#feel free to add things I may have missed though!

[luulapants]

Existential despair is so common in a person's twenties, I think, because up until that point, we've had a pretty clear road map for what's expected of us and we haven't had much reason to question that map. There are still a few milestones outlined for us (start a career, get married, make babies) but more and more young people are entering the post-school world and realizing:

A) that career thing just isn't happening like they said it would

B) I'm not ready to get married/I don't want to get married/marriage isn't the sort of life-altering event that it used to be

C) I'm not ready to make babies/I don't want a baby/I can't afford to raise children right now (see point A)

And in the absence of these milestones to shoot for (which one could argue weren't the promise of fulfillment they claimed to be in the first place), what we're left with is this aimless abyss of "the rest of our lives" sprawling out ahead of us with no indication of how it will go or what we should be doing to shape it. Young people start their first jobs, find they hate them, and think to themselves, "Is this it? Am I just supposed to do this job until I'm too old to do it or die first?"

Which is, yeah, really fucking depressing!! So here's my best attempt at an alternate roadmap for young people that don't vibe with the old model. Please feel free to add in your own suggestions!

Learn how you work and what you want out of a job. Unless you've been in a job-specific training program that gives you hands-on experience, your first jobs should be experiments. Learn how a full-time job feels for you, what elements are more or less difficult. Different workplaces have different cultures and expectations - what do you need out of a job environment? Do you need to find fulfillment in your job or is it enough for it to pay the bills and leave you time to find outside fulfillment? Do you want to climb a corporate ladder or are you content to hunker down as long as your bills get paid? This period of experimentation is exhausting and may feel like it's consuming your whole life.

Learn how to make time for things outside of work. Adapting to a full-time work environment often leaves you feeling so drained that you can't do anything but go home and collapse on the couch every day. That's fine - for a little while. But it can also become a habit. You need to learn how to do things after work or you'll go crazy. Go to a trivia night. Start an exercise schedule. Take a class in your community. Find volunteer work. Join a band. You will find that putting more things into your day makes you feel like you have more time, not less.

Find a community. Making friends as an adult can feel impossible. Where do you find these mysterious friends everyone seems to have?? This goes along with #2, though. As you start regularly attending the same activities, you will find that repeat interactions with the same people turn into friendships or at least friendly acquaintances. Say yes to invitations. Get involved in your local community. Strive to be connected enough to bump into people at the grocery store.

Unlearn bad lessons. We all internalize some messed up things when we're growing up. As you start off your adult life, that's the time to actively work at unpacking the things you've brought with you from childhood and deciding which things are helping you and which things are harming you. This might mean therapy or joining a spiritual group or reading new things or just making special time to be in your own head.

Learn the lessons you missed. In this, I mostly mean practical things. "Adulting." Areas of your day-to-day practical life that are causing you extreme stress are probably related to a knowledge or experience gap. Do you hate cooking and cleaning or were you not taught how to do it properly? Are you afraid of making medical appointments or is it just something new you're not used to? Does money make you queasy or do you need to learn how to make a budget?

Find something fulfilling. This can be your job. It can be volunteer work. It can be faith. It can be a hobby. It can be creating things. It can be challenging yourself physically. It can be activism. It can be going for walks in nature. Everyone finds fulfillment in different places. If you're not finding it where you are, look somewhere else.

[bootlegspiders]

Hey, so for Watcher fans who may not wanna pay for another subscription or just wanna watch something new here are some other youtubers you should take a look at if you want to get a spook or learn some history

(* = potentially triggering topics covered usually associated with crimes, so be careful)

Ghost Hunting and general spooky vibes:

AmysCrypt - Your typical ghost hunting show with two Australians traveling the world, though I will say they do go to places I've never heard of before and they do very good research. And there are some goofs along with the spooks.

The Ouija Brothers - Two British dudes finding ghosts in England. The vibes are generally pretty chill and it's a good time

The Paranormal Scholar - A mixed bag of all paranormal happenings from ghosts to demons to cryptids and aliens. Sort of an overview to deepdives on various paranormal occurrences. The research is immaculate and their voice is very soothing in my opinion.

Paranormal Quest - Ghost hunting in the US, sometimes goofy sometimes serious, but they do go to some interesting places and some familiar ones too

Weird History:

ObsoleteOddity* - This guy is great, like 80% of the things he covers I've never heard of before. Very atmospheric, fun little visuals, and a large variety of weird events and people for topics.

Georgia Marie* - A little bit of everything, but she focuses on strange things that have happened, lgbt history, true crime, and historical disasters. She covers enough of everything that I'm sure you'll find something

Stefanie Valentine* - I'm not sure if she even posts anymore, but I thought what she was doing was great. Think Vampira or Elvira but for older true crime and ghost stories, I think the latest covered would have been like early 1900s. Idk I just thought it was like a cute spooky lil storytime

Caitlin Doughty or Ask A Mortician* - Pretty sure y'all would know who she is but just in case, she's a mortician who covers topics relating to death! From odd ways people have died, or odd things that have happened to people after they've died. And just odd or tragic things that have happened through history. It's silly, but done with levity and care and respect the topics deserve.

General History:

Part-Time Explorer - Mostly history on ships and ghost towns with the occasional train. Lots of research and interviews, very well done and worth checking out even if it may not be your thing.

History's Forgotten People - Talks about sometimes obscure, or sometimes not, historical individuals. Even if you've heard of the person in the topic, they'll talk on something obscure about that person.

History Tea Time with Lindsay Holiday - A heavy focus on royalty around the world, a generally upbeat dive into historic individuals.

(Or you could always go watch time team, that's an option and it's my guilty pleasure love me some archeology)

True Crime:

There are so many out there, so I'll just recommend two of my favorites

Gabulosis* - She focuses on vintage cases 20 years or older (literally in her opener) and is well researched and respectful. Another one that talks on cases I've never heard of that deserve to be heard.

Mysterious WV* - True crime and missing persons based in the West Virginia area and neighboring states. Idk how to even explain the vibes. This guy is just great please watch him trust me you won't be disappointed.

That's all for now, feel free to add your own recs out there!

[schattenhonig]

The A in LGBTQIA+ doesn't stand for aspec because they're not repressed!

(please read the disclaimer at the end of this post)

Ummm, excuse me? Would you mind telling me what your definition of repression is, then?

Because I feel repressed when a doctor asks me about my sex life, and if I say I have none, it gets marked down as a symptom without being asked if I suffer from it.

I feel repressed when my gyn tells me I can't get a hysterectomy yet despite losing so much blood on every period that I need to take iron supplements all the time, because I could change my mind about not wanting children (which is a whole other post, I know, but it's most likely linked to sex).

I feel repressed if I can't use dating apps or platforms because my sexuality doesn't even exist there, and the one time I tried, I got called names because I didn't want to meet for because it was clear where this date would go, despite my explicit "what I'm looking for".

I feel repressed when I think about how recently a paragraph was finally abolished in my country that considered sex a vital part of a marriage, basically entitling the spouses to having sex with their partner (both gender neutral, because entitling people to having sex with somebody else by law is wrong. It's basically a rape permission).

I feel repressed when I can't watch any film or show without it being about love and/or sex, no matter if it fits the narrative and furthers the plot.

I feel repressed when I plot my own stories and automatically put a romantic couple in there as main characters, even though I have no idea why this would be important for the plot. Not even my own stories, my own thoughts are mine.

I felt repressed when I was asked accusingly in a relationship if I wasn't missing something before I even knew asexuality as a spectrum was a thing, and having to lie about this being a side effect of my medication instead of genuinely not feeling attracted to someone in this way.

I feel repressed when I can't tell people I'm not sexually attracted to them because they will take this personally no matter how well I explain myself.

I feel repressed when everywhere I look there's advertising relying on naked skin, suggestive posing and objectification. Why are expensive cars still presented by women considered beautiful and tempting? It's not like that's necessary to convince people of spending so much money on a thing that gets you from A to B. Couches with women in smart dresses and high heels. That's not what a normal person looks like on a couch. But the worst is a truck in the town where I live: it's from a small fruit and vegetable stand, so whenever I see it, it comes from the warehouse, delivering groceries. On it is a woman clad in very little, presenting fruit. I'm sorry, but why? Does a misogynistic picture convince you of the necessity to avoid scurvy?

I feel repressed when I tell people and get the answer "you just haven't found the right person yet", because there are two possible assumptions from that point: I'm either not trying hard enough (so it's basically my own fault) or something about me is not right, appalling even (which circles back to I'm not trying hard enough or frames me as a victim of my genetics, upbringing or circumstances to be pitied).

Do not tell me how I feel. Do not try to tell me everything is fine and I shouldn't complain or ask for acknowledgement if everywhere I look, I'm reminded of how odd, how weird and how not normal I am. How much it inconveniences you to even acknowledge my existence, let alone respect any of my traits, views and choices.

And while I can only write from my own asexual point of view, I wrote this with all kinds of flavours of aspec in mind, so I'm explicitly including aromantics, aroace people and every shade of the spectrum in this. Not all my examples may apply to you, but I hope you can find something to relate to.

ETA: please feel free to add your own experiences of repression!

[anisespice]

tokyo revengers boys when their horny but their s/o is too busy to deal with their shit? (u can add bonten-)

aye aye, anon! 🫡 needy men are my favorite flavor 🤤 thank you so much for your patience, and requesting ♡♡♡

pairing: tr x gn!reader

warnings: mature language, MDI. cursing, vague descriptions of sex, teasing, mild nipple-play, empty threats, crack!fic coded behavior, a tiny pinch of barely-there angst in mikey’s with a hint of misogyny, and i think that’s it :D feel free to lemme know if i missed anything!

notes: something about this request screamed sano to me, and maybe even throw sanzu in the mix for a little treat ( ˘ ³˘). also may have strayed a little from the original plot of the request, but the premise is fairly the same >:)) hope you enjoy !!

tagged: @fantasycantasy , @illegalspacecow

“Get outta there.”

Though your tone sounded stern, your demeanor remained placid as you continued typing on your laptop, making no move to actually stop the hands from creeping inside your sweater. You were well aware of their destination, and it was anything but harmless. SHINICHIRO was latched onto you the moment he arrived at your place, excited to spend his day off alone with you, and away from the prying eyes of his siblings for once. Rarely did the two of you get alone time due to your conflicting schedules, savoring the moments you did get without outward distractions in the way.

Things were going great for the most part…until your boss decided to dump busywork into your email, last minute.

“…tell ‘em to go fuck himself, so you can focus on fucking me,” Shinichiro grumbled into your shoulder, calloused hands feeling up your chest with slow, deliberate touches. You chortled, masking the small moan that nearly slipped out when he gently grazed your nipples.

“Good idea, Shin. But wait, oh shoot, fucking you won’t exactly pay my bills, now will it? So, knock it off.”

“Who says it won’t? I’ll pay your bills for the next month, hell, the next six months, if it means you’ll let me just stick it in, baby, please..”

You hissed through your teeth at the small pinch he gave your sensitive nubs, dick damn-near throbbing against your lower back as he rutted against you. Should’ve known sitting on his lap while you worked would backfire, poor thing’s so wound up, you felt a little bad. It’d been nearly three weeks since you and Shinichiro had even a second to breathe the same air, let alone touch each other.

You weren’t immune, craving a taste of him just as much, there’s nothing you wanted more than to succumb to his persuasion. But, having been on bad terms with your tyrant boss one too many times, you couldn’t afford to procrastinate.

“Shini,” you spoke, breathless as he suckled on your neck, growing more bold with his touch, “a-as much as I’d love for you to do that for me… you don’t exactly have the funds to make such an offer.”

He huffed, nipping playfully at your pulse. “I’ll get another job. Good? Good, problem solved, can you take your clothes off now?”

“Tempting…but no. Appreciate the sentiment, though.”

Shinichiro whined in the crook of your neck. His hands slowed to a stop inside your sweater, slipping down to rest on your tummy instead. It sent a tiny shiver up your spine, but was ignored all the same as you attempted to resume typing, seeming to have put a damper on his resolve. Or, so you thought.

Not even a minute passed when you felt his fingers searching for something else to play with. Something that has been calling his name since he waltzed through your front door. “Shin…”

Your warning fell upon deaf ears. Shinichiro merely shrugged, feigning innocence while his hands breached the waistband of your sleep-shorts, stopping right at your pelvic bone. Leaning back in the chair, the ravenette spread his legs further apart, forcing yours to do the same, giving him even more access to your already accessible center. Despite his lanky stature, homie had grip—Try and close your legs all you want, you’ll pull a muscle before pulling out of it. Your heart was borderline going Macarena, focus jumbled up to the point there were more typos than words in the report you tried completing.

You huffed, though your tone sounded less stern compared to the first time. “Shinichiro. If you don’t let me finish my work…I’ll ban your dick from ever entering me or this house for a whole month.”

On any other given day, that empty threat would’ve done the trick, hands flying off you so fast you’d think he got electrocuted. But, this wasn’t any other given day. This was already a two-week long hiatus of his most favorite place to be, in between your legs, and the only thing keeping him from it was your lack of underwear beneath thin-cotten shorts. Threaten him if you must, but it won’t work.

You weren’t fooling anyone.

Playing hard to get could take you so far, but he knew you were mere moments from crumbling to your desires you tried so hard to suppress, no shot you’d last another day, let alone a month. He was determined, and you were being stubborn—An immovable object verses an unstoppable force. Eventually, someone had to give. And it wasn’t about to be you.

It went on like that for another few minutes, him feeling you up and you batting him away. It only worsened the second he went further in your shorts, teasing your sex until you soaked through the fabric. You could feel his smug grin against your shoulder, no doubt thinking he was winning this battle. However, Shinichiro wasn’t aware of your trump card, your Charizard, if you will.

It’s a dirty trick. But desperate times call for desperate measures.

By slamming your fists atop of the table, startling him right out of your shorts, you turned to look him dead in the face, and said, “Don’t make me call Mikey.”

The mechanic widely blinked. But, his shock was short lived as he fixed you a sarcastic look, bringing his slick-coated fingers up to the light and right into his mouth to be even more obnoxious. After pulling them out with a wet pop!, Shinichiro called your bluff.

“You wouldn’t.”

“And would. Emma’s probably dying to catch up with me anyway, since I haven’t been around as much lately. And we both know Mikey would come just to spite you.”

As you continued to hold his stare, not backing down or giving any indication that you were joking, the sardonicism began to melt off his demeanor, and soon realization took its place. Shortly after that, betrayal. How could you be so cruel? He was already competing with an inanimate object, he’ll be damned if his siblings get added to the list. Taking a moment to weight his options, or lack there of, his face soon resembled a kicked puppy with his bottom lip stuck out and everything; you could’ve sworn his eyes started to water. “t’s not fair…been waiting all damn day…”

“I know, baby. But I need you to hang on for just a little longer f’me, okay? And once I’m done, then I’m all yours.” You cooed, placing a small peck on his nose as an olive branch. It seemed to do the trick, his frown softening as he pointed at his lips, puckering them. You snorted, but happily obliged, even placing a few more across his face until you got a smile. Shinichiro soaked up whatever he could as he leaned into you for more.

When it seemed he was satisfied, you turned back to continue working…only for the ravenette to try his luck one more time. “Can I get one here, too?”

You peered at him from over your shoulder—Give you one guess where he was pointing, wearing that all too pleased grin from before. You deadpanned.

“…I’m calling Mikey.”

“NoOO—”

—

“That’s considered sexual harassment, Mr. Sano.”

If he could time travel, MIKEY would beat the breaks off his past-self for ever encouraging you to fill the role of secretary at his work. At first, it seemed like a fantastic idea—Standing at his side, his pretty little assistant, wearing a tight uniform that left nothing to the imagination. He’d bend you over his desk and fuck you anytime he pleased, you’d call him Sir, and walk around the office filled to the brim with his cum until time to go home, then he’d fill you up all over again—The perfect work-life balance.

However, the gangster didn’t account for one teensy thing—You, actually taking the job seriously, and setting professional boundaries the moment you were hired on the staff. No matter if you’d be practically all over him in the car moments prior to clocking in, the second your kitten heels touched the marbled floors of the lobby…he wasn’t your lover anymore. He was your boss.

