#i should have a tag for these kinds of posts…

[haemey]

It's another silly one! My first multi-chapter fic to be posted as a wip, but don't worry, it's almost done. Also very slightly too late to be timely, but who cares :P

🎄🌟🎄 Sweet baby Jesus 🎄🌟🎄

G-rated, currently sitting at 10.8k, I expect it to land around 15k once done.

Relevant tags: Fluff, Bickering, Crack treated seriously, Crowley is a little shit, Aziraphale is just enough of a bastard to be worth knowing, Established relationship, an unexpected amount of feelings, Post-canon

Summary:

It's a week before Christmas, Aziraphale is stressed by an influx of customers, Crowley is actually kind of enjoying himself, and Mr Brown has a Nativity Play to organise.

Who better to play the Archangel Gabriel than Aziraphale?

Excerpt:

Aziraphale's scandalised expression spoke volumes. “No decorations? During Christmas time? My dear, what are you even saying? That would be… well, it just wouldn't do!”

Crowley just shrugged and put on a new record: A children's choir rendition of ‘The most beautiful Christmas Songs!’ Except it wasn’t a good children's choir, but instead had been recorded on an early smartphone by an oh-so-proud parent at a school event. How it had found its way onto a record was anyone’s (except Crowley’s) guess. “I mean, it's the same every year,” he said, as he went to annoy a different customer, “you just keep complaining. And what am I supposed to do then? You're putting me out of a job!”

“Oh hush.” Usually, Aziraphale would have a discussion like this in a low voice, but deep down, he hoped that their bickering might be disconcerting to humans. Unfortunately, this had not seemed to be the case so far this time of year. “You still find plenty to complain about. Yesterday it was Nina not serving mulled wine-”

“It's December and she sells drinks!”

https://archiveofourown.org/works/61688722

(The link thingy is beig weird today, but it should work)

omg it’s FAN FICTION FRIDAY

Reblog and promote a fic of yours <3

[littlcdarlin]

My Burning Sun Will Someday Rise

part 1 | part 2 | part 3 | read on AO3

summary: Joel and reader finally make it back to the hotel & all that sexual tension is resolved. tags: daddy kink, big age gap (Joel is 49, reader is 23), dbf!Joel, Joel has a lovely belly, Joel is a little mean, praise kink, Joel calls reader "kid", unprotected piv (very stupid, wrap it up kids), creampie, cunnilingus, face-sitting, (resolved) sexual tension, multiple orgasms, overstimulation, forced orgasm (not really? kinda sorta?), smut with a little bit of plot, no use of Y/N, afab!reader, reader has hair

Note: finally, the last part is here! I hope you’ll enjoy it, I had a lot of fun writing this. It’s one in the morning so forgive any typos — I wanted to post today. Thank you for the consistent love on this story, I really appreciate all your messages and comments <3

Joel positively drags you back to the hotel, one arm slung across your shoulder, your hastily packed bags in the other. He’s quiet, and you’re afraid that talking will break the spell, that he will hear your voice and remember who you are, and what he’s planning on doing to you. You’re nervous. Excited, yes, but nervous – you’ve been with people before, drunken hookups with collage boys who wanted to get off as quickly as possible. None of it felt like this, you didn’t want any of them as people. With them, it was about the sex itself, with Joel it is almost entirely about him.

Your thoughts are racing in your head, insecurities bubbling up inside of you, things that didn’t matter when you slept with those other people you barely knew – will Joel mind that you aren’t clean shaven? Did he expect you to be more experienced than you were? Were you even good in bed, or would he be underwhelmed, and secretly think you were pathetic?

You want this, more than you have wanted to be with someone maybe ever. But that want makes you vulnerable, strips you of any nonchalance you might have clung to if Joel was anyone else. He isn’t some collage boy who won’t remember you in the morning, he is your father’s best friend, for whom you are a more than controversial choice. Sleeping with you is a threat to his friendship with your father, and still, he’s ready to risk it, he pretty much told you as much. That gives it a level of importance you aren’t used to when it comes to sex.

When you reach the hotel, Joel hurries past the reception before the kind lady can stop you, and despite your nervousness, it amuses you. Joel presses the button to the elevator impatiently, making your stomach flutter. He’s so shameless in his desire for you, not embarrassed by this open display of wanting to get to his room as quickly as possible. You would have worried about looking needy, but not Joel. He’s secure, and solid, and unflinching.

The doors open, and as soon as you’re inside, Joel crowds you against the wall of the elevator, catching your lips in a kiss, before moving his mouth to your neck. You exhale shakily at the feeling of him sucking on your skin, the beard burn a surprisingly welcome sensation.

"They’ve got cameras," you breathe, a weak attempt at regaining some sort of dignity, while Joel quickly unravels you under his mouth and hands.

"Fine by me," he just answers, "Should ask them for a copy to take home with me."

Your knees threaten to buckle at those words, his admission that this isn’t just a holiday hookup, that he will want you just as much when you have left this paradise and returned to the world outside of your bubble.

"Careful, baby," he says, one hand holding you steady by the waist, his lips ghosting over your jawline.

Baby.

With a sudden ding!, the doors open again, and an elderly couple steps inside. Joel stops kissing you, but doesn’t step away, his hand still on your waist, his big body still close to yours. You offer the couple an awkward smile, and barely register the judgement in their eyes as their gazes flicker over Joel’s hair specked with white, because Joel’s hand starts moving again. He slips it under your shirt, no his shirt, rough fingers drawing featherlight patterns on your sensitive waist. His touch is teasing, clearly meant to get some sort of reaction out of you in front of these strangers. Joel’s getting off on this, you realize, on being seen with you, on people knowing just what he plans on doing once you’ve reached the third floor. You bite the inside of your cheek and do your best not to let show how you ache for him, how his gentle touches are affecting you. If you look at him, you know your resolve will crumble, so you pointedly look at a point over his shoulder, and try not to shudder.

As soon as the doors open again, you and Joel get moving, and a nervous chuckle escapes you when you meet his eye. His expression is hard to read – blatant desire, but also something more gentle, something that calms your nerves. It’s Joel. He didn’t leave you hanging when you needed to borrow a bike, didn’t make you feel stupid or guilty for it being stolen, and he won’t make you feel stupid now. That’s what you like the most about him, you think, as his hand ghosts over your back and he leads you towards his room, the way he makes you feel at ease. Whatever the opposite of shame is, that’s what Joel brings out in you.

You reach the door, and want to push it open, but Joel stops you, tilting your face towards him with a gentle touch.

"You don’t have to do this," he says seriously, "we can just go back to the beach. No hard feelings."

You appreciate his consideration, the way he seems to be aware of a certain kind of pressure or expectation his age creates for you, but the idea of going back now, when you’re so close to what you want, makes you want to weep.

"Getting cold feet?", you ask lightly, and he smiles at you, a fond smile, one that seems oddly out of place given the situation.

"I’m just sayin’, I get it if you changed your mind or something. I assume this isn’t the way you…usually do things."

"No," you say, holding his eye contact. "Usually they’re twenty-five years younger."

Joel’s face is a perfect mask, not sure what to make of your remark. You reach up, your hand gently touching his beard, and your eyes glide over the wrinkles around his eyes from years of laughter, the white in his hair, his warm irises.

"God…you’re so fucking sexy," you breathe, and there it is again, that color his cheeks only turn when you compliment him.

"I haven’t changed my mind, Joel," you say honestly, looking directly into his eyes. "Have you?"

"No."

His voice is deep, and he finally, finally opens the door, eyes still on yours.

As soon as Joel pulls you into the room, his lips are on yours again, your arms wrapping around his neck, as he walks you over towards the bed. He’s bigger than you, much bigger, and it only really occurs to you when your knees give out under you, and you land on the bed, sitting in front of him and gazing up.

He looks imposing, almost threatening, if it wasn’t for that expression he has on his face – something behind the desire. You feel safe in his hands, safe to give yourself over, not just in the physical sense. He looks so capable, so easy to trust. His hand comes up to your face, tilting your head up, and you move easily for him, letting him mold you in any way he wants.

"That couple," you begin as you watch him watch you, take you in, "they knew exactly what we were doing."

His hand travels over your throat, and although he doesn’t squeeze, it’s exhilarating to think how well it fits into his palm. You shudder as he pops open the first button of your shirt – his shirt.

"You liked it," you add, voice breathy as the tips of his fingers ghost over your collarbone.

His eyes snap up to yours, and you give a small smile, almost teasing.

"Didn’t hear you complainin’," he answers, holding your eye contact. "Think I should mark you up, so that the reception lady knows, too."

It shouldn’t turn you on as much as it does, but you press your thighs together to relieve that terrible ache. Joel notices, and smirks almost imperceptibly, opening another button on your shirt. He’s taking his time, building tension by making you wait. He’s good at this, you think.

"But then she would stop calling you my Daddy," you breathe, trying hard not to close your eyes under Joel’s touch. Joel cocks an eyebrow, hands lingering on your shirt.

"Don’t tell me you enjoyed that, kid," he says, voice low, eyes intense. You flush, and wonder if he’ll kick you out now, if you have finally made things too weird to continue, but Joel keeps gazing at you, ever steady.

"Cat’s got your tongue?"

You swallow, and let out a shaky exhale. Joel pops open another button.

"That why you kept repeatin’ it to me? Cause it turned you on?"

He’s teasing you, dragging it out of you despite your embarrassment. He wants you to revel in just how debauched it is what the two of you are doing, and you get closer to giving in with every second. Joel’s fingers trace over the swell of your chest, finally visible now that he’s opened most of the buttons, and a weak sound escapes you.

"’S that it, baby?"

"Yes," you breathe finally, your cheeks burning. Joel’s answering smile seems oddly satisfied, as he opens the last button, lets the shirt glide over your shoulders and slump down on the bed in a little heap of linen. You swallow.

"Yes," he repeats, eyes trailing over your body. You wish he’d hurry up and get his hands on you, but with the way slick steadily leaks into your swimsuit, you can’t really complain. He sure knows how to play you like an instrument.

"Say it, then," he says curtly, a simple order, and you briefly close your eyes. It’s almost too good. His eyes are locked onto yours when you open them, expectant and blown wide with desire. He has stopped moving, and you realize he wants to hear you say it before he’ll go any further.

"I…I want to call you Daddy."

Your stomach curls up with need when you hear Joel groan, his resolve quickly crumbling, as he crashes his lips against yours again. He licks into your mouth with urgency, and it’s possessive in a way it wasn’t before, like he wants to claim your mouth. The thought makes you whimper, and Joel trails one hand over your side and down to the waistband of your swimsuit. You didn’t bother putting on your shorts again, just walked to the hotel in your bikini and shirt. His fingers slide under the thinnest part, right on your hip, and he lets it snap against your body. It doesn’t hurt, but the sound makes you groan.

His hands roam over your body relentlessly, squeezing, and tracing, and feeling the swell of your hips, the dip of your navel, your spine, your breasts. You almost don’t notice him undoing your swimsuit, until he slides off the top part, and runs one finger over your pebbled nipples. Your back arches and your hips twitch towards him, but he doesn’t give in yet, just teases the sensitive nubs while you whimper into his mouth.

Then he unties the little bows on your hips, and just like that you’re bare before him, your swimsuit coming undone with one tug of his fingers, while he’s still fully dressed. He’s disturbingly good at undressing you, something that used to be an obstacle to sex now a sensual part of it. You want to feel embarrassed at the amount of wetness between your legs, but when Joel’s fingers slide over your stomach and down to your throbbing core, he groans into your mouth.

"Jesus, you’re drippin’," he breathes against your lips, breaking away to watch his hand press circles into your clit. You try hard not to twitch under his gaze, his blazing eyes and skilled touch. Another whimper escapes you, as he keeps rubbing and watching your reaction, like he wants to take you in before continuing.

It’s embarrassing how quickly he gets you to the brink of an orgasm, but when your hips twitch towards him with little control, he stops, his eyes meeting yours again. You watch him lift his hand up to his mouth and suck his fingers clean, eyes not leaving yours. It’s the most erotic thing you have ever seen, the way he closes his eyes at the taste, and you wonder how you haven’t come yet.

"I’m gonna eat you out," he says, and it’s not a question. Immediately, insecurity floods your veins – you haven’t had someone do that before, and the men you have heard speak about it said they didn’t enjoy it.

"You don’t…I mean, you can just…", your voice trails off. Joel stops in his tracks, watching your face and cocking a brow.

"You ever been eaten out?"

"No," you say quietly, "and you don’t have to."

"I know I don’t have to," he says, and he sounds almost affronted, like he can’t believe you would think he didn’t enjoy it. "You want me to?"

"I just…know some people don’t enjoy it much," you mumble and look down. Joel’s hand comes up to your face, tipping your chin so you have no choice but to meet his gaze.

"I want you to come on my tongue," he says, "and then again on my fingers."

You almost whine at that, embarrassment seeping out of you easily, and Joel traces his thumb over your lips. You let it slip into your mouth and suck, swirling your tongue around it.

"Alright? You let me take care of you," he mumbles, eyes trained on his finger between your lips.

"Okay," you say, when his thumb slips from your mouth, and then quietly add "Daddy."

"Good girl," he answers, and a wave of heat rushes to your loins. It’s fucked, what you’re doing, completely fucked, but so good you think you might cry. You were scared thinking about it for too long would break the spell you two seem to be under, but the more you do, the more turned on you get. You have Joel Miller in front of you, calling you a good girl and about to make you orgasm multiple times.

"Lie back, baby," Joel says, and you do, sinking into the pillow that smells like him. Joel keeps watching you, and when he kneels down on the bed and gently spreads your legs with his hands, you think you might come from just that sight. But you hold on, because something about Joel wanting to eat you out, not even having taken off his own clothes, makes you curious. 

He kisses your ankle and trails his mouth upwards, over your inner thigh and your hipbone, until you almost tremble.

"Jesus, Joel," you mutter, hips twitching on the bed, trying to get closer to him without your permission. He looks up at you, pressing his thumb to your clit again, and you curse. It’s not exactly painful, but it’s so much, almost too much.

"That what you call me?"

He doesn’t let up, his touch so insistent, you wonder how he expects you to come up with a single word.

"S-sorry," you stutter, grinding against his hand. "Daddy."

It thrills you to use that word, to know it gets Joel off, enough that he chastises you for using his real name.

"That’s right," he answers, and finally he lets up, placing his big palm on your thigh instead. Then, he leans down, and presses his mouth to your clit, flicking his tongue over it. It’s unlike anything you have felt before, and you actively have to will your hips to stop twitching, afraid to somehow hurt Joel. But he notices, ever perceptive, and breaks away, his mouth and beard already covered in your wet.

"Get up," he says, and you feel your anxiety rise again, questions of what you could have done wrong. He waits, but raises his eyebrows.

"You wanna come, or not?"

So you sit up, confused, and watch as Joel lies down on his back.

"Straddle me," he orders, and you move towards his lap, but he shakes his head. "Over my face, come on, baby."

You stare at him. His expression softens when he sees your disbelief, and he gives you a smile.

"Told you I’d make you come on my tongue, didn’t I?"

"Yeah, but Joel, that’s…"

Your voice trails off. You aren’t sure what you want to say – dangerous? Really fucking hot? You’re still sitting by his side, when he strokes one hand over your thigh, a soothing touch.

