#amy's there just having a blast of her own

[episims]

Sara "-no, no. I love you baby boy, but I don't want to see this."

Felix "And who's forcing you to watch??"

Felix "Geez... your hands are magical. Beats even the sports massages the team offers."

Shay "Your shoulders are really tense."

Felix "Yeah, we've—ow—had a few big matches in a row."

Felix "...Thanks. Do you need a massage?"

Shay *chuckles* "I'm fine."

Felix "Aw. Anything else I could pay you back with...?"

[ravenslvt]

why does your best friend’s brother have to be so hot??

☆ suna rintarou x fem!reader (pt.2) ☆

cw: smut! shower sex, pet names, porn with feelings, oral m receiving, rough sex, tension.

pt.1 link pt.3 link pt.4 link

“hellooo? earth to ami?” you wave your hand in front of your friend’s face. she was laser focused on her switch, music blasting in her headphones as she plays the new zelda game. she gives you one glance “yeah?” she says, pausing the game and taking off one headphone.

“i’m gonna shower. where do you keep the towels?”

“hallway closet. if not, ask rintarou” she puts her earphone back in, zoning back into her game. you sigh, walking out of her room and into the hall. she took her video games seriously. you open the cabinet, eyes squinting for a towel to use. oh great, of course the best ones were on the top row. you huff.

“what’cha doin?” a low voice rumbles from behind you. you keep yourself from practically jumping out of your skin. “jesus, rintarou. stop sneaking up on me like that!” you smack his arm playfully. he just smiles. he loved your reactions to him.

he was shirtless, skin glistening in fresh sweat. it was clear he just got done with a workout. your eyes wander down his chest.

“where’s ami?” he asks, his voice a little quieter than usual. your eyes draw back to his, raising your brows. “playing games in her room… why?” you cross your arms over your chest, looking up at the taller man. he just reaches over you to grab a towel you were looking for. he smelled like a mix of his cologne and sweat, it was dizzying.

“i wanted the pink one…” you pout as he hands you the white towel. he shrugs, taking it for himself. “i’ll take this one then.” he grabs you the pink towel you wanted, a smile growing on your face. “and what do you mean by that?” you hug the fluffy towel to your chest, your eyes raking over his handsome features.

it had been three days since you and him had your moment in the kitchen. the marks on both of you almost completley faded by now. the only thing left of that night was the lingering memory of his touch.

he grabs your hand, leading you into the big hallway bathroom, shutting the door and locking it. you carefully place the pink towel down on the spacious counter, but rintarou had other ideas.

“c’mere” he grabs you by the waist, slamming his mouth into yours, leaning you against the sink. the bathroom echoed with your small noises of enjoyment.

“always so loud” he reluctantly pulls away, making you pout. he quickly turns on the shower to cover your noise. in a flash, his mouth is back on yours. your hands go to his bare chest, pressing against his hard muscles. he smiled at this.

the hot steam of the shower slowly filled the room, reminding you of what you even came in here to do. his hands reach for your top, you help him peel it off over your head. your own nervous hands reach at his workout shorts, pushing them down his hips to leave him in his boxers. fuck, he was hard already.

“don’t wanna make a mess again, c’mon.” you clench at the memory of him fucking you on the counter downstairs just a few nights ago. once you’re both stripped completely, he makes sure your towels are close to the shower as he steps into the hot pouring water. your arms cover your chest when you follow him in, a bit self conscious. he holds your elbow to help you get under the sprinkling water.

the water poured over his head, his hair slicked to his face. you admired how good he looked with the droplets falling down his face to his neck to his chest, all the way down to his hard cock and the trimmed brown hair surrounding it.

he held your face in his hands, studying you. it made your face flush.

“you’re so pretty” his thumb brushes over your bottom lip, dragging it down before letting it go.

“you’re prettier” you reply, looking up at him blissfully. he just chuckles.

“not a chance” he leans in for another kiss, this time a little more slow and heartfelt. it made your insides feel hot when his hands move down your body. you gasp softly as his hands palm your ass, bringing you closer to him. he slowly grinded his arousal into your thigh, making you whine. you just wanted him inside already.

he groans when you take his hard cock in your hand, gently rubbing your thumb up and down the slit before stroking him, making him hiss.

“can i? please rin.” you give him pleading eyes, begging to let you suck him off in the shower. he groans.

“i don’t wanna hurt your pretty knees, baby.” his large hands comfortably rub your hips. you just roll your eyes.

“i don’t care. just want it in my mouth.” you give him a peck on his lips, then his neck, then his chest. going all the way down to the base of his cock. you lower yourself on your knees, ignoring the sting of the hard floor against your sensitive skin.

you give his head small kitten licks, focusing on the tip where you know he was most sensitive. you slowly take him into your mouth, bobbing your head back and forth before taking him almost all the way in. he was just so big! your eyes watered when he hit the back of your mouth, using your small hand to wrap around the rest that wouldn’t fit.

“fuckk.” the back of his head hits the shower wall with a small thump, but he was more caught up in the pleasure of your mouth sucking him off. his hands grip your hair, making you moan around him. he curses at the vibration of your throat around him. you notice, softly humming to keep the rumble around him.

he had to hold himself back from grabbing your face and fucking your mouth, not wanting to hurt you. his hips stuttered as your mouth moved up and down his shaft, trying to copy what you've seen in videos.

your free hand reached down, rubbing your clit. you couldn’t help it, the view of him losing himself in your mouth was just too much for you to handle. you’d imagined this so many times, the taste of him. everything. you hollow your cheeks, trying to get him as deep as you could without choking.

“s-stop or i’m g-gonna cum, fuck!” he practically whines, his eyes on you. you were so wet just from his sounds. you just take him deeper, ignoring the burning ache in your jaw. you could taste the saltiness of his precum on your tongue, your fingers moving in rhythm on your clit.

it takes all of his willpower, but he pulls you off of him, groaning at the string of spit and precum dripping from your mouth. you frown. he just runs his hand through your wet hair, panting.

“i wanna finish with you, baby. i’ll let you taste me properly another time, yeah?” you nod as he pulls you back up on your feet, holding you so you don’t fall from your shakey knees.

he kisses you again. god, he could do this forever. his cock was still hard, red and raging from all the stimulation. it practically twitched at the thought of being inside you again when it brushes against your wet thigh.

he grabs your hips, slamming you against the cold shower wall with pure hunger on his mind. the sight of you touching yourself while sucking him off making him almost cum at the thought. he was utterly obsessed with you.

he starts to kiss down your jaw to your neck, starting to suck small marks into your skin.

“no marks!” you scold him. he just pouts, nuzzling his head into your neck. he understood why, but he just wished he could let everyone know you were his, though he’d never admit it.

he hesitently pulls back, hiking your leg to wrap around his hip. fuck. he couldn’t tell if you were more wet from the actual water from the shower or from his touch. it was mostly from him.

he lines himself up with your hole, his tip poking at your entrance. “you ready?” he asks, rubbing his cock between your folds, making you mewl.

“yes, please just put it- fuck!” you practically scream as he sinks himself into your needy pussy, holding back a loud groan himself. you felt even better than before. or maybe he just missed your cunt so much.

“shh. you’re almost louder than the shower…” he rasped out, holding onto your hips for dear life. he started moving, setting a mouth watering pace. the way his tip brushes your g spot with every deep thrust makes your head loll back onto the shower tile.

you couldn’t tell if it was the steam from the hot shower, or the way he was pounding into you that was making you so hazy. probably both.

you couldn’t control the little whimpers and moans coming from your mouth, thankful that the shower was loud enough to cover up your small sounds.

suddenly, there was a knock at the door and a call of your name.

“what is taking you so long?! i need to shower too girl!” ami yells from outside the door. your eyes widen, rintarou immediately covering his own mouth with his hand. he was still balls deep inside of you, trusts slowing down, but not stopping.

“s-sorry! just had to wait for the water to heat up!” you shout back, she just groans.

“whatever, i’ll just use the other shower.” you could hear her voice receding down the hall. you let out a breath you didn’t even realize you were holding in.

“we really need to find better places to fuck.” he comments, his pace quickening again.

“you’re the one who- f-fuck- dragged me in here.” you pant, your tits bouncing at the way he fucked you against the cool tile.

“don’t act like you didn’t want this. pussys practically sucking me in.” he adds.

“fuck” he mumbles, looking down at where you two met. the way you could see the buldge of his cock through your belly everytime he entered you. he placed his hand over it.

he lowers his mouth to your tits, taking one in his mouth, gently biting and sucking, making you moan. he switches between them until he’s satisfied, making you squeeze around him.

��so fucking hot.” he growls, holding onto your leg to bring it higher so he can fuck you even deeper. he was close, his cock pulsing inside of you.

“m’ cuming!” you cried out, holding onto his shoulders for support, nails digging into his skin. you rut your hips to meet his own thrusts in absolute bliss, vision getting blurry with tears as you clench around him, his dick fitting so perfectly inside of you, making you feel so fucking good.

“right there with you, baby. w-where can i-“ he starts, his pace stuttering. his brows were furrowed in concentration.

“inside rinn, please please please!” you begged, locking your leg around his hip to bring him deeper. he moans, his hot seed filling you to the fucking brim. your eyes squeeze shut at the feeling of his cock pumping cum inside of you.

he kisses you through your orgasms, swallowing all your moans along with his own. you pull away, dizzy with lust, panting heavily.

he pulls his cock out of you with a groan, the mixes of your release dripping down and washing away almost instantly in the water.

he kisses your cheek, soothing you. “let’s wash up, pretty girl.”

a/n: i’m so overwhelmed with all the support on this series!! i already have plans for the next part with a little more plot since this one was mostly smut! i do plan on basically every chapter having smut so don't worry y'all <3

masterlist

[vulcan-moon]

Bro...inhibitor ring Amy...ur mind bro....

Seriously though, while I'm of the personal opinion that her bracelets are weights like they are in the GBA games, I ALSO am a diehard fan of chaos-user!Amy.  In fact, ice been saying for years now that she IS a chaos user—she just gives her more supernatural combative abilities cutesy or simplified names as opposed to Shadow's more technical naming conventions. 

Storming Heart is a derivative form of Chaos Spear, which in the games looks slower and more concussive like a bomb might be.  Rose Typhoon is just a Chaos Blast supplemented by the shockwaves she generates using her hammer. 

I wouldn't be surprised if the more technical terms for her Invisibility and Precognitive abilities—referring to her tarot readings, accurate intuition, etc.—were something along the lines of "Chaos Shroud" and "Chaos Divination" respectively.  Then there's her pocket dimension where she keeps things like her hammer and cards, so that could just be accessing her own personal "Chaos Space".  Hells, she even has a uniquely strong capacity to sense the energy of other people and things, which is what makes her such a great tracker in canon, and if the energy she's sensing is actually just the chaos energy all living things naturally possess in varying strengths and signatures, then maybe she also employs a sort of "Chaos Dowsing" technique. 

Idk if you can tell, but I'm a big Amy fan lol.  I usually just love all-arounder characters like her—seeing how she's faster than Tails and Knuckles but not Sonic, stronger than Sonic and Tails but not Knuckles, and smarter than Sonic and Knuckles but not Tails.  Also, a sweet, peppy magical girl who's greatest traits are her passion and kindness?  Sign me tf up. 

Would be funny for her to ask Shadow to teach her Chaos abilities now that she knows to take off the inhibitors and for him to be all ???? "What are you talking about? You use them all the time??" lol. My shadamy shipper heart would also just love to see them grow closer over this, but that's neither here nor there

i love amyyyy i love her so much. her abilities are so wild and all over the place and the moment you think deeper abt them youre like,,,, how tf does she do what she does actually why tf does she have a pocket dimension. and you're so right abt the naming thing!!

to me it just makes sense her being a chaos energy user. all the other hedgehogs can do it, she's got abilities that are very similar to theirs, it makes sense that she channels chaos energy too. if sega weren't cowards, she'd have a super form by now 😔

also hilariously enough im in the middle of drawing a short lil follow up comic to my last one w that premise :3c sneak peek

[ginnsbaker]

fic: if i bleed (you'll be the last to know) (17/17)

Part Summary: “I firmly believe that when you do the right thing, everything will eventually fall into place. It might not turn out exactly as you hoped, but you’ll find a sense of understanding and peace with your decision.”

Pairing: Leigh Shaw x Fem!Reader | Word count for this part: 7.600+ | Tags/Warnings: angst, fluff, mentions of smut Author's note: Wow! Those five months went by so fast. Thank you so much for being with me on this journey. It's been my honor and pleasure sharing with you this story :)

Masterlist | Part I Part II | Part III | Part IV | Part V | Part VI | Part VII | Part VIII | Part IX | Part X | Part XI | Part XII | Part XIII | Part XIV I Part XV | Part XVI

-

“Tell me that your love is a sure thing” - Golden Vessel, Emerson Leif (“Hesitate”)

“Do you think I should ask Y/N to come with me?” Leigh asks, idly twisting a gold bauble between her fingers. She stares at it a beat too long, like she might find the answer in the curve of its shiny surface. 

It's three days before Christmas, and true to Shaw family tradition, they're just now getting around to setting up the decorations. It wouldn't have happened at all if Amy hadn't taken the initiative to remind them. She was supposed to help, but she's vanished again to meet another “friend.” Leigh and Jules are suspicious, thinking their mom might be seeing someone in secret.

Jules, teetering slightly on the ladder, twists around to give Leigh a raised eyebrow. “To the Harrison’s bash for New Year’s? Hell yeah, why not? She’s a blast. Could shake things up a bit.”

“No, not that,” Leigh exhales, now regretting even bringing it up. “I mean the comic book tour for Matt.”

Jules steps down, one rung at a time, until she’s down to Leigh’s level. “Oh. That’s…quite a step. But, why not? Sounds like an adventure for you both,” she says.

Logan zips by, a sheeny red bauble in his mouth, set on a mission to place it next to his bowl in the kitchen. He keeps fetching or chasing after the scattered Christmas balls, sending them rolling all over the house. Leigh and Jules have been running around, picking them up and putting them back on the tree.

“It’s not just that,” Leigh says, glancing out the window where the first hints of evening are brushing the sky. “Asking her to come means asking her to leave everything here behind. Her life, her responsibilities. It’s different for her—she has a real career.”

“Hold up—what we do is a real career too. We’re improving lives with healthy habits, remember?”

Leigh laughs sardonically. “Come on, Jules, we're kinda just floating, working for Mom. Y/N is a doctor, owns her clinic, has staff. That’s...”

“That’s a big deal,” Jules agrees with a solemn nod. “It’s a huge ask, for sure.”

Silence hangs for a beat, the only sounds being Logan’s light panting as he settles down, ornament forgotten. 

“Do you think she'd actually say no?” Jules suddenly pipes up, climbing back up the ladder to resume her decorating. Leigh spots a stray ornament a few feet away, points at it, and calls out, “Fetch!” 

Logan springs into action, scampering to retrieve it. As he returns, triumphant, Leigh gives him a pat on the head and passes the ornament up to Jules.

“Actually, it’s quite the opposite. She’d jump at the chance,” she tells Jules.

“So, what’s stopping you?”

“She might regret it later,” Leigh says quietly. “And that could mean losing her.”

Jules frowns, understanding the bind her sister is in. She stretches out a hand, and Leigh takes it, their palms pressing cold and warm together. “I’m sorry.”

“And if I leave her here, I might lose her anyway,” Leigh adds, the heaviness of two futures making her shoulders sag. 

Jules gives her hand a firm squeeze. “But what if you both end up regretting not taking the chance? It’s only a few months. Maybe Y/N can sort something out with her clinic?”

“It’s still too risky for her business. She’s poured everything into that place, Jules. Asking her to step away, even briefly—it’s…it’s selfish.”

“Life’s full of risky asks, Leigh. Sometimes, you gotta bet on what’s scary. Risk a little heartbreak on the chance it’ll bring you both something remarkable. Maybe this is one of those times?”

