#I can pay all my bills I’m just stressing about saving money

[gwendolinechristie]

I need to make like $600 more a month in a way that doesn’t make me want to die.

[candycryptids]

Lost a bunch of shit in Valheim trying to recover shit in Valheim it’s great I love not knowing why the game crashes randomly and loses progress

[itneverendshere]

Bartender reader :) reader and Rafe get in a fight and it’s a big one (while they are living together) and reader needs some space and decides to sleep on the couch/guest bedroom but Rafe completely forgets about the fight once he realizes what she’s doing and puts his foot down “you can be mad but you’re still sleeping in this bed” kinda deal?

i feel like their fights never last bc they can't be away from each other that long and bc they're just too disgustingly in love🙂‍↔️ thank you for the request!🤎

i would never do you wrong- r.c

pairing: rafe x pogue!reader (bartender!reader universe) warnings: a little angst at first, but happy ending obviously.

You were sitting on the edge of the bed, your hands gripping your phone a little too tight. The conversation you had been having for the past hour felt like running headfirst into a brick wall—no, arguing with a brick wall.

“I don’t see why this is such a big deal,” Rafe groaned, like a toddler, running a hand through his messy hair. “You’ve been working nonstop. You deserve a break.”

“A break?” You scoffed, shaking your head in disbelief. “Baby, I just got promoted. I can’t take time off like that.”

“You’re acting like this job will disappear if you take a week off. I’ve already planned the trip, I’ve already talked to Ward. You don’t even have to worry about money—”

“That’s not the point!” You cut him off, standing now, your body vibrating with frustration. “You don’t get it! This promotion means everything to me. I worked my ass off for it. And now you’re telling me to throw that away for a vacation?

“I’m not telling you to throw anything away, baby. God, you make it sound like I’m asking you to quit.” Rafe crossed his arms, his brow furrowed, and looked at you like you were the unreasonable one, like you'd just insulted him. “It’s just one week. We can afford to relax.”

“Yeah and what about the wedding? If we’re gonna pay for it, we gotta save up.”

He let out an incredulous laugh, his head shaking like he couldn’t believe what he was hearing. “You do remember I’m rich, right?”

You blinked, stunned. “Seriously? That’s your solution? Just throw money at it?”

He sighed, rubbing his temples. “That’s not what I meant. I can pay for the wedding,” he interrupted, stopping in his tracks. “You’re forgetting I have more than enough money to take care of both of us.”

You closed your eyes for a second, breathing deeply. “I don’t want you to pay for it all.” You were pacing now, “It sounds like you think we can just forget about budgeting and responsibilities because you’ve got a trust fund.”

Rafe threw his hands up, exasperated. “I’m just saying we can afford to take some time for ourselves. You don’t need to stress over every little thing.”

You stopped in your tracks, turning sharply to face him. “I’m not ‘stressing over every little thing,’ Rafe. I’m being realistic. We have a wedding to plan. We’ve got bills. I’ve got my career to think about. And no, I don’t want your dad’s money involved in any of that.”

“We have an entire year to save up,” He stared at you, a steely glint in his eyes. “So what? You’re just gonna run yourself into the ground? Burn out completely?” 

Your jaw clenched as you swallowed the lump in your throat. “I’m doing what I need to do. I’ve always done that.”

“And I’ve always been here to help you. But it’s like you don’t even want it.”

“That’s not what this is about,” you argued, stepping closer to him now. “I don’t want to be dependent on that money. I don’t want us to start our marriage with me feeling like I’m just along for the ride.”

Rafe’s face hardened, his lips pressing into a thin, flat line. “So what? You think I’m trying to make you feel small? Like you can’t handle your shit?”

“No. I just want to build something with you. With you, Rafe, not because of Ward’s money.”

He looked away as he pressed his tongue against the inside of his cheek, the muscle moving under his skin as he swallowed whatever hot-headed thing you knew he felt like saying. Then, with a frustrated exhale, he said, “It’s not like I wanted to rely on him either. But I’m trying to make things easier for us.”

“And I appreciate that, I do.” You sighed, taking a breath. “But this promotion... it’s my chance to prove myself. I want to know that I earned everything we have. Not that it came from someone else’s checkbook.”

Rafe’s eyes moved to yours, and you could see the tension still there. He slowly let out a long breath. The air hissed softly between his teeth as his chest fell, shoulders sagging “You’re so fucking stubborn.”

“I learned from the best,” you shot back, crossing your arms.

He let out a bitter chuckle, it didn’t hold any joy. “I’m not trying to control everything. I just want to make sure we have time for us before everything else gets in the way.”

You nodded, “I know. But you can’t just expect me to drop everything and go on vacation because you’ve already decided it.”

“I thought you’d want to spend time with me,” he argued, “I’m trying to make time for us, and you’re treating it like it’s a problem.”

You sighed for what it felt like the millionth time that night, rubbing your temples. “It’s not that, baby. I want to be with you. You know that. But I can’t ignore everything else that’s going on.”

He was silent for a moment, his eyes scanning your face like he was trying to find the right thing to say. Finally, he muttered, “Fine. If you don’t want to take the time off, then don’t.”

You blinked at him, taken aback. “That’s not what I meant.”

“You’re making it seem like I’m asking for something ridiculous.”

You scoffed, frustration taking over again.

“Because to me, it is ridiculous! You don’t get it. You don’t have to think about whether you can afford to take time off, but I do. You’ve never had to think about that stuff.”

His face tightened, jaw clenching as he stared at you like he was trying to stay calm. “And that’s why I’m telling you, you don’t have to worry about it. I’ve got us covered. You’re acting like I’m trying to sabotage your career.”

“You’re not listening to me! This promotion isn’t just a paycheck, it’s everything I’ve worked for. I’ve spent years proving I’m good enough, and now you’re asking me to step back like it’s no big deal.”

Rafe crossed his arms, his posture stiff, defensive. “I’m asking for one week. One. Fucking. Week. You act like the world’s gonna end if you take some time for yourself.”

“Because for me, it doesn’t stop! You don’t understand what it’s like—”

He cut you off again, you hated when he did it. “Don’t. Don’t stand there and tell me I don’t understand. You think I don’t get what it’s like to have shit on the line? I’ve been under pressure my whole life.”

You flinched at his words, your eyes narrowing. “This is different. I’ve always had to make sure I could take care of myself.”

His laugh was bitter, almost sarcastic. “Is that what you think this is? You’re my fiancé.”

You frowned, feeling the hurt in his words, but you couldn’t let it go. “I just don’t want to feel like I’m in your shadow, like I’m always gonna be ‘Rafe’s wife’ instead of my own person.”

“Jesus fucking Christ.” He ran a hand through his hair, pacing now. “It’s not like that. You know it’s not like that.”

“Then what is it like?” you snapped, the words spilling out before you could stop them. “Because every time we talk about this, you make it sound like money is the solution to everything. Like we can just throw cash at our problems and they’ll disappear.”

He stopped pacing, turning to face you, his expression darkening. “Because it fucking helps, okay?”

You pinched your eyes closed, “I’m just trying to make sure I don’t lose myself in all of this.”

He let out a harsh breath, his shoulders tense. “Lose yourself? You think I’m trying to take that from you?”

“No,” you whispered, wiping at your eyes. “But it feels like you don’t get why this is so important to me.”

“Are you serious right now?” he cut you off. “You know what, do whatever you want. I’ll just cancel the trip.”

“Rafe—”

“Forget it,” he said, already turning away, heading for the door. “Goodnight.”

He didn't even slam the door.

You sat down on the bed, your head in your hands, trying to calm down. You glance at your phone, thinking about texting him, apologizing maybe. But you weren’t ready for that yet. You needed space. You needed to breathe. You needed to get out of your own head, even just for a little while. You couldn’t stand being in the same room after that argument.

Without thinking much more about it, you grabbed your pillow and the spare blanket from the closet, making your way toward the living bedroom. The couch in there wasn’t as comfortable or as big, but it would give you the distance you needed for the time being. You were pulling back the covers when you heard your bedroom door creak open. You didn’t have to turn around to know it was him. 

He couldn't stay away longer than five minutes.

“Really?” His voice was low, almost disbelieving. “You’re gonna sleep in here?”

You stayed facing the bed, not turning to look at him. “I can’t do this right now.”

There was a pause, and then you heard him step closer. “No. That’s not how we’re doing this.”

You frowned, glancing back at him over your shoulder. “What do you mean?”

“I mean, you can be pissed at me. You can need space, fine. But you’re not sleeping in here.” His voice was firm, and when you finally turned to look at him, his blue eyes were locked on yours, unwavering.

“Rafe—”

“I’m serious, baby." He moved closer, gently pulling the blanket from your hands. “You’re mad. I get it. But you’re still sleeping in our bed.”

You shook your head, trying to push the blanket back toward him. “I just—”

“No.” His voice softened, but he was still insistent. “I’m not letting you run away from me. We’ll deal with it. But we’re not doing this. You’re not sleeping alone.”

You looked at him and saw the same tiredness, the same frustration, in his face. He held your gaze for a moment longer before reaching out, and taking your hand in his.

“Come on. You belong in our bed.”

There was no fight left in you as you let him pull you back down the hall, back into the warmth of your shared space. As you settled beside him, Rafe reached over, his hand finding yours under the blankets, he traced small, absent patterns on the back of your hand, like you weren’t fighting just ten minutes ago.

He sighed, his thumb brushing over your knuckles. “You don’t have to prove anything to me. I already know you’re capable of handling anything.”

“It’s not about proving it to you,” you admitted, “It’s about proving it to myself. I need to know that no matter what happens—good or bad—I’ve earned it. That I deserve it.”

Rafe was quiet for a couple seconds, his eyes stuck on the ceiling. Then, his grip on your hand tightened slightly,  “I hate this,” he muttered finally.

You turned your head to look at him, “Hate what?”

“This.” He gestured between the two of you with his free hand. “Fighting like this. Making you feel like I’m pulling you in two different directions. Like you have to choose.”

You blinked, caught off guard. “You’re not making me choose. I just, I want to build something for myself.”

He let out a sharp breath, shaking his head.

“You think I don’t get that? You think I’m just some spoiled asshole who’s never had to work for anything?” He rolled onto his side, propping himself up on his elbow to look at you more directly. “But I do get it. That’s why I’m trying so hard to be what you need me to be.”

Your heart twisted at the look on his face. He reached up, brushing a stray lock of hair away from your face.

“Every time I look at you,” he murmured, his gaze softening, “I see everything you’ve done to get here. Everything you’ve pushed through. And it kills me, because I feel like I’ve just been dead weight. You spent months holding me together when I was falling apart. I could barely get out of bed some days baby, and you were there, making sure I was eating, making sure I was taking my meds, making sure I didn’t—I know how much you gave up for me.”

“Baby, stop,” you mumbled, the hurt in your chest almost unbearable. It hadn't been easy, but you didn't regret a single thing, wouldn't change anything. You'd do it all over again if you had to.

“No.” His voice was firm, “I hate that I put you through that. That I made you carry all that weight when you should’ve been focusing on yourself, your career. Hell, I wasn’t even there for you when you got promoted, because I was too busy trying to keep my shit together. And now I want to make up for that.”

You reached up, cupping his cheek, feeling the way his jaw unclenched under your touch. “You don’t have to make up for anything. You were going through something, and I wanted to be there for you.”

“I know you did,” he said softly, “But that’s why I’m doing this. I’m trying to be the guy you deserve—the guy who makes things easier for you, who makes you feel like you can breathe again.” He shook his head, teasing just a little, “But every time I try, it feels like I’m just reminding you of all the ways I’ve let you down.”

You blinked back the sudden tears. “You haven’t let me down. I need to find a balance. Between us and—” You gestured vaguely around you, trying to explain everything you were feeling. “And everything else.”

“I get that,” he murmured, leaning in closer until his forehead rested against yours. “But I also need you to let me in. Let me help you. Not because I want to throw money at it, but because I love you, and I want to see you happy. Not burnt out and exhausted.”

His voice broke a little on the last word, and you felt your initial stubbornness crumbling. “I know,” You squeezed your eyes shut, “I know. I just don’t want to lose everything I’ve been working for. I don’t want to get so wrapped up in us that I forget who I am outside of this.”

Rafe let out a shaky breath, his fingers brushing along your jaw.

“You’re not going to lose yourself, okay? Not with me. You’re always going to be you. Even when you’re stressed and stubborn and driving me up the wall.” His lips quirked in a small, sad smile. “I’ll still be here. I just want to have a little time with you before life pulls us in a million directions again.”

