#Everything is so goddamn expensive and I just want to have an okay life

[professionallush]

got a notice that they’re raising our rent the maximum allowed amount since we’re in a rent controlled place and it’s sent me spiraling. It’s totally fine but just viscerally upsetting because I know I need to be making more money to get us to a better place in terms of savings and also know that’s at the expense of time with my daughter which is so depressing especially since I really don’t like doing what I do anymore.

[izzy-b-hands]

My doctor messaging me at 12:30 in the morning to tell me she wants to do a telehealth visit abt the side effects I'm having with my new Lamotrigine dose (including worse insomnia than my usual insomnia, as u may have guessed lmao) is. something.

[sleepyjuice-juice]

//TBHK 114 SPOILERS

okay okay imagine

this is kou's perfect tl, right? His family is together, his mom is alive, and not only is Sousuke alive and well, but they are close. First name basis. Sousuke knows that Kou is an exorcist even though he keeps that a secret from his other living friends, Yokoo and Satou. They share some sort of exclusive relationship.

And then... Nene, Akane, possibly Teru (Teru is a wildcard atp - Minamoto mom in the mix complicates his motives), possibly others are trying to revert the timeline, back to the one where absolutely nothing is working out for him. Dysfunctional family, loved ones dying, weight of the world on his shoulders all over again.

I mean, one part of this to analyze is how this affects Kou's character development. In the og tl, he's in a very tough spot in his character development, in which he still feels responsible for everyone else's happiness, always putting others first, always at his own expense. He feels weak and unreliable, but holds himself to such a high standard, because otherwise he doesn't know how to hope. He's barely voiced his insecurities to anyone, besides Mitsuba, and also Teru when they fought during the severance arc.

We don't know how much Kou remembers now, nor the rate he'll remember things, nor how adjusted he really is to this new tl. Because Nene, even though she initially struggled to remember the old tl, she also was foggy on some details about the current tl. And Kou set a table for three instead of 5. So, the question this begs is how displaced is Kou's memory atp?

Alright. Moving on. Depending on these factors... how is his development affected by this? He is in an environment that is fulfilling for him in every way, but it is being threatened to be taken away by people he may or may not remember (doesn't remember Nene yet, status with Akane not confirmed, Teru's motives still in question)

And even if he does remember, how will he react? He has everything he's ever wanted, and it's real this time, unlike in picture perfect. Will he finally put his own wishes first, or will he relinquish a life that's better for him, his family, Sousuke, and so many more? And would that really be selfish of him to decide, if this timeline is objectively healthier?

It's suggested that one of the Yugi twins even grew up to be one of Tsuchigomori's colleagues, likely Amane. If he thought about it, Kou could argue that if Nene loves Hanako/Amane, she would choose the world that he got to grow up in instead of the one where he dies prematurely. It's even hinted that Aoi still likes Akane despite her engagement to Teru, so, logically he'd have a really good argument against everyone opposing the new tl, right?

But... it's not his story. We know he's more than likely going to have to lose this life. Lose his loved ones all over again

And of course... to choose Sousuke Mitsuba, he has to unchoose Mitsuba No. 3. Which is another ooooof biiiig storm coming

It's gonna hurt me, I know. I'm just SO goddamn invested in how this is going to play out

[reallylilyreally]

Baberoe is like bluebells in spring to me, every time! Sweet even when not, all colour and joy after the dark and cold. I am itching to read how your fic-writing golden touch is going to play out this time! So excited to read it, but not at the expense of your wellbeing. Take care of yourself! The horrors are real, relative comfort or no. xx

oh man this made me super emotional. Thank you so much for this message, I really deeply appreciate you reaching out on this! Have a snippet...

It’s snowing again. He sits and stares out at the line, at the nothingness and the Germans, until the sun starts to come up again, weak and grey, and everyone leaves him alone. Babe almost wants them to stop, wants Luz or Liebgott to come back and sit down next to him so he can look at someone who sees him and have them know that he is dying.

There are footsteps in the snow, someone coming up on his position from behind, and Babe can’t bring himself to turn around. There’s a pause, a shuffle in the snow, and then there’s a body pressed up against him, not quite warm, but better than before.

Babe knows who it is, even without looking. He can’t look.

“Everything okay?” Gene asks, like he hasn’t been dead for hours, like Babe hasn’t been dying over him for hours. “Babe?”

He answers on autopilot, as Gene reaches for his hand. Everything is slow and swimmy and he feels strangely blank.

“How��d you do that?” Gene asks, gesturing down at his bleeding hand.

Babe turns to look at him. He’s actually there. Gene. Sitting next to him, in the mud, face pale and nose red, covered in dirt but wearing his fucking helmet for once, and he’s actually there. He’s looking at Babe like he can see him, and holding his hand carefully between his steady fingers, no desperation, no blankness, just Gene, looking at Babe, like he can see him.

“You did that,” Babe says to him, and he means you did this, you did this to me, you cut me open, worse than just my skin, deeper than this, you’ve cut me open.

“I’ll fix it up,” Gene says, and takes a piece of blue cloth out of his pocket.

Babe has to look away from him for a moment, has to get some distance, just a little, because he’s this close from doing something utterly, unforgivably stupid. And then it occurs to him.

“Hey, Gene,” he says, the laugh bubbling up out of him from nowhere. “You called me Babe.”

Gene looks up from wrapping his hand. “I did? When?”

“Just now,” Babe says. You called me Babe.

“Babe,” Gene says, like he’s testing the word on his tongue. 

It’s been the only thing Babe’s been called for most of his life, and it sounds completely new. It sounds like something special, something just for them. 

“Babe,” he says back, a little light, a little mocking.

Gene ties off the bandage around his hand, and shoves him a little. “Heffron, watch the goddamn line.”

Babe snorts, despite himself, and watches the goddamn line. Gene settles in next to him, pressed steady and nearly warm against his side, shoulder to thigh. Babe breathes, in and out, beset by brand new knowledge, knowledge he’s been ignoring for months now. 

**

He wears the blue bandage around his cut hand until it becomes more inconvenient than the wound itself, and when he takes it off Babe folds the bloody fabric neatly and tucks it into one of the inside pockets of his jacket. He doesn’t look too closely at what he’s doing. There doesn’t seem to be any point in examining it.

[sniigura-archive]

Adam x Reader x Mammon AU where Reader's a stripper, Mammon's the boss of the club she works at, and Adam's the head of the church near the club that's trying to get it shut down. Reader being this nobody who's able to get these two (2) powerful men to do just about whatever she wants cuz her pussy's Just That Good.

She's Mammon's favorite so she's the only one of the club's performers that he listens to when it comes to getting raises/paid breaks, complaints about harassment from customers, etc., so Reader uses his interest in her to look out for her coworkers;

R: Oh, I'm not sure if I can have sex rn, i'm just too upset about how Bernadette won't be able to visit her family this weekend cuz she has to work overtime :(

M: Fine I'll give her the weekend off are you gonna suck my dick now or what

Adam and his church trying to boycott the club and causing problems for business so Reader goes to "talk to him" and now the club no longer has to worry about the church anymore. When members of the church ask Adam why they stopped boycotting he's bullshits something like "God told me we should show mercy to sex workers, just as Jesus showed mercy to Mary Magdalene (a former prostitute)". What really happened was that Reader gave Adam some A+ snu snu and threatened to never let him have sex with her again unless his church stopped boycotting the club.

Mammon goes to visit Adam shortly after cuz he can't believe that Reader managed to convince him to leave the club alone (cuz she's "just a girl" after all). Reader expects the worst, but then the two end up becoming instant besties and make a deal to have their services coexist in peace. Mammon def takes credit for "saving" the club and Reader's just looking at him like "sure jan B/".

HAUQJJAWH ANON!!!!!!!!! I THINK YOU SHOULD BE WRITING FANFIC INSTEAD OF ME!!!

god the way i was like trying to figure out how to do adam x reader x mammon and here you are. dropping this into my inbox. i’m in love with you

like!!! imagine the neighbourhood is going through some crazy gentrification. everything is changing, it gets more expensive and conservative?? hello?? what happened to the shit hole you grew up in?

you’re basically mammons cash cow. you’re the star of the club. he’s always torn between „get out there and bring some goddamn cash in“ and „nobody else should get to look at you besides me“ it’s very annoying with him. to cope he has to bend you over his desk to calm his raging possessiveness

at least you use your power over mammon for good. the girls love you and you’re all basically sisters. one girl comes to him crying because some guy groped her and he’s like „well did you at least charge him extra for that 🤨“ but when you come to him because someone called you a whore the guy can never show his face again in mammons block

ADAM!!!i just imagine him and the church protesting in front of the club and you’re just done with them already. they’re scaring off customers, especially since they live stream the whole thing!!!! most of your visitors are married men ofc they don’t show their face as long as they’re out there 😭 and man they are persistent

mammon is also losing his mind because he’s losing money. he’s also too cheap and stubborn to change club location

all these petitions and the pressure the church puts on the major is just stressful. so you decide to go over there, to talk. and oh boy did you both talk!! through gasps and moans

adam immediately develops a complex where he wants to „“safe““ reader. turn her into his perfect little housewife who stays home with their brats and goes to church every sunday. very confused when reader is actually okay with her life

reader in this i think would be rather smart with her money. like she’s into the stock market and buys property and invests in businesses. mammon and adam not realising that reader is better off than both of them 😭

LMAOO mammon taking all the credit 😭😭

i can’t even begin to imagine their reaction when they realise you’re doing both of them behind their backs. well it’s not like you’re in a committed relationship with either of them (they just thought it was implied smh 🙄)

need to be pressed inbetween both their huge bodies

[macsimagines]

I really love your abo stuff! If its okay, I'd like to request nsfw alpha! Draken, alpha! Baji, and alpha! Inupi headcannons please

(IlovealltheABO stuff -Ms.Mac)

Yandere!Alpha Draken

His pretty omega, you're driving him insane. His whole life he's seen how the world treats lovely Omegas like you. All the abuse and torment. He won't let them have you.

Draken is covering you in his smell, making sure that others back the hell off, not like he ever gives you a chance to be alone.

He's not at all an exhibitionist, but he does think about publicly claiming you. Letting the world watch how well built you are for his knot.