"I don’t know where you get the idea from that I don’t enjoy eatin’ you out," he says, his voice almost stern, "but you get that right outta your pretty head. Now, will you do as I say and sit on your Daddy’s face?"

Your mind goes a little blank when Joel calls himself that, and you feel helpless to do anything but nod, give him what he really seems to want.

"Words, baby."

His hand trails up your thigh and over your stomach.

"Yes, Daddy."

"Good girl," he answers, looking directly into your eyes, his strong hands grabbing your waist and helping you move, hoisting you up until you’re hovering over his face.

"If I need to breathe, I’ll tap your thigh, alright?"

"Yes," you breathe, quickly adding "Daddy".

Joel’s hands force your hips downward and although the sensation of his mouth under you is exactly what your throbbing clit was begging for, you’re tentative and unsure of what to do – you don’t want to hurt Joel. 

"Move, baby, make yourself feel good," you hear Joel say, voice muffled by your body. You rock your hips forward once, and let out a groan – your clit bumps into his nose, and you feel him lick into your folds. His hands grab your hips, and he starts rocking you against his face, setting the rhythm for you, and and you feel yourself leak onto his face and into his mouth, as you start moving along with him. His beard feels scratchy in the most delicious way, as he lets you fuck yourself on his mouth, his thick tongue darting out.

"Fuck," you moan, "Fuck J-Joel, Daddy, fuck!"

It’s a lot to take in, Joel Miller’s head between your thighs, lapping at you like he’s starving, like he can’t imagine anything better than having you sit on his face. His strong nose keeps nudging your clit, again and again, and your movements slowly becomes more confident, though also less controlled.

Joel’s hands keep encouraging you, and you’re closer than before, right at the brink of coming all over his face, when Joel groans into your dripping cunt. The vibrations send you over the edge, and you practically sit down on his face with all your weight, but he doesn’t stop you, just lets you ride out wave after wave of your orgasm and chant a mixture of his name and daddy.

You get off of him with shaky legs, afraid you suffocated him, but he smiles up at you, looking absolutely wrecked – his hair is tousled, beard and face drenched in your juices, jaw a little slack. He reaches up to cup your face, and you go with his touch easily, laying down next to him. He rolls over until he’s half on top of you, watching your red, panting face, and slants his mouth over yours. You can taste yourself on his lips, can feel his soaked beard against you, and although it should be impossible after just having come, you throb at the feeling.

"So good for me," Joel mutters against your mouth, and trails his hand downward, over your stomach and to your overstimulated clit. You twitch under his touch, your body unsure if it wants to get closer to Joel, or get away from him, and he chuckles.

"She spent?", he asks, his tone a little amused, when you squirm under him. "That’s okay, baby, I’ll give her a break."

Instead, he slides his fingers through your folds, gathering wetness, and finally pushing into you. Your body opens up for Joel more than willingly, and although the stretch is tight, it’s not nearly as painful as you’re used to, you’re too wet and relaxed for that. 

Joel watches your face, your fluttering eyelids, as he pumps two thick fingers in and out of you in shallow thrusts. You whine – you know you’re being vocal, too loud for a hotel room, but you can’t bring yourself to care, not when Joel curls his fingers against that spot inside of you that makes you see stars. Your hips twitch upwards, and Joel smirks.

"There we go, baby, there we go," he mumbles, moving his fingers relentlessly, and already you can feel another orgasm building. He doesn’t let up, just lets you whine under him, thrash around, because his touch is almost too much, too good, too intense, but just right. 

"Give me another one, baby, come on," he coaxes, and you think your ears start ringing when his palm starts grinding into your clit with every movement of his hand, the tips of his fingers pressing hard against your insides. "You just let Daddy make you feel real good."

It feels like bursting apart, when you come again, some tight coil snapping and Joel practically wrenching the orgasm out of you with his relentless hand and dirty words.

"Daddy," you groan, your hand coming up to your face, as you bite down on your knuckle. Joel watches you with bright eyes, lets you tremble until he can tell it’s too much, and only then does he slip his fingers out of you. 

You’re weak, exhausted from the intensity of your pleasure, and Joel chuckles when you sigh, watching your glassy eyes.

"Okay if I fuck you now?"

You think you’d let him kill you, if he really wanted to.

"Yes," you breathe, "please."

He finally – finally – takes off his shirt, arms flexing, chest sprinkled in dark hair, his belly protruding over his trunks. You wish you had a camera, or a chisel so you could scratch his glorious body into a block of stone. He’s hard in all the right places, and soft in the rest, and with a jolt you realize you’re allowed to touch now, no longer confined to watching him swim from your deckchair.

"Jesus," you breathe, sliding one hand over his biceps, as he unties the band of his swimming trunks. You know you’re hindering him, but you can’t bring yourself to stop your hand from trailing over his chest, and down to his belly.

"Fuck, you’re so goddamn hot," you mutter when he slides the trunks over his hips. Then your mind goes a little blank, because finally his bulge isn’t confined to his trunks anymore, finally he’s naked in front of you, kicking his clothes onto the floor.

He’s big, just like the rest of him. Long, and thick, and uncut, and dripping in precum, the dark hair at the base of his cock a harsh contrast to the reddish skin. Joel closes his fist around himself, pumps twice, until you tentatively put your hand over his. His cock twitches, and you feel a little overwhelmed with power. Joel let’s go and lets you do the work, your hand much smaller than his. He looks even more imposing like this, as you move your hand up and down his length.

"Wanna suck it," you say suddenly, and you’re not entirely sure where the words come from, but you know they’re true – you want to get him into your mouth, feel him use your face the way you used his. Joel groans.

"God, you’re killin’ me," he answers, eyebrows furrowed, voice wrecked. You squeeze your hand a little tighter, just to hear him make his little sounds again.

"I’ll come if you do, baby, and I’m not sure I have two rounds in me," he says, regret lacing his voice, but his words make you clench around nothing – his age turns you on more than you thought possible.

„And I need to fuck you tonight,," he adds, and wraps his big palm around your wrist, so you stop moving it over his throbbing cock.

"So fuck me," you breathe instead, eyes wide and glued to his. You watch his expression change, something primal take over, and suddenly he’s on top of you, his hips pressing into yours.

"Again," he orders, almost growling.

"Please fuck me, Daddy," you whisper, your stomach clenching and unclenching in anticipation. Joel looks like he might come from just your words, but after a moment of collecting himself, he kisses you briefly.

"Alright, pretty girl, I’ll give it to you real good," he promises, and aligns his cock with your entrance. "You’re so goddamn fuckin’ wet, I can slide right in."

And he does, pushing his hips into yours. You feel the stretch of the thick tip, the widest point almost bordering on painful, and you bite your lip. Joel slides into you slowly, breathing into your mouth and making you feel everything. Then the tip is sheathed inside of you and Joel groans quietly.

"Grippin’ me so tight," he mutters, consistently pushing on, "halfway there, babygirl."

Your pussy flutters around him, clenches and unclenches, as he keeps going, and going. You feel full, and still Joel pushes on, until his hips are fully pressed into yours, and you feel him deeper inside of you than you have felt anything before.

"Breathe, baby," he reminds you, and you let out a shaky breath you didn’t notice you were holding. "Attagirl."

When he pulls out of you again, you make a raspy whining sound, your stomach clenching at the intense drag. Joel’s hands start trailing over your body, yours are gripping his shoulders.

"Look so pretty, all stretched out on my cock," Joel praises you, and God, the mouth on this man. If you weren’t so exhausted from the first two times he made you come, you would be trembling. You groan weakly, as he pushes back in, and starts moving at a quicker pace, setting a rhythm he likes. He punches into you with precision, angling his hips just right, and then he’s nudging against that spot inside of you.

"Ah…Daddy!"

"I’ve got you, sweet girl," he groans, moving both your wrists over your head, and pinning them down with one big hand – he easily engulfs you. You tug against him, testing his grip, and your hips twitch upward when you realize you can’t get out. He’s fully in control now, his cock nudging into you insistently, and you can only take it. You’ve never felt so cared for, as now, getting fucked raw by Joel Miller.

He doesn’t kiss you, but he keeps staring into your eyes, and it feels weirdly intimate. His movements become faster, more forceful, his belly nudging your body with every thrust. You whine, your body unable to do anything except for letting another orgasm build, one you didn’t think yourself capable of. The corners of Joel’s mouth twitch, when he feels you clench, and he fucks you harder.

"Daddy," you yelp at one particularly deep thrust, but Joel doesn’t let up – you don’t want him to. "Wanna come, p-please."

"You wait for my permission," Joel answers. Your belly feels like it’s on fire, tightly coiled with the need to just let go, but Joel wants you to wait, so you will wait. Anything, you think, anything. Joel’s jaw is slack, his brows furrowed, his free hand rough on your skin, but not unkind. You clench around him, and try your best to hold off coming, your eyes falling close.

"Eyes on me, kid," Joel orders, and despite your concentration, your eyes snap open. "Fuck, that’s it, my good girl."

My girl.

Joel fucks you like it, like you’re his. It’s possessive from beginning to end – the way he looked at you when you first wore his shirt, how he wouldn’t back away from you in the elevator. He plays your body like it’s his, dragging the pleasure out of you, and it makes your head spin. You can feel his thrusts go sloppy, can feel his restraint cracking, and your eyelids flutter a little.

"You want it inside, babygirl?"

You didn’t talk about that. You know you should say no. The head of his cock nudges your insides, and Joel’s free hand presses down on your stomach, feeling himself inside of you from the outside with every thrust.

"Yes," you breathe, "yes, please, Daddy, I w-want it."

Suddenly Joel is the one who has to close his eyes, as he keeps fucking into you.

"Fuck, you come for me first, baby," he groans, sliding his hand down to rub at your overstimulated clit. It’s too much, right on the brink of painful, and you thrash under him.

"I c-c-can’t Daddy, it’s…", your voice trails off, lost in the impact of his thrusts, but Joel keeps rubbing tight circles.

"Yeah, you can, baby, you know why?"

You don’t have it in you to answer, so you just stare into Joel’s eyes. You feel something wet on your cheek, and realize you must be crying, crying from how good you feel, how full.

"Cause I said so."

Your pussy throbs, clenches, and Joel moves his finger over your clit faster.

"Come for me, baby, I’ve got you," Joel drawls, and finally you do, your vision going white, your muscles going slack as you let Joel drag his cock in and out of you, the pleasure white-hot.

"Fuck, good girl, that’s my good girl," Joel groans, thrusting into you faster, until he presses into you harder than ever before, and you feel his thick cock twitch and throb against your cervix. Something hot bursts into you, and Joel keeps fucking into you for a couple more seconds, his eyes falling closed. Then, pulls out of you, your pussy fluttering, and he falls down next to you on the bed. You feel like jelly – you couldn’t move if you tried. Joel’s cum leaks out of you slowly, an odd, but pleasant sensation, and you sort of wish he would push it back into you.

After a couple of seconds, Joel pulls you against him, your face coming to rest against his broad chest, and he presses a kiss to your hair. You inhale his scent, and your spent muscles relax further, if possible.

"You did so good," Joel mutters, "so perfect."

His hands trail up your side and arms softly, a soothing contrast to the insistent way he fucked you. Your mind is pleasantly quiet, all caught up in his voice, his scent, his touch, his spent leaking out of you.

"Thank you," you sigh, and Joel chuckles. You smile weakly.

"Wanna get cleaned up, sweet girl?"

"No," you manage, "just wanna sleep."

Joel huffs a laugh, and tucks you more tightly against him.

"I’ll wake you before dinner."

***

When he does, the sun is already sinking. He trails kisses up and down your face – the softest way you’ve ever been dragged back to reality and out of a dream, and the first time you think reality is more fantastic than anything your sleeping brain could come up with.

"Mornin’, sleepyhead," Joel mumbles, catching your mouth in a kiss, his lips moving against yours slowly. You sigh into his mouth, when he pulls away.

"We should take a shower, baby, and you need a pill."

You open your eyes, a little confused.

"A pill?"

Joel raises an eyebrow.

"I mean, I’m not opposed to children, but I think your Dad might be," he says, and you snort weakly. Right, you think, the morning after pill.

"I’ve got an IUD, Joel, don’t worry."

He presses a kiss to your collarbone.

"Back to Joel, are we?"

You blush, and he laughs. It’s blissful, and a little unreal – Joel Miller, teasing you about the debauched, perfect sex you had not two hours ago.

"You prefer Daddy?"

"It’s…got a ring to it."

You can hear the smirk, even though your eyes are closed again, and you’re stretching your tired limbs. You yawn.

"How about room service?", you ask, Joel’s hand softly stroking the hair out of your face.

"Hmm," he mumbles, trailing one hand over your stomach, "or… we take a nice shower, you let me clean you, we have dinner with you lookin’ all fucked out, and everyone downstairs will know what we’ve been up to."

Your eyes open, and although you’re entirely, completely spent, your thighs clench together. Joel grins.

It’s quite the picture – Joel, with an arm around your shoulder ordering two cocktails, the redness on your skin from where he sucked too harshly or his beard burned you. You can see it in front of you, the same waiter as yesterday bringing your food, except this time, Joel lets you use his fork to try his meal, and instead of hurrying down to the beach afterwards, he’ll kiss you slow and long, just because he can, in front of every other guest in this hotel.

„Yeah…or that."

[bqstqnbruin]

Christmas Crashing

I'm taking a break from my regularly scheduled Swayman programming for a different fic where I'm actually not mean with the ending????? Who would have thought I could do that

ANYWAY this is for @wyattjohnston's winter fic exchange, and I got to write for the absolutely amazing @laurenairay! We're ignoring that it's more than the week after Christmas but oh well

Also shoutout to @nicohischier for letting me yell about this and reading this while I scared her ily

Warnings: swearing, mentions of alcohol, I actually gave you a happy ending?????

WC:8890

Flashbacks are in italics

______________________________________

“What are you saying?”

“That I’m done.”

“That we’re done,” he clarifies for her.

She can feel her chest start to tighten, a lump forming in her throat. “Yeah.” 

Mimi hangs up without letting him get in another word, telling herself that she didn’t want to let him listen to the first sob that came out of her. She couldn’t read the text that he had sent trying to make sense of what just happened, telling her that he loved her and knew she loved him, that he wanted to figure this out and get through whatever was going on.

________________________

“You should totally post this photo,” Stella tells her, her mouth hanging open while she stared at Mimi’s phone screen. 

“Are you sure?” Mimi leans over her friend's shoulder, trying to look at Stella’s handiwork. Mimi was facing the arena, the back of the jersey her mom got her for Christmas a couple of years ago on full display as she looked back over her shoulder, her ponytail covering part of Hischier’s name. 

“Babe, you look so hot.” Stella opens up Mimi’s account, drafting up a post for her roommate. 

Mimi tries to snatch the phone from her before she could do anything, her taller friend holding the phone over her head while people around them filter into the arena, probably thinking these two girls outside were acting ridiculous. They were, but that wasn’t going to stop Mimi. 

Stella manages to get the picture posted, despite Mimi saying she wasn’t sure. “You look hot, shut up and let everyone see it.”

“You’re the worst.” 

“And you love me anyway.” 

They go into the game, Mimi ignoring the notifications that were coming up on her screen from Instagram despite the ego boost she denied they gave her. She could have spent the entire game on her phone, just scrolling through notifications and making her head bigger than it should be. 