Leigh releases her hand and moves to another bare section of the tree. “Is that the kind of thinking that made you decide to look for your biological parents in Vietnam?”

Jules snaps the tinsel down, her response coming quick and a bit sharp. “Yes.”

Leigh winces slightly, realizing her question might have prodded an unintended sore spot. “I didn’t mean—”

“I get it,” Jules interjects, sighing as she tries to bring the conversation to a close. They’re both dealing with their own issues, and as much as she loves Leigh, she knows she’s not in the right headspace to offer solid advice—especially advice she’s not even sure works.

Leigh clamps her mouth shut. She doesn’t want this to turn into an argument either.

“Maybe just talk to her? See what she thinks? Who knows, maybe the biggest leaps make the most sense when you’re doing them for the right reasons... for the right person,” Jules says after some time. 

“You really think so?” Leigh asks, her voice threaded with hope.

“I do,” Jules nods, her hands busy rewrapping the tinsel Logan has graciously returned. “Just talk to her. It’s either a ‘what if’ or a ‘what now.’ Better to find out which.”

-

Leigh comes with her mouth open, but no sound escapes. Her body trembles as she experiences what she knows is the best orgasm she's ever had—though she remembers saying the same thing about this morning’s quickie in your bathroom. It just seems to keep getting better each time.

You slowly climb up from her pussy, trailing soft kisses along her stomach. As you move upward, you let your tongue lightly trace a stripe across one of her nipples, eliciting a shiver from Leigh. She’s still catching her breath, but when you finally reach her lips, she pulls you in for a deep, consuming kiss. The way her tongue wrestles with yours tells you she’s already eager for more, her hands tangling in your hair as she holds you close.

You break the kiss, smiling down at her. “Hi,” you murmur, almost shyly.

Leigh, still a little dazed, brushes the strands of hair off your forehead and gently traces your lower lip with her thumb. “You know something?” she asks, her eyes wandering over the marks and lines on your face.

“Hm?” 

She kisses the corner of your mouth. “You're kind of amazing,” she says softly.

“That good, huh?” you tease, a playful smile tugging at your lips.

Her hand, which has been cupping your face, slides down your neck before she pulls it back to herself, biting at her index fingernail.

“I’m sure you can tell,” she whispers, her voice low and sultry. To emphasize her point, she arches her hips, the slickness between her thighs evident against your skin.

“You’re going to have to give me a minute,” you sigh, letting your head fall to her sweaty chest. “You’ve completely worn me out.”

Leigh laughs, a soft, melodic sound. “Really? Getting tired already? What happened to your stamina?”

You don’t bother to retort, content just to lie there listening to the rhythm of her heart. “It’s hard work keeping you satisfied,” you say after some time, your voice muffled against her skin.

She tightens her hold around you, the gentle stroke of her fingers in your hair making every thought slow down. The security of her embrace makes everything seem right in the world, and it emboldens you to voice a thought that's been on your mind more and more lately.

“You know,” you start, lifting your head to catch her eyes, “I was thinking… maybe you should move in with me.”

Leigh stiffens just a bit, her eyes darting away for a moment, and you instantly regret how fast you’ve blurted it out. You sit up, trying to backpedal, “Only if you want to, I mean... it was just a thought. You're here most nights anyway, and your toothbrush is already—”

Before you can ramble on, Leigh leans in and silences you with a gentle kiss. “Slow down,” she whispers against your lips, her smile reassuring.

You chuckle, giving her a sheepish, lopsided smile. “Right, right,” you agree, settling back down beside her. 

Leigh shifts to lie on her side, propping herself up on one elbow. Her eyes, still dark with want, sweep over your body—flushed, soft, and still quivering slightly from your efforts to pleasure her. She catches herself, though, and with a more composed motion, she pulls the blanket up to cover you, tucking it around your chest.

You look up at her, your expression ironically innocent, waiting for her to say what's on her mind.

“I’d love to,” Leigh finally says. “But do you really think it’s the right move?”

“What do you mean?”

“I mean, we’ve just started exploring what this is, what we could be, and I’m already planning to leave. It feels like I’m setting us up for...” Leigh doesn’t finish the sentence, but she doesn’t have to.

Matt's book tour looms over both of you, an ever-present shadow no matter how tightly you try to cling to each other. It's as if you believe that by melding into one with Leigh, you could somehow will her impending departure into nonexistence.

Though before you can say anything, your phone rings from the coffee table beside you. You reach over and grab it, your mom's name flashing urgently on the screen. A quick glance at the time sends a jolt through you—you were to pick her up at the airport but completely lost track of time.

Leigh sits up too, clutching the sheet to her naked torso. “What is it?”

You wince, the irony of the situation not lost on you. “It's my mom,” you explain hurriedly. “I should have left, like, half an hour ago to pick her up at the airport. She’s staying with me for a few days until right before New Year’s.” 

A moment ago, you were discussing moving in together, and now you find yourself needing to ask her to leave. 

Leigh raises an eyebrow, smiling coyly as she realizes the implications of your mother’s arrival. “And let me guess, she's staying here? In your one-bedroom palace?”

“Yeah,” you say, scrambling to get dressed. “Which means I need to air out the place, change the sheets... make it look like I live like a monk.” You stop for a second, looking at Leigh with an apologetic frown on your face. “And I kind of need to ask you to leave now. Please don’t be mad.”

“Mad?” Leigh laughs as she swings her legs out of bed and starts gathering her clothes. Once she's collected them all, she steps closer, gives you a quick kiss, and murmurs right next to your ear, “I’m furious.”

You kiss her hair gently before stepping in front of the mirror to check your appearance, making sure you don't look as disheveled as you feel.

“Gives us both some time to think about everything. The tour, us moving in, all of it,” Leigh says, slipping into her jeans.

“Absolutely,” you agree, watching her.

“Change those sheets well, huh?” she teases, zipping up her bag. “You know how moms can be.”

You grimace jokingly at her comment. “Please, don't ever use 'sheets' and 'mom' in the same sentence ever again.”

Leigh laughs again, clearly enjoying you squirm. She slings her bag over her shoulder, waiting for you to finish getting ready.

As you cap your lip gloss, an idea suddenly strikes you. Seeing Leigh's expectant look reflected in the mirror, you ask, “Hey, how about you join me to pick her up at the airport?”

Meeting your mom seems like another huge step in your relationship, but she doesn't hesitate.

“Is it okay with your mom?” she asks, a bit wary.

You shrug, taking her hand confidently. “Why wouldn't it be?”

-

Apparently, you’re the spitting image of your mother.

At least, that’s how Leigh sees it as she watches you both hug it out in the arrival section of LAX. As a fitness pundit, Leigh immediately notices your mom's excellent posture, despite her petite frame. It's the first thing she observes in anyone, and your mom is no exception. Beyond that, you both share the same quick smile and the way your eyes light up in laughter—deep brown, the color of rich coffee, which Leigh finds particularly striking. Even the gestures are mirrored; the way you both tuck hair behind your ear when nervous, or the confidence in your strides.

What distinctly sets her apart from you, though, is how intimidating your mom appears to be.

As you walk to the parking lot, holding your mom’s hand in one of yours and Leigh’s in the other, your mom chats animatedly about a hot spring resort she discovered near your hometown. Leigh keeps half a step behind, doing her best to stay engaged while keeping up with your pace.

“So, how was your flight?” Leigh asks, finding a moment to wedge herself into the conversation.

Your mom barely glances back, responding briefly before turning her attention back to you. “Long, but it’s always nice to spend Christmas with my daughter,” she says, squeezing your hand affectionately.

Leigh tries again. “It's pretty nice weather here, isn't it? I bet it's a lot colder on the East Coast right now.”

“Oh, it’s freezing out there, Leigh,” you chime in, completely oblivious to the awkward interaction between your mom and your girlfriend. 

Your mom nods but doesn't elaborate, her focus still on you. “We should stop by that bakery you always gush about,” she says, eyes bright with excitement.

Leigh's grip on your hand tightens slightly, and she lags further behind. “Oh, that store closes at five. It’s seven already,” you say. 

Desperate to connect, Leigh tries for the final time. “There are special light installations in the park for the holidays. Would you like to go see them?”

Your mom finally looks back, but her smile is thin. “I’m not much into these ‘light installations’. Too much walking.” She quickly shifts back to you. “How’s work been?”

“Work’s been busy, but manageable,” you say, glancing back at Leigh, who offers a small, strained smile.

The three of you continue to the parking lot, the conversation feeling increasingly one-sided. As you reach the car, you open the trunk and help with the bags, all the while trying to think of a way to include Leigh more naturally.

“Leigh and I were thinking of checking out that new restaurant downtown,” you say, making an effort to draw your mom's attention to her.

“Sounds nice,” your mom replies. “But actually, I'm not hungry—just a bit tired.”

Leigh’s expression falls just a bit, but she quickly masks it, helping with the last of the luggage. She figures that’s her cue to leave. 

You can’t hide your frustration. Your plan was to have a nice dinner, a proper introduction. “Are you sure, Mom? It doesn’t have to be a long meal,” you push back gently.

“Let’s just get your mom home, she’s had a long day,” Leigh tells you softly.

You glance at your mom, silently pleading for her to reconsider, but she only smiles. “Maybe another time, dear.”

Reluctantly, you agree.

-

You lead your mom into the living room, urging her to make herself comfortable while you hurry to get the bedroom ready. The sheets need changing, the windows thrown open to freshen the air, and the whole space needs a bit of tidying. 

“I’ll be right back,” you mumble, disappearing into the bedroom.

In the bedroom, you work quickly, stripping the used sheets and flinging the windows wide. You hustle, smoothing on fresh sheets, fluffing pillows, and straightening up—getting rid of all the evidence of what you and Leigh had been doing all week. 

Meanwhile, your mom isn't one to just sit around. She takes in the scattered magazines, the couch cushions askew, and the dishes piled up in the kitchen. With a small sigh, she gets up and starts putting things in order. She straightens up the living room and moves on to tackle the kitchen. Before long, the sound of running water and clinking dishes fills your tiny apartment.

When she’s done setting things in order, she starts rummaging through your fridge and pantry. With only a few ingredients at hand, she decides to make do with what you have. Soon, she's boiling spaghetti and slicing hotdogs to toss into the mix. This dish was a childhood favorite of yours and remains a go-to comfort food. As soon as the familiar aroma wafts through the air, you find yourself irresistibly drawn toward the kitchen.

“Is that...?” you start, a delighted smile spreading across your face at the sight of the generous layer of shredded cheese melting over the thick red sauce.

“Sit down and eat while it's hot,” your mom commands with a warm smile.

You don’t need to be told twice.  Fork in hand, you dive into the spaghetti as though you haven't eaten in days. Considering your usual diet of takeout and quick fixes, that's not too far from the truth. You chat about small, inconsequential things—the new coffee shop you tried last week, the remarkable cases you’ve encountered in the clinic this month, the shows you’ve been watching on Netflix. 

Finishing your meal, you lean back with a satisfied sigh, feeling truly content for the first time in a long while.

“Mom?”

“Yes, dear?”

“So... what do you think of Leigh?”

“So that’s Leigh, huh?” Your mom pauses, setting down her cup of tea with deliberate care. “The widow of the guy you unknowingly dated for a while, not realizing he was married?”

“Yeah, that’s her,” you confirm, nodding slowly as your nerves start to build. The last time you brought up Leigh to your mom, you were almost ready to throw in the towel until she urged you to give it another shot. Now, more than anything, you're hoping she'll give her approval.

She nods thoughtfully, then with a sly grin, says, “Well, she's definitely out of your league.”

“Mom!” you exclaim, embarrassed.

She chuckles, clearly pleased with her little joke.

“Come on, be serious,” you plead.

Your mom clasps her hands on the table, and gives you that look—the one that means business. You can't help but roll your eyes at her theatrics, clearly aimed at getting a rise out of you.

“Leigh seems lovely,” she says. You can tell she’s sincere and that makes you sigh in relief. “And I really appreciate how she tried to engage with me earlier.”

You relax slightly, but then, as you replay the earlier interactions in your mind, you realize Leigh seemed frustrated and your mom wasn’t as welcoming as she usually is. Your face scrunches up as this sinks in.

“Wait, you were really standoffish to Leigh earlier!”

She holds up her hands in a half-shrug, her smirk fading into a more thoughtful expression. “Oh, honey, I didn’t mean to come off that way at all,” she says. “I guess I was just being overprotective. You know, considering how everything started between you two.”

You appreciate her motherly instincts but wish she'd given Leigh a fairer chance from the start. “I get it, Mom. But Leigh is really important to me now. It would mean a lot if you could try to get to know her better. For me?”

“Of course, sweetie,” she says. “What do you need?”

“Well, for starters…” you start, pausing as you try to find the right way to explain. You're about to share that you'll be spending Christmas dinner with the Shaws this year. It's always been just the two of you for the holidays, so you're not sure how she'll take the news of including others she hardly knows. “You’ll have an opportunity to bond with her the day after tomorrow.”

“What’s on Tuesday?”

“Christmas Eve dinner,” you reply. “At the Shaws.”

“Dinner at your girlfriend’s?” she clarifies.

You nod, your lip catching between your teeth. It still feels a little surreal—exciting, actually—being able to call Leigh your girlfriend. “Yeah, Mom. I thought it’d be nice for us to join them this year.”

Instead of giving an outright yes, she asks, “What should I bring? I want to make a good impression.”

You stand up and walk around the table to give her a hug. She wraps her arms around you and plants a kiss on your forehead. “Thank you,” you mutter into her shoulder. “Maybe bring your blueberry pie? Everyone loves that.”

“You love it,” she says cheerily. “Consider it done.”

Slipping back into old habits, you start clearing the dinner dishes, just like you used to when you lived with her. As you stack dishes and run water in the sink, your mom begins unpacking her bags in your bedroom. As you scrub the dishes, thoughts of following Leigh and leaving everything here behind start to overwhelm you. Once the kitchen is spotless and the last dish is put away, you realize you can't keep these feelings bottled up any longer. 

You call out to your mother as you dry your hands on a kitchen towel. A few seconds later, she reappears in the living room, her face expectant.

“Hey, uhm,” you say, not knowing how to start. “I’ve been meaning to talk to you about something.”

“Go on,” she urges gently.

You take a deep breath before continuing, “Matt’s comic book is getting published posthumously. The publishing company wants Leigh to join a tour to promote the book, and I'm… I’m thinking of joining her.”

Your mom's expression becomes inscrutable as she processes the information. She walks to the couch and takes a seat. After a long pause, she asks, “What will happen to your clinic here?” 

You look down, fidgeting with the towel in your hands, and then meet her gaze. “I’ve thought about that,” you say. “I’d need to find someone to cover for me. It wouldn’t be easy, but... I feel like I need to be there for Leigh. This is important to her, and… she’s everything to me.”

You try to read her reaction, but every line on her face remains perfectly still and composed. “Is it because you want to be there for her,” she says slowly, “or because you're afraid that if she leaves, you might lose her?”

Your eyes drop to the floor, and that's answer enough for your mother.

“Come here,” she says, patting the empty spot on the couch next to her. Wordlessly, you oblige.

“It's okay to be scared,” she whispers. “Loving someone means taking risks. Just remember, you need to be true to yourself as well. Leigh is important, but so are you.”

“I just don’t want to regret not giving my all to see this through with her,” you say.

“You love her,” she states, not as a question, but as a fact.

“I really do,” you say quietly.

“I firmly believe that when you do the right thing, everything will eventually fall into place. It might not turn out exactly as you hoped, but you’ll find a sense of understanding and peace with your decision.”

-

Your mom's words stay with you throughout the night. As you lie in bed, you can hear her soft breathing, her back turned to you.

You’ll find a sense of understanding and peace with your decision.

Your phone vibrates gently beneath your pillow, and you smile when you see a message from Leigh.

