#Gotta be the one who makes everything for them

[incorrectbatfam]

Ways to be a nuisance in our year of 2025

(from personal experience)

Get a small box. Write "take as you need" on the side. Fill it with period products. Put them in public bathrooms, including men's rooms.

Find a pothole. Paint a dick on it. Either your town will fix it or the public will enjoy your masterpiece.

Apps like No Thanks, Boycat, and Boycott X (my personal fave) let you scan items for boycotting shit. Money talks.

Red Cards contains all the rights that everyone, citizen or not, is entitled to in this country. They come in a bunch of different languages. Print them, give them out, leave them in places that need it, etc.

Don't be a snitch. Know someone undocumented? Someone traveling for reproductive or gender-affirming care? No the fuck you do not.

If someone asks your help doing #5, be their cover. If you live where they're fleeing from: no you don't know where they went, no they didn't tell you anything. If you live somewhere people are going to: that is now your cousin, friend from high school, camping buddy, etc.

Here is a fake person generator including phone, email, and address. Here is a free VPN for desktop and mobile. Spam the shit out of those ICE tiplines, trans bathroom reporting forms, etc. Here is a thing that lets you flood an email. Make their system useless.

If you're white, you have way more freedom when it comes to interacting with cops. Distract and divert.

See Nazi shit? Tear it up, kick it down, paint it over. See a Nazi? Rip into them. If you can't, record them, post it, send it to folks connected to them. Do not let them know peace.

If you protest: nondescript outfit with a change of clothes, cover scars and tattoos, leave behind devices that can track you, and either don't drive or park far away. Masks, goggles, and helmets highly suggested. Heavy duty gloves or tennis rackets for lobbing gas cans back. Fresh water or saline solution for tear gas and pepper spray. Have an exit route but also be prepared to hunker down or get arrested.

Nonprofit orgs are always looking for donations and volunteers, especially smaller local ones. There's a role for everyone, including admin stuff for folks who can't leave home. Reach out to them and ask what help they need. The people who aren't seen are just as important as the ones who are.

If you're taking someone to get an abortion, especially a place like Planned Parenthood that might have picketers, put something under your shirt and pretend you are the one who's pregnant to divert attention. Guys can do this too. Be their secret mpreg fantasy.

Cis folks: if your trans friend asks you to accompany them to a bathroom or locker room, do it. And if someone comes poking their nose in your business, pretend you're the one who's trans—again, taking the attention away from your friend.

It takes just a dozen emails or a few people showing up at local town hall or school board meetings to disrupt everything and steer the discussion.

If you have a job in the government or something adjacent, gum up the works. Let calls go to voicemail and don't return them for hours. Leave emails unanswered for a day or few. Don't work through lunch breaks even if it's busy. Take your PTO in its entirety, and leave something only you can do incomplete. Rearrange your priorities ("Sorry Janet, I can't look into who's hiring illegal immigrants, I gotta fix this printer first"). Create excuses to delay things—it needs to be double checked, it didn't pass inspection, it didn't contain some insignificant detail.

Gather some food or prep some meals for your local homeless folks. Make a portion for yourself too. That way if someone asks, you're simply sharing a meal with an old friend who happens to be down on their luck.

Get some Pride stickers/flags/posters and sprayable Gorilla Glue. Slap them on everything, including cars and businesses owned by conservatives. Make our presence constantly known.

[summertiide]

hence nothing remains except for our regrets

sometimes you just gotta smash your interests together like playdough!!! here's the Great God Grove gods in OFF's style!

shoutout to @weirdalchemy for the sketch of Huzzle Mug's pose and a ton of help in working out the other ones!

the full-sized + unsprited sketches / some assorted rambling under the cut!

turning them into little 200px max sprites lost some of the detail i really enjoyed on some of them (thespius basically lost all of his hair flowers, and bauhauzzo lost a few nice rock-chipping details i was super fond of u_u), so i figured i'd include my sketches also!

a few extra design notes from while i was trying to figure everything out

i wanted to keep Miss Mitternacht really simple, and tried to lean into the early-game boss sort of look! (i was also trying to remember how to get the sketchy-pencil texture to translate into the smaller versions, oops)

Cobigail and Inspekta were the first ones i thought of when i decided to make all of them! Cobigail's jumpscare face was an instant pick, even if i lost all of those extra little lines in the spriting process

drawing typewriters is a nightmare. people who draw Click Clack all the time at his typewriter are stronger than i could possibly imagine

i got stuck on Thespius for a while, and he was the second to last one i finished - he's a lover, not a fighter!!! i wound up sort of trying to take an angle similar to Sugar's in OFF, an optional boss who you have to deliberately go for (i have this distinct vision in my mind of a boss track for him called "Swansong")

Bauhauzzo is meant to look kind of stuck in the ground, like an obelisk!

Inspekta was taken for sort of a "busted doll" look, from that bit in the art book where they said he was animated to "move like a plushie"! he was my favorite of the bunch to work on, even if the hands were kind of a Situation

it was kind of a bummer that more of King's eye-veil didn't turn out in the sprite, but i couldn't quite find a way to make it show up without making it hide her face too much! people drawing her posing with the sword was a huge source of inspiration, though, it just felt right

i might do more of these sometime soon - maybe the Bizzyboys as a sort of group fight? i also thought about doing a Godpoke Batter type of look but i couldn't quite figure out how to finagle that, but i may try again later on!

[stolasbuckzo]

I can see it playing out something similar to this:

Stolas sat quietly on the couch in the apartment he had come to know so well. Eight months had passed since he moved in with Blitz and Loona after his exile from the Goetia estate. At first, he had been overwhelmed with gratitude, keeping his distance from any sense of ownership or permanence. He’d left the apartment just as it was when he arrived, unwilling to impose. After all, this place wasn’t his; it was Blitz’s home, Loona’s sanctuary. He was just… a long-term guest, wasn’t he?

It gnawed at him quietly. Stolas tried not to notice how bare his surroundings felt—how the walls held no personal touch of his own. The balcony stood empty, no trace of the lush greenery he once surrounded himself with in his tower. Inside, there were no celestial motifs to remind him of the stars that had brought him comfort. He didn’t mind… or, at least, he told himself that. This wasn’t his place to shape, after all.

That was until Blitz, arms crossed and leaning against the kitchen counter, casually broke the silence over dinner one night. “So, uh… you really gonna keep this place looking like a dead guy’s mausoleum for the next century or somethin’?”

Stolas blinked, his fork pausing mid-air. “A century?”

Blitz smirked but softened as he stepped forward, his tail flicking lazily behind him. “Yeah, Birdbrain. You’re gonna be stuck here with us until your Goetia title gets reinstated, and who the hell knows when that’s happenin’. Might as well make yourself at home.” He plopped down next to Stolas, nudging him lightly with his elbow. “C’mon, Stols. Hundred years is a long-ass time to live like a guest. You ain’t a guest—unless you’re plannin’ on moving out once you save up enough to rent a place with your own royal ass or somethin’.”

Stolas opened his mouth to protest, but Blitz cut him off, his voice more tender now. “Look… I don’t mind if you, y’know, make it your own a bit. Neither does Loona. Hell, she said the other day it’s weird you haven’t ‘Stolas-ed’ up the place yet.” Blitz chuckled. “And… you’re here. Really here. So stop acting like you gotta walk on eggshells around us, alright?”

The words hung between them for a moment. Stolas felt a warmth spread through him, deeper than the teasing could account for. Blitz meant it. He wasn’t just a guest anymore.

A few weeks passed, and gradually, the apartment began to shift. It was subtle at first: a few small plants placed on the balcony, a vine climbing up a railing. Stolas didn’t overthink it. He simply let himself do what felt right. In the living room, Blitz noticed when Stolas hung a few celestial ornaments—planets and stars glimmering in soft gold and silver. One night, Blitz came home to find the living room bathed in a gentle, ambient glow from enchanted starlights Stolas had scattered across the ceiling. Blitz whistled low as he looked around.

“Damn. It’s kinda nice in here,” Blitz murmured, letting his eyes roam. He wasn’t the sentimental type, but seeing how the space had subtly transformed, it… felt right. It reflected both of them now—Stolas’s fascination with the cosmos and the life that Blitz, and even Loona had breathed into their little family.

Later that night, Blitz sat beside Stolas on the balcony, where potted flowers and herbs swayed gently in the Hellish breeze. They looked out over the city together, the faint glow of the enchanted stars inside casting long, gentle shadows through the glass door behind them.

Blitz leaned closer, resting a hand on Stolas’s knee. “See? Told ya you’d make this place better.”

Stolas smiled softly, his gaze turning upward. “You were right, Blitz. It feels… more like home now. I didn’t think I could ever have that again. Not after everything I’ve lost.”

Blitz squeezed his knee lightly and leaned his head back against Stolas’s shoulder. “Yeah, well, you didn’t lose everything. You got us, remember?” His voice softened, almost inaudible over the wind. “You got me.”

Stolas’s throat tightened, and he turned his head to press a light kiss to Blitz’s temple. “I do. And I’ll never take that for granted.”

They sat in peaceful silence after that, the city lights twinkling beneath them like distant stars. For the first time in a long while, Stolas felt a sense of belonging he hadn’t realized he’d been craving all along. He wasn’t a prince in exile anymore—not here. He was Stolas, a part of something real. A part of them.

The worse case scenario at the end of season scenario is that at some point (whether at the end of S3 or early S4) someone— possibly Paimon— pulls strings to end Stolas’s sentence early than intended

the balcony from the last scene looked so empty, i thought it might be a nice place for a little garden hehe

Don’t use without permission, don’t repost, please. Ok to reblog! Thank you! 💛

[landopoet]

two prizes.

pairing lando norris x journalist!reader

warnings smut, oral (fem receiving), mentions of alcohol

synopsis that day was not the first time you and lando had met, and he helps you remember that

author’s note posting my older works, thanks to @clovermoters for the collage up top!

♯

Excitement pulsed through your veins at the mere sound of engines roaring.

The amount of people trying to push past you made you anxious, but you knew it was all part of the experience. Everyone was bunching up to watch one of the greatest events of all time— the Miami GrandPrix.

Once you make it through the crowd, avoiding elbows and shoulders of people much taller and energetic than you, the entrance that you need comes into view.

You weren’t just excited for the interviews you were going to watch up close, but also the entire concept of the race. The hustle of engineers in all these garages, working their hardest to get the drivers in and out of the pits with minimal time to waste. Not to mention the drivers themselves, having to sit in the cars for multiple hours over the race weekend with no complaints— they chose to do this, they deal with the consequences.

That’s exactly what excited you. The reasoning for their choice to do this, you wanted to ask each and every one of them why they wanted to do this, what was so interesting?

You guessed their answer would be the same as yours if you were asked why you became a sports journalist.

Keeping your amazement at bay, you observed the race, focused on everything going on even though it was a lot to keep up with. But that’s exactly what you were there for.

You were sitting in the grandstands, intently watching the cars fly past you, when your phone rang. The caller ID said it was your coworker who had also been at the race but disappeared about ten minutes ago.

“Hello?”

She sounded distressed when you heard her voice. “Hey, love. I was wondering if you could take over the post-race interviews?”

Today was supposed to be a sort of intern day for you, meaning you were just going to watch your colleague interview the drivers and better understand what the etiquette is for it. You hadn’t expected to have your first interview today.

“Uh, why?” You asked, in a whisper. “You know I’ve never interviewed anyone before, right?”

“So?” She seemed much more confident in you than you were in yourself. “You’ve studied journalism for a few years now, yeah? I don’t think you’d have taken an internship at SkySports for nothing.”

“I mean, I guess?” You shrug. “I’m not sure if I’m ready to speak to actual drivers, though. What if I make a fool of myself?”

