#but i just don’t have the time or the resources to make the trip like i originally planned :(

[paradiseismine]

Finnverse love languages headcanons

Pairing: Finn Wolfhard + Finnverse characters x f!reader

Summary: how Finn and each of his characters would display their affection towards you, according to the 5 love languages theory.

Warnings: mostly fluff, a bit of spice 🎀🌶️ (still sfw)

Love note from Nina: I saw y’all in my poll wanting more Finnverse posts. Here you go, lovelies 💕 more Olivia and Mike content coming soon too!

Finn Wolfhard (himself)

Main love languages: quality time + gifts

Being as busy as he is, Finnie considers time to be an important and scarce resource in his life. That being said, he’ll make time for you as much as he possibly can - even if that means taking an early flight and/or staying up all night. When you two are together, he’s 100% yours: barely touches his phone and doesn’t zone out while you two are talking. He loves to take you to cute coffee shops and museums, as well as tennis or basketball games. He’s not very pda oriented, but will hold your hand at all times while you’re out together.

Since he travels so much because of filming, he can’t always be present for special occasions, and feels very guilty about it. So, whenever he comes back from a work trip, he’ll surely show up at your front door with a box of gifts for you. Small jewelry, clothes, exotic snacks, perfume, you name it, he’ll bring it. Sometimes, he’ll even ask you directly for suggestions on what to buy for you (“Babe, I’m going to France next month. What would you like from there? Anything specific?”). He just loves you so much and wants you to feel safe in your relationship, even if he can’t physically be with you as much as he would like (which is 24/7).

Boris Pavlikovsky

Main love languages: physical touch + gifts

Your favorite foreign is naturally quite touch oriented, that you’ve always known, but isn’t something merely sexual - of course, he loves to pin you down on his bed and make you his, loves to grope your body and leave small purple marks on your neck. But he’ll basically never not be touching you. Expect hand holding at all times when you two are out on the street; an arm around your waist when at a party or any social gathering, little pecks to your cheeks and lips every now and again. He likes to trace your features as you lie down on his lap, as well as massaging your hands or your feet when he has the chance. “You’re so perfect, my love, I like to touch because I feel that you are real and not just my dream, yes?”, he’ll say. Ugh, vou love this boy.

Overall, Boris wants his girl to feel taken care of. He’ll always ask if you need anything, if you’re craving any specific food or ran out of any of the beauty products you usually use. He will always look for those in order to get them for you, and if he can’t provide something that you want, obviously, he’ll steal it. He’s been kicked out of a few convenience stores for shoplifting your favorite snacks and cannot set foot in Sephora anymore, but still gets Theo to help him get things for you. You don’t ask him for all this stuff, but he wants to display his love for you in a way that he thinks will make you feel happy. Sometimes he steals random stuff too, like a book or a keychain, just for you to have it, even if it’s something silly or not something you actually need. It’s adorable, you’re just afraid of him getting in trouble for it.

Mike Wheeler

Main love languages: quality time + physical touch

Being the party leader, Mike loves to plan things ahead of time and make sure everything will happen perfectly - that extends and even intensifies when it comes to dates with you. He always comes up with new ideas for you two to spend some time together: stargazing, looking for shapes in clouds, having a little picnic, reading the same book out loud to each other (taking turns in each paragraph), movie nights, game nights, biking around together. When you’re out of town and away from him, he’ll call you every day and keep talking with you on the phone for hours until his mom yells that she’ll make him pay the bill. He’s always looking for fun things to do with you, and can’t wait to tell you about them. He just loves you, and you’re his girlfriend, so it’s not, like, weird, right?

When you two are in the same room, any stranger that comes by can immediately tell that you’re a couple. His arm is usually around your shoulder/waist, or his thumb is caressing the back of your hand gently, or he’s peppering your forehead in kisses. Out of the Finnverse bunch, Mike is the most touchy-feely, and is always looking for an excuse to touch you. If your parents or his parents aren’t home, you are going to casually give each other a call and come over to whoever’s house is empty for a good couch make out session. At parties, there’s always a point in the evening in which the gang will look around and you two will be nowhere to be found - sneaking into a more private area for some intense hooking up is still frequent, and Mike will savor the moment as much as possible, as long as his pretty girl is comfortable, of course.

Miles Fairchild

Main love languages: acts of service + gifts

When you two started dating and Miles gently kissed your hand saying he’d do anything for you, he meant it more seriously (and literally) than you’d expect. In fact, you need to be careful with what you allow him to do for you - you complained about this one girl at school one day and Miles weirdly asked you if you wanted her to vanish. You picked up on what he meant and quickly denied, stating you only wanted her out of your life, not life itself. The girl ended up transferring schools shortly after, but rumor has it she’s still alive (though maybe traumatized). He’ll do anything for you, no matter what or how.

Not being very good with expressing himself through words, Miles also sees gifts as a non-verbal way of communicating: whether it is to express his love for you, apologize or prepare you for something special (meeting Flora for the first time, for example), he’ll shower you in gifts. Expensive ones, mostly. His family’s wealth is at your full disposal, according to him - he’ll sometimes show you magazines with pictures of houses or cars and ask you which ones you like best, which style of decoration you find the most beautiful. He’s crazy for you and intends to marry you as soon as you both finish your education, so he wants to have everything perfectly picked out to cater for your tastes before he even proposes.

Trevor Spengler

Main love languages: acts of service + quality time

Ever since your first encounter ever, you know that if anything happens, you can call Trevor. If your car’s not starting, if you broke the heel of your favorite shoe, if you need someone to help you put together a new piece of furniture. Nowadays, you won’t even have to ask - Trev will notice something’s in need of repair, for instance, and offer to fix it for you. It’s his pleasure to know he’s being helpful and releasing you from any concerning little things that come up. He wants his girl to be able to relax and focus on what’s important - he’ll take care of the rest, no problem.

When he’s not all tangled up in his ghostbusting duties, my dear, this boy is attaching himself to you by the hip. That includes driving you anywhere you need, taking you to the movies, eating dinner at a cute restaurant, anything you want, really. He’ll educate himself on any special interest of yours in order to spend more time with you, whether it’s by accompanying you to any related event or just talking about it in general. All of his friends know you from the very beginning, and his mom and Phoebe are also used to seeing you hang out at their house in weekdays, ‘cause Trev ain’t waiting for the weekend to spend time with his princess. Lucky usually makes fun of him for being so clingy, but you’re not complaining - his company is your favorite, and he’s always on board to whatever weekend activities you have in mind. He’s a “let’s go?” “let’s go!” kinda guy and you love that about him.

Ziggy Katz

Main love languages: words of affirmation + acts of service

Ziggster is pretty vocal on how he feels about you: he’s always calling you pet names, telling you how beautiful you are, saying that he loves you more than anything else in the world. You two exchange hoodies quite often, and whenever he returns one of yours (because it no longer smells like you), you reach for the front pocket - there’s always going to be a little love note in there, something along the lines of “Don’t forget how much I love you (and also that you’re hot as fuck). Love, Ziggy”. He sometimes draws little stick figures and say that it’s the two of you, usually kissing or playing the same guitar. His morning texting game is also amazing, he usually wishes you a good day, says you’re beautiful inside and out and sends a few tiktok videos that he curated for you to watch as you get ready in the morning. You find it adorable, and he never gets tired of making you feel special.

Ziggy also really supports your dreams, and when you told him you’d like to start creating YouTube content, he was overjoyed at the possibility of helping out his beloved girlfriend. He taught you how to set up lights, which microphone you should get, how to write your titles to make more people click on your videos. The editing is on him, you didn’t even have to ask. He got his followers on HiHat to support your channel as well, so you kick-started with a small faithful audience. Whenever you are out in a nice restaurant or something like that, he’s eager to take your pictures - and he’s actually very good at it! He directs you really well and always gets your best angle (“Not that it’s hard, any photo is going to be perfect when the main focus is this beautiful!”).

[robertsbarbie]

officially sold off one of my two fall out boy tickets and i’m trying to be really brave and not sad about it

[fingertipsmp3]

Reading an actual published book that is really, confidently bad gives me more confidence in my writing than just about anything actually

[cherry-leclerc]

the set up ☆ ln4

genre: fluff, humor, parent trip vibes from oscahhh, strangers to lovers (bc of course it is), uni!reader

word count: 2.12k

Caught up in work, you find time to join your friends at the McLaren welcome dinner; meeting a certain British driver along the way. Whom you don't make the best first impression with.

req!...oscar+lily playing matchmakers? cute cute cuteeee. quick one for my lando lovers mwahhh

It takes a lot to convince you; like—a lot. Partial credit is due to your pride, but honestly, it drove your friends mad. 

Let's go out and celebrate! Just a good ‘ol round of drinks. I have to study. Maybe next time.

Oh! I heard of this new place down the street where you custom make your own jewelry. Fun, no? I have enough already, thank you.

Five minutes—let’s just go grab coffee! Too tired. Go on without me.

“It’s my welcome dinner, mate. You can’t do this to me now.” Oscar’s brown eyes flicker between you and his girlfriend, to which she apologetically shrugs. Deep down, it's like she can forehear your excuse. An essay is due, your internship, helping out at your local library. There's been too many times where you’ve flaked, and they were starting to worry. The pile of clothes makes her wince as you greedily type away. 

“I-I’m sorry, but I have to—”

“Reckon you don’t have anything on your agenda that is as important as you make it out to seem,” he hums. Narrowed eyes burn down, flipping your screen towards him.

 Compile a series of current events…BLAH BLAH BLAH. He stops caring, already bored.

“I wish I could—seriously, Oscar—but I’m needed elsewhere.” A beat. “Lily will keep me updated! Go Mango!”

The Australian rolls his eyes, sharp brows expanding with desperation. “Papaya, mate, papaya.” You giggle, mimically apologizing. The clicks continue; round eyes laser focused. He tries getting your attention once more, but you don’t look up at him at all. The driver’s girlfriend purses her pink lips, crossing her legs gingerly against the couch.

“I can help you write your paper. All of it. Just please, come with us.” Blue eyes wink back as you come to a halt, temptation swirling. “We’re your friends and we want you there. Pretty please?”

The McLaren rookie thinks it has to do with his girlfriend's cute pout, but that is so far from it. It was well known that Lily Zneimer had a wicked talent for conducting a killer research essay. From her resources, to her dialogue. It’s astonishing how smoothly it gets done too. With her, it’s a guaranteed pass. Now that was what you needed. 

Berry lips twist back and forth for a second before stretching out. “Touch up on globalization effects in different cultures and we have ourselves a deal.”

-

The paper was coming along so perfectly that you almost wanted to cry. Your eyes buzz with excitement as you jot down a row of bullet points, conversing with Lily before settling on what to write. 

“This is not what I had in mind when you both made this stupid pact,” Oscar groans for the millionth time as he passes by, spotting you and his girlfriend crouched down on a table; computer, notebook, pencils, index cards, books—everything—in hand.  

“Mate, this is worth half of my grade,” you shriek, jotting a few more possible ideas. Finally, your dazy orbs connect back onto him. “As in fifty percent.” You gag. “Do you realize how terrifying that is?”

Lily shoos him. “We’re almost done anyway, darling. Go enjoy the party.” The Australian’s jaw drops and she huffs, raising her neat brows. “Go, go, goooo.”

Despite his girlfriend and his best friend ignoring him, he has a splendid time. He curses beneath his breath when a large hand sprawls against his back. Lando laughs. “Don’t worry, my date ditched me too,” he teases, blue eyes sparkling against the fuzzy lights. The rookie sighs plainly.

“I wasn’t ditched—'' He angles his head to face back to where you and the dirty blond hunch over, whispering, attention drawn onto the bright screen. A few people even go as far as to try and take a peek, probably thinking you were working on anything McLaren. “Yeah, uh, I guess you could say I was ditched.”

His teammate rubs his watch a couple or times, nothing but music lingering between them. No one really speaks up until Lily delicately makes her way. Oscar tilts his head politely. “Done?”

“No quite yet, but she has it all under control.” She faces the British driver with a sheepish line formed between her pink lips. “Hello, you must be Oscar’s new teammate.” A beat. “I’m Lily.”

“Lando,” he can feel himself proclaiming. “I thought she was Lily…” A lousy fingers points over to you. They both let out a weak chuckle. That’s my friend from back home, Oscar confirms. Her and Lily are super close, too. She beams, light blush feathering her full cheeks.

All of a sudden—the Australian sparks up. “Come, let me introduce you two.”

The twenty-four doesn't really have anything better to do; business convos that have him apologizing profusely, cameras being shoved straight into his face, girls who never get the hint. “Sure.” 

First thing he notices is the faded scar that hugs the bridge of your nose. It's almost completely gone—and he really shouldn’t even be able to spot it—but it's there, almost a glassy color that shines back at him. He notices how quick you are at typing, fingers flying at a constant speed. He’s impressed. Or the way you barely spare him a glance. 

“Don’t be rude, he’s talking to you,” Oscar hisses as he and Lily tower over you like a strict parent duo. You can distinguish the panic that laces through her when you didn’t first respond, too worried at making a bad impression, even if it wasn't her leaving it behind. 

“Of course, I…um, I’m sorry—shit!” The laptop blinks back at you as a warning before settling in its death. A groan slips by, hands pressing harshly against the keys, then the screen. Nervously, you look up at Lily, biting your bottom lip. “What do I do? What should I do? What should I do?”

“Charge it when we get back,” Oscar advises, still waiting for you to greet the older McLaren driver. Lando stands back amused. “As I was saying—”

“It’s due at midnight, dimwit!” It’s eleven-fifteen. “I need to find a charger.”

“O-okay, lets just all calm down.” Lily turns to her boyfriend. “You always carry one with you, let her borrow it.” He winces. Only during races, sweetheart, not an important event. She rubs her temples, curly hair running against the wind. “Let’s just calm down!” she screeches.

“Not helping,��� you wail. “That’s it—I’m leaving.”

Oscar is quick on his feet, already tugging you to stay firm. “We haven't even gotten to the speech!” A familiar fire rushes through your orbs, burning him along the way. I don’t give a shit about that right now! I need to turn this in. 

“I’m sure Charlotte has one,” a friendly voice slides in, leaving you three to turn and face it. Lando awkwardly shrugs. “She’s really well organized, you know her. I’ll be right back.”

“Can I go with you?”

Blue eyes shift over, surprised to hear you speak. Anxiously, you bounce up and down against your heels. He gulps. “Of course.” He turns back to the Australian, who is busy comforting his girlfriend as if it was her grade on the line. “I’ll be right back.”

There’s a sort of tension that hangs steadily—or maybe he’s the only one who thinks so—but he tries his best to push past it. Of course, he was right, and Charlotte did have an extra charger, so that’s quite nice. As if this were the one and only resource of water in a hot desert night, you immediately take it from him, plugging it fiercely.

“You don’t know how grateful I am. You’re an absolute angel.” You’re quick to pick up where you left off. If you try hard enough, you can remember exactly what you need in order to have it done in a few minutes. 

“Glad I could help.”

He should probably leave, he thinks. He’s done all he could, but he doesn’t. Instead, he takes a seat across from you, contently closing his eyes as the sound of your keys brings him to a deep sleep. The sound of a computer shutting gently is what nudges him awake. You grimace. “I’m sorry, I should’ve been more quiet.”

Lando scrunches his eyes, rubs them for a couple of minutes. “It’s alright. You done?”

“Yes. Just in time—you really saved my ass, thank you again.”

A large hand waves you off, reclining against his comfortable spot. “You’re pretty dedicated to your work,” he mutters.

“I sort of have to be if I want to graduate on time and on top of my game. All those sleepless nights couldn’t have been for nothing.”

“Well, I don’t really know you that well…but I hope you pass,” he says. “Lando, by the way—you were probably too busy to catch it the first time.” He cocks his head to the side, a cheesy grin playing out. “And the second, as well.”

You giggle, shaking his humid hand. You don’t even seem to mind. “Third times a charm, no?”

“It appears it is.”

-

The objective was quite clear. Get you to leave your rotting bed. It was astounding how long you could go without getting up. You always blame it on the fact that—I’m finally done with my most important courses and I can sleep all I want—and—I never wake you up, now do I?

So, naturally, when they march into your room, flashing a phone—you curl a full brow. “What am I looking at?”

Oscar smiles. “Save his number. Right now.”

Lando Norris—winks back at you, digits causing a migraine to stir. You huff, reaching out for the blankets once again. “And why would I do that?”

Lily hums. “I tried to stop him, I really did.”

Beady eyes peek demandingly. “What are you talking about?”

“It’s really just one date—”

“What?”

“And if it doesn’t work out—”

You sit up straight and agitated. “What?”

“—then you won’t ever have to see him again?” The Australian flinches at your cold stare. “He thinks this was your idea…because I told him it was, but…” He winces harder. “Don’t make me look bad and please go!”

Lily squeals when you fling up, hunting him down your flat. “I am going to kill you!”

-

The Brit beams sweetly at you, pinching his hand a couple of times to pump his circulation that was suddenly lacking. “I’m a bit surprised you wanted to see—”

“This was all Oscar’s idea.” He blinks and you purse your lips. “I’m sorry for dragging you into this. I think he does it because the third-wheel act is starting to get to him. Asshole,” you hiss at the thought of the rookie.