Leigh [10:45 PM]: Can’t sleep. I miss you.

You [10:45 PM]: Miss you too.

She doesn't reply, but she fills your head well into the night. The future is uncertain, but one thing feels right: going with Leigh on her tour is the decision that brings you peace.

-

Christmas Eve dinner arrives sooner than you expected.

Pulling up to the Shaws' house, you're amazed by the decorations that the siblings have tirelessly worked on for the past two days. The house is transformed into a festive wonderland, with twinkling lights draped over every surface, garlands of holly framing the windows, and a towering Christmas tree visible through the living room window, adorned with shimmering ornaments and tinsel.

You watch your mom's reaction as you both step out of the car, seeing the lights reflected in her awe-filled eyes. You beam at her, proud of your girlfriend's decorating skills and holiday spirit.

You and your mom walk up to the doorstep. She clutches her much-loved blueberry pie, which you’re looking forward to having a hearty slice of tonight, while you carefully hold Leigh's gift—a Lego typewriter modeled after a vintage 1950s design. You feel a twinge of nervousness about how she’ll receive your gift.

Moments later, the door swings open to reveal Leigh, all dressed up, and for a moment, you're speechless. Leigh has always been beautiful. No matter what she wears—be it casual joggers, sleek dresses, or even just her underwear—she never fails to leave an impression. Tonight is no different; she takes your breath away all over again.

“Merry Christmas!” Leigh greets brightly. “Almost, anyway,” she adds with a nervous laugh.

“Your decorations are incredible,” your mom says, smiling at her.

“Oh, thank you!” Leigh replies, her cheeks flushing at the unexpected compliment. 

“Where should I put this?” your mom asks, holding up her pie.

“You didn’t have to, but wow, that looks amazing! Come on in, I'll show you,” Leigh says, stepping aside to let you both in. She leads you to the kitchen, where the smells of holiday cooking are even stronger. “You can set it right here,” she points to a spot on the counter already laden with various dishes and desserts.

Just as your mom sets the pie on the counter, Amy walks in. Leigh introduces her mom, and the two women share friendly greetings before Amy’s attention quickly turns to the blueberry pie. They dive into a lively discussion about cooking, swapping recipes as if they’ve known each other for years.

Leigh turns to you, her eyes shining. “I'm so glad you’re here now,” she says softly, her fingers lightly brushing against yours. Craving more contact, you gently grasp her hand and guide her to the backyard where Logan is nonchalantly marking a geranium. With no one around now, you draw Leigh close and kiss her deeply. Leigh responds just as fervently, her hand coming to rest on your waist and then squeezing, making you moan into her mouth. She takes advantage of the moment, slipping her tongue in. Her other hand finds its way to your neck, pulling you even closer. You can feel her heartbeat against your chest, matching the rhythm of your own.

When you finally pull back, breathless, you rest your forehead against hers. Leigh's eyes are half-lidded, her lips slightly swollen, tempting you to lean in once more. Just as you're about to, she finally takes notice of the enormous box under your arm.

“Is that for me?”

“Yes,” you say, handing it to her. “I hope you like it.”

Leigh's eyes widen as she takes her gift, her excitement further lighting up her soulful green eyes.

“I've got something for you too,” she says, giving the box a little shake. “It's upstairs in my bedroom. Want to get it now?”

You shake your head, matching her giddy smile. “Maybe later. If you take me to your bedroom now, I can't promise we'll be back in time for dinner,” you say.

Leigh chuckles. Honestly, she feels the same way. “Well then, can I open this now?” she asks.

“Absolutely! Go ahead. I really hope you like it.”

Leigh quickly starts unwrapping your gift, her fingers deftly tearing through the wrapping paper. As the paper falls away, her eyes widen in pleasant surprise at the sight of the Lego typewriter.

“Oh my gosh, it's perfect! Thank you so much!” She carefully places it on the ground before wrapping you in a tight embrace.

“You're welcome,” you whisper, circling your arms around her waist and pulling her close.

When she pulls back, her eyes are brimming with happiness and something deeper—pure, unfiltered love. She stares at you, her gaze soft and intense, as if she's seeing you for the first time.

“I can't believe you remembered,” she says, referring to a conversation you had weeks prior. “This means so much to me.”

You smile, brushing a strand of hair behind her ear. “I just wanted to make you happy.”

Something in your words strikes a chord within her. Without thinking, she blurts out, “Come with me to Matt's comic book tour.”

Her eyes widen slightly as she realizes what she's just said. But she doesn't take it back; instead, she buries her face in your neck, breathing in your scent. With each breath, she finds the idea of being apart from you increasingly unbearable.

“I want you to be there with me,” she continues with more conviction. “I can't imagine doing this without you.”

She pulls back slightly, needing to see your reaction. In your eyes, she finds the same depth of love she feels for you, mirrored back at her.

“As you wish,” you whisper, leaning in to seal your promise with a kiss.

-

Dinner is a success, largely due to Amy's and your mom's excellent cooking skills. The pasta prepared by Leigh and Jules wasn't a total disaster, but it had its mishaps. After the first batch turned too soggy—practically mush—Jules had to dash out in the middle of dinner to buy another pack of pasta.

Leigh’s father made a brief appearance with his new family, stirring a bit of awkwardness between the exes. Luckily, your mother defused the tension by suggesting a family game. It wasn’t long before laughter filled the room, with Jules energetically shouting clues at those struggling to guess the words on their foreheads.

In the middle of the game, Leigh volunteers to do the dishes. You offer to help, but Jules quickly drags you out of your seat to be the next one to guess the word. While you’re preoccupied, your mom quietly slips out of the living room and follows Leigh into the kitchen.

Leigh is surprised to see your mom. “I've got this,” she assures her with a polite smile. Despite your mom having considerably warmed up to her, Leigh still feels a bit anxious in her presence.

Your mom simply picks up some dinnerware that has already been washed and starts wiping them dry with a towel. “Do you know why Y/N became a veterinarian?” she asks casually.

Leigh smiles, recalling your story about Max, the first animal you ever helped. “Yes, she told me about rescuing a pup. It was really touching,” she says, her eyes softening at the memory.

Your mom observes Leigh, who has already returned to busily washing the dishes. “That’s right. But there’s more to it,” she says.

Leigh stops what she’s doing and tilts her head. “What do you mean by that?” she asks.

“Y/N did get into veterinary school,” your mom begins, placing a dry plate on the stack. “But she dropped out after the first semester. She had this deep-seated dream of traveling the world.”

Leigh listens attentively, wiping her hands on a dishcloth.

“Her father and older brother are both veterinarians, running a small clinic in our town. Naturally, they encouraged her to follow the same path,” your mom continues, “and while she loved animals, she also wanted to explore every corner of the world ever since she was a kid.”

Leigh's hands pause in the sudsy water as she absorbs every word.

“Her father gave her his blessing, and off she went. She traveled the world for two years.”

“What brought her back?” Leigh asks.

Your mom takes a deep breath, her knuckles whitening as she grips the towel more tightly. “H-Her father and brother were killed in a car accident,” she says, each word seeming to be painfully forced out of her.

Leigh's hand flies to her mouth in horror. “Oh no, I... I didn’t know,” she stammers, feeling a rush of guilt and confusion. Why hadn’t this crucial detail come up before?

“It was a terrible time,” your mom says quietly, “but it brought her back home.”

Leigh is silent, guilt gnawing at her for not knowing such a significant detail of your life. She’s been so caught up in sharing her own thoughts and plans, and you’ve always been the listener, never pressing her to ask about your past. She realizes now how little she’s asked about your family.

Leigh abandons her chore altogether. “W-What happened then?”

“After the accident, without their expertise, we couldn't keep the clinic running,” your mom replies, her voice steadier now but still tinged with sadness. “We had to put it up for sale. It was devastating to lose what they had worked so hard for.

“For a long time, Y/N was depressed. She blamed herself for not being there in the last two years, for putting her own interests first. And with the clinic gone, she felt like she had failed to preserve their legacy.”

Leigh is at a loss for words, her eyes growing bleary. “I’m—” 

“Being a housewife all those years, I suddenly found myself needing to help put food on the table so Y/N could go back to school,” your mom explains. “For a year, she was just a shell of herself, hardly the vibrant person you know now.”

Needing a moment to process all these revelations, Leigh moves to the dining table and sits down. Her legs feel weak at the thought of you being so heartbroken. She knows grief all too well. Losing one person she loved nearly destroyed her; she can't imagine losing two at once.

“Y/N is the most… beautiful, wonderful and well-adjusted person I know,” Leigh says after a while. “I wouldn't have guessed she went through all that.”

“My daughter is a miracle,” your mom states with a soft smile.

“Thank you for telling me all this,” Leigh says sincerely.  “It means a lot to understand what she’s been through.”

Your mom nods and says, “I'm not telling you this just because you're her girlfriend. I'm telling you because I know she’s planning to follow you and leave her practice here in LA behind.”

Leigh's breath hitches as she takes it all in. Learning about your father and brother, she realizes she nearly forgot what she asked of you just hours ago. It's not just a job or a business you're leaving behind—it's a dream that keeps their memory alive, a part of you where they still live on.

“Please, don't ask her to leave everything behind,” your mom says, her voice almost pleading. “Just promise her that you'll come back for her.”

It’s not an easy promise to make—or keep. The mere uncertainty of what lies ahead holds her back. She can't stand the idea of breaking a promise to you or betraying your trust in any way.

Leigh's silence stretches on, and your mom speaks again. “If you can't promise to come back for her, just end it. Don't let it drag on. She's tougher than she knows. It'll hurt, but she won't be alone—I'll be there, and so will her friends and coworkers.”

Leigh balks at her. “I don't want to rush into a decision.”

But your mom isn't listening. Her concern cuts through her caution, compelling her to share more. “After we lost half our family, she was never the same. She’d sacrifice everything for someone she loves, always skeptical of a second chance. She loves like there's no tomorrow.”

It’s the one thing your mother said tonight that rings truest about you. You do love as if it's the last thing you'll ever do.

Before Leigh can respond, Amy walks in, sensing the tension immediately. “Is everything alright?” she asks, her eyes darting between Leigh and your mom.

Leigh suddenly realizes she's been crying, and so has your mom. Your mother excuses herself to the bathroom, leaving Amy looking concerned and bewildered.

“What was that about?” Amy asks.

Leigh, shaken and overwhelmed, struggles to speak. “I-I need to get the gifts for everyone. They're upstairs,” she stammers, then quickly heads to the bedroom, needing to escape and collect herself.

Amy watches Leigh leave, then reaches for the blueberry pie, trying not to read too much into the haunted look in her daughter’s eyes.

-

It’s a cold January evening when Leigh finally gathers the courage to talk to you. Your mother flew back to Maine three days after Boxing Day, and the rest of the holidays passed by in pure bliss. The two of you are curled up on the couch, a blanket draped over your legs, the remnants of dinner still on the coffee table. She’s been avoiding this conversation, clinging to the hope that something might change. But the more she thinks about the family you lost when you were younger, the more convinced she becomes that your mother was right.

“Can we talk?” Leigh’s voice is soft, almost drowned out by the movie playing in the background.

You mute the TV and turn to her, a look of concern immediately crossing your face. “Of course. What’s on your mind?”

“I’ve been thinking a lot about us, about our future,” Leigh says slowly.

It doesn’t immediately ring any alarm bells in your head, but your heart starts to race. “Okay…” you murmur. You can't help but notice her hands twisting nervously in her lap. You reach out to steady them, and as she looks up, her resolve breaks.

“I love you. You mean the world to me, but…I don’t know if it’s right for you to come with me.”

You frown, eyebrows stitched together in confusion and denial. “Leigh, what are you talking about?”

She looks away, her hands slipping from your grasp as she inches further into her corner of the couch. “I can’t be the reason you give up everything you’ve worked so hard for,” she says.

“I’m not,” you reassure her, trying to keep calm. “It’s just for a little while, right? Less than six months on tour. And it's not like we'll be non-stop; the schedule allows breaks. We can come back home in between. We’ve discussed this, remember? We have a plan in place.”

Leigh grows quiet, her gaze fixed on a spot on the floor. She takes a long breath through her nose, as if preparing herself for something even harder to say. “That's the thing,” she whispers. “I might not come back.”

Everything around you stills.

“What do you mean, you might not come back?”

Leigh’s eyes remained glued to the floor. “For the longest time, I’ve thought about leaving. Now that Jules is embarking on her own trip to Vietnam, and Mom is planning a long vacation in Europe, it feels like the best time to explore what's out there.”

“Leigh, we've been planning this together. It's just a tour. We'll be back,” you reiterate in frustration, starting to grasp at straws.

She merely shakes her head. “Everything about this place reminds me of Matt—both the good and the bad memories. Maybe I—”

“Great. The Matt card again,” you snap.

Leigh bristles at your comment. She stands abruptly and begins to pace. Seething. “Card?” she retorts sharply. “This is my life, my pain—”

“And you’ve just been running away from it all!” you counter, standing up too. “Running away from me!”

“Didn't you?” she fires back, her voice breaking. 

“What—”

“Didn't you do the same thing when you lost your—” Leigh can't finish the sentence. It hurts too much to even say it.

You take a step back, shocked. “How did you—”

“Your mom told me.”

The room certainly feels like it's closing in. Unable to stand any longer, your legs give out, and you collapse onto the couch, burying your face in your hands and massaging your temples. Leigh watches you for a moment, then sits beside you. She reaches out tentatively but pulls back, unsure of what to say or do.

Your hands fall away from your face, and you turn to her, your eyes filled with pain and betrayal. “You learned about me losing my dad and my brother, and your response is to... leave me as well?”

Leigh's eyes fill with tears again, and she looks away, unable to hold your gaze. “It’s not like that,” she whispers, her voice trembling.

“What if I promise that the clinic will be okay? Foreman can manage things while I’m away, I trust him,” you suggest, your voice wavering as the reality of the situation starts to consume you.

Leigh shakes her head, dabbing at her eyes with the back of her hand. “I can't,” she murmurs. “I can’t feel good about myself knowing I'm pulling you away from something important to you.”

“But you're what's important to me, Leigh,” you argue weakly.

“That’s not how it works, Y/N,” Leigh says, trying to fight more tears threatening to spill over. “It’s too imbalanced. We don’t need a relationship where one of us is sacrificing too much. That’s not healthy for either of us.”

You sit in stunned silence, her words sinking in. You've always been willing to sacrifice for the people you love, but now you see how it could be a burden for Leigh. 

You swallow hard, trying to compose yourself, the words sticking in your throat. “And you think the best for us is to be apart?”

She nods reluctantly. “I think the best for you is to not have to choose between your love and your life's work. I can't ask you to put anything on hold, not for me.”

“But I choose you, Leigh,” you say, tears now streaming down your face. “Doesn't that count for something?”

Leigh can’t help herself any longer. She moves closer, needing to comfort you despite being the source of your pain.

“It does,” she whispers, gently wiping away your tears with her thumb. “It counts for everything. But I need to know that you're not losing yourself to be with me. I can't live with that.”

With that, she pulls you close. You hold each other tightly, falling asleep on the narrow sofa, clinging to each other as if letting go would mean losing everything.

But by the time the sun has risen high in the sky, Leigh is already gone.

-

There are days when you feel bitter about Leigh deciding to break up with you, especially with weeks still left before the tour begins. You oscillate between anger at her decision and a reluctant acceptance that it might have been the right choice for both of you. More often than not, the anger prevails, leading you to drink yourself to sleep, only to wake up the next day to discover that nothing has changed.

Leigh is still leaving.

-

To your surprise, Amy willingly provides you with Leigh's flight itinerary out of Los Angeles. In the days leading up to her departure, you find yourself constantly formulating and discarding plans. Will you show up at the airport and whisk her away? Convince her to change her mind? Perhaps even show up with your own suitcase, ready to join her if you can persuade her at the last minute that she’s making a huge mistake?

