#i mean i get your point but at the same time you should be asking more questions in my opinion

[evnseokz]

☆ anniversary sex with eunseok

pairing: bf! eunseok x less experienced! f. reader

contents: first time (with eachother), p in v, kissing, making out, eating out, finger sucking, cum eating(?), eunseok has more experience than reader, pet names: baby, princess, darling, reader is kind of a pillow princess but only because eunseok makes her be one, cockwarming, and honestly has fluff too!

this is not proofread, sorry if the ending was kind of short i never know how to end these things… (w.c. 1.9k)

you and eunseok moved slowly when it came to intimacy in your relationship, mainly because of you having very little experience. eunseok didn’t want to push you, he never forced you to do anything you weren’t comfortable with and was always more than happy to stop if you were. at this point in time you have been intimate with eunseok before but you two still hadn’t actually had sex. you were nervous you weren’t going to be good enough for him in bed and even with constant reassurance from eunseok that you could never not be good enough, you just weren’t ready. and he didn’t push you further than that.

tonight was different however, it was your official six month anniversary and you really wanted to do something special for your boyfriend. you guys decided to stay in and celebrate your anniversary with a movie and cuddling on the couch. you were cuddled into eunseoks side, his arm draped around your frame. a blanket covering the both of you. eunseok was too entranced in the movie to even notice the way you kept shifting nervously, or the way your heart rate was higher than usual. you kept looking at him, then the screen, then your hands on repeat.

when the movie finally came to an end your nerves picked up even more. eunseok shifted so he could look down at you, he smiled and tucked some hair behind your ear, bringing your face up to meet his at the same time. your eyes widen and you chew on your lip as you look up at him. “what’s the matter baby?” he cocks his head. your mouth runs dry before opening to speak. “um, i was thinking about what i could get you for our anniversary and i-i think im ready.” his brows furrow. “ready for what?” he asks puzzled at your confusing words. you gulp “you…” you look down at your hands again. a light bulb goes off in eunseoks head finally realizing what you mean. a light blush spreads across the apples of his cheeks as he chuckles slightly.

“are you sure y/n? you shouldn’t only do this for me, you should want it too.” he says firmly. you nod your head and flash him a quick smile, “i’m sure”. eunseok wastes no time throwing the blanket off the both of you and gathering you in his arms. carrying you bridle style to your shared bedroom. you cling to your boyfriend giggling slightly as he sets you down on the edge of the bed. he’s standing in front of you. a light blush paints the both of your cheeks as you look at eachother. you both smile before leaning in for a kiss. it starts off slow, his hands on either side of your face, yours on his waist.

the kiss becomes more intense by the second, his tongue swiping your bottom lip begging for entry, which you grant. your tongues fight for dominance and eunseok starts to lay you down on your back, his body following yours. you back up till you hit the pillows at the headboard and eunseok isn’t a beat behind. he breaks the kiss to trail kisses down your neck and onto the exposed part of your chest. quiet moans leave your mouth as his mouth works expertly on your skin. he separates his mouth from your skin for a moment, his finger tips trailing along the hem of your shirt. “can i take this off?” he scans your face for approval. you nod, and he begins to peel your shirt off your body, you sit up a little making it easier for him.

once your shirt is off, eunseok gawks at the sight of your unclothed chest, licking his lips as he takes in every detail of your plump breasts sitting perfectly in your bralette. you hide your face in embarrassment, and eunseok chuckles slightly at you. he peels your hands away from your face and tilts your head to look at him. “nothing to be embarrassed about princess, you’re perfect. how did i get so lucky?” he smiles. your cheeks are flaming hot at this point, eunseok returns to marking up the skin of your exposed breasts, hand reaching around to fiddle with the clasp of your bra. you giggle at the way he’s struggling with it you decided to help him and reach behind yourself to unclasp it. your bra slips from your chest and eunseok doesn’t waste another second, attaching his lips to your nipple, kneading the other breast in his hand. you moan, the sensation being all too much. your hands fly to his head, and you rake your hands through his hair. he groans at the action before pulling away from your chest to free himself from his own shirt.

leaning back on his knees, you admire his toned chest and stomach. taking this opportunity to reach forward and run your hand down his body, you go to reach your hand into the waistband of his pants but he stops you. “ah-ah not yet princess” he shakes his head. “i want this to be all about you tonight”, he caresses your face. he’s obsessed with the way you’re looking up at him, big sparkling eyes, listening to his every word. he leans back over you peppering kisses down your torso before placing a kiss over your clothes heat. you gasp and the light, unexpected pressure. he looks up at you from where he’s at, as if to ask for permission to take your shorts off, you nod granting it. he slides your shorts down, and then comes back to where your underwear lays against your body. he leans down, and grabs the waistband with his teeth, and slowly drags them down your legs, making sure to not break eye contact the entire time. you whine at the action.

once your underwear is off he shoves the garment into his back pocket. and trails kisses on your thighs as he makes his way back up your body. he stops right in front of your heat, and you can feel his breath fanning over it, making you squirm a little. he presses a light kiss to your core, before starting to kitten lick you between your folds. your whole body shudders with please, his movements become more intense by the second and at this point he’s fully making out with your pussy. your hands are pulling at his hair, making him groan into your sweet cunt. your moans get louder and louder as you become closer and closer to cumming. eunseok starts to suck on your clit and that’s what sends you over the edge, hips bucking, and legs shaking. you’re a panting, moaning mess as eunseok helps you ride out your first orgasm of the night. his face separates from your cunt, and you can see your juices smeared around his mouth. your cheeks flush in embarrassment, he takes his thumb wiping up the mess around his lips before taking his thumb into his mouth and swirling his tongue around the digit a few times. you stare at him in awe.

he takes his thumb out his mouth, a string of spit connecting it to his lips. he reaches his other hand out towards you and places it at the base of the back of your neck, before moving you forward, “open your mouth darling” he says sternly. you comply no questions asked, and he places his thumb in your mouth, you close your lips around it on instinct sucking slightly on the digit. “good girl” he coos, arousal still pooling between your legs. he removes his thumb from your mouth before going to unbutton his own pants. pulling them and his underwear down at the same time. his cock sprang free, hitting his stomach. you bit your lip as you stared at his member, tip glistening with pre cum. you’d seen his dick multiple times before yet you still were always amazed at what he was packing underneath his garments.

eunseok reaches into the drawer of the nightstand and grabs a condom, you stop him before he opens it. “i-i started on the pill not too long ago” you say looking up at him through your eyelashes. he drops the condom back in the drawer before coming to hover over your smaller frame. “you’re too good to me baby, you know that?” he kisses your forehead, then your nose, cheeks, and finally your mouth. you giggle as you melt into the kiss. you feel eunseok positioning himself in between your legs, the weight of his cock resting on your heat. the feeling makes you shudder slightly into the kiss. eunseok breaks away to look you in your eyes, “i’m going to put it in now, okay?” he tells you, you nod, chewing on your lip in anticipation and nervousness.

he grabs his cock in his hand, and aligns himself with your entrance, his tip prodding at your cunt. he slowly guides himself inside you, hand leaving his cock and going to hold your hand beside your head. you cry out in a mix of pain and pleasure, eunseok is panting at the feeling of your tight cunt around his thick cock. he bottoms out and stills himself completely, giving you time to adjust to him. his head falls into the crook of your neck. “your cunt was made for me baby, you feel so good” he says while placing kisses to your neck. you moan in response, the feeling of being full driving you insane.

eunseok starts to move slowly, not wanting to surprise you or hurt you. but those thoughts are pushed to the back of his mind once he hears the beautiful moans slipping past your lips. he decides to pick up the pace, hips smacking against yours as he pulls out and then thrusts back in, bottoming out again. you cry out, moaning curses, letting a “feels so good” slip out every once and while. eunseok grabs your hips and fucks you deep. you feel your resolve slipping away from you and eunseok can tell. he reaches down and starts circling his fingers on your clit, making your body jolt as cries of pleasure erupt from your throat. “that’s it baby, cum for me” he says, his pace never faltering. that’s all it took for you to come completely undone underneath him. cunt squeezing his cock as your whole body shook, your eyes squeezed shut in please as you moaned loudly. your tight cunt clenching around eunseok sent him over the edge, him cumming shortly after you did. you both riding out your highs at the same time. his thrusts slowed before he dropped his head into your neck again. you wrapped your arms around him holding him close. not quite ready for him to leave your body.

he goes to try and get up but you stop him, “can we just stay like this for awhile? please?” you look at him with your bright shiny eyes and he can’t say no to you. so he switches your positions slightly, moving behind you while you both lay on your sides. his cock still inside you. his arms wrap around your figure holding you close. you cherish the feeling of having him inside you as your breathing finally starts to slow down. you both end up falling asleep, in each others arms, eunseok still inside you. it’s the most comforted you’d ever felt.

.

.

.

[suzukiblu]

Man, does Clark panic adopting not count as kon-napping(+ match-napping)?

Oh well, I suppose I won't request anything for WIP Wednesday. Have fun with everyone's prompts. :]

-MBT

I mean it definitely does imo, but I ruled out a bunch of WIP options that technically count as Kon-napping for one reason or another, 'cuz keeping the list to five options is just way easier for me. Keeping open five documents to jump around is just way kinder on the ol' laptop, y'know? Though for you, fren, since you have been an excellent source of inspo/motivation in the past, I will totally give you some panic-adoption I already had written and just hadn't posted yet, lol. 💛

(( chrono || non-chrono ))

“I didn’t call ahead, so–oh, damn, how did I forget to call, it’s practically lunchtime,” Superman mutters under his own breath. Match stares blankly at him. So does Thirteen, but Match can’t even bring himself to be irritated about it, because it’s the only possible logical reaction to be having right now. Or just ever, possibly, in regards to Superman. 

“Uh,” Thirteen says, shifting uncomfortably in the air and still half-behind Match, annoyingly but unsurprisingly. “Like, we could just . . . do this some other time, maybe, we don’t need to, y’know . . . bug ‘em or whatever. Like, we don’t need to do, uh . . . whatever you’re doing all at once.” 

Superman once again gets that strange look that Match would call “pained” on anyone else’s face, then just–sighs, and shakes his head. 

“I should’ve done it already,” Superman says, his voice just barely tight. “For both of you.” 

“I mean–we literally don’t even know what you are doing, man,” Thirteen says, looking frustrated and uncertain. “Like, you said you didn’t want us to go back to Cadmus or the Agenda but like, then you said we should go home even though we were already at the Fortress, and then you brought us all the way out here to your–to, uh–you know, and–” 

“To my parents’ house,” Superman says. 

. . . Match actually should just take Thirteen and go to Cadmus right now. Superman is clearly an irresponsible idiot of an owner, if he’s going to keep telling him these things. 

Really, the only thing Superman’s done so far as his owner is steal him and also dress him up in a little outfit, from a certain point of view, Match realizes, and tries not to grimace at the thought of being, effectively, another damn dog. 

Which–he is that, more or less. Obviously. He’s–a possession. A weapon. A thing. Not–

Just–the same treatment as the dog, short of getting his damn ears scratched. 

It’s . . . 

Are you fucking STUPID? he wants to ask instead of finishing that thought, but that wouldn’t be any smarter–or safer–to do. 

“Uh,” Thirteen says, and swallows uncomfortably. “Uh–yeah. That.”

[lemoncrushh]

Show Me Your Texts, or It's Over

Summary: Harry finds out you've been in contact with your ex and gives you an ultimatum.

Warnings: angst, maybe a little gaslighting

Word Count: 1889

A/N: From my 2016 collection. This was based on a prompt selected by a reader. Very angsty. You won't like Harry in this, and maybe not y/n either. I almost didn't repost it, but please don't take it too seriously.

You hurried outside to your car, the summer heat threatening to burn you through your black shirt. You felt the vibration of your phone in your hand, alerting you of yet another text from Harry. He'd been texting you all morning and throughout your lunch break. It had started off as a harmless conversation of missing each other when he'd reminded you what time his flight arrived. You'd been apart for over a week, resolving to short late night phone chatter until one of you fell asleep, or the occasional text that left you cold and flat. Needless to say, you were dying to see him.

