#gave me a laundry day vibe

[kasnudel]

So the whole time i've been watching buffy ive thought that xander was incredibly steve-coded. Just the vibe i got from him. Plus he's best friends with an autistic lesbian.

Anyway believe me when i say i was shocked when i saw him wear this outfit

Was steve xander-coded this whole time? Like this cannot be a coincidence

[elexuscal]

So just over a year ago, I made a resolution to myself to get better at Fitness, since I was getting older and i knew if i didn't, the Consequences would begin to manifest. One problem? Historically i have always hated working out.

i knew there were two main reasons why: 1. lingering trauma from the usual Fat/Neurodivergent Kid Mistreated In PE Class Experience 2. oh my god it's so so so boring i would rather do anything more entertaining.

So. I'm not an expert, and i'm definitely not a professional fitness instructor, BUT i have genuinely come to not just tolerate but actually enjoy exercise this past year. So if these are any problems you personally have contended with, these strategies May Help.

One: Remove Barriers

a lot of flavours of neurodivergence struggle with switching between tasks and executive function generally, especially towards something you don't find fun. So first you gotta identify any barriers keeping you from exercising, and removing or mitigating them.

For me, a hurdle i recognised is that if I could not easily access the equipment, I was unlikely to use it. honestly if i couldn't see it i would probably forget it was there. So my first order of business was making a Work Out Zone. I unrolled my yoga mat and gave it a near-permanent place in my room. my weights came out of the closet and placed on a low shelf where i could easily access them, as did my resistance band. now they were always Right there.

I also realised something I detested was the general feeling of sweaty clothes, and in particular, having to change out of them. So Gross. so i started scheduling my work outs for in the the morning after breakfast or right before my nightly showers, aka: when I am changing in and out of my PJs. I'll do my routine (mostly) naked and not have to contend with the extra steps and laundry that sweaty clothes bring.

two: secondary entertainment

like i said: i found exercise very boring. and while i've gotten better over the past year, and can find it meditative, i still prefer having something else to catch my attention.

i used to like to put on video essays. but then i realised i was so often pausing my work outs because the particular video ended, or the pace got slow, or the topic turned to something dark and depressing out of nowhere and killed the vibe, so then i had to stop to find something else--

No. You need something that will keep you in the zone, and won't knock you out of it. I didn't used to listen to music much, but this year i took advantage of a Spotify subscription my sister gifted me (😔) and started just putting on upbeat rock, hip-hop, and pop mixes. it doesn't need to be my favouirte music ever it just needs to Keep Going.

i do find the loud, rhythmic music is really good for keeping my pace up, but if music doesn't do it for you, you might find audiobooks or autoplaying favourite old tv shows/sitcoms might scratch that itch.

Three: Find Other Motivators

Or, "if you can't make your own motivation, store bought is fine"

Gameification is really good here. You might be someone who'll benefit from a pedometer or step-counter app. I have a friend who swears by the Switch Ring-Fit, and I've also heard of folks who use games like Just Dance, Zombies, Run! and Beat Saber to rely on the sweet sweet endorphins generated by hitting a high score.

(BUT: do beware the dark side of gameification, which is the risk of demotivation if you don't hit your goals. For example, after doing GREAT on exceeding my step goal for a month, I got hit with COVID. For about a week and a half I was barely moving beyond the kitchen and back. My step counts plummeted, there was no way to edit the record out, and that made it harder to get back into the groove. Be mindful relying too much on gameification!)

Even outside of literal games, there are ways to scratch this itch. I used secondary objectives as a way to encourage me to keep up with my daily walks. Walking my roommate's dog when he was working long days is an obvious one, but we don't always have a furry friend at our disposal. Then I would rely on mini-challenges like, "pick up 10 cool rocks to paint", "fill this bag with wood for the fireplace", "take 10 pretty pictures", or "get to the corner store to get more milk".

And of course, consider team sports! Many folks I've talked to feel having set training/play times with a team that relies on them crucial to keep them on track!

Four: Don't Measure Success By Weight Loss

I know. I know. Easier said than done. It does not help that like 80% of workout resources online are going to mention this. but above all else, you must resist the beast. (and while not as dicey, measuring success by visible muscle gain can fall into a similar trap).

The biggest benefits to exercise are invisible. it improves cardiovascular health, brain function, tissue regeneration, immune system function, lung capacity, energy levels, literally our whole body. no matter what external changes your body does or doesn't go through, you're still going to be benefitting from exercise, and you do not want to get demotivated chasing unrealistic/irrelevant goals.

Instead, to track your progress, focus on questions like these:

How is exercise impacting my mood? Do I feel less stressed or anxious?

Am I sleeping better?

Is my balance improving?

Is my stamina increasing?

Am I becoming more flexible?

Can I lift/carry heavier weights?

Is my breath control improving?

Over the last year, I've seen marked improvements in all of these. My joints don't hurt as much; it's easier for me to to get up and move; I don't get winded as easily; I generally feel more relaxed and cheerful. Those are all amazing outcomes, and I hope that everyone on their own fitness journey can find the same joy there as I have.

[midnight-shadow-cafe]

Closer Than You Think

Pairing: Simon “Ghost” Riley x reader

Warning: fluff, Simon being very observant (kinda giving silent but deadly stalker vibes)

Authors note: I hope yall enjoy, this is inspired by @machveil Off-Putting! Simon Fic Link here: https://www.tumblr.com/machveil/765073373377249280/off-puttingsimon-riley-with-a-reader-that-matches (definitely check them out💜)

Word Count: 1.3 K

Masterlist

MDNI18+MDNI18+MDNI18+MDNI18+MDNI18+

The kitchen was warm and quiet, filled with the familiar scent of spices and simmering food as you moved around, focused on your makeshift lunch. Simon was supposed to be cleaning dishes, his usual routine after meals, but he’d been washing the same plate for over two minutes now. From the corner of your eye, you could see him watching you, his intense gaze following each step as you sliced vegetables and spread condiments with the quiet concentration of someone completely unaware—except you were more than aware.

The faucet ran uselessly, water spilling over his hands as he held the plate. His stare was unblinking, a quiet, focused intensity as if he were afraid you might disappear if he looked away. Finally, you turned to him, a smile tugging at the corner of your lips. “You can keep looking, Simon,” you said softly. “Just turn off the faucet.”

He blinked, almost as if snapping back to reality, and then, with that familiar smirk of his, he shut off the water, letting the dish slip into the rack. His gaze remained on you as he stepped closer, his presence heavy, grounding. You felt the warmth of his hand hovering at your back, close but not touching, like he wanted to reach out but held back, that fierce intensity tempered by the quiet tenderness he saved just for you.

---

Simon’s need to be close extended far beyond quiet mornings and kitchen counters. He was your shadow throughout the day, moving with you from room to room, an ever-present figure who seemed to appear whenever you least expected it. You’d be folding laundry in the bedroom when you’d catch sight of him leaning against the door frame, arms crossed, his gaze fixed on you with that same unwavering focus.

Once, while reading in the living room, you looked up to see him seated nearby, his eyes never leaving you as you lost yourself in the pages. He held his coffee mug in one hand, watching with an intensity that felt both comforting and slightly unnerving. It was as if he was memorizing you, studying every detail, absorbing your presence in a way that made you feel as though you were the only thing in the world that mattered to him.

“What’s on your mind?” you asked, meeting his gaze.

He just gave a slight shake of his head, that rare, almost shy smile softening his features. “Nothing. Just like looking at you.”

There was a weight in his words, a depth that went beyond simple affection. Simon’s love was a fierce, consuming thing, one that he conveyed not with grand gestures or pretty words, but with his quiet, undivided attention. And in those moments, you could feel it as clearly as if he’d said it out loud.

---

At night, his need for closeness became even more palpable. Simon would slip into bed beside you, wrapping an arm around your waist with a firm grip that sometimes bordered on possessive. He’d hold you tightly, his hand splayed across your hip, fingers pressing into your skin with a roughness that left faint red marks in the morning. It was as if he needed that physical connection, a tangible reminder that you were his and right there with him.

There were nights you’d wake up to find him watching you in the dark, his gaze soft but intense, a quiet kind of reverence in his eyes. He’d reach out, brushing a hand gently down your arm, his fingers lingering as if reassuring himself of your presence. And when he thought you were asleep, he’d press a kiss to your shoulder, the tenderness in his touch a stark contrast to the hard lines of his usual demeanor.

“You’re really watching me all night?” you murmured one evening, breaking the silence.

“Only sometimes,” he whispered back, a hint of a smile in his voice. But his hand tightened around you, pulling you close in a way that made it clear he’d stay there forever if he could.

---

Grocery shopping was another arena for his quiet protectiveness. Simon followed you through each aisle, staying a few steps behind, his tall frame casting a watchful shadow as you moved through the store. He’d let you wander ahead, giving you space to browse, but he was never far. Sometimes you’d look up to find him at the end of the aisle, his eyes tracking your every movement.

One day, while you were comparing brands, a well-meaning stranger approached, glancing between you and Simon. “Excuse me, but… are you aware that there’s a man following you?”

You laughed softly, casting a glance at Simon’s intense, unflinching stare. “Oh—thank you. He’s my husband.”

The stranger’s eyes widened in surprise before he mumbled an awkward apology and hurried away. Simon stepped up beside you, his hand finding its way to your lower back, a grounding presence. You felt his thumb press against your spine, a subtle reminder of his possessive nature as he leaned in, murmuring in your ear, “I like when they know you’re taken.”

“Oh, do you?” you teased, nudging him lightly as he smirked, his hand lingering just a moment too long.

---

Sometimes he’d follow you outside too, finding excuses to be close even on the quietest strolls. You might be out in the yard, admiring the blooming flowers, and he’d appear beside you, silent and watchful, his eyes tracing over you with that same intense focus. If you wandered too close to the edge of the property, his hand would come to rest on your shoulder, guiding you back with a gentle but firm pressure.

Once, you caught him outside in the early morning, his eyes on the kitchen window as he watched you from a distance. You’d only been making coffee, the simplest of tasks, but he observed you with the kind of attention others might reserve for something far more significant. You stepped out onto the porch, calling his name, and he came inside without a word, his gaze never leaving you as he slipped into the kitchen and pulled you into a loose embrace.

---

In social settings, Simon’s need for closeness only intensified. He’d stand close behind you at gatherings, his presence a protective wall against the crowd, his hand occasionally brushing your arm or settling at your waist as if anchoring you to his side. His gaze stayed fixed on you, making it clear to anyone nearby that you were his, and he wasn’t going anywhere.

One night at a friend’s party, someone reached out to give you a friendly hug, and you felt Simon’s body tense beside you, his hand sliding to your shoulder with a possessive grip. He didn’t say a word, but his stare was unmistakable, a silent declaration that made the friend take a step back, nodding in understanding. You couldn’t help but stifle a laugh, reaching up to rest a reassuring hand on his arm.

“Relax,” you whispered, amused by the quiet fierceness in his gaze. He just shrugged, a hint of a smirk on his lips, but he didn’t let go, his hand remaining on your shoulder in a gentle yet firm grip that conveyed exactly how he felt.

---

Even in the smallest moments, his intensity was ever-present. When you’d return from running errands, he’d meet you at the door, his eyes scanning over you as if reassuring himself that you were safe and whole. He’d take the bags from your hands, his fingers brushing over yours, lingering just a moment too long. And at night, he’d hold you close as you drifted off, his arms wrapped around you with a gentle possessiveness that left faint marks in the morning.

Simon’s love was a quiet, intense thing, a devotion that showed in the way he watched you, touched you, held you. He was a man of few words, but his actions spoke volumes, his constant presence a silent declaration that he was yours, and you were his. And as you lay beside him each night, feeling the weight of his hand on your waist, the warmth of his breath against your neck, you knew that this was a love unlike any other—fierce, consuming, and wholly, irrevocably yours.

Hope you enjoyed! Please consider liking and reblogging! -Midnight💜

[whimsyfinny]

Pairing: Dean Winchester x Reader

Summary: Charlie discovers the Winchester boys to be struggling with keeping the bunker tidy, looking after themselves and being able to do their job simultaneously. Luckily she has a friend who’s from a Hunter family that is in need of work and can help them with research. Or so she thought that’s what her job would be. When Dean sees your more domesticated side, his head won’t stop swimming with all the wrong ideas.

Slow burn, enemies to lovers, smut

Warnings: None (Yet) in chapters to come there will be smut (and lots of it) and possible violence/blood/gore

Chapter Word Count: 668

—-MDNI—-

A/N: My first Supernatural fic so I hope it doesn’t suck ass. Only proof read by myself, so pls let me know of any errors so I can correct! Also I know at this point in the series Dean is more serious, however I love pre-Hell Dean so imma bring some of those vibes in here. This is also posted on my AO3.

