#filling the rack is literally your only job

[sealab420]

please god let me be an opener again i’m sooooo so good at it & no closers will ever have to come in to an empty rack ever again

[everyonewooeverywhere]

NSFW BLOG | MINORS AND AGELESS BLOGS WILL BE BLOCKED

chapter 1 : oh shit. a cowboy.

summary: when you come into his shop to get your boyfriend's car fixed, yunho can help but wonder what a hardworking, pretty girl like you is doing with someone so...pathetic. and maybe, just maybe, he feels like he could treat you better.

pairing: cowboy mechanic!yunho x female!reader

genre: non-idol au | strangers to lovers | angst | fluff (no smut yet, but there will be eventually)

rating: 18+ (for the whole series bc there will be smut eventually)

word count: 4.9k

content/warnings: pet names (sweetheart, doll), strangers to lovers, toxic relationship, yeonjun slander 😗 (sry baby), yj and reader get into a pretty big fight

notes: literally thank you so much to @ateez-main-yapper for helping me write this! like this would not exist without her letting me yap in her dms. or letting her help build the story up. or asking her to help edit. this was a two woman job 🙂‍↕️ so thank you baby 💗

ALSO there have been a couple changes and edits from the teaser, so not everything of the first 1k words is the same ☺️

and YES there will be a part 2 (& 3 💀) so PLEASE don't ask for it 😭 she will come when she's ready

Where the fuck was this place? You took another turn down another shaded alley, the sky strangely overcast for two in the afternoon.

The tapping of your fingers on the steering wheel was the only music since the stereo had broken months ago when Yeonjun slammed his fist against it in a fit of rage when you asked him to skip his gig this weekend to attend your sister’s wedding. Now it just blinked periodically when the car hit a bump, giving it miniscule signs of life. And for a man who focused his whole life around his music, he seemed uncharacteristically uninterested in getting it repaired. And maybe it would never get fixed because you could only afford to get the big issues fixed today.

After six wrong turns you finally pulled into the parking lot. Your friend had recommended this garage when you’d told her this car had been having all sorts of issues, and she insisted on here. You had your doubts when she pulled up the Instagram of one of the mechanics to show you the shop and ended up going on about how hot he was for several minutes, but you didn’t really have any other options.

It looked official enough. The brick building was large enough to house two large garage doors that opened up the shop to the dusty parking lot. Peering inside, you could see that there weren't many people inside the garage. There were only two mechanics in your line of sight, the closer of the two venturing back and forth between his toolbox and the taillights of an old Chevy, and you were their only customer as far as you could tell. You shrugged, Maybe they’re understaffed. 

You shrugged before swinging the car door open and grabbing your purse out of the passenger’s seat, brushing off your pants before you made your way in. There wasn’t a front desk or a receptionist to talk to, and you got the feeling that this shop was solely run and staffed by the men inside. 

You spent several moments hovering by one of the garage doors, shuffling your feet and trying to catch the eye of one of the mechanics, but neither of them looked up. Entirely too absorbed in their work to notice your presence. They must not get very busy. 

“Um…hello?” You spoke, trying not to startle either of them. 

They both turned to you, and the man who’d been fixing up the Chevy opened his mouth to speak. But he was cut off by his coworker, who jogged over from where he'd been partially hidden from view behind a rack of miscellaneous parts, putting a hand on his friend’s shoulder and muttering a quick, “I’ve got her, Min.” 

“Min” chuckled and rolled his eyes, returning to his work.

Oh god. 

“Hey Doll, what can I do for ya?” Something about the way he sauntered up to you and smiled so gently immediately filled your stomach with butterflies, but you chose to ignore them for the sake of your own sanity.

Doll. That was a new one, and you felt that anyone else uttering that word toward you would’ve disgusted you to your core. But something about this stranger was strangely comforting. Maybe it was the way he tilted his head as he waited for you to speak. Maybe it was the baseball cap strewn backward on his head. Or maybe it was the strands of his taupe hair that fell in front of his face, strands you imagined yourself brushing up under his hat.

Your fingers fidgeted with the strap of your purse, “I’m, uh, having some car issues.”

The laugh he let out, and the curve of his lips that accompanied it, made the tips of your ears burn, “‘Course you are, sweetheart. Anything in particular, though?”

“Oh,” you chuckled softly along with him, “Well, he mentioned that the acceleration’s been kinda weird, and I thought the engine was a little loud when I drove it here today. Sorry, I don’t really know a ton about cars.”

He hummed and tapped his foot a couple of times, “Which one is it?” 

You pointed across the lot. 

“Alright, let me pull it into the garage,” he put his hand out in your direction. 

You stared at it, confused, and when you looked back up at his face he was smiling at you again. Stupid smile. He made your heart flutter more than you would’ve liked to admit.

“Keys, sweetheart. Your keys.”

“Oh,” you scrambled around in your purse before handing them over, embarrassed. 

He took them from you with a 'thanks doll' and a tip of his head, hand hovering over his forehead in a way that made you think he was used to wearing hats much bigger than this simple baseball cap. Before you could even question it further he was jogging across the lot and pulling the car through the big garage doors. 

When he stepped out of the car he looked at you curiously, “This your car?”

You shook your head, “No it’s my boyfriend’s. He’s been…busy…lately, so he hasn’t been able to bring it in. He keeps complaining about it, though, so I just decided to do it for him, I guess.”

He raised his eyebrow at you, nodding slowly. 

“What?” you asked, moderately offended.

He shook his head, waving a dismissive hand, “Nothing. Sorry. You just seemed a little unsure is all.”

“Yeah…I don’t know. I honestly think he just kept complaining so I would get tired of his whining and go on and get it fixed myself,” You chuckled awkwardly. Why the fuck were you telling him this? You started to feel a little embarrassed.

And that feeling only got worse when you saw the mildly horrified look on his face. 

You shook your head and ran a frustrated hand through your hair, “Can you just fix it?”

That pretty fucking smile came back, and your grip on your hair tightened just a little in frustration. “Of course I can. Glad you brought this in when you did, honestly. Seems like your boy toy’s got a bit of an exhaust leak. Could be pretty dangerous, so it's good to get it off the road.”

“Ah, perfect.” You shifted on your feet, “How long will it take, do you think?”

He lifted his hat and ruffled his messy hair before readjusting it on his head. Why did every little movement he made drive you crazy? “Unfortunately, issues like this take a couple days. I doubt I could get her done any sooner than tomorrow.”

You nodded, “Okay. I’ll try and get a ride home then.”

“Alright, Doll. Let me write down your number real quick so I–so we can call ya when she’s ready.”

You wrote down your name and number for him on a pink sticky note that he stuck to the dash. 

“Perfect!” He smiled at you, “We’ll call ya tomorrow.”

You couldn’t help but smile back, “Awesome! Thank you…Oh. I’m sorry, what was your name again?”

“Yunho. My name is Yunho, sweetheart. It’s nice to meet you.” He stuck out his hand for you to shake.

And you couldn’t help the ramming of your heart in your chest when he took your hand into his own.

Yunho watched as you stepped out into the parking lot to call someone, presumably that questionable boyfriend of yours who seemed to be way more trouble than he was worth. He couldn’t help how his heart had dropped when you told him you had a boyfriend in the first place. After a long while of singleness, he was kind of hoping to test the waters when he saw you, and it even seemed like you responded positively to his obvious flirtations.

“So a boyfriend, huh?” Mingi startled him from behind.

Yunho let out a small sigh, trying not to let himself get too worked up about it. You had only met twenty minutes ago for fucks sake. “Yeah, seems like a real piece of work though.”

“Really?” MIngi gave his friend a skeptical side-eye, “Or is that the jealously talking.”

“No, seriously! This is his car. And she said it’s been actin’ up for a while, but he never made the time to bring it in. She only brought it here ‘cause he wouldn’t stop whining ‘bout it.”

“Huh. Sounds kinda child-like to me, but who are we to judge? We haven't even met the dude,” Mingi pat his friend on the back, “Try not to let it get you down, man. I’m sure there’s a cowboy-lovin girl right around the corner waiting for you.”

Yunho nodded, moving along so Mingi would let the whole thing drop. But no matter how many times he repeated in his head that you were taken, he just couldn’t stop looking over in your direction. You just seemed so…tired. He didn’t want to assume, but he got the feeling that this boyfriend of yours might be the main cause of that. And try as he might to reign in his ego and keep it in check, he couldn't help the part of him that knew that, whatever this man was providing for you, he could do so much better. That wasn’t really his place, though. So he let you be. 

“Yeonjun what do you mean you’re busy? You were on the couch when I left an hour ago,” you sighed through the phone.

“Baby, come on. You know I have a gig tonight,” You fought the urge to roll your eyes. “And I need to get in the right headspace, so I can’t leave the apartment. It’ll ruin the mood.”

“Is that really more important than picking me up? I’m stuck here.”

“I don’t know. Call an Uber?” Oh, you were gonna kill him.

“What? Why would I pay for an Uber when I have a boyfriend at home with my perfectly functioning car who could drive his ass over here and pick me up? For free!”

You hated how difficult it was to get him to help you out in any way. Why did he have to be so stubborn? “Listen, I really can’t break my flow right now. Maybe wait a couple hours, and I’ll come pick you up, okay? Or maybe have one of your friends pick you up.”

“It’s 3 pm on a Tuesday, Jun. Most people are at–” He hung up on you, “Work..” You trailed off.

God, this is so embarrassing. What the hell were you going to do now? You could call an Uber, but you could barely afford groceries this week. And getting this car fixed was gonna drain the last of your paycheck. 

You bit at your lip anxiously, wracking your head for options. Your friends would be more than happy to pick you up, but most of them wouldn’t get off work for another two hours. So maybe you could just wait until then. Or maybe you could hitchhike? The highway was miles off. And your gut wrenched at the idea of a stranger knowing where you lived…But maybe that could work. Or maybe you cou–

“Everything alright out here, sweetheart?” 

You jumped at his voice, “Oh! Yeah,” you scratched at your head, trying to force a smile, “My boyfriend’s just really busy, so he can’t come get me.”

“Do you…need a ride?” He offered sincerely, “I don’t wanna overstep or anything, but I could help ya if you need it.”

“Oh god no! You don’t have to do that.”

He grinned softly at you, “It’s really nothing at all. I’ll tell you what, I’m leaving here in about an hour. If you can’t find a ride before that, you’ll let me give you drive you home.”

Just say ‘yes.’ Your brain was practically begging you to speak, but you knew this would cause an argument with Yeonjun. A random handsome man bringing you back to the apartment? Oh, it was a recipe for disaster. But what other choice did you have? It wasn’t like he was gonna pay for an Uber to help you home or pick you up himself. No, he left you stranded here with a shit reason, so you were gonna get home the best way possible, and, if it pissed him off, that was his own damn fault.

“Ok,” you smiled up at him, “If you really don’t mind.”

“Trust me, Doll, it’s no problem at all. Let me just finish a couple things up and change, and then we’ll get going, okay?”

You sat on the bench inside the shop while he finished his work. Trying to give yourself a moment to breathe. This was supposed to be your day off. You had finally been able to get a break from both of your jobs, and this is how you were spending it. Trying to fix the car of your boyfriend who couldn't even put his “pre-show ritual” on hold to make sure you got home safe. Part of you was mad at him. Livid that his priorities were so far in the gutter. But you were mostly angry at yourself. Because at the end of the day, when all was said and done, you were the one who had spent six whole years of your life bending over backward for a man who wouldn’t even reach out his arm to catch you. 

You worked two jobs to support the two of you. Your paychecks paid for groceries, rent, insurance, everything. And what did he pay for? Nothing. Because he didn’t have a job. He played two gigs every month at the dingy bar two miles from your apartment, which somehow justified not even bothering to look for employment. 

How did you even get here? A deep sigh rose out of your throat. What the hell were you doing all this for? Your head hurt just thinking about all the times he’d let you down and all the stupid little arguments those let-downs had caused. And yet you were still out here paying his bills and running his errands.

“Alright, sweetheart, ready to go?” You broke out of your spiral when he called for you, and you looked up to see him no longer in the denim and baseball cap he was sporting earlier. 

Lord help me. You silently prayed to whoever might be listening, swallowing around the sudden dryness in your throat. He was sporting a light blue button-down shirt with the top two buttons left open so his collarbones were exposed and a light brown cowboy hat that almost exactly matched his hair. A cowboy. Of course. You couldn’t help the racing of your heart as he reached to adjust the brim of his hat. Unsure of whether you wanted to praise or curse whatever fate had sent him your way.

You cleared your throat and stood up from the bench, barely pushing a ‘yes’ out of your mouth. 

He grinned and motioned for you to follow him to the parking lot. The innocent gesture left you lightheaded as you focused on the way his index and middle fingers curled towards his wrist.

As you approached, he gestured to a baby blue pickup truck, “Here she is. My baby.” You chuckled, endeared by the pet name, the image of him gently patting the hood of 'his baby' as he walked around the front of the truck with you reminding you of cowboys in old westerns, leaning their foreheads against their mares as they gently stroked their manes. 

It was sweet. So sweet that you almost missed the fact that he was coming around to the passenger side of the truck with you.

He brushed past you, reaching for the passenger-side door. Swinging it open, he held out a hand to you, and you took it without much thought. 

“Up you go,” he said with a playful lilt to his voice, helping you hold your balance as you climbed into the truck.

“Thank you, Yunho.”

“It’s not a problem at all, Doll. I got ya.” He was going to be the death of you for sure.

“Ten years. You’ve been working there that long?” you looked over at him, amazed, “How old are you?”

He let out a hearty laugh, “Twenty-five. Mingi and I used to come up after school every day and help out. His grandpa used to run the shop but he retired a few years back and left it to him.”

“Oh, that’s sweet!” The thought of a little Yunho sweeping the floors and vacuuming cars made you smile. 

He hummed, “Yeah, it’s been a real nice job. Flexible hours, good pay, get to meet pretty girls from time to time.”

The tips of your ears burned at his blatant flirting. You looked over to see him focused on the road in front of you. The rays of the late afternoon sun shone on his face, letting you see the tan glow of his skin up close. 

Why did you have to meet such a seemingly perfect man today? Why couldn’t this opportunity have fallen into your lap six years ago? 

And fuck you knew you needed to end things. But more than half a decade of your life had been poured into this relationship and you couldn’t find it in your heart to let that go so easily.

Yunho noticed you looking over at him in his periphery, expecting some kind of playful rebuke, but was more than a little worried by your silence. Afraid he'd crossed a line, he was quick to apologize, eyes sincere and tone sober when he chanced a proper glance your way. “I’m sorry, sweetheart. I don’ mean to make you uncomfortable.”

“No! It’s fine,” You assure him, unconsciously threading your fingers through the ends of your hair, “I just don’t usually get this kind of attention. I know you’re just being playful.”

He nodded, some of his playfulness seeping back into his expression as he cleared his throat, adjusting the brim of his hat as he fixed his attention back onto the road in front of him. “I promise I’m not lyin’ about the ‘pretty’ part, though. I hope you know that.”

You scoff, but you can feel the heat in your cheeks rise, “Thank you…”

Silence enveloped the two of you after that, but he didn't seem to mind. Drumming his fingers on the steering wheel and humming along to the music playing out of the car's stereo. In another life, one where the man waiting for you back at your apartment wasn't hell-bent on driving you insane, you wanted to believe that you could be strong enough to look away. To ignore the butterflies filling your stomach. To ignore the way he made your heart flutter. But you just couldn’t find it in you to look away, but he didn’t seem to catch on.

He thinks it's cute that you think he doesn’t notice. He’s very keen on noticing your every little move. The way you tucked a strand of hair behind your ear when he called you pretty and the way you awkwardly fidgeted with your bag when you told him that you didn’t normally receive that kind of attention.

It took every ounce of self-control in his body to keep him from prying. But he couldn’t help the way he started to hate this man that he’d never met even more. What he wouldn’t give to have a partner who was willing to go get his car fixed without asking. Someone who was so dedicated to the relationship that they were willing to sacrifice the little free time they had just to help out.

As he pulled into the parking lot of your apartment complex, he glanced over at you and met your eyes for a second. You quickly whipped your head away, embarrassed that you’d been caught red-handed. He couldn’t stop himself from smiling, smiled, “Here we are.”

“Mhm,” you nodded awkwardly, busying yourself with checking that you had all your things set to go. “Thank you for the ride. It means a lot.”

“Not a problem at all, Doll. Need me to walk you up?” he asked, leaning forward to try and meet your eyes.

You shook your head, “No, I’ll be alright.” You gave him a smile, “So you’ll call me tomorrow?”

He nodded, the tip of his hat dropping slightly, “Yep, I should be done with ‘er around noon.”

“Perfect! Again, thank you so mu–”

You were cut off by the sound of someone pounding on the passenger side window. Both of you turn at the sudden commotion. 

Yunho watched as you hurriedly swung the door open and slid out of the car. And he heard a muffled, “Jun, what the hell!?” after you’d slammed the door of his truck.

Ah, the boyfriend.

“Are you insane? What the fuck is your problem?” You yelled.

Yeonjun glared at you through the wild strands of his crimson hair, “My problem!? Who the fuck is that?”

“Oh, that’s your issue? That I had to have the mechanic drive me home?” You seethed, jabbing a finger into his chest, “This could’ve easily been avoided if you had picked your sorry ass off the couch to drive me home yourself. Like any decent partner would.”

Your not-so-subtle jab seemed to go over his head, his mind too focused on the image of you smiling and blushing in response to a man that wasn’t him. “You really couldn’t have found a woman to drive you home? It just had to be this dick.”

“No, Yeonjun, I couldn’t find a woman to drive me home. You know why? Because it’s a Tuesday afternoon and all of my friends have jobs. Unlike you who can’t even take the time to take a break from whatever the fuck you do all day to give me a ride.”

He gawked at you, clearly offended, “I have a job.”

“Oh my god. This again?” You ran a frustrated hand over your face, “No. You don’t. Practicing with your bandmates twice a week and playing a single gig a month is not a job. You make $100 a month.”

“How many times do I have to tell you that I don’t want a nine-to-five? I like my schedule the way it is.”

You could feel angry tears forming at the back of your eyes, stinging as you held them back, “You think I DO!? Yeonjun, I work sixty hours a week trying to keep us afloat. I pay for our food, our rent, our insurance, your fucking car! And I can’t even get you to pick up the damn apartment when I’m gone.” The tears started falling before you even realized it, shocking both of you. It had been a long time since he’d last seen you cry. Because you always chose either anger or an eerily calm response to his childishness. Knowing deep down that he wouldn’t be able to comfort you if you slipped into vulnerability. “I’m fucking tired Jun. This was my first day off in three months, and I spent it trying to get your car fixed. And I can’t even get a ‘thank you’ out of you. I don’t know how much longer I can do this. You aren’t nineteen anymore, and I think it’s time you grow the fuck up.”

He didn’t say anything. The anger in his face replaced by a mix of shock and awkward discomfort, one of a man who was embarrassed to even be in this situation.

You stayed like that for a beat, holding your breath, praying for the moment when he realized everything he’d done wrong. Where he woke up from the immature daze he’d been trapped in since you were teenagers. But you supposed that was all wishful thinking, the tension broken not by either of you, but by a honk from behind him. His bandmate was here to pick him up. 

