#can i cash it in immediately if you dont mind

[lustfulslxt]

ok, hear me out. so reader decides to try out the red nail theory and shows them to matt, and he freaking adores them, but adores the marks they leave on his back even more😏😏idk if you dont wanna thats completely fine, but i just got red nails for the holidays and all i can think about is scratching up matts back...

Say Thanks - Matt Sturniolo

warnings : smut, filthy matthew

—

It’s been a while since I’ve gotten my nails done, and I so badly want to go get them done right now. However, bills exist and with my roommate moving out, everything’s been piled on top of me all at once. It’s stressful to say the least, but I just need to find my footing. It’s not that I can’t afford it, I just have a really bad spending habit, that I didn’t realize is an actual issue until a couple of weeks ago. I used to just work, pay my portion of the bills, save a bit of money, then blow the rest of it on whatever I wanted. Now, I just have to learn to budget.

Saying that, I’ve not really been going out of my way to splurge on things that make me feel good. I’ll get back to eventually, but unfortunately, I can’t afford to right now.

Despite knowing that I should focus on getting my money right, I can’t help but look into my spare cash, crossing my fingers in hopes that I have enough. Before I can even begin counting, my phone flashes and vibrates, indicating I have a new notification.

Matt sent you $100 for your nails❣️.

My eyes widen, a gasp leaving my mouth as I read the words displayed on the screen. Immediately, I’m facetiming Matt.

“Hey.” He answers, instantly, a knowing grin on his lips.

“Don’t ‘hey’ me mister. Why did you just send me money?” I question, glaring at him through the screen.

“Hmm. I’m pretty sure I said it’s for your nails.” He answers, then continues, “You can say you don’t need it all you want, but I know how bad you’ve been wanting to get them done. And if you haven’t, then you just can’t right now. Which is why I wanna do it for you.”

“Matt-“

He cuts me off, “Y/N, shut up and accept my offering. Come over after you get them done?”

“Fine.” I sigh, giving in.

“Great, I can’t wait to see them. Maybe then you can show me just how thankful you are.” He suggests, his lips wide with a smirk.

My jaw drops at his proposal, completely bewildered at his comment, the underlying meaning far from missed. I can’t help but bite my lip as I look away from the screen, my skin ultimately flushing.

“I already scheduled your appointment with Analysse. She’ll be there in fifteen. I expect to see you no later than an hour and a half.” He informs me.

“Yes sir.” I say, unable to prevent the smile that pulls itself to my lips. “Thanks, Matty.”

“Of course, doll. I’ll see you soon.”

With that, we hang up and I’m left to sit in my puddle of confusion and eagerness. Matt and I are only friends. There’s always times where we’re flirty and we’ve always been close, physical touch being our love language. However, his actions and statements today threw me for a loop. I’m sure I’m not misinterpreting it, he seemed very suggestive. Honestly, I don’t even mind that, I just don’t know if he’s only messing with me or if he’s serious. I guess I’ll find out soon enough.

“Hey babe, how are you doing?” Analysse greets me, unpacking her supplies.

“I’ve been good, just learning to adjust to new things. How have you been? I feel like it’s been ages since I last seen you.” I reply, sitting on the opposite side of the desk.

“I know! It’s been so long! I’ve been great though. Just living life and doing what I love.” She nods, a smile blossoming on her face.

“That’s amazing, I’m glad to hear.”

“Thank you. So, what are we thinking?” She asks me, all her supplies laid out in front of us.

“Probably just a simple red, maybe like medium length. Hm, not too long but long enough to leave marks.” I explain, smirking at the thought of digging my nails into Matt’s back.

“Ouu, okay.” She giggles, grabbing my hands to prep my nails. “So, are we talking about Matt? I mean, he is the one that reached out to me to book this appointment for you.”

I can’t help the warmth that rushes to my cheeks, “Yeah, I’ve been wanting to get my nails done again. Life just hasn’t been working in my favor.” She nods in understandment, listening to me rant. “Let’s just say, he’s got me thinking about a lot.”

Her mouth opens, laughter pouring out of it, “Oh, I get you. We’ve all had one of those.”

We continue talking and sharing stories as she does my nails. The conversation goes from boys, to makeup, to careers, to food, and just about everything under the sun. Once she’s done, I pay and tip her, and bid her on her way.

Since I still have some time before I have to be over at Matt’s, I decide to take a shower to freshen up. Seeing as I really only had around an extra thirty minutes, I decide to make it quick. I swiftly wash up and rinse off, hurrying out to dry off and get dressed. After applying deodorant and lotion, I slip on my shoes and grab my phone and keys, then I’m out the door.

It only takes me eight minutes to get to Matt’s house, so when I arrive, I’m eagerly making my way inside. We’ve been friends for eons, hence why I have my own key. Upon walking in, I instantly make my way upstairs and head back to his room. As soon as I open his door, his attention is on me.

“You’re late.” He states, his voice stern.

“Only by four minutes.” I shrug, joining him on his bed.

“Four minutes is still late.” He points out, raising an eyebrow at me.

“Won’t happen again, I promise.” I grin, tossing my hands up in defense.

He doesn’t say anything, only smirks as he grabs my hands to observe the nails he paid for. He plays with my fingers, looking at each individual nail, as if inspecting to see if there were any flaws. They were perfect.

“I love them, they look good.” He tells me, his voice now husky.

I look from my hands to his face, his eyes already being on me. His hands never leave my own, his warm fingers brushing back and forth over mine. The intensity of his stare has me clenching my thighs together in need. I don’t knew where this is coming from, but I want him bad.

“They’d look even better wrapped around my cock.” He whispers, his voice deep and raspy, placing one of my hands on his lap.

Only then, did I notice the growing bulge beneath his pants. His cargos now restricting his hard on, keeping it caged in below the fabric. I could feel him pulsating through the clothing, his erection rock solid. My mouth opened and close, suddenly unable to find words to speak.

“Don’t you want to show me how grateful you are?” He taunts, his gaze unwavering.

“Did you have a favor in mind?” I ask, licking my lips as I attempt to swallow in hopes of lubricating my now dry throat.

“Mhm.” He hums, standing up from the bed. He stands directly in front of me, his hands slowly working his belt off. “I want your pretty little mouth around my cock.”

I could feel my underwear becoming more and more soaked, my arousal seeping out of my pussy, completely and utterly turned on. His hand reaches my chin, gripping my jaw as he pulls me up from the bed, before dropping me to my knees. His thumb rubs against my lips before forcing itself in my mouth. I suck on it, my mouth immediately salivating from this situation I find myself in. He removes his thumb, dragging it down my bottom lip, letting it bounce back up as he moves to remove his shirt. I watch in awe, his lean torso flexing with every movement. Next, he unbuttons his pants. Once he pulls them and his boxers down, his dick slaps up, bouncing off of his lower abdomen. I’ve never been this intimate with Matt, meaning I’ve never seen his dick before, and boy was it something.

“Like what you see, pretty girl?” He teases, his hand engulfing his shaft and jerking it a couple of times. “Get over here and make me feel good until I say you can stop.”

I can’t help but frantically nod, instinctively scooting closer to him, eager to take his member into my mouth. One of his hands goes around my head, entangling in my hair, while the other one takes his dick and slaps it onto my lips, leaving drops of his precum behind. My tongue immediately flicks over my lips, taking the traces of him into my mouth, leaving him to toss his head back as a groan leaves his throat.

“Open.” He states, his hand pulling my jaw down.

As soon as my lips are parted wide enough, he’s shoving his entire length down my throat, pulling a gag from me. From his rough thrusts, my mouth is producing enough saliva to coat his dick, strings of spit connecting him to me once he pulls out. He then sets his tip on my lips, nodding at me to get to work, so I do.

My tongue swirls around his head, licking over his slit, causing him to tighten his grip in my hair and involuntarily buck his hips, his dick prodding at my mouth from the movement. I wrap my lips around him once more, my tongue continuously twirling around him, before taking as much as I could of him into my mouth, using my hands on the rest of him that wouldn’t fit. Peering up at him through my eyelashes, I see his brows furrowed in pleasure, his bottom lip held between his teeth.

“Fuck. You’re so pretty, doll.” He moans, running a hand across my cheek. “Sucking me so good, baby.”

I hum around his length, accepting his praise. Throaty moans continue to escape his mouth, encouraging me more as the desire in me burns hotter. I pull away from him completely, then take all of him in my mouth, deep throating him as much as I can without dying. His free hand wraps around my throat, making the feeling of his dick going down my throat all the more noticeable. He starts thrusting, matching my speed, his hips now sputtering as more lewd sounds come from his mouth.

He quickly pulls away, tugging me back by his grip on my hair. “Strip.”

I eagerly obliged, nerves building in my stomach, anticipating what’s to come. It didn’t take long for me to remove my outer clothing, leaving me in my bra and panties as his hungry eyes bore into me.

“Strip.” He repeats, his tone more demanding.

Without breaking eye contact, I reach back and unclasp my bra, letting it fall down my arms before falling to the floor with other clothes. The cool air hit my nipples, the buds hardening in response. I watch as Matt’s eyes follow my every move, soaking in every gesture. My fingers slip in the waistband of my panties, slowly tugging them downwards as I continue shimmying out of them, kicking them off my feet. Matt’s hand is now around his cock, stroking it as he watches me, intently.

“My turn.” He whispers, pulling me against him, skin to skin.

His mouth meets mine in a hot kiss, excitement bubbling between us. He walks me a few steps backwards, pushing me back on his bed and climbing on top of me. Our lips lap one another’s, before he’s shoving his tongue in my mouth, exploring behind my lips. We move together in such a hot and steamy way, his hands touching every part of me as my hands lace through his hair. His mouth then moves down my jaw, dragging open mouth kisses across my skin, leaving a trail saliva in his wake. My breathing was heavy, small whimpers coming through as he sucks and nibbles my sweet spot.

His hands then intertwine with mine, bringing my fingertips to his lips, pressing soft kisses against them. “I can’t wait to see the damage you do with these.”

He starts kissing down my chest, keeping his hands interlocked with mine. His mouth nips and bites at my skin, goosebumps spreading over me. He takes my nipple into his mouth, twirling his tongue around it, his teeth grazing over it, causing a sharp gasp like moan to come from my mouth. He moves on to the next one, repeating the same action. My legs squeeze shut, attempting to relieve the tension that keeps building and building with every little thing.

“Matt, please.” I whisper, attempting to grind against him for friction, to which he only presses his hands onto my hips to hold me in place.

“Shh, baby.” He mutters against my skin, lowering himself to my navel, his tongue leaving a stripe of spit.

His mouth meets my thighs, going back and forth between the two, peppering wet kisses all over them. His half lidded eyes meet mine, a smirk making its way to his face as he blew air onto my center, causing me to thrash beneath him. Instantly, his tongue is between my folds, pulling a loud moan from me as my hands return to his hair, tugging ever so slightly. He licks up and down my core, sucking all of my juices along the way. His tongue prods at my entrance, poking in and out, before he goes back up and wraps his lips around my clit.

“F-fuck, feels so good, Matty.” I whimper, thrusting my hips up for more.

His hands press down on my hips again, his grip now tight, holding me in place. His mouth continues lapping me, his tongue flicking every which way, bringing me closer to the edge. One of his hands leave my waist, his fingers meeting my heat. He slides them up and down, lubricating them before pressing two of them into my entrance. A loud moan falls from my mouth, my body jerking as he begins fucking me with his fingers. His mouth focuses on my clit, sucking with his warm tongue continuously flicking over it. His fingers pumping in and out of me, my arousal evident from the sounds emitting from my core and my mouth.

“I’m so close.” I moan out, pushing down into him.

Unfortunately, he pulls away, completely removing himself from me, a whine of desperation coming from my lips. He hovers back over me, his mouth pressing onto mine, my juices traveling from his mouth to mine as he kisses me hard.

“We’re gonna cum together, princess.” He says, one of his hands holding himself up as his other one rubs his dick up and down my folds.

I can’t help the gentle shaking of my thighs, my hole clenching around nothing as my eyes beg him to fuck me. Without words, he grants my wishes, slowly sinking his cock into me. Low moans escape both of our mouths as he bottoms out, my eyes closing in pleasure as he tosses his head back one again. My arms wrap around him, pulling him closer to me.

“I just knew you’d feel so good, baby.” He groans, his thrusts slow, yet hard. “So wet and warm, and tight around my cock.”

His thrusts remain slow, but not too slow, as he continues digging into me, hitting exactly where I need him.

“Oh, Matt.” I moan out, my face contorting in pure bliss as I drag my hands down his back.

He lets out more groans, enjoying everything about this moment. Instantly, I could feel the knot forming in the pit of my stomach, close to snapping from the building pressure. He picks up his pace, increasing the strength of his thrusts. His hand meets my center once again, rubbing tight circles onto my clit, ripping another moan from me.

“You look like a dream.” He moans out, his eyes never leaving mine. “I can see your close, baby.”

Words stuck in my throat, I’m left nodding my head, nothing but incoherent sounds coming from my mouth as I dig my nails into his back. His lips slam onto mine, bringing me into a passionate kiss, swallowing every noise that emits from me. His tongue roams my mouth again, quickly and eagerly, as if he can’t get enough. As he pulls away, he drags my bottom lip out in between his teeth.

“Cum with me, doll.” He groans, his finger on my clit applying more pressure.

And just like that, the knot snapped, unraveling, and I was letting go all over him, eliciting pornographic moans from my mouth. He followed seconds after, his dick twitching inside of me as his load spurts out. He continues pumping, fucking both of us through our orgasms, pushing our cum deeper into me with every thrust. Stilling for just a moment, he then slowly pulls out and lies beside me, both of our breaths erratic from the exertion.

“If this is what I get as a thank you, I’ll gladly pay for your nails every single time.” He chuckles, grinning over at me.

I laugh, rolling my eyes at him, pushing him away. He smirks, before starting to put his clothes back on, so that he could start us a shower. As soon as I catch glimpse of his back, a gasp leaves my mouth, causing him to turn around with raised eyebrows.

“What?” He asks, expectantly.

“Your back is fucked.” I laugh, covering my mouth, grabbing his phone from the nightstand.

I motion for him to turn around so that I can take a picture. Once I do, he grabs his phone from me and smirks at the picture, pleased with the aftermath of our moment together. He does some typing on his phone before tossing it back down and leaving the room. I pick his phone back up and see that he made a new post on snapchat.

After clicking on it, my mouth dropped, “Matt!”

—

a/n : here ya go! sorry for the delay, i’ve been lacking inspiration and motivation. i hope you enjoy it, and apologies if this isn’t what you had in mind. send in more reqs pls, love you 🫶🏼

[twagoes]

my boyfriend rating hugs other men could give me | richie jerimovich x reader

-> want to note that this was written with a male reader in mind and there are words used to describe a man used when describing reader. if you don’t like that…obviously dont read it lmao

cws: age gap relationship (richie is likee 45 and readers age wasnt stated, but i imagine mid 20s), cursing, unserious jealousy and more unseriousness aggressive protectiveness. and yeah, that’s all i can think of rn….

“what are you filming me for?” richie’s gruff voice is loud and booming and he just sounds immediately fed up with whatever you have planned. but he only sounds like that. you know him well enough to know he doesn’t actually care that much about your phone being in his face. he’s gotten a lil used to you always coming up to him for new content for your tiktok account.

“can we film a tiktok?”

“another fucking tiktac, i don’t know what it up with your obsession with that app, but no-“

“i promise it’ll be really funny,” you pout, hugging his arm and he’s already sighing knowing he’s lost the debate. not that he even minds filming one, it’s just, he really doesn’t get it. is he entertaining or something? why are you coming up to him every other week with new content? do you have a lot of followers or something? regardless, then he’d be lying if he didn’t feel a sense of pride whenever you’d ask him to be in one of your videos — as if it’s the highest honor.

he, obviously, doesn’t know you two had recently gone viral and you were making some good cash off of that video.

so to milk the content as well as just wanting to see his genuine reaction, you drag him to the couch and force him to lay down. he gets cozy quickly, sighing and holding his arms open for you to lay in. you take your place by his side and show him your phone screen. it’s already recording.

“alright, say who you are-“

“why do i gotta do that? is this going to people we know? do your followers not already know me?” he asks, looking at you incredulously, “i’m your boyfriend slash fiance slash love of your life slash only man that you know, there’s an introduction. richie, by the way,”

you laugh at his tone and antics, knowing that this video was already going to be good.

“okay, so basically, we are gonna be rating different types of hugs,” he nods in understanding, leaning his head over yours as he stares at the phone that’s filming everything, “so it’s 10 is the worst hug, 1 is the best,”

“okay, sounds simple enough, let’s get it going,” he says, rolling his wrist, as if saying to speed up the process.

“the thing is: you’re rating hugs that other girls or guys would give me,”

that has him lifting his head off of yours and looking down at you, not watching your phone screen anymore.

“babe, what the fuck? no? what the fuck does that even mean?” his chicago accent is thick as he lays on all these questions for you, “why would you even be going around hugging other guys? this sounds stupid,”

“if it’s stupid, let’s just do it quickly then,” you persist, rubbing his scruff with your hand and forcing his face to look back at the camera, “richie, swear it’s only gonna take a couple seconds,”

“nah, you just wanna see me pissed off cause you like that shit,” he smirks, but he’s still seemingly not willing, “why do i have to do this again?”

“because you love me, c’mon, please,” you beg and he’s staring at you unimpressed for a couple of seconds before groaning, rolling his eyes, and making a whole dramatic show of how he doesn’t want to do this. all before cozying back up next to you and letting you put the filter on.

