#gets my ass back on etsy........

[socialbunny]

recreations of two rare merch (bumper) stickers that i made awhile back just for fun :3

[pup-pee]

he is the dirt under my fingernails

[wabblebees]

its hitting real "i want a damn suit" and "i want a damn corset" hours around here folks

[neverendingford]

.

[neganium]

The crushing dilemma of needing to do one thing, but also really really wanting to do another, bc it might be advantageous to me; but also not really having the time to do either of these things bc I'm dallying on which one I should prioritize. hh.

[whimsyprinx]

gonna use some of my tax money this year to finally send out some of the gifts I’d been collecting for people

[aestheticaltcow]

Six Months

An attempt at some parenthood angst?

Similarly to the title, this fic has been in my WIP folder for a minute; it went through a handful of edits. I'd like to think this is good enough for y'all.

The Bear Masterlist

Next part

 

Carmy sat in the office staring at the paperwork Sugar needed his signature on; when he saw the date on his phone, it hit him—today marked six months. Six months of parenthood and six months of celibacy, to say Carmy was sexually frustrated, was an understatement. “Hey Carm, did you- are you okay?” Sugar asked when she caught him staring blankly at his phone. He didn’t respond until she put her hand on his shoulder. Her touch snapped him out of his trance. He looked at her before quickly apologizing, “Sorry, what were you sayin'?” Sugar grinned as she patted his shoulder, “You okay, Bear?”

Carmy nodded and straightened up in his desk chair, “Yea- just thinkin’ bout the baby.”

Carmy got home from work late. He quietly slipped his jacket off, and hung it on the coat rack before removing his shoes. Walking down the hallway, he slipped into the nursery, knowing the baby would be asleep. He found it impossible not to be happy in her room. The walls were decorated with vintage floral wallpaper you’d bought off Etsy, it may have been a pain in the ass to put up, but Carmy happily obliged when he saw how happy it had made you. He crept to his baby girl’s crib and felt the day's stress disappear. She was peacefully sleeping in a light pink sleep sack, furiously sucking away on her pacifier. “Sweet dreams, princess,” he whispered. “I love you.” 

The joy of watching his daughter sleep faded away as he approached the askew door to the master bedroom the two of you shared. “I’m home, baby.” Carmy grinned as he walked toward the open closet door, “Hi, Carm.” you called from the bathroom. When he entered the bathroom, you were brushing your teeth. As the mix of salvia and toothpaste residue dripped from your mouth Carmy’s breath hitched- was this enough to get him goin’? He shook his head as he pulled his shirt off and threw it in the laundry hamper before turning on the shower.

“How was work, babe?” you asked before bringing a small cup of mouthwash to your lips. Carmy watched as you swished it around your mouth and spit it into the sink. “Carmy?” you asked again; he swallowed. “Yeah, uh, it was good. Busy,” he answered as you hopped up on the counter. You were desperate for adult interaction after being home with the baby all day. 

“Mia, have a good day?” Carmy questioned. You nodded, “We did some laundry, then had mashed pears for lunch- she did. I had that leftover pasta sauce you made... Read a couple books and went on a walk... Then did her bedtime routine, and I worked on that stupid documentary I was telling you about.” 

As you recounted your day, Carmy nodded, but he was staring at your chest, barely hearing what you said. You’d been wearing one of his old T-shirts. He noticed how prominent your nipples were under the soft, worn-in material. He was captivated by the fullness of your breasts, and he’d do just about anything to touch them again. “Carm, you okay?” you asked, hopping down from the counter; he nodded. “Wanna get in with me?” he asked cocking his head in the direction of the running shower. You giggled, “Maybe next time, bear.”

“Oh fuck-” Carmy grunted as he worked his hand up and down his length. He felt like a teenager again, masturbating in the shower before going to school. However, now, instead of imagining the unrealistic scenarios he’d see in pornos, he had memories of you. Carmy thought back to the last time you’d really touched him. Heavily pregnant, hormonal, begging for his tongue and his cock… he’d expected a shift in your sex life as the two of you adjusted to parenthood, but this long of a dry spell was the last thing he’d expected. Carmy squeezed his eyes closed as he came down the drain.

~

“Good morning, princess.” Carmy cooed as Mia squirmed in her crib, trying to get out of her sleep sack. She spat her pacifier out and let out a gruggle. “So it’s one of those mornings?” he chuckled as he unzipped her. He watched her stretch before carefully picking her up, “See, you’re okay.” he rocked her gently before exiting the nursery and heading downstairs. 

You were making coffee and prepping a bottle for Mia as he entered the kitchen. “You’re off today, right?” Carmy nodded in response before handing you Mia. “You goin’ to work?” he questioned, as he got two mugs from the cabinet. You groaned in response, “Jenny called off, so I have to go in. I’ll be back before bedtime.”

“Well, looks like Mia and I are havin' some Daddy-Daughter time,” you smiled as Carmy gently kissed her head before going to get the milk from the fridge. When you’d met Carmy all those years ago at some trendy Chicago bar, you found him incredibly alluring. His disheveled curls, the mix of some musky cologne and cigarette smoke, the way his T-shirt wrapped around his muscular arms… he’d always been… sexy. But watching him interact with Mia was a different kind of attractive.

Carmy drummed his thumbs on the handlebar of the grocery cart. He scanned the shelf before him as Mia happily made her baby noises as she looked around the aisle. “Okay, princess… they don’t have almond extract. What kind of grocery store doesn’t have fuckin’ almond extract.” Mia put her hands out to Carmy, grabbing at the air. Carmy chuckled and ducked to kiss her cheek.

“Oh my gosh, she’s too precious.” a sickly, sweet feminine voice cooed from behind Carmy. He grinned when he turned his attention to her, “How old is she?” she asked. Carmy got a good look at the woman; she was pretty, but she wasn’t you. “Oh, uh, she’s six months,” he answered as the woman stepped closer. She smelled like cheap vanilla and a mix of flowery scents Carmy couldn’t place. Mia glared at the woman, and Carmy scratched the back of his neck awkwardly. “I’m Selena. I’m in this parenting group. You should stop by.” she smiled as she looked him up and down. The attention made Carmy regret not regularly wearing his wedding ring. “I’m not really the par-” Carmy started to say before Selena cut him off. “I’m not takin’ no as an answer. What’s your number?” she handed him her phone. 