“You won’t if you remember that they’re just people doing their jobs, and you’re doing your job by asking them questions.” She makes a good point and you sigh in defeat.

“Alright, I’ll do it. Send over the information you’ve written.”

“Sorry.” You hear her slightly laugh. “You gotta fend for yourself with that one, hun. It’s a cruel world we live in. Cheers.”

With that, the call ended and you were left with nothing but anxiety weighing on your shoulders. The rest of the race seemed to fly by in mere minutes, your mind too focused on the pressure of your first ever interview.

Well, not first ever.

You imagined the day would come sooner or later, so you’d practise a conversation with one of the drivers by speaking to yourself in the mirror. That, and watching multiple interviews through the years, soaking up every bit of information you could about the process of it.

Before you knew it, you were standing in a sea of people with their cameras, waiting for the drivers to make their way to you.

It wasn’t that nerve wracking when you actually started talking to them, and by the time you got to Daniel, you had lost all feelings of anxiety, instead laughing along to his jokes.

You thought so, at least. A feeling of intimidation crawled up your spine when your eyes locked with Lando Norris, a driver for Mclaren. You noticed the piercing look from across the room as he spoke to a different interviewer, his green pupils tracking your every move as you spoke to Oscar.

The interview with Oscar wraps up and he begins turning away from you. “Good luck on your next race!”

Oscar smiled at you as he walked off to somewhere you could only guess.

If you had been anxious before, you were probably five times as anxious now, because Oscar Piastri leaving the spot in front of you meant that Lando Norris would be replacing him. And, for whatever reason, he was making you incredibly nervous.

You looked down at the ground as Lando approached you, waiting to hear what you had to say. You couldn’t bear looking up at him, knowing he’s already staring at you. But it was part of your job and you had to stay professional.

“Hello, Lando.” You said, cheerily.

“Hi,” he grinned at you, sweaty and all, his dimples appearing for a split second. “How are you?”

“I’m alright, thanks, how was the race?” You asked with a smile, ignoring the butterflies in the pit of your stomach when he smiled at you again.

Lando’s green eyes studied your face, soaking up each detail he missed since the last time he had seen you. He knows you don’t remember him and he doesn’t need you to, it’s kind of nice to feel something without reciprocation from the other.

After a long while, Lando shrugged. “Yeah, uh, the race was pretty good, I mean, I got first place, so I’d say it’s good. Y’know, aside from Oscar’s incident, but that’s not something we can predict, it just happens.”

You watched intently as he explained the race, your eyes oddly drawn to his lips. The pattern at which they move, and the tempting way he pokes his tongue out to tap the corners of his lips, makes you weak.

This was horribly unprofessional of you, and you knew that, but the charms of this young british racer had worked their magic on you, and you weren’t strong enough to resist it.

You felt like it was just the two of you in the room and both of you were trying your damn best not to break, one for more reasons than the other.

“Yeah, it seems like it was a lucky race for you, the pace of your car was incredible to watch.” You pointed out, looking down at the race data on your clipboard. “The RedBull’s were a bit slower this race, do you think that gave you an advantage?”

“Well, they already win races left, right and centre. They have to be bad sometimes.” Lando stifled a laugh. “But, uh, I don’t know. I think it all came down to the car and my ability to control it. The pace was insane, honestly, I wasn’t expecting it to be faster than a RedBull.”

The joke made you giggle and you quickly hid your face by looking away for a mere moment, in an attempt to recollect yourself. Thankfully, none of the cameras were on your face.

“Or it’s just pure talent, I’d say.” You look back up at him, his eyes never once leaving your face. He’s so smiley and it’s contagious, so you can’t help but smile at him, too. “Any plans for the celebration? You must be feeling ecstatic about your first win, so I assume the celebration must be as big as this.”

Lando puts the tube of his water bottle to his lips and takes a long sip, eyes still glued to you. He wasn’t even blinking, far too focused on the shape of your lips and how good they felt that night. That one night you can’t seem to remember.

“I’m not entirely sure, if I’m honest.” He shrugs, tongue poking out to lick his bottom lip before he takes it between his teeth, biting back the widest grin you’ve ever seen on his face. “I still have to call my mum and siblings.”

“I’m sure they’re incredibly proud of you,” you smile, politely. He’s still intently looking at you, cheeks now burning red at your comment accompanied by his massive grin.

It was time to wrap up your chat with Lando, but, in all honesty, you really didn’t want to. You felt something brewing in your chest at the mere feeling of his eyes burning into you, and it excited you.

Still, you ignore it. You had to stay professional, even if it was all too much to handle. “It was lovely chatting with you, Lando. Congratulations and good luck next race.”

“Will you be interviewing me next time, too?” Lando asks, making no move to walk away just yet. His eyes narrowed onto yours when you looked back at him, an adorably surprised look on your face.

“Uh,” you look away for a moment, not sure what to say. “I don’t know. Maybe.”

“I look forward to seeing you again. Maybe.” He gave you another cocky smirk and nodded his head as a farewell, leaving you nothing but a blushing mess in the media pen.

After a plethora of interviews back to back, you were tired beyond words. Your feet were sore, your back hurt, you felt your eyelids close if you stood still for longer than two seconds. The image of your soft hotel bed made you motivated to keep moving through the building and find your way out.

“Oh, hey!” A familiar voice stopped you in your tracks. “Y/N, was it?”

Your eyes find their way to the person behind you and you’re happy to see that it’s Daniel. “Daniel! Hi, nice to see you again.” You extended a hand to shake and he smiled as he squeezed it.

“Was lovely talking to you earlier. You asked such great questions, honestly, it made me really think about my answers, y’know?” You hadn’t noticed how both of you started walking again and he kept up with your pace. “How long have you been doing this?”

“Oh, interviewing?” You ask and he nods eagerly, with the energy of a little boy. “This was my first official day of interviewing, actually. I had to step in for my colleague.”

“No way.” He muses, jaw slack and eyes glimmering with interest. “The way you interacted with me had me thinking you were carrying a load of experience.”

You stifle a laugh and watch the path ahead. “Yeah, well. I practised a lot in my room. You have race sims, I have a mirror and a hairbrush for a microphone.”

Daniel’s laugh echoed in the mostly empty area around you. “You’re funny, too.” He muses once again, shocked by how much fun you can be. “Listen, I know it’s not professional to ask this, but are you free tonight?”

“Oh, uh,” you look up at him and hesitate. “I’m not interested in-“

“No, no,” Daniel waves his hands in the air as if to stop the words spilling from your mouth. “God, no. I was going to ask if you’d like to come to the club later, all of the drivers are gonna be there to celebrate Lando’s win. It could be fun.”

You paused in your steps, brows furrowing as you felt a beam of energy climb up your spine. All of a sudden, your bed didn’t seem like the comfiest thing in the world and you were willing to exchange it for a pair of heels and a dress.

“I’d like that, yeah.” You smiled at Daniel and he reciprocated the gesture.

He gives you a piece of paper with something scribbled on it and you gladly pluck it from his fingers. “Shoot me a text when you’re ready, I’ll give you a ride to the club. Cheers.”

And with that, he disappeared into the car park, the only remainder of his friendly presence being his lingering smell in the air and the scribbled number on the back of a grocery store coupon.

“Thanks, mate.”

Lando’s hand felt heavy as he shook it with someone he barely knew, congratulating him on the win. He’s been stuck in this large group of people for way too long, desperately looking for an escape. And, eventually, he found it— you.

His eyes have been stuck to you for the past fifteen minutes, patiently waiting for the people to finish congratulating him so he could finally talk to you.

When the perfect moment arose, Lando swiftly shimmied between the dancing bodies and made his way to the bar. You were still sitting there, looking as beautiful as the last time he saw you, but now you were right in front of him and he didn’t know what to do with himself.

“Fancy seeing you here,” Lando’s voice startles you when he plops down in a bar stool beside you.

You smile at him, feeling the same anxiety crawl up your spine as the last time you saw him. “I’d say the same, but this feels like the perfect place for a race winner.”

“I honestly hated it before,” he shrugged, looking out into the crowd. “I used to party after a podium, second place being the best I’ve ever had.”

“But now you’re here as a winner.” You’re still looking at him when he turns back around. There’s something so nostalgic about the way he looks at you, almost as if you’ve already been there and seen him before. “A victory looks good on you.”

“Yeah?” He flashes a grin your way, raising a brow. “I’ll try to win more then. Maybe I’ll get to see you again that way.”

“I’m free whenever you want to see me,” you blurt. Lando’s eyebrows raise with surprise when you say that and he bursts into a small laugh when you start flailing your hands around in the air. “Sorry, that’s so unprofessional, I didn’t mean to–“

“It’s fine,” he assures you. “I was actually going to ask you if you wanted to get out of here. But that’s so unprofessional of me.”

“Mr. Norris!” You exclaim with a faux gasp. Lando watches with an amused grin on his face as you smile back at him. “I’d like that very much.”

It didn’t take long for both of you to swivel your way past the drunk people in the club and find yourselves in a cab. Lando’s hand made a home on your thigh and you didn’t mind. It felt warm, secure and turned you on when he inched it closer to the hem of your dress.

Time flew fast in the company of a race winner, especially one as charming and attractive as Lando. You didn’t realise how many hours had passed after you had left the club and, frankly, you didn’t really care.

The moments spent with him felt somehow nostalgic, as if you had felt this way before. But you’re sure you just dreamt it. There’s no way you’ve met Lando before and didn’t remember it.

It felt silly to think that, so you just ignored that thought and continued watching the intoxicating way his lips moved as he spoke. He’s been talking about something for the past five minutes and you didn’t hear a word of it, being far too focused on the pattern of his freckles, the dip of his nose and the gentleness of his eyes when he looked at you.

“What’s on your mind?” He asked, voice gentle and cautious.

You bit back a smile, eyes flickering between his eyes and lips. “You.”

The nostalgic feeling snuck its way into the back of your mind when he kissed you, his lips and hands feeling like a long lost home. You somehow already knew the melody of his breathing and the pattern of his hair, the familiarity of his kiss starting a fire in your chest. You felt the warmth of his lust spread through your torso, creeping up your neck, softly toying with the giggle in your throat.

Stars spackled on the inside of your eyelids and the harmonious sounds leaving your lips finally drew you back to that night.

Warm hands. Gentle strokes and soft kisses. Careful fingertips trailing their way down your hips. Lando’s tongue danced on your aching bud and you felt the whole world fade away. The mere touch of his fingers on your hips to keep you still reminded you of the last time.

“Mmh, fuck.” Lando hummed against you, the vibrations sending bolts of lightning through your veins. “So good. So fucking good for me, y/n.”

His tongue swirled around your throbbing clit, bringing you that much closer to the edge. The alcohol in your system mixed with the pleasure coursing through your body was a lethal combination. Your legs shook as you felt your walls close around nothing, Lando’s mouth attached to you as if he was a starved man and you were the first thing he could get his mouth on.

“I’m- I-” You couldn’t even finish your sentence before making a mess all over his goatee. He licked up every last bit of you, the sweet taste of you making a perfect combination with the aftertaste of whiskey in the back of his throat.

You stayed lying there, eyes fluttering closed and lips parted, deep breaths inflating your chest. Lando watched you, green eyes soaking in every inch of you— he wasn’t sure if you’d remember him this time, so he made the most of every moment spent with you.

After a while of him watching you, you felt Lando get up and come back in a few minutes, a damp towel in his hands. He touched your most sensitive parts with the weight of nothing, carefulness sewn into every movement he made. At that point, you were drifting in and out of consciousness, not fully knowing when the bed dipped under Lando’s weight again.

You felt his arms wrap around you and pull you in, the warmth of his bare skin heating your cheek. You were hesitant to speak, cautious as to not say something wrong. So, instead of speaking, you lifted your head and connected your lips with his again, the minty taste of his lips making you smile.