“So?” Stella asks after the first period when the two of them head to the concourse to get food. “Was I right?”

Mimi had her phone in her hand, showing Stella her screen and scrolling for what seemed like forever to the end of the notifications she had yet to open. “Fine.”

“Tell me I was right,” Stella gloats.

Mimi rolls her eyes. “This kind of shit is why I broke up with Sofia, if you remember.”

“You broke up with her because she was an awful girlfriend in general, not because she was right more often than you were.” Mimi ignores her, continuing to scroll through the notifications while Stella looks over her shoulder. “Wait, woah, go back.”

Mimi scrolls back down, waiting for Stella to tell her to stop. “There’s no way.”

Stella starts jumping up and down, trying not to bring too much attention to them this time. “Did he comment on your photo?”

“Did you tag him in the photo?” 

Stella smirks. “There’s no harm in trying.” 

“I can’t believe you.” 

“What does it say?”

“No.” 

“It has to say more than just, ‘no.’”

“No, I mean,” Mimi says, moving up in the line. “I’m not gonna read it here.”

“Why not?” Stella whines.

“What if he thinks the picture is weird to tag him in? I don’t want to see that while he’s literally on the ice,” she says in a hushed voice. 

“What if he doesn’t?”

“I don’t want to read it.” 

The game ends, Stella somehow gaining full control over Mimi’s phone as the two of them head out to a bar after a quick pit stop at home to change, despite Mimi’s protest for wanting to stay home and read her book instead. Her bed was right there, after all. 

“Go do your thing,” Stella says, heading off to find a table for the two of them while Mimi tries to secure drinks. 

“Hey,” Mimi approaches one guy, pulling out a trick that she got from one of her books. “Buy me a drink if I beat you at tic-tac-toe.”

The guy looks perplexed, agreeing while his friends root him on, Mimi grabbing a napkin from the bar counter and pulling a pen out of her bag. She normally won, considering the fact that the guys were normally too drunk by the time she got to them to think straight enough to play the game. 

This time was no different. She won easily. 

“What do you want?” the guy asks, his friends making fun of him for losing and putting him in a foul mood. 

“Vodka Sour,” she asks for Stella’s drink.

She gets the drink and leaves before he can say or do anything else, heading back to Stella with her drink in hand. 

“Free?”

“Free,” she confirms, seeing her phone in Stella’s hands. “What are you doing?”

Stella smirks, a facial expression that makes her nervous. “Nothing.”

Mimi nods. “I’m gonna try and find another guy.” 

She heads back to the bar, scanning for another person she could get a drink from. She sees a guy talking to a friend, looking nervous. He looked sweet. Maybe she could actually talk to him and bring his friend over for Stella, too.

“Want to play tic-tac-toe?” she asks him, the guy looking like a deer in headlights. “Winner buys drinks?”

“I’ll play,” she hears behind her, the two guys eyes getting wide as they stare at the person. “Mimi, right?”

“Nico?” 

He smiles at her, taking a step closer and reaching over her shoulder to grab a napkin. He brushes against her, sending a shock through her body. “Let’s play.” 

________________________

Mimi gets to baggage claim, trying her best to ignore the fact that she was supposed to be here with Nico, not by herself, as she gets home for Christmas. He wasn’t even going to be with her for that long because of his schedule, but it was supposed to be something, at least. He knew Christmas was her favorite holiday, her favorite time of year, and instead of being with her like he was supposed to be, he was back in New Jersey. 

“Emilia,” she hears her mom calling her name, way louder than she needed to be since there were only about five other people around the carousel, the airport surprisingly empty considering it was December 23rd. Her mother came running up to her, practically tackling her into the bags that were starting to roll around as her father sighed, grabbing Mimi’s bag. 

“Where’s Gram?” Mimi asks. Every single time she came home, without fail, no matter what time of day it was, her grandmother was always there to see her when she got off the plane.

“She’s with Uncle Sam in New York for this Christmas, remember?” Mimi nods, not remembering the conversation her mother goes on to claim they had weeks ago. It was weird that her grandmother wasn’t there. “Where’s Nico?”

Mimi hesitates, another thing that was wrong. She hadn’t told her parents yet. She didn’t know how to. “His practice schedule changed at the last minute, so he had to stay back. He’s going to let me know later if he’s going to be able to come out here.”

Her father nods, incredibly indifferent. Despite how much he seemed to adore Nico, he would rather have less people around the house so he didn’t get overstimulated when he was cooking. More people meant more food he had to keep track of. 

Her mother on the other hand. “Oh, no. He’s not coming? But we haven’t seen him in so long. What if we Facetime him, tell him we can pay for the ticket for him to come. Where’s your phone?”

Mimi swats off her mother’s hand, trying to follow her dad out to their car so she could go home and go to sleep. “Mother, money is not the problem, I promise. He can’t help his practice schedule,” she lies. 

Her mother continues to fret, walking to the car going on and on about how she wished she had known so she didn’t spend all the extra time preparing for Mimi’s boyfriend to come home with her. Mimi lets out a sigh, climbing into the backseat as her father loads her bags into the trunk.

________________________

“Where are we going?” Mimi asks, climbing into Nico’s passenger seat once his car pulls to a stop in front of her building.

He smirks, leaning across the center console, giving her a kiss, one hand on the wheel with another cupping her face. “It’s a surprise.” 

“That’s what someone would say before they dump the body,” Mimi jokes as Nico pulls away from the curb.

“Jesus fucking Christ, Mimi,” Nico groans, Mimi noticing the smile on his face regardless of his tone. They had been dating for about a month now, spending more time with him than she spent with Stella despite the fact they lived together. It wasn’t her fault; she couldn’t say no to him when he asked her to do something, no matter what it was. 

Mimi shrugs, a teasing look on her face. “Think about it, it would be perfect to take me to some far off location to commit a felony when I have no idea where we’re going.” 

“Stella has your location.”

“You could steal my phone.”

Nico rolls his eyes. “Mimi, I’m not going to hurt you.” 

“Then where are we going?”

“Can’t I surprise you? Please?” he begs, his tone turning a little more serious. 

She sighs, staring out the window as he drives away from the city in an attempt to hide the smile on her face. “I guess.” 

The snow on the ground became more pristine the longer he drove, untouched and perfect as they got away from the more densely populated area they lived in. The trees lining the streets made her wish she lived out here, giving that illusion of serenity that you couldn’t get in the city. 

Nico pulled off the road to follow a gravel path, lined with a wooden fence on either side, just barely wide enough for the car to fit down. 

“This is definitely the perfect place for a murder,” Mimi jokes.

“Jeez,” Nico sighs. “We’re doing something fun.” 

Mimi sees the sign in front of her as Nico starts to slow down, a Christmas tree farm in front of them. She looks at Nico, who was already staring at her with a smile on his face. “So?”

“We’re getting a tree?” Mimi said, feeling herself getting giddy as she unbuckled her seatbelt, practically jumping out of the car.

Nico joins her, taking his hand in hers and leading her closer to the plethora of trees in front of them. “You said you used to love going with your dad and cutting down the perfect tree when you were younger. These are pre-cut, but I figured you could help me pick out the perfect one for my place.”

________________________

“You already have the tree up?” Mimi asks, her heart dropping when she walks into her parents house, seeing what was supposed to be a tradition between her and her dad already there. They never got the tree this early. And they certainly never had it already decorated with lights.

“Mimi,” her mother starts as she beelines for the tree.

“It’s not even real.” Her mouth hangs open as she examines the fake, plastic monstrosity before her, the lights on the tree because it came prelit. “You got a fake tree.”

“Donohue retired.” Mimi stared at her dad, the sad look in his eyes mirroring her own. “There was nowhere to get a real tree this year.”

Mimi nods, knowing it was stupid to get upset over something so trivial, that feeling that something . “We still have all our ornaments, right?”

Her mother comes over to her, putting her arm around her daughter’s shoulders. “You think we could get rid of those?”

________________________

“What are you doing today?” Nico’s voice comes through Mimi’s phone. 

“Nothing.”

“Now you’re not.” Mimi could hear his smile. “I’m picking you up in five minutes.”

Mimi hangs up without another word, rushing to get ready for him. 

He knocks on her door moments later, coat in hand with plastic bags full of stuff there with him. “Hi,” he says, using his free hand to pull her in for a kiss.

“Hi.” She looks at the bags in his hands, trying to suss out why he had craft supplies with him. “What’s all this?”

“Well,” he starts, pushing past her and heading for her kitchen table, placing the bags down and starting to clear the surface off. “After we got my tree, I realized I don’t have anything to put on it.”

Mimi watches him taking out everything from the bags; paint, markers, stencils, scissors, paper, pipe cleaners; it looked like he raided the store purge style for everything you could possibly think of. “And?”

He organizes everything into piles in front of them, gesturing to his haul. “I thought we could make some ornaments together.” 

Mimi laughs, her heart fluttering as Nico beams at her. “How good are you at arts and crafts?”

Nico smirks. “Horrible. You?”

“Awful.”

“Then this will be fun.”

________________________

“Hey, what time is Celeste getting here?” Mimi asks as she hangs up one her ‘Baby’s First Christmas’ Ornament as high as she could, something she has done every year since she could walk. Her sister was supposed to be getting in before she did if her memory served her correctly. 

Her parents exchange looks behind her back, thinking Mimi didn’t catch them. “She got snowed in.” 

“What?” she asks, nearly dropping the ornament her great-grandmother made. “So when is she going to get here?”

“The snow isn’t supposed to clear until tomorrow.”

“So she should be able to get here tomorrow, then?” 

“Maybe.” 

“Maybe?” Mimi screams. This was an overreaction on her part, but it was now the third thing that had been wrong with this Christmas, on top of Nico breaking up with her right before she was getting on the plane. “Celeste has to come to Christmas. Where else will she go?”

“She would be with Quinn and his family, I would assume,” her mother says, referring to her sister’s fiance.

Mimi just nods, knowing there was nothing she could do to control it. That didn’t mean she couldn’t still feel upset about it. 

The rest of the day feels like a blur, a weird emptiness knowing her sister wasn’t going to be showing up like she was supposed to, her grandmother was spending Christmas on the other side of the country, and the tree wasn’t real like it had been for as long as she could remember.

That and she kept checking her phone, expecting a text from Nico to show up on her screen, despite the fact that he hadn’t texted her in weeks. 

“Hey, Emilia,” her dad pulls her out of her trance, standing in front of her with the car keys. “Want to run out and grab some things with me?

________________________

“Stop bouncing your leg, you’re shaking the car,” Nico reaches over and presses down on Mimi’s thigh, trying to get her to stop.

“Sorry,” she mumbles, sinking further into his passenger seat. She looks out the window, snow everywhere, less and less cars on the road as they get to the cabin Nico’s friends rented out for the weekend. They had a rare break between games without so much as a practice (according to Nico, this was unheard of), so some of his friends took the opportunity to get away from home for a while and just relax somewhere else.

It looked like Nico was driving her into her death.

It was worse, actually. She had to meet new people and interact with them without anywhere to retreat.

“Our room is the only one on the top floor if they get to be too much,” Nico says, reading her mind. “They’re going to love you.”

They had just had the ‘what are we conversation,’ where Nico let her know that he considered her to be his girlfriend a while ago. Apparently, Nico’s entire team had been referring to Mimi as Nico’s girlfriend for the last month. It was time to actually meet them, and Mimi felt like she would rather run out into the wilderness and disappear with the bears. 

Mimi lets out a deep breath as he turns down the road the GPS told him to turn down. This couldn’t be that bad, could it?

As soon Nico pulled up in front of the cabin, the car seemed to be surrounded by his teammates, screaming about god only knows what and opening every door despite not needing to.

“You said you were bringing the beer,” Luke whines. 

“I did,” Nico deadpans. “You’re barely old enough to drink, calm down.”

“Luke, go back inside,”Jack says, reaching up and trying to mess with Luke’s hair. Luke stomps back inside, Mimi hearing him muttering something about being treated like a child. “He’ll be fine.” 

“I told you not to bring him,” Nico says, handing his teammate the aforementioned case of beer. “He’s too young.”

“Ok, Dad,” he says, Nico rolling his eyes. “You know as well as I do that I couldn’t leave him home when all of us were here.”

Nico hands Mimi her bag from the trunk once she gets out of the car, taking her hand in his and leading her into the cabin. “That’s Jack and Luke.”

Mimi nods, recognizing them from long before she and Nico even started dating. Nico, for some reason, had a habit of forgetting that she actually knew the sport and the team well enough, growing up with her dad being a fan of them since they were in Kansas City and passing it onto her as they relocated to Devner, then to East Rutherford. She probably knew more about the Devils as a franchise because of her father than Nico did as captain. 

They get inside, the heat hitting Mimi’s face. The inside of the cabin was beautiful, the walls entirely made of wood with light fixtures that looked like oil lamps attached to the walls. Thankfully, there were no dead animals stuck to the walls as she had feared, but a huge TV mounted in front of the couches, playing none other than an NHL game on the screen. 

“There’s Dawson, Jesper, and Nate,” Nico points, the three guys waving to them. 

Mimi pulls Nico aside. “I thought you said they were bringing their partners, too.” 

Nico blinks at her. “None of them are seeing anyone.”

“So it’s just you, me, and your teammates?”

Nico nods. “Yeah, of course.”

Mimi nods slowly, biting the inside of her cheek. “I think I’m going to head up to our room.”

Mimi layed on the bed she and Nico were going to share in the cabin, trying to read while Nico and his teammates were screaming downstairs, clearly already drunk despite them only being there for two hours. This wasn’t how the weekend was supposed to go. She was supposed to meet his teammates and their partners as Nico had told her, so she wouldn’t be alone with the guys.

It’s not that she didn’t think she would have fun, it’s just not what she was expecting. 

She hears a knock on the door as she stares up at the ceiling, her book laying facedown, open, on her chest. She was making no progress. Nico pokes his head in before she can say anything. “Can we talk?”

Mimi nods, sitting up and marking her place in her book. 

“You’re mad at me.” Nico sits down on the bed by her feet. 

She sighs. “I’m not mad.”

“But you aren’t happy with me.” 

“I’m annoyed that you didn’t tell me what I was getting into this weekend.”

“What can I do to make it up to you?” Nico pleaded with her. The look on his face made her chest ache, knowing that he actually wanted to do that. 

Mimi exhales. “Give me,” she hesitates. “Like an hour?”

“Ok.” Nico nods. She stares at him for a second, neither of them moving while the sound of his teammates laughter rings through the house. “Are you not going to go back down?”

“Not without you.” 

“I’m just going to sit here and read,” she tells him, giving him a suspicious look. 

Nico nods again, shifting to rest his back against the headboard, his arm raised for her to cuddle right into. “That’s fine.” 

The two fell into a comfortable silence, Mimi feeling Nico’s eyes on her while she read her book. They stayed that way for two hours, just enough time for Mimi to think of herself as the character in the book falling in love with the man she was going to spend her life with. 

________________________

The two of them drive in silence, Mimi not really caring where they were going. She keeps resisting the urge to check her phone, knowing that she would see her background instead of any notification she would actually care about. 

“So, kid,” her father starts, pulling into the grocery store parking lot. “Nico isn’t coming, is he?”