He couldn’t even look you in the eyes. “We’ll talk about this later,” he mumbled before jogging up to his friend’s car and sliding into the passenger seat. You watched him give his friend one of their ridiculous handshakes, the sound of blaring music and feminine laughter spilling out into the parking lot before the car door slammed shut. The scene was so ironic in the face of everything he'd just yelled at you for that you really couldn't stop the laughter that bubbled up through your tears, bitter as acid on your tongue.

Yunho sat in his truck as he watched your asshole of a boyfriend leave the parking lot. He stayed like that for a while, watching you wipe at your tears and try to compose yourself. When you’d calmed down enough for his conscience to let him leave, he looked down at the passenger seat and noticed you had left your purse behind.

Grabbing the bag, he exited the truck and approached you. Trying his best not to startle you, he cleared his throat. 

Surprised by the sound, you turned around to find Yunho standing there awkwardly, holding out the purse you now realized was missing from your shoulders, “You left your bag.”

“Oh…thank you.” You mumbled, closing the distance and grabbing it from him with a bit more force than you meant to. The mechanic didn’t so much as flinch.

How could he when his heart hurt for you? This woman he could barely even claim to know. He hated the fact that you felt the need to respond defensively, the pain in your eyes, and how you could barely look at him. You shouldn’t feel ashamed of this. It wasn’t your fault. But Yunho knew without you having to say anything that you were incredibly embarrassed. 

“Listen–”

“Oh god. Please don’t”

His shoulders dropped, “I just wanted to–”

You lifted a hand to stop him, “Yunho, please. You’ve been so kind to me, and I really appreciate your help today. But please for the love of god don’t make me dump my relationship problems on you.”

“Hey now,” he said, holding both his hands up in a calming motion as he spoke in a voice so deep and steady in contrast to your own that it caught you by surprise, “I don’t mean to push or pry, Doll, you just look like you could use someone to talk to is all.”

“I just don’t want you to think down on me,” you sighed.

He looked at you sincerely, slipping the hat from his head and placing it on the hood of the truck, “Now, have I given you the impression that that’s somethin’ I would ever do?”

The appreciative smile you gave him almost made him melt. You leaned back against the side of his truck, tilting your head back until it hit the window with a soft thud, “I’m just so tired.”

Yunho slid next to you, awkwardly scuffing his boot into the pavement, “Would it be too rude to say I could tell?”

You chuckled, “I just don’t know what I’m doing wrong. I’ve been trying for years to get him to just put in an ounce of effort, but he won’t budge. But we’ve been together so long I don’t know if I have it in me to end things.”

“You know it’s not your job to teach him how to be an adult, right? He’s a grown-ass man. You shouldn’t have to beg him to help you out.” 

The somber look in your eyes when you looked up at him made Yunho want to pull you in and hug you to his chest, but he respected your boundaries. 

“I know. I just…” you trailed off, no longer finding it in yourself to argue for your relationship.

Yunho took a deep breath, bracing himself for what he wanted to get off his chest, “Look, Doll, I don’ wanna overstep or anything, but I’m gonna be blunt with you.” He paused, giving you room to tell him to stuff it and save it for someone else if you wanted to. But you were looking up at him expectantly, teary eyes nearly pushing his little speech clean out of his skull. He had to clear his throat a little before continuing. “The way that man treats you is just disgusting. For everything you do for him? The least he could do is make sure that your apartment is spotless and you never have to cook again. And I’m not saying it’s me who should give it to you, but you deserve worlds better than that.”

“Yeah…” was all you could get out before you felt a tear fall down your cheek, and you tried to wipe it away before Yunho saw. But of course he noticed.

Tentatively, he placed a hand on your shoulder in comfort, running his thumb along the fabric of your t-shirt. You surprised him, though, when you turned into him and started sobbing into his chest. Your fingers desperately gripping his button down.

“Oh sweetheart,” he whispered, wrapping his arms around you and rubbing your back. Holding you with so much warmth and sincerity that you felt safer than you had in years. In the arms of a stranger, no less.

general taglist: @swimmingkpopblog @oddracha

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@sushiinmidnight @atiny-dime-p1ece @mismatchfluffysocks @vic0921 @vampzity

@breadpuddingboys @woolysium @desirehorizon @im-ovulation @pommelex

@dancingwithdeities @maidens-world

ok cowboy: @saintriots @ateezswonderland @fairyofhueningkai

[lure-of-writing]

Little sister: Knock before you enter

Summary: Maybe Rhys should knock before he enters

Word count: 1.6k

Rhysand had many titles and jobs he was required to upkeep and fulfill. The most daunting title of all; your brother. And as your older brother it was his job to keep you happy and safe but how is he supposed to do that while being high lord, tending to his court, being a new father and a good mate. It was safe to say that he had been falling behind in that area of his life and by no means were you upset with him. Truthfully if Rhysand was willing to admit it to himself you were probably happy to not have him breathing down your neck every two seconds but as your older brother he couldn’t let his lack of time keep him from checking in on you. 

Flying to the house of wind he greets Cassian and Nesta in the kitchen having breakfast after what he could only assume was a long training session. Of one kind or another. “Good morning, have you seen my sister by chance?” He stopped to grab a piece of fruit that sat in the basket on the counter. Nesta shook her head in a no motion while bringing her cup to her lips to take a sip. “She wasn’t at training this morning.”  his general responded. It wasn’t unusual for you to skip training every now and then but since befriending Cassian's mate you made it more of a point to be consistent in your routine. Something most definitely had to be off. The high lord nodded at his family members and silently made his way to your bedroom and once your door handle was within reach he pushed the door open without any thought. 

The second his eyes took in the scene before him, he really wished he would have knocked. At least to give Azriel the chance to winnow away before he caught the two of you in a compromising position. “Well good morning to you too.” Your light laughter felt like a slap in the face and your brother directed his gaze to the ceiling. Azriel said nothing as he continued tightening the lace of your corset as if this was another normal day for the three of you. It in fact was not another normal day for the three of you.

In the middle of the room stood you and Azriel. Your back facing him while he gently pulls the strings of the fabric together in hopes of tightening the fabric to be flush with your body. Neither you nor Azriel seemed fazed by this arraignment. Rhysand made a mental note to ask his shadowsinger about that later. Right now he was trying to find a reason as to why you felt comfortable wearing nothing but this corset top and underwear in front of the man he considered a brother. He would also have to ask about that later. 

Coughing Rhys found the bravery in himself to look at you again for a mere seconds before shifting his gaze to literally anything else in your room. “Azriel, why are you helping my sister get dressed?” Before his friend could answer you jumped in to answer for him “Because I can’t tie a corset by myself, obviously” for a few seconds you watched while your brother tried to find the right words but by the time he had found them you were already strutting across the room and into the closet to grab the skirt that matches the outfit. Putting it on before him and the spymaster. Effortlessly you pulled it up and around your waist while turning once again to give Azriel access to tie the strings of your skirt together and complete your outfit. “And where exactly are you going where you need an outfit like that?” nothing about your outfit was revealing but it was definitely one of your nicer outfits for sure. Once again your laughter rang out into the room filling it with undeniable warmth. “Fatherhood sure has made you quite forgetful hasn’t it?”  Rhys tried to rack his brain for any reason you would need to be dressed up and he couldn’t find any. Maybe fatherhood has made him forgetful. “I’m going to visit the summer court and try to fix our relationship with them and since you are quite forgetful today, here is your reminder that Az is coming with me.” Silently the two male lock eye contact and Rhys raises a brow in questioning. Az titled his head slightly in a questioning manner. “You really want your sister going to another court alone?” 

Sighing a hefty sigh which Rhys was sure would be the first of many today he shook his head. “Of course I don’t want her to go alone. I just don’t recall telling you to go with her.” Confused, Azriel asked “Who else would go then?” And honestly Rhysand had no idea. 

After one week which felt like forever knowing you were alone with his shadowsinger the two of you had finally returned. It wasn’t like he didn’t trust the two of you but he couldn’t help but remember you curled up a little too comfortably in the spymaster's lap during the family dinner and now he walks into your room and there is Azriel helping you get dressed while you're basically naked. Something about that made his stomach queasy. 

After you had debriefed with your brother about your week, your very exciting week at that, you had made your grand exit to your room to wash away the day of traveling you had endured while Azriel gave him his report of your experience. After explaining everything the two males once again found themselves in the same situation as a week ago. Silently observing each other waiting for someone to make the first move. “Would you like to explain why you were in my sister's room helping her get dressed last week?” Az said nothing for a minute while staring at his high lord. “Like you said I was helping her get dressed.” Rhysand couldn’t help the scoff that slipped from his lips in disbelief. “Az I’m not stupid. I know something is going on between the two of you just please be honest and tell me. First she sits in your lap which sure isn’t unusual for her but then when I go to get her up from you, you don’t let me. Then at the court of nightmares, which don’t get me wrong I am eternally grateful that you protected her but then she kisses you like her life depended on it and leads you off to gods know where and now I find you in her room quote unquote helping her get dressed while she's basically half naked. I would be lying if I said this didn’t make me mad but  I really just want you to be truthful with me.” 

Azriel knew just how bad it seemed to anyone but the two of you but listening to Rhys list off all the stuff he had seen you two do, did seem a little suspicious. But truthfully he could say that nothing was going on between the two of you. Sure you liked to push the boundaries of friends to lovers quite often but it was always with Azriels concent and permission and nothing more ever happened then what Rhys had witnessed. Azriel respected Rhysand in more ways than one and part of that meant never crossing the in your relationship into something more as much as Azriel really wished he could. Some part of Azriel knew that you were meant for him but he knew his high lords stance on either him or Cassian dating his little sister. And it was never an option because Rhysand would never allow it to be one. 

“Rhys, I respect you which means I also respect you that don’t want me to date your little sister. I would never do anything to cross that line and I honestly try not to but you know you sister. She likes to get under your skin and since Cassian can’t help her achieve that goal anymore she comes to me. If it truly bothers you that much I will talk to her and put it to a stop. As for last week, after training I was the first one back down into the house and she simply asked for my help. At first I denied but once she brought the corset out to show me how complicated it was I agreed to help her, nothing more was going on I promise.”

After a long and much needed talk with Azriel, Rhysand had finally made it back to his bedroom and his wonderful mate. Once the couple had caught each other up on their day things started to escalate and before he knew it he was starting to undress Feyre. Suddenly the bedroom door slammed open and there you were standing in the entrance of his room staring at him expectantly. After a very lengthy pause of the three of you glancing at and forth at each other you finally speak. “Rhys what are you doing? Feyre is a grown woman she can undress herself. She doesn’t need your help.” with an exhausted sigh you watch as your brother rubs his weary face. He knew exactly what this was about. “Maybe next time you'll knock before entering.” Feyre watched as you turned around and left as if you had not just barged into their room. Without saying anything to her mate she raises an eyebrow in question as if to say “What was that about?” Sighing once more Rhysand just shakes his head before face planting into their bed. Exiting his house you make your way to where Azriel was waiting to fly the two of you back to the house of wind “Maybe next time he’ll actually knock.” The gentle laugh of the shadowsinger caressed your heart as he scooped you into his arms and took off to the sky. That was not before pressing a gentle kiss to your temple.

Taglist: @kemillyfreitas @gorlillaglue25 @willowpains

[poeticpascal]

Home (Joel Miller x Barbie!Reader)

Masterlist | Request here!

Summary: When a deep sense of loneliness overcomes Cowgirl Barbie, she leaves Barbieland to find whatever poor kid it is that's making her feel that way. Of course, she could never have expected just how much light Sarah would bring to her life, and she certainly didn't expect the things her grumpy father would teach her about love.

Word count: 10.6k

Warnings: Barbie movie spoilers, angst, angry Joel (he's insecure and protective), descriptions of loneliness, lots of fluff!

A/n: this is literally my Magnum Opus. Reader is Cowgirl Barbie. I truly hope you love this as much as I do 💖

Barbieland has been very different since Stereotypical Barbie left. Good different.

The Kens have jobs now, proper jobs, not just ‘Beach’ or ‘Surf’. They’re not the most competent workers Barbieland has ever seen; they get too distracted trying on new overalls at the building site or throwing paper aeroplanes at each other in the offices. But they’re trying, and you have to admit, it’s pretty adorable seeing them so excited to head off to work each morning.

Barbieland has laughter now, true laughter, not perfect giggles but the kind that brings tears to your eyes and makes your belly hurt. It has crying, proper full-bodied sobs that rack through your chest, aching in a good way. And it has life. Fervent, overwhelming, painfully brilliant life.

It’s magnificent, even the really hard bits. Which there are a lot of.

Like losing someone you really, really love.

Stereotypical Barbie - Barbara, as she’s known now - had been your best friend. Your Dreamhouse was right next to hers, and every morning you’d float down to the streets together, where she’d hop into her little pink car and you’d mount your pony and ride into town. It was perfect, a sweet little life surrounded by pinkness and joy, and if you’re being completely honest with yourself, you miss it.

You bonded over how displaced you both felt. Neither of you really had a thing, a specific job to do. She was Stereotypical Barbie, and you’re Cowgirl Barbie. Destined to wear dusty denim and cowboy hats for all of eternity; not a doctor, not a physicist, not an astronaut and certainly not the president. Just a cowgirl.

And there aren’t even any cows.

That was what brought you and Stereotypical Barbie together; you both felt slightly unsure of the world, however perfect it may be, and you found friendship in that.

So when she left, that hurt. 

Because she found purpose.

Purpose in feeling, and knowing, and living.

Purpose in things you could only dream about. And what you hate the most is that she was right.

It feels good to hurt. It feels good to have that pain in your chest, that ache in your cheeks when you’re not quite done crying yet. That emptiness that fills the space where flowers had once bloomed.

It feels like shit to miss your friend, and it feels incredible to have loved someone so much that you miss them.

And that’s the beauty she brought to your life. To all the Barbies’ lives.

But it still goddamn hurts.

About as much as the strange thoughts of loneliness have hurt the past few weeks.

You’re never alone in Barbieland; there’s always someone there, a friend, a listening ear. A million other Barbies who genuinely care.

But the feeling is so strong, so heavy in your gut, that all the Barbies and Kens and Allens in the world can’t take it away.

Which only calls for one thing.

“Your friend had the same problem, you know,” Weird Barbie says, walking round you in circles like prey. You gulp; she’s significantly less ‘weird’ now, what with her fancy job at the Capital and the whole ‘awakened Barbies’ thing, but she certainly kept some habits that set you a little bit on edge.

“How do you mean?” You stutter, trying to keep up as she continues to stalk around you and make strange gestures.

“First came the depression-” she pulls down a presentation screen from god-knows where, one decorated with the typical Barbie anatomy and annotated with the same notes Weird Barbie is now recounting. She points to the head, ‘depression’ scribbled beside it, and stops in front of you.

“And then-” she moves again, rotating to the other side of the screen and pointing to the drawing’s legs. “-came the cellulite.”

She pauses, seemingly waiting for some big reaction, but you just stare. Sure, cellulite was feared back then, but almost every Barbie has it now, and it’s really no big deal. “...okay?” you posit, slightly more concerned as Weird Barbie’s face falls at your reply.

“Damn, I guess we really are doing things differently now.” Her surprise is dropped quickly, as she continues to explain what it means to be overcome with these awful feelings so quickly.

“In the end, sweetheart, there’s only one way to fix this.” She leans in uncomfortably close, making you gulp. “You gotta go to the real world.”

You had a feeling she’d say that. 

♡❀˖⁺. ༶ ⋆˙⊹❀♡

When you arrive in the real world, there’s really only one person you can go to. The one person you’ve missed more than anything.

She was your best friend, and yet standing here on the doorstep of an apartment that looks nothing like a Dreamhouse, you can’t help how nervous you feel.

She’d given all the Barbies her new address, in case any of them managed to sneak into the real world, so she mustn’t mind that you’re here. But she’ll be so different now, so human, and you’re still just a Barbie with a jaunty cowgirl outfit and a sunny disposition.

Your worries are immediately washed away when the door flings open, and before you can even see who it is, a pair of arms are tightly wrapped around your neck and you’re pulled in for a big, warm hug. But you know who it is, and you hug her back immediately, tears welling in your eyes as you finally hold your best friend again.

Barbara pulls back, holding your cheeks in her hands, almost like she didn’t think you were really there. “I can’t believe you’re here!” She grins, hugging you again with a giggle. “I missed you so much.”

“Oh, Barbara, I missed you too,” you cry, not wanting to let her go. 

“What are you doing here?” She asks, and you finally relax your arms, taking in how much she’s changed. She isn’t wearing anything pink, or sparkly, but a white blouse and nude pants that look very professional. Very human. Very different.

You don’t reply to her question, unsure of what the answer even is, and that alone makes her worried. So she takes you by the hand and leads you into her apartment, one painted white with sweet pictures on the walls of her with Sasha and Gloria, and some other women you don’t recognise. It makes you a little jealous.

She leads you to the kitchen, sitting you on a bar stool and pouring tea for you both. You go to drink it, holding the cup away from your mouth and tipping it, but she quickly jumps up shouting “no!” and pulling the cup down.

She laughs, making you laugh nervously too, and explains you need to hold the cup to your lips and sip. “Are you sure?” you ask, staring down at the liquid and tentatively trying to drink it, the warmth on your tongue foreign but sweet. 

“Yep! That’s how we drink here. I know it’s weird but once you get used to it, it’s so good.”

You smile, putting down the cup and looking back at your friend. “Things are pretty different here, huh?”

Barbara smiles, nodding her head and swinging her legs where they hang from the stool. “Yep! Isn’t it great?”

“Yeah, it is,” you reply, with a fraction of the excitement. You push a loose strand of hair behind your ear, knocking your hat slightly which you quickly correct into place, acutely aware of yourself in the presence of someone who’s changed so much. “Do… do you ever miss us? The Barbies?”

She grimaces, making you regret asking as soon as the words leave your lips. Her eyebrows sink into concern, and she sets her tea down beside yours, taking your hand and squeezing it tightly.

“Every single day. Of course I miss you - I even miss the Kens!” You both giggle, and you’re reminded of how things were before. 

You have to admit, you almost asked your Ken to come with you, but he was having so much fun in Barbieland now that you couldn’t bring yourself to take him away from it.

“I’m so sorry I made you feel that way.” Her eyes have welled up now, and guilt hits you like a truck.

“No, no, I’m sorry. You didn’t do anything wrong. I’m so happy for you, truly.” You smile, and you know she knows you mean it. “I just… I feel so lonely. It’s like a big hole in my chest, all the time. No matter what I do, no matter how many girl’s nights and big blowout parties and days on the beach, I just feel lonely. And it’s even worse without you here.”

Barbara holds your hand tighter, and something you said seems to have caught her attention. “You mean you felt like this even before I left? Before the Kendom?”

You nod, sheepish, and her eyes squint in thought. Then, as if a lightbulb has gone off in her head, she gives you her trademark big white smile and excitedly shouts, “I know what you need to do!”

She jumps off her chair, grabbing your hand and pulling you towards the floor-to-ceiling windows overlooking LA. You stand there for a moment, taking in the view, the overwhelming sights and sounds of rushing traffic below you. It’s beautiful and terrifying at the same time.