“i swear to god if there’s some dumb ass shit on here, i’m leaving,” he warns, but you don’t take it too seriously as you grin and reposition the camera to have the filter on him. “okay, fine, so one is the worst and ten is the best?”

“no, no, babe, it’s the other way around,” you correct him softly, watching the filter go through all the options above his head.

“wait, that doesn’t make fucking sense?” he says, face screwing up, “wouldn’t it make sense that one is the worst because, it being at the top is, like, top tier worst hug ever, like i’m killing a guy because of it,”

“richie, richie, look it’s already going,”

he grumbles before looking at the screen and squinting when he sees what it’s landed on, reading it slowly, “the fuck is a catcher hug?” he looks at you repeatedly, up and down as if he’s accusing you of something, “you let other guys catch you and hug you? this is what you let happen when i’m not around?”

you break out into laughter at how serious he’s taking it, shaking your head no and urging him to answer, but he’s still interrogating you, “no, no, like actually what the fuck is this? obviously that’s the worst,” you laugh again, knowing that there is arguably worse than that in the filter, “that shit is easily a ten, i don’t care. who the fuck else is gonna catch you besides me? oh right, no one!”

you nod along with him, tapping the slot of ten and waiting for the next one. he leans his head against yours, lips in a tight line as he waits.

“okay, this one is…self hug! okay, this one is good,”

“yeah, i like that one, don’t go hugging other people - you got yourself. put it at one, babe,” he says, kissing the top of your head with a smile. it was funny how quickly his mood changed, “okay, maybe this shit isn’t that bad.”

the filter goes again and you’re surprised to see the more tame options.

“classic hug is a classic hug, nothing’s wrong with it,” he muses, looking at the empty list and easily placing it at 2, “better if there’s no hugging like that self hugging shit, but whatever.”

he taps the slot and waits the next one.

“oh, shit, i like this game, side hug is a solid 3,” he laughs, very happy with how this is going, “but if they’re taller than me, they can suck my balls. no guy taller than me can be side hugging you, it’s basically cheating,”

“baby, no one else is taller than you,” you softly whisper earning a hum of approval from him.

“strangle hug? i like this one too, but it should be you strangling them so they, y’know-” he cuts his hand over his neck in a motion that makes you smack him for being so explicit, but he sees nothing wrong with it, “uh, yeah, that’s the best case scenario. that or i’m doing it for ‘em. i’m gonna put it at 4, just cause it’ll mean they di-“

“alright! richie, relax, next one, oh my god,”

“one armed hug? uhm, huh…i don’t like this one, it’s too comfortable, y’know? i always have my arm around you, it’s kinda like that. it’s weird if someone else does it to you,” he cringes at the idea of it and then taps his finger to seven, “yeah, no that shit is weird and i’m killing whoever does that shit to you,”

“richie, please, you’re not killing anyone,”

“uh, yeah, i’m killing the motherfucker that gives you a one arm hug. the fuck?”

you laugh and hug his waist, eagerly waiting for the next one. and finally, an interesting one came up.

“uh, what the fuck am i looking at, [name]?” his voice raises ever so slightly and he’s looking back and forth between you and the screen, “you hugging other guys — at the waist? what the actual fuck is this?” you laugh at his dramatic question, “no, nothing is funny, what the fuck? ew, why are they posed like that — making all that eye contact and shit. fuck, no, [name], that shit should be a twenty.”

“so, nine?”

“yeah, cause i got no other fucking choice,” he says, in a matter a fact voice.

the next one makes you burst out in laughter, “pick pocket hug? a pick pocket hug?!” he anunciates each word as if its his last, blinking repeatedly at you, “what the fuck, babe? no, that’s an eight! the drawings have their hands inside of each other’s assholes! look!”

“no, they don’t! it’s just, like, on the butt…?”

“oh, so you’re defending this?”

“shut up, i’m just saying, what you said is a little of an exaggeration,”

“no, it’s not, that’s basically butt sex — and you can’t have butt sex with anyone but me!”

”obviously, richie, but it’s just like hypothetically!”

“even hypothetically!” he stubbornly calls out, eyebrows raised in disbelief. ”let’s just get all this shit over and done with, please, i‘m growing gray hairs over this,”

“next is…cuddle…”

“you’re literally just cheating on me, you’re cheating on me,” he accuses you and you know he’s (half) joking and teasing, but with the look in his eyes and tone of his voice, anyone would think he was serious. which is why you’re laughing so hard, “you are fucking cuddling with another man, how the fuck do i make this a ten? this shit is terrible, that’s the worst ever, babe!” you’re still laughing and he’s shaking you back and forth, “where the fuck am i supposed to put that?”

with 5 and 6 being the only ones left, he has to settle for tapping 6 and cursing under his breath the entire time.

“no fucking way you’re ever cuddling with someone else, that’s a sacred thing, y’know? meant for people that are dating — wouldn’t even let you cuddle with cousin, shit is nasty.”

“i know, baby, i wouldn’t cuddle with anyone else but you anyway,” you kiss his cheek before looking back at your screen and waiting to see the last one.

“man, i fucking hate this game,” he groans, seeing he has to now put an eye to eye hug at number 5. “first of all, who the fuck is hugging eye to eye anyway?! second of all, why are you even doing all that?” he’s asking as if you’re actually doing this other people, “looking into their eyes and shit, fucking a little creepy, hello!”

“so you don’t mind it being a five?”

“fuck that shit, that shit is definitely a ten, but well, there’s nothing i can do about it now!” he looks flabbergasted at the whole “dilemma”, running a hand over his short hair, “fucking, what the hell, why are you hugging other guys like that, baby? really? why you gotta have-“

“i’m not actually doing any of this, richie,” you defend yourself, but your boyfriend just mocks your reply with ease, making you smack his chest.

“no, my man isn’t allowed to hug other people, so all of that shit is a hard ten. i’ve changed my mind,” he finalizes, now speaking to the camera. you’re satisfied with that ending, hitting the button to stop the recording and bringing your phone down to your eye level.

“thank you for entertaining me, richie,” you murmur against his skin, now watching over the video and smiling to yourself at the result, “you’re adorable,” you kiss his chest through his hoodie and he just squeezes you tighter.

“most annoying one you’ve asked me to film yet, can’t believe that’s even a thing,” he leans his cheek onto the top of your head and rests there comfortably while you both watch over the video, “hey, you’d never let another guy catch you in a hug, right?”

you laugh, looking up at him and playing with his short stubble, “never, baby, that’s why i got you,”

“damn straight,” he murmurs, leaning down and kissing you softly, “tell all your silly followers that we’re married while you’re at it,”

“they’re not the ones hugging me like that, richie,” you chuckle, but don’t miss a beat in making the caption something adjacent to what he had told you.

“so there’s other people hugging you like that, though?”

“no? oh my god, you’re giving me a headache,”

“and you’ve just broken my heart, so well, fuck both of us then.”

that night your tiktok blew up and a lot of people were commenting over how cute your guys’ relationship is and how entertaining richie is, as well as cutely, aggressively protective. you made it up to him by buying him dinner with the money you had made off of the video, to which he half-heartedly said, “if that shit gets us to eat dinner like this every week, doll, i’ll film all the tiktacs you want,” and he’s sealing that promise with a kiss.

-

“awww, old man richie still gets a lil jealous <333”

“literally the cutest couple ever, i was waiting for you to get him to hop on this trend!!”

“not the death threat over the one arm hug LMAOAO”

“richie does nooott play, swear to god i’ve heard rumors he always stay strapped im ltr deeaaadddd”

[luvhughes43]

Omg I need a little blurb of jealous Blake immediately. Like her just getting mad and storming off and of course her brothers are confused on why she got up and left

there was no real reason for blake to be jealous. she knows nico would never try anything, least with the waitress right in front of her and her brothers. but there was a pain lodging itself in her throat, annoyance in her narrowed eyes as the pretty waitress put her hand on nico's shoulder with a laugh.

nico smiles politely and rolls his shoulder back so the girl would get the hint. she doesn't.

"oh my god," blake mumbles under her breath and jack turns to face her.

"you okay?" he nods his head at her, and she glares. "what'd i do?"

blake sighs deeply, watching the scene unfold in front of her. "just a water, please" nico's voice cuts through her thoughts, and the brunette pats his shoulder again before looking towards blake.

she doesn't even bother saying any words - only offering a simple glance in blakes direction. "yeah, i'll get a water too," blakes forces a smile and the waitress mindlessly hums before turning her attention back to the guys.

the rest of dinner follows a similar path. the waitress coming over and checking on the table every time she passes by - which seems excessive to blake but nobody else seems to mind.

"is it just me or does she keep coming over here?" blake asks, not even trying to mask her annoyance as she sees the waitress slide through her peripheral.

"thats her job," quinn replies, not realizing the fire in his sisters eyes.

"yeah, obviously," she waves her hand. "but she keeps touching nico, it's weird,"

"i didn't even notice," jack pipes up between mouthfuls of fries.

"i think youre imagining things blakey," luke speaks, casting his gaze towards nico who looks torn.

a part of their... situation? was to not tell blakes brothers that they were seeing each other. so how was he supposed to calm his girl down? nico slides his leg further under the table, letting his shoe graze the feet opposite him.

"who's playing footsies?" jack asks, swiftly kicking nico's foot away from his own.

"fuck," nico swears under his breath.

"can i get you guys anything else?" the voice asks again as blake pulls her wallet out.

"yeah, the bill," she spits out, dropping her wallet onto the table with a clatter.

"no more refills?" she smiles sweetly at nico who's busy rubbing at his ankle.

"uh- no -"

blake flashes her card at the waitress, and drops cash for her tip. "we're ready to go,"

"i'm not done eating yet," jack announces. "yeah and i want dessert," luke adds.

"take it to go," blake sasses to her brothers faces, and when she turns around to hand her card to the waitress shes touching nico again.

blakes eyes flash and before she knows it shes shoving her chair back and grabbing her things.

"why are you in such a rush?" quinn calls after her once she turns away, everyone at the table watching her obliviously.

"did she say she had somewhere to be?" jack asks the remaining group, and the waitress finally removes her hand off nicos shoulder.

"i'll go ask," nico supplies, fishing out his own card to hand to the waitress. once everything ordered and paid, nico makes his way outside to find blake sulking in the parking lot.

"i'm going crazy, you know?" she states, crossing her arms over her chest like a child. "theres something about other girls touching you that just... i cant even describe it,"

"jealously?" nico supplies, pulling blake under his arm and into his side. he glances back towards the restaurant and make sure her brothers arent on their way out, before dropping a soft kiss to her forehead.

blake sighs, "i dont wanna be jealous,"

"i think you've always been a little jealous," nico smirks. "remember when we weren't together and you stormed out of the holiday party,"

blake grimaces. "i swear i used to be normal. you drive me crazy,"

nico hums and pulls blake even closer. "i think its hot,"

"it's embarrassing. we're telling my brothers about us soon," she replies, leaning up and pressing a kiss firmly on nico's chin.

"telling us what?" luke yells from across the parking lot, and blake and nico spring apart.

"that youre paying for dinner next," blake shouts back. it was going to be a long few weeks until blake got the courage to talk to her brothers about her relationship.

-

-

-

[drdemonprince]

ive seen you talk about FIRE/mr money moustache and i am interested in how you balance that with your politics. i ask because i am also interested in FIRE but struggle with the idea of saving 2mil+ to retire early when people need money NOW to survive. not just broadly but even loved ones and community members in my immediate vicinity. i dont mean this in an EXPLAIN YOURSELF sort of way, just so many of the FIRE etc people i find writing about it dont really address this aspect and its something i struggle with internally myself.

Sure, I don't mind speaking about this at all. I wish I more frequently had the occasion to because it's a major special interest of mine.

First, I'm not interested in the saving 2 million dollars (if that were even feasible) school of financial independence/ retire early. I'm more of an adherent to the r/LeanFire, r/BaristaFire type approach of maintaining a consistently very frugal standard of living that is sustainable for me, on a relatively smaller savings, and pursuing a life of relatively little consumption.

I also think that MMM, despite his many flaws, is broadly accurate in stating that when people continuing working all their lives, they also create more ecological devastation by consuming a whole of a hell lot more resources on convenience and burning more fuel, while chasing after a steadily rising living standard set by the norms of their profession. By taking myself out of the workforce sooner rather than later, I will be contributing less to climate change and waste because I'll need fewer convenience meals, fewer car rides, fewer flights, fewer hotel rooms, fewer fancy professional clothes, and so on and so on.

I also spend a lot of time on the Socially Conscious Mustachians group on Facebook, which focuses on investing one's savings in ways that are less ethically problematic. The easy mode version of this is simply putting one's money into index funds that exclude oil companies, gun manufacturers, etc. But honestly, today, with interest rates being as high as they are? It's pretty easy to just sock one's money into a CD or a bond, collect the cool 5.4% interest, and avoid having to contribute to the stock market directly at all. There are even high-yield savings accounts at credit unions that pay out about that much interest these days, and those entities typically do not invest in oil pipelines, BDS targets, or anything all that objectionable.

As for the hoading money while others are in need piece: Well. yeah. that's a difficult ethical challenge that we all must consider. how much can i hold onto for my own wellbeing in the spirit of "putting on one's oxygen mask first" without it being wealth hoarding? how much should i give to other people when i see that they are in need --someone could easily make the case that I have the moral obligation to give away what i have to my very last cent, and I couldn't really argue with them on that. maybe a person should do that. but i'm not going to do it. and of course the effective altruism freakos would counter that if i invest my money and grow it now, i will have more to give to others in the long run than if i cash out now.

realistically, i won't be able to continue working for much longer without having another health episode or worse. i will not qualify for disability benefits because high maskers who have had careers usually do not. and social security's coffers will be entirely drained long before i reach the age to qualify for it. if i enter my non-working years without any resources, someone else will have to worry about me staying housed and medicated and fed.

i tend to think of my retire early stash as my own little private disability benefits fund that will allow me to live safely and will hopefully allow me to take care of other people that i love as we age, and that will give me the freedom from having to do any morally compromising capitalist labor ever again, and only put my energies towards causes that either fulfill me or benefit others.

but it's still rooted in a highly individualistic capitalist system, this holding onto money under my own name and investing it thing. im sure a lot of people would choose instead to sock all of their money into some kind of cooperatively owned communist farm or something, and you know, some day down the line i would love to put money toward a big multi unit building that lots of people i am in community with could live in, with no financial obligations for them. but i dont have anywhere near that kind of scratch. as hannibal buress (that landlord piece of shit) said, "i don't have fuck you money, i have strongly worded email money." and you know, being able to write a strongly worded email to people who would otherwise be exploiting me into another huge burnout does feel good.

thinking that one day i might not work anymore is one of the only things that keeps me going. i am always on the razor's edge of not functioning, i dont think people really realize that, how could they, the mask is there to prevent them seeing it. im beyond privileged to even get to CONSIDER the dream of getting by on my savings for however long human society continues to exist. and it sure would be better if i could extend that kind of freedom and peace of mind to others. my life still feels very precarious and it always has and ive had to be stable for the sake of others for a long time, ive had to be financially responsible for others for a long time. i cling to the idea of FI/RE because it offers me a way to finally break down and be weak. but something more community oriented and interdependent would sure as fuck be better. in the meantime i guess im saving for something like that i could trust enough to give myself over to.

i also have a really strong fetishistic desire to be someone's completely brainwashed sex pet for the entire rest of my life, and having an early retirement account would really help me facilitate that

[tachimichishrine]

"first time"

⫭◦⨝◦⫬

virgin!tachihara michizou x fem! reader

▸◃▵pt 1 // pt 2 // pt 3▵▹◂

warnings: nsfw ; car sex ; drug + alcohol use ; power sub! reader ; masturbation (f) ; intended lowercase ; cursing ; giving him black hair bc i can ; i wanna ruin this man so badly you dont understand

your body slumped against the hood of the car, his own doing the same thing next to you; backs on metal and faces pointed towards the stars. tachihara puffed out a cloud of smoke, flashing you a grin that dropped once you one-upped him by stealing his and blowing out an expertly crafted ring. you tried giggling, but your own coughs interrupted rudely.

you didn't know what time it was. you and your little gang of misfits had broken into a bank earlier today, and blew almost all your cash immediately. the life of crime never weighed on your conscious, you'd been doing this for years and the thrill of the adrenaline rush was all you cared about. it was nice, too, having friends with which you were close and could place your trust.

tachihara was new though. you could barely remember how he introduced himself or found you, but after the first time he busted open a safe without lifting a finger you knew he was sent from a higher being.

everyone else had left the empty parking lot, gone to do who knows what and leaving you here all alone with your little safecracking prodigy. the car whose hood you were sitting on wasn't yours, obviously, but the cool metal radiating through your thin clothes onto your skin was a refreshing contrast to the warm liquid you'd downed earlier. not too much tonight, you promise each other. you had all the time in the world, just you him and the night sky.

"it's fuckin' freezing," he grumbled, earning him another giggle.

"it's not that cold," you retorted, despite a hand wrapping around his shoulders to pull his back into your chest. his strands of black poked at your ticklish neck, and you had to run your fingers through them to tame the locks a little. "better?"

he didn't respond. you cautiously took a look at his face to see if he was okay, noticing that he clearly was not because his cheeks had never been this red before. you couldn't tell whether the shaking of his hands was due to the cold or your actions.

"woah, you okay?" you asked verbally, shifting slightly on the car so that you were more comfortable with his weight on you. "you that touch starved or somethin'?"

truth is, he was. but it was about a hundred times worse that he could feel your tits pressing up on him and the blunt he was smoking wasn't helping to calm his heart down. somehow he still managed a relaxed response. "nah, it's fine, I'm just fucking cold."

