#and by keeping this person in conditions where they don't have to look for other sources of support and friends

[ts-janus-rp-blog]

"You're welcome." Remus smiled then nodded, "Sounds good! If you ever feel differently let me know. Or if you want anything else done to your body. I'll happily pay for any of the surgeries. Mhm... Can't agree with you more. Flesh is gross sometimes. Mhm, that's true, but it could make you feel somewhat better. That's true!" He kissed emiles shoulder, "And I think it's adorable, no matter what you do." He nods, then he works down to emiles hips and his stomach. "Yeah... Mhm... You have the cutest stomach, do you know that? You're not too skinny, but not too big either. You've got a little bit of chub to make it adorable." He kissed his stomach.

"There are chances that he doesn't care. But I won't count on it, is all I'm saying. He may want Roman off the hook now that he's got Roman 2.0, I guess you could say." The man leaned back in his chair as Virgil watched the video. "Nope. They keep mentioning him, and yet...they're not doing a single thing to save him. It's like theyre talking about a ghost, or someone that's already dead. Hm, personally Roman is more my type, I like Romans big shoulders. But I see what you two see in this ex. Hm... That's a possibility... Especially since I'll be sending the dogs to this address, so it's clear that you know where they are. So you could, theoretically, kill the ex very easily. He may take that as a real possible threat..."

The man snorted, "Aw, I would've liked to have seen Roman in a ring gag, shoot. But I would've loved to have seen Romans face as he realized you were serious and he had to wear it." He chuckled, "I bet it was priceless. Oh?" The man leaned over to see the photo, only to chuckle even more at seeing it. "Oh, yeah, that's perfect. It's like he's made for those sort of outfits! He's adorable! Can I show that to the boys? I bet they'll fight over each other to get their hands on the photo."

"I bet he would. Ah, yeah, if you don't condition him enough he would cry the first time you do it. Judging by how loudly the mutt protested when they arrived, you may have him on your ass too. Mhm, smart. Gotta condition his mind to associate you with love and pleasure. Give him a sort of... Stockholm syndrome sort of thing. He's gonna look very cute with a big tummy, I bet. Oh, before you get to that point, would you want me to do a full checkup on him? Just to make sure he's healthy? You don't want him to be sick when he's pregnant, after all."

"Well, for Roman it won't be much harm to him. I'll do it the most humane way for him. As for the mutt..." The man chuckled darkly, "Who really cares about him, really? Let's just say... It's going to be so extreme that there won't be a way to reverse the process. He'll be a permanent doll for the rest of his life. But, again, who really cares? As for Roman... I'll do it how some therapists do it, just hypnotizing him. It may take some time, but he won't know the difference by the end of it. Also, if you want, later down the line, I could make Roman a hybrid. That way if he ever does escape..." He chuckled, "Everyone will just treat him as property, as your official property. Won't that be fantastic?"

Patton knocked desperately at the strangers door, praying someone, anyone was home. His heart beat as fast and loud as the rain thundering against the sidewalk. He was sure he was being followed, they were going to catch him. They were going to drag him back. He wasn't sure if whoever lived here might be worse, but he was willing to risk it at this point. Anything to escape.

{@moralpuppylover2}

Janus didn't know who would be at the door. It was late, but his master won't surely be home at this time. He normally doesn't get home until the sun starts to come up.

So, as the dog hybrid walked up to the door and opened it, he wondered who it could be. And if he should open it at all... Who knows, he may get in trouble with his master for opening the door. But, his curiosity was getting the better of him-

He stopped when he saw the soaking wet cat standing at the doorway. He could tell that this cat needed help almost immediately. Well, if his poor state of clothes were anything to go by. His eyes flickered up and down the sidewalk before he grabbed pattons arm and pulled him inside.

"are you alright?" Janus nervously asked as he grabbed a towel from the mud room. "Well, that's a stupid question, of course you're not alright! Are you...running away from your owners?" As Janus walked, the collar around his neck would jingle loudly. And even though it was cold outside and even in the house, he only had a pair of boxers on. Because of that, Patton would be able to see the numerous large scars that covered his body...and the countless amounts of fresh bruises.

@moralpuppylover2

[emoisthenewemu]

╭────── · · ୨୧ · · ──────╮

VIDEO GAMES

╰────── · · ୨୧ · · ──────╯

TOGE INUMAKI X F! READER SMAU

A/N THERE IS LOTS OF VERY IMPORTANT TEXT AT THE BOTTOM PLS READ

pt1, pt2, pt3, pt4, pt5, pt6, pt7, pt8, pt9, pt10, pt11, pt12, pt12.5, pt14

Pt.13 “Mustard Leaf"

꒰ ୨୧ ─ ・┈ ・ ─ ・┈ ─ ・┈ ─ ・┈ ꒱꒱

꒰ ୨୧ ─ ・┈ ・ ─ ・┈ ─ ・┈ ─ ・┈ ꒱꒱

Your first week back at school Inumaki avoids you like the plague. You don't think he ever looked at you once. Not when you came back into the classroom to say hi to everyone, not during conditioning (where he just so happened to be on the other side of the room at all times), not when you were being dismissed for the day and walking back to your dorms. You stand there for a while with Maki, it feels strange because you have grown so accustomed to having Inumaki walk you back to your room. But things have changed whether you like it or not. So you ignore the dull ache in your heart, looking back at the boy who definitely noticed the way you seem to be searching for him.

Turning back around you walk off, looping arms with Maki who has been uncharacteristically happy since your arrival back. Before this Maki wouldn't even hug you. He watches the back of your head, your ponytail bouncing with every step you take, your cute pink converse that you drew little stars and hearts on when the two of you were chilling in his dorm room one day. He wrote his name on them, he wonders if it's still there.

You turn around again as the boys round the corner towards their dorms, looking at person you miss most in life. The hardest part of it all-is that he is right in front of you. You had no idea it was possible to miss someone you see every day.

Maki focuses your attention back to the path in front of you, pulling you away from the trash can you almost walked into. The two of you laugh, she calls you a fucking dumbass.

Toge looks back to find the two of you giggling, it's nice to see you laugh. You've looked so sad ever since your return. His heart is warmed at the sight of you. But he catches you turning your head to get one last glimpse of him, so he looks away, acting as if he had not been stealing glances allll week.

Later that night you decide you cannot take it anymore. Siege says he's online, it's almost twelve in the morning so he has to be in his dorm. You put on a hoodie and march out there, making your way all the way across campus to the boys' dorms. They put them far apart for a reason, but you don't care. Maybe you should have out some pants on, some socks as the holes in your crocs seem to invite the cold air to go seeping through. Your body is covered in goosebumps.

You're almost there but you pause-a moment of clarity hits you.

Are you being crazy? Is this too much?

Your question is answered when you spot him standing outside. You are unaware but he is in a much similar place you are in-he would be lying if he said he wasn't walking out of his dorm with every intention to see you. That was until he actually spotted you of course, he suddenly freezes up as your figure begins to move closer.

"Toge!"

Oh fuck no.

He books it back to the entrance, but it seems he forgot-yes you are kind of fucking crazy because you chase him. Making it just in time to catch the door before he tries to open it. When did you get so fast?

"Toge no!" You plead as he tries to move your arm out of the way. And then the two of you begin to almost wrestle for the door handle, pushing your bodies against each other, using both of your strengths to your advantage. "You can't...fuck!" You stop as the boy begins to overpower you, prying your cold hands off the door. "You can't ignore me forever!"

And then you almost fall, so of course he catches you. He would never want to hurt you, but quickly releases his hold on you, slapping your hand lightly with furrowed brows. God, you annoy him sometimes. He hates the way you are fucking pouting at him; he hates the way the both of you are panting after the struggle that was trying to keep him from going back inside-he hates the fact that you are wearing shorts and no socks-shivering right before his very eyes. It's cold out here, you're going to get sick.

And then he laughs at the ridiculous situation the two of you have found yourselves in. You are definitely determined; he'll give you credit where it's due.

You giggle but are afraid to laugh too much. There's nothing funny about this actually, you need your favorite person back. He drags you inside, pulling you by the wrist and scoffing when he feels how cold your skin is. The first thing he does is grab you a blanket, wrapping it around you. And he looks down only to realize that the two of you have the same pair of crocs on. His eye twitches, yes, you annoy him.

"Sorry! I ordered them for the both of us.... thought it would be cute. That was before.... well, you know"

He rolls his eyes and sits down on his gaming chair. You sit on his bed in the same spot you always used to. It feels different now.

"Okay, so I have a lot to say, like a lot and I know for like more than half of it you're gonna be like 'well what the fuck does that have to do with me?' and you're right but I just need you to understand where I'm coming from. Why I am the way I am" You begin, looking up at the ceiling as you nervously rock your leg up and down.

He nods, purple eyes taking in every inch of you. You look so afraid.

You take the biggest sigh of your life, it feels like you can finally breathe. "Okay! So basically, when I was young my parents were in a fucking cult-the star religious group, time vessel association, whatever the fuck. And like it was really weird and scary; they were super obsessed with me and my brother. Wanted to use our power for who knows what so they would do these like experiments on us and make us do really weird shit. Honestly, I can't even remember most of it. Pretty sure I blocked that all out but just know it was fucked up. So then when I'm a bit older this guy takes over and everything gets like a million times weirder, and he starts telling us that all non-curse users need to be wiped out-that they're not pure. So understandably my parents got really scared and they wanted to leave but my brother didn't! He got really close to the dude actually and started becoming a part of whatever they were doing so he refused to go"

You breathe again and he waits, you are sure he's sick and tired of listening to you speak. You wish you could hear him speak. "And long story short, they killed him. I don't know how, my parents won't tell me, but he was like their golden child so obviously they took it really hard and that's when they started hating curse users. They ended up joining another religion-another cult that is arguably just as bad.... they did actual fucking exorcisms on me to try and drain me of my power! But it never worked"

And you begin to choke up, bottom lip wobbling at how crazy this must sound. It's exactly why you never spoke about it to anyone-you're ashamed. "And I think the only reason they let me fucking come to this school is because my brother wanted to go.... but they always fucking told me if I did one thing wrong-anything they didn't like they would bring me back home. You have no idea how many times I would meet random guys, sometimes even grown ass men that they would tell me I might marry one day....c-cause' they don't want me to end up with another curse users" A tear falls from your eye, you wipe it away with your sweater.

"They just hate me and everything I am! It hurts so much all I ever wanted was to impress them! And I'm not trying to make you feel bad for me I just need you to understand that what I did was never because of you. That you weren't enough because Toge I have never met anyone like you before! You are so so amazing and I wish I would have told you that sooner I was just afraid....and I was always in fear of what direction my life would go. Always so uncertain of what my future was gonna be.... dating anyone was the last thing on my mind. If anything, it made me hate all guys and want nothing to do with them!"

You are basically full-on sobbing by this point, ugly crying-God you feel so embarrassed. "I just wanted them to be proud of me! It's the only reason I said yes when he asked. I thought if I did something that makes them happy while also being a sorcerer they would change their minds and let me stay....because Inumaki the only thing worse than living my life wanting you would be living it without you"

"And fuck! I am just so so sorry I hurt you! I can't believe I did that to you! You deserve so much better and I-"

"Stop!" He finally speaks; the blue light of his computer makes his marking more visible than ever. You think they look so beautiful on him.

You are frozen not because you wish to be but because you have no other choice. It is like you have no free will; it almost scares you.

But he stands up and hugs you. You feel so comforted and complete, it is a feeling that nobody, certainly not even your parents have made you feel. You feel safe. You keep crying but he doesn't mind, he pets your hair and just allows you to let it all out. You aren't sure how long the two of you stay like that, but he pulls away when you finally stop. And he wordlessly drags you to the bathroom, giving you tissues and letting you wash your face before grabbing you some water.

"T-thank you Toge" You hiccup as the two of you find your ways back to sitting on his bed.

He feels bad. He had no idea all of that would be at play. He was just so caught up in you that he forgot about everything else, that life happens and not everything will go the way it's supposed to. Or maybe it does because you sit here in his arms, and it feels like the biggest weight has finally been lifted off of your chest.

He is holding you, one arm wrapped across your back and the other rests on your hip. Your head is resting on his chest, listening to his abnormally fast heartbeat but you won't question it-yours is beating fast too.

"Mustard leaf" I forgive you.

You would cry if you did not weep all your tears already. Finally, things are okay. "You're very special to me Toge. I wish I could...indulge on how I feel about you but i just can't. Not right now"

"Shhh" He comforts you, he understands. Maybe you should find a place to live in between school seasons before you worry about him. He kisses the top of your head and the two of you stay that way for a while.

The two of you stay up until morning comes, playing scary Minecraft mods and genuinely laughing together for the first time in weeks.

It feels right.

꒰ ୨୧ ─ ・┈ ・ ─ ・┈ ─ ・┈ ─ ・┈ ꒱꒱

TAGLIST: @toge1numak1 @love-me-satoru @strxwberrycandi @slutlight2ndver @walllflowerrrsss @restrictionsapply @lloversss @biborian21 @geektastic84 @tenthmilo @entr4p3 @reblogwhoreowo @idexmids @uracutieraka @linaaeatsfamilies

LMK IF YOU WOULD LIKE TO BE TAGGED!

[blueblossomrose]

This post is part of the Twisted Parents Series.

Content: Post-canon, fem!afab!mc, fluffy, too much fluffy, twst boys with teenage children. And questionable humor, of course. My trademark.

Notes: So, my country is in summer and here in Brazil summer is naturally hot since it's ahem, tropical country, but this year summer has been ABSOLUTE HELL abnormally hot so I need something to keep from going crazy. Preferably air conditioning on 24 hours, but since I don't have that option, I'm going to turn my frustration into fluffy.

Comments and reblogs are very welcome ♡

Summer Season

The Queendom of Roses had never faced such an intense heat wave. Soon its residents were euphoric, especially certain not-so-eccentric families.

It was frankly absurd. People were already waking up exhausted, walking through the streets like zombies, the heat coming directly from the sun almost like it's melting their brains.

Everything was so hot that it was torture to be outside during the middle of the day.

It got to the point that the air conditioning in Riddle's office simply broke down. He spent the whole day attending to restless children and stressed mothers, amidst sweaty papers and a weak fan that only threw hot air from one side to the other. When he finally got home, sweaty and breathing heavily, his patience was already exhausted.

In this situation, it was absolutely unthinkable to stay home listening to his children complaining about the heat all day. [Name]'s suggestion, said with a carefree smile while fanning her face with a magazine, was that they go to the beach.

