#Apartment maintenance package

[guhhhhhhhhhhh]

I am going to make it thru this week even if it kills me I am GOING TO MAKE IT THROUGH THIS WEEK REALLY IM going to make it through this week

[osylot]

Accidentally moved into an apartment that is not only the same complex, not only the same building, but the same FLOOR as a coworker of mine and now I'm even getting his MAIL

[stonedstr8]

TOKE 'N STROKE

"Ads are getting so damn invasive." Lucas thought to himself, clicking skip on yet another pointless car commercial interrupting the video essay he was watching. "You think the algorithm would know its audience by now, I'm too gay to drive!"

He laughed a little bit at the joke, running a hand through his soft, bleached blonde hair. He was the epitome of a high-maintenance twink, with his smooth, hairless body and perfect sense of style. He was smart too and liked to boast about it, with a scholarship for his English Lit degree and being made President of his university's LGBT Chapter, which he was hoping to use as a stepping stone to become Student Body President next year.

Leaning back again in his chair he reached for his cellphone, seeing a text from his boyfriend Alex.

Alex: "Hey cutie, still busy with finals this weekend, but have time for a dinner date Sunday night?"

He smiled to himself, giving an eager text back to set it up, and to wish him well on his upcoming exams. "Ugh, I need to start studying too, Monday's going to be one hell of a final... I'll focus on it and head to the library after this video and-"

Just like that, his train of thought was interrupted again by a stupid ad, this time some obnoxious psychedelic visuals and a bad electric guitar riff blared out of his monitor. It startled him so badly that he seized up for a second, accidentally clicking the ad and being brought to their store page. "Broski's Bud's, one stop ship and shop for weed strains to fix your brain..." He rolled his eyes at the cringe marketing, getting ready to close the tab when a pop-up opened trying to tell him all about a deal he 'wouldn't want to miss out on'. "No thanks, stupid site, you can keep your Bro Buds or whatever to yourself." but every time he hit X on the popup another would open, being more and more insistent each time about new deals, until finally a desperate '90% OFF AND SPECIAL STARTER KIT AS A BONUS WITH YOUR FIRST PURCHASE' filled his screen. "FINE," he scoffed at his computer, "I'll take a look at the stupid site. My therapist suggested I try out weed to help lessen my anxiety anyways, so might as well get a good deal on it..."

Clicking the pop-up added the 'starter kit' to his cart, it was a pack of pre-rolled blunts and some sort of mystery box, but the description didn't help him understand it much either. "Get ready to step into the zone and open ur mind with this one bros, Broski's Buds bestselling strain, Toke 'n Stroke, is sure to change your life by stimulating a high never felt before! This isn't your sissy uncle's strain, this shit puts hair on your chest like a real man!"

"God this is so cringe, I bet they get all kinds of business marketing to the dumb jocks in town, no wonder their brains are mush. Still, it's just weed and for $20 I might as well give it a try, I probably won't find it cheaper anywhere else..." sitting in thought about it for a few seconds, Lucas finally filled in his payment info and placed his order, getting a free upgrade to same-day delivery since they seem to have a storefront a few miles from his apartment.

"Well, there goes my library plans I guess, I'll have to wait around for delivery since my package will probably get swiped otherwise..." Lucas sighed, turning off his computer and plopping down onto the couch, picking up his Switch to play Animal Crossing and kill time.

A few hours passed and the sky got dark before finally a long buzz came from his intercom. "Took them long enough, it's nearly 9pm!" he complained, putting his jacket on to head downstairs. When he got down there the delivery guy had already gotten into his car again, driving away and leaving Lucas to carry the package back upstairs all on his own. It was bigger than he expected, taking both hands to lift it and keep it stable. "Jesus, this thing must weight like 40 pounds! What did they put in here?"

After a bit of struggling and the occasional break to catch his breath, Lucas pushed his package into the living room, collapsing on the floor next to it for a while. "After that workout I'm surprised I don't look like the douchebags around campus." he laughed to himself, bouncing up to get a box cutter and pry his package open. After taking the carton of pre-rolled blunts out, he started into the box with a bit of confusion and disgust, pulling things out one after the other.

"A sleeveless tank top that says 'Toke 'n Stroke Bro'... A pair of douchey sunglasses... Some red gym shorts, socks and slides... Ew, a snapback saying 'Who ate all the pussy?', why the fuck would anyone wear this!... And 2 dumbbells, no wonder this thing was so heavy! All of this is useless shit that's gonna end up in a donation bin now, I'll have to drop this trashy stuff off tomorrow on my way to the library... But hey, at least the weed seems fine, smells... potent." He said, tossing everything back into the box and taking a whiff of one of the blunts.

Kicking back on the couch again, he played with the blunt in his hand for a while before finally having the courage to light it up, taking a hit. Immediately he started coughing, not used to the sensation, but it did make his brain start to feel... fuzzy. "Damn, okay I need to push past it and get used to it." he said, lighting up for another hit of the blunt, this time barely a cough escaping his throat, feeling suspiciously more used to it. Then another, and another, until finally the whole blunt was gone. Sitting in his daze for a while, he enjoyed the sensation of his mind drifting around experiencing the high, his anxiety melting away as if he didn't have a care in the world. Eventually he decided to try and get up, but his body slumped over off the couch and hitting the floor, the room fading to black...

...

When Lucas finally came to again, the first thing that hit him was the strong smell of weed floating around in the air. "Damn bro, did I smoke the whole set or what..." he laughed groggily, getting ready to stretch out and get back to laying on the couch before he was startled by the sound of moaning blasting from his TV, eyes shooting open in confusion. On the screen, two busty lesbians were making out, them taking turns groping each others boobs and fingering each other. "What the fuck bro, how long has this been on?" he cursed, nervous that the neighbors nextdoor might have heard it playing as he started desperately looking for the remote.

When he couldn't find it in the cushions, he got up from the couch only to be met with his feet kicking a bunch of empty beer cans. "Dude, there's gotta be 2 dozen thrown all over the floor, did I have a party or something? I don't even know anyone who drinks beer..." he mumbled, going to scratch his head in confusion, but was even more confused when instead of his hair he felt a hat on top of his head. "Huh?" he thought, as he looked down at the floor again, noticing that instead of his skinny jeans and converse he was now wearing the socks and slides from the box, along with the sleeveless tank top and the shorts too. He stumbled his way to the bathroom door still baked out of his mind, mouth dropping open at his reflection in the full-length mirror in front of him.

"Broooo, am I dreaming or what the fuckkkk is going on" he said in disbelief. No more was the cute, pale twink he used to be staring back at him. Instead, a douchey bro he didn't recognize was standing face to face with him. Tanned skin, pillowy muscles, his once blonde hair turned into a brown buzz cut and with that stupid "Who ate all the pussy?" hat slapped over it. He touched his face, feeling along his chin where his once smooth skin now had a rougher texture, and a trashy chinstrap sprouted from his jawline. He slapped his face a few times in his daze, trying to wake up from the dream and growing more confused each time nothing changed.

Turning around and staggering back to his living room to try and make sense of what's going on, it hit him that he barely recognizes the room anymore. His apartment used to be perfectly maintained and well-decorated, now there was beer cans all over the floor, along with dirty socks and cummed-in underwear, greasy pizza boxes and chip bags all over the table and counter, the decorations on his walls had been torn down and replaced with posters of chicks in bikinis and sports teams, his Switch replaced with an X-Box and a stack of COD games next to it, DVD cases of trashy bro-comedies were thrown around near the TV too... Then the smell hit him, it STUNK in here, like a sickening mixture of weed, cheap body spray, and sour BO wafting in a heat around the room. "Bro, it fucking reeks in here... Or wait..." he mumbled as he gave himself a whiff, "I fucking reek!"

After a bit of stunned silence he finally started to process things in his brain again. How the fuck did he get like this, was any of this even real, and how does he get back to normal? He plopped back onto the couch, picking up his phone to see he had a handful of missed texts and calls from his boyfriend before noticing the time... 2:00pm. On Sunday. He had somehow been blacked out for 2 whole nights, with no memory of anything that had happened. While getting ready to call his boyfriend back, Lucas felt his insides rumbling and at first he thought it was from the munchies because of all the weed, but then he realized "Oh bro, all that double-cheese pizza is really gonna fucking..."

*PHRRRBBBTTT!*

His body instinctively lifted its leg as it pushed out the loudest and most obnoxious fart he'd ever ripped in his life, as his body seemed to react on its own, letting out an immature laugh and wafting the air before muttering "Fuck yeah bro, smells like victory!" He leaned back into the couch, remembering he needed to call Alex, but the loud moaning on the TV caught him off guard again. This time he locked eyes with the screen, the cock in his shorts immediately bulging and straining at the sight of the lesbian porn before him. "I really need to turn this shit off and get whatever's going on sorted out..." he thought, but he realized he couldn't move his hand to reach for his phone, instead it reacted on its own, reaching down his waistband to pull out his cock and start stroking for the busty babes on TV.