Mimi looks out the window, pursing her lips and shaking her head. “No.”

“Are you two alright?”

“No.”

“Do you want to talk about it?”

“No.”

He parks the car, sitting there for a moment. “Ok. Let’s go in.” 

“What are we doing here, anyway?” The two of them walk through the aisles, her dad pushing a carriage with the loudest wheel possible. He had a talent for picking out the most rickety one every time, somehow not caring and not getting annoyed as he shopped.

He starts pulling things from the shelves, ingredients Mimi recognized as being for her favorite ricotta cookies, the recipe that had been passed down through her family from her great-great-grandparents. “Mom thought it would be fun to make these again this year.”

Mimi smiles, looking at his cart to see what he still needed that she could grab. The last thing he needed, the most important ingredient, was the ricotta. She heads over to the cheese, scouring the case for the right one.

“Any luck?” her father appears behind her, seeing the frown on her face. She shakes her head, staring at the case. They had to have the ricotta. They couldn’t make ricotta cookies without it. Her father flags down an employee.

They shrug, shoving their hands in their jean pockets. “If it’s not out here, we must be out. The trucks haven’t been coming in with everything lately.” 

Mimi looks at her dad as the employee stalks away. “What do we do?”

Her dad shrugs, staring at the cart. “We can check another store later, but I guess we can’t make them tonight.”

________________________

The first snowfall of the year happened abnormally early; in October, actually. The last time Mimi remembered an October snowstorm was around 2010, when she was eleven. That resulted in most of her life getting shut down for the week, but at least she didn’t have to go to school.

Mimi remembered staying in while her father cleared the driveway, her and Celeste sitting at the door near the back porch and staring towards the sky while the snow fell toward them, pretending that they were being transported to a different winter wonderland that wasn’t their backyard. Their mother would make mac and cheese and turn on a movie for Celeste while Mimi curled up on the couch, cuddling with her mother while she read whatever book she could get her hands on. The hot chocolate always came later, with extra marshmallows. 

As she got older, it meant no school, then no work, but always snuggling on the couch under her warmest blanket, a movie playing in the background while she read with a mug of hot chocolate next to her. 

She sits down on her couch, getting ready to spend the day not moving when someone is buzzing her apartment to come up, a text from Nico letting her know it was him.

“What are you doing here?” she asks when she opens her door. 

He smiles at her, making her heart skip a beat as he bends down to kiss her. “Practice and the game got cancelled tonight, I thought I would stop by since your location said you were home.” 

“Oh,” she lets out, cringing at the disappointment that she heard come through her voice. She watched Nico’s smile falter.

“Do you want me to go?”

Mimi looked out the window, watching the snow fall even harder than it had just mere minutes ago, Nico already covered in snow as it was. “No, no, it’s not safe for you.”

Nico nods, unsure what to do. 

“I was just about to read my book,” Mimi says, taking his hand and leading him in. 

“Oh.” He sounded disappointed. “I thought we could just kinda,” his voice trailed off, his eyes flicking back and forth between her and the hallway leading to her bedroom. “But that’s fine. You can read your book.” 

“I do this every snow day,” Mimi tries not to whine, sitting down on her couch and clutching her book. 

Nico exhales, nodding. “That’s fine,” he repeats, clearing his throat. “What else do you do?” 

Nico sits down next to her, Mimi pulling her book closer to her chest. “I just,” she starts, feeling her heartbeat rising for no reason that she could think of. 

“Hey, hey,” Nico coos, gently bringing her into his chest. He kissed the top of her head, one hand rubbing her back while the other rested on her lap. “I can leave. If you don’t want me here, I will leave. If it’s not safe to go I will just sit in the hallway.”

Mimi lets out a strangled laugh, picturing him playing games on his phone while he posted up outside her door, probably staying there until one of her neighbors ventured out of their place and called someone to come take away the man sitting outside an apartment he didn’t live in. “I put on a movie in the background and then just sit with my blanket and read it.” 

“Can I join you?”

“You want to watch the movie or do you want a book?” Nico shifts, getting up and heading down the hall to her room. “That’s not an answer,” she calls after him.

He comes back, waving a book in his hands. “I’ll read and then if I get bored, I’ll fall back on the movie.”

Mimi stares at the book he picked, her heart swelling in her chest. “That’s my favorite book.”

“I know. That’s why I want to read it again.” 

________________________

Mimi and her father finally get home, the one missing ingredient for some reason impossible to find and the remaining groceries unable to be left in the car for much longer without ruining them, too. 

“I’ll head out in the morning again and see if I can find it,” her dad tries to reassure her when he pulls into the driveway. 

She heads inside to her old room. Every little thing has gone wrong so far, it seemed, but why should it bother her? She was going to be with her family at Christmas, something she hadn’t really been able to do the last few years because of work. Her sister might not be here,or her grandmother, or her boyfriend, but still with her parents.

Her ex-boyfriend.

Staring at the walls of the room she grew up in, seeing the posters from the musicals that she was in when she was in middle school and high school taped above her bed, the game-day posters from the games she went to with her dad as a child surrounding her closet, the awards she won for various random clubs and activities she did in order to go to college where she did above her bookcase. 

Mimi thinks back to her packing job, trying to remember what books she brought with her for the trip. She had the one she read while she was in the airport and on the plane, but she finished that right before her plane landed, putting that back in her bag and spending the rest of the time in the air logging the book rather than starting another one. Did she even bring another one?

She remembers plugging in her e-reader before she started packing, but did she ever unplug it and pack it? She texts Stella to check and unplug it so she doesn’t murder her prized possession while away. 

“Mom,” Mimi yells, not waiting for any acknowledgement. “What books do you have?”

“Check our bedroom,” she hears, heading to the bookcase that’s against the wall. 

“I’ve read all of these,” she yells back, trying not to let a whining tone come through her voice. And she actually had. Most of her parents were her old books that she had read that she gave to them, or that she bought separate copies of for them. The books her parents got on their own somehow found their way into Mimi’s hands, leaving her with nothing. 

Her mom appears in the doorway, a concerned look on her face while she watches her daughter stare defeated at the books. She checks her watch, grabbing her wallet from her closet. “Take my library card and check out what you want. They’re still open for another hour or so.” Mimi takes the card and stares at it. She wasn’t even sure if this was allowed. Wasn’t it some sort of fraud to use someone else’s library card? “I have a book on hold, I’ll call them and let them know they can give it to you. Go.”

Mimi gets pushed out the door and handed the keys, faster than she can even process what was going on. 

She hadn’t been inside her hometown library since she was in high school, everything still exactly the same except for the self check out computers they added for when the librarians were busy. They had set up a holiday book display, Mimi beelining there in hopes of finding anything that could potentially put her in a better mood. 

Mimi picks up a book with two girls on the cover, some sapphic holiday romance that had been on her radar since October when someone she followed on social media had posted about it. 

“Emilia?” She snaps away from the book to see a guy standing in front of her, someone who she swore looked familiar but couldn’t, for the life of her, remember why she knew him. “Niall Walsh.”

The guy she went to junior prom with. Shit, he looked good. “Of course, how are you?” she asks him, trying to sound enthusiastic about seeing him. She just needed to get books and go home.

“Good, good. You’re still out in New Jersey?”

They fall into a stupid conversation, Mimi trying to back away and find more books for her stay. She needed at least three to survive the holiday. 

“A bunch of us are heading to the green later to skate, you should join us,” Niall offers, starting to list off people from high school Mimi hadn’t kept in touch with.

“That sounds so nice, but I’ve gotta help my mom with stuff for the holidays.” 

Niall finally says goodbye with his books in hand, letting her know that she was still welcome to join if she had the time.

She didn’t want to go ice skating. It made her think of Nico. 

________________________

“For fucks sake,” Mimi huffs, kicking the door open. “Next time we want to move, we’re not doing it in the middle of winter, and we aren’t doing it in the middle of your season.”

Nico laughs, getting up from the couch and grabbing the box from her. They had been together for over a year, finally making the decision to move in together. “Both of our leases were up and you would hate moving in the summer, too.”

“I’m somehow sweating and freezing. This is awful.” 

“How many more boxes are in your car?”

“All my books.” 

“There’s no way you fit all of those in your car.”

Mimi makes a face, taking Nico’s hand and dragging him back downstairs. “Stella might also be there with her car full of my books.”

Nico sighs with a lazy smile on his face, puts his arm around her and pulls her close as they walk outside and kisses the side of her head. “That’s my girl.”

“You have too many fucking books,” Stella mutters, opening her trunk. “I nearly died because I couldn’t see out my windows.”

“You were probably fine,” Nico deadpans, checking his phone. “Jack and Luke said they’ll be here in an hour with the truck.” 

“You’re meeting them back at our place?”

“My place.”

“Your place.” The two stare at each other, the gravity of Mimi moving out just about to hit them.

Nico clears his throat, hoping to distract them long enough that they can have their moment inside rather than out on the street. “Let’s get these books inside before it gets dark out.”

The girls unload the cars, boxes upon boxes of books being brought up to the new apartment and placed haphazardly throughout the space. 

“Where are all of these going, anyway?” Stella huffs, setting down a book that Mimi had labelled as ‘Fantasy,’ meaning that all of her biggest books were stuffed in there.

“We have the second bedroom that we’re turning into a reading space,” Nico says. 

Stella nods. “Well,” she straightens her back, all of them feeling the pain of moving too many boxes. “I’m going to go back and meet the idiots for the rest.” She leaves before the girls can say anything else to each other, both of them avoiding the fact that they wouldn’t be living together anymore after nearly seven years. They were so close to having a common law marriage.

Mimi looks at Nico, staring at all the boxes scattered around them. “We have to unpack these.” 

Nico smiles at her. “I have a better idea.” 

Mimi eyes him curiously, watching him head to one of the closets that she still wasn’t sure held, Nico pulling things out. “Ice skates?” she asks, staring at the two pairs in his hands.

“There’s a pond that’s frozen over behind the building, we can take a break before it gets dark.” 

“We’ve never gone skating before,” Mimi points out. “You don’t even know if I can.”

Nico hands her the pair meant for her, taking her hand and grabbing his keys as they head out. “You’re probably better than me.”

“Obviously. You’re pretty shit at skating, aren’t you?” she teases him.

Nico laughs. “I love you.”

“I love you, too.”

________________________

“Did you leave any books for other people?” her dad teases her when she comes back through the door.

“There’s still all the books written by Republicans.”

“Do they know how to write books?”

Mimi hears her mother scold him for that one, trying to stifle her own laugh so she isn’t scolded as well. “I have enough books for the time that I’m here. I think. Don’t worry.” 

Mimi heads up to her room, flopping down on her bed with a book open in her hand. She didn’t need anyone else to be here for it to be Christmas for her. She could just be with her parents and whatever other family they had coming over this year. 

She reads her book, a group of friends going to one of their parents' houses for the holidays because none of them have anywhere else to do until they realize that two of them were not only together previously, but one had left the other at the altar. 

Mimi sits up straight on her bed, shutting the book as fast as she could. She had to stop going into books blind. Every time, without fail, they reminded her of the things that were going wrong in her life.

________________________

“When do we have to leave?” Nico asks, his arms wrapped around Mimi as they lay in bed, the snow falling outside and coating the window, his bare chest against hers. 

Mimi hums, turning herself to nestle into his shoulder. She didn’t want to leave this moment. “Our flight is at noon.” 

Mimi was heading home for Thanksgiving this year, bringing Nico home with her for the first time. Her parents had met him before, but this was her whole family now. They had been dating for two years at this point, living together for almost a year, and at this point, they both decided it was time to meet her family.

It was terrifying. 

“Ugh, shit,” Nico groans, letting go of her and getting out of bed. “I need to shower, then.” 

Mimi lays in their bed for a few moments, trying to fathom taking a boy home with her. Not just any boy, but the one she lived with, the one she loved.

One of the phones on the nightstand makes some noise, Mimi hearing the shower starting in the bathroom. She reaches over for the one lit up, not sure whose she was grabbing. 

Her mom’s first name came up as the contact sending a message.

“Nico, my mom is texting you.” 

She hears something fall in the shower. “You can just leave it,” he yells back, a weird tone in his voice.

Why would her mom be texting him? Normally, she texted both of them in a group chat that included her father, Celeste, and Quinn, regardless of who she actually needed to talk to. Her mom never even texted her separately, even on her birthday. 

Mimi knew Nico’s passcode. She could just open his phone and look at what they were talking about. 

But why would she do that? Mimi shook her head, putting the phone back on the nightstand and started to get ready, pushing the thought of Nico and her mom talking about something that she couldn’t know about from her mind every time it popped up. 

They had to focus on finishing up the last of their packing and getting to the airport, which they had less than an hour to get to, at this point. 

“Babe, hurry up,” she yells, throwing the last things they needed in their bags, Nico still in the bathroom fucking around. “We need to leave, like, five minutes ago.” 

“I’m good, I’m ready,” he says, emerging from the bathroom, his hair still soaked. “And we have plenty of time before we need to leave.” He grabs his phone, Mimi seeing him open the text from her mom and a smile growing on his face. 

________________________

Mimi finishes one book and quickly moves onto the next, losing track of time. The last thing she remembered, the SecUnit was freaking out about dying and not saving its humans. 

Next thing she knows, it’s three am, her lights are still on, her book is still in her hand miraculously with her page saved by her finger, and something was making noise downstairs. Actually, someone.

Mimi practically launches herself out of bed, finding the kitchen lights on and her sister checking the fridge. “What the fuck?” she breathes out, grabbing Celeste into a hug. 

“Hi, to you, too,” Celeste laughs, Quinn in the background going through cabinets. “We need food.” 

“I thought your flight couldn’t come in?”

“Quinn here drove us.”

“From Vancouver?”

Quinn shrugs, the normal sullen look on his face made even worse from the exhaustion of the long drive. “Celeste had to get here.”

“Yeah,” she says, taking Mimi’s hand and leading her to the kitchen table. “How are you?” She had called her sister almost immediately after it happened to tell her. 

“Good.” Celeste gives her that look that tells her she knows it’s a lie. “Fine.” Another look. Mimi sighs, letting out the words she hadn’t said out loud to anyone. “I miss him.” 

________________________

Her family loved Nico. 

Her little cousins flocked to him, her aunts and uncles raved about how easy he was to talk to. Celeste nearly drooled over him despite Quinn standing right next to him and her having seen him plenty of times on TV. Her parents, Mimi was sure, wished he was their actually child. They would trade Mimi for three mini cans of soda and a bag of corn chips if it meant Nico was their son. 

Mimi was watching Nico play with her youngest cousin, Vivianna, as she showed Nico all the dolls she brought with her and told him about all of them in that high-pitched toddler babble she was probably going to have grown out of by Christmas. Her chest ached at the sight of his smile at Vivianna, finding herself daydreaming about him with their own kid one day. 

“Hey,” her mom pulls her out of her trance. “Can you go grab my phone on my nightstand? It has the recipe for the mac and cheese and I need to take out the turkey in a second.”

“Got it.” 

She heads upstairs to her parents room, finding the phone, an unread message notification from Nico from a couple of hours ago on the screen. She was looking for the recipe, not the messages. It was saved in her mother’s notes app, and that was all she needed to look for. 

But her mom told her to get her phone. She could see the messages and then just ‘unread’ the one Nico had sent her. 