“You need to find the little girl who’s playing with you,” Barbara whispers, watching your amazement. 

“Isn’t that what you did?” You ask, finally pulling your eyes away to face your friend. She nods, her smile just as bright and honest as ever, and it makes the idea of facing this big wide world seem a little less scary.

“I’ll come with you, we’ll go find her, and we’ll figure out what’s been making her feel so lonely.” 

“Will you really come with me?” 

You already know the answer; of course she will. She’s the kindest person you know. Of course, all the Barbies are the kindest people you know, but that’s a technicality you don’t feel like getting into right now.

“You know it,” she grins, and you can’t help but grin back as you think about what an adventure this is going to be.

“How will I know where to find her?” You ask, looking back through the window at the huge world on the other side of the glass. How could you possibly find your kid?

Barbie tugs you to face her, straightens your hat and looks directly into your eyes, making you focus. “You gotta be really calm, okay? Just close your eyes, clear your mind, and find her memories. And then try to figure out where she is. That’s how I found Sasha!’

You nod, not quite sure how this is going to work, if this is going to work. But you try anyway, squeezing your eyes shut and doing your best to shush all the noise and confusion in your head, desperately searching for anything that could help you find your kid. You get nothing, ready to give up after a few minutes of emptiness, when suddenly - there it is, the faintest hint of a memory.

“Dad, can we have a movie night tonight?” Sarah asks, watching as Joel paces the room, frantically searching for his other shoe.

“Yeah, sweetheart, course,” he replies. She smiles, heading over to the TV stand and already searching for a film to watch, giggling as her Dad begins to lift up the couch cushions. 

She looks down, seeing the shoe hiding just behind the stand, and rolls her eyes as she picks it up and throws it at him. “How’d you find it?” He mutters, scoffing as she just laughs at him, though a matching grin is etching its way onto his lips.

He slides on the other shoe, grabbing his wallet and keys and heading over to give Sarah a kiss on the head. “When will you be home?” She asks, and he offers a guilty smile that doesn’t make her particularly hopeful.

“Soon as I can, Sarah. Around 8? 9 at the latest.” She nods, forcing a smile and letting him go, and Joel’s out the door in a flash with a final shout of “Love you, honey!” and a slam of the door.

The memory changes, then.

It’s nighttime, and Sarah lies alone on the couch, a movie playing that she doesn’t seem to be really watching. Her eyes flicker up to the mantlepiece, where the clock reads 10:13, and she sighs. 

Then she stands, traipsing into the hallway and towards the front door, where the key hangs in the lock. She turns it, unlocking the door and leaving the key on the sidetable, then picking up a piece of mail that had been left there.

“51 Mulberry Road

Travis County

Austin, Texas

Dear Mr. Miller, we are writing to solicit your contracting services for our new development…”

Sarah groans, throwing the letter back on the table and muttering “more work, great.” She retreats upstairs, slamming the door behind her and climbing into bed…

You’re pulled out of the memory by Barbara’s voice, filled with excitement. “Can you see her? Do you know her name? Do you know where she is?”

“Sarah” you mumble, still dazed. “Sarah, her name’s Sarah.”

Barbara squeals, clapping her hands together before calming herself and urging you to continue. “And? Where is she?”

You concentrate, trying to remember what was written on the letter you saw. “Er… Texas. Yeah, she’s in Texas. Mulberry Road. Is that close?”

She pulls a face, a yeah… no kind of face, then grabs a big book from under her coffee table and flips it open. You watch in amazement as she scans the pages and pages of maps inside, until she shouts, “a-ha!”, pointing to a spot on a page titled ‘The United States of America’. “Here it is. We’ll need to fly there.”

A nervous excitement brews in your tummy, your eyes glued to the little spot on the map labelled Texas. The spot where Sarah lives, with her Dad. The place you’re destined to find.

“Oh, and don’t get freaked out… but men fly planes here.” Your head snaps up, confusion painting your face, and Barbara just nods at your reaction.

“Seriously?” You ask, wondering if she was just playing a prank. “Is… is that safe?”

She giggles, putting the book down and grabbing your hand. “Yep, there’s a lot to get used to here. You’ll see. Now come on, we need to pack our bags!”

♡❀˖⁺. ༶ ⋆˙⊹❀♡

And so here you are, on a flight to Texas, on your way to find Sarah and bring an end to her loneliness. 

Barbara tells you all about the real world. How different yet wonderful it is, how much there is to do and see and feel. She’s at university now, getting qualifications to be a psychologist and work with young girls who are struggling. It’s brilliant, but strange, you think - qualifications aren’t needed in Barbieland - anyone can just do anything. Well, the Barbies can. And the Kens really do try.

The journey is filled with new and exciting things, but it’s scattered with memories of Sarah and her dad that pop up in your mind at random. You see everything; their best moments, their worst, the times they’ve laughed and cried and screamed. 

You can see the first time she chose you. She was smaller, much smaller than she is in the more recent memories, and her Dad seemed friendlier, then.

“Alright, honey. Which one d’ya want?” Joel asks, smiling as Sarah’s eyes scan shelf after shelf of Barbies. 

“You should get this one,” he jokes, picking up a doll labelled ‘Builder Barbie’. “She’s just like your daddy!”

Sarah giggles, shaking her head and crossing her arms. “You’re not a builder, daddy! You’re a cont-ac-er.”

Joel’s heart warms, both at how much she loves his job and won’t accept a vague similarity, and her attempted pronunciation of the word ‘contractor’. 

“Well then, which one, babygirl?”

She spends a few more moments looking at each option, before her eyes widen, landing on one a little further away to the left. She stands up on her tippy-toes, grabbing the doll and admiring it, giddy.

“This one, Daddy! I want this one!” She shows him the doll, waving it in his face but not letting him take it, protective already. It’s a Cowgirl Barbie, one clothed in denim and brown leather, with cliche cowboy boots and a hat. 

“She’s just like you, Daddy.”

Joel pulls a face, looking back and forth between Sarah and the doll. “How in the hell is she like me?”

Sarah scowls, pointing to the cowboy hat and explaining, “she’s a cowgirl! And you’re a cowboy!” 

“I ain’t no cowboy” Joel retorts, shaking his head and leading Sarah over to the cashier’s desk. “When have you ever seen me in one of them hats, huh?”

Sarah giggles, itching to take the doll out of the box, and Joel knows she’ll do it the second he’s paid. “Maybe you can borrow hers, daddy, and be a proper cowboy.”

He rolls his eyes, though the smile hasn’t fallen from his face for even a second. He pays, watching with joy as Sarah scrambles to rip open the plastic, finally pulling out the doll and hugging it the whole way home while making up stories of ranches and horses and pistol duels - she was certainly her father’s daughter.

“Barbie? You there?” Barbara pulls you out of your thoughts, staring at you as you finally turn to look at her. 

“Sorry, I’m here. Just…”

“Keep getting memories, huh?” 

You nod, looking out the plane window and into the skies. She still seems concerned, but lets it go, returning to her magazine and letting you be with your thoughts. 

More memories swirl in your mind; you can see Sarah’s first days of middle school and high school, her most vulnerable moments of crying in her room and talking to you like you were the only one who’d listen, her relationship with her dad and how he’s become more and more distant over the years.

Sarah slams her bedroom door behind her, falling on the bed with a sigh. She sits back up, her eyes falling on the Cowgirl sat on the shelf across from her, growing dusty as she plays with it less and less.

She’s 14 now, too old for dolls really. And yet, that Barbie had been there with her through her toughest moments, and even now, it was comforting to have her there.

“Dad’s at work. Again.” She says, half to the doll, half to herself. “It sucks.”

She dives into her backpack, pulling out a small box and opening it up, the newly-polished watch inside glistening in the light from the window. 

She takes it out, delicately, and turns it around to see the engraved lettering on the back. 

‘No matter what, we have each other. I love you, Dad. From Sarah x’

She smiles, quickly placing the watch back in its box, not wanting to damage it before she could even give it to her Dad. “You think he’ll like it?” She asks the doll smiling at her from the shelf.

“I just… I just want him to know I love him. And that I know he doesn’t mean to be gone all the time.” 

She stands, picking the doll up from the shelf and brushing the dust away, carefully readjusting her little hat and smiling at the piece of her childhood. 

“I’ll give it to him tonight. If he ever comes home,” she sighs, lying down beside the Barbie and taking a nap, knowing she had a long wait ahead.

♡❀˖⁺. ༶ ⋆˙⊹❀♡

“Alright, here we are!” Barbara chimes, pulling up to the house you’d been looking for. 51 Mulberry Road. 

“Are you nervous?”

“Hell yeah I’m nervous,” you quip, the fear plainly stated in your wide eyes. What if she doesn’t like you? What if you can’t help her feel less lonely? What if this just doesn’t work?

“Look, I’ve been there,” she replies, knowing exactly how you feel. “You’ve gotta remember that you’re her Barbie. You’re her friend, and she’s yours. It’s all gonna work out. My only advice? Don’t expect her to thank you for making everything amazing for women. Trust me, it does not end well.”

You giggle, remembering the story of when she first met Sasha, and hope Sarah won’t be quite as mean. You feel a little better, and thank Barbara for her support, grateful to have your friend back.

“Alright, I’m gonna go and get a coffee. If you need anything, call me, okay?” She hands you the little flip phone she bought, having shown you how to make texts and calls on it to her iPhone. You nod, thanking her again and stepping out of the car, the nerves building up as you hear her drive away and you’re left alone in front of the house.

You take a deep breath, your boots clicking on the path as you make your way up to the door, supported by a big wooden patio and a bench out front. It reminds you of home a little; your western-themed Dreamhouse, clad with old wooden floors and southern-style windows.

Before you can talk yourself out of it, you raise a hand and knock, waiting with baited breath before you hear footsteps on the other side and the door swings open.

And there she is. Sarah.

She’s a little older than she was in the most recent memories you saw, around 16 now. She’s tall, with a purple cardigan on and pretty blue jeans that you’re jealous of already. Her smile is bright, precious, and if you didn’t know better you’d think she was a Barbie herself.

“Can I help you?” She asks, looking you up and down with a slightly confused, but still polite expression. 

You stall, the introduction you’d prepared completely forgotten, your mouth just opening and closing like a fish out of water. Sarah’s expression becomes one of concern more than anything, and she reaches out a soft hand to touch your arm, making you jump.

“Oh! I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to…” she pauses, looking you over again. “Sorry, do I… do I know you?”

You stumble again, trying to find the right words, and she must see how genuinely nervous you are because she searches behind you into the street, then pulls you inside and shuts the door. “Come on, you need something to drink.”

She leads you to the kitchen, a beautifully decorated but old fashioned room with porcelain tiles and wooden beams across the ceiling. You trace your fingers across the counter top, looking around in awe while Sarah pours you a glass of lemonade. 

Your eyes fall to the corner of the room, where her school bag sits, and a familiar-looking cowboy hat pokes out. You walk towards it without thinking and pull out the doll, admiring the little plastic version of yourself.

“Oh, that’s - that’s not what it looks like. I’m not… I don’t play with dolls anymore, obviously, I just…”

Sarah’s voice trails off, and you assume she’s embarrassed, but when you turn to face her you realise it’s not that at all. She’s staring at you, then the doll, then back at you, with a cocktail of confusion and realisation on her face. 

“You’re dressed… you look exactly like her. What -“ She’s cut off by the front door slamming shut, and a familiar voice shouting down the hall, “Sarah? I’m home.”

Her eyes widen, quickly looking for somewhere she to hide you, the stranger she’s invited in, panicking as her Dad’s footsteps get louder.

But it’s too late. Joel stands in the door frame, staring at you, then shooting Sarah a look that says, ‘the fuck is this?’

“Dad, I can explain-“ he cuts her off, staring you in the eye and taking a step towards you. He looks older than he did in your memories - not in the way that Sarah does, but in a tired way, like he’d worked a hundred years and counting. Grey curls wash over his head, matched by a silvery beard and sunken eyes, and for all the Kens you’ve known in your life, you don’t think you’ve met anyone as handsome as him.

“Who the fuck are you?” He asks - no, demands, one arm protectively stretched in Sarah’s direction.

“I- I’m- Barbie. I’m Barbie.” You stutter, clutching the doll a little tighter in your hand. Joel’s face scrunches angrily, and he looks at Sarah again, who just shrugs.

“You’re fuckin’ what?” He asks, clearly unimpressed.

You panic, holding up the doll to your face, showing him the obvious similarities between you. The same clothes, same hairstyle, same eyes. 

“You know, Cowgirl Barbie. Sarah’s Barbie,” you explain, a little more confident now, hoping they’d accept your explanation.

Your hopes are quickly dashed as Joel asks Sarah, “do you know this clown?” 

His arms are clenched, and you try not to worry about what’s coming next.

“No, Dad, but-“

He cuts her off. “So you just invited this crazy person into our home?” 

He’s shouting now, and you recoil, remembering Barbara’s first experience meeting Sasha. You wonder if this is worse.

“Dad, don’t talk about her like that,” Sarah shouts back. It makes you feel at least a little better, but it’s too late. Joel’s incensed, shouting about stranger danger and how you’re probably an escapee from some mental asylum, how weird it is that you know what dolls she owns and how to dress like them. 

“- and you” he looks directly at you now, pointing. “You get the hell out of my home and you don’t speak to my daughter ever again, you hear me?”

Tears stream down your face as you nod, throwing the doll onto the counter and running past Sarah and Joel and out of the house. You can barely make it out the front door, stumbling against the columns on the patio, before making it just far enough onto the grass outside to stumble to your knees and let yourself cry properly.

That same, overwhelming loneliness fills you again, tearing deep into your chest and only adding to your pain. Your shoulders shake, and you try to remind yourself of what they teach you at Barbieland; crying is good, hurting is good. It means you’re alive.

But it really doesn’t feel good right now.

You can hear the faint sound of the door opening and closing, but you don’t really register it, not until you feel a soft hand on your shoulder.

You look behind you, meeting Sarah’s apologetic eyes, and you try to wipe your own of their flood of tears. 

“Oh no, I’m sorry, I must look horrible,” you laugh, though it’s forced.

Sarah smiles, sitting down in front of you, knees crossed. “I think you look beautiful.”

And that makes you really smile.

You giggle, pulling off your cowboy hat and setting it on the grass beside you. Your denim jacket feels a little hot now, too tight, but you try to ignore the feeling and focus on getting your breathing back to normal.

“Is it true? Are you really… her?” 

Sarah’s question is soft, like she doesn’t know quite which answer she wants. You only nod, fiddling with your hands in your lap.

“You’re Barbie?” She asks again, and you can tell she’s expecting a reply this time.

“Cowgirl Barbie,” you answer, still only looking at your hands. 

“God, you know, when Stereotypical Barbie came here, she had such a good time. Mind you, that was in LA, so -“

Sarah cuts you off with a gasp. “Wait, that was real? I heard about that! It was all over Twitter - Barbie and Ken on roller skates in LA, Barbie in a pink cowboy outfit-“

“Yes!” You exclaim, excited - “she told me all about it! She chose the cowboy outfit ‘cos it reminded her of me, you know. We’re best friends.” 

You’re showing off a little now, but you don’t care - it feels good to talk, to be believed.

Sarah watches you in awe. “Wow. So this is, like, real. This is real? You’re Barbie. Where’s Ken?”

“Oh, he had to stay back at home. Well, he didn’t have to, he would’ve come if I asked him to. He’s really sweet. I just… I didn’t wanna be a burden.” You explain, grateful he hadn’t seen you crying like this now you think about it.

“But isn’t he, like, your boyfriend? I’m sure he wouldn't mind.” Sarah replies.

“Oh, he isn’t my boyfriend,” you giggle at the thought. “No, no, we don’t really do that in Barbieland. Everyone’s their own person and makes themselves happy, no need for boyfriends and girlfriends. Even the Kens!”

“Rad,” Sarah grins, liking the sound of Barbieland. “So… why are you here?”

You reply honestly, there’s no use in skirting around it anymore. “Well… I feel what you feel, Sarah. And when you’re sad, and lonely, I feel that too. That’s why I came, to help you feel better.”

“Oh.” It’s all she says.

“Why do you feel like that?” Your tears have stopped by now, your face left red and puffy. You try not to start up again as you watch her face twist at your question.

“Just… stuff. With my dad. He’s never here anymore, always at work. It used to be just me and him against the world, you know? And now it feels like… like it’s just me.”

You pout, rubbing a hand on her knee. “I’m sure he doesn’t mean it, Sarah. You always have each other, just like the watch says.” 

You smile, trying to be as comforting as possible, but it’s quickly wiped away by the look of shock on her face. 

You’re about to ask her what’s the matter when a southern drawl sounds from behind you, “how do you know that?”

You turn, facing Joel who stands on the steps of the porch, a hand on the railing. Your nerves set in again immediately, and you turn in on yourself, trying not to cry.

“Um, the watch, the one from Sarah. That’s what it says, right?” You can see that very watch strapped to Joel’s wrist, the glass broken, and he brings his other hand to touch it. 

“No one else knows what’s written on that watch,” Sarah says, and you whip around to face her, “holy shit, this is really, really real, isn’t it? You’re her?”

You just nod, and she lets out a laugh, springing forward to hug you. You yelp in surprise but hug her back immediately, revelling in the feeling of wet grass hitting your back. Sarah pulls away, looking up at her Dad with pleading eyes, “come on Dad, you know this is real. She’s real. We have to let her stay.”

You sit up again, grabbing your hat and standing, facing Joel though your eyes stay trained on the floor. He’s silent for a long time, thinking, before he grunts and you can just about make out a whisper of “fine” as Sarah celebrates and leads you back into the house.

♡❀˖⁺. ༶ ⋆˙⊹❀♡

You stay there a few days, mostly keeping out of Joel’s way. They set you up in the spare bedroom, but Sarah comes to get you most nights, and you stay up together having sleepovers and telling stories.

You tell her all about Barbieland, about the beautiful beaches and all-woman Supreme Court, the Dreamhouses and the perfectly blue skies. She tells you about her life, the latest drama at school, about Brad the boy who won’t leave her alone and Jenny, her best friend who definitely fancies Brad. It’s incredibly exciting, and you wonder why you never left for the real world sooner.

Barbara’s ecstatic for you, of course; she’s staying in a nearby hotel for as long as you need her there, you even plan to introduce her to Sarah soon.

You wake up one morning, covered in a duvet somewhere in the corner of Sarah’s room, a host of her other old toys laid out where she’d been explaining each one to you last night. You wondered if there’s a Thomas The Tank Engine Land, too.

There are voices downstairs, and for all the rules of politeness and social expectations you’ve learned, you can’t help but tiptoe to the top of the landing and listen in to the conversation. To make sure Sarah’s okay, more than anything.

“Oh come on, Dad. It’s just one day!” Sarah almost shouts, though it’s obvious she’s trying to keep her voice down. They both are.

“Sarah, I gotta go to work. How the hell am I meant to keep a walking-talking Barbie doll entertained for 7 hours, huh? You want me to talk about makeup and glitter?” Joel’s voice is thick and annoyed, though he’s noticeably gentler when he talks to her.