——————————————————————

I’m Not Your F*ckng Maid

-Prologue-

Dean was awoken with a slam inches from his face and he sprung to life, almost losing his balance before he realised where he was. He’d fallen asleep at the table with his face in a book and surrounded by heaps of paper - many of which he hadn’t even started to read through yet. Blinking awake and gaining his bearings, he heard a familiar voice ring through the room.

”You boys are disgusting, how do you live like this?” The older Winchester finally looked up to see Charlie lifting a plate of half eaten, day-old pizza whilst kicking several beer bottles aside so she could pull out a chair and take a seat next to Dean, who was pinching the bridge of his nose.

”Yeah well, we’ve been a little busy recently if you haven’t noticed,” his voice was gravelly from the sleep. Charlie put down the plate of old food and sat down, worry crossing her face as she looked at the man next to her. She knew they’d been under a lot of pressure lately with their work, so much so that the brothers were starting to neglect themselves. It had been months since they’d eaten proper food that wasn’t instant or take-out, they rarely went outside, always locking themselves away in the bunker to do research and the bunker itself was getting cluttered with bin bags and pizza boxes. Not to mention the piles of laundry that she’s noticed slowly starting to form its own ecosystem in the washroom.

“Yeah I get that, but you really have to look after yourselves. When was the last time you ate a vegetable?”

Dean scoffed.

“Yesterday, obviously,” he gave her a look like she was from another planet, and she rolled her eyes.

“The pizza sauce doesn’t count, Dean.”

He looked puzzled, raising an eyebrow, “Why not?”

Before she could even humour him with an answer, Sam emerged, rubbing his eyes.

“Oh hey Charlie, when did you get here?” His voice was equally as gravelly as Deans, so she assumed he’d also just woken up.

“Five minutes ago.”

“She called us disgusting Sam. And she said the sauce on pizza isn’t made from vegetables,” Dean gestured to Charlie like she was the fool as he looked up at his younger brother who now stood across from him on the other side of the table. Sam went to open his mouth to respond, but closed it again quickly and furrowed his brows, clearly unsure how to reply to his older brother without opening a can of worms. Charlie huffed.

“You guys need to sort yourself out. I only dropped by because I hadn’t heard from you for a while and thought you might’ve worked yourself to death. I can’t stay long because I’m meeting a friend for a drink. She’s already at the diner waiting for me”

“A friend?” Dean wiggled his eyebrows suggestively and the redhead smirked.

“I wish, sadly she’s into dudes,” she paused, a thought crossing her mind, “Come to think of it, she’s actually looking for work, you guys might be able to help.”

Dean and Sam shared a glance.

“She’s a hunter?” Sam asked.

“Not exactly. Her uncle was, so she knows about stuff, but from what I know she was just a research girlie,” Charlie peered at the mess of papers on the table, “and it looks like you could use the help.” She looked between the brothers as they stared at each other, like they were having some sort of unspoken conversation. A few moments passed before Dean slapped his hand on the table and stood up.

“Sure ok, but we’re coming with you today to meet her,” he went to grab his jacket from the back of his chair, an eagerness in his movements before Charlie put her hand out to stop him.

“Great!” She grinned, before raising her eyebrows and pointing to them both, “but first you guys have got to shower, because I can taste your BO from here.”

——————————————————————

Up Next

Chapter 1

[cherrycherrylady2024]

Christmas with the Grimes'

(Dilf! Rick Grimes x reader) Word count: 2,675

Warnings: 18+ for real. NSFW, some angst, fingering, hickeys, grinding, light choking/hair pulling? I need Rick Grimes so bad

Chapter 3: In your dreams

“So then Martian Man defeats the evil robot, except the robot was actually his half-brother the whole time, so he gets really sad at the end of issue #4. Then in #5 he-” Carl was giving you the entire lore behind his new comic book, and you put on your best listening face, while Judith tapped on her phone, having already heard this. Except you weren’t really listening whatsoever. Your mind was in a frenzy of activity. Did he see? Does he know? Who are you kidding, of course he knows. Your face was still red with embarrassment since the incident half an hour ago. If only Carl and Judith weren’t expecting you, you’d have hidden under Rick’s blanket for the rest of the day. Maybe the rest of winter break, but who’s to say?

You wanted to punch him in his stupid handsome face for making you feel like this. Either punch or kiss. Maybe both. That look Rick gave you, you couldn’t get it out of your head. It was nearly a smirk, but more subtle and prideful. Like he knew what he would catch you doing. He knew how you felt. You were petrified to see him again. “...and I haven’t read the new comic yet, but I heard it’s supposed to be pretty good! Do ya wanna borrow it when I'm done?” Carl questioned. You snapped out of your daze. “Oh! Yes, totally. Thanks,” You replied. Judith got up from Carl’s twin bed, where she lounged, “Alright Carl, it’s my turn with y/n. You read your new comic til dinner.” With the word ‘dinner’ you felt your stomach twist unpleasantly, your mind on the verge of implosion. With a whine of “Alriiight,” Carl sat down at his little desk and began poring over the pages. 

Judith led you down the opposite hallway towards her bedroom. As you followed, you passed the only other bedroom in the house. The door was slightly ajar. You heard the floorboards creak underneath him as he padded around the room. Rick was putting away laundry, sloppily folding pants and shirts, and didn’t notice your quick passing. Or at least he didn’t show it. You had lingered back just slightly, but thankfully Judith didn’t notice as you caught right back up with her. “Okay, so I’m right down the hall from you if you need anything. It’ll be weird not sharing a room, right?” she said as she entered her bedroom. “Oh yeah, super weird. What am I going to do without your snoring lulling me to sleep?” you mocked. “You know you love it,” she said, plopping on her bed. Judith's room was adorned with fading pink floral wallpaper, posters, sports trophies, books, and photos. “Anyways this is my room, it clearly hasn't been updated since 2010 but it’s still a vibe,” Judith said. You picked up a photo from her bookshelf. It appeared to be from a high school dance, as Judith wore what could only be considered the ugliest, most ruffled, unflattering dress in the world, and was holding hands with a gawky teenage boy. Both Judith and the boy awkwardly smiled for the photo, turning out more like grimaces with mouths full of braces. “It is totally still a vibe,” you said turning back to her with the picture, containing your laughter. “Fuck off!” she cried, jumping up and snatching the photo from you as you burst out in giggles, “We all make mistakes, it was sophomore year for god's sake,” she said. “I am begging you. Please bring that back to the dorms with us. Please! It can be my Christmas present” you choked out in between laughter, sitting at her desk. Judith gazed at the photo, “I can’t believe I made out with him that night” she said. “Oh god, please no” you responded in horror. “I think our braces got stuck together” she pondered. “PLEASE you’re gonna make me sick” you laughed, covering your ears. Judith snorted and placed it back on the shelf, “Hold on, you’re gonna die when you see this. I think I have it in here,” she said, as she looked hurriedly through her bookshelf. She pulled out a photo album, “Here!” she exclaimed, flipping through the pages. She landed on one and handed it to you, “Talk about bad Prom pictures.”

It was another prom photo, but it appeared to be from the late 80s/early 90s. A tall thin brunette woman grinned widely, almost painfully, at the camera, her dress clearly a hand-me-down from the mid-80s. She held awkwardly at arm's length a man who looked a year or two older. He wore a suit with a ruffle on the collar, which also screamed hand-me-downs. If it weren’t for those eyes, you wouldn't have even recognized Rick Grimes. He looked much less self-assured, maybe even nervous, and probably 10 years younger than the photo you had seen of him in the hallway. “The fucking posing gets me every time, look at my mom's face” Judith laughed. Your stomach started to hurt. “That's your mom?” you questioned. “Yeah,” Judith replied, “The whole photo album’s pictures of her. We made it right after she died as like a commemorative therapy type-thing. Flip through it,” She suggested as she began unzipping her suitcase. You turned the pages slowly. Rick was in many of the photos, but most prominently featured was Mrs. Grimes. You didn’t even know her name. Judiths mom. Ricks wife. The anxious knots in your stomach seemed to tighten more and more. “I’m gonna go lay down.” You stated, hurriedly standing, leaving the photo album on the desk. Judith looked up at you from her suitcase with a hint of concern. “I’m just – tired. I’ll let you unpack,” you added. “Okay,” Judith shrugged. You began to leave, “Oh and I think dinner’s at 7!” she mentioned. Your stomach did flips, but you gritted your teeth, “Okay!”