Lando coughs, playing with his bracelets. “You’re not dragging me into anything. I want to be here.” Now it’s your turn to stare back at him, caught off guard. He chuckles. “I take it you haven’t gone on a proper date in a while?”

“Is it that obvious?”

“Nah,” he yawns. “Oscar told me.”

Pounding your fist against the table, you yelp. “That little—he wants to ruin my life, I see.” You force a tight smile. “I’ve been busy with work…and…I’m—” A flash goes off from somewhere far away and you flinch. “A total catch. Like—total.”

Blue eyes flicker to the careful watchers surrounding the restaurant. “I don’t doubt that.”

“Good,” you respond, finally allowing yourself to rest easy. You raise a sharp brow. “Don’t you get tired of this?”

A few murmurs dance across the room, blinding lights continue. He sighs apologetically. “Right now I am. Let’s get out of here?”

You blush. “The bill…”

“My friend owns the place. I’ll pay him later.” He grabs your hand. “Let's go.”

The moment you slip into his car, panic rises fast. “I don’t hook up on first dates,” you spit out. “It’s not in my nature, I-I-I would rather get to know the person—”

“Then let’s get to know one another. I wasn’t looking for anything like…that,” he whispers, timidly. His blue eyes burn against yours. “I only wanted the chance to get to know you now that you don’t have your nose pressed up against a screen.”

A kind smile. “Okay.”

The more you two converse inside his crowded vehicle, the more you find yourself giggling against the rich seat. “You’re quite the charmer, Mr. Norris.”

“Thank God,” he jokes. “It’s working.”

Another giggle erupts when you nod. You’re sure that you're flustered, burning bright red from all his pick up lines, but you don’t have the strength to look away. “I’m glad we got the chance to talk. For real this time,” you add, sheepishly. 

“So am I.” 

And something inside of him tells him this isn’t the last.

taglist: @blueflorals @starmanv @coolio2195 @lovrsm @weekendlusting@chanshintien @brune77e @myownwritings @timmychalametsstuff @milasexutoire@alesainz @c-losur3 @darleneslane @togazzo @urfavnoirette @namgification @lpab @d3kstar @anniee-mr @nebarious

[traveler-at-heart]

Come running back to me

Request by @esposadejoyhuerta - babe, I tried, but angst evades me.

Summary: Wanda cheats on you and Natasha is there to help you heal.

Wanda Maximoff x F!R, Natasha Romanoff x F!R

A/N: Reader has Magneto like powers.

There’s something in the air that makes you restless as you walk down the streets. It’s too calm for an autumn afternoon in London.

“Blonde suits you” you say as you stop at a corner. There’s a chuckle behind you.

“Though I’d fool you” Natasha says, coming out of the shadows and standing next to you.

“I’m not easily fooled. It’s nice to see you”

“Likewise” the woman nods.

It’s been almost two years since part of the Avengers have been on the run. Your abilities have made you an especially important target, so you spend most of the time hiding on your own. Divide and conquer.

“And how are things?” you say. It’s been a month since you spoke with Wanda, and you don’t know if Natasha knows.

“Great. They’re about to get even better” she sighs. “If you don’t mind, we need to borrow Wanda. Could use your help as well”

“Wait, what? Wanda is not with me” you look at Natasha, alarmed.

“She left two days ago… the same she always does when she meets you”

“Did she say where…?” Natasha shakes her head no and you feel like throwing up. You can’t lose her, not now.

“Steve” the woman calls through her burner, but is interrupted. “Understood, we’re on our way” Natasha turns to you. “Come on, we have a lead”

—

The joy of reuniting with Steve is short lived, because your mind is reeling with the possibilities of what could have happened to Wanda.

Was she captured by the US? Did HYDRA find her? You’re not sure which one of those is worse.

You also think back to your last conversation. How you offered her to stay together, have your own place away from everything… a future in the middle of uncertainty.

Guilt invaded your mind. What if she was overwhelmed by your proposal and left to think things through?

“We have an alien aircraft and four subjects” Sam informs. The four of you descend from the Quinjet, Natasha holding on to you. You set her down gently, and you both jump right in to fight the aliens.

Wanda looks at you with relief, and then a flash of panic crosses her features.

As you spot a cut in her forehead, your patience runs out, and you use the alien’s own blade to cut its head off. The weapon floats in the air as you manipulate it with your powers, sending it across the train station to knock down another alien that Natasha was fighting.

There’s an exchange between your friends and the creatures, but you’re too busy walking to Wanda.

She’s not alone. Vision is holding on to her hand, looking up at her as if…

No, that can’t be.

“Y/N” Wanda pleads when everything clicks for you.

Wanda and Vision, together. For how long, who knows, but long enough for her to leave you behind without a word. She risked getting caught just to see him, all the while you were the one putting your neck on the line to make sure she was safe.

“Please” she sighs when you step back.

“Don’t” you shake your head, going around the corner to hide yourself from the team. Leaning against a wall, you pinch the bridge of your nose, holding back tears. The feeling of betrayal burns your throat as a sob escapes from your mouth. You try to stiffle it, breathing to calm yourself down.

A hand rests on your shoulder, and you don’t need to open your eyes to know who it is.

“I’m sorry” Natasha says, wiping away another tear that rolls down your face. “I’m really sorry, Y/N”

“I can find my way back from here” you say after a beat of silence. You won’t spend another moment with Wanda.

“Well, that’s not gonna work” Steve says, joining you. There’s compassion in his eyes, but also a sense of urgency. “New York has been targeted as well. Time to assemble”

—

The trip to Wakanda will take at least 6 hours. This aircraft is smaller and slower than the Avengers’ Quinjet. You understand they’ve had to lay low and make the best of the resources they can find.

This also means you’re left with fewer places to hide from Wanda.

You go to the back of the jet, sitting on the floor. It’s cold and uncomfortable, but you don’t care. The silence is defeaning, Steve coordinating with Natasha in a low voice, Wanda reassuring Vision while you refuse to look her way.

“We’re almost there” Natasha says after a few hours.

“I can tell” you nod, stretching.

“How?”

“The vibranium. I feel it. It’s a little overwhelming”

“How so?”

“I’m used to sensing different materials that can be manipulated by my powers. They’re everywhere. But vibranium is so rare so it’s not part of my… filter. I’m just not used to its presence”

“Is it uncomfortable?” Natasha says with a frown and you shake your head. She nods, placing her hand on your shoulder.

As you watch her walk back to the copilot seat, your eyes meet Wanda’s. You look away, swallowing to keep the tears at bay.

Once you arrive, the team meets, reaching out to everyone that can join the impending battle. You barely register the conversation, looking out the window. It’s a nice view.

There’s talk about how to destroy the Mind Stone while keeping Vision alive.

“You should destroy it while we still can” he asks Wanda.

“But you’ll die”

Good.

There’s a gasp and you turn around, looking at Wanda. Natasha stares too, confused, which confirms that You didn’t say it out loud, only thought about it.

“That’s too much, even for you” Wanda says.

“Get the fuck out of my head, then. If you want warm and fuzzy thoughts, maybe don’t cheat on me, Wanda”

The silence hangs in the room, and you leave, knowing your presence is only making it worse for everyone. Steve asked you to come and fight, not put on a show.

You stand at the first line of defense, next to Natasha, Steve and Bucky. As soon as the alien aircrafts show up, you bring them down, or make them crash against each other.

Once Thor joins the fight and takes over, you direct your attention to hand to hand combat. Using their own weapons against them, you keep the aliens at bay, clearing the path for Natasha and Steve.

“I’ve had enough of you” one of the aliens you saw in Edinburgh jumps, and they’re too quick, punching you and throwing you across the field, leaving you out of breath. That and the exhaustion from using your powers for such an intense fight make you dizzy, and you’re not sure you’ll be able to stand up in time.

Red wisps of magic throw the alien against a machine, killing them instantly.

“Are you ok?” Wanda runs to your side. Up until now, she had stayed next to Vision.

“I’m fine” you lie. She’s about to argue with you when everything goes quiet.

Thanos, you hear someone whisper, and you immediately turn around. A chill runs down your spine as a gigantic figure shows up in the middle of the battlefield.

“I’m too tired to fly all the way there. Throw me and then get back to the stone”

“You’re too weak” she protests.

“Just do it”

Wanda listens and you join Thor, Steve close behind. You close your hands in fists, so Thano’s armour closes around his own body, crushing him. As Thor wields his axe, you pull away the gauntlet, throwing it to T’Challa. He carries it, putting distance between it and Thanos.

The creature let’s out a groan, throwing you against a tree while Thor pushes the axe against his neck. His arms shake with the force he is exerting, but it’s not enough.

Reaching forward, you use your powers to push down, moving the weapon further down his neck. You begin to see black spots, exhausted from the physical exhertion.

Thankfully, Steve shows up, delivering a final blow that separates Thanos’ head from his body.

You’re too tense to let go, fearing he’ll be able to grow a second head. It’s only until Natasha runs to your side that you drop the headless body.

Out of breath, you fall to your knees, trying to stop shaking.

“Are you ok?” Natasha asks, inspecting every inch of your body.

“Fine” you mutter. Then, you bend over and throw up blood. “Ok, maybe not”

—

Shuri is next to your bed, checking your vitals. She’s been making her rounds between Vision and you. It seems like she’ll be able to separate the stone from the droid.

“How is she?” Natasha asks, looking at you. It’s been 12 hours since you passed out.

“She’s stable. Her body needs to recover. It was overexhertion from exceptional use of her power, there are no other injuries. But I am told she can heal faster than a regular person, so…”

“Yeah” Natasha nods, sighing. “She’s strong. I’m just worried”

“It will be fine, agent. The price of saving the universe”

You wake up the next night, in a dark room lit only by the monitor that keeps your vitals visible. You feel weak and thirsty, but you also know you have the get out of here.

Leaving the room behind, you walk out of the building when a voice stops you.

“You’re up” Wanda says and goes after you when you keep walking. “Wait, what are you doing? You can’t leave”

“I can’t stay here. I’m an outlaw”

“I’m sure that will change now that you’ve saved the universe. Come on. You need your rest” Wanda takes your arm and you yank it away, as if her touch burns.

“Don’t act like you’re concerned for me. You don’t care about me at all, Wanda”

“That’s not true…”

“How long?” you finally turn to her, and hold her stare as a tear rolls down her cheek.

“Six months”

You nod, feeling like you might throw up again for a very different reason.

“Hope you’re very happy with him. Goodbye”

“No, wait! I didn’t mean for it to happen… I didn’t want to hurt you”

“And yet here we are” you mumble, wiping away the tears that run down your face. “Go be with him. We’re done here”

You use the little strenght you have to turn invisible, hoping that will be enough to stop her from following you.

Still, Wanda stays glued to her spot, sobbing quietly.

“Is Y/N ok?” Natasha rushes to your room. “Where is she?”

“She’s gone”

“Why did you let her leave? She’s too weak to do anything”

“I couldn’t stop her”

“I wonder why that is” Natasha bites back and Wanda glares at her.

“Don’t talk to me like that, Natasha, you have no idea…”

“I do, actually. She risked her life to keep the government away from us. She was alone for two years while we protected you, Wanda. You’re the one that screwed up here and it’s on you if something happens to her” Natasha says in an even tone, as if she’s bored with Wanda’s childish complaints. “Your precious robot is ready. Go be with him. The rest of us will clean after your mess”

It’s been a month.

You’re in Norway, in the middle of nowhere. No internet, radio or phone. You’re clueless about what happened after the Battle of Wakanda and honestly, couldn’t care less. 

All you do is go around the forest, think about Wanda and hate her.

You miss her terribly, but it’s not like the other times, when you were apart, knowing you’d see her again. There’s no reunion or anticipation to hold her in your arms again. To hear her laugh and feel her lips on yours.

That part of your life is done for good. There’s nothing left.

The rain starts in the middle of your run, so you create a force field to shield you from the drops. As you approach the trailer, you notice the door is ajar.

Alerted, you go inside, ready to attack.

Natasha is fast asleep in your bed.

“Hey” you nudge her with your foot and she grumbles.

“You took forever” 

“Well, there’s nothing else to do around here so I’m usually gone for hours” you explain. “Wanna go for a swim?”

“The water is freezing, are you insane? Oh, never mind, you are!” she punches your arm and you laugh.

“What are you on about, Romanoff?”

“You left Wakanda half dead. And for a moment I thought you were, it took me forever to find you” 

“How did you find me?” you wonder, taking off your wet sneakers, leaning against the wall while Natasha sits up, crossing her legs. 

“McDonald’s security camera”

“I do love me some fries” you sigh. “So, what are you doing here?”

“Just checking to see if you’re ok”

“I’m alive” you shrug your shoulders. “That’s about it”

Natasha stares for a little too long, and you fidget under the intensity of her green eyes. You know what she means, but you refuse to mention Wanda or your break up.

“Come home with me” she pleads, her voice soft. You’re surprised at her vulnerability. 

“I can’t stand to watch her with that toaster every single day”

“They’re not in New York” 

“Where are they, then?”

“Does it matter?” she challenges you. Of course, it doesn’t. It’s not your business. Not anymore. You sit next to her, bringing your knees to your chest.

“I was barely an Avenger, and the Compound… I don’t know, Nat. I don’t feel like I belong anywhere anymore. Especially in places where we were together”

“Who said anything about the Compound? I’m in my thirties, I figured having a bunch of roommates was too much. I’m living in my own place now. And looking for someone to split the rent with, since I have very good taste and it’s in an expensive area” 

“I thought roommates were too much for you” you say with a smile.

“Multiple, yes. One, I can handle” 

You sigh, looking around you. You’ve been miserable and bored out of your mind. At some point, you’ll have to live again. And if you’re gonna hate life, might as well do it in a city where you can get decent food.

“Ok” you nod, smiling when she extends her hand to seal the deal.

“You better not leave wet towels in the bathroom floor” she warns you.

—

“You lied to me” you grumble, giving the wall a second coat of paint. Natasha ignores you and you glare. “You just wanted someone who’d help you paint the place for free”

“Absolutely not!” Natasha shakes her head no. 

Except, maybe she left out how the apartment needed some work and there was nothing on it except the walls. You’re being annoying, but you actually don’t mind. This is the first time in your life where you get to decide how to live. It also helps to get your mind of everything that happened in the last month. When you’re assembling furniture and arguing over color palettes, heartbreak is not at the forefront of your mind.

You have not settled on a couch, so you’re still using the one you got from the Compound. Natasha insists that it doesn’t have to be anything too expensive, but you keep saying a good living room is the soul of any great apartment.

“It’s not like we’re having a lot of people coming over, we’re both loners”

“All the more reason to get a nice couch. We watch movies every night in the living room” 

“I’m picking the movie tonight, by the way”

“You already had your chance” you mumble. “Those privileges have been revoked for the rest of the week”

You had to sleep with the lights on after a marathon of all those Insidious movies she likes so much.

But still, you let her choose the movie because it’s nice and there’s no point in fighting with the one person who’s going out of her way to keep you company in your misery. After the movie’s done, she stands up, stretching her arms. 

“I’m calling it a night”

“Ok” you smile, taking over the entire couch and covering yourself with the blanket. Natasha stares. “What?”

“You’ve been sleeping in the living room. Don’t say it’s because of the movie, it’s been happening since you got here, Y/N”

“I… uh” you scratch the back of your neck nervously. “My room feels… lonely. Here I can listen to the sounds of the street. And sometimes when you go to the kitchen I hear your footsteps and feel less… horrible. It’s stupid”

“It’s not” she shakes her head. “We’ll get a new couch tomorrow” 

“Alright”

“Good night, Y/N”

“Night, Nat”

—

People walk past you and you ignore them as you sit, Natasha to your right. 

“Pass the popcorn” you say and she pretends to grab something from the air, handing it over to you. “I’m not feeling it” 

“It’s a nice couch” Natasha protests, trying to be patient. She has a feeling the couch is a metaphor for your love life, but you’re being impossible in your shopping trip.

“It’s not the couch” you insist, pulling her up and walking around the shop. You mumble a number of things as you inspect different furniture. The color isn’t right, it’s itchy, it’s too small.

“We’re getting close, I can feel it” you promise, walking backwards to look at Nat.

“Watch where you’re going…”

Too late, as you trip over and fall on your back. You yelp, landing on a cream colored sofa that feels perfect.

“Are you ok?” Natasha hurries over and you laugh, pulling her towards you by the hand. It’s big enough to fit the both of you when you lie down on your side. “Wow, this is great” 

“Right?” you snuggle next to her, sighing. “We found it, Nat” 

“Yeah, we did” she smiles. “Let’s take it home” 

You celebrate, hugging her until a store clerk comes by and ask if you need help. Natasha blushes as she breaks apart, confirming you’re buying it. Her hand never leaves your back as she speaks to the clerk. 

“We should celebrate” you say as you leave the store, not dwelling too much on why buying furniture makes you so damn happy.

“I’d love to, but I have a mission” Natasha sighs.

“Oh. I understand” 

The universe might have been in danger, but the world -and the bad guys- certainly didn’t stop. The Avengers were still operating, albeit with more freedom than before.

“We’ll do something when I’m back” she promises and you nod. 

You can handle a day alone, right?

