#SAP CAM

[eulchu]

Telephone does anyone have the clip of dream asking sapnap if he wants lamp?

i have this animation :3

[fen-the-space-dragon]

I think I’ve picked the right path for my life when I get to go outside and see all this cool stuff

And then I get to go back inside and listen to a dnd podcast while looking through trail cam photos and find that in addition to bikers (so many bikers. Do not set a camera up to look for animals near a trail) there was a coyote!!

Really glad I decided to make a different decision cuz last year I was sitting inside staring at code I didn’t understand all day. Now I get to go outside and regardless of if I’m outside or inside I get to look at critters and cool plants all day :D

[tornoaserjo]

Keep my wifes' names out of your mouth

[amyzworldds]

Title: Long Hair, Don’t Care

During Seventeen’s Right Here World Tour, Dino’s decision to grow out his hair—thanks to his girlfriend's endless praise—sparks a fan frenzy. Pairing: Dino x reader Genre: Fluff, humor

The Right Here World Tour had Seventeen dominating stages worldwide, and Dino—your unfairly charming boyfriend—was having a moment. It all started when he decided to skip the haircuts after you’d raved about his longer locks at the tour’s start in Seoul. “It suits you so well,” you’d said, twirling a strand around your finger, and boom—Dino was hooked. No scissors dared come near him after that.

Now, months into the tour, his hair was long—like, poking-his-eyes, flipping-it-back-every-chorus long. You were smitten. Every time he brushed it off his face mid-performance, you’d catch yourself grinning like a total sap. And the fans? They were just as feral. Facebook and tiktok were a battlefield of Dino hype: grainy soundcheck pics, fan cams of him shaking out his bangs, captioned with pure chaos. “If not boyfriend, then why boyfriend shape?” one fan demanded. Another fired off, “If not boyfriend, stop being boyfriendable, I’m on my knees.” Someone even joked, “Dino’s hair is longer than my last relationship—hide the scissors!”

Then there were the conspiracy theories. Fans were dissecting his glow like it was a crime scene. “No way he’s this fine without a girlfriend,” one wrote under a dreamy selca. “That hair, that smile—someone’s loving him right, and it’s not just carats.” Another added, “He’s too boyfriendable to be single. I bet he’s got a secret lover keeping him that shiny.”

You, his very real and very proud girlfriend, were thriving. Your phone was a shrine to this long-haired Dino era—your gallery overflowing with fan-taken soundcheck pics you’d saved from social media. Before your nightly video call ritual, you couldn’t resist texting him a screenshot of your camera roll: rows of Dino mid-hair-flip, looking ethereal. “Babe,” you typed, “I think I need a new phone. My storage’s crying—512GB isn’t enough for all this boyfriend material.”

Minutes later, Dino replied from his hotel room fresh off stage: “You’re ridiculous. How many pics do you even have?!” You smirked, firing back, “Enough to crash my phone. Blame the fans—they’re feeding my obsession.”

When the video call finally connected, there he was—sprawled on his bed, hair a gorgeous mess, still buzzing from the show. “Babe,” you said, smirking at him through the screen as you propped your phone up. “Your fans are wild. My gallery’s a disaster because of you—soundcheck pics are taking over my life. And they’re saying stuff like, ‘If not boyfriend, then why boyfriend shape?’ I’m dying.”

Dino laughed, that bright, heart-melting laugh you lived for, running a hand through his bangs only for them to flop right back. “Boyfriend shape? What am I, a Ken doll?”

“Pretty much,” you teased. “They’re also onto you. They’re like, ‘He’s glowing too much, he’s got a girlfriend for sure.’ They’re sniffing me out!”

He grinned, leaning closer to the camera. “Well, they’re not wrong. I’ve got the best girlfriend hoarding pics of me like a stalker. And didn’t someone beg me to keep the hair long because it ‘suits me so well’?”

You gasped, clutching your chest. “Okay, rude, calling me a stalker when I’m just appreciating art! But yeah, I did say that… and now I’m regretting it because the fans are out here calling you boyfriendable, and I’m over here like, ‘Back off, that’s my boyfriend shape!’”

Dino smirked, tilting his head so his hair fell even more into his eyes. “Oh, now you’re jealous? You were all, ‘Baby, it’s so sexy, never cut it,’ and now I’m too boyfriendable for you?”

“Exactly!” you shot back, giggling. “I’ve created a monster. My phone’s dying, the fans are feral—I might have to sneak into one of your concerts with scissors and chop those bangs off so they stop making edits of you looking like a K-drama lead.”

He clutched his hair protectively. “Don’t you dare! You’re the reason I’m out here looking like a mop with a skincare routine. This is your fault, babe.”

“A mop?!” you cackled. “More like a shiny, boyfriend-shaped mop. They’re right—you’re too pretty to be single. Good thing I’ve got you locked down.”

“Locked down?” he teased, pushing his hair back again. “You’re the one filling your phone with my pics. I’m keeping this mess because you love it and the fans love it. I’m winning for Team Long Hair.”

You sighed dramatically. “Fine, you win. But when the tour’s over, I’m braiding it. Maybe slapping a bow on it. Gotta remind them who’s got the real claim.”

Dino chuckled, smiling as he shook his head. “Deal. But I’m only this boyfriendable because of you, you know that, right?”

You softened, smiling back at him. “And I’m only this obsessed because of you, you know that, right?”

“Touché,” he said, blowing you a kiss through the screen. “Love you, stalker.”

“Love you too, boyfriend shape,” you replied, winking.

-----------------------------------------------------------an: please, I can’t get over Dino’s long hair pics from sound check—it’ll be my cause of ☠️😭

[missmaymay13]

you belong with me - w.eklund

⸻⸻⸻⸻⸻⸻

w.eklund x fem!oc | 4.5k

summary : based on the song by taylor swift

masterlist

⸻⸻⸻⸻⸻⸻

The SAP Center was alive.

Not just with noise, but energy. Pulsing, electric, tangible. Every heartbeat of the building synced with the drums of anticipation, a sea of teal jerseys washing over the stands, fans chanting, clapping, waving signs with hopeful, glitter-covered letters. The ice gleamed beneath the lights like a frozen lake under moonlight, and William Eklund should have been focused on the game, on the puck, on the playbook burned into his brain.

But his gaze drifted. Again.

She was there.

Four rows back, lower bowl, just to the left of the tunnel. He’d seen thousands of faces from that spot before, but never one like hers. She had this quiet glow about her, like she belonged in a world apart from the harsh stadium lights. Honey-blonde waves framed her face, catching the glint of the overheads with every turn of her head. Her lips curved in a soft, warm smile, the kind that felt private, even if it wasn’t meant for him.

William's breath caught in his throat.

She was radiant.

Even through the plexiglass and distance, he felt the weight of her presence. He couldn’t hear her laugh, but he imagined it sounded like sunlight—like mornings when everything feels a little easier. She wore Will Smith’s jersey and leaned forward in her seat with pride, hands clasped as she watched warmups. She wasn’t watching William. Of course she wasn’t. Her attention belonged to her cousin.

And the guy sitting beside her.

Tall, broad, stiff. His jaw clenched so tightly William could see the line of it from the ice. The boyfriend. Obviously. He wasn’t watching the game. Just sitting there, arms crossed, his vibe more territorial than supportive.

William felt his stomach twist.

He tried to refocus, to shake it off as he moved through drills, but every few laps, his eyes found their way back to her. It was magnetic, involuntary, and completely out of his control.

"You good, Eky?" Macklin Celebrini’s voice broke through the trance, teasing as he skated up beside him and bumped his elbow.

William blinked, startled. "Yeah. Why?"

Mack followed the direction of his gaze, smirk curling with recognition. "Oh... I wouldn’t if I were you."

William’s brow furrowed. "What do you mean?"

Mack’s grin widened. "A) That’s Will’s cousin—Ella. And B) she’s got a boyfriend."

The name settled in his chest like a stone. Ella. Soft, pretty. A name that suited her.

William risked another glance. She was laughing now at something Will said, her whole face lit up like the first burst of fireworks on a July night. Meanwhile, her boyfriend sat stiff beside her, unmoved.

William swallowed hard.

She looked happy, but not in the way someone should be when they’re in love. Not in the way he imagined making her smile.

He exhaled and pushed off from the boards.

The game ended in a one-goal loss. Frustrating, deflating. The locker room was quiet, the air heavy with what-ifs. Still, the younger guys—always resilient—decided to shake it off. Someone suggested heading over to Mack’s place, and soon enough, laughter and the smell of pizza filled the apartment.

William found himself on the corner of the couch, half-listening to Zack argue with Cam about penalties when the front door creaked open.

And there she was.

Ella.

This time, dressed in an oversized hoodie, her hair pulled up into a high ponytail, strands falling loosely around her face. Her cheeks were flushed from the cold, and she looked even more beautiful than she had in the arena—realer, softer. Alone.

No boyfriend.

William sat up, heart thumping louder than it had when he stepped on the ice.

Will met her near the entrance. "Hey, where’s Jack?"

She shrugged, brushing a loose thread off her hoodie. "He was tired. Wanted to go home."

Will tilted his head. "That’s not all of it."

Ella sighed, voice quiet but not weak. "We got in another fight. He didn’t even want to come to the game. Said I didn’t need to be here for every moment of your career—that it’s not my place to act like it matters so much to me."

Will looked like he was ready to throw hands. He’d never liked Jack—never. From the first day he met him, something had been off. And the stories he heard from his mom Colleen or his sister Grace only confirmed it. Jack was selfish, cold, dismissive. He never cared about Ella the way she deserved. "That’s not just wrong—it’s insane. You belong here. And he doesn’t get to decide that you don’t."

She smiled, a little sadly, eyes flicking toward the floor. Will’s heart hurt every time he thought about it—how miserable she was with Jack. How lonely she felt, even when she pretended she wasn’t. Ella had always loved loud, with her whole chest, with everything she had to give. And Jack? Jack barely gave anything back. He never matched her energy, never held her the way she held him. She poured herself into their relationship, gave it her best and her patience and her loyalty, and Jack dropped her without hesitation the second something more convenient came along.

She had moved to San Jose a few years ago for school, hoping for a fresh start, but she didn’t have much family here—just Will. And somewhere along the way, Jack had managed to isolate her from even the few friends she had managed to make. Will had seen it all. Felt helpless through it all. And he hated it.

William’s chest tightened. That look—like she wanted to be happy but didn’t know how.

He couldn’t stop staring. Every time she smiled, even faintly, it was like a light flicking on in a dark room. He didn’t know her. Not really. But somehow, she already felt familiar.

Later, as the noise mellowed into soft conversation and low music, Mack waved him over.

"Ella, meet William," Mack said, grin knowing.

William shook her hand, trying not to show how warm his palms had gotten. "Hi. It’s really nice to meet you."

Ella’s eyes met his, curious and amused. "You too. I’ve heard your name more times than I can count. Will’s basically your hype man."

William chuckled. "Hopefully in a good way."

"The best way," she said, then tilted her head. "You were great tonight. Even if the score didn’t say so."

Something twisted in William’s chest. No one ever said that. Not like it mattered.

They talked. And kept talking.

She was sharp, funny, open. She asked questions with genuine interest, and when she laughed, it was with her whole face—unfiltered, bold. William forgot about the game. About the crowd. About the guy who didn’t bother showing up.

But every so often, Ella’s gaze flicked to her phone, where it buzzed quietly on the edge of the coffee table. She’d check it, eyes dim, thumb hovering over the screen.

Will caught it, too. He walked past, snatched the phone up.

"Hey!"

"Nope," Will said, slipping it into his pocket. "One night. Just one night, El. Be with people who actually want you here."

Ella’s mouth parted in protest. Then closed.

She smiled. For real.

William’s heart cracked open. Even in the short time he'd known her, it hurt him—physically, viscerally—to know she wasn’t being treated the way she should be. She gave so much of herself, and still came up empty. He hadn’t earned the right to feel protective, not yet, but he couldn’t help it. He could already see the difference in how he’d hold her if he had the chance—how he’d show up, make her feel seen, wanted, valued. He would never let her feel like she had to beg for affection or attention. And it broke something inside him knowing that someone else had the privilege of her love and didn’t know what to do with it.

Hours later, after the group had thinned out, William stepped onto the back patio. The air was crisp, stars half-hidden behind city glow. He found her out there, curled into a blanket on a lounge chair, watching the skyline.

She looked up. "Couldn’t sleep either?"

He shook his head. "Didn’t try."

He sat beside her, close but not too close. She smelled like lavender and cold air.

"You like it here? San Jose?" she asked.

"I do. It’s... different. But good."

She nodded. "You looked calm out there."

"Wasn’t. Not with you watching."

Her head turned, startled—but not annoyed. Curious.

"You noticed me?"

"Couldn’t stop."