No. That was crazy. What was she even worried about? Her mom and Nico haven’t some sort of illicit affair? That would never happen. 

She shakes her head of the thought. She was going crazy over nothing. Mimi unlocks her mothers phone, expecting to find her home screen with all her apps, her notes app in the bottom left hand corner of the main dock. 

Instead it opened right to Nico’s messages. 

Mimi couldn’t help herself. She scrolls up to the last few messages, her mom for some reason either not replying to him or deleting all of her messages to him, leaving only what Nico sent. 

It was links upon links of engagement rings. 

And she hated every single one of them.

“Mimi,” her mother yells up the stairs. “Did you find my phone?”

Shit. “Yeah,” she sets the message back to being unread and pulls up the notes app just as her mom appears in the doorway. “Here, sorry. I grabbed Dad’s phone instead.”

Her mother eyes her suspiciously, looking at the other nightstand where the other phone sat. “No problem, let’s head back down stairs. Nico was looking for you.”

Nico. 

________________________

“I think you should call him,” Celeste says, ignoring the fact that Quinn was falling asleep in the chair next to her. Actually, Mimi was sure that he was already asleep.

Mimi shakes her head. “He wanted to propose, to get married, to spend our lives together and he didn’t even know what kind of ring I liked? He doesn’t know me.”

“You’re an idiot,” Celeste sighs.

“You’re supposed to be on my side.”

“No, I’m supposed to call you out when you’re being a fucking dumbass.” 

“What did I do wrong here?”

“Mimi, the ring is not important.” Celeste reaches across the table and takes her sister's hands. “You love Nico and he loves you. You guys talked about getting married, didn’t you? The ring can be changed, but if you wait too long, it might not be Nico who gives it to you.”

Before Mimi can respond, Quinn stirs and startles the sisters, shifting on the table. He sits up, his forehead bright red from where he was resting. “Can we go to bed?” he mumbles, his eyes still closed.

Celeste helps get him out of the chair. “Yeah, babe.” She leads him out of the kitchen, leaving Mimi sitting there by herself. “Maybe think about calling him tomorrow? Tell him what you saw on our mother’s phone and tell him you’re an idiot?”

Mimi laughed at her sister’s bluntness. She had been wanting to call Nico for the last few weeks since she broke up with him. Worst of all, she did it while he was on a road trip and took a bag of things out and back to Stella’s place. She never went and got all her things, all her books. 

She heads up to her room, her phone flashing 4:00 am. She had to get to sleep if she wanted to be ready for whatever chaos her family brought with them when they got to their house the next afternoon. 

________________________

Mimi was shaking, walking down the street with an overnight bag slung over her shoulder, heading to Stella’s.

Nico was away on a west coast road trip for over a week already, scheduled to come back the next day. She had been keeping him at arm's length since Thanksgiving, since the text messages to her mother. Everything felt weird, between them and Nico had no idea why. Mimi couldn’t talk to him.

Her phone was in her hand, Nico’s number typed from memory ready to call, all she had to do was press the green button. They had talked earlier that morning, when he woke up, but she couldn’t say anything to him. 

She goes for it, knowing that she had to say something to him as to why she wasn’t at their apartment when he got home. 

“Hey, babe,” he answers groggily after a couple of rings. Mimi takes the phone away from her ear, trying to figure out the time difference. He was at the end of his pre-game nap, just waking up. “What’s up?”

“I’m going to Stella’s.”

“Oh, ok,” she hears him say, the ruffling of sheets as he sits up. He yawns, Mimi able to picture him stretching as he does so. “Are you guys doing a girl’s night?”

“No, um, I’m going to move back in with her.” Nico doesn’t say anything, Mimi standing outside her old building, checking to see if the call dropped.

Nico finally clears his throat. “You’re what?”

Mimi could feel the tears coming, trying to hold them back. As soon as she started to cry, she knew he would hear it in her voice. “I can’t do this anymore, Nico.” 

“What are you saying?” She hears him getting out of bed, shuffling around the hotel room. He was frantic, things falling over, Nico bumping into things, probably in a panic. 

Mimi hesitates. “That I’m done.”

He stops. “That we’re done,” he clarifies for her.

She can feel her chest start to tighten, a lump forming in her throat. “Yeah.” 

Mimi hangs up without letting him get in another word, telling herself that she didn’t want to let him listen to the first sob that came out of her. She couldn’t read the text that he had sent trying to make sense of what just happened, telling her that he loved her and knew she loved him, that he wanted to figure this out and get through whatever was going on.

Stella appears outside, holding the door open for her just as Mimi bursts into tears, bringing her friend in for a hug. 

“What happened?” 

Mimi can’t get a word out between her crying, feeling ridiculous for doing this on the street. Stella tries to console her, dragging her in the building. “You’re gonna be ok. Stay as long as you need. You’re heading to your parents in a few days, anyway.” 

________________________

Mimi woke up to her mother standing over her like she was back in high school and had snoozed her alarm one too many times. “It’s almost noon, are you going to get up?”

“Ugh,” Mimi lets out, swearing in her mind. She jolts out of bed, trying to find all the clothes she had planned to wear that never managed to get unpacked from her bag. 

“Everyone gets here in an hour.”

“I know, Mom.” Mimi nearly falls over trying to get her pants on, her mother just standing there watching.

“Anything from Nico?”

Mimi stops, her pajama top in one hand, the sweater she was planning on wearing in the other as she looks at the smirk her mom had on her face. “I just woke up and haven’t looked at my phone yet, I’m not sure.”

Her mother nods. “Just let us know if someone needs to go pick him up at the airport.” She leaves without another word. 

Mimi shakes it off, whatever weirdness her mother gave off probably just from the normal anxiety that came with hosting their family for Christmas Eve. Both sides of the family showed up, which meant the most chaos possible for their family. She heads downstairs, going through the motions of helping her father get the food ready, setting the tables, trying to find the bag of toys that had somehow completely disappeared since Thanksgiving that they kept for the little ones.

The doorbell rings, Mimi hearing one of her aunts call that she was letting herself in as she always did, a container of gingerbread cookies with her to hand off to Mimi. The rest of the family starts to filter in, the entire house filled with talking, laughing, screaming, and everyone in a good mood.

Except for Mimi. 

“You didn’t call him, did you?” Celeste pulls her aside. 

Mimi shakes her head, taking out her phone since she knew Celeste would make her call him now anyway. She types in his number, pressing the call button without hesitating.

“It went right to voicemail.” Mimi knew the color drained from her face, her heart dropping to her stomach. Did he block her? 

She tries to pull up his location, the last time his phone registering one being at Newark Airport around the same time Celeste got home. He couldn’t be travelling for hockey.

Celeste bites her lip, a concerned look on her face. “He’s probably just busy. His phone is off.”

“What if I can’t get him back?” Mimi felt like crying, again. She really fucked this up.

Celeste pulls her in for a hug. “Then we figure it out.” 

The sisters are interrupted by one of their father’s brothers, yelling something about Quinn being too quiet for the family and how he was sure they would break him out of his shell. Celeste immediately leaves to try to save her boyfriend, Mimi laughing at the image of the poor boy panicking over the anxiety that their family could cause. 

The doorbell rings, the rest of the family too loud for anyone but Mimi, who had happened to wander by the door on her way to the kitchen, to hear. She was sure everyone was already there, her mother not mentioning that anyone was going to be late.

She checks through the small window at the top, the angle of the glass distorting any good view of the person she could have. All Mimi could see was brown hair pacing back and forth on the front porch. 

Mimi opens the door. “Nico?” Her heart swells as he stops pacing, pulling her in for a hug as she shuts the door, not wanting her family to hear any of their conversation. “What are you doing here?”

He pulls away from her slightly to look at her, his one hand still on her waist and he brushes her hair off her face with the other, tucking it behind her cheek. “You’ve been avoiding my calls, and my texts. Stella, Celeste, and Quinn have all called me or Jack or Luke trying to figure out what happened.”

She sighs, wanting to bury herself in his chest and forget everything ever happened. “I saw the rings you sent my mom.”

“And?”

“I hated them.”

“I knew you would.” 

“What?”

Nico laughs, pulling her back into his chest. “I sent those to your mom because I knew at some point, your mom would ask you to pull up something on her phone for her, and I don’t want you knowing what you’re going to get when I do ask you.”

“When you do?”

“When I do ask you, it’ll be perfect for you.” 

Mimi doesn’t say anything, pulling him in for a kiss instead. She could feel him smile against her lips, his hands tightening around her waist. 

“I do have this for you, though,” Nico pulls away, reaching into his pocket. He pulls out a small ring box. “It’s what I’m going to put your ring in.”

Mimi raises her eyebrow at him as he encourages her to open it. “What’s on the lining?” Nico smiles, Mimi staring at the lines and marks. “Holy shit.” Her eyes grow wide when the realization hits her.

“It’s our tic-tac-toe game from the night we met.”

Mimi hugs him, nuzzling his face against his shoulder, feeling his heartbeat as he holds her tight. “I love you.”

“I love you, too.”

“Hey, there you are,” Celeste interrupts, the door open with their entire family standing there watching. Mimi felt her face get hot as they all gave the two of them knowing looks.  “Look who crashed Christmas.” 

[totallyjustabunchofhocuspocus]

God, PLEASE bring back the kinky tomatoes and ship and let ship. I'm not some idiot waxing about the halcyon days of early fandom when everyone was soooo kind and reasonable. It was the fuckin' Wild West and there were plenty of assholes in fandom (hehe, anyone remember flame wars?)

BUT

There has definitely been an increase in the VICIOUSNESS in fandom. People ascribe morality to shipping at a rate and intensity that is disturbing to watch. Your online space is yours to do with and curate as you please, and I highly encourage you to seek out likeminded individuals to interact with. But if your response to encountering someone who doesn't curate their space the way you do, holds a fandom opinion you don't, ships something you don't like, WHATEVER, and your response is to spew anger and hatred and threats at them? You're an asshole and kind of an idiot. Yes, even if their ship involves stuff that's taboo as fuck. Yes even if it's toxic. Yes even if it's downright evil (and to get ahead of it, NO I'm not talking about someone encouraging people to join the Klan In real life or talking about how everyone should be a Nazi in real life--note the 'in real life's disclaimer) .

Our online fandom spaces need to remain neutral. There are PLENTY of takes, subjects, kinks, and stories that I find distasteful. Some I find disgusting. Some that I VISCERALLY hate. But it's not hurting me or others if people enjoy that stuff and it's not hurting THEM to enjoy it...so it's not my business. As long as it's tagged and warned for, it's not my business. Even if it's not, it is my business in the SOLE context of reporting it to GET it tagged and warned for, and that's it. I make no judgement on if it should exist or not. There were AWFUL stories infesting a tag I follow on AO3 recently. Stuff that was very obviously only meant to trigger people and make them upset. It was disgusting. The worst kind of subject matter you can think of. I wish nothing good for the person(s) who wrote them. But I still have to defend their right to put it up with clear tags and warnings because it is fiction and if I and the rest of us don't, those goal posts of what is acceptable WILL move and they will eventually move into places they shouldn't. I don't like it. I don't condone what was written even a little bit. But I cannot argue against its right to exist.

Fandom PSAs

Dont’ Like, Don’t Read

or DL; DR

You are responsible for curating your own online experience.

If something upsets you, makes you angry or queasy or triggers you, stop reading/looking at it. Avoid things that might make you feel that way.

Learn to use the Sort and Filter function on AO3, especially the Exclude tools.

On social media, block and mute accounts / tags / words when necessary.

If you hated something, you don’t need to tell that to the creator or start pointing fingers at them publicly.

The Back button is free. Use it.

Addendum:

Yes, for this to work, creators need to tag their works accordingly, so that people know what sort of content they are about to engage with and can nope out if necessary.

I will probably make another PSA about the importance of proper tagging later.

Ship And Let Ship

or SALS

You are allowed to ship whatever you want.

Everyone else is also allowed to ship whatever they want.

You are entitled to dislike or even hate a ship. If you want to do this online, in public, don’t use the ship tags for hate posts.

If you see someone posting about a ship they like and you don’t, there is no need for you to start arguing with them in their replies / comments / QRTs / reblogs. Don’t throw your hate in their face.

Do not harass fan creators or fans for shipping something you disapprove.

All of this also applies to liking / disliking an individual character.

Addendum:

”I agree with this, except when…”

No, then you are NOT agreeing with this.

Let me make this VERY clear. There are NO exceptions. None.

You don’t EVER harass real people over pixels.

If you disagree with this, kindly block and move on.

Your Kink Is Not My Kink

or YKINMK / YKINMKATO

The longer version is ”Your Kink Is Not My Kink And That’s Okay”.

People have different tastes. Not everything is for everybody.

Even if you don’t like a specific kink, other people are still allowed to use it in their creations.

You are entitled to dislike kinky content and think that it’s ”weird”.

Don’t kink shame or judge people based on their kinks.

This goes both ways: your kink is not someone else’s kink, so don’t push it onto those who are not into it.

Be Kind

or Don’t Be An Asshole

Focus on the things you like instead of the things you hate.

Create and unite instead of destroying and dividing.

Don’t harass real people over fictional things.

Stop stirring up petty drama just to get some attention on social media.

Stop trying to ”win”. Fandom is not a competition.

Remember that your own experiences aren’t universally shared. Your perception of things can differ from someone else’s, but that doesn’t mean either of you is necessarily wrong.

[456-is-the-way]

Hi! I love your fics so much! Gi-hun definitely needs more love, I mean come on, so here it is. Could you maybe write something about the reader being a foreigner and she was in the games when Gi-hun first was and they feel in love there and won together, so now they live in the Pink Motel together and make a plan about the games where Gi-hun returns to the games as a player and reader somehow infiltrates herself into the games by being the triangle guard and watches over them (kind of like what Hwang Jun-ho did) and during the player's rebellion she stays and he captures her along with the other triangle guy and then takes her mask off and Gi-hun realizes that it's her. They reunite really sweetly and she helps him to try and stops the games during the shootout. You could maybe even include the very ending where the Frotman kills Gi-hun's frined, like how would that scene in that case play out.

Thank you so much, love u 💚

FIRST OFF OMG WHAT IS WITH THIS FUCKING AMAZING PLOT IDEA. Seeing this I am going to be honest it's giving me an idea for a 5 part series. I dont want to stuff all this into a quick response a one shot wouldnt do it justice. If you wanna lokwey dm me I'll tag you in the comments , tell you when its done or just look on my page because this is a really good freaking plot idea !!! So imm be cooking this one I love Gi-hun. He is hot daddy. Ngl. 👀 but yeah I should be cooking up a start for this maybe around Friday it should be posted because this is behind 4+ other requests i have but I do want to give this spot light so yall keep looking at my posts !! Ahhh!!

