#got home and did chores and stuff and then still got it done??? when i draw so slow????
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kingtheghast · 2 years ago
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Oh, someone’s in trouble…
(Am I a bit too eager to watch Doc blow up his base neighbors to the moon and back? Yeah maybe, but you can’t really blame me-)
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skrunksthatwunk · 3 months ago
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been cleaning my dorm for like 4 hours and it somehow does not feel like it has amounted to anything
#i have completed tasks things are better!! where the fuck is my dopamine you bitch#i couldn't deal w a lot of stuff in the way i would normally want to bc im trying to unfuck a LOT of things here#namely the cat piss closet. i have since washed basically everything in there bc they smell like piss#by virtue of sharing air with the piss for possibly weeks (im not bitter im not bitter) but ofc i can't put them#back in the closet bc it still smells like cat piss despite my best efforts#i am. very underequipped for this btw#anyway none of the major things i WANTED to be better are better despite effort (i.e. i wanted to stop living out of my suitcase#but i still can't do that bc the closet is still fucked up. so the scrubbing and scrubbing and scrubbing the floor and washing clothes#didn't lead to the tangible reward of not kicking my fucking suitcase every morning#and rascal Does Not Like It when im up and moving so a hazard of doing any chores is getting attacked#and oh boy did he#ugh i wanted to clear my weekend i had ASSIGNMENTS. I STILL HAVE ASSIGNMENTS#but thats not super appealing bc again im tired and i feel like dookie doodoo ass#but i don't want to have shit to do over the weekend bc i know my work is probably gonna be affected by my mental health#which is definitely gonna be affected by The Event. i wanna get my shit done before tomorrow afternoon but like. guh#whatever it's fine we roll nonetheless. i could probably get away with skipping another class or two over this anyway#only good thing about this#would be nice to go home and wash my face. shower. etc#anyway. if nobody got me i know kaiji fa.nart as my keyboard background got me 🤝#(chanting) no matter what kind of bad day im having kaiji's having a worse one no matter what kind of day im having kaiji's having a worse#horribly embarrassing moment where a friendly stranger in class saw like 4 kaijis in the margins and was like whos that :3#no it's not a bad thing i was just caught off guard and my drawing's rusty as fuck and whatever. bleh#im trying figure out his design bc im in trauma-bonded love aith him or whatever and#but my ass will NOT look up a reference. in class. and i haven't been drawing out of class bc ive been doing work for class. c'est la vie#wait i never closed that parenthesis. here:)#ech then again maybe i'll want the distraction of work. crossing that bridge when i get to it#after all i can just work ahead if that's the case yk#to explain the closet my roommate stayed in the dorm over winter break and i didn't and at some point in there#roomie's cat pissed on a fallen skirt like crazy. and then that piss was trapped in there for possibly weeks#and im not bitter not even a little that i didn't get an apology from my roommate. but hey don't ask and don't receive ig
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arkadijxpancakes · 7 months ago
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Yes. The Weasleys had too many kids. An analysis. (Part 2 of 2)
So, where were we? Right. The Weasleys have so many kids that it fucks with their family dynamic and with the mental health of everyone involved. Last time, we looked at Molly and Arthur during the war. We ended in 1981, which means that all kids are born, now. Molly is still nursing. (It’s common to nurse kids up to two or three years, while slowly weaning them, so I assume that this is what Molly does.) She’s finally done with becoming pregnant every other year, however. And it’s about time, because her workload is bigger, than any single person can handle. And while it will decrease over time, it will stay enormous for the next couple of years.
1982 – Bill (who will be 12 at the end of the year) starts Hogwarts. It’s his first lick of freedom. There is no babysitting-duty at Hogwarts. All he has to do is stay out of trouble and earn good grades. Other than that, he is free to do what he wants. He will be the only Weasley-sibling in Hogwarts for two years. Because of this, his parents probably have enough money in reserve to buy him a full Hogwarts-kit without resorting to second-hand-stuff too much. (He might get second-hand books, but his robes and wand are probably new.)
At home, life is still hard for Molly. She has one less kid to take care of, but the kids who are still in her care are a handful. She still needs to teach Charlie. Percy got 6 over the summer and is a little nerd, so she is likely teaching him, too. Fred and George are still chaos incarnate. (And they are just getting started, really.)
Bill’s duties (chores around the home and watching his younger brothers) get passed down to Charlie. Percy might try his hand on this, too, because he is still in direct competition with the twins and Mum gives him attention when he helps her.
The war is over and the Weasleys start to feel the effects of this. As Death Eaters are captured and sentenced, the Wizarding World starts to feel safe, again. The stress eases off (but Molly is probably still grieving.) 
Arthur’s work schedule slowly goes back to more normal levels, allowing him to spend more time at home. However, he missed out on a big chunk of his children’s childhood. It’s also hard to return to his role as a parent, because at this point, the roles of the family are pretty much established: Molly is in charge and does most of the work. Some of the easier chores are passed down to her kids (first Bill, now Charlie, later Percy). This includes watching over his younger brothers while Molly takes care of her toddlers. It’s kind of hard for him to integrate himself into this dynamic. (Just imagine him doing the laundry or the dishes – it’s very likely that he has a different way for doing this, which could easily disrupt Molly’s workflow or simply just annoy her.) 
I think he will mostly stick to the stuff he did when Bill and Charlie were little. So he’s taking his kids out for trips on the weekends. But this is difficult, too, because it’s not Bill and Charlie anymore, but Charlie, Percy, Fred and George. Their dynamic is entirely different, and it’s hard to keep an eye on all of them, while also satisfying their needs equally. (Especially because Percy, Fred and George start to clash.) As a result, the trips are probably not as frequent as they once were.
It’s also possible that Arthur picks up his Muggle-hobby at this point. (Picking up this hobby causes him to spend at least some evenings in his shed, tinkering with Muggle-stuff instead of helping his wife. I imagine him to fade into the background a little bit, while he leaves the household and child-rearing to his wife.)
1984 – Charlie starts Hogwarts.
There are now two Weasley-Siblings at Hogwarts, but things are still pretty chill for them. It’s still just Bill and Charlie, after all. Bill is probably considered trustworthy enough by his teachers to receive a time-turner, so he can take all electives Hogwarts has to offer. (I do wonder how much Molly’s expectations are playing into this. She clearly expects her children to do well at Hogwarts, both in terms of grades and behavior. At this point, he is either a massive nerd like Hermione, trying to perform well to fulfill his mother’s expectations, or both. He is also setting a standard for his siblings here, whether this is on his own accord or because of pressure he receives from Molly.)
At home, Percy (now 8) takes over Charlie’s duties. He tries to control Fred and George. It’s likely that he fails miserably. They are just too close age-wise for this to work. 
Fred and George are 6 now and start to play rough. Last year, Fred turned Ron’s teddy bear into a giant spider (which probably caused Ron to develop arachnophobia). Next year, they will try to talk Ron into making an Unbreakable Vow with them. So keeping an eye on them is getting harder, not easier.
At this point in time, Scabbers exceeds the life span of his species. Rats can get up to two or three years old. (And Rowling knows this. This information is included in book 3, when Ron takes Scabbers to the pet store to have the witch there check on him.) This is Scabbers third year with the Weasleys, so his time is up. No one seems to notice, though. I don’t blame Percy (or the other kids) for this, but Molly and Arthur should notice that they don’t have to replace a rat or have a talk about how Scabbers is happier in the great rat heaven. They don’t and I wonder why. My suggestions are: a) They are either not paying any attention to Percy and his pet (which would suck) or b) Scabbers is turning into Peter and uses a wand (his own or Molly’s) to confund them as needed (which would suck even more).
1987 – Percy starts Hogwarts.
At the end of the 1986/87 school year, Bill (who is a prefect now) takes his OWL in all 12 courses Hogwarts has to offer. It’s possible he returns his time turner after this or keeps it until his graduation to deal with his NEWT-workload. He now starts his sixth year. Charlie is in his fourth year and is already on the Quidditch team. Molly is very, very proud of both of them.
Percy is a wee first year and doesn’t have to watch out for any younger siblings for once. He can focus on learning instead. He is probably the first boy in the family to end up with hand-me-down robes, as he has a similar build as Bill and Bill has probably outgrown his first set.
Scabbers is six, now. So he has lived twice as long as a normal rat would. Still, no one has caught up to the fact that he is awfully old for a rat. It’s very likely that he accompanies Percy to Hogwarts. (It should be noted that Hogwarts only allows cats, owls and toads as pets, so Percy probably got a permission to bring a rat instead. However, no one at the school notices Scabber’s age either.)
Life at home is still chaotic. Fred and George are 10, Ron is 8 and Ginny is 7. Molly is probably teaching all of them. Her workload is slowly going down to a more manageable level, but keeping the twins in check is still a challenge.
She probably doesn’t expect Fred and George to do chores and watch over their siblings. (At least not in the same way she expected from her older kids.) Mostly, because she can’t trust them to do it. (Remember the Unbreakable Vow? Yeah, that.) Additionally, Ron simply has no authority over them, so that’s not an option either.
1989 – Fred and George start Hogwarts.
In his seventh year, Bill was made Head Boy. By now, he took his NEWTs and left school. He probably returns home for a little while, before he takes the first chance he gets to fuck off to Egypt and play with cursed tombs. (We should probably talk about English wizards, Egyptian treasures and colonialism here, but that’s a completely different can of worms.)
Charlie took his OWL and is now in his sixth year. He’s still on the Quidditch team and should be Quidditch Captain by now. He’s also a prefect. So between them, they got all the big achievements Hogwarts has to offer: Prefect (both of them), Head Boy (Bill) and Quidditch Captain (Charlie). Bill also got 12 OWL, which is an achievement on its own. Molly will measure her other children against this later.
Speaking of Molly: While her home life is going to relax a lot this year, her expectations are still around. She is still expecting her kids to do well in school. Considering that Fred and George are now at Hogwarts, the old demand “Watch over your younger siblings!” is back and in full swing. I can’t see Charlie doing it – he has his head full of dragons and Quidditch and lived five blissful years in Hogwarts without the need to look after anyone all that much. Sure, Percy was at school, but he has already learned to look after himself. I don’t think Charlie will start with this now. Not unless the twins interfere with his prefect- or Quidditch-duties or are completely out of line.
Percy is a different story, however. He is in his third year and still taking after Bill. Just like Bill he takes all electives, so it is likely that he also gets a time turner for this. At this point, Percy has ingrained the idea that he needs to perform exceptionally well at school and Bill set an incredible high bar to reach, but he is willing to do just that. He also spent a lot more time at home dealing with the twins. Molly’s expectations for him to be a good boy and to look after his younger brothers will now put pressure on him again. He will probably try to control their chaotic behavior, but they are 11 now, and they will listen to him even less than before.
For Fred and George, this is heaven. They finally escaped the watchful eyes of their mother and have a whole new world to explore. So many secret passageways and even more victims to play pranks on. Percy is annoying, but they can play pranks on him, too. They will soon steal the Marauder’s Map from Filch’s office, which will open up even more possibilities. It’s great. 10/10, no notes.
Life at home is finally manageable. It’s just Molly, Ron and Ginny (and also Arthur and his Muggle-stuff). This is probably a nice time for Ron, because there are no older siblings around to steal his limelight. However, at this point he has the family dynamic internalized and his self-esteem is pretty low overall.
1991 – Ron starts Hogwarts.
By now, Charlie has left Hogwarts. It is unlikely that he actually finished his education, however. When Harry becomes a member of the Gryffindor team in Philosopher’s Stone, Fred says: “We haven’t won since Charlie left, but this year’s team is going to be brilliant.” Had Charlie finished his education, he would have left in summer 1991. The quote is from autumn 1991. In this case, the quote would make no sense, because there were no matches for Gryffindor to lose between Charlie leaving and Harry becoming Gryffindor’s new seeker. So he must have left before then, probably sometime in his sixth or seventh year, after his seventeenth birthday.
It’s important to note that we don’t read about any fights over this. I can’t imagine Molly being happy with this, but he must have had her permission. (Otherwise we would know about it. Molly can’t shut up about the failures of the twins, she would not shut up about Charlie’s failures either.)
Percy is in his fifth year and a prefect. By now he is the career-driven rules lawyer we meet in canon. He will end this school year by taking all 12 OWL – just like Bill. (When Ron is made prefect in OotP, Molly makes sure to tell everyone that he is now a prefect, just like his older brothers, and she seems very comfortable doing so. I assume, Percy heard his fair share of this, when he was made prefect.)
The twins are in their third year and members of Gryffindor’s Quidditch team. By now, they have earned themselves a reputation as pranksters.
Ron is the sixth Weasley-kid to enter Hogwarts. While his older siblings might have gotten some second-hand stuff, everything he owns was basically handed down to him: Bill’s old robes, Charlie’s old wand and Percy’s old pet rat. To be clear: none of those things make much sense to hand down (or at least not to Ron).
Bill’s old robes should have gone to Percy after Bill left Hogwarts. They should be of a similar height, while Ron (as an eleven-year-old) should be somewhat smaller. Instead of handling it that way, Percy got new robes as a reward and Bill’s robes were handed down to Ron. This is clear favoritism on Molly’s part. It’s no surprise that Ron (who already feels overlooked by his parents) feels upset about it.
Giving him Charlie’s old wand makes even less sense. We know, that the wand chooses its wizard. Charlie’s wand did not choose Ron, so it would not perform as well for him. In addition, in book 1 the wand is described as follows: “He rummaged around in his trunk and pulled out a very battered-looking wand. It was chipped in places and something white was glinting at the end.”
That thing is basically falling apart. That was either a lot of wear and tear during Charlie’s time at Hogwarts (considering the fact that we have not heard anything about this with other wands, this is unlikely) or the wand was already a hand-me-down when Charlie got it. In either case, giving Ron a wand that has its core more or less poking out, doesn’t sound very safe. I wonder why Arthur and Molly decided to do this. Did they expect Ron to have a great learning experience with a damaged wand? Did they want Ron to use the wand until it eventually did break, saving them another year or two before they had to buy a new one? (And yes, they would indeed need to buy him a new one in his third year, but they had no way of knowing that. Unless there are prophecies for that kind of shit. And even then. The fuck?)
Money is tight, of course. But is it really that tight? They could afford to get Percy an owl, after all. And buying a wand for their son is an expense they've had 11 years to plan. I understand getting second-hand robes and cauldrons, as they see a lot of wear and tear. But this should not apply to a wand in the same way. This is just really, really odd.
And then there is the elephant – and with elephant I mean rat – in the room: Scabbers. Firstly, that rat should be dead for at least seven years by now. No one seems to notice. No one cares. What the fuck.
Secondly, why is Percy giving his pet to Ron? There just isn’t a great explanation for this. Scabbers has been his pet for ten years. TEN. Percy should be attached to his pet like glue. After all, he has Scabbers since he can remember. Why is he willing to part with his rat? The only reasons I can think of:
1) He does it because Molly asks him to. She is clearly playing favorites, here. Not only does he get new robes when he becomes prefect, but he also receives his very own owl as a gift. It’s possible that this owl comes with strings attached, and Percy is required to give Scabbers to Ron to get the owl. Which would be a pretty fucked up situation for every child involved and should’ve been handled differently.