Ella smiled, small and real. "Jack never notices when I go to games. He complains that I waste my energy cheering for other people."

William’s voice dropped. "You deserve someone who wants you to cheer for them. Who cheers for you, too."

Silence stretched.

Then she whispered, "You ever wonder what it would be like to be seen? Not just looked at, but really... seen?"

He did. All the time. And right now, he felt like he was seeing her. Really seeing her.

"I think you should know," he said, voice barely above a breath, "that there are people here who see you. People who care for you. People who aren’t afraid to show it."

He meant Will, of course. Macklin too. But mostly, painfully, himself. Not that he could say it out loud—not yet.

She leaned into him, her head resting on his shoulder like it belonged there.

William sat still, afraid to move, to break the moment. But inside, something bloomed.

He wanted her to be happy. He wanted her to feel loved, not tolerated. Wanted her to laugh and never second-guess it. He didn’t need to be the guy who saved her. He just wanted to be the guy who cherished her.

Because she belonged with someone who saw her clearly.

⸻⸻⸻⸻⸻⸻

Practice had just wrapped at Sharks Ice, and the locker room buzzed with the usual post-practice energy—half-tired jokes, the hiss of showers turning on, the rhythmic thud of gear hitting the floor. William Eklund sat at his stall, tugging off a soaked shoulder pad when a strange stillness caught his eye.

Will Smith was standing in the doorway.

Still in full gear, helmet pushed back off his head, one glove still on. His other hand gripped his phone tight, pressed to his ear like the force of the conversation was the only thing holding him up. His brow was drawn, jaw clenched, and his back—usually relaxed even in tension—looked rigid. Like he was bracing for something.

William tilted his head, quietly studying him from across the room. He couldn’t hear what Will was saying. Couldn’t even read his lips clearly. But he could feel it. The emotion, the weight. Whatever this conversation was about, it wasn’t good.

Macklin Celebrini dropped onto the bench beside him, sliding his helmet off with a quiet sigh. He nudged William’s shoulder, nodding subtly toward the doorway.

"It’s Ella," Mack said, voice low. "She got in another fight with Jack."

William’s stomach dropped.

He hadn’t seen Ella in a few days, but since that night at Mack and Will’s, she’d started coming around more often. Sometimes she came with Will, sometimes on her own. Just to sit and talk. To exist in a space that didn’t demand anything from her.

But every time William saw her, she looked more and more like she was fading.

Exhausted. Smiling, sure—but never with her eyes. Never like that first night.

It killed him. Slowly. Watching it happen.

She’d sit on the floor of the apartment with her legs pulled to her chest and listen to Mack complain about the media or Will talk through new drills. She’d laugh softly, say something kind, or tease Mack for his dramatic reenactments of board battles. And William would just... watch. Quietly. Carefully.

Every now and then, she’d catch him looking. She never said anything. Just offered that same tired smile and looked away.

Will had vented a few times in the locker room—only when it was just the three of them. He talked about how Ella kept going back. How it was tearing her down little by little. How she believed she could fix Jack if she just loved him enough.

"He’s not the kind of guy you fix," Will had said once, face hollowed out in worry. "He just drains the people who try."

Now, watching Will pace near the locker room exit, William felt a familiar helplessness settle over him. He wanted to help. To step in. To do something. But it wasn’t his place.

Not yet.

A few minutes later, Will came back into the room in a rush. His eyes were red around the rims, not from tears, but from frustration—burned out and seething. He yanked off his helmet, ripped his jersey over his head, and started shedding gear so fast it looked like he was racing himself. There wasn’t even time for the usual post-practice banter.

He muttered something to Macklin, and William only caught the tail end of it: "...pick her up."

Mack didn’t hesitate. Just nodded once, solemnly.

Then they were gone.

The locker room slowly emptied out, teammates trickling away in twos and threes, the noise thinning until it was just William left sitting on the bench, still in his compression top, skates unlaced.

He pulled out his phone.

You good?

No response.

He stared at the message for a while, thumb hovering over the screen.

Then he added:

Everything okay with Ella?

Time stretched. Five minutes. Ten. Fifteen.

Nothing.

He tried to get up. Tried to move on. Shower, go home, focus on recovery. But his mind stayed caught in the image of Will on the phone, the stiff way he stood. The way Macklin’s tone had dropped.

Finally, as William was stepping out of the shower, his phone buzzed on the bench.

Will.

Not right now, but it will be.

William exhaled slowly, fingers tightening around the phone.

He wanted that to be true. For her. For Will. For all of them.

But especially for Ella.

Because she didn’t deserve to keep waking up in that same aching silence, wondering why her love wasn’t enough. She didn’t deserve to give her light to someone who only cast shadows.

She deserved better.

And even if William couldn’t be the one to give her that—not yet—he could hope. Quietly. Fiercely.

He could wait for the moment she realized it, too.

⸻⸻⸻⸻⸻⸻

It was a rare off day for the Sharks—a quiet kind of gift in the chaos of the season. No practice, no team meetings, just open hours for rest and normalcy. Most of the younger guys had wandered over to Will and Macklin’s apartment again, lazily sprawled on the couch and floor with takeout boxes and sports reruns playing in the background.

Eventually, someone complained that it was too stuffy inside, and after a brief argument about who had to stand up first, the group decided on a walk. It was crisp but sunny outside, and they all figured a bit of fresh air would do them good.

William had waved them off, body half-buried in the couch cushions, utterly spent. His muscles ached from the grind of the week, and the idea of moving just to circle a park didn’t sound remotely appealing. He stayed back, letting the apartment go quiet around him.

It was peaceful.

Until a knock broke the stillness.

Not a loud one. Not urgent. Just... hesitant. Fragile.

He blinked, sat up slowly. Another knock. Fainter this time. Almost like the person behind it wasn’t sure they should be there at all.

He padded over to the door, yawning as he swung it open.

Ella.

And she looked like she had completely fallen apart.

Her hair was a mess, face blotchy and streaked from crying, eyes bloodshot, and her mouth quivered like she hadn’t stopped shaking since the moment she left. Her arms were wrapped tightly around her torso like she was trying to hold herself together with sheer will.

The second she saw him, her body sagged with the weight of it all, knees nearly giving out.

But then she blinked and realized it wasn’t Will.

"Oh," she whispered, stumbling back. Her voice was hoarse, nearly gone. "I’m sorry. I thought Will would be here. I shouldn’t have come—I’ll just—"

"Ella," William said firmly, stepping forward, catching her before she could slip away. "Come inside. Please."

She stood frozen for a moment, like her brain couldn’t process the invitation.

Then she broke.

Collapsed into him without another word, fists clutching at his hoodie like she was drowning and he was the last thing keeping her afloat.

She sobbed, hard and loud and aching, like every piece of her was shattering all over again.

"I can’t do it anymore," she cried, the words ripped straight from the deepest part of her chest. "I can’t. I can’t keep pretending. This isn’t love—this can’t be love."

William wrapped his arms around her and held her like she might vanish otherwise. Her body shook against his, and he didn’t say a word—there was nothing to say that wouldn’t fall short.

"I left," she gasped, choking between sobs. "I finally did it. I told him I was done. That I didn’t want to live like this anymore. And he just... let me. He didn’t fight for me. Didn’t ask me to stay. He barely looked at me."

The way she said it—like she was more devastated by his indifference than she ever had been by the pain—hit William like a punch to the chest.

She slid down onto the couch with him, curled into his side like it was the only safe place she had left.

"I gave him everything," she whispered, quieter now, voice brittle. "Every single part of me. And none of it was ever enough. I tried to be the kind of person he could love. I twisted myself inside out for him."

William felt a tear slip down his own cheek and blinked it away before she could see. He kept rubbing her back, his other hand gripping her shoulder like he could anchor her here.

"You didn’t deserve that," he said, almost too soft to hear. "Not even a little."

They stayed like that until her breathing steadied, until the storm inside her calmed just enough for her to lift her head.

Her face was pale, eyes dull, lips parted like she didn’t have the energy to speak anymore.

And William couldn’t take it.

"Come on," he said, his voice suddenly stronger. "Get your shoes."

She looked at him like he’d just spoken another language. "What?"

"We’re going out. You need air. And sugar."

She blinked, the smallest crease forming between her brows.

"You’re taking me to get ice cream?"

"Yup. My treat. And then we’re going somewhere quiet. You don’t have to do anything. Just exist for a while. Somewhere peaceful."

She didn’t argue. Didn’t smile, either. But she nodded.

Ten minutes later, they were in his car. She stared out the window in silence the whole drive, and William didn’t try to fill it. Not with words. Not with music. Just presence.

The little shop was quiet and tucked into the edge of a sleepy neighborhood. He ordered her favorite—he remembered from the night they all hung out, the way her eyes lit up when she mentioned cookie dough.

She didn’t even touch it at first. Just held the cup in her lap.

Until William took a bite of his, made an exaggerated, dramatic sound of delight, and she huffed out the tiniest breath that maybe, just maybe, could be considered a laugh.

It was enough.

They drove to the pier. The sun was dipping low now, casting long shadows over the water, painting the horizon in molten gold and soft lavender.

They sat at the edge, the waves crashing beneath them, and didn’t say anything for a while.

Then William spoke.

"You are... remarkable, Ella. You give and give and give, and you never ask for anything in return. You show up when people don’t deserve it. You fight for love when most people would’ve stopped trying. And that’s not weakness. That’s strength."

She sniffled but didn’t look away from the ocean.

"You deserved someone who tried just as hard. Who loved you with the same fire. Who made you feel safe and wanted and never questioned for a second if you were enough."

She looked at him then.

Her eyes were rimmed with red, lashes damp. But there was something else there too—just the faintest glint of hope. Of belief.

"You really think I deserve all that?"

William smiled, aching with how much he wanted to say yes a thousand times over. But he kept it simple.

"Yeah. I really do."

And for the first time all day, her lips curled up—not in a forced smile, but something real. Something slow and small, but alive.

He couldn’t tell her everything he felt. Not yet. Not now.

But watching that sliver of light return to her face?

It was enough.

For now.

⸻⸻⸻⸻⸻⸻

Ella’s healing didn’t happen all at once.

It came in fragments—quiet mornings, tears that didn’t feel like drowning, laughter that didn’t feel forced. It was slow. Uneven. Some days she woke up and remembered how to breathe. Other days, she stared at the ceiling and wondered if she’d ever feel like herself again.

But the one constant, the one steady thing in the midst of it all, was William.

He made it his mission—silently, selflessly—to remind her of what she deserved. Not with grand declarations or sweeping gestures, but in the way he showed up. Again and again and again.

Ella moved in with Will and Macklin for a few weeks while she figured out her next steps. Her name was still on the lease with Jack, but she hadn’t gone back. She couldn’t. Not after everything. The apartment felt haunted by all the things she had hoped for and never received.

So William went for her.

Without question, without hesitation, he drove to her old place, boxed up her life with careful hands. He folded her clothes gently, set aside the books she loved, and left behind the things that made her cry. He found a storage locker on the edge of town, paid for the first two months himself, and made sure she never had to step foot into that apartment again.

He brought her flowers. Simple ones. Daisies, sometimes tulips. Never roses—Jack always got her roses, the same bouquet every time, like a script he couldn’t be bothered to change. William wanted her to have something different. Something thoughtful. Something real.

He brought her chocolate on the nights she looked particularly quiet. He’d drop it in her lap and say nothing, just sit beside her and let the silence stretch until she wanted to fill it.

He watched cheesy rom-coms with her—Notting Hill, 10 Things I Hate About You, Love, Rosie. And when she cried, he didn’t flinch. Just passed her tissues and let her fall apart when she needed to.

He listened. And when she couldn’t speak, he waited—always offering her a shoulder to cry on, never flinching, never pulling away. Just holding space for her pain, as if it was the most natural thing in the world to do.

And never—not once—did he ask for anything in return.

Will and Macklin saw it all. Of course they did. It was happening right in their living room. At first, Will had been tense, wary. Protective. But it didn’t take long to realize that William’s intentions weren’t about hope or romance.

They were about love.

Not the kind that demanded something. The kind that gave.

Will would catch William standing at the stove, making Ella tea without being asked. Or quietly folding the blanket she always left on the couch. He’d hear William laugh at her jokes like they were the only thing keeping him upright.

Macklin had started joking that it felt like living inside a rom-com.

But even he couldn’t deny it—there was something undeniably wholesome about the way William cared for her.

It wasn’t just sweet. It was healing—because William was loving Ella in the way she had always deserved to be loved. Out loud. Without hesitation. For the whole world to see.

And Ella started to notice.

She started to smile more. To sit a little straighter. To laugh without catching herself.

One night, after William had fallen asleep on the couch beside her—head tilted back, mouth slightly open—she looked at him for a long time. Her heart ached, but not in the way it used to. It ached with the unfamiliar weight of being seen. Of being cherished.