“It was you.”

Lando hummed into the kiss, as if to acknowledge that it was him, but also to ask what you meant.

You pulled away, fingers immediately making home in his curls. “That night.” A familiar look painted itself across Lando’s face. “I tried so hard to remember whose lips felt like home, and only the weight of yours reminded me.”

“You were thinking about me?” Lando inquired, brushing stray strands of hair away from your face.

You nodded. “Every day since that night.”

Lando smiled before kissing you again. “You never left my mind. I kept reminiscing that night, waiting for fate to magically bring us back to one another.” He whispered against your hairline, lips pressing soft, love-filled kisses against your skin. “Didn’t expect to win two prizes in one day.”

A small laugh slipped past your lips. “What a lucky man you are, Mr. Norris.”

“The luckiest.” He hummed. “Because I finally have you.”

[ghostathan]

Hi, I'm a dumb fuck who misplaces shit all the time, and because of this, I am the finder of many things, even stuff other people misplace. Here are my methods that could help more than "just remember!"

If you don't remember SEEING where you put it, can you remember senses? How did it sound when you put it down. like a glass surface or on paper piles? do you remember the feel of opening a drawer or the height of where you put it? was it dark or bright?

Have you checked the usual blind spots?Places where you keep putting something and you never think to look there? like behind a vase or television. Places that obscure your immediate sight of the missing item. It coukd be even on the floor right in front of you.

It could be on top of something that is the same color, or turned over.

Have you changed something recently? If your like me, you also leave stuff wherever and the missing item may be moved. If you dont hang up your jacket or put away your shopping bags, check under those. behind all your dishes you didnt put away. It may have even falen into some place you've tidied up recently.

youve cleaned recently. Youve decided now is the time to get your shit together and put things where they should be. Which means nothing is where it should be. In those cases, please check where smart people put items, instead of dumb fucks. That or the closet you shoved everything inside. anyplace or anything you put away, search those areas.

You could retrace your steps. reenact putting the item where the dumb fuck wiuld put it. then search the fuck around that area. Especially if its a bed or couch or some other area that has other items on it. get under there with a flashlight if you gotta.

Also, most importantly, please stay calm during your search. If you panic, you could tunnel vision, which makes finding things less likely and will upset you further. And then you start beating yourself up and you give up. Take a deep breath and take your time in your search.

Everyone misplaces things. Everyone forgets from time to time. Sure, it would be convenient if you remember, but you don't. So you have to find what will help you NOW. not just the preventative measures that arent helpful after the fact.

Will add one preventive tip for if you live with people who constantly tell you to just remember: Tell THEM where you put the item. If their memory is so great, they could just remember for you! Use em like an external drive! Obviously just use people your comfortable with but it does work. You may even remember telling them. (like tip 1)

having ADHD will have you going round your house saying aloud, "Okay, so if I were me, and me is a dumb fuck, where the hell would I put X," and you still can't find it

[hauntedbydreams]

The long awaited part 2 to the Cuddly!Vi Headcanons as promised

Cuddly!Vi Headcanons Pt. 2 💞

P.S. it’s a bullet point kinda day

Actually loves to read before bed because she used to pass time in prison like that

Her favorite is when you cuddle up and you each read your own copy of the same book so you can discuss your thoughts about it later.

She’s a very restless reader, blame it on the undiagnosed ADHD, but she fidgets all the time and takes forever to get comfy.

Even when she does, she’s switching positions and rummaging around the blankets and pillows every few minutes

You’d think she’d be the same with sleeping but oh no. Once she’s asleep, she’s out like a light.

Didn’t used to be like that. In prison she had to keep her guard up all the time and never let herself fully relax. She also had nightmares about the beatings a lot but after moving in with you and realizing she’s safer than she’s been in years, she’s back to her teenage habits of sleeping like a log.

Snores, a lot! You just kinda shove her and she snorts, maybe turns her head up, half consciously, and then goes right back to sleeping, pulling you closer to her by the waist in the process

Vi always has her hand on your waist when you sleep. Always. And good luck getting out of bed to go pee at night.

“Mmgh where are you going” she grunts sleepily as you try to nudge her off so you can get out of bed.

“I’m just going to the bathroom Vi”

“Mm…hurry back, can’t sleep without you”

But by the time you’re back she’s already snoring. You crawl into bed beside her and almost on cue, her hand is back around your waist as she sleeps face down snoring into the pillow. Even subconsciously she always keeps you close.

Loves being big spoon

Unless it’s her turn to be little spoon. That’s a whole other story. (sHe’S jUsT a LiTtLe BaBy!!)

She’s really gotta be in a mood for that to happen, or it’s one of those days when she’s being quieter than usual and you notice. So you’re all about taking care of her, washing her hair, making her dinner and of course letting her be little spoon.

She kinda likes that it’s a special treatment thing because she feels like she earns it then, even though you’ve told her a million times that you love her and she doesn’t need to earn your love. But not much you can do to rewire an eldest daughter’s brain when it comes to earning and deserving love…!

Vi’s favorite cuddling position though, is when she can crawl up between your legs to lie face down on ur chest. She falls asleep every time while u scratch at her scalp through her pink hair.

Loves to sleep in with you on lazy mornings.

Those are her absolute fave cuddle sessions. Sun on your skin, messy sleep hair, PJs riding up and the warmth of your bedsheets, she swears she could die happy.

Contrary to popular belief, Vi’s not doing her workouts and going for runs at the ass crack of dawn. She prefers to do them later in the day or especially at night while half the world is asleep and everything is dark out, shimmering streetlights as she goes for her midnight run.

She comes back home, showers and then crawls into bed next to you, where you’re usually still awake anyway, waiting for her. Those late nights are her second favorite cuddle sessions. Just you her and the moon.

Cuddly!Vi def comes out when she’s sick

Vi is such a cry baby when she’s sick

“Baby, come cuddle me please” she’s whining before you’ve even made it to the kitchen to make her some tea.

“Can you kiss it better?” With the puppy dog eyes

“Vi it’s literally a cold, where am I supposed to kiss it better?!?”

“Mmm my forehead” “no wait, and my nose” “actual also my lips” and she’s jutting out her bottom lip in a mini pout.

“Yeah ok at this rate I’m gonna get sick too, and then who’s gonna take care of you?”

She’s just pouting up at you and giving you those powder blue puppy eyes. You really can’t deny her.

Very touchy cuddly coded, like will be extremely touchy and soft when you’re out, literally ANYWHERE.

Needs to have her hands on you, on your waist, on your thigh, in your hand, arm around your shoulder, around your hips, head nuzzled in your neck, or resting on top of your head… you name it, she’s tried every PDA move under the sun.

Just a touch starved baby who’s love languages are definitely physical touch and acts of service.

[raylynnn]

Make up sex with kirishima💋

Contains ⚠️: smut, little bit of angst, humiliation, biting, choking, marks, spanking, p in v, hair pulling, swearing, rough sex

💋💋💋💋💋💋💋💋💋💋💋💋💋💋💋💋💋💋

You and Kiri didn’t fight much, hardly at all. But one thing Kiri did not play about was your safety. You were both successful pro hero’s making your way up in the charts. But somtimes you forget you and Edjiro are a team, you were so used to doing everything on your own before you met the love of your life Kiri, but now it gets frustrating when he tries to help you, cause in your head you take it as he thinks your incapable. But that’s not the case he just wants to take care of you and let you know he’s there.

So today during patrol when you went up against a villian who clearly had the upper hand on you, and you refused to call backup, oh Edjiro was just upset..he was furious. I mean do you know what could’ve happened to you..? He can’t imagine losing you, your everything to him.

“Babe..please I’m sorry” you mumbled as you walked through the door coming back from the hospital.

Silence. Nothing said or spoken.

You started to grow frustrated. “Kiri..baby please I said I’m sorry you just don’t understand-“

He whipped his head quick. “Don’t understand..? You think I don’t understand what it’s like to feel useless or to feel you could of done more?” You could hear the anger in his voice he wasn’t yelling, he would never yell at you. But he was stern and cold. “I could of lost you Y/n! Do you know what you mean to me?” He said taking a step closer to you. “You think that I think your some weakling! Who can’t do anything on her own..but that’s not true, y/n your the strongest women I know and I know your capable but that doesn’t mean you have to do everything alone..”

You looked up at the red head, tears resting on your waterline as you looked at him. And all the reasons you loved him starting running through your body like water. “Your right..I’m so-“ you were quickly cut off. “Your not sorry..cause you said that last time.” He said grabbing you by the back of your hair he knuckles reaching into your scalp. “Your so stubborn..you know that” his breath was hot against yours and that look in his eye..he was blinded almost.

“Look at me.” He said sternly. “I love you, I love you so much but this behavior cannot keep going..” you raised a brow in curiosity until you felt a harsh smack on your butt. You hissed in pain until he grabbed your jaw firmly. “Forgive me baby..” he said as he swatted your ass again and again..and again. He picked you and threw you over his shoulder like some rag doll and whispered in your ear. “Gotta learn someday love..”

He took you into your shared bedroom and sat on the edge of the bed laying you on your stomach across his lap. He rubbed over the red hand prints as he kissed your lower back. As soon as you thought he was being gentle he yanked you up by your hair making you face him. He ran his fingers playfully under the waistband of your shorts, “yeah baby? You want me to play with you..?” He teased groping your ass playfully.

You nodded eagerly waiting to be touched, to be satisfied. “Is that a yes baby?” You turned your cheek slightly trying to make eye contact as you muttered “yes..please daddy” his cock twitched in his pants as he smirked playfully. He slipped your shorts off followed by your panties, he brought your panties up to his nose as he took a deep inhale. “Fuck gorgeous..can’t wait to lick you clean of your mess baby..”

He picked you up and layed you down on the bed, he bent your legs and spread them wide as he admired you soaked cunt. He swiped 2 fingers through you heat as he watched you jolt. He quickly nudged his face into your heat darting his tongue out to lick and kiss your sweet pussy. You reached your fingers into his hair, pulling and tangling it in between your knuckles. “Fuck! Yes..” you moaned out as you practically grinded against his face.

He smirked against your clit as he brought two fingers up to your entrance and slowly entering one after the other. He was pumping his digits in and out of you like a drill. “Yeah? Does that feel good baby, you like it when daddy’s rough like this?” You couldn’t do anything except nod and squirm. And as Kiri was pumping you full licking up all your sweet nectar all of sudden kiri’s phone started going off. He used his free hand to pick up the phone. It read “Bakugo” he reached for the hang up button but then he gotten a wicked idea.

He handed the phone to you. “Answer this for daddy mhm?” Your eyes widend “n-no! I c-can’t!” He practically forced the phone into your hand. “Answer it or I’ll stop.” He said cold and stern. You answered the phone hesitantly. “H-hello?” You muttered “where’s shitty hair?” He got right to the point. “Hello to y-you too.. um he’s um..” you were lost for words as Kiri just smirked and kept eating you up like his last meal.

“He’s uh showering..w-what’s up?” You asked. “I saw what happened on the news you two idiots ok?” He said with a ounce of care in his tone. “Y-yeah..oh yes~” you relized you fucked up but you quickly recovered “oh y-yes we’re fine!” You stuttered out like a babbling mess. “You good? Your babbling like a mf right now.” Your eyes widened in fear but before you even react Kiri added another finger filling you with 3 fingers now. “FUCK!” You slammed the phone to your chest to muffle your cries. You put the phone back to your ear as you heard a sigh from his side of the call.

“You two are some sick fucks..Jesus just don’t pick up next time” he said behind a sign of discust with a slight chuckle before hanging up. Your eyes widend in embarrassment. “Dammit Edjiro I told you he would k-know!” Edjiro ignored your annoyed groans and continued his assault on your cunt. “Oh please..like you wernt in to it..I felt you get tighter when you knew he found out princess..” he said in a sultry tone and he was right. The idea of being caught terrified you and made you 10x wetter as well.

