet Chair, have adapted to meet these concerns. Many manufacturers are now producing these chairs using recycled and eco-friendly materials, addressing both sustainability and functionality.

Additionally, some models are designed to be foldable or stackable, minimizing storage space and reducing transportation costs and carbon footprints. This eco-conscious approach ensures that the benefits of these chairs extend beyond individual users to the broader environment.

A Beacon of Innovation

In the vast realm of plastic household products, the Adult Toilet Chair shines as an exemplary beacon of innovation. It addresses a critical need, enhances accessibility, preserves dignity, and embraces sustainability. This product exemplifies how plastic household items can transcend their conventional roles and become essential tools for improving the quality of life for many individuals. As technology and design continue to advance, we can expect even more remarkable contributions from plastic household products in the years to come.

[mamayan]

Shigaraki Tomura

cw: NSFW • Holiday Filth • Crush Shigaraki • Modern AU • dry humping • language • implied alcohol usage • pathetic virgin Tomura

Thinking about being Shigaraki’s little sister’s best friend.

Being invited over to her house and being so excited unbeknownst to your friend to see her nasty older brother. Tomura holed up in his room, feet up and knees bent as he sits in his fancy leather gamer chair spewing filth into the mic of his headset. Being given the most toe curling glare from him as he looks up from under his messy bangs and sees you peaking at him through a crack in the door. Sneering and telling you to “fuck off” and you do, scampering away to shamelessly rifle through the medicine cabinet in the bathroom for any of his hygiene products. There’s not many. It doesn’t matter though, since he left his dirty clothes from last night in a bundle on the bathroom floor beside the shower and toilet.

Your friend babbling on endlessly about family drama but you can’t pay attention as dinner begins and Tomura is forcibly dragged down the stairs, eye bags heavy from lack of sleep, mumbling out vague answers on how college is going. He notices his little sister’s annoying friend though, you, who always seems to be judging him from the way you constantly have your eyes on him. It pisses him off, and he’s not afraid of outing you in front of everyone.

“Why don’t you find something better to stare at bitch,” and cackling as the home filled with relatives and friends erupts at his rude comment and language. His family is comforting you, telling you he’s just having a rough day, he doesn’t mean it, etc. Your friend is intent on vengeance but you assure her it means nothing to you. She’s used to the behavior and agrees he’s not worth the trouble, being pulled away by relatives intent on being nosy into her personal life.

Tomura did mean it though, and you know it too, and it still doesn’t stop you from sneaking away upstairs while the house slowly boozes up and begins to become rowdy. Tomura slunk away to return to his game he’d been playing with friends, some stolen snacks and a cheap bottle of vodka in his hoodie pocket he takes a straight swig from every now and then as he gets heated into his gaming match.

He’s nearly surprised to see you open his bedroom door and not his mom or sister intent on giving him a headache.

“Back to keep staring whore?” He’s snickering as he flips up the mic, his game paused for a moment while waiting on another friend to join the match.

“Yeah.” He doesn’t expect you to lock the door, a brow cocked up as he reassess you.

You’re much cuter now. The baby fat gone and a young woman blooming, barely an adult now but it didn’t stop his eyes from lowering to your chest that was rising and falling quite quickly. He’s always been so used to seeing you attached to his bratty shit sister that he’s never appreciated you before.

“Wanna do more than stare though.” He’s even more shocked to see you tossing the ugly Christmas cardigan you matched with his sister, the plain dress under easily lifted over your head and dropped too. Right in front of him.

“Ha, oh yeah?” He’s baffled but not upset, dropping his feet and manspreading wide as his cock hardens in his sweats. He’s shameless in palming himself through them, setting his controller aside and licking his dry lips as you come closer, cute little matching bra and pantie set doing little to hide your hard nipples poking through the fabric and pussy lips. “Fuck, look at you, all grown up huh?” His eyes on you as you slide the dainty fabric covering your cunt down and stepping out, removing your bra next slowly, letting him drink you in. You’re nearly vibrating with excitement, eyes wide and bright as you straddle him.

“Little pervert, you wanna ride my cock?” You smile, because he’s acting like he isn’t some loser virgin with trembling hands digging into the fat of your soft ass. You can feel he’s just as strung up now, his palms lightly sweating as they slide up and cup your breasts, eagerly pitching and pulling at your nipples while you roll your hips over his chubby cock. “D-damn, where’d’ya learn to act like this?” He’s nearly about to cum from touching your tits alone, but the feel of you grinding down on him is making him lose it.

“I watched porn.” He groans, finally losing patience and pulling his dick free from his sweats, ready to naively try and enter you without any prep. He’s huffing and breathing heavy as he rubs the tip through your folds and trying and failing to hump into you. He’s just bumping uselessly against your tightly closed entrance while he moans and buries his face in your chest, happy when you begin to run your fingers through his hair.

He’s coming a minute later. No penetration necessary for him to spurt his hot spunky load against your pussy as he nearly passes out from how hard he cums.

“Holy fuck—!” You nearly have to muffle his cry of pleasure as he grips you for dear life.

The banging on his door a minute later making you both fumble for clothing as your friend’s voice comes out in a battle cry for your location.

“You fucking asshole! You hurt her feelings and now I can’t find her!”

You both only look at one another in amusement and embarrassment.

“Try looking up your ass since her face is always buried there!” He shouts back, and you have to bit back the comment you want to yell at him. Little does anyone else know the true reason you love going to the Shigaraki house when Tomura is home.

[sissydiaperloverzoe]

What Diaper Discipline elements do you want?

This list is to help you think about the elements of Diaper Discipline you want and can also be used by a partner to list elements they’re comfortable with.

Reblog with what you’d pick!

Let us know in comments if we’ve missed anything ❤️

Diaper Wearing:

Disposable Medical Diapers

Disposable ABDL Diapers

Pull Ups

Cloth Diapers

Diaper Usage:

Wetting

Messing

Frequency:

24/7

Forced Usage:

Bulk forming / Fibre

Suppositories

Oral Laxatives

Enemas

Castor Oil

Catheters

Locking Clothing / Pant

Hollow Butt Plugs

Anal Stretching

Toilet untraining

Checks & Changes:

Partner checks if you need changed exclusively (you can’t ask for changes)

Partner changes you into dry diapers

Partner changes wet diapers

Partner changes messy diaper

Partner does all changes (Not allowed to change yourself)

Partner changes in public (i.e. back of car / disabled washroom)

Adult Baby Clothing:

T-shirt and exposed Diaper

Plain Onesies

AB Onesies

AB Rompers

AB Footed Sleepers

AB Pyjamas

AB Play Clothes (Shortalls, Dresses, etc)

Spreader pants

Mittens

Booties

Bonnets

Adult Baby Accessories:

Pacifier

Bottle

Sippy Cup

Bib

Baby Blanket

Teddy

Chew Toys

Diaper changing bag

Adult Baby Furniture:

Changing Mat

Diapers on display

Changing Table

Crib

High Chair

Playpen

Bouncer

Public Wearing / Usage:

Wear diapers in public

Wet diapers in public

Mess diapers in public

Wear diapers around friends & family

Wet diapers around friends & family

Mess diapers around friends & family

Wear diapers at work

Wet diapers at work

Mess diapers at work

MDLB / DDLG Behaviours:

Being called Baby

Sweet talk (being talked to as if a small child/baby)

Must hold hand in public at all times

Calling partner Mummy/Daddy

Diaper pats

Helped to get dressed/undressed

Bottle feeding

Pretend breast feeding

Spoonfed adult food

Spoonfed baby food

Baby talk

Crawling

Bondage:

Locking Diaper Covers / Plastic Pants

Locking Mittens

Pacifier Gags

Bed Restraints

Straight Jackets

Full Fixation Restraints

Chastity:

Male chastity cage

Self-imposed chastity

Punishments for masturbating in diapers

Punishments:

Time-Outs

Denied/delayed diaper changes

Forced pacifier use

Chastity

Laxatives

Bottom stuffing with a butt plug

Restrained

Loss of adult privileges

Masturbation & Sex:

Vibrator though diaper

Butt plugs

Diaper humping

Prostrate massage (combined with Chastity device)

Pegging

Cuckolding

Sissy:

Pink AB Diapers

Girly AB Onesies

Female AB clothes (dresses, etc)

Full sissy attire

Fake breasts / bras

Makeup & painted nails

Exposure:

Private photo album

Anonymous social media account (faces hidden & identify keep secret)

Attending ABDL events

Visiting ABDL shopS

Public diaper exposure

[regressionschool]

Maturity Test Part 3

Chapter 1 Chapter 2

Anna, Lilly, and Olaf arrived at the reclassification center, the atmosphere tense with anticipation. The building, sleek and modern, loomed ahead, its polished glass reflecting the bright afternoon sun. The trio stepped inside, the cool air conditioning a stark contrast to the warmth outside. The reception area was quiet, a few others waiting with the same mix of nervousness and hope that hung around them.

They were guided to a private room where the reclassification tests would take place. The room was simple, with a few chairs, a large table, and several machines designed to assess the various levels of maturity, competence, and independence.

Olaf fidgeted nervously, clutching Lilly’s hand for comfort. Anna watched him with concern, noticing how little and anxious he seemed. This was a far cry from the Olaf she remembered from their school days. Beside him, Lilly exuded calm, her presence a constant reassurance for Olaf.

Rebecca entered the room next, her demeanor noticeably different from the last time Anna had seen her. Today, she wasn’t in her usual thick diaper but in pull-ups. She hadn’t worn one in so long, and the idea of showing off her “potty training” skills made her feel like she was on top of the world. Even though she hadn’t sat on a toilet in five years, she still clung to the hope that this was her chance to prove she was ready for a little more maturity. Her eyes lit up when she saw Anna, and she ran over, her pull-up crinkling as she moved.

“Anna!” Rebecca called, throwing her arms around her friend. “I’m so glad you’re here!”

Anna hugged her tightly, a mix of relief and sadness washing over her. Rebecca looked so proud in her pull-up, but Anna knew this reclassification would determine her fate—whether she’d remain in pull-ups or be placed back into diapers.

“You look great, Becky,” Anna said, smiling warmly. “How are you feeling?”

Rebecca grinned, her excitement palpable. “I’m gonna be a big girl again, Anna. I just know it!”

Olaf, on the other hand, was much quieter. His pull-up was already starting to feel damp against his skin. He shifted uncomfortably in his seat, his thumb creeping towards his mouth before he caught himself.

Lilly, standing nearby, exchanged a knowing glance with Anna. The stakes were high for all of them, and while Rebecca’s enthusiasm was endearing, Anna couldn’t shake the worry gnawing at her. The reclassification tests were unpredictable, and the outcome was never guaranteed.

Soon, the testers arrived, ushering each of them into separate assessment rooms. Anna felt a pang of anxiety as she watched Rebecca and Olaf disappear behind the doors. She and Lilly were led to their own rooms, where they were quickly and efficiently tested on their maturity, decision-making skills, and ability to handle adult responsibilities. The process was routine for them, and both women were confident in the outcome.

After what felt like hours, Anna and Rebecca were finally reunited in the main room, where the results were to be announced. The atmosphere was thick with tension as the testers entered, carrying the documents that would determine their futures.

The head tester, a stern-looking woman with a clipboard, began reading out the results.

“Anna,” she said, looking up briefly before returning her gaze to the clipboard, “remains classified as an Adult.”

Anna let out a breath she didn’t realize she’d been holding, relief flooding through her.

“Rebecca,” the tester announced next, her tone neutral, “has been reclassified as a Preschooler.”

Rebecca’s face lit up with a mixture of pride and relief. “I did it!” she whispered excitedly to Anna, practically bouncing in place.

But as they celebrated, the evaluator’s expression turned more serious. “There’s just one issue,” she said, her tone somber. “Rebecca, since you’ve been reclassified as a preschooler, you’ll need to have a caregiver assigned to you. Unfortunately, the regression school nursery is only for toddlers, so if you can’t find a caregiver, you’ll have to stay classified as a toddler.”

Rebecca’s joy faltered, her face falling as the weight of the situation settled in. “But… I don’t have a caregiver,” she whispered, her voice trembling. “I don’t want to be a toddler again…”

Anna’s heart ached as she saw the distress in Rebecca’s eyes. She couldn’t bear the thought of her friend being forced back into toddlerhood after all the progress she had made. And in that moment, the decision became clear.

“I’ll be your caregiver, Becky,” Anna said softly, reaching out to take her hand. “You don’t have to go back to being a toddler. I’ll take care of you.”

Rebecca’s eyes filled with tears, but this time they were tears of relief. “Really, Anna?” she asked, her voice wavering. “You’ll be my mommy?”

Anna nodded, squeezing Rebecca’s hand gently. “Yes, Becky. I’ll be your mommy, and I’ll take care of you, just like you deserve.”

Rebecca threw her arms around Anna, hugging her tightly as she buried her face in Anna’s shoulder. “Thank you, Anna,” she whispered, her voice thick with emotion. “Thank you so much.”

As they embraced, Lilly returned with Olaf. Lilly couldn’t contain her excitement as she led Olaf back towards Anna and Rebecca. Her eyes sparkled with a mischievous joy, and she was practically glowing with pride as she looked down at Olaf, who was now waddling awkwardly beside her, his thick diaper forcing his legs apart. The word "Toddler" was emblazoned across the front of his diaper, a clear indication of his new classification.

