#gay little vehicles

[rocket-powered-socket]

IM NOT LATE FOR PRIDE MONTH QUIET

I don’t think any of the machines in this show are cishet have you seen them… I wanted to draw more of the characters in the show but I’ve been so busy this is last minute enough as it is. HAPPY PRIDE MONTH BOB FANDOM these creatures mean the world to me

These are my own personal hcs btw :•]

[cometblaster2070]

I love this scene so much, ruby really did NOT hesitate in immediately taking that missile down. she really said oh you can TRY to hurt my partner just watch this.

like i love her expression in this, the way this goes from being just annoyed or upset; this girl is genuinely pissed with cordovin, because for one, she's being completely unreasonable about this matter, and secondly, i mean, she tried to shoot at weiss and maria.

(also ruby appreciation here; this girl sniped a moving missile out of the air like????)

and because i am whiterose trash, here is bonus ruby and weiss after weiss safely gets off the ship and is on ground with ruby.

look at this dork i love her sm. the second she's reunited with weiss and knows that weiss is safe; look at that smile.

(also pls don't mind weiss's expression)

[trevor4ever]

scooter brother

[laundrybiscuits]

(FINE I guess this is a series now. whatever.)

“He’s where,” says Steve. 

“Off to see the wizard, my dude.” Argyle passes him a pipe. Steve’s not really sure where it came from or when Argyle packed it, but he’s got manners, so he takes a hit and hands it off to Jonathan. 

“Murray,” elaborates Jonathan, on an exhale. “The…you know. Oh wow, I guess you’ve never met Murray either. That’s weird, right? I mean, you were there, you were just…”

“Babysitting, probably,” says Steve. “Wait, why is Eddie meeting this guy?”

Argyle gestures in a big loopy way. It reminds Steve a little bit of how Eddie waves his arms around. “Eddie’s on, like, a spiritual journey. A dream quest, but…real life. The realest.”

“Not spiritual like church,” adds Jonathan. “Like, gay spirit. Is that a thing? Shit, why doesn’t anyone know Murray.”

“I don’t know Murray either, man,” says Argyle. 

“Is…Murray a real person?” Steve asks. He doesn’t think it’s an unreasonable question.

“Yes! Jesus. He’s real, okay? Nancy knows Murray, we—yeah. Nancy knows him.” Jonathan looks kind of dour and depressed, but he always sort of looks like that. 

“How’s Nancy doing?” Steve doesn’t really want to know, but it seems like the polite thing to say. 

“We’re fine,” says Jonathan. 

“Okay,” says Steve, who hadn’t asked that at all.

“Everything’s fine,” Jonathan repeats. Argyle reaches over to pat Jonathan on the head, then takes the pipe from Jonathan’s hand. 

———

“Hm,” says Murray. It’s hard to tell what he’s thinking behind all the facial hair and glasses. “Okay, I don’t usually do this, but…what the hell. Kiddo, you are way too young to be talking like that. Your life’s not over, and if you’re smart about it, it doesn’t have to be over any time soon.”

Murray sits back on the couch, kicking up his feet. There’s a hole in his left sock.

“You think happily ever after only looks like one thing? That’s the thought of a child. If you really want, you can make some kind of picket fence life for yourself, suburbs and all. But you’re a queer, so that means you don’t have to do that shit because nobody’s expecting you to anymore. You get to decide what matters to you.”

“I don’t know any way to be gay that’s not lonely as hell,” Eddie says. 

“That’s because you’re an idiot and an infant,” says Murray gently. 

“You don’t have a—a boyfriend.” It comes out a little too sharp and mean, but Eddie’s feeling cornered. 

Murray laughs. “Kid, what did I just say? I don’t want a damn boyfriend. Some guy coming over here all the time, eating my food? Hell no. We’re degenerate homos, we get to decide what to keep and what to shove down the god damn garbage disposal. I got some arrangements in place, and that’s the way I like it. The whole lovey-dovey romance shit isn’t for me.”

Eddie draws his legs up, wrapping his arms around his shins. His boots are probably leaving marks on the couch, but Murray can deal. “I think it…I think that is for me. I want that to be for me. Um. In general.”

Murray actually tilts his head down to give Eddie a scathing look over the top of his glasses. “No shit, Joan Jett. Your whole ooh please push past my defenses to prove you love me schtick is visible from space.”

“Fuck,” says Eddie, knocking his head against his knees. He closes his eyes, humiliated beyond words, feeling scooped-out and awful. 

“C’mon, it’s not that bad.” Eddie feels a tap on his arm, and when he looks up, Murray’s holding out a glass with about an inch of amber liquid in it. “We all go through something like that. It’s a rite of passage, just like it is to get so wasted you throw up on the stranger you dragged into a club bathroom. You’ll do that too. You’re gonna be messy and embarrassing anyway, so just enjoy the ride. And take the damn Talisker, it’ll help.”

Eddie takes the damn Talisker and knocks it back in one go, just to be an ass. Murray rolls his eyes but pours him another one.

“Ah, practical shit…” Murray scratches at his beard thoughtfully. “Been a while since I had to do this. Poppers are great, don’t overdo ‘em. Splurge on the fancy medical lube if you want but Vaseline or Crisco’ll do the trick just fine. And listen up, kitten, because you can ignore everything else that comes outta my mouth, but you can’t ignore this: always wrap it up. I mean always. I don’t care if he’s your soulmate, I don’t care if it kills the mood, I don’t care if he says he’s a blushing goddamn virgin. If he doesn’t want to wear a rubber, he doesn’t care if you live or die.”

Murray looks down at his own glass. For the first time, Eddie thinks he looks—tired. 

“I know there’s probably a big part of you that doesn’t care if you live or die, either. But you gotta remember there’s people who do. The kid who sent you to me. He doesn’t want to go to your funeral.”

“Yeah,” Eddie says. It comes out too quiet; he swallows and tries again. “Yeah. I know. I’ve—been to funerals too.” 

Murray barks out a surprised laugh. “God, you have, haven’t you? Think I was almost thirty, my first time. I’m sorry, Joan Jett, this isn’t a great time to be young and gay. Go make friends with some dykes, they’ll keep you sane.” 

Eddie, who has held Robin’s hair back as she ralphed into a bucket after losing a Peeps-eating competition with Steve, has his doubts, but he just nods.

Murray looks at him for a moment, then takes his face between two big hands and kisses him on the forehead. It feels neither sexual nor familial, but something beyond all of the easy categories Eddie’s known. 

“Now piss off,” Murray says. “Don’t get some crazy idea that this means we’re friends, or that you can start coming around whenever you feel like it.”

“So, just Tuesdays, Thursdays, and every other Sunday,” says Eddie, and ducks out before Murray can start cussing at him.

———

See, Eddie’s little crush on Steve is meant to be purely recreational. It’s fun to crush on unavailable guys he knows—way more fun than celebrities or whatever. It’s just nice, to feel his heart speed up a little when Steve’s around, safe in the certain knowledge that he’s never going to do a damn thing about it. It even feels good to hurt a little bit over it, achy and sharp, like pushing on a bruise. 

Yeah, Eddie knows he’s a little fucked up. But he figures this is harmless enough: a secret little vice that nobody’s ever going to know about.

Apparently, everybody knows. 

“Um,” says Jonathan, wide-eyed. “Was it…supposed to be a secret?”

“Yes,” hisses Eddie. “Because this is Hawkins, Indiana, and I don’t want to fucking die. Did we or did we not just have a conversation about the many and various perils this whole thing entails.”

“My dude, if you don’t want it to be, like, public knowledge, maybe don’t flirt with him so much?” 

“Betrayal!” Eddie gasps, staggering around like he’s been stabbed in the back, because he fucking has. “An unjust hit by Argyle the Assassin.”

“Argyle the Assistant,” says Argyle. “I’m assisting you, bro.”

“I don’t flirt with Steve!” Eddie screeches. “We’re friends! I flirt with you two dickwads more than I do with Steve, because I don’t flirt with Steve!” 

“You really do,” says Jonathan apologetically. “Kind of…a lot. Remember when we were out by the quarry, and you kept calling him princess.”

“As a joke!”

“Ohhh yeah,” says Argyle. “That was the day you, like…took his jacket, right?”

“I was cold!”

Jonathan grins. “Is that why you kept asking him how it looked on you?”

“As…a joke,” says Eddie, weakly. He’s starting to remember that it might’ve been even worse; the words do I look pretty in your clothes, Stevie may or may not have been uttered. 

“Hey, man, it’s no biggie. That was a million years ago and he didn’t say anything, so you’re free and clear. Totally righteous.” Argyle throws an arm around Eddie, who curls into him sulkily. Argyle’s tall and solid and kinda hot, so it’s a real shame Eddie can’t crush on him instead. 

Eddie sighs. “If Jonathan weren’t here, I’d ask you to make out with me until I felt better,” he says. 

“What,” says Jonathan. “You can’t—I mean, you can, and I, uh—support you? Should I leave?”

“Aw,” says Argyle, and ruffles Eddie’s hair. “That’s sweet, dude. If Jonathan weren’t here, I would.”

“What is happening,” says Jonathan. “I’m gonna—should I leave? I’m gonna leave.”

Eddie whines, “No, c’mon, stay, we’ll do that seance. That’ll make me feel better too. Maybe we can resurrect my deceased heterosexuality.” 

They don’t manage to raise any ghosts or any heterosexualities, but it does make Eddie feel a little better anyway.

[faroes]

beginning to actively mistrust anybody who doesn't post about or discuss female characters with the same level of investment as male ones.

there are definitely posts that explain what I'm saying better, but the amount of misogyny in pretty much every fandom space is genuinely exhausting. m/m is consistently most popular even when there are barely any men in the work. women are acknowledged by relationships first, demoted to male characters' sisters and mothers and daughters and annoyed lesbian best friends. most of what people manage to say about girls and women lacks depth, merely "omg i love her!" or "she's such a bitch."

and there is a lot of popular media where female characters are vastly outnumbered by male ones, so focusing on male characters may seem less insiduous, but... why are there only male characters to begin with? or better yet - why do so many people ONLY engage with media that centers men, or curate a fandom experience that centers men?

[bunny--manders]

I'm against American imperialism and wasting taxpayer dollars on military recruitment propaganda EXCEPT for when the Blue Angels are flying over my house and all the WWII vintage bombers are doing their little shows around town. Yes yes yes the planes are going SO fast!!!!