And he hated it.

“Sexual harass—You’re my s/o, [______].”

“Not within these walls, I’m not.” You continued reading one of the files left on your desk to review for tomorrow’s meeting, only for it soon to vanish right before your eyes. After a long blink, you held out an expectant hand to the stubborn blonde. “May I have that back, please?”

“No.”

“Mr. Sano-”

“If you address me formally one more time, I’ll take you right here in the middle of this hallway. Try me.” He hissed, holding the file out of reach.

You pursed your lips, fighting a grin. Seeing him get so worked up over not being able to get his dick wet was entertaining to say the least, but you were well aware he wasn’t kidding. Clearing your throat, you attempted to tread lightly as your expression morphed back to neutral.

“Alright. Mikey,” his eye twitched, but you continued, “would you be so kind as to let me finish reading the material for your meeting tomorrow? I would hate for anything to be amiss because I didn’t do a thorough review.”

“Tch. Where’s Kakucho? I distinctly remember assigning this task for him. Not you.”

You raised a brow. “You sent him on an impromptu errand to fill up the time he was spending ‘idling at my desk’. You remember that?”

Mikey averted his gaze. “…Don’t recall.”

“‘course you don’t,” you exhaled. “Mikey, with all due respect-”

“Not that name either.” He commanded, slapping the file back on the desk before placing his hands upon it to lean forward, towering over you. You couldn’t fight the grin this time, tilting your head up at him, amusement in your gaze.

“That’s your name, is it not?”

Mikey glared. “You know that isn’t the one I’d prefer you to use.”

With a shrug, you easily replied, “It’s what most of your employees call you. And last time I checked, that included me-” Mikey was quick to grab your chin, forcing you to look deep into his dark, deranged eyes. Man’s was definitely toeing line of his limit, and you were pushing it.

“And last time I checked, you aren’t like most employees. You’re my partner who’s working on my last nerve, and should really consider dropping this whole ‘professionalism’ act before I remind them why they were hired in the first place. And no, it wasn’t for your work ethic and attention to detail, or whatever bullshit Koko told you in the interview.”

Ouch.

Not to say you didn’t figure there were ulterior motives behind getting approved for the job, especially under the circumstances that you were heavily under-qualified to work in their type of environment. But, you tried your damnedest to keep up, do your part, and not be a burden on the team. For him to call it nonsense and boldly confirm such suspicions outloud? You think he realized his mistake the second your face reverted back to its neutral state. Wiggling out of his grip, you leaned back in the chair with your arms tightly crossed to your chest.

“That so? Well then, Michael, how ‘bout I remind you why a man shouldn’t mix his business with his pleasure. Things could turn ugly for him, maybe even end up losing both a loyal employee and a lover all in one day. Wouldn’t you agree?”

Out of all the names, that one made him cringe the most. A clear indicator of his grandiose fuck-up, one that if he didn’t fix immediately, he’d soon suffer the consequences. And your wrath.

“Wait, I didn’t mean it like that. It came out wrong-”

“Oh, I’m sure it didn’t. You’re a man who speaks his mind, after all.”

Mikey, though subtly, panicked. This wasn’t at all how he expected the conversation to go. But, it’s not his fault! It was his dick doing all the driving. With you working for Bonten, his long hours became yours, and by the time you both got home, sex became scarce due to your exhaustion. He was immune to the taxation of the job, while it was kicking your ass. And to top it off, he couldn’t even cop a feel of his own s/o, in his own damn building, because of ‘power imbalances’ between a boss and secretary that was ‘socially unacceptable’, according to you…as you work for the biggest crime syndicate in all of Japan.

Flawed reasoning aside, it drove him insane.

But, no thanks to his lust-clouded brashness, if Mikey thought getting some action at work was difficult, his chances at home just got a whole lot worse. He’d be lucky if you even slept in the same bed tonight.

“[_____],” he sighed, reaching over to grab your hand, though you moved it away at the last second. “You do a fantastic job here, angel. Exceeded all my expectations, actually-”

“Well, based on the merits of why you hired me in the first place, that doesn’t sound like much.” At that point, you went back to reviewing the file he threw back on the desk, seeming disinterested. But, Mikey knew better.

He’d hurt your feelings. To be reduced to nothing but eye candy for him, when you were busting your ass off like everyone else, it stung. It was playful at first, but now the blonde had crossed a line. With determination, Mikey removed the file from your sight once more, rounding the desk before crouching down so he could level with you this time.

You allowed him to take your hands in his, still indifferent. Mikey spoke with a tenderness only reserved for you, one that never failed to melt any cold front you built to wane his efforts.

“I was being childish. I shouldn’t have diminished your role like that, and I apologize for making you feel like your work isn’t appreciated. I’m glad to have you as my loyal employee. Even if a visit in my office from my lover from time to time wouldn’t be too bad, either…”

His words trailed off, along with his gaze as he reminisced. You chortled, shaking your head. Mikey looked back at you, ghost of a grin on his face. “I’ll back off. Promise.”

You raised a brow, skeptical. “You mean it?”

“Mmhm. Under one condition.”

You groaned, “Mikey-”

“Manjiro.”

“Oh, is that the condition?” He lightly pinched you for the snark, resting his head on your lap. But, before you could reprimand him for his inappropriate position, your words catch in your throat.

His stare was intense as they gazed up at you with hidden hunger, the tenderness still swimming in the inky pools, but not as present compared to moments ago. Mikey licked his lips, nuzzling against your plush thigh.

“Work less hours. Don’t want you to run yourself ragged trynna keep up with the rest of us. We’ve been doing this line of work a lot longer than you have, baby. No need to overcompensate. I’m already proud of you.”

Steadily did those words make your heart melt, until your were practically mush once they’ve set in. To hear his pride in you almost made you kick your feet, for that was all you really wanted at the end of the day—Acknowledgment. Validation. Praise. And working less hours would definitely benefit in more ways than one, more so on your mental health. You won’t lie and say this new job hasn’t been a challenge, all the talk about blood, death and drugs, one could only handle so much.

“Thank you..Manjiro.” He lit up at the sound of his name spilling sweetly from your lips. “I greatly appreciate you saying that. But, what’s the catch?”

He hummed, hands releasing yours to caress your calves all the way back up to your hips. Mikey didn’t pull nor tug, more so just holding you in place as he continued to watch you like a hawk. Eventually he shook his head, tresses fluttering with him as they curtained the sides of his face.

“No catch. Work your hours, I’ll leave you be…But once those hours are up, you better be sitting pretty on my desk with your reports in one hand and your underwear in the other, waiting for me to choose between my business and my pleasure. Deal?”

—

“Pout all you want, I’m not sitting on your face.”

When you informed your darling SANZU that your Saturdays were strictly for housework, he honestly thought you were joking—What idiot in their twenties would spend the weekend doing that?

Evidently his idiot, that’s who.

Imagine his surprise when he showed up, unannounced, ready to have you on every piece of furniture, only to be threatened with a feather duster the second he went to grab your ass. “Paws off. I already changed the sheets on my bed, cleaned the bathroom, the kitchen, and mopped the floors, so unless you’re here to help dust or wipe windows, keep it in your pants, Haruchiyo.”

Needless to say, he wasn’t the happiest houseguest.

After the long work week he’s had, Sanzu was looking forward to locking the two of you in the back all weekend, going at it like rabbits with no other purpose but keep the neighbors up—Pretty much until the room stank. But, thanks to this cleaning ritual of yours, that wasn’t about to happen anytime soon. Especially not with the various scented candles you were burning to hide the potent smell of bleach and pine-sol. God, he was getting such a headache from overstimulation…and not the good kind.

“This is such bullshit,” he groaned into the couch, where you banished him after he tried to bend you over the washing machine while you were loading another basket of dirty clothes. “Why’d you even invite me over if we weren’t gonna do anything…”

You paused from folding, side-eyeing him. “I didn’t invite you.”

“You said you were staying in all day. That’s practically code for: I’m bored, come dick me down.”

Your laugh had snuck up on you, racking through your entire body to the point you had curled forward. The leap he took to draw such a conclusion nearly gave you whiplash as you attempted to regain composure. “Maybe for freaky-fucks like you, but the rest of us usually mean it as something mundane. Like, oh I dunno, doing chores.”

“On a Saturday?? What ‘re ya, 80??”

You shrugged, placing another item onto its respective pile. “You don’t have to stay, y’know. If you have something better to do, then by all means, don’t let me keep you.”

Sanzu abruptly sat up from his position, the clothes you had laid on his back flopping onto the floor, instantly losing their folded shape. You shot him an annoyed glance, but figured some of the blame was yours for using his skittish-ass for a table. The pinkette wore a pitiful look, wide cerulean eyes piercing right through you as he gave a defiant punch to the couch cushion, “Was ‘posed to be doing you! And you are keeping me from doing that!”

With a huff, you set aside the pile you were currently working through to gather up the clothes that he so rudely let fall to the floor. “Unfortunate. Now lay back down, and be a good table. Since you wanted to be chair so fucking badly.”

“Piss off.”

He absolutely laid back down.

© 2023-2024 anisespice ッ all rights reserved. likes, comments & reblogs much appreciated!

[aerowolf]

the mercs realize it's your bday and you didn't tell anyone because your family doesn't do birthdays

I’m so sorry this is a mess between British and American english. I have an American parent and a Canadian one so it messed me up lolll

if didn't include a Merc you wanted, feel free to request and I'll try and add them :]

includes: Miss Pauling & offense classes

cute platonic, gn!reader

warnings: n/a, this is basically all fluff

You'd rather not make a big deal of it being your birthday, even though it is you were taught that birthdays aren't a big deal and your family never really did them.

You kind of wish someone would care but you feel guilty about that so you choose not to tell anyone about it

The only one of these who actually knows it's your birthday is Miss Pauling, who’s seen your personnel files

Miss Pauling

She knows it's your birthday, and instead of ignoring it she decides to at least discreetly make it a good day for you

She arrives on base for a routine inspection, clipboard in hand, but once she's done with the main thing, instead of leaving, she comes to your room

"I saw that it's your birthday today. I don't know if you celebrate, or anything, but, uh, I thought you'd like a gift. Maybe."

She hands you a box, inside are some candy bars and a plush of a bear

"I know it's not exactly the nicest thing, and I know it's kinda... stereotypical... but, y'know, I thought you'd like something. So, happy birthday. From me.” She’s really shy about it, you get the feeling she didn’t--probably still doesn’t--really get to celebrate birthdays either. 

She offers you a ride on her motorbike, something nice, on the open road--away from this base for a little while. You accept, taking a seat behind her, enjoying the open air--though it is pretty hot out. You guys talk, just enjoying the time.

She smiles at you as you get back. “Happy birthday. You deserve it.”

You thank her and even give her a hug. It’s nice that you got this for once. 

Scout

He has no idea whatsoever that it’s your birthday. He’s interacting with you like usual, teasing you, just hanging out. You’re happy as you talk that day; he’s always good at making you laugh and smile.

At some point he notices that you’re a little down, as much as you may try to hide it, he can tell. You’re his friend, and even though he might act like he doesn’t care sometimes, you know he does. A lot.

You tell yourself you don’t want anything on your birthday, that it’s easier if no one knows, but secretly, you do.

“Hey, what’s up? C’mon, ya know I can tell when something’s wrong.” 

You tell him it’s nothing. 

“You sure? Really? You’re kinda… I dunno, sadder than usual.” After he asks a few times, you finally come out and tell him. You don’t say much. Just “It’s my birthday.”

“No kiddin’? Well, why didn’t ya tell me?” He comes off pretty strong. You feel kind of apologetic for mentioning it, and look away from him. “Aw, hey. Y’know what--it don’t matter. I’m gonna throw you a party like you ain’t never seen, believe me.”

You try to tell him you don’t want a party--well, you do. Maybe. No you don’t. Well, sure. But not a big one. He’s really sweet and enthusiastic about it. “Someone like you deserves a big birthday--but if you don’t want it, dat’s okay. Ya know, we could just hang out, or somethin’. You n’ me, yeah?” 

You tell him you’d like that a lot. You both find a quiet spot in the base where you can just talk. He messes around, too, and pops in a Tom Jones record. 

He’s a little shy, a little embarrassed, but he even sings happy birthday to you. He just seems glad no one can hear him. He doesn’t have a gift handy for you, but he ends up scribbling you a quick doodle of him telling you happy birthday. It’s misspelt, but the drawing is cute, and you keep it. “I hope ya had a good day. I’m just sorry I didn’t know sooner.” You tell him that it wasn’t his fault, how could he have known? 

After all is done, he gives you an awkward hug. You smile and return it.

Soldier

He’s a little crazy so he’s just hanging around base, today he had the idea to strip and cover himself in honey, so everyone has had to convince him to please not do that, and now he’s just moping around, muttering about how anti patriotic this all is.

You sit next to him and mope as well. Unlike him, no one knows the reason you’re moping. To anyone else’s point of view, you’re just comforting him--for whatever weird reason. But he sees that you’re just as sad as him.

“What’s wrong, maggot? Is there someone who needs to see my fists meet their face?”

You tell him no, no one did anything. You’re a little intimidated by him, and you don’t see much reason to tell him anyways. But it’s nice sitting with a friend. 

“If it’s not a person, then… it must be an object! Give it to me and I will destroy it immediately.” He’s being as sweet as he can, you smile and shake your head.

You sit there for a bit, smiling as you watch the other mercs come and go. Today isn’t a bad day, just a little sad. Later, you plan to find some kind of sweet treat to eat alone.

Soldier stands up, at attention, and points at you. “MAGGOT, AS YOUR SUPERIOR AND SENIOR, I ORDER YOU TO TELL ME WHAT IS WRONG!”

With a sad smile and a chuckle you finally tell him.

“Your birthday?” Soldier seems genuinely surprised. He places a hand on his chin and thinks. “We cannot go without celebrating! This is momentous!”

Although you try to protest, he turns to the base, stating to every other merc, “LISTEN UP! IT IS Y/N’S BIRTHDAY AND WE WILL CELEBRATE!” 

He makes it his personal mission to decorate for a party that very evening, even gets a cake and everything. He makes every other merc sing happy birthday with him. Maybe this isn’t so bad.

You give him a big hug, and he is surprised at first, but proceeds to give a gentle laugh and hug back.

Pyro

You see Pyro colouring with crayons and coloured pencils on their break, and you sit by them. You don’t really understand what they’re saying a lot of the time, but you enjoy hanging out with them. It’s a long period of silence before you join them in colouring. Regardless of your artistic skills, they’re impressed and encourage you, and are very happy when you show them what you’ve been working on. 

After a little while you get kind of bored and sad. You’ve tried to enjoy this day but it’s another bittersweet birthday. You’re happy to hang out with Pyro though, even though they don’t know what day it is.

Pyro notices that you’ve stopped colouring with them, and that you’re looking at the ground instead, messing with the cracks in the floor.

“Huddah hrmmf mmmrph?” You don’t understand what they’re saying exactly, but you smile at them. They seem to be asking what’s wrong, why you stopped, why you seem so sad.

You hesitate for a moment before finally confessing. They seem to mostly understand what you mean, and they lean back, thinking. 

After a few seconds, they stand up and help pull you off the floor. They point to their room, and you follow them. It’s an odd combination of scorch marks, colourful drawings, weapons, and art supplies. They lead you to a wardrobe and pull out a box. 

Surprisingly, you can see that it's fully wrapped. Did they somehow know it was your birthday? Do they keep these gifts on hand for the mercs?

You won’t get an answer, but they excitedly push it out and offer it to you. “Huddah hmmph!” They sound almost like they are smiling behind the mask. You take the box and open it. It’s got crayons, pencils, and… wow, that’s a drawing of you and them.

You smile, almost ready to tear up, and thank them. You give them a hug, and you notice that they’re hugging you back even harder. Maybe they don’t really understand, but this is sweet.