Bringing your attention back to the starved man between your legs, you felt the knot in your stomach start to break. Your back arched and toes curled as tangled your fingers into his hair even more. “God Kiri~ yes baby! Yes- give it to me..give it to me!” You moaned and whined like a babbling mess, sweat beading down ur forehead and drool dripping from the corner of your mouth as your orgasam hit you like a truck.

As you caught your breath you tucked your hair behind you ear trying to sit up as Kiri sat up onto his knees wiping your arrousal away but before you could even rest against the headboard Kiri had already yanked you towards the bed by your calves as he smacked your heat 1, 2, 3 times fast and hard. “You didn’t think I was done with you yet? Right princess your smarter than that..” he said as he pulled down his sweats flowing that were his boxers. His cock, hard and heavy smacked up against his abdomen. God he looked so good so edible. A sticky mess you just wanted to clean up.

He ran his cock through your folds a few times teasing and taking his time with your needy pussy. “Baby please..need you” you whined. He ignored your pleads and begs. “Oh yea? Then beg baby..unless you don’t really want it that bad..” he said faking a disappointed tone. “No..no want it, want it so much baby..” that wasn’t enough for him though he simply stopped all movements grabbing you by the neck. “Is that the best you got?” He spat.

You reached out for his cock with you small hands as you looked up at with those big doe eyes. “Please daddy..please fill me up with your cock..fuck me till I can’t take it..till I’m screaming and crying like a bitch, stuff me full, fuck do whatever the hell you want to me, I don’t want it unless it’s your cock down my throat..” his eyes widened in excitement as he shoved you impossibly deeper into the mattress, folding you in half placing your ankles by your ears.

“Good fucking girl..” he said before he plowed into you. God you were so tight and vulnerable just a little toy for him to use as he pleased. He drilled into you like a dog in heat, the sound of skin on skin filled the room as he fucked you as if he just got out of prison. “Your In love with this cock arnt cha?” He said pressing his hand on your tummy as he plowed into your sloppy pussy. Your mouth hung wide and eyes lidded with your brow furrowed as you layed their and took it, you were babbling non stop but none of it made sense, he had fucked you dumb and stupid, you just kept blabbering on about how good it felt.

Pathetic.

He pulled out and quickly flipped you onto your stomach before he yanked you up by your hair. “Ass up baby..” he said giving it a firm slap. Before he drilled his cock into you once again. He was fucking you like a damn dog.. and you were fucking loving it. You felt that familiar coil unwind as your legs shook beneath you. “B-baby! S-slow slow down!! T-too much!” You tried to warn it was so strong it almost hurt. But much expected he did t listen or care..he kept hammering into your sweet cunt until fluid started spraying everywhere like a damn faucet.

You were squirming and grinding against him as you squirted all over his cock and he was loving the sight.. “mhm! Fuck yeah baby! Make a mess!” He groaned out as his thrusts got sloppy. “Milk this fucking cock baby oh yeah..oh yeah..” soon after his was filling you full, stuffing you full of his warm sticky cum. You laid their like a corps, exhausted and sore already. But before you knew it Kiri was back to his sweet caring ways. “You ok baby? Did I go to rough honey?” He said caressing your face before giving small gentle pecks all over your face and neck.

“I’m sorry baby..I just..want to keep you safe I had to make sure you understand that your not alone in this or ever baby..ok?” He said grabbing a towel cleaning up the twos of y’all’s mess. “Y-yes..yes baby I understand..I love you so much..” you said intertwining you hand with his.

“I love you more baby..get some rest I’ll put on a movie..” he said as he put your pants back on and snuggled up next to you once again.

[seewetter]

1925 Reporter: So what does politically correct mean?

1925 Stalin: It means to obey the party line.

1925 Reporter: So it's possible to not obey the party line, right. Right?

1925 Anakin Skywalker: -

1925 Russian émigré: Hey Americans, Russia under Stalin was a nightmare. We don't know what to call his violent persecution of any dissent, but maybe politically correct will work?

1930s Reporter: So what does woke mean?

1930s Interviewee: We mean streetwise. To be woke is to realize the very real danger of racist cops and racists on the street. And to not forget where we are, and not to fall asleep at the steering wheel when it comes to progress against these unjust laws. Perhaps one day our civil rights movement might make a valiant effort to end that racism, that danger.

1940s New Yorker: So what does politically correct mean?

1940s New Yorker Leftist: Some people here in New York really mindlessly obey the local Communist Party. If the party agrees on something, it's gotta be right you know? We call those people politically correct to make fun of them.

1970s No One Asked...

1970s New Leftist: *Sigh* Chairman Mao looks so dreamy. Did you hear that he's all about free love and sexual liberty?

1970s Chairman Mao: Are women bourgeois?

1970s New Leftist: Mao says in his little red book we must hold the party line. Let's be politically correct!

post-1970s progressives: Huh, maybe this is a good word to describe decency and consideration for others.

1981 Ronald Reagan: I'm gonna pass laws so draconic and turn America into such an impoverished nightmare society that people are guaranteed to get really upset at the small things in their lives that they *can* change, cause I've made all the big things completely screwed up. This will result in right-wingers who can't stand good-faith left-wing criticism and "left-wingers" who get lost attacking other people for minor failings and incompatible lifestyles. If I play my cards right just 6 years from now some guy will explode at new ideas in education and even at universities there'll be moral busybodies who police other people's perceived failings. Yeeehaw!

1987 Interviewer: So what does political correctness mean?

1987 Allan Bloom, frothing at the mouth: College campuses. Universities. Students. hwuahifb. Young people. They have management students plan little real-life projects. The professors talk about the future of the industry and what jobs might exist! They do critical thinking exercises! BURN IT ALL! GNARHRGI!!!!

post-1987 right-wingers who need a book deal: wow. What a beautifully nebulous concept! Time to smear everyone and everything we hate and argue for more love towards our favorite pass-times: being insufferable. After all, some people on the Left TM attack people for small perceived moral failings.

1990s Press, *taking notes*: Political Correctness is when the Totalitarian Spanish Inquisition performs Witch Hunts and calls minor things by Extreme Names like Racism just like in George Orwell 1984.

1990s Russian émigrés from 1925 onward, now American neoconservatives: FINALLY someone listens to us about our experiences. I think. That's how I remember my experiences anyway. Gosh it's the 90s, that was half a century back! I'm old, memory is failing me. But these kids on them there college campuses sure do trigger my PTSD from my days under Stalin. Am I so out of touch? No, it's the children who are wrong.

2014 Curious person: So what does woke mean?

2014 Buzzfeed: We mean like hip. Here, take this "What kind of feminist am I quiz" where all answers you give, even misogynist ones, make you a feminist. To be woke is to be with the times, y'know. Being woke means riding the train of history. Just, y'know, without consulting the actual history of AAVE words. That might involve effort and we're way too cool and underpaid to put in effort.

2014 Anti-Feminist: Is this website a good source for what The Left TM wants? Must be.

2016 Asker: So what does woke mean?

2016 Terminally Insular "Leftist": Look, I get all my politics off Twitter and Buzzfeed, except I hate both. I live online and never try fixing things IRL. Woke is like bad Leftism: characterized by vanity, hysteria, shallowness.

2016 Anti-Feminist: Oh, like female vanity, female hysteria, female screeching harpies, female superficiality.

2016 Right-wing lobbyist: *taking notes*

2016 Right-wing spin doctor: *Hey*, guess which cool new word just dropped?! It's called woke, and you're not gonna believe this! It sounds trendy, it has no historical baggage, it lets us make fun of the Left, it only has one syllable and it'll get us a foot in the door with people terminally detached from actual politics.

2016 Right-wing spin doctor's polycule: Honey, come home. Please! We don't need your giant paycheck, we just want you. It's Christmas, can't you even leave the office on Christmas? Please?

2017 Confused person: So what is woke?

2017 Wise right-wing sage: Well. Uh. Um. It. Uh. When Left bad. Uh.

2017 Confused person: Is it different to political correctness? Is it the same thing? It seems like the same thing...

2017 Right-wing thought leader: We must oppose it with all our might. And by it I mean wokeness. And by wokeness, I mean um, uh, um, let me see, um, uh, uh...

The year is 2025. Legislators are passing anti-woke legislation. They still have the decency to put "wokeness" in quotation marks, because even they know, deep down, this has gotten ridiculous.

It’s kinda funny how “woke” as a negative term started amongst the online-left to criticize/make fun of obviously superficial and shallow displays of corporate inclusiveness (which has been clearly vindicated recently) but then the right coopted the term and for awhile they supposedly used it in the same sense of “it’s not actually sincere you’re dicksucking corporations the right is the true enemy of elites” but then it suddenly turned into “any minorities any acknowledgement a minority exists in this work of fiction is woke and grooming”

Similar story with terms like “politically correct” or “identity politics” which originated as critiques from the left but which the right grabbed onto and drained of any meaning

[acute-crashout-jeyuso]

Checkmate: Book 3 of 3 BTR Series: a Jhea Fanfic.

Chapter 11: Cal pt. 2

Meanwhile in an undisclosed location..

Valerie pressed the cold rag against Rhea’s burning forehead, her own hands trembling as she tried to keep her breathing steady. The fever had worsened over the past few hours, Rhea’s body convulsing in fits of shivering, her skin clammy and unnaturally pale. Valerie knew what was happening—toxic shock syndrome. The infection was taking hold, and if they didn’t act fast, Rhea wouldn’t make it through the night.

“Stay with me, Mamba,” Valerie murmured, brushing damp strands of hair away from Rhea’s face. “You gotta hold on.”

Rhea’s lips parted slightly, but no words came out. Her chest rose and fell in uneven breaths, her body trapped between fevered delirium and painful consciousness. She twitched, her fingers curling weakly against the sweat-soaked sheets beneath her.

Valerie bit her lip, her mind racing. They were running out of time. The man who took Rhea hadn’t exactly been kind—no proper medical treatment, barely enough water, and whatever wounds she’d sustained had clearly turned septic. Valerie had seen this before. She knew where it led.

The door creaked open, and Valerie tensed as a shadow entered the dimly lit room.

“What’s her condition?” The voice was deep, clipped, void of emotion.

Valerie didn’t bother looking up as she wrung out the rag and placed it back on Rhea’s forehead. “She’s dying.”

A pause. Then, a slow exhale. “Fix her.”

Valerie’s eyes snapped up, a glare cutting through the dim light. “She needs a hospital, antibiotics—actual medical care, not me dabbing her with a fucking wet cloth.”

The man—tall, broad, face obscured by the darkness—stepped closer. “That’s not an option.”

“She won’t last another twelve hours like this,” Valerie shot back. “You need her alive, don’t you? Then let me do my job.”

Silence stretched between them.

Then, the man sighed. “What do you need?”

Valerie clenched her jaw. “IV fluids, antibiotics, something to control the fever. And I need her moved somewhere cleaner—this place is a breeding ground for infection.”

The man was quiet for a moment before turning toward the door. “I’ll see what I can do.”

As he left, Valerie let out a slow breath, her hands trembling as she turned back to Rhea.

“Just hold on,” she whispered, gripping Rhea’s hand. “Dustin will be back with everything.”

After some time, Dustin stood in the doorway, his presence looming as he tossed the supplies onto the small table beside Valerie. IV bags, a vial of antibiotics, syringes—enough to keep Rhea from slipping further into the abyss. He watched as Valerie immediately got to work, her hands moving with practiced precision as she prepped an IV line.

“I should’ve let her die,” Dustin muttered under his breath, arms crossed.