2) Percy wants to get rid of Scabbers. He doesn’t know about Scabbers’ Peter-shaped secret, of course (otherwise he would’ve reported this). But it is possible that he feels, on a subconscious level, that something about Scabbers is off. Not in a dangerous way (again, he would’ve reported this), just in an unpleasant way. (This would still be odd. Especially when we consider that no one noticed Scabbers age.)
3) Scabbers has decided that it’s time to jump ship. Percy just turned fifteen this year. He is old enough to grow suspicious of his seemingly immortal rat. It’s possible that he cozied up to Ron to manipulate both boys into making the switch. Or he turned into Peter and confunded some Weasleys. Who knows. He’s still a Death Eater and mass murderer on the run, after all.
1992 – Ginny starts Hogwarts.
The flock has left the nest. Molly’s work is mostly over. It’s just her and Arthur who stay at the burrow. She still takes care of the household, but the responsibility for her kids rest on other people’s shoulders, now. There is nothing left to do, except knitting, sending care packages, worrying about her kids careers and hexing the occasional howler. Molly could get a job now or pick up a hobby or two. I mean, she does read Gilderoy Lockhart’s shitty books. She is a fan of his, after all. But she doesn’t seem to enter any community over this (no fan club, no reading circle, no nothing. It’s just her). And there are no other hobbies outside of that. 
Apropos community: We don’t really see her having a community. She is a pretty important side character, but the books never mention that she has friends or other contacts outside her family. It seems like she is focusing on her kids and only on her kids.
Which would explain her meddling. Because Molly meddles a lot, when it comes to her kids and their futures. She keeps putting pressure on Percy to look after his younger siblings – this will expand to Harry after she gets to know him. Percy (still a good boy) does as she wishes. It’s not healthy, neither for him nor for his relationship with his siblings (who are mostly annoyed by him), but Molly either doesn’t notice or doesn’t care. In the future, she will be very cross with Hermione after reading Rita Skeeters articles about her. She will also be upset about the twins' career choice and Bill's choice of girlfriend…
And yeah, that’s basically it. At this point, the family dynamic is firmly established and ingrained in her children’s heads. Percy is already set up to explode in the near future. Being Molly’s Golden Child is neither good nor healthy, especially considering all the pressure that comes along with it. His relationship with his siblings isn’t all that great, either.
Fun fact: We don’t know if anyone ever told him about Scabbers’ Peter-shaped secret. If it did happen, it was probably pretty traumatic. That shit-show was his pet for ten fucking years and he handed it down to his younger brother. That’s nightmare fuel, even if Peter never hurt any of them.
The twins have firmly established themselves as troublemakers. At least some of their “jokes” really aren’t funny and border on cruel, neglectful and/or harmful. (Remember the Unbreakable Vow? Yeah, still not funny. In 1993, they also tried to lock Percy in a pyramid. Yes, I don’t think they wanted to hurt him, not really, but that thing was still a cursed tomb. Things could have gone wrong, and at that point they were old enough to know better. In their last year they tested their joke-sweets on younger students who were neither adequately informed nor old enough to consent for something like this. Yes, they tested the sweets on themselves first, but something could still have gone wrong because of allergies and all that stuff. And after they left Hogwarts and started their joke shop, they do sell love potions to students, complete with options to smuggle that shit into school. Additionally, instead of going bad/losing their potency, those love potions get stronger with age. This alone is a horror story waiting to happen.)
Ron is affected, too. His self-esteem is pretty low when he starts Hogwarts and it will stay that way throughout the series. This will inform a lot of his decisions (especially the bad ones) in the future. 
We don’t know much about how all of this affected Bill, Charlie and Ginny. Bill and Charlie just aren’t as involved in the narrative, and Ginny stays kind of… bland and love interest-ish… throughout the story.
So… yeah?
Am I saying that the Weasleys did not love their kids? No, of course not. Especially Molly shows her love regularly. (Her love is more like a water hose than a watering can, however. Very intense and focussed on a single spot at a time, instead of reaching all her kids equally.)
What I am saying is that the Weasleys, as a family, are pretty dysfunctional. Many factors are playing into this – Molly’s and Arthur’s dynamic as a couple and as parents, the number of their kids, the war, etc. It’s impacting all of them negatively. Molly is stressed out, Arthur is out of touch and some of their kids lose their trust (either in their parents, in their siblings or in themselves.) It also makes their love feel conditional. The twins feel this whenever Molly is comparing them with their older (more well-behaved) brothers. Percy feels this when he comes home with that promotion and is demoted from Golden Child to family-traitor within a heartbeat. Ron has internalized it and desperately seeks attention and affection elsewhere.
They still love each other, but it’s a difficult position to be in for most of them.
And the worst thing: I don’t think Rowling notices any of this. She did not intend the family to be as dysfunctional as it is. She keeps portraying the Weasleys as this great, loving family who took Harry in when he needed it the most. And of course they did – but that’s not all there is to it. There are so many issues that go unresolved in the books. Molly never learns to back off. The responsibility for the conflict between Arthur and Percy is placed entirely on Percy, despite Arthur being at fault, too. The twins never really learn that a prank can go too far. Ron doesn’t really solve his self-esteem-issues. Rowling does start to give him some character development regarding his self-esteem-issues multiple times, but he always seems to revert back over the course of the summer holidays. 
The family really deserved more effort to go into the writing.
Note: This analysis is not meant to say that stay-at-home parents are bad or that Molly should have gotten a job while having seven little kids at home. What I am criticizing is the way we treat care work. Because it is work, and a lot of work. A stay-at-home parent is often on call 24/7. A stay-at-home parent never really gets to take a break, never can take a day off, and never just can leave their work for another day. But they do deserve breaks and days off, just like any person with a day job. And that is where their partners and the rest of their families come in.
And this is the other thing I wanted to criticize here: The way we glorify living as a nuclear family. It’s said that you need a village to raise a kid and I do think this is true. Having more people involved in child-rearing (be it relatives, neighbors or professionals like teachers) is a boon. Families had access to this for millennia. Raising your kids with the help of your family and your village was normal, up until very recently. And it’s a shame that the Weasleys seemingly had no help like this. And yes, I do see the fault with Rowling, who wrote them that way. She basically took the concept of the nuclear families of the 1980s and 1990s and slapped it onto the family, without any world building at all.
(Please also note, that I consider stay-at-home parents to be different from tradwives. When I use the term “tradwife”, I am specifically referring to stay-at-home mothers who do not just take care of their household and their kids, but who also commit themselves to having as many kids as possible and who tend to take on other duties (like homeschooling) as well. The most common examples of this are probably families who belong to fundamentalist Christian churches or cults.)
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xxknockoutxx · 8 months ago
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Izuku
(this is just something to put out for fun but I take heavy inspiration from Glitched they're freaking amazing! I hope they are doing well ❤️‍🩹🥦)
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It was another day of sitting at home without a care in the world. Waiting for your husband to come home, this was the one day where you weren't working or out doing chores. The giant house that you and your pro hero husband inhabited was so intimidatingly big, that seeing the house so quiet and empty kinda scared you but in a good way. Like a really secured way.
It wasn't all that lonely I suppose with your husband texting you every once and in a while with memes or compliments or how much he misses you. He's gotten the hang of One for All and is the number 1 hero. All this sounds pretty good for you guys but it's not...
The stronger your hunk of a husband gets, the longer he'll be working and that means less time for you too. This was probably the 3rd day he'd been vacant from the house this week so you were tired of it. I mean who wouldn't be?
I'm just gonna have to make him forget work when he comes back. you thought. Sure it was a lot easier said than done but you are Y/-fuckin-N! Ain't nobody or nothing gonna stop you from getting what you want✨
*Bzzz* Your phone buzzes and you find out it's your husband.
🥦My hero🥦: Hey baby I got some good news! 😁
I'll be home either tonight or next morning! I can't wait to see my precious little Bunny💚
Your heart swelled as you read the text you eagerly texted him back showing your excitement before going back to brainstorming. Shit.... Now you're on a time limit. With little time you began thinking about a dinner; one with a huge table full of different foods and of course dessert but will that be enough for your busy husband to stay home?
Annoyed and stressed, you just focus on that one thing, preparing food. You walked into the kitchen and searched the full fridge for things to cook. thankfully you had the ingredients to try some viral recipe you saw on Pinterest.
After cooking and laying everything out on the table you decided to change into something more anticipating you changed into some tiny pajamas and black lingerie under it. Surely it would do something to him to see those thin, black and green panties.
"Bun! I'm home!" Your heart froze up before running to the front door and hugging and kissing the breath out of Izuku.
"baby! Hiii" "Hey bun... You look so....- He takes in the way that the shirt you were wearing hugs your curves. The way that it just barely shows the outline of your hardening nipples. —Good..."
"I made you a little sumthin-" You help him put his stuff down and drag him towards the kitchen. This food is gonna be so fucking good that he's gonna eat this and then eat me- wait.
As Izuku takes a seat and looks in awe at all the food on the table. After working 22 hour shifts for 3 days straight you get kinda hungry. He waited for you to be seated as you walked to the table with his plate of healthy servings.
"thank you so much, Bunny. I love you."
You smile and join him at the table, in your rightful chair or throne rather; Izuku's lap.
He begins to chow down on all of his food rather quickly, while spouting his compliments about you and the food. "Wow this is so good, Bun" and "You look so pretty today" and "Did you get all dolled up for me?"
At the end of the meal you carefully bring him upstairs and take off his hero gear. Making sure to be slow and to add a sway to your movements. At this point Izuku's eyes were lidded and he still had that same smile of adoration but it seemed almost suspecting.
You pushed him back on the bed and slowly took off the pajamas. (Deku merch obviously) Under it you had your dark green and black lingerie.
"wow.. you were ready for me, weren't you bun?"
He cups your cheek and pulls you onto his lap. You feel his warm, calloused hand touch your face as a familiar sensation of Izuku's bulge rubbing against your sweet spot.
You lean in for a kiss and start playing with the zipper on his hero suit pants. As you do he slips a hand on your waist and deepens the kiss while helping you loosen his pants and takes off his suit.
"lemme help you with that bun..."
✩.・*:。≻─────────── ⋆♡⋆ ───────────.•*:。✩
"F-fuck! Wait! Izu...." Of course after working for so long and so hard your husband is gonna be a little pent up. Not being able to come home to see his pretty, loyal wife. The only way to solve that? A fucking mating press. Nothing can compare to the satisfaction of a good fucking. Especially passionate, rough and deep sex.
I mean if you aren't screaming his name at the end is it even considered a good fucking? Clearly he isn't putting in enough effort if you give him a reaction that's anything less than a moan of his name, unintelligible mumbles, or praises. So he'll go for a couple hours. Maybe he'll be satisfied after a few positions, some breeding, and marking. Just to make sure you know you're his.
And right after he would take a shower with you cuddle with you and make sure you were at 100 percent and then only then would he go to sleep with you in his arms. An unbreakable grasp.
Then he'll do the same thing next week.
⏤͟͟͞͞☆𝐊𝐧𝐨𝐱.
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p-seduonym · 15 days ago
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The Little Light That Got Lost (Part Nine)
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A/N: Yall I was so wrapped up in the two updates yesterday that I forgot I had homework. Was up for hours finishing it. Anyway, here's more of my bad life decisions. I should be reading Shakespeare right now but I'd rather make this.
Taglist: @cheust, @i-simp-for-women, @goodsoup19, @143637-hrrm, @delias-stuff, @12nitled, @cutenessbun, @rinkydinkythinky, @trashlanternfish360, @bunbunbread, @daddysfangirls-dc, @justannie18, @moon0goddess
Part One
Part Two
Part 2.5
Interlude
Part Three
Part Four
Part Five
Part Six
Part Seven
Part Eight
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Gotham City Municipal Archives — Document No. 2287-A Collection: Morwen Estate Holdings Recovered: October 16, 1936 – from subfloor storage, Morwen Parish House (formerly Wayne Estate) Condition: Bound parchment folio, twine binding. Ink faded. Final pages partially destroyed by moisture.
Document Title: "Untitled Journal (Author Unknown, presumed female servant of Wayne Household, ca. 1640s–1660s)"
Archival Notes:
Entries contain frequent references to infant care, religious guilt, dreams, and sightings of the dead.
Name “Yaya” appears repeatedly, possibly a nickname or spiritual moniker.
Multiple entries imply mistreatment by an unnamed governess and inappropriate attentions from a male figure— possibly Nathaniel Wayne, referred to as “The Master”
Final pages include erratic symbols and fragmented writing.
Catalogued by: A. Kearney, Archivist
Accessed by: John Constantine
[Journal Entry--date unknown]
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madam is sick. she don’t rise no more. she dont eat cept a bite or sip. the babe did wake at the 3rd hour. madam did not move. I shaked her and say “madam, the babe be hungry” but she dont hear me or dont want to. I give the babe pap. he cry till light come. master come home after a long while. I say madam be bad sick. he say I am to sit with her, watch her close. I dont want that. I dont like the room. there is little fiends there. they watch me by madam bed. I do not tell master that. nites is heavy. sumone is watchin me. not the shades. not them. it feel like eyes behind the wall. when I cant sleep I rock the babe. the babe burn hot. he dont stop crying.
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lace is hard to make. takes long time. like the babe. the babe call me Yaya. he cant say my name rite. master say my name much. he say it pretty. he say it soft. he say it like a prayr.
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miss did screem at me for the pot fallin. twas not me what done it. twas the babe. they be walkin now. but not walkin right. I din’t say nothin to miss. she hit my hands with the switch. five time. it hurt bad. I did not cry but I wanted. I went to market today. wheat cost dear.they say crops be dyin. they grow then curl up dead. they whisper bout miss annie. they say she be witch. I bringed her a flouer. she gave me a shilling
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the babe love flouers. in the mornin when I dont see them, they be in the medow. I scold them but they smile. then I smile too. master bring me a fruit. a fig he call it. it taste like honey. smell like flouers. I say thank you. master say he bring me more.
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master’s oldest is kind. he been at school. he know many things. he come home and smile at me. not like others do. he say my lace is real pretty. I say thank you. I think I was smilin too.
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madam died. she was in bed. I was by her side. the babe was in my lap. they was sleepy but tryn not to. I say sleep now. then madam say “may I sleep?” I say yes. she dont wake up.
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no one say nothin bout madam. the house is quiet but not soft. it feel heavy like rain comin. miss wont look at me. she give me chores and dont say please. the babe cry more now. they look at doors like they waitin. I clean madam room but I dont touch the bed. I think she still there. not in the bed. in the walls. in the air. I say sorry. I dont know why. just feel like I must. I tell the babe she sleepin long. they nod like they know. master come to me today. he say I done good with madam and the babe. he say I am strong girl. he touch my hair. I dont like it. he say I look like spring. I dont know what he mean. he say I must stay close now. he say he need me. I nod. I dont speak. when he go, I wash my hair.
