#i might have the taste of a middle-aged dad

[leohttbriar]

tagged by @unit3947 <3

tagging: @youandthemountains @bobakick @carlandrea @sopranoentravesti @firstroseofspring @coralreeferband

[love-toxin]

(cw: yandere, noncon, drugging, kidnapping, daddyfication)

i think i need to be fr and acknowledge how i can't stop thinking about getting kidnapped by Gallagher and being his lil babydoll...

get all dressed up and drink all the fancy cocktails he mixes cuz it's easier to manhandle someone when they're drunk. being dragged to and from the bar day and night because, despite being his captive, he doesn't mind showing you off since he's sure he can train you not to break under any questioning from nosy busybodies.

he names a cocktail after you, all bright and cheerful with a mix of your favourite colours, but a sip of it proves too sour for you to handle. it's not even bittersweet, just a burning, acidic taste that bites your tongue all the way down to your throat as Gallagher watches you drink it. you've gotta drink at least one a day, per his rules. as strong as it is, it never tastes enough of alcohol for it to give you any serenity.

on the other hand, he doesn't really drink when he's around you. after he puts you to bed or when he's alone, sure, he'll have a couple dreamjoys--but aside from that, he keeps as sober as he can be when he has his pretty thing to look after.

he's kinda like a dad, you realize. he likes it. it's weird, but it becomes overly comfortable; he enjoys feeding you and eats better when he's got to make sure you're full and eating good. he still skimps on sleep often but he'll cuddle you when he slides into bed next to you. he spends so much time worrying after you that you might end up calling him 'dad' or 'daddy' by accident, and he'll encourage it to stick without thinking. he praises you and punishes you in equal measure, one with kisses and sex and the other with alcohol, restraints, and....more sex. for a middle-aged guy, he's got quite the hunger for getting rough in bed, but maybe that's just because of you.

after a while, when you're sufficiently brainwashed after so much gaslighting and manipulation, you might get jealous or worried that Gallagher's gonna find someone else if you're bad. that maybe daddy's love isn't unconditional like he said if you misbehave too much. that's one of the only thoughts he doesn't let fester in you--you can worry about being well-behaved, or if he's gonna let you have dessert after dinner, but not whether he loves you or not. that won't ever change. why would he put so much effort into training you keeping up your good behavior just to lie and cheat on you? that doesn't make any sense. daddy still loves you even when you're bad.

cause daddy isn't all that great of a guy, either. in fact, he's pretty much an unhinged, perverse psycho. but maybe you've forgotten that now, and all the better for him.

[xqueen-of-disasterx]

I liked how wholesome the ending of Dad’s friend Nat getting R pregnant 🥹. Should do a follow up where Nat and R run away together, maybe to somewhere in Russia

(Un)pleasant surprise pt.2

𝐏𝐚𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠: fem!reader x dads!bestfriend!Nat

𝐒𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐞𝐫𝐲: After telling your father about your pregnancy, things don’t go as planned, so your girlfriend steals you away

𝐖𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: pure fluff, teaser to smut

!Disclaimer English is not my first language so please excuse any grammar or spelling errors. This story is completely fictional. I do not own these characters!

𝐀/𝐍: I normally don’t do part 2 but I just love these two so I couldn’t pass. (This was in my inbox for months now)

𝐌.𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭 | 𝐍𝐚𝐯𝐢𝐠𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧 | 𝐩𝐚𝐫𝐭 𝟏

“Baby” you whined upon being woken up yet another time by your crying little one. “Don’t worry darling I’m already on it” Natasha mumbled slipping our of your shared king sized bed to take our new born into her arms. Seeing you and your daughter, Victoria, together made your heart melt. She hushed the little girl gently cradling her from side to side.

Rolled onto your back admiring the woman of your dreams in the gentle sun of the morning hours. “She’s perfect” Nat mumbled still in an awe of having a little her around. She couldn’t believe her luck in her age she already befriend the thought of never having an offspring herself. Her smile only got wider when the baby grew more tired again eventually falling asleep against her chest.

She settled down again next to you the head of your daughter still at your chest. “She looks just like you” She stated and you sat up again whispering to not wake Victoria up. “Oh please” you laughed “she’s only a couple of months old she just looks like a baby” Nat disagreed pulling you closer to her. “Absolutely not bunny, she might be small but she already has your eyes” She kissed your forehead and you asked yourself if you would ever grow tired of having her around.

If someone had told you a year ago that you’d find your peace in the middle of the woods in Russia, you would’ve thought someone had murdered and buried you there. But no you soon realised thar there was no better past time activity than to watch you toned girlfriend chop wood. Watching how her muscles flex when she sung the axe, watching her sweat in her wifebeater while you sat at the porch with a cup of tea in hands.

Officially you were reported missing in the states, after telling your father about your pregnancy he was furious. He tretend to beat Natasha up if she ever even thought about coming close to you ever again. He didn’t understand your love, he thought Natasha had pressured you into sleeping with her and it made you sick. She was the woman you loved, the mother of your first born baby, the person you loved the most. So when one day she approached you after a long day of arguing with your father you didn’t think twice before agreeing to leave it all behind with you.

“Don’t you have something to do or are you going to gawk the whole day at me” She asked in a teasing tone her hands sliding over the handle of the axe. “Mhm” you hum taking another sip of the mint tea in your hands “just cooking for tonight and that’s it. So I still have enough time to admire you” She chuckled at your response before going back to chopping the wood.

“Tastes delicious” Natasha hummed upon licking over the spoon she had previously dipped into the stew. “It’s not done yet” You huffed in a faked annoyance “but I can’t wait to taste it jus like I can’t wait to taste you” she grinned and got behind me kissing up my neck which forced a small whimper from my throat. “Nat the food is gonna burn” you warned her only to be silenced by her lips on yours.

“Let it” she mumbled against you sweet lips before pushing you up on the kitchen counter. How how you loved her.

:)

[sammybeann]

Sammy has had an oral fixation since the day he was born. Pacifiers were a fucking godsend during his first few years of life, but by the time he had turned three John deemed little Sam too old to be sucking on a piece of rubber so he pulled it right from baby Sammy's sweet mouth and tossed it in the garbage.

When their father had left the wee Winchester kids at the seedy motel to check out a lead on a case, 7 year old Dean had fished the pacifier out of the trash, giving it a thorough wash before giving it back to his baby brother.

"You have to hide it though, Sammy. So daddy doesn't take it away." Dean had warned, an enthusiastic Sam nodding, big dimpled smile brighter than the sun. 

"Yay! 'Kay, Dee. I pwomise!"

Eventually, after an impressive year of hiding the forbidden item, John had caught Sam when he came home early one night. Sam had been sleeping curled up next to Dean, soaking up his warmth in the chilly, poor insulated motel room, the pacifier hanging from Sam's parted lips. 

John shut that shit down real fast, so for the second and last time, John had pulled it from Sam's mouth, waking him almost immediately. 

To say Sam was an absolute nightmare after that was an understatement. Nights were hell, Sam kicking his legs and demanding his 'sucky', snot and tears running down his little cheeks as he begged and plead, his tantrums baring no fruit however. 

Eventually, John had gone out to the bar one night a few weeks after, mumbling about how he was going to blow his own brains out if he had to listen to Sam's whining for one more night, leaving poor Dean to deal with a relentless Sam. 

"Sammy, c'mon, bud," Dean sighed as they lay in bed, a trembling Sam spooned in front of him. "I don't sleep with a sucky, don't you wanna be a big boy like me?" 

"No!" Sam exclaimed defiantly. "I want sucky!" 

An idea popped into Dean's head as he soothed his hand up and down his brother's side, feeling each rib beneath the worn, way too big Metallica shirt Sam wore to bed. He wasn't sure it would even make a difference, but desperate times and all that. 

Removing his hand from Sam's side, he moved it to the front of his brother's face, sticking his middle and ring fingers out. 

"Suck," he instructed a confused Sam. "Might make you feel better."

Sam sniffled, apprehensive. But eventually he took Dean's wrist, skinny little fingers wrapping around it as he guided Dean's fingers into his mouth. 

He could taste the salt on Dean's fingertips with notes of nacho cheese from the Doritos his brother had eaten earlier, but as the pads of his fingers slid across Sam's tongue and his lips wrapped around them, the tears suddenly stopped. 

Closing his eyes he began to suckle, and sure enough, a few minutes later he was out like a light.

That's how the nightly ritual of Sam sucking Dean's fingers to sleep started, and even as he grew older, baby teeth falling out and big boy teeth replacing them, it was a habit he didn't break. 

Of course Sam aging meant Dean was aging too, puberty hitting him like a fucking freight train. After one night, while Sammy was sucking hard on Dean's fingers during a particularly restless night of sleep, Dean had been mortified when he felt his 15 year old cock harden, Sam's small, plump little ass pressed up against his crotch doing absolutely nothing to help matters. 

He ripped his fingers out of Sam's mouth so fast that his baby brother nearly bit them off in surprise before gracelessly shuffling out of the bed to beeline it to the bathroom. 

A cold shower later and a bucket full of shame, Dean had to break the news to Sam that he couldn't have Dean's fingers anymore, telling him he was too old for it now and that dad would rip Dean's hand off and Sam's tongue out if he knew what they were doing. 

Despite the fight Sam had put up, Dean remained headstrong and stood his ground on the matter, resulting in Sam's prepubescent voice declaring that he hated Dean as he climbed out of the bed, dramatically striding over to the bathroom where he locked himself in for the rest of the night. 

Days passed, and Sam, the stubborn little shit still did everything in his power to ice Dean out, refusing eye contact with him, ignoring him when he spoke, even going as far as to deny the last slice of pizza Dean had offered him as an olive branch. It stung, but Dean was sure he was doing the right thing. 