"mhm." you didn't sound convinced. just to tease him further, you took your icy fingertips, dragged them down to the hem of his shirt and slid them under. he let out a disgruntled protest as you felt up his warm abdomen and drew circles on the taught skin.

"hey, the fuck are you doin'?" he grumbled, but his voice was dragged out and tired.

"well I was gonna warm you up but you're a goddamn radiator," you murmured into his ear. "shit you're right, it is cold. you wanna hook up in the car?"

his eyes nearly bulged out of his head, his body tensing. "what?"

"just a quickie," you reassured him, making it clear that it didn't have to mean anything more than that, "and we can head out afterwards."

his mind was mildly foggy, but every cold breath of the wind on his face sobered him up. clearly not enough, though, since he was pretty sure you'd just straight up asked him to have sex like it was nothing. by the way you were saying it, it might as well have been for you.

"tachi, ya still with me there?" you snapped your fingers in front of his face to bring him back, assuming the chemicals he'd inhaled were acting up.

he cleared his throat, a soft cough in the process. "yeah, yeah, I just... y'know what, it's nothin'..."

it took a few subtle hints to catch onto his discomfort: his muscles were contracting under your touch to his skin, he was shifting on the car to slightly lift himself off of you, not to mention that his face was practically glowing red. you were still fluffing his hair, and yanked it downwards so you could catch a glimpse of his amber gaze.

"holy shit, are you a virgin?"

"what? of course I'm not, why would you say that?" he grumbled angrily, pushing himself off of you to sit upright on the hood of the car, but the way he said it sounded like he was incredibly embarrassed. you didn't mean to giggle at him for that once you took another drag and blew a cloud into his face playfully.

"can't say I'm not surprised," you mused, a smirk on your face that scared him a little. you moved yourself closer to him, leaning in closely as you whispered softly. "you wanna change that?"

he was young, stupid and reckless. that was his excuse for letting his body get the better of his head and letting you drag him to the side of the car and shove your tongue down his throat rather aggressively. his head leaned back, he completely let go of control just to feel your lips on him, whispering just how badly you want to ruin him. your thigh slotted between his legs as your hips rocked slowly to get him to grind up against you.

despite being so eager to have him stretch you out, you murmured into his lips. "are you sure about this?"

to show you that he was, his grip on your waist led him to pushing your bodies off of the vehicle for a few seconds while he somehow unclicked the metal locks from the inside and the door opened by itself. you didn't question how he did what he did, instead stepping out of your pants and throwing him onto the backseat. to fit inside, he had to bend his legs after you'd climbed on top of him and slammed the door shut behind you.

"I'll take it easy," you promised, although your facial expression was not reflecting the words. you always thought he was one of the more attractive guys in your group, but seeing him under you clicked something inside your mind and you were suddenly having a hard time controlling yourself when your lips went back to his and your fingertips tore off his jacket and threw them somewhere in the front seat.

there wasn't a need to constantly check in with him to make sure he's not getting second thoughts because his hips were rutting upwards and you could feel him through his tight jeans. seeing him react this way made you cocky enough to grab his wrist and bring it up to your thighs. he didn't seem to get the hint, so you pushed his digits right on your slowly soaking panties.

tachihara was messy at first. if you had any doubts that he was a virgin, they'd vanished as soon as he was raking his index along your pussy, trying to figure out where to put it in. it was hard not to chuckle at his uncertainty; he'd always talk a great deal and make it seem like he was the delinquent, like he'd been living this life since he was 5. he had a temper, didn't take orders well from people he didn't respect and has a nasty habit of always trying to get into shit with just about anyone who looks at him wrong, which is why the contrast of having him lay down under you with a hesitant thrust of his finger was so arousing.

you kept good on your word, not teasing him for his lack of experience. you made sure to moan louder when he did something right, and the positive reinforcement was doing wonders because by the time he'd gained enough confidence to push in another, you didn't have to exaggerate anymore.

"fuck... fuck that's good," you mumbled in between grunts as your lips hovered on top of him with a string of saliva and sweet taste of his breath between you. "mnn... yeah, you gotta stretch me out before you... hah... fuck me good... shit, try and rub my clit, baby."

another pleasant surprise, he caught on quickly and soon enough the bundle of nerves were being pushed and roughly handled by his thumb. you whispered something in his ear about how good he was doing and how nicely you were gonna fuck him for this. he tried some more things, his free hand exploring your upper body and trying to feel you from under your bra all the while he curled the other's tips inside you with enough force to get your pussy sucking him up and earning him some more breathy curses from your lips.

your teeth bit into the skin under his ear, steadying yourself as he pulled out halfway through and had your cunt spasming frustratedly around nothing. you weren't sure if you had enough space to suck him off in the backseat, but he didn't give you the chance to offer as he wiped damp digits against your bare thigh then tried to unbuckle his belt.

"nu uh." you stopped him, making sure to dispose of it with your own hands. "you're gonna fuck me yourself."

with mild difficulty, you managed to flip him so his body was on top of your own on the seats, knees spread out around his hips. you pulled down the zipper and any clothing restricting his erection, and you cautiously felt him up to gauge what was about to go inside of you.

"fuck you're thick," you rasped out, cold leather seats on your ass once he'd finally torn off your panties. you couldn't see anything at the moment except his face hovering over yours, red and sweaty despite barely doing anything. you smirked at his expression, and almost as if to shut you up, he lined himself up and snapped his hips.

you could barely handle him and he hadn't even sunk in fully, trying to find out how deep he could hit but unable to hold back when you had tears prickling at the corners of your eyes.

"fuck, you're so tight," he grunts, trying again to push himself inside of you but you're clenched down so hard that it takes a lot more than a simple thrust of his body to bottom out. you're crying out broken groans and angry whimpers, yet you still manage to tell him forcefully not to stop.

you'd be lying if you said that you were letting him fuck you while this tense because it was his first time and you promised to play nice; it was because of the way you were digging your nails into his shoulders and choking on your own cries of pleasure. he said that he'd never done this before, but some level of raw, deeply rooted instinct got him finding his groove and pounding you, your eyes rolling to the back of your skull.

the frame of the car was creaking, bouncing up and down on the suspension with every time his drop met your rise and he finally managed to reach deep enough in you to get your toes curling and chest heaving. your hands were on his back, his own forearms placed on both sizes of your head to support his weight as he felt the kind of high he didn't know was possible.

after you took control from under, he was having trouble holding back and suddenly his sounds were louder than your own. you noticed his lips pressing into a line with closed eyes as if he was afraid of the scandalous grunts you brought out of him. your hand went down to his hip, to his ass to hold him steady as you fucked up upwards and slowly got used to his cock inside of you. he nearly came apart when you clenched down at the same time as you dropped yourself, completely pulling him out with a squelch.

"don't fuckin' cum inside of me," you warned as you slammed back into him and he whimpered into your neck once more. having his hands on the seat wasn't enough, and he had his palm against the glass of the window trying to grab onto something while your pace got merciless and he felt his mind go numb with the sensation. "god, you're so fucking... can't believe I'm the first to fuck your pretty little cock, baby."

tachihara didn't know which word did it, but this time when you clenched, something burst on the inside and he felt himself finishing. it was sloppy, but he managed to pull out and stained your shirt which was still on. he had a hard time holding his weight above you, and just let himself collapse on your chest despite the cum he'd just squirted all over you.

"oh, don't you dare," you grabbed a fistful of his hair and yanked his face up so you could look him in the eyes. you were about to spit something vile about him not getting you to finish, but instead you just sighed and let it go. besides, the stimulation was good enough that you only needed to plunge your fingers back in between your thighs to push yourself over the edge.

you didn't feel the need to bury your face anywhere as your jaw slacked and you reached your high with him laying down on top of you breathing heavily. you did, however, get him to suck your fingers to clean up.

both of you got out of the car, and your shirt was so stained you decided just to leave it in the vehicle. tachihara followed you out, hesitantly closing the door and watching you put your clothes back on while he zipped his pants back up. he noticed that you had pulled out his jacket from the front seat, but made no motion to give it back to him. instead, you put it on top of your bra and zipped it up, leaving him in only his thin white shirt.

"hey," he protested, but you put up a finger.

"your fault, you pay," you shrugged with a chuckle, then gestured for him to come closer so you could give him his belt. he was expecting you to hand it over, but instead you grabbed his hips and slid it around him while looking him straight in the eyes. "you know, you're full of surprises, tachihara. how was that?"

"was fine," he said nonchalantly, but he was betraying his words again by blushing and having his nostrils flare slightly when you asked.

"mhm," you smiled, nodding your head towards another car in the parking lot. "do you mind working your magic on this one? the sex helped but it's still goddamn cold and we better get out of here."

on cue, the locks unclicked and two doors opened. you climbed in and he followed, each thinking deeply on the drive back. you thought about how you'd just taken his virginity so easily, and he thought about how much he wanted you to do it all over again.

[lesbianralzarek]

Thoughts on Baby Ral?

short answer: first thing i did when i woke up this morning was check to see if he was included in the initial batch of spoilers so i could have a higher quality jpeg to stare lovingly at

longer answer: i dont play modern, so wrt its playability ive just been #ListeningAndLearning from actual modern players. the first thing that jumps out to me is that his color identity is UR for edh purposes, but in every other format hes blueless goblin electromancer. i like that he has the additional upsides of 1) eating ragavan (i play brawl, sue me (super excited that hes gonna be on arena!)) and similar T1&2 threats, 2) it being optional to cash it in immediately after winning a coin flip OR seeing how far you can casino this bad boy, and 3) having electrolyze and minds desire on the backside. i also consider the fact that he can oopsies kill you to be an upside from a flavor perspective

ALSO! look at his borderless art! i cant really articulate why this makes me so happy but hes sooo different looking from his adult self, yet hes always been the same little shit he is now personality-wise!

(also also, thats just pure mana in his eyes on the back, pindado didnt give him blue eyes, thank god. hard to tell what they are on the front side, but while i really like his ectoplasm green eyes from dragons maze, id take brown over blue any day)

[maletfwitch]

Check before you eat (Goggletann)

This is an old story by a deleted user named “Goggletann” i just wanna re upload it since it’s once of my faves, apologies if the pictures are low res/hard to read

I got so annoyed with they’re shit service that i just muted the chat and ended the conversation with the sales Representative and turned off my phone. What dicks…

I’ve been working my ass off for 2 entire years to save up for what people call the “magic pill”. Well, it comes in many variations, but the pill version is the most popular. A pop into your mouth and you just need to lie down somewhere while your body is automatically transformed. I dont know all the science stuff behind it but if you got the cash you can even add more stuff and customize your transformation. I got a small bonus before quiting my last job so i opted for a smooth golden tan option that will never fade. Sweet right!

2 days later 

Finally received their package. Got so excited that i just opened it immediately. There it was, my key to to instant stud hood. The magic pill right before my eyes. I got so engrossed that i hardly noticed the other smaller stuff that came with the package. A small pamphlet and a small bottle of god knows what. Must be one of their samples for some other product, plus who needs an instruction pamphlet? What so difficult about eating a pill? 

An Hour later

I invited Lance over to the beach for a tanning session with me before i poped my pill. I always felt that guy was a total lazy fuck. He always does things way too slowly. And he doesn;t seem to have a care in the world to the point where he just lazes around and hardly gets a full time job. What a lazy piece of shit seriously. I know he has always been envious of those fitness models and bodybuilders but because of his sheer laziness he hardly even makes a point to exercise. Maybe after seeing my transformation he might change his mind. And i would love seeing his green envious face. I’d probably chuckle alittle too.

 opened my box and unwraped the pill ready to swallow it with a bottle of water. It was surprisingly sweet. Not at all bitter as what i heard. 

“hey dude can i have that too? Need a sweet to suck on while we tann” Lance said in his usual slow voice.

I looked back at the box and noticed the small bottle. Looks like a sample tanning lotion.

“Sorry bro that was my last sweet. I got an expensive tanning lotion here though. It should be enough for one person. You can have it…” I replied

“awwww thanks man!” Lance grabbed the bottle and slowly spread the lotion all over his pasty white skin.

Thank god i gave him that bottle to distract him. God knows what other questions he’s gonna ask. I so wanna see his face when we wake up after the tann and he would have to watch me be the hunk he always wanted to be. 

We both looked up at the sky and realised the sun was coming out.   

“Time for a tann and hopefully a new body” I yelled to Lance still unaware of my plot. 

30 Minutes Later

The tanning session was so relaxing that i just dozed off. Looking down at my own body i realized it was still the same so I reached for my phone beside me still with my eyes closed and placed it above my face to check with the Chovonic Sales person why its taking so damm long. And i realized I had missed one msg before i ended my last conversation with them.

[fanficfanatic000]

(Handmade for me) E.M. 3

Eddie Munson x best friend plus sized reader

18+ don't read if a minor

Trigger warning ( read if you dare )

Summary) Reader is a plus sized young adult female Who lived in Hawkins her whole life was a outcast in school only has three friends Robin. Steve and eddie. But your best friend is eddie munson. Just your friend right???...You work at a bar as a bartender usually serving drinks from rugged bikers to just turned twenty one first drinkers... until that night.... when it all when wrong......)

The work day was pretty slow until a blonde gril waked up to the bar counter sat on a stool "a margarita with ice please "Her barbie doll looking friend sat across from her they were the same age as you seemingly they were the cheerleaders of Hawkins high well out grown cheerleaders..."Ill have the same as her.." you made their drinks "that'll be twenty two dollars" she slammed the cash on the bar conversating with her friend... you didn't mean to easdrop on the conversation "yeah he was cute he had these rings and his hair was a mess but he was cute a little freakish but yeah then he was like can i have your number then he called me the next day and told me about his concert from his band corner coffen or something its tomorrow night im gonna go get laid." Your ears ringing with anger and just like that you were off the clock rushing out of the bar To your car looking in the car mirrorWhy are you angry? Or sad or the fucking thing you're feeling why?! He's your best friend you shouldn't be you were jealousThat plastic gal of course he'd go for her not.....not you definitely not you "fuck i think i-i love eddie" you love him but he doesn't love you....probably.....right.?You drove home and when you got there you ran into your room face red you sat on your bed staring at your TV turned off with that note still on it. You love him you fucking love your best friend but it's he he won't love you.....he won't he doesn't he doesn't want you and your squishy body Right?.... he wants someone skinny And small.. everyone does right?............ You were heated you ripped off your t shirt and jeans you threw some shorts onLooking for a tank top in your bra a least "hey -p-princess...." you turned to him standing there in the door way his eyes hovering on your chest his mouth agape"Eddie!" You grabbed a Hoodie and threw it on "sorry edds i forgot to close the door.."He walks closer still eyeing your chest till he was close enough to touch then he leaned in and whispered "ya know i didnt really mind seeing you i really loved it "Heat in your face and core he moved back and you looked in his eyes his pupils blown wide "eddie you're high i think you need to take a minute" you grabbed his shoulders and sat him on the bed "mmmmmbut its trueee" you started to walk away when he grabbed your hips and pulled them on his lap "eddie! You need some sleep" his hard length pressed under you "i know im high but i just want this and i know you like it.."You escaped his lap and grasp "eddie get some sleep you dont know what your saying.." he laid down "fiinnne" and he immediately passed out... he doesn't mean that he couldn't then the phone rang "hello y/n is eddie there?!" "Yep hes here but he fell asleep hell probably stay asleep for the rest of the day " "alright thank you for taking care of him for me y/n""No problem wayne." Click and there he was asleep the best friend you are in love with you lay beside him and passed out .

Part four out now of soon

If you're looking for it go under hash tag

Handmad for me em

[thepowerisyouth]

MONEY / FINANCE STRESS CONTENT WARNING, this next line is unfortunately quite stressful about money so this was an important warning for me to add:

This is also less for the random strangers on the internet who have no reason to trust my advice but more for the 10-15 people I know personally who trust my money advice based on prior experience and Ive sent them my blog link in the last month or two

US stock market is about to tank. On a global perspective its stupidly overpriced because markets like China are hitting 5 year lows (as in we've increased our stock market over 2x since "COVID lows", but their market is even lower than it was then.

Timing is hard but it is entirely possible yesterday was the peak of the market. Might also not tank for 6 months.

Market psychology is fucking weird tho so please absolutely dont 'short' anything, which is basically the same as 'buying puts'. Michael Burry nearly bankrupted all his friends, family, and random investors by insisting on 'shorting' things based on knowledge of impending crisis.

Just sell everything. I mean literally everything. Bond etfs might go up but youd have to have eyes glued to the charts to sell in time. Gold wont do, neither will bitcoin. Their negative correlation to stocks isnt really a thing anymore.

Get every etf, stock, whatever into cash in the brokerage account, then move it out of the banks/brokerage firms and into something physically in front of you because we are, in fact, in another 'historical period of bank runs' its just not quite at the peak yet.

Not trying to increase anxiety beyond nessecary-- its just that any, single bank can immediately freeze your money-- leaving it up to the Federal Government to pay you back-- and it might possibly be the case that youd have to rely on whats called a "bank bail in" to see your savings again.

Not a fun situation to be in, even if it wont happen to most people its just safe practice to do this during a "historical period of bank runs"

----------------

This blog is basically my diary of my thoughts (suprise suprise). But Im an open book, privileged (but poor) little white boy with complex societal/generational abuse and very little home problems so lets fucking go theres a whole mormon cargo van to unpack

Definitely recommend tags Im terrible at them.

---

To those reading this, if you have ever met me in real-life or on the internet than you have taught me varying degrees of information which can be randomly retrieved by my brain at any time depending on current CPU performance. Thoughts of my loving husband have occupied my headspace probably 95% of my time since 14 so he has absolutely taught me at least 100x more than anyone else in the world.