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the oldest come again. he say I should go. I didn’t know why. it made my heart hurt. did I wrong him? he not mad. he look sad. he say there a place. far. kansas, he say. he take me if I say yes. I don’t know.
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the big one is gone. the oldest. they say he fall in the pond. but he swim good. he always swim. they pull him out and he don’t breathe. miss scream. master dont. the babe hold tight to me.  I think I saw somethin. his eyes was open when they find him. mouth too. like he tryin to say.
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miss be mad at me. I heard her and master talkin low. she say I am cursed. say I bring bad things. maybe I do. I see things. but I dont tell her. I never told her. she aint s’posed to know. maybe they tell her. the ones in the walls. the ones what watch. shell go to the revrent, she says. she say I am made wrong.  that sin do live in girls what got no mama. Revrent say the Lord don’t suffer witches. I don’t be no witch.
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miss is gone now. I found her. bottom of the stair. her neck was wrong. bent like branch. they say she fell. but she don’t fall like that. master come. not alone. men with him. he grab me. took me to the cellar. it cold down here. I aint done nothin.
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A/N: ooh getting into Yaya's past. She's supposed to be semi-literate so that's why the spelling is bad. I promise it's not cause I suck at writing. Btw, you ever written for a puritan era semi-literate servant? Shit's hard. Anyway, hope you liked it!
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pricegouge · 3 months ago
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Gougie, I saw your little post about fairy!reader caught in a spiderweb and being found by Soap - and I didn't think I was in to microphilia but holy shit that one post sent me down a rabbit hole. Hot damn. Like.
I just wanna be a lil fairy, small enough for the boys to carry me around in their pockets when I'm sleepy.
Soap pries this cute lil fairy from the spiderweb but ooohh no it looks like a wing was broken in your struggle - those things are so delicate what a shame. And you look up at Soap all wide eyed, maybe a little teary bc ouchies, and he's like well he can just leave you there, flightless and injured.
Maybe there's a language barrier, so you don't really know exactly whats going on, BUT WHO CARES, this handsome human just saved you from a far worse fate than just a broken little wing. Freak matches freak, Soap wants to keep you bc your so small and sooooo cute sitting in the palm of his hand like that - and you don't want to leave! Not when this human is giving you all the attention in the world!
Basically never leave his side when he's not on a mission. If he is gone on a mission he leaves you with Kate to look after you and you are INCONSOLABLE. WHERE DID YOUR HUMAN GO?? BRING HIM BACK!!! THAT'S MY HUMAN!!!
When he comes home in one piece you get to pepper his face with tiny, sweet kisses. He can't help but laugh a little, its rather ticklish to have your little lips on his cheek. He makes sure to return the affection tho, picking you off his shoulder and cupping you gently in his palms, and then kissing you up and down. His kisses are downright smothering, but they still leave you giggling and flushed, hair a little disheveled, breathless and aching for more.
And then riding around on his shoulder while he's home from being deployed, watching every little thing he does, content to lean against his neck bc he's so warm and always conscious of you.
When he's doing paperwork you're basically a little fidget toy for him, which you are more than pleased with. He keeps you laying on your belly in his free hand, idly running his thumb up and down your back - free massage! And you just fall asleep all warm and soft until he's done. Sometimes he puts his thumb on your cute little ass and wiggles you around just for fun. Maybe if you've been well behaved and not a mischevious little shit, he'll let you grind on his finger until you're satisfied. Mumbling praise and sweet nothin's at you - you don't fully understand what he's saying, but you don't care, you love the sound of his voice and you know he's being sweet on you, and that's all you need to finish.
Ofc whatever mess you made, he can just lick clean, he has no objections there.
When he's relaxing on the couch, watching TV, you can just curl up on his chest - maybe he buttons down his shirt just enough so you can lay on his hairy chest, and keeps his hand cupped over your little body like a blanket. Feeds you bites from whatever candy or snack he has with him - he doesn't let you have any of his alcohol tho, last time he let you try a strong drink, you got drunk after just two or three sips of the stuff and you were cranky and hungover the whole next day. As lightweight as you are small.
So.... yeah.... I might just be into that shit now....
this was so unexpectedly fluffy my god :')
imagine being that small and trying to take care of him in kind. you want to help out where you can, return the favor as much as you're able because he's been so good to you, but it's so hard! chores are right out because everything is so big! and you're just a little thing :( but you can help with his person, usually. feeding him chunks of strawberries that make you sweat when you go to pick them up, breathless with effort and laughter when he snaps his teeth at you playfully. he's never taken care of his nails before you and it shows, but that's okay, you like knowing his fingers better than anyone - better even than him, probably, as you doubt he can see well enough to spot that thin, silvery thread of scar that covers his knuckle, the one you think he must've gotten when he was still young judging by how fully it's healed. you like to imagine what had caused it, almost prefer being unable to ask because this way, it could be anything. maybe he'd even gotten it while taking care of another scary spider!
and you're more than happy to help when he has... different needs.
most of the time he just likes watching you, gets himself off as you writhe on his palm or balanced precariously on the mountainous bulk of his thighs. he likes comparing you to himself when you're there, makes your face heat as he chuckles, seeing how you're barely taller than his cock. sometimes, he lubes himself up copiously and cradles you in his palm as he strokes himself, careful to let you do all the squeezing with your limbs wrapped tight around his shaft lest he accidentally crushed you. it's nice, feeling the strong pulse of his vein throbbing against your clit, your nipples catching on the ridge of his glans with every upstroke. it's better yet when he doesn't drag you along, though, lets you stay put with your mouth working against his cockhole, kissing it the way you've seen humans kiss each other, with your tongue darting in to steal quick tastes of his cum.
unfortunately, he tends to drench you when he does cum, the sticky fluid catching in your hair and blocking off your airflow until he wipes it off with a gentle thumb. he's always so sweet after though, you can't be mad at him - coos as he helps you wash it all off because he knows it's too thick for you to properly scrub. he always lets you sleep in the big bed after, something that usually gives him pause because he's so afraid of crushing you. but it seems he needs you close just as much as you need him after nights like this, even going so far as to button his shirt around you just to keep you warm and close.
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wandaslullaby · 3 months ago
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Power Run || Wanda Maximoff x Reader
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summary: the turn of events ignites something inside you.
part 2 of test track
warnings: lactation kink
------------
There was no doubt that you were a vivid dreamer but, the events that happened last night surely wasn't real. It couldn't be, there was no way you would infantilize yourself for Wanda. You weren't exactly attracted to women, but something came undone when Wanda outed you for essentially being a creep. It wasn't intentional, you were a sucker for tits and prying on Wanda isn't something that's illegal, it just felt like the universe wanted you there to see them.
For a long time you weren't a heavy sleep but how fortunate is it that after Wanda used her nurturing skills, something you always wanted from your own mother, you were breathing heavily and woke up freely without no disturbances.
"Y/N? You still asleep?" Tommy crept in, cup of hot chocolate with fresh cream and marshmallows in his hands.
You turned towards the voice, shaking your head as you watched Tommy come towards you. "Hot coco? I haven't had this since I was a kid."
Tommy frowned, he knew about your shitty homelife but never wanted to bring it up without you talking about it first.
"Mum usually makes this for us when we finally understand what we did was wrong. Bit strange since you haven't done anything." Tommy took a breath, "You didn't do anything wrong, right Y/N?"
The instant regret found you. You quickly shaked your head, taking the hot chocolate from him. "I haven't, has Wanda said anything?"
"Nope. She's been extra weird today though. Something must of lifted her spirts because before you came over, she was ranting to her best friend, Agatha about my dad."
You took a sip, moaning at the taste of the drink. "This is so good, how have I never had one?"
"Like I said, it only comes when you learn a lesson."
You stayed silent, taking small sips as Tommy started to tell you all the details of the party. As Tommy kept going on about Flash and how they made out in the garden, you couldn't stop thinking about last night. It felt like every time you fidgeted, you felt your panties getting wetter at the sight of how Wanda was with you. You weren't quite sure why you kept replaying the moments when you knew that it wasn't right.
"So now, I'm getting ready for a date with Flash. He is going to pick me up soon and going to head to the arcade."
"Is this my queue to leave then?"
"Definitely not." Tommy said. "Actually, I was thinking if you could help my mum out today? She really needs some help with house stuff and I kinda told her that you were good at that stuff..."
You signed, "I have to get back home, Tommo. Mum's probably going to go ma-"
"I just got off the phone with her, sweets. She is more than happy for you to be here helping a fellow neighbour out. Apparently, I've heard that you haven't done any chores for your neighbours in a while which is very disappointing." Wanda said, walking into the spare bedroom.
Tommy looked over at you, "Maybe that's why you got hot chocolate today?"
Wanda gazed at you, grinning at the sight of how dumbfounded you became. "I think Y/N knows exactly what she has done, baby. Isn't that right?"
You coughed, nodding trying to not look at Tommy's confused face. "I would be happy to help you. May i have a shower first?"
And that was Tommy queue to get ready. You both watched Tommy walk away, vanishing into the hallway. Now it was just you and Wanda, and for some reason you weren't exactly sure how to behave around her.
"I think you ought to have a bath, baby. We don't want to have another sticky situation, do we?"
"No, we don't" You breathed, and watched as Wanda held her hand out for you to hold.
"Hold my hand tight. Those little bambi legs can go so far." Wanda giggled, as you obediently held her hand and followed her. You thought Wanda would leave you for some peace but here she was, lifting you up to sit on the sink as she started to peel your clothes off.
Something about this felt invasive, but somehow you felt your head slump into her chest. Wanda didn't even bat an eyelid and carefully aided you until you were naked. She slowly unzips her t-shirt, something that nursing mother's would wear and pushed it to the side. "How rude of me, you haven't had any breakfast have you? You were waiting for Mommy weren't you?"
You didn't even respond and didn't fight when Wanda slowly lifted your head towards the direction of her tit. Wanda was about to explain her action but she hissed as you latched tightly onto her nipple, sucking aggressively. She tried to get you off but you only whined and carried on sucking.
"Slowly, baby. You are going to get a tummy ache." Wanda cooed as she watched from the mirror how well you were arched. She knew that you weren't stopping anytime soon, so she carefully took her phone out, and started to record you. The soft moans and whimpers coming from you was a sign that you were almost finished. She stopped the recording, placing her phone back into her pocket and stroked your crimson cheeks.
"You are going to drink me dry, baby." Wanda whispered into your ear but you didn't care, you were so drunk on her milk that you didn't want to stop. Wanda laughed not expecting you to be so open to this but as much as she wanted to watch the sight of you latching onto her tits, you needed a bath.
Your movements came to an end and Wanda slowly lifted your head, admiring the drunken state of you. She grinned, wiping the excess of her milk with her finger before giving you a kiss on your forehead.
"Did you like that?" Wanda whispered, stroking your hair.
"Mhm" you responded and detached yourself from her. Wanda waited until you were ready to get into the bath for the confusing to enter.
"W-What just happened?" You said, "Why does my tummy hurt and feel so full?"
Wanda breathed, she was totally excepting you to lash out. "You had too much milk, baby. You almost drank me dry."
You furrowed your eyebrows, "Drank you? How could I-" That's when you realised what you had done. You were levelled to her tits, looking directly at the swollen nipple on her right tit. Tears swam in your eyes as you huddled yourself, "I did that? I'm so sorry Wanda, I don't know why I did that?" You cried, "What's happening to me?"
Wanda heart sank, she knew that you were troubled but watching you fuss burned something inside her. "Nothing is happening to you, sweetheart, you just got a little carried away."
"Carried away? I sucked your tit, Wanda. That's what babies do!" You said, "I don't know why I'm turning into a needy little girl. I've always been independent and now i feel like I need your touch, 24/7."
Wanda wrapped you into her frame, gently calming you down. "It's okay to have these feelings, sweetie. I think you just feel a little neglected from home and watching how i take care of my boys, i can't imagine how jealous you would be."
"They don't behave like that, like me. I've never seen them be nurturing towards you. Why am I?"
"You're a girl. A sweet, naivee and stupid girl that just needed some female attention." Wanda laughed, almost turning it around to make you feel more embarrassed than you were.
You signed, not really understanding. "It won't happen again, I promise."
Wanda only agreed, but she knew that her remedies were taking effect quicker than she excepted. She knew once she poured a special something in your hot chocolate that something inside you that you tried to hide would come to the surface, and now that it has, Wanda needed a chat with Agatha, the town's secret witch.
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cheriladycl01 · 11 months ago
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hiya could you maybe write a Fernando x Reader one shot, where something happens between the two of them they get into a fight and Fernando gives the reader the silent treatment refuses to talk to them. Goes on for a few days and finally the reader cracks and is really upset and cries in front of Nando reader thinks he doesn’t love her anymore etc.. and they make up in the end.. as much as I want it angsty I do love the fluff in the end
The Silent Treatment - Fernando x Reader
Plot: You and Fernando get into a rare fight. It’s a big one though and you say something you didn’t really mean making Fernando give you the pouty silent treatment …
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You and Fernando were like salt and pepper and butter and bread. You rarely argued and always got alone, if you did argue you both had effortless communication skills meaning that whatever happened was resolved pretty quickly.
But after a not so good race weekend for Fernando that you couldn't attend because you were halfway across the world singing for a collab bran deal you were doing and a stressful weekend for you creating content for this brand deal you were exhausted when you got him straight from the plane Monday night.
"Hey" you smile tiredly at Fernando who is sat on the sofa. You're so sleepy you don't even notice his sour look.
"What is this?" he demands looking around the house and you look over to him confused at his raised voice.
"What?" you ask and he gestures to the house, you look around and you could tell it was a little disorganized and messy than it usually was but not dirty or unclean.
"Sorry honey, but we've both been extremely busy this weekend! I left only a few hours after you. You came back before me" you giggle thinking he wasn't actually mad, but the minute he stood up starting to do everything himself in an overly aggressive way had you at a stand still. Like a deer caught in headlights. He'd never acted like this before. It must have been a really bad weekend.
"Baby, why don't you sit down. We're both tired and I can just do it tomorrow while you are on the sim!" you exclaim coming closer to him to try and pull his arm away from the clothes hamper he was currently putting stuff into.
"God, why wasn't any of this done before you left?" he asks with almost a glare and you are in shock.
You and Fernando never expected anything from one another, whether it was Sex, Chores, Help... nothing was expected at all. So why was he demanding this should have been done by you before you left.
"I guess I was just busy" you explain.
"Busy more like lazy" he mutters, which was true sometimes you did have a tendency to have home days off where you didn't do any chores or shopping and would just laze about, but every needed those kind of days... right?
"Alright says Mr Crash on turn 1, maybe you should be focusing more on racing than bothering me about stupid little things and you might actually win again!" you say in the heat of the moment.
You regret it almost straight away blubbering after trying to back track what you said but it had already all come out.
"Nando, I- I didn't mean that I'm so so sorry!" you exclaim, but he just walks off going into the spare bedroom shutting and locking the door behind him.
Tears fill your eyes as what you said really settles in. You start to make dinner for the both of you with scraps from the cupboards and whatever was in-date in the fridge. It ended up just a simple pasta and home made garlic bread.