Carmy didn’t know why he gave her his number- could he blame it on feeling uncomfortable? Was that even the right thing to do? It’s not like he’d ever do anything with this woman. He’d never throw away his marriage to you by hooking up with some woman he met at the grocery store. The reality of Carmy's actions didn’t hit him until he was in the checkout line. He gave his phone number to another woman- was that cheating on you? Did doing that in front of his daughter make him a bad father? “Okay, your total is $63.82.” the cashier smiled. Carmy nodded and swiped his card. He needed to get out of there as quickly as possible so he wouldn’t run into Selena again.

~

It had been a couple of weeks since Carmy’s interaction at the grocery store. He’d noticed Selena’s text messages here and there. They seemed innocent until one Friday night, he was working late, you were home with the baby, and Selena had sent Carmy an explicit picture, hoping it would get his attention.

We’re both parents. 

I’m not looking for anything serious, Carmy…

My son is at his Dad’s place

Come over <3

Carmy stared at the messages before his eyes went up to the attached photo. Selena had the hem of her T-shirt between her teeth, showing off her toned stomach. He swallowed as he admired the contrast between her skin and the brightly colored fabric of her lacy underwear. He should block her. He should just delete the messages and block her number. He had a wife and baby at home—he couldn’t make this kind of mistake. He locked his phone and shoved it in his pocket before returning to the kitchen cleanup, “Hey Carm, I can finish this up. Go home.” Sweeps grinned as he attempted to connect his phone to the Bluetooth speaker on the counter. Carmy grinned, “You sure, man?” Sweeps nodded assuringly. “I think I can handle this boss man.” 

You heard Carmy walk into the bedroom that night, “Hey babe!” you called as you put your blowdryer in its designated spot by the sink. As the bathroom door swung open, Carmy’s lips were on yours. The initial shock wore off as Carmy’s tongue invaded your mouth, and his hands pushed under the hem of your sleep shorts to grasp at your ass cheeks. Carmy pulled you closer to him, forcing you onto your tip toes. You wrapped your arms around his neck, fingers delicately tangling in the roots of his hair. The passionate kiss ended when Carmy started to kiss down your jaw. A giggle escaped your mouth as his lips brushed against your earlobe before he nipped at your neck. “Carm-m what got into you?” you croaked as you adjusted your hips against his.

 “I need you, baby,” he muttered, lifting you off the floor. You squealed as he crashed down onto your mattress. He hovered above your body, staring into your eyes. “I need to be inside you, baby.” he swallowed hard as you bit your lip. “Carmyyy,” you giggled as you watched him pull his t-shirt off. You ran a finger down his chest, making him moan softly.

 “Let me make you feel good, baby…” Carmy whispered in your ear as one of his hands found its way into your oversized sleep shirt. Your breath hitched when you felt his calloused fingertips graze your ribs. " I-I—" you studdered nervously. “Baby…please.” Carmy quietly asked as his lips brushed against yours. “No.” you whispered as you grabbed his wrist through your shirt, “What?” Carmy questioned as he stood up abruptly, “Did I do something? We haven’t done anything in like six months- clearly I did something wrong. Just tell me so I can fix it!” Carmy raised his voice as his eyebrows knit together in frustration. 

You propped yourself on your elbows and watched as he picked up his shirt from the floor, “Carmen, please don’t yell at me.” you said calmly. You watched as he rolled his eyes and paced before you, “Baby. I want to have sex with you. I need to have sex with you-” Carmy groaned as he pushed his hands over his face into his hair. Your eyes narrowed, “Carmen. I had a baby-”

 “I KNOW! I fucking know! You had my baby, but now you don’t even want to fuckin’ shower with me! I get it- pregnancy was hard, and then giving birth was hard, and now being a mom is hard.” Carmy started staring at the ceiling while he expressed himself. He took a breath and turned to look at you; regret washed over him when he noticed you were on the verge of tears. “Baby, please don’t cry…” he pleaded as he knelt by the bed. He reached for your hand, but you pulled away before he could grab it, “Sorry, I don’t want to fuck you after taking care of your baby all day.” you spat. Carmy closed his eyes and took another breath trying to compose himself before saying something dumb, “How dare I fail to meet my wifely duties.” you angrily laughed as you stood up. 

You crossed your arms over your chest and stared as Carmy got up. “Baby, I didn’t—" you cut Carmy off with a groan. “Shut up, Carmen. You don’t get to speak to me like that.”

Carmy sighed and stepped closer to you, as he reached out for your hips only for you to slap his hands away. “Don’t touch me.” you glared at him, “Fuck this.” Carmy muttered under his breath as he pulled his shirt back on over his head. “What do you mean ‘fuck this’?” you questioned as Carmy exited the bedroom, “I need air.” Carmy called back to you.

You moved to your bedroom window to see Carmy walking toward his car in the driveway. He got in and pulled his phone out of his jacket pocket. 

Send me your address.

[am-i-the-asshole-official]

Aita for not taking down a jokey sign on my bathroom door when my parents came over?

Cw: talk of diarrhea. Not explicitly.

So I (21f)and 2 of my friends (20f,lets call her lilly and 23m, lets call him matt)moved into an apartment about 2 years ago and so far, everything has been good. We've been able to manage our bills, keep a clean home, I couldn't ask for better. We've known each other since middle school, there's ackward moments and small disagreements when Matt brings over his boyfriend (he almost always yells when he speaks and slams doors) but everything is generally all good.

Every apartment shared by more than one gen z is gonna have some quirks and ours is the "code brown" sign. Me and matt have IBS and occasionally have some mild to moderate.... Bowel problems and there's only one bathroom. Usually it's not a problem but there's been a few occasions where someone will be taking awhile scrolling tik Tok or whatever or taking a long shower and me or Matt have an issue.

Originally it was a group chat half joke warning that someone was having a "code brown" and no one could lolly gag in the restroom because one of us might be making trips. It became an inside joke and last year, lilly had a cheap small hanging sign made by some wood burner on Etsy that basically read on one side "All clear, private!" and on the other read "Code brown! Get going or get down!". It was hilarious and we hung it on the bathroom door and now use it unironically. All our friends enjoyed it, Matt's boyfriend loudly so but not so much my parents.