"All I do is Toke 'n Stroke, bro..." a voice in his head seemed to say, except it didn't come from within, he spoke it directly out of his own mouth.

"Wait, I didn't say that bro, it's-" he tried to talk, realizing that his thoughts echoed around stuck in his own head, not even leaving the lips of his own body. He was just stuck there, watching in a dazed horror as he went on autopilot.

"Toke 'n Stroke bro, I'm such a loyal customer Broski's Buds will HAVE to take me as a hype boy this time haha!" his voice spoke again, continuing to stroke for the porn on TV, Lucas's eyes stuck fixed on the screen. Suddenly though, he was interrupted by his phone vibrating, a text from his boyfriend coming through.

Alex: "Hey cutie, I hope everything is alright? You haven't answered my calls or texts in a couple days, I know it's busy with all your studying but we do still have dinner planned for tonight. Still on for me to pick you up at 5?"

"Oh thank God," Lucas thought, reading the message, "I can tell him what's going on and have him come over to help me fix this shit!" Unlocking his phone, Lucas let out a sigh of relief as he got ready to reply, only for his body to still be taken over by whatever douchey daze it was stuck in.

Lucas: "dont u ever come around me u faggy creep, if me or my bros ever catch u within 100 feet of us we'll give u the beating of a lifetime! fuck around n find out if u dare to show ur face here."

Lucas screamed internally as the message was typed out and sent in front of his very eyes, before his hand moved to block his boyfriend's number and turn his phone off. "Something is seriously fucking wrong with me bro, I need to-"

*PHHRRRRBBBTTTTTT*

Another obnoxious and sickening fart blasted out of his ass, filling the room and breaking Lucas's thoughts down into a daze again, as he felt around under the couch for something before pulling a sweaty, well-used fuck toy of a girls ass and pussy up from the mess.

As Lucas once again locked eyes with the TV, he took another hit from his dwindling blunt stash, finishing up the last one. After throwing what was left onto the floor, he prepared the fuck toy and slid it right down onto his cock, starting to bounce the toy up and down as he edged himself closer to finishing.

"If I can't figure out a way to snap out of this, I'm so fucked..." he thought, as his voice spoke again. "Toke 'n Stroke bro, this chick is soooo getting fucked!" He moaned, as he shot his thick load into the toy, feeling some of his braincells permanently shoot out with it, sloppily wiping the mess on the cushion next to him as he laid back, feeling his insides start to bubble again.

Lucas had a lot of Bro Time to catch up on, but luckily his new favorite weed strain was making sure that he was a captive audience until he was fully converted and assimilated into just another Bro.

[glossykissies]

thinking about what reader i’d pair with soldier boy and it only feels right he gets handed spoiledbrat!reader. bratty, high maintenance, pouty. soldier boy might’ve been a god-like supe with damn near all the power in the world, but at the end of the day he was also a man… and you were packaged to him like a god damn fantasy.

it was so conflicting to him, you were simultaneously everything that got him off in a woman all while challenging his beliefs. feminine, soft, supple, pink and glittering — sure, but also you had the craziest attitude, you swore like a sailor and you were demanding. it made his fists clench, and dick swell.

the first time he’d been introduced to you with the boys, having found yourself wrapped up in their world — you were the only one in the room who he detected not an ounce of fear from. you. the little thing in the corner leaning on her hip, more interested in her nail bed than the banished supe.

immediately, and much to butchers irritation (he was pushed for time, and trying to stay on track here.) soldier boy focused his attention on you, taking a draw of his cigar from the couch in the hide-out apartment.

“and who’s this pretty little poodle? you fellas let a fan tag along?” his voice is smooth and rumbly like wheels on gravel and you raise a perfectly plucked brow.

“please.”

he hums out a chuckle, not hiding the way his eyes drag up and down your body. he was used to just taking what he wanted, his time being one of those things.

“so if we could just—” hughie steps forward cautiously, attempting to regain the supes attention to get things back on track but is immediately silenced by soldiers boy lifting a hand, eyes still on you.

“no really. what’s the deal with strip-club-barbie? i have met all of you cock suckers but she’s new. if she’s not a welcome gift, what the fuck is she doing in here listening in?”

“shes one of us.” butcher gruffs, shuffling in his chair, antsy to start explaining his diabolical plans.

“yeah? what’s her thing? you fellas passin’ her around in whatever fuck-dungeon you hole up in?” he teases, and before anyone can say anything — you’re defending yourself.

“jesus christ, get with the fucking times, old man.”

soldier boy smirks, and a tense silence falls over the room — half expecting to watch you get thrown through the thin walls of the apartment at record breaking speed. surprisingly, after he’d taken an amused and analytical gaze your way — he leisurely turned his attention back to butcher. “alright, out with this plan. don’t have all day.” he drawls, taking another drag. you roll your eyes at the fact he literally has nothing else to do, and you’re sure he notices.

most of your interactions went that way after that. soldier boy would make some kind of demeaning or misogynistic comment, you’d snap back, he’d either be amused or weakly threaten you. it was like clock work, but seem to put everyone on edge every single time.

there were many times the boys thought you were done for, hurling names and insults at him when he’d caused them more harm than good — only to have him stroll right past you, uninterested in your girly tantrum and not even struggling to totally ignore you. sometimes you would irritate him, only to get a “brats like you need to be put in their place. i’m warning you.” and maybe he’d smirk because he could just sense your little clit twitching.

there was even a time all of you had to pile into one car, getting away quickly after a mission gone south. you were the last in, and there were no seats left for you.

“just fuckin’ get in would ya?” billy commanded loudly, trying to keep an eye on the oncoming commotion. soldier boy smirks, completely suited up, damn near taking up two seats in the backseat and pats his thigh, spreading his legs.

“i am not sitting on him. someone get in the trunk.” you argue, crossing your arms all spoilt.

“just grab her!” hughie exasperates from the passenger seat, used to your ways. without hesitation, soldier boy yanks you into the car with ungodly strength, pulling the door shut as they drive off. you wriggle and fight until he’s got you situated — the mountain of a bulge pressed up against your panties beneath your skirt, legs spread a little on his lap.

you give him a sulky look over your shoulder, and despite the chaos in the front of the car — he’s utterly relaxed and unbothered by everything that just unfolded. in fact, he leans back with that same smirk — adjusting his hips, nudging the fat lips of your pussy open through your panties with his bulge. he watches your eyes nearly roll back like a baby-doll.

you turn back to the front, irritated and overstimulated, breathing all heavy and mad. never in all his years has he seen a woman fight against her urges like you were. he puts his hands on your hips and you dig your nails into his skin, sustaining no damage. you scratch harder, tearing and attacking him like a baby kitten and he gazes happily out the window, unmoved.

you try to chime into the conversation up front, try to stay tuned — but everytime butcher carelessly flies over a speed bump you’re being practically forcefully dry fucked by the supe. you’re sure he could even feel you leaving a wet patch — and surprisingly, when you all pile out the vehicle solider boy doesn’t bring it up. the gratification of flustering you enough to keep him happy.

the breaking point comes when you’re appointed to ‘babysit’ him back at the hiding apartment. literally no one else is free, but they need someone there to make sure he’s where he needs to be. there’s nothing you could do to stop him from leaving, but whilst he agreed to stay there — you were sticking around to make sure he keeps his word, strictly told to alert one of the boys if he exits.

“look, i’m sorry. i would take your place but i have to help annie.” hughie stresses apologetically as they walk you up to the building.

“i’ll be fine.” you roll your eyes, more irritated that you were missing your nail appointment for this shit.

“and keep that mouth in check, yeah? i don’t fancy scraping your intestines off the walls so keep a lid on it today.” butcher warns, sending you a look before you run off.

when you walk in, he’s chowing down on a burger. so american.

“well if it isn’t my favourite.” he drawls, more interested in the TV.

“whatever. i’m here to babysit you.” you sark, setting down your purse and rifling through it for your phone charger, spotting the pink wire tangled at the bottom of your bag.

“babysittin’ huh? you certainly had the sitting part down last time i saw you. maybe today we can work on the baby part.” he chuckles at his own joke, bringing the mouth of his beer bottle to his lips.

“shutup. you know i had no choice.” you don’t know why you get so defensive, strutting over to block his view of the television — staring down at the hulk of the man resting with his feet up.

“that why i could feel your little pussy throbbing? beggin’ me to help her out? christ, maybe if you got some dick you’d quit bitching all the time.”

maybe he was right.

it’s how you end up blubbering on your back with the backs of your knees in his huge hands.

“shit, maybe i’ve been missin’ a trick with this young pussy stuff. fuckin’ perfect.” his heavy cock brushes your folds as he stretches your legs up into a humiliating pose, not caring for your sniffles and angry pouts. he pushes your knees up higher with an intrigued smirk. “you’re flexible, huh? what, were you a cheerleader in high school or something?”