The apartment feels empty without her and you can’t help but think about the past few months. You isolated yourself, then Natasha brought you back to the city, where you focused on fixing your apartment. 

Sooner or later, you’d have to face the reality of your situation. 

Wanda wasn’t part of your life or future anymore. Sitting around doing nothing was not an option in the long run.

Which is why you show up at the Compound first thing in the morning, knocking on Steve’s door. 

“Natasha won’t be back until later today” he says as you sit in front of him. 

“I know. I wanted to talk to you about… coming back to the team” 

“We’d love to have you, Y/N. Your skills are incredibly helpful on the field, and we’ve all seen that you’re very loyal. I know how much you risked to protect us as we were on the run” 

“I feel a but coming” you say and Steve laughs.

“I just want to make sure you’re doing it for the right reasons. Because you want to, not because you feel like there’s no other place to go to”

“I think I can be useful, in a way only few people can. I mean, what am I going to do with magnetism manipulation? Work as a barista?”

“Fair enough” he nods, leaning forward. “Welcome back” 

You have the presence of mind to ask him to hold off on telling Natasha, because you want to let her know yourself. It may be silly, but you make dinner and get her favorite wine as you wait for her to be back from the mission.

“What smells so good?” she greets, closing the door behind her. She’s out of her work clothes, wearing jeans, a simple white tee and leather jacket.

“I made chicken alfredo” you say, moving the pasta around as you turn off the stove.

“Smells delicious” she looks over your shoulder, placing her hand on your lower back as she reaches for two plates and wine glasses.

During dinner, you listen to Natasha talk about the mission and how Sam and Bucky can’t get along even after everything they’ve been through. 

“I’m telling Steve to keep his boyfriends under control”

“Speaking of… Steve” you put your fork down, nervous all of the sudden. “I’m rejoining the Avengers”

Natasha chews for a moment, sips from her glass and wipes the corner of her mouth. Once she’s done, she sighs, looking up.

“I’m gonna kill him”

“What? Who?”

“Steve! This is low, even for him. This is why I didn’t want to leave for a mission just yet. I suspected he’d find a way to guilt you into thinking you owe the world something”

“Wait, no. That’s not what happened. Nat, listen to me” you plead, reaching for her hand and forcing her to sit down. “I went to see him this morning. Maybe I’m just… done with moping around and doing nothing. I can’t go like this forever. Plus, we’d get to go on missions together, right? Or maybe not, you’ll get sick of me, we already share an apartment”

Natasha calls for you, the way she says your name full of care and gentleness.

“Is this what you want?”

“Yes” you say, still holding her hand.

“Then I’m happy” she nods, smiling as she raises her glass.

—

Life is gentle, if only because you let yourself be. A routine develops, with training, missions, dinner and movies. Sometimes you go out, sometimes you cook for Natasha. 

The constant is each other’s presence. And whenever she has to be away on a solo mission, you find comfort in the things she leaves behind, like her clothes. She doesn’t question anything the first time she comes back home and finds you napping in the couch, wearing one of her hoodies.

Natasha has also accepted every bouquet, commenting that it will look beautiful in the kitchen table. She’s right, but that’s not why you buy them; it’s because you’re enamored by her smile as she inspects each flower. 

Home takes on a different meaning. It’s not just the apartment you share, it’s the mornings when Natasha comes back from her run with your favorite muffins; the days you find your favorite cookies in a grocery bag and those times when Nat insists on cleaning after eating whatever it is you prepared and she listens to you talk about your day as she washes dishes.

One day, as Natasha comes back from training new recruits, you greet her at the door. Her smile is gentle, but distant. 

“I was wondering if… you’d like to go out tonight?” you ask, sensing this isn’t the best time but you also know you’ll chicken out if you don’t do it now. 

“I’m kinda tired. I’ll probably take a shower and call it a night”

“Oh, yeah” you nod, fidgeting with your hands.

“I’m sorry. It’s been a weird day. My mind’s a mess” Natasha steps forward, reaching for your hand.

“It doesn’t have to be today. What I meant was… would you like to go on a date with me?” you finally look up, trying to decipher her expression.

Natasha smiles and you sigh with relief.

“How about tomorrow?”

“Sounds perfect”

That’s exactly how the evening goes. You’ve shared so many nights together, but there’s something different in the air. It’s electric and it makes your head spin, craving more each time her hand touches yours.

“Next one is on me” she promises when you insist on paying for dinner. You lean against her, until her arm goes around your shoulders.

“So, there’s gonna be a next one?” 

“I’d like that, yes” Natasha nod and you blush, practically hiding in her arms. She laughs, kissing your temple. The walk home is quiet, but not in an uncomfortable way.

Inevitably, your mind goes to your previous relationship. Truth be told, most of the time you spent with Wanda was brief and under difficult circumstances. There were never dates or any semblance of a normal life. There’s no way of knowing if you’d had worked out together. But, for the first time in six months, it doesn’t hurt to think about what you lost.

You can’t imagine your life without Natasha.

“One episode, that’s all” you argue playfully as you go up the stairs, hoping Natasha wants to watch the show you were binging the other day.

“We have an early morning tomorrow” 

“I’ll make it worth your time…” you say, laughing.

“Y/N” a different voice calls from the end of the hallway. You look back, your eyes meeting Wanda’s. Natasha doesn’t seem as surprised.

“Wanda, what are you doing here?”

“I came back a few days ago…” the girl turns to Natasha, upset. “You didn’t tell her I was here”

“I was hoping you’d leave her alone” Natasha admits, avoiding your eyes.

“Is that really the only reason?” Wanda looks intently at the way you’re holding Natasha’s hand.

“What is that supposed to mean?” Natasha steps forward, but you pull her back.

“It’s not worth it, Nat”

“Y/N, I just need five minutes. Alone” Wanda asks, focusing entirely on you. You can tell that Natasha feels defeated as you nod, but still goes inside without another word, the door closing behind her.

“Five minutes” you say, crossing your arms. You miss Natasha’s warmth as soon as she leaves.

“I came back to say I’m sorry. To say that I think I made a mistake”

“You hurt me. I think that was a mistake, yes. Is that all?”

“These past few months I… I have tried to convince myself that what I did was not so bad, or that it was meant to be between Vision and me. But lately, I’ve wondered if it wasn’t only the stone. The connection was so strong between us, but now that the Mind stone is gone…”

“Now you’re bored and coming back to me” 

“It’s not like that” 

“Whatever it is, I’m not interested, Wanda. I’ve moved on, worked on myself. Found someone who makes me happier than I’ve ever been. I’m sorry, truly, that things didn’t turn out the way you wanted. But coming back to me is not an option. That door is closed for good” 

“Of course” she sighs, a tear rolling down her cheek. “I’m sorry for interrupting your date, I’ll leave now”

“Wanda” you call as she walks down the hall. “I really hope you can find happiness again”

With that, you walk into your apartment. 

“Can we talk?” you say, approaching Nat. She smiles sadly.

“Look, I understand. Wanda’s the one. I’m sorry I didn’t tell you she was here… I guess I just wanted to be a little selfish and have one date with you”

You sigh, sitting down next to her.

“She’s gone now. I’m not… whatever it is I felt for her, it’s over now, Nat. I’m sorry if I made you feel insecure” you place your finger under her chin, making her look up. “I like that you sing while you wash the dishes. I know your favorite flowers are tulips. I’d watch twenty horror movies just to see you smile” she chuckles at that, reaching for your hand. “I’d do anything to give you a fraction of the happiness you’ve given me, Natasha”

“It’s hard to believe, that’s all. I’ve never been easy to love” 

“And yet, it’s the only thing that’s kept me going for this long. Your love. Will you let me pay it back?”

“Yes” she nods, her nose rubbing against yours as you lean forward, kissing her gently at first, and then pushing her until she’s laying on the couch. She pulls you closer, eager for more. 

“I did say I’d make it worth your time” 

You laugh against Natasha’s lips, feeling how she’s smiling into the kiss.

“Lucky for us, we have the best couch in all of New York City, and all the time in the world”

“Yes, we do” you confirm, kissing her until you’re both out of breath. “And we have each other”

“That too” Natasha nods, her hand on your cheek.

And you’d have each other, in the home you built.

[onelittlespiral]

Hey dude, I'm just a lil bro looking for a big bro to take care of me in all sorts of ways but all I'm stuck with is my lousy nerd of a roommate. Could you help me out?

FML: Fraternize

My roommate was… chill all things considered. I don’t know, he was just the random guy that I got stuck with when all my bros decided to move into the house and I needed someone to take the lease with. Scruffy, for sure. A bit out of shape. He said he used to play soccer in high school. Cute, but that was about it. Nowadays he was just getting his degree in English. Just a guy. But I didn’t want just another guy.

I tried to be friends with the guy, but he always just blew me and my boys off. He would just say he was too busy studying or playing some video game to come out to the gym with us or hang at the frat. I finally decided I was fed up. I needed my roommate to be more than a rando in my house. I needed a bro. And the fraternity had some resources to make that happen.

They usually keep this kinda stuff for pledges who start stepping out of line, but my buddy slipped me the files that they show to help guys get in line. I don’t remember if I ever saw them myself… what ever. It was a series of videos that promised to turn any guy into a bro in no time flat. So, one night, I put the tapes on when my roommate was home:

“Hey man, I’ve gotta watch these for class, mind if I slip them on?”

“No problem, I’ll just hang out in my bedroom.”

“Actually, it may be something you would like. You should stay. Here, you chill here and I’ll listen while I cook. I’ll make enough to split.”

I turned the first tape on and went to cook up some chicken and rice. In the other room, I heard the video beginning. It wasn’t long before I started hearing my roommate responding to the commands:

You are loyal to your bros.

“I am loyal to my bros.”

When you are around them you feel relaxed.

“When I am around them I feel relaxed”

The gym feels like your second home.

“The gym feels like my second home.”

The frat is life. You are made to be loyal to the frat.

“I am made to be loyal to the frat.”

They kept pushing him in the background while I finished cooking some food. When I walked back into the room, static filled the screen as my roommate stared into space, drool dripping from his mouth. I turned of the TV and he seemed to come to his senses.

“Hey, sup bro? Got the fuel?”

Already he was much better, “Yeah man, chicken and rice.”

“Hell yeah, gotta get a good workout in before getting my homework done.”

We ate quickly and started getting ready for the gym.

“Hey, bro, you think they are still taking new pledges? I’ve been meaning to apply to your frat!”

I was shocked at how quick the progress had been, “Yeah man. I’ll hook you up with my peeps tomorrow.”

“Sweet, let me finish getting ready and we can go.”

Dang those videos were quick. Even the way he carried himself was so different. This is the bro I needed.

The week went on and we kept working out. I hooked my roommate up with the pledge master and he quickly started falling in with the bros. We worked out, partied, did almost everything together now. I gave the rest of the tapes back to my guy who gave them to me. He said he needed them for a few guys who had gotten a little hands-y with some girls at the last party. I was fine to get them back, I didn’t think there would be any more issues with my roommate.

The year flew by until it was time for spring break. I had opted to be my roommate’s big and done all the usual hazing and shit with him. Had to keep him on his A game, I wasn’t going to go east on him. The spring break frat trip was a rite of passage for the incoming pledges. As much as I wanted to go, I had plans to visit California with my partner. We were having a great time, chilling at the beach, shopping through souvenir stores, and hiking parks. But I made sure to get updates about how my roommate was enjoying his week. It was from one of these progress reports that I got word from the pledge master:

Hey, bro. Just letting you know. Your little bro was making some girls uncomfortable at the bar. Can’t have that causing issues for the frat.

Shit man. I’m sorry. Lemme talk to him.

Nah dude, it’s good. We have a protocol for these kinds things. Just letting you know so you aren’t surprised. We’ll make sure he won’t bother any girls again.

Thanks dude. Lemme know if you need anything.

Nah bruh, relax. Enjoy your vacay.

Well as long as they have shit handled. I went back to my vacation and forgot about the whole situation. I would give him crap for it when I got back. The rest of our trip was great. I didn’t hear anything more from my bros so I assumed it all went according to plan. I was eager to get back to my roommate and prep him for full brotherhood when I got back. It wasn’t till I walked into the apartment I knew something was awry:

“Sup, bro, welcome back.”

A deep voice echoed from the balcony. He stepped inside and was greeted by a stranger. His arms were as thick as a football, his legs as thick as tree trunks. The smell of sweat, sex, and stale beer followed him into the room. He had a fresh tattoo on his arm with the number 86 boldly displayed. The stranger walked with swagger up to me, like he owned the place. As he approached, his musk only grew more intense. It wasn’t until I noticed the glasses it all clicked into place:

“Bro… is that you?!?”

“Bruh, who else would it be?”

My roommate stood proudly in front of me. He had been going to the gym steadily but no amount of protein powder could explain the progress he had made in a week. He was also easily 3 inches taller. And the smell. I don’t know how to describe it but he smelled… virile. Like just being around him was starting to get me excited. He certainly had never been like this before.

“Looking good, right? Like the new tat? Year of our chapter’s founding, 1986. After all, I am made to be loyal to the frat.”

That line made it all click together. The tapes. They said they would handle the situation, I didn’t know they would use the tapes.

”Speaking of which, dude. I can’t believe you flaked on the frat and went on a trip with your partner. You’ve got to be loyal to your bros.”

His scent, his words, my mind was swimming in a way it hadn’t in a long time. He stepped towards me, grabbing my head. I was pulled into his pit. I tried to pull back but a hand on the back of my head held me firmly in place. I felt so aroused and so scared as I was forced to huff the scent of pure frat bro. I was… fading. I couldn’t… resist… my… my… bruhhhhh.

“I think that you should sit through the next set with me bro.”

My mind was blank as he told me to sit down on the couch. Of course, I would do anything for my frat bro. He put on a video and sat behind me.

“They said we could watch this one together.”

The video whirled to life as my roommate held me in place in his lap. A flash of color and a brief intro played. It explained that it was the last in a series of videos for brothers who were trouble makers in the frat. This last one was the most extreme. I felt a wave of guilt, knowing I had betrayed my brothers and the chapter. I wasn’t sure what I did but I knew it must be bad. My behavior had to change.

You will conform to the standard set by the frat, whatever it takes. You will be entirely dedicated to the brotherhood.

“I will be entirely dedicated to the brotherhood,” we both repeated, in unison.

Good. Since you have proven you can’t be trusted with making good decisions, your brothers have decided to make those for you. You will become the ultimate frat bro.

“I will become the ultimate frat bro.”

Let’s start on the outside. A brother works out daily, at least. Strong muscles make for a strong foundation.

As I repeated the words, they became my reality. I had certainly never been a scrawny guy before, but this was something else. My muscles convulsed all at once, then seemed to shred and burst. My muscles ached as pecs, biceps, abs all were pulled out of my body. I sweat under the effort as legs bloated and toned, bloated and toned. My back stretched out and shoulders mounded on muscle.

Good bro. Now, a brother should be cocky, with a cock to match. All the other fraternities should know how superior we are.

‘Shiiit, no other frat could even come close. We threw the best parties, had the hottest girls and… fuck the hottest guys. With a bod like this, just about no body could resist.’ As those thoughts echoed in my head, there was a sharp pain in my balls as they started to swell. My cock snaked down my shorts, throbbing with newfound power and size. A moan escaped my mouth as my cock swelled thick as a beer can. Anyone would beg for a cock like this.

A frat bro with a cock like that just needs to fuck. Your libido keeps your mind so full that you hardly have time to pass your business classes.

My swollen balls began to churn as my cock came to life. As my mind was thrust into a deep sexual haze, any aspirations I had on my pre-law track were pushed out, draining right to my balls and slowly leaking out my cock. At the same time, I felt my roommate begin to shift behind me. I felt his cock press against the small of my back, throbbing as it was thrust into overdrive. He began slowly humping against my back, and I leaned back against that massive cock. I wanted to help my bro however I could. He wrapped his arms around me and slowly started jacking me off. My mind was in pure bliss as I was kicked into overdrive. His arms felt so warm and strong, and he was pushing all my buttons till I was thrusting into his hands.

The frat is a part of you. You live, breath, and sweat the frat. Everyone who meets you will know exactly what you’re about and submit to you, an alpha bro. You put the reek in Greek.

My mind processed for a second until the smell hit me from behind and I understood. My hormones shifted as sweat poured out. It was hard work being a fraternity brother, and everyone would know that. I worked overtime as the smell of straight frat filled my nostrils. The apartment changed in response, filled with leftover beers, used tank tops, and soaked underwear. Anyone who entered would fall into an immediate haze, the smell of bros clouding their mind. My mind was… so… slow. Just… needed… FUCK.

You will keep it simple, keep it stupid.

“I will keep it simple, keep it stupid.”

My head felt like it was filled with fluff. No thoughts, just instinct.

You will listen to your pledge master, follow all he says.

“I will listen to my pledge master, follow all he says.”

It was so much easier to just trust my bros. Whatever they said went.

You will live for and serve your bros, live for and serve the frat.

“I will live for and serve my bros and the frat.”

I would do anything for my bros. Gotta keep ‘em happy.

The frat is life.

“The frat is life.”

My roommate’s cock was still rock hard behind me. His grip was edging me as moaned for release. I could dedicate my life to men like him.

Thank you for your cooperation. There will be no further issues. Now cum.