[widowshill]

having r/v as a ship name means i occasionally get little unexpected moments of joy ... a whole r/v expo... indy taste unmatched.

[james-is-nasqueer]

uuughhh fuck cops

[silverslipstream]

wrote another little snippet about Tony and Ben

fuck I hate you guys. get out of my head. shut up and fuck off (they won't). anyway yeah just a complete spur of the moment scene that randomly came into my head just now and I wrote in like fifteen minutes (ily tony you idiot. you just watch footy so you can ogle the boys don't you /hj)

Tony's not one for football. Honestly, he can't stand it. The chanting, the nonsensical rules, the weird tribalism that it pushes people into. Sure, there's something to be said for the rumpled hair and pumping calves, but at the end of the day he'd rather spend Saturday morning drinking coffee in the garden or cooking omelettes. He'd never be spotted within a mile's radius of the footy pitch if it wasn't for Ben. He's at the front of the pitch, looking over his shoulder and shouting some incomprehensible order. There's something alive in his face, something that jumps behind his eyes and darts in the creases of his cheeks. Tony knows he can never talk about it. Maybe that's okay. Maybe it's nice to keep some observations to himself. A burly, curly-haired player wearing the same maroon-and-turquoise kit as Ben boots the ball up the field, and Ben's body instinctively pivots and curves to receive it. It thuds against the inside of his boot, and he seems to flow around the ball immediately, as if the ball is a barycentre and he's just orbiting it. Seconds later, he's running up the field. The ball moves in short, staccato bursts in front of his feet. He whips past Tony, eyes down and laser-focused, and Tony can feel the air between them ripple like a train passing between platforms. There's a collective gasp as Ben spins past one of the opposing players. The other guy's decked out in white-and-black striped shirt and shorts, a cartoon prisoner standing stock-still. He turns dumbly in delayed shock as Ben deftly curves the ball across the pitch, just shy of the goal. At first, Tony thinks he's missed: then one of Ben's teammates appears from nowhere on the other side of the pitch, punting the ball forward with an almighty kick. It flies forward, shedding mud and grass like the world's dirtiest comet. There's an almost eerie silence as the ball barrels past the goalkeeper's outstretched hands and into the back of the net. Suddenly, as if playing from an un-paused tape, the crowd on Tony's side of the pitch erupts into whoops and hollers of excitement. Tony sweeps his hands into the air and cheers, involuntarily caught up in that strange frenzy of communal human excitement. The maroon-and-turquoise-striped scarf loosens around his neck.

(you didn't HAVE to buy that scarf in the football team's colours for your secret gay lover, did you Tony? no. no you didn't. but maybe you wanted to. maybe you wanted a bit of connection that you didn't have to hide.)

[lupinqs]

PTPOM ━━ paige bueckers x teammate!reader

☆ ━ summary: you put that pussy on paige… based off that amari live clip, iykyk

☆ ━ word count: 4.1K

☆ ━ warnings: smutttt (paige is a MUNCH, strap, spitting, etc)

☆ ━ links: my masterlist

☆ ━ author’s note: yeah i’m ngl this was meant to be a pazzi fic but i wrote it and it just didn’t feel like them at all so i changed it to an x reader. sorry y’all, pazzi stuff coming soon!

THE BUS RIDE is electric, the aroma of your team’s win filling the vehicle. Music blares from Jana’s portable speaker, the bass rattling the floor beneath their feet. The whole team is hyped, celebrating a well-played game and a well-deserved win. You sit near the middle of the bus, in the window seat, while your teammate (and girlfriend), Paige, sits beside you, closer to the aisle.

KK is stood up a couple rows down, shouting the lyrics to the current song being played, dancing in her usual KK-Arnold-fashion. Amari’s closer to the back of the bus, entertaining a live that you’d talked to for a little while before growing bored and reclaiming your seat next to Paige.

The music shifts, and suddenly, PTPOM 2.0 is blaring through the speakers. The energy around you grows in a single millisecond, KK and Jana practically losing it, jumping up in their seats, hands in the air and grins on their faces. Paige’s face alights in excitement, and she stands in her seat, clapping, before absolutely screaming in a way that you’re sure anyone within a mile radius can hear, “AY, PUT THAT PUSSY ON ME!”

You watch, wide-eyed and laughing, as Paige and the others get louder, bouncing and singing along to the lyrics, the bus shaking with energy, feeding off the chaoticness. You share a look with Azzi, who’s also sitting and observing, that is equal parts disbelief and amusement.

“Let’s go! This the one!” Paige shouts before grinning down at you from where she stands beside you.

You shake your head a little bit, still laughing as you say, “You’re so gay.”

She doesn’t respond, just uses her hand to ruffle your hair a little bit as she sticks her tongue out. You let out another laugh, slapping her hand away and going to fix the ponytail that she’s ruined as Paige returns to her singing—if you could even call it that.

Eventually, Paige, breathless from shouting and jumping, collapses back into her seat, still grinning from ear to ear. Her chest heaves with exhilaration, and she turns to you, her eyes gleaming.

Leaning in close, your girlfriend’s lips brush along the shell of your ear as she whispers, “Can you tonight? In the hotel?”

You feel a shiver run down your spine at the soft, teasing tone in Paige’s voice. You tilt your head slightly, stomach fluttering, though trying to stay nonchalant.

“Can I what?” you ask, voice light but curiosity piqued.

Paige’s smirk deepens, her breath warm against your ear as she murmurs suggestively, “Put that pussy on me?”

You pull away to look her in the eye, your own eyes widening, mouth agape. You slap Paige lightly on the arm, trying to keep your cheeks from turning red as you feel the blood begin to rush in them. You look around a little bit, hoping to God that none of your teammates hears Paige’s words. When you see none of them looking at the two of you, your gaze returns to Paige and you say, half-disbelieving (though you really shouldn’t considering she says things like this far too often), “You did not just say that.”

Paige just grins, leaning back in her seat as she stretches her arms behind her head, completely unbothered. “What?” she asks, feigning innocence, her eyes sparkling with mischief. “I’m just asking a question.”

You just shake your head, biting your lip to hide your smile and doing your best to not let your face give away how flustered you really are. “Enough.”

“Come onnn,” Paige whines a little, leaning back in closer to you, one of her hand landing on your thigh, which she squeezes a little. “Please, baby. I know you wanna.”

You shoot her a look, eyes flitting between her hand on your skin and her face. You roll your eyes, ignoring the fast-paced pitter-patter of your heart beating through your chest. “We’ll see.”

THE HOTEL ROOM door closes behind the two of you with a click. Paige tosses both of your duffel bags into the corner of the room as you, with an exaggerated groan of exhaustion, collapse face-first into one of the hotel beds. Your body sinks into the plush comforter, arms and legs sprawled out, as if the the exhaustion of the day and the game have finally caught up to you. Paige smiles a little bit at your dramatics, shaking her head.

“Long day?” she teases, kicking off her shoes as she makes her way over to the bed.

You let out a muffled sound of agreement, face still buried in the pillows. “So long,” you mumble into the fabric. “I’m exhausted.”

Paige slides onto the bed beside you, hovering over you slightly as her hand instinctively finds its way to your hip, fingers curling around the soft material of your shirt. “Yeah?” she asks, voice dropping to a lower tone. “‘S too bad…”

You turn your head slightly, just enough to glance at your girlfriend through half-lidded eyes, a small smile playing on your lips. “I might have a little energy left,” you murmur up at her, eyes trailing to the blonde’s lips.

Paige grins, leaning down until your faces are just mere centimeters apart, the playful glint in her eyes now mixing with something else that makes your stomach tumble. “Knew you’d say that,” she whispers, smirking wider as her breath fans across your skin.

And then, without any hesitation, Paige closes the distance between you, her lips crashing against yours in a heated kiss. You welcome it eagerly, body reacting immediately to the familiar press of Paige’s mouth, the weight of her presence beside you on the bed. Paige’s hand slides from your hip to your waist, pulling you closer, deepening the kiss with a kind of urgency that neither of you had quite anticipated.

You let out a soft, content sigh against Paige’s lips, your hand coming up to tangle in the blonde’s hair as you shift onto your back, pulling Paige on top of you. Paige takes the invitation eagerly, her body pressing yours into the bed as she kisses you harder, more insistently. Your lips move in perfect sync, the heat between you building rapidly as your surroundings seem to fade into the background.

Paige’s kisses soon begin to stray, her lips trailing down your jaw and then to your neck, each press of her mouth leaving a trail of warmth in its wake. Your breath hitches slightly as Paige finds that particularly sensitive spot just below your ear, your hands gripping your girlfriend’s back a little tighter.

“Paige,” you whisper, voice breathy and full of need.

Paige doesn’t respond with words—she doesn’t need to. Her hands slide under your shirt, pulling it over your head quickly, leaving you just in your sports bra. Her mouth returns to its spot on your neck, flicking her tongue out a little to taste the skin, while her fingers trail along your stomach, before landing at your bra, flicking at the fabric slightly. Your breath hitches once more as her hand reaches under the article of clothing, thumb brushing along your nipple slightly, before beginning to knead your breast.

Her kisses begin to trail even more, now sliding from your neck down to your collarbone, where she sucks with a ferventness that has your eyes fluttering closed, sighing at the feeling.

But before you can really relish in it, something else piques your attention. Paige is muttering—humming (?)—something against your skin between kisses, words that jumble together as your mind zooms in on the feeling of her hand on your breast, her body on top of yours, her lips on your skin. You focus more on her words, fluttering your eyes open, brows furrowing.

“Put that pussy on me,” she hums almost imperceptibly against your skin.

As you realize that she’s singing that stupid song again, you can’t help but let out a loud laugh and it bubbles through your chest. “Paige,” you say, voice full of amusement as you tug at her game-day ponytail. “Quit singing that.”

Paige pauses, pulling away just enough to look you in the eye, a mischievous grin spreading across her face. “Okay,” she says with a shrug, her tone far too innocent for the look in her eyes.

For a brief second, you think that maybe she actually will stop. But Paige, in true Paige fashion, has other plans. Instead of continuing the song, she takes the lyrics to heart.