Valerie’s hands paused for the briefest moment before she turned to face him. “This shit is getting—”

Before she could finish, Dustin moved. His hand shot out, gripping her hair and yanking her head back, forcing her to meet his eyes.

“Think long and hard about what you’re about to say,” he warned, voice dangerously low.

Valerie swallowed hard, but her gaze didn’t waver. Her scalp burned from his grip, but she refused to give him the satisfaction of reacting. Instead, she let out a slow breath and spoke evenly.

“Let me work on her.”

Dustin held her there for a second longer before releasing her, watching as she stumbled slightly before regaining her composure. She turned back to Rhea, rolling up the sleeves of her sweat-soaked shirt as she inserted the IV catheter into Rhea’s arm.

As the saline began to drip, Valerie murmured under her breath, more to herself than anyone else.

“You’re not dying today, Mamba.”

Dustin lingered for a moment before stepping back, his eyes flicking between Rhea’s pale face and Valerie’s determined one. Then, without another word, he exited the room, closing the door behind him.

After a few hours, Valerie exited the room after she managed to finally get Rhea’s fever down. She took one last look at Rhea, letting out a quiet sigh before stepping out and shutting the door behind her. She climbed the stairs with heavy steps, her mind racing, before finally reaching the surveillance room where Dustin sat, his eyes glued to the monitors.

“How long is your revenge going to take?” Valerie asked, arms crossed as she leaned against the doorframe.

Dustin didn’t look away from the screen, his expression indifferent. “Don’t tell me you’ve grown soft for The Black Mamba.”

Valerie’s jaw tightened. “I don’t want to do this anymore.”

Dustin let out a sharp chuckle, finally turning his head to look at her. “You should’ve thought of that before you approached me at Demetri’s funeral.”

At the mention of her ex-boyfriend’s name, Valerie flinched. Her eyes darkened, but she pushed forward. “There’s no use anymore! We could just put her in the van and drive back to Stamford.”

Dustin threw his head back in laughter. “That would be the day, huh?”

Valerie’s patience snapped. “We’ve done all we said we would do! For God’s sake, Dustin, her fingernails are gone! She’s bandaged up like a damn hospital patient! She is not The Black Mamba anymore!”

Dustin’s smirk wavered, but he stayed silent.

Valerie pointed at the screen, her voice rising. “That is not a trained assassin anymore! That’s a broken woman who probably doesn’t even have the strength to fight back. So tell me, Dustin, what more do you want?”

Dustin leaned back in his chair, his fingers tapping against the desk. “You don’t get it, do you?” He nodded toward the monitor. “She doesn’t have to look like The Black Mamba anymore. She just has to be her. And if you think that part of her is gone, you’re dead wrong.”

Valerie shook her head in frustration. “This isn’t revenge anymore, this is torture. And I won’t be a part of it.”

Dustin narrowed his eyes at her, his voice dropping to a dangerous whisper. “Then I suggest you tread carefully, Valerie. Because walking away? That’s not an option.”

—

June 14th, 2025

Rhea rubbed cocoa butter over her large tummy, her fingers gliding gently over the stretched skin. A small smile played on her lips as she felt a strong kick from inside.

“Jeyson, stop superkicking me,” she murmured, shaking her head as another nudge followed.

She washed her hands and exited the bathroom, stepping into the dimly lit bedroom. Jey was already in bed, leaning against the headboard, his muscular arms crossed over his chest as he watched her with an easy smirk.

He clapped his hands together. “Get your sexy self in this bed now.”

Rhea rolled her eyes but obeyed, making her way over with exaggerated slowness. As she climbed in, Jey reached out, running his fingers along the side of her belly before resting his palm against it.

“Did I ever tell you how complete you look?” he asked softly.

Rhea snorted. “Completely overweight?”

Jey made a tsk sound and shook his head. “Nah, Mami… completely beautiful.”

His voice was full of sincerity, and Rhea felt her chest tighten. Pregnancy had made her self-conscious, but with Jey, she never felt anything less than adored.

She sighed as he pressed a slow, lingering kiss to her stomach. “You always know what to say.”

Jey smirked, looking up at her. “That’s ‘cause I mean it.”

She ran her fingers through his short curls, relaxing into the warmth of his body beside her. The kicks inside her softened, as if Jeyson knew he was safe too.

“How about me and you tomorrow before the party, we go and pick out Jeyce’s birthday gift?” Jey suggested, his voice filled with that playful tone that always made Rhea smile.

Rhea frowned a bit. “Baby, I already picked it out for him,” she replied, her words slightly casual, as if she hadn’t even realized Jey was going to suggest going together.

Jey’s eyebrows shot up, surprised. “Baby!” he exclaimed. “You didn’t even give me a chance to be part of the fun!”

Rhea tossed him an apologetic smile, before kissing him softly on the forehead “Well, you didn’t answer the phone, and it was the last one. So, I went ahead and grabbed it.”

Jey pouted. “What did you get him then?”

Rhea smirked and proudly said, “I bought him an all-black record player with the vinyl Louder Than Bombs.” She added, “Don’t worry, I put ‘From Bonus Mommy and Daddy’ on the gift tag.”

Jey’s expression shifted from playful to confused. “Louder Than Bombs?” he echoed, raising an eyebrow. “What’s that vinyl?”

Rhea’s lips curled into a smile, “It’s an album by The Smiths.”

Jey’s confusion deepened. “The Smiths?” he repeated, sounding incredulous. “What’s so great about a band from the ‘80s? That’s way before Jeyce was even born!”

Rhea chuckled softly. “I know, it’s an old band. But the thing is, Jeyce has been spending a lot of time with Demi lately, and he’s gotten into them. There’s just something about the way their music resonates. It’s soft, melancholic, and honest—just like Jeyce in a lot of ways.”

Jey tilted his head slightly, trying to understand. “So you’re telling me you bought him a vinyl from a band that’s not even around anymore, and it’s because of Demi?”

Rhea nodded, her eyes gleaming with a mixture of affection and understanding. “Yeah. Jeyce has been going through a lot lately, and I think The Smiths speak to him in a way that most music doesn’t. It’s not about being modern; it’s about the depth in their lyrics, the way they capture the complexities of life.”

Jey’s gaze softened as he processed her words. “I guess I never really understood why people like The Smiths. I’ve heard their songs before, but I didn’t get it.”

Rhea reached for Jey’s hand, holding it gently in hers. “It’s not just about the music, Jey. It’s about connection. The way we connect with things that speak to us—whether it’s music, people, or something deeper. Jeyce sees something in their lyrics, something he can relate to. It’s not about the time or era; it’s about finding something that speaks to who you are in the moment.”

Jey stared at her for a long moment, the weight of her words sinking in. “So it’s more than just some vinyl. It’s about you understanding where Jeyce is at and showing him you get him, even if it’s through an old record.”

“Exactly,” Rhea replied softly, giving his hand a reassuring squeeze.

Jey nodded slowly, finally understanding the thoughtfulness behind the gift. “You always know how to give gifts with meaning, don’t you?”

Rhea smiled, shrugging slightly. “I just want to make sure he knows we’re thinking about him, no matter how old he gets.”

Jey leaned forward, pressing a kiss to her stomach. “Well, I might not have understood the whole thing at first, but I get it now. And I’m proud of you for thinking about him the way you do.”

Rhea laughed softly. “It’s not about being proud, babe. It’s about being there for him when he needs us the most. And for now, music is his way of expressing it all.”

Jey wrapped his arms around her, pulling her close. “Well, we’ll make sure he knows how much we love him—through vinyl and everything else.”

—

The next day, Jey and Rhea arrived at Sabrina’s Sweet Tooth, a cozy little bakery known for its irresistible treats. Rhea couldn’t help but smile as she stepped inside, the sweet smell of freshly baked goods wrapping around her like a warm hug. She approached the counter, looking at the young cashier with a pleasant smile.

“I’m here for a birthday cake,” Rhea said. “Should be under Fatu.”

The cashier nodded, gesturing toward the back of the shop. “I’ll grab it for you right away.”

As Rhea waited, she glanced around the bakery. But when she turned to look at Jey, he wasn’t standing beside her. Instead, he was bent slightly forward, his face inches from the display case. His eyes were locked onto something inside with a look of sheer wonder.

Rhea raised an eyebrow, amused. “Baby… what are you doing?” she asked, her voice playful as she walked up to him.

Jey didn’t even glance over at her at first. “It looks so good,” he murmured, clearly mesmerized by what he was staring at.

Rhea followed his gaze and soon found herself looking at a towering mountain of Oreo and chocolate chip cookie brownies. The perfect marriage of two decadent treats—brownies and cookies, piled high into what could only be described as heaven on a platter. The Brookie, as some people called it, was impossible to resist.

Rhea chuckled softly. “Which one, babe?” she teased, already knowing the answer.

Jey’s eyes stayed glued to the dessert, and with a small grin, he pointed toward the platter. “That glorious thing right there.”

Rhea tilted her head slightly, intrigued. “That one?” she asked, still teasing.

Jey turned to her then, his expression breaking into a wide grin. “I want the whole platter.”

Rhea raised an eyebrow. “You’re serious?”

Jey didn’t flinch. “I’m serious.”

Rhea sighed in mock exasperation, shaking her head with a smile. “You really want that much?”

Jey’s grin only widened. “Why not? It’s a birthday celebration. We’re treating ourselves.”

Before Rhea could respond, the cashier returned with the cake, just as she ordered. Rhea took the cake with a smile, but she was still eyeing the Brookie as she set it on the counter.

The cashier, noticing their interest, said brightly, “The Brookies are buy one, get one free today!”

Jey’s eyes lit up. “I’ll take the whole platter, please,” he said eagerly.

The cashier smiled and moved quickly to grab the entire platter of the decadent brownies, carefully packaging them up and totaling everything. Rhea couldn’t help but laugh, watching Jey’s excitement as he stood there, practically bouncing with anticipation.

She paid for the cake and the Brookies, amused by how quickly Jey had decided to indulge in the sweet treat. As the cashier handed them the packaged desserts, Jey grabbed them with both hands, his eyes practically glowing with happiness.

As they made their way out of the bakery, Jey grinned, glancing over at Rhea. “I can’t believe you let me get the whole platter,” she said, still surprised at his bold choice.

Jey shrugged playfully, his voice full of contentment. “I am content with life right now, Mami,” he said, holding the large platter close. “What’s better than cake, cookies, and spending the day with you?”

Rhea laughed, shaking her head at him, but her heart swelled with affection. There was something about Jey’s unapologetic joy that always managed to make her feel lighthearted. “You’re impossible,” she teased.

They made their way to the car, and Jey placed the cake and Brookies carefully in the backseat. As Rhea began to open the passenger door of the Tahoe, she hesitated for a moment, feeling the strain of her late trimester taking a toll on her body. Jey immediately noticed, his eyes softening with concern.

He quickly moved to her side and gently helped her into the seat, supporting her with his steady hands. “Got you, Mami,” he murmured softly.

Rhea smiled gratefully, leaning into him as he closed the door behind her. “Thanks, babe,” she said, her voice full of warmth. “I don’t know what I’d do without you.”

Jey gave her a wink as he made his way to the driver’s side. “Well, I’ll always be here for you, no matter what.”

As he slid into the driver’s seat, he glanced over at Rhea, his gaze softening as he took in the sight of her, even more beautiful in her pregnant glow. He couldn’t wait to see the look on Jeyce’s face when he opened his presents later, but for now, he was content to just be with Rhea. The road ahead was full of surprises, but with her by his side, Jey felt like nothing could stop them.

Rhea leaned back in her seat, feeling the weight of the day’s sweetness, both from the desserts and from being with Jey. She closed her eyes for a moment, savoring the calm, knowing that, in this moment, everything was going great.