When I say "I", oftentimes Im thinking about "me and my husband", or even sometimes "me and my friends/family", or even sometimes "me and society"--- but I am not always 100% aware of the current headspace environment and/or beliefs of the minds of those around me without feedback

---

There are currently over 8 billion individual varieties of the global human language spoken within the mind. Lets start translating them all. Misunderstood words become mean labels.

I fucking hate mean labels

"Math wiz" = racism and/or classism and/or gender shit. Fuck that shit

When a person is niched off into one part of an 8 billion population human society, it becomes impossible to not "live in a bubble". Bubbles change in size constantly even if not visibly observed. Bubbles can be different sizes depending on your current day-to-day thoughts of your own society. Bubbles must pop. Enlightenment implies life only gets better the more times ya pop and lock it

My path away from purely mathematics, logic, and scientific theory began when I met my husband, and for the first time in my life it became important to me not to be an asshole to everyone around me

Ive been told (only after I started dating my traumatized husband tho and helped him heal a lot) that I'm a natural communicator-- and all my life I found myself listening and learning to everything and everyone around me trying to understand both their and my own motivations-- then I like to garble them up and spit 'em out. My memory recall ability is wonky tho and fluctuates highly with nutrient intake-- I'll get into that later

I wish I could have a million years to read every blog on tumblr. I really do. Connecting & communating is extremely important for understanding one another but it takes time

I had an extremely unique childhood (who hasnt lol), enough so to isolate myself quite a lot through sheer dumb luck. My mom is also everyone's favorite school teacher so of course I was learning a lot from a young age. Luckily I glued myself to the first person who wanted to glue themselves to me equally & we grew exponentially closer to eternity

If its still not clear: my husband and I are bored and love chatting with people, but like most internet loving freaks my mouth don't work sometimes well but my fingies do. My ears got fluff a lot but I got eyes for LEDs like a hawk. Wish they werent LED tho

I also have a naturally short sleep cycle (i.e. extra time for this), and I really wont be offended or weirded out by someone reading through and liking 20+ or whatever of my posts at once randomly. Stories are supposed to be read in chunks, and I think of this blog as a story & also workspace for my thoughts that Id love to see which chapters everyone has read through. Also I love (and only respond positively to) positive feedback, yet also suggestions for ways to improve my "theorums". As in, good faith discussions are totally welcome on any post.

For my 50 year old parents reading my blog so lovingly in their limited evening time-- you can sort by tags to see what topics your familiar with, if you play around with the search function while on my page. Mom. Show dad how to do it

In the very, very bottom of my blog I dont even think I managed to tag shit properly-- but its the roughdraft workings of the philosophy, as well as my own logical framework for answering lifes questions. Its 2 months ago so I might not even be writing according to my own works down there anymore idk I change fast sometimes

Last thing for now here is that I was always criticized by teachers for not showing my work, and for not reviewing my tests before turning in, and I pushed back hard because nearly every time I went over and corrected a mistake-- I saw I most often got it right the first fucking time on a pure hunch. I act on impulse when I'm not meditating mostly for efficiency purposes because I believe I'm correct, but remain open to emotionally positive feedback so I can help remove all doubt.

-------

This might turn into my 'life story' post, as its already going there. Heres what I have so far in the way of my knowledge of my family before I was brought into existence, and my "earliest memories":

Family context:

I dont know jack shit. Nobody talks about it at all.

Here's my own observations Ive made using the framework and perceptive filters I was given--

My whole family is white Texans.

Ancestory is slaveowners of course, further back is a very likely direct parent-child descendent line from the most famous inbred british royalty of the 13th century i.e. King John, whose brother was the arab genociding Richard.

I would call my immediate family as upper poverty class. Its more like poverty with extra privileges cause mental health stigma was the only thing holding them back not other shit too.

As children we had a lot of very privileged opportunities because my parents made a lot of sacrifices to try and bring us back up the class ladder. Lets look into that generational trauma issue

My dads parents (born in the early 40s, dont know the year exactly. I think '43 or '44) were more upper middle class, pretty high income. Owned an insurance business that was very successful by the early 2000s at least. My grandpa is described to me as a "monster" and "violently abusive". I have a single memory of him screaming at me as a young child and I was cowering under a desk, so I really believe it. No other stories at all to provide context.

-- I gotta split this section off I realized I wrote the next thing about post-me context Ill need to move this part lower down later--

My grandpa got early onset dementia, my dad didnt notice in time, and my grandpa bankrupted his successful company and lost several million of dollars to "scammers and sexy ladies."

My dad found out around 2015-16 or so. He told me a little bit after telling me my grandparents were getting divorced. My dad managed to scrape together about $200,000 which is being sued for by the IRS actively.

(He split that money in two, and entrusted me tell him how to invest half in safe value stocks that I handpicked as well as a calculated risk allocation to bonds which we sold for 30% profit the second the market crashed. He gave the other half to a brokerage advisor. I never met the advisor but saw the results. Dont get me started on how the other dude did with that money-- we started this endeavor in January 2020.)

Personally I also dont believe that its possible to spend an entire fortune on scammers and strippers, so Id love to see his books and figure out what the hell went wrong with that asshole. I have a hunch I know something more than anyone else ("Enron", guys, we're talking about an insurance company in HOUSTON, in the 2000s) but I will never be sure without the books.

----

Back to other family--

I do not know a single thing about my grandma on my dads side. She raised me quite a lot, but yeah I literally have only heard her life described to me as "she was a housewife"

On my moms side, my Mimi (also born 1940s but slightly younger so I think 1946 or 1947) came from a divorced, upper middle class family. In 1964-65, She and her step mom both got knocked up the same year so she watched her divorced dad remarry to said step mom when she was 18-19 and getting a shotgun marriage herself, so you can imagine what that was like. The "biological" of the two moms was a very good mom and very queer from what I hear. She died when I was a baby, from lung cancer. Thats all I know. My mimi raised me quite a lot, nearly equally as much as my mom did

My mom's dad, my Papa, came from a rural farming family in East Texas. Dont know much else of anything, but he and his siblings were named "Billy, Bobby, and Betty". As in, they are what everyone likes to call "hicks"

--

Moving onto my direct parents now. I know a little more about them of course, but since we're getting closer in age to the present-- I think itll be easier to describe my understanding as common stereotypes. If its unclear what I mean definitely feel free to ask, but I'll probably say "I dont really know"

Not much else is relevant other than knowing that my moms family was the mormon one, but that as soon as my dad was love-bombed by the church he joined to. Mormons were also different in the 90s I'm told.

My dad struggled with being one of the "crazy schizos" of the 90s. As in, very traumatized, upset, and gaslit by the government and his parents. Must have done a damn good job dealing with it by the time he was in his late 20s and I popped out cause he was never a "bad dad" to me at all. Definitely yelled and was more angry at times, but less than any other friends parents Ive ever met, and from what I remember he came into my room at night and apologized to me literally every single time within like 5-10 minutes. I know pretty much nothing about him pre-me. He was a tradesman my whole life and specialized in remodeling kitchens & bathrooms (the 'dirty work of construction'). All his initial clientele were the rich people my grandma lived near and was friends with.

My mom would have been extremely queer-presenting and posting on tumblr if born in the year 2000, but was born in early 70s, and was a raegan teen in high-school in Texas during the satanic panic-- she presents completely cis, straight, but has body dysmorphia issues. Thats about you need to know about those issues I'm sure my tumblr folks can assume the rest and be perfectly correct. Cause thats about all I know too and I'm assuming the rest about my own mother

--- Earliest memories

I think a lot of people face doubt about their own earliest memories, maybe hearing the way I connect the images of these events in my head to my emotions I felt will help others do the same.

----

Two disclosers about me & my current healthcare discoveries before moving on

1) My only "major" childhood trauma is loneliness. I have a partner now (started dating early high school, nearing 10 years together now) who was just as lonely and we are glued to each others side constantly, and have made our life work great that way. So don't feel too bad reading this, I'm only able to write it down because Ive healed that trauma and can dig this stuff up with no issues to validate the emotions I felt even as a child

1) I believe I have a genetic trait that is only just getting discovered. There are something like 6 discovered mutations that hold this similar trait so far, and its just basically chronic insomia.

It being a genetic trait tracks with how my mom describes me as never settling into a normal sleep pattern at 6 months old, having absurd amounts of nightmares and death anxiety keeping me up at night as a child, and I still dont sleep at any given time. I average 2 hours less sleep than my husband, who averages 7-8 now that he isnt actively being abused at home.

Going to get sequenced but even if negative I'd probably just be a 7th mutation, as they only found the other 6 genes via case study.

The scientists whove discovered it call it "Familial Natural Short Sleeper", if you desire to look it up. They describe the trait like its the best possible thing in the world. Well... terminally chronic insomia is not the best thing in THIS world thats for sure.

---------

My "earliest memories"

These arent ranked by time accurately of course. Took enough effort digging through my brain to turn them up, not like Ive got a 2003 calendar stuffed in here as well.

I did do my best to sort by first memory but it also might be sorted by the order at which I recovered the memories as being one of my "earliest" when I was a child and asked such things

1. Pure emptiness. I can only describe it as dissociation. I can remember nothing about the environment around me, except feeling suddenly sucked out of it, seeing only darkness, feeling almost a ringing in my ears and the deepest dread possible. This same feeling followed me in life for a little while, but started to take more visual shape when I was an adolescent, until at some point I would see myself sitting in a chair alone in a room that is infinitely sized but that slowly gets darker the further out you go. I cant remember what exact "real-world" event caused this feeling to ever happen each time it did. I just can remember having it happen occasionally when I was awake and doing things. Definitely dissociation. (If you are willing to believe me further I think its just probably "lights out" and being scared of that)

1. Riding a mattress down the stairs. I kind of remember two images, one is the tunnel vision of going high speed down the stairs and the other would be from looking back up at the stairs when I was done going down. Totally fun, probably my first rollar coaster ride. I might remember my siblings laughing too but it wouldnt be because I can remember the actual laughing-- but I can remember feeling the joy of being in a group of people laughing. At the time, my parents were selling the house so thats why I also remember it being a completely empty carpeted room that we were riding down into

2. My brother smashing his head repeatedly into the refrigerator for 'fun' and someone saying "wow he has a hard head" or something along those lines. I was learning english I cant remember exactly what they said but that was definitely the meaning I took from their words. I think this memory is strong, because I was truly very curious as to why my brother was just running at full speed, head down, and headbutting a hard surface. The words someone said after that must have been one of my first 'answers'

3. Watching my siblings play in rare Houston snow. Not much remembering there actually. Probably just thought it was mezmorizing to watch as I just really remember a picture and feeling peace

4. Will add more later.

[no-psi-nan]

20) part of canon you found tedious or boring

The crossover parts in the light novels... thog dont caare (minor bit of canon but I literally paid cash money to get it translated so... -_-U)

Also that one episode in the second season / later volumes that was basically a repeat. The one with Saiki being invisible while Teruhashi tries to find him. We've already scene this exact same sitch play out, there's no development to either their characters or relationship, everyone knows their deal at this point so it's not even funny.... The anime should've replaced this one with the YouTube episode SMH, 10000% more value.

21) part of canon you think is overhyped

Not necessarily overhyped but I personally would have never picked the domestic abuse chapters to be the first ones in the series hsfjdlshfks. Yeah it's funny but like. It's still domestic abuse. Let's save the terrible home life for when the audience is more invested yeah? Though I guess people also don't notice the domestic abuse as much since it's front-loaded maybe?? I would like to see some research on this sort of thing tbh!!

22) your favorite part of canon that everyone else ignores

All of the Aiura moments... She's always so so funny and sweet, and the way she and Saiki interact is wonderful, she's the person he's the most real around (Toritsuka doesn't count because he mostly gets Saiki's bad side for good reasons hsfjdlshfks).

When they work so well together at saving Yumehara's life despite being strangers... When Aiura shows so much kindness to Mera and is so determined to help her that Saiki ends up helping her even though he was originally against it... When Saiki saves Aiura from the gang and she still trusts him completely even though they'd fought and Saiki just did something violent, which most other people would consider monstrous... Her willingness to help out Saiki anytime, no questions asked, just because she cares about him... Their hilarious & effective co-performances against Imu and Yumehara (as Kaido)... When Aiura realizes "lucky feel" moments / her usual methods of seduction won't work and switches to just finding out when Saiki's free and hanging together eating dessert + talking... When Saiki clearly enjoys those dates so much that he immediately agrees to another in his tsundere way when she asks him... When Saiki chases her around for coffee jelly, so brain-empty and silly (see: my blog header)... Her faith that Saiki will fix things even when he has a death mark on him too... When Saiki trusts her with the fate of the world... When Saiki's clones carry her so closely when they could literally just levitate her completely physically apart and she never tries to cop a feel or get fresh... When she asks Saiki if he wants a kiss and respects his "no" but just has to share the physical comfort they both need in that moment...

And yet everyone always mischaracterizes her and cheapens her relationship with Saiki, especially when favoring another ship for him.

Or they think that she would be soooooo emo about it if Saiki rejected her. Hello?? She literally told him to fuck off because he tried to stop her from helping people, and did NOT look back or change her mind. Just because she's into bdsm doesn't mean she's going to compromise her morals for a dude, even if he's her soulmate. And she's clearly had no trouble pulling dudes before, so it's not like she'll be pining after him for long if he's being a dick.

On the other hand, she knows he's tsundere as fuck and that she'd have to play the long game with him, and she's clearly fine with it. She has confidence in her powers and has already seen how well they work & play together, so it's just a matter of time.

Anyways I get so so heated when people don't do my girl justice, as I'm sure you can tell hsfjdlshfks

Thanks for the ask @hillbilly---man 💜💜💜💜💜

[l1tw1ck]

THE TONY ANON MADE ME FEEL THINGS ABOUT THAT ASSHOLE. so now i will write some stuff more in depth about having sex with him. imagine youre some rich ceo of a company that provides stark with what he needs for his big ol projects,, n stuff, and because hes been making so many stupid investments (girls that cheat him out of his money and booze) he doesnt have enough to pay for the expensive items anymore. but you dont mind! you could very easily give him a discount, after all, youre so close, right? tonys glad that he gets this special discount, but when he asks you what it might be, he goes pale. you wanna ruin him- just for a night, maybe a bit into the morning if he feels like earning a few bucks. hes desperate, and clearly too hungover to think, and agrees. as creepy and strange as he finds you- he really, really wants that equipment, and he may as well have a good time getting it, right? wrong. hed stretched himself for the day of the "payment," quite adequately so. just in case you werent all smiles and big cash. and you certainly werent. when you take off your clothes, and show off what god has bestowed on you, he turns as white as a sheet, but soon afterwards his cheeks start to flush... why does he find this so hot? hes fucking some rich guy for equipment, just the idea gets him all hot and bothered.. normally he imagines himself in the place of the rich ceo, but being the recipient of his torture might be something interesting to delve into. but he doesnt have time to think- you pounce on him, tearing off his clothes and shoving his face into your cushy bed with his ass pointed up towards your already aching length. hes surprised, but not reluctant, adjusting his position to be more comfortable while you shove a finger inside of him. "well prepared," you comment, and fiddle with his little dicklet. hes rich, why wouldnt he have the money to take hormones? youre happy that he has, because stroking it is almost hypnotizing, the squeaks and shaking whimpers coming out of his limp body enough to make you leak. and so, once youve had enough of your teasing, you dump what must be a quarter of a bottle of lube onto his hole, and position yourself at his entrance. he expects you to tantalizingly slide inside of him, which is the cause of his surprised yelp when you almost immediately start plowing him into the mattress, grasping his hips with a bruising, vice grip to keep him from sliding into a flat position. he can hardly keep himself from cumming right then and there, screaming into the linen of your bedsheets to keep his moans from echoing throughout your entire penthouse. tony can hardly think, but he realizes that hes going to have to endure your pace throughout the entire night, and whines pitifully when his first orgasm approaches at a disturbingly fast speed, his gut coiling into a tight knot thats almost painful. its when you latch onto his neck with a hard bite for more leverage that he squirts all over your bed, staining it with his sloppy juices. and that pisses you off only slightly- youre too focused on making this the most memorable "experience" hes ever had. your balls start clenching sooner than you want them to, and you groan into the skin of his nape when you empty yourself in his awaiting, squeezing walls, painting his insides white with your cum. you pant atop him for a short while, but what disturbs tony the most is how quickly your cock hardens once more, releasing a whiny moan muffled in toyour soiled bedsheets. (hope you enjoyed this, bc i sure did enjoy writing it (i like to horny rant about men, it is very relaxing))

-💢

im being blessed today😭💕💕

[icantpickafictionalman]

Transparent Soul

Adam x Fem!Reader

Context : (Name) sings in a band and adam is at one of her shows. they are strangers, but he has heard of her.

Content : language, making out

"i dont fuckin' know if it's a lie or its a fact, all your little fake friends 'll sell your secrets for some cash, smile in my face then put your cig out on my back, if you ever see me just get to running like the flash"

Adam stood at the front of the crowd, watching as (Name) danced around, microphone in hand. Adam had been infatuated with (name) ever since he saw one of her videos on social media, so when he saw the opportunity to go to one of her shows, he knew it was an offer he just couldn't pass up.

"I knew a boy just like you, he's a snake just like you, such a fake just like you, but i can see the truth, transparent soul"

As (Name) continued to dance around the stage, Adam wondered more and more about her. the biggest question on his mind was however, did she know who he was?