Without another word, Paige’s hands move with purpose, slipping down to your waistband and tugging your pants and underwear down in one swift motion. Your breath catches in your throat, heart racing as you quickly realize your girlfriend’s plans. Before you can even think to protest (though you have no intention of doing so), Paige has hooked your legs over her shoulders, positioning herself between them with an undeniable confidence.

“P—” you start, voice already breathless, but the word dies on your lips, instead replaced by a sharp gasp, as Paige licks a slow stripe along your slit.

The sensation is instant, sending a shockwave of pleasure through your entire body. Your hands dig into Paige’s hair as you let out a shaky moan, the feel of her mouth on you the only thing you can comprehend. Her tongue moves expertly along your clit, and it makes your chest heave.

“God,” you gasp, fingers tightening in Paige’s ponytail, trying to ground yourself against the onslaught of sensation. Your body is already trembling, breaths coming in short, ragged bursts as Paige continues, her mouth and tongue working in perfect rhythm.

Paige, for her part, seems entirely focused on the task at hand, her hands gripping your thighs firmly as she works, her tongue moving with precision, hitting every sensitive spot with ease. Your gasps and soft moans only seem to spur her on, her tongue flicking faster against you, sucking more fervently.

Your world narrows to just this—just the feel of Paige’s mouth, the heat pooling in your stomach, the way your body responds with every touch. It’s overwhelming, in the best possible way, and you can feel herself getting closer and closer to the edge, the tension building inside you like a coiled spring ready to snap.

“Paige,” you gasp, voice barely audible over the sound of your own ragged breathing. “I—God, I’m—”

Before you can finish, the wave of pleasure crests, and your body tenses as you tumble over the edge, hand tightening in Paige’s ponytail, yanking ever so slightly, making her let out a low, breathless moan against your cunt. The vibrations make you shiver, and you’re trembling from the aftershocks of your orgasm.

However, even though you’ve finished, it seems like Paige has no intentions of stopping. Her mouth remains locked on your clit, tongue still working, moving in those perfect, deliberate strokes that have you seeing stars.

You gasp, body tensing again as the sensation becomes too much, the overstimulation hitting you all at once. “P,” you mumble, one of your hands instinctively reaching down to push at Paige’s head, trying to ease her away. “Too much—”

But Paige, ever stubborn, pulls away just enough to whine in protest, her breath hot against your sensitive cunt as she lifts her head. “Please, baby,” your girlfriend pleads, voice low and full of pure neediness. “Just one more. Gimme one more, baby.”

Your breath seems to catch in your throat at the desperation in Paige’s voice, and even though your body is practically vibrating from overstimulation, something about the way Paige asks—no, begs—makes it impossible to say no.

Before you can even respond, Paige is already diving back in, too impatient to wait for an answer. Her mouth moves with renewed focus, her tongue working your clit in ways that make your body feel like it’s on fire. Paige’s brows furrow as she concentrates, lapping at your cunt like a dog, movements precise, each flick of her tongue making you shake.

“Fuck,” you whimper, nails digging into the skin of Paige’s neck as your grip on her hair tightens. Your legs shake slightly, thighs trembling against Paige’s shoulders, but Paige just holds you tighter, determined to coax that second orgasm out of you.

Paige looks up as at you she works, her eyes locking onto yours, and the intensity in her gaze makes your stomach flip. There’s something about the way Paige watches you, the hunger and the focus in her eyes as she keeps going, her mouth and tongue relentless. It’s almost like Paige wants to commit this moment to memory, wants to own every second of your pleasure, every gasp, every moan.

Your head falls back against the pillow, chest heaving as you bite down on your lip, trying to hold back the sounds spilling from your mouth. But it’s useless—Paige is too good, her tongue too perfect, her fingers gripping your thighs just tight enough to ground you while her mouth sends you soaring.

You watch, mouth hanging open slightly in pleasure, as Paige pulls back a little. She smirks up at you, licking your slick off her lips, before her baby blues travel down to stare at your clit. She presses a soft kiss against it before pulling back once more, just enough to spit on that spot, her saliva dripping down onto your cunt. Your eyes nearly roll back into your head as Paige looks up at you once more, while her fingers slowly rub her spit into your skin, circling your clit, teasing your entrance before bringing them back up and around. “So fuckin’ perfect,” Paige murmurs, her voice low and full of awe as she looks up at you, her eyes gleaming with possessiveness. “So pretty, baby.”

You let out a soft whimper, your body trembling at the praise, the feeling of Paige’s fingers and mouth nearly sending you over the edge again. You barely have time to catch your breath before Paige adds, her voice even softer but dripping with ownership, “My pretty baby.”

And then her mouth returns, tongue lapping and working you over like she has something to prove. Her tongue moves in so many different ways, flicking and swirling and pressing in all the right places, and you almost feel like you’re losing your mind. Every nerve in your body is on fire, your senses overloaded with the feeling of your girlfriend’s mouth, her hands, her voice—just Paige.

Your back arches off the bed, fingers tugging desperately at Paige’s hair as the pressure inside you begins to build once again, impossibly fast, impossibly intense. “P—Paige,” you gasp, voice broken and breathless as you feel herself teetering on the edge again, your body trembling with the anticipation of release.

Paige doesn’t stop. Instead, she sucks. And sucks. And sucks. Her hands are steadying your shaking thighs as she keeps her in place, humming and moaning against you because she’s enjoying this just as much as you are. There’s a look of sheer determination on Paige’s face, her brows still furrowed in concentration as she makes you come undone beneath her.

It hits you all at once, the second orgasm slamming into you with the force of a freight train. Your vision blurs, your entire body convulsing as you come, a choked gasp escaping your lips as wave after wave of pleasure washes over her. Paige keeps going, pushing you through it, her tongue moving in perfect sync with the spasms of your body.

“Fuck, Paige,” you whimper, your voice barely audible as you ride out your high, hands trembling as you hold onto the blonde for dear life. Your mind is hazy, your body completely spent, but Paige doesn’t stop until you finally still, your breathing ragged and uneven.

Finally, Paige pulls back, her lips and chin and nose glistening, her eyes full of pride as she looks up at you, a satisfied grin tugging at the corners of her mouth. She wipes the corner of her mouth with the back of her hand, crawling back up your body and collapsing beside you on the bed, her hand finding its way to your waist.

“See?” Paige whispers, her voice still low and a little breathless as she presses a soft kiss to your shoulder. “I knew you had at least one more in you.”

You raise your brows at her, still trying to catch your breath as you ask, “At least?”

Paige doesn’t answer, just grins a little as she leans in, going to kiss you, her hand moving to rest on your stomach. You kiss her back, palm lightly splayed across her cheek.

“I brought it,” Paige murmurs against your lips, surprising you. Her eyes flicker with that familiar gleam, that playful but intense fire.

Your breath hitches at the implication, your heart skipping a beat. Despite already coming twice, you feel a rush of need between your legs. “You did?” you ask with a tremor of anticipation.

“Mm-hm,” Paige hums, leaning in and spreading light kisses along your jawline, trailing them til her lips meet your ear. There, she whispers, “Will you let me fuck you with it?”

You feel your heart stutter at her words, the unmistakable want tainting her tone. You feel your body warm at the thought, and the need in your stomach turns molten. It doesn’t help that she’s sucking a spot on your neck now, one that will surely leave a mark. “Yeah,” you say breathily against her.

Paige pulls away from your neck as a grin breaks out across her features—wide, eager, and filled with anticipation. She stands up from the bed, crossing the room in a few quick strides to your bags. You watch her, heart pounding faster as she rummages through her duffle, finally pulling out the purple strap. Paige holds it up for a moment, letting it dangle in her hand, her eyes flicking back to you with a teasing smile before she begins to strip off her own clothes, tossing them aside with casual ease.

Paige stands there for a beat, completely bare, her toned body all lean muscle and curves, looking every bit the athlete she is. She takes her time putting the strap on, adjusting it around her hips, the purple of the toy standing out against her skin. Once she’s satisfied, she gives you this look—one that makes your breath catch again—before crawling back onto the bed.

Your body is practically buzzing with anticipation as Paige leans down and kisses you again, slowly this time, her lips soft but deliberate as they move against your own. There’s something almost tender about the way Paige kisses you, even though you can feel the heat simmering just beneath the surface.

“Ready?” Paige whispers against her lips, her hand brushing a path along your neck and up to your cheek, which she cups softly.

You nod, your heart racing, your body already aching for more. “Yeah,” you murmur, the words barely audible.

Paige smiles and, with careful deliberation, lines herself up, the tip of the strap pressing against your entrance. She’s slow at first, easing it in just enough for you to get used to the stretch. You feel your back arch off the bed a little as the toy begins to fill you, the sensation overwhelming in the best way. It’s big—Paige chose one that was just the right size to make you feel full, to give you that perfect stretch.

“Fuck,” you mutter, fingers curling into the bedsheets as Paige pushes in deeper, slow and steady, letting you adjust to the sensation. She watches you the entire time, her eyes flickering with something dark and intense, like she’s savoring every second of this.

“Feel good?” Paige asks, her voice low and almost too calm, given how worked up you are.

You can’t speak, can’t find the words, so you just nod, your breath coming out in short, shaky puffs as Paige finally pushes all the way in, filling you to the hilt. The fullness is almost too much, but it’s also perfect—the kind of pressure that has you teetering on the edge of pleasure and pain in the most intoxicating way.

Paige leans down again, her lips ghosting over yours as she begins to move, slow and careful thrusts that make your toes curl. “God, you’re so fuckin’ perfect,” Paige mumbles, her voice dripping with praise as she picks up the pace, her hips moving just a little faster. “So tight around me, baby. You feel that?”

You let out a moan in response, your body rocking in time with each of your girlfriend’s thrusts. Paige’s words always get to you, always add to the heat building inside you, and right now, Paige is talking like she wants you to lose your mind.

“You take me so well,” Paige continues, and it comes out low and raspy as she thrusts a little harder, her hands gripping your hips for leverage. “Fuckin’ perfect. My perfect girl.”

Your breathing is beyond ragged now, and you’re trembling beneath Paige as the pressure builds higher and higher. Every thrust hits just right, pushing deeper inside you, filling you in ways that made her head spin. You swear you can feel the strap in your stomach at this point. “Paige—” you gasp, voice breaking as your hands grip Paige’s shoulders, pulling her closer.