“Oh, Anna, you won’t believe it!” Lilly gushed, her voice brimming with excitement. “Olaf had a little messy accident during his test. It was so unexpected, they had no choice but to regress him further!” She let out a lighthearted laugh, her eyes twinkling with amusement. “Isn’t that just adorable? He’s officially a toddler now, and I have to say, he looks so cute in his thick diapers, don’t you think?”

Anna looked at Olaf, her heart sinking as she saw the expression on his face. His eyes were wide and glistening with unshed tears, his bottom lip quivering as he processed Lilly’s words. The weight of the situation seemed to crush down on him all at once, and his thumb, which had been hovering near his mouth, found its way between his lips.

But even the comfort of his thumb wasn’t enough to hold back the flood of emotions that had been building inside him. His eyes welled up, and within moments, the first tear slipped down his cheek, followed by another, and then another. Before anyone could react, Olaf began to sob, his small shoulders shaking with the force of his cries.

“I-I don’t want to be a toddler!” Olaf wailed, his voice muffled around his thumb as he buried his face into Lilly’s side. The tears came faster now, streaming down his cheeks in a torrent of grief and frustration. “I-I’m not a baby… I’m not…”

Anna, feeling her own heart ache at the sight of Olaf’s anguish, stepped closer, her hand reaching out to rest on his shoulder. “Olaf,” she said softly, trying to catch his tear-filled gaze. “It’s okay to be sad. It’s a big change, and it’s okay to feel upset about it.”

But then, something clicked in her mind. She remembered Lilly had done something before the reclassification that she hadn’t paid much attention to at the time.

Earlier that day, when they were getting ready to leave for the reclassification, Anna had seen Lilly give Olaf a suppository. Anna hadn’t thought much of it, assuming it was just something to calm his nerves. But now, as she watched Lilly’s calm demeanor in the face of Olaf’s accident, it all made sense.

Anna’s eyes widened as the realization hit her. Of course. It was why Lilly hadn’t been worried about Olaf making it through the reclassification without an accident. She had planned this all along, ensuring that Olaf would be humiliated and further regressed. The suppository would have ensured that Olaf’s body would betray him, no matter how hard he tried to control it.

She couldn’t stay silent any longer. What Lilly had done wasn’t just manipulative; it was cruel. "Lilly, what the hell were you thinking?" she snapped, her eyes blazing as she glared at her. "That suppository was not to calm Olaf down, was it?"

Lilly paused, looking up at Anna with an expression of feigned innocence. "Anna, what are you talking about? I’m just taking care of Olaf, like any good mommy would."

"Don’t play dumb with me!" Anna shot back, her voice rising. "You knew exactly what you were doing. You set him up to fail! You wanted him to mess himself right at the reclassification, didn’t you? So that he’d be more dependent on you, sure to be reclassified as a toddler."

Olaf, who had been lying quietly, now looked up at Anna with wide, confused eyes. He hadn’t connected the dots, but now, hearing Anna’s words, a look of realization slowly dawned on his face. He turned to Lilly, searching her face for any hint of denial, but found none.

Lilly’s expression hardened, the pretense of innocence slipping away. "And what if I did?" she said coolly, standing up and facing Anna with a defiant tilt of her chin. "Olaf needs someone to take care of him. He’s happier this way, aren’t you, Olaf?"

Olaf didn’t answer, his face a mix of shame and uncertainty. He wanted to protest, to say that he didn’t need this, that he could manage on his own, but the truth was, a part of him was scared. Scared that without Lilly’s constant care, he would be lost. The dependency that had grown between them was undeniable, even if it wasn’t something he had chosen.

Anna’s anger only grew at Lilly’s cold response. "You don’t get to make that decision for him, Lilly. You’ve been manipulating him, controlling him, and now you’re pushing him further and further into regression just so you can have control. It’s not about what’s best for Olaf; it’s about what you want!"

Lilly’s eyes flashed with anger. "You have no idea what it’s like, Anna. He needs me. He can’t take care of himself—"

"But he could try!" Anna interrupted, her voice filled with frustration. "He was doing fine before, and now he’s so dependent on you that he doesn’t even realize when he’s wetting himself. That’s not care, Lilly. That’s control."

Lilly opened her mouth to retort, but Anna didn’t give her the chance. She turned to Olaf, her expression softening as she addressed him. "Olaf, listen to me. You don’t have to do this. You can still make your own choices. You can still try to be independent, to be more than what she’s trying to make you."

Olaf looked between the two women, his heart pounding in his chest. He felt torn, confused, and overwhelmed. The reality of what had happened was sinking in, and he didn’t know how to process it. Part of him wanted to cling to the comfort that Lilly provided, but another part of him was angry—angry at himself for being so easily manipulated, and angry at Lilly for doing this to him.

Lilly’s voice cut through his thoughts, sharp and cold. "Olaf, don’t listen to her. She doesn’t understand. She doesn’t know what’s best for you like I do."

Anna shook her head, tears of frustration and anger brimming in her eyes. "Olaf, please. You deserve better than this. You deserve the chance to be more than just… this."

But before Olaf could respond, Lilly turned and marched toward the center’s entrance, pulling Olaf along with her. Anna followed, her heart pounding with a mix of determination and fear.

When they reached the reclassification center, Anna didn’t hesitate. She stormed up to the front desk, demanding to speak to someone in charge. The receptionist, startled by her intensity, quickly made a call, and within minutes, Anna was ushered into an office where a stern-looking official sat, waiting.

Anna didn’t waste any time. She laid out everything she had witnessed, her voice trembling with anger as she described how Lilly had manipulated Olaf, how she had purposely sabotaged him to ensure he would regress further.

The official listened carefully, her expression grave as Anna recounted the details. When Anna finished, there was a long pause, the air thick with tension.

Finally, the official spoke, her voice measured and calm. "This is a serious accusation, Anna. If what you’re saying is true, it goes against everything we stand for in this program. We aim to support individuals based on their needs, not to force them into a classification that isn’t right for them."

Anna nodded, her heart pounding in her chest. "Olaf deserves the chance to be more than what Lilly’s trying to make him. He deserves the chance to choose his own path, not to be manipulated into one."

Olaf was led into a small examination room, looking more anxious than ever. Lilly tried to maintain her calm demeanor, but there was a flicker of uncertainty in her eyes.

The officials began their examination of Olaf, asking him a series of questions while conducting some basic tests. It was clear that Olaf was uncomfortable, shifting nervously as he answered, his gaze flickering between the officials and Lilly, who stood nearby, her expression unreadable.

One of the officials, a stern-looking woman with sharp eyes, took a sample from Olaf to test for any foreign substances. Lilly’s face paled slightly as she watched the process, but she kept her mouth shut, not daring to say anything.

Anna, who had been waiting outside the room, was finally called in after what felt like an eternity. She walked in, her heart pounding in her chest, wondering what they had discovered.

The lead official, the stern woman, looked up from the results, her expression grave. "Anna, we’ve completed our tests, and it appears that there were indeed traces of a substance in Olaf’s system—something that would have induced a bowel movement."

Anna felt a mixture of vindication and anger surge through her. She glanced at Olaf, who looked bewildered and on the verge of tears, and then at Lilly, whose composure had finally cracked. There was fear in her eyes now, a fear that she had been caught.

"Lilly," the official continued, turning her gaze to Olaf’s so-called caregiver, "do you have anything to say for yourself?"

Lilly opened her mouth, but no words came out. She seemed to struggle for an excuse, for some way to explain away her actions, but she knew there was nothing she could say that would justify what she had done. Her silence was damning.

Anna took a deep breath, trying to keep her emotions in check. "This isn’t just about what happened today," she said, addressing the officials. "Lilly has been manipulating Olaf for a long time, keeping him dependent on her, making sure he doesn’t have the chance to grow up and live his life."

The officials exchanged glances, clearly concerned by what they were hearing. The lead official nodded. "We take these kinds of accusations very seriously. We’ll need to conduct a full investigation into Lilly’s actions and her treatment of Olaf."

Olaf, who had been quiet up until now, finally spoke up, his voice shaky. "I... I didn’t know. I thought Mommy was just helping me..." He looked at Lilly with wide, tear-filled eyes, confusion and betrayal written all over his face.

Lilly’s eyes softened, and she stepped forward, trying to reach out to him, but the officials quickly intervened, keeping her at a distance.

"Olaf," Anna said gently, stepping closer to him, "you didn’t do anything wrong. We’re going to make sure you’re taken care of, okay? No one’s going to hurt you."

Olaf nodded slowly, but it was clear that he was struggling to process everything that was happening. His world was being turned upside down, and he didn’t know what to think or who to trust.

The lead official turned back to Anna. "We’ll be taking Lilly into custody for further questioning. Olaf will be placed in temporary care while we complete our investigation. Thank you for bringing this to our attention, Anna."

Olaf's eyes widened in panic as the officials began discussing his placement in temporary care. The very idea seemed to terrify him, and he instinctively reached out for Anna, his hands clutching at her arm with a desperate grip.

"Anna, please," he whispered, his voice trembling. "I don’t want to go with strangers. I want to stay with you... and Becky. Please don’t let them take me away."

Anna's heart broke at the fear in his voice. She knew how much Olaf had come to depend on Lilly, as manipulative as she had been, and the thought of being taken away from the only familiar person left in his life was clearly overwhelming for him.

She turned to the lead official, her voice steady but firm. "Olaf doesn’t want to be placed in temporary care. If it’s alright, I would like to take care of him instead. He can stay with me and Becky. I know how to take care of him, and he’ll have someone familiar around."

The official looked at Anna thoughtfully, then back at Olaf, who was still clinging to her. "You’re sure you can handle this, Anna? Taking care of someone in Olaf’s condition is a big responsibility."

Anna nodded, determination shining in her eyes. "I’m sure. I’ve known Olaf for a long time, and I want to make sure he’s in a safe and loving environment. Becky’s at the regression school, and she’d be thrilled to have Olaf stay with us. She’s always wanted a sibling."

The official considered her words carefully before finally nodding. "Alright, Anna. We’ll grant you temporary guardianship of Olaf, provided you meet the necessary requirements. We’ll conduct regular check-ins to ensure his well-being."

A wave of relief washed over Olaf’s face as the official agreed. He squeezed Anna’s hand, his fear slowly subsiding. "Thank you, Anna," he whispered, his voice thick with emotion.

Anna smiled down at him, brushing a stray tear from his cheek. "Of course, Olaf. You’re going to be okay. We’ll get through this together."

The official began preparing the necessary paperwork, explaining the responsibilities and conditions of temporary guardianship. As she handed the documents to Anna, she also retrieved Olaf’s reclassification report.

"Now, Olaf," the official began gently, "I understand you were hoping to be reclassified as a preschooler again. But after reviewing your test results and observing your behavior, we need to have an honest conversation."

Olaf looked up, a flicker of hope still lingering in his eyes. "Yes, I... I tried really hard to stay a preschooler. I didn’t even... I mean, I tried not to have any accidents."

The official’s expression softened as she continued, "You did your best, Olaf, and that’s something to be proud of. But the truth is, even if you had managed to keep your pull-up clean and dry, your overall regression has reached a point where we would have had to reclassify you to the toddler level."

Olaf’s face fell, his hopes crumbling at the official’s words. He stared at the floor, his fingers nervously playing with the hem of his shirt. “So… I’m going to be in diapers again? Full-time?”

The official nodded sympathetically. “Yes, Olaf. You’ll be placed in the toddler category, which means you’ll be wearing diapers full-time and receiving the care and supervision appropriate for that level. I know this might be disappointing, but it’s what’s best for you right now.”

The official finished with the paperwork, handing the finalized documents to Anna. "We’ll keep in touch to monitor Olaf’s progress and ensure he’s adjusting well," she said kindly. "If you have any concerns or need assistance, don’t hesitate to reach out."

Anna nodded, thanking the official for her help. She then guided Olaf out of the room, holding his hand as he waddled toward the car.

[wannabeschyulersister]

flash me (rooster x reader)

*based on the episode of new girl where Jess walks in on Nick*

“I have to move out.”

Natasha set her drink back on the table, “Did Bradshaw finally drive you crazy? I told you having him as a roommate would eventually make you want to pull your hair out. Is he leaving the toilet seat up all of the time?”

“No, that’s not it.”

“Is he having too many “special” guests over?”

You shook your head, “Nope.”

“Then what happened?”

You looked around to see if any of the squad members were close enough to hear your conversation.

“Uh, I walked in on him.” You whispered.

Natasha leaned close, “What did you say? I can barely hear you.”

“I walked in on him in the bathroom.” You quickly said.

Your best friend looked a little confused, “Was he on the toilet?”

“I walked in on him naked!”

Natasha froze and the started laughing as if you said the funniest joke she’d ever heard. It annoyed you but you knew if situations were reversed you’d be laughing your ass off too.

Just then, Jake sidled up to you as if appearing out of nowhere, “I heard the word “naked” and Phoenix laughed so hard she has tears coming out. I have to get in on this conversation.”

“(Y/n) walked in on Bradshaw naked.” Natasha blurted out as she wiped away her tears.

You tried to pinch her but she moved out of your grasp, “I wasn’t trying to tell the whole damn bar!”

“I won’t say anything, sweets.” Jake promised, “Now, what did you see? A little backside? Full frontal?”

You looked down at your hands, “Uh both?”

“You poor lady. Seeing Bradshaw naked can be absolutely traumatic for anybody.” Jake joked.