Sarah scoffs, and you can’t see her, but you know she’s rolling her eyes. “She’s more than that, Dad. She’s smart, and she’s caring. Just - just do this for me, okay? And as soon as I’m back from school, I’ll take her off your hands.”

You can’t see them, but you hear their footsteps walk a little closer to the stairwell. “Fine, fine. Whatever. You better go and wake her up then, cos I gotta leave in 20,” Joel resigns.

You see the top of Sarah’s head from your view between the bannisters, and quickly hurry back to her room and under the sheets. She enters, sitting beside your spot on the floor and whispering, “Barbie? Hey Barbie, wake up!”

You feign tiredness, lifting your head and smiling at the girl. “Oh hey, Sarah, good morning.”

She giggles, and you’re quickly aware of your bedhead, something you never experienced in Barbieland. She talks as you grab a brush and fix yourself up.

“So look, I gotta go to school today. But my Dad agreed to take you with him to work so you’re not on your own… is that okay?” 

She must see the slight panic in your eyes,  as she quickly scrambles to reassure you. 

“I know he was a bit of a hot head when you first met him, but he’s just… protective. But he’s sweet, really. Just give him a chance.”

You think about it for a moment. Barbara is still staying nearby, and you know she’d come and hang out with you while you wait for Sarah to come home if you asked. But then again, maybe it’d be good to spend some time with Joel/ It’s obvious that a lot of what brought you here comes down to their relationship, and if you can help to fix that even just a little bit, then your journey will have been worth it.

“Okay,” you answer, giving Sarah a small smile. She grins, standing up and grabbing her school bag before shouting over her shoulder as she leaves the room, “great! He’s going in 20 minutes… better get ready!” 

You gasp, jumping up from your little nest on the floor and searching through the duffel bag Barbara packed for you of outfits to wear, all western-themed of course.

♡❀˖⁺. ༶ ⋆˙⊹❀♡

Car rides with Joel are… awkward, to say the least. 

He drives in silence, no radio, just the slow drone of traffic outside echoing between you, whistling through the open windows.

His car is very different to the ones in Barbieland. It doesn’t have an open top, the seats are worn and rough to the touch. The smell of coffee and cigarettes hangs in the air, and though you’re not used to it, you still find it comforting. Safe.

You reach for the radio, looking for a tune to play and maybe even sing - you’re sure that’ll cheer him up. But he stops you, not hurting you at all but batting your hand away and finally taking his eyes off the road.

“Don’t touch that,” he grunts, and you shrink back in on yourself again. He recoils a little, like he’s trying to appear less aggressive, and refocuses on the road.

“Sorry,” you mutter, shy.

He shakes his head, resting his elbow on the window beside him and readjusting himself, clearly uncomfortable. Whether it’s you or just the way he’s sat, you don’t know.

“‘S fine,” he mutters, barely audible. You nod, unsure of what else to say after that. You’re not looking at him, though you can see his movements in the edge of your peripheral, and you’re certain you can see him glancing at you every couple of minutes.

He finally speaks again after a long span of silence. 

“So…” he starts, tentative. “Is it hard to get here? From- from Barbieland?”

You turn, though he isn’t facing you, eyes trained on the road. You keep looking at him anyway - this is progress at least.

“It’s pretty simple. First you drive, then you cycle, then take a boat, then a rocketship, then you stay in a campervan for a little while, then a snowmobile and voila! You’re rollerskating into LA.” You grin, recounting your adventure into the real world, happy to be able to share it with him. You’re not sure what it is about him, but there’s just something inside of you that’s desperate for him to get you. To care. 

Joel just grunts, rubbing his thumb and forefinger between his brows, and you’re worried for a second that he doesn’t believe you, again. But he doesn’t press, instead he seems to be thinking, and then he asks another question.

“How do you get back?”

“Gotta do all that in reverse,” you answer, giggling. You’re sure you can see the slightest pull of his lips, the hint of a smile, but it’s gone just as quickly as it appeared.

You decide to try and engage him, let him talk. “Do you like what you do? For work?”

He just grunts again, and your shoulders sink, giving up. He doesn’t want to talk to you. 

You decide not to press him further, but you can see him continue to glance at you a few times out of the corner of your eye, and there must be something in the air because he sighs before talking, a vulnerability in his voice.

“I used to. My Dad did it, contracting. Used to take me and my brother out every weekend and show us the trade. And when I started my business, that was good. Things were good. Now…” he trails off with a sigh.

“Things aren’t good?” You ask, trying to be careful. Trying to encourage him. 

He nods. “Things are different, now. Busy. It’s a hard business.”

You don’t reply, not because you don’t want to, but because you’re not sure how. Joel doesn’t seem to mind. After a few moments, he pulls up at a red light, switching gears and finally looking at you properly. 

“What do you do? In Barbieland?”

“Cowgirl,” you reply, being the one to avoid his gaze now.

“Cowgirl?” He repeats, and you only nod, offering a small smile and waiting for his reaction.

“So is that, like, on a ranch?” 

He’s switching gears again, cruising through the now green light and continuing the drive, muttering something about ‘almost there’ as you arrive in an upscale neighbourhood, lined with huge houses and cars that even the Barbies don’t have.

You shrug, self conscious, but you answer him. You owe him that. He did it for you. 

“No, just… you know. I wear the hat, and the denim and the boots. And I just… cowgirl. That’s what I do.”

He nods, and for the first time since you met him, you’re not nervous about what he’ll say next. You feel comfortable with him, safe even, and you’re not sure what it is about this little drive that’s flipped that switch, but you think he might feel the same way.

“Does it pay well?” He asks, a playfulness in his tone that you haven’t seen in him before. It’s like he’s lit up over the course of your conversation.

You grin, meeting his eyes properly now, where he draws away for a moment at a time to check the road but lets his gaze fall back on you straight after. 

“Better than contracting,” you sass. You’re not sure where the cockiness comes from, whether you’re matching his tone or you just feel that comfortable with him, and for a moment you’re worried you’ve offended him with the joke.

But then he laughs.

It’s not hysterics, but it isn’t an amused ‘huff’ either. It’s like a giggle, a bright, giddy laugh that spreads across his face and makes his eyes light up like stars in the sky. It’s beautiful. It’s sweet.

You tell him as much.

“You have a pretty smile.”

He slows a little, his mouth quickly reigning in its smile and his chest no longer bubbling with that sweetness it had before. But he doesn’t look angry, or offended. He looks as though he’s not quite sure what to do. Like no one’s ever told him that before.

“Thank you,” he whispers, the words quickly blowing away with the wind through the open window. You smile in reply, and he watches, neither of you seeming to notice that he’s stopped the car and you’ve reached your destination. Neither of you move.

And then he says the sweetest words you’ve ever heard. 

“So do you.”

It’s gentle, mumbled so lowly you almost think he doesn’t want you to hear it, and yet it hits you in the chest like a lorry. 

You’ve been told that before, of course you have. You’re a Barbie. Whether it’s the other Barbies complementing one another, or the Kens trying to flirt, or Allen just being the nice guy he is, you’ve heard those words before. 

But you’ve never heard them like this, like they’re hard to say, but they need to be said anyway. 

It’s powerful.

You smile again, so does he. You stay in the car a little while longer, in silence again, but it’s a silence laced with comfort and feelings you don’t know how to label. Until he finally breaks the spell, climbing out of the car and helping you out on your side.

He spends the day showing you his work, how to plan builds, how to measure up wood and mark all the right places to cut it. You learn there’s a key named after Allen, and Joel snorts when you tell him how excited you are to let him know that. He even lets you hammer a few nails, and you’d be lying if you said it didn’t make your heart flutter when he puts his arms around you to guide your movements, his breath in your ear.

And things are good after that day. Really good.

The three of you spend time together, as much as you can, almost like a family. You’ve never experienced family before, true family, but when you’re sat on the sofa with Sarah on a cushion on the floor and Joel to your side, just out of reach, you wonder if this is what it means to be home.

Of course, you quickly understand what Sarah means when she says she’s lonely. You know exactly where that feeling in your chest is coming from, because the times he’s with you are so fleeting, so far and few inbetween, that it feels like gold dust when you have him and like a black hole when you don’t.

And it’s only been a week before you realise just what it means, these feelings, and how they’re not like anything you’ve felt before.

Sarah reads you like a book, cornering you one day as you play dress up in her room. 

“So, you like my Dad?” She asks, a knowing smirk already painted on her lips.

You splutter for a moment, trying to think of a rebuttal, but you give up because you know she has you nailed down. You know she knows.

“Is it that obvious?” You wince, making her grin spread even further. 

“Only, like, all the time,” she laughs, and you flip down on the bed dramatically, making her laugh more. “You know he likes you too, right?”

You sit up again in a flash, eyes wide and searching hers. She raises a brow as you stare, your mind racing - she wouldn’t joke about that, would she? “How do you know?” You ask.

She rolls her eyes, taking a seat beside you on the bed. “Oh come on, man. It’s so obvious. He always talks about you, Barbie said this, Barbie did that’.” She mocks his deep southern drawl, making you giggle. “And he’s always looking at you.”

You blush - you’d be lying if you said you hadn’t noticed. You suppose a part of you just never let yourself believe he could feel the same way.

“What do you think I should do?” You’re nervous now, unsure of yourself. Unsure if this is real.

Sarah smiles, a cheeky sort of grin that doesn’t make you feel particularly at ease, and pats your knee with her hand. “Leave it with me.”

♡❀˖⁺. ༶ ⋆˙⊹❀♡

She calls you down that night, late, not long after Joel came home from work. You switch off the documentary you were watching, something about the animal kingdom, one that amazed you with all the creatures that walk the earth around you. 

You tiptoe down the stairs, calling out Sarah’s name when you can’t find her in the front room, confused. You hear her again, distantly, like she’s outside, and you follow the sound through the kitchen and out the back door, where you’re greeted with the alluring smell of a sizzling barbecue.

“What is this?” You ask, stepping fully outside and taking in the scene. The backyard, usually overgrown and unkept, is littered with fairylights that wrap around the patio columns and line the fence right down to the end. The Miller’s barbecue is fired up, with an array of vegetable skewers and sausages and burgers cooking on top, Sarah proudly stood beside it in her apron while Joel watches, concerned.

Joel. He’s sat at the little table she’s put together, a round glass one with mismatched chairs on either side. He’s dressed up - his hair looks neater than usual, like he’s put extra care into styling it properly. His shirt isn’t plaid, or denim; it’s a light blue colour that matches the brown of his eyes so wonderfully. He looks nervous.

“Hi,” he says, gentle and soft. Your eyes must be wide and confused, because he doesn’t say anything else, just looks at Sarah for support. She rolls her eyes - again - and puts down the tongs she’d been using to flip the burgers. 

“You two are so boring pining over each other. So, I’ve set up a date!” She grins, turning back to the food without a care in the world.

You nod, taking another step forward, looking back toward Joel and not bothering to fight the smile that spreads on your face. 

He doesn’t fight his, either. 

You reach out for the chair opposite him, but before you can, he’s standing up and pulling it out for you, his eyes meeting yours.

Not one of the Kens have ever pulled out a seat for you, you think, thanking Joel and sitting on the little chair. He returns to his own seat, clearing his throat and pouring you a drink; red wine, a new favourite of yours since he introduced you to it. 

Sarah plates up the food, setting it down in front of you in a dramatic waiter-style fashion. 

“You’re certainly my daughter, huh?” Joel asks, pride in his eyes as he looks at the food, which you have to admit looks pretty damn good.

“The student has become the master,” she quips, and your heart melts at the sweet moment between the two. 

“Now, you two enjoy. I’ll be in my room. If you need anything… get it yourself. The kitchen is literally right there.”

You and Joel roll your eyes as Sarah bows out, laughing at her own jokes and giving a final wave as she heads into the house, leaving you both alone.

“So,” you begin, unsure of what to say.

“So.” Joel mimics, though you don’t think he plans to say anything after that. He’s not one to initiate conversation.

But then again, people can change. 

“You look really nice,” he says, his eyes so heavy set on you that it makes you feel flush. You look down, at the old baggy top you’re wearing over grey sweats, and you’re suddenly self conscious compared to his nice shirt and carefully-put hair.

“I don’t,” you reply, embarrassed. “I look like a mess.”

He interjects immediately. “No. You don’t. How could you? I mean you’re literally - you’re -“ he can’t find his words.

You finish the sentence for him. “A Barbie.”

“Yeah.”

You’re not sure why it makes you feel the way that it does. Sad. Like you’re not quite real to him, a novelty. He sighs, and for all the time you’ve spent with him by now, you can’t read what’s going on behind the man’s eyes at all.

You sit in silence for a short while, enjoying Sarah’s food, drinking wine. There’s something hanging in the air, heavy and strange, and neither of you know how to address it.

It surprises you when Joel finally breaks the silence again. “Do you miss home?” He asks, pouring you another glass.

You think for a moment. You answer honestly. “I don’t know.” His eyebrow quirks, motioning for you to continue.

“There was a time when I’d have never even dreamed of leaving Barbieland. When I didn’t want anything to change. But things are different now, since Ster- since Barbara left. Everyone thinks differently, feels differently. It’s a very different place. And suddenly everything that made me love Barbieland doesn’t matter to me anymore. The perfect wardrobe, the perfect house, the perfect life. None of that matters. It’s the things here, in this world, that matter.”

“What things?” Joel asks, and it’s only now that you notice his hand has migrated across the table, holding your much smaller one. You wrap your fingers around his, revelling in the small squeeze he gives you, fighting back a smile.

You’re staring at your interlocked hands when you answer. “Family. Purpose.” 

You look at him. “Love.”

He breathes out, like he’s letting something go, something that made him scared but doesn’t anymore. You squeeze his hand.

The rest of the night goes smoothly. It’s sweet, comfortable. It’s nice. 

Until you put your foot in it.

“Do you still feel lonely?” Joel asks, the buzz of red wine making his drawl even heavier.

You smile, glossy eyes doting on him, hands still intertwined. “Well, I felt lonely because Sarah felt lonely. So… no. I feel good.”

Joel frowns, his head tilts. “Do you know why she felt like that?”

You’re not sure how to approach this with him. It’s something you’ve thought about, pondered for days, turned over and over in your mind with no good resolution.

You know exactly why she felt like that. She told you as much.

My Dad’s never here. He’s always away, working. I don’t see him.

But you also know it’s a truth he won’t accept. Not easily, at least.

“Well,” you begin, treading lightly. “I think she just… misses you, Joel. Misses her Dad.”

He’s confused. He pulls away from you, his grip on your hand loosens. “But I’m here.” It’s an assertion, challenging your suggestion.

“I know, I know. But you’re not… you’re not here. You come home from work late, you’re tired, you go to bed. You wake up and before we can even say ‘good morning’ you’re out the door again, going to work.”

His jaw flickers, in that same way it did when you first met. He’s angry. 

“I do what i have to do to support my family,” he grumbles, fully retracting his hand now. You feel the loss of his touch instantly, in your heart. 

That same loneliness sets in again, but it’s not Sarah’s anymore. No, it belongs solely, wholly, to you.

You try to placate him. “I know, Joel, I know. I get it. I just -”

“Just what?” He interrupts you, and you pause, scared to speak. Scared to mess this up.

“She needs you to talk to her. She needs you to listen to her. She needs you to hold her and let her know she’s not alone. She doesn’t see that right now, Joel.”

He doesn’t reply, just stares into space, arms folded. Guarded.

“I’m sorry,” you whisper.

“‘That how it works in Barbieland? Everyone gets what they want, everyone’s happy?” He asks, agitated.

You shake your head. “No, Joel, I-”

“‘Cos that’s not how the real world works, sweetheart. Everythin’ ain’t perfect. The trees ain’t made of cotton fuckin’ candy.” He sneers, mocking you, and the words pierce through you like knives.

“And I ain’t taking parenting advice from no Barbie doll.” 

That really, really hurts.

And it makes you angry, because for all your faults and weaknesses, being a Barbie certainly isn’t one of them.

“Why are you being so defensive?” You ask, your tone rising to match his. “You know I'm right. All that girl wants is her Dad, not a stranger who’s barely there, not a ghost that puts food on the table but won’t even come home on time for her. She wants her Dad, Joel.”

He stands, slamming his palms on the glass with so much force you fear it’ll shatter. He doesn’t shout, but his words are sharp, pointed, and they land exactly where he intended them to.

“You have no idea what it’s like. You’re stuck in your fantasy world, where everything’s pink, but you haven’t got a clue what it’s like to live in the real world. So why don’t you head back to your special Barbieland and leave the actual living, the hard parts, to the rest of us, huh?”

Tears threaten to spill on your cheeks, your eyes burning from the strain of holding them back. “Joel, you don’t mean that-”

“Yes, I do. Just… just get out of my house.” 

He walks away from the table, crossing his arms and facing away from you, staring out into the night. You nod, to yourself if no one else, breaking your strength as a sob racks through your body. You clasp a shaking hand to your mouth, not wanting him to hear you, but you see the way his shoulders clench. He heard. 

He doesn’t react further, though. Doesn’t turn. Doesn’t make sure you’re okay.

So you do what he said. You leave.

You stalk past Sarah, wiping away the onslaught of tears that have taken hold now, ignoring her as she shouts between you and Joel. “Guys? What’s going on?”

She doesn't follow you upstairs, choosing to give you space and speak to her Dad instead, you think. You text Barbara, asking her to pick you up, and shove your clothes into your bag as quickly as you can in spite of your blurred vision and the messy hair that covers your face. 

You’re not sure how long it’s been, you’d have only thought seconds if you didn’t know Barbara’s hotel was at least 10 minutes away, but you hear her beep the horn from outside and follows its direction.

Sarah’s waiting for you at the bottom of the stairs. You look down the hall, where Joel sits at the kitchen counter, arms still folded and head down.

“Please,” Sarah begs, “don’t go.” She’s crying, and it makes your heart hurt more.

“I have to.” 

You try to move past her, but she stops you, blocking the way with her body. “Sarah, I have to,” you repeat, choking on your own sobs.

“Why?” She shouts, hot tears staining her face. “My Dad told me what happened. You’re right. He’s wrong, he’s always wrong. He’s never here, but you are, and now you’re leaving me like everyone else. Like my Mom.”

Your nose scrunches. More tears fall. Your chest hurts. “I’m not your Mom, Sarah. And your Dad… he loves you. He loves you so much. Promise me you’ll remember that, okay? He loves you. I love you.”

She doesn’t stop you when you try to leave again. You all but run out the door, the once comfortable night air now painful as it hits your wet cheeks, ice cold. Barbara looks at you with more concern than you’ve seen her with before, more than when she discovered the Mojo Dojo Casa Houses, but you say nothing as you get in the car. You just stare straight ahead, and she drives.

♡❀˖⁺. ༶ ⋆˙⊹❀♡

“I’m so sorry, Barbie. I never thought it’d end like this.”

Barbara’s holding your hands, reluctant to let go. You don’t know when you’ll see her again. “It’s not your fault,” you reply, and it’s true. It’s not her fault. It’s yours.

“And it isn’t yours, Barbie,” she retorts, like she can read your mind. You just nod, unconvincing, but she doesn’t push it.