You leaned into him, pressing your face against his chest, breathing in the familiar scent of him. He wrapped his arms around you, holding you close, his chin resting on top of your head. It wasn’t that you didn’t want his help. You just needed to do this one thing for youself. You moved closer to him, resting your head against his shoulder.

“I’m sorry,” you whispered earnestly, “I didn’t mean to make it sound like I don’t want to spend time with you. I do. It’s just hard to balance everything.”

You didn’t want to fight anymore. You wanted to figure it out. You wanted to compromise, because that's what you two always did.

“I’ll take the time off,” You felt him move beside you, his eyes on you now, curious but cautious. “But… I need a little time. Can we plan the trip for a couple of months from now? Once things settle down with work?”

He pulled back just enough to look down at you, his eyes searching your face. “You’d do that?”

You nodded, lifting your head. “I know I’ve been all over the place about this, but I get that we need time together. I just can’t drop everything right now. But in two months, I’ll be ready. We can go wherever you want.”

A slow smile tugged at the corners of his lips. He shifted onto his side, brushing a strand of hair away from your face. “You mean it?”

“I mean it,” you said, smiling back at him. “We’ll go. No work emails, no distractions. Just us.”

He let out a breath he’d been holding, his fingers tracing along your jaw. “Two months, huh?”

You looked up at him, rolling your eyes lightly. “Yes, two months. And I’m going to hold that ‘no work emails’ rule, for you too.”

He chuckled, his lips curving into a genuine smile this time. “I figured.”

You swat at his chest lightly. “I’m serious. I want this trip to be for us. I need it to be something that we’re both looking forward to—not just you dragging me away because you think I’m overworking.”

“I know. I promise when we do go, it’ll be perfect. Wherever you want. No distractions.”

“Good,” you whispered, resting your head back on his shoulder. You listened to the rhythm of his heartbeat, feeling the rise and fall of his chest. This was the peace after the storm, the moment when everything felt like it was falling into place again.

Rafe’s hand gently traced patterns on your arm, and he pressed a soft kiss to your head, “I’m proud of you. For everything. The promotion, the way you’ve been handling all of this. I’m proud to call you mine.”

Your heart squeezed at his words, and you tilted your head up to meet his gaze. “Thank you, baby,” you murmured. “That means more to me than you know.”

He smiled, “Just don’t ever think you have to choose between me and your dreams, okay? I want you to have it all. I want us to have it all.”

You nodded, the last of your resistance melting away. “I know. And I want us to have it all, too. Together.”

His arms tightened around you, pulling you closer, “Good,” he murmured, his breath warm against your hair. “’Cause I’m not going anywhere, and neither are you.”

[bitchesgetriches]

{ MASTERPOST } Everything You Need to Know about Saving Money and Being Frugal

We’re all in this together. Don’t give up.

On food and groceries:

How to Shop for Groceries like a Boss

Why Name Brand Products Are Beneath You: The Honor and Glory of Buying Generic

If You Don’t Eat Leftovers I Don’t Even Want to Know You

You Are above Bottled Water, You Elegant Land Mermaid

You Should Learn To Cook. Here’s Why.

On entertainment and socializing:

The Frugal Introvert’s Guide to the Weekend

7 Totally Reasonable Ways To Save Money on Cheap Entertainment 

Take Pride in Being a Cheap Date

The Library Is a Magical Place and You Should Fucking Go There

Your Library Lets You Stream Audiobooks and eBooks FOR FREEEEEEE!

What’s the Effect of Social Media on Your Finances?

You Won’t Regret Your Frugal 20s

On health:

How to Pay Hospital Bills When You’re Flat Broke

Run With Me if You Want to Save: How Exercising Will Save You Money

Our Master List of 100% Free Mental Health Self-Care Tactics

Why You Probably Don’t Need That Gym Membership

How to Get DIRT CHEAP Pet Medication, Without a Prescription 

On other big expenses:

Businesses Will Happily Give You HUGE Discounts if You Ask This Magic Question

Understand the Hidden Costs of Travel and Avoid Them Like the Plague

Other People’s Weddings Don’t Have to Make You Broke

You Deserve Cheap, Fake Jewelry… Just Like Coco Chanel

3 Times I Was Damn Grateful for My Emergency Fund (and Side Income) 

When (and How) to Try Refinancing or Consolidating Student Loans

The Real Story of How I Paid Off My Mortgage Early in 4 Years 

Season 2, Episode 2: “I’m Not Ready to Buy a House—But How Do I *Get Ready* to Get Ready?”

The Most Impactful Financial Decision I’ve Ever Made… and Why I Don’t Recommend It

On buying secondhand and trading:

Almost Everything Can Be Purchased Secondhand

I Am a Craigslist Samurai and so Can You: How to Sell Used Stuff Online

The Delicate Art of the Friend Trade

On giving gifts and charitable donations:

How Can I Tame My Family’s Crazy Gift-Giving Expectations?

In Defense of Shameless Regifting

Make Sure Your Donations Have the Biggest Impact by Ruthlessly Judging Charities

The Anti-Consumerist Gift Guide: I Have No Gift to Bring, Pa Rum Pa Pum Pum

How to Spot a Charitable Scam

Ask the Bitches: How Do I Say “No” When a Loved One Asks for Money… Again? 

On resisting temptation:

How to Insulate Yourself From Advertisements

Making Decisions Under Stress: The Siren Song of Chocolate Cake

The Magically Frugal Power of Patience

6 Proven Tactics for Avoiding Emotional Impulse Spending

On minimalism and buying less:

Don’t Spend Money on Shit You Don’t Like, Fool

Everything I Know About Minimalism I Learned from the Zombie Apocalypse

Slay Your Financial Vampires

The Subscription Box Craze and the Mindlessness of Wasteful Spending

On saving money:

How To Start Small by Saving Small

Not Every Savings Account Is Created Equal

The Unexpected Benefits (and Downsides) of Money Challenges

Budgets Don’t Work for Everyone—Try the Spending Tracker System Instead

From HYSAs to CDs, Here’s How to Level Up Your Financial Savings

Season 2, Episode 10: “Which Is Smarter: Getting a Loan? or Saving up to Pay Cash?”

The Magic of Unclaimed Property: How I Made $1,900 in 10 Minutes by Being a Disorganized Mess

We will periodically update this list with newer articles. And by “periodically” I mean “when we remember that it’s something we forgot to do for four months.”

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[lustfulslxt]

ok, hear me out. so reader decides to try out the red nail theory and shows them to matt, and he freaking adores them, but adores the marks they leave on his back even more😏😏idk if you dont wanna thats completely fine, but i just got red nails for the holidays and all i can think about is scratching up matts back...

Say Thanks - Matt Sturniolo

warnings : smut, filthy matthew

—

It’s been a while since I’ve gotten my nails done, and I so badly want to go get them done right now. However, bills exist and with my roommate moving out, everything’s been piled on top of me all at once. It’s stressful to say the least, but I just need to find my footing. It’s not that I can’t afford it, I just have a really bad spending habit, that I didn’t realize is an actual issue until a couple of weeks ago. I used to just work, pay my portion of the bills, save a bit of money, then blow the rest of it on whatever I wanted. Now, I just have to learn to budget.

Saying that, I’ve not really been going out of my way to splurge on things that make me feel good. I’ll get back to eventually, but unfortunately, I can’t afford to right now.

Despite knowing that I should focus on getting my money right, I can’t help but look into my spare cash, crossing my fingers in hopes that I have enough. Before I can even begin counting, my phone flashes and vibrates, indicating I have a new notification.

Matt sent you $100 for your nails❣️.

My eyes widen, a gasp leaving my mouth as I read the words displayed on the screen. Immediately, I’m facetiming Matt.

“Hey.” He answers, instantly, a knowing grin on his lips.

“Don’t ‘hey’ me mister. Why did you just send me money?” I question, glaring at him through the screen.

“Hmm. I’m pretty sure I said it’s for your nails.” He answers, then continues, “You can say you don’t need it all you want, but I know how bad you’ve been wanting to get them done. And if you haven’t, then you just can’t right now. Which is why I wanna do it for you.”

“Matt-“

He cuts me off, “Y/N, shut up and accept my offering. Come over after you get them done?”

“Fine.” I sigh, giving in.

“Great, I can’t wait to see them. Maybe then you can show me just how thankful you are.” He suggests, his lips wide with a smirk.

My jaw drops at his proposal, completely bewildered at his comment, the underlying meaning far from missed. I can’t help but bite my lip as I look away from the screen, my skin ultimately flushing.

“I already scheduled your appointment with Analysse. She’ll be there in fifteen. I expect to see you no later than an hour and a half.” He informs me.

“Yes sir.” I say, unable to prevent the smile that pulls itself to my lips. “Thanks, Matty.”

“Of course, doll. I’ll see you soon.”

With that, we hang up and I’m left to sit in my puddle of confusion and eagerness. Matt and I are only friends. There’s always times where we’re flirty and we’ve always been close, physical touch being our love language. However, his actions and statements today threw me for a loop. I’m sure I’m not misinterpreting it, he seemed very suggestive. Honestly, I don’t even mind that, I just don’t know if he’s only messing with me or if he’s serious. I guess I’ll find out soon enough.

“Hey babe, how are you doing?” Analysse greets me, unpacking her supplies.

“I’ve been good, just learning to adjust to new things. How have you been? I feel like it’s been ages since I last seen you.” I reply, sitting on the opposite side of the desk.

“I know! It’s been so long! I’ve been great though. Just living life and doing what I love.” She nods, a smile blossoming on her face.

“That’s amazing, I’m glad to hear.”

“Thank you. So, what are we thinking?” She asks me, all her supplies laid out in front of us.

“Probably just a simple red, maybe like medium length. Hm, not too long but long enough to leave marks.” I explain, smirking at the thought of digging my nails into Matt’s back.

“Ouu, okay.” She giggles, grabbing my hands to prep my nails. “So, are we talking about Matt? I mean, he is the one that reached out to me to book this appointment for you.”

I can’t help the warmth that rushes to my cheeks, “Yeah, I’ve been wanting to get my nails done again. Life just hasn’t been working in my favor.” She nods in understandment, listening to me rant. “Let’s just say, he’s got me thinking about a lot.”

Her mouth opens, laughter pouring out of it, “Oh, I get you. We’ve all had one of those.”

We continue talking and sharing stories as she does my nails. The conversation goes from boys, to makeup, to careers, to food, and just about everything under the sun. Once she’s done, I pay and tip her, and bid her on her way.

Since I still have some time before I have to be over at Matt’s, I decide to take a shower to freshen up. Seeing as I really only had around an extra thirty minutes, I decide to make it quick. I swiftly wash up and rinse off, hurrying out to dry off and get dressed. After applying deodorant and lotion, I slip on my shoes and grab my phone and keys, then I’m out the door.

It only takes me eight minutes to get to Matt’s house, so when I arrive, I’m eagerly making my way inside. We’ve been friends for eons, hence why I have my own key. Upon walking in, I instantly make my way upstairs and head back to his room. As soon as I open his door, his attention is on me.

“You’re late.” He states, his voice stern.

“Only by four minutes.” I shrug, joining him on his bed.

“Four minutes is still late.” He points out, raising an eyebrow at me.

“Won’t happen again, I promise.” I grin, tossing my hands up in defense.

He doesn’t say anything, only smirks as he grabs my hands to observe the nails he paid for. He plays with my fingers, looking at each individual nail, as if inspecting to see if there were any flaws. They were perfect.

“I love them, they look good.” He tells me, his voice now husky.

I look from my hands to his face, his eyes already being on me. His hands never leave my own, his warm fingers brushing back and forth over mine. The intensity of his stare has me clenching my thighs together in need. I don’t knew where this is coming from, but I want him bad.

“They’d look even better wrapped around my cock.” He whispers, his voice deep and raspy, placing one of my hands on his lap.

Only then, did I notice the growing bulge beneath his pants. His cargos now restricting his hard on, keeping it caged in below the fabric. I could feel him pulsating through the clothing, his erection rock solid. My mouth opened and close, suddenly unable to find words to speak.

“Don’t you want to show me how grateful you are?” He taunts, his gaze unwavering.

“Did you have a favor in mind?” I ask, licking my lips as I attempt to swallow in hopes of lubricating my now dry throat.

“Mhm.” He hums, standing up from the bed. He stands directly in front of me, his hands slowly working his belt off. “I want your pretty little mouth around my cock.”