You rolled your eyes, “I’m not traumatized! I just can’t look him in the eyes anymore which makes our living situation awkward.”

“How did he react?”

“He tried to cover himself as much as he could but it was too late. This is why I always scold him to lock the damn bathroom door!”

“You know what you have to do right?” Jake asked.

“Move out, change my name and run to Europe.”

He chuckled at your plan, “No, sweets. You got to show him something of yours.”

“Hangman, you’re an idiot.” Natasha told him.

He ignored her, “Think about it. You’d be even and not at all embarrassed every time that you see him. A flash is all it takes.”

“Please don’t listen to him. You don’t have to flash Bradshaw. Just talk to him. Acknowledging how awkward it is and moving on like adults is the right thing to do.” Natasha gave sound advice that you should definitely listen to.

“Phoenix, that sounds like the logical thing to do but I might go with Jake’s plan.”

“Why do I even bother to give out advice?” Natasha mumbled to no one.

“I appreciate your advice but I feel like I’m always going to feel awkward if things are even.”

Before Natasha could respond with how ridiculous you were being, Bradley walked into the bar. He looked around and spotted you instantly. It wasn’t hard to detect the pink tint that dusted his cheeks.

Bradley went over to the bar and planted down on one of the stools. Any other time, he would’ve pulled up a chair with the three of you and joined in.

“See. I can’t live like this. Bradley won’t even sit with me now.”

“Wow, maybe you do need to flash him.” Natasha said.

“So, what are you going to do?” Jake asked. He was clearly enjoying this more than he should.

You wished that Bradley would’ve just locked the damn door that morning so you both would’ve avoided all of the mess.

“I guess I’m going to flash Bradley.”

[mull3ts]

[ 𝐀𝐃𝐔𝐋𝐓 𝐆𝐀𝐌𝐄𝐒; ONE WAY TICKET ]

⚠︎ 𝐖𝐀𝐑𝐍𝐈𝐍𝐆𝐒 | Smut (18+), Dilf! Aged Up! Friend’s Dad! Mark, Daddy Kink, Blowjobs, Dry Humping, Degradation/Praise Kink

Mark thought he was like you once, shy, timid, unsure. But one singular move proves him completely wrong. 

You were introduced to him as his daughter’s friend, the daughter of the couple next door, swinging by for a few weeks before heading back to campus. He gave you a handshake, a polite smile. He thought you were just a little shy when you could barely hold up a conversation with him, only speaking when he asked you something.

Initially, Mark didn’t think anything of it. 

He knew you were watching a movie with his daughter, so he went back up to his room, tending to whatever business he needed to. That’s when he thought something of it. He thought about how pretty you are, gorgeous even. Sure you were shy, but he’s sure that some people are like that at your age. He knows he was like that at your age. 

Mark’s not blind, he could see right through you from where your eyes subtly darted when he spoke to you. He likes you. Besides being a sight for sore eyes, you’re smart, clever, witty, he sees the way you talk to his daughter. He just wishes that maybe you were a little bolder. 

Mark Lee doesn’t make first moves. 

That’s when you lied between your teeth to your friend saying you needed to use the bathroom. You didn’t really. You didn’t even know why you even told her that. So, you walked upstairs, hunting for the bathroom when you decided to go…left, right, left…right—you decide to go right. As soon as you do, the bedroom door swings open making you stumble back into a wall. You blink a couple of times.

Oh look, it’s Mr. Lee. 

“Holy shit,” he apologizes, his eyes widening in horror. “A-Are you alright? Are you hurt?” 

You’re still rapidly blinking, also in horror. “N-No, sorry, Mr. Lee. I- I didn’t mean to, uhm, yeah.” 

He’s confused for a second. He glances at the bathroom door. “Were you gonna go in there?” 

“Uh-” 

“Because, honestly, the toilet’s just kinda like a little-” 

Screw it. The next thing you know you’re shoving his chest back into his room. He hums a little in surprise, muttering “What the—?” the moment the door clicks behind you. You’re a little surprised you did that.

He’s a little surprised he let that happen. 

You breathe in. “I want to suck your cock.” 

What the fuck. You’ve never done this before. Why did you just tell him that? You're only acquainted with Mr. Lee and, to be completely honest, you don’t even remember his first name—John? Marcus? William? You're sure it starts with an M. You’re also sure it’s probably Mark.

Mr. Lee does a double take. “Did you say…?” 

You nod. “Yes. I wanna get on my knees and gag on your cock.” 

He narrows his eyes down at you. 

“Please.” You add, hoping that maybe it’ll convince him. 

“Y/n, I don’t think that’s a good idea,” he trails off like he’s skeptical. “You’re young, I’m like twice your age..and I don’t think maybe you’d wanna mingle around some guy like me, honey. You should go for someone younger, maybe, closer to your age, y'know live your life.” He continues, “Besides, I’m an adult, you’re probably barely an adult, and I just don’t think you should be getting into adult games you should be getting into young adult things.” His hands are on your shoulders at this point. 

Is this man serious? He’s not your dad. “Y’know, Mr. Lee, thank you for the fatherly advice, but, I’d rather you give me life lessons while your cock is in my mouth.” 

One of his eyebrows is cocked up, probably in amusement. “Uh-huh…you sure you wanna…” 

“Suck your cock? Yes.” you answer immediately. “Please.” You add, again. 

“Well,” he shrugs, walking over and sitting in one of his cushioned chairs. “Just tell me if it gets too much for you, honey.” he sighs, pointing for you to sit in-between his thighs—you quickly oblige, getting on your knees in front of him. 

You look up at him as you unfasten his belt, pull down the zipper; your fingers reaching for the waistband of his briefs. His voice interrupts your movements, “You sure my kid’s not gonna wonder where you went?” he pries “Whatcha’ gonna do if she comes in to see her pretty little friend gagging on her dad’s cock, hm?” 

Fuck you for wearing shorts. You could feel your wetness begin to ooze out of you. 

The corner of Mark’s mouth curls up just a little when you don’t respond to him, opting to pull his briefs down lower until his swollen dick slips out, slapped against his stomach. Your lips part in awe, looking at it up and down; your eyes fixate on the white fluid beading at the tip. It’s precum according to Twitter. 

Your stomach is doing somersaults. Why did you think you could do this? Why did you think you could fit all of that in your mouth? You have a gag reflex!

Fingers creep through your hair, almost soothing you, messing your hair just a little. “Go on, baby,” he pushes. “Take it just like you told me you wanted to.” 

You press an unassuming kiss on the base of his cock first, earning a curse from him. 

God you’re such a virgin. 

You stick your tongue out, letting it glide from the base up to the precum where you close your mouth around the tip. His fingers in your hair leave your scalp, the fingers wrap around your hair creating a makeshift ponytail, insinuating he wants to have control over her. Maybe he’s holding back.

Yeah Mark is definitely holding back. 

If it was anyone else like one of his flings, he would’ve already been far into their throat, shoving his dick in as far as allowed. But he’s not. Because you’re different. He likes you. He definitely likes you. If you were just anyone else he would be less…reserved. He doesn’t want to scare you. He’s refraining himself. 

It’s not for long, though. You come to realize that you need more, you want him to teach you about his stupid “adult games”. You use one of your hands to play with his balls and the other to hold onto his calf. You release your hold when you wrap your hand around the base of his cock, a.k.a the part you couldn’t fit in your mouth. He twitches in your mouth, while he cusses again, his grip on your hair tightening. You assume you’re into pain by the way your cunt clenches around nothing at the feeling. 

Mr. Lee clicks his tongue, the “tsk” he gives is just a little condescending. Using his free hand, he grips your jaw to help you out a bit, easing his dick further into your mouth. “Such a pretty girl with a pretty mouth,” he grins. You take another inch of him, trying your best to use your tongue more than your teeth. You conclude sucking dick might be harder than you thought. 

“Look at you, struggling on my dick. Pretty baby’s havin’ a little trouble down there, isn’t she?” he chuckles at the way you glare up at him, all helpless and at his disposal. “Don’t forget to breathe through your nose, baby.” 

You try to breathe in, breathing in his scent as you take him deeper, letting him guide you by your hair. You swirl your tongue around his base, emitting soft groans from him. Gosh your jaw hurts. And he hasn’t even hit your throat yet! 

He groans, loudly. “Fuck, I love your little—shit—You ever had a cock in your mouth, baby?” 

You don’t answer, his hold on your jaw tightens. “Answer me.” 

Tears are forming in your eyes as you shake your head. You pull back a little only to plunge his cock farther, his pubes tickling your nose just a little. 

“Good girl,” he praises, your chest swells with pride. “Such a smart girl, aren’t you?” 

You’re so wet now, you’re desperate. You bob your head, tears becoming more prevalent in your eyes everytime he hits your throat. He smiles, using his thumb to wipe away your tears while still holding your jaw. 

You finally have the courage to look up at him, seeing how large he appears from this angle. He’s got a small smirk on his face, a strand of his greying hair fallen on his forehead. 

“Fuck,” he groans. “Look at how fuckin’ gorgeous you look,” He praises, now rubbing your cheek with his thumb. “You’re such a slut too, beggin’ to suck your friend’s dad’s cock. You love my cock, don’t you?” 

You whine around his dick, gasping when he yanks you by the hair to pull out. He’s looking at you expectantly. A smirk plastered on his face. You bite your lip, nodding your head eagerly. “Yes!” you cry “Yes, sir!”

He’s immediately satisfied, plunging your mouth back straight to his dick. This time, you hollow out your cheeks, sliding your mouth even further and backwards. His hips thrust upwards, clutching your hair harshly as he uses your mouth. “Such a good girl for me, baby, fuck. Baby knows how to use her mouth for some good, huh?” 

His praise makes you hum around his shaft. Though, a part of you feels just a little jealous he’s been with other people. Not to mention the fact that he’s clearly had a wife. 

Mr. Lee’s dick hits the back of your throat making you gag around him. “Thaaat’s my little slut,” he groans out. “Gag on my dick like I know you wanna.” 

You do as you’re told, letting his cock slide into the back of your throat over and over again. You feel him twitch inside you, his hips beginning to stutter. 

He cusses again, “M’gonna cum, baby,” he pants “M’gonna cum down your throat, and you’re gonna fuckin’ take it, aren’t you?” he chuckles. “You’re gonna take it just like you wanted, pretty girl.” 

You whine around his cock. He smiles. 

Mr. Lee is beyond pleased. Good. 

“Fuuuck,” he lets out a long drawl before he shoots his cum straight down your throat. Your eyes nearly roll to the back of your head at the feeling. He yanks you off his dick, a string of saliva connecting your lips to his dick. “Swallow it all.” 

You oblige. Looking up at him when you’ve taken everything. “I’ve never done that before.” you timidly admit. 

He scrunches his nose at you, his eyes still hooded. “Lying is a bad, bad thing to do, little girl.” 

You pout, “I swear!” 

“Then you’re very good at it,” he holds your jaw again, his thumb parting your lips. “You ever been kissed before?” 

“Once or twice.” you murmur, a little ashamed. 

He gives you a little smile, his lips now touching—kissing yours. You whine against him, your hand resting on his thigh. He grins against your lips, reaching down to pick you up and place you on his thigh. You’re pretty sure he can taste his cum now that his tongue made its way inside. 

Something possessed you when you were straddling his thigh, the next thing you knew, you were rubbing your cunt on his leg. 

Mr. Lee chuckles softly, watching you in complete amusement as you humped his thigh. You’re so sensitive from rubbing your thighs together that you’re such a whiny mess on him. Yes, you still need to get back to your friend (his daughter), but yes—you feel too good to do so. 

He keeps you secure, his hand still on your waist as he watches you use his thigh to your heart's content, moaning and whining out just for him. You don’t even care that you’re leaving a damp spot on his stupid trousers. “Get off on my thigh, you poor baby, you need to cum so badly, don’t you?” 

You sob, his hand on your waist comforting you. “Please,” you begin to beg, “J-Just wanna cum, Daddy, please~” 

That’s the exact moment his grasp on your waist tightens, his already dark eyes grow darker. “Good girl,” he praises, his heart swollen from pride by the name you called him. “Such a good girl making yourself cum all over Daddy’s thigh.” 

You cry out, your body shuddering and clinging onto the man for dear life. As if you could get any closer to your orgasm, he continues. 

“That’s why you need me, huh, you need a fuckin’ Daddy.” he groans “None of these boys, lousy little inexperienced college boys. Do they bother you, baby? Is that why you come to me to get off? You come to me to guide you? Why you need your Daddy?”  

A loud moan leaves your lips, “Yes, yes, yes, Daddy! T-That’s why I need you, need y-you so…so bad!” 

“Good baby,” he coos, drawing out the “O” as he lifts your flimsy shirt above your head, pushing your bra out of the way, pinching your nipples. “Cum. Cum for Daddy, sweetheart.” 

Your limbs turn all jelly-like, and the next thing you know you’re like a puddle in Mr. Lee’s arms. Screaming and crying as your body spasms with nothing but pleasure, it’s like you’re seeing stars. You can barely hear him praising you endlessly as you cling onto him. You’re a hundred percent sure you’re sobbing tears. 

He’s got a shit eating grin on his face as he takes you in. His finger dipping in your shorts to find the slick that’s gushed out of you, holding it to his mouth to taste. “Pussy’s so fuckin’ good,” he mumbles to himself as his eyes shoot to your tits then right back at your face. “Pull your shirt down, baby.” The smile never leaves his stupid face. “And fix your cute little bra.” 