You shut your bedroom door behind you and climbed into bed, wrapping the covers around yourself. The clock on your nightstand read 5 pm. Your mind was racing. You felt sick with anxiety. Were you a bad person? Are you imagining this all? Every look, or brush of the hands. Were you convincing yourself of something that isn't really there? He's a grown married man. What about Judith? Were you going to ruin the best friendship you’d ever had? Have you already ruined it? Rick knew. He must think you’re a freak. A nuisance. What is wrong with you? What is wrong with you? What is wrong with you? You couldn’t stop the tornado of thoughts in your mind as you drifted off into a fretful slumber.

~~~

You chopped the large bar of dark chocolate into messy chunks, sneaking a few slivers into your mouth now and then. The kitchen around you was endless, spanning into a vague sea of warm glowing nothingness. In fact, there really was no kitchen at all. Just the kitchen island, where you stood, chopping the chocolate bar. Perhaps you were making cookies. Yes, that's what it was: you were chopping the chocolate bar to put into chocolate chunk cookies. You were content, humming to yourself. Maybe this is all you ever did. It was bright and beautiful and heavenly familiar. Two arms snaked their way around your waist, another familiar feeling, Rick's hips to your back as he held you tightly. You breathed deeply at the sensation, lolling your head back to rest on his chest. He stole a tiny piece of chocolate from your cutting board and slipped it into his mouth. You could feel his belt buckle pressing against your skin, leaving an indentation. His heartbeat reverberated through your body as if you were one, the warmth of his chest against your cheek. Wordlessly he dipped his head down, so close you felt his breath against your neck, you could smell the chocolate, his beard slightly scratching you. You dropped your knife and gripped the counter tightly as you felt his lips ever-so-slightly brush against your throat, neck, and ear sequentially. Almost like he was inhaling you. Searching for the right spot. He hesitated, making you wait. His hands gripped you tightly to him. Almost possessive, like you were his. One slowly traveled completely around your waist to the other side, pinning you to him while the other slid down. His palm was stretched wide, his fingertips brushing past where your thigh connects to your hips. The proximity of his hand to where you wanted so badly to be touched was enough to make you let out a little whine. His grip settles on your pelvis bone as he pulls you to him somehow even tighter. You communicated without words, begging him for more. Anything. He slowly lowered his lips to the side of your neck, leaving a feather-light kiss that sent shivers through your body. You pressed your hips back into him impatiently, needing more. He held your hips in place, his grasp verging on slightly painful. But it felt so good. He lightly kissed your neck again, near your jaw. Then, very slowly he moved near your ear, kissing you again. It was like he had all the time in the world to make you unravel.

He trailed down your neck towards your collarbone, his kisses becoming deeper, his lips parting more and more as if to taste you. You craned your head for more access. More, more, more. He groaned against your neck, grinding his hips into yours. His hands began to move over your body, groping and squeezing. One of your hands ran through his hair, pushing his head, his mouth, closer to your skin. The other hand was on top of his, leading his fingers down, down, down. A nearly pornographic sound escaped your lips when he finally cupped his warm hand in between your legs, his fingers applying just the right pressure to your clothed clit. You felt him smile against your throat, before resuming his languid assault on your neck. You moved your hips against his hand as he continued massaging your aching cunt incredibly slowly. “Please Rick” you begged. He was silent, but his fingers sped up incrementally. His other hand squeezed your breast, tracing your hardened nipple through your shirt. He hummed in your ear, clearly enjoying seeing you like this. You rutted your hips into his hand, the pleasure building in your core. Like a rubber band about to snap. He moved his other hand swiftly from your breast to your throat, slowing you down. He gripped it solidly, making you lose your breath. He turned your head to face him as his fingers sped up. You looked up at him, drunk on pleasure, and panting in his face. He smiled down at you, making eye contact that couldn’t be broken even if you tried. You were reaching your climax and he could tell. He stroked your neck, still looking down at you, then ran his fingers past the nape of your neck and through your hair. He gripped a fistful and pulled gently from the roots, forcing you to twist your head and shoulders even more towards him, cocking your head back. He gazed down at you through lidded eyes, studying your face. Your neck was now more exposed to him and he began kissing and sucking marks into your skin, his fingers never stopping, his other hand still pulling your head back. It was all too much for you. You were going to come. “R-rick-” you stuttered. He kissed a trail up your neck, reaching your mouth but keeping his centimeters apart. You breathed in each other's air and you writhed needily, wanting his lips on yours. You were moments away from coming, and let a choked moan escape. He swallowed it down when he finally connected your lips in the most filthy, needy, sloppy kiss. The rubber band snapped and you came hard. Waves of euphoric pleasure racked your body and you moaned into his mouth as he deepened the kiss even more. You could taste the hint of chocolate on his lips as you rode out your climax on his hand, your hips stuttering. He pulled away suddenly, right after your peak, and you opened your eyes in surprise.

You were met with the walls of your dark bedroom surrounding you, and Rick's blanket between your legs.

One of your hands was beneath your raised shirt, and the other was gripping Rick's blanket with an iron fist. Your legs still shook from your orgasm as you gained your bearings. It was a dream. You swore you could still taste a hint of the phantom chocolate. Even though no one had seen, you couldn’t help but feel embarrassed at your… wet dream? Sex dream? Whatever it was. Your subconscious sleeping state had been grinding against Rick Grimes’ blanket as you slept. The dream had felt so real it was unnerving, and you were having difficulty returning to reality. But you also oddly felt better. Maybe it was all out of your system now, and things could just be normal. You were refreshed. Except for the fact that you were extremely thirsty. All that sex dreaming, your brain chimed in. You reached for your phone on the nightstand, but accidentally knocked it off in the dark.

The dark.

Dinner.

What time was it? How long have you been asleep? Sex dreaming, you mentally corrected yourself. You scrabbled for your phone on the ground, flipping it over. The screen lit up, reading 2:12 AM. You had slept through dinner to dream about a fuck-fest with your best friends dad. Woof. While you were still slightly ashamed, you couldn't dispute the fact that it was fucking hot. You kept replaying the dream in your mind. It felt so real. You got out of bed, removed the bundled-up blanket from between your legs, and headed downstairs for some water. The way his lips felt on your neck. His facial hair tickling at your skin. His hands on your body. You knew it was wrong but you wished so badly it was real. Your body clearly did too, as you felt that familiar tingling sensation return in your belly. It made you want to get back in bed and touch yourself until sunrise. Get a grip. You reached the living room and began crossing through to get to the kitchen. 

“Y/n?” came a dark voice from the couch.

You nearly jumped out of your skin, letting out a little gasp in surprise. You could make out a figure in the dark, now sitting up. A sliver of snowy moonlight caught his face and you recognized Rick, holding a half-drunk glass of whiskey. “You missed dinner,” he drawled with a smile, taking a sip of whiskey. You were still frozen in the doorway, unsure if this was even real or not. What was he doing awake? “I- sorry. I don’t know what happened. I didn’t mean to sleep so long…” you say. He waved his hand in dismissal, “It’s fine, I know you girls had a long day,” he said, placing his whiskey on the glass coffee table with a clink. “Plus I’ve never been much of a chef. We ended up gettin’ Chinese food,” he added. Your stomach grumbled hungrily at the mention of food, and you clapped a hand over it in embarrassment. Rick chortled, “I can heat some up for you if ‘ya like. We can’t have you starvin’ to death.” He stood, picked up his glass, and walked towards the kitchen. You trailed behind him, “It’s okay, I can do it. You don’t have to” you pestered. “I want to,” he stated, looking at you briefly as he retrieved a container from the fridge. That shut you up. You sat at the kitchen island, your mind wandering back to your dream. If you weren't definitely, totally, over him, this would be pretty nerve-wracking you thought. Good thing I'm all better now. He opened the box of fried rice and, oddly, got out a pan and put it on the stove. Was he reheating it for you on the actual stove? “I really don’t mind, you can just microwave it. I don’t want you to go to any trouble,” you offer nervously. He dumped the fried rice into the pan with a sizzle, and looked over to you with a smile, 

“I want to, honey. Just let me take care of 'ya.”

...

Sooo, actually you lied. You needed this man more than ever before. Fuck it.

***

notes: tee hee hee, i was giggling and kicking my feet writing this. anyways thx for waiting the past few days I hope this is satisfactory, there's a lot more to come! Literally. PS I've never written a sexy scene before so lmk what u think <3

[wileys-russo]

Can I request one with Leah boyfriend vibes where she's like an annoying teenage boyfriend to the point where we get really mad at her and she gets super soft until we're all right back and then she just goes back to annoying us like always

I feel like that's literally Leah. That cocky smile does things to me

I really love your work 🫶🥹

teenage love II l.williamson

"honey i'm hoome!" you heard your girlfriend sing out sarcastically as her keys jingled in the front door. "hi baby." you greeted happily, the girl dropping her kit bag by the front door. "oh leah get off you're all sweaty!" you whined in disgust as she wrapped you in a hug, just having finished training for the day.

"training went really really well, thank you for asking baby that's so kind of you to care how my career is going." the taller girl sighed dramatically, refusing to loosen her grip on you as you struggled to get away. "go have a shower." you finally pulled away, shoving her off you as the blonde only grinned.

"you secretly love it." she blew you a kiss and a sharp slap echoed around the room as she smacked your bum before jogging upstairs before you could tell her off for it.

with a roll of your eyes you disapeared back into the laundry, folding your girlfriends clean washing and humming along to the song playing from your phone tucked in your back pocket. you didn't hear leah return however a pile of dirty clothes landing on your head certainly alerted you to her presence.

"seriously?" you turned quickly with a glare and yanked them off, throwing them at her in distaste as she only gave you a cheeky smile and moved next to you to load them into the machine.

"you're so annoying." you grumbled under your breath, smacking her hands away as they poked at your side and she was momentarily distracted by fiddling around with the settings of the washer.

"oh my god move i'll do it." you sighed in frustration, pushing her to the side and setting up the machine, clicking for it to began the cycle, glaring at the blonde over your shoulder as she once again smacked your bum with a cheeky smile.

"even though i know that you know how to use the washer." you warned her as she pulled herself to sit up on the dryer, well aware leah only pretended not to know how to do things knowing you'd just take over and do them for her.

"excuse me babe i don't take lightly to these heinous accusations." the blonde gasped, clutching a hand to her chest as you ignored her and went back to folding her clean clothes.

"don't." you warned as your girlfriend kicked you lightly from behind, swinging her long legs as she remained perched on the dryer with a grin. you bit your tongue as she did it again and again, hoping she'd get bored and leave if you just ignored her, which usually worked since she had the attention span about as long as a blink.

you got your wish as she hopped down from the dryer, kissing your cheek sweetly as she passed by. though the nice moment was ruined as she pushed over the neatly folded stack of clothes, sprinting out of the room as they toppled to the floor.

"leah!" you yelled after her, dragging your hands down your face with a groan. "honestly and she's supposed to be older?" you muttered to yourself with a huff as you shoved her clean clothes into a basket.

"here's your clothes and your kit for tomorrow, fold them or leave them on the floor. i don't care!" you dumped the basket upside down beside the blonde on the lounge. "oh these are so warm, how did you know i was cold?" the taller girl made a point to lay down among the pile of clothes with a content sigh.

you bit the inside of your cheek as she smiled at you smugly, turning on heel and walking away, determined not to give her the satisfaction of your annoyance, you could swear she was a sixteen year old teenage boy and not a twenty six year old woman.

how she could switch from being so serious and stone faced on the pitch to sometimes the most infuriatingly immature human being you've ever met was a mystery you were yet to solve. she was lucky she was so annoyingly attractive and you were so in love with her or else you may have covered up her murder by now.

having a rare moment of peace you put away your own clean clothes in the bedroom, hearing the occasional pelt of your girlfriends laughter from downstairs as she entertained herself with a movie.

with a sigh you put away the trainers she'd tossed around the room when trying to decide which pair to wear today, full well knowing it would be you who tripped over them in three days time when they were still there.

you let out a loud scream as the tall blonde zapped you in the ribs from behind, you'd not even heard her come up. "don't do that!" you breathed out shakily, shoving her away with a glare. "i'm sorryyy." she sung out, pulling you into a hug as you kept your arms by your side.

"oh baby you've forgotten how to hug. well look we get these, and we put them here-" the girl grabbed your wrists, wrapping your arms around her back. "and then we squeeze!" you yelped as she suddenly picked you up off the ground, forcing you to cling onto her tightly.

"-and thats how you hug, you're welcome." the girl smirked, her hands gripping your thighs holding you up.

"you're insufferable you know that?"

~

"oo can i have a sandwich please babe?" you asked politely as your girlfriend returned to her spot beside you on the lounge, your errands for the day finally done meaning you could relax.

"sure. the bread is over there, and the ham is in the fridge." leah answered with a mouthful of food, pointing over her shoulder, eyes zoned in on the tv as you scoffed. "you're literally the worst." you smacked her leg hard and stood to your feet.

"oh thank you." your own sandwich that you made was snatched from your hand as you sat back down, leah taking a large bite as you stared at the smirking blonde in disbelief. you launched yourself at her as she laughed and held it out of reach, easily a good foot or two taller than you were.

"do you really want to do this? you know i'll win." leah grinned as you tried to grab your food back, climbing practically on top of her. "gimme it! god you're so annoying!" you grunted, leah taking another bite of the sandwich to spite you as she pushed you easily away with her free hand.