To Dean's dismay, while the suckling had stopped his growing arousal surrounding his brother did not, and even as the guilt festered deep and ugly inside his gut, all he could think about was Sammy's tongue, the way his soft, pink lips looked wrapped around his fingers, how his dimples would peek out when he would suckle with a particular urgency when having a vivid dream. He missed the wet, squelch of it. 

Dean was going straight to hell, but as he and Sam lay in the darkness on opposite beds one night when John had left them to their own devices once again, he caved. 

"Sammy," he whispered, glancing over to the opposite bed, eyeing the dark silhouette of Sam's form. "You up?"

Sam, still intent on ignoring Dean remained silent, feigning slumber. 

Clearing his throat before inhaling sharply, all Deans resolve dissipated. Fuck it. 

"Do you want sucky?" 

The question hung heavy in the air, and seconds ticked away before the sound of Sam shuffling out of bed filled the quiet of the room. Without saying a word, Sam climbed into Dean's bed, pulling the scratchy motel comforter over his body as he molded himself to Dean's front, fitting there like a puzzle piece. 

Remaining silent, he reached behind him and searched for Dean's hand, gripping his wrist once he located it before bringing it up and over, lips parting as he slid those now thicker fingers into his hot little mouth. 

Dean felt his cock begin to stir almost immediately, and while Sam began to doze off, Dean remained wide awake. 

After a good 20 minutes, he felt Sammy's mouth go slack, and that would normally be when Dean separated his fingers from it, but this time he simply changed the angle of his hand, letting his baby brother drool into his palm until it was dripping with Sammy saliva. 

And if he stumbled to the bathroom after to yank his boxers down and furiously jerk his now rock hard member using his precious little Sammy's spit, well then nobody had to know. 

Yeah, there was no way he didn't have a first class ticket straight to hell.

[am-i-the-asshole-official]

Was i the asshole for "insinuating" my friend's husband attempted to poisoned me?

I 26cisf have always, since I was quite young, had a fear of people tampering with my food and drinks. If I leave a drink or food in a room with others, my immediate thought when I sit back down is to taste test it to see if it tastes different or see if it looks different. If it dose, I immediately throw it away, wash or get a new dish/bowl/glass/etc and get a new serving. This fear isn't unfounded as, when I was 7 or 8, my dad spit in my bowl of soup and I caught him. He hated me so this wasn't unexpected. Later in life I had 2 different abusive partners threaten to drug me and as a result, all food is suspicious the moment it's left alone with anyone. I've done this to my husband on occasion and he understands.

Earlier this month, I, my husband 26tm, a friend of mine 25cf and her husband 53cm all had a nice dinner together at my apartment. Later on in the evening, our husbands went to play on his xbox in the living room while me and my friend had a drink in the kitchen. The kitchen "ends" right where the living room begins so they were on a couch about 15ft away from us, again, its an apartment. I've been friends with her since middle school so I have no reason to suspect her but her husband is creepy towards me and our mutual friends of our age and is much older than her. I put up with him for her sake and never made an ill comment other than a week after they started dating with concerns about their age gap. My friend and her husband dated for about 8 months and have been married for about 4 months. My husband and friend left so he could show her some break time levels from Mario wonder on the switch in our room while her husband sat on his phone on the couch. My husband mentioned it over dinner, my friend showed interest but wasn't sure so he offered to show her.

I felt ackward and had to pee so I went to the bathroom and when I came back, her husband had changed positions on the couch and I'm pretty sure my drink wasn't in the same place I left it by 2 to 4 inches. I was instantly nervous and took a sip and it didn't taste right. As I was pouring out my drink in the sink, my husband and friend came back and she saw me doing it and glanced once quickly at her husband. I barely turned my head so I'm not sure how she realized I suspected him a little. She knows about my fear and knew how I handled it a few times when I feared she had done something however.... Apparently doing this while mildly suspecting her husband was too far and she absolutely exploded on me out of no where.

She said I was implying her husband was a rapist or abuser or creep and that it was two faced of me to invite people over who I thought might poison me or fuss with my food. She said I always take that fear too far in public settings, which isn't true as I've never done this with groups of people bigger than 3 or 4 friends nor do I vocally accuse them. I just reset my food and move on as it eases my anxiety about it. Her husband got super defensive and started getting my face and my husband diffused the situation by sending them both home. My friend blew up my phone that night and eventually she blocked me for a week before coming back to apologize for her actions but asking me to apologize to her husband for making him feel bad. I told her it was her who made it seem like I was accusing him, not me for doing something she's seen me do a million times.

Eventually it went away but every time I see her, she asks if I'm going to apologize soon but I'm just not sure if what I did was really as offensive as she made it seem. I don't genuinely believe that he tried to poison or roofie me but if there's even a 10% chance, my anxiety is through the roof and I pass out if I just try to push through. No one else, after knowing this fear, has taken it personally as it's just the remains of trauma and fundamentally harmless. Once I'm reset, I often totally forget the scare and they've acted like nothing ever happened. Was i the asshole?

What are these acronyms?

[annwrites]

—nine ball

only twelve-years-old, but I got a hold of a pole stick i was gifted from him. my father is a betting man, but i got myself a steady hand. he's sitting in the corner with a six pack of corona betting that his son'll win again. — dad!billyhargrove x brokenhearted!reader ; .·:·.*

When you step through the door, you’re enveloped in dim, comfortable, ambient lighting. Country music plays quietly overhead on the radio, and the smell of beer and fried foods wafts through the air.

You walk over to a barstool, slide atop it, and you wait patiently for the bartender to come to you so you can order.

You’re wholly oblivious to the pair of blue eyes that now rest upon you, or the matching pair of smirking lips that are eager to flirt and make passes at you all night long in hopes of luring you back to his single-wide that’s not too far from here.

Once you’ve ordered something for yourself, you wrap your hands around the bottle, staring it down, fighting back the tears that sting your eyes.

“You are far too pretty to be drinkin’ alone, sweetheart,” comes a deep, attractive voice from the side of you.

You slowly turn your head, and drink in something that’s certainly not alcohol, but you have a feeling might be just as intoxicating by the look of him.

He’s tall—even while seated—with golden curls that the overhead bulbs cast in a soft glow atop his head, muscled arms, and a muscled chest that he’s clearly trying to advertise with the way his red button-up is most certainly buttoned down. All the way to his navel.

He flashes you a set of straight white teeth—a shock to see a complete set in a small, podunk town like this—then slides his arm along the bartop, staring at you all the while with eyes you can’t yet make out the color of in the provided lighting.

You swallow nervously.

You thought coming here had been what you wanted. That it would make you feel better. That being flirted with would.

You’d not expected for it to happen right away, though. And the fact that this one already seems ready to pounce like a wildcat only serves to unnerve you.

You had hoped to settle a few sips into your drink first.

“I’m Billy,” he says, taking a sip of his Corona.

“Y/N,” you reply quietly, glancing down to the bottle that now rests in your lap.

“Don’t think I’ve seen you in here before,” he states, letting his eyes trail along you, not even attempting to hide that he’s interested.

You glance to him from under your lashes and his lip twitches from how sweet and shy you seem.

You have no idea what the hell to do with yourself, clearly.

But oh, he most certainly does.

“Do you come here a lot, then?” You ask.

He smirks, shrugging. As if he doesn’t know the shameful answer of ‘almost every night’.

“Every now and again.”

He leans in toward you, planting his booted feet between each of yours on the bottom of your stool’s footrest. “Sure as hell would remember you if you’d ever been in here before, though.”

You smile slightly, deciding to finally take a small drink of your beer.

And you immediately grimace at the taste, causing your new suitor to chuckle.

“How about we get you something sweet,” he says, turning to the bar.

“Oh, no, that’s okay—”

He cuts you short by getting the attention of the middle-aged gentleman behind the bar, and he promptly orders you a wine cooler.

You take a moment to glance around and are taken aback by the sight of a young boy playing pool.

“Is…is that…”

Billy turns his head, grinning from ear-to-ear when he spots who you’ve focused on.

“That’s my boy,” Billy says, turning back to you. “Taught him everything I know about playin’. Now he whoops grown-ass men here at it almost every night, winnin’ his old man some extra cash.”

Your brows furrow. “How old is he?”

“Twelve,” he states, taking a drink. “He’s best at nine ball, but he can play anything, so long as it’s on a pool table.”

“Is that even legal?” You ask in disbelief.

This man is how old and he’s spending all his nights in a bar with his little boy? Why the hell hasn’t the bartender kicked them both out yet?

Billy shrugs, glancing back to the smaller spitting image of himself with a smile. “Can’t exactly fit a billiards table in my trailer. How else is he s’posed to keep his skills with a pool stick sharp?”

You continue staring at him like he’s suddenly grown a third head.

“Haven’t touched your drink,” he remarks.

You glance to it, then back to him.

“I’m not…” You trail off, thinking of how to best approach this—the most polite way you can word it.

“I didn’t come here to go home with anyone.”

He raises a brow.

“At least buy me a drink first, honey. Gettin’ a little ahead of yourself,” he says with a chuckle.

You look back to his son who stares at the two of you from under a mop of soft blond curls before focusing on the game before him and sinking a nine ball.

“It’s a school night,” you remark. “Shouldn’t he be at home, getting ready for bed?”

Billy’s smile disappears.

“You have any kids?” He asks, taking a long swig, staring at you all the while.

“No.”

“Then don’t tell me how to look after mine,” he says in a flat tone.

You frown slightly. “I’m not.”

He snorts. “You think you have some sort of read on me?”

Your eyes flit between his own before focusing on your bottle again, nervously tearing at the label.