Your face is on fire. You glare at him, fixing your bra. This man can’t be real.

You’re both just staring at each other now, not really paying any mind to the time or anything else, really. But, the clock on his wall is like a slap in the face. You sigh. “I- I should really go.” 

Mr. Lee looks at his watch. He sighs, “Guess so, baby.” 

You place a kiss to his cheek and throw him a demure smile when you pull away. “You know where to find me.” 

He rolls his eyes at you before grabbing your face, kissing you right on the lips. He pulls away. “Dunno ‘bout that honey,” he teases. 

“Then maybe open your window later for a little something, Daddy.” you tease back. 

You both realized your rooms’ windows face eachother. 

Perfect. 

“Maybe I will.” 

Your teeth sink into your bottom lip, biting back another smile. “See ya, Mr. Lee.” 

“Later, gorgeous.” 

You leave his room, closing the door behind you with an ear-to-ear grin on your face. Before you know it you’re lying to your friend again about how sick you feel, saying you need to go home. 

On your way up to your room, you’re mouthing “Mark” until you open your window. Your face heats up when his window is already wide open, he’s already there giving you one of his shit-eating grins. 

You beam back at him. Luckily, you managed to get his number from his daughter. You call him. He looks at you questionably, but picks up, amused. 

“Hey there, old man.” you taunt. 

“You really shouldn’t have came into my room, honey.” 

“Really? Why not?” you pout. 

“Being with your friend's dad really isn’t good for you.” 

You narrow your eyes at him. “And how do you know what’s good for me Mr. Mark ‘know it all’ Lee?” 

“Cause' I’m older.” he extends his arms, stretching “Got more life experience.” 

“So,” you prod. “Whatcha’ gonna do about it, hm?” 

“Knock some sense into you.” 

“Uh-huh,” you raise your eyebrows. “How do you plan on doing that, exactly?” 

His eyes never leave yours. “You’ll see.” 

★ Adult Games | A “One Way Ticket” work | wc: 2.6k

★ Taglist | @chitaphrrrr @nctdom @shescharlie @marklexleaf @jenos-bbygirl @the-universe-in-you-jjh @shiningdery @aecu @moonlightjaemin @donutswithjaminthemiddle @f4irycoven @meowniee @jenoxygen @yincotton @luvjeongjaehyun @gyyyyyu @sunshinedhyuck @3ranch @pinkynana @dialosthermind @ishireads @icy-thot @fineapplehoe @sbngcha @chaerincl @lookingforangst @skye-is-here @hyuckypjm @airpodbaekuwu @bellamendoza @miyahhhhh @damiien-haas @imrinana @cyclothimikhh @back2jisung @aintdprian @tacojisung @nana-blair @xuxibelle @billboard-singer @yesohhsehun @w0nuuu @lava1004 @kpoplover-19 @allofuswantgwinam @if-i-like-i-reblog @beautywine @anowamij @beautywine

©earth-to-that-asian/mull3ts, 2023

[effervescentpoet]

˚₊‧꒰ა Traitor: Sirius Black x Slytherin!Reader ໒꒱

CWs: outdated views on gender, hinted mistreatment of children, sirius’ parents, fem reader

Your mothers hand reached down to tap under your chin, a quiet request for you to keep your head level. You inhaled as you managed to look up at everyone around you.

Adults parading their children, those children threatening to frown in uncomfortable dresses and suits. You could feel your own clothes heavily on your body, your waist itched from the stitching and you couldn’t even move to scratch it.

Minutes feel like hours following your mother around, listening to their adult conversations about circumstances you’ve never heard of. You simply can’t stand it any longer.

Ever so bravely, you tap her arm, “Mummy, I have to use the lavatory please.” She doesn’t spare you a glance, only moving to grasp your hand in a way only you could find threatening.

“Of course, Dear,” she squeezed your hand painfully, “You remember where it is.” You don’t, but you wouldn’t dare tell her that. You take your opportunity to leave as you enter the nearest hallway. Anxiety fills your stomach as you quickly realize you really don’t know where you’re going.

Your quiet footsteps lead you to the only door you can see is cracked open. Not actually needing the toilet, you tip-toe toward the door, peeking inside.

There you find a boy. Upon first glance, he could be your age- maybe older, he’s sitting at a table so you can’t tell how tall he is. Black hair, gelled neatly but you could tell he was playing with the front, some strands completely out of place. He looked a bit grumpy as he blankly stared into a book. He wasn’t reading it, you didn’t see his eyes moving, but he was staring into it enough- turning pages at random rather robotically, that an outsider would think he was.

“What are you reading?” You ask as he jumps slightly, not expecting somebody outside the room.

“I’m not.” He says sharply, closing the book and tossing it onto the table, “But I was holding ‘The Outsiders’.”

“Oh, I’m not sure if I’ve ever heard of it.”

“Me neither. It was just there. Who are you?”

You answer the question as you enter the room, closing the door behind you. You hear him scoff at your last name, having been compared to you by his parents for years.

“Right, nice to finally meet you, I’m Sirius Black. What are you doing here?” He asks.

Your eyebrows raise at the mention of the ‘Black’ name, your parents loved his parents yet refused to let you meet their children.

“I’m- uh- trying to escape for a little while.” You stuttered, trying to remember which boy your mother said to stay away from. You feel, though, it was him.

“Right, okay Trouble, let me guess; bathroom?” He smirked up at you, he already knew the answer.

You smile and shake your head at the nickname as you pull the chair out across from him and sit down, his eyes watching as you slightly start to writhe around. You’re contorting your waist and shoulders, trying to rub your itchiness away on the back of the chair.

He hides his amused smile as you look back at him, finally a little more comfortable.

“I apologize,” you rush, embarrassed you ever did that- let alone in front of a stranger, “These dresses are just so uncomfortable and I hate them.”

“Don’t apologize, I can’t imagine how anyone stands those things. I tried one on as a joke, and couldn’t stand it for even a minute.” He responds, resting his chin in his hand. A silent reassurance that you didn’t need to be perfect around him. You appreciated it.

“You tried a dress on?” You laughed, “But you’re a boy! That’s hilarious.”

“What, just because I’m a boy means I can’t try an item of clothing on? That’s ridiculous.” He answered, bracing himself for the all-too-common bullying that follows such a slip up. He can’t hide his surprise when all you answer is, “Yeah, I suppose you’re right. I would rather wear pants at events like these than this awful gown.”

He spends the next few minutes trying to figure you out as you close your eyes, welcoming the silence.

“I suppose I should get going,” You say as you gather your skirt and stand up, “May I ask, though, are you the Black who’s my age, or have you got a younger brother?”

He seems thrown off by this question, but answers anyway, “I’ve got an eight year old brother out there with Mum, why do you ask?”

Giggling, “Mummy always tells me to never speak to you. I don’t know why, though, you’re good company.” You answer as you leave, closing the door behind you.

—

The dreaded annual gala for the Sacred 28 came far too soon. Your new gown, while not as itchy as last year, was still terribly uncomfortable and you hated following your parents around for hours on already sore feet.

You’d been taught not to play with your fingers, or sway, or doddle. You hated staying still, and you hated listening to their conversations, and you hated the music and the atmosphere. You momentarily take deep breaths as to not let the negativity show on your face, and if anyone would have asked you would just apologize, blaming a bad mood.

You can’t help but fantasize what you could be doing right now. Maybe you would be running through the fields, or climbing a tree you weren’t supposed to climb. Maybe you’d lay in the grass and stare at the clouds you could see in the clear, summer sky. Or maybe-

You felt a hand on your shoulder. You looked up to your mother, whose eyes were glaring intensely into yours. Her hand tightened as you masked a wince, looking at the family in front of you. A mother, a father, and a son.

“I apologize, I didn’t hear you.” You say, as politely as you can, smiling to add warmth.

The mother in front of you smiles tightly, “Would you be a doll and fetch Sirius for us?” You find that you don’t like her smile. You nod anyway, turning and walking through the same doors you remember from last year, feeling watched. You didn’t even want to think about what was going through your mothers head.

Rushing down the hall, your footsteps were louder this time when you found the door slightly ajar.

You walked in and found him holding the same book as last time, this time looking at you.

“Trouble! Glad you could find me.” He closed the book and smiled at you.

You smiled back and closed the door, “Yeah, well, your mother is looking for you and she didn’t seem very happy.”

He frowned, “Why send you? No offense, but why not send Reg- Regulus? I mean- I thought our parents were trying to keep us apart for some reason.”

“I’m not quite sure, I really wasn’t listening to their conversation. It did strike me as odd that they knew we had met. They had to have, right? To assume I even knew who you were?”

“I did mention I ran into a girl, I’m sorry if they figured out it was you.”

“That’s okay. Anyway, I believe we don’t have much time to talk since they’re expecting you.” You say, pulling out a chair and sitting across from him.

He pauses standing up, “Then why are you sitting?”

“Well, who’s to say you weren’t in the same spot as last time and it took me a little while to find you?” You smirked.

“You really are trouble,” He laughed, “Right then what do you want to talk about?”

You hadn’t really thought about it, “Umm… Oh! You’re starting at Hogwarts this year, right? What house do you want to get sorted into?”

He faltered. Never in his life has he met someone who seemed so open about non-Slytherin houses. If your parents were Slytherins, you had to want to be a Slytherin, there wasn’t really a choice.

“I guess,” He started, “Maybe I want to be a Gryffindor. I know it can’t happen, but I’ve read stories where famous Gryffindors do fantastic things, and I think I want to be like them.”

You smiled, “I understand that. I think I want to be a Hufflepuff for similar reasons. Most of the Hufflepuffs I’ve read about have been so kind and understanding, helpful- I want to be like that when I’m older.”

“Then I hope you get into Hufflepuff.”

“And I hope you get into Gryffindor, but what if I get sorted to Slytherin?” You frown.

“You won’t, because you’re kind. There’s no such thing as a kind Slytherin.”

“Promise me that if I do, you’ll still be friends with me?”

“I promise. But you won’t, believe me.”

He smiled back then sighed and stood up, “I guess we should go back out there, huh?”

You sighed as well but stood up with him. You both walked toward the door, but you stopped, realizing you were taller than him.

“What are you waiting for?” He asked, turning around, only to find you smiling down at him. He blushed slightly, “Yeah, yeah, you’re taller than me, let’s just go.”

You laughed at his faux anger and followed him back out toward your parents.

—

You find yourself walking down the same hallway for the third summer in a row, finding the same door, and the same boy behind it.

“Sirius! Hi!” You smiled, as you sat down opposite him, like always, “What’s wrong?” His hair was slightly more unruly, and he seemed to have a light grey color sitting under his eyes.

“Hey, Trouble. Nothing’s wrong, just bittersweet.” He lied, gently.

“What do you mean?” You ask, tilting your head.

“I just- I think this will be the last time we see each other. Here, at least, until school.”

“Why do you think that?”

“You didn’t hear? I got sorted into Gryffindor.”

“But that’s a good thing, I thought-”

“My parents told me if I’m not a Slytherin, I can’t be around Slytherins. Something about me taking and using their information, and ‘Why would I ever want to show off such a disgraceful blood traitor?’ bullshit. She’s actually the one who sent me in here this time.”

“Oh, I’m so sorry… I can’t even imagine what that must be like.” You could, though.

“Don’t be sorry, I mean- Hogwarts is amazing. All my friends there are Gryffindors and they’re the most welcoming people you could ever meet in your life.”

“Tell me about them?” You ask.

He tells you about his friends, how they’ve formed their own little group: The Marauders. He tells you about the teachers he loves and the teachers he hates, and the classes he’s good at vs. the classes he’s not. You ask about the food there, and about the Headmaster.

Previously, you’ve thought about how you could listen to him talk for hours, and now you have. You would gladly do it again.

Eventually the time for you to part rolls upon you. As you both walk toward the door, you turn around and you hug him.

Muffled into his shoulder, you say, “Just a hug to stay together for the next couple years, don’t forget me.”

He wraps his arms around you, “As if I could.”

—

Your eyes searched for him in the sea of red-lined robes. You and all the other first years were huddled in the middle of the Great Hall, being welcomed by professor Dumbledore, but you weren’t even listening. Distracted by looking for his grey-blue eyes, you finally found them. He was already looking at you, pointing at you to his bespectacled friend. They both start waving to you, and you smile and wave back.

The two boys across from him turn around to look at you as your name gets called out.

You smile nervously at Sirius while he smiles reassuringly.

You walk up the steps and across the floor. You slide up the stool, and you can feel the Sorting Hat get placed on your head. Your eyes barely leave his as you hear the hat talking, “Loyal, kind, brave, and strong,” It starts, “but your ambition rules over all else, you have a strong sense to prove yourself, don’t you?”

You watch as Sirius’ smile slowly disappears.

“Slytherin!” The hat calls out, and you look over to the sea of green cheering for you. You don’t feel very happy though.

You find Sirius again before you walk down the stairs, and he only spares one glare at you before he turns to his friends. The last thing you can think before you sit down next to the other first year Slytherins is, ‘but he promised.’