As the morning progressed, however, so did the texts. His flight was delayed due to weather. He wasn't sure if he'd make it in time to go home and change, so he'd asked to meet you at the dinner party. You argued back and forth, insisting that you were fine with being a bit late if it meant you could go together.

You knew without a doubt that this text that had just arrived was him telling you otherwise, but you were already running late and needed to get back to work. You'd been excited for and anticipating his return, but now you were just frustrated and perturbed.

Tossing your purse and your phone in the passenger seat, you drove back to work. It wasn't until you were settled back in your desk, running your hands through your hair with a sigh, that you decided to examine his newest text. You were surprised, however, when you noticed the name. It wasn't from Harry. It was from your ex-boyfriend, John.

Biting your lip, you swiped the screen to read the text.

Working hard, or hardly working?

You chuckled, texting him back quickly.

Neither. Just got back from lunch.

Damn, I was hoping to persuade you to meet me for a bite.

You grinned at your screen. John had texted you out of the blue two weeks ago. At first you were apprehensive about talking to him again. He'd been the one to break off the relationship, claiming he wasn't ready to commit. You'd taken that to mean he wanted to be free to screw around, so you'd given him the boot. Although you held your head up high, you'd been hurt, your self-esteem lacking. That is, until you'd met Harry. Harry had been the solace that you'd needed, lifting you up repeatedly by his words as well as his actions.

When John came clean with you in his texts, apologizing and admitting that you deserved much more than he had given, you'd decided to bury the hatchet. There was no point in being bitter about it, and you forgave him, not so much for his sake, but for yours.

One thing you hadn't done, though, was tell Harry about it. It wasn't really that you were trying to hide it from him, but you didn't want it to become a big deal. Harry knew how John had treated you. You'd told him repeatedly, and a couple of times had cried in his arms over it. So telling him this same ex that had made you cry was now texting you like an old friend...probably wouldn't be a good idea.

Sorry, you texted John back. Raincheck?

Better yet, how about you meet me for drinks later?

You gritted your teeth, not sure how to answer. Asking for a raincheck on lunch was one thing. Lunch you could do. Probably. But drinks after work? Besides, you needed to run straight home after work to get ready for this dinner party with Harry.

As though he knew you were thinking of him, Harry's name popped up with a new text.

Flight's been delayed longer. I should be home about 7.

Just as you were about to reply, another text alert from John popped up.

How does Margo's sound?

You swallowed hard, trying to decide who to answer first. Quickly, you typed out a message for John.

Sorry, I can't tonight. Harry's coming home.

As soon as you hit send, your eyes about popped out of your head. You'd sent it to the wrong person! Shit!

You saw the three little dots pop up, indicating Harry was typing.

What??

Calming yourself down, you decided to play it cool. It was an accident. He had no idea who the message was for.

Haha sorry baby. I was talking to a friend. Didn't mean to send that to you. I'll see you at 7.

Ok

Making sure you had John's text open then, you politely declined, sending him the text you'd originally intended to.

Oh ok then, John sent back. Maybe some other time. Have fun!

"[Y/N]!" you heard Harry call from the front of the house.

"You're home!" you squealed from the bedroom.

You'd hoped to meet him at the door, greeting him with lavish kisses, but right then you were in an awkward position on the bed, trying to buckle your high-heeled strappy sandal.

"Hi, beautiful," he said in a low tone.

You looked up to see him standing in the doorway. Temporarily dismissing your buckle, you stood to meet him halfway, wrapping your arms around him.

"Mmm, I've missed you," you murmured against his chest.

"I missed you, too," he echoed, "and you look gorgeous."

"What, this old thing?" you playfully scoffed, stepping back to allow him to view your ensemble completely.

A sexy grin spread across his face while he set his suitcase against the wall.

"I'll hurry and get ready. Wish I had time for a shower."

"Go ahead," you insisted. "I don't mind waiting."

"No, love, we're already late. I'll just change."

You sat back down on your bed, grabbing your phone while Harry undressed. You'd gotten a couple of texts from John earlier. When you'd told him you were getting ready for a dinner party, he'd asked you to send a picture. You thought it was a little odd at first, but so far he hadn't said anything that made you feel uneasy. You'd sort of slipped into this comfortable friend zone unexpectedly. So a few minutes before Harry had arrived, you'd sent John a selfie in your dress. He had yet to reply.

Tossing your phone on the bed, you stood and walked to the vanity to put your earrings on. As you were adjusting the second one, Harry passed by the bed.

"Who's John?" he inquired, shoving his arms into a clean shirt.

"What?" you turned to look at him. You noticed then he was inspecting your phone.

"You just got a text from a John," he added.

Oh no.

"'Wow, you look amazing!'" Harry quoted, reading the text that John had apparently sent. "'Sexy as hell!'"

Your entire body trembled as he lifted his head to glare at you.

"Who the fuck is John?" he repeated, his voice rising.

"Um..." you sucked in your lips, wringing your hands.

"Not your bloody ex boyfriend!" Harry nearly shouted, his eyes narrowed.

"Baby-" you started, but Harry interrupted you.

"You're talking to him again? After what he did to you?"

"Harry," you swallowed, stepping towards him. "Let me explain."

His face showed no sign of willingness to listen to any explanation though he remained rooted in his spot.

"He's been texting me a little," you admitted.

"A little?" Harry raised a brow. "For how long?"

"A couple weeks."

"A couple weeks?! Were you gonna tell me?"

You looked down at your hands, wishing you had something in them to hold.

"I thought you'd be mad," you said meekly.

"Well you were right about that!" Harry turned away from you, running a hand through his hair. "Fuck!"

"Harry, I'm sorry," you muttered sincerely. "But I swear, it's harmless."

He swung around, his eyes shooting daggers at you. "Harmless, huh?"

"Yes. He wanted to apologize for everything. I told him I appreciated and accepted his apology, and we just got to talking about what we've been up to, you know, like catching up. I told him about you and-"

"You've told him about me," Harry interrupted.

"Yes! He knows all about you. He knows you were coming home today and we were going to a party."

"Is that..." he paused, "is that who you were texting earlier today? When you sent me the wrong text?"

The look on his face told you he did not find it funny in the least, regardless of your trying to play it off like you had. You opened your mouth to retort, but decided it wasn't worth it.

"Yes," you sighed.

"Shit," Harry dropped his shoulders. He blinked slowly before reaching for your phone.

"Let me see the texts," he demanded.

"What?" you asked incredulously.

"The texts from him. Your conversations."

Anger building in your chest, you grabbed your phone out of his hand.

"No!" you glared at him. "That's ludicrous!"

"Why? Because you have something to hide?"

"No, I-"

"Then show them to me, [Y/N]."

You stood silent for a moment before shaking your head slowly.

"Show me your texts, or it's over," said Harry.

"You can't be serious," you contended, your voice just a whisper.

"Dead serious."

"You..." you began, but quickly surrendered, handing him the phone. "Fine."

You sunk down onto the bed while Harry scrolled through your text messages from John. You knew there was nothing wrong with them. It was the principal. Harry didn't trust you, and that angered and disappointed you.

You focused on Harry's belt buckle while he stood before you. You felt like a child. You didn't appreciate it. You loved Harry and you would never to anything to sabotage your relationship. A tear dropped in your lap, wetting your dress before you even realized you'd been crying. Sniffling, you stood up again to reach for a tissue on the vanity.

"[Y/N]," you finally heard Harry mutter. He cleared his throat. "Baby, I'm sorry."

You turned and looked at him, your eyebrows raised. He lowered the phone, dropping it on the bed. Then he stepped closer to you, reaching for your hands.

"I'm so sorry," he declared again. You noticed a glint of a tear in his right eye.

"I was telling the truth," you said.

"I know," Harry bit his lip, the side of his mouth turning up. "You mentioned me a lot."

"I did," you nodded.

"And you said you're madly in love with me."

"I did."

"And that you're happy. For the first time in your life."

You blinked. "Yes, I did."

"God," Harry ran a hand through his hair again. "I was a jealous prat."

You giggled softly before placing your hands on his chest. "What on earth do you have to be jealous about?"

Harry grinned. "I mean...I still kinda think he's trying something. But I like how you sidestep him every time."

"Because I don't want him, Harry," you conveyed. "I want you. Only you."

You gazed into his eyes until he slipped his hands under your ears and lowered his mouth to capture yours.

"I really missed you," he murmured. "Maybe too much. It's made me do something I never thought I'd do."

"I'm yours, baby," you promised. "You don't have to worry about a thing."

You slid your hands down his torso.

"Except maybe about being late for dinner."

MASTERLIST | KO-FI | FEEDBACK

[tulliok]

Regaeding that mlp rant you went on, the thing that astonished me is the fact that's what they decided was the correct way to punish Cozy Glow, when there are comparatively worse villains that exist in the mlp world, which the main cast have faced before and treated with far more respect, dignity and straight up equality.

Nightmare Moon was going to shroud the world in eternal darkness, but she got off with basically just a slap on the wrist. Discord was going to plunge the world into chaos and stole away the elements of harmony, but he didn't change at all. He just stopped being straight up evil, and that was good enough. Starlight Glimmer is an entire can of worms for another day, but needless to say, she sure did a whole lot of bad stuff and got redeemed nonetheless, despite being a constant antagonist who at one point, threatened the entire world and multiple timelines.

However, when it comes to Cozy Glow, a child who was effectively groomed by Lord Tirek, she is not offered that same kindness or patience or understanding. Instead, she gets the same punishment as him and Queen Chrysalis, which, like you said, is effectively this world's form of capital punishment.

The way the show in general treats villains can be frustrating at times because when the show decides you should like them now, all of their actions and excused and, 'hey it wasn't really all that bad right? they were a bit upset and did a bad', and they get reformed despite putting in no effort to change their ways and learn and grow from their mistakes (and feeling bad for what you did, but not actually doing anything about it, doesn't count, I'm looking at you Luna).

Which is exceedingly frustrating because we know the show can do just that. Take for instance, Sunset Shimmer, who faces the consequences of her actions, learns from them, and changes her behaviour. By the end of the Equestria Girls saga, not only a part of the human girl's main friend group, but now also friends with everyone at school.

Sorry for ranting in your inbox, this show just frustrates me at times even though I love it dearly. You might not agree with me on every point, so I'd be very interested in hearing what you have to say if you feel like giving a response to this ask.

I mean, yeah, all of this. I don't have much to add. Like, I love Discord and Starlight obviously, but I'm not convinced at all that they deserve redemption more than a 6 year old does. Someone did ask me to give more of my thoughts on the final seasons so I'll get more into how I feel about this stuff there.

[chlobliviate]

Wolfstar Microfic - Floo

Words: 996 😮‍💨

@wolfstarmicrofic

🌙✨🌙✨🌙

It was like James had a sixth sense of when Sirius brought a man home, because the last eight times, he’d tumbled through the floo, needing help with something, or wanting to hang out or to check in on Remus. Each time Sirius had been utterly cockblocked by it.

The ninth time it happened, he’d had enough.

“How do you do it?” He snapped when Davey suddenly remembered that he had an early start in the morning. “How do you do this every time?”

James, to his credit, played dumb, “Do what? I’m just here to return Moony’s book.”

“Where is it?” Sirius said, looking at James’ empty hands.

“Where’s what?”

“The book.” Sirius growled, “The book that you’re returning to Moony, Prongs.”

“Oh, would you look at that? I left it at home.” James chuckled, “Oh well, no harm no foul.”

Sirius strode past him into the hallway and James heard his bedroom door slam. Remus poked his head into the living room a few seconds later.

“I think he’s onto you.” He said wearily.

“No idea what you mean, Moony.” James sat down on the sofa.

“What is it?” Something in the wards?”

“Nothing gets past you, does it?” James smiled as Remus dropped into the armchair.

“I just don’t understand why you’re doing it.” Remus frowned, “I’d ask if you fancy him, but you’re getting married in three months so I almost don’t want to.”

“No, I do not fancy Padfoot. Jesus.” James groaned, “But you do.”

Remus’ face dropped, “Don’t know what you’re on about.”

“Moony.”

“Prongs.”

“Remus.”

“James.”

“Look, I know sometimes I can be… unobservant, let’s say. But not this time.” James pointed at him. “I saw the two of you at our engagement party.”