She didn’t know what would happen next. She wasn’t ready for more. Not yet.

But for the first time in a long time, she believed there might actually be something after the pain.

And somehow, William had become her first step forward.

⸻⸻⸻⸻⸻⸻

It had been four months since Ella left Jack.

Four months since she stopped choosing pain over peace. Since she decided that her heart deserved more than what it had been given—more than silence, more than indifference, more than the ache of waiting for someone to meet her halfway.

And for four months, William had been there.

Always.

She didn’t think there was a single crack in her heart he hadn’t tended to. He never tried to fill the space too soon. Never tried to force the healing. He simply stayed, showing her over and over what it meant to be loved without conditions. And slowly, that love—quiet and constant—had stitched her back together.

Now, they were back at the pier.

The same one where, months ago, he had taken her to breathe again. To feel something other than heartbreak. The sun was dipping low, casting streaks of pink and tangerine across the ocean. The wind was soft, cool, curling around them like a whisper.

They sat on the same bench, side by side, their shoulders brushing every so often.

Ella watched the horizon, her thoughts tangled in the stillness between them.

She remembered the way William looked at her that night. Like she was fragile, but not broken. Like she was something beautiful that had just been hidden under too much weight.

And she thought about the little things—how he always made sure she had her favorite snacks in the pantry. How he never let her carry heavy boxes alone. How he laughed at her bad jokes like they were the best ones he’d ever heard.

Four months.

In four months, William had made her feel more seen, more safe, more loved than Jack had in three years.

And she wasn’t blind.

She had seen what he was doing. The way he’d leaned in but never crossed a line. The way his eyes lit up when she walked into a room. The way he never expected anything, even though he gave everything.

She hadn’t been ready before. Not to trust again. Not to risk what little she had rebuilt.

But now?

She looked at him.

Really looked.

He was watching the waves, calm as ever, one hand resting on the bench between them. And there was something in his profile—the way the light touched his cheek, the softness in his jaw—that made her heart ache all over again.

But this time, it was the good kind.

The kind that came with clarity.

"Let’s do this," she said quietly.

William turned to her slowly, confused. "Do what?"

Her eyes didn’t waver. "This. Us. I’m ready. For you."

He froze.

Completely still, like he needed to replay the words to make sure he heard them right.

"I’m ready," she said again, her voice a little steadier now. "For you. For us."

His eyes softened, and something unspoken passed between them—months of quiet devotion, of held-back feelings, of gentle love finally let loose.

He reached for her hand, his fingers threading through hers like they’d always been meant to fit.

He didn’t say anything right away. He didn’t need to.

His smile said it all.

So did the way he leaned forward and kissed her forehead, then rested his against hers.

She closed her eyes and breathed in the moment.

Because it wasn’t just a beginning.

It was finally finding home.

[camficdiner]

1.5 with an older gf, 2.19, 3.1, 4.3

My idea is that she's older, she's tall (not taller than Will though so maybe 5'10"), and she plays volleyball and the thing in his cubby is a picture of them together after one of her games where he surprised her, and the guys (Mack and Tyler mainly) chirp that she's older and tall, so he's pretty much looking for a babysitter (jokingly and out of love) but reader came to surprise him after practice and she overhears and Will finds her laughing to herself outside of the locker room. Lots of fluff! Sorry I went overboard! Love your writing!!!

☕️ cams fic diner — order 101

🍒 thank you, to the girls who are tall, strong, a little older, and still called baby. this one’s for the soft boys who adore you — chirps and all.

💬 “The Picture in His Locker”

✨ description & prompts:

- character: Will Smith

- prompt: 𝚑𝚎 𝚔𝚎𝚎𝚙𝚜 𝚜𝚘𝚖𝚎𝚝𝚑𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚘𝚏 𝚢𝚘𝚞𝚛𝚜 𝚒𝚗 𝚑𝚒𝚜 𝚕𝚘𝚌𝚔𝚎𝚛 𝚏𝚘𝚛 𝚐𝚘𝚘𝚍 𝚕𝚞𝚌𝚔 — 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚏𝚒𝚗𝚊𝚕𝚕𝚢 𝚏𝚒𝚗𝚍 𝚘𝚞𝚝

- type: fluff, soft love, teasing teammates

- wc: ~1.5k

🧁🍒🛼✨

You don’t usually come to the rink.

Not because you’re not welcome — Will’s made it painfully clear to the whole organization that you’re basically royalty in his book — but because your schedules rarely line up. You’ve got morning lifts and afternoon practices and evening games, and Will’s got—well. Hockey. And the chaos that comes with it.

But today?

Today, your away game ended early. The bus was faster than expected. You were already close to the rink. And maybe you missed him. Just a little.

So you pulled into the lot outside, grabbed a protein bar from your backpack, and followed the hallway you remembered from last time. You don’t go far — just outside the locker room tunnel, close enough to hear muffled voices. Close enough that when you hear your name, your steps stop completely.

“You know she’s like, older, right?” Macklin’s voice, bright and chirpy. “Like, grown. Paying bills. Filing taxes and shit.”

“I’m nineteen, not nine,” Will bites back — but he’s clearly grinning.

“Exactly,” Tyler cuts in. “You’re nineteen. She’s, what, mid-twenties? That’s a babysitter.”

Will groans. “Shut up.”

“And she’s tall as hell,” Mack adds. “Like, model tall. Volleyball tall. You standing next to her is like a puppy trying to play fetch with a giraffe.”

That one earns a chorus of laughter. You bite your lip.

“She’s got that hot older-woman energy,” Tyler says. “Like, walks into a room and owns it. And you—” He snorts. “You follow her around like you’re carrying her purse.”

Will’s voice is quieter this time. “I do not.”

Mack: “Dude, you keep a photo of her in your cubby.”

“Bro,” Tyler says. “It’s taped next to your tape.”

There’s a beat of silence. You can feel the embarrassment.

“It’s good luck,” Will mumbles.

“Oh, buddy,” Mack drawls. “You’re done. We’re gonna eat you alive for this.”

You press a hand to your mouth to stop the laugh from escaping. Your heart? Stupidly soft.

A few seconds later, the locker room door swings open.

Will’s hair is damp, curls still messy from his shower, t-shirt clinging to his chest, and when he sees you standing just outside, arms crossed and smile way too smug, he freezes.

“Shit.”

“Caught in 4K,” you grin.

“I hate everything.”

You lean against the wall, tilting your head. “Photo in the locker, huh?”

He groans, full-body, dramatic. “Please don’t start.”

You step toward him, arms slipping around his waist, the top of your head resting against his chest. “Do I really look like a giraffe?”

“Only when you spike volleyballs like you’re possessed.”

You snort. “So… yes?”

Will’s arms curl around you slowly, like muscle memory. “You look like the girl I get to go home with. The one I’m proud of. The one I talk about all the time. So yeah. I keep a photo of you in my locker. And yeah, they chirp me for it. But I don’t really care.”

Your smile softens. “You’re kind of a sap.”

“You’re kind of my whole world,” he shrugs.

You blink up at him.

Will blinks back, face a little pink, eyes very, very honest.

You lean up and kiss him. Quick, soft, easy. Then lace your fingers with his and pull him toward the exit.

“Come on, simp,” you say. “I’ll buy you a smoothie and protect you from the bullies.”

Will grins like he’s won gold.

And when you reach his car and drop your bag in the back, you catch a glimpse of it — tucked inside his locker, corner barely sticking out under his spare gloves. The photo. Of you two after your last match. Him holding you, jersey still damp, that exact look in his eyes even back then.

Like he knew.

Like he knows.

[sincerelywhistler]

Random Redacted Headcanons

Life’s been busy so take these in place of my usual content~

• Vincent uses a water pick to brush his teeth

• Cam gets extremely car sick :/

• William has a handful of unpublished books he’s written over the years, mostly dark fantasies

• David was an IVF baby. Mama Shaw had a handful of complications during her pregnancy, so they were happy to be a one and done family. That baby was so, so loved and welcomed… and expensive lol

• Morgan has always wanted to slow dance with somebody in the kitchen like a total sap

• Porter travels abroad solo often. He’s confident in his skills to navigate foreign countries and has learned all the useful tips and tricks to make the most of his time

• Huxley very enthusiastically participates in the rubber duck on the Jeep dashboard bit, and if he’s honest it was half of the appeal of owning a Jeep in the first place

• Asher has lost just about every tube of chapstick he’s ever bought

• Alexis still keeps her mother’s old wedding dress in a fancy box tucked far away into her attic. Frustratingly, she often found herself daydreaming about wearing it when she and Sam were something of an item. She’d shake the thoughts away as fast as they snuck up on her (sorry)

• Vega thinks that his eyes are genuinely so beautiful and unique, and he thinks that they’re his best visual feature, even above any muscle or height

• Ollie really wants a moped. Baby blue. And one day, it’ll be the coolest thing he’s ever owned. Just you wait.

[luxurychristmaspudding]

FUTUREPROOF | Masterlist

joel miller x f!reader

summary: joel miller can't remember the last time he was starstruck. so it takes him by surprise to be lost for words in front of you. with his daughters begging him to at least take a picture with the hottest rockstar in town, joel gives you your first real glimmer of warmth since your move to la. what follows is an unlikely friendship, the talk of the tabloids. but what if there's truth behind the rumours? how long can a secret stay secret, and how long until you're forced to leave each other alone?

pairing: rockstar!reader x country star!joel

ratings/warnings: 18+, MDNI. joel gets both his daughters bc i'm a sap :) unspecified age gap (i guess joel is in his 40s and reader late 20s? but have at it!). check individual chapters for warnings, but there will be: drinking, swearing, pining, idiots in love, bad friends, LOTS of smut, joel miller's whore mouth, angst, drug talk, and plenty of glitz and glam.

reader has hair and is generally able bodied, but is otherwise undescribed.

an: for my real life rockstars, who i am eternally grateful to call my friends and have hold my hands. i love you.

prologue - mdb

part i - diamonds and pearls

part ii - comfortable

part iii - censor

part iv - satisfied

part v - tempt you

part vi - parachute

part vii - tourniquet

part viii - foreign language

part ix - thinkin' bout you

part x - i forgot to be your lover

extras

MEET COPILOT

-> ADIE GILMAN -> CAM ROBERTSON -> JACK ETZLER -> VIC WALKER

moodboard

*chapters may change*

follow @pudding-notifs for updates!

[streamafterlaughter]

Fundamental Differing

Chapter XXVI: So Soft, You Make Me Hard

masterlist | playlist | prev. | pin

summary: it finally starts to feel like a vacation

tags: SMUT minors DO NOT INTERACT! unprotected p in v, vulgar language, adult content, slight angst, mostly fluff, weed and cigarette usage.

a/n: hey........ remember this one? lol. hope y'all still have a little interest bc it's ALMOST OVER! just a few more chapters to go of the Fundamental Differing universe, such as bittersweet feeling. Hope you enjoy!

taglist (closed): @children-of-the-grave @five-bi-five @wiildflower-xxx @beebeerockknot @champagne-glamour @xxgothwhorexx @therensistance @chonkzombie @brxkenartt @sidthedollface2 @bibieddiesgf @gaysludge @eddiesguitarskills @lilpotatobean2 @poisonedluv @kellsck @m-chmcl-rmnc

DISCLAIMER: I do not consent to having my work fed to AI engines, or reposted in any way, shape, or form on other websites. Unless otherwise stated, this is the only account that features and contains this work, and any replication was done without my consent. Please let me know if you see my work elsewhere. Reblog to support the author!

-- Your POV

It had barely taken a week for the tabloids to run the story: Rockstars can be Softies Too! Corroded Coffin frontman spotted snuggling up to Death Dance Approximately vocalist. Sources close to the star say they’ve been close since the beginning of their joint tour. 

You snort as you toss the Newsweek paper on your kitchen table for Eddie to see. The picture, of course, was staged by you and Eddie: Him in Ozzy-esque sunglasses, hair tied back, in regular clothing wrapped around you, an iced coffee in his free hand. You’re in jeans and Corroded Coffin t-shirt, snuggled into Eddie’s embrace as you sip on your own drink, a toothy smile on your face. You’d called Ralphie, a paparazzo in Boston that you’d grown close to, to break the story. He was more than happy to do it, knowing these photos would likely pay his rent for the foreseeable future.

“Think they’ll buy it?” Eddie muses, sipping his coffee.

“What’s to buy? It’s true. Maybe a bit exaggerated, but that’s just Hollywood.” You shrug, flipping the pancake on the griddle. “Chocolate chips?”

Eddie nods, rising from his seat to wrap his arms around your waist. “I need this tour to be over. I prefer waking up in a stationary bed.”

“Mmm,” You make a sound of agreement, resting your head on his as comfortably as you can without leaving the stove. “Only a couple more weeks and we’re home free.”