Riddle, of course, initially refused. The thought of sand sticking to his skin and the sun that would burn until his whole body was red made him even more exhausted.

But after the insistence of the two of them —his wife and daughter — he had to sigh and give in.

Now, there he was, sitting under a red-and-white striped umbrella, a wide-brimmed hat protecting his fair skin. His blue-gray eyes narrowed as he watched Violete, who was trying to sneak away to the water.

“Where do you think you’re going, young lady?” Riddle asked, his voice firm but not exactly stern.

“Uhhh… swimming?” the girl replied, as if it were obvious.

“I told you about that. Not without putting on sunscreen,” Riddle said flatly, pointing to the bottle in the bag next to him. The girl rolled her eyes and grumbled, but eventually reluctantly went back to her mother to apply sunscreen.

Meanwhile, Alex was sitting quietly under the umbrella next to [Name]. He shared the chair with his mother, who laughed softly at Violete's complaints. Alex seemed oblivious to everything, completely immersed in a game on his old blue Gameboy.

Riddle, from time to time, gave his son critical looks. It's not like he hated Alex's appreciation for video games, but God, did he have to have his face buried in that all day?

Alex had been like this since he was 9, when he got his Gameboy, gift from his mother. Now, at 14, he kept the same device, only changing the case from time to time, as if it were a way to personalize his digital adventure companion.

Violete, at sixteen, It was both what you expected and what you didn't expect from a teenager. Energetic and full of life, with a sarcastic and rebellious streak, her excitement was almost contagious. She had her own hobbies which involved video games with her brother as much as books and cricket. She had already jumped into the water as soon as the sunscreen ritual was over.

The short red strands, which she often curled, were now back to their natural state, flowing straight as they got wet. She was swimming happily, challenging small waves, when she noticed a group of people not far away. Two instructors were helping some tourists climb onto a large board, probably part of those leisure programs offered at the beach – canoeing, stand-up paddleboarding, something like that.

Violete swam closer and watched for a moment, until an idea popped into her head. Turning back to the sand, she raised her voice and called: “Dad!”

Riddle, who was finally starting to relax in his chair, looked up suspiciously. “What now?”

“Let’s get on the board together! It’ll be fun!” she shouted.

“Violete, I’m not getting on that board with you,” he replied immediately, with a seriousness that made Alex let out a small muffled laugh on the other side. [Name], next to him, just raised her eyebrows with a look of “let’s see how long you can resist.”

However, Violete was persistent, and his daughter’s insistent expression – the one she clearly inherited from her mother – eventually won out. A few minutes later, Riddle was in the water, visibly uncomfortable as he was guided to the board by a patient instructor and an overly excited daughter.

"This is a bad idea, Violete," he muttered, already feeling regret setting in as he put on a life jacket. "I'm a doctor, I know exactly how many ways this can go wrong."

"Dad, you need to relax!" Violete replied, smiling as she helped him onto the board, where she was already balanced with impressive ease. "It's going to be fun, trust me!"

But before Riddle could argue, the board swayed dangerously, and he grabbed onto his daughter with a suddenness she hadn't expected. "Violette!" he exclaimed, desperately trying to steady himself.

"Dad, you're pulling me under!" she protested, as she tried to steady them both. Riddle, for his part, was focused on not falling into the water, which seemed increasingly inevitable.

He looked back, seeing [Name] on the sand, waving at them with an amused smile. Alex didn't even look – the sound of the Gameboy buttons continued, indifferent to the family chaos that was happening in the sea.

The minutes when Violette guided the board towards the waves were the moments when Riddle despaired the most, although they managed to at least catch a good wave, even though they were completely unbalanced.

Finally, after a few minutes that seemed like an eternity, the inevitable happened. The board rocked to one side, then the other, and they both fell into the water with a big splash.

When he emerged, wet and irritated, but also, to his surprise, smiling, Riddle heard Violete's crystal-clear laugh.

"See, Dad? It was fun, wasn't it?!" her hands hit the water splashing more water on him.

"Ugh, stop!" even while complaining, Riddle was smiling, sometimes returning the splashes of water on his daughter.

"Huh? Where are dad and Vi?" Alex questioned as he lifted his head, [Name] laughed and pointed, just long enough for Alex to see his dad and sister catch a wave together before falling into the water again. Riddle was almost as desperate as you could imagine while Violete was in front on the board with the biggest smile in the world. A frankly hilarious frame.

The blazing midday sun seemed even more intense that unusual summer in the Queendom of Roses. The oppressive heat made even going out for simple activities like shopping at the Clover bakery a challenge. Still, the frozen treats that Trey made had become a sensation. Artisanal ice cream, fresh fruit pies, and refreshing drinks were flying off the shelves.

One afternoon, sitting at the small oak table in the back of the bakery, Trey rubbed his sweaty forehead as he watched his children play. Tim and Thomas were more interested in hanging out by the fan, while Rose ran around with seemingly inexhaustible energy despite the heat. He glanced over at [Name], who was waving a makeshift paper fan and mumbling something about how hot it's outside. It was then that an idea struck him.

How about take a trip to the falls?

A cool, peaceful place, and the perfect local to cool off.

Rose, being the youngest, immediately jumped up and down with excitement, Tim and Thomas, on the other hand, teenagers already at an age where they'd rather stay home with their phones or their own hobbies, didn't seem so excited. But family trip is mandatory, after all. It was an agreement they made with their parents.

Trey and [Name] arrived at the trailhead with their children, each carrying light backpacks filled with towels, snacks, and bottles of water. Rose bounced excitedly ahead, her small backpack bouncing as she droned on and on about how the waterfalls would be.

Tim, the oldest, trailed slowly, already sweating in the heat, his expression clearly reflecting his displeasure with the hike. “Why couldn’t we just buy ice cream and stay home with the fan on?” he muttered, earning an amused look from Trey.

Thomas, on the other hand, was somewhere in between, half-interested in the hike but clearly dead tired. He walked with his hands in his pockets, backpack and bag on the shoulder.

After a while, the trail opened up to reveal the waterfall. The view was spectacular: crystal clear water cascaded down, creating a refreshing mist that immediately took the edge off the heat. The surrounding vegetation was dense, with bright green leaves and colorful wildflowers that looked even more vivid in the sun.

Rose ran towards the shore, stopping only when Trey called her, asking her to wait while he and [Name] found a good spot for the towel. Tim, sighing, threw himself into the shade of a large rock, lying down like a sack of potatoes. “Wake me up when we leave,” he muttered, eliciting a laugh from [Name].

Thomas, however, took advantage of the distraction. He grabbed a handful of cold water and silently approached Rose. “Hey, Rose, look up!” he shouted, pointing to the top of the waterfall. When his sister looked up, he splashed her with ice-cold water, making her squeal.

“Thomas!” she protested, but she was already splashing him back, starting a water fight that soon involved Trey trying to calm them both down so that they wouldn't fall and hurt themselves on the rocks.

Meanwhile, [Name] was standing next to Tim, offering him a bottle of cool water. "You know you're going to want to get in the water soon," she said.

Tim opened a lazy eye. "Only if someone carries me there."

After a while, Tim gave in to the heat and joined his brothers in the water. Trey and [Name] watched, relaxing on the towel on the floor. Thomas and Rose were now trying to build a "dam" with rocks and branches, while Tim stood nearby, pretending not to care but discreetly helping them find the right branches.

As the time has passed, Trey stood up, adjusting his glasses and getting everyone's attention. "Time for a snack!" he announced, grabbing a small cooler with fruit, sandwiches, and some homemade pastries from the bakery.

Rose was the first to run, still dripping watee, while Thomas and Tim followed her. Like three Gremlins, they sat down and ate despite shivering from the cold from the thermal shock of the ice-cold water on the hot climate.

The end of the afternoon was spent peacefully, with the family resting and enjoying the relaxing sound of the waterfall. When they finally started to pack up their things, Rose complained that she wanted to stay a little longer, but Trey promised that they could return soon, eliciting a smile from her. The walk back was less lively – tiredness had finally taken over the trio, mainly Rose who was the central animation. Trey, with a soft smile, carried her backpack along with his, while [Name] chuckled softly at the funny observations her tired daughter even so made about every detail of the trail.

The hot season brought with it an unexpected relief from Cater’s hectic schedule. The scorching sun made everyone crave a break, and for him, that meant finishing work early and finding something more exciting to do with his family. After all, there was nothing worse than a interview in the sweltering heat, with people feeling sweaty and uncomfortable.

With an excited smile, Cater dragged his wife [Name] and children, Astrid and Rory, to a nature reserve by the sea. The place was perfect for disconnecting from the world. It offered ample space to swim and even snorkel with some of the sea creatures, creating a relaxing atmosphere full of photo opportunities that he loved to capture.

Astrid quickly raised her hand, as if she had asked an important question. “Can I swim with the sharks?” she said with a sparkle in her eyes, her light orange hair lightly blowing in her face as she looked anxiously at her parents.

“Why on earth would you want to swim with sharks?” Rory replied.

[Name] couldn’t help but laugh, trying to lighten the situation. “I’m glad you want to go on an adventure, dear, but I think it would be better to start with something lighter, don’t you think?” she looked at Astrid with a calm smile.

Astrid grimaced, not completely convinced, crossing her arms and looking at her parents as if she were going to continue the argument. But before she could complain any further, a hand appeared underneath her, lifting her off the ground with ease. Cater placed her on his back, with Astrid laughing and squealing with excitement.

"Hey, hey! No arguing, let's just enjoy the moment, how about seeing the manta rays?" Cater suggested. "They like getting close to humans, and they're super harmless. It'll be really cool."

Astrid, with her face already lit up with a wide smile, put the grimace aside, agreeing with her father. She was excited about the idea, even more than with the sharks. Rory, still suspicious, looked at his sister and then at his parents, with a slight sigh. He couldn't deny that their enthusiasm was contagious.

And so the family began their walk to the water sports area, with the sound of waves crashing against the rocks and the summer heat enveloping them all. Cater was happy to be sharing this moment with his wife and children, finally having some time to relax and enjoy life outside the chaos of journalistic work. Over the years, he has learned to appreciate life off-screen more.

To escape the hell that was the city that day, Ace decided that the best solution would be to take his family to a nearby river. Nothing too elaborate, but at least there they could cool off without having to spend a fortune on cold drinks or abuse his magic with cooling spells, which were a luxury that he, as someone from the ministry's accounting department, was not willing to abuse.

For a while, everything went peacefully. [Name] took off her shoes and dipped her feet in the water, relaxing as she watched her children venture further ahead. Lilian had already tied her orange-red hair into a ponytail, while Jasper stood with his arms crossed, evaluating whether it was worth getting in the water or if it would be more fun to tease his sister. Ace, on the other hand, already had his feet submerged and was throwing some water up, enjoying the coolness.

It was then that, out of nowhere, the tranquility was broken.

“So, Dad,” Lilian began, crossing her arms and giving him an inquisitive look, “How many girlfriends did you have before Mom?”

Ace blinked in confusion as he finished stretching in the water. “What? Where did that question come from?”

"You had a girlfriend before mom. And you didn't think to tell us, huh?"

Ace glanced sideways at [Name], who just chuckled, clearly enjoying the situation.

“What have you been telling them?” he asked, arching an eyebrow.

“Me? Nothing!” [Name] replied with an innocent smile. “But your brother loves to tell stories.”

Ace groaned softly. His brother... he should have known.

"Lili, I didn't even know your mother when I broke up with this girlfriend!" he tried to argue to see if his daughter would change the subject.

But Lilian quickly dodged him and kept her accusatory expression. "Even so!" she insisted, now going closer to her mother, as if seeking reinforcement. "Uncle said you were a jerk to mom in the beginning! And what about the other girl?! You were nice to her?!"

Ace ran his hand over his face in disbelief. He had faced powerful adverse situations, being a troublemaker at school… but nothing compared to the fury of a teenage daughter determined to seek justice for her mother.

"Is this an interrogation?" he asked, raising his hands in surrender.

"It depends on your answer," Lilian replied with a frown.

"Look, I wasn't the easiest guy to deal with back then," Ace admitted, scratching the back of his neck. "But I wasn't that bad either, okay?"

"What does that mean?!" Lilian insisted.

Ace sighed. "You know what? I'll ask your uncle what else he's been telling you. I mean, I should be enjoying the water, not defending my reputation from sixteen years ago!"

"Maybe if you hadn't been such a jerk, you wouldn't have to defend yourself now," Jasper scoffed.

"Are you two going to go swimming or keep tormenting me?"

Lilian and Jasper exchanged glances and, without warning, threw water at their father at the same time, this one who gasped offendedly.

"Sweetie, don't be so hard on your father," [Name] intervened, placing her hand gently on Lilian's hair, who was still pouting. "He wasn't perfect, but he learned a lot. And he certainly wasn't the only one who made mistakes." she chuckled, stroking her daughter's hair. "Although he really deserves some of the karma, I'd say."

"Oh, for the love of—!" Ace exclaimed, feigning indignation, while Jasper, on the other side, burst out laughing, clearly enjoying the situation. Ace an his wet hands over his face, as if that could alleviate the embarrassment. "This is absurd! Look here, I wasn't that horrible! What are you three trying to do to me, huh? A public lynching? Lili, I promise you, the only woman I've ever truly loved was your mother. No other woman has ever made me feel like she did, you little brat."

Lilian was still frowning. "Really?" she asked, a little suspicious.

"More than serious," he replied, with that carefree expression he always used when he tried to seem convincing. "And do you know what happens to those who don't believe in their dads?"

Before Lilian could react, Ace grabbed her by the waist, in a quick and agile movement, dragging her straight into the water.

She let out a high-pitched scream, taking everyone by surprise. "DAD!" she shouted, between laughter and protests, as she tried to free herself.

Water splashed around, and Lilian, now soaking wet, laughed loudly as she struggled to escape her father's embrace, but Ace, laughing along, held her tight. "Do you doubt me? Do you really think I don't love your mother?"

"I never said that!" Lilian replied, laughing and trying to balance herself. "But that doesn't justify throwing me in the water!"

Ace chuckled once more, releasing her and raising his hands in surrender. "Fine, fine, little brat. Just don't question my love for you too."

The unbearable heat that had never been seen before in Queendom of Roses was demanding drastic measures from Deuce. He even thought about taking his family to a place like a beach or a river, but when he got home, he found an unexpected scene in the backyard.