You hug her, for the millionth time since she took you home from Joel and Sarah’s house, since she flew back to LA with you. And now here you are, at Venice Beach with your roller skates on, going back to the place you’ve always called home.

So why does it feel like you’re going anywhere but?

“Thank you for everything, Barbara. I mean it.” You pull back, wiping a tear from her cheek and smiling the best you can, your own tears rolling down your face like the skaters behind you.

She smiles back, and though she doesn’t say anything, she doesn’t need to. You know she loves you. You know she’ll miss you.

And with that, you pull away, pushing on each skate until you’re rolling away from the real world and back into your own. Back where you belong, where you’re supposed to be. Where you’re actually wanted.

There are people pointing, laughing at you as you skate past them, but you don’t care. You haven’t cared about anything since last night.

You can see the snowscape ahead, the next part of your journey. Your next step towards Barbieland and a world of pink perfection.

A world that isn’t the same to you now.

You’re nearly there, about to switch skates for the snowmobile, when a familiar, desperate voice comes from behind you.

“Barbie! Barbie, wait!”

You brake, skates screeching on the ground, as you turn to search for him in the crowd.

And there he is, Joel, clinging to a ramp on the left side of the park with the most ridiculous pair of neon green roller skates you’ve ever seen.

“Joel?” You call, immediately rolling over to him when you realise how much he’s struggling. If you weren’t so filled with the joy of seeing him here, you’d laugh at the state he’s in; eyes wide and legs falling beneath him, clearly not used to roller skating. “What are you doing here?”

“I- I wanted to- jesus, if I could just stand up-” You giggle, and he shoots you a look, which just makes you laugh harder. You help him up, laying a gentle hand on his chest as he nearly falls again, your other hand clinging to his waist as he finally finds his balance.

He’s blushing, embarrassed, but there’s something else in his eyes as they finally settle on you and he sighs. “Barbie, I’m so sorry.”

You’re not sure where to look. At him, at your hands, at those ridiculous roller skates he’s wearing. Of course, you can’t pull your eyes from him, anyway.

“It’s - it’s okay. You were right anyway, I’m not-”

“No, no,” he interrupts, placing both hands on your cheeks and quickly stumbling as he loses his balance again without the support of the rail. You hold him, giggling as he almost brings you both down, though you manage to keep him upright and he laughs right there with you.

“Jesus, this is embarrassing,” he finally huffs, and your head falls against his chest. When you raise it again, he’s already looking at you, with those big brown eyes that you never want to forget.

“I wasn’t right. I was an asshole. A huge, insecure asshole.” You try to shake your head, to disagree, but he doesn’t let you. “Just let me say this,” he begs. You let him.

“You were right. I haven’t been there for her. I haven’t been the Dad she needs me to be. I’m just… I’m just scared. Of not being good enough. Of letting her down. So I work, and come home late, and leave early, and I convince myself it’s the right thing to do. But I’m hurting her. And I hurt you.”

There’s pain in his eyes, and it pains you as if they were your own. 

“I haven’t seen Sarah this happy in a long time,” he continues, resting a hand on your cheek again, carefully this time. “Barbie, I haven’t been this happy in a long time.”

You don’t know what to say. You take your hand from his waist, tentative, making sure the other one is stable on his chest. You place it over his where it rests on your cheek, folding your fingers around his own, and turning to press a gentle kiss into his palm. He mumbles something, you don’t hear what, but from the look in his eyes you think you know.

“Don’t go,” he begs. “Don’t - don’t go back there. I want you here. You belong here.”

You look into his eyes. You know he means it. 

And so you do the only thing that makes any sense in this moment. 

You kiss him.

You’re careful to keep him upright, but he seems to have stopped caring about that; instead both hands are on you again, frantic, holding you tight like he never wants to lose you again.

When you finally break the kiss, neither of you pull away from one another, your foreheads connected and breaths intertwined. 

“Okay,” you gasp, pulling on his shirt. “Okay. I’ll stay.”

Joel closes his eyes again, sighing in relief as you finally release your other hand, touching it to his neck and feeling the rapid pulse that beats against it. You’re holding one another so closely, so tightly, that there’s no way he can fall now.

“You’ll come back to Texas?” He asks, like he still doesn’t quite believe you.

You nod again, giggling at the joy that spreads on his face, though it’s quickly muffled when he kisses you again. And again, and again and again until you’re breathless and sweaty and no longer sure which of you needs help staying upright the most.

You help him turn, wrapping your arms around his waist and supporting him as you try to make your way back across the park, and only then do you see Barbara and Sarah stood to the sidelines, watching, smiling.

You realise Sarah has her phone out, pointed at her Dad, and you’re pretty sure Joel sees it too but before he can say anything, he slips again and falls flat on his bum on the floor, bringing you right down with him.

You gasp, cushioned by his chest and his protective arms around you, laughing hysterically as he groans and sits up. You watch as his face turns from pain into anger, his eyes fixated on something ahead, and you think you know what it is-

“Sarah! Delete that video right now!”

♡❀˖⁺. ༶ ⋆˙⊹❀♡

Tag list: @vickie5446 @skysmiller @none-of-this-makes-any-sense @letmehavemyfictionalmen

[mannequinreligi0n]

NSFW ALPHABET: DANTE

writing these is so funnnn. i lowkey want to make nsfw headcanons for their devil triggers, too, but we’ll see.

as always, thank you for reading and hope you enjoy !

yours, obscura

A = Aftercare (what they’re like after sex)

Dante is literally a lap dog. He’s the more needy one after sex - hands glued to your limbs, head buried in your skin. He’s a sensitive guy deep down, and he needs the reassurance that you’re not just gonna up and leave him after getting what you wanted. He’ll go as far to lay on top of you just to ensure you don’t leave the bed too soon.

He’ll of course make sure you’re okay after. He’s already got a drawer in his nightstand filled with snacks and water on hand to feed you, replenishing any nutrients he might’ve sucked out of your body. Big on post-sex cuddles and pillow-talk.

B = Body part (their favorite body part of theirs and also their partner’s)

Dante loves his arms, but more specifically: he loves your face when he flexes his muscles or lifts a piece of furniture without breaking a sweat. He walks around the house and office shirtless just to show them off.

If we know Vergil to be an ass man, it’s only right that his twin is a tits guy. I mean, we’ve seen Dante ogle at those adult magazines - the man loves a good rack. But with Dante, all tits are in fact created equal. Any shape, size, color - doesn’t matter. He’s grabbing them, squishing them, shoving his face in them. I think he also has a thing for thighs. Let him lay between them and he’s in heaven. He’s even offered you a crumpled five dollar bill to squeeze the life out of him with them.

C = Cum (anything to do with cum, basically)

This man is FILTHYYYY. You know Deepthroat by Cupcakke? Yeah, he’s blowin’ bubbles with sperm. No matter the gender, Dante is a fiend - begging to be covered in your release.

When Dante comes, it’s more of a dribble/gush, than a straight shoot of ropes. ‘The fountain of youth’, he calls it. Dante doesn’t care where it goes as long as you’re happy, though he’s partial to covering your chest in cum, watching it drip down only to lick it off himself.

D = Dirty secret (pretty self explanatory, a dirty secret of theirs)

Panty thief. ((God, I hate the word ‘panty’)). BUT IT’S TRUE. Your favorite pair will always go missing and sure enough, Dante has it either in a drawer at the office or stuffed into the inner pocket of his coat. It’s mostly for the reason you think, but he also keeps it for sentimental reasons. He’s a sentimental guy, after all. You two always squeeze in a good fuck before he leaves for a job, and he’s sure to swipe up the pair you wore that night as a reminder of you and what he’s fighting for, keeping it zipped up in the pocket by his heart.

E = Experience (how experienced are they? do they know what they’re doing?)

Dante ACTS like a Casanova, a real playboy, but in reality, he’s scared as hell of intimacy. He’s had a handful of one night stands and drunken hookups but they served more as distractions than actual points of experience.

F = Favorite position (this goes without saying)

Cowgirl, sideways 69, leapfrog (variation of doggy)

G = Goofy (are they more serious in the moment? are they humorous? etc.)

Laughter is necessary in the bedroom for Dante. His job is awful, his life is literally hell - he needs the light moments with you to unwind and remind himself that there’s more to life than killing and being miserable.

This man thinks he’s a comedian. He’s telling you a damn knock-knock joke, expecting you to say ‘who’s there?’ while your mouth is wrapped around him. This being said, Dante is excellent at reading a room. If the situation calls for more serious or passionate love-making, he can switch off his playful side for a while.

H = Hair (how well groomed are they? does the carpet match the drapes? etc.)

C’mon, we’ve all seen the man - he’s hairy. Soft silver hair starts at the stubble on his chin and goes allllll the way down to his damn ankles. Would probably be inclined to trim his nethers, if he was home more often or if you had a preference for it. Otherwise, it’s homegrown and all-American, babeeyyyy.

I = Intimacy (how are they during the moment? the romantic aspect)

Big ol’ teddy bear - kisses all over, sweet words murmured in your ear. Dante isn’t the most materialistic or showy lover, but he’ll make you feel like you’re the most prized diamond in the world. Takes his time with you, makes sure you’re comfortable and he’s doing everything right before he even thinks about getting off. Big on communication, wants you to talk him through it as he does to you. He’s not the most romantic man, but he’ll definitely do his best to keep you happy and loved.

J = Jack off (masturbation headcanon)

Dante will jack off if the wind hits him wrong. It’s an outlet for him. When he’s sad, angry, happy, whatever. He’s not all that good at expressing his emotions, so having a moment of release sort of helps him let go of whatever is on his mind.

K = Kink (one or more of their kinks)

Breeding, humiliation, edging, impact play, pet play. Anything where Dante can let loose and let his guard down. All of these are reciprocal - he’s a true switch. Loves to have you bent over his knee, hand marking up your ass as punishment one moment, to flipping the tables and having you walk him around the house with a leash.

PRAISE KINK. Dante is a glutton for your words. He’ll sit and pout til you tell him he’s a good boy, or how pretty he is. There have been multiple occasions where he’s come just from praise alone, cock twitching in the air as you whisper compliments to him.

L = Location (favorite places to do the do)

Really anywhere he can have you, doesn’t matter to him. He’s always busy, so he’s taking any chance he can get. The default is usually the leather couch in his office, since he’s there more than he is home.

M = Motivation (what turns them on, gets them going)

Dante loves a good sext. Send him a picture of you in an old band shirt of his or a message about how much you miss him, and he’s almost causing a five-car pile up on the freeway just to turn the car around as fast as physically possible.

Is also stereotypical in that if he comes home to you splayed out on the bed in a piece of lingerie, he’ll literally (and I mean, literally) tear his clothes off as he scrambles to you.

N = No (something they wouldn’t do, turn offs)

Sex for the sake of sex is borderline a no for him. If you two have been together for a while, it’s different, but if not, he’s not putting out. Not only does he have trust issues, Dante has a lot of insecurities and trauma. He’s not fucking someone just to watch them leave him - it hurts too much.

Dante’s a pretty easy-going man otherwise. If you’re happy, he’s happy.

O = Oral (preference in giving or receiving, skill, etc.)

I know I said Vergil is a munch, but man, so is Dante. But in a different way. Dante is a tease, and loves to get you riled up in the most mundane situations. He’ll be stationed between your legs while you watch a movie in the living room, lazily licking stripes just to keep you on edge, or squatted behind you as you try to cook dinner. He’s a nuisance, really, but there’s no use trying to shake him off. He’ll get whiny and huff around til you let him keep going.

Dante is more of a giver. He almost never asks for oral and usually dismisses it, unless you ask specifically. But if anything, it’s more for you than him, knowing how much you love to gulp down his seed.

P = Pace (are they fast and rough? slow and sensual? etc.)

Dante has a tendency to get a little too enthusiastic, unless he’s purposefully trying to play the long-game and tease you. He’ll try oh so hard to go slow for you, make it last, but he just gets too excited. He can’t fathom that someone is actually letting him fuck them, and damn, you look perfect underneath him. If he slows down at all, it’s only because he’s trying to have a sliver of self-control as to not come prematurely.

Q = Quickie (their opinions on quickies, how often, etc.)

Quickies are the norm for you two, not that Dante minds. Again, he’s often shuffling a lot so it’s rare that he can set aside a whole lot of time for you two. Any opportunity with you is fair game.

R = Risk (are they game to experiment? do they take risks? etc.)

I feel like it’s obvious that Dante is an adrenaline junkie. He loves the thrill of new things. He’ll go as far as his partner will take him, as long as it’s within reason and no one gets seriously hurt (or arrested).

S = Stamina (how many rounds can they go for? how long do they last?)

Back to back to back to back. The devil blood in him works overtime when he’s in the mood. Even if you’re wiped after two rounds, he’s pulling you back down by your ankles, asking you in that bedroom voice you love so much to give him one more, to show him how good and sweet you can be.

T = Toys (do they own toys? do they use them? on a partner or themselves?)

Dante is a big fan of toys. He’s holding a vibrator to you while he does paperwork, or he’s shackled to the bedframe with a gag and cage around his tip. Probably wouldn’t be all that experienced with them initially, but once you two are comfortable, he’s happy to acquire a good collection.

U = Unfair (how much they like to tease)

The most annoying, frustrating man you will ever let into your bedroom. Dante loves to tease more than he might even love fucking you. He’ll spend hours saying suggestive things, grabbing your ass, toying with your clothes, only to walk away and act indifferent until you beg him to give in. It’s borderline evil.

V = Volume (how loud they are, what sounds they make, etc.)

Dante never shuts the fuck up. Ever. Doesn’t matter what you’re doing, who’s on top, where you are - he’s either talking or moaning. He’s an extremely vocal lover. The neighbors have already put in two noise complaints from how loudly Dante groans and swears when you two are together.

Constantly in your ear, mumbling nonsense and praise. Whiny, loud, and obnoxious - and you wouldn’t have it any other way.

W = Wild card (a random headcanon for the character)

There’s no section here for top/bottom, unfortunately, so I’ll put this here: loves to get fucked as much as he loves to do it himself. Whether you got the parts, or you gotta use a strap for it, the man is more than happy to have his head pressed into the pillows as you ram into him. He’s a sloppy, whiny, needy bottom, and I’ll die by that.

X = X-ray (let’s see what’s going on under those clothes)

As with Vergil, Dante is not a small man. Only an inch shorter than his twin, he carries a lot of height. I think it’s canon (?) that Dante is not as big as Vergil in the meat department. I’m banking on a hard 7, soft 5. Grower, for sure. What he lacks in length is made up for in girth.

Y = Yearning (how high is their sex drive?)

It’s damn near incessant, even as he ages. Dante hasn’t honed in his devil side as much as Vergil, which means he has less control of his hormones. If he’s not too stressed, he’s constantly waiting for the next moment to get his hands on you.

Z = Zzz (how quickly they fall asleep afterwards)

Dante will literally pass out the second his head hits the pillow. He’ll stay awake for a bit to make sure you’re all good, but the second he lays down, it’s lights out. And he’s out for the entire night, snuggled into your side and snoring away til late morning.

[inosukebakugo]

Work Hard, Play Hard

Rengoku x Reader | cw: overstimulation, manhandling, dirty talk | 18+ | ~ 1.8k

Modern AU where Rengoku had a bad day at work but luckily he can take it out on you

Under the cut because I have literally no chill, enjoy!

The door to your apartment banged open and then slammed shut. From the texts you’d gotten through the day, you knew that your beloved had a rough one. Standing from where you’d been curled on the couch, you rounded the corner to see a blond head of hair wrestling to get his left shoe off. He tossed it in the general direction of the shoe rack before standing up straight with a huff. His shirt was half untucked already and his tie was loose. It was unusual to see your man in such a state but not unheard of. Sauntering up, you run your hands across his broad chest and pull his tie loose. 

“What’s wrong Kyojuro?” you purred and pressed yourself against him, trying to leach out some of the tension.

“Stupid fucking admin decisions, that’s what,” he spoke through gritted teeth before doing his best to relax his jaw. 

“Tell me what you need, handsome,” you cooed, your fingers trailing down his chest and circling around one of the buttons on his dress shirt. “Don’t think about that stupid job, I’ll give you whatever you want.”

“Whatever I want?” Golden eyes bored into yours as he watched you nod. “Seems a little leading when the only thing you’re wearing is one of my shirts.”

“I just want to help you relax,” you feigned innocence as you looked up at the tall man, gently undoing the buttons on his wrinkled shirt as you spoke. “You could easily ask me for something else but I thought this was a pretty good guess.”

“You’re damn correct.”

The strong man easily lifted you into his arms and pulled you in for a searing kiss. He carried you into the living room and sat you on the back of the couch. With his tongue in your mouth and his hands sneaking up under the tshirt to find that you were in fact naked, you decided to spur him on further and let out a whimper. Bruising fingers dug into your hips, pulling a gasp from you and making the man in front of you pull you back in. He stole all of your oxygen as your hands went to undo his belt. Instead of letting you help, Rengoku slapped your hands away and knelt on the floor. One of your legs was slung over his shoulder as his fingers began rubbing your clit. He hadn’t even bothered to push the shirt off of you, too eager to taste you.

“Kyojuro,” you moaned his name as your hands twisted in his hair. “Please.”

“Keep begging like that and I’m going to wreck you,” his voice was serious before his tongue was otherwise occupied.

His warm tongue began lapping at your entrance and clit. Every so often he would suck the sensitive nerves into his mouth and before long, one of his thick fingers began pressing at your hole. He kept it there, a mean tease and a threat all at once. Your whines grew more pathetic and he chuckled against the sensitive skin of your thigh. Teeth nipped at you as his finger plunged in. He stood again and made sure to hold you steady as he toyed with you. A second finger began to stretch you out and Rengoku’s lips and teeth assaulted your neck. Desperately, your nails clawed at his back as he fingered you open. His gentleness was slowly breaking away as his dick hardened. It wasn’t long before he had you coming and cruelly pulled his hand back to leave you clenching around nothing.

“Kyo,” you panted desperately. “Please, I’m not done.”

“Neither am I,” he flipped you over so you were bent over the back of the couch. “And I won’t be until you can’t walk tomorrow.”

“Then wreck me,” you challenged, saying anything to get him to give you what you wanted. 

He was thick and it felt like heaven as Kyojuro filled you. The stretch made your eyes roll back in your head, your hand touching your stomach just to see if you could feel him from the outside too. When you tried to reach further down to play with yourself, Rengoku shoved your hand away with a growl and slowly pulled out. He pushed back in and kept fucking you at a punishingly slow pace. You were nearly crying, begging him to fuck you as he kept you where he wanted you. His fat cock finally sat inside you again and you tried to push back, to get even more, when you heard him chuckle.

“This is your very last warning sweetheart,” his words were strained as he whispered them in your ear. “Last chance to take it back.”

“Make me into your cocksleeve, fuck me against the window, I don’t care,” you pleaded with him. “Please Kyojuro, I need you. It’s all I’ve been thinking about all day.”

“A personal sex toy does sound pretty good,” he purred in your ear.