Ultimately, none of your scenarios play out. However, you do find yourself at the airport, arriving ten minutes before her boarding gate closes. There, you spot Leigh standing in the lobby with a small suitcase. In that instant, you feel like you’ve accepted—for real this time—her decision to do this on her own.

You watch from the shadows as her gaze darts around as if searching for someone. Your heart swells with a mix of hope and sorrow, realizing she might be looking for you. You stay hidden, watching as she pulls out her phone and dials a number. Your phone vibrates in your back pocket. With your eyes still on her, you answer it.

“Hey, it's me,” Leigh starts awkwardly, as if implying that you might not remember how she sounds. You haven’t spoken to each other in weeks.

“I know it's you,” you reply softly.

“I'm about to board,” she says, and you can hear the reluctance in her voice.

“I see,” you say, struggling to contain the emotions that might slip through the cracks of your nonchalance. “Did you pack some food for the flight?”

She laughs, a tearful sound that squeezes your heart. “Yes, I picked up some donuts.”

“Sounds unhealthy, Ms. Shaw. Try to order some broccoli in-flight,” you tease her lightly.

“I hate broccoli,” she deadpans, her voice layered with a stubbornness you know well.

Then, she asks the harder questions, “Where are you? What are you doing?”

You mull it over, caught between honesty and the need to protect her decision. “I'm just hanging out in the clinic,” you lie, unwilling to reveal that you are there, watching her last moments before departure. “Will you call me when you land?”

She sounds like she wants to protest, but you cut in, “I need to know you're safe. It would really help me to know you're okay out there.”

After a few seconds, she agrees softly, “Okay, I'll call.”

“I’ll wait,” you say. “However long it takes,” you add, leaving the meaning of those words open for her to interpret.

They announce final boarding.

“Listen, I—I have to go,” Leigh says quickly. “Please, take care. Goodbye, Y/N.”

“Goodbye, Leigh,” you manage to say, your voice catching as you watch her walk away.

You end the call and pocket your phone. Watching her wipe away a tear and head towards her gate is almost too much to bear. You allow yourself a moment, a small smile playing on your lips, proud of her courage and saddened by her departure. You’ll be waiting for her call, but if it never comes, you'll understand. These moments don't erase the past several months you've spent getting to know Leigh.

And you wouldn’t trade them for the world.

-

At exactly ten in the evening, Leigh calls you from Boston.

[molinaskies]

Lanolin: Designed to be Dislikable.

Hi friends. I’ve had a number of people in my digital face over the last few months trying to “show me the light of Lanolin,” but I’ve kept these interactions private because there’s no need to put them on blast. Of course, they're mostly respectful and I’m often reminded that I have a right to my opinion, but there is always an undercurrent that I might have just missed this one small tidbit that could blow the case wide open because how could I possibly not like her? How could I not understand her character and be empathetic to her plight?

But I’ve watched the videos. I’ve read the think pieces. I’ve seen it all. But my opinion hasn’t changed and that does not mean I’m wrong… nor does it mean I’m right! We have two different opinions that should be allowed to co-exist.

I’m being a touch cross here, I recognize. Please forgive me for that, this once. But frankly, I am frustrated—not because people like Lanolin, but because many seem incredulous to the fact that I dislike her. And I can only assume that means I simply have not made myself clear.

Consider this my final take on Lanolin the Sheep until there is some significant development for this character.

I am allowed to dislike Lanolin because she is a fictional character whom I’ve done the research on and have come to that conclusion. Done. That’s all she wrote. Go home.

That aside entirely for the sake of argument, I am allowed to dislike Lanolin because she is supposed to be unlikeable as per her role in this story. I dislike Lanolin because I dislike assholes, but I also like Lanolin because she is doing her job very fucking well! lol

Lanolin is not supposed to be in the right. She is a character who is making major mistakes due to her lack of experience combined with her arrogant dismissal of others, and she will eventually be punished by Mimic’s betrayal to teach the audience some sort of lesson. If half of this comic’s runtime has been about punishing Sonic—the titular character—for his mistakes, then Lanolin can get punished once. I would bet real world money that this will happen.

So many characters are sus of Duo by now and have tried to do something about it but Lanolin gets in the way because she can’t listen to reason. The only reason Silver and Whisper “go rogue” is because Lanolin wouldn’t listen to reason—and her response was still disproportionate because when Whisper tried again to explain herself, Lanolin made her hit the deck.

Lanolin is Sonic with some pieces missing. We know this because Lanolin directly cites Sonic as her inspiration for getting involved in the restoration. However, Lanolin looks at Sonic, sees his behaviour, and emulates it without any understanding or regard for how he has earned the right to do what he does. Sonic is insolent, not arrogant, because he only denies authority when it isn’t earned. Sonic is defiant, not self-righteous, because he believes there are multiple ways to solve a problem. Sonic is empathetic, not sympathetic, because he takes the time to learn and experience what it means to live on the other side. Lanolin has modelled herself off of Sonic because Sonic is a hero, but she’s missed the bigger picture of what that actually means.

Lanolin is cold, unkind, and unwilling to be wrong because she thinks she knows everything she needs to be in this game. That is inherently unlikable to some people and therefore justified.

But there’s more to this, isn’t there?

A huge defence of Lanolin as a character is that “she has baggage that makes her rough around the edges,” and you know what? Fair! You would not believe how empathetic I am to that, trust me. Imma get into it. But the reality of the case is that Lanolin is her own keeper, and if Sonic, Tails, Knuckles, Amy, Rouge, the Chaotix, Tangle, Whisper, Silver, Blaze, Jewel, Belle, and many others can carry their baggage around and still treat others with respect and without verbal and physical abuse, then there’s no excuse. Yes, it takes time to get there, and the whole point of Lanolin as a character is that she hasn’t learned the “everyone is useful just the way they are” and “a leader is nothing without her team” lessons, yet.

But allowing Lanolin to lash out at the world only to let her hide behind her trauma is a deeply reductive portrayal of trauma survivors that I find aggressively problematic. Further, it is a failure to Lanolin as a character because, again, that is not the fucking point of her.

This is the one time I will ever ask anyone here to just “take my word” for something. I’m not comfortable airing out too much of my personal issues on the internet. But below is what I can share.

I come from a very, very broken home that instilled a lot of unproductive defence mechanisms within me. In short, I used to be very mean because I was neglected, and acting out against my peers and showing off my skills gave me attention.

The big ticket, though, is I thought I was good. I thought I was Great. Awesome. Outstanding. AMAZING. I was a natural-born leader with a drive for justice who was good at a couple things. I thought I was doing everything right because teachers liked me and I was getting opportunities. What I never saw—never could have possibly seen until it was spit right in my face—was how I was treating everyone around me as beneath me because I thought I had it in the bag.

It wasn’t until I learned about a very public smear campaign against me that I got a wake up call. When I saw what people were saying, it shattered my entire paradigm not because of just how heinous it was, but because of how much of it was true—and that broke my heart. All I have ever wanted to do was help people. Fight for people. Protect people. Elevate people. Support people. For me to learn I was doing the exact opposite of what I set out to do absolutely destroyed me.

After that, I immediately switched up my game. I pulled out all the stops and really focused on being kinder, empathetic, and encouraging. I started to become more self-aware and mindful of how my emotions and behaviour impacted others, but it still took years to even start to comprehend that I was traumatized, let alone the ways my trauma impacted my relationships and behaviour.

I used to be Lanolin. I was a mean girl getting progressively meaner from ages 11-17, and I am still in active recovery. I still make mistakes. I still fall from grace occasionally, but I am working on it. I’m almost 24 now.

Remember when this used to be about a cartoon sheep? Back on track LOL.

I promise you that while Lanolin has some moments of clarity, she is not largely aware of what she’s doing. She’s not evil. She is not unworthy of love. She just needs time for the story to let her learn.

I am not saying Lanolin does not deserve a redemption. What I am saying is that down her current path and with her current behaviour, she has not yet earned one. And here’s the thing: even though what I’m about to say probably will not happen because this is a kids comic directed at 12 year olds, just because Lanolin might eventually get her punishment, see the light, and apologize for her wrongs while acting on solutions, no one she hurt owes her forgiveness. Whisper can still tell her to fuck off. Silver can send her to outer space, Sonic 06-style. Tangle can yeet her back to kingdom-wherever the fuck she-come from (hush, I know it’s Riverside). 

Why? Because the reality is that even if you are a changed person and have learned and grown from your past discretions, you still hurt people. Even if they do forgive you, they may never trust, and they will never forget. That is the reality I and many others like me live in daily, and to be frank: I think it’s entirely fair. I made mistakes, and I gotta pay the consequences. I deserve grace and patience, but that can only go so far. The people around me are human the exact same way I am.

I personally believe that I have never misunderstood Lanolin as a character. She’s snarky and inexperienced and abrasive entirely by design. She is meant to showcase the “wrong” ways to be a hero and will be corrected. But just because she is a rough-and-tumble person who had a bad day at work does not mean she can come home and treat the world as her personal shitter. No one has that right.

And if you disagree with me, good! Welcome to MolinaSkies.

[thetriumphantpanda]

i work from nine to five; hey hell, i pay the price | Marcus Pike

Summary | You use the office halloween party as a way to prove you can push yourself out of your comfort zone. You didn't expect that to mean that the apple of your eye, Marcus Pike, would take an interest in you.

Pairing | Marcus Pike x Plus Size F!Reader

Word Count | 4.4K

Warnings | Explicit smut, workplace 'romance', negative talk about bodies, body issues, plus size reader, oral sex (f receiving), unprotected PiV sex, dirty talk, mention of food and alcohol, halloween vibes, costumes, pet names, but nothing else.

Authors Note | I told myself I wasn't going to do halloween writing, and then I had a very vivid image of Marcus Pike bending me over his desk at a work party.... So I did some halloween writing. As a woman who lives life in a bigger body, this one goes out to everyone else who has felt the way reader has felt. These are MY OWN experiences, attitudes I've had given to me, and given to myself, they aren't universal, we all feel differently about ourselves, but if you've ever been made to feel less than because of the way you look, just know I see you and that Marcus Pike would absolutely take you apart regardless of how thick your thighs are. If you liked this, please consider supporting me through my Ko-Fi.

Divider by @saradika

Main Masterlist | Ko-Fi

You tug at your skirt a little, trying to pull it down over your thighs. It seemed like a good idea at the time, to choose something skimpy for the office Halloween party. A way to challenge yourself, finally start to work through the years of bullying at school, and the off-hand comments from your almond-mom who had always told you things like, ‘you could stand to lose a few pounds’, or ‘surely a salad would be a better idea?’. 

It had been such a relief when you’d gotten this job two years ago, finally earning enough on an FBI salary to move out of your family home and into your own space. A space where you weren’t judged for how many fries you had on your plate, or how the pair of trousers you’d chosen to wear made your belly look. It had been good for you, and ever since, you’d been trying your best to challenge yourself to do things you never thought you’d ever have the confidence to do. 

Things like standing in the office, in a pair of fishnet tights, with a skirt so short that if you bent over, Dave from Finance would get a complete eyeful. Looking around though, you couldn’t help feel like it had been a terrible idea. Amy from HR looked absolutely phenomenal in her devil outfit – a red bodycon dress that looked like it had been painted on, showing not a single imperfection on her body – and Jessica, who worked reception, in a Catwoman jumpsuit that hugged her figure perfectly. You don’t think it would ever go away, the comparing yourself to everyone else, even though you knew that Amy and Jessica would totally have their own insecurities about things. 

You were trying to make yourself at small as possible, crowding yourself into the corner of the room, hand clutched around a plastic cup full of ‘spooky punch’, that Hannah, the office manager had put together, which comprised of mostly vodka, some orange juice and what looked like a whole bottle of green food coloring, with some eyeball candy floating around in it. She’d put together a Halloween playlist, which was currently blasting The Monster Mash at a decibel you think should be illegal, and everyone had contributed to her spooky buffet, which was just normal food cut into shapes – like your addition of frozen pizza that you’d cut out with a ghost-shaped cookie cutter. You know you should go and mingle. Adam, on your team has already tried twice to get you to join their little group, so you relent, and walk over, giving everyone a warm smile. It’s all going well, until Alison, nods her head in your direction and stats speaking. 

“Did you work late?” She asks, to which you shake your head. 

“No, why?” 

“Oh,” She grimaces, “I just didn’t think you’d dressed up, is all.” 

And you know it’s mainly because she’s oblivious to mostly everything, but it smarts. Sure, the orange turtleneck is something you’d worn to work before, as are the black platform heels, but the skirt that ghosts the bottom of your ass and the fishnet tights that are still probably one size too small are not something you usually wear, nor are the fake glasses, with thick black frames, or the fucking magnifying glass you’re clutching. You sigh, make your excuses and walk over to the buffet table, picking up one of the slices of pizza you’d brought. Once you’ve eaten that, you reach for one of the cupcakes at the back of the table. It’s iced like a pumpkin and the cake looks to be chocolate, which is your favourite. You’re peeling off the wrapper and about to take a bite when someone interrupts you. 

“They’re delicious.” 

You’d recognize that voice anywhere. Marcus Pike. Head of Department. Not your boss, but your boss’ boss, and the most beautiful man you think you’d ever laid eyes on. You’d sat in on meetings that he chaired, supposed to be taking notes but instead focused entirely on him and how he commanded the room. The way he talked with his hands, and how much you wish you could have him run those over your thighs. Or the way he would chew on his bottom lip when he was concentrating, wondering whether he’d like it if you did that if he were to ever kiss you. 

“Oh.” You exhale softly, suddenly uber aware of the fact he’s probably just watched you eat the ghost-shaped pizza, and now, not a minute later, getting ready to bite into the cupcake, you go to set it down on the table, but he stops you, hand gently holding onto your wrist. 

“Please,” He says softly, “I made them, so I need the ego boost.” 

You smile a little, finally meeting his eyes, “You just said they were delicious, what do you need my opinion for?” 

“I remember the raspberry muffins you made last week,” He smirks a little, “And the apple turnovers the week before those, and everything else you bring in, I need to know what the office star baker thinks about my effort.” 

You’re going to refuse, say you’re already full, despite the pizza being the first thing you’d eaten that evening, that you’ll take it home with you and report back on Monday, but his beautiful brown eyes are soft, almost pleading, so you sigh, peel the rest of the wrapper off and take a bite. It’s actually delicious. He’s put some kind of orange flavouring in the icing, and the cake itself is really good. 

“You were right,” You smile, “It is delicious.”

He smiles, like he’s won a prize and it makes you feel a bit fuzzy inside, that this man next to you has been affected by your praise. 

“Great costume, by the way.” He compliments, and you don’t miss the way his eyes trail over your body. 

“You mean you don’t think I ran out of time and came in my office clothes?” You tease. 

“You’d wear that skirt to the office?” He’s smirking at you, and also offers you a wink, which has your hand dropping to the table, holding yourself up, why on earth was Marcus Pike flirting with you? “It’s good, Velma, right?” He motions to the magnifying glass abandoned on the table. 

You chuckle a little, “First prize, got it first time,” You then take a moment to take in his costume, he’s wearing a brown jacket over one of his usual shirts, a brown satchel is draped across his body and he’s got a hat on, but it’s the whip that really gives him away, “Indiana Jones?” You say quietly. 

“The one and only.” He smiles, opening his arms a little. 

You think it must be the amount of vodka that Hannah put in the punch, but even so, your next question shocks you, “Do I ask where you got the whip from?” 

He looks around dramatically, “Just checking Amy from HR is out of earshot,” Then he leans in a little closer, “It’s from my own personal collection.” 

You reach your hand out, letting your fingers run over the material where the handle is holstered in his pocket. It feels expensive, although it’s not like you have much experience with them to pass judgement on what’s expensive and what isn’t.

“Feels expensive,” You hum, “Guess that head of department salary has to get spent on something.” 