The sound of children's laughter and water jets echoed in the hot air. His children and his wife were completely absorbed in the refreshing game with the garden hose. Matthew, in colorful shorts, held the hose tightly, laughing loudly as he shot jets of water in the direction of his mother and brother. Raphael, smaller and more agile, tried to escape by running clumsily, but was hit full on in the chest, making him let out a shrill laugh. [Name] was also soaked, her white blouse now stuck to her body due to the water, and strands of hair stuck to her face as she laughed, trying to shield herself behind her youngest son.

The scene are completely chaotic.

"Hey!" Deuce's voice broke the moment, firm and unexpected. His serious expression made Matthew's eyes widen and lowered the hose, "What are you doing getting your mother and brother wet like that, Matthew?" Deuce asked, crossing his arms.

"Sorry, Dad, we were just-" Matthew started to justify himself, but was interrupted by Deuce snatched the hose from his hands and held it tightly.

A mischievous glint crossed his determined gaze, the same look he used to have in their old delinquent phase. "It has to be this way!" He turned the hose directly on Matthew and Raphael, blasting them with a jet of water strong enough to make them scream and laugh at the same time.

Matthew tried to run away, but Deuce was spot on—he aimed right at the boy’s back, making him squirm in surprise. Raphael, laughing nervously, tried to hide behind his mother, but Deuce quickly changed his target, and soon a cold jet hit [Name] as well. “Deuce!” she shouted, laughing as she raised her arms in a futile attempt to defend herself. “It's not fair!”

“Of course it's fair,” he snapped, amused by the general confusion that ensued. The boys joined in, trying to grab the hose from their father, but Deuce was faster and dodged it easily.

[Name] took advantage of a moment of distraction to run to a forgotten bucket in the corner of the garden. Before Deuce knew it, she had filled it and poured the water straight over his head. The shock of the icy water made Deuce hold his breath for a moment.

"Ah, now you've done it," he murmured, a smile breaking across his face before he charged at them, picking [Nome] up, making her squeal as he picked up the hose from the floor. Raphael and Matthew ran to escape, but Deuce was too fast to them. Within seconds, they were all completely soaked, laughing as if the unbearable heat had been forgotten.

Eventually, the garden became a water war zone, if it wasn't already before.

[katyspersonal]

[lovelikehomicide]

My interpretation was that merging with the reflection actually didn't add anything to the vampires, but erased a part of them--like a tole.

I get that this doesn't fit with how the series presents the reflections as sentient beings, but hear me out:

Mirrors often serve as metaphors for self-awareness and empathy. We tend to be kinder to people we 'see ourselves' in. We 'hold a mirror up to' people when we want them to recognise their own mistakes. Mirrors can be used to represent truth and reality beyond what a character wants to see/what they think is best for themselves.

If we continue with the idea that mirrors represent self-awareness and empathy, losing your reflection would mean giving up those feelings. People who are incapable of feeling empathy (and there are a variety of conditions that cause this--I'm trying not to draw any direct parallels, given I'm talking about a work of fiction) tend to also struggle with guilt and remorse, unless the situation directly harms them. They also generally don't feel shame or embarrassment, as those emotions require you to care what others think of you, which is arguably an empathetic response (again, being very general here).

It's my headcanon, then, that merging with their reflection eliminates a vampire's capacity for emotional empathy. This would be beneficial for the survival of their race, as their primary method of feeding requires hurting/killing other members of their species (vampires are human, after all) in a very intimate way, which would be extremely traumatic for the average person. In addition, the amount of war, death and suffering anyone who lives for centuries would be forced to witness would quickly become unbearable.

We see evidence of this over the course of the show.

Ingrid shows guilt and empathy in season 1, particularly in 'Slaytime TV', where she admits to tricking her father because she doesn't like how upset it made Vlad, and 'countdown', when she saves the Branaughs. There's a lot less of those moments in later seasons. She sacrifices an entire netball team in an attempt to slay her brother, is onboard with executing her father until she finds out he actually loves her, and doesn't seem to feel anything when anyone she's bitten gets dusted. While she seemed to care about the Branaughs prior to her transformation, the implication is that she didn't contact them for the three years following season 2, despite still being in the Stokely Castle.

Boris didn't have much character development beyond being an anxious person and afraid of the transformation. The most apparent change is in his confidence, which could be the result of no longer caring what others think of him. Research has found a strong link between high empathy and anxiety.

Finally, let's look at how Vlad changes after the merge. He's more confident, but that could be put down to him no longer caring if he hurts someone else's feelings. He shows little remorse for dusting people, unless it turns out he was wrong about his reasons (more about his own sense of morality than any actual care for the person), and doesn't hesitate when doing so. In season 5, when he finds out his entire family would be punished if the council learnt about Sally, he genuinely doesn't seem to understand why his father would value their unlives over Vlad's curiosity. He tries to rationalise his selfishness, but he does genuinely seem to struggle to understand his father's very valid concerns.

The sadism we see in Sweet Sixteen and Bad Vlad may be side-effects of bloodlust. In these episodes, both Ingrid and Vlad are coming into their full powers, which are most likely fuelled by blood, so they would be starving. Vlad had already existed for months without feeding his powers, so the added bloodlust that came with increasing them would have been overwhelming. The sadism created by bloodlust would also be a survival mechanism to keep the more moralistic new vampires, like Vlad and Boris, from starving themselves.

I know this doesn't entirely fit with the canon, but I found myself overthinking the concept of the transformation and what it actually does, so this has been knocking around my head for a while.

some part of vlad, even if it was only little has always been a bit evil

ok, so this post is me rambling about vlad and the fact that even though he seems directly opposite to his dad and sister in the way that he doesn't drink blood and wants nothing but peace, a tiny bit of him isn't like that

obviously the best episode we can look to is "bad vlad" when he goes full evil from his reflections possessing him

in my opinion, their reflection isn't a diffrent being entirely. in some capacity,it is part the vampire looking into it. even for the least evil of characters, it focuses in on that tiny shred of darkness in them, and magnifies it. for those already evil, like ingrid or the count, this is fine, because its barely a change. but for Boris and vlad we see that it creates a massive difference. Boris goes crazy with power and vlad almost kills the count,ingrid and erin for a second.

Then, in the episodes following, we see him do stuff he wouldn't have done before and vlad gets to lashout at people (and rightly so 90% of the time) now you could use that as a way to prove that, no a fraction of vlad wasn't evil, he was just dealing with the merging of him and his reflections. but as I said, the reflection is showing who that tiny part of vlad could be.the only thing is,now that little part he kept locked away is getting to come out more through his actions and words and everything.

and then, he bites erin.

while it was in order to save her, he was pretty resigned to doing it until ingrid persuaded him against it.and we know (again from bad vlad) that he tried to bite erin twice. that might just be because he was hungry and she happened to be a breather, but (we're kinda getting into headcannons now) I think that after that or maybe even before, he has wanted to bite her. he mentioned he gets bad cravings sometime at the start of season 3 and erin was the only breather other than renfeild in the house. so there is a possibility of him wanting to bite her before then.

i might be clutching at straws a little with this but I don't care. I do not think that vladnis in no way at all a lille bit on the evil side

[david-watts]

I'd have expected six hours later with some rest some salt and time I'd feel less of an urge to end it all but nope. I don't want to exist anymore

[fucktoyfelix]

Choking Safety

I've been seeing some kind of scare-mongering type posts going around about choking during sex, so I wanted to address how to approach choking in a safe way. Choking is not a 0 risk activity, but it is also not so dangerous that you will just randomly die either. Anyone who does martial arts will confirm that thousands of teenagers are being successfully trained to choke each other safely (for self defense) every day! There's no reason you can't learn to do it too.

First you should be familiar with some basic anatomy of the neck and throat:

The carotid veins on both sides of the neck and the trachea/windpipe in the center are the most important things to be aware of. If you want to enjoy the psychological element of having someone's hands around your neck with relatively little risk, you can do "choking" play that avoids putting any pressure on those arteries or the trachea. As with all choking play, safety is highest when both parties are fully sober. I'm not actually sure if there are people out there who are into having the windpipe or trachea blocked. This tends to hurt like fuck and cause an autonomic choking response. You'll know if you went too far center because generally the bottom will be like "WTH". I don't know if there is a way to do this play safely or not as I don't have experience with it. It probably carries some risk of the trachea collapsing which would be a hospital trip for sure. Most choking play is done with the intention of cutting off the blood supply to the brain by applying pressure to both the left and right carotid arteries. This type of choking is not really "breath play" because of the way it works (though many people refer to it that way.) This creates a pleasant light headed feeling, but is also where the higher risk comes in. It often doesn't take long for a person to lose consciousness once these arteries are blocked, often less than 10 seconds. Sometimes getting completely choked out is the goal, sometimes not. Either way, the top has to pay very very careful attention to every aspect of their bottom's body language. Once you realize that a person has lost consciousness, the choking must stop immediately. Because of this: the most dangerous way to do this kind of play is alone. (hence all the auto-erotic asphyxiation deaths you hear about) It goes without saying that intoxication also dramatically increases the risks. It's not recommended to lose consciousness this way on a regular basis. It's just not good for your brain to repeatedly go through, especially in rapid succession. Generally, the more time spaced out between this type of play: the better. Though some people may have medical conditions that make the risk higher, as long as you stop choking when you reach the desired headspace, this play is approachable. Anyone who's REALLY into the idea but feels unsure or scared, I highly recommend taking a few martial arts classes. MMA guys do this to each other all the time! For sports! The key is just stopping at the right time. There are two main ways to go about blocking the carotid arteries. The main one used in martial arts and self defense is the rear naked choke.

This type of choke is incredible effective at choking someone out quickly and easily. The forearm and the bicep are squeezing each artery until the desired effect is achieved. The risk here is how quickly it works in combination with not being able to have a visual on your bottom's facial response. When someone loses consciousness they will go limp and begin twitching somewhat. This is normal, and you should stop immediately if you notice those signs. The more common method of choking play during sex is what looks more like typical choking. Facing your partner, using both hands.

You want to find the arteries with both hands, and use the meat at the base of your thumbs to apply gradually increasing pressure upwards towards your partner's head. You can keep the thumbs tucked to avoid accidental pressure on the windpipe. (Though this is not required so long as you remember not to apply pressure to the windpipe.) This type of play has a few safety benefits. First, you can see your partner's face so it's more obvious when you can see they've hit a headspace that is desirable. Additionally, it's just a little more difficult to find the arteries and push up on them correctly. If your goal is to get a little light headed without losing consciousness, this is more easily accomplished with this type of choke. However, losing consciousness is still a risk and both partners being fully alert will ensure the lowest risk environment. I know choking play is incredibly popular, even 'vanilla' people participate in this type of play on a regular basis without really knowing the technical details. Most of them don't get seriously hurt...but knowing what you're actually doing with risky play is a base component of risk aware consensual kink. Anyway I hope people find this helpful! Happy choking!!

[irisintheafterglow]

itoshi rin doesn't get injuries. ever.

he's downright religious about stretching, warming up properly, and being aware of how his body is holding up under the intense conditions of a match. he keeps a strict diet, an even stricter sleeping schedule, and pops enough vitamins and supplements to make his immune system work at 200%. but, when stupidly lukewarm isagi misplaces his stupidly lukewarm foot, rin ends up rolling his ankle harder than a bowling ball slammed down a lane. he doesn't react immediately to the lightning bolt of pain that shoots up his calf, only sending isagi a withering glare and continuing to rush the opposition's net.

like the rest of his team, you don't notice something is wrong until the end of the scrimmage, when rin collapses and curls his upper body around his ankle. his hands clutch the bottom of his leg and he shuts his eyes tight to hold in the frustrated groan he wants to release. the other players approach him and he snarls like a circus tiger, barking at them to leave him be. the same tune is played for the medical team, having no choice but to retreat after he insists he just needs a second to rest. with a deep inhale to prepare, you steel your nerves and walk over to where he sits.

"i said go," he seethes, his forehead resting against his propped knee. his eyes are shut, but he can feel someone standing there, watching him with a pitying look in their eyes. stupid. he gets hurt and suddenly it's poor, poor rin and his poor, poor ankle. it's weakness that he needs to stomp out, weakness that--

"you need to ice that." his eyes open slowly and you catch his walls recede ever so slightly. you always had a no-nonsense kind of relationship with rin, especially as a health analyst-in-training who was the only brave soul that spoke to him among your cohort. there was an unspoken level of respect that you had for him that you assumed he reciprocated, seeing as he always had patience for your long spiels outlining everything to do with his physical wellbeing. he appreciated that you never asked about his mental wellbeing, but sometimes your gut told you that maybe you should.

"i'm fine," he says through gritted teeth and you resist the urge to roll your eyes at his melodrama. you bite back your initial retort and instead settle on the turf next to him, your legs facing the opposite way so that you're not making direct eye contact. he watches you from the outskirts of his vision, as do the rest of the remaining team on the field, but doesn't deny your company. you let him take a few more breaths before asking your next question.

"what hurts?" any other trainee in your group would immediately be subject to scathing insults about their personality and emotional aptitude. you'd seen it, how he snapped at the trainees that weren't you.

"calf. ankle. inside of my foot," he mumbles, shame evident in his voice. he didn't like appearing weak; he already felt weak living in the shadow of sae. it was something he was constantly fighting against, carrying the sack of weight on his shoulder every game. he waits for you to scoff, to tell him to get over it, but you don't. instead, you hum and refrain from looking at him directly. in a way, it's the indirect conversation that he appreciates the most.

"i'm gonna get you a tennis ball for your ankle. where's your water?"

"back left by the bench." you nod and retrieve both items, returning to him in no time at all. you don't even stop to converse with the other concerned members of the management team, making a beeline back to him like you had no other place to be. "you should go," he says before you sit down again.

you wait for him to elaborate. he doesn't.

"do you want me to?"

he hesitates.

"...no."

"then i'll stay." you sit closer this time, still facing the other direction, but close enough that your arms could brush if he leaned close enough. rin won't admit that he likes the proximity. "i don't need to tell you how to use a tennis ball," you comment and his silence expresses his gratitude. he reaches wordlessly for the ball but you hold it just out of reach. "but, i am gonna force you to drink water before you do anything else."

"i'm not thirsty."

"i don't care," you reply. "you won't get better if you're not hydrated." part of him hates that you're right, that you're sitting here pitying him. but, he takes the bottle from your hand anyway and downs a few sips that turn into large gulps. he didn't realize how parched he'd become. "there. what else can i do?"