Without warning, the blond began moving at a decent pace. It wasn’t enough and he knew it but Kyojuro wanted to see how far he could push you. Bent over the couch and unable to get much leverage, you were at his mercy. One of his strong hands pushed your leg up until your knee was on top of the couch too and the new angle made you gasp. A wicked smile stretched across Kyojuro’s face as he repositioned his hands. Digging into the plush skin of your thigh and hip, he begins truly fucking you.

“Fuck yes,” the words come out stuttered from how the strong man behind you is moving. His hips slapped against yours and the sound echoed through your living room. “You’re so deep Kyo.”

“Tell me how good it feels,” he orders you, a sharp slap across one of your ass cheeks accompanying it. 

“Your cock feels amazing,” you moan obediently, rewarded with a matching swat to your other cheek. “No one can fuck me like you do, Kyojuro.”

“Damn right,” he growled and reached around you to thumb your clit again. “Are you going to come all over my dick like a good girl?”

“Yes,” you gasp, your hands desperately gripping onto the couch cushions. “Yes, please don’t stop. It feels so good.”

“Since you said please.”

Between his fingers and the force of his thrusts, you were putty in his hands. He shoved himself as far in as he could and let you orgasm completely full. Your back arched almost painfully against Kyojuro’s chest as you came, his name on your lips. Before you could clear the black dots swimming in your vision, the blond captured your mouth with his. A smirk grew on his lips when he felt the leg you still had on the ground begin to shake. Still inside you, he pulled your knee off the couch so you could stand on both legs.

“Getting tired already?” he teased. “Get on the couch.”

You did as he ordered and watched in anticipation as he rounded the side of the sofa. Pushing you to sit in the corner, he pinned you down with his arms and laid down to eat you out for the second time. His fingers were rougher and more insistent but it wasn’t unwelcome. A third orgasm was building quickly from your lover’s skilled fingers. He knew what you liked and used it as a weapon against you in the best way. Before long, you were trying not to squeeze his head between your thighs as he made you come again.  Leaning up to kiss you, his face was sticky and your hands greedily went to his dick. He let you stroke it back to full mast before threading his fingers into your hair.

“Open,” he tapped at your lips with the head of his cock.

He didn’t even really have to say it. Eagerly, you opened your mouth and took in as much as you could. Hearing his small sounds of enjoyment only started making you wet again and as soon as Kyo felt like he had enough of your saliva, he pulled back. He knelt on the floor again before pulling you half off the couch. With his hands supporting your ass and your legs over both his shoulders, he pressed into you again. Another wicked grin stretched across his face as he watched you moan from just the tip of him. Reaching up to touch your own nipples, you lock eyes with your lover before he slams you down to the base of him.

“Holy fuck!” your moans are slowly growing into yelling. “Oh my god, yes Kyo!”

“Such a good whore for me,” he was panting as he hammered into you. “Taking everything I give you.” 

“More,” Even half numb and three orgasms in, you still found the strength to ask him for more.

“Ha!” he laughed as he watched your eyes roll back in your head again. Your walls fluttered and clenched around him as he kept slamming into you through your own orgasm. Nearly boneless, he was still fucking you ruthlessly. As your moans turned incoherent, he slowed and pulled out of you. Your weak whine was met with another chuckle from the blond. “I’m still not done with you yet.”

Strong hands pulled you down onto the floor with him and you pulled a throw pillow along with you. Shoving it under your cheek, you lifted your ass into the air and looked back at Kyojuro. You barely had time to wave your ass at him before he was on you again. It wasn’t hard to tell that this was his favourite way to have you and he wasted no time in stuffing his cock back into your used hole. The force of his thrusts knocked the air from your lungs and moved the two of you up the carpet. It burned your palms and knees but at least the pillow saved your face. Pain mixed with the feeling of Kyojuro chasing his own orgasm and you couldn’t help but weakly come below him again. With a cruel laugh, Kyojuro’s pace slowed as he reached for something. 

“You’re not done yet,” he tutted before you heard the buzz of what he’d turned on.

“You’re trying to get me to-ahhhhh oh my god,” your thought was cut off by the vibrator he pressed against your clit. “Holy fucking shit Kyo.”

“I’m not stopping until I get one more from you,” he grunted as he picked up the pace again.

It took Kyojuro all of five more minutes until he had you spasming on the floor, your mouth open but no sound coming out. For a moment it was like you couldn’t even see. The blond kept fucking into you but he let the vibrator go, slamming into you and chasing his own high. A few minutes later and he pulled out of you completely. Before he could even say it, you were waiting for him with your mouth open and you easily swallowed his cum. Sitting back, the man looked around the living room and chuckled to himself. You two had certainly made a mess.

[quannaix]

What is your experience with Animal Crossing?

Okay it has been literally over three months since you sent this so I apologise I just have a lot to say and wanted to enjoy going on about Animal Crossing.

My first was Animal Crossing Wild World, which I saved up for and bought, even pre-owned it was expensive for primary school me. I did not know much about the game and it was years before I realised that the copy hadn't been wiped so I'd walked into someone else's town. I'm guessing someone called George, since my town was named Egroeg. But by that point I'd been playing for so long I didn't want to wipe my progress. Also by then I had realised that he had upgraded Nook's to the highest version, which would have been hard for me to replicate because it involved playing multiplayer and I only had one other friend with the game. I really loved ACWW, and I spent lots of time playing it even though I definitely didn't understand a lot of elements of the game. My friend and I spend loads of time imagining things we'd love to add to the game, like if you could get a job (paying that loan off in shells is hard!) and I thought it would be cute if you could drive around in a little car that had a boot for extra inventory space (backpacks fill up a lot when things don't stack). I became best friends with Kiki in this game and when she moved I was so sad that I planted a tree where her house had been thinking that would stop another house taking her place (I was wrong, but it's the thought that counts).

I did get AC Let's Go to the City for the Wii, but never racked up many hours on that because being console based I'd have to find time when the family wasn't using the TV. I definitely prefer it as a handheld game.

I got given Animal Crossing New Leaf for my birthday when it released and I maintain this is best AC game. I still love it so much. I love that they introduced the mechanics of town design, most notably that Roost was a stand alone cafe and you got to choose where to place it!!!!! I think this might be around the time I first started following you (saxyplaya hehe) I assume because I found you from looking for QR codes for designs. I am still obsessed with so many of the QR code dresses people came up with. I think ACNL had the best balance of effort to output. Like it had these town design features but still took ages to do things. You had to grow trees from scratch and grow them again if you placed em wrong. This made everything feel more satisfying though, imo. You really put in the hours, and days and weeks, so the results would make me feel proud. I love that there are so many fruit tree varieties, I love visiting the island, I love that you CAN work at the Roost and that Brewster would give you coffee rewards. The updates they made with Happy Home Designer and the campsite, including adding the 'god mode' furniture design thing did make things a lot easier. But I like actually that to see anything you have to actually put it on/put it in the room, in your cupboards everything is just the generic category icon. I still have not caught all the bugs and fish in this game. I THINK I have all the fossils, but I think it makes it more fun for longer if it's not so easy to catch everything. I love the shopping street, and slowly unlocking the buildings. I love that little bench at the end of the street looking out. I think the music in this game is so lovely too, and one of my most favourite things is walking around on a rainy day in my town. I also actually loved that it was always the opposite weather hemisphere-wise, often I'd log in in irl winter so I could feel warm and vice-versa.

I also just love the graphics and look and feel of the game. The characters are still sassy and have a lot of personality. I always think fondly of my neighbour O'Hare, because his birthday is two days after mine. Now I could wax rhapsodic about ACNL al day but I should move on!

I freely admit I did obsessively play AC Pocket Camp for like a year or two when it came out (maybe longer??) to fill the void while I waited to see if there would be a Switch game. My partner also got me the original GameCube Animal Crossing for Christmas, which I played a little, but we don't usually have the GameCube set up and see above my preference of handheld play for AC. Still, a very cute present that I love having.

The second they Switch was announced, I said that I would be holding off on buying one until I saw if they put out a new AC game with a console to match. And I am SO glad I did because I was able to get the console and the game when they came out and I think the console is sooooo pretty. ACNH is really fun as well, I do like the addition of terraforming, being able to place furniture outside, and that they went really ham on the graphics. While I think I still have more of a soft spot for the older graphic style, I love things like the raindrops on the windows and the furniture blowing as the fan goes over it, etc etc those little tiny additions really melt my heart. I do feel like they smoothed out the characters too much, they don't have as much personality as they used to. And as much as so many things are easier (changing clothes, furniture, moving trees and plants, catching all fish/bugs and fossils) I think I preferred it when it was a bit more challenging. I wish the Roost was separate still </3. I loved the addition of Island Designer, I find that so fun, and I love the glowing moss furniture, and being able to design villager's houses (given that sometimes they start to look really dogshit after I've been gifting them my garbage furniture sorry guys). I don't send letters as much in this game as I used to, idk why exactly it just never seemed as fun or important in ACNH. I like the addition of cooking, more just because it tickles me personally. I'm back and forth on the crafting mechanism. I think overall I like it, and in many ways it's a return to the challenging aspects I just went on about loving in the previous game in terms of it being an involved process (esp if you want to change the colours), but I think that tools breaking SO fast annoys me and that even gold tools break annoys me heaps. Overall I do still enjoy ACNH, and I'm actually glad that it introduced the game to a whole lot of new people because it's widened the audience of people I can ramble about AC to. I do wish I had gone with the other hemisphere weather, I went back and forth on that and I discovered I actually prefer it NOT aligning with my real life weather so it can serve as an escape.

Thank you for asking me this question, in case you can't tell I love talking about Animal Crossing it is definitely one of my favourite game series of all time <3

[toska-writes]

Hellooo just wanted to ask for a 2nd part to endure

Everyone and their mothers were asking for a second part so here it is!

“Survive”

Read the first part here (☆)

Summary: the second part of “Endure” continues when Wolffe is trying to crack a plan to hopefully help those that mean most to him

Paring: Commander Wolffe x GN padawan reader (Platonic)

Warning: mentions of blood, wounds, broken bones.

Word count: 1254 (not proof read sorry!)

Notes: do you guys like the subtle change in POVs in my fics or when it’s obvious the change?

Good soldiers follow orders.

So why did Wolffe’s hand shake as he watched your unconscious form shake ever so slightly. What stoped him for doing his job?

A cough startled him slightly from his stare, dust filled the room once again and the layer of smoke near by would have made his eyes water if his helmet wasn’t in place.

Good- good solders follow-

Another sickly cough was let out. Wolffe peaked in further blaster still outstretched. Your eyes tried desperately to clear your vision but it was not use.

A pain like no other shot through your arm as you sickly realized you couldn’t move it. Something pinned in down but even thinking about moving to look was too much.

Through the haze a figure seemed to loom at the only light source you could just make out. A buzzing rang throughout your ears and you only wished to deafen it in some way.

Fear racked your body when the figure you thought you saw seemed to disappear, you could barley remember what happened. The only thing left seemed to be the haunting image of your own ships shooting you down.

One thought raced through your mind: what could have happened to Wolffe? He wouldn’t have let this happen, none of them would but Wolffe always knew what to do. In the war you envied him for it.

Something had to have happened to Wolffe, if he was hear with you he could help like all the times he’s done it before. If you could find Wolffe maybe you could get out alive.

Good soldiers-

Wolffe could see the daze in your eyes. The way your you literally pinned down. He watched the struggle for a moment as you tried to turn and push a piece of debris off of your arm.

He took a step forward, his mind shifted from buzzers and warnings telling him to help, and another that was the calm at the center of the storm. In that one he felt almost nothing.

Maybe that’s what scared him. Wolffe staggered back for a second, his free hand ripped his helmet from his head as his senses screamed in protest. His hand cupped the side of his head while searing white pain was all he could think about.

Good sol-

His eyes cleared for a moment, blaster along with his helmet hit the floor. Covering his face with an arm Wolffe started to climb through the rubble to you.

Fluttering eyelids were the only things that met when Wolffe shook you slightly. The slight move of your lips caught his attention as he started to rip away at the rubble holding you down.

All in an instant an arm grabbed out to the center of his chest plate freezing him in his tracks. The eyes of his commander met his own with fear etched in to every crevasse.

A small voice whispered in the back of his mind to find the blaster, that he didn’t finish the order he was given. What sent a shiver down his spine was knowing that the voice was undoubtedly his own.

“I knew you’d come.” The scratchy voice filled his ears and all others were silenced, hopefully for good. “What happened?” A sob threatened to break up your words while Wolffe started to move again.

“I- I don’t know.” Wolffes voice shook violently taking in the sight he just uncovered. The arm was definitely broken but a medic wouldn’t be able to help this time.

Taking your opposite arm he braced moving to sling it over his shoulder. He could hear the pained gasps trying to lift you up more. Your leg gave out slightly making you crash into Wolffe.

He didn’t know what to do, not this time. They couldn’t possibly use his own fighter to leave the atmosphere. Not while there was barley enough room as is.

They needed a bigger ship, something he could get you safely into. But that means getting back to the hanger and the odds were against them.

“Wolffe-“ the word was sparse and barely heard when the pair started to trudge back into the lights of the setting sun.

It was only then when Wolffe looked down at you, the orange sun colors your skin softly and the dying light wasn’t helping anything.

Blood was on the side of you robes, all over the arm that was cradled at your side, and by the opposite leg.

He did that- the pain was back and he fought all urges to double over in the very moment.

“Wolffe your hurt.” You whispered looking up at the man with a gaze that shifted in and out.

“My concerns is on you right now.” He spoke with a gruff coming back to his ship, only a few more steps.

He watched the daze clear for a second like the sun peaking out on a cloudy day.

“I’m scared. And I don’t know what to do.”

Wolffe’s heart caught in his throat. You were both helpless. As soon as his men saw what has become of him the Jedi wouldn’t be the only traitor among the ranks.

They both were scared.

A plan formed in Wolffe head, glancing over once he wondered if it would even work or if it would implode upon impact. They didn’t really have a choice, trying anything would be better than nothing.

“The base isn’t far.” He started. The memory of all the briefings flooded back to him slightly. “I can walk and get supplies, maybe even a ship and we can fly as far away from here as possible.”

Being a commander taught Wolffe to map out all possible outcomes for every plan he ever made. However dwelling on most of the outcomes he could think of made his stomach churn.

Most didn’t end up well.

“I can come with you.” You breathily spoke looking up to the man.

The helmet he grabbed on the way out positioned itself back in his head and the blaster landed on his hip.

“You can’t stand on your own.” Wolffe said bluntly pausing to take in the trek in front of him.

But what if- what if something happened to him leaving you stranded, or while he was gone you were taken from him. What if-

Wolffes eyes darted back and fourth, anxiously trying to find some way this could all be a twisted dream. You didn’t know it was him, could he even tell you? Putting so much trust in the man that did this to you.

You only looked up at him slightly waiting for him to make up his mind.

“You’re staying by me, we can figure out where to hide you when we get closer, and what to do about-.” He couldn’t bring himself to say brothers. They were both of yours families.

“Maybe we could save them.” The hope plagued your words. “They couldn’t have done this themselves.

That’s what Wolffe was worried about, what if he was in his right mind, if they all were, when they shot down the general and commander they fought the entire war with.

Good soldiers are loyal. Loyal to the ones they stand besides and the ones that protect them in the same way they do.

He was a good soldier.

Both commanders made they’re way in the direction of the base, Wolffe wasn’t sure if he was ready or if he could even protect you.

What if he snapped again?

Good soldiers follow orders.

_____________________________________

Taglist: @arctrooper69 @thereforepizza @padawancat97 @pb-jellybeans @floffytofu @verybadatwriting @solstraalaa @ray-rook @ct-0113

[hillbilly---man]

what is your favorite part of a grocery store to organize, and why? i wonder if people who do your job like giving the best spots to their favorite foods or if it’s like, the size of something that makes it more or less a pain in the ass

Ahhh I love this question!

[To clarify my job in case anyone is new here or confused: I sit at a computer in an office and design planograms, the diagrams that grocery stores use to stock their shelves and standardize where items go]

At work, I've got several sections assigned to me (box dinners/mac & cheese, baking needs, Asian, flour/meal/coatings, sugar, pasta sauce, and a whole bunch more). So whenever it's time to redo one of those sections, either as part of a whole store remodel or to cut in a new item... I get to do it.

It's hard to choose a favorite section. I like doing the bottled juice section because there are always things getting removed and added. It's more interesting when I get to change the products! Box dinners are fun too for the same reason.

I also had to create a huge Asian aisle for a store several weeks ago and that was kind of fun.

We had some existing planograms for Asian foods, but nothing nearly as big as what this one particular store was asking for. It was a lot of work (I have to pull the list of all the Asian items from the warehouse, run the sales numbers, pick the products based on high sales and variety, decide where on the shelves the items go, and then send for approval)... But it was fun having that kind of creative control. Most of what I do is finding space for a new flavor of cheez-its so it's a big change.

For similar reasons, I also really like when I get instructed to do one-off special displays. I had to design planograms for a Tampico rack and a new bread aisle recently.

I don't normally get to favor things I like when designing the planograms, sadly. Usually they want certain brands to be in a certain place: the store brand along the right/bottom, the most popular brand often eye level and to the left, premium stuff in the middle and to the top. But every section is a little different. Sometimes, if two items are the same brand and have similar sales, I might give the one I prefer an extra facing though. 😈

[Quick definition: A "facing" is basically an instance of an item on the shelf. For example, if you're looking at the soda aisle and there are two rows of 2 liter orange fanta (which would look like two bottles sitting next to each other, with several lined up behind them) that's two facings]

Sizes are a pain in the ass! If I have a lot of products and a very small section (4 feet is our standard "small" size) then it's so hard fitting them in there. We are supposed to make sure there's at least one full case worth of product on the shelf at a time, which is tough when items are bulky or come in huge cases. This is why sometimes I'll joke that I'm the only person in the world happy about shrinkflation; when these companies make their packaging smaller it makes it easier for me to fit more products in the planogram.

On the flip side, if a planogram is HUGE (24 ft is a big one we have often) and I don't have very many items... It's easier but a different challenge. Sometimes I have to try to find items that would fit there. For a while, we had Yoo-hoo in our juice boxes section because there was so much space and the warehouse quit stocking a bunch of Capri-sun flavors. I guess I can just give everything a ridiculous number of facings, but that's lazy and it looks bad. Plus, if the products don't sell well you run into the problem of them expiring because the stores have to stock too many to fill the shelves.

This got really long lol. You can tell I'm really into this stuff hahaha

[playerappreciationweek]

Thank you for filling out the interest check! Player Appreciation Week 2023 is coming! More information under the cut!

The week we’ve decided to share our works is March 19-25, 2023.

Day 1: “Friendly advice? Save the sightseeing for after the job.”

Day 2: “You can call me…Player.”

Day 3: “Who’s laughing now, Troll?”

Day 4: “I’m happy here in my dark little cave.”

Day 5: “For Carmen’s safety, right?”

Day 6: “Let me guess, ninja disappearing act?”

Day 7: “I’m not going anywhere.”

Alt 1: “Get ready to rack up more frequent flyer miles.”

Alt 2: “We’re old friends. From her school days.”

Alt 3: “White hat hacker’s code.”