[miloformula123fan]

heyy I love your posts and was wondering if you could maybe do something with toto wolff and wife reader? I would be really happy if you could do it but don't want to pressure you or anything

something along the lines of reader being charles grid mum and spending lots of time with him and alex, being the first to know about little leo leclerc and maybe babysitting him during races or something along the lines... and then her being so in love with him that she's begging toto for a dog, not knowing he was already planning to gift her a puppy (but not like a small puppy/dog more like a bigger breed, a doberman for example)and charles being in on it and planning the surprise with his grid mums husband

thank you in advance, love ya🫶🏻

oh my gosh of course darling. thank you so much for the support, and I'm sorry it took me so long to get this out <3

updates are going to slow down a bit from now til Jan. I've got exams and then I'm away with minimal technology (meaning I don't see abu dhabi :( but thank you all so much for the support :)

Please keep requesting - y'all have awesome ideas we agree on a lot of stuff :) - my guidelines are here, and if you want some prompts, they are here.

also feel free to come in and start chatting to me in my asks, would love to get to know y'all better

and if you want to be added to my taglist lmk :)

and my masterlist is here <3

toto wolff x wife!reader

“Charles! Great work in Australia! Sorry I wasn’t there, but the timezone was gonna screw me up.” Y/N waved at him as they hugged in the pitlane.

“Of course, of course. Happy you made it though.”

“Of course, of course for Jules, y’know. Wouldn’t miss this.”

They lapsed into a comfortable silence.

“You know how proud he is of you right? Jules. I don’t think you hear that enough.”

“Thanks Y/N. Oh wait, um Alex and I had some news I wanted to share with you.”

“Oh my god Charles, if she’s pregnant I will cut your dick off myself-”

“Oh no, no. We… are adopting a dog! His name is Leo. And I think he’s a golden retriever. I can’t remember off the top of my head.”

“Oh, thank god. Don’t give your grid mum a heart attack like that. Do you have any photos you can show me?”

“Of course, of course. And I’m sorry for scaring you.”

---

Y/N was officially supposed to be in the Mercedes hospitality right now. Officially. But it was Monaco. And it was Charles’ home race. And he had a good chance (though she didn’t say it). And Alex was here. And so was Leo.

Baby, baby, Leo. Who had grown so much in the 3 weeks he had been around. Jack was having an absolute ball playing around with him. Y/N videoed the 2 of them playing together and sent it to Toto.

Y’know he really does like hanging out with Leo. maybe we should get our own dog.

Let’s discuss after the race, when I can fully focus. Although i do admit that the 2 of them are very cute, even if the dog is maybe a bit small.

I think if we get a dog it would need to be bigger.

Y/N smiled at her husband’s messages, looking up and seeing him on TV, she smiled.

Toto smiled as he saw his wife smiling on TV on the consoles, before being pulled away by a worker.

---

“Liebing, are you sure we need a dog? We have enough trouble at home with Jack and you want to add a dog to that?”

“Please, Toto! They can grow up together, how cute would that be??? Please, darling!”

“I’ll think about it, okay?” He smiled, and Y/N’s face lit up, “That’s not a yes. That’s an ‘I’ll think about it’. There’s a lot we need to do before we get a dog.”

---

“I have… one more present for you.”

“Oh?”

“It’s not a physical thing, I think I may have to explain.” Toto pulled out his phone and showed Y/N a photo of a dog.

“He’s a Saint Bernard. He’s 6 weeks old at the moment, so we won’t get him for another 2 weeks. But I know you’ve always wanted a puppy, so?”

“How did you organise all of this in a week?”

“Oh I didn’t. Before you even mentioned to Charles that you might like a dog, I was already planning on getting you one? I just had to try and speed up the process a bit.”

“Oh Darling… thank you so much!”

“Of course. Anything for you liebing.”

---

taglist: @leosxrealm, @pear-1206, @tallrock35, @wolf-knights, @janeholt3

[snailsagere]

Please read my dni in my bio before interacting

I made a computer games to play when regressed so here's phone games to play when regressed!

Phone games to play when regressed!

All of these games are free unless stated otherwise and I will give content warnings if needed! If I miss anything and you think I should include it then feel free to tell me!

🌸= personal favourites

Monster girl maker 1 and 2

Description- it's a cute dress up game where you design monster girls, it's really really cute!

CW- I think it's got some medically stuff and general stuff that may be scary

My little pony pocket ponies

Description- it's a game where you get through enemies using the mlp characters it's quite tricky so I recommend this more for anyone who regresses to older ages but it's still really fun!

CW- none :3

🌸My little pony colour by magic

Description- it's a colour by number game where you colour in scenes and decorate a friendship museum!

CW- none :3

🌸My little pony magic princess

Description- you rebuild equestria and complete quests as well as little in game competitions!

CW- none :3

🌸My little pony celebration

Description- you celebrate loads of different parties hosted by the my little pony characters!

CW- none :3

Toca world

Description- pretty much like a doll house but on your phone, make characters, make them a house and explore the world etc, there are also dlc's you can pay for which add stuff like new locations etc

CW- none :3

Toca hair salon 3

Description- this is a paid game where you cut and style different people's hair!

CW- cartoon scissors, hair cutting equipment etc

🌸Hello kitty around the world

Description- you travel to different countries as hello kitty, learn facts about them and where they are in world! you also earn traditional outfits and food to dress hello kitty and feed her!

CW- none! :3

Hello kitty educational games

Description- play a variety of different games to earn outfits and furniture for hello kitty!

CW- none! :3

🌸Hello kitty fashion star

Description- dress up girls in sanrio clothes!

CW- none! :3

Hello kitty cafe

Description- own a cafe! And play as sanrio characters! This games a bit tricky so I recommend it for older kids! Aswell as that there used to be in app purchases to make it easier but they do not work anymore so keep that in mind!

CW- none! :3

Hello kitty goodnight

Description- you play little mini games to get the hello kitty family to sleep!

CW- none! :3

🌸Littlest pet shop your world

Description- play loads and loads of littlest pet shop mini games and if you have the lps with the rubbery heads you can even scan them into the game!

CW- none! (I haven't played every mini game but it seems fine)

Cats and soup

Description- this is a clicky game where you unlock cats for them to make soup

CW- drawings of cartoony knives (to cut veggies)

Bunnybuns

Description- you play as a bunny making food for customers based on hints they give you

CW- none (I don't remember if they use kitchen equipment but I think they don't, not certain though!)

My talking Angela 2

Description- look after a cat called angela, play mini games etc

CW- none! :3

🌸Virtual families 3

Description- I grew up play virtual families 2!this is the same premise we're you look after a family on your phone!

CW- none! :3

Tsuki odyssey

Description- similar to tsuki adventure but now you're in a new location, you can fish, buy things, decorate your house and see what tsuki gets up to

CW- I think burglary is mentioned at the start

Cats are cute

Description- expand a town of cats, pet them, feed them and play with them!

CW- none! :3

Adorable home

Description- play as a couple and adopt loads and loads of cats, look after them and decorate and expand your house!

CW- none! :3

Any papa's game

Description- cook food for customers! All the papa's games are paid for but they're only £1-£3! My personal recommendation is papa's pancakeria!

CW- some of the games have knives in them

🌸Pokemon playhouse

Description- you collect pokemon and play cute mini games with them! This is a good game for little kids who like pokemon!

CW- none! :3

Pokemon smile

Description- brush your teeth to catch pokemon!

CW- none! :3

Pokemon go

Description- walk around outside and catch pokemon! Definitely recommend doing this when it's less cold hehe

CW- none! :3

Pokemon cafe

Description- a match three gand where you make food and drinks fir pokemon customers!

CW- cartoony knife+kitchen equipment maybe

🌸Egg!

Description- raise eggs until they hatch into cute creatures! I loved this game when I was little

CW- none! :3

🌸My school-learning game

Description- be a teacher in a school and teach characters basic maths and English (it has a few different language options depending on where you're from) you can unlock things but you have to pay for them but what is free is fun

CW- none! :3

Colouring games

Description- colour in pictures!

CW- none! :3

🌸Jungle floof

Description- raise jungle animals and play mini games!

CW- none! :3

🌸Applaydu

Description- a kinder egg toy game! Loads of different activities to do and you can unlock characters by scanning your kinder toys!

CW- none! :3

🌸Duo abc

Description- learn the alphabet and basic words (only English), disclaimer? Maybe? not the same as duolingo, this app is made for children

CW- none! :3

Extras! (games I found while making this list)

Plants vs Zombies 1, 2 and 3

Description- fight zombies by setting up plants with different abilities! I recommend this for older kids, I had pvz 1 and 2 when I was younger and I was very bad at it haha

CW- zombies, ungorey violence (no blood etc)

Sundae picnic

Description- make ice cream for cats and dogs! (please don't actually give cats or dogs ice cream)

CW- none! :3

Pokemon sleep

Description- collect pokemon by sleeping (sometimes the app doesn't record your sleep properly but usually it's ok, still fun either way)

CW- none! :3

Khan kids

Description- I haven't played it yet but it looks like it has little mini games for younger kids on it!

CW- idk :c

[vintagebuckybarnes]

Pumpkin Spice And Everything Nice

Pairing → College Student! Boyfriend! Bucky Barnes x College Student! Partner! Gender Neutral! Reader

Total Wordcount → 2.2K

Summary → Falling in love with your roommate, Bucky, has been one of the best things ever to have happened to you, and he’s showing you every single day how much he loves you. Today, you’ll turn the tables around by taking him on a surprise date after he tells you he’s never been to a pumpkin patch. Together, you will make some memories you will cherish forever, and a tradition might also be born from it.

Tags & Warnings → Canon divergence, college au, roommate au, roommates turned lovers, domestic bliss bursting the seams of this story, implied lovemaking.

Story Rating → Teen

Author’s Note → This story is written for a writing challenge hosted by @elixirfromthestars! This story is inspired by the Stud & Smartie universe, written by the lovely @navybrat817. I have, of course, tried to give my spin to the story, but I believe in giving credit where credit is due, so thank you so much for inspiring this story, Navy! 💜

Writing Prompts @anyfandomfluffbingo → ”Come back to bed.” @elixirfromthestars → College au | “No, I’m not letting you go. It’s too early to get out of bed.” | “What else do I need if I have my whole world in my arms?” | “I like hearing your heart beating when I put my head on your chest.” @fandom-free-bingo Bug Edition → Food coma @fandom-free-bingo Medical Edition → ‘I always want you to’ | “I’m here.” | Singing in the shower

Tag List → If you’d like to be tagged in my stories, you can add yourself to my tag list here.

Falling in love with your roommate may have been the best thing ever to have happened to you, apart from starting your new, exciting life on the other side of the country. Even though your parents have always given you everything your heart desired, the one thing you always missed was the freedom to explore the world, and even though moving to New York isn’t exactly the other side of the world, it still felt like a dream come true to move out of the small town you used to call home. Now, your home is your roommate and boyfriend, Bucky.

For the past few weeks, the weather in New York City has changed into your favorite season, and the changing colors are making you feel happier than ever. Autumn has always been the time of year that made you feel the happiest, as cozy days at home with hot chocolate and movie nights with rain in the background have calmed your mind down on days when you needed it most. It also means your favorite activity of the year is returning: visiting a pumpkin patch and enjoying as many pumpkin-related treats as you can handle in one day.

The rain is softly tapping against the window as you’re curled up under the covers of your boyfriend’s room - your bed hasn’t seen any sign of life in a little over a month, as you’ve practically moved into his bedroom, seeing that it’s the larger of the two in your apartment. Even though you lived there first, and he became your roommate about a month into your first semester, you moved into the smaller bedroom on your first day, decorating it into a warm, cozy place that now has turned into your reading room.

Bucky’s arm is wrapped around you, his warm body pressed against your back as his lips leave a trail of soft kisses over your neck and shoulder. From the moment you two started officially dating, he has made it his mission to wake you up this way every day, and so far, he’s succeeded every time. Your days have started better, and you’ve also noticed your sleeping habits have improved since sharing a bed with him. However, it also means that your habit of getting up early has gone out the window now that you want to spend as much time together as possible.

“How do you look even more beautiful every morning we spend together, Angel?”

In Bucky’s words, you can feel the heat surging throughout your body, and a smile tugs at the corners of your lips as he compliments you. Without a second thought, you turn around in his hold, gently kissing the tip of his nose once you’re comfortable.

“I’m not sure. It must be because of how happy you make me, Bucky,” you tell him, your fingers trailing softly over his cheekbone. At this, it’s his turn to smile widely, his cheeks reddening at your sweet words. The love between you two is filling your entire apartment, threatening to burst at the seams, and you’ve been wondering for a while if it’s too soon to say it, but you also know you won’t be able to hold it in much longer. And this is precisely why you have planned a special date today.

“I think it’s about time we get up and get ready for my plans today; we still have to drive a little over an hour to get to our destination,” you tell him, but he shakes his head slightly at the thought of leaving the warm nest you two have created. His eyes meet yours lovingly, his entire face softening as he pulls you in for a gentle kiss that takes your breath away.

“No, I’m not letting you go. It’s too early to get out of bed,” Bucky whispers, his deep, gravelly voice finding its way deep into your body and soul as it often does. He could tell you anything he wants, and you’d happily gobble it up as long as it means you getting to hear it as much as possible. A soft, almost inaudible moan slips past your lips as you remember what he told you yesterday as you two were making love in this very same bed, your eyes slipping shut at the thought of it.

“What’s on your mind?” Bucky then asks, despite knowing exactly what’s going through your head. Instead of answering, you pull the duvet over your head to hide from him, and he laughs loudly as he pulls you against his chest, where you happily make yourself comfortable again. Your following words sound a bit muffled to your boyfriend, but they make him smile nevertheless.

“I like hearing your heart beating when I put my head on your chest. It’s comforting,” you tell him, and you two stay like this for a little longer until you really have to get out of bed. By the time Bucky is in the shower belting out one of his go-to shower songs, and you’re making breakfast - pumpkin spiced pancakes with maple syrup - the rain has finally stopped, and the sun is starting to appear, giving you hope for the day to turn beautiful.

The warm smell of spices fills the air as your boyfriend comes out of his room, fully dressed and his hair styled in the usual way. His cheeks are still red from the hot shower as he walks into the kitchen, ready to get more cuddles in before breakfast. As you feel his long, strong arms wrapping around your waist, you sink into his hold, his cologne hanging in the air and the spices you used in the pancakes.

“Something smells good,” he says as he puts his head on your shoulder, peeking over at the growing pile you’ve already created. A smile brightens your face as you lean into your boyfriend’s hold, butterflies in your stomach running rampant at the simple touch. Sometimes, it still feels unreal for you to be together, and this is one of those moments, but you cherish every second as if it might be the last.

“Thank you,” you whisper to your boyfriend as you concentrate on flipping the pancake. A satisfied hum is in the air as you appreciate its golden brown color.

“Now, before I go and finish the pancakes, is there anything else you need from me?” you ask with a teasing hint to your voice, but the answer that came from your boyfriend is something you wouldn’t have expected him to say, instead going for something like whipped cream or extra syrup. He doesn’t disappoint, though.

“What else do I need when I have my whole world in my arms? Unless you’re offering to come back to bed with me, in which case I definitely need you to do that!” You roll your eyes playfully as you chuckle, knowing he’s always looking for ways to get you back in bed to spend the entire day doing nothing but making love.

“If I didn’t have something special planned for today, I would have gone back to bed with you, but I’ve been working on today’s plans for nearly a month, and it seems like a waste to let it go by without a second thought,” you tell him softly after turning in his arms, your hands lying on his shoulders.

“In that case, I’m sticking to your plans today, Angel. I wouldn’t want to disappoint my princess,” he tells you, which has a wave of heat coursing through your veins. Bucky leans in to kiss your lips softly, your eyes slipping shut as he does. When he pulls away, you follow him to get more kisses, and he happily gives them before letting you finish the pancakes and setting up some plates and cutlery on the kitchen island where you two have breakfast together nearly every morning.

“Bucky? Where are you?!” you ask again as you walk through your apartment, ready to go but unable to find your boyfriend. It’s like he’s hiding from you without meaning to do so, and when you finally hear his voice, you let out a breath of relief you weren’t aware you were holding in.

“I’m here, Angel,” he yells from the bathroom attached to your now-shared bedroom. His head pokes around the corner as you walk into the room, plopping down a small bag on the bed before walking over to him and pecking him on the cheek.