"stop pitying me," he scowls without thinking. as much as you like to think he's different when he's with you, there's still times like these when the rage slips out and he snaps. you haven't known him long enough to weather his storms, but you're determined to wait it out and you know he notices. he's too smart not to notice the way your shoulders sag, the way you conveniently look anywhere but in his direction, the way you're fighting every instinct to abandon him to protect yourself. "it's," he forces out, surprising you both, "it's not-i'm not your responsibility. i don't need you to take care of me."

"but do you want me to?"

he hesitates again and turns to look at you completely, detecting no sense of pity or malice or arrogance in your expression. you were there to help him, and you wanted him to trust you. what a foreign feeling.

"yes."

so you continue to sit there with him in silence, running your fingers absentmindedly over the turf as he gently massages his ankle with the tennis ball. you don't question when his shoulder brushes yours for a second, then returns to completely lean against you. when he decides it's time to wash up, he takes your hand and lets you help him off the field, his arm draped around your upper back as you act as his crutch. you later tell him after he's showered that you didn't help him because you pitied him, but because you knew he would be too stubborn to ask for help.

"how are you so sure?"

"because you told me to leave, remember? and who would have helped you if i left? who would you allow to help you?" you don't wait for him to answer and bid him a polite goodbye, leaving his face warm and completely at a loss for words.

he decides that it's not so bad if he gets injured, as long as you're the one sitting on the turf with him after the game.

[asymphonicity]

Lan Zhan also makes me really sad.

Luo Binghe was clinging to the hope of reviving Shen Qingqiu. While Hua Cheng knew his deity was immortal and that it was more a matter of when, where and in what condition.

But he just kinda mourned for years and years, never moving on from a person that at least at the time had pretty much died with no will to come back and was chilling in the underworld. Just, regular death. I feel like the fact that is a more realistic situation just makes it sadder.

Like, you love this person, you don't know their feelings or thoughts, and then one day you just learn they died, not even a goodbye. Plus to that emptiness you add the whole, he was a heretic thing, so his family didn't even mourn him or erect a tombstone.

And then there is this child, this person left behind and you just take it because, "who else is gonna?". And then you just decide that for the rest of your years, you are gonna spend them in mourning, never moving on from the tragedy, and thinking of what could have been. Not even thinking of looking for love again.

On a side note, as a theory, does anyone think that the reason why his sects and his clothes are white, and are specifically referred to as funeral clothes, is because they all spend all of their time in mourning?

In conclusion, he is equally as strange as the other two. He just expresses himself through silence amd sadness instead. Plus the tragic realism of it all keeps his priorities more straight since unlike Hua Cheng and Luo Binghe he does have responsibilities that he can't abandon or toss onto someone else's lap. *cough* Hua Cheng and Luo Binghe are hopeless romantics while Lan Zhan is a widower with a child.

It's actually funny to me that of the three, LZ is the most normal about his husband. Like, it makes sense because HC's whole reason he's still alive is XL, that's his unfinished business and LBH is certified freak who kept SQQ's corpse for five years. But something about it is just strange because to call LZ normal is a stretch, like he was completely devoted to WWX is a way that's borderline obsessive sometimes, fought 33 of his own family members to protect him, and gave himself the same scar as WWX in a moment of weakness. But then you compare it to feeding your beloved your own blood to be able to track him or dying for him over and over and over again and always coming back stronger for him, it really doesn't compare.

it's just weird to think about. To be fair to him, though, he is the only completely human love interest, so he just doesn't have to range ig.

[catboyieejeno]

mark lee + domestic

♫ play love it by dean...

waking up on a late morning besides mark who, in his sleep, is subconsciously pressing his soft, pouted lips against your neck or shoulder, nose nuzzling into your warmed skin. he still hasn't woken up, which you realize when those same pouty lips part to let out a series of long and calm exhales. he rolls a little closer to you until minutes later, he eventually blinks his puffy eyelids open, smacking his mouth a few times like a baby does when first stirring awake.

it's too soon to wish you a good morning—he doesn't truly trust his voice to not betray him yet; instead, when your eyes meet for the first time today, the corner of his lips instinctively curve up into a dazed smile, and the hand that rests on your hip gives your flesh a little squeeze in a silent but sweet greeting.

cooking any meal consists of you moving around the kitchen as you gather and assemble your ingredients. meanwhile, mark follows you around, curiously and eagerly. he resembles a puppy trailing behind you. also has a habit of resting his chin on your head or shoulder to watch what you're doing; that, or he's leaning against the nearest structure whenever you linger for too long in a specific area. you're by the sink? he's bent over, resting his weight on his elbows to talk to you. you're at the stove? his hip is pressed into the counter and his arms are crossed, watching intently how you prepare the food.

after, he'll gladly do the dishes (since he isn't much help with the cooking part). the sole condition he insists on is that you have to sit on the countertop beside him and keep him company 'til he's done. he also gets to steal a kiss whenever he pleases, molding his lips over yours for a few seconds too long. he laughs when you scold him for getting distracted or wasting water, then mumbles his apology into your mouth, "m'sorry, baby! s'just hard to focus when you're here, sitting pretty for me,"

chores are usually left for the weekend, where the two of you take turns picking songs and adding them to a never-ending queue to get through the tasks at hand. the two of you are rather good at getting things done quickly, but the moment you plant a kiss on mark's cheek as you pass by, consider your work done for the day, regardless of whether you've finished or not.

you don't make it farther than a foot away before mark has dropped the rag he's holding in order to grab ahold of your waist. he dips his head down and kisses your lips so messily, longingly even, since the last kiss you gave him was not sufficient by any means. then again, he can never really get enough of you. mere moments later, you're pressed up against the wall with each of his hands at your hip bones, the tasks at hand long forgotten as his tongue eagerly explores your mouth.

its easy to get distracted with him, by him. grocery runs tend to be at least an hour longer than they really need to, because despite the fact that you've made a list of 5 simple items, the two of you navigate every aisle anyway and leave with a dozen other things. browsing for shows or movies turns into a conversation about actors and directors and soundtracks, and you never actually get around to picking something. if you do, the content is left unattended by you and mark, who giggle and mutter out jokes between the dialogue to get a smile out of the other, blazing touches left behind on warm skin.

you're undoubtedly his favorite person in the entire world—the one he looks forward to seeing at the start and end of each day, and the one he always tells good news to first. bad news, too. crashes through the front door and drops everything to bid you a warm hello as he rambles on about his day, or comes in and curls up next to you on the couch and expresses his recent frustrations. regardless of whether you give advice or just listen, your presence is soothing enough.

[ohnoitstbskyen]

I deleted the ask, but someone wrote one basically saying "why do you post reaction videos to Helluva Boss? Don't you know the show exploits its workers and they're overworked and get burned out?"

And, I mean, I love your energy, person who asked, definitely hold on to those values and speak up about this. But also, I am afraid I might have some bad news for you about literally the whole entire animation industry.

As near as I can make out from the sparse journalistic reporting that's been done on SpindleHorse -- and as a sidebar, please for the love of god read actual reporting about these things and not just callout posts and fandom discourse -- as near as I can make out, SpindleHorse as a studio is neither all that much better nor all that much worse than basically anywhere else in the industry on their level. It seems like it is (or was? Hazbin Hotel seems to be run differently) a studio mostly run by contracting people on a project-by-project basis, which leads to a crapton of turnover, and a huge need for organizing and onboarding, which according to the reporting I have read, the producers and freelancers have struggled to balance and manage properly, which has negatively impacted a number of the workers.

Top that with the usual catty, clique-based backbiting, sniping and poorly managed conflict resolution that's just kinda endemic in creative environments mostly staffed by twentysomethings and stressed out freelancers, and you have the recipe for a workplace where a lot of people are going to have a great time and feel creatively fulfilled, and a lot of people are going to come away feeling justifiably burnt the fuck out and exploited.

All of this is... not especially unusual for the animation industry, or indeed for any creative industry. Which is not to say that it is good, or that it should be allowed to be normal, or that it shouldn't be reported on and criticized (and please for the love of god support unionization efforts because that's the only thing that will actually address these kinds of systemic problems). It's just to say that if those kinds of issues are the line in the sand you draw where you refuse to engage with a studio's output...

Then, for starters, say goodbye to basically all of anime, because the Japanese animation industry is actively in a state of crisis trying to recruit new talent because its working conditions and pay are so astonishingly abysmal. And the horror stories that escape from that industry make the issues at SpindleHorse look like summer camp at times.

But you also have to say goodbye to a lot of American and European animation. Please do not imagine that Disney and its subcontractors, or that Nickelodeon or Warner Bros, are benevolent employers. They exploit their staff brutally and are currently trying to crush the labor value of animation with threats of generative AI being used to replace jobs. But those corporations also have extremely well-funded PR departments and the ability to silence employees with NDAs and threats of blackballing, so you don't get to hear as many of the horror stories as you might from a smaller independent studio that's less able to silence criticism by holding people's careers hostage.

All of this is to say that 1) it's valid and important to have criticism of both large and small-scale animation studios, and to keep the well-being and happiness of the workers higher in your priorities than the output of Products™.

And 2) if you're going to have a principle for what kinds of problems make a studio's output morally untouchable for you, and what kinds of problems you think should make a studio's output untouchable to other people, you do need to apply that principle consistently to the entire industry, and not just to the independent animation studio that happens to be surrounded by the internet's most inflammatory fandom discourse.

If you don't apply that principle consistently, maybe don't send reproachful messages to strangers scolding them for not living up to your standards, and even if you do apply that principle consistently, maybe still don't do that, because it's mostly quite annoying, and doesn't really do anything to support animation workers struggling for better working conditions.

The Animation Guild in the US is currently in the middle of a bargaining process with their industry, and they have a social media press kit as well as relevant talking points on their website which you can use to post in solidarity with the workers. If it comes to a full industry strike, consider donating to their strike funds to help them maintain pressure. Outside of the US, try and find out what (if any) local unions exist for animation workers, and maybe sign up to their mailing lists. They will let you know what kind of support they need from you.

[tetsumie]

𝐈 𝐖𝐀𝐍𝐓 𝐀𝐋𝐋 𝐎𝐅 𝐘𝐎𝐔

pairing: kuroo tetsuro x fem!reader

genre: comfort

content: kuroo hasn't seen you in days and makes his way to your apartment to see what's going on with you

cw: reader has a depressive episode and displays depressive symptoms

a/n: hello! i tried writing something for my pookie wookie kuroo tetsuro also lwk very self indulgent.. love u all and tysm for the endless support and as always likes, reblogs, and comments are always appreciated! i could not be here without you all <333

"hi! this is y/n l/n! sorry i couldn’t answer your phone call. i’m a bit busy right now but leave a message and i’ll call you back the first chance i get than-" kuroo hangs up the phone for nth time today and sighs. 

kuroo hasn't heard from you for the past few days and to be completely honest, it’s like you've completely vanished off the planet. your designated seat next to him in both chemistry and english lectures have remained empty for the past week and he can’t seem to get ahold of you at all. 

at first, he didn’t really worry much about it. he didn’t want to pry on why you weren’t coming to school. he understood everyone needed their space. but when he intercepted your friends one day and asked them how you were doing and they too were unsure as well, he knew there was something severely wrong. 

on the other hand, you’ve been home all week. 

you haven’t been in the best place for the past week. you feel like your body is slowly succumbing to the stress and your body is practically giving out on you, working overtime. motivating yourself to study and to work is already difficult enough as is but doing basic things such as getting out of bed and even taking a shower feels impossible. 

you feel stuck in this never ending loop of time where the same things just keep happening over and over. you wake up at the prime hour of 12 pm and realize you’ve missed all your morning classes but then immediately head back to bed. you fall asleep and then wake up at 2 pm and stare at the ceiling above you with no particular thought in mind. eventually, you find yourself scrolling through social media on your phone but then ditch it after a few minutes because a wave of social anxiety crashes into you. 

it doesn’t help that you’ve also been skipping meals and you’re starting to catch a cold. man, you haven’t even gotten out of bed, let alone left your bedroom. you can’t even get yourself to do the bare minimum right now and making yourself an actual meal is a bit too out of your comfort zone. 

and what makes this entire situation worse is the fact that you’ve been pushing everyone away, from your friends to family to the one and only kuroo tetsuro.

there was no justification behind why you were avoiding them. you just couldn’t allow yourself to let them see you in such a lethargic condition. it hurt your pride and in general, you hated having people worry for you. it made you feel, in a sense, hopeless. 

you just wanted to shut yourself off from the world. 

the week goes by in a flash and friday evening rolls around. your phone lights up again for the nth time. you see it flash white but you roll over away, not having the energy to grab it. doing anything especially talking to other people feels exhausting.

a few minutes later, someone's banging on the door. it sounded like the fbi was at your door with a search warrant as if you were harboring drugs. you don't answer the door, not feeling like leaving the comfort and safe haven of your bed.

but the banging doesn’t seem to stop and you're getting irritated so you’re forced to get out of bed and tell the person at the door to come at another time.

to your surprise, when you open the door, you find your boyfriend, kuroo, staring at you with wide eyes and furrowed eyebrows.

“y/n, where have you been?” he begins the interrogation.

you mumble. “nowhere. been at home.”

he looks you up and down, taking in your disheveled state. your face is pale, the bags under your eyes seep deeply, giving away the countless sleepless nights you've had. your shoulders are slumped and the corners of your mouth turn down slightly, a subtle but constant frown. your hair is unkempt, reflecting the lack of energy to even try to care for yourself. an aura of exhaustion and hopelessness hangs around you, making it clear that you're struggling to find the strength to even function.

“then why haven’t you answered my calls?” he continues.

“i’ve just been preoccupied,” you lie and he catches on immediately.

no words are exchanged between the both of you for a few moments. you take his silence as your cue to end this awkward conversation and to send him on his way.

"i'm sure you have better things to do, just go-"

you're about to close the door on him until he says, "let me in."

you sigh again.

“can you come back later tetsu?” you don’t want to have him deal with you like this. he's seen more than enough of you in this condition.

his piercing gaze locks with your tired eyes and he feels his heart clench. the usual shimmer in your eyes gone and all he can see the numbness in your expression.

"no let me in," he states in a strict tone. "we have to talk."

with no choice, you open up the door entirely and kuroo takes a look at the state of your apartment. he would be lying if he wasn't caught by surprise. clothes are strewn across the couch and bowls of empty ramen are lying on the kitchen counter. your apartment is a mess.

putting his stuff down near the door, he begins to slowly pick up your clothes off the floor and tosses them into the laundry bin. seeing him make an attempt at cleaning your mess made you uncomfortable to the point your skin started to crawl.

"tetsuro, stop."

"no."

"please stop," you plead in desperation.