But never ever really goes through with it. The thought of people seeing you like that pisses you off.

Makes sure people see the collar he made you on your neck. Isn't at all expensive but its handmade and has strands of his hair braided into it.

He doesn't want to bond you until you're legally married. He wants you to be Mrs. Ryuguji and to be binded to you in every possible way.

Yandere!Alpha Baji

This maniac. God he loves you. Aggressively courts you.

Has completely destroyed other alphas and made a goddamn show of it.

Basically announced that you were his omega and that anyone that wanted you had to fight him at X location at X time.

All out brawl, but he came out on top bloody and victorious. Doesn't get why you're so afraid of him now. He just won you in the most manly feat of Alpha heroics.

Does want to publicly claim you but doesn't because it scares you. He can't stand how scared you get.

He likes it when others are scared of him, but not you. He lives to protect you.

So he just claims you where no one can see you but every one can hear you. The wet slaps of skins, your moans and cries, the way you scream his name when he knots you. Ya that's good enough.

Yandere! Inupi

Does publicly claim you. He courted you as best as he could and gave you everything he. Protected you and let you into a vicious pack of unruly alphas.

The least you can do is show everyone who you belong to.

You're shaking in fear, you can smell the alphas and betas of the black dragons staring at you in the ware house, but at least Inupi is there to kiss you, right.

Makes you present and knots you in front of that crowd. Doesn't care about all the eyes watching him, just wants you to feel him.

Bonds you in private later, and tells you how much of a good omega you are for him.

Afterwards, beats the shit out of any alpha that tries to talk about the public bonding. It wasn't so people could leer after you, it was so people knew not to even think about

Knows things are a little different between you two, but you're bonded to him now.

You're not going anywhere.

[racfoam]

Okay, poll time regarding an important purchase in my day-to-day life.

In short, I am ready to upgrade from my (glances to the Acer laptop that's been dead for a year) laptop...

I now have a very big budget (it's considered big in my country) that I got over the summer to finally spend it on an upgrade.

I need a poll because now I got an idea to buy a PC, which is dangerous territory for me for numerous reasons. Some background: I haven't had a PC since I was 14, I got my laptop (which is dead now) right as I entered high school, and it was a cheap one, it couldn't even run Minecraft without lagging which at the time pissed off my gamer childhood self.

But, as a functioning, employed adult, I finally did it. I finally saved up enough money to buy a new device.

The accesibility & portability of laptops is def what I need overall for my professional life. They're not a MUST at my work place at all, but it would be NICE to be able to access my documents on laptop & edit them there or during the way home rather than go to the office again for the PC.

Here’s the thing. The laptop I can afford is not better by performance against the gaming PC I can afford.

Why a gaming PC?

Because I am a whimsical little shit. I see a program and I want to master it for hobby's sake, or just cus I'm that curious. What if I one day want to pick up Blender or 3D sculpting or some shit just to try it?! It's happened before, and it continues happening. I jump from hyperfixation to hyperfixation like a ping pong ball. A laptop at the price range I want to buy won't be able to run complex games or Blender.

The childhood me, in my soul, wants that freaking PC. But my basic normal thought process is also aware if I get a gaming PC it may distract me from my work bcs... Well the PC will be able to do EVERYTHING. At least I'm self-aware enough of that.

Another thing is...

Durability & longer-life & upgradability

I can always upgrade the PC, I know my way around PC hardware. The PC will last me longer than the laptop probably will, and I can't upgrade the laptop.

But then I have no portability & always-accessibility the laptop offers, and if I get the laptop it will be for work, Photoshop & fic writing if I get used to it (I won't, I hate writing on laptops). Which is perfect, I'll be able to do my work even on the go, I can carry it with me, etc etc and I WON'T BE DISTRACTED.

So! I guess, vote bcs at this point I'll toss a goddamn coin! And before anyone asks, no I won't put the Macbook on the list, I like having my liver, thank you.

My biggest fear is that I've grown so used to the laptop interface if I buy a PC I'll just take time re-configuring my brain to use it, so what if I hate it? I have so many fears, and I don't want to waste my money and then go like "ugh, I'm disappointed". I'm used to reading on the laptop, typing on the laptop, working on the laptop, etc. I have all PC peripherals except a monitor but the IT stores are having huge discounts & sales now I can grab one from anywhere at this point so that doesn't concern me a lot.

This is a purchase I'll treat myself with for my birthday. I've spoken to friends, some say laptop, some say PC. Anyway, here is the poll. I'll put it for today.

I just love both but I have to pick, but I can't. Laptop is more familiar to me now than a PC 🤣 a PC would be dangerous cus I will def get the urge to play games instead of WORKING, but on the off hours it'd be a party 🤣

For info, the

PC would be

Processor: AMD Ryzen 5 5600

GPU: RX 6600

RAM: 16GB

That is the overall idea and I even found a custom pc builder in my country, too, if the prebuilt ones are too expensive, haha.

Laptop Models:

Lenovo Ideapad 3 with Ryzen 5, 16Gb RAM, Integrated Intel GPU

Lenovo V15 G5, also Ryzen 5, 16gb ram, integrated Intel GPU

[luvtonique]

Hot Take Time

Okay, I'm gonna make a hot take. I want y'all to understand that this is coming from a 34 year old man who draws furry porn for a living and has regularly interacted with well over a thousand customers in his life, as well as partaken in various online discussions, social media platform conversations, and I've been pseudo-canceled a few times, so there you go, now we know each other, run on sentence.

I need to get something off my chest and a lot of you (I'd very safely say over 95% of social media and people in the political system and even regular media) need to get this through your heads.

Here we go, ready? Say this out loud.

"Nobody is responsible for making you feel comfortable, except yourself."

That is something that people just don't seem to understand anymore. We're in this day-and-age of people doing everything in their power to convince other people to change how they act, change what they believe, change the words they can or can't use because they are "not comfortable" and they believe it will make the world a "better place" if other people adhere to a set of guidelines that these people have deemed are necessary for the comfort of the people setting the guidelines (at the expense, of course, of the comfort of the others who are being forced to walk on eggshells).

I don't know how so few of you have a basic moral of "Life isn't fair."

It isn't. Perfection is unattainable, and yet so many of you don't fucking shut the fuck up about how everyone "needs to act" or how other people need to "be better."

Shut the goddamn fuck up, holy shit.

Nobody needs to act different so that you can be comfortable, just fucking grow a spine, holy shit. I don't care WHAT they're doing. I don't care if they're transphobic, racist, sexist, misogynistic, LGBT activists, Trump supporters, Biden supporters, I literally do not give the slightest iota of a fuck. Do they make me uncomfortable? Of course they do. That's why I don't interact with them. For my own comfort I just don't. I do what makes me comfy, I eat pizza, I drink hot cocoa, I take a fucking nap, I take some painkillers for my joint pain, I do a weed gummy, I listen to music, I watch a movie, I sit outside and watch rain fall, I FUCKING RELAX.

I have rheumatoid arthritis and am in excruciating pain 24/7/365 and there is nothing I will ever be able to do about that. Do I complain about it? Sure I do. Do I appreciate it when people carry heavy things for me so I don't have to? Sure I do.

But do I stand there next to a heavy box waiting for someone else to pick it up and then go "EXCUSE ME. I HAVE ARTHRITIS. YOU SHOULD PICK THE BOX UP FOR ME. I SHOULDN'T HAVE TO TELL YOU TO PICK THE BOX UP" because I'm of some fucking delusion that everyone on earth has to cater to my disability?

FUCKING. NO.

You know why? Because I, unlike a fucking huge percentage of you all, understand that it is not everyone else's responsibility to cater to me and improve my level of comfort.

Especially if they're not getting paid to do that. If I were paying them, sure, that'd be fine. That's what maids are for, right? But they're not getting paid, and that's where it becomes a very bad thing.

Slavery.

But apparently y'all don't seem to understand that making people do special services or cater their behavior to you without any payment other than "not getting punished, canceled, attacked physically or screamed at" is literally textbook definition slavery. It is quite literally "Do this thing because I demanded it, and if you don't do it or if you do it in an unsatisfactory way, I will whip you."

Let's look at a hypothetical I made up myself.

Say there's a kid in school who, if they hear their name said out loud, attacks and bites the people who said that. There's been 15 incidents in a row, including two teachers being bit by this kid.

What's the solution?

Solution 1) Pull the kid out of school, contact their parents, suggest maybe therapy or putting them in special classes with a guardian of some sort, keep an eye on them, maybe they need to be medicated.

Solution 2) Tell the entire population of the school to stop saying the kid's name out loud and punish any kids who get bit because they broke the rule of catering to this psycho fucking bully.

How in the fuck do so many of you think Solution 2 is the correct solution? How the fuck do you think forcing 8 billion people to adhere to your specific demands via mass manipulation and forced control without any compensation other than "I won't bite you" is the correct course of action?

I have met people that literally their opening sentence is telling me how to talk to them and what things not to talk about around them, and when I asked "Why can't I talk about <completely mundane thing>" they literally had a fucking mental breakdown and got me banned from the Discord server I was in that they contacted me from.

And so many of you, SO MANY OF YOU will act like that's completely reasonable for them to have done and will say I AM THE BAD GUY for "DELIBERATELY ATTACKING THEM WHEN THEY ASKED ME NOT TO."

Holy fucking shit.

If you are so fucking bad off, so unhinged, that you have complete full fledged mental breakdowns over hearing a fucking word or because you scrolled past a text post you disagreed with or because someone voted for a politician you don't like, I'm sorry to say this but you desperately need to get your fucking head checked because that is NOT. FUCKING. NORMAL. BEHAVIOR.

"But Jay, being 'normal' is a social construct that-" SHUT UP.

Care for your own self, improve your own comfort and be happy with "Good enough" like the rest of the fucking world has been learning to do for fucking years, you actual fucking sociopathic manipulative shitfucks.

Thank you for reading.

~Jay (who has been labeled a transphobe for breaking up with a trans girlfriend after 9 years of her lying to him, manipulating him, forcing him to become trans out of emotional abuse, forcing him to attack his own mother, forcing him to pay for her HRT for multiple years and forcing him to be in a poly relationship while not letting him meet the other girlfriends she was fucking regularly while never meeting him IRL a single time. Yeah guess I shoulda stayed with her, I'm the bad guy for not continuing to let her abuse me because her abusing me was "making her more comfortable in the relationship." Listen. I hate to break this to you. But if you act like this, or defend these people, you are a fucking psychopath and I no longer give a shit what you think about me. You are a bad person.)