“Where is home, exactly?”

You don’t miss a beat. “Wherever, as long as it’s with you.”

He snorts. “Such a sap.”

“Huh, wonder who made me this way.” You giggle, poking his cheek. “You think we can put this whole thing to bed now?” You study the magazine article, rolling your eyes at their word choice: scruffy, angsty, disheveled. 

“Maybe, but there’s something else I wanna put to bed instead.” He waggles his eyebrows at you. Pretending not to squirm at his flirting, you rise from your seat at the table, clearing his empty plate and your own. 

“Though I am absolutely picking up what you’re putting down, I have shit to do today.”

He pouts, batting his big, brown eyes at you. “What could possibly be more important?”

–

“This fuckin’ sucks.” Eddie kicks the gravel from the sidewalk outside the mechanic. “I didn’t even know you still had a car.”

You shrug. “I like to keep my life outside of being a rockstar pretty normal. Unfortunately that includes taking my dad’s car in for routine maintenance.”

“I coulda taken a look for him, yknow?”

“Psh, right. Ask the rockstar to change the oil in my dad’s camaro.” “My life is not too glamorous to do my favorite person a favor.” There’s no humor in his tone, he genuinely wouldn’t mind getting his hands dirty for you. 

“While I appreciate that, my dad would never let anyone besides Theo and himself touch that thing. You know how many times I begged him to let me take it out?”

Eddie snorts. “I remember. And the one time he finally let you, it came back with the tiniest scratch and he’d grounded you for a month.”

“Theo was the one to fix it, and the one to talk him out of a harsher punishment.”

“And despite already being eighteen, you didn’t go out at all that entire month.”

You frown, because he’s right. “God, I’m such a fake punk!”

“Yeah. Total poser.” He shoves your shoulder playfully.

“Well, she’s all set, kid.” Theo strolls up to where you and Eddie are talking, wiping his hands on a stained rag.

“Thanks, Theo.” You fork a handful of cash in his direction. 

“No biggie. Anything for the biggest Boston rockstah I know. And I know a few, ya know, Steven Tyla…” He definitely doesn’t know Steven Tyler, but you’d seen him at a couple parties. 

“Yeah, for sure.” 

“Before ya go, though. Would yas mind signin’ somethin’ for my kids? They’a huge fans. Daughta can’t get enough o’ya.”

“‘Course, sir!” Eddie beams at the recognition, and your heart skips. He really is still living a dream. You nod in agreement, and Theo pulls out a receipt book that he hands you, along with the pen behind his ear. You sign the top corner, 

Thanks for listening, hope to see ya at the gig! and scribble your signature before passing it to Eddie. You peek over his shoulder and watch him scribble,

Keep rock n roll alive! and his big, blocky EDDIE. “How old are your kids?” Eddie looks up, meeting Theo’s eyes. 

“Eighteen and twenty.”

“Do they wanna come see us? We have a show here in about a month.” 

“Seriously?” Theo’s eyes light up, and you can't help but be awed by Eddie’s gesture. 

“You can too, if you want! I dunno if you listen to that type of music, but…”

“You can't tell my kids, but I'm actually a really big fan of both you guys’ stuff.” He lights up as he says it, and it makes you teary. You’re not sure you’ll ever get used to this part, the effect you can have on other, real people. 

“Your secret’s safe with us, man.” Eddie offers out his hand, which Theo shakes enthusiastically. “We’ll see ya!”

—

Eddie’s POV

“That was a really nice thing to offer.” You nudge him, approaching the door to your parents’ house. 

Eddie shrugs off his vest and lays it over the arm of your couch. “Least I could do. We should probably let Steve know to add three to the guest list. You get his kids’ names?”

“Shit. No, but I can ask my dad.”

He nods, still standing awkwardly in the middle of your living room. “Well, uh. What else did you need to do today?” He can’t see what else needs to be done. You’d gone grocery shopping yesterday, and your parents’ place is pretty set for the week. He remembers trailing behind you: dressed in sinfully short shorts and white tank top while he managed to sweat in the freezer section, even if only in a tank top himself.

 The house is clean— with the help of your parents, but mostly because you’ve been anxiously cleaning since this morning. He had tried to help, but ultimately had to excuse himself when you bent over the kitchen counter to wipe it down. 

He wants to touch you. It’s driving him fucking crazy, he hasn’t been able to. He’s starting to feel like maybe you’re avoiding him, though you’ve given no indication that you’re not interested in having sex with him again. His brain is just telling him that. He hopes. 

Even right now, in a sundress and sneakers, he wishes he could bring himself to take you to the alley behind the mechanic’s. But neither of you have made a move. Eddie’s not even sure he’s entitled to. Everything has been on your terms, and he hasn’t had a problem with it. He owes you that, right?

You glance at your watch and shrug. “Dad’s doing an overnight, and my mom’s away on some business trip as of this morning.” 

“Are you implying what I think you are?” He focuses on the wall behind you to keep his pants from tightening.

“Horror movie marathon? Like old times?” If it weren’t for the hope in your voice, he’d accuse you of being cruel.

So he meets your eyes again and stretches his smile as wide as it’ll go. “Of course, sweetheart.”

—

You’re trying to kill him. You must be trying to fucking kill him.

“Whipped cream?” You offer out the can with a mouthful, a bit of cream landing on his cheek. Fighting the urge to use your outstretched arm to pull you into him, Eddie opens his mouth without breaking eye contact. Two can play this fuckin’ game, he thinks. Unfortunately the giggle that slips through your lips makes his knees wobble. 

“So, I have plenty of movies to choose from. Never brought ‘em when I moved out, guess they kept them all safe for me.” You glide over to the crates of tapes next to your television, neatly organized with their titles facing outward. “You in the mood for something really scary first, or something more along the lines of a horror-comedy?”

He’s in the mood for you, truthfully. The short cotton shorts and camisole you’re wearing aren’t helping that, either. “Ed?”

“Hm? Oh, uh, either one’s fine.” 

You raise an eyebrow at him, and through his flushing cheeks he manages to smile back. Through gritted teeth, albeit. 

“You’re being weird.”

“Am not. What about Possession?” An attempt to dodge the subject. 

You seem to let the subject slide, plucking the tape from its case. “Possession it is.” 

The TV yawns to life, and you place the tape into the player, making sure it's been rewound before pressing play. 

“You gonna sit with me, or are you gonna keep being weird?” He rolls his eyes, collapsing on the opposite side of where you are. “Got it.” 

Half of the movie is spent like that, Eddie resisting the nagging voice in the back of his head, begging him to tug you by your ankle onto his lap. You seem blissfully unaware of his internal crisis, munching on microwave popcorn as the TV illuminates the frightened expression on your pretty face. You retreat under the blanket when the scene before you gets to be too much, and for some reason it springs Eddie into action. He crawls from his side of the couch slowly, doing his best not to spook you, and curls his body into your blanket covered form.

“Hello?”

“Hi.”

“Whatcha doin’?”

“Protecting you from the scary movie.”

“My knight in shining armor.” Your body shakes with laughter, and he joins you. When you stop, you start flailing under the blanket, causing Eddie to release you so you can shove the cloth off your head. You inhale the fresh air deeply before once again descending into a fit of giggles.

“I think we’re safe now.” Eddie looks around dramatically, curly flying on either side of his face. 

“Thanks for rescuing me.” You crane your neck up to reach his cheek, placing a tender kiss against his hot skin. “However shall I repay such a noble act?”

Eddie groans under the heat of your breath against his cheek. “You’re killin’ me, doll.”

“Oh?”

“Gonna make me bust in my pants like a fuckin’ teenager.”

–

Your POV

His words propel you into action, quickly moving to straddle his lap, clad only in a pair of gray sweatpants. You can feel his length underneath you, twitching when you make the gentlest of contact. “And here I thought you didn’t wanna fuck me.” 

“What?” Eddie halts the beginning of your movement, grasping your hips to keep you in place. “What god awful crime could I have committed in the last week to make you think such a terrible thing?” He looks at you with a pout, his eyes dark with want, or maybe hurt. 

“It’s what you didn’t do, actually. I was walkin’ around the house in my underwear, Ed! And don’t even get me started on the shorts I wore to the grocery store.”

“You don’t have to remind me.” His breath is labored, like he’s just run a marathon. You grind your hips forward experimentally, and he whimpers in response. “Fuck, I’m sorry. Jus’ wasn’t sure it was the ri- fuck– right time, y’know?” Your grinding has become more consistent, still slow as the clothed tip of his cock prods teasingly against your throbbing clit.

“Mmm, such a gentleman all of a sudden?” You tease, making sure each word is barely audible, said so closely that each of your breaths tickles the fine hairs of his ear canal. “Where’s the spoiled rockstar that takes whatever he wants, whenever he wants, hm?” You’re being mean, but Eddie squirming and panting underneath you spurs you on. “You just gonna let me tease you like that while you mope because you can't touch me? Because it would be, what? Wrong? You’ve never cared about that shit before.”

“Didn’t wanna ruin anything, didn’t want you gettin’ the idea that I–” He stops short.

“Finish your sentence.” It’s a command. You don’t usually take the dominant role over Eddie in these situations, but you don’t hate the way it’s making you feel.

“Didn’t want you thinkin’ I oh- only wanted sex..” His voice is raspy with want, with need, for you, and you’ve never been good at denying him of it.

“But you do, right? You want sex?”

“I want your trust first.” His eyes bore into you as he says it. 

“Eddie,” You sigh, breaking character to caress his sweaty, flushed face. “You have my trust.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah. I would’ve kicked you out by now if you didn’t.” Eddie throws his head back to laugh, but it comes out strangled when you grind down on his lap again. “So, now that that’s out of the way…” Before you can finish the thought, Eddie lurches forward, one hand to the back of your neck as the other wraps around your waist, bringing your body closer to his as your lips meet. Your tongue slips sweetly into his waiting mouth, coaxing a groan from his throat that you feel between your legs. 

The movie playing behind you is long forgotten, now white noise as Eddie slips the strap of your tank top down your arm, calloused fingers gliding over your soft skin. Despite your earlier candidness, he’s being slow. Gentle. Almost cautious. In a way, it feels like revenge for the way you’d been teasing him, and you can’t help but relish the way it works you up. 

Eddie finally breaks your kiss, giving you time to breathe while he sloppily mouths your throat, eagerly adding teeth when you roll your hips forward again. His hands have a mind of their own, tugging at the fabric of your tank top until it's bunched at your waist, exposing your chest to the warmth of Eddie’s hot, panting breaths. At this point you’re practically riding his lap, begging for friction as he takes his time with you, like he’s memorizing every inch. 

“Ed, please,” Your voice is strained, broken and shameless.

“What do you need, baby?” He coos, sending you into a tizzy. 

“Need you to touch me.”

“I am touchin’ you, sweetheart.” He runs his finger down your arm with a feather light touch, barely registering over the way your entire body is vibrating. 

“You know what I mean.” You’re pouting, getting desperate. “Thought you wanted to.”

“Hey,” His eyes darken as he stills the rocking of your hips with firm hands. “I want to. But what’s the rush, huh? We’ve got so much time now. All night, even.” His voice holds an air of mischief, and you’re putty in his hands. 

“You gonna tease me like this all night? You don’t have the willpower.” You wriggle in his grasp for emphasis, and he muffles his groan with gritted teeth. You cross your arms over your bare chest, huffing smugly. “At least take your shirt off?”

–

Eddie’s POV

He can’t resist the way you ask, pleading with him to give you something. Eagerly he complies, yanking his shirt over his head and tossing it lacklusterly aside somewhere in your living room. “Get that later.” He laughs breathily, and you lunge at him. Before he can adjust to your weight, your teeth have sunken into his neck, contrasting with the plush of your lips placing wet kisses along the column of his throat. Your tongue soothes over the sore marks your teeth have left indented in his skin, branding him as yours. He finds himself excited for the next time he’ll go out in public, wearing the hickies you’ve given him like designer accessories. 

“You wanna go upstairs?” You mumble the question between placing chaste kisses on his shoulder. 

“I dunno, I’m kinda set on the idea of you riding me on the couch.” 

“Eddie, this is my parents’ house.”

“I’ll buy them a new couch.” Before you can argue, he pulls you forward by the neck, his lips slotting into your like puzzle pieces. You seem to give in, letting him win the argument. He can get a couch here by tomorrow if he has to.

–

Your POV

You readjust, sliding the tank top and your shorts quickly from your body, tossing them over the arm of the sofa before claiming your former position, this time with less layers between your throbbing clit and the tip of his leaking cock. 

Before you can work him up too much more, Eddie’s hands are sliding down your form, stopping to lightly twist and pinch at your nipples, chuckling at the way you whine and mewl for him. Replacing one hand with his mouth, Eddie then slips his free fingers to the waistband of your panties, snapping them once and causing you to jump before dipping lower to gather your slick before rubbing agonizing circles on your clit. 