"Nando?" you knock on the door to the guest bedroom hoping he might come out for some food. When he doesn't after a few minutes you sigh going back to the kitchen. You wrap up his food with some clingfilm, leaving it out on the plate to cool down while you go round the house doing all the bits that hadn't been done while you and Fernando hadn't been here.
They were just little bits, like the clothes and drying up and putting the blankets from the sofa away in their basket, hoovering and dusting the stairs. Small little jobs that weren't taking you long.
The more you thought about it, the worse you felt. You could have just done these jobs before you left it wouldn't have been difficult and it wouldn't have taken much time. You were just very stressed over the brand deal.
You went to bed feeling incredibly guilty. You tossed and turned the whole night not being able to sleep with your husband not cuddled up in the bed with you.
You woke up the next day, going straight to the shower trying to wash away all your emotions from the previous night ready to start on a clean slate with Fernando.
However, what you didn't expect was Fernando to be waiting outside the ensuite for you.
"Buenos Dias!" you smile at him, but he just brushes past you, ignoring your morning greeting to him.
And that's how it went for the rest of the day. He would just leave the house without saying anything, coming back sweaty and with his trainer. He would refuse to eat the food and drinks you made for him, making you have to double up whatever you made for lunch as your dinner so the food didn't go to waste.
You tried at ever opportune moment to try and talk to him but he kept on ignoring you. It was stressing you out, all of this silent treatment. Was he really being this petty.
But once it got to day 3 you'd had enough. You were practically pulling your hair out at the fact the he had said nothing. You were doubting yourself wondering if you were really that horrible of a person and that Fernando no longer loved you.
You were laying in bed when he came home, sobbing into the pillow that still faintly smelt like him despite him not having been in the bed for the last few days.
Fernando was shocked to not see you, for the last few days you'd practically been running yourself raw trying to get himself to talk whilst cleaning then house. You'd even cancelled a few job opportunities that had come your way, feeling as though even more distance between the pair of you would be awful.
Now Fernando was the one to feel bad, he knew he was being petty by not talking to you, and he agreed with himself that he over-reacted when it came to your arrival home. But at the same time what you said to him, really really fucking hurt.
He knocked on the door and your sobs turned into small hiccups as you attempted to calm your breathing down.
"Yeah?" you ask, but it sounds a little chocked up to Fernando who feels just awful.
"Mi Amore!" he says as he pushes open the door a little. You fully sit up on the bed, red puffy eyes and tear stains down your cheeks making him sigh.
He didn't mean to make you this upset.
"I'm sorry Nando, I really didn't mean it I just was so confused why you were so angry with me and then you called me lazy which I know i can be but you've never said it as more than a joke and ..." you ramble until he comes forward pulling you into a sweet and short kiss.
"I'm the one that should be sorry, I didn't mean to call you lazy. I was just exhausted after an awful weekend and it didn't help that you were absent for it... i just felt useless" he explains and you nod.
"Please can we go back to talking things out? I don't like it when you freeze me out! It feels awful. I thought ... you didn't love me anymore and were looking into a divorce" you almost whimper at the thought of Fernando cutting ties with you in such a legal fashion. You genuinely thought that would break your heart.
"I'd never leave you mi amore! You are without a doubt the best thing in my life!" he exclaims pulling you into a hug and kissing the top of your head.
"I love you so so much! I'll talk to you next time okay? I promise" he sighs kissing all over your face, knowing you'd both be working overtime for the next few weeks, apologizing to one another.
Taglist:
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lexirosewrites · 9 days ago
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Some Marijuana thoughts on this fine 4/20
I think it's rlly hard to get away with having weed on u in omegaverse bc I mean tht stuff smells strong to ur average real world human nose, imagine trying to get weed passed ur parents or a cop when everyone has such a strong sense of smell they can all pick out individual notes of a person's natural musk
Because of this I theorize A!Eddie would sell out of the back his van upon occasion & since he already has a scent just left of marijuana he has managed to get away w carrying a joint or 2 on his person from time to time
The busiest time for his drug dealing is obviously the days leading up to tht most sacred of pothead holidays April 20th especially because he refuses to sell anything or meet up w anyone for a deal the day of. Because here's the thing barely anyone knows: Eddie's birthday is April 20th
Usually he'll wake up day of as late as he wants & if Wayne isn't working they have a late pancake breakfast but if Wayne is working the old man always leaves a covered plate of pancakes just for Eddie. Then from there Eddie will either spend the day w Wayne or take himself out somewhere w his hard earned drug money. If Wayne isn't working the old man will even share half a joint w Eddie at 4:20pm, otherwise Eddie will usually find one or all of the Corroded Coffin guys.
...
April 20th 1987 however finds Eddie in a farmhouse not far from the Byers old place (which is just a short drive from the Hopper-Byers newly renovated cabin) paid for courtesy of Uncle Sam. Eddie had missed his 21st because he'd been in a medically induced coma till the end of May 1986.
Vecna was dead, Max hadn't died temporarily but still lost much of her vision & mobility, the Byers family moved back, & Jim Hopper was chief of police again thanks to government goons fabricating a story abt him going undercover for them. Eddie got all charges dropped, was exonerated, & even got a formal apology from both the police department & the mayor. The feds had to do little to spin a good cover story, what w Nancy Wheeler kicking off his alibi managing to implicate the now dead Jason Carver & a fictitious Pennhurst escapee as a team of killers. She'd played into the weird devil worshipping hysteria currently gripping the country & a small(ish) towns need for the occasional tragedy.
Wayne had used up all of his sick & vacation time sitting by Eddie's bedside then helping Eddie relearn how to move his body, the alpha could tell the old beta felt guilty abt missing his 22nd birthday but Eddie reassured him he'd b fine. Sure the band was bust what w all of the guys families practically flying them all out of Hawkins after the earthquake but Eddie mentioned the classmates tht had kept him safe while he was on the run.
Wayne seemed mollified & it didn't matter Eddie had no plans to call up any sort of last minute birthday celebration.
He rlly should have known better. Especially when it came to Steve Harrington, Robin Buckley, Jonathan Byers, Argyle Garcia, & Nancy Wheeler. The other older members of the group had all wormed their way into helping Eddie in one way or another; Nancy all but threatened the principal w one of her guns to get him his diploma, Robin rambled at him when music only made his hands shake worse, Argyle shared his stash of stellar California weed, Jon was good at sitting quietly when Eddie needed company without noise, and Steve... the omega was almost always there helping & Eddie's alpha instincts were starting to get the wrong idea. Steve helped Eddie w his physical therapy when Wayne had to start going back to work, he cooked the pair of Munson bachelor's dinner more than three times a week, and he even did chores a guest in their new home shouldn't have to. Eddie wanted to croon & chirp & purr all over Steve.
Eddie Munson was falling in love with Steve Harrington & it was the easiest thing he'd ever done, easier than blinking.
Morning of April 20th 1987 dawned upon an Eddie Munson who was bolting awake from a nightmare he immediately couldn't recall beyond the feeling of unease pounding through his body. His bedside clock read 6am on the dot.
He wallowed for a moment before the need to use the bathroom was unavoidable, he grabbed his cane (he thought he'd need the wheelchair or the walker everyday, but nope only needed for bad days) & made his way to the bathroom at the end of the short hallway only to hear the sounds of someone in the kitchen. Then talking voices so multiple someone were in his kitchen. A few laughs ring out & just like tht Eddie knew who was in his house.
He made his way into archway to the kitchen to find Steve cooking pancakes so perfect they belonged in a diner, B!Robin was apparently designated the chocolate chip sprinkling squire, B!Jonathan was using a new polaroid camera Steve had gotten him for Christmas to document the breakfast brigade, & A!Nancy was at the kitchen table with A!Argyle rolling what looked like number 8 in a small but quickly growing line up of joints. There seemed to be some sort of system tht organized the weed.
The excited chirp Nancy let out when she was the first to notice Eddie got everyone's attention & Jonathan snapped a polaroid of him leaning against the archway gobsmacked.
Then the air was full of explanations of how exactly the entire young adults crew had gotten to Hawkins; Argyle & Jon had driven from San Francisco with bags of California weed hidden within the van, Nancy had driven from Boston since before the sun came up, Robin & Steve lived down the road in a little yellow & blue house they jointly bought w hard earned hush money. Throughout all of the tales was a common thread: Steve had known Eddie was going to likely b alone all day on his 22nd birthday & had contacted the remaining 3 young adults.
Eddie was no longer falling, he was fully in love with Steve Harrington.
(Part 1 of 2?)
Eddie’s bday being on 4/20 is both hilarious and so sad??😭
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e-dubbc11 · 2 months ago
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You Don’t Know Me
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Photos are not mine. They are courtesy of Pinterest/Google.
Pairing: Billy Russo x F! Reader
Warnings: Angst, Mentions of Billy’s abandonment, fluff, smooches
Word Count: 2.5K-ish
Summary: You and Billy are childhood friends, grew up together in the group home until he joined the Marines. After you lost touch, you see him years later but he didn’t see you…or so you thought.
A/N: I found the prompts from @prompts-in-a-barrel “You don’t know me. I’m not the same person anymore.” “That’s ok. I’ll get to know you again.”
As always, thank you for reading!  I appreciate it so much and comments, reblogs are welcome and encouraged. Don’t be shy to tell me your favorite part. 💕💕 💕
There he was, right in front of you getting coffee.
Dressed in a designer suit and no longer wearing those old second hand t-shirts and sneakers with holes in them, you recognized his onyx colored eyes and that million-dollar smile anywhere.
It had been so long since you had seen him last, the cutest boy in the group home or more accurately the cutest boy you had ever seen had finally returned home safely from his deployments with the Marines and from the look of things, he looked like he was doing well.
It brought back the memory of when you first met.
**********
Your first night in the Ray of Hope group home was absolutely terrifying. Not only were you trying to physically recover from the car accident, you also were still trying to wrap your head around your parents being gone.
All of six years old, you were alone in a strange place with a broken arm when a cute older boy approached you as you sat on your bed, tightly clutching the stuffed frog your mother had given you. He flashed you a kind smile, looked down at the frog in your arms and asked “Can I sign your cast…Lily Pad?” Wiping the tears out of your eyes, you nodded, and he wrote his name in black marker across the top…Billy Russo.
Billy Russo was two years older than you and the first friend you made when you arrived. He showed you around, pointed out the drawer in the kitchen where the cook kept her candy stash, and asked if you wanted to sit with him at breakfast the next morning which made you smile.
You accepted his invitation and became fast friends. Billy let you follow him around whenever you wanted. You only did it when you were feeling extra lonely or extra sad and that’s when he would take the time to play board games with you or teach you how to play cards to distract you. He was like the big brother you never had but always wanted.
As long as Billy was nearby, your days were just a little bit easier.
As you got older, he protected you from bullies and from the girls who wanted Billy to be their boyfriend but he had no interest in. They were always harassing and teasing you but if Billy found out about it, no matter who it was, they would get a serious talking to.
If he looked at you with his jaw clenched and hell burning behind those doll-like eyes, your best option would be to run like hell. Billy fiercely protected you from anyone he deemed a threat and when he was 11 and you were 9, your only wish was that you could have protected him from his bully the same way he protected you from yours.
Seeing that cast on his arm reminded you of how kind he was to you when your arm was broken and you were the only one who he wanted to sign his cast.
Billy stayed in his room a lot after that happened. He read books, took naps, and sometimes you would catch him just staring at the ceiling. He was angry, ashamed, and said he never wanted to feel that way again so he was going to join the Marines as soon as he was old enough.
You would get little rewards for doing chores around the group home, every kid did, like a small cheap toy or a super bouncy ball…stuff like that. After Billy’s “accident,” you were putting dishes away and after you were done, it was time to pick your prize.
Digging through the large bucket of small toys, you found the only green toy soldier in the entire bucket. Holding it in between your fingers, you looked down at it and your lips curled into a wide smile because you knew who you wanted to give it to.
As he slept, you tiptoed into Billy’s room and left the toy soldier on the edge of his desk, on top of his books. He definitely couldn’t miss it.
Later on at dinner, Billy sat down next to you.
“Did you leave this for me, y/n?” Asked Billy, as he unfolded his hand, revealing the little green soldier inside.
With a mouthful of meatloaf, you nodded and gave him a closed mouth smile.
“Mmmm hmmm.” You replied.
After you swallowed your food, you added, “It’s not much but I thought you might like it. Maybe you can bring it with you when you go to the Marines.”
The only other person that had been allowed this close to Billy was his mother and she had only thought of what was best for herself. She never put him first or thought of him at all, really. You had the chance to pick out a little toy for yourself and instead chose to get a gift for someone else. A completely selfless act and all because you thought Billy might like it.
And he did. No one had ever done anything like that for him before.
“Thank you, Lily Pad.” He said with a warm smile and a quick hug.
You loved Billy’s nickname for you. And ever since that first night, you were “Lily Pad” to him and no one else was allowed to call you that either which made you feel special.
The two of you were hardly ever apart after that day…until the day he left.
As soon as he turned 18, Billy enlisted just like he said he would and you had to come to the realization that you were going to be alone at Ray of Hope until it was your turn to leave.
The thought of waking up every day and Billy not being there, shattered your heart and it felt like there was no way you would ever feel whole until you could see him again.
The cutest, sweetest boy you had ever met was leaving for who knows how long and it may be the last time you ever see him.
Watching Billy pack the few possessions he had, you felt a growing tightness in your chest like your heart was in a vice, being squeezed until you couldn’t breathe anymore. But you didn’t want him to see you cry like he had when you met. You couldn’t let the last time he would lay eyes on you be exactly like the first time so you tried your hardest to not let those tears fall.
He tried to make the situation a little less tense.
“You gonna miss me, Lily Pad?” He asked with that million-dollar smile and a wink.
With your arms folded protectively across your chest and leaning against the doorframe, you replied, shaking your head, “No…eh, well maybe a little.”
You cracked a smile.
Billy stopped packing and slowly walked over to you. He was wearing an old gray t-shirt and jeans and not until now, had you realized how incredibly handsome Billy was growing up to be. He had always been just the cute, nice big brother you had grown up with and now he was leaving and you didn’t want him to.
“Just a little?” Asked Billy. His voice was nothing short of mesmerizing.
Choking on your words, you replied, “Well…maybe more than a little.”
Billy propped himself up on his elbow, against the doorway as he gazed down at you. His eyes, like two pools of dark chocolate, were also smiling. You were trying to take in as much of him as possible, the way he looked, the way he smelled, and the way his voice sounded. You didn’t want to forget anything about him.
“I thought that might be the answer.” Said Billy with a slight chuckle. “I gotta go soon soooo gimme a hug, ok?”
As you wrapped your arms around his slender torso, you could hear his heart beating rapidly against his chest. It thumped loudly against your ear while you shut your eyes and remembered all the good times you had with him, making the best of both of your situations, and being the one person you could count on for anything you needed inside this awful place.
Your body started to shake uncontrollably because not only is he leaving but he’s leaving to go to war and he could get hurt or even be killed. You decided you wanted one last thing from him before he left, possibly for good.