PS: I usually get people asking, when I make posts like this, "Jay, did something happen?" because y'all assume every time I wanna make a post like this, I just got out of a fight with someone and needed to vent. The truth this time is that this has been boiling up for the last 12 years I've been here on Tumblr, seeing more and more and more of this fucking manipulative sociopath behavior becoming more and more commonplace and accepted and more and more people are scared to speak out against it because if just one of you fucking psychos can damage our reputation and get us fired from our workspace, imagine what thousands of you could do. Well, I'm done catering to y'all. If you are my friend, I will gladly act a certain way around you to make you comfy because I always strive to make my friends, family members, ect. as comfortable as possible.

But if I haven't met you and I'm expected to cater to your comfort zone's rules before even saying hi to you? I'm just noping the fuck out of there because you are a sick, twisted pervert with a fucking power fetish who is blind to how much of a manipulative shitwad you are.

PPS: I know, the assumption here is "Jay's gonna start saying the gamer word to poke the beehive now! He's looking for a fight!"

No, I literally am not. Why would I? I'm trying to live and be comfortable why the shit would I go out of my way to rile the psychos up? I'm gonna just hang out with my friends and family and fans who love me and continue being a respectful person towards people who are respectful in return, rather than go out of my way to find horrible scumbag people and attack them deliberately because I wanna start a fight or some shit. Why would I wanna be in a fight? Why would I wanna deliberately troll or rile people up? That makes me feel bad. I was yelled at and beat by my father for 25 years why would I go try to get myself yelled at more? So take off the tinfoil hat, stop assuming I'm announcing I'm gonna be more openly disrespectful on purpose. I'm a respectful person, I don't attack people, I don't troll people, I don't do anything to deliberately harm anyone.

So I ask you very politely.

If anything you read here today has tarnished your opinion of me?

Please just block me and move on, holy shit. Do the right thing, make yourself more comfortable, stop interacting. Don't waste your time trying to "get through to me" just leave, it's not worth either of our time. Do that with everyone you strongly disagree with. If someone offends you so much you're shitting blood just block them. Why the fuck y'all gotta keep putting your heads in sharks' mouths and then complaining they keep bitin' you.

[truedairship]

Tell me more about your horse, please?

Ooohh boy never ask someone about their horse or they won’t shut up. Okay. I have no idea how much you know about horses, so I’ll try to keep the horse terms to a minimum.

Getting her is a bit of a funny story really. And kind of relevant. But background info: Us mere mortals can’t afford horses competing at the higher levels. Your only chance is basically to buy a promising youngster, train them yourself and hope that the stars align and that in a few years you can compete at the level you wanted. But most of those horses are quite expensive as well. Everybody wants those with good blood for a reason (blood = lineage, breed, how reactive yada yada).

I wasn’t even gonna buy a horse back then because I knew I would be moving abroad a year later, and I already had my pony. (Whom I had considered selling to afford a horse but whatever). Anyways, I helped my trainer break in her youngsters, they got an extended summer break after, and come winter she called me and asked if I wanted C. Because they didn’t get along. She had been a… special cookie… to break in, but an incredibly fun one. So yeah. I got a good horse real cheap because she’s crazy.

She’s… well, she’s a brat. A stubborn, explosive bitch that’s too damn smart for her own good and the biggest goddamn drama queen the world has ever seen. She’s also one of the most hardworking, powerful and talented horses I’ve ever ridden. Her teenage years were eventful to say the least, and it has been a lot of work to teach her some proper manners. I could probably fill a book with all the stupid stunts she’s pulled over the years. But at the same time, that’s kind of the charm. You never have a boring day with her.

Despite her attitude and the drama, she’s genuinely very kind. She just doesn’t show it if she doesn’t have to😅 But she never wants to drop her rider, I’ve only fallen off because we stumbled over an xc-jump and she almost did a somersault. And while she usually is too impatient to stand still, whenever there’s small kids around she won’t move a leg, but you can see her literally twitching because that is tiny human. Must not move. Tiny human fragile, stepping on will injure. She was also the one who accompanied youngsters on their first forest hacks at my old job, because, while hacking out usually is a rollercoaster ride of jumping away from invisible monsters hiding behind stones (thoroughbreds in my heart<3), when the kiddos came with, she was super cool and they could even run into her and she didn’t even bat an eye. Because they are her adopted siblings now and Ohana means family.

So yeah. She has quite the personality but this is already getting long. And when it comes to riding, well, attempting to avoid using technical terms, you can teach just about any horse to move fancy, but riding a horse that does it naturally is just something else. She does everything with such ease and such power. And she loves to learn new stuff, which to me is the most important part. I’d rather ride an eager horse with zero talent than an unmotivated one. Because having to force them to work… nope.

Generally with horses, if you have a bad day, it’s 50/50 whether you’ll have one of the nicest rides of your life because the horse notices that you’re not at your best, or you’ll have what feels like the worst one ever because nothing works and the horse decides that if you’re not gonna try your best, they won’t either. 9/10 times, she’s the first type (and considering that we sometimes can spend the entire warmup discussing whether the chair in the corner will eat us or not, that’s saying something)

That’s also kind of why I’m selling her. I don’t have the time to ride her everyday. So when I do, she’s super duper happy and energetic and it makes me feel all guilty that I can’t ride her more. And it breaks my heart every time she comes running towards me in the field all eager, only for me to give her a pat and a carrot then leave (makes me feel like a parent that doesn’t have time for their kid so they spoil them with toys instead😅). I usually give her a kiss on the nose as a goodbye, but lately she refuses to let me do it unless I have ridden her first. And no, that’s not an exaggeration.

Tl;dr: She’s a bitch, she’s amazing, she drives me crazy and she’s my best friend. Being allowed to ride her is an honour. (and unfortunately she’s aware of that😆)

[danganronpafan777]

Teruya Otori x Reader Comfort

A/n: Things haven’t been going great, and I had a pretty shitty day. Decided to write this since Teruya is my favorite character, and I wish I could help brighten someone else’s day. Idk, I hate how this turned out and might delete it later.

Welcome to part 4 of ideas that no one asked for; under the cut for depressing themes

"...Y/n?"

At the sound of your name, you approached the door. It was a tiring day. Every day just felt like an opportunity to prove your worth by being useful, and every day, you failed. A part of you yearned for company, while another just wanted to be left alone with your thoughts. 

They knocked at the door. You were snapped out of your thoughts and opened the door. 

You recognized the voice of course, he was your boyfriend after all. 

"Yeah, Teruya?"

Teruya held his hand behind his back and looked up at you with his green eyes that never failed to make you swoon. However, his mouth seemed to twitch, and his eyes seemed to scan you before he finally spoke,

"...Is everything okay?"

"...?"

Everything was fine. That's what you told yourself. That's how you got through every day. That's how you got through the tears and the stress. That's how you got past your sob story that no one would care to hear.

"I'm fine."

Teruya continued to stare at you. He blinked a few times before asking again,

"..A-Are ya sure? Ya seemed a lil'... off today." 

Huh... no one else seemed to have cared. So why did he? Why would someone as kind as him ever like you?

"I'm alright, what about you?"

"...I wanna talk 'bout you." 

"What about me?"

You were beginning to feel irritated. Why was he wasting his time with you? Teruya was the heir to a giant company, and loved his job just as much as he loved his friends. Why was he throwing it away for you?

Teruya was hesitant in his response, instead using his hand to open the door a bit more. Now the two of you were completely face to face. 

"..."

"..."

"Y/n, can I hold your hand?"

You were confused, but slowly held your hand out. Teruya took it, curling his fingers around your hand.

"What's wrong?"

"There's nothing wrong, Teruya."

"...You're not happy right now. And I want you to be happy Y/n."

"It's not that simple."

"I-I know...but... whenever I was sad, my pops would always stay with me and bring me som' candy, and it always made meh feel betta. So I wanna do the same fo' you!"

You couldn't help but chuckle at his expense as he brought out your favorite treats, placing them on a nearby table. He was sweet. It was only natural that he'd pity someone like you.

"I don' pity yah! I love you, Y/n!" He cried. Did you say that out loud? How stupid were-

Your thoughts were interrupted as your boyfriend threw his arms around you. Teruya nuzzled into your shoulder, the same way you would nuzzle his neck whenever you teased him. 

Was he crying too? You'd never forgive yourself if you made him cry.

"I love ya, Y/n... and I'm here for you. I jus' wan' ya to know dat..."

"....why?"

"Huh?"

"Why are you here for me? Don't you have better things to do?"

"...There's nothing more importan' than you, Y/n."

What isn't more important than you? What did he even see in you? Couldn't he see that..

"...I'm worthless." The words slipped out. You didn't even bother to stop them. It was like you wanted to say it but hated yourself for it after. Just like every other goddamn thing you did in your life.

"N-No! You're.. you're not worthless, Y/n... Why would you think that?? I- I love ya! S-So much! I think about ya every day and I don' kno' wha'd I'd do without ya!" Teruya cried, looking back up at you and holding you tighter. His words made you feel nothing but numb.

"..."

"...Y/n... have I evah told you how proud I am of ya? I'm thankful for every day I spend with ya, and our whole class wouldn't be happy without ya! W-We all love you, Y/n. I know it's hard righ' now, but I kno' you'll get through it! I'm here for you. Every step of the way." Teruya's fingers fiddled a bit with your own. He kept eye contact, even as his face was coated in a light blush.

Your eyes burned a bit with tears, but you just held him and didn't let go. The two of you sat like that for a while, and you began to tell him about your day. He stayed quiet through your rant, rubbing your back and giving your hand a small squeeze every few minutes.

Whether you knew it or not, you were everything to him. Even if you thought the world was against you, he was always by your side. Even if the world thought of you as one person, to him you were the world.

Art by @hydrabeebers on Pinterest

[silversoulstardust]

this is for @olyollyoxenfree , for encouraging my horny kazurei brainrot lol ily oly <3

have a 1.9k words of porn with barely any plot. MINORS DNI

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

Miri’s arrival in the household had thrown everything off its axis.