"leah!" you glared as she pressed her foot to your chest, long legs holding you off as she continued to eat your sandwich. "okay i have had enough!" you snapped, shooting to your feet as your girlfriend took the final bite, making a point to lick her fingers clean.

"you are always going out of your way to wind me up, you purposefully do the most basic tasks wrong so that i have to do them, you can't pick up after yourself, i do all the cooking and the cleaning, you lick your fucking finger and shove it in my ear, you-" you continued to rant, leah simply watching you with a cocky smile and her arms folded over her chest, man spreading arrogantly as she always did.

"what the fuck are you smiling at?" you spat, face twisted into a murderous glare with your fists balled by your sides. "you, you're just so gorgeous." she complimented, taking you off guard a little as you came down to earth, un-clenching your hands and taking a deep breath.

"come here." the blonde chuckled, grabbing the waistband of your shorts and tugging you to sit on her lap. "i love you so very much my girl, and i appreciate everything you do for me. it doesn't go unnoticed and i'll make more of an effort to help out." leah spoke, rarely serious for once as you nodded.

"that would be nice, thank you." "but not all the time...you look way too fit when you're pissed off with me." "god you are annoying."

[ladykailitha]

The Caged Bird Still Sings Part 4

Just a heads up tomorrow is the start of my posting hiatus. I will still do WIP Wednesdays and will be posting headcanons and stuff like that during that time. I will begin posting again on Sunday Sept. 1st. I haven't decided which story will get each slot, or if I just post based on vibes. Most likely vibes if I'm honest.

In this we get the first of Eddie's presents to Steve, Eddie refutes the stupid Steve charges, and Steve remembers something important that he forgot.

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3

~

Steve was living it up in the pool. His parents had an outdoor heated pool, but it was more for leisure than laps because of it’s weird oblong shape. But this? It had an outdoor pool, but the indoor pool was Olympic sized. Like proper with the lane lines painted on the bottom and everything.

So he practiced his backstroke and butterfly. And by the time he got out his muscles were deliciously sore and his skin was wrinkly. He showered and then padded over to the sauna to relax his ache muscles.

As he was the only one there, he set the temperature to slightly hotter than warm but not scorching. He wanted to rest his muscles not sweat out every toxin in his body. Once he was feeling good enough, he got dressed and walked back to his hotel.

He looked at the swimsuit in his hand and realized he wouldn’t have do laundry here if he didn’t want to. Wow. His mom always made him do his laundry even though they had a maid who would wash his parents’.

Steve looked at his watch and decided it was time for some dinner. He threw the swimsuit into the laundry basket and went to go blow dry his hair. He pulled out his but then noticed the one already on the counter. His eyes flicked between the two and there was no doubt that the one the hotel provided was way better than his.

He put his back in his bag and turned on the hotel’s hair dryer. It never overheated or would start to smell half way through the process. He ran a little gel through his hair and spritzed his hair three times with the hair spray.

He admired himself in mirror a moment. He was good looking. He knew that. But he never in his wildest dreams thought he had the looks to pull a rockstar. Like that was crazy levels of confidence. But looking in the mirror just now, maybe he could see what Eddie saw.

Steve walked up the table that had his wallet and picked it up. He pulled out his fake ID, the one that got him this cushy hotel room. He wouldn’t be able to use it for god knows how long, but he wanted to keep it. As a memento of sorts. God. He was already feeling melancholic about the whole thing and it had only been five hours.

That was when he spotted it. On the bed was a big white box. He frowned and walked up to it slowly. He wasn’t worried about people getting in. This was a hotel. It was probably put there by housekeeping or even the concierge. He knew better than to keep anything in his room that might interest a snoop.

He just wondered who gave it to him. He picked up the card and read it.

-To my little Canary

A parting gift from me.

Promise me you’ll wear it and think of me often

-Your Eddie

Steve lifted the lid of the box and inside was the most beautiful silk pajamas he had ever seen. It was a short-sleeved button up that stopped just an inch or so below the waistband of the matching shorts. The shorts themselves weren’t very long, not quite booty shorts level, but close. Both in a soft, light yellow color. Perfect for summer time.

He ran over to the phone and quickly dialed Eddie’s cellphone.

“Hello?” the warm, dulcet tones answered.

“Eddie?” Steve asked, even he knew it was. He was just so excited.

“My little Canary,” Eddie purred. “I take it you got your present.”

“I did,” Steve said, twirling the cord around his finger. “They’re beautiful. I can’t wait to wear them tonight.”

“Good,” Eddie said, a smile evident in his tone. “I hope I go the size right. Did you do anything fun today?”

Steve told him all about his day swimming and the sauna. He even told him about the hair dryer because he was just that excited about it all.

“That sounds great, little Canary,” Eddie said, his fondness oozing through in his tone. “I’m sending someone by with a card that I will load money on so that you can get things like gas for your car and other things for your personal hygiene, as I assume you’ll want to buy that stuff yourself.”

“You didn’t have to do that,” Steve found himself saying, almost against his will. “Could have gotten by with the hotel toiletries.”

Eddie chuckled. “Probably, but I wanted to give you the option of a choice.”

Steve blushed deeply, glad that Eddie couldn’t see him in that moment.

“Look, little Canary,” Eddie purred, “we just got to our location and I have to go, but I’ll call you after the show and tell you all about it.”

Steve bit his lip. “Yeah, I’ll talk then.”

He hung up after they said their goodbyes with a sigh. He flopped on the bed and looked up at the ceiling.

Fucking hell. What was he even doing with his life?

His stomach growled. Well, for starters, he guessed he was going to dinner.

~

When Steve finished his meal, which was even better than breakfast...He never had a steak melt in his mouth like that before. It was so soft and buttery and the potatoes tasted of rosemary and garlic, the carrots were covered in a glaze that tasted of honey and something darker.

He shook his head.

Anyway.

When he finished his dinner he went back up to the room. He resolved that he would need to do more than just swimming to keep the delicious food off his waistline. He was going to have to check out the gym here.

Steve looked at the time and decided it was too early for bed, but he got into the new pajamas anyway. The shorts were pulled on first and fuck. Steve felt sinful just wearing the damn things. They cupped him in all the right places but when he moved or sat down they didn’t ride up or pinch. He seriously thought about not putting on the shirt at all. But the desire to see the full effect won out.

He pulled it on and buttoned it up. And just like the shorts, the top was form fitting but comfortable. The V in the neck from where the highest button went (it didn’t button all the way up) just showed a peek of his chest hair.

He admired himself in the mirror for several minutes before he forced himself to go back out to the suite.

Steve grabbed the remote and started flipping the channels. He was used to cable as his mother needed her HSN and his father needed the soccer score. Not because he was interested in the game, but because he’d bet on foreign games.

But either his parents only had basic cable or there were a bunch of new channels added recently. And he was willing bet it was the former.

He found a late night baseball game from a Japanese league and started watching that. He couldn’t understand the announcers and he didn’t know the players’ names, but it was still baseball, regardless the language.

Before he knew it the game was over and it was late at night, finally time for bed. He got all snuggled into bed when the phone rang.

“‘Ello?” he muttered sleepily.

“Oh, darlin’,” the warm tones caressed his ear, “did I wake you?”

Steve hummed in the negative. “Just getting ready to sleep. Tell me all about selling out Indy.”

Eddie huffed out a laugh. “I’d ask you how you knew Corroded Coffin sold out tonight, but you spent all of last night surrounded by my fans. Even the stupidest person on the planet would have had to pick something up.”

“Mhmm,” Steve murmured. “That’s me, stupidest person on the planet.”

There was silence on the line for a moment or two. “Who says you’re dumb, baby?”

“My parents,” he said softly, “my first girlfriend before I realized I was gay, my ex-boyfriend, you know the one my parents kicked me out for? And um...the kids I babysat for are all like super geniuses, so they get frustrated with me a lot.”

“Oh my little Canary,” Eddie cooed. “You’re not dumb. School smarts isn’t everything. I’m living proof of that.”

“That’s true,” Steve said, a little less sad. “I’m talking to a bona fide rockstar.”

“Hell yeah you are,” Eddie agreed. “But let me tell you about my night and see if I can’t lull you to sleep with the sound of my voice.”

“I’d really like that.”

So that’s what Eddie did, he talked and talked until he could hear the soft little snuffling of snores from his Canary.

“Good night, sweetheart.”

~

When Steve woke up the next morning, the phone was still dangling off the cradle from where it fallen the night before when he fell asleep listening to Eddie.

Eddie had a great talking voice. Dude should do books on tape or voice acting or something. Maybe he’d tell him the next time he called.

He stretched and yawned. He woke up just as well rested today as he had yesterday. Which meant that as good as the sex was, and it was amazing, it wasn’t as big a factor in his night’s sleep as he thought.

He got up and went to go grab a shower. He hadn’t had a chance to use it yet, as he had used the swimming pool’s showers yesterday. He ordered breakfast and then hopped into the shower, telling them to just come in and leave it next the sofa.

He dried off with one of the most luxurious towels.

Steve stopped for a moment. He really needed to stop comparing the hotel to the life he led before being kicked out. It wasn’t the same. It wasn’t even in the same state let alone ball park. His life here would always be miles away from the life he left behind.

New cage, same as the old cage really except real gold instead of merely gilded. Better food, furniture, amenities. Same limitations. Can’t drink, but he could smoke.

So he went out on the balcony to do just that. He brought his food out with him and just smoked, watching the busy crowd below him.

Oh shit!

He scrambled back inside the hotel room and fumbled around for his wallet. He pulled out a little laminated card and dialed the one on the top.

“Henderson residence, Claudia speaking,” the warm motherly voice answered.

“Mrs. Henderson,” Steve whined, almost in tears at the sound of her voice.

“Steve?” she asked gently. “Oh I was wondering when you were going to call. Dustin has been worried sick. He went to Family Video yesterday to return “Ghostbusters” and the snooty girl at the counter said you’d been fired for sodomy!”

He winced a little at the harsh word she used. “I–I’m gay, Mrs. Henderson,” he whimpered into the phone. This was it, she was going to turn him away too. Forbid Dustin from seeing him, then it would get around to the all the other parents and he wouldn’t be able to be around Holly or Will. And–

“Ah...” she said, just as gentle and warm as before. “Can you help it? Can you choose who you love?”

“No, ma’am,” he whispered, hanging his head between his shoulders.

“Then why would I care?” Claudia huffed in annoyance. “The first thing a mother should learn is to love your child no matter what, no matter who. Now, if Dusty gives you a hard time, you let me know. You hear?”

Steve felt a swell of pride in his chest, she might have not had been his real mother, but he should have known better than to bet against Claudia Henderson.

“Here, let me go get him,” she said softly. “Would you like me to explain it to him first?”

A lump formed in his throat as he choked down tears. He forgot he wasn’t isolated. He wasn’t cut off completely from people.

“Yeah,” he said, his lip quivering. “If you would.”

“Of course, sweetie,” Claudia said warmly. “I’ll be right back.”

Steve didn’t have long to wait. Soon there was the sound of Dustin practically screaming in his ear.

“Hey, bud,” he said when he could finally get a word in.

There was a sniffle. “Why didn’t you call me and Ma? We would have taken you in.”

Steve’s heart swelled again, this time in utter love for this butthead. “Because my dad would have seen to it that she lost her job at the library and with your dad having just passed, I couldn’t do that to you, to either of you, okay?”

There was another sniffle. “Okay...”

“Here,” Steve said, “I can’t tell you where I am right now, because no doubt my dad is trying to run me out of town, but I can give you a phone number to call. I might not always be there, but you can leave a message and I’ll call you back.”

“I guess that’s acceptable,” Dustin huffed. “Can I tell everyone you’re okay?”

Everyone meant his kids. Max, Elle, Will, Mike, Lucas, and Erica. And well, Holly, too. But she was too young to really understand what was going on. Technically Erica should be in that same category but she was too smart to be left out. Steve didn’t even bother trying most days.

“Yeah, bud,” he murmured. “You can tell people I’m safe. Just keep the number to yourself for now. I don’t want my dad knowing where I am.”

“Roger that!” Dustin said.

They talked for a few moments longer before Claudia took the phone back.

“I’m going to call the PTA calling tree,” she said, “and get the word out that you’ll be unavailable to babysit for the foreseeable future.”

Steve hummed. “I think that’s the part that upsets me the most about all this shit.”

“I know, sweetie,” Claudia assured him. “But we’ll figure it out.”

And he was absolutely certain if anyone could, it was Claudia Henderson.

He let out a sigh of relief for the first time since he was kicked out.

~

Part 5 Part 6 Part 7 Part 8 Part 9 Part 10 Part 11 Part 12

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[navybrat817]

It's a Ginger Thing

Pairing: Soft Dark!Nick Fowler x Female Reader Summary: Feeling a bit stir crazy from your daily routine, you share an idea with Nick that may be good for the other wives. Word Count: Over 1.5k Warnings: Implied smut, noncon/dubcon elements (you have been warned), gaps in memory, gaslighting, coercion, creepy vibes, Nick Fowler (yep, he's a warning) A/N: Nick and Ginger's Intro for my Disturbia AU! ❤️ Beta read by the lovely @whisperlullaby, but any and all mistakes are my own. Divider by the talented @firefly-graphics. Please follow @navybrat817-sideblog for new fics and notifications. Comments, reblogs, feedback are loved and appreciated!

Nick took you to the gym at the same time each day before he went to work. Exercising was your favorite part of your daily routine. It gave you a chance to get out of the house, stay in shape, and have some time with your husband before he went on his way and you got to work on your chores. It was also a good way to get some of your frustrations out of your system, which you could only do so much through cleaning.

A good wife keeps a tidy home for her husband.

You pinched the bridge of your nose as you stopped in mid stretch. It was difficult to pinpoint why you weren’t overly fond of cleaning. It wasn’t that you didn’t like a put together home and you would never look down on anyone who thrived on being a stay-at-home spouse. But it wasn’t a way for you to flourish. It was as if one day you just decided to give up on your wants without a second thought.