“are you gonna fuck me or what?” you whine, so needy and petulant that it makes him smile.

“you modern girls. no patience.” he slaps his cock on your folds and you flinch. “relax. only polite to knock before i enter, right?”

[onelittlespiral]

Hey hi! I've heard you've got some kind of offer or sale going on, not too sure what its about but I'd like to buy your services. My best friend is a bit of ladiesman jock type and he keeps complaining he can't find a good relationship. So I wanted to know if you could maybe turn him into less ladiesman and more men's man, maybe daddying him up a bit? So i could maybe get a chance with him, and he'd get the relationship he wants.

Subject: Order #100714

Dear Dopple,

Thank you for your recent purchase from The Spiral, home for all your transformation needs! Your order #100714 has been received and is on its way as we speak. Your order includes:

(1) Daddy_From_Friend(Best;Jock)

(1) Mystery(Self)

Expect delivery in 3-5 days. Please note that joint delivery is expected.

Sincerely,

The Spiral

We knew you’d come around and round and round and round…

It was only a few days later when you heard another notification come through from The Spiral. At the same time, you hear a knock at the door. You were glad for the interruption. It was nice to head over to your friends’s apartment and hang out for the weekend. But if you had to listen to him complain again about how tough the dating market was for a white, straight, good looking guy like him you were going to scream. Glancing at the notification for a package delivery to this address, you realize that it is probably about time for the show to begin. No need to interrupt the process. You dart into the restroom as you hear him pick up the package. As you close the door, a rip is heard outside, and as you lock it, a faint poof is heard. A faint fog creeps under the door crack. It smells like fresh grass and sandalwood. Another notification comes through, as The Spiral provides you with product details:

Due to selected target changes, we have elected for our rapid delivery transformation system to best meet your needs. Upon receipt, subject will open box and full product delivery will commence. A dense cloud of product will be released directly onto target and rapidly absorbed. Your friend will age to around 35, with associated physical changes. His previously smooth, young body will change rapidly. Skin is expected to tan, hairline recede, muscles grow, and body and facial hair develop. As the product is breathed in, expect tastes to change. Your new friend will prefer whiskey and beer drinks, along with the occasional cigar. As mental changes set in, they will find themselves drawn to care and maintenance hobbies, like regular workouts, yard work, renovations, cars, and sports. He will be drawn to jeans and beat up tennis shoes or boots, and only prefer to wear a polo when they must go into the office. At the same time, his mind will be filled with images of men. Men staring at him. Men holding onto him. Men worshiping him. This will start the final change, a libido adjustment. He will feel a deep need to fuck, to control his partners, and leave his seed planted deep inside them. The added girth and heavy sack will ensure he never underperforms. As he adjusts and embraces his new personality, he will settle and seek a single partner to fulfill his needs.

Thank you again for choosing The Spiral

You finish reading and unlock the bathroom door, running from the upstairs bedroom through your friend’s spacious house to meet him on the porch.

He is standing on the porch, a box still in hand, just as described. You didn’t know he could be more handsome, but he has aged like a fine wine. He takes one look at you and simply holds out the package in his hand,

“It’s for you.”

For you? You check the label and he is correct. You grab the box and he crosses his arms, waiting. Unsure what is inside, you open the package.

“Ah, good. Been waiting for these,” he snatches it from your hands and inspects the well-worn frames. You try to turn away, but he catches you in his arms,

“This should make you behave.” He takes the sunglasses and sticks them on your face. In an instant, the world is dark. And then a pair of screens flicker to life. As spiral fills your vision, you try to take them off. But your friend is holding you tight. You can’t resist it’s allure for long. It’s right. You do feel so sleepy. As it counts down from ten, your body begins to sway and relax. But you can’t bring yourself to mind. The spiral knows best. You fade away, held in the warm embrace of release and the strong arms of a man…

You come to laying in a bed that feels familiar and foreign all at once. You scratch at your beard and inspect the scene. Lube is left open on the bedside table. Tank tops, jeans, and boxers are strewn over the floor. A pillow is still wedged under you. Heh, still got it. You wander downstairs as you stretch your muscles and rub some sore muscles from the night before. You find him in the kitchen preparing some eggs. Your love. Your master. Your beast in the sheets. You sneak up behind and wrap your arms around his waist.

“Stop, you’ll make me burn them.”

You don’t listen. You plant a kiss on his cheek. He turns around, spatula in hand, and smacks your ass.

“Act your age, boy.”

Something in that statement hits a trigger. You remember something. A younger body. Slender, taut, pale. A firmer mind. Less corruptible, less controlled. Then, you feel an arm around you.

“You okay, cuz you look faint. Don’t break a hip old man.”

You stare at your husband and the world comes into focus. He smirks and gives you a little growl, and you swoon a little in his arms,

“Give daddy a kiss,” he commands.

You lean forward, pressing your hairy chest against his, and love on your husbear.

“I’m going to finish these eggs. Go set the table and look cute,” he says with a wink. You walk off, dizzy for a new reason. You ignore the buzz in your pocket as you get ready for breakfast.

Subject: Order #100714 Fulfilled

Dear Dopple,

Your order has been fulfilled. We know you have many options, but thank you for supporting The Spiral.

Sincerely,

The Spiral

[n0tamused]

hi!! i saw that your requests are open so i just wanted to ask if you could write fluffy relationship headcanons of mortefi and aalto with a gn!reader in mind? these two are just so lajdxhanflvksjahsbxjs i really like them a lot <3 (which is why mortefi pls come home pspspspsspsps)

also, i really love your writing!! it induces serotonin and dopamine in me bc 1) characters feel really accurate, 2) the flow and how you write each scene is so smooth and beautifully descriptive, and 3) dialogue feels realistic and natural!! anyways, have a good day!!

A/N: First Aalto request-! Your wish is my command, anon! And thank you so much for your sweet words, they really made my day and reassured me with my writing :) I do hope this can make you happy too, enjoy! <3 And you have a good day too!<3

Aalto:

-Let me say this first- this man has energy for both of you and Encore, he is extroverted so you can rest assured that if you’re not in the mood for much talking that he has you covered. Don’t want to talk to someone? He is talking for you. Don’t feel like running to the store to buy something? He is already getting his boots on. 

-Despite having the energy of being too open, discretion flows through his blood and he would never say anything you wouldn’t like him saying to anyone else. You could say you pushed someone down the stairs and he’d be sitting opposite of you like “oh! okay!” and then pretends he never heard of it

-On the topic of that, if you ever need any information, he is your man to turn to, and all information may be yours for the discounted price of 3 kisses, maybe more if he’s feeling cheeky.

-Loves teasing you and getting into playful banter, it’s the sweetest thing to him. Playful insults too, but if you pretend to be hurt, he comes up to you to “kiss the hurt away” and he just babies you until you break character. If he, by accident, really does hit a nerve he drops the play and apologizes quickly, and would probably feel bad about it for longer than he’d let on, but you’d know by the abundance of gifts and the fact he wants to do about everything for you 

-He also loves to get a little rough,  nothing serious but along with the verbal banter he likes a little bit of a tussle. Interlacing your fingers and pushing and pulling, laughing along with you until one of you loses your balance or yields. Loves to playfight with you in bed too, before you two go to sleep until he traps you in an embrace that you’ll have to fall asleep in

-He can be a pretty hard sleeper, so good luck trying to get out of his hold. He can be easy to wake, he has a sixth sense for danger too

-Despite his big and extroverted demeanor, sometimes he wishes for nothing more but an evening of silence with his head in your lap, sighing softly as you card your fingers through his hair, smiling if you decide to kiss his forehead

-Encore is your big bonding point. She comes with Aalto like a bonus package, and as chaotic as she can be she is really sweet and loves whoever uncle Aalto trusts enough to be his partner

-Sometimes she stays over, and a lot of times you can see her indulge in making little trinkets, some of them which are for you, some for others

-Even at her young age she has lots of stories to share, and her and Aalto make one hell of a story-teller duo

-Aalto does need to go out to business a lot, and sometimes it takes him days to get what he was sent out to do, and in all that time he misses his home (you) greatly

-He can’t guarantee to send you letters in this time period, as even a small mistake can mean doom of his mission, but he does promise to try, if only to lessen your own worries

Mortefi:

-A relationship Mortefi isn’t difficult, and it can be classified as quite the low maintenance. This does not mean he doesn’t love you or give you your due attention and love, it’s just that both of you are busy with your work and separate lives. You two just seem to never lose that spark no matter how much time you spend apart

-He never liked the idea of combining his love life and work life together into one big mess, he knows it carries its own risks and distractions, and in his field of science that is dangerous. And with this his time management between work and you is impeccable 

-He is there for you when you need him, and his love language is mainly acts of service.