The blonde doesn’t slow. If anything, she speeds up, her hips slamming into yours with a steady rhythm that has you seeing stars. “Fuck, you hear that?” Paige rasps out, a little breathlessly as she continues fucking you. She pauses her words for a moment, doesn’t say anything, letting the sound of your skin slapping against each other, the sound of Paige’s strap sliding in and out of your cunt, fill the room. “Listen to how wet you are. Shit, baby, that pussy’s so fuckin’ good.”

Your heart rate picks up, her words hitting you like a jolt of electricity. The wet sounds, the lewd praise—it’s all too much, too perfect. “Paige,” you whimper her name again, your nails digging into her skin as you shake with the overwhelming pleasure coursing through you.

“Yeah, that’s right,” Paige murmurs, her breath hot against your neck as she leans in, her movements becoming more deliberate, more purposeful. “My pretty girl. All mine. So fuckin’ pretty like this, baby. Look at you.”

Paige reaches down between you, her fingers finding your clit, rubbing slow, teasing circles that send sparks shooting through your entire body. “Fuck!” you practically shout, hour body jolting at the added sensation. “Shit, P.”

Your whine has Paige’s movements becoming even more calculated, each thrust perfectly timed with the pressure she puts on your clit, pushing you closer and closer to the edge. You’re moaning against her neck, almost sobbing into her skin, as she continues pounding into you relentlessly. In and out, in and out, hitting your g-spot over and over and over again.

“Come for me, baby,” Paige commands, pinching your clit and biting at the skin of your neck. “Come on. I wanna feel you come on my cock.”

The words send you spiraling, your body tensing as the pleasure hits you like a tidal wave. Your orgasm rips through you, and you practically convulse beneath Paige as your vision blurs, your moans loud and unabashed as you come, hard, trembling from head to toe with the intensity of it.

Paige keeps moving, riding it out for you, her hips slowing but still thrusting deep, drawing out every last bit of pleasure. “That’s it, baby,” she says lowly. She’s full of awe as she watches you fall apart beneath her. “Fuck, you’re so good. Always so fuckin’ perfect.”

Your breath comes in ragged gasps as the pleasure slowly subsides, your body limp and spent beneath Paige. You can still feel the strap inside you, the fullness of it grounding you as you tried to catch your breath.

Paige leans down, pressing a series of soft kisses along your forehead, her fingers still tracing light patterns on your skin. “You okay?” she asks softly, now full of gentleness and care and even concern.

You nod, still too breathless to speak, but the content smile on your face says it all. Paige kisses you again, slow and sweet, her hand resting on your cheek as she slowly pulls the strap out, easing you down from your high.

“Guess you could say you put that pussy on me,” she tells you jokingly, smiling against your lips.

You let out a tired laugh, slapping her ass lightly as you say, “Enough.”

[peppermintquartz]

Canon divergence in that Buck does call Tommy the next time he's free, asking to go up in a chopper (instead of the harebrained scheme of going to the BBPU game)

+-

"And that's my favorite view," says Tommy, angling the helicopter to face the Pacific. It's late in the morning so sunlight glitters on the water like diamonds scattered on blue silk.

Buck shields his eyes with his hands. "It's beautiful!" he exclaims, almost giddy with delight at the panorama.

"It is. And at night, I like to look the other way, at the city spread out before me." Tommy's aviator sunglasses hide his eyes but his big smile is on full display.

Buck can't help the shiver in his belly every time he looks at Tommy. It's clear the air is his element. Already Buck knows that Tommy is very competent - they wouldn't have pulled off the rescue otherwise - but here, without anything to distract them, Buck sees how the chopper is an extension of Tommy himself. A deft touch, a slight adjustment, and the vehicle moves smoothly for Tommy to point out different landmarks from the sky.

By the time they land, Buck's spirits are still soaring. He's spent forty minutes flying with Tommy, who not only talked about the mechanics of flying, but also answered almost all of Buck's questions without ever sounding bored. In fact, he seems happy that Buck has done some research before he came for the ride.

"Okay, now I really need to buy you that beer, and also a meal." Buck wants to bounce on his heels. He feels lighter than air, like he's just a balloon full of happy emotions.

Tommy grins, shrugging as he tucks his aviators into a pocket. "I'm free for the rest of the day," he says. Ducking his head, he adds, "Didn't feel too good leaving you alone the other day to go watch the fight, but I didn't think we'd take two hours to tour Harbor Station either."

Buck's cheeks flush. He remembers being irrationally angry when Eddie and Tommy flew off, and he did go home to pummel his pillow a little before sulking. But he's done the mature thing, which is ask Tommy for a flight demo, instead of something insane like figure out what other activities he would be doing or events he would attend and try to show up there like a toy surprise.

"Well, that was because I wanted to find out so much, and it's really your fault, because you answered everything in detail." Buck falls in step with the older man as they head to Tommy's car. "You have to be accountable for your mistakes."

Tommy laughs. Buck feels tingly and proud that he's made that happen. Daringly, he nudges Tommy's elbow with his.

"So, what would you like for lunch?" Buck asks. "My treat, as thanks for the flight."

"Sure," says Tommy with an easy smile. As they approach the car, Tommy halts.

Buck stops as well, a little concerned. "Everything okay?"

Tilting his head, Tommy studies Buck, and then his expression grows a little more nervous and serious. "I... I don't wanna presume anything, and I want you to know that, regardless of anything I'm about to say, I wanna be your friend."

Buck blinks at the older man. "Okay, um. What's this about?"

"Evan, before we go to lunch, I kinda wanna know what's going on here? I mean..." Tommy licks his lips, and Buck's gaze snaps to Tommy's mouth. "You're adorable and you're funny and, well. You're a gorgeous guy. I'm not... I'm not really sure why you wanna spend time with me. And I don't wanna get my hopes up if this is just me reading the signs wrongly."

"Uh, signs?"

Tommy's face falls. He glances away, wiping his hand over his mouth, and licks his lips again. "Shit. I've read you wrong."

Buck reaches out to touch Tommy's wrist. "Tommy, I'm not sure what you're saying."

Tommy looks back at Buck, blue eyes taking in the younger man's expression, and sighs. He flips his hand over to hold the tips of Buck's fingers.

"Hell. Might as well lay my cards out," he mutters, mostly to himself, and then looks - really looks - at Buck. "Evan, I'm gay. And these couple times we've met up, I really, really like how we click. I like your energy, and how earnest and open you are. And it doesn't hurt that you are one of the most attractive men I've ever met, and I really like spending time with you, and I'm hoping... I'm hoping I can ask you out for a date and maybe we can... find out if we could. If we could be more than friends."

There's an anxious cast to his features. Buck can see Tommy's jaw clench and the nervous swallow, and a part of Buck's mind is screaming static. Another part of him is frantically stammering, "I'm just an ally!!" But thankfully that part of him has no control of his mouth, because he instead steps closer to Tommy and-

Oh. Oh.

So that's how it feels to kiss a guy.

He pulls back slightly, but is stopped by the touch of fingers under his chin, and Tommy draws him back for a second kiss, his head angled, and-

Wow. Wow, okay. They're near the airfield in the parking lot and the breeze is cool and the sun is shining nice and warm and they are kissing, Buck is kissing Tommy and this feels right.

When they finally separate, possibly two centuries later, Buck blinks at Tommy. His face feels hot and his skin is tingling. With a small, happy grin, he says, "I would say yes to the date, if that helps."

Tommy chuckles. He licks his lips again and Buck forces himself to look away from those lips. "Okay. I'd like to ask you out on a date on Saturday night, if you're free."

"I... I'm free." Buck's grin grows brighter. He tilts his head. "Lunch, now?"

[am-i-the-asshole-official]

AITA for "using" a cucumber and putting it back in the fridge?

(🥒👌 to find later)

Please, I know it sounds nuts but hear me out. I feel awful and I need to know just how bad this is. Also, I intentionally left as much as possible vague as I am a minor and I do not want this to get removed for being too explicit. But the story will not make sense if I don't include certain things, please understand.

So I (16M) grew up in and currently still live in the bible belt, with extremely conservative evangelical parents. As a taste of what it's like, we have church 3 times a week, and church camp every summer. We are only allowed to access Netflix through a stupid content filter app and we can only use a restricted smart phone that is regularly checked at random by our parents. We get an hour and a half of computer usage every other day, and the internet on the computer is heavily filtered also. The only reason I have access to Tumblr and am able to post this now is because my best friend's older brother gave me his old android for my birthday a few years ago. His family is much more open minded, and I'm very close with them. I also think they have always felt a little bad for me with my family being the way they are.

I'm also gay. Obviously, my family does not know, and I intend to keep it that way. I won't go too deep into it, but it will suffice to say I struggled a lot when I was younger over this. The good thing is that in the last few years, I've been able to accept myself more and come to terms with what my own feelings about religion and faith really are. I came out to my best friend and his brother a little over a year ago, and they've been very supportive. I have yet to tell any of my other friends.

Recently, I've been trying out alcohol since my friends found a hookup. Something I have discovered is that I tend to get lewd feelings when I drink, which has nearly caused a few embarrassing moments around friends. Coincidentally, I have also been experimenting with... certain things. Being a minor, I obviously can't enter any of the adult stores around me, nor would I feel comfortable asking any of my friends to drive me there if I could. I also can't order anything online because my bank account is connected to my parents, and I don't have a shipping address I'm comfortable using for those items either. So instead, I use household objects that belong to me and can be sanitized easily. You might see where this is going.

Yesterday evening, I came home from best friend's house with a full bottle of wine in my backpack. We and a few other friends had already been sipping on a few beers that afternoon, and I still felt a little buzzed. After my family went to sleep, despite already having a little alcohol in my system, I proceeded to get wasted on this bottle of wine in my room. I don't have the clearest memory of all of this, but at some point, I got hungry and lewd-feeling. Went into the kitchen and, through some kind of thought process I can only imagine now, came back into my room with a cucumber. From the title of the post, you can hazard a guess as to what happened to this cucumber. Once I was done, I drukedly and quickly washed it in the bathroom sink and threw it back into the fridge. I went to sleep.