—

The song ‘I Love You For All The Seasons’ by The Fuzz played in the backyard as it remained alive with laughter, chaos, and the unmistakable aftermath of a sugar rush. Jeyce and Demi bounced around like wild animals, their energy seemingly endless as they ran circles around the patio furniture, the effects of the Brookies hitting them in full force. Their giggles filled the warm air, making it clear they had no plans of calming down anytime soon.

Meanwhile, Jaciyah and his girlfriend, Daya, sat comfortably on the couch inside, lazily stroking Rhea’s fluffy guinea pig, Bartholomew. The tiny creature twitched its nose as Jaciyah ran a finger over its soft fur, while Daya rested her chin on her hand, watching the interaction.

On the patio, Jey stood by the grill, flipping the burgers with practiced ease. The scent of sizzling meat filled the air, mingling with the faint traces of chlorine from the half-constructed pool in the backyard. The ground was still a mess, dirt and gravel scattered across the yard, but Jey hadn’t let that stop him from throwing a proper barbecue. His patio was untouched by the renovations, and that was all he needed.

Beside him, their dogs Barry and Bella stood alert, their eyes locked onto the grill, tails wagging in anticipation.

Inside, Rhea held the bowl of seasoned steaks, waiting for Jey to be ready for the next batch of meat. However, as she took a step forward, a sudden sharp kick from Jeyson made her freeze. The unexpected pressure knocked the wind out of her, forcing her to clutch the edge of the counter.

She set the bowl down quickly, sucking in a slow breath as another strong kick followed.

Daya, who had been casually watching her from the couch, straightened up, concern flashing across her face. “Mrs. Fatu, are you okay?” she asked, her voice edged with worry.

Rhea groaned quietly, one hand pressing against her belly as she tried to breathe through the discomfort. “I’m fine,” she reassured her, though her voice was strained. She exhaled slowly, shaking her head as she gently rubbed her stomach. “Just baby Jeyson thinking it’s okay to kick the hell out of me.”

Daya gave her a knowing smile. “Sounds like he’s already trying to be a little wrestler like his dad.”

Rhea huffed a small laugh, still massaging the spot where her son had just launched his assault. “Yeah, well, he better save those superkicks for when he’s actually out in the world.”

Jaciyah chuckled from the couch. “Better hope he doesn’t come out putting people in the Uso Splash straight out the womb.”

Rhea rolled her eyes but smiled, finally straightening up. “If he does, I’m sending him straight to his father.”

She grabbed the bowl again, heading toward the patio door where Jey was still focused on the grill. As she stepped outside, she caught him in the middle of a conversation with Barry and Bella, who were both staring at him like they were deeply invested in whatever he was saying.

“No, y’all ain’t gettin’ none,” Jey was saying, pointing the tongs at the dogs as if they could understand him. “Don’t even try it.”

Rhea smirked as she set the bowl down next to him. “Babe, you know they’re not gonna listen, right?”

Jey turned toward her, eyes scanning her face with slight concern. “You good, baby?” he asked, catching the way she was still lightly holding her stomach.

Rhea nodded. “Yeah, just your son reminding me he’s in there training for his first WrestleMania.”

Jey laughed, flipping another steak. “That’s my boy.”

Rhea shook her head, smiling as she leaned against the counter, watching as their family and friends enjoyed the day. Despite the chaos, the half-finished yard, and the sugar-fueled madness, everything was nice.

Jeyce and Demi came running up to them, practically vibrating with excitement. Their eyes were wide, their movements erratic—the clear signs of a sugar rush in full effect.

Jeyce grabbed onto Rhea’s arm, practically bouncing in place. “Rhea! Can I cut my cake?!” he asked, his voice an octave higher than usual.

Jey, standing beside the grill, gave his son a pointed look. “Don’t even try it, lil’ man,” he warned. “You haven’t even had your food yet.”

Jeyce groaned dramatically, throwing his hands in the air. “But you gave us the Brookies!”

Jey narrowed his eyes. “I gave you each one Brookie. Just one.”

Rhea, who had been watching the exchange with amusement, turned to her husband, her brow lifting slightly. “You gave them one?”

Jey looked at her suspiciously, picking up on the shift in her tone. “Yeah… one.” His gaze sharpened as he studied her face. “Don’t tell me you gave them more than one?”

Rhea pressed her lips together, her silence saying everything.

Jey’s jaw dropped. “Baby!”

Rhea shrugged, feigning innocence. “They looked so happy,” she defended. “And they asked so nicely.”

Jeyce and Demi took that as their cue to bolt, giggling as they ran into the house before Jey could lecture them further.

Jey sighed, rubbing his hand over his face. “See? This is why they’re bouncin’ off the damn walls!”

Rhea chuckled, wrapping an arm around his waist. “Relax, baby. It’s a party. Let them have fun.”

Jey exhaled, shaking his head. “Yeah, well, when they throw up from all the sugar, you clean it.”

Rhea smirked. “Deal.”

Jey shook his head again, but there was a smile tugging at his lips. This was his life, just like he wanted.

“UNCLE JON!”

Jey and Rhea turned their heads as Jeyce pulled his girlfriend, Demi, by the hand, both rushing toward the front door. Excitement radiated off Jeyce as he sprinted ahead, nearly knocking over a side table in his eagerness.

Inside, Jon and Trinity had just stepped in, pushing a sleek black double stroller where their twin baby boys, Jarrell and Judah, were comfortably nestled. The moment Jeyce spotted them, he wasted no time launching himself at Jon, wrapping his arms around his uncle in a tight hug.

“Hey, nephew!” Jon laughed, nearly stumbling back from the impact before returning the hug.

Rhea smiled at the sight and patted Jey’s arm. “I’ll go greet them, baby.”

Jey leaned down, pressing a lingering kiss to her lips. “Go ahead, mama.”

He watched her as she walked toward the family, her pregnancy giving her an even more radiant glow. Jey let out a small breath, shaking his head with a smirk before turning his focus back to the grill. He flipped the burgers, setting them aside on a tray, then reached for the seasoned steaks, carefully placing them over the open flame. The air filled with the mouthwatering aroma of sizzling meat.

Just as he settled into his rhythm, the patio door slid open, and Jey didn’t need to turn to know who it was.

“What up, Uce?” Jon’s familiar voice greeted him as he stepped outside.

Jey smirked, grabbing the tongs. “Ain’t nothin’ much, just tryin’ to keep the peace before these kids burn my damn house down.”

Jon let out a deep chuckle, glancing toward the house where Jeyce and Demi were now chatting with Trinity. “Yeah, I saw Jeyce runnin’ on a sugar rush. Y’all let them loose on the sweets?”

Jey sighed, shaking his head. “Man, I gave ‘em one Brookie. Just one.” He turned his head and shot Jon an exasperated look. “Rhea? She prolly’ gave them three each.”

Jon let out a loud laugh, clapping Jey on the back. “Damn, Uce. You losin’ control of your own house.”

Jey scoffed, flipping a steak. “Man, don’t remind me. She always settin’ me up, then lookin’ at me all innocent like she ain’t just turn these kids into straight-up maniacs.”

Jon grinned, cracking open a beer and leaning against the railing. “That’s what happens when you marry a mastermind.”

Jey smirked, shaking his head. “Yeah, well, that’s my mastermind.”

Jon took a sip of his beer, his expression shifting slightly. “How she doin’, though? For real.”

Jey’s movements slowed for a second before he sighed. “She good. Just tired. This pregnancy hittin’ her harder than she lets on.”

Jon nodded, watching the grill. “You makin’ sure she takin’ it easy?”

Jey let out a dry laugh. “Tryin’ to. But you know Rhea. Telling her to rest is like tellin’ the sun not to shine.”

Jon smirked. “Yeah, well, she’s definitely one of us.”

Jey chuckled, shaking his head. “No doubt.”

Jon took another sip, then nodded toward the driveway. “Ma and Pops land yet?”

Jey flipped the last steak, watching the juices sizzle. “Yeah, they should be pullin’ up soon in a few minutes.”

Jon let out a low whistle. “Damn. Whole squad in one place.”

Jey smirked, tapping the tongs against the grill. “Ain’t nothin’ more important than family, Uce.”

Jon clinked his beer against Jey’s tongs. “Ain’t that the truth.”

“UNCLE OOOH AHH!”

Jey and Jon turned toward the front door as Joe stepped inside, his booming presence filling the room. His wife, Galina, walked in beside him, her warm smile already set on Rhea.

“Look at you,” Galina said, pulling Rhea into a gentle embrace. “You are glowing.”

Rhea chuckled, rubbing her belly. “You’re like the third person to say that today.”

Joe, meanwhile, scooped Jeyce into a bear hug. “Damn, nephew! You gettin’ big on me.”

Jeyce grinned. “I been eatin’ good, Uncle Joe!”

Joe ruffled his hair. “I bet. With your pops on the grill, y’all probably eatin’ better than me.” Galina gave her husband of ten years a playful smack on the his arm.

After giving Rhea a quick hug, Joe crossed the living room, heading for the backyard where Jey and Jon were manning the grill. As soon as he stepped outside, he took a deep breath, nodding in approval at the scent of seared seasoned meat.

“Aight, who’s on the grill?”

Jey smirked. “Who you think?”

Joe let out a deep chuckle, pulling both of his cousins into a quick, brotherly hug. “Man, it’s good to see y’all.”

Jon clapped Joe on the back. “Same, Uce. You know it ain’t a real cookout ‘til you show up.”

Joe grabbed a beer from the cooler before leaning against the patio railing. His eyes drifted toward the house, where Rhea was now sitting on the couch, her hand resting on her belly as Galina and Trinity talked around her.

“Yo,” Joe said, nudging Jey. “Your woman looks like she’s about to pop.”

Jey let out a short laugh, flipping the steaks. “Due date’s mid-August.”

Joe took a sip of his beer. “Damn, you ready for that?”

Jey exhaled through his nose, glancing toward the house before turning back to the grill. “Yeah. But I ain’t gonna lie, this pregnancy been different.”

Joe smirked. “She hit the I hate you phase yet?”

Jon let out a loud laugh as Jey shook his head. “Bruh…” Jey ran a hand down his face. “I accidentally ate one of her ice cream sandwiches, and I swear to God, it was like I started World War III.”

Joe nearly spit out his drink. “Oh, hell no.”

Jon was still laughing. “She probably looked at you like you committed a crime.”

Jey gave him a deadpan look. “She did, Uce. I ain’t never seen her so mad in my life. Talkin’ ‘bout how could you do this to me? Like I just betrayed the whole family.”

Joe was doubled over laughing now. “Yo, you never mess with a pregnant woman’s cravings, man. That’s a death wish.”

Jey sighed, flipping the last steak. “Trust me, I learned my lesson.”

Joe took another sip of his beer, shaking his head. “Man… fatherhood looks real good on you.”

Jey looked at him for a moment before smirking. “Yeah… it feels real good too.”

Joe took another swig of his beer, glancing around at the massive pile of dirt and construction materials in the backyard. “So, I don’t mean to be curious, but why the hell is your backyard gone?”

Jey let out a laugh, shaking his head as he flipped the last steak. “Man, ever since Rhea got her little inheritance, all she wanna do is spend. This woman wants a pool now.”

Joe smirked. “Shit, at least she’s giving back.”

Jon nodded in agreement. “Hell yeah, man. ‘Cause I’m takin’ off all these days to be with the boys and Trin’, and she got me doing seminars and meet-and-greets for her charity foundation. If anything, Rhea is helping us stay afloat.”

Joe chuckled. “Yeah, man. Ever since I stepped back from wrestling for a bit, she got me doing the same thing in Florida. I’ve been workin’ with her on some shit down there, helping set up events. Rhea’s helping the family more than you think.”