“Jesus, angel, you’re fuckin’ soaked.” His pupils are blown as you’re sure your own are, looking at you with a lovely mixture of lust and love. 

“What can I say, you do it f’me.” You aren’t trying to be sexy, it’s the truth. Eddie doesn’t have to do much to turn you on.

“Feeling’s mutual, doll. Gettin’ me all hot ‘n bothered.” His breath is labored as he speaks, and you can feel his heart racing as you press yourself further into his chest. “Need to be inside you, love. Don’t think I can take much more teasing.” You can’t resist his desperation. You move quickly, letting him shove his sweatpants, now with a damp spot staining the crotch, and his boxers to the ground. His cock springs free from the confines and slaps against his stomach, precum dampening the coarse hair of his happy trail. You lick your lips absentmindedly, and before you can drop to your knees in front of him, Eddie grabs your wrist, pulling you back into his lap. 

“Wait, Ed I’m still– oh, f-fuck.” Eddie drags the tip of his dick against the damp cloth of your panties, causing a sensation that ripples through your core. 

“You gonna say somethin’?” He’s taken control, stroking himself against your hole, fabric doing nothing to cease the waves of pleasure crashing through you. “Use your words, baby.” He’s chiding, condescending as you can only whine in response, the heat between your legs seemingly cutting off the communication between your brain and your tongue. “Tell me what you want, can’t read your mind.”

“Need you to fuck me, baby, please.” The words fall out without decorum, desperate and high pitched like you’re being tortured. 

“That wasn’t so hard, was it? Such a good job.” Relief floods your senses when he pulls your panties to the side, sliding himself easily into your drenched hole. You both moan at the feeling, your walls clenching around his thick cock, his grip a vice on either side of you, not yet ready to let you move. You can only shake your head, too cock drunk to form a coherent sentence. Usually, he’d scold you for not speaking, make it harder for you to get off, but you can tell he’s just as desperate to fuck you, possibly even more than you are. “Need you to move.” He tries to keep his voice even, but you can hear it’s close to breaking, begging. You obey, rocking your hips, rolling forward, each movement accompanied by his own, the head of his dick pressing against the sweet spot inside you each time.

“Feels so good, darlin’, takin’ me s- so well.” He knows you value his praise, regardless of how difficult it is to give it between labored breaths. 

“Missed you, Ed.” You sigh the words, brain too fuzzy to muster up the strength to properly speak to him. 

“I missed you, baby.” Eddie’s head falls into the crook of your neck, kissing the marks he’d previously left on your throat while you continue to ride him. “Not gonna last much longer. Need you to cum for me. Please, I need you to cum.” His fingers find your clit without struggle, like he’s memorized the map of your body. He makes tight, quick circles on your clit as he continues thrusting inside of you, and your walls clench more tightly around him as you feel your orgasm climbing. Finally, as Eddie has pulled your face into his, crashing your lips together as his hand and hips stay moving, you fall apart on top of him, legs shaking on either side of his lap as he watches you ride it out, mesmerized by the look of you; sweaty, panting, bouncing on top of him. You’re still shuddering when Eddie lets go, head buried in your neck as his thrusts lose rhythm and grow eager, no longer worried about getting you off. His noises are guttural, coming from the deep recesses of his body. He spills his load inside you, his cum painting your walls as he mutters sweet nothings: “Fuck, shit, you’re perfect, missed this pussy so much, like it’s made for me, ‘s all mine, mine, mine…”

When he’s emptied himself, body heaving with each breath, Eddie lifts you off of his lap, both of you wincing as he slowly pulls out. “Shit!” You fall into a fit of giggles as your bare butt falls onto the couch next to him, suddenly shy about being naked in front of him. He joins you, cackling as you wipe the sweat from your brow with an exaggerated “Phew!” 

“Why weren’t we doin’ that all week?” He says through laughter, and you shrug. 

“Probably because other people live here?”

“Ugh, what a bummer.” He reaches over to the cigarette pack on the side table. “You wanna smoke?”

[oensible]

"You asked and we’re getting your answers! 👊 Thanks for your questions #SJSharks fans. We’ll see you tomorrow at Fan Appreciation Night presented by @/SAP." —San Jose Sharks/X (2025 Apr 4)

[Video description: San Jose Sharks digital/in arena host Emily Harlan asks a few Sharks players in 1-on-1 interviews on various fan-submitted questions. Video has dialogue captions at the bottom of the frame.

Full transcript under the cut.

HARLAN: (smiling as she introduces the video) Hey, Sharks fans! We're here at Sharks Ice asking your questions to some of your favorite Sharks players. Let's check it out.

Transition to Harlan speaking with Noah Gregor.

HARLAN: Okay, Trevor wants to know: if a fan wanted to negotiate trading a snack for a puck, what would your snack of choice be?

GREGOR: My snack of choice would be any, like, sour gummies.

HARLAN: Okay.

GREGOR: So, like, Fuzzy Peaches...

HARLAN: (confused) Fuzzy Peaches? What is that?

GREGOR: Oh, they may not have those here. (Harlan laughs.) Uh... (he rubs the back of his neck) They're like the Maynard's... (he gestures with his hand to indicate a small round object)

HARLAN: Okay.

GREGOR: They're kind of like Sour Patch Kids...

HARLAN: Okay.

GREGOR: ...but peach-flavored. So it's, yeah, Sour Patch Kids.

Transition to Harlan speaking with Lucas Carlsson.

CARLSSON: Ehh, Snickers bar.

HARLAN: Snickers? (Overlapping: He says 'yeah' to confirm.) Yeah. Okay. That's a good one.

Transition to Harlan speaking with Cam Lund.

LUND: My snack of choice would probably be Welch's.

Transition to Harlan speaking with William Eklund.

EKLUND: Probably my Swedish candy. (NOTE: See his hot take video response (transcript) and team photo day comments (transcript).)

HARLAN: Yeah?

EKLUND: That's probably the way to go. (he smiles)

HARLAN: (laughing) Okay, good to know.

Transition to Harlan speaking with Macklin Celebrini.

HARLAN: Joe wants to know: if you could pick a celebrity to coach the team for a day, who would you pick?

CELEBRINI: Probably Drake.

HARLAN: Drake. Okay.

Transition to Harlan speaking with Lucas Carlsson.

CARLSSON: Will Ferrell.

HARLAN: Yeah? (Overlapping: Carlsson says 'yeah' to confirm.) He'd be joking around.

CARLSSON: Yeah. (they both laugh)

HARLAN: You'd be laughing a lot; maybe not get anything done, okay.

CARLSSON: Yeah.

Transition to Harlan speaking with Noah Gregor.

HARLAN: A fan asked: would your 12-year-old self think that you are cool... right now?

GREGOR: (smiling) Oh, he'd think I'm the coolest guy ever.

HARLAN: (excited) Yeah?

GREGOR: Oh, yeah. (Harlan laughs) It's... my dream to play in the NHL, so he'd be pretty happy.

HARLAN: (pointing to Gregor) Do you think you're cool?

GREGOR: (shaking his head, decisively) No.

Transition to Harlan speaking with Lucas Carlsson.

HARLAN: A fan wants to know: would your 12-year-old self think that you were cool right now?

CARLSSON: (nodding) Yeah.

HARLAN: Yeah?

CARLSSON: Yeah. (he smiles)

HARLAN: (pointing to Carlsson) Do you think you're cool right now?

CARLSSON: (nodding again) Yeah.

HARLAN: Yeah, okay I like it! (both glance over to the camera and laugh)

Transition to Harlan speaking with William Eklund.

EKLUND: (after a brief moment of thinking) Yeah. I think so.

HARLAN: Yeah?

EKLUND: Uh, I would hope so, at least. (emphasizing the 'hope')

HARLAN: (laughs, then points to Eklund) Do you think you're cool right now?

EKLUND: (pauses for a moment, then answer with a laugh) No! (Harlan laughs) I think my 12-year-old, uh, myself would think so, though.

HARLAN: Okay.

Transition to Harlan speaking with Macklin Celebrini.

HARLAN: We gotta ask about the sleepover as well. (NOTE: These details and more can be found on the Never Offside podcast episode ft. Tyler Toffoli (transcript))

CELEBRINI: Yeah.

HARLAN: Fans want to know, who took that photo of you guys?

CELEBRINI: (laughing slightly) Mar did.

HARLAN: (eyebrows raising as if slightly surprised) Yeah? He decided he didn't wanna sleep over?

CELEBRINI: No, he couldn't. We tried to bring another cot up but they wouldn't let us.

HARLAN: (laughing) Okay. Okay.

Transition to Harlan closing out the video.

HARLAN: We'll see you at the Tank for Fan Appreciation Night on April 5th; go, Sharks!

She smiles and the video ends.]

[purplesimmer455]

Piper and Cam spend their next two university free days in a bliss of woohoo, and meeting up with their friends and family. Saturday, they head to Nordhaven's Gammelvik neighborhood just to explore. They take a historic tour at a Cathedral*, and Piper holds Cam's hand as they follow the guide throughout the cathedral. She sneaks peeks at Cam's profile as she takes in what the guide says, hoping that their future kids might look as gorgeous and handsome as Cam does, and blushes when Cam catches her looking and starts to lovingly tease her.

After that, they walk over to the munch and mingle festival, where sims are setting up a grill and picnic tables in the square. Piper spots her auntie and goes to talk to her, while Cam runs into her dad, whose eyes light up as soon as he sees her. "Cuddlebug, I've missed you so much," he says in his cheerfully rumbly voice, and Cam can't help but smile. "I missed you and amma too, but I'm too old to be called cuddlebug." She says as her dad wraps her in a bear hug. "Nonsense, you'll always be me and umma's cuddlebug." Min Jun says firmly, and Cam grins, hugging her dad back tightly.

They pull away, and Min Jun follows Cam to the grill as she decides to cook up some fruit cobbler. "So, how is post college life?" He asks. "Good, I have a week off and Pipes won't start her job at the gallery til next Tuesday, so we're just spending some time together." Cam says, biting her lip. "Everything okay, nooboo?" He asks. "Appa, I just don't know if engineering is what I want anymore. I didn't want to disappoint you or umma." She adds

Min Jun's eyebrows knit in concern, and he nods. "Oh Cammy, your umma and I just want you to be happy. We'd never be disappointed because you aren't interested in engineering anymore." He says gently, and Cam nods, feeling sheepish. "Did you talk to Pipes?" He asks, and Cam smiles. "Yeah, she's okay with whatever I want to do and says with her job she can support us both, but I'm still going to keep working at the firm in the meantime and figure out what I want," she says softly. "That's a good plan, and I know I've said it a hundred times, but I'm so proud of you, Cam. I still remember you being 5 years old and wanting to help umma build things and holding tools or screws for her while she fixed things, and now you've graduated from college and you're starting your own life with Piper," He says, and Cam grins. "Dad, don't be such a ball of sap." She says, and Min Jun grins too. "But thanks," she adds, and Min Jun nods, leaning in to kiss her forehead.

[hataysekshikayelerisblog]

Teyze Kızının Eltisi! (2) (Murat 45 Y., Aydın)

Aylarca Hale'yi sikmek için Aydın'a gidip geldim. Gidemediğim zamanlarda da telefonda ya yazışarak ya da konuşarak boşalıyorduk. Nisan ayının ilk haftasında Hale Kuşadası'ndaki yazlıklarına geldi. Ekim ayına kadar Hale yazlıkta tek başına kalıyor, Ayhan sadece hafta sonları, çocuklar ise 2 ya da 3 haftada bir yanına geliyorlardı. Bana, "Bir gece gelip kalmanı istiyorum, rakı içip, sevişmek istiyorum!" dediğinde, karıma, Pazartesi İstanbul'da fuara gideceğimi söyleyip, öğlen vakti elimdeki paketlerle gittim. Arabayı oturdukları siteden 100 metre öteye bıraktım, ama telefonla beni yönlendiriyordu. Site komşularına görünmeden girmem gerekiyordu. "Şuraya sap... patikadan geç... şimdi şu yola sap..." derken, yarım saatte zor girdim içeri, arka bahçeye açılan sürgülü cam kapıdan.

Sadece plaj elbisesi vardı üzerinde. İçinde bir şey olmadığını, "Çok özledim!" diyerek sarıldığında yumuşacık göğüslerinden anladım. Elimi kalçalarına atıp avuçladım. "Kalacaksın ha, offf ne zamandır hayal ediyordum!" dedi. Elimdeki paketi görünce, "Ne getirdin?" dedi. "Sürprizim var, ama sonra!" dedim. Gelirken bir tane Cial*s alıp yutmuştum, etkisini gösterdi hemen. "Yatak odası nerde?" dedim elimden tutup götürdü. Soyunurken, "Akşam sikti mi Ayhan?" dedim. "Hı hı sikti, sabah kalkınca da sikmek istedi, ama sen geleceksin diye bir an önce yolladım!" dedi. "Hımm, özledin yani yarağımı?" dedim. "Hem de çok!" deyip yarağımı ağzına aldı. "Açayım mı perdeleri?" dedim gülerek. "Manyaklaşma! dedi.