I started freaking out as soon as I woke up this morning. There were four cucumbers in the fridge, I was pretty positive at least two were going to be used for dinner tonight, and I had no idea which cucumber I did the deed with. To make matters worse, my mom was inviting the pastor of our church and his family over for dinner. I have practically no money currently, no license or vehicle, and no friends with vehicles free to pick up new cucumbers for me (and no reasonable explanation as to why I needed them to spot me for four cucumbers specifically). I also have no believable reason to give for why we shouldn't have cucumbers added in the salad mix. My mom knows I love them, and they haven't gone bad. Can't say I ate them because who the hell eats four raw cucumbers? And she'll interrogate both my brother and I until she gets a satisfying answer if I just throw them out. I didn't know what the hell to do about this and I was close to having a panic attack, so... I took a nap.

Evening came. Guests came over, dinner happened. We had porkchops with macaroni and side salads. Cucumbers were in the salad, and I along with pastor's family and my own, ate it like nothing was wrong. My parents, the pastor and his wife had an engaging conversation about politics, religion, and some mild church gossip after dinner. My little brother continued to read his book, and I had a very awkward and one-sided conversation about Young Sheldon with the pastor's daughter. Then they left. And I went to my room to mentally implode.

To say I'm horrified is a major understatement. I don't think anyone is going to get sick because I scrubbed all of the cucumbers with soap multiple times and cleaned the vegetable drawer with bleach when I woke up this morning. I guess I also don't know that the violated cucumber was one of the ones that was used for dinner tonight, but then it's only a matter of days until we have salad again, or if mom cuts one up for water. I've rattled my brain for any way I could get some new cucumbers without telling anyone the details of the event, but I have nothing. Don't even have the money, anyway. Gave up the last bit of cash I had for the damn wine yesterday, and I have $0.43 in total on my debit card.

Admittedly, there is a very small part of me that doesn't even really care if they have eaten or end up eating the damn thing. I can't stand my family. My parents are invasive, controlling and neurotic, and don't give a shit about how I'm doing in so far as it pertains to god and the church. I'm a little more sympathetic to my brother as he's been stuck in this hell with me, but at 13 he's already begun to regurgitate way more religious dogma than I ever did at his age. And I know for a fact that they would want nothing to do with me if they found out I was gay. They'd probably kick me out on the street and spit on me if I had to guess. But even still, this is only a small part of how I feel. What I did was still so gross, and no amount of animosity I have for them can change how mortifed I am. I do have at least a semblance of a conscience.

So...AITA for all of this? WIBTA if I did nothing about the other two cucumbers? Please help.

[ziggyzolch]

Queen Bee-atch Ⅶ (Regina George x Reader)

Warnings: None, lighthearted chapter tbh

✮✮✮

The sound of a marker cap popping open echoes across the walls of Regina’s room. Squeaking could be heard from the other side of the house with how aggressively she was writing.

She ignores her mothers insistent knocking as she pulls out a pair of scissors and cuts the photo of her and Cady in half. Pulling out a glue stick, Regina aggressively sticks the photo in the middle of the page.

She takes a deep breath, calming herself down and sitting back to admire her work. ’This girl is the nastiest skank bitch I've ever met. Do not trust her. She is a fugly slut!’ Captioned above a picture of her stuck in the burn book.

Those byotches had no idea what was coming. ✮✮✮

This party was worse than anything she could’ve imagined. Someone broke her mothers vase, Gretchen and Karen wouldn’t leave her alone, and, worst of all, she threw up on Aaron!

“Aaron, wait!” Her heels were digging into the backs of her feet as she chased after her longtime crush, wiping the puke off her mouth.

Aaron angled his body towards Cady, walking backwards and pointing his finger at her, “You are a clone of Regina.”

Cady sighed before perking up, “Call me!”

Aaron ignored her, wiping her vomit off his shirt as he disappeared around the corner.

At the sound of a motor, Cady scrunches her eyebrows, turning towards the source of the mechanical whirring. She curses under her breath as she watches you, Damien, and Janis approach on a motor scooter.

“You dirty little liar.” Janis jumps off of the scooter, stomping towards Cady while you and Damien spin around, unable to stop the scooter.

“I’m sorry! I can explain-”

“Explain how you didn’t invite us to your party?”

You pipe up, “Janis, I’m getting dizzy!”

She glares at you as Cady replies, “I had to act like I hated you! You told me to pretend to be plastic.”

“This,” Janis looks Cady up and down, “Is not pretend. You’re plastic. Cold, hard, shiny plastic.”

Damien warns Janis about his curfew before she continues, “Did you have an awesome time? Did you drink awesome shooters and listen to awesome music and just sit around soaking up each others awesomeness?”

Cady’s face contorts in anger, “You made me like this! All because of some bullshit petty 6th grade drama!”

Janis scoffs, raising her arms up in exasperation, “Oh my god! At least me and Regina George know we’re mean. You still try to act all innocent! You got what you wanted. Aaron broke up with Regina, yet you still mess with her. You know why? Because you’re a mean girl! You’re a bitch!” She throws her artwork at Cady, “You can have this, it won a prize.”

Janis gets back onto the moving scooter, almost falling off when you shake the vehicle getting off. Cady’s eyes widen when she sees you rushing towards her, preparing herself for another scolding when you run past her into the house party. Janis and Damien groan, turning back around and spinning.

Cady’s eyes widen when she catches you walking out with two half full bottles of vodka.

“Alright, let’s go.” You jump back onto Damien's lap, adjusting your hold on the two bottles. Cady runs her hands through her hair, letting out a breath. She starts walking back into her house when she hears Damien's voice,

“I want my pink shirt back!”

✮✮✮

“Wanda literally solos all of…” You trail off when a group of girls rush past you gasping at their phones as you walk through the doors. You and Janis turn to each other in confusion before Damien runs up to both of you and drags you further into school. “Check what I sent you!”

Janis pulls out her phone at Damien’s request, her jaw dropping, “No. Fucking. Way.”

She turns her phone towards you. Squinting your eyes at her screen, you read,

“Damien, too gay to…function?! That's only okay when we say it!” You turn away from her phone, pointing and watching the commotion with your friends. Looking around, you ask,

“Have you guys seen Regina?”

Before either could answer, the sound of the fire alarm and sprinklers going off startles everyone.

“All junior girls report to the gymnasium, immediately! Immediately!”

Damien puts on his hood, before walking alongside you and Janis to the gym. Taking your seats on the bleachers at the back, you open your phone to look through the different pages of the burn book.

“Hah! Check this out: ‘Trang Pak is a grotsky little byotch’. It’s like a foreign language.” Janis and Damien giggle as you continue scrolling, ignoring the pang in your heart when you scroll past your own page, and scrunching your eyebrows in confusion at Regina’s. Didn’t she make this? Speaking of...

You stand up, looking around for her, when you catch Cady walking in awkwardly. She makes eye contact with you, offering you a little smile that you return. As shitty as what she did was, it wasn’t entirely on her. Plus she was about to go through way shittier with the way people kept staring at her.

She turns looks next to you, still smiling, when Janis catches her eye and flips her the bird.

The stare off was interrupted by Principal Duvall starting his speech, going on and on about how he oughta cancel our spring fling. You weren’t really paying attention until the end.

“Who has any lady problems they’d like to share?” You snort when you catch Gretchen pushing Karen's hand down.

Another girl you barely recognize raises her hand, “Somebody wrote in that book that I’m lying about being a virgin because I use super jumbo tampons,”

You, Janis and Damien start hitting each other, holding your noses and trying not to laugh when she continues, “I can’t help it if I’ve got a heavy flow and a wide set vagina.”

Your face was turning red, barely holding it together when Damien snorts. You bark out a laugh, slapping your hand over your mouth when everyone turns to look at you.

“Yeah, I can’t do this.” Principal Duvall sighs and urges Ms. Norbury to continue for him.

“Alright, everybody close your eyes,” She pauses, “Raise your hand if you’ve ever had a girl say something mean about you behind your back. Now open your eyes.”

You look around the room, everybody had their hands raised. She continues, “Close your eyes again. Raise your hand if you’ve ever said anything mean about a friend behind their back,”

You peek an eye open, raising your hand when you see everyone else's hands raised. You catch Regina doing the same. There she is. “Now open.”

You, Janis and Damien all collectively gasp when you see each other's hands raised.

“Seems like there’s been a little girl-on-girl crime here, let’s do a couple exercises...” Ms. Norbury had all of you confront your friends on what bothered you.

After a couple of confrontations and arguments, Regina stands up with her arms crossed, “Can I just say that I don’t think we have a clique problem at this school. Some of us don’t need to be here! We’re just victims.”

Ms. Norbury smiles, “That's probably true. How many of you have felt personally victimized by Regina George?” You slide down your chair, groaning in second-hand embarrassment when everybody raises their hands.

Janis rolls her eyes and pulls you back up to sit properly.

“Cady, is there anything you’d like to own up to?” Ms. Norbury calls out.

“No.” Cady replies

“You never made up a rumor about anyone?”

Cady looks around, shuffling in her seat, “No.”

“Nothing you want to apologize for?”

“...No.”

Ms. Norbury says something to Cady that you couldn’t catch before moving on. “Alright. Everybody up.”

She made us gather around a little platform, letting whoever wanted to go up and apologize for whoever they’ve hurt. It was absolutely horrible trying to hold in your laugh as the apologies began, especially when Karen fell forward into the trust fall instead of backwards. Someone you don’t recognize goes up, crying and apologizing.

“She doesn’t even go here!” Damien shouts before pushing you in front of him and pulling the strings of his hoodie. You stand on your tiptoes, attempting to conceal him as Janis moves closer to you. "I can't see shit from here," You mumble, trying to look between the girls stood in front of you.

Wanting to get a better view, you decide to move towards the front of the crowd. You pushed yourself between the girls, ignoring the curses thrown your way. Karen noticed you walking towards her and Gretchen and moved to the side as Gretchen went up, making space for you. Your smile dropped as Gretchen began her speech.

Oh wow. Gretchen was horrible at apologies.

Gretchen turns and falls backwards. Entranced by the train wreck that was Gretchen's half-assed apology, you hadn’t noticed people scattering away from you and Karen. Ms. Norbury gasps.

You all fall to the ground, Gretchen and Karen landing on top of you. Karen gets up after Gretchen, helping you up after her and adjusting your disheveled hair. You raise your eyebrows as she begins squeezing your cheeks with a far away look in her eyes before Gretchen starts pulling her arm. Snapping out of whatever trance she was in, she lets Gretchen drag her away, offering you a smile and a wave goodbye,

They could never make you hate her.