“Go on,” he encourages. “Hit me with your best shot. Tell me who you think I am.”

You shake your head softly. “I didn’t mean anything by it.”

He glances to his son, then back to you. “I doubt that.”

You look at him once more.

“Let me tell you what I think, then.”

You continue tearing at the label, an uncomfortable feeling settling over you.

One thing you can take a guess at is that he’s probably a mean drunk.

“I think you’re a cock-tease on a barstool looking for some male attention. You want to sit here and have drinks bought for you and get paid compliments. Just not by the likes of me. Because…what? You have a stick up your ass?”

Tears brim in your eyes and your chin wobbles.

He rolls his eyes, turning around, resting his forearms back against the bar, watching his boy sink an eight ball before racking again.

You let that simmering anger bubble to the surface then, and allow him the brunt of it.

He’s silent for awhile—thinking—his chest steadily rising and falling.

“Maybe I did come for a modicum of attention. Would you like to know why? The man I have given myself to in every way I could for two years—praying he’d finally love me the way I wanted and would want the same as I do—has been sleeping with another woman. Which I found out about less than an hour ago, by the way. And instead of apologizing for it, he looks me in the eye and says that he never intended to stay with me.

“So I came here to feel less lonely. Maybe to be flirted with and called pretty once or twice like you said—something he never did. So I guess you’re right. Maybe we both are.”

He’s quiet for so long, in fact, that you think he either didn’t hear you—drowned you out entirely—or his continued silence is his way of telling you, without actually saying it, to get lost. That he doesn’t care.

You turn around and grab the drink you initially ordered for yourself, ready to head to a booth, or maybe you’ll just toss the bottle on your way out the door, and then he speaks.

“I’m sorry.”

You look at him.

“I get it,” he says, nodding to his son. “Zach’s mom…”

He shakes his head, taking another drink. “Same damn fuckin’ thing.”

You take a very small sip from your bottle. “I’m sorry, too.”

He nods.

You study him for a moment.

He doesn’t look very old. He must’ve had his son when he was still a teenager.

“May I ask when…when you had him?”

He shrugs, not much caring if you do. “When I was eighteen.”

You take another small sip, nodding. “Oh.”

So he’s thirty, then.

In truth, he looks—at oldest—maybe twenty-seven. You don’t tell him that, though. You don’t want him to think you’re trying to flirt back.

He may be physically attractive, but that seems about the sum of it.

You chew your lip, wondering if you should try to break the tense, now-awkward silence.

“I got full custody,” he remarks.

He grinds his jaw, trying to cool his fire-hot temper.

“Bitch only ever cared about herself. I busted my ass to take care of the two of us after we had some bullshit shotgun wedding—my attempt at doing things ‘the right way’—only for her to turn around while I was at work and bring other lowlifes into my goddamn bed.

“So, we divorced and she tells me that ‘I can have him’. That she ‘didn’t sign up for this’. So, she took half of what little I already fucking had—that I worked to earn while she sat on her ass all day—and split. And I’m left with a seven-year-old that keeps asking me when his mom is coming home, and I have no idea how to answer.”

He drains the last dregs from his bottle, settling it on the stained wooden bartop. “He understands now. Not that it makes it any easier. She could do whatever to me. I don’t give a shit. But breaking my kid’s heart?”

His hands ball into fists. “I just hope she gets what she deserves for it. For all of it.”

“I can’t imagine,” you whisper.

He glances to you.

“I thought… I thought I’d spend the rest of my life with him. Even if I wasn’t entirely happy with things now. Even if he never wanted to have talks about commitment. Or he acted immature, or disrespectful toward me, or…”

You trail off, tears pooling in your eyes again and you sniffle. “I was willing to settle because I didn’t want to be alone. I wanted to get married and have a family. And when I told him that I wanted to start having kids before thirty he acted so…shocked by it. Like it was such a ridiculous thing to want.”

You stare down at your bottle. “He did that a lot: treated me like I was stupid. Acted like he was better than people and…”

A tear slips down your cheek.

“Stupid,” you whisper. “I’m so stupid. Two years I wasted on someone who never deserved even two days.”

You look at Billy again. “I’m just trying to say that I don’t understand how she could throw it away: a marriage to a man who was willing to take care of her and a child. Some people have everything and just don’t care. They throw it away because they know they’ll continue being handed whatever they want on a silver platter while those who pray to have even a fraction of what they do never get to have it.”

Your mouth settles into a scowl while your chin wobbles again, the tears in your eyes turning the lights around you blurry and unfocused.

“Maybe we should get him and my ex-wife together,” he says, looking at you.

You grin, lightly laughing. “Maybe.”

“Dad, I’m hungry.”

The two of you turn, looking at Zach, who has his hands tucked into the pockets of his blue jeans while he stares up at the two of you.

Billy sighs, reaching behind you and grabbing a menu.

Zach shakes his head. “I already know what I want. A burger, with extra pickles and onion.”

Billy turns around, placing his order for him while his son stares at you.

“You one of my dad’s new girlfriends?”

Your brows shoot into your hairline. “N-no. We’re just talking, that’s all. I’m not…”

You trail off. How to tell a twelve-year-old, in an ‘age-appropriate’ way that you’re not a floozy?

“I’m not here for anything like that. Just here for one drink, then I plan to go home.”

He studies you, pursing his lips.

You shift slightly.

“You’re pretty. Dad likes pretty girls.”

Your eyes widen and it’s just then that Billy turns back around.

“Save some women for the rest of us, bud,” he says, reaching forward and tousling his hair.

Zach swats his hand away, narrowing his eyes at him.

“She’s too old for me anyway,” he states, returning to the pool table.

Billy smirks, looking at you. “Real charmer, ain’t he?”

You smirk as well. “You did say you taught him everything you know.”

Billy throws his head back and laughs.

The night you leave one man behind is the same night you meet another: Billy Hargrove.

Some consider him a bit of a drunkard. What, with the fact he’s at the local bar nearly every night—twelve-year-old son in-tow to win him games of pool he’s bet on with money he doesn’t have—trying to drink merely drink away the pain of being let down and left behind by each person he’s ever cared for with countless bottles of Corona. Until one comes to return to him time and again to chat and laugh over beer and pizza.

And then comes the night you’re instead the one to be betrayed. And in an instant, your entire world shifts in the worst possible way yet again, leaving you with nothing.

But it’s another chance meeting on the side of the road that allows Billy to right a terrible, terrible wrong, but only with much convincing over dinner at a diner, and with his son’s blessing.

And those same things that each of you have lost: Billy a wife, Zach a mother, and you a man to love you, you each come to find yet again, even if you each tell yourselves that you’re not looking.

But that’s the phrase, isn’t it? It’s only once you’ve stopped searching that you finally find it—whatever it may be.

headcanons:

fic is heavily inspired by/based on the song ‘nine ball’ by zach bryan.

zach & reader come to bond. he likes who his dad is when he’s around her & likes how nice she is to him. that she’s maternal toward him in a way his own mom never truly was.

plotting:

reader comes into the bar one night & finds billy with another woman—laying it on pretty thick.

he looks up, sees the absolutely shattered look on reader’s face & she turns to leave.

he catches her in the parking lot, but she pushes him away. she’s bawling, telling him to get away from her.

she pulls out without looking & she gets hit by a truck.

billy comes to see her everyday in the hospital because he is absolutely riddled with guilt, but due to swelling on her brain they have her in an induce coma.

when she finally wakes, he shows up & she loses it, screaming for him to get out, so he does.

when she’s released from the hospital, she has no one to call & no car, so she chooses to walk back home.

billy finds her on the side of the road.

asks what the hell she’s doing, so she tells him. she breaks down & screams at him how she’s lost everything because of him. she has no car. she’s going to be drowning in medical debt now. her arm is broken & her opposite wrist is sprained. she can’t work. so then she won’t be able to pay rent, so she’s going to end up homeless. she just begins to spiral.

he begs her to get in the car. he wants to take her to dinner & they can discuss things.

she relents reluctantly.

billy makes her an offer: marry him. he’ll put her on his insurance & provide for her & put a roof over her head until she can get back on her feet. & he will replace her car. once she’s settled, they can get a divorce.

she tells him he’s being ridiculous, but he means it.

she demands they speak to zach first. she needs to know he would be okay with things before they just get hitched to commit insurance fraud.

zach already likes her & kind of lost it on his dad already for “almost killing her” (they had a number of fights after her accident), so he says yes without too much convincing.

she basically becomes a housewife to billy & a step-mom to zach.

when the time eventually comes for her to leave, zach hears them talking in the kitchen after he’s gone to bed that the next night they’ll break the news to him that she’s going to be leaving soon.

zach panics, so he makes a plan.

the next night after dinner, before they can tell him anything, he says “mom, can you grab me a coke from the fridge?”

“of course, sweetie.”

everyone freezes.

she starts crying because he thinks of her as his mom.

he begs her to stay.

& billy breaks then, too, telling her it’s what he wants: she’s his wife. she’s zach’s mother now. this is her home.

so they all stay together. <3

[aspiring-creative-person]

Ok just finished monstrous regiment today. I’m gonna dump some of my thoughts, will post fanart sometime this week.

First of all, I’m a little surprised people are shipping Polly and Maladict? Like in my mind there is a significant age gap lol but if you read them closer in age I guess I see it

Ok I know Maladict is canonically a woman but I still read him as a man. Like He/They maybe because who really knows about vampires you know?

Jackrum being a trans man makes sense to me. Literally said “I am your dad now” in more ways than one 😂

Honestly I read Polly as gender fluid? I haven’t seen many people talking about this. Like, there are moments, at least two, where she feels like she’s dressing *up* as a woman, not just dressing *as* a woman, and I guess the end where she tells the girls they can choose might indicate this but also I guess was more there for plot reasons but still.

