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[stellawish]

bunnies and penguins

genre: fluff fluff fluff warnings: just satoru being good dad idk :o pairing: dad!gojo x mom!reader

As soon as you closed the door behind you, Satoru looked down at his son and cooed, "Looks like it's just the two of us, buddy," he pinched his plump cheek. "Haru, Mama went to have fun with Auntie Shoko. What are your plans for today, buddy?" Your three-month-old baby looked up at his father and blinked a couple of times.

Summer was in full swing. The July heat was intense. Satoru trudged towards the refrigerator. After stocking up on some cold soda and snacks, they headed to the living room. Sitting comfortably on the large sofa, he placed Haru on his left thigh and wrapped his arm around the little boy.

While he sipped his grape soda and flipped through the channels in search of something interesting, he paused for a moment when a bright advertisement appeared on the screen. Small animals, the characters from Sanrio, bounced up and down on the beach. Haruo squealed with delight.

Satoru noticed that his son's attention was focused on the screen, and he yelled again when the white character—Cinnamoroll—appeared on the TV. "You like him, Haru?” he kissed his chubby cheek. “Huh oh right, he looks like your favorite plushie."

Since day one, Haru has always slept with that one plushie. When you were still pregnant, Gojo won you it at a festival. As soon as you held it in your hands, you decided that this bunny was meant for your son. Since then, it has always accompanied him during his daytime naps and nighttime dreams.

Satoru stroked his son’s chubby belly and glanced at the time. "Snack time, baby." He put down the empty soda can and stood up with Haru, heading towards the refrigerator. With his left arm he held his son close while his right hand reached for the milk.

Satoru warmed the milk and checked its temperature by dropping a couple of drops on his wrist. After ensuring that it was fine, he returned to the living room. Turning off the TV, he cradled the baby in the crook of his arm and brought the bottle to his small lips. Haru immediately grabbed the bottle with both hands and began to take big sips. Satoru chuckled "Take your time, buddy. I know mommy’s milk is very yummy but we don’t want you to have a tummy ache" he said, stroking the baby's plump cheek with his thumb. The gentle sounds of feeding filled the silence of the living room

Satoru looked down at the fluttering white eyelashes and the thin eyebrows. His heart was filled with a such an overwhelming wave of tenderness. This is his baby. Yours and his. Although several months had passed since his birth, Satoru sometimes looked at the tiny bundle and couldn’t believe that he was really here.

The fruit of your love, the symbiosis of you and him, was here. Now, he gazed at his son and thanked the universe and God for such a precious gift. He gently took his son's tiny hand and began to examine his small fingers. "One, two, three, four, five." Five little fingers. He brought his tiny hand to his face and kissed it gently.

Then he softly ran his fingers over the baby’s plump leg, tickling his tiny foot. The little one smiled without looking up from the bottle. "One, two, three, four, five." He counted his tiny toes. This habit of his had started since Haruo was born. When they brought him—tiny, red, and screaming—to Gojo, he couldn't believe his son was here. Later, he lay in bed with you, and together you gazed at your baby. Satoru was struck by how tiny his fingers were.

Haru moved, pulling Satoru from the depths of his memories. He looked at his son and saw that the bottle had already been emptied. He set it down and carefully picked up the child, placing him on the shoulder. He began to stroke his back gently until he heard a distinctive grunt. "Good job, buddy"

beep-beep

He turned his head and saw that his phone was behind the pillow. He stretched out and took the phone in his right hand. A message from you appeared on the screen.

my goddess 💘😫

hi toru. shoko and I already met up. we're heading out for coffee.

You send a selfie with Shoko. Satoru opened it and smiled. "Baby, look! It’s mommy and auntie Sho!". He pointed the screen at the baby’s face, and the little one cooed.

what are u guys up to? 👀

Satoru opened the camera on his phone and called to his son, "Hey, baby, look here! We'll send this photo to Mom." Gojo grinned and made a peace sign while baby looked up at the camera.

we got bored so we decided to watch some tv

He send the picture and u replied,

aww my cute babies😘

A bit later, Gojo reheated the yakisoba you made, while baby lay in his rocking chair, making soft gurgling sounds. After finishing his meal, Satoru picked up the Haru and carried him to the nursery. "Time for a nap, baby," he said, kissing baby’s soft cheek.

After changing the diaper, he opened a drawer with onesies. Every time he looked at the tiny clothes, Satoru's heart fluttered with cuteness. "Haru, should we choose this one or this one?" In his left hand, he held a tiny white onesie with small yellow ducks, and in his right, a grey onesie with a penguin on it. The baby cooed. Satoru raised his eyebrows. "With a penguin? A wonderful choice, baby."

After that, he sat down in a rocking chair and began to rock gently, stroking his son's small back. The baby in his arms started to yawn.

Satoru ran his lips through his son’s thin hair sniffing his sweet baby smell. He softly touched his forehead with his lips, along with his tiny nose and plump cheeks. Satoru couldn't get enough of his adorable son.

A few minutes later, the baby's eyes began to close, and his breathing became steady.

Satoru continued to admire his sleeping son for a bit. As much as he loved holding him, he knew he needed to make a work call. For a few minutes, he remained seated, savoring these moments of closeness with his son. He carefully stood up and placed the sleeping baby in the crib. Gently, he ran his finger along the child's cheek and adjusted the bunny plush. After ensuring the baby monitor was set correctly, he quietly closed the door behind him.

more dad!gojo HERE

hey guys you liked previous post so here we are! if you want more dad!gojo and mom!reader let me know I will gladly do more! and as i said before english is not my first language soo yeah

reblogs and comments are highly appreciated guys<3

tags: @3lliesrifle @achbbys000 @happytreetale @mashtura

dividers by: 2. @enchanthings

all rights reserved ©stellawish. do not copy, repost, translate, or modify my works in any platform.

[themilfsland]

needy patience

Pairing(s): Mommy!Wanda x fem!reader.

Summary: Mommy Wanda teaches you how to have patience because you have been acting like a restless child lately.

Content: smut with some plot, smutty, top Wanda, bottom reader, teasing, praising, orgasm denial, edging, fingering, mommy kink;

The whole week you've been giving her a brat attitude, not accepting the no's you received, stressing over nonsense, and unfollowing some rules that she especially made for her baby girl. The other night, you even showed her a silly complaint when she said it was time for sleep but the only thing you wanted was mommy touching you. She knows all your needs and she is always available to supply them. Beyond that, she knows what is best for you, even when you disagree, like that exactly night that you didn't listen to her. But, still, she was patient and explained to you it was late and you needed to rest first. You went to bed sulking, she noticed that.

The week passed and here you are, sitting on the couch with Wanda while some random entertainment channel is streaming on TV. Your back dives in her embrace, her arms around you while her fingertips caress your hand. You try to adjust yourself on the couch for the third time until she asks, "What's wrong, detka?", you sign but your voice sounds colder than you expected, "Nothing is wrong.". Wanda is definitely not pleased with your answer, even less the way you've been responding to her lately. "I'm not asking you again.", her fingers that once were tender against your skin, now they’re gripping your wrist a little too tight.

You've been a bad girl and she is getting mad now, but you just don't know how to explain why you are in this moody. You take a deep breath before saying, "Ugh it's these long advertisements every single time, we can't watch five minutes of the show without them popping up.", you try to accommodate yourself again but this time Wanda holds your waist.

She hears your protesting but says nothing about it, instead, she keeps her attention on the TV. You didn’t like that, not at all, she can’t be ignoring you now, why would she do that. You are pulled out from your thoughts when you feel one of her hands reaching inside your t-shirt, scratching your belly skin until her hand grabs your breasts and presses them, by the surprise from her act you couldn't hold a shy whimper. Still with no words from her, she starts playing with your sensitive nipples, pressing between her fingers and pulling a little. You clench your legs feeling your arousal, and you could swear that she gave a smirk noticing how needy you're already becoming.

You shiver when you feel her other hand reaching into your shorts, "What are you doing, Wanda?", you turn your head to the side and lay back on her shoulder, trying to look directly at her face. "I'm gonna teach you how to have patience, detka", she gives you a mock smile but you are not satisfied with her answer, "Teach me? What do you mean by that?". She grabs your jaw and makes you return your head forward, to keep you looking at the TV, "The rules are simple, darling, I'm gonna touch you throughout every advertising period and stop when your silly program gets back. Ohh, and you're not allowed to cum until I say you can".

You already feel dizzy by just hearing these rules, you can't imagine how many times she would edge you, it will be a complete torture. Her voice took you from your thoughts, "Understood?", her fingers press harder your jaw, "Y-yes, Wanda", you sign but she immediately retorts "That's not the name I wanna hear", you whine back feeling the ache between your legs growing, "Sorry, mommy, please".

She released your face and helped you take off your shorts and panties, with the excuse that it would be more comfortable for you. Sitting in front of her again, laying your back on her chest and head on her shoulder, you feel your body burning with the excitement of Wanda finally touching you after this hell week, but you doubt these thoughts when her hands spread your legs. "You're gonna be a good girl for me now, aren't you detka?", she pats her fingertips on your inner thigh, you can only nod and give her a muffled moan, "I need your words, darling", her fingers reaching your troubles folds, "mommy please, I'm gonna be your good girl, I can take it, please", you whimper with the sensation of how wet you already are, maybe you were wrong, the true torture and hell of this week is about to start now.

Wanda keeps acting like nothing happened minutes ago, her unbothered bothers you, her hand rests on your pussy without any movement, but you can feel her fingertips touching lightly your sensitive areas. You're about to complain about the lack of contact when the commercial starts. No words are said except your whining when you feel her fingers rubbing your clit before start giving circle movements. You try to close your legs, but she grabs your thigh before you can do it, "Stay still, detka, legs wide open for me, let mommy plays with you a little bit".

Wanda wasn't joking about the rules after all, one finger easily slip into your cunt, your walls tighten around her, initiating a slow in and out thrustings, "You're being so good for me, darling, but I know you can take more", you moan louder than the volume of the TV when you feel her stretching you out with the second finger. Her ministrations begin to get faster and harder and you try to place your hand on top of her other hand that is gripping your inner thigh to keep you open. You feel your arousal dripping out while her fingers curled inside your needy pussy. She knows that your orgasm is approaching by the way your walls clench around her fingers and your moans are getting desperate, but she didn't have to worry about that because the advertising time ended.