With your head resting against his chest, you asked, “Billy? Will you do one last thing for me before you go?”
His long fingers danced up and down your spine as he replied, “Sure, y/n. What do ya need?”
Nervously, you asked him, “I-I’ve never b-been kissed before so I-I was w-wondering i-if you would…be m-my first?”
Billy was taken aback at first.
The two of you were best friends, never anything more and he always looked at you the same way you looked at him, like a sibling, like family, but in that moment the look in his eyes showed you something different like he knew this could be the last time you would ever see each other.
Unsteady on your feet, you felt your knees shaking, your heart racing and a rush of warmth across your face as Billy tilted your chin up so you were looking up into his endless brown eyes that were the color of freshly turned soil.
He inched closer to your face until you both were sharing the same air. He smelled clean like soap and sweet like candy as he cupped your cheeks and delicately pressed his lips to yours.
It was even better than you thought it would be as his mouth slanted over yours and your fingers slid through his raven colored hair. His tongue slipped into your mouth to tangle with yours as butterflies danced inside your stomach.
Clearly, he had done this before but that didn’t matter. He was kissing you now and you were loving every second of it.
As you gasped against his mouth, he asked, “Is this what you had in mind, y/n?” Before kissing you again.
“Y-yes, Billy.” You replied, breathlessly.
“You gonna miss me, NOW?” Asked Billy as a slight smirk stretched across his lips.
You pulled away slightly so you could look into his eyes again and nodded. Your eyes shined with unshed tears as you snaked your arms around Billy’s neck, pulled him in close and gently touched your forehead to his.
In barely more than a whisper, you replied, “So much. You’re my best friend, Billy.”
Billy reached into his pocket, pulled something out, and then opened his hand. It was the little toy soldier that you had given him when you were children.
“And you’re mine, my little Lily Pad.” He said. “I’ll write to you and I will be back, I promise.”
Before you could answer, a voice shouted from down the hallway, “Time to go, Russo!”
“Don’t make promises you can’t keep, Billy.” You said, as your tears started to streak down your cheeks.
He tossed his bag over his shoulder, put the toy soldier back in his pocket, and retorted, “Who says I ain’t keepin’ ‘em?”
Billy winked, kissed you on the forehead, and started to walk down the hallway. He turned around to look at you one last time, you waved, and that was the last time you saw him…until today.
He wrote letters which you had saved. You saved them all but after he was deployed overseas, the letters came less frequent and eventually they stopped coming at all. You told yourself it was war time and he must have had way more important things to worry about than sending letters to you but it didn’t make you miss him any less.
After the barista handed him his coffee, Billy turned and headed for the door. You tried to speak and talk over the heads in front of you but your voice got caught in your throat and there was no sound.
He was gone and out of your life once again.
After grabbing your coffee, you walked out of the busy coffee shop, took a sip, and spaced out a little as you started to walk down the street.
A familiar silvery voice stopped you dead in your tracks and in the middle of a crowded city sidewalk.
“Lily Pad?” Asked Billy.
You didn’t imagine it. It was actually him.
He was still the cutest boy you had ever seen, except now he was more mature, handsome, and grown up.
The crowd outside the coffee shop seemed to disperse all at once, allowing you and Billy to walk toward one another without walking into a sea of people.
“Billy?” You answered.
He just smiled and pulled you in close for a hug.
You sat outside of that coffee shop for hours, telling each other all about your lives after the Ray of Hope group home.
Not wanting it to end, you hung on his every word as he relayed stories about his trips overseas, his fellow Marines, and what he was doing now.
Billy was the CEO of his company, Anvil and you couldn’t be prouder of him. He finally had everything he had ever wanted.
“Well, you must be VERY late for work, y/n. I’m sorry.” Said Billy.
You shrugged and replied, “I texted my boss a little while ago and told him I wasn’t gonna make it today.”
“You little sneak.” Billy said with a chuckle.
With a hitch in your voice, you finally worked up the courage to ask him, “So, what happened, Billy? One minute I’m getting letters every week, then it’s every other week, and then once a month. Finally, I just gave up hope and stopped waiting. I knew you weren’t dead because I would have been contacted. Was it something I said in one of my letters? Am I a bad kisser? I deserve to know.”
Billy looked down at the two coffee cups that were now empty and replied, “No, it’s nothing like that. It has nothing to do with you. And actually, you’re a great kisser.”
You weren’t sure if you believed him and had no doubt in your mind that Billy had been through and seen a lot from his time in the service.
“Then tell me, Billy, please.” You pleaded. “Who understands you better than I do?”
Billy’s eyes darkened, his nostrils flared, and through clenched teeth, he replied, “You don’t know me. I’m not the same person anymore.”
He was different but not necessarily different in a bad way. Of course you knew that war changed people. How could it not? But deep down, you knew the man in front of you was still the same young boy from all those years ago.
The sweet boy who befriended you right after you lost your parents, the boy who taught you how to play cards, who let you tag along when you felt extra lonely, who made it his mission to fiercely protect you from bullies, old and young, and the only boy…you have ever been in love with.
You knew he was still in there, he was still your best friend, and you didn’t want to give up on him.
Very softly, you just smiled, gently touched his hand and replied, “That’s ok. I’ll get to know you again.”
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lifewithdavefarts · 10 months ago
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DaveFarts - Episode 30 “Gross The Line” [Episode List] After Dave rips a couple of his well-known huge farts on his face, Tim finds the guts to ask his gassy bro something...
POV: Tim
Gross The Line
This Friday night we had no plans (once you’re past 30, this is usually considered a win).
Both me and Dave, after a tough week of work, decided to stay at home and apparently our buds had the same idea as no one wanted to do anything. To be completely honest, Dave did have something resembling a plan for tonight: Dana, his girlfriend, was coming here for the weekend, nothing new by a long shot, but Dave still wanted to give our small house what passes for a “cleaning session”.
To be fair, both me and Dave know how to manage this sort of stuff, with Dave actually being much more organised than he seems. 
Each day of this past week, we decided to do our chores after we were done working.
Speaking of which, since I worked from home, I was simply wearing a t-shirt and sweatpants, while my roommate sported his usual dark brown hoodie and a pair of dark blue, almost grey, loose sagging jeans.
After doing the living room, the kitchen and the bathroom (on different days, nonetheless), we’re now cleaning his bedroom: we made the (king-sized) bed, sorted Dave’s wardrobe a bit, all that kind of stuff we had to do regardless of our guests anyway (and Dana was very chill anyway). 
We kind of lost rack of time, but given we started right after we finished working, it was around 6:30 PM, late-ish afternoon basically.
“We still got plenty of time.” I remarked, while folding a t-shirt.
“Yep.” Dave replied. “We could make a mess and still have time to clean up, if you know what I mean.” he winked at me, glancing at his king-sized bed.
“Well, you are pretty fast.” I made fun of him.
His response was a pair of socks harmlessly hitting my face.
“I see you’re done with those.” I sarcastically said as I picked them up.
“Yeah, the wardrobe’s pretty much done, thanks.” he said, as I handed the last t-shirt to him.
Honestly, we did a pretty good job. This wasn’t the first time we did this kind of stuff at all, but I was impressed by how fast we got things done this time.
“Let’s make this last.” I stated, admiring how clean the room was.
Dave stood next to me, arms crossed. “Yep. It smells good, even!”
“Yes it doe- I can’t believe I fell for it.”
My friend just casually ripped a monstrously loud 3 second fart, the sound easily silencing my voice. He winked at me again, with a smug smile, knowing very well that, well, I appreciated.
“Please don’t ruin everything we’ve done.” I jokingly begged him.
“Hey!” he stated, faking an assertive tone. “My bedroom, my rules.”
A moment of silence, then I heard him sniffing the air around him.
“But yeah…” he admitted, trying not to laugh. “That was terrible.”
The stench reached both of our nostrils and, believe it or not, it was bad. Yes, I have a fart kink, but some things can be too much to handle even for me, and to be honest I’m here more for the amazing loud sounds.
Dave opened the window just a bit so the bedroom won’t stink like rotten meat when Dana steps in later.
“Unless your ass has more things to say, that should be enough.” I said, looking at him and the window.
My bro shook his head in response and laughed a bit.
“Dude if you want to hear more farts you can just ask for it ya know.” He casually said as if it was the most normal thing in the world. “You know I don’t care.” he then added, as he walked past me to check his phone on the bed, again so casually it almost confused me. Was he being sarcastic or not?
A moment of silence, as I needed a moment to understand what he meant.
Again, I do have a fart kink but… I wasn’t asking for anything. Hell, even though it’s been more than a year since he found out and accepted me, I never ever even had the guts to properly ask him for, well, a “fart session”, because at this point that’s what often happens between us. We’d go days or even weeks without face-farting (even though I’d hear him farting A LOT, either to tease me or just randomly like bros do), then Dave would just straight-up “bully” me by being the most amazing and open-minded straight gassy bro in the world. 
A blessing and a curse at the same time.
“I wasn’t asking for anything.” I stated.
Dave snorted and smiled, eyes glued on the phone. “Yeah… sure.”
I admit I felt a bit… am I in the position to say ‘offended’? 
I… I don’t want him to think that he’s my bro because of, well, this kinky stuff. 
I stepped closer to him. “Again: I wasn’t asking.”
“Dude.” he looked up to me. “It’s fine. We’re good.” he laughed.
A few moments of silence, interrupted by my friend’s tapping on his phone. I didn’t like this atmosphere. Was I being an asshole? Dave was just being… so casually open-minded about my gross kink and that’s how I thank him? By thinking ill of him?
He doesn’t care… and yet some times I almost wish that he’d did.
Maybe I just like drama?
I decided to break the tension (which wasn’t even there, but anxiety took me over quickly).
“Well… what if I was asking… not that I was…” I tried to say.
Dave’s only response was just turning to me again, listening with a bored, yet amused-ish look on his face.
“I’d never ask you.” I finally said, after stuttering a bit more.
My friend shook his head again, amused by my response.
“Okay… thanks for sharing. Very interesting.” he said, sarcastically.
I took a deep breath. “I’d never ask because...”
Dave narrowed his eyes and interrupted me with the muffled sound of another loud fart, another quick thunder, lasting “only” 5 seconds. Despite having his denim, sagging ass glued to the bed, the roar could still be heard clearly. At least the stench was trapped there… for the most part.
“Good one.” I tried to joke. Then went back to being a stuttering idiot. “I’d never ask because…”
My friend interrupted me again, this time by standing up and stepping towards me, looking annoyed but still weirdly amused.
“Yes yes because you don’t want me to think that we’re bros only because you’re a kinky bastard and I just happen to be the fart king, right? Is this what you’re trying to say? Is that correct?”
I just remained silent and took a deep breath… inhaling some of the stench that used to be trapped under Dave’s ass.
“Bro I told you a million times that I don’t care.” he laughed. “I do appreciate that you don’t ask.” he admitted “But… that won’t stop me from destroying your face.” 
That… that didn’t go into the direction I thought it would.
“Sorry.” I simply said.
Dave just laughed at how… needlessly stupid I was being.
“Alright. Looks like we’re gonna make a mess after all.” 
He stared at me with a smirk. He then quickly grabbed my arms and tripped me over so I could fell on his bed.
“Bro, it’s fine, sorry I sai-“ I tried to say, actually trying not to laugh.
“Hey, my bedroom, my rules.” he remarked, stepping on the bed, easily towering over me.
He took a few steps and after I ended up with my head between his feet, he made sure to align his sagging ass with my face, so he could squat down and just use my nose as a pillow to rest his ass on.
The denim was rough and beautiful to look at, the seams and textures of his jeans tickling my face. I took a deep whiff and I could smell the stench of his previous farts. Since he was sagging, my nose also brushed against his red sweaty underwear, the only thing between my nose and his powerful anus.
After a few seconds of silence, he stopped moving and ripped a huge blast, up close and personal, down my throat. Damn, today his ass likes being louder than usual, with the blast almost making me go deaf. It was probably as loud as the previous ones, but since I was with my nose planted into the source of that fart this time, it felt way louder. 
It certainly was longer though, this one lasting about 9 seconds before stopping.
He didn’t move for a few seconds, the only reason being to give me time to, well, properly enjoy the stench, which again I did, but the sounds of Dave’s farts was the main event for me every time he blasted me. I’ll never get used to it, to all of this, to his blasts, to him being so casual and open-minded about my kink.
After a few seconds, he leaned back and spread his legs a bit, still having his ass planted on my face. He did that so he could stare down at me, at the victim of his flatulence, at what remained of my sweaty face.
He was laughing, still sporting that evil smirk.
“I knew you weren’t asking by the way.” he said, and the bastard winked at me one more time.
Before I could say something in return, most likely an insult, my head shook as he ripped yet another blast. He closed his eyes as he kept pushing, as he let his ass roar all over my face; and the fact that I could see him do that, that I could stare right into his eyes as he farted, all while my nostrils were burning, further hardened by boner. 
He sighed in relief and looked down to me one more ime after the 7 seconds blast ended. He then leaned back a bit more, now fully lying on his bed, legs up, with my face still in front of his sagging denim. 
Oddly enough, we remained like that for a couple of dozens of seconds, until my straight bro talked to me. I couldn’t see his face this time: I was too startled to talk, to process how how that was, and my eyes were glued on that smelly “wall” of sagging jeans in front of me, a “wall” that hid my friend’s face from my point of view.
“You alive, bro?” he jokingly asked.
“Sadly, yes.” my deadpan answer.
Dave laughed at my response.
“No worries, I’m brewing a big one that’s gonna kill ya for good.” 
The friendliest, yet hottest threat I ever received.
“Ready?” he then asked.
How did such a simple word become so hot to me is a mystery; but being something that Dave would often say before unleashing some of the loudest, most powerful farts I ever heard certainly didn’t help.
In hindsight, that’s not a mystery at all…
Either way, my answer to his question was another question, and I mustered all the courage I had to actually speak.
“Dave… can I ask you something?” Though it was my boner doing the talk now I’m afraid.
“Sure.” he quickly responded, surprisingly enough.
A few moments of silence, my heart racing fast. I took deep breaths, accidentally inhaling more of the polluted air around me. I was nervous, I was sweating.
“Well, if you have nothing to say, I’m just gonna let my ass speak then.” another hot threat from my bro.
“Okay wait.” I finally said. 
I still couldn’t see my friend’s face as I was resting my head in front of his ass, which covered most most of my view.
“For your next… fart…” I managed to say.
“Yes…?” he said, in a very amusing formal tone of voice.
 “Can you…” I took a deep breath. “Can you, like…”
Dave laughed at me stuttering like an idiot, but I kept going.
“Can you hold my head into your ass?”
First response: silence.
Moments of silence, moments that to me lasted hours.
I did it, I crossed the line. 
I fucked up.
I betrayed my straight bro’s trust by going too far.
He’s Dave, a straight, open-minded friend that accepted my kink and yet I couldn’t help but let my thirst take the wheel, ruining everything.
It doesn’t help that he did hold my head still into his ass as he face-farted me other times in the past, but downright asking him to do it… I’m already regretting it.