Remus’ face suddenly went from very pale to very red. “Ah.”

“Yes, ah. It looked like the two of you were finally getting your shit together.” James looked at him over the top of his glasses. “So what happened?”

“Well, we came home, we… spent some time in Sirius’ bed. I woke up alone in Sirius’ bed and we’ve just… never spoken about it.” Remus shrugged, but James recognised that sad look in his eyes.

“Would it kill the two of you to have a conversation?” James sighed.

“Possibly.” Remus said, “It’s definitely been too long to bring it up now, though. And he clearly has no intention of doing so. If anything he’s bringing more men home than he was before.”

“But they’re not staying long are they?” James feigned confusion. “Fascinating.”

“This won’t end well.” Remus couldn’t help but smile. “I'm going to deny all knowledge. Wait, would me bringing people home trigger the same thing?”

“Wouldn’t you like to know?” James smirked.

“And that’s why I go to their place whenever the opportunity arises, instead of bringing them here,” Remus said.

“Well, that, and you’re not an asshole.” James’ smirk dropped. “I don’t get what he’s doing.”

“Oh, believe me, I’ve been over and over it in my head.” Remus said quietly, “If he regretted it, he could just tell me. It would suck for a bit, but I’m not a dickhead.”

“Maybe you just need to get drunk together again.”

“That’s a stupid idea.” Remus curled in on himself, tucking his feet under him. “Maybe I should think about moving out.”

“No!” Sirius stood in the doorway, wide-eyed and covering his mouth. James and Remus stared at him. “I don’t want you to move out.” He said quietly after an awkward silence.

“But you understand why he’d want to?” James frowned at him. Sirius nodded. “So, why?”

“I met Emmeline.” Sirius mumbled, “The morning after the party.” Remus’ mouth dropped open.

“Oh, fuck.” His head was in his hands, “Oh shit, oh fuck.”

“Yeah. She turned up for your coffee date wearing less than I enjoyed seeing on a Sunday morning.” Sirius came and sat on the arm of the sofa. “I may have been a bit snippy with her, honestly.”

“Wait, who’s Emmeline?” James asked, looking between them.

“She’s the woman that Remus brought home three days before your engagement party,” Sirius said, not looking at Remus, who was trying not to smirk.

“On a Wednesday, Moony?” James was bewildered.

“Sometimes trivia night is a good way to meet people,” Remus muttered. “I completely forgot that we had plans. Well, that explains why she blocked me.”

“That, and Sirius playing jealous boyfriend,” James added.

“I was not— I didn’t— Shut up, Prongs.” Sirius looked at Remus, “I figured it out afterwards that it was arranged before we… you know. And then I just felt gross for how I reacted.”

“You could have said something, you know.” Remus sighed, “You didn’t have to pretend it never happened and return to your carousel of men.”

“Yeah.” Sirius nodded, “It was shitty, and the shittier I felt about it, the more I spiralled, and then I thought you’d arranged this thing with Prongs to cockblock me, and then I was petty about it. And then I felt guilty about how petty I’d been, and then I spiralled some more, and yeah. I’m sorry.”

“Moony had nothing to do with it,” James confirmed.

“Yeah, I know that now.” Sirius pointed to the door. “Moody would have something to say about your awareness of your surroundings.”

“Moody can kiss my arse.” Remus shook his head, “We probably should talk about it then?” Sirius nodded.

“Well, that’s my cue.” James stood up. “You’re welcome. I’ll be around to fix your wards tomorrow. Please be clothed.”

“You’re lucky we love you, you know,” Sirius said as James waved before stepping into the fire.

“So at what point do we tell him that we’ve been together for six months?” Remus said as Sirius came to squeeze into the armchair. “He really thought he was onto something.”

“He means well.” Sirius kissed Remus’ forehead. “Love you, Moons.”

“Love you too.” He said, “Tell Davey we owe him a pint.”

Notes:

ha.

Also my headcanon (is it a headcanon if it's your own fic?) is that the first time it happened it was completely innocent, Sirius was just bringing a friend round for a drink or something, but then James showed up and was so pleased with himself that they concocted this plan

[abbysimsfun]

Sims In Bloom: Generation 2 Pt. 48 (He Had Him At Hello, Bromance Edition)

Leaving her friends in Old New Henford after dark, Heather, Ash, and Conrad returned to her childhood home with her parents.

They found River and Cassandra still in their work clothes, the two having spent most of the evening trying to get their infant son to sleep. "Doctor Scott says its a phase, it'll pass, but when he doesn't sleep well, we don't sleep well," lamented River. "These days we're thrilled if he sleeps for more than two hours at a time."

Conrad already felt at ease around her siblings, and Heather left them chatting upstairs while her parents showed her the new plants in their always impressive garden. When Michael woke up fussy, she soothed him back to sleep to give his tired parents a break.

Upstairs, River studied Conrad with keen interest. His sister's taste in men had always been a little...off, and he wanted to be sure this one deserved her. "Driving between San Myshuno and Brindleton Bay must not be easy."

"We make it work," said Conrad. "We're waiting for me to get a transfer, but all that driving can be pretty tiring."

"Sometimes I dance just to keep myself awake," said Cass, grooving a little to the music. "Since I left the art studio to help my mother-in-law with her floral business, it's been a bit easier working from home. I never realized the artistry involved in floral arranging, but I can be just as creative with a bouquet of flowers as I can with a palette of acrylics!"

Conrad couldn't relate, but he empathized with their lack of sleep. "I don't know much about raising kids, but Ash likes a story I tell him that my mom used to read to me when I was a kid. The Giving Tree."

"I love that story," Cassandra mused. "I think I saw a copy at the bookstore in the square."

River nodded. "I'll try anything. I'll pick up a copy tomorrow." Despite his fatigue, River's wall crumbled as he got to know Conrad. "What made you think our sister was worth risking your career?"

The question was sincere. Conrad had asked himself the same thing a thousand times. "At first I thought it was because her son needed her more than the Landgraabs needed a win, but then they dropped the charges and I couldn't stop thinking about her. I booked a vet appointment four hours out of the way just to run into her again."

"Why didn't you ask her out, then?"

"River, stop interrogating him," Hazel pushed, but Conrad smiled.

"I wanted to, but I knew she'd been through a lot and I wanted her to be sure she was ready. I sort of knew it would be it for me if I knew she was interested."

"It's a good thing Holly intervened," said Hazel, smiling. "You might still be waiting for her, otherwise."

River grinned. "He definitely would be."

Hazel left to meet Nicola and some friends at the Gnome's Arms, and River and Cassandra finally changed and sat down to dinner. Because they could know no peace, Ash talked their ear off about dinosaurs. "Conerd say t-rex no swim, we safe," he babbled. "T-rex roar!"

"You know there were less scary dinosaurs," River said. "Smaller ones who ate plants. Also big ones. Like brontosaurus."

Ash listened with intense curiosity. "Bront-so-us?"

"Yeah, they were even bigger than your dad's apartment."

Cassandra stifled a laugh. "River, hush."

They were interrupted when Michael woke again from his nap, wailing from the bedroom. With her plate still full of food, Cass left to tend to her son as Heather walked into the kitchen. "We should probably head out. It'll still be an hour on the Simmerloop at this time of night, and we should get Ash to bed before midnight."

Cassandra brought Michael outside for their goodbyes, but the fussy infant didn't last long in the cool autumn air.

River, meanwhile, had found a new best friend in Conrad. "When I found out my sister was dating a cop I wasn't sure what to think, but now I'm pretty confident you've never played bad cop in your life."

Conrad shrugged. "I mean, I don't see the point. It doesn't get me to the truth any faster. But I admire what you and your father do. Building green infrastructure for your community is just as important as what I do."

River laughed. "Please, don't flatter me. You deal with hardened criminals like my sister."

Daisy turned to Heather as they watched River bond with Conrad. "Riv grew up with a house full of sisters, but I think he always secretly wanted a brother."

When Conrad left to get the car, River turned to Heather. "I recognize the way he looks at you, and he's not going anywhere unless you tell him to. I know you like to think you're better off single, protecting your independence, but he's the guy who's perfect for you. You and Conrad finding each other is one in a million, like the day I met Cassandra. He's your Cassandra."

(Can confirm, Jane Simsten's Soulmates mod kicked in for these two way back on the night they ran into each other with Holly and Kris in San Myshuno, but Heather's unflirty and she's been burned in the past, so it's had to be this way. I'm sorry!)

River's beautiful wife gazed at him with love while he spoke. They were so sweet together, and their love used to make Heather feel like she was missing out. Now she had Conrad, who was as close to perfect as anyone she'd ever met, and she couldn't shake her insecurities.

"I know raising Ash with his father isn't easy and you're afraid to get hurt again," River said. "But that is a guy who's waiting for you to say 'I love you' so he can say it, too."

Neal frowned. "Huck, you don't know that. Don't test your sister's emotions-"

"I do know that, and I'd die on Old Mill Hill defending that take!"

"He makes me so happy," Heather admitted. "But what if he moves in and I find out he's a criminal mastermind masquerading as a detective?"

"Then you're even more perfect for each other than I thought."

Heather couldn’t deny her feelings for Conrad, as afraid as she was to put them into words and make them real.

Despite her fears, she was grateful for her family's approval, and she embraced her brother warmly when Conrad brought his car around. ->

<- Previous Chapter | Gen 2 Start | Gen 1 Summary | Gen 1 Start

NOTE: This got it's own post because Conrad and River literally said hello to each other and were basically best friends (they became official best friends later, when it mattered for Conrad's Friend of the World aspiration. tbh by then I thought they already were but either something glitched or broke with the Lovestruck patches or I never bothered and forgot). Their instant bromance felt so right - River looks up to his older sister and wants the best for her even though he can't help but tease her, and he and Conrad are both responsible guys focused on bettering their communities. It's a perfect match and I loved this development.

[devoted-horror]

giving the new survivor hatch.

a/n: this is my first time writing for dbd in general, so!! i hope i do this game justice bc i play it every day lol

includes: the huntress, the trickster, the ghostface, the artist, the cannibal.

warnings: not proofread, typical dbd stuff like blood, mentions of murder, things like that, gn reader, love at first sight but only if u tilt ur head and squint really hard, inconsistent length, im going to be so delusional over jiwoon im sorry, i can't speak russian or korean so i just used a bunch of translators sorry if i got smth wrong, inaccurate behavior of dbd crows but relatively accurate behavior of irl crows i think, scream reference in danny's part bc i had to, reader injury in jiwoon and danny's parts, written over the course of a few months so sorry if the pacing is weird.

THE HUNTRESS

Anna has been in the fog long enough that every face of everyone she's ever killed has started to merge together into one. She doesn't know their names, and hardly ever reacts whenever she encounters a new survivor.

Mercy is not something she shows during trials. She is a hunter, and anyone who crosses her path, be it man or animal, is her prey. Nothing in the wild is merciful.

And you were nothing more than another person for her to hunt, prey for her to kill. And trust me, she was going to kill you.

Or, at least, she was.

And then you dropped a pallet on her. Now, normally, Anna would get very angry when this happens. Her prey is fighting back, and though it gives her a thrill, it's annoying. And for a brief moment, she did feel angry the moment the pallet hit her.

But then you were apologizing, a look of genuine guilt on your expression. You even asked if she was bleeding. Your survival instincts were lacking, clearly, but Anna found that to be... oddly endearing??

She felt a surge of protectiveness spark within her, something she had never felt during her time here. It was a familiar feeling, yet one so foreign at the same time.

But how could she not feel such a way when you were staring up at her, clearly scared that she was going to hurt you yet brave enough to stand in front of her and apologize for something that, by all means, you should have done.

Anna just stares you down for a long moment, having an internal struggle with herself on what she should do with you. Ultimately, her need to protect overruled her need to hunt, because after breaking the pallet between the two of you, she made a gesture for you to follow her.

And, not wanting to die, you did.

She took you to a shack, something you've heard other survivors refer to as the killer shack. The only reason you knew this is because you were told to stay away from it unless you wanted to get put in the basement.

She just pointed to one of the corners of the building, and looked over at you, "Оставайся здесь." And you didn't immediately understand her, though you were quick to pick up on what she was telling you. It seemed as if she wanted you to stay here.