Ok, also I absolutely love Otto the Vampire?? What a character entrance 😂😂

I haven’t actually read many other discworld books. I wasn’t aware until after I finished this book that some of the side characters in here are major discworld characters, and I’m excited to keep reading it!!

Oh more about Maladict. I also didn’t reread the physical description until the end, and I view him as very short and not actually really skinny like it describes him oops. But it’s too late I already have my image of him. Anyway I love how in discworld the vampires are like, middle aged men, rather than sexy Twilight high schoolers forever 😂😂

Also Igorina is so cute??? I’ll never get over characters who are like aliens or something, enjoying something that tastes bad to other people. It’s always so wholesome 😂

Also Blouse!!! Super fun! I love him. He’s a little confused but he’s got the spirit. And also he is actually really smart! And he sticks up for them when it matters :) Good for him.

Ok I think that’s it for tonight oof

[ms--lobotomy]

Since you tagged me in this poll I feel the need to answer with my thoughts for all of them. You know, for funsies.

40k Guilliman: pretty good option. He’s (somewhat) mentally stable and has talked it out with you beforehand. Though I am curious on where he acquired primarch-grade bondage equipment. Is that why it was planned months in advance? Was he spending all that time just trying out different kinds of ropes and chains that could hold him like some sort of kinky parody of Fenrir from norse mythology?? Also, he deserves sex that has him relax and not possibly shatter his partner’s pelvis, let that man rest. 8/10.

Corrupted Horus: We all enjoy a very evil and very charismatic man from time to time. And the chaos gods which are currently kinda wearing Horus’ body like a condom are one of the options presented in this poll. But before your mind gets carried away with the fantasy of hot mean DILF, we have to think: He’s still a DILF. And so his taste in music will be that of a Dad. So get ready for him to blast Imagine Dragons while sexily taking his shirt off. You plead for him to strip faster, not because you’re horny but because you hope that when he does so he’ll turn the rock & roll cover of Thunder off and fuck you properly. He won’t. 1/10.

Jaghatai: No words other than those of approval. No thoughts other than those of lust. 9/10.

Ferrus Manus pre-heresy: Not sure why you specified pre-heresy but maybe I don’t have enough imagination for a post-heresy lewding scenario, but I digress. So I feel that the sex wouldn’t be the main draw of the situation here, instead it’s more to do with trying to make a guy feel better about a body part that he wants to peel his metal-skin off of. Ferrus is a dude that has simultaneously given all of his children body dysmorphia (that they try to fix by replacing their body parts with tech) while also wanting to get rid of the most technological part of himself. And he won’t even tell people a direct answer about where he got the technological metal hands from anyway. This man is an enigma and the sex is just a backdrop for the true scenario; which is the Ferrus Manus character exploration that’s going on. So to judge purely by the sex itself it’s a solid 5/10.

Daemon Magnus: This dude will not only do all of what you specified. But he’ll also add Gale from bg3 astral plane type sex into the mix. The only limit is your imagination Babey!!! 11/10 (he may have used his psychic powers to mess with the rating).

Leman Russ: What’s not to love about a big scary man in a collar? What’s not to love about a living war machine getting restrained like they’re a simple animal?? Though him eventually breaking out of it would imply that my skills in Husband husbandry are poor, and that might make me kind of sad. 7/10 (would change it to 8/10 if you also put a muzzle on him)

Pre-Heresy Fulgrim: The number one rule of kink fantasy is that nothing will work out as perfectly as you want it to, something will always go differently than it did in your imagination because, fun fact, your partner is not a mind reader (and even if they were it’s not like they can control every action/reaction they do/have). If you fuck him he will be very very very disappointed in you and will act like a bitch about it. 3/10 (the sex stops midway through because you ruined his expectations too many times).

Rogal Dorn: The way im about to sexualise that middle aged man. Oh boy… well first of all I’ll- [REDACTED BY THE INQUISITION. SUMMONS A DAEMON OF SLAANESH IF THE TEXT IS READ OUT LOUD]. 9.5/10.

30k Corvus Corax: Now while he can’t be perceived, I can. In fact I am very perceivable. Unlike Corvus’ furtive emo outfits my fashion sense consists of wearing the most sparkly and shiny accessories all the time and in very large quantities. I dress as though I’m trying to sound like one of santa’s reindeer or a sentient human windchime. And my penchant to talk very loudly knows no bounds. So combining his extreme stealth with my extreme unstealth gives us the average of The Normal Amount Of Noticeability. Which would get us both arrested for indecent exposure. 0/10 because i don’t want to go to jail.

Sanguinius: also a pretty good option. Though I question how a man who had big issues with being deified by the mortal populace would feel about having his more “angelic” features worshipped. But I’m sure I can make it work. 7.5/10.

In conclusion: the vote goes to Magnus, but if he wasn’t there then Dorn would be attaining the title of “babygirl” real fucking fast.

Time to /finally/ answer some asks. This isn't a knock on you by any means, or anyone who's sent asks. I'm just not very good at it lol

Robby G: Listen. L i s t e n. This man is 1. the type to have a schedule for sex (nothing wrong with that if thats what people are into) and 2. the type to take it in the butt. He deserves it in the butt. Yes, he is a space war criminal. But wouldn't it be nice to put it in him?

Horse: I'm sorry, the image of an Imagine Dragons striptease is... enlightening as to the individual Horus is. He's the dad that hosts the barbecue parties. He's the dad that falls asleep watching TV. Hell, he probably wears Hawaiian shirts. (That last one's got me bricked up. Shit)

Jagh: This one got me. He fucking would be into leather, be it on him or his partner. May write a fic about it in the future. Dead serious

Ferrus: Ok, I'll admit it, this one was self-indulgent for me. Yes, Ferrus is an ass in canon. I also want him so bad, and that also entails helping him through some shit. (It's the "I can fix him" instinct.) Also, if his partner isn't ok with 17 inches, that's understandable. (Also also, I specified pre-Heresy because him coming back headless horseman style is kind of a pipe dream of mine)

Mags: Monsters are hot. Next guy

Russ: This one was a bit of a gift for my Russ fucker friend. You know who you are! And if you're a Russ fucker anyways, please be my friend

Fulgrim: This man has been through so many partners and he still doesn't understand kink very well, bless his heart. He's still gotta make sure everything goes the way he thought it would, otherwise what's even the point? Mm. Maybe he can be put with someone who makes him realize that it doesn't need to be that way.. ;v

Doorknob: Go ahead, sexualize the brick wall man. Put him in a maid dress. He'd like his partner to be a little rough, especially during... ahem. Encounters. Remember the Rogal Dorn position? Maybe not all the time, but fuck, this man needs to take it like his life depends on it.

Corax: Not for everyone, I get it. Especially if your clothes are like that. I applaud your fashion sense, you dress how I've always wanted to. But that fic's still rattling around in my mind. Thank you Raven Lady we all say in unison

Sang: You raise a very good point. I don't know how comfortable he'd be with focus on his more non-human qualities. But it can work. I have faith in you, battle brother.

[ohanny]

so @cryingatships posted about pit babe cam boy au ideas (the north and sonic one will flourish in my brain rent free for the next forever) which reminded me i also wrote one for kenta and kim way back when and i just want to add to their genius because we need more spicy pit babe ideas

again, gets nsfw below the cut:

where introvert kenta finally moves out of his dad’s house and finds a room to rent for suspiciously cheap in a suspiciously nice apartment. he asks some questions because he's not stupid but kim’s all "don't worry, i can afford it and to be honest, i kinda get lonely” and well, it is a really good deal. how likely is it that kenta would end up living with a human trafficking evil overlord twice, anyway? like kim literally could not be worse than his father.

their cohabitation works brilliantly but after two months of living together, kenta comes home from work early to discover the reason why kim can afford their rental agreement and seems to have all the time in the world for his hobbies is not because he's some nepo baby but because he has an insanely lucrative career as a cam boy and an only fans star. because there kim is, dressed in a sheer robe and stockings, washing a sparkly pink dildo in the middle of their open kitchen.

kim, defiant: i am not ashamed of what i do and if it bothers you, you can move out.

kenta whose brain has blue screened and is currently making beep boop noises: gah 

but once kenta manages to stammer out he is fine with kim’s chosen career, kim stops hiding. partly because he's a petty bitch and wants to see if kenta is actually fine with it or if he's a closeted homophobe who really likes cheap rent and partly because sneaking around his own home is super annoying and he would much rather do his make up in the living room because the big windows provide the best light. also, it would be super helpful if kenta could lend him a hand with his lighting system because it takes ages to figure out all the angles alone.

kenta is totally having a crisis because kim is just so confident and self-assured and after he finishes filming, he will sit in the living room eating pizza in old sweats, regaling kenta with tales of cringy comments from old men and other streaming misfortunes from buying the most disgustingly tasting flavored lube to getting a cramp in the middle of riding his toys.

but then one evening kenta comes home to kim stabbing a salad, looking sulky, and he’s like “what, no pizza tonight?” and kim rolls his eyes and explains one of his top donors made a comment about how he's been gaining weight lately with a self-deprecating “i guess i got a bit too carried away with the take out and beer with you.”

kenta is offended. he might go on a little rant about how that man must be blind on top of an absolute imbecile and should go fuck himself for a change and kim is beautiful no matter what he eats and in kenta’s personal opinion actually looks much better now compared to the rail thin twink thing he had going on when kenta first moved in. kim stares up at him, wide eyed and in awe.