"y/n, i’m trying to help you!" he replies, his voice growing a little louder with irritation at your refusal.

“what if i don’t want your help?” you shoot back and his mouth closes shut. “i don’t want your help or your pity or condolences or whatever it is! just go home!”

although your mouth said one thing, your mind was trying to telepathically convey another.

please don’t leave me now. please stay.

you don’t say a word as you walk into your bedroom, closing the door behind you, hoping he'll leave on his own. the moment he hears the click of your bedroom door, kuroo begins to try to organize as much as he can in your living room. he takes out your old leftover foods and tidies up the kitchen. he starts working his way through the living room, silently sweeping the dust off the floor and reorganizing your items that were strewn on the floor.

as he’s silently working, he begins to hear sniffles and sobs coming from your room. dropping everything, he finds himself standing in front of your closed door, fist about to knock the door.

“love, can we talk?” he says out loud.

it's silence from the other end.

"y/n... please..." kuroo's voice cracks. "i just want to see you."

"door's open," your voice is muffled slightly through the door.

he opens the door and is greeted by you wrapped around in your comforter, looking away from the door. kuroo takes in the state of your room. the curtains are drawn out and there are tissues littering your night stand along with your computer lying in the corner with a pile of clothes in the corner waiting to be cleaned.

you were always so organized, what started this?

kuroo goes over to the other side of the bed and your face is huddled into your comforter. he crouches down and starts to stroke your hair with his hand.

"baby? talk to me, love. what's going on in that pretty head of yours huh?" he coos in hopes of getting you to open up.

refusing to look him in the eye, you mumble into your comforter loud enough for him to understand. "it's been getting bad again... it’s been bad all week and i'm just tired all the time."

he kisses the top of your head. "and that's okay. not everyday is supposed to be a great day. you're supposed to have good days and bad days."

you finally emerge from your cocoon and the sight he's greeted with break his heart into pieces. your face has a slight red flush tint with the remnants of your tear stains on your face. he sees how you're trying to maintain a steady face, trying your best not to fall apart in front of him.

no questions asked, he brings you into his chest and the tears you worked so hard to keep at bay come apart. you start sobbing into his chest. he strokes your back in a rhythmic up and down motion, adding the occasional kiss on the top of your head. he finds himself crawling into your bed with you on his lap as you continue to sob into his chest.

once your crying subsides a bit and your throat feels a bit sore from the crying, you look up at him and he gives that genuine small smile of his that you've grown to love so much.

"i love you, you know that right?" he reassures as your eyes meet.

your eyes shift from one eye to another and you look at him as if he hung the stars just for you.

"i know and i don't know why you love me. i don't deserve you. you deserve someone who's put together and on top of it and just perfect. hell, you could do so much better than me... i don't even know why you're still with me."

his heart cracks at the heartbreaking words, escaping your mouth. he feels so stupid. have you been feeling like this for all this time and haven't said a word to him? he should've done something.

"when we started dating, from that very moment, i knew i wanted all of you. i want everything. i want your bad days and your good days and your lazy days and your rotting in bed days. i want your good and bad. i want your highs and lows. y/n, i just want you." he kisses your cheek.

he continues to reassure you, "i want all of it. and i want to be there for you the entire time. i don't want you to have to hide yourself from me. i never wanted you to be perfect. i wanted you to be just you. that's who i fell in love with."

"i love you with all your 'imperfections' you know that right?" he does the air quotes around the word "imperfections."

"yeah but it's so hard for me to accept-," you start but he brings his pointer finger to your lips, telling you to stop your train of overthinking.

you both are enveloped in a comfortable silence with kuroo's reassuring words hanging in the air.

"i love you so much, you have no idea," you finally say, cuddled into his chest.

"oh yeah? i couldn't tell," he begins to tease. "tell me more actually."

you let out a chuckle, playfully slapping his arm, and that warm, sweet smile of his forms again on hisi lips.

"there's my gorgeous girl. oh how i've missed you."

"missed you too, tetsu."

© tetsumie 2024 all rights reserved

[thebestsetter]

He has never been afraid of dying.

Death doesn't fright him. He sees it as a natural part of the cycle of life. One must be born, live their life, possibly reproduce so their species can keep on existing and then die. All animals, be it a big magnificient whale or a little insignificant ant, have to do this too. This is what they all have in common (and honestly, it's beautiful how all animals have to experience this. It brings humans and animals closer).

Everyone dies, be it the sinner or the saint, the rich or the poor. Death doesn't discriminate people. It just comes and takes everyone (which is kinda funny, since people think that money or looks make them different from the other. They don't. We're all equal. The bullet that kills the powerful is also capable of killing the weak). And frankly, he's okay with that. He knows it'll happen.

Given his work condition, he knows he's more inclined to die than the average person. Everyday, he has to go out there and risk his life, saving hundreds of people he doesn't even know and sometimes not even getting a "thank you" back. It's frustrating, but it's not like he's giving up. Before he dies, he wants to make this world a little bit better. It probably won't be much, but he still wants to feel useful. He wants to feel like he did something good.

"Oh God! You're okay! You're really okay! I was so worried about you!"

He doesn't fear death. Which is why he doesn't understand why he feels like crying when you visit him at the hospital he was staying at after a mission that went wrong. Death doesn't scare him, so he's not quite sure why his hands tremble when they reach to pat your head. He shouldn't react like this. He's never reacted this way before

"Please, don't ever do that again! Never ever!" Your grip in his waist tightens to the point where his lungs are burning for air, but he still doesn't want you to let go.

"You have no idea how scared I was. When the hospital called me saying you were here, I felt like my mind was going a hundred per hour! Please, don't die..."

How can you ask him this? You both know it's impossible. He's going to die one day, it can't be helped. You can't escape death's claws. No one can escape their funeral. You're torturing him. You know he doesn't like to lie to you. He can't just say "I won't die" cause it's simply not true!

"Please don't die" you repeat, and his hands movement comes to a halt "Because I'll be lonely if you die. Don't leave me alone, please."

And suddenly, it all makes sense.

He still isn't afraid of dying. But suddenly, the mention of death leaves an itching feeling at the back of his throat. It makes him sick thinking about you going on with your life, possibly mourning over his death for a long time (he doesn't ever want you to be sad, especially not because of him. Strangely, a sick, twisted part of him wants you to cry when he dies. To be sad. To not move on fastly. He quickly supresses those thoughts though) and then completely forgetting him and starting a new family (this thought makes him sick to the stomach. He feels like a very bad guy when thinking about how he doesn't want you to find another man to replace him. You always said he was irreplaceable after all).

He will forever be someone who was, not someone who is. He'll be lost in time, a name you'll mention once or twice on a conversation while smiling and thinking about the good times you had together.

He'll never hear your laugh and your voice again, will never take you out on extravagant dates and have movie nights watching silly movies and laughing at the special effects. Leaving you alone in this dangerous world feels almost criminal.

Death doesn't make him feel bad. Having you forget him after he dies makes him feel like absolute shit.

And so, even though he can't promise you that he won't die, he can promise one thing. He grabs one of your hands in his, looking at you as serious as he can be.

"You won't ever be alone." He says, and you feel like crying. He then smiles weakly "I promise. I love you. Our love is too strong to be stopped by death." He kisses your hand and then quotes the same sentence he uttered at your wedding day "Remember? 'And if death do us apart, I promise to find you in every other timeline.'"

And just like he did that day, he props up in the hospital bed and kisses you.

MEGUMI FUSHIGURO, ITADORI YUJI, Gojo Satoru, Inumaki Toge (or maybe I'm just a glazer ☹️), Nanami Kento (idk, I just feel like it fits him), TODOROKI SHOTO, Bakugou Katsuki, Kirishima Ejirou, Izuku Midoriya, Aizawa Shota, HAWKS + any character you think fits this!!

~ A/N: this can be read as a sequel of another fic of mine. It also can be read on it's own though (but please, do check the other one if you're interested!!). Also, you can see some Hamilton songs' references here and there (cause I'm a theater kid 😔) AND this was inspired by a line in "Cowboy Beebop"

Masterlist

[joelmillerisapunk]

unbelievable

mechanic!Joel x f!reader

masterlist

wordcount: 4,489

summary: the 'It's not just your car that needs fixing, is it?' Trope

warnings: 18+, unprotected p in v, lots of fingering, there's a joint, lots of 'sweetheart', some aftercare but like a bit different (I don't wanna spoil it) mentions of anxiety (bc I'm an anxious bltch and this would happen to me) fluffy smut?

notes: hiii 🥰 I hope you like mechanicJoel because I fell in love with him so fast, he has no right being so hot 🙃 The title is unbelievable by diamond rio, it felt pretty accurate to my inner Joel dialogue. a big thank you to @saradika-graphics & @firefly-graphics for the dividers (graphic designers deserve the world honestly)

You've always had a thing for rugged men, and Joel Miller is the epitome of a handsome, rough-around-the-edges mechanic. His strong hands, grease-stained clothes, and confident demeanor make your heart race every time you see him, which has been a lot recently since your old car has been having its fair share of problems.

It's a hot summer day, and you decide to visit the garage where Joel works, hoping to catch a glimpse of him. As you walk in, the smell of oil and gasoline fills your nostrils, making you feel a little lightheaded. But then, you see him. He's hunched over a car engine, his muscular arms covered in sweat and grime. Your heart skips a beat as you take in the sight of him.

You approach Joel, trying to act cool and collected, even though your insides are turning to jelly. "Hey, Joel," you say, trying to keep your voice steady. "I was wondering if you could help me with my car again. It's been making a weird noise, and I don't know what to do."

Joel looks up at you, his beautiful brown eyes meeting yours. He wipes his forehead with the back of his hand, leaving a streak of grease on his face. "Sure thing, sweetheart," he says with an almost knowing grin. You've been coming to see him every couple of weeks for the past few months. "Let me take a look for you, darlin."

As Joel inspects your car, you can't help but steal glances at his muscular physique. You imagine what it would be like to run your hands over his firm chest and his stomach, to feel his stubble scratch against your skin as he kisses you. The thought makes you wet, and you squirm, trying to hide your arousal.

But Joel notices. He looks up at you, his gaze intense and seductive. "You seem a little flustered, sweetheart," he says, his voice low and husky. "Is there something on your mind?"

You swallow hard, trying to gather your nerves. The heat in the garage is making you feel more and more flustered, and the idea of Joel noticing your arousal only adds to your embarrassment. "Uh, yeah, I guess so," you manage to reply.

Joel's eyes rake over your body, taking in the way your shirt clings to your body and the way your nipples are hardening under the hot conditions. "I can tell you've been coming to see me for a while now. It's not just your car that needs fixing, is it?"

Your heart is pounding in your chest, and you can feel the heat rising to your face. "I-I don't know what you're talking about," you stammer, trying to deny the truth even to yourself.

But Joel isn't backing down. He steps closer to you, his body towering over yours. "I can help you with your car, sweetheart," he says, his voice a low growl. "But if you're looking for something else, something a little more personal, I can do that too."

Your mind is racing as you try to figure out what to do. On one hand, you've always had a thing for rough-and-tumble men like Joel, and the idea of being with him is almost too much to bear. On the other hand, you're not sure if you're ready for something like that with someone you're not even dating. As you stand there, frozen in indecision, Joel reaches out and gently takes your hand in his. "It's okay, darlin," he says, his voice soft and reassuring. "You don't have to decide right now. But if you change your mind, you know where to find me."

Joel continues working on your car, he takes his time, making sure to do everything a little slower. He runs his hand over the engine, and with every turn of the wrench and every adjustment of parts, you can't help but feel your heart race, your skin tingle, and your body heat up. He's wearing a pair of tight jeans that hug his thighs, and every time he bends over the car, you catch a glimpse of the outline of his bulge. You wonder what it would feel like to touch him there, to feel him hard and ready against your skin. Your mind races with fantasies of him taking you, claiming you, making you his in ways that go far beyond the mechanical fixings of a car.

Joel takes a bit of a break from your car, and you think he's about to tell you what was wrong with it. "You know, sweetheart, I could fix more than just your car," he repeats himself again, " I could fix all your problems, make you feel good in ways you've never felt before."

You swallow hard, trying to find your voice. "What do you mean?"

Joel grins, a knowing look in his eyes. "I mean, I could show you the kind of fixings that only a man like me can provide," he says, his voice low and seductive. "Make you mine, take you right here. I promise you, it's something you'd never forget.”

“Oh, uh I, uhm I need to -” You pause, looking at your phone, “I have a thing soon. So I should uh go when you're done.” You can barely keep yourself together as you fumble through your sentence.

Joel smirks, "Of course, sweetheart," he says, his voice reassuring. "When you're ready, I'll be here.”

As you exit the garage, you feel a mix of excitement and anxiety coursing through your veins. Joel's words have left you feeling both turned on and terrified at the same time.

You spend the next few hours trying to shake off the encounter, but your mind keeps wandering back to Joel's words and the way his body made you feel. You can't stop thinking about the way his muscles bulged under his tight jeans, or the way his hair curled, his strong jawline, or the way those lips would part everytime he would focus on your car. You want to touch him, taste him, feel him- anything. And you're desperate to hear him speak that sexy accent of his once again.

When you finally arrive home, you let yourself into your apartment and immediately head straight for your bedroom. You shed your clothes as fast as possible, trying to rid your entire day from your skin. After your shower, you pull on a pair of shorts, your favorite oversized t shirt before padding barefoot across the carpeted floor of your room.

Just as you're opening your bedroom door to get a snack, your phone rings. You glance at your screen - a number with no name showing up - before answering the call, your heart pounding in anticipation. “Hello?”

You can hear a woman's voice in the background, "I told you not to come in my office. You can't just call random clients." Then you hear a muffled males voice and the woman again. "Yes... I understand she hasnt paid, but we don't contact clients until the end of the month."

You sit there unsure of what to do, should you say something? Should you hang up? Should you ignore her? Suddenly, you hear yelling. "Out - now!" she exclaims before apologizing for the misunderstanding and hanging up the phone on you. As you hang up the phone, you can't help but feel a sense of confusion and disappointment wash over you. You had been hoping that it was Joel on the other end of the line and that he was calling to follow up on his earlier proposition. But instead, it seems like you were caught in the middle of a heated exchange between a man and a woman, and you can't help but wonder what it all means.

You shake your head, trying to clear your thoughts. You know that you can't let yourself get too caught up in the idea of Joel. You need to focus on yourself and your own needs rather than getting swept up in the allure of a man you barely know. You've got plenty of people who love you, and it's better to prioritize your relationships than get carried away with a man like Joel. You know you wouldn't be able to handle it.