For prompts, various quotes of Player throughout the series have been chosen. These prompts can be taken as literally or figuratively as you wish! You can discuss the scene in which Player says the line, or you can use the essence or feeling of the quote to create something! As a reminder, current WIP or new works will all be accepted provided they follow the event’s guidelines.

Three alternative quotes have been provided to be used in place of any of the primary prompts should you choose.

The full rules and guidelines can be found here!The event is Gen only, so no romantic ships, even if they’re just in the background. The works should also be Player centric. Posting will be on Ao3 and here on Tumblr for all other mediums. Also be sure to tag your content appropriately!

Any questions can be asked here on the blog, or to moderators @Rueitae and @Sakarrie . There is also a discord server available for brainstorming assistance. Please DM one of the mods for an invitation if you are interested. Participation in the event is not required to join.

We are looking forward to creating with you!

We look forward to creating with you!

We are looking forward to creating with you!

We look forward to creating with you!

Any questions can be asked here on the blog, or to moderators @Rueitae and @Sakarrie . For brainstorming help and fun, we have a discord server available as well, just ask one of the mods for an invitation ! Event participation is not required to join.

We are looking forward to creating with you!

[tobiasdrake]

On that note, I think now is a good time to talk for a bit about Maki Harukawa and the challenges she introduces.

Maki is a walking enigma. She's a mystery wrapped in a question mark shaped like twin-tails. Her lab compounds that mystery. That sure is a hostile looking door for the Ultimate Child Caregiver, isn't it? And while we're all out and about checking out everyone's labs, why is she standing guard at hers to block anyone from peeking in?

Well, if you did look inside, you would find racks upon racks of deadly weapons. Assault rifles, grenades, pipe bombs, knives, anything you need to kill whoever you want dead in the most efficient way imaginable. Because Maki is the Ultimate Assassin.

I do not envy her during the course of 3-2, before her secret comes out. Can you imagine being effectively handcuffed to this door to ensure no one ever finds out your secret? Maki did not have a very good week.

In any case, Maki's effectively V3's take on Tokojack. ...well, one of, but we'll get to him. Oh boy. We will get to him. But for Maki, it feels like lessons were learned. I said back in DR1 that the MPD thing was not only offensive but unnecessary; You could just as easily write Toko as secretly being a serial killer, without having to make her out as a harmful stereotype.

Maki Harukawa is that character. A member of the group whose unassuming Talent masks her true, less savory Talent as a murderer. Someone whose murderous true Talent creates tension in the group when it's discovered. But despite being instantly suspicious the second you know, she never kills anyone over the course of the entire game.

Though not for lack of trying and oh boy is that going to be awesome.

But as I've said before, there's a tension in V3 between the "reality" of the Killing Game and the true reality underlying. With Maki, it's not so much a tension between character and actor, but a tension between character and in-universe writing. Her existence undermines the plot. Because. Well. Tsumugi's not a very good writer, as we've discussed before.

So, according to Tsumugi's script, these kids are literally the last survivors of humankind. A catastrophic meteor shower destroyed the Earth, not only killing off mankind but collapsing the biosphere and making the planet uninhabitable. I think Tsumugi played Horizon: Zero Dawn and enjoyed it immensely.

So, these kids were selected to journey through the stars to a new planet, right? Ignoring the fact that sixteen is not a stable breeding population, we can start to see their utility.

Gonta's Entomology lab is for saving species from the apocalypse. There's probably all kinds of gene samples and cloning shit on the ship somewhere too. Astronaut Kaito's here because we're literally in space and should have someone who knows what he's doing. Inventor Miu's here to design tech. Maid Kirumi's here to keep everyone fed and clothed and clean. Etc. etc.

But. Then you run into the problem of Maki. As a colony ship, an Ultimate Child Caregiver seems vital. But an Ultimate Assassin? There are sixteen people left in the world and the sole job of one of them is to murder the other fifteen? What? That makes no sense, Tsumugi. Why would Maki Harukawa ever have been put on this ship?

It would make sense if she smuggled herself in, like Junko and Mukuro slipping into the group in DR1. But. Uh. NOPE, her lab is filled with deadly weapons she can use to murder the other survivors so that's not it!

Honestly, it feels like this was a last-second throw-in. Like Maki really was supposed to be Ultimate Child Caregiver but then Tsumugi got the idea to make one of her characters a secret assassin. Like, Genocide Jack was a funny character, let's do that again! And then she threw that in there without thinking about what it would do to the integrity of her worldbuilding.

From the perspective of a Killing Game, a character who can be outed as secretly ultra-dangerous is a lot of fun. But Maki's existence shatters the entire premise of the reveals that Tsumugi's trying to build up to.

[taedeco]

𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐬𝐞𝐜𝐫𝐞𝐭𝐬 𝐨𝐟 𝐄𝐛𝐨𝐧𝐦𝐨𝐨𝐫 - 𝐏𝐫𝐞𝐯𝐢𝐞𝐰

about the characters. masterlist. chapter 1.

Synopsis: When Huening Kai is running away from his terrible past, he finds himself stumbling upon a, rather small, village. This is where he crosses paths with Choi Soobin – a mysterious man with many secrets, quite... literally. Soobin works in the village as a pawnbroker but he doesn't only trade and sell valuable items in his shop.. It might be a small village but the people of Ebonmoor have a lot to hide. But then so do Choi Soobin and Huening Kai.

Genre: fantasy, historical fiction, mystery, txt au of the Black Book of Secrets Warning(s): not really anything? well, kai calls soobin sir? only proofread once so there might be mistakes.

do let me know if I missed any!

Wordcount: 644

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *. ☽ .* :☆ ﾟ｡ ･ ───

"Huening, will you take out the book, please?" Soobin said as he took off his cloak and slowly sat down in his chair.

"Ofcourse, sir", Kai hurried to get the black book from under his pillow.

"So, what brings you here today?" Soobin asked looking at the woman in front of him and signaling her to take a seat. You could see the nervousness on her face from a mile away. She was hesitant as she placed herself in the chair straight across from Soobin.

"I heard about your bussines, Mr. Choi"

"My bussines, you say? What exactly did you hear?" He answered, leaning forward in his chair, his gaze never leaving the woman's eyes.

His gaze was intimidating but it also felt safe, trustworthy even. It made you feel like you could tell him your deepest darkest secrets, even if he was a stranger.

Kai returned with the book and made himself comfortable at the table behind Soobin, waiting for his signal.

"I heard," the woman paused for a moment, not sure if it was okay for her to say this out loud. Soobin gave her a reassuring nod, signaling for her to continue.

"I heard you trade in secrets" She whispered, Soobin wouldn't have heard it had he not been paying attention to her every movement.

He turned around to face Kai for a moment, nodding at him. Kai understood immediatly, he flipped the pages of the book to find an empty one and got his pen and ink ready as he waited for the her to start speaking.

"I see," Soobin said as he turned to face the woman again. "You have heard correctly, dear."

The woman smiled, a sense of relief washed over her as she realised she would soon be free of her sin.

"I assume you'd like me to help get rid of your secret, hm?" Soobin crossed his legs, waiting for her to start her story.

She nodded in response, taking a deep breath before beginning her confession.

"My name is Sara Greene and I have a most dreadful confession.."

────────────────

Kai stretched his arms before laying down the pen and placing a piece of paper between the pages so the ink wouldn't smudge.

"I must thank you for your confession Ms. Greene" Soobin said as he stood up from his chair, reaching out to shake her hand.

"Oh, no..I must thank you Mr. Choi. You have relieved me of my burden." Gratitude filled her voice as she shook his hand.

"It is my job after all. And as promised, here is your payment." He said, handing her a small bag of coins.

"I wish I could repay you for helping me, but I don't know how"

"You already have, dear, by entrusting your secret to me" Soobin replied, guiding the woman back to the door of his shop.

"Now, it is time for you to return home" He opened the door for her as she took her jacket off the coat rack.

"Thank you, again, Mr. Choi" She said, shaking his hand once more. Soobin gave her a smile in return and watched as she walked down the path to the village market.

He closed the door, a sigh leaving his lips. "Huening?" Soobin looked around the room to find the younger boy.

"You called for me, sir?" Kai said as he turned from around the corner of his room.

"Did you get everything?" Soobin asked as he took place at the table Kai sat at before, filling one of the cups with tea.

"Yes, sir. Everything" is all Kai replied before taking a seat in front of Soobin.

"Very well," Soobin looked up at the boy. "And the book?" He questioned, taking a sip of his tea.

"I've already put it back in its place, sir" Kai answered, debating whether he should've let Soobin read it first.

"Great work, Kai, I knew you'd be suitable for the job" Soobin said as they made eye contact. Kai smiled softly at his remarks, knowing they were genuine.

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *. ☽ .* :☆ ﾟ｡ ･ ───

taglist (open): @mazeinthemoon

[whatsk-poppinhomies]

I don’t usually rant about personal life in posts unless it’s literally shit but OH MY GOD MY JOB IS LITERALLY SHIT

So, tomorrow will by my 5th week working there. Literally only been there a month +1 week. I’ve dealt with the rush of the holiday season, I’ve already dealt with most of the bullshit that comes with the job… OR SO YOU’D THINK

NOPE

TURNS OUT THE BULLSHIT THAT COMES WITH THE JOB ARE THE FUCKING EMPLOYEES THAT I HAVE TO WORK WITH (aside from 3, the 3 that are excluded are literally angels, I’m so grateful for them)

MIND YOU, I WORK IN A BAKERY, I MAKE FUCKING DONUTS

OKAY, SO I’VE ONLY BEEN THERE A MONTH BASICALLY AND HOW THE FUCK DID I GET BUMPED TO BASICALLY SECOND BEST EMPLOYEE

AND I KNOW, SOME OF YALL MIGHT BE SAYING “thats a good thing”

ITS NOT

ITS AN AWFUL THING

BECAUSE BEING THE SECOND BEST EMPLOYEE MEANS THAT I RARELY EVER GET TO WORK WITH THE FIRST BEST EMPLOYEE BECAUSE I WORK ON HER DAYS OFF

AND I GET SCHEDULED WITH THE EMPLOYEES THAT WANT TO DO FUCK ALL AND THINK EVERYTHINGS A DAMN JOKE

I COME IN EARLY. I COME IN AN HOUR EARLIER THAN I HAVE TO JUST TO GET SHIT SET UP FOR THIS PERSON AND THEY STILL MANAGE TO HOLD SHIT UP

BUT NOOOO ITS NOT HOLDING SHIT UP FOR THEM. ITS HOLDING SHIT UP FOR ME.

I HAVE TO FRY THE DONUTS, I HAVE TO CUT THE SPECIAL DONUTS FOR TOMORROW NIGHT. ALL THIS PERSON HAS TO DO IS DECORATE AND CLEAN THEIR AREA. BUT THEY CANT EVEN DO THAT!

THEY TAKE 2 HOURS TO DECORATE 11 TRAYS. ITS NOT A LOT, AND MOST OF THE TRAYS ARE THE SAME DAMN THING. AND THEN THEY HAVE TO TAKE A BUNCH OF BATHROOM BREAKS, AND THEN SMOKE BREAKS, AND THEN THEY WANNA FUCKING EAT ALL THE TIME.

I FINISH FRYING, AND I HAVE TO CLEAN THE FRIER, CLEAN THE GLAZER, WASH THE DISHES, AND THEN THEYVE GOT THE NERVE TO TELL ME THAT I SHOULD CLEAN THEIR AREA TOO SINCE THEY HAD TO “do everything”

MIND YOU, THEIR AREA IS LITERALLY A TABLE THE LENGTH AND WIDTH OF TWO BASIC SCHOOL DESKS PUSHED TOGETHER… AND THEY MANAGED TO MAKE IT LOOK LIKE A BOMB WENT OFF

SO I FINISH CLEANING ALL THAT

ALMOST FORGET THAT I STILL HAVE TO MAKE THE TWISTS AND TAKE THE TRASH OUT

I ASK THEM IF THEY CAN AT LEAST CLEAN THE FLOOR (sweeping and mopping)

THEY SAY “i’ll sweep, you can mop”

AS IF I DONT ALREADY HAVE ENOUGH TO FUCKING DO

I STILL HAVE TO PUSH THE DONUT RACK TO THE WALK IN FREEZER, AND THE DOUGH, AND FINISH THE DISHES, AND FILL THE DONUT BOX FOR TOMORROW MORNING, AND I STILL HAVE TO TAKE OUT THE TRASH, BREAK DOWN THE CARDBOARD, AND I STILL HAVE TO FUCKING MOP

MEANWHILE THEY GOT TO GO HOME EARLY AND I WAS THERE UNTIL 12AM

SO IF SOMEONE EVER TELLS YOU THAT YOURE ONE OF THE BEST EMPLOYEES THEY GOT… GET THE FUCK OUTTA THERE. BEING A GOOD EMPLOYEE ONLY MAKES THE EMPLOYER AND THE OTHER EMPLOYEES THINK THEY CAN TAKE ADVANTAGE OF YOUR UPSTANDING WORK ETHIC AND HOMIES DONT GET PAID ENOUGH FOR THAT SHIT

(I’m sorry I haven’t been writing a lot, I’m just exhausted and I barely get days off. I’m so sorry!!)

[aancunin]

Tav's idle glass-washing paused as he eyed the vampire curiously, attempting to gleam his intentions.

Flirting? Possibly.

Spilling words he'll regret tomorrow because he's drunk? Tav glanced down at the glass in Astarion's hand; probably not, unless the elf had an embarrassingly low tolerance to alcohol, which he doubted was the case.

Tav did quite enjoy the stranger's company, it was a considerable improvement to his usual clientele barking their orders at him and otherwise pretending he didn't exist, though he didn't necessarily mind that either. People watching was a hobby of his; of course, he only picked up the passtime because he had gotten bored standing in the same place for hours, but at least it made the hours go by faster.

Another moment of hesitation, but his guest's velvety voice convinced him. He set the cup he had been tending to on the bar and threw his hand towel over his shoulder as he turned and examined the racks filled with bottles that rested against the wall behind him. He settled on a red, Baldur's Grape. He thought the name was so hilarious he made himself sick when he was sloshed several years ago, and the memory, albeit embarrassing, made him chuckle, and the taste wasn't too bad either. He poured himself about a half glass and sent a silent prayer to any gods listening that his boss didn't wander in as he raised his glass to his lips, though before he took swig, he asked, "What's your name?"

♥️ Tavernacle

“Astarion.” he said curtly to the question. Amused that the other had finally caved and did what was requested. Although it wasn’t out of malice he was trying to get the other to drink. In a way, he felt a sort of pity that the other insisted on keeping busy even when there was quite literally nothing to do. Spare for breathing and maybe staring at a wall, listening to the spawn drone on and on to fill in the silence with his voice.

“If I recall correctly it means “little star”. My parents gave it to me fondly, however, I sadly do not the full reasoning behind it. So there’s no cute little story to go with it, which is unfortunate. It seems to make a name more interesting.” he laughs, taking another sip of his glass. His eyes flashed with a sort of tired pain before disappearing behind the rim of his chalice briefly as it raised upwards.

“So, Tavernacle, surely being a innkeeper wasn't your first choice of a job. How’d you end up here?”

[beginningofwonderland]

Falling Hard - Seonghwa

Pairing: coworkerSeonghwa x reader

Genre: smut (MINORS DNI!)

Content warnings: oral sex (female receiving), fingering, unprotected penetrative sex (be safe bitches!), petnames (baby, babygirl, beautiful), table sex, it's actually rather soft

Words: 3.7k

Summary: In your new job at a cafe you end up falling for your coworker Seonghwa in a more literal sense than you had expected.

────── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: .☽ . :☆ﾟ. ──────

When you started your new job at the cafe there was one thing you noticed more than anything: Your handsome coworker Seonghwa.

It was almost impossible not to notice the man with his smooth honey skin, the silky dark hair and especially those deep eyes. Whenever he looked at you it felt like he was looking directly into your soul.

You only shared a few shifts a week but you soon realized that the mysterious man was actually quite reserved. He never talked more than necessary and politely reclined all the girls that asked for his number while they ordered a coffee for just that purpose.

At first you were a little disappointed that he wasn't more talkative but you soon learned to appreciate his unique charms. He was very kind and helpful whenever you were working together. If the milk was getting empty he fetched a new palette so you wouldn't have to carry it. Whenever you were looking for something he handed it to you quietly after noticing your struggle.

You always accepted his help with a warm smile but you couldn't stop your heart from fluttering a little every single time. That fluttering sensation kind of escalated one Friday afternoon when you were working together.

Seonghwa's shift finished earlier than yours and he went to the back to collect his things. When you noticed that the vanilla syrup was empty you hurried back to get another bottle only to be startled by a more than heavenly sight.

Seonghwa was changing his shirt in the storage room. His back was turned towards the door and you were sure he didn't notice you as he continued to put a dress shirt over his previously naked torso.

You left as soon as you came in to avoid him noticing you and the following awkwardness. But after you had had a view on his glistening skin and the muscles that played underneath, you couldn't think about your coworker the same way ever again.

From that day on you kept stealing glances at his arms whenever he carried something heavy or his tall figure when he wasn't looking your way. Every shift you shared with Seonghwa turned into the most delightful hours of your week as you imagined the things his beautiful body could do.

His small acts of kindness now made your hurt burn instead of slightly flutter. One time you accidentally pushed a cup from the counter but before it could hit the ground, Seonghwa had caught it mid-air.

"Careful there, clumsy," he had said with a mind-numbingly handsome smirk and you had to take a break just to let your heart recover from that blow.

What you didn't notice was that Seonghwa had been stealing glances at you too. He marvelled at your curves when you reached for something high on the shelves and he couldn't get enough of the way you always hummed songs at work. He longed for that beautiful voice to sing his name instead of unfamiliar words.

A few weeks later, the two of you were supposed to close the store together. You had already turned off the main lights and closed the doors after all the customers had left.

Seonghwa was currently filling the dishwasher and you decided to already restock for the next day. As you went to the storage room, you discovered that the only espresso beans left were on the highest shelf. The owner of the coffee shop was quite tall and always forgot that small people like you were working there as well when he restocked items.

But you were determined to do this on your own. After lightly testing if the shelf was secure enough, you stepped onto the lowest rack. Stretching your arm as far as you could, you still barely reached the box you so desired to get. You tried to grab it but only ended up pushing it more towards the back. Frustrated, you climbed another rack, now dangerously high on the shelf.

Finally managing to grab the box, you noticed something about your balance was off. Or to be exact, not your balance but the shelf's balance. It was slowly starting to tip over.

Fuck, was all you could think as you let go of the package and jumped off the shelf. But it was already too late to get away. The metal rack would soon crush you underneath it.

You put your hands over your head for protection and waited for the impact. But the impact didn't come.

"Y/n, what are you doing?" a frightened Seonghwa yelled at you as he was holding on to the shelf with his entire body. A few boxes had fallen out, but he managed to put it back into place without any further damage.

As soon as it stood in its original place again he scrambled next to you with worry evident on his face.

"Are you alright? Has anything fallen onto you?"

You were still paralysed from the shock as he frantically searched your small stature for any injuries.

"I-I'm fine. It didn't hit me," you said in a small voice.

Seonghwa exhaled in relieve and to your surprise he enveloped you in a tight hug.