Your safest bet on surviving was doing what she said, so you just nod and awkwardly place yourself in the corner she had been pointing at. She doesn't spare you another glance as she leaves you alone.

You're not sure how long you stayed there. You could hear the other survivors screams though, and you felt sick to your stomach at the sound of them being hooked and sacrificed to the Entity. They probably won't be too happy about this the next time you see them...

It was only when you were the last one standing that Anna came back to retrieve you. She found you exactly where she had left you, and even though you couldn't see her face due to the rabbit mask, she seemed rather pleased that you had actually listened to her.

If she had it her way, Anna would keep you by her side. Unfortunately, it doesn't work like that. The Entity would probably force the trial to end if you didn't either escape or die.

She begrudgingly brought you to hatch, the black mist pouring from it, silently promising safety if you jumped into it. You stared at it, confused about what it was, and that protectiveness she was feeling only seemed to grow stronger when you looked up at her for an explanation. The only explanation she offered was a slight gesture to you, and then the hatch.

"Иди, кролик." She says, lightly pushing you to the hatch and watching as you hesitantly decide to trust her, jumping into the hatch and leaving her alone as the fog comes and places her back in the Red Forest.

If she's lucky, she'll be in a trial with you again soon.

THE TRICKSTER

He'll immediately recognize you to be new. He prides himself in recognizing every survivor he's encountered, either by their face or by the sound of their screams. Mostly their screams.

And he certainly didn't recognize the scream he heard when one of his throwing knives ricocheted and hit you while he was chasing down another one of the newer survivors; Sable. It was a small, startled scream, nothing worth his attention, but it was new. That was enough to make this trial more exciting, and he found himself keeping his eyes peeled for you.

Which... was a lot easier than he expected it to be, because you just kept running right into him. Seriously. Did you not pay attention to your surroundings? Do you think he's a survivor?? Do you not see the bloodied fucking bat he's holding???

He's not sure if he's annoyed or amused by this. Partially both, to be honest. It's amusing to see you relax for a split second after bumping into him, not recognizing him to be the killer immediately. It's annoying because he'd like to hear you scream, please and thank you.

Jiwoon doesn't necessarily target you during the trial. To be honest, he's trying to weed out the other survivors before focusing his attention on you.

He wanted to take his time with you, to see what sounds he could pull out of you before the Entity forced the trial to end. Just the sound of you gasping whenever you bump into him has his mind racing.

This was honestly enough to keep him motivated throughout the entire trial, a certain bloodlust sparking in him. He relished the sound of everyone else's screams, but they weren't appealing to him right now.

He needed the other survivors out of the way. He needed you alone. And when he finally got rid of the last pesky survivor, the fun began.

And when he corners you in killer shack, he really didn't plan on being merciful. He wanted to hear you scream, and then he wanted to kill you, really. That was his plan.

The only way you'd get out of this alive is if you beg, honestly. And I mean beg. On your knees, crying, pleading, offering something in return for your survival. That sort of begging.

You were new and shiny in comparison to all of the other survivors, and maybe it's because he's a sadistic bastard, but he really does adore the sight of you on your knees, crying as he absently nicks your skin with one of his throwing knives.

This is where Jiwoon feels a bit torn, truth be told. He's never been a patient man, so he wants to get as many screams out of you as he can before the Entity forced the trial to end. But at the same time, he knew he'd see you again in a future trial, sooner or later.

It wouldn't hurt to prolong his time with you, would it?

The entire time he's pondering this, he's dragging the blade across your skin, relishing in the sweet sounds of your gasps and whimpers, and you stutter out a desperate 'please'.

Ultimately, Jiwoon decides to be nice, just this once. He'll mutter a quiet, "짜증나..." before hoisting you over his shoulder and carrying you off.

You struggled, obviously, assuming he was ending your misery and taking you to a hook. He didn't really mind much, having an iron grasp on you that kept you from wiggling free.

He dropped you right next to the hatch once he found it, finding your small pained sound to be adorable as you look at your salvation with a confused expression. But before you can crawl into it and escape, he's grabbing you by the back of your shirt and pulling you back a bit.

For a moment, you think he's going to kill you, and you squeeze your eyes shut, expecting pain. But nothing comes. You feel him tuck something in your shirt, and he lightly pats your cheek, cooing a bit at your terror before he lets you go and leaves you alone.

And when you're back at the campfire, you find a photo of Jiwoon neatly folded and tucked into your shirt, signed with his autograph.

He'll have an encore the next time he sees you, and you can only hope you don't find yourself in a trial with him again any time soon.

THE GHOSTFACE

Would actually never give you hatch under normal circumstances. He's here to kill, so kill he shall. He treated you the same as any other survivor when he first saw you, though it wasn't until he was in chase with you that he realized how interesting you were.

For one, you were... surprisingly good at looping him?? For a newbie, he was rather impressed. That's not enough to get him to let you live, but it's definitely a start.

No, his interest is only truly piqued when you start quoting horror movies during chase.

Honestly, if he didn't know any better, he'd think you to be flirting with him. A person after his heart, truly.

It was only when he had you cornered that you really caught his attention. You weren't scared, and it intrigued him as much as it annoyed him.

He was just itching to dig his knife into you and take a photo of your lifeless corpse once he was finished. But even with your life at risk, you showed no fear.

Hell, you even mocked him.

"No, please don't kill me, Mr. Ghostface, I wanna be in the sequel."

Sure, you weren't the first survivor to mock him, and you certainly won't be the last, but he found you interesting.

Oh, he needed to kill you. He needed your photo in his collection, it would be his favorite.

But he thought it would be more fun to humor you. Danny was a patient man. This isn't the first time he's drawn out a kill.

You were honestly surprised that he had left you alone. You didn't think that would actually work, and you were... a bit concerned, actually. None of the other killers you had ended up in a trial with during your short time here has entertained you the way Danny has, and you're not sure if you should be scared or not.

And, much to your very hesitant relief, you didn't see him for the rest of the trial. You knew he was watching you though. Every once in a while, you just felt... you're not quite sure how to describe it, but it almost felt as if you were being hunted.

You'd see him from the corner of your eye though. Never for long, just quick flashes of his screaming mask. Honestly, you felt less scared when he was actively trying to murder you.

That's how the rest of the trial went for you, at least. Until eventually, you were the only one left standing. You may be new, but the other survivors had given you the rundown of what to do if you were the last one standing before the trial had started.

You had to find hatch. Which was... easier said than done, truthfully. Especially since you weren't sure where the fuck Danny was. There's no way he was letting you go, right? He's probably saving you for last, right?

Whenever you so much as caught a glimpse of something moving, you were scurrying in the other direction.

This is pretty much Danny's way of giving you hatch. There's no way he'd give it to you directly, not yet.

You had honestly thought you had found it all by yourself until you were fucking stabbed, the flash of a camera in your face blinding you.

Truth be told, Danny did plan on killing you. He had wanted to give you a false sense of hope. But your stupid little smile when you saw hatch got to him, okay? So he'll settle for this for now.

"You owe me."

And he doesn't even spare you a glance as he pushes you into the hatch's mist, his gaze intently focused on the photo of you he had just taken.

Unfortunately for you, you've caught his attention.

THE ARTIST

Carmina is one of the more merciful killers you may come across, so she'd be fairly likely to give a new survivor hatch depending on how the trial has gone and whether or not she's consumed by anger.

She only realizes that you're new to the fog when her crows surround you and you don't try shooing them away. When she finds you, you're actually... rather content having a murder of crows surrounding you.

Very very confused. She'll probably just stare at you for a hot second as you go about the trial without a single care for the crows swarming around you. Even the crows are confused.

You distract her long enough with your antics that a good chunk of the gens pop, and she had to force herself to leave you be in order to focus on hunting the other survivors.

She'll ignore you for the entire trial after she leaves you be. Her crows can keep watch for her.

So for the rest of the trial she's only vaguely aware of your location, occasionally stopping once in a while to determine whether or not her crows were still with you. They were.

Even the other survivors seemed confused by your behavior.

On the rare occasion that she bumped into you during the trial, it was always when another survivor was nearby trying to tell you how to get rid of the crows.

You never even tried to shoo away the crows throughout the entire trial, and at some point, they stopped swarming around you. They didn't go away, no. You, somehow, managed to tame Carmina's crows with little trinkets that you found littered across the place.

Honestly, the crows seemed to like you enough that even if Carmina told them to hurt you, they probably wouldn't listen to her. It's hard to believe that you were a new survivor with how calm you were about everything happening.

It's probably that calm nature, coupled with your ability to calm her crows, that solidified in her mind that you were the only one who would make it out alive.

And with a newfound determination, Carmina sacrificed the other three survivors with no issues, and she could hear hatch opening not too far away from her.

With the help of her crows, Carmina was able to easily bring you to hatch, and she could only tilt her head to the side and make a small, croaking sound as you smiled and thanked both her and her crows before jumping into the hatch.

This is one of the many moments Carmina laments no longer being able to create art. She'd love to immortalize the image of you smiling at her, surrounded by her crows.

THE CANNIBAL

Bubba is honestly torn when he spots you, because you look so afraid, cowering in fear at every little sound and struggling to repair a generator like the others had told you to. He understands your fear because it's something he's very familiar with.

And while he has a job to do, not wanting to disappoint the Entity, he can't help but find it hard to hurt you. No matter how hard it was, Bubba had no choice.

But when he approached you, you didn't run. Sure, you let out a startled shout, the generator blowing up in your face as you stared up at him like a scared animal, quietly begging him not to hurt you.

But you didn't run.

How could he hurt you when you weren't running from him? Everyone always ran. But not you. You weren't running from him, and he didn't know what to do about that.

Bubba's trouble was so very evident. He's always been an expressive person, so it wasn't hard to tell that this was stressing him out. His free hand kept clenching and unclenching his apron, and he kept making small noises in the back of his throat.

He doesn't want to disappoint the Entity, he doesn't. But he's not sure if he can hurt someone who's not running from him. You aren't running! He really likes that! The only people who never ran when he was around were his family!

The nail in the coffin is when you, even despite your fear, took a chance and set down the toolbox you were holding. You... you gave him a gift. Not one that he could use, but a gift nonetheless.

There was literally no way he could hurt you now the guilt would eat him alive. So, he just opts to leave you be to instead focus on the other survivors. He wouldn't feel guilty hurting them.

The entire trial, Bubba focuses all of his attention on getting rid of the other survivors. If he sees you, he gets all nervous and can't even look at you for long without babbling incoherently before scurrying away.

Some of the other survivors may pick up on Bubba's strange avoidment of you, and may even use that to their advantage by running by you in chase because Bubba just... he can't hurt you, I'm sorry.

He's swinging his chainsaw, and then suddenly Kate is running by you and he's coming to a full stop out of fear of accidentally hurting you.

It really stresses him out, and even though you're still scared of him, and even though he's supposed to be killing you, you can't help but feel bad. So whenever the other survivors got a little too close when Bubba was chasing them, you always made sure to stay out of his way.

It's okay to be a bad teammate because it's Bubba.

Jokes aside, Bubba takes his job as a killer very seriously. He may avoid hurting you, but he makes quick work of the other survivors.

And when hatch opened right next to Bubba after killing the third survivor, he took it as a sign from the Entity that he was meant to give it to you. Why else would it open next to him?

Bubba was ever the gentleman when he brought you to hatch, guiding you to it carefully and making sure you didn't trip on any debris littered across the area.

He even scared off a few judgmental crows! He knew how off-putting it was to have them watching you all the time, especially when you're new in the fog.

And when you quietly thank him, smiling at him as if he weren't a killer, Bubba was just over the moon.

It's been so long since he's had someone to protect. The fog is a scary place to be but he'll do his best to make it a happy place whenever you two are in a trial together.

Оставайся здесь. - Stay here. Иди, кролик. - Go, rabbit. 짜증나. - How annoying.

[toastsnaffler]

ykw actually I am angry + disappointed w them. I've been pushing how I feel aside and trying to make it my own fault so it's all contained but I think theyve just been mean. and they really should know me better ik I try to pretend I don't expect more from them so I feel less hurt when they do things that upset me but we've been friends for years by this point. like come on.