He reaches down and takes your hand in his gently, running soft circles over the skin on the back of your hand, “You really do look lovely tonight,” He speaks softly, “Enjoy the rest of the evening.” 

And then as quickly as he was stood in front of you, he’s gone. You let out a breath that you didn’t realise you’d been holding in, focusing on the way your chest is heaving and you can feel your pulse in your head. You pick up your plastic cup and down the liquid that’s left in the bottom, wincing at the strength of the vodka, then deciding you need a top up. 

You mill about for a little bit longer, but still feel like a bit of a spare part. You’ve shown your face, spoken to everyone you should have, and now there’s a glass of wine and a bubble bath with your name on it back home. You pick up your coat from the back of a random office chair, grab your bag from your own desk, and sneak out as quietly as you can. You’re halfway down the hall, almost to the elevator, when you hear a voice from behind you. 

“Running away?” 

You turn around, Marcus Pike is leaning against the doorframe to his office. He’s taken the satchel off, and the whip is no longer in his pocket. He’s crossed one ankle over the other, arms crossed over his chest. 

“Feeling a little like a spare part,” You shrug, “And there’s a glass of wine calling my name at home.” 

He nods in understanding, “You drink whiskey?” He asks. 

“If I have to.” You answer back. 

“Well, how about you stay and have one with me,” He offers, “Leave that wine for another day.” 

You shift awkwardly from foot to foot, because why on earth would Marcus Pike want to have a drink with you? It feels like someone somewhere is having a good old laugh at your expense, but you feel your feet leading you towards him, brushing past him and into his office. 

You’ve been in here a handful of times before, mainly to drop of reports and papers, and only once whilst he’s been there. It’s been a very professional relationship up until now, no flirting, nothing inappropriate. You drape your coat over the arm of the small couch he’s got there – you imagine he sleeps on it when he hasn’t got time to go home during crunch time of investigations.  Your bag sits on the floor next to it. 

He leaves the door open, giving you an out if you want it. He points to the couch, tells you to sit down, which you do, pulling once again at the tiny skirt, trying to cover the way the skin of your thighs bulge through the holes of the fishnet tights, ultimately failing, as Marcus reaches into one of the drawers of his desk, pulling out two crystal tumblers and a bottle of whiskey. He fills them both equally, handing one to you, but he doesn’t sit next to you, he just leans against the edge of his desk. 

“I always thought it was a myth,” You muse, “Agents with whiskey in their desks.” 

He smiles at you, “It’s in there for big wins,” He explains, “Cracking cases and that kind of stuff.” 

You nod your head, taking a small sip of your drink, wincing as it drags down your throat, “What’s tonight’s big win?” You ask, fluttering your eyelashes and then cringing a little at yourself. 

“You looking that sinful.” 

You’re taking a sip when he says it, so you end up spluttering quite unattractively at his words. Is he serious? You dab at the corners on your mouth, setting your glass down on the floor, “Sorry,” You mutter, “But are you for real?” 

He smirks, “As real as you and I.” 

He pushes himself off the desk, puts his drink down on it as he moves. He takes three wide strides until he’s stood in front of you. You look up from where you’re sat, hands folded in your lap. He reaches out, drags the fake glasses from your face, throws them absentmindedly onto the couch next to you. You’re breathing heavily as reaches out with one of his hands. The flat of his palm cupping your jaw, whilst his thumb traces along your bottom lip. 

“Do you want me to close the door?” He asks, voice lower than you’ve ever known it. 

You have no words, your tongue refusing to work, so you nod instead, because as much as you’re still thinking someone is going to come in and tell you you’re being pranked, you also want to know what he’s going to do next. He’s back to you in moments once he’s closed the door and turned the lock. The light above is harsh, but it’s needed, because the blinds are closed. 

He's standing in front of you again, this time both his palms are cupping your cheeks, and he’s leaning down, ever so slowly, until his lips are a hairs breath from yours. God, you want him to push the last few millimeters and kiss you, but he’s stopped. Waiting. And you don’t want to break first. You’ve done it before, gone to kiss someone, and then felt them laugh just before you can, because why would they want to? 

“You gonna kiss me, pretty lady?” 

“I want you to kiss me first.” You admit on a shaky breath. 

You’ve got your eyes closed, so you can’t read his eyes, look for the sense of regret in them, so it’s a shock when you feel his lips on yours. It’s so soft, barely there, before he’s pulling away, still close enough to feel his hot breath over your skin though. 

“There,” His thumbs are moving across the skin of your cheeks, “Now you.” 

So, you do. You reach your hand around to the back of his neck, pull him into you and really press your lips to his. His bottom lip slots between yours and you suck it gently into your mouth. You smile a little at the sound that comes from his throat, then he’s opening his mouth against yours and you’re following, doing exactly the same, letting his tongue behind your teeth as it melds with your own. His hands are dropping from your face, trailing down your shoulders. He leans forward into you a little, his hands under your arms to tug you up. 

You drag your mouth from him to stand up, his hands dropping to your hips to guide you behind his desk. There are nerves bubbling under your skin because you know what he wants as he pressed your ass into the wood. He wants you to sit on it. To be fair to the department, it’s a sturdy looking desk, but the thought of the way it’s going to creak under your weight makes you want to crawl into a hole. Marcus doesn’t push though, just brings his mouth back to yours, letting his hands wander a little, dragging them back up your body to palm your tits through the layers you’re wearing. 

“I think you did this on purpose,” He speaks against your mouth, “Like you knew this woman had always driven me wild.” 

You don’t mean to, but it makes you laugh, “Don’t tell me Velma from Scooby-Doo was your sexual awakening?” 

He laughs back, doesn’t confirm it, but doesn’t deny it either. He’s looking down your body, having pulled back a bit, “Fuck,” He mutters, “Every time I look at you, it gets better.” 

“The magic of a slutty Halloween costume.” You shrug. 

He nods his head, but speaks again, “It’s not just that though,” He’s speaking softly now, “I think you’re the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen, wandering around the office all the time, driving me mad.” 

This would normally be the time that you’d try and fight against the compliments being thrown your way. Tell them they must be lying, or joke that they need to get their eyes tested. But somehow, it doesn’t feel like you should do that here. There’s something about Marcus that makes you think he wouldn’t lie, wouldn’t string you along this far just to have a laugh at your expense, so you don’t do it, for the first time in your life. 

You reach up to his shirt, undo two of the buttons, “You know,” You hum, “I think exactly the same as you, with your whip or not.” 

He breathes out, taking hold of your wrists to stop your movements, “Let me make you feel good?” He asks. 

You meet his eyes, feeling heat rise across your face, but you nod anyway, because you’ve come this far, and you can already feel wetness pooling in your panties. He drags his hands down your body, grips your hips and forces you to sit on the edge of the desk, dropping to his knees in front of you. He’s looking you straight in the eyes, as he pushes the material of your skirt to gather at your waist. Your legs open further, and Marcus groans when your movement reveals the see-through black lace of your panties. It hadn’t felt right to dress as a sexy Velma and wear your normal underwear, is how you justify it. 

You’re expecting him to tell you to lift up so he can drag your tights off you, but instead, he hooks a finger through the material at your groin and fucking rips them apart. It makes you gasp. You’d chide him for ruining them, but at this point you don’t care. They were cheap, and if it means you’re going to have his mouth on you quicker, then you’re not going to complain. 

Marcus leans forwards, you can feel the heat of his breath splaying across the lace material, and then he drags his tongue across the length of your folds over the lace of your panties. Even with the material barrier between your skin and his mouth, you’re tipping your head back in pleasure, letting out a breath as he repeats his movements, dragging his fingers just behind his tongue on his last pass of movements. It’s not enough. 

“Please, Marcus.” You beg quietly. 

“What do you want, pretty lady?” He asks, looking up at you with angelic eyes, as if he couldn’t possibly think what it is you want from him. 

“Your mouth.” 

“You already have it.” He points out, proving his point by licking another stripe up your panties. 

“Marcus,” You sigh, “Move the… fuck… move the damn material out of the way.” 

He lets out a huff of amusement, “See,” He says, doing exactly as you ask, hooking his fingers under the material and moving it to the side, “All you had to do was ask.” 

He doesn’t waste any more time now. Letting his tongue dip between your slick folds, dragging the wetness that’s pooled at your entrance up to your clit, where he flicks softly with the tip of his tongue. You feel his thumbs spreading the lips of your cunt, baring you to him so he can really start to work you up. He presses the flat of his tongue to your clit, working it gently as your hand settles into the curls on his head, anchoring him there. He’s doing all the things you love, moving between wide stripes of the flat of his tongue, and quick flicks with the tip, until your hips are grinding against his face and you’re biting down onto your bottom lip to keep quiet. 

“You taste so fucking sweet, pretty lady,” He speaks against your skin, surprising you a little as he pushes not one, but two of his fingers into your soaked cunt, “Feel good?” 

“Oh God,” You breathe out as he hooks his fingers inside you, pressing against a spot you had no idea even existed inside of you, “Don’t stop… don’t fucking stop.” 

He doesn’t, the obedient man that he is. He starts dragging his fingers in and out of you, whilst his lips wrap around your clit, pulling it into his mouth, laving it with attention from his tongue, which sends you over the edge. 

Your thighs are clenching around his head as your body convulses. All you want is to cry out, call his name into the room, but even though you can hear the music from the party down here, anyone could be walking past, and it would be just your luck that it would be Amy from HR. His mouth is working you through those aftershocks as your thighs ease the pressure around his head. 

He's breathing as heavy as you are when he stands, slotting himself between your open legs. You can feel the hard length of him pressing against your silken center, as he dips his head to kiss you again, your taste intoxicating on his tongue. 

“Can I fuck you?” He asks, almost desperately, “You gonna let me?” 

“Please.” Is all you can get out, as he drags you off the desk, flipping you around so your front is pressed against the wood of the desk. 

He’s got his hand on the nape of your neck, pressing you down. You can hear him undoing his belt, dragging the zipper of his jeans down. You shuffle a little, widening your stance as he takes his place behind you. You can feel him dragging his cock through your folds, gathering the slick he’s pulled from you, before he’s plunging into you in one go. It takes everything you have not to scream. He’s big. Stretching you like no-one has before and it feels so fucking good. 

Marcus is still gripping the back of your neck as he starts moving, his other hand gripping the plush cheek of your ass, spreading you open even more as he slowly drags himself in and out of you. He’s going slowly, and you think that the way his breath is hitching in his throat means he’s struggling to keep his composure, so you decide to have a little fun. 

When he’s pulled almost all the way out of you, you turn your head as much as you can with his hand resting there, looking over your shoulder at him as you wiggle your ass, slowly backing into him, letting your cunt suck him right back into you again. 

“Baby, you can’t do that,” He pleads, his fingers digging into the skin of your ass, “Carry on like that and this will be over before it’s begun.” 

“Don’t care,” You mutter, “Harder, please.” 

He starts pounding into you now, the sound of his skin slapping against yours is obscene. You’re both trying as hard as possible to keep the moans and groans as quiet as possible, and you can’t help but wish he wants more, that he’ll take you home sometime, unwrap you and let you scream for him, but you decide to focus on the here and now. 

“Touch yourself.” You hear demanded from behind you, “I want to feel you come on my cock.” 

You snake your hand underneath you, pushing the discomfort of how your arm is trapped between your body and the desk, and start tracing quick circles over your clit. You’re already sensitive, hanging on the edge from his mouth, so you press harder, move your wrist faster. 

“Feel so fucking good, baby,” Marcus groans behind you, “Close, ain’tcha?” He asks, “Go on baby, let go for me, let me feel you.” 

And it’s his voice that does it, that finally tips you over the edge, has your cunt clenching around him, walls fluttering and teeth biting into your bottom lip as your knees give way. Thankfully, Marcus is gripping at your hips, which helps to keep you upright. 

“Where, baby?” He asks, voice strained, and you don’t catch what he means, “Quick baby, where do you want me?” 

“Anywhere.” You groan out, “I don’t care Marcus, just come for me.” 

You think for a moment he might stay inside you, which would be fine, you thank the implant under the skin of your arm, but at the last minute he’s pulling out of you, feeling the hot slick of his cum on the skin of your ass as he lets out a low groan out of his mouth. He’s breathing heavily behind you, pulling his jeans back up. You try and move, to push yourself up, but you’re worried if you move further you might collapse. 

“Stay there.” He says gently, leaning over you to pluck a few tissues from the box on his desk, gently wiping away the mess he’s caused, pulling your panties back into place and letting your skirt cover as much of your ass as it can in your position. 

“You okay?” He asks softly, helping you to stand, tucking a bit of your hair behind your ear. 

You nod, because you are, you’ve never been fucked so thoroughly, never been made to come so hard in your life, but there’s an anxiety settling in your stomach. What always happens now is they’ll tell you they had a great time, but don’t think they want to see you again, which is going to be even more embarrassing because you have to work with this man. 

It's almost as if he can sense your anxiety, because he’s cupping your cheek again, leaning to give you a soft kiss on the lips, “Would you maybe want to go out sometime?” He asks, “I know we’ve done things out of order, but I’ve wanted to ask for a while.” 

You smile, because it does make you happy, that the man you’ve fancied for the best part of a year actually wants to take you out, “As long as you promise to take me back to yours after and let me see you naked?” 

He blows out air from his mouth, but his eyes are twinkling, “You drive a hard bargain,” He muses, “But you’ve got yourself a deal.” 

He’s moving from you now, over to the couch, picking up your coat and your back, motioning you over so he can help you into your jacket, hooking your bag onto your elbow, then moving to gather his own things, “Wait, right now?” You ask, sounding surprised, as he shrugs his jacket on. 

“I know a great diner just down the road.” He shrugs, picking up his satchel. 

He’s walking back to you, but you put a hand on his chest, “Aren’t you forgetting something?” You ask, watching a confused look fall over his face, you dart your eyes to his desk, where the whip from earlier is lying abandoned, “I’m only coming back to yours if you bring that.” 

You watch as a smirk splays across his lips. He snatches the whip from his desk, shoving it into the satchel, “Well, pretty lady, lead the way.” 