But then suddenly here you are. You take a deep breath and steel yourself as you walk back into the garage, hoping to catch Joel before he leaves for the day. The receptionist gives you a disapproving look as you enter, but you ignore her and make your way towards Joel, who has just finished up with a customer. As you approach, Joel looks up and sees you, a small smile spreading across his face. "Hey there, sweetheart," he says, wiping his hands on a nearby towel. "I didn't expect to see you again so soon."

You swallow hard, trying to find the right words. "I, uh, I had some questions about my car," you say, trying to sound casual. "I figured I'd come down and ask you in person."

Joel raises an eyebrow but doesn't say anything. Instead, he nods towards the back of the garage, inviting you to follow him. As you walk, you can't help but notice the way his muscles ripple under his shirt or the way his jeans hug his hips. You feel a heat creeping up your neck, and you hope he doesn't notice.

Once you're in the back, Joel crosses his arms over his chest and looks at you with a serious expression. "Listen, sweetheart," he says, his voice low and intense. "I know what you're doing, and I want you to know that it's not going to work."

You furrow your brow, confused. "What do you mean?" you ask, your voice shaking slightly.

Joel takes a step closer to you, his eyes never leaving yours. "I mean that I know you're trying to avoid what's going on between us," he says, his voice softening. "And I get it. I know I'm not the easiest person to be around." You open your mouth to protest, but Joel holds up a hand to stop you. "But I also know that there's something between us, something real and intense," he continues. "And I don't want to ignore it anymore."

You swallow hard, your heart pounding in your chest. "What are you saying?" you ask, your voice barely above a whisper.

Joel takes another step closer to you, his body almost touching yours. "I'm saying that I want you, sweetheart," he says, his voice low and seductive. "I want to make you feel good, to show you things you've never experienced before."

Your mind is racing as you try to process what Joel is saying. On one hand, you're terrified of the intensity of your feelings for him so soon, of the way he makes your heart race and your skin tingle. On the other hand, you can't deny the attraction you feel towards him, the way your body responds to his voice alone.

As you stand there, frozen, Joel reaches out and gently takes your hand in his. "It's okay, darlin," he says, his voice soft and reassuring.

You know that you have a choice to make, a decision to make about what you want and what you're ready for. And as you stand there, looking into Joel's beautiful brown eyes, you know that you're ready. Without saying a word, you lean in and press your lips to Joel's, feeling the heat and passion of his kiss. Joel responds eagerly, his arms wrapping around your waist as he pulls you closer. You can feel the strength and power of his body. As Joel deepens the kiss, he reaches down and gently lifts you up, wrapping your legs around his waist as he carries you over to a nearby workbench. He sets you down gently, cupping your face in his hands, "Be right back, sweetheart, don't go anywhere.”

Just as Joel turns to lock up, the receptionist calls out, "Joel, she can't stay here. She's not an employee."

Joel turns to her, his expression stern. "I'll take care of it, Linda," he says. "Just go home."

Linda looks taken aback, but she doesn't argue. She grabs her things and leaves the garage, shooting you a disapproving look as she goes.

Once she's gone and the doors are locked,Joel walks back over to you, a mischievous glint in his eye. He pulls a small joint out of his pocket and holds it up for you to see. "Ever tried this before, sweetheart?" he asks, his voice low and seductive.

You shake your head, feeling a mix of excitement and nervousness. "No, I haven't," you admit.

Joel grins, lighting the joint and taking a deep drag. He holds it out to you, his eyes locked on yours. "Here, let me show you," he says.

You lean in, taking a tentative puff on the joint. The smoke is harsh and unfamiliar, but the sensation of Joel's hand on your back, guiding you, is intoxicating. You feel a warm, tingly sensation spreading through your body. He pulls back, his eyes shining with desire as he takes another drag. "You like that, sweetheart?" he asks, his voice low and husky.

You nod, unable to speak. You've never smoked weed before, but with Joel, it feels right. It feels intimate and exciting, like you're sharing a secret that only the two of you know. For a while, the two of you just stand there, wrapped up in each other, the world outside fading away, like you're the only two people in the entire world, and it's a feeling you never want to let go of.

But eventually, the joint burns down to nothing, and the two of you are forced to come back to reality. Joel grins, leaning in to kiss you again. This time, his lips are soft and gentle, his tongue exploring your mouth as he deepens the kiss. You can feel the warmth of the weed spreading through your body, making you feel relaxed and happy.

As you kiss, Joel's hands roam over your body, his fingers tracing the curves of your waist and the swell of your breasts. You moan softly, your body responding to his touch. You can feel the heat building between your legs, your clit throbbing with desire.

Joel breaks the kiss, his eyes dark with desire. "I want you, sweetheart," he says, his voice low and intense. "I want to make you feel good.” You nod, your body trembling with anticipation. You want him too, more than anything. You want to feel his hands on your body, his lips on your skin. You want to feel him inside you, filling you up and making you his.

Joel's fingers find the hem of your shirt, lifting it up over your head. He tosses it aside, his eyes raking over your body. You're wearing a lacy bra, the color of pale pink. Joel's fingers trace the lines of your bra, his touch gentle and teasing. You can feel your nipples hardening under the lace, your body begging for more.

"You're so beautiful, sweetheart," Joel says, his voice low and husky. "I can't wait to taste you." With a quick motion, he removes your bra, throwing it to the floor.

He leans in, his mouth closing over one of your nipples. His tongue flicks at the hard peak, making you gasp with pleasure. Joel's hands roam over your body. He reaches down, his fingers finding the waistband of your shorts. He tugs them down, his fingers tracing the lines of your lacy panties. You can feel his breath against your skin, hot and heavy. Joel's fingers find the edge of your panties, tugging them aside. His fingers trace the outer lips of your pussy, his touch gentle and teasing.

Joel's fingers find your entrance, sliding inside you with ease. You gasp with pleasure, your body responding to his touch. He starts to move his fingers inside you, faster, his touch more urgent. You can feel the orgasm building inside you.

"Fuck, sweetheart, so fuckin' tight," Joel growls.

You can feel yourself teetering on the edge, your breath coming in short, sharp gasps. Joel's fingers continue to work their magic.

And then, suddenly, you're there.

You cry out as you come, your orgasm ripping through you like wildfire. Joel's fingers continue, drawing out your pleasure until you're left weak and trembling in his arms. “S'okay baby, s'okay, you did so so good for me sweetheart.”

As your orgasm subsides, Joel pulls his fingers out of you, his eyes dark with desire. He licks his fingers clean, his tongue tracing the lines of your juices. You watch him, your mouth parted like you just watched him lick the tastiest ice cream cone.

Joel reaches down, his fingers finding the button of his jeans. He undoes it, tugging his jeans down over his hips. He's not wearing any underwear, and his cock springs free, hard and ready.

You can't help but stare, your eyes wide with desire. Joel's cock is long and thick, the head dark and swollen. You can see a drop of pre-cum glistening on the tip, and you can't wait to taste it. Joel steps closer to you, his cock brushing against your thigh. You can feel the heat of it, the hardness. You reach out, your fingers wrapping around the shaft. Joel groans, his head falling back as you start to stroke him. You can feel his body trembling, his cock twitching in your hand. You stroke him faster, your hand moving up and down the shaft. Joel's hands roam over your body. He reaches down, tugging your panties off in one swift motion.

You're completely exposed now, your pussy on full display. Joel's eyes darken as he takes in the sight of you, his cock throbbing in your hand.

"Fuck, you look so hot," Joel growls.

You've never felt so exposed, so vulnerable. But with Joel, it feels right. It feels exciting and thrilling, he reaches down, his fingers finding your clit. He starts to rub, his touch gentle and teasing.

"Do you like that, sweetheart?" Joel asks, his voice low and husky. You nod, unable to speak. "You're so fucking hot,," Joel growls. "I can't wait to taste you."

He drops to his knees in front of you, his eyes locked on yours. He reaches up, his fingers tracing your inner thighs. You can feel his breath against your skin, hot and heavy. Joel's tongue finds your clit, gentle and teasing. You gasp with pleasure, your body responding to his touch. Joel's tongue moves lower, tracing the outer lips of your pussy. His tongue finds your entrance, pushing inside you. You can feel him exploring his tongue, tracing your walls. Joel's fingers find your clit again, rubbing in time with his tongue.

"Fuck, Joel, m’gonna come," you cry out grabbing onto his hair.

Joel doesn't stop, his tongue and fingers continuing, his eyes don't leave yours, it makes him almost painfully hard watching you come. You cry out as you come. Joel's tongue continues to lick at your pussy, drawing out your pleasure.

"You taste so fucking good, sweetheart," Joel growls, standing up.

He steps closer to you, his cock brushing against your entrance. Joel's hands find your hips, his fingers digging into your skin. "You ready for me sweetheart?

"Yes, please, Joel." He pushes inside you, his cock filling you up completely. You gasp with pleasure, your body responding to his touch. Joel starts to move, his hips thrusting against you. His cock hits that sweet spot inside of you with every stroke. Joel reaches down, his fingers finding your. You can feel your body trembling, your pleasure building higher and higher.

"Fuck, Joel, I'm gonna come again," you cry out, your voice hoarse with pleasure.

Joel's thrusts become more urgent, his fingers moving faster. You can feel your orgasm building, your body tensing with pleasure until you come again. Joel's thrusts become erratic, his body tensing as he reaches his own release. He groans, his cock twitching inside of you as he fills you with his seed.

The two of you lie there, panting and sated, your bodies still tangled together. Joel's forehead is pressed against yours, his eyes shining with desire and affection. You can feel the warmth of his breath against your skin, the beating of his heart against your chest.

"You're so fucking perfect, sweetheart," Joel murmurs, his voice low and husky.

You smile, feeling a sense of contentment. But even as those thoughts run through your mind, you also know that you can't let yourself get carried away. You barely know Joel, and there are things about him that you don't know. Important things.

You take a deep breath, steeling yourself for what you know you have to do. "Joel, I... I need to go," you say, your voice soft but firm.

Joel's expression changes, a hint of sadness and disappointment flashing in his eyes. "Hey, what's wrong?" he asks, his voice soft.

You take a deep breath, trying to steady yourself. Suddenly, the walls feel like they're closing in on you, and you can't catch your breath. "I-I can't breathe," you manage to say, your voice shaking.

Joel's face falls, and he pulls you into a tight embrace. "It's okay, sweetheart," he murmurs, his voice soothing. "Just breathe with me, in and out. You're safe, I've got you."

You focus on Joel's voice, trying to match your breathing to his. Slowly, the panic begins to recede, and you can feel your heart rate returning to normal. "I'm so sorry," you say, your voice still shaking. "I don't know what came over me."

Joel shushes you, his hand tracing circles on your back. "It's okay," he says. "You don't have to apologize. You've been through a lot today. It's okay to feel overwhelmed."

You nod, feeling a sense of shame wash over you. You wanted to be strong, to be brave, but instead, you fell apart.

Joel must sense your embarrassment because he pulls back and looks at you with a serious expression. "Hey, listen to me," he says, his voice firm. "You have nothing to be ashamed of. You're allowed to feel however you feel, and I'm here, no matter what. Okay?"

You nod, feeling a sense of gratitude towards Joel. He's been so kind and understanding, even for someone who knows nothing about you and you can't help but feel drawn to him.

"Come on, sweetheart," Joel says, standing up and pulling you to your feet. "Let's get you out of here and into some fresh air. How about we go to my place and spend the night? I promise, no funny business."

You know it sounds crazy but a sense of relief washes over you as you agree. You don't want to be alone right now, and the thought of spending the night with Joel is weirdly comforting. As much as you know, you should probably just go home. Joel helps you get dressed, his hands gentle and reassuring. Once you're both dressed, he leads you outside and into his truck. He drives you to his house, his hand resting on yours the entire time. When you arrive, Joel leads you inside and shows you to his bedroom. He pulls back the covers and helps you climb into bed, tucking you in like a child. "Just rest, sweetheart," he says, his voice soft. "I'll be right back."

You nod, feeling a sense of exhaustion wash over you. Joel returns a few minutes later with a glass of water. He helps you sit up and take a sip of water, then lays down next to you, pulling you into a tight embrace.

You rest your head on his chest, listening to the steady rhythm of his heartbeat. It's soothing, and you can feel yourself drifting off to sleep.

"Thank you, Joel," you murmur, your voice sleepy.

Joel kisses the top of your head, his arms tightening around you. "Anytime, sweetheart," he says. "I'm always here for you."

As you drift off to sleep, you can't help but feel a sense of gratitude towards Joel. He's been so kind and understanding. For the first time in a long time, you feel safe, and you know that everything is going to be okay.

As you sleep, Joel watches over you, his eyes full of affection and concern. He's fallen for you, hard.

As the night wears on, Joel holds you close, his arms wrapped around you. He knows that you're not ready for anything serious, and he's okay with that. For now, he's just happy to be with you, to be there for you, to comfort you, and to make you happy.