-Words aren’t his forte and he can find it difficult to express his love, he still tries. Perhaps not with his own lips, but he looks for symphonies of his feelings in other songs and melodies before he shows you the one that encapsulates all he feels towards you

-He is the sort of person to send you random article links, be it about something aimed to improve your health, or links to poems or songs. Just drops them or hoards them in your chats..

-Mortefi is a bit sensitive to smells, he really doesn’t like strong odors unless it's those antiseptic chemicals that keep his lab sparkly clean. So he doesn't wear any strong colognes either. It’s the softer smells he wears, musky with woody accents mmmm

-He is a clean freak and can get a bit snappy if he finds his lab messy due to some subordinate’s negligence or if he doesn’t have time to tidy up his home

-He starts huffing and puffing like a mother hen as he stomps around throwing everything into place, tucking every corner back into its place meticulously

-He cleans his own things, and a lot of times goes to tidy your own things since he’s already at it, and really doesn’t like seeing any sort of mess, small or big

-Does gently remind you to pick up after yourself, whether you’re with him and even more so if you’re not with him

-He is an organized hoarder. He has a whole shelf for his little things, some he made and some he got or found while on field expeditions. He is more than happy to tell you about them if you’re curious about their origins or purpose

-He can sometimes spend a lot of time in the office in his home, working on little projects for the kids that would visit the lab soon, and other time he also spends working on gifts for you

-One of the ways he shows his love to you, besides little practical devices, utility belts and multi purpose watches and compasses, is to make you deserts.

-Sweet treats are his specialty but if you he hears you are craving something savory he does know a few recipes that might be to your liking

-Knows how to whip up a bomb medicinal soup btw, that thing can regrow your limbs I’m sure

-Loves to kiss your nape a lot. Especially in those quiet moments when you’re doing something at home and he just comes up behind you, kissing your nape gently and inhaling your scent

-Loves to kiss your head too. It’s just so practical but also shows how tender he can be, how careful and tender his love is. If you’re hugging him he just turns his head and plants his lips to your temple or the top of your head, sometimes he’d lean in and whisper something sweet to you too

Ⓒ n0tamused. Do not repost, translate, edit, and/or copy any of my works. Likes, comments, and reblogs are appreciated.

[ghostofhyuck]

NCT Dream when they're in a long distance relationship.

AN: Why do I visualize this as when Dreamies are in a worldtour. 

Mark Lee ; Daily messages and late-night chats. 

He's the type who'll keep the relationship alive by sending you message 24/7, like, literally. He'll send you the most random pictures like what food he ate today or when he's in the middle of rehearsal, he'll never forget to update you. He's not the type who'll overthink when you don't reply in less than a minute because he knows that you're busy, but if you have time and so is he, you two will spend the remaining hours just chatting and flirting on text.  

Huang Renjun ; counts down the days you two will be together again.

Renjun is a very very clingy boyfriend, so I feel like he's the type who'll count down the days you two will be together again. He'll place it on his phone's calendar and he'll be all excited when the count is slowly turning into a few days. He's also the one who'll keeps on telling you that you two will meet in *insert number* days. He just couldn't wait to see you again.

Lee Jeno ; long hours of calls and silence.

Jeno would absolutely be chill with long-distance. He thinks that your relationship is low-maintenance that is why he's fine with being far away from you. Of course, he still misses you, that's why he would often call you and ask you about your day, then sometimes those calls will become silent but neither of you wanted to hang-up. The call will continue even when you two are fast asleep. 

Lee Donghyuck ; having a hard time bec. he's physically clingy!

Haechan will scream at your messages, constantly bugging you and asking to videocall him because he misses you! he misses your smile, your hug, and your kisses! He needs you and all the Dreamies HATE to share the hotel room with him because he'll just constantly whine at how he misses his girlfriend. 

Na Jaemin ; care package <3

You'll randomly hear the doorbell of your apartment flat, and when you look at the peephole, it's a random NCT member. You'll be confused as to why they're at your place but they told you that Jaemin ordered you something. You'll apologize to them for disturbing their free day but they'll brush it off. When you receive the package, it's a care package with the most random things like chocolates and snacks up to cute accessories like necklace or a perfume! You'll call your boyfriend and then he said to enjoy the package while he's overseas. 

Zhong Chenle ; he needs you right now!

After their concert, Chenle stayed in China for another week to rest but it means that he won't be seeing you for another week. He just misses you so so much, so when you're on a call with him, you joke at how you can just book a flight to China so that he wouldn't complain anymore, then an impulsive idea popped onto his mind, and the next thing you knew, you're on the next flight going to China just to see your boyfriend. 

Park Jisung ; plushies as replacements

Jisung knows how clingy you are whenever he leaves for the tour, so he decided to give you tons of tons of plushie to compensate his leave. He'll give you that huge chestnut plushie that he made for his birthday md, so that you won't miss him when he's gone. Of course, it's not enough, but it'll suffice and sometimes you would bring the chestnut plushie around the house. When Jisung video-called you, he was smiling widely when he saw you hugging the plushie.

[phoward89]

Based on this ask

Best friend!Coriolanus x Reader, Coriolanus x Best friend!Reader, Academy!Coriolanus x Academy!Reader

You just couldn't believe what happened. Your boyfriend, Livinius Cardew, who was a year older than you, was cheating on you. And you just had to find out by walking in on him and the skank from the University that he was cheating on you with. God, why did you decide to go to Vinny's apartment (that his parents got him whenever he graduated from the academy last year) to surprise him for? Usually you call and see if he's busy or not.

But no…today you decideed to just drop by since you were already in the neighborhood. Well, you were actually in the library working on a project with your best friend, Coriolanus, but decided instead of going home to your Corso apartment you'd go see your boyfriend instead.

Coryo couldn't stand Vinny, but he tolerated Livia Cardew's older brother because he was your boyfriend. The platinum blonde didn't want you ditching him to the curb over some asshole, so he played nice with your boyfriend.

But after tonight, well, he won't be hiding his hatred for the older Cardew sibling anymore.

Of course, after being let inside of Livinius’ apartment by the Avox and finding him in his study getting ridden like a trick pony by some university girl, you ran to the only place you could. Your best friend's penthouse.

You were a wreck, tear stains and mascara rolling down your cheeks, as you frantically knocked on Coriolanus' door. You felt so stupid, felt so heartbroken by being cheated on and just needed your best friend.

Coriolanus had just sat down for a dinner of gloopy mashed potatoes and water cabbage soup with Grandma'am and Tigris whenever a loud frantic knock sounded at the door. Since the Snow family didn't socialize with too many people (due to keeping their status of not having a pot to piss in on the down low) they knew that it could only be one of two people. You or Pluribus Bell, their neighbor.

Standing up, Coriolanus told the women at the table, ‘I'll get it, Grandma'am, Tigris. Just keep eating.”

“Invite whoever it is for dinner. It's not too late for us to include a guest, Coriolanus.” Grandma'am told her grandson before sipping on her watery cabbage broth. Only that old woman would act like they're holding a grand feast instead of eating a bland meal for peasants.

Coryo just nodded and thinly smiled at his Grandma'am, who he felt was growing more delusional by the day. “Of course, Grandma’am.”

“Go on, Coryo, before they break the door down.” Tigris shooed her cousin as the knocks on the door got louder and more frantic.

Honestly, Tigris was getting tired of doing ‘favors’ for the maintenance man in order to borrow tools or electrical tape, etc. She shuddered at the thought of how many ‘favors’ the maintenance man would want to sand out and fix a dented door.

“Y/N, baby, what's wrong? What happened?” Coryo asked as soon as he opened the door and saw you standing in front of him, looking like a heartbroken mess with mascara and tears staining your cheeks. Your eyes, usually so beautiful and bright, were dull and blood shot. And when all Coryo got for an answer was you bursting into years and flinging yourself at him, he knew that somebody hurt you. “Who do I gotta kill?” He seriously asked while wrapping his arms around you; giving you a hug.

A hug that was warm, tight, and protective all wrapped up into one.

“I caught Vinny cheating on me.” You told your best friend as sobs wracked your body.

If Coryo didn't already hate Livinius, well he definitely does now. How could that stupid asshole cheat on you? You're perfect. You're the entire package. Any man would be more than lucky to have you

Then, one thought popped into Coryo's head. The reason why you got cheated on. Coryo and you talked about a lot of stuff, including sex. You knew about how he lost his virginity in some ally behind a club when he was drunk (thanks to a bet by Festus) and he knew that you were on the fence post about going all the way with Livinius. That everytime things should go past foreplay you seemed to get nervous and stop things from going further. So, Coryo figured that Livinius Cardew got tired of blowjobs and handjobs; decided to find some whore to get his dick wet with.

“I hope you broke up with him.” Your best friend told you, because he really didn't want to see you get used and trampled on. Once a cheater always a cheater, or at least that's how the old saying goes.

Nodding against his chest, you sniffled, “Yes, I broke up with him.”