That’s too gross.
Then, I felt it.
I just felt it.
I felt his left hand grabbing my head; he raised his left leg and leaned a bit, so he could properly fulfil my request. With a firm grasp, he planted my defenceless, sweaty face straight up into his sagging, smelly denim ass, holding me still, making sure I couldn’t move.
“Wow. You are a kinky bastard after all.” He said. “Just like I’m the fart king” he snickered.
I tried to speak, but talking while your moth is constantly “kissing” your gassy friend’s ass is a bit difficult, yet Dave kind of understood what I was trying to say. He knows me, after all.
“Bro…” He pushed my head even more, my nose almost going through the red fabric of his underwear and right between his asscheeks. “The only thing you should be afraid of is getting exactly what you wish for.”
Another one of those hot threats. Is he doing that on purpose? 
A moment of silence followed… the silence before the storm.
“Ready?”
That was a rhetorical question.
The earthquake that struck my face was as loud as it was powerful. My friend’s ass roared straight into my nostrils and mouth, with Dave making sure my face was glued to his powerful anus, right where it belonged (not that I wanted to move anyway).
The deep, chainsaw-like noise shook the the whole bedroom, and for a moment I thought of the stench that basically ruined all of our hard work of cleaning things up, but my bro cared even less than me about that, as his ass kept screaming at my face, my nose gently brushing between his denim and his underwear. 
My nostrils were burning, my eyes got wet.
On paper, this was nothing new for me: Dave farts in my face very often, even holding my head still like he’s doing now. However… the fact that he did it because I found the guts to ask for it made pre-cum erupt from the tip of my cock (I guess I’m the fast one then) which at this point I assume my bro knows about.
Even though I had my entire face glued to his denim ass, I still managed to get a good look of it and as my face kept getting blasted, I once again realized how lucky I was to have a friend like him. 
Dave had it all: he’s smart, he’s tall, good-looking, funny and, as he put it a few moments ago, he casually happens to be the fart king, and the fact that I have the… I’d say the privilege to get constantly face-farted by him, to admire his ass this up close and personal, was more than I could’ve ever hoped for.
That good-looking guy you saw across the street? Well, he’s actually my bro… and he’s farting in my face.
12 seconds and the fart finally started to lose some of its power. He could rip longer farts than this, natural and/or on command (this time it was all natural, like 99% of the times), which was already impressively long, but given the context this was probably the hottest one he ever ripped all over my face.
After he was done, he simply let me go, or rather, let my head fall as I was completely stunned by what just hit me. I admired that sagging denim ass in front of me a bit more, still engulfed by an invisible cloud of gas.
“Anything else you wanna ask?” he joked, teasing me on purpose.
“Maybe I’ll just ask you to stop.” I played along, though I was being serious.
“Good choice” Dave said, a quick, loud 2-seconds fart following his response.
I managed to stand up, fighting the urge to plant my face into his ass again to properly enjoy that last rip. 
I was feeling all dizzy for all the gas and, well, the massive boner I had.
Dave remained on the bed, sitting, as if nothing gross and kinky happened, reaching for his phone again to check some messages.
The bedroom, no gentle way to put this, smelt like ass because of my friend’s massive farts.
“Welp, much like you, Dana’s coming.” Dave casually commented, eyes on his phone.
“You do realize that this room smells like ass, right?” I told him, ignoring the insult.
“Hey. Not my fault. You asked for it, not me.” he said, with a smirk.
Once again, he proved to me that he just doesn’t care. 
I’m gross and disgusting and while my bro is very aware of the kink… the idea of torturing me is just weirdly amusing to him.
I don’t know why, but that’s how it works.
His bedroom, his rules after all.
The End
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petew21-blog · 1 year ago
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Family fun
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"Hi, I'm Simon and I'm an alcoholic." Haha. I'm just kidding. I'm just a normal nineteen year old kid still living with his widowed father and his three brothers. Today I was suppose to go on a trip with my 4 friends - Michael, Nathan, Daniel and Connor. I was ready to leave, but suddenly my - always happy and kind dad - started screaming about me not doing enough for our family, not doing chores and he banned me to go on the trip. I texted my friends, but only Connor replied:"Better luck next time. C ya". Then my dad even took my phone from me. I have no idea what I have done, but I didn't question him right now. Maybe later when he cools off.
My brother Alex came downstairs and offered me to go with him to the store. He acted different. I can't tell why, but he kept teasing me, which he usually doesn't. He is the quiet one.
We got into the store. I went to get some vegetable and when I got back to him. He was standing there completely naked
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"What the hell are you doing?"
"Hurry. Give my some clothes!!! I lost them!"
"How can you just loose your clothes you're wearing?!?"
"Doesn't matter. Give me something."
I gave him my jeans, my shirt, leaving me only with my socks, sweatshirt in my hand and my boxers. He put on the rest and then laughed as he took the sweatshirt from my hands and ran away.
I was standing in a storeonly in my underwear. How embarassing. Alex was standing outside of the store with a phone in his hand already recording and laughing
"What the hell is wrong with you today?"
"Haha. Nothing. Just... enjoying life."
We returned back home. Alex went to show my other two brothers how he humiliated me. I went upstairs to find my father in my bathroom completely naked. He held my phone in his hands and tried to take a nude.
"DAD! What are you doing?!"
He wasn't even shocked and kept trying to get a good photo.
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"Oh hey, I was going through your phone and I found this Grindr app where most of the profiles had pictures like this. I thought that maybe it is a dating website and I might have a chance. Maybe I'll find someone there."
THIS CAN'T BE HAPPENING
"Dad, please. Go away. And don't install that app. I'll explain that to you later."
He checked himself out again and then winked at me
"Don't act like this isn't the dick that made you. You owe me for that, you know"
Has everyone gone crazy this morning or what the fuck is happening?
I went downstairs, ready for some more weird stuff. But fortunately my two brothers - Joe and Kyle fought. Thank god. The most normal thing in our family that could be happening right now. I sat outside on the porch just briefly watching them fight.
But suddenly the fight turned into this
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They made out passionately as many couples in love do. But THEY ARE MY BROTHERS!!!
"STOP! SOMEBODY EXPLAIN TO ME WHAT THE HELL IS GOING ON!!!"
All four of the stared at each other back and forth. My dad was the first one who started laughing, then the rest did too.
"What's so funny? Have you all lost your mind?"
"Oh come ooooon. It's just a prank, BRO" said my father
"Besides, would your brother that you secretly have a crush on let you do this?" Alex came to me and placed my hand on his abs, just going up and down and finally going down.
"How... Connor?"
"BINGO! You figured it out. We swapped bodies with everyone in your family just to mess with you. We discovered we could do that last night when we arrived at the campsite, but we decided to surprise you. So, what do you think?"
"Wait. What about my dad and my brothers? Where are they?"
"In the campsite hopefully. But they keep calling your phone, so that's why we took it from you. Seems like we might have some explaining to do. So, until we give these bodies back and might never use them again?" All four of them smiled.
I couldn't believe how perverted my freinds are. And I couldn't believe I didn't really protest.
A story from the inbox: Hello! I love your stories😍😍😍 can u write a story about some friends are doing prank by body swapping with his male family members?
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ssoulphrase · 8 months ago
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00. The Curiosity of Haku Shota
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Pairing: alien!soul x fem!reader
Genre: Slice of life, fluff
Warnings: mentions of bugs (´-`)
Word Count: 2,159
👾 - I decided to write a small piece as a filler for the actual fic I'm writing with this concept. I realized it was gonna take me longer than I wanted, so l'm writing this to get me motivated T^T I wanted my debut to be the longer fic but oh well :) This can be read as a stand alone as it doesn't add much to the main plot :) The main fic wil be linked once it's finished!
Sorry in advance if there's any mistakes,l wrote this kinda fast ( ´~`)
⋆.˚𖦹⋆✮⋆.˚
💿 - Aya Hirano, Super Driver !!
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“Y/n! Come on! Wake up! Don’t waste your summer lying around all day! I wanna do stuff!!”
Ugh…
It’s been a couple of months since Soul crashed into your apartment, him first arriving at the time when you were still in classes. He’s become accustomed to your way of life quickly, seamlessly blending into what is human society. However, it's now summer, and he’s been begging every day to do something new, saying that it’s all for his ‘research.’ You laid on your carpeted floor, limbs sprawled out in a starfish shape as the cheap fan you bought at a market once was blasting at full speed, squeaking as it does its turns.
“What is it that you want to do Soul…?” The grogginess in your voice made it evident that you had no intention of getting up at any moment. However, Soul continued on, ignoring your groggy state.
“I want to go on a bike ride! Oh! And have a picnic! And draw with chalk! And maybe go star gazing at night!”
“That’s quite the list you’ve got there…” Although these were pretty mundane things to you, you couldn’t help but entertain Soul and his shenanigans, his excitement lifting a small smile upon your lips.
“I know! I thought about it all last night! It's stuff I've heard humans do during their free time.” A proud grin made itself onto his lips.
“Okay,” you chuckled fondly, “come help me make some sandwiches then.” It was just like Soul to drag you out of your apartment to do something. Just yesterday, the two of you had gone bug catching, Soul having the brilliant idea to make it a contest to see who could catch the most. It was no surprise to see that he had caught more than you by the end of it, boasting about having done his research on the most efficient way humans catch bugs. Of course, you didn’t let him keep any of the bugs he caught as you didn’t want any crawling around in your apartment. He dejectedly let the bugs go, seeing them fly out into the horizon. You couldn’t lie though, the scenery was beautiful (minus the flapping of the bugs…), the sun was starting to set just beyond the horizon and if it wasn’t for Soul, you would have spent this summer alone in your apartment.
“You, know they might return the favor one day, since you were so kind to let them go.” You glanced to your side, Soul was staring at the sunset in awe as all the little bugs he caught flew away.
“Return the favor?” He ripped his eyes from the sight in front of him to look at you in confusion. You couldn’t help but admire how ethereal he looked under the sun’s rays, his sun kissed skin and deep brown eyes reflected the sun’s true colors as the bit of breeze that picked up swept his hair, his eyebrows furrowed deeply.
“C’mon,” you chuckled, “Let’s go back home.”
Cut back to now, you lazily got up off your carpeted floor, already missing the fan’s cool breeze against your face
“What type of sandwiches are we making??” Soul excitedly followed behind you as you slowly made your way into your cramped kitchen.
“I guess whatever we find in the fridge…” Luckily, you did have the correct ingredients to make sandwiches, having bought the stuff a couple of weeks ago. You spent the next thirty minutes teaching Soul how to make a simple ham and cheese sandwich, not because of his lack of experience but because of your lack of ingredients (which he didn’t seem to mind), his excitement over making sandwiches made the chore a bit more bearable.
⋆⭒˚.⋆🪐 ⋆⭒˚.⋆
“C’mon! Hurry up! I wanna get to the park already!”
“I’m coming…” Soul had already reached the end of the steps, waiting beside your baby blue bike that you had gotten for your birthday. He had already placed the basket of food onto the bike’s built in basket, hands on his hips as he waited for you to ascend the stairs.
“You know, we’re gonna have to pass by the store to get the chalk you wanted, cuz I certainly don’t have any…” You finally reached the end of the stairs, Soul’s frown turning into a smile.
“I’ve got that settled already!”
There’s that proud smile again…
“What? How?”
“Your neighbor! I had mentioned it a while ago to her while you were out shopping, and she let me borrow some as long as we bring them back!” Soul boasted, you could only let out a sigh in response.
“So you had this all planned, huh? C’mon, get on the back of the bike.” Soul eagerly made his way on the back of your bike, holding onto your waist for security. The bike ride to the park was surprisingly peaceful. You half expected Soul to ask you about every little thing he saw on the way. Instead, he sat quietly behind you, squeezing you once in a while to hold on when the tighter turns came.
Soul honestly just liked being in your presence. He knew that asking you many questions tired you out, having once realizing that when your tone of voice turned into something less friendly by what seemed like his 500th question that day. Soul once again hugged you tighter, feeling only grateful for all you’ve done for him since he got there, a feeling he doesn’t experience often. Sure, he’s always experienced excitement ever since he arrived on Earth, especially when you comply to his wishes, however, sometimes he feels this inexplicable feeling in his chest whenever he’s close to you, almost as if he’s out of breath. He wonders if you’ve ever felt that before.
He might have to do some research on that later.
“Soul, we’re here.” Your voice broke through his thoughts as he eagerly jumped off your bike as you went to park it. While he was running off to who knows where, you looked for a good place under the shade to set the quilted picnic blanket you brought.
“Y/n! Come! What’s that vehicle over there???” You looked to what seemed to be an ice cream truck, you knew what he was going to ask once you told him, however, a good ice cream cone would be wonderful in this hot weather.
“It’s a truck that sells ice cream. You want some?” You weren’t surprised when he eagerly nodded his head yes, running over to stand behind all the other children who were begging their parents to get them ice cream.
“Do you know what flavor you want?” Once you caught up to him, you looked over the poster plastered onto the side of the truck, skimming through all the flavors they had.
“I’ll try what you have, I’m not particularly interested in any one of them. If I could, I'd try them all…”
Of course you would…
“Hmm, should we try the strawberry then?”
“Sure!”
The two of you had what seemed to be a feast for the both of you as you gobbled up every piece of food you had brought plus the ice cream, Soul seeming to be the one enjoying it the most. After the meal however, Soul ran off to chase some bugs again while you stayed seated in your spot on the blanket under the shade, having had enough of the ‘creepy crawlies’ since your small excursion the day before. Without noticing, an affectionate gaze landed upon your features as you looked over Soul who was carefully examining the grass beneath the (already) dirty sneakers you let him borrow. You couldn’t help but build a sense of endearment towards the alien that appeared in your apartment unannounced. It was only natural, right? You had spent several months together by now, Soul accompanying you through almost everything. You’d feel a little strange if he wasn’t there by your side bugging you about every ‘cool’ thing he saw. You wondered how you’d feel once his research period was over and he’d have to go back home.
“Y/n!”
There he goes calling my name again…
“Yes Soul?”
“Let’s go draw with the chalk!” He was already running off again, expecting you to be able to catch up to his speed. He led you towards the pavement pathway where previous chalk drawings were, some already being washed out due to age.
“What are you planning to draw?” Soul handed you a few chalk pieces before going a few squares away from you.
“It’s a secret!” You playfully rolled your eyes at his childlike nature, his nose scrunched as he turned away to scribble. You drifted your sight to the empty pavement square beneath you, sighing.
Guess I’ve gotta draw something…
Your artistic skills weren’t the best per se, but you couldn’t help but feel a little proud of the cute but childlike drawing made out of the pastel chalk colors Soul had handed you. You were so engaged in your drawing, however, that you didn’t see or hear Soul walking behind you.
“That’s your drawing?” Soul’s soft but snarky voice came from behind you, eliciting another eye roll from you.
“Oh, come on! Show me yours then!” You stomped your way to his square on the pavement, a series of squiggles and lines as well as intricate shapes were drawn with the chalk.
“Uh, what’s that?”