I could feel my underwear becoming more and more soaked, my arousal seeping out of my pussy, completely and utterly turned on. His hand reaches my chin, gripping my jaw as he pulls me up from the bed, before dropping me to my knees. His thumb rubs against my lips before forcing itself in my mouth. I suck on it, my mouth immediately salivating from this situation I find myself in. He removes his thumb, dragging it down my bottom lip, letting it bounce back up as he moves to remove his shirt. I watch in awe, his lean torso flexing with every movement. Next, he unbuttons his pants. Once he pulls them and his boxers down, his dick slaps up, bouncing off of his lower abdomen. I’ve never been this intimate with Matt, meaning I’ve never seen his dick before, and boy was it something.

“Like what you see, pretty girl?” He teases, his hand engulfing his shaft and jerking it a couple of times. “Get over here and make me feel good until I say you can stop.”

I can’t help but frantically nod, instinctively scooting closer to him, eager to take his member into my mouth. One of his hands goes around my head, entangling in my hair, while the other one takes his dick and slaps it onto my lips, leaving drops of his precum behind. My tongue immediately flicks over my lips, taking the traces of him into my mouth, leaving him to toss his head back as a groan leaves his throat.

“Open.” He states, his hand pulling my jaw down.

As soon as my lips are parted wide enough, he’s shoving his entire length down my throat, pulling a gag from me. From his rough thrusts, my mouth is producing enough saliva to coat his dick, strings of spit connecting him to me once he pulls out. He then sets his tip on my lips, nodding at me to get to work, so I do.

My tongue swirls around his head, licking over his slit, causing him to tighten his grip in my hair and involuntarily buck his hips, his dick prodding at my mouth from the movement. I wrap my lips around him once more, my tongue continuously twirling around him, before taking as much as I could of him into my mouth, using my hands on the rest of him that wouldn’t fit. Peering up at him through my eyelashes, I see his brows furrowed in pleasure, his bottom lip held between his teeth.

“Fuck. You’re so pretty, doll.” He moans, running a hand across my cheek. “Sucking me so good, baby.”

I hum around his length, accepting his praise. Throaty moans continue to escape his mouth, encouraging me more as the desire in me burns hotter. I pull away from him completely, then take all of him in my mouth, deep throating him as much as I can without dying. His free hand wraps around my throat, making the feeling of his dick going down my throat all the more noticeable. He starts thrusting, matching my speed, his hips now sputtering as more lewd sounds come from his mouth.

He quickly pulls away, tugging me back by his grip on my hair. “Strip.”

I eagerly obliged, nerves building in my stomach, anticipating what’s to come. It didn’t take long for me to remove my outer clothing, leaving me in my bra and panties as his hungry eyes bore into me.

“Strip.” He repeats, his tone more demanding.

Without breaking eye contact, I reach back and unclasp my bra, letting it fall down my arms before falling to the floor with other clothes. The cool air hit my nipples, the buds hardening in response. I watch as Matt’s eyes follow my every move, soaking in every gesture. My fingers slip in the waistband of my panties, slowly tugging them downwards as I continue shimmying out of them, kicking them off my feet. Matt’s hand is now around his cock, stroking it as he watches me, intently.

“My turn.” He whispers, pulling me against him, skin to skin.

His mouth meets mine in a hot kiss, excitement bubbling between us. He walks me a few steps backwards, pushing me back on his bed and climbing on top of me. Our lips lap one another’s, before he’s shoving his tongue in my mouth, exploring behind my lips. We move together in such a hot and steamy way, his hands touching every part of me as my hands lace through his hair. His mouth then moves down my jaw, dragging open mouth kisses across my skin, leaving a trail saliva in his wake. My breathing was heavy, small whimpers coming through as he sucks and nibbles my sweet spot.

His hands then intertwine with mine, bringing my fingertips to his lips, pressing soft kisses against them. “I can’t wait to see the damage you do with these.”

He starts kissing down my chest, keeping his hands interlocked with mine. His mouth nips and bites at my skin, goosebumps spreading over me. He takes my nipple into his mouth, twirling his tongue around it, his teeth grazing over it, causing a sharp gasp like moan to come from my mouth. He moves on to the next one, repeating the same action. My legs squeeze shut, attempting to relieve the tension that keeps building and building with every little thing.

“Matt, please.” I whisper, attempting to grind against him for friction, to which he only presses his hands onto my hips to hold me in place.

“Shh, baby.” He mutters against my skin, lowering himself to my navel, his tongue leaving a stripe of spit.

His mouth meets my thighs, going back and forth between the two, peppering wet kisses all over them. His half lidded eyes meet mine, a smirk making its way to his face as he blew air onto my center, causing me to thrash beneath him. Instantly, his tongue is between my folds, pulling a loud moan from me as my hands return to his hair, tugging ever so slightly. He licks up and down my core, sucking all of my juices along the way. His tongue prods at my entrance, poking in and out, before he goes back up and wraps his lips around my clit.

“F-fuck, feels so good, Matty.” I whimper, thrusting my hips up for more.

His hands press down on my hips again, his grip now tight, holding me in place. His mouth continues lapping me, his tongue flicking every which way, bringing me closer to the edge. One of his hands leave my waist, his fingers meeting my heat. He slides them up and down, lubricating them before pressing two of them into my entrance. A loud moan falls from my mouth, my body jerking as he begins fucking me with his fingers. His mouth focuses on my clit, sucking with his warm tongue continuously flicking over it. His fingers pumping in and out of me, my arousal evident from the sounds emitting from my core and my mouth.

“I’m so close.” I moan out, pushing down into him.

Unfortunately, he pulls away, completely removing himself from me, a whine of desperation coming from my lips. He hovers back over me, his mouth pressing onto mine, my juices traveling from his mouth to mine as he kisses me hard.

“We’re gonna cum together, princess.” He says, one of his hands holding himself up as his other one rubs his dick up and down my folds.

I can’t help the gentle shaking of my thighs, my hole clenching around nothing as my eyes beg him to fuck me. Without words, he grants my wishes, slowly sinking his cock into me. Low moans escape both of our mouths as he bottoms out, my eyes closing in pleasure as he tosses his head back one again. My arms wrap around him, pulling him closer to me.

“I just knew you’d feel so good, baby.” He groans, his thrusts slow, yet hard. “So wet and warm, and tight around my cock.”

His thrusts remain slow, but not too slow, as he continues digging into me, hitting exactly where I need him.

“Oh, Matt.” I moan out, my face contorting in pure bliss as I drag my hands down his back.

He lets out more groans, enjoying everything about this moment. Instantly, I could feel the knot forming in the pit of my stomach, close to snapping from the building pressure. He picks up his pace, increasing the strength of his thrusts. His hand meets my center once again, rubbing tight circles onto my clit, ripping another moan from me.

“You look like a dream.” He moans out, his eyes never leaving mine. “I can see your close, baby.”

Words stuck in my throat, I’m left nodding my head, nothing but incoherent sounds coming from my mouth as I dig my nails into his back. His lips slam onto mine, bringing me into a passionate kiss, swallowing every noise that emits from me. His tongue roams my mouth again, quickly and eagerly, as if he can’t get enough. As he pulls away, he drags my bottom lip out in between his teeth.

“Cum with me, doll.” He groans, his finger on my clit applying more pressure.

And just like that, the knot snapped, unraveling, and I was letting go all over him, eliciting pornographic moans from my mouth. He followed seconds after, his dick twitching inside of me as his load spurts out. He continues pumping, fucking both of us through our orgasms, pushing our cum deeper into me with every thrust. Stilling for just a moment, he then slowly pulls out and lies beside me, both of our breaths erratic from the exertion.

“If this is what I get as a thank you, I’ll gladly pay for your nails every single time.” He chuckles, grinning over at me.

I laugh, rolling my eyes at him, pushing him away. He smirks, before starting to put his clothes back on, so that he could start us a shower. As soon as I catch glimpse of his back, a gasp leaves my mouth, causing him to turn around with raised eyebrows.

“What?” He asks, expectantly.

“Your back is fucked.” I laugh, covering my mouth, grabbing his phone from the nightstand.

I motion for him to turn around so that I can take a picture. Once I do, he grabs his phone from me and smirks at the picture, pleased with the aftermath of our moment together. He does some typing on his phone before tossing it back down and leaving the room. I pick his phone back up and see that he made a new post on snapchat.

After clicking on it, my mouth dropped, “Matt!”

—

a/n : here ya go! sorry for the delay, i’ve been lacking inspiration and motivation. i hope you enjoy it, and apologies if this isn’t what you had in mind. send in more reqs pls, love you 🫶🏼

[topguncortez]

Are You With Me | | Chapter 3

previous part | masterlist | next part

synopsis: Jake and Y/N fight over the hospital bill and whether its a good idea to keep the kids on Jake's insurance or night. Jake still has issues with Miles. Ella makes a decision in the course of her treatment.

word count: 2.1k

warnings: medical inaccuracies, divorce, fighting, cursing, childhood cancer, mentions of childhood death

Jake had made a joke once that Eli was the cheapest baby they had. Said joke had earned him a glare that was fierce enough to send a shiver down his spine. Y/N had mastered the “mom eye” after having two kids.

But, even though Jake’s joke was done in poor timing, he was right. Having a baby, although not planned one bit, at home had saved them quite a bit of money. Jake had always found it comical that he was the best of the best. The 1% of the 1% and had some of the worst health care coverage in the whole United States.

“I feel like I need to take a loan out to pay these,” Jake rubbed his forehead, slipping his glasses off his face.

It was one of the rare moments that Jake and Y/N were both at the house. Y/N spent the day with Ella while Jake was at work and Alex was at school. Between Penny and Y/N’s mother Clara, they watched Eli for a couple of hours. Jake would then come to the hospital at night, staying with Ella while Y/N went home and made dinner and got the boys to bed. The Daggers had created a weekend schedule, each of them taking a saturday or sunday to stay with Ella so Jake and Y/N could both go home and recharge.

Though being at home was more stressful than watching their four year old getting pumped with toxins.

“Is that the bill?” Y/N asked as she walked into the kitchen after putting the boys down. She filled the tea kettle and set it on the burner, before pouring Jake a drink and taking it to him

“The first one, yeah,” Jake wiped a hand down his face, “Thanks,” He mumbled taking the rocks glass from her, “The ER visit cost thirty-three hundred dollars and insurance is only covering three hundred of it. The estimated total cost of care is around sixty-one thousand dollars.”

“Well,” Y/N swallowed, “I can always put Ella on my insurance. I get good-”

“No,” Jake sneered, “We agreed when we… we agreed when we divorced I would put the kids on my insurance plan because it’s cheaper.”

“Yes, but if this means compromising Ella’s care-“

“It’s not compromising anything!” Jake snapped causing Y/N to jump a bit in her seat. He scrubbed a hand down his face, “You got the kids and the house and everything else in the divorce. Let me help do this.”

Y/N nodded her head, “Fine,” She sighed, “We still have the rainy day fund.”

“Still not even going to make a dent in the payments,” Jake leaned back in his chair, “I’m tired of talking about this. How was Ella today?”

“Same as always,” Y/N shrugged, “Was fine in the morning before chemo, napped all afternoon and then threw up everything she ate. Her hair is becoming more of an issue for her… it’s becoming more noticeable.”

Ella’s hair had started to fall out as the weeks of chemo continued on. Jake and Y/N didn’t have the heart to shave it or cut it before Ella started therapy, wanting her to have the ability to make that decision for herself. But as the treatments went on, Ella’s confidence began to fade with each clump of hair that fell.

“Maybe we should just shave it,” Jake suggested as the tea kettle rang.

Y/N poured herself a mug, “No. She’s already losing so much autonomy over her own body. She should be the one who decides on her hair.”

“I hate to see her like that.”

“We all do,” Y/N took a sip of her tea, “But she was happy that Rooster and Dragon got to stay with her. Dragon mentioned something about watching Dateline.”

Jake chuckled, “Going to teach our four year old how to commit murder and get away with it.”

“She’s been stealing cookies and getting things she wants outta you since she was born.”

Jake couldn’t help it, he was a sucker for those big green eyes.

Silence fell over the two of them. It was moments like these where things almost felt normal between Jake and Y/N. Like the past two years had been a fever dream. That they had never spent a day apart. But then reality settled back in, and the awkwardness filled the air.

“I’m going to bed,” Y/N said, clearing her throat, “I put clean towels back in the guest room.”

“Thank you,” Jake nodded his head, “Goodnight, Y/N.”