kenta, blushing and starting to stutter again: anyway… no one should be allowed to tell anyone what to do with their bodies and you should just block them because you don't need someone like that in your space and i will just go to my room now bye

kim, jumping to his feet to grab kenta: the fuck you are, come here -

and yes, they kiss and it's amazing but kim is still hesitant because “you're really okay with all this? because i don't plan on stopping anytime soon, i like what i do” and kenta sheepishly admits that he sometimes watches kim’s streams on a burner account.

kim: you know you'd get a much better view on the other side of the wall?

kenta: oh.

kim: that was an invitation, dummy.

kenta: OH

kim is right. the view is so much better on the other side of the wall. kim is stunning and looks and sounds so fucking good and having kenta there is totally helping him get in the mood and put on an even better show. if the live chat gets a rising frequency of comments along the lines of “is it just me or is kim looking at someone behind the camera?” well, it adds to the mystique?

and really, it's inevitable that - once he gets comfortable - kenta snaps in a moment of horny insanity and ends up revealing himself. it's friday and kim is on all fours, fucking himself with the infamous pink, sparkly dildo but he’s not able to reach quite right and he keeps begging and cursing at the camera and kenta’s brain just goes “well, i could help.” he doesn't think. he just gets out of his chair, ducks past the camera and swats kim’s hand away to grab the base of the dildo and then smoothly slides it all the way in.

it’s only when kim’s arms give out and he slumps down with a guttural moan that kenta realizes they’re still very much live. he snatches his hand back but before he can stumble completely out of the frame, kim whines “fuck, come back, sorry guys but i don't give a shit” into the pillow and the chat goes WILD when kenta is helpless to do anything other what he's told. he uses the dildo to fuck kim into, through and past a devastating prostate orgasm and once he has regained his senses, kim ends the stream with a breathless giggle and a “sorry to cut the outro tonight but clearly me and my roommate need to have a talk.”

kenta: roommate?

kim: i mean, i'd prefer boyfriend because i'm pretty sure i'm in love with you but -

kenta: boyfriend sounds good.

and they live happily ever after. kenta helps kim with his accounts, clothes and photoshoots and on special occasions, joins his streams and videos. kim charges double for everything they do as a couple and all that extra money is certainly helping him in convincing kenta to quit the office job he's way too qualified for and find what he really wants to do in life. they adopt three cats and kenta moves all his things into kim’s room and everything is beautiful and nothing hurts.

[afyrian]

ch. six - a home away from home masterlist

    you get off of the train, pulling your backpack close to your shoulder. the sky is filled with clouds that droop with soon to come rain. "yeah, just got here. i just can't wait til the weekend ends," you hold your phone up to your ear, looking around the train station to see if you can see your mom.

  "it's just a couple days, and you know you can call 'samu or i whenever," atsumu's voice echoes through your ear, the volume a little more gentle than you're typically accustomed to. 

  it had been awhile since you stepped foot in your hometown. everything overwhelms you with feelings of nostalgia. yet everything seems so different. the newly planted trees have aged and sprouted into gorgeous flowers, the train station is painted over with a luscious green. and in the middle of it all is a red sudan.

  it's chipped, dented a little in the back, and filled with so many memories. the wheels are covered in grime and the very person you fear to see once again, happens to be sitting in the front seat. she has on chunky earrings, a workout tank top showing off the australian sun she had encountered. 

  you want to wait a moment to see if she'll notice you. see if she'll coming running out of the car and urging you for a hug. however, she sits there, typing on her phone. you look back at the train, almost forgetting atsumu was on the other end of the phone, "i think i might just come home."

  "y/n, we'll support you no matter what you do," he tries to sound soothing, yet his voice never seems to come across that way.

  "thanks, if need be, i'll take the train home."

  you take in a deep breath and cancel the call, shoving your phone into your back pocket. every step you take towards the muddied car is every butterfly in your stomach multiplying. blackness covers your peripheral vision and for a moment you wonder if you'll pass out. you stop for a second and take in a deep breath, knowing that you can step away whenever. 

  when you get meters away from the car, you can see she knows it's you. the way she lowers her phone and her sunglasses, eyes staring back at you with the intensity of ten suns. she lowers the window on the passenger smile and attempts to give you a warm smile. "thanks for coming this weekend, honey."

  the way she says it brings you back to when you were younger. back to when your dad would usher the same word but make it sound oh so much better. he'd swing you around on the beach and teach you everything you wanted to learn. but when she says it, it leaves a bitter taste in your mouth. "yeah, it's been a while, so i thought it was time," you open the car door, sliding in next to her.

  "well, akai is waiting for us, he's made some lunch. some of your favorite things. i wanna try for us and i'm thinking that he may be proposing soon..." she smiles towards you, reaching her hand out towards you. 

  you look over at her, swallowing the thick mucus coating your throat. you had met akai so many years ago, when the two of them were simply two people in recovery together. but now everything's changing, you can't even return to your hometown without everything flipping upside down on you, "okay."

  she starts driving, trying to ignore the malice lacing your voice. however, you've always found that she likes to start an argument where one never needed to exist, "why can't you just trust that i'm doing what's best?"

  "because you haven't since dad died. and now you're dating someone who you used to binge drink with and expect me to think that you're what's best for each other?" you can't bear to look at her, staring ahead at the backroads that she starts driving down.

  "that's not your decision to make. especially because you haven't seen either of us in years."

  you shake your head, biting the inside of your cheek. "you're right! i wonder why that is.."

  she takes a moment to take in a deep breath. you didn't want to fight with her this trip, especially when you only came to visit your dad. however, hearing her voice when it used to be such a soothing thing can send someone over the edge. now, all you can remember is the hatred and resentment that she expressed over and over again. 

  "you don't know what it's like to lose the love of your life-"

  "and you think losing a dad isn't just as hard? and then losing your mom all in the same day? let me out of the car," you finally turn to look at her, clenching your jaw upon realizing that you can't stay with her.

  she peeks over at you, biting her lip. "i can't just let you out on the side of the road, why don't we talk about it? you can see akai again and really get to know him!" she begs, staring out at the upcoming beach and the greenery, unable to meet your eyes now.

  "no! let out me out! i have finals coming up, i don't wanna deal with this right now! just- just let me out of the car!" you finally reach the point of practically yelling, your heart racing, hands shaking. 

  finally, she slows to a stop, free leg bouncing nervously. she turns to look at you, finally realizing that no matter what she does, there's been too much pain. and that pain has unfortunately overpowered whatever happy memories the two of you went through together. that you're still hurting, even if you wanted to ignore it. 

  she watches as you open the car door, exiting with the little duffel bag you brought along. you can take in a deep breath and turn to look back at her, "bye, m- uh goodbye."

  the word 'mom' couldn't exit your mouth, your lips seal shut before you could utter it. you can tell that she notices it, she notices the change in demeanor, the way you shut the door. she can tell that truly, nothing's changed, that the little girl that used to play in the sand with her doesn't exist anymore. she drives off without much of a fight, leaving you standing on a boardwalk, tears already falling. 

  and at the seemingly worst time, your phone starts ringing, akaashi's name written across your screen. you bring your hand up, wiping away the tears that rest on your cheek, "hi, akaashi."

  "l/n, sorry to call- are you okay?"

  "yeah, yeah. i forgot to tell you but i took the train to my hometown. but i'm probably taking the next train back home," you shake your head, hoping it'll keep the tears from falling more.

  he waits a moment before trying to say something to easy your pain. “well, are you by any chance by the ocean? because the air can help anything,” akaashi starts, you can almost see the small smile on his face, “it’s always been my home- second home. the calls of the birds and the waves hitting the rocks, like just sit there for a moment and it can help anything.”

  you smile to yourself, hearing the sound of the joy in his voice. no matter how nonchalant he can seem, it’s clear that the ocean is his passion. “i’ll have to give it a try, i grew up practically on the water so i can understand the benefits,” you laugh, genuinely, as you think about how much you enjoy talking to akaashi.

“but thank you, akaashi, i needed that,” you walk onto the sand, feeling the mist and breeze relax you.

“i’m always free to talk. about anything really. i can even come to the train station if you need me to,” his voice drifts off, as if he were nervous to suggest it.

you close your eyes and just stand for a moment. “that would be amazing, you’re making my day a whole lot better…”

a/n: we’re finally getting some hints about his identity.. taglist: @zombriesworld

[minimomoe]

Love Bites pt. 4

Cute little babies in cute little Halloween costumes

Baker Fem Reader x Toji Fushiguro (mafia au)

word ct: 15.1k, 11 Chapters

Chapters: I. II. III. IV. V. VI. VII. VIII. IX. X. XI.

Preview: When everyone’s attention is focused on the glittering light show Megumi looks back at his dad, and sees that you are standing much closer to him than before. He squints, noticing that you have your pinkies entwined together before fully enclosing each other’s hands...

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Chapter Four: Apple Cider

“Rina, you lied to me. You make it sound like you teach the spawns of satan but all these kids look absolutely adorable.”

“They are spawns of satan,” Rina hisses quietly, making sure no other teachers can hear her. You shake your head in disbelief. “Of course they are on their best behavior now. Nobody wants ISS.”

“Well I think that they are adorable. I mean, there’s mini Princess Tiana and tiny Jack Sparrow. That’s a crossover I never thought I would see,” You point at the kids who came dressed up for the fall festival. There were different booths open, from games, to food, to arts and crafts, and apparently the school had a special surprise as the finale. 

“I guess they’re not all bad,” Rina grumbles. 

Three kids walked up to Reyna’s booth, their costumes bringing a bright smile to her face. The child in the middle looked familiar to you but you couldn’t quite put your finger on it. 

“And what can I get the vampire queen, Frankenstein, and the werewolf today? I have caramel brownie bites, mini cinnamon rolls, and peppermint bark. Oh, and I also have apple cider,” you display. 