About a week ago, I finally allowed my parents to check out my place. They aren't super Christian like evangelicals but my dad has been going red pilled and more so by the day so I tried to make my apartment look less like it was shared by three liberals and wore something nice and cooked a nice dinner. I paid for lilly and matt to go catch a movie and some Wendy's on me so they'd be out of the house. All was good until my dad went to the bathroom and came back with the damn sign looking like his head was going to explode. He screamed at me that he thought I was an adult, that I was failing at getting my shit together (they don't pay for anything and i live on my own?) and I was a child for hanging up such a clearly inappropriate sign. My mom agreed, though much less Intensely and my dad proceeded to break the sign over his knee and chastise me for a good 20 minutes before grabbing his things, demanding an apology in a few days and leaving with my mom.

Once lilly and matt got home I apologized and offered to buy a new sign. Lilly and Matt were just happy nothing else was broken and I was ok. I did eventually apologize to my dad because I can see where a poop sign might be a little inappropriate for important company but tbh I forgot about it and I was so busy making dinner I didn't realize it was still up or I would of tossed it in my room and moved on. Lilly and Matt just say my dad has a stick up his ass and shouldn't of messed with the sign(it was flipped to the no code brown side so he had to flip it to see it).

Was i the asshole for not taking down a gag sign about poop when my parents came over?

What are these acronyms?

[indifferent-depravity]

Stress Relief

Minors DNI 18+

cw: unnegotiated choking (do your research and talk to your partner first folks!), semi-public sex, angry Carmen

gif made by me

A/N: don't forget requests for everything are open so if you'd like to see anything from me feel free to drop it in my ask box :)

buy me a coffee!