What did I want to do before we moved to The Haven? I had goals, didn’t I? Ambition?

You sometimes liked to imagine that you wanted something more beyond the duties of a housewife. Something exciting or a job that could help people in some way. It was possible to support Nick in the ways he needed while having something of our own. Was that too much to ask?

Yes. Because Nick helps so many with his job, along with taking care of me. Supporting him should be enough.

“What’s wrong?” Nick asked when you quickly finished stretching.

“Nothing,” you said, putting your hands on your hips as his bright blue eyes focused on you. Seeing him in his workout clothes, the taut muscles defined through the fabric, made it difficult to concentrate. “Just don’t really think I’m up for doing any housework today.”

“Your head bothering you?” he asked, taking a sip of water with an unwavering gaze.

Nick was a little different from some of the men you knew in the neighborhood. From what you observed, Steve ruled his home with an iron fist and he expected Cherry to fall in line. You had to bite back a retort more than once when you saw how he treated her, especially since she was so kind. Scott was one of the nicest guys on the block, but traditional in that he expected Rose to find fulfillment as a homemaker and future mother. Andy and Ruby, you still weren’t quite sure how they fit together, but they at least seemed happy.

But Nick? It didn’t bother him if you skipped cooking one night to order takeout or if you let laundry go for a day. The last time you snapped at him to put his own plate in the dishwasher, he laughed and bent you over the kitchen table until you were a drooling mess. All while telling you he loved the fire inside you. Because at the end of the day, he wanted you by his side and in his bed.

That was the only true rule he enforced: Don’t ever leave him.

And why would I? Nick Fowler is the man I want to spend the rest of my life with.

“I think you went away there for a second,” he said.

“Sorry. Guess my head is bothering me,” you replied, graciously accepting the other bottle as he handed it over.

You never expected to crave fruit infused water, but it soothed the aches in your body. You once asked if he put muscle relaxers or something in your drinks since you always seemed to feel better once you had them. He said “yes” with the most serious expression before he winked. And you promptly dumped your drink out. He had to make them in front of you for a week straight before you took them again without question. It didn’t matter that it was a joke to him because you took it seriously.

Nick wouldn’t hurt me though. He loves me with his entire being.

“So, I was thinking,” you began, pausing to take a large sip.

“That can’t be good,” he joked, chuckling when you grabbed his towel to toss it at him. “Kidding! I was kidding. What’s going on in that beautiful brain of yours?”

I don’t know half the time and that scares me.

“I was thinking that it might be good if I taught the girls a little bit of self-defense. Maybe we can rent out a spot here? Or I can even teach it in our backyard?” You told him, giving him a pleading smile. “What do you think?”

“Why would you want to do that?” he asked, motioning for you to follow him to one of the sparring mats.

Where Nick goes, I’ll follow him.

“It would be good for me to break up my routine a little bit. I love our time here at the gym and it’s fun hanging out with the girls, but I think it might be good for all of us. I know that we live in a safe neighborhood, but you never know what'll happen.”

“I'm sure Ruby can defend herself just fine,” he joked, running a hand through his short hair. You could tell he was trying to get your attention on him and not the topic at hand.

“And what about Cherry and Rose?” you asked. “And didn’t you say someone is living with Bucky now? What about her?”

“Plum. We haven’t met her yet,” Nick shrugged a little. “I understand that you don’t want to stay home all the time, but I really don't see the need for a self-defense class. The others will probably feel the same way.”

“Of course, you don't see the need for it,” you snapped before you could stop yourself. “You know why? Because you're not here. Day in and day out, you get to leave and go to work. The other husbands get to leave. And the wives? We’re stuck here. It’s enough to drive me crazy.”

Don’t raise your voice at your husband.

A shuddering breath left your lungs when Nick clenched his jaw and narrowed his eyes. It reminded you of a nightmare you had before you moved into the neighborhood. Of him chasing you down and catching you with that same terrifying look before he fucked you into submission. There was an ache between your thighs when you woke up, but he assured you it was nothing more than a vivid, terrible dream.

You felt so bad about it that you ended up apologizing to him.

A good wife knows when to concede to her husband and chooses her battles wisely.

“Whatever it is that you're feeling, you don't need to take it out on me. I'm on your side,” he reminded you before he took a deep breath. “Look. I can’t make any promises that anyone will be okay with a self-defense class, but I’ll at least ask.”

“You will?” you asked in a softer voice, bringing your water to your lips and deflating a bit as the cool liquid flowed through your body.

“I will,” he promised, taking the drink away from you when you gave a smile. “May I offer a compromise in case they say no? An aerobics class? This way you can still get quality time with the girls here.”

That didn’t seem like a fair compromise to you. How would aerobics help the girls, besides staying in shape? But the smile Nick gave you was enough to back down the rising words in your throat.

Nick knows the best course of action.

“I’ll consider that,” you said, gasping when he kicked your feet out from under you. Luckily, you didn’t get the wind knocked out of you as you landed on your back. “Nick!”

“Always be aware of your surroundings, Ginger,” he smirked, joining you on the ground. He easily caught your wrists and pinned them above your head. The position left you vulnerable. “If you’re going to help these girls, you need to be able to help yourself.”

“I can,” you said through your teeth.

I’m not weak. I’m stronger than he thinks I am.

“Yeah? Then get out from under me or stay there and let me get you off,” he said, bending down to brush his lips against yours. “Or maybe I should leave you hanging for snapping at me.”

You moaned when he dipped his hips against yours. Was it the control he had that made him hard or the fact that anyone could walk into the gym and catch you? It wouldn’t be the first time. He liked it when others caught him fucking you.

He’s a proud husband and there’s nothing wrong with that.

“Sorry I snapped,” you whispered, arching your back when he tightened his grip on your wrists.

“Why don’t you let your pussy show me how sorry you are? Then I’ll believe you.”

Whatever Nick wants, he gets. And I’ll be happy to give it to him.

Good life with Nick, right? Love and thanks for reading! ❤️

Masterlist ⚓ Nick Fowler Masterlist ⚓ Ko-Fi

[profounddefendorcrusade-blog]

A Long Rant About The Koffin Trio

Note: So, this is my first (really) long post about this fangame, and to be honest, I was debating whether or not to even publish it. I still decided to do it since not a lot of folks talk about ts!underswap, and I wanted to give my two cents regarding my three favorite characters.

More important note: If you think it's gonna trigger you to read about Harry/Larry and Harry/Larry/KK as a found family, better click off this post. Maybe it's my inner aroace speaking, but I personally don't see the romantic appeal at all. Good for you if you do! I'm not trying to invalidate anyone's opinion; diversity is great after all :)

For those of you who are still here, I will start off by saying this:

Harry and Larry depend on Count Koffin-K for so much. I'm tempted to say EVERYTHING.

He genuinely feels like their father figure. I mean, this sentient fedora gave them a job while they were both living lives that were... bad.

He isn't cruel when they do something stupid and instead just looks deadpan. Sure, Koffin-K's not a perfect boss; he yells at the two of them and insults them (dude really needs to work on his temper), but I found it sweet how both Harry and Larry felt safe enough to tell him the truth here, which to me counts for something (pun intended) ↓

He even pranks them sometimes ↓

Koffin may not be perfect (he's gotta keep up the "evil" persona) but at least he 1) tries to give Harry and Larry a hint that he cares for them (has them both secretly do his laundry without them telling each other) 2) actually admits that he cares for them both equally (in his own way) 3) attempts to solve their disagreement despite him not gaining anything out of it

How they met is also interesting to me.

Based on their backstory, Harry and Larry were clearly hesitant to work for Koffin, but when they actually started the job the next day, I imagine that their conversation went something like this (either during the first day or at some point early on in their career):

H: "Larry, he could be like the dad we never had and provide for us and we could have all da money that we never did, see?"

L: "Huhuhu, yeah! Don't forgets da food!"

...and that's how the parade float came to be. I think Koffin secretly appreciates they made it, even though he says how he wanted the thing "as far away as possible" right after saying this line ↓

He also makes this face later on at the festival when he sees the float again cause it reminds him that the three of them are a family despite Harry and Larry getting on his nerves half the time but I can't include the screenshot bc of the picture limit

Heck, the two even built their house outside the keep, which to me suggests that they don’t ever plan on leaving Koffin.

Harry does mention his mother, and we learn that he's into embroidery (both making me think he's a a 'mama's boy'; maybe she taught him how to embroider)...

...but even on the ts!us wiki, the only relationship dynamic the two have is with Koffin-K himself.

Weirdly enough, we only know that Harry has a mom, but not a dad

Even though he was definitely unaware of this, Koffin liked Harry and Larry FOR BEING THEMSELVES. This is really important to me.

He saw something in them that others did not, even if it was initally just "your names rhyme and you give me the 'goofy henchmen' vibe." He sees them both as useful for what he needs them for. It may not be much, but it's exactly what Koffin's looking for.

In other words:

THE WAY HARRY AND LARRY ARE IS ENOUGH FOR COUNT KOFFIN-K. I mean, why look at resumes of competent potential employees when you can hire two idiots who are just as goofy as you

Exactly why Harry and Larry are so loyal to Koffin-K is unknown, but based on my interpretation, it has to do with 1) them desperately needing a father figure/someone to rely on 2) Koffin giving Harry and Larry a home, food, money, and a job that also allows them to slack off and finally enjoy life, and 3) him making them feel needed. Maybe not appreciated, even though he subtly tried to, but definitely needed. Serving under him became their purpose.

In other words, I think they're so loyal because Koffin "chose" them, even if he did that subconsciously.

Harry got the chance to be more than just a janitor. Imo, he was hesitant to work for Koffin at first because he was afraid that he would lose the only sense of security he had. I think he lived with his mom at the time, considering his low-wage job This explains why he wants to be rich (to make up for all the things he couldn't afford).

It also explains why Larry loves food so much (he literally slept under a dumpster bag and if he was both homeless AND unemployed, it would mean that he had to either be a beggar or eat from the trash. Either way, eating good food was out of the question.

It's also possible that Larry had a janitor job just like Harry (but unlike him, nowhere to live). I say that he might have been a janitor, since Koffin mentions how they could both do better than mopping floors forever, but maybe it was just an assumption on Koffin's side.

Whatever the case, their lives sucked.

There was also this one moment I wanna talk about, where Larry called Koffin-K stupid, and Harry pretty much agreed. So I asked myself why they reacted this way.

Maybe because it was easier to convince themselves that they didn't care about their boss than deal with the fact that he (maybe) always saw them as nothing but 'lowly servants'.

Seriously, Harry said out loud what they both wanted most of all. And that something was for Koffin-K to value them. This was more important to them than money and food COMBINED, considering their entire arc was about learning that Koffin needed them both equally

Maybe they were worried about getting fired, but I honestly don't think Koffin ever wanted to do that to them, no matter how many times they messed up.

Maybe they didn't want to be honest and admit to Koffin that he's a total dumbass so they wouldn't get in trouble with him. I mean, they did want to gain his validation/appreciation/approval/love, so it makes sense that they would do anything to get and remain in his good books.

I think the third scenario is the most likely one, tbh.

Might be a nitpick, but notice how Harry and Larry are walking next to each other here, but Koffin-K's at the back, just sorta... isolated, like he's not their equal? This is why I'd rather see him as their father figure than an older brother. The way I look at it, the oldest sibling is usually in charge, yeah, but there's still a level of closeness and familiarity between the siblings, whereas Harry and Larry hardly know anything about Koffin-K, ESPECIALLY how lonely he really is. Koffin's the one who gave them a purpose, became their boss, and as a result, they began looking up to him. In contrast, the two spend 24/7 together, bicker, and are practically inseparable, like brothers

Larry also explains how Koffin-K doesn't like leaving his study, but clearly neither Harry nor Larry reflected on why that is and just assumed it's because Koffin's 'stupid.' This reaction kinda rubbed me the wrong way at first, but then I remembered both of these dudes are street rats who don't know any better.

Look, I know the Boogiemen were supposed to fit this common "goofy villain's sidekicks" trope, but both of them clearly grew up in poor conditions, have daddy issues (imo), and feel worthless/useless.

That's why they want Koffin-K's attention so badly.

They need a father figure to reassure them that they're useful, important, and loved.

All this makes them three-dimensional and relatable, just like most UT/DR/UTY characters. It feels like everyone in these games goes through some kind of deep arc, and I feel like this is supposed to be the Boogiemen's

Sure, Harry and Larry are funny at first glance, and they're great at being comic reliefs, but at their core, they are misguided guys who come from poverty/homelessness. I kinda wish the feisty four from uty had more going for them just so I could psychoanalyze them all

Even though it's probably been a few years since they joined Koffin, at least some part of Harry and Larry doesn't seem to believe that they can finally enjoy themselves, even if it means doing hooligan stuff and boring chores. That's why they're 'superficial' and goof off and will grab any opportunity to act childish and materialistic.

A typical case of age regression

What lies beyond the surface is incredibly sad to me.

Now, this is sort of like a bonus section bc I want to explain WHY exactly I see Harry & Larry as brothers, and WHY I think they see Koffin as a dad again, maybe it's bc I'm aroace and I see family relationships everywhere, but the stuff below REALLY REALLY reminds me of these types of dynamics:

They threw insults at each other and had a literal fistfight over which one of them Koffin appreciated/liked more