[autisticshadowthehedgehog]

It’s Sonic Gang Disney Movie Night! And it’s the Unstoppable Forces vs Immovable Objects! Let’s meet our competitors:

Knuckles “the last of his kind on a noble quest to protect a gem with trust issues, badass fighting skills, and a water-based spirit most of his lost culture was based around who wants to live out his fantasy of his people coming back and enemies turning into friends via continued applied trust” the Echidna who wants to watch Raya and the Last Dragon

Tikal “the curious and empathetic chief’s daughter who was really close with her now-dead grandma who yearns to return to a culture her people once had but have now abandoned and works to make peace with the dieties of her culture while being best friends with sentient water who wants to live out her fantasy of resolving her daddy issues and bringing her people and gods to peace” the Echidna who wants to watch Moana

Blaze “the heir to an entire kingdom with a lot of huge expectations placed on her by her deceased parents desperately trying to keep her deadly and dangerous powers under control which is an issue because they burst out when she’s emotional and she’s been repressing quite a bit of emotions only for an energetic, bubbly person to bring her out of her shell and prove that she can be herself without hurting anyone else” the Cat who wants to watch Frozen

Elise also wants to watch Frozen so two points for Blaze

Shadow “an alien scientifically created to be a living weapon meant to destroy who ends up befriending a little girl who teaches him to have humanity, after which he begins to appreciate life on Earth and fights to protect both it and the found family he’s pieced together for himself” the Hedgehog who wants to watch Lilo & Stitch

Sonic who wants to watch Wreck-It Ralph because he’s in it and things go fast

Amy Rose who wants to watch Sleeping Beauty because it’s “romantic” and “beautiful” but also so she can wait until the dragon scene and then start blasting “What I’m Made Of” and scare the shit out of everyone

Silver “was left alone in a barren wasteland for far longer than he wants to admit and honestly probably longer than he can remember who ends up finding one last bit of hope and who wants to live out his fantasy of bringing life back to his planet and seeing society grow around him as he finds a family of his own” the Hedgehog who wants to watch WALL-E. he’ll also settle for Lightyear he guesses

Cream who wants to watch Snow White because pretty princess sing to animals and spin around

Sally “the heir to an entire kingdom with some severe dead dad issues who ends up on the run as a child only to return and find her kingdom decimated by someone she once trusted who now has to raise a rebellion with her childhood sweetheart to dethrone the usurper and retake the land before he can destroy the entire environment” Acorn who wants to watch The Lion King

Vector who wants to watch The Great Mouse Detective and say “that’s what we do. we do that”

Shahra who wants to watch Aladdin. do i even have to

oh and Jet wants to watch Aladdin too but that’s just because he thinks stealing things is funny

Merlina actually does not want to watch Sword in the Stone it makes her uncomfortable however she will BITE someone if they don’t watch Coco next

Marine who wants to watch Finding Nemo because oooh water ooh australia oooh look at the fishies go. no she doesn’t have abandonment issues why do you ask

alternatively, Marine will make everyone watch The Pirate Fairy

Tekno who wants to watch Big Hero 6 because look at those robots go

Omega who wants to watch The Black Cauldron cause it has the most death in it

Rouge who would rather watch everyone argue than see any movie

Mighty and Ray just wanna watch Bambi guys

Big who wants to watch Fantasia because it calms him down. Omega does a quick ecosia search of Night on Bald Mountain and immediately likes this plan

Belle who wants to watch Pinocchio for obvious reasons

Charmy who wants to watch Peter Pan just to point at the tv when Tink is onscreen and look Belle dead in the eye and say “that’s you”

Espio who wants to die

Miles “Tails” Prower who can’t decide if he wants to watch Dumbo or Meet the Robinsons or if both will just bring up a lot of traumatic memories

and finally, Sticks the Badger, who wants to beat the TV to death with a wooden club and then burn Disney HQ to the ground

who will win!! vote now on your phones

[samobservessonic]

It’s the very first Amy solo story! She’s here! She’s wearing a great outfit! …Sonic’s about to ditch her again, booo!

We’re still  in those early stages, where Amy was the fangirl who Sonic didn’t want hanging around. StC Amy doesn’t stay in this role forever, but that’s going to be the basis of this story

Oh hey, they’re acknowledging one of the Post Mag stories! Glad that I factored them into my reading order now, even if my placement for reading some of them could’ve been improved

Don’t worry Amy, one day you’ll basically be the next leader after Sonic. But for now, she gets ditched. I know it’s the premise of the story, but it still makes me frown about how it’s inconsistent with other stories so far, where Amy has been allowed to come along on Sonic’s adventures and has been equally capable to any of the other characters. Tails still has one foot in the “getting left behind by Sonic” door, but lately seems to be getting included. And I don’t care for that role being passed onto Amy, even if it’s for a short time

My girl really just said “Oh no, what am I going to do about these Buzzbombers?” and then loaded up her crossbow to blast them out of the sky. Respect

For a bit of added lore, she even made the crossbow bolts herself

We get a short fight scene between Amy and the Buzzbombers, then Sonic returns after the false alarm

Amy smiles at the readers, while telling the others that there was nothing left behind that she couldn’t handle and that’s the end of the story. Even if I’m meh about Amy being used in the role that Tails has just graduated from, I am glad to see the first Amy story and know that she moves onto better things. By the time I started reading, there were regular Amy & Tekno stories of them having their own adventures together and that was my introduction to Amy as a character, so it is a bit weird to shift back to a time when the team believed Amy wasn’t capable, even if I already knew her character arc started out that way in StC

[seventyundercookedcrepes]

Sex drugs and America’s first chapter!

A while ago I did an interest check on a long-format hetalia fanfic, well..the first chapter is out!

(Credits to the artist @Nise tsuki on tumblr)

Sample content:

Read the rest here! https://archiveofourown.org/works/56589880/chapters/143832379

Amy strode across the sidewalk, her attention fixed on her phone. The area was lively enough. Students in cars rode by, music blasting from the inside. Others walked hand in hand shoulder to shoulder with their best friends to school just like her.

Except she was alone this time. Not for long though.

“Amy? The hell you doing here?”

A somewhat loud and annoying voice boomed from behind her. And it could only mean one person.

Amy sighed, not knowing whether to be pleased, annoyed or disappointed.

“Going to school, what else asshole?”

She turned around to meet eyes with the tall, somewhat tanned guy. He sported a black leather jacket with a black undershirt and some type of torn jeans.

Of course, those idiotic sunglasses he wears everyday despite the fact that it was such a cloudy and gloomy day. Not a single ray of sun shined through the thick clouds layering the sky.

“What? They haven’t kicked you out?” Allen said with a grin. Referencing all the times she was the main induction of the problems in the student body. Enough times to ensure that she wouldn’t be able to (successfully) apply for any scholarships after graduation.

“What about you? Selling drugs in the bathroom is way better than me apparently.” Amy rolled her eyes and groaned at the man.

“What they don’t know won’t hurt em. Besides, I ain’t a dumbass and get caught like you did.” His grinned widened. Bending over slightly to allow him to be closer to her height.

Amy frowned “it wasn’t even my fa-“ she paused before continuing, in a more somewhat controlled yet aggressive manner “It’s not my fault those stupid freshmen threw everyone but my bill away”

“Uh huh, sure toots.” Allen rolled his eyes. Grabbed hold of Amy’s cheek and pitching it teasingly. Turning her face beet red, he could practically see the smoke coming out from her nostrils.

“I gotta admit, it’s good seeing your face again.” He brushed his knuckles against her cheek playfully before finally pulling away

Crossing her hands, the girl raised an eyebrow to Allen.

“So what? Skipping school?”

“Why go to school and waste half my day in a prison when I can just have it easy and sell sweet sugar and earn a bunch of moolah?” He gave a sly smirk before flicking her forehead.

“Yet you haven’t dropped out. And they’re still waiting for you to show up to football practice.”

Allen rolled his eyes and sighed. “I don’t even bother. The teachers are annoying and the classes are fucking easy. I’m gonna win at life whether I show up or not. Besides, I have better things to do than going to football practice.” He adjusted his bag strap and smiled somewhat sweetly to his girlfriend.

That got a grumble out of her “wish I would do that….”

A sudden burst of laughter, snapping Amy’s head up to look at him.

He flicked his lighter and lit a cigarette. Taking a long drag from it and blowing the smoke into Amy’s face. In turn causing her to cough alittle and frown.

Allen looked down at her, smirking.

“Damn you’re such a goody two shoes. I swear, you’re worse than a golden retriever.”

Amy’s face turned an into a redder shade. Clenching her fists. “I’m only going because fucking Amelia and my parents force me. They’ll be up my ass the next day if I don’t show up, Jackass.”

He grimaced alittle at Amy’s statement.

“Ugh, Amelia.. I can’t stand her. She just won’t accept the fact that no one likes her. Why does she still think she’s good at what she’s doing? Everyone knows she’s just pretending to be loud and extroverted for Alfred.”

Amy rolled her eyes and plucked Allen’s cigarette from him. Taking her own drag.

“Tell me about it, Pick me bitch,”

Allen smirked and snatched the cigarette back.

“And she doesn’t know about us?”

“Unlike her an Alfred, we don’t boast that we’re dating. PDA is fucking weird.”

He snorted at the reference. Amelia and Alfred, the two were notoriously known for being the “It” couple In school. Loud, proud and the picture perfect American high school kids.

“Yeah she’s got it pretty bad for him huh? Can’t spend five minutes without him around before it’s whining and crying.”

“All she does is fucking whine….” She roll eyes before coming to a realisation. “Why are you walking in this direction?”

Allen shrugged, exhaling a large plume of smoke into the air with a chuckle

“Eh, I was loose for something to do with my day. Maybe sell some fake crack to stupid freshmen. Plus, I guess I could get some entertainment from watching you at cheer practice later.”

“Oh god no…” Amy buried her face in her hands in embarrassment and groaned.

The tanned guy let out a chuckle seeing her reaction. ruffling her hair teasingly

“Come on, watching you jump around and do those cute formations with those little Pom-Poms and that slutty little costume is hilarious.”

“What the fuckkkk…”

“Yeah yeah so tragic. What’s gonna happen first? You gonna burst into tears. Or pass out? Maybe even throw yourself to the floor and roll around sobbing and whine about how miserable cheerleading is”

He bent down lower to try and meet her eyes which were covered by her hands.

“I’m not fucking Amelia.”

“You act like it” Allen stuck out his tongue, revealing a round, sliver piercing as he pinched her cheek again

“Fuck you”

“Do it yourself”

Amy groans and punches him in the shoulder, making him chuckle seeing her attempt to hurt him.

“Come on, you need to agree that you and Amelia have SOME similarities. Like you’re both dramatic as hell.”

She just glares at him, rolling her eyes

“You do that alot huh?” Allen smirks

“Maybe because she used to cling to me like a lost baby chick…”

Amy flashes a fake innocent smile and speaks in a high pitched voice

“oh yeah! Definitely similar to me! A dumb blonde who can’t be 2 feet away from her man before turning into a whiny bitch and another who almost gets expelled for sleeping in the bathrooms with SOMEONE who couldn’t keep it in his pants!”

Allen snorted “that’s very true my dear.”

“I mean, at least one of us didn’t get suspended for a month for being idiotic and getting caught smoking weed in the bathrooms.”

Amy frowned. “At least one of us doesn’t live with their so-called Christian dead-beat mom who just came back from rehab”

Allen winces and looks away. The mention of his mother making him visibly irritated. He took another drag from his cigarette before muttering, “yeah yeah, don’t rub it in that you have a stable family.”

Noticing his reaction, Amy sighed and snatched his cigarette away from him, “I don’t either, man” exhaling smoke.

Allen looked towards her raising a brow. slight smirked twitching on his face.

“Since when did you get the balls to steal a cigarette from me?”

“Ever since yours went deep into me, asshole.”

Amy smirked back at him extending her palm.

“Sunglasses please”

The boy rolled his eyes, exhaling another large plume of smoke before digging through the pockets of his jacket and handing her some sunglasses, velvet in. Colour and heart-shaped, a smirk still plastered on his face.

“There you go, princess” he added

Amy slid them back onto her face. Taking a long final drag before placing the cig back in between his lips. “There’s shit show practice before first period. It’d be great if you actually showed up this time”

Allen’s smirk widened as she placed the cigarette back into his mouth

“Oh, please, don’t act like you wouldn’t be happy to see me there. You love it when I show up to watch you cheering.“ Allen muttered in a taunting tone, blowing out smoke with a sly grin. Bending lower, basically face to face with the girl.

“You’re the one that’s supposed to be on the field…plus way I’m better without you.”

Amy clutches her bag strap as she storms away towards school. Leaving Allen on the sidewalk.

The other students had already cleared out. At this point he’d be late. But it’s not like he cared anyways.

Allen scoffed, a smirk on his face as he watched her walk away. He muttered under his breath, finishing off his cigarette and tossing it to the ground

“As if. I’m the best quarterback this school’s ever had, the entire football team would struggle without me” Allen muttered, smirking before his eyes drifted over to his watch

“Damn, gotta go I guess.”

[garnetsandroses]

my vic and amy powerswap au concepts! they make guest appearances in a fic of mine that's still in the plotting stage. power/design/alt-trigger details below :>

(warning for talk about canon-typical violence and the dallon-pelham torment nexus)

amy/fusillade: flight, forcefield, projectile mini bombs that look like sparks (bud from mark). when her forcefield blocks hits, it lights up, emulating carol's breaker state. she isn't immune to her own bombs; they can disrupt her forcefield if she's not careful.

-i wanted her to have a kinda boring costume that fit new wave's aesthetics without going outside of the box too much -she triggered pretty young at ~12, so her style hadn't developed and she's not confident enough to ask for a redesign now -white; accent color is a muted red -cape is asymmetrical to reference glory girl's -name starts with f to match w/ flashbang

she triggered when she was hiding in the other room while her parents had an argument. both were worried about the future of new wave, and carol in particular said some nasty things about amy not belonging in the family. mark got angry enough to use his power unconsciously, the blast from the grenade scaring amy on the other side of the wall. it knocked over a photo of the dallons (taken before they had adopted amy), and seeing that last image of the perfect family she was never going to fit into finally pushed her over the edge.

straightforwardly, this contributes to her powers being a mash of her parents with flight thrown in bc i love me a good mover aspect to a trigger. just wants to belong -> emulates the best and brightest aspects of her family. additionally, i think that mark was most parental and present when amy and vic were at this preteen age (based on what he's mentioned doing for them like cooking breakfast), so that contributes to his larger influence on amy's powers.

---

victoria/salva: touch-based biokinetic powers w/ focus on enhancing people’s abilities and creating augments for self (aegis+hookwolf ping). minor brute abilities like enhanced strength, stamina but not notably above that of a very fit, trained young adult.

-cute nurse's outfit that allows for lots of movement. someone said it looks magical girlesque and i think that's just bc i've designed magical girls since 6th grade

-simple white and bright red w/ same half-circles on coat (as seen on my panacea design) to mimic the coils of a caduceus

-utility details: hat has elastic band to stay on head, satchel is insulated so she can theoretically keep biomass in there, jacket is easily removable so her sleeves won't get nasty

-really hard to see but her bag has keychains: a pom-pom, official prt merch of gallant, new wave merch of fusillade's red star emblem

-salva is my attempt to be punny by combining "salve" + "salvo" (the rapid attack/round of applause meanings) + a feminine ending to mimic the "girl" in "glory girl"

triggered around a year after amy (reversing the canon situation) when the latter went on a patrol with the wards, vic tagging along just to see what crimefighting was like. vic had been stewing over being left behind due to not getting powers, but that subliminal jealousy was resolved in the worst way. hookwolf tore into the wards patrol, aegis and amy being the worst off. vic ran forward into the fray to try and save amy while the others retreated, asking herself questions like "why can't i do anything to help," "why can't i be strong enough to do something," etc. it was finally when she laid her hands on amy, red connecting the two of them, that she asked the real question "why can't i have powers too?" and triggered.

active-combat aspect with self-buffing brutes wandering around -> power has limited effect on herself. not only could she heal amy and pump her full of enhancements like adrenaline and natural-brewed steroids, but vic could take the biomass strewn around and graft it to herself, augmenting her abilities slightly. just like in canon where both sisters have yet to realize full control of their powers, salva hasn't started walking around in a biomecha meatsuit yet, but that could theoretically work for her. if she didn't care about not getting put on a watchlist, ofc

[jungle-angel]

Too Many Mimosas (Rhett Abbott x Reader)

Summary: Christmas morning in the Abbott household is nothing short of awesome but beware when Royal takes on the role of bartender

"Daddy! Mommy! Daddy! Mommy!" Amy screeched as she ran in and pounced on you both. "Santa came! Santa came!"

You felt your husband's side of the bed shift a little as Amy rolled off him and ran out of the room to wake everybody up. "Motherfucker," he groaned, rubbing his face.

"Too early?" you mumbled.

Rhett looked at his phone screen on the nightstand next to the bed.....five thirty in the morning. "By my watch it is," he chuckled.

You laughed a little as he kissed your cheek. "Boys awake?" he asked.

"Nope."

"Good, lemme get a shower in before Amy and Hannah start running around," Rhett told you.

Quick as he could, he jumped into the shower and washed off the grog from the night before, only switching back into his pjs to stay comfortable. Tatum and Tanner were just starting to wake up as Rhett lifted one of them out of their crib and you took the other, the both of you heading downstairs to join the rest of the family.

"Hey, Doodlebug," Royal said to Amy. "Calm down alright? Ya'll gotta give momma and daddy a minute to get down here."

"Merry Christmas everybody!" Rhett said loudly.

Everybody welcomed you both into the living room, excited to finally be able to be together. The Duttons had all come down from Bozeman to celebrate with you, the whole clan having descended en masse the week before once school had let out.