And I did. Ropes shot across the floor as all the changes were set in stone. I was just another frat dude, struggling through Business classes and fucking through the night.

And with that the video ended. It took a sec for me to regain my senses. I slowly refocused my eyes and… fuck bruh my head is pounding. Musta partied too hard last night. Shit, I was drooling all over myself, lol. I mean, I’m hot but not that hot. And fuck, I made a mess. Bro, what happened? It’s already late, I’ve got to get ready to go out tonight.

I was going to throw on a polo and some shorts when my roommate put a hand on my shoulder. This man must’ve got a double dose of whatever I got. Bro, he was on another fucking level. He pulled me in tight, cupped my ass in his hands, held my chin, and slid his tongue in my mouth. All at once, my world shifted as the fraternity’s motto rang in my head, I will be entirely dedicated to the brotherhood. An aching in my balls told me that I wasn’t going to make it out tonight. I had my frat bro… no, my big bro right here. And he will take care of his little bro. He pulled down his sweatpants and a thick rod popped out from the waistband. He gently guided me to his cock, the true source of his musk. Our scents mingled as my thoughts were consumed by sex. The salty taste of pre coated my tongue as the tip slid down the back of my throat. My mind faded as the smell of the frat filled my nostrils. I was lost in bliss as my bro started pumping, pumping down my throat. Gone was the nerdy roommate I had:

There was nothing left but frat bro.

[suzukiblu]

WIP excerpt behind the cut; "Tim's free cloning lab". (( chrono || non-chrono ))

“Red Robin’s commitment issues are his own problem, not mine. I’ve got a schedule to keep,” Luthor replies dismissively, then knocks back the last of his hopefully-actually-a-protein-shake-and-not-Bane-venom-or-something and gets to his feet, picking up his tablet again as he does. He does not seem concerned to be alone in a lab full of sharp objects and computers with two only negligibly-restrained Bats. Admittedly Luthor doesn’t tend to seem concerned during literal multiversal apocalypses, but Tim is vaguely insulted on principle. A multiversal apocalypse couldn’t do any worse than uncreate Luthor and everything he’s ever done in his life, after all. He could tank his stock prices and drive up all his insurance rates, and then make him have to live with it. 

A little respect isn’t that much to ask, is it? 

“Wow, called out by the supervillain,” Steph mutters to him under her breath. “The Metropolis supervillain, even.” 

“I do not have commitment issues,” Tim mutters back to her. 

“Yes you do, the issue is you commit yourself to somebody and then become an insane person about them but never actually mention the existence of said commitment to them,” she retorts frankly. 

“I do not–” 

“When did you go for the red and black suit again and how long did you stick with it?” 

“. . . we’re in a supervillain lair in Connecticut, I don’t have to answer that right now.” 

“Oh, so you will later?” 

“So anyway, new supervillain trap, how’s that going for you?” Tim asks Luthor. Steph snorts at him; he ignores her and all her baseless, ridiculous, baseless accusations that are definitely not currently reading him for absolute filth. “All coming together nicely, no tech issues? Because we could troubleshoot those for you while we’re waiting for extraction, no charge.” 

“The chemical breakdown of the necessary stabilizer you missed when you were cleaning out my old labs is laid out in file B-2.13, speaking of ‘troubleshooting’,” Luthor mentions, and Tim . . . pauses. 

“‘Stabilizer’,” he echoes carefully, and then glances around the sunroom lab. The sunroom cloning lab. 

The sunroom. 

Ah. 

That is probably a connection he should've made, like . . . literally instantly, yeah. 

“Oh my god, do you think you can actually convince Red Robin to make you another–wait, why do you even want Red Robin to make you another Superman or whatever, you did it better than he ever did,” Steph says, squinting in bewilderment at Luthor through her mask. Tim’s much more insulted this time, even if it’s objectively true that Kon is objectively–never mind. Luthor just looks dubious. 

“I don’t want another Superman, there are already far too many of those running around and being an issue as it is,” he snorts dismissively, waving her off. “And I’m willing to provide a useful little resource or two, of course, but it’s hardly traditional to have to make my own grandchildren, now is it. Besides, Supernova won’t be as annoyed about it if they come from you. Though I did include some potential design notes for your consideration in the C folder, of course. Streamlined the tactile telekinesis a bit, for starters. It really didn’t come out as effective as intended, unfortunately.” 

“Of course,” Tim echoes, perfectly aware of that one time that Kon took apart every single gun inside the exact city limits of Los Angeles and nothing else without even meaning to, and also that one time last week when he very much did mean to disassemble a bomb immediately after its trigger mechanism had been tripped, and did it so fast that it didn't detonate. 

So as politely as possible, that makes Luthor’s use of the word “effective” slipped in there a little mind-numbingly terrifying to consider. 

More than anything else, though, Tim really hopes that he’s just gone insane and hallucinated all this, because otherwise he’s going to have to write all this down in a report, and Steph will not lie for him about this one. 

Case in point: she is currently laughing her fucking ass off at him.

[chsopnk]

「 ✦ DATES ✦ 」

☆. # SHIP — toji, geto, gojo, choso (separately) x m!reader

☆. # AUTHOR’S NOTE — dates and where the boys would take u. ;; requested.

☆. # WARNINGS — none.

TOJI.

i mean. this man has barely any money and i do not think he’d save up because i don’t think he has the means or nerves to do so

but as much as he’ll act sooo annoyed, i honestly think he’d try his best to do something he knows you’ll like even if it’s on the lower budget side

he doesn’t have the money to take you to a fancy restaurant or anything like that and truth to be told, he doesn’t want to go to to a place like that either

if he really really wants to make a good impression, he’ll ask shiu for a few bucks so he can take you to that one bbq place you like so much but that’s typically too expensive for just some everyday dinner

but if shiu’s not available and he already blew most of the money from the mission a few weeks ago, he will at the very least try to clean up a bit. he’ll make sure to shave real nicely and steal some of shiu’s clothes so he doesn’t have to show up in sweatpants and a tank top. especially after you sent him that cute picture of you in your outfit.

but anyway. so where would he take you?

there are limited options. he’s not above having you pay if you really really want to go somewhere fancy but he will pay for you if it’s something he can pay for (at least for the first date—after that it’s splitting bills all the way, baby)

in my opinion, dates with toji are usually pretty casual

but !! that doesn’t mean they’re bad. they’re honestly pretty cozy and sweet <3

he’ll take you to the movies, to that one ramen place around the corner that’s pretty cheap and tastes good, and a lot of stay-at-home dates !! he’ll even let you pick the movies you guys watch 🥹🥹

GETO.

he’s the type of guy that will show up in a really nice outfit with some flowers and a box of chocolates for you

he’ll have a table for two booked at a sushi restaurant and will pay for everything

of course, this heavily depends on how old he is because teen geto wouldn’t have had the money for it, i don’t think. but we’re talking about adult geto here

but anyway. yes. dates at restaurants are probably his favourite. he will take you to museums if you want him to !!

i think he doesn’t really like dates where you guys can’t talk to each other, so he isn’t really into going to the movies for a date. he’d much rather hear you talk about your day or how you’re doing than staring at some screen

he likes dates with some food, maybe some drinks, a lot of talking, a little bit of making out (🥴)

definitely the type of men that will pick you up at home, link his arms with yours and lead you to his car

a gentleman through and through 🫶🫶🫶

and !! he will throughout the date ask you if you’re enjoying yourself. he’ll ask if you like the food or if you’re having a good time.

and if you ever, ever aren’t enjoying a date, trust that he’ll know. he pays a lot of attention to your expressions + body language, so he’ll definitely have some kind of intuition as to whether or not you’re having a good time. and he’s always up to leave and do something else. he really just wants you to have a good time because he always has a good time when he’s with you, no matter what ‼️‼️🥹

GOJO.

oh boy,,, HERE WE GO 😭😭

now this guy. this guy has basically unlimited resources to take you on dates. bank account? full.

but with satoru, he of course always wants to do special things that are fun for both of you. casual dates are typically just for the times when you’re both too tired and/or exhausted to do anything else

otherwise, it’s amusement parks, trips to other districts in japan, trying every street food stall you can find, eating at expensive restaurants and acting as if you’re a food critic, trips to the beach.

it’s not just a case of money—there’s also his teleporting. which means you guys could be anywhere within mere seconds and back again

there’s no way this man would EVER let you pay for ANYTHING. he also whines like a baby whenever you even just think of paying the bill or anything like that.

definitely thinks paying is his job as your big protective (💀) boyfriend. it’s cute, but sometimes it’s also a little bit annoying when you are trying to do something for him and, while he enjoys it, he also always pouts because he’s like, “noo baby, that’s my job!!! :///”

but. dates with him are pretty much always so so so fun

whatever you want to do, he’s down. wanna cause some trouble? hell yeah! wanna ditch the students because “they’ll be fine” and go on a quick trip to get snacks? definitely! making out in public bathrooms? no problem!

also ‼️ he would 100% get you some kind of flowers or chocolates or sweets from some place you’ve never even heard of because they’re the best ever

CHOSO.

CUTIE CUTIE CUTIE CUTIE

which also means: cute dates ‼️‼️‼️

he doesn’t have a lot of money and also doesn’t know too too much about dating culture so he’ll probably look it up online and tries to find something he thinks you’ll enjoy

and what’s the first idea he finds?

a cute date where he takes you to the park and you eat ice cream together!

he would also pick (!!!!!!) you flowers and pick you up at your house. you’ll walk to the park together hand-in-hand, pick up some ice cream on the way and sit on a bench

you could tell him about all the different kind of flowers and little bugs flying around the park because he thinks they’re cute and he also thinks it’s cute that you know so much about them

lets you put flowers in his hair 🥹🫶🫶

will compliment you so much. no matter what you’re wearing or how your hair looks or anything—he’ll always tell you how beautiful, handsome and pretty you look

oh oh OH but ‼️ making flower crowns with choso in the park? yes. a hundred times YES. he’ll let you teach him and even though his is a little crooked and not completely right, he still tried his best and you better wear it until you both are home again and treasure it forever 😡😡😡

[leog4u]

Game Design and Porn Pt. 1

or, How To Fuck Up The Best Intrinsic Reward Ever

Hi, I'm Leo G, veteran pervert. One time while chatting in a server exclusively made of porn artists, I brought up the game design of a porn game I enjoyed. One of them laughed, saying "Who cares, it's just a porn game?" Being unwell, I never let this go. Since then, I have played many adult games and took each one as serious products made by professionals. Fast forward to today, and the demo for my porn game, Joker's Trip, is nearing completion. I also have some sci-fi erotica you should check out.

So you wanna make a porn game. You heard they make money, and hey what’s more fun than making a video game AND porn? But you don’t know where to begin! Well don’t worry, Leo’s got you covered. We’re gonna walk through the line of thinking you should have when designing your porn game. There's gonna be at least three parts to this, with part 1 focusing on how to reward your player.

Define "porn game" for me, Leo.

There are porn games, and then games with porn in them. A porn game is a game where you won’t last 5 minutes, where everything exists solely to meet and, subsequently, fuck. A game with porn in it is a game where everything exists for the purpose of the game, and also, you fuck. Fate Stay Night, for example, is a VN with a story that just so happens to have some CGs where the protagonist rails Saber, but is mainly about Shirou and the Holy Grail War. Much like how I would call Castlevania a game with horror in it, but not a horror game.

Porn games are a lot like horror games. They both get a bad rap for being cheap to make, appealing to base instincts, and generally being low quality. They're also both not actual genres of games, but genres of content. Think about it, if I asked you what a horror game is, you'd say a game that's scary. But what's the actual game part? The unfortunate answer would most likely be "walking sim," but there are a lot of examples that are FPSes, puzzles, driving sims, platformers, deck builders, the list goes on.

The most common genres of game I see for porn games these days are by far RPG Maker RPGs and VNs. I won’t be talking about VNs because they’re closer to writing than game design, which isn’t a flaw but a feature. What used to be everywhere, in days of old, were breakout games, where the more bricks and levels were cleared, the more of the sexy image would be revealed in the background. Other arcadey type deals like shoot ‘em ups and mahjong were also around, and had a similar “strip ‘em down until you have sex” gameplay loop.

Okay, so what’s an intrinsic reward?

There’s intrinsic rewards, and there're extrinsic rewards. Extrinsic rewards, generally, are the number go up rewards. Things that make your character stronger, or give you more resources to buy new gear or whatever. Intrinsic rewards in games can cover a large swathe of things. It can be the feeling of satisfaction of completing a puzzle, a piece of lore or world building, or a new dialogue option with a character you want to fuck.

I like fucking characters, are we talking about porn now?

Yes! I’m of the opinion that you literally can’t make a better intrinsic reward than pornography. On top of setting the tone for the entirety of the game., at its best it can add to a story, add to someone’s character development, or be a beautiful piece of art to look at. AND you can jack off to it! Unfortunately, that’s at its best. Let’s talk about how porn is delivered in a theoretical RPG porn game. (As a head’s up, there will be talk of “bad end” scenes, but this is under the assumption that the player is the one consenting.)

So you’re playing an RPG and get into a fight. Maybe you were underleveled or too cumbrained to remember to buy healing potions. Then your HP goes to zero, and instead of going back to the title screen, you’re getting fucked by orcs. That’s right, let’s talk about Game Over CGs.

You get to watch porn when you lose?

To someone making a porn game with a battle system, this delivery method makes sense. The characters in this world are driven primarily by lust, this is just the obvious conclusion. And it doesn’t even have to be non-consensual! Games like Future Fragments show that it can be presented as a sexy inconvenience rather than anything uncomfortable for the player or our hero. Game Over CGs even have the benefit of softening the blow of defeat, by giving the player a chance to reflect on their defeat and jerk off. Even better if losing a fight isn’t lost progress, but rather a bump in the road. However, there’s a problem here. The player is a dog, and we’re rewarding bad behavior.

The porn is an intrinsic reward, so why are we giving it to the player for losing? Incentivizing losing on purpose isn’t just bad game design, but a waste of time. And to that end, a lot of porn games try to give solutions to this. One being a kill button on the keyboard or a skill that instantly KOs our hero to get to the lose screen faster. What might seem like a convenience is really just expediting failure.

What it says is that the gameplay doesn’t actually matter. You’re just here for the porn, right? In that case there’s plenty of places I can go to see a chick with huge knockers get railed by an orc, with the added bonus of not having to play forgettable and mid turn based combat!

Another solution I’ve seen is the game outright telling you, “hey don’t bother killing yourself to see the porn. Once you beat the game all of the scenes you missed will be unlocked!” At first this seems like a reasonable way to go about it, but it comes with another problem: your game better be fucking good to make me play through the entire thing before getting to see cock. Like I said earlier, porn at its best can reveal things about the world and drive character development. I uh. Just beat the game. I don’t care anymore. Showing me a scene that’s taken out of context by a factor of 5 hours or more isn’t what I’d call great game design or story telling. It’s also too little, too late.

What if we made the porn actual rewards?

Now we’re getting somewhere! Let’s make the reward…a reward! What if, every time the player beats a level, we get some porn? If we tie the CG to beating the boss, we’ll be tying the reward to game progression. That’s good right? So now, on top of the extrinsic rewards you’d normally get for beating a boss (a lot of EXP, better gear, opened areas) we also get that sweet dopamine rush of pornography! So we’re good, right?

There’s 1142 words left in this post, so I’m assuming no.

Well. It’s a start. It has the problem of predictability. If not handled properly, it comes off as lazy. As a game designer, one of your goals is to not constantly remind your player that they’re playing a video game. Get through the level, get porn. It feels a little too “mouse in a maze looking for cheese” for my taste. And much like the game over method, if the actual game itself is mid, the player will start to question if the reward is worth it, and might be afflicted with the worst condition a player could receive: boredom.

Of course there are exceptions. In puzzle or arcade type games where you don’t get extrinsic rewards, giving the player porn as another form of reward per level or whatever is perfectly reasonable (though it does have the issue of being predictable.) This is a perfectly good way of doing it if your game is short, or if the game is, y’know, good and fun to play. Bad Color’s game, Heroine Conquest, is a level based puzzle game with porn as the reward, but only when you do good. Combining the actual challenge of mastering the game, with a genuinely unique game loop makes for a feeling of accomplishment when beating a level. Pair that up with a sex cutscene, and the dopamine rush will hit.

So! Let’s combine giving the player a power trip, with a less rigid structure for giving the player porn. Instead of tying the porn to purely progression gates, let’s tie it to the progression.

Plot milestones

In Third Crisis, sex scenes are peppered throughout the regular game’s plot, starting with some lesbian bondage before introducing the protagonist, who goes through a tutorial before having their own horny encounters. It’s not just given when you win or lose, but is a natural part of the game. Beating bosses, losing to enemies, and exploring dialogue options in sidequests all lead to unlocking new CGs.

Now what’s nice about that, is that the sex isn’t placed somewhere extremely predictable. It isn’t just a reward for beating The Boss Of Forest Zone, Now Go To Ice Zone And Beat The Ice Boss For More Cock. Because that’s the biggest issue of predictable rewards, you know you’re not getting anything until that checkpoint, which will make the player weigh whether or not it’s even worth continuing. This is fine, again, for an arcade type game, not an RPG or adventure game. By sprinkling sex throughout the plot itself, the player will not only want to progress, but their curiosity will have them wondering “what else is out there?”