"oh i can see right through, just so you know transparent soul, i can see right through just so you know"

As (Name) was singing, adam watched her point to someone holding a sign right next to him, and blow them a kiss. when he looked round to the sign, he saw it read, "We Love you (Name)!" This made Adam think. Had he ever seen one of those signs at his concerts before? Come to think of it, he never looked into the crowd to check.

"I don't fucking know if it's paradise or it's a trap Yeah, they're treating me like royalty, but is it kissin' ass? No one's brave enough to take the fall right But it's all your fault Why you actin' like it's alright?"

as Adam enjoyed the music, he looked and watched all the other band members. 'none of them were nearly as cool as (Name)', Adam thought.

"I knew a girl just like you She was vain, just like you Such a pain, just like you And everybody knows the truth"

when Adam turned his head back round to look at (Name), he saw her staring right back at him.

"Transparent soul I can see right through, just so you know Transparent soul I can see right through, just so you know"

Adam didn't know what to think. Possibly one of the hottest girls he'd ever seen was just staring at him. Why? Well, as (Name)'s set was coming to a close, Adam thought it best to look for her after the show. Hell, maybe she would know who he was.

"It's clear to me now

You're scared of me, wow

It's clear to me now ,transparent soul

It's clear to me now

You're scared of me, wow

It's clear to me now ,transparent soul"

As the set came to a close, Adam sought after (Name). Sneaking backstage, he found her, standing next to the refreshments table, drinking a bottle of water.

"Hey, (Name)!" He said , coming up behind her. "Great set out there! I loved that last one." As (Name) turned around, her jaw dropped, and when she didn't reply to his compliment, he noticed her staring again. "You...okay?" When she didn't reply, only stared, he thought it best to introduce himself. "I'm Adam. I play too. Although we kinda play for a...different crowd." (Name) finally answered, "oh no, I know who you are. I'm just... I love your music! I can't believe you're at one of my shows!" It was now Adam's turn to be shocked. How could a girl so beautiful know who he was? Now, when Adam didn't answer, (Name) brought it upon herself to ask, "do you uh... wanna come back to my dressing room? It's uh.. a nicer scene than out here." She said with a small chuckle."oh uh, yeah! Sounds great!"

As they made their way to (Name)'s dressing room, Adam couldn't help but watch her every move. He was obsessed. He'd never experienced anything like it before.

When they finally got into the dressing room, (name) immediately flopped onto a couch, tired from the night, and grabbed her and Adam a beer. When Adam stayed standing in the middle of the room, she gestured to the space on the couch next to her, to which he happily filled.

"So what brings you to one of my shows?" Adam didn't know what to say. He couldn't tell her why he really came. That he came because she was so undeniably beautiful and he wanted a chance to slide into her pants. So he told her the first thing that came to mind. " I saw you guys, online. Looked like a cool scene." (Name) smiled. As they continued talking, opening up a few more beers, Adam let a confession slip. "Oh and when I saw you? You were just so fuckin' hot, sugartits." When he watched (name)'s face flush, he knew he had an affect on her. "You think I'm hot?" She asked, craving his affection. "Unbelievably." As they stared at each other in silence, (name) could only think one thing. "Do not look at his lips. Do not look at his lips. Do not look at his lips."until suddenly, she did. She tried to stay calm, maybe he hadn't seen it. But oh was she wrong. Adam saw it. And Adam wanted to take it farther. "Watcha lookin' at, hot stuff?" (Name) tried to think up a quick response, but her mind had blanked. "Kiss me." She muttered. "What was tha-" Adam asked but he was cut off by (name)'s lips crashing onto his, her hands moving slowly up his chest and finding perch around his neck. As he began to kiss her back, invading her mouth with his tongue, he flipped them over, so that he was now sitting above her. "Oh fuck..." she muttered, in between breaths.

[1l0v34g00dp1nkc0l0ur]

“Growth is painful. Change is painful. But nothing is as painful as staying stuck somewhere you don't belong.”- Mandy Hale

It is in our nature to develop into a better beings of ourselves. Those who don't grow as a person will begin to deteriorate. They turn into an empty soul with no drive for anything, and they end up with physical and mental health issues, no friends, and no love life.

Many of us think that chasing the new promotion is the only growth we can achieve. We forget the soul and the body. We neglect mental hygiene. Our brain turns into a mush with nothig but a simple desire for dopamine, full of kortizol, lack of seretonin. I could list till the end of the world the importance of clear mind.

But a clean mind doesn´t come with just journaling, meditation and taking a walk every now and then. A facemask wont fix your depression.

A clean and strong mind requiers:

clean surroundings

clean diet

strong body

organised life

Clean room + surroundings:

Peterson said to have your life in order before we judge others and to have a clean room. He is right. Just by following your morning routine of making your bed makes you more productive + your rooms looks more clear.

Give yourself the motivation to keep your room/ apartment/ house clean and organized.

For example:

you want to buy the new limited colection of tea cups, but you also need to take out the thrash ouf of your room and vacuum

Solution:

you put a timer of your phone and lets just say, within 40 minutes you will clean and vacuum

after that, you reward yourself with the purchase of said tea cups

Clean eating:

We all know the endles rules about cutting out sugar, processed foods and dont even think about those fries and to-go fast foods. They tell to restrict, while not teaching us how to control ourselves , especially if we are struggling with food. I myself had an sugar addiction, I was snackin on chocolate bars, ate till I couldnt and then ate more. Until one day.

In ATOMIC HABITS by JAMES CLEAR I read something along the lines of signing a contract with someone and putting what we want to quit, away (in my case it was sugar = dang i loved the ones with the caramel filling). So i did that, signed a contract with my mother, if I ate said chocolate, i would have to pay a hefty amount of cash and hold a family meeting where i present my page long apology.

Try adding food instead of substracting.

For example:

I want to eat ramen. So I add a soft boiled egg (protein) , nori sheets (iodine), sesame seeds (healthy fats, protein, B vitamins, minerals, fiber, antioxidants, and other beneficial plant compounds) with a chili-garlic (garlic= vitamins C and B6, manganese and selenium, chili = vitamin C and antioxidants) paste.

Replace with a better alternative.

For example:

I want sugar in my tea. I add stevia

The recepy requires to add white chocolte or milk chocolate chips. Instead add dark chocolate chips.

Strong body:

Getting a strong body is challenging. We want to look good, but that is not important, the importance is the strenght and the health that comes with it.

take up on a challenge ( some simple 2 week challenge from youtube)

instead of a car or a public transport use a bike or walk (skateboard or rollerskates will do as well)

Organized life:

get clear boxes/containers and label them

categorise

use that calendar that you buy every year and you only use it for the first week of the year, yes I am looking at you

get rid of things you dont use, that make-up you got from your aunt from the 7th grade, it is time to say goodbye, you dont need 3 exact same black handbags

after using things, put them immediately away

[ohsomightypeaches]

*gasp* it's here 🔥

But he can’t do his fucking hair.

Same. I felt that deeply.

Don’t be gentle, Francisco. C’mon, harder, deeper - don’t hold back.

That's what she said 😃

Meeting his eyes in the rearview mirror, Frankie rips into him mercilessly. ‘You know your small ass condoms don’t fit me, Benjamin.’ 

💀💀💀💀

Will joins in the banter. ‘You better watch out, little bro. Big Dick Morales came out swinging tonight.’

Screaming 💀💀💀💀WILLIAM

Frankie shrugs in mock nonchalance and quips, ‘I mean, I can use the cash. Shampoo ain’t cheap.’

💀💀💀💀💀💀💀💀💀

Frankie clears his throat and stutters. ‘Um. I - I don’t know.’

His brain short circuited and he panicked 💀💀💀

‘Pipe down, Morales, we’re just messing with you,’ you shush him, tugging on his slightly skewed shirt collar to set it straight. ‘Can’t believe you own a tie.’

💀💀💀💀 WAIT WHY WOULDNT HE OWN AT LEAST THE ONE TIE I HAVE QUESTIONS FRANCISCO. IS MY MANS A FERAL CAT?! 3 IN 1 AND NOW NOT EVEN A SINGLE TIE?!?!? 😌 I'd still take him

‘Borrowed it from Pope,’ he grunts without making eye contact.

Oh sweetie.

‘I see you haven’t dyed my son’s hair like I requested,’ she says by way of a greeting, drawing you into an embrace.

😃 but the grays are 🔥🔥 maam

‘In my professional opinion, he does,’ you retort pointedly.

👏👏👏👏

‘If he looks so good, why is he still single?’

😃 damn. You did not need to dig in like that ma.

Mrs. Morales scoffs. ‘They’re men, what do they know! I don’t see him catching any girls’ attention.’

Mama Morales is ruthless.

You raise your drink. ‘Don’t you worry, Mrs M. I promise you - he’ll be leaving with his future wife tonight!’

LOL

‘You can’t marry her, Fish.’

😤 excuse me santiago garcia why not WHY NOT COME BACK HERE AND EXPLAIN YOURSELF

‘Why aren’t you dancing, my little debutante?’ you ask when you come within earshot.

My little debutante 🤣

Except in your mind, it’s not water that he’s wiping from his mouth.

👀🔥

‘Hi! You must be Frankie, I’m Jan.’

NO SHOO GO AWAY LEAVE HIM ALONE

He scoffs. ‘No, thank you.’

😤 he said what he said

‘That never gets old,’ you smirk. ‘Although, I promised your mother you’d leave with your future wife tonight - so that’s a bust.’

🤭

Instead, you blurt out, ‘Why?’

GIRL NO WHY

Your poor second-hand Ikea bed that Benny helped set up when you moved in was not made for this.

🤷‍♀️ I mean if it gets broken you get a new one easy peasy

With an insolent grin, you tease, ‘You’re a big boy, aren’t you, Morales?’

🔥🔥🔥🔥 that sza snl skit song immediately started playing in my head help

‘Eyes on me,’

😳🫣🥵

For a second, Frankie lies on his side, watching you quietly. You watch him back, casting your gaze over the curls stuck to his sweaty forehead and his broad outline backlit by your nightstand light. Before self-consciousness can settle into the small distance between you, he cracks a smile and quips, ‘You did say I’d get laid even if it killed you.’

Ha

‘The door’s thin, Shiv, I can hear him. And we put two and two together when you guys disappeared last night. We're pretty, but we ain't dumb!’

They ARE pretty 😌

‘Damn, that good, huh?’ he laughs. ‘I mean, Fish does have a rep, but I've never had insider confirmation.’

💀💀💀💀💀💀💀BENJAMIN

‘Morning, stud,’ sing-songs Benny, which earns him a slap on the head. ‘Ow! What the fuck, Shiv!’

💀💀💀

Benny, being the shithead that he is, interjects loudly. ‘Hey lovebirds, I’m kind of on the clock here, if you don’t mind -’

BENNY DONT BE RUDE

Swiping the bill from Benny, Frankie winks at you before pressing a lingering kiss to the corner of your mouth - chaste, but charged with meaning. ‘Looks like you paid for your own dinner, Shiv.’

SCREAMING 💀💀💀💀💀

‘Yeah right - as if you would now that you know what you’ll be missing.’

💀 FRANCISCO he's not wrong tho lol

‘It’s exactly what it looks like,’ interrupts Benny as he starts singing. ‘Shiv and Frankie sitting in a tree, F-U-C-K-I-’

💀💀💀💀💀💀 fucking in a tree doesn't sound pleasant tho. I know that's not the point but man no thank you

‘He even drives sexy,’ sighs Ashton dreamily. Nudging you in the side, he adds slyly, ‘You’re in so much trouble, Shiv.’

💯 nothing but facts

🥺 I love them. That's all.

Grays II

Frankie Morales x f!reader

{ Grays - Part I | Main Masterlist }

Rating: E (18+ only)

Summary: Leaning in close, you hiss in his ear, ‘You’re getting laid tonight if it kills me, Morales.’

Warnings: Insecure Frankie in need of self-love comes with his own warning, Reader is a hairstylist and has a related nickname, matchmaking elements, meddlesome mother, lots of teasing, not-quite-friends to lovers dynamics, mentions of hair, gratuitous descriptions of the male body, oral sex (F and M receiving), protected sex, dirty talk.

Word count: 8.5k

Notes: It's here - 4 months later! First of all, thank you so much for the love for Grays Part I. I still can't quite believe the reaction to Frankie and Shiv, you guys sure know how to make a writer feel special 🥰 This one was so much fun to write, and nervous as I am posting this follow-up, I'm telling myself to let go of my insecurities and just enjoy it because that's what it's all about. I hope y'all will have a good time at this wedding with the gang 😘

Francisco Morales likes to think of himself as a reasonably competent man. 

He can pilot a helicopter under intense enemy fire. He can take out a target from miles away in the tightest of spots. 

But he can’t do his fucking hair.

He glares at himself in the mirror. He can’t put his finger on it, it just doesn’t look like how you did it. He’s already washed it out and started over twice, and for a second, he considers driving to your salon. A quick glance at his watch tells him it’s far too late for that now.

Leaning over the sink, he says to his reflection, ‘Focus, pendejo. You can do it.’

He’s a pilot for fuck’s sake. He’s a man of procedure, he can follow steps. He just needs to break it down.

Hair half-dry - check.

Hair mousse applied - check.

Now he just needs to dry his hair all the way and style it - but the how is where it gets hazy. 

Frankie closes his eyes and casts his mind back to your salon. He’s sitting in the chair and you’re standing behind him. He wills himself to recall what you were doing with your hands, but all he remembers is the scrape of your of your fingertips on his scalp, the ghost of your breath on the back of his neck, and then -

Don’t be gentle, Francisco. C’mon, harder, deeper - don’t hold back.

He scrubs a frustrated palm down his face when his cock twitches in his haphazardly ironed dress pants, not for the first time… hell, not even the fourth time since he left your salon on Wednesday afternoon.

‘Goddamnit,’ he bites out, dropping the hairdryer with a clunk and grips the porcelain sink. He needs to calm the fuck down. 

He didn’t ask for - this, whatever this is. You’re you. You’re Shiv. The loudmouth with the wild hair he’s known since fifth grade. The fourth wheel at guys’ drinks when Will can’t make it. A relentless tease on a good day, and downright insufferable when you get enough tequila in you.

And quite possibly, the only person who’s ever driven him to the brink of unconsciousness with just the touch of their bare hands.

Frankie pinches the bridge of his nose. Maybe you’re right. It has been a while since he’s been with a woman. He just needs to get laid at the wedding, get this weird tension out of his system. And then hopefully, he’ll be able to go to sleep without being kept up by you telling him to go harder, deeper -

By the time he gets his head out of his ass, it’s too late for second-guessing. He rakes his fingers through his hair, sets it with hairspray, and quickly rubs the beard oil he bought in town yesterday into his whiskers. He takes a moment to look himself over while he clumsily does up the tie he borrowed from Pope.

This is as good as it’s gonna get.

He’s the designated driver tonight. By some miracle, he’s only five minutes late when he cruises into Pope’s driveway, where all three of the boys are waiting and sipping on beers.

‘Damn Fish, you look good,’ crows Santi as he climbs into the passenger seat, patting him on the shoulder. ‘You should get your hair cut at Shiv’s from now on.’

‘Only if you keep paying for it,’ retorts Frankie while he backs out of the driveway. He pauses as he changes gears, and adds in a grumble. ‘She’s making me use shampoo and conditioner.’

Pope barks in laughter, twisting in his seat to give Benny a knowing grin. ‘Someone had to, you caveman.’

The younger Miller brother ribs good-naturedly, ‘You ready for some action tonight, Fish? I brought some extra rubbers just in case.’

Meeting his eyes in the rearview mirror, Frankie rips into him mercilessly. ‘You know your small ass condoms don’t fit me, Benjamin.’ 

The car erupts with playful jeers, and the corner of his mouth lifts into a crooked smile as he palms the steering wheel.

‘That’s some fighting talk, Fish!’ goads Santi, punching him on the arm.

Will joins in the banter. ‘You better watch out, little bro. Big Dick Morales came out swinging tonight.’

Benny grins. ‘Ok, I see how it is. Let’s make it interesting, Fish. Whoever picks up a one night stand first wins a hundred bucks.’

Frankie shrugs in mock nonchalance and quips, ‘I mean, I can use the cash. Shampoo ain’t cheap.’

Benny chuckles and clasps his shoulder. ‘You’re on, man.’

It’s eight on the dot when you lock up the salon. While you did RSVP for wedding drinks - opting out of the sit-down dinner earlier in the evening - you hadn’t planned on actually going. But it seems like the whole town did, you’ve barely had two customers walk through the door all afternoon. 

So you let Ashton go home early, and after a quick snack, you take your time getting ready. Might as well have a Saturday night out - your first in many months.

The hotel is just a short Uber ride away. When you climb out of the car, you bite your bottom lip at the unfamiliar tension humming under your skin.

Nerves.

You’re nervous.

And worse, you know exactly what you’re nervous about. 

Or more precisely - who.

‘Pull it together, Shiv,’ you mutter under your breath. Steeling yourself, you stride into the hotel.

From his vantage point at the bar, Benny watches in amusement as Frankie glances towards the doors of the reception hall yet again. He doubts the pilot even knows he’s doing it, or at the very least, he doesn’t think that anyone would notice.

Grabbing his beer, Benny sidles up to his friend. ‘Looking for something, Fish?’

Frankie takes a sip of his Coke and feigns nonchalance. ‘Yeah, looking to win that hundred bucks from you.’

‘Dunno ‘bout that. I don’t see you trying very hard.’

‘Biding my time, Miller. Just make sure you have enough cash to -’ 

When Frankie breaks off in the middle of his sentence, Benny doesn’t need to look to wager a guess what caught his attention.

Turning around as you approach, he flings his arms out to give you a hug, eyeing you up and down appreciatively. ‘Babe, look at you all dressed up! Doesn’t she look nice, Fish?’