[anaalnathrakhs]

i am exactly the same as i was three years ago, but i put on a new coat of paint over the same old mechanisms and now i can pretend being normal. i can function. sort of. i have fixed almost zero problems, but i can bear them anyway so. why care. what would i even do? how does one even fix that?

i don't fucking know what i'm doing here! people keep trying to give me some sort of pep talks like!! remember what you're doing it for!! and like. yeah i said i'd like this or that job because i have nothing better to say, it's my dream if you want, i have to pretend something. i wish i had any monetizable skills. or any skills really. but i don't. yay. i'm gonna be stuck living with my parents forever. that's what i fucking deserve.

woooooo the guilt is eating me! it's eating me alive!

[diloveplastichouseware]

Improve comfort and accessibility with adult commode chairs and custom restroom supplies

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Facility managers, healthcare providers, and caregivers should work together to identify the unique needs of users and select the most suitable Adult Toilet Chairs and Custom Toilet Supplies. By doing so, they contribute to creating environments that are not only functional but also considerate of the diverse needs of the individuals they serve. In prioritizing comfort and accessibility, we foster environments that promote independence, well-being, and inclusivity for all.

[dansformations]

"This is life"

Tags: Male tfs, dumbification, IQ loss, fart kink, burp kink.

"Now this Is life" i said to myself while entering to my apartament. Since i gave that potion to my big brother, im living like a man should.

See, my big brother was always too polite, to strict, like an adult, i Guess he took the dad role since my dad leave us, so even when were just us two, it was like living with an stric dad.

"Dont leave the dirty clothes in the floor" "Dont Belch at the table!" "No marihuana!" "Clean the toilet seat, u gross!"

I was so sick of It. So i check and check in the weirdest places of the internet until i found a site that said that rigthfully could change peoples personality. It looked like a scam... But was worth trying. Just 3 days after a package arrived.

"Only put this oil in a drink, put some scent of the person you wanna 'the turned' be like, and then make sure 'the turned' drink It" - said the handmade intructions.

I put some soda in a glass, the oil and... Why not? I take my undies off and dip it in the drink for half of minute, then just left the wet undies in a corner of the room.

I gave it to my brother saying it was an 'Peace offer', he was surprised, and took it with an smile. First sip. All ok. Second sip. Confused face. Third sip...

- It tastes a little bit fu-UUUUURRRP - his talking turned into a big, deep, belch, he got Blushed - oh, excuse m-EEEEERRP AURRRP- You little fuck! What did You put in my drink!?

- Just something... To relax you

He tried to get up from the couch but when he bend, a Big, rumbly and smelly fart came out from his ass, he was looking shock.

- Good one bro! -told Him.

- Haha i know - he said, then he realiced - wait, what? No! That was gro-UUUUUAAARRRRRRRP - He Belched again- that was a combo! - he laughed

- Exactly! Why don't you finish your drink? Full that Tank of combos, big bro

He looked confused for a moment, like trying to remenber something, but at the end he shrugged and drank the rest of his drink, sealing his new personality.

- The first one is coming lil bro - he said with a lower tone, then he Open his mouth and...- UUUUUUUUUARRRRRRP -lifted his leg and- PFFFFFFRRTRTTTTTFFFRT

We both laugh together, which wasnt usual. Since that day things changed, no more scolding, no more laundry or cleaning, deliveries instead of cooking, gym and no showers, weed and beers everytime we want, burping and farting on the table or any other place, even each other faces. I never tough we could get a long this good... And i Guess we couldnt, my new brother is basically a copy of me, thats why we finally get along but... Who cares?

"Now this Is life" i said to myself while entering with wings for lunch to our messy, smelly apartament, the familiar stench says hi to me and i breath it happily.

- Finally broski, i was hungry so had to eat pizza while waiting - he said

- Still have room for the wings?

He lied on his chair, lifted a leg and rip a a lot of farts out, the stench quickly take over the room, and i just laugh while fan away the stench with my hands.

- Now i do - he said with a smile

Man, this is life.

[cillianmurphysdimples]

Female Y/N / Cillian fanfic (Part Twenty Nine)

Absolutely not based on anything real at all, all totally fictional, fanciful and all total bollocks.

Warnings for sexual references and language. Adult themes. Not suitable for under 18s.

We Got Issues

Part Twenty Nine: Y/N doesn't head back to Dublin, and instead - both sated and calm - she joins Cillian on set. His behaviour shows her all the love she had hoped he would feel, and it's validating for her. She find that his returning sense of humour and smiles only makes her happier. Y/N finds herself battling her anxiety a little once they're back at the hotel. Y/N feels she may to be experiencing a hormonal shift, and Cillian finds he likes it a lot. [Fluff/Anxiety/Sexual suggestion]

@borntodiemp3 @meadowshelby @watermeezer @lavender-haze-01 @strangeions @cherry-cilly @dragonsneversharetheirtreasure @aesthetic0cherryblossom @meister95 @vivianleighwishesshewasme

------------

After four solid hours, all you can do is laugh. Every moment he gets - every granted chance, every stolen chance, every time ‘cut’ is bellowed - Cillian's eyes are on you, his thumbs up and his eyebrows raised, seeking the confirmation he seems to need that you're doing alright. He's just being sweet - protective and loving, and making sure you're okay - but as Tom calls lunch at almost one thirty in the afternoon, all you want to do is shake him and tell him that being a further five minutes along in this pregnancy doesn't need his check-in. You know it's for your benefit, that he's showing you this is what he wants, that he's happy, because he needs you to know he's 'in' - he's done this twice before already and he knows what's expected. Or, he's doing it because you practically threatened to leave if he didn't want this child. You appreciate it, though, because you know he's acting this way to make you happy, and because he loves you. He feels badly for the morning too, and so do you, but you also know he feels amazing after his seemingly clarifying ejaculatory experience. His mood is good, his face is bright, and somewhere inside you, you want a repeat. You look around after Tom's announcement and realise that for the first time in hours, you can't actually see Cillian anywhere. You stand up from your designated camping chair and switch off the heater. You dig into your coat pocket for your phone, to ring or message him and see where he is, only to remember that in your pocket is Cillian's phone, too. You begin to walk away from the canal, looking for anyone you'd become more acquainted with, to see if anyone has any idea where Cillian is.

“Well, Y/N,” Packy calls out with a bright grin, appearing from a Port-a-Loo.

You smile back, “Hiya,” you push your hands into your coat pockets for warmth.

“Have you lost himself?” He asks, walking in line with you in what seems to be the direction of the catering truck.

“Yeah, he's disappeared.” You chuckle.

“Ah well, I beat him for the toilet there,” he laughs, “He might be around by the carpark at the other one. Or he's off for a wee smoke.” He nudges your arm with his elbow. “You gonna come and grab a cuppa?” He gestures to the truck ahead of you. “Warm y'up a bit.”

“I'll find Cill first.” You smile. Like summoning the devil, though, you can see Cillian walking towards the catering truck from the right and he holds up his hand by way of a greeting and to acknowledge he's spotted you. You come to a stop just before the truck, as Packy continues inside, and you wait with your shoulders raised to keep the chill off your neck. “Where'd you go?” You ask as he slows his steps as he reaches you. In full Tommy costume and make up, he doesn't look like your Cillian at all.

“Toilet,” he raises his eyebrows. “You have my phone there?” He asks, holding out his hand. He's still wearing his costume leather gloves, but you don't blame him in this cold. You withdraw your hand from your pocket with his phone and drop it into his palm. “I'm gonna give the lads a ring. Go on in, get warm,” he nods to the truck, then leans close to give you a soft kiss. “I'll be back in a minute.” He's blunt but not unkind, and you know he hasn't switched off for his break. He turns his back as he taps on his phone, and holds it up to his ear as he paces in a small circle. You wait for a moment before you dip inside the truck and seek out Packy and Ned, the only two you know beyond a friendly wave who are still around now.

“C'mon Y/N, girl. Get your arse down here.” Ned taps his hand on a vacant patio chair beside him. “Where's the man himself?” He asks as you sit down slowly, a little afraid the rickety seat might break.

“Phonecall,” you smile. “His son has mock exams ready for the leaving cert. He wanted to see how he got on.”

“Remember them lads as wee ones when we did Perrier's Bounty,” Ned laughs, “One doing their leavers already?” He shakes his head. “Tea, Y/N?”

You shake your head, glancing around at all the other people eating, and feel a little anxious over your rising nausea at the cacophony of smells. “I'm okay,” you wave your hand at him. “How are you guys not blocks of ice?” You ask, making conversation to distract yourself. “It's freezing and you've been on and off that canal all morning.”

“We are,” Packy laughs. “Fucking foundered, but you're not the only one with a heater.” He chuckles. “Cillian has the right idea - sure that crafty fucker has t-shirts and all on under the suit.”

“Aye, I saw that. Two pairs of jocks on too,” Ned laughs, talking around a bite out of his sandwich. “So his balls will be warm anyway.”

“Catch yourself on,” Packy laughs loudly, “It's for warming the arse cheeks.”

“Well he works out for that arse,” Ned keeps the slagging going, and you wonder if it's still true slagging if the slagee isn't present.

You take a deep breath as you feel the nausea increasing and the threat of a gag lingers in your throat. You place your hand to your mouth and breathe steadily, begging silently that you don't vomit your half a cup of coffee with spectators. Music plays quietly around the truck and you try to focus on it, glad Packy and Ned have drifted into conversation without you. Ed Sheeran sings Thinking Out Loud and you close your eyes and focus on the guitar solo. You drag your eyes open at the touch of a hand to your shoulder and you look up to see Cillian standing over you.

“Y'alright?” He asks with a concerned frown. When you go to open your mouth to answer, you realise your battle is lost and you dart to your feet, your hand still clamped over your lips, and speed as quickly as you can from the truck. “Y/N?” Cillian calls after you, and glances around at everyone as he follows you out. You're vomiting on the gravel just clear of the truck doorway when Cillian steps down beside you. His hand on your back is anything but supportive, though, as you retch again. You breathe deeply, hands braced on your knees, then slowly straighten up as you rub at your nose and chin with the back of your hand. You grimace at the taste and the smell, and the ick left behind. “Fuck, you're green.” Cillian turns down the corners of his mouth. “Feel better?”

You cringe, “I think it was all the food….” You say, swallowing the acid taste out of your mouth.

“I am actually mortified for ye,” Cillian laughs a little, “You boked as you walked out, and it sounded like the worst belch in history.”

You screw your eyes shut, “Oh god,” you cover your face with your hands. “I can't go back in there.” You turn towards him and push your face into his chest. He immediately wraps his arms around you, and the comfort is all encompassing. “We can't say anything about the baby yet - how the hell do I explain throwing up?”

“We’ll say you've a flu or something.” Cillian tries hard to dismiss your anxiety. “Ah, c'mon, I'll mind ya.” He squeezes his arms around you. “I'm cold as fuck, and I'm gonna eat the hand off meself if I don't get something down me.”

You turn your face, resting your cheek against him. “Boys okay?” You ask then slowly push yourself out of his arms.

“Yeah, grand.” He nods with a smile. “C'mon, mo ghrá, I've to eat or I'll die. The Famine is over - feed me.” He takes your hand and jerks his head back at the truck door. Reluctantly, you lace your fingers in his tightly and allow him to lead on.

.

“Why do they call it morning sickness if it's all fucking day?” You sigh, breathing deeply, as you emerge from the bathroom for the third time in the two hours since you and Cillian had returned to the hotel. You didn't get back here until after six and, as it's approaching eight pm, you just want to feel better and sleep. But you don't, you feel horrendous - dizzy and sickly - and you look at him, sprawled on the bed in his boxers, socks and a scuffed up band t-shirt, and push a pout to your lips. He offers a sympathetic pout in return, then reaches for his phone as it buzzes. It hasn't stopped buzzing for the last hour. “You're popular,” you say as you reach for your water bottle on his bedside locker. “Work?” He hums as he responds to his message, and looks up at you as though he has no idea what you've said. His raised eyebrows tell you he really doesn't have a clue. “Your messages - is it work?”

He places the phone down onto the locker and looks over his glasses at you. “Ah, no, it's just Yvonne.”

You draw your water bottle slowly down from your lips. “Yvonne?” You frown slightly. “Everything okay with the boys?” You ask.

“They're grand, yeah, she was just asking about Christmas.” He says and turns his head away, focusing again on the TV playing at a low volume. You don't even know what's on, but he seems to be drawn to it.

“Oh,” you fasten the lid back into your bottle and set it back onto his locker again. “Is she…okay?” You ask, wondering if the fluttering in your chest is coming out in your words. “Cill?” He doesn't turn his head back, or answer, and you realise he isn't even listening by the ‘turned off brain’ look on his face - mouth open, tongue winding around his teeth, eyes glazed even though it looks like he's staring at the TV. “Cillian!”

He snaps his head around, brows raised, and pushes a doughy smile to his cheeks. “Wha'?”

“I said, is everything okay with Yvonne?” You ask him, and you're feeling nauseous again. You don't know if it's the ridiculous levels of anxiety over the fact that he's texting his ex wife, or just the growing sperm monster in your uterus. “It's just…she doesn't usually text you like this.”

“Yeah,” he nods, “Just Christmas,” he repeats and he frowns at you before he turns back to the TV.

You understand he's tired - you know he's exhausted both from last night and from work - but you wish he'd stop zoning out and realise you want a full conversation about whatever is happening on his phone and not just half-thought answers. You sigh and tell yourself this is silly. They share children, and there were up in the air plans over where the boys would be this Christmas, of course he would be in touch with her. You mentally scold yourself for assuming the worst, and you pick up your water again and take it with you around to the side of the bed you are sleeping on. You climb up, and shuffle right back to lean against the headboard. As soon as you're settled, Cillian reaches his hand out and rests his palm against your thigh. It's soft, small, and insignificant, but in your anxious mind it is stabilising and reassuring, and infinitely intimate.