help me escape abuse

my Etsy shop

~~~

“What the fuck is going on?”

Somehow your voice cuts through Carmy’s near-frantic screaming, bringing the whole kitchen to a standstill. Even Carmy shuts up, looking over at you, chest heaving. You cross your arms, glaring at him. “Carmy, office.” You say firmly, voice raising again when he doesn’t move, “Now, Chef!” He unfreezes and stalks towards you, the veins in his neck becoming visible as you gesture towards the office.

You follow him in and slam the door shut, taking a deep breath as you wait for the noises of the kitchen to start back up before you whirl around to glare at him. “What the fuck is your problem, Carm? Do you want them to walk out?” He keeps his eyes trained on the ground, his hands curling and uncurling into fists. You huff and step into his line of sight, bending to force him to look at you, “Answer me, Carmen! Do you want them to wa-“

You’re cut off as he wraps a hand around your throat, backing you up against the desk. Carmen leans his face close to yours, anger contorting his features as his grip tightens around your throat, just enough to make your breaths come out in gasps. “I wouldn’t yell if they weren’t fucking idiots. It’s like they do it on fucking purpose,” he says, a cold, harsh tone lacing his words as he forces your head back.

He bites along your jaw, soothing the sting with his tongue and you whine, your anger melting as your cunt starts to throb. His free hand slides up the inside of your thigh, rubbing you through your pants. “Take these off,” he orders sharply and you bite your lip,  hands falling to the button of your pants, fumbling for a second in the small space between your bodies.

The second your pants fall to the floor, Carmen pushes his hand between your thighs again, groaning as his fingers glide through your wet folds. “Figures. Such a little whore for me, huh? Little pussy getting wet from my hand around your throat.” You moan weakly, eyes rolling back as he sinks his fingers into your core. The stretch sends shocks of pleasure up your spine, a tightness growing in your stomach with each pump of his fingers.

Carmen pushes a third finger inside of you and curls them, a smirk growing on his face as you shudder under him. He grinds his palm against your clit as his fingers speed up, a wet filthy noise filling the small office as he forces you over the edge with another curl of his fingers. Tears burn your eyes and you writhe under him, a fire burning through your veins as he fingers you through your orgasm.

He brings his fingers to his mouth, staring you down as he sucks your wetness off them. He releases your throat long enough to spin you around, pulling your hips back against the hard ridge of his cock. His hand finds your throat again as he frees his cock from its confines, sliding the head through your folds. “Is this what you wanted when you came out and yelled at me, little slut? Needed my cock in you so bad you’d disrupt service for it?”

You whine, shaking your head even as your hips push back against him. Carmen lets out a mocking laugh, teasing your entrance with the tip, “No? Is that why you're pushing your ass out like that? Because you don’t want me to fuck you?” Tears fill your eyes, threatening to spill down your cheeks as he pulls you back against his cock, slowly filling you inch by torturous inch.

His hand tightens around your throat and he sinks his teeth into the place where your neck meets your shoulder, pulling his cock out until only the tip remains before slamming his hips forward, filling you in one smooth thrust. You cry out, hands hitting the wall as he starts up a punishing rhythm, your knees weakening with each glide of his cock.

“Tha-at’s it, sweet girl, y’like that don’t you?” He growls in your ear, running his free hand down your body. You hiccup out a cry, nodding the best you could with his hand around your throat, a fuzzy feeling filling your head as you fly towards another orgasm. You crumple the flyers tacked to the wall as the dam breaks inside of you with a shudder, tears finally falling down your cheeks as your head falls back against his shoulder.

Carmen hums, loosening his grip on your throat as he nips and sucks marks along your jaw and neck. His fingers find your clit, pressing quick, tight circles against it as he fucks into you roughly. Your knees buckle as you’re pushed into a third orgasm before you can recover from your second. He wraps his arm around your waist, easily keeping you upright without stopping his movements.

He moans into your ear, thrusts becoming frantic as he chases his own pleasure. His chest heaves against your back, low moans falling from his lips as he nears his end. He sinks his teeth into your shoulder as he pushes his cock as deep as he can, filling you with his seed with a grunt. Carmen slumps over you, keeping you pinned against him as he catches his breath. Heavy breathing fills the small office, only broken by the clatter of pans coming from the kitchen, bringing you back to the present. He pulls out with a sigh, turning you to press a gentle kiss to your lips. He kneels in front of you, helping you ease your pants up your shaky legs. You clumsily maneuver to the desk chair, gripping Carmen’s hand tightly as your legs threaten to give out.

He tucks himself away and leans down for a quick peck to your lips, “Thanks, baby.” He’s gone before you could answer with the gentle click of the door shutting. You snort, shaking your head at his antics as you hear him back in the kitchen again, calmer than he had been all service.

Once you regain control of your legs again, you go back to the front to help Richie with orders, giving him a smile in greeting. He lets out a low whistle, not caring to hide the way he stared at you. Your eyebrows pinch together in confusion, “Can I… help you?”

He laughs, abandoning the sandwich he was wrapping to poke at one of the marks on your neck, “No, I just figured out why Carmy came out of the office in a better mood, that’s all.” Your hands fly up to your throat, a deep blush staining your face as you hurry to the bathroom. Flicking on the light, you groan at the sight of the dark marks littering your neck, bruises showcasing a set of teeth already setting on your shoulders and neck. The kicker is, and this is what made you yell Carmy’s name, a clear outline of his hand wrapping around your throat.

You duck your head into the kitchen on your way back to the counter, a scowl growing on your face when you spot Carmen innocently working, nothing to show for the way he just fucked the life out of you. “Carmy, I’m going to kill you!” He looks up long enough to give you a cheeky smirk, winking at you before turning to the stove with his back to you.

You’re grumbling as you return to the counter, tugging on your collar as if you would be able to hide the marks with it. Richie sidles up beside you, “So, how long has Carmy been a choker? Because me and Mikey, we figured him as a vanilla type.” You groan, thumping your head against the counter, lifting a hand to flip him off. He laughs and pats you on the back, “Y’know maybe we should make some scarves with our logo so next ti-'' You cut him off by jabbing your elbow towards his stomach and he jumps out of the way with a laugh. “C’mon sweetheart, I’m being helpful!”

You lift your head to level him with a glare and he starts laughing harder, pulling another groan from your lips as you drop your head back down onto the counter, “Shut the fuck up, Richie!”

[hauntedhowlett-writes]

ok but now I need more Joel and reader neighbour domestics??? Like him leaving her a post it note with his internet password and him helping her feed the cats and she helps him with his plants and setting up the damn skeleton and then throwing neighbourhood barbecues together 🥺🥺🥺

okay so i literally couldn't rest until i wrote these up so if my assignments are work are late, i'm blaming you.

title: in a feud with her neighbor - bonus scenes

read the main work here

pairing: pre-outbreak!joel miller x female reader

rating: PG-13 (mild language)

word count: 1084

summary:

Fluffy bonus scenes for "in a feud with her neighbor" as suggested by anon!