“Night, Jake.”

— — —

When Ella was born, she had a full head of dark curly hair. Y/N knew that she was going to have hair from all the heartburn she had experienced through the whole nine months. In fact, that was the first thing the doctor had called out in the middle of delivering the Seresin girl.

“oh gosh! she’s got a full head of hair!”

Y/N had always dreamed of having a little girl with gorgeous long hair, and she had been lucky to get just that. She couldn’t wait until Ella was old enough to sit up and her hair long enough that she could braid it and style it. Ella always had perfectly done hair when Y/N dropped her off for daycare. Ella liked to show off her matching bows or the intricate braid that her mother did to her classmates and teacher.

Miles had told them one of the most common side effects of chemotherapy was the loss of hair. Y/N thought maybe, just maybe, Ella wouldn’t lose her hair. They had gotten through the first week of treatment without any hair loss. But then week two rolled around, and it was the worst week of Ella Seresin’s life.

“Mommy! My hair!” Ella cried as she stood fresh out of the shower, with a clump of hair in her hands. Y/N did all she could to try and soothe her child as she pulled on the ends of her hair, more stands coming out.

“I know, baby,” Y/N fought back tears, “I know. It’ll be okay.”

For weeks, Y/N and Jake watched as Ella’s hair grew thinner and thinner. They switched from using a brush to using a wide tooth comb, hoping to save some of the frail strands of hair on her head. Ella knew that most kids on the floor didn’t have hair or wore fake hair. She knew that eventually, she would look like them.

“Do you want strawberry or cherry jello for lunch?” Y/N asked as she looked over the hospitals menu choices for today. Y/N wasn’t sure if it was because of stress but the hospital food wasn’t actually that bad. Plus, Val had kept Ella’s room stacked with snacks.

“Mommy,” Ella said.

“Yes, baby?” Y/N asked, putting the menu down and looking at her daughter, “What’s up, buttercup?”

“I want to cut my hair.”

“What?” Y/N was taken aback by her daughter’s words. Ella was wise beyond her years but this shocked Y/N to hear.

“I want to cut my hair. It keeps falling,” Ella said, touching her thinning hair.

Y/N nodded her head, “Of course, baby. We’ll do it tonight, when dad gets here. That sounds okay?” Ella nodded her head, a bright smile on her face, “Now, how about that jello.”

A couple of hours later, Jake was walking down the familiar bright colored walls of the children’s cancer ward. He always found it ironic that such a dark place was painted so brightly. Ella had only been there two months and already she had new neighbors on either side of her room. The cries of the parents haunted Jake at night and the images of little bodies being moved with sheets over their heads was enough to bring Jake to a panic. However, every time Jake walked closer to Ella’s door he was met with the beautiful sound of laughter. 

A smile graced Jake’s lips as he heard Ella’s laugh and that familiar snort that always made her laugh harder. But the moment he opened the door, his smile dropped. 

“Doctor Miles.” 

“Daddy!” Ella cheered and sat up in her bed, reaching out for her father. 

Jake walked over to her, greeting her with a hug and kissing her forehead, “How are you, bug?” 

“I’m good,” Ella nodded her head, laying back in her bed, “Doctor Miles is playing Bluey with me.” 

“I see that,” Jake looked over at Miles who was standing in the corner of the room now, “Where is Mommy?” 

“Sent her for a snack,” Miles answered, “She’s looking like the walking dead.” 

“Can we refrain from making death jokes?” Miles held back from rolling his eyes, “I’m here now, so you can go.” 

“I said I would wait here with Ella until-” 

“I’m her father and I say-” 

“You say nothing,” Y/N said, appearing in the doorway, “Thank you, Miles.” 

Miles nodded his head, “No problem, Y/N. I’ll see you tomorrow, Ella, good job today.” He held his hand out for the little girl to give him a high five. 

Y/N waited a moment until Miles was out of the room before looking at Jake, “Really?” 

Jake just shrugged, “I had it under control.” 

“I’m sure,” Y/N sighed, walking over to Ella’s bed. The little girl curled up next to her mother almost instantly, “Do you want to tell your daddy what you want to do today?” Ella nodded her head and then looked at Jake. 

“I want to cut my hair.” 

Jake’s eyes widened as he looked from Ella to Y/N, “You do?” Ella nodded her head again. 

“The nurses brought some clippers and stuff earlier. I-I’ve never cut anyone’s hair so I-”

“I got it,” Jake answered, “I was cuttin’ boys’ hair in the bay at boot camp.” 

 “Okay,” Y/N said, feeling the familiar burn of tears in her eyes, “You ready, Elles?” 

“Yes!” Ella said, a bright smile on her face. 

Both Y/N and Jake walked with Ella to the bathroom where a nurse had brung in clippers, scissors, a razor, shaving cream and a step stool. Ella stepped up on the stool, looking at herself in the mirror that was covered with pink and purple flowers. Y/N leaned against the doorway, watching as Jake got everything set up, occasionally making funny faces in the mirror to make Ella laugh. 

“Gonna start now, are you sure this is what you want?” Jake asked his daughter. Ella nodded her head, “Okay. Here we go.” Both Y/N and Jake took a deep breath as he grabbed a lock of Ella’s hair and lifted the scissors. The sound of the shears closing together made the loudest sound Y/N had ever heard as a lock of brown went tumbling down to the ground. 

“You cut it!” Ella gasped. Jake’s heart pounded in his chest, then it relaxed as her giggles filled the room, “Do it again!” 

Jake looked at his wife through the mirror, seeing her red eyes but the smallest smile on her face, “Let’s keep going.” 

After every snip of the scissors, Ella giggled which made the whole situation somewhat better. Eventually Jake got to the point where he had to use the clippers. He gently moved them over her head, watching as the final pieces of hair fell from her head. 

“What do you think?” Jake asked, as he set the razor down in the sink. It was quiet for a moment as Ella looked herself over in the mirror. 

“My head is cold,” She said. 

Y/N chuckled as she stepped into the bathroom, walking up behind her daughter, “We’ll get you a hat or two or-” 

“Three!” Ella held up three fingers. Ella turned to face her mom, “Momma, don’t cry.” 

“I’m sorry, baby,” Y/N said, as Ella wiped a finger away from her cheek, “How about we take a shower and then watch a disney movie?” 

“Princess and The Frog! Daddy! Will you stay?” 

Y/N looked at Jake, who was cleaning up the hair around the bathroom, “Yeah. Of course. Let me finish cleaning this up, and I'll sneak down to the nurses lounge to make popcorn.” 

“Thank you,” Y/N said, sincerity in her voice, “Let’s get cleaned up, Elles.” 

A strange feeling settled over Jake’s chest as he watched his wife and daughter. A strange feeling that maybe, just maybe. . . things will be alright.

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[xkaidaxxxx]

Kuroo Tetsuro

The Man

y/n and kuroo : started dating 2nd year of high school

Currently : married and living together

Having a degree really doesn’t give you a great job from the start. During your 2nd year of college you got engaged with him. After that you both got an apartment and married. You’ve been living there for 2 years now. “I’m off to work sweetheart.” He said. You fixed his tie. “ I love you very much.” Giving you a quick kiss leaving afterwards. He wants to be in a sports promotion division but everyone has to start off somewhere. Now kuroo has told you endless of times that you don’t have to pay rent, buy groceries nor pay any other type of bills. It honestly made you feel bad. Yeah you were a housewife with a degree in business management and marketing. Everything was going great. You had breakfast, lunch, and dinner ready for Kuroo everyday. He loves your meals. He’s grateful for everything you do. Recently you’ve noticed he’s been stressed out. It was odd. You’ve never seen him so quiet,upset, looking like he’s going to explode at any moment.

Things were going downhill at work. Many people were being let go due to company issues. All the current workers pay went down. Long story short work was a shit show. He’s saved up money however still struggling to pay bills. He’s at this lowest right now. He won’t say a single word about it. He grew up hearing “you’re going to be the man of your house. You’re the man. Start getting that in your head.” From his dad. His mother agreed but she added that if he ever needed help they’d be there. Yeah his dad wasn’t in on that part. That grew upon him in an awful way. He’s beating himself up. It’s not his fault the company is falling to the ground. Not this fault his paycheck was 71,000yen(about 500usd) less from 341,100yen(2,400usd)= 288,162 yen (1,900usd)

That evening his mother accidentally called your phone instead of his. “Kuroo I have told you endless of times that you’re my son and that I love you very much. I know how it feels to struggle with money. You’re a strong person. Very dedicated and smart. If you need the money sweetheart take it. You can move back in with us. I’d love to have company. Y/n is such a sweet girl.” She spoke. There was a long pause. You hung up with without a word. You waited for kuroo to get home. Time passed by. Dinner was ready as Kuroo walked in and set his briefcase down. “ I’m home my love.” He spoke walking into the kitchen. You helped him take his blazer off along with his tie. “ Eat up lovely. I couldn’t wait today. I was too hungry.” You replied. You sat down and watched him eat. Allowing him to enjoy his tasty meal. Once he reached the end of it you asked, “ How was work?You’ve been working a bit longer?” You crossed your legs. “ It’s good. There’s just more work to do this time around. It’s kind of annoying don’t ya think.” He replied smiling. You wanted to slap that stupid fake smile off of his face. “Yeah I know. I’ve heard. The neighbor downstairs told me her husband got let go. You guys work in the same building right?” You lied. There was no such neighbor nor same building. “ U-uh yeah? Really?” He replied nervously. “ It suck’s they must be so stressed out. There’s rent,water bills,electricity, movie apps,Spotify.” You said. He finally knew what you were doing. How did you find out only god knows. “ Y-yes y/n I’ve been struggling with work. I swear baby I’ll figure it out. I promise. We will be okay.” He got up and held you in his arms. Tears soaked his tshirt. “Hey shh it’s okay. It’s not going to be easy but we’ll be fine. Don’t worry about it. Allow me to do that. I’m the man of the house after all. It’s my job to keep everything in check.” He said letting go and wiping your tears away. “I was planning to tell you yesterday that we got a call from the house phone. They said you wanted to be the Japan Volleyball Association’s Sports Promotion Division? They loved the resume and idea’s you’ve submitted. I’m guessing you put some of your high school and college volleyball background.” You said. Kuroo looked at you in shock. This was what he wanted. He got it after 3 years. “I told them yes..yeah so you start next week. On Monday. I know you’ll do amazing baby.” You said tip toeing giving him a peck on the cheek. “ This is perfect. I told you we’ll be okay.” He blushed. Your stomach grumbled loudly. “I thought you ate already.” He smirked. You smacked his arm. He served your plate as you sat down. “Here princess. Eat up. I love you very much.” He pecked your cheek setting the plate down. “ I love you too baby.”

[ender--slime]

random little merch update i guess:

merch items will never take Creative Priority over my silly projects like cookiefish or the analog horror or video essays or Out of Game/Save Game or one off things like the puppet show. or even just Generally Drawing and Animating. but it is my job!! so it takes some form of priority! but that doesn’t mean i can’t have fun with it!

in terms of small merch items, i’m currently working on migrating all of my stuff from etsy to the same BigCartel that the captcha bags are currently on. this involves taking nicer photos of everything and bumping the prices down since etsy just straight up steals the money of sellers and i won’t have to worry about that anymore on bigcartel!

new stuff is also on the way! i have some Genesis Frog quicksand shaker charms being made, some Mettaton CD charms, and i’ll probably make some charms of my Mayor sticker because there needs to be more Mayor merch in the world. once the dave polaroid drawings are all done i’m gonna print those and have those as a fun polaroid set, like the ones on the omori merch site! ive got a general mettaton drop planned as well, including the CD charms but also some normal acrylic charms, some poster prints, and some other stuff! i’ve also got some handmade stuff in the works, small homestuck trinkets for display (that i think are quite funny) and cute little hand sewn dice bags themed after characters and HS aspects!

in terms of Big Merch. of course the pink and purple bags are still being made!! just waiting on those, but they should be all done soon and then i get 500 bags in my house to ship out one by one :p EEK

i have the blue and yellow samples now, and those come right after i’ve shipped out every pink and purple one!

i also have the consort pastel sweater and the horrorterror black sweater! i have the consort one already, and i’m currently getting a sample made for the horrorterror one. i honestly have no clue whennnn i will be able to open preorders for those because i’ll have to slot them in between bag drops (blue and yellow and then. black and red or whatever other mystery color i choose for that one. and then pink and purple again)… but i’ll figure that out!

and then after those. hoo boy. i have another piece of apparel in the works… non homestuck this time!! it’s an undertale thing that ISNT mettaton! i can do other things!! see!! it’ll be both a button up short sleeved shirt and a nice pullover sweater. but i have a bad bad habit of taking on tooooo many projects at once (i am the most stressed and depressed guy of all time right now) so that one comes LATER. Later. we will get to it when we get to it!! after all these other thangs

so ya!! projects on projects on projects cuz i gotta pay bills but if i become a “content creator” i’ll [REDACTED] so!! i’m excited about all of these! these will all be fun even tho they are stressful :)

and ofc my other non merch projects. my normal art stuff. will continue forever and ever !!!!

i don’t really have a good pinned post describing who i am and what i do, or even a decent website (i have a carrd i guess) that puts all of my projects in one place. so i’m currently working on a funky website as well! so hopefully soon all of the stuff i make will be in one spot for ease of uh. looking at them HEHEHE

[callsignspark]

soft-tober | 05 | Jake Seresin

soft-tober is about experiencing the joys of October with loved ones. each day is a fall-related one-shot for one of the couples from my Dagger, Sword & Shield universe, plus a few extras! today is Jake and Flora with “Trick or treat?” “…Depends on if you’re the treat or not.” from this prompt list.