[causalitylinked]

WHICH RAGE LANGUAGE ARE YOU?

open the floodgates.

your frustration turns into tears quickly. the strength of your fury is so potent that it sets off the waterworks out of pure rage. you hate it, because whoever's pissed you off thinks it's funny, like you're not tough and you can't defend yourself. you can, you just need to get through the haze of emotions first.

TAGGED BY: @ofliminalities​ ( thank you for the mention! <3333 perhaps one day, i’ll try to be more active. )

TAGGING: @heraid / @hembralfa / @spiritpyro ( hayate and rokuro! ) / @lastgenesis​ / @fractalle / @aaternum / @crimsontroupe ( equinox ) and whoever else would like to do this!

[seilon]

jesus christ I feel like shit

[beware-thecrow]

But we are constantly seeing said villains killing or trying to kill people. How many thousands does Tomura have to kill before Izuku accepts that he needs to die? How many people does Toga have to stab before Ochako accepts that she's too far gone to be saved? Toga is Horikoshi's mary sue waifu and she just killed uraraka

Anon....i don't know how to tell you this without being rude but...i don't give a fuck about BNHA civilians and i'll tell you why. I do give to you the fact that Toga is not a good character, i don't like her on her own either, and i like Ochako, so if she kills Ochako kinda sucks. I also think Tomura will die at the end of the manga because there is no way to help him achieve real peace and allowing him to have a real fulfilling life after what he's done, but the true question BNHA brings is "does a society what breeds these type of inequality and violence deserves to live?" "Is there any real difference between keeping a status quo that condemns mentally ill people with undesireable quirks to violence and condemning the well adjusted civillians to violence." and "Is it worth to keep the heroes as a tool of oppression when their violence innevitably will create villains who oppress too" Hori has made the point that heroes are rich, that they get payed by the goverment to keep the "peace". So tecnically you have a society that relies on keeping a sector of the population marginalized to justify the existence of heroes, all while the money spent on them could be used to actually integrate said people socially. AfO just used this stupid loophole to create an empire of crime right under the hero commission's nose. After all, if you look at it carefully, the story tells you that heroes appeared to control the rise of crime because of quirks, and yet the problem only got worst over the years, which has lead to shit ton of professional heroes alongside schools, programs, even breeding plans, you name it. And then you should ask "is this actually helping?" And then you have Tomura, orphan, groomed, traumatized, ill and unstable checking all the boxes for the worst luck, pointing out that all these problems exist because heroes thrive on it. All while civillians have totally wash their own responsability to those who needs them, condemning the marginalized to violence themselves. After all it wasn't the heroes the ones who attacked Tomura as a child and let him live under a bridge, it wasn't the heroes the ones that pushed Toga into a rampage because of her quirk. It wasn't the heroes the ones who misstreated Twice for being sick or created Yakuza empires that experimented on Eri or the ones that discriminated Spinner for his looks. It was the civillians. So...again, anon. Why should we readers care about a bunch of people who are responsible for the evil they face?

[always-a-slut-4-ghouls]

On the one hand I think it would be really funny if one of my posts blew up, but on the other hand I’d be more self conscious and I am almost certain that people would be annoying with me about veganism. There are literally blogs dedicated to countering dumb arguments and they are so much more eloquent than me. Acti-veg is right there you don’t need to pester me about it, they can word things a million times better than my clumsy ass. I don’t even post about veganism 24/7. It’s in my description because I do post about it, but i reblog memes more than anything else. I do wish I was better at debating for the sake of all the important things I care about. I care about humans as well, and no, those two aren’t mutually exclusive, I say this to people who resist animal rights because they think you can’t do that and care about human rights AND to vegans who, understandably, have become very disillusioned with the current dominant human cultures and outlooks on the treatments of animals. It’s always hard when you see something that is everywhere and is fucked up. It can be hard to not feel only bitterness and despair. For people who aren’t vegan, it could be compared to realizing how fucked up capitalism is and being surrounded by people who defend the system, even people who are hurt by it (so, real life). I can point people in the direction of others who are better at communicating (whenever I have a singular person who comes to mind first, so many things have so many people that I have trouble thinking of just one. Veganism is so weirdly shit upon on this website though that I can think of blogs specifically dedicated to it with far more ease) I didn’t decide to just go vegan on a whim. Going vegetarian was an easy choice to me, but the culture of using animals is so ubiquitous that I myself resisted veganism for quite awhile. This didn’t pop out of nowhere. I gradually noticed things until I went “what I’m doing is actually pretty fucked up and I can stop doing so many of these things” to minimize the amount of harm you do whenever it’s possible and can be done in practice. It’s not some crazy definition, it’s not some unattainable philosophy to do your best to live by, the official definition doesn’t say “stop taking your medication” but you can try to buy things without animal products or testing when I comes to like, shampoo. If you are like “but I don’t have options when it comes to shampoo!” Is there literally anything else you can change? That is what it’s about. The thing is, a lot of people can change more than they expect they can. I can’t show up at your house, look through your budget, check every store you can shop at, but if you can do even a little of that some time, you are at least doing better and are closer to doing everything you can in your own life. If you want to get more defensive and go “what about this person who isn’t me” or “what about this thing I haven’t really thought about for more than a literal minute” whatever it is, it has probably been addressed by someone who actually has a better way with words than me. I won’t just shut up about everything I care about, but I won’t pretend that whatever it is hasn’t already been addressed by a million people who are better than me, and you just don’t care enough to listen to them.

This has turned into me rambling but I am so so tired of encountering the same arguments a million times by people who think that they have some hot new take, and I know I’d have so many people doing that if I got more popular on main. I don’t really mind more people finding me funny or being exposed to a new idea by seeing something I’ve posted or shared, but I am fucking tired of being expected to be some professional or even amateur debater because I care about something and share that person’s post. I know some people are going to dismiss me because of that, but it has already been addressed by a million people better at doing it than me, and whoever is talking to me probably wouldn’t even listen to that anyway. It’s like someone asking you about “why is capitalism bad” and you have seen whatever they throw at you hundreds of times and you know a fuck tonne of people have already explained why capitalism bad. It’s just that whoever it is wants you, just some guy, to explain it and explain it better than you, a random meme guy who cares about things but isn’t practiced in explaining more than the definition of an English word or something.

[gibbearish]

oh no im remembering why i liked sebastian so much my first time through

[racefortheironthrone]

Hi- er, this is my first-ever writer's strike, how does one not cross a picket line in this context? I know how not to do it with things like Amazon and IRL strikes, but how does it apply to media/streaming?

Hi, this is a great question, because it allows me to write about the difference between honoring a picket line and a boycott. (This is reminding me of the labor history podcast project that's lain fallow in my drafts folder for some time now...) In its simplest formulation, the difference between a picket line and a boycott is that a picket line targets an employer at the point of production (which involves us as workers), whereas a boycott targets an employer at the point of consumption (which involves us as consumers).

So in the case of the WGA strike, this means that at any company that is being struck by the WGA - I've seen Netflix, Amazon, Apple, Disney, Warner Brothers Discovery, NBC, Paramount, and Sony mentioned, but there may be more (check the WGA website and social media for a comprehensive list) - you do not cross a picket line, whether physical or virtual. This means you do not take a meeting with them, even if its a pre-existing project, you do not take phone calls or texts or emails or Slacks from their executives, you do not pitch them on a spec script you've written, and most of all you do not answer any job application.

Because if this strike is like any strike since the dawn of time, you will see the employers put out ads for short-term contracts that will be very lucrative, generally above union scale - because what they're paying for in addition to your labor is you breaking the picket line and damaging the strike - to anyone willing to scab against their fellow workers. GIven that one of the main issues of the WGA are the proliferation of short-term "mini rooms" whereby employers are hiring teams of writers to work overtime for a very short period, to the point where they can only really do the basics (a series outline, some "broken stories," and some scripts) and then have the showrunner redo everything on their lonesome, while not paying writers long-term pay and benefits, I would imagine we're going to see a lot of scab contracts being offered for these mini rooms.

But for most of us, unless we're actively working as writers in Hollywood, most of that isn't going to be particularly relevant to our day-to-day working lives. If you're not a professional or aspiring Hollywood writer, the important thing to remember honoring the picket line doesn't mean the same thing as a boycott. WGA West hasn't called on anyone to stop going to the movies or watching tv/streaming or to cancel their streaming subscriptions or anything like that. If and when that happens, WGA will go to some lengths to publicize that ask - and you should absolutely honor it if you can - so there will be little in the way of ambiguity as to what's going on.

That being said, one of the things that has happened in the past in other strikes is that well-intentioned people get it into their heads to essentially declare wildcat (i.e, unofficial and unsanctioned) boycotts. This kind of stuff comes from a good place, someone wanting to do more to support the cause and wanting to avoid morally contaminating themselves by associating with a struck company, but it can have negative effects on the workers and their unions. Wildcat boycotts can harm workers by reducing back-end pay and benefits they get from shows if that stuff is tied to the show's performance, and wildcat boycotts can hurt unions by damaging negotiations with employers that may or may not be going on.

The important thing to remember with all of this is that the strike is about them, not us. Part of being a good ally is remembering to let the workers' voices be heard first and prioritizing being a good listener and following their lead, rather than prioritizing our feelings.

[punkshort]

Have A Good Night

Pairing: Joel Miller x f!reader

Summary: Every week like clockwork, the same devastatingly handsome man comes into the grocery store where you work to buy flowers. It's not until he asks you out when you realize the flowers aren't for his wife or girlfriend.

Warnings: no outbreak AU, language, flirting, alcohol and food consumption, smut (18+ MDNI), protected piv sex, size kink, shy!joel, fluff, mutual pining, cringy/embarrassing crush interactions

WC: 7.9K

Written for @morallyinept's Flora & Fauna Challenge (masterlist here)

dividers by the one and only @saradika-graphics

It was never roses that he bought. That should have been your first clue.

Every Friday he came through your checkout lane with a beautiful flower arrangement. Sometimes it was lilies, sometimes it was daffodils, but never roses.

He hardly spared you a glance when he slid his card through the machine. Occasionally he would comment about the weather or how busy the store was, but he rarely ever made eye contact.

It wasn't unusual and it didn't offend you. Most customers had other things on their minds and they preferred to get in and out of the store as quickly as possible. But this particular customer, the one with dark hair and eyes, broad shoulders and patchy beard always caught your eye. It was the best part of your week. You never had the nerve to say anything to him, but your friend Andy noticed the way you always got nervous when you saw him standing in line, how your demeanor shifted and your hands shook just a little bit.

He's not wearing a ring, Andy pointed out one day as you counted your drawer. You rolled your eyes.

That doesn't mean anything, you replied. Why else would he be buying flowers?

Then one day, as you scanned your handsome stranger's flowers, you noticed a few of the daisies were wilting.

"Do you want to pick out a different bouquet?" you had mustered up the courage to ask. The store was quiet, no one was lined up behind him. There was a big football game that night and it kept most people at home.

His eyes snapped up to yours and he froze like a deer in the headlights. You raised your eyebrows, waiting for an answer while trying to think if you said something stupid to warrant such a delayed reaction. "A few of these flowers are already dying. See?" You tilted the bouquet in his direction so he could see the flowers with the petals that were turning brown.

"Oh," he finally said, then nodded his head. "Y-yeah, thanks. D'you mind if I just-" he jutted his thumb over his shoulder.

"It's no big deal, I'll wait."

He gave you a crooked grin and disappeared back into the store. The florist department wasn't far from the registers but it was enough time for Andy to lock eyes with you from customer service and give you a look. You rolled your eyes at him and turned back around just as the hot flower guy was returning with a new selection.

"Thanks," he said again once you handed him his receipt. He didn't make a move to leave.

"Don't mention it," you replied, feeling Andy's stupid grin burning into the back of your head the longer hot flower guy stood there.

"Have you worked here long?" he asked after a brief silence that was bordering on uncomfortable. You blinked, taken aback at the random question and tried to ignore your heart fluttering excitedly in your chest.

"Um, just over four years," you replied. His beautiful dark eyes drifted over your face as he nodded and swallowed before looking back down at his flowers.

"You work most Fridays?"

You could feel your cheeks warming up and you wished the ground would open up and swallow you whole. How can someone be embarrassed for being embarrassed? Jesus, you were such a mess.