In lieu of an answer, Frankie stares intently at some invisible spot over your shoulder until Benny elbows him right in his stomach, jerking him out of his trance. ‘Fish?’

Frankie clears his throat and stutters. ‘Um. I - I don’t know.’

You arch an eyebrow at him. ‘You don’t know if I look nice?’

Benny has to stopper his mouth with beer so he doesn’t laugh out loud at the panic on Frankie’s face as he fumbles for a response. ‘I mean. Um, nice… pants?’

‘It’s a jumpsuit, Morales. Try to keep up,’ you reply and take two steps towards him, which has him backpedalling so fast that he upsets the table behind him, sending half-empty glasses spilling wine all over the white tablecloth.

‘What the fuck are you doing?’ he growls at you like a cornered stray.

Your eyes roll to the back of your head as you pull him upright by his tie. ‘Is he ok, Ben? He’s even jumpier than usual.’

‘Well, it’s a funny night for him. Watching his ex get married and all.’

‘I swear to God, Benjamin Miller, if you don’t shut the fuck up -’ 

‘Pipe down, Morales, we’re just messing with you,’ you shush him, tugging on his slightly skewed shirt collar to set it straight. ‘Can’t believe you own a tie.’

‘Borrowed it from Pope,’ he grunts without making eye contact.

Smoothing the lapels of his slightly crumpled suit jacket, you probe, ‘You’ve been using shampoo and conditioner like I asked?’

Frankie huffs a dry laugh. ‘I don’t remember you asking.’

‘Someone’s mouthy tonight,’ you tease. ‘And the beard oil?’

He concedes with a sigh. ‘Yes, Shiv.’

‘You look good, Francisco,’ you grin and reach up to push his curls back from his eyes.

He looks away as he admits, ‘Took three fucking tries.’

At least he holds still when you make small adjustments to his hair, shoulders stiff with hands stuffed deep into his pockets. You catch yourself missing the way he leaned into your touch in your salon, and you have to forcefully push that thought away as you push your fingers through the roots to boost the volume. His curls feel softer already than you remember them, with a noticeably healthier sheen. 

After a final rustle to loosen up his fringe, you wink at him. ‘Mark my words, the bride will rue the day she dumped your ass when she sees you.’

A voice from behind you interrupts. ‘It’s a bit too late for that now, isn’t it?’

Trading a look with Frankie, who gives you a sarcastic thumbs up, you put on a smile and turn on your heels. ‘Mrs. Morales, it’s been too long!’

‘I see you haven’t dyed my son’s hair like I requested,’ she says by way of a greeting, drawing you into an embrace.

Frankie’s taunt is so quiet that you nearly miss it. ‘Told you she’d come after you.’

Without skipping a beat, you elbow him in the ribs, ignoring his pained oomph from behind you. ‘You look wonderful tonight, ma’am.’ 

‘You can’t sweet talk your way out of my question, young lady.’

You cross your arms with a sigh. ‘I didn’t dye it because he looks good with the grays.’ 

‘Well, I don’t think so.’

‘In my professional opinion, he does,’ you retort pointedly.

‘If he looks so good, why is he still single?’

Frankie throws his hands up in exasperation. ‘Gee, thanks a lot ma.’

You turn to Benny, who has been silently watching you two spar. ‘What do you think, Miller?’

He dithers, eyes darting around in desperation until he spots Santi and his older brother coming back from the bar. ‘Look! Here are the guys, let’s ask them!’

‘Ask us what?’ asks Santi, giving you a kiss on the cheek and a glass of bubbly.

‘Do you think my son looks good with the grays?’

Your eyebrow twitches when Mrs. Morales carelessly ruffles his hair to emphasise her point. To your surprise, Frankie bats her away with an irritated ma!, before hastily rearranging it.

‘Your honest opinion, if you please,’ you add.

The boys hum and haw, sipping their beers and shooting uncertain looks between you and Mrs. Morales, clearly uncomfortable being caught in the middle. Upping the heat, you narrow your eyes at them, and Will folds first. 

‘Yeah, I mean - he looks good,’ he mumbles, avoiding the Morales matriarch's glare.

‘Pope?’ you prompt.

‘Cabrón rocking those grays,’ he nods supportively.

‘Ben?’

‘Uh huh,’ he replies vaguely, but at your menacing glare, clarifies, ‘Yes, I meant - yes, ma’am.’

Mrs. Morales scoffs. ‘They’re men, what do they know! I don’t see him catching any girls’ attention.’

Ah, that’s the easy part. You look around, scanning the crowds - and bingo, you see a brunette staring openly from across the dance floor. You hold up a finger for dramatic effect. ‘Excuse me for one second.’

Frankie looks ready for the earth to swallow him whole by the time you return with the said woman in tow. Pointing straight at him, you ask, ‘Lucy, this is Frankie. Do you think he’s hot with the grays?’

To her credit, she’s a good sport, and plays along with a cheeky wink. ‘Yeah, he is. You wanna dance, handsome?’

‘Yes, he absolutely does!’ you answer quickly before he can get a word in.

‘What the fuck, Shiv?’ Frankie seethes through clenched teeth, literally digging his heels in, but to his despair, his shoes skid uselessly on the tiled surface as you push him towards the dancefloor with this complete stranger. 

Leaning in close, you hiss in his ear, ‘You’re getting laid tonight if it kills me, Morales.’

‘Have fun, Fish!’ calls out Pope impishly, which earns him an emphatic middle finger. 

You beam at Mrs. Morales smugly. ‘And that’s how it’s done.’

‘You better keep it up, young lady,’ she says over her shoulder as she turns to leave.

You raise your drink. ‘Don’t you worry, Mrs M. I promise you - he’ll be leaving with his future wife tonight!’

Santi is minding his own business, sipping on his beer as he stakes out the ladies, when a hand shoots out from nowhere and snatches the bottle from him.

‘What the fuck, man?!’ he bristles indignantly.

Frankie polishes off the drink in one mouthful, before slamming it onto the table and demanding, ‘Where’s Shiv? I’m done. I’m not fucking dancing with anyone else.’

Pope jerks his thumb to the other side of the room. ‘She’s arguing with your mother.’

Frankie flops into a chair, the dress shoes that he never wears are pinching his feet and he fights the urge to kick them off. He folds his arms across his chest petulantly, one palm over his mouth as his eyes wander across the hall to you, where you’re gesturing madly at his ma, embroiled in an impassioned discussion, probably still about his damn hair.

You’re all dressed up tonight, which is new to him - he’s only ever seen you in jeans when you go out drinking with them, and he’s certainly never seen so much of you. The ‘jumpsuit’ (he learns something new every day) is black and cut low both front and back, and fuck, all he sees is soft skin and the dip of your curves and red lipstick -

Pope must have nipped to the bar while he wasn’t looking, and a fresh bottle of beer appears under his nose. Glancing up at his best friend, Frankie mutters, ‘Thanks.’

‘You can’t marry her, Fish.’

He chokes violently at the casual non-sequitur, spraying beer everywhere. ‘What the fuck, Pope.’

Santi beams. ‘You got that look on your face, man. I’ve seen that look before.’

‘I don’t have a look on my face.’

He chuckles, mostly to himself. 'Damn, I really should've seen this coming.'

‘What are you even on about -’ Looking up, Frankie spots you making your way over and panics. ‘Shut the fuck up, pendejo.’

‘Why aren’t you dancing, my little debutante?’ you ask when you come within earshot.

Santi chortles and takes his leave, clapping him on the shoulder. ‘Good luck, Fish.’

You sink into the empty seat next to him and he deliberately twists his body away from you, drinking deeply from his bottle to drown out Santi’s words ringing in his ears. 

‘So, I heard you have a bet going on with Benny. I want splitsies if you win.’

Frankie rolls his eyes, staring resolutely anywhere but at the swell of your cleavage. ‘No.’

‘40/60.’

‘Fuck off, Shiv.’

‘30/70?’ you counter-offer.

He sighs. ‘You’re impossible.’

Ignoring him, you jump up with a happy squeak when someone Frankie vaguely recognises as a girl who used to be in your class approaches with a shy smile. You pull her close by the crook of her arm and ask, ‘Morales, you remember Sadie?’

He tries not to scowl too openly as he too gets on his feet. ‘Sure, hi Sadie.’

Herding them towards the dancefloor, you grin, ‘Go dance, get reacquainted.’

As he passes by you, Frankie grits his teeth and curls his fingers into the meat of his palms to crush the urge to reach out and touch you. 

But it’s easier to fall into your well-rehearsed roles, to toe the line that has been drawn in the sand since you were teenagers. And easier is certainly the safer option when it comes to you.

So he throws you a deliberate glare over his shoulder, with a deadpanned, ‘I hate you.’

You blow him a kiss and grin wider.

Frankie can’t hold back a relieved sigh when the interminably long song finally ends, and the woman he’s dancing with - he won’t even pretend he remembers her name - tucks his phone back into the pocket of his jacket after tapping in her number. ‘Call me, gorgeous.’

He stopped counting after the eighth woman you shepherded his way. This is it. He’s not above hiding in the toilets if that’s what it takes to make this stop.

Except he’s not quick enough. He spots you out of the corner of his eye, marching straight towards him with a fresh glass of water and a look of purpose on your face.

He doesn’t exactly know what came over him. He could probably blame it on the one and a half beers that he downed, or being pushed to the end of his tether. Whatever it is, there’s something he has to say to you, and it can’t wait.

You push the glass into his grasp. ‘Here, hydrate.’

‘Shiv -’

You’ve already swivelled around, your focus somewhere else. ‘Where is she? She was literally just behind me -’

‘Shiv -’

‘Mind you, she’s a sweet girl, but clearly not the brightest tool in the -’

His patience snaps, and he barks, ‘Shiv!’

You spin around, brow furrowed in confusion, and snarl back, ‘What?’

Frankie pauses, and you blink as his warm eyes hold yours. On an exhale, he says, ‘You look nice tonight.’

You’re vaguely aware that your jaw has gone slack, but only because his eyes follow the movement, dropping to your mouth. He considers you for a moment, head tipping just slightly to the side as he watches you. Then, satisfied that he has your attention, he brings the glass of water to his lips, throwing his head back as he drinks. 

Your breath catches in your throat when his Adam’s apple bobs with his swallow, before he leisurely swipes his lips with the back of his hand.

Except in your mind, it’s not water that he’s wiping from his mouth.

In a perfectly mirrored imitation of what transpired between you earlier in the evening, he takes two measured steps forward, prompting you to back up against the table behind you. The tinkle of glasses falling over hardly registers in the back of your mind. 

The fabric of his suit is cool on your skin, brushing your bare arm as he looms over you, so broad and warm. Though his front barely makes contact, your peripheral vision gives and all you can see is him.

‘What are you doing?’ you croak the same words back at him, hating the way your voice shakes.

Frankie smiles - really smiles at you, with no colour of the usual irony or sarcasm. Warmth settles into the creases in the corners of his eyes as he holds up the empty glass. ‘Just putting my glass away,’ he says coolly, an edge of cockiness at your tragically obvious reaction to him.

You feel your cheeks heat up as he does just that - the back of his hand bumping into your forearm as he moves, the breadth of him pinning you against the table. He doesn’t pull away, clearly basking in the way the tables have well and truly turned -

‘Hi! You must be Frankie, I’m Jan.’

Frankie squeezes his eyes shut in irritation at the voice behind him, nostrils flaring as he collects himself. A resigned smile tugs at his lips, and he tips forward, his words grazing your ear. ‘Catch you later, Shiv.’

You only let your knees buckle when he’s safely out of sight.

You’ve barely stepped back into the reception hall from a much needed bathroom break to clear your head when someone grabs you by the arm, tugging you onto the dancefloor.

‘Benny!’ You reprimand, stumbling over your feet. ‘I’m busy.’

‘Relax, Shiv. Frankie can survive on his own for a second.’

‘You’re just jealous that he’s hogging all the ladies’ attention.’

He scoffs, palms on your waist as he sways to the music. ‘He has an unfair advantage, ok? How do I compete with the bride’s ex?’

Clasping your hands around Benny’s neck, you catch Frankie’s eye over his shoulder. You wink at him casually, having somewhat recovered your bravado - it’s easier to pretend from a distance anyway. He rolls his eyes at you over Jan’s head, but he doesn’t look away, watching you with a hint of something you can’t quite make out.

Glancing up at Benny, you ask a tad bashfully, ‘I know we give Frankie a hard time about all this, but is he - ok?’

‘Why don’t you ask him yourself?’

You hesitate. ‘Well, we’re not exactly that kind of friends.’

‘What do you mean?’

‘You know, the kind who sit around having heart-to-hearts and painting their nails.’

He raises an eyebrow. ‘What kind of friends are you, then?’ 

‘I don’t know, he probably doesn’t even count me as one,’ you admit. ‘He barely tolerates me on a good day.’

Benny shoots you a cryptic look, but before you can quiz him on it, he changes the subject abruptly. ‘Can I swing by the salon tomorrow morning? I have a promotional shoot at half past eleven.’

‘As long as you bring donuts and coffee.’

He twirls you around. ‘Deal.’

Frankie slinks out of the hotel, somehow managing to dodge both you and his mother on his way out, which he takes as a win.

It’s cold outside. He inhales deeply and feels it burn down his throat. Stuffing his hands into his pockets, he watches his breath mist in front of his face, savouring the quiet.

‘Hey.’

His shoulders stiffen. He knows he should’ve been the bigger man. Should’ve sought her out first, to congratulate her.

Should’ve, could’ve, would’ve.

When he turns around eventually, she smiles brightly at him, her engagement ring catching the lights.

Closing the space between them, he presses a kiss to her cheek. ‘Congratulations. You look beautiful.’

‘Thank you,’ she replies. ‘I’m glad you came. Your mum too - it was a long way to travel.’

His gaze falls to his shoes. ‘Yeah, well. You know she loves you.’

‘How are you?’ she presses on, always one for polite conversation. ‘Are you seeing anyone?’

Frankie shrugs but doesn’t answer.

‘Just because it didn’t work between us doesn’t mean I want you to be happy.’

He nods slowly. ‘I appreciate that.’

She points behind her. ‘Well, I should go back inside.’

‘Of course. I’m happy for you,’ he says. And he means it.

The hotel doors swing open, and Frankie looks up at the sharp clack of heels on the concrete. You pause at the sight of them by the curb.

‘Are you leaving, Shiv?’ the bride laments as you walk over to give her a hug.

‘I am, I’m afraid, gotta open up shop early tomorrow,’ you pull back. ‘Come by the salon any time, my treat.’

Once the bride is out of earshot, you turn to Frankie, hands on hips. ‘Alright, no more shirking, Morales. Get your ass back in there, your mother is on my case again.’

He folds his arms across his chest. ‘Oh no, I’m not going back in there without you.’

You sigh dramatically. ‘Am I the only one in this town who’s not scared of your mother?’

‘You should be,’ he snorts, then nods towards the parking lot. ‘C’mon, I’ll give you a lift.’

Taken aback by his offer, you hesitate. ‘Um - I thought you were the designated driver for the guys tonight.’

He brushes off your concerns with an easy shrug. ‘I’ll come back to get them after I drop you off.’ 

Typical Frankie - he walks off without even glancing back to see if you’re coming with him.

You smile to yourself and follow.

You must be drunker than you realised, because you’re staring. Again. For what must be the fifth time in the ten-minute drive.

It’s a lot of staring, even for you.

His jacket lies abandoned in the backseat, his tie jostled loose and the top two buttons of his shirt unfastened, sleeves bunched up to his elbows. You watch from the corner of your eye as his left hand grips the top of the steering wheel steady, fingers flexing every now and then on straight stretches of road.

As if you’re not already discreetly squeezing your thighs together, he’s also rubbing his right palm idly on his leg, the innocent rustle of fabric against skin getting you far too hot and bothered under the metaphorical collar. 

And then - your eyes trail higher - settling on the heavy bulge at the top of his spread thighs.

Fuck. You’re definitely drunk.

You mull silently to yourself that you actually prefer him in his beat-up jeans and threadbare t-shirts before catching yourself. You weren’t aware you had any preferences when it comes to Frankie Morales. And you have no business doing so.

Clearing your throat, you break the tense silence. Well, tense for you, anyway. He seems completely oblivious to your inner strife.

‘I’m sorry you didn’t win the bet.’

His lips quirk, but he keeps his eyes on the road.

‘I had another five girls lined up for you, you know.’

He scoffs. ‘No, thank you.’

You reach over to punch him on the arm playfully. ‘C’mon, you know you enjoyed the attention, Morales.’

‘You don’t know me very well, do you?’ he peers at you.

You make a face of disbelief. ‘If you hated it that much, why did you go along with it?’

Cruising into your street, his truck rolls to a smooth stop outside your salon. Frankie kills the ignition, then turns towards you. His answer is simple, and hits you right between the ribs. 

‘Because you wanted me to.’

You force a chuckle in a weak attempt to lighten the mood. ‘Since when did you care about what I wanted?’

He smooths his palm over the steering wheel and holds your gaze. ‘Sometime when I wasn’t looking.’

It would be simpler to pretend you didn’t understand what he means. To brush off this pull between you as a champagne-induced episode that you could sleep off. If you did, you could still show up at Tuesday nights drinks next week as if nothing has changed, and carry on.

It would be simpler. So you ask -

‘Do you want to come in for a nightcap?’

Frankie follows two steps behind you as you grapple with the keys on the doorstep. Once inside, the salon is quiet, and you strategically turn on the lights by the backwash, the semi-darkness making it more homey than it would have been if fully lit up. 