She immediately stops her movements and all you can do is beg her, "mommy please, don't stop, I need you", she thrusts deeper into you and takes out her fingers.The emptiness that is left in your pussy makes you whimper and squeeze her hand that you are holding. You beg again but she shushes your complaints, "shhh detka, the show is back, have some patience until the next play time", her teasing voice makes you move your hip to get any less frustrating contact but as soon as she notices your pathetic acts she slaps your clit. "Don't make me give you a harder lesson, sweetheart. I'm already taking it easy on you", you moan in response, your ached clit is still pulsating because of her slap but the pressure of the palm of her hand resting on top of your pussy makes the soreness a little better, or not.

Another commercial time and the torture begins. Her fingers pushing hard and deep into your helpless cunt. The mess you are doing doesn't even bother you anymore. The wet spot of your arousal would probably be forming on the couch fabric beneath you.

At your third orgasm edging she had to stop before the show came back, "Mommy there's still time, why did you stop? please I need to cum". She pulls her fingers out again, not letting you get any friction with her hand, "I guess you forgot the second rule, darling, no cumming until I say you can", she speaks low, near your ear, making your walls contract the void space her fingers had left you.

It is the fourth time that she is edging you, or even more, you honestly lost the counting, the overstimulation is too much for you to think. Right now the only thing you are able to do is beg, besides, your legs are too weak to fight against her. She notices all that and decides to take pity on you. "You are dripping in my hand and still so tight for me. I can't get enough from you", she praises you and you beg her to let you cum this time. The fingers of her hand that once was restraining your thigh start rubbing your clit. You automatically lean your head on her shoulder, pressing your back on her chest, eyes closed and your mind starts turning off. "Cum for me, detka. Finish the mess you started", you almost came instantly when she allowed you. It took a few more rough thrusting until your orgasm came, you moan louder and feel your pussy getting full of your cum with her fingers still buried inside you.

She can hear your heavy and tired breathing and feels the light twitches your body is giving. An unexpected whimper was taken from you when she pulled her fingers out, leaving your soaked and throbbing core. "You took me so well, detka", she gives you a forehead kiss, "but I hope you learned how important is to have some patience too".

[ellastone-olsen]

Beggin’ on her knees to be popular - Elizabeth Olsen

★Pairing: Elizabeth Olsen x f!reader

Summary: New person with Elizabeth Olsen at the Golden Globes. It seems like a lot of attention is attached to you two, let's see what happens at the end of the celebration.

★Warnings: very little NSFW, fluff, hurt/comfort

★Word count: 1k

★AN: In no way is it an insult to the winners, just as a fan of Lizzie, this is my alternative version. It hurt me to look at her upset face my poor baby. I also changed the design of my fics a little.

The crowd of people grew larger and swallowed you up, taking you somewhere away. Celebrities and their partners arrived every minute, filling the once spacious street. You grabbed Elizabeth's hand so that these strangers wouldn't separate you in their haste. The event was starting.

A few hours ago, you sat on a chair in a room filled with books and watched as makeup artists put the finishing touches on the image of your beloved. Your mouth watered at the sight of her white dress, which made her look too much like a bride. She was beaming with happiness, but when everyone left the room, leaving you alone, the smile disappeared from her face. You stand up from chair and walked up to her, gently taking her hand to kiss it.

“Are you worried?” You asked looking at her, but her head was lowered and gaze was fixed somewhere on the floor. A hum of agreement was all she “said.” You sighed and took her face in your hands as carefully as possible so as not to ruin her makeup. “Hey look at me, I'll be there, you're always a winner to me anyway. Do you hear?" Her big green eyes expressed gratitude and she leaned towards you for a soft kiss. You stood opposite each other for some time, touching your foreheads, until someone entered the room to announce the arrival of the car.

Your thoughts returned to the present time, as you watched from the sidelines as Elizabeth posed for the paparazzi. Not a trace of that uncertainty remains. Now all attention was focused on your beloved and your heart swelled with tenderness and pride, cries of her name were heard from different sides and you were sure that today she would take the reward.

From somewhere, aftersound of gossip about the two of you reached your ears. “They came together?” “So those rumors are true, have you seen the paparazzi pictures?” A sigh of irritation escapes you, of course Lizzie was not the kind of person to advertise her personal life. You never put pressure on her in this topic and did not think that she was hiding or ashamed of you. But how much you wanted to declare to the whole world that this woman is yours, and you are hers. Another thing that you expected from this day was to dot all the i’s about you.

Everyone sat down in places that had been pre-allocated for everyone. You took a seat next to Elizabeth and placed her hand on your burgundy velvet clad knee and covered it, woven your fingers together. It seems like someone at the next table was staring at you. The day dragged on slowly and you were already starting to get annoyed by this leading man spawned from nowhere, who is he anyway?

A couple of times you stood up to applaud Emma Stone, she was your favorite among all these celebrities (unless of course you count the woman in white nearby) and you were sincerely happy for her victory. Sitting in one place was torture and you fidgeted in your chair waiting for a break, Elizabeth also noticed this and leaned over and whispered in your ear to be patient a little. 20 minutes, 10 minutes, 5 minutes, lo and behold. The bell that signaled a break sounded like a blessing from above.

You were sewing somewhere in the labyrinth of corridors and Lizzie’s hand gently slid into yours. “There are two nominations left, very soon we will go home.” The woman clearly studied the plan of the event, unlike you. “When we arrive, we will celebrate your victory.” You stroked her hand with the pad of your thumb. Countless stars passed by, someone again looked with surprise, noticing your clasped hands, someone simply smiled. “Darling, I haven’t won anything yet, and maybe I won’t win at all.” The tone with which she said this sounded upset again. You stopped and gently pushed her back against the wall, your hands resting on her shoulders. Looked into her eyes and leaned in for a gentle kiss, ignoring the people nearby. Taylor Swift giggled a little as she walked by.

When your lips parted, your shaky breath hung in the heated air. Your hand found her again and pulled her somewhere into the far dark corner of the corridor, where there was not a soul to witness your teenage incontinence.

“Baby, not here, you’re going to eat all my lipstick.” Elizabeth laughed as your hands rested on her hips. “Mmmmm but you are so beautiful in this dress, and besides, I want these pessimistic thoughts to leave your sweet head and it seems...” The skirt of the dress was bunched up in the middle of her soft thighs. “I found a good way.” Your knee was pressed between her legs and she started grinding slowly the soft velvet fabric of your pants. “Mmmmmm Y/N.” She grabbed onto your shoulders for balance and you brought one hand down to her clothed center and stroked the sensitive bud. It was already so hot and wet between her legs, your head was spinning. "Lizzie...my love." Your mouth hovered over her collarbones, placing small kisses so that there would be no hickeys left.

The damn bell announced the continuation of the event and you tore yourself away from the woman with a roar, straightening the skirt of dress. “I hope you brought lipstick with you.” You giggled and earned a playful slap on your ass from her. "I love you too." You managed to shout before she disappeared into the toilet.

Lizzie’s nomination was approaching and you were nervous, picking at the pad of your thumb with your index nail to the point where it hurt to hold the champagne glass. “And the Golden Globe goes to...” You stopped breathing, squeezing Elizabeth’s hand tighter, all the next words came to you as if you were at the bottom of the ocean. "Elizabeth Olsen." The hall erupted in applause, Lizzie looking at you with a beaming smile. When you came to your senses, you nodded towards the stage. The cameras were trained on the two of you and before leaving, the woman leaned over and kissed you, not for the last time that day.

[flaggermuser]

Look At This Photograph

1,229 words || AU, Tender Threads timeline, Hurt/Comfort, GN Reader, Doctor Reader, Happy Ending, References to Childhood Trauma ||

A little gift for @sehtoast feat. Tawny (GN Reader)

It follows on from When You Loved Me

This is also unbeta'd so we are dying like kings

Tawny.

Ben had heard Homelander say your name enough times for him to become curious enough to meet you finally. He knew all about the bad room, the unending nightmare of experimentation that Homelander was subjected to as a child.

But he’d never heard about you before Homelander went ‘home’. Homelander even admitted that he didn’t know about you until he found that fateful file with your name.

Then he tracked you down.

And now, Ben stands with Homelander, patiently waiting for you to open the door. He notices how Homelander fiddles with his suit, almost nervously, as if his appearance must meet your approval.

The moment you open the door, Ben is slightly taken aback, able to hide his initial surprise quickly.

You’re nothing like the others in the lab.

“John!” Your arms fling open, and you pull Homelander into the tightest parental hug.

Hearing you say Homelander’s real name throws Ben off a little, something that, this time, he’s not able to hide. Yet he manages to collect himself enough to see how Homelander melts into you and your embrace.

“They love me,” Homelander explains with a smile. “They had to leave because they loved me.”

It seems to last for centuries, neither of you willing to let go of the other until Homelander eventually, and with much hesitation, pulls away first.

“Tawny, this is my boyfriend, Ben.”

Now your attention is on Ben, your lips curving into that warm smile that Homelander won’t stop raving about. Something undeniably nurturing about you makes Ben’s guard drop only slightly.

“Welcome, Ben. John has told me so much about you. Come on in.”

It’s precisely how Homelander described it in vast detail.

Everything from the slightly tasteless couch and armchair set to the mantlepiece covered in those ornate frames. Despite Homelander’s numerous attempts to explain how different you are, Ben remains on edge, ready to defend Homelander.

“A glass of milk for John, lemonade for Ben and some cookies for both.”

It feels strangely familiar, like when Ben used to visit his grandparents. It's a very simple but extremely loving gesture that makes Homelander practically beam with happiness.

“So Ben,” you begin. “Homelander has told me everything about you. It's so nice to meet you finally.” There you go again with that tone, filled with sincerity and unfathomable kindness. 

“Likewise,” Ben musters, still unsure. “It's a nice house you have.”

“I’m glad you think so. I try to keep it nice, although I don’t get many visitors. Well, I never used to.”

You reach across, taking Homelander’s hand and squeezing it as tightly as possible, looking at him with an adoring gaze. It's no wonder Homelander latched onto you as quickly as he did.

You give your love so freely - Homelander doesn't have to do anything to earn it.

It’s unconditional.

Homelander excuses himself, leaving Ben alone with you. He’s trying not to look at you; he doesn’t want you to notice how uneasy he is. Luckily, Homelander has been too preoccupied with you to notice how awkward Ben feels.

“You're uncomfortable, I can tell,” you state it as a fact but tenderly, attempting to ease the tension caused by Ben’s anxiety.

“I'm anxious too,” you confess. “I admit part of me worries that you think I'm unsuitable to be in John's life. He told me you know about the lab and what was done to him. I know you must have questions; I’ll do my best to answer.”

Can you read minds?

“Why did you join the project in the first place? Surely you knew what they were doing?”

“I didn't,” it's the truth. Ben can tell when people are lying. “I joined because it was advertised as a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity; I thought it would be something else.”