[lesbianrobin]

ok so here is my pitch for my dream buddie catalyst:

eddie and maddie are trapped in some sort of likely-fatal time sensitive situation together (drowning related probably because it's Them) (have they overused it yes is it still thematically appropriate YES) where one person could potentially sacrifice themselves for the other to survive. i want eddie and maddie using their combined experience and ingenuity to survive together and discussing who should be prioritized which means they talk about parenthood and how they both feel they've failed their children by "running," how their lives have been so defined by trauma and they don't want to scar their children any further by leaving them again. of course they're doing everything they can to get out together, but as the situation deteriorates throughout the episode(s) (c'mon something like this could be at LEAST a two-parter) they can't help returning periodically to the world's most morbid debate.

i want buck and chim on the outside both going out of their goddamn minds. they know that eddie and maddie are stuck (wherever), know that they're probably alive, but aren't sure in what condition and if they'll stay that way. rescue operations begin as everybody walks on eggshells around buck and tries to comfort chim, who wants absolutely none of it. time is running out.

eddie says that he couldn't possibly let maddie sacrifice herself for him and look buck and chim in the eye afterwards. maddie says that she couldn't do that either. she says that at least jee-yun would still have her father, and eddie says that christopher would still have buck. maddie says that of course none of them would just abandon christopher if something were to happen to him but—

and eddie cuts her off and says it's in my will. if i die, christopher will have buck. buck will have christopher.

they just look at each other for a weighted moment. maddie makes a decision. she says ...i meant it, you know. that i couldn't let you die down here (wherever here is i don't KNOW okay i'm not here to think up convoluted emergencies i'm here for drama) and look my baby brother in the eye knowing that i could have changed it. eddie says i know, okay, but it's different, you're his sister, and maddie says, yeah, but you're his... and she pauses. and eddie says what? best friend? partner? that doesn't—

and maddie says you're his. eddie, you're his.

and eddie... i want to see something slot into place. i want to watch him understand as maddie spills everything she's been suspecting since the day that buck came out to her and maybe since before she and eddie even met. maddie says you know, when i first came to california, you were all he talked about? you're still all he talks about. you and christopher. you're his. i couldn't... eddie, you're out of your mind if you really don't think that losing you would break him just as much as losing me. he would forgive us both, because he's buck, but i couldn't... i'm no saint, eddie, i want to survive. i don't want my daughter to grow up without me. but i can't do that to him. i don't know if he'd survive it. even if he did, the guilt would eat me alive.

meanwhile. buck is barely holding on to his sanity as rescue efforts are underway and time is running out. chimney is keeping it together as best he can but there isn't much that he and buck can do. he can't let himself fall apart because buck is already a stiff breeze away from clawing his own skin off and somebody has to keep their cool. something goes wrong—suddenly, their short amount of time has gotten shorter, and they may only have enough of a window to get one out before it's too late for the other. buck, who has been ranting and arguing and screaming this whole time... is silent. he is silent, and he stares straight ahead at nothing in particular, and we know that no matter which way the scales tip, his soul will be destroyed all the same.

eddie regards maddie for a moment. grief, heartbreak, anger, all flicker over him, but what settles is determination. he says that neither of them are going to leave again. that they'll survive together, or not at all, or leave it to the universe to decide.

of course they make it out. by the skin of their teeth, they make it out, working together, clawing their way back to life and love and possibility. maddie makes it out first, and eddie sees buck as she falls into chim's waiting arms. he watches as buck sees his sister, and reaches out to take her hand with trembling fingers and white knuckles, but there is no relief, no happiness in his red-rimmed eyes. just a deep, unspeakable grief, until his eyes slide past maddie and meet eddie's.

finally: relief. and then he is in buck's arms, a perfect parallel to chim and maddie, and we see eddie's face over buck's shoulder, and we know. he is in love, and buck is in love, and eddie knows, and he sinks into his partner's embrace with joy and acceptance.

after that, who knows? maybe a grand confession. a moment of quiet understanding. a passionate post-rescue kiss. a chaste, tender kiss in some kitchen or other. maybe eddie panics later, or maybe he's found peace for once. maybe buck has realized something and he makes the first move. maybe it happens immediately. maybe it takes a while, takes discussions about how it'll affect work and christopher and whether it's worth risking all that they have for all that they want.

and maybe they'll ask whether it's even a risk at all.

[rootedinrevisions]

Texas Orange

SUMMARY: Heavily based on the song "Tennesse Orange" by Megan Moroney. You're in the early stages of your relationship with Glen and he takes you to a Texas football game with him.

**This was my first time writing about Glen himself and not one of his characters. I really loved the idea and the song that inspired this fic, however think I may stick to writing his characters instead of him as a person in the future. **

WARNINGS: None

WORD COUNT: 5.4k

The Texas sun hangs low in the sky, casting a warm, golden light over the landscape as you and Glen drive through the winding roads of Austin. The truck hums steadily beneath you, the air conditioning a welcome relief from the sweltering heat outside.

You glance over at Glen, dressed in a black t-shirt with the orange Texas Longhorns symbol emblazoned on the chest, and a white Longhorns baseball cap turned backward on his head. His sunglasses shield his eyes from the bright light, and with one hand on the wheel, he holds your hand gently in the other. You glance over at him, and the corners of his mouth lift into a smile when he catches you looking at him.

"This is amazing," you say, taking in the sprawling hills and the way the cityscape rises in the distance. "I can't believe I've never been here before."

Glen chuckles, his voice low and smooth, the kind of sound that makes you feel instantly at ease. "I still can't believe that. Austin's pretty great. But, I mean, you grew up on the coast, right? Plenty of beauty there too."

You nod, your mind flashing back to memories of ocean breezes and sandy beaches, a world away from the vast, open skies of Texas. "Yeah, but it's different. I've never seen anything quite like this."

He grins, squeezing your hand gently. "You're gonna love it here. Plus, this is only the start. Wait till you see the stadium-it's a whole other world."

You laugh, feeling a mix of excitement and nerves bubble up inside you. "Speaking of the stadium, I've got to admit something. I've never actually been to a football game before. My family wasn't really into sports growing up."

Glen's eyebrows shoot up in surprise, but he quickly recovers with a teasing grin. "You've never been to a game? Well, that changes today. Texas football is like a religion around here. It's something you just have to experience.

"Hopefully I'll fit in okay," you say, half-joking. The thought of stepping into the massive stadium, surrounded by thousands of passionate fans, is both thrilling and a little daunting.

He chuckles, his voice warm with affection. "Don't worry, I'll be right there with you. We'll ease you into it. Plus, my folks are going to be so excited to meet you they're gonna forget about the game, at least for a minute."

The mention of his family makes your stomach flip. This is a big step, meeting his family, even if you've both been keeping things casual. There's a part of you that wonders if this trip is more than just a casual one for Glen.

"What are they like? Your family, I mean," you ask, trying to keep your tone light.

Glen's expression softens, a fond smile playing on his lips. "They're great. They'll love you, I promise. My mom might be a little overwhelming at first, but that's just because she cares so much. And my dad, well he's the quiet type, but once you get him talking about anything Texas-related, you won't be able to get him to stop."

You smile at the thought, feeling a bit more at ease. "They sound like a good bunch."

"They are," Glen says, his voice sincere. "And they're going to love you. How could they not?"

His words bring warmth to your chest, and you squeeze his hand in return. "I hope so."

As the two of you continue to drive further into Austin, Glen gives you a mini tour. He points out a few landmarks - his favorite taco place, the park where he used to hang out with friends, and a music venue where he once saw an incredible show. You listen, soaking in every detail, feeling a sense of connection to this place that Glen clearly loves so much.

"Here we are," Glen says as he pulls into a parking spot near the stadium. The massive structure looms ahead, a sea of burnt orange and white, alive with energy even from a distance.

You take a deep breath, a mixture of anticipation and nerves swirling inside you. "This is it, huh?"

"This is it," Glen confirms, turning to you with a smile that melts away any lingering doubts. "Ready?"

"As I'll ever be," you say, smiling back at him.

As you step out of Glen's truck, you notice that nearly everyone around you is decked out in burnt orange and white. Texas Longhorns hats, jerseys, and t-shirts, all show their pride. The sea of matching colors makes you acutely aware that you're the only one not wearing any team gear.

Glen steps around the truck to join you, noticing the way your eyes scan the crowd. He gives you a playful nudge with his elbow. "Feeling a little out of place?"

You laugh, shrugging slightly. "Just a bit. I think I missed the memo on the dress code."

Without missing a beat, Glen reaches up to the back of his head and pulls off the white Longhorns cap he's been wearing. He turns it around in his hands before stepping closer to you. "Here, you can wear this. Can't have you being the odd one out."

Before you can respond, he's already placing the cap on your head. His fingers brush against your hair as he adjusts the fit, making sure it sits just right. You tilt your head up at him, a small smile tugging at the corners of your lips. "How do I look?"

Glen takes a step back to admire his work, a slow smile spreading across his face. "You look great in Orange. Might even say you wear it better than I do."

You roll your eyes playfully, feeling a warmth spread through you at his words. "You might be biased."

"Maybe," he says with a grin, his eyes sparkling with affection. "But I'm also right."

As you walk towards the section of the parking lot reserved for tailgating, Glen drapes an arm over your shoulders, keeping you close. "Tell you what, we'll hit up the merch stand once we're inside. Gotta get you a t-shirt to complete the look."

"You don't have to do that," you start to protest, but Glen shakes his head.

"I want to," he insists, squeezing your shoulder lightly. "Consider it part of the full Texas football experience."

You smile up at him, feeling more at ease with every step. "Alright, but only if you help me pick it out."

"Deal," Glen says, leaning down to press a quick kiss to your temple before leading you into the sea of orange and white.

The aroma of sizzling barbecue fills the air as you and Glen approach the tailgating area. Rows of trucks and RVs are lined up in the parking lot, each decked out in burnt orange. Flags bearing the Texas Longhorns logo flutter in the breeze, and the sounds of laughter, music, and clinking bottles create a festive atmosphere.

Glen leads you through the crowd with a confident stride, his hand securely holding yours. As you near a large, lively group gathered around a grill, Glen spots his family and friends.

"There they are," he says, nodding towards the group. "Ready to meet everyone?"

You take a deep breath, feeling a mix of excitement and nerves. "Ready as I'll ever be."

Glen gives your hand a reassuring squeeze as you approach the group. His mom, Cyndy, is the first to spot the two of you, and her face lights up with a welcoming smile. She's a petite woman with a warm demeanor, her eyes crinkling at the corners as she waves you over.

"There you are!" Cyndy calls out, pulling Glen into a quick hug before turning her attention to you. "And you must be the one we've been hearing so much about. I'm Cyndy, it's so nice to finally meet you!"

You return her smile, instantly feeling at ease with her friendly nature. "It's great to meet you too. Glen's told me a lot about you."

"Oh, I'm sure he has," Cyndy says with a wink before pulling you into a hug. "Welcome, sweetheart."

Next, Glen's dad, Glen Sr., steps forward with a firm handshake and a nod. He's tall and broad-shouldered, with a quiet strength about him. "Good to have you here," he says simply, but the warmth in his tone is unmistakable.

Then, Glen's sisters Lauren and Leslie, each take their turn to greet you. Lauren gives you a friendly smile. "You're braver than I would be, meeting the whole crew at once like this. They can be a handful, but you'll be fine."

Leslie nudges Glen playfully. "You didn't warn her about us, did you?"

Glen laughs, shaking his head. "I figured I'd let you all speak for yourselves."

As you exchange pleasantries, more of Glen's friends and extended family members join in, introducing themselves and welcoming you with open arms. Someone hands you a cold drink, and before you know it, you're standing around a grill piled high with burgers, sausages, and all the fixings, soaking in the pre-game atmosphere.

The conversation quickly turns to stories about Glen's past. A few of his college buddies, each with a beer in hand, are eager to share some of their favorite memories.

"Remember that time Glen tried to impress a girl by riding a mechanical bull at that honky-tonk?" One of them starts, a grin spreading across his face.

"Oh, I remember!" Another chimes in. "He was so confident, strutted right up there like he was gonna show everyone how it's done. Lasted about five seconds before he got thrown off and landed flat on his back."

The group erupts in laughter, and even Glen can't help but chuckle at the memory. "Yeah, yeah, laugh it up," he says shaking his head. "At least I gave it a shot."

Cyndy leans in closer to you, a glint in her eye. "That's nothing compared to the time he and his sister decided to 'borrow' my car when they were kids. Thought they'd take a little joyride around the neighborhood...until they crashed it into a mailbox."

"Oh no!" You gasp, unable to suppress a laugh.

Lauren grins, shaking her head at the memory. "We were grounded for months. Glen thought he was so slick, but he didn't realize the mailbox he hit belonged to one of Dad's friends."

"Yep," Glen Sr adds with a rare smile, "and that's how they learned not to mess with my car."

The easy banter and lighthearted stories quickly dissolve any lingering nerves you have. Glen's family and friends are down-to-earth, welcoming you into their inner circle as if you've always been a part of it. The more they share, the more you see the depth of their bond and the way they care for each other.

As you take another bite of your burger, you look over at Glen, who's been watching you with a soft smile. "You doing okay?" he asks quietly, leaning in so only you can hear.

You nod, feeling completely at ease now. "Yeah, I'm doing great. Your family's wonderful."

His smile widens as he places a hand gently on your back. "I'm glad you think so. They're a little crazy, but they're mine."

"And now I guess I'm part of them too," you say with a playful grin.

Glen's eyes light up at your words, and he leans in to press a quick, affectionate kiss to your lips. "Yeah, I guess you are."

Just then, one of Glen's friends raises his drink and shouts "Hook 'em, Horns!" The entire group responds in unison, raising their hands in the iconic "Hook 'em Horns" gesture, with pinkies and index figures extended with the thumb tucked grasping the second and third fingers.

You try to mimic the gesture, but you don't quite cooperate. Glen catches your struggle and chuckles softly. "Here, let me help," he says, gently taking your hand in his.

With his warm fingers guiding yours, Glen carefully adjusts your hand, making sure your pinky and index fingers are extended and your thumb tucks the other fingers. His touch is gentle and precise, and you can't help but feel a little flutter in your chest as he concentrates on getting it just right.

"How's that?" you ask, looking up at him with a smile.

He gives your hand a final tweak before stepping back to admire his work. "Perfect," he says, his voice soft and affectionate. "Now you're officially part of the team."

You laugh, feeling a rush of warmth at his words. "Guess I really am one of you now."

The group continues to laugh and share stories as the sun begins to dip lower in the sky, casting a warm glow over the gathering. The pre-game atmosphere, filled with the sounds of sizzling food, clinking bottles, and cheerful banter, is everything you imagined - and more. With Glen's arm draped comfortably around your shoulders and the "Hook 'em Horns" gesture nailed down, you feel a sense of belonging that surprises you in the best possible way.

As the tailgate winds down and the anticipation for the game grows, Glen wraps his arm around your waist, guiding you through the throng of excited fans heading towards the stadium. The air is filled with the sounds of chanting, music, and the collective buzz of thousands of supporters, all eager for the big game.

"Ready for the full game day experience?" Glen asks, glancing over at you with a grin.

You nod, feeling a mixture of excitement and curiosity. "Definitely. Lead the way."

As you approach the entrance, Glen veers off towards a merchandise stand just inside the gate, keeping his promise to get you your very own Texas Longhorns shirt. The stand is awash with burnt orange and white, offering everything from t-shirts to hoodies, foam fingers, and even Longhorns-themed sunglasses.

"Okay, let's find you something," Glen says, scanning the racks of shirts. He picks out a simple, yet classic burnt orange t-shirt with the Texas Longhorns logo emblazoned across the front. Holding it up to you, he grins "How about this one?"

You take the shirt from him, feeling the soft fabric between your fingers. "It's perfect," you say, already imagining yourself fitting right in with the sea of orange in the stadium.

Glen pays for the shirt and then hands it back to you. "Go ahead and try it on. Let's see how it looks."