“Are you ready to go?” you ask him, and he nods with a broad smile, excitement flowing through his body as he does. How you look up at him has him softening, his neck bending to capture your lips with his. It doesn't take long for the two of you to be in your car, singing along loudly to your favorite music while enjoying some snacks you brought in preparation for your date.

Once you're nearing your destination, Bucky is increasingly curious about what you will do. So far, you have given him practically nothing to work with other than saying you're going somewhere he's never been before, and he's still wracking his brain over what it could possibly be.

"I think it's unfair that you're not giving any hints, Angel; how am I supposed to know where we're going if you're not saying anything?" A slight pout on his lips makes you chuckle as you glance over briefly, and your butterflies inside are again going wild.

"I think it's entirely fair because you always surprise me with the most romantic dates, so today, I will give you a taste of your medicine. It might not be as romantic as you leaving rose petals everywhere before cooking me a fancy dinner and taking me to bed afterward, but I'm sure it'll be a close second."

As Bucky looks outside after your comment, a small smile tugging at his mouth, he suddenly spots a large sign for a pumpkin patch, and it all clicks.

"You're taking me to a pumpkin patch, right?!" The excitement is audible as his voice raises slightly near the end. Not too long ago, he confessed to you that he had never been to a pumpkin patch while growing up, so today, you'll change that. After a few hours of research, you found one that's supposedly amazing, and even though it's a nearly three-hour car ride away, you're more than willing to drive to see his first reaction to visiting a pumpkin patch.

"Wait-" he says, narrowing his eyes at you, "- you've been giving hints for a while, huh? The fall decorations, pumpkins appearing in our apartment, the pumpkin pancakes..." As he pieces everything together, you can't help but feel proud of being able to go through this experience with him.

"Hm-hmm."

The rest of the car ride, you two discuss every hint you've dropped, even the ones he didn't pick up on, and when you arrive, it's like heaven's gates have opened based on your boyfriend's expression. He takes you everywhere, eyes growing wide as the two of you take your time taking everything in.

There are a few food stands that sell the most delicious pumpkin and apple treats, as well as a hot chocolate stand, different games having to do with pumpkins, a maze built out of pumpkins, and last but not least, a patch to pick your pumpkin to take home for carving.

The happiness in his eyes is childlike in the best possible way, and he can't stop squeezing your hand in excitement as he takes a moment to stop at every stand and game, wanting to try everything.

"Would you like me to buy you a treat of my choice?" you ask him as you stand in front of a stand that sells countless types of pumpkin—and apple-flavored pastries, as well as drinks such as apple cider and pumpkin-spiced lattes.

"I always want you to choose something for me, Angel. You have the best taste in everything related to baked goods. I'm happy to end the day in some sort of a food coma if you keep choosing these amazing treats," he says, and your mouth curls into a smile as you order two warm apple turnovers and a large slice of a classic pumpkin pie to share. Bucky gets you both a cup of hot chocolate from the stand directly next to it, and once you've found a comfortable spot to enjoy your treats, you're happily diving in.

"Bucky, I have something to tell you-"

"I'll let you finish in a moment, but first, I must tell you something, Angel. I cannot thank you enough for taking me here! The weather is fantastic, the treats are heavenly, and most importantly, it made me realize how much I love you."

As he says the words, you're overwhelmed with emotions, tears brimming at your waterline as they sink in. Knowing that he feels the same about you and loves you is a feeling you could only dream of, but knowing it's true has your heart beating out of your chest from pure excitement.

"I love you too, Bucky," you whisper, followed by a kiss that seals your words. They're finally in the universe, and you couldn't be happier. Out of all the things you thought would come out of going to college, you never in a million years falling in love with your roommate would be one of those things.

Even though your life may not always have been the most exciting, you're now looking forward to the excitement and love Bucky will bring from here on out, starting with going to a pumpkin patch every year to relive the moment you're currently experiencing.

Masterlist → Bucky Barnes

GIF: Source → All the other graphics are made by @vintagebuckybarnes

[achaotichuman]

A couple of things I see a lot when it comes to the Tamlin vs Rhysand discussions are, who is worse? And Rhysand and Tamlin are two sides of the same coin, so they both have an equal negative effect on the series.

So I decided to compile a list comparing both Rhysand and Tamlin's negative/abusive actions within the ACOTAR series and compare them.

Note, this does not include actions from the CC series, though I am sure that would add to the list.

I tried to write this with as little bias as possible, but I am writing from memory, so please feel absolutely free to add anything I may have missed. But please refrain from rudeness or hateful behavior, you will be blocked and ignored.

Also keep in mind, all of these are their actions as they are, so no justifying context is given if there is any. And these are the things they are DIRECTLY responsible for, so anything that was otherwise out of their control is not being added, take Nesta and Elain being kidnapped by Hybern, that was not Tamlin's fault, so it is not on the list.

Without further ado, here is my list comparing Rhysand's actions and Tamlin's.

**Additions to the list.**

For Tamlin:

Slut-shaming Feyre at the High Lords meeting

Not apologizing for biting her

For Rhysand:

Encourages/forces segregation not just within the Hewn City but also with Illyria. Even when he allows Hewn City folk to come into Velaris, he makes for absolute certain that they will not be welcome and will be barred from everywhere.

Keeps evil men who abuse their power in charge, despite 'advocating for change', take Keir and Devlon. Keir tortured his daughter and left her to die. Devlon allows and promotes wing-clipping, despite Rhysand outlawing it.

Puts Feyre's life in danger with the Weaver

Uses Elain as a political pawn to string along Lucien

He suicide-baits Tamlin

He allows one of his IC members to attack Eris during the High Lord's meeting, despite peace being promised

_____________________________

Apologies if the quality is not the best, I took screenshots because I am NOT rewriting all of this into Tumblr post format.

[gonzo-rella]

Together in the Shadows | Eloise Bridgerton

MASTERLIST | AO3 | KO-FI

NOTE: I prefer to write the reader as gender neutral, but as Bridgerton is set in a very gendered time, that poses a challenge. The reader in this is implied to be, societally, a woman; they are alone with Eloise without worrying about scandal, so this implies that the reader is perceived as a woman. However, I've deliberately been as vague as possible about the reader character to make them as close to gender neutral as possible and haven't explicitly referred to them as being a woman so that some nonbinary and trans folks like myself can feel comfortable reading this fic.

Relationship(s): Eloise Bridgerton x fem-coded/possibly gn!reader (romantic)

Summary: Your sister's last-minute ball is disastrous, but at least it allows you to spend some time alone with Eloise.

Warnings: Nothing beyond kissing. (Let me know if I need to add any)

Word count: 0.8k

(A/N: I'm so in love with Eloise Bridgerton. I want to be in a secret situationship with her, so here's my attempt at exploring that. Also, I haven't actually written a lot of fics that include kissing, so I'm glad I got some practise in writing something I normally don't write. A lot of my original projects are romcoms (including a Regency-inspired duology and a zombie apocalypse story) so it'd help me out a great deal if you let me know what you think of how I did writing the romance in this!)

“Is it not a bit chilly to be out here, Miss Bridgerton?” A grin tugged at Eloise’s lips. She stopped dead in her tracks and peered over her shoulder, not quite looking at you. For a moment, she listened to your footsteps as you paced towards her, though the rustling of grass under your shoes was barely audible over the piercing noise of the string quartet that carried itself through the windows and doors. She scrunched up her nose at the unfortunate sound.

“Perhaps. But, I am afraid I may spiral into a state of madness should I stand in that room for a second longer. I can, however, withstand this cold and my mama’s scolding of me for my absence.”

You wore a mocking frown as you finally reached her side. You were both illuminated by the golden light that shone through the windows and the pale glow of the moon. She turned her head to look at you. For a moment, you forgot to breathe. She was naturally beautiful, but seeing her in this lighting… she looked ethereal. It took you a moment to compose yourself enough to form coherent thought and speech. You weren’t sure that she had noticed the momentary falter.

“In my dear sister’s defence, she poured her whole soul into planning this spectacular event this afternoon.”

Eloise snorted.

“It certainly is a spectacle. I shudder to think what Lady Whistledown will write about it.”

You chuckled and linked arms with her. Briefly averting your gaze, you looked through the window at the attendees who were pretending to enjoy themselves or whispering to each other, presumably uttering some cruel things about this awful ball. Meanwhile, Eloise’s eyes flickered down to where the pair of you made contact, then back up to your face. The skin of your arm brushed against hers, and the gentle friction generated a light tingling sensation that flooded her whole body. She almost couldn’t keep herself upright, and she tightened her grip on your arm to steady herself. Despite the cold night air, her cheeks burned. With her free hand, she reached up to feel the warming flesh of her face. Heat seeped through the fabric of her gloves to her fingertips. The second you returned your attention to her, she quickly lowered her arm, embarrassed.

“However scathing it may be, I assure you that my sister will be delighted to have even been acknowledged,” you said. You paused before continuing. “Given how dreadful everything is in there, I shouldn’t think our absence will be noticed. Would you like to wander the grounds so we do not freeze to death?”

A breathy laugh escaped her lips. 

“Of course. Might we wander far enough that we can escape that cacophony? Somewhere that will afford us some… privacy, perhaps?”

You grinned back at her.

“Certainly, Miss Bridgerton. I know the perfect place for us to enjoy one another’s company.”

Stealing a final glance behind you, you led her to a secluded part of the vast garden, where you would both be hidden by grand hedges. You let go of her arm and turned to face her.

“Is this to your liking?”

A smirk tugged at her lips.

“Anywhere that you are is to my liking.”

“That is so very sweet, I can almost forgive how nauseatingly trite it is.”

She rested her hand on her chest in mock-offence.

“Oh, how you wound me.”

Of course, she can’t have been that wounded, given her grin.

“Would you feel better if I offered you a kiss?”

She scoffed and rolled her eyes.

“And, that is not trite?”

You shrugged innocently, unable to suppress a smile.

“I could not think of a more creative way to ask if I could kiss you. I know how you value originality.”

Without hesitation, Eloise placed her hands on your cheeks, and brought your face close to hers. Her breath fanned your skin. Through half-lidded eyes, you watched her gaze flicker to your lips.

“Being direct would have done,” she muttered. “After all, I have been waiting all night for this.”

“Then, why wait a second longer?”

Eloise let out a low chuckle, then closed the gap between you entirely. The kiss was gentle at first, but within seconds her hunger for you became clear. One hand moved to the back of your head to bring you in closer. The other remained planted firmly on the side of your face, her gloved thumb grazing your cheekbone. The motion was so light that you gasped quietly into the kiss, to Eloise’s delight. Her lips moved against yours with fervour, as though she was determined to take in and savour as much of your taste as possible. You rested your palms on her shoulders, and as your hand drifted up her neck you could feel her racing pulse. Then, your fingers became entangled in her hair. You tugged on it softly, and a quiet hum escaped her lips.

Reluctantly, she pulled away, but she only managed to get her face an inch away from yours. She laughed quietly, while you couldn’t help but grin.

“Was that to your liking, Miss Bridgerton?”

“You are always to my liking.”

[sublimesims]

Love The Sims 3 Lepacy Challenge but you play The Sims 4? Look no further for I have created a lepacy challenge for The Sims 4 right here!

Here is the Google Document for the rules or read below!

As someone who loves the Sims 3 lepacy challenge, I thought I would create one for The Sims 4. I’m aware there is one already made by annaliesembsims on Tumblr but it didn’t fit the criteria I was looking for in the challenge. Their challenge looks wonderful, I just play a little differently. Thanks to both the sims 3 lepacy creator and annaliesembsims! If you see any similarities below, all credit goes to them. Let’s get into the basics!

This is an expansion pack only lepacy challenge. You don’t need to add any game packs, stuff packs, or kits unless you want to. ***Personally, whenever I start a new gen I will also be downloading the game packs and stuff packs that came out that same year.

Unless specified, your sim may have any traits or aspirations you wish.

Feel free to tag me so I can see your wonderful posts!

Generation 1 (Base Game)

You need a fresh start. What’s better than packing everything you own and moving to a completely new town? You move to this new town lost and confused about your future. Somehow, you get a job even though you have no degree or credentials! While your job is tolerable, you’re mainly missing having friends and hobbies and a lover. Now’s the time to do all of those things with your new way of life!

Must live in one of the three base game worlds (Willow Creek, Oasis Springs, or Newcrest)

Must have a base game job

Must have at least 3 friends

Max two skills

Must complete a base game aspiration

Must get married to a townie

Have at least 2 kids

***Packs that came out the same year as base game: None

Generation 2 (Get to Work)

You always admired your parents but saw how they both dreaded going to work every day. You want to work in a field you’re passionate about. As a kid you always dreamed of being the big boss, whether that be as a doctor, scientist, detective, or business owner. Time to get to workin’!

Move to one of the other worlds from Base Game (or Get to Work)

Must become a doctor, scientist, detective, or own your own business

If you chose a career, you must reach level 10

If you chose owning a business, you must earn at least 25,000 simoleons before the end of the generation

Max skills needed for job

Marry a coworker (or customer) and eventually get divorced

Have only 1 child

Make sure your child maxes all skills from infant-child and reaches all of their aspiration goals before becoming a young adult

***Packs that came out the same year as get to work: Outdoor Retreat, Luxury Party Stuff, Perfect Patio Stuff, Day Spa, Cool Kitchen Stuff, Spooky Stuff

Generation 3 (Get Together)

Your parents always pushed you to do your best in school to the point of having the Perfectionist or the Erratic trait. Once you became a young adult you decided you wanted to relax and have fun! The rumors of Windenburg’s parties have lured you to the scenic town. You still talk to your parents but are trying to distance yourself as they pressure you to settle down and get a consistent job.

Must have the perfectionist or erratic trait

Live in Windenburg

Must have one of the traits from Get Together (dance machine or insider)

Must have the Leader of the Pack aspiration and complete it

Must max out dancing and DJing skills

Must have at least one kid (if you want multiple then they can not share the same father/mother)

Never get married

***Packs that came out the same year as get together: Get Together came out the same year as Get to Work and the other packs

Generation 4 (City Living)

Your parent showed you how to live life in an exhilarating way! While you enjoyed staying up late and eating junk food and basically having no rules your entire life, you also craved the stability that never came. Moving to San Myshuno always intrigued you but you knew you would never be able to afford it on your own. But, wait! Your best friend wants to leave Windenburg too! Isn’t that just dandy?

Live in San Myshuno with at least one roommate

Must have the Unflirty or Vegetarian trait

Must have the City Native aspiration and completed

Must get married to roommate 

Go to every festival

Become a critic, politician, or social media influencer, or singing “career” and max the job

If you chose the “singing” career just make sure you can make livable wages

Try every single food from the stalls

Have as many kids as you would like

Max singing skill

***Packs that came out the same year as city living: Movie Hangout, Romantic Garden, Dineout, Kids Room, Backyard, Vintage Glamour

Generation 5 (Cats & Dogs)

Growing up you had to deal with the hustle and bustle of city life. Everything was cramped, busy, and packed. There wasn’t even enough room for a pet. You saw an ad on Simtube about Brindleton Bay one day and ever since then, you have dreamed of living there. The fresh air, the pets, all of it sounds so enticing!

Live in Brindleton Bay

Own a cat and dog

Have a litter of kittens or puppies

Become a vet and max the skill

Max the pet training skill

Have the cat lover or dog lover trait

Have the Friend of the Animals aspiration and complete it

Get married and have three kids

Optional: Have a simstagram for your pet

***Packs that came out the same year as cats and dogs: Vampire, bowling, parenthood, fitness, toddlers

Generation 6 (Seasons)

Living in Brindleton Bay all of your life was great, except for the rain (listen…i know this isn’t technically right because you aren’t supposed to have seasons until your sims are young adults but work with me lol). While Brindleton Bay had all four seasons, you still felt it lacked something because of all of the rain. Time to move!