The first few tears prick your eyes. “I stayed because I couldn't leave him to cry alone in the dark at night. He needed someone to care for him, so I did my best.”

You sniff, barely able to utter another word before Homelander kneels at your feet, taking your hands in his and glaring at Ben.

“What did you say?” Homelander hisses, clearly angry that Ben made you cry.

“John,” saying his name draws his attention back to you.

Ben watches how you hold Homelander's face in your hands and look at him like he's the most precious thing in the world to you.

Ben sees it then - Homelander might not be your son by birth, but he is by circumstance.

You love him with all your heart.

“Don't be silly and get upset with Ben,” you continue. “He's just asking me questions about my time at the lab. Of course, I'll get a little sad; they’re painful memories, but it's fine, honestly. He loves you very much; he wouldn't ask me if he didn't. He wants to make sure I'm good enough for you.”

Homelander looks back at Ben, his eyes filled with regret, “I'm sorry, Ben. I'm just so…”

“Protective,” Ben finishes. “I know you are, Johnny. I'm sorry too, I just had all these questions and…”

“Ask them,” you respond. “Ask them all.”

It’s late.

Ben should have been snuggled up in bed with Homelander, but he couldn’t sleep until he did one final thing. 

He knocks on your door, rocking his heels while waiting on your porch, his hands clasping something behind his back. The hallway light turns on, the locks unlock, and the door opens a little, revealing your face. 

You quickly undo the locks, almost throwing open the door and grabbing Ben by the biceps, your face filled with worry

“Ben! Is everything okay?” Your voice trembles. “Are you hurt? Is John hurt? Has something happened?”

“No,” Ben splutters out. 

The worry melts away into a warm expression, and you happily welcome him again, only for Ben to stop you in the hall. He doesn’t want to go further; this is only a flying visit.

“I just came by, and I wanted to give you something,” he says, handing you a gift hastily wrapped in brown paper and string. He waits with bated breath as you open it.

Your eyes well up, and tears slowly fall down your cheeks as you cover your mouth with your hand, the other trembling while you hold the photograph.

It’s Ben and Homelander, sitting on the couch in Homelander’s penthouse with smiles on their faces. A private and tender moment captured forever and sealed in a simple frame. It’s clear from your reaction that this means a lot to you.

“Oh, Ben, this is wonderful,” you say, reaching out to grab his forearm. “Thank you so much. It’s going right on the mantle.”

“I’m sorry for earlier.”

“Nonsense.” The look in your eyes shows that this parental love extends to Ben. “You’re just looking out for John, and I appreciate that—truly, I do. He has some wounds that run very deep, those that will never heal and leave everlasting scars. I can only do so much. But he has you to help him through the pain.”

Ben wraps his arms around you, burying his face in your hair and softly sobbing. He feels silly for being so anxious about you and your intentions, but despite your past misdeed, you have the purest heart.

And you loving John as a parent loves a son is enough for Ben.

[azaliyas]

summary : after studying the guitar since you were a kid, you were now ready to start a band and let your music be known to the big public. thanks to an online announcement you posted, you found him as your bandmate.

word count : [ to be added later ]

genre : modern au, fluff.

cw / tw : mentions of drinking.

characters : 6reeze boys.

note : had to change the order because of the way i keep my posts in order, sorry for the inconvenience ^^;

aether — the keyboardist

if you had to describe aether in one word, it would have been "puppy", always so cheerful and easy-going. it was easy to befriend him after you guys met for the first time for a trial rehearsal and see if you two could work well together. his friendly and kind personality had you, too, smile brightly at him. and that pulled his heartstrings in a way he had never experienced before.

his slender fingers, you were sure of that, were blessed with a talent and a discipline you have seen in such a few people it was more unique than rare. the keyboard really came to life whenever he played, each note an arrow going straight to your fans' hearts. he had this natural charm that draw people to him to watch closer, and staying to have more.

aether was kind with everyone, but with you, he was such a gentleman, always ready to come to your aid even outside your music business. he was your dearest friend, the person you held in high regard, and the same was for him. he couldn't help the fondness in his voice when talking about you, be it with his friends or fans he met in the streets, a special kindness enveloped your name every time it left his lips.

of course, fans were quick to catch up on it and start spreading the "y/n x aether" agenda, heart-shaped eyes looking at every little interaction between you and the blonde guy, be it off stage or, more often, on stage, when his golden eyes were glued on your form, following you around, his voice soft and tender while singing his parts.

ah, but it was such a shame you didn't notice any of this. how wonderful would it have been, dating you, call you his significant other, his lover, the one he oh so tenderly loved and cherished... but that had to wait. he had to make you aware of his feelings in a less direct way first in order to see if you too felt the same way as him. but until then, he was happy even with just holding you close to his chest after another night of successful concerts, sleeping soundly on his lap.

just wait a little longer for him, will you?

heizou — the dj

you weren't exactly a fan of electronic music or whatever kind they played in nightclubs and similar places, but after meeting heizou, you had a change of heart.

the maroon-haired guy was like a tornado, strong and passionate and unstoppable when his mind was set on something. and that something was forming a duo with you and have your music climbing the charts. he surely was ambitious, but you didn't mind, he got the spirits and that was what was important to you.

with heizou's influence your music grew artistically and in terms of listeners on the major streaming platforms, thanks to his fame as an already well-known dj and a few semi-important collabs he had. from covers to mix-ups to original music, your virtual library grew exponentially. you two featured in many playlists, sometimes even those ai-generated, or the most mainstream ones along with much more famous artists. and you were the center of it.

heizou did whatever was in his power to have you in the spotlight, always talking so fondly of you fans couldn't help it but start shipping you two. and how could they not, when every single damn occasion was as good for him to mention your name.

but you were pretty dense, weren't you? thinking it was just for advertising purposes, his shameless flirting for you, but if he did that only with you, then why weren't you catching on his attempts?

a shame, truly, because you two looked so good together, have it in real life or in the numerous pics of you guys circulating on the internet. but fret not, heizou was confident you would eventually fall for him one day, he could have you in his arms even in a romantic sense, and not only literally, like right now, while he was carrying you in your bedroom after he found you asleep on the couch of your shared apartment.

working late into the night wasn't for you, you know?

kazuha — the bassist

the first time you met kazuha, the impression he left you was quite strong despite his calm, comforting aura. maybe it was right because of that aura of his, such an opposite to his on-stage self, wild and crazy, a side of him only during concerts you were able to see. his fingers were rough on the bass chords, plucking them with harsh strength to keep up with the exciting and fast music you composed together, going so far he had to wear bandages to avoid hurting his fingers.

off-stage, on the other hand, kazuha usually kept to himself, notebook and pen by his side, writing poetry and lyrics. having him around you was like walking on the clouds, feeling so warm and comfortable. and he felt the same with you, so of course your relationship bloomed outside of music, becoming friends.

the white-haired boy was such a softie he had you cooing over him like most of your fans, although they did so both for him and for the romantic relationship they thought you guys were in. and no one could blame them to think so, with how kazuha seemed to have eyes for you only, or with how he was glued to your hip when on stage, foreheads pressed together while playing, lips inches away with only a microphone stopping him from kissing you — the crowd surely wouldn't have complained.

kazuha didn't hide the bluntness of his feelings, but he never explicitly said he was in love with you either. it was in the loving embrace you were always welcomed in, the gentle touches of his fingers littering on your skin, in the quiet voice whispering sweet nothings in your ear while asleep, hoping to give you pleasant dreams.

one day, kazuha told himself, he would have been able to tell you such words while you were awake, not sleeping clinging to his side, hands around his waist and one of his was in your soft hair.

one day, his muse shall know the truth.

venti — the singer

although venti wasn't exactly your usual rock singer, he quickly adapted to your style, but so you did to his. this perfect molding brought you two leaning towards a kind of rock music with classical and ballad influences, creating quite the sub-genre per se. and your growing fans seemed to particularly appreciate such fresh and new stuff.

over the years venti grew quite fond of you and viceversa, so much you two became each other's closest friend. your chemistry was something you didn't get to experience every day, and whoever got to know you and him knew that at first glance.

he was a playful and flirty friend, bringing that same behaviour on stage, knowing way too well it had your fans swooning over him — or maybe on you two, since this flirty behaviour of his was mostly directed at you. arm snaking around you, or cheeks pressed together, or foreheads resting on each other, the boy always managed to have contact with you while his sweet voice echoed in the hall along your guitar. touchy, but you didn't mind, that was his persona after all.

or wasn't it?

off stage venti was calmer, but still always seeking your companionship, almost as if you were his cuddly teddy bear. what you didn't know was that it was his way to have you close, to push away those who tried to flirt with you, to satiate the love he had for you.

yes, venti loved you, dearly, deeply, but most of all quietly. he knew you saw him as a friend only, a dear one, but a friend nonetheless. this knowledge had his heart ache, but he was resolute in not letting you know about his feelings, ever. otherwise, he feared he wouldn't have been able to hold you like this, your head in the crook of his neck and his arms around your waist as you slept, ever again.

you were everything, he couldn't possibly let you go.

wanderer — the drummer

kunikuzushi, known as "scaramouche" (from his previous membership in another band) or "wanderer" (adopted for his solo career), wasn't actually the bandmate you would normally expect. sure, he was one hella good of a drummer and his previous fame helped yours skyrocketing, but except for this he wasn't particularly inclined in dealing with you outside music business.

of course, you weren't expecting to become best friend with the indigo-haired boy, but at least a relationship of close acquaintances was the least, in your opinion. you thought that his "bad boy" persona was just a facade for the fans, but his coldness toward you sometimes had you second guessing.

all of this changed whenever you two were inside the studio or, more often, on the stage. there, kunikuzushi seemed to turn into a totally different person. his deep and raw voice would draw your attention to him, eyes locked together singing at the top of your lungs, music blasting all around you.

what you didn't know, however, was that kuni held such contrasting behaviours toward you for a single, simple, yet stupid reason: he was in love with you. a deep, warming love that swelled in the depths of his heart, away from your knowledge.

loving you inspired him to write those tooth-rooting kind of songs you seemed to like, but they were too obvious regarding your persona to be sang in front of a crowd. he poured his heart in those lyrics, they were personal, for him only — no, not even you.

all the years he spent wearing that stupid "bad boy" mask convinced him he was, indeed, not good enough for a serious relationship so, how could he enter one with you?it was better to leave you alone, but your figure sleeping soundly by his side after another night of concerts, snuggling against him for warmth in that cool night, was giving him a hard time doing so.

you were such a temptation.

xiao — the guitarist

when posting that announcement for a band member, surely you didn't think you'd meet "alatus", a guitarist with a well-known reputation on the underground scene.

xiao was a guy around your age, not particularly expressive but with an impressive knack for music. all of his emotions and feelings were poured into the lyrics he wrote for your band. yours to write was the melody for his words.

this partnership of yours was quite fruitful as, even with you two leaning more onto the underground scene, the virality of your music earned you guys quite the fame even on the mainstream side. and not only because of the excellent and expressive music you and xiao produced.

many of your fans actually shipped you guys really hard because, according to them, the chemistry between you and xiao was one of a kind, more unique than rare. whenever there was a short video of you two back to back, playing the shit out of your guitars, heads leaning on each other's shoulder as the music took over you, your fans would be squirming in place, giggling and kicking their feet.

you, on the other hand, didn't quite understand their excitement. sure, over the years you and xiao spent together had become friends and got to know each other pretty well, not only to find a chemistry to be able to work together, but also because you really enjoyed having the black-and-teal-haired boy by your side. you considered xiao a dear friend, too dense to notice his eyes softening whenever they were on you.

how could you not notice his eyes sparkling when smiling for you, those tiny but genuine smiles only you could pull out of him? or his thoughtfulness about you even outside work, well behind the care a normal friend would have for you?

he sighed to himself, thinking that, one day, he will confess to you and have you two being a couple even outside the band. but for now he was happy like this, your head resting on his lap, knocked out cold after your usual post-show drinks.

what a lightweight you were.