Rewarding exploration

By putting sex scenes behind optional side quests or encounters, the dog that is the player will scour every single corner of the map, and leave no pixel unturned. Personally, that’s more exciting to me than what you’ll get in the main progression route. In Future Fragments the player can find their rival Faye in sexual situations if they explore the map enough. These are completely optional, and don’t give any direct rewards like more HP or an item, but they’re by far what motivates me to explore the maps as thoroughly as possible, more so than the plot macguffins the game is named after!

So now the player is excited. Sex can happen anywhere. Maybe that daunting off road path with stronger monsters isn’t just hiding a secret, but a sexy secret! They’ll be more likely to venture down those optional paths you painstakingly made.

If we’re using sex in game overs, boss fights, and just randos, why not put it everywhere?

So now I want to talk about the concept of a “sex stat”. It’s not a bad idea! Say, the higher the player’s sex stat is, the more opportunities you unlock for fucking. It could even be tied to the player character’s personality, and affect the story! Instead of using a sword and shield, they’ll end any conflict with sass and sex. They open their eyes to the horny world around them and stop being a hero, and instead become a succubus, and the ending is a massive cum filled orgy.

That sounds excessive

Yeah, it does, doesn’t it.

I’m not a fan of “corruption” systems in porn games. Corruption as a kink is totally fine, and having it be a part of the story lets you incorporate more sexuality into the plot. But as I alluded to, it snowballs pretty fast (and I’m not talking about spitting in someone’s mouth). It ends up being like a cheat code, where you’re bypassing parts of the game for no cost. It stops being a reward, it stops being unexpected, and it stops it from being sexy.

Wait, what? Stops being sexy? What’s not sexy about a succubus orgy?

Alright, listen, we gotta rein it in for a minute. This isn’t so much about game design as it is about writing erotica, but if you have a world where everyone’s fucking and sucking 24/7, there’s no contrast to make what would normally be a hot taboo a hot taboo. If everybody’s naked, nobody’s naked. The aforementioned snowball effect of a corruption system can be seen if you play literally any game that has one. It won’t take long to not have to engage with any combat or adventuring system if you can just press the “Submit to the big dick warlock” button and watch porn to progress.

Which, now that I said that, is exactly the problem. Imagine any other rpg you’ve ever played. Now imagine if every encounter and dialogue option had an option to just watch a short cutscene to skip the encounter. That would suck ass, right? Literally no difference here.

It would. Hey, I’m sort of lost now.

Don’t worry, we’re wrapping this up.

So what did we learn? We learned game over CGs have a critical design flaw that shouldn’t be relied on. We learned that predictable rewards can lead to boredom. We learned to keep sex as a reward and not devalue it.

To summarize, here’s a neat trick to know where to put your porn scenes.

”Would I put an Xbox Live achievement here?”

It’s that easy. “Lose to Goblins for the first time,” that’s an achievement. “Beat orc commander,” that’s an achievement. “Find Hubert the Magical Dickhead,” that’s an achievement. Using that as a guideline is foolproof. Almost.

This sounds like it’d take a lot of resources

It sure does! But don’t worry. I’ll cover that in the next post talking all about how to deal with the resource management of a porn game.

(Shoutout to Taylor, my guy for editing!)

[alchemie-tarot]

Material Blessings

Hello! Long time, no pick-a-card. The Universe has sent me a few things to deal with since my last post, lessons and blessings alike. My creative energy is having a new life and I just want to do it for myself and share it with the world. Yes, that includes sharing more of my photography from past travels.

I meant to post this during my bias season, Taurus, but I have been taking it easy with my body, and trusting the timing with it. This pick-a-card is also shorter than my previous ones.

Anyway. Welcome back. You know the drill: Take a breath. Feel free to choose the pile or piles that call out to you. Some details may not feel like it’s for you and that’s because it isn’t, it’s alright, since this is a general reading. Please don’t take it too seriously as well. Nothing is set in stone. 

Pile 1

Cards: 4 of Cups, 10 of Swords (I had a bit of a mind exercise with this message.)

Your material blessing is something that you will receive, but its purpose is to make you realize that something you already have may have been taken for granted. I see that it’s something shiny to you, “a shiny toy,” whether it’s figurative or literal. It may be something that is a bit of a flex somehow. It may also remind you of something that you wanted in the past, maybe as a child, but couldn’t attain then. It will give you that mood boost and yes, you will enjoy it for a time. But, ultimately, you will find that it does not go as deep as you thought it would.

If you feel like something that you have previously enjoyed is losing its luster, even if it has been in your life for a long time, maybe that is a message for you. Is it really rooted in sentimental value, or is it from a fear of lack?

Eventually declining something that is coming your way may sound counterintuitive for a reading about material blessings. But, heed detached feelings and they will remind you of what really matters. Let go of what has served its purpose in your life, especially if they have pointed out what gives you long-term value. Be true to your principles, that you won’t spend your energy on things not aligned with you. Remember that “all that glitters is not gold.”

Pile 2

Cards: 2 of Wands, King of Swords

A business opportunity, specifically a trip to somewhere. A ticket. Could also be a gift coming from a far place. A box of fruits or wine, specifically, for a few. An invitation to a party, again, for a few. For the majority, travel is really emphasized.

It was 2:22 PM when I was interpreting these cards, and this is the 2nd Pile, and this pile has the 2 of Wands. Amazing. You may be getting two things. A double of something, or some combination of the ones I mentioned.

Whatever you will be receiving will grant you access to something exclusive. Opened doors that will basically, I believe, reconcile two separate aspects of your life (your career and family life, for example). They can be anything. Not only will you be let through these gates, but you will be given the keys to hold them.

You need more structure for this material blessing coming to you. To do that, your guides advise you to lean into your duality. Practice and get good at multitasking. You may have to hold two different things that require a ton of responsibility. Do not waver or be intimidated, however. You are chosen because you are wholly capable of doing this. Self-discipline and judgment are your friends.

Pile 3

Cards: 8 of Wands, 7 of Swords

You are about to get news about something pending. Since this is a material blessing, it is about finances, for the majority. A letter, the approval of a loan, insurance, came at the top of my head. Especially if it is something that you have wanted to do for a while, or have been waiting a long time for. Something that will solve your problems.

For some, this is something that you will gain as a reward for being resourceful. It could be an inheritance, or it simply was someone else’s previously. A specific image for a few, but it is something colorful and could appeal to your creativity or inner child.

Once you receive this blessing, you are advised to gather all your smarts in order to make sure it doesn’t slip from your hands. Don’t get complacent. Make a full-proof strategy for this. Bend the rules when you can. Don’t let yourself be distracted by schemes and excuses to use this for a purpose other than its original one, or somehow turn this into something it is not. Be careful not to give in to greed.

Pile 4

Cards: Wheel of Fortune, Page of Coins

A very unexpected gift, perhaps a long overdue one for something good that you have done in the past, that you may not even recall. A big reward for a big risk you took. Something you worked diligently and pushed the limits for, used your creativity and resourcefulness for, everything. And it comes with a bow on top. For a few, it’s something sweet, could be a food treat? This gift translates into some kind of knowledge that not only benefits you, but a lot of other people as well, a community. This gift will start up a web of connections that root from you.

This is not something everybody comes along often. Set tangible goals to ground this. Lead by example and hope, I’m hearing. Your success has a direct effect on the sacrifices and mindsets of this community looking up to you. You will definitely lift them up in some way, perhaps through a gathering. Maybe you will host a party, or a kind of workshop.

Share these blessings of yours, but not at the expense of yourself. The moment you feel that something is amiss, you must withdraw accordingly, and you are encouraged not to feel bad for that. Boundaries must be established and respected.

Thank you for gracing my post with your presence and thoughts. Take care and be happy!

[dwellordream]

Parents Should Ignore Their Children More Often

By Darby Saxbe, clinical psychologist and professor of psychology at the University of Southern California

I recently spoke with an anthropologist named Barry Hewlett who studies child-rearing in hunter-gatherer societies in Central Africa. He explained to me that children in those societies spend lots of time with their parents — they tag along throughout the day and often help with tasks like foraging — but they are rarely the main object of their parents’ attention. Sometimes bored, sometimes engaged, these kids spend much of their time observing adults doing adult things.

Parents in contemporary industrialized societies often take the opposite approach. In the precious time when we’re not working, we place our children at the center of our attention, consciously engaging and entertaining them. We drive them around to sports practice and music lessons, where they are observed and monitored by adults, rather than the other way around. We value “quality time” over quantity of time. We feel guilty when we have to drag our children along with us to take care of boring adult business.

This intensive, often frantic style of parenting requires a lot more effort than the style Professor Hewlett described. I found myself thinking about those hunter-gatherers last month when I read the advisory from the surgeon general, Vivek Murthy, warning that many parents are stressed to their breaking point. There are plenty of reasons for this worrisome state of affairs. One is that we don’t ignore our children often enough.

The modern style of parenting is not just exhausting for adults; it is also based on assumptions about what children need to thrive that are not supported by evidence from our evolutionary past. For most of human history, people had lots of kids, and children hung out in intergenerational social groups in which they were not heavily supervised. Your average benign-neglect day care is probably closer to the historical experience of child care than that of a kid who spends the day alone with a doting parent.

Of course, just because a parenting style is ancient doesn’t make it good. But human beings have spent about 90 percent of our collective time on Earth as hunter-gatherers, and our brains and bodies evolved and adapted to suit that lifestyle. Hunter-gatherer cultures tell us something important about how children are primed to learn.

A parenting style that took its cue from those hunter-gatherers would insist that one of the best things parents can do — for ourselves as well as for our children — is to go about our own lives and tote our children along. You might call it mindful underparenting.

Children learn not only from direct instruction, but also from watching and modeling what other people around them do, whether it’s foraging for berries, changing a tire or unwinding with friends after a long day of work. From a young age, that kind of observation begins to equip children for adulthood.

More important, following adults around gives children the tremendous gift of learning to tolerate boredom, which fosters patience, resourcefulness and creativity. There is evidence from neuroscience that a resting brain is not an idle one. The research tells us that the mind gets busy when it is left alone to do its own thing — in particular, it tends to think about other people’s minds. If you want to raise empathetic, imaginative children who can figure out how to entertain themselves, don’t keep their brains too occupied.

An excellent way to bore children is to take them to an older relative’s house and force them to listen to a long adult conversation about family members they don’t know. Quotidian excursions to the post office or the bank can create valuable opportunities for boredom, too.

Leaving kids’ screens at home on such trips can deepen the useful tedium. It also forces parents to build up their tolerance to their child’s fussiness, an essential component of underparenting. Parents too often feel the need to engage their children in “fun” activities to tempt them away from screens. But by teaching children to crave constant external stimulation and entertainment, intensive parenting can actually worsen screen dependence.

To be sure, when kids are upset, in danger or require guidance, parents can and should swoop in to help. But that is precisely the point: It is only by ignoring our children much of the time that we conserve the energy necessary to give them our full attention when they actually need it.

In recent years there has been a lot of hand-wringing about so-called helicopter parents and their hopelessly coddled children. But we rarely talk about what parents ought to do instead. In an ideal world, we would set children loose to roam free outdoors, unsupervised. As a small-town Ohio kid in the 1990s, I spent hours with my brothers playing in the creek behind our house, with plenty of time to get good and bored. When that sort of “free range” experience is not an option, however, mindful underparenting is the next best thing.

This approach can take the form of bringing children with you not just on boring errands, but also when you work, socialize or exercise. I was at my gym the other day when a father came in with his 4-year-old son. The two of them took turns working out with a trainer teaching them martial arts moves. When it wasn’t his turn, the 4-year-old scrambled around the gym and, when he got tired, lay on his belly on the mat and watched his father practice kicks. Observing the boy, his big eyes taking in a ton of social information, I thought about all the parents who say that they have no time to exercise because they’re too busy with their kids.

At the same time, I thought about all the gyms that bar small children. Even as parenting has gotten more intensive, public spaces, especially in the United States, seem to have become more hostile to the presence of children. I wrote most of my Ph.D. dissertation alongside my toddler in a coffee shop in my neighborhood that had a mini play area with stacking toys, board books and room to park a stroller. That coffee shop is gone now, replaced by a sleeker cafe where it’s hard to picture a stray plastic toy, let alone a rambunctious 2-year-old.

Parents have it easier in countries such as Germany and Spain, where you can find beer gardens and tapas bars situated right next to playgrounds, or in Denmark, where parents routinely park their infants in strollers outside cafes while they socialize. In such places you can relax and catch up with friends while children romp around — a reminder of how much easier parenting gets when we enjoy the social trust born from shared investment in care.

In other words, underparenting requires structural change, and not just the obvious changes that we think of as parental stress-relievers, such as family leave and paid child care. It also requires that as a society, we build back our tolerance for children in public spaces, as annoying and distracting as they can be, and create safe environments where lightly supervised kids can roam freely. In a society that treated children as a public good, we would keep a collective eye on all our kids — which would free us of the need to hover over our own

[piratefishmama]

Fake it till you make it | Part 11

“Be careful, Eddie” were Wayne’s words as he hugged his nephew goodbye, knowing he wouldn’t see him for a whole week and honestly still being a little worried about it “if you think even for one minute that something’s off, just… just get out of there, alright?”

“I know, I know, I’ll bolt through the woods and hitchhike my way home, I know the way, Wayne, I got this.” He could read a compass, he’d be able to get a map from any gas station and head home, he was resourceful, an adult, he could handle himself.

“Damn right you got this, son. But… be careful in other ways too, alright? Steve’s a charmin boy, but… remember this ain’t real.” Eddie had bitten his bottom lip at that one, brows furrowed in thought, those big brown eyes of his swirling in emotion, he never did hide his feelings well, it’d always be a little real for him. “Protect this” Wayne poked his chest with a gentle prod, right over Eddie’s heart “okay?”

“Mhm, I will…” he’d try to anyway. Steve really was… charming. An his kisses? God his kisses… but also... it really was the closest he’d ever been to what romance ought to be, what a relationship ought to be, he never thought he’d have that.

The world didn’t appear to be moving fast enough for him to truly experience romance as most people did.

He had to remember that he didn’t have that.

“Eddie! C’mon you’re in the back with me!” Steve called from the garage door, behind which the car was rumbling, their bags packed into the back, Steve’s parents already inside, ready to go. The longest Eddie had ever been away from Wayne since arriving in Hawkins, was three days during a weekend trip to Indy with the band to play at a slightly bigger venue than the Hideout as a one off.

A favour for his favourite gay bar when a live act they’d scheduled pulled out last minute. It hadn’t gotten them a lot of exposure, but it’d been a fun and enlightening night for the band.

“Best get on, son, I’ll see you in a week. Call when you can alright? Don’t care if you wake me up or about no damn time zones, just call, I’ll answer, an if I don’t, you know the plant’s number.” Tight lipped, strained smile, Eddie nodded quickly then turned on his heel and graced Steve with a brilliant smile, game on.

“I don’t wish to alarm anyone, but... did we miss a turning?” Eddie may have been unusually quiet for the first leg of their journey, nerves having hit him like a truck the second they pulled out of Loch Nora, but he was paying attention to his surroundings.

And those surroundings, were all too quickly, Fort Wayne International Airport.

“You don’t honestly expect rich people to drive the whole way to Canada do you?” Steve’s voice was amused and came from so very close to his ear that he actually jumped, quickly turning in his seat, back plastered against his side of the back seat, eyes wide as he took in and processed what Steve said. “Plus, what would you rather do, spend nearly two days in a car with my parents—”

“We’d make wonderful road trip companions, don’t be rude Steven” came his mother’s interruption

Steve ignored it in favour of continuing his point “—orr… around ten hours in one of those with a brief stop off in Chicago.” Steve leaned inward, uncaring of personal space as he pointed to a plane, ascending into the heavens from the runway.

“I don’t—” he didn’t know. He’d never been on a plane before. Trips like that, across country, they were the stuff of road trip legend, but Steve had a point…

Two whole days of a trip stuck in a car. Or just ten hours. Eddie’s eyes skipped to the window again, to the plane now disappearing beyond the overcast cloud cover.

“It’ll be okay, Eds, I’ll sit right next to you the whole time, you’ll be okay.”

“What if we crash? What if it falls out of the sky? What’ll you do?”

“My best to keep you safe.” It was so earnest, coupled with Steve gently taking his hands and giving them a squeeze, eyes so full of raw honesty, of understanding, it hit Eddie directly in all his soft gooey bits. “I’ll hold your hand through the whole ten hours if you want.”

“Even during the stop in Chicago?”

“Hah, yeah baby, even during the stop in Chicago.”

“They’re a lot more openminded in Chicago too!” Lynda spoke up without turning her head, allowing Eddie to not get stuck on baby for too long “might get a few looks from people passing through the airport but nobody will say anything, and if they do, they deal with us.”

“If we had enough time during the stop we’d have taken a trip around the city, let you boys see some of the sights we’ve seen, but alas, our connection gives us an hour at most depending on everything being on time, and that’s just enough time to get us from one gate to the next.” John added as he pulled into the long stay parking lot. “Maybe some other time, some other family trip, eh Eddie?”