They cried HARD (of joy) when Koffin told them they're both equally useful and useless, so they no longer had to be at each other's throats. He also said how he recognized that they're passionate about being his lackeys, even if their teamwork needed, well, work

I think it's sweet how they built the float 'within their first days of henchmenry,' according to KK. They could have easily NOT included him, but had apparently warmed up to him pretty soon

Harry wanted to call Koffin to save them + I love how he's CERTAIN he'll do it

Both yelled for Koffin (reminds me of Axis calling out for Chujin for some reason)

Larry called Koffin Keep their home (could have easily said that they left it at the keep...reminds me of the times Starlo called The Wild East Clover's home I really need to stop with the uty parallels)

They cheered for him (and got hit in the face with books)

They get in trouble with him

They apparently copied two of his attacks these 3 are so similar except that Koffin is a more 'head in the clouds' kind of goofy while Harry & Larry are more grounded... but still goofy

And this line... "And quit arguing, you two!" sounded so parental, istg

I forgot to mention some stuff:

After Koffin tells everyone to go to the festival, Harry and Larry quickly look left and right, like they're wondering where he is and/or what to do now that he isn't there. Poor guys really are dependent on him and like to be in his presence

They talked about Koffin a LOT throughout this game. Their conversations are either about 1) Koffin and what they're gonna do to please him, 2) Them bickering, or 3) Some shenanigans they get themselves into. Larry even remembers how Koffin-K always says: "If you're slacking, put some hustle into it"

Koffin doesn't treat any other lackey the way he does Harry and Larry, and none of the other lackeys seek his admiration like the two do

Harry and Larry were both jealous af of Chara for getting all the attention (right after they got into Koffin's study Harry said "Now whaddya need us in here for, see?" and I immediately thought that he wanted to add "you have a new favorite child lacky now so why don't assign more chores TO THEM")

Like I'm not sure if they were meant to come across to us players as a family but for some reason that's how they came across to me since day 1

The actual reason why I see them in this light is not just bc I love found family (even tho I do. a lot), but bc I feel like it would give Harry & Larry more depth than a romance between any of them

[reticulating-splines]

Olde Mill Inn

17th century timber-framed watermill with tavern, gardens, and rooms to rent.

Olde Mill Inn

One of my favorite books growing up was The Truth-Tellers Tale by Sharon Shinn. The main protagonists were twin girls with magic powers, but even more interesting than one twin being unable to lie while the other was only able to keep secrets, was their house: The parents owned and operated an inn! And it was such a great plot device for the story, with all sorts of people coming and going, enjoying the rooms, food, and drinks, bringing news and goods from far parts of the kingdom. It's no Leaf & Berry Inn, and there's no Truth-Tellers or Safe-Keepers in residence (yet), but I wanted it to have that same cozy, communal vibe the book always gave me, and a good opportunity for storytelling.

Originally made for a reddit build challenge, Olde Mill Inn is a Tudor rental residential with working watermill, quaint stone bridge, and four story tower.

Lot Features

50 x 40 Lot

8 bedchambers, 8 privy chambers (6 rental units, 2 with double beds)

295,357 Simoleons

Off the Grid challenge enabled

Fully furnished and landscaped

Fully playtested in all units/areas

All units come with Natural Well trait

Shared Kitchen, Library, Dining Hall, and Gardens

Ground floor Tavern with bar and separate dining area

Fishable ponds

Animal Shed and Chicken Coop

Firepit and Wishing Well

4th floor abandoned Tower

Packs Needed

! Essential Packs ! (build will be incomplete without these): For Rent, Horse Ranch, Cottage Living, Cats & Dogs, Get Together, Parenthood, Vampires, Spa Day, Laundry Day, Romantic Garden

~ Optional Packs ~ (decor or few items, starred packs have important decor): Growing Together, High School Years, Eco Lifestyle, Discover University*(library shelves), Island Living, Get Famous*(lighting), Seasons, City Living, Wedding Stories*(lighting), Dream Home Decorator, Realm of Magic, Jungle Adventure, Outdoor Retreat, Nifty Knitting, Vintage Glamour, Blooming Rooms

Patreon Download (free)

[milanned]

"𝐈'𝐦 𝐋𝐢𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠"; 𝑳𝑬𝑶𝑵 𝑺. 𝑲𝑬𝑵𝑵𝑬𝑫𝒀 𝒙 𝑭𝑬𝑴 𝑹𝑬𝑨𝑫𝑬𝑹 ~ 18+

𝙇𝙖𝙣'𝙨 𝙉𝙤𝙩𝙚: Hi and thank you for choosing to read my work! I haven't written seriously since my high school career, but I've missed writing, so I hope y'all enjoy this little number and I can get back into it 💋

Summary: You take on the task of showing the new recruit the ropes and end up showing him more than you bargained for.

unprotected sex, creampie, squirting, oral (f receiving), teasing, "officer" as a pet name/taunt

Warning! You are responsible for your own content consumption. This is a mature piece! (18+)

┊ ˚➶ ｡˚┊ ˚➶ ｡˚｡･:*:･ﾟ★,｡･:*:･ﾟ☆ x ｡･:*:･ﾟ★,｡･:*:･ﾟ☆┊ ˚➶ ｡˚┊ ˚➶ ｡˚

"And this is the West Office, it's where your desk is."

Guiding newly instated officer Leon Kennedy was not a job you expected to be tasked with in the first few months of your career in law enforcement as a fairly new officer. The order had come from your General, as he knew Leon's family before the incident. However, you didn't understand how a man surrounded by so much crime as a young boy seemed to be so...normal. Leon gave off some of the most naive vibes you've ever seen in a man and was completely wide-eyed as you showed him around the Raccoon City police station. He was barely listening, instead opting for a look around at the former museum's unique architectural structuring.

"Officer Kennedy," you sighed, placing a hand on your hip. "Are you paying attention? We have a lot to get through today, so there's really no time for you to be daydreaming."

"Sorry, officer." he sheepishly replied. "I'm listening."

"Thank you," you reply gently, opening the door to the Office. "So, like I was saying, this is your desk." You place a hand on the cool oak surface, your nails tapping against the wood. "It was mine when I first got here, a few months ago. It's the desk given to all the new recruits. You'll be working here starting tomorrow, but today, you're with me." You say, stretching your thickly-lined, glossed lips into a smile.

Leon eagerly nodded in acknowledgment. He was clearly anxious, his restlessness giving way to awkward looks up and down your body.

"By the way officer, you have a beautiful smile. I'm excited to be working with you today."

"Why thank you, Officer Kennedy. You know, I think we're gonna get along just fine."

┊ ˚➶ ｡˚┊ ˚➶ ｡˚｡･:*:･ﾟ★,｡･:*:･ﾟ☆ x ｡･:*:･ﾟ★,｡･:*:･ﾟ☆┊ ˚➶ ｡˚┊ ˚➶ ｡˚

Working across from one another in your office was how the day was supposed to go. And that's how it started-- innocent jokes cracked and laughs shared between the two of you as you passed paperwork back and forth across your desk. The occasional hands meeting and legs brushing under the table weren't intentional, nor were they unwelcome. Every time the two of your bodies met, your eyes did the same. Until about 4:30, when the day had started to wind down, all of your work was done, and you found yourself killing time by doing anything to coax that honey-coated laugh out of his throat.

"So yeah, basically avoid making peanut butter sandwiches in front of your dog."

Leon chuckled. That faraway look had manifested itself in his eyes again. You sigh contentedly to the satisfaction of hearing your new favorite sound. "Well, it's 4:45 officer," Leon stretched his arms upwards as he said it, his navy button-up lifting slightly. "Guess I'd better be heading back to my desk with these forms."

You nod wordlessly. You take the manila folder with his files and stand. You're walking over to the opposite side of the desk where he sits. Just as you're beginning to pass him, you're interrupted by his warm hand grabbing hold of your wrist.

"Unless you wanna put in some overtime?"

┊ ˚➶ ｡˚┊ ˚➶ ｡˚｡･:*:･ﾟ★,｡･:*:･ﾟ☆ x ｡･:*:･ﾟ★,｡･:*:･ﾟ☆┊ ˚➶ ｡˚┊ ˚➶ ｡˚

"Mmmh, fuck!"

Next thing you know, you're bent over your desk getting your pussy devoured from the back. Leon's in your folds like he's doing laundry. His fingers occasionally swipe your clit and spread your slick from your sopping hole over the sensitivity. He leans back, catching his breath in rapid increments.

"Such a good, obedient girl f'me." He slips two fingers into you. Your walls instantly constrict his meaty digits. "Aren't you supposed to be my superior officer?" He begins pumping in and out of your pussy, fingers curled as he hits your g-spot slow, deep, and firm. You can't help but squirm underneath his painfully slow touch. "You don't do this for all your new recruits, do you, officer?"

You shake your head frantically. Doing your best to choke back your moans, You reach back to grab Leon's hair and find yourself grasping at nothing. He's stopped to say something taunting to you about suppressing your sounds, but all you can make out in your dazed state is "Come on officer, you wanted me to listen, right? I'm listening, but now you don't have much to say, huh?

All you could muster was an "mmph", your hand still cupped over your mouth. Your lashes fluttered in pure ecstasy as his breathy words teased your hole. You hear him stand behind you and unbuckle his belt, then spit on his hand, whispering curses as he gives himself a few strokes. You turn on your back and sit up on the desk. Your panties are at your ankles, your lip combo is smudged, and your button-up has been unbuttoned to reveal some cleavage. Leon turns back around to face you, and your mouth falls slightly agape. He has a tuft of hair running from his navel to the base of his dick. His abdomen is decently toned. You spread your legs and beckon him to step between them, which he does eagerly. Your knees curl themselves around his waist, pulling him in. One of his large hands grabs your wrists so your mouth stays exposed, while the other aligns himself with your hole. He carefully slides in, giving you time to adjust to his size. You lean forward to kiss Leon's plump, pinkish lips, squirting from your earlier stimulation added to the new sensation of Leon totally inside you. Your walls rapidly contract around him. You both hiss in unison from the intoxicating pleasure, and he quickly takes a one-handed grip on your waist. Leon begins pounding your pussy relentlessly. You can't do anything but moan loudly and dig your nails into his shoulder, head thrown back as he repeatedly hits your cervix with enough force to rock the desk back and forth. His dick is thick and warm. You fit around it like a leather glove.

"F-fuck.. good girl," Leon stammers. Moans slip from his lips as his strokes become increasingly haphazard. He shoots his load into you and pulls out. A string of his semen connects the two of you. One of his hands grips your chin, and you share another sweet kiss, the two of you struggling to catch your breath.

"Remind me not to listen to you more often."

[lexithwrites]

humbly asking for 8 or 10 for prongsfoot :)

( no pressure)

No please pressure me or I don’t write stuff lmao and i went with 8 because i think it fits their vibe so well omg

NSFW prompts or send your own!

8. "I love you, but can't we just have sex and eat pizza on Valentine's Day?"

"She'll only come out at night, the lean and hungry type. Nothing is new, I've seen her here before—" James sang softly as he folded his clothes, nodding his head and gently shaking his hips from side to side. "Watching and waiting, ooh, she's sitting with you, but her eyes are on the door."

Sirius watched him from the bed and smiled, exhaling the smoke from his joint and turning to lay on his front. He was naked, still, and the covers were barely covering the curve of his ass as he watched James sing. "You serenading me?"

James smiled as he sang and laughed a little at the end of the line. "Oh-oh, here she comes. Watch out, boy, she'll chew you up." He eyed Sirius through his lashes and shrugged. "You want me too?"

"It's a nice choice for aftercare, I'll give you that." Sirius took a long drag.

"I really did need to get the laundry done."

"I know."

"It's been sitting there since yesterday."

"You're starting to sound like your mother, James." James just smiled wider. "Come back to bed." Sirius tilted his head at him, giving him those 'fuck me' eyes that always worked on James.

"I'm nearly done! Can you not be without my dick for less than an hour?"

"Only sometimes," Sirius rolled onto his back again and James' eyes travelled down his tattooed stomach to his hips. He licked his lips. Fucker. "It's Valentine's Day, I should get my own way."

"And what way is that?"

"Sex, sex, maybe some wine, and then more sex." Sirius grinned.

"Sex with a side of sex."

"A side of pizza, actually. That sounds good."

"We should have made a dinner reservation like other couples." James joked and Sirius raised an eyebrow at him. "You could have gotten steak!"

"I love you, but can't we just have sex and pizza on Valentine's Day?" James paused his folding and then gave Sirius a sly smile.

"Is that really all you want?" He loved when Sirius told him he loved him.

"Mhm. Just you." Sirius beckoned with his finger and James, as if on auto-pilot, put the washing to one side and crawled back onto the bed, taking a quick drag of the joint then exhaling into his boyfriends mouth.

"Happy Valentines Day." James whispered, pushing Sirius back down onto the bed.

[plushietoon]

jimmy !!! (4 the ask game ^_^)

Send Me a Character!

First impression Loved the guy, he's the king of catchiness in WarioWare. His family is neat too. ...I am confused at child me being obsessed with the guy's levels in both Touched and DIY but NEVER drawing the fellow himself.

Impression now I still love him, but well...it's not a fixation love. He has bigger fans and generally I think of him and them favorably. I like thinking about his chill side these days, which was his mojo back then. But man...me and a friend made cursed memes with him too. We love Jimothy Thang.

Favorite moment Watching his butt groove in Body Rock. Him bonding with the Cat dancers in Smooth Moves. The umbrella in the rain thing is stinking cute. I love it when he's sweet on kitties.

Idea for a story Him offering Ana ear plugs when she gets overstimulated by the club music and crowds. He privately confesses to her that the ear covering he wears are able to reduce noise when needed. He also knows she's not good with headphones, hence the plugs.

Unpopular opinion ...idk. I haven't heard a lot of Jimbit opinions. I do think he should have more fanart, any kind. Maybe he should also have dudes in his posse of ladies. Trying not to stick my nose into y'alls business. Also I vibe with him being trans. It's just not my default thought when it comes to him. This also applies to Penny too.

Favorite relationship Him and Joe make an interesting team. As an ambivert, I can relate to Jimmy coming out of his shell to drag Joe out of...well Joe's shell. Both are naturally shy, but can pull off a huge bravado of a personality when they feel like it. At least...that'll be my explanation on why both of them kinda "swapped" the 'verts. They just have both.

Favorite headcanon He gave the twins the cat plushies seen in Laundry Day the gold microgame version. Dribble might've made them though. Or maybe Jimmy sews...it's a mystery.

[lululawrence]

Why is hell breaking loose tomorrow?

Oh it’s for me personally, not like fandom wise or anything lololol

See, just over a week ago my dad fell down the stairs and dislocated his knee which then meant he has been in a brace for over a week and needs surgery. All of this meant he couldn’t take the trip across the country with my mom for my niece’s birthday and baptism that he was meant to leave for 36 hours after his fall, so my daughter took the ticket to see her cousins. That said, it’s left me as the caretaker for my dad and I’ve needed to get him to all his appointments and help him prep for surgery and get everything taken care of for his post surgery care as well all while dealing with my youngest two children and all that life already usually throws at us for the past ten days.