© azaliyas 2023 do not copy repost translate or feed to ai

[sadhours]

scumbag blues 3: turnin on the screw

gator tillman x f!oc

previous chapter • masterlist

cw: 18+ minors dni, misogyny, sex work, smut, oral (f receiving), p in v, unprotected, facial, slapping, spitting

🤍🤍🤍🤍

Low thumping can be heard outside the bars doors, some crooning old country song plays muffled within the sticky walls of The Esquire Club. Daisy had a slow day. Every day has been slow lately. It’s about time to start picking up shifts at The Tender Trap again. The men of Stark County are being stingy or their wives are onto them. Or worse, they’ve grown bored of the easiest blonde in town. So here she’s resorted to showing up to the diviest bar in Dickinson, in hopes to make a couple bucks.

Inside The Esquire Club is dark, dim and buzzing bulbs placed like they meant for it to be hard to see. Drunk folk don’t see so well anyhow. Above the bar, there’s a fishing line hanging up a row of bras like a perverted string of Christmas lights. Not a single other vagina in this place, it’s the first thing she notices when she walks in. Which has Daisy seeing dollar signs. Imagines them above each balding head. Counts twenty of ‘em.

She smells like sweat and cheap perfume, cleaned the whole Inn with her ears peeled for that familiar ring of a bell that never came. Scrubbed the bathrooms with a toothbrush. Ironed every pair of sheets in the building. Then her Pops went to bed and Daisy changed into her sluttiest dress and cowgirl boots. Sprayed on some perfume a client gave her. Touched her makeup and walked the five blocks down to the bar. Thursday night. Means pool, she knows it’s busy.

Daisy sits up on a stool and shimmies out of her lace cardigan, tossing it up on the bar along with her purse. Another present from a client, worn at the strap. She’s certain it was purchased at the Walmart on the other side of town. The bartender smiles at her, doesn’t reach his eyes as he asks, “What’re ya drinking, sweetheart?”

“A Pabst,” she smiles, “Shot of whiskey and a pack of Marlboros. Lights.”

“You got it,” he taps the bar with his fingers before he mosies on to the end of the bar, opening up the drawer of cigarette cartons. Daisy digs in her purse for her wallet, pulling a crisp twenty from the pocket and places it on the bar, trades it for a black plastic ashtray.

The gentlemen places the pack of smokes in front of her, complimentary matches on top and slides over the bottle of beer. Pours her a shot of cheap whiskey and takes the bill. “Rest is for you, darlin’,” Daisy tells him as she tears the cellophane of the cigarette box and pulls one out, pressing the filter to her lips.

She feels eyes on her, waits for the fish to take the bait. This town knows her, knows what she is. She can’t figure out why they’re not barreling over with money in their fists. She lights the smoke and inhales deeply, missing the taste like nothing else. Daisy only smokes when she’s out. Scared that her papa would find out. She’s halfway done with the cigarette and still no one approaches her. It’s worrying, usually doesn’t take this long. Daisy pulls out her phone, aimlessly scrolls through different apps until she’s finished the smoke. Alright, looks like she’s gonna have to be more obvious. She downs the shot, chases it with a gulp of beer and turns to take in her options.

Then she feels a hand on the small of her back and lips on her ear. Thank God. She’s relieved, until she hears the most familiar voice purring, “Daisy Tallulah Way, what the hell are you doing in a place like this?”

She whips around to look at Gator, narrowing her eyes. He’s still in his vest. Seems to wear it all the time, like he’s never off duty or something. Tight white shirt underneath, biceps swelling underneath and Daisy’s gotta remind herself why she’s here. And how Gator’s discount puts it at the bottom of the list right now. Saved for desperation, if she can’t find someone else.

“Advertising, asshole. Would you get lost?” she bites back and turns back around, flipping her hair in his face.

Gator scoffs and then laughs, Daisy can’t help but face him again. He’s got this smug look on his face when he says, “Business been slow for ya?”

Looks like he has something to do with it. Daisy takes a deep breath, “Yeah, Gator. You been too busy running around for your daddy. Almost like you’re paying him for some ass, now.”

His face contorts in disgust and then he laughs, loud and deep as he takes a seat next to her.

“Gator, I’m not kidding. Fuck off, you’re gonna scare ‘em all away,” Daisy seethes at him, brow furrowed.

“Aw, don’t worry,” he shrugs, “I got a feeling no one’s gonna bite tonight. Besides, aren’t ya curious why I ain’t been around?”

“No,” she replies, reaching for the pack of cigarettes again. Though, she really is. She’s actually missed Gator. Besides, even with his discount and all, she’s down $1000 since he’s been awol. Not to mention, she hasn’t had an orgasm in two weeks.

“Shame,” Gator pouts his lips, “Here I thought you liked me.”

“Can’t stand you unless you pay me to,” Daisy rolls her eyes as she lights up another cigarette.

“Donny!” Gator calls, “Stark County Sheriff’s Deputy walks in and you forget how to do your fucking job?”

The bartender stops mid conversation with a patron as he stares back at Gator, grinds his molars something fierce before grabbing the bottle of Jack and walks back down to Gator’s end of the bar. Pours him a shot, leaves the bottle and sarcastically quips, “Sorry, your majesty.”

Daisy hates the way Gator’s power goes straight to her pussy. Hates the way he owns this fucking town. And especially hates the excitement she feels when he talks like that to people. She doesn’t get it. It’s not daddy issues like everyone says. Earl’s the best father anyone could have. But something has to cause the attraction she has to Gator’s general assholery. Perhaps she’s just stupid. It’s crossed her mind before.

Gator downs the shot and grimaces, “I’m courtin’ someone.”

It’s a knife in her heart. Deep and twists around. Though, it shouldn’t be. Gator told Daisy so many times how he wouldn’t ever date her, how she’s tainted, how his wife has to be pure and Daisy’s anything but pure. Forgets he paid her to take his virginity on his fucking eighteenth birthday. Made her promise not to tell anyone the fucking all star quarterback was a virgin. And it wasn’t like Gator couldn’t get it for free. There was a reason he showed up at the Inn that day. She’s been trying to figure out what that is since that day.

“Good for you,” she rolls her eyes, swiping the bottle of Jack and pouring herself a shot from it. Takes it with a straight face and turns away from Gator.

“She just transferred from Fargo. Works at the station,” he continues, arms on the bar top.

“I don’t care. I seriously need you to like, go anywhere else. I’m working,” Daisy says without turning to him.

“Yeah, I don’t think anyone’s gonna solicit you for sex when I’m sitting here,” Gator sucks in a breath between clenched teeth. Daisy closes her eyes before she turns to him.

He smiles, biting his lower lip as she gives him her full attention. She wants to smack him across the face but she knows Gator likes that, so she won’t do it unless he pays her. She knows all his dirty, kinky little secrets so why is she letting him have all the power here? Because Gator can just as quickly turn it on her, arrest her and tell her dad just exactly what she does for a living.

“Tell me about her,” she says, stubbing out her cigarette in the ashtray.

He smiles, licking his lips as he drums his fingers against the bartop, “Name’s Faye. Smokeshow. Innocent as hell. Virgin, I’m pretty sure. Just took her home, had a nice date.”

“So it’s just been you and your hand the last two weeks… huh,” it’s Daisy’s turn to smile smug.

“Yeah…” Gator looks pensive suddenly, like he hadn’t thought about that. “She’s uh… not gonna offer none of that up unless she’s got a ring, I’m assuming.”

“Shame,” Daisy pouts, tilting her head. “I put out on the first date.”

“Why buy the cow when you can have the milk for free?” Gator argues and Daisy can’t hold back her laugh.

“Gator, honey, you been buying the milk. It ain’t free,” she pats his bicep, shaking her head with a bright smile. Gator scowls.

“You know what I mean.”

Daisy nods, still smiling, “Just ‘cause you’re in the market for a cow, don’t mean you can’t get some milk when ya need it. In fact, most the men buying my milk have a cow at home. But my milk is better. And who’s to say, Gator, that when you get that cow, that her milk’s not sour? Best to sample the milk before you buy the cow.”

“Dumb analogy,” Gator mumbles, defeated as he reaches over for Daisy’s beer and takes a swig.

“So I can expect ya back soon?” Daisy giggles, leaning against Gator’s bicep.

“Finish your beer, you can give me some of that milk at home,” Gator sighs.

—

Daisy’s been in Gator’s bedroom before. She’s helped him feed his snake before. But they were younger. Hasn’t been here in years. It’s quiet. Lonely. She knows he’s mostly alone here. Figures that’s why he’s at the inn several times a week. Likes the company more than the sex.

“Here,” he hands her a glass, full halfway of whiskey.

She takes it, sips slowly as she sits on the edge of his bed and looks around. It’s not changed at all since she’d been here last. Gator changes in front of her, into some pajama pants and a worn shirt. Hands her another to wear. She puts the glass on his metal nightstand and kicks her boots off. This is weird. Like he wants her to sleep over. It’s a long drive to the Inn but she doesn’t understand why he didn’t just take her there. Daisy pulls her dress up and over her head, exposing her matching lingerie set underneath. Gator lips quirk the side when he sees it. Smoothes his fingers against her thigh as he admires her body.

“Sexy,” he hums.