“It’s the writing system we use in space! I was hoping that if I write it big enough, my friends and family up there will be able to see it!” He wore that proud grin once more, showing off his penmanship in his language.
“Oh! What does it say then?” You stepped closer to examine his work, intrigued by the intricate work that went into the writing.
“Um, just letting them know that I’m doing okay,” his right hand went to rub his chin in thought, “I wonder if I wrote it big enough though…”
“I’m sure they’ll see it,” you reassured him, “They’ll be happy to hear that you’re doing well.” You tried giving him a reassuring smile to ease the worry that was present on his face, his eyebrows furrowed deep in thought.
“You really think so? Okay then!” In the blink of an eye, his worrisome expression changed to his usual carefree smile that he carries.
That was fast…
“Y/n! Let’s go draw something together over there!” And once again, Soul was dragging you to another place to draw. You spent the rest of the afternoon drawing on the pavement with Soul, him claiming that this has to be the ‘best drawing to ever exist,’ meaning that he wanted to put in the extra time to perfect it as much as possible. What he wanted to execute though, was a ‘family portrait’ of you and him so that his family and friends in space would be able to see what he was up to. And as always, you obliged to his demands, putting in the extra elbow grease to draw it as he imagined it. As a finishing touch, Soul added the orange, tabby cat that hung out on your balcony at random times, Soul claiming that they’re best friends.
“Perfect! We’re done!” Soul looked over the drawing with pride, the sun had already set and the stars were starting to twinkle brightly.
“Is this what you wanted?”
“Oh definitely!” he nodded eagerly “And we finished just in time to go stargazing!” Before you could say anything, Soul grabbed your hand to lead you to the picnic blanket under the tree, this time, a bit more calmer.
“Why’d you wanna stargaze anyway? I thought you lived amongst the stars based on what you’ve told me.” You sat down one last time on the blanket right next to him, Soul immediately laying his head right on your lap, your hand came up to rest on his multicolored hair.
“I wanted to see the stars with you.” The phrase touched you more than you thought it would, the meaning behind his words bringing a certain heavy feeling on your chest almost bringing you to tears.
“I promise I’ll keep in touch with you once my research period on Earth is over. You better keep in touch too!” You couldn’t see it, however you could almost sense that carefree grin he always carries forming on his face.
“Okay, I promise I’ll keep in touch too.”
I wouldn’t want to forget you…
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👾 - bleep blorp zeep zorp
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quotidian-oblivion · 4 months ago
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So I woke up today and found the house empty. Turns out, my dad was at work, my siblings were at Islamic summer camp classes and my mom was out shopping and no one would be home for a few hours.
I was left unsupervised for several hours straight at home.
And so, in all my teenage rebellion glory, I decided to have chocolate milk for breakfast. Because you know this girlie pop loves her choccie milk.
And so I quickly freshened up and eagerly leapt to the kitchen for my delicious breakfast. I didn't wanna go all the way to the store and purchase a choccie milk, so I decided to make my own.
I got the milk, sugar, cocoa powder, drinking chocolate powder, ice and blender. All the basic ingredients cuz we didn't have much at home (which was why my mom was out shopping).
Now the thing about the blender is that my mom often refers to it as her precious gold. The blender is sacred in this household and whoever so much as even sets it down too hard, invokes the wrath of my mom. So, in order to preserve my life, I took great measures to make sure nothing happens to it. But while pouring the milk, I paused.
I knew that the blender had a minimum capacity for it to do thr blending, but I didn't know what. So I just poured it till the first measuring line. I made my chocolate milk, meticulously measuring each ingredient with my soul and even adding some coffee to it.
And then, it was done! But with everything blended together, the choccie milk had somehow risen in volume even though all the ingredients were milk and powders. So I grabbed the biggest glass in our house and that thing is HUGE. It's as big as my water bottle.
But even after filling the glass to the brim, there was still, like, half of the contents of the blender left. I shrugged and plopped an ice cube in, resolving to drink the other half after I did my chores. So I drank the first glass and since I was hungry, it didn't take long. I was chugging the glass like a man who had just gotten through a breakup, paid bail and had staggered into the first bar he found.
I did my chores and stuff then poured the rest of the blender contents. It filled the entire glass yet again. Fyi, half the contents were not foam. The foam took overall 4% of the space, the rest was pure chocolate milk. Idk how my quarter-blender chocolate milk turned into a three-quarters-blender chocolate milk, but I'm starting to think now that there is a reason why my mom loves that blender more than her husband and children and the reason might be that I think the Spirit of Chocolate Milk decided to cross over from the Spirit World and take the mortal form of Blender (I recently started watching atla).
Anyways, it took me a while to chug the entire chocolate milk. And when I did, I fell sick.
Now, you might ask me, "Quo, why didn't you just share it with your siblings when they got back?" The answer is: If I had to trade chocolate milk as ransom for my siblings, I would shoot them myself.
(For legal purposes, this is a joke, but the seriousness is there)
And I couldn't very well share it with my parents because they're recently started talking about physical health and gyms, enhancing my gym-phobia and increasing my desperation to start a badminton club myself because the only physical exercise I find comfortable is taking a racquet and beating the shit out of cocks. Shuttlecocks. So if they found out that I had, most likely, roughly a litre of chocolate milk for breakfast, they would freak. So I had no choice but to finish it.
Anyways, as soon as I finished the huge ass glasses of chocolate milk, I started to feel the consequences of my unregrettable and unsupervised actions.
My stomach became sentient and decided to master water-bending and bend the water inside itself to torture the shell that held it. I felt like puking my breakfast out, but no way in hell was I gonna let my stomach get in the way of my one true love. So I refused to puke out the chocolate milk.
I endured the attack of the Puke Nation and finally prevailed. And of course, lamented to my friends about it because I'm a dramatic bitch.
I quickly washed the blender and the glass and cleared everything out just in time as my mom and sisters came home.
And guess what she brought for me. No, guess.
She got me chocolate milk. She went to the store, saw a bottle on clearance, and bought it. And if I don't drink it today, it will expire.
Anyway, it's been 6 hours, that's enough time to give my stomach a break from a litre of chocolate milk, right?
If I don't update, you can correctly assume that I committed death via chocolate milk overdose. Drink on, soldiers 🫡
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autumnrainwrites · 6 months ago
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The Doll's Teeth
The witch was just beginning to wonder what all the shouting was about when the door of their study burst open and a gaggle of dolls streamed in, babbling over each other angrily. The doll in their lap stirred, sudden worry flitting across its porcelain features. Each waved a different household object in their unamused face, talking over each other in voices inappropriate for indoors, not even giving the witch a chance to speak. Finally, the witch raised their voice sharply, cutting through the din with a simple, "Enough."
The dolls fell silent in an instant, suddenly shamefaced about disturbing their witch. The one in their lap curled inward on itself, so they took a second to smile down at it and whisper, "you did nothing wrong, dear. Now, let's hear what your sisters have to say for themselves."
Looking back up, they took a moment to look each of the complaining dolls in the face one by one, their stern gaze lingering until each one looked away. With their control reestablished, they took a breath and said, “Cala, you know that you shouldn't be bursting in here yelling like that, and I expect you to set a better example for the rest of the household."
Head Doll Cala nodded, keeping her eyes fixed on the intricate patterns of the study's oriental carpet. "This one is sorry, Miss Raleigh. This one let her emotions get out of control, and did not stop to think before giving into anger.
"I forgive you, Cala, but no candy for the rest of the week, until everyone's daytime chores are done on Friday. And that goes for the rest of you, as well. Now, Cala, calmly explain to me exactly what you and the others are upset about."
None of Miss Raleigh's dolls grumbled at the punishment. It was fair, after all. Cala took a moment to compose her thoughts, then said, "Miss Raleigh, we are upset about the new doll you adopted, the stray. To be frank, it has been an absolute menace. Picking stuff up and forgetting where one sets it is one thing. We all know Aster does that all the time. But when we find our things covered in bite marks, it becomes completely unacceptable. My wooden spoons from the kitchen, Aster's colored pencils, Euthamia's ruler and yardstick, even Sunflower's toy soldiers. And you know how hard she worked on painting those."
Raleigh glanced to the small blonde doll with tears in its eyes, holding up a small stack of badly mauled knights, their little plastic limbs mangled beyond repair. They let out a sigh and beckoned Sunflower closer, gently easing Magnolia off their lap, before wrapping the wargaming doll up in a tight embrace. 
"Don't worry, my dear little Sunflower. We can go to the little shop in town this weekend and get you some new models to replace the broken ones, and new paint too, and we can work on them together. I still need to paint my own army, after all."
"Thank you, Miss..." Sunflower mumbles into the folds of the witch's housecoat.
"Take your time, dear... But after this, I will go have a word with Walnut.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Raleigh had found Walnut the week before, on their way home from a particularly long and grueling day at work. They were tired from hours spent in deep concentration, gradually unraveling a rather potent generational curse upon a desperate woman's unborn son. All they had wanted was a hot bath, a cup of camomile tea, and Cala's diligent mouth, when they saw the doll curled up in an alley. It was clearly either lost or abandoned, with its brown hair all tangled and its dress torn and filthy. 
It took Raleigh almost no time at all to convince Walnut to follow them home. Most of that time was spent convincing Walnut it deserved to have a witch at all. Once there, Raleigh and Aster got Walnut cleaned up, while Euthamia and Sunflower picked out a new outfit from the clothes closet and Cala readied the guest bedroom. Magnolia wanted to help too, but Raleigh was still worried about that one's recent fungal infestation and bid it continue resting. Finally, Walnut lay in bed, with clean porcelain and beautifully combed hair of the same color as its name. 
And only then did Raleigh allow themself to sleep, under the gentle attention of their head doll.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
The witch found their newest doll in the library, absently chewing on an eraser as it read a book by lamplight. It was late now, with the other dolls all sent to get ready for bed except Cala. The head doll stood in the kitchen down the hall, heating the house’s second-smallest kettle on the stovetop.
As Raleigh approached, Walnut paused its reading and looked up, ready for its witch’s command, but Raleigh simply gestured for it to relax. “Hey, Walnut. We need to have a chat.”
Immediately, Walnut froze, looking at them with a hint of panic in its eyes. “Y-yes, Miss?” Its voice was low, barely more than a whisper, and it flinched as they sat down across the reading table from it.
“Walnut, you’re not in trouble, I promise. But you do need to stop chewing on things that don’t belong to you. Your sisters are really upset about it. What I’d like to know, though, is why you are chewing on things?”
Walnut didn’t answer for a moment, its eyes staring down at the book without really seeing it. Finally it said, “This one doesn’t know, Miss. It just does. When it is moving around, it gets distracted and picks stuff up, and then it just ends up biting it. And the biting feels good, so it keeps going. But it knows it should stop…”
The doll trembles, articulated eyelids closing as ball-jointed hands curl into fists. “It’s such a stupid, useless doll, always breaking stuff because it can’t stop biting. That’s why its last owner kicked it out. He told it that it caused more problems than it solved, and that… and that…”
Silently, Raleigh stood from their seat, walked around the table, and wrapped their arms around the sobbing doll. It stiffened at the touch.
“Miss, why…”
“Dearest doll, I knew you were in pain, but I didn’t realize that it went that deep. I should have noticed, the night I brought you home. I’ll think of a solution for this, but first, just let go of all that pain. Let it flow through you, like water.”
The doll had no more words, only impossible tears magically shed.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Two days later, when Raleigh got home from work, they found a small package waiting for them on the study’s desk. They opened it, smiled, and set out to find their newest doll. 
They found it in the library, learning sign language from Euthamia while Magnolia sat with its favorite novel in the reading nook.
“Hello, dears,” Raleigh said as they entered the room, before a look of concern crossed their features. “Euthamia, are you having an episode?”
“No, Miss,” the tall doll said. “This one felt it best to teach Walnut, though, for the next time this one is unable to speak.”
“Such a good idea, dear,” they said and gave Euthamia a pat on its head. “I need to borrow Walnut for just a moment.”
Walnut stood from the table, clearly nervous, chewing idly upon the eraser, and went to follow Raleigh into the hall. “Miss, this one has stuck with just the eraser and hasn’t bitten anything else. It promises…”
“I know, dearest doll,” Raleigh said and gave it a head pat as well. “I actually have a gift for you. Here.”
They pulled out the package and showed it to Walnut, who immediately let out a surprised awawa. It was half a dozen cord necklaces, each with a rubber charm of a different combination of color, shape, hardness, and texture.
“You can wear one of these and chew on it when you need to, so that you don’t have to use that eraser anymore. It is getting worn out and nasty now, right?”
“Yes, Miss,” Walnut chuckles, embarrassed.
“Throw it away, then, and use these. And if you get low, I can order more, yes?”
“Thank you, Miss…”
Raleigh pulled their doll into a tight embrace at the sight of yet more impossible tears. In a thin, reedy whisper, it asks, “What if it breaks something else…”
“Well, then you apologize and pay to replace it from your allowance. I’d suggest taking care to not break Sunflower’s toys, though. The plastic crack is…” The witch shuddered as they remembered their promise to take Sunflower to the store in town tomorrow. It would be a sore day for their wallet. But focusing on the doll in their arms right now, they cradle Walnut’s head and press it even closer. “But don’t worry about that now. I think I hear Cala ringing the dinner bell, and some good food always helps me feel better.”
Walnut looked up at its witch with a thin, toothy smile, and almost appeared like it was not just crying. “This one would like that very much. Thank you for everything, Miss. It… it doesn’t know how it could ever repay you.”
Raleigh shook their head as they led it down the hall. “The only repayment I need is to feel your happiness and that of your sisters. Well, and a clean house and warm food. That is enough for me.”
And with a giggling doll in tow, the witch entered the dining room to enjoy just that.
Cast:
Miss Raleigh (They/Them): A witch who lives in a coastal town with their six dolls.
Cala (It/Its): Head doll of Miss Ralaigh’s house, which often shares their bedroom.
Aster (She/Her, It/Its): A loud doll, who does not do much in this story.
Euthamia (It/Its): A tall doll with occasional speaking difficulty.
Sunflower (It/Its): An artistic doll who loves fantasy wargaming.
Magnolia (It/Its): A hardworking doll, recovering from fungi.
Walnut (It/Its): The newest doll, with a bad habit.
Author’s Note: This one is terrified of misgendering its own characters. It keeps trying to write ‘she’ for Raleigh. But it is trying, at least. And yes, this is supposed to be a continuation of one of its previous little stories. It thinks that Miss Raleigh speaks too differently between the two, though.
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smusherina · 1 year ago
Text
yard work - chapter 6 (regina george x reader)
fandom: Mean Girls (all media)
pairing: Regina George x OFC/Reader
summary: You'd been in the same class as Regina George since kindergarten. You'd lived on the same street even longer. Once upon a time, when life was sandbox disputes and who got the swing first arguments, you'd even been friends. Now, in junior year of high school, you doubted she even remembered you. The same couldn't be said about you. You definitely remembered her.
warnings(s): 2004 was not a good time for the gays. homophobia persists. insecurity about weight and insulting oneself about it.
chapter 1 / chapter 2 / chapter 3 / chapter 4 / chapter 5 / chapter 7
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You dipped into your savings and got Regina a new, fancy moisturizer. You couldn't count on her using it instead of the lard, but well. Guide a horse to water, can't make it drink, and all that.