Eddie’s wide eyes turned to the front of the car, then back to Steve again, lips parted ever so slightly in surprise. Not surprise over the words used, but the feeling those words caused. Family trip. They were including him on future family trips.

Steve’s eyes quickly snapped from him to the front of the car and back again, then a warm smile blossomed on his lips. He lifted his hand and ever so carefully brushed a stray curl back behind Eddie’s ear, and asked so softly as his thumb lowered to brush along his jawline. “Right, Eddie?”

“Y-yeah… yeah I’d… I’d love that.” He turned his head fully toward the drivers seat, he’d never been too good at hiding his emotions, so maybe he was just a little choked up when he accepted the offer “I’d really love that.”

“Great!” The car came to a stop in one of the many parking bays, ignition off, driver side door opened “It’s settled then.” Settled. Eddie would privately mourn the knowledge that it’d never come to fruition, but… on the surface he could pretend he was excited for a future trip for the sake of the ruse. “Now boys if you could get the bigger bags out the trunk that’d be a big help! This back of mine isn’t as sturdy as it used to be.”

“You’re forty-six and go jogging almost every morning, don’t be stupid John.” Lynda whapped her husband with her handbag in gentle, semi-amused admonishment before getting out of the car.

Followed by her husband who, in a hushed tone replied with “don’t tell them that, Lynda, save us the work.” Leaving the two boys to breathe soft laughs between themselves before they too joined the older couple out in the parking lot.

“Steve...” Eddie hissed as they neared check-in.

“What?”

“I have weed” said through his teeth.

“What?” Steve paused.

“I have weed… I have weed in my suitcase.”

“You have what?!” Steve rounded on him, sentence ended with a pointed hiss

“I didn’t know we’d be flying to Canada, Steve, maybe you should tell people when you’re planning on launching them into the troposphere in a death tube!”

“Why would you bring weed on a holiday with my parents, Eddie?!”

“SHHHH, be quiet. I thought I might need it to chill out if I was freaking out at some point during the week like right now, I could really do with it right now.”

“Oh my god.”

“Steven? Is something wrong?” Lynda’s voice had them both snapping to attention, eyes wide, caught in the act. Luckily she had no idea what that ‘act’ was.

“Nope! No, uh, Eddie’s just gotta… use the bathroom real quick.”

“Well, there’s bathrooms in the business class lounge he can—"

“No! It’s uhm, it’s urgent, can’t wait, he’s uh…”

“Nerves, it’s uh, it’s nerves, I think imma hurl” she looked between them with a small frown on her face, assessing them both, it seemed like whatever she found wasn’t worth arguing about though, because she waved them off with a quick flick of her wrist.

“Alright fine, hurry up. Steven you know where the closest ones are go on now quickly before we’re late for check in, we’ll double check everything here.” John was already pausing to check through all their documents like a regular airport dad, it was the third time he’d done it since entering the airport.

“Alright let’s go, Eds, lets deal with your little problem.” At least he was soft-handed when he manhandled Eddie to the nearest bathroom, patchy suitcase with a squeaky wheel wobbling away behind them. Once inside, he checked each stall individually, before quickly turning on a wide eyed Eddie. “Where is it?” Eddie pointed down at the suitcase, and Steve snapped to action, lifting, and placing Eddie’s suitcase down on the slightly damp row of sinks. “Did you pack any liquid soaps?”

“Uhhh…” Eddie was too busy staring at the flex of Steve’s arms as he just. Lifted that whole very packed suitcase in one hoist. Fuck.

“Any shampoo? Conditioner?”

“I—I feel like my answer is going to make you mad so I’m just not going to answer.” Which on its own, was a pretty damning answer, and Steve’s expression told him as such “I don’t have a twelve step hair care routine like you do, Steve! I just… I have drug store shampoo and conditioner and that’s really only when it’s on a two for one sale! Usually I just—"

“If you say you water it down to make it last longer I’m going to throw the first thing I find in this suitcase at you.”

“Shutting up. I just thought I’d buy it there if I needed it, or just borrow yours, I know you brought some, right?”

“Yes.”

“Well then, I figured that… if I borrowed yours it’d make it seem like I just… wanted… to smell like you?”

“You just made that up.” Eddie just smiled, all teeth and dimples, scrunching his shoulders inwards in an unfairly cute display of mischief. “You’re a menace, Munson. Get your stuff out of there for me. Don’t ever put weed in checked luggage.”

“But—”

“TSA does random checks on checked luggage all the time, an while they’re not usually looking for weed, it’ll get launched and you might get fined. Whereas you can hide weed in just about anything in a carry on, just shows up as vague blurred shit on the x-ray scanners. Just be cool when you shove it through.” Steve was rummaging in the front of his own bag now, “be cool, and act natural.”

“You sound like you’ve done this before.”

“Mn once or twice, Tommy was a dick, but his cousin worked for the TSA for a few years, gave us all kinds’a neat tricks to get things through the airport.” Tommy’s cousin had gotten fired and a year inside for attempting to smuggle narcotics out of the confiscated items lock up, but that was neither here nor there. “Gimmie what you have.” Hand outstretched, Steve waited until Eddie placed the single baggie containing three roll ups and a few loose buds “Christ Eddie.”

“I knew I’d be nervous! Stop being mean to me!” Steve rolled his eyes before taking the three roll ups out of the baggie

“Your smokes, give em.” Plenty of room in the pack to slot the three roll ups, and as for the buds, Steve emptied out his travel sized bottle of hand lotion into the sink and stuffed the whole plastic bag into the little bottle, then screwed the lid on tight. Nobody would look twice at a rich kids hand lotion. “Now wet the ends of your hair.”

“What?”

“Your hair butthead! Wet it, we told my mother you’d be in here hurling your guts up, so… you got some in your hair, it’s a good extra to add to the ruse, now do it.”

“So my own boyfriend wouldn’t even hold my hair back if I threw up? Where’s the romance, where’s the commitment, where’s the care and—”

“Dude you have a lot of hair, I doubt I could get it all in my hand at once.” Although now that thought was in his head… could he? Could he get a good fistful and hold it there? Not important. “I’d drop bits.” A flimsy argument, he wouldn’t drop anything.

“Uh-huh, sure you would, big boy.” Eddie quickly dampened the tips of his hair, and ran a wet hand through his bangs quickly in a bid to fake flop sweat, theatrics over and done with. “Zipper-up, let’s get this show on the road, shall we?”

Part 13

[goldkirk]

okay, wow, I’m not publishing that ask, anon.

I need you to understand that online activism only reaches people who are also online.

And it only reaches people who, in our current algorithm-based internet, are actually shown that content.

When you do online activism that’s not something concrete like a petition, you’re spreading information and awareness. That’s super important.

But it’s also like, step one of twelve, and unfortunately it’s where most of us just stop. We share information and news and share guilt tripping posts and we say things should be different and we tell other people that things are terrible and we carry on and most of it makes no real-world difference at all.

I don’t know how to tell you that you have got to do local, real life activism if you want to make any change.

You have got to pay attention to your school boards and judges.

You have got to campaign for local candidates.

You have to encourage locals to run for office, or run for office yourself.

You have to volunteer your time and energy for real local causes and groups.

You have to get acquainted with your local news sources so you know who to reach out to when word needs to be spread about something important.

You have to call and contact and petition your local officials, you need to put up flyers where your actual community will see, you need to get aquatinted with local resources so you know where to direct people who need them.

You have to actually do activism irl. That is how you make change happen.

Any time you spend arguing with online users about activism and not doing enough could be spent actually making a difference in your literal real life community, or helping the people who do.

[callsign-muffin]

Heal Together: Chapter 4

(Bradley 'Rooster' Bradshaw fic)

This chapter came together super fast, I'm a little shocked! Next on my to do list is to make a masterlist, so that all parts are easily accessible. If time permits, I really want to make a playlist. I just love making playlists!

Masterlist

Word Count: 2.3k+

Rooster finished his song behind the piano, surrounded by his friends who were all singing along. The whole bar burst into applause and cheers.

You clapped slowly, still staring in disbelief. He looked so great, so healthy, so… handsome.

Carly nudged you, snapping you out of your haze, “If you two don’t stop staring at each other and say ‘hello’, I’ll drag his ass over here!”

You shook your head, “I have a rule about seeing patients in the wild, I don’t acknowledge them unless they acknowledge me first.”

“But this former patient is sooooo hot!” Madi swooned.

Sam scanned the people surrounding Rooster at the piano, “And so are his friends…”

You and Bradley locked eyes again.

Hi. He mouthed to you.

Hey. You mouthed back.

A smile spread across his face and he slowly stood up from the piano bench, breezing past his friends, and swaggered towards you and the girls.

“Oh my god, he’s coming!” Sam squealed under her breath.

Carly shushed her, “Shut up and be cool!”

“What is my favorite nurse doing at my favorite bar?” Bradley posted up in front of you and winked.

You shifted your weight, trying to calm the butterflies in your stomach, “The youngins on the unit bullied me into coming out.”

He looked over at them, “Oh hey, night nurse.”

Carly laughed, “Oh hey, night patient. Staying out of trouble?”

He shrugged, “I mean, I’d fuck around and get hospitalized if my favorite nurse was there to take care of me.”

“Please don’t do that, Bradshaw.” You rolled your eyes.

“I promise I’ll be good if you let me buy you a drink.” He smirked, glancing towards the bar.

Before you could argue, Carly answered for you, “She would love that! Thank you, Lt. Bradshaw.”

You turned and glared at her.

“Wanna lead the way?” Bradley suggested.

You pursed your lips, he was so cute! “Well alright!”

As you and Bradley walked away from the girls, you could feel them silently celebrating behind you.

“So are you chaperoning a field trip?” Bradley chuckled as the two of you stood outside on the deck that faced the beach. The only thing illuminating the dark sky was the moon and its reflection on the water.

You snorted, “Is it that obvious I’m the old lady?”

“Oh no, it’s obvious that those girls look like they just graduated high school.” He explained and looked over at you, “you look like a grown ass woman.”

“Nice save.” You softly punched his arm playfully, an electrical current ignited all throughout your body as soon as you touched him. Woah.

You wondered if Bradley could tell the feelings that just came over you, he was beaming at you. “It’s clear that they love and respect the shit outta you. Especially Carly, the child.”

You sputtered, “Oh my god, I forgot you called her that!”

He chuckled, “I still can’t believe she’s old enough to a be a nurse.”

“I can tell you this now since you’re no longer under her care,” you prefaced, “But she’s like brand new. She’s only been a nurse for like 3 months, she’s fresh off of her orientation. All those girls are.”

”And you’ve adopted them all?” He asked.

You shrugged, “They adopted me, more so. There’s a big culture of ‘nurses eat their young’. Basically meaning that like older nurses are really shitty to new nurses as a way of breaking them in and toughening them up.”

Bradley nodded, “Sounds familiar.”

“I, however, don’t agree with that.” You explained, “I think it instills insecurity with their skills and clinical judgment. It also makes them less likely to ask for help when they’re in over their heads. So I go out of my way to be a resource for these new nurses. And I’ve grown very fond of them in the process.”

He smiled, “Maybe if I had someone like you in the Navy, I’d be a colonel by now.”

“Maybe you could be that for someone else.” You suggested.

“ROOOOOOOOOSTERRRRRR!” Two tall, buff, tipsy men stood at the window calling for their friend.

He looked at them, then looked at you, “I think those idiots are beyond help.”

█ ✪ █▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓█ ✪ █

Rooster and Y/N re-entered the bar to join his friends around the pool table.

“Hey guys, this is Y/N.” Bradley introduced her, “She was my nurse in the ICU.”

Phoenix's eyes widened, “Oh! The hot one?”

Y/N choked on your drink then looked up at Bradley, who was red as a lobster.

“Yes, Phoenix…” he sighed, “The best nurse I’ve ever seen do the damn job.”

Hangman sauntered up and held out his hand, “Name’s Hangman. How about you come take care of me, Honey?”

She couldn’t help but audibly gag, “That is the worst pick up line to ever use on a nurse, dude. Instant ick.”

Rooster smirked. She was smart, pretty, and completely saw through Hangman’s bullshit. What a woman.

“Hey, I’m Bob.” Bob greeted her, “Thanks so much for taking care of Rooster.”

“Of course, he was a wonderful patient.” She then looked up at Bradley again, “Why do they call you Rooster?”

“Cuz he’s got a big—“ Payback started to say but Bradley reached over and covered his mouth to shut him up.

“It’s my callsign, what I go by in the air as a pilot.” He explained, “We all have one. They’re given to us during training, usually it starts out as someone clowning you and it just sticks.”

She nodded, “Interesting… you’re more of a Bradley to me though.”

Eventually Carly, Sam, and Madi made their way over to the group of aviators as well. Hangman looked a little too excited to see three hot young things. He was starting to get real close and touchy with Madi.

“How old is she?” Rooster asked Carly.

“Twenty two.” Carly chirped.

He took his head and walked over to the flirty pair mumbling to himself, “Absolutely the fuck not.”

Y/N kind of loved that he was protective over the girls. “Glad he got in the middle of them before I had to.”

“It’s giving Mom and Dad.” Sam giggled.

She rolled your eyes, “It’s giving… you’re reading way too far into this.”

“Y/N, come get your patient!” Madi pouted walking back to the group with Rooster, “He’s a cock block.”

“They don’t call him Rooster for nothing.” Carly held up her drink, pretending to cheers.

“Ooooh, good one.” Phoenix prompted a high-five and Carly gladly accepted.

Y/N scooted in closer to Bradley when he stood beside her. He so desperately wanted to drape his arm around her shoulder, to make her feel as safe as she made him feel in the hospital. But he was… nervous. He didn’t want to scare away the angelic figure that he had been daydreaming about for the past two weeks. 

Somehow, Bradley ended the night with three drunk 22 year olds in the back of his vintage Bronco and Y/N in the front seat. 

“If one of them throws up in your car, I’ll pay for it to be cleaned.” She whispered to him.

He scoffed, “No, need to worry about it. It wouldn’t be the first time these seats have been christened with vomit.”

She looked back at the girls, still with a concerned look on her face as they giggled and slurred.

He placed his hand over hers and a surge of electricity shot through his entire body.

Y/N then looked over at him and gave him a soft smile, “Thank you for staying sober enough to drive.”

Bradley winked, “I was planning on it, wouldn’t have driven myself to the bar if I was planning on having more than a beer or two.”

“I guess DUIs are probably frowned upon in the Navy.” 

He chuckled, “I mean yes, but many seamen straight outta boot camp still get them… it’s a lot of fucking paperwork.”

“Y/N… he said semen!” Sam leaned forward in her seat and giggled, making all three young girls burst into hysterical laughter.

Y/N couldn’t help but giggle too, though she tried to hide it. 

Rooster couldn’t help but smile to himself as he turned into the parking lot of the apartment complex that your phone was navigating him to. 

“This is you girls.” Rooster looked back at the silly trio, “You all roommates?”

Carly shook her head, “Noooo, we’re having a sleepover!”

“Ooh, very nice.” He nodded, trying not to laugh at the girls too much as they stumbled out of the truck.

Sam straightened herself up at waved to Bradley from the curb, “Thanks Dad!”

“Thanks Dad!” The other two echoed, making Bradley laugh. 

Y/N shooed them away, “Go to bed! Maybe give each other IVs in the morning if you feel bad.”

The girls stumbled into the building, “Okay Mom!”

She watched them and made sure they were safely inside before turning back to Bradley, “Sorry about them.”

He waved it off, “They’re a trip, I’m happy to be able to help you get them home safely.”

“May I?” She reached for the AUX cord that was hooked up to the updated radio system. It juxtaposed the vintage feel of the rest of the Bronco, but it was a necessity for Bradley to easily jam out.

“Be my guest.” 

“What do you like to listen to?”

He looked over at her and smirked, “is it too ironic for me to say Dad Rock?”

She burst into laughter. Oh god, how Bradley’s heart soared when he heard that beautiful sound. Once she caught her breath, Y/N plugged in her phone. “Have I got the playlist for you!”

The intro to Up Around the Bend by Creedence Clearwater Revival started to play through his speakers.

“Oh hell yeah!” He bobbed his head to the beat and turned up the volume, “I love CCR!”

█ ✪ █▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓█ ✪ █

Bradley drummed his palms against the steering wheel to the beat of And She Was by Talking Heads as he pulled up in front of your apartment. He idled there for a moment before shifting into park.

You sighed… This is so inappropriate. But you desperately wanted to shoot your shot…

He looked over at her, “I just… I can’t believe I saw you again… It doesn’t feel real.”

“Do you wanna come inside?” You blurted out, possibly a little too loud.

He perked up, completely surprised. “Uh yeah. Yeah! I would love to!” He shifted his car into drive and found a guest parking space for the Bronco.

You started to reach for your door handle but Bradley stopped you, “Don’t you dare touch that door.”

You blushed, remembering how he scolded you earlier in the parking lot of the Hard Deck for the same thing.

He got out of the car, walked around to your door, and opened it for you.

“An officer and a gentleman.” You winked at him as you climbed out.

He offered you a hand for assistance, “Now you’re gettin’ it.”

You accepted, placing your hand in his— again that feeling of electricity jolted through you.

He gestured for you to walk ahead of him, “Lead the way.”