“I’m Frankenstein’s monster. Mary Shelley never gave the monster a name,” says the kid in the middle. Your eyebrows shot up in surprise.

“You’ve read Frankenstein already? I didn’t have to read that until high school,” you blink. The little kid just shrugs his shoulders.

“How much do we have to pay you? I would like some brownie bites,” says the vampire queen. She has a hand held mirror and checks her fangs in it. 

“It’s all free. Just let me know what you want.”

“Then I want one of everything and some cider!” Says the werewolf.

“Yuji, leave some for other people.”

“What? She said it’s free,” Yuji looks back at you and you nod your head. “See Nobara!”

“Fine. I’d like to have a brownie bite and peppermint bark then. What about you, Megumi?”

Megumi was about to order until he read your apron. It was the same flourish of cursive letters that he had seen on the boxes his dad brought home. His eyes narrow suspiciously, pointing his finger at your clothes. 

“Are you the owner of Love Bites?”

You chuckle nervously. “Yes…why?”

“And you’re dressed like a witch?”

“The Wicked Witch of the West, yes.”

“Megumi, you might be right. She really did curse your dad,” Yuji says with a mouth full of brownies. Megumi scowls at him, but his face looks so much like his father that you had to hold back a laugh. 

“So you’re Toji’s son? It’s lovely to meet you. I promise, I did not curse your dad to be a slave to my baked goods.”

“Yeah. You haven’t given him your cookie yet,” Rina whispers in your ear, making you smack her arm. 

“My dad was eating a jelly donut once, your jelly donut. He has never eaten those before. The jelly fell on his pants, and he just stared at it for a really long time. I think the sugar is rotting his brain since he keeps on going back to buy more.” 

You snort but you couldn’t get mad at the child. He says everything so matter-of-factly you almost felt compelled to agree with him. “How about you taste one of my treats and you can come to your own conclusion?”

Megumi narrows his eyes again, but the pretty lady didn’t set off any alarms in his head. He takes a caramel brownie bite and takes his time to really chew it. You, Rina, Yuji, and Nobara stand in anticipation as you await Megumi’s verdict. After what seemed to be ages Megumi swallows and looks back to you. You lean in close when he opens his mouth to sigh.

“I don’t hate it.”

You turn and high five Rina while Nobara hands Yuji a one dollar bill. “I told you he would like her eventually,” he smirks. Nobara shakes her head in despair and clings to Megumi’s shoulder. “What happened to your cold heart? I just lost money because you want to be nice.”

“I may be a hater but I won’t be a liar,” Megumi grumbles, taking a cup of apple cider to wash down the snack. 

“I’m glad that you liked it,” you swell, and Megumi really couldn’t get himself to dislike the mystery baker lady like he had planned to. 

“Megumi, there you are!” Huffed Toji. He was in his customary black suit, except his hair was pushed back and you couldn’t help but to stare. Toji’s eyes bounced between Megumi and Reyna, and then to you and Rina, then back to Megumi. He nods to you before turning his attention back to his kid.

“The fireworks are about to start,” Toji said carefully. “Let’s go get a good spot.”

Megumi could tell the nervous look in his father’s eyes as he looked at you like he wanted to say something but couldn’t. Frankenstein’s monster turned to look at you. “Do you want to come with us?”

You start to decline but Rina jumps in. “I’ll take it from here. I’m not a fan of fireworks and I see them every year. Go, have some fun,” she winks. 

You look at Toji and he looks hopeful. He sees her wearing the earmuffs and beanie that he had bought you a week before and he smiles . Not a wide, opened mouth smile, but you have studied his facial expressions long enough to know that he was beyond happy and you blush, following them to an open spot on the field. The kids trail in front of the two adults and whisper among themselves.

“Megumi, your dad should be holding her hand. Why isn’t he doing that?” Nobara hisses.

“He’s a slowpoke that’s why. Why do you even care?”

“She’s pretty and she can bake. We’d be dumb not to like her,” Yuji answers. Megumi scowls at them but before he can answer the fireworks start.

When everyone’s attention is focused on the glittering light show Megumi looks back at his dad, and sees that you are standing much closer to him than before. He squints, noticing that you have your pinkies entwined together before fully enclosing each other’s hands, and when Toji’s eyes fall on his son’s, he gives a father a sharp nod before turning back to listen to his friends try to shout louder than the fireworks. 

Chapters: I. II. III. IV. V. VI. VII. VIII. IX. X. XI.

[whinlatter]

hope (harry/ginny) | a microfic

for @hinnymicrofic day 14 | prompt: hope (slightly nsfw!)

They lug their trunks across the Burrow’s yard in sweaty, stony silence. ‘Beautiful evening,’ her mother remarks, as her children clamber back over the threshold of the rickety old house. ‘I do hope we get more of this lovely sunshine.’ 

Stupid thing to say, she thinks, stupid thing to hope for. There's a wishbone out drying on the kitchen window sill. Wonders if her mother plans to waste it wishing for more good weather in the middle of a war.

Dinner is shepherd’s pie - her old favourite, a Molly classic, and yet it tastes like dust, like ash, like nothing. ‘I know you’ve had a tricky time, dear,’ her mother says gently. She stiffens, glares at Ron, traitor, but then - ‘what with your exams being cancelled - and right when you’d done all that work -’ so she's safe, then, goes back to moving mash potato around her plate. ‘Made of real shepherds,’ her dad says, weak smile, trying his best. She gulps down her mouthful and excuses herself, slams the bedroom door shut, finds she's shaking.

Lying on her back on her bed, staring at the sunset’s stains on the ceiling, the only sound the late summer birdsong out of the open window. Quiet, too quiet, for a house this full. Downstairs, the kitchen’s all whispers. Every now and then she hears an unfamiliar footstep creak on the landing, strangers on the staircase. Headquarters, now. The war’s come home, and it’s using their loo.

She’d got her hopes up, that's the thing. First mistake, stupid. He’d been telling the story of Ron’s camp-bed collapsing in on him that time, lying back on his elbows under their tree with his hair ragged, handsome. She’d laughed, see, and said well, maybe this summer we’ll spare you the indignity of the campbed and being dense, he’d said well Fred and George’s room was nice if you don’t mind the smell of soot. She’d rolled her eyes, said Potter can you really not notice when a girl’s trying to get you into her bed. He’d gone red, then, stammered a bit, but it was all over his face: the wonder, the want. Your mum will go ballistic, he’d muttered, but he’d said will not would, and his hand had toyed with her hip, fingertips trailed her thigh. He’d wanted it too. He’d thought they’d have it, thought they'd get the summer, at least. 

We could’ve had ages, he’d said. Months, years, maybe. Stupid, stupidest thing, hope. No use for it.

It’d have been cramped. He’d have had to sneak down from Ron’s room, under the cloak. She’d have shown him her Harpies poster, now this is what a proper team looks like, Potter, worn her nice pyjamas, the ones with the shorts, asked him to take them off. Cleared a space for his glasses on the bedside table. He'd have slept on the right, nearest the door, ever on guard, and stroked her cheek with his knuckles, looked at her that way, like she’s precious. It would have been like that time they’d fallen asleep under their tree, heads together - the time she’d slipped up, let herself imagine it: two bodies in a bed in a house with a garden, laughter, little people running around who’d look a bit like them both. 

Stupid, stupid thing. Grips the bedspread in both fists, banishes it: all of it, all the hope. File away that future, bury it. Kill your darlings, push them out to sea.

Knock at the door. Ron, with two cups of tea and a half-empty box of Caramel Kappas. ‘Thought you might want some company,’ he mutters, sheepish, sitting on the bed. She sighs, no fight in her, and so brother and sister sit, sipping, in birdsonged silence. 

‘How are you doing?’ he asks. She means to snap - how do you think I’m doing - but takes one look at him and finds she’s fresh out of spite. ‘You’re going away with him, aren’t you?’ she says, instead. Ron nods, and it’s awful, all ache, terrible, gaping grief, all this filling in the blanks of everything that she’s losing. 

‘I just hoped,’ she says, eventually, eyes on her knees, ‘we’d have more time. I know - I know it was stupid.’

That’s all of it, really, isn’t it: her great failing, uttered aloud. Crumples, then, beside her big brother, and cries, heaping earth on all the hope as they lower it into the grave. Stupid thing, useless thing.

She thinks about the wishbone downstairs on the window sill. Thinks how stupid, how stupid it is, for something to die, and someone to make wishes out of its bones.

A/N: did not intend to write this, blame @brightlybound for this one - turns out gentle demands for a ginny's pov companion piece to yesterday’s fic will absolutely work on me, also Twenty-Two Days remains the h/g dual pov love story of all time for me so wanted to do a tribute. enjoy/sorry! back to regular writing now i swear!

now up on AO3 here | ask me anything

[erendur]

Crack Silm relationships I'd like to read about III

4. Melian and Finwë

One of the reasons I don’t like Thingol as a character is that he is arguably married to the most awesome female character in the whole of the First Age (even though all of the Valar seem to want to have the Elves around them as pets because they find them pretty, she’s the only  one ballsy enough to just decide to take corporeal form and get her very own one. She slays), and doesn’t seem to listen to her one little bit, even though she a) single-handedly keeps his kingdom safe ; b) is also very much able/eager to be a top-notch political advisor, given how she gets Galadriel to spill the beans about the whole Noldor situation and her reaction to the Beren one.

So I would like Melian to steal herself another Elf instead. I suggest Finwë. I know, I know, after my little introduction about how great Melian is, and how she deserves better than Thingol, that might sound very anti-climactic. Finwë doesn’t have the best record as a husband (two (2) very unhappy wives, a record among the Eldar). But clearly Melian suffers from a common affliction among great women, Having a Terrible Taste in Men, so frankly at this point I’d just like for her to go for Finwë, to finally have the answer to the great question of “How Much of a Shit Dad Finwë Really Is ?”