Janis pats your shoulder as she walks past you and up onto the platform, beginning her speech. Your eyes widen as she begins to list everything she’d done to sabotage Regina.

“Ay ay ay ay ay!” She ends her speech and jumps into the crowd as they all cheered her on. You were about to join when a teary eyed Regina pushed past you.

"Regina!" You and Cady called at the same time. You looked at each other for a moment before running towards Regina.

Cady keeps walking as you stop at the edge of the street, leaving them to hash it out when you feel a hand on your shoulder. A breathless Janis was standing next to you. You pat her back, “Nice speech, you should join Model UN.” Janis shakes her head in disgust, making you laugh until you notice a school bus speeding towards Regina.

"No!" Janis attempts to pull you back as you rush forward, jumping towards Regina and pushing her out of the way.

You both land on the harsh asphalt, groaning.

“God! Who drives that fucking fast in a school zone?!” You had your hand on your chest, trying to come down from the rush of adrenaline. “At least no one got hurt,”

Sitting up and looking around, you notice everyone’s eyes on you, “What? Why is everyone looking at me?”

Regina’s scream startles you. “Oh my God!” She says while standing up and pointing at your leg. You raise an eyebrow, turning to where she was pointing.

Oh god.

“Is the bone supposed to stick out like that?” You attempt to joke, before promptly blacking out. The last thing you see being Cady, Regina, and Janis all running towards you.

✮✮✮

Long-ish A/N: I used the gymnasium scene from the original mean girls, its lowkey funnier. I know this chapter has a criminal lack of Regina, but I promise I'll make up for it next chapter. I just needed to move the story along.

I made a little sketch of how I imagine R, but I made her vague in the fic on purpose! You get to imagine her however you want. This is just how I imagine her.

Will I acknowledge the fact that she looks like me? nope. Will I acknowledge the fact that I left out an eye? yolo.

Anyways, thank you for reading!

Tag list: @itzyyyyyydaaaaaa (if u wanna get tagged in the next chapter reply under this post!)

[absolutebl]

These Weeks in BL - This Is Very Late, Or Right on Time depending on where you sit on the temporal debate team

Sorry I got distracted by work. In my defense: I was paid.

Organized, in each category, with ones I'm enjoying most at the top.

March 2024 Wk 1 & 2

Ongoing Series - Thai

Cherry Magic (Sat YouTube grey) ep 12 fin - Unfortunately, there was singing. But what can we do?

A soft charming warm hug of a show about crushes and mind reading and self worth, with no-fuss execution from a consummate team and an OG lead pair proving why they remain eternal and deserve to grow up. Look, here’s the thing, Cherry Magic is a great Thai BL in its own right not comparing it to any other iteration. But even when I do compare (and I've seen all the Cherries and read the manga) it still stands. This is a great show, a solid adaptation, and a pleasing take on the original yaoi. I personally like it better than the Japanese live action, but I think that’s because I just really like Thai BL and I LOVE TayNew. I doubted them for this and I shouldn’t have. They did a great job, as did the sides. I will say all the kissing was both present and better than any other iteration. As it should be. Definitely one for the rewatch rotation. 9/10 

Deep Night (Thurs iQiyi) ep 1 of 8 (10?) - Damn it, I love it. And I don't want to. It’s more classic BL than I thought it would be, and far less Only Friends or Playboyy. (Thank fuck.) We got a big cast and a lot of tropes going down out the gate, including SMITTEN popular hot guy versus nerd with secret identity. (Incidentally, Khem did drop into rude / informal when arguing with his Aunt and defending his ma. Bratty boy.) The leads have good chemistry (First always does), and everyone is very pretty. The main boy reminds me of J-Min's role (and look) in Love Class 2. I am entertained. (And faintly wonder why this isn't a MosBank vehicle.)

To Be Continued (Thai C3 Thailand grey) eps 1-3 of 8- High school sweethearts who had a bad break up reunite a decade later when both of them have full time jobs (celebrity & doctor). Dr Ji is a familiar face (hi Dream it's been a LONG time) and everyone is way too old for high school, but I guess I prefer this to child actors?

I'm enjoying it, actually, the cast may be older but they're solid as a result and the chemistry is on point for a pulp. Whether our celebrity is on the DL or cheating or something else remains to be seen but he sure is smitten. The way he LOOKS at Ji = hawt.

Frankly? Celebrity/doctor is a good pairing and this is a solid Thai BL. I hope we have a nice angsty reason for the break-up and we're not in another Promise situation. I like the sides too. Carry on, little show, I'm disposed to be pleased with you.

City of Stars (Fri iQIYI) eps 5-6 of 12 - I am enjoying it, actually. It’s incredibly silly. But I don’t really mind. STOP SINGING. 

1000 Years Old eps 3-4 of 12 - I love that these kids basically adopted a vampire pet. And one of them accidentally got a vampire boyfriend. This suddenly turned from a PNR into a family drama about domestic gays opening a food stall and I'm not mad about it. Nothing makes sense and I don't care because... rainbow umbrella!

A Secretly Love (Thai WeTV grey) eps 1 of 10 - I don’t love it. I make no bones about the fact that a pining uke rarely works for me, especially if he’s younger (cute supportive besties not withstanding), the power dynamic isn’t good. I always like Kimmon, he’s a stiff actor but v pretty. (I shallow af.) Still it’s time he started acting his age… literally. Having to watch ads again as well… for this? Ooof. I'm not sure I'm strong enough.

Ongoing Series - Not Thai

Perfect Propose (Japan Fri Gaga) ep 6 fin - It was very cute. I liked that there was uke instigated kisses. However I have some reservations on this one, much as I enjoyed it.

Adapted from Mayo Tsurakame’s manga, production team included Tadaaki Horai (My Love Mix-Up!) and Takeshi Miyamoto (Old Fashion Cupcake). Essentially Perfect Propose was about finding hope in a person when all other hope is gone. This show focuses on apathy, and perforce is somewhat apathetic and un-engaging especially as the pacing was off (and with only 6 episodes? now) However, this is countered by great visuals, good archetypes, and a clean story of childhood sweethearts reuniting after loosing their way in life. I landed on 8/10 mostly for a demanding younger seme and some great kisses. 

Unknown (Taiwan Tues Youku YouTube) eps 2-3 of 11 - Oh it’s great. I love it. I’m still worried by how gritty and "Taiwanese short-esk" it feels, but wow does this hit all my favorite taboo tropes and buttons. I also adore the little found fam, they the cutest gay older bros ever. The younger one who wants so bad to grow up and take care of the older one and pushes himself because into self sacrifice that’s the only model of love he has. ARGH. BOYS. Why so much pain, just smooch already! Sheesh. It's on YouTube for some of us, here's the schedule.

AntiReset (Taiwan Fri Viki/Gaga) eps 6-7 of 10 - They remain questionably cute, and that is probably going to be my ultimate review of this show. Awe cameo! (Hi babies, hope the ghosts are leaving you alone.) The irony does not escape me that the person in the relationship with the most emotional acumen is, in fact, the robot and not the human. I'm sure that's meant to be deep.

Love is Better the Second Time Around AKA Koi wo Suru nara Nidome ga Joto (Japan Gaga) ep 1 of 6 - A tortured second chance romance featuring a reported and a successful celebrity(?) academic. The kid actors look nothing like their adult counterparts, but they do look much younger. So, okay. Ah the utter embarrassment of first love. Oh I like it a lot, so very messy Japanese emo. Sigh. Here we go again.

Although I Love You and You AKA Sukiyanen Kedo Do Yaro ka (Japan Thurs Gaga) eps 8-9 of 10 - They are a cute couple. They both trying so hard and so confused and awkward and polite in trying to understand each other but TERRIBLE at communication. 

My Strawberry Film (Japan Thurs Gaga) eps 3-4 of 8 - I don’t know how I feel about this. But I do know it’s not my thing because it’s not BL. I’ll finish it because it’s short but… meh. 

It's done, ready to binge, but I have no time

What Did You Eat Yesterday Season 2 AKA Kinou Nani Tabeta? Season 2 (Japan Gaga) 10 eps - will binge when I have any spare time. 2024 is crazy busy for me so far.

The Servant and the Young Master (Vietnam YouTube) - I will try when I have a window of time.

Began Beginning (Myanmar YouTube) - A Burmese BL? @heretherebedork vouched for it, so I will watch eventually.

It's airing but...

Dead Friend Forever (Thai iQIYI) - finished it's run and I won't be watching it. It's horror with BL elements and the ending, well, let's just say that's a "no thank you" from me.

Ossans Love Season 2 (Japan Gaga) - 5 years later, will anything have changed? This is Japan so… no. I'm not watching this. I dislike this franchise.

Time the series (Tue Gaga/YT) 10 eps - dropped it at ep 4.

Takumi-kun (2023) movie version AKA Takumi-kun Series 6: Nagai Nagai Monogatari no Hajimari no Asa released on FOD 3/5/2024. The original project was a 6 ep series. Having seen all the previous iterations and read the (terrible) yaoi I admit to being intrigued. If anyone finds eng subbed please let me know with a link in comments or in a DM? For those intersted in this show, probably the world's first true BL franchise I chat all about it here.

Gossip

James Supamongkon has withdrawn from the series Love Upon A Time and the NetJames pair is no more. Net Siraphop will continue with the historical BL project alongside a new partner. Can I interest you in Tod Techit... almost as pretty, legs for days...

The Complete Chronology of the Assault Case Against GMMTV Actor Win Pawin

I'm merely directing your attention to these articles, I do not wish for discussion of this content on this blog. Please don't ask for further info, I don't know the answer, follow the link that's why it's there.

Next Week Looks Like This:

Still Coming

3/21 Two Worlds (Thai IQIYI) 10 eps - announced here. One of those "he's dead Jim so time travel" thingames staring MaxNat. I'm over them but Asia flipping loves this trope and I do adore MaxNat. Phupha (Gun) and Khram (Nat) love each other but Phupha is murdered. Then Khram is pulled to a parallel world where, 12 years ago, Khram and Tai (Max) were in love. However, Khram was killed by Thai’s dad. Now Tai finds alter-Khram apparently alive. But then there is ALSO an alter-Phupha (played by Gun Thanawat who is Khom the repressed butler bodyguard from Unforgotten Night).