Content warnings/tags: not a standalone work, pre-outbreak, no sarah, established relationship, still pretending the 12 ft skeleton existed in 2003, joel gets his butt grabbed by a neighbor. This is pretty much just fluff.

“The internet is out again,” you whine. You’re in your bed with Joel, the man turned on his side facing away from you. He looks over his shoulder, eyes narrowed.

“Good. Go to sleep,” he grumbles before burying his face back into the pillow that is now his pillow. It always smells like ocean salt and eucalyptus, while your own pillow smells like lavender and vanilla.

The sheets, however, are a beautiful combination of both.

You huff but reach over to your nightstand and turn off the lamp. You scooch in closer to him, snuggling up to his back and spooning him. You let his deep breaths lull you to sleep.

The next morning, Joel’s already left for work in the early hours of the morning, a kiss pressed to your sleep warm skin as a goodbye. When you shuffle into the bathroom to get ready, there’s a pink Post-It with familiar messy handwriting stuck to the mirror.

GetYourOwnPassword03

-Joel

________

There��s a package on your porch when you get home from work. You tear into it immediately, pulling out the new planters you bought as a surprise for Joel.

They were an Etsy find, a set of three white planters that say “WHAT THE FUCCULENT”, “LOOKIN’ SHARP”, and “DON’T BE A PRICK” and a bigger planter that reads “PLANT DADDY”. You giggle as you line them up on the counter.

Joel sees them when he comes over that evening, freshly showered and already wearing his pajama pants and your favorite threadbare shirt. He can barely stop laughing long enough to thank you.

“PLANT DADDY” sits in a place of pride by his front door, glued down to the concrete so that the cats can’t knock it over.

________

Joel is a grill master. He will spend a ridiculous amount of time at the deli, scrutinizing every package of beef while you hang onto the cart and wither away like a suffering Victorian woman. 

“Joel, please, I’m begging you,” you say, “just pick the steaks.”

“Hush, sweetheart, I have a process,” he replies, not once looking away from the two packages of New York strip he holds. 

“Just get both!” You beg. “Lots of steak! Great compromise!”

He glares at you. “We have to make a good impression.”

“A good impression on who? They’re our neighbors. They already like us! Half the moms in the neighborhood want to fuck you!”

Joel nearly drops the steaks. “They what?!”

You can’t breathe because you’re laughing so hard at the shocked look on Joel’s face. He sets both packages of steak in the cart before grabbing the handle from you and leaving you in tears in the deli.

Later that night, Joel finds you in the crowd and grabs your arm.

“I think Mrs. Matthews grabbed my ass,” he says. 

You pull him close, slipping a hand into the back pocket of his jeans and giving him a peck on his lips.

“Told ya,” you tease.

________

Joel watches the Home Depot website like a hawk as soon as September hits. His buddy who works at the store said that online orders would open within the first couple of weeks. Finally, the button turns from gray to orange, and he places his order immediately.

When it’s delivered a few weeks later, you’re so excited that you ask Joel to set it up immediately.

“It’s not even October yet, baby. Can you wait another week?” He asks. You pout, but you agree. Only if he’ll set up both skeletons on the first day of October and not wait until the last minute like he did the year before.

Which is how he finds himself teetering on the top rung of his ladder, trying to set the skull on the frame while you watch from the ground. When he finally gets it screwed on, he’s slick with sweat and cursing up a storm.

“How’s that look?” He asks when he gets down from the ladder and stands beside you.

You wrap your arms around his shoulders, tugging him into a kiss. 

“It’s perfect.”

________

Joel walks into your house one day, plastic bags hanging from his arms. The clinking of metal against metal announces his arrival.

“Joel? Whatcha got there?” You ask, drying your hands on the dish towel hanging from the stove, one that says “JUST ROLL WITH IT” with an image of a rolling pin beneath it. 

He sets the bags on the counter. “Cat food.”

You blink at him. “Cat food? You bought cat food?”

“Yeah, you mentioned you were running low. Besides, there’s a new calico out there so you gotta start puttin’ out more. Where’s the bowls?” 

He moves around the kitchen with practiced ease, grabbing a spoon and the set of plastic bowls you reserve for the neighborhood cats. It hits you at that moment.

You love Joel Miller.

Your smile is huge when he turns to look at you and he freezes like a deer caught in the headlights. You close the gap between you, wrapping your arms around his waist and hugging him close.

“I love you,” you murmur into his chest. His arms wrap around your shoulders and you feel the press of his lips to your head.

“I love you, too.”

________

BONUS BETTY CONTENT

Joel wakes early the next morning after his first night with you, your naked body still curled in his. He smiles down at you before gently pulling himself from your grasp, stifling his laugh at how you pout in your sleep before rolling over, snuggling into your pillow. He finds the stack of familiar pink Post-Its on your nightstand, scribbling out a note that he’s gone to pick up breakfast and coffee and would be back soon.

He puts on his now dry swim trunks and leaves the house, shutting the door quietly behind him. The neighborhood is still asleep, the sun barely cresting the horizon as he leaves your porch.

“Leavin’ so soon, Mr. Miller?” Betty’s raspy voice calls. He freezes, feeling like a teen caught sneaking out of his house. 

“Good mornin’, Betty,” he says, turning slowly to face her. She’s got a knowing smirk on her face.

“What was it I said about the two of you hittin’ it off?” She asks, tapping a finger to her lips. Joel can feel his cheeks heat. 

“You were right,” Joel admits. 

“I know, dear. I always am. Now, could you bring me back a doughnut while you’re out? Double chocolate. With sprinkles.”

“Yes, m’am.”

[neylo]

Becoming Marshal of France - Part one: The annoying but necessary shit

@cadmusfly is a bad influence and a terrible temptation. I want you to know that you have succeeded.

Since I was a kid, I loved the feathered hats, the colourful shiny uniforms and the overall vibe of the 18th and the beginning of the 19th century. Apparently, it wasn't a phase.

I am a cosplayer and I love myself a good challenge. And now here it is. I am to make the ultimate entry for the Napoleonic fandom of Tumblr and make my own marshal uniform. I cordially invite you all to join my journey and perhaps, get inspired!

Let's start with the tunic.

Disclaimer: Reenactors, chill, I am not a millionaire - I can't, unfortunately, afford the expensive replicas of the buttons etc. I do not intend to participate in any kind of reenactment activity, and therefore I can't promise 100% historical accuracy. I would love to. But right now I can't.

Note: I use the metric system. It is nice, it is logical, and you should implement that too, Americans!

Before you start:

Step one: find the appropriate fabrics. Are you looking for dark blue? Great start. Now, it's time for some research. Napoleon's Marshals book by Osprey Publishing has done a great job describing the details. You can basically choose your own preferred material: Silk, velvet or linen. Congrats! For a whole-ass marshal tunic, you will need 2-3 metres of fabric depending on your size.

You will also need lining. I recommend linen lining and viscose lining for the sleeves.

Step two: Assess your insanity. There are multiple uniform patterns, each for a different occasion (source):

If you have three years of free time and unlimited supplies of goldwork threads, you can do the grande tenue - the first picture. I would advise you not to. But if you want, there is actually an extant one you can draw your inspiration from. It belonged to Ney. If you are going for this, you will indeed be the bravest of the brave.

Petite tenue is more subtle with less embroidery. Still, difficult as hell.

Tenue de campagne is the one I am going for. I don't like commitments. You will only need to embroider the collar and the cuffs + some stuff on the back. That is doable. That is what I am doing.