You pull the t-shirt over your white tank top, the bright orange contrasting perfectly with your outfit. As you smooth the fabric down, Glen steps back to admire the look.

"Hold on," he says, reaching for the white Texas Longhorns baseball cap he had been wearing earlier. With a playful grin, he gently places it back on your head, adjusting the brim so it sits just right. His fingers linger for a moment, tucking a stray strand of hair behind your ear.

You look up at him, a smile playing on your lips. "How do I look?"

Glen's gaze softens as he takes you in, a warm smile spreading across his face. "You look great," he says, his voice filled with genuine affection. "I think orange might be your color."

You laugh softly, feeling a blush creep up your cheeks. "Guess I'm officially part of the team now."

"Absolutely," Glen replies, leaning in to brush a quick kiss against your forehead. "Now, let's get to our seats."

With his arm comfortably draped around your shoulders, Glen guides you through the bustling concourse and up towards the exclusive box seats he reserved for you, his family, and close friends. As you walk, you can't help but notice a few heads turning, whispers following in your wake. It's clear that Glen's presence isn't going unnoticed.

But Glen seems unfazed by the attention, focused entirely on making sure you're comfortable and enjoying yourself. "Don't worry," he says, sensing your unease as you pass by a group of fans who seem to be debating whether or not to approach. "The suite will give us a bit of privacy. It's just us and the people we want to be with."

You give him a grateful smile, relieved at the thought of a more private space. "That sounds perfect."

When you reach the suite, a staff member opens the door, revealing a spacious, comfortable area with large windows offering an unobstructed view of the field. The room is decked out with cozy seating, a fully stocked fridge, and even a table spread with game day snacks.

Glen's family is already there, mingling and settling in, and they greet you warmly as you enter. You quickly realize that this box isn't just a place to watch the game - it's a space where you can relax, enjoy the company, and soak in the experience without any interruptions.

Glen guides you to a seat near the window, right next to him. As you take in the view of the field below, and the energy of the crowd that's starting to pile into the stadium, you feel a sense of excitement bubbling up.

"So, what do you think?" Glen asks, settling in beside you, his hand casually resting on your knee.

You turn to him, your smile reflecting the excitement you feel. "It's incredible."

Glen grins, clearly pleased. "I'm glad you're here," he says giving your knee a gentle squeeze. "Now, get ready for some real Texas football."

Suddenly, the lights dim, and the giant screen at the far end of the stadium flickers to life. The Texas Longhorns logo appears, and the crowd erupts into cheers. You glance over at Glen, who is grinning ear to ear, clearly caught up in the excitement.

"Here they come," he says, nodding towards the tunnel at the edge of the field.

The sound of drums fills the air as the Texas Longhorns marching band begins playing. The brass instruments gleam under the stadium lights and the rhythm of the drums pulses through the stands, making your heart beat a little faster.

As the band starts playing the school fight song, the crowd rises to their feet, the familiar tune echoing throughout the stadium. Glen stands up, pulling you to your feet with him. The sight is breathtaking - the sea of burnt orange, the flags waving proudly, and the booming voices of thousands of fans all joining together in the song.

Glen leans in close, his voice just above a whisper in your ear. "You've got to sing along, it's tradition."

You smile nervously, not sure what the words are, but Glen's enthusiasm is contagious. As the band reaches the chorus, Glen starts singing, his voice blending with the roar of the crowd. "Texas Fight! Texas Fight! And it's goodbye to A&M..."

You start to hum along to the words, your soft voice, almost drowned out by the thousands of others. But Glen's infection energy pulls you in. His eyes spark with excitement. "Louder!" he urges, his grin widening.

You laugh, feeling the last of your hesitation melt away as you throw yourself into the chant, clapping along with the beat and shouting the words with enthusiasm. Glen's pride is evident, and he can't hide his delight at seeing you get into the spirit of the game.

As the team bursts onto the field, the stadium erupts into a thunderous roar. The players, clad in their iconic burnt orange and white uniforms, charge out of the tunnel, the sight of them stirring a fresh wave of excitement into the crowd. The band crescendos into the final notes of the fight song, and the noise level reaches a fever pitch.

Glen wraps an arm around your shoulders, pulling you close as the team lines up on the field. "What do you think?" he asks, his voice barely audible over the noise.

You look up at him, your heart racing with the excitement of the moment. "It's amazing," you reply, your smile wide and genuine. "I can see why you love this so much."

As the players take their positions on the field, the atmosphere in the stadium becomes electric. The roar of the crowd swells, and you can feel the anticipation vibrating through the stands. You're fully immersed in the excitement, your earlier nerves replaced with growing enthusiasm as Glen points out different players and explains the significance of the game.

Just as you start to relax, the opening kickoff is moments away. You're leaning forward in your seat, eyes glued to the field when suddenly - BOOM!

The deafening sound of Smokey the Cannon firing catches you completely off guard. You jump in your seat, your heart racing as the shock of the blast reverberates through your chest.

Glen, noticing your startled reaction, can't help but chuckle. "Sorry, I should've warned you about that," he says, wrapping his arms around you in a comforting embrace. His laugh is warm and affectionate, and he pulls you close, resting his chin on your shoulder. "That's Smokey the Cannon. It fires off at every kickoff. Just part of the tradition."

You lean into his embrace, your initial fright quickly fading as you feel the steady rhythm of his heartbeat against your back. "I think I just aged a few years," you say with a laugh, trying to shake off the lingering adrenaline. "I wasn't expecting that at all."

Glen's grip tightens slightly, his way of reassuring you. "It's loud, but you'll get used to it," he says, his voice gentle and comforting in your ear. "Trust me, by the end of the game, you'll be waiting for it."

You turn your head to catch his eye, feeling a smile tug at the corners of your mouth. "I'll take your word for it," you reply, your nerves settling as you take comfort in his closeness.

The game kicks off, and the action on the field immediately draws you back in. As the players clash, the crowd erupts into cheers and groans, their energy contagious. Glen keeps you close, his arm draped over your shoulders, and you find yourself getting more and more caught up in the excitement of it all.

Throughout the game, Glen is right there, guiding you through the experience. He explains the rules as plays unfold, pointing out the strategy behind each move. "See how the quarterback is scanning the field?" he says at one point. "He's looking for an open receiver, someone who can catch the ball and make a run for it."

You nod, trying to absorb the information. "It's a lot more complicated than I thought," you admit, appreciating his patience.

Glen grins, his eyes twinkling with enthusiasm. "That's what makes it fun," he says. "Once you start to understand the strategy, it's like watching a chess match...only with a lot more action."

As the game progresses, you find yourself cheering along with the crowd, your earlier nerves completely forgotten. Glen's explanations help you feel more connected to the game, and his excitement is infectious. Each time something exciting happens on the field - a touchdown, a particularly good tackle - he turns to you with a grin, eager to share the moment.

"Did you see that?" he asks after a particularly impressive play, his eyes alight with excitement. "That's what they call a 'Hail Mary' - a long pass to try and score a touchdown when time's running out."

You nod, caught up in the moment. "I think I'm starting to get the hang of this," you say, feeling a sense of pride as you follow the flow of the game.

Glen leans in, his voice low and full of affection. "You're doing great," he says, his hand finding yours and giving it a gentle squeeze. "I'm glad you're here with me."

You smile up at him, the warmth of his words making your heart flutter. "Me too," you reply, feeling more at home in the stadium with each passing moment.

As the game continues, the two of you settle into a comfortable rhythm - Glen explaining plays, you cheering along with the crowd, and both of you enjoying the shared experience. It's a day filled with excitement, but also with moments of quiet connection, each one deepening the bond between you.

And by the time Smokey the Cannon fires off again, you barely flinch - too caught up in the thrill of the game and the warmth of Glen's presence beside you.

The final whistle blows and the stadium erupts in a sea of burnt orange and white. Texas has won, and the energy in the air is electric. Fans are cheering, hugging, and celebrating as the Longhorns players wave to the crowd before making their way off the field. You can't help but get caught up in the excitement, clapping along as the band strikes up the fight song one last time.

As the crowd begins to thin out, Glen helps you gather your things, and the two of you make your way out of the suite. The halls of the stadium are still buzzing with excitement, fans streaming toward the exits, chatting excitedly about the game. You notice a few people casting glances your way - recognition flickering in their eyes as they realize who Glen is.

You feel a flutter of nervousness in your chest as the looks become more frequent. The idea of being recognized, of suddenly being in the spotlight, is overwhelming. But before the anxiety can take hold, Glen reaches for your hand. His grip is firm, and reassuring, and he gives you a comforting smile.

"Don't worry," he murmurs, his thumb brushing over the back of your hand. "I'm right here."

His words and his touch soothe you, and you take a deep breath, focusing on the warmth of his hand in yours rather than the curious glances around you. Together, you navigate through the crowd, Glen's presence beside you acting as an anchor, keeping you steady.

As you step out into the cool evening air, the noise of the stadium fades behind you, replaced by the more distant sounds of fans celebrating in the parking lot. The crowd is thinning out, and the atmosphere feels less intense, allowing you to finally relax.

Glen leads you to his truck, and as you approach it, he glances over at you, his expression softening. "So...your first Texas game," he says as he opens the passenger door for you. "What did you think? Did it live up to the hype?"

Your smile, climbing into the truck and settling into the seat. "It really did," you reply, your tone reflecting the surprise in your voice. "I didn't think I'd get so caught up in it, but I did. The energy, the crowd, the way everyone was so passionate...it was contagious."

Glen closes the door and walks around to the driver's side, sliding into the seat beside you. He doesn't start the truck right away, instead turning slightly to face you, his gaze soft and warm.

"I'm really glad you came," he says, his voice sincere. "It means a lot to me to share this with you."

You feel your heart swell at his words, and you take a moment to let them sink in. "I'm glad I came too," you say softly, your eyes meeting his. "It's not something I ever imagined myself doing, but I'm really happy I did."

Glen reaches out and takes your hand again, his fingers intertwining with yours. "You were a great sport about everything," he says, a playful smile tugging at his lips. "Even when Smokey scared the life out of you."

You laugh, shaking your head at the memory. "I'll admit, that was a bit much," you say with a grin. "But honestly, the whole experience was incredible. I see now why it's such a big deal for you."

Glen's smile widens, and for a moment, the two of you simply sit there, hands clasped, sharing a quiet, meaningful silence. The excitement of the day is still buzzing in your veins, but there's also a deeper feeling - a sense of connection, of understanding, that goes beyond just the game.

"I'm really happy you're here with me," Glen says quietly, his voice carrying a weight of emotion. "This...it all means a lot more with you by my side."

His words hit you in a way you didn't expect, and you realize just how much this day, and this man, have come to mean to you. You squeeze his hand, feeling a warmth spread through you that has nothing to do with the game or the crowd, but everything to do with him.

"I'm happy to be here," you reply, your voice just as soft. "With you."

For a moment, the world outside the truck seems to fade away, leaving just the two of you in the stillness of the parking lot. It's a moment of quiet reflection, of mutual appreciation, and as you sit there, you realize that this experience has brought you closer to Glen in a way you hadn't anticipated.

Glen starts the engine, but before he shifts into gear, he leans over and presses a tender kiss to your lips. It's soft, sweet, and filled with unspoken emotion, a perfect ending to a day you'll never forget.

As he pulls away, you both smile at each other, the bond between you stronger than ever. As the truck rolls out of the parking lot, leaving the stadium behind, you feel a sense of contentment, knowing that this is just the beginning of something truly special.

The next morning sunlight filters through the curtains, casting a warm glow across your bedroom. You sit on the edge of your bed, phone in hand, absently twisting the brim of Glen's baseball cap between your fingers. The events of the previous day play on a loop in your mind - Glen's infectious enthusiasm, the electrifying atmosphere of the game, and the way he held your hand, guiding you through it all. A smile tugs at your lips as you remember the look in his eyes when he told you how much it meant to him to have you there.

But now, in the quiet of your room, the excitement of the game has given way to do something deeper - an unmistakable warmth in your chest, a feeling that's both exhilarating and a little terrifying. You realize that what started as casual dating has slowly grown into something more. And for the first time, you feel the need to talk to someone about it.

You take a deep breath and scroll through your contacts, landing on your mom's number. The familiar sound of the ringtone fills the room as you hold the phone to your ear, your heart beating a little faster with each passing second. Finally, you hear her voice on the other end, warm and welcoming as always.

"Hi, sweetie! How are you?" Your mom greets you, the sound of her voice instantly soothing some of your nerves.

"Hey, Mom," you reply, trying to keep your voice steady. "I'm good. Just...thinking about a lot of things."

Your mom chuckles softly. "Well, it sounds like you've got something on your mind. What's going on?"

You pause for a moment, gathering your thoughts before you begin. "I met somebody, and...he's really great, Mom. he's got these green eyes that I could just get lost in, and he's so sweet. He opens doors for me, he makes me laugh, and he...he doesn't make me cry." Your voice softens as you say the last part, a small admission of how different this feels from anything you've experienced before.

There's a brief silence on the other end, and then your mom speaks, her voice gentle. "He sounds wonderful, honey. Tell me more about him."

A smile spreads across your face as you think about Glen. "He's from Texas, not exactly where we're from, but...when I'm with him, he feels like home. He's got me doing things I never thought I'd do, like going to a football game." You laugh, still a little surprised at how much you enjoyed the experience.

Your mom laughs too, a mix of surprise and amusement in her tone. "A football game? You? Never thought I'd see the day."

"I know, right?" you reply, shaking your head at the memory. "He even gave me his hat to wear because I didn't have any Texas gear. And, Mom...I liked it. I really liked it."

There's a pause, and you can almost hear your mom's smile through the phone. "It sounds like you're really falling for this guy."

You bite your lip, the truth of her words sinking in. "I think I am," you admit, your voice barely above a whisper. "Mama...I like him a lot. I even learned the words to the Texas Fight Song."

Your mom's laughter rings through the phone, full of warmth and understanding. "It sounds like he's got you wrapped around his finger," she teases, but there's no judgment in her voice, only happiness for you.

"Maybe he does," you say, feeling a warmth spread through you at the thought. "But...it feels right, Mom. He feels right."

Your mom's voice softens, a hint of emotion creeping in. "I'm happy for you, sweetheart. Just take things one step at a time, and follow your heart."

You nod, even though she can't see you. "Thanks, Mom. I will."

As you end the call, you feel a sense of peace wash over you. Talking to your mom has helped you put things into perspective, and you realize that you're ready to see where things go with Glen, no matter where that may lead. The thought of him brings a smile to your face, and you can't help but feel a flutter of excitement at what the future might hold.