It wasn’t enough for her to make it difficult for Kazuki and Rei to carry out their duties as a hitman, or mess with their regular day to day life schedule as two childless men, which was, okay, not as normal as any other two childless men living together because they weren’t assassin with sporadic schedules and irregular sleeping patterns, but with Miri’s presence around the house since Christmas, it had been increasingly difficult for Kazuki to get laid.

Which was fine at first.

Because they were tired most of the time. They chased her around, made sure she was alive and well fed, enrolled her in the best school with the best of everything, providing for her from top to toe with expensive goods and high quality school materials, all the while trying to make ends meet because holy shit having a child was so goddamn expensive. And they were so, so tired. Whenever Kazuki was feeling horny during their down time and having had to choose between sleeping and fucking, nine out of ten times he chose sleep. And Rei shared the same sentiment.

But once all the dust had settled, he started feeling it again. He had an itch that only Rei could scratch. Just watching Rei shirtless on the treadmill with sweat glistening on the beautifully carved back muscles made his dick twitch, reminiscing all the scratches he used to leave on those pale skin. 

The problem was, Miri’s presence was constant. She would be at home whenever they were at home, so when they wanted to get down and dirty, she was always in the way. Miri would walk in on them in the kitchen, or barge into their bedroom after having a nightmare, or climb into the bathtub that was already too cramped up with two adults in it. At this point, Kazuki was worried to do more than just make out with Rei, because what if Miri caught them in the middle of the act, with him on his knees and Rei’s dick deep in his ass? That little girl would be scarred for life.

The opportunity, however, presented itself on one lazy Sunday afternoon, after they had a hefty meal for lunch. Miri was playing a video game against Rei and Kazuki was elbow deep in soap suds doing the dishes while humming to random songs that popped up in his brain. It wasn’t until it was too late that he realized the apartment was devoid of sound of carts crashing and random explosions, and his eyes flicked from the greasy plate in his hands to the video game screen paused on the TV, only soft background music playing from it. A beat later, he felt two strong arms wrapped around his waist, and a nose buried itself on the side of his neck, inhaling deep as Kazuki was pulled into a tight embrace from behind.

“Miri’s asleep,” breathed Rei against his skin, and it sent shivers down Kazuki’s spine. “Let’s do something productive.”

“I am being productive,” Kazuki resumed his washing, working through the pots now, keeping his voice steady. “And there’s a child sleeping literally five feet away from us.”

Rei rubbed his face against the side of Kazuki’s face like a docile cat, and somehow managed to get his hands under Kazuki’s shirt, skating his fingers against his ribs and chest. “I saw how you looked at me while I was running two days ago, Kazuki. I know you want me,” said Rei, oddly confident. “We’re hidden behind this big kitchen counter, she can’t see us from the couch. And she’s asleep. There’s that. Come on, I’ll be quiet. You just need to be quiet too.”

Kazuki turned his face slightly to look at Rei’s determined look, his eyebrows knitted in a twist. “Wait, are we doing it here?” he asked in a loud whisper, eyes bulging out almost out of its sockets. “You’re out of your fucking mind, Suwa Rei.”

Rei never truly smiled, not sincerely anyway, but there was a mischievous smirk pulling at the corner of his lips. His hand snaked down south to palm Kazuki over his sweatpants, his dick already half hard from having this conversation. The fact that Rei was plastered to his back and his hands roam free touching him all over was not helping. “You need to be more honest, Kazuki,” replied Rei, slowly moving his hand up and down, gently cupping his erection that was growing by the moment. “Just let me suck you off.”

A moment of silence stretched between them, then a heavy sigh followed. There was no way of talking Rei out of this whenever his mood strikes. “The magic word.”

“What?” Rei’s scowl deepened, confused.

“The magic word, Rei,” repeated Kazuki as he rinsed a small pot. “Say the magic word and I’ll let you do whatever you want.”

Rei let out a groan and rolled his eyes. “Please let me suck your dick. There. Happy?”

“Yup. Happy,” Kazuki grinned, placing a quick peck on Rei’s cheek. “So how are we doing this?”

Rei let his arms around Kazuki go and took a step back. He then pulled Kazuki back from the sink, but still close enough for him to work on the dishes if he hunched forward. With the flexibility of an acrobat, Rei slink down and kneeled between Kazuki’s legs, with his back and head against the cabinet door, and his face right in Kazuki’s crotch. Another shiver coursed through his body when Rei buried his face right in the pubic mound, inhaling it like it was the most intoxicating thing in the world, feeling Rei’s breath warming up his skin. From where Kazuki was standing though, he couldn’t see what Rei was doing, because his view was obscured by the apron.

“I can’t see you,” whined Kazuki, adjusting his stance so it was optimum for Rei to fuck his dick with his mouth.

“Then remove the apron,” retorted Rei, as he pulled Kazuki’s sweatpants and let it pool around his ankles. 

“But I’m doing dishes,” but Kazuki’s complaint went unheard because in one quick swoop he felt wetness enveloped his length, much like a sucker punch to the gut that threw him off his game, causing him to buck forward. He dropped the pan he was holding back into the sink, thankfully the clatter was muffled by the clogged up suds water. There was a pause in Rei’s movement, and Kazuki froze in position too, waiting to see if the noise had awoken Miri from her afternoon nap. Moments passed, but no other sound filled the space other than soft background music of Wario Cart and small running tap water in the sink. 

Kazuki moved his pelvis to let Rei know it was safe for them to continue. Rei took the hint, taking Kazuki’s now raging hard cock deeper and deeper into his mouth, inch by inch, until he could feel Rei’s nose buried in his pubes. Kazuki finally had the opportunity to appreciate the velvety sensation of Rei’s warm and wet mouth, the push and pull on his erection hitting at the back of Rei's throat in an embarrassingly sloppy rhythm. It had been too long since they last had this. Kazuki had to bite his lower lip hard to clamp a loud moan that was threatening to rip out of him from how good he felt, with molten orgasm coiling at the base of his stomach bidding its time to spill. 

He was completely lost in the ecstasy that none of the dishes were done. There were still a couple of pots left in the sink, submerged in the soapy water untouched. Every time he attempted to wash up, Rei was pulling stunts with his genitals; teasing the slit with his tongue, or cradling his scrotums and sucking it like a treat in his mouth, or simply deepthroating himself with Kazuki’s raging cock. He could feel Rei’s satisfactory hums and moans, feeling the vibration from the back of his throat through his dick. It took everything Kazuki had to stand tall and not cave from the overwhelming  sensation, hands tight against the edge of the sink, knuckles white.

A sudden movement from the couch took Kazuki by surprise. He instinctively crowded Rei against the cabinet, drawing his legs shut to cover his presence, even though Miri was on the other side of the kitchen on the couch and couldn’t possibly see where Rei was. There was a punctuated groan that escaped Rei as the movement shoved Kazuki’s hard cock deep inside his mouth. 

Miri rubbed her eyes, voice thick with sleep and eyes still half-lidded. She took a stock around the apartment and asked, “Where’s papa Rei?”

“Papa Rei went out to the convenience store to get something,” Kazuki managed, keeping his voice and breathing even. Rei was adjusting himself, probably not wanting to suffocate to death from a dick in his windpipe, head bobbing away and still sucking Kazuki off at a time like this. Unbelievable. “Go back to sleep, Miri, and when you wake up again he’ll definitely come back with your favorite pudding.”

For a moment it looked like Miri wanted to protest, but the gravity pull over her eyelids were much stronger than her will to stay awake. She managed to raise a thumbs up before slumping back down on the couch, and it was quiet again moments later.

Rei took the opportunity to ramp up his movement. With one hand he gripped the base of Kazuki’s cock and moved it in tandem with his mouth, up and down, up and down, up and down in crescendo until Kazuki’s knees buckled and he whites out, coming inside Rei’s mouth with Rei’s name falling out of his lips. 

It felt like they just completed an intense mission, what they just accomplished. Kazuki finally threw in the towel and shut the faucet, giving up on dish washing to sit on the floor next to Rei. It was only after that he realized Rei was stroking himself with one hand as he was sucking him off, and he was on the verge of spilling his load. Kazuki took it upon himself to lend a helping hand. With a few strokes and kisses on the corner of Rei’s jaw, thick ropes of cum splattered against Rei’s chest and the kitchen floor.

They sat quietly next to each other, steadying their breath. Kazuki removed the remnant of his cum that was dripping from Rei’s chin using his hand and wiped his fingers against Rei’s already sullied shirt. They exchanged a gaze, staring deep into each other’s eyes before Kazuki laughed and a small smile cracked open on Rei’s face. 

“You’re a freak,” said Rei, amused. “You got off getting sucked out in the open apartment with other people in it.”

Kazuki scrunches up his face, mockingly offended. “Says the freak who suggested we fuck in the kitchen with our daughter sleeping five feet away from the counter.”

“That was a close call,” Rei mused. They both leaned back against the counter, letting a comfortable silence settled between them. Kazuki may be imagining it, but it sounded like a small huff of laughter escaped Rei’s throat, and it sounded really sweet. “Looks like we’re gonna need Kyu-chan babysitting service for this particular need after all.”

[marblesarelost]

Okay, let's play a game.

Somebody out there please give me about $50K. I have to live on it for a year. Pay all my bills, etc.

In that year, I promise you, I could write a book. Hell, I could write a book through all three drafts, and probably be mid-second draft another by the time the year was up.

That's not nothing, friends and neighbors. Do you know how hard it is to write a goddamn book? It's fecking well HARD. I know. I've done it. Once to publish (it wasn't very good, but I learned from it and it's since been taken down once I actually realized how bad it was), once in fanfic (Dark Wings) and first/second drafted another (Raven's Flight).

Fuckin' news flash. People LOVED Dark Wings. And that was a fanfic, written in three weeks, no beta, no real drafting. Pretty much straight stream of consciousness. I fell behind on real life work, I fell behind in everything in my life, I ended up staying up three days straight the last few chapters so i could just get it done (and high DNR b/c hallucinations SUCK).

60K plus words. Beginning, middle, end. Did it need polish and work? Oh, yes. Desperately. It was stream of consciousness, after all.