If you’d like to be tagged for soft-tober, please send an ask!

word count: 1.4k

soft-tober masterlist | main masterlist | divider credit here

warnings: extreme fluff, Jake being a sweetheart, lots of kissing

callsignspark disclaimer: my blog is an 18+ space; minors do not interact - you will be blocked. I do not consent to my work being copied, run through an AI generator, translated, or posted elsewhere. I do have an AO3, where I eventually will be cross-posting my works.

05. “Trick or treat?” “…Depends on if you’re the treat or not.”

“A little to the left… no, right. Left. Right. Don’t you know how to center something, Jake?!”

The blonde man turns on the ladder, eyebrows raised in amusement. “It is centered, Flora. You’re just standing at an angle.”

Her heart drops as she looks around, realizing she is off-center. A couple scoots to the left tells her that Jake does have the wreath perfectly centered on the balcony.

“I’m sorry.” The apology is muffled as she rubs at her eyes. Flora knows she’s being ridiculous, putting way too much effort into decorating for the shop-or-treat the business of Madison Ave are hosting during the fall block party. Staying open later than usual to hand out candy to costumed children while their parents patronize the shops.

She’s trying her hardest to appeal to kids so they’ll drag their parents inside. A florist isn’t exciting to little ones, not when there’s a bakery three doors down and a comic book store across the street. So the décor - a strategic blend of fall and Halloween - is going to be doing the heavy lifting to get people to stay for longer than it takes to put a Snickers in a pumpkin bucket.

Jake climbs down the ladder after securing the wreath in place, wrapping his arms around Flora and pulling her into his chest.

“I’m sorry.” She apologizes again, her face pressed against his strong chest.

“It’s okay.” He reassures her, his warm hands rubbing her back. “I know you’re stressed, but you don’t have to worry about Studio Cacti taking over.”

Studio Cacti. Another florist shop that opened up over the summer only two blocks away. Owned by some snobby girl who was paying the bills with Daddy’s money. Flora felt hypocritical saying that, considering how she paid for the shop’s remodel and the new flower cooler, but she had started all on her own. Scrimping and saving, pouring every available cent into her shop. During that first year, she had even slept on an air mattress in her office, unable to afford the store mortgage and her apartment rent at the same time.

“Yes, I do, Jake. She’s got more money at her disposal than I’ll make in my entire life. When push comes to shove, she’ll win because she can afford it.”

“Trust me, I have a few ideas, and if I can get everything into place, you’ll be the most successful florist in the city, maybe even the county.”

Flora pulls away, tucking her hair behind her ears as she stares at Jake. The smug look on his face should make her wary - should turn her off - but it doesn’t. It makes her feel giddy whenever she sees it; she’s pretty sure he Pavloved her with his bright smile.

“And am I allowed to know about these plans?”

“Nope, just worry about shop-or-treat for now.”

“It’s my shop, Jacob.”

“God, I love when you call me that.”

“Focus.”

The undignified noise that escapes as he squats down and wraps her legs around his waist makes her cheeks burn. Usually, she hates when men try to pick her up, but she never hates when Jake does it. Flora is taken off guard again when he plops her on the counter next to the register, using the distraction to ignore the voice telling her it’s okay when Jake does it because she likes him.

“I am focused, Phillips. C’mere.”

He kisses her just like he did the first time, like he’s done every time. Gentle at first, simply pressing their lips together as he cups her neck, then he tugs her closer, intensity increasing as he tests the waters to see if she wants to go further.

Normally, she’s all in for a good makeout session, one where his big hands will roam and caress her body in just the right way that will lead to them being naked later on, but tonight, she pulls back.

“Can we do a test run?”

“A test- of what?”

“Of shop-or-treat. You go out and come in pretending to be a kid. Use fresh eyes; look for anything that needs improving.”

“You want me to pretend to be a ten-year-old boy?”

“It should be easy; that’s how mature you are.” She regrets the snipe as soon as it leaves her mouth, Jake immediately attacking her sides. Flora holds out for about five seconds, laughter bubbling out as she gives in. “Uncle! Uncle!”

“I just want to put it on record that I think this is a dumb idea because everything is already great, but I’m doing this anyway. For you.”

She hates the way her heart flutters at his wink. They had agreed to be friends-with-benefits, nothing more. Heart thumping was definitely not within the bounds of their agreement. Maybe it was time to end the arrangement.

The bells ring as Jake walks back in, doing exactly what she asked and interrupting her thoughts. Green eyes big and round as he looks around the store like a kid in a candy shop. His eyebrows furrow slightly at different points in the room, and Flora knows he’s making mental notes on what needs to be changed.

She lets him go on for a few minutes, swinging her legs and admiring how his gray t-shirt stretches across his broad shoulders. Shoulders that probably still have marks where her nails dug into him a few days ago.

“Aren’t you going to say it?”

“Say what?” He asks as he finishes his examination, standing a few feet in front of her.

“Trick or treat?”

“Well… depends on if you’re the treat or not.” He laughs as she whines his name. “Everything is great. The only thing that’s going to make it better is us finishing what you already had planned.”

“Really?”

“Even the most sticky, snotty-nose brat will want to come into the flower shop with the pretty lady behind the counter.”

Flora’s breath hitches as he crowds into her space, hands tugging her hips closer as their lips meet. She melts into the kiss, sinking her hands into his hair. It’s getting a bit long; he’ll need to get a trim soon so he’s up to regulations, but she loves how it feels between her fingers. He’s the only man she didn’t have to introduce to conditioner, his sisters taking care of that lesson back in high school.

“Excuse me, are you open?”

Her internal debate about whether to hook her legs around him here or pull him up to her office and put the couch to good use is interrupted as they break apart.

“What?” Flora pants, brain still scrambled from how Jake was grabbing at her thighs.

“Are you open?”

“No, ma’am; I’m sorry, we’re not open right now.”

“Oh, that’s too bad! I wanted to get flowers for my daughter, she just gave birth! Lilies are her favorite, and I saw your case through the window. You have the most beautiful options.”

“I’m sorry if you want to come back-”

“Is it your first grandchild?” Jake interrupts, sliding Flora off the counter.

“It is! A little girl!”

“Congratulations!” He smiles, turning to Flora. “Take the sale; I’ll finish decorating.”

A kiss on her forehead, and he’s making his way up the stairs, unraveling leaf garland to wrap around the banister.

She’s only slightly distracted as she puts together a bouquet filled with white lilies, baby’s breath, and eucalyptus for the new grandmother, Jake constantly on her mind. And after cashing out her newest customer and locking the door, Flora makes her way upstairs. Her heart soft as she watches Jake carefully string twinkle lights along the railing he just finished decorating, his tongue poking out in concentration.

“Hey, Jake?”

“Yeah, darlin'?”

“Thank you.”

“For what?” His pretty green eyes blink up at her in confusion, and she realizes she’s not quite sure how to answer.

Thank you for helping decorate.

Thank you for understanding about how much I work.

Thank you for accepting that I can only do friends-with-benefits with you.

“Just… for everything.”

“Of course, whatever you need, Flora. You know that.”

She feels herself weakening as he stands up and saunters over to her, his smile so big that his eyes crinkle and his dimples show. This time, Flora doesn’t make a noise when he lifts her; just wraps her arms around his neck and kisses him. The two of them giggling when Jake drops her onto the couch and climbs on top of her, hooking her legs over his hips.

The decorating is so not getting finished tonight… oh well.

@gretagerwigsmuse | @hangmanapologist | @hangmanbrainrot | @princessphilly | @hangmanssunnies | @thesewordsareallihavetogive | @a-court-of-roscoe-and-baby | @katieshook02 | @hellojameshowyadoin | @aristotles-butthole | @atarmychick007 | @whatislovevavy | @kmc1989 | @sometimesanalice | @laracrofted | @yuckosworld | @mika-darling | @bradshawsbaddie | @bobblebobsbae | @ohtobeleah | @withahappyrefrain

[pradame]

Hello! I was wondering if you could help me with something. I’m a 17 year old girl and my parents are… not great. I plan on moving out (I already have someone who’s willing to have me as roommate) soon, but I was wondering if you know of any resources to do with finances, taxes, and all the financial literacy stuff! One of the rules in my house is that I’m not allowed to have a job unless my money goes to my parents (so I chose not to work), so I know next to nothing about anything. Also, do you have some ideas for skills I can develop so that I can do freelance? Thank youuuuuuu

Hi hun! Tbh at your age I feel it’s a learn as you go process, as you start making money you’ll realize how much it is you need to be saving and what is smart to be spending on. Especially if you’re going to be paying rent and having bills. The responsibility kicks in!

Try the 50 / 30 / 20 rule

50% goes to your needs, that being housing, utilities, food, insurance, gas, etc

30% being wants, monthly subscriptions, shopping, entertainment, travel

& 20% into your savings.

With taxes you just need to make sure you find a professional who can help you with that, they will inform you on what you need when you’re providing a w-2 or a 1099 just be sure to keep receipts of everything if you are self employed!

qualities to have for freelance work:

-communication! speak with confidence, be persuasive, listen attentively, you want to make sure your customers feel comfortable talking to you

-have a personal pitch ready, something that’ll lock your clients in

-know how to set boundaries and when to say no! this is so important and will avoid unnecessary stress and frustration towards your business from both sides

do you have any ideas of freelance work you’d want to try?? Social media, data analysis, graphic design?

[idkmynameiskat]

This sounds so goofy to say because I have never been someone who has cared about money/status/etc, but I just want to be rich, man. I want to have money and be boujee.

Vent vent vent incoming

I just want to be able to afford a nice house in a nice city one day

I want to be able to afford treating myself to things I deserve more often and not having to choose carefully which one thing I can treat myself to monthly

I want to not stress about money every day anymore

I want to stop feeling jealousy when I see people my age going on vacations and buying houses and living comfortably

I want to stop having breakdowns when I get medical bills I can’t afford to pay or when my car windshield gets cracked because of hail and I just simply can’t afford to fix it

I want to not have to save up money every paycheck for months in order to afford to cut my hair for the first time in 3 years

It’s so frustrating because my whole life has been about just surviving each day/month/year and just to try to get to a spot mentally where I’m somewhat truly happy and not trying to end it every week. And now after trying so hard I still feel like I’m still not “happy” like I wanted to be by this point in my life and now I have the stress of being in the worst spot financially I’ve ever been in in my whole adult life and I feel so lost.

It’s to the point that I feel like I just have to go back to school and get a degree to do something I’m not passionate about or care about at all so I can just make money to survive. And then I’m scared if I do that and I’m stuck working a job I hate I’m going to just end up offing myself finally 🤷🏽‍♀️

[minefield-of-a-ninja]

Summary: Gabriela Cruz invests in a Victorian mansion in the middle of America where the rule of Buyer Beware is absolute. When her twin sister goes missing, a couple of federal agents show up. Lucky for Gabi, Dean and Sam Winchester are on the case.

Characters: Gabriela Cruz, Camila Cruz, Dean Winchester, Sam Winchester, Ed Zeddmore, Harry Spangler

Warnings/tags: 18+ ONLY, language, mentions death of family members, cursed object, mentions of blood + gore, sarcasm, twin dynamics, explicit sex

Words: 4,600

Author's notes: thank you, @brrose-apothecary and @stusbunker as always for the pre-reads and support!