“Told ya, I was advertising,” she giggles.

“Reds a good color on you,” he mumbles, “almost a shame to take it off ya.”

“Then don’t,” Daisy replies, biting her lip, “Fuck me in it.”

Gator licks his teeth, “As tempting as that is…” he lifts the worn shirt he handed her, “I wanna fuck you in nothing but this.”

Daisy meets his beautiful brown irises, the look in his eyes takes the air from her lungs. Tender, almost. Something only Gator gives her, though it’s fleeting. He reaches behind her and unclasps her bra, then trails his fingers down to the lacy thong holding her hips and drags them down her thighs. She kicks them off and Gator lowers himself between her legs, on his knees at the floor. He spreads her knees and squeezes them, “Put my shirt on.”

Daisy pulls it over her head, letting Heather gray cotton fall down her chest as she loops her arms in it. Gator wraps his fingers around the backs of her knees and pulls her closer to the edge. Her head is swimming, no man has ever eaten her out and it seems like that’s where Gator’s going with this. He bites at her thigh, looking up at her with desire blown eyes. Gator looks so… pretty like this. His hair slicked back, soft clothes. Sleep clothes. Tender. Domestic. God, maybe all he wanted was this. Daisy wishes she could drop everything and give him exactly that. But Gator doesn’t ever pay for the girlfriend fantasy. Has he secretly wanted it?

Daisy smooths her hand over his head, attempting to mess up his gelled locks. “You look nice down there,” she whispers, cheeks flushing.

“Yeah? Should I be down between your legs more often?” He chuckles.

“Please,” she pleads.

Gator bites her thigh as he squeezes the other ones, “Maybe you oughta be paying me then.”

“Might have to if you’re any good at it,” Daisy quips.

Gator hums and plants sloppy kisses up her thigh until his mouth is dangerously close to her cunt. Daisy can feel his breath against her sex, her hips jerking toward him. Gator licks a broad stroke up her slit and she moans, a sound of surprise and pleasure. His tongue is firm and wonderfully soft at the same time. Gator treats her pussy like her mouth, makes out with it with fervor. Licking, kissing and sucking until Daisy’s rutting up against his face, leg hooked up on his shoulder and fingers ruining his slicked back hair. His nose brushes against her clit as he fucks her hole with his tongue.

“Gator! Oh, god,” she cries out, falling back against the mattress as she writhes in ecstasy. It’s a feeling like no other. Euphoria filling her veins, orgasm building rather quickly as Gator’s tongue files through her folds and flicks against her bundle of nerves. Wraps his lips around her clit and sucks, head nodding into the motion and Daisy’s practically weeping. Thighs against Gator’s ears, grinding up against his face. It’s soaking wet, her pussy absolutely drenched in slick and Gator’s saliva. Feels it dripping down to her asshole.

“Gonna— holy fuck, Gator!” she shrieks, her hands shoving his face against her cunt as her orgasm hits her like a train. She seizes, squeezing his head with her thighs as the waves of euphoria wash through her violently. “Fuuuck!”

Gator’s like a man starved, she can hear him groaning and moaning against her cunt while he licks and sucks. Finally, her body relaxes. Legs going limp as the grip on Gator is released. She brings her hands to her face as she catches her breath, body flushed the most beautiful pink.

He keeps licking at her sensitive clit and her body almost folds with the sensation, grabbing his head and pulling him back. “Fuck, Gator…”

He jumps up to straddle her, kissing her bruisingly as he grinds against her. He must’ve liked doing that because his cock is so hard, straining in his flannel pajama pants and catching on her spent clit. She whines into the kiss as she wraps her legs around his waist and her arms around his neck. She can taste herself on his tongue, can feel how his chin and cheeks are coated with her slick as he kisses her desperately. She grips his shirt at the hem on his back, pulling it up and over his head, breaking the kiss for a second while her fingers move to feel through the hair on his chest.

“Gonna pay me for that?” he mumbles against her lips, she can feel his turning up in a smile and she giggles back.

“God, I need the money but I can’t fucking take yours after that,” she replies, muffled against his mouth.

Gator laughs into her mouth as he grabs her hands and pins them above her head, lacing their fingers. “We can work out a deal,” he mumbles, grinding down on her, “I need something from you.”

“Fuck me, please,” she purrs, head still fuzzy and god damnit… she might be in love with this fucker. “Wanna make you feel like I do.”

Gator moans, pulling back so he can step off the bed. He pushes his pajama pants and briefs down, cock bouncing out and Daisy eyes it like it’s the only thing she’ll ever need. She sits up, grabbing Gator’s face and pulling him back into another heated kiss.

“S’cute… thinking I need your pussy,” Gator laughs into her mouth, “You gotta give me more about this Campbell fella…”

“Gator… I gave you all I could…” she mumbles back, reaching for his ass to pull him closer.

“Call him,” Gator purrs back, “Let’s set him up.”

Daisy’s dizzy on Gator. She’ll do anything for him so she says yes, hands tangled in his slicked back. She typically doesn’t make house calls but for Gator she will. And she’s in his bed anyways.

“Okay,” she pants, “fuck me and I’ll do anything.”

“Knew you would,” he purrs, running the head of his cock through her folds, “Just a greedy little cockslut, ain’t ya?”

Daisy would agree with anything at the moment, whatever it takes to get Gator’s thick, long cock inside her. She nods eagerly, wrapping her legs around his waist and Gator drags his cock back down, catching the head on her hole and he sinks in with an excruciating slowness. Lets Daisy feel every inch sheathing inside her welcoming cunt. They both release sounds of pleasure, Gator’s a low grunt and Daisy’s a high pitched whine. Once he’s balls deep, he strokes her cheekbone with his thumb. Then, he steadies his palm against her flushed cheek and in time with a snap of his hips, he slaps Daisy’s face. Her eyes widen, looking up at him stunned. Another rule of hers is broken but in this state, she can’t yell at him. Her cunt clenches around him as she squirms, surprising herself as she demands, “Again.”

Gator obliges, eyebrows rising as his lips quirk into a smirk. His palm collides with her cheek again, harder than before and he grabs hold of her jaw afterward. Thrusting wildly, he forces her mouth open and spits down into it. Daisy swirls his saliva around her tongue, playing with it and feels her body shiver as Gator’s eyes darken with lust. He forces her jaw closed and seethes behind clenched molars, “Swallow it, bitch.”

Daisy gulps it down, moving her hands to his biceps and squeezing them between her manicured nails. Next, Gator’s hand travels down around her neck and he holds her tightly. Restricting her breathing as he drills his hips into her at a remarkable pace. Fucks Daisy like he’s angry at her, even looks like it as his eyes narrow and his brows furrow, mouth tight. Her eyes roll back in her head as pleasure takes over her body, coil tightening in her stomach as a second orgasm threatens to break her. Gator’s cockhead pummels her g-spot with a steady tempo, the perfect rhythm to get her over the edge. And as she’s about to jump over it, Gator stills. Tightens his grip on her throat as he bares his teeth, Daisy’s eyes flying open to catch it.

“You’re nothing but a fucking hole to me,” he spits out, “Understand?”

Sure, it stings but she was so close and she just needs him to go back to that beautiful pace he’d set. So she nods her head, dropping her hands from his arms and grabbing onto his sheets as she attempts to roll her hips up at him. Gator grunts, grabs hold of her thighs and holds them up before resuming the brutal thrusts that knock the air out of Daisy’s lungs. A long, breathless moan erupts from her as her eyes flutter shut again.

It doesn’t take her long, flying off the edge and howling Gator’s name as she goes. Screams so loud her voice goes hoarse, body shaking underneath him as her bliss rips through her senses. Gator follows suit, pulling out and inching up her body as he jerks himself a couple of times before he’s shooting his load over his face. Makes a whimpering, sweet noise as he does it. Daisy wipes his cum up with her fingers, bringing them to her mouth and sucks his spunk off them. He collapses next to her, breathing hard as his hand pats her stomach.

Daisy sits up, looks over at him and sighs, “Alright. Drive me back home.”

“I ain’t driving,” he mumbles, “Just sleep here.”

Just a fucking hole yet she’s spending the night in his bed.

—

The next morning, Gator makes her breakfast. It’s odd but there’s a stack of cash on the table. She assumes it’s hers. Pockets it as she sits down and looks up at him, “Breakfast for a hooker. You know that’s not necessary, right?”

Gator drops a plate in front of her, “Shut up and eat.”

She laughs softly before digging in, humming around the hashbrowns on her fork. Gator sits down across from her, starts to stuff his face when Roy bursts through the door. Gives Daisy a look before he quips, “Didn’t know working girls make house calls.”

“We don’t,” Daisy replies, tilting her head at Gator as she waits for the excuse to come from him.

“We’re setting up Campbell,” he grumbles through his eggs.

“Don’t bother,” Roy pats his sons shoulder, “I got a tip, we gotta go. Take your hooker home and meet me at The Tender Trap.”

“Kinda early for strippers,” Gator frowns, tilting his head.

Roy blinks at him, eyebrows raised as he glances between the pair, “You don’t seem to think it’s too early to pay for sex, you have the right to judge a man paying for the illusion?”

“Is it even open at 9 am?”

“No,” Daisy answers, avoiding Roy’s eyes as she continues to eat. Roy scoffs and nudges his son.

“Let’s get a move on, Romeo.”

Gator sighs and stands, grabbing his and Daisy’s plates before dropping them in the sink. In his cruiser, he tells her, “You can’t come to the house anymore.”

“You brought me there,” she defends herself and Gator scowls. The rest of the ride is silent. Her dads on the porch of the Inn. He gives Daisy a knowing look as she hurries up to the house.

“Sleepover with the deputy?” He smiles, “That boy is courting you, ain’t he?”

“No,” she smiles to her dad, turns and flips the bird to Gator before rushing inside.