Hell, for that matter, even for how much it sucked? OSaC had 4.5 star reviews on Amazon. Niche market, sure. But 4.5 stars and about $800 worth of sales. Not great for a first book, didn't even cover my costs (this was in 2012, cover art was EXPENSIVE) but 4.5 stars over about three years of it being up and available on Amazon.

So give me a year with enough money to pay my bills? And I can promise a really GOOD book. And like I said, probably at least halfway through the second.

Because people WANT to work. We do. People don't want to just sit around and swim in money. We WANT to work. We just want to work doing the things we're interested in, the things we love, the things that call to us. For me, that's writing. For someone else, it's welding. Someone else, it's learning how water systems work.

That's what we're meant to do. Pursue the things we love, the things that make our hearts sing. That's what Universal Basic Income could do for us.

[sunfaggot]

Quick Travis and Copper word vomit. I did not check this for mistakes lmfao

“The neighbor's having a party,” Began Travis. He played games with his food; spaghetti twirling like a dance, meatball stabbed through the fork.

Tomato sauce accidentally fell on Travis's lap and he exclaimed in surprise. “Oh, damnit!” Irritation played on his voice, but his face crinkled with a smile as he looked up at his husband; just boyfriend only a few years ago. “I just washed these...”

Copper snorted and handed him a napkin. He was twirling his own pasta and raised it up like he was showing up. Look at me, said his playful grin, I'm doing this way better than you are and I haven't spilled a single drop.

Their changes from boys to men was made more evident then. When they were just boys, Travis cried at the sight of his expensive pants being dirted by just a speck of dirt. Like a hand may reprimand him for it. Now he only regarded messes with mild irritation.

Copper, however, had grown more playful over the years. He was no longer the boy with bloodied knuckles, bruised-covered arms, and a cruel snarl on his face. He was a man living in a neighborhood that didn't bite him when he cried and tried to explain why.

“Neighbor's having a party?” He said, realizing Travis wanted a conversation. “Which one?”

“The one.”

“Yeah? Which one is that?”

“The one that's always inviting us to everything... The bakery, the park, the shop, the hidden queer bar twice...”

“I'm gonna need a name, babe.”

“You know her!” Travis exasperated. “She's the one with the black hair and brown eyes and colorful lipstick. The colorful lipstick woman– No, don't laugh! Don't- Hey! ”

“We've known this woman for months, Travis!” Copper cackled and didn't care that it sounded hideous. “Months. I remember, you invited her to our house and told me you've introduced yourselves, that you–” spoken in a tone mocking of his husband “– hoped you'd get to be friends for a long time.”

Travis's face flushed with embarrassment.

“This is awful! You can't make fun of me like this.” He showed his ring. “We're married.”

“We're married.” Copper put his hand against Travis's, their rings clinking together. “I get a pass.”

“It's not my fault.” Travis sounded like a child to both of their ears. Despite their argumentive tone, and the flushing of Travis's place, there lingered a sense of playfulness between them. The smile never left Copper's face. “I've always been awful with names. You know, I called you Davies for so long back in Adam's Creek because I couldn't remember your first name for the life of me.”

That was true.

Travis had never called him by name when they weren't close. It was only when they'd gotten closer that Travis would call him Copper; spoken with a warmth in his tone no one ever had before.

Before that discovery, Copper always thought it was just hostility disguised as respect. The way rich snobs turned their noses at you in Adam's Creek and either referred to you by surname, or didn't at all.

Travis tapped on the table. “I just wanted to ask if you wanted to go... What even is her name, anyway?”

“Sara.”

“Just Sara?”

“Yeah, without the H.”

“You even remember the spelling...”

Lightheartedly, “How did you even survive in Adam's Creek?”

“With you by my side.”

“Cute."

“Unfortunately, you make fun of me too much... Sara without an H... Ridiculous, it's so simple and forgettable. Of course I'd forget it.”

“You forget a woman's name and then you make fun of it! I've married a goddamn stranger.”

“Sara without an H. What if I was Travis without the S? What if you were Copper without the R? Travi and Coppe, you know them? They're that gay couple down the street. Don't make fun of their names, okay? They'll burst into tears.”

“Coppe is going to that party just to tell Sara without an H that you're making fun of her.”

Travis looked terrified.

“Don't.”

[br-uwu-cewayne]

I think pretty much as soon as they can officially (in capability, rather, not numerically) outnumber Bruce, the Batkids institute an official Old Man Policy.

Because they can't stop Batman from pulling overtime completely. They know this.

BUT.

For every night he works in a row past three,

("Now hang on," Bruce had whined. "The average work week is five days, I should at least be able to-" "Literally every study has rebuked that, and also quit your CEO job then.")

he is conscripted to a middle-of-shift nap on the couch in Gordon's office of at LEAST an hour.

It doesn't have to be smack in the middle, he's not expected to drop everything and head back to the center of town, just.

At some point in the shift (barring extreme or extenuating circumstances, confirmed as such by a majority batfam and/or justice league vote) he is contractually obligated to find a winding down point to pause and regroup or let someone else handle for a bit.

He of course, hates this.

Gordon's office couch was actually the compromise - the kids wanted him to come back to the manor or the tower to rest, but he put his foot down about needing to be somewhere he could be reached immediately and hop right back into action, and the GCPD was the perfect midpoint for that.

He's sheepishly explaining this to the Commissioner by the floodlight, flanked on either side by his various companions, and Jim throws his head back and just laughs.

He's wiping the last tear from his eye when, from out of nowhere, betrayal.

Nightwing wheels around on him, wagging a finger. "Don't think you're exempt from this rule either, old man. We've been clocking those triple shifts."

"Now you wait just a goddamn minute, son, no way I'm hell am I gonna agree to-"

So now Batman and Jim routinely have to schedule alternating shifts on the sofa in the Commissioner's GCPD corner office. Bruce intended to stubbornly tough it out on the ratty old couch until the kids felt bad for him and caved, but when they proved unrelenting (and after the first time both men were just so damn exhausted they collapsed on it together, and paid for it the next day in various aches and pains) he succumbed and bought a nice top of the line sofa.

With the touch button footrests and fully reclining massagey backs.

And okay maaaaaaaybe both he and Jim are starting to look forward to their allotted relaxation time. And maaaaaybe there's some cucumber slices and gel facemasks in one of the refrigerated armrest beer cooler compartments for when their timing lines up and they want to have a spa kvetching session.

But the kids don't need to know that.

In fact.

"No, Jim, I'm serious. As far as they're concerned, we hate this. It's unnecessary. It's insulting. The moment they think we aren't grumbling about it enough, they're gonna start getting suspicious. And soon as Dick finds our stash? You can kiss it goodbye."

"...you're still not over him using all your good conditioner, are you?"

"It was limited edition."

"Hey wait a minute. Why don't they enforce 'naptime' for Alfred, too? He works two jobs, and he's older than us!"

"One, I'd like to see them try and make that man do anything. Two, that man has never actually butlered for me a day in his life."

"...but he's always dusting around whenever I've been over-"

"Yeah no the snoop just grabs the duster and pretends to be busy so he can eavesdrop. We have a cleaning service that comes by for all the manor rooms, and the world's most expensive Roomba for the Batcave."

"-but... but your laundry-"

"Throws it all out at the end of the week and buys replacements. Unlike us, Al actually sleeps during the day."

[fuck-kirk]

Sometimes it just blows my mind how some people get pets they’re not prepared for/proceed to not take responsibility for...some people act like pets are just some cute little object to decorate your home or something. I’ll never understand ppl getting pets they’re not prepared for and then just getting rid of them like they’re trash.

Like, having a pet, any pet, is serious work. It’s so ingrained in me to include my pets in all my decisions, even small ones, and to be thinking about them constantly. This occurred to me earlier when I was shopping, bc with many of the purchases (for my home)I make I have to think “okay, is this cat/dog/ferret proof?” And if it’s not, I simply don’t buy it no matter how much I want it. Pets are dirty, they’re messy, cleaning up after them is a chore. You have to dedicate hours of your life to cleaning up after them, spending time with them, training them etc. They won’t always do what you want, sometimes they break stuff. Their care and food is expensive. So many things you have to be prepared for, no pet is “easy” especially not fish or reptiles, as so many people believe.

The misinformation and irresponsiblity regarding pets sometimes makes me so goddamn angry. If you go out of your way to get a pet, any pet, it is your RESPONSIBILITY to do anything and everything in your power to take care of them, and keep them healthy and happy. No pet is an “easy pet” every pet requires time, money, and patience. They are not disposable, they are family.

[scuttling]

If I Should Linger

Fandom: Criminal Minds Pairings: Aaron Hotchner/Female Reader Word Count: 6,979 (what is wrong with me??) Tags: 18+, NSFW, Best Friend's Dad Hotch, Confident reader, Flirting, Oral sex, Protected sex, Dirty talk, A little angst with a happy ending Summary: Your best friend stands you up at the bar, but it actually turns into the best night you've had in a long time—maybe the best night of your life. Unfortunately, things don't stay uncomplicated for long... *Requested by @hotforhotchner11 Link to A03 or read below! “I can’t believe you stood me up to have sex with a frat boy,” you hiss into your phone from your seat at the bar. Your best friend Julie—better known as Jay—is on the other end, and she’s completely ruining your plans for the evening at later than the last minute. She’s never on time for anything.

“He’s not a frat boy… yet. He’s rushing.” You pick up your gin and tonic to take a sip, but her comment makes you pause.

“He’s rushing? How old is he?” The breath she blows out before she answers tells you everything you need to know. Goddamn cradle robber.

“Twenty? Or, almost twenty.”

“Oh, you nasty girl. He’s nearly ten years younger than us.” At 28, you literally could not imagine being interested in a 20 year old. Anyone under 25 is practically an infant; what would you talk about?

“The pussy wants what it wants, babe. It’s more fun when they barely know what they’re doing.” Then again, you figure, she isn’t exactly doing much talking.

“That’s gross, Jay.”

“Is it any grosser than your thing for older guys? You’d fuck my dad if I let you anywhere near him, which is exactly why I don’t.”

“I would not fuck your dad—actually, what does he look like?” She groans down the line and you laugh. “I’m kidding. I’m trying to fuck someone’s dad tonight, but not yours.” You hear a choked laugh from beside you and you glance over at, objectively, one of the most attractive men you’ve ever seen: he’s Black, bald, muscular, with a neatly trimmed goatee and a killer smile, and apparently your thirst for older men amuses him. You smile back. “Jay, I have to go; I’m embarrassing myself in public.”