Because the whole rivalry/tension within his family is usually put down to the fact that his first wife died. Cue Dead Mother Trauma for Fëanor, questionable decision to remarry, strife between the children of his two different marriages (aggravated by Satanic intervention and lies).

But Melian, who is a Maia, could potentially have as many children as Finwë wants without fading (I know that she canonically only has one, but maybe Thingo and her were happy with just the one ? She’s a Maia not an Elf, so she probably does not get baby fever like the Elves do). So Finwë could have all three of his canonical children, and maybe even more. If Fëanor comes out super fiery she’ll be fine, her body is basically like a dress, she can make herself a new dress and still be around for Baby n°2.

And we can maybe finally know is, being born of the same mother, Fëanor and Fingolfin will finally get along, or if Finn’s style of parenting more than the Dead Mother incident was more to blame, after all.

Bonus : Fëanor would grow up away from Valinor and the Valar, free to roam Middle Earth, and so, maybe, a little more well-balanced. No need for a rebellion there. He wouldn’t get to study under Aulë so he might not be as good at the forge as he is in the Silm, plus he wouldn’t learn from Mahtan and Nerdanel either, but if that means he never gets the idea/know-how of how to make the Silmarils, then frankly all the better.

Bonus 2 : for the Fëanor lovers, imagine how AMAZING a half-Maia Eldricht Fëanor would be. I don’t think Morgoth would stand a chance against Fëanor With Sexy Dance Moves And Shadow Hair. I think the War in Middle Earth would be very short. I think half-Maia Eldricht Fëanor would take the crown of Sassiest Sexiest Bitchiest Elf King away from (film) Thranduil. For the Sauron lovers : I think Sauron would take one look at half-Maia Eldricht Fëanor and decide to switch allegiances. They would run a very well-organised kingdom together. 

Bonus 3 : Obviously, half-Maia Eldricht Fingolfin. I think Morgoth would just willingly throw himself in the void and be done with it, at that point.

5. Thingol and Miriel

Conversely, since Thingol makes it to Valinor, he could marry Miriel instead of Melian. They would have one (1) grey-haired child, and call it a day. Thingol is canonically happy with just the one child. I’m 100% of the opinion that Lúthien gets all her weirdness and talents from her mom, so this one would be a fairly average Elf child, that would not consume the living-life out of Miriel’s body coming into this world. Maybe the child could be a daughter, who inherits her mother’s talent at embroidery, and is never heard of in any record except as “Miriel’s Really Talented Girl”.

Thingol is, like Dior, a character that would be greatly improved buy being kept well away from important political decisions, shiny objects and war zones. He would make a good King of the Teleri in Aman.

Bonus : Out of love for his wife, Thingol learns Quenya and is 100% committed to its archaic form and the “th” pronunciation. He issues an edict that bans “si-sa-ing” from his lands, known thereafter as “The Shibboleth of Thingol.” (Nobody cares, but it makes his wife feel supported and they are 10% more happy as a result).

6. Finduilas and Literally Anyone That is Neither Gwindor Nor Túrin

Look, I wish she could just have been happy with Gwindor. He called her “Gleam of the Sun on the Pools of Ivrin”, which sounds really sweet. But she succumbed to the siren calls of the Scruffy Man With Trauma, which apparently works like crack on Noldor maiden, even when, like Túrin, he really couldn’t care less (he could care less, for American readers - I guess he knew her name ?).

So : Oropher, or Thranduil, depending on whichever one works best age-wise (I could theoretically check, but…). She would go and live in another underground Elvish kingdom, pretty much like home, but one that this time manages to avoid being invaded. She would probably have a nice husband, and get to have parties in the woods and drink wine. As long as she keeps away from giant spiders, she would be fine, and eventually sail West. “Happy people have no history”, that’s what I wish for her and therefore have no more to say.

[owmylasagna-blog]

oh nooo i'm sorry you're sick lasagna :( i'm glad your skates came though that's exciting!! i'll still hit you up for some headcanons if you feel like sharing 👀 id love to hear more of your lore for the eds' parents and perhaps bro...

i'm trying to think of my own indulgent headcanon to share that i haven't already told you 🤔 i will say that your use of shania twain in lps made me hc that edd would secretly be a big fan of hers. i know it's kinda ooc but it's really funny to me. he's a sap and her songs can be pretty sappy. there's also a lot of pedal steel in her music which automatically makes me think of him.

oh also will ed and may's wedding be included in lps?

Thanks! I appreciate the message ❤️ I’m so jazzed the skates came! I immediately did a little shimmy around my tiny ass apartment and might take them for a spin on my street once the rain clears up.

Hmmm time to rack my brain for some other headcanons for the Eds’ parents. Let’s see:

I wrote this in like me still but I think Edd’s parents get a divorce once he’s 18. I sort of hint at this but in my mind his folks are more amicable colleagues than romantic partners: not that they don’t care for each other, but they know pretty early on after having Edd that they are more friends than husband and wife. They do a lot of things out of obligation and respectability.

While I imagine most of the parents in the cul-se-sac to know one another (possibly even have grown up together - we love intergenerational beaf), Edd’s parents are an enigma and literally never socialize. This rubs most of their neighbors the wrong way, really pisses off Eddy’s parents, especially his mom, who takes it super personally (and probably rightfully so).

Sort of a popular one, but I also like the idea of Ed and Eddy’s dads being business partners selling used cars. Or actually, Ed’s dad sort of being Eddy’s dad’s superior 👀.

I think Eddy’s parents (I come them Eddy and Carmela, or Lina for short) are middle school sweethearts. Eddy Sr. threw rocks at Lina during 7th grade recess and she beat him with a fence post and the rest is history.

I imagine Ed’s parents having a pretty big age gap, with his dad being like 10 years older than his mom. We all agree Ed’s mom is a miserable housewife, right? And that his dad is a shellshocked vet? Yes?

Okay this is gonna start out sorta dark but stay with me: in college I read this book called Rampage: The Social Roots of School Shootings which informs a lot of my headcanons on Bro. No I don’t think he did anything THAT drastic, but the book outlined more the conditions that cause kids with mental illness to be ignored for the sake up upholding the community appearance if that makes sense? Sweeping concerning behavior under the rug to not raise concern or point fingers at the parents or adults for failing. I sort of see peach creak as a similar town.

@gettingfrilly wrote this too and much more eloquently I might add but I always thought both Bro and Eddy have undiagnosed ADHD.

I could go on but I’ll stop there for everyone’s sake. I get more into Eddy’s family in the next chapters of Ed is Thicker than Mud (;

Hahahaha no I love Edd being a Shania fan 😂 sometimes headcanons that are a little ooc add to the world building. Dude contains multitudes. I also like to imagine Edd’s taste in music being a strange mix of experimental obscure + borderline cheesy (I was just listening to the OST for Xanadu by Olivia Newton-John/ELO that makes me think of Edd for some reason). But I’ve never thought of connecting the pedal steel guitar in Shania Twain’s music with Edd. Maybe he can serenade Eddy… 😛

Yes! The EdMay wedding is meant to be the last chapter *cough* I mean. The thrilling conclusion. Heh. Though I imagine at least 4 more chapters between where I’ve left off and the end of the fic.

[bloodyknucklesforme]

Ribs | Gaz X Nina AU

This is a little sampling of the restaurant AU I've been drabbling in my docs for months now. Gaz and Nina are basically childhood friends and the same age so 26ish. Their dad's were in the military with Price, who now runs the restaurant they both work at. It's pretty much just smut and banter. Enjoy 💞

"Didn't think you were ever going to buzz me in," Kyle said walking into Nina's flat. He had a large brown paper bag in one hand and bottle of wine in the other.

"You brought me food." She shrugged, already grabbing plates and glasses. Her flat was small railway studio. The kitchen on the far wall, a small dining area followed by a couch the blocked off the living area which then backed into a foldable room divider that her bed sat behind. The singular bathroom was on the other wall. Kyle wasn't a huge fan of it, always felt cramped, except for the large windows on the one side that always let in light either from the sun or surrounding city.

"Is that all you want me for? Food?" He asked, purposefully pressing himself against her back as he placed the bag on the counter.

"You're good for other things, I guess."

"Like covering your shifts?"

"Definitely that." She elbowed him gently to move him out of the way as she unpacked the bag. "How was tonight?"

"Fine. It's a Tuesday," He shrugged as he opened up the wine bottle.

"Was Price pissed off?"

"Like he could be mad at you." He poured for both of them. "He might be upset I stole this bottle though."

"No one was going to drink this anyways." They clinked glasses and drank, eyeing each other over the edge of the glasses. They both finished, Nina first, winning at their unspoken competition. She handed him his plate. "You pick the movie?"

"I always pick the movie," He said.

"That's because you say my choices are garbage." She climbed over the back of the couch. Kyle walked around and sat down next to her, shoving the wine bottle between the cushions.

"That's because you only want to watch old James Bond films."

"They're good!"

"Not the ones you like." He wrapped an arm around her shoulder and pulled her into his side. He took the remote in one hand and started flipping through all the options.

"How about this one?" He asked.

"Heard it was shite." She used her fork to pick up a bite of pasta from his plate and feed it to him.

"You're impossible," He shook his head.

"I have Die Another Day on blu-ray."

"No."

They eventually settled on a middling comedy that was ignored within twenty minutes.

Half a bottle of wine and Nina was straddling his lap, their empty plates sitting on the coffee table. His hands raking up and down her back as she grinded against him. She tasted like wine and black pepper. He broke the kiss to pull her shirt over her head. It was actually his shirt at one point. One for a band he'd stopped listening to years ago.