"Alright, who's on first?" Kayce asked.

"Give everybody a minute to get settled," Cecelia told him. "And then we'll get everything handed out."

You heard the clanking of bottles in the fridge under the counter and Monica opening the hutch for the glasses. You knew that as soon as Royal started, things were bound to get very interesting.

"I GOT NEW BARBIES!!!!" Amy happily declared.

You and Rhett had to laugh. You had found four new Barbie dolls for Amy that you just wouldn't have passed up for the world. You two knew full well too that you would have to get her the dollhouse to go with them.

Hannah was so happy and excited to have finally gotten Barbies of her own along with a few hand knitted sweaters from Cecelia. Tate finally had a black cowboy hat to match his father's along with two brand new GI Joes and a bucket of green soldiers. All of the kids and even the grown ups had an absolute blast opening their gifts and finally, once all was said and done, Cecelia could throw breakfast into the oven.

"Alright drinks are ready, come and get'em!" Royal announced.

You yourself couldn't drink seeing as you were still nursing the boys but Rhett and the others enjoyed themselves to the fullest but by midday, you could tell that he and some of the others might need a nap later. Rhett's speech was getting a little slurred along with the others and his hair falling all over his face.

"Baby?" you said.

"Sup?" he chuckled.

"You might wanna go take a nap," you told him. "I think you've had a few too many."

"I've only had......maybe like.....four?"

You laughed. "Rhett I counted and you had six in the last three hours."

Rhett laughed and pressed a sloppy little kiss to your cheek. "Merry Christmas lovebug," he chuckled.

"And a Merry Christmas to you too Grumpy," you answered, kissing him back.

[eds6ngel]

✎ when i kissed the teacher | part four

summary: after steve kisses you at the easter brunch, some serious confidentiality breaches come to light. with this, how will steve explain to alena the reasons for your provoked behaviour towards him?

part one ♡ part two ♡ part three ˚⋆｡˚ full masterlist.

warnings: dad!steve. singledad!steve. 90s!au. fem!reader. use of y/n. swearing. mutual pining. slow burn. a whole lot of angst. hurt. a tiny bit of fluff if you squint. mentions of heartbreak. deep life talks to children. love realisations. mentions of food. mentions of alcohol. slight age gap [r is 24, steve is 29]. alena attempting to be a matchmaker. more warnings in future chapters! [3.4k].

After the diabolical mess of your recess break, you wiped away the tears that threatened to spill and braved the rest of the day.

With a death glare to Steve as you sent Alena off for the afternoon, you drove home with the music blasting, attempting to drown out your overflowing thoughts.

Entering your apartment, you throw your keys on the countertop, Amy turning around from where she was cooking a pasta dish for the two of you, “Hey, what the hell happened?”

“He fucking kissed me, Ames. Like slotted his lips against mine kind of kiss,” you reply with a huff, putting your head between your arms.

“Yeah,” she turns around, heading over to the sink with her saucepan and emptying the pasta into the colander, “That’s kind of how kisses work, hun.”

“No,” you grumble, lifting your head up once again, “He could’ve just pecked me. Would’ve made the situation a whole lot easier.”

Amy tips the now drained pasta into the pan of sauce, mixing the two ingredients together, humming away to your sentence, “I think you’re so hung up over this because you actually enjoyed the kiss. Am I correct?”

You walk over to her by the stove, watching the pasta and sauce combination bubble away, you leaning over and sprinkling in some basil. “I mean, it was nice…”

“Mhmm, that’s code word for ‘That was the best kiss of my entire life.’”

You huff in aggravation, “What do I do now, Ames? I told him to get the fuck out and I glared him down when he collected his daughter.”

She grabs two bowls from the cabinet, you moving out the way as she collects them from above your head. You, by routine, head over to the drawer to grab two forks, Amy replying, “Well, from what you told me at Christmas, you told him that you couldn’t date him, right?”

You nod, Amy using her wooden spoon to evenly distribute the food, “Then that’s his problem! He broke the boundaries you set in place! You can’t blame yourself for that, hun.”

She throws the dirty dishes into the sink, you putting the forks neatly in the bowls and taking them over to the table, “Yeah, but I didn’t back away. I enjoyed it, Ames. I am at a partial fault in this.”

She brings over two glasses, setting them in front of your bowls of pasta, “Nuh uh, I’m not having that. You can’t help the feelings you feel. He initiated the kiss, fully knowing that not only you feel the same back, but that you can’t date him. He’s ruining your life Y/N. He’s ignoring your reasons in favour of his own feelings!”

She takes a seat opposite, a bottle now sitting in front of you, the red liquid on full display, “But, I like him Ames! I really do like him, but this fucking job I have won’t allow me to. I’ve searched and searched and I keep getting the same answers of having to wait until his daughter is fully out of my everyday life. That’s four years away! I’ll be 28 by that time!”

Amy sighs, giving you a sympathetic look as she reaches for the bottle, screwing open the lid, “Hun, you’re incredibly stressed. It’s Spring Break now, you get a wonderful two weeks away from not seeing his face. And then once you get back, it’ll be a mere two months until Summer Break. Then, you’ll most likely never see his face again.” She begins to pour the red wine into your glasses, “For now, I want you to relax, enjoy this pasta I made and drink as much wine as you want. And considering your life at the moment, this bottle is going to be empty in less than an hour.”

You laugh softly at her comment, grabbing your wine glass and taking a sip, letting the liquid gently slip down your throat, “Yeah, I suppose I deserve a break. It’s called Spring Break for a reason.”

She takes a gulp before replying, “Exactly. Now, onto my life. You’ll never guess what happened with Nick today…”

And that is how you spent the rest of your evening: two very drunk women in their twenties, gossiping about life’s dramas whilst pampering themselves with every skincare product known to man.

It was lovely to have a female roommate who understood you. That was the beauty of womanhood. You would always connect on such a deeper level than you would with any man. And that was incredible.

You spent Spring Break attempting to process and live through your emotions. It spent many days tirelessly journaling your every thought to evenings crying into Amy’s shoulder about how shit men were.

But, it helped. Which meant when you arrived back in your homely classroom in the middle of April, you were ready to face whatever challenges this semester threw at you.

You knew you would see his face every morning and afternoon, but you weren’t gonna let that effect you as a human being. You knew your boundaries, your worth, you communicated that with him, and if he continues not to listen, then you don’t deserve him in your life. Simple as that.

As always, you were laying out your morning worksheets, ready for the children to complete when they arrived. However, a knock can be heard at your door, you turning your head to see the principal standing there in his presentable suit. “Good morning Y/N.”

You smile at him, although questioning why he came to your classroom. You were aware of the upcoming semester’s calendar events, so there was no particular reason he would be doing random classroom checks, right? “Good morning Daryl. How are you this morning?”

“I’m doing very well, thank you. I was wondering if I could just borrow you for a few minutes down in my office? Won’t be a long chat, just something we need to ask you about. Is that all right?”

You put the remaining worksheets on your desk, looking up at the clock to see that it would be at least thirty minutes before the first student arrived. “Of course!”

“Great, just follow me,” he replies, signalling you with his arm as you head down the hallway.

Once you reach his office, one of the front office staff is also present, waiting patiently for you to arrive. You take a seat, Daryl (otherwise known as Mr. Warlock) sitting opposite you at his desk.

“Now, during the Spring Break, Brenda here had to check our security cameras in regards to a stolen laptop from the fifth grade classroom. Don’t worry, that has nothing to do with you, but for safety reasons, we checked the security cameras of the other classrooms around that time just in case anything else went missing.”

You look at him with a confused expression as he turns the monitor around. You take in the image in front of you as you try to remain innocent. A blurry photo of none other than you and Steve kissing is shown right in front of you.

“Now, that is you, correct?”

You look at him in the eyes, keeping your face neutral as you nod, “That is me, yes.”

“Good, don’t want to accuse you of anything that isn’t true. Now, we have a strict no romance policy at this school, you are aware of that, correct?”

“I am sir, yes.”

He nods as he continues, “Now, since we didn’t get the previous context at first, Brenda asked Linda at the front desk if she had let anyone in, maybe a romantic partner of yours that had brought in something that you had forgotten. But, with her denial, we had to follow this man’s initial entry.”

As he flips through multiple images, there are red circles drawn around Steve’s figure. One of him talking to you prior to the kiss, one of him sitting on the rug, and the final one: him walking into the classroom hand in hand with his daughter.

There was no way out of this one. You were fucked.

“Am I correct in assuming this is the same man?”

You look down to the floor in embarrassment, your eyes no longer allowing you to stare into his, “That is the same man, yes,” you weakly reply.

Daryl leans back in his chair, pinching his eyebrows as he sighs, “I am extremely disappointed Y/N. You have been one of our top teachers here at Hawkins Elementary. I hadn’t seen better grades before you arrived. And now, you have thrown away your whole career for this. I assume you understand where I am going with this?”

You try not to let the tears spill, “I do, yes.”

He leans forward, looking into your eyes, although, you don’t look back, “This is a complete breach of student confidentiality, our whole team unanimously agreed on this in our meeting. Now, you are in luck considering this is our final semester of the year. I’m giving you this final semester to teach here at Hawkins Elementary and then I want you gone. Do you understand?”

You nod sadly, “I understand sir, yes. I am so sorry.”

He huffs in disappointment, “You should be very strongly feeling that. I am saddened to have to let you go if I’m being totally honest with you. And I’m also ashamed as this will be going on your permanent record, which will make it extremely difficult for you to get hired in another teaching position for a long time. It’s disappointing really considering how great you are at teaching kids. But, those are the rules set in by the state of Indiana, and I can’t be breaching them.”

You nod, “I understand. I know it means nothing now, but again, I really am sorry. I’ll leave here when I finish up the semester.”

“Thank you,” he replies, standing up and leading you back towards the door, “I’m saddened it’s ended like this. I hope you reflect on your behaviour and realise the damage that this has done. I wish you luck on your future endeavours.”

You purse your lips, “Thank you, Daryl. It’s been a pleasure working here. I mean… you know… teaching the kids, nothing else…”

“Don’t tie yourself in more knots Miss. L/N. I suggest you head back to your classroom now, your students should be arriving soon.”

The use of your last name felt like spiders crawling up your neck. You knew that your boss only called people by their surnames when he was being completely serious. Which understandably in this situation, he was.

“Of course,” you reply quickly, “I’ll head off. Bye now.”

Once you realise you are out of his eye-line, you let out a small growl of anger, Steve seeing you and saying, “Good morning Y/N— Hey, what’s wrong?”

Without a doubt in your mind, you simply sneer at him, “Go to hell, Steve,” walking straight into your classroom and slamming the door, completely forgetting that Alena was right beside him.

But, why does it matter anymore? You’re already fired. What’s one inappropriate phrase going to do to your ruined permanent record?

Steve is driving Alena back home after her day at school. However, this time is unusual. Alena is usually a babbling mess about her adventurous day, but today the pair sit in silence, Alena twiddling with her thumbs as the sound of the radio plays silently in the background.

“Daddy,” she mumbles, Steve quickly looking over and replying, “Yes, pumpkin?”

“Why was Miss. L/N mean to you this morning?”

He sighs, the inevitability of his daughter recognising the tension between you two finally coming to light. “You know sometimes people can hurt others? Like… that time when Timmy rubbed his mud-covered hands on your favourite dress?”

She nods at him, Steve asking her, “And how did you react to that?”

“Umm,” she thinks for a second, “I yelled at him. Wait— Did you ruin Miss. L/N’s dress?”

Steve chuckles to himself, his daughter always knowing how to slightly lighten the mood, “No sweet-pea, but do you remember why Timmy said he did that?”

“He said he did it because he loves me— Oh my God,” she exclaims in the most dramatic voice, “Are you in love with Miss. L/N?”

The excitement on his daughter’s face makes the situation all the more saddening. He understands your reasoning, but if you wanted to, he wanted to, and his own child was more than happy to let it happen, why on Earth could the government prevent you from living out that life of love?

He nods, trying not to let a few tears fall, “I am pumpkin, yes. Daddy is in love.”

She bounces on her seat, kicking her feet and giggling with a cheesy smile, “I love Miss. L/N and now you do too! Does that mean I will get to see her all the time?”

The knife kept sinking deeper and deeper into his heart, “That’s the problem sweetheart, I can’t be in love with her.”

She huffs in annoyance, flailing her arms up in the air, “Why not?”

“Because she’s your teacher. Daddies can’t date their daughter’s teachers. That’s the rules.”

Her face turns to one of forced anger as she sinks in her seat, crossing her arms over her chest, “Stupid rules.”

Steve moves his hand from the steering wheel to rub his daughter’s shoulder in support, sighing out, “I know sweetie, I agree with you.”

She sits up again, begging to her dad, “Can’t you just break the rules? Just this one time?” She holds up one finger as she drags out, “Pleaseeee?”

His daughter’s persistency was making it harder to keep his emotions stabilised, him replying, “I’m sorry sweetheart, but Miss. L/N said no. And we know what we do when people say no.”

Alena sinks in her seat once more, her once angry expression now turning into a frown. However, her mind was also racing, thinking of many different ways to convince you to date her dad. And she was willing to try them all out.

By the start of May, you couldn’t hold in your secret any longer. Kids were little balls of emotion after all, you had to give them time to process your departure.

The kids were all sat silently on the mat in front of you. It was the Friday three weeks before the end of the school year, you praying that the time you gave the kids was enough for them to take it all in.

“Okay everyone! I have some very important news!” you shout calmly, the kids eyes shining up at you at your announcement.

“Now, as we all know, you will be moving up to second grade after the summer and I’ll no longer be your teacher,” you say, a few faces frowning at the reminder, “But, I will also be leaving this school completely. I won’t be teaching here anymore.”

“So, we won’t ever see you again?” Harry asks, tears threatening to spill from his eyes.

His reaction made your emotions start to pour out too, you holding back the tears. “Um,” you cough, “That sadly will be the case. But, that’s life, you know? Not everyone is meant to stay forever.”

“But, I want you to stay forever!” Ashley wails, a few kids following suit as they begin to feel comfortable in the depressing atmosphere.

“Hey, hey, guys,” you softly say, directing the attention of the kids once more, “It’s okay, I promise. You still have three more weeks with me yet! The most important thing is we’re gonna make lots of new memories and have tons of fun before I go. That’s great, right?”

The kids nod unanimously, many wiping their tears away, as you begin to direct them out to their parents for the end of the day. Many parents had shocked looks on their faces from their children’s puffy, red eyes, but it seems like the kids took on the task of explaining the situation for you.

That was the positive thing about teaching seven-year-olds, they were extremely open.

It was currently Monday lunchtime at Hawkins Elementary, you sending the kids off to the lunch hall for the next hour, glad to be spending some time to yourself. The leaving process was hard, you slowly removing non-essentials from your classroom day by day, the complete classroom clean-up having to take place the first Monday of Summer Break.

However, after sending the last group of students on their way, Alena continues sitting at her seat, twiddling her thumbs as she looks to the floor.

“Hey honey,” you say softly, hanging up the children’s paintings to dry, “Why haven’t you gone to lunch with your friends?”

“I wanna ask you something,” she quietly whispers, you stopping your task and sitting on the small, blue seat next to her.

“Ask away my love,” you smile.

“Um…” she starts, seemingly nervous to ask the question she desired, “Are you leaving because of my daddy?”

The words that came out of the seven-year-old’s mouth shock you to your core. What the fuck did Steve tell her?

You cough slightly, trying not to let the situation become too uncomfortable. Well, it was you who was more uncomfortable, the young girl sat beside you was just curious. “Honey, there’s some things as teachers that we can’t share with you. You know how daddy has probably taught you not to give out your full name to strangers?”

She nods as you explain further, “Well just like how you can’t do that, I can’t tell you why I am leaving. It’s a thing called privacy, sweetheart.”