“How about we get you inside and cleaned up in the kitchen; then we'll join Grandma'am and Tigris in the dining room for dinner.” Coriolanus suggested, hoping that eating with him and his family would get your mind off of your recent breakup. Plus his family loves you, they’ll be able to help cheer you up.

Looking up at him through teary eyes, you sadly said, “Okay.”

Coriolanus rubbed your back and assured you, “You're heartbroken now, darling, but it'll mend. It won't hurt forever.” Breaking the hug, because he needed to get you inside of the penthouse, he said, “I'll make sure you forget all about that cheating bastard. We'll hangout, do whatever you want. Okay?”

“Okay.” You nodded, giving your best friend a sad smile.

Wrapping an arm around you, the platinum blonde simply said, “Come on, let's get you cheered up.’, while ushering you into his house.

And cheer you up he did. Coriolanus let you sleep over that night and listened to you vent about Vinny. He sat with you as you cried it out. Then he swore, as your best friend, that he'd never let anyone hurt you ever again.

Tags: @kuroosbby001 @purriteen @poppyflower-22 @meetmeatyourworst @whipwhoops @bxtchopolis @readingthingsonhere @savagenctzen @ryswritingrecord @erikasurfer @tulips2715 @universal-s1ut @thesmutconnoisseur @squidscottjeans @sudek4l @wearemadeofstardust0 @mashiromochi @gracieroxzy @belcalis9503 @shari-berri @aoi-targaryen @whiteoakoak @spear-bearing-bi-witch @gisellesprettylies @loverandqueenofdragons @qoopeeya @mfnqueen1 @permanentlyexhaustedpigeon88 @v-love @swiftieblyth @joyfulyouthlover @harvey-malfoy @tian-monique @chxrrybomb22 @marvel-hiddles-stark @twinkletwinklenotastar @xjinnix @devils-blackrose @shellybellysstuff @zombicupcake3

[clinticalthinkr]

Spoilers for Mouthwashing

There’s a lot of convo about Jimmy, Curly, and Anya (and for good reason), but I haven’t seen as much about the dynamic between Swansea and Daisuke. The game does make Swansea look like a saint compared to Jimmy and Curly, but let’s be real. He kind of sucks.

I’ve known people like Swansea. I’ve worked with them. They’re miserable and the best thing they can do is make sure other people aren’t miserable by trying to get them not to make the same choices they did. And those choices are, sometimes, working at a shitty job. Which we all have to do sometimes! The problem with the Swanseas of the world is that they think they know you, and they think they know what’s best for you. But we don’t know Daisuke’s situation. Maybe doing maintenance is the best he can accomplish, or maybe he just needs the money for now and would have moved on to something else. But Swansea keeps berating and pushing him down in the hopes that he won’t go through the same crap he did. And it weighs down on Daisuke.

Thankfully, I wasn’t as young or impressionable as Daisuke. I didn’t feel the need to drink to try to connect with my superior. I didn’t feel the need to climb in an extremely dangerous ventilation shaft to show my superior that I was capable, nor did I have a Jimmy in my life playing on my insecurities. Thank fuck. Nobody needs a Jimmy. But I have worked jobs where I was insecure and I made bad choices to try to do better or even just get a “good job” from my senior workers.

Back in 2018, I worked as a postal carrier for three months, though I was still in my evaluation period when I left. Being evaluated for months suuuucks. You know what sucks even more? Having no support among your peers. I only heard one positive remark about my performance from one of my co-workers during “Amazon Sunday” which is as dystopian as it sounds. When I pointed it out, he acted like his tongue betrayed him. The thing is, I craved that little bit of positivity so much, I started doing things like not putting my seatbelt on or locking the packages up in the back of the vehicle when I went in to an apartment. All in the name of efficiency. If I could just drive a little bit faster, someone will accept me. If I work a little less safely, I can get some kind of approval. I realized pretty quickly what the job was doing to me and I quit on after having a little bit of a mental breakdown.

Daisuke, though. He needs a mentor. And it sucks that Swansea couldn’t be that for him. It sucks even more that Jimmy saw that insecurity and took advantage of it. Anyway, that’s my rant. Swansea isn’t based. He is, in fact, cringe. At least he accepts how much he sucks. It’s a start. But what good does that do Daisuke? He needed someone to at least pretend to be a mentor. He needed someone to take responsibility.

[adrealucia]

New Beginnings

tags: post Blood Brothers ending, Sean Diaz x Reader, might contain smut in future chapters, lots of fluff, romantic fluff, overall just fucking wholesome, obviously mentions Daniel quite often, sfw in the beginning, maybe nsfw in the future idk, definitely slow burn chapter summary: new ideas, a heavy storm, shadow puppets, and a slumber party. a little bit angsty but I balanced it out I promise.

Chapter three

After you and the Diaz Brothers finish up all of your Tamales and wrapped up the conversation, you return to your modest house, a cozy space with a view of the ocean. Settling down at your makeshift desk—a sturdy wooden table with a stack of papers and a laptop—you begin to structure the business plans for Diaz’s Garage. When you woke up this morning you couldn’t have thought that tonight you would be sitting at your desk returning to your role as a business manager especially not for Sean Diaz the local mechanic. 

The sound of waves crashing against the shore outside provides a soothing background as you spread out notes. Ideas for expanding the garage's services and enhancing its appeal to the community fill your mind. You envision new service packages, partnerships with local businesses, and sustainable practices that could set Diaz’s Garage apart. Sean has been talking about expanding the Garage, so that would be the first idea you will be working on. 

“So, regular maintenance packages…” you mutter aloud, jotting down notes and adjusting numbers on your laptop screen. The possibilities seem endless, fueled by Sean's vision and your own growing understanding of the local market. You work for hours and hours on these plans. Honestly, you totally forgot that you are a master in this field and the Diaz Garage, as well as Sean and Daniel, are so different from the workplace you had back home. It all feels so exciting and new and it makes you want to pull an all-nighter, but that wouldn’t be very smart so after a few hours and many good ideas and plans you decide to wrap things up and go to bed. Excitement bubbled within you as you drove through the familiar streets of Puerto Lobos once again, heading towards Diaz’s Garage. Today was the day you planned to present Sean with your refined business ideas, eager to discuss the future of the garage over breakfast. You sent him a text last night, asking if it would be okay to come over in the morning, and the gentleman that he is Sean answered that he would be preparing a nice breakfast and be waiting for you. The morning sun painted the town a golden hue, and the salty breeze from the ocean filled your senses with a sense of anticipation.

Pulling up to the garage, you found Sean already waiting outside, leaning casually against the wall with a charming smile on his face. His hair, tousled by the ocean breeze, only added to his relaxed demeanor.

"Hey there," Sean greeted you with a grin, his eyes lighting up as he approached your car. "You look like you've got big plans brewing today."

You stepped out of the car, returning his smile. "Big plans indeed. Can't wait to hear what you think."

Sean chuckled softly. "I’m all ears. But first, breakfast."

He gestured towards a small table set up with breakfast under a nearby awning. The spread included fresh fruit, pastries, and a pot of steaming coffee. The aroma of the coffee mixed with the salty air, created a perfect backdrop for serious business talk and playful banter.

As you sat down, Sean poured you a cup of coffee and sat across from you. "So, what’s the big idea?"

You took a sip of the coffee, savoring the moment before launching into your plans. "I’ve been thinking about expanding the garage’s services—regular maintenance packages and eco-friendly options. I’ve also found some potential partnerships with local businesses that could really boost our visibility." Daniel, who had just joined you and already started snacking on some of the fruits, perks up at the mention of new ideas. “Do you think we could start doing custom modifications? Like those cars you see in magazines?”

Sean nods, smiling at his younger brother’s enthusiasm. “Absolutely, Daniel. And I think with your creativity, we could really make a name for ourselves.”You glance at Sean, impressed by his vision and determination. “It sounds ambitious, but I think it could work. Especially with the right partnerships and marketing.”

Sean meets your gaze, a flicker of admiration in his eyes. “That’s what I like about having you around. You see the potential in things.” You feel a warmth spread through you at his words, grateful for the opportunity to contribute. “I believe in what you’re doing here, Sean. And I’m excited to see where we can take Diaz’s Garage.”

Sean nodded thoughtfully, his gaze fixed on you with genuine interest. "Sounds like you’ve been busy. I like where this is going. Sustainability is definitely a selling point around here. And custom mods? That could attract a whole new clientele."

Encouraged by his response, you leaned forward, the playful glint in your eye matching his. "I knew you'd see the potential. With your expertise and my ideas, Diaz’s Garage could become the talk of Puerto Lobos."

Sean chuckled a hint of flirtation in his voice. "Well, we already are the talk of the town, but I’m all for making a bigger splash."

The morning passed in a blur of productive discussion and shared laughter, each idea sparking new possibilities and strengthening the connection between you and Sean. His ability to blend professionalism with playful banter kept the atmosphere lively and engaging. “So, what’s next on our path to world domination?” Sean teased, a mischievous smile playing on his lips.