[manonssunset]

"UNWRAP ME"

pairing: huh yunjin x fem!reader

synopsys: yunjin mentioned she has a special christmas surprise waiting for you. when you arrived at home, you were surprised to find out that the special gift was her, seated beneath the christmas tree, ready for you to "unwrap" her.

warnings/tags: language, smut, nsfw content under the cut, established relationship, service top!reader, yunjin is the one giving commands, lingerie, dry humping (thigh riding)

wc: +3,4k

a/n: happy new year, guys! this is my special (super late) gift for you all, also first time posting something like this on the blog. I hope you find it hot, lol. this took me longer than expected, but I’m satisfied with the way it turned out. I reduced the smut part substantially because, honestly, you would have had to wait another 10 days to read it, bye 💀. but I still wrote almost 600 words of just them kissing, so there's that.

working through christmas was always quiet and a bit annoying, with clients constantly bragging about their exotic holiday plans or the luxurious gifts they were preparing to buy. but the truth was, you had no reason to feel envious. after all, you had the most priceless gift of all: yunjin, the kind of girl most could only wish for. 

the sharp ding of your phone’s notification pulled you out of your thoughts. it was a sudden interruption, cutting through the steady rhythm of clicking fingers on keyboards, sounds that were all too familiar in the office. you glanced at the screen, expecting to see an email or maybe a quick reminder from a colleague. instead, your gaze fell on a message from your girlfriend. she often checked in on you while you worked, and you always found it endearing. 

this time, however, the message wasn’t the usual question about how work was going or a casual mention of what she was making for dinner. no, this one felt entirely different.

[jen 💋]: your special gift is waiting for you under the tree, please get home as soon as you can ;) 

[you]: 10 minutes and I'm out

the message felt playful, almost teasing, and you were thrilled at the thought of what awaited you at home. she had mentioned before that she had something special prepared just for you, a gift that, in her words, you were going to absolutely love, said in that sensual tone of hers that always left your head spinning. to say you were eager to find out what she meant was an understatement.

-♧-

your hand trembled slightly as you gripped the keys to your shared apartment, anticipation rising with every turn of the metal. when the door finally clicked open, the soothing scent of vanilla and wood greeted you, wrapping around you like a warm embrace. as you stepped inside, you were immediately struck by an unexpected darkness in the room, the only light coming from the flickering glow of candles scattered around the space.

the silence was unnerving, an absence that made you pause. the only sound was the occasional crackle of the candles, yet it felt like something, or someone, was missing. yunjin’s presence, which you had so eagerly anticipated, wasn’t there to greet you as you had expected. she had promised to show you the long-awaited gift she’d been teasing you about all week, and yet, there was no sign of her.

your gaze instinctively shifted to the bottom of the christmas tree, and for a moment, you froze. your heart skipped a beat, and it took a second for your mind to catch up with what your eyes were seeing. she was there, wearing a black silk robe, held together with a red rope tied into a bow, like some kind of living present waiting just for you. the light from the candles reflected off the fabric, giving her an almost ethereal glow. she lay on the carpet, looking up at you with an inviting, seductive gaze.

your breath caught up in your throat, and for a brief second, you weren't sure if you should move closer or stay rooted in place. you gulped as you stood still, speechless, completely captivated by the sight before you. “you're finally home, I've been waiting for you” you felt your knees weaken at the tone of her voice, filled with control and sensuality. you couldn’t form a response, too overwhelmed by the intensity of the moment to be able to articulate anything.

she rose with grace, and, as she closed the distance between you two, each of her steps were accompanied by heels tapping against the floor. It was as though a muse was walking towards you, her hips swaying from side to side with an elegant, almost hypnotic confidence. your heartbeat quickened as she got closer, and instinctively, you started taking steps back, your senses heightened, your mind a mix of conflicting emotions. part of you wanted to ask what was happening, but another part was curious to see where this moment would lead.

the back of your legs collided with the couch, and you suddenly felt cornered, with nowhere to go, no escape from her approaching presence. a sly smirk tugged at her lips as she closed the distance, gently pushing you to sit down. the coldness of the cushions on your skin contrasted sharply with the warmth spreading inside you. your gazes locked, and in that instant, the desire in her eyes was so intense it felt almost magnetic, drawing you in, making you want to lose yourself in her and everything she embodied.

she positioned herself comfortably on your lap, her movements slow, milky legs peeking out from beneath the robe. it was then that you noticed the meticulous attention she had paid to her makeup, each detail enhancing her beauty. she had even chosen your favorite perfume, a sweet vanilla scent that perfectly complemented the fragrance of the candles. it was clear now that she had carefully orchestrated this moment, aiming to give you a show that you were bound to enjoy.

the sudden closeness caused heat to flood your face. the slight pressure of her body pressed against yours sent your mind into overdrive. you could feel every subtle shift of her weight, making it hard to focus on anything else that wasn’t her. your hand instinctively went to her thighs, gently massaging the soft skin that radiated warmth under your fingertips. she gently traced her fingers up your arms, the light touch sending a wave of goosebumps across your skin, before placing them on top of your shoulders. 

you stilled as her face inched closer, her lips just centimetres from your ear. in this proximity, the intoxicating scent of her perfume magnified tenfold, its sweetness filling your senses and clouding your thoughts. her breath was warm against your skin as she whispered “unwrap me”, her voice drenched in the same seductive tone that never failed to unsettle and allure you in. she noticed the subtle tension in your body after her words, the air thickened, growing more charged than before. your hands slowly made their way to the ribbon, fingertips grazing the soft fabric, before you finally gripped its ends. 

you trembled as you undid the knot, the cool, soft fabric of the ribbon slipping smoothly beneath your fingers. the knot was simple but each movement felt agonizingly slow, as though time itself was stretching, drawn out by the weight of her gaze. her eyes, full of expectation, never left you, and the intensity of her look made your breath catch in your throat.

you held your breath as the ribbon finally loosened, your heartbeat thudding loudly in your ears. all the anticipation that had built from the moment she’d sent that text was unraveling now, piece by piece, and you couldn’t help but feel the tension hang in the air.

your eyes followed the path of her robe as it fell open, slipping off her shoulder to reveal what she had kept hidden until now. you couldn't help it when a gasp escaped your lips as you finally took in the sight before you: yunjin, all dolled up for you, wearing nothing more than a red lace set of lingerie. it accentuated her curves in a way that left your jaw slightly open, yet her elegance remained unmistakable. her set was far from tacky or overly explicit, it clung to her body with a sensuality that balanced provocativeness and sophistication. it revealed just enough, embracing her shape while maintaining a sense of grace and modesty. 

the warm, golden hues of the room bathed her exposed skin, creating a soft, radiant glow. she resembled a living version of venus, as if she had stepped out of a renaissance painting, one that belonged in a museum. arousal swept through you as a tingling sensation began to rise. the tightness that had formed in your stomach spread lower, a pulsing ache that clouded your mind with lust. it was clear that the feeling was mutual. the intensity of her gaze and the way her eyes locked with yours was a telltale sign that she was consumed too by the same need. her restless shifting, searching for the friction she desperately craved, also spoke volume.

she broke the silence with a question, her voice quieter, tinged with an unexpected hint of uncertainty. “do you like it?” despite your obvious reaction, she still sought confirmation, her usual confidence momentarily slipping. “jen, I don't think you understand how much I love it,” you said, almost baffled by her question. it wasn’t just about the lingerie, although it was stunning, it was everything she had done for this moment, all the care and effort she had put into it, just for you. and above all, it was her, the most important person for you. “thank you, baby,” she replied, her seductive tone returning as she cupped your face with both hands and leaned closer. “now, let’s get to the good part.”

her lips crashed against yours with urgency, the relentlessness evident in the way she yanked you closer, her fingers gripping the back of your head, anchoring themselves in your hair. the contact was frantic, as if she couldn't get enough of you. she tilted her head slightly to the side, deepening the kiss as you let your hands roam her body freely, your fingers caressing her skin before resting on her waist. there was a raw desperation in the way she kissed you, as if she was trying to devour you; her longing for you was unmistakable, like she could no longer keep it contained.

the way her lips moved with yours was soothing, the warmth of her skin sinking deep into you, making everything else fade away. your bodies were so close, it was almost as if you were breathing each other in, each subtle movement heightening the feeling of intimacy. the kiss was the physical manifestation of the desire you had both been hiding, the need to feel every part of each other becoming almost overwhelming. it wasn't anymore just about meeting lips, it was about being intertwined, your bodies pressing against each other in perfect harmony. 

you both pulled away briefly, her breath was ragged and shallow, a soft whimper escaping her as you squeezed the flesh of her ass. you both lingered there, a brief pause from the intensity of the session, both of your lips slightly parted as you caught your breath, chest rising and falling in sync. her pupils were dilated, a hint of something in her eyes, an unspoken impulse that was being held back, waiting to be released. you heard her mumble a quiet “fuck it” and before you could even register her words, she tugged you forward by the collar of your shirt, your lips making contact again. 

her tongue ran gently over your lips, applying pressure as a silent invitation to enter. you granted her request, allowing her muscle to invade your mouth, lightly sucking on it. she let out a surprised gasp at the sensation, her fingers tightly gripping the fabric of your button up shirt. as you massaged your tongues together in a gentle but intense dance, teeth clicking and saliva exchanging, your hands returned around her waist, pressing into the softness of her skin. you carefully bit her bottom lip, drawing it between yours as you continued sucking. it was all too much for her, the sensation was overwhelming, and her control slowly slipped away.

she began grinding on your lap as you were still kissing, her body moving effortlessly as she chased her own pleasure. you guided her hips and pressed her down further more, and she let out little, desperate gasps every time your lips parted to allow oxygen in. you couldn't lie and say that yunjin using you as a way to get off didn't turn you on, the sensation was electrifying, and you felt your own desire seep through your panties, soaking them. 

“mmph–ahh, jesus—” her sweet moans were muffled by your lips, creating a delicious symphony that reverberated in the confines of your mouth, sending shivers down your spine. the rough fabric of your work pants against her thin panties generated the ideal friction on her clit, making her mind go fuzzy. her hands roamed aimlessly, grasping and gripping whatever lay within reach: the fabric of your shirt, your arms, the back of your neck, your hair, and so on. she was riding your thigh so desperately it was almost cinematic: erratically moving her hips, grinding down, attempting to rub every time on the same perfect spot that gave her immense pleasure.

the room was starting to feel too hot for you. the heat from the candles, but especially from the union of your two bodies so close together, was becoming unbearable, so you decided to break the kiss to remove some of your clothing. after you delicately pushed yunjin back, allowing her body to rest on your legs, your eyes widened in surprise at the sight before you. it was beautiful; a clear, glassy strand of saliva was still connecting the two of you, a quiet reminder of your closeness. she was about to whine at the loss of contact when she also realized what she was seeing, and a small genuine smile tugged at her lips. 

you took advantage of the quiet moment to finally contemplate your girlfriend’s physical state: her face had a subtle pink flush that still peeped through even under her makeup, her lips were a strong red color that matched her lingerie, and they were quite swollen, an evident consequence of the kissing. her eyes were like a window to the multitude of emotions that pervaded her: delight, confidence, a bit of frustration, and, above all, desire. as your gaze moved lower down her body, you spotted a wet patch on her underwear; the fabric turned a much darker shade of red, and you wanted nothing more than to get a taste of the source of that change.

she noticed your intense stare and turned her head, flustered. “stop staring at me like that,” she said softly, her voice pulling you out of your trance as you felt her left hand brush over the skin of your face, settling on your jaw. in that moment, all your focus was on her. “no, but seriously,” she started, her tone firm like she needed you to be serious with her. “why did you stop?” her question was accompanied by a tiny pout, which made you smile, her frustration evident in her puppy-like features. you let out a slight chuckle in response, placing your hand over hers as a sign of reassurance. 

“I was honestly just too hot and wanted to take my shirt off,” you truthfully replied with a grin, finding the simplicity of your answer pretty amusing. as the words left your mouth, her pout melted away into a smile, mirroring yours. underlying her happiness though, she felt a tingling sensation begin to rise, a silent excitement at seeing you without your shirt. “do that then,” you caught her need by the urgency of her command and by the way she looked at you, as if she had already taken your shirt off with her eyes. you were more than happy to comply, gradually undoing all of your buttons just to tease her.

her whole demeanor was full of anticipation, she had folded her hands diligently on her lap while she watched you do your thing. as you slowly stripped for her, dragging out all of your movements since you knew it would turn her on more, she spotted your sculpted abs and your muscular arms, finally free of your shirt. the sight hit her all at once, causing her thighs to impulsively clench around yours and her hips to buck into the air.

heat flooded her face as she blushed in embarrassment, her reaction an obvious indication of her neediness; her head dropped into the crook of your now fully exposed neck, as if she was trying to hide from you. she took advantage of the closeness to inhale the scent your body. it was a mix of the aquatic and musky fragrance you used at work, one she could never resist whenever you wore it, mingled with the natural, comforting aroma of your skin. this mixture was fatal for yunjin, the scent did unspeakable things to her, her already soaked panties now starting to leave a wet spot on your own pants, and she was growing more desperate with each second that passed.

you were quick to detect it, knowing exactly what she was craving for in that moment, taking the lead for the first time that night. “come on, ride my thigh,” you ordered as you patted your right leg, knowing that having just one of your thighs between her legs would cause her far more friction than simply rocking into your lap. the sudden switch in your tone of voice went straight to yunjin's core as more of her fluids gushed out. she weakly nodded and stood on her trembling knees, holding onto your bare shoulders and submissively following your order. you gripped her waist to keep her stable as she moved over to your thigh, carefully positioning herself. 

“fuck!” she exclaimed when you suddenly pulled her down onto your leg with force, the unexpected contact with her sensitive clit causing her to gasp loudly in response. her face contorted with pleasure as she began riding your thigh, her hips moving like waves, crashing and withdrawing in a rhythmic pattern. “oh–oh my god,” she moaned beautifully, letting out melodic sounds with each movement of her hips. “this feels so good,” the pleasure she was experiencing led her eyes to close tightly and her mouth to open. 

“good girl, keep moving,” you purred into her ear as your hands dragged her back and forth. her brain short-circuited at the name you gave her: she squirmed on top of you, her hips stuttering as a familiar sensation started to build inside her. she mewled in response; the commanding, dominant yunjin who had left you flustered just minutes ago was now a moaning mess under your touch. “ah— god” she threw her head back as she felt your thigh twitch and stiffen beneath her, providing the perfect solidity against her clit. 

as she continued to hump, your hands left her waist and slowly worked their way up to her chest, not without lightly scratching her skin, causing a burning sensation to spread beneath the surface. you began massaging and caressing her tits over her bra, lazily rubbing circles with your thumbs across the fabric. just the light pressure was enough for her to feel pleasure as more lewd sounds left her mouth. so it came as no surprise that, when you exposed her nipples and pinched them with your fingers, she let out a guttural scream. “fu-fuck–please, keep— ahh— keep doing that,” she begged as you twisted and pulled her sensitive buds.

her insides started to burn, a tight knot in her low abdomen indicated that her orgasm was near. “are you close?” you asked as you noticed her movements become sloppier and her moans rising in pitch. “y-yes, I— please— please let me come.” her voice trembled as she pleaded for your permission. as much as you wanted to tease her, to push her just a little further, you couldn’t resist and granted her request. “go ahead baby,” the moment you were done speaking you felt her body still in your hands, her back arched and her head thrown back. her vision faded to black as she reached her climax, a wave of pleasure washing over her as she cried out a mixture of curse words and little “thank you”s.

she collapsed into your arms, her body was now a limp weight pressed against your chest. her head nestled against your neck, her eyes closed as she focused on regaining the stable rhythm of her breath. you gently stroked her hair as a comfortable silence enveloped the two of you, the only sounds being the soft crackle of the candles and her breathing. the warmth of her body pressed against yours was like a gentle caress, a comforting embrace that made you melt into your seat. “can we stay like this for a bit?” she asked softly, her voice hoarse from all the moaning, and her arms tightened around you as she clung to your torso. “of course,” you replied, leaning your head over hers and caressing her back, savoring the closeness. “whatever you want.”

a/n: oof, this one was really long to write, I'm so sorry for the wait, guys, hope you like it!