Step three: The pattern. The thing is, the patterns of the era were almost the same. I simply butchered my civilian coat pattern and changed it for a single-breasted one with a standing collar. Do you want help? I will share the pattern with you.

This is how my thing looks at the moment.

Step four: Embroidery. What is this shiny thing on the Marshals' uniforms? This is a kind of embroidery called "goldwork" and you need special metallic threads for it. They are not exactly easy to find, but Etsy is your friend. There are multiple US shops, and there is also EmbroideryMaterial shipping worldwide from India. They have a great selection and very agreeable prices.

For the Marshal tunic you shall need two kinds of threads:

The French wire (lol, it is really called like that!)

The Japanese thread (a thread wrapped in a thin gold plate)

You will also need small gold sequins.

I will show you the embroidery progress when my threads arrive. Before that happens, we need to design the embroidery. No worries, someone did it for you. That someone was actually me:

That's it for today.

Stay tuned for more posts.

[lufirel]

This is the third of my centipedes; a Scolopendra paradoxa who I called Mercutio. I love the color scheme of paradoxas and find them to be one of the most stunning of all centipedes, but it presented some challenges in its replication. The main difficulty was getting the banded pattern on the back because, inconveniently, it does not alternate between orange and black segments, but rather each segment is both orange and black. It may seem a small distinction but it meant double the sewing for me!

Beyond that Mercutio was just determined to be a pain in my ass. The threads broke all the time even though it was the same basic sturdy sewing thread I typically use, and when it wasn’t breaking it was getting tangled. Many of his segment had to be redone because they either ended up too small or they refused to lie flat. Also the sheer number of times I managed to stab my finger with the needle while I was working on him was ridiculous. We got there in the end but he fought me every step of the way! He was the complete opposite of Tybalt in that respect.

In the end Mercutio also went off to a new home where he seems to be much loved. I may revisit paradoxas again in the future because as I said they are one of my favorite pedes, but after my experience working with him it can wait.

If you’re interested in owning one of my pedes or any other bizarre arthropods check out my Etsy shop. I also take commissions.

http://www.etsy.com/shop/HuggableMonsters

[kassymalone]

A Little Rant about Fun

Remember fun?

Remember when you could do things just because they were fun?

It keeps coming to mind recently, and it's starting to drive me nuts.

I've always done things with my hands - I used to do art before uni destroyed my love and confidence, I write things, I cross stitch, I make models, and I do these things because I enjoy them. Unfortunately I've come to hate talking to people about my hobbies because the almost always have the same response - 'what do you do with that?'

Do I sell on Etsy? No I fucking don't, this pattern took me 15 hours to finish, do you know how much I would have to charge for it?

Do I do freelance writing? No I fucking don't, why would I want a second soul-crushing job on top of my first soul-crushing job?

Why don't I actually get published instead of wasting my time with fanfiction so I can actually make some money off it? WHY DON'T YOU DO IT IF ITS SO FUCKING EASY

I've been thinking of making a quilt recently, with patches of all my favourite things, but I don't want to talk to anyone about it because I can already hear them asking 'and what are you going to do with it? Is this your practice one before you sell them? No, don't do it that way, that's the wrong way, no-one will like it!'

(Don't get me started on the 'you're doing it wrong' crowd, gatekeepers are a different rant.)

JUST LET ME DO THINGS. NOT EVERYTHING NEEDS TO MAKE MONEY. I know we're in a cost of living crisis right now, but I've been hearing this shit since I was a teenager, twenty fucking years ago! I still remember being talked out of singing lessons when I had a little extra money because 'what would I do with it?' Well fuck, my fat ass was never going to be the next Adele, but maybe I could have just had fun doing something I enjoy, but better?!

ON A RELATED NOTE!

You know what disproportionately annoys me? When people call the Nintendo Switch a 'toy' as if it's a bad thing. Like... yes? It's a toy? I play games on it?

'But the frame rate!', 'But the graphics!', 'But it can't run XX game!' WHO FUCKING CARES.

Yes, the xbox and playstation can connect to netflix and play blue rays and cook you dinner and raise your children, but they also cost a months rent and have all these bells and whistles to distract you from the fact that they JUST FUCKING TOYS. There's nothing either of them can do that I can't do on my PC, better and cheaper, and not have to turn on five different peripherals to make it work.

'But 4K!', 'But you can see the character follicles in this new game!', 'But the horses testicles react to the weather!'

Are you not having fun? Are you not enjoying playing your game? Never once have I been in the middle of a game and thought 'I'd be enjoying this more if it had more pixels.' I'm not even against other consoles, use whatever you prefer - if you like modern real-to life graphics then more power to you, but the amount of people who act like it actually matters somehow is concerning...

Yes, the switch hardware is behind what the xbox and playstation can do... but its a toy. Nintendo has never forgotten that it makes toys, and that's why I like it. It sits on my table, connects to my other monitor. I listen to long form youtube videos while I play TOTK. If I'm feeling sassy, I play it handheld.

My niece has one. We play Pokémon together and I let her win battles because the point is to be fun.

WHICH BRINGS ME BACK TO MY POINT!

FUCK the grindset 'but how can I monetise every possible second?' bullshit, FUCK the 'taking this thing that should be fun way too seriously' bullshit.

LET PEOPLE DO THINGS JUST BECUASE THEY'RE FUN.

LET THINGS THAT ARE SUPPOSED TO BE FUN BE FUN.

And now I've used the word 'fun' so much it's lost all meaning.

Much like fun itself.

[milogreer]

fooliverse BA preview spoilers 🩷

listening again ‘cause the preview’s out for the public now 💕

-> “i like a house full of pretty things. you fit the bill.” lord 😵‍💫

-> milo (allegedly) swindling dmitri out of extra money by buying a wax seal dupe on etsy >>>

-> “i spent most of my life not having a lot of [options]. but i had strong magic, a great body, a good face, a few solid connections, and no baggage. […] so i offered myself up to a king.” what happened to marie :(

-> hrgggrh the footsteps as he comes around the desk towards sweetheart ….. the sfx in this one are goooddd

-> the uhh “something in the back of my brain […] something that knows exactly what it wants” bit fr made me think like. the mate bond prevails ykwim. sick

-> “steel under velvet” is such a fanfic title ass line

-> “do you want me to say please, or do you want me to tell you what to do? [...] i can be a lot of different milos. a softie. a hardass. an animal. they’re all me. people aren’t simple, but having a good time can be. so. what do you like?”

-> “goddamn, you are a fine piece of work. the bashful look is cute on you, but i hope someday i get to see you believin’ it when i say it. struttin’ around, ownin’ it.” first of all, 🥺💕. second, already planning to see them again ?? damn 😵‍💫

-> “say the words. full sentence.” I KNOWWW this man uses “sir” as his honorific. i know it.

AW MAN. NO FANGCHASER LINE IN THE PREVIEW LMAO. damn. ok then post over. back to patreon i go 😋

[bucknastysbabe]

Slips through cracks

A/N: Idk where this monstrosity TW of a beast came from but hope someone enjoys!

Rating: Explicit

Tags: TW implied ab*se, past underage, incest, weird manipulation and childhood trauma, Aegon being Aegon, drug and alcohol abuse. Modern!au, Frottage, fucked ass up greens, Daeron’s twin reader, she’s of age in this, nepo baby Aegon with a coke problem, Daddy Criston hours, I attempted to use English terms👍🏻 xoxo your pathetic American, toxic relationships