Evlerin arası uzaktı, her evin 4 tarafı en az 20'şer metrelik bahçelerle çevriliydi. "Kalk, kalın perdeyi aç sadece, tül kalsın!" dedim. "Ciddi misin hayatım, gören olur!" dedi. "Görmezler!" dedim. Kalkıp açtı istemsizce. Yastığı yükseltip yarı oturur pozisyonda kucağıma oturttum. Bu sayede ben de dışarıyı görebiliyordum. Amcığına aldığında sanki akşam kocasıyla sikişen o değilmiş gibi derin bir, "Ohhhh!" çekti. Oturup kalkarken parmağımı arka deliğine soktum. "Ohhhh, yazlıkta perde açık, hem amım sikiliyor hem götümmm, ohhhh, sik aşkım, doyur deliklerimi!" diye inliyordu. Gözü sürekli dışarıdaydı. İlk başta yoldan geçenler veya kumsala gidenler olduğunda duruyordu. Dikkatimi bir şey çekti. 18-19 yaşlarında bir genç 10 dakikada 3 kez geçti, hem de ev tarafına bakarak. O geçerken Hale daha isterik şekilde oturup kalkıyordu. Başkaları geçerken görmesinler diye duruyordu.

Çocuğu görebiliyordum. Çapraz evin verandasına oturmuş, bu tarafa bakıp sigara içiyordu. Hale'nin hafif çapraz arkasında kaldığından, direk bakamasa da kafasını sallıyor gibi yapıp arkaya çocuğa doğru baktığını görebiliyordum. "Kim o?" dedim. "Kim kim?" dedi. "Şu genç!" dedim çenemle işaret edip. "Haa o mu? Mustafa, komşunun oğlu, elimizde büyüdü!" dedi kucağımda zıplamasını yavaşlatıp. Amcığını yarağıma sürter gibi kıvırıyordu. "Sürekli buraya bakıyor!" dedim. "Markete falan giderken her gün uğrar 2 yıldır, biraz tuhaf ama sürekli gözü burda!" dedi. Nerdeyse durmuştuk. Çok yavaş hareket ediyorduk. "Ergen çocuk seni sikmeyi hayal ediyordur!" dedim. "Sanırım, ama utandığından yanaşamıyor!" dedi. "Gösterip azdırıyor musun kız yoksa?" dedim. "Daha önce yapmazdım, ama bu yıl!" dedi.

Yavaş yavaş hızlanıyordu. "Senle sikişmeye başlayalı, beni iyice azgın yaptın, geçen sahilde seninle yazışırken pembe bikinim vardı üzerimde..." dedi. "Eeee, anlat ne orospuluklar yaptın?" dedim. Daha da hızlanıp, "Ohhhh! Şezlongda dalmışım, bacaklarımı aralamışım, güneş gözlüğümün altından baktım, denize beline kadar girmiş, amcığıma bakıyor, bir ara elimi attım ıslaklığım dışarı vurmuş amımın olduğu yer ıslak, o da direk oraya bakıyor, sen de habire yazıyorsun şöyle sikecem böyle sikecem diye, sularımı da tutamıyorum, baktım olacak gibi değil çok yanmışım gibi havluyu örttüm üzerime!" dedi. "Ohhhh orospum benim, siktirseydin bari!" dedim. "Ohhhh, siktirsem mi?" dedi. Bu sözlerden sonra ikimiz de deliler gibi boşaldık...

İçeriye geçtik. Tam kahve yaparken verandadan çocuğun sesi geldi, "Hale abla markete gidiyorum, bir şey lazım mı?" diye. Hale plaj elbisesini üzerine geçirip kapıyı açtı. Ben salon tarafında olduğum için kapıdan görünmüyordum. "Mustafa sana zahmet bir ekmek alır mısın?" deyip çocuğa arkasını döndü. Kapının yanındaki portmantoya uzandı. Benim olduğum yerden gördüğüm, resmen baldırlarının üst kısmına kadar sıyrıldı plaj elbisesi, biraz da oyalandı para çıkarma bahanesiyle. Çocuk gidince geldi yanıma oturdu. "Sen hergün cüzdandan böyle para veriyorsan, çocuk günde 10 kere bakkala gidiyordur herhalde!" dedim. "Gördün mü showumu?" dedi. Zaten sütyensiz göğüslerinin uçları elbiseden fırlıyordu.

"Bazen çamaşırları asarken öyle denk getiriyorum ki, öne çarşafları asıyorum sadece çaprazdan görüleyim diye, özellikle diğer daha kısa olan elbiseyi giyiyorum, yukarıya uzanınca küloduma kadar sıyrılıyor, aşağıya eğilince de göğüslerim fora ediyor, o kadar ıslanıyorum ki, içeri girip sana yazıyorum elim amımda!" diye anlattı. Kahveler bitmişti o ara. "O zaman artık elinle uğraşmayacaksın!" deyip, internetten aldığım büyük plastik yarağı çıkardım kutusundan. "Oha aşkımmm, bu ne?" dedi. "Bak şimdi!" dedim ,bacaklarını aralayıp amcığının dudakları arasına sürtmeye başladım. "Oğğğıııhhh!" diye tuhaf sesler çıkarıyordu. Önce kafasını soktum biraz sürttüre sürttüre, sonra milim milim kaydırdım içine. "Ohhhh, çok kalın, çok uzun, ohhhh çok güzel, aşkımmmm bu harika bir hediye, ohhhh, aşkım ağzıma ver yarağını!" dedi. Koltukta ilginç bir hal aldık. Yarağımı emerken, "Immmhhh, offf, ıhhhhh!" diye inliyor, plastik yarak amcığına girip çıktıkça kalçalarını oynatıyordu.

Tam o sırada Mustafa'nın sesi duyuldu, "Hale abla!" diye. Aceleyle toparlandı, gidip kapıyı açtı. Farkında değildi ama aldığı zevkten göğüs uçları kocaman olmuş üstündeki elbiseye isyan ediyordu. Teşekkür edip ekmeği alırken, Mustafa herhalde daha çok dikizlemek için, "Denize gelecek misin bugün?" diye sordu. Hale de, "Gelirim, ama çok işim var, ne zaman biter bilmem!" dedi. Mustafa iyice kafaya koymuş olmalı ki, "Benim yardım edebileceğim bir şey varsa seslen yeter Hale abla!" dedi. Resmen kapıda cilveleşiyorlardı. Hale, "Olursa hemen çağırırım Mustafacığım! Hafta sonu Ayhan abin vardı, çarşaflar falan kirlendi (bak orospuya!) çamaşır yıkıyorum, o yüzden belki geç gelirim denize, zaten benim de canım çok istemiyor, ancak sen gidersen gidecektim, hem bikinimi de yıkadım!" dedi.

Mustafa, "Pembe olanı mı Hale abla?" diye sorunca, "Evet onu!" dedi. Mustafa, "Çok yakışıyor sana..." dedi. İçimden, (Kızım gir içeri, çocuk seni şimdi veranda da sikecek!) dedim. Hale, "Tamam Mustafacığım, denize gidecek olursam sana işaret ederim!" dedi (Seslenirim yok, yani gözlerini benden ayırma diyor hatun!). Hale içeri geldiğinde benim yarak kazık gibi olmuştu. Hale'nin bacaklarının içlerinden amcık suları süzülüyor, sanki göğüs uçları zonk zonk atıyordu. Bacaklarını işaret edip, "Kız suları saldın, görmüştür çocuk!" dedim. "Gördü valla, kaç kez gözlerini devirdi bacaklarıma!" dedi. Sonra da gelip kıçını döndü, yarağımı tutup götüne hizalayıp üzerine oturdu. "Versene şunu!" deyip plastik yarağı da elimden kaptı, amcığının dudaklarına sürtmeye başladı...

Götünde ben olduğum için amına sokmaya çalıştığı plastik yarağın ancak kafası giriyordu. "Ohhhh amcığım da götüm de dolu, ohhh, her deliğimden sikilmek istiyorum, iki gerçek yarak doldursun içimi!" diye inliyor, bağırmak istiyor ama bağıramıyordu. Gözleri sımsıkı kapalı, hem Mustafa hem de benim aynı anda siktiğimi hayal ediyordu sanırım. "Gel Mustafa, gel!" dedim, sanki çocuk kapıdan girmiş gibi. Gözlerini bir açısı vardı ki, "Korkuttun beni yaaa!" dedi. Ben götünden çekilince plastik yarağı itiyor, ben yüklenince çekiyordu, tempoyu tutturmuştuk. Cial*s bayağı etkili bir hapmış ki, iki kez boşaldım götüne hiç çıkarmadan. Hale ise 3 kez orgazm oldu.

Biraz dinlendikten sonra beni mutfak penceresine götürdü, "Sen burdan seyret, en iyi burdan görürsün, hem bizim veranda hem de Mustafa'ların veranda görünür. Ben çamaşır asmaya çıkacağım şimdi!" dedi. Perdenin arkasından baktım, Mustafa ciğerci önünde bekleyen kedi misali neredeyse gözlerini kırpmadan buraya bakıyordu. İki dakika sonra Hale elinde çamaşır sepeti, ama az önce üzerinde olan plaj elbisesi yerine daha ince askılı, götünün 2 parmak altında mini etekli kavuniçi bir elbise ile kapıyı açıp verandaya çıktı. Yüzünü görmesem de sanırım Mustafa'ya gülümsedi ki, çocuk el kaldırıp sırıttı.

Önce nevresim takımını en ön ipe serdi. Veranda sanki kapanmıştı, yoldan geçen kimse içersini göremezdi. Solda ve sağda verandayı kapatan sürgülü siyah cam kapılar yarısına kadar açık olduğu için, sol ve sağ çapraz karşıdaki evler hariç kimse verandayı göremezdi. Önce sepeti özellikle yere koyup, Mustafa'ya doğru domaldı. O mesafeden çocuğun gözlerinin büyüdüğünü gördüm sanki. Hale o kadar yavaş hareket ediyordu ki, sütyensiz göğüsleri çamaşırları silkelerken hopluyor, elbisenin içinden çıkar gibi oluyor, uzanıp çamaşır ipine zor yetişiyor gibi yaptığında alttan sıyrılan etek simsiyah külodunu ortaya seriyordu. Mustafa'nın eli de resmen masanın altında hareket ediyordu. Hale, sepeti bir sağına bir soluna alıyor, eğilip sepetin içinden çamaşır alırken, kah göğüs uçlarını kah götünü sergiliyordu.

Bu oyun yarım saate yakın sürdü. Yarağım yine taş gibi oldu. Sevgilimi bu genç oğlanın sikişini seyretmek istiyordum. Hale içeri girip kapıyı kapatır kapatmaz altındaki külodu çıkarıp attı. Beni de kazık gibi yarakla görünce, hiç yer değiştirmeden perdenin arkasında, "Çabuk sok hayatım diye!" inledi. "Şu anda beni odanın birine saklayıp, Mustafa'yı çağırmanı ve dölleri bitene dek sikişmeni istiyorum sevgilim!" dedim. İnleyerek, "Offff ben de hayatım, ben de! Nasıl azdırıyorsun beni, kendimi orospu gibi hissediyorum! Mustafa gelse, o gencecik döllerini attırsa her yerime, ikiniz beraber sikseniz, ağzım boş kalacak, biri daha lazım aşkımmmm, ohhh!" diye diye orgazm oldu. Ben geleli daha 3 saat bile olmamıştı, kendimi tutup boşalmadım.

15 dakika dinlendikten sonra, akşam için birşeyler hazırlamaya başladık. Mutfakta ben de elimden geldiğince yardım ediyordum. Hatta iki defa tezgaha dayayıp arkadan amcığına soktum, 5'er dakika boşalmadan siktim, sürekli azgın kalsın istiyordum. O ara sordum, "Bu çocuğun anne babası nerde?" diye. "Onlar çalışıyor karı koca, bazen akşam gelir sabah giderler, bazen de sadece hafta sonları geliyorlar. Sol yanımdaki Almancı, o Temmuz ya da Ağustosta gelir, 1 ay kalır gider. Karşı ev Hatice abla, kocası öldü, çocukları gelir haftasonları. Sağ çaprazdakiler genç emekli, onlar bizim yaşlarda, Almanya'dan geldiler, yaz kış burdalar, ama çok hareketliler. Ayhan geldiğinde onlarla otururuz genelde, masa kurarız, bazen içer, bazen okey oynarız..." diye anlattı. Bir çırpıda siteyi öğrendim. Hem meze hazırlıyor hem konuşuyorduk...