[beesmygod]

oh, so. there's this story thats semi-local to my hometown that ive been keeping up on via the reno subreddit. ive been gawking at it from afar in wonder bc i didnt know people could make this many bad decisions on purpose.

joey gilbert was a boxer who was forced to retire bc he's a cheating bitch who was roiding up and doing meth before fights. the list of drugs in his system would scatter an average human's atoms like dust.

as a shining example of the kind of education i paid for: joey gilbert graduated from my alma mater, UNR, with an english degree and then passed the nevada bar using a law degree gained from a diploma mill that is no longer accredited. so now gilbert practices law. this is the advertisement that greets you when you get off the plane at reno/tahoe airport.

every time i see this i want to laugh my ass off. the vague use of meme formatting even though he doesn't understand the conventions of an impact font meme. he has the dead doll eyes described by clint in jaws. he looks like if lowtax attended his own funeral. there's no phone number or website. google me bitch.

anyway, that's not the point. gilbert evidently fried what was left of his tenderized boxer brain with speed and has tried to fashion himself as the VIP in douglas county/vegas conservative circles. i guess he fits right in because they willingly embraced him. he was at the jan 6 riot and will loudly espouse basically any belief as long as hes getting paid. he tried to run for gov and lost the primary by over 20k votes. somehow he claims this is election fraud. he has yet to explain the mechanisms that would explain how douglas county and its republican chapter manufactured over 20000 votes for a republican primary without anyone noticing during a time when election fraud is a hot button topic, all because they feared that the guy they test research chemicals on was a legitimate threat.

hold up my bad. actually gilbert says HE won by over 50000 and the city of las vegas is suppressing the results. his case was thrown out and he was fined 88k for wasting everyone's time.

okay now: in july of 2023 (insane link btw lol. they keep saying shit like "yeah i did that. problem, bitch?",) the conservative douglas county board of trustees had a bitch fit over their lawyer, who has been in the position for over 20 years, for refusing to enforce a transgender sports ban. in an act of retaliation he was fired by a narrow vote and replaced with........

JOEY GILBERT!!!!!!!!

pros of this exchange:

cons of this exchange: he costs more, has no formal law education, the ACLU is going to rip them a new hole, its now october and he has charged the school district an eye-watering 100k in two months. the previous firm charged 18k a month.

in response, the board of trustees is convening in order to fire......the superintendent who has been in the position for 30 years bc he was against gilbert from the start.

nevada is so dedicated to being number 50 in the nation. its honestly heartwarming to think that even the dumbest, toothless hick can make it there by simply lying nonstop. thats the american way, baby!

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[sandglass-art]

I just discovered your beautiful Neji x Gaara art and I was hooked immediately! That's hard to do because I've been so heavily shipping Gaara with someone else that I didn't think I had it in me to ship Gaara again with someone new.

But this pair?? It's got so much potential!! And I cannot believe I am just now discovering your this rare pair and your art.

Have you thought about doing fanart for Boruto-era Gaara with Neji (he lives AU)? Neji would be so handsome and would be a great father to Shinki.

Hi! Oh my God, do you know that these are the coolest words when someone falls in love with your peering? No, seriously! It's simply impossible to get a stronger compliment. I'm really glad to read this, really! And yes, you're absolutely right, this is a very rare pair. Once I tried to write fan-fictions to somehow fill it. To be honest, I write fragments to the table from time to time and now)

This couple really has a huge potential. Of course, Kishimoto wasn't going to bring them together in any way, but it's nice to try to catch moments from the anime where they can interact. How they look at each other on the exam. How closely Gaara watches Neji. And at the moment of his battle with his sister, he begins to tremble, and Temari notices: "oh no, he is already trembling with excitement." And yes, I understand the message that Gaara is looking for a strong opponent and good blood, and Neji is a great fit. But it still catches him, even so. And the fact that Neji, being from an aristocratic family, with Gaara not to use any suffixes at all even when he becomes a Kazekage. About the selection by Gaara Neji for appointment immediately two ranks higher, you can compose a lot of off-screen stories. And the fact that, on the instructions of the Neji clan often performed missions for Suna alone (as mentioned in the anime), is also nice.

And in general, I really like their interaction (and thought out too). I see them as a couple as allies. Not lovers, but allies. This word suits them better. They are both strong guys, separately significant for society and successful. They will not talk about tenderness and love. Instead, they will show it as much as possible in support, care, sacrifice. They will always stand by each other's side, but in private they can say “you're wrong. You are acting like a fool." This is a strong union. They understand each other and communicate with their eyes: Gaara himself was silent for a long time, I'm sure he reads emotions well. Well, Neji's noticing byakugan is not worth talking about, I think he also perfectly captures small changes. And both are far from stupid.

I guess I lose a lot by not romanticizing them too much. For me, it is considered romantic in their pair training, where you can nail one of them to the ground. Exhausted, in the dust, but contented even with defeat. They will definitely never get married. I don't see that kind of opportunity in the Naruto world at all. For me, they generally do not advertise their relationship. Even if it was accepted in society, it would not be Gaara with the title of Kazekage to mess with it. And not Neji - a brilliant descendant of one of the most respected clans of Konoha. That's probably why I never imagined Neji alive and a father to Shinki. I want the characters to be happy. But with age, it would be more difficult for them to defend their relationship when the clan and title expect something different from you, and the traditions and influence of your actions on others are so strong. To some extent, Neji's death fits me with the fact that Gaara still did not marry. He lost a very important person for himself, but could not betray him even after that. The appearance of Shinki gives a new round in his life, he can finally afford to love and live for someone, while not betraying the memory of Neji. But yes, I'm sure Neji would be great in Boruto)

PS. I love glass in a relationship and dislike it at the same time. For a very long time I want to draw the moment when Gaara sees the corpse of Neji after the war. This story is very vivid and stays in my head for a long time. But I seem to be afraid of him. I'm afraid to draw not as strong as it should be. And I'm afraid to bring this plot into their couple. Once I wrote a story about the two of them, where throughout the whole story I was sure of the ending, when Gaara would have to die. This would be a very logical and necessary outcome. He deserved it. This would also be a strong point. But I couldn't do it. I love this couple too much. What to say: this pair appeared for me somewhere in 2009 and to this day remains the only ship for me. That's why it means so much to me when someone gets into it too.

Thank you for your question and the opportunity to pronounce all these words)

[ramblingsofaculinarystudent]

An Ode To Baked Beans

I grew up in rural New England: everyone had scrap piled up on their lawn where I was from, the churches all smelled like a cabinet from 1968 that hadn't been touched since then, everyone was obsessed with Loony Tunes...for some reason...and we had something called Bean Suppers. Every church during a specific time in Autumn would hoist out their letter boards advertising that the little, blue haired ladies of the church's Ladies Parlour were going to dig out their earthen ware bean pots and argue amongst each other as to how much brown sugar needed to be added for the best beans, or what types of beans cooked the best. The memory of going into a church's basement, smelling the earthy, smoky smell of baked beans wafting through the room, and being served a heaping pile of beans, cooked veggies, and a slice of buttered Canadian White bread on fine china still lingers in my mind.

However, these dinners are going extinct, especially thanks to COVID. I'm half-devastated that I will never take my children to a baked bean supper, at least until further notice (also because I don't have kids). Baked Beans are a staple of New England and Appalachian cooking: it's hearty, it has a lot of protein, and they taste damn good. More people should eat beans, and I'm not saying that because I've been pining for baked beans for the last 10 months: they're really tasty, trust me.

So, here's a simple baked beans recipe.

Baked Beans (at 325 degrees Fahrenheit)

2 Cups Navy or Yellow eye beans. This depends on who you ask.

1/2 lb salt pork/leaf lard/bacon

1 onion, diced. Or, if you want to do it like my family does, just slice it and separate the strips.

3 TBSP Molasses

2 TSP Salt

Pepper to taste

1/2 Cup Ketchup

1/4 TSP Dried Mustard, powdered

1 TBSP Worcestershire Sauce

1/4 Cup (dark) Brown Sugar.

Soak the beans overnight in water, preferably cold water, but room temp is also appropriate. Drain and reserve leftover liquid. Arrange your beans in layers, with salt pork and onion in between the layers of beans. Combine molasses, ketchup, salt, pepper, mustard, Worcestershire, and brown sugar in a saucepan and heat, stirring out any lumps. Cover beans in sauce, and then cover the sauced beans with reserved water. Cook in an oven preheated to 325 for 3-4 hours, or until beans are tender. Serve with a piece of buttered bread and green beans as soon as they come out of the oven.

[dadsbongos]

chapter 3.5 - the detention breakout

i deleted the gott damn image file for this chapter. FUCK

1.3K words

warnings - you use a womens' club pitch to get a MAN out of detention

prev. chapter / masterlist / next chapter

Eddie Munson sits between a girl stoned out of her mind, eyes half-lidded and drinking from her water bottle every five seconds, and a boy working on assignments he recognizes from the first week of Ms. O’Donnell’s class. Even Eddie wasn’t that late on his work, he honestly had to commend the kid.

This week’s detention was because Eddie had put up posters advertising Corroded Coffin in the cafeteria, which he personally believed was bullshit but he guesses that Higgins must be that up to his ass with Eddie lately.

Suddenly, there’s you - like an angel with swift wings, you jerk your head towards the window and bound up to Principal Higgins with an overly delighted, “Sir! I have a new and improved proposal for a Women’s Club - now men can join, too!”

“Please,” he rubs at the tension behind his temple, “not again…”

“Well, just hear me out!” you get Higgins to turn his back to the rest of the class and Eddie takes that as his cue to jump up from his seat and sneak to the large side window, “I know that there’s a lot of girls interested!”

Not that Higgins - or anybody else, really - has to know you and your friends’ Women’s Club is a plan to hang out with other girls interested in girls outside of The Sunset. You imagine that your voice sounds like the screechiest and scratchiest record to Principal Higgins, and to be honest you haven’t prepared anything genuinely argumentative. You never imagined the club you pushed so hard for your junior year would become a ploy to get a boy out of detention.

It’s a little embarrassing.

And just as you get to, “And you don’t even know about the trials and tribulations of periods- !” Higgins braces both hands on your shoulders, “If I say I’ll think about it - will you leave?!”

“Ehhhh,” your eyes drift over his shoulder, “Hmmm…” apparent indecision dragging along until Eddie finally tumbles out of the window, “Yep!”

And you have no doubt that Higgins wasted not a single second even thinking about your Women’s Club.

Similarly, you waste not a single second thinking about Higgins’ response when you’re kneeling before Diane’s old garage and unlocking it for Eddie to come inside. Your hands shake and that makes you feel all the more foolish.

Whether he notices or not, Eddie still speaks up, “This is a huge step forward in our relationship. Crazy shit.”

You finally unclick the lock and pocket the pad before pushing up the metal door, “I know, right? And you haven’t even asked me to be your girlfriend yet.”

He sucks a breath through his teeth, “Low blow,” he ‘tsk’s and shakes his head, “I think you should take charge.”

“But that’s so scary,” you stand before him, just outside the garage.

“Trust me, I know that,” he waits patiently, though.

You didn’t know you needed that. The patience and tenderness.

Still, you roll your eyes, and let him in.

Eddie sees pieces inspired by the eras of Jackson Pollock and pointillism and cubism - one piece, with a big splotch of red paint tossed over the front and you quickly tell him to not mind it. Landscapes from the most recognizable spots in all of Hawkins. Abstract and realistic portraits of men and women with big, curly hair.