Upcoming BLs for 2024 are listed here. This list is not kept updated, so please leave a comment if you know something new or RP with additions.

THIS WEEK’S BEST MOMENTS

How flipping adorable is this vampire with his big gay umbrella? SUCH A DORK and we got more vampire dorks coming.

Thailand has found its vampire line and it's awkward and geeky and quite cheerful. 'Bout what we expected, to be fair. It's a good look for them.

And vampires.

In other news...

That's your random moment of thirst, Lim Jimin shirtless AKA my Just B bias (I mean, I could talk about how good his extensions are and how I love a husky voice in Kpop but really, just LOOK at him). I'm very very very shallow, remember? Full vid is here.

Why am I mentioning Lim Jimin (aside from the obvious)? If Just B doesn't break soon, I could some of them transitioning to BL. Jimin in particular would be a win for us, obvs.

Also, can we talk about Bain (my bias wrecker) KILLING it on Build Up? I had no idea he was that good. Anygay, this has been your Kpop end note.

Seriously tho, is ANYONE else watching Build-Up?

(Last week - well, 2 weeks ago)

Streaming services are listed how I'm (usually watching) which is with a USA based IP

The tag bragade: @doorajar

If ya wanna be tagged each week leave a comment and I will. Easy peesy.

[jp-nichts]

U-phoria is my latest project that I've been working on while I wait for Reactors & Romance to come back from the printers.

Steal from the rich and give to the dysphoric in this one-shot heist for CBR+PNK where the Runners engage in a high-speed vehicle heist through the chaotic streets of the Iris neighborhood. Runners need to steal a shipment of designer organs and augmentations before they reach the gated community of Star Valley Heights. The rich might want to flaunt their latest body mods, but the U-phoria Collective needs them to provide free gender affirming care.

This is going to be a submission for the CBR+PNK game jam happening on itch.io HERE. I wanted to make something that was a little more hopeful for the cyberpunk genre, and figured nothing was more punk and based than stealing from the rich to provide free healthcare for trans folks!

The adventure centers around the U-phoria Collective. A small illegal operation operating out of a queer bar called U-phoria. The group helps connect individuals with free gender affirming care. Unfortunately, providing such services are not  cheap and the members resort of black market and illegal dealings to fund their operation. (my original working title for this was "Be Gay do Crimes" but once I had the idea to replace the "eu" in euphoric with a U-Turn sign, I changed it)

[iblameashley]

Ghost Falls Silent, Simon Stands

Civilian | Male | Gay

3,800~ words

Content: Hospitalization, recovery, cohabitation, use of 'lad' (gendered language?), nightmares, gay stuff, fluff, happy ending.

Follow up to Something to look forward to

Simon ‘Ghost’ Riley | Male

!!!SFW!!!

When Simon "Ghost" Riley is injured protecting you, his recovery means a month confined to home - that is, after two weeks of sedation in the base medical wing. Captain Price requests you stay and assist. Through highs and lows, you stand steadfast by Ghost's side. As feelings begin to emerge, Ghost must confront what it means to open his heart some more and whether a future beyond warfare could truly be possible or if he'll continue fighting alone.

Tag List: @a-sleepy-dissapointment

(Thanks to @loneghostwolf for permission to use this image)

You had been sitting outside of Simon's room in the medical wing as Price came along to have a 'talk' with him. You weren't too far from the door, but were close enough to hear Price's deep, commanding voice as he scolded Simon like a father would to a child.

Simon had been protesting his medical leave recommended by the staff. There was rarely an opportunity for them to get the Ghost in for any type of examination, and now that he had been there for a little over two weeks, they were recommending a month of medical leave, and this did not go over well with Simon.

So Price had made a request of you first, asking if you'd be willing to continue to watch over Simon when Price sent him home for recovery. You of course agreed, you'd become rather fond of that lumbering, stoic idiot.

And now here you were, unintentionally eavesdropping on Price and Simon.

“Simon Riley, I swear to God if you fuck this friendship up, I will put a bullet in you myself, you damn muppet!” Price fired back.

“I'm good to go, Price. The wound is healed, I just need a little training to get back into proper form... it shouldn't take more than a couple days at most, sir.” Simon replied, clearly trying to charm his way back into work with his confident tone.

Price was having none of it.

“Absolutely not.” Price shot him down without question. “I can't spare this room much longer, I can't spare Soap or Gaz to watch over your ass for a whole month, and I can't trust you to sit down and relax on base for the next month.” He grumbled with annoyance. “My best option is that wonderful lad out there who, for some reason, has been here for you since you were brought in. No complaints and no problems. He wants to be here, he wants to be your friend, and he wants to watch over you for the next month!”

Price stopped his tongue-lashing long enough to catch his breath, and Simon sat silently for a moment as his brain processed everything.

You of course were sitting in the corridor with a shit-eating grin on your face. Price was likely the only person on Earth who could talk to Simon this way and live, and it tickled you to know that Simon would bend to Price's will if enough pressure was applied.

“Fine.” Simon finally huffed. He surrendered to Price's demand. “But...”

“No 'buts', Simon. He will be accompanying you back to your flat and staying with you for the next month.”

You didn't need to be in the room to know the look Simon had on his face.

“Fine.” He said again in a tempestuous tone.

An image of Simon sitting in the bed with his arms crossed came to mind and you let out a breathy chuckle.

“When will I be discharged into his care?” Simon asked, pulling you from you daydream.

“Seventeen hundred hours, when he's technically finished his work for the day. You'll be loaded into a vehicle together and driven home.” Price explained. “I've already gone ahead and had Soap and Gaz prepare your flat for the two of you, since they had a few hours to spare today. You'll have groceries stocked and beds turned down. Soap may have ate the chocolates meant for the pillows, though.” Price joked.

With nothing more to say, Simon was resigned to his fate.

“Good lad.” Price said before leaving Simon's room. He flashed you a look and smile, “He'll be your problem in a few hours.”

“He always was.” You joked, giving Price a nod as he continued on his way down the corridor.

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Day 4

Its been four days. Four.

You woke up to the smell of something burning and a voice cursing form the kitchen in a Manchester accent. Simon. You threw the blankets back and begrudgingly sat up from the small cot Gaz and Soap had placed in the den of Simon's flat for you. It took a moment to gather your thoughts and boot your brain up enough to wander out into the kitchen to see some charcoal – apparently eggs – in the frying pan on the stove. There were some sausages cooking in another pan as well. Simon was limping around the kitchen looking for a solution.

“Little early in the morning to be trying to kill us both, don't ya' think?” You yawn as you walked over to the stove and pulled the pan off, tossing the chunks of eggs into the sink.

“I didn't ask for a babysitter.” Simon grunted. You notice him wince as he reached for something on the top cupboard, and you shake your head.

You drop the burnt pan into the sink and grab a new one, not quite hiding your frustration.

“Then stop acting like a fucking baby.” You shot back with a bit more vitriol than intended. “Think you can manage a cup of coffee for me and some tea for yourself?” You shot a second time, flashing him a tired and irritable look.

“Think so.” He grunted before moving to grab a couple of mugs.

You grabbed a fresh pan and placed it on the burner, turning the heat down and waiting a few minutes before cracking some fresh eggs. This man could dismantle bombs and take on multiple men in hand-to-hand, but was seemingly lost in his own kitchen.

“How do you like your eggs?” You asked, already cooking some sunny-side up eggs for yourself.

“D'innit matter.” Simon said as he worked away to prepare some drinks.

You shrugged and cracked some more eggs into the pan. Sunny-side up all around.

“Why are you so damn stubborn, Si?” You asked, tying to mask the sadness in your voice. You knew why, it was easy to figure out with a man like Simon Riley, but a part of you wanted to hear it from him.

“Don't need anyone to take care of me. Been takin' care of myself long enough.” His voice betrayed his words and you were, of course, unconvinced of his statement.

“Well... I'm here to help while you recover. I already agreed to do the cooking and cleaning while you caught up on paperwork – which was generous of Price to allow – and getting yourself back in shape for deployment.” You remind him, aiming the spatula at him.

Simon took a seat at the kitchen table as the water boiled in the kettle and simply stared at you. You were right, but it would be a cold day in hell before he said it out loud.

By the time the food was ready, Simon had a steaming mug of coffee for you and a tea for himself. You plated the eggs and sausages, as well as some toast you had made.

“Eggs... without a kitchen fire or the fire department. Enjoy.” You winked at him while buttering some toast.

“Thanks.” He mumbled into his tea.

Despite the attitude Simon had been giving you, you knew his gratitude ran deeper than he let on. He did eventually give you a small smile while he ate, which helped lighten your own mood, though you still had twenty-six days to go.

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Day 10

You were sitting in the living room with Simon, tapping away at your laptop as you worked well into the evening. You'd fallen behind in your work and decided to spend some time today catching up – and you were almost done as the storm outside really began to rage.

There was a crash of thunder that startled you; Simon looked over and his chest heaved as he silently laughed at you.

“Control... S” You murmured to yourself as you saved your work. Lessons had been learned years ago about this very situation.

“Power's bound to go out soon.” Simon sighed as he closed his book – one you had bought him at the market.

No sooner had those words escaped his lips than the lights flickered.

Then again.

And then died, plunging you both into almost complete darkness, your face illuminated by the dimmed screen of your laptop. Without the sounds of appliances or the TV, you could hear the roar of wind and pattering of the rain on the windows.

“I'll get the candles.” Simon advised as he got up off the couch.

You closed the lid of your laptop and got out your phone, turning on the flashlight and following close behind him. “I'll help.” You volunteered, tossing your laptop aside and jumping from the chair.

Soon his living room was flickering with the warm light from the candles. You sat on the couch next to him silently as the storm continued outside; you'd kill for wi-fi right now.

You pulled the skull throw you had gifted Simon from the back of the couch and wrapped it around you. It wasn't particularly cold, but it was comforting. You didn't have the courage to tell Simon you had a minor, teeny fear of the dark.

“Y'know... this storm reminds me of a camping trip I took when I was a bit younger.” You said, breaking the silence.

Simon simply stared at you, waiting for you to continue.