Haleye, "Aşkım, bu üçüncü kişiyi de aramıza alma işine ne dersin, bunu düşünmek bile yarağımı dimdik yapıyor, senin de çok zevk aldığın belli!" dedim. "Sorma, hatırlıyor musun, ben 69 yapmayı bilmiyordum ya, 69'un ne olduğunu Melek anlattı!" dedi çapraz Almancıyı işaret edip, "Şimdi ise başkaları da olsun, beraber sikin istiyorum, bak!" dedi, elimi tutup amına götürdü vıcık vıcıktı. "Bugüne dek istemedim, ama bugün nerdeyse Mustafa'yı içeri çekip aranızda Tost olmak istedim, Tost'u da Melek anlattı, ama Mustafa çok genç, yarın çenesini tutamaz rezil oluruz!" dedi. "Biliyorum! Başka birilerini buluruz!" dedim. "Kimi bulacağız ki?" dedi. İki kez Melek demişti. Bunu bilinçli yaptığını biliyordum. "Anlat bakalım şu Melek nasıl bir tip?" dedim.

"Gel, bak!" dedi, perdenin arkasından onların verandayı gösterdi. At gibi, en 1.75 boyunda, ama tam ideal kiloda, siyah saçlı, irice göğüsleri olan, az önce Hale'nin giydiği plaj elbisesinin lacivertini giymiş, esmer güzeli bir kadın plaj havlusunu asıyordu. Bir an sanki beni görüyormuş gibi baktı. Hale, "Hayatım ben gidip 15 dakika takılayım şuna, yoksa biraz sonra aramaya gelir! Gidince salmaz genelde, ama işim var der kaçarım!" dedi. "Tamam!" dedim. O gidince ben de çabucak bir duş alıp, buzdolabına baktım. Soğuk bir bira açtım, perdenin arkasına geçip verandada oturan iki afeti seyretmeye başladım.

Mustafa'ya baktım, aralarında bir ev olduğu ve aynı hizada kaldıklarından Melek'lerin evini göremiyor, bir içeri bir dışarı çıkıp girip duruyordu. Hatunlar hani teraslara konulan salıncaklar var ya, onda oturuyorlardı, birbirlerine yüzleri dönük ve kahkahalarla birşeyler konuşuyorlardı. Melek benden tarafta oturuyor, yanladığı için bacak bacak üstüne atıp devirdiği götü muhteşem görünüyordu. Hale ise Meleğe doğru dönmüş, bağdaş kurmuş, sanki çok sıcaklıyormuş gibi kısacık eteğini sallıyor, amını havalandırıyordu. Benim baktığım açıdan görüldüğünü biliyordu. Bir ara Melek ayağa kalktı, Hale de uzanıp eteğinin arkasını kaldırdı. Melek basenlerini ve baldırlarını tutup Hale'ye gösteriyordu. Bense Meleğin (Gel beni sik!) diyen Tanga külotlu götüne dalıp kaldım. İki dakika sonra Hale ayağa kalktı, ikisi de kahkaha atıyorlarken, Melek dönüp direk benim olduğum pencereye baktı. Sonra da Hale eve geldi.

"Ne oldu, neden gülüştünüz o kadar?" dedim. "Evde sevgilim bekliyor, perdenin ardından bakıyordu, az önce senin götü de gördü, kaldırmıştır adam dedim!" dedi. "Ciddi misin, beni biliyor mu?" dedim. "Biz herşeyi konuşuruz! Sen geleceğini yazdığında beraberdik, o zaman söyledim. Zaten ilk geldiğimde geçtiğimiz yıllarda telefonla bu kadar ilgilenmediğim için bu sene sürekli telefon elimde diye huylanmış, bir akşam bir poşet bira alıp gelmiş, açıkcası sarhoş edip anlattırdı herşeyi. Kızdın mı?" dedi. "Yok be, ne kızayım!" dedim. "Zaten o da çok azgın, Kız bana da bulsak ya birini diyor, kocası sırf bundan kaçmak için küçük bir tekne aldı, erkenden balığa çıkıyor, geç vakit geliyor!" dedi. "Hımm.. O zaman bak ne yapalım, bir gün al izmir'e getir, ben de arkadaşlardan birini ayarlayayım, tanıştırırız!" dedim. "Aşkımsın!" deyip dudağıma yapıştı. Sonra eline teli alıp Meleğe, "Valla tamam!" diye mesaj yazdı.

"Mustafa ne yapıyor, bak bakalım!" dedim. "Dur, senin için yapmıştım seviyorsun diye, kabak mücveri var, bir tabak götüreyim!" dedi. "Telefonunla beni ara, telefon açık git, konuştuklarınızı duymak istiyorum!" dedim. "Tamam!" deyip gitti. Verandanın içindeki koltuğa bana sırtı dönük, bacak bacak üstüne atıp oturmuş, kahkahalarla Mustafa ile sohbet ediyordu. Hale, "Ay hafta sonu Ayhan abin vardı, çamaşır bulaşık dünya birikti, bir de Ayhan abin beni yordu (!), bugün öldüm yorgunluktan! Annenler gelecek mi bu akşam?" dedi. Mustafa da, "Yok gelmeyeceklermiş, az önce aradı!" dedi. Hale, "Eee sen ne yapacaksın?" diye sorunca, "Bilmem, iki bira alıp içerim belki.." dedi. "Sarhoş olmayasın?", "Yok abla, bana bişey olmaz!", "Bak sarhoş olup kızlara falan musallat olma!", "Yok be abla, kızların hepsi şımarık (ben senden hoşlanıyorum diyecek diye bekledim)!", "Eee yok mu sevgilin, gerçi eve de kimseyi aldığını görmedim ama..."

Tam o esnada kapıda tıkırtı gibi bir ses duydum, Hale anahtarı kapıya takıp gitmişti. "Hale?" diye bir bayan sesi. Tekrar, "Hale?" diye seslenince, şortumu giyip kapı arkasına gittim. Kapı açıldı. Melek kafasını içeri uzatıp, "Hale?" dedi alçak sesle. O zaman kapının arkasından çıktım ve "Buyrun?" dedim. İçeri girdi ve "Hale nerde?" dedi. "Mustafa'yı azdırmakla meşgul!" dedim. "Valla mı? Yine mi?" dedi gülerek. Tanıştık. "Gel bak!" dedim, perdenin arkasına götürdüm. Köşeden baktığımız için yanyanaydık. Bu arada Hale ile Mustafa sohbeti derinleştirmişler, Mustafa kışın okuldaki kızlardan biriyle yakınlaşmasını anlatıyordu. Karşıya ses gitmesin diye fısıltıyla, "Ben dinleyeyim diye telefonu açık!" dedim. Tebessüm edip, hem dinleyip, hem seyretmeye başladık.

Melek nasılsa herşeyi biliyor diye, "Hale siktirecek nerdeyse!" dedim. Melek de, "Ağzını sıkı tutacağını bilse çoktan siktirirdi!" dedi. Melek solumdaydı, omuzlarımızın arası 1 cm bile yoktu. Kulağıma yakınlaşıp, fısıltıyla, "Ben de arkadaşlarımdan ayarlayayım dediniz diye belki konuşuruz diye gelmiştim!" dedi. Fısıltıyla, "Nasıl birini istersin?" dedim kulağına dudağım değecek kadar yakın bir halde. "Hale'nin anlattıklarından anladığım kadarıyla senin kadar iyi bir sevgili olsa yeter!" dedi.

Hale'nin Mustafa'yla konuştuklarını duymak için telefonu ikimizin kulağının arasına kaldırdım tekrar. Hale, "Kız güzelmiydi?", Mustafa, "Çok güzeldi, ama şımarıktı!". Hale, "Olacak o kadar, genç kızlar biraz şımarır, üzüm yiyeceksen bağcıyı dövmeyeceksin!", Mustafa, "Ne kadar iyi davranırsan o kadar daha şımarıyorlar, o yüzden yaşıtım kızlar ilgimi çekmiyor!", Hale, "Var mı kızın fotoğrafı?" (konu kendisine gelecek diye top çeviriyordu hale), Mustafa, "Var telefonumda, ama biraz şey...". Hale, "Ney?" (sanki anlamadı, kız çıplak işte).

Bu arada heyecandan yarağım kazık gibi oldu yine. Meleğin de nefes alışverişleri hızlanmış, nerdeyse kalbinin gümbürtüsü telefondaki sohbeti kapatıyordu. Telefonun sesini açıp, "Kolum yoruldu, az sen tutar mısın?" dedim, maksat onun tarafındaki elimi boşa çıkarmaktı. Hale, "Aaaa Mustafa, bu kız yarı çıplak!", Mustafa, "Tam çıplağı da var abla!". Hale, "Sen mi çektin bunu?", Mustafa, "Evet, ben çektim!". Hale, "Lan bozdun mu yoksa kızı?", Mustafa, "Yok abla zaten bozuktu, ilk değildim ki, son da olmam!".

Meleğin kulağına, "Tamam, şimdi sikişecekler!" diye fısıldadım. Melek de benim kulağıma, "Evet, ben olsam üstüne atlamıştım!" dedi. Ben de, "Bugün kaç kez sikildi ama hala azgın güzel orospum!" dediğim anda Melek elini şortumun üstünden yarağıma attı. Ben de kalçalarına, birbirimizi okşuyor, telefonu da kulağımızdan ayıramıyorduk. Hale, "Bakalım başka nasıl fotolar var bunda?", Mustafa, "Abla başka yok ya, ver telefonu!". Hale, "Dur Mustafa, bakıyorum!", Mustafa, "Abla yaaa!". Hale, "Mustafa benim fotolarım dolu bunda?", Mustafa, "Abla özür dilerim...". Hale, "Bunu ne zaman çektin, havluya sarılı banyodan çıkmış halde?" (ben duyayım diye detay anlatıyordu). Mustafa, "Sizin arka bahçedeki erik ağacının arkasından...". Hale, "Başka da var mı? Aaaa, Ayhan abinle rakı içip oynaşırken, arka arkaya çekmişsin bir de!" Mustafa, "Abla onlara bakıyorum, sakın silme!".

Bu arada ben Meleği hafif domaltmış, arkadan amcığına yarağımı sokmuştum bile. Melek kalçasını hafif geri çıkarmış, telefon kulağımızda, sıklaşan nefeslerimizle sikişiyorduk. O an sanki Hale konuştukça daha da azıyorduk, ama telefondan ses gidecek anlayacaklar diye yavaş hareketlerle sikişiyorduk. Melek kafasını çevirip dudaklarıma yapıştı. Burnundan nefes alıp vererek kasılıyor, ardı ardına orgazm oluyordu. Ben de dayanamayıp yarağımı çıkarıp yere doğru boşaldım...

Hale, "Aaaa şaşırdım ama, bunu ne zaman çektin, koltukta her yerim açıkta uyurken?", Mustafa, "Onu Cuma akşamı çektim, daha yeni!". Hale, "Eeee, ne yapıyorsun bu fotolarla?". Mustafa, "Yaaaa Hale abla!". Hale, "Peki en çok hangisini beğeniyorsun?", Mustafa, "En çok beğendiğimi bilgisayarıma aktardım!". Hale, "Nasıl bir şey, görmek istiyorum!", Mustafa, "Ama kızmak yok!". Hale, "Önce bir göreyim de bakarız!" dedi. Mustafa kalkıp içeri giderken, Hale de bana doğru göz kırpıp, etrafına bakındı gören var mı diye ve arkasından içeri girdi. Az sonra Hale, "Oha artık!", Mustafa, "Kızmayacağına söz verdin abla!". O anda telefon kapandı.

Melek'le birbirimize baktık, dudaklarına yapıştım. Tek ayağını kaldırıp duvara dayadım, yarağımı amcığına alttan sertçe soktum. Ben Meleği sikerken, Melek, "Meraktan kuduruyorum, Hale şu anda siktiriyor mu acaba?" dedi. "Onu bilmiyorum, ama sen siktiriyorsun!" dedim. Melek, "Evet, muhteşem sikiyorsun, hayatımda bu kadar heyecanlanmamıştım!" deyip, dudaklarımı boynumu öpüyordu. Yine ardı ardına orgazm olmaya başladı. Bu kez telefon da olmadığı için, "Ahh, evet, eveettt, kökle, ohhh, harikasın!" diye diye orgazm oluyordu. Amında birkaç kez daha git gel yapıp yarağımı çıkardım, sehpanın üstündeki bezi alıp yarağıma sardım, boşalır gibi hareketler yaptım.