“But… But you aren’t a stranger to me!” she begins, the next words she speaks being the upmost truth you’ve ever heard in your life. “It just… Daddy loves you, but he said he can’t love you because you’re my teacher. But, if you’re leaving, does that mean you broke the rules? Did you get in trouble?”

You pursed your lips as you stared into Alena’s blue eyes. It was heartbreaking that a seven-year-old girl figured out the ways of life that young. She shouldn’t be knowing all this stuff, be understanding the rules of the education system surrounding love and relationships. And to say you were angry at Steve for telling his daughter his love for you was an understatement. No parent should get their kid involved in the middle of their relationship drama. That was strictly between the two of you.

But, you were already fired. No amount of disguising the truth was going to improve your permanent record. It was fucked. So, what did you have to lose?

You nod, taking her small hands in your own, “Yes, honey, we did break the rules. Your daddy and I kissed and the principal found out. I have to leave because I broke the rules, that’s what he said. Now, you can’t go telling your friends that, okay? This is a secret between just us.”

You tried your hardest to explain it in a way that her young brain would understand, not going into too much detail of the actual ins and outs of the situation involving the security cameras and confidentiality breach.

She nods, “Okay, I won’t tell. But… it’s not fair that you have to leave. You love daddy too, right?”

That was the burning question. Did you love him? Or did you not?

You sigh, “I do love him, yes sweetheart. But, that’s just how life is sometimes. We can’t be with everyone we love.”

You hated that you had to admit that truth to a kid. She should be learning about the hardships of love in her teenage years, not as a seven-year-old.

“Life is stupid,” she mumbles out, pouting as she crosses her arms. Her facial expression makes you giggle softly, beginning to stand up and hold out your hand, “Come on, you’re gonna miss lunch at this rate.”

Her lips curl up in a smile at the mention of lunch, her wrapping her hand in yours as you lead her down to the lunch hall, asking her what she was eating for today.

Because after all, that was your favourite part about teaching: the innocence of kids distracting you from your everyday problems. And now, you wouldn’t even have that anymore.

this is the penultimate chapter guys! one more chapter to go to complete this five part series! i hope it ends in a way that you all love! plus, i may or may not be allowing you to have input in spinoff ideas :)

taglist: @livsters @bakugouswh0r3 @nix-rose @ihatepeanutss @cats00089 @suitelif3 @clincallyonline17 @crowssixof comment if you want to be added!!

→ next chapter.

[a-french-coconut]

Travis Stoll (Part 5)

The ride to New York is fortunately devoid of monsters trying to eat them or hunt them for their personal entertainment.

Unfortunately for his dearest friend, it means that Travis needs to find someone to bother relentlessly.

"Wiiiiill"

"Willy"

"William"

"William Andrew Solace"

"I never told you my middle name you stalker."

"Irrelevant to this conversation. Mine's Jeffrey by the way."

"Liar."

"Fine, it's Gertrude."

"I wish that was true."

"Your grandmother is named Gertrude, I'm sure she would love to know that you find her name funny."

"Travis I need to answer me truthfully."

"Never darling."

"Have you ever stalked me ?"

"Of course."

"You're insane."

"Mmmh, how's Nico ?"

Travis cackles gleefully at the the gurgling noise Will made choking on his apple juice.

"I'll do you one better, how's Katie ?"

"Irrelevant again. Don't think you can distract me."

"I'll be sure to tell her that next time I see her."

"Please don't, she's getting really better at creating her own freaky plants."

"I'd pay to see you get eaten by a carnivorous flower."

"You're way tastier than me, it'll go for you before me."

They banter for a while before Argos calmly ask them to shut up until they arrive.

That is until Will begins a conversation with him and Travis is left gaping at the ultimate betrayal he just witnessed.

He spends the rest of the trip pouting and mumbling about traitorous living lamp and the good old times where you could kill a giant and nobody batted an eye.

When Argos finally stops in front of Central Park, Travis practically flies out of the car, Will taking his sweet time just to annoy him he's sure.

After bidding many goodbyes, Argos finally leaves them, the Strawberry Delphi car disappearing in New York.

"Where are we going now ?"

"Can't you enjoy the fresh air for a while ? Look around and get out the most of this trip !"

"You don't know."

"I don't know. But it can't be that hard, we could just walk until we get some creepy, about the entering the lands of the dead vibe."

"That's your brilliant plan ? Walking ?"

That's when finally Travis registers what Will is wearing.

His usual flannel.

Orange, and frankly atrocious, cargo shorts.

Flip flops.

Travis stares for a long time at his friend's feet, too much time for it to be considered normal.

"Will you've got to be fucking kidding me !"

"I've been wearing them since we left Camp, Travis !"

"Flip flops ! On a quest !"

"Well if you had such a problem with them, you should have told me that at Camp.", Will crosses his arm pettily, a light amusement dancing in his eyes.

"How did Kayla even let out ?"

"Irrelevant."

Travis rolls his eyes at his friend's antics and takes his arm.

"Come on doctor, we have a door to find."

"Lead the way, mon ami." (mon ami : my friend in French. I head canon that Will is French)

It takes them the whole day to find the door.

Just because the dryads of Central Park were bored and wanted some distraction. Not only that, some of them are still angry at demigods for hurting their trees during the Battle of Manhattan.

When they finally stand in front of a grand rock, the sun is setting.

Next time Travis comes to New York, he's leaving with that damned park and its blasted spirits burnt to the ground.

"Katie probably wouldn't like that."

"She'll get over it."

"Sure. I'm not healing you when she inevitably stabs you."

"Whatever. Behold the Door of Orpheus !"

"How do we open it ?"

"You have to sing Staying Alive while dancing the Macarena."

"Orpheus didn't know the Macarena, why would it open his door ?"

"Flawless logic doctor, as always. Just sing some of your healing hymns, it should open it."

Will begins to hum softly, his hands glowing golden at the incantations.

When his voice gets louder, his whole body is glowing and yellow flowers erupts from the ground at his feet.

A loud rumble echoes, the rock disappearing to reveal a tunnel going straight to darkness.

"Enjoy the sun while you still can, sunshine. We're going underground."

Will sighs, takes a little moment to feel the sun heating up his skin then follow the son of Hermes in the tunnel.

part 6 posted !

[iboatedhere]

i've got two if you're cool with it, do with them what you will:

summer vibes: the smell of sunscreen june prompts: dandelions

and let's go with post-canon 👀♥️

“I think you missed a spot, sweetheart.”

Henry looks up, a white cast of sunscreen covering his entire face and even more on his fingertips. 

“Where?”

Alex laughs and rubs in an incredibly thick spot on the outer edge of Henry’s ear. 

“There, I think I got it.”

“You shouldn’t tease,” Henry says, upending the bottle of sunscreen and squeezing a dollop into his palm before rubbing it onto his arms. “SPF is very important.”

“I know it is, babe, but I don’t think you have to reapply every twenty minutes.”

“It hasn’t been that often, and even if it has been, there’s nothing wrong with being proactive. Skin cancer is no joke.”

“You’re going to smell like a coconut for the next decade.”

“Suppose I’ll just need to take a very thorough shower tonight,” Henry says as he works on his other arm. “If you’re good, I might let you join me.”

Alex grins and lowers his sunglasses over his eyes. 

It’s a nice thought for a nice day.  

The sun is bright and warm when he tips his face into it, and the blanket is soft beneath his hands as he leans back. 

There's a couple a few yards away, her head in his lap as she reads, and just beyond them, a mother braiding dandelions into her young daughter’s hair. 

Further down the hill, a man throws a ball for his golden retriever, and at the curve in the path, two kids buy fresh sliced fruit from a brightly colored cart. 

There’s pop music blasting from someone’s shitty Bluetooth speaker, and sirens and car horns sound off in the distance. 

It’s a symphony of everyday New York City life. 

It’s beautiful, if he doesn’t look at the teenage girl with her phone up and pointed in their direction. If he doesn’t wonder what Twitter account it’ll be posted to or what tabloid it’ll be splashed across. He doesn’t worry about what they’ll say about their body language or how he hasn’t shaved in a few days. That Henry’s hair is longer now, or that it’s a Wednesday afternoon and they’re sitting in the sun in the middle of Prospect Park. 

If he pretends that he doesn’t see Amy and Cash posted nearby, looking out of place in their dark suits as they scan the crowd. 

If he doesn’t think about how he might have squeaked out a few years of normalcy, maybe, a few administrations from now, when he’d be replaced by a newer, younger–but not necessarily hotter–First Son. Alex would have the time to finish school, pass the bar, and get a job at a respectable firm before he decided to get into politics and step back into the public eye on his own terms. 

He can’t live that life because he fell in love with Henry, but he can’t imagine living any kind of life without Henry. 

Henry, who never stood a chance at anonymity no matter what. Who had been photographed more times before his first birthday than Alex has in his entire life. Who is part of a royal bloodline and obligations. Who could walk away from it all, give up the title, and still be hounded by the press, both destined and doomed. 

“Hey,” Alex says, sitting up and wrapping his fingers around Henry’s wrist. “I love you.”

Henry blinks at him from behind his Wayfarer Ray-Bans. “And I love you,” he says. “Is everything okay?”

Alex wants to ask if he still thinks it was all worth it. The drama and the sleepless nights. The vitriol from his grandmother, brother, and certain corners of the press. If he’d do it again if it got them to this moment, sitting together in the park, drowning in sunscreen. If he’d be willing to wait a little longer, push a little harder for that life they both want. Privacy and family and a future. They can still have that, but it won’t be easy. Nothing ever is.

Instead, he leans forward for a kiss that Henry doesn’t pull back from but doesn’t move toward either.

“You know there’s a teenage girl filming us,” Henry says, because of course he sees her, too. 

“Does it matter?” 

Henry shakes his head and smiles as he closes the distance. 

From now on, they’ll be at each other’s side, and it’s the only thing that matters. 

[sweetredbeans]

Just gonna randomly ramble some things here about the Sonic Movies okay cool. (PS. This is absolutely not meant to be mean if you didn't like the trailer: you are 100% allowed to dislike it. This is just me rambling my own thoughts ^v^)

I'm already immediately tired of people absolutely BLASTING the movies for choices that they don't like without actually thinking about why those choices might have been made.

Tom being a cop. Okay. What other Earth profession follows the stereotypical "hero" role (the role that Sonic fills in his games) any better? So, a profession where you are saving people from "bad guys" by beating them up. Because that is what Sonic does in Sonic 1. Follows Robotnik around and beats him up and rescues the people (flickies) he was being mean to. They clearly wanted to parallel that idea and yeah, Sonic doesn't like cops and that makes sense given who he is, but I can also look at the movie and go "Oh, they wanted that parallel for a reason and that's why they made that decision" not just because they want to engage in copaganda.

Why is Amy not here yet. Money. Plain and simple, guys. Amy doesn't sell as well as Shadow. Period. Sorry. And nobody knows if they'll get another movie after this. They might, yeah, but 3 movies in a franchise like this is already a lot, and 4 is REALLY a lot. Yes, it is being more common now for something to have 700 sequels, but it is VERY not guaranteed, and if they wanted to get more hype and make more money, then Shadow coming first makes WAY more sense. And trying to shoe-horn her into this movie would absolutely be a disservice to her personality and backstory, as well as Shadow's--they wouldn't be able to properly develop either of them in one 2.5 hour long movie.

Sonic is working for GUN so he must be pro-military. I reblogged a much better-worded post about this earlier, but I am HIGHLY inclined to believe that GUN is USING Sonic to get to Shadow by playing off something adjacent to "He's gonna destroy the world oh noooooo". Let's be real here: GUN would NEVER let Sonic go get Robotnik again, they blackbooked him HARD for a reason. So I am highly inclined to believe that while Sonic may START working for GUN because they ask for his help, they are not going to stay amicable for the whole movie (especially given the fact that we see soldiers around Maria's dead body and somebody is going to tell Sonic about that) But clearly they aren't going to give something like that away in the first 2 minute trailer guys.

Gerald is here. I don't have a great answer for this one aside from the fact that they needed someone to play Eggman's role from SA2, and Eggman himself isn't set up to do it. Theoretically, SOMEONE had to bust Shadow out of GUN prison, and having Gerald be a hologram or robot or something set up to take revenge on GUN later would make a lot of sense. It's also possible that he was also frozen or stasis-ified and got let out once GUN figured out Project Shadow still existed and then took his revenge idk we'll just have to see won't we?

This is just a random last point but...if you go back and watch the first trailers for either of the other Sonic movies, they are VERY different from what we actually saw and LOADS of stuff is either massively changed or majorly taken out of context so...that could be good or bad.

In conclusion: we'll just have to wait and see, but these are my thoughts and predictions woo!

[mallowmelt-down]

I just went to see the Barbie movie for the second time and I’ve been wondering how the KOTLC gang would react to it so here’s my thoughts.

Keefe: He ordered an ‘I am Kenough’ sweatshirt before the credits even finished. He definitely says that Ken is literally him. He memorized Ken’s entire song and of course he used his mimicking skills to do it in Ryan Gosling’s voice. Secretly, it was hard for him as an Empath to watch the movie, especially with Sophie and her strong emotions sitting next to him.

Sophie: She thinks it’s an absolute masterpiece and 100% cried during the Billie Eilish song “What Was I Made For” given her own past with the Black Swan. Since none of her friends truly understands what it means to be human, she called Amy that night and they chatted about it for hours. She would definitely sneak out to the Forbidden Cities to see it again with Amy.

Fitz: He has had some experience with Barbie during his trips as a kid trying to find Sophie so he vaguely understands the importance of the movie. He respects it even though he didn’t relate to it. He pretends he understands the confusing human jokes despite the fact he doesn’t get it at all.

Biana: She totally fell in love with all the different fashions and tried to recreate some of the outfits afterwards. She found the human interpretation of mermaids hilarious when she saw mermaid Barbie. She was shocked by the treatment of women in the real world and had to ask her mom about it later.

Dex: He was forced to take the triplets with him so he spent most of the movie trying to get the three of them to stay in their seats. His favorite character was Allan and he broke into an ATM machine later so he could go buy an Allan doll. He noticed Sophie was sad after the movie so he dyed Iggy the Barbie pink color the next day to cheer her up.

Tam: He insists that he hated it and the pink gave him a headache but truthfully enjoyed the musical numbers and secretly added all the songs to his playlist. He will also put the songs on blast whenever he visits his parents to piss them off. Linh forced him to buy her a Barbie right after the movie.

Linh: She liked it and was very amused by the fake waves on the beach. She was disappointed to hear that the pooping dog Barbie toy was discontinued since she desperately wanted to buy it. She found some Barbie inspired pet outfits to force poor Princess Purrfins into later, with Tam’s reluctant help.

Marella: She loved all of it, especially the cute Kens. Dex helped her hack into the human Internet afterwards so she could read about all the drama behind the scenes. She spends an entire ability lesson with Fintan talking about it, much to Fintan’s disdain.

Wylie: He thought it was very thought provoking and Maruca teases him when he tries to analyze the deep symbolism of the movie with her. He decides to take an intensive human studies class after watching it and sees that there may be more to humans than he thought. Like many others, he cried over the idea of his mom being just a girl at some point in her life.

Maruca: She added a pink streak to her hair for a week afterwards. She really liked the Barbies’ blunt honesty during the Nobel Prize scenes. She later tried to make a smaller version of the pink Barbieland heart border with her Psionipath ability for fun.

Stina: She’ll tell Sophie it was a dumb human movie but genuinely enjoyed the human world scenes the most. She really related to Sasha the most.

Elwin: As the only adult who attended, he got the tickets for everyone, held seats, and made sure everyone had popcorn. His favorite character was weird Barbie and wants to start remodeling his house like hers. He joins Dex and buys as many Barbies as he can hold to take back to the Lost Cities. It was hard for him to watch as a doctor when Ruth said “Humans only have one end.”

Comment your own headcannons, I would love to see them!