You didn't tell her about the Homecoming prank, though. She'd been pissed about that. Not for long, because then it turned into a sort of trend at Northshore and it only boosted her popularity.
You were perhaps more upset about it. Upset you'd let it happen, upset they'd done it in the first place, upset Regina stood there with Aaron. He didn't even look like he wanted to be there.
Regina managing to turn it around for her benefit didn't stop you from feeling bad. It was the principle of the thing. You'd taken some distance from her. Everybody, actually. People just didn't feel all that great to be around. You were betraying Regina by letting her be essentially bullied by Janis, you were tolerating Regina's abusive reign over the student body, Aaron was getting on your last nerve by simply existing, and your mom's death anniversary was coming up.
You went to the Georges' less. Regina came to yours when you didn't lie about having to catch up on homework or doing a project. You did do some yard work for them since you still needed the extra cash. Just basic things like raking leaves and doing small repairs here and there. You also covered the pool with Mrs George's help.
"Whew, I forget what a chore that is every year!" She wiped at her forehead. You laid on the grass, chest heaving. You'd carried maybe seventy per cent of that thing.
"You said it, Mrs George." You managed to get out.
"How many years have I been telling you to call me Jude. Or just mom." You looked up at her. She looked so much like Regina. Or Regina looked so much like her.
She'd known your mom. Cried harder at her funeral than your dad or even yourself. You hadn't really gotten it, at that point. She'd hugged you tight and told you what an amazing woman she was, that she hadn't deserved to go yet. She sent you food for weeks after, which you appreciated because dad was too busy sorting stuff out to cook for you.
She'd been more of a mom to you than your own had ever gotten to be. Still, it felt wrong to call her anything other than Mrs George. It was weird. Word association gone all wrong. Mom meant a casket being lowered into a hole on a bleak November day, an echoing house and an empty kitchen, sad and wistful things. Mrs George meant afternoons spent running around in the backyard, eating 'till your belly was full to bursting, happiness and summer.
"Many, many years." You groaned as you got up. "Is Reggie home?"
You figured it would be weird if you didn't go say hi, at least. You didn't want to cut her out entirely. It was just hard being around her when the weight of your own actions, and inactions, weighed on your shoulders.
She smiled in a way that told you she'd noticed your deflection. "In her room."
"Great. Oh, by the way, what did you do with the apples this year?"
"I convinced Rick to donate them to the women's shelter downtown. They'll be put to good use there."
"That's awesome," You put your hands to your hips and looked around. "Anything you want me to do?"
"I'll just hose down the rose bushes, you head on inside. Avoid the living room, Rick's on a conference call." She waved you off with a smile.
You trod through the house carefully, shoes in hand. You knew the Georges were a shoes-on household, but it just never felt right for you to walk on carpeted floors with your shoes on. What if you had stepped on dogshit? What then?
"Reg?" Her door was open a crack, so you peeked in. "You decent?"
"Yes, I'm decent." You could hear the eye roll in her voice. "What do you want?"
Yikes. She wasn't happy.
You walked in and closed the door behind you. She was on her bed, reading a book on her belly. She was snacking on some candy bar.
"I just came to say hi. I put the pool cover on with your mom." You walked up to her. "What're you reading?"
"I could hear you huffing and puffing all the way up here." She turned on her side to look at you. "The Catcher in the Rye. It's boring."
"I dunno, I liked it." You climbed in hesitantly. When she didn't protest, you settled down on your side facing her, head leaned against your palm.
"You've read it?" She tossed the book on the floor next to the bed, now giving you her full attention. "Can you write my paper?"
"Depends on how much you'll pay me." You grinned and rubbed your fingers together like you were handling cash.
"Boo, you whore." She pouted. "Aren't we supposed to be beyond that?"
"I don't do charity, my friend." You flopped onto your back and crossed your arms. Shit, she had a comfy bed. So soft but just firm enough, too. You let your eyes close. You were so tired from all that physical labour.
"Get off my bed, you traitor." You opened your eyes too late. She was already on you, pushing you, and you had no time to resist until you were toppling onto the floor. You clambered down in a mess of limbs and sheets, which you'd grabbed in your desperate attempt to stay aboard.
"Reg! Your bed is actually high up! Help me!" You felt like Mufasa clinging to the face of the cliff, fingers digging into the slippery bedding. One of your legs was still on the bed, but not securely enough that you would've been able to pull yourself to safety.
"Just put your leg on the floor, dumbass." She cackled, watching you panic over such a small drop.
"No, look, it's not that- close." You lowered your leg and your knee made contact with the floor. Regina fell back, gasping as she laughed. "Shut up, you teapot!"
"No! I'm not-" She tried to stifle the laughs escaping her, the real wheezing ones she didn't let out of their cage willingly, but one look at you set it off again. "Your hair!"
You lifted your hands to your head. "It's not my fault your sheets are fucking static."
By the time Mrs George came to inform you that she'd be starting on dinner, thus signifying you should probably go, Regina had stopped laughing, if just barely.
"Have you been using the moisturizer I gave you?" You tried to analyze her face. It didn't look any less flawless than usual.
"Yeah, it's really great. My old night lotion started smelling weird for some reason. Maybe it expired early or something." You just hummed in response.
"I should probably go home and make myself dinner too."
"I'll walk you down."
You walked down the stairs and to the backdoor, avoiding the living room despite the blaring of the TV. Mr George was definitely not on a call anymore.
"What're you making today?" Regina asked, standing somewhat awkwardly on the porch.
"Probably tacos. I found a great deal on some corn tortillas at the store. They're all going bad today, so. Gonna stuff myself."
"Save some for me, yeah?"
You weren't sure what she meant by that. "Sure."
You walked home and as you'd said, got started on dinner. Moving around the kitchen without Regina there in the way, chopping whatever vegetables into misshapen cubes, felt weird. She wasn't over that often, but you'd gotten used to it regardless.
It was perhaps your biggest flaw as a person, how intolerant you were to being alone. Ironic, considering how much time you had to spend alone.
If it was up to you, you would've made Birria tacos with a good cut of sirloin, but you didn't have the money for fresh cuts of beef. Besides, you hadn't even started on the stew, and that took a whole day. So, you settled on some basic ground beef filling. You had made Pico de Gallo earlier that day, so it was nice and flavourful by the time you were constructing your tacos.
Back when you'd still needed a babysitter, there had been this one Mexican lady who appeared on the roster most often. It was so long ago you couldn't remember her name. She'd made you call her Abuela. She was sweet and taught you the wonder of Latin American cuisine. From what you could understand, she'd been well-travelled and really loved food everywhere.
She stopped coming when all of your babysitters did. The last time you saw her, you hadn't known it would be the last time.
This time of year really made you a monster. A dull grey, depressing monster. You'd have to find some exciting hobby because even you were getting sick of this. Maybe cliff jumping?
A knock on your door was the last thing you expected when you were finally ready to chow down. Making such a huge amount of food took time.
"What?" You barked to whoever dared to disturb you. "Oh, shit."
"Is that how you greet all your dinner guests?" Regina asked, batting her eyelashes. She had on a deep red dress, shiny satin that licked at the curves and edges of her body just right. It reached all the way to her feet, where you could see black heels peeking out from under the hem. She stood taller than usual, but still so short you could see above her head. The dress was strapless as far as you could tell as her jacket was covering her shoulders. Sweetheart neckline and a clutch to match. She had a thin gold chain around her neck with a small R-charm on it. Gold hoop earrings, hair done up in curls.
A grin crept up onto her face as you continued to gape at her visage. "I know, right?" She posed, one hand holding the clutch at level with her thigh and one poised at her waist. "I'm so sexy."
"Yeah, uh, yes, you are." You stuttered, stunned and flustered. You wanted to touch her, feel the fabric of the dress with the tips of your fingers, grab a hold of her and press close to her. She looked so fucking good.
"Thanks, baby." She took a couple of steps forward to reach you and, nonchalant as could be, brushed her hand at your shoulder as if she were brushing off dust.
Your knees wobbled.
"I have dinner for us." You blurted out. "I, uh..." You needed to pull it together. "I'm gonna go change."
"You do that," Regina said with an indulgent smile. You shot up the stairs.
When you came back down, still tucking your shirt into your trousers and tie undone, Regina was sitting on the couch perusing a magazine. It was probably from last year or something, you didn't exactly update the stuff under the coffee table.
You coughed to get her attention. "Ready for dinner, Reggie?"
"Ugh, don't ruin the moment. Anything other than that."
"I'm Jorts and you're Reggie, that's how it's been." You reminded and gently plucked her clutch from her hands before gesturing for her to turn around. She did, looking a little confused. When you reached to take her jacket off, she recoiled.
"Um, I would like to keep it on." She said, the confidence from before diminishing.
"Oh, why?" You asked. "Are you cold?"
"No, it's just, um..." Regina George stammering. You didn't think you'd live to see the day. "I don't look like I used to before."
"What does that mean?" You checked her out, toes to forehead. Drop-dead gorgeous as always.
"I've gained a bunch of weight." She looked down as if she needed to be ashamed. "I barely fit into this gown. I had to suck in even with the Spanx. And I still look like a whale."
As much as you would've liked to be incredulous and loud about just how wrong she was, it didn't seem like the right course of action. She was being open and vulnerable with you.
"I don't think you look like a whale." You stepped close to her tentatively. You set the clutch on the coffee table. Then, just as tentatively, circled your arms around her. You slotted your fingers together at her lower back and pulled her to you so that your bellies touched.
"I couldn't hug a whale." You pointed out helpfully, leaning back slightly to still look her in the eyes. "I'd love to see the dress in its full glory."
Regina, hands fussing with unmade your tie, bit her lip in contemplation.
"Careful, don't mess up your lipstick." She rubbed her lips together at that, a smile threatening to break out.
"Fine. But you can't laugh or stare or anything."
"I swear." You put one hand on your heart and the other up. "Now turn around."
She did as you asked. "You're being awfully chivalrous."
"It's what you deserve, Reggie." You crooned jokingly, pulling the jacket from her shoulders. The dress was cut elegantly so that there were no straps, but bits of fabric hanging by her upper arms. Cold-shoulder. You hoped the jokes in your tone hid how nervous you were.
"What did I just say?" As if that little moment between you two hadn't even happened, she was right back to her normal self.
"Fine. But you'll always be my Reggie. I guess tonight we can pretend." You sighed. "Whatever you say, honey."
"Better." She turned and tugged at your tie. "Now, let's get you sorted."
"I had very little notice, okay?" You grumbled but bent down obediently so she'd have an easier time tying your tie. You'd used to play dress up mixed with house all the time. You'd nearly always been the dad and so, you had to wear a tie. Obviously. Mrs George had gotten tired of constantly being asked to do it, so she'd taught Regina.
Now, it felt a little different. For one, you were taller. Secondly, this wasn't a children's game. Maybe you were playing a little bit, pretending, but it didn't quite feel like that. There was something undeniably real about this.
"There." She said once she was finished, smoothing it out against your chest. "You couldn't find one matching the dress?"
"You're impossible to please." You chuckled. "I'll make sure to go tie shopping as soon as possible."
"Good." She liked to ignore your sardonic tone pretty often. "Now, what's on the menu?"
You tucked the rest of the shirt into your pants and, voila, you were done.
"Tacos, my lady." You offered up your arm half in jest. She hooked her wrist into the bend of your elbow with an incline of her head. Clearly, she was a girl that liked to be wined and dined.
You snuck a bottle from your dad's wine collection, hoping it wasn't some speciality. Looking at the label, it wasn't very old. Wine quality was assessed like that, right?
You ate your fills and then some, drinking wine all the while, then retreated to the couch to recover, and turned on the TV to watch while eating dessert. Sharing a pint of ice cream, curled up on the couch in fancy clothes, warm and away from the cold of late November, you wondered what had brought this on.
It wasn't an official date, that much you knew. Regina wasn't a lesbian like you. Maybe she was indulging you. That would mean she knew you had a crush on her. You hoped that wasn't true. Regina was an observant person, though. Fuck, that'd be humiliating.
It didn't feel like she was playing with you. It looked like she was having as much fun as you. Maybe she wanted to have a nice, romantic dinner without the pressure of having to impress or perform for her date.
It was nice she'd chosen you. Regardless of why she'd come here tonight, you were just glad she was with you. You'd had a lot of people leave, most of them never coming back. The exceptions to the rule were Regina and your dad. They were similar in that, but nothing else. When dad came back, he brought with him a never-pleased frown and a stifling presence. When Regina came back, she brought light.
She had her flaws. You had yours. Thanksgiving was right around the corner and Christmas would soon follow. You had no doubt that Janis had something nefarious planned for at least one of those events. Nothing was sure, things were undecided.
"I'm going for a smoke." You said when the episode ended.
"I'm coming with."
"You won't be getting one."
"I don't want it anyway. Cigarettes taste like shit."
You laughed and walked to the backdoor. Through it and onto the patio, you slumped onto the bench swing. Regina followed a lot more gracefully, heels chucked somewhere in the house, bundled up in the blanket she'd claimed as hers since the first time she slept over. She sat next to you and spread it over both your laps. You hummed in thanks and lit up.
Regina might've been a massive bitch. She had, and there was no denying it, done some awful things. And maybe it was fucked up for you to like one part of a person and not the whole of them, but did that count if you were sure that the undesirable part was all a facade?
"So..." You started. "Better than any of the dates Aaron took you to?" You couldn't help but ask. Veiled under a joke, you hoped your jealousy didn't show.
"Don't be cocky." She admonished, resembling her mom almost creepily. "He didn't really take me out."
"What? Why?" If you could openly date Regina there wouldn't be a limit to how much you'd be taking her out, showing her off to anybody who'd listen.
"How should I know?" She shrugged indignantly. "We broke up a little after Homecoming."
"What? I didn't hear about this."
"Really? I thought you would've since it was pretty big news for a while." You didn't want to admit you'd been purposefully avoiding rumours about the couple for the majority of their relationship. "He outlived his purpose."
"The Halloween Party and Homecoming." You clarified and she nodded.
You took a drag. Regina pulled what seemed like a candy bar out of her clutch. It was the same brand she'd been eating earlier today.
Considering she'd been insecure about her weight, you didn't comment on it. You took another drag. You couldn't shake off the feeling that there was something weird.
"Hey, can I look at the packaging of that?"
Wordlessly, Regina handed it over. You looked at the product info. Great, it was all in Swedish.
"Where'd you get these?"
"Cady got me a box of them. They're good for weight loss. Like, they just burn all your carbs." You furrowed your eyebrows and looked back at the product info. The numbers didn't seem like that of a weight loss product.
You didn't like she was eating something that would empty her stomach right after dinner. That couldn't have been healthy.
"You're trusting something Cady gave to you?"
She tilted her head, as if about to question you. Her mouth opened, then closed, and opened again.
"Shut up. Shut up."
You took a long drag.
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