“Okay, and what else is new? Bye!” When she hangs up, you lock your phone and turn to face the man at the bar.

“Sorry about that. Sometimes I forget people are actually listening in places like these; there’s so much talking it’s all kind of white noise to me.”

“It’s kind of my job to listen to what no one else does, but I forget to turn it off sometimes,” he says, and no, that’s not intriguing or anything. “So you’re into older guys?” he asks with a raised eyebrow, and you lean in with your chin in your hand, elbow on the bar.

“Almost exclusively. You don’t look old enough to be someone’s dad, but I’d probably make an exception.” He laughs again; he doesn’t have a drink, so maybe he’s waiting for the bartender, but you sip yours.

“I’m flattered, but taken. I have a friend who’s probably your type; he doesn’t do one night stands, though. He doesn’t really do anything. We’re trying to loosen him up.” You hum thoughtfully, take a cursory glance around the room.

“I happen to be great at loosening older men up. Is he here?” He shoots you a smile, looks at you like you kind of amaze him.

“You don’t beat around the bush, do you?” You raise an eyebrow.

“Would you, if you weren’t taken?” He nods a little, like you’ve got a good point, and you both laugh. “Yeah, it’s a double standard. If you can walk up to a woman and ask her if it hurt when she fell from heaven, why can’t I walk up to an older man and ask if he believes in love at first sight, or if I should walk by again?”

“That tired line would not work on my friend,” he says, and you grin.

“I think you’d be surprised. But, you know him better, so why don’t you just invite me back to your table, since I got stood up by my friend and I’m all alone, and let me do my thing?” You swirl your straw in your drink, try to look flirty, and he leans in on his elbow like you did before.

“You know what? What the hell. If nothing else, he gets some attention from a pretty girl and maybe it boosts his confidence.” You smile—you like this guy already.

“Aw, you think I’m pretty?” He rolls his eyes, and then the bartender presents him with his drinks. You take two—one is a neat bourbon, that has to belong to the older man friend—and follow him to his table while he just shakes his head.

“Looks like you brought back more than drinks,” a pale woman with dark hair and bangs says with a smile when the two of you approach the table. He hands her one of the beers, takes the cocktail from your hand and gives it to a petite blonde with fair skin.

“Her friend bailed on her and we got talking at the bar, so I invited her to come sit with us.” You introduce yourself to the group, and the friend Derek mentioned might be your type? Egregious understatement.

He’s everything you like in an older man: polite, well-spoken, handsome, clean shaven, with a great head of thick, dark hair—he’s wearing an expensive watch, a goddamn suit, a tailored suit that fits him perfectly, and if Jay were here, you’d be catching her attention and panting like a dog, with your hands up near your face.

To someone without your more refined palate for older gentlemen, he may look like an average white guy in his early fifties, but you have to look down to make sure your panties haven’t dropped involuntarily. Just in case.

“Is this seat taken?” you ask, gesturing to the one next to him, and he shakes his head, pulls it out for you before he sits back down—yes, he stood when you approached the table. Manners, check. You’re trying not to drool.

You smooth out your skirt before you take your seat—you always dress for the man you want to attract, and tonight is no exception, so you’re wearing a black lace dress and nude heels; the dress is fitted, but not clingy, and not too short, and you know the right kind of man will find it appealing. So far, your handsome potential love interest Aaron seems to be looking respectfully; that may change, but you’re happy to see it, for now.

“So Derek mentioned you’re all in the FBI; are you the boss? You look like the boss,” you say with a playful smile, and Aaron looks a little nervous when he nods, makes eye contact.

“Until someone decides to overthrow me,” he jokes, deadpan, and your smile gets brighter. Dry sense of humor, check.

“I’d like to see them try; I definitely sense that you can handle your own.” Out of the corner of your eye, you can see Derek hiding a smile behind his hand. He knows you’re flirting, even if no one else does, and another reason you hope to take Aaron home is so you can wipe that smile off his face—but mostly because Aaron’s gorgeous, and you know it would be a very good time for the both of you.

“Let’s play darts,” Derek says to the other people at the table—you can’t remember their names at the moment, all your attention focused on Aaron—and they get up and walk over to the board, so it’s just the two of you.

Aaron clears his throat. “Thank you. What do you do for work?”

“I’m in publishing; a copy editor. Mostly Tom Clancy type action novels, and romance novels. Lots of heaving bosoms and cries of overwhelming pleasure, you know?” You take a sip of your drink through the straw, looking over at him as innocently as you can. He’s a little flushed; you’re a huge fan of that look on a man. “Do you ever read romance novels?”

“Uh, no. Not my genre.” He takes a sip of his drink, and you watch his mouth while he does.

“Not mine either. When you edit enough of them, they become wholly unsexy… and they never compare to real life.” You flick your eyes over his body, briefly but not subtly, and he gives you a glance back. Your heart beats a little faster in your chest. “So what do you like to read? Wait, may I guess?” you ask, setting a hand on his arm. He nods, and you carry on, leaning just a little closer. “So I’m going to guess you’re a fan of the classics, novels you’ve read a hundred times. I think you would tell me your favorite is To Kill a Mockingbird,” you say, tapping against his sleeve, “and maybe intellectually it is, but you actually feel more when you read Moby Dick. I bet your heart yearns for adventure—not that life as a crime solving FBI agent is boring, but it's all too real. Moby Dick is the perfect blend of adventure and fantasy for a man like you.”

“You’ve known me for all of ten minutes,” he says with a raised eyebrow, and you shrug and take a drink.

“True. But am I right? Or close?” He smiles, the first full, unguarded expression he’s given tonight, and you feel awesome for making that happen.

“My favorite book is Moby Dick. I make a point to read it at least twice a year. You’re good.”

“Thank you.” You pull back, take your hand off of his arm; you’ve laid the groundwork for touching, and he’ll have to make a move if he wants more. “People often tell you a lot they don’t intend to, and books are my thing, so it’s easy for me to connect the dots. I recommend books to people as a kind of party trick.” You stir your drink, and he shifts a little, sitting closer.

“Have you disappointed many people with your recommendations?”

“Oh, I make it a personal mission to never leave anyone disappointed,” you say, your voice low and sweet like honey. His eyes move to your mouth. You sweep your tongue over your bottom lip. “Derek said your friends are trying to get you to loosen up; can I ask why?” He flicks his eyes up to yours, frowns a little, like he’s not sure that’s something he’s ready to tell you; ultimately, he just sighs.

“I’ve been divorced for five years, alone for five years. They think it’s time I…” He trails off, shrugs.

“Get back in the saddle?” you offer, and he laughs lightly, agrees. “Is that something you’re interested in? You shouldn’t feel pressured into it if you’re not ready.” You might want to sleep with him so badly it’s sickening, but not at the expense of his well-being.

He exhales deeply and lifts his arm to rest it on the back of your chair; you want to smile, but the conversation doesn’t call for it, so you hold off.

“I think I’m ready, but how do you really know?” You turn toward him a little more, lean against his arm; it feels easy, comfortable, almost like a real date and not you flirting like your life depends on it and hoping to get a bite.

“I think you should wait to meet someone who makes you feel a spark, and then explore it. Maybe it burns hot, but doesn’t last. Maybe it’s a slow burn. Maybe it’s a bit of both. I think when you’re really ready to put yourself out there, you’ll know.” He holds your gaze, wets his lips, takes a breath.

“You’ve been flirting with me.” You do smile a little, then.

“Yes, Aaron, I have.”

“Did Derek put you up to it?”

“Absolutely not.” You touch his arm again, gentle, lean in close. “I’m genuinely interested in you. You’re everything I’m attracted to in a man.” His smile doesn’t touch his eyes.

“Old and uptight?”

“Older, and kind, and capable of having a conversation about more than just sports and money, and handsome. Very handsome.” You lift your fingers from his arm, brush them through his hair over his temple. “I feel a spark. Do you?”

“Yes,” he breathes, and when you set your hand on the table, he covers it carefully with his. His hand is big, warm, softer than you’d expected, and you’re met with the sudden urge to feel it all over your body. “I feel a spark.”

“Good. Do you want to come home with me tonight? No strings attached—just to get you back in the saddle,” you say with a tilt of your head, and he nods.

“I want to.” You’re certain that the smile that crosses your face is softer, inviting, but you get the feeling he won’t kiss you while his friends could be watching. You’re actually surprised he’s touching you so openly.

“Okay, so why don’t you give me a ride home? I was going to have to call an Uber, since my friend didn’t show up, but you’re a gentleman, aren’t you? You wouldn’t let me do that.” He catches on to what you’re saying, the excuse you’re giving him to give his friends, makes a noise of understanding.

“Of course. I wouldn’t rest not knowing you made it home safely.”

“I’m not sure how much rest you’ll be getting tonight,” you murmur, and you rest your free hand on his thigh under the table, squeeze a little. He’s very firm, and you kind of melt. “But that’s a very sweet sentiment, Aaron. Are you committed to staying here much longer?”

“Not at all. Would you like to leave now?” You hold his gaze for a moment, want to be really sure about this; you’re no expert on body language, but you’ve been here before, and he really does look less tense than when you first showed up, more comfortable and open. All really good signs.

“Yes, please.” He squeezes your hand, then stands, smooths out his jacket, and tells you he’ll be right back while he goes to say goodbye to his friends. You stand too, finish what’s left of your drink, and pull out your phone to text Jay.

Taking home the most incredible man. Guess I don’t need my wingwoman after all.

J: Tell grandpa I said he better treat you right.

Please. He’s not that old. If anything, you can call him daddy. :P

J: You can call him daddy. Have fun ;) The ride to your apartment starts out quiet, but you try to fill it by asking Aaron more about himself. You keep your hands on him while you chat, leaning as close to him as you can while wearing your seatbelt, running your hand up and down his leg, over his arm while he shifts gears. You know it’s turning you on, and you’re fairly certain it’s turning him on as well.