Live in any world except Brindleton Bay

Experience a holiday (whatever holiday you want) in each season

Rely only on beekeeping and flower arrangement for an income (feel free to have a florist shop)

Max flower arranging and skating skills

Have at least one aspiration reward trait from seasons

Declare favorite season/weather

Get married to someone who has the opposition declaration 

Have as many kids as you want but each child must max the scouting activity

***Packs that came out the same year as seasons: Laundry, jungle adventure, my first pet

Generation 7 (Get Famous)

Small town life never intrigued you. You thought everyone was boring, the town you grew up in was boring, and nothing interested you. Except being famous. You would stay up late watching Simtube and meticulously rating movies on Letter Box and obsessing over your favorite celebrities. Now that you’re a young adult you’re free to do whatever you want! Time to move to Del Sol Valley!

Live in Del Sol Valley

Have the self-absorbed trait

Have either the World Famous Celebrity aspiration or the Master Actor and complete it

Become an actor or influencer 

Max either the acting skill or media production skill

Have a pristine or atrocious reputation

Reach max celebrity level

Marry another celebrity

Have as many kids as you want but each kid has to be into the drama club

***Packs that came out the same year as get famous: get famous came out the same year as seasons

Generation 8 (Island Living)

Growing up with famous parents and being forced to go to red carpets, join the drama club, and having to deal with paparazzi has run you down and you just want to live life alone in peace. Sulani seems like the perfect place for rest and relaxation.

Live in Sulani

Attend all Sulani festivals (Don’t know when they happen? Try this mod!)

Have at least 5 friends

Marry a townie

Have 4 kids (make sure at least one child maxs all skills from infant-child and completes all of their aspirations from child-teen and gets A’s throughout entire schooling career)

Have the child of the island or the child of the ocean trait

Have the beach life aspiration and complete it

Become a conservationist, diver, fisherman, or lifeguard and make the career

Max athletic skill

***Packs that came out the same year as island living: strangerville, moschino, realm of magic

Generation 9 (Discover University)

Basking in the sun throughout your childhood has been wonderful but you have always craved knowledge. You always had A’s and maxed your skills to fulfill your need for knowledge but it was never enough. Your restlessness has made you antsy. Now that you’re a young adult, you can meet that need in University!

Get accepted into Britechester or Foxbury institute and live in the world

Have the academic aspiration and complete it

Max the research and debate skill or the robotics skill

Join an afterschool activity or an organization (secret society counts for an organization)

Achieve all A’s

Throw one party per semester

Once graduated, live anywhere you wish

End up having a job as an educator, law, or engineer

Have a college sweetheart and get married

Have as many kids as you want

Once you have graduated and joined a career, cheat on your spouse and get divorced

Marry sim you cheated with

Optional: Have a servo

***Packs that came out the same year as discover university: discover university came out the same year as island living

Generation 10 (Eco Lifestyle)

Your parents' love of knowledge has worn off on you, but for the worse. You are riddled with the knowledge of capitalism and its destruction of the planet. Evergreen Harbor has been on the news, specifically because of the pollution. Finally, you have had enough of just sitting around. You want to make a change! 

Live in Evergreen Harbor

Make sure every neighborhood in Evergreen Harbor has a green eco footprint

Have the freegan, green fiend, maker, or recycle disciple trait

Have the eco innovator or master maker aspiration and complete it

Max the civil designer job

Max the gardening, fabrication, or juice making skill

Marry a townie 

Have as many kids as you want

***Packs that came out the same year as eco lifestyle: tiny living, nifty knitting, journey to batuu

Generation 11 (Snowy Escape)

Since your parent was obsessed with nature and eco footprints, you spent a lot of time outside. This aided in your need for excitement and thrill. You were always at the playground and hanging out at the quarry. Now, you want to take your need for thrill to the next level in Mt. Komorebi!

Live in Mt. Komorebi

Visit all festivals

Have the adventurous or proper trait

Max the rock climbing, skiing, or snowboarding skill

Complete the extreme sports enthusiast or mt. komorebi sightseer aspiration

Have the salaryperson job (you don’t have to max this as it’s not your goal)

Visit all neighborhoods and complete some activities (meeting Yamachan in Wakaba, nature walk in Senbamachi, snowy activities in Yukimatsu, etc)

Marry a sim that has the same thrill for excitement and is mastering another skill you did not choose

Have 2 kids

***Packs that came out the same year as snowy escape: snowy escape came out the same year as eco lifestyle

Generation 12 (Cottage Living)

Mt. Komorebi is where your heart lies but you wish you lived more in the country. You have always loved animals but you can’t really own a cow when you live in the middle of town! You made a penpal in Henford-on-Bagley and they have convinced you to move there.

Live in Henford-on-Bagley

Have the animal enthusiast or lactose intolerant trait

Have the country caretaker aspiration and complete it

Max the cross stitch skill or the cooking skills (if you choose to go into canning things)

Have a barn, coop, and farm on your lot

Have the simple living or wild foxes lot challenge

Win a town fair

Complete at least 3 errands

Marry your “pen pal” (a townie)

Have five kids

***Packs that came out the same year as cottage living: paranormal, throwback fit, country kitchen, bust the dust, courtyard oasis, dram home decorator, industrial loft, fashion st, incheon arrivals, blooming rooms, modern menswear

Generation 13 (High School Years)

Your parents decided that the education you were receiving out in the country wasn’t good enough! They moved you all to Copperdale so you could have the true high school experience. Yay, I guess?

Live in Copperdale

Get all A’s

Join an afterschool activity or have a part-time job and max it

If you choose a part-time job you must create a club from get together so you can have friends!

Sneak out successfully

Throw a party while parents are out or on another lot

Have the overachiever, party animal, or socially awkward trait

Complete the drama llama, goal orientated, live fast, or admired icon aspiration

Get prom royalty or jester

Use social bunny often to update your status

Marry your highschool sweetheart (once you’re a young adult)

***Packs that came out the same year as high school years: carnaval streetwear, my wedding stories, decor to the max, moonlight chic, little campers, werewolves, first fits, desert luxe, everyday clutter, pastel pop

Generation 14 (Growing Together)

You watched your parents as you grew up and always idolized their love. While everyone else was getting divorced, your parents stayed through thick and thin. You hope one day you can find that kind of love too.

Have a freelancer job

Get married

Have 3 kids

Have a dog or cat

Each kid must reach all of the milestones and have their own aspirations (and complete them) and traits (no repetition)

Must have a baby shower, family reunion, and sleepover at some point

Must visit recreation center often

Must have midlife crisis and do it (except the divorce one)

Optional: Max parenting skill (parenthood required)

***Packs that came out the same year as growing together: simtimates, bathroom clutter, greenhouse haven, basement treasures, grunge revival, book nook

Generation 15 (Horse Ranch)

Your parents let you have your own personalities and lives as you grew and you turned out to be a horse girl/boy! Congrats! San Sequoia lacked horses and equestrian activities. But, just a little bit east, is the town of Chestnut Ridge! Known for their horses, square dancing, and wine making, this town sounds just down right perfect for you.

Live in Chestnut Ridge

Have the horse lover or rancher trait

Have the championship rider or expert nectar maker aspiration and complete it

Master the riding and nectar making traits

Have at least 2 horses who makes their skills

Own sheep or goats

Get married

Have as many kids as you want

Have your spouse die (riperoni)

***Packs that came out the same year as horse ranch: modern luxe, poolside splash, home chef hustle

Generation 16 (For Rent)

Living in a small town where one of your parents was more concerned with their horses than you and the other one being dead has left you feeling a little lost. You crave the sense of a close knit family and friendship. You went on a trip in high school to Tomarang and loved every moment of it. Ever since you got back from that trip, you have thought about Tomarang. Now that you’re a young adult and can make your own choices you have decided to leave your parent to Chestnut Ridge in search of your own belonging in Tomarang.

Live in Tomarang

Have the nosy, generous, or child of the village trait (once you are an elder you need the wise trait)

Either become a property owner or have the part time handyperson job

If you are a property owner you need to decide if you want pristine living conditions where you have the highest ratings or the worst landlord known to man and achieve that goal

If you go into the part-time job you need to make sure you have at least 5 friends

Marry a townie and max your friendship with all of their family members

Have a pool party and potluck at some point

You must live with your spouse’s family

Have at least two kids

You need to have the seeker of secrets, five-star property owner, fount of Tomarani knowledge, or discerning dweller aspiration and complete it

***Packs that were released the same year as for rent: just the ones listed in horse ranch

Generation 17 (Lovestruck)

While your parents and grandparents were in love and devoted to each other, you aren’t sure of what you want. You aren’t sure of your sexuality or who you are, really, and your family is pressuring you to settle down and start a family. Because of the pressure you feel you choose to move to Ciudad Enamorada. You’ve heard all about its passion and culture and you can’t wait to explore.

Live in Ciudad Enamorada

Have the love bug or romantically reserved trait

Choose one of the romantic aspirations (lovestruck related or not) and complete it

Decide on your sexuality and attraction and jealousy

Go on at least five dates from Cupid’s Corner (one of them must be a blind date and one must be a get to know you date)

Have sexy dance time with a romantic partner

Complete one of the challenges (the dating show, have a real sugar relationship when asked if you want one, or the third option which i swear exists but for the life of me i cannot remember what it is)

Have the romance consultant job (you don’t have to max it but it must be your career)

Max the romance skill

Woohoo in the closet, rug, love hotel, and the heart shaped bed

***Packs that were released the same time as lovestruck: castle estate, goth galore, crystal creations, urban homage, party essentials, riviera retreat, and cozy bistro

[literatureloverx]

Hey there! I love your way of writing sm 😭 , especially when it's about fyodor , so I was wondering about a scenario or like headcannons about what he'd be like as a father ,I thought it'd be cool but it's put to you if you feel like writing about it :)

Hello, my dear!❤️ thank you and wow, the first one to approach me non-anonymously!

Of course, I love that idea. Fyodor as a father is indeed a very challenging thing to write, but guess what? I’m up for challenges. More so if they are about things I truly enjoy to do. I already wrote a scenario about his approach to having a family, HERE.

Now, I took it upon myself to write another scenario on a simple everyday life of Fyodor and his darlings daughter.

I’ll add some general Dad!Fyodor headcanons…I just don’t know when.

I hope you enjoy it!❤️

Some words are mispronounced as in baby-words, soft!Fyodor, husband!Fyodor, wife!reader, dad!Fyodor x daughter, teeth rotting fluff.

Just like her father (and mother)

You smile as your babygirl, your daughter, runs into the arms of your beloved husband, her father.

"Daddy!"

You giggle at the sight of your adorable daughter and your husband, who greets her with warmth and affection.

Fyodor scoops her up with practiced ease, holding her against his chest. He is gentle with her, his eyes sparkling dimly as he gazes at his beloved child.

He huffs a soft laugh at her giggles, then shifts his gaze to you.

You sigh, feeling a sense of wonder. It's like a miracle to see such a calculating and distant man as your husband transform into a warm, calm, and understanding father for your daughter.

He may not appreciate surprises or impulsive actions, but with your daughter, he is patient and tolerant, which warms your heart so, so deeply.

For a man who never seriously considered having children, he is remarkably affectionate.

"Ah, my two girls."

You look at your husband fondly as you approach him, gliding across the floor, his eyes fixed on you. Your smile, your presence welcoming him home, makes him feel truly at ease. He silently thanks the universe for bringing you into his life, despite his resistance to normality.

You hug him, careful not to squeeze your daughter between you two.

"Welcome home, my love. We missed you."

His gaze softens as he returns your affection, leaning in to brush his lips gently against yours in a chaste kiss.

His free arm wraps around you, holding you close.

When he breaks the kiss, he nuzzles into your neck, inhaling your scent. His voice is low and tender as he murmurs into your ear.

"I missed the two of you as well."

"Mommy made Kulebwyaka! And salad!" your daughter chimes in.

You gently caress her head, subtly inhaling your husband's scent, careful not to pique your daughter's curiosity.

Fyodor smirks. Oh, the woman you are. His woman.

"Oh, did she now? That's lovely, darling."

His voice remains gentle, though his lips curve into a smirk as he turns back to you, his purple eyes filled with affection. He whispers softly, so only you can hear.

"I'm looking forward to dinner, dear. I'm famished."

You kiss his cheek softly, and your daughter giggles at the display of affection between her parents.

"I can imagine, love. Dinner is ready. Should we have a bit of...adult juice as well?"

A sly smirk tugs at the corners of his lips as he hums quietly, your kiss lingering on his cheek. At your suggestion, he leans in and murmurs into your ear, his voice a gentle, seductive whisper.

"Of course. You know how thirsty I always am when I come home to you, dearest."

His soft growl against your earlobe makes you twitch.

"I didn't even mean it that way.."

Your daughter lifts her head, her eyes wide with curiosity. "What is adult juice?"

He chuckles softly, his lips brushing against your ear before he turns to his daughter, his smirk still in place, though more appropriate for the little one.

"Adult juice is for adults only, little darling. Some things are just for grown-ups, yes?"

Your daughter puffs her cheeks, making them look even more pinchable.

His smirk widens, his voice low and just for your ears.

"But you like it when I'm naughty, don't you, dear?"

You whisper back, "I live for it."

His smirk broadens at your response, a glimmer of playful mischief in his eyes.

"Daddy, I know what adult chewwy juice is," your daughter says, her tone confident.

He turns to her, chuckling softly. "That's right, little one. Daddy does enjoy some 'adult cherry juice' now and then."

You smile at your chatty daughter.

Children are indeed adorable when they think they've figured something out on their own.

"Why don't you show Daddy your pictures while I set the dinner table, darling?"

Fyodor gently shifts her to the floor and pats her head affectionately.

"Yes, go on, show me your pictures, darling."

Your little daughter runs off with adorable giggles-the sweet, gentle sound she inherited from you.

As soon as she's out of sight, you softly brush your lips against your husband's.

"My love..."

Fyodor hums lowly, wrapping an arm around your waist and pulling you close, his purple gaze locking onto yours. His sly smirk returns as he whispers, his voice thick with affection and hidden desire.

"Mhm...? What is it, my love?"

"I missed you..."

You place a soft kiss at the corner of his lips. He leans into it, an almost inaudible sigh escaping as he feels your touch.

His grip tightens around your waist, drawing you even closer.

"You've already said that, my dearest," he murmurs, his voice tinged with playful mock annoyance.

“I'm afraid you're making me lose my mind.." You give him another soft kiss.

"Oh? Well, l'd love to make you lose it entirely.."

His smirk fades into a knowing smile as he leans closer, his lips brushing against your ear. His grip on you is firm, possessive.

His voice drops to a whisper, thick with temptation and seduction.

Your daughter runs into the expansive hall, her little feet pattering against the polished floor as she holds five papers in her hand, each one scribbled and painted in a chaotic mix of colors that match the stains on her fingers.

Fyodor turns his head slowly towards the little one, his arm around you not loosening in the slightest. A rare smile touches his lips—a softer, warmer expression than his usual smirk, yet his eyes gleam with a hint of calculation, as though every interaction is part of a grander design.

“Ah, here you are, darling. Will you show me your pretty pictures now?” His voice is warm, but there's an underlying tone that suggests he's fully aware of the effect his attention has on her.

“Yes, Daddy! Look, this is our famiwy and the willowies in the garden!” she exclaims, tugging at his hand with a gentle insistence, signaling that she wants to be scooped up again.

“I'll be setting up the table, my loves,” you announce.

Fyodor briefly shifts his gaze to you, his expression almost unreadable, but the glint in his eyes betrays a silent acknowledgment of your importance in this carefully crafted domestic scene.

Obeying his daughter’s wordless request, he scoops her up into his arms, giving her a slight twirl to elicit the giggles he knows she’ll produce. He looks at the pictures she proudly displays, and his expression softens—though there’s a knowing quality to it, as if he’s subtly guiding her development even now.

“Ah, I love the pictures. You’ve made them so pretty, sweetheart. And look at all the…”

He falls silent for a moment, as if carefully calculating the perfect word, then makes his decision in the span of a brief second and continues speaking in a warm tone.

“…willowies… do you know why they’re called ‘weeping willows’?”

You move to the enormous kitchen with a fond smile, hearing your daughter’s giggles as she explains her drawings while you set the table. It’s refreshing to observe Fyodor, who is usually so calculating, taking the time to gently, yet meticulously, engage with your daughter.

For a man of his intellect, the depth of his involvement in these small, everyday moments is a testament to his commitment. It’s a pity he had to keep so much of his brilliance to himself before meeting you, his love, his soul, and the treasure of your daughter.