Melek, "Ben gideyim, Hale gelip bizi böyle görmesin!" deyip arka kapıdan bahçeye çıkıp ağaçların yanından kayboldu

[camficdiner]

{1.6} {2.7} {3.1} {4.2} 🙏🙏

☕️Cam’s fic diner -order 035

🍒 thank you!

To the lovely soul who left this request at the counter — your idea was the perfect blend of sweetness 🍓

I had so much fun bringing it to life, and I hope it made your heart race in all the right ways.

Thanks for stopping by Cam’s Fic Diner — come back anytime, love 💌

💬 “Extra Sweet, No Foam, All You.”

✨ description & prompts:

 character: Macklin Celebrini

 prompt: Accidental coffee spill at a café outside the Shark Tank

 word count: ~1k

 type: fluff, meet-cute, awkward + precious Mack, slow and sweet vibes

The café is nothing special — one of those tucked-away spots across from the SAP Center that mostly survives on hockey traffic and people running late. You’re both.

Your fingers fumble over the lid of your iced coffee as you exit the door, head low, bag slipping off your shoulder. That’s probably why you don’t notice the tall boy turning the corner.

Your drinks collide.

The lid bursts. Cold caramel latte explodes across someone’s chest.

“Oh my god—” you gasp, yanking your hand back, already reaching for napkins. “I am so sorry—!”

“No, no, it’s okay—” the guy blinks down at himself, voice soft but clearly panicked. “I—it’s cold coffee, right? Like, not hot? I don’t think I’ll need surgery—”

You finally look up.

And—oh.

Macklin Celebrini. Fresh-faced, golden-tan, soft-mouthed.

Now soaked in espresso and milk.

His hoodie is a disaster.

You blink. “You’re—uh—”

“Yeah,” he mumbles, cheeks blooming pink. “Macklin.”

“I know,” you say before you can stop yourself. “I mean—I know who you are.”

He smiles, bashful. “And now you’ve baptized me in coffee.”

You cover your face. “Oh my god, I’m mortified—”

“Hey,” he chuckles. “I’ve had worse hits on the ice. At least this one smells good.”

You peek through your fingers. “Let me buy you a new one. Like—coffee. Or hoodie. Or both. Or your entire laundry bill, honestly.”

He laughs again, rubbing the back of his neck, now absolutely shy. “You don’t have to. But if you’re offering… I wouldn’t say no to a drink. You know. If you sit and, like, sip yours too. Not spill it. Just—sit.”

You pause. “You want me to sit with you.”

“Only if you promise not to dump your next one on me.”

You grin. “Deal.”

You end up sitting across from him in the same café. He lets you pick the corner booth. He wipes his hoodie down with a spare napkin and mutters something about how he “wasn’t even supposed to be here yet.”

He asks your name.

You give it, and he repeats it. Quietly. Like a secret.

You ask what he’s doing out alone.

He shrugs. “Wanted air. Got hit with caffeine instead.”

You laugh.

He watches you — not in a creepy way, just… quietly. Like he’s memorizing you.

“I’ve never had a coffee date before,” he says suddenly.

You blink. “This is a date?”

His face goes bright red. “I mean—it’s—no, I just meant—unless you want—”

You grin into your cup. “Maybe.”

[blaaaaask]

I'm looking back over this thing like some kind of crackpot theory person, but it's interesting how Alissa Goldie saps the energy out of the video cam. First pic it's down 2, and then right after it's back to 3.

So maybe she is a ghost?

Googled about it and: "Ghosts are believed to be able to affect electronic apparatus and cause fluctuations in electrical activity"

Also in this scene, Hojo's shoes are super weird looking. Like...for awhile there it's like he disappears and there is something else there. I can't tell what that is, though. Kind of looks like a robot leg. So my other theory is...is it actually a robot from Hojo?

And if Alissa Goldie is somehow a robot, then their evil smirks make more sense HAHA. Like, why not keep tabs on your boyo in a beautiful body that is of your "dead" wife and also the mother of your child? EHH? EHHH?

My other theory is she's a ninja, only because they mentioned 'have you ever fought a ninja before.' But I have nothing to back that, just vibes.

Thanks for coming to my Ted Talk.

[mysteriesofmilo]

Second summer?

Phineas and Ferb is coming back TONIGHT AT 7PM CDT for a brand new summer. Canonically, it is the second summer of shenanigans we will see. But is it really?

So far, Phineas and Ferb has 187 single part episodes, 25 double part episodes, 10 longer specials, and 2 movies. That comes out to 222 episodes, and if we add in the movies, that's 224 days of summer, right? Which means we have already seen all of the second summer and part of the third?

Not quite.

(Note that I am not taking into account that in real life, it would take much longer to do most of the projects they do.) Also, there is a TL;DR at the bottom.

Here is a list of episodes that do not qualify as one day of summer, and the reasons why:

Traffic Cam Caper: takes place entirely at night

Phineas and Ferb Get Busted: takes place within a dream within a dream, entirely at night

Bubble Boys / Isabella and the Temple of Sap: this is the same day from two different perspectives, so we can eliminate one of them

Phineas and Ferb Christmas Vacation (original and extended editions): takes place entirely in winter

Phineas and Ferb Hawaiian Vacation: this is listed on the wiki as a two-parter, but it has two separate stories that take place over two days

Phineas and Ferb: Summer Belongs to You!: despite Phineas's statement that they are creating "the biggest, longest, funnest summer day of all time," this day actually lasts about 40 hours, which effectively comes out to two days

Candace Gets Busted: takes place entirely at night

That's the Spirit: takes place entirely in fall

Tri-Stone Area, Doof Dynasty, Excaliferb!, and Phineas and Ferb and the Temple of Juatchadoon (collectively premiered as Time Shift Weekend): take place entirely in other time periods

When Worlds Collide: takes place entirely at night

What'd I Miss?: the entire episode is the characters telling Ferb and Perry what happened the previous day, so naturally there had to be two days here

Blackout!: takes place entirely at night

For Your Ice Only / Happy New Year!: take place entirely in winter

Bee Day / Bee Story: this is the same day from two different perspectives, so again, we can eliminate one

Phineas and Ferb Musical Cliptastic Countdown Hosted by Kelly Osbourne: yes, we all want to forget that this even exists, plus there is no indication that it even takes place during the summer

Drusselsteinoween: takes place entirely in fall

Terrifying Tri-State Trilogy of Terror: all three stories and the Macabre-Mobile take place entirely at night

Phineas and Ferb: Star Wars: takes place entirely in an alternate universe

Doof 101: takes place on the first day of school

Act Your Age: takes place entirely 10 years in the future

The O.W.C.A. Files: takes place after Doofenshmirtz decided to become good in the series finale

Now, here is a list of episodes that DO qualify as one day of summer, despite not appearing as such:

The Monster of Phineas-n-Ferbenstein: Most of the episode is a story told by Reginald Fletcher and Dr. D, but we do see them starting and finishing the story while a thunderstorm goes on outside

Unfair Science Fair / Unfair Science Fair Redux (Another Story): These episodes are listed separately, and despite the fact that they have some of the same scenes, they cover two different days

Phineas and Ferb Musical Cliptastic Countdown: yes, the entire episode is an awards show for the show's music, but Doofenshmirtz and Monogram took time out of their summer to do it and there is a cut to Phineas and Ferb

Wizard of Odd: despite taking place mostly in a dream, the episode starts and ends with Candace in her room in the daytime

Tri-State Treasure: Boot of Secrets: despite taking place mostly in a movie made by Phineas and Ferb, Doof's plan to turn himself into a kid proves that the episode did in fact take place

Where's Perry?: even though this is technically two separate 2-part episodes, I counted it as one of the ten longer specials, so this does not throw off my count

Ferb TV: even though most of the episode is just clips of TV shows, the boys still would have had to make those shows in the first place, so I'm counting it

Love at First Byte: despite being centered around the block party, the episode does take place over the course of a day

Steampunx: yes, most of the episode takes place at the Danville 1903 World's Fair, but we also see the Gang doing metal detecting with Lawrence, and Buford finds the coin

The Klimpaloon Ultimatum: even though the awards ceremony lasts 24 hours, we can assume that another episode took place on the day they left for the ceremony, counting this as a single day

Lost in Danville: even though most of the episode takes place in an alternate universe, we see the real PnF peering through the portal at the end

Now we must subtract a day for the following episodes:

Traffic Cam Caper

Phineas and Ferb Get Busted

Bubble Boys / Isabella and the Temple of Sap

Christmas Vacation

Candace Gets Busted

That's the Spirit

Tri-Stone Area

Doof Dynasty

Excaliferb!

Phineas and Ferb and the Temple of Juatchadoon

When Worlds Collide

Blackout!

For Your Ice Only

Happy New Year!

Bee Day / Bee Story

Second Musical Cliptastic Countdown

Drusselsteinoween

Terrifying Tri-State Trilogy of Terror

Star Wars Episode IVa

Doof 101

Act Your Age

The O.W.C.A. Files

And add a day back for the following episodes:

Hawaiian Vacation

Summer Belongs to You!

What'd I Miss?

So that means we take out 22 days and add 3 back in. Since we started at 224, this gives us a grand total of 205 days of summer.

Side note: here is how the 104 days in the theme song was calculated:

At the time, most TV seasons had 26 episodes, as opposed to the standard 20 today.

At the time, Disney typically gave each of their shows 2 seasons. 2 seasons x 26 episodes = 52 total episodes.

An "episode" was defined as a half-hour block including two 11-minute segments and commercials. So if each segment was its own story lasting one day, that would come out to 52 episodes x 2 = 104 total days of summer.

But that's not all! There are some days that are repeated:

The first day of summer

In the Milo Murphy's Law episode Murphy's Lard, Melissa explains that it was the first day of summer when she had just finished a really cool science project: a model of the solar system. (Zack questions why she was making a science project on the first day of summer, but my thought is that she was going to enter it into the science fair in Unfair Science Fair.) But then, just as she had finished making it, the rollercoaster dropped out of the sky and crushed it! This is one of many hints that Rollercoaster took place on the first day of that summer. Another is when Carl flat out says in Rollercoaster: The Musical! that Doof had already done the same evil scheme "on the first day of summer."

In Phineas and Ferb's Quantum Boogaloo, Future Candace says she's going back to "the first day of that summer: the day they built... the rollercoaster!" So she's going back to the episode Rollercoaster, right? Wrong. Good Future Candace and Bad Future Candace actually appear in Rollercoaster: The Musical while Present Candace is walking through the grocery store parking lot with Linda. So we can reasonably infer that Rollercoaster: The Musical also took place on the first day of summer.

Father's Day (possibly)

Season 4 has an episode literally titled Father's Day. However:

Summer Belongs to You technically takes place over a three-day stretch (starting one evening and continuing to two evenings later), the middle day of which is the summer solstice. And we can reasonably infer from the fact that Linda and Lawrence are taking a trip for that entire time, that they are going somewhere for the weekend. (Perhaps for Lawrence to be picked up by Reginald for their usual Father's Day flight, as revealed in Father's Day?) It's also possible that Doof used Father's Day as an excuse to get Vanessa on his "daddy-daughter trip" to Tokyo. Given this idea, we can reasonably infer that this episode starts on Friday night and ends on Sunday night, meaning Saturday has to be the solstice. Now, it is possible, as in 2025, that Father's Day (which is always the third Sunday in June) takes place on Sunday June 15th, while the summer solstice takes place on Saturday the 21st. But it's also possible that the solstice takes place on, say, Saturday June 20th, putting Father's Day on Sunday the 21st. Or it could be the 19th and 20th.

Canada Day (July 1st, aka my birthday)

Sidetracked is about Agent P working with Canadian agent Lyla Lolliberry to protect Albert the Moose, who is on his way to a Canada Day ceremony.

In The Bully Code, Monogram apologizes for disturbing Agent P on Canada Day.

Last Day of Summer

The episode Last Day of Summer takes place on, take a wild guess.

However, there was also a live show during the original run, that took place on the last day of summer. I never went to see it, but I saw commercials for it that specifically mentioned this fact. If we add the live show into our count, that equals 206 days of summer, with 2 left over. That still leaves 2 Fourth of Julys.

And there's at least one summer holiday that never happened in the original run: Independence Day! I would LOVE to see what Phineas and Ferb cook up for July 4th. I would also love to see how being from different countries affects certain characters' views of the holiday, like Ferb and Lawrence (who might have especially strong feelings, being from Britain), Roger and Heinz (keeping in mind that Drusselstein has been under many foreign occupations, likely including Britain at one point), and Vivian (given her Mexican background, and presumably her husband's Jewish background). Seems like a missed opportunity that they will hopefully take advantage of in the reboot.

But I'm getting off topic. The point is that, by my calculations, we have already seen 206 days of summer. Which fits into a span of 2 summers with 2 days to spare. That means, mathematically, we are headed into the THIRD summer.