"Yep," you said, tucking a stray piece of hair behind your ear and praying he didn't notice how flushed you were.

He rubbed the back of his neck and shifted his weight. If you weren't so absorbed in your own uneasiness you might have noticed he was acting just as uncomfortable as you.

When he opened his mouth to say something else, a middle aged woman pushed her cart up behind him and began to unload her groceries onto the belt. He glanced quickly over his shoulder and nervously swiped his palm over his mouth.

"Have a good night," he told you abruptly, and before you had a chance to reply he was halfway to the front door.

The following week was busier and you lost track of time. Typically, as your shift dragged on, you began to anticipate his arrival but on that particular day, you were distracted. Andy ended up having to help out on another register, it was so busy.

"You wanna come out with us tonight?" Andy asked you over his shoulder. He was closing down the extra register while you were finishing up with a young mom who had her hands full wrangling her toddler away from the candy.

"Uh, yeah, sure," you agreed absentmindedly, lifting the last paper bag into the cart. You tapped a key on your register so she could slide her card through the reader and looked over at Andy. "Where are you guys going?"

"Murray's," he replied immediately, his focus still on counting the coins in the drawer. You rolled your eyes and grinned.

"Why am I not surprised?"

It was well known Andy harbored a huge crush on a bartender there and he had been trying to work up the courage for months to ask for her number.

"Thank you, have a good night," you told the young woman, handing over her receipt with a smile. When you glanced up to greet your next customer, you felt your heart skip a beat when you were met with those dark brown eyes you had grown so enamored with.

"It must be later than I thought," you said, without even thinking twice. Surprise passed over his beautiful features as you scanned his flowers and then your nerves finally caught up with you. "I-I mean, you usually come in around the same time every week," you explained hurriedly. Andy was smirking at you from behind hot flower guy's broad shoulder and you made a mental note to punch him later.

"I didn't realize you noticed," he replied after he cleared his throat.

Oh, you idiot. You could tell you made him uncomfortable with your comment and you just prayed he didn't figure out you had been lusting after him all these months with the little observation you made.

"You always pick out the best flower arrangements, it's hard not to," Andy piped up. Relief flooded your veins for the save. Maybe you should rethink that punch. "Must be one lucky girl," he added with a mischievous wink in your direction before picking up the drawer and walking towards the office, leaving just the two of you with Andy's loaded comment hanging heavy in the air.

He took his time pulling his credit card out of his wallet, wracking his brain for something to say. His cheeks dusted with pink the longer he took to formulate a sentence.

"So... Murray's, huh?" he asked, cringing inwardly at the stupid question as he swiped his card.

You blinked, confused at the change in topic until it clicked. "Oh, yeah. He drags a bunch of us out after work sometimes because he's got a thing for a girl who works there." You gave the man behind hot flower guy a smile as he unloaded his groceries on the belt.

Your handsome stranger froze, his hand still holding the receipt midair while the gears turned in his head.

"So, you two aren't-"

"Oh, sorry, excuse me," the customer behind him mumbled when he accidentally bumped into him with his cart.

"Have a good night," you told him with a sweet smile, then quickly turned away, hoping your hair would hide your embarrassment.

"I am not playing darts with her! Don't you remember last time? She almost took my eye out!"

"Oh, shut the fuck up!" you laughed, shoving Courtney, another co-worker of yours, in the shoulder. There were only five of you that night, Courtney being the only other girl in your group, but you were fine with that. Over the past few years you all bonded over the shared trauma of nasty customers and terrible management to the point where you were like family, and nights where you blew off steam only brought you closer together.

"Anyone need anything? I'm heading up," Andy shouted over the live band.

"Didn't you just get a water a minute ago?" you teased, knowing full well he was looking for an excuse to talk to the bartender.

"What can I say? I'm thirsty," Andy replied with a smirk before pushing his way through the crowd to get to the bar.

"When the hell's he just gonna ask her out? We've been coming here for months," Courtney said, turning away from the bar to look at you. You took a sip from your mixed drink and shrugged.

"Probably for the best. You know if he makes things weird then we'll need to find a new spot to hang out."

She giggled and winced when the band began to sing Journey off-key. "God, these guys are... not it."

"I think it's the owner's way of making us drink more!" James shouted from across the table, the four of you dissolving into laughter. He had a good point because your drink was nearly empty.

"Why didn't you just have Andy get you one?" Courtney asked when you slid down from your barstool.

"If I did, there was, like, a one percent chance he would bring it back to me within the hour," you told her, nodding towards Andy setting up shop against the bar, his eyes trailing after the cute bartender.

It took several minutes but you were finally able to wedge yourself between other patrons and secure a refill of your drink, but when you turned around to walk back to your table you nearly ran right into someone's chest.

"Oh! Sorry, I - " your eyes widened when you tilted your head up to find those familiar brown eyes staring down at you. "It-it's you!" you finally said as the shock began to wear off. He gave you a lopsided grin and nodded.

"Joel," he offered, sticking his hand out. Joel. Joel. Joel. You rolled his name around in your head like a ping pong ball. It suited him.

You took his hand, his long fingers dwarfing yours. "I'm-"

Then he cut you off and said your name and once again, you struggled to keep the shock from your face. "Your nametag," he explained, letting your hand go and gesturing towards his own chest where a nametag would sit. "I remember."

"Yeah," you said breathlessly with a smile. You glanced around the room while people shoved past you to get to the bar. "What are you doing here?"

His smile faltered a bit and he rubbed the back of his neck. "I don't live too far. Had the night to myself so I came out with my brother. He's over there," Joel pointed to the opposite corner of the bar but it was impossible to see him through all the people.

"Oh, cool," you nodded and took a sip from your glass. His eyes drifted to your lips, getting lost in the way they puckered around the straw. "Do you guys come here a lot?"

He chuckled and dropped his chin shyly to his chest before shaking his head. "No, um," he cleared his throat and looked back up at you. "Was hopin' I would run into you, actually."

"Me?" you squeaked and your heart began to race. He nodded and grinned.

"Yeah. Wondered if maybe you'd-"

A huge, burly man who definitely had too much to drink shouldered past you, accidentally shoving you into Joel's chest. His arms immediately wrapped around your ribs to steady you and somehow you didn't spill anything on his clothes.

"God, I'm sorry," you mumbled, his scent making you dizzy. You always had a register between you. Never before had you been that close, noticing he smelled like he had just gotten out of the shower and it was instantly overwhelming.

"It's alright," he said, his arms still loosely wrapped around your midsection. "But I gotta get this out before I lose my nerve, darlin'."

Darlin'. Your brows furrowed and before you could reply, he spoke. "I wondered if you wanted to go out on a date sometime? Maybe a movie or somethin'? I know you work alotta nights but I -"

"You want to go out with me?" you asked in disbelief. He looked at you like you had two heads.

"'Course I do. Wasn't it obvious?" he could feel the heat creeping up his neck.

"No! I thought... nevermind, it doesn't matter," you told him, a smile pulling across your lips. "Yes, I would love to. God, if you only knew-" you stopped yourself by slapping your hand over your mouth and he quirked a playful eyebrow at you but he was too excited that you agreed to go out with him to ask you to finish your thought. He handed you his phone as you shakily typed in your number, hoping your trembling fingers didn't mess it up before giving it back to him.

"I'm gonna text you tomorrow, set somethin' up, yeah?" he asked and you nodded numbly, your mind reeling as you tried to process everything that was happening. He grinned and slid his phone back into his pocket. "Have a good night," he said, the familiar phrase making you smile before disappearing into the crowd.

"Um, who the hell was that?" Courtney questioned the second you arrived back at your table.

"I need a fucking shot first and then I'll tell you, holy shit," you said, taking a deep breath to calm your nerves with no success. She laughed and got you each tequila shots, then you spent the rest of the night telling her all about Joel the hot flower guy.

The next morning, you paid for your crimes. Your head throbbed and your mouth was dry as sand as you stumbled into your bathroom to scoop water from the faucet, desperately trying to quench your thirst. You weren't normally a huge drinker, but after your run-in with Joel, you were so nervous that you found yourself tossing back a few extra drinks than normal. Fortunately, you didn't work until late afternoon, so after you fumbled around your cupboards for some crackers, you fell back into bed. Your eyes widened when you saw a missed text from an unsaved number an hour ago.

Hey, it's Joel. It was great running into you last night. I was thinking we could go to dinner this week, if you're still up for it. What nights are you free?

"Shit," you muttered, running a hand anxiously through your hair. Now that you were sober, the prospect of seeing hot flower guy outside of work made you inexplicably nervous.

You must have typed out and deleted fifteen responses before going with I would love to! I'm free Sunday, Monday and Wednesday nights. Or we could do something after I get out of work, we close at nine.

Did you sound too desperate? You chewed on your fingernail as you read your sent text over and over, then shrugged and put your phone down. Too late now, anyway.

It took a while to get his response, but to be fair, you didn't reply to him for an hour.

I can make Sunday work.

Sunday? As in, tomorrow?

"Oh, fuck," you groaned, fully not expecting him to set something up so quickly. You needed time to mentally prepare, but of course you agreed, then quickly texted Courtney, begging for her help on what to wear and how to do your hair.

Yay!! We can talk about it at work tonight!

After you ironed out a time and restaurant with Joel, you popped two pain relievers and chugged some water, hoping to get rid of your hangover before work.

"Okay, so where's he taking you?" Courtney asked excitedly as you stocked cereal together.

"This Italian place on Westwood. Here, I looked it up," you said, pulling out your phone and showing her the menu. "Have you been there before? What do I wear?"

She squinted at your screen and shook her head. "I haven't been there but we can figure this out. It doesn't look that fancy, but you should probably wear a dress or skirt."

"Ooo, do you finally have yourself a date?" Andy asked from halfway down the aisle, clearly overhearing part of your conversation. "Hot flower guy is going to be so disappointed."

You laughed and pocketed your phone. "It's with hot flower guy," you said triumphantly. Andy's eyes bugged out of his head, confused, until you and Courtney explained what happened the night before when he was busy staring at the bartender.

"You should have told me last night! So I guess that means he really is single."

You paused and cocked your head to the side, realizing all of the sudden you still didn't know why he bought flowers every Friday.

"Uh, yeah, I guess so," you replied, turning your attention back to the cereal. Andy and Courtney exchanged worried glances behind your back.

"I'm sure he's not stupid enough to buy flowers from you for another woman every week and then ask you out," Courtney said, glaring at Andy. He cleared his throat and nodded.

"Y-yeah, I mean, maybe they're for a grave or something."

You both turned to him and gave him an incredulous look.

"Hey, I'm just trying to help," he said, throwing up his hands and walking away. You bit your lip and glanced at Courtney.

"Don't worry about it. There's tons of reasons why guys would buy flowers weekly... maybe he just likes to have fresh flowers in the house. Maybe they're for his mom!"

"Yeah, good point. I bet they're for his mom," you agreed, feeling a little better as you ripped open the next cardboard box full of cereal boxes.

When you woke on Sunday morning, you were already nervous. You could have sworn your heart was slamming in your chest from the moment you opened your eyes, already overthinking your date with Joel.

You spent the afternoon texting Courtney pictures of outfits you hauled out of your closet and tossed on your bed, then decided you needed to try them on for her to get the full effect. You were sitting on your bed, wearing a light blue sundress, the last outfit you had tried on as you gathered your pictures. Your thumb quickly tapped all of the photos of you modeling your options and typed out what one looks the best? then hit send.

As you were unzipping your dress and sliding it down your legs, you heard your phone ping from your bed. You hung up the dress and pulled your sweats back on before reaching for your phone, hesitating when you saw Joel's name pop up. You felt a pit in your stomach, worried that he came to his senses and was asking to cancel, so you sat down on the bed before sliding your thumb over the screen to open his text.

You look great in everything, but I really like the pink one.

Your palms instantly broke out into a sweat and you felt lightheaded.

"Oh no, oh no, oh no," you mumbled, scrolling up in your text chain before cursing and throwing yourself into your pillows to scream. In your rush to send your text, you accidentally sent the pictures to Joel instead of Courtney. You waited until you got your bearings and tried to convince yourself it wasn't really that bad, that it definitely could have been worse, before replying.