[doodler16]

I don't talk about/avoid talking about proshippers on here because if I do, and even I make sure to tag any proship post using the anti tags, proshippers will find a way to try to harass me, and I don't want my mental health to suffer all thanks to these sick fuckers (as my mental health is already suffering thanks to my job and other offline stuff).

But I want to get this off of my chest in terms of my chest. As an antishipper, I'm concerned about minors entering these kinds of spaces and consuming content that has proship themes (including Hazbin Hotel and Helluva Boss). The fact that there's a trend of minors watching Hazbin and Helluva Boss is concerning. Despite the shows having some sort of content warning at the beginning of each episode (and minor, of course easily ignoring that), Vivziepop has yet to make a statement regarding minors watching her stuff. And the fact that she has yet to address that issue, it seems like she doesn't care about her minors supporting her since it's just another way to gain income so she could use that money towards paying those A list celebs she hired while paying her animators pennies. And it's bad enough that she hasn't addressed the issue about the one child that asked Angel Dust's VA about how he felt recorded scenes involving very sexual themes.

I feel like, as a result of Vivziepop ignoring the issues of minors supporting her work, interacting with fans, and cosplaying as characters that they shouldn't be cosplaying, there's going to be a lot of grooming accusations coming forward about adults grooming child fans. Vivziepop, as a creator, especially as a creator of an animated series targeted towards adults, has full responsibility as to who should or shouldn't be consuming her work. And knowing she's not going to come out with a statement anytime soon, people are going to use that as an excuse to prey on the children in the fandom as her remaining silent on the matter is going to make people think that she's okay with minors supporting her (basically the whole "silence = acceptance" thing).

I'm also concerned that it will go beyond adult fans grooming minors to people who work closely to Vivziepop grooming minors. As of right now (but please correct me if I'm wrong), I haven't heard about anyone who works under her being groomers, but I'm worried that it will eventually lead up to that all because Vivziepop doesn't want to take a minute out of her day to tell minors not to watch HB and HH.

And it's not just Vivziepop that should be held accountable. The parents of these children who are supporting her need to be held accountable, too. These parents need to look into what their children are watching both online and on TV. A lot of (if not all) adult media contains content that children shouldn't be consuming. And what doesn't help is that there are parents who don't care if their kids watch this kind of stuff, including porn.

I highly doubt that Vivziepop will do the right thing by issuing a statement about minors consuming her work. From what I've witnessed, it's clear that she's putting profit over minor safety. As long as these kids are giving her their money, she doesn't give a shit if adult fans are acting predatory towards minors. And she'll do everything she could to sweep things under the rug if anyone who works for her are grooming on those minor fans.

Fair concern. Minors in the Helluvaverse community have always been a problem ironically despite Hazbin Hotel and Helluva Boss being for mature audiences. The closest thing Vivziepop has done from what I’ve seen so far is liking tweets that parent shouldn’t bring their children into adult panels.

Then Vivziepop said this:

I don’t know if things changed now with their booths/panels but both booths and panels ideally should be strictly 18+ (ID included too obviously), so they avoid situations like how a 9-10 year old asked Blake Roman inappropriate questions or any other uncomfortable situations. For Helluva Boss, Vivziepop could actually age restrict but if she does that she would lose more viewers.

Adult fans grooming minors have definitely happened. For example, an Anon mentioned their concerns regarding adult fans encouraging minors to ship ValAngel and how it happened to them. Luckily their friends got them out of that situation.

Right now at the moment there haven’t been any allegations of any Spindlehorse employees being groomers. I’ve only heard of drawing incest and rape fetishization. But only time will tell. Either way, Anon hope you are doing better.

[thebreakfastgenie]

The tags I copied when I originally responded to your comment blamed people like OP—me—for trans mascs experiencing transphobia on tumblr. It says prev but the tags were visible on your reblog and only yours. They are no longer visible at all. I don’t know if you deleted them or they’ve never yours and there was a tumblr glitch of some kind, but they seemed to align with your comment so I have been assuming they were part of the context of your argument. Those tags and your tone led me to believe you were implying because TERFs use hating men as an excuse, you should not do it and women saying they hate men is wrong. Since you have now plainly stated that is not the case, I apologize. I still don’t entirely agree with your analysis, because I think “TERFs like men actually” is true some of the time, not all of the time but more often than they admit or believe. As for being people say what they mean, sometimes people say things and believe they mean them but their actions say otherwise. Bigots and right wingers also lie a lot. I don’t really care if TERFs do try to claim it’s just that they hate men because it’s the bigotry that matters. I guess I can agree that TERFs trying to excuse bigoted statements as just being anti-men sometimes happens so if you really only care about that as an observation okay but I don’t really see why it matters. It’s not mutually exclusive with some TERFs actually liking men whatever they claim. There is variation within their movement. Also, again, bigots lie all the time, including to themselves, so even an individual TERF can can do both.

I don’t know how I’d keep putting word in your mouth if I didn’t read the post, but you seem sure I’ll do both.

Something I want this website specifically to reflect on! Are you mad at women for talking about men the same way you talk about cishets or neurotypicals? Why?

[thebessthingathisparty]

With A Little Help From My Friends ⋆⁺₊❅.

Alex Albon 𓍊⋆｡° 𓋼 ⁺₊ 𓍊⋆

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Formula 1 college hockey team social media AU! Instagram Edition

The tight-knit college hockey team, the Silver Blades, run by team captain Max Verstappen, isn't just about scoring goals—it's a chosen family. On and off the ice, the team has each other's backs, whether that's through college assignments, throwing awesome parties, or winning the championship together. Follow these overworked, tired, college students as they post through their day-to-day life.

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Albono

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liked by CarlosSainz, ChargingSarge, and others

Albono All in a day's work. (Name this plant for me)

View Comments

LandoNorris4 alex that is literally terrifying are you normal?????

LandoNorris4 why would you EVER post that

Albono It's science Lando. 🙄

RandomHockeyFan Typical athlete, they try and trick you into thinking their cool and then post shit like this.

Albono Well what does that mean?

LilyMuniHe this reminded me, i need to finish my env sci project ☝️

Albono You're not borrowing any of mine, before you get any ideas

LilyMuniHe ALEXXXXX LITERALLY PLEASEEE

ChargingSarge What kind of plant is that?

Albono A rare and dying breed called ur mum

ChargingSarge 😐 (liked by Albono)

GeorgeRus George.

CharLeclerc Charles

LandoNorris4 Lanod

OscarJP Oscar

DanielRicciardo Big dick danny

Albono I guess i did get what I asked for (liked by GeorgeRus, CharLeclerc, LandoNorris4, OscarJP, and DanielRicciardo)

view all comments!

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liked by OscarJP, AlexandraSaint, and others

Albono For science.

View Comments

LandoNorris4 always something with you and science, be normal like the rest of us alex

OscarJP How did you acquire my cat, and why is he in this post? Should I be concerned for Jack?

ItsYourname no oscar, he OBVIOUSLY said it's for science, trust the man 🙄 (liked by Albono)

Albono Thank you Y/N, Bailey is next.

ItsYourname 🤨

YukiTsunoda22 What could that cat possibly be saying to you??!! (liked by Albono)

Franco43Colapinto cats often talk to me too, i am fluent in cat (liked by Albono)

Albono I don't doubt that

MaxVerstappen You are looking awfully suspicious in the third slide 🤨🤨🤨

Albono Stay on your side.

view all comments!

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liked by ItsYourname, YukiTsunoda22, and others

Albono NYC trip is going great!

tagged ChargingSarge, and LilyMuniHe

View Comments

CarlosSainz Yeah... Logan looks like he's having a blast

Albono Oh you know logan! Thats how he always is, can't help it

ChargingSarge 😐

ItsYourname ugh alex i am SO jealous that you get to spend this time with lily and not me, but I hope you two are having fun !!!!!!!! (liked by Albono)

CharLeclerc Why are his comments so nice?????

ItsYourname Charles this is literally not about you, GOD (liked by Albono)

LilyMuniHe IN NEWWWYORKKKKKKKKKKKKKK (liked by Albono)

LilyMuniHe sorry, had to have my little rachel berry moment (liked by Albono)

LandoNorris4 have you seen any fat rats yet????? i prayed you would

Albono Literally why would you EVER do that

DanielRicciardo Why are just you lily and logan on a trip?

Albono Uh some of us (logan) were feeling down so the okay people(me and lily) decided to take him on a trip to cheer said person(logan) up

DanielRicciardo Ahhh so you guys are kind of like logans guardian angels that save him from the bad

Albono Pretty much

ChargingSarge 😐

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liked by CharLeclerc, Franco43Colapinto, and others

Albono 3 BOOMS FOR 3 YEARS 💥💥💥

tagged LilyMuniHe

View Comments

LilyMuniHe BOOM 💥 (liked by Albono)

LilyMuniHe BOOM 💥 (liked by Albono)

LilyMuniHe BOOM 💥 (liked by Albono)

MaxVerstappen One day I hope I am able to understand the two of you

Albono Max man it is FUN over here (liked by MaxVerstappen)

GeorgeRus Not even a warning, my favorite couple 😭 (liked by Albono)

GeorgeRus I didn't think i'd be crying on this fine Tuesday evening but alas here I am (liked by Albono)

Franco43Colapinto holy shit bro what century are you from

OscarJP Congratulations

Albono Please oscar not too much excitement, its only been 3 years (liked by OscarJP)

LandoNorris4 i wish i could have a child and then you two parent them and while i get to be the fun uncle

Albono This is a concerning thought, love the enthusiasm though!

ItsYourname MY SHAYLASSSSSSSS!!!!!!1 😭😭😭😭😭😭😭 (liked by Albono, LilymuniHe, and AlexandraSaint)

AlexandraSaint in my head you two are sims I created and am playing (liked by LilymuniHe)

Albono Hey! What does that mean

view all comments!

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[leonardmccoyevents]

~~Love is in the air~~

A Valentine's Event to celebrate all things lovey dovey, featuring Leonard McCoy.

Event Schedule:

This event runs from Friday the 14th to Monday the 17th of February.

Rules & Guidelines

Please use the tag #leonardmccoyvalentines2025 and tag this Tumblr

If you want to post to ao3, use the collection Leonard McCoy Valentine's Event 2025

Fanworks of any kind are allowed but should be a new work for this event

Open to all McCoy ships

Nsfw is allowed but please tag for sensitive content

You can use one, two or all three of the prompts given for each day or combine them

If you have any questions or need clarification on anything, feel free to send an ask or leave a reply.

And finally please reblog to let others know and happy creating.

February 14: Valentine’s Day - Mutual Pining - “Did you just kiss me?”

February 15: Love Letters - In Vino Verites* - “We’ll always have Risa”

February 16: Cupid’s Arrow - Only One Bed - “Does that line ever work?”

February 17: Rose Petals - Meet Cute - “I never meant to fall for you”

*Drunken Confession

[carcasscounty]

Quick discussion post because there's stuff happening in the fc5 community and it has been high-key bugging me. Please actually read the post before adding on because I fear there's been a LOT of people hopping on this without having actually seen the work being called into question here

Feel free to add or correct me if I've missed something or made any mistakes, I am human and do make mistakes

Content warning for mentions of incest, this one's a doozy

You are not in the wrong for creating art that depicts or represents your trauma however you want or however helps you cope with it. It is your life experiences and it is entirely up to you how you go about expressing it, nor are you in the wrong for exploring more dark and uncomfortable topics in your art. That is not what is being criticized here, and anyone who has gone out of their way to harass you and anyone that associates with you for it is very much in the wrong and needs to knock it off

However, what you ARE being criticized for is how you've gone about posting it. There were no warnings or tags that this was, in fact, oc x canon incest art, nor is it clear in the specific pieces of art that this is what it is about. THAT is what the problem is. Your art contains seriously triggering content that could be a hazard for the people that have the context, and as the artist, it is your job to ensure that the posts are tagged properly to avoid having people who don't want to see that stuff come across it. I myself even saw the art on my dash at some point and thought, "Oh ew, that's just oc x canon nsfw," and thought nothing more of it until i actually looked at your account. And if i, someone who has all the appropriate tags ("tw incest," "tw rape," "tw sa," etc) blocked can stumble across your art without it being hidden, THAT'S KIND OF A PROBLEM.

And I'm not trying to accuse you of anything, but the fact that there's no proper warnings in the tags or anything mentioned in the actual posts has me a bit worried that you are trying to hide it and get people to engage with the art without fully even knowing what they're looking at, which isn't a good thing

Screenshots just to prove that the art pieces in question currently have no warnings tagged at the time of writing this

I'm pretty sure the only post that had the incest warning was one brief fic on the account, and then there was one mention on a sfw art piece that mentioned that she is supposed to be his daughter. But other than that, that's it

As someone who has gone through a similar brand of trauma that you have, you have my deepest sympathy and I am so sorry. However, you are in the wrong here, your posts should have been properly tagged.

It frustrates me deeply that the people who have spoken up about this in a civil manner (not referring to the anons who were harassing people) are being treated like the unreasonable ones here, and it frustrates me even more that people are hopping on a side without even actually understanding what the problem is. Almost everyone has fucked up here in some capacity

[feministfang]

That’s what happens when idiots focus too much on white supremacy. Acknowledging the fact that non-white men are evil too and some are even WORST than some white men is something they intentionally refuse to do because they are afraid of being called "racists" by liberal leftists. They will know the truth yet remain ignorant just to be on the safe side. And then proceed to live with the same leftist mentality because it makes them feel like they are the "good people" when they are just stupid.

The "radfems" who are like this shouldn’t even call themselves feminists because first of all, why are you putting racism before misogyny?? The latter is the only issue feminists should focus on tackling. Feminism is only for women, not men, and misogyny is the only kind of oppression that harms only women. All other issues that affect men too have their own movements and thus, shouldn’t be talked about under the tags of feminism. Feminism is not humanism!

And second, calling women "racists" for hating on brown men is literally both racist and misogynistic behaviour combined. You are not defending brown men, you are silencing brown women. Brown women from South Asia and Middle East (like the queen below) have been screaming their lungs out to stop worshipping brown men but y'all don’t listen because you think evil exists only in white form. Radical feminism means thinking critically but you can’t even think straight so like stfu!!

@deadfish-inabarrel crazy idiots will call us several names for speaking our truth that contradicts the false reality they are brainwashed to believe but don’t let them silence you. My original post is not something i have said for the first time. I have been saying this forever and got called "racist" by the angry birds. Well, guess what?? I am still here saying the same things and they are the ones silent now because i ignored them.

A friend of mine who moved to Europe screamed on a Pakistani man's face in her uni to go back to his terrorist land. And i loveee her for that. Europe needs to deport all the south asian men back to their countries I AM SERIOUS. South Asian women literally move to western countries to flee their patriarchal cultures just to find the same cultural oppression brought upon by these ugly incels from India and Pakistan. I don’t care if these men are refugees or came for a better lifestyle, they need to go back. I also don’t care if they are some woman’s hUsbAnds or family if those women care too much about these males they can go back as well since they love their toxic culture way too much apparently.