You laughed, enjoying the easy camaraderie. "First, Puerto Lobos. Then, who knows? The world might not be ready for us yet."

Sean leaned back, his expression thoughtful. "Well, let’s start with Puerto Lobos then. We’ll take it one custom modification at a time."

As you and Sean continue to brainstorm and outline plans for the future of the garage, the sky outside begins to darken, signaling the approaching storm. “Looks like a storm’s coming,” Daniel says, worry creeping into his voice.

Sean glances out the window and nods. “A big one, by the looks of it. Maybe we should start securing the place.” Well you think to yourself, this took a quick turn. Nonetheless, you quickly get up from your seat and immediately begin to help.

You and Sean quickly begin preparing the garage for the impending storm. You help move the more valuable tools and parts to higher shelves, while Sean checks the drainage around the building. Daniel, sensing the urgency, pitches in without hesitation. For the whole time that you have been living here in Puerto Lobos, the weather has always been nice, of course, there were some rainy days but Daniel and Sean sure seem to be preparing for the end of the world. 

As the wind picks up and the first drops of rain begin to fall, you realize the storm is going to be worse than you all anticipated. The town’s streets quickly become rivers of muddy water, and the power flickers before finally going out. The Garage is pitch Black and you now really have to squint your eyes in order for you to see something. You wish you could at least grab some candles, but there is just not enough time, the rain is already pouring so heavily you are scared it might flood the whole place.

“We need to get the sandbags,” Sean says, his voice steady but urgent. “We keep them in the back for situations like this.”

Together, you and Daniel follow Sean to the back of the garage, where you haul out heavy sandbags and position them around the garage’s entrance to keep the water out. The rain pounds down harder, and the wind howls through the trees, but the three of you work in tandem, your efforts synchronized.

“Grab that side,” Sean instructs, pointing to a particularly heavy bag. You and Daniel lift it together, your muscles straining but your determination unwavering. The storm’s fury outside seems to strengthen your resolve.

As you work, you notice Daniel’s hands shaking slightly, his eyes darting nervously at the storm outside. You exchange a concerned glance with Sean, who gives you a reassuring nod. 

Inside the garage, the three of you take shelter as the storm rages outside. The power outage leaves you in near darkness, save for the occasional flash of lightning illuminating the room. You find a few candles and light them, their warm glow creating a small island of light in the otherwise dark and stormy night.

Daniel huddles close to you and Sean, his fear evident. “I really hate storms,” he admits, his voice small. Poor Daniel you think to yourself. When you were a little kid you also always were scared of these kinds of storms, especially thunder used to give you the heebie-jeebies. 

Sean wraps an arm around his brother, pulling him close. “Hey, we’re safe here. The garage is sturdy, and we’ve done everything we can to keep the water out.”

You reach out, placing a comforting hand on Daniel’s shoulder. “Think of it as an adventure, it’s like we’re on a mission to save the garage from the storm! And we’re winning. We’re here together, and we’ll get through this.”

Daniel nods, trying to be brave. “Yeah, like a mission. We’ve got this.”

As the storm rages on, you all sit close, the howling wind and pounding rain a constant backdrop. To lighten the mood, you start sharing stories.

Trying to cheer Daniel up, you say, “I remember one time during a blackout, my friends and I made shadow puppets on the wall. It was silly, but it made us forget the storm outside.”

Daniel manages a small smile. “Maybe we should try that.”

Sean grins. “Why not? It might be fun.” He turns to you, a playful glint in his eye. “Got any good shadow puppet skills to show off?”

You laugh, glad for the distraction. “I might have a trick or two up my sleeve.”

As you and Sean make various shadow puppets on the wall, Daniel’s laughter gradually replaces his fear. The tension eases, and the storm outside becomes a distant worry. The living room feels less like a refuge from the storm and more like a sanctuary of shared strength. Hours pass in a blur of stories, games, and moments of quiet contemplation interrupted only by the storm’s relentless assault outside.

Eventually, exhaustion catches up with you all. Sean looks out the window, the storm still raging with no sign of letting up.

“I can’t let you drive back home in this storm,” he says, his voice carrying genuine concern. “It’s too dangerous out there right now.” You glance outside at the torrential rain and nod in agreement. “Yeah, it’s pretty wild out there. I don’t think I’d make it far.”

Sean nods thoughtfully, then stands up with determination. “I’ll set up the couch for you. It’s not much, but at least you’ll be dry and safe here.”

Grateful for his concern, you offer a faint smile. “Thanks, Sean. I appreciate it.”

He nods, his expression softening. “Of course. We’re all in this together.”

With careful steps to avoid the scattered tools and equipment, Sean clears a path to the couch in the living room. He pulls out a blanket and fluffs the pillows, creating a makeshift but comfortable spot for you to spend the night.

“There,” Sean says, gesturing toward the couch. “It’s not the four seasons, but it should do the job. Get some rest. We’ll figure things out in the morning.” As you settle onto the couch, Daniel stands nearby, looking a bit hesitant. “Are you going to be okay?” he asks, his voice tinged with concern.

You nod, giving him a reassuring smile. “I’ll be fine, Daniel. Thanks for asking.”

Sean ruffles Daniel’s hair affectionately. “Alright, bud. Time for bed. We’ve all had a long day.” Daniel reluctantly heads to his room, and Sean lingers for a moment, his gaze meeting yours. “Goodnight,” he says softly. “If you need anything, my room’s just down the hall.”

“Goodnight, Sean. And thanks again.”

Sean gives you a warm smile before heading to his own room, leaving you in the quiet and comfort of the living room. As you drift off to sleep, the storm’s roar outside gradually fades into a distant rumble, replaced by a sense of safety and gratitude for the unexpected refuge found in the midst of the tempest. Hours later, you’re jolted awake by a loud crash of thunder. Disoriented and groggy, you struggle to get your bearings. The room is dim, lit only by the flickering light of a candle. The storm outside is relentless, the wind howling like a wild beast, and the rain pounding against the windows in a chaotic symphony.

Suddenly, you hear the unmistakable sound of Daniel’s voice, filled with fear. ���Sean! Sean!” His voice is a high-pitched wail, cutting through the storm’s roar. You sit up, your heart racing, and see Daniel standing in the hallway, his small frame shaking visibly with fear.

Sean, ever vigilant, is instantly alert. He emerges from his room in a rush, his eyes wide with concern. “Daniel, it’s okay. It’s just a storm,” he says, wrapping his arms around Daniel in a protective hug. “You’re safe. I’m here.”

You rise from the couch, feeling a deep sense of empathy for the frightened boy. Moving to stand beside them, you gently place a hand on Daniel’s back. “Hey, Daniel,” you say softly, your voice calm and soothing. “We’re all here, and we’re all safe.”

The three of you move back to the living room, where the flickering candlelight casts long, comforting shadows on the walls. The storm’s rage seems slightly muted within the warm, dim glow. Sean guides Daniel to the couch, his arm still wrapped around his brother’s shoulders. You sit beside them, your presence a steadying force.

“I’m sorry,” Daniel whispers, his voice trembling as he looks up at you both. “I just… I got so scared.”

“It’s okay, buddy,” Sean murmurs, pulling him close and ruffling his hair gently. “Storms can be really scary. But we’re together, and that’s what matters.”

You nod in agreement, giving Daniel a reassuring smile. “Yeah, and we’re not going anywhere. We’ll stay right here until it’s over.”

Daniel looks up at you both, his fear slowly subsiding. “Can I stay with you guys?” he asks, his voice small but hopeful.

“Of course,” Sean says immediately, his voice firm and comforting. “We’ll all stay right here.”

The three of you huddle together on the couch, the storm’s fury raging outside but feeling less threatening with each passing minute. You start sharing stories again, trying to lighten the mood and distract Daniel from the storm. Sean tells a funny story about their old neighbor in Seattle who used to garden in his pajamas, making Daniel giggle despite himself.

You join in, sharing a silly memory from your own childhood, and soon the living room is filled with soft laughter. The candlelight dances across your faces, casting a warm glow that contrasts sharply with the storm’s cold, harsh presence outside. The howling wind and the thunder’s roar become background noise as you all focus on the stories and each other’s company.

As the night wears on, Daniel’s eyelids grow heavy, his fear slowly giving way to exhaustion. Sean wraps an arm around his brother, pulling him close, and you find yourself leaning against the armrest, feeling a sense of peace despite the storm outside.

“Remember that time we camped in the backyard, and the tent collapsed?” Sean asks, his voice soft and filled with nostalgia.

Daniel nods sleepily, a small smile on his face. “Yeah… you blamed it on a bear,” he mumbles, snuggling closer to Sean.

Sean chuckles. “It was probably just the wind. But you were so brave.”

You reach out and gently squeeze Daniel’s hand. “You’re brave now, too. Storms can be scary, but you’re handling it really well.”

Daniel looks up at you with sleepy eyes, his fear almost gone. “Thanks,” he whispers. “I feel better with you guys here.”