CAVEAT EMPTOR

I consider myself a strong, independent woman. I pay my own bills, put a little money away in savings every month, and I just recently took out a loan all by myself to buy an old Victorian mansion cum bed and breakfast in my hometown.

Which brings me to my first point — that most of the time, I think I’m rad as fuck. Then, once in a blue moon (literally, in this case), some guy finds his way into my life, and I personally end up winding back the advancement of women by a century for good dick.

It’s humiliating.

How, you ask? Well, let me tell you...

“When you said Victorian bed and breakfast, I thought it’d be all lace doilies and ornately carved wood. This place is sick!” 

Camila, my little sister by 15 minutes, had driven down from Minneapolis to help me move into my new home. We hadn’t seen much of each other in the past year because she was living with a man who considered our twin bond to be “unhealthy” (read: he’s a pissbaby.)

What he couldn’t wrap his tiny brain around was that Cami and I were not only twins, but we’d spent the entirety of our adult lives with only each other to call home. Our older brother was killed by a drunk driver, our mom by breast cancer, and our dad by colon cancer, all before we were old enough to vote.

Anyway, Camila told him he could stay in his glass box of a top-floor condo in the city while she popped down “just for the weekend” to help me unpack. Little did he know, she’d brought with her an obscenely priced bottle of pink Taittinger Comtes de Champagne 1973 from his wine cellar. 

“Camila Beatriz!” I cackled as I popped the cork.

She was living with a guy so worried about our “connection” that he never bothered to ask about her predilection to permanently borrow (her phrase, not mine) things from the men she dated.

“He’ll never miss it. Just pour.”

We sipped, kind of unpacked, nibbled on a fruit and cheese platter, and generally basked in each other’s presence. As we squeezed the last drops of pink bubbly from the bottle and the sun dipped below the horizon, I felt a chill. I assumed it was exhaustion, nerves, stress — whatever. 

“I’m tired, sissy,” Cami confessed. “Show me to my room, would ya?”

I did, giving her a long squeeze. “Thanks for coming, sissy,” I whispered in her ear. “Sleep sweet.”

I gave her a kiss on the cheek, and she kissed mine before I headed to my room to take a warm shower. Even though the chill never quite left me throughout slathering myself in lotion and wrapping up in my warmest pajamas, it didn’t occur to me that anything was off off.

Then, at midnight, when the third full moon of the season was at its fullest, I was awakened by a blood-curdling sound that seemed to hang in the air for hours after it was released.

“Camila!”

I bolted from the warmth of my bed, flung my heavy door open, and sprinted down the hall to where my sister was supposed to be sleeping. What I found inside that room can never be erased from the darkest corners of my mind.

There was blood everywhere — on the floor, the walls, the ceiling. The room was frigid and vibrating. I felt a presence that turned me inside out, and I started to sweat and heave, regardless of the temperature of the room.

“Cami!” I called out to her, receiving no reply. “Sister!”

I rushed further into the space as whatever it was that I felt began to recede.

“Camila! Where are you?”

I searched and cried, but my sister was nowhere to be found.

The police arrived within minutes, and neighbors hovered on the edge of the property, haphazardly bundled in robes and coats like vultures at the site of carnage. There were hushed whispers of a ghost, a ghoul, or dark spirits.

An ambulance came.

Once the police had questioned me, I was examined by the EMTs and given a sedative. I was told I was in shock. Someone asked if I had any relatives or friends in the area who could stay with me. 

I shook my head. “Cami’s my only family.”

The sedative dumbed me down more than anything. I wasn’t able to sleep or relax. Before dawn, two FBI agents appeared on the scene. The local police were reluctant to let them speak with me, but they somehow persevered.

“Ms. Cruz?”

I looked up to find a string bean of a dude with puppy-dog eyes and a tentative, soothing voice. He introduced himself as Agent Gass and his partner as Agent Black. He asked how much time I’d spent in the house.

“Not even a day.”

Both men nodded. 

I suppose it should have tipped me off that they were not run-of-the-mill federales since they didn’t seem at all surprised by my answer or the situation the way local law enforcement did.

“You just bought the place, right?” asked the other agent.

Until he spoke, I hadn’t realized how tightly wound I was with fear and grief. The quality of his voice had a visceral effect on my senses, like a deep tissue massage or an epic fucking orgasm. 

This man’s voice, you guys...

I blinked rapidly, trying to clear my vision, then found that the face belonging to that voice was so beautiful I could no longer hold the tension in my body, and the tears began to flow.

(I know this sounds very dramatic, but I promise we won’t be spending much more time on the grim details. Also, don’t worry; Cami’s fine. I mean, she’s fucking traumatized, but it wasn’t her blood decorating the walls, is what I’m saying.)

The agents quickly bookended me. Agent Gass tugged a paper towel from the roll I’d left sitting on a side table the night before and handed it to me, muttering something about my nose and tears before Agent Black started talking again. 

“There’ve been reports of strange occurrences in this house for decades, but nothing violent.” He was so close that I could feel the rumble of each syllable like the hum of a lullaby or a stealth percussionist in the wild. “Have you witnessed anything out of the ordinary in the last 12 hours?”

I sniffled. “Besides all the fucking terrifying shit I’ve already told the cops?”

Agent Gass cleared his throat beside me. “We’re sorry, but we need to record our own findings. Do you mind telling us what happened?”

I rolled my eyes and blew my nose. “Fine,” I sighed, tossing the wadded-up snot rag into a nearby trash bag.

“It started when the sun set…” 

I recapped the evening’s events, groggily noticing once again that neither agent seemed nearly as taken aback as the local police.

“‘Blood-curdling sound’ — like a scream?” Agent Black’s question pinged in my brain while other parts of me continued to react to the sound of it. 

“I don’t know why I keep using that phrase... it wasn’t a scream, but... it woke me up, and I immediately knew something was wrong. I was chilled to the bone.”

Agent Black nodded. “You said you were cold before, so you took a shower. Was it the same kinda chill you felt when the sound woke you up?”

I shook my head, squinting to try and remember. “No... I- there’s cold chill and scared chill — I felt both at different times. I... I don’t know how else to describe it.”

Agent Black nodded, peeking over my head to his partner, and they exchanged a silent agreement.

I cannot stress enough how aggravated I am that I felt attraction at that moment. My twin sister was missing, and yet I couldn’t stop staring at his stupid mouth. At the time, I didn’t rationalize it at all, probably because of the drugs the EMTs gave me, but suffice it to say that Dean Winchester is a sorcerer. 

He pushed up from beside me, smoothing his tie and buttoning his suit jacket. “Thank you, Ms. Cruz. Try to get some sleep.” He made a subtle gesture to his partner, spurring him into action, then turned to survey the room with a narrowed gaze.

Agent Gass handed me a card. “Please give us a call if you think of anything else. We’ll be in touch.”

Well into the next day, my new home was under constant guard, filled by local law enforcement and various consultants. I didn’t see Agents Gass and Black again until two weird little guys with video equipment showed up. 

I walked out onto my side porch from the kitchen, wiping my hands on a dish towel, wondering what kind of new crew was on the case. By the time I made my way outside, Agent Black was there, hovering over the bearded guy with glasses.

“...I will shoot you, and you know I’m not fucking kidding,” he growled.

“Agent?” I asked, amused beyond reason at his violent threat and casually draping my dish towel over my shoulder. 

At this point, I’d been able to get some sleep and put a bit of time and space between my cognitive processes and the happenings surrounding Cami’s disappearance. So when that cocky little (there’s nothing little about Dean Winchester, OK, I’m being facetious) shit stretched those long, strong legs and climbed up onto my porch, I was fully aware and accepting of just how incredibly attracted to him I was.

He turned, his posture neutralizing and his eyes softening.

“Ms. Cruz. Yeah, hi...” He strode toward the porch. “Thought I’d stop by, see how you’re doin’.”

“Gabi, Agent.”

He grinned wide as he took the last step to stand in front of me, sliding his hands into his pockets and rocking to his heels and back. 

Such a little shit.

“Gabi… right.” He smirked, then glared over his shoulder at the newcomers. “These two botherin’ you?”

I peeked around him and shook my head before pulling back and looking him in the eye. “This’s the first I’ve seen of them. Coffee, Agent?”

He smirked. “Call me Dean.”

In hindsight, inviting him in for coffee was probably my first mistake. I could’ve offered coffee to him and those two boneheads from Wisconsin outside, but, as previously mentioned, I was busy derailing feminism. 

“How do you take it, Dean?” I asked, swiping one of the clean coffee mugs from an array of disorganized kitchenware yet to be shelved from the move. 

As I took the last two steps to my second-hand Nespresso machine, Dean remained silent, so I glanced over my shoulder before reaching for a coffee pod. He shook his head and blinked up from where he seemed to be mesmerized by something in the neighborhood of my hips.

“Black,” he answered with a lush, lopsided smile.

I nodded, then turned to focus on my task. “What brings you back this way? Is there something new with my case?”

“Uhh, yeah, actually — Agent Gass found some interesting things about the layout of this property on the county assessor’s website. D’you know this was a safe house in the Underground Railroad?”

“Yeah.” I turned and handed the agent his coffee. “That’s one of the reasons I bought it and one of the attractions of the bed and breakfast.” 

He thanked me for the cup, eyeing me closely. “So you’re aware of the secret passages in the home? In the room where your sister was sleeping the night she disappeared?”

I shook my head. “What? No. There’s no passageway in my sister’s room, only in the basement and the outbuildings.”

Dean shook his head, holding my gaze. “There’s a full network of passageways in the exterior walls of this house, Gabi,” he continued slowly and pointedly. “Your sister could be trapped. We’d like to take a look at the room again.”

(The next night, over a post-orgasmic cigarette, Dean told me all about another structure he and his brother had cleaned out and sealed off. Someone had erected an apartment building on the execution site of America’s first serial killer. Because Dean Winchester, in addition to being exasperatingly sexy and good with his hands, is a ghost and monster hunter with his brother not-Agent Gass, they come across this kind of thing all the time, I now understand.)

Five minutes after agreeing to let them explore the alleged secret passageways, Agents Black and Gass were sans jackets, rolling up their sleeves, and peering into the mouth of the Rosebud Suite’s small closet. 

“So...” I paused, absorbing the confirmation that all the things I feared went bump in the night and more are real. “What do you think you’re gonna find in there? A ghost? Vampires? My twin sister’s disembodied head?”

For the first time since meeting them, the agents looked at me in alarm. 

“Let’s not jump to conclusions,” Dean said, crossing the room to clasp a big, warm hand around my wrist and squeeze. “You’re twins?”

I nodded.

“Then if that twin stuff everybody talks about is real, you know she’s gonna be fine.” He smiled down at me with kindness. “All we know is that she’s missing, and we know the blood in the room is animal blood.”

Dean was right; I knew in my heart that Gabi would be fine, but as relieved as I should have been, I was suddenly much more disturbed on an entirely different level.

“Animal blood? No one told me this was animal blood. What the fuck is going on?!”

“That’s what we’re here to find out,” Agent Gass appeared at Agent Black’s side, and they exchanged looks before Agent Black continued.

“I dunno why the police didn’t tell you about the animal blood. Maybe they didn’t want to alarm you-”

“Alarm me? I’ve been walking around here worried Camila’s guts were all over one of my guest room walls. I’ve taken sooo much Xanax since Friday night. Is there anything else alarming I should know about?”

They looked at each other again for a beat before Dean shrugged.

“Those two little weirdos outside?” 

“Yeah?”

“They picked up readings that indicate the presence of a cursed object as well as confirmation of human life other than those of us in plain sight.”

I sighed, dropping my eyes to where Dean helpfully caressed my wrist.

“I feel like I’m in catechism... what’s a cursed object?”

I didn’t pull away because, like I said, his caress was very helpful.

“Just like it sounds. Somethin’, usually old, that’s been loaded up with black magic. If we can find it, we can cancel out the magic-”

“Black magic?! Who the fuck- wait, old?” 

Dean nodded, and sadly, he released my wrist.

“Oh, my god, the wine!”

The agents perked up at that and exchanged more silent looks.

“Gabi... where’s the bottle?”

When I say that I am unreasonably attracted to Dean Winchester, this is what I mean: watching him and the clean-shaven Ghostfacer pepper and ash an empty champagne bottle in a graveyard after telling me said bottle was “cursed” should have made me worry about their and my eternal soul like any other good Catholic girl, but no — I still took him to bed. 

Once we found Cami, of course.