Running a hand through his own tangled curls, Eddie can feel something sweeten inside his chest - the warm comfort of knowing you have a type. And then his brows furrow. There were beautiful women painted there, too.

He moves along easily enough - spotting paint you hand-mixed, shades of purples and pinks and oranges and blues.

“I’m gonna paint the interior of The Sunset,” you wring your hands nervously, weight switching between your legs, “Like, on a canvas. Not the walls,” he’s smiling softly, continuing to stare down your paint barrels, “If you even think about throwing that like this is some cheesy little movie, you’re dead to me.”

Instantaneously, his head snaps up to look at you, and the smile grows exponentially wider, “I would never. That sounds like a major pain in the ass to clean.”

“And it’d be obnoxious,” so you reach out and take his hand, guiding him to your little spotted, cat-scratched loveseat at the back of the garage. Hand-sewn pillows and blankets from before Diane spontaneously hated you are strewn across the back of the cushions.

You land on his lap as he sits, his back pressing into the dips of the couch - hands find home on your thighs and yours on his cheeks. He’s soft, yet his hands are firm and hot on your thighs - he can’t be close enough.

“Would you kiss me” you peck his cherry nose, “if I asked nicely?” then each cheek.

“Oh,” he giggles, hands winding tighter around your thighs, “I’d slobber on you if you asked at all. Rudely or nicely.”

“Aren’t you romantic?”

“I know, right?” his hands move up, settling now on the curves of your waist, “Can you hurry up and ask now?”

If you were to suggest he fall to his knees and compliment your shoes, he’s a little scared that he would. All you’d have to do is ask. Rude or nice, as long as it's you.

Across town, Mike Wheeler and Eleven “Jane” Hopper creep out of Enzo’s, hand in hand and twenty bucks poorer. Eleven has a hand over her stomach, “I feel like I could pop.”

Mike adores her bizarre inflections, but he has trouble telling her that - so he doesn’t, “I knew the third round of breadsticks would hurt,” he groans, head tipping back, “But they were so good.”

Eleven wanders off to a nearby payphone, clicking coins into the graffitied slot to call your garage phone - it was useless to hope you were home on a Saturday while Jim was, “My sister and Eddie seem happy,” Mike also adores her little smile, how it widens at your seemingly joyous relationship, “I’m happy for them.”

“Well, good news then,” Mike slides up against the payphone’s blue plastic side, “Eddie is now dating her for real.”

“Oh, that’s wonderful!” Eleven presses the receiver to her ear and Mike has to bring it back slightly.

“There could be infections on it, honey,” he explains.

“Oh,” she mouths, nodding curtly.

“Calling Mama and Papa?” Robin kicks the back of Mike’s knee, snorting when he buckles - bringing around her bike with a shiny bell.

“See you at Family Video tomorrow,” Mike snides, resetting himself against the payphone wall.

“Yeah, whatever,” Robin snatches off the black busboy uniform hat before putting on the cap with Hawkins’ AMC logo printed over the print, “I’ve got another shift to run to - don’t die until your babysitters get here!” she kicks off, pedaling away and blowing a raspberry at the kids when Mike flips her off.

…

“Do you wanna come over tomorrow?” Eddie hates how unsure he feels, he’s never been quite so on edge when courting someone. Not that he’s necessarily courted someone before either. Maybe that’s his problem, “Warning - you might meet Wayne.”

You have to assume it's his uncle, Eddie speaks as if you’re supposed to know the man personally.

“Hell yeah,” you pinch his arm, and from an outside perspective that’s very embarrassing, but Eddie doesn’t mind, “I’d love to meet the man to raise such an upstanding citizen.”

“Wayne can’t wait to put a face to the name I bring up all the time.”

“Aw,” and that’s when Eddie realizes his mistake, “You talk about me? How adorable, Munster!”

“Yeah, whatever,” his cheeks burn red hot and he waves off your teasing, “It’s not a big deal. I talk all the time - I don’t stop talking, baby.”

And he’s expecting another snarky comeback, but you simply watch him drive from the passenger seat. Adoring eyes as he pulls into the Enzo’s parking lot. You feel utterly ridiculous being this giddy over a boy, but when that boy is Eddie - you can hardly be blamed.

[roboticchibitan]

A Cottage Witch and her Dragon 18

(You can read the rest of this story on AO3 here)

It was Monday again, and Serenity was feeling a little blue about the endless weekly cycle of her life. Usually, this didn't bother her. Living a simple life where not much changed besides her daily conversations with her neighbors was usually comforting. Perhaps she was blue about something else, and it was making living a simple life a bit difficult when usually it was a comfort.

Serenity sat at her booth and shivered. Spring was here, but the mornings were still cold. Serenity had been at the market since early morning, setting up long before any of the shops in Valley Commons' market square had opened.

Around nine that morning, Serenity noticed some people loitering outside Maury's chocolate shop. Slowly, more and more people started to gather, forming something like a haphazard queue outside. Serenity saw Liz and Lucy in the line, Lucy chatting excitedly at anyone who happened to be within earshot. Serenity smiled at this, feeling fondness for her little neighbor well up within her.

Serenity and Maury were friendly. Perhaps they weren't good friends, but they enjoyed each other's occasional company either in Serenity's cottage or Maury's apartment above the chocolate shop, drinking tea together and chatting about magic, or their respective business ventures. Dragon looked forward to each visit with unparalleled excitement. He was convinced Marcus, Maury's snake familiar, was the coolest being on the planet.

Serenity hadn't talked to Maury lately, so she wasn't sure what was up, but she figured it he had either advertised a sale, or a new flavor of chocolate. He often rotated the chocolate flavors he offered, and every time there was a new flavor or a returning favorite, a line formed around the building. Serenity would have to hope there was still chocolate left when she closed up shop for the day.

At ten o'clock exactly, James, the young clerk for Maury's Chocolate Shop, opened the door and placed a sign outside that loudly proclaimed "NEW FLAVOR TRY OUR TENDERNESS CHOCOLATE." Then he gestured for the first people in line to enter the shop and went back inside.

The day continued to pass by. Serenity chatted with some of her regulars. Even if they didn't have any intention of buying something that day, this was how news and ideas were spread in Valley Commons. The people were all connected by many things.

Some of these things were bigger, such as social class, shared religion, or shared beliefs. But the important things were smaller. All of the children who ran around the neighborhood had a connection to the man who sold roasted nuts. He gave them his unsold leftovers, because he was a kind man and he saw his own children in their eyes. Poverty makes generosity one of the greatest virtues.

Serenity could see the web of connections between people, if she concentrated. And this web told her that no one was unimportant, and everyone should be treated with kindness and respect, because everyone is connected to every other single person by their shared humanity. This was the first part of the web her teacher had taught her to see.

Even people Serenity considered cruel and unkind had this connection, though sometimes it was less strong. But Serenity's teacher had told her something very wise. Her teacher had not been nurturing, but she was still a very kind person, in her own way. And the wisdom she passed onto Serenity was this: humanity is something we bring out in each other. When you are suffering, and your friend comes to comfort you, you have brought out the humanity in them. For some people, it is very hard to draw this out, and sometimes it takes an unfortunately long time to find the last glimmer of humanity left in a person, but it is there. It's always there, if you look hard enough.

Serenity's teacher had passed on another piece of wisdom, but this one was harder for Serenity to swallow.

"Serenity," she had said. "You've lost your family, and I'm not the kind of person that can give you a family again. You are suffering and lonely. It's natural for you to find a way to cope with all this. There's a part of you that wants to make sure no one ever hurts like you're hurting ever again. And there's a part of you that thinks 'if I suffer, why shouldn't everyone else suffer?' You have a choice in which path you want to take. This is the point where someone becomes kind, or they become cruel.

But it's important to remember this moment, because it will help you when confronted with cruel people down the road. You need to really take to heart that you could become cruel, and that if you did, you would be cruel because you are suffering. You have me to guide you, but if someone else lost their family, and they did not have a wholesome person to guide them, they could easily become cruel.

The source of cruelty is always suffering. It doesn't mean we forgive the cruelty; it means we have compassion for the suffering, but we do not have to forgive to have this compassion. Remember that, when you meet someone who barely has any humanity left in them. They may be cruel, they may be unforgivable, but they got there because they are still suffering, and you could easily have been in their place if you had lived their life instead of yours."

Serenity understood this lesson, but it was still hard sometimes to find that compassion in herself. And sometimes she plain didn't want to. But she did her best, because she had learned the hard way that compassion wasn't for the other person, it was for her. Perhaps your compassion will never reach the other person, but when you are angry or hate a person, that eats you up inside and causes you to suffer too. So even if she had to force herself, she always looked for a reason to feel compassion towards people, even as she actively fought back against their cruelty or refused to forgive them. You can have compassion without forgiveness. You can have compassion while actively working to prevent someone from causing harm. Some days she was better at it than others.

Serenity's reminiscence was interrupted by the sudden appearance of Liz and Lucy.

"Serenity! We got you chocolate!" Lucy ran up to her and held out a little package.

"Thank you!" Serenity said, taking the chocolate from her and smiling up at them both from where she was sitting.

"We know you'll be stuck at your stall all day, so we got you one of the new tenderness chocolates," Liz said, returning her smile. "It's... very good."

Serenity noticed the pause, but didn't say anything.

"It's good! It made me feel soft," said Lucy, suddenly bashful.

"Soft is a good feeling," Serenity smiled at her.

"Eat it! Eat it!"

"Lucy, Serenity has to work. She might want to eat it when she gets home, so she can savor it." Liz turned to Serenity. "You might want to eat it in private. It made me cry."

"Thank you for the warning," Serenity said, her heart squeezing with excitement.

She was definitely looking forward to this new experience. Serenity might not be romantic, but romance is not the only thing that can make us feel tenderness, and she was excited to see what tenderness the chocolate could draw out of her.

The anticipation of going home and trying a new thing made the day exciting. Some of the market-goers that stopped by her booth had tried the chocolate, and they all had different things to say about it.

Mrs Cuttle, the wife of the leather worker who rented a stall across from Serenity, stopped by to compliment the shawl Serenity had made for her as part of a commission from her husband. She mentioned she had tried the chocolate, and Serenity, with eager anticipation, asked what it was like.

"Oh, it's really something else," Mrs Cuttle said of the chocolate. "It goes deep down inside you and shows you things you hadn't thought of in so long. So many little memories. It's a wonderful thing. Maury is doing wonderful things for this community."

"It's amazing," another market wanderer said. "It makes you feel so full and soft."