Oh boy, the trip to Oldtown. The whole family has to go see Daeron play in the Westeros Cup of football. You included. Ripped from an Essosi holiday break to cohabitate with the most dysfunctional unit of all time for a weekend. Then you could fuck back off to your own pretentious private school, Helaena could go back to her cottagecore Etsy shit, Aemond to med school, and Aegon.

You clenched your teeth at the mere thought of him. Degenerate. Drunk. ‘Wild Prince’, Asshole. You could go on. He was videoing the plane, incessantly talking to his ‘followers’. There was no way he wasn’t coked the fuck up right now. Aemond sniffed and tucked his nose further into his book, eyes rolling at the eldest.

Alicent and Viserys had already made it to Otto’s place, sending Criston Cole to keep the ‘kids’ in check. Even though you and Daeron were legal adults now. Peering over your book you watched Helaena knit a sweater in the fine print of a spider’s web. She smiled softly and asked, “Do you think he’ll like it?” She was almost done and it did look damn good, Daeron would love it. Your twin was kind and definitely could find a way to insert the handmade item into his wardrobe.

“Yeah Hel, you know he’s going to find a way to wear it every chance possible,” you laughed.

“Darling Daeron,” she sighed under her breath, eyes dreamy. You watched her nimble fingers, tuning out Aegon’s wretched talking and Aemond’s pointed noises. Eventually your eyes slipped shut, book falling into your lap.

“It’s time to get up,” he teased in your ear, you bolting upright with a gasp. Aegon smiled down at you, grinning lecherously, tucking a strand of hair behind an ear. You scoffed and stood up, shouldering him off in the process. Your big brother whined, “C’mon you’re still mad at me? I was drunkkkk.”

Being drunk does not constitute leaving your sister in your dorm for a night after promising a ‘real flea bottom party’ with his ‘famous friends’. You cried watching him being a dumbass on social media, plastered with girls and drugs. Idiot. You got an actual Uber back to the family estate, crying to Criston about your dick brother.

You ignored him further, wanting to rip that stupid earring out of his head. Aegon pouted, prodding further, even taking your bags for you. Which the dumbass never worked out so he was struggling. You couldn’t help but quirk your lips up as the eldest brother almost fell face first down the jet’s stairs.

Aemond snatched your duffel, easily hauling it over a broad shoulder. He snapped, “You being a pathetic clown isn’t going to magically fix everything.” You shared a look with Cole and snickered. Aegon grumbled, shoving his hands into his pockets, “Oh get the stick out of your arse Aem.”

Helaena drifted aside, eyes on the sky, gazing towards the tower your mother’s side of the family was named for. You followed her gaze, frowning. It was a gleaming beacon on the outside, a gloomy vault on the inside. You hated it there, unsure why they couldn’t just abdicate the site to national affairs like every other royal did. Too proud.

Cole ushered you all into the limo, giving Aegon an extra shove and low curse, the blonde rolling his eyes. You sat far away from your elder sibling, asking Aemond how school was going. He replied in that stiff way of his, “More tests and research, then hopefully I can get my first residency. I’d like to be in a high-profile area like King’s Landing or Lannisport. Get more expertise.”

You nodded along, giving your brother best wishes. He hummed, “And your studies? Last I heard you’d rather play tennis.” You rolled your eyes and snorted, “I’ve given up hope, I won’t be a professional like Daeron. Finding myself with a passion for Psychology and it’s social aspects.”

“So you can figure out what’s wrong with the Targaryen bloodline,” Aemond said.

The aggravating ringing of Aegon’s phone ruined one of your rare conversations with Aem. He apologized sheepishly but still held up a finger as he argued with someone over the phone. It was either about one of his girls, drugs, or both. You rolled your eyes and groaned, watching the city pass by as the limo bumped it’s way toward the Hightower.

“Okay, whatever, fuck you I have plenty of others!,” Aegon spat, cheeks red from annoyance. Criston reached over the limo and snatched the cell, stuffing it in a coat pocket. Your brother gaped like a dying fish before demanding, “Give that back! I was in the middle of a conversation!”

“You’re getting on everyone’s nerves. Obviously it’s not doing you any good so why don’t we take a break, eh?” His brown eyes remained stony, arms crossed authoritatively. Ser Criston was basically the surrogate dad of your group, Viserys preoccupied with his health and elder daughter, her brood.

Aegon begged but received nothing. Eventually the prince settled down when Criston said he’d return the phone after they got there. The idiot instead rolled his window down to the crowd outside and waved, cheering with the people. You could see the cameras flashing on his cheeks, Aegon just sucking it all in. Aemond slunk deep into his seat and Helaena put on her noise cancelling headphones.

Aegon’s violet eyes turned to you, breathlessly stating, “They love me you know.” You retorted, “They love how accessible you are.” Aegon’s cheery smile faltered for a second, eyes flitting down. It didn’t last long as he painted the grin back on and blew a kiss to a girl decked in Oldtown’s team colors.

Eventually the limo pulled into the high gates surrounding the tower. Attendants were already getting your bags and taking them to the assigned rooms. Your mother, Alicent, and grandpa Otto waited by one of the many grand doors. She hugged and kissed you, blessing the seven for your safe arrival. The same spiel happened except for Aegon who got a stiff kiss on the cheek. Otto and Helaena shared an embrace, your sister happily chattering to him about her sweater for Daeron.

You raised a brow and asked, “Where is Daeron anyways? With the team still?” You checked your phone to see if you missed a text. Alicent replied, “He’ll be here later, they’re finishing up practice currently.” You frowned. Daeron had better get here quick or you feared someone was going to get stuck with a knife.

Criston held out Aegon’s phone to the blonde, who snatched it up greedily. His ringed fingers and violet eyes soaked up whatever minutes he had missed. You asked, “Can I go to my room? I have a headache.” Otto put his hand at the small of your waist and said, “Yes, come on, I’ll get someone to bring you water and medicine.”

You must’ve been really tired, blinking open your groggy eyes to see that hours had passed. Stretching your body you let out a little squeak, happy to have some alone time. Then the door crashed open and a freshly showered Daeron cheered, “Sister!” You grinned and hopped out of the bed as fast as possible, tripping in the process but your sibling caught you easily.

You pulled the taller twin into a hug, gushing, “This is so exciting! Look at you, Mister Oldtown Football himself.” Daeron blushed and rolled his eyes, “Nothing but hard work, I swear,” he added lowly, “And beating off bloodsuckers.” You smirked and both of you simultaneously said, “Aegon!”

Daeron groaned, “Yes, I had to come find you so he’d stop getting me on his social media shite. He went out to party though, so we’re clear for dinner.” You laughed and replied, “Well, let’s go have some family bonding. You need to tell me all about your year.”

“No you, freezing away in the North like that.”

Bonding with Daeron was exactly what you needed. Even dinner was not unpleasant, Viserys in a jovial mood. No one spoke of the elephant in the room. Your twin did slide his phone over to you later in the sitting room, dramatically pantomiming a gag. The video was of Aegon draining a shot between some broad’s tits. You could see the coke on the table in the back, loads of it.

Aemond peered over and barked a laugh, “Oh he’s going to be a nightmare in the morning.”

You swallowed at the comment, a thought leaving as soon as it appeared.