Fyodor continues to listen to your daughter’s explanations, his gaze periodically shifting to you, as if calculating the perfect moment to acknowledge your presence. The little girl’s giggles are like music to him, a perfect harmony in his otherwise strategic, carefully crafted side.

She embodies everything he values, a perfect blend of you and him.

After a few moments, he focuses his attention back on his daughter, his voice gentle but with a sharpness that suggests he’s mentally analyzing every word.

“That’s lovely, darling. You’re such a wonderful little artist, just like your mommy.”

The little one pouts, her expression mirroring yours almost too perfectly. “Daddy, you’re always pwaising Mommy. I did this all alone.”

Fyodor’s smirk returns, filled with affection and a touch of calculated charm. “But of course, darling. Daddy admires his wife immensely.”

His chuckle is soft, almost analytical, as he teases while poking her pouting cheeks.

“And I’m very impressed that you did it all on your own. Though, you can’t blame me for seeing you and Mommy as similar; after all, you do look so much like her.”

Her wide eyes make you chuckle in the kitchen. She’s adorable, and even though Fyodor insists she resembles you, it’s clear she has inherited many traits from him as well.

Her keen attention to detail and quick grasp of concepts remind you of Fyodor’s sharp mind. Aesthetically, she resembles you—a soft, innocent face paired with deep violet eyes. She’s a beautiful blend of you two, a divine gift crowning your marriage.

After a while of chatting, the adorable conversation turned to your marriage.

“Daddy and Mommy are...mawwied?! Why are you mawwied to my mommy?!”

Fyodor lets out a quiet, knowing laugh at her innocent question. His response is gentle, yet the precision of his words reveals the depth of his affection and his strategic nature.

“Yes, Daddy and Mommy are married, sweetheart. It means we love and care for each other very much, and we made a promise to spend our lives together.”

A hint of teasing in his tone as he adds, “And I’m married to your mommy because I love her very much. Why wouldn’t I?”

It’s heartwarming to see someone like Fyodor, usually so analytical and superior, lowering himself to meet your daughter’s level. His carefully strengthened ability to express his love so openly is one of the greatest blessings of your life.

“But now I can’t mawwy Mommy…”

Fyodor’s soft laugh is filled with amusement, his enjoyment evident in the way he engages with her innocent questions. He leans in closer, his voice dropping to a gentle, deliberate drawl as he offers a warm smile.

It’s clear to you that your little daughter thinks "marriage" means sharing a bed with someone. And it’s no secret that she loves slipping between the two of you whenever she has bad dreams.

“Ah, so that’s what you want? Well, I’m afraid you can’t marry Mommy, darling, because we’re already married.”

He raises an eyebrow, giving her a playful look as if weighing his next words carefully.

Your little daughter huffs, her face troubled. “That doesn’t fit into what I imagined... I have to think again now.”

In moments like these, she sounds so much like her father, forming complex thoughts far beyond her years. Fyodor chuckles again, genuinely amused, as he gently pokes her cheeks and holds her close. His voice is warm and patient, his affection for her evident.

“Don’t worry, you have plenty of time to come up with new ideas.”

He ruffles her hair affectionately, adding teasingly, “But I’m afraid I’ve already claimed Mommy for myself.”

You smile fondly at the sight of your husband and daughter. “My loves, dinner is ready.”

Fyodor turns towards you, still holding their little one. His expression softens at the sight of you, and he smiles with a touch of calculated contentment.

“Ah, good. I was getting hungry already.”

“Did you tell Daddy what we did in the garden today?” you ask as you finish setting the table.

Fyodor’s curiosity is piqued, even though he can guess correctly; he turns his gaze back to your daughter, a glimmer of strategic interest in his eyes. He hums in anticipation, eyebrows raised.

“Tell me, darling, what did Mommy and you do in the garden today?”

“Oh, we saw a mister squiwwel and collected cheshnus…”

Her adorable mispronunciation makes you chuckle softly. You kiss her cheek affectionately as you help her into her baby chair.

Fyodor smiles, clearly amused by her little mistake. His gaze shifts to you, filled with fondness, as he watches you kiss her. He chuckles gently at her words.

“Ah, a squirrel and chestnuts, you say? That sounds exciting, darling.”

His voice is warm and engaging before he adds, his gaze returning to their daughter, “Did you have fun collecting them?”

“Mommy and I painted them pink and purple…”

Fyodor’s eyebrows raise in genuine surprise at the mention of her colorful modifications. He chuckles softly, his voice curious and slightly teasing.

“How creative. Did the mister squirrel enjoy that too?”

You chat for a while, sitting at the dining table and enjoying a wholesome family dinner. Before you begin eating, you gather around with Fyodor and your daughter to offer a heartfelt prayer.

It's a moment of quiet reflection, where Fyodor’s usual calculating demeanor gives way to a deep sense of gratitude. As you hold hands and offer thanks, the warmth and love of the family moment are palpable.

You gaze at your husband with deep affection, your eyes and soul reflecting the love you share. The prayer marks the culmination of your shared day, a beautiful blend of affection and spiritual connection, making the family dinner even more meaningful.

[klapollopilled]

okay upon watching the new teaser trailer for walpurgis rising, i wanna say that i have my suspicions that the girl waltzing with madoka in this scene isn't homura.

i don't have much to confirm my suspicions, aside from the fact that this "homura" just... looks and feels a bit different from the homura we know.

the first thing i noticed is that her eyes are a different color. at first i thought it may just be a lighting thing, but comparing it to the shot we got of Tired Homura from the first trailer, the eye colors are vastly different.

i find it particularly interesting that for the most part, in both trailers for the movie that we've gotten so far, whenever we get a glimpse of the homura with this specific headband below, her eyes are always closed. the exception being the new waltz scene, where we get a good look of her eyes up close for the first time. i feel like this was a deliberate choice when they were making these trailers.

also, i noticed that this homura's hair looks slightly wavy at the end, whereas regular homura's hair is straighter? this other homura's hair looks a bit more purple, too, but i might be looking too much into it.

lastly, this movie poster pretty much confirms the existence of another "homura", whether or not this is homura exactly, or another entity that is linked to her, i'm not sure.

+ this shot from the new trailer where we see homura's reflection in a compact mirror, her eyes are darker here, and her headband in this scene resembles the one from the back-facing homura in the poster. i think this is homura as we know her.

i'm interested to hear other people's thoughts, though. who do you think this "other homura" might be? i might've missed some stuff too, so feel free to add more

[atlabeth]

between colleagues - anthony lockwood

part 2

summary: besides, what's a bit of fake dating between colleagues anyway?

a/n: i have missed him!!! there is just something so fun about writing for l&co and anthony specifically i truly love their world and i love him!! this was originally going to be the entire thing in one fic but i decided to post this on its own and test the waters with you all because i am TIREd of writing long fics. free me from my prison. this is literally my third fake-dating fic bc i never get tired of the trope but lmk if you want to see more

wc: 3.1k

warning(s): fem!reader, mentions of: canon typical job stuff, a child dying (mentioned in passing. literally half a line), and a good ol fashioned breakdown. but this is almost completely fluff bc that's all in the background

You groaned as Lockwood pushed the door open, working through the knot in your shoulder while you all walked inside. You tossed your rapier into the umbrella stand, not even bothered by the clatter, and began unbuckling your belt. 

Winter was the worst season for ghost hunting. As if it weren’t already freezing enough dealing with Visitors and their effects, your most recent job was almost fully outside. You considered it a miracle hypothermia didn’t get you before any sort of ghost-touch.

“What are you groaning about?” Lockwood asked, glancing back at you. “I think tonight went rather well.” 

He’d removed his jacket, and his white undershirt was dirt-stained and damp with sweat. Though he looked unaffected as ever on the surface, the quickened rise and fall of his chest said, in his own way, he was just as exhausted as the rest of you. You raised an eyebrow, but Lucy beat you to the punch. 

“You think every night goes well if we come back alive,” she said wryly. 

“It’s not the best measurement,” George added. He tilted the iron charm over the door back into place then set his bag on the floor. “Tonight was rough, Lockwood. Even by your ridiculous terms.” 

Lockwood looked at you. “Anything you care to add?” 

You grimaced as you rubbed your shoulder. “I’m never breaking down a door for you like this again.” 

You did feel a bit like an action hero in the moment, but you regretted it soon after. Even more so when it didn’t even matter in the scheme of things—the source ended up being buried by the locked shed, not in the shed itself. At least you were now last in the rotation of opening suspicious doors. 

“You offered to,” Lockwood defended.  

“Because you said you would handle all the supply calls for the next week,” you said dryly. “And it looks like that may need to happen soon.” You held up your belt—once packed with salt bombs and magnesium flares, you’d emptied it completely trying to save all your lives. It was a sad sight. 

He frowned. “Even the flares?” 

“Even the flares,” you said. 

“I’m all out of them too,” George said. “Surprised we didn’t start a full-on forest fire in the backyard.” 

“I thought those would last longer.” Lockwood’s frown deepened. “They were quite expensive.” 

“At least we got paid a fair bit,” Lucy said. “And we did indeed get away with our lives.” 

“Barely,” George grumbled, kicking off his boots. He tossed his rapier haphazardly to the side, not even bothering to deposit it into your umbrella stand, and dropped his belt on the ground, still boasting a whole two remaining salt bombs. Your lip curled at the trail of chaos. “I’m going to bed. No one bother me for at least fifteen hours.” 

Lucy smiled, shaking her head as he walked off. “Dramatic, but he’s got the right idea. I’ll see you all tomorrow.” 

“See you, Luce,” Lockwood said. 

“I’ll be quiet when I come in,” you assured, and she gave an appreciative nod. Lucy dropped a stack of envelopes on the kitchen table before she went upstairs—it was her job to pick up the mail, and you were honestly surprised she remembered after all this. 

“You’re not mad at me,” Lockwood said, glancing at you as he went over to pick up the mail, “are you?” 

“No,” you sighed, and you flopped onto the couch, “just dramatic. More so than George tonight.” 

He chuckled and leaned against the counter, making deft work of the envelopes as he sorted them into piles. One for the never-ending junkmail that graced your door, and four others for each of you. “Good. I can never handle you being mad at me.” 

A smile tugged at your lips as you stared up at the ceiling. “You’re off the hook this time, so don’t worry.” 

“And I appreciate your mercy immensely,” he said. Another glance over at you. “You look exhausted. Are you sure you don’t want to turn in?”

You shook your head. “Our post-job detox is the most important part of all this. I can hold out for another hour.”

It was hardly a detox, but it had grown to become a necessity for you and Lockwood, sitting together and talking through everything in the wee hours of the night. 

One extremely tough case left you reeling harder than usual—children always got to you, and the girl’s death was particularly grisly—and apparently, Lockwood could tell. 

It took a couple days of gentle prodding, but one night, after being completely out of it in the archives with him that day, you broke—completely. Full on sobbing. Wholly embarrassing to do so in front of your boss, especially when he, George, and Lucy didn’t seem half as affected by it all. 

It turned out he was just better at covering it all up—Lockwood understood it all a lot better than you thought. He just sat with you in the living room and talked with you, talked you through it. There was a lot of crying, a fair bit of permanently swearing off ghost-hunting, and more than a bit of hatred against the entirety of the United Kingdom. 

By the end of it, though, after you’d cried yourself into a headache, gone through a quarter of a box of tissues, and actually worked out your problems with Lockwood’s help, you felt far better. 

Lockwood thereby forbade you from holding in your feelings until they burst, and so it became a routine—it was cheaper than therapy, and most therapists, save for the few former agents working in the field, couldn’t understand it anyways. You usually slumped on the couch, Lockwood usually leaning against the counter. Sometimes with tea, often with tears, always with slightly morbid jokes. 

“How’s your shoulder feeling?” Lockwood asked, snapping you out of your thoughts. 

“It’ll heal,” you said. “It’s mostly just sore. I’ll stay away from my rapier for a few days, sleep on my other side for once, and everything’ll be fine.” 

“Good.” The ruffling of paper stopped for a moment, and his voice was slightly sheepish when he spoke again. “Are you still up for that meeting with the Caldecotts tomorrow, then?” 

You groaned and screwed your eyes shut. “Lockwood, it is three in the bloody morning. You scheduled the Caldecotts for eleven.” 

“I didn’t know that this job would go on for so long!” he defended. “The last few have all wrapped up before midnight. It’s not my fault this Visitor was particularly elusive.” 

“I am drenched in sweat, Lockwood,” you said. “Half of my coat is burnt from plasm and the other half is frozen solid. There is still dirt under my fingernails, my boots are covered in spiderwebs, and I haven’t slept in twenty-three hours. And you want me to be ready to deal with Lorena Caldecott, the most annoying woman I think I have ever met, in eight measly hours?” 

“Yes,” he said brightly. That just got another groan out of you. 

“They made you in a lab, Anthony Lockwood,” you mumbled. “That’s the only explanation for how you’re still going.” 

He chuckled. “Alright, alright. I’ll phone them first thing tomorrow morning—well, later this morning, I suppose—and see if I can push it back another day.” 

“And if not, you’re doing this on your own,” you said, finally opening your eyes again to see him walking over. He handed you your stack of mail—hardly a stack, really, only consisting of four envelopes—and smiled, irritatingly pretty even with smudges of dirt on his face. There was a reason he got away with so much, and that smile was half of it. 

Lockwood said your name cloyingly. “Come on. You know I do interviews best when we’re together. You keep me on track.” 

“I knocked down a door for you, Lockwood!” you proclaimed. “Is that not enough to get me out of this?” 

“I took the supply calls,” he said, “and I’m pushing back the meeting. We’re even now.” 

“Fine,” you said, extremely grudgingly. “But you’re getting them to push it back at least until tomorrow, because once my head hits the pillow, I don’t think I’ll be up for at least twenty-four hours.” 

“Promise,” he said with a nod. 

You sighed, finally righting yourself so you could look at your mail, and glanced up at Lockwood as you picked them up. “You get anything interesting?”

He shook his head. “Unless you consider a letter from Fittes begging me to buy the newest edition of their manual interesting.”

You hummed and looked back down at yours. You slipped your finger under the seal and tore it open, chuckling a bit when you took it out.

“How about you?” Lockwood asked.

“25% off my next Dorothy Perkins purchase,” you said, holding the coupon up. “Very thrilling.”

“Incredibly so,” he nodded. “When’s the last time you even got something from there?” 

You huffed a laugh as you worked open the next envelope. “I bought a dress for my cousin’s graduation last year. Haven’t worn it since.”

“So doubly thrilling,” he said. 

You’d opened your mouth to shoot back, but instead you frowned as you pulled an embossed card out. You skimmed through it quickly enough but got the meaning all the same. 

“Huh,” you said. “My cousin is getting married.” 

Lockwood raised an eyebrow. “Dorothy Perkins cousin?”

You shook your head, still frowning. “No. Maternal aunt’s son. Dorothy Perkins was paternal aunt’s son.”

“Ah,” he said dryly, “how could I have made such a mistake?”

You didn’t even have the energy to retort back as you stared at the letter. “I suppose I’ll need to pull out that dress again. It’s an invite.”

“Congratulations,” Lockwood said. “Are you going to need time off?”

“I don’t even know if I should go,” you mumbled, leaning your head against the side of the couch. 

“Why wouldn’t you go?” he asked with a frown. 

“Because I haven’t seen my family in a while,” you said, “and I haven’t seen this side of the family in an even longer while.” 

Lockwood shrugged. “Then it’ll be a nice reunion.” 

“Lockwood,” you said, “I’ve lied to them.”

“…Okay,” he said slowly. “About what?”

You winced. “They think I have a boyfriend.” 

He still seemed lost. “Strange thing to lie about.”

“You don’t understand.” You sat up, putting the letter to the side. “My family’s from Liverpool, right? We’re all so busy that we never really have time to meet up, but I make it a point to call my mother a few times a month so she knows I’m still alive.” 

Lockwood nodded. “Yeah, I know. You usually call her after every rough case.” 