“I'm fucked,” he declares, yawning loudly. He stretches his body intensely, and his t-shirt rises up over his belly as he reaches his arms up. The childish part of you wants to blow a raspberry against his belly button, but the mature woman that you are just wants to follow that happy trail down into his boxers. Why are you horny? You were satisfied this morning! Is it jealousy, over the messages with Yvonne, or are you genuinely just horny? He drops his arms back down and looks at you funny. “What's up with ya, fucking eejit?”

You realise you've been caught and you laugh a little. “Saw the happy trail.” You bear your teeth in a fake grin and he shakes his head, laughing.

“Ah,” he quirks his head, “Sure, I'll let you see somethings, but I won't let you see everything.” He laughs as he reaches up his hand and drags off his glasses. He turns awkwardly and throws them into the locker beside him, then brings the TV controls back with him. You can't help looking at him - and once again you want to know why you're ready to climb on top of him! Evidently he's picking up on your oddness as he starts laughing and turns his head to you, “What the fuck is wrong with you this evening?” He shakes his head, and his smile is wide and genuine, with his tongue resting against his bottom teeth.

You blush and shrug your shoulders, “I am so horny, Cillian.” You admit, pretending to cry. And the look on his face is priceless, it's like he can't believe you've been so open. “But I feel stupidly sick, too, so don't worry about it. I am not pestering you for a session.” You laugh when, after a moment, he actually looks relieved.

“Thank fuck - I think I'm too tired to even get the horn.” He laughs, which makes you smile, and he reaches his hand out to you and rests it against your thigh again. “Do you want me to get you some 7up?” He asks as he shuffles a little closer. He doesn't spoon up against you, but he lounges close and keeps his hand on your leg.

“No, I have some water.” You decline his favourite offer.

“No bother. Will we watch a movie?” He asks, swinging the controls around in his free hand. “Or will I hook up the Spotify there and just put on some music? I don't even think I've it in me to finish a fucking film tonight.”

Tired too, you shrug. “Put on the film,” you suggest. “Does it matter if we fall sleep?”

Cillian laughs, “All the work that goes into a movie and you're away off to sleep while it's on!” He tuts, joking.

You laugh a little and then to face him, “Speaking of all the work going into something,” you say, and have to stop as you laugh again. “Packy and Ned were going bananas over your backside today.”

“They were wha'?!” He chuckles.

You nod and laugh harder, “Ned said you worked out for your arse.”

Cillian throws back his head, and his tongue peeks out of his mouth once again as he laughs. As he straightens up, he shakes his head, “That's lovely, thanks.” He grins. “What the fuck were ye three talking about?” He asks, rhetorically, and his stronger Cork accent flies out firmly for the first time that day. “I think you're as bad as they are.”

“Well I've an advantage,” you say, “I get to see the arse.” You giggle as he rolls his eyes. “They're good guys, I like them. Packy is so funny.”

“He's comedic timing like nobody else,” Cillian nods. He stretches out his body again and it seems to entice another loud yawn. “Ah, here, I need to sleep. Will we turn off the light?” He asks, as he turns awkwardly until he is able to climb down off the bed.

He stands at the bedside and stretches his body once again. You can see the outline of a semi in his boxers - though you're not clueless enough to assume it's arousal and know full well it's spontaneous - and you watch his t-shirt expose his treasure trail once again as his arms stretch uoward. You think he's doing it on purpose at this point, and the urge to crawl across the bed and push your hand into his shorts is strong, and you're as confused by it as you are intrigued by it. Why the fuck was this happening?! You're fairly sure it's a mix of jealousy over his communication with Yvonne, and the fact that the sex this morning had been particularly good. You make a mental note, though, to Google increased horniness as a pregnancy symptom. You draw your eyes away, too afraid of what thoughts you keep getting, and you sit patiently waiting in the bed, under the covers, whilst he disappears for a pee. He returns swiftly and you're disappointed that his time in the bathroom has altered your view. He plunges the room into darkness, flicking off the main light, and flops into the bed beside you. This time he does spoon up behind you, and he wraps his arm around your waist and settles his hand at the bottom of your belly. You think about how he's been today - gentle and positive about your pregnancy - and you hope that it's a sign of him accepting it, and not just the calm before real realisation sets in. But you think if the day, too, and realise you've seen him so happy today. His smiles have been brighter, his mood has been lighter, and while you know there is still a lot to deal with, you hang on tight to his many of his very special, very specific to him, tongue-on-teeth laughs and smiles you've been treated to today.

Of course, thinking of those smiles only ignites your want. You fight every horny fibre of your being in wanting to start gyrating your arse against his penis, and the sexier thought of pushing his hand down from your tummy and into your pants. You're driving yourself insane with the hypersexual thoughts, but it's amusing to you, too. You consider that on a less exhausted day, you might get Cillian to meet you halfway.

“Y'alright?” Cillian asks in a quiet voice, his hand still on your belly as he hugs you tightly. He's tucked up so close behind you that you feel so protected, your anxiety is all but out for the night.

You nod your head against the pillow, “Fine,” you reply, just as quietly.

“I'm really sorry about this morning. I know we talked - and made up,” you can hear him smirking. “But, just…yeah. I'm sorry. I do want this, so much,” he moves his hand on your belly softly. “And we'll tell the boys, and they'll have to accept. They're not babies now. And I'll talk with their Mum. And in a couple of weeks now, we'll be home in Dublin and it'll be grand.” he sighs, “I'm glad you didn't book the plane home.”

You smile, “Me too.” You feel him shift behind you, and you smirk to yourself. You're not sure if it's wishful thinking when you feel him push up against your arse. And then he does it again, and the feel of his erection is obvious. You look back over your shoulder, “I thought you were too tired for a hard on?”

Through the glow off the TV, you can see him grinning. “Yeah, but…” he laughs at himself. “Thinking about you being horny…” he laughs again, and you can tell he's bashful about voicing it.

You turn your face into the pillow and giggle, then slowly turn yourself around in the bed to lie facing Cillian. “God bless your erection. I thought I was gonna have to do it myself when you fell asleep.” The face he pulls - just about visible - makes you think his cock just twitched in his boxers. “Oh yeah… I forgot you like to think about that.” You say in a slow and hopefully sexy way. “Me…my hands…” you sink your hand beneath the covers and slowly slide down his stomach and glide your fingers over his boxers, tracing his very obvious arousal. “It's okay, I've thought about you and your hands when you're away, and I'm at home with…my hands.” He whispers a breathy ‘fuck’ and it only makes you feel even more desperate for anything he'll offer. He moves a little, though not enough to dislodge your hand from him, and he insists on a kiss: an open-mouthed, noisy, breathy, excitable kiss that fires you both up.

Long gone is the immediate need for sleep...

[machetegirl109]

Synopsis: After spending the whole Bible study daydreaming of Abby, she finally makes your fantasies come true. *inspiration: vacation bible school by ayesha erotica*

Warnings: 18+, MDNI, F/F, modern!AU, suggestive and offensive language, religion, abby&reader are 18, smut, angst, switch!abby&reader, dom!abby, sub!reader, thigh riding, fingering(r&a!receiving), oral(a!receiving), no aftercare, mean!abby x reader

important info about my stories here

©machetegirl109 (credits to VBS by ayesha erotica that inspired me to write this) DO NOT copy/steal my work OR post it on any platforms

Word Count: 2.6k+

Oneshot: Vacation Bible School

❝︎and like every other shitty love story

you came and went❞︎

Church camp happens every year during the summer. It lasts for a week; during this time, you live together in cabins, explore the outdoors, and dine in community, all while learning about religion.

You’ve been taking part in attending ever since you were a little kid. The campgrounds are filled with kids, teens, and young adults. The VBS director would be supervising the assisting staff that consisted of other members of the Christian church, where they were divided into group leaders, an audio/video coordinator, music director, Bible story tellers, game leaders, craft supervisors, and kitchen staff.

This year would be the last summer camp trip for you and the other 18 year-olds before you all start college.

Every year you’d be eager for the summertime, wanting nothing more than to arrive at the huge campsite with lots of green space, bushes and trees, picnic tables and a bonfire. Paths that led to the big main cabin where indoor activities and supper were held, another that led to multiple smaller cabins scattered around a secluded area with some portable wooden toilets by the end of the trail and finally a path that led to the forest where a beautiful river was at as well as a hiking trail.

Although you did enjoy being surrounded by the calming nature and your fellow church peers, what made you anxiously wait for the one week vacation every year was her. Abby Anderson. You two met years ago when you were kids, having to spend the days around each other as you two learned about Jesus and his rules. You and the blonde girl quickly became friends; however you never spoke to each other outside the camping grounds. In day-to-day life, you would only admire her from a distance. Whether it was on the Sunday evening services, or at the school; you paid attention to Abby’s movement as she kneeled to pray, or when she talked to those around her.

Something about her made your hands shake with nervousness, your heart skipped beats just by the thought of her so, so pretty eyes and her strong arms—

“What do you say, miss Y/N?” The pastor interrupts your thoughts and you move your eyes from Abby who’s sitting in front of you to his direction.

“I’m sorry, pastor. What was the question again?”

“What is the message in Ephesians 5:3?” He asks again and your peers, who are seated in a chair circle as the pastor stands in the middle, turn their heads towards you as they all wait for an answer.

“Uh, I… I don’t know…I’m sorry.” You shamefully look at your hands down on lap.

“That is okay, Y/N. We are all here to learn, isn't that right kids?” They all move their heads up and down, agreeing with the pastor. “Can anyone tell me what is the message in Ephesians 5:3?”

“I can.” One of the students complied.

“Yes, Abigail. Go ahead.” As soon as he calls out her name, your head shots up and you’re looking at the girl in front of you again. She clears her throat and before she begins to speak, her eyes meet yours.

“But fornication, and all uncleanness, or covetousness, let it not be onced named among you, as becometh saints;” Abby concludes, her blue eyes never leaving yours. Soon, the priest thanks her for the answer, proceeding with his class and the blonde gives you a small smile. She manspreads on her chair and you feel the blood pump faster into your veins as your body grows hot.

Abby is wearing a white tank top that exposes her strong muscles, black skinny jeans with a heavy-looking belt as well as a pair of black chuck taylor’s. You can’t help but wonder how she would look on top of you, with her blonde hair forming a curtain around your head and her big hands roaming through your body.

After spending the rest of the Bible study distracted staring at the pretty blonde across from you, the class comes to an end. “Alright,kids, that will be all for today. Go ahead and enjoy your last day here and make sure to be ready to attend the bonfire tonight!” The priest leaves the open room located inside the main cabin and soon the students follow behind. Each leaving at their own pace as they conversate with their friends. You look around you and notice Abby is still seated in her chair, like you. She smirks before standing up, making her way to you.

“You seemed a bit distracted. Anything interesting in your mind?” Abby reaches her hand out for you to hold as you leave your chair.

“Oh, nothing, it’s stupid. “ You smile shyly and hold onto her, who soon drops your hand after helping you up. She hums in response as she licks her lips and points her head towards the door, hinting you to follow her as she begins to walk.

“Well, now I need to know what stupid thing you were possibly thinking about while you stared at me the whole study.” You hide your face in your palms, cringing at how you shamelessly looked at her during the class.

“Sorry…” You muffle through your hands before dropping them to your sides again. “I didn’t mean to stare.” Abby lets out a small laugh at your reaction, loving the way you get so shy around her. You two keep walking until you reach the path that led to the area where many small cabins were scattered around.

“It’s fine, I don’t mind.” She quickly scans the area around, checking to see if anyone can see or hear the two of you. “I think I already know what you were thinking about, though.” Her eyes drop to your plump lips and your throat goes dry.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.” You play dumb and Abby chuckles.

“Hm. I think we were both thinking about the same stupid things.” She raises her hand to your cheek, lightly massaging the pad of her thumb onto your soft skin and then pushing it down to your bottom lip. You feel as if your heart dropped to your core as heat and pulse grows inside your panties. Her hand teasingly grips your neck before she drops it and takes one of your hands into hers, guiding two walk towards the portable wood toilets by the end of the trail.

She looks around once again, checking for people and opens the door as she rushly gets in, pulling you with her and shutting the door closed. Your back presses into the wood as one of her hands pushes you against the wall by the neck. Abby’s blue eyes turned a shade darker, desired in them as she placed her knee between your legs, earning a small moan from you.

“You’ve been watching me the whole week,” She says as her free hand creeps under the hem of your shirt, fingers lightly tingling the skin of your stomach. “But I’ve been watching you too.” She palms your left breast harshly, flicking her calloused finger on your nipple and you feel yourself getting wetter by the second. “You know the expression you make when you stare at me?”

You stay silent and her grip around your neck tightens.

“When I ask something, you answer.” Abby says softly and removes her hand from your chest, sliding it down to the side of your hips, carving her short nails into your skin as she moves you to grind against her hard thigh; making you bite your lips as you feel your clothed cunt rub deliciously against the material of her jeans. “Answer me, Y/N.”

“I-I don’t know, Abby…”

“You stare at me with this really pathetic expression on your face,” The lights inside the small compartment die down suddenly before turning back on – And as you look at Abby again, a shit-eating grin appear on her pretty lips.