‘I would invite you upstairs -’ you pause and add hastily, ‘I don’t mean upstairs like, upstairs in that way - it’s just that my apartment is tiny, and the backwash is the closest thing I have to a couch. Are you okay with beer?’

‘Beer’s good, thanks,’ he answers. ‘Need a hand?’

You shake your head vehemently. ‘Oh god, please no - it’s a disaster upstairs. I’ll be right back.’

The rickety stairs creak loudly under your heels, and once you let yourself into your studio, you fall back heavily on the door, taking a second to catch your breath.

You invited him inside. 

He said yes.

You leap into action, shoving all your dirty laundry into the already full hamper. You try not to think too hard about why you’re cleaning up, you just hope you’re not making too much of a ruckus while you’re at it - because you have a boy waiting for you downstairs. 

Francisco Morales, of all people.

Despite having been in each other’s lives since high school, you’re pretty sure you’ve never been alone with him. Not even once. There’s always a buffer with Pope on his side, Benny on yours, and Will in the middle. And while some find Frankie hard to read, you’ve always known exactly how to act around him. You have an unwritten playbook - you bait him with cheap jokes, more often than not joining forces with Benny to gang up on him. He rolls his eyes and snaps at you to shut up. It’s the longest running show in town.

But this? Alone, after his ex’s wedding, in your salon? You’re going off-script and off-piste. Dangerous enough on a good day; outright stupid after a night of drinking.

Frankie is quick to help when you reappear, armed with beer and a bag of ice, using the backwash sink as a makeshift cooler. Your shoes clatter onto the floor as you settle in the chair next to his. Hugging your knees, you hold out your bottle, which he clinks with his.

‘Did you have fun tonight?’ you ask, rather mundanely.

‘As much fun as one is expected to have at an ex’s wedding,’ he answers with a sardonic smile. Taking a sip of beer, he adds, ‘Gotta admit, you winding up my ma pretty much made up for it.’

‘That never gets old,’ you smirk. ‘Although, I promised your mother you’d leave with your future wife tonight - so that’s a bust.’

You startle when Frankie chokes on his beer, his eyes visibly watering as he thumps a fist on his chest. When you ask if he’s ok, he won’t meet your gaze, downing more of his beer.

Not thinking anything of it, you move on. ‘You know, she sent a bunch of customers my way when I first opened up the salon.’

His voice is still a bit tight from his coughing fit. ‘And I’m sure she’ll deny it till the day she dies.’

‘I can’t figure her out,’ you admit. ‘I can’t decide if she hates me or not.’

‘She doesn’t hate you. She just doesn’t understand you.’

You hum, unconvinced.

He nudges your knee with his. ‘She was really proud of you when you opened the salon, you know.’

You toss him a sidelong glance. ‘You talk to your mum about me?’

He’s ambiguous in his answer. ‘She asks after you sometimes.’

‘And how would you have anything to say to her? We’re not exactly bosom buddies.’

Frankie concedes with a wry smile, ‘Benny talks.’

‘Ha!’ you laugh, echoing his words from a few days ago back at him. ‘Benjamin fucking Miller.’

He goes quiet for a second, looking around your salon as if taking stock. ‘It’s pretty amazing that you’ve built all this.’

The unexpected compliment catches you blindsided. You reply diplomatically, ‘Ashton helps me loads.’

Frankie’s eyes widen in feigned surprise. ‘Are you going humble on me now? What have you done to Shiv?’

‘Shut up,’ you grumble good-naturedly, adding, ‘Ben tells me you’re doing really well yourself.’

‘Yeah. I got promoted at work last month, and I’m saving up for a house,’ he replies, a hint of pride in his voice. ‘Things are looking up.’

‘You’re actually acknowledging your achievements?’ you gasp in mock outrage. ‘What have you done to Francisco Morales?’

With a shrug, he leans forward to put his empty beer bottle in the sink, but he doesn’t sit back. Instead, he sways even closer, one palm landing on the leather of your seat next to your knee, eyes darting to your lips. His voice is deep as he rasps, ‘Can I kiss you?’

It would be so easy to say yes, but when have you ever made things easy for yourself? 

Instead, you blurt out, ‘Why?’

Frankie looks amused, like he expected this from you. Slowly, not wanting to spook you, he gently plucks the beer that you’ve barely drunk from your grasp.

‘Because all fucking night, while you were throwing woman after woman at me, I just wanted to have a drink with you.’

He leans in close. 

You stop breathing.

‘Because since Wednesday, every time I wash my hair, I get hard thinking of you touching me.’

Closer still.

Your lungs ache.

‘And because when you told me to go harder, deeper - I nearly lost my fucking mind.’

He’s hovering over you now, and you can almost taste the bitter sweetness of the beer on his breath. He smirks at you, but there’s only warmth and mischief in it when he teases, ‘Speechless for once?’

‘Shut up, Morales,’ you breathe and grab him by the collar of his shirt.

And then you’re kissing him. You’re kissing Frankie, and he’s kissing you back.

It’s messy, and disorientating, and you clumsily fumble over each other until he’s sitting up in one of the chairs, with your thighs on either side of his narrow hips as you straddle him. He’s licking up into your mouth, sucking on your bottom lip, his hands gripping your sides almost painfully hard.

‘Is this really happening?’ you garble into his lips, ripping off his tie and undoing his shirt buttons as fast as your shaking fingers allow you to.

‘If you want it,’ he mumbles back, loath to pull back from you even for a second to shuck off his shirt. ‘If you want me.’

He kisses you wet and insistent, but he doesn’t push you, waiting for you to make up your mind. Reaching behind you, you tug on the tie that holds your jumpsuit together with a decisive pull, letting the fabric ripple down your bare front and pool around your waist.

Frankie bites his bottom lip so hard it goes white. ‘Fuck,’ he cusses, his grip on your hips twitching as he stares at your tits. ‘Can I, please -?’

‘Touch me, Francisco.’

Your poor second-hand Ikea bed that Benny helped set up when you moved in was not made for this.

This being the way Frankie effortlessly tosses you onto the mattress, his arms flexing with an easy strength that goes straight to your head, as you stare giddily up at him.

His hair - your handiwork - has been well and truly undone, errant strands falling over his eyes as he watches you, his broad frame looming over the foot of the bed. He pulls at his belt, which falls open with a careless clink, and he makes quick work of his now crumpled trousers, kicking them off impatiently.

Your head is swimming, yet somehow, you muster the strength to shuffle towards the edge of the bed, rearranging yourself to sit on your haunches, knees folded neatly beneath you. Boldly, you reach out to slide his dark boxers down his hips, and they fall around his knees and onto the floor. His cock springs free, half-hard and heavy, and Frankie swallows thickly as you tilt your face towards him.

‘I want to suck your cock.’

His eyes close as if he’s in pain, nostrils flaring at your words. Taking advantage of his distraction, you wrap one careful hand around his length, and he jerks violently at the first velvety slide of your palm against him. 

‘Fuck, Shiv -’ he chokes, eyes flying open at the contact, pupils completely blown. He protests weakly, ‘No, stop, need to get you off first -’

You shoot him a lopsided smile, pumping him slowly, your pulse racing at the way you feel him swell in your grasp. ‘Can we not argue this one time?’

You lean forward and, holding his gaze, flatten your tongue and lick your way up the underside of his cock. His breath stutters, one big hand moving to cradle the back of your head, his eyes wide and almost frantic as you press open-mouthed kisses on his sensitive flesh.

With an insolent grin, you tease, ‘You’re a big boy, aren’t you, Morales?’

He whimpers, and you know you have him.

His size is obvious by sight, but you really feel it in the pressure bearing down on the hinge of your jaw as you sink down on his cock, fighting to squeeze the girth of him into your mouth. The guttural groan from Frankie makes your pussy clench, and he tastes like he looks - clean, and all man. 

There’s no way you can take all of him, but you’ll be damned if you don’t try. He’s hot under your touch, muscles pulled taut with tension that you can feel thrumming under his skin as you take your time with him. Focusing on your breathing and relaxing your throat, you bob patiently up and down on him, slicking up his length with your spit, working him slightly deeper with every stroke - until you’re so full of him that you gag, hard.

Frankie is slack-jawed when you release him with an obscenely wet pop, spit trailing from your lips to the swollen tip of his cock, eyes wild as swipes his thumb across your puffy bottom lip. 

‘You’re beautiful,’ he declares, almost solemnly.

Slinking down his front, one hand securely around the base of his cock, you take him between your lips again, moaning at the salty taste of his precum, which makes him quake above you. As you swallow his length and pump your fist in tandem, your spit wetting your fingers, you peer up at him through your lashes - nothing could’ve prepared you for the utter wreckage that you find on his face. 

His lips are pulled back, baring his tidy teeth into a snarl as he very clearly struggles to hold himself back from fucking your mouth. You feel every bump and vein in his cock with each descent, the wet squelches filling in the gaps of his low grunts and moans. His grip in your hair stings as he starts panting in earnest above you, and somehow he gets even harder on your tongue, making it harder to breathe - 

‘Stop, stop,’ he wheezes suddenly, pulling back in a hasty retreat that has you whining at the sudden loss of him. ‘C’mere.’

He practically hauls you up against him, kissing you deeply, delving into your mouth to taste the bitterness of himself on your tongue. The world tilts on its axis when he tips you back onto the bed, and holding himself above you, he peels the jumpsuit off, leaving you in just your panties.

‘Gonna eat you out, baby,’ he drawls by your ear, trailing one palm up your body, which stops at your tits and squeezes. ‘Get you good and ready to take my big cock. How does that sound?’

‘Fuck, yes, Frankie, please,’ you beg.

There’s no shyness when he pushes your legs up and apart, and instead of taking your panties off, he hooks a finger under the thin fabric and pulls it to the side, his eyes darkening as he stares down at you.

‘So pretty,’ he praises you lowly. Holding your breath as he sinks onto his front, you breathe heavily in anticipation as his shoulders slot neatly underneath your legs. ‘Look at how wet you are for me. All this from sucking my cock?’

You nod frantically. ‘Frankie -’

Straight to the point as always, he ducks his dark head and drags the broad of his tongue over your clit - and you’re gone.

Admittedly, you have not had the best experiences with your exes. There was always too much gratuitous moaning and too little finesse, and afterwards, they always act like they deserve a medal for failing to get you off. But even if your past lovers had been more adequate in the field, you’re sure it still wouldn’t have prepared you for this. 

Frankie goes about it with a quiet focus that veers on reverential, the intensity in his dark eyes watching you makes your knees weak. He’s obviously picking up signs and reactions from you and adjusting his game plan accordingly, the pilot in him clearly in the driver’s seat. 

Not that he’s silent - far from it, you feel the reverberation in your core with every satisfied  hum deep in his chest, and the occasional, muttered fuck, so wet, want more in between licks and groans. But there’s nothing performative or showy about it, just a forthright competency that has you hurtling towards a toe-curling orgasm.

‘Frankie,’ you whine when you feel it about to hit. ‘Frankie Frankie Frankie -’

‘Eyes on me,’ he slurs against your sopping folds, and you listen - for once - watching him watch you fall apart on his tongue, thrashing in his hold as he grips you harder to keep you in place while he laps you up, until the burn of his patchy beard on your inner thighs makes you arch away from him from overstimulation.

Your pussy is still fluttering when he sinks two thick fingers into you, and he hisses at the way it clenches around him as he fucks you, leaving his digits slicked and slippery.

‘So tight, baby,’ he declares through gritted teeth, working you open for him. ‘Gonna feel so fucking good on my cock.’

You point towards the nightstand. ‘First drawer,’ you pant.

Needing no further prompting, Frankie yanks your panties off and flings the soaked scrap of fabric over his shoulder, then lunges at the cupboard where the condoms are. You scrape your nails over his thighs as he kneels over you, his usually steady hands visibly trembling as he tears into the wrapper and rolls the rubber over his heavy cock. He watches you with hooded eyes and settles between your legs, kissing you desperately as the swollen tip of him nudges at your entrance.

‘Ready?’ he asks, nose skimming yours sweetly.

You wind your arms around his neck, holding him close. ‘Fuck me, Frankie.’

The first push is a tight squeeze, and you can’t help the wince at the slight pinch as he sinks into you slowly. With a grunt of effort, he buries face into the slope of your neck and breathes, ‘Fuuuuck. You ok?’

‘Give me a second,’ you gasp, feeling your walls throb tightly around his length. ‘You’re so big, Frankie.’

He tangles his tongue with yours lazily in a deep kiss, before brushing his way down your throat and sucking on one nipple, making you cry out. He murmurs against your skin, ‘I know, but you’re doing so well for me, baby.’

Shifting your hips, Frankie groans when you slide him in deeper, the friction making you quiver beneath him. ‘Move, Frankie, please.’

He starts carefully, his strokes measured and deliberate, making sure you feel every inch of him as he draws back then sinks back in, exhaling shakily. ‘You feel so fucking good.’

‘Harder,’ you demand when you feel your pussy relax around him. ‘Fuck me harder.’

‘Shit,’ he growls and snaps his hips, drawing a squeal from you as he hits somewhere deep inside. You wrap your legs around his waist, bracing yourself as he drives into you again and again and again, the bedframe hitting the wall with each thrust.

‘So good, Frankie,’ you plead in between hard pants. ‘Keep going. Don’t stop -’

Looking up at him, you admire the way his hair falls over his eyes, swaying with his movement. Absent-mindedly, your fingers wander into his curls and his reaction is instant - he cries out, arching into your touch, his hips faltering as he seems to lose his rhythm. ‘Oh fuck, baby, been thinking about those hands all fucking week, just wanted to feel you touch me again -’

As wrecked as you are on his cock, you smile at his confession and slide your hands languidly in his locks, dragging your nails on his scalp, your chest swelling with pride when you watch his face - dazed and completely wrecked - fucking you so hard that you’re sure the bed is about to break.

When he finds his voice again, it’s your real name that slips past his lips. ‘Gonna cum so hard, oh fuck - I’m gonna -’

Frankie’s thrusting frantically into you, eyes screwed shut until his hips stutter and then - after one perfect moment of stillness suspended in time - shudder after shudder thunder through his body, your name a broken record as he spills into the condom, his scratchy baritone moaning into your neck as the frenzied energy bleeds out of him.

His weight pins you to the bed as he catches his breath, and you play with his curls gently, basking in the rumbling purr in his chest as you run the strands between your fingers. Eventually, gathering himself, he rolls off you to let you breathe, tying the condom neatly and tossing it into the trash can.

For a second, Frankie lies on his side, watching you quietly. You watch him back, casting your gaze over the curls stuck to his sweaty forehead and his broad outline backlit by your nightstand light. Before self-consciousness can settle into the small distance between you, he cracks a smile and quips, ‘You did say I’d get laid even if it killed you.’

You laugh, which makes him grin. One strong arm reaches out to tuck you into his side, securely beneath the duvet. You hum at the tickle of his beard on the back of your neck and the steady rise and fall of his chest behind you.

Right on the cusp of sleep, you sass, ‘Guess you’ll have to split the winnings with me after all.’

Any other day, you would’ve woken up if you heard someone on the stairwell. Hell, you’d hear if they were knocking on the salon door downstairs.

When you’re rudely shaken awake by frantic knocking on the studio door, you realise it’s because your hearing has been impaired by the side of a very warm body smooshed into your ear.

‘Shiv! Open up! I need to leave in fifteen minutes for my photoshoot!’

‘Shit,’ you croak, throat dry, limbs flailing as you try to sit up. ‘I forgot about Benny.’

‘Fuck him’, grouses Frankie, pulling you back into his arms, eyes still closed.

‘I can’t, I promised to help him with his hair. Fuck, do we need to hide you, or -’

‘The door’s thin, Shiv, I can hear him. And we put two and two together when you guys disappeared last night. We're pretty, but we ain't dumb!’

Frankie lets you go with a grumbled Benjamin fucking Miller under his breath, but he visibly perks up when you stumble out of bed naked.

You half-jokingly shield your boobs from his view. ‘Are you perving on me, Morales?’

He smirks, leaning back into the pillows with his hands folded behind his head while he eyes you appreciatively. It’s not fair how his triceps flex deliciously with the movement. ‘Why bother covering up? I’ve seen everything already.’

Trying - and failing - to shoot him a stern scowl, you pull on a robe and yank the door open, nearly careening backwards at the sight of Benny’s grinning face right in the doorway. 

‘Since when did you bang paying customers?’ he demands in lieu of a good morning.

You roll your eyes and usher him downstairs. ‘He’s not a paying customer. He’s on Pope’s tab.’

Benny flops into his usual chair, making it squeak, one eyebrow up as he does the air quotes. ‘Well, I guess we now know what kind of friends you guys are.’

‘Shut up, Miller,’ you gripe, but your mouth twists into a grin, giving you away as you set up.

‘Damn, that good, huh?’ he laughs. ‘I mean, Fish does have a rep, but I've never had insider confirmation.’

You point your styling scissors at him menacingly. ‘Shut up, or I won’t be held responsible if my hands slip by accident.’

Benny feeds you a sugar donut while you work quickly, trimming the ends before styling it, going for a tousled bed head look. You hear the water pipes run upstairs and the carpeted floors creak when Frankie gets up. Trying to play it cool, you only briefly glance up, catching a glimpse of him in the mirror as he makes his way down the stairs in his rumpled shirt and trousers, zipping up the fly when he reaches the bottom.

‘Morning, stud,’ sing-songs Benny, which earns him a slap on the head. ‘Ow! What the fuck, Shiv!’

Frankie loiters behind you for a second, scratching the back of his neck, before pulling you to one side. Not that it affords you much privacy anyway, with Benny wriggling his eyebrows impertinently at the two of you in the mirror.