[intramoon]

hi aj !! i have a question i dont want to sound rude please know im not trying to be rude. i came back to simblr after a long time and its been really hard not to get discouraged. :/ my account is really dead no one interacts with me anymore. stuff is so different. i remember you used to be kinda popular but how do you deal with people not interacting with you as much as they used to?? i dont mean that in a mean way!! i dont want to quit simblr but idk how to get back to how things were

Hi! Don't worry, I don't think you're being rude, I understand where you're coming from. ♡ My response will be long because I have a lot to say about the topic, hopefully, it will help you.

If you were mostly active when I was in my "prime" (assuming that's what you mean by "kinda popular"), like 2018-2021, things will never be how they were then. The community, trends, and how we interacted with each other was so much different, I don't think it will ever go back to how it was then. I am kind of happy about that. Although my relationship with that time on Simblr is nostalgic (despite being too young and miserable to enjoy it), I think the community is in a healthier place now (mostly). I have had to adjust to a couple of things since coming back. One is that the content looks different now.

In my "prime" people were just getting into editing (that was a time before ReShade). Heavy editing and experimental editing were really celebrated, partly because everyone was learning and learning from each other. We just wanted to see what was possible. Now, maybe partly in reaction to that trend and how demanding it was, people have found an appreciation for the base game, simple screenshots with really only ReShade/gshade, CAS screenshots, etc. Not to say the former doesn't exist anymore because it absolutely does and people have become truly incredible at it. In some regard, it is an acquired taste especially if that's all you do. I've thought to myself many times should I stop editing the way I do, does that impact the way people take in my content? Do I have editing blindness? lol I like how I edit, I enjoy the process and, even if I do have editing blindness, I like how it looks. Even being an alpha creator, they are fewer and fewer as people opt for MM and MMix. I've thought, do people really not like alpha content anymore? Even my story at times felt like it didn't fit into the current story ethos. I thought about stopping it. I bring that all up to say, when you're coming back to a very different Simblr it can feel like what you used to make doesn't "fit in". And it might not. I don't think that should be the goal. The community now is so much more diverse, content-wise, that anything you want to make is possible. If you sacrifice your artistic vision, you'll end up leaving again. You have to make what speaks to you, regardless of the other noise.

Two, you have to find your reason for making your art. For a moment, I really lost touch with what I was even doing here. I took some time to figure it out. I first started because I wanted to tell a story that talked about intimacy through the lens of a sex worker and someone who had no romantic or sexual experience. I wanted to do this without over-sexualizing my sex worker character and infantilizing my other character. I wanted to write some of the dialogue I was having internally. Way back when that was all I wanted to do, I didn't struggle with being seen as much because I was posting with a purpose. That purpose wasn't likes or reblogs, but to tell a story and have a conversation. Everything else came after. Anyone coming back (or looking for a reason to stay) has to find, within themselves, why they want to be here and what they want to get out of it. I promise you if you reconnect with that, posting will be easier regardless of the outcome.

I know I took a lot for granted way back when. Asks about me or my characters, comments, tags, and even people wanting to join me in a Discord server or stream. Sounds like we both, a one point, wish we could go back. That just means it's something to appreciate more now. You can be and make really whatever you want, which wasn't always possible. Maybe think of coming back as a small rebirth and trust that if you keep at it, you will find your people. I am still in the process of finding mine but I trust they are out there. If you're passionate people will feel it. Best of luck and I hope something in this novel helps you! ♡

[slowparts]

sometimes i forget that this is actually a blog i can write about my life on. crazy right. anyways. this will probably be the first of many bc shits getting fucking insane in the membrane.

tw medical, cancer maybe, some vast unnameable fear saturday

gabriel has multiple masses in his neck and lymph nodes that we found out about on tuesday. one is nearly two inches long. he’s been complaining about neck pain for months. he had a regular checkup last week, his doc correctly noted his enlarged lymph nodes and ordered an ultrasound, he went for that on monday. on Thursday the (marked urgent) orders for the ct scan of his major lymphatic system + biopsy of his neck finally got sent to the hospital for scheduling. they haven’t called us yet though so i’ll be ringing them in the morning.

and like. yeah. i’ve felt his neck and i can feel it in there. this sounds dumb but he’s always had a big fucking neck. he’s just built like that, with a jawline that can retreat into his neck at a moments notice. he loves making people laugh with it. and yeah under his beard it’s obviously there. and i realize i’ve been staring at it for weeks, months maybe. noting something was off but not putting together what. even if i had, he’s a round soft boy. i’d never say a fucking thing about his chins getting bigger bc i know he feels self conscious about it sometimes. like i couldn’t have known. he’s been attributing his neck pain to his incredibly long working hours lifting things and working the restaurant. he’s been in pain for months and we still don’t know anything about it. i do not want to pre-worry about hypotheticals when we don’t even know what it is. and honestly, most of the time i fully believe it. i can usually talk myself (and often him, too) through a wave of fear about the not knowing, and the waiting. right before i am trying to sleep is the hardest. i dont want to take any meds to help at this point bc i need to be up in about 4 hours and be at work an hour or two after that, but the fear is eating me alive right now. so im writing this to hopefully exorcise some of it, maybe wear my brain out just enough to crash.

it might not even be anything as bad as all that. but it could be, and that’s going to be the rock in my shoe until we know literally anything besides how big the masses are. which coupled with the months of his being in neck pain—he is fucking averse to ibuprofen so whenever he complains about aching and i offer meds he declines 75% of the time, so i always just assume it’s because. he is lifting shit all day at work and when he’s not lifting things he’s at a computer doing other work things. he’s an achy boy and i rub his shoulders and kiss him lots and love him with everything in me. anyway i just assumed it wasn’t anything major. —so the size of the masses + the amount of time he’s been in pain = I’m Really Fucking Concerned. and i can’t fucking do anything about it right now so i should just go to sleep. but when i put my phone down and close my eyes and try to sleep, im more aware of him next to me. and i love him being there. but my brain is making extremely unsolicited leaps and bounds from “oh, my partner is next to me in bed, i love sleeping next to him” to “what if he wasn’t next to me in bed and what if he never would be again because he died from this thing” which is like. literally THE most unhelpful thought to be having while you’re trying to sleep. So i’m gonna ride it out until sleep comes for me like a brick, or until my shift ends tomorrow.

i am so fucking scared. i don’t think i have ever felt fear like this before. everyone in my family who died of cancer died before i was born. i have only ever seen this play out at arms length. if i dwell on that fear, if i try to say what it is i’m afraid of (because for me, naming it is the first step to working through it), its like something primordial in my brain takes over. tangle of eels, oil spill dark and swallowing. no language for it yet.

when he had appendicitis and was in incredible amounts of pain, he described his pain on the 1-10 scale as a 3, maybe a 4. Granted that was nearly 9 years ago and he’s more aware of the fact that he as a man is allowed to be in pain and express it and treat it. so tonight he described the pain in his neck as a 7 that went down to a 5 with the ibuprofen. when he said 7 i had to stop myself from putting him in the car and taking him to the hospital right then. but it was already down to a 5. and he’s sleeping, and has been for a while now, so well at least wait until the morning.

i know he’s scared too, and i truly do not want him to have to be thinking about my fucked up brain feelings in the insomnia hours on top of everything else right now. i will not be telling him about this bc i want to self soothe. its a great time for me to practice. tomorrow night with meds. bc tonight i genuinely don’t think im sleeping. the clock just keeps…. going. and i keep being here.

and the fuck of it all is i do not know. and we wont for days to come. and i just have to live with that and keep reminding myself that it might not be that bad, and that lymphoma has a really high survival rate if it is that, and at least we know about it now. and the hospital has the orders for the next steps and he or i will call tomorrow to see if we can get the ct scan + biopsy scheduled as soon as possible. and tomorrow night, instead of dreading bedtime and spiraling the second i put my phone down for the night, i will take one of my anxiety meds preemptively. if i took it now id be zonked by the time i have to be at work and i do better sleep-deprived and winging it utterly than i do sleep-deprived with benzodiazepines in my system. but tomorrow night i can plan better. and we will get through it.

i love him so much. i know i know i know he will be okay. i don’t need to worry about all that right now.

also somehow!!!! on top of ALL OF THIS!!!!!! my brain is somehow able to sustain a positively unhinged crush on a friend, who doesn’t use tumblr thank god. few truly safe spaces remain in this world for me to have a full on mental breakdown complete with insomnia and inexplicable horniness. sorry that’s more than you needed probably. no actually im not sorry it’s my blog. this is under a readmore. if you’re here you’re in it now.

i think i started writing this post like two hours ago. at least 90 minutes have elapsed. Anyways. i love you im kissing you on the forehead and thank you for reading this and being here with me in a way. i love you.

[biggest-gaudiest-patronuses]

real talk having the 2nd worst new years eve yet 🤢🤢🤢 (throat infection, twisted neck, banged-about-foot, ego AND the rest o' me all bruised like misjuggled peaches 🍑🍑🍑)

im bent outa shape and suspectin the universe owes me 8 buck if anyone wannsa chip in

[bellaaldamas]

The "mistagging" was clearly not accidental, sadly. This person deliberately used the ship tag (freytos) so that the fans, myself included, would find it. Whereas the "progressive left" has demonstrated yet again how they embrace patriarchy in it's most primordial form by claiming Freya's development and "freedom" from abuse will be "downplayed" if she enters a healthy relationship with another man. This same person never received any kind of aggressive backlash or trolling when it comes to their own, completely AU and fanon headcanons about Atreus and the yaoi involving him. But they cannot extend the same courtesy to other people in the fandom, in this case freytos shippers, and refrain from using the appreciation tag for their outburst.

And as much as I absolutely hate going into that territory and playing the "Greek woman" card I cannot help but be disturbed and appalled by how Lysandra is being used as a weapon against Freytos by the people who do not - nor have they ever - cared about her. Beyond her being a "proto" Greek wife who has "fulfilled her duty" of carrying a brooding and violent man "forward" before he could find a more "advanced and developed" Nordic woman Faye who "finally fixed him". Thus, Faye has also fulfilled her duty of making Kratos into a better person and being the perfect wife and mother before dying on him. Those same people do not even recognize how misogynistic it is to reduce both Faye and Lysandra to the accessories in Kratos's story.

@rhythmsmith and @freytos already covered most of the issues with the anti-Freytos rhetoric in the replies. Therefore I will just copy and paste my own responses to their eloquent summary (you can read their comments in the reply section to this post):

This attitude stems from misogyny and the idea that women become reduced to sexual objects the moment they get involved with men. This is normalizing the society's sexist notion that romantic/sexual relationship mean an automatic loss of autonomy and agency - but only for a woman. Same notion does not extend to men and THAT is why the anti-Freytos types support all manner of ludicrous Yaoi with Kratos involved. Including Kratos and Atreus of Sparta which is absurd because Kratos would never name his son after a man he supposedly had a "crush" on let alone a relationship with. Or Kratos and Tyr and Kratos and Thor where the former has zero basis in canon and is even more fanon than Freytos (which had allusions and direct mentions of the possibility of their involvement in Valhalla). Whilst Kratos/Thor is an outright toxic ship where antagonism between two characters is being fetishized and sexualized. Those same people would bend over backwards calling an M/F ship such as this "abusive" because "dumb women" cannot resist "bad boys'" charms. But men totally can and should be paired with such bad boys.

Finally, there is the greatest evil in the form of the idea that platonic and romantic relationship should be held to a different standard.

This is why the Baldur issue only EVER comes into play when the subject of Freytos romantic involvement comes into play. This is especially offensive in the context of Freya's story where Odin's abuse of her did not exist in vacuum and was enabled and made possible by her community, her own people and both the "evil/misguided" Aesir and the "good/confused" Vanir.

Freya's own people, for whom she had entered the marriage with Odin in the first place, denounced her - including her own brother - and wrote insults on the walls of her realm in order to humiliate her for daring to exercise her agency. But both the fandom and the narrative expected Freya to just forgive and forget because this is what women ought to do.

Then the anti-Freytos types spit on abuse victims from their victim blaming, pseudo-feminist high horse when they pair Freya with Sif - a woman who raised her own daughter to consider Freya a "treacherous ex wife" of her genocidal granddaddy (but Thrud is still a "feminist icon" and should totally be friends and even "more" with Atreus who made it clear time and again he is not interested in her and who, mind you, killed her brother in cold blood; but it's totally ok, because Thrud dismissed Modi's death in an outright sociopathic manner of "we're better off without him").

Most of the anti-Freytos misogyny is repackaged patriarchy from yaoi shippers which suggests a woman loses her individuality the moment she gets involved with a man. Particularly atrocious is the rhetoric of "let Freya just be Free" after her separation from Odin and his abuse, as if commitment and romantic/marital involvement means an automatic loss of freedom and autonomy but only for women. This is both misogynistic and absolves men like Odin of responsibility for their abusive behaviors by implying that the problem was/is not them but the fact of a woman choosing to enter a relationship and marriage. And, by doing so, supposedly "signing up" for marital and domestic violence. This is a progressive version of "she had it coming".

This is also where another misogynistic claim comes into play: the idea that Freya being involved with Kratos "destroys her entire arc, their beautiful friendship and Freya's liberation from Odin's abuse". Yet again the mechanics of abuse against women is being misrepresented and implies that involvement, for a woman, comes with the inevitability of being A) abused and B) losing her freedom/autonomy. By arguing that, the anti-Freytos camp is placing the responsibility for those occurrences on women.

But a man can totally be involved with any other man because men in general have "evolved beyond" losing their individuality and freedom when they have a relationship. Only "hormonal and gullible women" do. Hence the assorted yaoi with Kratos passed off as "progressive".

The Freytos opposing crowd is so miserable they believe their "progressive misogyny" gets a pass for invading freytos tag with their "hot takes". Of course said progressive misogyny involves an insulting anti-women claim that woman's separation and freedom from her abuser (Odin in this case) would be downplayed if she enters a positive and healthy relationship with another man. And no, you do not get to play the "but Kratos killed Baldur!!11!!" card if you still "Wuv their Bootiful Friendship" and don't want it ruined by the "dirty romance" which supposedly turns women into sexual objects and robs poor men of the ability to still respect them and acknowledge their needs. Holding platonic relationship to a different standard than romantic relationship is offensive, especially when talking about a character like Freya whose marital abuse at the hands of Odin was only possible because it was enabled by the people she had platonic connections to (including her own people and her brother who had denounced her). Kratos was the only one who did not enable it.

Needless to say those progressive misogynists are totally on board with Kratos being a part of some completely fanon yaoi such as Kratos/Mimir or Kratos/Tyr or Kratos/Thor. Because men are "more complex and deep" than women and THEIR progression, development and "journey" can never be undermined if they take romantic interest in one another. Only women become servants to their hormones if they do, didn't you know?

Predictably, in order to make this progressive misogyny work and get support from the fellow "progressives" the anti-Freytos types proudly establish themselves as the "not like other girls" of the fandom who do not need to learn proper tagging.

One good thing to come out of their sexism, entitlement and lack of tagging ethic? It gives a perfect opportunity to block everyone in the notes.