But that’s the calm before the storm, see. Cause tomorrow is the surgery. It’s outpatient, which means all post-op care is up to us and my mom is still across the country. So I’m the one who has to get him to the hospital, be there during surgery, etc etc etc as well as his immediate post op care once we are home. Thankfully my husband got the day off so he could be with the boys while I’m at the hospital and busy with all of that.

However. A lot a lot a lot of appointments and other regularly scheduled life things that are required for my kids’ various needs had been put on hold since I had anticipated not having the additional assistance with child care while my parents were out of town, so things have been fairly chill on that end the last week and a half, but see my mom and daughter fly home tomorrow and that means alllllllll those appointments that had been building up plus the additional before school starts appointments and sessions and sports practices and shopping for school supplies and everything will all be kicking off basically now too AND!!! What time does the flight arrive thus requiring me at the airport? 1:10 am. So after a day at the hospital and caring for my dad, I’ll be picking up my mom and daughter in the middle of the night from the airport.

If that was all I would chalk it up to a crazy 24 hours, but I’m not even gonna break down the way we have at least four conflicting schedule issues on Thursday and Friday alone with appointments and therapies that cannot be rescheduled due to time constraints and other issues, and my mom will probably be jet lagged and exhausted and of no help plus my husband will be back at work and my dad will still be recovering and needing care post op…….

Oh and wordplay sign ups open tomorrow morning. And the one day a week I’ve worked VERY. VERY. VERY HARD to get for myself so I gave some sense of sanity and doing something for myself was supposed to be tomorrow night and that… is no longer happening. And I need to get to the grocery store and finish laundry so the travelers can use the wash for all of their clothes when they return and the house is a disaster and I haven’t meal planned past today and the garden is practically overgrown with weeds and….

So yeah. All hell breaks loose for me tomorrow. As far as I know for everyone else it’ll be just another Wednesday. 😂

Anyway. If yall would like to send us prayers and good vibes tomorrow so my dad’s surgery goes as well as possible, I sure would appreciate it. And sorry for kinda ranting at you in response when you likely did not need to know any of this 😂😂😂

[snowbellewells]

Self Promo Sunday: "Run to Me (in the Dead of Night"

This week's re-run of @cssns fics is also from the inaugural run back in 2018. I'd had the idea for it running around in my head for quite some time, and the @cssns finally gave me the opportunity and the push to finally get it started. This one is an MC that picks up around the time the original curse broke in Storybrooke (end of season one/start of season two) and then goes wildly divergent. And there are werewolves... ;)

If you haven't read this before, I hope you will check it out and enjoy it now. I've always been rather proud of it. And definitely be stunned and amazed by the artwork created for me by @wingedlioness. I'm still thrilled just staring at it. <3

It can be read from the beginning HERE on Tumblr,

HERE on AO3, and HERE on ff.net

 By: @snowbellewells (TutorGirlml on ff.net)

 ~~ prologue: leaves on the wind

           The crisp fall air of late September blew Emma Swan’s long, golden curls back over her shoulders and off her neck, tangling them together and causing a shiver to skitter through her as the chilly breeze of early evening glanced along her bared skin. Even as she clattered down the front steps of the diner, eager to get out of the rather close and over-warm space and the heavy, grease-scented air, she still felt it: the sense that had been following her around lately, more than any simple gossip or slander would account for, resting heavy on her shoulder, of being watched.  Glancing around the outdoor seating area of Granny’s and down the quiet main street, deserted but for a few leaves blown here and there and Marco tinkering with the sign that hung over the door of his repair shop and pausing on his ladder to offer her a friendly wave and doff of his cap.

           Emma tried to shrug off the troubling impression; eerie though it was, she wasn’t sure that it wasn’t just some manifestation of her own jumbled thoughts and fears, a tingling in her bones that had been discomforting her ever since the curse broke, almost a week ago now.  Willing her hard-earned nerve and bravado to reassert themselves, Emma rolled her eyes at herself and how she had just mentally referred to the curse that had changed everything she’d come to know on its head as casually as if it were laundry day or a trip to the movies – just a regular little life-altering occurrence – and gathered the still warm carryout bags Ruby had pressed into her arms just a moment before closer to her chest as she picked up her brisk pace down the sidewalk.  Something in her psyche wanted to kick her for running as she left Storybrooke’s most popular eatery behind her, but Emma honestly wasn’t in the mood.

           The tiny hairs along the back of her neck prickled as she crossed the opening of the alley between Gold’s pawn shop and the library.  She threw a glance down the dim space, but told herself to relax and blew out a frustrated breath before squaring her shoulders and moving on. Whatever sort of creepy premonition vibe she was picking up on lately, it simply had to be in her head.  For one thing, this was the smallest, sleepiest, stuck-in-the-eighties town ever; beyond fights at the local watering hold between whom she now knew were three of her mom’s dwarves and guys she had learned were Jack Sprat, Tom Thumb and a definitely not-so-little Jack Horner, and the occasional clichéd kitten up a tree, nothing ever happened here – or at least, nothing of the normal criminal variety.  Besides, she already knew who the supposed villains were – and she was well-acquainted with the fact that skulking around subtly wasn’t any of their styles.

           No, the sense she felt was probably that same one she had experienced some time back, when Mayor Mills had run her smear campaign trying to overturn Emma’s appointment as deputy. Then, it had been judgmental eyes on her back and whispers that ceased when she walked into a room; now it was awkwardly hushed awe and averted eyes or slight bows when she tried to approach a group casually, and still the constant scrutiny – ill meant or not – and whispers, probably about how unprincess-like she, as their long lost princess, had turned out to be. In any case, the way it made Emma’s skin crawl uncomfortably really didn’t change that much from one case to the other.

           Curling she and Graham’s dinner more protectively into her elbow, Emma sighed resignedly as she walked on, kicking at a stick on the pavement at her feet. Thinking back to those unpleasant weeks when she had almost given in, packed up, and moved on, the upheaval of the last several days didn’t seem quite so intense.  Back then, it had seemed as though she was clinging to her tenuous bond with Henry by such a fragile, thin thread.  Graham offering her the deputy sheriff position – and thus a legitimate reason to remain in town – had been a genuine boon, and when it had seemed as though that might slip through her fingers too – as good things always seemed to do in her life – Emma had almost hit the road once more. She’d been so close to taking off back to Boston, or anywhere really, it didn’t matter… she was always going to be alone.

           No matter where she went, people never truly changed that much.  Emma had learned that long ago, though Henry’s boundless optimism and the quaint little town’s charm had almost let her forget. It never got easier to ignore the labels that had followed her for most of her life – brought back to glaring focus by the newspaper expose Henry’s adoptive mother had ordered in her bid to see Emma ousted from her new town role. ‘Runaway’, ‘Thief’, ‘Orphan’, ‘Hussy’, ‘Teen Mom’, ‘Jail Bird’…those nasty words dogged her steps for the few days after the paper’s publication in the suspicious narrowing of eyes and disapproving pursing of lips as much as in any audible speech.  For all too many moments, it had looked as though the little berg she had begun to hope could be a real home was going to turn its back on her. No matter how far or fast she ran, the barbed tips of both truth and rumor about her never failed to pierce Emma’s hard-won armor.  She might be good at pretending the wounds didn’t sting, but she knew now more than ever that she would do well not to forget just how quickly the tide of public opinion could turn.

           Even now, with the curse broken, and her tentatively coming to believe that she had not been an unwanted infant abandoned carelessly on the side of some deserted road, the lost little girl inside her still flinched at cruel jabs both real and imagined; there would never be enough time passed to make that completely go away.  The childhood and adolescence she had weathered was an inner wound that would always draw blood – even as getting to know Henry, his forgiveness for her giving him up, his boundless blind faith in her, and meeting her parents after all the years lost, and learning how desperately they had indeed loved and wanted her, how they’d had no other choice but to give her what seemed her best chance and believe they would be reunited someday; even all those truths being brought home to her couldn’t undo everything else she had known before.

           Upon reaching the sheriff’s station at last, Emma raised her chin from where she had buried it in her collar against the chilly wind and her hair being whipped across her face and into her eyes.  She turned the knob and pushed into the station’s dingy and antiquated entryway, also finally shedding the odd sensation of eyes following her as she entered the squat cinderblock building.  She could feel her mood lift slightly almost at once.  In truth, this was the first job she had genuinely enjoyed doing in years – not only because she was good at it and got paid well, but for the fulfillment and sense of purpose it brought. Clearly, Graham had needed the second pair of hands; they’d be putting the filing back in order until next December, and the man couldn’t make a decent pot of coffee without somehow getting grounds in it to save himself.  Still, he respected her and they worked well together.  Emma was determined not to let down her guard and grow too comfortable again, but this sleepy little hamlet could almost feel something like a place to belong – not a description she would ascribe to any of the other places she had landed before.

           A wry smile curled her lips just before she called out to let Graham know she was back with their food.  She certainly wouldn’t take back Henry’s appearance on her doorstep and his bringing her here – whatever happened next.  And watching the first real friend – outside of her 10-year-old and her own mother – she had made in years muttering to himself in his office, rifling through the haphazard piles of paperwork stacked all over his desk and running an occasional frustrated hand to swipe his errant curls off his forehead, she grinned even more warmly. They had exchanged one kiss – some months back now – but had decided to simply remain friends rather than risk the comfortable working relationship they shared and Henry’s hurt, as he cared so much for both of them, if it failed.  They had somehow managed to simply go on as if it were a one-time gesture of affection and remain the partners and friends they were – for which she was constantly grateful.  Graham was warm, open, supportive, and just lighthearted enough to crack truly awful jokes simply to see her roll her eyes, snort, and smile, but he was also capable and as driven as she was, determined to do their jobs well and protect those in their charge.

           Stepping into the doorway of the lamp lit office, Emma had raised her hand to knock on the frame, but Graham looked up alertly before she could even complete the motion; hazel-deep eyes finding hers unerringly as if he had sensed or scented her presence before it could be humanly possible.  She used to marvel at the uncanny ability her boss possessed; be it hearing, smell, or some other awareness, it was impossible to sneak up on him or catch him by surprise.  Of course, now that the curse was broken, Emma knew, though she was still trying to wrap her head around it, that it was his werewolf nature allowing him that ability – his lupine senses were heightened and made him effectively alert and aware of everything. Smirking slightly she had to admit to herself that wasn’t at all a bad skill set for a sheriff to possess.

           Shuffling forward almost bashfully, Emma held out the to-go bag in explanation, even as Graham waved her in without question, a welcoming smile on his scruffy face and stood to pull the visitor’s chair facing his desk over to the end of it where they could eat together more comfortably.  Graham took the still steaming brown bag that Ruby had handed her with an understanding and apologetic smile not five minutes before and began to spread their meal out on his desk.  They’d shared their evening meal right there nearly every night they both worked since he had hired Emma, and it was a settling bit of routine normalcy that soothed her jangled nerves as she sunk into the seat before her.

           Graham looked up at her with a grateful crooked smile and the bright eyes that Emma would challenge anyone not to be charmed by (there was a reason she had kissed him that one time after all).  “Thank you, Deputy,” he quipped, a playful emphasis on her title.  “It was definitely time for a break.” He gestured at the stacks of files and paperwork all over his desk at those words.

           Once they had both settled into their seats, Graham didn’t hesitate to take a huge bite out of the Philly Steak hoagie he’d ordered, munching happily and even closing his eyes in bliss with a low hum of satisfaction deep in his chest. For a moment, Emma could only watch, trying to remember if her friend – for all that he looked so trim and wiry – had always had such a voracious appetite and she merely didn’t notice before, or if it was a trait of his recently reacquired wolf within.  She was still sometimes too stunned to believe that both he and his adopted sister Ruby, her two closest friends in Storybrooke beyond her parents (that was taking some adjustment too) could both shift into large wolves by the light of the moon. They had been born with the ability in the Enchanted Forest, and that side had merely been buried along with their true identities while under the curse.  It was why Graham’s birth parents had abandoned him in the woods – or so he had told her, as he could only assume when he didn’t even remember them – to be found by a preteen Ruby on one of her nightly runs and brought back to live with she and Granny, folded into their little family as simply as if he had already belonged there.  Emma had yet to see either of them transform, but she also knew in her bones that neither of them would lie to her.  She had simply attempted to reconcile this one more bit of her new normal in her mind and move on without treating her friends any differently; even if, in moments like that, she did gawp at them in wonder.  “That good, huh?” she finally managed with a chuckle, amused enough by his good natured enthusiasm and almost child-like joy to put aside her own cross mood and paranoia of being followed.

           Then, she bit into her own first taste of Granny Lucas’ unparalleled onion rings and let out her own ecstatic moan at the hot, crisp, greasy goodness on her tongue.  Graham laughed out loud in response, the whooping, uncalculated ring of it doing much to completely repair Emma’s clouded outlook.  “I don’t know,” the sheriff countered her previous jest saucily, “you tell me.”