“The expression of someone who just really wants me to fuck them stupid.” You snake your arms around her neck and she lets go of yours, now hugging your waist as she guides your movements. “Do you want me to fuck you stupid?” Abby whispers in your ear with a rough voice.

“Yes-Yes, Abby. Ple-please.” You ask as you hide your face onto her neck, her pinewood scent filling your nostrils and you moan into her skin. Your hot breath hits against her neck and Abby feels your arousal mark a spot on her pants. A soft blush runs over her soft freckled face and her boxers start to feel heavy by her own wetness.

“Please what, angel?”

“Ple-please fuck me, Abby.” You remove your head from its previous position and forcefully grabs the back of her hair, pulling her face towards yours as your lips smack together. Abby bites and pulls onto your bottom lip and soon her tongue sneaks into your mouth, making the kiss become more heated and sloppy. She hugs your waist tighter. “I want you,” You say in between the kisses. “Jus-just fuck me already, ple-please.”

Abby lets out a moan by hearing your pleas and holds your hips still as she lower her lips to your neck. She nibbles and licks at your skin and you let out heavy breaths and pleasure filled moans. She moves one of her hands to your exposed thigh due your skirt riding up, and she slowly slides it closer and closer to your heat as she caresses your hot skin. Soon enough she cups your pussy through your dripping wet panties, the feeling of her warm hand sends a wave of electricity through your body and you moan her name out.

“I've been wanting to do this all week,” Abby confesses. She slowly drags your panties to the side and runs two fingers up your slick, collecting the liquid of your excitement. “Fuck… You’re so fucking wet for me. So ready for me, baby.” She gives you a quick and soft peck on the lips and suddenly thrusts her ring and middle finger inside your weeping cunt.

“Ah ah ah Abby!” You moan as you feel her fingers filling you. Abby begins to move her fingers in-and-out of you, starting off slow and soon she picks up the pace, pumping them fast and with precision inside you. You rock your hips, following her fingers' pace, causing your clit to deliciously and harshly rub against the palm of her hand. “Fuck Abby,,, you're–ahh fucking me so good…”

Abby lets out a quiet laugh and leans in for another messy kiss, saliva dripping off of both your chins as you make out. She soon fingers into you deeper than before, the tip of her fingers meeting that spongy spot inside you. She presses onto it and you rub your clit harder into her palm. You break the kiss, lips swollen for the biting and sucking.

“I'm gon-gonna cum,”

“I'm here, angel. Cum for me, baby.” Soon something inside you snaps and you feel your body shake as a pleasure washes over you.

“Such a good fucking girl, making a mess all over my hand.” Abby helps you ride out your high, her hand and leg drenched from you as she carefully removes her fingers from your sensitive cunt, letting out a hiccup once you feel empty again. You attempt to catch your breath, chest rising up and down rapidly as you both look at eachother. You hold her hand towards your mouth, cleaning her sticky fingers from your orgasm and she opens a small smile.

“You're so hot,” Abby says giving you one more kiss before removing her leg from in between yours.”So fuckin’ dirty for me.” You kiss her back, pulling at her bottom lip and asking for tongue passage which she happily obliged to. Pushing Abby against the wall, your hands fall to her hips, undoing her white studded belt and letting it fall to the ground. “You're gonna make me feel good, Angel?” She smirks upon seeing a naughty look on your face and you nod.

“Yeah, Abby, I'll make you feel so good…” You kiss her lips and neck one last time before you move towards her breasts and stomach. When you reach her crotch, you shamelessly rub your face against it, causing her to gasp and moan as she forces you onto the floor by your shoulders.

Abby helps you unbutton her pants and you bring them down along with her boxers as you kneel in front of her, the smell of her pussy makes your mouth water. She frees one of her ankles from the clothes, propping her leg over your shoulder and you snake your arm around her tight to keep her secure. She looks down at you, looking like a pretty and desperate little slut just for her. One of her hands goes to the back of your neck, pulling you closer to her glistening lips. You lay your tongue out and you slowly lick her slick bottom to top, reaching her throbbing bud and giving it a harsh suck.

“Uhmm, fuck,” She moans upon the contact, pushing her hips closer to you mouth. “Yeah, just like that, baby.” You finally bury your tongue into her cunt, exploring her as she lets out a string of breathless moans. Abby begins to grind against your face, your soft muscle lapping on her mouthwatering pussy and your nose softly and deliciously brushing against her clit. “Look at me,” She pats your head and you bring your eyes up to her but never stopping fucking your tongue into her. “Lookin’ so beautiful on your knees for me, ahh– s-so so fucking perfect,”

Abby soon feels the tension that sits on the bottom of her stomach is about to explode. Her moves become more messy and rapid as she chases your face. The leg that is up your shoulder starts to shake, the trembling of her body making her to hold onto your free shoulder for support. You notice Abby will soon break and change the focus of your thrust to her needy button, lick and circling your tongue on it and adding two fingers into her.

“D-don't stop, fuckfuckfuc–” Her hips stutter as you scissor your fingers into her, never stopping giving attention to her clit. You feel her pussy gushing around you and she soon releases her juices, making a mess on your hand and face. Abby breaks eye contact as she presses the back of her head onto the wooden wall. She closes her eyes and furrows her brows while coming down from her orgasm. You distance your mouth from her now sensitive clit and gently remove your fingers from her. She drops her leg off of your shoulder and you, still on your knees, move to help her fix her pants and belt.

“No, it’s okay,” Abby moves away from your touch, making you slowly stand back on your feet. “I can do it.” She pushes her black jeans back up and grabs her belt off the floor, quickly wrapping them around the waistband of her jeans. You quietly observe her, hopeful thoughts run around your head, thoughts about you and Abby becoming closer after today – The last day of camp. “So, uhh,” She nervously runs her hand through her blonde strands as her face displays a shameful and regretful expression.

“We should get going, th-the last bonfire will start soon…” You feel as if the ground disappeared, your heart squeezes inside your chest and tears form in your eyes. “Uhm… I'll see you around, yeah?” She quickly exits, leaving you alone in the compartment. You look down at your knees, red and swollen from all the kneeling, and then you look around the small porta wooden potty, your hand palms your face as you take in what just happened. Regret fills you for what you and Abby just did – In a damn porta potty, at church camp nonetheless – and at how easy you gave yourself to her, only to be tossed away just as easily.

ೃ⁀➷ thank you for reading! feel free to comment your thoughts, reblog, leave a heart and follow me˚ ༘♡ ⋆｡˚

x-18 banner by @fic-dumpster

[katsukiizmoon]

Desc: Talkin’ bout Katsuki while you’re pregnant & when you have a daughter

No cause now all I can think about is katsuki with a daughter :( everyone Shutup I’m usually more immune to baby fever but oh god…. >:( katsuki needs to give me a baby girl

I can go into details and I will

Buys a giant wardrobe for her before she’s even born. Has custom made dynamight baby clothes made just for her.

Reads every parenting book known to man and has a binder of development notes!! This man has written down everything from how to cure baby gas to the best learning tools and methods for little ones

Makes freezer prep meals for when you’re post-partum and struggling ! Soup cubes, one pan sheet meals, instant pot dinners, the works. He makes frozen mandu (Korean dumplings) for an easy snack.

SLATHERS you in Shea butter and bio oil throughout your pregnancy, giving you rubs up and down all the time

Begins impulse buying childrens books and toys any time he steps into a store

Your home now has an entire room dedicated to the items he had either BUILT or BOUGHT for your child. Shelves are secured to the wall, filled with every book and pack of flash cards he’s purchased

Lays her down on his chest for quick naps with dragon tales on, humming to soothe her to avoid hics and sniffs from his beloved baby

Calls her “angel” for the longest time but here’s a list of other nicknames he uses: “squirt” , “shithead” , “princess” , “little spark”

Has the baby’s footprints stamped on thick cardstock for every two months she grows, until she hits a year. At a year he begins doing it every 6 months.

Starts teaching her to bake early on, all their favorite treats. They sit afterwards and eat to their hearts content until she inevitably knocks out on his chest watching Disney movies

Let’s her paint his nails as soon as she’s old enough. When she hits an age where it’s appropriate, they begin getting matching pedicures with you every month

Also post partum he spends time fixing you warm baths to soak in and love yourself in, while he holds the little one and makes dinner

Also also when you’re pregnant he literally has a brand new toilet installed to help you so you won’t need a peri bottle as much when you go to the bathroom :(((

Bathroom? Stocked with everything you can imagine. Tiny fridge for your padsicles? Check. Adult diapers? Check. Stool softener? Check. Baby wipes? Check! Anything you need, is stocked to the brim

Makes it mandatory that for the first 7 days of your little one’s life, only you and him will be around the baby. No visitors pressuring you, none of that. He plans the entire week in advance and tries to account for how tired you’ll be. The first thing he tells you to do when you get home is to get some sleep, and you do.

Calls his mom for help when you’re both a little too stressed and has her watch the baby in the play room so the two of you can have an hour nap

Takes you out to different attractions every week and/or has a “mommy day” planned each week to help lessen the chance of post partum depression

I just truly think he’d worship the ground yoj walked on and pave the way for her. He’d tell her how much he loves her every day. I bet he even puts a mild lavender lotion on her before she sleeps to help her rest and relax.

When she’s a newborn and going through the phase of refusing sleep, he gets you in bed and rocks her in the rocking chair until she’s asleep. He also demands the baby SHARE a room with you until she gets to at least 7-8 months. Baby cameras everywhere. Everything is baby proof. If you think it isn’t, it is.

When I die, The first thing I’m doing is having katsuki knock me up so we can live a happy life with a little one.

[dufferpuffer]

Out of every odd Pottermore thing I really like the poop one.

'However, when Hogwarts’ plumbing became more elaborate in the eighteenth century (this was a rare instance of wizards copying Muggles, because hitherto they simply relieved themselves wherever they stood, and vanished the evidence)'

It's so fucking odd and quirky I can't help but love it. What a weird addition nobody asked for... naturally I have headcanons.

Most adults still don't use toilets. They aren't against toilets - it is just more convenient to not have to rush to a separate room. Magic courses through their whole body, including their colon.

Wizarding houses don't typically have a 'toilet' room until they have kids - though it usually takes the form of a hole-in-a-chair sort of thing enchanted to vanish.

Designs of Wizarding 'toilets' are different to the ceramic-bowl-and-plastic-lid of most Muggle toilets, typically more like stools. Easy to shove in a small place. Enchanting a linen closet door to alternate between linen and toilet is common, or just keeping it on a shelf like a potty for the kid.

Toilet use is less embarrassing for magical children in general. They are expected to have more accidents culturally - and their parents vanish on their behalf.

This is because children are awful at controlling their magic. So magical children go through potty training like Muggle children - learning that when they need to go, they go and sit on a toilet.

There is a second 'potty training' that comes later in life when they become good enough at magic. It's not a specific skill they're taught, they just utilize the magic they have learned for it.

It USED to be a specific skill they are taught - because they had to know it before attending Hogwarts. it was many children's first complex form of magic, the struggle to not need your parents to vanish your shit for you before you turned 11.

The first attempts of practicing this skill are daunting. It makes 'shitting your pants' an even more embarrassing accident for magical children - because rather than just a bowel failure, it is also a magical skill failure, a failure of your parents...

Hogwarts put toilets in because it was a genuine quality-of-life improvement Wizarding families were starting to copy - and was familiar to Muggleborns, who had a very difficult adjustment period when attending Hogwarts. Being expected to suddenly be able to control their magic just to not shit themselves... toilets ensured less accidents from those new to magic and those less talented at magic.

Of course, traditionalist families hated this. It was encouraging muggle culture to seep into Wizarding culture when they were SUPPOSED to be separating, it was encouraging families to become lax in their child's magical education, it was lowering the bar of skill for children... for what? To appease a tiny percentage of Muggleborns? 'I made a mess of myself in first year - it is a rite of passage-!'

It became normalized, they were unobtrusive enough that nobody makes a fuss of them anymore - but traditional families still don't engage with them, of course. Parents train their children to vanish their shit - and in the mean-time, vanish it for them.

Am I saying Draco Malfoy spent his childhood literally shitting himself and having his parents clean up after him? YES. Same with the Blacks. Who do yall think vanished their shit first - Sirius or Regulus...? Who had to keep running for Daddy/Mummy/Kreacher because they had an accident? (it was Regulus)

I think James would have had a toilet growing up, his laid-back parents liking oddities like that. Lily would have INSISTED on a toilet, as Muggleborns often do.

The Weasleys have a 'proper' muggle bathroom, with a 1970s toilet that Arthur INSISTED had to flush as if they had plumbing.

Severus grew up in a two-up-two-down, so his toilet was outside and shared with all the neighbours. He doesn't hate toilets or anything, sometimes it was a good excuse to get out of the house and have quiet for a moment, but he was eager to learn how to avoid using it like a proper Wizard. His mother taught him.

Public Wizarding buildings still don't usually have toilets. Parents are expected to vanish their children's messes.

The major exception of this is pubs, taverns and inns. You do not want to rely on drunk Wizards having magical control and the barkeep doesn't want to have to vanish everyone's fluids all night, scourgify the tabletops and seats... Having to use it is a mildly-embarrassing sign of you being too drunk, something the pub might cheer and laugh about.