You grumbled, “Hopefully Cole will leave him out there.” Daeron smirked, “Someone’s still mad about summer.” You batted Daeron’s shoulder, now clad in Hel’s sweater. You pouted, “Try getting left alone all night! It sucked.” Your twin gave you a look, murmuring, “I know he’s your favorite for some reason but you shouldn’t trust Aegon.” You leveled him with a glare.

Daeron dropped the subject and the rest of the evening went smoothly. You went to bed when your twin had to return to the team complex. You tossed around for a bit, wondering about your eldest brother. Eventually sleep graced you. Not for long.

You groggily beat at whoever was in your bed. You rasped, “There’s no ghosts here Daeron.” Then realization hit you. Daeron was across Oldtown. Bolting upright you flicked on the lamp to be greeted with a disheveled Aegon. His purple eyes were big and sad. Obviously he’d been crying. Your big brother was likely suffering from a coke crash into a sad drunk fit.

You cursed, “The fuck are you doing? How did you get here?”

Aegon’s plush lips wobbled as he sniffed, “Cole got me.”

“Why are you crying?”

Aegon sniveled some more, “Did you mean that earlier? Does anyone like me? Why do y-you hate me?”

You gawked at him, perplexed by the behavior. Throwing up your hands you demanded, “Aegon you’re twenty-four years old, why are you crying in my bed like we’re children? I don’t hate you, you’re just a selfish prick.”

The blonde threw himself on top of you with another cry, apologizing profusely. You sighed, “Thanks- I guess. It hurt my feelings when you left me alone all night. I thought I was more important than that, big brother.” If you were turning the screws on him, that was your business alone, but it worked like a charm.

He pulled back and shook his pale locks, blubbering, “No-no-no you are so important to me, I am a selfish prick! I’ll make it up to you when Daeron wins!” Aegon was embarrassingly pathetic. But here you were, rubbing his heaving back while he whimpered, “No one gets me like you do.” You idly wondered if he said this to other girls or just his sister, which had long been a strangeness never deeply thought about. It’s just something that was, is.

You sighed, “I love you big brother, of course I get you, now can you get the booze clothes off and we can go to bed? I have some leftover headache stuff you can take.” He snuffled into your neck, wetting your skin with more tears. Shoving the man off you gently ushered him along.

“Promise you love me? I love you more than anything little sister,” he whispered into the darkness once the light clicked off.

You replied, eyes unblinking up into the inky black of the room while he cuddled into you, “Love you more than anything big brother.” A tear slipped down your cheek but you arms were too busy wrapped around Aegon to wipe it.

You awoke again tucked into his frame like many a night from the past. He always came back to you. As soon as Daeron and you grew up enough to not be attached at the hip, that’s when Aegon sunk his talons in.

He pressed little sleepy kisses to your neck, humming in contentment. Aegon murmured, “Smell so sweet. My perfect sister.” You swallowed at the feeling of his cock swollen and nestled between your thighs, only separated by thin cotton. Wetness had already seeped out your cunt, probably started when you were still asleep.

You chided, “A-Aegon, what if mother walks in?”

He whined, “C’mon, please, missed my sister’s pussy, please baby.” You found your will crumbling at the sounds of his breathless grunts and hot cock rubbing against your swollen folds. Aegon moaned like a needy whore in your ear, rutting harder and whimpering like he couldn’t enough. His hands grabbed and groped at your tits desperately.

“Hnnn- oh fuck, you get me so horny, m’so fucking hot for you.”

You rolled your hips back easily, playing into this mood. It was like muscle memory now, start baby talking him when he got this desperate. You pitched up your moans, “Yeah? Big brother all hard n’ achy for me? Gonna mess your little sisters panties up before breakfast?”

“Fuck!,” he cried, mouthing at your shoulder with a shudder. Aegon mewled, “Yeah, yeah- mmmfuck yeah m’gonna bust, so hard for you.” You taunted, “Didn’t even get a nut off last night? My handsome big brother surrounded by all these pretty girls and- oh- has to come rut into the baby?”

The tip of his cock was dragging the soaked material of your panties across sensitive nerves. You cried Aegon’s name softly, pressing your tits into his greedy hands, squeezing around his prick. He stuttered and whined, long and loud at your ministrations. The prince whimpered out, voice strangled by desire, “I thought about you, how much mmh- better your pussy is, oh gods m’gonna cum!”

You turned around to seize his loose lips, colliding with wet smacks. Both of you drooled and whined into eachother’s mouth, fucking faster by the second. The bed was faintly squeaking by now. You gasped, “Brother! Aegon!” He rasped, “Love you oh my gods love you.”

The elder seized up, hot cum soaking and staining your underwear further. He whined through his nose, exhaling on a choppy breath. You came soon after, Aegon’s whining and tweaking at your tits sending you over the precipice with a tight squeeze and muffled wail.

Your legs trembled as he slumped against you, pressing another kiss before rolling onto his back with a sigh. He jerked you over to him while fumbling to the side for his phone. You laid quietly while he slid through the messages and videos, a frown on his lips. He asked, “Do you ever think about running off to Essos?”

You shrugged, “Sometimes. I don’t think it’ll be much different for you in Braavos or Astapor.”

He challenged, “It would be just me and you. I swear.” The phone was put away petulantly, his red rimmed eyes staring into your own. Footsteps passed outside, your eyes nervously flickering to the door. Peering back at Aegon you said, “Just say the word and I’ll go, big brother.”

He seemed satisfied at that, lips curling back up. Aegon sighed, “Good. I’ll get going then. Love you.” He pecked your lips again and darted out an old servant’s exit while you watched blankly. Holding back a retch you texted Daeron, “Good luck today!”

[am-i-the-asshole-official]

AITA for not wanting to give my friends brother a christmas present this year?

I (26nb) have a friend who was previously an irl friend who is now an internet friend.

Last year I made his brother two plushies (a velociraptor and a weighted shiny umbreon). These were both pretty time consuming and a pain in the ass to make. Additionally, I was not paid or compensated for making the gifts as at the time my friend did not have a job and I felt bad he couldn't get anything for his brother for Christmas.

This was fine with me at the time because I thought it would be a one time thing.

This year I was asked what I would be making for his brother for Christmas at the beginning of November. While I was confused about the question, I did ask him to get back to me with any ideas he wanted me to make. He let me know about halfway through December what his brother wanted. I let him know that it was probably not going to be enough time (even though I am off work right now on medical leave, I'm working on other projects for my etsy store) and essentially to not get anyone's hopes up.

As I had thought I did not have enough time to make the plushie from scratch and even struggled to find a suitable replacement plushie that was already made (one of the paw patrol dogs). When I mentioned the lack of time/that the gift wasn't going to arrive on time my friend got frustrated with me.

I haven't bought the plushie yet and now I don't want to because I've never even met my friends brother in person so I don't really understand why it's become my responsibility to manage my friends brothers Christmas presents now. Plus with me being off of work I don't have the finances to get all the new materials I'd need to make the plushie right now (last years were made with fabric i already had + some from the remnants bin at the store because I got really lucky). [Sorry for any venting that slipped in, I'm very frustrated by this.]

So, AITA for not wanting to give my friends brother a christmas present this year?

What are these acronyms?