You learn more about his job, that he basically solves crimes by judging people, which is kind of funny; before that, he was a lawyer, which you can definitely see. He has one child, a daughter who’s upset with him because of the divorce (someone’s dad, check), and a brother who lives in New York, no living parents. It’s more information than you usually get out of someone you plan to sleep with, but you really do like him, and since he’s not the one night stand type, you think more conversation is the right way to go.

He asks about you too, about your family and your job and your lame friend who bailed on you, and when he arrives outside your building, parks in the lot, you unbuckle your seatbelt and lean in closer, smoothing a hand over his waist.

“I’m really glad I met you tonight,” you breathe, looking up at him, and he puts his hand on your cheek and you meet for a slow, easy kiss. “Hmm. I knew you’d be good at that.”

“I knew you’d be good at that, too. You have the most beautiful lips.” He brushes his fingers over them, and you take his hand, bring two of them into your mouth to suck softly. His breath hitches, and you feel your panties getting damp. God, he’s gorgeous. “Let’s go inside,” he whispers, and you slip his fingers out, drop a hand to his lap where he’s—oh, so perfectly hard it’s unreal.

“We could get started out here, have a little adventure,” you say playfully, fully prepared for him to say he’d rather not, but he just licks his lips and looks at you like you’re going to be the death of him, but at least he’ll die happily. That’s another look you’re a huge fan of on an older man.

You undo his belt, his button and his zipper, pull his cock out of his pants; he’s of average length, thick, makes your mouth water, and you lean in to use that to your advantage, getting him wet with your saliva and then stroking him in your hand. You look up at his face, and he’s got his eyes closed, head back against the headrest—so fucking sexy. You reach your free hand under his shirt, where he’s hairy, strong, but a little soft, just the way you like it, and he opens his eyes and pulls you close for a kiss that’s a bit harder than the last.

“You’re absolutely perfect,” he sighs against your lips, and you press closer for another kiss. You almost regret the adventure comment now, because you want to undress him, and touch him, feel him all over, but you’ll just have to be patient. (That’s never been your strong suit.)

“Are you kidding? You are… everything. If I could build a dream man, he would literally be a copy of you.” He makes a sharp, self-deprecating sound, and you lean down to get him wetter, move your hand a little faster. “I’m completely serious. I’m a little upset I’ve been going to that bar for so long and our paths never crossed.” One of his hands moves to your hair, and he pulls you close for a kiss; he’s ready to come, you can tell, and you want him to more than anything, so you cover his hand with yours and dip your head, sucking his dick like you’re desperate for it. When it comes to Aaron, you’re kind of desperate for everything.

“Oh, god. That feels so good, baby.” You moan at the pet name—is there anything better in the world than an older man calling you baby? Maybe just Aaron specifically calling you baby—and he tightens his fingers in your hair while you glide over him, tight and wet, until he comes in your mouth.

You swallow it down, pull off breathless, and then swipe your tongue over him so he’s clean enough that you can tuck him back into his pants. You look up at him from his lap, and he’s panting too, rubs his fingers over your lips, your chin, down your throat. You’re desperately horny now, soaking wet, and when you shift to sit up, he catches you for a deep, steamy kiss, and that does nothing to help your situation.

“Thank you,” he murmurs, and ugh, your heart flutters. Seriously, who created this man? He’s incredible. “Now let’s go inside so I can make you come, too.”

“Definitely,” you agree with a nod, and you kiss him once more before pulling back and climbing out of the car, straightening yourself up. He does the same, then walks over to you, takes your hand, and follows you into your apartment.

Sex with Aaron is… talk about adventure. He fucks like—well, like he hasn’t done it in over five years. As soon as you get inside the door, he gets on his knees, pulls your panties down, lifts your skirt up, and eats your pussy with such enthusiasm you come with your hands in his hair, rocking against his face, in less than three minutes. Seeing him down on the ground in the full suit, just going to town on you, is not an image you’ll soon forget, that’s for sure.

After that, the two of you stumble to your bedroom, hands all over each other, tugging at zippers and discarding clothes—he has you keep your shoes on, and that makes you feel slutty like a porn star, and super hot—and you kiss, touch, moving your hands all over each other's bodies until he’s hard again. You stay in missionary, and after he slips on a condom from your bedside table, he slides into you, kisses your lips and your neck and your shoulders while he rolls his hips against yours.

It’s slow and sensual at first, and you drag your nails lightly across his back, tilt your head when he nips at your throat.

“Aaron, oh. You feel so good,” you breathe, scraping your fingers through his hair, and his thrusts get a little deeper, his kisses a little rougher.

“You’re incredible. So gorgeous.” He moves a hand to your breast, massages it while your bodies work; you hitch your legs up higher, moan, and pull him closer, your hands on his body, and he fucks into you more frantically, humping against you hard, wildly. You’ve never really gotten fuck you like an animal, but that’s kind of what he’s doing, and you’re into it, clinging to him, pushing into his thrusts like it’s possible to take him deeper than you are now.

God, he’s going to spoil you, ruin you for all other men. You’re going to have your best sex at 28 and then be chasing this feeling the rest of your goddamn life. It’s both amazing and horribly unfair.

“Yes, Aaron, yeah. Fuck me hard, fuck me deep.” He groans, pounds inside you, moves his hand from your breast to the back of your neck and stares down into your eyes while he absolutely destroys you. You come clenching around him, pulling his hair and digging your nails into his shoulder, and his mouth comes crashing down for a kiss while he thrusts through it and then stutters, his orgasm right behind yours.

You sag against the pillow behind your head, and he puts his weight on you, hand still clamped around the nape of your neck, and breathes hot against your throat.

You stare up at the ceiling, catching your breath, and thank fucking god Jay stood you up tonight. Aaron is very sweet, kissing you and holding you, murmuring against your skin, and the two of you go to the bathroom, get cleaned up, and then raid your kitchen for snacks, talking easily and laughing. He doesn’t look like he’s about to bolt, which you’d been a little worried about; in fact, he actually suggests taking your snacks back to bed, jokes about not getting any crumbs on your white sheets. Never one to kick a man out abruptly after sex, and especially not a man like Aaron, you agree, and you end up in bed again, which means…

Another frantically torn condom wrapper later, and you’re on your stomach, your nipples rubbing against the sheets. Aaron’s hands are on your ass while you work yourself on his cock, rolling your body, moaning desperately like you aren’t already two orgasms deep; his dick hits just right, and between that and the nipple stimulation you’re coming fast, bucking hard against him so he’ll follow.

“Fuck, baby, coming already?” He tightens his grip, slams inside you, plants one hand on the bed to change his angle a bit. “Let’s try for another; your body is so perfect, built for sex, built for me.” You groan, roll your eyes back because his dirty talk is hitting the spot, and the two of you fuck together, noisy and eager and hot, until he shudders, squeezes your ass hard and starts to come.

You’re so close, right on the edge, and you sound wild because of it, your moans high, whimpering, your fingers digging into the sheets.

“Yes, yes, don’t stop, please don’t stop,” you beg, grinding against him, and he puts both hands hard on your hips, rails you into the bed.

“I’m not stopping until you come for me. Come for me,” he murmurs, and he wraps one hand around the front of your body, rubs your clit, and you climax, squeezing your eyes shut, seeing stars. You moan his name, drop your hand to cover his where it rests against your pussy, and this time when his body drapes across your back like a weighted blanket, you sigh and close your eyes.

He kisses your back and shoulders, runs his big hands over your hips and ass, then slides off and guides you to the edge of the bed, lifts you up and carries you to the bathroom. You think absently that you could get used to being treated this well, and you must say it, because he presses a kiss to your lips and whispers, “I will if you let me.”

There’s a little talk in bed, after you’re cleaned up and cozy beneath the comforter, about going on a real date; Aaron seems nervous, like he thinks you won’t go for it, that all you wanted was this night of sex. And yes, while that’s typically your MO, something about Aaron is different. He makes you want more, things like dates and picnics and sweet lovemaking at night and kisses—all the kisses, everywhere, all the time.

You ask him to stay, and he promises he will, and you fall asleep in his arms. It’s the best you’ve felt in a really long time.

You wake up to Aaron’s sleepy, handsome face, and you kiss and smile into each other’s lips, because last night was great, but this is even greater. Your plan is to take a shower together and then go out for breakfast, but there’s a knock at your door just as you’re planning to step in.

“You go ahead, I’ll catch up,” you tell him with a kiss, and you pull on your robe and peer through the peephole, then pull the door open. “Well, well; now you decide to show up.”

Jay steps in with a box of doughnuts and two cups of coffee, looking properly shamed.

“I know, I’m a horrible friend. I broke the slut code: stay slutty, but never at the expense of your best girl.” You crack a smile, because you could never really be mad at her, but especially not after last night. You’re about to say that, but she looks over your shoulder at the clothes still strewn about your living room and grins. “Holy shit. Is your old man still here?”

“He’s not an old man, and yes, he’s in the shower, so shut up.” She shoves the doughnuts and coffee carrier into your hands and brushes past you, toward your bedroom, and you groan. “Jay, no, come on.”

“I just want to get a glimpse of him,” she says, peeking her head into your room. She sees more clothes, and the condom wrappers, looks back at you with a cocked eyebrow. “Okay, someone had a good time last night.”

“Yes, it was fucking incredible. He’s a sex god, I’m not even kidding. He ate my pussy like he hasn’t had a meal in months, then fucked me twice, so hard and sexy, and then he asked me if he could take me on a date, Jay.” You smile wide, can’t help it. “I really like him, so I actually owe you for not coming out last night.” She smiles back, pulls you close for a hug, and you step back with your hands on her shoulders. “So thank you, and thanks for coming to apologize, but can you please leave? I really don’t want to miss out on some potential good morning shower sex.”

She rolls her eyes, but it’s all from a place of love, and she turns to head out of your room.

“Okay, but only because cockblocking you would mean breaking the slut code again, and I can’t have my membership card revoked. I have a date with the almost frat boy again tonight.” She grins, and you shake your head, pull off your robe when you hear the door shut and head for the shower.

Good morning shower sex has never been so good. One month and twelve dates later, and you’re head over heels for Aaron. He is so sweet, and smart, and secretly funny, the perfect gentleman when you’re in public and an absolute manic in private, and you seriously could not have imagined a more perfect man.

Jay is maybe a little tired of hearing you talk about him.