Hogwarts Toilets flush - when most Wizarding toilets don't bother, being vanishing drop-toilets - as a safety feature. Students try to Vanish all sorts of problems away, to the pipes are enchanted to work out what is being flushed and kick back foreign objects while accepting waste, with significant retrieval systems for... say, a transfigured student that might get flushed. That is more difficult in a smaller space like a small drop toilet.

[breedable-heath]

David Blane teaches high school English. He’s been planning to start a family for ten years. Knowing that his students would relentlessly make fun of him for being pregnant, he planned his pregnancy so his due date would land in August, and he would start the school year on paternity leave. That way his pregnant belly balloons during summer vacation when he doesn’t have to work.

Being hyperfertile, getting pregnant wasn’t the problem. In fact, his husband was able to bury twins deep into his womb.

Mr. Blane enjoyed his summer off keeping cool indoors where the shame of his massive belly won’t haunt him. His husband pampered him with ice cream, belly rubs, and plenty of good fucking.

Mr. Blane’s problem is that it’s Labor Day. School starts tomorrow, and he is 42 weeks pregnant with twins.

The first day of school has record-high temperatures, and the district hasn’t turned the AC on in their buildings yet. Mr. Blane has the windows open and three fans blowing. The burden of passing out classroom expectations and tactifully weaving his massive belly between desks leaves him with V-shaped sweat stains soaking through his polo.

He learns that lecturing for ten minutes while this pregnant leaves him breathless. Between classes he has to relieve himself since two babies press down on his bladder. He waddles slowly between the stinky mass of adolescents into the nearest staff bathroom. Every time he is late back to class because getting off the toilet takes a whole minute.

By seventh hour, Mr. Blane is sore, hot, aching, sweaty, and just plain miserable. The students are excited to go home by this time of day and are more energetic and outspoken while Mr. Blane is about to send someone to the office for clicking their pen.

“Damn, Mr. B, you put on weight over the summer. That’s a whole new type of beer belly.”

“Firstly, watch your language.” The student mutters an apology. “Secondly, I don’t want to talk about it during class time. We have a lot to get through today, and we’re already behind.”

“But it’s the first day of school,” a second student remarks.

Mr. Blane gets ready to explain the rigorous course structure that comes with reduces class times and more standards to teach, but instead he feels a dropping in his torso. His belly tightens and pain shoots through him.

“Holy shit, did you see that? His beer belly moved,” a student whispered to a friend. Mr. Blane’s eyes are closed so he can’t tell who said it and he can’t punish them.

Hands spread across his desk, three droplets of sweat fall down as he breaths deep. His stomach hangs incredibly low. Stretching like this he can feel cool air touching his lower belly. His shirt must’ve separated from his pants. He straightens himself up and pushes his shirt down. He doesn’t know that it slowly rides up anyways.

His students can see the dark line down the center of his rock-hard belly. They can see his naval poking through his polo. By god, it’s obvious now.

“There’s more to do this year than in previous years. There will be lots of homework. If you have a problem with it, take it up with the school board,” he explains while trying to maintain a steady breath.

“Back to our syllabus.” Mr. Blane tries to stand next to the board and point at all the highlighted parts of classroom expectations, but his back aches so terribly. Several times he had to remove his hand from his back in an effort to look not pregnant. Finally, he decides to stop subjecting himself to suffering and Mr. Blane teaches the remainder of the class from his swivel chair because his back and feet hurt so badly. The students don’t mind and don’t ask why.

His belly hangs between his legs and he is forced to lean back in his chair. Mr. Blane is more baby than he is adult. He uses his feet to inch himself around the front of the classroom during their brief work time.

The bell rings for dismissal, and Mr. Blane shouts over their sudden chatter to turn in their writing samples on their way out. The class empties, and with fewer bodies in the room it feels more cool. Mr. Blane wheels his swivel chair in front of a fan and he slowly rubs his belly.

Another strike of pain hits him then, and he takes deep breaths. There’s a knock on the door. It is Mrs. Katy Sampson, his next door neighbor and the peer that is platonically dubbed his ‘work wife.’

“One of your kids dropped by and told me that you pissed yourself in the middle of class and kept teaching. He said he had ‘mad respect’ for you.”

“I didn’t piss myself,” David snaps. He just wants to be alone and deal in his quiet classroom.

“No, you didn’t,” she says as she calmly walks behind his desk to gather his bag. She opens her phone and sends a quick text. “Your water broke, David.”

“What?” He leans forward as if he’d be able to see his own crotch, but can’t. Instead he sends a hand down there and he feels the wetness in his pants.

Katy steps behind him and starts pushing the swivel chair. “I already texted your honey for you. He’s going to meet us at the hospital.” Her voice is calm and cool.

“Us?”

“You’re not driving.”

“Like hell I’m—” he’s cut off by another surge of pain. His hands grip his belly. His arms and legs are all coated in sweat. He groans in pain.

Katy pushes him down the hall while he works through the long contraction. “Eeeeexactly,” she says in a sing-song voice, “I’m driving.”

[jae-bummer]

Good Hair Day

Request: For your request prompts, would you please do a Soulmate AU with Hoshi from Seventeen? I don’t find very many fluffy, happy Hoshi stories. That man has such beautiful eyes and I LOVE when he has plushy cheeks! It makes me want to give him a kiss and a cuddle. I was also very impressed with his humble attitude and manners when he was on Suga’s Suchwita episode. Sorry for rambling and thanks in advance. 😋

Prompt:

11) Soulmate AU

If you dye your hair, your soulmate's hair color changes as well.

Pairing: Seventeen Hoshi x Reader

Genre: Fluff

.

It was only 6 AM when Hoshi was forced to roll out of bed for his schedule. Rubbing the sleep out of his eyes, he eased himself from his warm blankets and made his way toward the bathroom.

"Nice hair," Coups laughed, emerging into the hallway at the same time Hoshi stepped from his room.

Headed in the opposite direction, Hoshi stumbled into the older member and grumbled a sleepy "shut up."

So what if his morning hair was a nightmare? That was the case for almost every single one of the guys in this group (Seungcheol included). All he had to do was throw on a hoodie and patiently wait for his turn in the stylist's chair.

Shouldering his way into the bathroom, Hoshi stood before the sink and groaned.

Not again.

Blinking hazily at his own reflection, he plopped his forehead against the cool surface. Out of all days, why did his soulmate pick TODAY to go cotton candy pink?

..

"Seize the day!" you cackled, smoothing on another layer of hair dye.

"You are unhinged," your best friend, Ash, laughed from her spot on the toilet lid. "And I kind of like it."

"This person," you continued slowly. "Has been dying their hair nearly every other month since I've known them."

"Well, you don't know them," Ash interrupted. "But go on."

"Oh, I know them alright," you muttered.

For what had been the better part of the last ten years, your hair color had changed as often as the weather. You were responsible for approximately two of those changes, and they were both out of necessity. Job interviews were a mandatory life occasion, and your soulmate would have to get over having brown hair for a few months. Mint green would not be getting either of you hired anytime soon.

Which made you wonder, what exactly did your soulmate do for a living? How did they get away with having such vibrant fashion colors in everyday life? Why did your soulmate seem to have the biggest commitment issues with something as simple as hair?

"I'm only giving them a taste of their own medicine," you sighed, finally setting down the tinting brush. Examining your work, you nodded in satisfaction. "Let's see how their boss reacts to this when they wake up tomorrow."

"Maybe they're a hairdresser?" Ash theorized as she watched your slow decent into madness. "Oooh, or maybe a clown for children's parties?"

"A clown?" you cringed. "I like your enthusiasm, but could we go for something more..."

"Aspirational?" she laughed. "Sure, Y/N. Maybe they're a famous musician and after you meet them, you won't have to worry about anything besides ugly hair colors ever again."

"If they were famous, I would have clocked them by now," you grumbled. "I haven't seen Harry Styles walking around with fire engine red hair."

"You haven't seen Harry Styles walking around in general," Ash laughed. "Give yourself, and your soulmate, the benefit of the doubt."

...

"I need an adult!" Hoshi screeched across the dorm. The sun had hardly risen, and he was already launching into panic mode. "Like an adultier adult! Someone who has a much better handle on adult life and adult problems!"

"It doesn't take much," Jeonghan croaked. Collapsing onto the couch, he rubbed at his eyes before glancing up at the pacing Hoshi. "Holy shit, have you ever seen the Trolls movie? Because your head-"

Hoshi stopped his pacing and pointed an accusatory finger at his member. "I am very sensitive right now. Choose your words carefully."

Jeonghan leveled a stare in his direction. "Fine. If I don't have something nice to say, I won't say anything at all."

"Well, we both know that's a lie," Hoshi muttered as he went back to pacing. "What do I do? How do I fix this?"

"Alright first, I need you to calm down," Jeonghan nodded. "Second, I'd like you to make me a cup of coffee."

Throwing a dirty look over his shoulder, Hoshi continued to stomp back and forth.

"Fine," Jeonghan groaned. "Get me my wallet."

"Why am I going to get your wallet?" Hoshi argued. "What is your wallet going to do for the disaster on my head? We have a shoot today and the concept is going to be ruined and it's going to be all my-"

"If you stopped to take a breath," Jeonghan interrupted. "I would tell you that I have a business card inside said wallet. On that business card is the information for a very talented hairdresser who takes hair emergencies very seriously."

Dropping to his knees, Hoshi clasped his hands together. "You are not the hero I deserve, but a hero nonetheless."

"I'm pretty sure that's not how the quote goes, and I'm mildly offended for some reason?" Jeonghan said, narrowing his eyes.

Already up and rummaging through Jeonghan's wallet, Hoshi yanked out the business card. "I owe you one."

"I'll take that one and use it for a coffee," Jeonghan nodded. "The hair can wait."

....

Strolling down the street, you felt a new sense of freedom wash over you. Your hair had been nearly every color under the rainbow (including the pink you were currently rocking) but nothing had ever felt as good as this. It wasn't as if you had something against your soulmate, it was quite the opposite. You were excited to meet them, whoever they were, but you also wanted them to be surprised by you for once.

Humming to yourself, you decided at the last minute to veer toward a cafe you spotted across the road. For such an adventurous new day, you deserved a little treat.

Just as you began to step off the sidewalk, someone walking in the opposite direction slammed into you.

"Hey!" you yelled, tumbling away from your assailant.

"Shit!" the stranger gasped, immediately leaning down to help you up from the sidewalk. "I was so distracted; I didn't see you coming. I'm so-"

Furrowing your brows, you looked up at the man who was now leaning over you. He was extremely handsome, albeit dressed oddly for the warm spring weather. He wore a black hoodie with the drawstrings pulled as tightly as possible around his angular face. You studied his features for a moment, trying to figure out exactly what was familiar about him.

As your eyes met, he paused and had suddenly gone still. No longer focused on helping you up, it looked as if his mind had gone somewhere a million miles away.

"Uh, hello?" you asked, waving your hand in front of his face. "Random stranger? Helping me off the ground? Did you glitch?"

"Your hair," he chirped. "When did you dye it?"

You could only blink in response as his question sank into you.

"Look man," you said, finally finding your voice. With a few grumbles, you pushed yourself to your feet again and stared down the man who was acting much too odd for your liking. "I'm not sure what your problem is, but-"

Wordlessly, he continued to stare at you as he pulled down the tightened hood of his jacket.

Pink. So pink.

"I'm Hoshi," he said dumbly, a nervous smile playing across his lips. "And I think I need to sit down because I might pass out."

After a short discussion verifying when you had actually dyed your hair and a longer discussion based around your hair history, it was pretty much confirmed. It had taken a decade, but you had finally found each other.

"I never thought this day would happen," you admitted. You felt lightheaded and damn near giddy. It didn't matter if the two of you looked like bright pink idiots in the middle of the street. You had each other now.

"Me either," Hoshi breathed with equal amounts of shock. Seeming to come a bit more to his senses, a little crease formed between his brows. "Do you want to come with me?"

"Uh," you croaked, looking up at him in dismay. You still didn't really know him and didn't necessarily like how open ended his question was.

Shaking his head as if to correct himself, he smiled. "To the hairdresser. Do you want to come with me to the hairdresser?"

"The pink just not doing it for you?" you grinned.

Reaching up, Hoshi tugged playfully at one of your strands. "While I like the color," he nodded. "Very much. Like so much-"

"You don't have to explain!" you laughed. "I get it."

"No really, I love it. If I could be this color pink for the rest of my life-"

"Hoshi," you laughed, placing your hand in the air between the two of you.

"Okay, I have a semi-important work thing today and I need black hair," he smiled sheepishly. "Would you...maybe want to come with me?"

You pretended to think for a moment before nodding. "Of course I would."

"Great! I mean, totally, yeah," Hoshi stumbled awkwardly. "It's only a few blocks away, if you don't mind."

Watching Hoshi be so pleasantly overwhelmed warmed something inside of you. Nodding confidently to himself, he slid his palm into yours and laced your fingers together. "I'm holding my soulmate's hand."

"As am I," you confirmed, trying to ignore the heat rising up your neck.

"And now I'm walking with my soulmate to change OUR hair," he grinned. Glancing at you from his periphery, you could tell how your happiness egged him on. "Did you catch that, Y/N? We're going together to change our hair."

"I caught it, Hoshi," you laughed.

"And we get to do this forever," he said quietly, chancing a look your way. "Isn't that the coolest?"

"I honestly could not think of anything cooler."