You began to ramble as the two of you walked to your building, “So I’m not much of a beer drinker but I do have seltzers, wine, liquor, and all kinds of mixers. Don’t feel like you have to take anything if you don’t want it though. I can also put a pizza in the oven—“

You were interrupted by a large hand on your shoulder, again with the electric feeling. 

“That all sounds wonderful.” Bradley said sweetly, “Please don’t make a fuss over me.”

You sighed, “Sorry, can’t help it. I get nervous.”

“You don’t need to be nervous with me.” 

“So was I correct in hearing that you told the girls to do IVs on each other in the morning?” Bradley questioned polishing off the last sip of his glass of wine.

You promptly refilled his glass and your own, finishing the bottle you opened together. “You are correct.”

“What the fuck?” He was absolutely tipsy now.

“Obviously we don’t do it often,” you explained, “But after a night out, you feel crappy and dehydrated… give yourself a bag of IV fluid and you’re golden for the day. Nurses have actually made businesses out of going to people’s houses and giving them.”

Rooster was so shook by the information he was receiving, “Where do you get the stuff?!”

“I’ve collected some from hospitals over my time working there. As I said, I don’t do it often but… it’s nice to have on hand.” You shrugged.

He smirked, “What are the odds I can get you to give me an IV sometime?”

You laughed, “Bradshaw, I gave you tons of IV fluids two weeks ago!”

“That’s different, I was a patient!” He sipped his wine, “That’s not as fun as getting drunk and having one the next morning.”

You scanned his arms, “I mean… ya do have some great veins.”

He looked down at his arms, “I have never had anyone tell me that before, especially not so sensually.”

You burst out laughing, “Sorry! Good veins are like Nurse Porn. We love them.”

Bradley shook his head, “The more I learn about this profession, the weirder it gets. First you’re telling me about older nurses eating their young; now you’re telling me you all are into vein porn!”

Your laughing continued until your stomach started to hurt. It has been a really long time since you laughed this hard. You looked over and caught him smiling at you, “What?”

“You have a great laugh,” he explained, “I remember the first time I heard it. You were talking to me while I was intubated and drugged up.”

“You remember that?” You asked in disbelief.

He nodded, “How could I forget the first time I felt human in that place?”

You placed your hand over his, this time instead of electricity, there was a wave of calm with your touch. 

He turned his hand so that his palm was up and holding yours, “You made me feel like I could actually get better.”

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[celestiaras]

‧₊˚✧ ❛[ surrounded by stone ]❜

ft. yu. q wilson x f! reader — krisis, nijisanji en

╰₊✧ while out exploring with wilson, you find yourselves trapped in a 1x1 hole with no tools to escape┊2.6k words

contains: smut!! switch wilson, reader┊takes place on a hardcore krisis server, reader is a member of krisis & shorter than wilson, minecraft mechanics, forced proximity & awkward sexual situations, begging & some teasing, mutual masturbation (fingering & handjobs), willy overthinking & being cute, implied polykrisis at the very end, his clothing actually might be innaccurate idk how all that works from the reference sheet, very very rushed ending

➤ author's note: i love this picture of willy, he looks so cute and shocked. i really went back and forth about how to go about this piece, but i hope that the finished product is okay!! this piece was long overdue and should have been finished months ago…

₊˚ʚ 💌₊˚✧ dedicated to the wonderful @vezalust, i didn’t forget!! i just struggled with motivation, but it’s finally done & i hope you’ll still enjoy despite how long it’s been since i promised it!!

“AHHHHHH FUCK GET ME OUT OF HERE!!”

“SHUT THE FUCK UP, YOU ARE TOO CLOSE TO MY EARS FOR THIS!”

this was just supposed to be a simple adventuring trip to map out new territory and gather the necessary resources to progress through the world, but it all went horribly due to rotten luck. really, what are the chances of discovering three zombie spawners within a hundred blocks of each other? finding something like that would be next to impossible and would even be a great find for an experience farm if you were well-equipped, but unfortunately for you, it wasn’t as impossible as fighting off such a large wave of the undead. even if you two were heroes, you only had iron tools and partial armor and getting swarmed by the horde made combat extremely difficult. the rest was a blur, running around like headless chickens and blindly swinging at enemies that got too close while screaming various swear words.

by the time all of the action, you found yourselves trapped in a one-by-one crevice that wasn’t even tall enough for him to stand up straight, making him slouch so that he wouldn’t bump his head on the ceiling. since neither of you could get close enough to light up the dungeons, you resorted to digging into the side of the cave wall instead and wilson followed you as he placed blocks behind him to shut them out… except he wasn’t looking in your direction, continued until he backed up into you and realized that you were both stuck.

your tools were one block away from crumbling in your hands and you frantically began to search through your inventory, looking for something to fix your pickaxe with or to make a new one entirely, but it was just filled with treasures you gathered up to this point. truly, you were blinded by greed to collect new riches and completely forgot to grab extra essentials like wood. (although now that you think of it, you would need to break at least two blocks to place a crafting table and work on it, such an unimportant thing that is now inconceivable to get out of this cave.) “wilson… please tell me that you still have your pick on you…”

“so i… uh…” with how close you were to him, you could hear him gulp and shuffle around to tug on his collar. “i sort of freaked out and… threw it at a zombie… with my phone too… i don’t have any crafting materials either…”

your device lit up the dark space as you squinted and quickly sent the other two your coordinates, but it died in your hands before you could send the text explaining what happened. “well… it looks like we’re stuck here until vanta and zali wake up since it’s way past midnight,” you groaned. “we told them that we would be back in the morning, so they’ll probably figure out that we’re lost and will look for us then…”

the rough wall of stone was nothing if not uncomfortable to lean against, but you were barely a few inches away from the blonde with your hips still pressed together despite your best efforts to give the other a shred of personal space. it was getting uncomfortably warm from the shared body heat and you could only imagine how hot wilson must be getting in his hoodie, but the stifling silence was honestly a worse fate.

krisis have known each other for a little over a year and were one of the tightest-knit groups, yet here you and the hitman stood like complete strangers stuck in an elevator. it’s safe to say that neither of you could get a second of rest like this despite the long day of traversing uncharted lands, so this awkward position would remain until you two were saved. the idea of starting a conversation crossed your mind but was quickly crushed by the possibility of it falling off and making everything worse, so you decided to just keep your mouth shut and sort through your inventory.

although it had only been a day, the loot piled up in your pockets was impressive now that you were properly tallying it up with stacks of iron and dozens of various gems of ores— this would certainly be able to gear the team to travel across the fiery nether once ready and might even help go towards finding the end portal. you could already picture the gang full-clad in shiny diamond armor with the slain ender dragon at your feet, but maybe you were getting a bit ahead of yourself. for now, building a proper home and creating the gateway to what was essentially hell would be massive accomplishments.

you paused for a moment when you felt wilson shuffling around and realized that his breathing had steadily been getting heavier. peeking over your inventory screen with eyes that were now more adjusted to the dark, you could faintly see him biting onto the thick fabric of his outerwear’s hood. he seemed to be trying to suppress himself in a way, but was struggling terribly and sweating like a sinner in church even though you two had been still for nearly an hour. you tilted your head in concern, “wilson… are you alright? did you injure yourself earlier?”

“i-i’m fine… just…” he let out a shaky breath, his ears burning with embarrassment as he hoped to whatever god there was out there that you haven’t noticed anything. “could you m-move your leg?”

“oh, sorry! wait, let me…” you tried your best to scoot away from him, but the space was so tight that there wasn’t anywhere to escape you. pushing your hand against the course-textured ceiling, an attempt was made to push yourself back from his personal space, but to no avail.

all this while, wilson felt like he was going to explode. yes, he didn't want to realize that he had a raging hard-on— who would be able to bear the humiliation when he couldn’t run away from the situation? however, oh god, your lack of awareness was going to be the death of him, he really needed you to stop unknowingly rubbing your thigh against his crotch and making the problem worse. he’s so fucked (as vanta would say, he’s so cooked that he’s fried a crispy golden brown). what kind of depraved pervert he is getting a boner from being so close to one of his friends— you were never going to talk to him again after this if you find out!

he didn’t want it to happen this way, he wanted to confess his feelings to you in a proper way like a gentleman and go on a few dates before hopping onto anything like this. to jump onto you like a dog in heat before you even know about his feelings was so humiliating and would definitely dash any of his hopes of ending up with you because of how pathetic he was, but he wasn’t in the right mindset to think any more than a minute into the future. “i-i’m sorry…”

before you could ask him what he was talking about, you felt him cup your face in his hands and pull you towards him for a hungry kiss. your eyes widened at the sudden action, feeling him kiss you like a parched man wandering a desert finding an oasis. once you felt the prominent bulge protruding from his pants, you didn’t cringe in disgust like a normal person but rather became dizzy with want. you didn’t start this with any sinful intentions, however, you certainly weren’t going to take it back and reject the advances of someone you’ve fancied since the very beginning.

his hands wandered around your body, tracing over your skin and leaning into your warmth as his tongue darted out to explore your mouth. you couldn’t see a thing, but it only heightened your other senses from the vague smell of his cologne mixed with sweat and the heat burning in his fingertips. it felt unreal, the lines of reality and dreams getting blurred with every passing second. you didn’t want it to end nor did you want him to stop, you just wanted him to ease the aching pain in your cunt and to kiss you like it meant everything to him.

it did mean everything to him, but he was just too horny to focus on the sentimentalities that he was robbing your first time together of in a lust-induced haze.

he parted his lips from yours first, resting his forehead on yours and trying to catch his breath, yet continuing to press kisses onto you in shorter, more frequent intervals. he held you so close to him, it was almost like he was about to implode if he didn’t have his way with you right now, pleading and whining like a little puppy for your permission to escalate the situation further to chase his own high and hopefully yours too. a simple nod would suffice, anything would suffice, and hearing your soft pleas was more than enough to knock over the already tipped scales.

in his rush, he didn’t even bother to try taking off your top. he would only pop off the buttons by accident and ruin the garment without light or night vision of any sort to see just how beautiful your naked-upper form was, so there wasn’t much reason to do so. he would just have to make do with his vivid imagination reinforced by his other senses until next time (if you decided that you would still associate with him after this, that is…), running his hand over your naked skin and gently groping your soft chest. he’s so clumsy in his movements, like a high school boy who is going through his first time with another, but it really just a result of nerves from his affection for you.

you grabbed his wrist to stop him in the act, making him flinch in worry that he did something wrong, but you led it to where you wanted him most. “please,” you breathed, “i know we’re gonna be stuck here for a while, but i need you now.”

oh, if only you could see the expression on his face, you would tease him so badly for it! he just had to blink a few times to process that and got to work, pulling down your pants along with your underwear to finally access your heat. his throat became dry as the overwhelming desire to have you on his mouth and to taste your arousal washed over him, but there wasn’t enough room for him to kneel even if your legs were tossed over his shoulders, so he could have to settle for the next best thing as he circled your clit with his thumb and adding more pressure when you asked him to press on it harder.

“mmhh, fuck…” you threw your head back at his fingers beginning to work you open, slow at first, but steadily became erratic as you wrapped your arms around his neck to cling onto him. he seemed so shy about doing this despite initiating all of this, but hearing your cute little moans of pleasure gave him more confidence about his actions. your hands slipped under the material of his hoodie and managed to find the zipper of his bodysuit, capturing the metal between your fingertips and undoing it before he could notice until the fabric fell a bit below his waist.

he isn’t very built and on the slimmer side since his job is more reliant on speed and agility rather than strength, but you felt as if it balanced the playing field for you to have an equal opportunity to dominate him as he could with you. you traced a line down his torso and pulled at the elastic of his boxers, his breath hitching as your wrapped your fingers around his throbbing cock and experimentally started to jerk him off. if he wasn’t already, he was now putty in your hands and immediately bucked his hips into your hand in an almost desperate state while the pace of his fingers faltered.

you couldn’t help but smirk at his state just from your touch and tease him for it, “god, you’re so needy— how long have you been waiting for something like this to happen?”

he couldn’t keep his voice still and kept stuttering, how could he sound any different when you were stroking him so sweetly like that? “i-i don’t even know—mmhh— it feels like f-forever…”

forever almost seemed to be laughable since it’s just been a year and a few months since you first met, but it really does feel like it’s been much longer than that. there’s always been chemistry between the two of you which was a bit stronger than the other members, one that always had you gravitating towards the other. you frequently got teased by vanta and zali over this special connection several times and had no doubt that wilson went through the same treatment, now realizing that they probably thought something like this where hidden affections boiled over should have happened earlier.

he was dripping so much that lube wasn’t even necessary, your hand able to slide up and down his cock with ease repeating the motions: massaging his shaft while running your thumb over the leaking tip and smiling whenever he let out a soft whine as the building pleasure released all over your hand. he would have been more embarrassed about climaxing so quickly and easily if he hadn’t already diverted his focus on making you do the same.

his fingers were still halfway inside of you from before, but you still gasped when he resumed his relentless pace like he had never stopped at all and igniting fire under your skin as you clung onto his shoulders. wilson isn’t the most experienced, but he quickly learns what feels best to you based on how loud you’re being: what makes you go quiet versus what makes you shudder and gasp until you finally gush on his fingers.

as the rush of euphoria reached it’s peak then began to settle, you briefly thanked this blocky world for not listening to the rules of your dimension and that this tiny little space somehow contained enough oxygen to last for forever seeing as both of you were completely out of breath. your bodies were sweaty and a bit overheated, but it somehow felt fine since it all happened with him. “let’s just… stay like this for a bit… i’m so tired, and this feels so nice,” you sighed as a spell of fatigue suddenly swept over the two of you, leaning into his chest and letting him wrap his arms around you while relishing in the sound of his rapid heartbeat.

“so, uh… does this mean we’re dating now?” he no longer felt scared that his feelings would be unrequited, knowing that you felt same (he would have to ask later how long it’s been…).

“yeah,” you said without hesitation and placing a more loving kiss on his lips before falling asleep, “we are…” the two of you remained like that for long after the sun rose, not even realizing when your other two teammates exposed you to the light after digging you both up. it didn’t require a rocket scientist to figure out what happened over the past six hours based on the mostly nude state of your unconscious bodies, giving them a good chuckle, something to bully both of you eternally over, and a new awakening of desire that wanted to join in on the fun lit inside of them.

[icallhimjoey]

Lost & Found

♥ ♥  Joseph Quinn x Fem!Reader    

Summary: You take a little break, a week away to somewhere warm to relax and calm your senses. So does Joe – same flight, same hotel, same travel plans and, worst of all, same suitcase. What was meant to be a lovely trip to the sun starts off on the wrong foot when you find expensive designer outfits belonging to a man in what you thought was your suitcase.    

CW / disclaimer: rpf, fem!reader, lots of swearing, we get a little spicy but nothing too bad, 18+ just in case though!    

Author’s note: so, i wrote half of this severely sleep-deprived and half of this whilst feeling unwell, so... i don't know man, i hope that i tied it all together somewhat coherent for you all and that you enjoy! comments, likes, messages, reblogs etc. all highly appreciated, thanks!

Wordcount: 4.4K

part one - part two - part three - part four - part five

The door fell into its lock behind you and the eye-contact was not something you wanted to be the first to break.

Nothing happened for a second. You just stood close in your silent hotel room and looked at each other. You tried to focus on breathing at a normal pace which seemed, no, was an impossible task.

Had you ever really noticed what Joe’s eyes looked like? 

You had.

But like this? 

Yea, you had, actually.

Hey, fuck you, don’t judge. See them up close first before calling someone crazy.

You had noticed his eyes. You’d noticed lots of things about him, but his eyes? There was something about his fucking eyes and he was looking back at you now, his moving between yours, and oh my God, how long were you just going to stare directly into each other’s eyes like this?

It was nearing uncomfortable when suddenly you saw his eyes shoot down, past your lips, down your body, and then back up.

“Do you…” Joe started, voice low and soft, but he didn’t finish the sentence. You tried guessing what it could have been, what he was about to ask, but you couldn’t think straight.

Not with Joe so close and the energy all thick and crackly.

Were you even breathing at all at this point?

Seconds passed, but it felt like minutes did when you suddenly felt how your whole body swayed forward. Nearly into him. So very nearly.

You swallowed, and then so did Joe, and why the fuck was no one doing anything?

His eyes moved again, but past you now. Over your shoulder. And then he reached. Leant closer to you as he reached an arm behind and opened the door to the bathroom. It made you step back a little, which was just right, because that was where Joe wanted you. The faint excuse of sand everywhere, of barely sunburnt pulling skin, of salty seawater that left your legs somewhat sticky, all enough to pull you into the bathroom for a shower.

No words were shared at all when you stepped inside. You watched as Joe turned the shower on, knew how it worked because his hotel room had the exact same one, and when Joe started undressing, you followed without question.

It wasn’t weird.

You tried to think of reasons of why it wasn’t weird, but you couldn’t come up with anything quick enough.

You decided that maybe you were just weird and the situation was maybe sort of the same amount of weird for everything to feel normal.

Well. Semi-normal, at least.

It was fine.

You were undressing in your bathroom and this time Joe was in the room with you instead of just outside, sat on a chair, listening carefully to make sure you didn’t collapse.

Steam started filling up the room when you stepped out of your bikini bottoms and for a second you forgot that this was likely not going to be an actual shower shower, but more just a sexy excuse to touch each other all over.