“Right. Because my mum hates my career,” you said. “I thought she was going to have a heart attack when I told her I’d scored my first job with Tendy’s. I thought she would actually pass away when I told her I quit Tendy’s for you.” You glanced at Lockwood. “She thinks you’re a lunatic, by the way.” 

He shrugged. “Many do.” 

You smiled and shook your head. “She hates that I’m an agent, but so long as I stay alive, she says she can deal with it. But she has a rule on our calls that I can’t talk about our jobs—says they give her nightmares. So instead, she talks about every facet of my personal life.” 

Lockwood’s eyes finally flashed with understanding and he nodded. “Hence the boyfriend lie?” 

“Hence the boyfriend lie,” you echoed. “She will not stop bothering me about it—apparently the dating life of her daughter is more important than anything else. So on our last call, I just lied and told her I had one to get her off of my back.”

Lockwood actually had the nerve to laugh. “And how did that work out for you?”

“It worked fine,” you said, “and it was going to continue to be fine. But then Will had to go out and get engaged, the dolt.”

“So just go on your own,” he suggested. 

“I can’t show up alone,” you grumbled. “Not only would it be completely embarrassing, but the questions would start up all over again.” 

“Then don’t go.” 

“I can’t not go!” you exclaimed. “Will’s a lovely cousin.” 

“You just called him a dolt,” Lockwood said. 

“I call you a dolt all the time,” you said. “Doesn’t mean I don’t like you.” 

Lockwood chuckled and shook his head, and that was when an idea came to you. There was a slight furrow in his brow when he glanced back at you. 

“I don’t like that look.” 

“Come to the wedding with me,” you said suddenly. 

Lockwood’s expression sobered even further. “You can’t be serious.” 

“It’s the perfect solution!” you exclaimed, moving to the edge of the couch as you clasped your hands together. 

“You want me to be your pretend boyfriend,” he deadpanned. When you nodded, he shook his head in disbelief. “You’ve got to be joking.”

“Why would I be joking?” you asked. “You’re quite possibly the best candidate for it all. We’re best friends, we know each other well— God, I’ve talked about you enough in general to my mum that she won’t even be surprised that it ended up being you.” 

Lockwood’s eyebrows rose. “Won’t they look down on you dating your boss?” 

“You’re hardly my boss,” you said. 

“I pay your salary,” he said. “You live in my house. My name is on the door.” 

“I don’t see how that’s relevant,” you said. “Besides, you owe me after tonight!” 

He frowned. “We just agreed that we were even.” 

“Well, I lied,” you said. “My shoulder is in excruciating pain from knocking that door down, and the only way for it to heal is for you to pretend to be my boyfriend.” 

He gave you a wry look and said your name. “Come on. This is an awful idea.” 

“It’s a brilliant idea,” you said. “You get a chance to dress up and charm an entire family—you live for that sort of stuff, Lockwood. I finally get my family off my back with some actual proof and I actually get a break for once.” 

You saw the uncertainty on his face and you huffed. “Don’t give me that look. This is the exact sort of plan you’d come up with and try to force on me if it meant we’d get a hand up.” 

“I know,” he said grudgingly, “that’s why I don’t like it. It’s dangerous when you start learning my tricks.” 

“Please, Lockwood,” you begged. “I’ll do all your chores for the rest of the month. I’ll shake Lorena Caldecott’s hand with a smile on my face.”

“That is tempting,” he said wryly. “I can never fold my dress shirts the way you do.”

“Wrinkle-free dress shirts,” you said with a gesture. “And— and, I will cash in my favor with Arif. Discounted doughnuts for the next three months.”

Lockwood’s eyes widened. “You’ve got favors with Arif?”

You shrugged. “I helped him out a couple times with ghost things.”

He huffed a laugh and shook his head. “You really are something.”

“Discounted doughnuts, Lockwood,” you continued. “Discounted doughnuts and wrinkle-free shirts and my best behavior for the Caldecotts, no matter how sleep-deprived I am.”

“…This really means a lot to you,” Lockwood said after a moment, “doesn’t it.”

You nodded. “My family— my mum—will never lay off if I show up alone. If you’re on my arm, you talk a bit about yourself and compliment me a few times and charm them with literal ghost stories, then I’m off the hook for good.”

Lockwood pursed his lips, his arms folded across his chest as he thought it through. 

“Please,” you said. “It’ll just be one night.”

After another moment, he let out a sigh almost as dramatic as your earlier ones, but his lips quirked up at the corners.

“Fine,” Lockwood said. “I’ll go with you.” 

Your eyes widened. “You will?” 

“Yes,” he said with a laugh. “It— it’ll be fine—you’re right. We’ve been living together for the past year and a half—we know each other well enough to sell it. And with half the agency going out for it, I can write off any hotels or dinners as business expenses.” 

That got a laugh out of you too, and you shook your head. “You are my savior, Lockwood. Truly.” 

“Just means we’re back in your court on favors,” he joked. “And you know what? I think this could actually be fun.” 

“Really?” 

“Really,” he nodded. “Besides,” Lockwood smiled wryly at you as he stood up from his spot against the counter, “what’s a bit of fake dating between colleagues anyway?”

You huffed a laugh and finally managed to pull yourself back up into a sitting position. You cracked your neck and rubbed your shoulder, grimacing a bit at the soreness but thankful that it wasn’t worse. “Can we work out the rest of the details later? I’m exhausted, and I know you’ve got to be running on fumes.” 

His smile softened and he nodded. “I’ll see you tomorrow. Later today, I suppose.” He frowned as he looked at the clock. “God. It really is late.” 

You hummed in agreement as you unlaced your boots, trying your best to avoid the spiderwebs when you took them off. That was your number one question about the Problem—why the hell did spiders have to gravitate towards ghosts? 

“Get some sleep, Lockwood,” you said, setting your boots with everyone else’s shoes. That mess was an issue for another day. “You’ve got to be refreshed—those supply calls aren’t going to make themselves.” 

Lockwood rolled his eyes, but he couldn’t completely bite back his smile. “Best behavior for the Caldecotts, love.” 

“And nothing less!” you exclaimed without turning around, pointing in the air as you continued up the stairs. You heard Lockwood laugh behind you, and the sound brought out a smile of your own. 

It was now nearly four in the bloody morning. Your shoulder still ached, your coat was beyond repair, and you would have to scrub beneath your nails for at least ten minutes before you settled in tonight. But somehow, Lockwood still had you smiling and feeling better about the whole experience. 

For god’s sake, you fought ghosts on a daily basis. You’d been training with a rapier since the tender age of eight. Your skills rivaled some of Fittes’ and Rotwell’s best—who cared what your family had to say about you? 

You were right. This wedding would be a piece of cake with Anthony Lockwood by your side.

[highonmarvel]

Hi there! May i please request a mob!steve x reader where the reader used to be with him but when she found about his mob life she left him so like the HR he decided to ruin her life and one day he just shows up in her now downgraded apartment and manipulates and gaslights her into coming back to him, and she just goes back because she’s just in a vulnerable place

Feel free to add your own spin to it btw love your work soo much! Especially the biker!bucky 🤗

oh, i like this! and thank you so much for the love! i hope you enjoy. and i apologise for taking over a month to get back to you, shit’s been wild for me. okay, here we go:

Easy Luxury

Steve Rogers: You find out how your suspiciously wealthy boyfriend makes his money, and have to start over without it.

content warnings here!

It was never manipulation, it was a deep understanding that enabled him to know what you needed before you even opened your mouth, a symptom of being the blond-haired, blue-eyed boy next door type. Naturally, he knows what’s best for you, you’d never have to question him. And you didn’t.

Steve was suspiciously wealthy for such a humble and down-to-Earth guy, but you didn’t question it; his expensive car, his shiny watch, his high rise penthouse, his seemingly endless cash, you didn’t read too much into it, you just enjoyed his presence, and his luxury didn’t hurt either; anything you wanted, and things you didn’t, Steve gave to you, and you accepted gratefully. He even insisted you live closer to him until he didn’t have so many people coming in and out of his apartment for something he never quite explained, and then you could move in with him. You live in a nice ass building a block down from him, making for easy visits, curtesy Steve.

You sigh as you place your bag down in the lift on the way up to the top floor, excited to surprise Steve. You had head to see your parents for what was supposed to be two weeks, but after just one you’d had enough, and you missed Steve.

You excitedly bounce on your toes as you pick your bag up again, the elevator numbers just a few ticks from the top. With a wide grin, you stare straight ahead as the the doors open, and that smile immediately drops.

Right in the middle of your living room, Steve is ripping the teeth out of a guy tied to a chair. Even the back of his shirt is bloodied, and there’s so much blood on the floor you have to assume there have been many other people in this man’s position in the time you’ve been away.

“You fucking rat,” he grunts as he pries the man’s mouth open again and sticks an adjustable wrench into the back of his cheek. It clasps onto one of his wisdom teeth and Steve pries it out, and you can tell he’s satisfied despite his back facing you. The man lets out a bloodcurdling scream and Steve tosses the tooth onto a pile of at least five others.

“Workin’ for the Starks, huh?”

The Starks are a well known mob family in New York, and if they’re Steve’s rivals then…

You gasp out loud.

Steve whips around, and his face, though covered almost entirely in crimson, goes pale.

“Baby! You’re back early.”

You finger flies to the close button for the doors, pressing furiously as if that’s gonna make it happen faster. Steve races towards you, calling your name as you anxiously push the button at lightning speed. At the very last split second, just before Steve can stick his hand between the doors, they shut, and the lift begins to descend. You hear Steve’s frustrated “Fuck!” and banging above you as your stomach sinks with the elevator.

Fuck, fuck, fuck, what can you do? Steve had convinced you to quit your job, you pretty much lived exclusively off of him, but you can’t possibly stay with him, yet you’re rendering yourself homeless if you leave.

Once you get to the ground floor, you race out the door, leaving your bag behind and ignoring a concerned look from the doorman as you dart out. You phone buzzes in your pocket, and you know it’s Steve. You ignore the vibrating phone call and run towards your apartment. You’re sure you have some money cobbled together from Christmas cards over the years. No way in hell you can pack your things, and you know you’ll have to get rid of your phone, but you need at least a little bit of cash.

You’re sure you’re on the verge of dying from a lack of oxygen as you make it to your apartment and slam the door behind you, locking it, too, though you doubt that’ll keep him out.

You’re furiously rummaging through drawers when a gentle rap at the door makes your soul damn near leap out of your body.

“Honey?” Steve calls, voice calm as ever, as if he didn’t just commit such unspeakable violence, and who knows what fucking else he’s done that you’ve never seen? And how did he get here so quick? Is he still covered in blood and spit and flesh and evidence from his torture?

You try to tune him out as you look for the last of the envelopes to add to your small pile, but you can’t ignore his gentle voice trying to coax you into a state of relaxation he would soothe you into when your anxiety became too much to bare.

“Sweetheart, let’s talk about this.”

“Go away!” you manage to shriek through hyperventilation.

“Don’t do something stupid,” he warns, voice low in a way you’ve never heard him use before, and if you were terrified before, you were on the verge of a heart attack now.

With a few envelopes and no way to escape, you run to the window and peer down; you’re three floors up with some soft patches of grass beneath you. You don’t have time to even calculate it, surely adrenaline will get you through the pain if you’re severely hurt. You’re working up the nerve, and just as Steve busts the door in, yelling your name, you jump, luckily landing on your feet, but falling soon after, and briefly wondering if you’ve dislocated your knee as you scramble to stand and start running.

Steve shouts your name from the window but you don’t even look back, just running to God knows where. You’re sure you’ve run full speed for more than half an hour when, by such luck, you stumble across a really cheap looking motel. Just as you throw some cash to the guy to give you a key, you feel around in your pockets for your phone, panicked, and for the first time in your life, you’re glad to have lost it. He can’t find you now, at least not by tracking, you hope. Though you might have expected to be plagued by insomnia due to your stress, you pass right the fuck out as soon as your head touches the crusty pillow on the room’s stained mattress.

***

The sun isn’t out when you snap your eyes open, it couldn’t have been more than six hours since you ran away, then, but there’s no sign of Steve, and you let out the biggest breath of relief there ever could be. You head to the bathroom to shower and think of your next move, but it’s so filthy you wonder if you’re only making yourself dirtier by stepping in. You’re sweaty, and your body is physically tired from the sprinting. You flop onto the floor as you try to consider your next move. You’ve got an old friend living in Queens! You haven’t spoken to her in years, literally since high school, but since then she had practically been living on her own and raising herself and her sister, you can’t imagine she’s moved since then.

You have to walk a ways before you manage to get to an area you can hail a cab, and that takes a little more effort than you would have liked to exert. By some grace you manage to remember the address, and as you pull up, the house looks pretty much the same as all those years ago, giving you a glimmer of hope.

You drag yourself to the front door and manage to knock despite your weak body.

The door opens after a few moments to reveal the red hair you haven’t seen in forever, yet still, she looks virtually the same.

“Natasha!” you say as you collapse into her arms.

“Oh my God!” she cries, but she catches you with ease, “What are you doing here? What happened?”

You can barely speak, but she seems to somewhat understand as she leads to you to her living room and gently sets you down on the couch. Her blonde sister comes running into the room, eyes wide and panicked.

“Yelena!” Natasha calls, and hurriedly says words in Russian you could never understand. Yelena leaves and returns with a cup of water, which you gratefully accept, not realising just how thirsty you actually were. You gulp down the water like a dying fish and Yelena immediately leaves to get you another.

Sitting down and not on the verge of dehydration, you can speak, but your voice is still hoarse.

“I’m sorry for dropping in like this—”

“Don’t ever apologise for coming to me,” she cuts you off sternly, nearly angrily, like she’s irritated you thought you could ever bother her. She was this way in high school, but still, you haven’t spoken in years and years, and you feel bad for that. You know she can help you, or she’ll try to do everything in her power to do so, but you can’t let her get involved in mob business… like you were, unknowingly.

“I’m just in a rough spot,” you say, nodding thanks to Yelena as you take the second cup of water and down it even quicker than you did the first one. She sits down next to you, concerned, as Natasha is seated across from you on the opposite couch, leaning forward, forearms on her thighs as she listens attentively, “Don’t have a job or a place, or anyone else I can go to. I’ve got a bit of money, can you help me find a cheap place?”

“Just stay with us,” Yelena says, sitting up straight.

“Yeah,” Natasha agrees, “It’s clear there’s a lot going on, please, don’t be alone right now. You can stay here, I can help you get a job.”

Even after all this time, she treats you so beautifully, but you can’t let her get wrapped up in this; if Steve finds you, he might hurt Nat and Yelena, and you’d never be able to live with that (and maybe you won’t have to if he kills you too).

“No!” you say, a little louder than needed, causing the pair to give you strange looks, “Please,” you say, speaking softer now, “If you want to help me, can I just use your shower and you help me get a place? I know you know a lot of people.”

You can tell she wants to protest, but Nat only presses her lips into a thin line and exhales through her nostrils, nodding before standing up.

“Okay,” she concedes, “Yelena will get you some fresh clothes and I’ll make some calls.”

“Thank you,” you say, with more sincerity than you ever have in your life. Yelena helps you up, and you want to protest, but realise you’re a lot weaker than you thought, and you can’t tell if it’s mental or physical exhaustion.

You have to sit down in the shower, rinsing the stickiness off of you and watching it float in the few centimetres of water before being whisked down the drain.

You’re steadier on your feet once you’re clean and dressed, and you pop into the kitchen just as Nat hangs up her phone.

“Okay, I’ve got somewhere $95 a month, but it’s not great.”

You shake your head, “It’s perfect, thank you.” You counted around $650 in your cash, but if you get a job you can make it work.

“But you’re not leaving before you eat.”

Eating breakfast with Nat and Yelena takes the weight of the world off your shoulders, the three of you laughing about events from a decade ago with the same vigour you did when they first happened. But you can’t shake the feeling you have to leave, quick.

You’re nearly done helping the pair clean up when Nat comes up to you.

“Hey, what’s your number? We should stay in touch, even if just for a few months, just so I know you’re okay.”

“I lost my phone,” you sigh.

“I’m drop in every once in a while then, okay? And you can’t fight me on this. I’m honestly really worried about you,” she throws her dish rag over a chair and walks up to you, holding your shoulders as she looks into your eyes, “But I’m so glad you came. I’m always here for you. So is Yelena.”