As the storm continues its relentless assault outside, exhaustion eventually overtakes you all. Sean, Daniel and you nestle together on the couch, finding warmth and safety in your closeness. The candle burns low, its light casting a gentle glow on your faces.

The last thing you hear before sleep claims you is the steady rhythm of rain against the windows, the wind’s howl gradually fading into the background. The warmth of the Diaz brothers by your side and the knowledge that you’re all in this together brings a deep sense of comfort and peace.

authors note: hihi i hope you guys liked this chapter, I mean whats a better way to get to know somebody than being locked up because of a huge storm right? anyway even though Daniel is already sixteen in this fic he will always be a little kid deep inside of my heart. I cant wait to continue this fic and I am excited to hear about your opinions.

[cloakedsparrow]

I always imagine that the Drakes' apartment in Gotham (the one they lived in before Janet's death) was a lot like the one Frasier lived in (from the show by the same name), with some of the art replaced by artifacts. It was large, but not gratuitously so. Big enough for the Drakes not to be on top of each other and big enough to entertain guests, but not big enough to get lost in or host a gala in. It spoke of wealth, but in a classy way.

Frasier's room would, of course, be Jack and Janet's room. Martin's room would be their home office (and would still have the built-in bathroom). Jack would behave as though he were still at their main office when he worked from home, not leaving the office other than for lunch for a short break. Janet didn't see the point in working from home if she wasn't going to enjoy any of the comforts or benefits of being at home. Daphne's room would be Tim's room. He was not allowed to have a pet.

Instead of having a housekeeper, like Jack hired after waking from the coma, they had a cleaning service that sent someone every week (sometimes more or less, if the Drake's requested it). There was a dorman, a front desk to accept packages, maintenance service for if anything broke, storage spaces, an underground garage, and a laundry room. Most of Jack and Janet's clothes were dry cleaned, but Tim used the laundry room often. The front desk person, doormen, and maintenance workers all knew his name.

The balcony got an excellent view of the Bat-Signal when it was lit. Tim took and developed many photos of it. Jack complained that it 'cheapened the view' but he wasn't home often enough to do more than gripe about it a bit. Janet played the piano, and Tim's violin was kept on a stand beside it so they could play together sometimes.

It was in walking distance of several stores, a theater, a couple museums, a subway station, and several bus stops. The Drakes owned a car but rarely used it. They usually walked or took cabs for the convenience. Tim walked, biked, or took the bus everywhere. He liked the lights and sounds of the city, just like his mother.

[repaircart]

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[donnerpartyofone]

tagged by @moviesludge so this totally gratuitous info dump is his fault! Har har.

Do you make your bed? Sometimes! We usually just smooth out the covers, just so it's easy to get in at night and not all tangled up. I have a lot of just, executive and mechanical problems with maintenance and cleaning. I actually like having things neat and I like the monotony of cleaning, I have a fantasy life in which I'm just straight up a housewife, but I'm really bad at it. It causes me a lot of grief.

Fave number? 2! From when I was really little I had this sense that two was coming up all the time; obviously this must have been some sort of projection, but it stuck with me. I perceived some sort of subtext about being number two in life somehow, like being good but not meaningfully great at anything, which is fairly neurotic but typical of me as a kid. Anyway I was very disappointed when I learned by accident that Adam Levine has "222" tattooed on his arm, so I guess I won't be doing anything like that!

What’s your job? I guess I have to say I'm a writer, which feels embarrassing. If you say something like that, it sounds like you are succeeding at it, or that you at least make a living that way! Which is not, and may never be true. But it's the only thing anyone will pay me for right now. I have to admit that I feel pretty bad about this, I think I made a huge mistake by trying to see what I could do with my life, and not devoting absolutely all of my energy to finding and keeping a job in a cubicle or behind a cash register. Everyone automatically tells you it's best to "follow your dreams" or whatever but it's not very romantic to have no idea what's going to happen to you, and to be in danger because you're a fucking infant who doesn't know how life works.

Go back to school? Probably not. I was a good student up until I got into college, then I completely fell apart. Part of it was what I now understand are neurological issues, part of it was that I was so depressed I couldn't even get up and go to exams at times, and part of it was that I just had absolutely no idea what to do with my life or even HOW people do things with their lives (I still don't). Like I almost should have just done another four years in high school, or until I had some mental grasp of what college is even for, as a tool for transitioning into real life. The irony is that now I do college-level (possibly even grad level, sometimes) research and writing all the time, under my own power, just because I'm interested and I have a few outlets for it. My professors who struggled to get me to do anything would kill me if they could see what I'm doing now, haha. But if I were to go back to school, I would have to have an absolutely definite plan of why and what to do with it, that would make the debt and the time sink worth it. I admire people who do this, though, I do know adults who totally turned their lives around that way. I just don't have the brains for that.

Can you parallel park? I don't have a driver's license! I learned to drive, and I seem to recall being good at this during lessons. But I failed my one test, I genuinely think the conductor was being really confusing and getting angry with me--like, I was waiting at a light and when it turned green I started to go, and she goes, "WHAT ARE YOU DOING!!!" and I said "I stopped at the red light and when it turned green I drove in the direction you told me to" and she goes "...WELL DID YOU *NOTICE* THAT IT TURNED GREEN???" which was a totally mindblowing question. And then I just felt so demoralized that I never tested again. But I also really think that if I got my license I would be dead by now, or someone else would be. I'm just so extremely nervous and absent-minded, and I also have pretty bad spacial understanding.

Job you had that would surprise people? My first job was working in a perfume factory! Or really it was like a plant that packaged these extremely toxic dollar store perfumes. It was run by a Russian family who were totally fucking insane and the machines were all janky, it was just a handful of us girls from high school working there and it's amazing none of us ever got maimed. The glue for the labels was really shitty, so they would set pallets of bottles out in the sun until they were blazing hot and then we were supposed to roll them between our palms to stick the labels back on. It was extremely painful and I remember thinking, they probably shouldn't be allowed to make us do this lol. The building was tucked back off the road across this wasteland, and there was a giant pile of broken toilets out front. I'll never forget that, I wish I had a photo.

Aliens real? You know what, I'm going to completely plagiarize moviesludge's answer because I find it so satisfying: "I feel like the scope of the universe makes this a certainty and it amazes me how many people think it’s a ridiculous idea. Talk about main character syndrome!" And I will just add that I read Whitley Strieber's Communion for the first time last year and it totally stunned me. I thought I knew what it was going to be like, because to some degree it established all of our cliches about alien abduction, but there's way more to it than that. He has this existential concept about what aliens even are, and what rules they obey, that is not at all restricted to the idea of animals that drive machines around. It's totally worth reading.

Can you drive stick? That's how I learned actually! And I have this concept that if I did have to drive I would be decent at it because I was fairly comfortable during lessons, and for years I have been riding my bike in really tricky situations all over the city. I know and obey the rules and I have a pretty good awareness of myself on the road. And also I always seem to be paired with a best friend or partner who LOVES to drive and I have spent huge amounts of time in cars, paying close attention and helping navigate. But as I said above, my brain is also garbage and I think if I drove a LOT and gave myself regular opportunities to get in trouble, I would inevitably have a nervous breakdown and/or fuck up way worse than a normal person.

Guilty pleasure? I'm with @thechurchofsplatterdaysaintssplatterdaysaints in that I sort of object to this concept. But I also spend a lot of time watching absolute shit movies and television, and some of the time I have an excuse--it's fun, it's anthropologically interesting, whatever--but a lot of the time I'm literally just deadening my senses because I'm so overloaded with depression and anxiety, and I'm not even paying attention, the TV is just ON. I don't think that's great. I don't know if I would call this "pleasure" but it is some form of indulgence.

Tattoos? A bunch! It's hard to explain but I kind of used them as a form of exposure therapy. I have struggled with some kind of phobia of doing anything that you can never change or take back, and getting tattoos helped. And I like them, I like most of mine. There's only two I'm really not crazy about, but they don't upset me that much, they have their good points too.

Fave color? Mainly red. Also orange and yellow and black. I kind of hate blue, my enjoyment of blue is highly conditional.

Fave type of music? In this phase of my life I generically prefer experimental or ambient music with no lyrics or vocals. This can span a lot of eras and genres.

Do you like puzzles? Maybe I would if I did them and I might find it therapeutic. Generally speaking I feel too stupid for them; like one thing I like about the original Resident Evil 4 is that the puzzle aspect of it is so primitive, it's almost in there just to check a box in between button-mashing violence. That's more my speed of game entertainment.