Jey looked toward the house, his expression softening. Through the patio doors, he could see Rhea sitting on the couch, laughing as Jaciyah excitedly showed off the guinea pig to Galina and Trinity. The warmth in her face, the way her body instinctively cradled their unborn son—it filled his chest with something deeper than love.

Still watching her, Jey’s voice grew quiet. “Thank you for saving her that day.”

Jon glanced at his twin, reading the weight behind his words. He knew exactly what Jey was talking about—Orlando. The blood transfusion. The day everything nearly slipped away.

Jon exhaled, rubbing his chin before responding. “Anytime, Uce.” He patted Jey’s shoulder, his voice steady. “She family for real. Not just ‘cause she carryin’ our blood now, but… somethin’ deeper than that.”

Jey nodded, swallowing back the emotion creeping up his throat. “Yeah… deeper than that.”

Jey continued, “But shit y’all I don’t mean to brag but you know she about to be in Forbes?”

Joe nearly choked on his beer. “Get the fuck outta here.”

Jey smirked, flipping a steak and nodding. “Forreal. They called her this past week, they wanna do a special edition.”

Jon raised an eyebrow. “What they finna call that?”

Jey grinned, pride clear in his voice. “‘First & Only Female Billionaire of Sports Entertainment.’”

Joe let out a low whistle. “Damn. I thought she inherited nine-fifty?”

Jey nodded. “She flipped it. Now she got more than a billion, dude. I tell you, man… she is set.”

Joe leaned against the grill, smirking. “I like how you said she instead of we.”

Jey chuckled, shaking his head. “That’s her money. I like what she’s doin’ with it. Shit… to be honest, money never really changed her.”

Joe grinned. “That’s good! That means the man who gave her that money knew what he was doing.”

Jey’s jaw tightened at that. His hands clenched briefly on the tongs before he relaxed. “Yeah… that fucker.”

Jon glanced at him, sensing the shift in mood. “Aye, man. He made sure Rhea was good before he bit the dust. Be thankful for that.”

Jey exhaled slowly, nodding. He didn’t want to be thankful—not to Morris. The mere mention of him annoyed the hell out of Jey. But still… he had to admit, the man secured Rhea’s future.

Before he could dwell on it too much, Joe perked up, his ears catching a familiar sound. “I think I hear that laugh.”

Jey and Jon turned toward the house and saw their father, Solofa, standing in the doorway, his deep laughter echoing as he hugged Jeyce. Beside him, their mother, Talisua, held Jeyce’s face in her hands, planting a kiss on his forehead.

Then Jey watched as Solofa wrapped Rhea in a big hug, his strong arms pulling her in like she was his own daughter. Rhea melted into the embrace, and Jey couldn’t help but smile at the sight.

And just when he thought the house was already full, their younger brother Joseph strolled in, his arm wrapped around his wife Almia.

Jon grinned. “Shit, we got the whole damn family here now.”

Solofa opened the patio door, taking in the sight of his sons gathered around the grill. A warm smile stretched across his face. “Mālō le soifua, boys,” he greeted before pulling all four of them into a tight hug.

Joseph dapped up his two older brothers before turning to their cousin. “Joe, what’s good, Uce?”

Joe grinned, slapping Joseph’s back. “Man, just chillin’. You know how it is.”

Solofa, ever observant, glanced past them and raised an eyebrow. “Son… why the hell is there a big hole the size of my ass in the ground?”

Jey, Jon, and Joseph burst into laughter.

Jey wiped a tear from his eye. “Rhea wanted a pool, so… we’re getting a pool, Dad.”

Solofa shook his head, chuckling. “I might just have to sell my properties in Florida and move here.”

Jey scoffed, flipping a steak. “Dad, there is no way.”

Solofa crossed his arms, his smirk growing. “And why not? Me and your mother will have fresh Pani Popo ready for you and Rhea every week.”

Jon raised his hands. “Shit, Pops, come to our crib instead.”

Jey smirked, side-eyeing his brother. “Yeah, Dad, go to the oldest twin by nine minutes.”

Jon rolled his eyes. “Man, I knew you were gonna say that.”

Joe chuckled, shaking his head. “Y’all still arguing about nine damn minutes?”

Joseph laughed. “Man, you know they never let that shit go.”

Solofa just smiled, shaking his head as he watched his boys bicker like they were kids again. “Doesn’t matter where we go—y’all all gonna be eating at our table, anyway.”

—

After Jey finished grilling, the scent of seared steak and burgers lingered as everyone gathered around the dining table. Laughter and conversation flowed freely, the atmosphere thick with the kind of love and comfort that only family could bring. Plates clinked, utensils scraped against dishes, and voices overlapped in easy rhythm, filling the house with a joyful hum.

Jey leaned back in his chair, his arm draped over Rhea’s shoulders, watching the scene unfold with quiet pride. This was what he had always wanted—a full house, family surrounding them, happiness radiating from every corner.

Rhea, cradling her growing belly, let out a soft chuckle as she watched Jaciyah and Daya sneak extra fries from each other’s plates. Across from them, Jon was bouncing one of his twin boys on his knee while Trinity wiped drool off the other twin’s chubby cheek. Joe and Galina were deep in conversation with Solofa and Talisua, reminiscing about old stories from Solofa’s time in the business. Even Joseph and Almia, usually more reserved, were fully engaged, laughing as Jeyce sat next to Demi, he animatedly retold some wild tale from school.

Jey let the moment sink in before clapping his hands together. “Alright, y’all, time for the main event.”

Jeyce’s head snapped up, his eyes wide with anticipation. “The cake?!”

Jey smirked, standing up. “Of course, the cake. You think we’d forget?”

Jeyce practically vibrated with excitement as Jey disappeared into the kitchen. Moments later, he returned, carrying the cake carefully in both hands. Gasps and murmurs of appreciation spread around the room as everyone caught sight of it.

It was a masterpiece—a cake designed to look like a stack of vinyl records, each layer crafted with meticulous detail to resemble Jeyce’s favorite albums. At the very top, Chewbacca stood proudly, holding a miniature version of The Smiths’ album cover. It was the perfect blend of his two greatest loves, Star Wars and The Smiths, and Jeyce’s eyes shone with disbelief.

“Yo, that’s so sick!” Jeyce gasped, practically bouncing on his feet.

Jey chuckled as he grabbed a candle, carefully pressing it into the cake before lighting it. The small flame flickered, casting a warm glow over his son’s beaming face.

Stepping back, Jey slid his arm around Rhea’s waist, pulling her close. She leaned into him, her own smile soft and full of love as she watched their son soak in the moment.

“Alright, everyone,” Jey said, his voice warm and full of pride. “Let’s do this.”

As the first notes of Happy Birthday rang out, voices filled the room, rising together in perfect harmony.

“Happy birthday to you…”

—

Present

Jey lunged forward, his entire body coiled with rage, ready to tear Brent apart. But Cal intercepted, gripping Jey’s arm with unyielding strength.

“Let me go!” Jey snarled, his chest rising and falling with heavy breaths.

Cal didn’t move. “He has information.”

Jey’s nostrils flared. His fists clenched so tight his knuckles cracked. “What fucking information?”

Cal turned to Brent, who refused to meet Jey’s eyes. Instead, Brent’s head hung low, shame carving deep lines into his face.

“Tell him,” Cal demanded.

Brent exhaled sharply, his shoulders sagging under the weight of what he was about to say. “They’re dead… the other two that helped me.”

Jey didn’t flinch. “I don’t give a fuck about them. Where is Rhea?”

Brent hesitated before shaking his head. “I—I don’t know. That wasn’t supposed to be part of the plan.”

Jey’s patience snapped. “What the fuck was the initial plan, then?”

Brent’s throat bobbed as he swallowed hard. “I don’t want to say this.”

Cal picked up the cattle rod from the nearby table, the metal humming as he clicked it on. “You’re going to tell him.”

Brent’s eyes widened, his body stiffening. He licked his lips nervously before blurting out, “It was just supposed to be revenge! That’s all!”

Jey’s jaw tightened. “Revenge? On who?”

Brent exhaled sharply. “Adam. He was supposed to get back at Matthew, but Adam disappeared. Went into hiding. So Matthew took it upon himself.”

Jey’s stomach twisted at the name. “Matt? Rhea’s ex-husband?”

Brent nodded, guilt etched deep into his expression. “Matthew befriended Rhea at the gym on purpose. He was under the illusion that she stole Adam’s share of the money from her sale, and he wanted it back. He was only supposed to get close to her until he found the money.”

Jey’s heart pounded against his ribcage. “But what happened?”

Brent hesitated before continuing. “Matthew fell in love with Rhea. He stopped answering our calls. We didn’t hear from him for a while, but then, in February 2023, he came back to me, Adam, and Thomas. He told us someone sent him a picture of Rhea coming out of some wrestler’s hotel room… and from then on, Matthew changed the plan.”

Jey’s blood ran cold. He knew exactly whose hotel room Rhea had been in. His.

Jey’s voice was low and dangerous. “What plan?”

Brent’s fingers twitched as he rubbed his palms together. “Matthew decided he would marry her. Wait until she confessed the affair. And then…”

Jey stepped closer, his body radiating fury. “Then what?”

Brent’s lips parted, but the words seemed to stick in his throat.

“Go on!” Jey barked.

Brent flinched. “Then… then he was going to end her life.”

The air in the room turned suffocating. Jey felt like the floor beneath him had given way, like the walls were closing in, but his rage anchored him. His fists trembled, his entire body vibrating with barely contained fury.

He forced himself to breathe through his nose, his mind racing.

“Just to be sure,” Jey said, his voice rough. “February 2023?”

Brent nodded. “Yeah… February 2023.”

Jey’s heart slammed against his ribs. That was the month their affair started. The month Rhea had chosen him over everything else.

His throat tightened, but he pushed forward. “So what was the end goal?”

Brent exhaled slowly, his face haunted. “We were going to eliminate Rhea and then go after Morris.”

Jey’s brow furrowed. “Morris? What the fuck does he have to do with this?”

Brent hesitated before speaking. “Well Matt knew of Morris and Morris knew of Matt.”

Jey’s head spun. Pieces of a puzzle he didn’t even know existed were falling into place. The inheritance. The power struggle. The threats that never made sense before.

His grip on his fury wavered as the realization hit him like a truck.

This wasn’t just about money. This wasn’t just about revenge.

This was about control. About legacy. About something much bigger than he’d ever imagined.

And Rhea… Rhea was at the center of it all.

Jey looked at Cal, “Just one more question.. who is this other man?”

[swiftyangx12]

Continuity Crossover! #5

[D/N] = Designation (Your name)

Cybertronian!Reader

TFP![D/N]: *In their Holoform* Wait, you guys don’t have avatars?

MTMTE![D/N]: *Also in their Holoform* Weird. My crew and I use them whenever we need to visit Earth.

TFA!Bulkhead: We actually don’t have that kind of tech in my universe. *Rubbing his helm*

B-127: Not in mines, either. But, they look cool. You guys look so small.

TFP![D/N]: It’s the average human size, ‘Bee. Wonder why you don’t have these disguises.

MTMTE![D/N]: Oh, wait. One universe where humans haven’t evolved to existence yet, and they haven’t traveled beyond Cybertron until the next few cycles. The other was full-on Cybertronian propaganda led by a corrupted government who were extremely prejudiced against “Organic” life forms and other Cybertronians who possess flight-based frames. Also war-frames.

TFP![D/N]: Oooh right.

TFA!Bulkhead: If you put it that way…You’re kind of on point.

B-127: Technically, we both were led by corrupted governments, but I work for one now. We’re rebuilding everything.

MTMTE![D/N]: That’s true. Reconstructing a better system.