“Cayenne pepper. Interesting.”

Dean unwedged the shotgun from propping his trunk of many wonders open before dropping it shut. “Not just for cookin’.” 

He shifted and swayed and sighed as he slid his hands into his pockets and fixed his crinkly, sparkling gaze on me with a lick of his smug smirk.

“Sam?” I asked about his gigantic younger brother, who was back at the house with the other Ghostfacer, rescuing my sister. “Does he have Camila?”

Dean’s face lit up, and his eyebrows popped. “Oh, yeah. She’s good. She’s talkin’ to the police.”

I sighed. “I’d like to go home now.”

I must’ve looked like a frightened and exhausted child at that moment because Dean’s entire demeanor softened as he reached out to pull me in for a hug. His clothes and skin felt and smelled warm, and I started to cry into his white button-up. 

“It’s a lot to take in, I know, but I gotcha, sweetheart,” he murmured, holding me close. “You’re fine, and so’s Camila.”

This. Man.

This gorgeous, brave, smells-like-you-expect/hope/pray- for-Axe-body-wash-to-smell (but it doesn’t) man, holding me like a fragile doll and calling me sweetheart is the only man I have allowed to witness a sliver of vulnerability since my dad died. So you can imagine the abject horror I felt at the increasing flip-flop from my guts and the heat pulsing even lower. 

I’ve experienced attraction, okay? I’ve had romantic and sexual partners, I self-lubricate at appropriate times. I orgasm.

But the way Dean Winchester made me feel was so alarming that I have since added that feeling to the stack of alarming things happening after Camila and I opened that bottle of wine.

He loosened his embrace but didn’t pull away completely, looking down at me with curiosity in his tender gaze. “Let’s go.”

Dean ushered me to the front passenger door, opened it, and helped me inside. We were quiet as Dean drove back to my bed and breakfast. The silence allowed my thoughts to dance until he pulled into the alley behind my house.

“They’re just wrapping up with the cops,” Harry said, sliding forward with his phone in hand.

The lights were on inside. Sam was standing in the middle of the kitchen, behind Cami, with one hand on the back of her chair. She was wrapped in a blanket, nodding her head at the men on the other side of the table, and Ed was in the corner, pocketing his phone.

It was all so clear, and I couldn’t wait to get out of the car and inside to hug my sister. 

“Whoa, gotta put the car in park, sweetheart,” Dean chuckled, doing just that.

I guess I really couldn’t wait.

And then I was sprinting to the back door.

Like I said before, Cami is fine. She’s shook, but alive and breathing and not bleeding. I’ve never felt so sick and relieved at the same time or cried so hard. That experience didn’t only bag me the sexiest, warmest, most loving man alive, but it also further strengthened Cami and my priorities for each other. 

Dean kicked the cops out, and Sam made coffee for everyone (which Dean spiked). At some point, the little Ghostfacer dudes squirreled away into guest rooms for the night, Sam and Dean lost their ties, and Cami fell asleep draped across my lap where we were huddled in the front parlor.

“Sammy’ll put her to bed,” Dean whispered, gently tugging me to my feet as Sam indeed lifted Camila in a bridal carry. “Which room you want her in?”

“The one adjoining mine, east wing at the end of the hall.”

Sam nodded, and Cami mumbled, burrowing into his massive chest. He turned and swept toward and up the stairs into the quiet darkness.

“Is it really over?” I asked the house itself as much as Dean. Thankfully, only Dean answered.

“Yeah, it’s over.”

I turned to face him, heaving a sigh. He watched me with that same inquisitive expression as the one from the graveyard, this time with his hands in pockets, sock-footed, sleeves neatly cuffed to his elbows, crisp white collar open at his throat — and he looked like he belonged there in the center of my parlor.

“Agent Black-”

“Yeah... about that...” He dropped his eyes for a beat before looking me in the eye with a renewed spark. “We’re not really federal agents.”

You might think that another surprise would send a person careening into catatonia, but not me. No. No, no, I laughed. I started laughing because it was fucking absurd — the whole thing was berserk, right? 

Cursed objects? Cayenne pepper as some kind of supernatural DEET? This remarkably handsome man existing? I was being Punk’d, right? Is that show still running? What is Ashton Kutcher doing these days anyway?

The answer to me being Punk’d is no. You might want to Google Ashton Kutcher because I still don’t know what he’s doing these days. 

Do I sometimes still stop feeding my chickens to look up at the clear blue sky and pinch myself in case this is all a dream?

The answer to that is yes.

“My name’s Dean Winchester. Sam’s my brother. We've been hunting ghosts and demons and-”

“Demons?!”

The good Catholic girl inside me stammered over that, and Dean nodded slowly, blinking even more slowly as he took a step and reached for me.

“I’ll tell ya everything,” he said with a tired smile and an easy clasp of my hand. “D’you mind if we get a few hours’ sleep first?”

I didn’t mind.

I led him upstairs. We peeked in on Cami, where Sam was watching over her, stretched out on the chaise in that room. They were both fast asleep. 

Dean followed me to my room, and I didn’t think twice about stripping myself bare as I made my way to my ensuite. Before I could conjure any pesky stranger-danger excuses, his hands were on me under the hot spray of water.

The next day, Cami dumped her boyfriend. I have a feeling she’d have done it even if the deadbeat had been assed to make the trip south during her 36-hour absence, but his ineptitude made it easy.

Turns out, the brothers Winchester are more than okay with Cami and my connection. Turns out, they’re more than familiar with that kind of connection too.

Dean molds himself to my back, pressing kisses to the side of my neck and the parts of my shoulder that are bared by my tank top. 

“Almost done? Sammy’s makin’ breakfast.”

I hum, letting him swallow me up. “Shower first?”

Ever since that very first night, Dean and I have showered together just in case the water’s cursed, and if it isn’t? Conservation. Right?

Plus, we really like giving each other orgasms.

Five minutes later...

“God damn, I love your mouth,” I sigh as water sluices over my shoulders and spirals my arms before filtering into his hair, where he’s burying his face between my thighs.

Dean’s let his hair grow lately, giving me a lot more to grab onto, not that he needs direction. (He has a beard, too, which wouldn’t normally be my thing at all, but because I know what’s under there, I’m good with it.)

He hums and licks and moans and sucks. The pressure’s always just right — never too much or not enough. I’ve never had anyone down there who knew as much about eating pussy as Dean Winchester. He’s good with his hands, his dick, and toys, too, but man, he loves giving head and is a mother fucking pro at it.

“Dean,” I gasp and flail, nearly busting through the shower curtain and toppling over the end of the claw-foot tub to my death.

Dean lunges up and hooks an arm around my hips, gathering me closer, and I explode.

“Mmm, such a good girl, Gabriela.” He licks his lips as he drags me into the tub with him. Water beats down on his back as he notches his hips in the place his face just vacated. 

I toss one calf over the back of the tub and watch Dean grip his hard dick to slip and slide along my slit. 

“Don’t tease me, Dean. Get inside.” I thrust my hips and reach for him. 

He cocks a brow, lifting my other knee to drape over the other side of the tub, punching the curtain, and slopping water onto the floor. “Honey, I ain’t teasin’; I’m goin’ easy on ya.”

“Pfft!” Now I’m panting like a dog with my ass suspended three inches above the base of the tub. “Who asked you to take it easy on me? I sure didn’t.”

Dean smirks, wrapping one big hand around one hip and steadily guiding himself inside. 

“Fuck.” I drop my head to the porcelain under me and clamp my hands around the edges of the vintage bath to take what he gives.

Every time.

Every time, he feels so perfectly hardhotsmooth, so thick, so heavy. 

And I can’t not stare because he is perfectly beautiful.

“You’re so beautiful, Gabi,” he whispers as he slides his other hand around my other hip and grinds into me.

“Uhhh!”

We both groan, and my back arches all by itself.

He tells me I’m beautiful, and sometimes it feels like a lie — not because I think he’s dishonest but because Dean Winchester is the most beautiful man I’ve ever known.

He drags out slow, and thrusts back in hard and hot, swearing before biting his lip. 

“Fuckin’ perfect,” he mutters, tossing his head back into the fall of water before looking back down at me as he blinks water out of his eyes. Then he smiles wide and bright, almost like he’s laughing. “Hold on tight.”

I never take Dean’s warnings lightly.

He sets a hard rhythm, grunting with each thrust, and I echo.

“You look so good, baby — fuck me so good.” 

Dean’s a tough guy and everything, but he loves praise. I give him pet names and tell him how smart and strong he is. I am always sure to thank him for every little thing he does to help me. And he goes fucking crazy when I praise him for fucking me right.

“Give it to me,” I breathe, clenching around him. “I love your dick... so hard and thick — please, Dean.”

I can’t pretend with him, either. No praise I ever give him is lip service. I really do love his dick.

He pitches forward, bracing his hands on the edge above my head, stretched over me like a telephone wire, and that fucking shift-

“Hooofuck, I- ahh!” 

Dean arches and grinds up against my g-spot, pinning me in place until I burst.

“Yesyesyes!” Dean beats a hand against the side of the tub in time with my pulses and throbs around him. “Fuck, honey, yes.”

And then five minutes after that...

“All I’m saying is, if you want some alone time,” Sam actually uses air quotes. “Just say so, and we won’t wait. At the kitchen table. Directly beneath your bathroom.”

Dean rolls his eyes, and Cami and I stifle corresponding giggles.

“It’s not like I personally came down here and burned the toast,” Dean pretends to make sense as he folds a piece of bacon into his mouth. “Bacon’s good.”

He looks to me for agreement, and I nod. 

“It is good bacon!” Then I look at Sam. “We’ll be quieter next time.”

Cami guffaws. “No, you won’t!”

I playfully backhand her and shrug. “Probably not, but the bacon’s still good, and I love you guys.”

Sam snorts and shakes his head. “Yeah, OK, I love you, too, Gab.”

“Hey, don’t be gettin’ my girl mixed up with yours.” Dean mumbles around a mouth full of food as he stabs into his pile of fried potatoes.

I peek over at Camila and catch her looking at me. A memory flashes in my mind of pink bubbly and shivering myself to sleep and that awful fear that my sister was gone forever. Then, Camila blinks, and I’m filled with the warmth of knowing she would return to me and that we would both live happily ever after with the perfectly imperfect Winchester brothers from Lawrence, Kansas.

MJ's Master List

MJ's SPN Master List

MJ's Dean Winchester Master List

What did you think?

[gentle-traditionalism]

hello lovely, hope you’re having a nice day! do u have any tips for girls who are on the younger side (like 17 yrs old) who wanna be trad? I’ve been trying to look more into feminine living n etiquette rules and stuff, any stuff I should enhance further or do as well?

Hello! I have been having a lovely day, thank you. I do have a lot of advice that I’d give to younger trad girls, but I should clarify that to me, being trad is largely about values and goals - such as loving God, being feminine, and raising a strong, honourable family - rather than aesthetic, so my advice might lean more towards trad lifestyle tips rather than say, glow-up tips (though I do have a few of those) Here are some of my tips:

Put God first in your life. Read the Bible and pray daily, and always remember God’s love. Find a church that doesn’t sugar-coat things, but also isn’t all doom and gloom. Neither are beneficial for your long-term spiritual growth.

Make sure to love and take care of yourself. This doesn’t mean that you should be self-obsessed or vain, but it’s so important to treat yourself kindly. If you don’t love yourself you are likely to put up with other people mistreating you because you think you don’t deserve better, and you absolutely do.

Since tradblr has a major focus on being a wife, I’d give this advice; don’t stress about finding your husband right now. I know how annoying this can be to hear, but seventeen is very young. While I still feel much the same as I did when I was seventeen, I have had so many more experiences and grown as a person since then. As much as I wish I was married now, I’m still very glad that I didn’t marry when I was a teenager/very young adult, because I would have many regrets. If you already have a boyfriend who you want to marry someday, keep this in mind; don’t make any serious relationship decisions until you see how he acts around/treats his family. If you marry him, you’ll be his family and he’ll treat you the same way. On the same note, don’t make any commitments until you see him angry. This doesn’t mean that you should purposefully make him angry (please don’t do that) but you want to see how he controls his temper. At the end of the day, it really is best to wait until you are both older to make any commitments, especially since men tend to mature slower than women (please note; this does not mean you should seek out older men! Keep yourself safe). With that being said, you can absolutely plan and prepare for when you are older! So on that note...