‘I - uh -,’ he starts haltingly, one hand rubbing at the silver patch in his beard sheepishly. ‘I had a really good time last night.’

‘Yeah, me too,’ you smile.

His voice dipping lower, he asks, ‘Can I take you out to dinner sometime?’

Benny, being the shithead that he is, interjects loudly. ‘Hey lovebirds, I’m kind of on the clock here, if you don’t mind -’

‘She’ll get to you when she gets to you, Benjamin,’ snaps Frankie, one hand on his hip and the other pointing a stern finger at him.

Something about him being so assertive sends heat running up and down your spine. Stepping into his space - beaming when he doesn’t back away - you smooth a palm over the front of his shirt, unintentionally catching the rabbiting of his heart underneath.

‘I don’t know,’ you shrug nonchalantly. ‘Do you intend to come back as a cash-paying customer?’

His eyes flash with want, one hand closing around your hip and he leans down to let his heated words brush by your ear. ‘Not if I can keep paying in other ways.’

Reaching up, you run a hand through his curls, preening at the way he closes his eyes at your touch. ‘Alright then, take me to dinner, Francisco.’

Peering around you, Frankie barks, ‘Miller, I’m cashing in on our bet.’

‘Fuck’s sake. I was hoping you’d forgotten about that,’ he gripes, digging into his wallet reluctantly.

Swiping the bill from Benny, Frankie winks at you before pressing a lingering kiss to the corner of your mouth - chaste, but charged with meaning. ‘Looks like you paid for your own dinner, Shiv.’

With a roll of your eyes, you shake your head and playfully push him towards the door. ‘Get outta here before I change my mind!’

‘Yeah right - as if you would now that you know what you’ll be missing.’

You’re not sure which makes your jaw drop - his cocksure declaration or the roguish confidence with which he walks out the door. In either case, Benny howls with laughter as you struggle to stay on your feet, your kneecaps having been rendered completely useless.

Just as Frankie climbs into his truck, Ashton whistles to a stop outside the salon on his wheels. Jaw dropping at the sight of the disheveled pilot nodding at him through the windscreen, he abandons his bike right on the curb and dashes into the salon, the door banging against the wall as he rushes in.

‘Excuse me - what the fuck did I just miss?’ he demands frantically.

You roll your eyes. ‘Calm down, Ashton, it’s not what it looks like -’

‘It’s exactly what it looks like,’ interrupts Benny as he starts singing. ‘Shiv and Frankie sitting in a tree, F-U-C-K-I-’

He breaks off with a yelp when you stuff a donut into his mouth to shut him up, sugar flying everywhere as Ashton picks you up and spins you around, squealing like a banshee the entire time.

‘You guys are the fucking worst,’ you laugh, out of breath by the time Ashton lets you go.

Glancing outside, where Frankie is still parked watching the whole embarrassing episode, he gives you one last wink and an amused grin before he pulls away from the curb.

In an almost exact repeat of the scene from a few days ago, Ashton joins you at the window, and the two of you watch, shoulder to shoulder, as Frankie smoothly steers his truck out of your street.

‘He even drives sexy,’ sighs Ashton dreamily. Nudging you in the side, he adds slyly, ‘You’re in so much trouble, Shiv.’

You grin. You know you are - and luckily, it’s not a spot of bother that you’ll be in a hurry getting out of anytime soon.

Notes: I'm so excited to have finally completed this little two-shot. The two of them have been hanging out in my head all these months, it feels amazing to finally yeet this part into the world! Thank you so much for reading, I hope you had as much fun as I did with these two 🥰 Reblogs and comments are always greatly appreciated ❤️

Now that I've got you here, if you want more of Shiv, I wrote some silly little drabbles of her hair appointments with our handsome Pedro boys for a recent milestone celebration. There are also some fun thoughts that came out of an impromptu Grays sleepover we had last week 🤍

I'm sure we'll see more of Shiv and Frankie somewhere down the line. For now, thank you again, I love you all so much ❤️

[littlebabycrybtch]

bro..... im sooo tired of ppl being whiny freaks about ppl liking fictional shit ‘~too much~’. like bitches are literally fully convinced if you prefer acting out certain ideas in fiction but not irl, thats not your normal preferential boundaries but rather your brain is a mental illness BOMB and you need to be fucking hospitalized for being imaginative and having autonomy. like yall if its not taboo or smth shut uuuuhp man you’re not ‘concerned for their health’ or w/e you’re fully just tryna get away with being a nihilistic asshole who lacks sympathetic reasoning skills. listen to me. fiction is valuable. the thoughts we have on it are important. the personal lack of value you happen to put on a media is next to worthless. its not a fuckin waste of time dude, creators are people, who live in the real world, they experience it and have ideas through it and about it, they form and tweak their ideas while still definitely existing in the real world, and then put that back into the world with a new angle and new perspective, to share with other people definitely encountering it in , you guessed it , the real world. thats not disconnected. its not nothing. these things do not magically appear from fairytale land, they are created. stories mean smth, people tell them for a reason, its ok to feel smth for any story, why would we even tell them if not with the intention to impact others emotionally somehow i mean??? fiction does not Just affect reality, it is valuable to real life society, it is a functioning thriving part OF reality. 

humans have told stories since the dawn of our existence. it is literally all but an inherent species trait for us to imagine things, its tied to each and every one of us, and to reject ‘fantasy’ as smth worthless to human life is frankly just fuckin wrong and weird of you. bitch we are Supposed to get outside the box, the fandom ppl you cringe your pants over arent thinking abt fake shit too much, you guys very often just arent exercising abstract thought and imagination enough, which actually hurts your ability to engage with it critically in all the ways its meant to be. if you dont see the value in fiction its because you put in no effort to form the analysis skills. in other words, you idiots dont get the hype bc you’re too stupid to get how you're supposed to compare a book to the real world it came from. ‘uu but cmon not everythings valuable what about [tumblr designated cringe media]-’ 1. ok! somehow you havent come to this conclusion yourself yet but thats not real, whatever ppl get to enjoy is not all abt you, your bias means less than dirt to others outside of hivemind social medias, you can keep it to yourself, ppl shouldnt care about it bc it means nothing outside of ur own space, its literally funny to me that you’re so elitist you want me to cater my interests to you, Your Standard Of Quality Isnt Universal, 2. ranking the values of fiction is the waste of time here, if you compare mlp to pride and prejudice ill dissect your teeth, different emotional impacts from tragic to funny to Just A Vibe are all able to be assessed as ‘valuable to somebody else so leave well enough alone’ if you dont have 2010+ funnyman brainrot disease that makes you incapable of reflecting on anything you can find a way to joke abt first.

i mean seriously like. whenever randos start engaging with medias you ppl dont like or in ways you dont get, the strawmans yall make up to get to be cringe culture vultures abt such benign shit, and almost Always at the expense of neurodivergent people with a deeply rooted undertone of extreme ableism might i add..... its just so selfish. u have a brain ok, you’re manipulative but we both know you dont Actually think ppl automatically default to being a waifu obsessed incel rotting away at their basement computer, stagnating their social skills and straying further and further from reality with each passing day, a poor disturbed wretch that you just HAVE to save from themselves, all bc they say they. prefer fictional porn or w/e to having sex irl. buddy thats not a big deal, theyre normal, just different from you. theyre fine, you’re just uncomfortable. as a functioning adult you’re gonna have to try and recognize that sometimes that feelings gonna be 100% on you, and you cant always just lie abt the validity of it to make ppl feel obligated into agreeing with you. this is gonna be one fragment of their personhood and your self obsessed brain imploding over how unrelatable that is doesnt fucking matter, grow up bitch like. how detached do you have to be to think thats so unstable or morally wrong.... its just a completely inconsequential preferential decision that only affects them and isnt a wrong choice at all cuz nobody has to get their dick wet if they dont wanna for any reason ever and thats gotta be that tbh.... and it kills me cuz they still inherently experience the real world and are capable of thinking abt it critically,,, even tho they... masturbate to drawings or w/e the fuck ppl think is unhealthy ???? like? imagination is just fun we dont need to moderate it anymore than we moderate other fun activities i mean lol ksdjfsd this is the DEFINITION of ‘just vibing’ no one FUCKING cares and it deosnt fucking matter the way you desperately try to make ppl think it does just so u get to be loud abt ur shortcomings as a decent understanding person. 

‘uuuuuu im sorry but thats unhealthy :///’ you sound like a goddamn maniac dude stories are not unhealthy having feelings abt them is not unhealthy thinking some anime bitch that was DRAWN TO BE HOT , IS HOT, is not UNHEALTHY and you clowns arent convincing anybody you ‘care’ abt that concept anyways !! im losign my mind here skdlsdfsd medias are literally DESIGNED TO DO THIS TO PEOPLE... WE’RE SUPPOSED TO FEEL THINGS FOR IT.... IT IS WHAT MAKES THE ART WE’VE TAKEN PART IN FOR CENTURIES, “ART”.... ITS JUST... HAVING IDEAS AND EXPERIENCING IMAGINATION..... whats wildly unhealthy actually is yalls toxic obsession with ‘harsh truth’ and validating your stupid ass cwinge feewings to the point where everything that gives your underdeveloped selfish ass hives has to be a matter of health and morals and whats ‘best’ for everyone. u dont know that shit!!!! ur a petty brat and im not ur mommy ok i wont baby you so u dont feel like the shitty whiny person you are, you need to grow and do better and think outside urself already, dont put the responsibility of making u feel right for judging somebodies benign hobbies on me. i wont bc its wrong and unnecessary. you’re not a savior no ones falling for that lmao you’re just a bitch girl xoxo get over it shit truly does not matter. let them write nsfw self insert fics instead of banging !! 

to make it real do yall really not Get that basic consent kinda doesnt just mean ‘no when im not in the mood at the time’ but it means ‘no if i just dont fuckin feel like having sex ever for literally any reason at all bc i choose what i do’ and pressuring them, even with what your warped brain translates as the best of intentions, is inherently disgusting? especially with the ‘i know how to help you’ attitude like......... ohhh die soonly ew lmao! lay off this nasty shit already please it doesnt matter! stop trying to make it matter!! its not hurting you or them you stupid tumblr phd ass!! and like again yeah some media shits just truly gross but tbr now its like even That kind of shit, the Real social issues caused by Actually problematic media that ppl should discuss Genuinely without ulterior motives, is being used more and more rampantly as just a stepping stone to get to the needless mockery of other harmless things in the media they want an excuse to bag on.......... like a bitch cant just be grown and talk about problems at face value without getting a bully jab in. smhhhhh you all fuckin suck please just stop talking already. so anyways yeah being attracted to fictional characters instead of real people or w/e IS funny, funny how many boyfriends they have when u have none xoxo theyre having fun and you can die sad abt it they get to die 5 times in an angsty fantasy fic and be brought back with mouth to mouth by fuckin kakashi every time and then they go get lunch irl while ur updating tinder bitch ... different fucking strokes ig !

[matriarchjojo]

───𝐖𝐇𝐀𝐓 𝐀 𝐒𝐔𝐑𝐏𝐑𝐈𝐒𝐄!

BONTENS BABY

18+, suggestive, objectification, kidnapping, reader has a shitty dad, reader is tied up, and the trio are being gross,

you were on your way home and suddenly you felt hands grab you and you were in a car with three handsome men

All chars are over 18 ⊹ reader's skin color is not mentioned ⊹ mdni

“byee! see you tomorrow girls~”

you yelled out to your friends going into a different direction home, your equally pink and bubbly friend group waved back and yelled something about how they cant wait to see you again before blowing kisses to you, you blew kisses back and giggled, as you started walking into the direction of the train station.

as you were walking along black car swerved in front of you and two men got out of the vehicle, and as you tried to run away, the two lilac haired men caught up to you very quickly

“don't struggle, pretty girl..we dont wanna make this hard for you~” the taller man whispered into your ear as he and the other man swung ropes around your stomach, pinning your arms to your sides and then tying your hands. all with red ropes.

the man with the longer hair put a red cloth in your mouth and tied it behind your head, keeping it tightly in between your lips.

“gotta give it to ya, kid. you aren't too bratty” You furrowed your eyebrows angrily and tried pouting your lips to look intimidating and angry, but you just looked like a spoiled little child who didn't get what she wanted.

the taller man laughed “how cute, now get in the car, kid.”

you didn't know why you didn't struggle more and you usually loved that on the streets you walked to the trainstation you never walked into a lot of people but now you cursed it.

Once you got thrown into the backseat of the big car and you landed on your back, your skirt got hiked up, exposing your almost see through panties to the pink haired man staring down at you that you just noticed was there. the two men who tied you up got into the front seats and immediately started to drive.

you looked at the man with the two scars on each side of his mouth, blinking his eyes from your panties back up to your pretty and pouting face. “why’re you lookin' so angry, little one?”

your eyes suddenly widened as he said this, your thighs clenched a bit and the man noticed this, he didn't know how to react to that. are you seriously turned on by being kidnapped by obviously dangerous men? Well, that means at least that the ride won't be boring for him.

"Don't you dare touch the girl, haru." The man with the purple mullet said in a strict tone, lighting the cigarette that was in his mouth. Well, at least you won't have to worry about the men touching you without your consent

“calm your tits, i wasn't gonna touch her.” The pink haired man turned around in the seat to look at the man “no sexual mind games either”

the scarred man turned back to you with a groan and him rolling his eyes dramatically, you began to whine and writhe against the restraints to which the purple mullet man sighed “look toots, if your dad doesnt pay up soon, you’re gonna stay with us for a while, we arent too excited about having a spoiled little bitch with us either, okay?”

your dad? pay up?

what were they talking about, who the fuck are these men?...and why aren't you more afraid of the situation??

Sanzu looked back again and tapped the man he was arguing with just a second ago on the shoulder “gimme a cig” the purple haired man just scoffed “i'm not giving you one again! buy your own fuckin' cigs. maybe stop spendin’ so much cash on pills then you can get your own cigarettes and don't havecto fuckin' bother me!'' the pink haired man just grumbled

“c’mon just gimme one!” suddenly the taller man spoke up for the first time since you got in the car

“show some manners. We have a guest. and sanzu, if you don't shut up, i'm gonna throw you out of the car like last time..then you can walk to the base”

a guest? more like a hostage! The pink man sat back down and mumbled something about how annoying the two men were and lazily placed his cheek in the palm of his hand. It was finally quiet again, and you looked into the rear view mirror just to see the two men staring at you but quickly looking away once you caught them staring at you. but the man with the scars was less shy about staring at you and your body.

because his eyes were just straight up glued to you, and when you tried to cover yourself up by pressing your legs to your stomach, he just got a view of your perfect ass now, and you don't know why but when you saw that he was hard, just by looking at you, you got excited..if you were being honest and you saw him outside of this car and situation you would think he was very, very attractive.

“sanzu, get her outta the car, we’re here.”

the tall man said, making the scarred man grin and grab you by the hips before getting out of the vehicle, once outside of the car you saw that you were inside of a garage of some kind.

Were they gangsters or something? you finally questioned yourself. the man swung you over his shoulder with your ass right next to his face

“can't you just let her walk and hold her so that she doesn't run away?” The man with the mullet asked in front of the two of you “why? ya don't like the view?” You suddenly got a light smack on the ass making you yelp

“i told you to not touch her like that, you fucker!” he complained. “Then why don't you carry her?! try to resist it!”

suddenly the man carrying you chuckled “ya like what you see, huh, kakucho?” You whined again and lifted your legs to cover up your ass with your feet pressed against your ass “aww, don't be shy, it's okay” the pink man mocked with a condescending laugh. “just put her down on the couch. She's obviously not comfortable with this”

the man you assumed was kakucho said, That was actually sweet, but then again, you weren't comfortable with anything that happened! the man sat you down on a red couch, and you angrily looked at him with your hands behind your back balled up into fists.

“don't look at your fuckin daughter and just get the fuck out” another man with a deep voice said, your head was about to whip around to look at your father but the tall purple haired man just gently grabbed your face with both hands

“nuh-uh!” he giggled and looked past you to watch the three men throw your dad out “escort this fucker out” the man said to two other random men, you then heard the door shut and you were about to cry but you got the ropes off of your body and could finally talk again, you looked back to see who took those off and saw a man with silver hair, looking like he hadnt slept in months.

“don't even try to run away, you understand?” you just submissively nodded “good girl.” he said with a raspy tone and sat down on one of the red chairs to look at you “you know what's happening?”

he asked like this was the most normal thing in the world. you just shyly shook your head, and another bwhite haired man came in front of you

“your dad owes us a shit ton of money. and that's why you’re here, we’re not gonna hurt you, but if your dad doesn't pay up, you'll stay with us.”

you bit your lip nervously, and you saw how the eye of the long white-haired man twitched “well..i get that you are scared, but, again, we won't hurt you. only if you misbehave, alright? you can live here like it's your home” the short white-haired man spoke up again “do you understand?” You gulped and quietly spoke up

“wh..what will happen if i...misbehave?” you asked cutely with your hands nervously between your thighs, and you were looking up at the tall men

fuck

you looked hot.

The men knew everyone in this room would try to make a move on you.

mikey cleared his throat

“you will be punished, obviously.” That didn't really answer the question, but you were too afraid to ask again and just nodded. mikey nodded back and sat up, “do whatever she asks. It will make it easier for us.'' Mikey frankly didn't want to hurt you, so he didnt want you to act up, takeomi on the other hand thought this was a bad idea, that you would just act like a brat if they did spoil you.

“are you sure that's a good idea, boss?” he asked the smaller man as he followed close behind him, mikey side eyed him

“do you wanna hurt her? if she starts acting up, we will have to punish her once, and she will understand how this works.”