Phobias? Hm I'm afraid of lots of things, but as far as a proper phobia that's irrational: I have these fantasies of things exploding, like just shattering for no reason and being incredibly destructive. Like common household objects or whatever. And I have a lot of intrusive thoughts about people around me suddenly turning into psychotic monsters (monster can be literal or figurative) and I just can't find a rational defense reaction. But these are not true phobias in the sense of being a real, controlling force in my decision-making, I don't think they're really going to affect me. I really enjoy that thing about how trypohobia is not a real phobia because no one has to be treated for it in order to effectively navigate their life. It's just a dislike, and a pretty normal and understandable one. People on the internet have a lot of trouble telling the difference between things like phobias, moral objections, and just stuff that they don't like!

Favorite childhood sport? I was and am a total loser who can't do sports, but I guess the answer is karate. I took a year or two of that at a really great place sometime when I was 10-12, I really enjoyed the repetitive discipline of it and I was good at that kind of slow and steady, strength-based thing. I could say that I stopped because my mom was dying and that sapped my motivation, but I actually think the truth is that I was getting to the point where sparring was more a part of it, and I'm not fast or spontaneous and I don't like when people touch me, so I knew I was never going to test out of my last belt and I might not enjoy it as much as I advanced. I still think about doing another martial art, though. I think it might help me pay attention to my physical health, and get out of my head and into my body, and maybe it would also help me learn not to be so afraid of human contact. I need to pick something that's decent for people who are short and squat, though. Everyone always tells you there's no rule that says certain forms are suited to certain body types, it's all about integrity and commitment and building ability, but I really don't think that's true! (Let me know if you have opinions on this)

Talk to yourself? Yeah. Living in the city for a long time bred the habit of talking to myself like an absolute crazy person right out on the street when I'm not doing well; it's like, everyone else is acting crazy, who fucking cares! But I'll also talk to myself when I'm alone in the house just because I like words and making sounds and telling jokes. I have no problem with the stigma of talking to oneself.

Movies you adore? So many. Movies are my whole life. How do I pick, I don't know! Some recent ones I had to write about are UZUMAKI, DELICATESSEN, SOMETHING WICKED THIS WAY COMES, and DELLAMORTE DELLAMORE which might literally be my favorite movie of all time, although I have a problem with that concept.

Coffee or Tea? Mostly coffee, there's less action/decision-making involved. But I like tea also. Some of my favorites are licorice, anything with cinnamon, and also savory toasted grain teas.

1st thing you wanted to be when grew up? I wanted to be a screenwriter. I liked movies and my dad is a writer, and it just seemed obvious. But I never learned anything about the discipline of it or the professional trajectory. And I was really poisoned by the whole "you can be anything you want!" idea, I feel terrible for saying that when so many people get zero support or faith from adults in childhood, but it's true. I heard and believed that blanket statement, but I didn't have the clarity or mental toughness to specialize and understand the meaning and implications of having a goal. It was just like, oh I could be a writer, or I could be an artist, or I could be in the movies, or blah blah blah I guess one of these things will just land on my head some day. I had no fucking clue, I still don't. It's hopeless! But you wanna know what's really weird, when I was little I also had this strange fixation on being in the army--but I had zero fantasies about combat or anything exciting, it was entirely this idea about being really good at boot camp, being able to endure any form of punishment. And I had a similar concept about JAIL, I remember reading this children's photo book that explained all about prison, and I think it was just this whole fantasy about having intensely disciplined obedience and being able to endure anything! I still think I'm going to jail some day but it's just because I feel so guilty about everything. Obviously the main conclusion to be drawn from this is that I am a natural born pervert.

tagging @hechiceria @sleepsafe @columbosunday @clarabeau @barnsburntdownnow @punisheddonjuan

[neednothavehappenedtobetrue]

my apartment building makes us have an app for the laundry room, a second app for the package room, a third app to buzz people in when they ring the doorbell, and a fourth app for maintenance requests and paying rent. my opinion is this is too many apps! this is silly! I know multiple people who still have dumb phones, although none that live here. I know this is an old man yells at cloud opinion, but also I’m right

[stevenbasic]

GITJ Post 308: Alone in His Apartment

Melissa Monroe, Office Manager of what was once Far Horizons Medical Associates, was alone in the small studio apartment of her boss and new boyfriend. He’d peeled himself off of her, out of bed, about a half hour ago. He’d thought he was being discreet in cleaning his seed from her skin, getting himself ready for work and leaving after an adorable little kiss, all while thinking she was still asleep. So cute! And it made her smile, picturing him working away downstairs while she lazed away in his sheets. It made her feel like a pampered housewife and she giggled, rolling to and fro on his silly little bed. She needed to get down to the office too, but there was no rush. 

She had some time to kill, in fact; it’d be a little wait for someone to bring her clothes. So, standing, she stretched herself up and out of bed to her full 6’5” - or 6’6”...she had trouble keeping track haha! - arms reaching up, smiling as she surveyed her work on his ceiling. The “I Love You” was still painted there above. She wriggled her fingers at it playfully. She could almost reach it. Soon. 

“I do love you..!” she said to the empty apartment as she lowered her arms, looking around and examining the old little hovel that, yes omg, had so much of him in it. Casually, pulling the hem of his old, overstretched t-shirt down as far as she could over her bare hips - modesty still had its pull - she began to wander around. She ran her finger over the windowsill; the glass had exploded outwards, at least. Woooops haha..! she giggled to herself, We’ll have maintenance come up and fix that this afternoon. 

It’s a mess, his place, she began to realize. There was a pile of his dirty clothes in the corner, dishes in the sink, a few old soda cans on the counter. Like a little boy, she couldn’t help but think, he couldn’t keep his apartment tidy. She��d teasingly scold him, she decided, next time she saw him. Tell him to go clean his room. 

In the meantime, though, she couldn’t help herself. She began to pick up for him around the apartment a bit, putting away a few things. He had a closet, a small one, and she opened it. She hung a shirt, she smelled his clothes. Ahhhhhhh…! With a deep breath she pulled in the scent of his laundry detergent and, underneath, his smell, sealed into the fabric of them. They did smell like him, if she inhaled deep enough

She wanted more. 

She closed his closet, and stepped over to his small dresser of drawers. On it, two new, unopened packages sat on top, three-packs of boxers, one size XS, and one XXS. She giggled. They were new ones, not worn yet; it looked like he just had them delivered.

She opened his top drawer, and found his underwear. With interest, she rustled through it. Mostly “mediums”, a few “smalls”. She shivered, excited not only that he was obviously getting smaller, but that he knew it, and was preparing to get even smaller still. “Oh my godddd…” she cooed and - unable to help herself once again - tore open the top package. “They´re so tiny…” she marveled aloud, sliding out one pair of fresh boxers and stretching them up for inspection. Her large hands made the XS men´s boxers seem so small. She was, in fact, tempted to try them on but haha knew she certainly wouldn't fit inside them. In fact, maybe not even one of her gym-muscular thighs could fit in through the waist; the elastic waistband would have a really hard time encircling her single leg. And this would fit him, around his hips? she realized with wonder, picking up the other, still unopened package, maybe even these smaller ones? He was…he was getting smaller. And she, she knew, was getting simply enormous, HUGE. Her proportions had grown since she’d started working here. This tee-shirt, an oversized college shirt of his from years back, was stretched near to bursting over her new curves. She made adult men’s clothing - like these little undies - look like doll’s clothes. To her these boxers looked like they were for a small child, not something she could even attempt.  But, really, this morning she wasn't looking for something to wear, she was looking for…

“Oh my…” she whispered as she found exactly what she was seeking. She turned her head to the side and saw his pile of dirty laundry in the corner. She crouched down, her bare, muscular thighs bulging, and dug into the very bottom of the pile. Beneath it all she found a used pair of white briefs, size S; even on him they’d be a tight fit. She picked them up as if they were a trophy.

She caressed it with her hands, rubbed it with her fingers, played a little with them. She turned behind herself, making sure she wasn’t haha being watched and then unabashedly rubbed the little briefs to her face. She’d had enough wits about her last night to ask Marisela to turn off the kitchen camera, and was now then able to enjoy a private moment there, just she and his underpants, covering herself with his smell. Satisfied, finally, like a junkie after an early morning hit, she stepped to the living area and - grabbing the purse that she’d thrown into the couch last night - immediately stored the briefs inside. Snapping it shut she felt a little naughty smile grow onto her face, knowing it wasn’t right to steal his clothes. But haha, she decided, a girl’s got needs. 

Melissa looked around her boyfriend's apartment again. The pink walls looked good, she thought with pride. She’d still need to gather her clothes, which she’d thrown somewhere, and wait for her new outfit to arrive. The jeans, at least, would have to go back on. In the meantime, she was getting hungry. She stepped back to the little kitchen space, and placed her purse on the table, surveying the crack across the top with another giggle of reminiscence. She’d have to get him a new one, like she’d said. 

I can’t wait to make love to you again, little man, she thought, maybe break a few more tables. She giggled in surprise at her own naughty thoughts and opened his fridge…

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sorry for the long delay, Tumblrites. I'm going to make an effort to post more frequently over the next couple weeks so we catch up. We're like 30 posts behind where we are at my Patreon which is further back than I'd like.