He cupped one of her breasts and rolled her nipple between his fingers before taking it in his mouth. He always liked how her body jumped when his tongue first made contact. Her nails found their way to the back of his neck.

"Kyllllllleeee," She moaned. He stopped and rested his chin on her sternum, just above her breasts. She let out a disapointed sigh. "You're an ass."

"You gonna tell me why you didn't come to work today?" He asked, giving his best puppy dog eyes.

"Just an off day," she shrugged.

Kyle rubbed her back. Twenty years of friendship and she still refused to admit she couldn't lie to him. She could lie through her teeth to Price or Kate but never him. He watched her lie her whole childhood.

"You avoiding Ghost?" He asked. It did annoy him how she refused to talk about the older man. They danced around each other in person and in conversation. They went from being at each other's throats, screaming about dishes being remade and speed of orders, to a timid softness. Nods and patience unnatural behaviors from either of them.

"I'm not avoiding Simon." She scoffed.

"Simon? You on a first name basis now?" He held her as she tried to get up, now concerned. "Hey, did something happen? Nina, if he did anything we can tell Price. I don't want you-"

"We slept together. Okay? That's all," She snapped, crossing her arms over her chest.

"Is that it?" Kyle arched an eyebrow, he was relieved to say the least. "You could have told me that."

"I felt bad."

"Why would you feel bad? We're not dating, Nina," he chuckled. "You can sleep with whoever you want."

"I know but it's kind of slutty to sleep with a co-worker."

"We're co-workers."

"Yeah but we slept together before that," she laughed.

"Don't tell Price but last week I hooked up with the Irish guy that works at Kors."

"The ginger?" She exclaimed, laying her hands on his chest and leaning in close. "He's hot."

"He is. Name is Declan but they all call him Conor."

"And you were giving me shit for being on a first name basis with Ghost." They laughed and he traced her spine up and down.

"Can I kiss you again?" He asked.

Nina leaned down and brought him back into a kiss.

"Hold on," He grunted, wrapping an arm around her waist and lifting them both up from the couch. She giggled into his neck.

"I want to be on top."

"You won't get tired?"

"I'm a big girl, Kyle."

He dropped her on the bed and started to strip. There was a comfort of familiarity. They didn't need to be self conscious or awkward. Nina was his best friend. He knew her inside and out, literally. He still liked to watch her shrug off her sweats and panties. He liked to run his hand over the curve of her ass before smacking back down playfully.

He dug through her nightstand for a condom.

"Let me," she said, taking it from him. He finished stripping as she opened it. She sat on the edge of the bed as he stood in front of her. His thumb resting on her bottom lip as she rolled the condom on. He moaned softly as she stroked him. He pushed his thumb into her mouth and she sucked on it, bobbing her head softly. One of her hands rested on his hip, fingers drumming, while the other continued to stroke him. She rubbed her thighs together.

"Greedy thing, getting wet just from this," he murmured, resting his other hand on the back of her head, letting his fingers tangle in her hair. He always came back to her because it was easy and simple. A comfort food, a comfort fuck. They didn't always fuck when he came over, it was just a bonus.

He sucked in a breath as took the tip of his cock into her mouth. Even through the latex her mouth was hot. She bobbed her head till she had him half way. A string of spit kept her connected as she pulled back.

"I'm sorry. I can't stand the taste," she said, making a face. He laughed and wiped her mouth off. He made a mental note to get tested so they go forgo the condom during foreplay next time.

"You ready?" He asked, pushing her hair behind her ears.

"Lay down," she patted his thigh.

He ruffled her hair as he climbed onto the bed, laying back on her large assortment of pillows. Her bed was always comfortable and smelled clean.

He spread out his legs a little and beckoned her over. She crawled over him, capturing his lips again. He reached a hand between her legs, spreading her open. She was slick. She whimpered into his mouth as he rubbed her clit with his thumb. He chuckled, she was headstrong and stubborn until he had his hands on her. He took his cock and rubbed it through her folds.

"Kyle!" she whined.

"Take what you want, love. You wanted to be on top."

She straightened up, a flush ran from her cheeks down to her stomach. He held her elbow steady as she lowered herself down on his cock. She threw her head back as she sank down. He breathed deeply as he watched his cock disappear inside of her.

"Oh fuck.." She groaned as he bottomed out. Her thighs were already shaking and she had a dazed look on her face.

"Giving up so soon?" He asked, rocking her hips for her.

"Leave me alone. I had two glasses of wine." She groaned, holding his shoulders for support.

"So did I," He grunted as he thrusted upwards. "So much for being a big girl."

He flipped them. She stretched out her arms and closed her eyes, humming contently.

"You're really making me do all your work today, aren't ya?" He growled against her neck.

"I'll make it up to you in the morning," She said, hooking a leg around his waist.

"Are you going to fall asleep again?" He asked, thrusting slowly.

"That was one time," she yawned. "I worked a clopen close that day."

"Just keep your eyes on me, yeah?" He pressed a kiss to her forehead as he picked up his speed. The headboard bounced against the room divider. He panted against her forehead as he found his rhythm, the kind that had her making a noise to punctuate every thrust. She would clench around him whenever he hit that sweet spot."I love this fucking pussy."

"Is that all you want me for? Pussy?" She teased.

"And your arse." He gave her a light smack on the side of her ass.

He felt his pleasure building up in his stomach and spreading through his back and legs, the muscles becoming taught. Her back was arching and her legs squirmed.

"Cum on my cock, Nina. I need you to cum on my cock," He sucked on her earlobe. She clung to him.

"Oh fuck...Kyle...fuck..."

"Good girl. Cumming for me," He groaned. She always sent him over the edge when she finished. His thrusted hard, grunting into her hair as he came.

They laid there, both panting and him growing soft inside her. She ran her fingers up and down his back, soothing the wounds her nails made. They would shower the next morning, he'd make coffee while she made eggs. It was the usual.

"So, how is The Ghost in bed?" He asked.

"I don't kiss and tell," She answered, rolling her eyes at him.

"That bad?"

She slapped his arm.

"I'm allowed to be curious," he laughed, rolling off of her. "My real question is if you think he'd be down for a threesome."

She gave him a look and rolled her eyes again.

"If not him, there is the new guy."

"New guy?"

"A Scot. I know you like the accent." He poked her shoulder. "You can meet him during clean up night this weekend."

"I'm not working clean up night this weekend."

"You are now. Kleo asked if someone could cover for her and you were nice enough to offer."

"Oh I hate you."

"Simon will be there too."

She groaned.

"You're evil."

"You love me."

"I do." She kissed his cheek and got up from the bed. "You need to clean up before you sleep in my bed."

"Yes, ma'am," He followed.

It was three in the morning by the time they had the lights off and his arms were around her again.

"I wasn't joking about the threesome," he whispered.

"Go to sleep."

Tagging the Gaz and Nina lovers 💕: @water-bearz @gogh-with-the-flow @queen-ilmaree @macravishedbymactavish

Idk If'll post anything else in this AU but if I do it'll probably be more smut.

[alltimefail-sims]

Joseph "Joey" Harris-Ruiz Submission for @wrixie's Juliana!

The Basics: -> Human; He/Him (and Trans!) -> Bisexual Disaster -> Born in Moonwood Mill, but his parents divorced when he was like 5, so he floated between there and Selvadorada. Currently he's just vibing, not settled to any one place. -> Young Adult (irl probably like 28 y.o.)

Details below the cut! ↓

Joey's traits are: Loves the Outdoors, Loner, and Hotheaded. He has also has two additional traits (from self-discovery): Good + Maker.

I used CC pretty sparingly; most of the stuff he wears is from the horse pack. I have the Wonderful Whims mod as well, and his preferences have been set with that! Just clarifying, for funsies: his mom lives in Selvadorada and his dad is from Moonwood Mill.

-> His current aspiration is: Outdoor Enthusiast. He has completed the Master Maker aspiration already and currently works as a freelance crafter.

-> Education: He dropped out of high school and has yet to finish... he might never go back. Who knows!

-> His likes include: Alternative and Retro music (he has the music taste of a middle-aged dad). His favorite color is orange. His hobbies include handiness, cooking, fishing, gardening, singing, and playing guitar. He likes hearing people's deep thoughts, complaints, and joking around (he is a huuuuuge smartass who copes and deflects with humor and sarcasm, unfortunately). His favorite kind of sims are argumentative, cerebral, nature enthusiasts.

-> His dislikes include: DJ Booth, Electronica, and Disco music. If it's related to school or academics, you can guarantee that he hates it lmao: i.e. writing or research and debate. Small talk makes his skin crawl. He doesn't like deception, gossip, or long-ass stories. Super spirited or high energy sims stress him out.

-> Some fun facts include: Joey is an only child. He's a really good cook, which surprises people! He hates his smile (his mom used to call him "Bunny" because of his front teeth, so closed-mouth smiles only unless he's super comfortable around you). The real story behind how he lost his eye and got some pretty heinous scars is that he had a bad run-in with a wild fox when he was a kid working on his dad's farm - he gets annoyed when people ask unsolicited though, so he usually makes up stupid stories before telling them the truth. He started transitioning when he was 13: his mom was very supportive but his dad...not so much (they're still amicable though). Despite growing up in Moonwood Mill, he barely knows anything about occults lmao. He's very observant and has been told he's a good kisser!

Note: He has some bonus traits from gameplay and an array of skills. His current desire for having a child is set to "Neutral." If Lumpinou's LGBTQ+ mod is being used his settings are bisexual/biromantic, alloromantic/allosexual, and transgender: did voice therapy, did hormone replacement therapy, had top surgery (has not elected to have bottom surgery).

Private DL if chosen!