Every person Serenity asked about the chocolate strengthened her excitement to try this chocolate. She didn't feel like she was lacking anything by not being romantic, but tenderness is so often only associated with romantic love and parental love, and Serenity didn't have either of those to feel. So she was intensely curious what the chocolate would show her.

Finally, evening came and Serenity packed up her teas and handmade items. The table and chair she used stayed with the booth so the other person who rented this booth on Tuesdays and Thursdays could use it. Serenity was glad she didn't have to figure out a way to take them home. All she needed to bring all her wares to market was use a backpack she had put a shrinking enchantment on, but you can only use it for things small enough to fit through the opening of the backpack.

Arriving home after a long day of anticipation, Serenity threw her backpack haphazardly onto her chair and rummaged around in it until she found the chocolate. Dragon, who had stayed home all day as he often did, was laying in his bed next to the fireplace, where coals still glowed. Serenity had recently taught him how to keep the fire going, and she suspected he aided the fire a little bit with magic, because there was a faint cloud of magic around the coals.

"Guess what!" She told him.

Dragon's ears perked up, and he lazily opened one eye. A sleepy questioning sensation came from him.

"Maury has a new chocolate flavor!"

Dragon sent a feeling of "that's nice" that didn't hide his indifference. After all, dragons cannot eat chocolate without getting sick. So why should he care?

"You're no fun."

Dragon sent a feeling of "yeah, so what?" His sass was never ending.

"Fine, fine. You keep sleeping. I want to try this chocolate!"

All she got was a huff in response.

Serenity looked at the chocolate. She hadn't bothered to ask what flavor it was. It was apparently enough of an experience that none of her customers had thought to mention this simple detail, either.

Serenity took her bite. A dark chocolate shell broke, and a soft, sweet and salty caramel gushed through the cracks. The caramel didn't have the odd aftertaste some caramels have. It was soft and the salt perfectly accented the sweetness. It was absolutely delicious.

The magic didn't take long. First, Serenity felt something welling up from deep, deep within her. Her heart squeezed and her chest and belly felt warm. There was a softness to it, as it came up from within and spread through her entire body, heart, and mind. It was gentle and yet fierce, a feeling of love that makes you soft for others and hard against anyone who would hurt them.

Mrs Roberts unexpectedly popped into her mind. Serenity thought of a secret she kept. Serenity's joint tea was made for effect rather than taste, so it had an odd flavor that Mr Roberts didn't like. So Mrs Roberts secretly paid Serenity extra to put cinnamon and hibiscus in large amounts into the tea. Mr Roberts had no idea he was getting custom blended tea.

The tenderness of it overwhelmed her. She thought of the expression of love on Mrs Robert's face when she came to pick up the tea, and of the gentleness Serenity herself felt, when faced with a secret born out of love that had lasted decades.

She realized she was feeling a gentle tenderness, as if Mrs Robert's love had inspired a bit of love in Serenity's own heart for the elderly couple. Serenity wasn't as close to them, but she thought of their neighborly practice of popping by to borrow a few eggs for a recipe, and the nice evenings she had spent with them. Her heart squeezed. She did love these people, and that love inspired a red hot fierceness, and also a gentle softness.

Dragon stirred, catching Serenity's attention, and suddenly it was his turn to inspire this tenderness. Serenity thought back to getting his spirit egg, and how it had taken her a month to get it to hatch, but how worth it it was to have him there with her. He was so precious to her. She often took him for granted, because he was always with her and had just become a fact of life.

But looking at him now, she was filled with wonder. Wonder that he existed. Wonder that she would never be alone again. Wonder at this little life, still learning about the world at such a fast pace. She felt overwhelming warmth blossom in her chest. This little life, so small and yet so big, was so precious to her. She didn't know how to live without him. She prayed she would never have to learn. For him, her tenderness felt like caring for a small life that depended on her, and made her feel like she would do anything to protect him, and even more to make sure he was able to live a happy life.

Serenity looked around her cottage, and suddenly the web of connections that was The Great Soul Of All Things became visible to her. It was clear why the magic had shown her this. Almost everything in this room had some connection to Granny Thomas.

Granny. Serenity had been without family from the time she was sixteen, until she moved into this cottage two years ago. Granny barged into her cottage to check out the new neighbor, and instinctively knew "this is a person who needs love." And Granny was someone who loved with a vengeance.

Serenity's chest squeezed again, and she felt such fierce love that reached deep, deep inside her. Down to her core, Serenity loved this old witch who had walked into her life and refused to leave. Granny was full of love, and she wasn't stingy with who she gave it to, and Serenity wanted so badly to learn from and be like Granny.

Suddenly, a memory flashed before her mind. Serenity remembered the day she had been too sick to go to market, and the entire neighborhood had taken care of her. It was a memory she treasured deeply, but secretly, the things she treasured most of all was just a passing moment from that day.

Serenity didn't have a thermometer. So that day, Granny had gently laid a hand across her forehead to check for a fever, and now Serenity could see the tenderness of it. It was the tenderness of a caretaker who deeply loved the person in their charge.

The gesture was brief, but at the time it had almost made Serenity cry. She hadn't had contact like that in a very long time. It reminded her of distant, fuzzy memories of her mother doing the same when she was ill as a child. It made her feel loved and cared for in a way she hadn't experienced in many years. The feel of Granny's hands, cool against her hot forehead, had been such a relief in so many ways. She would always treasure that memory.

Thinking about that simple gesture, tears welled over from Serenity's eyes. She wasn't alone. She wasn't alone. She wasn't alone. She loved and was loved. She felt her love for Granny so deeply it felt like it would break her apart. The love went down to her core, and warmed her there. She felt like her heart was a furnace, and her love was the fire within. It felt warm, comforting, and roared like a bonfire in her chest. More tears fell, as she felt the true depth of the gentle love between her and her elderly neighbor.

Slowly, the effects of the chocolate faded, though Serenity's tears didn't dry up right away. What a blessing, to love and be loved. We all have moments where we fall in love with someone. Romantic love is only one type of love. You can fall in platonic love with someone. You can have a silly moment with a friend where you look at them and realize, "Wow, I love this person and I want them to be in my life for a long time." And what a love it can be. Looking back, Serenity knew the fever check had been the moment she knew she truly loved Granny and was truly loved in return.

Serenity dried her tears. Dragon, in a rare display of maturity, left her to feel her feelings herself. He could feel her emotional state, and he knew she was in no danger of pain. It was only when she had collected herself that he took action.

Getting up from his bed, Dragon trotted over to the counter, jumped up, and pushed the power button on her magic kettle. Then he sat and looked at her expectantly.

"Are you suggesting some tea? I think that's an excellent idea. Let's have some tea."

Serenity got up and set about making tea, feeling her love for her companions with new deliberateness. She could choose to hold onto this feeling. The chocolate only shows you things from your own heart, after all. So as she made her tea, she made a decision to consciously choose to hold onto the tenderness in her heart and feed it warmth until all she felt was love. As the day came to a close, Serenity realized she no longer felt her life was monotonous. Instead, she looked forward to seeing her neighbors and finding new ways to love them. It was a good thought to fall asleep to.

[herogers]

You're on what?

Team Present fill for @stevetonygames Bingo square: Dating app | 685w

Again this was meant to be a drabble but I keep getting carriedAWAY anyway enjoy this funny lil fic

“Where’s your phone?” Tony asks, flopping down on the couch next to Steve.

Steve shrugs, sipping his drink “I don’t know, think I left it in the kitchen somewhere, why?”

Tony rolls his eyes “I still need those photos you haven’t sent me, can I just go get it?”

“Sure, you know the password.” 

Tony makes his way to the kitchen and finds Steve’s phone next to the coffee machine.

He puts in the passcode and searches Steve’s phone for the photos app, and as he swipes an unfamiliar icon catches his eye. His brow raises as it doesn’t look like your typical game app, not that cap ever bothers to download anything that wont aid him in work or art. Curiosity gets the best of him and he opens the app, his heart drops and confusion rises. “What the actual fuck?” he mutters, barely feeling his lips move in the shock that overtakes him. 

He sees a profile, a dating profile Steve’s dating profile. His eyes roar with fire as he scrolls through it.

He marches to the lounge and is met with a smile from Steve, 

“Wipe that smile off your face, Rogers. What the hell is this?” His voice frantic, frustration rushing so fast through him he barely notices Sam snickering on the other side of the couch. 

“Oh, did you know about this? You didn’t think to tell me?”

“Wow wow wow, hey, Tony what’s going on?” Steve says getting up from the couch.

He shoves the phone at Steve’s chest “Why don’t you tell me?”

Steve frowns, taking the phone. “You're the one who told me to get into social media,”

Tony looks at him bewildered “To look at art, communicate to share, not to fuck around!" He says, hands flying through the air as he rants. "It took you so long to even kiss me now- ha, now you're advertising yourself to any asshole within a ten mile radius? And you think that was my idea?"

"What? Tony I-"

"Okay, alright my fun's over now." They get interrupted by Sam who still has tears of laughter lingering in his eyes. 

"I set up the profile for him." He confesses with a grin.

Tony raises his eyebrow, still not amused. "What are you two the dudebros of the Avengers now?"

"Tony it's nothing like that at all, come on," Sam assures

"I'll admit I took this too far, but I did it to mess with cap, I thought eventually he'd pick up on what the app's about.. what I didn't count on though was you finding out, which just made it funnier, I'm sorry it just did." He starts laughing again.

Tony blushes his anger diffusing as it is quickly replaced by embarrassment.

 "Cap m'sorry man, it was a dating app I set you up on, I thought it'd be a harmless prank on you but getting you in trouble," he looks at Tony with a smirk "Wasn't part of the plan." 

Steve turns to glare at Sam "I'm getting you back for this."

"Understood." Sam pats Steve's shoulder. "I'll leave you both to it." He says before running off, hardly fighting that grin. Definitely going to tell Bucky all about his oh so hilarious prank.

Steve turns back to Tony and quirks his eyebrow up. "So, am I out of the dog house now?" 

At this point Tony's pink cheeks have turned red. "I uh.." He chuckles lightly, looking down. "Guess I jumped the gun a little there."

Steve smiles and steps towards him, wrapping his arms around his waist. "For the record, even though we haven't officially talked about it. I still consider myself yours Tony." 

That took the breath out of him.

"I have for a while." He murmurs. 

Tony bites his lip and looks up at him. “Really?” He asks quietly. 

Steve pulls his body closer and presses a tender kiss to his lips. “I’m all yours Tony, if you’ll have me.”

Tony grins and wraps his arms around his neck “Duh.” he whispers against his lips, kissing him again. “Now delete that fucking app.”