B-127: *Crouching at their level* What’s it like being in a human’s perspective? Are the frames softer like your human friends’? Can you do that “breathing” thing while using the avatars? I gotta ask Wheeljack if he can make something like your Holoforms.

TFA!Bulkhead: Why do you need them now?

TFP![D/N]: The kids need some supplies for school, so shopping for me.

MTMTE![D/N]: Roddy and I have some time off, just to hang and have fun on the planet.

B-127: Hold up. Are you two…

MTMTE![D/N]: *Blushing* No! No way! He only see me as one of his crew mates. His bro, y’know. I don’t think he sees me that way.

[Somewhere Far Away]

MTMTE!Rodimus Prime: *Sensors going off* Why do I feel a disturbance?

[365emotionlessfaces]

@schemmentits sorry for the spam! we’re nearing the end of this one. even now i’m thinking of possibly doing a sequel 😅

The Aspiring Teachers Program

Part 9 WC:~1.1k

‘Oh, unh-unh. No way,’ Ava thought, as she watched Melissa and Barb turn on their heels and start heading for one of the rooms down the hall. She immediately followed them. When she walked through the door, the two women were talking in hushed tones about something clearly important.

“I thought I told y’all that if you had any tea, you had to loop me in. How am I supposed to be the most beautiful principal with all the knowledge if y’all aren’t gonna inform me of the knowledge? Come on, y’all, spill.”

Barb looked to the redhead, waiting for Melissa to make the first move.

“Alright!” Melissa threw her hands up after a few moments of Ava staring into her soul. “I went to the Aspiring Teachers Program a long time ago, when I was goin’ through my divorce. I had a whirlwind romance with a nineteen year old, and gave her my stuffed Ronny Jaworski eagle on the off-chance that she might find me again.”

“Well, that’s stupid,” Ava remarked.

“Thanks, Ava,” Melissa muttered out through clenched teeth.

“No, I mean you got that fine young thing out in the hall practically throwing herself at you, and you worried about some girl you haven’t seen in a million years? Girl, please.”

“That’s the thing, Ava, she is the girl from the Program.” Barb pointed out, before turning to Melissa. “And you told me that you just hated the girl’s name, but you hated it because it reminded you of your young girl from Chicago,” Barb said with a few soft chuckles. The glare she got from the redhead made her smile disappear instantly.

“Oh! Well, go get her then! What are you waiting for?” Ava grabbed Melissa’s arm in an attempt to pull her out the door, but Melissa shook out of the principal’s grasp.

“I can’t.”

“Why not? She’s literally right out there, and clearly she’s still into you if she’s carrying around that weird little eagle thing,” Ava said.

“What if when she realizes who I am she hates me for breakin’ her heart? Then, she never talks to me again?”

Just as Ava was about to tell Melissa how silly she was being, Janine poked her head into the door. “Everything okay?” She asked.

“Janine! Tell Melissa that your little friend out there has it bad for her, and all she needs to do is admit her feelings and we’ll all go back to our regularly scheduled lives. Well, except her. She gonna be gettin’ nasty!” Ava did a little dance for emphasis.

Janine pulled the rest of her little self into the room, and gave Melissa a questioning look. When Melissa wouldn’t look up at Janine, the young girl put the pieces together. She, too, had witnessed the moment Melissa saw Ronny.

“Oh! My God! You’re Em! Of course, you are! The eagle and the red hair, and the fiery attitude, it makes so much sense now! But she-” Janine looked at the door, clearly thinking about you “-doesn’t… oh my god, she has no idea! You gotta tell her, Melissa. It’s like a fairytale come true. Star-crossed lovers. Destiny!”

Melissa groaned loudly after the girl practically shouted the last word. This day was not going anything like how she expected, or wanted! Somehow, Melissa had managed to fall in love with the same girl twice. In her defense, she didn’t know that you were the same girl. It had been so long since she had seen Parent Trap’s face, she hadn’t been sure if she could have picked the girl out of a lineup, but now all she could notice was every similarity between you and the girl from years ago.

The three women just stared at Melissa, waiting for her to say or do something. “Alright!” The redhead huffed. “I’ll do it, but I’m not doin’ it tonight, not with all youse guys around being nosy.”

True to her word, Melissa didn’t confess her feelings that night, much to the dismay of her friends and colleagues. She couldn’t bear it. She just knew the moment you found out that she was the one from the Program all those years ago, that you would never talk to her again. She figured she could try and enjoy one last night of being able to see your beautiful smile and your eyes that shined brighter than some of these kids’ futures. One last night to hear your sweet voice.

Over the following week, Melissa could tell that you could sense the growing tension in the break room growing, but had no idea what was going on, and when you asked, Melissa was increasingly thankful that no one was willing to spill the beans. Janine, Ava, and Barb were all getting increasingly frustrated with Melissa, but none of them would tell you why, and when you asked Melissa about their looks, she panicked and she acted like she had no idea that the women were giving her stranger and stranger looks as the week went on.

It all came to a head on that Thursday. The following day would be a non-contact day. The students wouldn’t be at school, but all of the teachers would. Everyone knew that Melissa would be taking the day off, she hated non-contact days, so the three women who had confronted Melissa last week were ready to cause some chaos.

You were the last to arrive in the break room for lunch, much to Melissa’s dismay. Melissa had already warmed your food, like always, so you took your seat and began eating, choosing to listen to the conversations around you, rather than contribute, definitely being quieter than Melissa had grown used to. Jacob and Janine were talking about a movie they were planning on seeing over the weekend, and Mr. Johnson was telling Ava about this underground casino he’s running.

No one in the room noticed as Ava and Barb made eye-contact and enacted a plan they had been preparing for days. Barb turned to her friend and asked loudly what her plans for the weekend were.

“Yeah, Em, got any special plans?” Ava asked innocently. Janine whipped her head to look at the older women after hearing a nickname that no one used for Melissa. The redhead then watched as Janine had a conversation with you across the room, just through your eyes. Before anyone could say anything else, they all watched as you stood quickly, the force of your chair sliding back causing an awful noise, drawing the attention from anyone who hadn’t already given it, grabbed your plate of food and left the room without a word.

Not a single soul left in the break room knew what to do. They didn’t dare say another word because Melissa already looked like she was going to tear Ava limb from limb.

Barb wondered for a moment if she had actually crossed the line this time. She worried that Ava’s life may truly be in danger. That feeling was not quelled when the redhead stood and glared at them. “I’ll deal with you two later,” Melissa said before stomping out of the room to finally face the music.

Part Ten

[anamericangirl]

Long message ahead (sorry about that LOL):

It's so insane to me how the left will constantly claim to be the pro-woman party and then turn around to tell any woman who disagrees with them that they hope said woman dies in some way or gets raped, and I'm not just talking about that repulsive ask you got. They'll say disgusting things like that even to other leftist women who disagree with them on only a handful of issues. But yeah, sure, they 100% care about the rights and safety of women. Totally.

If I'm honest, that's what "woke me up," so to speak, and I know I'm far from the first - the realization that they claim to want to protect "marginalized"/minority groups until someone from said groups disagrees. Then out come the violent threats and slurs that they reprimand others for or claim that conservatives are doing, thinking they can "revoke your [minority group] card" as if someone will stop being female or POC or homosexual/bisexual or disabled simply for disagreeing. Personally, I think it's them admitting that they use these characteristics as shields, so "revoking" them from those who dare to disagree makes them feel stronger. Since they put so much weight on the "community" aspect, they think kicking out anyone who disagrees will leave the opposition destitute and are implying minorities can't stand on our own.

I'll never stop pointing out that the only people who call minorities "marginalized" (defined as being treated as insignificant or peripheral) are leftists. The only people who are openly treating us as an unimportant second class are leftists, and they are the only ones who have ever consistently implied we are such in society ("you can never escape what we labeled you so that means we gotta either tear everything down and start again, or you can just live in fear").

Like I said, it's nothing new, but it's stopped shocking me when something makes them show their true colors. It just happens to be the election right now.

TLDR: minorities aren't "marginalized" because of Western society, leftists just labeled us that to say exactly what they think of us, and realizing this has freed me.

Also, your blog is awesome.

Well I am very glad you have escaped that toxic mindset and your eyes have been opened to how destructive and despicable the left really is.

They parade identity politics and thrive on the idea that how a person identifies themselves is the end all be all of their entire being and thus they present themselves as a group who is pro-every identity to look like they accept you based on identity alone. But that mask falls off once you dare disagree with them on one thing. Then you are the enemy. And that's because they really don't care about identity. They care about ideoloy and if your ideology doesn't match theirs, then they try to revoke your identity as if they own it and get to decide what it's acceptable for people of certain identities to believe or not believe.

And, as someone who fits into more than one identity they claim to be "pro", I have never been welcomed, accepted or tolerated by them because I don't have the opinions they want me to have.

When you get down to it, if you disagree with them, they are racist, misogynistic, homophobic, transphobic, xenophobic, ableist, etc. and they collectively use more slurs than any other group I have ever seen. But they think it's ok because they're using them on people they don't like.

They aren't good people and I think more and more people are coming to that realization. They are their own worst enemy and their behavior will turn more people away then it will bring to them and that is the only good thing about them.

They attract a lot of people because they are good at publicly playing the empathy card and looking like they care but it doesn't take long to see the that's all bs when you really start watching them.

I am glad you have been freed from that and I'm glad you think my blog is awesome! I think you're awesome :)

[what-even-is-thiss]

Someone very close to me has a learning disability that makes it fully impossible for them to write. I used to be the sort of person who was like “Anybody can write. Just practice!” but one day this person came to me and explained to me very carefully that they really can’t write. Like actually. They struggle to write a three word sentence and even trying makes them exhausted.

That made me think back on my own life and made me realize there’s things I also can’t do. I can’t be consistent and make things properly with my hands freeform. No matter how much effort I put in I can’t crochet, I can’t cut a pie evenly, I can’t draw. I’ve put in time to do these things. Everything I make with my hands turns out janky and off no matter how many hours I put into it.

Here’s the thing. If you really want to do something it’s always worth trying. It’s always worth doing poorly. You’ll most likely get better if you keep trying. You might even get great. I still think you should try.

However, some of us have a cap on what we can accomplish in certain areas. And I recognize that even if something comes naturally to you, you’ve still gotta work really hard for your skill, but look at it this way. No matter how much you practice at basketball, you’re still probably not gonna play it professionally if you’re not tall enough.

That doesn’t mean that you shouldn’t play basketball or that you can’t improve at basketball. It doesn’t mean that tall people who play basketball at a professional level didn’t work hard to get good at basketball. It just means that we all have our limits. And if you’ve worked hard to be good at what you do, sometimes it’s hard to remember that.

I take issue with the whole “talent doesn’t exist you just need to put in the effort” philosophy. Partially because I used to have that philosophy but then I kinda had somebody slap it out of me with a reality check.

[dosesofart]

I love them.

[trappedinafantasy37]

Minthara may have an 8 int stat and doesn't always consider the consequences for her actions. But you know what she does have? She's got that 15 charisma stat and that paladin rizz. But she doesn't use that rizz to flirt you up. Nah, she uses that paladin rizz to convince you to commit reprehensible moral atrocities.

Go ahead, tell me I'm wrong. We all raid that grove with no hesitation and claim the Absolute all because babygurl asked. She doesn't need to flirt with you. She knows she's got you wrapped around her finger. All she's gotta do is point and we go running to make her happy.

[sluckythewizard]

PART OF A BIGGER DOODLE PAGE. WHEN ITS DONE ILL TUCK THE LINK INTO THIS LITTLE X RIGHT HERE ----> [X] I REALLY REALLY LOVE THE TOM N JERRY DYNAMIC W EMIZEL N VEX. IMAGINE BEING SO SO HAUNTED BY A LITTLE GUY THATS JUST SSSSOO FUCKING ANNOYING.