Ha, sorry. I meant to send those to a friend, but if you like the pink one, then I guess that answers my question

You stared down at your phone, anxiously waiting for his answer, which didn't take very long at all.

You could wear a paper sack and you would still look beautiful.

The grin that stretched across your face was massive. He was probably just sweet talking you and trying to make you feel better about making such a stupid mistake, but damn, it worked.

Looking forward to tonight :) you said in response, then bit your lip and flung yourself backwards on your bed. Your eyes drifted to the light pink dress hanging in your closet and you smiled.

As it turned out, the Italian restaurant was owned by Joel's brother, Tommy. You met the younger man at the host stand when you walked in the door. He had a huge grin plastered across his face and although you were an only child, you could still tell when someone was itching to tease their sibling. Tommy's eyes flickered back and forth between you and Joel, silently communicating with his brother as you introduced yourself. You managed to catch Joel shooting Tommy a warning glare before nervously resting his hand on your lower back and guiding you through the restaurant to an empty booth in the back.

"Have I told you how beautiful you look?" Joel asked, his dark eyes sparkling even under the dim mood lighting. You giggled and shyly looked down at your lap.

"A couple times."

Joel smiled warmly and leaned forward, his eyes trailing over the soft curves of your jaw and the way your plush lips stretched when he made you smile.

Before the food arrived, you learned a little more about him. He worked in construction, doing mostly residential but some commercial property work. He was trying to go into business for himself, which he told you was difficult but he already had years of experience and contacts in the area. He preferred to do most jobs himself or with as little help as possible because he only trusted his own work, but sometimes he did hire Tommy for a job to help his brother earn extra money.

"And in return, he lets me eat here for free," Joel finished, wiping the small smudge of red sauce from the corner of his mouth.

"That sounds like a win-win," you joked, and Joel chuckled.

"Tell me 'bout yourself. You said you been workin' at the store for four years?"

"Yeah," you nodded, pushing your empty plate to the side. "It's just meant to be temporary. I'm going to community college three days a week. Trying to get my degree so I can get a job with normal hours."

Joel hummed and leaned back in the booth. "What'dya wanna do?"

You shrugged. "I'm not sure, really. Hoping I figure that out as I go. I just know being a cashier for the rest of my life isn't for me, you know?"

"Yeah, sure," he agreed. "I could ask 'round if you want. Maybe some place is hirin' a receptionist or somethin'?"

"Oh, it's okay," you waved him off with a smile. "I appreciate it, though."

Afterwards, he took you for ice cream. You sat together outside the ice cream stand on a bench. The temperature outside was perfect and the place was mobbed. Kids ran around playing tag while other families gathered around picnic tables, laughing and telling each other about their days while you tried not to stare at Joel licking his ice cream and fantasizing about what that would look like between your legs.

"I wouldn't've pegged you for a strawberry girl," he said, nodding towards your rapidly melting ice cream.

"It reminds me of when I was a kid. My grandma liked to take me out for ice cream when she babysat me and strawberry was her favorite."

He smiled, listening to you talk about your family, getting a brief glimpse into your life, leaving him wanting more.

You thought everything was going so well. The date went perfectly. There wasn't as much awkwardness as you originally thought there would be and Joel was very easy to talk to. So when he dropped you off at your door and you invited him inside, you were surprised and somewhat hurt when he declined after a quick glance at his watch. He only kissed your cheek before telling you have a good night and backing out of your driveway, leaving you confused and a little self-conscious.

"He's probably just a gentleman," Courtney assured you the following day, "wants to take things slow and all that."

And you agreed. Once you had time to process everything, that seemed like exactly what it was, and you began to feel better.

But then Joel took you on a second date, and then a third, and he still hadn't tried to kiss you or make a move whatsoever.

"Maybe he's just rusty," Courtney offered after the fourth date and still finding yourself being shot down. "He wouldn't keep going out with you if he didn't like you."

Once again, Courtney made sense and you agreed he just liked to take things slower than you were used to.

But on your fifth date, where he took you to a baseball game, you misjudged the size of the beers they sold and you found yourself tipsier than you expected. Joel seemed really into the game but turned his focus on you whenever you searched for it, which, as the night wore on and the alcohol buzzed in your veins, became more and more frequent. You would ask him questions about how the game was played, even though your father watched baseball your whole life, just so you could listen to him talk. You looped your arm through his when the game was over and you both shuffled out of the stadium with a whole herd of drunk fans, back out into the parking lot. You tightly held onto his bicep, the feeling of his muscles under you fingertips more intoxicating than the beer, as he escorted you to his truck.

On the drive back to your place, you could feel your confidence building. Maybe he's just shy and doesn't know how to make a move. Maybe he just needs a clearer sign. Maybe he's waiting for you to make a move.

So, when he walked you to your door and he leaned in to kiss your cheek, you turned your face at the last second and locked your lips with his.

You could feel his surprise when your lips met. He froze and stopped breathing as he tried to figure out what to do, so you decided to make things easier for him and draped your arms around his neck, pulling him closer and massaging your lips over his, urging him to reciprocate.

And finally, his hands flew up to your waist and tugged you against him. His mouth began to move and he crowded you up against your door. When your back made contact with the wood and his large palms squeezed gently at your hips, you moaned into his mouth. You had been dying for this for weeks and you would be damned it you were going to let it stop too soon.

Without even asking this time, you reached behind you and fumbled with your doorknob, twisting it blindly without breaking the kiss so you could both stumble inside. He kicked the door shut behind him, tongue licking at the seam of your lips while he brought one of his hands up to cup the back of your head. You granted him access, parting your lips and tangling your tongues together as he continued to walk you backwards. He opened his eyes and glanced around the dark living room quickly before pulling away and whispering one word: bedroom?

The way he said it made your knees weak and your heart flutter excitedly in your chest. You pulled him down for one more kiss before grabbing his hand and practically dragging him down the hall. About halfway to your room, his lips latched onto the crook of your neck and you slowed down, closing your eyes and twisting around in his arms so you could kiss him again. He pinned you against the wall with a groan, his thumb and forefinger clutching your jaw, prying it open so he could devour you. You hooked one leg over his hips and he let go of your jaw so he could grab the backs of your thighs and haul you off the ground.

You tugged at his hair impatiently, then gasped when he ground himself against your core, your body jolting in his arms and knocking a canvas print off the wall.

"Shit," he muttered, barely sparing the picture a glance before peeling you off the wall and carrying you towards your bedroom with your ankles hooked together at his lower back. You giggled against his mouth then squealed when he tossed you onto your bed. His hands glided underneath your dress and up your legs, slipping his fingers around the the waistband of your panties and tugging them down, pausing once he got to your knees. He blinked a few times like he was snapping out of a stupor and glanced up at you.

"Is this okay?"

"God, yes," you said, reaching behind you to tug at your zipper. You tried to shrug off your dress but his lips found yours and you quickly got distracted. You nibbled at his bottom lip while simultaneously tugging at the hem of his shirt, pushing it up over his soft stomach and stopping at his broad shoulders. He broke away just long enough to lean back and toss the shirt over his head and he was back on top of you before you could even drink him in.

You dragged your mouth over his chin, biting and nipping as you went. He groaned as you left open mouthed kisses across his jaw, his prickly beard tickling your tongue. "My dress," you whispered against his cheek before mouthing at the skin there, "take it off."

His palms slid over your shoulders, pushing the straps of your dress down while you wiggled a bit, helping move the fabric down your body. You arched your back so he could pull your dress all the way off, his breath getting caught in this throat when your nipples brushed against his bare chest.

He couldn't resist. When your dress was discarded on the floor, he sat back between your legs to admire your naked body, completely transfixed. Too much time had passed without him saying anything and you grew self-conscious, so you slowly began to cross your arms over your chest, but he stopped you.

"No," he rasped with a shake of his head. "You're so beautiful, just wanna look at you another minute."

Your cheeks flared with heat but you dropped your hands and gazed up at him, watching his eyes flicker excitedly over your body, memorizing every curve and freckle he could find. Out of the corner of your eye, you noticed a twitch in his pants and you glanced down at the outline of his cock through his jeans. You bit your lip and he followed your gaze, palming his erection briefly before undoing his pants.

"Oh," you whispered to yourself when you saw his cock spring free. He wrapped his hand around his thick shaft and glanced up at you as he crawled back up the mattress on his knees. "You're big," you added, unable to look away. He blushed but didn't reply. Instead, he leaned forward and kissed you, this time slower. You shuddered in anticipation when you felt the tip of his leaking cock brush against your pussy and he froze.

"Shit, wait," he grumbled, sitting back on his heels before reaching for his wallet, which was still stuffed inside his jeans. You figured out the problem and leaned over to your nightstand, fishing around in the drawer until you found a condom and held it out for him. He looked relieved when he saw the little foil square and tossed his wallet back onto the ground before ripping open the condom and rolling it on.

"Sorry. It's... been a while. Wasn't exactly prepared," he explained, rubbing the back of his neck awkwardly. The endearing confession just made you want him even more.

"It's okay, come here," you murmured, reaching your arms out for him. He grinned and fell down onto his elbows, kissing you slow and deep. When you felt him rest his tip at your entrance, you tensed up.

"Relax," he whispered in your ear. You slid your eyes shut and snaked your arms around his shoulders, gasping sharply when he pressed forward. When he sunk his teeth into your shoulder, your eyes rolled to the back of your head, the pain mixing with the pleasure in a way that made you dizzy.

"Oh, fuck, Joel," you whimpered when he bottomed out, your body stretching around his girth, the sting setting your nerves on fire.

He groaned against your neck and began to rock his hips steadily, making sure to not go too fast. He could tell you were still getting adjusted but it had just been so fucking long and he liked you so much, it was difficult to hold back. He could feel the sweat collecting between his shoulder blades as he focused all his energy on going slow, and when he felt your thighs relax around his waist and your back arch underneath him, he sighed with relief.

"More," you moaned, pressing your body against his, trying to get as close as possible. He growled and dipped his mouth down to capture one of your nipples, swirling his tongue around the sensitive bud, releasing it with a wet pop and reveling in the sweet noises you made for him.

He wanted to tell you everything. He wanted to tell you how much he thought about you, how long he wanted to ask you out, how he wanted to know everything about you, how nervous you made him with just a simple glance. But he didn't say any of that. It had been so long since he had gone on a date that he wasn't even sure what women liked anymore. So he remained silent, focusing on not coming too soon while paying close attention to your cues, memorizing what you liked based on the breathy whines in his ear and the way your fingers clutched frantically at his hair. You, however, took his silence to mean he wasn't enjoying himself and you really, really didn't want that, so you pushed gently on his shoulder, drawing his attention.

"Let's switch," you murmured, and he gave you a quizzical look. "Why don't you lay back and let me do some of the work?" you explained, nipping playfully at his jaw.

When his head settled into your pillows, watching with heavy lidded eyes as you straddled him before catching his gaze and slowly sinking down, taking every inch of his cock with a low moan, he thought for sure it would be the death of him. You looked so beautiful all spread out and full of him that he had to squeeze his eyes shut so he wouldn't come just looking at you.

Then you started riding him and his eyes flew open, his chest heaving as he watched your tits bounce and your head tip back in ecstasy and he knew he was done for.

"Wait," he rasped, grabbing your waist and stilling your hips. You stopped, swollen lips parted as you panted for air and looked down at him.

"What's wrong?"

"N-nothin'," he stammered, taking a few deep breaths in before chuckling. "I'm just... I need a minute, is all."

You could see the red beginning to stain his cheeks and the look of embarrassment flicker across his face, melting your heart. Leaning down, you cupped his jaw and kissed him tenderly.

"Is that why you've been so quiet?" you asked softly, leaning back so you could look into his eyes but still holding his cheek in the palm of your hand. He nodded, his fingers gently wrapping around your wrist.

"I'm sorry. I haven't been with anyone in years and I've been tryin' to take things slow with you but I think all the buildup just made it worse." You grinned and took his other hand.

"Don't be sorry. I think it's hot," you whispered, pulling his free hand down between your bodies. He splayed his hand out across your lower abdomen and you took his thumb between your fingers, pulling it down so it made direct contact with your clit. You sucked in a sharp breath when you felt the pressure and a slow smile spread across his face when he realized what you were doing.