Just like you’d done the day before when Joe had been sat on a chair outside the bathroom door, you collected your bikini to rinse out in the shower.

Resourceful type of shit. Like your mother had taught you.

This time however, it wasn’t just your two-piece that you picked up off the floor; you also found Joe’s swimming shorts.

You didn’t realise that maybe this was a little strange when you stepped into the hot stream with all of it in hand and heard Joe huff in silent laughter.

“It’s just, I always, you know... to get them clean,” you said, holding all of it under the water, focussing on getting every inch of every item wet. It was nice to have a job to direct your focus, something to keep your hands and eyes busy and not, you know, with the naked man who was stood right behind you.

Your shoulders were the first thing two cold, only cold because the water was hot, large hands touched of you.

For a second you thought he was going to stop you like he would stop you from biting at your fingernails, but instead, his hands trailed up a bit until they touched your neck and then went down your back a little to the spots where he’d paid close attention to sore muscles the day before.

Pressing both thumbs into the flesh there worked like a reset button, it was almost embarrassing how fast your body folded.

Your head fell forward, and your arms dropped down. You went as lax as you could standing up still, and it got another soft chuckle from Joe.

Next thing you knew, the swimming garments were taken from your hands and hung over the glass shower screen before hands found your shoulders again. Before strong fingers pushed and kneaded the sore spots that needed it so.

Hot water.

Naked skin.

Hands doing exactly what you wanted them to.

Shit.

Yea, you'd been after intimacy, but you kind of expected that whatever you'd been after wouldn’t made you... oh, you know, feel things.

Just taking deep breaths wasn't enough to push down whatever was trying to make its way out of you.

It was confusing and silly - you wouldn't even let yourself come close to this on your own, by yourself, but now, here, completely in the nude with another person in the shower with you, this was the right time for emotions to let themselves be known?

No.

Not on your watch.

You scrunched up your forehead as much as it was willing to wrinkle from all sides, eyebrows doing the most, because if you didn’t, your lip would wobble, mouth showing all the emotions that resided on the inside. You didn’t even think they were real emotions to begin with - you were just tired. But a big pout and a quivering chin were things you couldn’t control, were things that would just do whatever by themselves and there was no stopping them. 

Couldn’t have that, could you?

So you redirected it to the top-half of your face. Sure, it made tears spill faster, but somehow that felt fine. There was water there already anyway, the shower a perfect coverup for them. You’d rather it be this. This was prettier and felt controlled, easier to hide.

It wasn’t, though.

It took no time for you to be fucking shaking all over.

Trying to control the shaking only made it worse. And it got worse fast. Especially when you turned and you saw how Joe reacted to what he saw. Copied it. Knitted his eyebrows together like yours were and created a whole crumply mess on his face and, had you mentioned his eyes already?

You had.

Fucking stunning. Absolutely beautiful.

They weren’t helping.

This was meant to be a sexy shower for fuck’s sake.

If you could just. 

Relax.

Have a drink.

Ignore whatever stirred inside.

That’d be perfect.

You took a few deep breaths through flared nostrils that you let out through your mouth and, there you went. It worked a little. Forehead stayed scrunched, just in case, but you felt yourself relax a little. Felt heavy shit ebb away a little.

“This is why, you know that, right?” 

The hurt turned into confusion. Was only a minor change.

“If you’re going to keep pushing it down, it’ll affect you physically,” 

You snorted. Hid the way you knew he was right with a laugh. Tried to turn it into jokes.

“Okay, doctor,” 

But Joe didn’t laugh. Just swiped your hair from the front of your shoulders to your back before using large palms to push it back from your face too.

“What’s plaguing you?” He spoke so softly, you barely heard it over the clatter of shower water that hit the tiles in streams from both your elbows. 

“I’m fine, it’s just… it’s just work,” 

Joe didn’t respond to your answer at all. Just kept wiping hands near your hairline, in turn smoothing out all the lines of worry you’d etched in there. It made you grab onto his wrists to stop him. 

He did stop, but didn’t move, and then you just stood like that a second with your forehead all smooth and you had to close your eyes because the shower water was running directly into them.

The fact that joe was staring down into your soul went ignored because it was just easier if you didn’t think about being so seen.

“I don’t…” you started, stupid lip wobbling once more because Joe’s hands prevented you from redirecting everything, “I don’t want to cry.” 

“If you’ve got to cry, you’ve got to cry.” 

“I’m just, I’m tired and that fucks with everything, doesn’t it?” 

You kept thinking there was going to be a moment where Joe would laugh. Chuckle or softly snicker or even exhale a little louder than usual, but he never did.

Just stayed silent.

Watched what your face did and rubbed a thumb across where he saw you try to frown.

“What if I don’t stop?” 

“Crying?”

“You didn’t come up here to have me cry in the shower for ages,” you laughed at yourself and then groaned loudly, all frustrated. “God, you must think I’m so fucking weird,”

Joe reached and had a squint at the tiny cursive letters of whatever small tube he picked up.

Shampoo.

Nice.

He flicked it open with his thumb and said, “Well, in my defence,” which made you laugh. “I never thought that the girl I met wearing my clothes wasn’t at least a little strange,”

He was right. You hadn’t once tried to sell to Joe that you were normal. Which was actually sort of perfect. Made you feel less bad about your laughter turning into a weird choked sob when Joe got started on washing your hair.

Made you feel less bad when you apologised, and Joe held your whole head, wide hands splayed fingers from your jaw back to the base of your skull, and forced eye-contact when he said to stop apologising already.

Made you feel less bad when you, through teary laughter, commented on the lack of sex appeal you'd dragged into the shower, that hadn’t been the intention at all, and Joe just said, “We got time.”

Made you feel less bad when, after Joe turned the shower off, all you wanted to do was curl into the white fluffy dressing gown and flop down onto the bed, ready to pass out.

Because you hadn’t lied. You were tired.

Joe let you nap there after watching you run your hands over the covers, murmuring something about clean sheet day before you drifted off.

And, listen.

Yea, Joe hadn’t expected for any of this week to go the way it had gone so far. He’d intended for the trip to be a little break from work, to simply get his mind off of everything going on at home by sleeping in, and by reading books, and by swimming slow laps in the hotel pool for however long he wanted.

Well.

He’d barely even touched the book he’d brought, hadn’t swam a single lap in the hotel pool but! But! Had this... had all of this not taken his mind off of everything?

It had.

Joe hadn’t thought of work, of his schedule, of auditions and of lines he had to learn - he hadn’t thought of any of that once.

And he got to help someone.

Well, not just someone.

You.

He got to make you laugh, got to make you eat, got to make you relax. Got to hold you as you slept. Got to touch you in the shower. Not... not in all the ways he’d wanted to. Yet. But he’d been forward about it. Said there was time still. Which, there was. He’d only met you three days ago, which, was that right? Joe had to count using his fingers to check, because didn’t that feel like weeks ago already?

And sure, you kept saying sorry for being a burden, kept telling him he was free to go whenever, you didn’t want to ruin his trip, you know?

But how was he going to tell you that, actually, this was exactly right for him right now? Have his focus be on someone else entirely instead of on himself for a second?

And the answers were so easy too, weren’t they? All basic shit.

You woke up about an hour later with your feet in Joe's lap, left foot in his hands, slowly kneading as he watched TV.

You looked up, stirred a little, felt a little dazed. Took you a second to realise where you were. Who was there with you. Who was holding your foot.

“Hey,” Joe smiled lazily at you, and for a second, he thought maybe this was too much. Maybe he’d overstepped. You’d fallen asleep in your bed, naked body wrapped up in fluffy white, and Joe’d just sat down next to you. Turned on the TV, volume all the way down, like he was in his own hotel room, and when you started twisting and turning a little, he’d taken hold of your feet. Hoped that his grip would ground you in some way.

He thought it had done, because for the rest of your nap you’d barely moved at all.

For about ten minutes, your feet had just laid there. On his lap. You had nice feet, Joe thought, you know, as far as feet went. Nice legs too. Bruised a bunch, sure. Scraped from where you’d fallen, kind of similar to your face, but nice none the less. Eyes traveled up more, and that’s when Joe saw.

He tried not to see. Actively tried his bestest best not to look.

You’d cried over things you didn’t know how to explain and maybe... maybe Joe should’ve left after. Or, at least, maybe Joe shouldn’t have sat down and dragged your feet onto his lap because now, one wrong move and you'd flash your full vagina for the whole room to see.

Joe could already sort of see it now anyway, but he was actively not looking and massaged a foot to keep himself busy.

Don't look, man.

Stop.

Stop looking.

It took you ages to slowly stir awake again. And what a way to wake up. What a view to wake up to.

Joe was sat against the headboard, just in his T-shirt and the remnants of a towel that had been tied around his waist before he’d sat down.

Slow and sleepy, you sat up, and it made Joe try to protect your modesty by going, “Oh, your… the dressing gown– you, it’s ridden up, it’s–”

It was of no use, because you paid your dressing gown no mind, no matter how much of you got exposed. It was time for bits being exposed, you thought.

You moved from sitting up onto your knees, feet sliding from Joe’s lap as you did, your hair all sleep-messy and eyes barely open.

“What are you…?” Joe asked softly, but didn’t finish his question because he knew exactly what you were doing as you inched closer, hands finding his shoulders to hold as your knees dented the mattress either side of him. You lowered yourself onto his lap, your warmth sinking into his, and you grinned. Hummed in satisfaction. There was plenty of fabric in between the two of you – the sheets, Joe’s towel, your dressing gown – but it was all easily removed, one simple swipe away from connecting skin to skin.

“Hi,” Joe softly whispered as you leant closer, and he seemed unsure on if he should sit up a little or not, his hands unsure of if he should touch you a little or not.

Was sort of endearing.

Man had taken a whole shower with you and now didn't know if it was all right to touch you.

So, you helped. Took hold of his hands and guided them to your waist, more towards your back, and when you leant down enough for Joe to tip his chin up and kiss you, his arms did exactly what you wanted them to do as they tightly wrapped around.

Yes.

Exactly.

This was exactly right.

You’d cried, you’d slept, you’d gotten your hair washed and you’d gotten your feet rubbed and now, you wanted to kiss the boy.

And kiss the boy you did.

Well. You kissed him for maybe three seconds. After that, the boy was kissing you.

The dressing gown was tied loosely enough for it to come undone when Joe grabbed two fistfuls of fabric at your back and had Joe not looked at your flesh for long enough now?

The feel of the bare skin of your chest was enough to quickly lose his T-shirt.

The feel of his mouth on your neck was enough to fight your way out of the dressing gown entirely.

You’d never had sex quite like it.

Quite so slow. Quite so loving and so tender, and you know you couldn't stop thinking about his eyes, but maybe Joe had to stop making so much eye-contact if he didn't want you thinking of them all the time, you know?

And Joe was just helping, wasn’t he?

Get your mind empty.

Undo you of stresses that had no right squatting in your muscles like that.

Make you feel good, the way he knew how.

Just helping.

And it did help.

Joe helped when he had almost agonisingly slow sex with you in your hotel room.

Joe helped when after, he suggested going down to his hotel room to enjoy room service in his bed, because hadn’t you said something about clean sheet day earlier?

Joe helped when he let you choose his outfit for the next day and laughed at how you kept scrunching your nose at the selection of clothing items he'd brought. Honestly, what the fuck had he been thinking?

Helped when he just smiled and shrugged and wore whatever you’d laid out for him.

Helped when he told the host downstairs at the restaurant that your seperate reservations for one were to be merged into reservations for two because you’d be having the rest of your meals together now.

Helped when he made sure you had water after having a fruity cocktail by the pool which he made you sip before helping you into the freezing water that hurt your bones, it was so cold.

Helped when he just let you hang onto him in there, arms around his neck and legs around his waist, as he waded through the water for a bit, sun on his back and bright on your face.

Helped when he searched for your wrist again in the night and felt for your pulse, and you'd gone, “You know I’m not— you don’t need to,” and Joe’d quietly replied, “No I know,” before adding, “Is just nice.”. 

Helped when he let you wear one of his jackets once more when you went for drinks up at the rooftop on your last night there and wouldn’t stop commenting on how good it looked on you on the back-end of soft sighs.

You knew just this one week away wouldn’t fix all the things wrong in your life. Knew they’d just be waiting for you when you’d get back home. But, man, spending half this trip with Joe had made you temporarily forget about a lot of the bullshit, and wasn’t that why your boss had sent you away in the first place?

Joe had helped.

The skin around your fingers had started healing enough for it to no longer look like you dipped the tips of them into acid on the reg.

Joe had helped you beyond belief.

And so when the day arrived on which you both would be going back home, an unsaid solemnity hung in the air that the both of you tried your very best to ignore.

It was okay.

You were taking the same flight home, so your time together wasn’t over when you checked out of the hotel. And you’d exchanged numbers, said you’d both be busy the second you'd set foot back in London, but you’d keep in touch. It was a casual agreement of which you knew that potentially, it’d never actually happen.

Just a polite nicety, because what kind of rude person wouldn’t say something like that after the week the two of you had had?

But you weren’t dense.

When you arrived at the airport, you had a weird sort of more heartfelt goodbye moment in the back of your shared taxi. Where there were no other people to ogle and you didn’t feel so weird because, you really weren’t anything together, the two of you, and saying goodbye at airports was an activity strictly set aside for couples, wasn’t it?

Before you moved to get out of the backseat, Joe’d knocked your knee with his to get your attention. The look in his eyes had made you use both arms in a hug that grew tighter and lasted longer than you expected it would have. Then just a peck to your cheek, followed by a quick one to your mouth and a smile.

You didn’t sit remotely close to each other on the plane, couldn’t even see each other from where you were both sat. You kind of handled it like a big girl and told yourself this was just the transition back into the real world where you didn’t know each other at all.

Your week together could just be that. Your week together. Full stop.

It took you the whole flight back to convince yourself you were okay with that.

Joe could just exist as the bits of arm and leg in the corners of pictures of cocktails and nice meals in your camera roll.

That was it.

The week was over and done and Joe was part of your past now.

Except he fucking wasn’t, was he?

You’d forgotten there was a whole airport you needed to get out of before you'd actually part ways, and you only realised that Joe would still be in your vicinity when you looked up from your phone at the baggage claim carousel and looked him right in the eye. He was stood on the other side, the very end of the round all the checked luggage made before it’d disappear and loop back again.

You couldn’t help a smile. This is where you fucked up a week ago. At the baggage claim. You’d grabbed Joe’s suitcase and he’d grabbed yours and now, here you were. Second try. Were going to get it right this time.

Joe returned your smile and it was cute. He grew bashful and looked at his feet before biting into his lip and turning himself back into waiting-man-by-baggage-carousel, face serious and a little tired from the flight. He looked just like the business man you thought he was before you’d even met him. All stern, all posh, looking out for his suitcase, just like you were looking out for yours.

It took a second for you to spot your suitcase.

When you did, your body immediately jolted into action, but a loud clearing of someone's throat stopped you.

Joe.

You looked over and saw him look directly at you, eyebrows raised slightly, slowly shaking his head no.

Confusion.

What?

But... you listened.

Let your own suitcase pass you by, and you saw something change in Joe's expression. Something a little victorious. Something a little too glad, which he tried to hide, about you not just taking what was yours and leaving the area with it.

You watched as your suitcase looped around and... no fucking way. He wouldn't. He fucking wouldn't.

Except he would.

And then, he did.

Joe took your suitcase from the rubber belt and put it down beside him. Gave you a shit eating grin when he extended the telescopic handle with loud clicks and then just... walked off with it.

Was that his? Had you just made the same dumb mistake and had you nearly reached for Joe’s suitcase again?

You looked, saw the other suitcase come your way and were quick to take it. Checked it.

No.

This one wasn’t yours. This was Joe’s.

That little shit.

Your week together wasn’t just going to be your week together, and Joe had to make sure of it. He went about it a little drastically, sure, but in his defence, when he’d thought up the idea of taking your suitcase home instead of his own, part of the plan wasn’t that you’d actually see him do it.

You were meant to just find Joe’s suitcase and not see that it wasn’t yours until you’d get home.

Maybe this was better though.

Maybe this said, “You’re mine.” more.

Maybe this said, “You were mine the moment I saw you dressed in my clothes.” more.

Something possessive and greedy about all of it, but Joe didn’t care.

He was just helping.

And he truly had helped you!

Helped in all the ways he knew how.

Just now was the time for Joe to help himself. And so he did. Joe helped himself when he signaled for you to leave your suitcase be. Helped himself when he smirked across the carousel and turned on his heel, your suitcase rolling behind him. Helped himself when he got into a taxi and waited until it got onto the road before he texted,

“Your suitcase”

Referring back to the first words you'd said to him on that weird day at the airport.

You received the message just as you stepped out of the airport yourself and couldn’t help the way you wanted to squeeze Joe’s face in both your hands, really dig your non-existent finger nails into his cheeks because he was being such an idiot. You didn't know if you wanted to scold him or tell him you loved him for the cheesiest fucking thing you'd ever see someone do.

You knew the perfect reply though.

Joe eagerly awaited your message, was hoping he was going to get what he wanted and, yes, fuck fucking yes, his grin stretched from ear to ear when he did.

“Your jacket” the end

---

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