Get a hope chest! It doesn’t have to be a fancy antique one; it could just be any old storage bucket. If you do have an antique one, make sure to inspect the latch - you don’t want one that could lock a child or anyone else inside. Fill it with things you want to fill your future home with, or things for your future children. This can help motivate you if you ever feel frustrated with waiting.

Eat healthy. There are hundreds of different diets out there, but eating doesn’t have to be anything complicated; just eat real food with real ingredients, and make sure you eat enough fruits, vegetables, and get lots of meat/protein. This is a good opportunity to practice cooking as well!

Save up as much money as you can. You’re more likely to be living at home now, so save while you don’t have as many bills to pay.

Don’t curse. Cursing makes you seem less intelligent, and it’s often mean-spirited. Swearing is also just not ladylike.

Practice cooking, baking, cleaning, learn an instrument (piano or violin are especially nice in my opinion) mending, knitting, decorating...any kind of traditionally feminine skill you are interested in, start practicing now. You want to start living your future dream life now as much as possible. Not only do you have more time to gain skills before you need them, but you also are able to determine if it’s really what you want or if you need to adjust your goals.

As for some beauty tips:

- Hair: Give yourself scalp massages, get a natural hairbrush (wood, boar bristle, etc) and brush your hair for 100 strokes every night, and then braid it or put it in a protective hairstyle before sleeping. Satin or silk pillowcases are also excellent. Do a hair mask once a week.

- Skin: Instead of focusing on covering up blemishes with makeup, focus on taking care of your skin! Drink lots of water, avoid touching your face, wash your face twice a day, and use a good moisturizer. Find out your skin type to figure out the best way to care for your skin.

- Teeth: Try oil pulling! It helps so much. Brush at least twice a day (not immediately after eating, though, as it can damage your enamel) and don’t brush too hard; you don’t want to damage your gums.

I’d also recommend finding a nice perfume/fragrance! I’ve avoided this until recently, as I’m very sensitive to fragrances and always got headaches. But I found that in my case, higher-quality perfumes don’t bother me, and so I’ve been wearing my signature perfume daily. Find a signature scent - for me, it’s peony. It makes you instantly recognizable when you walk into a room. You don’t want to wear too much of it, but having a nice perfume just makes me feel more feminine and happy, and I’ve been getting many compliments.

There’s more to be said, and it’s likely I’ve forgotten something, but I’ll leave it there for now. If you have any more questions, or if you want more specific advice on specific subjects, feel free to ask! I hope this was helpful to you in some way!

[pshattuck]

Hello everyone so this is going to be a pretty big blog about the upcoming future of my life as a artist. So to try to shave off some time I will be copying and pasting the Twitter thread I made to here.

Startiiiing now:

“Hey everyone I got another update for you and it’s probably gonna sound like “she’s changing shit again” but I feel like a lot has been going on in my life and a lot of it is changing too and I think I discovered something about me and my artwork that I feel like is important.

The reason I started pumping out content before this new job I got was well after I lost my old caregiving job YouTube and commissions were my only source of income for the last 6 month and I honestly was making enough for bills at that point it was my family keeping me afloat.

So yeah, life was not kind to me and I got.. well extremely depressed. I kept applying and no one was accepted them the one job I wanted I did not get and I was lucky to just get by. My brain all the time for the past few months kept saying I was a failure Until I got lucky.

I just got done with shadowing and orientation and I’m now officially working at a job that yeah can be stressful but I fully enjoy. I’m feeling happy and I’m finally healing from this dark cloud that’s following me. And with this month coming to an end I realized something.

Growing up my art was the one thing that kept me happy it was my happiness from real life issues and it got me to meet the love of my life along with great people in online community’s. However, the more it became a stressor to live off my art… the less it made me happy.

Not to mention the reason I shared my art to begin with because even if it was cringe or my art was not the best in the past … I always loved to see people enjoy it. It killed me to ask people to give me money to draw for them. It’s just not me.

I allowed a online algorithm, and a few words from a small handful of people to make me second guess what I loved to do, I allowed money to make me decide what I should work on…I realized I secretly hated myself for it.

This new opportunity in my life is why I’m writing what I am today and it’s my own choices and it’s one I’m actually happy with.

Everything I draw will be free to view I’m going to build it up on Tapas and Tumblr just for the multiple image support plus they have better age restriction on there platforms because I’m a adult and do want to dabble in NSFW stuff.

The one animation I have on sale in my store I will be making it free to view. For the amazing person who did buy the pack I will be dming them so once my paycheck comes, they will be refunded.

And now for the big thing.

The next few months I will be saving my own money and working on Concept Art for the next few months along with working on comics because by next year I want to work and pay people to help me bring my comics to life as animated projects.

The first project will more then likely be Jackie’s Everyday Adventure because it has the least amount of characters and backgrounds and will dabble in the form of 3D animation. This will be a strictly animated series with some rewrites from the original comic version.

Homebrew… is honestly the biggest project since there is over 30 chapters and I’m not even halfway done writing scripts. I won’t Even considering working on animating that until at least chapter 10 is out.

Everything else will be explained over on Tumblr that will be where I blog about my projects since there’s not as tiny of a character limit on there. Thank you all for reading this and I will link the full update on Tumblr and I will share a link to it on here.”

And now here we are on Tumblr!

The only thing I will be keeping for any financial support will be Ko-fi but that’s only if people want to, I’m not going to have anything locked behind a pay wall.

Commissions will no longer be open because I will just be doing art trades or request. Since my new job is full time I don’t need to worry about the stress of not finishing something quickly.

Physical print books are still gonna be a thing however not for a long while. Since my old client liked my original books ill be printing a small handful of copies of them so I can give them to her to read at the nursing home. And leftover copies will be for contest prizes.

YouTube on the other hand… I’m going to be honest I’m not sure if I truly will bring back Pshattuckproductions. The most fun I have had with YouTube was building up lunar comics. I will honestly be focusing on that channel in terms of any uploads.

So far this is all for now. So see you soon everyone.

[luniibelieves]

Speaking Through the Silence: How God Expressed My Feelings to My Mom

Whenever I'm with my mom, I make sure she doesn't have to spend a dime—I take care of my share of the rent for the room I occupy, meals, household necessities and other expenses. Also, if she's facing accumulating bills or debts, I contribute as much as possible to help her stay afloat. Plus, she's got my uncle who takes care of the full rent, and my brother, who assists with her phone bill and car insurance when he can.

Mom: Ugh, I’ve got a ton of bills coming up, but no money to cover them. Me: Where is all your money? Have you been going to the casino again? Mom: *went ballistic* WHAT EYES DID YOU SEE ME GO HUH?! I DONT EVEN KNOW HOW TO GET TO THE CASINO! Me: Parx Casino would not randomly send mail home with your name on it if you had not visited. Mom: My, my friend took me! And he gave me HIS MONEY to spend! Me: Who can say if he didn't invite you again, or if you'll use your own money after spending his? All I know is that you keep saying you're out of money. What's the reason for that? Mom: THIS CONVERSATION IS OVER! I DONT WANT TO TALK ABOUT IT NO MORE!

I was frustrated trying to address how her gambling and financial decisions affect us. Her emotional reactions and interruptions made me drop the topic to avoid conflict.

Later that night, I dreamed I was arguing with her about the same issue. Surprisingly, I spoke Vietnamese fluently in the dream, whereas I struggle with words in reality since she doesn’t understand English. I woke up suddenly, still speaking the words from the dream, which startled me. Overwhelmed with frustration, I began to cry and then prayed:

"Father, I’m unsure how to handle her situation. I’m exhausted from using all my money to cover her debts and bills. My own savings are depleted, and I can’t make progress in life. Talking to her only leads to yelling. But I’m placing it all in Your hands now. I refuse to let it stress me any longer. In Jesus’ name I pray, Amen.”

Two days later, I took her to her favorite restaurant, where she knows one of the senior employees. It was a quiet day, so he joined us at our table. While I focused on my meal, he and my mom talked about mutual friends. She shared a lot about various topics, and then, quite suddenly, the conversation turned to someone with a gambling problem!

Him: He has a job, but when payday comes, he spends all his money at the casino and ends up losing everything: his house, his car, and his family. I just can’t understand why people gamble away their hard-earned money. Mom: *quiet* Him: Not only does it ruin their life but also damages their relationships with family, friends, and those around them. Mom: *quiet*

I couldn't believe it when, in that unexpected moment, he voiced almost everything I'd wanted to say about gambling. I struggled to hide my smirk, while thinking to myself, "Yassss! Keep it going, sir!" Lol. It was a moment of silent triumph.

Him: When I have spare funds, I buy inexpensive vacant land, pay minimal annual taxes, and, if I can’t sell it, I plan to pass it down to my children for their benefit. Me: Interesting! It’s a smart strategy—when large companies eventually buy the land for business or development, they often offer more than what you paid. Plus, you’re building generational wealth for your children. I love that! Mom: *quiet*

When I got home, I retreated to my room, filled with joy and gratitude. I offered heartfelt prayers, believing that God had heard me and acted on my behalf. It seemed He moved that man to share a message that echoed my own thoughts and encouraged her to consider investing instead of wasting her resources. While I’m unsure if this will lead to any change or if she’ll heed the advice, it was incredibly comforting to have my unspoken words voiced by another, without the fear of being dismissed. This experience has strengthened my decision to follow God's path more closely, as I’ve felt His profound influence in my life.

1 Peter 5:7

“Cast all your anxiety on him because he cares for you.”

God cares deeply for us and is willing to bear our burdens. We are encouraged to cast all our worries and anxieties upon Him, knowing that He is able to handle them and provide us with the strength and comfort we need. It is a beautiful reminder that we do not have to carry the weight of our worries alone; we have a God who is ready to help us.

[whentherewerebicycles]

just got hit with an unexpected $600 bill for what my insurance says is a “noncovered service” even though they’ve covered it in the past sooo gonna have to call about that later and already have the sinking despair feeling of: it’s probably not going to get waived. between this and a week of unfortunate vet bills I think the dream of one last trip before the baby is not going to happen and I feel pretty bummed about that… also I fear I will be broke for the rest of my life because I spent almost the entirety of my 20s making $15k a year in grad school and it turns out that does not set you up for long-term financial stability in your 30s. but it was sunny out and we went for a nice long calming walk, including a foray into the cool dark woods where little mushrooms are growing up out of the damp earth. I’m in a pretty bad funk right now but money isn’t real and it’s not really fair to compare myself to my brothers’ financial situations when they make way more money than me, have been working well-paying jobs for much longer than me, and are part of two-income households. ugh I just have some black sheep feelings around being the oldest in the family and yet perpetually the one whose financial situation is the most precarious. but like I made my professional choices! and it’s fine it’s fine I like my life I just wish I felt less squeezed all the time. I will pursue various avenues to try to get this medical bill partially covered. I will start this second job in January and if they don’t give me enough hours I will pick up another one. also I will cry a bunch right now because I can tell I just need to get it out of my system.

oh and maybe I will practice doing this cognitive behavioral therapy triangle thing my therapist gave me as homework.

activating event: got walloped with another huge medical bill which has been a huge stressor for me all year (bc so many fucking medical bills)

belief (negative self-talk): I am either broke or on the verge of being broke all the time, I have no savings cushion at all, and every small setback makes me feel like I’m one crisis away from real financial catastrophe. this means I am a fuck-up and a failed adult who probably has no business having a baby. this situation is my own fault and reflects an inner unworthiness. also my parents and family are probably silently judging me for being an idiot with my money.

consequence (how I feel as a result): I feel a lot of shame and it makes me feel really bad

now I am supposed to go back to the belief and try to disentangle it/give myself an alternative narrative.

alternate belief: I live in a society with a super fucked up healthcare system that extorts us all to the maximum extent; I also live in a culture where insurance companies are allowed to be like ‘haha very funny go fuck yourself’ to lgbtq people and people with fertility issues who want to have kids. I have made values-aligned choices about what I want my life to look like (working in public ed and having a family), and it is a brave and honorable thing to create a life you believe in when there is lots of pressure to do something different instead (keep the horrible government contractor job that paid an obscene amount of money, not have a baby). that might be being a failed adult by some people’s standards, but if I think about what being a grown-up means to me I think it should include being able to exercise autonomy over my body/choices and making decisions that bring my lived experience into closer alignment with my core values and beliefs. also money is real but it also isn’t real and I can do the “stress now and suffer twice” thing or I can take a deep breath and move through it and hope things look different in six months. also people who are financially stable don’t “deserve” to have families more than people who don’t have savings or are dealing with a lot of debt! that’s not how it works!