“Well, I stupidly dropped my compass and broke it... that should have been the first sign of things to come.” You chuckled as you recalled the memory. “Then of course the storm moved in and drenched me. I ran to cover, totally forgetting that you aren't supposed to take shelter under trees. A bolt of lightening reminded me as it struck several trees nearby.” You exhaled loudly, a smile playing on your face as you remembered just how close a call that experience was. “But because I also happen to have an overactive imagination, and was full of adrenaline and fear already, I could have sworn I saw a pale figure staring at me from the trees. It shrieked like a banshee and I damn near pissed myself. I was a Goddamn mess when I finally made my way back to my friends.” You let out an awkward laugh and looked over to Simon.

“Sounds terrifying.” Simon replied in his usual flat tone, though his eyes did dance with interest as he stared you down. “You're a brave lad to have emerged from that and carried on.”

There was no undertone of sarcasm of teasing in his tone, catching you off guard.

“You have any 'scary' stories?” You asked him, making yourself more comfortable under the throw.

“Aye..." MacTavish's influence seeped through. "...got a real spine tingling one for ya.” Simon nodded.

He leaned in close and lowered his voice. His eyes narrowed and he stared intently at you. “I was once a child.” He deadpanned.

You desperately wanted to keep your composure, but you felt the twitching of your lips as you started to crack. You let out a shaky chuckle before breaking into a full on laughing.

As you wiped the tears from your eyes, you could see Simon sitting back slightly, a tiny smile tugging at his lips in the dim light of the candlelit room.

“You're such a cunt.” You tittered.

Shifting his tone, Simon cleared his throat. “Thank you.” He rumbled alongside the thunder. “...its not so terrible, having you around.” He confessed.

The earnestness of the words surprised you; an admission you could never have predicted Simon to make.

“...and no one will ever believe you if you tell them I said that.”

There is was. You rolled your eyes.

“You're tolerable.” You shurg.

Simon chuckled, enjoying the playful banter between you two in the darkness of his flat. Even if parts of him were screaming to stop opening up to you.

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Day 21

You woke up groggy and confused as something slammed hard against the floor. It was coming from Simon's room and you moved as quickly as your heavy body would allow to get out of bed.

Walking down the hallway, you could hear the terrified sounds of Simon's distress. Standing at the doorway, you hesitated; your hand hovering over the door knob. Should you really go in? Simon's room was a bit off-limits since you agreed to watch over him. You had wanted to ensure he had one space to himself.

CRASH!

Something else hit the floor. You sigh and grip the door knob, turning it slowly and pushing the door open cautiously.

“Simon?” You murmured through the crack in the door.

You could see Simon thrashing around in the darkness of his room, unable to wake up from the nightmare that was consuming him. He was murmuring someone's name and pleading. Pleading! Simon!

“Fuck it.” You declared, resigning yourself to whatever fate awaited you.

“Simon.” You say, giving him a firm shake. “Simon!” You say louder.

You opened the door a bit further – enough to walk through – and strode over to his bed. You leaned down close to him, and once again hesitated. You looked around to see his lamp and phone on the floor and a spilled glass of water.

Turning your attention back to Simon, you placed a hand over his damp shoulder.

Simon doesn't wake up, stuck in the depths of his terror.

You muster up the courage to do something you never thought you'd do; yell at Simon Riley.

“SIMON, WAKE THE FUCK UP!” You howl at him.

His eyes snap open and he shoots up in bed; his chest heaving and covered in a sheen of sweat, it take him a moment to orient himself.

As his eyes fall on you, and shame creeps into his eyes. You were never supposed to see this. You shouldn't be in here and he shouldn't be this weak in front of you.

You reach out and place your hand on his bicep, giving it a squeeze.

“Are you okay, Simon?” You ask in a soft, concerned voice.

He turns away from you, his chest still heaving but doesn't answer. A bit of ego, but mostly humiliation.

He shrugs your hand off of him and all you do is smile.

“Okay, okay... be that way.” You tease him as you turn to his end table. You pick up the lamp and place it back on the tabletop, then place his phone beside it. “You're safe now.” You speak tenderly to him.

You stand and give him a stare for a moment before leaving his room.

Returning a couple minutes later with a small towel, you kneel down and clean up the spilled water as Simon just sits on his bed.

“You seem calmer now.” You remark as you wad up the towel and toss it to his laundry basket.

“'M fine.” He grumbles.

Liar.

“Alright.” You nod, though he's still not looking at you.

You stand up and sit on his bed, your back to him. You take a deep breath before swivelling yourself around and laying down on the bed beside him.

“...and what are you doing?” Simon rumbles as he feels the weight of your body moving on the mattress.

“What I was asked to do. Take care of you for a month.” You reply bluntly.

You make yourself comfortable beside him, choosing a particularly plump and soft pillow to rest your head on.

“Don't need your help.” Simon protests.

“Sounds like a you problem, Si.” You fire back, pulling your phone from your PJ pocket and unlocking it. “I'm staying, as per Prices request.” You didn't explain that you'd text Price when you left and he'd given you 'orders'.

Simon sits there through seven rounds of solitaire, two crosswords, and a good twenty minutes of scrolling through socials before he finally concedes and lays down beside you. He drapes his arms over his stomach as he stretches out and relaxes; as much as Simon Riley relaxes.

“Don't wanna talk about it.”

You don't look away from your phone.

“Don't have to.” You reply.

“You don't need to know what goes on in my fucked up head because of my fucked up life and job.” He continues.

You like a particularly cute video of a puppy.

“Fair enough. We're all entitled to our secrets.” You nod.

“Did I... say anything?” Simon prods, curious and anxious.

You lower your phone a bit and look over at him. You purse your lips and think about how to respond. So far, you've never lied to Simon, and you don't exactly want to start now.

“Well?” He asks after you hesitate a little too long.

“Yes.” You reply, swallowing the lump in your throat.

“What did I say?” Simon inquires, a bit of horror framing his face.

“I thought you didn't want to talk about it?” The words come out a bit harsher than you intended, and you're already cursing yourself.

“What did I say?” He repeats with annoyance.

You let out a sigh and rest your phone on your chest.

“You were begging.” You reply. You roll your head to the side to look at him. “You were begging for forgiveness and to 'switch places' or something to that extent.” You confess to him, barely managing to choke out the words.

“Fuckin' hell...” Simon grumbles. He stares up at his ceiling. “I....”

“You have terrible taste in people.” He says in an almost teasing tone.

You don't let him finish, “You don't have to say any more, Simon. Not if you don't want to.” You explain. You reach over and tap his abdomen with the back of your hand. “I just want you to know that I don't think any less of you. Never could.”

That elicits a deep laugh from Simon as he shakes his head.

“So I'm told.” You reply, going back to your phone.

“You're really not going to leave, are you?” He asks suddenly.

“What do you mean? Here and now, or before the month is over? Or... ever?” You question him, resting the back of one hand on his body.

“All of the above, 'spose.” He shrugs.

“I'm not leaving. All of the above.” You reply earnestly.

You both fall into a comfortable silence as Simon considers what you've said.

After a half hour or more, Simon hears a thud. Turning to look at you, he notices you've dropped your phone on the floor and are fast asleep on his bed.

You roll over on your side and Simon lets out a low grunt, feigning annoyance – though he's not sure why – before he sighs and grabs the blanket and pulls it over you.

He rolls over so his back is to you and closes his eyes. Somehow your presence here relaxes him enough to let him get a couple hours of sleep.

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Day 30

Maybe domestic life was for you after all. It had been a full month since Price had made his request and here you were; In Simon's kitchen and cooking him one last breakfast before you packed up and returned to your own flat.

Simon had spent most of the early morning in his room just laying on his bed before eventually rolling out and jumping in the shower.

As you finished preparing the large, artery-clogging breakfast of sausages, eggs, hash browns, pancakes and bacon, Simon finally emerged in gym shorts and a tank top.

“Ready to kick my arse out?” You asked, suppressing the tinge of sadness that welled inside you. You really did like being here this last month, though it was difficult to tell if he felt the same way.

Simon huffed and made his way to the table where a tea – just the way he likes it – and took a seat, staring at the back of your head.

He took a sip and thought it over for a moment. “Y've been a goddamn nag.” He finally said, a smile on his face.

“All a part of the job!” You fired back, turning to give him a wide grin.

“Still no idea how Price talked you into it.” Simon mused, looking away.

You pate the mountain of food for the both of you and join Simon at the table. You lean back in your chair and pick up a piece of bacon, eyeing it before taking a bite.

“Didn't take much, to be honest.” You shrug.

Simon defaulted to his usual gruff grunt, “Guess if hasn't been entirely unpleasant to have you around.” He confessed. He couldn't help but fight his own happiness.

“Someone had to make sure you didn't burn the place down.” You tease. "And we nipped that in the bud on day four."

Simon digs into the breakfast you've made for him, silently chewing away and ignoring your joke.

You sipped at your coffee and ate your breakfast as well.

This was a moment that seemed to stretch on for a while, neither of you wanting to admit how the last month truly affected you.

“Y'know...” You say, breaking the silence. “We never did see that movie.” You remind him. Through everything that's happened since Simon was injured, neither of you actually ended up dragging the other to that stupid movie.

You give a shrug. There will be plenty of time for movies.

Simon simply looked up at you and continued to eat.

“It's good.” He said, holding up a forkful of food.

You could tell he was uncomfortable, but you couldn't figure out why. It couldn't have been about the movie.

Maybe it reminded him of being stabbed? Unlikely.

Or maybe he felt... disappointed? Like he let you down?

You could just ask, but that was too easy, and you were both too stubborn to talk about it outright.

“I'll be heading out just after noon, if that's fine with you? I just need to do some work before I leave.” You practically murmur.

“'S fine.” Simon nodded.

As you finished your breakfast and placed your plate in the sink, Simon surprised you with what he said.

“How about tonight?” He asked.

You turned to look at him with a confused look on your face.

He was still sitting at the table with his phone in hand.

“The movie. Its still playing... how about tonight?” He asked again.

You nodded. “Y-yeah. Tonight works for me. What time?”

“Eleven-hundred hours. You... can stay the night again. My flat is closer to the theatre than yours.”

You were too shocked to say anything, so you just nodded again.

Staying another night.

With Simon.

You were brimming with stupid amounts of joy.