"What were you even doing? You could have hurt yourself!" He faced you again but kept his arm around your back for support. It clouded your head even more than the near-death experience.

"I just wanted to stock up on espresso beans."

"But I always do that!" he replied in confusion.

"Exactly. And I wanted to do it this time, because I feel guilty that you always do everything for me. I can carry stuff as well."

"I know you can! But the only reason I do it for you is that I don't want you to get hurt. I know how unsafe the shelves here are. I wanted to prevent this..." he said sadly and it almost looked like he blamed himself for your mistake.

"I'm sorry. I should've known better." You felt incredibly guilty for making him worry like that.

"It's okay. I'm just glad you're alright."

While saying that, Seonghwa gently put a stray strand of your hair behind you ear and your eyes met in a sudden contact. His usually reserved gaze was now full of affection and your heart skipped a beat.

You couldn't bear the intensity off his eyes any longer as your cheeks warmed up already. You wanted to look to the ground but instead your eyes got caught on another detail. Two buttons of Seonghwa's shirt were loose, probably having opened as he was struggling to put the shelf back into place.

You couldn't help but stare at his exposed skin, his chest muscles clearly visible and looking absolutely tempting. He was so close to you still and the hand on your back was suddenly burning through your shirt.

"My eyes are up here, Y/n." Seonghwa laughed, but when you looked back up at him in embarrassment, he had a smirk plastered on his face.

"You do really enjoy looking at me, don't you?"

You were at a loss for words at his sudden directness. Your pulse was racing as the smirk on his face grew even bigger.

"You think I haven't noticed you staring at me whenever you get a chance?" He looked more than satisfied with his observation and your startled reaction only proved his point.

"I-I... Why didn't you say something?" You tried to safe yourself.

Seonghwa released a low chuckle that made your head dizzy. He looked so dangerously handsome right now.

"First of all, because I didn't want you to stop. And second of all, because I was afraid I couldn't control myself any longer."

His words went through your body like lightning. "What are you saying?" you asked carefully. He couldn't possibly mean what you thought he did.

"I'm saying that if you took just one step closer to me the day you caught me changing in here I would've probably been the one making this shelf tip over because I would have fucked you right into it."

Your breath hitched in your throat as your eyes opened wide in shock. He had known that you had thirsted for him all along. And even more, the desire was mutual.

Seonghwa grabbed your chin and tilted your head a little upwards only to give you another one of those deadly smirks.

"You have no idea how long I've waited for this," he said as he closed the distance between the two of you. His lips landed on yours with force but somehow still gently.

The softness of his lips made the embrace feel addictive and your mind became foggy as soon as you deepened the kiss. Seonghwa's hand wandered from your chin to the back of your neck, where he pressed you even closer to him.

A small moan escaped your throat as you felt his fingers graze over your sensitive skin and he shuddered beneath the sound. You let your own hands wander to his toned chest, feeling the muscles underneath his shirt. Seonghwa however seemed displeased by the way you touched him:

"Don't be shy, baby. You can touch my skin. The shirt is already half open anyway." So when he continued the kiss, you fingers were fumbling to open the rest of his shirt buttons.

You couldn't believe this was happening. Everything you ever day-dreamed about during your shifts at the cafe became true as you let your hands touch his smooth skin and feel his muscles moving as he deepened the kiss.

Seonghwa interrupted it only to get rid of the shirt completely. He threw it across the storage room but proceeded to get up from the floor. As you looked at him in confusion he offered you his hand.

"Let's get you somewhere else, baby. The floor is no place for you."

You accepted his hand but when he pulled you up it was with much more force than you expected end you ended up stumbling into his arms, your hands stabling yourself on his toned chest. His smug grin told you that that was exactly his plan.

"Already falling for me, I see," he whispered into your ear and a smile accompanied the shudder that ran through your body at his words.

"I didn't know you could be such a tease," you replied in a sassy tone.

"I reserve that side of me for special people," he answered before connecting your lips once again.

While kissing he walked you towards the side of the room and suddenly tapped your thighs in a silent request. You understood and jumped up so that he could carry you. When he put you back down, you recognized that you were placed upon your break table and a chuckle left you.

"So the floor is no place for me but our lunch-table is?"

"The table is for eating so I don't see the problem."

You choked on your own saliva as his words registered with you and as if to make a point, Seonghwa dived into your neck to suck on the soft skin as if he wanted to devour you.

As his lips worked wonders on your neck, one of his hands moved to your thigh as the other grabbed onto your waist. His thumb was drawing circles into your leg through the very thin layer of your tights and you didn't know what to focus on anymore.

You let your hands run over his muscular arms shamelessly as you revelled in his touch. When Seonghwa started sucking on your skin you threw your head back and released a small moan.

"Just like that, baby. I love to hear your voice," he hummed before continuing his work. With the way he explored every inch of your neck to see which place elicited the most beautiful moans from you, you were sure that you would look absolutely bruised by tomorrow. But you couldn't care less.

Seonghwa's hands travelled to the hem of your shirt and he broke the kiss to look at you for approval. Without him having to ask a question you nodded hurriedly.

"Take it off, Seonghwa."

A sly smile appeared on his face as he lifted the fabric over your head. As soon as the piece of clothing joined his shirt on the floor, he slowly drunk in the sight of you in your bra sitting on the table in front of him.

"You look so good right now you have no idea," he complimented you with glowing eyes and you felt heat rushing to your already flushed face. Without waiting any longer, Seonghwa kissed his way down from your neck over your chest to the hem of your skirt and finally your thighs.

Your tights were barely separating his lips from your skin and you moaned as he got onto his knees before you and kissed his way up the inside of your legs. Your skirt had ridden up almost completely and Seonghwa's lips got closer and closer to your throbbing core as he held onto your hips tightly.

Once again he separated from your skin for a second to look up at you. His pupils were dilated and his gaze spoke of pure lust as his tongue poked the inside of his cheek.

"Can I eat you out, baby?" his voice was deep and throaty.

He could've asked you to commit arson with him and you still would've nodded your head without a second of doubt. But this was even better.

"Fuck, yes."

That's all the approval he needed to run his hands under your skirt and yank your tights together with your panties down to your ankles. When they caught on your shoes he took those off impatiently to finally rid you off your clothes. All you were left in now was your bra and your pleated skirt.

With a seductive grin he slowly spread apart your legs and you shivered at the anticipation. Agonizingly slow he left kisses on your inner thigh until he finally reached your core. When his tongue connected with your clit, you released a choked moan.

Seonghwa scrunched up your skirt so that you could see him making eye contact with you as his tongue lapped at your core. The view in front of you drove an electric shock through your veins and you grabbed onto his silky, jet-black hair to push him just a little bit closer to you.

Your neediness sparked a fire in Seonghwa that you weren't ready for in the least bit. His pace picked up rapidly and your legs soon started shaking under his skilled tongue.

When he slowly pushed two fingers into you while not interrupting his rhythm at all, you started to shamelessly moan around his touch.

"Fuck, Seonghwa. You feel so good..."

Your praise only further motivated him and his fingers curled inside of you in a delightful angle. The heat in your lower stomach was increasing by the second and you could feel yourself nearing an orgasm. But as you grabbed Seonghwa's hair more desperately than before, he suddenly stopped his tongue movements and removed his fingers from you.

"I was close," you whined breathlessly and a satisfied chuckle leaves Seonghwa's glistening lips.

"I know babygirl, but I want you to come on something much more satisfying than my fingers."

Your lids fluttered close at the thought of him inside you. You needed him immediately.

Seonghwa got up from the floor and connected your lips again in a slow kiss as he worked on the buttons of his jeans. Your impatience won over you and your hands flew up to help him tug both his jeans and his boxers down making his already hardened length spring free.

"Impatient, are we?" He asked teasingly and you knew there was no point in hiding it.

"I want you so bad, Seonghwa," you whined, doll eyes looking up at him through fluttering lashes. He groaned at the sight.

You slowly took in his naked figure causing your heart to skip a beat. His statue truly looked like it was build for a god and you couldn't fail to notice that he was very well endowed. When your eyes wandered back to his face he looked at you with a deep gaze.

"Ready for me, baby?" His voice sounded like pure honey in your ears and you could feel excitement rush through your body.

"Yes," you answered without hesitation.

He gently grabbed your hips and pulled you off the table. His slender hands turned you around and you could feel Seonghwa's warm breath in your neck as his arm snaked around your waist, pulling you close to his chest. Goosebumps spread on your skin and a small whine leaves your mouth as you realize the position he wants to fuck you in.

"I'm not going to last long if you'll drive me insane like this," he whispered into your ear as he slowly aligned his tip with your core.

"Please..." you whimpered more than desperate for him to finally enter you.

As he sunk himself into you, both of you released breathy moans. You could already feel your legs getting weak and you knew you wouldn't last long either. You were still on edge from his tongue.

When he was fully inside you, his tip was hitting your sweet spot and your mind clouded over. He filled you up so well and with your soaking wetness, the stretch was just delightful. Without waiting any longer he started snapping his hips into you in a steady rhythm as his hands held onto your hips.

"You feel so good, baby" he praised you in between two particularly deep thrusts and all you could reply with were delighted moans.

Seonghwa definitely knew what he was doing. From the way he snapped his hips into you in perfect rhythm to letting one of his hands wander along the curve of your waist and caress your skin in a soft contrast to his harsh movements. You felt like a goddess in his hands and were already beginning to lose your mind.

Seonghwa's lips then latched onto your neck and sucked even more marks into your skin. In your position with your back arched and him buried deep inside you, your vision started blotching in pleasure.

"Seonghwa, I'm close..."

He truly took your words to heart as he grabbed your waist and delivered even deeper thrusts at a faster pace. The sudden change had you whining and moaning all over his cock and it didn't take him long to drive you over the edge.

Your hands frantically grabbed onto his toned body behind you as your legs softened up and you felt a mind-numbing release wash over you. Without his hold on you you would've surely toppled over. You breathed heavy and Seonghwa slowed down his movements to let you enjoy your high.

"Just like that, beautiful."

His husky voice had you shivering all over and there was no way you could stay standing like this.

Seonghwa noticed your shaky legs and slowly removed himself from you before turning you around. He kissed your lips softly a few times as he guided your body back onto the table.

"Lay down for me, baby." He whispered and you obey without a second thought. As Seonghwa moved between your legs he propped one of his hands onto the table right next to your head.

The gaze shared between the two of you spoke of intense desire but also something more. The mutual affection was even more evident when you shared another kiss, this one deep and slow.

Without interrupting the kiss, Seonghwa sank back into you and you both moaned into each other's mouths.

He gently grabbed one of your legs and hooked it over his shoulder to give you an even deeper angle. Your eyes rolled to the back of your head as soon as he continued thrusting into you.

"Fuck," Seonghwa groaned and you realized he was getting close as well.

The sight before you felt like a dream inside a dream. Seonghwa's eyes were on yours in an adoring gaze, his muscles moving beneath his tanned skin as laboured breaths escaped his throat.

His hand moved to your clit and drew small but firm circles onto your skin. You whined as soon as he touched you and the tension between your legs grew rapidly.

"Can you come for me one more time, beautiful?" Seonghwa asked softly.

You nodded in reply and he sped up his thrusts. Seonghwa hit all the right angles inside of you and you could feel your orgasm approaching.

When he started to groan and drop his head into your neck to suck on the delicate skin once again, you felt yourself losing it.

This was all just way too good. Never have you ever thought that Seonghwa would so much as spare you a single glance and now he was buried deep inside you, fucking you better than anyone ever did before.

„I'm gonna cum," you whined at him as you pulled his body closer to you. Your nails raked over his back as the feeling inside your stomach threatened to explode.

"That's right. Come for me, baby," his raspy groans right next to your ear send you into overdrive and you could feel your body convulsing under the intense pleasure. This one felt even stronger than the first due to your sensitivity and you started to release loud moans as you held onto Seonghwa through your delight.

The way you clenched around him and moaned shamelessly also drove Seonghwa over the edge. He pulled himself out of you and slowly stroked himself through his own release. His his hot cum spurted across your stomach as deep groans left his parted mouth. Some of it landed on your skirt, decorating it with milky white splotches. The sight was intoxicatingly beautiful. His perfect face contorted in bliss as he touched himself. You felt like passing out just watching him.

He lowered his lips onto yours in a soft kiss as he recovered from his orgasm. Your entire body felt fuzzy beneath his gentle touches. Noone had ever made you feel the way Seonghwa just had on your literal lunch-table. Your orgasm was still making your limbs weak and had your body thrumming.

When you two broke the kiss to catch some air, Seonghwa looked down at you affectionately.

"I'm sorry, I might have gone a little ahead of myself. Originally, I wanted to take you on a date sometime but I guess we skipped a few steps."

You both laugh at the surreal situation.

"I'd still like that date though," you answered, mirroring his warm gaze.

"Perfect. But let's not get coffee. I kind of had enough of that already."

────── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: .☽ . :☆ﾟ. ──────

Networks: @underworldnet 👍🏻

Taglist: @gwenchwana

[uhzuku]

it's literally almost 4am but you asked for thirsts so here i am‼️

anyway, i just think it's fun to think about camboy eren who always looks so bored, so apathetic, even as he's jerking himself off with quick flicks of his wrist. the only time he ever truly looks engaged is when you tip him a little extra for a one-on-one session, so eager to find new ways of pleasuring himself that make you so flustered. honestly it's almost like you're the one camming for him instead of the other way around (even though he's never asked you to go beyond touching yourself off-camera)

i absolutely love this, just gonna drop that there before I start this thing😤

tw: masturbation ! — camboy ! — camshow ! — nudity ! — mentions of private camshows ! — private camshow ! — minor femdom !

mmmm yeah, half the time he just doesn’t give a flying fuck about the little red light staring him down — he’s got rent to pay, groceries to buy, and his friends to support. jobs rarely open up in paradis these days, and with armin and mikasa more or less jobless and unable to provide for themselves he was ready to do what he had to to make a quick buck to keep food on their tables. the two had resisted taking the money he made at first, and had asked how he made so much more times than he could count until he’d made two thousand dollars overnight (that was at the end of his third week doing this); at that point he just sent them a look before telling them to pay rent and not ask. they hadn’t since, respecting his boundaries and appreciating the help (and still looking for work).

he knows there are thousands hungrily watching him on the other sides of their monitors with their fingers in their pussies or wrapped around their cocks but none of them really catch his attention; they were honest all a bunch of strangers just wanting to get off, why would he give a damn who they were as long as they sent in their tips as he jerked his own cock for them so he could get his pay?

yeah, eren yeager never gave a single shit about any of his viewers — until you send in a $3k tip and a simple smiley face. after that first private show yours was a more common username to be seen tipping at his shows, and your private shows tended to become more of a mutual masturbation session than a simple camshow — still, he’ll always treasure the memory of your first appearance on his stream.

cherryred tipped $3000 ! [ (: ]

the large sum made eren pause with his fist loosely wrapped around his cock, his eyes wide and filled with shock. the vibrating cock ring he’d put on kept buzzing but he barely noticed it; the largest amount of money he’d been tipped at once was formerly $200, but someone really just dropped three thousand dollars on him like it was nothing.

cherryred tipped $3000 ! [ (: ]

again? he had to be going crazy — yeah, he’d been at this for three hours now and had cum eleven times while racking up 17k (twenty three with the new donations), but he’d never received six thousand dollars from one person in the span of, like, a minute, and it absolutely shocked him. the tip notification flashed across his screen again and his jaw dropped.

cherryred tipped $4000 ! [ how much more for a private show?? (: ]

this stranger really just fucking tipped him ten thousand dollars in under two minutes, and all for a private show. throwing a ‘be right back!’ placeholder over the screen, he backs out of the stream screen so he can grab his phone. he picks it up and his eyes widen all over again at the paypal statements.

aarontay sent you $50.

lmarion sent you $25.

cherryred sent you $3,000.

garrett holmes sent you $125.

cherryred sent you $3,000.

cherryred sent you $4,000.

“oh my god,” he whispers softly, glancing back up at the blinking red dot that signaled that he was still streaming before looking towards his second monitor that he used to see what he looked like live to ensure the best possible angles. the screen was still black, showing that he’d not uncovered himself yet and he thought about it for a second. he’d never done a private show before — but this person had just tipped him ten thousand dollars, at the very least he could press a vibe to his balls and jerk off until he coated his hand with cum again.

he nods to himself silently; the pros outweighed the cons, in all honesty — and if he did a good enough job, the extremely generous tipper might come back for more.

he’d made up his mind.

leaning forward, he flicks a switch and the ‘be right back!’ layout disappears and he’s back on camera. he crosses his arms and looks straight into the lens, smirking softly.

“you still there, cherryred?” he asks quietly, looking into the camera.

cherryred tipped $1000 ! [ yes (: ]

eren nods slowly. “alright, okay... dm me and i’ll see what i can do for you tonight.”

before he can talk anymore a notification pops up on the upper right corner of his screen.

you’ve received a message from CHERRYRED !

he opens it and sees the now very much familiar [ (: ] on his screen and chuckles.

cherryred tipped $2000 ! [ did you get it?? (: ]

he nods again, smiling softly. “yeah, i got it.” he stretches in his chair, his back cracking slightly. “alright, that’s all for tonight folks — i’ve got places to be.” and before anyone can pipe up how they didn’t want the show to be over he ended the live, swiping over to the dms with cherryred. after asking if she was ready and receiving an affirmative he gets comfortable starts the private video.

cherryred’s side of the screen is pitch black and their mic is muted, but eren is pretty positive as to what they’re doing as they watch him drag a loose fist up and down the achingly hard length of his cock.

“you touching yourself, baby?” he asks breathily with a lazy grin on his face.

cherryred — [ wouldn’t you like to know? (: ]

he laughs a little then screws his eyes shut. “ffffuck... feels so good,” he moans softly, looking down at the angry cherry red head of his cock and swallowing hard as it twitches in his hand. “o-oh fuck—“

cherryred — [ bring your knees up and spread your legs. ]

cherryred — [ then go faster. grip your cock harder too. ]

“fuck, fuck, okay,” eren whispers, thighs trembling as he does as told. he can feel a light tug coming from deep in his balls and moans, his head falling back. how was he so close already? they’d barely been on for a minute and he could already feel that he was going to cum soon.

cherryred — [ turn your thumb sideways as you swipe up and point the tip of it into your cock. ]

“why?” he asks breathlessly, not really wanting to scratch his cock.

cherryred — [ trust me. do it. ]

“o-okay,” he replies quietly, jerking his cock normally a few times before doing as ordered. i’mediately he cries out and his back arches as his thumb nail gently scratches directly up the most prominent vein of his cock and catches at the underside of his cock head before flicking over it. the feeling has him shouting cum all over his stomach and crying out, his chest heaving and toes curling.

“h-how did you — i’ve never done — what was that?” he whines, hips twitching ever so slightly. he’d never cummed that hard in his life.

cherryred — looked like it would work.

cherryred — thanks for the show.

“wait—!” eren croaks, but before he can get anything else out he’s alone in the call. staring at the blank screen for a second, he groans and falls back onto the bed. his phone dings and he picks it up to investigate, his eyes widening for the umpteenth time that night.

PAYPAL — cherryred sent you $6,000. [ for a job well done (: ]