           Emma nodded enthusiastically, her own eyes alight as well, and her mouth full of her first buttery toasted bite of Granny’s grilled cheese.  When she could speak again, she conceded gladly, “Yep, you’re right.  Granny’s is the best – and Ruby slipped bacon on here for me again.  It’s like Heaven between two slices of bread!”

           Graham snickered at her creative praise, and the two of them settled into a comfortable silence, busily munching on the food spread out before them and humming in pleased enthusiasm.  Once they were finished, Emma began gathering up wrappers and napkins as Graham sat back contentedly in his chair, wiping crumbs from his front with his hand and grinning at his deputy in full-stomached satisfaction.  “Well, that hit the spot,” he stated cheerily, eyes sparkling when she nodded in agreement with his words.  He paused a moment, as if uncertain whether he should voice what he was about to say or not, then added, “I’m glad.  You look a lot happier than you did when you first came back in here.”

           Though she truly attempted not to – had long since decided in the months she and Graham had worked together side-by-side that the good hearted sheriff was trustworthy – Emma felt herself stiffen and begin to close off.  She didn’t need any more concern over her emotional state and how she was dealing; her mother was doing enough of that to serve for a dozen people.  The barrier she threw up was almost involuntary, no matter how well-intentioned she knew her boss was.  Old habits were hard to break, and even more so when she felt half the time as if the town’s very borders were closing in on her, that she would never find “normal” again, and as if her every move was being scrutinized and probably coming up well short of what must have been expected in a long lost royal.

           To his credit, the soft-spoken lawman didn’t push and delve into further questions.  He backed up slightly, hands raised in appeal, before lifting a file from the stack before him and turning to put it in the corner cabinet, offering her a bit more space as if he had read her mind. ‘No, more likely he sensed the fear or frustration on me,’ her mind supplied unhelpfully, remembering his heightened shifter senses once more.  Though he had his foster sister, and Granny, and Henry blatantly adored him, trailing after the sheriff or begging him to ride along on patrols, Graham seemed like a somewhat reluctant loner himself.  Emma sensed he understood self-protective walls and keeping others at arm’s length all too well, even if she didn’t know everything he had been through. He might be willing to listen, but he clearly wouldn’t force her to talk.

           She could ask him how he seemed to know, seemed to be on the outside looking in, but it really wasn’t fair when she was unwilling to share in return. Ruby had explained to her once – on an ill-fated girl’s night that only she and Ruby had made it to the end of – Mary Margaret and Ashley ducking out embarrassingly early – that shifters like them could only be contained for so long, and that though he had loved she and her gran and been happy with them, he had mostly returned to the forest when he came of age, living off the land as a skilled huntsman with a wolf he considered his brother at his side.  It was only after a month when he hadn’t stopped in for even a supper or a quick visit, that they learned he had been commissioned for a job by the Evil Queen – and when he had failed to return, she had feared him dead.  It wasn’t until befriending Snow White and hearing she and Charming’s whole story put together that Ruby had learned the fate of her adopted sibling was much worse: he had been made into one of Regina’s heartless black knights, his very mind and will subject to her whims and control.

           Henry had told Emma all this as well, long before her waitress friend confided in her with newly-restored memories post-Curse, but Emma hadn’t truly believed him at the time, merely nodded along to humor her highly imaginative son as he’d flipped through his storybook not long after she and Graham had shared their single, ill-fated kiss.  Graham’s collapse just afterwards, her panicked 911 call and what the confused Dr. Whale had vaguely labeled some sort of isolated cardiac event, had given cooler heads time to prevail where taking the romantic feelings behind that kiss much further had been concerned.  At the time, Emma hadn’t questioned his awed “I remember” epiphany, chalking it up to disorientation from his impending health episode.  Now she knew that somehow his memories had been returned to him before the curse breaking did the same for everyone else in town.  Henry had been thrilled, and she knew that Graham had listened to her son seriously after that, truly joined his “Operation Cobra”, because he knew Henry was right, and wanted to help bring everyone back to themselves as well.  He just hadn’t attempted to share it with her, knowing she would think him crazy and that it would push her even further from the truth.  Instead, he had bided his time, and helped where he could, waiting and hoping and believing until the Savior could no longer deny who she truly was.

           It made Emma chuckle lowly, and shake her head in amused disbelief; their whole world had changed, and yet here stood her friend, patiently waiting as he always had.  He turned to look over his shoulder at her sound from where he stood at the open filing cabinet, head tilted to the side as he studied her curiously, until Emma finally admitted, “Yeah, I wasn’t in the best mood.  It felt like everyone in the diner was wondering how I could possibly be their Princess.  My parents keep fussing over me and trying to make up for 28 years in a week, and we still don’t know where Regina’s hiding or what she might be plotting next.  It’s just…it’s a lot….that’s all.”

           She blew out a breath, still not sure what compelled her to open up exactly. To her intense relief, Graham didn’t try to offer empty platitudes about it all being fine and not to worry.  He merely nodded in understand, adding, “I’d imagine so.  Our world back in the Enchanted Forest – your own family even – wasn’t real to you at all, and now it’s all been dumped in your lap.”

           Emma bit her lip to hide its almost quivering a little at the emotion he summed up so succinctly.  She wasn’t used to feeling so shaky and out of her depth – and she certainly didn’t like it.  That didn’t even begin to factor in the weird sensation of being watched that she had experienced repeatedly, nor of being followed, though she kept feeling it crawling up the back of her neck the last couple of days.  That had to be just a reaction to the other upheavals around her –if she could only convince herself of that fact.

           Suddenly, Emma had to get out.  The pressures of wondering what the Evil Queen might throw at them next, how to keep her son safe – while at long last getting to actually learn to be his mother, trying to reconnect with her own parents, and trying not to disappoint everyone else looking on, was overwhelming her once more.  The walls of the station seemed to be drawing in, along with the suffocating weight of all that responsibility mentally added up as well. It really was more than any one person – a sane one anyway – should be expected to handle at one time.

           Luckily, it had taken her long enough to fetch their dinner, that a quick glance at the clock back out into the main room over the coffeemaker and microwave showed that it was nearly quitting time anyway.  She needed to get back to her room at the loft – if only for five minutes completely to herself to put her head back on straight – before she hyperventilated.

           Before she could voice some excuse about the supper not sitting right or needing to help Henry with his homework, Graham looked up at her again, warm gaze concerned and voice soft in understanding, “Emma, you don’t look like you’re feeling well…”

           She started to protest, even as she had been about to claim just that, but she didn’t want to seem like she was slacking, nor for her distress to be so obvious.  She used to have a much better poker face.  Graham waved off whatever comeback she was about to voice anyway. “Seriously, this place is so quiet they shouldn’t pay both of us to be here anyway.  I’m closing up myself as we speak.  I’ll put the phone on rollover to our cells at 9:00, and then I’m heading out too.  You’re only gaining about twenty minutes.”

           Shaking her head at his once more almost unbelievable kindness, Emma didn’t even try to protest further. Instead, she slung her jacket back over her shoulders and nodded her acquiescence as she stood.  “If you’re sure,” she finally caved, “but make me return the favor sometime, okay?”

           “Done,” Graham assured her, his expression genuine and further comforting her that he didn’t resent the early exit or her needing some time to regroup.

           Another minute, and she was out the door, hesitating but a moment on the curb outside to button up her red jacket and pull her knit beanie down over her ears against the chill in the late September breeze. She stepped out briskly, crossing the street and picking up speed as the night had already lengthened into dark and the air had gone chill.  It was only as she passed by the storefront with Dr. Hopper’s offices above on the second floor that a scuffling noise caught her ears enough that she turned sharply, peering once more down a narrow alley between buildings.  She could have sworn the shadows shifted as something – or someone – drew further back out of sight.  Emma tried to focus on the area where she had seen movement, practically holding her breath as she stared into the hovering blackness.  Whatever had alerted her was clearly long gone though. She wasn’t running around in the night alone chasing what was probably a stray cat, nor was she going to let her jangly nerves imagine even more monsters than the ones she had already learned were real.

           Turning back to face the street, Emma made herself move on toward the home she shared with Mary Margaret – and now David and Henry too.  She couldn’t help the foreboding that skittered up her spine; no matter how many times she told herself she wasn’t being followed, that nothing was there, she was no longer sure that reassurance was true.

           As if to seal her unease, just as she closed her fist over the door handle to enter their building’s stairwell up to the loft, the hairs on the back of her neck stood on end in the night stillness.  And it was then that a stark, shivering note rose on the chill air – coming from the nearby forest at the edge of town, but carrying in a haunting, wild cry, clear as a bell.  It was the howl of a wolf, letting them all know it was there.

Tagging a few who might enjoy: @jennjenn615 @kmomof4 @searchingwardrobes @jrob64 @apiratewhopines @whimsicallyenchantedrose

@laschatzi @optomisticgirl @tiganasummertree @spartanguard @therooksshiningknight @teamhook @revanmeetra87

@anmylica @booksteaandtoomuchtv @myfearless-love @undercaffinatednightmare @stahlop @xsajx @bluewildcatfanatic

@winterbaby89 @hollyethecurious @artistic-writer @belovedcreation @motherkatereloyshipper @jonesfandomfanatic

@donteattheappleshook @the-darkdragonfly @xarandomdreamx @elizabeethan @let-it-raines @resident-of-storybrooke

[superblysubpar]

Ooh I have to ask about Wave!

Love you, have the best day! 💕

Ask Me About My WIPs

Have the best day too, my love!

Hmm, "Wave" she's had quite a few different names. This is a one shot I started back in April, and I just haven't quite ever finished it or gotten the exact vibe I want down? It's a 90's -ish kind of AU? One where Steve is cut-off from his parents finally. So here's a bunch of info on it, cause I have no set date, and inspiration is far and fleeting lately 💛

summary: He's just a sad, rich boy, who doesn't know how to do his laundry - but he certainly knows what he's doing with his tongue.

the tune: Waves by Miguel, feat. Kacey Musgraves

and here, what the heck, have the beginning of the fic haha:

The familiar clink and ting of zippers and buttons against the metal spinning drum harmonize with the rush of water as machines start their rinse cycles. The buzz of the flickering, overhead fluorescents on their last legs strain to be a part of the melody too. Shouts of joy, flashing lights accompanied by obnoxious buzzers and the clicking wheel of The Price Is Right drift out of the TV in the corner. All of it almost in tune with the rhythmic blink of the red neon sign announcing the hours of Surfin' Suds.

The noises of your every day routine fade in and out, and if someone gets close enough they'll hear soft lyrics spilling from your cheap headphones. Britney sings of being afraid of love as you fold your laundry, your brain a happy blank canvas as your hands move through the motions without thought.

Despite the stinging of your nose from the owner's new 'not-quite-lemon' lemon floor cleaner, Saturday night shifts are your favorite. Usually, you get the entire place to yourself, allowing you to catch up on your own laundry needs. Everyone else is always too busy having a life on a weekend evening.

That is, everyone except for Mr. Clueless it seems.

This is the third Saturday in a row he's ventured to your little oasis. The neon reds and blues on the glass windows highlight the lines of his jaw and sharp nose. They add a warmth to his caramel hair that has to be as soft as it looks - though it seems to get more disheveled each time he comes in.

The first time Mr. Clueless arrived, he was empty handed and looked very lost and confused. When you glanced up from your magazine, and asked if he needed help, he gave a quiet and curt, "Nope, thanks," turned on his heel and left.

The second, you weren't quite sure if it even counted, because he never actually made it inside. He had a bag this time, and as you watched through the glass windows, he walked up to the door and turned around three times, before he got in his car and left.

Today, the annoying chime of the door rattles, and you look up to find him dragging a bulging, black garbage bag and a bottle of what appeared to be fabric softener. He has a plain white shirt on that reflects the neon softly, rumpled, though still nice light blue Levi's that you glance away from as he bends at the waist.

His Nike blazers that have seen far better days squeak against the linoleum floor, coming to an abrupt stop in front of the dryers. The heat on your cheeks receding as you bite your cheek, holding back a smile. When you glance up, he runs a hand through his hair, messing it up further, before he meets your eye. His head dips in a small nod, hand raising in a short wave, before he places both on his hips. He stares at the dryer in front of him like it was the hardest puzzle he's ever encountered.

His mouth moves and you slip a head phone off in curiosity, catching the end of his annoyed and frustrated, "...what the fuck is permanent press?"

Your mouth opens, ready to explain that, number one, that's a dryer and he should probably start with a washing machine, and number two permanent press is-

"Oh, jesus, Harrington. Wash your clothes first before drying them." He spins, dragging his bag across to the washers.

Mr. Clueless taps the top of the machine with two fingers, eyes narrowing as he takes in the dials and buttons. His face starts to twist, hand reaching up and rubbing at the back of his neck, fingers catching a silver chain and hair that's just a tad too long.

"Quarters? Fuck."

Your snort has his head whipping up to face you. His eyes narrow but his cheeks turn pink and you slide your headphones down to your neck as you clear your throat.

"Sorry, I..." you wrack your brain for a polite way to tell him his cluelessness was actually more endearing rather than pathetic.

"I'm laughing with you, not at you?" Your shoulders raise in a wince, shaking your head, "I mean...I...first time?"

His shoulders fall, but he laughs, dragging his hands down his face as he mumbles behind them, "That obvious?"