You look to the doorway Yelena’s leaning against and she gives you a smile, but it’s a little sad.

“Thank you, Nat. I love you, so much. And I’m sorry it’s been so long.”

“These things happen, it’s fine. I’m just glad you’re in one piece. Looks like you had a hell of a night.”

You laugh shakily and nod, “I did. I’m surprised I didn’t dislocate a knee.”

“Oh my God… okay, conversation for another time, let’s just get you into your place. Do you have anything we need to take?”

You literally have no earthly possession with you at this point besides the envelopes, which you tuck into the inner pockets of Nat’s biker jacket she’s lending you. You refused to take any clothes other than one other pair of pants and a t-shirt, but Yelena promised she’d wash your others and bring them back, though you’re not even sure you want them anymore.

“I’ll be back with them tomorrow,” she says as she closes the door, leaving you alone in a flat you’re sure has mould.

There’s only a couch, a mattress, and a clock you’re not sure if displays the correct time, which is more than you were expecting. You flop down onto the slightly dirty couch and run your hands over your face. Now fed, hydrated, and somewhat rested, you can’t think of anything else to distract you from thoughts of Steve…

Okay, you’ll try to find a job tomorrow, for today, there’s nothing more you can do but try to sleep, even though it’s not even midday yet.

***

As promised, Yelena drops off your clothes the next morning, with the tears poorly sewn up, but you thank her for the effort and encourage her to leave the building before you do, in case Steve is watching, but you don’t cite that reason.

Half an hour later, you stride out, taking a walk down the dodgy streets, and luckily, you come across a bakery with an “URGENTLY HIRING” sign in the window. Your little streaks of luck would mean much more if it wasn’t overshadowed by everything else, and your luck ends when you’re half way into the interview.

“What?!” you gasp, trying to lean over to get a better look at the computer screen the interviewer (who’s just some teenager, probably a temp) is trying to shield from you.

“Ma’am, you have a charge for robbery, we can’t hire you.”

You exit in a daze, nearly numb at the realisation Steve would go this far. Why not just kill you? If he was worried you’d go to the police (the thought had never even crossed your mind until this moment), he’d just fucking kill you, or kidnap and torture you, he wouldn’t just leave you to rot out in the real world, that’s too risky.

You sadly make your way back to your flat, and who’s there when you open the door?

Steve stands with a crisp blue shirt in the centre of the room, and what can you do about it.

You fall to your knees and sob, face in your hands as you try to take in your fate. What did he want with you? You want to say you swear you’ll never tell anyone, that you haven’t told anyone, but you can’t speak through your gasping sobs.

“Hey, hey, hey,” he coos, slowly making his way over to you, like he’s worried he’ll scare you off, “It’s okay, don’t worry, I’d never hurt you, baby, you weren’t supposed to see that, I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean to scare you, I didn’t want to hurt you, ever, but I have.”

He sighs, and you manage to look back up at him, a somber coat over his blue eyes.

“And look at you,” he gently raises your arm to trace a finger over scrapes and scratches you guess are from darting through narrow alleyways and through thick bushes, “Baby, and look at his,” he gestures around him to the damp flat, and you sniffle, “You can’t stay here, come back, I’ll take care of you, like I always have.”

“Th- the arrest—”

“I had to do that, baby, I’m sorry. I just had to. If you were with me that never would have happened, see? And it can all go away. Honey, I’m offering you the world, all you have to do is come with me.”

With teary eyes you look around. You can’t live here too long or you’ll get some kind of mould poisoning, you can’t get a job, you can’t endanger Nat and Yelena…

“Okay,” you sigh, defeated, and just as Steve starts to smile, there’s a knock at the door. Natasha calls your name and you tense up, Steve looks down at you with his head cocked to the side.

“I think you better answer that, sweetheart. Tell her you’re not gonna be here anymore.”

He pulls you to your feet and you gulp as you lean your head against the door.

“Yeah?” you answer.

“Let me in.”

If Steve sees Nat, he’ll know who to look for if you try anything like this again. But he’s sitting patiently on the couch, and he nods towards the door, beckoning you to open it. You take a deep breath and crack it open a bit.

“Hey, what’s up?” you think you say, but you can barely hear your words over the pounding of your heart.

“Is everything okay?” she asks, and you shoot a glance behind you, which you immediately regret when Nat bounces on her toes to get a look.

“Yeah,” you block her vision and bring her attention back to you, still trying to keep the door as close to closed as possible, “I… I have to go…”

“What?” she asks, “You just got here, what’s changed?”

“Things have worked out, it’s all good now, don’t worry—”

You freeze as you feel Steve behind you, his tall frame casting a shadow over you and Nat. You shut your eyes, willing this to be a trick of light or a hallucination due to stress, it can be anything but real.

“Hi. Steve Rogers,” he extends his hand, and Nat tentatively takes it, in only a way you know — to everyone else, she wouldn’t seem cautious, but you saw the clench in her right knee that gives away her switch to defence.

“Natasha Romanoff.”

Fuck, Nat, why did you say your name!?

“Nice to meet you. Don’t worry about her, she’s in good hands with me.”

She nods.

“Steve, could you go get my clothes for me? I think they’re in the bathroom or the bedroom, they’re the only two other rooms.”

He nods and turns away. Once he’s out of sight, Nat’s expression turns panicked as she scans your face, noticing tears welling. She doesn’t say it, but you can tell she’s pleading “Come with me.” You shake your head and quickly wipe away the tears before they fall, just as you hear Steve’s approaching footsteps again.

You shut the door just as he exits the bedroom with your neatly folded clothes from your recent run.

“Natasha washed these, I assume? Or was it Yelena?”

⍟

[taglist; @cjand10]

[redvexillum]

A/N: I didn't anticipate writing a Vox x Reader story (much less a raunchy, BDSM theme smut). But, I needed to get this idea out of my head so I can focus on my request and my other stories. So, here we are. Also, I've noticed there is a distressingly low number of PURE Vox x Reader stories, so I wanted to contribute to the database.

Though, I apologize if my version of Vox is lacking in any way. I have made many creative liberties with my head canon version of him.

Inspired by this post/conversation with the lovely miss @redfoxwritesstuff

07.09.24 - Now that I know where I'm going with this story, I have changed the title from [Short Fuse] to Signal.

SUMMARY: You royally pissed someone off because you were receiving anonymous hate emails for the past fifteen years. How incredibly petty and...entertaining. At first, you decided to ignore them but as their hate comments got increasingly creative, the more you couldn't help but add oil to the burning, passionate flame of their hatred towards you.

Until one day, the mysterious anonymous hater (probably) accidentally revealed themselves to be the one and only TV demon, an Overlord and CEO of everything technological and modern.

WARNING/TAGS: f!reader, toxic relationship, enemies to f*ck buddies to something indescribable, dom/sub undertone, sub!Vox, dom!reader, reader is a responsible dom, Vox takes a lot of L's but he secretly enjoys it, dual POV, Vox tries to be hip but ends up being a boomer, Reader is sexually liberal and confident, Vox is the brattiest sub you will ever find, kind of fluff if your squint

“Hello, my Sexy Peeps! How are you doing on this hellish day?” A melodious burst of laughter chimed from Vox’s phone. He took a dramatic sip from his coffee, savouring the rich, dark brew, and settled into his plush armchair, preparing to lose himself in her latest video.  

“Today, I thought I’d mix things up a bit due to a very popular request!” She continued and leaned forward in front of the camera, giving Vox a generous view of her cleavage. He approved her outfit choice for today, a tight-fitting cyan blue tank top with a plunging v-neckline.  

But aside from her attire, he was interested by her supposedly “new” content. He didn’t know she took requests from her viewers. Intrigued, he arched an eyebrow, setting his cup down on the side table and leaning his face closer to his phone.  

The newest online sensation on VoxTube was about to begin. This girl had seemingly materialized out of nowhere, drawing tens of thousands of views and subscribers to her channel. Her retention rates were astoundingly high for content so banal and ordinary. Initially, Vox had suspected his network had been hacked.  

He still couldn’t quite grasp how in seven layers of Hell she had managed to manipulate the algorithm with her simple videos. All she did was try the newest foods around the Pentagram and review random merchandise in a phenomenon called “unboxing.” 

His gaze inevitably wandered to the deep trench of cleavage she prominently displayed. He scoffed. He’d seen better. After all, his partner controlled the porn industry in Hell.  

Yet, that didn’t stop him from pausing her video sometimes, openly staring at her chest for a few seconds… or minutes…or maybe he may have saved a couple (several) screenshots of her video and her photos from her Sinstagram account. Perhaps he might have even saved some of her more salacious-looking photos on his internal hard drive for private viewing. 

All for research, of course.  

“Now, I know there’s this series – the longest-running series in all of Hell…” she trailed off, her plump, pretty lips curling into a mischievous smirk.  

Vox straightened in his chair, feeling the first flutter of excitement in his chest. Could it be? Was she going to mention his most prized project, “Yeah, I Fucked Your Sister, So What?!” for free?  

Excitement surged within him, a giddy thrill that this lame, greenhorn, no-name nobody was about to mention his series to her 2.5 million (and growing) viewers.  

“Guys, guys, guys,” she laughed, raising her perfectly manicured hands in the air as if in surrender. “I watched the first season and wow–” 

Vox pressed his thighs together, waiting with bated breath for what he hoped would be a glowing review. Perhaps he should contact her, reach out, sponsor her like all the tiny, insignificant, worthless, businesses were doing.  

“I gotta tell you,” She shrugged, raised her immaculate trimmed brow, and with a hearty guffaw, said, “it’s pretty mid.” 

Disbelief washed over him as he stared at the screen. Instinctively, Vox paused the video, staring at the freeze-frame image of her with a large smile dancing across her lips.  

Mid? Mid? What the fuck did mid even mean? 

Scrutinizing the word in his mind, he thought maybe she had given his series an average score. Average. He could work with average. But judging from the comments filled with those annoying crying laughing emojis and agreement that it was bad, he realized it was another piece of slang from this decade that he somehow missed.  

Power surged through his head as his mind dove into the database, and he opened his trusty Urban Hell Dictionary. 

The definition of Mid was… 

Below average. 

Not good. 

Mediocre.  

Boring.  

“WHHHHAT?” He roared, his voice glitching in between the long-drawn-out word. Springing up from his chair, he picked up his mug before hurling it against the polished floor. It shattered into a cascade of jagged pieces, their sharp lines reminiscent of crooked, mocking smiles. The hot coffee splashed onto the hem of his pants, its sudden heat mirroring the fury rising within him.  

Memories surged through him, back to when he was alive, back when they cancelled him for not being innovative enough, for not being entertaining enough, for being… 

Being…. 

Boring.  

His eyes twitched, electricity crackled and jolted up in arcs across the surface of his head before fizzling out at the points of the antennas from his hat.  

He should kill her. Get Val to make her disappear or force her into working at his porn studio. How dare she call the fruits of his labour…b-bo-… He seethed, unable to even say the damn, blasted word.  

Vox thought of a thousand ways to torment her, relishing the idea of making her cry with her below-average, not good, mediocre, BORING looking face. Anger surged, boiled, in his veins, and he did what he knew was the best course of action when faced with this unprecedented insult.  

After all, with VoxTek, he had an image to keep of being on the side of the lowly Sinners. He chuckled, forced, but chuckled, nonetheless. It would smear his good image to go after some small, nobody of a Sinner. After all, he was an Overlord and the CEO of the largest corporation in all the five fucking points of the Pentagram.  

She was going to get so cancelled.  

That he would make sure of.  

Humming a random, jaunty little tune, you shut off the ring light and closed your laptop. Stretching your back, you sighed in satisfaction as your bones gave a gratifying crack. You giggled at some comments from your review of the popular series, “Yeah, I Fucked Your Sister, So What?!”  

There were passionate defences claiming the series was a work of art, which was far-reaching at best. It was mildly entertaining enough to watch while you painted your nails. Seriously, the show looked like it was produced for the audience in the 1950s.  

You were the first influencer to give a poor rating to the TV series, and being first meant more controversy, more views, and more money from sponsorships as you rose to the trending list once again.  

Damn, gaming the system was the best. Truly, Hell was way behind its time compared to what people did for views back when you were alive.  

Following your routine, you washed away the makeup, changed from your tight-fitting clothes into a loose T-shirt and sweatpants, and laid on your king-sized bed that was far too big for one person. Staring up at the ceiling, you were surrounded by the void of your loneliness.  

You should…go out and fuck someone.  

Preferably, someone related to the entertainment industry. All that juicy gossip about your newest fling always raked in views and clicks.  

But the idea fizzled and died as you thought about having to play the submissive role, feeding their giant egos to compensate for their shit-sized cocks. You considered visiting the BDSM club, but influential people were rarely found out in the open in those shops. There was probably a private club that you weren’t invited to…yet.  

Vain.

Empty.

Nothing.  

It didn’t change much, did it? Whether you were alive or damned.  

Everything about your life was the same.  

Sitting up, you grabbed your phone and started to scroll through Voxazon, frivolously spending thousands of Hell bucks on useless crap.  

Retail therapy.  

The tried-and-true method to stave off depression and apathy.  

You were ready for that dopamine hit as you read through the reviews of the latest dildo models, your lips pulling into a sly smirk at all the new features of VoxTek’s newest sex toy.  

A chime resounded from your phone – a notification from your personal email. Your brows raised as the sender was from anonymous666@hellmail.com 

Confused, you opened the email, wincing at the possibility of infecting your device with a virus. But that thought quickly vanished as you read the email’s content.  

Subject: (no subject)  Dear Bitch,   Retract that fucking review about “Yeah, I Fucked Your Sister, So What?!” from your video today, or you will regret it.   Furthermore, you have a “mid” face, and so are your boobs. Your boobs are super fucking mid. You probably get MORE views if you actually covered your boobs because that’s how MID they are.   And all your videos are MID. Especially the one you posted on July 7, 20XX, where you reviewed the Hellover drink. The one where you wore that shitty neon green tank top, which, by the way, is also fucking MID.   Anyway, this is my FIRST and LAST warning.   Fuck you.   P.S. Seriously. Fuck you.

Your eyes slowly blinked, once, twice, before a hearty, genuine laugh erupted from you. Oh my God. Did this prick actually hack your account to get your personal email to send such a shitty, lame-ass message? 

Breaths coming out in short, uneven huffs, you rolled over on your bed from side to side, clutching your stomach. Tears formed in the corners of your eyes from laughing so hard. You hadn’t laughed this genuinely since you fell to Hell.  

As your eyes traced over the words of their message, you laughed out loud again. It looked like you had a butt-hurt superfan.  

Humming, you rolled over onto your stomach and kicked your feet idly as you stared at the message. “Thanks for the laugh, virgin prick,” you whispered, planting a loud smooch on your cellphone screen. “Annnnd, delete!” Your index finger daintily tapped the trash can icon.  

Now, back to the task at hand. You debated between getting the glittery pink dildo or the two prong dildo. Tilting your head, you decided you deserved a treat, so you ordered both. 

As you were purchasing more random crap, your eyes glazed over, your mind fervently thinking of what to say for your next season review for that TV series. Just then, an annoying ad popped up – of course, from VoxTek – promoting their shitty Cobra vibrator. Seriously, you tried it, and it did nothing for you.  

An idea rapidly formed, growing until you jumped out of bed and ran to your laptop. No one had truly (and honestly) reviewed some of VoxTek’s terrible sex toys yet. In fact, you noticed that every single review for their sex toy line had glowing five-star ratings.  

Now, some of their toys were outstanding, making you come so hard until you were sobbing, soaking your underwear from your release. But that was one out of every five toys you purchased. Like all massive corporations, VoxTek was clearly buying reviews, giving themselves perfect scores.  

Perhaps it was time to change that. 

Your review of the series and the anonymous hate message were soon quickly forgotten. This was your chance to shake things up, to give the unfiltered, raw truth that your viewers craved.  

With a determined glint in your eyes, you started drafting your next video script. This was going to be huge, bigger than Jerry’s dick from last week, that was for sure.  

NEXT ->

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