"Yeah? Why's it hot?" he asked, drawing slow circles over your clit and watching your jaw fall open and your eyes flutter shut. Both your hands dropped to his chest, holding yourself up.

"Because," you began, then bit your lip and moaned when he picked up the pace. "Because it's l-like you c-can't control yourself. Like y-you need me so badly, you can't hold back." You knew it sounded pathetic but you didn't care. His touch was intoxicating and you needed more.

"I can't," he admitted, his eyes glued to your face, taking pride in how good he made you feel. "I can't control myself. Wanted you for so long. Been thinkin' about this for months."

You gasped and your eyes snapped open, locking onto his. "Me, too. I never thought, shit, never thought you noticed me."

"Are you kiddin' me? I noticed you the first day." Now that the truth was out there, the words wouldn't stop coming. "You were wearin' a yellow shirt and I saw these perfect fuckin' tits when you bent over. Went home that night and-"

He stopped himself, wondering if he was going too far, but you dug your fingers into his chest and urged him to continue, desperately gasping for air as his thumb applied more pressure.

"Say it," you whispered. His cock pulsed angrily inside you, begging for release.

"Went home and fucked my fist thinkin' 'bout you."

You groaned loudly and leaned back, grabbing your breasts and playing with your nipples. "Fuck, I'm close, Joel."

"Yeah? Can you ride me, baby? Wanna come with you," he begged, his voice strained. Immediately, you resumed bouncing on his cock, letting go of your tits so you could brace yourself on his chest once again.

He watched in awe as you gasped and squeezed your eyes shut, stilling for just a moment, pulsing around his length as you came, his name and curses tumbling from your lips.

He couldn't hold back any longer.

He grabbed your hips with both hands and slammed up into you, grunting louder and louder each time. And it didn't take long. You had barely recovered from your own orgasm before he groaned, his eyes trained on where you were connected, thrusting as deep as he could go while his cock throbbed inside you.

"Fuck," he whispered, his head falling back limply onto your pillow. You slumped forward and buried your face against his neck, each of you trying to regulate your breathing.

"That was..." you began, trailing off when you realized your brain was still a pile of mush.

"Better than I ever imagined," Joel finished for you, wrapping his arms around your ribs.

Regrettably, he eventually pulled out, making you both wince. You rolled over onto your back and watched as he made his way to the bathroom to dispose of the condom. If you had any energy left, you might have shot off a quick text to Courtney, but you were barely coherent by the time he slipped back into your bed.

You didn't even need to ask if he was staying the night. He pulled you into his arms, his chest pressed up against your back when you fell asleep, completely at ease.

It could have been the beer or the sex, but you didn't hear his phone go off in the middle of the night. You didn't feel him slip his arm out from under you so he could answer the call in your living room, and you definitely didn't hear him quickly dress and leave.

It was finally Friday and you were moments away from calling off from work. The thought of facing him again made your stomach roll and your head swim.

You hadn't heard from Joel since he left in the middle of the night after you slept together, days ago. You foolishly texted and called him multiple times, but he never answered. Eventually, you got the message.

Countless hours were spent crying, then more were spent stalking around your place angrily, and a mixture of the two happened at work when either Courtney or Andy asked you about hot flower guy.

They eventually learned not to ask.

As badly as you wanted to call off, you dragged yourself into work. Andy offered to take over the registers so you could hide in the aisles stocking shelves during the hour Joel typically showed up, and you shamefully took him up on it. But when it was close to closing time and you made your way back to the front, Andy shrugged his shoulders.

"He never came."

You had a moment where you worried that something happened to him and you considered texting him just one more time, but when you got into your car that night and opened your text chain to a long list of unanswered texts, you changed your mind.

However, the next morning you awoke to a handful of texts from Joel. At first, your heart raced in your chest, but then your anger crept up and you had half a mind to just delete them. After you had some coffee and a chance to think clearly, your curiosity won and you opened the texts.

I'm so sorry

Something came up

Can you call me back?

Please let me explain

Your fingers hovered over your screen as you debated on what to say. Then you decided to leave the messages unanswered. At least for a little while. If he left you hanging for almost a week, he could wait a few hours, right?

What you didn't expect, however, was for him to show up at the store on a Saturday. He only ever came on Friday evenings. You were cashing out a customer, zoning out a bit, grateful for the distraction. When you reached for the receipt, your eyes locked with his and your pulse began to race. He was holding a bouquet of white roses and looking at you with a guilty expression. Your fingers froze around the paper momentarily until the little old lady in front of him cleared her throat and you blinked, snapping out of it and handing her the receipt with an apologetic smile.

"Hey," he said, but you kept your gaze trained down at the scanner.

"Hi."

Your hands shook as you scanned his flowers, doing your best to get the interaction over with as quickly as possible. Out of the corner of your eye, you saw Andy at customer service notice Joel in line, watching from a distance in case you needed rescuing.

"You didn't respond to my texts," he said quietly. You shrugged.

"I've been busy," was all you said, tapping the button on the register for credit.

After he paid, you handed him his receipt and forced yourself to look at him. You could see in his eyes he looked exhausted and run down and despite how upset you were, you felt bad. But you felt even worse after he pocketed the receipt and handed you the flowers.

"They're for you."

"Oh," you said, surprised, as you looked down at the roses. "T-thank you."

Joel looked over his shoulder when a young couple began to unload their groceries on the belt. You panicked, not sure what to do or say, and then you felt a tap on your shoulder.

"Why don't you take your break?" Andy offered, "I'll cover."

You gave him a shaky smile, both of you knowing full well you already had your break. "Yeah, okay." Glancing over at Joel, you tilted your head towards the front door and he nodded.

"I'm so sorry I left without sayin' anythin'," he began when you sat down together on a bench outside the store. "There was an emergency and I had to go."

"You could have texted me or left a note," you said sadly, looking down at the flowers clutched in your hands.

"I know, and I was gonna, but my damn phone died and I was in the hospital for days. I was outta town, couldn't leave, I even wore the same clothes the whole time," he rubbed his face and sighed. "And once we got back home, I wanted to explain in person what happened."

"We?" you questioned. He dropped his chin to his chest and nodded solemnly.

"I have a daughter," he confessed, and your jaw dropped in surprise.

"W-what?" you whispered softly, "why didn't you tell me, Joel?"

His eyebrows pinched together, still avoiding your gaze.

"I don't know. In the past, women haven't exactly been thrilled findin' out I come with baggage and I guess I was bein' selfish." He finally looked up and you could see the pain behind his eyes. "I was tryin' to find the right way to tell you but I was so scared of losin' you."

You shook your head in disbelief. "It doesn't bother me at all that you have a daughter, Joel," you told him, "it bothers me that you lied."

He inched forward on the bench and put his hand on your knee. "I know. I'm so sorry. It was stupid. If you gimme another chance, I promise I'll never lie to you again."

Your chest tightened and you had to look away. He was so sincere, you could feel your resolve crumbling. After a moment, you dragged your eyes back up to him and you could swear he looked like he was on the verge of tears.

"Is she okay?"

He blinked rapidly for a moment, surprised by your question, then nodded.

"Yeah. She's okay now. She had appendicitis. She was with her mom last week. She lives an hour outside Austin and I just went right there from your place. Scared the shit outta me," he finished with a dry chuckle. Then something clicked.

"Your daughter..."

"Sarah."

"Sarah," you repeated. "The flowers you bought every week. Were they for her?"

He smiled shyly and nodded. "Yeah. She gets nervous goin' to her mom's still. The situation is a little rocky so I always get her flowers. Whether she's goin' there or comin' back. They make her smile," he said with a little shrug, and your heart melted.

"That's... that's really sweet," you said, looking down once again at the roses he bought you. He watched you closely for a moment then sat back on the bench, scratching his chin and trying to read your mind. Everything was out in the open now. He should have listened to Tommy and just told you the truth from the first date, but he couldn't remember the last time he ever felt so strongly about someone else before.

Just when he was about to leave, wanting to give you your space to think things over, you spoke again.

"So when are you free next?"

Joel exhaled in relief, then laughed. "Tomorrow?"

You bit your lip and nodded, then leaned forward and cupped his jaw, giving him a chaste kiss on the corner of his mouth.

"It's a date," you whispered before standing up. He watched you from the bench as you walked towards the front doors. At the last moment you turned around, the white roses clutched against your chest, and called out, "have a good night."

He grinned.

"Have a good night."

[luveline]

YES to luna lovegood/dreamy!reader!!!!!!!!! Can we possibly get one with Spencer? <3

“It’s not as bad as you think.” 

Hotch appreciates the softness of your voice, as someone who also speaks in a very measured tone, but the sound of it has his brow furrowing. You’re a brilliant analyst, and a worse distraction whenever you’re in the main office. 

“It sounds terrible?” 

Hotch peers through the window to get a good look at the scene. You’re sitting in Spencer’s desk chair with your hands stretched out in front of you. Your outfit is very pink, considering the occasion, but it’s a non-abrasive light pink that flatters your skin. You have a clip in your hair, a small silver star with pink jewels embedded along the lines. 

Emily sips at a cup of coffee, leaning against the desk, her face to the side. Hotch can see her perturbed smile. 

“It’s fine! I’ve just been sleeping on the sofa.” 

“Well. That’s a call to pest control.” 

Spencer returns to his desk with a frown and two mugs. “Pest control?” he asks, the mug he places in front of you steaming. 

“There’s a raccoon living in her bedroom.” 

Spencer burns himself on his coffee, swearing as he puts it down hurriedly beside yours. “There’s a what?” Spencer asks. 

“He’s friendly. He came in through my vent.” 

“So friendly he’s stolen your bedroom?” 

You lean back in Spencer’s chair like it’s a La-Z-Boy, blowing at the hot surface of your drink with a similar lazy smile. “Imagine being that little and having such a big bed? When you usually sleep in the garbage?” You give a breathy laugh. “He must be having the time of his life.” 

“How are you getting ready in the mornings?” Spencer asks worriedly. 

“We’re cohabiting.” 

Spencer licks his lips. He likes you, and you seem aware of that fact, and that’s nerve-wracking for everyone involved. 

“Um, maybe we can make him a house? Like, outside? Raccoons are far happier in their natural habitat, and they’re also, you know, highly diseased and contagious compared to humans. I really don’t think you should let him inside.” 

“Spencer,” you say, giving him a dozy grin, “I didn’t let him in. He knows how to get in all by himself.” 

“I’ll call a repairman, too,” Emily says with a groan. 

She walks away, probably to find JJ and get her in on the repairs. Spencer looks at you for a long time, just drinking your tea, and Hotch mentally goads him into making a semblance of a move. Even if it’s just to fix your drooping hair clip. 

“You’re looking at me strangely again,” you say. 

Winces all around. “Am I?” Spencer asks. 

“Yes. Is this about Thursday?” 

“No.” Spencer swallows. “Yes. You didn’t answer my texts, after. I just want to know what you’re thinking.”

“What I’m thinking?” 

“Yeah. I thought about it a lot, so maybe you did too. Or maybe you didn’t, and it didn’t mean anything.” 

“Of course it meant something, Spencer.” You put down your mug, dusting your knees off before you stand. Spencer is not much taller than you where you’re standing in front of him, but you look up at him anyways. Your face tips ever so slightly to one side. “Would you want to do it again?” you ask softly. 

Spencer looks around the office. He neglects to check Hotch’s window, perhaps because the blinds are more often drawn than not, and so he doesn’t realise Hotch is watching as he draws you in for a kiss. 

You preen and lean back, hands fighting to cup his cheeks, a gauzy, practically gleaming aura around you as you smile into his mouth. Your fingertips tease his hair, and Spencer’s hand settles in place against the small of your back. You kiss back for only a few seconds before you’re laughing.

Spencer moves away quickly, taking your wrists into his hands to pull them away from his face. 

“You give up too fast,” you say. 

“I don’t think this is the place for it.” 

“Well, we can’t do it at my place. What if the raccoon sees?” 

“Good point. How about Marina’s, would that be better? We can get dinner at the same time.” 

Hotch feels oddly proud of Spencer’s suave suggestion, but he also has a migraine brewing between his brows. He really doesn’t need the extra paperwork.