You’re out for breakfast on a Saturday morning—Aaron is on a case in Indiana, or you’d probably be with him—and she sighs around a bite of french toast.

“I get it, he’s the best lay you’ve ever had in your life. He makes your pussy wet and your heart horny, or whatever. When do I get to meet the old man who’s got you wrapped around his big sexy fingers?”

“He’s supposed to be home tonight, maybe I’ll see if he’s feeling up to drinks?” Sometimes he’s really worn out after these cases, and you don’t blame him, but occasionally they must touch him in a way that makes him want to enjoy life, because you’ve had some nice dates the same day he gets back. You’ll ask, and if he’s not up for it, you’ll reschedule.

“Ooh, yes. I can’t wait to finally get a good look at the hunk who turned my maneater best friend into a monogamous whore.” You gasp, affronted, and she cackles, takes a sip of her iced coffee. Sometimes you can’t even remember why you’re friends—but she never fails to do something completely unexpected and sweet that reminds you eventually. “Hey, maybe now that you’re obsessed with this guy, you can finally meet my dad, since I don’t have to worry about you trying to suck his dick at first sight.”

You know that Jay’s relationship with her dad has been a little rough since her parents split up, and you’ve always thought that maybe you could get her to open up to him, to talk to him, if you could get to know him, but her fears about your taste for older men have always been hilariously real. As if you can’t control yourself; as if you’d ever actually date her dad.

“Well I’ll have to ask my old man; maybe he’s down for a threesome?” It’s her turn to act offended, and you laugh and send Aaron a text about this evening before you forget.

Can’t wait to meet the infamous Jay, he replies, and you won’t lie, you’re feeling really good about your two favorite people finally getting to know each other.

That night, you and Aaron beat Jay to the bar, because of course you do—that bitch is never on time for anything.

You’re feeling cute in a sexy turtleneck dress (the neck of which Aaron tugged down to place a hickey under when you rode him on the couch before coming here) and a set of earrings he bought you—you’re wearing a set of lingerie he bought you, too for later—and he looks gorgeous in a dark blue shirt with the sleeves rolled up.

You can barely keep your hands off of him, squeezing his thigh, kissing his neck; you only give him an inch of space when he gets up to run to the restroom, and even then, the way he smiles and presses his lips to yours before he goes makes you want to cancel drinks and take him home so you can be alone.

But Jay asked to meet him, and you have been a little obsessed lately, so you want to do this and make her happy.

You look down at your phone, ready to hit her with some inflammatory where the fuck are you??? texts, when she drops into the seat Aaron had just vacated, breathless.

“Sorry, sorry. Traffic was really bad, and I got into this huge fight with my mom on the phone...” She pulls off her jacket, drapes it over the back of the seat.

“Is everything okay?” you ask, concerned. The two of them usually get along pretty well.

“Yeah, she’s just pissed because my dad has a new girlfriend—which is stupid, because she’s the one who wanted to divorce him, so why does she care? But anyway, I told her I’d meet her and be nice to her, because it’s important to him, and she expects me to take her side or something. I don’t know. Let’s just say I’m really glad I’m out for drinks with you and your old man so I can forget about my problems for a while.” She takes a deep breath for practically the first time since she started talking, then looks around, realizes it’s just the two of you. “Hey, where is he, anyway?”

“Restroom,” you say with a smile, but something more must creep onto your face, because she rolls her eyes playfully.

“And you didn’t follow him in there for a little stall action?”

“Ew, no. That’s more your speed than mine; we had sex before we came, anyway, look at this hickey.” You pull the neck of your dress down and she whistles, impressed.

“Congrats on having such good pussy, babe. I know you’re sickeningly obsessed with him, but it looks to me like he’s got it bad for you too.” You grin, instinctively want to gush over him, but you see him walking over out of the corner of your eye, so you hold off.

He’s frowning, though, and you’re not sure why.

“Julie?” Jay whips her head around at the sound of Aaron’s voice, and her eyes get wide.

“Dad? What are you…” You stand up abruptly, looking up at Aaron, and Jay stands too, looking between you, confused. “What are you doing here?”

“I… We…” He swallows, looks at you like you’ve both made a terrible mistake. You’re surprised how much that look hurts, but you know you have to take care of Jay before you can feel sorry for yourself.

“Jay, listen to me, okay? I swear to god I didn’t know.” You’re begging, pleading with your eyes, your hands on her shoulders. “I did not know.” She shakes her head like it’s not making sense, but when she lets herself connect the dots, she brings up a hand to cover her mouth.

“Oh my god. Are you fucking kidding me?” She pulls away from you, looking at you like you punched her in the face. “Are you fucking kidding me?”

“Jay, I didn’t—”

“Julie,” Aaron says, reaching for her, but she steps back, palms up.

“I seriously can’t believe this. You two… After every joke we made about me keeping you away from him?” She looks at you like you betrayed her, and you exhale, shrug sadly.

“It’s not like I went looking for him, Jay. We just… found each other.” You don’t look at Aaron, because if the last month hasn’t meant the same things to him, you’ll have to be okay with that. “I know it’s shocking, and I’m sorry. I can’t imagine what it feels like to find this out, this way.”

“You’re right, you can’t imagine. I just fought with my mom about my dad’s new girlfriend, and it’s-it’s you.” She laughs, humorless.

“You fought with your mom? When?” Aaron asks, crossing his arms, and it’s so clear how much he cares about Jay. Her eyes fly to his.

“On the fucking way here. She told me about your new slut girlfriend, and I was defending you! I told her I’d meet her if you asked me to, that I’d be nice because I know she’s important to you! And it’s you,” she practically spits, turning to you. “Such a whore that you’ll fuck anyone over forty who can still get it up, including my fucking father.” Her tone stings, and people are looking at the three of you, but you take a breath, remind yourself that she’s just angry right now, and she loves you, doesn’t mean that.

“Julie, that's enough. I’m taking you home and we can talk about this there.” Aaron steps past her, picks up her jacket, and glances over at you, but you’re collecting your things and and pulling up a rideshare app to get yourself the fuck out of there.

You head for the bathroom to wait it out until your ride comes, and you definitely don’t cry because the two people who bring you the most happiness in the world are gone and they barely even looked back. It’s five days before Jay shows up at your door with apology doughnuts and a bottle of rosé. You eat and drink and cry on each other, and then laugh at each other, and your heart feels a little healed by the end of it.

“I’m sorry I called you a whore. It’s just… what are the odds, after everything we said, that you would actually hook up with my fucking dad.” You laugh and take the last bite of your doughnut.

“You don’t think I was a little startled by that turn of events? I was as shocked as you. I knew he had a daughter around my age, but that’s not really what we talked about, you know?” She shoves half a doughnut in her mouth and cackles.

“You don’t talk a whole lot, from what I’ve gathered.”

“Didn’t,” you say, and your whole mood shifts. She looks confused. “We didn’t talk a whole lot. He hasn’t spoken to me since the night you found out.” She pulls out her phone, starts texting.

“Okay, I told him I was okay with you guys like, two days ago, so this probably means he’s spiraling. He tends to do that—get in his own head and beat himself up for things that aren’t his fault.” She looks up from her phone, gives you a soft smile. “Will you forgive me if I tell you he’s moping at home right now, and that I know he’ll be happy to see you?” You roll your eyes a little.

“I already forgive you, Jay, but if he hasn’t called me, maybe there’s a reason. Maybe he was looking for an out, and I gave him one, or maybe he can’t feel the same way I do because he knows we’re friends.”

“He told my mom about you, remember? He wouldn’t have done that if he wasn’t serious about you, and I don’t think he’d be acting this emo if he didn’t have feelings for you.” She reaches out, covers your hands with hers. “I’m really, really sorry I fucked this up for you guys. Weirdness aside, I know what good people you both are, and I hate that you were happy and I took that from you guys. I’m 100% supportive of you being my future step-mom,” she says with a grin, and you roll your eyes again and give her a hug and then jump up to get a shower.

You’re going to go get your old man.

When you knock on Aaron’s door an hour later, he looks surprised to see you.

“I thought you’d be Julie,” he says softly, and you sigh.

“I know. She sent me. She wants us to get our heads out of our asses, but I told her I don’t know where your head is, because we haven’t spoken.” Seeing him makes you feel a little better, because he does look like he may have been moping the last few days, so that must mean the spark is still there, right? “If you want me to leave, just tell me, and I’ll go; I’ll get out of your life and you can pretend it was just a casual thing, if that’s what you want.” Your heart aches at the thought, but you’d understand, if being his daughter’s best friend is an obstacle he can’t overcome.

“I don’t want you to leave,” he says after a long, painfully drawn out moment. “I don’t want you to ever leave. And I could never pretend this was casual.” He steps forward—so handsome in a t-shirt and jeans it makes you long to press kisses all over his face, to hold him and be held by him—and his eyes are trained on yours. “I know nothing about us is conventional, but it doesn’t matter to me if it doesn’t matter to you. I want to be with you.”

You take a deep, calming breath, exhale and nod. Your hands ache to reach out and touch him.

“I want to be with you, but only if you can promise that if something comes up with Jay—Julie—we can figure it out together. I don’t ever want to feel the way I felt the other night, and while I get that you had to take care of your daughter, and I’m glad you two talked things out, I can’t just be abandoned if things get weird.” You approach him, wrap your arms around him, and sigh. He hugs you so tightly, rests his cheek against the top of your head.

“I promise. I know I could have handled that better, but the situation was just so...”

“I know, that’s okay. Family comes first—but just so you know, she gave me her full support to campaign to become her new step-mom,” you say, pulling back with a teasing smile, and he shakes his head and grins. “So, one last question: Are you ready to get back in the saddle, Aaron?” He leans in and kisses you so hard you’re breathless, weaves his fingers into your hair.

“Sounds like my kind of adventure.” Message sent with high importance: Do not disturb! Your dad’s indecent.

J: Gross. Thanks for the warning, mom.

That’s step-mom, to you. Taglist ❤️: @thaddeusly @arsonhotchner @mrsh0tchner @ssahotchie @sleepyreaderreads @mintphoenix @meghannnnnn @disgruntledchowchow @azenpal @g-l-pierce @my-rosegold-soul @ssamorganhotchner @heliotropehotch @angelhotchner @qtip-blog @gspenc @wishuhadstayed